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#also thank you very much for the kind words
alvojake · 2 days
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i need tattoo artist jungwon and reader is his client, also his ex-girlfriend
「notes」 : thank you, anon, for blessing my inbox with this beautiful request because it left me thinking of tatted jungwon for days 😵‍💫
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Inked Hearts | Y.JW
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「paring」 : tattoartist!exbf!jungwon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 4.9k
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「synopsis」 : it has been a few months since you and jungwon had a huge fight resulting in you breaking up; though things ended poorly, you still craved his touch. then you realize that you still have a tattoo appointment with him, dreading it. you just decide to push his buttons, not fully expecting it to end with you bending over the bed.
「genre」 : smut
「warning」 : cussing, biting/marking, fingering, begging, choking, slight hair pulling, size kink, dom!jungwon x sub!reader, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy), orgasm denial, edging, slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampie, manhandling, petnames (babydoll, baby...), the reader is a brat, clit play, teasing, rough sex, both the reader and jungwon are kinda toxic, public(ish) sex, bulge kink, lmk if I missed anything!
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It had been almost a month and a half since you and Jungwon had broken up over a petty little argument that some jealous girl in the club started. All because she couldn’t get Jungwon to budge when hitting on him. So what does she do? She spills her drink all over your outfit, then gets one of her guy friends to ‘help’ clean it up. All while making sure Jungwon was watching the whole time, this guy not so discreetly put his hands all over your chest.
The whole thing resulted in Jungwon yanking you away from Mr. Handsey and blowing up right outside of the club. He didn’t give you even a chance to explain what had happened, which only pissed you off. So you ended up yelling right back at him, embarrassed and hurt that he didn’t even bother giving you a chance to explain then goes and starts shouting hurtful things right outside where prying ears could easily hear.
It was safe to say that you never returned to your shared apartment that night, or any night, really. You only showed up when he wasn’t home to gather the things you’d need to crash at a friend's house until further notice.
Everyone told you that it would all blow over, and you would be able to talk it out with him. However, you knew he was too stubborn and your pride too large for either of you to step up and apologize first. This brings you to your current situation, staying with friends and working part-time at the very club that started this whole mess.
You didn’t really want to be working in the same place that ended your four-year-long relationship, but it’s not like you had much of a choice. It helped pay bills and kept you from going hungry. Though you can’t say, you valued your job enough to not jump over the counter every time you saw the little wench that ruined everything. The only thing holding you back was sitting behind bars until someone could come and bail you out. If they did.
Jungwon was still a sore spot for you, especially when you would drive by his tattoo shop. The very shop where he gave you your very first tattoo. The same shop that you were sure he had you bent over or on top of about every surface he could. Fucking you so good you saw stars and leaving your legs shaking. It brought back memories you wished you could relive, but then you remembered everything, and you’d be damned if you were going to be the first to apologize. 
But you never received a call nor a text of any kind from him, sure that he had blocked you. Thus leading you to believe that everything was actually over and you’d never see him again.
Or so you thought…
“Son of a fucking bitch!” You exclaimed, nearly flinging yourself off of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand.
“Y/n language!” your current roommate, Karina, shouted from down the hall. Rolling your eyes, you threw your phone on the bed and stood on your feet. Not even two seconds later, Karina was peeking into your room, fixing her septum. “What happened, though? Anything juicy?”
You couldn’t help but give her a deadpan stare, you loved her, but her incessant need for any gossip was one thing that damn near drove you up a wall.
However, you just let it slide this time because you needed someone to rant to. “I fucking forgot that I had a tattoo appointment with Jungwon today.” You groaned, flinging yourself backward onto your bed while Karina stifled a laugh.
“Damn, babe, looks like the world is really against you.” She smirked at you, her eyes scanning your face catching the conflicted emotions that swirled in your eyes. 
Karina would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy seeing you like this; it was a taste of your own medicine, really. You were one of her closest friends, but anyone with a pair of eyes could tell that you sucked at communication and then blamed it on the other person. Was she rooting for you and Jungwon to get back together? Definitely. Was she also rooting for the possibility that Jungwon or someone would do something about the attitude you’ve had? Fuck yes. 
“Are you still going to go?” Karina asked as she looked down at her nails, making a mental note to repolish them when she had the chance.
With a sigh, you brought your hand to your forehead, rubbing the crease between your eyebrows. “I’m gonna have to. Jungwon is the only one that I know that can ace this design.” Groaning you slapped the palm of your hand against your forehead, “fuck it, I’m going, worst comes to worst I’ll just let Jay do it.”
Karina hummed, looking up at you through her lashes, watching as you hastily searched your wardrobe for a suitable outfit. She had to bite back a smirk when you pulled out a black lace bra and matching underwear. As much as you say you’re dreading running into your ex, your actions tell a whole other story.
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You made it to the tattoo studio well before your appointment was meant to start; you’d rather be super early than late. 
Walking inside, you were greeted by the receptionist you’ve known since Jungwon hired her a year or so ago. Her lips were covered in a huge smile, showcasing her smiley piercing.
“Y/n, oh my god, it’s been forever! How have you been?” Belle greeted you as she stood from her seat, rushing over to engulf you in a hug.
“Hey Belle, I’ve been okay.” You patted her back softly before she moved away, her eyes shining brightly, “is Jungwon here?”
Belle’s eyebrows scrunched together, confused about your usage of Jungwon’s full name. She hadn’t been aware of the breakup, thinking that you had your own personal matters to attend to, which is why she hadn’t seen you.
“He went out to grab a few things, should be back soon.” The new voice caused your head to turn, catching sight of the tall, dark-haired male standing in the doorway, the light reflecting off of his eyebrow and lip rings. “How have you been holding up pipsqueak?” 
“Oh, you know, another day in paradise.” You shrugged, and Jay chuckled at the sarcasm dripping from your words, “And what have I said about that damn nickname?”
“And I’ve told you countless times to get used to it; it’s not goin’ anywhere.” He shrugged with a smirk, causing you to glare at him. “I’m surprised Won didn’t cancel the whole appointment; he’s been huffing and puffing about it all week.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “of course he has.” 
Jay laughed at the sour expression that had taken over your features, knowing that you weren’t much different from Jungwon with the whole ‘being the bigger person’ bit. Even if the two of you were locked in a room, he doubted you’d apologize to each other—at least not verbally.
Which is why Jay took it upon himself to clear out the studio as soon as you were back in Jungwon’s room. Giving you two the chance to ‘talk’ it out and saving everyone in the studio from the trauma of hearing it all happen. However, he needed something that he knew you’d use that would essentially set Jungwon off.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m free if you’d rather me do your tattoo,” he suggested, and he could see the hope gleam in your eyes. Too bad it was just a front. There was no way in hell that Jungwon would let anyone else do your tattoo, especially another guy, not with where it was placed.
“If he gives me too much hell, I might just take you up on that offer.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest, unknowingly pushing your breast up.
The sound of the bell above the door caused him to avert his gaze, already knowing who had just walked in.
Jungwon walks in, and his eyes instantly fall on you before flickering over to Jay, who had been in mid-conversation with you. His face sours at the sight of you just standing there, more so when he notices the thin shirt you are wearing, as well as the skirt that sits just barely below your ass. Noticing his presence, you look over before rolling your eyes at the glare that harbored his face, already growing annoyed with his face.
You turn away, opening your mouth to talk to Jay once more. However, you are cut short when Jungwon walks in front of you, setting things down on the reception desk.
“Is your memory that bad that you forgot where my room was, or were you just waiting for an escort?” His tone was snarky as his eyes flickered over to you, eyebrow quirked up. He couldn’t help but smirk at the annoyed expression that painted your face beautifully. If there was one thing he loved almost just as much as fucking you, it was getting under your skin, riling you up.
“I do not ne-” “Hey Belle, put these in the back for me, will ya?” Jungwon just cut you off leaving you standing there looking at him with a flabbergasted look, jaw clenched tightly. 
Jay stood off to the side, watching with an amused gleam in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure, then he’s definitely sure now. It wasn’t just any normal tension between the two of you. No, it was just straight sexual tension. He then looked over at Heeseung, who had just looked up from his phone, motioning towards the door. The purple-haired male nodded before motioning to the others discreetly.
“Come on, Dory, let me show you the way since you obviously don’t remember.” Jungwon’s words struck a cord, and it took everything in you not to blow up. Your dark eyes watched Jungwon’s back as he walked into the main room, taking a deep breath deciding that he wasn’t worth the humiliation. So you waved softly at Jay before following after your ex-boyfriend.
Walking into Jungwon’s room, you could easily tell that he was annoyed, especially when he shut the door with such force that it shook the walls a bit. Rolling your eyes once more, you walked over to the counter, leaning back on it.
“You know, if you’re so pissed about doing my tattoo, I’m sure Jay would love to do it for me.” You bit back a smirk as his jaw tightened, the veins in his neck starting to pop out. A sense of pride filled your chest, knowing that you were slowly getting under his skin.
“Shut up and take your shirt off.” He hissed through gritted teeth, turning his body to face you. His eyes bore into you, making a chill go down your spine. The same stare that he would give you moments before he pinned you to the next surface and ‘taught’ you a lesson. Normally you would have thought that it would disgust you after everything, but no. It left your body burning, sure that your panties were already getting soaked.
However, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of winning. No, he was going to have to make you.
“You know that’s not how you would talk to a client, plus the least you could do is turn around.” You sassed him, crossing your arms over your chest once more, a smirk spreading across your glossed lips.
It took Jungwon two seconds flat to move in front of you, hands against the counter, caging your body in. His warm breath fanned your face as he inched closer. Your heart lept in your chest at the sudden proximity, and your stomach did flips as his scent filled your senses.
“It’s not like I haven’t seen you in less. Take it off before I tear it off.” He growled, the sound sending a wave of heat right to your core.
Keeping your composure, you stood straight, brushing your nose right against his, finger poking his chest. “Last time I checked, you said you didn’t want to see my tainted goods.”
In the blink of an eye, Jungwon had his hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough to elicit a whimper from you.
“The only thing ‘tainted’ about you is that damn attitude.” His voice was low as he pulled you closer to him, his lips ghosting over yours. Your eyes stared up at him, pupils blown wide, and Jungwon wasn’t stupid; he knew you were doing this to get a rise out of him. A smirk then spread across his lips, sending a shiver throughout your body, “how about you listen and lose it, or…” he closed the gap between your bodies. Your heart lurched when you felt his bulge against your stomach. “Am I gonna have to fuck it out of you like old times?” The sinister gleam in his eyes was enough to tell you what the answer was.
“Won…” You breathed out, voice hoarse from his hold. Your body was becoming uncomfortably hot, and the ache between your legs only grew as the seconds passed.
Jungwon chuckled, “Oh, so it’s Won now? Not Jungwon or asshole?” His fingers tightened a bit more, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. Then his smirk faded, and his eyes darkened, “On the bed, give me any more attitude, and you won’t be cumming, babydoll.” His grip then fell from your throat, allowing you to breathe properly.
You bit your tongue to suppress the smirk on your lips as you walked over to the bed, climbing on top. Laying back on your elbows, your legs parted just enough to give him a peek at your black underwear. 
“Are you sure you can restrain yourself? I mean, it has been a while.” Your lips quirked up as you stretched your foot out, brushing over his growing erection. Amusement gleamed in your eyes as his jaw tightened, his eyes darkening even more.
Jungwon grabbed your ankle, pulling it to his side before slotting himself between your legs. Your breath hitched in your throat as he grabbed your hip, pulling your body flush against his. Your body shivered at his touch, goosebumps littering your skin, and the arousal pooling in your panties grew even more.
“Missed my touch that much, huh?” That cocky smirk found its way back onto his lips, causing you to roll your eyes.
“Yeah, right.” You huffed, staring up at him, but Jungwon wasn’t stupid. He knew your body like the back of his hand—every little thing that made you tick, all the places that would have you like putty in his hands. He knew that you were craving him just by the look in your eyes when you walked in.
“Really?” He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours, eyes boring into yours. “Because your body is telling me otherwise.” His fingers found your clothed core, pressing down, feeling your slick soak through. Your jaw clenched shut trying to keep from letting any noises out, you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction.
“How do you know it’s for you? I mean, Jay does loo-” Before you could even finish your sentence, Jungwon had his ring-clad fingers wrapped around your throat. Squeezing hard enough to elicit a squeak from your lips, eyes staring up at him with a glare.
“Finish that sentence, I dare you.” He growled, his eyes challenging you and normally you would have just kept your mouth shut, but right now? You wanted to push his buttons until he snapped, that little voice in the back of your head telling you that you didn’t have to obey him.
He wasn’t your boyfriend anymore, after all.
Your lips curled into a smirk, eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips for a split second. “I was saying that Jay looks more than capable to fuck me stupid.”
Then, just like that switch flipped in Jungwon’s brain, his eyes darkened with a rage you’ve never seen before. His hand around your neck released its grip before he leaned back far enough to strip himself of his jacket, revealing his inked skin. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, hands itching to touch him. However, before your hands made contact with his skin, he had your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head.
Jungwon’s dick twitched in his pants as he took in how small your hands were in comparison to his. Really just how much smaller you were compared to him altogether. He loved it, loved how easy it was for him to trap you in place. Loved how easy he could maneuver your body to whatever position he wanted. He then realized just how much he missed having you pinned underneath him.
“Babydoll, we both know that no one can fuck you stupid like I can.” He chastised you before leaning down and pressing a kiss against your jaw. Your body squirmed under his, the heat making you feel lightheaded. The need for some kind of friction was almost overbearing.
Jungwon relished in the way your hips were moving against his, listening to the soft sounds that left your lips. His free hand then moved from your hip, finding your clothed clit, and pressing down harshly.
“Fuck!” You cried out, your nerves shooting shockwaves throughout your entire body. His hands were rough on your body, sending your mind reeling. “Won, wait- shit, please be gentle.” You whined out as his pace picked up, making your body jolt. Tears are already pricking at the corner of your eyes.
Jungwon chuckled darkly before he bit down on the junction of your neck, “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address.” he growled before moving your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your tight hole with ease.
Your mouth fell agape as soundless moans fell from your lips, and your body shivered. It had been far too long since you’ve experienced anything like this, and it was turning your brain to mush.
“Look at you, I’ve barely done anything, and you’re already about to cum.” He berated you as he slipped another finger into your soaping cunt.
“Jungwon!” You cried out, nails digging into the palm of your hand. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and the knot in your stomach tightened unimaginably as his fingers brushed against your sweet spot.
Your eyes rolled back, legs twitching on either side of his hips as his fingers coaxed your climax closer. Jungwon smirked against your skin, knowing you were close to the way you were squeezing his fingers like a vice. Your moans of his name were music to his ears, though what he wanted was for your ability to make coherent sentences completely useless.
Just as your high was about to crash over you, Jungwon pulled his soaked fingers from your pulsating pussy, making a loud whine fall from your parted lips.
“Fuck! You’re such a fucking tease, you know that?” You cried out, meeting his eyes as he pulled away from your neck.
“You didn’t think I’d let you cum that easy, did you?” He smirked, keeping his eyes on yours as he stuck his drenched digits in his mouth. You whined, wiggling under his grip as frustration bubbled up in your chest. “Be a good girl and beg, then I might let you cum.”
You couldn’t help but scoff, eyes glaring up at him. “In your dreams, pretty boy.” You spit out, jaw clenched tightly. Eyes watched as he just shook his head, a sinister smile on his lips.
“Don’t worry, baby, you’ll be begging for me by the time I’m through with you.” His fingers then slipped back into your slick cunt, his pace relentless. You bit down on your lip, trying to keep your noise down while he worked his slender fingers into you.
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The pattern continued for what felt like hours. Jungwon would work you close to your climax before ripping it away. Tears were spilling from your eyes, smearing your makeup from the frustration of not being able to cum.
You had lost count of how many times he’d denied you, but you knew that you could only handle so much more. The underwear you had been wearing had been tossed off in the room somewhere, leaving your arousal to pool on the bed beneath you.
The skin of your neck and chest had been painted in deep red and purple blotches as well as bite marks. Your pupils were blown wide as you stared up at him. Your walls clenched around his fingers once again as another orgasm built up in your gut.
“Won-” You were cut off by a choked moan as he denied you yet another orgasm; sobs racked your lungs as you wiggled under his hold. 
“Awww, is my poor baby getting frustrated?” He smirked, eyes studying your expressions as he slid his fingers back into your puffy cunt. His pace was quick, making sure he added extra pressure to your sweet spot, knowing that you would fold sooner rather than later.
As another orgasm built up, your eyes rolled back, and your will was slowly diminishing. Your chest was tight as you anticipated him to stop once again.
And he did.
You cried out, pleading with him with your eyes, but he wanted to hear you. You knew that you were going to have to swallow your pride if you were going to get what you wanted.
A gasp fell from your lips as he pressed against your clit, moving in tight circles. Your head fell back as you tried to form a coherent sentence.
“Won- fuck, please don’t stop. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You panted, eyes meeting his darker ones.
He leaned down, kissing the corner of your lips before trailing to your ear as he sunk his fingers back into you. "See, that wasn’t so hard, was it, baby?”
Pleas and whines fell from your lips as he continued to work into your core, tears blurring your vision. Hoping that he wouldn’t stop this time, that he would actually give you what you wanted.
But just like before he pulled away just as it was about to crash over you.
Before you could even whine about it, he let go of your hands, pulling your body off of the bed, flipping you over before bending you over. A choked moan fell from your lips when he landed a harsh smack on your ass before rubbing the red spot.
“Since you asked so nicely, I’ll let you cum babydoll.” He smirked, hands tracing up your thighs and under the skirt you were still wearing. His thumb pressed against your slit, watching as you clenched around it.
“Wonnie, please fuck me already.” You whined head turned to look back at him. Eyes glazed over with lust, the only thing on your mind was having him fucking you so good that you saw stars.
He unzipped his pants before tugging them down, letting his dick spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight, hips subconsciously wiggling in anticipation. He chuckled darkly before pumping himself a few times, then grabbing your hip in his other hand. He teased your entrance with his tip until you were a whining, begging mess.
“Well, if you want it so bad, then you better start taking it.” Without another word, he bottomed out in one go, causing a pitiful squeak to leave your lips.
“W-Won-” Your words caught in your throat as he started thrusting into you at a bruising pace, not giving you a chance to adjust. His hand gripped your hips so tightly that you were sure there would be bruises by the next day.
Another choke moan spilled from your lips as one of his hands snaked around your waist, fingers finding your sensitive clit. He circled the bundle of nerves harshly in time with his thrust causing your body to jolt and a cry to fall from your lips.
You buried your face into the hard cushions of the bed, hoping to muffle some of your noises, suddenly becoming acutely aware of where you were. You prayed that no one could hear anything that was going on right now. However, Jungwon didn’t care who heard. Actually, he did care because he wanted everyone to know who you belonged to, especially Jay. 
He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your body up, your back flush against his chest as he continued to plow into you. Your moans grow louder as the position changes.
“Feels good, huh, babydoll?” He chuckled as his hand snaked around your hips, pressing down on the small bulge in your lower stomach. A choked cry fell from your lips as he pressed down, making you feel him even more, “You really wanna tell me that Jay can fuck you just as good as I can? Hmm?” 
You shook your head frantically, knowing that no one would be able to get you like this but him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck Jungwon!” You screamed out the worry of other people hearing completely gone from your mind.
He continued to pound into your abused pussy, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. The pressure of his hand on your stomach was making your mind fuzz as moans and whines of his name fell from your lips.
“Gonna cum already baby?” He growled in your ear as he snapped his hips into yours, hitting spots that only he had claimed for himself. His grip tightened on your waist as he angled his hip a bit more.
“Holy shit!” You cursed loudly, your eyes rolling back as he hit your sweet spot dead on. Your mouth fell open as your head lolled back, drool spilling from the corner of your lips.
A high-pitched squeak left your mouth when he brought his hand from your stomach to your clit, rubbing harshly. All of the pleasure and your impending orgasm were causing your legs to start shaking and your mind to go blank.
“That’s it, babydoll, give it to me. Make a mess on my cock” Jungwon knew you were close, switching his position once more until you were crying over his dick, moments away from your orgasm. He pressed wet and hot kisses along your exposed neck before biting down in time with his fingers on your clit.
Silent moans fell from your lips, and your vision turned white as your orgasm tore through your body. Jungwon groaned into your skin as you clenched down tightly on him, but his pace didn’t slow, easily throwing you into overstimulation.
“W-Won- fuck!” Your whole body was trembling as continuous waves of pleasure washed through your body.
“Fuck. I’m almost there; just hold on.” His harsh and gruff tone had switched to soft and borderline whines, causing your mind to almost combust.
His once harsh pace was starting to become sloppy, erratic, and uneven, a telltale sign that he was close. His hips still snapped into yours harshly, which was bringing you closer to another orgasm. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You whine out, nails digging into Jungwon’s forearms, trying to ground yourself as another climax washes over you, nearly taking your breath away. Tears were spilling from the corner of your eyes, falling down and drenching Jungwon’s shirt under your head.
“Fuck, I’m cumming. You’re gonna take all of it, babydoll, got it?” He growled in your ear but didn’t give you a chance to respond before he was pumping his load into your womb.
His hips jerk a few more times, fucking his cum back into you before falling to a complete stop.
Heavy breathing filled the room as you both stood there, trying to catch your breath. Jungwon pressed soft kisses over the swollen spots on your skin where he had bit down. Coaxing you back down from your high, fingers drawing shapes on your hips.
“Won…” You breathed out, blinking your eyes a few times to clear the tears before glancing up at him.
“There she is.” He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek. The feeling made your heart flutter—you had missed this, you had missed him. 
Then everything came flooding back, the hurt following. Swallowing thickly, you pulled yourself away from him before searching for your underwear with shaky legs.
“Y/n, what are you doing?” Jungwon asked, fixing himself before making his way towards you.
“This shouldn’t have happened, we’re not together anymore.” You told him, your eyes looking everywhere but him.
Jungwon could hear the hurt in your tone, and he knew you were right about the not being together part, at least. However, he wasn’t about to let you walk away from him again no matter how upset he was then, he knew now.
“Baby…” His hands found your waist, pulling you into his chest, causing your heart to lurch. 
“Jungwon, let me-” “No, please listen to me. I’m sorry I was such a dickhead.” He breathed out, arms wrapping around your smaller frame, “I should have let you explain but instead I just let her words cloud my mind and I know that’s not any excuse, but I’m sorry I truly am.” His words sunk into your skin, and tears brimmed in your eyes once more. “Let me make it up to you. Give me a chance, please baby.”
You inhaled shakily before turning your head to look back at him, “Fine, but only if we go to that one restaurant I like.”
Jungwon couldn’t help but chuckle before peppering kisses all over your face, “Whatever you want, baby.”
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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shreddedparchment · 3 days
Text
The Garden Gate
Pairing: Medieval!Loki x Reader Word Count: 6,514
Warnings: smut, mentions of infidelity, language, bodily fluids, jealousy, Loki in a poofy shirt
A/N: Well, I haven't done this in a while. I had to go look for an old post to see how I used to do these openings. LUL Anywho, y'all can thank @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for this one. She sent me a picture and then I asked her for three characters and three scenarios and this one is the one that spoke to me the most. I did put my own spin on it but that's just me. Anywho, I'm not sure how many of my old readers will read this but I hope y'all like it. Anything y'all have to say about it is also greatly appreciated. xoxo
Please DO NOT repost my stories on any other sites or blogs!!
REBLOGS are always welcome!
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Your family’s fall from grace had been nothing short of spectacular.
It had started first with the crumbling of respect from the men and heads of other houses. The gentry had taken offense to the shame of your father and eldest brother’s retreat at the battle for Carmine Valley, so named for the blush of trees that peppered the expanse of lush green and the strange but beautiful red waters of the central lake.
Had Lord Odinson’s own knights not been flanking from the western ridges, the valley would have fallen into the hands of the northern enemy forces. A great loss seeing as the valley was the largest producer of grain and vegetables in the kingdom.
The fallout had been catastrophic. Both your father and brother had been sent to the wild woods to the southernmost parts of the kingdom to work off their shame and languish in the dangerous labor camps where men were said to be torn into shreds by beasts as large as a carriage.
Even though you loved them very much, you couldn’t help the anger within your veins at their betrayal to not only the kingdom, but to your very family. The abandonment that their retreat meant. They knew what doing so would do to you, your mother, and younger brother.
If it were not for the King’s good nature, you’d have no doubt found yourself working in some brothel alongside your mother leaving your younger brother, at the tender age of seven, exposed to the worst parts of society.
The seediest brothels were not above selling children, you knew. No matter that the King had signed a death warrant for anyone known to sell or buy said company. It was the worst of sins and it breaks your heart to know that one man’s generosity saved all three of you from that life when he could have very well condemned it.
Knowing this–knowing how bad it could have been–doesn’t change the fact that your life now is still torture. Torture of a different kind, but torture all the same.
The King’s kindness came in the form of service. While your family was stripped of all titles and wealth, you’d also lost your beloved.
That is the true source of agony in your chest as you struggle with the bucket of waste water you’re holding, trying desperately not to slosh it around too hard. The last thing you want to do is to go to bed smelling of someone else’s bodily fluids.
The thick wool of your simple navy dress and the apron you keep tied over it are both great for absorbing disgusting materials. Already in need of a wash, the white ruffle along the neckline is frayed and yellowing despite the gown being only a few months old.
Edging along the courtyard wall, you try not to rush. The exhaustion in your body begs for sleep. Even months later the labor of working in the castle as a servant to former peers has not grown easier.
Wincing as the rough rope of the bucket burns the center of your palms, you almost sigh but instead freeze at the sight before you.
You’d know his silhouette anywhere.
The light is low here, a small lamp just beyond the open garden gate illuminates them from behind and hides their expressions but you don’t need to see to understand.
Her lips are parted, head pressed back against the door, hand braced against the warm brown and ornately carved wood. Her legs are parted a little too wide, a subtle motion of his left arm and the bunch of fabric around his forearm tell you enough of what you’ve stumbled upon.
You’re embarrassed and try to fade back into the darkness of the small courtyard behind you.
His shoulder length hair, black as a raven’s feather, is disheveled. You notice her hand gripping it tightly as his arm pumps.
A wispy, sultry moan slips through her parted lips and you stumble, gasping your own bit of surprise as you try not to spill the bucket’s contents.
A small splash, luckily away from you but the shuffle of feet and the rustle of fabric tells you that you’ve been noticed.
You look up, Lord Loki stands facing you, hands fisted as she hides behind him quickly adjusting her skirts.
“Oh, it’s you,” Lord Loki says, disdain in his voice.
Everyone here hates you. You already know this. Your father’s sins are your own. Nothing can change that.
“Finally where you belong,” the girl says and you recognize the voice with a small shock of pain in your chest. “You smell like piss.”
Lord Loki chuckles and you shrink just a little. More embarrassed by your own situation than catching them in the act. In fact, you’re disgusted by both of them, not only because of their audacity to do this at all, but because the woman whose fingers Lord Loki were just in is also your once beloved’s fiance.
Your former confidant. Lady Amora Antress. You’d once considered her your closest friend. Now here she stands, betrothed to one brother while fucking the other. The venom she spits at you is also unappreciated and painful to hear.
How long had she hated you before your downfall? How long had she waited before pursuing Thor?
“Aren’t you going to reply to her ladyship, servant?” Lord Loki asks, gleeful mirth in his voice as he takes a step towards you.
You bow your head even more, holding the bucket in your hands as still as you can while your hands struggle with the burn of the rope.
Amora scoff, “Pathetic. Leave her be, Loki. She’s where she deserves to be. She’s not worth the breath in our lungs.”
You don’t mean to cry. The utter betrayal of your once friend hurts more even than the loss of your once future husband.
“Are you crying?” Amora laughs, moving around Lord Loki, her shoes clicking against the brick of the courtyard. She stops in front of you, arms crossed over her ample bosom, still exposed more than it should be from what she and Lord Loki were just about to do. “You’re pathetic. The least you could do is be invisible while you serve.”
You say nothing, fist tightening around the rope. Pain shifts into rage at the cruelty in her words.
The wind blows and you can smell the scent of their near copulation. Luckily, it’s driven away by the vines of jasmine that creep along the tops of the brick wall.
She doesn’t deserve Thor. But you know that he never deserved you either. The rate at which he moved on…
Almost as if she’s sensing your thoughts, she takes a step closer and drops her voice to a whisper. You know Lord Loki will still be able to hear.
“Poor little flower, so careless and trusting.” She smiles. “You know it was so easy to seduce Thor. Even before your disgrace of a father betrayed his kingdom, Thor came to my bed often. Such a chaste little thing you were. You had no idea that every night after he whispered sweet promises in your ear of a happy future, he was burying his cock deep in my cunt, whispering how glorious I felt around him. Promising that even after you married, he would slip away and fuck me because no cunt could be as good as mine.”
Whore. Your heart shattered. Finally your eyes met hers.
She took a slight step back at whatever she saw in them. The hatred coursing through you set your teeth on edge. You wanted so much to rip her hair from its roots. If you could gouge her eyes out with your fingers without the consequence of a beheading, you would.
Perhaps she could see that promise of death in your eyes.
She scoffed, a reaction to whatever fear she felt in that moment.
“Now, now, ladies.” Lord Loki chastised, “Let’s keep things civil.”
“Civility? From a servant?” Amora looked at him then back at you, her hateful smirk twisting her pretty face into an ugly mask.
No…this is her true face. Her long blonde hair, pale skin, and green eyes might make her superficially beautiful, but you can see the true ugliness in her now.
“Trash knows no civility.” She spits.
Done with this encounter you make to move around her to finish your duties. You need rest. Body and now soul exhausted, the sanctuary of your quarters beckons like a beacon.
She steps in your way, smiling cruelly as she does.
You make to move around her again. She blocks you once more.
Body shaking with rage, you don’t bother stopping this time as she steps in front of you. Instead you let yourself fall against her, your bucket sloshing loudly as you angle the wide opening towards her.
The smell of piss and shit slices through the scent of sex and jasmine.
Amora screams, stepping back quickly until she bumps into Lord Loki who quickly pushes her away from himself, a wrinkle of disgust on his handsome face.
The green damask pattern of her silk gown grows slowly darker as the piss soaks into the fabric. A dark brown stain sets in towards the bottom.
“You probably should have moved out of my way, my lady.” The casual tone of your voice, the respect you can now fake like a professional grifter sounds so real that your taunt sounds like an apology.
“You bitch!” Amora growls.
Lord Loki catches her by the arm before she can move towards you.
“Perhaps, Lady Antress, you may want to go and change? If what you say is true and my brother will seek you out, I doubt very much he’d desire your company if you smell like shit and piss. No matter how delicious your cunt may be.” Lord Loki’s smirk gives away his delight at Amora’s distress.
Almost as soon as he’s grabbed her, he drops his hand and angles himself away from her slowly to avoid being soiled as well.
“Forgive me, my lady,” you curtsy, a perfect bow. “It was an accident.”
Amora glares at you then looks at Lord Loki who has taken to pressing the fingers of his right hand against his nose to shield from the smell, affixing her with a look of amused disgust.
Amora huffs, “Fuck you.” Then turns and stomps past you across the courtyard and disappears into the castle.
“That was nicely done,” Lord Loki says once you’re alone.
You give him a quick curtsy and move towards the gate to toss the remaining waste where it belongs in the river just past the far end of the large hedged garden.
Ignoring the sound of his following footsteps against the gravel and footstones, you wander through the fragrant rows of flowers.
“If anyone had been watching, no one would have doubted your sincerity with that apology.” He declares, hastening his footsteps to catch up with you, settling in to your right as he matches your pace. “I’m impressed. You never gave me the impression that you even knew how to lie let alone be deceptive.”
Grinding your teeth, you attempt to ignore him. You don’t engage.
He reaches out to grab your arm but you stop and twist away from him, disgust on your face as you stare at his left hand pointedly.
For a moment he looks confused and then laughs once in realization and takes his hand back.
“You won’t tell my brother, will you? About my…meeting with Lady Antress?” Lord Loki doesn’t sound like he actually cares.
You know that he and Thor never truly got along once they were of age. As children they had been inseparable. You’d followed them around and they’d welcomed you into their company as a playmate despite your gender.
Not until you also were of age did you realize that your parents and their parents had seen your friendship as an indicator of good fortune for a future marriage.
As the elder brother, Thor had been chosen. Your heart, having been devoted to Thor even as a girl, had been so full. Eagerly you’d thrown yourself into the arrangement of your marriage. Only now did you begin to realize that perhaps your heart had been the only one truly invested in the promises that Thor had made.
Agony cuts you again, tearing your heart apart a little more as the feeling of stupidity makes your eyes prick with tears again.
“Did you truly not know that Thor and Amora were fucking?” Lord Loki asks, voice devoid of anything but genuine curiosity.
A tear slips down along your cheek as you turn and resume your walk. Lord Loki follows.
“You wound me.” He says, voice low. “Were we not also friends before?”
Scoffing, you readjust the bucket and wince at the pain of the rope as you feel your skin break. You drop it, Lord Loki stepping back quickly but nothing splashes out this time. Most of the contents were currently soaking through Amara’s gown.
You lift your hand up, staring at the peel of skin and the slick of the pink muscle beneath as red begins to pool along the edges of the tear.
Just another wound. It’ll seal and heal and scar, joining the others on your once smooth hands.
The bite of pain gives you a reason to let your tears fall. You don’t hold them back as you sob quietly, uncaring of the audience to your humiliation.
“He’s an asshole,” Lord Loki states, stepping up in front of you. “Always has been. Arrogant, proud, and foolhardy. Thinks with his cock more than his brain.”
Again, you scoff. The irony of Lord Loki, whom you just caught fingering your former best friend in the garden, telling you that Thor thinks first with his cock does not escape you.
Lord Loki clears his throat, embarrassed?
“If I’d been your betrothed,” Lord Loki continues. “I’d have worshiped the ground you walk on.”
“You’re a liar, and just as susceptible to Amara’s games as he apparently is. Does it make you feel happy to sleep with your brother’s fiance? Does it give you pleasure to betray him?” You spit at him, angry at yourself, at Thor, at Amara, at your father and brother.
You’re just so angry. You’re always angry now. Even when you’re sad, you’re angry.
“Are you really worried about my betrayal against him when Amara just exposed him for the hypocrite he is?” Lord Loki demands, a little affronted by your ire.
Biting down hard on your lip, you squeeze around the wound on your hand.
“You’re all hypocrites. All of you deserve each other.” You realize and reach down to take the bucket again but are stopped by Lord Loki’s hand as it takes hold of the bucket for you.
He doesn’t wait for you to say anything and instead moves towards the gate at the end of the garden.
Quickly, you hurry after him, eager to take the bucket from him before anyone might look out onto the grounds and see him interfering with your duties. The punishment you’d receive would be painful.
“My Lord, please,” you finally beg, unable to really catch up with his long legged stride. “I’ll be punished if they find out.”
Lord Loki says nothing but strides out through the gate into the wooded expanse behind the garden.
Expertly, probably from the many hunts he’s gone on around the castle, he winds through the trees towards the rushing river whose roar you begin to hear.
“My Lord,” you hurry after him, nearly catching up but then he turns and disappears behind a tree only to emerge before another one. “Please,” you beg.
Taking a quick glance behind you towards the castle and its countless illuminated windows, you don’t see anyone watching but panic has begun to take hold.
He shifts and turns, stomping over the wild grass, the occasional crack of twig or fallen branch as he steps onto it, eaten by the rush of the water now louder.
You’re almost running now to keep up with him and still you lose sight of him when he turns around a particularly large tree. You stop beside it, scanning the area for him desperately.
The dungeons are so damp this time of year. You don’t want to get locked up if you can help it. Illness is something you don’t have much experience with and with your body weak and unhealthy now compared to the grace and flush of perfection you’d been with money and a constantly full belly, you might succumb to any serious illness.
You don’t want to die, despite the hardships you face.
With no sign of him, you move towards the section of river you always go to empty your buckets.
Minutes later you break through the treeline and spot Lord Loki crouched by the water, damp bucket set beside him now empty and rinsed.
Breathing heavily, you try to catch your breath and press your hand against your thundering heart, forgetting for a moment about the wound there and hiss.
Lord Loki rises, turning to look at you with a furrowed brow as he shakes the water from his hands and dries them on his dark emerald jerkin. He pulls down the puffed sleeves of his black shirt, fastening them around his wrists again but only finishes one before he’s holding his hand out for you.
“Come,” he orders. Not a request.
You don’t move, holding your wounded hand still as you watch him, pale skin nearly glowing in the light of the moon.
“Come here,” he orders again and this time you move towards him only a step. He steps towards you once, his hand held up again with more emphasis. “Shall I say please? Am I wrong? Were we not also friends?”
He smirks, amused by your hesitation for some reason.
Asshole. How dare he throw the past in your face. It’s coercion to remind you of your bond as children.
Unwilling to let him get the satisfaction of seeing you be defiant, you close the distance between you.
He takes your hand, holding it up close so that he can see it clearly. The moon is bright enough that he can and he pulls you towards the river’s edge. Squatting down again, he pulls you down with him.
You kneel, inching towards the edge as he pulls your hand into the water.
A hiss escapes your lips as the water coats the wound, tugging at the bit of skin still holding on until it tears free.
He holds it under the water for a minute then brings it back up to examine, pulling your arm so that you shift to face him and he does the same, kneeling before you.
“It’ll scar,” he realizes, but notes the other small scars that now cover your palm underneath the base of each finger.
You watch him as he traces each scar with his thumb, the golden emerald ring on his finger cool to the touch after being submerged in the cold river water for a bit. It feels nice against the heated skin of your palms. The friction of the rope burning them both.
“I remember when your hands were soft,” he notes.
Self conscious, you make to yank your hand from his grip but he tightens it and meets your eyes in silent order not to try that again.
Holding your gaze, he brings your palm up towards his mouth. Heart hammering against your chest, you try again to yank it from him but his lips close around the wound.
A strange tumble of knots in your stomach work their way up into your chest and constrict your heart.
More strange than that, a shift between your legs has your face and neck burning. Ears so hot that the breeze of the late spring air feels cold in comparison.
“Stop that,” you tell him, voice weak from shock at both his actions and your body’s reaction to it.
He does. Pulling your hand away from his mouth to look the wound over.
“The bleeding stopped,” he states, then reaches for your apron.
The tearing of fabric sends our heart seizing but more arousal pools between your legs. Embarrassed, you look away from him as he wraps your hand tightly. He must have dealt with many small injuries on his hunts because he ties the wrap around your palm securely and nothing save for cutting the fabric away will undo it.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” He asks, voice low and deep. Almost dark in the way it slithers across your skin in a sultry embrace.
“No.” You answer honestly. “And it’s probably only because I caught you and you didn’t get to stick it in Amara.”
He releases your hand as you pull against his grip but he reaches forward to place his hand on your cheek. His left hand.
You almost pull away but remember him drying his hands on his vest. He’d deliberately washed both hands. Why?
“I meant what I said,” he whispers. “I would have worshiped the ground you walk on. I still can, if you’ll let me.”
“I’m a servant,” you spit, turning to look at him with anger and betrayal. “Anything you do to me will be forced merely by the fact that I cannot deny you anything you might want.”
Lord Loki frowns.
“You think so badly of me?” He wonders, hurt in his green eyes.
Your mind flashes back to your childhood. You, Thor, and Lord Loki running to the stables of his estate. You fall. Both Thor and Lord Loki stop but it’s Lord Loki that rushes back to you, helping you up and dusting you off as you cry loudly.
Thor rushes away, laughing in his eagerness to mount his horse.
More memories of your childhood assault you with images of Lord Loki and his kindness. Frequent acts of compassion and what you might have once considered friendly love. Thor’s are fewer and mostly contained to the days after your betrothal had been agreed upon.
“You will never be a servant to me,” Lord Loki assures you.
“It is what I am,” you counter. “You cannot simply ignore it.”
Lord Loki sighs, “You’ve always been so stubborn.”
He lets his hand glide down along the side of your neck, over your shoulder, down along your arm, and then he settles it along the side of your waist, the shape stiff thanks to the corset underneath.
It’s almost unbearable that he’s here, in your shame of servitude. His touch is confusing. You almost ask him why it feels so strange but instead focus on what’s most important.
“Is it true?” you ask, voice wary and quiet.
“Is what true?” There are so many things you could mean, you realize.
Part of you almost doesn’t want to know. So you hesitate.
Something softens in Lord Loki’s eyes as if he suddenly knows what you’re going to ask.
“Were…did Thor and Amara…?” You shake your head, trying not to let the pain show.
“Yes,” he answers, voice firm. He wants you to know that it’s true. No hesitation in his answer. “A few times even with you nearby. You almost caught them a handful of times. Were you only a few moments earlier or later.”
Head falling, you can’t help the tears that spring forth. So much of your past had been a lie. The strength of your house. The friendships you held dear. Your betrothed hadn’t truly loved you. If he had, he would not have betrayed you.
“My brother paints a pretty picture. Despite what he wants others to think he is changeable. He is impatient. Clearly that was his undoing with you. He is rash and prideful. He doesn’t think about what he does before he does it and because he would be insulted by it, would it not be sweet revenge to dangle what he wanted most in the open for all to see?” His words are slow and sure.
The last bit of his speech is careful and calculated. You can hear the manipulation in his words even though he tries not to let you. You’ve known him too long. Lord Loki also changed when you were betrothed to Thor. A shift of his usual kindness had taken place and the sneering Lord had been born. Intent on his own machinations to pry forth the dreary truths of his life.
He’d never been cold and harsh but he became so after your engagement. Thor had called him a snake and even then you could see it. The skill with which Lord Loki had developed his manipulating tactics and the precision with which he enabled them are known to you.
So you know what he’s saying even if he won’t say it clearly.
He takes hold of your chin and slowly lifts your head until he can see your eyes. There’s a strange eagerness in his own greens as he tries to read you. There’s a question there, an uncertain probing as his hand at your waist grows tighter, wrapping around to rest on your back, arching your body towards him.
That strange feeling between your legs surges. It’s Amara’s sneering face that breaks down your defenses. It’s the pride in her words as she’d bragged about being with Thor while you were still betrothed to him that shatters your will.
You do want to get revenge. You want Thor to know that you don’t care anymore. That he means as little to you now as you did to him then.
And what better way to show him that than with the one person he’d hate it happening with the most?
He might overlook some random stablehand. He might ignore some merchant’s son, even if he were above your station.
With Lord Loki…the bite would be as harsh as the sting of Amara’s venom was to you.
“Loki…” you whisper and he surges forward.
His lips are over yours, moving and massaging as you at first merely take his kiss.
He hates it. He pulls back and tilts his head the other way, kissing you more enthusiastically, trying to draw some type of reaction from you.
It’s taking you longer to submit than you thought it would take.
He pulls back one final time and tilts his head back again before this time pressing his lips against your own slowly. He doesn’t move then but instead waits, puckering against yours as he tugs you towards him instead of shoving himself onto you.
Strong lithe arms wrap around your waist and pull you up onto your knees and against his chest. He holds you so close, so tight. It isn’t rough or demanding but needy. As if he can’t get you close enough to his own body and he can only draw you closer and closer in the hopes that it’ll fill something in him that needs filling.
You place your hands on his shoulder as you tilt your head back with his kiss.
Finally, you find the strength in your body and pucker your own lips and return this gentle kiss.
Shock flashes in his eyes as he opens them to look at you. You watch the confusion bloom in them but then shut your own and give in.
Loki’s lips part and envelop yours. It shocks you the way it sends those knots back into your stomach. In response you do the same, enveloping his lips with your own.
Loki’s hands splay out against your back and he groans as he opens his mouth and the tip of his tongue slides against the crease of your lip in question.
In answer, you open for him and welcome his searching tongue with your own. The taste of him, the scent of him, it overwhelms and you gasp as you lose yourself in the moment.
You feel his hands drift around to your front, his right sliding up along your bodice until he can cup your breast, a groan slipping through his lips as he breaks your kiss and traces wet open kisses along your jaw, neck, and shoulder.
“Loki…” you gasp without ever having given your mouth permission to speak.
He bites your neck when you say his name. You moan and he licks the spot to soothe it.
“Loki…” You whisper again.
He’s driven mad by it and before your mind can understand what is happening, he’s laying over you, hands moving wildly underneath your back, running along your sides, fumbling around until he finds where your dress is fastened and he pulls at the ties.
“Should I stop?” He asks, breathless and looking as if he would like nothing more than to keep going.
“No.”
“Mm,” he moans and kisses you again, tongue claiming your mouth as his own.
You can feel him tearing away your apron and then your dress. Too eager to pull it off you completely, he merely shoves it down so that he lays spread out along your waist.
He looks down at you, the corset you wear hiding very little of your breasts. He kisses them each in turn, the soft fleshy bits that pool up above your undergarment.
You shudder at the touch of his lips.
“Has anyone kissed you here before?” He wonders. You’re not sure if he wants  an answer or not but you shake your head anyway.
As he nuzzles the soft flesh, his hands work on the corset, pulling at strings blindly until it gives way and he pulls it off of you exposing you completely.
The cool air of the night perks your nipples more than his touch already has and he takes both breasts in his hands, pushing them together as he stares to the point of embarrassment.
Before you can cover yourself, he takes one into his mouth, suckling softly to draw soft moans from your open mouth.
He sees it, your gaping mouth, and seals it with his own, his tongue nearly in a frenzy as he devours your whimpers.
Cool air hits your suddenly exposed legs. You gasp sharply as he thrusts suddenly and the hard press of his cock rubs against you, shielded only by the fabric of his pants.
“Shall I stop?” He asks again, hands running down along your torso where he takes each breast in hand, massaging them slowly before rolling each of your nipples in slow deliberate circles.
“Don’t stop.”
It’s almost torture when he removes his hands from your overheated body. But you enjoy the sight as he removes his jerkin, followed shortly by his shirt. His body is sculpted but tight, not bulky. Lithe limbs hard and eager as he reaches down beneath your skirts in search of what he desires.
He hisses when his fingers touch you, soaking wet, and you reach down to hold his wrist not to stop but simply to hold on.
The thought crosses your mind that he’s already had someone else like this tonight and it almost makes you pull away. You’re so close to stopping but he sees the thought in your eyes and leans over you, removing his hand he leans over you, pressing his chest against yours and silencing your thoughts with a slow kiss.
It burns through you, the meaning clear.
“Shall I only touch you from now on, darling?” he whispers, kissing your chin then suckling along your throat.
He’ll leave marks…
“Tell me and I will only touch you.” He promises.
“Don’t make me promises you can’t keep, Loki.” You chastise him, mood nearly breaking again at the memory of the endless promises Thor had made you.
“I will never break a promise to you. Tell me to refrain and I will. I meant what I said,” he kisses his way up to your ear, licking the shell of it before hot breath sends your skin prickling. “I will worship the ground you walk on if you will only let me.”
He thrusts again. You shut your eyes, gasping at the cock straining for freedom.
“H-How do I know I can trust you?” You ask, unintentionally letting him see how desperate you are to do so.
He kisses you again, genuine and hungry for it.
“Give me a week and I shall truly prove it. Trust me until then and you shall see the depths of my willingness and devotion.”
He thrusts again and maybe you’re a fool for allowing yourself to consider this when he’s got you right where he wants you, but you nod.
“Only touch me,” you order him.
He smirks. He reaches down between your legs again and with one finger slowly strokes from the bottom of your cunt to the top, the lurid sounds of your wetness poignant despite the rushing river beside you.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises.
One finger. He uses only one finger and the pressure is intense. Sensations you’ve never felt before awaken every nerve ending in your body. His thumb presses against your clit and you nearly sit up with the shock of pleasure that rushes through you.
He adds a second finger, moving slowly as he pumps them in and out.
“Shall I stop, darling?”
“Never stop,” you gasp, still gripping his wrist.
Another smirk on that handsome face, his green eyes dazzling you as he shifts back to his knees.
He licks his lips as he pulls a tie free at the front of his trousers and slowly pushes them lower and lower until he can kick free of them completely.
The length of him is breathtaking. He reaches down and strokes his cock, slowly running his thumb along the shiny pink head before he scoots closer, your skirt blocking him from view.
He rubs himself against you, slicking himself with your own arousal.
There he waits, watching you as you brace your hands on the soft grass beneath you but open your legs wider.
Your eyes meet and both of you know that there will be no coming back from this choice. Nothing either of you do will ever erase this line you’ve nearly crossed completely.
He pushes in slowly, leaning over you as he gets deeper and deeper until he’s buried completely. Chest to chest. Face to face. He grunts deep, face twitching as he settles within you.
It’s so much pressure it’s painful. The feeling of him is so foreign. You’re not sure whether it feels good or not.
“Fuck,” he whispers and tenses then shudders. You feel a wave of heat within you, followed by the sensation of slow moving drippage. “You feel…”
He seems lost for words. Do you feel terrible?
He pulls his hips back just a bit and pushes back in.
You whimper, pushing against his chest to look down where your bodies connect.
“Loki,” you fret.
“I’ll go slow,” he promises. “Be calm my sweet. I will ease you into this.”
Each thrust into you, his pelvis pushes against your clit and each time you moan, wishing he’d do that more. The feeling of him is filling, strange, but not unpleasant. Just different.
As your body relaxes a bit more, Loki’s thrusts grow faster. You smile unintentionally as he presses against your clit more often.
“You like that?” he wonders, stopping as he pushes all the way in and then rolls his hips against you.
Your responding moan gives him confirmation and he settles himself over you fully.
As he thrusts he presses harder against you, lingering for a moment before doing it again and again. The slap of his skin against yours grows louder and he finds a rhythm that has you both breathless and moaning.
“Loki,” you plead, feeling the build up of tension within your body.
“Come for me, darlin,” he kisses you, subduing your voice as he pumps into you.
You’re unsure for certain what he means but your body seems to listen. You wrap your legs around him, holding him as close as you can as he continues to thrust into you. The sweat of his body glistens in the moonlight. The soft silk of his hair tickles your skin as he arches up slightly so that he can take your breast into his mouth again as he keeps pumping into you.
You feel it…so close.
“Loki,” you whimper, wanting to reach the end of this tightrope.
He growls once and brings his hand down between your connected bodies. His thumb presses against your clit firmly. He presses and presses, rolling it in small circles with such precise pressure.
Your body explodes into endless fuzzy light. You arch into him, trembling as his thumb continues to draw pleasure from you in spasms as he keeps moving his cock in and out.
“Fucking hell,” he grunts and thrusts one final time his whole body tight in its release as that same sensation of heat fills you again.
Both of you seem to have stars in your eyes as he collapses on top of you, kissing you slowly with his eyes wide open to watch the expression of pure bliss on your face.
“I think-” Loki says, pulling back as he slowly helps to pull your dress up a bit to cover your exposed breasts. He kisses each one before he does so. “-it goes without saying that I would appreciate it if I was the only one allowed to touch you.”
You’re floating, swathed in golden light, unable to process anything he’s saying because of the pure escape from and yet complete connection to your body Loki’s cock just gave you.
You hear him chuckle. He pinches your cheek, drawing your attention back to him.
“Agreed?”
“What?” You gasp breathlessly.
“No one may touch but me. And I will touch no one but you.” He declares. “Is that understood?”
The authority in his voice draws your legs wide as that throbbing from before is renewed.
Loki’s face twitches at the movement.
“Show me again,” you plead.
“Tell me no one else will touch you,” he orders.
“No one else will touch me,” you agree.
“If you betray me,” you begin.
Loki’s eyes soften. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips.
“I promised you that I would worship the ground you walk on.”
He kisses you again, slowly, feeling every inch of your mouth against his.
“One week, my darling. I’ll prove to you my devotion.” He promises.
The sincerity in his voice has your legs spreading again and he hisses as you shift. Inside you, you feel him harden.
“Show me…” you beg.
“You’re going to be insatiable.” He realizes.
And revenge against Thor aside, you realize that being with Loki might be the smartest thing you’ve ever done.
“Do you have any idea how long I have waited to make you mine?” Loki wonders, stroking your cheek.
“How long?” You wonder, reaching up to take hold of his hand.
“I’ll show you.”
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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days
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Haii!! not sure if you do semi specific requests ignore this if you do not :)
thinking of steve and/or eddie having a raging crush on a thicker/chubby metalhead!reader ( preferably fem ) with face piercings, tattoos, black heavy makeup
( think steve had a secret thing for alternative bitches )
Hey, thanks so much for the request! This one was so much fun to write!
Steve x chubby!fem!metalhead
word count: 2,487
cw: none!
The Hideout was packed with people, the place being very crowded even though it was a pretty popular place to be on a Friday night.
They were all there to see Corroded Coffin play and were very excited for it. The band had been doing well enough that they had been asked to play multiple nights a week, now also filling the Friday night slot.
Steve entered the bar and couldn’t help but be put off by the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. He had only come because Eddie had asked and had insisted that Robin accompany him since the whole place kind of freaked him out with the low lighting and creeps that always seemed to linger around.
Steve got further into the bar, desperately wishing that Robin had been there with him, but of course she just had to last minute take a shift at Family Video. It seemed a little too convenient and he could have sworn he heard her laughing through the phone when she broke the news.
He looked around for any sign of the curly head of hair who had invited him but he guessed he had already gone backstage to get ready for the show. Maybe Steve would have had a chance to wish him good luck if he hadn’t spent so long fixing his hair before he left. He had to look good for another metalhead he had his eye on.
His gaze moved to the bar and he spotted you there, making conversation with the bartender while sipping on a drink. You had laughed at something the guy had said and he was jealous. He wanted to make you laugh and not at his expense like you always seemed to do. He was always acting like a goddamn fool around you.
You turned away from the bar and Steve caught your eye. You smiled and waved him over and he was quick to head in your direction. You were happy to see a familiar face.
You were honestly surprised to see him there. The Hideout didn’t seem like his scene in the slightest. You knew that if Eddie hadn’t been performing, he wouldn’t have touched the place with a ten foot pole.
“Hey, sweet pea!” You greeted with your signature smile. You pulled Steve into a hug and he gladly accepted it, quick to wrap his arms around your waist.
Despite your seemingly unapproachable exterior, you were nothing but a sweetheart to everyone. You loved to give hugs and was always there for a shoulder to cry on or some advice, the complete opposite of your best friend, Eddie.
“Hi,” he smiled back once you pulled away. He was grateful for the bar’s dark lighting so you hadn’t been able to see the blush on his cheeks.
“Didn’t think you’d show.”
“I wouldn’t miss this.” He wouldn’t have missed an opportunity to see you and your pretty face.
You had been very well aware of Steve’s little crush on you and you thought it was cute. The way he would blush at your flirting or sometimes stumble over his words. You thought it was funny that you of all people were able to make Steve Harrington all lovestruck.
You had to admit that you maybe, sort of liked him too. How could you not have with his constant compliments and random gifts? He has been nothing like all the other losers you had dated. Especially since he wasn’t in the metal scene. He wasn’t the kind of guy you usually went for, but there was just something about him that was so intriguing.
“Sit, sit,” you urged and Steve obeyed sitting on your left. “You are in for a treat.”
You knew that he had never been there nor had even seen Eddie perform so you were looking forward to seeing his reaction. Especially since you knew that metal wasn’t his cup of tea. He leaned more towards rock and pop and you appreciated that he was there for his friend despite not liking the genre that Eddie’s band fit into.
You turned your stool towards Steve to see that he was already looking at you. You could have sworn that he had hearts in his eyes and thought it was adorable. You would have never expected one of the most popular guys in Hawkins to actually be interested in you romantically, especially not Steve Harrington.
But there he was, looking at you like this was his first ever crush, all shy and cheeks tinted pink. His eyes always looked warm, like honey being poured into a cup of tea. They were always filled with so much adoration and the look was always just for you. You wondered how you could have gotten so lucky.
“Do you want a drink?”
“Sure. I’ll uh,” he picked up a small drink that was in front of him and scanned it. One of the drinks sounded really good, but it said it had come with an umbrella and Steve wasn’t going to order one of those in front of you. He needed to seem cool. “I have a Sam Adams.”
“Stevie,” you shook your head at him, resting a hand on his thigh. His eyes moved to where your hand had landed then looked back at you, hoping that he wasn’t too obvious. “We both know you want the umbrella drink so get the umbrella drink.”
“But-“
“I won’t judge you. And if anyone does, I’ll take care of them,” you cracked your knuckles. He knew that you were joking, but could hear a hint of seriousness in your voice. If he was being honest, he thought it was kind of hot that you were willing to beat people up for him.
You turned to the bartender and ordered the drink for Steve before he could protest and he didn’t think he could have been more in love with you at that moment. The way you always seemed to want to do everything for him warmed his heart. He felt like he was always taking care of the kids so it was nice that someone wanted to make sure he always had what he needed for a change.
The blue drink was set in front of him and he took no time to take a sip, the fruity flavors dancing on his tongue. It was definitely preferable over a beer. You watched him enjoy his beverage and admired that he still ordered what he wanted despite being afraid of what people thought.
You noticed that the lights were turned down just a bit and realized that Corroded Coffin was about to take the stage. You had to be at the very front, wanting your best friend to know just how proud you were of him just by seeing you sing the words back to him.
“Hey, the band’s about to go on, come on,” you grabbed Steve by the hand and pulled him off the stool with so much force that it caused his drink to slosh a bit.
“Where are we going?” He asked, taking another sip as he blindly followed you through the crowd. He was afraid that he would have followed you anywhere.
“To the front. Need Eds to see some familiar faces. Did you listen to the tape I gave you?” You turned to him once you got to the crowd and he took time to check out your outfit. You were dressed in what looked like a black bra under a leather vest and a pair of tight leather pants to match. The vest gave him a great view of your tattoos. Seeing all of the ink almost made him want to get one, but he had no idea what he would have gotten.
He had to drag his eyes away from your body, knowing that he’d stare at it for hours if he could. He loved the pudge of your stomach and your thick thighs. He often found himself wanting to press kisses to every inch of skin he could find, desperately wanting to worship your body.
The light shone down on your face, reflecting on your face piercings. His eyes moved to each one, first your eyebrow piercing, then the stud in your nose, and lastly, the hoop that was looped through your lip that he desperately wanted to run his tongue over.
He took note of your eye makeup and how dark it was. He found himself wanting to watch you do it, knowing that something that intricate had to have taken a long time and he wanted to see the process. The way you put on your eyeshadow and how you applied your black lipstick without it getting everywhere.
“A little bit,” he shrugged.
“So you actually didn’t listen to it all?” You put your hands on your hips. You could always see right through him.
“I’m sorry, I got busy.” You weren’t mad. You knew he had been picking up extra shifts at Family Video and didn’t really have time to listen to some silly tape.
“Sh, it’s starting,” you clapped your hands together then turned your attention to the stage as the band walked onto it. The crowd erupted in cheers but all Steve could hear was you. You were louder than anyone else.
The lights went down even more as Eddie stepped up to the mic. His eyes caught yours and he gave you a little wave before resting his hand on the mic. He caught sight of Steve next to you and nodded to himself at your close proximity. He had been trying (and failing) to set up the two of you for months. Maybe you were finally going to get together.
“How’s it going?” He asked into the mic. “We’re Corroded Coffin. On drums, we have Gareth, on bass is Jeff, and Doug is on lead guitar. I’m Eddie and this is Upside Down. Sing along if you know it.” He started to play the guitar that was around his neck and Steve found himself nodding along.
He turned to you to see you singing every single word, a huge smile on your face despite the depressing lyrics. He could see how proud of Eddie you were and if he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought you were in love with the guy.
He loved how close you and Eddie were, that you had so many things to bond over. He knew the shit that Eddie had gone through in high school and thought he deserved having someone like you in his life. Someone who understood him fully, someone who was always so supportive, someone who would be there for him no matter what.
Somewhere during the performance, Steve had ended up behind you. There was a couple trying to take his spot and he moved quickly, not wanting to get hurt. Although, he had liked the idea of you cleaning up his wounds.
He looked down at you as a slow song started and you turned to him as if the two of you had the same idea. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his went to your waist. You rested your head on his shoulder and the two of you swayed to the beat.
You had to admit that it was odd to be wrapped up in Steve’s arms, but you would have been lying if you had said that you didn’t love it. The way the two of you seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces. The way your head fit perfectly into the crook of his neck.
You two had been so wrapped up in your own little world that you hadn’t even noticed that the show had ended nor that most of the crowd had already left. You were so caught up in each other that you hadn’t even noticed that the lights had gone up nor that the band had been packing up their equipment.
You pulled back to look at Steve and he felt hypnotized by your pretty eyes. Like he’d do anything you asked just by looking into them. His gaze then moved to your lips, so soft and pretty. He wondered what they had felt like. If they had tasted like the margarita you had consumed.
He quickly pressed his lips to yours and you let out a gasp at the action before melting into him. Your hands found their way into his hair while his arms wrapped even tighter around your waist, pulling you as close to him as he possibly could.
His tongue swiped along your bottom lip, moving across your lip ring over and over he took your little whimper as a sign to continue before eventually sliding it into your mouth. Your tongues swirled around each other and you had to hold back a moan that was sitting at the back of your throat.
You reluctantly pulled away from him only for him to let out a whine at the absence of your lips. You let out a laugh at the black lipstick that has been smudged across his face and you tried to wipe it away but he only took your hand in his to prevent your from it.
“Was that so hard, Harrington?” You asked with a shake of your head.
“What-”
“We both know that you’ve wanted to kiss me for a while so I’m surprised that you finally got the balls to do it.”
“W-well-I-just-” he cut himself off, not being able to string together a proper sentence.
“Relax,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m just joking. Now come here.” You pulled his face back to yours and slotted your lips together once more, this one more slow and sloven.
“Looks like you owe me twenty bucks, Gareth,” you heard Eddie speak up and pulled away to turn in their direction. Gareth had pulled his wallet out of his pocket and handed a bill to Eddie who pocketed it. You couldn’t believe that they had bet on you and Steve getting together. Or maybe you could.
“So are you going to take me out, Harrington?” You asked, turning back to the boy. His face lit up at your question. Of course you were the one to ask first.
“I’d be an idiot not to.” He smiled and you pressed your lips to his once more.
“Can you give me a ride home?”
“I’d be honored.” He took you by the hand and began to lead you to his car.
“You better be safe!” Eddie called after the two of you as you exited the bar. “I don’t want to be an uncle just yet!” The two of you just laughed at his words and walked to Steve’s car where he opened the passenger door for you before the two of you headed to your apartment to continue where you had left off.
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endcant · 2 days
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save a bastion for queer culture in a famously hateful city
i’ll try to write a shorter and sweeter post about this later, but for now i will just beg at length.
there is a town near me called Murfreesboro where at various points they have banned or attempted to ban public homosexuality, drag, and pride flags. for a time their county’s youth incarceration rate was 48% (contrasted with the rest of the state at 5%) due to corruption in their local courts system. every juvenile case that made it to the wrong judge resulted in the child being sent to jail, because the county commissioner thought it’d be “cool” if the jail was a “profit center” (yes these are his actual words). these are just a few examples but suffice it to say, this is a very difficult place to grow up, especially for LGBT kids.
despite all of this difficulty, the area has a remarkable alternative music scene with a few small venues where queer people and young people who don’t fit in elsewhere can genuinely have fun and feel safe for the night. despite the city’s reputation, queer people in the broader area flock to the town for raves and DIY shows. in this area, music culture is intertwined with queer culture and leftist efforts to a much greater degree than i’m used to as somebody from the middle of california.
i really admire the venues and event organizers that cultivate a safe spaces like this in a place where it is decidedly unsafe for queer people, and where the youth are constantly in danger of having their lives ruined for totally arbitrary reasons.
this is why it breaks my heart that murfreesboro is trying to shut down a venue called The Graveyard Gallery. the graveyard gallery is a place where a ton of events are constantly held for lgbt, furry, and alternative communities. it is one of very few alternative places in the broader nashville area where i have felt really, truly safe and welcome as a person of color.
most recently, The Graveyard Gallery has come under attack for attempting to hold a Trans Day of Visibility punk show, with the apt title “Trans Day of Vengeance”. Conservative media, both local and national, directed the attention of their audiences towards this event, calling it “tone deaf” to have it on easter, and to have it sort-of-kind-of-close-to-but-not-quite-on the anniversary of the shooting in nashville. All of this, of course, ignoring that the date for TDoV was set in 2009, and that this was a small DIY punk show that really bore no threat to anybody. the show had to be canceled because of credible death threats, so it didn’t even happen, but that hasn’t appeased anybody.
in the wake of this, murfreesboro’s fire marshal has suddenly decided that the building is not acceptable for occupancy and it has to close immediately and for the forseeable future. people can claim it’s unrelated, but i’ve known people to have their businesses suddenly declined by fire marshals due to sheer bigotry before, and shitty towns will just use their fire marshal to bankrupt small business owners that they don’t like. i do not speak for the owners of the gallery on this front, but i personally believe that these things are related.
all this is to say, the graveyard gallery needs to raise money for their legal fees over this matter. this venue is very important to a lot of people, and may be even more important now that the city’s music scene is in the crosshairs of massive conservative media companies.
if you can donate please do, and if you can share this, please do that as well.
thank you for taking the time to read my post. i know there’s a lot going on in the world, but music venues are where people here gather, and music venues are often also a place where people organize to make meaningful change and promote causes that i know most of you would approve of. music is at the heart of this community, and the venues are where the music lives.
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sheikfangirl · 1 day
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Positively adore your art!! Thank you for sharing it!! Also, would you happen to know of any fics that sort of resemble your art style or ones that inspired it? I’m right there with you I love the basic vanilla vibe and I have been trying to find a decent fic to get into before I finish totk
thank you!!
Thank you so much for your kind words for my art
🙏 I greatly appreciate!🙏
I have a confession to make dear friend! I hadn't read fanfictions in several years but beating Totk made me go FERAL for Zelda material and explore what's been written since BotW came out.... oh boy the rabbit hole is deep!
There is a lot of good stuff out there but I have read so many fanfics in a short time that the whole thing is a blurry mess in my brain. BUT! There is one in particular that really stood out and left a lasting impression on me: Displaced written by socksock https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128084/chapters/50279321 It was originally written in 2018, before the release of TotK so there are some small and harmless inconsistencies that can easily be ignored because, duh, it was written BEFORE totk. I particularly liked this fanfic because it has all the qualities I'm looking for!! Also several key moments and general ideas in that story are extremely close to my own headcanon to the point it almost scared me. The story focuses on Zelda trying to find her place in post-calamity Hyrule. The characters are very well written and credible, Link's personality is player behavior accurate (MORE OF THAT PLEASE!!!!!!!!) and obsessed with completing his quests backlog and I thought it was amazing. Damn i love a player accurate Link!!
It's a wholesome slow burn romance, lots of humor, it's sexy, does not take itself too seriously but can be very emotional at times. Also, I was amazed by one scene in particular....I don't want to spoil anything for you, but the Big Damn Kiss moment is *CHEF KISS*: the setting, the tone and the resolution HSGDKJS, I would've slow clapped if i could've (I was holding my phone lol)
Reading that scene, I thought to myself : F*** YES! This person gets it hahaha !!
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My own Zelink Big Damn First Kiss moment shares a lot of similarities with that fic so, Im going to say it now: when 'll post the Zelink first kiss i'm currently crafting, be sure to know that Socksock and their fic Displaced did something in the same general vibe FIRST! They are awesome. I hope i answered your question haha Have a great day!
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yendts · 2 days
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I LOVE this photo.
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You put so many small details in it and it's lovely.
They're all very distinguished and yet feel very real and in character.
Also where did you learn to draw poses like that? I'm jelly lol.
Have a nice day!
aw thank you!! that’s such a high compliment about their character! the love this drawing has received is so special 🫶
and honestly just years of practice for learning posing? I’ve taken a life drawing class recently which has helped greatly cause i definitely wasn’t this good a year ago, and i do use references especially for more dynamic poses like this! references are such a good friend
but thank you for your kind words and support it means so much i hope you have a nice day too ❤️
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Not sure if this is how I send you asks but could you do a König x male baker reader? Like a fluff story? Like at some point Konig realizes he's in love with the sweet baker? If not that's fine too 🫶🏾🫶🏾 please?
Sweet Tooth
König x Male!Baker!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and König being clueless about his feelings (Tags apply differently. Jokes about suicide, meant to be read with a light heart)
Pronouns for reader: you, he/him, reader is implied male
A/N: I really appreciate this opportunity to write for a character I haven't really written for or considered writing for in the past. I’ve also never written for a male reader before, so thanks so much for this ask! I’m also a firm believer that König drinks an unhealthy amount of hot chocolate. We’re talking 4+ cups on a normal day. I was given the idea and it kind of spiraled. He’s also shy and very pookie-coded here, I think.  Let me know if any of the German is wrong, I relied heavily on Google Translate for this. Also if I missed anything. I’ve read this so many times that the words are melting together and I just needed to post it. Sorry this took so long, I’ve been sick and it’s kicked my ass.
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It was a bit of a shock, the first time he walked into the bakery. At almost seven feet tall, how could he not be a shock? 
Ding. The soft tinkle of the bell above the door alerts you to the presence of the morning’s first customer. You glance up, and the smile drops from your face, then immediately reappears. 
“Good morning! Take your time with the menu, and let me know when you’re ready to order.” Your voice cuts through the silence. “I’m going to go take some muffins from the oven, but I'll be back soon. Let me know when you're ready, alright?”
“Ja.” A man’s deep rumble sounded from under his dark veil. You notice his head tip back up toward the chalkboard menu as you slip through the swinging doors to the kitchen. 
When you return, holding a tray of still-warm muffins, he looks to you. “Bitte, ah, please, may I order?”
“Mhm,” you hum in response, your chest buzzing with the vibrato. “What would you like?” The air is filled for a moment with the quiet sound of each muffin tapping onto the glass display plate. 
“May I have a- a blueberry scone, and a medium, ah, large, hot chocolate, please?” He asks. You notice him picking at his gloves and shrinking down as if trying to appear smaller than he is. 
Maybe he’s shy. The thought makes you smile inwardly. “Yup. I’ll get those for you. Sorry for the wait, it’s just me this morning.” 
“Die Stille [hush], it is- do not worry. It is no problem.” 
Oh my god, he really is shy. 
“For here, or to go?” 
“To go. Danke.”
Several minutes later, you raise a hand in a slight wave as he leaves, paper bag and steaming cup clutched in one gargantuan mitt. “Have a good day.”
“Ja. You as well,” he replies. 
It becomes routine, after a while. At first, it was about once a week. Then, it was a few times. Now, Monday through Saturday, he’s the first customer in the bakery, often causing the bell to ring as soon as you flip the sign. 
It’s a typical Tuesday morning, about a month after he started coming in. You’ve already opened the door, he’s received his usual order, and you’re curious. “What’s your name?” You ask, the urge to inquire obscuring any boundaries you might cross. 
He considers lying for a moment, but you’ve been kinder than most. Always assisting him whenever you could, treating him like a human, not like an apathetic war machine. 
“König,” he answers. 
“König,” you repeat. “Isn’t that German for ‘king’? Are you German?” You can’t keep the questions in. They fall from your lips before you recognize that what you’ve asked is invasive. He’s a customer. He’s here to get cocoa and a scone, not be bombarded by questions he might not even want to answer. 
But the man seems unfazed. “Ja, it is German. However, I am from Austria, not Germany.” 
Thank god for those Duolingo lessons, you think. 
“Oh. I’m sorry for all the questions so suddenly, but what do you do for work? Do you work around here?” The embarrassment you felt at the barrage of questions leaving your lips ebbs, and you feel more comfortable asking them now. 
“Ah, well,” he hesitated. “I am a Marine. I am a colonel. I work on the KorTac base, just outside of the city.” He checked his watch, then looked back up to you. “I’m sorry. I have to go, now. It was good speaking with you. Ah, goodbye.” 
It seems rushed, but you think little of it. He’s just shy. 
“Oh, yeah. Of course. See you tomorrow.” 
“Ja, I will be here.”
Tomorrow comes and goes. As does the next day. And the next, and so on. You don’t ask any more questions, as he seemed to leave hastily the last time. 
But he wishes you would. Why did I not ask one of him? I want to know more about the man, the little voice in the back of his head tells him. 
Weeks pass. He returns again. And you’re feeling brave.  
“König?” Your voice accompanies the sound of the paper bag as he grabs the top. “Would you, uh…” You trail off. 
“Would I what, der Nachtisch [sweets, dessert]?” 
“Would…” You had a hard time getting the words out. Your palms begin to sweat against the counter, and everything seems to be amplified tenfold. “Would you like to get dinner sometime?” You blurt. 
König is silent for a moment. Then, “Dinner?”
“Uh- yeah. With me.” You wish you could see under the veil, as he doesn’t answer. It seems like hours before König’s head tilts back upward to you. 
A small smile grows on his face, not that you can see it. He finally speaks, and his voice is soft. “Ja. I would like that, very much. Thank you.”
He doesn’t understand why his neck feels hot. His ears. His cheeks. His face is on fire and he doesn’t know why. 
You breathe a sigh of relief. He didn’t reject me. He wants to go to dinner. 
Shit. He wants to go to dinner.
“Cool, cool. What, uh, what kind of food do you like?” You ask casually, as if talking about the weather. As if you hadn’t just asked Colonel Colossus to grab a whole ass meal with you. 
He thinks for a moment before responding. “I quite enjoy anything. I am in favor of the foods of my Austrian background, though I am sure you are much more accustomed to those of your home. The choice is yours, mein Täubchen [my dove].” 
“Uh, well, it’s not Austrian, but there’s a little German restaurant a few blocks from here.”
Why did he ask me to choose? “If that’s okay.” 
König smiles, though his glowing cheeks remain obscured by the veil. “That sounds perfect, Mein Schatz [my dear].”
Your face lights up. “Great. When are you free?”
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Language Barriers
same anon as like 5 minutes ago, I remembered the fluffy prompt! Could you write a Sanders Sides DLAMPR fic (before they get together) where all of the Sides have different love languages? And they’re all trying to flirt in their own way, but the others keep misinterpreting it? A lot of TSS fic features the Sides having different love languages (and I’d like to think they do, in canon), but I’ve yet to see a fic that specifically focuses on that fact and describes the differences between love languages. Feel free to ignore, and remember to take care of yourself! – anon
hey I love love love love LOVE your writing! If you’re open to prompts rn, I’ve just reread your story "Idiots, Idiots, Everywhere" and it’s awesome, thanks very much, BUT. Are you willing to write a Sanders Sides fic where it focuses more specifically on all the Sides having different love languages? Bonus points if it’s DLAMPR (but platonic PR, this is an incest-free household) and all the Sides are like “…but he’s like this with everyone”. No pressure at ALL, but it’d be cool to see how you approach that. – anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: none
Pairings: dlampr
Word Count: 3431
Or, five times the Sides misunderstood each other's love languages, and one time Thomas got fed up with it and decided to just...explain it to them with the efficiency they have when they're trying to explain something to him. Which is to say: it takes them a second to get it. The Imagination helps.
Physical Touch
If you were to ask anyone, they would tell you that Patton loves giving people hugs.
It’s the bane of some of their existences, they’d try to claim, and the others might just shrug and say that’s Patton for you. He knows his kiddos love it, at least a little bit. But he won’t lie, he does love a good hug. There’s just something so magical about how, out of all the shapes humans could have possibly been, they’re just perfectly designed to hold one another. Isn’t that just perfect?
Logan would probably say something about evolution and adaptation to the needs of their environment, or something, but he’s not gonna rain on Patton’s parade. Humans are hug-shaped, so they’re gonna hug. Besides, he’s not complaining when he’s working downstairs in the winter and he’s gotten too absorbed in his work and then a Patton-shaped heating pad just comes along and hugs him.
Patton loves hugging all of the Sides. Logan because he’s always so surprised by it, in a good way! He gets this soft little look that is almost on the edge of a smile, like he wasn’t expecting it but it’s the best possible outcome he never could have predicted. Or when he’s trying to comfort Patton and he hugs with undeniable certainty.
Virgil is also fun to hug, because he’s such a pouty-face about it. He snuggles up as much as any of them but he has to put on his mopey show first, just in case anyone’s watching. Virgil also gives the mopey hugs too, but then he makes himself just a bit bigger so he can wrap all the way around Patton. Which is the best.
Speaking of wrapping all the way around, Janus has six arms and he uses every single one of them. They get into competitions sometimes—not serious! It’s all for fun!—about who can surprise-hug each other the worst. Or best. Janus is currently winning from the time he managed to make himself look like the chair in the living room with a blanket over it; Patton sat down and boo!
Remus isn’t allowed to do surprise hugs, not after he accidentally tackled Patton into his Kraken’s pond and they had to spend the rest of the afternoon trying to get out of the pond. But Remus’s hugs are the kind that squish his soul right back into his body and ugh, there’s nothing better than that after a long day. Besides, it’s not like expecting Remus’s hugs takes anything away, he’s still going to squeeze him so hard he might not be able to breathe for a few seconds, but that’s Remus!
And then with Roman—Roman hugs the way every single knight from a fairytale should hug. He just makes you feel safe and precious and like nothing in the world could hurt you. It’s why Patton always sits next to Roman during scary movie nights, after all, even if he gets teased about it a little. Roman doesn’t mind.
So yes, Patton does love hugging all of them. But it doesn’t have to be hugging! It can be holding hands, or just leaning against each other, just as long as he can feel them and tell himself yes, they’re okay, they’re right here, I love them.
Because he does. He loves them terribly. Even if they think he’s just a big fan of hugs.
***
2. Quality Time
Virgil has the reputation of being the cat of the Mindscape for good reason. Not because he hisses at things that don’t cooperate—the other Sides are not excluded from this—and not because he spits up hairballs—it was one time, Remus, and it was entirely your fault—but because he has a habit of just appearing in the same room and hanging out for a while.
…alright, it’s not a habit, he does it on purpose.
Companionable silence really is the best way to go about things. You’re both close enough to talk if you want to, but each of them is allowed to do their own thing and hey, there’s another person doing their own thing too. Which is why it’s his favorite way of hanging out with Logan, especially when he needs to make sure that something gets done. He’s always down to affectionately bully Logan into whatever he asks him to make sure he does.
He does that with Remus too, but it’s not exactly the same: Remus needs someone to make sure he doesn’t actually destroy anything, and he’s more than happy to oblige. Especially since he likes to get a bit of a heads-up before a rampaging beast goes barreling through the kitchen at some ungodly hour of the morning.
If he’s never beating the cat allegations, Janus sure as hell isn’t helping. There’s a big window in the Dark Sides’ half of the Mindscape that is perfect for lying in for, oh, a few hours on end. Remus has many—too many, if you ask Virgil—pictures of the two of them just basking in the sun, dozing like they haven’t got a care in the world.
Virgil’s actual favorite place to sleep is with his head in Patton’s lap. Especially after he’s just finished baking, when he’s all warm from the oven and he smells like sugar and spice…Virgil will sit on the counter or the floor and listen to Patton talk about whatever he wants and then while the oven bakes, he’ll fall asleep right in Patton’s lap. He even gets first dibs on whatever just got made.
Roman makes a game of it. He’s the Prince, every good Prince needs a rogue to work with. They trek all over the Imagination, having adventures, defeating monsters, it’s the perfect mix of Roman’s quests and Virgil’s need to be a creepy little shit in every dark corner he can find. Being with Roman even makes boring council meetings fun, because he gets to terrify the idiots that they’re just gonna fight later anyway and he gets to spend time with Roman.
He doesn’t care what he’s doing, not really, just as long as he can spend time with them. He just…wishes they would understand that sometimes.
***
3. Words of Affirmation
Logan is no stranger to impostor syndrome, but that doesn’t mean he has to allow it to plague those he cares for. Understanding something to be true on an intellectual level and feeling the validation that comes from hearing someone else voice it are two very different things. The other Sides are each remarkable in their own right. They deserve to hear it.
Patton is kind. He does not say that lightly: kind people who choose to be kind because they know how difficult it is are not individuals to be trifled with. Patton makes the conscious choice to try and be better every single day. He is earnest and sincere, sometimes painfully so, but he does not allow himself to be dissuaded by obstacles. How could Logan not want to express his admiration?
And Roman…oh, Roman is a wonder. There is so much that goes into his work that often goes unnoticed, or underappreciated, and it is a crime that Logan too often finds himself on the wrong side of that line. Roman is clever and funny and has a work ethic that, truly, rivals Logan’s own. For every slight he makes, however unintentional, he tries his best to make up for it by telling Roman in no uncertain terms how honored Logan is to be part of his creative process.
Remus is an entirely different story, no pun intended. Remus is unabashedly and unapologetically himself, and as such is a marvel to behold. He cares not for the sanitization or reduction of anything in his work, and so Logan does his best to follow suit. Remus is who he is, and it is beautiful.
He tells Janus he’s beautiful too. And not once is he lying. The first time he did it, Janus laughed in his face, at least until he realized Logan was telling the truth. He then didn’t see Janus for an entire week. It ended when a little snake plushie appeared outside of his door in the middle of the night with a tiny note that just said thank you. He tells Janus he’s beautiful every chance he gets now.
Virgil is his little alley cat. Perfectly fine to approach on his terms, but will let him know with no uncertainties when he’s getting a little too close. It doesn’t help that Virgil is quite fun to tease, even if all he’s doing is giving him compliments—true compliments, mind you—and watching in amusement as Virgil curls up into a ball with his hood pulled down over his ears as if that could hide how red they are. He’s not cruel about it, of course; he stops the moment Virgil appears genuinely uncomfortable and there are certain topics he doesn’t go near. But Virgil can’t always hide his little grin and so on it goes.
He’s quite happy to shower them with his words, he just…doesn’t know if they’d believe him if he said I love you.
***
4. Acts of Service
Words are difficult. There is so much ambiguity to be found in even the most basic of sentences, and when it comes to matters like this, Janus prefers to take as few chances as possible. Whoever coined the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words,’ Janus definitely owes a drink for how spot-on it is.
Whenever Patton needs a hand in the kitchen, he’s always the first to volunteer. He can do up to three things in the time it would take another Side to do just one, after all, and he’s had enough experience cooking for the troublemakers (Virgil and Remus) to know how to get around most of their pranks. And how to get them back.
Logan, bless him, has a tendency to overwork himself at the best of times. And in doing so, he gets these terrible knots and cramps in his neck and shoulders from hunching over his desk for hours on end. It might not be the most polite of things to practically blackmail his way into giving Logan a massage, but the poor dear always falls right to sleep so he mustn’t mind too much.
Remus and his delightful menagerie of creatures often need more than their fair share of attention. He had to pester Remus into getting him a raincoat and muck boots that could withstand the acidic slime, but weekend mornings found them strolling cheerfully through pens and cages and paddocks, tending to the bizarre flock. Anything to make the chore more of a fun activity and less of, well, a chore, when Remus really doesn’t suit stressed-out frowns as well as manic grins.
Virgil has a terrible habit of not asking for reassurance when he needs it. Janus regrets the part he played in making it that way. So, no matter how small and stupid Virgil may think it is, whenever he asks for help, Janus gives it. A tug on his cloak or a soft please will have him do anything from turn the light in the hallway on to checking the poor thing over for wounds after a brutal nightmare. It took long enough for Janus to re-earn that trust, he’s not going to lose it if he can damn well help it.
Out of everyone in the Mindscape, only Roman truly appreciates his love of theater. Sure, the others are game to help out here and there, but when it comes to the art of make-believe, Roman is the proud owner of Janus’s ‘yes-and’ partnership. The two of them make all sorts of stories together, from villains and heroes to morally grey adventurers, to simple fairytales and old plays. Roman needs someone else to help him play the roles and Janus is more than happy to play with him.
Perhaps one day, he might be able to reveal that everything he does for them, he does because it’s them, but for now, he’ll happily play the role they expect of him.
***
5. Gifts
Roman and Remus do not, in fact, fight over who gets to give the most presents to the other Sides.
Instead, they fight over whose idea they work on first.
For Logan, Remus’s self-writing pen narrowly won out over Roman’s proposal for a never-ending notebook, if only because said pen squirted ink into Roman’s mouth before he could finish his argument. They ended up giving both to Logan at the same time, but the pen was decidedly on top and did its own little celebratory wriggle when Logan used it for the first time.
Remus nearly challenged Roman to a formal duel when it came to designing a heat lamp for Janus that wouldn’t run the same risk of burning out the electricity in their section of the Mindscape. They managed to agree on everything up to the design on the lampshade. Roman said it should be a yellow snake, curled up and sleeping, and Remus wanted it to be a big leaf that Janus could lay under like he was actually outside. The compromise was eventually reached over many hours of almost bloodshed and now the sleeping snake under a leaf is a staple in the corner of Janus’s room.
Roman cleverly proposed Virgil’s weighted blanket while Remus was being crushed under said blanket, leaving not a lot of wiggle room until he had to agree. Of course, he promptly fell asleep and cuddled Roman into a pile of goo, so technically they made both the blanket and the plushie at around the same time. Virgil still brings the little skeleton to movie nights.
Patton gets their presents one after the other, because you need one to understand the other’s context. A rebreather designed to slip on over the person’s face just like any other face mask, to filter out particulates and allergens. Something that could be worn for up to two consecutive hours before it needed to be recharged.
The other present was a box full of kittens.
”Ro?”
“Yeah?”
Remus pushes his goggles to the top of his head and looks over the desk. “Do you think they’ll ever get it?”
Roman sighs, closing his notebook and leaning back to stretch. “I don’t know, Re. I love them, really, they just…”
”Don’t realize.”
“Yeah. It’s okay, though. We’ll get there eventually.”
“Of course we will. Hand me that wrench, would you?”
“The one that’s covered in guts, or the one that’s made out of foam?”
“The foam one. I need to whack this thing but I don’t wanna hit it too hard.”
“I’m not gonna ask any more questions.”
***
+1: I Love You
”Hey!” Patton rises up first, clapping his hands. “Oh. I’m the only one here.”
“Only by a moment,” Logan says as he joins him. “Is Thomas here?”
“No, I just got summoned by—well, I thought it was Thomas but he’s not here.”
“Whoa, hey!” Virgil appears on the staircase. “What’s going on? I was in the middle of watching someone.”
“Don’t you mean ‘something?’” Remus appears, covered in slime and cackling. “Ah. I see.”
“I’ve got it,” Roman says, rising up and spraying his brother with something that somehow manages to dissolve all the goo without staining or spraying anything else. “There. Now maybe you’ll think twice about surprising Uma when she’s feeding?”
“Oh, I’m gonna do this so many more times!”
”I felt the exasperation from my room,” Janus sighs, appearing, “what’s Remus done now?”
“Why did you assume it was Remus?” Janus just looks at Logan. “Fair enough.”
”Now that we’re all here, what is this about?” He looks around, frowning. “Where’s Thomas?”
“That’s weird, is he not the one who called for a meeting?”
“What’s that?” Virgil reaches out and picks up a piece of paper from the coffee table. “‘Each one of you needs a card, find the matches.’ What cards?”
“Here.” Logan picks up something that fell when Virgil picked up the paper. “There are only five of them, though, and six of us.”
“What do they say?”
“Let me see…one says ‘Physical Touch,’ one says ‘Acts of Service,’ one says…oh, I see.”
“I don’t,” Patton says, “can you share with the class?”
“Wait, wait, I think I know what this is, is one of them ‘Quality Company’ or something?”
“‘Quality Time,’ yes.”
Roman nods. “It’s the Five Love Languages.”
“Thomas doesn’t even speak Spanish!”
“No, no, Padre, not literal languages, it’s…it’s the ways you express your affection for someone. How you tell them you love them. There’s five: physical touch, acts of service, quality time…”
“‘Words of Affirmation,’” Logan continues, reading off the other cards, “and ‘Gifts.’”
Virgil hunches his shoulders. “So what, are we supposed to pick one?”
“I believe the intention of the exercise is to…select which one is our love language.”
Janus huffs. “Why? What does Thomas have to gain from doing something like this? And where is he?”
“Maybe he’s not the one who summoned us.”
“Well then who did?”
“Maybe if we do the thing we can find out.”
Janus sighs, peering over Logan’s shoulder and squinting. “I guess this one’s mine, then.”
“‘Acts of Service?’ Very well. I suppose I’ll take ‘Words of Affirmation.’”
“Can I have the touch one?”
“Certainly.”
“Twins get ‘Gifts,’ obviously,” Virgil mutters, “which means I get the…time one, or whatever.”
Logan hands out the last two cards and they stand there for a moment, waiting for something to happen.
Nothing does.
Patton looks back down at his card. “Wait, did you say these are how we tell people we love them?”
“That is a simple definition of this, why?”
“Because you guys do these with everyone!”
There’s a pause. Logan adjusts his glasses. “Well, I can’t speak for everyone, but…yes, I do indeed give you all words of affirmation, because, well…”
“Aww,” Virgil says, “do you love us, Logan?”
Logan coughs, blushes, and adjusts his tie. “I believe that is a logical conclusion, yes.”
“Aww!” Patton squeals. “I love you guys too!”
”So whoever set this up knew that we were all trying to tell each other that—“ Roman starts.
“—and needed to hammer it into our heads what was happening,” Remus finishes.
“Well,” Janus sniffs, even as a smile threatens the corners of his mouth, “how dramatic.”
Virgil tugs on the strings of his hoodie. “Yeah. How dramatic.”
There’s another pause.
Roman coughs. “Uh, this seems like a good a time as any, um…Remus and I put together a festival thing in the Imagination for everyone, if you want to…if you want to come and see it.”
“It has everyone’s favorite state fair stuff,” Remus sands, “and there’s supposed to be a northern-lights kind of thing after it gets dark.”
“Can we cuddle?”
“Of course.”
“Will there be food?”
“Your favorite, shadow-ling.”
“You two are so thoughtful,” Logan says softly, “I would love to come.”
“I can get the good blankets from the closet,” Janus offers, and everyone grins, “should we meet there in ten?”
“Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”
The Imagination is just happy they finally sorted it out. Now, to give the six of them a group date they’ll never forget…
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catladyoftheyr · 2 days
Text
Too Sweet (Ch 3)
Harvey x Reader
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2
Summary: picking up off last chapters cliffhanger and diving straight into Harvey’s 4 heart event. You resolve the conflict after the incident with George, Harvey gives you a checkup, and you two share a jar of pickles in his apartment. 💘🥒
Authors note: I know nothing about the Air Force I’m so sorry. It’s just for the plot and vibes. He needed a backstory!!
Word count: 1.7k! A longer chapter as a treat
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“Harvey! Oh my god why are you here? Wait, no, I don’t mean it like that” the surprise visit from the doctor had you stumbling over your words. “You scared me. And I don’t actually think your mustache is stupid. I just… I was really embarrassed about what happened earlier.”
“I actually stopped by to thank you for backing me up earlier. George can be stubborn, so I’m glad you got him to listen to you.” The doctor averted eye contact and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Do you mind if I join you?”
“Oh uhhh, sure. How much of what I said did you hear by the way?” You hoped silently that he hadn’t heard you call him cute, especially since you’d been talking to a chicken.Harvey slid down and sat next to you on the floor of the coop.
“Just the part where you insulted my mustache,” he replied, stroking his own facial hair. “The farm is coming along nicely. You must be very dedicated to make such a turn around in such a short time.”
Oh thank Yoba you thought to yourself. “Thank you. I guess I’m trying to make up for lost time; I want to honor Grandpa’s memory because he loved this farm and the community. I used to spend a couple weeks here in the summer when I was growing up. I haven’t been back to the valley since I was a teenager. I didn’t think Lewis would recognize me when I came back.” You laughed quietly, an image of you as a gawky adolescent with braces coming back to you
“About earlier, we can put that behind us if you’d like. I didn’t mean to be short with you either. I was startled so I apologize for being curt.” Harvey looked at you with a kind expression before rising from the floor. “I’d like for us to be on good terms going forward.” He extended his hand and helped you up.
———————————————————————————
The bell on the door chimed as you walked in and Harvey’s head poked up from his paperwork. “Hey! Just the person I wanted to see today actually.”
“Oh?”
“I was about to write you a letter recommending that you schedule your annual checkup. If you don’t mind, I’ve got time today actually for a cursory exam.” Truthfully you weren’t very fond of hospitals, or doctor’s appointments. But you were also a terrible liar and had no time to think of an excuse. Better just to get it over with, you supposed.
“I can make it work.” You set the jar of pickles aside temporarily and followed Harvey to an exam room. You sat down on the paper, uncomfortable with the sudden formal shift in your dynamic. You’d gone from friend to patient in a matter of minutes. Harvey placed his stethoscope just under the collar of your shirt and you flinched at the touch of the cold metal.
“Sorry it’s chilly,” Harvey said. “Your heart rate is a little high. Do hospitals make you nervous?” He asked with a slight furrow in his brow.
“A little bit” you admitted. It certainly didn’t help that this was the most physical contact the two of you had shared since you met. He placed his hand on your shoulder and your eyes met. You felt your palms start sweating.
“Take a deep breath for me please” you did as instructed and tried to focus on anything else but the feeling of his hand on you. “Your lungs sound strong.” Harvey was in his element as he checked off the boxes of a routine checkup. He tested your reflexes, examined your ears and eyes, writing down his observations on his clipboard. “So far you seem to be in good health. I just have a few more questions about your lifestyle”
“Ask away, Doc.” Harvey seemed slightly flustered at the nickname but made a quick recovery. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and stood up straighter, clearing his throat
“As I was saying. Working on the farm involves a fair amount of physical labor I assume, so I’m sure you get enough exercise. What do you usually eat in a day?”
“Oh I usually just eat the foragables I find around the valley. There’s a lot of leeks and wild onions out now. I saw a weird looking berry the other day and I ate a couple of those. Sometimes I eat eggs from the chickens, or buy something from Gus for dinner.” Harvey was visibly stressed as he absorbed the information you gave him.
“I would highly advise that you eat a more balanced diet. Foraging is fine as a snack but it won’t provide enough energy for your activity levels. Eggs are good, but I’d implore you to try and eat from all the food groups”
“So this probably isn’t a great time to say I also eat the algae I find in the mines?” You’d never seen the poor doctor so stressed; you imagined most of his patients weren’t quite as odd as you.
“Let’s move on. How much sleep do you get at night?”
“6ish, sometimes less, sometimes more”
“Well, 8 hours a night is recommended but 6 isn’t terrible I suppose. But I’d encourage you to try and find a healthier routine. Farming is labor intensive and if you don’t give your body the care it needs you won’t be able to keep up sooner or later.” He had a look of genuine worry in his eyes and it pulled at your heartstrings. You’d only known each other for several months, but you sensed the beginning of a deep connection.
“I’ll try to be better,” you replied softly. You weren’t used to being chastised, but you understood he meant well.
“Thank you. You’re free to go and have an official clean bill of health from me”
“Well I stopped by to ask a favor actually”
“Oh?”
“I was wondering if you’d do me the honors of being the very first taste tester of my first batch of farm fresh pickles” you grinned and gestured toward the door “I left them on the counter.” Harvey smiled back and held the door open for you.
“I’d be honored. I’m actually about to close up for the day, would you like to come upstairs?”
The two of you headed upstairs to the small apartment above the clinic. Furniture was sparse and well loved, and there was a small kitchenette off the main room. The back wall held a large bookshelf that boasted an assortment of books and some small trinkets. Another shelf was lined carefully with model planes. There was a radio station in the corner by the window. “It’s not much, but it’s home,” Harvey said sheepishly.
“It’s great” you replied, eyes scanning the room with eagerness. You were itching to learn more about him. You took a seat on his small sofa, your heart nearly skipping a beat when he sat next to you, his knee inches away from yours. “You can have the first one” you offered, extending the open pickle jar toward Harvey.
“Don’t mind if I do.” Harvey reached in and plucked out a particularly large pickle before biting into it. His eyes lit up as he tasted it. “This is delicious! You’ve really never made pickles before?” You shook your head. “Well you certainly have a knack for it.” You grabbed a pickle for yourself and were pleasantly surprised at how good they were. You were glad he wasn’t lying to spare your feelings.
“What’s with the planes?” You saw Harvey get a far off look on his face while he thought about his response
“I’ve always been fascinated by aviation. I did a stint in the Air Force years ago. I wanted to become a pilot but it didn’t pan out. It ended up paying for my med school tuition though. The model planes are something I like to do in my free time. I find them relaxing, and they remind me of my time in service.”
“I would have never guessed that. Pilots and doctors are pretty different. What led you down this path?”
“I think I’ve always had an affinity for helping people. I joined the Air Force to serve my country; this feels like a way to serve the community in a different way.”
“That’s actually really selfless.” You toyed with images of Harvey in uniform as you reached for another pickle, not realizing that Harvey had the same idea. Your hands met in the rim of the jar and you flinched back instinctively. The small touch left you wanting more. You adjusted your legs slightly, tentatively letting one fall against his. Harvey made no effort to break contact.
“Tell me more about yourself. You said you explore the mines. Are there really monsters in there?”
“There are! I haven’t made it down very far but there’s all kinds of creatures down there.” You animatedly described the things you’d encountered on your adventures: colorful slimes, stealthy rock crabs, large buzzing insects, agile bats and more. Harvey looked on with a mixture of awe and fear.
His voice grew soft as he spoke “please be careful in the mines. I’d hate to see you get hurt.” Suddenly it was as if a switch had gone off in his mind and he got up from the couch. “Wait here one second!” He bolted across the studio and down the stairs. You heard rummaging from below before Harvey emerged again holding an armful of various medicines and first aid supplies. “Take these.” He thrusted the bundle of supplies into your arms.
“Harvey I can’t just take these from you. These are expensive” you insisted, trying to hand them back to him. A roll of gauze unraveled on the floor. Harvey plucked it from the ground and placed it on a table.
“Nonsense. Consider it part of your checkup.” He looked you in the eyes with a pleading expression. “Please take them. And promise me you’ll keep them with you in the mines”
“I promise.”
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obeymematches · 2 days
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Hi there ,I really like your writing! So I wanted to ask you how the demon brothers would react to a MC turning into a little toddler ? (Because of some spell/forbidden book curse etc,you choose) MC being super adorable and sweet like the "perfect" toddler somewhat? Being a little funny too and giggling/smiling a lot ,also loving the brothers and being very comforting with them!
ahhh i wish my own toddler was so nice and sweet lmao
he is though but only if i let him get what he wanted
Toddler MC
Lucifer:
• Sigh
• The only other person not out of their mind in this house turned into a toddler somehow
• Pretty sure it was a curse against him
• Listen dear I doubt he gets along with a toddler for an entire day
• Though you being nice to him, showing him daffodils, rocks with your sticky little hands, hugging his leg until he picks you up helps a lot.
• He is in his prime during bedtime; reading you stories is his favourite part of the day. You are a good, curious kid & never throw a tantrum when he is with you. It is so peaceful he doesn’t actually want it to end. He tells you another story even if he has already told you 4.
Mammon:
• Oh jesus thank God you were turned into a toddler and not him!
• At first he isn’t too sure about what to do with you but quickly gets the hang of playing a bit roughly
• You know the kind of playtime moms don’t wanna see
• He spins you around, hangs you upside down, throws you into a pile of pillows, lets you sit on his neck, throws you in the air, stuff like this.
• It does good for your confidence levels regarding child development plus! you get tired super fast after spending time with him.
• You, him and Levi have a freeze dance competition every afternoon! Sometimes they won’t let you win though.
Leviathan:
• Doesn’t really know what to do with you either. In fact he is scared of you a little.
• You clinging to him, throwing kisses etc. melts him eventually, you are just so adorable he was an idiot to be scared of you.
• Definitely loves to roleplay with you. Comes up with the cutest storylines, though sometimes it gets so complicated you miss it here and there.
• He can easily keep you busy for 3 hours a day and never ever complains
Satan:
• Highkey concerned about the situation
• Never ever seen a toddler before
• His concerns leave him once he sees that you are actually a good little one.
• So now it is his duty to teach you mischief!
• He spends lots of time teaching you to speak as you haven’t said a comprehensible word yet.
• His strategy is referring to himself as „Tantan” but he calls everybody else „The Avatar of” or „The sixth born”, you know, so there is absolutely 0% chance your first word isn’t Tantan. Or maybe kitty/cat, that’s also a phrase you hear quite frequently.
Asmodeus:
• I think he is the only one who gushes over you right away.
• Doesn’t want you to turn back, look at how adorable your cheeks are!!!
• Spends most of his money on new clothes for you, you have to be the all time most fashionable toddler in the city.
• Loves to have tea parties but tbh that’s pretty much it, not sure what/how else to play but he does everything else!! Very enthusiastic and overprotective!!
• He also gets you this helmet so everytime you might fall you’re not going to hit your head. You are so spoiled my dear
Beelzebub:
• Also thinks you are super adorable. Might eat you if you are with him too much.
• Takes you out to the city with him, you must learn how to get food!
• Introduces you to ketchup
• He takes you to the playground the most.
• He is def not the most violent of the guys but trust me you are very well protected and safe!
Belphegor:
• Doesn’t really like what’s going on right now to be fair
• But at least you are nice so that makes it easier
• His preference is cuddling and having a snack with you as you watch TV
• One time he got you chicken to eat.
-Mr.Belphie I don’t like chicken...
-Ah. But it’s not chicken, actually it’s dolphin!
-Oh! Y/N loves dolphin!
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kate-bot · 9 hours
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OKAY SO I've gotten two asks about my Noisette cosplay AND THANK YOU SM FOR THE KIND WORDS !!!!!!!! It was sm fun to make this cos, so I will gladly explain everything I did in hopes that it might help someone else!! also both anons please share your cosplays with me when theyre done i would love to see them....
I've tried to link everything where I can, where I got stuff etc... I only rarely cosplay (although I am thinking of going as the noise in May Comiccon) and this was my biggest ever project so!! It's very trial-and-error! But without further ado
KATES EXTENSIVE(ish) GUIDE TO COSPLAYING NOISETTE FROM THE HIT GAME PIZZA TOWER!!!!!!! (warning its kinda long)
THE HAT
Okay i’m gonna be real my mum helped me so much she basically did all the sewing for me. Sewing is the fucking bane of my existence I hate doing it so much so we planned it out together and she basically executed it. Props to her for that she’s so real… She also wrote down what she did!! So i’ll just paste and colour that in for you to read!!
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“The black material (seen in the above image) was originally a beanie hat that was picked apart to use as a template…
This was game changing basically. We had experimented with making the hat from scratch but it was far too difficult and we were both too stupid so we just unstitched a pre-existing hat and stole the template. The hat we cut up was one we had lying around for years so i cannot tell you where to get one from, but any beanie that is stitched together will work i guess! So I would recommend finding a hat that fits you snugly and doing the same thing!
…and the wool fabric that was utilised gave the finished product was stiff enough to be structurally sound.
I just got this from my local fabric shop, I would recommend wool over something like felt because it’s super sturdy and I was pulling on my mask a LOT.
Once sewn together, I attached a stiff card facemask to the front to help provide some structure, and to locate where the eye holes should be cut.
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I think this picture shows it pretty well, my mum was able to curve the shape of the fabric to fit a pre-existing mask- we got ours from Hobbycraft, just one of those stringed white template masks yknow. We cut off the string, made the eyeholes a little bigger and just stuck it straight on!! I should mention this was pretty much all done with a sewing machine as well!
After that, we made two ears from a paper pattern, stuffed them and put some wire inside to allow them to be positioned, before sewing them onto this headband, which was then sewn into the hat. The bottom of each ear was also stitched to the crown to give it some additional stability and to secure the headband correctly in position (having fitted it on the wearer).
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Yeah it was actually less of a mask and more of a headband!! That was what gave it most of the support and meant the ears would stay up, I’m not sure how it would work without it!! The ears were the only part that I could actually help with LMAO i just freehanded a little template, stuffed it, and then put in some modelling wire to make them able to be posed :)
Then it was a lot of hand sewing, and glueing the eyeholes to the mask to create a cohesive look.
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AND YEAH that’s pretty much all it was! I also attached some little felt eyelashes to add to it as well. Honestly I could never come up with a step-by-step guide for the process because it was such a trial and error thing (i’d made two test-hats before we even came up with the method) but it was so fun!!
I would 100% recommend if you want the ears to stay UP to stuff them AS MUCH AS U CAN and/or put wire in them!! :) I also made some cute little bows to clip into my wig in the same fabric to make it more cohesive!! I also put a bow (and a bunny tail heheh) on the back of the dress too!!
THE DRESS
Super simple! I just found one online (okay for some reason the link has been taken off of the website, but just look up "overall dress" on google shopping and you will 100% find something super cute)- I made sure to buy the dress first, and then take it to the fabric shop to try and colourmatch the mask fabric as best as I could. Then it was just buying some big ol buttons off eBay and sewing them on!! (I could actually do that bit by myself, I'm bad at sewing but im not THAT bad)
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EVERYTHING ELSE
Cute patterned knee-high socks cuz shes cute like that. Leg warmers, I think I got them both off of Amazon... Converse I got from Depop and I had wanted to buy a pair anyway so I was super stoked to get them cheap!! I chose converse over a pair of high-heels or Mary Janes just for comfort reasons, I was walking around loads at the con so... Everything else apart from the shirt was from Amazon or just. Somewhere online(I have no idea where to get fancy white gloves LOL) and the shirt was from Depop as well! I liked how frilly it was, re: Noisette is cute like that!!
oh yeah and the wig. I hate wigs it was awful. I have no idea how to style them. underneath the hat was the most awful bowl cut ever I just. It wasn't my best moment. Dont ask me about wigs please .
Also I should mention I got this bag for the cosplay (which I now use all the time cuz its so cute) because i needed space to store shit and I wanted something on-brand with her cafe... this isnt the exact link I used but I just got it off of ebay :P
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PROPS
Unfortunately I don't have a lot of WIP pictures of my props but they were pretty simple to make!! The coffee cup was literally just spraypainting over a reusable coffee cup and using POSCA pen to draw on the front! Fun fact the cup says "To Peppino" because originally my boyfriend was gonna go with me as Peppino before the Cruetly Squad brainrot got to him so. YEA
And the tip jar was also pretty simple, I just painted on the lid a plastic jar (can't be glass, not allowed at ComicCon) and cut out a bit of vinyl to work as the sign. The cobweb was just hot-glued 3D printer filament, and the spider was made with foam modelling clay (literally the best thing ever if you're making small models like that) and i stuck him to the lid of the jar with Kandi string so he'd bounce around :]
AND I THINK THATS IT!! i may as well post a pic of the full cosplay since I dont think many people would have made it this far.... But I think it turned out pretty cool!! I got recognised a few times as well which was amazing!! (cropped out my bf cuz idk if he wants his face on tumblr gfhhfg)
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SO YEAH!!!! if anyone has any questions please let me know.. but GOOD LUCK IN UR COSPLAY MAKING FRIENDS!!!! :D
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ofthecaravel · 2 days
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Heaven In Time
Chapter 1 Chapter 2
Chapter 3: Bleeding Hearts, Angel Voices
Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka
Summary: The last supper. Or is it?
Tags: Religious trauma, hella guilt tripping/mentions of religious upbringing, internalized homophobia, sliiiiiight slut shaming, sibling fighting, slight sauciness
Words: 10k
A/N: As promised, here's the playlist, as well as the last chapter of this little series. Thank you all so much for being so sweet about it and I'm so happy you liked it!! Tell me all your thoughts!!! OH also, I'm aware that only Catholic priests really wear clerical collars, but I decided to include it because Josh is dramatic and would think it looks cute. Okay enjoy
~~
“This is it?”
“Yup.”
“Wow. Somewhere along the way you failed to mention that it’s absolutely gorgeous.”
“It’s practically sinking into the lake, Dan.”
Already crabby, Sam really wanted to be able to trash the house looming in front of them. But for all its ghosts and lonely corners, Sam couldn’t write off the fact that his childhood home (and Jake’s new permanent place of residence, apparently) was and had always been a sight to behold. It wasn’t particularly flashy with its modest white paneling having been frayed by weather and stained with mildew, and it certainly wasn’t modern by any means. However, with the silver maples conspiring around it and a lakeside view from the bottom of the hill it rested on, the house with all its flaws and farmhouse style charm was enough to make Danny’s eyes widen. 
“I didn’t know my parents had moved,” Sam noted softly, heart racing as he observed his brothers’ cars in the driveway and wondered where his dad’s station wagon was parked now. 
“I’m sure Jake will fill you in on everything,” Danny assured Sam as he parked next to Jake’s crappy Volvo. He cut the engine and studied Sam’s apprehensive expression out of the corner of his eye, selfishly hoping that Sam would call the whole thing off and they could drive off towards the loving embrace of Danny’s own childhood home just beyond the state border. He knew his parents and sister would absolutely adore Sam, but he wasn’t sure that Sam’s brothers would welcome him as readily.
“Okay,” Sam blurted, smacking his hands against his thighs and letting out a fast exhale. “Quick overview before we go in.”
“Right,” Danny nodded. Honestly, he could use a refresher. It was always a struggle to get Sam to talk about his family like this.
“Josh is the oldest,” Sam started, beginning his list of points by marking them on his fingers. “Technically. He’s older than Jake by, like, I don’t remember, a couple of minutes. Super friendly, loud as fuck, took up my dad’s pastoral duties after he got deep into the televangelist bullshit that I’m sure he’s still doing now. He was a natural, of course, given that there’s nothing he loves more than the sound of his own voice.”
“Harsh.”
“Dude, trust me. You’ll get what I mean. Anyways, you’ve met Jake. Sort of. He’s very…passionate, which you’ve seen. Kind of hot headed, very one track minded. He basically runs the whole ministry from the shadows, even when Dad was still pastor. Josh gives the go ahead, but Jake’s the organizer. He’s busy 24/7 and has been since they were, like, 12.”
“Doesn’t sound very sustainable,” Danny commented. Sam let out a laugh and shook his head.
“It is not,” Sam agreed bitterly. “But he likes barking orders and playing puppet master, so I guess it works for him. And, I mean, school and youth group pretty much taught us that there was no other way for us to live other than doing church shit all day every day, so I can’t say I’m surprised he turned out this way.”
“Pretty relentless, huh?”
“Yup. Especially when your dad’s running aforementioned church and giving you shit for doing anything, I don’t know, childlike? Or for just enjoying stuff?”
“Definitely explains why Jake was such a dick about your cute ‘fit,” Danny said. “Those values trickle down if you let them, I guess. I still don’t think you had to change, by the way.”
“I definitely did,” Sam muttered, looking down at the plain jeans he’d pulled from his suitcase and the thin flannel he’d buttoned over his chest after their backseat tryst. “Josh would’ve lost his shit. No way he’d go full ‘Ooh, look at me, I’m a man of God and that means I get to preach with corporal punishment’ route, but he’d sure as hell think about it if I showed up in those shorts.”
“Baby,” Danny lamented, heart sinking as he watched Sam fiddle with a button while wearing a sullen expression. “We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to,” Sam insisted, reaching for Danny’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For, you know, closure.”
“Okay,” Danny relented, still hesitant but trusting in Sam to know when enough is enough.
“Okay,” Sam echoed. “Okay. Okay, let’s do this.”
Sam pulled Danny in for a quick kiss of courage, bounced once in his seat, let out a nervous sound and then threw open the door and climbed out. Danny chuckled and got out, locking up the truck and watching with adoration as Sam shuffled towards the peeling front steps. 
-
“One second!”
The voice came booming through the rattling front door after Sam had given it a timid knock to the beat of three. Almost instantly, Sam’s nerves flared with electrifying panic and he spun to face Danny.
“Actually,” Sam declared in a rushed, reedy tone. “Fuck this, let’s go.”
“What?”
Before Sam could drag Danny down the stairs and bail harder than anyone has ever bailed before, the door swung open with a melodramatic bang and then there was Josh. Danny could immediately see the startling resemblance between him and Jake, but there was something particularly unique about Josh that immediately set him apart. Danny assessed his tidy curls and the clerical collar nestled snugly at the base of his neck and knew it must be these physical differences, but he stood there puzzling nonetheless. Josh’s face was lit up with a plasticine cheer that seemed to be his resting expression, but at the sight of his deserter younger brother turning to him like a deer in the headlights, his face morphed into uncharacteristic shock. Once again, Danny stood in awkward silence as the useless mediator. This time around he had the good sense to step to the side before the situation devolved.
“Oh,” Josh said simply, his graceful hands rising to cup at the sides of Sam’s face with practiced theatrics. “Oh, praise be to God. Sammy. You’re okay.”
“I’m okay,” Sam repeated, already faltering under Josh’s fiery gaze. “Hi.”
“I can’t believe it,” Josh breathed, tears glittering in his eyes as he shook his head with wonder. “I just can’t even believe it’s really you. It is, right? Or are you some agent of the Lord sent to test my faith in His protection of you?”
“Pretty sure He’s not worried about your faith, Josh,” Sam muttered, grasping Josh’s wrists and lowering them. “I’ve been protected just fine. It’s me, I swear.”
“Thank God,” Josh blubbered, throwing his arms around Sam and pulling him into a crushing hug. Despite it all, Sam accepted it gratefully, crossing his arms behind Josh’s back and holding him just as hard. This was the reunion he’d been dreading the most, but his shame was temporarily assuaged in the comfort of his brother’s embrace.
Danny kept his silence as they hugged, but eventually Josh caught his eye and appeared to register that there was someone on the porch other than Sam for the first time.
“I’m sorry, I’m being rude,” Josh began after he let Sam go, wiping a tear with the heel of his palm and presenting his other hand to Danny. “I didn’t catch your name.”
“Danny,” Danny introduced himself, giving Josh a firm handshake and smiling nervously. Even though so few words had been exchanged, Danny had to admit that it was enough to feel that Josh’s presence could quickly become overwhelming.
“Daniel,” Josh grinned, pleased. “I assure you our home tonight will be no den of lions.”
“Of course,” Danny smiled, completely disbelieving of Josh’s sentiment. “Pretty sure that was revealed to me in one of my many visions. …That is what Daniel did in the Bible, right?”
Josh’s laugh erupted out of his chest and he clapped Danny on the arm with an approving grip. Sam shared a look of surprised amusement with Danny, whose shoulders flickered with a shrug as Josh came down from his laughing fit.
“Good man,” Josh wheezed. “Ah, that’s funny. Am I right in assuming you’re Sammy’s companion in the travels I’m sure he’s had? The travels I simply cannot wait to hear about?”
“Correct.”
“I’m happy to hear it,” Josh beamed, flashing his wide smile back on Sam. “I knew this would happen, you know. That He’d send you a guardian angel to watch over you. I prayed for it.”
“I’m truly blessed,” Sam agreed, giving Danny a private, bashful smile while Josh became temporarily distracted by propping open the door.
“That you are,” Josh professed, gesturing into the house as he crossed the threshold again. “All of us are, really. Now I don’t want to keep you waiting on this drafty old porch, please, come in, come in.”
Josh went in first, flying ahead of Danny and Sam as the door closed behind them and the house swallowed them whole. 
“Here we go,” Sam whispered, nearly inaudible. Josh guided them, humming and singing under his breath as he reached to graze his fingers against the walls of the hallway lined with crosses of all sizes and finish.
“It’s going good so far,” Danny whispered back. “He likes me.”
“Wait ‘til he finds out what kind of guardian angel you are,” Sam murmured. Danny flushed and snaked his arm behind Sam and gave him a pinch on his side, only inches away from the situationally appropriate angel wings messily inked on Sam’s lower back. 
Sam bit back a muffled squeak and smacked Danny in the arm. He was ready to send another flirty whisper his way, but when they emerged in the kitchen, Sam froze up once again at the sight of Jake stationed at the stove. Jake’s hair had been relieved of its outdated ponytail and skirted over his shoulders in messy waves, swaying with motion as he tended to a pan.
“When you said surprise guests, I was certainly not expecting a surprise like this!” Josh cried, shaking Jake by the shoulder. “You drive me nuts.”
“You drive me nuts, it seemed only fair,” Jake smiled. “I’m surprised you saw me come home acting the way I was and didn’t immediately know Sam had something to do with it.”
Sam let out an offended little exhale from his nose and Jake finally regarded him and Danny, renewed tension stretching between them all as he gave them a curt, impersonal nod.
“You really came,” Jake noted plainly, gaze lingering on Sam before turning back to the stovetop, pushing sizzling green tomatoes around the skillet.
“You invited us,” Sam reminded him, cautiously approaching and watching him work. “Enthusiastically, actually. Is this Grandma’s recipe?”
“Yup,” Jake answered flatly, still refusing eye contact as the oil snapped and leaped when he flipped the tomatoes.
“It smells divine,” Danny piped up. Jake gave him a side eye that Danny honored with a nervous, polite smile, but Jake ultimately shut him down with empty air. 
“It’s all divine in this house,” Josh followed up dreamily. 
“Well, hopefully it doesn’t taste like ‘disappointment’,” Jake muttered pettily, bringing up Sam’s words from the gas station. Sam sighed and took a step back from Jake, who filled his space by moving from the pan to open the oven, poking noisily at a covered tray. 
“Come on, Jake,” Sam groaned. “We come in peace. I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”
“And I don’t want this catfish to char,” Jake countered. “Scoot.”
“I’ve scooted, thanks,” Sam frowned, taking another step back. “Why are you acting like we’re showing up uninvited? You literally asked us to come.”
“Hey, what has gotten into you two?” Josh interjected, finally absorbing his twin’s clipped tone. “We should be celebrating. And we have company, so if you could save us all the trouble of picking apart your rude semantics, that would be lovely. I mean, honestly.”
Jake let out a huff and continued working to pull dinner together, plunging the kitchen into icy silence as Sam sneered at the floor to prevent any tears from creeping up on him. Danny wanted nothing more than to hoist him up and carry him out of the house, but he watched helplessly as Josh came over to Sam and gently pulled him out of the room.  
“You two can hash it out later, okay?” Josh whispered, and Sam nodded as they crossed the threshold into the wood paneled dining room. The dining table was set with four crisp placemats, all of them centered in the middle of the table under the flowering hands of the chandelier. It was odd for Sam to see, considering he’d never known the table to be set without a placemat at the head of the table for his father. 
“Sorry,” Sam apologized, falling into old habits. “We ran into Jake at a gas station and it ended…weird. You know he can be kind of-”
“Snippy?” Josh finished for him, pulling out a bundle of cutlery from a drawer. “Righteous? Yes, he can be. Lord knows I know. He’s working on it. Been working on a lot since you left, actually. Some days I swear he out prays me.”
“When did Mom and Dad move?” Sam asked, changing the conversation while robotically accepting and laying down silverware as Josh handed it to him.
“Two months ago,” Josh replied nonchalantly. “Turns out Dad’s broadcast made its way to Nebraska and amassed a following there, so they picked up to be closer to his flock.”
“Nebraska?” Sam exclaimed, nearly dropping the bundle of forks in his hand. He swallowed the revelation with a shiver of relief and an equally strong wave of grief, no doubt felt by the lonely little boy he carried inside him. Sam realized with blank shock that there was a very good chance he would never see his parents again.
“So, what, they just up and left?”
“Yeah…”
“For Nebraska?”
 Danny walked in then, unable to withstand Jake’s angry clanging for another minute.
“What’s in Nebraska?” Danny asked innocently. 
“Our parents,” Josh explained with a weak smile. “I trust Sam’s told you about our Dad’s post preaching venture?”
“A little,” Danny lied. He’d heard plenty about what the Kiszka patriarch had been up to since retiring and passing on the torch of preacher to his oldest son: good ol’ American televangelism, complete with the incensed ramblings and an addiction to being on screen. From what he heard from Sam, this came at the cost of quality time with his family. Sam had assured him the blow was softened significantly considering they’d all been fruitlessly clamoring for his affection for their entire lives and were long accustomed to the scraps they’d been dealt.  
“I guess I shouldn’t be so surprised,” Sam laughed flatly, shooting Josh a knowing look. “Lord knows Dad has the means to afford it.”
“Oh, here we go. I don’t want to hear your conspiracy theories, Sammy,” Josh replied sternly. “I have faith that every drop of his viewer’s donations go right to the Convention.”
“Right,” Sam muttered. “Just like the college fund did.”
Josh stiffened, bright eyes suddenly cast in shadow as he set a glass down on the table. Danny’s eyebrows silently rose in curiosity. He’d never heard mention of college.
“Always the firecracker, Sammy,” Josh said with a brusque laugh, recovering with shocking speed and slipping his cheerful mask back on with ease. Sam rolled his eyes and carried on doling out glasses and napkins, but Danny found Josh’s abrupt mirth disturbing and studied him from where he leaned in the doorway. Danny had felt quite certain in his assessment of Jake when they’d met, but with Josh, he couldn’t quite pin what it was about him that kept Danny’s attention.
-
Dinner had gone off without a hitch, much to the surprise of everyone at the table. There was a bit of a rough start when a chilly direction from Jake had Danny positioned at the seat farthest from Sam, one that also conveniently faced the portrait of Jesus on the wall. But after they’d all sat down, Josh had led them in a tearful round of grace praising Sam’s safe return and then insisted on hearing every single detail of their cross country journey. Knowing that “every single detail” would send both his siblings into cardiac arrest, Sam had regaled them with only the most entertaining stories. Danny felt his heart swelling in his chest watching Sam settle into his natural element, rolling his wrists in the air and grinning like a madman as he detailed engine mishaps and eccentric motel squatters. The biggest surprise of all was Jake slowly warming up as the conversation rolled along, never contributing more than a few words at a time but eventually offering up the smallest of smiles and persistent eye contact as his little brother rambled away.
“I just can’t believe it,” Josh noted brightly at the tail end of one of Sam’s stories. “You’re so bold now, Sams. I remember when you were such a little scaredy cat too scared to get the communion wafers from the back room by yourself. Now you’re out there roughing the wilderness and pushing cows off the road.”
“Trying to push cows off the road,” Daniel corrected with a smile, remembering how hard he’d laughed watching Sam push with all his might against a cow where its herd had blocked the road somewhere in Texas. “Emphasis on trying.”
“I pushed that big one with the brown spot!” Sam argued. “You saw! He went running!”
“He felt bad for you, Sammy.”
Jake let out a snort that set them all off into their own fits of laughter, save for Sam who open mouth scoffed and mouthed threats to Danny across the table. Despite his faint indignation at Danny poking fun at him, Sam felt a great rush at the light hearted mood that had settled over the room. For a split second, he thought of a world where they could eat dinner like this on a regular basis, but he held himself back from indulging in that hope and laid it to rest in a far corner of his mind as quickly as it had risen.
Sam found it to be a wise choice when the laughter died down and Josh, completely unknowingly, killed the mood.
“Is it a hassle to find churches near motels?” Josh asked with sincere interest. “Or is it nice to settle for one day a week when you’re always driving around all willy-nilly?”
Jake let out another snort and Sam and Danny made awkward eye contact across the table.
“They don’t go to church, Josh,” Jake answered for his brother. Josh blinked and Sam bowed his head, suddenly very interested in tearing at the seedy heart of the tomato at the end of his fork.
“I suppose we can be few and far between,” Josh nodded. “I don’t think it’d hurt to peek in on a general Christian service, though. It’d do the job if the Baptist radio stations don’t reach wherever you end up.”
“They don’t want to go to church, Josh,” Jake continued. Sam kicked him under the table and Jake shot him a snotty look, raising his eyebrows haughtily as Josh turned to Sam.
“Is that true?” Josh asked, sounding a little hurt. 
“Did nobody here read the note I left?” Sam mumbled childishly, keeping his eyes down as Josh sputtered and looked between him and Danny. Danny couldn’t muster anything more than an embarrassed cough, also looking down but keeping his eyes firmly glued to Sam.
“I did, about a thousand times,” Josh insisted, shifting his entire chair to face Sam. “But I figured you’d, you know…well, maybe I don’t know.”
“I bet there’s a lot we don’t know,” Jake added, kicking back when Sam kicked him again. 
“What are you, 12? Stop it,” Josh snapped, adding his own kicking leg to the fray. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“You should’ve seen what he was wearing when I saw him,” Jake said conspiratorially.
“Jake, shut up!” Sam hissed. “You’re so fucking prissy.”
“Woah, language!” Josh scolded, throwing his hands up. “Everybody take a brea-”
“He was practically naked. From where I was, I actually thought he was a girl.”
“Okay, Jake, give it a rest,” Danny snapped, anger finally giving him the courage to speak up.
“I’ll “give it a rest” when you stop necking my brother in broad daylight, how about that, Florida?” Jake snarled, tossing his fork on the table with a furious clatter and crossing his arms. Danny’s mouth clamped shut at the same time Josh’s fell open. Sam let out a strained howl, staring daggers through his brother’s skull as Jake sent them right back.
“God, Jake, you’re so, so,” Sam stammered, insults piling in his mouth. “You’re so fucking jealous!”
Jake didn’t reply, but his eyes fluttered from the sting of Sam’s words. Sam had hit a nerve with sharp precision and they both knew it.
“What on God’s green earth is Jake talking about?” Josh asked, eyes glued to Danny where he wilted in his chair. Danny drew in a breath like he was about to answer, but they all found that the silence he gave instead was just as clear as if he’d spoken. 
“Sam?” Josh asked, a little desperate. For some reason, he didn’t sound as deeply disappointed as Sam had imagined, and certainly not as mad as he’d feared. 
“I hate you,” Sam whispered across the table to Jake, ignoring his other brother searching his face for something he’d missed entirely. “I said I didn’t want to fight.”
“Are we fighting, or am I just saying things that are objectively true?” Jake countered with eerie calm. “You don’t go to church. You dress like a girl. You’re screwing a total stranger. Anything else you’d like to add? Is he paying you, perhaps?”
Sam’s chair scraped loudly as he got to his feet and sent it banging against the wall. He crumpled up his napkin and threw it in Jake’s face before storming out of the dining room, leaving behind another frustrated cry that was cut off by the metallic clang of the front door. Josh turned to Jake with his own expression of genuine anger. 
“Do you want him to leave again?” Josh growled, glaring him down before casting his eyes on Danny. “Daniel, I am so sorry. Please, forgive us.”
Jake’s face grew cloudy and sullen at Josh’s fury, clueing Danny into whose opinion he must value most in this world. He sank further in his chair when Josh breezed past him and followed Sam’s warpath out of the home, leaving Jake and Danny to sit side by side in their private rages after the door had slammed for a second time.
-
They sat there for a very long time. Danny wanted to run to Sam (he was always running to Sam, and he thought maybe he always had been) but knew that Sam needed Josh more than him. As much as he was not enjoying this trend of being left alone with Jake, he sat with the storm cloud beside him and did his best to steal glances and collect information without Jake’s knowledge. When they’d first encountered him, Jake had seemed so eager to fly Sam back home to the nest. He’d seemed almost understanding, or as understanding as someone like him could be, but it’d spun out within seconds. Danny was trying to figure out the exact moment that had turned him into a cold shouldered teenager so desperate to cut Sam down. 
 When slyly sliding his eyes to try and gauge Jake’s expression, Danny startled slightly to find that Jake’s focus had shifted from the wall to him. When he followed the low trajectory of his tired gaze, Danny saw that Jake was staring at…Danny’s scuffed cowboy boots. From the looks of it, he was tracing the stitchings in the brown leather. Lost in a daydream, maybe? Danny considered with a note of private amusement that Jake might be looking at his boots and tucking himself into a fantasy of cowboys and fast horses. Maybe that was something he and Danny both did; escaping into an idealized reality when the one at hand was too much. 
Then, with a jolt, it clicked. The way Jake had grown cruel when Sam had defended his new look and new life, no doubt shattering Jake’s pre established perception of his baby brother. Inviting him to dinner and cooking what Danny knew were some of Sam’s favorite foods, only to spoil it all with appetite stealing jabs. How he had shrank under Josh’s disappointment. How he sat now, staring at Danny’s boots like he wished they were his. 
Like he wished he could run.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” Danny blurted. Jake jerked at the sudden sound and regarded Danny with wide, confused eyes. He blinked once before his face crumpled, perplexed.
“For what?” Jake asked, all bite gone from his voice. He sounded almost friendly. He sounded a little like Sam, actually. Danny used that familiarity to gather his confidence.
“I’m sorry Sam didn’t invite you to go with him. That must’ve really hurt.”
Jake’s expression held its dumbfounded composure but Danny could see the emotion shift from confusion to something akin to being completely crushed. He barely blinked and Danny watched his eyes fill with tears.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jake hissed, his voice wobbling slightly as his lip curled in feigned disgust. “You two are going to die out there, one way or another.”
“You must be a masochist, then,” Danny accused, continuing to find his nerve. “Because I’m willing to bet that Sam wasn’t too far off when he said you were jealous. I’m really not trying to be rude, I’m just trying to understand.”
“Understand what? Why I hate your guts?”
“You don’t hate my guts, Jake. And I sure as shit don’t hate yours.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You didn’t even give me a chance.”
Ah. There was another puzzle piece clicking in place for Danny.
“That’s another thing I’m sorry about,” Danny said honestly. “I shouldn’t have shut you down like that. It’s just - and this isn’t an excuse, it’s just an explanation- it’s just that I’ve spent the past year trying to get Sam as far away from what he was running from. And, well, you’re a part of all that in one way or another. But I should’ve understood your circumstances the same way I do Sam.”
Jake was quiet for another beat, swallowing and sniffling before letting out a sigh.
“I guess I shouldn’t have shut you down like that either,” Jake admitted. “And I guess I should thank you for keeping him safe and, well, alive. It’s just so weird to see Sam like this. He’s so…”
Jake’s lip trembled in a particularly Sam fashion and his eyes drifted off into space as tears began to roll down his ruddy cheeks.
“He’s so happy,” Jake breathed, in awe. “He was right, he was never happy here. I pushed him too hard. Josh was too wrapped up in his own crises. Our parents never gave him a second glance. And now he’s so free. He got out. You two have done so much and gone so far that it just makes everything at home feel even smaller. I guess I didn’t realize until I saw him again that there was something to ‘get out’ of.”
“It’s okay,” Danny whispered, reaching out and putting a hand on Jake’s arm. “Hey, breathe, it’s okay.”
“It’s not,” Jake wailed, fully swept up in his hysteria now. “It’s not okay. This is supposed to be a place people flock to, not run from. And, shit, if it was so bad that he had to run, you’d think he’d have the decency to at least tell me and Josh. You’d think he’d ask if...”
Danny thought he’d be more distressed watching Jake completely spin out, but he was actually pretty calm. He supposed this was par for the course in a place like this. Another holy man laid to waste by a betrayal. Another brother struck down by his brother, laying still while the other wandered. In some twisted way, there was something divine here, but not in the way that any of them wanted. Danny suddenly felt even closer to Sam, and he shivered a little with the understanding and satisfaction of it despite the gaunt atmosphere over the entire estate. He kept a steady hand on Jake’s arm when he crossed his arms on the table and buried his face shamefully, the lean crest of his back shivering with an unruly sob. 
“You should go, Jake,” Danny whispered. “I mean, you should leave, too. You can’t be happy here.”
“That’s not an option for me,” Jake laughed, his face still hidden by his periwinkle sleeves. “There’s too much here for me to leave behind.”
“Josh?”
“Josh,” Jake repeated, voice wobbling. “Always gonna be Josh. As much as I’d love to have a week to myself without having to set up a million church activities or food drives or buying a trunkful of candles, I know he can’t handle the responsibility all on his own. It’s just easier if I do it so he can focus on writing sermons and doing confessions.”
“What happened to having faith in each other?”
“He doesn’t want to handle the responsibility on his own,” Jake corrected. “That’s another thing. In all honesty, I always thought if any of us were going to make it out of here, it’d be him.”
“Really?” Danny asked. From what he’d heard, Josh was more than happy with a microphone in his hand and adoring congregants standing at the ready to harmonize with his gospels. 
Jake calmed slightly, resurfacing from his arms to rest his chin and catch his breath. His round face was still flushed with emotion and Danny resisted a very genuine urge to brush his hair back from where it lay lingering on his cheeks, kept there by stray tears. 
“Josh…” Jake trailed off, his gaze finding comfort counting the slats in the blinds. “Josh struggles. I mean, we all do, but he…I don’t know. He doesn’t tell me much. I just know something keeps him convinced that he’s not worthy of being the pastor. Which is ridiculous, in my opinion.”
“Really,” Danny repeated, slightly more somber as he thought back to his first impressions of Josh and the immediate recognition whose source alluded him. It came to him in a wave, then, along with the fond ache of understanding.
“No one is more deserving,” Jake continued. “There’s no one as kind or as devoted as him. I think it’s just the church, well, the Convention, really, that has certain ideas that make him feel…unworthy, maybe. There’s an expectation he thinks he doesn’t live up to.”
“He’s..?” Danny trailed off, testing the waters cautiously in case the conclusion he’d jumped to was entirely wrong. 
“He’s my brother,” Jake said firmly, finally looking Danny head on. “And my best friend. That’s all that matters to me.”
Danny sat back in his chair, a long held breath (of relief?) escaping his chest as his understanding of Jake finally crystallized. He wasn’t really a sharp tongued, verse slinging Bible thumper with a million little hills to die on. Jake was a man who was first and foremost devoted to his family, and he was willing to forego all of his wants for their needs. He was a brother, and he feared for how the world would treat his brothers, both inside and outside his little world. And at the end of it, he’d withstand feeling forgotten if it meant they felt seen. He had never been angry, not really. Just hurt.
“You’re a good brother, Jake,” Danny insisted, flashing Jake a smile. “You and Sam should have a chat before the night is through. And I still believe you should think about leaving. Both you and Josh, actually. There’s a lot of world you’d really like to see. Obviously it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I do think it’d help.”
“You’re probably right,” Jake agreed. “And thank you. Sorry for, you know, everything.”
“It’s no problem,” Danny said genuinely. “I’m happy to help.”
“You are, aren’t you?” Jake laughed. “I’m surprised you’ve stuck around this long, honestly. Especially since you’re not religious. But I guess if you’ve put up with Sam for a year and not jumped overboard, you must be accustomed to some nonsense.”
“I don’t ‘put up’ with him,” Danny asserted. “It’s a privilege to get to spend so much time with him.”
Jake watched him with an arched, amused eyebrow, finally straightening in his chair to smooth his hair back and settle with his arms crossed. 
“So, what, I’m gonna wind up being your brother, too?”
“I mean…in a way,” Danny laughed, heart racing. “If you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” Jake answered, shaking his head slightly. “I figured. I mean, after he hit 21 and had no dating prospects or interest in dating at all, I assumed he was gonna forgo it completely. I just guessed he was more interested in his commitment to the church, like Josh.”
“Seems they both had their reasons to stay away from girls,” Danny noted.
“I suppose they did,” Jake said with a light laugh. “And still do. But, wow, Sam really does light up around you. I’ve never seen that with him.”
Danny smiled, blushing with warmth again as he tried to recall Sam’s expression when he was around. He’d always been smiley and wide eyed when looking at Danny, complete with pupils blown wide and overtaking the honey brown of his iris while he mapped Danny’s face. Wasn’t that how he’d been before they met? Apparently not. 
“You’ve got good intentions?” Jake interrogated, nudging Danny’s knee with his own. “You treat him right?”
“I do, I do,” Danny insisted, crossing his own arms and grinning. “I sure try. He’s easy to love.”
“You love him?”
“I…yeah, I do,” Danny affirmed, certain of his answer. “I didn’t even mean to say it like that, but, yeah. Is that alright?”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jake smiled, yet slightly subdued. “Just…be careful, okay? At least as long as you’re in Alabama. Especially in Shady Grove.”
“I know,” Danny said softly, a little more morose. “Sam warned me about that. Another reason he left.”
“Another reason we should go,” Jake replied reluctantly. “Right?”
“Right. Believe me, nowhere is going to be perfect, but I think you’ll like the version of Josh you’ll meet when he can be himself. I’ve loved watching Sam come out of his shell.”
“I wish I could’ve been there for that,” Jake whispered, choking up again. “He’s probably out there right now telling Josh how much he hates me.”
“Don’t say that.”
-
“I fucking hate him.”
“Sam.”
Sam had bolted the second he was out the front door, but Josh had known where to find him. Ever since Sam had been young enough to start throwing the tantrums that had made him so intolerable to their parents, he always fled to the dock at the bottom of the hill. Ever the mediator, Josh had spent his fair share of time on the rotting wood planks listening to Sam vent his frustrations as they plunged sticks and rocks into the murky water, eventually advising him with echoes of affirmations he’d heard from the mouths of older congregants. But they were adults now, and as Josh sat on the dock with Sam curled into his side, he realized with a faint panic that there were no more words to borrow but his own. 
“I do,” Sam insisted, his head resting on Josh’s shoulder as he glared out over the blurred surface of the small lake. “I really do. I’m done with him.”
“No, you’re not,” Josh sighed, throwing an arm around Sam’s shoulder and rubbing his arm. 
“Whatever,” Sam grumbled. “I want to be.”
“You don’t have any kind of hate in your soul, Sam,” Josh told him. “God takes it from you and leaves you even more kind and enduring.”
“Josh, stop,” Sam whispered, sending an embarrassed thorn right into Josh’s side. 
“Stop what?”
“The God stuff. Please. Just, not now, at least.”
“The ‘God stuff’ used to make you feel better.”
“No, it didn’t. I just didn’t say anything.”
They sat without speaking for a minute. Without their voices, the rushing rain sounds of the mayflies and the hush of the surrounding trees filled the void between them. 
“You could’ve said something,” Josh murmured. “Especially if it would’ve stopped you leaving.”
“It wouldn’t have,” Sam answered. “I’ve thought about it a lot. I think I would’ve left no matter what happened.”
“Oh,” Josh said, sounding small. “Did you know that before you left?”
“To some degree.”
“...I would’ve liked to know that, too, Sammy.”
Sam swallowed a guilty lump in his throat and sulked further against his brother. 
“Sorry,” Sam whispered. “It was selfish. It’s just…I was scared if I told you, you’d tell Jake, and then he’d tell Dad, and then you’d all hatch some master plan to keep me here.”
“I suppose that’s not an unfounded fear,” Josh admitted. “Remember when Jake had his little Sunday school girlfriend? I didn’t see him for, like, three days after Dad got wind of it.”
“Exactly. And then you would’ve written up some elaborate, guilt trippy sermon and sat me down in the kitchen and made me talk about my feelings for 2 hours minimum.”
Josh laughed a little, drawing a knee to his chest against a cool breeze that rolled off the lake.
“I’m pretty predictable, huh? Goodness.”
“And that wouldn’t have worked because if I talked about my feelings…”
“What?”
“...”
“What, you wouldn’t want to hear my feelings about the whole thing?”
“Well, yeah, but it’s too late for that now. And that’s not-”
“I haven’t even told you how I felt,” Josh pointed out. 
“I know how you felt,” Sam murmured, tears searing his waterline again. “Maybe it’s you and Jake with your creepy twin telepathy, but I felt you both the whole time, even all the way out in California. It’s horrible. Some days I couldn’t even enjoy myself because I could feel the disappointment two thousand miles away.”
Josh felt tears of his own threatening to spill over hearing that. It had never occurred to him that a lifetime of observing at the sidelines would’ve made Sam so accurately attuned to his family’s emotional patterns.
“Sammy,” Josh exhaled. “It pains me to listen to this. You don’t have to feel so guilty about everything.”
“Neither do you.”
Josh bristled slightly, lifting his cheek from Sam’s hair and looking down at him.
“What do you mean?” Josh asked gently. 
“I know you didn’t want to be pastor.” 
“Well, I love it now.”
Sam pulled away from Josh and crossed his legs under him, staring out over the water before staring Josh in the eye with a look so sincere and cutting that it made Josh lean back slightly.
“It’s okay if you don’t, you know,” Sam said evenly. “It’s okay if you’re upset.”
“What do I have to be upset about?” Josh teased, pushing Sam’s bony shoulder. “I live in this beautiful little town and get to spend my days with its beautiful little people talking about what I love. Plus I just got my baby brother back. I’d be a fool to complain.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Josh, cut it out,” Sam snapped, grief fizzling into frustration. “You sound like Dad at his worst. Why can’t you just drop the act for 2 seconds and admit you hate it here?”
Josh’s eyebrows flew up and he let out a reflexive laugh, anxiety coloring his tone as it fluttered cautiously out of him. Sam looked at him pleadingly, grabbing his brother's hand and gripping it tight.
“I know you didn’t want to be pastor,” Sam repeated firmly. “I know you wanted to go to college. And I…I know you’re gay.”
Josh immediately froze, falling silent as Sam stared into his eyes and what felt like his soul. 
“And that’s great,” Sam continued on, a tear escaping his eye and rolling down his cheek. “It can feel amazing if you’d just let yourself feel anything. Trust me, I know. You’re not trapped here, dude. You can still go to school and be yourself and be happy. You just have to put yourself first for the first time in your fucking life.” 
Josh, struck dumb, couldn’t do anything but breathe as his heart burned in his chest and pushed up hot tears that blurred his vision of his brother. His brother, who was undressing his façade with effortless impatience that made Josh begin to wonder just how transparent he truly was. Or was it only Sam, who was part of him in so many ways, that could see how blind Josh was? When he spoke in dizzying circles of hell and damnation, were his congregants shaking their heads in pity with the knowledge that all Josh was really doing was scaring himself back into submission?
“If you’re really okay with how your life is turning out, tell me now and we can never talk about it again,” Sam promised. “I swear to God. I will leave it alone.”
Josh hesitated further, pulling his hand from Sam’s and letting out a slow breath. Looking down at the cloudy water swaying underneath them, he wondered how big of an inhale of it would take for him to sink right to the bottom. 
“You’re right,” Josh confessed, his voice as soft and as uncertain as Sam had ever heard him. “I didn’t want any of this. It’s too much pressure. And the more I read the Bible and listen to the sermons from out in Texas and Georgia…the more I lose faith in what I’m supposed to be telling people.”
“Yeah,” Sam whispered, finding respite in Josh’s honesty. “I never really believed we were all born sinners.”
“I still kind of do,” Josh admitted. “But now I’m thinking there’s no amount of trying that’ll change that. I do all of this praying and writing and confession but I’m still…”
“It’s not sin, Josh. How you feel, how we both feel. There’s nothing to be saved from when it comes to that,” Sam insisted with quiet urging. “Seriously.”
“Maybe,” Josh whispered, picking at the skin around his nails as a dark coil of shame slithered in his stomach. “It just isn’t natur-”
“It’s like this,” Sam started, trying to put something into terms that would get through to him. “God is everyone and everything. Maybe that’s something I still agree with. And when you stop dedicating yourself to trying to get him to pay attention to you, you start to see Him or whatever “He” really is everywhere. You realize that you’re honoring Him by honoring yourself and doing what feels right to you. I don’t know if that’s something we’ll get rewarded for in heaven, but the reward of it on Earth is enough for me.”
“‘Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without knowing it’,” Josh recited with a nod. “Hebrews.”
“Sure. Yeah, actually, yeah. What I’m trying to say is you should live for yourself, Josh, not God or Dad or anyone. And if you still want God, you’ll find that without even trying.”
“Did you find Him with Danny?” Josh asked quietly. “In Texas?”
Sam blinked in surprise. He’d never thought about it like that, but…
“I guess I did,” Sam breathed, a smile drifting onto his face as he thought fondly of Danny. “At the start, at least. Now it’s all just him, no capital H.”
Everything was Danny to him, in complete honesty. Even though Sam only half believed the whole speech he was giving to Josh, he couldn’t deny the divinity he felt in the presence of his boyfriend. His best friend.
“I want that,” Josh murmured. His throat closed with emotion as he forced the words out, but it felt good to say. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d expressed wanting out loud, and based on the look on Sam’s face, he realized it may have never happened before.
“Go get it,” Sam said fiercely, his grin growing wildly when Josh’s eyes lit up a little at his encouragement. “You wanna come to Florida with us? We can find you a nice, alligator hunting boy.”
“Slow down, slow down,” Josh laughed, holding up his palms in surrender. “One step at a time.”
“Just Florida, then. We’ll ask Danny.”
As if summoned, there grew the sound of hushed voices and the sound of shoes on the wooden steps down to the deck, bodies hidden by the trees and the dark. Eventually they emerged, Jake hopping down from the last step that had been laid too high, bending at the knee from the impact as long legged Danny casually stepped down beside him. Sam and Josh turned to face them, leaning back on their hands and giving little waves. Without any words, they all knew the night’s battle had blown over, and Sam reached for Jake as he sat down between him and Josh. Jake received him with a hug, both of them bent into each other awkwardly as they murmured brief apologies to the other. Josh, unable to stay out of anything ever, leaned into their embrace and struggled to wrap his arms around both of them. Danny laughed as he settled next to Sam, their knees bumping as Sam attempted to wiggle out from the hold Josh had joyfully trapped them in.
“I’m just so grateful,” Josh wailed with phony passion. “I love my family!”
“You’d hug Mom and Dad like this?” Jake asked incredulously.
“...I love my brothers!”
All 4 of them laughed again as Josh finally released them, immediately proceeding to chastise Jake in a low voice as he fiddled with the frizz his hair had accumulated. Sam teetered backwards and landed with his back to Danny’s chest. Danny took advantage of the twins getting distracted and planted a kiss on top of Sam’s hair, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment at the consolation of Sam back in his arms after the whirlwind day they’d had.
“All good?” Danny whispered in Sam’s ear, smiling when Sam nodded and tilted his head to grin up at him.
“You?” Sam asked, humming when Danny mimicked his own nod back to him.
“Jake said we can stay the night in your old bedroom,” Danny informed him, repeating what Jake had said in the conversation on their way out of the house. “But he won’t make us breakfast.”
“Fuckin’ liar, he will,” Sam laughed, reaching a hand up and lovingly stroking Danny’s cheek as he utilized his other hand to smack Jake’s thigh. “What’s this about no breakfast? You want me to burn the place down trying to make toast?”
“I’m just not babying you anymore is all,” Jake announced, smacking Sam right back. “Danny agrees it’ll be good for our relationship.”
“Traitor,” Sam complained, smacking Danny on the cheek and squealing when Danny scoffed and smacked him back. Jake let out a brash cackle and Josh a defeated groan.
“You’re like the Three Stooges,” Josh whined. “Also, coming from you, Sam? That’s a bold accusation.”
“Wow!”
“Look who’s finally growing some balls,” Jake continued to cackle, hooking his elbow around Josh’s neck and pulling him into a side hug. 
“The state of my balls are none of your concern,” Josh muttered, which made Sam and Jake let out identical barks of laughter. The three of them got whipped up into a frenzy of bickering and Danny watched with a grin and a bloom of warmth flowering in his chest at the sight. There was something being healed here, he thought, and he could almost see the misguided little boys they’d once been as they tussled and giggled on the groaning dock.
It was strange to think how differently he had felt just a few hours ago. With Sam in Danny’s life, it seemed like things changing at the drop of a hat was something that Danny was going to grow well accustomed to as long as he was around. After that night, even with Sam squirming out of his grasp to try and push his brothers into the lake, Danny knew with complete certainty that he wanted Sam to stick around forever. It was time he told him that.
-
“How was your shower?”
“Arctic.”
Danny laughed and opened up the wing of the sheets and comforters to welcome in Sam, who came rolling in with his hair still wet. He was clad in linen pajamas from his teenage years that fell slightly too short on his wrists and ankles, while Danny lay under the blankets in only his boxers and socks. Even though Sam’s skin and hair was freezing cold from the shower and dampened his own skin, Danny pulled Sam against him and struggled with the blankets to bundle them together as best as he could. 
“There, now we’re a proper burrito,” Danny smiled, kissing the tip of Sam’s nose.
“I’ve never had a burrito,” Sam whispered in a hushed, secretive voice. Danny gasped.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not!”
“Well, that's okay, we'll remedy that. Plus, they’re not half as good as this,” Danny mumbled, using his grip on Sam’s back to pull him further into his bare chest and tuck Sam’s head into the crook of his neck. “Was the water really that cold?”
“Sub-zero,” Sam promised with a shiver. “Those assholes hogged all the hot water, I bet. Typical.” 
“I’ll warm you up plenty,” Danny purred, sliding his hand up Sam’s shirt and tracing his fingers along his cool skin with featherlight touch. Sam shivered again and giggled, nuzzling deeper into Danny’s neck.
“Not in my childhood bed you won’t, pervert,” Sam murmured against Danny’s skin, which seemed to be radiating great waves of heat like he were a human furnace. 
Said childhood bed had been a source of poorly hidden smiles from Danny, who finally admitted through a smothered laugh that the entire room looked like his grandma’s room back in Florida. No doubt done up and never redecorated for the daughter his mother had been expecting and never received, the wallpaper was pale, flowery and hung with silver crosses. Picture frames held stitched psalms that sat cheerfully on the vanity facing the bed. The double bed barely fit the both of them and, as Sam admitted through laughs of his own, the sheets and comforters that surrounded them now did, at one time, belong to his granny. When they’d first walked in, Sam had felt the loving ache of being remembered upon finding that the bed had been made and the room had been tidied for his return.
“How about some sleep, then?” Danny offered. “We’ve had a long day.”
“No kidding,” Sam quietly agreed. “I’m glad what happened did happen, shockingly enough. I really thought it was going to be a trainwreck. I should’ve had more faith in them, I guess.”
“You’ve got just the right amount of faith,” Danny hummed, eyes drifting open and shut as he grew sleepy from the perfume of Sam’s shampoo and his natural sweetness. “I’m really proud of you, baby. I know that was a lot for you. You’re a tough cookie.”
“I’m your tough cookie,” Sam murmured, tickling Danny’s neck with his nose and planting a lingering kiss on the pulse thrumming violently under his lips. Danny let out a breathy groan and gently dug his fingers into Sam’s back as Sam mapped a sleepy path of kisses along Danny’s neck.
“Easy, cookie,” Danny raggedly chuckled, smoothing his palm up and down Sam’s back as he fought in vain to stave off the growing pressure in his boxers. “I thought being in this bed was a no go.”
“It is,” Sam doubled down, lips dragging against Danny’s skin as he whispered. “Just saying thank you real quick.”
“You and your fuckin’ ‘thank you’’s,” Danny smiled, eyelids fluttering fully shut as he tilted his head back and gave Sam more area to cover. “This is like that first night all over again.”
“I was so embarrassed,” Sam giggled, his breath fanning out in warm bursts over the thin layer of saliva cooling on Danny’s skin. “I thought I’d gone and fucked up the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Sweetheart,” Danny cooed, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“No, I’m not,” Sam refused, pressing his cheek into the hollow of Danny’s collarbone.
“Yes, you absolutely are, my little California love.”
“Even after today?” Sam asked, sounding more uncertain than he wanted to. “I can’t think of a single other person on Earth who could’ve sat through all of that bullshit and still liked me at the end of it. Like, I really can’t apologize enough. Especially for Jake’s crazy ass.”
“Especially after today,” Danny insisted. Sam lifted his head from Danny’s chest and looked up at him with an unconvinced sneer, their noses brushing as Danny raked his fingers through Sam’s damp waves and searched for the fortitude to say what he felt. These were the moments where Danny felt it the strongest; Sam burrowed into him with his eyes as wide and wondering as the day they’d met. This was what love was to him.
“Sam,” Danny whispered sincerely, voice low and breathless. “If it meant I got to keep you by my side for 10 extra minutes, I’d live today over and over again. Do you understand? There is nothing you could put me through that I wouldn’t stick around for. Not when I’m this ridiculously in love with you.”
Sam’s already wide eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets at that, pupils expanding slowly as a nervous smile wound its way onto his flushed face. Danny smiled at him, feeling a flush of his own beginning to heat his body from his heart outwards. 
“You’re what?” Sam asked, leaning back slightly to look at Danny properly. 
“You heard me,” Danny teased, pinching the rosy apple of Sam’s cheek. “What do you think about that?”
“I think you’re crazy,” Sam laughed, shimmying in their cocoon of blankets and limbs to readjust his arms to wrap around Danny’s neck. “And may have been dropped on your head as a baby.”
“How did you know that?”
“It’s the only rational explanation as to why you’d go and say that,” Sam flouted breezily. 
“Is it really so hard to believe?” Danny asked, making a pitiful face that made Sam’s heart flutter. “You make it very easy to be in love with you, as a matter of fact. I don’t have to try at all.”
“I love you,” Sam murmured, in awe. It’s not like he was stupid, he knew Danny had to have loved him for them to have gotten as far as they had, but it still felt entirely unexpected to actually hear it. After a year of being startled awake by Sam’s sleep talking, patiently listening to stories of the worst of Sam’s childhood punishments, even sleeping sitting up in a jail cell in New Mexico when Sam’s newfound chutzpah found purchase with a rowdy biker, there was Danny at the end of it all. Patiently awaiting what fresh hell Sam would drag him into next. 
“I love you, too,” Danny assured him. “But are you in love with me?”
“Fucking obviously,” Sam blurted. “I'm so in love with you, Danny, fuck. I didn’t realize I even had to clarify that.”
“Of course you did! How else would I know?” Danny laughed, eyes glittering with glee and relief at Sam’s confirmation.
“I thought I had made myself plenty clear when I followed you across the country with zero hesitation. Twice.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
“Also, I mean, you popped my cherry, so.”
“You weren’t gonna give that up for just anyone, huh?” Danny laughed, his freckled nose crinkling. 
“Nope,” Sam smiled flirtatiously. “I was saving it for truuue looove.”
“Is that what this is?” Danny asked softly, his smile paling with uncertainty as he searched Sam’s dark eyes. 
“I hope so,” Sam breathed, his heart racing just as fast as it did when he was still learning to look at Danny without feeling faint. “Do you think it is?”
“I do,” Danny said sincerely, cupping Sam’s jaw. “Let’s say it is and go from there.”
“Works for me,” Sam agreed, nervously tilting his chin forward and melting from the inside out when Danny met him with a fiery kiss.
Sam was no stranger to the possessive pressure Danny preferred to apply when kissing, but there was something fierce behind this kiss that left Sam feeling utterly and completely loved. Lying in the same bed just over a year ago, Sam recalled how he’d bundle the blankets into a wall to press his back against as he slept, pretending it was someone to keep him steady and wake him in the morning. He thought of how that was something he didn’t need to dream about anymore. He thought of how lucky he was. How blessed.
“I’m starting to think Josh may have been right,” Sam sighed against Danny’s mouth, now tucked under him with Danny’s loose curls tickling his cheeks. “I think you’re my guardian angel.”
“You’re the angel here,” Danny insisted, thinking of Sam’s tattoo and feeling his thighs tighten unconsciously on either side of Sam’s hips. “Never gonna let anyone clip your wings ever again.”
“I’m serious,” Sam whined, twining his fingers in Danny’s hair and pulling him closer. “You’re the real deal.”
“Maybe Josh did get one thing right tonight.”
“Speaking of Josh…how do you feel about another passenger on our way to Florida?”
“He’s going to have to share the backseat with Jake if that’s the new plan, ‘cause I’m pretty sure I convinced Jake to pack up too.”
“Family road trip,” Sam sang. “I hope your parents don’t mind.”
“No, they’ll love a full house,” Danny answered. “And my sister will love peer pressuring them into doing stupid shit.”
“I can’t wait to see them drunk for the first time,” Sam confessed with a laugh. “They’ll be fucking ridiculous.”
“I don’t know if you’ll want to see them like that if they’re anything like you were the first time you got drunk,” Danny teased, nipping at Sam’s earlobe. “I’ve still never heard you talk like you did that night.”
“Stop that,” Sam giggled, muffling a squeak when Danny kissed the sensitive skin under his ear. “I don’t even remember half of that night.”
“Your brain is protecting your dignity,” Danny joked, his voice low and warm against the shell of Sam’s ear. “You were kind of a slut.”
“Yeah?” Sam asked weakly, panting slightly from so little. Danny tended to do that to him.
“Oh, yeah. Big time. You cried when I wouldn’t put it in.”
Sam immediately slapped a hand over Danny’s mouth and shushed him theatrically, attempting to smother him when Danny laughed hysterically and tried to lick and bite at his fingers.
“What if they heard you!” Sam hissed, his wrists now pinned beside him as Danny held him down with visible triumph.
“Then I’ll apologize!” Danny laughed, jostling as Sam tried to wrench himself out from under him. “You’re the one making the mattress squeak all suspiciously. This is a Christian household, Sam, I mean really.”
“Shut up!”
“You shut up!”
“I hate you,” Sam declared quietly, sharp eyes trained up at Danny with a glimmer of mischief dancing at his waterline. Danny smiled fondly and lowered himself so their chests were pressed together. He cocked his head, looking Sam over with his hazel eyes lush with emotion.
“And I will love you ‘til the day I die, Sam Kiszka,” Danny announced, pressing his lips to Sam’s with careful appreciation and keeping them there for the hours that followed. 
In the morning, they’d clamor and argue and shed tears before pulling out of Shady Grove with a body in every seat of Danny’s beat up little truck. They’d follow the fate line to Florida to settle and heal and wander from the path like they always did. But that night, they had nothing to do but lay under the blanket of the whistling Alabama sky and love each other.
They’d find in the years and decades that followed, it never got much more complicated than that.
~~
Taglist: @holdingup-fallingsky @milojames16 @spark-my-nature @bladenotblaze @currentlyfangirling10
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ionobjectshow · 2 hours
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Hi again! I just wanna say I'm sorry that you had to go through people infantilizing Cracklin because he's autistic.... I don't know if they assumed that he had it just because. But it's pretty stupid. He is not a minor to begin with. And Chief is shown to genuinely care about Cracklin in the show. He is stern, but well intentioned. So, seeing that they're both adults. I personally don't see it as problematic.
As of the art style of the show, I really like how the designs are! ^^ each character has their own distinct limb shape, the faces give me a hint about their personality and I just really like the darker theme compared to what we usually get in object shows.
I hope people in the OSC experiment with different styles like your show. With a variety of themes!
☢️ Hello!! Thanks a lot for your understanding. ☢️ Yeah… I'm really tired of all the problems I had because of Cracklin's infantilization. About Chief: Chief was a little rude to Cracklin in the first episode, but it’s understandable: the middle-aged character spent a week alone in a burning nuclear power plant and was under great stress. And then this yellow autistic creature appears, instantly expressing his adoration: 3 Chief is quite closed man and it is difficult for him to show positive emotions and friendliness. But he gradually got used to Cracklin and I REALLY hope that this will become more noticeable in episode 3. ☢️ Thanks for the kind words! In fact, I don't really understand why wider limbs caused so much indignation among the osc. If I can understand why Chief is scary (but he is supposed to be an adult NOT a cute man // which does not change the fact that this is my favorite character and he is gorgeous to me), then Cracklin's face seems very cute.. probably... I hope that at least the backgrounds won't be called ugly. I worked really hard on them /nervous stimming /self-irony ☢️ Speaking of experiments… I'm very worried about the fact that my show shows not only objects, but also ordinary humans. For a long time I was afraid that the fact that the history of objects is tightly intertwined with the history of humans would not be welcome in the community. I think about this very often. But the presence of humans is just as important to this story as the presence of objects.
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Hey! Your Hunger AU has me Fucked Up and I was wondering if you have any more specifics on what (potentially) the Life Series might have been like? Plus any particular reactions of the Hermits afterwards (and Grian’s own feelings)? I know this has already been asked but please answer if you have any more/other details, this is the angst point point that my brain is Fixed On
Oh my gods okay first of all thank you so much for the kind words and your even kinder comment on ao3, it genuinely made my day when i saw it, it was so nice 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i took a screenshot and shoved it in the folder where i put all my other nice comments and now it is immortalized Forever ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
SECOND OF ALL this has been sitting in my askbox for way too long because i truly wanted to give like, a really nice thought-out and detailed reply to your question but alas after finishing chap 10 my brain is SOUP so thats,,, not happening anytime soon,,,, auaghh 😭😭😭😭😭 about all i can tell you are the broad strokes that in my head what happened was he sorta snapped mentally, asked people to join a secret game during the world's worst fugue state, fucked with their memory codes so they couldnt remember how or why they were on this unfamiliar server, and fed on their confusion and fear until things spiraled and the game had them truly believing their final deaths were permanent. Lifers' Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Vacation type beat 😭😭😭💀💀💀
As for reactions, i know each time they came back from the games they were VERY freaked out and traumatized, and for a few months afterward they'd feel incredibly paranoid until it tapered off back into normalcy, only for it to eventually happen again. Rinse and repeat
Grian's own feelings were pretty much a mix of horror, guilt, and disgust at himself-- but also a little bit of relief for being able to feed properly for once. Which, ofc, recycled itself right back into the disgust and shame. Mans was not having a good time over here either
Dksnksndke okay thats kinda all ive got for you rn, hopefully i can come back to this soon and give you a FAR more detailed rundown of what happened, how it happened, and how that impacted everything going on in canon, but for rn thats all ive got 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 CHEERS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVELY COMPLIMENTS!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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mightymizora · 2 days
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Hello mighty mizora! Big fan here of your work the way you write is so mesmerizing honestly im always in awe!! I have a small question i hope its not annoying i've asked this question to another writer who i liked once but they were so mean to me back so i understand that maybe its not the best question to be asked but i have ADHD and i need alittle direction so i hope maybe you can give me some (its totally okay if you dont want to ! ) Do you have any pointers to someone who has never wrote anything past school essays and to do lists if they want to start writing fanfiction and have it be nice and expressive? I have so many ideas i write them down write 5 sentences thats like a summray maybe a few sentences of some scenes of romance sorta like a small outline it feels so dry... And i dont know what to do past that... Essays had structures and preferred starting intros and all that but i feel lost when i try and start a story, i know myself and i know once i start i will not shut up but starting feels like a wall and i dont know how to climb yk ?
Hey pal!
Firstly thank you so much and also I'm sorry you had a bad experience with another writer. You've asked this so nicely. And apologies for this being delayed I thought I had clicked post but I'd saved the draft again!
So I'm not going to claim to be an expert in this but the way I approach this is:
I start with what I want to say with a piece. What do I want to explore? What do I hope the reader will take away from it? I then jot those down for myself at the top of the document, just like you describe with your summary! If this changes as I discover things that's okay, but it's kind of my road map.
I usually also start in the middle of some action, or with a line of dialogue. Honestly you don't have to do this at all but the joy of fanfiction is you don't have to do loads of exposition! People know who the characters are and you can dive into things! It means you get stuck right in which I personally like.
I also don't write chronologically! I think we can get so stuck on things. I think of writing a story like pruning a garden, so I might write some "holding sentences" per scene and then work on scenes as they come to me. It's a good way to build up the bits as you are inspired. You can see this really clearly in a piece like Blood and Bone which is very sparse, some of the holding sentences in that fic are still in there.
When it comes to dialogue, I use the actioning method used in acting and I work out what people want to do by saying something. I like when characters don't say things outright, but say a hundred words by what they don't say. A character can say I love you, and it's good, but what if they say I don't want you to leave? What is left in the gaps?
When it comes to description I think I have a long way to go honestly but again. What are people seeing, smelling, tasting, seeing touching? What is their primary sense? Does it evoke anything else for them, or are they entirely in the moment? This can vary from character to character.
Another thing to think of is variant rhythm. Once you have a first draft down, go over it again and look at sentence structure. Can you add variation by changing the length of sentences? Can you tell a story in the rhythms you use? I'm a big fan of long run on sentences in romance showing a character losing control, for example.
And the big secret honestly is... you might well find your writing a bit dry! I find mine dry! I look at it squinting, asking whether the sex is sexy or if it's just way too out there or just completely misses the mark. We only really know when other eyes get to see it.
I hope that's helpful!
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yourfavouritefighter · 6 months
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I love your art but jsyk it's "yin yang" not "ying yang"! ying-yang primarily means an overabundance of something
Thank you! I really appreciate the correction, I’m not to great with my spelling!
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