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filthforfriends · 1 year

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Glass Houses

Read parts 1 - 4 of DILFiano on my Masterlist

CW: Morally grey age gap and power dynamics.

Word count: 4.9k

Three hours: barely a respectable amount of time to party hop with your friends before asking to go home. It’s not like you didn’t have a good excuse: they wanted to drive over an hour to some bougie party in the hills. Icarus liked to use her dad's name to get into events every now and then, just for the thrill of it. Most of you were leaving for college on Monday anyway. This was one last hoorah.

“I just feel super nauseous.” The statement was an excellent way to get home because no one wanted you in their car.

“You better not puke, or I swear to god…” Icarus threatened

“It’s just nerves about the move. I’m struggling to remember why I wanted to attend college on the other side of the country.”

“You had like two sips of punch, anyways,” slurs Elliot.

“Fuck you,” playfully shout towards the backseat. “Someone needs to take care of your ass when you have alcohol poisoning!”

“Hey, I’m on your side!” protests Moxy.

“Oh, I’m sorry, love!” You blow kisses in her direction, both tacky and affectionate.

“Is it okay to just drop you off at mine? Or do you need me to take you home?” Your heart jumps at the prospect of spending time in the David’s home. Pretending you were on this little adventure for Icarus was morally exhausting. It’s not that you didn’t care about your friend, but because the globe had shifted its axis. Your world now revolves around Damia. Ingesting various substances, dancing until you broke a heel, and stumbling back to your car at dawn was totally ineffectual in comparison to him.

“You can drop me at yours, I don’t want to deal with getting my car tomorrow morning. Ugh! I’m just fucking tired for some reason.” You were wide awake and so impatient you couldn’t even disguise it. Luckily everyone’s attention was on Google Maps.

“Just crash at mine like we were going to do anyway,” Icarus offers. “And we’ll be home…” She looks back at Elliot, who’s scanning the directions on his phone.

“It’s an hour and 23 minutes away,” he supplies.

“Okay we’ll probably just sleep there then.”

“Sick! I’ve always wanted to spend the night in the hills!” Moxy is excited to cross something off her stereotypically L.A. bucket list. You try to be happy with her, but internally you’re counting the trees as they pass. While your physical form is trying to plaster a smile on her face in the passenger seat of Icarus’ G-Wagon, your mind is already at the David’s house. Biding your time on the ride was unbearable. You wanted to crawl out of your skin or just feel the dry desert air on your face as the wind rushed by.

The sound of the tires changed as Icarus turned from asphalt, to her smoothly paved driveway. You wanted to jump out of the car and sprint while the SUV rolled forward.

“Wait, what is the turn off again?” She whipped around, coordinating with Elliot.

“Uh, shit, let me check. I screen shot the directions in case my battery gets low.”

“You can just charge it.”

“I forgot my phone charger,” he groans, and Moxy rolls her eyes.

“I literally texted you –”

“Okay, okay!” He holds up his hands defensively. Elliot had smoked too much random weed at the second party and was jumpy as a result. It was a risky move, just taking whatever was offered with no questions. Sometimes you’d be fine and others you’d want to rip your eyebrows off.

“Are you playing nice back there?” Icarus called.

“Can I get out?” Keeping the urgency out of your voice was impossible.

“Huh, what?”

“The car is still moving,” you snap.

“Oh shit,” she puts it in park. A good person would make sure Icarus was absolutely fine to drive. A good person would make sure all their dumbass friends ended the night safely. A good person would put aside their own personal needs for the sake of others, but that had been your entire life. Tonight you weren’t going to be a good person, you were going to seduce your friend’s dad.

Hopping out of the car, you exchange various expletive ridden farewells. The wave of relief at watching your friends drive off was like fully exhaling for the first time tonight. How freeing it was to be in the company of someone you didn’t have to take care of.

Damia had the house to himself, now. Alexander stayed at his mothers apartment so his older sister could have a going away party. You wanted to know how exactly Damia came to chaperone. Did he volunteer? Were you on his mind every waking moment too?

After your meeting a week and a half ago, Damia hadn’t called or texted. You waited in rapture for the first four days, then gave up hope. A grown man isn’t going to chase after you like a teenage boy would. You’d have to earn that reverence. Holding it against him wouldn’t be fair, anyways. Chiara would probably use your relationship against Damia in court, trying to win sole custody of Alexander. She seemed like the type to play dirty, and with a heart as pure as Damia’s, that was reprehensible.

The house was dark, so you kicked your shoes off on the welcome mat instead of the tile, that way your arrival didn’t echo through the silent house. It felt early to you, but the kitchen clock read 12:07am. He must be asleep. You go to the trouble of depositing your belongings in Icarus’ room for appearances sake, before tip-toeing to the otherside of the house. Damia’s bedroom door didn't squeak when you opened it, the whole home was well-oiled and in perfect working order.

However, you could sense that Chiara’s presence here was waning. All of Damiano’s eclectic art she’d managed to arrange in an orderly fashion stood on its own. No longer balanced between a neutral-toned painting and a perfectly proportionate end table, the heavy colors of a disfigured facade leered at you from across the hall. Up until today, you’d thought the bust was of a humanoid face. Now it was so clearly a mask, crazed eyes boring through wind-warped wood from the other side of some secret.

Another painting had been moved from Damia’s office to the living room. The piece was both gory and abstract, radiating deviant energy. There were no mangled figures, but the blood red paint had been applied to look like straining muscular ligature. In fact, all the paintings that had newly achieved pride of place were disconcerting, which you realized, was the point. In an effort to find himself, Damia must first be uncomfortable in the world around him. He was too beloved for anyone to do that to Damiano except himself.

Walking into his bedroom, you found the space above the headboard surprisingly baren. At 15 years old, you'd snuck a peek during a dinner party. There was nothing remarkable about it. The David’s had an under-stated European style. Given how Damia had centered his sexual charisma as a musician, you’d expected plenty of nude imagery ranging from sensual to erotic. Hell, maybe even attachments for restraints on the bed. However none of this was true, and you’d shut the door, fearful of getting caught. All you could recall was the absence of things, but had no memory of what the master bedroom looked like.

In a room lit only by artificial light sleeping through the window, it was hard to decisively observe anything. After closing the door, you became distracted by the books. First and second editions of Maya Angelou, Willian Carlos Williams, Walt Whitman, Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, Allen Ginsberg, and others whose names you didn’t recognize. There's a sensuality in your fingers running down every spine, as if caressing their drug addled ramblings.

Of course your eyes then fall to Damia. No one is more angelic when they slumber or more evocative of sin when they wake. The dark washes us clean. Maybe you and Damia could stay up all night together.

“Hey,” you whisper. He doesn’t stir and after a moment you're glad you haven’t woken him up. He lays on his side and you lift the covers, scooting in behind him. It wasn’t an unfamiliar position. You always rose first at sleepovers, even in elementary school. The boredom of waiting was hellish, but not now. Nothing could hold your attention more completely than the even rise and fall of Damiano’s ribcage as he breathed peacefully. In such close proximity, you could see he was shirtless and propped yourself up on one hand to admire him. The muscles of his pecs were relaxed as were his biceps. All this beautiful body resting easily, folded in on itself.

You lay back down before the urge to run your hands on his warm, freckled skin becomes overwhelming. Testing the limits, heart racing, you put the pad of a single finger on Damiano’s back and hold your breath. As far as you can tell he’s still sleeping. You scoot closer so certain places are just barely brushing against his body: knee, forehead, stomach, the back of your left hand. You imagine Damiano had invited you into bed with him, that you’d fallen asleep together like this, maybe after a night of love making. You press your lips to his spine, then can’t bring yourself to pull away.

Damia startles and flips over suddenly. The glass house you’ve built in your mind is shattered.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!” he heaves, hand to his chest. The mortification sets in. This wasn’t the slow, sensual wake up call you’d be hoping for, with kisses and gentle touches. Of course it wasn’t, because you were an 18 year old girl and a near stranger in his bed.

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Damiano reaches over you for his phone and for a moment he’s held above you so intimately it makes your cunt throb. After a few taps his sighs and lays back on his bed, disposition changed.

“I take it Icarus is with her phone?”

“Yeah, of course! I wouldn’t – fucks sake I wouldn’t do this if there was any risk of be found.” It's then that the reason for Damiano startling occurs to you. “Oh shit, you thought I was Chiara for a sec.” You sit up, weight resting on your hip and left hand. Looking down at him felt so casual, a snapshot into a fantasy life.

“No, no. We haven't shared a bed in almost a year. This bed,” he pats the mattress on either side of him, “is brand new. I’d like to sell the house, but…it’s not the priority right now.”

“Alexander.” Damiano was trying to give some consistency to his son. He nods and puts his arm behind his head. His tattoos stretch across his skin. The claw of a sprawling dragon pierces the head of a sphinx because Damia hadn’t coordinated between tattoo artists. He says he prefers it this way.

“You’re a good father.” Damia snorts and you realize immediately why that might not have been the best comment.

“Oh am I?” God he’s gorgeous. His happy trail is dense because Damia’s body hair spans his lower stomach. It also partially conceals the coiled serpent on his sternum, and reaches across his pecs. You’d never slept with a man who had adult body hair. It must tickle. Everywhere.

“You could move to a different room? That should be a manageable amount of change.”

“The guest bedroom is right next to the kitchen, though,” he wrinkles his nose. Moving Icarus’ bedroom likely wasn’t on the table either.

“What about an add-on to the studio? Expand the bathroom, add a bedroom, and make all the Swedish producers sleep in here?”

“You know, that’s actually not a bad idea.”

“Sleep in the guest bedroom when Alexander has friends over.”

“So I can hear all the nefarious activities happening in my house,” he chuckles, nodding. “You're full of good ideas.” He extends a hand to your knee, face thoughtful. “You know what the issue here is though? You’re better at these conversations than my peers.” His words are the sweetest, most delicious, most unbearable torture.

“Damia, you can trust my discretion.”

“I trust you as much as I can possibly trust an 18 year old, since I’ve been one.” You don’t like this answer and he can see it. “Where is Icarus tonight?”

“Getting drunk an hour and a half away in the Hollywood Hills and spending the night. Probably will be too hung over to get home before 4pm.” Damia is bargaining with himself and visibly gives in.

“You can’t spend the night in my bed, but we can cuddle for a bit.” Is cuddling what he called tucking Icarus into bed? Or did he say something else like snuggle? Is cuddling what he called his caresses with Chiara? Which role are you: daughter or wife? You are neither.

“Also please don’t tell my daughter that I have a tracker on her phone. It’s for her own safety, but –”

“I understand.”

“Of course you do. This’ll be our secret too.” There was no earthly thrill like keeping a secret with Damia, because it created an intimacy that couldn’t be denied. Even if neither of you named it, that tether was made stronger. You wanted thousands of secrets with him, to drown in all the promises you made and kept like your life’s purpose.

You scoot closer, putting off the moment where this touch could feel parental rather than romantic. It was far worse: contrived. As you lay down on his chest, Damiano’s smell was everywhere: his bedsheets, his pillows, his skin. It was the perfect encapsulation of his sex appeal: mature, masculine, refined. His arm wrapped around your back, fingertips dragging up and down your side. The sensation made every hair stand on end and you shivered. Damia chuckled which broke the awkwardness.

Feeling a little shy now, you turn your face against his skin and get a whiff of body odor. For some reason you want to hide how hard your nipples are, like there was any point in decency now. The hand strewn across his chest comes alive, holding onto Damia’s ribcage. The deep breaths aren’t really enough. Some part of you wants to bite into the muscle of his pec to feel it in your mouth, dig our fingernails into his skin and drag him across the bed. Consume him whole. It’s so carnal that you don’t recognize yourself.

“Pheromones. The smell thing it's…you’ll grow out of it, I think.” Having your mind read by Damia evokes that forbidden, cherished memory under a vibrant sky. For the first time ever, you weren’t thinking of the kiss already. Damia falters in stroking your arm, eyes turned to the ceiling in thought as well.

“Then why is it so hard for you to hold back?” The outer corners of his eyes crinkle as Damia lets out a short laugh. He shakes his head, not at you, but at himself. He should have known you’d be capricious.

“You call this holding back? Hmm.” Damia brings you closer and presses his face to your scalp, breathing in deep. Mothers say the heads of their newborns smell sweet when making the same gesture. If not sweetness, then how did you smell to him?

“I’d say we’re doing a terrible job,” Damia whispers. Upon being released, you finally feel confident enough to give into the craving that nags you, throbs between your legs. Nuzzling his arm out of the way, you press your face into his exposed armpit.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize for your depravity, then take deep gasping breaths of Damia’s body odor. “Sorry,” you mewl, trying to scoot closer. His hair tickles your nose, lips, and cheeks. Damia lifts his arm, permitting easier access. You pet his armpit hair with trembling fingers and your knees bump his flank. Testing the limits, you open your legs and try to nudge his thigh in between. Only when he abides, do you realize why you want Damia positioned that way, why you want his thigh wedged as high up as you could get it.

“I’m sorry.” He shushes you soothingly.

“Sweetheart, stop apologizing.” You stick the tip of your tongue into the hollow of his armpit and taste the salty skin, then lick upwards. Thankfully, he’s not ticklish, but your rapid breaths against his wet skin makes Damia shiver.

“I want you so bad,” you whimper. “And if you’d just – I’d be happy just to give you a blowjob or handy or anything. If you wanted I’d eat you out. God, I’d lick you clean after a run. I don’t even need you to touch me, because just knowing that I got to touch you…I’d be so thankful and I’d never ask for anything again. I’d take it to my grave, I promise.” This had devolved from propositioning into pathetic begging, but you really were that desperate. Damia looks pained when you want him aroused.

“Sweetheart, if this situation were different –”

“But it’s not. This is the situation.” There's a flicker, a candle fighting the wind. Deep down, a fraction of a fraction of Damiano is considering it. Maybe pity wasn’t the way to go. He was so confident, he probably was attracted to confidence in return.

“Sorry that was rabid, um...” You have to instigate because Damia can’t. But push a little too far, he’d shut down completely and ask you to leave out of guilt. You commit to a course of action, rolling over to the side of the bed and peeling off your tights. Damia’s eyes go wide in alarm. Instead of taking the rest off too, you kneel in front of him, wearing just panties and a skirt.

“I want you to feel how wet you make me.”

“We can’t –”

“And I’m not asking you to do anything! I just want you to feel, just once. You don’t have to get me off, but I want you to know.” There's that flicker, no longer just one candle fighting the wind.

“This is a horrible idea,” Damiano responds, propping himself up on an elbow. “I can’t believe I’m…” He extends his hand and you shift position, parting your legs to make room. You pull his wrist under the skirt and his fingertips bump right above the waistline of your panties. Before you can control the reaction, everything tenses in excitement, pussy pleading for you to give it something to squeeze down on.

Damia’s gaze is knowing, but he doesn't break the asphyxiating sexual tension with a witty remark. He’s not going to invalidate this moment for either of you. Trying to read into that, you lower his hand a centimeter to your panties. Damia’s short fingernails catch on the elastic, but his eyes never leave your face. Rather than blush and turn away, you stare right back, pushing his fingertips past the waistband.

Of his own volition, Damia slides his hand between your legs. His mouth falls agape, because you’re so wet he has to focus on not accidently slipping inside.

“Tesorina, I –” he touches you at a loss for words. Damia sighs in admiration at how warm and silky your pussy feels. Out of habit, he goes to apply pressure just outside your vulva with his pinky and pointer, while his middle and ring finger play with your pussy. He has to stop himself. You almost wish Damia was wearing a wedding ring so your body’s lubrication could loosen it.

“You feel lovely,” he purrs, pulling his hand back. You close your legs around his touch, clutching it between your thighs. It fits there so perfectly that you can’t help but rock against his palm. Both hands wrap around his wrist. A shameless part of you uses the grip to work back and forth against him.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, but mm please – don’t –” Damia wedges his upturned hand firmly against your vulva. “Oh my god,” you mewl, careening forward. You get fistfuls of the quilt and cry out, pelvis naturally finding a rhythm to rock against Damia’s hand.

“Ah mm, I’m sorry.”

“Shh, stop apologizing,” he insists in a whisper. Damia isn’t even concealing the relief in his expression at you making this decision on his behalf. Testing the boundaries, you sit back on your heels and give Damia’s hand your weight. He applies firm upward pressure to counteract and your source of friction ends up being even more snug against your pussy.

“Fucking, fuck. Thank you,” you moan, grinding your clit against the heel of his hand.

“Right now, it's okay to listen to your body, tesorina.” Experimentally, Damia’s finger slides into the divot of your vaginal opening. He strokes your hymen in circular motions. Without using any pressure, Damia allows just the tip of his middle finger to slip inside. A car drives by and the headlights momentarily illuminate half of Dami’s face. You can’t tell if it's the half he shows the world, or the half he’s failing to hide from you.

Captivated but conflicted, Damia drags the arousal up to your clit, middle finger dipping out of your hymen. Immediately you're grieving the lack of intrusion with a whine. Upon reaching the crest of your labia, he brushes back and forth in progressively smaller strokes. Damia uses a massaging motion around and on your clit. Rather than blindly picking a spot to rub, he allows the messy slickness of your pre-cum to inform his movements.

At first you're in awe of his presion while so deep in thought. Until you realize that subconsciously, your hips were shifting to bring his touch to the best spot. Under all that focus, he was listening to your body’s minute signals. When Damia does find your clit, he puts it directly under his thumb and your hips buck violently.

“Are you sure?” Something changes in the way he’s positioned. One of his fingers is extended and you falter as he presses it inside. It’s all you can do to nod. Head hung, your expression is corrugated by pleasure. He curls the digit against your g-spot and now your hands are pushing the blanket away, back arching, mouth falling open as your moan.

“Hey, look at me,” Damia prompts “Are you really, really sure?” It’s absurd for him to expect an answer while he finally pleasures you. Maybe this isn’t an overwhelming amount of stimulation for some women, but you’re on the verge of full body trembles. Damia holds your clitorous between his fingers internally and externally and stays consistent, titrating the pressure up and down, trying to find that sweet spot for you. One hand tightens its grip on Damiano’s wrist as insurance. The other is planted in front of you, bringing your face closer to his.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yes.” Your intrepid confidence issues a scorching challenge. If this interaction ceases out of someone’s fear, it wasn’t mine. Because I am sure. You hold eye contact, gaze completely level. Equal. No longer a little girl in need of a replacement father figure. Damia returns your gaze, alarmed at your power, but also something like impressed. His pupils flit down to your lips. Eyes. Lips. Ridiculing himself. Lips, again.

“If you have the slightest doubt, tell me.” There's a sinking sensation in your stomach, not out of regret, but out of the knowledge of how wrong this was. It just made the whole thing more enticing; a door into the world of depravity that you coveted. People expected you’d spend your life as a righteous woman. Instead you wore a lacy thong under your skirt to seduce your best friend’s father when she was driving on the 405 tipsy.

“If holding on to me feels good, that's fine, but I won’t pull away if you let go. I’m not cruel.” Damiano visibly makes the same kind of enduring moral concession. During which, his hand had stilled in the last few moments, but you didn’t have the decency to stop using it as a source of stimulation. It was an inexcusably filthy thing to do, hump Damia’s hand with so much vigor it made you sweat. It was fucked up. While Damia couldn’t bring himself to verbally encourage it, his eyes begged you not to stop.

It was the briefest glimpse into the version of himself that Damia chained to the back of his mind, because it was a danger to his own reputation. A version of himself that sought out rules so his unquenchable rage had something to pulverize. That version of Damiano was allowed to fixate on the girl who fell to her knees in public and begged to blow him. He was allowed to accept the offer, and drag her back to the backseat of a car and have her ride his thigh. Both over and under the trousers, depending on which she liked better.

“I know you’re desperate just from touching yourself, because sex toys are still embarrassing at your age. I could probably just buy you one, but…” he clicks his tongue at an intrusive thought and shuts his eyes. Jaw set, Damia carefully gets himself under control, but can’t stop the hand against your thigh from shaking.

“I know you’re desperate because you’re so turned on that I can feel your heartbeat.” His fingers slowly curl towards your belly button as his thumb draws a straight line up your vulva. A breath gets caught in your chest, the pressure underneath your sternum threatening to become a scream.

“Please, please, ” you babble, mouth falling open when he finds your clit again. With the plentiful pre-cum, Damia runs his fingers back down your pussy and inside. The reentrance makes a squelching sound from all the wetness and you cringe hard, eyes closed in embarrassment.

“Shh, tesorina. Did you know most people have to use lube to get this wet? Hmm?” You had so much to learn. Why couldn’t he teach you? Damia’s fingering feels amazing, the slightest bit of delicious strain. You realize that he’d been using two. It’s more than you’d attempt so soon, but totally painless. Of course, Damia would know your body better than even you.

“How's that?”

“I didn’t think that I could take...but it feels mm.” You shift your hips side to side, exploring new sensations.

“Of course you can,” he coos. Just as it had reflexively a minute ago, your body bears down out of a desperate craving for internal stimulation. This time you get to squeeze down on two thick fingers and that relief brings you to your forearms.

“Damia, oh my god,” you moan. At this point, you’re just breathing in your own hair where it falls around your face. Damia uses his spare hand to pull it from your mouth and tuck it behind your ear. Somehow, it's the most intimate thing he’s done today.

“Do you want to try three?” No one had ever asked you that. It was counterintuitive to the goal of staying tight. It felt like you could take three. Maybe you’d really enjoy it, even if that was wrong. The stretch of two was deeply satiating.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay if the answer is yes.” He sets his hand on your thigh and rubs up and down slowly.

“Yes,” you blurt, scooting your legs apart to create room. Damia works the third one inside much differently than the second. He starts with his pinky, just pushing the tip past your hymen. That’s easy after a couple passes, so he switches to using the pointer as the third finger. You’re frozen in anticipation for something you’d never allowed yourself to be interested in. When he pushes three inside you adjust your pelvis without thinking about it.

“See how you spread your legs to open your hips? It's totally intuitive. Never let anyone ignore your desires.” Listening attentively, you manage to integrate all three fingers to the last knuckle. It takes a little force from Damia, which just makes the whole thing hotter. The flat of your hand slams against the mattress in stimulation. A whine turns into a throaty moan that wasn’t supposed to escape.

“Mm, see? No one teaches women how good having your pussy stretched feels.” You’re nodding in agreement even though Damia hasn’t asked a question. He thrusts his fingers in and out at a relaxed pace. At some point during this exchange, Damia went from laying under to kneeling on top of the comforter to be closer. The hand stroking your flank was equal parts sexual and reassuring.

“I could fit four fingers if I wanted too, hm? I could fit my whole hand, even. Would you like my whole hand inside you, tesorina?” You think about it, nod, and turn bright red. Even too embarrassed to meet Damia’s eyes, you can feel his smile. He’s thrilled at your honesty in this moment of self-discovery.

“Now I bet you didn’t know that about yourself until I asked. Here's the secret: most women love the way this feels. A woman, when she’s aroused, relaxed, and really wet because someone’s been patient with her, can fit more than just a cock. She can fit a cock and a finger, a cock and a toy. Never let anyone shame you for what it takes to feel full. It's your pleasure.”

Notes: No, that is not the end of the scene, however it is the end of my patience. My blog has been broken for months and it hasn't been fixed. For one, I can't tag people, hence the lack of taglist. PLEASE submit a help to Tumblr on my behalf. Yes, I know you're not supposed to, but I've resorted to annoying them into action. I'll post the rest once people can actually see my writing.

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stephaniebrownslover · 1 month

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TicciWork Romantic Relationship In My Main AU-Part I

This was asked by a friend of mine. It's actually really similar to the long 15 part list I've tried to do but gave up on it.

Thanks for the request, my lovely friend!!

I splitted into two parts because it was becoming long and I thought no one would want to read that.

Sorry if it's rushed.

Their first meeting

Toby had a very troubled school life. It was hardly possible to say that the high school freshman was also better than the junior high. Because of his tics, he was constantly subjected to bullying and humiliation by other children.

Natalie had a terrible school and home life. She hated both of them and wanted to run away. They made fun of her at school because of her appearance and the girl who told about her old gossips in middle school, they really made her life unbearable.

Toby ascended to a tree in the schoolyard to hide from being the bullies' target at lunch break one day. He hoped not to stand out without making a noise and to spend his recess calmly with this was.

But when he saw Natalie stealing a cup of coffee from the canteen and then leaning her back against a tree to catch her breath, his audible tics kicked in from the excitement of being caught.

And when he saw Natalie, who turned her head up and looked at him curiously, he got so excited that his body shook quite a lot and he lost his balance. Although he tried to hold on to the tree with all his strength, he fell to the ground again because of a sudden tick, his body shook and all in all, he was a terrible tree climber.

Natalie didn't know what to do. Although the boy in front of him did not fall to the ground from too high, she thought that somewhere on his body was broken and it must hurt a lot. She put her coffee on the floor to help him and held out her hand for him to get up.

Toby apologized in a rather embarrassed way after getting back on his feet with Natalie's help. Natalie, on the other hand, did not care about his embarrassed attitude, she just asked him if he had always been such an awful climber.

When she saw that Toby, who did not answer her question because he was surprised, she paused, and sighed deeply. She told him that she would teach him how to climb a tree properly because of the respect she felt for him for not crying like a baby when he fell.

Toby was literally in a state of shock. In fact, both of them both knew and did not know each other. Of course everyone at school knew about the rumors "Slut Natalie" and "Ticci Toby", but they had never met face-to-face.

Natalie was then one hundred percent sure that Toby would forget about her or hesitate to call, so she immediately took a pen out of her backpack and wrote her number in Toby's hand. She told him to call whenever he wanted, and if he didn't call, she would come herself and force him to climb a tree.

And Natalie put a sarcastic but actually sincere smile on her lips as she left a confused Toby behind.

Before Toby became a proxy

After the training meeting they had together, they went out for something to eat. And after some chatting, they realized that they were having fun with each other's company, so they decided to meet again sometime, which they did.

Each of the countless meetings they went on was more fun than each other. They went to interesting places, sometimes they even got lost. Once, at Toby's request, they entered a maze, and Natalie, angry that they got lost, tried to tear down the walls made of artificial leafs. As a result, they were forbidden to enter the labyrinth.

In general, Toby was constantly making fun of Natalie, and Natalie was either telling him to shut up or responding to his teasing. And Toby was content with just being a more annoying person. But none of these jokes were the kind of things that could seriously hurt, it was more like classic teasing of teenagers.

Since their homes were close to each other, when they had no plan to follow, they would walk together after school. Although they were together almost every moment, they were never bored, even moments when there was only silence were peaceful.

Toby introduced Natalie to his mother at the end of the first grade, taking the opportunity of his father being away. But unfortunately, it was the day before he switched to home-schooling. He did not know yet that he would drop the casual high school.

When he and his mother talked, he was constantly talking about Natalie, and Connie was eager to meet a friend who was so good to her son.

The first time he saw Natalie on her doorstep, she and Toby were laughing, and his mother couldn't help but give her a big hug. Natalie did not respond to the hug because she was quite surprised, she did not expect such closeness.

Natalie was literally devastated when she received the news that Toby had switched to home-schooling. She got angry at him and told him that he had left her. Toby, on the other hand, calmly held her hands and told her that he cared too much to leave her. In fact, he even told her that he liked her.

Toby's first girlfriend was Natalie. Except for Natalie's boyfriend Chris in middle school, her first boyfriend was Toby.

They spent that summer as two idiot lovers. At the beginning of the summer break, they made a long list of things to do and tried to accomplish everything on that list. After a full day, their favorite thing to do for both of them was to watch the car cinema from the roof of a building. Everything was going too perfect to be true.

And it could not continue as nice as this.

Toby had started seeing Natalie less and less since he switched to home-schooling, but he wasn't the only one to blame for this. Natalie's grades had taken a turn for the worse and she was banned from going out most of the time.

As they couldn't see each other, their lives were getting worse and worse. Eventually, they stopped seeing each other completely, although not willingly or intentionally. It was more like getting caught up in the brutal intensity of everyday life and not knowing what to say when you see the other one after a long time.

Natalie didn't care much when she found out later that a nearby house had burned down and no one had survived except the mother of the house.

When she found out at school that this house belonged to a boy named "Ticci Toby", her world stopped turning.

After Toby became a proxy

Natalie, who thought crying was just a weakness, cried a lot that day without anyone to comfort her. There was no one to tell her that everything would be fine, the only person who was with her was Toby, who was already dead, and he was the cause of the tears.

She was so angry with Toby that she refused to visit his grave for a while. Because visiting his grave would mean things were real, Natalie didn't want that. Natalie just wanted to keep thinking that Toby was still alive, but only they weren't seeing each other.

However, she couldn't take it anymore. What she did was nothing but great disrespect to Toby. When she pulled herself together, she ran away from school one day and went to visit him.

Toby's mother was also there, and when she saw her son's only friend, she hugged her again. This time, unlike the first, it was a mother's hug who was in deep pain.

Eventually, Natalie had to move on because of her increasingly abusive life and her family.

But she never forgot Toby.

Toby, on the other hand, has forgotten everything about her.

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #clockwork #creepy #creepypasta clockwork #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby creepypasta #ticciwork #ticciwork headcanons

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confessionsofa-roleplayer · 4 months

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Communication in the RPC is so fickle. Hypocrites everywhere tbh and it's a shame that you were one of them. When you suddenly removed me from all contact, discord and Tumblr without a word despite being real friendly a few days prior, I have to admit I was surprised and a little taken aback by it. Not a single word, no conversation, no nothing about what could have caused it or why but I can take a gaze. I'm pretty sure I did 0 of the things you mentioned that would warrant a soft or hard block in your rules list but oh well. I'm not one who can say for sure because you didn't say a thing. Maybe it's better that way. While you're not obligated to tell me everything, it definitely sent a message to me. All your talk about communication and working things out and checking in of something really bothered you lol and how you're an adult on these matters. I know how you treated a friend of mine, I know how you did this to another mutuals too despite her being very clear about what was going on in her life on dash. While I'm all for unfollowing if you feel like things aren't working because of lacking engagement, comfort and so on-- you were a hypocrite. You ask for communication and offer none yourself, this told me all I need to know about you and that most of your talk about communication was pretty much bullshit. Unfortunate, I was fond of you as a friend despite how spotty and slow I've been through the years. If you expected me to come to you via Tumblr IMs and ask you why you did any of that? You immediately messed that right up by unadding me without a single word. Like I said, it told me everything I need to know. It's a surefire way to make sure I never reach out to you again and if that was your intent, good work. If not, that's in you. Only you can fix it now so I'll level this in your play field-- you come to me if you want change, I want chase you in part to respect your clear intent, but also because you're the one who walked off. You can walk back on your own. I'm not interested in power plays, and that sort of thing always struck me that way. Maybe I feel that way because of terrible past experiences with deranged mutuals who would pull that stunt and it developed into a toxic harassment shit storm aimed at me. I believe you're at least better than that, but who knows for sure. What I can't stand is someone who, rp partner or friend, talks so much about communication and wanting to make sure things work or that we part on an okay note, only to be an outright hypocrite about it and ghost without a word. After nearly two years of associating with you in the RPC, I now know that you were kind of two faced on this, and that your own rules don't really apply to you despite what you said. You make sure they're applied to everyone else, and act like you have to play no part in crossing this two-way street. If I hurt you or pissed you off; certainly can't help you now. If you wanted something that I lacked the ability to provide for some time because I've been struggling to be around, do anything on this cesssite where I too have been let down and burnt out-- I'm sorry at least on that. make of that what you will, you've already made your choice.

#communication #confessions

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hauntedwitch04 · 2 years

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The pumking king

🎃Halloween party🎃

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Words: about 1.8k words

Warning: none, just pure and lovely fluff with our sweety Steve, with a very protective Dusty-bun with his sister, a bit angsty

Author’s note: 6th and finally we arrived to one of my favourite prompts. This is a little bit longer than the one before, hope you like this!

✒️: "You know, honey, as much as it costs me to admit it, your pumpkin is much more beautiful than mine." "Of course, I am the queen of pumpkins."

Requests are open I Ask I My masterlist I Join the Taglist

Ever since you were little, you and Dustin have always loved the Halloween season because that meant only two things: treats and ... the best pumpkin contest.

Your mother on October 31 always held this little competition between you, for the best carved pumpkin, where the winner would choose the movie to watch that night. And no matter that you have grown up, the tradition has been upheld and for now you are leading the winning list, although Dustin complains that you are only because you are older than him and therefore have been able to get more experience. This year is different, however, because for the first time Steve, your boyfriend and no less than your brother's best friend, will be participating with you in your little contest. Everything is now ready, the pumpkins are on the table and the knives are by their side with their respective bowls and candles, the only thing missing are Dustin and your boyfriend, who had gone to get candy. Finally you hear a car in the driveway, and a little later the door swings open.

"We're home!" Your little brother shouts, running into the kitchen and positioning himself in front of his pumpkin. A few days earlier you had gone to pick it at one of the nearby fields, and you had brought them home. Dustin had literally locked his in the coat closet, since no one but him could touch the "winning pumpkin."

"You took forever!" You say a little impatiently as you watch your boyfriend walk through the kitchen door with several bags in hand, following Dustin.

"Sorry love, but I thought not even that many people lived in Hawkings, believe me. It was full of people." He replies as he walks up to you, and wraps an arm around your waist before leaving a kiss on your lips to say hi You hear a mock retch of vomit coming from your brother, and you can't help but laugh.

"I have already asked you to stop being lovey-dovey in front of me. I will not repeat myself again Harrington. Next time your punishment will be never to see my sister again." Dustin says menacingly, pointing his finger at him, while you can't help but laugh.

"I thought you loved Steve, don't you always say he's your best friend?" you ask curiously, as you take a seat next to him in front of your pumpkin patch and watch your boyfriend sort out the things he bought, while you couldn't help but think how cool he was doing that small, everyday gesture.

"Sure, Steve is my best friend, but when he decided to get together with my sister he also became enemy number one. Well no come on maybe number two, number one is the Upside Down." Explains the little boy.

"Wow, I'm honored to play for the top spot with that hell, I'm touched by your high opinion of me Dusty-bun." Countered Steve wryly.

"You better shut up Harrington. I know things about you that you wouldn't like to let people know." He says, always making the threatening look, which looks more like an angry hamster, which is always super cute, though.

"If you're talking about hairspray, by now I think everyone knows and that's because of you." The older boy complains as he sits down next to you. You are now in the midst of their current argument, which grows second by second in intensity.

"I'm not talking about that I'm talking about something else like...scratching or cuddling." Dustin continues by making quotation marks with his fingers and a disgusted face as Steve pales. You barely hold back your laughter.

"How do you know that? Who told you that? Don't even try to think about it, I have a reputation to maintain!" He shouts, putting his hands in his hair.

"I have my sources." Your vague brother replies as he laughs.

"Robin! That bitch, I knew the friendship between you two could only end badly for me!"

"You should stop using her as a psychologist, at least Y/N/N confesses everything to her but she does it as a friend, not as a patient." At this sentence from your brother you can't contain yourself and burst out laughing.

"If I catch you, I'll put my hands on you." Steve says to your brother, trying to get up. You stop him with an arm and glare at him. He seeing your eyes immediately freezes.

"Now it's time to end this ridiculous skit. Dustin stop making fun of Steve, and you Steve stop being a baby. We have to carve pumpkins now." You say in a firm voice, and immediately the boys listen to you. "After all, I must or must not be crowned the pumpkin queen again." You continue.

"Empty gourds, at best." Your brother answers.

"Don't insult your sister." Steve counters

"God, you yell at me like a married couple with children." Dustin whispers, then continues. "Then Steve, do you still think you have a reputation after you hang around with a bunch of fifteen-year-old kids when you're twenty-two?"

"Emh emh." You cough as you look at him. He rolls his eyes and picks up the pocket knife he had laid down earlier.

"Yes, yes the pumpkins, I understand."

So you begin your challenge, and the hours run fast on the clock, so much so that it's evening by the time you're done. Steve looks around and sees that by comparison his is really the ugliest of them all.

"You know, honey, as much as it costs me to admit it, your pumpkin is much more beautiful than mine." He says with a defeated air, but at the same time with a smile.

"Of course, I am the queen of pumpkins." You answer in an obvious manner, smiling as you look at your handiwork. You turn to look at him and see him with a dejected look on his face. A 'wave of compassion invades you as you watch him and you immediately look for words of comfort.

"Although I think yours is a thousand times better than mine really, I hadn't stopped to look at it properly before. It's really good work for a beginner honey." You try to say, but he smiles at you with his eyes still sad.

"There's no need to lie, I know it's bad. It's not the first time I've sucked at something." He responds by touching your face with one hand, stroking it, before excusing himself because he has to go to the bathroom.

Another punch in the stomach raises your guilt and anger at the same time. His parents have always made him feel like a nobody, incapable of doing anything, and now this is the result: he thinks he is incapable of doing anything and that everything he deserves, given the magnificent person he is, he doesn't really deserve. Immediately you get an idea and turn to your brother unaware of the conversation you and Steve were having since he was running out of his noggin. You pull him by the sleeve and he turns away angrily.

"You make me wrong! What do you want, I'm almost done!"

"We have to let Steve win." You whisper and he looks at you as if you have committed the greatest betrayal in history.

"No! What are you thinking!"

"Shut up! He mustn't hear us." You shout in a whisper before briefly telling him about the conversation between you and your boyfriend just before and your thoughts. Immediately he too becomes more serious as he looks at his friend's noggin and finally nods in defeat.

" All right, but I have a better idea." He says taking the knife back in his hand as he moves in front of Steve's noggin. "But you'll have to help me out." He continues by handing you your knife.

In a few minutes you make slight changes that markedly improve Steve's noggin. You step abruptly away, hearing the bathroom door open and close as footsteps come toward you. When he enters the room the boy knows perfectly well that you two are hiding something, since you both have Henderson's face, as he calls it, which is the worst poker face he has ever seen.

"I really think you won." You say with a smile on your lips as you point to the pumpkins that are now facing him. Steve can't help but notice that yours are now totally ruined, yours has a big hole in the front, while Dustin's is destroyed from the top.

"What happened to yours?" Says your boyfriend incredulously, as he looks at his pumpkin, which looks much more finished to him than before.

"I tripped and accidentally dropped Dusty's pumpkin, and he out of spite destroyed mine, but that's not important. You won!" You say, hugging him as I kiss his cheek. "You made a wonderful pumpkin, I'm proud of you!" You finish, before letting him go.

"Yeah man you did really good." Dustin continues by clapping a hand on his shoulder.

A light of pride lights up in Steve's eyes as he thanks us. After collecting all the treats, we sit on the couch not far away and decide to watch a movie. Once we get it started, immediately we are already laughing at the lack of believability of the monsters in the movie. A half hour into the movie Dustin is already asleep on a back of the couch, while you and Steve are snuggled under the blanket. I am distracted by the movie and do not notice that Steve's gaze is on his pumpkin, now resting on the kitchen counter, with a lit candle inside.

"I know you let me win on purpose." He says shifting his gaze to you. "You didn't have to, I know how much it means to you and Dustin."

"You deserve it, I only gave you a little help, and as I said before I'm proud of you." You retort, forgetting about the film.

"I still don't understand how you got Dustin into all this."

"Big sister tricks." You say and he bursts out laughing.

"How did I deserve you?"

"Every pumpkin queen needs a pumpkin king. And in case it's the other way around, I'm the one who doesn't know how I deserve such a sweet, caring, kind and extremely attractive guy like you."

"As you said every king needs a smart, funny and selfless queen by his side." He replies before giving you a kiss.

"I am glad that you are my king."

"And I that you be my queen."

Little bonus (I wanted to end it fluffy, but I think that the bonus it’s the real end)

"I love you guys, and the scene is very cute, but I swear I'm getting diabetes." Exclaims Dustin still half asleep.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader

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writergirl3 · 1 year

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A Message For Insecure 4 Townies, From 4 Town...

Okay, so, I wanted to try something different here. I was inspired by none other than the amazing @4townlove and their letter-style head canons. I want to give them full credit for the inspiration of this, and please go and read their work (although I'm sure you already have).

Also, you can change the dialogue at the beginning, if you want. I just wanted to keep it general so that the messages made more sense.

Also, I gave up on adding an image for each member because I've basically run out, lol.

So, this one's for any 4 Townies who are feeling insecure. I've been there a lot, and if you have too, I hope you like this ⭐️🧡

---

(B/M/N): Band Member's Name

B/M/N: "Y/N…what’s wrong?"

You: "Nothing…I just feel ugly and annoying and…not good enough."

Robaire;

“Mon amour, will you hear me out for a second?

It’s normal to feel insecure. There’s something strange about the human brain; it doesn’t seem to register all the wonderful things that others see in us. Sometimes I feel unsure of myself, and you always remind me of positive things, right?

Well, ma belle rose, now it’s my turn. I could list hundreds of reasons why you certainly aren’t ‘ugly’, ‘annoying’ or ‘not good enough’. But, instead, I want to tell you what I see.

Every day spent with you leaves me wanting for nothing, because when I’m with you, I have everything I’ve ever wanted. Your smile can brighten even the cloudiest of skies. When you reach for my hand, I feel like it was crafted to fit in mine. You don’t even need to do anything to make my life better, that’s how special you are.

I know it might take some time for you to come round and believe me. And if you’re still having a hard time seeing yourself as I do, I’ll reassure you until you do, ma cherie.”

Jesse;

“Y/N, I know it’s hard, but you mustn’t say those things about yourself, okay? Not just because they’re far from true, but because it’s not good for you. For your soul, your confidence, your heart. You’re so kind to everyone around you, and it’s important to spare a little bit of that for yourself.

Y’know, it’s easy to believe that no one else feels insecure or doubtful of themselves, but that, also, isn’t true. When I joined 4 Town, I worried and worried about being older than the other guys. I didn’t want to feel like a spare part, like I was making up the numbers.

But you know what? They helped me see how being different made us stronger as a group. Sure, they poke fun a little at me sometimes, but it’s all good. I know they don’t mean it, because they helped me see how my differences can shine in their own light.

I hope you see what I’m saying here. None of the things you’ve said about yourself are true. Any little insecurities that you have actually make you all the more special. And I love you for them.”

Aaron T;

“WHAT?!?!

Okay, okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry for shouting, baby, I’m not mad at you. Not one bit! I just…I just don’t understand?

What do I mean, you ask? Well, just that. I don’t see how someone so perfect could see themselves as the opposite. Hell, you’re too perfect sometimes- that’s the only thing I could accuse you of.

What is it that you don’t like? That laugh that I could listen to on loop? Your heaven-sent smile? And your eyes? Man, I always find myself looking at them.

And all this about being annoying and not good enough? Just look around you. You have so many people in your life who love and respect you, and you know I’m one of ‘em.

And so what if some people in life think you’re not ‘good enough’? What is good enough? You’re so much more than that to me. You’re perfect, and that will never change.”

Aaron Z;

“Sweetheart…I…just, please listen to me for a sec, okay?

I don’t know what or who made you question yourself, your worth. If it’s me, I’ll never forgive myself for that, because you make my world better just by being in it. In fact, you are my world.

Was it someone else? One of the boys? No? Okay, I see. You’ve got into your own head a little. That’s okay, it happens to me too sometimes. But let me say just one thing.

You know I’m not great with…words, and stuff, so I’ll keep this simple. I love you. In fact, I’m in love with you. All those little things that you see as ‘bad’ are anything but. They’re what made me fall for you in the first place, and I’ve still yet to land.

You know what? I’m gonna write you a list of everything I love about you, okay? Kinda like a letter. But until I’ve finished it, just know that I never want you to change. Maybe I’ve not done a good enough job at showing you that, but I mean it. I love you so much.”

Tae Young;

“Dove, what are you saying? Those are such horrible words and could never reflect how I see you.

What do I see? Well, I see a wonderful person. A kind soul who is unique in their own right. You know what words I would use instead of the ones you chose? Passionate. Caring. Loyal. Gorgeous. Sweet.

There are so many others, but just being with you now is making me go sorta blank. Not because I can’t think of anything! It’s just, seeing your eyes all teary and those little red flushes on your cheeks; it makes me flustered and heartbroken at the same time.

Next time you feel like this, come straight to me, okay? I’ll hold you until you feel right, and find a way to help you see yourself with love. All those bad words you think about yourself? You can bet that I have a replacement for each and every one, love.”

---

Musing Meaninglessly Masterlist

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jils-things · 4 months

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❨♡❩ valentine's week ; familial day

familials have been such an important factor in my time as a selfshipper recently because i truly came to appreciate what is familial love. it's just that really nice feeling of pride and appreciation for someone you really care about. i'm excited to say that i have a lot in my roster to share! reading isn't mandatory for anyone viewing - writing my feelings help me articulate my words well.

first and probably my most important one yet is ruby stone! at first, I wasn't really interested in the whole "he's my son concept" but i just knew that ruby was an instant favorite of mine after reading the manga. it's funny, because i actually did kin him at one point (i mean, i can still say i kin him but because i'm a selfshipper first, manga consumer second. i see him as my son more). i see myself a lot in him especially in his flaws. but because a friend told me it would be fun if i had called him a familial, it wouldn't be so bad (and steven is also there. wouldn't it be a cute family?). i initially drafted jaide stone and ruby to just be friends but ruby has a special attachment to her (due to his personal issues with his father) but that shit changed FAST and thus, ruby stone was born. i adore my silly boy, he makes me so happy and i admire his character. he's different from the other protagonists and it makes him stand out all the more. I'm so proud of him, his whole story made me so emotional and i just want to hug him and let him know everything's okay and he has every right to be who he wants.

am i allowed to talk about my husband? i mean he IS ruby's father so,,, heheh. ill keep it short or else it becomes a romantic love letter to my hunni sorry 😚 anyways i always imagined steven to want to have kids and ruby was the best thing he ever asked for. he's so proud of him too. they went through a rough patch as a father and son but things gotten better and they're very happy to call each other family. 💚

ahh, my favorite silly stinky little brother. gold! this one's got a long history. i was always a big fan of ethan/gold as a protagonist in the games. but i had no idea that this version ethan (or as the manga calls him, gold.) was simply the best for me. he's got this special spark that really checks off my list of what makes a character my favorite! just like ruby, i also see myself a lot in him. (heck, even my sister thinks i'm super gold-coded) he was so shaped to be my best friend or little brother, and i picked the latter. he's probably the most comedic, and has a very deep emotional side that i like to philosophize about. po.kespe kids are written with much difficulty and he's no exception. if i had a brother, i feel like this is how i would treat him.

okay this one's gonna be SUPER confusing which i'll apologize over and over again i'm so sorry 😭😭 for this one, i'd like go introduce blake and nate (respectively). these two are completely different from each other, but i still have this maternal/big sister care for both of them. just like gold - nate is one of my favorite protagonists by game and learning their personalities in both manga and game (pkmn masters ex) made me adore them even more. i think ilynne (oc) is the first girl who has more priority over familial and platonics than romantics. i think that's very cool! it's hard to say everything here why i love both versions but if you took a look for yourself, maybe you'll understand hehe. (also, nate just has the BEST protagonist design. hello? who wouldn't love him? definitely not me!!!!) it was only because of pkmn masters ex that made me like nate a lot. his voicelines makes me feel so comforted like that's just a really happy boy! he sounds so excited for everything and his giggles just cleanse my soul 😭 i could pat his head all day. silly pineapple boy. blake just... i dunno man. it's probably because i already liked his base design so naturally I'd like his manga ver too 😭 they pulled a wildcard in designing this kid like he's a fuckin agent!!! that's so cool!!! hes a fuckin hater!!! look at him go i can fix the edgy kid !!! by being his mom!!! (lore accurate btw)

ah yes. the most fanbase developed kid ever. it's carmine! this kid is so special. his entire existence came from a fan created f.n.f mod and everyone ran with it - just like me. i remember constantly keeping tabs with this mod and i was always curious to know what carmine has in his story - playing the mod itself was such a pleasant surprise. my whole attention was shifted to carmine's story - it's rewritten slightly to make the creepypasta more impactful and it certainly did make me feel sympathetic for the little guy. giving him the sweetest and admired big brother to love and care for him was the best design i ever thought of. after the devs added more story, it made me feel all the more protective of carmine. unfortunately he's not the most lively boy around as he's bullied for his insignificance. i would do anything to let him know he's loved. (AGGRESSIVELY FORGETS THE PART WHERE HE'S PAINFULLY POSSESSED BY THE FUCKIN GHOST BEGONE!!!!)

i think what also powered how much i love carmine was the endless support i got from the actual fans of the mod on twt. even the devs approved it and it made me feel so happy and reassured that it's okay to appreciate him (it was actually a little nerve-wracking to post rhys and carmine on twt because carmine is... technically an oc). that's why i describe carmine to be a special kind of fo. he's an oc of a mod and that's pretty neat

those are my main familials, but i'd also like to give a shoutout to my secondary familials!

when i tell you there's so many cool characters in this game I wasn't JOKING. these guys are so... AUGHH i feel like they would be the best guys to have around to make my day better. looker is more uncle shaped to me, he's not exactly the BEST caretaker (shh i know emma) but i know he's trying his best. it's hard to juggle being an agent and a friend but i understand that and i appreciate his efforts. playing platinum to see this guy appear, i just KNEW he's gonna be the coolest. and i wasnt wrong! he's associated with my oc ilynne along with blake! for po.kespe consumers, yes - they are all coworkers!

professor sy.camore is definitely a father figure to me. i love his enthusiasm and i know he's the best guy to cheer someone up. his cheerfulness is endless and he literally mentors 4 kids, if he can do that then surely he can make my day better (a miserable young adult /jjj) i really wanted to make a kalosian oc for him. i envisioned the oc to be an ex team flar.e member who wanted to renew herself from her past deeds (as she was foolish to not understand lysandre's grand plan) and sy.camore was there to rescue her from her crisis and helped her start somewhere by being a student under his care. they would develop a father-daughter dynamic and i think that's very sweet 🥺💚

in case you noticed. my main familials are a case of like ... me wanting to nurture them. but my secondaries are the other way around and it's like... what if i was the one being nurtured and cared for? pretty cool...

that's all for today. thank you familials 💚

#~ rambling #~ lovemail #ruby.fam #gold.fam #carmine.fam #i accidentallu posted it and im pretty sure its not even the right time in most timezones but ohh welll #nate.fam #blake.fam #looker.plat #sycamore.fam

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the-sappho-of-lesbos · 1 year

Note

Do you have any recs for fiction with a main cast of butch women? Doesn't necessarily have to be butch4butch in a romantic sense, but anything that depicts the human relationships between us. I feel like that's so rare, and it drives me crazy as someone who personally NEEDS other butch women in her life to feel sane and normal. I hate that most fiction treats us as male-adjacent stand-ins with femmes or as accessory side characters. I want to see us fleshed out for once.

I’m really sorry that there aren’t more stories easily accessible that have this kind of dynamic. I haven’t actually read all of these , so I can’t say if it really fits, but I’ll do my best to give you some recommendations! Hopefully you are able to find a couple in here ☺️ And definitely check the comments! There might be more suggestions there.

I went through my saved books and the ones I own to come up with this list.

I think older lesbian books in general would be a good starting ground! Especially from like 80s-early 2000s. While some of them might not necessarily use the word butch, they definitely have a lot more gnc women or just none feminine women in general.

- Leave A Light On For Me by Jean Swallows. I’m not too sure how many of the cast are butch, BUT, I do it it’s primarily about lesbian friendship.

- You’ve probably already heard of this one, but Dykes To Watch Out For is always a good one!

- A nonfiction rec would be : Tomboys Tales Of Dykes Derring-Do by Lynne Yamaguchi and Karen Barber.

- This book doesn’t delve into the relationship between butch lesbians, however, it does discuss in parts what you are talking about , from the perspective of a butch lesbian who lives on a farm, which is The Grass Widow by Nanci Little. It has a very beautiful seen between the two main characters discussing how she is still a woman.

- I didn’t know if this one really fit the mark, because I can’t actually remember if the other woman was butch or not (or considered more butch for the time ) but Stonehurst by Barbara Johnson has a section where a younger GNC lesbian gets sort of taken in by an older lesbian for safety and protection.

- I haven’t read it so I don’t know if she has relationships with other butch lesbians, but I do know she is a butch lesbian. Lilac Mines by Cheryl Klein.

- again I haven’t read this one, but given the time period and what it’s about I’m assuming the main character has friendship relations with the larger lesbian community: Shoulders by Georgia Cotrell.

- I started reading this one a while ago but sipped for some reason. I think I remember it being about a butch woman - but at the very least it’s about lesbian friendship: Working Parts by Lucy Jane Bledsoe.

- Untamed Desires : A Sydney Lesbian History by Rebecca Jennings. (I haven’t read this one either but I gave it a quick flick through right now and it seems like it could have what you are looking for)

- Missouri Vaun is a butch/gnc lesbian and all of her books have butch women in them. I can’t remember about their friendships much. But if you want a butch lesbian written from the perspective of one I would go with her!

- The Little Butch Book by Leslea Newman. A sweet little book fully dedicated to butch women!

- Rode Hard Put Away Wet has a butch x butch erotic short story in it. I would post it on here but I’m pretty sure tumblr would take it down right away.

I can’t really think of anymore right now. But I’ll reblog this again if anything comes up!

I’m sorry I wasn’t able to help more. And I’m sorry we are in a world that doesn’t provide you with the love, respect and fictional representation you deserve. I can only hope things get better and you are able to find many more wonderful butch lesbians in fiction 💕

Thank you for popping in! I hope you have a beautiful day ☺️💕💕

#asks #anon #answered

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i-fondued · 1 year

Text

Ghost | Sinners in Secret | Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen - The Confessional Ritual Incident Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Reader/Sister of Sin x Papa “Terzo” Emeritus III Rating: Explicit Warnings: Plot, smut, etc. See AO3 for full list of tags! A/N: I'm just gonna hide from y'all when you get to the end ehehe >D

As always, this chapter is has been reviewed by my beta, @lurancyvenom whom I love!

Full Chapter List - HERE AO3 Link - HERE

“Amore, you must eat something.”

“I’m fine, Copia.”

“Il Cardinale is right, Tesoro,” Terzo signed, sitting down next to me and leaning back in his chair to try and crack his back. “You have not eaten anything yet tonight, and you have a long night ahead of you, si?”

“I know, I know. I will, I swear.” I yawned before blushing at the soft look on both men’s faces. “Sorry…I’m just tired. It's been a long few days.”

Copia knelt down next to me again, putting his hand on my thigh on top of my skirts with a gentle smile. I placed mine on top of his while Terzo placed his on top of both of ours.

“Not long now, Amore,” Copia teased.

Sister Imperator came to our table, clearing her through with a tense smile.

“Ah, Sister. I was just looking for you,” she said cheerily, the look on her face instantly setting me on edge. “You’ve forgotten a member of the clergy to dance with…”

“I don’t think I did…” I paused, thinking back over the last several hours.

After my dance with Primo, I danced with Papa Nihil which was more like me supporting him, as good natured as he was. Then I danced with Saltarian, a few other Cardinals, and finally I’d been able to sit down now.

“You missed me, Sorella.”

I looked to the source of the voice and my eyes narrowed. Cardinal Veritas was dressed in the same red formal suit that he had worn the last formal event, form fitting and well tailored to his narrow but long frame. His hair was pulled back and away from his face into a black ribbon, the long silvery blond locks curling around and over his shoulder.

“I don’t believe I owe you a dance, Cardinal.” I couldn’t help but sneer at him, Imperator looking slightly taken aback by my change in attitude suddenly.

“Sister!” Imperator hissed at me, her eyes hard. “You will do as is your duty, and dance with Cardinal Veritas.”

“But Sister…” I started to come up with any and all excuses, but her hand held up and I knew better than to argue with her.

I glared daggers at the smug look on his face as he took my begrudgingly outstretched arm to escort me to the dance floor. My skirts swished against my legs as we walked, a slow but slightly sultry song striking up as he twirled me away from him before pulling me back in.

“How have you been, Sister?” Veritas’ voice was clipped but there was a look behind his eyes that made my heart pound and my spine tingle. “Enjoying your last few days before you ascend?”

“What are you playing at Veritas?” I hissed, glaring at him as he stepped closer in our embrace. I could see Copia and Terzo to the side of us, both staring so sharply at Veritas I was surprised he didn’t catch fire. “You haven’t said a thing to me in weeks, suddenly we are buddy buddy and you want to dance?”

“Can a man not pay his respects to the woman who will be at the highest level of our organization without motive?”

“Not considering you tried to kiss said woman the last time we were this close.”

“Ah, for that I apologize. Too much wine that night.” He smiled, a slithering and predatory kind, and I fought to keep my face neutral. “Though can you blame a man for trying?”

“Yes. Yes I can; I’m not interested Veritas, I think I’ve made myself clear enough.”

“Someone as enchanting as yourself should not have to stoop so low to end up with a mousy Cardinal and a Papa who sees himself above the Dark One himself,” Veritas chided, his eyes slightly hooded as he looked down at me. I shuddered, rage blossoming in my chest as he spoke.

I couldn’t help myself as I stepped closer to him, even he looked slightly taken aback at our bodies almost pressed against each other. Each breath caused my breasts to ghost against his chest and he looked smug before I spoke.

“Those two men over there are some of the kindest, most genuine, earnest souls I’ve ever met. If there is anything I’ve learned about you, Veritas; it is that you are neither kind, genuine, or earnest,” I purred, my voice ghosting over his ear causing the man to shiver. “I would rather throw myself from the highest tower than forsake my vows and leave either of them for anyone even remotely like you.”

“That could be arranged, Sister,” he chuckled after taking a moment to recover. “I’m sure my sister, Caterina, would appreciate the chance to rekindle her romance with Terzo after all these years…”

“How dare you…” I hissed, rage filling my chest again as I fought the urge to slap him.

“Ah, how does the saying go? All is fair in love and war?” he purred, dipping me into a low bow as the song started to come to a close. “Well, Sister. I’d say this counts as love and war, no?”

Before I could even formulate a response, the song came to a close. He bowed to me and kissed my knuckles before winking at me and sauntering away, leaving me gaping like a fish out of water on the dance floor.

…

“Incredible isn’t it?”

I turned to look to my left and saw Saltarian had come to stand next to me as I took in the massive tapestry on the back wall, the party behind me in full swing. I’d come over to the tapestry to see my own name embroidered in, my fingers brushing against the gold thread.

“It is very impressive,” I said softly, somewhat emotional thinking about the generations of women before me going through exactly what I was. “I can’t believe that it’s been kept up to date…”

“Painstakingly, and repaired over the years too, when we needed to make way for new bloodlines and off-shoots,” Saltarian chuckled, pointing to where my name had been added next to Terzo’s and another little line had been added for Copia to join us as well. They’d already added a little path for any children we had, and I blushed knowing they had prepared that ahead of my Prime Mover ceremony. “Several centuries of families are on here.”

My fingertips skimmed the line backwards, following from where my name was, passing over where Secondo and his empty slot for his Prime Mover sat, and stopped momentarily on the spot where Primo and his Prime Mover’s name had been stitched in years before me:

Prime Mover Francesca Emeritus Born 1945 - Died 1973

Beside her name was another small line, and stitched in a thin gold thread was another heartbreaking image:

Heir Emeritus {Baby Girl} Born 1973 - Died 1973

A single branch of a family was cut out too soon, my heart clenched even reading it. Their baby had passed before they had even gotten to name her. I had to move on before the tears that welled in my eyes for Primo’s lost love and child fell; my fingers passed over Papa Nihil who, despite having three sons, did not have a Prime Mover. Further and further back I went, until I found the last Prime Mover to take two lovers, the one responsible for the birth of the Emeritus line. I smiled faintly, feeling a kinship with a woman who lived and died centuries before I was even born.

I followed the clergy line, like I had all those weeks ago at my council meeting, watching the family grow and grow. Last names changed as I went on and I closed in on the more recent names. That was when I saw two names and my gasp caught the attention of Saltarian.

Cardinal Maximilliano Veritas Born 1972 - ~*~ Sister Caterina Veritas Born 1973 -

“Is something wrong, Sister?” Saltarian asked, and I shook my head, fearful my voice wouldn’t come out. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Y-Yes Sir,” I stammered, thinking back to the last conversation I’d had with Veritas prior to the one tonight. “If you don’t mind me asking, Sir. What is the rite of inheritance?”

“Where did you ever learn about that, Sister?” he laughed, but apparently something in my face made it clear I wasn’t joking. “Well it's a very, very old tradition. It involves calling into question the line of succession, or in some cases the line of inheritance when there is a place, thing, or even sometimes a bride. Calling for a rite of inheritance was all the rage after the middle ages since so many had died in the various church familial lines, nobody could make heads or tales of what belonged to whom after whole branches of families were wiped out.”

I’d stopped listening to him as he chatted about Medieval history, mentally wrapped up in the last few weeks and what Vertas had said. My heart was pounding in my chest as panic bloomed.

“P-Please excuse me, Saltarian. I need to speak with Papa,” I blurted, bowing my head in apology before starting back to my own table.

Swiss caught my arm before I could get more than a foot closer, tugging me to the side and stepped close to speak with me, his eyes filled with concern behind the silver of his mask.

“Hey Sunshine, what's going on? I felt you panic from the other side of the room.” Swiss kept his voice low as he looked around, as if someone was going to pop out and steal me away.

“It’s Veritas,” I blurted, my eyes darting around to see if I could see him in the room still. I couldn’t find him, and if anything it heightened my anxiety. “I…I don’t know how to explain it but I know that he’s up to something Swiss.”

The clock in the room chimed several times, it was 3 in the morning. Sister Imperator came over with a soft but sleepy smile, hand resting on my shoulder before she spoke.

“Come, Sister. We need to get you ready for your ritual, Secondo already left and you were supposed to be there for 3am.” Imperator turned to Swiss with a cocked eyebrow. “Will you please escort Sister to the chapel, Swiss ghoul?”

“Yes, Imperator Ma’am.” He bowed before taking my arm gently and leading us away. “You should have told her you know.”

“I know, I know. You know it's not exactly like she gave me much of a chance to speak,” I sighed as we walked down the long halls and headed in the direction of the chapel. “Let’s just get this over with....”

When we got to the chapel I smiled when I noticed the ghouls had already started setting up decorations and ceremony elements. There was a slight haze in the air of the room from the heavily fragrant incense they were burning, smoke swirling around in the super low light of the few candles that had been left lit.

I went off into a side suite where there was a simple set of junior sibling robes waiting for me. I wore a white linen dress that had a stiff high collar with long form fitting sleeves; over that I wore a black pinafore dress made in a heavy muslin. I exchanged my formal heels for black leather flats and black thigh high knit stockings, and quickly worked to pull my hair back into a braid before coming out of the suite. Swiss was still waiting for me, and he shook his head wryly and pointed at the ornately carved confessional booth behind him.

“Secondo is already in there, I heard him murmuring a little when you were getting dressed. You go, I’ll stand guard.”

“Thank you, Swiss. You’ve been my rock this whole week,” I smiled, reaching to squeeze his shoulder gently. He looked sheepish as he took my hand and gave it a gentle press of his lips to my knuckle.

“Anything for you, Master,” he teased before scampering away from me, I scoffed, but smiled as I slipped into the empty side of the booth.

“Good Evening, Papa,” I started as I knelt on the floor of the confessional. “It has been…well it's been several weeks since my last confession.”

I hear him make some sort of snort, my cheeks flushing as I remembered who my last confession was with and the conversation with Primo earlier that night.

“I have come before you to share my sins, to feel the sweet release of absolving myself of the contradictory notion of sin. As everything we do is because of the gift of free will from the ancient one.” I spoke clearly, trying to follow exactly what Secondo and I had gone over the last few weeks. “T-There is something weighing on me very heavily that I would like to discuss first.”

“Oh?” His voice was thick and pitched low, but I remembered how much wine he’d drunk earlier tonight, and I had a feeling he’d drank too much.

“I…I am concerned about Cardinal Veritas, Papa,” I blurted, feeling my heart racing as I settled back on my calves. The hazy smoke from the chapel swirling around in the booth, the thick cloying scent making me almost want to gag. I felt it settle deep in my lungs and it made me light headed, swaying slightly on my knees. “H-H-He mentioned the rite of inheritance in passing before. I’m worried he's going to try and hurt Terzo or Copia…or even me.”

I felt like I’d been slurring my words a little, taking a minute to mentally tally the drinks I’d had at dinner. My vision was going a little spotty as I tried to focus and look through the partition between Papa and I; eyes not quite strong enough to zero in on the vague shape of a man on the other side.

“Se-Secondo?” I stuttered as he stood on the other side coming closer to the grate, a sickening feeling deep in my gut as the shape on the other side became more defined and the colors they were wearing even more obvious.

“Unfortunately for you, Little Bird, I am not the Emeritus brother,” the man teased, coming to step out of his side and snatching my wrist to drag me to my feet.

“Le-let me go, Veritas!” I slurred, stumbling on my feet as I tried to get away. My panic thrummed through my veins as I gripped the edge of the wood to try and prevent him from pulling me anywhere. “P-Please let me go!”

“Ah, Sister. It’s too late to beg unfortunately. Things are in motion, you see,” he chuckled darkly, his light eyes flashing dangerously.

He pulled me up roughly, my arm socket aching sharply, and I cried out. Veritas’ grip loosened as I wobbled again, vision swirling as I looked around for someone, anyone, to come help. I managed to get my wrist out of his hands and yanked away from him, but I felt like I was moving through mud, legs growing weaker as I stumbled away. I tripped over my own feet and fell hard to my hands and knees, gasping for clean air but finding more of the cloying scent of the incense.

“S-Sunshine?” Swiss called out as I finally locked eyes with him. I reached out towards him, our fingertips brushing as he rushed forward to me but as quickly as he came to me he begun to fall down to the floor with me.

“Swiss..?” I mumbled, my vision fading fast. I looked behind him and watched Caterina as she walked towards us, a syringe in her hands and a vicious look on her face.

It was the last thing I saw before I too slipped under the effects of the sickly scent of the incense.

…

Tucked deep in the sleepy New England forest, hours away from any real city, was the massive and sprawling grounds of the home of the Satanic Church known as The Clergy. I’d been taken aback at the structure, a massive gothic church down a long sprawling road. I couldn’t see over the fairly high, slightly crumbling stone walls, but I could see there were several roofs of other buildings including a large Victorian style glass greenhouse. When I pulled up in my car, the gates had been left open and I felt the caress of something deep inside me. Calling me, coaxing me from my car to the front steps and I couldn’t stop myself from hesitantly tugging on the doorbell.

I heard the gong of the bells going off on the other side of the door and my heart had felt like it was going to explode as I waited for someone to answer. The door opened, and an older woman stepped out slightly, a closed look on her face.

“Yes? How can we help you?” Her voice was clipped, face leaving no room for any curiosity as I tried and failed to peek around her to see inside to see what had been calling out for me.

“I-I’m sorry to bother you, I…I just was passing by,” I stuttered, cheeks flushing as I spoke. “I was so impressed with the building all the way out here, I just…well I was curious to know what it was.”

That was probably the lamest excuse I could have come up with, and if the woman’s face was anything to go off of, she didn’t believe a word of it. She and I both knew there was no passing by, considering the Abbey was twenty minutes off the main road and down a long and winding unmarked road.

“We are a…religious organization,” she said stiffly. My eyes drifted to her collar where a rosary was draped around her neck. However instead of a crucifix, it was an upside down cross with a G in the middle, at least that's what I thought it looked like.

“Oh, is it…Catholic?” I asked, slightly confused at her hesitancy.

“We are assuredly not Catholic,” she chuckled, stepping back slightly and gesturing for me to come inside. “Would you like a tour?”

“Y-Yes! I’d love that, thank you so much!” I smiled brightly, stepping into the entryway and following her into the hall.

The foyer of the Abbey was made entirely of a light cream colored stone with a massive fireplace to the side; above which was an enormous painting of a strange looking man and I paused, eyes locked on the painting.

The man was dressed in robes similar to the priest I would see at the church I grew up attending, but they were all black, with green accents. Down the center, on top of a strip of what looked like lace, was a row of the upside down crosses from the woman’s rosary embroidered. He wore a miter on his head, again adorned with the upside down crosses, but his face perplexed me the most. It was painted to look like a skull, complete with what looked like teeth over his lips. What caught my eye was his mismatched gaze that seemed to be able to pierce right through me, a small shiver running down my spine.

Under this enormous painting was a plaque, I leaned closer to read what it said.

Papa Emeritus the Second Long May he Shepherd the Flock

“Miss, are you coming?”

The woman’s voice made me jump and I turned to her with a small guilty smile. “Ah, the painting caught your eye?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I’ve never seen anything quite like this…well at least not for a religion.” I took a few steps towards her before she gestured up at the painting.

“That is Papa Emeritus the Second, though most of us here call him Secondo.” She laughed before continuing. “He’s the leader of the Church, somewhat like the Pope is for Catholics if you will. I'd like to introduce you, but unfortunately he’s not here right now, he's touring with the Ghost Project.”

“Ghost Project?” I paused, eyebrow knitting together. I’d heard that before, where had I heard that before? “Isn’t that a band?”

“Yes, it is. Have you heard of them before?”

“Ah, no not really. I’d just seen something in the news, I think?” I couldn’t place where I’d heard about them before but I didn’t let myself get caught up in it and neither did the woman, who nodded sagely as she started to give me a real tour.

Sister Imperator, as she had introduced herself, was nothing but a wonderful tour guide as we wandered the halls of the Abbey. It was quiet today as the night before had been a Black Mass night, and many were still sleeping in since there was no class today. We passed many works of art and tapestries on the wall, all having a similar motif of the fall of Lucifer and the serpent tempting Eve with the apple. It didn’t dawn on me to ask a question about what exact religion they were until we entered the chapel and I saw the statue of Baphomet in the rectory.

“Uh…Sister?” I started awkwardly, a blush on my cheeks before she turned to see what I was looking at. “W-What religion did you say you were again...?”

“Ah, I think I may have glossed over that part, Dear,” she chuckled before her fingers curled around her rosary. “We're part of the Satanic Church.”

“Oh.”

“I hope you aren’t worried we are going to sacrifice you or kill a baby to steal your soul.” She crossed her arms and seemed to be evaluating me as I squirmed.

“N-No! I wouldn’t think that at all,” I blurted, turning back to the statue and looking at it again. “You’ve been nothing but lovely.”

Suddenly that pull, the insistent tugging behind my sternum was back and I felt my fingertips twitch. I gasped under my breath, eyes defocusing for a second as I let my vision drift slightly.

“Ah, Archbishop, what a nice surprise! I thought you’d be locked away in your rooms today.” Imperator seemed cheery to see the Archbishop. I turned to look at the newcomer, trying to not look like I was currently having heart palpitations. “This lovely lady here was just passing by, I thought I’d offer her a tour.”

The man was standing behind us looking just as shocked at seeing me as I was seeing him. He wore a black cassock with purplish pink buttons and matching piping around the edge of the cape, button placard, and cuffs. He also wore a matching colored skull cap on his head and a belt with tassels. On his hands he had leather gloves with rings, a metal cross on the backs of his hands. The Archbishop wore face paint, his top lip painted black and racoon-like black around his eyes. His hair was dark and pushed back from his face with matching sideburns. He also had a pencil mustache, making him look distinguished. His posture however made me think more of a rat than a man, slightly shy and hunched over. His eyes, like mine, seemed wild and didn’t quite want to focus on me. The Archbishop in fact seemed to refuse to look at my face, a small barely visible blush on his cheeks.

“Welcome, cara mia, to the Abbey.” He bowed his head in my direction and fidgeted with his hands. “I am Archbishop Copia.”

My heart felt like it was attempting to rip its way out of my chest as I introduced myself to him. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Archbishop,” I said with a small, shy smile.

“If you will excuse me ladies, I am needed to help Cardinal Emeritus with his sermons.” He gestured to the doors behind us that must lead to the chapel.

“Actually, I was just looking for him as well. I wanted to introduce him to our visitor as well.” Imperator smiled like a cat who’d just caught a mouse, and I watched the Archbishop swallow deeply.

He nodded and gestured for us to lead the way, and I couldn’t help the shiver that ran down my spine as I passed him. My eyes lingered on him and I managed to catch his eye, his mismatched gaze filled with swirling emotion that took my breath away. Our eyes locked and I felt the whole room evaporate for a moment. I went to speak to him, to break the tension between us, and instead nothing came out. A voice floated around my skull as I tried to speak.

Wake Up, Little Lamb…

…

I jumped slightly, eyes flying open and gasping for breath, and struggled against something holding my hands above my head. While I tried to shake off the fog, focusing on my surroundings I noticed the ropes binding my wrists above my head and my feet down on the stone altar under my body. I felt the panic bubbling up in my chest, a fluttering through my veins, as I looked around with wild, bleary eyes trying to focus. The room was too dark to see much of anything beyond where I was, however I gasped when I noticed a prone form strapped to a wooden X to my left.

“S-Swiss?!” I croaked, voice crackling as my throat was painfully dry. He didn’t move and my heart was thrumming wildly in my chest. “Swiss? Ca-Can you hear me?”

As my eyes got more used to the lack of light, I saw he was cuffed to the wood with metal cuffs around his wrists and one around his neck. I struggled against the rope around my wrists, the fibers cutting into my sink and leaving marks.

“I wouldn’t struggle too much, Sorella. I prefer my property to be unmarked.”

My head whipped to look down at my feet, eyes locking with Cardinal Veritas as he stepped from the shadows. My heartbeat was pounding in my temples as I fruitlessly struggled against my binds again, the blond man rolling his eyes with a dark chuckle. Twirling between his gloved fingertips was a knife, I let out a little gasp of fear and his face twinkled with a foreboding look. He came up to me, one hand letting go of the knife and dragging a fingertip against my side as he tsked under his breath.

“Such a shame,” He sighed, face full of mock regret. “I’m sure you would have looked radiant in your ritual. Alas I have bigger plans for you, Sister.”

“You don’t think they’ll notice I’m gone, Veritas?” I snapped, flinching away from his touch. “You don’t think everyone in the Monastery will be looking for me, hell for Swiss and I, when they realize we aren’t in the confessional or even in our room?”

“By the time they even put together you two are missing, I’ll be long gone from here.”

“And what? You think that Terzo and Copia will just let you leave after you do whatever it is you plan to do to me?” I laughed, a crazed sort of chuckle. “Whatever they would do to you would be a vacation in comparison to what Swiss will do when he wakes up.”

“What gave you the impression you’d still be around to see it my dear?” He purred, the tip of his knife grazing against my collarbones. “I’d rather not have to waste such a supple form but alas… if you won’t cooperate.”

“What do you want with me, Veritas?” My voice was strong even with the panic bubbling up in my throat. “What is all this about?”

“Come, Sister, you cannot be so naive surely?” He laughed, a pitying look on his face. “This is about revenge, this is about taking what is supposed to be mine by birth. This is about taking the one thing that they care about away from them.”

“But why? Why does it matter to you even now?”

“BECAUSE YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN MINE.” Veritas roared, fist slamming on the altar below me and making me jump. “The visions I had as an archbishop, I was to wed the prime mover. I was the one to ascend, I was to be Papa.”

“B-but you aren’t an Emerit-” I started before he cut me off, eyes blazing in fury as he came close to my face.

“You go far enough back in any of the clerical families and we all can trace back to the Emeritus family.” Veritas sneered, catching my jaws and forcing me to look in his eyes. “Some of us more directly than others.”

“What the hell does that have to do with me?”

“Because, dear Sister, you’re the first woman that has been able to enchant dear Alessandro for more than a month. He’s been a skirt chaser since I’ve met him and even my own sister couldn’t bring him to heel. I’d had hoped they would have been bound and she could have brought his downfall. Instead it was an upstart outsider who managed to cuff him.”

He sighed, straightening his cassock and walking towards Swiss. I struggled against the ropes again as he used the knife to slice at Swiss’ shirt buttons and opened the fabric to expose his smooth skin.

“You ask what this has to do with you, I fear you haven’t been paying enough attention my dear. This is entirely about you.” He chuckled as Swiss began to stir slightly. “You were meant to be mine, you were meant to rebind the houses of Veritas and Emeritus together again. All they talk about is how you were sent by Lucifer himself, to bring a new age of the Satanic Church, to bring together the Papal and Clergy seats and make them stronger. What they all seem to forget is dear Papa played favorites, he promoted that fucking rat bastard. He is the usurper, not I. No it should have been me, little bird, that you’d be bound too. Not Copia.”

My eyes were wide with fear as he ranted, waving the knife around before he turned back to Swiss.

“Veritas p-please! Leave him alone.” I begged, tears welling in my eyes as I panicked.

“Oh how lovely Sister, unfortunately for him I’m not willing to mar that beautiful skin of yours…” He cooed, eyes flashing dangerously as he adjusted his grip on the knife. “However after a little research on the bindings between ghouls and their masters I found a very interesting piece of knowledge. Not only are good feelings like pleasure and joy shared, but also anguish and pain…”

His smile took on a wild, feral sort of quality as he slowly dragged the knife from Swiss’ chest outwards towards his ribs. Swiss growling and groaning as he began to wake as the pain seeped into his subconscious.

“What are you ta-?” I started before crying out and arching off the altar.

I could feel every inch of the blade as he sliced a small cut into my ghoul’s flesh. I gasped, tears flowing freely now, and dug my nails into the palms of my hands to distract myself.

“Remarkable…” he muttered, coming over and cutting away at my habit dress as I tried to squirm away from him. He only stopped when he was able to see I was unmarked. “Your punishment, Little Bird, is your penance for all the trouble you have caused me since arriving.”

“Pl-please Veritas, just let me go.” I begged, wet eyes locking with his unfeeling ones.

“It's too late to beg your way out of this one, darling.” He laughed darkly, walking back over to Swiss who was actively trying to lash out at Veritas.

“I’m going to fucking rip you to shreds you bastard, absolutely fucking eviscerate you.” Swiss roared, hissing and flinching against the cuffs around his limbs and neck.

“Unfortunately for you, mongrel, those are made of iron and I doubt a ghoul as young as you has the strength to shatter them.” Veritas waved him off, looking back at me again with a wild look in his eye. “Come, Sister, show me how you’d scream for me, hm?”

Before I could even formulate a retort, a scream ripped past my lips as I felt like my ribs were on fire. I watched as he dipped the tip of the knife slightly deeper between each of Swiss’ ribs. I thrashed against the ropes, pleading with him to stop and let us go; but all my begging and pleading fell on deaf ears.

#ghost #the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #cardinal copia x reader #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #copia x reader x terzo #cardinal copia #terzo emeritus #papa terzo #my writing #sinners in secret chapters

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tutuandscoot · 8 months

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“I used to get asked all the time, what made Scott such a formidable athlete. As President of the Scott Moir Fan Club, I could go on about his innate talent, musicality, passion, drive, commitment, work ethic, coach-ability, truly the list is so long because he is the best in every way. More than that; he’s the kind of friend who always has the right thing to say, the kind of human that epitomises generosity and kindness, and the kind of skating partner that builds you up to feel like you can conquer the world. That’s the kind of person you want on your team, and I thank my lucky stars everyday he was on mine”.

“Of course I was happy to be on Tessa’s team, (I was just) counting (my) lucky stars that (I) got a front row seat to watch a genius. From her ability to move and create brilliant choreography, to her athleticism, and near perfect technique, she is the greatest skater that I have ever seen. Her brilliance is evident in everything she does on and off the ice, and she is ruthlessly competitive. All some of my favourite traits, but they don’t come close to the fire that lit within me when we skated together. THAT’S my favourite part. And oh man, we had a fire. Our eyes would meet on the ice and it would take us to another world, our passion for skating and for skating with each other would ignite- and that feeling was way better than anyone- I’m sorry to tell you this, than any spectator had ever thought they had witnessed. Things would be moving fast and I wouldn’t understand how I could keep up to her, yet I had to- it was my end of the deal. How could she push me to be my very best without pushing me at all? How could she challenge and support me all at the same time? It was about more than just results and what we created on the ice. It was about two young people, using sport to try and be the best versions of themselves- for each other, and the only measurement of success was whether we had succeeded or not. It’s was a truly beautiful journey, and it changed the course of my life. It changed how I function as an adult, as a coach and most importantly: it lives on with me…. In another two very important women in my life- my wife and daughter. The fabric of that relationship woven out of the same respect that was taught to me by one of my greatest teachers- my amazing dance partner”.

-Tessa and Scott’s remarks about each other at the 2023 Canada Sports Hall of Fame Induction

#canada sports hall of fame #shit vm say about each other

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marvelgirl123 · 3 months

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Rating Hazbin Hotel songs

So a friend of mine recently got me into Hazbin Hotel and while I haven’t watched the whole series I love it. I love the designs of the characters, the voice acting is incredible, and the little theater kid in me loves the music. I think the soundtrack is filled with absolute BANGERS that had no reason to be as good as they are. I’ve seen a lot of people rating the songs so I thought I’d do the same and before I get started these are just my opinions that you are welcome to disagree with. As long as you respect my opinions I’ll respect yours. Anyway let’s get into it

Hell’s Greatest Dad - This is actually the first Hazbin song I listened to and I love it. I think the banter and fighting between Lucifer and Alastor is hilarious and I can’t hold back a smile whenever I hear it. The song really makes them look like two divorced dads who are fighting over their daughter who doesn’t want them to fight

Respectless - I won’t deny that Velvette is a bitch but she’s fun to watch and I love her song. I think her voice actor did an amazing job with it and Velvette actually is one of my favorite character designs. She kind of reminds me of Cersei from Game of Thrones in the aspect of she’s a bitch but she’s a great and entertaining character

Stayed Gone - I love the back and forth between Vox and Alastor here and I once again think the vocal talent is great. Vox makes me think of a teenage girl who’s obsessed with the boy that turned her down at prom. The song also makes me wonder what could have possibly happened between Vox and Alastor to make them absolutely hate each other now so I hope we get some insight on that in season two

You Didn’t Know - I love the part when Emily and Charlie sing together. That harmony just scratches my brain the right way and I love it. I was also definitely not expecting Vaggie to be a fallen angel and seeing Charlie’s reaction to it broke my heart. I also loved hearing Lute sing and even though she’s a bitch I think her voice actor is really talented

More Than Anything - I love Charlie and Lucifer’s relationship and kind of envy it (daddy issues if you can’t tell). I love the “I’m grateful you’re my father/daughter” part and it always hits close to home. I also really do think that Lucifer does his best to be a good dad to Charlie and I hope we get more of him in season two

Poison - Angel Dust is one of my favorite characters so hearing this song makes me feel so bad for him and makes me hate Valentino even more. I want to hug Angel so badly whenever this song finishes and I was definitely not ready for that episode

Loser Baby - I love Husk and Angel’s relationship so much and I need to see Husk battling Valentino for Angel is some way in season two

Hell is Forever - I hate Adam and his song had no right to be so good but it was. I also love Alex Brightman and think he did an amazing job throughout the entire show even though his character is an asshole

Out for Love - This one is usually higher on people’s lists but there are just songs I’d prefer to listen to before listening to this one but still think it’s really good

Happy Day in Hell - I think Charlie is adorable and I think this one is usually further down on people’s lists but I really like it. No hate pls 🥺

Ready for This - Honestly I think Alastor and Rosie carried this whole song. I adore their friendship and hope that we get a lot more of it in season two. I need to see them hanging out and talking shit about other demons and overlords

More Than Anything (reprise) - Really cute song and I love Charlie and Vaggie together

Finale - It was a nice way to end the show but there are just other ones I like better than it. Also someone please go help Alastor, my boy needs it

Whatever it Takes - It’s a good song but it’s not really my cup of tea but I do love Carmila’s voice actor and I think we need more of Vaggie singing because I love her singing voice

It Starts With Sorry - I think this song is cute but that’s about it. Other than that I don’t have much to say on it

Welcome to Heaven - I hate this song and I think it’s pretty much just the angels flexing the whole time

And there you have it, my ratings and opinions on the songs from Hazbin Hotel. Like I said before, if you disagree that’s totally fine all I ask is that you respect my opinions. Have a great day or night and hopefully I’ll post again soon (it’s the middle of the night for me and this is what I’m doing)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #vivziepop #hazbin hotel vox #Hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel vaggie #Hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel adam

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scullysexual · 8 months

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Even as he himself fucks Scully he can’t stop imaging that it’s Alex and he is bound to some chair in the corner, forced to watch. [Mulder gets cuckholded]

(scully/krycek pairing is also in this)

Day 7: Cuckholding.

Mulder would think back on that day and connect it back to past trauma. To watch (never by much choice) as another man touched his girlfriend, fucked his girlfriend, all in front of his very eyes.

He hated it but watching Phoebe moan and wither at the hands of another man was the closest to live porn Mulder would ever get to experience. It turned him on and he hated himself for it. Most of all he hated how he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Only Phoebe had been replaced by Scully.

Alex’s offer was still on the table. Even as he himself fucks Scully he can’t stop imaging that it’s Alex and he is bound to some chair in the corner, forced to watch. He comes a little quicker picturing that scenario.

“You know, Scully…” He braves one night, covered by the darkness and her sleepy, post-orgasmic state. “If you ever wanted to fuck somebody else I wouldn’t mind.”

She spins to face him so quick she almost breaks his nose.

“Are you breaking up with me?” she asks, her voice in a state of panic.

“No, no!” Mulder hurries, that’s not what he meant at all.

“Then what is this about?” she asks. Even in the darkness he can see her confusion. “Mulder, there’s nobody else I want to have sex with.”

He tries not to feel a little disappointed at that.

“It’s nothing,” he says. “Forget I said anything.”

Her expression softens and she shifts a little closer to him.

“Mulder,” she calls gently forcing his eyes back to hers. “Talk to me.”

How could he possibly explain what his perverted mind wants more than anything? Scully has made it clear she’s not interested in having sex with anyone else. He respects that. The quicker he forgot about the idea (and ever bringing it up) the better for everyone.

“Mulder?” she pries again after receiving nothing from him.

He reminds himself that this is Scully- Scully who tries to understand everything even when she has zero grasp of the subject.

Mulder takes a deep breath, chancing it.

“I guess the idea of somebody…fucking you while I watch is incredibly arousing.” His voice is small, he avoids eye contact, instead fidgeting with the duvet cover.

“Why?” Scully says, her voice is neutral, void of all judgement.

Mulder shrugs. He knows why of course but he doesn’t want to admit that.

“Because you’re mine,” he says. It was half the reason. “Because, while these other people might just get a piece of you, I get the whole you. And it’s just, I don’t know…really, really hot.” He lets out a pathetic laugh.

“How long have you been thinking about this?”

Mulder shrugs again. “I guess since we first tried double penetration? I mean, the idea wasn’t really there but…I’d say from then.”

“Mulder, that was months ago!”

“I know.”

Scully grows quiet. Then she speaks up again.

“Do you know who the other person would be? Who I’d be having sex with?”

His brain circuit-cuts for a second. Was she actually considering this?

“Uh…Alex.”

“Alex.”

“Yeah.”

“Your ex boyfriend?”

Mulder wouldn’t go far as to calling him a boyfriend but…

“Yeah.”

Scully goes quiet again.

“Or it doesn’t have to be him,” Mulder says. “It could be somebody you know.”

“No,” Scully says shaking her head. “Alex is good. He has…experience with this?”

“Oh yeah.”

She quietens again, thinking.

“Is this…Is this something you and Phoebe have done before?” she asks.

Mulder nods. “It was always her idea. I hated it but it still really turned me on.”

“And yet you want to do it with me?”

“I can’t explain it, Scully. I know it makes me a pervert but—”

“It doesn’t make you a pervert, Mulder. And I’m sorry Phoebe made you do it. I want you to think on it for a while, make sure it is something you want to do.”

He knew for sure it was something he wanted to do but for her, he agrees.

“Okay.”

It’s a Friday night when they find themselves at Alex’s apartment. A whole month has passed. Mulder had emailed and Alex had set up the date. When both he and Scully wander through his front door, Alex’s eyes instantly fall on Scully, looking her up and down.

“Ginger?” he asks. “You’ve changed your type.”

“Guess I wanted a change,” Mulder says darkly.

Scully stands in the middle of the room, her fingers playing nervously with each other, looking from Alex to Mulder.

“You ever done something like this before?” Alex asks and Scully shakes her head. “First time, okay.” He looks at Mulder. “You- get on the bed. And you—” His eyes turn back to Scully. “Get undressed. We haven’t got all night.”

Mulder does as he’s told, climbing into position on the bed. Already feeling himself getting hard, he palms himself through his jeans, watching as Scully peels the clothes away from her body. She wasn’t his tonight, he thinks with a thrill. He is simply an onlooker, a voyeur.

“Some ground rules,” Alex says. He has stripped to his boxers now and, as Mulder can see, is starting to become effected by their predicament. He looks at Mulder. “No touching- you’re here to just watch. You’ve got practice with that, of course. Second: I will be inside her some point tonight. None of this condom shit. I’m clean, you’re clean and on some form of birth control, I assume? So condom not needed. Third: If any babies are made from this night, I am not the father. Ready?”

Alex wasn’t as good at oral as Mulder but the idea of another man’s tongue in her pussy was enough to make up for it. She can see Mulder if she tips her head back, can watch the way he pumps himself slowly up and down. The visuals and feelings are incredible. Mulder is over there yet there’s still a tongue down there.

Scully stifles a cry when Alex replaces his tongue with his fingers.

“She tastes amazing,” Alex comments.

“Oh yeah,” Mulder agrees.

Scully feels herself become wetter as they talk about her and not to her.

“I don’t know why you kept her from me for so long.” A cry does escape when Alex’s fingers scrap her g-spot. “How is she at sucking?”

“Best you’ve ever had.”

Alex pulls his fingers out, wiping them on her thigh and then giving them a little pat to gain her attention. Scully clenches at the loss.

“Let’s see. Up you get.”

He kneels as Scully sits up. He repositions them so Mulder gets a front row view.

“You better be watching this still,” he says to Mulder. She hears Mulder let out a moan.

Alex is smaller, falls a lot more into the average category than Mulder. It’s easier for Scully to wrap her lips around him, take more of him in. Her tongue plays with his head and he lets out a moan.

“Fuck…”

His hand falls to her breast, grabs her nipple and pinches it hard. Scully moans around his dick and Alex’s hips thrust forward, a momentary loss of control.

He regains that control, however, when his other hand grabs her hair and starts to move her head back and forth on his dick, the other hand still tugging and pinching at her nipple. Scully squeezes her thighs together in the hope of relieving some tension between her legs. What she wouldn’t give for Mulder to just creep behind her and insert his fingers, or his tongue, or his cock while all this was happening.

She closest her eyes, moaning at the thought. One day, she thinks.

She reopens her eyes to look over at Mulder. His eyes are dark, watching them, his dick incredibly hard. She couldn’t wait to watch him come.

Alex pulls him off her with a groan, his eyes clenched shut.

“Shit Mulder, you were right,” he says in awe. “She is a good little cock sucker.”

Both Scully and Mulder moan in unison.

“Bet you want me to fuck her now, don’t you?” There’s a glint of evil in Alex’s eyes. Scully watches as Mulder nods.

“How about that, Dana?” Alex says into her ear. The use of her first name sends her into a craze. “Fox wants me to fuck his girlfriend. How about you rate which one is better once we’re done?”

Alex doesn’t wait for her response, he moulds her into the position he wants which ends up with her on her front, doggy style, facing Mulder and Alex somewhere behind her.

The first touch of Alex’s cock sliding into her sends her into a frenzy. For a year it had just been Mulder and sex with Mulder was far from boring but she had forgotten just different other cocks could feel. That slight curve allowing Alex to touch her in places Mulder could ever, biologically, touch her. It was incredible.

And when she reopens her eyes to find Mulder’s cock not too far away from her, she knows she doesn’t have long until she comes.

“Bet you wish this was you, don’t you, Mulder?” Alex is saying though it’s all through clenched teeth. “Bet you wish you could feel how hot she is, wet she is, tight she is.”

Mulder moans, his hand now moving rapidly up and down.

“You know, I might just have to keep her to myself. I don’t think I can let her go after this.”

He’s thrusting in and out now, little thrusts, not pulling all the way out. She is so close, her fingers come up to touch her clit.

“Ohh I think she likes me more than you, Mulder,” Alex is still saying. “She’s clenching so hard around me.” He moves forward to speak into Scully’s ear. “What do you think?” he says. “Want to stay here and be my little fuck toy, Dana?”

Whether it’s her name or his words or whatever it is, it sends her right over the edge. She unravels around him, clenching around him so hard she thinks she might just break his cock.

Mulder’s come spills out of him, her name on his lips and Scully only just opens her eyes to watch. Alex grips her hips, pumping faster and easier aided by her come, it’s not long until he empties out into her either.

All three of them lay there, breathing heavily.

When Alex awakens it’s to the feel of a soft, warm body. A woman’s. He’s familiar with the difference.

He is greeted to a cloud of orange. When he looks beyond her, he can see Mulder sleeping soundly beside the girl in the middle.

She was so much better than Phoebe. So much better than most of the girls Alex found himself in bed with, in fact. Her innocence and lack of experience he found endearing and the way she’d came around him? Alex doesn’t think he’d be forgetting that any time soon.

If only she could stick around but Alex wasn’t made for relationships- he knew that much. Still, one more sneak inside probably wouldn’t hurt anyone.

There was a cock inside her.

Scully wakes to the feel of unknown arms wrapped around her, a hard cock thrusting in and out of her.

Mulder sleeps beside her, dead to the world. Alex breathes against her shoulder.

Her hips start to move in tandem, his hand wanders around to her front.

His touch is a little harder on her clit than she would’ve liked but the danger of it all, of Mulder waking up and finding them like this, is enough to spur her on. She comes around Alex Krycek’s cock for a second time as he spills into her again.

“I want to do this again,” she says later when they’re all awake, still laying in the sheets. “But I want to be able to touch both of you.” Despite her boldness a red blush still treks its way down her body.

“I think that can be arranged,” Alex says.

“Yeah,” Mulder agrees.

Scully just grins triumphantly.

#the x-files #the x files #txf fic #xfiles fanfiction #mulder and scully #msr #fictober day 7 #kinktober23 #fictober23 #iwritesmut #scullysexualwrites

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