#I didn’t like the card changes and new mechanic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

separatist-apologist · 5 months

Text

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Previous Chapter

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

There was magic in the air. Gwyn could all but taste it as Azriel laid her out on the bed. The reverence to his touch gave her pause—did he treat all females this way? She didn’t need to ask to know the answer to that question.

No.

This was different, somehow. Different in a way she didn’t dare contemplate lest she change her mind. Gwyn wanted him so badly it was making her hands shake, was clouding her vision. Her thoughts beat in time with her heart, a constant refrain of his name, his eyes, his scent.

This was a different sort of challenge, their familiar dynamic settling between them. Straddling her waist, Azriel looked down at her with dark, heavy lidded eyes that betrayed his own desire. Gwyn felt powerful, right then. He would have done anything she asked. Anything…except…maybe…

Azriel lowered his mouth to kiss her. “Stop,” she breathed, pressing a hand to his chest.

A flurry of movement happened so abruptly, so quickly that Gwyn couldn’t keep up with it. One moment the pleasant weight of Azriel’s form was pressing her to the mattress and the next the overhead chandelier was rattling as he pressed himself against the far wall, eyes wild.

“I—” he tried, voice strangled. The tendons in his neck were stark, betraying the effort in which he was keeping himself away from her. Why, she wondered, was it so difficult? Gwyn propped herself up on her elbows, refusing to feel an ounce of guilt for his discomfort.

“I just needed to know you would,” she told him, holding his gaze. “Please come back.”

“Anything,” he breathed, his wings relaxing around him. “I’ll do anything you say.”

Again, the question why tried to force itself out of her throat. Gwyn didn’t dare ask it. She wouldn’t ask. Swallowing the word, Gwyn reached for his shoulders to the moment his knee hit the mattress, pulling him back atop her for a messy, almost mean kiss. It wasn’t him she was trying to punish, but herself. She knew better—she ought to stop this, stop him and she couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

Didn’t she deserve one good thing?

No.

Gwyn pushed that thought aside, too. She wanted him and maybe, if she forced herself to believe she was good enough for him, that she deserved him, it would be true. She could forget everything else easily enough—Azriel’s hand cupped her cheek, callused skin scraping over the softness of her face as his teeth tugged gently at her bottom lip.

Open, she swore she heard him say. And she did, parting so he could taste her with a heady, deep groan that reverberated against her very bones. She wouldn’t survive him and she knew it. Maybe she didn’t want to, either. She could hold on to this forever, she decided. Come whatever may afterward, she’d always have this moment.

Even if they went back to their separate lives in Velaris…though, Gwyn suspected he wouldn’t.

Stop worrying about the future, she screamed at herself. Think about Azriel.

That was easy enough. Azriel certainly was doing an effortless job pulling her focus back to him. Who had taught him to kiss like that, she wondered idly, her fingers carding through thick, soft hair?

She’d half expected him to pull her clothes apart and have her with little preamble or further attention. Afterall, she was offering herself to him—why not just take her? Gwyn could admit her perception was skewed from the past and though she wasn’t thinking of that night, she couldn’t erase the knowledge from her mind, either. She understood the mechanics well enough.

And yet Azriel seemed more than content to kiss her, even when he reached for one of the legs she’d hooked around his waist, pulling it higher so he could grind himself against her.

“I want to know what you like,” he whispered, teeth grazing the sensitive skin of her neck.

“I like you,” she replied without thinking. Careful—she’d nearly told him the full truth of the matter. It wasn’t that she liked him, but that she loved him and that was where the danger lay.

“One day I won’t have to ask,” Azriel growled, hands skimming down her sides. “You’ll push me to the bed—you’ll tie me up.”

“Is this a confession, shadowsinger?’ she teased, sliding her hand up the hard plating of his armor. “Do you want to be tied up?”

“Yes,” he replied, rearing up on his knees to reach for the clasps of his clothing. “I want you to ride my face.”

Oh. Gwyn was certain her face was tomato red given the sly smile that spread across Azriel’s handsome face.

“You ah…probably don’t need to be tied up for that,” she managed as the armor thudded loudly to the ground. Stretching out his neck, Azriel’s smile became an almost feral grin.

“Is that so?”

“That’s not…” Azriel rolled his hips against Gwyn, pressing his erection between her thighs and the friction was enough to silence whatever protests she’d intended to offer. Dark hazel eyes watched, framed by a thick fringe of lashes. Gwyn leaned up, nails digging in muscular shoulders to pull him back against her.

“Shut up,” she spoke into his mouth. Gwyn could taste his smile, his pleasure more than just the arousal she knew he felt. How strange to realize that their friendship was making consummating their feelings all the better. Never once had Gwyn considered that genuinely liking him would make sex better.

And yet it was. She relaxed against him, hips rising to meet his own until they were both frantic and desperate, half dressed and yet unable to pull their mouths apart long enough to finish undressing. It was bliss—for once, Gwyn’s mind was utterly silent. All she knew was the male atop her, the taste of his mouth, the scent of his skin, the feel of his hands against her own.

Which made it all the more confusing when her dress was over her head and Azriel was tugging, trying to get her to lift her arms so he could toss it to the floor. When had he undone the buttons? Gwyn tried to remember and found the only thing that registered was when she’d told him to shut up. It was strange to be utterly naked before him, her underthings removed with frantic haste, his fingers all but trembling as they pulled at the laces. Hovering over her, Azriel merely stared as though it was the first time he’d ever truly looked at her.

“Gods,” he breathed, curling his fingers toward his bare chest. “You’re so beautiful. Do you know that?”

Gwyn didn’t know what to say to him, had no idea how to answer that question. Was she? Not any more beautiful than any other female, surely. He was so old, so experienced…it felt almost silly to argue with him. And yet…and yet Gwyn felt a protest rising in her throat, the discomfort of Azriel seeing her so clearly and still finding her beautiful. He could see all the jagged edges she’d pieced back together, knew how they didn’t quite fit the way they once had.

Unaware of her thoughts, Azriel reached for her face as he lowered his own, pressing his forehead against hers so their noses brushed. “Tell me you feel the same way I do.” She knew, right then, what that feeling was. Felt it between them, a cord so taught it robbed her of her ability to speak. Stronger than a ribbon, brighter than shadow.

Oh.

It was lucky her brain was too focused on what was happening between his legs to really put together what was happening everywhere else. She might have bolted, gone straight back to Prythian, back to the library, back to life before she knew Nesta and Emerie and Cassian…and Azriel.

She kissed him, instead. Better to know, she supposed—at least one of them should. And she didn’t need to tell him, right? Azriel didn’t need to know. Not yet, not ever, maybe. She could keep it a secret.

She would keep it a secret. Just until she knew what to do about this newfound knowledge, until she’d studied it and understood what, exactly, was happening. Until she’d found the mother personally, blade in hand, for a fight because how dare she. How dare the mother give Gwyn a mate.

Her kissing was too aggressive, too hungry as she turned this realization over and over in her head. It made sense—too much sense, pieced together the questions she’d had ever since she’d gotten closer to Azriel.

Azriel, at least, seemed blissfully unaware. That was for the best—he would know what a mating bond meant, would understand the gravity of the situation and Gwyn suspected their careful, soft romance would crumble under the weight of needing to accept it. She’d never know if why they had was real, or merely the mating bond pulling them together.

And she wanted more than just a bond.

Mated males were aggressive and territorial according to what she did know. And she was currently in a place where she had no say in whether she accepted the bond or not. Would it override his good sense?

Yes.

His good sense was already gone, his control so taut she was a little excited to see it snap entirely, if only to know that she had been the cause of it.

“Gwyn,” he breathed, her name a symphony on his lips. It was easy to shove everything else aside—those were problems for regular Gwyn to deal with. This was special Gwyn—the female who had his undivided attention and was the focus of his lurid fantasies.

If she’d been braver, she would have done as he’d asked earlier and climbed on his face. She felt shy, nervous even, at the thought of asking him anything or offering up any piece of herself. What if he found he didn’t like it? What if he made comparisons, realized just how inexperienced she was?

Things had changed. She was his mate, even if he didn’t know it, and the thought of him rejecting her was a vice around her throat, choking the words from her. Let him do what he wanted. Let him have her however he wanted.

Azriel always wanted the same thing, anyway. It was a safe bet to give him free reign with her body because all Azriel seemed to think about was putting his face between her legs until she was a writhing, wrung out mess. Part of her had wondered if he still would—hoped he might, and had expected him not to do much more than touch before pulling out his cock and taking her. Azriel acted as though he had all the time in the world. Maybe he did—maybe he’d forgotten Eris Vanserra was a looming presence and would certainly redescend upon them the first chance he got.

Trailing his tongue down her stomach, Azriel kept his eyes pinned to her face, waiting for a protest that was never going to come. Gwyn liked his mouth between her legs, like the way he made her come like this, seemingly with no concern for his own pleasure. Though, it certainly did something for him. She watched as he adjusted himself, hips pressing hard against the mattress as he spread her open.

It was a slow torment, mouth kissing one thigh, trailing higher and higher before he switched with a devilish smile as she squirmed and moved, trying to position herself exactly right but Azriel continued his teasing until she did the one thing she knew he wanted.

Gwyn begged. “Azriel,” she panted, holding his gaze as he waited, his shoulders all but trembling with whatever monumental restraint it took to keep himself from tasting her. “Please—”

That was as far as he let her go, tongue delving into her body with a rumbling, near animalistic groan. Everything melted away, leaving Gwyn once again in a world only she and Azriel occupied. She wanted to live there permanently, to stay forever in this place they’d created and the magic that shielded them.

Reaching for the strands of his hair, Gwyn raked her nails along his scalp, her sighs of pleasure loud enough to encourage him to keep going. She wasn’t going to perform for him—wasn’t going to scream and cry and whimper. If he wanted her, he would have to take her exactly as she was.

She wanted him to know exactly what he was getting into so when she was forced to deliver the news they were mates, he at least knew what the next five centuries of his life might look and feel and sound like. Maybe that was the scholar in her that couldn’t just let things be, who needed to uncover the truth even about their potential relationship before she could make an informed decision.

And she wanted him to do the same.

But more than anything, Gwyn wanted Azriel to want her the way he did right then. Wanted him to forever feel this dizzy, this desperate, this out of control. Not because some divine force compelled him to, but because it was her, and any other choice was simply unfathomable.

Another soft groan pulled Gwyn from her thoughts, her attention refocused on the male between her legs. Azriel’s hips, still clad in his leather pants, ground against the mattress in a rhythm that left her ears ringing softly. She wanted to know what that felt like, to share more than just space, but a body.

Given they already shared a soul, it seemed all that was left. Maybe there was something to be said about impatience, she decided, even as his tongue slid up and down her cunt, tasting every inch of her thoroughly. Didn’t he want to know what it felt like? Where was his sense of urgency?

She could hurry him along, she decided. Gwyn twisted the fingers in his hair, pushing him closer and Azriel groaned again, his tongue moving faster, his fingers teasing her entrance. This was what she needed, she thought, her anxiety melting into nothing more than arousal. Azriel was focused, his free hand wrapping around her waist to lift her into the air, bringing her even closer to his face. It didn’t seem as though he could breathe and perhaps he didn’t care to, no longer required anything but her to sustain himself.

He was certainly licking her as if that were the case. One finger, and then another, pushed into her body, eliciting a hiss of air from Azriel at whatever he found. Was he imagining how it might feel on his cock? Gwyn certainly hoped so because she wanted to know, too.

Gwyn wanted to replace every bad memory with a good one, wanted to know only pleasure. Just this once, she thought, the words a silent prayer and plea to the Mother above. She wouldn’t ask for anything else if she could have just one perfect moment with this male she loved.

The male who was her mate.

Gwyn rose higher and higher, gripping the sheets for purchase on reality while Azriel continued, determined to see this to the end. And when she came she fractured entirely, those pieces she’d carefully put back into place breaking once more only to reforge themselves amidst the golden light she swore shimmered between them.

Azriel cursed, pulling his fingers from her still convulsing body while she watched through heavy lids. He brought them to his lips, tasting her once again before he reached for his pants. Hesitating, Azriel asked, “Are you sure?”

If she told him no, would he fling himself across the room again? Words eluded her just this once, leaving Gwyn to nod, to reach for him even as he began unlacing his trousers. It was both seconds and an eternity before he was finally unclothed, still kneeling over her as if he expected her to change his mind.

But Gwyn wouldn’t—she couldn’t.

And she was ready.

AZRIEL:

Breathe.

That was the only thought that came to him as he lowered himself against his mate, her teals gleaming with trust he wasn’t sure was entirely deserved. After all, he was half lying to her. Hoping that by having sex with her, he could force her to feel the mating bond and keep them together in the most permanent way possible.

Truthfully, he’d hoped it would have snapped already, but he’d take what he could get. Leaning his chest against her own, Azriel kissed her to distract from what was about to happen. He’d vowed to make it as painless as possible no matter how badly the mating urge in his chest snarled to just take her. There would be time for it—one day when she was used to him, when she trusted him.

When he’d let her tie him up and have utter control, she’d let him have a little, too. Let him be messy, rough—even mean, he hoped. Today, though, was building on the trust he hoped he’d been laying since they’d first met.

Do you trust me not to hurt you? Do you trust that I love you? That I would ruin this world if you asked me to?

Because he would have done far more terrible things than simply line the head of his cock up with her cunt. Azriel would have destroyed all Rhys’s careful alliances with the continents, with the seasonal courts and even the solar courts too, if Gwyn felt even momentarily insulted. He’d turn his back on his friends, his home, his life before her.

He’d pull out his sword and carve bloody vengeance through her enemies simply to see her smile and gods the mere thought of doing so made him smile. Gwyn didn’t notice, was unaware of the vicious fantasies weaving their way through his mind as she dug her nails into his shoulders. That was, perhaps, for the best.

She was too kind—she’d never ask him for any of the things he wanted to do. And maybe, he considered, she didn’t have to. Or shouldn’t, at least. The years she’d spent suffering surely warranted a little violence on her behalf? Azriel knew she wouldn’t be angry with him if he did, if nothing else. Exasperated, perhaps…but maybe not even that.

She’d get her own weapon bloody too. He shuddered at the thought, the image of the pair of them standing shoulder to shoulder, hands curled around unforgivably sharp blades, skin splattered in cooling blood.

Mine, you’re mine, you’re mine—

“I’ve been waiting centuries for you,” he whispered against her neck instead. Gwyn merely whimpered, lips parted for a kiss he was all too glad to give her. That was true, at least—he had been waiting, wondering, wishing. She was here, now, and Azriel wasn’t giving her up. Wasn’t sending her back into the world without him just behind, one hand resting on his sword in warning. The world had thought to be cruel to her—a mistake it would not make again.

Azriel pushed himself ever so slightly into her body, his fragile control fracturing without entirely breaking. He’d prepared himself, he reminded himself through gritted teeth. When his fingers had been in her body, he’d known exactly what he was going to encounter. And he’d sworn it would be fine—that he could handle the slowness she would require.

His mistake was thinking his fingers and his cock shared anything in common. However good it had felt to feel her come against his hand, this was infinitely better. Exquisite, even. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, arms trembling with the effort it took to hold himself over her, muscles pulled taut as he forced himself not to drive himself fully into her.

He felt her squeeze around the head of his cock, pulling a puff of air from his lungs. This was torture like he’d never imagined, heaven and hell, pain and pleasure all at once. “Gwyn,” he groaned, both prayer and plea.

“More,” she replied, her forehead resting against his chest. “I can take it.”

He didn’t think he could. Still, Azriel inched himself in further and further still, watching her for any signs of discomfort—anything that would convince him to stop, to try again another day. Even when his body screamed at him to keep going, that he would tear off his own skin if he had to leave her, Azriel held himself tight, wings tucked against his back.

It occurred to him once he was fully seated in her body, that Gwyn would never tell him if he was hurting her. He hadn’t thought of it before, had forgotten how stubborn and single-minded she could be. She’d made a decision and she’d see it through if only to satisfy her own academic curiosity.

“Tell me how you feel,” he ordered, pulling on the magic of their shared mating bond to compel her to answer. Gwyn didn’t open her eyes, though she did slide her hands up and down his bare chest.

“Good,” she whispered, squeezing herself somehow tighter. Azriel’s hips jerked of their own accord, drawing two mirrored moans of pleasure from them both. She couldn’t fake that, he decided—she wouldn’t. If she was miserable, he’d know. He’d feel it.

Azriel hesitated for only a second, hoping to see her eyes fly open with recognition, to have the satisfaction of her realization that he was her mate. There was no disappointment when she didn’t.

It was impossible to feel disappointment when he was buried inside her body, after all. Azriel thrust again as nicely as he could—which wasn’t very nice at all—deeply satisfied when she moaned again. Of course she’d like what he liked. They were matched, after all. Not that he intended to fully unleash himself on her. He had all the time in the world for that and still Azriel’s pleasure was heightened by the knowledge she was enjoying him. That she wanted him for something beyond his status and his appearance.

That she’d seen into his ugly soul and found something beautiful. Something worth loving. Azriel told himself that was enough—no one had ever cared for him like that. He could tell her the truth about himself, could let her see the things he hid from everyone else and Gwyn didn’t flinch, didn’t turn and run or wish for something better. She saw it and she liked it.

“Fuck,” he whispered, lacking the eloquence the moment demanded. Gwyn’s eyes opened, a shade of blue so dark they looked like icy pools of water—a midnight sky dotted with stars. Whatever control he had left was lost to him, slipping away on a whispering wind as though it were another of his shadows.

His next thrust was rougher, more punishing than before. Not so hard to bruise. Just enough to see that sharpness return to her gaze, her cheeks flushed with heat. She’d come once, he rationalized, and male pride demanded she come again. That he feel her pleasure wrapped around his cock.

Azriel pressed himself fully against her, bracing his body weight against his elbows so he could kiss her. Madness overtook him the moment she kissed him back, tongue tangling with his own to taste her own arousal still lingering in his throat. The feel of her lips against his own only heightened his pleasure, drawing him too high too fast. He needed her to come, too—needed to fuck her again, and again, and again.

He understood right then the danger of what he’d done. This wasn’t how he normally felt. Azriel wasn’t himself, couldn’t stop the growl that slipped when he licked down her throat nor the possessive hand on her hip. Gwyn panted, head thrown back as she drew higher, her cunt tightening around him rhythmically. She was going to come and he was going to die. Azriel knew it and couldn’t stop himself, his own thrusts erratic and desperate,

He was chanting her name like she was a goddess, he her most fervent acolyte. Perhaps he was. Gwyn came, her back arching off the bed with such force she slammed her forehead against his collarbone. The sight of her was holy—and Azriel’s awe was overshadowed only by his own pulsating desire. He came a mere second later, exhaling loudly while Gwyn’s teeth bit roughly into his shoulder to swallow whatever scream might have escaped.

It wasn’t enough. He felt sated and needy all at once. Even as he felt his own come slide between them, making a mess of the sheets, Azriel couldn’t stop his thrusting. Gwyn didn’t ask him to, nails carving a bloody path down his back before she remembered his wings.

He came that second time before her, unable to help himself when her fingers slid along the edge of his wing exactly as he’d always fantasized. He was too loud, his growl rattling the window panes.

He needed the other males to know, secrecy be damned.

If you touch her, I’ll kill you.

Brutally slow, with the efficiency of a torturer who knew what he was doing.

His only saving grace was the female beneath him—she came again, half laughing, half panting and oh. She was everything. More than just his mate, he realized, but perhaps his best friend, too. And that smile on her face, her pretty, breathless laughter, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

It was enough to slow him down, to remind him she wasn’t going anywhere. Azriel pulled her into his arms, face buried in her neck as he bit back all the things he wanted to say. And Gwyn let him, holding him just as fiercely, just as tightly.

“I’m not done with you, shadowsinger,” she whispered into his hair before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Neither was he.

#gwynriel #i hope it was worth the wait

75 notes · View notes

upsidedog · 1 year

Text

max mayfield is 7 years old, like kelly green and annie johnson, who are her best friends. she isn’t their’s, she knows this. like she knows kelly will live in a mansion, become a princess and drive a lamborghini with her twelve kids and husband, tom simon, her seat partner. kelly’s happy, obviously, she cheated, she always cheats at m.a.s.h, but max is happy for kelly anyway, she tells her. max is marrying annie’s dad, the other girls gag at the idea, she makes a joke about marrying rich “like grandma said my mom should’ve!” max laughs too loud, no response from the girls. “i’m glad she didn’t though cuz i love my dad…” she specifies. this embarrassment doesn’t stop her from squealing at her own barf joke later on, she repeats it in case kelly and ann didn’t hear. “she’s so annoying, do we have to keep hanging out with her? your guy’s moms aren’t even friends anymore.” kelly pleads after recess, max knows they know she can hear them.

max mayfield is 9 years old, she and billy hargrove recently became siblings, legally at least, billy would not call them that, max doesn’t care. and not in the way that she’s feigning chillness to seem on top of things, but in the way that she knows if she plays her cards right she can prove herself as someone worth calling a sister. “that jacket makes you look like a dyke.” billy says, he and his friends pool into the backyard. a month ago she’d ask if she could play with them, but she’s smarter now, she’s no longer a pussy, she’s a dyke, its change, it’s progress, she can work with it. “yeah, even more than usual.” one of the friends adds, everybody laughs. max remains focused on tightening the bolts of her skateboard and uses her free hand to flip the boys off. mentally she prays this is what playful sibling fighting looks like and not an action that will get her deck ripped away from her and broken against the concrete. it’s fine, the boys mock and jeer but don’t say anything she hasn’t heard before. another friend asks if she rides her skateboard or just pretends to be it’s mom. this is in reference to the time she convinced herself the boys were interested in knowing her and earnestly spoke about the mechanics of her skateboard, being too passionate, speaking too much, smiling too wide. all things she has since learned the right amount of is none. “i don’t know.” she gets up. “do you have a life or are you such a dweeb the only time you feel the need to get off your ass is to annoy a little girl with real hobbies?” when she walks off she hears the other boys gang up on him, he’s the new fool, all the other boys were just guilty of the same thing, but whatever. she thinks maybe if she maintains this for a little longer they can return back to the sibling conversation. they don’t even have to call it that, they could just do the part where they’re nice to each other sometimes.

max mayfield is 11 years old. jenny chen is a teenager, fifteen, from san francisco, short black hair, dresses like she’s on the cover of thrasher, first girl max has ever seen at the skate park who isn’t just there to watch. max wants to be her friend so bad it makes her stomach turn. until it happens. “i never see other girls who skate! it’s so cool to meet you, i’m jenny!” max knows. she ignores jenny’s invitation to fist bump. “do you really skate? or are you just someone’s girlfriend?” max knows the answer to the question, but she also knows the ending to this story. jenny pulls her hand back like max hit it. “yeah i skate, but i’m sure the boys here wish.” her laugh is refreshing, max didn’t know that was a thing laughs could be, it was so cool and light and confident, like it reset something in her. max wonders how someone can be so cool without any hit of cruelty, when max tells jenny she has to do a trick to prove it she shrugs and agrees like it wasn’t something said with the intention of upsetting her. jenny does an ollie off on the half pipe and asks if she can see any of max’s tricks. it makes max more upset that there’s no malice in this request, the audacity to show genuine interest in her. max is usually too mean but to jenny she cannot be mean enough. and typically she cannot do an ollie off a half pipe. today is no different. she falls and wakes up in the hospital. billy hands her flowers, rolls his eyes, then goes to wait in the car. max’s mom lets jenny apologize. it’s a real genuine apology, even though she has nothing to be sorry for it still feels good and different. max tells jenny to leave and never sees her at the park again.

max mayfield is 13 years old, she wonders if the group of boys yelling over dig dug are too. her initial annoyance with their hogging of her favorite game has melted into an admiration.. that’s too bold, curiosity, maybe. there’s arguments every other minute but between those there’s “oh wait! oh shit! lucas you genius! you genius!” whoever’s praising “lucas” gets so excited his friend progressed in the game the other boys have to pull him away. when the little one says he can’t see, no one mocks his size, instead the group instinctively makes room for their friend. and they’re all being too loud, too passionate, definitely taking the game too seriously. max wonders what it would be like to have something like that. she wonders how long they have all been friends for. do you have one chance for something like their’s as a child and then never again? has she missed her opportunity? could she even exist in an environment like that or would her cruelness be so sharp it’d cut through any moments tenderness? if she just walked up and asked to join what they’d say? answers for another day. maybe never. probably never.

max mayfield is 15 years old and mike wheeler’s basement is her favorite place in the whole wide world. which is why it’s the ideal location for her birthday party. sure billy is dead and el and will are moving next week, but ignore that, because yes will and el are moving away which is sad because they’re two of her best friends, but they’re two of her best friends, and she’s there’s. el is sitting on the floor with max making stupid jokes and max is clutching a pillow to her stomach, laughing like she’s alone, too much, too loud, dustin joins in and is even worse, she loves it. lucas interrupts, nudging her back with his foot. “this is the part you like.” he mouths, big, stupid, earnest, adorable smile on his face, so proud to remember. she’s proud of him too, swooned might be the better word, if she’s being honest. she likes him so much she wants to shrink herself into something small and accessible for him, but the worst part is that isn’t even what he wants from her. as much as max is trained to see the worst in others, lucas is real and warm and never says anything he doesn’t mean and he says he likes her. “thanks.” is all she can get out, trying not unravel from the affection. her last straw is mike and will marching down the basement stairs singing happy birthday. she’s clenching her teeth, mentally “don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry”-ing. she’s crying. it didn’t work, she’s crying. they’re doing this nice thing and she’s going to ruin the moment because she’s crying, they’re the best friends she’s ever had and she’s crying, they’re the only friends she’s ever had and she’s crying and they’re hugging her and laughing and she’s laughing and oh god, it’s good, she’s crying because she’s loved.

#stranger things #max mayfield #lumax #elmax #madwheeler #madcleric #idk any of the other pairing names (the 1s u’d think are platonic r platonic btw)#byler #<- idgaf them bringing that cake down the stairs was romantic #sorry for the longness and the me clearly not being a writerness i need a way to write fanfiction without writing fanfiction #tw d slur #cw d slur

183 notes · View notes

starry-eyesanddaydreams · 4 months

Text

December 18: Blankets and Snuggles

Sinclair Bryant x Reader

(Sequel to Day 15's Cards and Coals) You and Sinclair are falling hard and fast, but you've both still healing from recent hurts and need to talk.

{Okay, here we go, Day 18 of @deepperplexity 's Rickmas prompts and the continuation of you and Sinclair.

You opened the door to your flat and saw Sinclair's handsome face. “Hey, right on time! Make yourself comfy, I have something on the stove.” You said quickly as you hurried back to the kitchen. Sinclair hung up his coat by the door before making his way to the couch. Your little flat was dotted with Christmas decorations, the couch had blankets and throw rugs laid across the back and arms. The pot-belly stove in one corner was lit and casting a nice warmth through the room. Sinclair sat back on the plush couch and waited for you, watching a little mechanical Christmas carousel ornament spin slowly on the side table. After a few moments you came back into the room, carrying a tray with a plate and two mugs. “Sorry to run off,” you said, “If you take your eyes off milk it burns in a heartbeat.” You set the tray on the coffee table and almost laughed at the way Sinclair’s eyes lit up. “You made the gingerbread men.” He said, picking up one of the cookies to look at the decorations. “Yup, finally got around to it.” You’d been spending most of your free time away from work with Sinclair. The first day you’d met, he’d taken you to Lenora’s bakery, and had afterwards just wandered aimlessly while Sinclair showed you around town. Since then you’d gone out to dinner together, trolled through book shops and a local Christmas market, he’d even taken you for a drive in the country which ended up with exploring a beautiful patch of woods near the river.

“These look so cute it’s almost a shame to eat them. Almost.” He said before biting the arm off a cookie. At this you did laugh before handing him a mug, “This won’t be as good as Lenora’s but it goes well with the gingerbread. Sinclair took the mug and took a sip of the hot chocolate, “This is delicious.” He said, closing his eyes as he took another sip. You sat quietly, watching him for a moment. You were falling hard and fast for this man. And as much as it excited you, it scared you as well. Sinclair opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression falling slightly at the look in your eyes, “What’s wrong?” He asked. You took a breath and set your mug back on the table before saying, “I need to talk to you about something.” Sinclair set his cup and the half-eaten cookie on the table as well and gently took on of your hands in his, “What’s the matter?” You looked down at where his hand was wrapped warmly around yours for a moment, before looking up at his hazel eyes, “Remember when I said I moved out here for a change of scene?” Sinclair nodded. “Well, it was a change of everything really. I needed to start over fresh. My last relationship, well, it wasn’t a healthy one. He was very controlling, closed off, quick tempered. I felt always on edge, started doubting myself all the time, feeling like everything I did was wrong. In the end I was a wreck. That’s why I moved out of the city. I needed to be somewhere new where I could relax and put myself back together.” You threaded your fingers with his and squeezed gently, “Then I met you, and you just made me feel so safe and happy right from the start. And the more I get to know you, the more I like you. But part of me is scared, to move to quickly. And it’s nothing that you’ve done, it’s just me and my issues. But I wanted to tell you this now, so we don’t get a misunderstanding down the line. I’ve had enough silence and tension in my life, I want to just be open about things.”

Sinclair felt his heart clench and he felt an aching need to hold you close and keep you safe. He hated the thought of you being hurt or feeling by anyone. He didn’t quite know what to say right now. You wanted openness though. “I was married, for a few years.” He said, slowly, “I got a divorce four months ago.” “I guessed that.” You said, quietly. “How?” “The tan line from you’re ring’s not faded fully yet.” Sinclair looked to where your hand was still linked with his, “Huh, I hadn’t noticed it for a while.” You gently squeezed your fingers around his again. “What happened? If you don’t mind my asking.” Sinclair took a breath before answering, “She cheated on me. When I found out, part of me hoped that things would work out, that we could get through it. But I just couldn’t look at her the same again. It was broken beyond repair, we both new it. Looking back now, I don’t think we would have lasted even if she didn’t cheat. We just weren’t suited. After the divorce, for a while after I felt like I was just…going through the motions of life. Then I started to feel like myself again. And then I met you. I understand what you said. The way I’ve felt since I met you, part of me wants to just jump into that feeling. But I think it’s completely understandable that we’re both a bit gun shy.” You wondered what kind of idiot would hurt this beautiful man. You wanted to do anything to keep that beautiful sparkle in his eyes. “I think we both deserve to be happy too.” You said, “Do you want this…us…to become something more?”

Sinclair looked at you adoringly, “More than anything.” “So do I. Can we just, take things easy? Enjoy this as it comes? Talk more about it later?” “That sounds wonderful.” He just looked at you for a moment before asking softly, “Can I hug you?” “Yes, please.” You said and Sinclair drew you into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder, enjoying the soft fabric of his jumper against your skin and the strong feel of his arms. The two of you stayed like that for a while, before you spoke up, “Want to watch a movie and snuggle?” His chuckle against your ear was the most beautiful sound, “Yes,” he said, “Grab one of those blankets.” While you grabbed your fluffiest blanket from the arm of the couch behind you, Sinclair leaned forward to get the tv remote and your cups, snagging a couple more cookies as well to share. You spent the rest of the evening like that, snuggled up on the couch with the blanket across both of you and Sinclair’s arm around your shoulder, watching an Agatha Christie double feature you found on tv. Both content to just be and enjoy this feeling.

——————————————————————

Thanks for reading! Sinclair is so Taurus coded and if a Taurus shares their food, they love you.

#rickmas2023 #Rickmas 2023 #alan rickman #sinclair bryant x reader

35 notes · View notes

threadsun · 8 months

Note

Ok, here is the entire intro fic in one piece, enjoy!

You still can’t fucking believe you’re doing this, how did you get here again? Oh, right, the letter. Not a letter in your mailbox, or even under the front door, no, that would make too much sense. This letter was tucked safely under your pillow next to a concerningly sticky spot right next to your head. The letter was about your dad, he had recently passed and he left you his house and his whole ass cult in his will. No, really, in the will it says “and my whole ass cult” Apparently your father had a sense of humor

Your mother warned you not to go, urging you to come with her to flee the country, but something about this was too insane to not delve into. You also felt bad for all those poor people your father must have tricked, people don’t just decide to move to a commune because they’re in a good place in life, maybe you could help them out, change some lives. Or maybe the thought of having a whole town under your control sounded just a little too good to pass up. Either way, you packed everything important in a few bags and suitcases and plugged the address into your GPS

It was a few hours drive, and your car was making some concerning noises an hour or so out, but you pressed on, hoping this little town had a mechanic. You manage to get your car to pull through just long enough to get you into town and into a gas station parking space. You noticed the gas station had clearly seen better days, not because it was dirty at all, but because of how old it looked, the pumps didn’t even have card readers on them

While looking around, wondering just what you should do next, you read the sign of the shop right next door “Jo’s Repair Shop” You guessed it was common sense to have a repair shop right next to a gas station. As you walk over you spot a guy on his smoke break, you’d hate to bother him but you did need your car looked at. Yep, that’s it, that's the only reason, it’s not just your excuse to talk to the handsome stranger, definitely not, that would be silly. Oh wow, he’s built like a brick house, can you even talk to this guy? Oh, fuck he’s looking at you, quick, just don’t be weird

“Howdy” Howdy? Your one job was to be normal and you open with Howdy??? Wait, he laughed, god he sounds nice, at least he thinks you’re funny instead of stupid. You ask that after his break he looks at your car because of the noise it keeps making “Oh, that was your car? I thought someone was killing a dog out here” He chuckles and you can’t help but feel a bit flustered, you can’t tell if the feeling comes from having made that noise on the road for about an hour now, or because of how nice his voice was to listen to

He tells you it’s no trouble and puts out his cig, saying “I really need to quit anyhow” before letting you lead the way to your car. He gives your car a good once over before looking back at you “Well, I’ll be honest with you, it’s a miracle you got this far, doll. Your breaks are shot and your engine almost looks like it’s been cut with something. Sorry to say, but I don’t think I can get her up and running again, at least not cheaper than just buying a new car”

Great, just great, moving into a new town with no car, awesome. You sigh and thank him for the trouble, asking how much he wanted for the once over. He tilts his head “How much? I just looked at it, doll you don’t gotta pay me anything” …Doll? Doll??? Is this man trying to kill you? It didn’t register the first time he said it but it sure is now. You stutter out a thank you and ask how far out the founder’s house is “Oh…uh, from here it’s about a mile, but there’s not much of a reason to go. The founder died about a week ago” His eyes glaze over as he speaks, like he’s not even here. You tell him you know about your father’s recent passing, and apologize for bringing it up, saying he clearly meant more to him than he ever did to you

Joseph takes a moment, you can almost hear him trying to grind the rust off the gears in his head “Wait, father, like…like he’s your dad? Or was, I guess, but you’re-you…you’re the founder’s kid?” You have to stifle a laugh before confirming that yes, your dad was indeed your dad “...Holy shit-uh, sorry, I shouldn’t cuss in front of you, unless you want me to? God, you saw me smoke” He runs his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down “Sorry, let’s start over. I’m Joseph, it’s an honor to meet you, your grace”

You’re a little taken aback by his shift in tone but also a bit flattered. You tell him your name and that it’s nice to meet him as well, not missing the small shudder that runs through him when you say his name. He quietly says your name, testing how it feels on his tongue, the way he looks at you when he says it sends up to your cheeks “Well since you’re moving in you probably have quite a bit in your trunk, so we’ll need someone to move it. I mean, I don’t have a doubt everyone in town would pitch in to help you out but you look a little overwhelmed already”

You nod, you’ve only been here for about fifteen-thirty minutes and you’re already a bit shaken, the long drive here probably wasn’t helping things “Hm, why don’t I take you over to Laurent’s place? The actual restaurant is closed because Jean broke his arm but the bakery and frozen section are still open. We’ll get some food in you and I’ll talk to Berry about bringing his car over to haul your stuff” You agree, thanking him for all the trouble, he just laughs, and you can’t help be notice just how fake his other one’s sounded in comparison “If this is trouble I’d love to see what you think doing someone a favor is. Now come on, let’s get you something to eat” You make sure to lock your car before walking off with your new acquaintance, still nervous but excited to see where today will take you

================================================

The bell above the restaurant’s door rings as Joseph holds it open for you, the wonderful smell of freshly baked bread and something sweet surrounding you as you walk in. It’s a quaint little restaurant, more the size of a cafe than anything. A few booths and tables are scattered about in an area off to the side from the main counter, above which are prices for various frozen treats, and below are display cases for baked goods

Behind the counter is a very… normal-looking man. You don’t mean that as an insult it’s just the best way you can describe him at first glance, besides being ginger “Hey, Berry, someone sick or something? You usually don’t run the counter” The man behind the counter, who you now know as Berry, just shrugs “I thought I’d take Mariah’s shift, something told me today would be rather interesting. Who’s this?” As he looks at you you can feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, you swear you’ve heard his voice before

“Oh, right, Berry this is the founder’s child” The way his eyes widen almost looks practiced “Really? Well, welcome to Laurent’s Place. Would you like some froyo? I’ve actually been working on a new flavor just for you” You try to decline his offer as politely as you can, saying you’d prefer something warm. Berry pouts at this “Oh, well maybe next time. As for warm foods, I’m afraid Jean’s still in his cast after the scene at the funeral. I’ll talk to Rory about making something, I’m sure he wouldn't mind if it’s for you” You could swear his smile got a bit wider when he talked about whatever incident left one of the chefs in a cast, but you shake it off, there’s no way, right?

Berry exits through a door to what you can only assume would be a kitchen as Joseph walks you to one of the empty tables “...So, I know you haven’t been here long, but do you like what you’ve seen so far? The town, I mean, you know I-I wasn’t talking about me or anything, just, um, yeah” Poor guy, you can tell he’s nervous, his blush starting to spread to his ears at his clunky attempt at small talk

You give him a reassuring smile and say everything you’ve seen so far has been great, the people too. His smile is so wide, it’s like he just can’t contain how happy he is. He looks away bashfully and you notice just how small he looks like this, just how cute he is burying as much of his face as he can in the hand he’s propped up on the table. You didn’t have long to admire his blush, his face paling as he saw Berry bringing you food over

“Here you are! Hope you like them” Berry sets a stack of pancakes on the table, made exactly how you like them. It’s almost scary how perfect they look, and taste you find out as you take an experimental bite. You thank Berry and give your compliments to the chef “Of course, I’ll let him know” Berry turns to leave before Joseph stops him “Actually, I know you’re busy today but their car broke down and I was hoping you’d help haul their stuff to the founder’s house, or, old house, I guess”

Berry’s eyes light up at this “Of course, anything for the child of prophecy. I’ll get on that right now” Joseph stands up a bit too quickly “I’ll come too! I mean, you know, cuz I know where their car is” You only now realize how pale Jo’s face gets while talking to Berry, how tense he seems. You tell the two that you’ll need a minute to finish your food “Oh, don’t worry, we can handle it just fine. You just relax here while we go move your things, we won’t look into anything, promise” The way Berry says it is almost sarcastic, like he’s just waiting for you to call him out on it. You just nod and thank them for the help

Berry sticks his head in the back and yells something before leaving with Joseph to move your things for you…to move your things for you. Wait, why the fuck would you ever agree to that? This is nuts, you don’t fucking know these people why do you just keep saying yes to them??? Because they’re hot. Yeah, ok, what’s a good reason you keep saying yes? … Yeah, that’s what you thought. God damn it, at least the pancakes are good, a bit salty but it’s a welcome addition to be sure

Everything just keeps happening, it’s a little hard to keep up. Most of your day has been on the road in your own little world, only stopping once or twice for gas and bathroom breaks. While this all sounded new and existing on paper it’s a little terrifying in practice, you’re already getting a little homesick, though the pancakes do taste like the ones your mom made for you. Yeah, your mom’s awesome, you wish there was just one familiar face around here. As you’re about halfway done with your stack the front door rings

================================================

You hear the front door ring as another customer walks in and orders their “usual” from who you can only assume to be…oh fuck, what did Berry say their name was? Tori? No, damn, this is a small town you have to get better at names. Before you can ponder what truly is in a name you hear the customer walking towards you. They look familiar, but you can’t quite place why. They seem to be just following their routine as they sit down in the booth across from you, not even looking up to see if it was taken

You just sit there a moment before clearing your throat in an attempt to get their attention “Hm? Oh, oh gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I wasn’t even looking, I just always sit here to wait, I’m so sorry” You tell them it’s fine, asking them if the Monday fog is still hanging around. A nervous laugh escapes them “Y-Yeah, you know how it is, um…oh, shit. I’m so sorry, but I can’t seem to remember your name” You explain how you don’t think you’ve ever met before and tell them your name

Their eyes go wide and they clutch their chest, you think something’s wrong until they start fumbling inside their shirt and pull out a necklace. That necklace, holy shit, the necklace, the red hair, the freckles, that cute little stutter, it’s Ian! Words begin to fly out of your mouth at record pace, asking how he’s been, what he’s been up to, if his mom’s still a bitch, and apologizing for not recognizing him sooner. Ian just sits there, his mouth opening and closing, as if trying to say something but nothing comes out

Then he starts to cry, he tries to keep it in but fails miserably, he never could hold his tears back. You get up and move to his side of the booth, rubbing his back like you always did when he was upset, and just like back then he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your shoulder. You let him cry it out for a while until he calms down “You…you don’t hate me?” He croaks out. You explain to him that you’ve never hated him, and that it would be a little silly for little you to ask him out if you did. He laughs, sounding relieved “Ye-yeah, I guess so, huh? But…if you didn’t hate me, why did you leave?”

You explain that you’re not really sure why you had to leave, all you remember is your mom putting you into the car when it was dark and driving as fast as she could. Ian’s eyes darken slightly “Oh…so it’s her fault. Huh, well, at least you’re back now. Oh, sorry!” His hands recoil from your waist, almost as if the touch had burned him, and he straightens up “Sor-sorry, I wasn’t, it’s just that, it-it’s been so long, I just-” You cut him off and tell him it’s fine, remembering that he will just keep going until you stop him

“Right, um, well here, let me pay for your food. It’s the least I could do” You go to decline when you hear “Ian, your order’s ready” You stand up to let him out of the booth to grab his box of donuts “Um, hey, are you sticking around for a while? I-I’d love to keep talking but I have to get these back to set, and get my makeup on again, why does Shaun keep making his monsters covered in fur? Uh, do you think we can talk again?” You tell him you’re here to stay and you’d love to catch up sometime “Really? Awesome! Well, I need to go but I’ll see you later, bye!” The poor guy nearly slams into the door from his excitement before turning around and pushing it open with his back

You smile to yourself as you eat, reminiscing on just how much has changed, and just how much really hasn’t. Ian’s still a bit of a mess, and everything still looks pretty old, except this restaurant which looks pretty modern all things considered. You always thought your little kindergarten boyfriend was lost to time, but there he was, a full-grown man now. Wait, was Ian a man? Looking back on things he had some solid egg vibes, oh fuck you didn’t even ask for his pronouns, their pronouns? Oh damn it, have you been assuming people's genders this whole time? When did all your pancakes end up in your stomach? How long have you been looking at this empty plate?!

Ok, ok, fuck, no, you’re ok, everyone’s fine, nobody died. Just take a deep breath in…and out. Ok, you’ll just ask them for their pronouns later, you’re usually good about this, maybe how old everything looks is making you assume shit? Who knows, either way, you need to pay for those delicious pancakes so you get up and head over to the counter. There’s a register so it’s probably safe to assume this is where you pay, and you are a bit curious as to who apparently made your pancakes. After a moment someone in a similar uniform to Berry’s walks out of the door that leads to the kitchen, a basket of fresh rolls in their arms “Sorry for the wait, I couldn’t let these babies burn”

================================================

The chef (baker?) puts the rolls in their spot and straightens back up to look at you “Can I help you?” Now that you can see their face properly you notice they’re wearing face paint of some kind, must be good stuff too, it’s such a bright pink but it doesn’t look cakey at all, ironic for a baker “Are you gonna order something or are you just going to stare at me?” You snap out of your little trance, apologizing for staring and asking how much for the pancakes

they tilt their head in confusion “Uh, unless I made another stack in my sleep Ian just paid for them, you don’t owe me anything” You feel your face get hot, both from how awkward this interaction was getting and the fact that you let them pay for you like that. You ask how much it was so you can pay Ian back later. Rory chuckles at this “Don’t worry, they were about five bucks, nothing to sweat over. Besides, Ian’s loaded nowadays, but if you are gonna have a heart attack over it could you do it outside? I really don’t feel like getting the mop out”

You chuckle, appreciating their attempt to lighten the mood. You tell them you’ll make sure to reschedule your heart attack for a later date and ask for their name “Damn, you really are new, huh? I’m Rory, Rory Rainberry, pleasure to meet you…?” You tell them your name, and then tell them your full name to mimic them “Huh, so it really is you. Everyone was talking about how you were gonna come back after the founder died but I was a bit skeptical. Glad to have you here though, you seem alright, as long as you give all this your best shot I’m sure you’ll do fine”

You can feel a bit of weight come off your shoulders as they speak, the way they talk making it seem like they’re an old friend rather than some stranger. You thank them for the assurance, telling them that today’s already been a bit of a whirlwind and you’ve only just gotten here “Yeah, that’s how folks here can be. A word of advice? Don’t be afraid to say no, you’re the boss now and everyone wants a piece of you, but they would never go against direct orders, especially if you can get Bo back in shape”

You ask who Bo is “The founder’s guard dog, poor thing’s been wasting away ever since he passed. Don’t be fooled when you see him though, at peak strength he can break through bone, just ask Jean'' Your eyes widen, Berry had mentioned someone in a cast but you just assumed they fell or something, a bit of a silly thought looking back on it but being around that guy was making your fight or flight go off a bit more than usual so you think it’s fair that you weren’t really pondering it before. You ask if this Jean is ok “Oh, yeah, he’s still in the cast but he’s back to doing shoots. Won’t be in the kitchen for a while which has its ups and downs''

You ask how so “Well, up side, I don’t have to deal with him telling me what to do. He’s an alright guy but man is he bossy in the kitchen. The downside is now Berry’s coming to me to pick up the slack, but up side to the down side, he does keep giving me free froyo” You ask him what flavor is his favorite “Oh, well you can’t get it. It’s a special flavor he saves for employees, says he puts his “secret sauce” into it, whatever that means'' You get an odd feeling from the phrase “Berry’s secret sauce” but choose to brush it off for now

You’re about to ask them another question when the front door rings, it’s only now that you realize you’ve been keeping Rory from actually doing their job, though something tells you they don’t mind. You turn to see who walked in only to be met with possibly the largest chest you’ve ever seen, you hear a chuckle and look up to see its source. They’re big, like, Joseph big, how many hulks does this town have? You stutter out an apology and step to the side, telling them you weren’t ordering anything

“Oh, you’re fine, I completely understand. It’s hard not to get roped into conversation with Rory” The way they say Rory sends a shiver down your spine, you can only imagine what it does to them. Well, no, you can see the puddle Rory’s melted into clear as day. Where a confident slightly sassy guy once stood is now a blushing mess. Rory takes a strand of hair between their fingers and starts to twirl it “Hi” You don’t think you’ve ever heard a word filled with more puppy love in your life

The large person leans over the counter and gives Rory a quick kiss, melting the last little bit of composure they had “I’m going to go visit Jean, he just got back from getting his cast readjusted and I thought I’d get him some coffee cake. Wanna come? I’m sure he’d be happy to see you” Rory opens their mouth to respond before their face falls. They sigh “No, I’m the only one here right now and if I close early again Berry might actually kill me” The stranger presses on, kissing Rory’s cheek “Come on, you know I’d never let anyone hurt you” Rory giggles, the kiss on their cheek tilting their head towards you

You suddenly realize that you’ve just been staring at this couple for some time now and you can feel your face getting hot again. You internally smack yourself for just gawking at these two but Rory doesn’t look offended, if anything they look pleased with themself, maybe even enjoying your voyeurism. No, that’s stupid, they’re probably just laughing at you in their head. Why is everyone in this town so hot?

“Oh, what if you take them with you? Jean’s been talking about seeing them again since forever” The stranger looks over to you, giving you a once over “...Who is that?” Rory giggles again “That’s the founder’s kid” The stranger’s eyes widen “Oh, golly, forgive me your grace, I’ve never seen a description of what you look like” You tell them it’s fine and that you look pretty different from what you did all those years ago anyhow “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Sunny Day Jack, but everyone just calls me Jack” You tell them that it’s nice to meet them and give them your name

Rory reaches down into the display case and puts a few pieces of coffee cake into a bag and hands it to Jack, giving them a kiss on the cheek “As much as I’d love you to stay you shouldn’t keep Jean waiting, you know how fussy he gets. I’ll meet up with you after my shift, ok?” Jack leans down and gives Rory a proper kiss, melting them all over again “Alright, can’t wait sunshine. Your grace, would you like to join me?” You nod, unsure of what else to do with your time, and a bit curious about this Jean guy. You swear you remember that name but you can’t quite put a face to it. Jack holds the door for you and you two start to walk to Jean’s house “So, what’s your favorite color?”

================================================

Favorite color? You can’t help but ask them why that’s the first question they ask you “Someone’s favorite color can say a lot about them, and it’s something most people know off the top of their head. It also probably comes from how many kids I meet” You tell them you were wondering why they were so colorful “Oh, well that’s because I’m literally a clown. Though I guess all my bright colors do make me look like I’m from a cartoon, huh?” You two chuckle and you agree with them, saying that they’d make a great action figure

Jack laughs at this “Aww, you’re too kind, I’ll let you know if our merch team ever makes one. I’d love to see you play with me” A shiver runs up your spine as their voice dips into something lower, seductive even, before snapping back to his original tone “How’d you like Rory? He’s pretty great, right?” The tone shift makes your head spin for a second before responding, agreeing that Rory is nice to talk to “Yeah, he’s really sweet when you get to know him, he’d make a great harem member if I might be so bold” You chuckle and ask if he has a harem “Huh? Oh…you don’t know much about what leading the cult entails do you?”

Your face falls, that familiar feeling of anxiety pooling in your stomach. You ask him what he’s talking about “Well, there are a lot of things the leader is expected to do but one thing you’ll have to establish is who gets to be in your harem. People will flock to you once they all know you’re here and all of them want to please you. The harem is a system that makes sure people don’t do something stupid like try to have sex with you in public” You laugh, they don’t

You look at him for a moment before asking if he’s serious “Oh yeah, it was a real problem before the founder established his. If you’re still unsure who you’d like to be in it by week's end just pick someone you’re friends with to hold them off. Though make sure you tell them they’re just there because they're your friend, don’t wanna kill anyone now, do we?” even though you’re both outside in the afternoon sun you feel ice cold, you’d expected weird shit, it is a cult after all, but this is just something else. You can’t even tell if they’re kidding about your rejection killing someone, the way he says it is so flat, like they’re telling you the sky is blue or fire is hot

You tell them you’ll keep it in mind and you start to look around as you try to think of another conversation topic. As you do you notice all the houses look nearly identical, not an uncommon occurrence in neighborhoods to be sure, but it’s more than a little uncanny. Every now and again you see a group of children playing after school, all of them wave at Jack as you pass by. You remember them saying that they talked to a lot of kids and decide to ask them about it

“Oh, I’m the elementary teacher! Though I also do counseling for the older kids. It can be rough going through life alone, I just wanna be there them” It’s only when their voice drops do you realize they’ve been performing this whole time. Their voice has been light, almost bubbly all this time, but in that moment they sound so down to earth, like they really care about these kids. You can’t help but smile

“Oh, here we are!” Their voice regains its bouncy quality as he walks down someone’s driveway “Now, I’ll make sure to tell him who you are but don’t be surprised if he gives you a bit of a death glare when he sees you. Jean��s never been fond of newcomers” You thank them as they knock on Jean’s front door. It takes a minute but eventually the door opens, the man inside looks a bit awkward, having to cross his left arm over to open it. He gives you your warned death glare before it turns to something more confused “Hey Jean, I thought I’d bring you some coffee cake after your readjustment. This is-” Jean’s eyes widen and before they can get it out, Jean says your name

================================================

You finally piece it together, Jean, spoiled bitch Jean. He was always nice to you but it was never really personal, like he didn’t really know what having friends meant. You greet him by name, commenting on how tall he’s gotten. Jean chuckles and welcomes you both in, as you walk inside your mouth starts to water at the smell coming from what you assume to be his kitchen. He holds out his left arm and you go in for a slightly awkward side hug

“It’s so good to finally see you again, how have you been?” You tell him you’ve been good and that it’s nice to see him too. Man, Jean has really changed from when you were kids. Where Ian still has a bit of a baby face Jean looks almost like he was sculpted. Sculpted? Really? One of the first things you point out is how hot your old friend is? Maybe a harem wouldn’t be too bad for you, when was the last time you got laid- “Your grace?” Jack places their hand on your shoulder and you snap out of your little daze

You shake your head slightly and apologize for staring, Jean simply chuckles “Oh, you’re fine. Please, sit” He gestures to his couch, the upholstery having a few claw marks on the armrests but otherwise looking rather new. As you sit down you hear a chirping sound from under the couch. A ball of white fur crawls from underneath the couch before hopping into your lap. Jean opens his mouth but then shuts it, seemingly mulling something over “Uh- Princess, get off there, you’re getting your hair all over them” You laugh and say it’s fine, your hand petting her soft fur

After a second Jean’s eyes widen “Oh, Jack, didn’t you and Shaun have that meeting today?” Jack almost flinches “Oh, shoot, that was today? I better get going then, uh, here’s the coffee cake, goodbye your grace” Jack sets the bag of coffee cake onto Jean’s side table before giving you a small bow. Once Jack leaves Jean closes the door with his back and sits next to you on the couch. You ask for the cat’s name “Huh? Oh, uh, Princess, I said it earlier, remember?” You tell him you remember his folks not letting him have a cat and that once he got one he probably named it out of spite, so, what’s its name? “...I just call her Fucker” You knew it!

Jean laughs “I guess you did, you were always the smart one” He goes to touch your hand but Fucker bats it away before rolling onto her back and purring in your lap. Jean’s face goes from serene to pissed to something bashful all within a few seconds. He sighs “You always did have a way with animals” You thank him, actually, while you’re at it you ask him if he’s still cool with he/him stuff “Yeah, do you go by anything different now?” You tell him your pronouns “Alright, I’ll make sure to pass it on” His tone is full of confidence before seemingly remembering something “I-I mean, if you want me to”

The way he just talked sounded so much like Ian that you could swear he’s making fun of them, but he’s not making any faces or anything so it comes off as oddly genuine. Maybe they hang out now? A lot of time has passed, surely Jean’s bullying has toned down to some extent. You tell Jean there’s actually something you wanted to ask him “Oh? Well, whatever it is I don’t judge. You can tell me anything”

Jean leans forward slightly, looking up at you through batting eyelashes. You tell him that you remember his family being pretty close with your dad and ask if he can tell you anything about what running this place actually means. Jean’s face falls for just a moment before perking up again “Of course I can, I was one of the people closest to the founder before he died, what would you like to know?” You ask about your every day, if there’s a schedule you have to follow

“There’s no strict schedule except for the weekly sermons and any speeches or appearances you have to make” You ask what the sermons are like “A bit bloody if we find a decenter but other than that it’s just us praising your name. Except for the ones at the start of the month, that’s when the founder would make predictions of what would happen during that month” You can feel the blood start to drain from your face. You ask what happens when the predictions are wrong, Jean looks at you like you’ve just admitted to liking pineapple on pizza “They aren’t? They are predictions from our god, they are never wrong. If you’re worried about it, don’t be. You’re our god taken human form, I’m sure your predictions will be the best yet”

You feel like someone just ran up to you and punched you square in the diaphragm, knocking all the wind out of you. Fucker decides you’re not petting her good enough and starts rubbing her face on your shaking hand. You ask what he’s talking about, Jean sighs “That awful woman didn’t tell you anything, did she?” He takes one of your hands in his good one, he starts by saying your name “You are our god incarnate, the one who will raise us from the dark times after our founder fell. You are our future”

It feels like the whole world is slowly spinning around you, your brain desperately trying to make sense of all of this. You can feel your panic start to bubble to the surface, starting in your chest and spreading. You can feel it crawl down your arms and legs and you don’t know where you’re gonna go but you can’t be here-...He’s petting you. The long delicate fingers of Jean’s left hand weave into your hair to scratch your scalp “It’s ok, you’re ok, everything is going to be just fine” He gently places his hand on your left shoulder, moving you to rest your head on his chest

You feel yourself melt slightly, enough of your stiffness leaving you for you to wrap your arms around him “I want you to focus on my voice, ok? It’s just us here, you don’t have to worry about any of that right now. Can you tell me something you can smell” You tell him his cologne, a deep cinnamon mixed with some kind of wood. You can smell the faintest whisper of smoke on him too, it’s nice, complementing his cologne. You also pick back up on the smell from the kitchen, now that you’re focusing on it you can tell it’s some kind of roasted chicken. You breathe out a small laugh as you realize your mouth is watering

“Good, very good. You’re doing such a good job for me” Something about his praise mixed with him petting you like this makes you feel warm. It’s not like the fiery heat of embarrassment you felt earlier in the day, it’s softer, it feels nice, almost too nice. His hand moves down to your back, slowly rubbing up and down, you’re reminded of how you did this for Ian back at the restaurant, did it feel this good for him too? You hardly even know Jean but something about him feels so safe, so familiar in all this chaos. A small chuckle escapes you as Fucker butts her head against your leg, clearly miffed you’re not giving her all your attention

“There you go, just relax into me. You’re so cute like this” His hand slides up a bit higher than before, his thumb brushing the base of your neck. Now that he’s made you focus in on your senses everything just feels so much…bigger than it did a few minutes ago “You know, if you’re this worried about doing a good job, I could help you. Like I said, I was really close with your dad. I could be really close to you too” He leans his head down just a bit, his lips brushing over your ear making you shiver “Or maybe even closer” Jean’s hand moves to your cheek, cupping your face gently. He tilts his head, you can feel his hot breath on your lips and-DING DONG

Both of you damn near jump out of your skin as the doorbell rings. Jean looks to the door, to you, and back to the door. He lets out a groan as he gets up to answer it. He just stands there, knob in hand, for a second to collect himself before opening it “How can I-...oh, it’s you” A deep voice comes from beyond the doorway “It’s meeee!” Jean huffs “What are you doing here? Don’t you have some murder fest to be filming?” The voice chuckles “Well, I did, but then Jack came and told me he was sorry for being late for our meeting that starts a week from now. And after he told me their grace was left here all alone with you? How could not come pay you a visit?”

Jean looks back over to you before trying to close the door, the person from outside easily keeping it open “This is my house, Shaun you can’t just barge in here like this!” Shaun steps inside so you can now properly see how massive they are. They’re not as tall as Jack or Joseph but they seem a bit wider? Not chubby, just wider, maybe it’s bone structure? Maybe it’s Maybelline. Oh shut the fuck up

“Listen, we’re allowed to do whatever is needed if there’s an emergency our leader needs to take care of remember? Or are you going to admit you had no good reason to take the founder away every time I wanted him to review my edits?” Jean stutters on his response “Hey, it’s not my fault the founder was such a good taste tester. What else was I supposed to do? Just feed the public food before it’s perfect? What kind of a man do you think I am Shaun?” Shaun laughs again, they have a good laugh, a deep warm belly laugh, even in this rather tense situation “I’d tell you, but I’d rather not use that kind of language around their grace, speaking of” Shaun turns to you “I wasn’t kidding earlier, there really is something you need to take care of. Mind coming with me your grace?”

================================================

You shake your head, trying to get out of the weird headspace you were just in before agreeing. As you stand from the couch your legs feel like jelly, honestly your whole body feels a bit sluggish after your panic attack. Jean’s eyes fill with fear as you start to walk to Shaun “W-Wait! You can’t go yet, you, um, you haven’t had any tea yet! If you just give me a second I’ll-” You tell Jean you’d love to stay but you can’t if there’s an emergency “Thank you your grace, at least someone here has there head screwed on right”

You’re almost out the door when you turn to say one last goodbye to Jean, he looks dazed, like he’s trying to remember which way is up. You go to ask him if he’s ok but Shaun takes your hand, leading you down the road to wherever this emergency is. You two run down the road for a minute or two before slowing down to a walk. You ask them why you’re slowing down “Well, there is an emergency but you’re gonna need Nick there with you to deal with him. So I figure, why rush? Nick won’t be on set for another fifteen” You ask them why you started running in the first place

“You think I was leaving you in that house? No way in hell. I mean, I’m sure you can handle yourself but new faces are Jean’s specialty. Any longer and I’m sure he’d have convinced you to add him to your harem” Why is everyone talking about your harem? You tell them Jean was just trying to help you after you started panicking “And what made you start panicking?” You were asking Jean questions when he told you were like actually a god and how you were super important and…oh, oh fuck

“Yeah, that’s Jean for ya. Damn snake, he’s got almost the whole town’s pity after his accident too. Don’t worry, anyone that actually knows him knows how fucking awful he is” You ask how many people actually know him, Shaun’s face falls “Not nearly enough” They clear their throat before attempting to lighten the mood “But that’s enough of that, how are you holding up? Today’s probably been a lot huh?” You sigh and agree, you’ve already met so many people, and you’re bound to meet so many more

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, most people around here are in bed by nine so everyone’s already starting to wind down for the day. People don’t fully know you’re here yet so you have until at least tomorrow before shit gets crazy” You ask him about the emergency “Oh, well, yeah ok things are gonna get a little crazy tonight but Bo is pretty low energy these days so…I mean that’s not a good thing, but he’ll be easier to manage”

You ask how Bo’s doing “Well, he’s still kicking, so there’s that” Is that really the best news about him? Shaun sighs “Yeah, poor guy, hasn’t eaten anything since the funeral” You ask how long ago that was “About a week now, Nick’s been able to get him to drink a bit of water but that’s about it” You ask how he’s still alive “The guy’s strong, even like that he’ll still growl at anyone who tries to enter the founder’s room that isn’t Nick. That’s why I’m not sending you in there without him”

You give Shaun your thanks and you two walk in silence until Shaun takes a turn off of the cobble road. You follow his lead and eventually you get to a small filming set over by the forest. Wait, film set, wasn’t- “Hey, Ian, I’m back!” “Oh thank god, Shaun I love you man but you can’t just leave me in charge like…oh” You greet Ian as he realizes you’re there “Uh, hi, hello, how-uh shit how are you?” You give a shrug and tell him you’re fine “Hey, how come you aren’t in costume yet?” Ian sighs “Sorry Shaun but as soon as you left Daniel damn near set the forest on fire with one of the props” “Again? I swear, that kid has got to get it together”

It’s fascinating to see Ian talk to Shaun like this, he’s so casual about it, so fluent. Who is this man and what has he done with your Ian? Wait, your Ian? Ah, shut up shut up! “Hey, thought I’d swing by early. Hope that’s cool”

================================================

You turn to see, well, an e-boy. You don’t mean it in a rude way, that's just the best way you can describe this guy “Nick! Perfect timing, change of plans. I’ll get your opinion on my latest edit later. Do you think you could take their grace to see Bo?” Nick’s eyes light up when Shaun calls you your grace but they otherwise hold their cool expression “Of course, follow me your grace” Nick gives you a little bow before turning to leave “W-Wait, you’re already leaving?”

You turn back to tell Ian you have to go, but you’d love to hang out later “Yeah, and besides we gotta get you into costume if we wanna stay on schedule” Ian visibly relaxes a bit “Oh, ok, I’ll see you later then” You bid them farewell and head off to go see Bo. You two walk in silence for a while when you hear a clinking sound, it’s not metallic, it kinda sounds like if you knocked two pieces of porcelain together. The sound comes from Nick’s pocket and you ask him if that’s his fidget toy

“Hm? O-Oh, yeah…sorry” You tell them it’s fine, whatever helps you get through the day, huh? “Heh, yeah” …Cool, cool cool cool, this conversation is going great. You decide now’s a good a time as ever to ask their pronouns “He/him, you?” You tell him your pronouns “Cool, cool” Very cool, so cool, you’re so very cool right now and definitely not wondering if he hates you, that would be silly…Yeah, ok, this is a bit silly. You’re sure this guy thinks you’re fine, you’re just panicking again. Just breathe. Geez, how many anxiety attacks can a person have in a day? Why can’t that number be zero?

“Hey, are you alright?” You tell him you’re fine, just stressing out over…everything, you guess "Damn, god's relatable" That manages to get a laugh out of both of you "Sorry, I guess I just wasn't expecting that. It's cool though, nice to know I'm not the only nervous one" Wait, he’s nervous? Nick pauses for a second "...I'm seeing god for the first time since I was seven, yeah, I'm a little nervous" He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, and you guess it kind of is. These people think you’re a big deal, it would be weirder if they weren't nervous around you

You tell him that there's no reason to be nervous, you don't bite "Aw, I was looking forward to that" Nick slaps his hand over his mouth "I am…so sorry. I can't turn it off" You laugh and tell him you get it, saying you do stuff like that all the time “Right, thank you your grace, you’re too kind” You want to correct him and say that that’s the normal response but you don’t know if that’s safe. It’s gonna be your job to pretend to be god now, fuck, how are you even gonna do that? Ok, you can question that later, right now you need more info

You ask him about Bo "Oh, yeah, he drank some water yesterday. He's not doing great but I'm sure once he meets you he'll be on the mend. He just needs a new purpose, a new master, I'm sure of it" His reasoning is pretty good but he sounds more like he's trying to convince himself than you. You tell him you're sure he'll be fine, and that it sounds like he's been doing a great job taking care of him. Not everyone's strong enough to take care of a dog like that. You watch his face turn from as pale as porcelain to firetruck red "Huh…thank you your grace"

As you continue to walk your eyes are drawn by the giant fucking house in front of you. Holy shit "Yeah, it's pretty big, huh? You like it?" You shake off your surprise and tell him it's massive "Yeah, don't know how the founder lived there personally. All that space would drive me up the wall" …what?

That's your fucking house? Nick chuckles "What you and the house get up to is none of my business but I'd say so" you're pulled from your bewilderment when you feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up "Well hey there, and here I was thinking you'd never show up" You turn to see Berry who is…right next to you? How did he "We managed to get everything inside but we couldn't bring it into your room with Bo in there"

You thank him and take a half step back to try and get him out of your bubble but he steps with you staying uncomfortably close. You try to look for anything that isn't Berry to focus on when you see Joseph leaned up against the house. You wave over to him to catch his attention, he seems to flinch at your acknowledgement and gives you a meek wave in return "Well it's a good thing you showed up when you did, that mutt probably would have keeled over by tomorrow if you didn't show up"

You hear the clinking of Nick's fidget toy getting louder but he doesn't say anything. You tell Berry Bo sounds like a strong dog and probably could have held out a little longer. You're not sure if you believe yourself on that one but Nick seems to relax as you say it "Huh, if you say so your grace" Nick starts walking towards the house and you follow him, thankful for the out "He might growl at you but as long as I'm here with you he won't bite" Nick opens one of the front doors for you, the heavy thunk it makes as it closes making you wonder if the damn thing was made of stone. You two walk up a flight of stairs and down a hallway before he stops in front of a door, your things neatly stacked next to it

"Ready?" As you'll ever be. Nick opens the door and his voice becomes a bit softer "Hey Bo, how are you feeling?" You hear a growl and then a voice? "Why is he here?" Is there someone in Bo's room? "Huh? Oh, Berry and Joseph were just delivering their grace’s things" You look past Nick to see someone lying on the bed, their voice is dull and hoarse "Their grace? They're here?" Nick opens the door fully and you finally see it, their ears and tail, their voice, the way you can see the bones in their face from here, Bo

He perks up as you say his name “Your grace?” You can tell his energy is low and yet he spends whatever he has left into wagging his tail for you. You have to walk to the other side of the bed to get a proper look at him, he looks sick, pale and boney where you’re sure he was once full of life. You greet him, telling him your name before extending your hand to him to sniff, you see his face drop as he does “Why…why do you smell like him?” You ask who “Berry, I mean, not all the time, but sometimes he smells like that in the mornings” You can feel the blood drain from your face, no, no no no, don’t be silly

You tell Bo you probably just use the same soap or something, does he not like it? “Wha? No I…If it’s yours I like it” It’s only once Nick reenters the room do you notice he ever left, man he’s quiet. You see he’s holding a stick of jerky and ask Bo if he could maybe take a few bites, for you? Nick smiles at you and hands you the jerky “Mhm, I-I can do that…I’ll be good” You hold the jerky up to him as he takes a few bites. You can feel Nick’s excitement radiating off of him as you let Bo eat from your hand. He’s slow, chewing each bite thoroughly before taking another, only eating a bit before he stops

“I’m sorry, I feel so full already” You tell him it’s ok, gently patting his head as you tell him he did such a good job for you. You smile as you hear his tail thumping on the bed behind him “Thank you your grace” You see him start to tear up “Please…don’t go” You cup his cheek with your hand and tell him you’re here to stay, which means he needs to get better for you, deal? He giggles “Deal”

I reread the whole thing and it's still so good!!

#panie-wanie-dean-bean #sunshine #cult town au #cult town main story #so many little things I noticed that I didn't notice before #like the engine looking like it was cut 👀#and Jean looking dazed after Shaun walked in!!!#oughhhhhh this au lives rent free in my brain forever #Moon and I keep talking about how our OCs would be if they were in it and it's so fun!!!

28 notes · View notes

formulatrash · 11 months

Note

hi hazel!

i think it’s been since baku now that we last saw a safety car (i might be wrong, this is off the top of my head). do you think this is because this year’s grid is particularly strong compared to previous years? Or is it just a random coincidence? (because i know f2 didn’t have safety cars either so it could just be something else)

because even through a dry-wet monaco, they managed to make it with no safety cars.

Chris Medland also said something along the lines of that it’s now two out of the last three races where there have been no yellow flags or retirements. Is it also just a testament to the reliability of these cars?

I feel like this would maybe have to affect their strategies as well for the future, that they can’t just wait for a safety car to make a strategy work like teams take into account I would assume since there just seems to be less safety cars in general at a few tracks now.

Could all just be a fluke but still, its just that it’s quite noticeable enough that you start to question it in your head.

mmm, yeah, it's a good question. Bernd Maylander getting bored these days. Nico Hulkenberg actually commented on it on his in-lap after today's race ("We don't get many Safety Cars these days, no?") and it's definitely striking that there weren't any in Monaco and only one in Jeddah.

2020 and 2021 had a lot of safety cars. 2022 had a fair number of them, too. obviously if I was a dude on YouTube I'd say something about Nicholas Latifi having left but since we're somehow the more reasonable end of things on Tumblr, I don't think it's anything to do with the field.

reliability is definitely something teams have been working on up and down the grid. Alfa Romeo have taken a huge step backwards this year, in terms of pace but their car now reliably finishes races rather than catching fire in P7. Red Bull's gremlins from the start of the 2022 season seem to have been eliminated. Ferrari's car is extremely unpredictable but seems to do whatever it is it does from the start to the end of the race.

the only car with mechanical problems seems to be the McLaren but even they've got a better grip on them relative to the start of the season. sudden, dramatic failures are happening less, at least for now - by the end of the season that might change, as parts are under more stress.

what definitely has changed is that teams do not want their drivers to risk crashes. Q1 in Spain was actually fairly unusual for the number of drivers who actually or nearly binned it, lately. even last year drivers were coming pretty spectacular croppers relatively regularly but this year you'll notice them backing out of maneuvers if there's a collision on the cards.

if they break their car, there's a direct consequence in upgrades. every crash limits the development and most teams are desperate for development. rebuilding cars is costly but also has a knock-on effect of needing to manufacture new spares or losing new parts; consider the scrapbooked carbon fibre assembly Merc strapped onto their cars last race; there just isn't the money to worry about making it pretty.

re-fashioning a developed part takes less time than upgrading to a new one. but the time that part is being moulded and machined and baked will be time that nothing else can be. and it all costs money. so drivers are under serious orders not to break anything; if you're McLaren and holding on for possibly Austria, possibly Silverstone upgrades you can't risk pushing that back.

outside of mixed conditions, like in Q1 or the rookies being rookies, drivers are protecting their cars. some of them (Lando, Lewis) are relatively un-crash-prone anyway but drivers like George and Charles haven't mysteriously lost their enthusiasm for pushing over the limit, they've been told to rein it in or risk losing an improvement.

there's something to this year's grid being fairly uniformly sensible about that, without any real on-track hazards but there's something more to it when it comes to racing.

a lot of people have noticed the racing feels bad this year. there's more overtaking than previously but it just seems flat. that's because the field is very spread out for a lot of the races. I'd need to get some data and do my best Brrrake impression to prove this conclusively but a lot of cars are having very lonely races, especially in the points-paying positions and even more so the further up those you get.

as a consequence the exciting battles are tending towards being for P16 or something, which isn't worth wrecking your car for. when there's a big speed difference cars aren't fighting, even if that's two that are on the same pace but one has fresher tyres. a lot of the moves that count as overtakes are more the on-track consequences of undercut/overcut and so there's no extended, risky, defence-attack sequence.

#f1 asks

16 notes · View notes

masivechaos · 2 years

Text

COFFEE LOVER- Chapter one: new habits

remus lupin x gn! reader

Request: yes / no

Synopsis: Remus had just moved in and new neighbourhood means new habits

Warning/content: modern/muggle au!, just fluff, my English, lmk if i missed any

a.n.: 2.2k words- so excited for this!! but also scared, feel like i rushed this chapter but the series is more focused on their relationship (and other things you'll find out) than their meeting so hope you'll still like it reblogs really help me!

masterlist/ marauders masterlist / navigation / chapter two

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.───･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

You were in a complete rush. Customers came and left without stopping, there was an issue with some delivery and for the final touch, your employee needed to stop earlier because of some problem you didn’t bother trying to understand.

“Hello, what can I do for you?” you said mechanically, not looking up as you wiped the counter when you felt someone stepping into the shop, it was around five in the afternoon and was the most crowded hour. You finally lifted your eyes to find a tall man with sandy hair standing on the other side.

He shook his head “Um…” he looked around him, trying to find where the different orders were written. When he failed his gaze found yours again.

“Just- Do what you want” he smiled apologetically for taking so much time. Your heart missed a beat, his voice? Butterflies immediately made their way to your stomach when he pronounced the first word.

You then grinned, you loved this type of order even though it’s just he forgot what he really wanted.

You turned your back to him, the stupid smile still on your face, you had to admit he was quite handsome. You bit on your lip as you poured the coffee into a large carton cup.

You then added milk and were ready to hand it to him but considered adding a little something. You took foam milk and the coffee with the other hand, tilting it a little.

You poured the foam, creating a little drawing at the top. It was the basic heart barista knew but it still made its effect every time.

Okay, you also choose to draw a heart because you found the customer kind of cute but at worst he’d just be completely oblivious and drink his coffee without looking at it.

When you gave the customer his drink he still had this flustered expression on his face and you found it adorable. Maybe he was finding you cute too?

You snapped out of your thoughts as he asked you how much it cost. He paid and you found yourself staring at his hands when he pulled out his credit card.

Before leaving he just offered you a smile from the corner of his lips “What did you make?” You chuckled as you cleaned your workspace “A simple latte, the drawing is the little prime” you sent him a wink.

He just stared at you until another customer walked into him “Oh- sorry” he apologized before really leaving. The stranger was locked in your mind for the rest of the day, you were hoping he’d come back soon.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

The next day, around the same hour, you found the same man walking into the shop. But as your coworker was ready to take his order you came by his side “Don’t worry I got this” you smiled at him.

He gave you a weird look but let you so you didn't care. “Hello!” you greeted the customer, all happy to find him. He chuckled at your excitement but you could tell he was happy too.

“What can I do for you?” you asked softly, suddenly feeling intimidated by the way he was looking at you, more confident than the day before.

He thought for a second before answering “The same as yesterday” he offered you a shy smile that made your heart melt inside your chest.

You prepared the same order but changed the little foam drawing, this time it was a swan with a little heart above it.

When you handed him the cup and he saw what you made his smile widened. He looked up at you with an expression you couldn’t describe.

He had a small smile on his very kissable lips, his brown eyes were wide and his eyebrows were slightly raised. “Thank you for…” he pointed at the foam and you shrugged “You’re welcome, I love making these”

His lips tucked down, now a lopsided smile was on his face as he saw how excited you were at the idea of a foam artwork.

“Well I hope I’ll have a different one every day” he smiled. Your mouth slightly opened ‘every day’? It meant he’d come back every day!

You needed to calm down a bit, it was only the second time you saw him, you didn’t even know his name. Yes, he was attractive but it shouldn’t be enough.

He left and you dreamily stared at him. Your employee coughed and you turned your head “You’re okay Sam?” his jaw was slightly tensed.

“Yeah” he took a deep breath “He’s handsome right?” he said through grounded teeth. Your mouth opened in shock Sam was jealous?

You frowned “What’s the matter?” he shrugged but you could see the anger in his eyes “Sam, you know I hired you? You have no right to act like this”

He gave you a final glance before getting back to work. You contained yourself from smiling, not that the idea that he was maybe jealous pleased you but you felt a certain satisfaction as you saw him wipe a table, his fingers grasping at the tea towel, knuckles turning white.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

After a week and a half of the stranger coming every day, after a week and a half of innovating foam artwork and latte, small glances and shy smiles you decided to ask his name. He probably knew yours since you had a little badge with ‘Y/n’ written on it along with your pronouns but maybe he just didn't dare call you by your name.

You handed him his cup with this time a flower drew in the coffee. When you checked everything since he also took a strawberry muffin and gave him the bill you made sure he was looking at you.

“We have a little rule here” you started, watching as he raised his eyebrows. “When our customers are coming every day we have to know their name”

He smiled at you “Really?” you let out a laugh “No. That’s just a subtle way to ask your name” you grinned as you fixed your apron.

He laughed “I’m Remus” Oh that was a memorable name but it suited him so well “I like your name Remus” you smiled warmly.

“I’m-” you started but he cut you off “Y/n. You have a pretty name” you must’ve looked like a blushing mess at the moment as you thanked him before he left.

A few days passed and you both talked more and more, that is how you learned he had just moved in and saw your coffee shop and ‘was hooked by the shop window’ and was coming to grab his coffee after work.

Remus had a great sense of humour and you both got along. You learned you had a lot in common.

“So what do you for a living?” you asked as you wiped a table so Remus could sit. He set down his coffee and cinnamon roll and took a seat before answering “I’m a literature teacher”

You ‘ooo’ed while sitting next to him, you had a tiring and it finally calmed down so you allowed yourself this break, Sam could handle it alone.

He took a bite of the cinnamon roll “As much as I love teaching, my dream would be to sell a book” your eyes widened, God was he perfect?

“You write?” you asked impressed and he nodded “Yeah, that’s why the coffee. Need to stay up” he chuckled. You laughed too and you both continued to talk.

He told you he was writing a dark mystery novel and you weren’t surprised. He screamed dark mystery with his big sweater, beige pants and coffee. He narrated to you the synopsis and you listened in awe, biting your bottom lip.

“I want to read it when it’s done” you gave him a smile and he offered you one in return “You’ll be the first one to read it I promise”

You both stopped talking to stare into the other’s eyes. But at the same moment, you heard someone clearing his throat, you turned your head to find Sam standing behind you “Can you help me?” he showed some customers with his thumb.

You grabbed his notebook with a pen and wrote your phone number before sighing “I have to leave you Remus”

When you came home you had the nice surprise to receive a text from Remus. You both talked for as long as you could, until he had to write and you had to sleep.

:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

On Monday, Remus was wearing a brown suit with a white shirt. He came hands in the pocket and seemed relaxed and he recieved a heart on his coffee. On Tuesday, he was very handsome. With his black pairs of jeans and green sweater. He ordered a chocolate chip cookie with his usual latte which had flowers drew on with the foam. The next day he was happy, all smiley and you were in a rush so you only made him a little smiley face.

About two weeks later, Remus stepped into the shop with dark circles under his eyes. He looked like shit. “You’re okay?” you asked as you prepared yourself to make his coffee but he stopped you. “It will be black coffee today”

You huffed “Bad day?” and he nodded. You grabbed a cup with a sharpie and turned your back so he couldn’t see what was happening. You wrote on the carton mug It’s gonna be okay, have a nice week rem! - Y/n with a little heart beside.

You handed him the cup and he instantly blushed when he read the note “Thank you” he smiled as he stared at the ground. Your heart couldn’t help but melt at the sight of Remus with pink cheeks avoiding your eyes.

He sat at a table, today he came later than usual and he stayed until the closing of the shop, which meant… he stayed two hours. Two hours during which you stopped yourself from staring at him every time you could.

When you were done working you took a seat next to him. You haven’t told him you were going to close the coffee house since he was so focused on whatever he was writing on his laptop, maybe he was working on his novel.

You set your own cup down “Are you okay?” you asked and Remus tore his eyes away from his screen “Yeah” you furrowed your eyebrows, clearly seeing he was lying. You brought your hand to his, brushing your thumb on his skin.

He looked down “Writer’s block. I need to progress but I just can’t” he glanced back at you with a sad smile “Thank you again for the note, I appreciate it”

“I need to close the shop but if you are writing now I can wait” his smile grew bigger “No it’s fine, I’m going to be fine”

You both got up and Remus waited for you as you closed the shutter. “Can I walk you home?” you were cut off guard by his question “O-oh well I have my car b-” Remus cut you “I have my driving license, please let me bring you back. You let the shop open later for me, I owe you this”

You didn’t insist and you both drove, a comfortable silence settled the entire time. “There” you pointed at your flat and Remus pulled over. You turned, facing him, when you were in front of your building’s door “Well it’s here” your heart was beating fast, hammering against your chest. He was so close to you.

You stayed in front of each other, you didn’t want to leave each other. After a few minutes you walked to your flat. By instinct, you looked by the window to find Remus standing on the sidewalk.

He smiled when he saw you, you opened the window and leaned on the barrier. “Hi!” you waved and he reflected your motion. “I need to go but see you tomorrow!” he told “Text me when you’re home!” you said as he started to walk away.

He gave you a thumbs-up and you blew him a kiss. He shook his head with a smile before leaving for real and you stared at him until he was just a little dot.

You closed the window and sighed contently. As you thought about which artwork you could do tomorrow, your phone buzzed in your pocket. It was Remus.

‘I’m home. See you tomorrow, lil barista’ your lips instantly extended into a soft smile and you rolled your eyes. It was true, Remus loved to tease you about your height. But ‘I’m not this short, you’re just unnecessarily tall’ you always liked to say and that’s what you replied. He didn’t take long before texting back.

‘Yeah yeah. You’re just in denial. Anyways hope I’ll get a big loving heart on my coffee tomorrow' you blushed as you read the text, you threw your phone on the sofa and buried your head in a pillow. You never were more excited to go to work.

129 notes · View notes

button-kin-games · 2 months

Text

Development Diary: Jude's World, Part 6

Last time I shared three problems I was having with my in-development solo, tarot-based TTRPG about a plucky preteen protagonist struggling to reunite their warring parents. This month let’s talk about how I solved those problems and discovered a bunch more in the process. Because hey, that’s play testing!

The first problem I had with my previous draft was that I didn’t feel that I knew enough about my protagonist to be invested in them before I started writing their journal. I decided to expand the relationship building mechanic I’d created to flesh out their parents’ love story — a tarot spread with questions tied to each position — to instead cover the history of the whole family unit. I swapped out some of the questions about Mika and Jamie (Jude’s parents) for some about Jude’s early childhood. I still might change a couple of the questions or rephrase them, but on my next play through I felt much more at home with Jude’s perspective and personality without losing too much of the attachment that I’d previously found myself developing towards their parents’ relationship. Which is good, since the latter is something we spend the game digging into.

The second problem I had was that I didn’t feel like there was enough “structure” around the storylines I had for Jude, which were intended to balance the Traps and provide Jude with perspective and character growth. This was related to a third problem I had, which was that storylines didn’t really connect with anything else mechanically in the game. As well as being harder and less fun to engage with than the Traps they were highly skippable.

I solved both of these by switching out the four-part storyline arcs I spent so long on in my first draft (sigh) for one-liner “Changes” tied to each major arcana in the standard tarot deck. Going through a Change gives Jude boost to a new stat: Teen. Mechanically a high Teen score will make Jude’s Traps more reliably successful. Narratively I think this makes sense. In theory the more you mature the better you understand the human heart. Changes range from moving schools to having your first crush, to attending your first protest. They’re a mixture of good and bad milestones intended to create drama that is focussed on Jude, rather than drama that’s all about their parents.

I’ve completed my fourth play test now and I’m really pleased with these alterations. I feel like some magic is starting to happen. Of course now there’s a new batch of things to think about.

Problem 1: Marking Scars can get heavy fast

When Jude sets up a Trap for their parents and it fails on a roll of the dice, we mark a Scar. Narratively this means that their parents leave the situation less pleased with each other than before and Jude discovers something concerning about their relationship. This is all good and intentional, but what Jude finds out is up to the player, and it can be tempting to go heavy right away.

In my last play through Jude ended up inviting one of their parents’ exes to a party in an attempt to make the other jealous (what can I say? The cards made me do it.) This backfired spectacularly and resulted in marking a Scar. I found myself written into a corner where it made most sense for Jude to discover a history of sexual jealousy, perhaps even adultery in their parents’ relationship. This was only the second Trap of the game and, if I’d played on, I still wonder how I could’ve squared this knowledge with Jude’s continued efforts to bring these two back together. This needs a little softening.

I want to try wrapping a heart to heart with one or both of Jude’s parents into these moments. Something to provide a little closure and context from those characters’ perspectives. I think this will be a good course correct for the tone and it’s in keeping with the tropes of the teen media this game draws a lot from.

Problem 2: Every single thing is high stakes

The Traps are dramatic. They’re balanced by big Changes in Jude’s life. Where’s the episode where Jude goes to the cinema with their friends? Where are the sleep overs? Heck, where’s the never ending boredom I remember from pre-teendom? I’m thinking of adding some kind of hijinks table for some in-between diary entries to round out all the drama.

Problem 3: So. Many. Prompts.

Every mechanic in this game — the Traps, the Changes, you name it — generates at least one prompt for a diary entry. Right now the prompt generation phase and the writing phase are a bit jumbled up. The flow of play isn’t right yet and I’m conscious that there’s currently a lot to hold in one’s head between diary entries. And if I, the person most intimately familiar with the rules of this game, am feeling that then I can only imagine the tangle a new player could get into. I need some kind of system to help players hold on to Jude’s various life events until they’re ready to write about them. The good news is I love organising things. The bad news is I’m stumped for the minute about how to go about this. I don’t want to get that structure wrong and add yet more complexity, but it definitely needs… something. The clouds will part at some point, I’m sure.

So, there you have it. Things to work on for play test five. After which my ambition is to start showing the game to more people. Games can only grow so much confined inside one skull. Like trees. Or goldfish. Help me nourish a mighty koi! If you’re interested in being a play tester go ahead and contact me through any of my socials or by email at [email protected].

#indie ttrpg #ttrpg #ttrpg dev #ttrpg stuff

3 notes · View notes

inventors-fair · 10 months

Text

How the Story Goes: This Week's Winners ~

Our champions this week are @curiooftheheart, @izzet-always-r-versus-u, and @squeezyboi!

@curiooftheheart — Guildpact Ascension (Maze’s End)

This may come as a shock to some people, but in my personal MTG history, Maze’s End was my first “bad” set. And I got a booster box of it with a friend in high school. So...yeesh. All the same, it’s a relief to see the culmination of the set in a major way, i.e. with a card that’s pretty awesome. Mechanically, I won’t call it ‘self-explanatory,’ but I will say that it’s pretty easy to tell what kind of deck it wants to see itself in, and that two-color goodstuff is indeed still good. I would personally word the middle ability slightly differently but your modern sensibilities are definitely stronger than mine because I was thinking of Future Sight as precedent—and they fixed the oracle text! Wow.

All the same, this card’s a pretty iron-clad representation of Jace’s grasp as the Living Guildpact. It’s a mono-blue card, yeah, but it’s how Jace interacts with Ravnica, and the best ways for him to bring the guilds together. He sees everything (ability 1), he has a magical ability to summon the guilds as he sees them (ability 2), and the bringing-together of the guilds creates that much more power in the best way Jace knows how (ability 3). So yeah! It’s pretty darn great. Someone’ll have a fun time with Niv-Mizzet Reborn Gates EDH and this.

@izzet-always-r-versus-u — From Out of Eternity (Invasion of New Phyrexia)

I’m astounded at how clean this card is. If Battles didn’t exist and there were a bunch of weird mechanics that were in its place, this would be the perfect representation of Zhalfir’s return and the battlefield’s representation of that massive incoming. Teferi who? The phasing, the explosive combat, the implications of the attack, all of it is easy to grok and easy to connect. The flavor text’s simplicity does exactly what it wants to and the name is absolutely kick-ass.

As soon as I saw this card, I knew it was a great example of how to do simplicity well. At the very least this can be played on the end step to make something unblockable, but it prevents clogged board states, it changes the way combat works if you want to declare some shenanigans then phase them, it’s a card you pick and then build around without having to force UW control, it stops boardwipes and sweepers—and it requires you to have the army in order to really pull it out, and that’s something this card makes the player want to do. It’s just so easy without being overpowered or convoluted. It’s Zhalfirin and climactic in a way that MOM wishes it could’ve been.

@squeezyboi — Attack of the Mage Hunters // Professor’s Protection (Mage Hunter’s Onslaught)

I looked at my notes, then at this card, then back at my notes, and then here again, and I found myself realizing that yes indeed, this is exactly the kind of assignment I was thinking of. You took a story moment, moved it out of time, and used a future mechanic to that moment to retell it from the opposite perspective. Like, what more can one ask for? Battles aren’t quite supported on MSE, I don’t think, hence the lack of a mockup (sorry!) but all the same, I find myself hard-pressed to find criticism aside from the fact that the text might be kinda cramped.

I really like the anti-wizard sweep as well as the cool anti-Mage Hunter’s Onslaught that happens on the flip side. That professorial quote almost makes Lorehold cool again! ... I kid, Quintorius does that already. He’s a nice lad. Casting spells to weaken the siege feels awesome, and getting to a point where you’re overwhelming the board is pretty awesome. Exiling to get spirits without having to worry about getting burned out? Heck yeah. Spoils of the Vault is too far a combo for the flipside to matter too much and nobody’s going to Thoracle that, anyway. If they’re not playing burn, you get to just make your army, after having swept them away, and then the school is safe once more. Fantastic job bringing this out of the woodwork. Quite unexpected.

Woo! Runners-up and commentary to follow. —@abelzumi

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #storytelling change contest #winners #commentary #inventor's fair

10 notes · View notes

bacchia · 1 year

Text

What do you not understand?

~ pick a pile ~

Choose whichever speaks to you in its wholeness. Look at the pictures, inhale their meaning and take the one resonating with you the most. Best if you can’t seem to grasp why.

We will talk about what you don’t understand currently, the mechanisms behind and what you can do about it.

Pile 1 - black dark heavy curtain

This pile was the most confused I would say. And it’s quite understandable. You can’t seem to know where to set your priorities. You set your plans, start a new project, but your ideals are still from the old. You’re really hardworking, but you’re hard work isn’t paying off, because you take too much upon yourself. The opportunities and hopes you have and see are burdening you, your so hard set on getting this harvest, but the bad harvest from the past is holding you in a headlock. It’s a harsh contrast for you which you feel stuck between - the past and the future. You tend to run to others to run away from your fears, which only confirms them.

Your intuition is blocked. You know what is earnest good and right in your heart - your past taught you this. Not everything that glitters is gold. This is and was a very important and great discovery for you. But hey, sometimes gold can glitter. Not everything that glitters is not gold. You have so much energy in you. Don’t see this as a failure. Don’t let your mind get blocked. Try to sit with these new feelings the next time something doesn’t go as planned. I promise you it will become better over time because you will learn to sit through feelings of failure - and that’s what they are. Sit with the mysteries of life. Tend to yourself for a bit. Being hard working means also having a good balance is absolutely necessary.

I’m really sorry if this pile is a bit confusingly written. It was very confusing for me as well. It’s the most unclear reading for me from these three lol. But also with very specific messages. Thought of the song borderline from tame impala.

Pile 2 - hands, hidden thumb

Your image. You’re appearing really insecure in this situation. You don’t see how your viewed by everyone - you have might my lovelies! Might and a strong Aura! You’re really impressing someone here…this is a heart matter with someone, you want to be closer with a person. The cards could be interpreted as a romantic connection traditionally, but please don’t feel yourself pressured to seeing this as a love interest. However the circumstances are, it feels like you were fighting for something, for recognition, for freedom, personal freedom and self determination. You fought for showing yourself the way you are. This fight could be fully internal, but it’s showing outside no matter what. It has made you focus on small things, or more, benign things - it was a major thing and had its toll on you. Maybe you doubted yourself, maybe you were doubted by others…but oh boy, this makes the ending even more sweeter because you won’t be seeing it at all, it will take you by surprise how everything changed for the better. You will not see it because you don’t understand the unexplainable in the plain.

Are you not comfortable maybe with the affection shown towards you? I got the feeling you don’t want to do something g stupid or f*vlt things up so you try to do nothing. You want to, but your self esteem didn’t really flourish. But this is a confirmation that you have nothing to worry about. This connection is already secured. What you need to do is step in to the person you’ve become. Claim the energy you fought so much for. Take the initiative. Talk in good favor for yourself and the other persons. Don’t worry. Everything will fall into place. It will feel quite exhausting and emotional for you, but you will feel so delighted and cared for afterwards. This is much much less complicated than you think.

Pile 3 - a chest bound in gold and silvery

TW for Trauma. I will speak very directly and if you can’t do this right now, feel free to skip. My heart goes out to you.

You don’t understand the violence you inhibit. My lovelies. I’m very sorry for the tragedy that has happened to you. You seem very overwhelmed by it. The worst is over, in fact it is all over, but not for you. You can’t heal. You’re scared. I understand. You have walls to protect you, but these also hold intact many tactics and maneuvers to hurt people to hold you as the way you are. Damage control. You don’t understand how stiff you have become and how tyrannical you are behaving in a certain situation. It seems like it’s regarding another person. Who was involved In all of this, directly or indirectly, this is not important. You’re being emotionally immature, using the openness of the other person to hurt them bc to you it’s still a war, an evil war you need to protect yourself with all might. Manipulation based on fear. Trust is good, control is better. But also a incredibly high amount of trauma looming. I get it. This person is Someone you call family and/or home in your heart.

You may already feel it, but this will not end the way you want it to be. This can mean many things. Based on what you wanted. Because, you say many things in passion, in anger, in your feelings but how will it go? Where is the plan? Could you tell me the details?

What do you want, pile 3? You don’t know. That’s totally okay. But you’re also projecting much on this person, which is unfair. Distance yourself from this - take whatever it means to not remind yourself of it. I know. I know. I hated it as well. It feels cruel, like you’re scorned. What you need right now is to know what you want. And focus on that. Not obsessively, but with a grudge towards someone in your heart - no! What do you want and how can you achieve it and how do you want to achieve it? And believe me, once you refocus yourself, healing will be around the corner very soon…it will be hidden but a sweet sweet and lovely surprise to you. Faster than you think.

#tarot #tarot witch #tarot cards #pac #pac reading #pick a picture #witch community #witchblr #wicca #tarot reading #astrology #astro community #tarotcommunity

22 notes · View notes

crissiebaby · 11 months

Text

The Padded Palace Act III: Chapter 7

DISCLAIMER: This story contains diaper usage, crossdressing, inappropriate language, humiliation, masturbation/diaper sex, and other ABDL themes. Be sure to check out the link in the description if you need to start all the way back from the first chapter in Act I! I hope you enjoy!

-------------------------------------------------------------

*DING!*

Arriving on the hotel's sixth floor, Latasha’s heart began to race as she gazed upon the long stretches of plastic-covered floors and walls, ensuring no stains would be left behind after the convention. Before long, this hallway, along with the rest of the hotel and convention center, would be swarming with Littles, Bigs, and diaper lovers alike. There was truly nothing else quite like it within the greater ABDL community; a chance for those with diaper fetishes to relax and be themselves around thousands of other people just like them away from judgemental eyes.

“Watch your step, Skye. The plastic wrap can be a bit grabby,” said Latasha, guiding Skye through the maze of hallways until they arrived at the door to room 616. Waving her key card over the card reader, her grin grew wider upon hearing the internal mechanisms of the door unlocking, accompanied by a small green light blinking next to the handle. Excited to dive into the day’s festivities, she threw the door open to their new digs for the next three days, “Home sweet home!”

The hotel suite was simple with all the basics that one might expect to find while traveling. There was a king bed, a tv, a mini-fridge, and, because Latasha had sprung for the deluxe suite, her room also came with a couch and a coffee table. “Not bad. Certainly better than the motel we got stuck in last time,” said Latasha, snickering at her past failure to secure a hotel room on-site.

Throwing herself onto the bed, Skye let the hours of sitting in a car seat sink into her weary back. She may have been a baby but she was still an adult so a stiff back was nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, the aches and pains she felt from daily life often pushed her to act even more babyish around Latasha.

*BZZZ! BZZZ!*

Rotating her head and resting her cheek on the bed, Skye’s attention was pulled to the buzzing sound in Latasha’s pocket. She watched curiously as her Mommy took out her phone and chuckled before tapping away while subconsciously mouthing the words of her message. Having seen Mommy’s texting face before, she easily connected the dots of what Latasha was up to. “Who chus texin?” she asked, rolling over onto her side and squelching her moist padding between her legs.

“An old gal pal from back in college. She’s actually the one who got me into the Mommy business in the first place. She wants to meet up for a little bit today,” said Latasha, looking up from her phone screen at the sound of Skye’s shifting diaper, “Alright, soggy butt, what do you say we head downstairs and get you changed into a fresh diaper?”

Groaning, Skye flopped onto her back, gripping the comforter and swaddling herself up in the process. “Buh I wansa naaaaaap! Cans chus jus change me into one of dose?” she said, pointing to the bags filled with unopened AB supplies.

Gritting her teeth and glancing back at her phone, Latasha wasn’t sure what to do. They’d just got to the hotel and she was eager to get downstairs to the convention hall. She briefly considered the idea of putting Skye down for a nap before running down to take a quick peek at the convention space. However, the idea of Skye waking up and getting scared before she got back made that idea a non-starter. “How about this? I’ll get your stroller ready to go. That way you can catch some Z’s while I tour CrissCon a little. Is that okay with you?” she said, hoping to coerce her Little into doing what she wants, “I promise to buy you something special from the vendor’s hall.

Scrunching up her face, Skye didn’t want to be stuck trying to nap in such a noisy location. If the main convention space was anything like the check-in area, it was going to be an endless cacophony of voices invading her personal space. Though, as she looked into Latasha’s pleading eyes, she felt guilty over the idea that she would be forcing her Mommy to stay cooped up with her for an hour or so. Reluctantly relenting, she responded, “O-Okie, Mommy.”

Clapping her hands together, Latasha immediately got to work unpacking the folded-up stroller and getting it set up. “We’re gonna have so much fun together. Just you wait,” she said, unaware of the grimace that Skye was wearing.

-------------------------------------------------------------

“...3, 2, 1! Ready or not, here I come!” shouted Connor, sighing with relief after finishing one hundred straight seconds of counting as demanded by Stacy, Riri, and Ellie. Looking around the nursery, he made sure none of Little’s were trying to pull a fast one by hiding in spawn. Thankfully, the nursery didn’t have too many places to hide behind, with the biggest hiding spot being the pile of stuffed animals, “Oh, dear! I do hope no one is hiding in such an inescapable position.” He wasted no time tearing into the pile, finding no signs of human life anywhere.

*CREEEEEEK!*

Connor may have struck out with the stuffies but his luck was already changing as the distant sound of a door squeaking entered his ears. He couldn’t tell if the door was opening or closing from inside the nursery but he was able to deduce that it came from somewhere over by the laundry room and kitchen. Tossing the plushie in his hand to the wayside, he slinked out of the nursery and tiptoed around the corner, peeking inside the living room briefly before moving through the hallway to the kitchen.

“Alright, nowhere to go, you little munchkins!” said Connor, unaware of how effortlessly it was for him to fall into a playful state of mind. In truth, growing up an only child had limited the number of chances he had to play group games like this. As such, his desire to throw himself into a game like hide and seek wholeheartedly was impossible to overcome.

Leaping in front of the door to the laundry room, Connor stomped hard with both feet, making a thunderous boom. “Fe-fi-fo-fum! I smell the…diaper of a Little one!” he said, stopping himself short of saying “blood” as the old fairytale quote did. Entering the laundry room, he quickly deduced where someone might be hiding as the door to the garage was left slightly ajar, “Shoot. Probably should’ve made the garage off-limits.”

Not wanting to end the game prematurely, Connor decided to push forward into the garage, making a mental note to set this boundary before the start of the next round. Nudging open the garage door, the same, terrible creek emitted from the aging hinges, letting him know he was definitely on the right track. As he stepped down onto the cement floor of the empty garage, it didn’t take him long to spot a green hood with a pair of lopsided eyes sticking out from behind the pair of trash cans. “Oh, dear, maybe I was wrong…I don’t see how anyone could find a place to hide in here,” he said sarcastically, inching closer and closer to Ellie’s hiding spot with every word.

Unfortunately, as Connor moved within striking range, his foot came in contact with a lone candy wrapper that had fallen short of making it into the garbage can. This gave Ellie just enough of an advance to leap backward just as Connor was reaching across the bins to touch her head. “Eeeek!” she shouted before sprinting to the garage door. Connor tried to grab her but she was just fast enough to outflank him, rushing past him just in time, “I nod it yet!”

“What are you talking about? It’s hide and seek and you’ve been seeked!” said Connor, throwing his hands up without giving chase. In his mind, Ellie was already caught so he shouldn’t have to waste his breath re-capturing her.

Ellie, however, had a set of far different rules in mind. “Nuh-uh! Ish hide an seek tag!” she shouted, sticking her tongue out before running toward the greater part of the house.

“We never established this!” yelled Connor, sighing as he knew his words fell on deaf ears. Pushing the trash cans back into their proper spots, he casually walked toward the garage door, knowing that Ellie was too far away at this point to race after. Not like it mattered. If her next hiding spot was as bad as her first, she’d stick out like a sore thumb.

“They’re tricking you.”

“Gah!” shouted Connor, leaping back and nearly losing his footing as Riri, who was standing in front of the laundry machine with a solemn look on her face, “Riri! You startled me. D-Did you get bored of the game?” he said, too busy catching his breath after getting jump-scared by a short girl in a purple nightie to process what she had just told him.

Looking down at the floor, Riri repeated what she’d previously said without the faintest hint of Littlespeak, “They’re tricking you. Ellie’s supposed to run around and keep you occupied downstairs.” She pursed her lips at the end of her sentence and grabbed the front of her nightie, her anxiety over ratting out her friends on obvious display, “I overheard them…before we started the game.”

Taken aback by this new piece of information, Connor furrowed his brow line as he looked up from Riri toward the rest of the house. “Tell me where Stacy is,” he said, his voice devoid of the playful energy he’d started their little game with.

TO BE CONTINUED…

« PREVIOUS l FIRST l NEXT »

-------------------------------------------------------------

Heyyo! Can't wait until next week for more Padded Palace!? Subscribe to my Patreon, where you can get early access to main series chapters like this one, as well as exclusive content you won't find anywhere else! Join my dollhouse at patreon.com/crissiebaby!

Edited by AllySmolShork

#diaper art #diaper stories #crissiebaby #little space #ab/dl #ab/dl stories #ab/dl art #ab/dl sissy #diaper sissy #sissybaby #diaper humiliation #md/lg #dirty diaper #diaper messy #wetting diaper #crissbabydiaperco #the padded palace #thepaddedpalace

9 notes · View notes