#and made some days more bearable than they would have otherwise been

[missmugiwara]

If I May Be So Bold

Summary: fem!reader x Rengoku // You, Rengoku, Uzui and the boys go to the Red Light District. You agree to go undercover as an oiran, but you can't help feel some type of way for the Flame Hashira. Perhaps this mission will bring you two closer. Warning: 18+, NSFW, slight smut, some dubious consent (in the form of kissing), swearing, mutual pining, friends to lovers Note: Took me forever to edit! This is a bit of a long read. Hope you all enjoy!

Everything went smoother than planned. Tengen and Rengoku did a fantastic job talking you and the three young slayers up (although the Hashiras' good looks really helped). On the first night everyone had successfully infiltrated a house in the Red Light District. Ironically, Inosuke and you had been snatched up together for House Ogimoto. Besides that, it was a relief to know someone was with you to make this a tad more bearable. So off went Tengen and Rengoku to do some snooping around as you gathered intel with the boar-headed boy.

A light knock at the door to your room interrupted your thoughts.

Softly, you called, "Come in."

When Rengoku slid open the shoji door, you blinked in shock . Instantly, you hopped up from your seat at the vanity. Strange that he was here even though you agreed to meet for a report tomorrow. Yet by the look on his face, something was on his mind. Quickly, you trotted to his side, urgently closing the door before turning to him. Gladly, you would listen to Rengoku's troubles. Without thought, you grabbed his hands in your own.

"Kyojuro, what are you doing here? Did something happen?"

For a split second, he did not respond as his striking eyes took a moment to gaze upon the beguiling disguise that adorned you. Then, those beautiful fire-like eyes flickered to meet yours.

He smiled gently, running his thumbs over the backs of your hands once, "Nothing at all! I came to check and see if you were alright."

A pause stilled the air. You could feel your cheeks heat slightly, and you snickered. Was he serious right now? You were a Hashira too - one of the strongest members of the corps just like he was. Even if Rengoku had become a Hashira years earlier than you, you were still just as strong. Plus, you were Tengen's tsugoku a while back, so Rengoku knew you were trained well and by someone he respected. It was not like him to worry like this.

"Why?" you shook your head - realizing that sounded kind of rude, "I mean, I'm fine! You know I can take care of myself."

"I know, but… I just had to make sure."

His eyes said otherwise. Something was bothering him. The relationship between you two allowed you to understand each other deeply and emotionally. After all, you had been close friends for years. Together, you had been through a lot. There was never anything that prevented you from speaking your mind in front of him because he truly respected you - mind, body, and soul.

A warm smile graced your lips at the sweet gesture. A slight flush heated up your cheeks. You looked down. The honorable Flame Hashira holding the hands of the lovely Hashira-turned-oiran. It warmed your heart knowing he was comfortable enough to do this. Rengoku could be very protective when it came to you, so it made sense that the possibility of being with other men in this district bothered him greatly. He just hid it well. Really, he did not have to worry.

But thanks to Tengen's flashy ideas, you were an oiran for the next few days. An oiran. Rengoku - just knowing him - probably was not accustomed to women of this caliber.

"Are you sure you're not here for… something else?" You asked with lidded eyes. Slowly, you moved your hands to brush up against Rengoku's chest as his face blossomed into a blush.

"Uh, n-no! No, I-"

You tilted your head to the side with a grin.

"Just messing with you! I appreciate your concern, but really… I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."

The Hashira was stiff for a few seconds in recovery from your bold teasing. What a cruel joke, and he played right into your hands. After another moment, Rengoku softened his gaze. His parted lips turned into a smile.

"Very well! Just let me know if you ever need me, my beautiful oiran. I'll be close."

His beautiful…? Was that a slip of the tongue? It couldn't be because Rengoku was not someone who made mistakes. You shook off your flustered state, taking your focus back to the mission. You had to make sure everyone would be safe. So when the Flame Hashira began to walk off, you realized you wanted to protect him too from anything. Even if he was strong. Ah, perhaps that's what he was conveying earlier. Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed the fabric of his uniform. Your fingers curled around his arm.

"Wait!"

He froze before the door could even slide open. Gently, he turned towards you with a look of surprise. Using all your strength to muster up the courage for what you would say next, you simply stared at the ground and bit your bottom lip. Rengoku could sense something was not right much like you did earlier for him.

"Tell me what's wrong." he instantly uttered out in a low, protective tone.

A pause.

And then you broke out into laughter.

"I can't let you leave looking like that!" you grinned widely.

Kyojuro's brow twitched in surprise at the sudden change in your mood. He seemed amused.

"Oh? Like what?"

Still holding onto his arm, you tugged gently at it. He was captivated as you pulled him close to your body, following your movements about the room.

"People will get suspicious. Come on, you have to look the part!" you danced over to the vanity, searching for lipstick. Once you found it, you ran it over your lips a few times, puckering them in the mirror.

Then, you turned to Rengoku who simply blinked at you.

"I… don't understand. Please tell me what you mean!"

There was a blush at this cheeks. The color complimented his sweet eyes. You hummed while walking over to him. Still smiling sweetly, you ran your hands over his shoulders.

"Do you trust me?" your hands froze once they reached his neck.

Rengoku looked at your lips for some time before he darted his eyes to meet yours.

"Of course I do!"

"Good boy."

Before Rengoku could even speak, your hands grabbed at the collar of his uniform, ripping it open to pop a few buttons off. Rengoku's breath hitched in his chest, and he seemed to gasp - that is, before he stopped himself as you exposed his neck and part of his chest by running your manicured hands underneath the cloth and over his skin.

"Please forgive me!"

With your hands at his collar again, you pulled him in and slammed your mouth to his neck. His eyes widened as you held him for a few seconds, then you breathily released him with a pop of your lips. A swollen, light bruise plus a bright, red lipstick stamp of your mouth was now evident on his neck. Rengoku was stunned. You grinned sheepishly before pulling the Flame Hashira in again, smothering his face with kisses over and over - then all the way down his neck and part of his chest. Once done with your work of art, you pulled away to leave Rengoku completely frozen in place before he broke out into a goofy, lopsided smile. He was blushing profusely. Had he ever been kissed like that before? Had you ever kissed anyone like that before?

"There." you smoothed the uniform at this chest, smiling proudly, "All for the mission."

"Yes! For the mission!" he repeated, but there was something in his tone when he uttered those words and a smirk upon his face. You gingerly let go of his uniform, apologizing for making a mess out of him - blushing as you kept staring at his lips. Did you cross a line with Rengoku? Hopefully not. But as you kept focusing on those gorgeous lips of his, you felt butterflies in your stomach. It was the only part you didn't kiss because Rengoku was your friend. You couldn't possibly test this friendship further. You would never want to do that.

The sound of his voice brought you back to earth, and his hand upon your cheek grounded you. He leaned in to touch his forehead to yours.

"You really are a tease," Rengoku whispered, eyes becoming lidded, "and you always have been."

Time seemed to have stopped as you both stood there momentarily, just gazing into each other's eyes. His hand was so hot - it felt like it was setting your entire being on fire. You froze in place while clutching your hands to your chest. Just fixated on his glowing eyes. He certainly made a flustering mess of you. It seemed Rengoku knew how flustered you were, and he seemed to be enjoying it immensely.

He smiled so widely that his eyes closed. "Well, I shall be going now!"

What a shame. He was leaving already when you both only wanted more. Although, neither of you dared to say it outloud because you were just friends. This made you both all the more foolish.

"Uh, y-yes!" you dumbly responded, eyes still sparkling from this intimate moment. At how unexpectedly sexy Rengoku was. At how flirtatious he was. You followed the Hashira to the door as he placed his hand on it. He paused and looked to you one more time.

"There is… one more thing." he murmured.

"Of course! What is it?"

"If I may be so bold… you missed a spot."

Your eyes widened. No, he couldn't be! He wasn't referring to his lips, was he?

Was he!?

Because he seemed distracted enough by all the bites and kisses all over him, you were hoping he had forgotten about that little detail. Well, actually - you weren't hoping that at all. But this was so unexpected! Oh gosh, and kissing him? Rengoku? On the mouth? Oh yes, that would be amazing, but wait, right now? You broke out into a sweat.

"Um… come again?"

"Apologies, but won't it look rather suspicious that the only part of me you haven't kissed is my lips?"

By the look on your face, shocked eyes and parted lips, not responding to his question at all - Rengoku twitched nervously. Perhaps he asked too much of you! And instantly, he bowed.

"I apologize! I should have never suggested such a thing! That was inappropriate of me to even-"

"It's okay!"

He froze this time.

"It's okay. I don't mind. It's… all for the mission, right?" you bashfully smiled.

After a brief pause, Rengoku whispered, "Yes. All for the mission." And so you stepped forward, placing your hands on his shoulders. He leaned in, and you leaned in all the while both of you uttered apologies and whatnot for moving so slow, for pretty much any stupid little thing that didn't even need an apology. Stuttering voices, trembling hands, flushed cheeks - really, what a sight to behold as two confident, adult hashira were fumbling around in nervousness. Allowing this little moment to crumble their defenses.

Quickly, you pressed your lips against each other's, and you both parted. The red lipstick painted a pretty picture of your mouth that was once on Rengoku's. This was not the ideal moment in which you wanted to kiss for the first time, and you wished you could have made it last a bit longer, but you were friends. Just friends. At least you got to taste him if just for a little bit. Seeming as neither of you two made a movement, Rengoku responded first to ease the silence.

"I'll come again tomorrow. Good night."

"Good night, Kyojuro."

All for the mission.

Stupid.

Rengoku did come back the next evening for he always kept his word. He insisted it was just to check in and make sure you were safe. You told him everything was perfect and that no one had bothered you all day. In fact, Rengoku appeared nightly, and every night he reminded you to mark him up to your heart's content.

Including his sweet mouth.

Oh, because it was for the sake of the mission! To protect you both, obviously! Nothing more. Who were you to deny him? He was the expert here on missions and had been a Hashira longer. Happily, you agreed. Yet how much fun it was, how good it felt, but all for the sake of work and protecting one another. The low giggles, the flirty whispers - all of it so tantalizingly sweet and left you burning for more. So this display of unkempt clothes, disheveled hair, and kissing repeated itself every night. No matter how naive you both might have been.

However, one particular night was quite worrisome. Rengoku appeared at your door as usual, and you swiftly pulled him in - detailing him right away of some potential rumors Inosuke heard. You were so frazzled by the intel that you were quickly scooting Rengoku out of the room in a hurry.

"I'll get more information, just please be safe! Inosuke and I will meet with Tengen later! I wish I could have done more, but I'm working on it!"

His feet skidded across the floor as he tried to stop you from pushing him. You slid the door open, pushed him abruptly into the hall, and were about to slam it shut but Rengoku whipped around and caught it in his hand. He then grabbed your arm quickly in turn. You gasped in surprise at the way his hand needily grasped at your skin. The door slid shut behind him so quickly as he pushed you back into the room.

Rengoku pulled you to him so roughly that you nearly bounced off his chest from the impact. His arms around your waist kept you steady as he clutched your body close. Your face was on fire as you locked eyes - a look of something ignited in his, a look of arousal in yours. Your fingers gripped his uniform tightly at the chest. Before you could speak, Rengoku slammed his mouth against yours. You let out a squeak. Rengoku's one hand was in your hair while the other arm was so strongly, tightly wrapped around your waist. You froze in shock, but then you melted because god, you needed him badly. This was different than the other times you two had messed around and innocently kissed - though it was not innocent in the least. Rengoku had never embraced you so desperately before. After a few seconds, he pulled away. You stared at him with wide, frazzled eyes.

Rengoku grinned, "Oh! Apologies! You know… we just need to look the part! All for the sake of the mission! You nearly forgot."

"Yes!" you yelped with a stupid, lovestruck smile, "The mission!"

The mission?

The mission?

Fuck the mission.

What about that kiss!?

That was not like the quick pecks from before! Because Rengoku did that with feeling. You couldn't pretend anymore! You wanted more, you wanted him, and you always wanted him. For as long as you could remember. But you never did anything because he was just a friend, and you were frightened that that friendship may be ruined. Did he… want you just as badly? Oh, but this was all wrong. It was not the way you wanted to woo him. This had been pushed on for far too long now to solely be considered something two friends did.

Rengoku quickly excused himself for the evening and bid you good night as you stood there, frozen and hot and bothered. Snapping out of it, you reached for his wrist. When the Flame Hashira turned to you with concerned eyes, you gripped his wrist tighter between your hands.

"Stay!"

There was such a needy tone in your voice, but you didn't care how embarrassing it was. You already made a fool of yourself every single night with these lies - kissing just for the mission? What was that crap?

"Please? For me." you begged. Your voice was wavering, a slight crack to it as you cleared your throat. It seemed you were about to cry, and it was not something you did often in front of him. His eyes pulsed at the pleading look you gave him. Rengoku did not hesitate in the slightest.

"Of course. I'm always here for you."

Again, he joined you in your room. It was wonderful that he did, but now that you had gotten to this point… you both were unsure of what to do next. Just like the first night, you were holding his hands in your own - just staring into his eyes while frowning, blinking again and again to stop tears from falling.

Rengoku's breath hitched in his chest at the sight. No. He couldn't stand seeing you like this, on the verge of tears and all. Something was making you sad. And even worse, for a split second, he thought - did he cause this? He would never allow it. Another moment of reflection and Rengoku was certain what to do next.

"This is foolish."

You blinked, "I… Oh… what is?"

He cradled your face in his hands gently after you sniffed, an attempt at trying to choke back tears. It was such a soft hold, and you craved that longing touch from such a gentle soul like Rengoku. Only Rengoku could ever do. He ran his thumbs somewhat roughly over your cheeks, smearing any makeup upon your face.

"This disguise. Everything. It's foolish! I'm sorry Tengen came up with such a ridiculous idea. I'm sorry he threw you into this." he smiled gently, and you blinked when he removed a hand from your face.

Lips pursed in thought, he titled his head to the side and hummed at you with lidded eyes. His tongue poked out between his lips, and he brought his thumb to them. He licked his thumb, then ran it slowly over your own lips. An attempt at washing away the lipstick with his own saliva. You whimpered at the touch. The gesture was so incredibly hot and watching him with those gorgeous eyes made it even hotter.

Your heart thumped in your chest especially when his hands moved to your hair. He gracefully took out any pins or accessories, and although such a simple act, it was so intimate. Letting your hair cascade down your face, you blushed when you tilted your head downward to just stare at his chest. When Rengoku was done, he softly placed the hair accessories at your vanity. He glided back to you, holding your face so sweetly in his hands once again.

"Seeing you like this, all dressed up and with this make-up… as tempting as it is, I find you much more beautiful without it."

His thumbs brushed against your cheeks. Rengoku's lips parted in deep thought, and he looked at you with such adoration in his beautiful eyes. You laid your hands against his chest as your face heated up. His hands moved down your arms to wrap around your waist. Your eyes became lidded, and his expression soon mirrored yours as you both slowly leaned in. He paused and ran a single finger over your lips.

"I won't be able to control myself much longer." he breathed. "Please, I need you to kiss me."

"Is… is it for the mission?"

"No. It's because I would like you to."

You grinned while stroking the side of his face, "Well, good. Because I definitely want to."

With that, he closed the gap between your mouths. Your eyes shut immediately when his soft, perfect lips pressed against yours. A simple, gentle kiss - but when you let out a moan against his mouth, Rengoku's arms tightened around your waist to increase the friction between your bodies. Your hands shot up to grab his hair, deepening the kiss as your mouths began to slowly move against one another's, leaving gentle smacking sounds to fill the air. He groaned once your tongue ran along his bottom lip, and in turn he gently bit down on it. You heart was thundering in your ribcage when you pulled away, only to find the Flame Hashira smirking.

"May I stay even longer?"

A chuckle escaped past your lips. You did not even care how ridiculous your expression was or how ridiculous the half-smeared makeup on your face must have looked.

"You can stay as long as you want."

And you leaned in again to lock lips, throwing you arms around each other. His mouth moved so quickly and desperately against your own, letting out small groans between your whines of pleasure. You pressed your body closer to his, hips grinding needily against his own. Your tongue danced across his bottom lip again, into his mouth, before he lifted you up by your thighs to wrap them around his waist and seated you at the vanity, knocking over anything in the process when your bottom slid across the surface. Mouths still connected, Rengoku's hand parted your thighs further, and you moaned when one skillful hand brushed up the inner length of your thigh underneath your kimono. Swiftly, you grabbed his other hand and placed it atop your breast, but Rengoku immediately pulled back. Your eyes snapped open to meet his, and he was blushing profusely at the sight of you two - hot and bothered and needy. You threw your hands off him.

You flushed, "I-I'm sorry! Is everything okay?"

Rengoku took a moment to steady his breath, and he leaned in with a smile on his face. He pressed his forehead to yours.

"No, I'm sorry. I can't do this. Not here, not like this." he spoke between pants, and you stroked his cheek with your hand.

A blush appeared on your face again. With a determined look in his eyes, and his usual confident smile, he gripped your hand between his own.

"Please wait for me! Wait until after this mission is over, and I can take you on a proper date!"

"Kyojuro, I -"

"Well, well, well." Tengen smirked, who was seated at the edge of your window.

Rengoku and you peeled yourself off each other, scrambling to look decent as you both turned to see the sound hashira. When did he arrive? How long was he there? Ugh, he was always like this! It drove you nuts when you were a tsuguko.

"I've been waiting for you two to get together for forever now!"

"How long have you been here!?"

"Not important." Tengen shrugged his shoulders, "I'm disappointed I caught you two goofing off when we should be working." he smirked again, and you arched a brow at this.

Because the way Tengen said that made it seem like he wanted this to happen. As his former student, you knew him well.

"But I can overlook it because," his eyes became lidded, "this was all a part of my flashy plan. Though I wasn't expecting this to happen so soon. Way to go, pupil!"

"TENGEN. I AM A HASHIRA. NOT YOUR STUDENT ANYMORE."

Rengoku let out a roar of a laugh at your flustered state. He waltzed right over to Tengen and slapped a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"How embarrassing for us! I am utterly ashamed! Apologies, Tengen! It won't happen again!"

You groaned in defeat. Of course Rengoku would laugh it off. The two Hashira turned toward you, both smiling and quickly getting over whatever this was.

"Ah, and I heard something interesting, Rengoku!"

Tengen readjusted himself at the window, "I heard our stunning courtesan here wasn't getting any calls, so I wondered why and went snooping around."

"O-Oh, did you now!?" Rengoku blurted out.

"Yes, and you'll never believe what I heard!" Tengen smirked wickedly, "I heard from the owner that every night, a gentleman of yellow and red hair drops a pouch of coins onto the desk asking for our sweetheart here. The owner said this man's exact words were: 'This should be more than enough to cover her. No one shall have her. She's mine.' Wanna tell us about that, Rengoku?"

His face was on fire as Tengen smiled sweetly. Not a care in the world from the Sound Hashira. You cupped a hand to your mouth to stifle your giggles, grinning innocently at Rengoku's reddening blush.

Well.

Tengen could be reliable as much as he drove you crazy.

#demon slayer fanfic #kny fanfic #rengoku x you #rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #demon slayer x reader #mugi writes

[ravencincaide]

A Beauty In His Eyes

Summary:  You were extremely self conscious about your appearance and your body, making beauty treatments, including massage, a luxury you could not afford. OR the time Chuuya asked you to join him on his massage day and you did not have the heart to tell him no. 

Pairing: fem! Reader who is self conscious/body issues x  Chuuya Nakahara

Inspired by Sweetober prompt 15: Massaging 

Warnings: Cursing, being uncomfortable with ones own appearance, fluff and sweetness

______________________________________________________________

You did not know if you wanted to do it. More importantly, you didn’t know if you could. 

Wiping your sweaty hands on a tissue, you looked your body up and down in the full length mirror of the elegant stall- a dressing room completely devoted to you and you alone. You were dressed in a simple bikini- the closest you would ever go to being nude and a white fluffy bathrobe thrown over your shoulders, waiting to be tied into place with a large, thick and long equally fluffy belt. On your feet was a pair of simple yet high quality sandals with no socks, showing off your home made manicure. The colour was an endearing red- one you desperately wished you had removed before coming to the salong.

At the time, painting your nails felt like a fun and luxurious thing to do- a way to make your otherwise bland self more appealing. Right now though it felt sloppy and unprofessional- cheap fake against the expensive interior of the dressing room. You felt like an imposter who was not meant to be in this aristocratic space. Yet here you were, studying each and every crevasse, stretch mark and scar on your less-than-perfect body. 

God what were you doing? Why did you agree to this? 

“M’girl, is everything okay?” You heard Chuuya’s concerned voice echo through the door, followed by the gentle rapping of knuckles. A melodic sound that tapped out an all too familiar tune. A joke between you that would normally keep your anxiety at bay. 

Not today. 

“ Just a moment Chuu” you called, moving to quickly wipe your hands on the reminisce of the soaked serviette. Then you tossed it in the bin, cursing under your breath as you felt the palms of your hands growing sweaty in seconds. Again. Your heart pounded loudly, the quick thuds echoing in your ears like thunder. It was so loud, you were certain Chuuya would be able to hear it through the door separating you two. This made you feel all the more nervous. Your eyes scanned the room for anything to wipe your hands on- failing to see any paper you sloppily wiped on the expensive inside material of the bathrobe, promising yourself it was going to be a one time occasion. 

“ Sweets, you've been in there twenty minutes already, hmm. No one takes so long to get naked!” Chuuya’s voice sounded amused- teasing even, but you could hear the undertone of worry in it. A slight shake which showed his concern for you. Along with the heavy sigh- a worry that you would back out despite your promise- the metaphorical chain around your neck which prevented you from leaving. You both knew you hated showing off your body, but you hated breaking a promise even more than that. Especially to Chuuya. 

“ Just give me another five, okay?” you called out to him, your voice unnecessarily loud. A pitch so high it would be able to crack glass. You flinched at it then hurried to tie the bathrobe haphazardly around your waist. The last thing you needed was for Chuuya to get worried, stroll in, and get some weird idea about what you were doing, staring and studying your almost naked body in the full length mirror. Despite your skin being now almost completely covered by the soft material, somehow it did not make you feel any better. 

Somehow seeing yourself like this actually made you feel worse. 

The only thing you wanted to do was change back into your regular clothes, covering each inch of your skin in lace and silk, shapewear and other material until your reflection was bearable for you to look at. Makeup to hide the marks on your face- perfume to mask your smell. Hair out- extensions in. Not beautiful but at the very least not disgustingly ugly. 

“ Sweetheart?” You heard Chuuya call out again, his voice much more worried this time. Much more sober. You licked your lips, about to reply when you heard the door click then open. It gave away to his hand with ease and into the room he strolled. Perfect as always. The fancy suit and coak were gone, replaced by a bathrobe identical to your own. It was tied perfectly around his waist gracefully, like picture perfect art. The white of the robe made his ginger ponytail pop even more than usual. His lips were set into a straight line, his eyes quickly scanning the dressing room for anything out of the ordinary- anything that would not meet his high standards. 

The standards that borderline ridiculous whenever it was something concerning you. 

You looked away from the mirror and his reflection. If there was anything in that room that felt out of place and ‘lacking standard’ then it was you. But you didn’t dare utter those words aloud- you knew how important these self care days were for Chuuya. The wonders they did to his sanity, and you were not about to stress him with your own troubles when he was already facing hell at work. And especially not when he basically begged you to join him- a few extra moments together- a glance at the private Chuuya not many knew. 

“ What’s the matter?” Chuuya questioned as he finished scanning the room. Deeming it satisfactory he came to stand beside you. Then with gentle hands he turned your body until you were facing him, a hand under your chin kept your gaze locked with his. “ What’s wrong baby?” 

You swallowed, licked your lips then looked down at the floor as a wave of shame and self hate washed over you. “ I don’t know if I can do it” you admitted, your lip quivering. You didn’t want to see his disappointed expression, so you studied the floor instead. Like a guilty child- a failure. 

 Chuuya’s hand rested on your shoulder, his other on your waist as he pulled you a tiny bit closer to himself. He stayed silent for a long moment before he broke the silence; “ You tied it too hard sweets, let me” he muttered, his blue orbs focused on yours. His statement made your head snap up. Then you looked down again, a dark red colouring your cheeks. The same shade as your nails. You gave a weak nod, holding your breath as he undid the belt of your bathrobe. His eyes just once glancing down at you and the plain, nude coloured bikini, before he turned his attention back to your face. A dusty pink blush covered his cheeks as his hands carefully worked on folding the bathrobe over your body and then tying the belt more loosely around your waist. Now it was a little bit easier to breathe “ You’re beautiful m’darlin” he mumbled his lips finding your forehead. “ So beautiful.” 

You shuddered slightly, tears gathering in your eyes. A lump in your throat. You opened and closed your lips, silent protests you didn’t dare speak aloud. The darkest thoughts in your brain were twisting his words into something sinister- something ‘not Chuuya’. “ So beautiful” he said again more firmly this time before beginning to deal with the elephant in the room. 

“ It’s just a massage dollface” Chuya mumbled his lips ghosting over every inch of your face. “ The girl who’ll be massaging you is the best of the best and her job is to rub out every tension and sore muscle in your body. So if she as much as looks at m’girl weirdly, I’ll see to it that she discovers a new level of G-force.” 

The slight joke made the corners of your lips twist up. Your mind grasping at the one inch of sanity among the sea of darkness. “ Darlin I don’t doubt your Gravity manipulation but a new G-force is highly unlikely- even for you!” 

Chuuya chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he moved back and reached for your hand. You flinched back from his fingers, feeling self conscious, making his hand grasp your wrist instead. You instantly regretted the action, but Chuuya seemed the least bit bothered by it. As if he had expected that reaction; “ Come, I’ll show you the room. Its much nicer and more relaxing than this shoebox and I wanna start on you” he muttered, pulling you out of the dressing room and into another room, where there were two massage tables parallel to each other. It seemed Chuuya was keeping his promise of making sure you would be close. 

His words didn’t register in your mind until he came up to one of the tables and motioned for you to lie down so he could start. 

“ You what? Wanna start massaging me?” You gaped at him, making him roll his eyes at your confused expression. 

“ Damn right! I’ve been going to massages for years now. How hard can it be? Hop hop” he made a motion for you to strip and lay down. You bit your lip, hesitating. You could feel the nerves pooling in your stomach again and grasped at the bathrobe tighter. A raised eyebrow from your boyfriend was all it took for you to undo the bathrobe and let it drop to the floor before jumping up onto the table. You moved to lay down on your stomach, your eyes set on the floor, glaring at it. 

“ Relax baby, it’s me” Chuuya muttered, his fingers trailing your spine, pausing when they came to your bra strap. He worked around it for a moment, brushing the skin under it with the tips of his fingers before he moved lower. Following the curve of your spine he began applying more pressure, brushing out the skin, feeling for tensions and knots. Finding the right spots he’d focus on them, much to your enjoyment.  

“ Ahh” you breathed as he worked on a particularly sore spot. 

“ Feels good, right love?” Chuuya smiled down at you, his hands trailing upwards. As he came up to your bra strap he unclipped it with ease. He felt you tense for a moment, then relax as his hands continued to touch your back. “ Good girl, now think how much better it will be when its someone who knows what they’re doing, mmm” as he said that you felt a different touch on your back. The hands were smaller, softer, the long nails just barely scratching your skin. But the way they touched you was different; more confident, almost instantly applying pressure in just the right spots. A mix of pain as female hands worked the tension out, and then pleasure as muscles relaxed.  

When Chuuya brought you here, you didn’t want to go in. Now you didn’t want to leave.

Seeing your lack of protests Chuuya chuckled and moved away from you. “ Enjoy it my love, this massage will do your tense shoulders good” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your head before he went and laid down on the bed beside yours. You felt the masseuses working on your back put a little more effort on your shoulders, and you let out a sigh of relief as you felt the tension you didn’t know you carried was slowly kneaded out of your skin. 

Maybe Chuuya was right; maybe a massage wasn’t so bad after all.

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya nakahara #new experiences #massage #sweetober #bsd sweetness #chuuya fluff #chuuya x you #bsd fluff

[exoticabl4]

How to actually stick to your habits ?

Hello, my loves. This post will be, as you've read it in the title, about how to stay committed to your habits. So without further ado, let's start.

1. Don't start off too strong.

You've got to know that your brain always wants your safety and your comfort. Your old habits provided you with both of these, even if they were unhealthy, and even if the pleasure was very short and temporary. Therefore, it is very normal that your brain will keep dwelling in your old habits and routines. So never start off too strong, otherwise it'll be very hard for you to stay committed. What I recommend doing, is to identify 8 habits that will highly benefit you, and get you closer to your goals. Instead of adding those 8 habits to your day all at once since day one, you're going to add 2 habits a week. Focus on progress, rather than perfection. At the end of your first month, you'll find yourself with 8 new habits. Give yourself the time to get used to each habit, so about a week or more (depending on how hard the habit is).

And before you come to me, I know that the average duration to implement a habit in your life is 21 days, but the goal here is not to be used to it at a 100%, the goal is to lessen the unfamiliarity, so that the brain can stop dwelling in the old habits.

2. Focus on the end-goal.

Sometimes, we tend to focus on how hard the task/habit is, rather than the end-goal that will result from the consistency of the habit. Therefore, try to remind yourself of the end-goal. My experience with this has been IMMACULATE. To focus on the end-goal, I make Pinterest boards. Personally, studying and reviewing for exams is something that I absolutely dread, so in order to get myself to enjoy it or make it more bearable, i made a Pinterest board with the lifestyle i wanna have in my early 20s. So it contains pics of my dream uni, the country i wanna be living in, the life i wanna be leading. Whenever i feel too lazy or demotivated to study or review stuff, i go back to my Pinterest board to remind myself of my end-goal. And when I tell you that each time i do this, i get the best grade of my class, and when i really put my mind into it, i get the best grade of my whole promotion.

3. Realize how simple your task is with this technique.

Many times, we don't see the habit for what it is, but rather for some kind of absolutely dreadful and unbearable task that's impossible to achieve. So what I do to simplify it, is that i write down in my notes what my most productive day would look like, and compared to the tasks that I set to myself, i start to view that as some really simple stuff. To give you an idea of how it works, I'll do what i do best : give an example.

I wanna learn Spanish, last year i was very consistent with it, but the last few months, I really procrastinated and got lazier, like, even spending my daily 15 minutes of Duolingo seemed like a torture, so i decided to use this technique. I wrote down what my ideal spanish learning session was, and it kind of looked like this :

45 minutes of Duolingo

Learning 3 new pages of vocabulary from my notebook

Using each newly learned word in a sentence

Do a conjugation lesson/ learn the conjugation of an irregular verb

Listen to a short story in Spanish, and write down new and unfamiliar vocabulary

Next to this routine, 15 minutes on Duolingo looked very simple and easy, even too little, and now it is wayy easier for me to stick to habits.

4. Always have an alternative.

You got me there, we all have our bad days, low-energy days, and it is very hard, if not impossible, to get anything done on these days. That's why you should give each of your habits an alternative. Let's say you wanted to workout an hour a day, but you came back home absolutely exhausted. Instead of the intense 1 hour workout, have a less intense and easier alternative for it, or maybe a shorter one, or you could go for a walk instead, after all, the end goal is to move your body, you do you, you know what works best for you.

That was all for today's post, hope it helped. Bye, my loves 💗

#self healing #affirm #self concept #summer #glowingskin #glow up #confidence #dream life #wonyoung #affirmations #habits #glowing up #tips #advice #program #self love

[total-drama-brainrot]

Saw this somewhere and wanted to throw it your way, sorry if you’ve been asked this before but what do you think of the concept of Noah always having been an assistant (even before the first season)/never playing as a contestant would look like?

The thing about Noah as a contestant is that he's, for all intents and purposes, kind of useless. And by that I mean Noah as a character isn't important to the plot at all in the grand scheme of things. He's barely important from an episodic point of view either; Noah does very little throughout Total Drama in terms of story relevance, and just in general. (Lazy king 👑.)

So taking him out of the equation wouldn't really affect too much in the grand scheme of things, save for probably preventing his friendship with Owen and, from a fanon standpoint, the rest of team E-scope. He'd be pretty much the same person, just behind the camera instead of on it.

But that's kind of a boring answer, and not at all what you were looking for, right?

So, let's say that Noah lands himself a job working as the personal assistant for some hot-shot A-list celebrity through one of his many siblings' various contacts; is it nepotism? Probably. But who's Noah to look a gift horse in the mouth? A fairly easy job following some pretentious asshole around all day and grabbing him the occasional coffee sounds like a pretty sweet gig, especially with the salary and various benefits that come with the job description. So Noah takes the job without question.

And that's how he finds himself stuck in the middle of nowhere, Muskoka, on an undisclosed island owned by said A-lister whilst he films the first season of his new Reality TV show, Total Drama Island.

Being Chris' personal assistant was supposed to be an easy pay check. "Supposed to be" being the point of interest there; Noah didn't anticipate Chris being as sadistic or as childishly needy as he was. If he wasn't running around like a headless chicken trying to accommodate for Chris' oftentimes outlandish whims and fancies, he was stuck answering to the producers in the host's stead- and the producers were pissed with Chris more often than not for his frivolous use of the show's budget. Something about having a genius level IQ and enough snark to make grown men cry apparently made him qualified enough to deal with the industry big-wigs. Noah was far too overworked to question it.

So much for an easy pay check.

Noah's not bad at his job by any means. In his professional opinion, the whole show and Chris' career would be in the dumps without his personal input keeping everything afloat. That doesn't mean he doesn't loathe his job with every sleep-deprived inch of his being.

And, inevitably, Noah ends up spending a lot of time around the campers themselves. Mostly as a consequence of always having to remain "on set" so to speak, since Noah's pretty much contractually obligated to linger around Chris' vicinity and wait for his boss to assign him some menial task to do. Most of the campers are just as egocentric and insufferable as he'd first assumed- and honestly, what else would he expect from people who singed up for a Reality TV show?- but a select few turn out to be decent company; namely Owen and Eva (and Izzy, but Noah refuses to admit that the "Psycho Hose Beast" is actually bearable to be around).

He'd even go so far as to claim they were friends good acquaintances.

Of course, his job takes precedent over frivolous things like relationships, platonic or otherwise, so Noah doesn't exactly have the free time to hang out with them. Which is probably for the best considering if he did spend a lot of time around his friends acquaintances, the other contestants would have a solid enough foundation for accusations of foul play in the competition, and that's a headache Noah really doesn't want to deal with.

Consequently, Noah floats through the filming of Island, and later on Action, maintaining cordiality with his little group and cold indifference towards pretty much the rest of the cast. Not that he doesn't keep close tabs on the campers; of course he does, not only is Noah incredibly observant by nature, but he's also the one in charge of accommodating for these weirdos... plus, Chris is oddly invested in his "prize cast of ratings jewels", whatever that means. So Noah knows these people, probably more than some of them know themselves, thanks to a combined sixteen-ish weeks of observation and forced proximity.

In turn, the competitors know of Noah, though for the most part he's regarded as little more than a spectre on set- Chris' elusive personal assistant who the cast will occasionally see the barest glimpse of, usually hidden behind an impassive pair of mirrored sunglasses and, more often than not, rushing off to do whatever it is a PA does. Chris does get a little lazy in Action and on a few occasions does get Noah to make a "guest appearances" on screen- mostly just to deliver him a coffee and a gluten free muffin during the downtime of that day's challenge- but he's still practically non-existent to he majority of the cast.

Which is fine by him.

What isn't fine by him is the surprise addition of two people he knows nothing about, come the third season.

One of those contestants happens to know a lot about the cast, and a concerning amount of information about him. It's uncanny, just how much Sierra seems to know about everyone around her, even more so because of the way she practically worships the ground they walk on. Sure, Noah's encountered the odd super fan here and there- not fans of himself, of course, but in this time as Chris' assistant he's had to chase off more than enough rabid fans from trying to sneak their way onto the set of whatever show Chris was working on (or more accurately sic the on-scene security on them)- but Sierra's brand of crazy takes it to a whole new level. Noah doesn't like her on principle and is both incredibly vindicated and incredibly concerned when her stalkerish behaviour rears its ugly head. Not that he's allowed to do anything about it; the producers are adamant that Sierra's outlandish behaviour is entertaining enough for the audience to ignore the immorality, and given how much Chris has been allowed tog et away with in the past Noah's inclined to begrudgingly agree.

And the other new contestant? The one who qualified for the apparently non-existent Total Drama Dirtbags (and Noah totally isn't salty about that show being an elaborate ruse that he spent countless sleepless nights working on)? Noah's just as concerned about his friends acquaintances ignorance to Alejandro's inherent sliminess as he is about Sierra's blatant disregard for others' privacy, but again it's not like he can do anything about it. He's not even supposed to be on the show, so any sort of interference would be a big no-no.

Oh, what's that? They want him on the show?

Fuck.

Turns out, Noah's brief appearances during Action (characterised by his usual level of sass and snide comments) really resonated with their audience; they like him for some inexplicable reason, and want to see more of "Noah, Chris McLean's mysterious personal assistant".

So he's pretty much forced into acting as a co-host of sorts, much like Chef had done for the first two seasons, all whilst carrying out his usual tasks. Is he happy about this? Not a chance in hell, and he lets the producers know exactly how he feels about the sudden change in his contract. Not that it changes anything.

And the best part? World Tour is a musical themed season. If they expect him to sing, they've got another thing coming.

But, as a small part of him chimes in, spending more time on camera would give Noah plenty of opportunities to spend time with his friends acquaintances. There's a non-zero chance that he could have fun, even if it's at the expense of his valued privacy.

His new status as part of the show does allow Noah some opportunities to skew the competition in the favour of his friends acquaint- no, screw it, his friends. That's one silver lining of the whole situation.

Better yet, he can tilt things out of Alejandro's favour, since the former Dirtbag seems to have a knack for manipulating the competition anyway- Noah might as well make things more challenging for him, as it seems this game is too easy for him thus far.

#that's just my take on it i guess #in short: noah's a tad bit more isolated and a lot more vindictive. mostly against the producers though. #i imagine a noah who didn't sign up for total drama would value his anonymity a lot more. THIS noah isn't looking for fame or notoriety. #he's just looking for Cash Money. #as such being forced into the limelight would make him grumpier than usual. #he spends the majority of world tour trying to get alejandro eliminated because he's the producer's favourite. no other reason. #al the while being as unhelpful and outright antagonistic as possible as a “co-host”. #mostly to make himself as unmarketable and unlikable as possible so the audience don't want him to stay around. #ironically this only makes him more popular. noah hates it. #he also spends the majority of world tour trying to prevent sierra from leaking people's private information to varied results. #noah's a voice of reason in a cacophony of screaming. no matter how loud he shouts he'll never be heard. #can't decide whether i want him and blaineley to team up post-merge or for them to be enemies on sight. #total drama #td noah #assistant noah au #others' ideas #silly ideas #ophe's ranting in the tags again #long post #replies #kinda drafty in here (posts from the drafts)

[thefallennightmare]

Moment of Weakness-twenty

*credit to whoever created the gif. found on google/Pinterest *

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Author's Note: hopefully I'll have time to get another one out today.

Tags(closed): @splendidreads @sebsgirl71479 @mdpplgtz03 @pattiemac1 @unaxv @alana4610 @broadwaybabe18 @themayzittcha @playboystark @raajali3 @ozwriterchick @ragamuffin285 @screamingdying @themorningsunshine @kenziekugler22 @calwitch @sebastianstansqueen @stanaddict @stucky-simp03 @sleyeveryday @loustan90 @lyra-black13 @valsworldofcreativity @cjand10 @tesseract69 @batprincess1013 @subwaysurf45 @arsonfrogger @yoruse @5moremin @lipstickandtanqueray @mandijo17 @joannaromanoff @justsebstan @winters1917 @elizacusi-blog @football1921

The tension in the small office was too thick, it enclosed around my throat and I was unable to breath at times while feeling his stare bore into my back. His heated gaze would follow my every movement as I walked around the open area, doing my best to work and keep myself from locking eyes with him. 

It worked; for the first few hours. 

Today was the first day back at work after wallowing in my own self-pity for the last week and a half. Needless to say, from the second I stepped foot inside, it had been so awkward to be around Bucky. He kept to himself in his office, the door opened halfway, but when he saw me arrive at my desk, he didn’t bother to talk to me. He knew that it would only result in one thing. 

Either me smacking him or yelling at him. 

He was right. 

If it wasn’t for Steve, I probably would still be home in my bed and staining my pillowcases with more tears than arguably necessary. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” 

I didn’t bother to look over my shoulder in the doorway, knowing who was leaning against it with their arms crossed over his chest. 

“How’d you get in, Steve?” I breathed. 

“The spare key you keep hidden under the mat,” he informed. “You do know you’ve been gone for the last week.” 

“Nine days,” I corrected while pulling the covers closer to my chin. “You can let yourself out the same way.” 

Steve sighed and was soon kneeling in front of me, his gentle fingers brushing the hair out of my face. My eyes fluttered shut at the feeling and for a moment, I forgot about the pain I had been in. 

“He’s not worth all of this, Y/N.” Steve motioned to the current state I was in. 

Unwashed hair, sunken eyes, tear stained cheeks, and my body buried underneath my piles of blankets on my bed. 

“I made a fool of myself,” I let out a shaky breath. 

Steve’s large hand began rubbing comforting circles on my back. “You do foolish things when you’re in love.” 

My eyes widened. “I’m not-.” 

He didn’t bother to let me finish, explaining how I was not in love with Bucky Barnes. 

“Why else would you consistently go back to him, Y/N? After all the hurt he put you through?” 

I parted my lips, wracking my brain to come up with a good answer, but they seized shut when nothing came out. 

As much as I didn't want to admit, Steve was right. 

I was in love with Bucky Barnes. 

My hand cupped his cheek. “I let the best guy go, huh?” 

A chaste kiss was placed on the inside of my palm before Steve yanked the blankets off of me. The cold air from my open window danced around the bareness of my legs and I whined, wanting to feel the warmth yet again. 

“You have twenty minutes to get ready, otherwise I’m dragging you into work kicking and screaming.” 

Thankfully Steve didn’t have to drag me into work, I came willingly. Much to the dismay of the screaming voice in my mind that this was a bad idea. 

Some people may think that a job isn’t worth seeing your ex lover almost every day but when there’s one person there that makes it bearable, you don’t want to leave them. 

I glanced up towards the office across from my desk where Steve was lounging on the couch, sketch book in his lap. He looked away for a moment, eyes catching mine, and gave me a small smile. My heart dropped, knowing that with my own stupidity I had let him go, ruining any chances with him. 

“Idiot,” I muttered to myself. 

The front door opened and bounding inside with a bright smile was Natasha as her soft voice called out a hello to everyone.

I turned my back and continued working on the schedule for today. 

“Oh, Y/N! Did you hear the news?” 

I cursed under my breath before spinning around in my chair and gave her a nod. “I did. Congratulations.” 

“It’s so exciting! I’m still so early so it’s a bit scary telling everyone but I can’t help it.” She sat in the chair across from my desk, making herself at home. 

My lips pulled in a tight line. “Yeah, I bet.” 

“Bucky is going to be such a great dad. He’s so excited that he’s been looking up baby names on google.” 

Ignoring the stinging pain in my heart, I did my best to make sure she noticed that I had a lot of work to do by pointing to it. 

“I really should get back to work. Bucky left a list of things for me to catch up on that I missed.” 

Natasha waved me off. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if us girls talked for a few minutes.” 

I sighed, defeated. “Sure.” 

“So.”

She started to ramble on some more about how excited she was that she and Bucky were finally starting a family. According to her, they have been wanting kids for years, but Bucky never felt that they were in a good spot in the marriage to start. 

“What made him change his mind?” I forced myself to ask, secretly wanting to know. 

Natasha tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “If I’m being honest, it was an accident. He’s always been safe, using a condom every time, but that night he couldn't contain himself. Practically threw himself at me.” 

I swallowed thickly, the pain becoming too much for my fragile heart to handle Although, there still was something else I needed to know. 

“How far along are you?” 

“Only six weeks so we still have a long way to go,” she smiled. 

I curled a brow with confusion. “Bucky told me you’re a few months along?” 

Natasha’s face twitched as her shoulders dropped, but she quickly recovered by waving her hand around. “Oh, same thing. Is he busy?” 

She was quick to change the subject which only made the alarm bells in my mind ring even louder about this whole situation. 

Suddenly, Bucky’s presence was felt behind me which caused Natasha to quickly jump to her feet and wrap her arms around him. As they shared a kiss, I forced myself to look away like I did so many times before. 

“I thought I heard your voice,” Bucky said. 

“I was in the neighborhood and thought to have lunch with you.”

Bucky shifted on his feet. “Why today? You haven’t shown up in the office since last week.” 

This caught my attention and my ear perked in order to listen. 

“So what do you say, lunch?” Natash asked yet again in hopes of avoiding another conversation. 

“Y/N?” 

My eyes landed on Bucky, hearing my name fall from his lips made my heart skip a beat. 

“Hm?”

He wrapped an arm around Natasha’s shoulder. “How does my schedule look this afternoon?” 

I gave him a small smile. “You’re actually booked up. Mr. Stark is coming in to sign the contract for your new project together and Dr. Banner is at two o'clock so he can present his idea to you.” 

Bucky’s eyes lingered on my lips before he nodded, giving Natasha his attention yet again. “Rain check?” 

“You can’t spare even ten minutes?” She pouted. 

He shook his head while placing a kiss on top of her head, this causing me to look away again. 

“I’ll make it up to you with dinner.” 

They conversed for a few more minutes before Natasha reluctantly left, leaving Bucky remaining in his previous spot behind me. I kept my eyes trained hard on the screen in front of me, not bothering to give him an ounce of attention. 

“Y/N,” he breathed my name. 

I continued to ignore him even though my heart began to hammer hard in my chest, especially when he knelt down next to me, his hand resting on my knee. 

“Can you please talk to me?” 

The wheels of my chair scraped against the floor as I pushed myself away from him. 

“I have a lot of work to do,” I simply stated. 

He let out a low breath before standing to his feet and began following me as I walked into the breakroom, the door shutting behind us. 

“I missed you.” 

I spun on my heels. “Don't.” 

His eyes were filled with so much angst and sorrow that I almost fell for it. 

Almost. 

“You were gone over a week, I want to make sure you’re okay,” Bucky said. 

I shook my head with a set gaze. “You don’t get the right to ask me how I’m doing or say that you miss me when it’s your fucking fault that I’m like this.” 

“Y/N.” 

“Leave me alone, Bucky. Please. You need to focus on your family now, stop worrying about me,” I said while tears pricked in my eyes. 

“All I can think about is you. I miss you.” Bucky leaned against the counter in the room. 

I held firm, only giving him a nod. “Well, it seems like it’s a one-sided feeling because I don’t miss you.” 

His eyes narrowed. “Bullshit.” 

The inside of my cheek caught between my teeth, knowing that my lie was detected right away. 

“I’m not going to keep doing this dance with you, Bucky,” I ran a hand through my hair. “I’m only here to do my job then go home at the end of the day; alone. Or with someone, depending on how I’m feeling.” 

He pushed himself off of the counter, a shaky breath escaping him as his ilps pulled in a tight, angry line. 

“You’re already seeing someone?” 

I scoffed, eyes drilling into him deep. “If I was, it’s not your fucking business.” 

“Is it Steve?” 

The way his voice cracked at the name echoed in my ears, but I continued to stand tall in front of him, not letting him see how bad I had been hurting. 

“No, I lost that chance because I chose you. Yet look where that got me,” I admitted while looking at my feet. “Fuck this, I’m going back to work.”

We stared at each other for a few beats before I walked past him, ripping my arm out of his grasp as he reached for me. 

#mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes and reader #mob!bucky barnes x yn #mob!bucky barnes and yn #mob!bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes and reader #sebastian stan #moment of weakness-mob!bucky barnes

[vivi-the-goblin]

I hate that I have to carry my cane even on "good days" or over bearable distances because people will think I'm just faking it otherwise. Because I'm "too young for a cane." Yeah, it would be unusual for general old age to have done this. However, other things exist! I had scoliosis BEFORE that car wreck fucked up my heel, think of it as a tragedy if you must but we're here regardless! I'm perfectly fine with short distances most days, getting the mail or bringing in groceries. But that doesn't invalidate me needing a cane other days!

Oddly enough the only person in my apartment building who didn't really question my need, just offered genuine use advice since he figured I was new, was my landlord. When a fucking landlord has been one of the most empathetic people I've met about this there's a problem. (Also the weird he thought I was new tbh, I'd had a rolling chair and little prep table in my kitchen for the last like 6 inspections and he'd never questioned it. and a cane hanging up for years prior come to think of it.) Point is, just trust that other people know their body better than you. If you must, remember that they wouldn't be doing an inconvenient thing for no reason, I struggle to think of an aid that isn't some degree of annoying at times. It's none of your damn business unless I'm hitting you with it, which I grow more tempted by the more you question how I care for my own body. And yes, it is injury. I don't need a cane because I'm a little fat. Absolutely shocking how some people think the fatness caused the cane, not that having lowered mobility made me burn less calories. Though thankfully people usually feel silly once I point that out. Still doesn't fucking excuse acting like me having a belly is in any way their problem.

#vivi rambles #I'll probably delete this later #disability i guess #personal rant #I'm not even that fat either. #like 200 to 210 lbs/90 to 95 kilos bit more during the holidays #like that's not thin since I'm a bit short but my doctor says I'm quite healthy so fuck off. #like my cardiovascular health is surprisingly good even without factoring in my mobility issues

[chilly-me-softly]

It's okay until it's not • Ben Chilwell

Sadness brings sad fic. Be aware there's mention of cancer, even if not explicitly the fiction goes around that topic so I'll understand if you don't want to read it. As always though I hope you like it x

She met Ben when her life needed a change, something powerful that would make her feel emotions that she hadn't been allowed to feel until then. He was one of the few people in her new life who knew her story, who had not treated her differently. One of the few, if not the only one, to whom she had shown her medical record. Everything related to one deleterious disease.

Everything was going in the right direction. She had a job, hobbies, a boyfriend, her social life was quite satisfying and her tests were always within the norm. Everything was fine until it wasn't.

She finds herself in his house when she can't pretend anymore, her legs give out and if it weren't for Ben she would also have a nice bruise to remind her of what happened for the next few days. Ben is worried sick, makes her lie on the couch and checks on her every three seconds even though she has been alert since practically the moment afterwards.

She promises him that she'll go and get some tests to make him feel more relaxed, that it's probably just because she hasn't been eating properly in those days. Because the lecture about eating properly is more bearable than admitting that this is not the first time this has happened to her lately. That there could be more to it.

But in the end she goes for a check-up anyway, her doctor immediately books her all the necessary tests once she explains what is happening to her. They are tense days, almost grateful that Ben is out half of them so she can hide behind some texts.

The test results come back not as she expected, her doctor filling her head with data and statistics and treatments and dates that she can't give proper attention to. She takes her time, the doctor talks about timing. She tells Ben  in the end it was just iron deficiency.

"I need to talk to you" Ben understands instantly this is serious, she has been looking at him for hours as if to gather courage to speak but each time she just stands there staring at him. But she has made a decision and it's only fair that he also learns about the situation, to take his due precautions.

"I lied to you. About my test results"

"It's back isn't it?" a tear escapes her control and he tries to wrap his arms around her to comfort her but she stops him, she knows she won't be able to get back on topic otherwise.

"No wait, I need to tell you some things first" he takes her hand, holding it tightly and thus showing her his closeness.

"It's back yes, and before you ask me what the next step will be-- I'm not going to have chemotherapy"

"What do you mean. Is there anything else you can try?" he asks, confusion clear on his face as he tries to take it all in.

"No, there isn't"

"There isn't or you don't want to?" the grip on her hand loses its power, the shock of even asking that question is too much.

"Ben, I don't want to undergo another round of treatment"

"Why?"

"Because it's already taken most of my life away from me and just now when I was getting it back... it's popping up again" her tone is bitter, almost dismissive that this is all happening again.

"No. No (y/n) you can't be serious" while his is incredulous as slowly it all starts to sink in, his wide eyes watching her while shaking his head.

"Ben please, I need you to understand"

"No! How can I?" and then anger, his coping mechanism after he finally understands and can't bring that thought back a second time. "You don't think about me? So I am nothing to you. Our relationship is not that important to you"

"Now you are selfish"

"Selfish, me? You're practically letting yourself die and I'm selfish?"

"You don't know what it's like - she snaps back at him, trying not to hold it against him - You weren't there before, everything I had to go through. The operations, the hospital, chemo, throwing up, all those side effects... it's easy to talk when you don't experience it first hand"

"You could do it. You could beat it again this time" but she is already shaking her head.

"And then what? What would I get out of it?"

"You'd get more time"

"How? And who would give me the assurance that I would be fine? Do you really want to live with the fear that it might come back at any moment exactly as it is now?" but he doesn't answer. "I'm tired Ben"

"So you're just informing me. You're not going to change your mind"

"No" she manages to reply, the lump in her throat signalling the coming of an impending cry that she has been trying to hold back for some time now.

And she doesn't hold back when Ben finally puts some distance between them. He needs time to process it all too, she couldn't hide it from him and knew that if she had left him he wouldn't have let her go so easily without fighting.

-

A couple of days later the doorbell rings echoing in the silence of her house, Ben at the door. His face is pale, his eyes sunken, a sign that he's not sleeping as he should and she's sorry to be the cause of it all because she wouldn't want this for him.

She lets him in, there's a bit of awkwardness between the two of them and there hadn't been on their first dates either. She doesn't want to assume his being there is to stay, she waits for him to speak but it's hard to put words in order.

"I've thought about it and I want to be there for you. If that's really your decision, I don't want to waste the remaining time arguing" she hugs him tightly reveling in his scent and his arms holding her tightly.

"That's what I want" she murmurs into the hug and he holds her even tighter to him, even though it hurts to hear that.

Over the next few months they try to act like they don't know about it, it's there in the corner of their heads ready to pop up again at any moment but they do everything they can to keep it from happening. They make it at parties as Ben watches her have fun and joins in, the smile on her lips the thing that makes him feel good the most. They make it when she wears his shirt and cheers for him, clumsily imitating in the dim light of their room an action of the game completely aroused and enraptured by the story, making him laugh until his stomach hurts.

He fails when he enters her house and finds her passed out on the kitchen floor.

"No no no no no (y/n) don't do this to me don't do this to me"

She knew that without treatment sooner or later the time would come when she would struggle more and more to recover. She fooled herself it would come as late as possible but with each passing day she realised something was changing, tiredness had started to take over her life now more times she dozed than she smiled.

"Hey" she quickly realised she's in a hospital bed. And she had always told him not to call for help, she knew if she went into that building she would hardly get out.

"You gave me quite a scare"

"I'm sorry" but she certainly can't scold him at that moment, when with just one look you can tell how scared he is. He is handsome though, she can't help but look at him and study him. "I had a dream about you"

"Yeah? What about it?"

"You'll be fine" it only takes a moment for his eyes to fill with tears.

#ben chilwell #ben chilwell imagine #ben chilwell imagines #ben chilwell one shot #football imagine #football imagines

[bluebellhairpin]

Katsuki Bakugo X Reader

Summary: The heat of December is scorching, and on the hottest day - where you want nothing more than to crawl into a freezer and never come out - Katsuki drags you out to the beach.

Warnings: An Australian summer. You've adopted Katsuki's potty mouth.

Listening to: 'Heat Waves' by Glass Animals - "Road shimmer wiggling my vision, heat, heat waves I'm swimming in a mirror."

Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-fi

Half the Shatterdome’s air conditioning went out and it was far too hot. 

You thought to yourself as you sat in the control room next to the only unoccupied desk fan in the facility, that you bet they never had such a problem at the Anchorage Shatterdome being too cold. At least they could always put on more clothes - when it gets hot you can only take so much off. 

You hadn’t seen Katsuki all day, and if he were anything like you he’d be looking for a cold spot but unlike you he’d probably have had the luck to have actually found some place with a nice cool breeze. You mostly hoped he’d stay away for today - you didn’t want to deal with this heat and his attitude all at once. 

He had gotten more bearable over the last few weeks - being deployed to fight a few times and a couple more test runs with the neural link had you both working together well. Knowing how his brain - being inside it - helped you understand and tolerate him much more than anyone else in the entire city, let alone the Shatterdome.

You doubt you’d have warmed up to him so fast if you didn’t. 

But that didn’t mean you would actively seek out his company on a day with weather that made you want to rip someone's throat out. 

The only thing you could think of being worse was a Kaiju attack was having to get stuffed into your pilot suit - which would be like trying to fit a latex bodysuit onto a cow. And even if you were sharing a brain, and tolerated him more than you were currently tolerating the sun, you doubted your ability to not argue long enough to get a kill in. 

A stack of papers landed on the desk beside your propped-up feet and you were met with Shinsou - a young LOCCENT transfer from Hong Kong with purple hair and cheeks like a cooked lobster. 

“Been out on the beach?” you asked, grabbing a booklet and fanning yourself with it since the desk fan was being useless. 

“No,” he grumbled before moving off to the water dispenser, “Just ran up to the helicopter pad for those.” 

“You don’t run in this weather mate, that's how you get heat stroke and die.” 

“Well tell that to your boyfriend.” he said, flopping in the seat next to yours and tipping half his cup down the front of his shirt. “Either he likes how hot it is or he’s gone insane.”

“What?” you barely conjured the energy to turn your head in shock. “I mean he’s normally a little shit, but like,” your voice lowered, “How bad is it?” 

“Man was up on the pad and soaking it all in like a solar panel.” Shinsou likewise was soaking up the mild breeze through his wet shirt. “He’s gonna die.” 

“Maybe I should rescue him.” you mused, although not wanting to move. “Can’t have my co-pilot shriveling up on me like a dried apricot.” 

“He didn’t look so bothered. I think he’s more reptile than he lets on.” 

“Maybe I could just call him here over the intercoms.” you altered your suggestion - the both of you now having separate conversations. “Make him come to me instead so I can check he’s still alive.” 

“Not a snake. But he's not much like a crocodile either.”

“I’d get in trouble though. Might get an exception because it’s so hot but.” 

“A dragon. Dragons are reptiles.” 

“What the fuck are you both talking about?” You dipped your head over the back of your seat to meet upside-down red eyes. Speak of the devil, and Katsuki appears. 

“I’m glad you’re here. Was thinking you had a death wish.” He frowned. 

“Why?”

“Because you were outside.” His frown only deepened.

“It’s nice out there.” He said, even if the sweat dripping down his forehead says otherwise as you scoffed. “Have you even been out there yet today?” 

“Unfortunately.” Shinsou muttered. 

“No I have not. But I can tell.” you sighed deeply, wishing the warm air did more to cool your lungs. “Live here long enough and you gain that ability.”

“Bullshit.” 

“You never believe me Katsu.” You raised your arms, letting the breeze hit all your sweaty spots. “It’s not fair.” 

“C’mon.” Katsuki said, rolling your chair out and practically pulling you to your feet. “We’re not on duty and I think you need to go somewhere to cool off. You're talking nonsense.” 

“But poor Shinsou -” 

“Yeah poor me, getting abandoned for air conditioning and -” 

“Leave him, you know I don’t socialize well.” Katsuki said. “Let’s go.”

Katsuki, despite the fact he had a strict stick up his arse, had commandeered one of the Shatterdome’s Jeeps, fastened you into the passenger seat with little fight. 

Not that you had the energy to kick and scream at him to leave you be like you wanted to. 

You had half a mind to ask where you were going, and another half to remind him which side of the road he was supposed to be driving on - America brainwashed you, you’d told him, and he slammed on the breaks at a red light as payback. It almost sent you to your death through the front windscreen as California Gurls played loudly from the radio. 

You almost died to Katy Perry, which would’ve been his fault, and you would’ve haunted him for forever. 

When he pulled up at Bondi Beach - of all the places - you crossed your arms. 

“Are you serious?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Bondi is so full of tourists,” you groaned, sulking into your seat, “I know we aren't the most popular Rangers, but if someone recognises us we won’t be left alone. A Ranger is still a Ranger.” 

“That’s why I’ve got these,” he reached behind him into the backseat and pulled out an array of clothing accessories, “Hide those pretty eyes and stuff your hair under that cap. No one will look twice.” 

You huffed in defeat, snatching a pair of too-big sunglasses and a cap with a bright orange X across the front from his hands. 

“Enough attitude, or I won’t get you ice cream like I planned to.” 

“Who are you, my dad?” you said, stepping out of the car and closing the door with a loud thud. 

“Sure ain’t.” Katsuki said, then a wicked grin grew on his face and you knew you were in for it. “But I’m sure I know as well as you do that you’d like calling me -”

“I am not listening to you! Not!” you said, stomping away and making a beeline for the water despite the fact you had to trudge through the heat past the carpark and sand, or that you had no swimmers on. 

He barked a laugh behind you, and you could tell - you knew it because you knew him that well already - that he was still looking at you. And you knew - because you did - that he’d get you your ‘pity me because of the heat’ ice cream no matter how you acted. 

That’s what happened when you were in someone's head. You knew what they thought about almost anything. You knew what he thought about you, despite how he tried to shove it off into the most unreachable corners of his mind. 

He liked you. You didn’t mind. 

#bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #pacific rim au #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #count your blessings

[myriadparacosm]

Enchanté - II. Of Our Animal Skins

Chapter I. also available on my AO3

Remus slept well. Though for him ‘well’ has meant ‘bearable’ quite early in his life. He continues on his day like any other where the morning gives him a slight peace before his roommates show up. Sometimes he wonders if it was the best idea to follow James' plan to all live together in his parents' old city house but it's as similar as their Hogwarts day with more intimacy. With a book and warm tea in his hand, he tries to forget about the upcoming day. To his demise, no words manage to reach his mind and, by respect of the story, he is left with the only option to slide back his bookmark in the book and close it.

Peter is still showering, taking his sweet time like always where he turns the bathroom into a sauna which is why Remus never goes after him to avoid his hair curling up more than they already are. They all have their own small bathroom with a toilet, sink and mirror, but it's nothing compared to the main one. Perhaps they are all holding on to the habits of sharing space because of Hogwarts. James is out for his daily running, waking up at no normal hour and exercising like a psychopath would. Remus is probably a bit bitter that his roommate is far more fit than him - he barely manages to picture himself exercising without feeling bored and exhausted.

He doesn’t feel quite restless but there is a feeling lingering through his limbs that he can’t piece together. His main hypothesis is the new case dumped into their laps and the meeting of the well-known Black family yesterday that might have influenced the wolf to bother him. It rarely happens, especially when he is a dozen days away from the next full-moon and fully rested from the last one, but he can’t deny it when this vague feeling hasn’t disappeared in his sleep. There is a fat chance that it comes from Grimmauld Place itself.

It has never happened to him, or at least not as personally as it feels now. As an Auror, he is bound to end up in awful settings or situations that ordinary people wouldn’t even picture and more than often Remus felt one coming up before it ever happens. The wolf rises, just so slightly, like a shadow without quite talking but there is some sort of concord as if the wolf and him will work together for what’s to come. In a sense they do, Remus gets the warning and depending on how uncomfortable he is or the rawness of his nerves he tries to anticipate what will come. It has come as a surprise to find some sort of common ground for his lycanthropy, less about separating himself and the wolf and more about what minor advantages it might bring. Though it probably comes from the hammering of the Ministry to put him to use.

Grimmauld Place gave him a sharp feeling of unease and magic: one that shouldn’t even come to exist. Somehow there was also a fear which he never thought the wolf could feel and he supposes there is something in the house related to a werewolf - a dead one - that might cause such a reaction. The tea left him puzzled and fearful of what is even in it so he chose to not drink it. The opposite wouldn’t have made him look good to their eyes either if he cared. They can’t be aware that he is a werewolf but he wouldn’t put that over them to put some potion in there to reveal people’s secrets.

It’s a curse and Remus would never think otherwise but he can’t deny that it has a slight advantage in his current life. Still, it doesn’t make the pill easier to swallow that without being bitten, he wouldn’t even be an Auror and might be a professor or have a little bookshop or something more akin to his taste. The Ministry tries to show him a pretty picture of better rights and a better understanding of werewolves in the wizards society but it has already been almost five years and he has seen no changes. He has regular check-ups, physically and mentally and at least now the Healer in charge of him learnt which tea he prefers. It’s all manners and lies and Remus is completely stuck.

He isn’t sure what would happen if he stood up and left without a warning but he doubts the Ministry would let him have his own life without trying to interfere or straight up destroying him. A sigh escapes him and he kneads his forehead with two fingers at what his life came to be.

“Hullo Rem’,” James chirps behind him, grinning when their eyes meet as he finishes a bottle of water in one chug. “Slept alright?”

Despite all the years they spent together, Remus is still convinced something is wrong in James to look grateful and exalted despite sweating like he ran around the sun every day. Even back at Hogwarts James would be up and about no matter the weather or even his state to play quidditch, which isn’t something that Peter nor Remus ever cared for.

He doesn’t know where he would be if James and Peter never became Aurors with him. Though he never asked them for it and would have never, just like for them to become Animagus to help him with 'his time of the month', but it really made things easier and Remus isn't that much of a hypocrite to never admit it.

“Alright. You? How’s the weather?”

“Looks like it will rain by the clouds,” he says, using his shirt to clean his sweaty foreheads. “But it should be alright, it’s not winter yet.”

“Great.”

“Pete done with the shower?” James calls more than asks as he already strides toward the bathroom.

Remus hears him loudly knock on the door with a polite warning for Peter to get out of here so he can get ready for work. Peter quickly comes out to grab his breakfast, looking pristine, and grabs the newspaper. There is still a page in it dedicated to the Black’s family that Remus decided to ignore. Lily will tell if there is anything relevant or new in it, though he doubts it. He saw the huge bounty poster for Sirius Black once again, striking with a picture of him younger and the slightly blurry one at the Portkey Office. Peter is right about how similar he looks to his brother Regulus though you could still tell them apart; maybe if they intend to then they might pass off as each other.

There isn’t a lot that Remus wishes for but now he hopes it will be an easy case. A Pureblood family isn’t quite what he wants to deal with, especially after that first meeting, and he wouldn’t be surprised if their sons are also pains to deal with. Regulus might be a real victim but still be a spoiled child - if his brother is truly mad and abducted him then they will help but Remus won’t put up with any silly acts.

They spend the day at the Ministry, working on what they can find on both brothers and their family despite the initial refusal of the family of sharing information. Lily resumes their day by deciding to show up at the Chimera tonight after dinner with the hope to find any of Regulus' friends. Mary mentioned to her that she did see Regulus’ group of friends at her bar multiple times with another person, not in the picture. They are assuming it might be Regulus hiding with a polyjuice potion as it would certainly be scandalous for his parents to know where he likes to wander. For anyone to even walk in the Chimera they have to be queer or not queerphobic, otherwise the doors stay closed.

Mary opened it right after Hogwarts and it has started a bit slowlybefore becoming the most popular place openly for queer wizards. They have helped her a bit, though it has been mostly Lily who dealt with all legal aspects for her and Remus might have looked through books to help them. All in all it is an incredible idea that started from Mary realising how many closeted people were in Hogwarts - literally banging on Remus’ toilet stall door to check on how gay he is during fourth year. One good thing from it is that Lily and her got together after a year of preparing the opening of Chimera; their sexual tension exploded on the opening night for Peter to find them close to breaking the health code.

James assured that there aren’t many Purebloods open to the idea of anything that wouldn’t give them heirs - hence the forced heterosexuality - and the Black are definitely on this side by the look of it. Remus is frankly more worried that Regulus ran away and they might have to go abroad just to track him down rather than a real kidnapping. Just coming up with the idea to abduct one of the child, considered as the only one, of one of the most powerful family is a deathwish. The Ministry would probably bend to all their wishes because they are this supposed ‘Noble and Most Ancient’ family though for what Remus still doesn’t understand.

Lily is obviously intense about the case by the look of it. He doesn’t know if she wants to prove herself to the Ministry or even to the Black family as it’s not exactly her style, but she can’t truly hide how anxious and curious she is about all of this. She enjoys solving mysteries. Remus is usually a fan too as they often come together in many situations. This time though, he feels prone to take a sick leave but no one at the Ministry would accept it. Lily is quite passionate, rivalling James when he isn’t day-dreaming about a painting, and she likes to break egocentric people’s minds so that might be what she is looking for. If Regulus is as much of a wanker as his parents, Remus will let her have fun with him.

His friends have pretty early on announced that they will become Aurors with Remus, who spent almost a whole year trying to change their minds but nothing has worked. The three of them were pretty surprised to find Lily in the same Auror course - though Remus had some lone classes because of his ‘useful’ condition. At first she had been somewhat peeved but she couldn’t deny they worked well together. She loves Remus, enjoys Peter’s company and learnt to like James once he stopped pushing his crush on her at the start of their sixth year. She admitted that she never thought they might end up working in the same place but it’s actually enjoyable.

They probably told her the real reason why James, the Quidditch devotee, and Peter, the dedicated musician, would end up as Aurors when they could be anything else. Lily knows about Remus’ lycanthropy and if he didn’t know she would lose her mind without Remus around, he might have believed she joined their team out of sympathy. Frankly he would also lose his sanity if she wasn’t here. James and Peter are lovely and he can’t think of better friends but they are still very prone to pranks everywhere. He doesn’t mind if it’s on a person who deserves to be arrested but they have more than often been surprised by their pranks and lost time or their dignity in crucial times.

“Rem’ what are you wearing?”

He sighs out, anticipating what James is going to say, and adjusts his coat over himself with a blank look at him. “Clothes.”

“To go to the Chimera?”

“Are we going anywhere else?”

“No but come on, you could have put on something more fancy,” James says cheekily and tugs at his worn-out pants.

“I think it’s alright,” Peter comments though his quick glance reveals he agrees with his statement.

They have gotten off the clock in the middle of the afternoon to get ready for their search for information at the Chimera. Without the French Ministry's possible information about Sirius there isn’t much to dig into there. He has been considered dead since he was 15 years old. Regulus’ own file doesn’t give much, either because the Black family do not want to share more information or he spent his life as much hidden as possible. Remus hasn’t thought further away than it’s just extra hours where he could be comfy at home. It’s not that he doesn’t care about helping or saving people but he is convinced that they are led on a fake trail and the parents have a bigger role in it than they are saying.

“There is no dress code.”

“Yes but I reckon you could pull easier if you put on this blue sweater of yours. This one looks just pitiful.”

“James, we are working,” Remus reminds even though he can see that Peter and him clearly put some attention in their appearance. “We aren’t out to pull and I reckon Lil’ will tell you the same and hex your arse if you ever think about anything other than our case.”

He gasps with his one hand, not yet in the sleeve of his coat, on his heart. “Fool! We all know she will throw everything out the moment Mary winks at her! And I’m very professional every second of my life.”

“At what?”

“I reckon she didn’t take five breaks today to wander around, instead of looking through archives to figure out anything to help our leads.”

“I brought drinks and snacks every time! And I did help by reading and sorting everything. You know I need to stretch my legs, I can't help it.”

Peter snorts. “You only looked through information about Regulus and no one needed to know his zodiac sign.”

“I did.”

“James, I doubt knowing if your zodiac signs are compatible is any help to find him.”

He throws Peter a playful glare as he finally puts his coat on. “For your information, we are extremely compatible and when we need that information you will be happy that I looked for it.”

“You couldn’t have guessed he is a Leo by his name?” Remus asks with a mean smirk. “Isn’t he supposed to be your soulmate or is it just the painting?”

“Do not worry about the painting, I will figure out a way for it. But I would rather be sure about our information than assuming and risking his safety.”

Peter blinks at him, pausing in front of the mirror with a hand in his hair. “By mistaking his zodiac sign..?”

“If we find him I might be the one more fitted to calm him down and reassure him,” James declares. “That’s important.”

“Lily will hex you if you even look at him past this point.”

“Please do not try to date someone because of a painting probably glorified,” Remus advises with a tired tone. “Especially if he is a real victim in whatever is going on.”

“At least this time James will be dedicated to work."

“You two are being really mean when I have always worked,” James complains. “This time I just have a greater motivation.”

“So why would you dress up to pull when the person you want to shag is still missing?”

“You never know when we will find Regulus,” he explains. “Perhaps he is hiding in plain sight and will come out upon seeing me.”

“Merlin saves me,” Remus mutters without great conviction. “Alright let’s just apparate to be done with this.”

He isn’t even honestly dressed that badly. It just so happens that Remus prefers comfort over style compared to James and he really needs this luxury to get through this job. His sweater is a bit loose, one of the sleeves is longer than the other, but the colour isn’t so bad even if it looks slightly big on him. James even took out a waistcoat of all things, though he leaves it open to not look too proper. Peter also puts great care in his clothes and they mirror each other by letting the first buttons of their shirts open. It fits them both but frankly they better not be pulling anyone when the Head of the Aurors reminded them of the importance of this case before they left the Ministry today. It’s as if Regulus' fate will send the Ministry into ashes.

Lily is waiting for them by the entry of the Chimera, dressed classically but with care for an appropriate ‘night out’ and rush of action if it ever comes to happen. Remus really doesn’t want to run after anyone tonight. She doesn’t comment on his clothes which confirms that his roommates are exaggerating and probably caught on his slightly bothered mood from this morning to assume that Remus might just need a shag to feel better. Lily is far more gracious in her concerns.

The Chimera is busy as always. They easily pass the threshold enveloped in the stone wall with living paintings that spit and scream at anyone not worth the entry - or straight up closing up at the last moment for anyone to brutally eat stone. Remus particularly liked to watch the entries over the first months of the opening to see people persisting to try and getting mad over their own intolerance.

All dancers are dressed up in their vests or gowns with a group already on the stage and entertaining the first clients with joyful music. It’s more than often lively and busy with drinks and foods, which can easily tire Remus out as he never really finds the desire to dance nor find any of the charming employees to please his eyes and even less to pull anyone. It’s breathy despite being underground and there are colourful lights floating around with charmed candles for every booth along with windows casting various landscapes. Anyone might believe it’s a cabaret by the clothes; though Mary lets her employees pick what they want to wear and prepare the shows without real limits and most people enjoy dressing up. Later during the night they have music and the scene is cleared for the public to dance on it after the series of colourful shows.

Mary waves at them upon noticing them, with a smile growing as Lily reaches for her above the bar to kiss her. “Hello, pretty woman,” she purrs, “what brings you to my humble establishment?”

Lily chuckles. “Of course for the charming hostess.”

Mary laughs and pouts her lips for another kiss, offering a slight sliver of her attention to them with a bored wave. “Hullo you three. Drinks? Anything for your lot to leave my girlfriend at the bar.”

“Not as strong,” James says. “And you’re free to do anything you want.”

“We are sadly not here only for fun,” Lily reminds.

“Yes, I know.” She looks meaningfully around before pulling out four glasses and bottles, already making their usual drinks. “You are lucky though. One is already here but I can’t say if the rest will join. They come and go but it’s not regular or anything. Though it’s rare for only one to stay.”

“Really?” Lily perks up, looking around with a perfect innocent curiosity. “Oh.”

Remus also notices the head of almost white hair sitting at a table near the stage. He could have recognized Pandora even if he hadn’t seen the picture with Regulus. There isn’t much he can catch from here but she doesn’t seem to have changed. She is deeply engrossed in the shows of dancers throwing their legs around to show off their stockings and rocks her head in rhythm of the music with a purple cocktail sitting in front of her.

“We are lucky,” James muses, “we can already solve the letter and see that she hasn’t eloped with him.”

“Eloped?” Mary frowns. “Regulus? With a woman?”

“It was only a weak possibility,” Lily explains. “We need to look into everything especially when we don’t really have a real idea.”

“Love, I saw the pictures of Regulus– he is definitely gay.”

“Really?” James chirps.

“Your gaydar doesn’t add up in our case, though I do believe you.”

“Hum, I’m never wrong… So nothing on his brother yet?” She whispers back with an obvious excitement at the prospect of joining the case, to which her girlfriend slightly scowls. “What? I’m only happy to help!”

“And in case we really have a mad brother to deal with, you won’t join us,” she calmly warns.

“We don’t even know if he is in London or any possible destination from the Portkey Office,” Peter explains. “Sirius doesn’t seem to have any contacts here outside of his family but none of them would talk to him.”

“Let’s go talk to Pandora,” James decides and nudges Remus when he finishes his glass of alcohol and lets Mary serve him another time. “You are the perfect opening.”

He frowns. “I barely know her.”

“Yes but you two chatted at Hogwart. Just act curious about her whereabouts after all these years, just small talk.”

“James is right,” Lily agrees. “I will try to mingle around to see if any of the regulars might know anything about this lot.”

Remus is pretty sure she already knows every information possible for their case from this place thanks to Mary but he knows better than trying to cut off her girlfriends’ times. To be honest, he is really curious about Pandora; she is a nice girl from what he remembers. He wouldn’t have imagined meeting her again under these circumstances, especially since he doesn’t remember her hanging out with any of Regulus’ supposed Slytherin friends back then. Though he might have not paid attention either.

“I will scan for a magical trace of him around,” Peter says. “Even his room was completely cleaned from it so there was nothing to follow. And I tried to look around for one but if he was here recently and with her then maybe there is something.”

That is weird. Cleaning magical traces asks for a lot of care, though they probably ask their house-elf for that, but there isn’t quite a use of it either outside from not being trackable. It would add to the elope hypothesis, or that his parents might have done something and want to target their own estranged son. If there isn’t any trace of magic through the whole house, Remus doubts it’s the work of someone outside of their life to go around like that with this much care. It only makes things more difficult and worrying for Regulus if he really was abducted. They might not be dealing with amateurs.

Pandora is deeply engrossed in the show, not even looking where her hand lands when she brings her drink closer to catch the straw between her lips. By the lack of movement of her eyes, Remus supposes she is more in her thoughts than admiring the dancers.

“Hullo! Pandora, right?” James chirps with that easy-going tone and glances at Pandora with a friendly smile. “We were at Hogwarts together, weren’t we?”

Her green eyes strike perfectly with the dark tone of her skin. She hasn’t changed a bit and her smile blooms with a bow of her lips before it spreads. Even her hair hasn’t lost its ivory and gold shine, with one braid tangled with what looks like a green and blue jewel, and is still as long as always like a drape of stars.

“Hello.” She doesn’t show whether she recognizes James and Remus wouldn’t take her cheerness as a sign of recognition. “Oh, Remus! It’s been so long.”

He nods and can’t help but smile. She has been very nice to talk to in Hogwarts despite not quite getting to know each other. They never really did that.

“Yes, hi. You look well.”

“And you’re James Potter,” Pandora says with her smile growing, cutting off James who was about to present himself. “You can sit down if you want. I remember you falling from one of the roofs.”

Remus barks a small laugh and James joins without much shame. “That was for the Christmas prank of our third year. My broom fell and when I accioed it I slipped instead of catching it.”

“Awful,” she comments without losing one piece of her joy. “Are you two together?”

“No,” Remus immediately replies.

“Sadly Remus doesn’t see how great I am.”

Pandora chuckles at James’ comment with a small look at Remus. "I see."

“Do you come here often? It’s the first time we see you here,” he says to bring back the conversation toward what they are here for. Still, he is curious about her whereabouts and happy to see her again.

“I’ve been coming here from time to time for perhaps almost two years? Yes, two,” she agrees. “I thought you might know this place because I remember you were friends with the owner at Hogwarts.”

Remus nods but James takes the lead.

“Yeah, we helped Mary to start it, though she wouldn’t admit it. I did a lot of advertisement,” he explains with a quick glance toward the bar. “I’m glad it brings more people together like this. We wouldn’t have met without it now that I think about it.”

Pandora plays with her drink with a smile still on, except that her gaze travels between them two with a grave edge.

“Yes. It’s really fortunate.”

Her attention shifts back to the show and they follow her lead. James meets Remus’ eyes for a split second before downing his drink. It’s only when the music quiets down for the dancers to get their respite with wide smiles and proud laughters that Remus focuses on Pandora.

The direct strategy would be to ask if she is here by herself and then pull the thread to her friends and more importantly Regulus. Most people underestimated her back at Hogwarts, Remus can remember that. She doesn’t come from a powerful family, a complete orphan, and she appears breezy if not unconscious of most things which gave her the wrong reputation of being a moron.

“I guess we never had the right timing to see each other until now,” Remus truthfully supposes as he has never spotted her since he left Hogwarts. “What have you been doing since school?”

“I experiment with potions. I’m not a potioneer per se, though I sell some, but I try to explore everything we could do with it. Recently I have been very close at concocting a potion as a way to share memories,” Pandora says. “There are things I would like to share with my friends but sometimes the timing isn’t right and memories are very moody creatures but I think I figured them out.”

James gapes at her whilst Remus has the dignity to not so openly be stunned. “Woah.”

“That’s– impressive,” he manages to articulate.

“Yes, I am.” She agrees with a blinding grin. “What about you?”

“We’re Aurors,” James replies. “We just couldn’t get enough of each other after seven years in the same dorm so we continued to be roommates too.”

Pandora’s face is perfectly blank, taking her time to look at him and then at Remus before grimacing. He huffs a laugh as he recalls a similar reaction of hers like that back in Hogwarts. She can perfectly hide her reaction if she wants to but she actually takes her time to show it which he always found endearing. If he wasn’t the wanker working as an Auror he would pull the same face.

“That’s sad.” James blinks at her, puzzled by her clear disapproval and he chances a look at Remus. “You could do so much better.”

“Well— life happens,” Remus says because there is nothing else to add at her scrutinising eyes.

The dancers are coming out from the backstage after refreshing themselves from their show. They pass by their tables, answering to regulars and newcomers complimenting them with whistles and more applauds. Remus would have ignored this easily, to focus on James bouncing back with another conversation, probably treading towards Regulus, if it wasn’t for the intriguing whiff that catches him by his throat.

His senses hit him roughly, tackle his mind down, and he can’t fight it as he turns to follow the scent as much as he can. Many perfumes dance with it but barely manage to get the same charming intensity that leaves Remus drooling and dry of any wit. It’s one of the dancers though he can’t yet discern who because they all drift here and there for a drink, snack or chatting.

They are all somewhat familiar to him, considering he is a regular, and he does pay attention to the shows but nothing more. Women lack certain bits and there aren’t many men up on the scene whether in these tantalising shorts or joyful dresses for him to pay more attention to it. To his surprise, there are only women who danced just now which means that his mouth is itching to get on something that shouldn’t interest him. His eyes continue to jump from one to another and the smell is tingling, licking at his nostrils and graciously sinking into him without feeding him.

Remus has never found anything quite like this and even less when the full moon is still out of reach to rouse the wolf - who is quite awake now. He could almost believe someone dragged the moon in here to have such a reaction but it’s not an itch to get out or fight. It’s contemplative, seeming satisfied with Remus looking for them both, but it greedily forces him to continue to breathe in without a real break.

“Rem’?”

He hasn’t realised he has turned in his seat to peer at the dancers who passed them until James’ hand nudges his forearm. His fingers slowly let go of the glass that somehow feels too fragile now.

“Yes? Sorry.” Pandora doesn’t appear to notice anything weird about him. The perfume is still here, faint but alive and probably mingling around them. “Got a bit lost in my head.”

“You do have a big head,” she agrees.

“He does,” James laughs, “anyway, what were you saying? Graves? Brother?”

Remus freezes, surprised about the subject. He can’t have missed that much. The scent hasn’t left and it doesn’t feel like it’s moving. It’s not chocolate, one of the things that always made his nose sharp, and he doubts it’s a real perfume that someone puts on.

“You have a brother?” He forces himself to ask to try to get his brain on track. The wolf is upset about it and huffs at him to sniff the air like a bloody animal.

“Yes.” She is pleased by it. “It’s a long story, see his father only wanted one heir and a man so he discarded me when we happened to be twins. But it’s alright, Evan and I found each other at Hogwarts though. We look very alike don’t we?”

“Rosier?” James asks, clearly having no idea what Evan Rosier looks like but Remus is not better with his eyes trying to get away from him to find the scent. “I’m happy you found each other at least.”

“He isn’t as fun as Barty for the grave cleaning though. His imagination isn’t as extreme and he isn’t as curious as Reggie so I’m always the only one making up a story really. Dorcas tells only happy endings compared to them.”

Remus has missed too much but he supposes that James is doing something good because Regulus is mentioned. Pandora cleans graves apparently and he manages to catch on that she likes to picture stories of people’s names she finds in there. It sounds interesting but he can’t ignore the memory of the smell.

His brain hasn’t fully grasped it which leaves him craving for more details. Outside of how charming and exquisite it smells to him, Remus is more curious about what could feed him this sudden mad hunger. He is worried it’s a person but it only came with the dancers, people he is already familiar with. It’s still in the wide room of the Chimera which gives him many options but he can focus on it enough to suppose it’s coming from behind him, toward the bar. He empties his drink but it doesn’t solve the desert growing in his throat.

“You and Regulus are close?” James inquires. “He never went to Hogwarts, did he?”

“He studied in France but Evan knew him from before,” she explains. “He would have hated you.”

“What?!” He blurts out with too much honesty. Remus would roll his eyes if he wasn’t trying to focus on his touch, sight and ears to forget about the taste he craves for. “Why?”

“It’s actually positive. Reggie prefers silence over noise but you would grow on him, I know it. He masters hatred like a thorny blanket except that he needs to be reminded to take it off but I have the feeling you would manage through that quite easily. Which would immensely annoy him at first.”

“Would I?” James beams and sends a pointed look at Remus. “That’s nice to know.”

“Aries and Leo always find each other,” she comments.

James shakes Remus with a sharp elbow, which gets him a rough guttural grumble that borders a growl– it surprises them both but Pandora doesn’t appear to pay attention to them. His heart hammers with guilt but it’s swiftly buried, sealed, mourned by the smell that keeps dragging his mind away.

“You know, I’m happy to finally have someone agreeing with me about that,” James says as his tone perfectly jumps back to their previous mood.

Remus can perfectly see that James noticed that he isn’t quite in his right mind, his eyes keep jumping between him and Pandora, and he really tries to focus back on them before he loses control over his saliva. It’s completely stupid because he can’t taste a smell.

“So, hum,” he clears his throat because he really feels out of his skin, “you’re friends with Regulus.”

“Yes, very close. I even managed to get a baby out of him-”

“Sorry, what?” James blurts out with a lot of emotions flying past his eyes.

“Oh well I would like a child but I wouldn’t want to make Evans jealous by asking Barty and I love Dorcas but she doesn’t have that craziness I enjoy so I figured I could ask for the great genes of Regulus,” she happily tells and finishes her drink like it’s her reward. “I got him to sign everything while he was drunk so once I’m ready I will use it.”

Remus would absolutely love to know more about it but his clothes are starting to itch. It’s definitely the wolf getting impatient and sadly it’s really getting on his nerves. There isn’t even one thing he could think of to cause such a reaction but perhaps he has found some sort of werewolf catnip? He needs to figure it out.

“Erm, but are you aware that Regulus has been missing?”

His hair feels rough and sharp when he frustratedly passes a hand through it. Giving up on listening to all of them, he casts a look behind him to survey the room. He knows it should be his job first but it’s like a fever crawled up to him to rub itself all over him with no respite. There aren’t many chances that Regulus is even here anyway.

“I know that… You are looking for him, aren’t you? I do not know what is happening nor where he is.”

There are less people compared to before, a lot probably went to the more private rooms to drink and chat rather than the main room when there won’t be a show before an hour or so. Except that the smell is still here - a relief and a torture. No matter who he scrutinises, he can’t focus on it.

“Regulus didn’t contact you before disappearing? Anything about his plans, family or even his brother?”

“Oh, Sirius? We met a while ago when we visited France. He would never hurt Reggie.”

The problem is simple: Remus recognizes most people here and by how he reacted, it must be from one of the dancers or someone working in the back. Mary likes it to keep a close kind of family especially since they built this as a safe haven for queer people so he would know of anyone new.

“You did? So he and Regulus get along?”

“Hum, well he wanted to see him again. We had to distract his guards that his parents always insist on sending after Reggie but it went fine.”

Perhaps some kind of new drug came out and Remus is able to smell and feel its effect. They rarely came upon substance cases but it always tingled his noses when they came across it. Except that now it’s not just his nose that bothers him but his whole skin tries to crawl outside to reach for this source of euphoria. He can’t picture what he would even do with it. Feast? Bite? Swallow? Kiss? Many options flutter in his mind.

“You don’t think Sirius is the reason why Regulus disappeared?”

Pandora laughs just as Remus’ eyes finally grasp onto something. One of the dancers is sitting at the bar and dragging two fingers across her plate to lick them after, which is probably more proper than licking the plate directly—except that it’s Valeria. Remus knows her quite well ever since he found her reading one of his favourite books when she had a break. Nothing about her having to act lady-like but she would never do that in the middle of the Chimera with everyone to see. It can’t be Valeria.

She shifts, slightly turning the plate to have a better look with the nearest candle before slowly dragging her index figure with a fervent smile that only grows as she puts it back in her mouth. It’s not Valeria.

All the signs are almost not there but it flickers like a mocking callout to Remus for him to focus on his stupid job by listening to James and Pandora rather than the slight shift of hair colour and the hints of tattoos shimmering before disappearing when she takes a look around. It’s definitely a disillusion charm– which is pretty bold considering that everyone here knows her. The scent also comes from her. There is no mistake with how the wolf perked up and watches with sharp attention.

Whoever is trying to pass as Valeria is not really careful, she actually seems far more invested in finding another dessert by her swift look around the bar but everyone is busy with a large group of people at the bar. Remus watches her huff and purses her lips in a big pout, which clearly isn’t hers but he doesn’t see any hint of their real appearance. Their eyes meet his, looking prettier than ever with a silver drop that disappears within a blink, and a second of surprise is on their face before they smile with all their teeth at him.

“Remus?”

He grunts a sort of answer, only noticing now that he stood up. James calls for him but his words are shredded, spit and trampled before Remus can react as he heads toward the bar. The usurper looks delighted to be at the end of his unwavering stare, which must border on gold because the wolf is up and thrilled that they are finally getting closer to the smell.

This has to be a trap. He is only going there to check on what’s going on–nothing else. There is no reason for him to breathe like he has been drowning for centuries and his jaw keeps snapping like a sensible chopper because of the drool he keeps swallowing. Remus puts a hand over his mouth, badly imitating a cough, to prevent anyone from noticing how delirious he looks. He tries to not appear as aggressive as he feels to be, playing it as reaching for the bar and not Valeria who bats his eyes at him with an almost impatient wave of leg.

James is certainly still with Pandora but must have made a sign to Peter and Lily about Remus - he knows him enough to figure out that he isn’t in his right mind. He better figures out what’s going on before they worry. The wolf definitely isn't up for any kind of company that doesn’t include this poisoning smell.

A snarl almost escapes him when he realises the fake Valeria’s attention has moved on from him. They don’t look happy about it but they still stare off somewhere down the corridor leading to the private rooms for the employees. With a throw of her hair that flickers to a pitch black compared to Valeria’s light brown hair, they leave their chair to walk away.

“Remus, you alright?”

His attention snaps to Mary facing him with a curious, slightly worried face, at the bar. The group of people is served near them but it’s still not enough to get his mind off the scent that is clearer for him to drink it; the wolf even seems to be getting drunk on it.

“Yes,” he roughly lies as his eyes quickly jump to see the last sight of the usurper slipping past the curtains to be in the private quarters. “Valeria.”

“Yes?” She replies, still confused and appears to finally catch on the plate the false Valeria left behind. “Oh, she is great tonight. I’m a bit surprised because she called in sick this morning but she still showed up. I’m curious what potion she took because she really sounded awful. I suppose that’s why she was so hungry to beg for a piece of raspberry cake.”

Well this only confirms his suspicions. There is nothing stopping him– there is a suspicious individual within his vicinity who shows up on a possible scene related to a missing person, which Remus has the duty to check now.

He licks his lips. “Thanks.”

“Rem’, I’m not judging but what did you take-”

The wolf is huffing and pushing and frankly Remus can’t even be mad at it because he is rushing to find this usurper. It’s getting clearer, the smell is fresh in the corridor and he can hear a pleasant humming something down there. His skin is clinging to him like a smothering blanket that only slows him down.

This time he can’t focus his nose on anything else but Remus tries to keep his mind on something that makes him stop drooling. He needs some logic and he tries to puzzle together what could excite his body so much. He does not feel up to eat whatever is smelling but there is a sharp desire to devour mixed with something softer like care. The only smells he can connect with people, with that intensity, are only with James and Peter but that’s because they spent the full moon together. His wolf sees their Animagus as a pack, and in a way their humans form too, but it’s probably a mix of these two that cause him to have such a sensitivity to it. Everyone has their own smell but it’s rarely as strong as them – though Mary has a stronger smell which sometimes clings to Lily.

The scent he is trailing after is something beyond that. It terrifies him. Yet his steps only accelerate until he catches whoever is dressing up as Valeria near a dressing room. They are expecting him by the look of it, playing with the strap of frilly tissue on their thigh as they are laying against the wall with a twinge of innocence in their posture if the smirk on their face wasn’t just calling for mischief and hunger. The dress is opened just at the right level at their hip to show enough skin to be sexy if needed and they are obviously pulling everything out.

It’s crazy because Remus’ eyes do take this all in despite never being interested in women– which only weirds him out because they still appear as Valeria which he never thought of in that way at all. He needs to remember that they are obviously looking or preparing something here which brings him to softly slip his wand near his hand if it needs to come to be despite the wolf snarling at him at the thought of hurting them. This smell is very dangerous.

“Hello there.”

Whoever they are either don’t care about their disguise or can’t make it any better because it flickers here and there– they must really be wearing the dress Valeria usually wears because their paler skin appear without changing their dress. He can’t see anything beyond that despite keeping his eye on them.

Remus’ voice is stuck in his throat, roughly croaking a vague disapproving answer, which might as well be a huff or a snarl because the wolf tries to crawl out the closer they get to them. The disillusionment charm flickers again, flashing a sharper jaw than Valeria’s with the hints of beauty marks that cause his eyes to zero in and frown once they disappear.

“Need anything handsome?” Their voice must come from a siren because Remus finds himself with no desire to even interrogate them. They sound like a man, to his relief, with a smooth and crooning tone that easily gets him to dip his head to catch every notch. “I’m sure I can be of help, for anything. I'm quite talented.”

A hand goes to touch his arm, finally shaking him off the entrancing feeling that flutters across him. By pure instinct, he breathes in more of that smell.

“You’re not Valeria,” he articulates as he tries to bring something different than saliva on his tongue.

“Mmh no,” they chuckle, tilting their head as their lips stretch in a smile that doesn’t fit on this face. “Disappointed?”

Remus is more disappointed that he finds himself wishing they would show drop the disillusion charm to check if they are as beautiful as they smell like. His mind tingles with an alarm but it doesn’t manage to soothe his body and his breathing. He must look like a maniac but they don’t appear put off by it by their hand brushing over his arm.

They must be using a potion or a spell, anything that triggers him like this just can’t be anything good– yet they are pushing and melting into each other, falling against the wall as their lips keep finding each other.

It’s worse than Remus expected, it’s only a brief realisation as his thoughts are ignited by every touch of skin. Their breath mingles and fills them with no ends or start. He has never reached such a pleasure as Remus only recalls himself once his arms hit the wall.

Their hands keep caressing his shoulders, tightening and fondling him, which finally makes him realise the usurper is taller than expected; not as much as Remus but it’s a stark difference compared to before. His eyes are more focused on capturing the array of black tattoos on the pearl white collarbone and hands that keep petting his jaw now– he wants to drink all of this in but his mouth is completely fuzzy from the scent alone.

His lungs have barely been reintroduced to air before they are kissing again, impatiently and with a vigour that should clash between them but it fits perfectly between all of their contacts. The wall creaks as Remus roughly groans through his nose and earns a melodious chuckle swallowed by them both. He has completely caged them and by the lascivious smile, Sirius Black is thoroughly pleased-

Sirius Black.

Remus can’t jerk away even if he tried to. There is no mistake that it’s Sirius Black’s lips that he just bite and sucked on, the perfect reddish hint that calls him to dive back in, as they spread in something akin to sheepish and insatiate. The wanted poster has done a pitiful portrayal of him though no one would have truly tried to arrest Sirius Black if they ever saw that look on his face.

“Do you want to see what’s under my dress?”

He should absolutely not be interested in that but nothing much matters at this point. Whatever choice Brought him to use a disillusion charm hadn’t included the clothes which means Sirius Black is really wearing these dresses made to fit every curve to tease all eyes. Remus' eyes are disoriented between the patch of stark skin, the obscure ink of the tattoos and the arrays of beauty marks here and there before he even notices the slight puffed breasts hidden by the intimate lavender colour of the dress. One of Remus’ legs is pegged, rode frankly, by Sirius' legs where there is the obvious feeling of a hard-on. He can’t piece together who brought this position first but his body doesn’t stop trying to melt with him and to disappear into the wall to finally be alone. Anything to continue to kiss one way or another.

“Ah, sorry for that,” Sirius says, plunging his hands to take out the bundles that filled his cleavage and clearing the view for Remus to see the nipples down there– pierced. “Hope you don’t mind these are fakes, though I’m sure I can find a way to redeem them.”

“Merlin—” He croaks with a feverish voice and a bemused shake of the head.

“I reckon we don’t need to invite that lad.”

“You,” Remus scoffs and his brain is too slow to react before Sirius drags him back down for a deep kiss.

Their bodies embrace each other with no need of questions. It’s nothing like an oasis because no part of him has ever craved any of this, unaware of the pleasure and the hunger that has been sleeping; discovering an el dorado has never been in any of his life’s plans. Remus has found something alluring, wicked and unstoppable, feeding on his peace and an uncalled desire.

A groan escapes him as their crotches meet in a tandem and a heel slowly messes up the back of his pants. It has never came to his mind and he doubts he would have found this in any way, outside from pretty, arousing if he hasn’t been introduced now to the fantastic image of a man dressing up as a woman– which should remind him of something but he has more important matters such as collecting all the different noises Sirius can make. He is high on this sudden treat and the wolf is fully placated, put to bed and charmed to even focus on anything else that doesn’t imply kissing, breathing or fondling.

It costs him a second too much to notice someone else in their corridor and another one for the rush of magic shot at him. Remus just has the time to turn, hand flying to his wand to hopefully cast a protection but he is hit just on the side by a Pretificus Totalus. He would swear and trash if he wasn’t completely frozen and it hits him all at once of what’s happening when Sirius catches him with a sullen look.

“Bloody wanker!” Someone whisper-shouts and Sirius throws them a dirty look but Remus can’t see anything else than himas he is facing the wall. “You promised you would follow the plan!”

“First off, you're really rude. Who taught you these manners?”

“Don’t make it worse Sirius, we need to get out of here. And if anything it’s you, you absolute slut."

Sirius groans out and glances at Remus, who hopes he manages to at least glare at him because he realises that he is obviously impersonating Valeria because he is a wanted man.

“Since when do you give orders?”

Whoever is at the other end is completely unfamiliar, voice and smell-wise, to Remus but they don’t appear to be getting along with Sirius by the pissed tension as they come closer.

“Espèce de connard, bouge-toi !”

Sirius replies perfectly in french with probably more words than necessary and moves Remus in a way he would have thought of protective if he hadn’t just fallen to their trap. They definitely used something to make him lose his bloody mind– what could it be? Is there really some kind of werewolf catnip he never heard of? That would imply they know about him and figured they would come here. A sharp wince stops his thought as something definitely took some of his hair.

He is just enough turned to face Sirius crouching down to look at his face with an impish grin. “See you later, handsome,” he whispers with the gentlest kiss on his lips before settling him back down.

Thankfully a part of the smell leaves with him. He tries to catch on where they run off to or find any hint of why they are even looking for at the Chimera. The wolf is particularly unhappy but compared to Remus it’s not about being completely fooled but about the loss of the proximity with Sirius Black. It doesn’t stop him from unashamedly breathing in the last trail here and there but this time he intensely tries to piece together how come it affects him this much.

Whoever is his accomplice also has a particular scent but nothing compared to the intensity of Sirius’. People sometimes have a stronger smell, and while he supposes for James and Peter’s case is because of their animagus, he has come across some people with a stronger scent than others without needing perfume.

The lights suddenly go off and there is a sort of panic erupting in the main part of the Chimera but no real screams or signs of attacks. Remus will definitely capture Sirius Black now, just for the mockery and the use of his lycanthropy against himself.

“Remus!” Peter exclaims and rushes to his side. “What happened to you?!”

He is careful as he slightly leans him over to have a better look before taking out his wand to cast a swift Finite. Remus quickly sits up with a pained grunt because his head is aching.

“Bloody bastard.”

“Who got you?” He asks, checking around with his wand still up before noticing James and Lily joining them.

“Sirius Black.”

“He was here?!”

“Remus, you alright? Mary said you looked weird,” Lily says.

“Mate you looked famished.”

“I’m fine,” he replies, with a stern look at James’ frown, passing a hand through his hair.

“It was a planned spell,” Peter explains as he stands up. “I could feel the trail of magic here and there but nothing concrete.”

“So they prepared it,” James mumbles. “We looked at the whole place and we would have noticed it if someone triggered anything from the main rooms. Nothing seems to be missing but Mary is taking a look once she properly closed the whole place.”

“Remus, are you hurt?” Lily curiously asks, crouching to look at his head. “What was it?”

He shrugs as he recalls what he was doing in the middle of an investigation. His mouth almost makes him tickle with the memories of the rush and the heat that overcame him but he is prepared to be rational this time.

“I think they set a trap for me, fell right into it.”

“Shit,” she mutters. “Anything broken?”

“No.”

Lily still helps him up on his feet and aims his wand at any sign of discomfort before freezing despite Peter and James still chatting about what they saw and heard.

“Remus. Tell me this isn’t it.”

“What?”

“Is he alright?”

Remus only realises when they all come around him with Lily staring at his pants, and the most disappointed look she has ever directed at him, that his pants are no help to hide all the blood that has rushed to his crotch ever since he properly met Sirius Black.

“Please tell me this is not what I think it is.”

“Lily-”

“Didn’t know we invited our fourth roommate,” James snickers with Peter who tries to not stare at his boner.

#hp marauders #marauders #regulus black #sirius black #starchaser #remus lupin #barty crouch jr #pandora #myriadparacosm #james potter #peter pettigrew #lily evans #marylily #mary macdonald #dorlene #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #rosekiller #writing #wolfstar #jegulus #emmeline vance

[datmoongamer]

Some thoughts about my fascist Harry playthrough so far

TL;DR Microdosed fascism, fascist Harry is more interesting than moralist Harry, this is my third playthrough so I built for int/mot and made him more confident, logical, and authoritative.

I am... having a lot of fun on my fascist playthrough, third playthrough overall. First one was moralist, second one was a hardcore communist one that I haven't finished yet.

Playing Harry as someone who believes that a strong leader could return Revachol to its former glory. How the leader would go about doing it, he's not sure, he's just a random guy trying to do some good in the world. He's also not sure who the ex-something is, but he knows she's a she, and that she burned him bad, so he's bitter about women but not stupid enough to voice his thoughts aloud. 'Sides, inceldom seems like the natural course of action for him.

Can't go through with being racist, so I microdosed fascism. Said anti-communist stuff when it seemed acceptable, preached about the glory of Revachol, but I went for the "very cool but I have some questions about the murder case" option whenever race/immigration came up and (so far) dodged all the conversations about sex/gender/women.

High int and mot. I made him calculating, able to pick up on inconsistencies in people's statements. I miss the more esoteric skills and I miss hearing Volition yap at me, but the int and mot skills make up for Volition's silence. He can think his way out of most situations that would otherwise require Volition to wrangle the phy skills.

Superstar for fun but knows when to be the boring, serious cop. The superstar thing is a mindset he adopted to avoid spiraling entirely into despair. If he jazzes himself up this hard, he doesn't feel as bad about himself.

Rene is the only bearable fascist (so far, haven't reached Lena's racism deep lore yet or met Gary and his buddy). Measurehead and the Racist Lorry Driver are just... man. They're pieces of work. Rene says things like "Revachol is a shithole... good ol' days... I fought in the war..." and I can see how someone would get like that. You can't circlejerk with a fellow moralist because you're both apolitical but with Rene you can both be like "you're so fr... make Revachol great again... you... you get it..."

On my first playthrough, I was a moralist. I was so centrist that I didn't do the political vision quest because I thought "hmm that sounds political, not touching that lol." Even if I don't agree with fascism, trying to see how parts of it are feasible and applying them to a legitimate viewpoint I/Harry can push has been much more fun than saying "hmm I don't have an opinion on this."

Not a sorry cop this time. I apologized a lot in my first playthrough because Empathy kept telling me how badly I fucked up and Harry was a brand new fuck up to me. This time, I'm leaning into the superstar and boring cop persona. When I have some leeway to joke around and someone tells me what a piece of shit I am? Haha, that was me. Own up to it. When someone brings up my suicidal, violent tendencies? Acknowledged, let's move along.

Third playthrough Harry feels much less like a spineless, albeit good-hearted loser. This Harry is jaded and takes no shit from anyone. No cooperating with Evrart, it would be unseemly for a cop to do his dirty work. An NPC starts dissing him? He pushes for the information he needs and leaves, not his business. He'll joke around on the job with Kim and the interviewees, but his goal is always to walk out with the information he needs, and he's not afraid to exert his (nearly non-existent as a skill, so he does this through the insane pile of evidence he's building and invoking the title of RCM officer) authority when he needs to.

#disco elysium

[awordwasthebeginning]

Moonacre Week 2023

Day 01: Locket

1423

“We should have known not to trust him.” George Merryweather gnashed his teeth as his wife cleaned the deep cut in his leg with the sourest wine she could have found. “Everyone knows de Noir is still more French than English, despite his family having been here for generations – argh!”

He jerked his leg away, knocking over the bowl in the process. Bloodied water spilled and drenched his wife’s skirt as well as the straw on the floor.

Lady Eliza sighed. “You need to hold still. The wound needs to be sown shut. Bite on your belt if you must, or a spoon.”

George scoffed. “Come here, Ben.”

His younger brother had been leaning against the wall next to the window, where a gentle draught made the heat almost bearable. Now he uncrossed his arms and came closer. “What for?”

“Hold my leg while ‘Liza sows it.” George stretched the limb. Fresh drops of blood welled from the wound.

Benjamin knelt on the floor and put his weight on his brother’s leg. “I suppose”, he said while Eliza threaded a vile-looking needle, “this means I will not be marrying Lady Loveday?”

“Definitely no- aurgh! – not.”

“If I did,” Benjamin said, voice strained, “we might own de Noir’s land within a few years.”

“You might own it, you mean.” George gripped his shoulder so hard Benjamin would see the bruises days after. “And you don’t know that. He’ll marry again, and father another little bastard who will take that land from you – aaaargh – no, we’ll let him be branded as the traitor he is.”

“By whom?” Benjamin asked scornfully. “The King? He’s not two years old, and the Queen is French, in case you had forgotten.”

George glared at him but did not say another word before Eliza had finished tending to his wound. The silence in the chamber matched the sweltering heat outside.

Suddenly a voice piped up. “Doesn’t Sir de Noir have a son already?”

The three adults looked up in alarm. In the shadowy corner of the room, Eliza and George’s young daughter put down her needlework. “The men said so.”

George took a deep breath, but Eliza was faster. “Maria, my dear,” she said. “Fetch me some more water, please. I need to clean the wound before I wrap it.”

Maria gave the floor a sullen look but got up and picked an earthenware jug from the shelf with which she left the room.

Only then, George exhaled.

“Ben,” he said sharply. “Go talk to the men. She mustn’t know about the de Noir brat.”

Maria trudged down the stairs, clutching the jug to her chest. Her mother wasn’t there, and so she allowed herself to look as sullen as possible. They never told her anything! She knew her father and uncle had returned from a successful battle and had been attacked on the way up from the coast, by de Noir men, her father had said. She understood all that. She knew all about politics. She understood why de Noir couldn’t be trusted, and why Benjamin mustn’t marry de Noir’s daughter, obviously. And she was sure – she was sure! – that de Noir had a son. She knew it! So why would they send her from the room as if that was something she should not know or talk about?

With all the possible indignation of a nine-year-old, she shoved open the door to the courtyard. The full heat of the midday sun hit her like a wave. Squinting, she made her way across the yard towards the well. The roof built above it offered barely any shadow or shelter, and she hurried to fill the jug with wonderfully cool water.

However, she was reluctant to go back inside. She was still vexed at her hurried dismissal. The adults could wait a little longer. The old stable-hand had told her that the dog had had her litter. She had meant to see for herself, and this was as good an opportunity as any. So she covered the jug with a cloth, and made her way around the stable towards the kennel.

There were no dogs in the kennel, newborn or otherwise. It was quite exposed to the sun. Perhaps the dog had found a more comfortable place to raise her pups. However, the kennel was locked, and as Maria approached, what had looked like a lump of old rags turned out to be a creature that raised its head weakly and looked at her through the wooden bars.

Maria gasped and took a step back. It was a man – a very young one, a boy even – but how miserable he looked! Dirty and bloodied, wild dark eyes in a face so smudged with mud it had been indistinguishable from the ground on which he lay.

This had to be one of the prisoners her father had taken, she realised. They had talked about having caught some of de Noir’s men, and she knew that not all of them were downstairs in the cellars.

Fascinated and curious, she approached the kennel again. When she was standing directly in front of the bars, he moved towards her, slowly. A metallic rattle made her aware of the iron chain which normally held the dangerous dogs at bay, and the iron ring of which was now fastened around his neck. Like he was the dangerous dog.

He did not look dangerous, she thought. He looked very weak. Like an old dog, or one of the beggars she had seen in London when her father had taken her there last summer. Weak, and miserable. How could he not be, out here in the sun, with no protection? The dogs had water, at least, did he not…? She saw the empty wooden cup, not a foot away from the bars.

Slowly, as if he was a dog, she reached out and picked the cup from the ground. She felt him watch her as she filled it with water from the jug. Carefully, she pushed the cup back through the bars and towards him.

He reached for it with a terribly thin arm.

“Slowly,” she said, echoing her mother’s words, as he began to down the water in hasty gulps. “Your stomach needs to get used to it first.”

He glared at her but obeyed when she refilled his cup three more times.

“The jug is almost empty,” she said. “I will have to fetch more water and come back later.” Then she turned her head. Someone on the other side of the stables was calling her name.

“Maria! Maria! Where is that child?”

“They’re looking for me,” she said to the boy in the kennel. “I have to go. I will come back.”

He reached out a hand. The gesture was accompanied by another metallic sound, but it wasn’t as loud and cruel as that of the iron chain around his neck, merely a small tinkle.

She held out her palm, and he placed something on it.

“I wish I could have lived so I could marry you.”

Maria stared at him, confused. She opened her mouth to say something, ask what on earth he meant, but the steps and calls were coming closer. She closed her fingers around the metal object, picked up the jug, and left, as if chased by the burning intensity of the boy’s gaze and the bitterness in his words.

Benjamin scolded her for taking so long, and not even having fetched water yet. “What have you been doing, you silly child, dilly-dallying around the castle? Is such an easy task too hard for you? Can’t you obey your mother’s orders for once?”

Maria swallowed. “I…I wanted to see the puppies. The dog had her puppies, Digweed says.”

She did not know why she lied, but if she told Benjamin about the boy in the kennel, she would have to tell him about the water, and the boy’s words, and the thing that was still pressing into her palm, and it felt safer not to.

“Puppies!” Benjamin imitated her high voice. “Well, I’m glad you’ve had your fun. Get the water now, your father is getting cranky. He won’t be happy you took so long.”

Her father could fetch the water for his stupid wound himself next time, Maria thought rebelliously, or not get wounded in the first place. Her expression sullener than ever, she filled the jug once more. When Benjamin wasn’t looking in her direction, she opened her palm.

A locket. A small silver locket, slightly dented so it didn’t close properly, but without any stains of mud or blood. A sun was engraved on one side, a moon on the other. It would have been a perfect lovers’ locket, Maria realised, and she also realised that it would have to stay her secret. Nobody could know that she had this. Nobody could know about what the boy in the kennel had said to her. She slipped the locket into her purse and picked up the jug.

Maria was sleeping soundly that night. She did not hear the carriage, the creaking of wooden bars, the cruel tinkling of iron chain links, did not hear whispered orders and muffled cries.

The boy in the kennel was gone the next day, and the locket weighed almost nothing in her purse.

#moonacreweek2023 #fic: did you miss me? #awordwasthebeginning writes #loquor #tw: period-accurate cruelty; wounds; dehydration; implied character death

[antiquarianandunusual]

Good Omens: You Don’t Have to Go Home, But You Can’t Stay Here (A Short Fic)

Read it on Archive of Our Own!

Rating: T and Up (For Mild Swearing)

Synopsis: Aziraphale hates it when he has customers in his beloved bookshop. Coincidentally, so does Crowley, who comes up with a brilliant idea to keep the shop blissfully empty.

Or: Sometimes, having Crowley’s sense of imagination pays off.

Word Count: 3,122

Trigger Warnings: Snakes

These days, Crowley had proven himself to be the most effective form of customer repellant that Aziraphale had found yet. Anyone in their right mind found Crowley to be particularly off-putting because he was a walking enigma, a strange combination of something almost uncannily modern and impossibly ancient as he somehow managed to give the impression that he knew both nothing at all and so much more than any other could comprehend. Aziraphale, at least, had the hospitable personality to make his own brand of odd more bearable for humans; they often pinned him only as eccentric, while Crowley earned the pleasure of descriptors such as hostile and a mafioso, which he typically received with indifference. They were still much kinder than what his fellow demons were likely calling him down in Hell these days.

What was especially interesting, however, was how he disturbed the patrons of A.Z. Fell and Co., Antiquarian and Unusual Books. Aziraphale knew his clientele well, and most of them could handle the unsettling aura Crowley gave off. Most of them were plagued daily by evils much more menacing than the mere presence of a slightly surly demon because that was being human these days, and they drew the line not at hellish influence but at riffraff being in a store that, while not necessarily respectable, had the decency to present itself as one that was. The bookish sorts that were on the hunt for first editions were none too happy with the foul-mouthed gentleman who, when not browsing the collection and making rude, offhand comments about some of the authors as if he knew them personally, reclined in Aziraphale’s desk chair not unlike he owned the place.

Crowley liked being called “riffraff” much less than a “mafioso,” so he had made it his mission to make the customers- especially the ones who gave him dirty glances instead of minding their own bloody business- as miserable as possible. Aziraphale, of course, would never endorse poor behavior, but Crowley certainly didn’t see him running after the customers he chased away.

Unfortunately, as with Aziraphale’s other methods for keeping customers at bay, deploying Crowley on the poor masses was not a foolproof plan.

This was the lamentable case on an especially gloomy May afternoon, on which the weather decided that London deserved a dreary day after a short bout of pleasant ones. The rain came down in sheets, the wind was fierce enough that passersby were losing their umbrellas left and right, and the sky was dark and dismal despite it being barely noon. The unlucky ones who had been caught on the street in the storm were taking refuge in whatever shops were closest by, which, damn it, included the bookshop, a building that, Aziraphale now realized, appeared a little too welcoming compared to the tempest brewing outside. It wasn’t uncommon for him to close up shop on days like these, but the rain had come abruptly, and he had been flanked before he even thought to turn the sign on the front door to “CLOSED.” He couldn’t very well kick these people back out onto the street in these conditions, could he?

Well, technically, he could…

No. No, no, no. That was foul thinking. That crossed the boundary from protecting his property into just being plain mean.

Therefore, Aziraphale was rendered helpless to watch as not only the usual type of scholarly customer he’d come to expect browsed his collection but also those of less invested stock, people who would never dare step foot into an antique bookstore otherwise and who, under fair assumption, were unaware of how to handle the inventory with the reverence it deserved. He listened as the tourist types gushed about how cool it was that he knew about Shakespeare, one of them then proceeding to peevishly ask what a folio edition was and, upon a weak attempt to show off their limited Shakespearean knowledge by testing his, appeared entirely perplexed at the mention of any title that wasn’t Romeo and Juliet or A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He watched as one especially bored-looking patron kept pulling books from shelves and flipping through the pages haphazardly; no damage was done, but each time he caught them disinterestedly skimming, breathing escaped his mind, and he genuinely contemplated the extent of his self-control if a page were to tear. He unsubtly guarded the stacks of books on the floor with his body as more people came in. He firmly snipped through gritted teeth at several of them to Please, I implore you, wipe your feet and leave your umbrellas at the door!

He knew they all picked up on his odd behavior; several had glared back at him or whispered about it to their friends and partners. But Aziraphale was eccentric, not hostile or intimidating or any of those nasty things, and the musty shop, even with its quirky proprietor, was Heaven on Earth compared to the whirlwind outside.

It might have been tolerable if his emotional support demon hadn’t been so kind as to leave him to meekly fend them off himself without saying a word. Aziraphale wasn’t even certain when Crowley had wandered off or if he was still in the shop at all, but his Bentley was still very illegally parked outside. It was entirely plausible that he had just stepped out for a breath of fresh air (stir-crazy was all too achievable a state for him, especially when the shop was this busy), which the angel would have understood if he had only mentioned that he was taking a much-needed breather. Having someone to nonchalantly convince people to keep their hands to themselves with little more than a menacing comment or two would have been immensely helpful.

Aziraphale could feel himself getting worked up, which was a manner of being that he had yet to figure out how to adapt to. Stress-induced adrenaline made it feel like someone had taken a blunt and exceptionally sizeable club to the back of his head since fight or flight was a necessary attribute for an angel of his stature, and he was actively ignoring the growing urge to gamble on which it would be if he followed his base instincts (Heaven had failed to consider that this particular angel would, in fact, have a much higher quality of life if they had skimmed on this feature). His body yearned for sleep that it didn't truly need, and the din of small talk bounding off of the walls and the occasional crackle of thunder kept him far from the brink of calm. His manicure had long since been ruined as he absently bit at his nails.

He hadn’t been this irritable in a long, long time. Most of the time, it wasn’t in his nature, but nature be damned; he wanted these people out, and he wanted them out now.

Again, no. The responsible thing, Aziraphale reminded himself, would be to excuse himself, step into the backroom, and ground himself. The protective book collector and kindly neighborhood angel sides of him were at war, and for once, he needed to let his hospitable side take over the care of their home turf. Extenuating circumstances and all. If he could take a moment and flip the switch over to rational thinking, he would be better equipped to handle individual problems instead of grouping them all together, wrapping them collectively with caution tape that read DANGER! DANGER! YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL! in alarming bold letters. No one had tried to make off with anything yet, which was slightly reassuring, though he needed to be prepared to think quickly on his feet if someone did.

But then he remembered. He couldn’t leave the store unmonitored, and Crowley was still absent.

So, instead, he sulked. Like an uncharacteristically ornery dove, he observed scanning the shop from his desk with a withering glare. Everyone who passed him eyed him in return as if to say, Look at him, so deep in thought! Someone who owns a shop like this must be some sort of genius, thinking up all sorts of brilliant ideas.

In actuality, he was thinking, Who the Hell opens a bookshop when he doesn’t want to sell his books?

Lord, he could all-too-clearly identify Crowley’s cynical influence in his inner thoughts these days.

In recent years, it had come to his sharp attention just how asinine of an idea it had been in retrospect. But he had grown far too attached to the place over the years, and if those dark-suited businessmen so hellbent on getting their hands on prime real estate found out that he wasn’t using it as the commercial property it had been set aside for, they would eat him alive. Angels (or, at the very least, this angel) were silly like that, rife with sentimentality and ever prepared to turn a house into a home and stay there for hundreds of years, even to their own inconvenience.

Aziraphale peered mournfully out the window for a fleeting moment. The rain was showing no sign of letting up. Patience was yet another virtue that Aziraphale was losing his grip on.

It was then that, at the back of the store, a blood-curdling shriek rang out. Several customers jolted and retreated towards the front. Amidst the chaos of frantic footsteps and confused chatter was the sound of a leather-bound volume hitting the ground; Aziraphale made a mental note to make that his second priority.

He leaped up from his chair, sending it flying back into the desk with a clatter, and sped towards the sound of the scream. The source met him halfway; she was in her mid-50s, gaunt, and red-faced with fury. In her hands, she held an original 1901 copy of the American Standard Bible, which she promptly thrust at Aziraphale’s chest.

“I don’t know what kind of establishment you think you’re running here,” she gasped, “but this is unacceptable!”

Stammering, Aziraphale couldn’t help but wilt as she raved. “Ma’am, I do apologize, but I really have no idea what you possibly could be talking about!”

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Letting pests roam free like this!” She skittishly circled him and eyed the floor with alarm.

Gaping, Aziraphale resented the notion, but first: “What kind of pests?!”

“There appears to be a, um… snake hiding in a stack of books?” another patron chimed with about half as much alarm as the first.

Sighing, Aziraphale thanked the Almighty that at least it wasn’t rats; Crowley had proposed employing (employing had been the operative word, and he had not elaborated to the perplexed Aziraphale) a small army of them to keep the shop dingy because they were supposedly very effective workers and shockingly obedient under the proper guidance. He had staunchly refused, as rats chewed things and left droppings wherever they pleased and were, in a general sense, more of a risk than he was willing to take.

The relief began to fade as he realized what had been said. “What did this snake look like?”

“Big and dangerous,” sputtered the first customer.

“Big, yes,” offered the second. “It was also black, except for a stripe of red along its underside. Its teeth were rather large and sharp, too- we saw them when it hissed.”

Oh, fiddlesticks.

“It could have killed us!”

“Oh, yes, indeed.” Aziraphale feigned concern in a tepid effort to disguise how little he truly worried that someone would be harmed, which no one seemed to pick up on. Collectively, the patrons recoiled with alarmed gasps. “I’m quite familiar. Dreadfully venomous, I’m afraid. I’m not quite sure how the poor thing would have gotten in here, but he- it certainly cannot stay.”

The customers had evacuated themselves by “dreadfully venomous.”

Conspiratorially, he locked the door behind them, pulled the blinds, and guiltily satisfied, flipped the “OPEN” sign on the door over.

“Crowley!” he bellowed, voice reverberating throughout the store. No answer. He strolled along the aisles and occasionally stopped to peek behind shelves and stacks of volumes to no avail, stopping briefly to put the Bible back in its rightful place. “Crowley?”

As he passed through, it became abundantly clear that everything was suspiciously as it had been before the spike in business, a feat that was, quite simply, remarkable and otherwise impossible. He even found himself unable to find whatever book had been dropped and rest assured, he had been diligently checking. The sheepish way he grinned to himself was irrepressible, although he certainly attempted to maintain a stern face.

Aziraphale passed the Austens, and just beyond the shelf was when he heard it: the faint sound of hissing, curling around him like a vice, setting his veins ablaze. Despite his blood suddenly boiling with a fire that transcended anything mortals could put into words, he shivered but nonchalantly wiped the nervous sweat from his brow and chastised the otherworldly voice. “You know I hate it when you do that.”

Another hiss sounded out. Aziraphale glanced frantically around. Though it sounded like secretive serpents surrounded him from all sides, he knew there was only one culprit, and the slippery bastard had to be around here somewhere.

“I’m not upset,” he insisted as he knelt down and swept his hand along the floor underneath a dusty old armchair that no one had taken it upon themselves to use in years, as it was fairly uncomfortable-looking and stashed towards the back of the room.

Yet again, Crowley called. There was something musical to the sound, as if he were mocking Aziraphale, taking immense pleasure in this little game.

“I haven’t the slightest idea what makes you think I’m upset! Now, come out here this instant, you wily old serpent!”

There was no response this time. Aziraphale moved to check underneath a table with an indignant huff. No Crowley, and when he stood and whirled around, he saw a looming figure reclined in his chair; he jumped, grabbing at his chest more out of habit than necessity.

“You know I hate it when you do that!” he repeated. Crowley let out a derisive cackle, propping his elbows on the arms of the chair like royalty claiming a throne.

“You’ve never had a problem with it before.”

“Out there.” Aziraphale gestured sharply at the door. “In here, there’s no telling who it could be. I’ve had break-ins before, you know.”

“Oh, trust me, angel, you’re not going to have any problems for quite a while.” A cocky smirk played at his lips, and beneath what should have been menacing words was another chuckle fighting its way out.

Aziraphale focused suspiciously on adjusting his waistcoat and bow tie, both having gone askew as he scoured the shop. “That wasn’t very nice,” he mumbled.

“And neither was you calling me ‘dreadfully venomous.’”

“Aren’t you?” Aziraphale glanced up at him sideways with genuine confusion.

Crowley thought carefully for a moment, shrugged, and spun the chair around absently. “Probably. I dunno. Never actually bit anyone.”

“Either way, I had it under control.”

“Oh, you did not. I could smell the fear coming off you from a mile away.”

“I wasn’t afraid.”

“Bullshit.”

“Language!”

“For the last hour, you’ve been sitting over here, all nervous. Watching people like a hawk. Going all red in the face. Biting your nails.”

Crowley pointed lazily at Aziraphale’s hands, which the angel hurriedly shoved behind his back.

“Sorry to break it to you, angel, but people who have it under control don’t do that.”

“I- Well- Well, what are people going to say when they find out I have snakes in my store?”

Conspiratorially, Crowley leaned forward. “Easy. Nothing.”

Aziraphale thought he caught a playful wink behind his sunglasses.

“Besides,” he continued, “didn’t see you begging them to stay.”

Opening his mouth to defend himself, Aziraphale stopped dead in his tracks for a long moment as Crowley eyed him expectantly. He thought about the many ways he could have handled the situation besides feeding into the panic, such as reassuring the crowd that Crowley was ultimately harmless (which, these days, was mostly true), claiming the serpent as a pet, or even performing a minor miracle to help ease their woes. It occurred to him, as many of his actions did these days, that maybe- just maybe - he had fed into irresponsibility, and now that he saw the empty bookstore, everything in its place, and the chaos having given way to the peace and quiet he so found solace in, maybe the selfish feeling of relief was something he wanted to give into.

“Of course not.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “How could I when there was a dangerous creature roaming about?”

“You flatter me, angel,” Crowley deadpanned. Aziraphale scoffed mischievously. “What’re you going to do now that your schedule’s miraculously opened up?”

“What I always do on rainy days.” He began to beam, and the sun might as well have been shining outside, it was so bright. “Snuggle up with some cocoa and a good book.” He reached around Crowley and picked up a hefty, well-worn, and well-loved copy of A Tale of Two Cities off of his desk and gently waved it temptingly at Crowley, who groaned.

“Again?”

Aziraphale’s smile faded. “It’s a classic!”

“It’s boring.”

“You’re more than welcome to go home if you’d like.”

Of course, Aziraphale was bluffing, and so was Crowley as he feigned, considering it as he watched the ominous clouds hovering over London, still drenching the few passersby that dared be out in this weather.

“No, no, I’ll stay. Just don’t expect me to read it with you.”

“I never do, do I?”

And while Crowley did not, in fact, read alongside Aziraphale and took a substantial glass of wine over steaming cocoa, he did listen as Aziraphale reacted strongly to the words he’d read a million times before, muttered quotes under his breath, and occasionally piped up with tidbits of information and “fun facts” that Crowley cared only about because they came from him. On the rare occasion that the phone would ring, he took it upon himself to oh-so politely pick the receiver up and put it right back down, something Aziraphale thought about chastising him for, though ultimately decided not to.

For once, Aziraphale had taken a spot on the couch, and without hesitation, the part-time guard snake and full-time companion took it upon himself to use the angel’s shoulder as a pillow. He really hadn’t been lying when he said Dickens was a bore, after all, and his chronic stir-craziness seemed conveniently nonexistent that afternoon.

Once he was asleep, it was Aziraphale’s job to field the occasional call, each one of which he proudly answered with the assurance that they were quite definitely closed.

#good omens #aziraphale #aziraphale good omens #crowley #anthony j crowley #fluff #short story #fanfic #fanfiction #crowley is a bastard and that's absolutely what aziraphale likes about him #short fanfiction

[elladescent449-artspace]

Water

I initially wrote this as a standalone chapter but decided to make it a full chapter fic. This is for the stranded au, with Leonarado figuring out water and food to survive in the prison dimension. Once I start working on the fic and get the chapters going I'll probably delete this or at least edit it to have the chapter number and fic title.

Krang was leaving him alone lately. 

    He was laying in a comfortably shaped divot in the hull of one of the hundreds of ships that floated around. He was still healing from the big beatdown he had had with Krang a few weeks — had it been weeks — A week? — ago but he could probably thank his mutation or something for the quick healing. He would have to send Drax a thank you letter, or maybe a postcard. 

He chuckled at the thought.

Leonardo had woken up some time ago — that’s all time was at this point, seeing as how the lack of sun rotations was throwing off his inner clock. When his stomach growled he ignored it until the gnawing sensation started to become unbearable. It must be because he didn’t eat before he laid down to sleep. He had just been so tired lately. Leonardo made it half way up before he collapsed back into the dust. With a grunt he forced himself up into a sitting position, and then he stood, choosing to ignore the subtle sensation of pins and needles in his hands and feet.He crossed his arms to stretch them, and then straightened with a groan. 

“Good morning!” he shouted to himself with a smile. “The weather today is~” he announces, pausing for effect as he rotates a full 360 looking at the sky, “gray! There is no breeze, medium light, and a whole bunch of nothing!” His voice bounced into echoes as it traveled off and away into the gray void, leaving him in silence once more.

“Well, time for breakfast,” he muttered sourly, and he lept off of the platform. Gravity quickly fell away and he free-floated… fell? Fell through open space until he came into contact with some ruble. He propelled off of it towards a gargantuan Krang body, landing on a dusty white tooth the size of a taxi.

    Gravity was weird in the prison dimension, which is why he was able to walk into its mouth, still technically being straight up. It was like space moved around him. The mouth was cavernous, the tongue a bristled carpet like a shriveled cat-tongue, and multiple rows of teeth pointing inward on the cheeks and roof of the mouth. Leonardo had guessed that at some point it might have smelled bad, but now it just smelled like dust. In the back of the mouth, blocking the throat in bulbouse, smooth masses was breakfast. Sepia colored orbs varying from the size of pencil erasers to softballs. Leo grabbed onto one a bit smaller than his fist, he found that the taste of these were a bit more bearable.

    Back on earth there was a spoken rule about never eating an unidentified mushroom and the rule was probably the same here. He only learned these were edible when Krang shoved them down his throat to keep him from dying.

    “Man, I miss pizza.” Leo mumbled before crunching down on the ball. Like always, it immediately turned to coarse powder in his mouth, sending a stinging, rotten vegetable taste over his taste buds. Leonardo held it in his mouth for a moment before bracing and swallowing the chalk-like substance down his throat. It hit his stomach like a rock and he gagged,  “I miss pizza so much!”

    Leonardo sat down and slowly ate his chosen fungus. He didn’t gag as much as he used to, but it was still bad. A few months ago — months? — he’d be having breakfast by now. If it was Saturday Mikey would make pancakes, mini waffles, or those crepes that everyone liked, with fruit or whipped cream. If April was over she’d be the one to drag Donatello from his lab, otherwise it would be Raph. Dad would be up and make Leo his favorite tea, they always did like the same types of tea. He and his family would all sit down together and eat, talking about silly things, or what they wanted to do that day. They might hang out at home and watch tv or play video games in the arcade, they’d wait until evening and head to the boardwalk and take the ferris wheel to watch the sunset while they ate funnel cake. Raph used to be so scared of heights when he was little, so when Leo would ride with him he'd hold his hand as they reached the top.

    The memory was swallowed down with the last bit of mushroom. While his stomach was technically “full,” the shrooms always left his feeling dry and gross on the inside, like there was a thick film coating his intestines.

    He sat inside the mouth for a moment, loosely hugging his knees as he stared out into murky dead space. If this wasn’t a gruesome prison he might have actually found some sort of “macabre beauty” in it. Leonardo chuckled, that’s what Mikey would have called it. He would have said it in his silly professional art critic voice.

    ‘Eh, not really my type of art.’ Mind-Mikey sat next to him, holding his legs the same way as Leo and looking past him out of the mouth and into the gray. With Leo’s attention he stuck out his tongue mockingly. ‘Never really flowed with me.’

    Leo had a habit of imagining Mind-Mikey and his other Mind-brothers in their older, colored outfits. The mind version of Mikey wore his old colored knee and elbow pads, a call for older times as Dr. Feelings might call it.

    The mental image of Michelangelo nodded, and then he was wearing a sweater with the rounded prescription glasses. ‘What’s on the agenda today?’ 

    “Nothing.” Leo said flatly.

    ‘Well, you have to do something.’

    “No I don’t,” Leo looked away from him, choosing instead to stare back into the gray as he rested his head on his knees. “I don’t have to do anything anymore.”

    ‘I don't think I have to educate you on the importance of doing enriching activities. You need some form of mental stimulation in order to live a full, happy life.’

    “A full and happy life, huh?” Leo laughed dryly. 

    ‘Well, as happy as you can get.’

    There was no point. Leonardo didn’t want to do anything. He did what he was supposed to and he did what he needed too. His family was safe. The world was safe. There was no point in enrichment, there was no point in continuing this.

    ‘C’mon, get up.’ Mind-Mikey stood.

    Leo turned his head to look at him. Mind-Dr. Feelings was standing over him, expectantly but patiently staring down at Leo as he waited for him to follow. Leo groaned but still stood up.

    ‘Let’s do something.’ Mind-Mikey smiled.

    “There’s literally nothing to do, this prison dimension has nothing.”

    ‘Have you looked around?’

    “Everyday I wake up and have to open my eyes to this place.”

    ‘Yeah but have you looked?’

    Leonardo rolled his eyes, but with the patient stare of Dr. Feelings, he buckled. Leonardo sighed, “alright, hermano, i’ll look.”

    ‘That’s the spirit!’ Mind Mikey leapt out of the mouth and Leo followed.

    Leo didn’t even humor the first ship. It was small in comparison to the others, the size of a small apartment building. He obediently followed the vivid hallucination of Dr. Feelings, not taking in any of his surroundings. They walked through together for maybe an hour, and at the end they hopped out of the front of a broken cockpit.

    The second ship was larger, and with the weirdness of gravity they explored it with everything upside down. Leonardo took more interest, as it was comparatively clean, with more unbroken glass that you could use to look outside. It’s not like Leo took any notes or anything, but he definitely felt less bored after walking through.

    It was at the third ship they were walking through. This one was almost the size of the technodrome, with dark hallways that sucked up the light. Leonardo stepped carefully over the body of a Krang that had long-since fused into the wall in the process of its decay. Something cold touched him and he flinched away. He rubbed his shoulder and came away with… water. Leonardo’s eyes widened. He put the trail of liquid in his mouth, yup, definitely water. Above where he stood was a tiny crack in the ceiling, the water grew, reflecting what little light there was in the room and falling into his hand. He looked to Mind Michelangelo and walked ahead of him, beginning to jog. He passed through corridors and jumped over gaps where the floor was missing.

    And then there was a door.

    As far as he had seen, Krang ships didn’t have doors besides the immediate entrance. He put his hand to the lumpy surface. It was ice cold. There wasn’t a switch, or a door knob, but next to the door on the wall was a panel, full of decaying, slimy masses.

    “Any ideas on how to get it open?” Leo looked to Dr. Feelings.

‘Perhaps you just need to… hm,’ Mind Mikey hummed, ‘I’m afraid that this is out of my skill set.’

    “Mind Mikey, can you maybe get Mind Donnie, please?”

    A purple clad hand physically shoved Mind Mikey out of the way and an illusory vision of Donnie came into the view with a bright smile. ‘I was wondering when you would call upon my intellectual talents!’

    “Yeah, so this panel has got some weird gooey stuff and I want to get inside past this door.”

    Mind Donnie hummed as he scanned the door. ‘Well, ignoring the fact that Krang vessels don’t usually have doors and that definitely possibly  means that whatever is inside was sealed away for the safety of a mutated monstrosity crew designed to be extremely physically resilient: put your hand in the panel.’

    “What?!”

    ‘Don’t worry, I've done this before!’     “Yeah, but I didn’t exactly get details on how you did that!”

    ‘Oh, pish-posh I need to get a feel for it.’

    “You mean I need to get a feel for it,” Leo mumbled but he obediently put his hand to the panel. His hand broke through the cold and slimy surface and he felt a bundle of thick slimy tube-like organs. He shivered from the feeling but pushed deeper, feeling around for anything that might indicate a switch or a pulley. Leonardo came into something a bit harder than the rest of whatever he had his hand in. It was more metallic in texture, and had less of a give to it than the rest of the mass he had his hand in.

    ‘Hm~ interesting.’ Mind Donnie hummed, narrowing his eyes in concentration. ‘You feel that thing under your fingers?’

    “Yeah,” Leo choked out.

    ‘Rip it out.’

    Leonardo gripped it and pulled. It came out and snapped immediately.

    The door flung open and a cold temperature washed over Leonardo. 

    The room was huge. The ceiling reached five stories up, with large, claw-like gashes cut through the ceiling bleeding starlight into the room. Leonardo stood on a crumbling platform that sloped downwards to the left but dropped straight off in front of him. Hanging from the ceiling by meaty gray wires was a large Krang organ covered in white ice. Below it was a pool of water, and something glowed at the bottom.

    ‘This must be the ship's reactor!’ Mind Donnie was giddy with excitement. ‘It must have an endothermic decay property to it, causing the crystallization of water in the atmosphere and allowing it to naturally form ice!’

    Leonardo immediately unclipped his belt and dived into the water before Mind Donnie could protest. Cold — Freezing cold water flooded his senses and he squeezed his eyes shut. For a few seconds his skin  burned with how cold it felt. He blew out a jet of bubbles that coated his face and he slowly opened his eyes. The water was so pure it was like he was floating in the air. The pool was so much deeper than he had first thought, maybe… the depth of the original turtle's lair. Before shredder. There were the remnants of a tall platform in the water, starting at the top in a thin disk right beneath the reactor, with poles attached to it reaching all the way to the bottom, with two other disk platforms of the same size evenly spaced between the first platform and the floor. At the bottom of the pool, floating gently, were clusters of… something reaching up past the second platform. Cautiously, he swam closer. They were arctic blue collections of tiny cells, held together by a jelly-like membrane — similar to frog eggs. Leonardo poked it and it bounced away. He gripped it and ripped away a big chunk. Was this… edible?

    ‘Maybe don’t eat that-’

    ‘Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!’ Mind-Raph jumps into the picture, shoving Mind Donnie to the side

    Leonardo immediately bit into it. It was soft, breaking between his teeth like a soft gummy. He groaned, this tasted so much better than the mushrooms. It was sweet, like licorice, with something pleasantly spicy like ginger underneath. Under the water Leo grabbed handfuls, greedily eating fist fulls of the stuff, only bothering to chew once between each swallow.

    ‘Oh-me-gosh stop you don’t even know what it is!’ Mind Donnie pushed back into the picture, yelling as he fought Mind-Raph for a voice in his head.

    Leo only muttered in protest under the water, swallowing an oversized bite down his throat. He felt the need for oxygen and he swam up, sucking in a large lung full of air. He floated on his back, staring up at the cracks in the ceiling, finally feeling full — in a good way for a change.

Leonardo covered his mouth as he burped. “What do you think it is?”

‘Probably something you shouldn’t have eaten six handfuls of.’ Mind Donnie glared at him, but after a moment, they sighed, ‘maybe it's some alien algae? This is strictly a hypothesis, but the microbes could have been picked up in another planet's atmosphere and then once there was a suitable place to grow, aka light and water — did so.’

    Leonardo turned in the water, still on his back and kicked, allowing himself to slowly float under the Krang organ. If it wasn’t a literal giant intestine Leo might have called it beautiful, if still only in a morbid way. The crystals were almost transparent, softly reflecting the bleeding light from the ceiling across his face and body. As he floated under it he felt a thin stream of water dripping onto his shoulder and down his body as he floated away.

    ‘I guess the moisture in the air freezes when it comes into contact with it, and then melts from the natural temperature of the space.’ Comedically, Leo had now imagined Mind Donnie to be the size of his hand, sitting with his knees to his chest on Leo’s stomach.

 “Yup.”

  ‘You know we’re coming for you, right?’

  Leo didn’t answer.

‘I bet that I’m — well, the real me is working on a portal as we speak. We’ve been to prison dimensions before, like, with the shredder, and we have Draxum and the key, so it can’t be that hard.’

They would never be dumb enough to open up the portal again, no matter how much it hurt. The thought made his heart ache, and he tried his best to not think, but Mind-Donnie kept talking.

    ‘Raph is probably the leader again, and he’s training really hard to be strong enough. And Mikey’s probably… well, I don’t know what he’d be doing but he’s definitely doing it.’

    “He’s probably beat my pizza box stacking record.” Leonardo lightly laughed. “What’s April doing?” She was probably back at school by now. Being awesome and continuing her pursuit in journalism like she always wanted, even when they were kids.

    ‘Do you remember that class she was excited to take?’

    “Digital Photographic Imaging.”

    ‘I bet she passed that, she knows me and I am a - as the kids say - whiz at anything digital.’

    “Has it been that long?”

    ‘Leo, it's been months.’

    “You don’t know that,” Leonardo whispers.

    Mind Donnie didn’t say anything else. Perhaps this was his way of not arguing with him, or at least not arguing with himself.

    There are too many days where Leo thinks too much, and the illusory avatars of his brothers are a symptom of it. He doesn’t mind too much when the visions show up though, it makes this more bearable. The cracks in the ceiling let him stare into the dark void, and for a moment he allows himself to imagine that there are constellations for him to marvel at. Leonardo closes his eyes, allowing himself to draw a mental blank, to not think of anything anymore. He didn’t want to keep thinking.

    “You need to get out of the water.” Mind Donnie broke the silence.

    Leonardo ignored him.

    “Leo, the water’s too cold, you need to get out.”

    “Just another minute.” He didn’t want to get out of the water, this was the best thing he had felt in, according to Mind Donnie, months. After so long his skin didn’t feel dirty, and he finally had something in him that didn’t taste like an oil spill. 

    “Get out of the water Leo.” Mind Donnie’s voice began to rise.

    “I don’t want to.” Leonardo rolled over, submerging his face to let the cold feeling wash over his front. 

    “Please.” Donatello whispered, fully in his head.

    Leonardo opened his eyes again to stare at the bottom of the pool. He opened his mouth and let the water in, taking a few swallows. He breathed out.

He didn’t expect to stagger with his first step out. He fell to the ground on his face, feeling even colder than he did in the water.

    ‘Your experiencing early symptoms of hypothermia,’ Mind-Donnie said flatly.

    “You don’t say.” Leo laughed dryly.

    ‘Get your body moving, there isn’t another heat source so you’ll have to rely on yourself.’

    Groaning, Leo mutters out “yeah, I know.” Leonardo shakes his upper body, waking himself up a little before staggering into a standing position.

    He was only in the water for about twenty minutes and he was already so cold. It wasn’t going to get any warmer here, so if he was going to come back and swim some more — which he most definitely was — he would have to cut the time down significantly.    He had water. Finally he had water. And food that didn’t taste like poisoned chalk. It felt small, but it was something that he was finally looking forward to.

Note: Thank you Rott on Discord for beta-reading

#Stranded au #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #fanfic #fanfiction #leo #leonardo #donatello #donnie #mikey #raph #all the mind versions though #hypothermia #well #risk of hypothermia #Krang #only mentioned #mushroom #bad food #writing #my writing #tmnt #raphael #Not the best ending but i'm still working on it

[soullikethesea]

Spent most of the day huddled up in bed. My soft blanket and leopard plushie are what's holding me together right now. Stumbled upon something that is apparently a big trigger, in therapy today...

Major TW for denial, abuse, emotional abuse

I don't remember it completely, but I think I was gathering some courage to talk about Bf.

I somehow touched upon the subject of trying to explain what happened, trying to fathom what was okay/what wasn't. (Mostly about my parents).

Then quite quickly I shut down. I heard a voice inside stuck in a flashback. It went something like: "You don't know what it's like. I can't say it any more than this. Please help me. Please help me. Please help me. But no one will come. No one is going to come. No one can help me."

Eventually T asked me if I needed a distraction and I said yes. So we talked about cooking. And then she asked what happened and said that maybe we can keep the image in a frame. I said there wasn't really an image. Then she explained about looking at feelings from a distance and only looking at a small bit of them.

I tried for a tiny moment and then I physically flinched and tried to move away. T said maybe it wasn't something for today and then I couldn't help but start crying. I looked for her during some of it, which has never happened before. It was a bit of attachment cry. A bit of the "Help me" inside. Because at that point my feelings were going through me with full body waves.

T said that Bf must have really hurt me. But it wasn't about him. This was about asking for help and somehow never finding a way that was understandable to people and bearable for me at the same time. This was about feeling *so* confused and insecure, about feeling like I am the problem.

Afterwards I showed her the text exchange with Bf and told her of the underlying messages and I think she responded in helpful ways. But I still feel the emotional flashback right now.

The big, punitive doubt. The hypervigilant mess of emotions. The thoughts about how I can't be trusted, how my interpretation is what is the problem, how I just never have been able to be okay and how that is my fault. The rotten apple of the family. I have a lot of urges to hurt myself and I want to go swimming and hide deep under water. When I was around 12, I would specifically take walks in the rain so that I wouldn't have to worry about people noticing that I was crying.

I have such a deep belief that I am unacceptable.

And Bf was the one who told me otherwise in a thousand ways. When I met him I was convinced that I was bad, weak and worthless. And he got me through that until adulthood.

So his betrayal tastes like poison. Like I ruin my life and add pain all around me, like I draw that from interactions. Nothing was really that bad, I made it out to be. I invented it. I am the biggest liar out there - the one who believes they are telling the truth.

Obviously I am trying to get un-triggered now. I took a med. I really like the leopard. I am trying to think about how it's nobody's fault.

[lake-archive]

First Kiss

Disclaimer! While I wrote this and many other Izumi/OC oneshots to be able to be understood in a vacuum, I recommend reading Alte Liebe Rostet Nicht for further context!

Fandom: Ensemble Stars

Characters: Izumi Sena, Original Character

Pairing: Izumi Sena/Original Character (Izuann)

Words: 2,502

Summary: A first kiss is said to be a special moment for a couple. However, it requires special timing, doesn't it? Then again, the desire for a kiss always builds up eventually, doesn't it?

Ann had been completely caught off guard that day. They had not expected such a question out of literal nowhere and the thought of it made them squirm in place for quite a while. It had never crossed their mind to be honest. Or rather, they had noticed how much of a burning desire it had been until fairly recently. And it made them unable to concentrate for the rest of the day. They were sitting in their seat all the time during work, hardly able to properly concentrate. Ever since that conversation with Arashi during lunch break…

“So, how has it been going with you and Izumi–Chan?” She had asked, ever so curiously yet with her usual smile. She was eager to know, especially recently, and while it might put some people off perhaps, Ann was not too shy to tell the woman about it. She might have useful advice honestly, just as she did a few times before when they were in a pickle regarding Izumi. Sure, he was more than bearable now for them, especially recently, but sometimes it could become a bit too much and they had no clue how to react to him sometimes. Arashi always knew what to say however and it helped out immensely. The two must have known each other for a very long time… Then again, the two were also in the same unit, so it should not really come to a surprise. That or it was just Arashi’s presence bringing Ann to a much needed relief.

“Ah, good.” They responded to the question earlier, not expecting much else. They spotted the young woman nodding, the smile ever so brightly. And they expected it to be nearly the end of it while sipping on the water they had brought along… However, they spit however much was in their mouth shortly after when she asked the following out of nowhere: “So, if it’s not too much to ask… Did you two kiss yet~?”

It left Ann in a frozen shocked state, then looking up at her with wide eyes and a beet red face. Or at least they assumed this was the case since they felt their head clearly heating up, feeling way warmer from one moment to the next. “K… Kikikiki…. Kiss!?” They repeated, stuttering it out of their own mouth even as they were just staring at the smiling Arashi. She just had to bring it up so bluntly, no shame whatsoever. Though her face changed for a moment, as if questioning it for a moment before then guessing: “That’s a no.”

They nodded. “Y.. Yeah! No! Why—”

“Haha, I thought I would just ask. You two are so close, I assumed you had already taken that step.”

“Erm… N… No…” They responded, trying to calm down. “A kiss… Big deal… Especially a first…”

“My, not because you are shy or anything?” Arashi asked, the smile back on her face.

“N… No! It’s… That… Erm…”

“Haha, relax Ann–Chan. I was just curious, promise.” She tried to reassure the other finally. “You cling on Izumi–Chan quite a bit. So I thought you had taken the initiative already.”

“C… Cling!? No! I—”

“Aww, you really think no one is looking~? Sure, you hold back when there are those around who have no idea. But when it’s just us and you think no one is watching… Oh my, it’s adorable to just watch you two. I’ve never seen him so embarrassed either. And yet, he enjoys it, despite claiming otherwise.”

Hearing Arashi point it out didn’t make it any better for Ann. In fact, the more they heard the more they wanted to sink into their chair and become on with it. It was that embarrassing. 

Though even once this conversation was over due to work related reasons, the imagery of a kiss had never left their mind ever since.

Sharing a kiss with Izumi for the first time… Would he even agree to it? What if he turned them down? 

‘Hah? Seriously, a kiss? You have to wait for those things. Ugh, don’t just suggest weird things out of nowhere.’ 

Or something like that. It would be an indicator that it might have been a little too early to ask. But the thought was driving them crazy, to say the least. The image was in their head, a little too vividly. Him getting closer to them with his lips before the pair could touch another’s… It was always so close in their head yet it was enough to drive them wild. A tension they never thought they had to begin with… But here it was and it was not leaving their mind for some time. Honestly, they could just bash their head in at the thought alone. They wanted to squirm on the spot, curl themselves up into a ball and roll back and forth on the ground while their hands would block their beet red face. An idiotic thought but that was how they felt. They had a hard time keeping themself together here! Why did Arashi have to bring this up!? They were living a peaceful life until then, enjoying the pure bliss of ignorance on that matter! But no, it turns out that they might want a kiss very badly or something! Maybe that was either the last straw or the trigger! Or perhaps they had been dreaming about it before but didn’t remember. They barely recalled any of their dreams after all. So who knows, that desire might have been there for a very long time!

Hah, no use now… But still, they felt like they had to forget about it. Work should take priority at this moment. When at home they might just roll around the floor for a while, maybe grab the pillow while at it and prac—

“Ann! Are you even listening to me!?” A familiar voice would throw them out of their thoughts, their daydream. It was then where they had noticed that they were facing the keyboard, staring at it with their head in their hands, elbows leaning against the table top. Had they seriously not type anything nor touched any of their dictionaries on the desk!? Ugh, they were really out of it today, weren’t they?

Regardless, when the voice had registered in their brain they lifted their head up in one swoop… And it only made them more nervous on the spot. Of all times, he just had to show up… Izumi, of course. What was their luck today? It was horrid! Even worse once they noticed him to be very up close, his expression annoyed yet it only made them blush all the same. Solely because he just was so close, so very close, right within lips range. Actually, the two were somewhat face to face, him having leaned forward to get a good look at them it seemed. Thus their eyes couldn’t help but wander down to his lips, spotting them right then and there which made them nearly gulp, their very own lips quivering. ‘Ah god, this is too much on my brain! Make it stop! Get away now before I completely lose it!’ Or so it had been shooting through their mind all of a sudden. Their head was at the brink of spinning and it was so extremely difficult to keep a straight face. ‘Ah yeesh! Izumi, you idiot! I still hate you sometimes!’

“Y… Yes!?” They would force out of their mouth however, their voice going slightly high pitched due to the sudden nervousness overcoming them. It seemed to only get a rather annoyed sigh out of him however. 

“What’s gotten into you today? Seriously…” He asked. “It’s not like you to be this distracted. Did you even notice your door opening!?”

“Ah— Uhm… N… No…” They admitted, completely ashamed. “Sorry…”

“You know… If you don’t feel well you should just head home. You don’t just hold the others back but also yourself. Would you rather lay in bed sick for a day or for an entire week?”

“H… Hey! I’m fine!” They insisted and that was the truth. They were more than fine health wise so no need for that much concern to begin with. Yet it doesn’t seem like he was believing them, not really at least, judging from his sudden glare.

“Right… Totally fine. Of course…”

“Seriously! All good!” Yet while talking he was not backing off and it was driving them crazy. He was so close… God, they just wanted to grab him by the collar and shove his face so close to their own and leave a kiss on his lips right then and there. But no, they had to hold themselves back here. That would be taking things too far now! It was very tempting though.

Izumi only rolled his eyes at their insistence, as if not sure what to believe and perhaps how annoying said insistence was. Though it only was a short glimpse they took off it as it went back to his lips and— Wait, did his lips always look so soft? He was saying something but they were no longer paying attention to that to be honest. Instead they were just staring down at his lips, eyeing them as they were moving. Whatever he was saying, they blacked it out from their ears. He may as well have talked gibberish, something A*im*l C*oss*ng like for example. They weren’t really listening to begin with, unable to focus. Not to mention that they had noticed their heart rate increasing, pounding like crazy and their face flushing. 

And thus, after forgetting everything and as if in a trance they noticed their eyes closing all of a sudden. They couldn’t hold back, not properly at least. Their body was moving on their own by then, lips puckering up ever so slightly as they got closer and closer to his face. At least that’s what it felt like. There it was, it had overtaken them completely! This was somewhat unlike them!

However, before being able to get any action out of it their boyfriend would suddenly scream loudly, though more due to the sudden shock than being angry, getting Ann back to reality. “Wha— What are you doing!?”

It made them open their eyes all of a sudden, then noticing how close they had gotten in a short amount of time. Their own lips were only small inches away from his which made them flinch and squeal all of a sudden before backing away, swearing that steam was rising from the top of their head.

“Wha— Ah— I— Sorry! I just— Suddenly and— I mean— Uhm— Explaining! So earlier today… Kinda uhm… Was brought up and… Then… Then then then… I think… Uhm… That… I… Just… Ugh, dunno just… Not meaning to! If so asking and… Ah yeesh! Sorry for being weird I—”

Ann was just smashing word after word together, not even sure what point they were even trying to get across here. They were trying to justify where their sudden move came from yet it might make them look weirder than initially planned. Talk about messing up now… That would be another earful now, wouldn’t it? Ah yeesh, they knew how to mess up the simplest things, didn’t they!? 

‘Idiot! I’m a big idiot! Idiot idiot idiot!’

But just as that had shot through their mind and they were suddenly interrupted, their non stop stuttering cut off from one moment to the next. Silence kicked in all of a sudden, none of the two had been saying a word. Then again, how could they out of nowhere?

One of Ann’s arms had been grabbed and suddenly pulled closer, almost across the table. That had caught them off guard yet they had been noticing that a little too late. Because once they did they were in the middle of being pulled closer the next thing they knew was their lips being suddenly smushed right against another pair. But not anyone else’s, it was Izumi’s. Then again, of course it was. 

Ann’s heartbeat increased even further for a split second before calming down, their cheeks flushing red as they were completely caught off guard by this sudden move. Their body went from stiff to relaxed and their wide eyes closed slowly. For a moment they were still flustered of course, but oddly calm all the same. They were just taking in the feeling of his lips, being even softer than they had initially assumed. Sure, the position might not have been the most ideal but it didn’t really matter at the end of the day. All that mattered at that moment was the kiss, sudden yet pleasant all the same. They were enjoying it, to say the least and didn’t want to let go. However, they would break apart eventually, each of them catching their breath and opening their eyes.

It was there where Ann had a good look on Izumi’s face, all red and his face beyond flustered. His cheeks had lit up and his face wasn’t even sure what expression to make – Slight annoyance? Or being honest and showing that he kind of liked it? Maybe flustered as well. It was hard to tell, it was somewhat of a mixture of each, all accompanied by his own breathing. “Th… There. Happy?” Was all he could muster to say at first, acting as if trying to hide a grin now. Though then he added: “All you had to do is ask you know. Ugh… You can still be annoying sometimes.”

A first kiss… No, the first kiss between them. Sudden and a little sloppy and yet they enjoyed it. They really did. They were beyond words to be completely honest, not sure how to even respond. So… He would not have denied them in any way? Nor would he have said no to their advances? Maybe they had just been worrying too much in the end. Yeah, it wouldn’t be uncommon for them to worry at the end of the day. After all, he had kissed them without hesitation just now, snatching their very first kiss. And it was a kiss they both shared so they couldn’t be happier. Even if they were staring in disbelief for a little while longer.

However, once reality finally kicked in Ann was suddenly grinning like crazy, smiling a little too widely perhaps. Not even given a direct answer they suddenly grabbed Izumi by the collar of his sweater with both of their hands.

“What the— Ann!? What are you—!?”

Yet before he could even finish that they were cutting him off this time with a kiss, simply because they felt like it. All because they just wanted to taste him again. And again. And yet again. Needless to say, the two were stuck kissing in that office for a good while instead of discussing work… Not even caring if someone had come over and decided to watch them or not.

#Nimue's Lake #ok to reblog #ok to rb #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #ensemble stars #enstars #ensemble stars fanfiction #ensemble stars fanfic #ensemble stars fic #enstars fanfiction #enstars fanfic #enstars fic #self ship fanfiction #self ship fanfic #self ship fic #selfship fanfiction #selfship fanfic #selfship fic #izumi sena #sena izumi #enstars izumi #oc x canon #canon x oc #oneshot #one shot #fluff #izuann #selfship community

[spider-self]

@ripdenbrough liked this for a starter

Once upon a time, a great turtle vomited up the universe and thus humanity was born. None of them would probably accept this if they knew. How demoralising to learn that all you were was tiny flecks of puke. That your entire species existence was nothing more than the result of a bellyache. Bill probably would have written it differently, found some way to pretty up a disgusting truth. Making something noble out of it. As if there was anything redemptive to be found in waste. Under different circumstances perhaps he might have romanticised IT. A monster defeated by the power of belief and friendship, a brother saved, the world restored to its true and natural order.

But it was the nature of things to suffer and die. And yes, even those things that were beloved and treasured could easily be snatched away. No one was exceptional. IT hadn’t specifically hunted for Georgie and took him out of spite. It was the wrong place and the wrong time, a perfectly opportunistic hunt IT had been grateful for at the time. So soon after waking from IT’s rest, IT had struggled to hold onto IT’s disguise long enough to lure the boy close. If Georgie hadn’t been so young or so trusting it might not have worked.

Perhaps in that way IT and the writer were similar. They both told lies. They both hid behind illusions and spun wild and awful fantasies into existence. Which was the more honest? A monster that changed to suit each individual? Or a writer who swore all monsters could be defeated? The Losers had come home to kill their monster, but IT would bring them all screaming into the deadlights. The writer last, just so he could watch and see exactly what he had wrought all those years ago.

He thought he could hurt IT? No.. No IT make him beg for death.

Soon but not yet, IT was tailing him for now, as IT was tailing all the Losers in small ways. Nothing in Derry could be hidden from IT. Not much had changed since the first early days of settlement. Refreshing IT’s knowledge of the town had become less of a need and more of a habit over the years. They were collecting their talismans, personal objects of belief, things they meant to use to bind IT in a small vessel. As if the majesty of IT’s true self could be contained by such a pathetic little thing.

It was amusing to watch them scramble, to fall afoul of the little torments IT had arranged for them. The main event would be even more spectacular, but first… IT wanted to fuck with them just a little more. After all.. They assumed the only forms IT could take were fantastical. And why would they suspect otherwise? IT wasn’t as if IT made a habit of lingering in such a limiting space. But needs must. Once they discovered that nowhere was safe. Perhaps they’d think twice about walking back into Neibolt House.

IT’d thought the last place Bill would have thought to investigate was a circus of all places.. But perhaps the notion of IT appearing in such a place felt too absurd even for a writer. It would have been too much of a cliche to be killed here, surrounded by clowns and children and the kind of rides that made grown men scream. He probably thought he was safe here and in some respects he was right. But Bill was wrong too and he was about to find that out.

The cotton candy IT was eating stuck to IT’s fangs, the texture of the confectionary reminding IT of IT’s webs.. But that was fine, it was bearable for now and IT focused on the candy, following Bill’s scent until IT was able to cut in front of him and collide, the sugary treat smearing over Bill’s shirt.

“God, I’m so sorry..”

#ripdenbrough #{verse} welcome to derry #Hiya! I hope this is okay~ #don’t feel compelled to match the length #I tend to ramble a little xD