#the body language and the hand gestures in this game were often animated so well

[imjusttpeachy]

the early bird gets the panini (c.h.)

well this is quite the change of pace isn’t it. lmao i figured u guys needed a break from the crying so here’s... whatever this is

thank u all new followers!! u jus made a big mistake💞🦋

u guys should search up “my very real collab with 50 cent” by corpse if you haven’t heard it yet, i ascended the first time i listened lmaoooo

playlist

the wombats - greek tragedy

aminé - heebiejeebies

free nationals - beauty and essex

the marías- let my baby stay

summary: Corpse interrupts the reader’s morning livestream after she left him alone in bed that morning. Fluff and fuckery ensues.

word count: 2, 326

WARNINGS: she/her pronouns, coarse language

>>>

“Okay, Tom Nook is the most bitch-ass motherfucker I’ve ever met. I could fold him like a panini with a slap I swear to god.”

Mornings were definitely one of your favourite times to stream. Of course, you loved staying up into the early hours of the morning only kept awake by the energy drinks running through your veins and the screaming of your friends over your headset, but nothing could beat the sweet simplicity of waking up with your watchers. It was always so calm, your anxiety levels at a low with the small audience building up slowly as more of them woke up. Reading those good morning messages saying that you helped to start their day off on a good foot— nothing would beat that.

The only downside to these scheduled morning streams was having to tear yourself away from the cozy warmth of your bed, especially if there was a certain someone blanketed over you silently persuading you to stay there forever. It was always a rare sight, bruised eyes sealed shut, long eyelashes kissing pale cheeks as small snores escaped from slightly parted lips. Glancing down at the messy black mop that rested on top of your chest, you sighed softly. You knew he’d only been asleep for a few hours, if that, thinking back to the night before where you crawled into bed alone after kissing him goodnight before leaving him to finish editing for his latest video. He worked too hard, but despite you reminding him this every single time he stayed up into the dark hours of the night to finish his work, he always never seemed to be satisfied. Most of the time you were able to coax him from the stuffy confines of his gaming office, bribing him with sweet kisses and promises of cuddles; when he was in the zone, though, nothing could steer his sore eyes away from the monitor. So with a sweet kiss goodnight, you’d make your way to the bedroom, falling asleep to the faint click-clacks of his keyboard.

It was funny how different you were in that aspect. You always loved mornings, the sun shining through the blinds always brought a smile to your face holding the promise of a bright day ahead. It felt good to never be in a rush, to enjoy the still air, and watch the world around you wake up as people settled into their daily routines. The day’s chaos always seemed to leak through into the dark of the night, but in the morning everything felt new and refreshed; the perfect new beginning to another chapter in the story of your life. Though, allowing yourself the guilty pleasure of staying in bed tangled together with your favourite person every so often wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Okay, maybe it was almost every day.

But who could say no when those strong arms encased you so perfectly, holding you so close you couldn’t figure out where you ended and where he started? Who could say no to his warm skin pressed against your own, the weight of his body grounding you as you pulled yourself from the darkness of sleep? Who could say no to being able to study his face up close, running your fingertip ever so lightly along the curve of his jaw, the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheekbones, watching his eyelids flutter as he stirred softly in his sleep? Who could say no to the pillow talk you shared once those pretty eyes opened, the deep grumble of his morning voice that prickled goosebumps over your skin as he muttered those 3 sweet little words?

Definitely not you.

Well, not often anyway.

Reluctantly pulling your gaze away from the sweet face resting on your chest, you glanced over to the alarm clock on the nightstand. Red numbers reading 9:37 AM that seemed to be glaring back at you pushed any thought of indulging in your morning pleasures straight from your mind. You’d need to be live in 20 minutes. Puffing another sigh from your lips you slowly worked your way out from underneath your personal weighted blanket, trying your best to maneuver him softly onto the pillows to not wake him. Of course, you’d never be that lucky. Hissing through your teeth as your feet hit the icy top of the hardwood floor, you whipped your head around as a warm hand encased your wrist in a loose grip. Beneath messy bed head that could barely be seen from underneath the comforter that you had pulled back on top of him, you see the glimpse of tired eyes clouded with confusion peering out from underneath.

“Angel?” The deep grumble muttered underneath his breath almost made you throw all your plans to the wind and crawl right back into the fluffy clouds you longed to once again get lost in. Huffing out a sigh you slowly turned around, pulling your hand from his grasp only to bury it in the dark locks buried among the pillows. You leaned down softly, pushing your hands through his hair to reveal soft pleading eyes staring back at you, doing nothing but making your heart ache for having to leave so soon. Trancing your thumb along his eyebrow to try and smooth the small furrow that had made its home between them, you sighed softly.

“It’s Thursday, gotta stream puppy.” You watched as a small flash of recognition passed across his bleary eyes, a puff escaping his lips from under the comforter as you watched his chest fall slightly. Pulling his head up from the comforter, you smiled as you felt chapped lips press a small kiss to the inside of your wrist in understanding. Allowing yourself a bit of fun you leaned down pressing your lips to his briefly, giggling softly as a whine escaped his mouth as you pulled away. “Promise I won’t be long, I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

“Too late for that.”

>>>

Smiling as you glanced up at your monitor that held your live chat, you watched as your viewers lost it with your threat to an animated shopkeeper. Times like this are what remind you of how grateful you are to your subscribers, they were practically family at this point and you felt you couldn’t be luckier to have such genuine, warm-hearted people that wanted to watch; even when you were cussing out characters that did nothing to you. You were laughing as you read some of the chat replies out loud when you saw your phone light up with a text from where it was sitting on your desk. Excusing yourself for a moment from the stream you grabbed your phone seeing a message from Corpse. 

Corpsie💞💞: did you order coffee? someone knocked on the door and there’s a paper bag on the step

Cursing to yourself quietly for forgetting, you answered him quickly saying that you just needed to cut to a break on stream and you’d be out in a minute to grab it. He was wary of even opening the front door these days, and honestly, you couldn’t blame him. The last time you had driven out to pick up whatever was sent into his P.O. Box, there were people waiting outside the building. When you went inside to grab everything, you asked the teller what exactly they were waiting for, to which he told you that they were hoping to catch a glimpse of this faceless internet star as this is where he’d go to get his mail. You don’t think you’ve ever walked faster to your car— trying your best to not grab their attention though your body was shaking with adrenaline, knowing they might’ve seen him while he was waiting there for you. Practically throwing open the driver's door, you tossed everything haphazardly into the back seat, telling Corpse to pull up his hood and mask as you started the car and peeled out of there. That was the last time he left the house.

You sighed, dropping your phone back on your desk as well as the switch that had been sitting in your lap, beginning to explain that you needed a quick break to get your coffee and starting to click through the settings to set up your break screen when you saw your phone light up again.

Corpsie💞💞: nah don’t worry i got it

You barely had time to sit back in your chair as you stared at your phone in disbelief before there was a soft knocking on your office door. 

“Just kidding guys, apparently we have a kind guest who’s bringing it to me instead.”

Corpse hearing your voice from behind the door, it swung open to reveal your mop-headed lover sporting his cute plaid pyjama pants and yesterday’s hoodie as he held your coffees and bag in his hand. You grinned to yourself, moving out of the frame of the webcam as you reached out to grab everything, placing it on your desk before turning back to him with a wide smile. Reaching back for his hand, you pulled it down toward you, his body following as your other hand reached up to bury itself in his bedhead. You leaned forward and pressed a small peck onto his lips, mumbling a soft thank you against them as you kissed him once more. While this may have looked like the most simple gesture you knew how difficult it must have been for him, almost wanting to cry at how sweet he was to go to those lengths to do something a little special for you. As you pulled away, you smiled as his face mirrored yours, those soft rosy lips pulled into the sweetest grin you’d ever seen. Resting his forehead against yours, he mumbled back a small “anything for you princess,” the deep rumble of his morning voice sending a chill up your spine as you leaned forward again to steal another sweet kiss. Finally pulling away from you he stood up to his full height, a yawn escaping his mouth; though as he looked back toward the door you could sense his hesitation and grinned widely up at him.

“Do you wanna sit with me for a bit? I can just turn off the camera.” Giggling softly, you watched his head practically whip back toward you nodding a yes as he squeezed your hand, still intertwined with his. Reluctantly pulling it from his grasp, you pulled yourself back toward your monitors as you began to click through your stream settings. 

“Well, your favourite guest has decided to grace us with his presence for a little so I’m gonna have to turn off face-cam, but I don’t think you guys will have a problem with that.” You laughed out, watching as your chat began to surge with messages about him. Making sure there was no way you could accidentally turn on the webcam again, you gestured him over to you starting to stand from your chair to grab the other one sitting in the corner of the office when a hand grasped yours, a strong tug pulling you completely off it with; a small yelp escaped your lips as you fell clumsily into your boyfriend's chest. You could hear his laugh from above you as he maneuvered you around in his arms before falling back onto your chair and pulling you into his lap, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck where you could feel that smug grin that was surely painted on his face. With his arms wrapped around you completely, holding you securely to his chest you knew you weren’t going anywhere. Looking up at the chat a laugh was pulled from your lips as your watchers conspired against you, message after message accusing you of doing something unspeakable behind the camera as being the reason you turned it off.

“Guys, literally nothing is happening.” You laughed out, watching as the chat passed so fast you couldn’t even read a full sentence. “Corpse just decided he wanted to share a chair instead of getting his own.”

“Yeah, my bad.” With no trace of any remorse in his monotone answer, another laugh escaped from your lips. Leaning forward to grab your switch and actually start playing again, you settled back into Corpse’s lap knowing this is exactly where you wanted to be. You were only a few minutes back into the game, Corpse and you occasionally reading out some live chat comments excited about his surprise appearance as viewers slowly climbed— his own watchers joining to watch the stream, when he inevitably started to fuck with you. A chill snaked up your spine as you began to feel small kisses trailing up your neck, you should’ve known this was one of the reasons he wanted to have you in his lap— it was easier to get your attention this way. You could feel that smug little smile drift back onto his face as he heard your voice start to shake slightly; at those moments he’d pull away and start replying to messages before turning back and starting all over again. It was the fourth time he began to press those soft lips to the base of your throat when you shrugged him off and shoved the breakfast sandwich you were snacking on into his face.

“Okay, if you want to share a chair you’re gonna have to behave.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry baby, sorry.” Corpse laughed out, voice muffled from behind the sandwich; taking a bite of it and placing it back in front of you, his chest still shaking with laughter. Deciding to hook his chin over your shoulder instead, he went back to watching the live chat, chatting and answering questions— that is before he came across a certain comment that had him furrowing his brows in confusion.

“What’s this about you folding Tom Nook like a panini?”

>>>

[kittae]

Win-win

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x reader

Side characters: Min Yoongi

Summary: A drabble series where Taehyung is a successful artistic erotica actor but has to expand his areas of expertise in the rapidly evolving world of adult film. Lost and inexperienced in everything that doesn’t involve classy settings, flattering lighting and romantic scripts, he basically has to start from scratch to make it in the online porn community. As a highly demanded A-lister in that community, you take him under your wings (or better yet, between your legs).

Genre: Smut, fluff, a bit of comedy here and there. Maybe some angst, who knows.

words: 1256

Disclaimer: dialogue-heavy, foul language

A/N: things are being set in motion!

« previous — next »

— CHAPTER INDEX —

“–All I’m saying is that you’re not Paul Walker in Fast and Furious and you only drive like that when you’re really upset about something, so why can’t you just tell me? What happened? You missed that cat by a hair, by the way, you almost killed that poor animal.”

Yoongi sighs as he shuts the door to his apartment behind them, keys rattling when he pulls it out of the lock. “You’ll get it when you see it for yourself.”

“What could be so bad that you were ready to drive us to our deaths–”

“Taehyung, for the love of god, stop being dramatic and sit down. Please.” Yoongi groans, a hand coming up to press against his pounding temple, his mind going a hundred miles an hour.

“I’m being dramatic? Wow, okay then.” Taehyung complies but raises his eyebrows, mildly offended by the hypocrisy. “Aren’t you even gonna ask about the seminar?”

“Later. I need you to see this first.”

Taehyung frowns when he sees the website opened on his manager’s phone. “Hyung, i just came back from a three hour seminar, I think I’ve watched enough porn for–”

“Just watch it!”

“Okay, okay! fine…” Tae takes the phone in his two hands and lets the video play. “Oh, he’s cute! So handsome… woah, look at that body!” He whistles in appreciation.

Yoongi only grits his teeth in response.

Taehyung watches the entire video, adding some commentary and making acknowledging noises from time to time. “Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen this guy before, is he new?”

“Yeah, he’s new alright.” Yoongi answers, a pinch of bitterness lacing his tone.

“Okay... What was so urgent about this, though?” Tae wonders out loud, still clueless.

His manager sighs from deep inside his chest. “Tae… please, think. What could be urgent about a young, hot, talented newcomer in a very competitive industry?”

Taehyung snorts, waving away his friend’s concern. “Hyung, new people get into porn every day. Does that mean we have to panic like this every day?”

“No, you don’t get it. He’s going to be your direct rival.” Yoongi presses. “Remember why we’re trying to expand your horizons so you can take on more versatile scripts and different genres. We’re trying to get you as many jobs as possible to increase your online presence.”

“Before a rookie with a 7 inch dick comes along?” Taehyung cites the lecture he remembers.

“Exactly. This guy, this Jungkook, is that rookie. He doesn’t shy away from any trope or genre and is already well on his way on catching up to your following on OnlyFans when you’ve been in the industry for a longer time. Look at the number of subscriptions on his video platform, too. He’s massively popular at the moment.”

Taehyung swallows hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in. His face must be an open book, because Yoongi quickly adds some nuance.

“He’s not better than you, Tae. He’s new, interesting, maybe a little different but not better. You’re at least as talented as him, but we have to step up our game. You just need to level the playing field. We have to make sure you’re not old news by the time this guy hits his peak.”

“But how can we do it fast enough? I’m trying but… I can’t take hard core degradation scripts and BDSM stuff on yet, you saw what happened yesterday!”

Yoongi goes to sit beside his friend, wrapping a slender arm around his shoulders to pull him closer. “Listen, there’s no need to freak out yet– yes, I know how I reacted and that doesn’t help but I’m just thinking ahead. I need to think about every possible outcome, everything that could happen so we can be prepared. That’s my job. Your job is just being you and doing your best, alright? Got that?”

“What if that’s not enough?” Taehyung murmurs, sadness seeping through his words. “What if I’m not enough anymore, hyung?”

“Stop that. You’re doing great, you’re still in the top 5 of most popular adult actors. You just continue to do what we planned and I’ll take care of the rest. You’re going to be very busy the next couple weeks.”

Tae’s eyebrows crease questioningly. “Why?”

“We need to get our asses in gear. We’re too outdated, too old school. You need to be more active on social media and make a lot more content. People want instant gratification, the ones who want exclusive, luxurious stuff will still pay the right price for it. But we can’t rely on those customers alone anymore.”

Taehyung’s face twists with distaste. “Hyung, please don’t tell me I’ll have to be a camboy…”

“What? No, of course not. I know that’s not romantic enough for you.” Yoongi winks, the younger visibly relaxing. “No, we’re going to do something different. And I know the perfect person to help us with it.”

–––––––––––

“A miniseries? About what?” You squeeze your phone between your ear and your shoulder to prevent it from falling while you pour hot water into your favourite mug. “Yoongi, stop apologising. I can make time. Besides, things are a bit quiet since I’ve finished the Dom & Dommer series with Hoseok, so I could use something small and fun to keep me busy, actually.”

“Well, technically you’re not really asking me for a favour if I’m getting paid while doing it, right? So you can stop feeling bad for asking before you make me feel bad for accepting.” You chuckle, plopping down on your couch next to your cat, whom you absent-mindedly start petting as you listen to your old friend’s voice. You blow on your tea to cool it off while he speaks, Mochi purring happily underneath your fingers.

“No, I swear it’s no trouble at all. It sounds fun, I’m excited!” You shrug, a genuine smile playing on your lips. “Stop it! It’s a win-win situation. Um...what does Taehyung think? No! No, uh, you don’t have to put him through, I was just curious.”

Your cheeks feel hot and you catch yourself biting your nails for a second, an old habit you used to have when you felt nervous. “Okay, that’s good. Good to hear he’s looking forward to it, I’ll be too! Okay. Yeah, just send it to me or my agent when you’re done. Alright. Talk to you later! Bye, Yoongi.”

The call ends and you take a sip of your lavender tea. “Ow, fuck! Ugh…” You curse as the boiling hot water touches your tongue, simmering for a few seconds before the burn subsides. You weren’t paying attention, thoughts elsewhere.

Mochi meows, the sound somewhere between indignant and mocking.

“Watch it,” You warn him, your eyes narrowing to slits, which he only takes as a display of affection, returning the gesture before crawling into your lap.

Murmuring, you scratch Mochi behind his little ear. “A miniseries with Taehyung?”

Unaware of how your breathing becomes more shallow, or your heart beats a little faster than usual, you grab your phone to look him up online. Immediately, you’re met with an influx of images from the man you’ve only just seen yesterday. You don’t know why you’re doing this, but you find yourself browsing through his social media as well. It’s probably just because you haven’t done any new projects with a new co-star in a while.

“I should try to know more about him if we’re going to work together more often, right? I’m just being professional.” You mumble out loud, Mochi perking up questioningly.

[soldmysoultootomeboys]

Demon MC with Human Obey Me Brothers Reverse AU

Okay but what if the brothers were all ‘normal’ humans who ended up summoning a demon, who is MC.

I’m in love with this idea. Lowkey might write a fic about this  jk...unless? Levi’s was surprisingly the most fun to write. Also I guess tw for normal demon things??? Nothing too graphic tho

Part 2

Lucifer

As a human he was a high ranking businessman. While still a formal person on the outside he had a perverse interest in the occult that he hid from the rest of his coworkers.

Due to his important position and large pay he manages to get his hands on some rare books on demon summoning. After a lot of research he tries them out.

When he summons you he doesn't look surprised or afraid and is quite clinical about it at first. The first thing he does is bind your powers so they can never be used against him. After he informs the rules you must follow if you're to be living with him.

Even as a human he is quite prideful and controlling and he wants to remind you who's really in charge.

At first he only sees you as a demon. He lets you do your own thing when he isn't ordering you around and when the two of you do go out in public he only introduces you as an acquaintance of his. People are rather surprised at this as he's not the type to walk around with others and rumors quickly fly off about you two.

It's not until you two are walking home from a shopping trip that you really start to bond. It was a late night and no one was around so the two of you take your time, enjoying the cool air and stars.

All too late that you hear the click of a gun. From the shadows steps a man, weapon pointed straight at you. Seeing your nonthreatening human form as well as Lucifer who practically reeks of wealth he thought the two of you easy targets. Wrong.

With inhuman speed you lunge forward shifting into your demon form. The gun clatters to the floor as you rip him to shreds with no remorse. It's only when Lucifer finally calls you away that you realize he's dead.

Once you manage to get home he is immediately lecturing you about how risky the actions you just did were. Someone could have seen you or more importantly seen him. What would you have done if the cops got involved? Eat them?

Once he's done though he thanks you and a few days later a gift ends up in your room. He never claims it, even though you can smell his cologne all over it.

After that night Lucifer treats you different. Not better, but not worse either. If anything he's a bit kinder but in a cold sort of way and he keeps his distance when anything gets too serious. At first you think its because he's scared of you. It isn't till he finally approaches you, a stern look on his face and orders you to transform that you realize he was working up the courage to see what you really looked like.

The pact urges you to turn, so you do and you let him examine you, circling several times. He's most interested in your wings, asking if he could touch them and when you consent he gently runs his hands over them. Despite you being a demon he treats you delicately shifting aside feathers with a careful hand and running a light fingertip over leathery skin.

It's a strange feeling at first, but not bad and you're practically purring by the end

After that he asks to see your true form more and more

Mammon

He didn't mean to summon you.

He just wanted to make a quick buck. It was getting close to Halloween people were starting to be interested in demons and spooks once again. That's why he thought it would be a great idea to start a seance business.

Twenty dollars for him to pretend to summon a demon, maybe shake a table once or twice, have some scary sounds playing in the background, nothing too big. Who would have known that the book he stole as his main prop would really work.

When he first sees you he screams.

He immediately tries to shove you back into the book to no avail. As he has no clue how to get rid of you he ends up stuck with you, a terrifying demon.

At first its very easy (and amusing) to scare him. Bear your teeth, mumble in a made up language, threaten to rip him to shreds.

You can actually see his soul leave his body when he faints.

However in typical Mammon fashion he gets used to you surprisingly quick, especially when you don't come through on your promise to eat him.

After that he figures that together the two of you could start scamming people for even more money. After all, he does own a real live demon now.

You two make bank stealing and tricking people. With his knack for creating schemes and your powers the two of you are rolling in money in no time, although it always seems to be lost pretty quickly thanks to his terrible gambling habits.

It's in the middle of a heist that something goes wrong. Someone, you don't know who you can only hear the click of a revolver, pulls out a gun. With lightning fast reflexes you’re tackling Mammon shielding him with the tip of your wing and just in time as something is shot into it tearing through muscle and sinew.

The urge to rip them to shreds overtakes you, growing with every second that your human is in danger. But there was so many of them and you couldn't protect Mammon and yourself at the same time. The need to get somewhere safe is much more important so you leave.

It's only your quick reflexes that get the two of you out alive.

When you finally get home Mammon laments over all of the money he lost on the deal. acts like it doesn't affect him. His complaints last exactly till he sees the blood staining your form.

He almost faints right there.

Once he recovers he's immediately running to get ice packs and gauze, fussing over your injured wing. It's obvious he’s worried even though he tries to hide it under his tsundere act. When you’re finally bandaged up he thanks you glancing at your wound the entire time.

It's hard not to appreciate the gesture.

You just don't know how to tell him that your going to be perfectly fine in like two days (thank Diavolo for demon healing)

After this you two are a lot closer. Even before you were friends, but now the relationship has morphed into something different.

The two of you do less dangerous scams and while Mammon doesn't act too different he gets super weird when you're too close. Blushing a terrible crimson and freaking out when you touch.

Even for a demon its not hard to see that he has a crush.

Levi

Also summoned you on accident.

He was actually trying to summon Ruri-chan. You have to admit when it comes to her he does his research. Drew a full pentagram and everything and as a final touch placed a little plushy in the middle.

He absolutely panics when you arrive here instead.

Used to humans being afraid you, you ignore him at first. You fall to one knee eager to pledge your loyalty in exchange for his soul when you land on something squishy.

Pulling it out from under you see a plushy??? Of some anime character??? TF???

This pulls him from his stupor and he snatches it from you and begins to lecture you on the importance of Ruri-chan and anime on human culture.

You have no clue whats going on at this point.

When he finally stops talking he actually gets kind of excited. He summoned a hot demon??? Woah! This is just like his anime 'I accidentally summoned a demon from Hell who became my roommate and now I might be falling for them.' 

At your confused look he immediately turns it on and has you watch it. You two end up having an entire movie night together.

After that the two of you mostly act like roommates.

He often compares you to his favorite series TSL where 7 humans summon a demon named Henry and go on crazy adventures with him. The first time he accidentally calls you Henry he blushes like crazy.

At first he acted like you were annoying him most of the time but it was pretty easy to catch on to his tsundere act. He actually loves having you around and will whine when you have to leave. He says its because he can't play two player games without you but you know the truth.

On the rare occasions the two of you go out he gets jealous of anyone with even the slightest interest in you. Your HIS demon why are you giving someone else your attention?

Its pretty easy to distract him though. Just the slightest touch and hes flushing and stuttering. You can do whatever he won't get the hint that you like him the most.

'There's no way you meant to do this. This must be some weird demon norm I don't know about. Yup that's it.'

Satan

Summoned a demon on purpose. And not just that summoned you on purpose.

With his extensive library he had more than enough information to figure out how to summon a demon. After that it was just a matter of choosing which one. He finally settled on you.

You don't need to worry about explaining how a pact works to him. He already knows everything on it. Maybe even more than you. Nerd.

Don't express this opinion out loud. He will be furious.

Even so he'll still make you tell him about summoning a million times just to see if you know anything different.  

Mostly you’re an over glorified assistant/labrat to him. MC grab that book. MC draw this summoning circle. MC stick your hand in this flame.

Of any of the brothers he is the one who sees your demon form the most and the one who asks the most questions about it. You have very sharp claws what are those used for? Four sets of wings? I wonder why you have so many. Slitted eyes? Do you have any idea why they are like this?

He is very interested in the differences between humans and demons so you end up performing a lot of tests.

He would also be curious about the celestial war and your part in it. Its up to you to choose to answer him or not.

If you ignore any of his questions he will get annoyed and be snippy. But just tell him an interesting tidbit about hell and he'll be back to normal in no time.

As for his actual job he works as a researcher at a big lab. You go there often to help him with his work. He used to have a lot of assistants but none could handle his terrible rage.

Its one of the reasons you work so well with him. An angry human? That's no big deal. Now if he was a demon that would be something to talk about

His tantrums are actually kind of cute. Like a fussy kitten.

Telling him this has a 50/50 chance of either making him blush or rampage.

If its possible he uses you to annoy his colleagues

Janice talked shit about his theories on planetary alignment? Poison her

Jk not really but maybe just, like, make her day a hundred times worse?

Thanks MC you're great

A power team at its best. His need to get back at people he hates works well with your general need to cause mischief 

Asmodeus

An orgy summons you obvious reasons. Although technically not the one who summoned you, you end up making a pact with Asmodeus before the nights over.

It was inevitable really, of all the humans there how could you not choose him? His overblown confidence and cocky insistence that he was perfect was practically adorable. I mean here you are, a demon of all things, and yet this little human is here insisting that he was perfection himself. You just wanted to eat his soul right up he was so cute.

To him its obvious why. After all, he was so beautiful that even demons fell in love with him, he couldn't blame you.

Even if you tell him the real reason he won't believe it.

Immediately starts bragging about how he could seduce demons

If you leave a pact mark on him though he will complain

As for actual duties you don't have a lot

At parties you work as his wingman but at home the two of you have more of a domestic role. He treats you more like a best friend than a demon.

He has a lot of spa days, something he immediately insisted that you take part in too.

One day you bring him a bottle of demon moisturizer. Big mistake

When he finds out about all the different demon beauty products he immediately orders you to get him some.

Your poor wallet.

He's always ordering new things. He really wants to go down to Devildom so he could look himself instead of having to order off Akuzon. One day you'll figure out a way to show him the eternal night.

He's also very flirty towards you, something your not surprised about. Hes always on your lap or petting your head or asking for affection, and he constantly alludes to the things the two of you could do. As time goes on he begins to get even more needy, sometimes ignoring others at parties just to flirt with you. He wants all of your attention all of the time.

Beelzebub

Did not mean to summon you but now that your here hes pretty okay with it

Of all the brothers he the one to treat you the most like another human.  

However you have one duty that you take very seriously

You must protect his brother, no matter what.

Other than that you two are like roommates. He doesn't really ask you of much except to keep the fridge stocked (which is a bigger job than expected this guy eats a lot) and he'll take care of the rent and everything else.

Sometimes he'll ask if you want to head to the gym with him. You thank your demon metabolism since every time you end up going he always stops for burgers and shakes at his favorite place on the way home.

He lifts a lot for a human, no surprise since you've seen how sculpted his body is. Seriously he's like a Greek statue. You spot him while doing reps and help correct his form while necessary. It's a bit of a switch from dealing with demon biology to human biology though so you have to make sure that you don't accidentally hurt your new friend.

Sometimes the two of you have movie nights, although its more of an excuse for him to buy a bunch of human food and you to buy a bunch of demon food and pig out. He still manages to out eat you somehow.

Occasionally the two of you will go out with his brother Belphie although it usually ends up with either you or Beel carrying him when he falls asleep. But it gives you time to chat with Beel on your own which you don't mind

The two of you end up with a good bromance, sometimes minus the b.

He treats you like an old friend and even ends up telling you about Lilith, his dear sister who died when a car hit her. He had only managed to pull his brother out of the way at the time and he still remembers it well. You can practically smell the guilt that hangs off him when he tells you that. It's hard not to feel touched after that story even for a demon.

He confesses a lot of things to you, things he has a hard time saying to other people. He never calls upon his pact to swear you to secrecy. He trusts you.

Belphie

Also summons you on purpose

When you first meet Belphie he's angry, uncontrollably angry. It's at the point where it almost surprises you. After all a human filled with so much wrath is no small feat.

His first order is a tough one but one you have no choice but to accept. 

Kill the man that murdered his sister

The two of you work hard to hunt him down, spending many days brainstorming late into the night. Although it always ends up with just you working, as Belphie has the strangest tendency to fall asleep while talking. (Narcoleptic maybe? Or just lazy?) Whatever the case you don't terribly mind.

Even just his presence helps, in some strange way.

When you finally track him down Belphie insists on going too. He wants to see the man die with his own two eyes.

It's not a hard fight but it is an emotional one. Through the bond you two share you can feel Belphies anger, his pain, his desire for revenge, and then finally an emptiness.

When its over the two of you go home, still covered in whatever bits of him were left. Belphegor shows no emotions and you wonder if hes in shock from seeing someone die so suddenly, but all you feel is a tired yet content thrum through your bond.

When you finally get home Belphegor immediately tries to go to sleep and its only through a little nagging and a lot of manhandling that your able to convince him to shower first. By now the bloods beginning to dry into a nasty goop and once he's done you jump in too, soothed by the steam and clouds of soap drifting around you.

To no ones surprise Belphie is asleep when you get out. It's then when you realize that you have nothing left to do. 

With that one action your purpose here is done, and yet your pact remains. Your thoughts begin to rise Belphie who clings stubbornly to sleep. It's no use though. The two of you are too connected for it to stop. 

You hear the sheets rustle and he raises one hand patting at the covers. A universal sign to come here.

"You're so loud" He mutters even though you haven't said a word. "Just sleep already."

A useless answer but a comforting one. You curl up at his side, feeling the tiniest bit like an obedient dog, but his arm settles over your shoulder and he drapes himself over your chest erasing the thoughts from your mind.

You eyes flutter close, at least for the moment. You can decide what you should do when you wake up.

[delimeful]

the end of being alone (3)

Ch 1 | Ch 2 |

warning: mentions of fear, crocodiles, discussion of teeth

-

Logan found himself grateful that he’d made arrangements to postpone their other jobs for a bit, because it looked as though they’d be staying firmly on this planet’s surface for a while.

There had been all of one attempt to bring Virgil aboard the Mindscape, and it had resulted in a significant amount of crying from both the child and Patton. Whatever circumstances had led the Human to this planet, it had left them deeply fearful of any sort of spacefaring vessel.

… This did not annul Logan’s suspicions about smuggling, though he was careful not to say as much in front of Virgil. The child was keen, and any time the fact that they were a Human was mentioned, they withdrew and began displaying body language that Logan believed indicated a desire to flee. Checking that exits were still there, putting space between themself and any of the Mindscape’s crew, anxious tics, and so forth.

Needless to say, they avoided the topic.

However, to Logan’s surprise, the child didn’t seem at all adverse to basic questions about themself. Understanding their responses was rare, of course, but the kid was picking up on Common with a shocking quickness, and Roman had turned out to be rather talented at interpreting their gestures when they didn’t have the right words.

The data that Logan had collected from these inquiries was both strange and intriguing. He’d carefully woven a mental list of it all.

1. Virgil seemed to identify by he/him, though whether that was an actual gender preference or simply a child wanting to be called the same pronouns as the three of them was up for debate. Either way, Logan seriously doubted that there was any way to convey the nebulous concept of gender through a language barrier, so he let the matter lie.

2. After eating too fast, Virgil would convulse slightly in a semi-rhythmic pattern for a short period. He didn’t seem alarmed or pained by this, only slightly irritated when it would interrupt him mid-sentence. The condition of ‘hiccups’ was thankfully temporary, since it made Roman quite jumpy. For their tiny, squeaking nature, Patton had called them ‘hicchirps’, which was ridiculous, but Virgil seemed to enjoy any and all wordplay that made it through his grasp of the language, so Logan stowed his complaints.

3. Virgil was terrified of the locals. Despite being plainly evident, this observation didn’t make sense at first, seeing as the nearby town consisted primarily of native Hiiynal and a few offplanet transfers, none of which could be described as particularly dangerous or violent. After a few days of gentle questioning and no reprimands for not answering, Virgil finally told them that the locals would ‘chase monsters far away’ and so he couldn’t risk getting near. Questioning was temporarily halted in favor of showing the Human the art of shadow symmetry, for purely scientific reasons, of course. 

(Supposition: Human children enjoyed movement games.)

4. While the synthetic meat from the ration kits was accepted by Virgil, he showed a surprising preference for sweeter food items, such as fruit and sugar crystals. Seeing as Humans were rumored to be obligate carnivores or even raw flesh-eaters, this was a strange discrepancy. Virgil had even eaten some of the leafy vegetables Logan had brought, face pinched up in disgust but insisting that eating ‘greens’ would make one tall. It was unclear to Logan what color had to do with nutrients or growth. He was also slightly alarmed at the implication of Virgil being short for his age.

5. Virgil seemed, for all intents and purposes, fixated on Roman.

The latest data point was a work in progress. Logan hadn’t mentioned it to Roman himself, because the Cravon was already fairly worked up over everything the Human did as it was. Nobody seemed sure if this jumpiness was because of the Human child, or on behalf of it.

Still, it was present in little ways. For example, even as he answered Logan’s latest series of questions, his gaze would occasionally flicker up from his hands to Roman, who sat at the mouth of the little cave, carefully peeling more fruit. It wasn’t about the food; Patton had taken it upon himself to make sure the child knew he only had to ask to get something to eat. No, this  ‘almost-staring’ was a frequent occurrence, no matter what Roman preoccupied himself with.

“You were saying you met… Susan… when another predator was attacking it?”

Virgil nodded, hurriedly looking back to his hands. “It was a big bite monster, and Susan was loud crying, so I did, uh,” he lifted his arms up, hands spread wide, “this, and I was loud at it until it ran away. Like raccoons back on Dirt.”

Dirt was apparently Virgil’s name for his home. Logan hadn’t heard of ‘raccoons’ before. He decided not to get sidetracked. “I’d estimate the creature you saw was a Lifel. They are the natural predators of Humlilts.”

“Natural?” Virgil mimicked.

“It means ‘of nature’,” Logan attempted to clarify, gesturing around them. “In the wild.”

Virgil only grew more confused with the wide, encompassing gesture. “Sky? Was not flying.”

Logan glanced at Roman, checking that he was still preoccupied. Patton was back at the ship, contacting a friend for advice. There seemed no better opportunity if he wanted to avoid overwhelming Virgil.

“Virgil, would you like to try something new?” he asked, carefully neutral. It wouldn’t do to put any pressure on the child.

The Human squinted at him slightly, quick to use his most common phrase. “Will it hurt?”

“It will not hurt,” Logan replied, ignoring the tightening in his core with careful practice. It always felt so wrong, that a mere pupa would be so familiar with hurt. “I will always tell you if something might hurt.”

“Mmm.” The Human hummed, the way he always did when they told him such things. Like he wasn’t sure if he could believe it. “What’s it?”

“What is it,” Logan corrected automatically. “It is something I can do, to show you new words. Want to try a little bit, first?” That was the phrase they used for new foods, but it applied well enough to mindsharing.

Virgil clenched and unclenched his hands for a moment longer before nodding, going a little tense like he expected something unpleasant. Logan held a hand out to him, waiting until he’d reached out in return to start sharing.

Small, simple flashes of images and sensations. Quiet forests, shallow oceans, clean air. Plants, bugs, animals, humanoids, living and dying and living again. Nature.

Virgil had pinched his eyes closed immediately at the start of the low-level telepathy, and Logan only had a moment to worry that maybe it had hurt him in some manner.

Then, there was a feeling of recognition. Without a moment to spare, Virgil had grasped the nature of the Vidi and was projecting his own thoughts. Walking on a crunchy leaf-covered trail with other Human young, a winged insect emerging from a cocoon, the crack of thunder and heavy rain on a windowsill. Nature.

“Wow!” Virgil whispered, imprint thoughts flickering like flames, too quick for Logan to really see. “You see into heads!”

Logan pulled back slightly, offering a bit of content-smug in return to the Human’s awe. “That is one way of framing it, yes. So, you understand what I mean, about the Lifel being a natural predator?”

“Carnivore,” Virgil mumbled, and then offered image-thoughts of several creatures that Logan could only assume were from the deathworlder’s home planet. He watched with morbid curiosity as Virgil remembered a clip from a screen, displaying large ungulates with twisting horns crossing a river, and then being dragged underwater by a dark, writhing shape.

“That’s a crocodile,” Virgil told him, his eyes still closed tight in concentration. “They’ve got big teeth and they do death rolls. They look like alligators, but I know they aren’t because gators live in Florida.”

“Florida?” Logan asked. He wondered if perhaps ‘gators’ were kept in captivity for species preservation. Or perhaps they were too dangerous left in the wild?

Virgil showed him a memory of a long, reptilian form with a narrow, tooth-filled jaw. It was wading steadily through a swimming pool, not paying any mind to Virgil, who was sitting with his legs dipped in the pool, watching in fascination. “I lived there!”

“Oh,” Logan managed, his ears going numb with fear at the idea of a child being so near a creature like that. “So it would seem.”

The Human patted him carefully, a gesture of comfort. “It’s okay. The bad guys didn’t take any gators or crocodiles from Dirt. Just people.”

Virgil’s words trailed off, a sense of melancholy overwhelming him. Rather than find out more about the Human’s past, Logan felt an unreasonably strong urge to stop that sadness. “Could you perhaps tell me more about these… ‘crocodiles’? You seem to be quite informed on them.”

“I had a book about them,” Virgil managed, slowly dragging his thoughts away from his abduction. “Did you know some crocodiles have a… a ‘biting force’ of five thousand pounds?”

He had lapsed into English, the sentence sounding well-recited, but Logan still got the general idea of what he meant, and a strong image of a picture book, covered in writing he couldn’t read but still understood. If Logan was right about the measurement conversions, the fact was terrifying.

“That’s very interesting,” he mused, because terrifying and interesting often went hand in hand. “Are there any other predators that can bite like that?”

Virgil scrunched his face up in thought. “Maybe sharks. Oh, but for sure a T. Rex!”

Logan saw a very concerning glimpse of a large fish with too many teeth before Virgil’s mind switched to a cartoon depiction of a larger creature with also too many teeth. He was beginning to see a trend in deathworlder species. “I… see.”

“They’re all dead, though,” Virgil told him sadly, projecting a memory of a huge display of bones. He then seemed to perk up, glancing over at Roman again. “Except for in space!”

Logan narrowly avoided laughing out loud, covering his throat before the vibrating chirps could get far. So, this was the truth behind the Human’s interest!

“Roman is not a ‘dinosaur’,” he clarified, once he felt composed enough to do so. “In fact, I believe he rarely even eats meat.”

Virgil squinted at him. “Are you sure? Maybe he’s a secret dinosaur.”

Logan wiggled his fingers thoughtfully. “I suppose we’ll just have to check.”

---

“Roman, would you come here for a moment?”  

Roman looked up from his task, immediately suspicious. Logan sounded strangely amused, like he was on the brink of laughing at him. That was never a good sign.

Still, the Human was looking over at him with those wide, strange eyes, and he wasn’t about to run away. He got to his feet, leaving his pile of dana peels behind as he crossed the cave floor. “What is it, dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of me?”

“I need you to show us your teeth,” Logan said, very much not being a dear esteemed companion who would never take advantage of him. Roman resisted the urge to hang his head in resignation. He should have expected this. The Ulgorii was shameless when it came to exploiting his friends for science.

“How about absolutely not?” he replied, because there were actually limits to his tolerance for shenanigans, and one of those limits was threat-displaying at a baby Human.

“Hold on, look,” Logan said, and then bared his own ridged teeth with a click.

The Human did his small grimace-smile back, entirely unphased. They both looked to him expectantly. Roman felt as though he was being ganged up on.

“Um,” Virgil said, painfully tentative, “please?”  

Roman felt extremely ganged up on.

He squatted, tail keeping him perfectly balanced, and pulled at the corner of his mouth to show some of his teeth.

“Woah,” Virgil breathed.

“See how the back teeth are narrow but dull? They’re designed to crack bones and get to the marrow at the center,” Logan narrated, like the nerd he was. “Roman doesn’t have the small incisors or sharp molars required for proper full-time carnivores.”

Roman almost reminded his crewmate to use small words, but Virgil seemed to get the idea, leaning uncomfortably close to stare. He then opened his own mouth, like he was planning to take a bite out of something, displaying a shocking number of tiny little bone-teeth crammed inside. Some of them were uncomfortably sharp.

Rather than attack anyone, though, Virgil touched his own teeth, carefully inspecting the shape of them. Roman resisted the urge to get him to sanitize his hands. Kits would be kits, he supposed.

Logan was patiently watching as Virgil pointed to each tooth in turn, and he obligingly recited the name of each type of tooth for the kit. His two lower arms took frantic notes on Human jaw structure, probably to prepare more elaborate meal plans better suited to a deathworlder diet. The kid soaked every bit of information in like a sponge.

Finally, after a long moment of thought, he announced, “My ‘lower canine’ is going to fall out in close time!”

“Soon,” Logan offered, always quick to interpret the Human’s occasional nonsense Common. “'My lower canine is going to fall out soon.'” And then, after a moment’s pause. “Wait, it’s going to what?”

And then, because Roman’s day needed more nightmare fuel, the kit bared his tiny fangs at them and poked one with his tongue, revealing that it did indeed seem to be sickeningly loose. In fact, Roman could see a few other gaps in the curved row of teeth, some with little bits of bone peeking out.

“Stars above,” Roman said, feeling a little faint. Logan was already interrogating a very confused Virgil on whether or not losing teeth was indicative of an illness or not.

“They’re just my little teeth,” Virgil told them, seemingly unconcerned with holes in his mouth. “I get big ones later.”

“There are plenty of species that have milk teeth, but to have their adult set not fully-formed by the time the milk teeth are ready to fall out…,” Logan quickly devolved into muttering, hands flicking.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Roman asked despite himself, eyeing the kit just in case he was going to burst into tears all of the sudden. Roman himself had lost one or two front teeth before his next set had fully formed, and each time it had felt like biting on hot metal.

“Nuh-uh.” Virgil seemed to have moved from confused to amused, still not entirely sure what the fuss was all about. “Not unless I,” he mimed pulling on the tooth, and Roman made a click-click-click of parental don’t-do-that chiding before he’d even fully registered the alarm he’d felt at the motion.

Virgil clicked back at him curiously, sounding exactly like a tiny version of an exasperated parent. Roman tucked his face against his shoulder, unsure if he should laugh or despair.

This Human was really going to be the death of him.

[vaindumbass]

The ministry is good for one (1) thing... getting Tonks a date

‘Why-’ Tonks says to the head that is currently sticking out of her fireplace, ‘Why did you ask me for this job.’

Charlie doesn’t even hesitate before answering. ‘Because you speak French fluently, and because you love me and therefore couldn’t say no.’

Mentally, Tonks curses out the Black family and their fucked up traditions. Why French, of all things? Then she corrects herself and blames her mother instead, for keeping this particular tradition. Couldn’t she have gone hunting when she was ten, instead? Bella always thought that was great fun.

Out loud, she replies. ‘I could’ve said no. If I wanted to.’

‘So you want to do this? Good to hear! You can always thank me later, a gift basket would be nice-’

Tonks scoffs at Charlie’s way too wide grin, a laugh threatening to crack out on her face too. ‘You know what, Charlie?’

‘What?’ he says, smugly, as if he’s won.

‘You weren’t completely wrong. I couldn’t have said no.’

‘I know.’

‘You were wrong about one thing, though.’

The fire crackles as Charlie cocks his head. ‘Well?’

Tonks pulls her face into something sad and melancholic to the best of her ability, and looks dramatically into the distance. ‘I don’t love you.’

Charlie’s gasp is loud enough that Tonks almost fears that he’ll douse the flames, somehow. ‘How dare you! Was all this…. a lie?’ After he has stared morosely into the flames for a while, though, he asks: ‘But seriously, babe, what is it?’

The back of Tonks’ shoulders itches a little now that they aren’t joking anymore, and she feels a bit too closely scrutinized. ‘It’s not that bad, okay? You don’t have to look so worried.’

Charlie still looks worried.

‘It’s just- remember how you asked me so that I could translate what she would say?’

‘Sure.’

‘Well, since she’s here partially to improve her English, she told me that I wasn’t really needed.’

‘Okay.’ Charlie says, ‘And?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You wouldn’t be bothered this much by that. I know you, can’t fool me.’

‘Okay so I may have-’

‘May have or you did?’

Tonks ignores him, words spilling out of her. ‘I may have spilled my coffee on her. And she’s so fucking pretty, Charlie, and confident, which I’m apparently attracted to?’

‘There we go,’ He mutters under his breath. Tonks isn’t done.

‘And she doesn’t sugarcoat stuff, you know? So logically I know that she means it when she says that it’s okay, and that she doesn’t mind me ruining her clothes, but what if she secretly hates me now?’

‘Mhm.’

‘She was perfectly kind, though, and have I mentioned how good-looking she is? Name is Fleur, by the way, and sure looks aren’t everything, I change mine on the daily, but the way she looks when she smiles… Only, there’s no excuse for me to stay around her, anymore, and now I’ll never see her again, and she’ll only remember me as that horrible person who ruined her day.’

Charlie’s laugh rings around the room, warm and comfortable, and some ash gets on the carpet when he finally decides to just step out of the fireplace. ‘I’m going to have to stop you there, babe. You’re not just here to speak the language of love-’ After these words, there’s a horrible eyebrow wiggle, and Tonks makes and even weirder face back, just because she can. ‘- but also to show her around!’

‘I don’t even work here anymore! It really is weird that you couldn’t find anyone else who speaks French. I mean- Sirius does?’

‘Yes,’ Charlie responds, while walking around in her house in that comfortable way of his, easily settling down on her couch, ‘because I know Sirius so much better than I know you.’

Tonks lifts up his legs so that there is some space for her to sit, and then keeps one hand curled around his ankle, the other gesturing wildly, almost hitting the lamp that stands near. ‘I don’t know! You both like animals, right?’

‘You know very well that Sirius has adopted a hippogriff. Now, if it’d been a dragon-’

‘Fair enough,’ Tonks says, because while she loves Charlie’s ranting there’s still one topic she’d like clarity on, ‘But still, aren’t there people who speak French and, like, actually work at the ministry?’

Charlie purses his lips. ‘Maybe. But while I am very aro ace I still have eyes and she’s indeed very pretty, and you are very single, so-’

He can’t even finish the sentence before Tonks has thrown a pillow at him. He throws one back, of course, and soon enough they’re two adults in a full-on pillow war, laughing up and until Tonks accidentally punches Charlie in the face.

She gets him some ice and then they just cuddle on the couch for a bit, legs intertwined, and as Charlie tells her about the proper way to clip a dragon’s toenails, she gets a feeling as if she might just be able to handle the whole Fleur thing.

~~~

Tonks is not able to handle the whole Fleur thing. 

They don’t spill their coffee again, they’re trying to be careful now, but she’s already confusing departments, and accidentally pressing all the buttons in the lift, which isn’t really appreciated by anyone.

Fleur just laughs at that. ‘How did you press all of them?’

‘I was-’ Tonks stammers, ‘I was trying to hold on to something so I wouldn’t fall.’

‘Why not hold on to me?’ Fleur asks, a thick French accent coating her words, and Tonks just stares for a while. Is this flirting? Is it a joke that Tonks is simply too dumb to get? Should they respond to this with ‘but then I wouldn’t have fallen for you’ and some finger guns?

Tonks only knows the answer to that last one (it’s ‘no’, in case that wasn’t clear). ‘It’s- erm- I mean-’

Fleur just smiles at them in a way that Tonks wishfully thinks might be flirtatious. Tonks is suddenly very glad blushes don’t really show up on their dark skin.

A voice calls out ‘Department of Magical Games and Sports’ and Tonks and Fleur get out, because this was the next part of the tour.

Fleur, her eyes lingering on the various posters hung on the walls, says, ‘Aren’t people here supposed to be impartial? This must be inefficient.’

‘For sure,’ Tonks says, never one to defend the ministry, ‘it’s all a bit shoddy, as if it’s taped together with duct tape.’ (They very carefully pronounce that last word. Who knows, maybe muggle knowledge will impress Fleur?)

‘Then why do you work for it?’

A laugh curls Tonks lips. ‘I don’t! Me and Moody, that’s my old mentor, have opened a sort of private detective office.’

They aren’t even walking through the corridor anymore. One quidditch poster (The Chudley Cannons) is slightly crinkled where Fleur’s shoulder is leaning on it. She throws a bit of her long blonde hair over her shoulder. ‘Then why are you giving me a tour here?’

With a bit of a crooked grin, Tonks answers: ‘Like I said, a bit shoddy.’

Tonks likes the fact that they’re talking now, likes it very much, and therefore they try to lean on the wall just as casually as Fleur does, but they miscalculate, and the ground suddenly comes at them with an alarming speed.

‘Watch out!’ Fleur says, from somewhere very, very close, a flowery smell suddenly surrounding them. One of Fleur’s arms is around their upper arm, the other one curled around their waist. Fleur is very warm. Coincidentally, so are Tonks’ cheeks.

They get up quickly, trying not to elbow Fleur, avoiding eye contact just a little bit. ‘When you said I could hold on to you, I didn’t think I’d need it this quickly.’

Fleur snorts. ‘I am not all too surprised, honestly.’

‘That’s fair,’ Tonks' heart is still beating wildly.

There’s a bit of a silence, and Tonks wrecks their brain for something to talk about. They don’t want this to be over just yet. Luckily, Fleur speaks up.

‘How is being a metamorphmagus? I am part-Veela, and I know other magical beings are immune for that, but I do not know much more. What do you change most often?’

‘My hair,’ Tonks laughs, raking a hand through it (short and a deep blue today), ‘It’s partly apart from my body, in a way, so it takes a bit more effort to change, but once it’s a different colour it stays that way without any effort.’

Fleur cocks her head. ‘It takes effort to change?’

‘For sure. Not all that much, but if I change too much for too long I get a headache. I would never change my skin tone, but if I did I’d get really grouchy, most probably. Oh! And I sometimes change my nose and such as a party trick.’

‘Sounds fun,’ Fleur says, a smile playing on her lips. Tonks seriously considers changing their nose into the one of that squid in the cartoon Hermione showed her, before realizing that that wouldn’t impress Fleur, but rather the opposite.

‘It is! But I get tired if I do it too much. That’s also why, on days that gender is-’ Tonks makes a vague hand gesture, ‘- I sometimes wear a binder, because while I can make my chest flatter, sometimes I’ll be concentrating on some work and suddenly, bam!’ They mimick an explosion in front of their chest, pushing their hands forward.

Fleur snickers. ‘Poor you.´ That sounds like the end of the conversation, but Tonks has finally had enough time to get their brain to work again, and they’ve come up with a new topic.

‘So, what are you here for?’

‘Did you not get that information?’ (Tonks had never said it was a good topic)

‘No, I did, but I thought you might be able to explain it better?’

‘Oh.’ Fleur says, ‘well, I am looking into the practical applications of magic, but specifically on magical creatures. Dragons, for example, can be lured to sleep with a sleeping charm, but can resist most hexes without any effort.

‘Giants, who can also resist hexes, can easily resist a sleeping charm, but curses can seriously harm them, and that’s already fascinating, but I’m going to look into what effects other kinds of magic have, outside of wizardry, starting with Veela magic, because I happen to possess that, and that's not even talking about how that magic works. Only female Veela have any sort of non-wixard magical power, but the magic is not stored in the uturus as one might think, because I do not have one, but still have magic. How does the magic know that?’

Fleur had been talking slowly and deliberately ever since Tonks had met her, as if she was weighing the words, remembering the pronunciation, but now she talks faster, a flush on her cheeks.

‘But I'm getting of topic. I will mostly work with stuff like: why does Veela magic affect unicorns but not dragons? Why does it affect giants but not metamorphmagi? And if it doesn’t affect metamorphmagi, then why do you still get so flustered?’

‘I-’ Tonks says, ‘Erm-’

‘Do not worry,’ Fleur says, smiling ever-so-slightly, ‘I think I know the answer. Would you like to go on a date with me?’

Honestly, Tonks didn’t think a dingy corner lined with quidditch posters could ever be romantic, but Fleur makes it work, with the soft lighting on her cheek, and that fucking gorgeous smile on her lips. ‘Yes,’ they answer (was there ever another option?), ‘I’d like that very much.’

In a sudden rush of courage (what are they, a gryffindor?) they ask: ‘Can I kiss you?’

Fleur nods, and they discover that yes, Fleur’s smile tastes as wonderful as it looks.

[theflannelwizard]

Miss Simian teaches the Special Accommodations class

First off, I would like to say that I am neurodivergent, and most of these headcanons are based off my own experiences. If I do accidentally phrase something in a way that offends you, please let me know so I can fix it! Thanks to @onceuponymous to chatting with me about this before I posted it! I will also say that TAWOG is my current hyper fixation, so this might end up being a rather long post! I’ll try to use bold and italics so my fellow neurodivergent fans have an easier time reading it if they want to :)

I think Miss Simian’s class is full of the neurodivergent kids in Elmore Jr. High. This would explain why Darwin and Gumball are in the same class, despite being two years apart in age, and why they are so blind to the rest of the school. They have their routine and their class, and they are purposefully on a separate schedule than the other students. This would also explain why Gumball and Darwin are so frequently sent to the guidance counselor for their outbursts instead of to the principal.

Almost all if not all of the students in her class exhibit common symptoms of neurodivergence, including (but not limited to) having trouble communicating, hyper fixating or having special interests, masking or feeling like the world won't like, understand, or accept them if they don’t put on a persona, fidgeting or stimming, having trouble with focus, expressing emotion intensely or in unique ways, and either adhering to a strict schedule or behaving impulsively.

Let’s start with trouble communicating. This is an obvious and easy one- almost none of Gumball’s classmates communicate in a neurotypical fashion. Juke and William have extreme trouble communicating verbally, and although Juke realizes this, he keeps trying but is unable to “switch” himself to an easily understood language. William doesn’t even realize he is unheard until Gumball declares he is silent.  Banana Joe, Bobert, Sussie, and Jamie all speak in special dialects or patterns that are understandable but set them apart from what would be considered “normal.” Jamie’s is the least obvious, but I would argue that her reliance on threats, often delivered using the same formula, is a unique speech pattern that could have developed in part due to her parentage/home life and in part due to trouble communicating. Gumball has no problem with speaking in an understandable way, but he does have trouble expressing his emotions- he either locks them down or goes over the top with grand declarations and gestures. Likewise, Darwin is able to express himself rather clearly, but he canonically has trouble “learning facial expressions” and is often blind to sarcasm and manipulation, as are many of his classmates. Some students are on the end of the spectrum where they may not have trouble speaking, but they do have trouble reading social cues. For example, Molly is eager to talk to her friends, but can’t always tell whether they are engaged with her stories and doesn’t know when to stop talking. Sarah doesn’t have a clear understanding of boundaries, and neither do Tobias, Sussie, Banana Joe, Teri, Tina, Clayton, Ocho, Gumball, or Alan (despite having good intentions, he often fails to set boundaries for himself, and that’s just as important to notice as those who intrude or don’t understand boundaries for others). In fact, I would argue the entire class has, at some point, shown that they have trouble setting or anticipating healthy boundaries. Once boundaries have been clearly set, they usually are able and willing to respect them, but they can’t always tell on their own what another person is okay with.

Now for hyper fixations and special interests. I would say Teri is one of the most obvious here, with her extensive knowledge of germs and cleanliness. She’s more than just a germaphobe, she has studied hygiene and is obsessive to a point of rarely talking about anything else. Alan could likely be fixated on activism or the general concept of goodness, working overtime to make himself into the most helpful and positive person he can be. Sarah’s fangirl persona goes hand in hand with a fixation on comics, anime, and/or manga. I would even say Carrie’s intense dedication to goth/emo culture could be considered a special interest, and Leslie has a similar relationship to fashion, beauty, and the (heavily coded) LGBT community. Tobias’ obsession with video games has canonically gotten so intense that he neglected basic needs such as sleep- a classic example of hyper fixation. 

As far as masking and persona goes, many of the points I’m about to make could be seen as simple stereotyping to make the characters distinct. I choose to interpret it differently. Gumball, Penny, Tobias, Carrie, Masami, Tina, Clayton, and Ocho have all had arcs or significant moments where they were either revealed to have interests or personality traits that were in direct contrast with their outward persona or revealed to think people wouldn’t like “the real them” as much as the act they put on. For example, Penny was terrified to come out of her shell, Tina doesn’t intend to be a bully but comes off as one due to her menacing mask (for self protection, perhaps, so she doesn’t get bullied herself?), and Ocho admits he has trust issues due to being used for his uncles and not respected unless he puts on an intense and aggressive front. Other students build their identities around a single aspect of themself, either something that they find important or something that they expect will be liked or respected. Tobias, Leslie, Carrie, Alan, Jamie, Tina, Idaho, Sarah, Bobert, Banana Joe, and Masami fall easily into stereotypes and seem to be glad to do so. Clayton goes so far as to commit identity theft simply so no one will see his true self and dislike him. Clayton’s compulsive lying is also a symptom of ADHD.

I’m not going to write a whole paragraph on fidgeting/stimming and focus, because I don’t think there’s too much to analyze or dissect there, but if you go back and watch any episode, you’ll likely notice that many of the characters are easily distracted and/or have unique body movements, postures, or phrases that they tend to repeat. I also think impulsivity and routine is so important to the plot that it doesn’t need to be discussed, but was worth a brief mention.

Let’s talk about emotions! Gumball has the classic neurodivergent experience of either bottling up his emotions with no idea how to express them or going over the top with grand declarations and gestures. He feels things very intensely, as shown by his often dramatic reactions, but isn’t always sure how to process or express them. Darwin is always on one extreme of that scale, with no filter as to how he expresses and feels things. He is unafraid to cry in public, declare that something makes him feel good or bad, or say very bluntly what needs to be done to make him feel better (eg declaring he responds well to positive reinforcement- that sounds like therapist or guidance counselor language to me! Good job, Darwin! I wish I was as clear as you!). Likewise, Penny is prone to meltdowns after she breaks out of her shell, and she is so intensely emotional that she messes up her (likely well-rehearsed) cheer tryout due to being rejected by Gumball, and her physical form changes based on emotion. Banana Joe, Carrie, Masami, Sarah, arguably Anton, Carmen, Teri, Tina, Hector, and Sussie also express their intense emotions in big and obvious ways. Some examples include Masami’s meltdown in The Storm, Teri’s tendency to faint or cry, Carmen’s outburst (possibly a meltdown or breakdown) at her old school, and Tina’s tendency to use violence and anger as a first response when upset, even in “small” ways. (Note- I put small in quotes because something like being told it’s a waste of time to get piano lessons might not feel small to her, and could indeed warrant chasing and attacking Gumball.) On the other side of the scale, we have characters like Alan, Idaho, Bobert, Molly, Leslie, and Hector (again, as he behaves differently with or without his music box), who are capable of being dramatic or expressing emotion, but won’t acknowledge their feelings directly and might even be perceived as not having (many) emotions. For instance, Bobert is often referred to as not having emotions or not being a real person, a harmful stereotype against autistic folks, which is increased by the fact that he is a robot, which autistic folks are sometimes unfairly compared to. Alan is seemingly incapable of feeling negative emotions, to the point where his loss of hope wrecks Elmore, implying that he has a mental or emotional block from feeling and expressing these emotions. Molly references her “special dark place,” implying that she does get emotionally or sensorially overwhelmed, but has no way to express her needs (or lacks the confidence to do so) and would rather remove herself from a situation. Leslie is the most dramatic of the characters with emotional blocks or low emotional expression, but I would argue that since he never openly owns or discusses his emotions, (verbally or otherwise,) and instead turns to petty drama or denial, he also belongs in this category.

TL;DR: Most if not all of Miss Simian’s students exhibit classic symptoms of neurodivergence, be it autism, adhd, or both. Hopefully the many (x character) has (x diagnosis) posts I’ve seen floating around can supplement this theory! And of course, if you don’t buy this interpretation or just don’t like it, you don’t have to agree with me! But I think the idea of TAWOG having a majority neurodivergent cast is comforting, fun, and canon-compliant. :)

[meetthetank]

Cruciamen Chapter 12: Pest Control

Rating: Mature  Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/M, Other Fandom: NieR: Automata (Video Game) Relationships: 2B/9S (NieR: Automata), A2/A4 (NieR: Automata) Characters: 2B (NieR: Automata), 9S (NieR: Automata), A2 (NieR: Automata), A4 (NieR: Automata), Emil (NieR: Automata), Kainé (Nier) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, genre typical violence, On the Run, Monster of the Week, 9S is a half demon, 2B and A2 are shapeshifter Dragons, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut in the future, inaccurate depictions of medical procedures, Fantasy Biology, A2 is Nonbinary Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25104214/chapters/83494138

A2 lies in their bed, blankets askew, and ponders the Elders of their home village while they stare at the wooden ceiling.

The Elders were stubborn, staunch traditionalists to the end, and severe, but they were also wise and kind. They took care of the village and led their people through good times and bad. A2 remembers how the cubs would gather around the Storyteller when she visited their classes, their eyes wide with wonder at the old legends and the old language. They remember the times where cocksure warriors would challenge a passing master and gawp at how quickly the hobbling woman would disarm them. They remember how the village men would study the intricate weaving and architecture of the old builders and seamsters for hours on end and how many failed replications would be offered to lovers as gifts.

A2 remembers how the oldest would hide how their scales and feathers fell out, or how the men’s brilliant plumage would fade. They remember how when an Elder would draw close to death they would hide themselves away from the rest of the village, but everyone would know. A2 would know too, when an Elder was about to die, even at that young age. There is an instinct to let the suffering member of their family sequester themself away, despite their pain.

A2 wonders idly, as they hold a fistful of brittle feathers, if that’s what they’re feeling.

The downy feathers beneath their hair had started to fall out a couple of days ago, right around the time the salves and bandages had stopped working. It wasn’t unusual that their down would shed every so often, typically around the summer months. At first A2 had thought it was because of the humidity of the area that threw off their body’s natural rhythms. Then the feathers had started falling out by the fistful, and they knew something was very wrong. They noticed the swelling of their wounds not long after, followed by the yellowish pus that seeped from them. They’d get exhausted from climbing a single set of stairs and couldn’t eat or drink too much too quickly, otherwise they’d vomit everything back up.

They’re falling apart again.

They should be used to this. Their first month outside their treetop village, they had almost starved before they could find a meal. Then there had been their time spent in the rotting mud of The Bog. Now they’re wasting away once more, but in a much more comfortable way. Sometimes, when the poppyseed milk A4 brings them first hits and their swollen wounds stop aching, they feel as if they could simply drift away into the abyss. It would be a gentle death, a quiet one. Yet every time they awake to the morning sun filtering into their room.

Their chest rattles and aches with each breath; even this is exhausting. Lying in bed, helpless as their wounds seep with infection and pus, their bandages become sticky and tough along with their sheets. When they shift in a vain attempt to find a comfortable position, loose scales fall from their body, leaving the raw skin exposed.

If they hadn’t been taken in by A4 and her convent, they would have died. Wild dogs would have taken them down or vultures would have picked apart their body while they lay helplessly on the ground. But now they’re condemned to waste away...

A fat rat scrambles on top of their chest after sniffing around their pus caked leg. It looks at them with beady little eyes, its whiskers twitching as it sniffs around their shirt. It waits for them to respond, and when nothing happens it begins scratching at their skin, looking for soft flesh.

A2’s hand lashes out, snagging the rodent by the head. It struggles for a moment before they plunge their claws into its neck, severing its spine instantly. The rodent goes limp in their hand as they sit up.

The convent doesn’t eat meat except on feast days, they’ve learned, and when they do they boil it. This raw rat has to be one of the most delicious things they’ve eaten in their life. Their teeth tear tiny strips of flesh and bone from the fattened rodent, its blood running down their lips and chin.

“By the Saints-”

A4 stands in their doorway, her hand over her mouth hiding a look of disgust and awe as A2 slurps down the rest of the rat.

“What?” they ask, as if they don’t have rat viscera stuck in their teeth.

She shakes her head and sets her bundle of fresh bandages and clothes. “You look like s-...” She stops herself from swearing, A2 can tell. “You look worse than yesterday.” The nun’s brows furrow as she looks the coatyl up and down, bright emerald eyes scrutinizing every stain on their sheets and clothes. “There’s more discharge than before, you’ll need to start taking medicinal baths soon if-”

“No way.” A2 grunts and takes another bite. “M’ fine. Just sore.”

A4 glares at them, but keeps her thoughts to herself. She eyes the remains of the rodent in A2’s claws. “Did you… catch that?”

“Yeah.” A2 gulps the last of the rat down their throat.

When A4 gives them a dismissive look at the same time another rat scurries past her feet, A2 leaps into action. They dive for the rodent, scooping it up in their hand and skidding across the wooden floor. A4 stumbles back with a gasp, startled by the sudden movement, but the shock is quickly surpassed by an awkward smile.

A2 struggles to their feet, grits their teeth to hide their pain, and holds out the struggling animal to her. “See?”

“That’s-” A4 stammers. “You’re very good at that.”

A2 grins, strangely proud of themself. “I am an apex predator after all.”

The nun snickers, “About as threatening as a fat house cat.”

They feel their blood run cold at the mention of those animals. The rat in their hand squirms out of their grip and scampers away, escaping into a hole in the wall. “Wh-... cats? Are there cats here?!”

She puts her hands up, quick to quell their fears, as confusing as those fears may be. “Don’t worry! We don’t have any cats here. Which… is also why there’s so many rats…”

A2 begins to remark that rats are better than cats, but a coughing fit forces them to double over. Their chest and throat tighten and they can only clutch at their neck as their body trembles with each spasm. A4 is by their side in an instant with a clean rag in hand. She forces their hand away and wipes the spit and rat blood from their face.

“That cough sounds bad…” A4 mutters while examining A2. “If the Bog Rot has spread to your internal organs-”

“I’m fine!” A2 snaps, then sighs. “It’s fine. Just ate that one rat too fast.”

“Are you sure?”

They can’t stay mad at the genuine worry in A4’s voice.

“I’m sure.”

A4 stares at A2 with those deep green eyes. She stares right through them, leaving A2 to sift through all of the repressed memories that those eyes bring back. They keep their composure aside from biting the inside of their cheek, and it seems that A4 doesn’t pick up on the small gesture. She goes back to her basket of supplies and motions for A2 to sit on the edge of their bed.

After she helps A2 change their bandages, clean their sores, and change them into clean clothes, A4 all but drags them by the arm (gently of course) out of their room. She insists that the fresh air will help every time she walks them around the Convent, and at first it did. The outside air and gentle breeze filled their lungs with renewed energy. Now, each breath of cool air makes their chest hurt and their joints ache.

A harsh gust of wind rattles the leaves of the surrounding woods and cuts through their clothes, straight down to their bones. They can smell rain in the air and the humidity clings to the inside of their throat. With each breath more heat escapes their body. They wrap their arms around themself and fail to suppress a shiver. A4 casts them a worried look but they straighten up and attempt to hide their pain. They keep their head held high, proudly looking at the path ahead. A2 is prepared to face the biting cold moisture with a steely gaze.

They’re not prepared for the soft shawl that gets wrapped around their shoulders.

A4 tugs their arm, pulling them back to face her. She pulls the grey shawl tighter and ties it snug against them. Already, shielded from the wind and mist, A2 feels warmth return to their body.

“Don’t be stubborn,” A4 says, locking eyes with the coatyl. “If you catch a cold on top of everything else, I’m going to throw you in the medicinal baths myself.”

A2 can’t help but smirk. “That’s a little violent for a nun.” They lean down, putting their face right in hers. “And what makes you think you could even pick me up, let alone throw me?”

Undeterred, A4 rolls up the sleeve of her dress and flexes her arm. The tanned skin of her arm ripples with well-toned muscle well-hidden by her clothes and a thin layer of fat. A2’s can only stare wide-eyed at the nun, mouth agape.

“I think I have a chance,” she says with a smug grin.

A2’s mind trips over itself trying to piece together a witty response from the shattered remnants of their consciousness. When that fails they opt for an intelligent response, and when that fails as well, they try a coherent one.

They cross their arms over their chest and huff. “Whatever, I’m still bigger than you.”

“You might be taller,” A4 retorts, jabbing her finger at an unmarred spot near their elbow, “but you weigh a lot less now. Probably about as much as a sack of flour, or a toddler.”

She giggles as A2 shoves her playfully, but their bright smile fades quickly the more those forest colored eyes study them. A2 almost feels how her eyes roam over their ravaged body and the weight of what she said in jest makes itself apparent.

They open their mouth to quell her anxieties, but A4 beats them to it.

“I have to ask,” she begins, wringing a fistful of her white apron, “and forgive me if this is to prying, but…”

She seems to shrink under A2’s impassive gaze.

“Why do you refuse more thorough care?” She asks, “If this illness gets to the point where-... I mean what's the purpose of letting it get this bad? I know I can’t force you to accept-”

“Why does it matter so much to you?” A2 snaps. “Why are you going out of your way to help a total stranger you picked up off the ground?”

A4 flinches but regains her stalwart expression quickly. “I’m a nun of The Order of Devoted. It’s my job to help those in need of aid, regardless of who they might be.”

Her intense gaze never leaves A2 as she waits for an answer. A proper answer. A4 will not allow them to dodge this any longer, not when they’re teetering on the point of no return.

“I hate being indebted to people.” A2 sighs and keeps their eyes forward, locked on something far, far away.

“Wh-” A4 composes herself, eager to pry into her mysterious patient’s inner workings. “How come?”

“Or people being indebted to me, for that matter,” they add. “It doesn’t sit right, you know? Getting a free meal or whatever. I gotta work it off somehow.”

A4 stares at them as if their expression might reveal their hidden self. The coatyl keeps their cool blue-grey eyes locked on the horizon.

“My sister went into a job like that. It was basically volunteering, never got paid or nothing, but it was something that had to be done, and something she’s resented for…”

A2 blinks and shakes their head. “Whatever. Doesn’t matter anyway.”

A4 makes the face she goes to when she’s about to launch into a lecture. Stern, furrowed brows, pursed lips, hands balled into fists. It’s cute.

She opens her mouth and the voice of an old, energetic woman comes out. Both her and A2 spin around to see Sister Margaret leaning out of the dormitory’s kitchen window, waving her arm at the pair.

“Four! I need a hand in here!” Margaret shouts.

“Coming!” A4 responds, then turns to A2 with a giggle. “Guess I’m on KP duty now.”

Even though they’ve only been here for at least half a month, A2 knows that arguing with the senior nun is pointless. They dutifully follow behind A4, wrapping the shawl tighter around their shoulders.

A4 looks over her shoulder, “You know you don’t have to come with me? You can head back to your room if you’d like.”

“What, and stare at the walls all day?” they snort. “It’s fine. I’ll sit down if I start feeling off.”

The two head into the dormitory and over to the kitchen. The scent of raw fish hits A2 the moment they walk in the doorway, their mouth watering within seconds. Ever since they entered the desert all those months ago they’ve had to eat everything but their favorite childhood food. Gazelle, antelope, field mice, and other game filled their stomach but it never tasted as good as a fresh-caught fish.

“Put a little pep in your step there, Four!” Sister Margaret shouts from the other side of a counter laden with all manner of ingredients. “There’s plenty to do and little time to do it.”

A2 can only stare as A4 puts her curly black hair in a tight bun and ties a spare kitchen apron around her waist. She dunks her hands into a basin of water and motions for A2 to do the same, which they do. The warm water soothes their aching joints for a moment. A4 hurries over to her mentor’s side, eagerly listening to the long list of tasks. A2 can’t help but be mesmerized by the way her hair bounces when she nods her head. The two women chat with each other, every so often glancing over to A2 and giggling. Whatever they’re saying, A2 can’t hear it. They're not sure if they want to.

“...Now hop to it, kiddo!” Margaret suddenly shouts, clapping her hands and sending a cloud of white powder into the air. “The Holy Day is in three days and if Mother Superior doesn’t get her Gateau de San Yonah then she’s going to make it everyone’s problem!”

“Holy day?” A2 asks, lifting an eyebrow and edging slightly closer to the basket of fish.

“Yep!” A4 perks up and smiles blindingly at them. “There’s a lot of special days that we observe throughout the year, and coming up is the Feast Day of Saint Yonah. It’s one of our more important Holy Days. Sister Abigail went to the nearest town to get enough supplies that we could make everything we need, and Sister Bernadette spent all day fishing!”

A2 takes that as an opportunity to go over and…inspect the haul. They pick up one of the fish, a sizable river trout, by its tail. Not a bad catch but it isn’t the king of the river at all. They squeeze it to gauge its muscle and fat. Again, not the worst but far from the best. Most of the trout in the basket look much the same if not smaller. There are some other species in there too; small catfish, a little bass, and a few other surface feeders. Nothing remarkable, yet…

While A4 is busy with something, they gulp down one of the smallest fish. Their throat hurts afterwards, but gods it is delicious. They want more, but if they take any more they’re going to feel terrible. It is for something special to A4 and the other nuns after all.

As A2 looks over the kitchen once more, something A4 does catches their attention. She pours a fine white powder into a bowl, followed by water and a pinch of salt. They wander over to her, craning their neck around to get a better peek at what in the world she’s doing.

“Would you like to help?” A4 asks, smiling at them.

“I would but…” A2 shrugs, “I have no idea what you’re doing.”

“You’ve never made-” A4 stops herself and looks back at A2. “...Do you cook food?”

A2 shakes their head, “Coatyls have raw diets. We don’t cook.”

“Ah. That explains the rats.”

Sister Margaret cackles, “If you’re so hellbent on paying us back, you should be our rat catcher!”

They scrunch up their face at that, not knowing if they should be offended or not. But at the same time… It’s almost the perfect job for them, at least for now.

“... Maybe,” they respond with a smirk. “Lemme think about that.”

“Anyway!” A4 shouts, bringing their attention back to their bowl of powders. “Making bread is easy. Here-”

She steps out of the way, taking A2’s hands into hers, and shoves them into the bowl before they have the chance to protest. The water and white powder on their hands makes for a… strange texture to say the least. They want to recoil away, but A4’s strong tanned hands keep theirs in place.

“Just mash your hands in there until all of the flour comes together into one ball.” She explains.

“Flour?”

“The white stuff.”

“Ah.”

They do as she says and clumsily try to bring together the flour and water, and to their surprise the strange slime does actually form this malleable… paste. The more they work with the paste the more pleasant it is to touch.

“Oh- before I forget.”

A4 suddenly rushes away, leaving a bewildered A2 wrist deep in a bowl of not-yet bread. They keep playing with their paste until she comes back carrying something covered by a thin cloth.

“Here,” she says as she unwraps her gift, revealing a loaf of honey-scented bread. “I saw you snatch a loaf the other day and try to play it off. If you like them so much you can just ask, silly.”

They blink, dumbfounded. “You… made this for me? Why?”

The nun sighs, glaring up at them. A2 can’t help but notice the way her cheeks flush red for a moment. “Because I’m being nice to you, idiot. Is that so hard to understand?”

A2 can only stare in awe as A4 sets the loaf of sweet bread down beside them with a huff, and as a strange, familiar warmth fills their chest.

“Oi!” Sister Margaret shouts, snapping A2 and A4 out of their thoughts. “If you two are going to flirt instead of work, go outside!”

The old woman waves her large wooden spoon at the two. A4 promises her mentor over and over that she’ll get back to the mountain of work ahead of her. Not once does she deny Margaret’s jab about the two of them. Somehow, that makes A2 smile.

[p---ink]

Stark Contrasts: Chapter Two

Author’s Note: Hey guys, an anon asked for angst, so I gave them a bunch of drama with this chapter. Though I personally wouldn’t classify this as angst, im gonna tag it that way. I think angst is more like a story with a depressing tone, but this is more so dramatic if anything.  But don’t worry I sprinkled in a bit of fluff and some smut to lighten it up a bit. This is a sequel to Stark Contrasts, which I recommend reading first in order to get a background of what led to this chapter. Caution, I used google translate, to add in some French. If any French readers find it offensive or wrong, let me know so I can take it out or edit it. I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter, it took me over a week to write due to writer’s block, but I am pretty happy with the outcome. Once again PLEASE DON’T REPOST MY WORK! 

Summary: Edward Stark realizes the errors of his ways towards the reader, and tries to woo her in order to save their relationship.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, cheating, age gap, daddy kink, etc. 

Song: From Eden by Hozier for the first half, and Run by Hozier for the second. 

Word Count: 11.2k.

Parts: one | two | three | four | five

Chapter Title: Daddy Issues. 

So much had changed since your night with Tony. For one, the entire dynamics of your relationship. Long gone were the unsure lovers with unresolved sexual tension. You two were more confident in your affections now, and this made you reach a new level of comfort within each other and within yourselves. Through the eyes of a stranger, the description would be that of an old—in love, married couple. 

Though he was much older, you were the more mature one. Tony enjoyed doing things just to annoy you. He found your irritation both adorable and sexy. You would get so pouty, and your voice would go up at least three octaves. If he really did his job right, you would end up banging your small fists against his chest, which he thought was the cutest shit in the world. He took pleasure in poking the sides of your stomach, when you were performing tasks that took your attention away from him. “Kitten,” he’d whine when you were entranced in a book, “put that down, and come and play with me.” Then he would lay his head in your lap and talk about absolutely nothing until you noticed him. He only ever drew the line in his endeavors when you were studying. He preferred his head attached to his neck, rather than rolling on the ground. 

Besides always trying to piss you off, he religiously spoiled you rotten. That extravagant lace pale blue body con dress that you saw in your favorite shop? Better believe you’d find it on your bed the next day after Edward left for work and you were getting ready for classes. He would place expensive Cartier bracelets around your breakfast muffins, and bvlgari necklaces around the necks of gifted stuffed animals. He loved buying you luxurious gifts, ranging from earrings to bags. But besides your pleading for him to stop, he knew you struggled to find ways to hide it. If he happened to notice it, explaining to Edward where you got the money to pay for diamond encrusted rings would prove difficult. You were only able to wear your shiny new gifts when you were out with Tony; he found other ways to spoil you however. There were many days, where you had nothing planned, and he’d surprise you with a day at the spa, or a night on the sky in his private helicopter. If it had been up to him, everyone in the world would know you were his, but he just couldn’t risk being seen with you. Because of this fact, he had to become creative with the ways he treated you. From the rooftop dates in secluded towns to the lavish wine tastings alone in Napa, you had experienced more with Tony than you had in your entire life. When he could arrange bullshit business events for Edward to attend, he gave you bullshit reasons to fly with him to Paris, Italy, Greece, and everywhere in between. While Edward had his trips, the two of you had your own. 

Of course you always felt it was too much when he would do all of this. However, no matter how much you begged him to stop spending money on you, he never listened; it was like second nature for him to give you the world and more. He felt it necessary for someone he believed created the moon and stars. 

Most who knew him closely thought he was an asshole. He would often over-talk, dismiss, and challenge others. They always pinpointed on his shortcomings, forgetting that he was a good man in the process. He was a genius billionaire philanthropist, for fuck-sake, who many a time sacrificed his own desires for the wellbeing of others. This is why he always felt guilty. The one thing he kept to himself, the one thing he was not willing to give up, was you, even though you belonged to someone else. 

He just wouldn’t give you up though. Tony adored you. When the rest of the world felt like pollution in his lungs, you were his breath of fresh air. He was intoxicated by you. Enamored in your existence. He saw you as perfect which he knew was impossible in a world full of imperfections. 

He became obsessed with your hair, curious as to how it could defy gravity some days, then dance on your shoulders the next. He needed to know the secret on why the sun resided in your skin, giving it a mahogany glow, with golden undertones.  Your soft full lips, coffee-colored with a tint of pink, were his eternal bliss. It didn’t matter if you smelled of his sex the morning after or if your tired eyes were baggy from a night of studying, he knew you were the most beautiful person he laid eyes on. It was just as simple as that.

Tony wasn’t the only one to change. One could argue you became more bold. Where he showed his love through gifts and adoration, you showed yours through care and touch. “Tony, you’re working too hard. Come to bed now," you’d urge when you’d find him in his study hunched over a stack of papers at his desk. If he had too much on his hands, you would happily take over to help him get done sooner. You were surprisingly stubborn, and would stand firm in your attempts to get him to take care of himself. Though Tony loved annoying you, he hated when you were worried. If he was sick, you’d drop everything to tend to his needs. Whether it was making homemade soup, or driving halfway across town to get a specific type of medicine; you would do it for him no hesitation. It got the point that whenever he wasn’t feeling well, he tried to hide it. In a way being ill made him feel insecure and old. You couldn’t give a shit about those silly worries of his though, because if he needed to be taken care of, that’s what would happen. When nameless idiots over the internet spoke bad on his name, you were the first to draw your sword to defend him. You could never tell him that, but the screen name Tonysbitch99 wasn’t really fooling anyone; how could it when the anonymous face behind the name would say exactly what you would? To you, your love felt minuscule in comparison to his. It’s the reason you hated when he spoiled you. Tony however, appreciated your gestures, and felt that he was the one that was lacking. In reality your love language complemented each other perfectly. His love for you was loud and vocal, whereas yours moved silently. He needed you to ground him, while you needed him to drown out any shadow of a doubt that his actions were genuine. Besides, what could you possibly do for a man that had everything in the world?

Among other things that were now different was the constant sex. You two fucked like rabbits. He once cleared out an entire store just so he could fuck you in your dressing room. Your favorite times were when he didn’t clear the store at all. “Daddy, someone might hear us” you’d moan into his skin while he thrusted into you against a wall. “I want them to.” He would counter, before picking up the pace to build your reaction. On the way home from dining out, you would often ride him in the backseat of his car, the two of you clawing at each others skin desperate to get closer. When you just couldn’t wait to get home from your outings, he would start fingering you underneath the restaurant table while whispering sweet-nothings into your ear; this usually resulted into you getting dragged to the nearest bathroom stall. On nights where Edward was home, he would come up with any excuse to get you alone so he could bury himself into you. The two of you were playing a dangerous game, but Tony was an addict and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon. 

Perhaps the person to change the most though, was Edward. Whether it was because he learned to work hard for the things he desired in life, or the fact that said things could be taken away from him in an instant, he was changing. Most importantly, he saw that you were changing. Tony and you may have thought him to be a self-absorbed idiot, but he saw the fading love marks that littered your neck. He saw the expensive shopping bags filled with shoes and high-end lace, carefully tucked away in your shared closet as if it was meant to be hidden. The new housekeeper bought your hand-stitched lingerie in with the laundry, smiling to him relishing in how lucky he was. But you didn’t wear that for him. He saw the way you bounced around without a care in the world, even though he had not done right by you for the entirety of your relationship. Who was all of this for? Whose texts were you chuckling at while you laid in bed so late at night? Whose scent was embedded in your bedroom sheets? Whose hickeys bruised the surface of your skin? Who was all of this for? 

It was true that he was somewhat of a different man now. Edward in the past would have accused you of being the biggest slut in the world. This Edward however, knew that he had no room for anger. He had absolutely no room for judgement. He had cheated on you since the genesis of it all. That didn’t change the fact that he loved you. He meant it when he said you were his forever girl, and that you were the best thing to ever happen to him. How could he be so foolish and let you give his love away?

“Dad,” he started, looking up to observe the older man. He and Tony were currently sitting opposite in their breakfast nook. Tony with his legs folded, newspaper in hand, orange juice in the other, hadn’t even looked up to acknowledge him. All that could be heard was a barely audible “Hmm?” 

“I think maybe I need some time off from the company” He stated.

Expecting his father to just be okay with that, he was slightly taken aback when Tony replied, “Why is that?” briefly meeting his eyes before returning to the words on his paper. 

“Well, its actually about Y/N” at this, he had his full attention. 

“What’s wrong with Y/N? Is she sick?” Slight panic dripping in his words.

“Well no but…” he began, trying to find the words to say. 

“But what Edward? Use your words, kid!” He demanded, tone a few notes away from a shout. He saw the surprise in his son’s face, so he straightened himself and said “Sorry. It's just you know how close we are. She’s my best friend.” He wanted to say you were his girlfriend, but best friend reigned true as well. 

“Well,” Edward began again “Our relationship is in shambles. I’m pretty sure she’s cheating on me and I don’t want to lose her. She might be the only woman who’s gonna put up with my shit. And I know she’s genuine because she doesn’t ask for my money. I feel like if I’m here more, I have a chance of rekindling our connection” Edward stated, confiding in his father, hoping to find some sense of relief. He hadn’t realized how hurt he was. Is this how he made you feel? Tony almost felt guilty. But protectiveness over you soon clouded his sense of remorse. Who was he to try and take you away from him? 

He examined his son. The younger boy looked like he hit copy paste on his mother’s genes. They shared the same facial features, down to her high cheek bones, only Edward had raven black hair and dark brown eyes. He was more compared to Robert Pattinson than he was to his own father, even though he looked nothing like either of them. Man, genes were a funny thing. 

Tony thought about his words. It was true that you were humble and any other woman with an ounce of self-respect would have hit the door running the minute they found out how sleazy Edward had been. You almost did, until you met his father.

He put down his newspaper, turned to Edward and took in a sharp breath before saying, “She is taken care of, so you have nothing to worry about. There isn’t any unknown man coming in from off the street sniffing around your woman.” Tony chose his words carefully. They were cautiously crafted so that he technically told the truth. He was many things, but he hated to be called a liar. 

He read the uncertainty in Edward’s face, then continued his case. “In all honesty, Ed, you know I need you at your desk. You wanted this, are you really gonna let your insecurities get in the way of that? If so, maybe I should find someone better to take your—” 

Quickly interrupting his rambles, “No dad, listen. I don’t want to give up my seat. I’ll just have to find some other way to solve our issues.” 

“Exactly what issues do you have?” Tony pressed, eyebrows knitting together. 

“Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s cheating on me. I’m sure of it.” He confirmed, staring blankly into his father’s eyes. What does know? Tony thought to himself. Does he know it’s me? “Besides why are you getting so defensive?” Edward challenged. “It almost sounds as if you’re mad.”

“It’s just I know what kind of girl she is.” He defended, throwing his hands up and sitting back in his seat a bit. “She wouldn’t cheat on the man she loves. And I’m sure she cares about what you think.” Taking in his words after a moment, Edward chuckled to himself. His dad was right, you had to care about him. Why else would you still be here despite how much he had put you through. 

“Thanks dad. I think I was worried about nothing for a second there.” In the back of his mind, he still knew you were sleeping around, but now he was certain that it was all done as a cry for help. You just wanted his attention. He felt silly. He smiled to himself, then to his father. Tony returned a weak smile; the rest of his face couldn’t fake the empty sentiment. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you came in to distract them. You came bounding down the staircase on your way to make some breakfast before your trek to school. Both of the men instantly averted their attention away from each other, to instead lay it onto you. 

It was a cool fall day, so you were wearing a cropped white turtleneck that you paired with a pleated floral skirt. Long tan thigh high boots hugged your brown legs in just the right way, and you wore a simple (but expensive) necklace that Tony purchased for you. You used to care, but now you thought nothing of it since you knew Edward never paid any attention to you. Today happened to be one of those days that you were wrong. While Edward silently fumed over your choice of jewelry, Tony thought of new ways to violate you. With your consent, of course. 

Focused on the iPad in your hands, you failed to notice anyone else in the room until you heard the creak of a wooden chair. Looking up from your device, you were greeted by the men of the house eyeing you meticulously. “Oh sorry. Good morning” you smile, shy from the sudden attention.

“Good morning sweetheart” “–Morning babe.” Tony and Edward say simultaneously, surprising each other, and surprising you. As they say it,  their necks snap towards each other for just a second and their expressions match; furrowed brows and clenched jaws. Your eyes widen for a second before you continue on with your business. 

Before swallowing the awkward silence, Tony begins, “You’re down here pretty early. Do you have something important to do?” 

“I don’t have anything planned, I just wanted to wake up early to get some things done before class.” You returned, searching the cupboards.  

Upon hearing your plans to do nothing, Edward sparked up an idea. He cleared his throat, and rose from his seat to hesitantly trudge over to you. At the moment, you were standing on your toes trying to reach your favorite coffee mug in the top of the cupboard. Tony always placed it there to watch you struggle, just like he was doing right now. While taking pleasure in how cute you looked bouncing up and down, he hadn’t noticed Edward leave from his seat until he blocked his view. He shadowed your form to place a hand over yours bringing down your mug. Slightly startled, by his touch, you dropped it. It fell into his hand before it could shatter on the floor. “I’m sorry for scaring you.” He chortled, turning his lips into his famous sexy grin. It did nothing but repulse you. 

“Its fine.” As you take your mug and turn away from him to pour your coffee, Edward wraps his hands around your hips to turn your body towards him. You were now facing Tony, but even if you weren’t you would be able to sense the daggers he was throwing into Edward’s back. His orange juice glass was on the verge of shattering, and the wood on the table threatened to splinter his fingers, from the grip he had on it. He wasn’t supposed to touch you. 

“So I was thinking” Edward began, dragging his thoughts out. “Since you don’t have any plans, I’m taking you out tonight.” You mentally cursed yourself for going into detail about your day in front of him. Mouth agape in utter disgust, you were at a loss for words. Tony could think of a few he wanted to say; however, but he stayed silent. Edward took your silence as surprise. In his eyes, you were happy to finally be spending some time with him. Everyone just stared at each other. Edward at you, you at Edward, and Tony back and forth between the both of you. “I can tell you’re happy.” His hands began to roam up and down your sides as he spoke. He drew a line up your spine, and pressed his lips to your ear before whispering, “Make sure to wear something sexy—”

“Edward sweetie, as the boss, don’t you think you should be at work bright and early.” Tony advised. Saving both you, and Edward. He worked very hard to ensure his words didn’t fall through gritted teeth.

Without taking his eyes off of you, Edward rolled them and smirked at you, as if you too were frustrated with Tony for cock-blocking. He quickly pecked your lips and went to grab his workbag. Your eyes followed his movement about the room. Just before exiting the house, he turned back to you to say “Be ready at seven” and then he turned the knob to leave.  

You, Tony, and silence were all alone together. You didn’t dare look at him, but the side of your face was burning from the glare he had on it. Acting as if nothing happened, you turn back around to prepare your day.  

Still staring in your direction, it was now Tony’s turn to get up. He leaped from his seat to take long strides towards you. He stopped just short of where you were standing, waiting for you to acknowledge him. You tried to busy your hands with your current task, cracking eggs into a bowl, waiting for him to break the silence; he was waiting for you to do the same. The sound of egg yolks hitting the surface of the bowl, followed by the stirring of a whisk were the only noises to be heard in the kitchen. 

“Yes, my love?” You ask after a few moments, the quiet becoming too unbearable. 

“Why aren’t you looking at me?” He replied, eyes boring into the side of your head. 

“Tony what are you talking about. I’m busy.” You sigh, growing annoyed. 

“Well fine, if you won’t look me in the eyes, can you at least answer me this? What. The Fuck. Was That?” He asked, soaking his words in drama. He placed his hand flat onto the counter awaiting an answer.

“I honestly don’t know.” You answer truthfully, still whisking your eggs. 

“Well did you two make up?” Tony pressed.

“No, I guess—”

“Well then why did he kiss you?”

“Tony, I don’t know wh—”

“Well then why don’t you know?”

“Could you let me finish!” You shouted before giving him your undivided attention. Your outburst both surprised and shut him up. “I don’t know why he kissed me. I don’t know why he asked me out on a date. We did not make up, because as usual we don’t say a word to each other. Fucking hell, this has been the first time in a year since we’ve been in the same room for longer than a minute, besides when we’re asleep.” You end your rant with this “All that I know is this, I don’t care. I’m not going on that date because I would rather spend the night with you. To be completely frank, I think I’d rather spend the night in a closet with murderous clowns, than go on a date with your shitty son.” With that, you walk away to aggressively click on the stove to begin cooking your breakfast. 

“Well,” Tony began, only slightly taken aback. “I know he’s shitty, but you didn’t have to say it. He is still my son, so I’m the only one who reserves the right to call him a shitty.” He chuckled, leaning opposite to you against the counter, looking down to observe your actions. 

“And to that I say, when you do a piss-poor job at raising a man to respect women, then anyone reserves the right to call them shitty.” You comment, meeting his eyes with a small smile before turning back to your  cooking. 

Tony smirked at your remark. “Blame his mom, because I’m a total feminist.” He grasped your chin to turn it towards him, bringing his face down to kiss yours before abruptly stopping. He took a paper towel from the bar, and began wiping your lips, earning a glare from you, that soon turned into a fit of laughter. His smirk only grew wider at his successful attempt to diminish your anger. 

“You make me sick.” You roared, calming down from your fit, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a deep kiss. When you were ready to let go, Tony wasn’t. Ignoring his needy looks, you turned back around to your task at hand. Like that, the mood changed from light-hearted, to serious in an instant. Unsatisfied, Tony moved from his spot at the counter to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against his chest. 

“You know I could get used to you yelling at me. It really turns me on” he said, rocking from side to side which made you sway in his arms. 

“Babe.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, rubbing a finger down your spine the same way Edward did earlier, only this time instead of chills and shivers, you felt warm tingles. 

Not now.” You warned, already knowing where this was going. He pushed a bang behind your ear to admire your neck.

“Why not. Can’t you skip school for just one day?” Tony responds, fanning his lips over your ear.

“ No. No I cannot.” You reply, trying to overlook the kisses he planted against your neckline, and the traveling hands against your curves. 

“Then just be a little late.” He said, palming your chest, taking his time to massage the fleshy mounds. You lose your composure as he brings a hand down your sternum to dip underneath your skirt. You both groaned, him at how wet you were, and you at how good his hands felt. “Besides I know you wanna stay a little longer.” His voice was shaky and husky, and he was about to snap, which made your knees like jelly. 

“Tony, please.” You were going for stern, but your demands came out in labored pants. You felt his hardened member pressed against your ass and back, and you knew if you didn’t stop him now, there was no way you were leaving the house any time soon. You unfastened his hands from your waist, and pushed him away from you before continuing your cooking. You cleared your throat to say “Maybe later.”

Seemingly defeated, Tony started with a sigh “Fine. No more teasing. But I’m hungry.” 

“I have time to make you some French toast or pancakes.” You respond, placing your cooked breakfast on a plate and turning the stove off. 

“I think I’ll have you instead.” He says, before planting one more kiss beneath your ear.

“No thanks love.” You chuckle. 

“I wasn’t asking,” he retorted, before hoisting you up by your knees and placing you on the island away from the stove. You laugh in the process, knowing that this was inevitable. Upon sitting you down, his lips were on yours in an instant. Hurried sloppy kisses, covered your mouth and jaw as he explored your body with his fingers. As he traced his the index along your collarbone he realized he found new things to worship every time. His lips were hot and wet on your skin, both burning and soothing everything in their path. Breaking the kiss for just a moment, he brushed passed your shoulder  to push everything that was on the kitchen-top’s surface to the ground. 

“You’re cleaning that up this time.” You exhaled, before grabbing his face to bite his bottom lip, something you knew drove him crazy. 

“Fuck it princess, it’s worth it.” He groaned, before roughly pushing you down, while being careful enough to not injure your head. He reached up your thighs and under your skirt, to pull your panties down your legs and over your boots. 

“Let me take these off” you suggest, lifting the band to your shoes, but he raised his hand up to stop you, eyeing you through his tousled brown locks. 

“I like them on.” He pressed a gentle kiss against your exposed skin, before saying “I’m keeping these by the way.” in reference to your lacy black underwear, before stuffing them in his back pocket. He bent down to pepper love-marks along each leg before lifting your skirt to place a soft kiss against your entrance. There was no time for him to be a tease, so he quickly dived his tongue between your folds, and he began writing his full name into your lips. The name Anthony Edward Stark felt both long and short, as it was being etched into your core. Shocks of what felt like electricity rippled through your spine, as your pussy purred to his beckoning. You were a fucking mess. He let a string of spit fall from his lips and onto yours, before flattening his tongue to gather the mixture, slurping and suckling in the process . Your eyes started to roll to the back of your head, until Tony pinched your clit. This became his favorite signal for you to give him your attention, the jolt always conflicted your pain and pleasure receptors. You loved and hated eye contact. That feeling of vulnerability sent your mind into a frenzy. But Tony refused to let you look away; he was obsessed with the way your face looked when you came undone. He began making the lewdest sounds against your cunt, tonguing it in the same way he’d do your mouth. You made a mess of his face. Your juices were dripping down your folds and in between your cheeks; what his tongue didn’t catch spilled onto the island. With his face buried in your box, his nose would lightly brush your clit, sending you straight into ecstasy. 

You slightly squeezed around his head, only to have him pry your legs open. His tongue fucked your hole, making you clench around it.  You were already so close, but Tony wanted this to last—that way, you’d be bursting at the seems by the time he was finished with you. “Someone wants to be fucked senseless, doesn’t she?” He asked as he raised up, licking his lips. Smirking down at you, he lifted your sweater up to your chin, in order reveal your happy breasts. He then pulled your bra under them to get a full view of the spread.  

Dragging you closer to the edge, he massaged his fingers into your pussy, running them through your lips, while watching you squirm underneath his touch. He placed a hand between your thigh, kneading the immediate area with his thumb. He was enjoying the view, but knew that he only had a few minutes left; so, he pulled his pants down, coated his length with the hand he previously used to massage you with, and sunk into you no warning. 

You took in a sharp breath, tears welling in your eyes and chest rising and falling. As many times as you had been with him, you still weren’t used to his size. “Shit, kitten. I’m sorry, I thought you were ready for me” he swore, grunting at the feel of you. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he wouldn’t move until you said it was okay. 

When the pain subsided pleasure quickly took over. You looked him in his eyes to say “Please wreck me baby.” He crooked his neck to look at you sideways for a second as if to ask ‘are you sure?’, dick twitching inside of it. You were more than sure. Then, before you were able to comprehend he snapped his hips forward, drilling into you at a brutal pace. Your moans and pants turned into screams, and you braced your hands against his abs. He grabbed your wrists to steady himself, so that he could thrust deeper into you. He loved this shit. The way your chest bounced. Your broken moans and cries. Even the expressions you wore, were enough to spur him on. 

“I can do this all day!” He growled, relentlessly hammering into you. He thought your tight little cunt was euphoria. At this point you felt like he was in your stomach, threatening to go further. You felt your dam about to break once more, but he was a step ahead of you. 

He sat you up and pulled you off the counter, quickly turning you around, ridding you of your orgasm again. Frustrated, you wiggled your ass, and pressed it against him, desperate for his touch. This earned you a harsh slap against the cheek. “Don’t play that game with me, unless you don’t wanna walk for a week” he warned before digging his nails into your skin. Within a second after that, his cock vanished behind your walls, instantly hitting your g-spot. You yelped throwing your hands back to cushion the slaps between his thighs and your own. Tony grabbed them, and like before,  used them to pull you back onto him. “No, no princess. Take all of me baby. I want you to feel it all.” He growled, slamming his frustrations into you. The cabinet doors below you were shaking from the impact of your thighs. Your nipples, slid across the cool countertops as Tony stroked in and out you. You laid your head down on the counter, strength leaving you as he rocked you back and forth.

To reach a better angle, he grabbed one of your knees, lifting it to lay beside your hip against the counter. He then leaned over, so that your back was against his chest. “This pussy is mine, do you understand?”

“Yes daddy.” You whimper. 

“I’m sorry what was that?” He challenges, grabbing a fistful of curls to yank, lifting you both back up.

“I said yes daddy” you shout, approaching your orgasm once more. 

Tony roughly grabs your chin to turn it towards him, pressing his forehead against yours. “I can tell you’re close princess. I can feel you getting tighter around me. But good girls always ask before they cum. Beg for it.” He whispered. 

You knew he wasn’t joking, but you wore your worried expression on your face. “Don’t be shy kitten. It’s just you and me.” He assured, lightly kissing your lips as he spoke. 

“Please let me cum Tony.” 

“Do you think you deserve to?” He questioned, suddenly ticked off from Edward’s bold gestures earlier. His lips ghosted over yours and he began slowing his moments, to really pound himself into your core. “You’re a filthy little slut for letting another man touch you.” On any other occasion, his words would have pissed you off, but in this moment they just made you wetter. 

“I only want you to touch me daddy, I’m sorry” You whine, throwing your ass back onto his cock, determined to take your orgasm, but wary of the consequences if you do. 

He gripped your neck with one hand, and grabbed a tit with the other. He fondled and massaged the breast, while applying pressure with the hand on your neck. He places his face to the side of yours, chin hairs tickling your cheek.“Do you promise to never let that happen again? Hmm?’” He presses, squeezing your breast and tweaking your nipple. All of this was happening while he was continuing his movements in and out of you.

“I promise baby, please just let me cum.” You screamed. You were losing your composure, and your vision was becoming blurry from tears. He had denied you one too many times, and you didn’t know if you could hang on any longer. You were pleading with him at this point. 

“Cum” was all he said, as you coated his dick in your juices. Tony followed you not a second after, shooting his load up, feeling it come oozing down his member. He bit into your shoulder-blade to suppress his moans. You however lets yours come out in an almost embarrassing shriek. You had no shame though, Tony had brung you out of your shell many, many orgasms ago. 

Now a sweaty mess, he unsheathed himself, and leaned down to place a kiss on your back before readjusting your sweater and skirt. He then turned to readjust himself. 

“I know you’re gonna hate what I am about to say,” he warned, buckling his belt and bracing himself for your reaction, “but you should go on the date.”

“What, why?” You questioned, turning to face him, confused by his suggestion. Was he tired of this? Was he tired of you?

“I just don’t want this to end. So…to not raise any suspicion, you should go out, and have fun.” He stated before averting his gaze. He clearly didn’t want you to, but he knew you needed to. 

“Tony I’m not going.” You stated, fixing your hair and walking away to collect your items for school. “He didn’t even ask me, he told me. So I don’t want to do this.” You pout. 

Trailing behind you slowly, he asked this question “So if he had asked you, would you have been more willing to go.” You were kneeling down to adjust the straps on your school bag at the moment, but you stopped to survey him. His hands were buried in his pockets, and his shoulders were squared. He wasn’t the usual sure of himself cocky man you’d come to know, for a minute he seemed insecure. 

“Tony, I wouldn’t want to go period.” You confirmed, raising up to stand at his level. You unplanted his hands from his pockets, and clasped them to your own, stroking his knuckles. 

“Sweetheart,” he started. He let go of your hands to so that he could cup your cheeks. “I think you have to baby.”

“Ugh.” You loudly scoffed, letting his hands go to walk back into the kitchen and grab your breakfast. Your eggs were cold now, so you searched for an apple and a granola bar instead,  as Tony continued his case. 

“Listen, Edward knows about us. Well, not us specifically, but he knows you’re with someone. Without him, there is relatively no reason for us to continue…us. It would look bad if we still remained close with each other if your relationship with him ended.”

“Tony I’ve been living here for over a year now. I think it would be even weirder if I just cut off ties with you completely” you sneered, violently flinging the refrigerator door open in search for the string cheese. Tony mirrored your movements, and slammed the door back. 

“Sweetpea, could you just think about it.” He pleaded, while talking with his hands and peering down at you with his chocolate orbs. Butterflies started to flutter in your stomach, at the new pet name he assigned you. He always tried out different ones for different situations, and this one just happened to fit this one. “We always knew this was a difficult relationship. Even if you guys ended on good terms, dating me right after would not be the greatest idea. At least if you’re with Eddy, we have more time to figure things out. Please.” 

Contemplating his words, you knew he was right. But that didn’t change the fact that you hated it.  “Fine. I’ll go on this stupid ass date.” As you said it, the word date was laced in venom, venom that you wished to reserve for Edward’s veins. “How are you okay with all of this though? Whats your secret?”

He thought about it for a moment, and then replied, “I’m not” before pursing his lips and looking down at his feet.  Weirdly enough, you needed to hear that. Knowing that you both were going through this dread together oddly made you feel better. You grabbed his chin to lean in for a passionate kiss. Your taste from earlier still lingered on his tongue. 

“Everything is going to be fine.”  You assured, gazing up at him. 

“Ya, I know.” He smiled, before looking down at his watch. “Well not everything, because you’re late for class again.”

“Shit!” You screeched. He watched as you sprinted through the door after scrambling to grab your stuff, all before he could even blink. 

“I love you, Y/N.” He said to himself, as he waved at your fleeting car. 

——————————————————

“How does this one look?”

“No. No. No. That slit is entirely too high!”

“Tony, it’s literally below the knee. And you’re the one that chose it!”

“Too much skin. Next.”

“Yea well he has seen me naked before so.” You mumbled. 

“What was that? Yea maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. You were  right kid, take it off and we’ll come up with an excuse as to why you couldn’t go.” He was worried. He became worried after the first dress. Though he would never admit it, you knew when he was upset. He would place his glasses on his face and get to talking faster than normal. 

“Baby, like I said earlier, everything is going to be fine. Trust me.” You assured, as you went to get changed into the 7th dress of the night. 7:00 o’clock was approaching faster than normal. You had been home for a few hours now, so you and Tony mentally prepared yourself. He drew you both a hot bubble bath to calm your nerves, but it didn’t do much for them.  As the time got closer, it got harder to convince each other, that this was fine. At the moment, it was your turn to persuade Tony.

You came back into the room, in a flirty fit and flare dress. Though the dress was less than a foot away from your ankles, it hugged your curves perfectly. “Hell no. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He shouted. He had crossed and uncrossed his legs so many times at this point, you thought he’d pull a muscle. He got up to pace the room. You had never seen him worry this much. 

You met him from across the room, skipping to stand behind him. As you hugged his back, you stood on your tippy toes to press your chin on his shoulder. “Honey,” you cooed, “it might help if you told me exactly what you were afraid of.”

“I’m a grown ass man Y/N, there isn’t much that I’m afraid of.” He retorted. 

Aware of the sudden attitude, you reply “Fine, maybe afraid is the wrong word. Let’s say nervous. What’s got you so anxious?”

He placed his hands on top of yours  before sighing, “I don’t want him to steal your heart. But I also don’t want my son to be hurt. I really don’t want to lose you, but I also feel like I am being selfish towards you both.” He turned around after making his last point, entangling your fingers together. “Most of all, I don’t wanna lose you.” 

You placed your head on his chest and chuckled, the gesture sending small vibrations through him.“You said ‘I don’t wanna lose you’ like three times already.”

“Well I don’t. And you know what, who gives a fuck about me being selfish. I am that way when it comes to you. And don’t I get to be?” He asked the question more to himself than to you. 

“Yes pumpkin.”

“I know. I mean, I’ve failed him as a parent you know? If he doesn’t have the decency to appreciate someone as wonderful as you, then I have failed him. I don’t know what to do. I usually do, but I just don’t this time.” You had never seen Tony be so vulnerable before. Over the past year, he had seen you in so many compromising situations that would have made any other man run straight for the heels. But you seldom saw him in those same compromising situations. This was new, and while you always liked new, this was scary. You feared, that he saw an end to this before you could. 

“It is going to be okay.” That was all you could say. He sighed, and placed a kiss against your forehead before speaking. 

“Y/N,  I’ve been wanting to tell you,—”

“Dad! Y/N!” You heard Edward yell. You two quickly removed yourself from each other, just before he could make the room. You ran back into your bathroom to slip into another gown. When Edward came in, he was surprised to find his father in his room. “I was looking for you, but I didn’t expect to find you in here.” He began changing out of his work clothes, to freshen up. 

“Well yea, she asked me to help her pick a dress.”

“I hope you helped me out here. I am trying to get laid tonight.” He admitted, winking at his dad. Tony just stared at him blankly. Taking his expression as disapproval for his choice of word, he awkwardly laughed, “Oh come on dad, don’t get stiff on me now, you know you taught me everything I know.” He began changing into his date attire, before realizing something was missing. He went to look in your shared bathroom. 

Attempting to walk in, the door was immediately slammed back into his face. He was embarrassed that it happened in front of Tony, who was currently chuckling on your bedroom couch. Regaining his cool, he knocked on the door. “Babe, I need to get in for a sec.”

“I’m in here.” You replied, with short words and short tones. 

“Yea babe, I know you’re in there, the thing is I need to be in there too.” He was annoyed, but you were already pissed about going out with him. Especially since he interrupted his dad from earlier. What was he gonna say? You thought. 

“Well you’re gonna have to fucking wait Edward.”

“Listen, if this is about your dress, I’m gonna be happy with whatever you put on for me okay?” He assured. 

“No, Edward. This is about me not wanting you to see me naked.” You corrected. “Now you could either wait, or forget about the entire date.”

“Well, I guess that means you’re not getting laid tonight.” Tony teased, fighting the shit-eating grin, that threatened to plaster his face. It got harder when Edward looked at him with the biggest death-glare .

Why does the bastard seem happy about that? he thought to himself. “Whatever. There’s always next time.” He stated matter-of-factly, not noticing the joy that left his father’s eyes. “Do you have any cologne that I can borrow?” He was still annoyed but it was fleeting. You two were not going to ruin his night. He would have you by the end of it. 

“Uh, yea I left it in the downstairs bathroom, follow me.” Edward found it hard to read Tony at the moment. As mentioned before, the older man rarely lost his composure. Those closest to him, knew his ticks, but by no means were Tony and Edward close. Father and son, maybe, but they would never be friends. Edward always took to his mother, listening to the poison she spewed in his ears from the time he was old enough to understand. To him, Tony was a terrifying, self-entitled, know-it-all, who never granted mercy tho anyone, even those he loved.  

Up until recently, he saw that that wasn’t true, or if it had been it was in the past now. As he followed him down the staircase, they reached the bathroom where the cologne resided. Tony, trying to play nice, handed Edward a tiny glass bottle. The bottle itself probably cost over a thousand dollars, what did that say about the tawny brown liquid inside. “Thanks man.” Was all he said, as he carelessly took it. 

“Hey, you be careful with that! It cost more than your entire outfit.” 

He spritzed the liquid onto his collar and wrists before speaking “This smells really good. What is this again? I feel like I’ve smelled this before.”

“Forget about the damn cologne Edward. We need to talk about Y/N.” His demeanor turned serious, as he addressed you. 

“What is there to talk about?” He questioned, tousling with his hair in the mirror.

“She’s fragile right now, and I just don’t think you should force yourself onto her.”

“Woah, woah, woah. I’m not a rapist.”

“That’t not what I’m saying at all. The very fact that that’s the first thing your mind jumped to is alarming to say the least. Whatever, anyway, I’m saying that you can be a little aggressive with your approach. She doesn’t appreciate your selfish nature.”

“Selfish? Did she tell you that?” He stopped with his hair and eyed him through the mirror. 

“All that I am saying is that you may win more points with her, if you ask her about what she wants.” Tony didn't even know why he bothered trying to help him. In all honesty, he was just trying to to help you.

“Dad, you just let her call me selfish? I am your son, shouldn’t you care more about what I think?”

“You literally just proved her point. And shouldn’t you want to be more attentive to your girlfriend’s needs?”

“Why are you two so close? Don’t you think that’s a little weird?” He inspected his father skeptically. He turned around to slowly look him up and down before continuing “Whose side are you on?”

Tony stood firm. He made sure to show no sign of weakness. “I’m on her’s.” His eyes burned a hole through Edward, and the younger boy bit back his anger to cower his head away from his father’s menacing look.

“Let’s go, before I change my mind.” They both perked their heads up to look at you standing through the bathroom’s doorway. 

You were wearing a silk mauve spaghetti-string top, paired with pearl colored high-waisted wide-leg dress pants; those were held together by a simple Gucci belt. A chic baggy blazer that matched the pants graced your arms, and three-tier pearl earrings dangled from your lobes. Your perfectly manicured cream colored nails clutched a large white wristlet against your person. You sported a curly shoulder-length bob, and your makeup was done to look natural. On your feet were a pair of costly looking suede heels whose color resembled your top; their points were so sharp they could puncture skin. You looked more ready for a business meeting, than a date. 

“Wow babe” Edward started, eyeing you in detail. “You look great, but I thought you were gonna wear something a bit more comfortable.”

“Well Edward, you said you would be happy with whatever I chose.”

“I mean I am but—”

“You look amazing.” Tony interjected, eyeing you a little too long for Edward’s liking. 

“I mean don’t act so surprised, I am a boss ass bitch” You respond feeling shy all of a sudden. You broke eye contact to bite your bottom lip and examine your feet. How could your stomach still swarm and your face still heat up after all this time. 

He cleared his throat before saying, “Right well, you guys have a date to attend. I hope you have fun” He turned to Edward to adjust his collar, “But not too much fun.” He left it at that for a moment before adding, “Because ya know, I’m too pretty to be a granddad right now.” He patted his chest and turned him so that he could push him out of the door.

He stopped you before you could follow, to say in a hushed tone,  “You look beautiful. Hurry back please.”

“I’ll try. Don’t worry.” You gave him a small smile, before turning to leave. 

He grabbed your hand to whip you around and slam the door. He pressed you against it, hands on either side of your head. 

“Tony what the fuc—”

“Say the word and we can call it off.”

“Honey, at this point it’s too late. He’d know something is up if we did that.”

“Do you think I give a flying fuck what he thinks. Come on just say the word.”

“Tony, I am going. We won’t be long. So don’t worry.” You grabbed his cheeks to peck his lips. 

He released his hands from their spot on the door and reopened it to a confused Edward. “Sorry.” He directed towards him. “It looked like she had a gaping hole in her pant leg. Couldn’t let it ruin your date.” He was always a terrible liar, and as he said it, he watched your retreating movements to the vehicle. 

“Thanks for looking out,” Edward said sarcastically before following your steps. He tried to open it for you, but you ensured that you could open the door yourself in a cold manner.

When you got into the car, you prepped yourself for the long night before you. If you had looked back at Tony’s expression, you may have never left with Eddy. 

———————————————————————

Shit. You thought, as you pulled up to the restaurant. Of course it had to be one that you and Tony frequented a lot. Every time they saw him, they called you both by name. You should have known something was up when the drive took an hour outside the city. 

“Eddy, why don’t we go somewhere else.” You say as you slide down in your seat. “This place looks expensive.”

“I want to try this. I’ll take care of the bill.” He was being short with you now. It was due to the lack of communication during the entire drive. No matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t get more than two words out of you. You almost felt bad, but that diminished when you saw him shamelessly checking out a girl who was passing by your car. You didn’t even care about it, you were just annoyed that he did it in your presence even though it was his idea to take you out. 

“Fine.” You retort, unbuckling your seatbelt to beat him inside. You felt that if you got in before him, you could warn the staff not to mention Tony, or your being there before. Too bad Edward’s legs were way longer than yours. 

“Slow down, I’m the one who made the reservations.” He ran up to walk beside you. He sensed you sense him checking the other woman out, and took your sudden mood shift as jealousy. “Don’t worry baby, she wasn’t even that pretty.” He snaked an arm around your waist, which made you recoil away. He opened the glass doors for you, and you were immediately embraced with the familiar smell of French cuisine. The ambiance was soft and warm, and the lights were dim as golds and yellows lay in the scenery. Being here without Tony wasn’t the best, but at least you felt somewhat at home.  

As the two of you approached the maître d’s desk, the jolly man lit up at the sight of you. Samuel was the sweetest, and sassiest person you had ever come to know. The fact that he could be both was why you loved him.

“Aww ma cherré! C'est si gentil à vous de nous rejoindre ce soir!” Samuel exclaimed. He was elated to see you since it had been a while. 

“Tu m'as manqué Samuel!” You were happy to see him as well and expressed how much you missed him. 

“You two know each other?” Edward inserted, causing Samuel to focus his attention on him. 

“Well no. I just read his name tag.” You said nervously.

“Qui est-ce?” Samuel asked, trying to figure out who Edward was. He was currently sizing him up. This wasn’t his precious Tony.

“What did he say? I knew I should have gone somewhere, where they speak English” Edward complained. 

Samuel mumbled something about Edward being an entitled prick, which made it hard for you to suppress a smile. “He asked what was the reservation name under.”

“Ahh, it’s under Stark! I am the one who called ahead 3 hours ago!” Edward shouted, like the asshat he was.

“Monsieur, I understand English. I’m from New York.” Samuel stated with an attitude. “However speaking French helps set the tone for this environment. Also, if you yell at a person who you presume to speak a different language, it makes you look like an obnoxious prick.” You couldn’t suppress your smile this time. 

“Is it customary to speak like that to your guests too?” Edward challenged, making both you and Samuel’s smile falter. 

“Non monsieur.” He replied, the confidence from before had left now. 

“Yea I didn’t think so. I would like you and your staff to speak English to me for the rest of the night.” He informed, a menacing smirk playing on his face. “I should see that you take care of those who give you service.” 

“Yes sir. Allow me to lead you to your table.”  You tugged on the cuffs of his jacket to look at him with sorry eyes. “ Ahh Mrs. Y/L/N, will you be taking your usual spot on the roof—”

You looked at him with wide eyes before you said “Monsieur!” You shouted. You guys had stopped, “Could you show me to the restroom! I am sorry I cannot hold my bladder any longer.”

“But you already know—” Samuel you idiot! You thought to yourself. 

“Restroom please!”

“Okay okay, just a minute!” Your outbursts were out of character, so he was just now realizing something was wrong. “You can sit here sir. Right this way ma’am.”

When you two got  out of earshot, that’s when you tackled him with a hug. “I am so sorry he treated you like that.”

“It’s not your fault, my dear. But who is that son-of-a-bitch.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed before saying, “That’s Tony’s son. We are dating.”

“Wait! No what happened with you and Tony!”

“Nothing, we are fine…we just met at the wrong time.” 

“Ahh, does he know that you are dating his son?” You basically just told Samuel that you were dating two people who were blood-related, and he didn’t bat an eye-lash. 

“Of course he knows! Edward doesn’t though, so if it isn’t too much to ask, please tell everyone to act as if they never met me. I would really appreciate it.”

“Anything for my favorite girl! You stupid bitch, I can't believe you didn't tell me all this juicy gossip.” He winked at you before leading you back to your table. 

You sat down in the booth and let your blazer fall from your arms. All of a sudden you felt nervous, but determined to play nice. Edward’s irritation took on a new level, and you forgot that you were supposed to be “rekindling” your relationship. All you had done this entire evening was make it worse. You almost forgot how to talk to him, being alone only made things worse. He was sitting opposite to you, examining his menu. And when he spoke it was cold. 

“I took the liberty to order us some drinks while you were off talking with that server.” So he knew you had lied about the bathroom, yet his eyes hadn’t left his menu. Maybe he was trying to decipher the French, and wasn't really worried about you.

“I don’t drink anymore.” You declared.

“So much has changed about you. Like you speak French now, when did that happen.” His voice was like liquid turned into stone. Hard but smooth at the same time. 

“I took an online class.” You lied. Tony was the one to teach you. “I have an internship in Paris that requires me to learn it.” That part was true though

“Does that internship pay you ahead of time?” He glanced up from his menu to meet your gaze.

“It doesn’t pay me at all.” Your brows furrowed. Where was he going with this? 

“Oh. You know I just thought it did, since you can afford Gucci, and what is that?” He asked referring to your wristlet “That’s a Valentino right? Oh and let’s not forget the Louboutin’s on your feet!” He was losing his cool now. 

“Eddy you’re gonna cause a scene. Lower your voice.” You hiss. 

Fortunately your waitress came over to distract him for a second. “Bonjour, je m'appelle Elise. Je serais heureux de te servir ce soir.” You knew Elise, but you had to act as if you didn’t. You hoped that when she looked away from her notepad, she wouldn’t recognize you.

“English please. I already told your host this.” He was already an ass, but now he was being plain rude. 

The peppy red-head looked up from her notes to examine him. Her doe-like eyes wide in terror that quickly turned into joy upon noticing you. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you!” She looked around for a second before looking back to you, “Where is Mr Stark?” You held your breath at the mention of Tony. I guess Samual hadn’t warned Elise yet. 

“I am Mr. Stark.” Edward rudely inserted. You were relieved he didn’t realize the error, until he spoke again “Look. We’re not ready to order yet. So why don’t you come back later. Fuck off” He waved his hand in a dismissive behavior, before turning back to you.

You watched the girl bow her head before quickly retreating.“Why do you have to be such a fucking dick?” 

“What? Do you think I hurt your little friend’s feelings? Why did you act like you’ve never been here before.” His nostrils began to flare, as he sat up from his seat.

“I haven’t—.”

“Don’t fucking bullshit me Y/N. I heard him ask you about your usual spot on the roof. You must think I am an idiot.” He snarled. “I asked about it before reserving the restaurant. My point is that I know it costs more than your tiny bank account could hold. So what, did you plan on freeloading off of me and my dad, while your sugar daddy takes care of you too?”  

“Don’t speak to me like this.” You state through gritted teeth. Your eyes were starting to water from his interrogation, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

“Who pays for it? Hmm? Is it the same person who put those hickeys on your chest? Or is it the person who bought you that cheap ass bracelet.” Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist to snatch off the Cartier bracelet Tony got you for valentine’s day. It meant the world to you, since he had the words ‘My heart belongs to you, T.S.’ engraved inside it.  You watched the jewels bounce and clatter on to the hard-wood floor. Rolling under feet and nearby tables. People were starting to look over, but you didn’t care. You also didn’t care about the tears that spilled from your eyes. 

Edward sat back in his chair, and rubbed a hand through his hair while acknowledging your tears. He coldly mocked these next words “What’s wrong. Can’t he afford to buy you a new one?” 

“Yea.” You said, voice shaking, while your eyes remained on the floor. You turned back to him to say, “Maybe if I fuck him good enough, he’ll get me an even prettier one.” His hands began to shake as you watched him go red in the face. He balled his palms into fists, knuckles turning white; a sharp contrast to his crimson fingers. He unexpectedly slammed them on the table, causing you to jump, and the conversations around you to cease. 

“Well maybe he should give you a ride back home while he’s at it, you fucking bitch!” He shouted, spit flying from his mouth. He got up to storm out of the door, pushing passed Elise who was coming back with your drinks. He left you embarrassed, without a way home, and alone. Oddly enough, you weren’t crying because of Edward. You were crying because you felt like you failed Tony.

————————————————————

You arrived home over four hours later, after hailing a taxi. You would have been home sooner, if you didn’t spend the night with Elise, Samuel, and the rest of the staff, insisting on helping them close. You partly helped to make up for the scene you and Edward had caused, and you also wanted to give Edward enough time to get home and go to bed. From the looks of it, he had made it there in just a little under an hour, because that’s when Tony started lighting your phone up. That’s why you stayed longer to wait for him to fall asleep as well. You were an even bigger idiot than Edward if you thought he would be asleep before you made it home. 

He was sitting on the staircase when you unlocked the door to come in. “Are you okay?” He asked, leaping up to stand before you. 

“Yea I’m good.” You respond, tiredly. 

“Good. Because I am fucking livid.” He said in a frantic tone. “What’s wrong with your phone?”

“Nothing. Where’s Edward?”

“He’s asleep. So why didn’t you answer you phone?”

“It died.” 

“Was that before, or after you turned it off? Because I know for a fact that’s what you did. That’s always your excuse when you don’t want to talk to someone.”

“Can we not do this tonight.” He grabbed your shoulders and bent down so that he could look you in your eyes. 

“I would prefer it if we did this now.”

“Well it’s not about what you fucking want all the time,” You snapped.

“Hey. That’s not fair.” Hurt was plastered on every inch of his face. You saw it, so you began to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracked, and you were about to cry again. “Tony I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live in this house with him anymore. I can’t live this lie any. more.” The tears spilled, and you couldn’t tell who was more hurt at this point, you or Tony. 

He pulled you into his chest, which muffled your sobs. “What am I supposed to say, when you get like this? I can’t bear seeing you cry, princess. What do I do?”

“Please just hold me. Don’t let me go.” You mewled. 

He pulled back to wipe away your tears with the backs of his thumb. “Now when have you ever known me to do something stupid.”

“Everyday.” You laugh. He tapped your nose and gave it a quick kiss, while still cupping your cheeks.

“Yeah, well besides then.” 

“Never.” You whispered. He stared into your eyes lovingly. You two stayed mesmerized in each other for longer than usual. 

“I love you, Y/N. I guess that goes without saying, but I thought you should know.” He confessed. Believe it or not, it was the first time. The two of you never had to say it, because you just felt it. Just knowing it, still wouldn’t beat hearing the actual words though. He had just made it fact in your heart. 

Speaking of your heart, it was beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings, threatening to leap from your chest at any second. The butterflies he gifted you quickly turned into elephants, that threatened to trample your insides, and replace the remains with Peruvian lilies.  Your cheeks were now hot to the touch, and your mouth searched for words that came out in random incoherent spouts.

Tony, suddenly overcome with unsureness started with, “Maybe this wasn’t the right time to—”

“No!” You shouted, “I love you too.” You cried, smiling before you stood on your toes to wrap your arms around him. His arms dropped to your sides, and he pulled you in by your shirt, latching his mouth on yours. This kiss was different from the rest. They all felt good, but this one felt better than them all combined. Taking in all of you, your scent, your taste, your feel, he felt spoiled. He grabbed at the sides of your face to deepen it, while you grabbed at the back of his neck. You both tried your hardest to get closer, but it may have not even been possible, since there was no space left between you. 

You were the first to pull back for air, while Tony still pecked at your lips, stealing wet kisses, that trailed from your mouth to your forehead. He peppered them over your eyelids, nose, and cheeks, desperate to cover every perimeter of the skin. 

You fluttered your eyes open when he was done, smiling up at him though your lashes. His chocolate brown orbs danced with more joy, than you had ever seen, and his pearly whites peered through his goofy grin. He eskimo kissed you, and rest his forehead against yours. You were happier than you had ever been. 

You both snapped your necks towards the sound behind you before you heard Edward say “I should have known it was you.” He, like his dad before, sat at the bottom of the staircase watching the both of you. You two were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear him walk down.

And just like that, your happiness left the chat. 

  A/N: Sooo... tell me what you think? Also, I proofread, but please let me know if you see any errors. Please like comment and share. To  @swaggysposts​ @scarletsoldierrr​ I am so sorry for posting so late, but I really hope you are still interested. Please tell me what you think!  PART 3 here 

[zosonils]

surely post some autistic ferb things for us all,,,,,,

hell yeah anon!! here’s an absolute hell dump of Ferb Autism Indulgence Things because i have really been wanting to get my grubby little autistic hands all over him lately

his special interests are engineering and tetris [which is the game he’s internationally ranked in!]

he stims vocally by humming or repeating other vocalisations, but rarely with actual words

if he’s too nervous to vocalise/just not in the mood he goes for small hand movements to stim like clicking pens or tapping his fingers

he does flappy hands/arms when he has a lot of excitement to release! otherwise he prefers to stick to smaller/more subtle motions for a variety of reasons

he only repeats actual words as echolalia, almost always off of either phineas or perry! that thing they do where perry chatters and the boys mimic it and they all just loop off each other for a while is absolutely an echolalia loop for all of them [yes even the platypus]

a very epic headcanon i have is that owca agents are typically labelled as having therapy animal training to give them some more wiggle room with showing intelligence, so perry is officially a therapy platypus for the flynn-fletcher kids, especially the boys. ferb does the aforementioned echolalia chatter thing with perry and also just generally finds him extremely comforting to hold. of course perry’s figured out all of ferb and his siblings’ needs by observation and makes sure to subtly be as comforting as possible for his kids, especially if they’re having a meltdown and need to hold someone who won’t try to talk to them

ferb genuinely dislikes communicating verbally, due to a combination of general social anxiety, struggling to translate his thoughts into words, and finding it physically uncomfortable to talk. it’s not serious enough to prevent him from cracking a joke or vocalising his thoughts every once in a while, but he prefers to be nonverbal as much as possible and communicate through gestures and body language

throughout the series he only ever speaks on his own terms and as much as he’s comfortable with, so it comes out without issue, but if he’s forced to talk when he doesn’t want to or while he’s under stress he struggles to string sentences together and stutters really badly. fortunately he’s got nice friends and a great family so this issue rarely presents itself, although it comes up sometimes during the school year in battles with pissy neurotypical teachers over oral presentations

over time he starts to work past the discomfort [genuinely, it’s on his own terms as opposed to masking to get allistics off his back] so that by the time he’s an adult he can hold an entirely verbal conversation for a decent while before it drains him, but he still tends to avoid speaking if he can

phineas instinctively understands ferb’s silent emotional cues, a lot better than he understands most people’s [but that’s a whole other infodump lmao], and unless ferb actively indicates that he wants to talk for himself phineas usually speaks for both of them and translates any of ferb’s less neurotypically obvious signals

phineas and ferb made The Ultimate Fidget Cube as one of their daily projects [they were being mass produced for an hour or two and then something or other happened, there was a mobile phone and an avalanche of instant noodles, long story short only the handful they made for themselves and their friends are left now] and neither of them go anywhere without it

ferb doesn’t have any specific comfort/security objects but he feels significantly more at ease if he’s got some kind of tool in his hand or within reach [or, failing an actual building-stuff tool, anything he can hold and Do Something with, like a pen or his fidget cube or a video game controller], and is a lot more stimmy with his hands and generally anxious if he isn’t holding something

perry performs the task of comfort item better than any inanimate objects but platypi aren’t allowed to come to school even if they’re very polite :(

believe me the brothers have tested this numerous times

school is stressful for ferb because it fires up his sensory overload and is usually where he’s forced to do some neurotypical shit that upsets him, but his friends always have his back and linda and lawrence are definitely super involved in making sure their kids’ needs are met and respected by their teachers, so he manages pretty well unless something really bad happens to set him off

he’s susceptible to sensory overload, mostly with bright lights, sudden noises, and being touched. the light and sound involved in many of his and phineas’ projects is alright because he usually designed them and knows exactly when they’ll come on and what it’ll be like, but if he doesn’t have that prediction available he freaks out easily. being touched [especially without warning] is the absolute fucking worst and he almost invariably flips out if someone unfamiliar tries to touch him or he’s hit with an unexpected sensation he doesn’t like

he only rarely has meltdowns because he’s good at self-regulating when he needs to and his friends and family know what does and doesn’t fly with him, but when he does they’re often triggered by either sensory overload or being forced to talk

when ferb starts entering meltdown territory his verbal skills are the first thing to shut off, and if it gets worse he usually stops communicating altogether and enters a really bad dissociative state that he won’t come out of until he feels safe again and can be carefully brought back to his senses

standard procedure for ferb meltdowns is to get him a weighted blanket and some tea and a perry if you can find the slippery little bugger, let him snap back to reality at his own pace, and once he can communicate his needs again pay extra close attention to them until he calms down enough that he can properly self-regulate again

his favourite sensations are weight/pressure, the funky bumpy shit perry’s tail has going on, and anything soft!

most of his clothes [including his usual outfit in the show] are tight-fitting but made out of soft fabric for maximum comfy

the blanket on his bed is a weighted one, but if he’s too far from his room or it’s too hot to be comfortable under a blanket sometimes he’ll just find the tightest spot he can wedge himself into without getting hurt or stuck and squish himself in there to calm down a bit

his favourite food texture is crunchy stuff, and he samefoods with particular cereals and sandwich combos that rotate every few months when he finally gets tired of the exact same breakfast and lunch every day and wants slightly different identical meals

while he’s fine with variation from day to day, he’s very firmly attached to the summer/weekend formula of wake up > cereal > big idea > where’s perry > [building montage] > mom holy fuck > sandwich > [having fun montage] > our fuckoff massive contraption has vanished somehow > oh there you are perry > snacks > nondescript vibing > dinner > bed time, and if this schedule gets significantly thrown off it really bothers him

ferb shows his emotions more subtly than neurotypicals, which can make him seem hard to read, but his external emotional range is still extremely distinct - he just expresses it in atypical ways sometimes!

one of his most notable atypical emotional cues is that thing he does when he’s startled and he pulls his hands up - he does this in we call it maze when candace falls over on her skates in the beginning, split personality when busting candace scares him, lost in danville when he’s worried another capsule might fall on him or phineas, and the phineas and ferb effect during how do i do it when milo’s exercise bike crashes, just to name a few instances! this boy has Unique Emotional Cues and i love him for it so much

he’s better at reading emotions than phineas [as low as that bar is], but sometimes misses more subtle cues and doesn’t quite trust his ability to read anyone aside from phineas, candace, and his closest friends

he’s been aware that he’s neurodivergent ever since he was diagnosed as a little kid [he was first diagnosed with autism when he was extremely baby, not even three years old, and had it continually reconfirmed as he got older] and he’s been entirely happy with being autistic for as long as he’s known what that even means, with this only being reinforced as he found siblings and made friends with other autistic kids :)

good lord this is such an infodump i’m sorry i just love my son so very much and have been feeling particularly self indulgent today ;<;

[mrsgaryrennell]

hiii! 6, 8, 15, 18, 23, 25, 26, and 28 for both chloe and dicky! (sorry if these are too many lol) 💕

Oohh hii sis 💛💛💛miss you a bunch but thanks for asking 👀which btw don’t worry about putting to many lmao 🤡 

Just beware of my lengthy essay 💀 alright so Dicky and Chloe

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Dicky: This man was a problem as a child lol And no nothing tragic about his backstory, he’s just a chaotic mess 😂He was never a bully or anything, it’s just that he was really intimidating and really mean if ever approached lol but if he liked you enough, he’ll definitely be a chill guy to hang around with haha he’s not antisocial either. He hated school lol Dicky just never paid much attention and there were even times when he would skip class because he simply wasn’t interested 💀So you could say that he didn’t like the majority of the school material. Nonetheless, he did finish secondary school lol

Now, there were a few subjects he did enjoy or in his language were “alright” lol He didn’t mind staying for math class since it’s something he picked up pretty easily on lol I can see the teacher all 😯the first time because they didn’t expect Dicky to be so amazing at it and he’s very nonchalant about it, too lol I feel like math is something he’s naturally really skilled with but he doesn’t really see that in him haha And another school activity he enjoyed was a debate class lol he didn’t like learning laws and all but he really liked sitting across from someone and winning the debate every time 😂 mechanic boi has great argumentative skills 😌 

Chloe: She was a very bright child in school. People were always impressed because of her talent and wit. And kids loved partnering up with her for school projects because she was great at leading the team to create great outcomes. Although, I can’t say that she was too popular in school nor did she make too many friends because they just thought she was a little weird for their taste lol Chloe tells herself that she didn’t mind being alone since she likes her alone time but she’s always been self conscious of being the oddball of the group 😭

While in primary and secondary school, she didn’t mind any of the classes like science, math, literature, etc. She did find charm in each subject but her most favorite subject in school was and still is history lol She’s fascinated by historical figures that committed stupid decisions 😂and she actually enjoys to sit down and watch history documentaries of anything really. Other than history, cello girl also found her love for music and performing arts 💛Music has always been kind of like her escape to peace 

Lastly, she did go to uni and attended Juilliard School in New York for her musical career 🎶 Chloe has always enjoyed music and arts ever since she was a child so expanding her knowledge in this and making it into her professional career has become a huge highlight to her life 😌Of course, she came as one of the top of her class for her creativity, talent, and uniqueness!

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

Dicky: So he didn’t have any pets while growing up nor does he have any right now. Jason doesn’t mind animals but they seem to not like him lmao So he rather stay away from nature 😂 

Chloe: She didn’t have any pets when growing up either! She honestly had a lot going on during her childhood and asking for a pet was probably the least thing in her mind. And this could be a little be spoilery lol but it’s okay! Chloe does currently have a beautiful little boy named Frédéric, or Fred for short lol but named him after one of her favorite composers Frédéric Chopin!

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

Dicky: We all know how much this grumpy man loves his food lol so he does know how to cook! I want to think that he does enjoy cooking since he knows he’s about to devour all of that within seconds lmao so he likes the anticipation. At this point in the story, I’m not sure anyone has tried Dicky’s cooking actually 🤔I guess we’ll see what others think of Dicky’s food later in the chapters 👀

Chloe: She is great at cooking, she loves it! She views it like a form of art so there’s a lot to appreciate for the uniformed ingredients for her 😌In fact, Chloe loves to cook in her spare time and learn more about it from other cultures. Cello girl also has a fascination for food so all the love and care she puts into the meal, it really comes from the heart 💛 So far, the people that she’s fed in the Villa has been the Chatham boys, Gary and Dicky, and they definitely approve of it haha 

18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else?

Dicky: I don’t think he really reads lol but he loves going over magazines with old fashioned and retro vehicles. He likes to learn about the evolution of cars, that nerd 😂With music, I think he has a liking for alternative rock, mellow rock, maybe a little of metal lol Although, Dicky did listen to some cringey emo music when a teenager but he doesn’t like to talk about that lmao He’s not into any TV shows but likes to watch Fast & Furious movies to trash on it but lowkey likes admiring the sports cars lmao And lastly on video games, he like horror types 💀He has a collection of horror video games and likes to sit down in the dark and play them lol

Chloe: Well, Chloe likes her history lol so she will gladly sit down to read about WWII or something like that 😂 And aw man lol music! This girl appreciates all types of music, but good music. Even though she’s really elegant and a classical musician (which still adores the classics ofc), she really appreciates the modern music like pop, hip hop, indie music, rock, you name it! So Chloe listens to anything and everything and her I’m sure her spotify is random af haha She’s not really into TV shows either but as far as films, she’s a huge nerd: Star Wars! She first fell in love with John Williams’ movie scores and came across the Star Wars one and was infatuated 😌She found out about the trilogy when she was a little older and loves to marathon the movies 💛And no video games lol she’s not really into that haha 

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

Dicky: This guy will only have a good memory if he cares lol So if he has any interest in anyone, he will remember names and faces but if he doesn’t care, then you’re out of luck 💀 you’ll be pretty forgettable to Jason lmao Overall, I think he does have a great memory if it’s regarding his job ofc and with the people he cares about and that’s about it haha 

Chloe: She has a great memory! Because of her career and learning all those musical sheets by heart, Chloe gained a photographic memory 😌It will only take a couple of chats with someone for her thoroughly remember your name and face. 

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

Dicky: He has dark humor okay 💀he enjoys to mess with people for his own amusement. And he because dark humor is part of his personality, Jason doesn’t realize that he will say something dark and it’ll seem like a joke so people find it funny lol Overall, he is a funny guy but his humor isn’t for everyone 😂

Chloe: Cello girl is a sucker for bad puns lol And when anyone delivers a bad pun and no one laughs, that’s what she finds funniest lmao Her humor is the dry type, very “The Office” type lol I don’t think she’s aware of the US show but when she finds out, it will become one of her favorites lmao Chloe is also unintentionally funny, too. She’ll say or do something weird or random and it’s very humorous for others 

26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions?

Dicky: Oooh Dicky, Dicky, Dicky lol this man always has a poker face hah But, you can still determine what his gestures are when he’s happy 😌Dicky may not be a very expressive man but he has a lot of micro expressions and mannerism. It’s really hard to spot it but if you’re an observant person, you’ll be able to determine when mechanic boi is in a good mood! Dicky’s eyes are a major give away lol his eyes will have a little bit of a shine and the outer corner of his eyes will squint a bit. Because he doesn’t wanna show too much of his smile, if he catches himself cracking a smile, he’ll run his hand down his face lmao that dork 💛

Chloe: The humming! She will instinctively start humming a song whenever she’s in a good mood. Like Dicky, Chloe has expressive eyes. She may not say she’s in a happy mood but just looking into her eyes, you’ll be able to tell that there’s something different to the shade and brightness. She doesn’t necessarily hide her emotions when she’s happy since she already has a calm and composed nature but her tone of voice is more friendlier than usual if she’s in a great mood, too. Another way to determine if she’s in a good mood is hearing her giggle a little more often than usual lol but more sore just little short giggles! 

28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared?

Dicky: lmaoo Jason would act like he’s a tough guy and say nothing scares him 😂 But he does have his moments where his voice will mildly crack after gasping if there’s ever a jumpscare lol 

Getting a little real and serious about fright tho lol Dicky is afraid of failing able to protect the people he loves. That’s why Dicky is so protective of Gary since he knows Gary has body issues so he tries his best to be as supportive as he can for his friend. Another thing Dicky is scared of is losing a near and dear friendship. Again, he’s not one to make a lot of close friends, so if he ever screwed up and notices that they’re getting distant, this is something Dicky gets anxious about. 

Chloe: She isn’t that type of girl that gets all scared of anything or everything lol she actually finds those type of girls a little annoying 💀She does have a fear for the ocean lol Chloe loves going to the beach, soaking in the sun and even taking a little bit of a swim but the thought of sailing scares her lol A way someone could tell that she’s scared is if her hands unevenly tremble and this is also a mannerism she has if she’s worried about something, too.

Now, a more serious fear she also has is trusting the wrong person. Chloe is a loyal person and can be devoted to them but if she’s always afraid of investing all of her energy into someone that doesn’t reciprocate the same devotion. This is why it’s really hard for her to let anyone in so easily and though she’s still a super friendly and polite girl, it’ll take a lot for someone to make her open up about her life, dreams, aspirations, etc. 

Damn that was long and I apologize girl 🤡 but I hope you enjoyed it 💛 appreciate you asking about these dorks haha and if anyone is still interested in asking, here’s the link to the questions. I got another one to answer and I hope I get to it either tonight or tomorrow!

[princelestatdelioncourt]

Character Name

The Innamorati (Lovers Class)

(The characters of Isabella, Lelio, Flavio and Vittoria are all part      of the Innamorati.  However since there are so many more      Commedia dell'arte characters that are part of this same class that are      not fully developed by Commedia dell'Carte, we gave them their own "catch      all" page to include research on this vital class of commedia characters      that may not be specific to the four characters listed above.  If you      are seeking general information on the Innamorati, but sure to      consult the web pages of the afore mentioned characters as well.)      

In Italian, the Lovers (of whom four-two would-be pairs - are      usually needed for a full scenario) are called innamorati.        The males have names such as Silvio, Fabrizio, Aurelio, Orazio, Ottavio,      Ortensio, Lelio, Leandro, Cinzio, Florindo, Lindoro, etc.;  the      females:  Isabella, Angelica, Eularia, Flaminia, Vittoria, Silvia, Lavinia, Ortensia, Aurelia, etc.  - Rudlin      

Whether their names are Flavio, Ottavio, Orazio, Silvio, Leandro or      Cinthio del Sole; Federigo, Lelio, Mario, or Fulvio - all reveal a fatal      trace of fatuity. - Duchartre

Status    

High, but brought low by the hopelessness of their infatuation.      -Rudlin

Costume

The latest fashion.  Males sometimes dressed as young soldiers      or cadets.  Wigs.  Actresses would show off their wardrobe in      the better companies by changing costume several times during the course      of the action. -Rudlin

They had no particular costume, but dressed in the latest fashion of      the period to which they belonged. - Duchartre      

Wore stunning silk dresses, often in antique Renaissance style with      necklaces of gold and pearls. - Gordon      

Gentry-class dress, nice looking, modest, cute.  Usually with a      heart motif  -Little

Origin (History) 

The aristocracy of the Italian Renaissance courts amused themselves      with a form they called commedia erudita based on the plays of      Terence and Plautus, for example Calandria by Cardinal Bibbiena      which, like Shakespeare's later Comedy of Errors, is based on      Plautus' Menaechmi.  As the professional improvised comedy      looked to extend its range it seemed to have borrowed the Lovers from the      amateur form.  - Rudlin

The most prominent Isabella, Isabella Andreini, belonged to the      troupe of Gelosi. - Laver

Physical Appearance

Had to be young, well set up, courteous, gallant even to the point      of affectation - in short, a blade and a dandy.  - Duchartre

Young and attractive – Rudlin      

The lovers and wooers of the Commedia dell'arte were always dapper      and engaging and just a trifle ridiculous. - Duchartre

Mask

No actual mask, but heavy make-up.  Mascara and beauty spots      for both sexes.  The make-up in fact becomes a mask enabling      performers to play the role well into middle age, or even beyond - Giovan      Battista Andreini, son of Francesco, played Lelio until he was 73.        Vizard or loup could be worn for disguise, usually made of black      velvet.  This was a normal accoutrement for society ladies when      walking to a rendezvous and could be half- or full-face.  But since      it has not expression it does not count as a mask in the Commedia sense,      although it does provide plenty of plot potential, enabling, for example,      Columbina to attend rendezvous in her mistress's place.  - Rudlin      

Occasionally wore a mask that just covered eyes or a loop mask. -      Laver

Signature Props  

 Handkerchief.  Posy.  Fan for women.    -Rudlin

Stance

They lack firm contact with the earth.  Feet invariably in      ballet positions, creating an inverted cone.  Chest and heart      heavy.  They are full of breath, but then take little pants on      top.  Sometimes when situations become too much for them, they      deflate totally.  – Rudlin

Always very proud.

Walk   

They do not walk as much as tweeter, due to the instability of      their base.  First the head leans the other way to the body      sway.  Then the arms have to be used, one above the other, as a      counterweight.  -Rudlin

Poses

Various depending on individual character.

  Movements

Actors would use the same dancing masters as the well-to-do whom      they were parodying in order to point up the ridiculousness of exaggerated      deportment.  Movement comes at the point of overbalance leading to a      sideways rush towards a new focus, with the arms left trailing      behind.  Stop at the new point (usually the beloved or some token      thereof) before (almost) touching it.  The Lovers have little or no      physical contact.  When there is any, the minimum has maximum      effect.  - Rudlin

Exaggerated movements of the hands, like feathers flapping in the      wind.  -Fletcher

Gestures

Often while holding a handkerchief or flower, etc. in the leading      hand.  The arms never make identical shapes.  Because of their      vanity, they frequently look in a hand mirror, only to become upset by any      minor imperfection which is discovered.  Even in extremis they are      always looking to see if a ribbon or a sequin is out of place.  A      button found on the floor or a blemish in the coiffure equals        disaster. - Rudlin

 Speech Language 

Tuscan, making great display of courtly words and      baroque metaphors.  Well read, knowing large extracts of poems by      heart (especially Petrarch).  They speak softly in musical sentences      - in contrast with the zanni.  Their sentences are often      flamboyant, hyperbolical, full of amorous rhetoric.  By the end of      the 17th Century in Paris, the Lovers spoke French.  -  Rudlin

Animal      

Various depending on individual character.

Relationships

They relate exclusively to themselves - they are in love with      themselves being in love.  The last person they actually relate to in      the course of the action is often the beloved.  When they do meet      they have great difficulty in communicating with each other (usually      because of the nerves).  And they relate to their servants only in      terms of pleading for help.  The Lovers love each other, yet are more      preoccupied with being seen as lovers, undergoing all the hardships of      being in such a plight, than with actual fulfilment.  Consequently      they frequently scorn each other and feign mild hatred; they rebut,      despair, reconcile, but eventually end up marrying in the way of true love      when the game is up and they know they cannot play any more.  After a      quarrel the male may try a serenade to win back favour.  This will be      (dis)organized by Zanni:  he employs musicians who are drunk or      spends the money on something else and has tu use tramps off the      street.  The result is total chaos, but in the end the serenade is      beautifully played and sung because everyone miraculously turns out to be      good at their job after all.  - Rudlin

Relationship to Audience

Extremely aware of being watched. Play with the audience for      sympathy in their plight. Occasionally flirts with spectators.    -Rudlin

Frequent Plot Function

Indispensable.  Without them and their inability to resolve      their own problems, there would be no function for the zanni, no      struggle between the ineffectuality of youth and the implacability of      age.  The lovers are never alone on stage - they always have someone      with them or spying on them. - Ruldin

Their function was to depict a state of mind rather than to paint a      personality.  - Duchartre

Characteristics        

Thought their protestations would melt a heart of stone, there      always seems to be a comic side to everything they say.  One wonders      if the explanation does not lie in the fact that love often robs the lover      of all sense of his or her own absurdity, even though he or she may be the      most rational of living men or women under ordinary      circumstances.

Whatever the names of the lovers in the commedia dell'arte, they had      no other trait as 'characters' than that of being in love. - Duchartre      

Three, like primary  colors:  fidelity, jealously and      fickleness.  They are vain, petuluant, spoilt, full of doubt and have      very little patience.  They have a masochistic enjoyment of enforced      seperation because it enables them to dramatize their situation, lament,      moan, send messages, etc.  When the Lovers do meet they are almost      always tongue-tied and need interpreters (i.e. a zanni and/or a servetta)      who proceed to misinterpret their statements, either through stupidity      (Zanni), malicious desire for revenge (Brighella) or calculated      self-interest (Columbina).  Their attention span is short like young      children’s.  The fear that they might be nobodies keeps them      hyper-animated.  Their element is water:  they are very wet      creatures indeed.  The females are more passion-wrought and energetic      than their male counterparts.      

The lovers exist very much in their own world- and in their own      world within that world.  Self-obsessed and very selfish, they are      more interested in what they are saying themselves and how it sounds than      in what the beloved is saying.  They are primarily in love with      themselves, secondarily in love with love, and only consequentially in      love with the beloved.  What they learn, if anything, from the      tribulations of the scenario is the need to reverse these priorities.      

They do, however, come off better than most other Commedia      characters:  there is no viciousness in them, and less to be      reproached for – except vanity and vapidness, which, given their parents,      they can hardly be blamed for.  They represent the human portential      for happiness.  – Rudlin      

The lover had to play with dash and be able to simulate the most      exaggerated passion.  - Duchartre      

“If then true lovers have ever been crossed It stands as an edict in destiny. Then let us teach our trial patience,       Because it is a customary cross, As due to love as thoughts, and dreams, and sighs, Wishes, and tears – poor fancy’s followers.”

Shakespeare

[katsukikitten]

Hell Bound 2

Katsuki notices that with each howl of the wind you snuggle deeper into your scarf, often checking your jacket sleeve to make sure all of the buttons are secure. He knows that they are all neatly fastened as he did them himself but there was nothing he could do about the biting air seeping into your bones.

All the while you drink in the sight before you, thoughts swimming with the swirls of the ornate roof tops, staring up at the large gate to the shrine.

A harsh wind carries with it the threatening scent of snow causing your teeth to chatter, Bakugou elbows you then. Palm held upwards towards you. Hesitation grips onto your body as you look up into normally harsh scarlet eyes.

“I won’t bite, damn.” He says, nudging his open hand against your fist. You see a small blush creeping along his cheeks and take the rare opportunity to tease him.

“What if I want you to?” It comes out as a flirtatious purr, earning you a quick glance from Urarka-san who quickly turns away with flushed cheeks as she reads the language between you two.

A deadly smirk washes over his kissable lips as you take his palm, he leans in lips beside your ear as he speaks in a husky tone.

“Then I won’t disappoint.” What he wants to do is bite your ear then but instead he pulls you along towards the whole reason why you were here.

 The Ema are neatly stacked, both the clean slates and the filled ones as you approach the covered walls. Markers are piled nicely by the clean slates as you grab one, suddenly feeling the weight of all of the wishes in the open courtyard.

You stare at the small plank of wood before deciding on your wish.

Scarlet eyes watch closely as your fierce handwriting dances across the board.

‘Happiness for my friends’

His lip curls, as he is about to tell you that you’re supposed to wish good fortune for yourself he watches an idea form in your head. You grab for another board and try your best to hide what you are writing from your tethered friend.

‘A boyfriend too please I don’t need one but it would be nice’

He bites back his snort, watching you place it gently among the other planks when you turn to face him he acts disinterested, his free hand shoved deep into his pocket. He feels the chain pull as you reach for what he thinks is your third wish before he finds the wood being pressed into his chest.

“What’s this?” He snarls out of habit, somehow you do not shrink away or growl back as you normally do. He begins to wonder if all of this time bound together has gotten you so used to his gruff attitude.

“You have to make a wish too Katsu…” You clear your throat, “Bakugou.”

He stares down at you harshly, the capped marker and corner of the wood beginning to bite through his jacket, he sighs.

“You can say Katsuki ya brat.” He grabs for the wood with his left hand, “Now how am I supposed to write?”

“I’ll angle myself like this.” You turn your body closer to his blocking your left wrist and his right, “Now we look like an overly affectionate couple and people won’t look.”

You giggle at the end, he tells himself not to like the sound.

But one can only lie to themselves for so long. He stares down at the Ema not knowing what to wish for for the first time in his life.

Before he would have known what to write without question, ‘Number One Hero or else Kamisama’ but now he finds himself at loss.

Then the marker moves on its own as you furrow your brows in question.

‘I wish for her safety and happiness’

Had Bakugou have a crush that you were unaware of? Regardless you smile almost stunned that he would write a wish other than himself.

He places it then offers you his hand to which you take without any hesitation, snuggling into his warmth anytime the wind whipped through your jacket.

“Y/N! Y/N! Good news! Kirishima lied to Sensei and said his project was locked in the classroom. Sensei agreed to letting him in! Kirishima is going to grab random papers and the key tomorrow! Aren’t you excited?!” Mina throws herself onto you, flashing her boyfriend’s phone with waiting for approval.

“I think they are starting to look like a real couple though..” Denki says nudging Kirisima, earning a glare and an elbow to the ribs. Scarlet eyes gauge your reaction, your hand loosens just a hair, pulling Bakugou’s heart.

“It’s just pretend though….” You gulp, eyes holding some emotion that Katuski cannot place, “We actually don’t like each other much.”

With that Bakugou drops your hand barely letting his fingers brush against yours. Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach, push past the feeling lacing your fingers back with his own.

He glares down at you with a heated gaze, if you ever had a chance before you sure as hell ruined it now. You gulp but choke on the lump in your throat as you’re guided to the train to return home.

💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣💣

 The day yawns into night, the two of you choosing to opt out of the festivities to count down the New Year and instead retreat to your room. Bakugou is far from tired despite today’s adventure and the lack of sleep the night before. He is tense as he replays the day, memories fixating on you from both lack of choice and repetition. He sighs when your skin brushes against his but he cannot deny that it relaxes him some. He fishes for his phone, using his left hand as much as he can to avoid disturbing you, that and he is not sure if he would be able to resist your touch should you curl any closer to him.

‘We actually don’t like each other much.’ The words echo in his head causing him to suck his teeth.

He scrolls idly trying to let social media consume him only for his feed to shove couple pictures down his throat. Todoroki and Momo at the shrine, Kirishima and Mina at the shrine.

Fucking Deku and Urarka at the shrine, he goes to exit out of the gram when he spies a picture of the two of you.

Looking every much a couple as the real ones. You’re looking up at him some type of way, your look softened and seemingly only for him. Your hands intertwined as he gazes down at you.

This was when you were pressing the Ema into his chest with blatant force.

Had you looked at him like that then?

Damn you were a good liar weren’t you?

He goes to the home screen searching for anything before he reluctantly plays an old mobile game.

Reluctant only because he has been stuck on this particular level for much longer than he’d like to admit. The colors of his screen start to catch your eye, capturing your attention as the answer jumps out at you. You take your cuffed hand and swipe across the glass before it flashes three out of three stars.

“Oooii”,” He growls but begins to fly through the levels behind it, “Did ya fucking look it up?”

You giggle that damn giggle again before turning your attention to your own phone.

“No, just a fresh perspective.” You begin tapping at your screen smiling as you do. Curiosity gets the better of Bakugou as he grabs for your phone.

“OI!” It is your turn to shout as he holds the phone away from you, pressing yourself into his body as you attempt to reach your phone, “Stop!”

“Why? I just want to give you some fresh perspective on your game.” He smiles wickedly before turning the screen to face him. He blinks slowly as he digests what is on the screen. An animated man dressed to the nines, a slight flush to his cheeks. Obviously trying to avoid whatever affection MC is giving him.

“Is this one of those fucking OTME games?” He snorts, “You get the recommendation from Denki?”

This time he laughs and embarrassment melds hot with rage in your cheeks. Scarlet eyes rove over the three options as your fist finds his solar plexus.

“OOOF”

You snatch your phone before settling down, he turns onto his side to watch you play. You glare at him as he gestures for you to go on before you stare at your screen. Unsure what option to pick, five minutes tick by.

“Oi, what are you waiting for?” He hisses interest fading fast, you bare your teeth at him before admitting.

“Look, this is the character I’m after…” Before you can finish he picks the middle option, you’re furious, there is no replaying this scene without starting over. If this leads you to a bad ending you’ll just have to kill Bakugou Katsuki.

Where you expected a shake of the tough guys head instead comes a bigger flush.

‘B..baka…Don’t say such things so frivolously…’

You watch the screen flash the character’s main portrait with the intimacy level filling all the way up. Something you had yet to be able to do.

“How did you…” You stare as you begin to prepare for the next part of the story.

“He’s a fucking tsundure. They act all tough but they’re all soft and shit.” He yawns as he watches you play quietly for the next twenty minutes. The men on the screen seem to pine for your attention, saying all sorts of devotions. Were you always this hungry for attention and affection?

You didn’t act like it during class or even when Denki tried to ask you out. In fact you seemed cold only ever spiking any sort of emotion when you were around Bakugou.

And that was solely ever wrath or rage.

The thought snakes its way to his heart, coiling it in a tight vice. He swallows thickly, it does nothing to alleviate the pain in his chest.

“Is this what you want in a boyfriend?” He asks aloud, he notices the dusting on your cheeks.

“Well…” You start but cannot bring yourself to finish. Your man of choice flashes across the screen. Hand held out, eyes averted as he says something so damn sweet. Bakugou sucks his teeth beside you.

“I could be a better boyfriend.” He selects your option for you again, you think for sure he is going to sabotage it this time, but your “intimacy” levels all the way up once again. You side eye him while crimson eyes bore into your screen.

“You? A boyfriend?”

He thinks of your wish, he thinks it wouldn’t be so bad to fulfill it. Shit he had to be better than a virtual one.

Then again a virtual one hardly ever had a real temper.

“Yes me, a boyfriend.” Is his only reply. Your brain goes into hyper drive as you let the question sink in.

“Wa…wait are you asking me out?”

“FIVE!” The rest of the class downstairs begins to shout, reaching all the way up to the two of you enveloped in the intimacy of your room. Somehow you deepen in hue as you become hyperaware of your proximity

He holds your gaze carefully biting the inside of his lip.

“FOUR!”

“Depends, you might not like me once we are uncuffed. You claimed you’d rather be tethered to grape shit head than me. ‘We don’t like each other much.’” His voice dips dangerously low as he repeats your words back. He tucks some hair behind your ear as your heart races.

“THREE”

“I…” Words lodge in your throat.

“TWO”

He can no longer deny that he wants to be some sort of happiness in your life, especially so after seeing that you’d rather turn towards a program than a human being for any sort of affection. He watches your lips in the low light, you do not speak further but you do not avert your gaze.

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The rest of the class screams from the common room. Bakugou’s body moves on its own accord as he leans in kissing you gently, bringing in the new year with you. He goes to pull away, staring into your glittering eyes, stomach twisting as he thinks of your laugh

Of your smile

And how selfishly he wants it all for himself.

“The offer still stands after we are freed tomorrow.” With that he turns onto his side giving you his back.

‘B…baka’  Your phone echoes out in the darkness, you lock the screen and stare at the ceiling as if it had the answers.

It gives you nothing but more questions in return.

[comelylust]

NSFW Alphabet -Miguel Rojo

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It will depend on the type of sex you had if it was while you were both drunk, he will probably lie down next to you and start bothering to be hungry, He'll get up to the kitchen and prepare you food and something for your hangover 

If they are sober, he is not very talkative after sex, he will only ask if you are ok but he is a person who will fall asleep immediately, naked and probably without a blanket.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite part, probably his hands  good for hitting.

About his partner  would say that her breasts, loves to play with them and more with your nipples, can not help but make fun of you doing that. 

Something more innocent? his neck/shoulders, he likes to rest his head on your shoulders,when he gets naughty he likes to bite you

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Miguel's semen is normal, not so watery or thick, but it cums a lot.

He doesn't care about the pregnancy issue.

 So he hates using condoms, the sensation of latex makes him uncomfortable, (this only applies to his formal partner) he prefers to cum inside you and you drive him crazy when you beg him to do so.

He also has a guilty taste for cuming on your face (facial)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When you get angry with him and scold him, he thinks you look too hot playing the dominant role, he controls himself quite well but still doesn't avoid thinking about fucking you at that very moment.

Another secret is when he sees you fighting  he turns it on pretty fast.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Quite experienced in spite of this he never had a stable and lasting relationship until he met you, he knows what he is doing and uses it to his advantage, as you are the only person he really loves in the beginning he will be slow and gentle going towards vanilla.  After that, be prepared that you'll need a wheelchair

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

The classic doggystyle? Yeah, but! With variation to downward dog: he likes to carry you from behind, pull your hair and bend your arm over your back at first you find it strange because of the variation he makes, but the more he pushes you forget about it.        

Cowgirl, despite being a dominant man, does not mind using this position because it is easier to penetrate to the depths of your being, instead if he like it does not mean that he will always use, it depends on his  mood.

Any position that allows he to go deeper and hit your g-spot more easily, Anvil is perfect for this, when he it is about to cum he push your thighs to your chest giving him better access to your sweet spot.

 G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

If something funny or uncomfortable happens and he ignores it completely, he's too focused on doing something else to think about the embarrassing situation that just happened.

 H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

It grows naturally and will never be trimmed. It is as curly, dark and thick as him hair.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He is romantic in his way and at first may become uncomfortable, remembering that he is not used to this new feeling. When he feels comfortable during sex, he will let out a few words of affection for you

"You're really beautiful" "I love the way you move" etc...

 J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate even if you have bothered him with some sexy gesture, he prefers to have you but if you did it when he's about to leave for work he will keep a dirty image of you in his mind to keep him animated and when he comes home, he can punish you for what you did to him.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's too kinky.

 choking: he's a fan of doing this when he's about to cum, obviously he'll do it carefully and safely so as not to kill you, but hard enough to make you breathless. He also enjoys spanking you and pulling your hair.

He can be a little sadistic about denying your an orgasm until you beg for it.

 L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Both of their homes are literally baptized because they can't wait to get to bed or because they really like to experience new places.

 M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your flirtatious and insinuating smile, for him it's a pass to fuck you.

Putting on something nice that sticking out a favorite part of his body.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No humiliation allowed, or anything else nasty.

Likes to mark you with hickeys or bites but does not like to hurt you.

 O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He prefers to receive over give, you can also be jocular with him just when he is about to cums, get it out of your mouth. and make fun of him. It's a risk you have to take.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

At first it is sensual and slow, but when it becomes confident it becomes fast, messy and rough.

This does not mean that it will stop being slow but it will be combined with hard pushing.

 Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Yeah, if you're really in need or you've been away too long, get a quickie.

He never turns down a quickie.

 R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He likes to take risks but will not say so openly, one of them can be sex in public, he is not afraid of being caught as it can scare anyone who dares to look too much.

Try new positions when it comes to sex, but don't experience something that can be really dangerous

He really likes to experiment.

 S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He can go 2-3 rounds but it is difficult to give an estimate of how long each round may last, even if you only go for one round your wishes will be satisfied.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't know much about sex toys, nor does he find them interesting, he prefers to take care of your needs. But if you really want to turn him on, send him a video of you using some of your toys.

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He lives to annoy you and likes to hold back your orgasm to the point that you're crying about it. He likes you to beg whether you crave his touch or to fuck you senseless.

 V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He is very loud, he moans, pant and grunts especially cursing in their language quite loudly, he is also good, quite good at dirty talk so much that every time you remember him you will be embarrassed.

 W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Maybe he's had one-night stands with a bunch of girls, Miguel didn't have the perception of reality much less loving someone since his sister was taken from him. But now since he met you, sex and lovemaking are totally different things.

Before he only focused on draining his frustrations, now he totally focuses on you and your pleasure even though he  put his emotions into it.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Its length and circumference is slightly above average and it is a little curved, the skin of its penis is darker, the glans is a dark reddish tone, it has veins a little more marked than average.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He has a fairly high sex drive, no self-control so he will always be sending you blatant hints to have sex.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

When he's done, he falls asleep right away without you doing anything, normally he sleeps on you crossing his legs with yours and one of his arms rests on your belly.

[writtenbyvenus]

What We Do In The Shadows

( Warning, this is in RP format, but has been edited and proof read for grammar/flow. A change between writers with both characters is symbolized by italics. )

Chapter 2: Entering The Wolf’s Den

Werewolves and vampires: two species that are mortal enemies. But in a small town in Upstate New York, they seemed to find a way to co-exist by staying out of each other's way and minding one's business. However, the dynamics of the local pack of werewolves and coven of vampires would change when a certain pair got too close for comfort. Alfred is an over seventy-year old werewolf posing as local law enforcement, while Ivan is a centuries old vampire working at a blood bank. Both try to get through the struggles of being immortal creatures, who find themselves in a cultural and family struggle when they fall for each other. Between an anti-vampire pack leader, suspicious in-laws, and a death that could nearly tear two families apart, the pair questions if a relationship is a reality, or if they have too much baggage they carry. 

Alfred could tell he offended his baby bat. From his body language to ‘Don’t wait up’, his vampire was not pleased with being forced alone and having to wait. It seemed that the vampire had a lot of pride, they were prideful creatures after all. Being told by the wolf ‘Hang by yourself then’ must have hurt his ego, as he reached out to hang out with Ivan in the first place. Smelling the man’s disdain, once he got back into his room, he hoped that Ivan would knock on his door again. But when he didn’t he did pout. Perhaps he was too harsh on his crush. Rethinking his actions, he did wish Ivan would have knocked on his door. He would welcome the man in and enjoyed some light cuddling while he watched dragons breath fire on people. However, it seemed to be that the man was too offended by the idea. Watching the show, he got bored as he wished Ivan was next to him. Thinking for a moment, he came up with an idea to tempt Ivan into his apartment. Standing up, he didn’t bother to pause the show as he went into his room. Grabbing his pencil and sketch pad, he decided to let Ivan see his secret hobby: drawing. His love of anime and cartoons inspired him to take up drawing as a hobby. But he was very embarrassed about it, and would rarely show people his artwork. Even if it was great and matched up well with popular artists on social media, his own anxiety made it a hidden talent. He’d let very few people see his drawings, for him it was about the fun of it. He didn’t need validation for it, it was his hobby. He’d color, sketch, and draw, just for himself. Sitting back on the sofa, he decided to use a more cutesy-anime style. Drawing him and Ivan, he gave Ivan little bunny ears, and wolf ears on himself. Nicknames like ‘bunny’ and ‘ kitten’ were ones he saved for people he found cute.

It was ironic since it was the prey of wolves. He did want to eat up a cute bunny or kitten, but more in a playful manner. Ivan’s foreign accent made him think of a hot blonde he’d see at a ski resort. With the cutesy image of him and the bunny, he made sure to draw him smirking and showing off his canine teeth. Ivan didn’t look scared in the art, only giving the cocky smirk he usually gave Ivan. It was only their heads and torsos, and on the top, he wrote ‘After your sister’s leave, wanna get something to eat?’. It was Alfred’s peace offering. Getting up, he walked to Ivan’s apartment door. Instead of knocking, he simply slipped the art under his door. Ivan would come across it once he was around the area. He didn’t want to disturb the blood-sucking bunny current if he truly had plans. Going back to his room, he continued on his Game of Thrones binge, praying that the vampire would come by later. In terms of a ‘meal’, it could be anything the man wanted. They could go hunting together, Ivan finding some unsuspecting human, and Alfred a lonely deer. Or, more orthodox, actually somewhere to snack. Or just stay in his house and cook something homemade. Whatever the man had a thirst for, blood or food.

 Over in his own apartment, Ivan put a sponge to his red-stained mugs, putting his strength into getting the crusted blood left to the bottom. When he turned his heel to load his dishwasher something white caught his eye. He set his dishes in the rack before scanning the floor before his door. Stepping away from the sink, he approached the mysterious note and turned his head to look down upon it. Recognizing the resemblance of his face, his cheeks flushed with red. He bent down and snatched up the paper into his hands. His heart nearly lurched from his chest and onto the freshly spotless floor. He'd have to deal with the recycled blood burning his face for a few more minutes before getting over the gesture. The strange conversation and insight earlier blended oddly with the feeling he had now. Mostly charmed, but slightly uneasy. He found it bold, not unwelcomed, but surprising from Alfred. His finger traced over the leaded indentations as he took a seat at his breakfast nook. It was beyond flattering, a style he hasn't seen before, but charming. He thought of it slightly egotistical to be set next to the man who drew it, but grateful for it. It made it easier on his eyes. Bunny ears. That was a new one for him. Bat wings were a popular addition for scriptures and etchings. He wasn't used to seeing some draw him in a kindly way. Most depictions of him resonated with evil tellings and horrifying accounts of his figure hunched over a decaying body. Town folk never were pleased when he would make an appearance in their streets. It's why moving was a must for him, he needed supplies like everyone else. Curiosity struck him as he wondered how much moving Alfred must have been up to. Being ageless caused too much suspicion. 'My, Avgustin, you don't look a day over twenty-five' were the last words he heard before leaving his old home behind. Sometimes he wishes to grow old.

 The little question scribbled down beside the art was one he had to consider thoroughly. One that made his heart stop. He rattled his fingers across the surface of the table and reread the words. 'your sisters' it didn't make any sense to him, he swore up and down that he didn't whisper a word of his relations. Sighing and sliding the paper away from him, he sat quietly to calm his nerves and lay his head down on the table. He did plan on inviting his sisters over and that included sharing his haul of blood, but now all he wanted to do was head next door and talk to Alfred. The warmth clung to him like it usually did, an unbearable heat holding to his face. It would only embarrass him further to give in so easily. He pressed his face into the cool wood and closed his eyes for a moment before leaving it behind. Nothing would give him closure, he wanted to be next to Alfred and that would be the only way to get the werewolf out of his thoughts. Groaning, he began finishing up the rest of his dishes. After flicking on his dishwasher, he took the art and walked it back to his room. He was trying to wait out the lingering warmth to his face and most of it faded, but not all of it would give him that peace. Before he finally left his apartment, he messaged his sibling group that he wouldn't be home. There wasn't much his poor sisters could do if something were to go wrong, but he just didn't want them asking him to death about where he went. Hesitantly, he knocked on Alfred's door and waited. His heart didn't stop racing, he didn't find himself nervous around werewolves very often, but Alfred had that effect on him.

 It was good for Alfred’s ego that he wasn’t there to witness Ivan’s reaction to the note. Seeing blushing, flattered Ivan would cause the wolf to grin, and show off his canines in the glory of knowing he charmed the vampire. It would be in Ivan’s best interest to let Alfred enjoy it if he enjoyed the ‘bunny’ persona, as Alfred would happily go with it. A cute nickname for a cute boy, not to mention, Alfred understood the niceness of not being referred to something scary. Alfred was like Ivan in that way, no one knew better than him what it was like to be personified into a godless beast, with nothing charming and cute about it. Being compared to something as harmless and pretty as a bunny was probably emotionally soothing, which was part of the reason Alfred did it. A bunny is adorable, warm, and cozy, the last thing that goes to someone’s head is fear over the animal. Ivan could be Alfred’s harmless, sweet bunny if he wanted too. Even if Alfred drew himself to be a wolf, he was still a childlike puppy in many ways, even with the slight bloodlust that he had. Minus that, he was a silly, carefree man. But the transformation did take some part of his personality and make it more intense. Alfred was lost in his marathon when he could smell Ivan walking down the hallway.

 Sniffing the air, a smile popped out when he could smell the nervousness on him. Has the note made him nervous? He wasn’t sure if it was ’I’m nervous about how excited I am to see him...’ or ’I’m just scared of him’ anxiety, he couldn’t smell that. Only that the man was dealing with some emotions due to the note. He wondered if the part about his sister’s had made Ivan worried. In all honesty, it was just a bold guess on who was coming over. Alfred was aware that Ivan had siblings or at least relatives, he could smell other vampires around, and two females had a similar scent to him. He concluded that someone was either related to him, and a female. Sister’s were the most logical answer, but cousins, aunts, and other distant relatives were all possible. Alfred’s lucky guess had helped his case. Standing up, he walked to the door, offering Ivan a gentle smile as he raised a brow. “Did your plans cancel? That sucks. But, you’re welcome to come in, babe. I got a spot on the sofa for you.” He stepped back to let Ivan inside his house, the first time he’s ever done that. Inviting a vampire into your home? The biggest no-no in the world, but here was Alfred not caring, per usual. He was going to bring up how they’d dined tonight, either traditional or unorthodox, but he’d give Ivan a moment to settle in before speaking of murder and hunting. He was a gentleman after all! Sitting down on the couch, he leaned back and patted the seat next to him.

 Being a man who admired his dignity more than his enjoyment, Ivan had already become irritated with his own decision. He was visiting a friend, he didn't understand why he had to make it stand out so much for himself. There wasn't any loss to giving in to spend time with someone you enjoy, but he couldn't help but consider how overly friendly the drawing was. Trying not to overthink it, he mimicked the grooves he felt and pressed them into the palm of his hand. He adored the small act, but it was overshadowed by the fact that Alfred was a suitable match against him. The fact that he actually found himself pining after the chummy little wolfman was alarming at times. He was risking many aspects of his life by even accepting the invitation to come over. If he ever got closer to Alfred, it wouldn't be logical. With the outgoing personality Alfred shined out constantly, he was sure that he couldn't be a lone wolf. There were others. He smelt them when he walked down the street or by chance in the meat section of the corner store. Werewolves, vampires, they all hid in plain sight, but it wasn't right for him to assume that all of their kind knew each other. Much like dogs though, he knew that werewolves must greet each other. Alfred had to have at least, he guaranteed himself that. It confused him to be welcomed in with that case, it scared him almost. He didn't understand why Alfred trusted him so much when he knew what he was. Unfortunately, a vampire's sense of smell isn't as powerful as a dog's thus he wasn't able to detect other bodies in the apartment. His nose was just used to Alfred passing by and in his baskets of clothes.

 He wrote off the name babe quickly, trying to blame it on habit. "My plans didn't cancel. You were just acting particularly lonely so I thought I would give in and offer you some company." Teasing, he calmed down significantly at the sight of Alfred smiling patiently. Elated by the idea of finally setting foot into Alfred's humble abode with the help of some keywords, he beamed and eased his head through the doorway. He's never seen beyond the door so it was a new experience for him. It wasn't much different than his habitat, the layout was a given, but he didn't catch any deers hanging from the ceiling so it was a bonus. Ivan liked to keep his living area tidy along with his kitchen, but once someone hits his room, that's when everything starts falling apart. Never does he bother to make his bed or take out his clothes from the basket to hang them up. His nightstand, though barely a foot wide, somehow holds a lamp, three different alarm clocks, and always a few dirty dishes. A part of him wanted to head through Alfred's apartment and check out his bedroom. "When were you going to tell me that you knew how to draw?" He paced over to the sofa and took a seat away from Alfred, a cushion between the two of them so he had some space.

 Alfred was pleased to have Ivan enter his house. The bunny entering the wolves den, almost. Stretching out his legs, he rested one of his arms on the headrest, eyes lingering to his shows. Ivan's excuse was cute, he didn’t even cover up with a lie about them canceling. He canceled on them for him. What about that, it added to Alfred’s ego. His eyes were careful not to linger too long, but every few moments, they’d turn to Ivan’s body as he found a quick way to verbally eat him up. “Well, thanks for giving the company. And I don’t really like talking about it since I get shy... It’s kind of a personal thing. I just draw things for myself, and no one else.” It truly was a personal hobby, but he would draw more for Ivan again if it made the man come around often. It worked the first time, so why not again? He wouldn’t mind after all. He smirked when someone was murdered on the screen. Alfred’s house proved to be on average with a clean to messy ratio. He wasn’t the cleanest guy, but he wasn’t the stereotypical dirty, living off of paper plates type of dude either. He knew how to mop, take out the trash, and vacuum, but sometimes would get lazy with dishes and let it pile up.

 His habit of being sexually open also gave him a reason to keep his apartment good looking. Showing a cute boy or girl a disgusting, dirty apartment would be embarrassing. His room was surprisingly not that bad, his only problem with being lazy and letting clean clothes stay in a pile and not putting them away. He’d also never make his bed, but he’d always throw away garbage in fear of getting ants in his room. He was proud of a fox fur blanket that he had, he’d love to show Ivan. It was during a couple of days in wolf form, he hunted down several silver foxes. They are known for being used heavily in the fur trade, and lucky enough, he was able to find some living in the wild nearby. It took a few days of stalking, but he was able to hunt down enough for the blanket. Another older werewolf knew how to skin fur and make coats and blankets, and helped him with the process. It was special to him, proving his strength and hunting skills. It was also soft and luxurious; usually, he had to lie to people and say it was a gift or passed down in his family. There wasn’t much pride in saying someone gave it to him. But with Ivan, he could open up and tell how he got something worth thousands of dollars in his hands; he worked for it. The warm fur was perfect during cold winter nights in upstate New York. “I’m so lucky to have a nice friend like you. I owe you a warm meal after this...” He teased, patting Ivan’s leg before putting it back in his own lap, eyeing the TV.

 "You being shy? That's a first. With the way you draw, I thought you would boast about it." Ivan was trying to compliment his host, something small, but not enough to curse himself with. In both ways, Alfred's ego was something he had to handle with caution. Cheer on the man too much and he'll be putting up with cocky smirks up until the time he had to leave. Say something a little too cruel and the bubbly wolf will turn into a babbling mess. Simply acknowledging that fact to Alfred would tear him up one way or another, Ivan knew it and planned to keep things nice and light. "You somehow captured your narcissism on a single piece of paper, it's really impressive." He made sure to sound disingenuous, eyes taking note of Alfred's position. As time went on, the show became less interesting to him. Any shock value or plot development was drowned out by the way the werewolf's face lit up. The small dust of color that humans held in their cheeks was pumping across Alfred's face. He could feel the warmth radiating off the other body. If he buried his face into Alfred's shoulder, he could get a little taste. He didn't plan on chomping down hard, just a small nip. All he needed was a drop of blood to satisfy his burning curiosity. Alfred was too smart, the vampire knew that he'd be shoved away if he even kissed his neck.

 There was pride in tackling down a difficult opponent, he understood that. He had grown immune to feeling too miserable about killing some creature or human off. Animals weren't inherently evil, but humans could be. He's witnessed hundreds and hundreds of years of solid proof of how villainous a single human can be. It gave him some peace to think that he was killing off someone who deserved it, but the consequences of his actions stabbed into his thoughts when a moment was too quiet. They were all just people like him and his sisters, but he couldn't help the survival of the fittest. It was inevitable that he would kill again, he knew that his blood bank job wouldn't last forever. Eventually, he'd have to relocate again, find new prey and discover more immortals. Alfred, for now, was a dash in his timeline, but he hoped to extend it. He wanted to stay a little longer and enjoy his time with the werewolf. The thought of dining outweighed heavily on his mind, but one he was certain that what he was nearly drooling over wasn't what Alfred was implying. He could lurch over and sink his fangs into the nape of his dear friend's neck and sample the blood. "I'm lucky to have a good friend like you too... and, as friends, I'm sure you don't mind me asking how old are you- how old you really are." Returning the physical contact, he reached over and pinched at Alfred's cheek. It slightly broke his heart to be called a friend, but it was what they were and he'd rather be on Alfred's good side than be against him. 

 “I’m glad you like my art.” He commented, rolling his eyes as he slightly blushed from the words. He was embarrassed by the skill but loved it still. He had plans of doodling Ivan later if he had the time. Perhaps even slipping it under his door again. But it was the best of Ivan’s interest to not kiss or go near Alfred’s neck. While he did adore the vampire; he wasn’t born yesterday. Far from it, and it would win a physical push or any other action that showed dominance. The wolf inside him was an Alpha, no doubt. There would be no neck biting, kisses, or smooches unless Ivan wanted a bite back in his neck. But Alfred did accept the pinch, finding it cute that the man was finally getting to the point. After all the time they’ve been neighbors, now he wants to know some real information? He’d play, as long as Ivan played back. “My age? Well, I like to tell people I’m twenty-three. Most people buy it. I was really born in 1941 though, so I guess I look young for my age! Ha! What about you?” He turned, his eyes smiling along with his lips. Raising a brow, he looked at Ivan up and down, checking out the man. He picked up details from his encounters with Ivan and compared to it how other vampires acted. “What are you? Four? Five? Six hundred? Oh wait- Are you post or pre Catherine The Great?” He teased, knowing basic Russian history. His adulthood was during the height of the Cold War, so he knew a lot about Russia.

 He was about to make a joke about if Ivan was post or pre ‘Commie-Russia’, but he didn’t want the man huffing and puffing out of his house. Ivan appeared to be the type that might be highly offended by a stereotypical ‘commie’ joke, so he wasn’t going to play his cards. He had the bunny in his den, no need to ruin it. Taking a chance, he decided to lay his head on Ivan’s outer leg. Adjusting his body, he laid on his sides as his eyes stayed on the screen, but his head was resting on top of Ivan’s thigh. He wanted a way to feel Ivan without touching her per se. His messy, blond hair was screaming to be touched, Alfred’s cheek pressing against his leg. He tried to act relaxed as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Man, sometimes I feel old but I bet you feel ancient when anyone speaks to you, huh?” He joked, appearing not to be startled by the conversation. He wondered, was Ivan’s skin soft? Could he blush? Was his fat soft? If he squeezed him, would it feel like a stone? Or skin? He never got close enough to a vampire to touch them intimately, the only times he’s had his physical contact with vampires was in wolf form, killing them in his bite. Not a great comparison to what he wanted to do to Ivan.

 Ivan was thrilled to receive a blush, it always warmed his ever slow and cold heart. It made the involuntary expression even more rewarding when regarding that Alfred was a perilous creature just as he was. He felt a bit guilty for not having anything ready to give back when he came over. Drawing wasn't much of a passion for him, he was more into crafts. He could knit something for Alfred, but he wasn't sure if that would be too bold. With how high strung he wound himself up to be, he figured that the werewolf didn't fall far from the feeling around him. Anything made to comfort was suspicious as if to butter the other up. He had to be careful not to cross any lines and set alarms off in Alfred's head. Even if he wanted to drag the relationship further along and at least get to hug on Alfred without being awkward or stepping over bounds, he knew he had to be slow. It was a precaution for himself and Alfred. Hearing the werewolf's real age was a good step, not too big but not too small of a step. "Ah, so you're... in your seventies? My, I guess you really have aged well. Twenty-three does fit you more than an old man who's lived through a world war." It was better to congratulate Alfred than to compare himself to him. To be given a seemingly honest answer was a bit of a surprise to him in the first place. There were a dozen more questions he wanted to ask about the American. He's never found a werewolf civil enough to sit down and talk to; he wanted to know everything about the culture and the process. He wasn't clear on whether or not Alfred was joking or not, grimacing either way. "Do I really come off as that young? Young enough to be post Catherine the Great... That's nice to know." The home he knew wasn't quite developed enough to secure the capital and allow a ruler. "I was there before they even had tsars."

 He held his tongue when Alfred cozied up onto his leg, a faint smile to his lips as his hand twitched. "I prefer the term antique... even if being born in 1174 does make me more of a relic." Propping his head upon the armrest, he inched his fingers along his thigh towards Alfred's head. He could abuse the trust, grab the werewolf, and snap his mouth around his waiting neck, but he had better control over his intrusive ideas. "How do people become... werewolves? Is it by a bite from a werewolf or maybe something more ritualistic? I assume they don't consent to it, right?" Asking along, he slowly combed his fingers through Alfred's hair. Later on, he'd have to scrub himself down to get rid of the scent before his family meets him pinching their nose. "Or should I not ask that? It might be too personal." His smile calmed as he teased the other by scratching at the area behind his ear. "I'm sure you don't mind though."

 He was happy to feel Ivan’s fingers play with his neck and hair. Ivan not rejecting his touches, but accepting them was all he wanted. Yawning, he closed his eyes as he let his body relax around the man. He was even getting used to the smell, the overly sweetness not bothering him much anymore. “Wow... You are antique... I feel young compared to you, and I can remember Vietnam, Korea, the Middle East, and the Cold War.” Fighting for freedom and America was close to his heart. “My father fought in world war 2, and I entered Vietnam.” Coming back from service due to some injuries was how it happened; one day, camping with his comrades celebrating a return from service, they were attacked by a wolf. Alfred was the only one who survived, getting a deep cut on his chest. He put a silver bullet in the chest of the wolf, making it pay for taking his friend’s lives, but in the end, it’s curse never stopped. “You get bit or scratch. I got scratched, really hard. Most people die when they get bit or scratched, but I survived. I killed the wolf who attacked me and my friends. One silver bullet. That’s all it took...” Alfred whispered, his leg twitching when his ear was scratched. “How did you become a vampire...? It’s your turn to tell....” He asked, wanting to know every detail. “Did it hurt?” He asked, wondering if the transformation caused pain. It did for Alfred, becoming human to a werewolf the first time. The pain he wished he could forget. He turned his head up, looking up at Ivan with big eyes. Curious eyes that wanted the truth, not games. He pushed his body up, so more of his back and head was laying across Ivan’s lap, not just his thigh. Like a true puppy, he wanted to take all the attention and show his dominance. Laying on Ivan, and getting a pet was truly dog-like at this point. But the man could be more of a puppy than a wolf, he just had to be in the right mood. A great, calm, playful mood.

 There was no heat coming off Ivan’s body, the only source of warmth was Alfred. He couldn’t feel any heat over his clothes, he guessed if it put his hands on bare skin, Ivan would be chilly. He wondered if vampires feel hard or still have a softness to them. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m just curious. Vampires, are you guys stone? Or is your fat soft? Do you guys blush?” He asked, attempting to seem innocent. Blinking a few times, his innocent expression turned into a cocky grin. “If I grabbed your ass, would you move in my hand and turn red? Or? Would it be like grabbing a rock?” He asked, knowing he’d get an eye roll from Ivan, but he didn’t care. He needed to know the answers to his weird questions. His brain wondered a lot of things about Ivan and vampires overall. While he assumed that Ivan wouldn’t let him touch him with a ten-foot pole, he still is curious if the occasional thought is accurate.  

"I guess you really earned your dog tags that day." Ivan offered lightly, laughing quietly at the puppy-like mannerisms of a grown man visible unwinding over his lap. Turning into a werewolf sounded just as much of a travesty as being a vampire to him. He didn't have to imagine what waking up in a new body was like, but he didn't think that he could ever really fully understand what Alfred went through either. How he earned his status as a vampire was a shorter story, but he'd spare Alfred the details. There wasn't much special about the day when he first laid eyes on the tall lanky figure barrelling toward him, but the pain was still distinct and stabbing. If he hadn't been at death's doorstep that day, he would have put up a better fight, but being at his age back then was a time for letting the earth take you. His body was preserved in the age he died and awakened. His eldest sister landed at twenty-nine and his youngest encased himself with health by being eternally twenty. They could age at will, but never make themselves younger. In that aspect, he considers himself lucky, but being a vampire wasn't his fondest thing. The moment was still fresh on his mind, how vulnerable he was, and how he let the same fate happen to his sisters. It was embarrassing to retell his inevitable cowardice. Since then, he's become more agile and stronger, but that was mostly due to his transformation. "There's a serum that comes out only from certain fangs, but you can feel it course all over your body when they stab into your neck... It hurts about as much as someone sticking two needles into you- you don't like those, do you? That's fine." He continued to tease Alfred over the blunt lie, refusing to call him out on it. It was hard for him to give that up. "I couldn't turn you into a vampire though, I'd only end up sucking your blood because I don't have the stuff to inject you with."

 The science behind being a vampire wasn't widely available, but he tried to pass on the information he learned over the years as best he could. "The original vampires are the only ones who carry the serum to turn others into vampires... I'm not sure how they came about- no one does, but them." He separated and wiggled his fingers through more sections of Alfred's hair as he explained, grinning at the way his leg jerked like a dog. It was precious to his heart. "Every millennium or so, they show their face from their tomb and bite a few more unsuspecting victims. That's what I and my sisters have gathered from different vampires at least." The facts were hazy and never written down in fear of discovery. His thoughts trailed off as he enjoyed the heat coming off Alfred when he stretched across his lap. The inquiry seemed wholesome enough at first and he didn't mind answering it until Alfred had to make it dirty. "Oh, I don't know. If I slapped you in the face, would it be soft? Would you be blushing?" He snapped sarcastically, squishing Alfred's cheeks together in turn. "We're not gargoyles! Our skin is just the same as human flesh... So, yes... I guess if you were to grab my ass, it would turn red and move, but I'm not about to give you an example." Patting his face before returning to play with his hair, Ivan furrowed his brows. He grew up in a different time, getting those sorts of comments wasn't something he was used to. "Why are you curious about that sort of thing anyway? What makes you think I'll answer any questions after that?" Frustrated, he went back to scratching behind Alfred's ear to calm himself and the warmth sprouting over him. "Make it up to me by telling me how the moon affects you.

Alfred was shocked to learn the truth about vampires. He was told that all vampires had venom that had the potential to kill. Finding out that only a few did make him relieved, vampires aren’t as dangerous as he was told before. Seeing that even other vampires were unsure how they got the venom explained why his own kind was misinformed. Not to mention, vampires never made it clear about that little fact, nor would Alfred see why they would. Most vampires would rather seem scary and dangerous, having a poison inside them looming over someone’s head. “So? If you bite someone, you don’t have any venom? You’d inject nothing? That’s crazy, everyone thinks all vampires have something in their teeth.” This didn’t mean vampires were harmless, he knew that the creatures had superhuman strength and skill just like him. If a vampire wanted a werewolf dead, it was completely possible. Alfred was biased, and always thought he had the upper hand against vampires. In his personal, werewolf opinion, they were faster and stronger than vampires. But it came to pride than anything else, Alfred would never let his kind down. Even if he thought being a werewolf was more of a curse at times, he would show honor and stand up for himself and his other pack members. They weren’t human anymore, but they were still living beings. “Werewolves, we are different I guess. In wolf form, I think our saliva and body fluids when entering someone else’s skin, can turn them. I think of it as an illness... You get exposed, you’re one of us. With bites, it’s easy to see why it gets into someone’s bloodstream. I’m less sure about scratches though, how it turns us into werewolves. I’m gonna guess there’s just something in our claws that carries the virus.” 

 Alfred was no scientist, and there wasn’t exactly anyone out there experimenting and explaining the biology of werewolves. He couldn’t hold back his laugh when Ivan pinched his cheeks and got annoyed with his question. He deserved all the cheek squishes! “I just wanted to make sure my wet dreams were scientifically actual, that’s all.” He teased, closing his eyes when Ivan scratched the back of his ear. “Mm....” He lightly groaned, his leg twitching slightly. “Ugh. I hate full moons, man. It doesn’t make us mindless or crazy; we just are forced into wolf form as long as the moon is out. So usually, we have to stay outside. It isn’t too bad in the summer and spring, but when it’s cold out it's kind of annoying to have to find shelter. Nowadays, I go over to my friend Allen’s house during full moons. He has basically a farm and tons of areas that we can just... chill and wait out the full moon. It’s why I left the city, it’s one thing to find somewhere to hide during the countryside, another thing we’re everyone’s running around.” Alfred viewed it as more of an inconvenience if anything. Having to plan his life around one night was annoying!  Making sure he had no work, no one visiting, no one expecting him, and if anyone needed to contact him, he was M.I.A for about twelve hours. Alfred got over being horrified about his werewolf status, so more just bothered. “It’s just irritating to have to plan around full moons. But it’s just one day of the month a least....” He took a deep breath, deciding to ask Ivan a question. “Vampires, do you guys like....? Do you guys have a preference when it comes to blood? Like, do certain races taste different? Or is there a difference between boys and girls?”

"I may not be able to turn you, but I can still drain every ounce of blood out of you and leave you as a husk." He didn't like being underestimated. While he found Alfred semi charming, it was made clear to him that the werewolf was still a threat. It was only right for him to assure that he was the same, someone who shouldn't be tampered with. He didn't plan on devouring the sweet neighbor, but he's considered it. The man might just be naive enough to feel safe around a vampire. He didn't even feel comfortable around a vampire he barely knew. It came down to territory between him and a member of his kind. If there were too many vampires in the area, then suspicion rises. Too many bodies are dropping and someone isn't getting enough to drink. He's never personally killed a vampire, but he fought a great few years ago. Times have changed, most vampires have mellowed out and found alternatives to slaughtering a cognitive being. While Ivan has cooked up some solutions to give him the nutrients he needs in a blood-soaked diet, he finds the rich frothy taste of real blood to be too tantalizing. It's been a few months since he's actually stalked and killed someone; he's proud of himself for it. If his tracks are uncovered at the blood bank, he may have to come back to that lifestyle. Living life as a murderer was less glamorous than living life as a hunter. Hearing Alfred say that he could only turn people when in wolf form was a relief. He thought that at least he wasn't stumbling around accidentally making people immortal. "So you can only turn people into werewolves when you're a wolf?... I've never heard about the claws part, that's new to me." It wasn't known to him whether or not he would become a werewolf too if he was bitten, but it was most definitely a concern to him now. A werepire? A vampwolf? Whatever it was, it was conjured up disturbingly in his head. He'd keep his distance from now on if that was the case. 

Rolling his eyes at the wet dreams comment, he stopped rubbing his hands through Alfred's hair. "Are all werewolves this dense and vulgar? Or is it just you?" He'd roll the big puppy off his lap if he wasn't going to end up on the floor. Angering a werewolf was something he found surprisingly easy so he kept calm and tried not to seem too upset with Alfred. He liked the company; he didn't want to lose it. "Only during full moons? So you're essentially powerless up until then." Werewolves weren't too strong if they couldn't change at will. He felt significantly less threatened by Alfred's habit of showing his teeth. It was more of a parlor trick to him now, a small way to tease him. He thought of himself as lucky to have his powers with him all the time. It meant that he could tease and frighten Alfred all he wanted until the full moon popped out. He smiled to himself, gently rubbing a thumb to the American's open neck. "We do have preferences actually. The flavor really only varies with the blood type. My least favorite type is B-negative... it's a little bitter. Ah, but my favorite blood type of all has to be O-positive... thankfully, the most common." Shutting his eyes, he leaned back onto the headrest. It was always funny to him when someone walked into the clinic asking for a blood test to be done on them when he could just tell them then and there what they were. To remain undetected, he had to take a blood sample and let the customer wait out the process. He's seen a handful of mythical beasts walk through the blood bank doors while undercover, but those were the only creatures he couldn't seem to smell around. "Usually I can sniff out someone's blood type as they stand- but I can't detect your type on you. Your... werewolf musk has been blocking me." Furrowing his brows with sorrow, he twirled a piece of Alfred's hair between his fingers. "It's made me nothing but curious to find out yours- mere curiosity, trust me. I don't bite."

 Alfred wasn’t scared of the warning of getting his blood drained, as Ivan didn’t scare him. The vampire could puff out his chest and appear more frightening than he is, but Alfred stayed unfazed. He was too prideful to let a vampire put any terror into him. He scoffed when Ivan said that he was only powerful during a full moon. “Ha! Who said that I can only turn during a full moon? I said I’m forced to turn during the full moon, I can turn anytime I want the rest of the month. I could turn right now. It rips my clothes off, so I would rather not give an example.” Ivan shouldn’t feel any more relief in it, Alfred had his power all year round. “Don’t think I could turn you, though. I think our... virus is immune to you guys. Vampires aren’t alive, so it just... dies on you. We just end up killing you with our strength and fighting powers.” He explained, never hearing of a vampire and werewolf crossbred. He didn’t think it was possible, but who knew. He kept his eyes closed, enjoying getting his hair played with. A smirk crept up his face when he was accused of being vulgar. “I’m just a vulgar guy, that’s all. I say what I think.” That was true as well, Alfred didn’t have much of a filter, especially around other immortals. He was a man who laughed and cried easily, who displayed all the emotions he had in his heart. It was just who he was, and he didn’t want to change anytime soon. He offered a cute act of nuzzling his cheek on Ivan’s thigh, wanting his attention again. Getting his hair played with was a major comfort. His body would relax, and calm down when someone’s fingers ran through his dirty blond locks. There was something about Ivan that offered him comfort, even if he was a vampire. His disgustingly sweet scent wasn’t bothering him anymore, and his soft voice was more soothing by the moment.

 He smirks again when he hears about the blood type. “Oh? Then you’d love me. I’m O-positive.” He confessed, not scared since he knew Ivan wouldn’t bite him. If Ivan was going to drain him of his blood, he would have done it by now. Ivan didn’t need to cuddle up with him on his sofa to do it. “I’m glad my werewolf musk blocks it. Protects us from being victims of hungry, thirsty vampires like you. I’m not shocked at all that you work at a blood bank. I’m just surprised that you haven't noticed that you are stealing all the blood. How do you steal it anyway? Don’t they have protocols and stuff for this?” He questioned, always wondering how Ivan did it. He was either extremely talented, or the office was just stupid and lazy with their security. Who knew a man could get away with stealing countless pints of blood, but it was better than him going into town and murdering men in cold blood. “I’ll be honest... if you need some victims, I got a list of every sex offender, pedophile, and creep in town. Some people escape justice. So if you are hungry.... just tell me. I’ll get you a meal.” He had a sneaky grin, loving the idea of Ivan doing his dirty work. Instead of hunting these sickos in wolf form, his blood-sucking bunny could find a use for them.

 It shut Ivan's small victory down when he heard about the ability. The possibility of seeing wolves walk around during the day skyrocketed and he wasn't sure where his emotions landed on the issue. Everything about having the upper hand over someone was comforting to him, but he felt as if it wasn't that overwhelming. Alfred was harmless and most of his worries about werewolves came from prejudice. The only rivalry between the two creatures was one he welcomed. He had fun flirting with and teasing Alfred, but he didn't want to risk being too attached. If something were to come up that jeopardized his facade, then he'd have to book it out of New York with his sisters not far behind. Knowing Alfred's own immortality, he was sure the situation would be the same for him. He'd end up miserable if he grew even fonder of the man only to disappear the next day. Anyone else, he didn't care to shatter their heart, but the cute playful furball was just too hopeless. "You talk like a child telling me about how strong their favorite superhero is when you describe your own species." He humored, rolling his eyes at the nonchalant bragging. There wasn't much that annoyed him about Alfred, the man was pleasant to be around, but he had his own honor to attend to. Being a blood seeker wasn't glamorous by all means, but he had to defend what was a part of him. The relief felt from immunity still didn't suffice against the show off's insistence. Every step of the conversation was an act for him to prove that he could stand up against a werewolf; the worn-out joke tired him. He wanted to feel comfortable around Alfred, but nothing felt genuine as if he was waiting for something specific to come out. It reminded him of a patient puppy. Most stereotypes held about the bouncing, yapping few. Like dogs, they roll onto their back and practically beg to be pet, loved on at the very least.

 Giving in before the manchild started whining, he scrubbed his fingers along Alfred's scalp and through his strands. His eyes lit up at the confession, a big grin attached to his face. "Oh really? It's the most common blood type... but the most special to me. The rarity of it is only measured by my own longing for it." He wormed the corners of his mouth slowly down to mask his eagerness to jump on Alfred and dine out. "It's a very sweet taste- you should let me lap up any cuts you have in the future. I'll come over in a heartbeat and suck your wounds dry." The talk of blood left him parched, he distracted himself by fluffing up Alfred's hair. He wasn't entirely sure how his blood stash was known by the mutt, but he wasn't about to question it. His trust was growing high enough that he didn't care. "Most people don't know a pint from a pint and a half... it's a little dangerous for the donors, but I do sneak out an extra snack for myself when I think someone's gullible- so, I'm technically not stealing from the blood bank because they still get their pint of blood... I just drain another pint for myself. " He assured, hoping Alfred wouldn't rat him out. It would slip his mind often that the man was a cop. The only reason staff picked up on his master plan was the high rate of lightheaded donors coming out of his section. Now and then, they sent someone to check the equipment he was using, but nothing came of it. He's slowed on the packs he takes home to cool down the heat trailing behind his tail. "I might take you up on that offer someday, but my hands haven't been this clean of blood in a while... Unless you're in dire need of my assistance then I can help mark off some names for you- at a price, of course." Leaning down, he placed a chaste kiss to Alfred's forehead and gently brushed back the hair in his way. "Come over to the blood bank and I'll give you a donut if you behave... then maybe we can go track down some pedophiles and rip them apart together."

 Alfred didn’t have too many plans for leaving the town soon. He only had lived there for a few years, and he knew he could get away with his non-aging status for a while. People usually only would start to talk about how young he looked. Alfred would just lie and credit on genetics. ’My parents look super young too. ‘Our whole family doesn’t age.’ he’d lie, and it worked. He looked young and was young to everyone else, so no one questioned his age. He guessed he could last until he was in his mid-thirties before people thought it was just downright weird that he hadn't aged. It was why he attempted to stay out of the spotlight. Keep to himself a few groups of friends. It was hard, he was an extrovert. He is a popular personality, everyone would know who he was and wanted to be around him. But that changed when his mortality did, and unless he wanted to become a scientific experiment for the government, he had to keep a low profile. But he always came out at night, hitting clubs and finding relief in intimacy. If he couldn’t be surrounded by dozens of friends, he’d surround himself with pretty girls and boys, even if it was just one night. A sucker for love, it was even more troubling knowing he couldn’t get into a relationship with anyone. That was the hardest about this life, knowing he’ll always be alone. Almost everyone in his pack was male and straight. How come there were only a few queer werewolves? He was aware that he should branch out to new immortals, but it was difficult since his pack was so tight. There was a sense of betrayal being around other werewolf packs, it was frowned down. Your pack was your family, case closed. You suffered with them.

[ Here is the link to my Ao3, thank you if you read it <3 ]

[sugar-petals]

:: BTS As Your Vampire Boyfriends

warnings ⚠️ smut, blood mentions, fangs kink

♡ Includes places they gravitate towards and countries they lived in, with their current residence in italics. Imagined in a world where a vampire bite will not convert a human, but rather, where species coexist without interference.

↳ NOTE › fuck yeah, bangtan vamps! some bits are juicier, some fluffier, some funny, some heart-wrenching or romantic. you’re in for a surprise 🤓 enjoy!

⌈ Jimin ⌋ ➝ Urban Vampire. 20 years old. USA, Italy, Sweden. Dresses like your typical haute couture vanguard, complete with bow ties and fishnets. Always has the latest pop culture news from SNS to chat about. Majors in? You guessed it, fashion design. Frequents high-rise apartments of his talkative New Yorker friends, wears huge square shades to fend off sunlight whenever he can. But also just because. The new boutique around the corner? Jimin was the first one to buy that 307$ gleaming Versace choker when it opened. In gold. He might have gotten the $520 guilty pleasure loafers as well. Yes, he does own more shoes than you do. 90 pairs to be exact, it needs a separate closet. He will try on several a night even when you don’t go out and just kiss watching a movie. What on earth is the reason behind all that? It’s to look good for your human eyes only. After all, he can’t see himself in the mirror. If he’s bound to outlive you by fate, he says, at least you’ll get to see him at his very best for the time being. He condenses several of his future lives into the limited one with you. A dazzling outfit can be that diversion and solace. Changing it often makes him feel like living faster, even if he’s headed for immortality. You decided to get a couple wrist tattoo on that last September. Carpe Diem, seize the day.

So there’s a lot to do together. Bucket list after bucket list. But there’s still a routine. Jimin loves destroying his friends at Friday night bowling yet can’t help but let you win every time. No matter how much you provoke him, the guy will aim at the gutters. You actually met at bowling back then. Eleven months ago, at your bff’s b-day party where he was introduced to you as Park, inofficial Prince of Manhattan with a love for sweet blood, orgies, and fiery ladies. The orgies part turned out to be a rumor, but he does say you have sweet blood. Even if it’s bad etiquette among vampires and he knows how much of a vice it is, Jimin loves to subtly show off in front of werewolves and witchers with popular ig accounts about how affluent his vampire family is at underground runway shows. Or sometimes, even fancy dinners where he orders dish after dish for the two of you. His friends suspect it’s all to compensate for how small his canines are since Jimin dearly wishes they were pointier. You’ve assured him that it’s not just better for your neck but also oral sex in general. He’s devilishly good at that. A born lover. Small canines are cute and fashionable anyways, all other talk is bogus. Having a vampire boyfriend remains a special feat and wild ride. But it’s definitely worth it.

⌈ Yoongi ⌋ ➝ Metro Vampire. 27 years old. Japan, Nigeria, South Korea. Dressed in all black, hoodies and stretchy jeans galore. Studied dental sciences in Lagos and has quite some polished teeth himself, but hardly puts them to use nowadays because he’s been getting more Zen about it. Instead, he can’t live without the internet. It distracts him from any urges and thinking about the future, and teaches his inquisitive mind about everything he needs to know about navigating the wide human world beyond the subway. He travels from station to station in Sapporo with a ticket for eternity and the security of less sunlight, always in search for the best Wi-Fi to text you. Even after two years of dating, Yoongi is still fangs over heels in love. And, needless to say, fascinated by the antics of humankind. When you are preoccupied with work at a restaurant in the afternoon, he jobs as a casual broker with contacts to the griffin elites that run the financial market of mystical creatures. 

He frequently jokes that metro vampires are in fact metrosexual. Sometimes visits casinos to kill some time and watch people out of curiosity. His magical ability has caused several power downs in nearby flat complexes — strangely, never the one he is in — but its purpose and origin remain unknown. He’s consulted a supposedly wise street demon about it once but only got a long burp as an answer. Rude. So he travels on and on with the tube. He’s not as much on the go as it always seems, however. Yoongi spends a lot of his time gaming and lounging in your basement. Pretty much naked even if you don’t have sweaty sex at 3 AM. Although, when is it not 3 AM. You’ve developed a little late-night routine there. You bring him coffee, chat, make out, he buzzes you off with your favorite vibrator, you give him slow blowjobs that he records on his phone with shaky hands. Sometimes, with rimming involved, and more action later that night. Yoongi needs to eat pussy to stay on track, otherwise, he falls apart. He’s longing to kiss your breasts all the time and you hold hands when it gets steamy. No biting, he controls himself since he took too much one time. Because he hates planes, Yoongi once crossed the Atlantic in a cargo ship’s high cube not having blood for weeks. After compelling him to suck your whole body off cause dammit I’ve missed your lips, too, vamp guy, you were iron deficient for a month. Yoongi, forever apologetic, has made it a habit to buy you vitamin juice ever since, and orders his blood online.

⌈ Jungkook ⌋ ➝ Forest Vampire. 261 years old. Canada, Bolivia, Ukraine. Dressed in a large flaxen coat and heavy boots. Owns a distant log cabin between scenic, dense firs in the Rocky Mountains. Where most of his day is all about chopping and stacking firewood to take his laser focus off blood cravings and not so random boners. He daydreams of you moaning in just about every hot position possible. Sometimes pleasuring yourself or grinding on his cock. And your fucking scent. It’s what really makes him hard. And tremendously flustered. He could be 261 million years old, it would still catch him off guard to suddenly remember the smell of your sweat and hair. The first time experiencing it, Jungkook shortly blacked out and salivated on the ground for 15 minutes. Human pheromones are just about every forest vampire’s favorite addiction. Out of all BTS members, he is the most sensitive to light or artificial noise and instinct-reliant, so he tries to be cautious. Regardless, always hoping that you fill his mind with your red-hot image. This guy is so whipped — at this point, he can sell a portion of the wood he chops daily and still heat the oven for weeks with the rest.

Nature has everything he desires. Silence, vastness. It’s peaceful. A lot of animals roam the area. It calms his fantasies to some degree. He’s spent many decades in the Amazon rainforest, it’s no surprise. He likes to watch deer and talks to the occasional satyr past midnight. Doesn’t own a lot of money, but knows how to prepare a hearty meal for you when you visit him. That’s what makes JK feel like a million dollars. And once the plate is empty: Time for carnal sex. He can fuck for two hours, one even on a bad day. When he drinks from you, the sheer neck stimulation through sucks alone can make you approach orgasm. With a little help from his fingers on your clit, boy is he gonna blow your mind. This shit will teleport you into alien dimensions. He won’t aim for anything less. Whatever his saliva does, it infuses you with serotonin for two, three days after, and your friends back home know with one glance: Cabin guy did it again. You’ll both be lightheaded and covered in hickeys by the end of your encounters if the weather is particularly indoorsy and you don’t go fishing. He wishes he’d never have to come to a city because of the bustling streets and lack of forest fairies that soothe his mind. But sometimes, buying new clothes is due. You go to a comparatively manageable shopping mall after rush hour where you can’t keep your hands off each other in the dressing rooms. Life with JK won’t ever bore you, that’s guaranteed. The cherry on top: He wields an unregistered type of magic that can manipulate all kinds of water streams — he’s created a little creak beside his cabin and named it after you.  

⌈ Seokjin ⌋ ➝ Cottage Vampire. 311 years old. Switzerland, Morocco, and Mongolia. Dresses all cozy with big sweaters and trench coats. Jin sells self-grown fruit and vegetables at the market downtown on Saturdays and Sundays. With vivid gestures and plenty of small talk topics up his sleeve, he befriends just about any stranger with two minutes spare time to talk about cheese, chocolate, and the notoriously high prices. Jin is among the most popular stall owners because of the many discounts he grants literally anybody. The Swiss way of very neat, organized, and especially neutral living appeals to Jin who has seen far too many messy wars go down since he was turned into a vampire. You didn’t believe it at first: By a British royal named Hamish back in 1708, inheriting him a magical ability to learn languages particularly fast so his Swiss German is perfected to a T. Jin is an utmost textbook rural sweetheart of the village. He takes care of the cottage with you like clockwork. Watering the herbs, painting walls here and there, cleaning the kitchen, always saying hi to the neighbors. Drinking tea on the terrace, with some cheesecake and cream on the fork, watching the cornfields sway in the wind is the good life. Simple, but meaningful.

There are a lot of lively and busy little blackbirds around the house joining you to pick up some crumbs, and Jin turns on the radio to play old-fashioned folk music of whatever Alp orchestra was recorded thirty years ago. The cake is gone all too soon, and the sun sets. You’re happy. Jin is a loyal and moral vampire who has adopted a vegetarian diet ten years ago and didn’t look back once. No cheating! Even if the market sells a lot of tasty ham and sausages. He’s sworn off that. After 311 years, even vampires start to think about their diet. A lot of fellow vamps in the area think he’s one strange guy, but Jin won’t bother. He gets all of his blood from a nearby hospital for a hefty price because he doesn’t want to drink from you all the time no matter how much you ask him. Sex is a better pastime. Chocolate lover Kim got a big dick and decades worth of time developing how to use it. Jin, when he does nibble at you, also has a very pleasant bite that doesn’t leave marks or just about any kind of bruise. He doesn’t want to tell you his secret because apparently, an old and rather nit-picky basilisk told him. Somewhere in a dusty attic of a Marrakesh craft store selling lamps and the most splendid of perfumes, 170 years ago. If he spills the beans, the special trick is dissolved. So... hush. Some things are better left top secret when it comes to basilisk magic.

⌈ Taehyung ⌋ ➝ Museum Vampire. 750 years old. Paris, London, and Sydney. Always dons crisp vintage tuxedos in the muted, heavily tailored style of the 1920s. He’s gotten attached to that era. Unsurprisingly, museum vampires are truly nostalgic creatures. Perhaps, also a bit melancholic at one point. Immortality is a two-edged sword. So, Taehyung clings to everything that endures the times. Statues, rustic vases, coin collections, preserved tunics, temple relics, especially fossils of all kind. His favorite place to roam at night is the museum shop or department for Greek, Etruscan, and Roman Antiquities. And indeed, it is the Louvre, what other museum could it be. Taehyung has mastered a convenient invisibility spell at the whooping age of 142 by chance after sneaking around the graveyard of Montmartre, trying to blend in with some friendly ghosts who taught him a trick or two. So the CCTV and guards don’t pick up on him unless he manipulates objects displayed in the exhibitions. 

Which he feels tempted to. But Taehyung prefers to meet you in a snug alley café at dawn. The one where they don’t serve garlic-heavy dishes. You’ve already seen so much of the museum together in the course of a 4-year relationship. And he can’t possibly dick you down in the gallery of Dutch and Italian masters no matter how horny either of you is, mind you. You’d get anemic fast if you’d be sucking and fucking all the time anyways, and Taehyung really isn’t down to take a lot of blood from you. A little, as you always call it, prick’n’lick is what he usually goes for when you have time to meet in your flat. And maybe a deep, warm creampie to top it off because he knows that his semen does some stuff to you that only vampire magic can cause. You’ll be giddy and talk complete nonsense about Dadaism, Kahlo, and Kandinsky for three hours. Pregnant you can’t get since human with human, vampire with vampire is how the math goes. But extremely high, apparently. So, prick’n’lick. Your favorite activity. Talk about oral fixation: Vampire Tae has a strong obsession with strawberry ice cream. And... caressing your body, seriously. He is into some major VDA (Vampiric Displays of Affection). Believes that in your past life, you were the grand dame Mona Lisa herself. And a flapper. He writes poems about that and keeps them in a huge diary in the cellar of the Louvre. Some bittersweet, some sensual, some full of adoration. You treasure your time with him, always. 

⌈ Hoseok ⌋ ➝ Castle Vampire. 1827 years old. UK (Scotland), Greece, China. Dresses exactly the way you think a dapper castle vamp is suited up. Ruffles, tight pants, gloves, large hats with feathers, tons of Italian lace, even slightly heeled shoes with pointed toes. Has been alive when Sparta was still a thing, saw what went down in the uproar of the actual French Revolution in passing, met Marilyn Monroe, almost got on the Titanic as a passenger, but has enjoyed the Rennaissance the most so far so there’s that. He lived in forts, churches, and even a small barn for some parts of his life until deciding to buy himself a fucking hilltop palace where you can live together. Because lavish castles are, ultimately, what appeals to Hoseok the most, and there is definitely enough space for all of your interests ... and sex toys. Anyway. How did all of that begin. So: The two of you met at a medieval exhibit in Perth where they displayed armors and pieces of weaving. Fell for each other, bonded over a kaleidoscope of shared interests, history knowledge in particular. Hoseok enjoys conversations about mythology, he loves that. And binging a lot of shows on Netflix. Gotta bridge the old and the new. Not that he doesn’t own a giant home theatre with perfect sound system. Maybe he just wants to cuddle up with you in bed and sob when another character dies together so the entire castle staff will hear. No worries though, they’re used to it.

Netflix aside: Aristocracy makes him feel at home. The sunshine regularly hosts interspecies balls with flamboyant masquerade themes so everyone can show up how they’re comfortable. That concerns particularly the slightly introverted elves and shapeshifters from downtown. The last huge ball went under the motto ‘The Glamor of Old Hollywood’ and you dressed up as Rita Hayworth and Fred Astaire, dancing all night and plundering the buffet. Hell of a good time. National holidays are holy to vampire Hoseok and basically equal date night. Given his high sex drive, there can’t be enough special occasions either way. To ride his thighs, his face, mark each other down forever until the pants are a little too tight at the damn front. The guy gets shaky knees at the smallest sight of a delicious pulsing vein no matter his century-long chance to accustom himself with human necks, so you agreed to go by a schedule — #SuckingSaturdays only — and you wear thick scarves. Which fits the moody UK weather anyways. The Scots really dig Hoseok in case you’ve been wondering. You can bet Hoseok is the star of Scottish twitter. 

⌈ Namjoon ⌋ ➝ Mountain Vampire. 3008 years old. Nepal, Kenya, Peru. You tease him about wearing a long, strangely-always-white cloak and staff because it gives him the semblance of a beardless twen Gandalf. He smokes a pipe, too, but not in your presence anyways. Whatever is in there... seems to elevate him. Literally. Namjoon can levitate. There’s no other way he could use in order to visit you in the first place. A beautiful, abandoned pagoda seated on top of a snowy crest is his makeshift home, inaccessible to everyone but him. Only a secluded place like this is suitable for his ancient kind. To meet you in a warmer and more human-friendly environment, he will elegantly descend from his premises to get together with you in the town located at the base of the mountain. As many nights as possible. Always with a self-made present. Like freshly assembled tea leaves or a little talisman he carved from a piece of wood. Found on one of his long evening walks. He knows what eternity feels like best, that your life is but a glimpse compared to his, so every moment will count. He’ll make it right, no worries. It’s Kim Namjoon, taking care of things. You can always rely on him.

On all levels, he never ceases to surprise. Vampire Joon has surpassed the principles of ingestion, sleep, and a sense of temperature. Hell, even finances. He simply breathes and exists — and most importantly: reads for hours — without any external efforts. Even the Middle Ages didn’t leave a single wrinkle on his face. And he is still the best experienced person to share a bed with. No sexual technique is foreign to him, and post-sex spooning conversations are immensely entertaining. Namjoon has a lot of philosophical thoughts on human-vampire relations and met countless historical figures. He’s also befriended the Yeti at one point, resulting in quite a few hilarious narrations that he will retell on request every time you meet. And he makes them funnier every night. Because Namjoon thinks your laugh is prettier than every sunrise and sunset he’s seen around the world combined, on his every voyage. The most interesting part is: He doesn’t drink any blood even if he has fairly sharp fangs that you often catch yourself staring at for minutes. He still seems more invested in making you cum. With sweet words, brainteasers, and wisdoms spoken into your ears quietly. He’s a walking riddle himself. As expected, who are we kidding. Namjoon, no matter the fleeting centuries he has seen, is a gem and all yours for a lot of nights to come. 

◇ castle: Château de la Mothe-Chandeniers (South-East France, 13th century)

[witchyaqua]

planets in the 1st house

DOMAIN OF THE 1ST HOUSE:

The self; ego, identity, consciousness

Your name, title, and any other unique words you (and others) use to identify you

Your physical body and outward appearance

People’s first impression of you when they meet you face-to-face

Mannerisms, facial expressions, hand gestures, body language

Appearance as self-expression: the styles and trends you want to dress yourself up in

SUN IN THE 1H:This is an exceptionally powerful placement for your Sun. Anything placed in the 1st House is expressed at its fullest capacity with absolutely no censorship. For you, this means that you cannot shelter your ego from being impacted by others, and you also cannot stop expressing yourself in the realest, rawest way possible. When you are young or immature, people will see you as obnoxious, egotistical, self-absorbed, and self-important. But others will be drawn to your warmth, generosity, optimism, and creativity. Whether good or bad, you impact the people around you in a noticeable way, and are bound to be popular because of your large personality.One way you impact others is through your own personal aesthetic. You have the glamour and the sex appeal of the golden god himself - beautiful hair, a shining smile, muscle tone, a warmth to the colour of your skin, and a taste for bold, sexy, creative style choices that draw all eyes to you. It makes sense that you put a lot of care into your appearance, since it is an enormous source of pride for you. Of course, you aren't immune to bad body days, where insecurity gets the best of you. But the important thing is to focus on what you can change, and what you love about your body, no matter how you might feel day-to-day.

MOON IN THE 1H:Those with this placement are often given rounded features and softness about their face and body. Your look gives an impression of being warm and caring, a fact that is aided by a quiet disposition and telling eyes. You prefer soft, stretchy fabrics in soft colours, and like to feel "bundled up", like you were wearing a blanket. In many ways, you appear young and child-like, perhaps even baby-faced. This planet is closely tied to the maternal feminine, and many astrologers link the Moon to your impression and experience of your mother. When reading your Moon sign’s description, you may find you can relate a lot about what is said of your own emotions to what your mother is like. And in turn, you have become a lot like your mother in this way (whether you choose to acknowledge this or not).It is an understatement to declare yourself as an “emotional person”. You are moody, compassionate, intuitive, and very sensitive to your surroundings. Being so thin-skinned, all of your feelings exposed on the surface, you are permeable in the way that everything penetrates you, no matter how hard you try to erect barriers between yourself and the outside world. You feel enormous empathy for other people, especially animals and small children, and can't help but pick up on all the subtle energies in the air around you. Faced with other people who are upset, stressed out, angry, or on the verge of a nervous breakdown, you feel like the waters of your heart are crashing back and forth in your chest. In quiet isolation, at home or with family, you feel your waters are still, your inner seas calm. In a frenzied crowd, you feel overwhelmed, and run away to safety. And in the wild spaces outside our human cities, you feel at peace, as if the waves are gently lapping the shore.

MERCURY IN THE 1H:You are Mercury and everything it stands for. You flit from person to person, topic to topic, picking up information like a bee collecting pollen from a variety of colourful flowers. From everything, you take a little piece and make it a part of you, adapting to and mimicking all different kinds of people. Frequently, your life changes on a whim. Once you feel you’ve become stagnant, you suddenly change, travelling somewhere or picking up a new area of study. You are restless, inquisitive, insatiably curious. Your mind never turns off or slows down. Books, games, puzzles, studying, tinkering with things in your hand - you can’t sit still for the life of you!When being by yourself isn’t enough, you like to go out and mingle in big groups and talk to people. You need your mental abilities to be challenged, sharpened by wit and forged in the fires of intellectual discourse. This is why you have the potential to become such a prolific public speaker, writer, singer, journalist, or teacher. Your way with words is unparalleled by all but a few. But an obstacle stands in the way of you connecting with a wider audience: there is no filter between your head and your mouth. You say whatever comes to mind, no matter how offensive or insensitive it may sound. This can create tension between you and other people, who become irritated at your rude and audacious behaviour. Others, who are thicker-skinned, find it funny, and revel in the fact that they can say whatever they want around you. A little bit of edgy controversy can get you some attention, but you do not want to be popular for being vulgar and mean!

VENUS IN THE 1H:But despite this placement giving you enormous sex appeal, this is not an especially harmonious placement for Venus. When you take Venusian ideas into your personal identity and merge with the goddess, the value you place upon yourself depends on what other people think of you. Your worth and self esteem are not determined by your own level of self-respect, as it should be. You go out of your way to be as likeable as you can be. You may be a goody-two-shoes, always being sweet and good and impressive. Or you may become a seducer, flaunting your body for attention and adoration. You are gentle, reception to their emotions, compassionate, cooperative, and eager to make another person’s life more beautiful. Yet people call you weak, lazy, indulgent, pleasure-seeking, shallow, and vain. You spend too much time and money pleasing yourself and not enough on improving yourself. As long as your self-esteem depend on the opinions other people have about you,their perceptions of you will cut to the bone, and you will never feel satisfied with yourself.And honestly, there is so much to love about you. For all the hang-ups Venus has in the 1st House, there is no denying the charm and the beauty she gives you too. There is a reason for your reputation as a heart-breaker, a heart-throb, an idol, or a sex symbol. That certain something you have that draws people in and keeps them there is caught by everyone you meet. You move enticingly, like there is a coiled spring inside of you ready to twist little people around your pinky fingers. You enjoy the attention and find it flattering, allowing them to covet you even when you have no intention of making their dreams come true. Aside from that, you also impress with your artistic talents in art, writing, music, design, and acting, all of which come easily to you. And don’t forget your social etiquette – refined, elegant, but not without good humour, people find you as enchanting to be around as fireflies in the night.

MARS IN THE 1H:Possible conflicts aside, this is a very good placement for Mars. Through this energy you are able to exert your will and get what you want without shame or embarrassment holding you back. This placement shows itself very early on in life, as you were the type of baby that kicked and cried until you were free to stretch and move around. You showed an early desire to walk, to climb, to get into things and explore; bravery showed too, as you charged forward into new adventures and never looked back to mom and dad. You got hurt a lot, a trait that can be seen all the way into adulthood. Scars (especially on the face), bruises, broken bones, and trips to the hospital, all a result of you moving too fast, knocking things down, falling over, and your general accident-prone nature. You were one of many children that needed to be put into sports or some other kind of physical activity. Without a structured outlet, your boundless energy becomes destructive.As an adult, you still share many of the same charismatic features as your younger self. You still have that same strong identity, the same desire to impose your will upon others, the same outspoken (borderline inconsiderate) way of expressing yourself. Truth be told, you do not fare well with sensitive people; they find you to be  cruel, offensive, and too overwhelming to be around for very long. If you are wondering why people have such strong, predominantly negative, reactions to you, that would be why! You do better with other masculine people who do not need their friends or lovers to be so gentle. You are hilarious, entertaining, confident, sexy, and you possess enough strength of character to get past the hate doled out to you on a regular basis. Perhaps you are not always the most sensitive, nurturing type of person (if you are at all) but you possess other likeable qualities that draw others to you.

JUPITER IN THE 1H:Exaggerated stories, exaggerated speech, exaggerated movements – all makes you comical, dramatic, and fun to watch! This is what makes you so very popular, lucky, and successful in life. People like you, even when you stick in your foot in your mouth and say things that offend them. For you are totally honest (even brutally honest at times), even when that means telling people things they do not want to hear, and are not about to quiet your opinions on anything. You are totally yourself. You love yourself, and you aren’t about to deny yourself anything. Pleasure-seeking with a big appetite for live, you indulge in hedonistic pleasures all the time. Good food, drinks, shopping, parties, games, entertainment, seeing friends, having fun, school, and travelling make up the list of things you like to do. But be careful. Money slips through your fingers when you spend it unwisely!You are not simply a student of knowledge, who seeks to fill one’s head up with information. You are a student of philosophy and spirituality, who pours over pages of history, culture, politics, language, and the nature of mankind in order to become wiser to the ways of the world. There are big questions that need to be answered. As a teacher, you open your pupil’s minds to all the possibilities hosted here, inviting them to explore topics freely and unrestrained. In the position, however, you are victim to an inflated sense of self-importance and the false belief that you have more wisdom to offer than you actually do. Still, your confidence in yourself inspires confidence in others too – which is part of the reason why you fulfill the role of entertainer, too. Being as dramatic and funny as you are, you were born to perform!

SATURN IN THE 1H: Saturn here usually indicates a long and difficult birth, as if the child is not ready to come out and meet the world yet. Even in the very beginning of your life, you met new experiences with apprehension, unwilling to make any sudden changes to your established routine. Fear seems to run your whole life in this way, making you hesitate and procrastinate and dwell on things long after you should have acted. You are not made for frivolity. You plan out big goals that take you years to accomplish and then work very hard to make sure they are realized in the end. You are a figure of strength, stability, safety, and security; a reliable person one can trust to always be there and to be the same no matter what. But you are also frigid, strict, controlling, and unforgiving, totally devoid of sentiment when you are setting out to accomplish something. You are as stubborn as a bull, as solid as a rock, as enduring and as patient as a mountain, and as persistent as the waters which slowly erode them into valleys below. Responsibility and duty become your two most admirable qualities. Coupled with your intense work ethic and goal-setting nature, long-term success is bound to find its way to you. Even your appearance takes on the qualities of Saturn. An air of chilly superficiality tends to hang around you, adding to the unfriendliness that people pick up on. To some you look mean, cold, calculating. But the expression you wear on your face is there to mask your insecurities and put up an emotional wall between you and other people. Your clothing is apt to cover your body, as you are modest and do not like to show much skin. You are attracted to traditional, classier cuts and darker colours which lend a sense of timelessness to your style. One might get the impression that you are hiding your body, and they would be right. Saturn can make your body feel unattractive or uncomfortable to live in, as you focus on your flaws and what needs to be “worked on”. You are able to discipline your body with a strict diet and exercise regime. You may even be able to lose some of the weight you seem to retain no matter what. But you will always have the impression of being heavier, sturdier, and stronger than you actually are.

URANUS IN THE 1H: Your influence on the world is nothing short of revolutionary, as you characterize disruptive change and innovative individualism. You seek to discover the truths of this world that lay in science and reason. And yet you also ascribe to eccentric beliefs, unusual interests, and strange hobbies in your personal life. You feel entitled to determining your own truth for yourself and possess a highly independent way of viewing the world. When it comes to hard science you are in agreement with the experts. But on topics of spirituality, religion, politics, culture, and world issues, you can be quite controversial in your views. At times, you can be quite inconsiderate of other people’s beliefs and opinions, stubborn in your own, and intent on getting your way at all costs. For this reason (among others) you do better in leadership roles or working by yourself. You need an enormous amount of freedom to express yourself, and often you would prefer just to work alone. You may identify more readily with alternative styles, outcasts, weirdos, subcultures on the outskirts of your own. You may even start you own trends from the outside in. Kurt Cobain, who had this placement, became the face of the Grunge Rock movement of the 1980/90's, and John Lennon became a figure of war-hating, peace-loving, drug-using counterculture in the 1960/70's.

NEPTUNE IN THE 1H: You are a creative, imaginative, and talented artist in your chosen medium. You are a highly spiritual person who possesses uncanny psychic powers, heightened by a lack of emotional boundaries between you, other people, and the divine. You reflect their qualities like a mirror and absorb their energies like a sponge. Perhaps it is because your mother refused to let go of you that you feel so guilty about separating yourself from other people. Or perhaps when you were growing up, your life was so unstable you never developed a secure sense of self. You are so easily affected by other people that their emotions can be overwhelming to the point of madness for you. But instead of erecting walls between yourself and others, you simply look for methods of escaping from your current negative feelings. This is why you are so prone to drug use, alcoholism, and getting lost in your own imagination. You should not feel as though you have to sacrifice yourself and your own happiness for the sake of making other people comfortable. And yet, you do it all the time.

PLUTO IN THE 1H:Pluto in the 1st House makes you look intimidating and unapproachable. You are a figure of power, like royalty, and you gaze upon the world as a ruler does. Some people are hopelessly drawn to the energies you emanate, and some are too scared of you to dare approach. What is true is that you have a deeply profound, highly emotional effect on the people around you, whether you realize it or not. People around you pick up on the intense emotional energy you radiate, as well as the sultry, sexual magnetism exuding out of every pore. Your fashion sense is likely to switch between being sexually appealing and conservative, as you likewise sway between wanting to be an object of desire and being ruthlessly self-protective.Pluto in the 1st House is given to children who needed to protect themselves when they were younger. Some astrologers claim that this indicates that your birth into this world was difficult or life-threatening for you and your mother, beginning life itself with strong birth-and-death themes. Throughout your life, you have learned to be self-sufficient, to support yourself, not to trust anyone (even the people you love), and to observe people for clues as to their hidden motivations. In extreme cases, this could mean a childhood of abuse, betrayal, crisis, traumas, painful separations, destruction, emotional turmoil, and other difficult experiences. This has lead you to become a person obsessed with gaining power over yourself and your relationships, making you very controlling, obsessive, vindictive, and paranoid regarding whatever is “yours”. Depression and anxiety, as well as anger issues and violent fantasies, plague you. But these are all a part of who you are. You are not above using sex or emotional manipulation to get what you want. You are ruthless, dark, and dangerous, and as much of a threat to others as you are to yourself. You can unravel people’s lives from the inside in and force them to burn and be reborn – and you can do so destructively, through pain and anger, or you can transform them through love and acceptance.

-all the information i found is from canaryquillastrology.com