#francis loves someone else too

[notmyneighbor]

Let Me In ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader

Chapter 6

Word Count ~ 3.9k

Rating ~ Explicit

CW ~ sexual content

Also available on AO3

taglist @luthien-elvenia-asher @fishfetus @gaudesstuff @nekee-lilac02

Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok

Early morning. Almost time for Francis’ delivery route to begin.

“Good morning.” You look at the doppelgänger. His face is pressed into the living room pillow he’d borrowed from the couch, offering you the solitary one on the bed. A sleepy smile of greeting.

“Good morning, love.” His hand cups your cheek and you trap his fingers, turning your face to kiss the inside of his wrist. “I’m glad you stayed last night.”

“Me too.” Its earlier than you’d normally rise, but you kind of like it. That sense that the rest of the world is slumbering and the two of you have this time reserved just for you.

“Tell me to go get ready. I don’t want to leave this bed.”

“Go get ready. I’ll press your clothes for you while you take a shower. Get coffee going.”

“M’kay.” He sighs, sitting upright. Stretching his arms, his legs hanging over the side of the bed. A dog barks outside and someone hisses for it to be quiet. The replicant freezes, his arms dropping down sharply.

“Francis? What is it?”

“It’s not a dog.” He stands and goes to the window, edging the curtain back. “I don’t recognize them. Not from my squadron.”

“A doppel?”

“Yes.”

You sit up, the languid, cozy feeling evaporating instantly. Bringing you right back to reality. “Does the owner know?”

“No. They’re human.”

“Are they trying to come in?”

“No. But they sense something. That’s why they barked. They’re already halfway down the street. You’re safe.” He lets the curtain drop back into place.

“Didn’t you say no doppels would try to enter the building anymore?”

“Yes.”

You worry your lower lip. “That’s going to look suspicious to the DDD.”

“The DDD.” He says the name of the organization contemptuously. “I wish you’d leave.”

“It’s not just a job. It’s my career. I can’t leave.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want to help people. I promised I would.”

“You could do something else and still help people,” he mumbles. “Fine. If it’s going to draw more unwanted attention here, I can make certain some doppels do come in when you’re working.”

So much for the relieved idea that you and the residents would finally be safe and secure. “You can do that?”

“Of course.”

“And not let them harm anyone?”

“That is more than I can promise.”

So you’d still be putting the residents at risk. Encouraging it, even. You’d have to make absolutely certain never to let one inside.

“You’d be condemning your own kind. I’d have to call the cleaners if they threatened violence.”

“I’m aware. I have to keep you safe. If that means risking some other doppels, so be it.”

You leave the bed, walking over to the closet. Francis didn’t have many clothes aside from his work attire. He’d had few personal possessions in general from what you’ve seen so far in the apartment. Living so humbly.

The imposter rests a hand on your spine on the way past you to the bathroom, pausing to kiss your cheek. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yes.” You select a shirt and pair of pants, folding the items still on the hangers over your arm. “I’ll be fine. Go get ready.”

The sound of the shower starting fills the background as you collect the folded ironing board from inside the closet and plug in the iron. You pad barefoot into the kitchen to get the coffee pot on, wearing one of Francis’ undershirts and your panties. You’re a little sore from the previous evening’s events. Internally. The times he had pounded into you deeply. The new bite on your shoulder. The swelling and redness seem to have dissipated. The mirror above the dresser doesn’t reveal anything too drastic looking. The puncture marks are almost invisible.

You’ve got the milkman’s pants ready when he emerges naked from the other room, still slightly damp from the shower. The brazenness still makes you blush. You know what he looks like nude by now, of course, but it feels different when it isn’t during intimacy. You watch the imitator rummaging through the dresser drawers to retrieve underwear and socks and a bow tie, secretly admiring the way his muscles shift in the warm yellow glow of the lamp, the curtains still shielding the window. You can smell the coffee brewing in the other room, easily pervading the entirety of the tiny apartment, and you inhale that enticing aroma deeply.

“So you mentioned earlier you’re in a squadron. Like a military sort?”

“Not precisely as you know it, but I suppose there are a few vague similarities.”

“What rank are you?”

“The equivalent of a lieutenant colonel, if you had to label it.”

You inch the work shirt further over the side of the ironing board to continue the pressing, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Where is the rest of your squadron?”

He shrugs. “Around,” he replies vaguely. You think he knows exactly where they are and he’s not willing to give them up. Still somewhat loyal, in spite of what’s happened between you.

“They don’t wonder where you are? Or vice versa? You don’t have some kind of a leader you have to report to?”

He pauses midway through pulling on a sock. “It doesn’t quite work like that. We are…autonomous, I suppose you would say. Working independently, but striving for the same goal.”

You hand him the shirt and he slides it over his shoulders after finishing with the socks. “So why have ranks at all then, if you’re all equals?”

“Because we’re not. Not everyone can do what I did. It’s still rare. There’s no way to instruct how to do it. It just…happens. Or doesn’t.” He finishes buttoning the front of his shirt. You help him with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Why did you choose Francis?”

“Opportunity. Nothing more. Sheer random encounter.” You step back as he pulls each pants leg on and stands, zipping and buttoning the fly. The belt is coiled on the dresser beside the black tie. “The best decision of my existence,” he says softly, his forehead bending to touch yours.

You’re so conflicted. He’d killed the man you’d loved. But in some ways was still the man you loved. Only not. An enemy you’re supposed to be guarding against, except he no longer seems to bear any malice towards your kind. Coexisting peacefully. But the cost of that. Oh, the cost.

“I can’t say I’m grateful for what you did. But I am glad it was you, and not someone else.”

His hand cradles your head and he draws you against him. You can smell soap and shampoo. Aftershave. Your arms tighten around him.

“What did happen? During that random encounter?” You ask against his chest.

“Why do you want to know the details? It won’t change anything.”

You draw back to see his face. “Consider it a weakness of humans. There is a car accident on the interstate. The vehicles wrecked, the passengers gravely injured. We slow down or stop to look, even after emergency services have been called, even though there is nothing left to be done. We can’t look away. We have to face it. Confront our fears head on. Grieve our losses. Knowing the truth of what happened is the only way to do that.”

“If I tell you, you’re admitting he’s gone.”

You chew your lower lip, hesitating. “I suppose that would be true.”

“If that happens, you won’t have any reason to be with me anymore.” He strokes a thumb over one cheek. “Is that really what you want?”

“I…no.” Your heart is beating madly in your chest. It would be like losing Francis twice, somehow. You can’t fathom it. “I’m sorry, you’re right. It’s best I don’t know. I won’t mention it again.”

After a time the replicant finishes dressing. The black bow knotted neatly. Belt secured. Wallet tucked into his pocket, followed by his keys. You’ve hastily gotten dressed in yesterday’s clothing. You’ll return home and get properly washed and changed before returning for your shift afterwards.

The imposter pours you both a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. Strong. The way you both like it. A little cream and sugar to kill some of the bitterness stirred in.

You’re standing by the front door now. The doppelgänger holds the milkman’s cap in his hands. He doesn’t like wearing it. You can tell. You pull it from his fingers and set it on his head. Tugging the brim down a little. Smoothing some of his hair back underneath. He really did need a trim soon. You’d never seen it get this long.

“Be safe today,” he says.

“You too.”

“Do you think I could get away with coming over tonight? Is your organization going to stalk me?”

“I’m hoping they’ll calm down after a bit. They are still watching you. Me. Us. So maybe wait a couple of days, make it not so obvious.”

“I don’t think I can manage a couple of days.”

“You’ll still see me in the booth.”

“That’s not the same.”

“I know, Francis. If circumstances were different…I’m trying keep you safe.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Alright. A couple of days, then. Surely the weekend as well?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

He smiles. “Things looking up already. Alright, sweetheart.” He bends to kiss your mouth. “I’ll see you later.”

You exit the apartment and he locks the door. Still no one else stirring in the building yet. He ignores the elevator and begins descending the staircase. You follow him. He’s faster than you, his longer limbs making short work of the steps. Already nearly an entire flight down from you.

He pauses on the landing, looking back at you as you halt, fingers curled over the railing.

“Francis.” You rush down the stairs, throwing yourself at him when you reach the bottom, the momentum pushing him back against the wall. Planting kisses along the freshly shaved cheeks and jaw. “I miss you already.”

“Me too, love.” His arms envelop you and you bury your face against his shirt. Suddenly you find yourself wanting to cling to him desperately. So afraid for him. More than you were even for yourself.

It’s a relief when you see him return safely later that day; it’s all you can do not to open the booth and fling yourself back into his arms. But the camera mounted on the wall over your shoulder is a constant reminder. You’re being watched.

You’re not safe at all.

***

Saturday morning finds you standing in what was once an impressive garden beside your house. Now chock full of wildflowers and overgrown with weeds. Francis’ copy is beside you, kneeling down, his fingers raking the earth, pushing impatiently at the intruding vegetation. “The soil is still good. You could plant here again easily.”

“My grandfather would have been happy to see that. It just got to be too much for him to maintain. He had a hard time finding help for the farm. People lured into moving to the city. Better paying jobs. Fancier homes. A variety of exciting new stores to shop in. My parents both had that itch.”

“You’re somewhere in the middle.” He stands, dusting his hands off.

You nod. “I guess I am. I can appreciate the value of being in the city. The benefits. But I recognize the drawbacks, too. I love being here. It always feels right. I wish I could restore things to the way they were.”

“Maybe you could. Not to the extreme of running a business with employees, but to build it back up, little by little.”

“It would be a full time process.”

“You could do it. We could do it,” he adds softly.

“Is that really what you’d want?”

“I want you,” he says, his hands now seated on your waist, drawing you closer. He kisses you and you sigh contentedly.

“When I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world goes away. There is no DDD or invasion. It’s just us.”

“It could really be like that.”

“No one ever leaves the DDD voluntarily. And you’d be labeled a deserter, wouldn’t you? We’d be chased. Hunted down. There’s only one punishment for someone who’s a coconspirator.” It didn’t happen often, but occasionally there were stories of humans accepting bribes. Working together with the doppels. It did not end well for the humans making those bargains; did not end well for the invaders, either.

“We’ll keep running so they can’t catch us. To the ends of the earth.” He tugs on your hand and you allow him to, following him. Navigating through the overgrowth, threading through it to find your path. Moving faster and faster, a full jog now. Still anchored to the doppelgänger’s hand.

He halts abruptly and you collide with him. Both breathing heavily. He descends and you tumble down with him. You’re in a patch of wildflowers, their perfumed scent heavy in the air.

You lie together like that with your head pillowed on his chest, one arm tucked around you. “Did you ever have anything like this before? Was there someone else?”

“Never.”

You burrow a little deeper, satisfied with the answer. Would you have been jealous if he’d said yes? Strange to think that way. But yes, you would be, you realize. The concept of sharing, the idea of affection for someone other than yourself bothers you.

“Do you think you could ever find yourself caring for me? Not for the face I wear. What’s behind it, I mean. My true self.” Your head lifts, your eyes searching his features. “I want you to love me as much as you love the man. More than that.”

“You said…you don’t even have words for human emotions. They don’t exist for your kind.”

“They don’t. They didn’t. A change now. Evolution. Something unanticipated. That’s what the ache is, isn’t it? How terrible this feeling is. How wonderful. Paradox.” He pulls your face towards his, kissing you. “I need you, sweetheart. More than you’ll ever know.”

You kiss him back. You can’t speak with words. It’s too overwhelming. Too confusing trying to separate the man and the invader. You’d been telling yourself all along it was your feelings for the former that had driven all your actions. That had been true enough in the beginning. But now. Now there were doubts creeping in. Wondering it wasn’t the other that you had feelings for. Could you really love a monster?

“Need to feel you, love, please.” The sound of his belt being undone. Dark slacks today now that he wasn’t working. Your fingers join him there, finding his cock already hard, leaking in anticipation. So hungry, so fast. Your body responding in kind, drooling for him.

You straddle his hips, the hem of your skirt bunched around your waist. Struggling to hold the crotch of your panties aside, to guide him inside of you. Gasping when you succeed. You lower yourself down onto him. The sun is warm on your back. You lift up slightly and sit back down. Impaling yourself again. Your hips roll back and forth as you lean down to kiss him. Rocking, sliding that prick in and out of your pussy. He slips completely free and you hurriedly snake a hand between your bodies, realigning him. The drag against your clit sending sparks through you. You keep the hand there, touching yourself, touching him. Feeling the heightened friction of the panties digging against your hand, against your lover’s dick. The nails of your other hand raking his chest through his shirt.

You kiss him, tasting the salt of the perspiration that has begun. It’s so hot. Outside. Inside of you. His fingers touch your cheek, seed your hair, hold your mouth against his as his hips lift to meet you. Driving him deeper inside. You look down at the man whose face you’d seen behind glass for all those months. Those dark, tired eyes on yours. Lick his mouth back open, enjoying the mash of the hand still between your bodies, grinding against the bundle of nerve endings. His lips at your jaw and throat and beside your ear. “I love you,” he whispers, and you shatter around him, your walls spasming, your body jerking through release.

It’s easy to say the phrase back to him when you’re in the height of bliss, just three simple little words that escape above his face, panted between noises of pleasure.

“Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His hips snap up and you feel the jet of seed inside you. Your forehead drops to his, your arms and legs suddenly shaking. You dismount and drop down beside him, your face burrowing again.

“I meant it,” he says softly. “What I said.”

“I know. So did I.” It’s the truth, you realize. Somehow, the impossible had happened.

You’d fallen in love with a doppelgänger.

***

The weekend flies by.

You are back in the security booth once again the following Monday. Straightening out the desk once more. You really could not understand why your coworkers were so disorganized. You’ve nearly finished the task when you realize through your peripheral vision that someone has entered the apartment building.

Your head lifts to see Izaack Gauss.

Or what looked like him; your instincts kicking in once again. It’s most certainly a doppel.

The face has been perfectly replicated, the second floor resident’s exaggerated features all ones you recognize: the large cleft chin and wide nose, the thick dark eyebrows set above glacier blue eyes, that wide stretch of teeth just a little too large for comfort, becoming almost a rictus grin. One that doesn’t touch the imposter’s eyes.

“Good morning,” he greets you, sliding his ID card and entry request through the stainless steel slot at the bottom of the window.

You look over the identification first. Expiration date checks out, the image and name both correct. Your eyes flick up before you study the other document. On the day’s list. DDD logo present. Occupation of reporter correct. Address verified.

“May I come in? As you can see everything is in order.”

The ID card is still clutched in your hands. You tap it against the desk absently. You know it’s not really him. You just don’t have any evidence to support your suspicion yet.

“Let me just make a quick phone call to your residence.”

You lift the receiver off the hook, dialing the first number.

“I can smell him on you.”

Your hand freezes. “I’m sorry?”

The large nostrils flare and the suited figure inhales deeply. “All over you. Inside of you. He’s been there, hasn’t he? You’ve let him in.” Little burst capillaries spidering across his eyes now. A thin trail of spit glistening on his lower lip. “You could let me inside, too.”

You flip the plastic shielding covering the alarm down and slap the red button, the steel shutters instantly dropping down to cover the glass. Hanging up hurriedly and dialing a new number, the DDD operator answering you in the same calm manor they always adopt, assuring you the cleaners will be on their way shortly.

Time seems to slow to a crawl. You hear the sounds of the disposal team making their way inside. Yelling. Gunfire. Then silence. The alarm stops sounding. The steel shutter retracts. On the other side of the window, you can see a member of the DDD wearing a yellow hazmat suit. “The doppelgänger has been taken care of. You can return to work now.”

You nod, willing your shaking hands to be still.

***

“There was a doppel today.”

The piece of cake you’re chewing tastes like ash. It’s from your favorite bakery, a treat from your replicant beau. Washed down with an ice cold sample of the milk he delivers. You wish you could enjoy it. But your taste buds won’t cooperate. You’re still shaken from what had happened earlier.

“Yes. There were to be several. What’s wrong?”

“He knew about us, Francis.”

He sets his fork down slowly. “Tell me what happened.”

“He looked just like Mr. Gauss. The reporter that lives alone on the second floor. Paperwork checked out. But I could tell something was off right away. And he said he could smell you on me. In me. He knew what we’ve done together.”

You see the copycat milkman’s Adam’s apple move above his shirt collar as he swallows loudly. “And then you called the cleaners?”

“Yes.”

“Did he get a chance to say anything to them?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“And the surveillance cameras?”

“Video feed only, no audio.”

A heavy sigh. “Alright. I’m sorry that happened to you. That was not a member of my squadron, I assure you.”

“You said they wouldn’t come near the building, because of the marks. Other than the ones you sent as decoys to fool the DDD.”

“I didn’t think they would. Honestly, I didn’t. I would never deliberately put you in harm’s way. You know that.” His hand reaches for yours across the tiny kitchen table in the third floor apartment. “Had to just be an anomaly. Had to be,” he repeats, sounding as if he’s trying to reassure himself as well as you.

“What if it’s not?”

He pushes back from the table, kneeling beside you, reaching for one of your hands and pressing his lips to it, holding it against his cheek. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. I swear to you. I love you,” he says, and your heart flutters. The palm of his free hand rests somewhere along your ankle. Sliding up, bringing the hem of your skirt with it. He kisses your knee. The top of the joint. The inside. Stands and pulls you with him. Lifting you and sitting you on the counter, your skirt gathered in messy folds around your hips. His fingers dig into the sides of the underwear clinging to them, dragging them roughly down. He’s impatient, possessive. Scared, you think.

“I want to make a baby with you.”

“Francis…” Your sex throbs at the suggestion. Such a dangerous idea.

“I want them to know you’re mine. Fuck the DDD and fuck the other doppels.” His face moves against your throat, one hand on your hip as he thrusts into you, the other braced on the overhead cabinet behind you.

“I am yours.”

He huffs a moan. “You’re so perfect for me.”

You gasp when he reaches deeper inside of you, clutching the back of his shirt collar, your other hand at his waist, knees digging into his hips as he ruts against you. Your fingers travel to his hair, those cocoa locks that are growing curlier the more they lengthen. You have to cut them for him, or send him to a barber, or…

“Say it. Please, please say it. Do you want me to beg? I’ll do it. Please…”

You know what he wants. What he needs to hear. “I love you.” The wood behind you groans with the tension his hand places on it as he fucks you harder, faster. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” uttered each time he’s sheathed inside you.

Touching his cheek now, watching his mouth fall open, the kind of wonder in those dark eyes, as if he’s discovering you all over again for the first time, coming apart, waiting to be rebuilt. You both shatter and then there is silence save for the ticking of the clock mounted on the kitchen wall and the breaths you trade, a warm exchange of air in the scant space that divides you.

#thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #milkman #francis mosses x reader #francis mosses x you #milkman x reader #milkman x you

[cyn-write]

"You've Bewitched Me"

Prompt - NRC is in upheaval. A video of Yuu singing a song has been circling around the school about her being "bewitched," and everyone is trying to figure out by who. Yuu is embarrassed and upset about her private song being the subject of gossip, so she decides to hide from everyone only for her crush to find her and reveal he has been "bewitched," by her...

Pairings - NRC Students x F!reader

Warnings - Gossip, Incredibly Shy Reader with Stage Fright, Depictions of Anxiety, Not Beta Read

Song - "Bewitched" by Laufey

Prologue (Here) - Heartsyble - Savannaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomefiore - Ignanhyde - Diasmonia

When @/thegreatestmagealive uploaded a video of the Ramshackle Perfect singing a love song, to say NRC nearly blew up would be an understatement.

The song, the poster titled “Bewitched,” became an instant hit across campus, but also became the source of tension as everyone was asking the same question: Who bewitched the Ramshackle Perfect?

“20 Thumbmarks on Leona!”

“15 on Kalim!”

“Kalim? Really, no it has to be Vil!”

“30 DOLLARS ON LORD MALLEUS!”

“EVERYONE HUSH! Now Francis, how much on Vil?” The Halls of NRC were filled with gossip on who the song was about. There were multiple pots floating around of people betting on who it was about, and just as many heated discussions.

“Who says it’s a housewarden? She spends most of her time with the Freshies so it has to be one of them! My money is on the Red Head on the Basketball team, he is always hanging on her!” A Scarabia student chimed in at this corner table of the Cafateria.

“Ace? He’s an ass, no it has to be Spade! Anytime someone makes a comment about he at practice, he gets all defensive.” A Heartstyble student on the track team chimed in.

“That runt? Na, he has nothing on Jack.” The Savannaclaw student across from them chimed in.

“The Wolf? He barely says any words! Besides, the Perfect has more class than that, it has to be Epel!” A Pomefoire Student retorted getting glares from the Savannaclaw student.

“All of you are wrong, I ran the data,” The Ignanhyde student pulled out his tablet and showed them a chart, “Out of all the possibilities crossed referenced with the lyrics of the song, it has to be-“

Debates across the school were happening as people discussed who she was singing for. While some advocated for others, others advocated for themselves.

That night, in the midst of the debates, a poor Grim was looking for a place to stay the night. So he went first to Heartstyble.

Grim walked through the portal and saw *chaos*.

“CAULDRON!”

“DEUCE WHAT THE HELL!”

“Calm down you two! No one is going anywhere till Riddle gets back!”

Trey helped Ace out from under the cauldron while Cater tried to calm down Deuce who was red as roses. “Yuu’s private song was just released and all you can think about it YOURSELF!” Deuce called out to Ace as he attempted to wesal himself out of Cater’s grip.

Ace dusted himself off as Trey helped him up, “Well, it is pretty obvious! Who else could it be about? You Loosey Duece? Or maybe Mr. Magicam? Chef Dad? Or maybe, our esteemed leader? No. It has to be me, so I am going to go check on her-“

Deuce tackled Ace, again, so Trey and Cater had to dive in to separate the two.

It did not take long for grim to realize it might be best to come back later. So he went back through the portal to try Savannaclaw.

But his scruff was grabbed before he could step through.

“Heeeey, Sealie!!” Grim gulped as he knew that voice all too well. Floyd turned Grim around so he was facing the two most terrifying smiles in NRC. “Mind clearing something up for Jade and I? See, he thinks Shrimpy’s song is about him, but I say its bout me. And every guppy is saying a different name, so we wanted to get info from them inside fishie~”

“W-what are you talking about!” Grim said crossing his arms. He knew he was in deeeeep dodo.

“Come now Grim, you must know who she’s singing about?” Jade said with a sonically smile on his face, “Now, as Yuu’s close friends, we just want to know, who bewitched our dear friend?”

“Yeeeaaah Sealie, who?” Floyd sung melodically.

“I-I ain’t saying anything!” Grim kept his mouth shut. He had already made Yuu mad, he didn’t want to make. It any worse.

“Oh come on Sealie! Everyone has a price! What’s yours??-“

“What are you two doing?” Came the harsh voice of Vil, Grim’s savior. The housewarden meeting must have finished. Early as all seven, yes even Malleus, came into the hall of mirrors to witness poor little grim shiver in his fur.

“Heya Beta!” Floyd said and waved Grim around, “We’re just asking Sealie a question! That’s all!”

“I’m guessing it’s about Yuu?” Azul asked as he made his way over to his Eel’s. “How is the Ramshackle Perfect? We missed her at the meeting.”

“Yuu… wellllllllll….” Grim scratched his cheek and the other housewarden’s came over, all wondering the same thing, “She is kinda sorta mad at me. And kinda sorta threw me out for ‘not respecting her privacy’ which I didn’t mean to get her upset, I just wanted to show everyone she had a pretty voice and she got all mad.”

“We’ll if you need a place to stay, Octavinelle is always open to poor souls! And I am sure we can work out a pi-“

“We all know what you want Azul, just ask him now so we can clear this up!” Leona said, clearly annoyed at the Mers underhanded methods. “Whose the song about?”

“I-I don-“

“Why are we even asking this question? It is clearly me!” Vil said shaking his head.

“What makes you so sure Schoenheit?” Malleus asked, “I spend more time with the Child of Man and have more magical prowess, it is defiantly about me. I was just about to grab her the-“

“No way the songs about you Lizard!” Leona retorted, “She clearly-“

“The Song’s about Nii-Chan! I ran the-“ Ortho chimed in with Idia listening in on his screen.

“WILL YOU ALL BE QUIET!” Riddle yelled, somehow getting the attention of the others, “This is disgraceful! You are. All concerned with your own selfish needs when you should be worrying about our fellow housewarden whose privacy has been breached and is probably distraught!”

Kalim nodded and said, “Yeah, we need to go cheer her up! Besides, it was probably just a song about love, nothing else!”

Grim sighed and added, “Oh its about someone, You she hear the other songs she wrote about him-“

“About WHO!” Everyone asked.

“I DON’T KNOW!” Grim said and got the glares of everyone.

Azul sighed and said, “You just said you knew.”

“I said I knew she has a crush and wrote more songs about him. I never said I knew WHO it was.” He crossed his arms and looked at the ground, “And she threw me out before I could ask. I tried going back in but she sounded so… upset. When I asked to come back in and apologized she said she just wanted to be alone…”

The group looked dejected at this. Floyd let Grim go and sighed, “Poor Shrimpy…”

Azul looked at Jade and Floyd, “Let’s go, Lounge won’t run itself.”

As Azul left with his Eels, Leona and Kalim also branched off their dorms, “Jamil is probably wondering where I am.”

“Yeah, I gotta make sure Savannaclaw is still in one piece.”

Vil and Ortho branched off next with Vil grumbling about wrinkles and Ortho talking to Idia.

Riddle and Malleus were the last two left with Grim.

“Grim, your welcome to stay at Heartstyble. It might help keep Ace and Deuce in.” Riddle said then looked to Malleus, “The Perfect probably needs a night, but if you do check on her, please let her know I-… We are here if she needs us.”

“I will Roseheart,” Malleus nodded to his red haired companion as he and Grim walk through the Heartstyble Mirror. Malleus turns and before he can make his way to Ramshackle, Lilia is there. All he has to do is shake his head and Malleus knows what his mentor is trying to say, she needs time alone.

The next morning, the first years go to Ramshackle to walk with Yuu to breakfast as they do every morning, but when they got their, the ghost intervened and said she needs to sleep in. The three ghost refused to let any of them enter and even brought Grim’s stuff to the door.

Yuu did not show to any of her classes or reply to any text, and all of her friends quickly understood why. Yuu’s song was all everyone was talking about, more specifically, who it was about. All the pots from the nights before had tripled and almost every students had a guess on who it was about. Yuu has never felt more embarrassed.

By the time night rolled around again, Yuu had read every text, post, and comment about her song. People were making guesses and demanding she confess who. In the midst of the chaos and rumors, all she could think about was what her crush was thinking. She had liked him as more than a friend for a while now, but had no clue if he returned the sentiment. All the worse possibilities were running through her head.. ‘He probably thinks I’m some obsessed freak, this is so embarrassing, Grim ruined. everything, there is no coming back from this. our friendship is ruined, I can never show my face at school again…” Thoughts like this combined with her stage fright made her mood worse. She wrote songs and sang them to help her work through things, it was incredibly personal for her and she never intended to share any of them, not yet at least. Now she was lying in her bed, curled up in her blankets with her phone lighting up with text next to her. She could not bring herself to talk to anyone, she was too scared and embarrassed to.

The Ghost have been kind enough to fend off Grim (who she was still mad at) and her friends (who she was still too embarrassed to see) so she could have some time alone. They worked as her guards and caretakers, making her eat and get up every now and then. They were also the only ones who knew who her songs were about.

So when he arrived on her doorstep, the ghost decided to let him in.

Yuu was looking at her notebook, pouring over the lyrics again and again when a knock came at her bedroom door.

“Yuu… can I come in?” His voice carried through the door.

Yuu felt her heart stop. She held her notebook tightly and sighed, “I guess its now or never…”

She got up from her bed, notebook in hand, and stood in front of the door. She was shaking and as she stared at the door, terrified of what would happen next, when he cast a spell over her once again:

“Yuu, I… I don’t. know if that song was about me but I want you to know. You’ve bewitched me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: This is the Prolouge to a small series! Be on the look out for each characters part and if you want tagged please let me know! Please Like, Reblog, and Follow for more! If you are interested in seeing more characters in this scenario or these characters in different scenarios, please let me know! (Do not Steal)

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twst fanfic #cynwrites #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #riddle rosehearts #ace trappola #deuce spade #trey clover #cater diamond #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #jack howl #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #idia shroud #ortho shroud #malleus draconia #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland silver #sebek zigvolt

[mymegumi]

03:47 ෆ ITADORI YUUJI

⠀ for: @driaswrld sorry pookie for the emotional dmg (-ω-、)

“yuu,” you grunt, hands flailing out in the darkness as you try to push your lug of a boyfriend away from you, “stars, you need to stop eating so much, you weigh as much as a tractor trailer.”

the response you get is a long snore, followed by the soft smacking of his lips.

normally, you wouldn’t complain about your sweet boy’s body weight or the comforting pressure of his limbs draped over you, but currently, you’re facing a singularly unique experience that no one has ever seen happen before—you need to pee. badly. yuuji has been bulking lately, meaning for dinner you have to make about three servings of food, all for him, and then a fourth serving for yourself (of which he usually finishes off for you if you can’t manage to eat it all).

not to say you dislike watching your boyfriend’s gym experiences, or even that you discourage them, but you’re just annoyed now that he’s gained about 5-10 pounds of muscle mass that you can barely manage to push him off of you.

he’s not a gentle sleeper. in fact, he’s single-handedly the most violent sleeper you’ve ever met and the first time you’d stayed over at his apartment, he scared you awake at least three or five times. now, you’re so used to his sudden spasms and uncontrollable snoring that it hardly phases you, or you can just ignore it and fall asleep again, but the discomfort of needing to pee has taken precedence over anything else.

yuuji is truly lucky you love him more than anything else, right now, because he’s star-fished himself across your queen-sized bed, an arm over your stomach and his legs flung over both of yours while the blanket is tangled between both of your bodies. he is happily snoozing away, blissfully deep in dream world as you continue trying to push him off.

this wouldn’t be an issue, because despite his bulking and the near constant complaint of ‘yuu, you weigh too much for us to wrestle properly because you always win!’, normally, you can at least shove him off enough to scramble out of the tangle of limbs.

tonight is an issue because he’s clingy.

yuuji is a stage-five clinger in his sleep only a third of the time. most of the time you’re free to come and go as you please, but sometimes, on rare occasion, he can psychically know you’re trying to leave the bed and stop you in his sleep. he’ll grab your waist and shove his face in your neck, he’ll snag a wrist and interlace your fingers, and on the one rare time, he’ll somehow hook his foot around your leg and make you fall back onto the bed. it was insane, the lengths he would go to to make you stay in the comfort of your bed—all while miraculously asleep.

so, you’d tried to sneak out of bed to pee and he’d grabbed your hip, forcing you back into bed with the grip of a man desperate to keep you by his side. you’d find it endearing if you weren’t about to pee your pants.

“i love you,” you whisper, turning your head to press your nose into his cheek and trying to burn a hole in his head, “but i’m gonna murder you if you don’t wake up and let me leave.”

“s’love you.” he mutters. he tilts his head towards you and presses a kiss to your nose.

you narrow your eyes. “what’s megumi’s middle name?”

“francis.”

he’s not awake. the poor boy wouldn’t have lied so easily if he was awake, and you are left to flop against the mattress helplessly.

you hate waking him up because he always looks like someone kicked a puppy in front of him and then told the dog it sucked. it just wasn’t nice and he deserved all the nice things in the world. you also hate waking him up because he is somehow such a deep sleeper. you’d have to be screaming your lungs off at an intruder for him to wake up in perfect lucidity.

you’ll have to find another plan to sneaking away from him and going to the bathroom. you wouldn’t give up, but you’d bide your time. eventually he’d have to move away from you and then, that’d be your chance to slip away.

(you end up falling asleep in his embrace and running to the bathroom frantically when the sun rises.)

#itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #jjk itadori #itadori x reader #jujutsu itadori #itadori x you #itadori x y/n #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji x you #itadori yuuji x you #itadori yuuji x y/n #yuji itadori #itadori fluff #jjk itadori yuuji #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #txt!writing

[intheholler]

the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?

#appalachia #appalachian murder ballads #murder ballads #appalachian music #appalachian culture #appalachian history #appalachian #appalachian folklore #appalachian gothic #tw violence against women #cw violence against women #cw murder #tw murder #folk music #folk #txt

[lxkeee]

⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.

��PART FOUR

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Notes: finally, a divorced man meets a divorced woman.

PART ONE | PART THREE | PART FIVE | MISC.

Nothing too interesting happened for the last couple of months, work on earth, do paperwork in heaven, repeat.

Scratch that, something did happen.

[Y/n] looked at her hand, seeing the gold band that was usually on her ring finger was now placed on her middle finger. A symbol of individuality and responsibility. She and Azrael finally got divorced—for shits and giggles. Just kidding. Azrael found love that's why and he and [y/n] it was time to end this marriage of theirs and remain friends. Azrael is now dating this cute principality angel named Francis. She supports them. She even set them up lmao.

They still continue doing their usual routine of spending their free time in each other's places (more on spending time at her home) and gossip.

She has to find her own love someday. [Y/n] sighs softly. Eyes staring outside her office window.

Today is the extermination day. She hopes Adam fucks up during it.

It was rather boring for the rest of the day. She was just flying around heaven and seeing if the order was maintained. [Y/n]'s eyes widened when she saw Emily showing someone around heaven. Someone familiar.

That's right! She saw this snake man during the meeting when Charlie was showing about Angel's progress.

He looks different though.

Her eyes widened, realization dawning upon her.

He got redeemed.

Blinking her eyes, eyes sparkling in excitement.

She calms herself down first, she needs to confirm it.

Flying next to Emily, the girl slightly jumps in surprise to see [y/n]. Despite the woman being one of god's seven virtues, Emily sees her as an older sister figure.

“Hi [y/n]! Nice to see you here, it has been awhile since I've last seen you!” Emily says excitedly, eyes sparkling and wings flapping from excitement from seeing the older woman. The man beside her just looked in confusion.

“Hello Emi, dear. I just so happen to have some free time so I was just flying around. Is this a new soul you're showing around?” [y/n] asked, smiling softly at the girl and the girl squealed.

“Yes! Actually, this man right here. Was a sinner and got redeemed! Isn't that amazing!” Emily says and [y/n]'s eyes widened and smiled, smirking a bit before returning it to a genuine smile. The confused snake just staring back and forth between the two girls.

“Really? Now, isn't that surprising. This... This changes everything.” [y/n] says with a whisper before turning to look at the redeemed soul.

“Tell me, mister. What is your name? As one of the seven virtues, I would like to know the name of the first sinner ever to be redeemed.” [y/n] says curtly and bows at him gracefully.

“I am Sssir Pentiousss... It is a pleassure to meet you... Misss?” Sir Pentious greeted, though a little awkward but cute.

“Greetings Sir Pentious, I am Raphael. An archangel and one of God's seven virtues. But you can call me [y/n].” [y/n] says with a small smile, offering her hand for a handshake which Sir Pentious accepted.

[Y/n] looked at her watch that's on her wrist, pretended to look worried. “As much as I want to stay and chat. I have somewhere else to be. Emily, Sir Pentious. It was nice seeing you two.” [y/n] says frantically, although just pretending.

Emily nodded and tried to calm the panicking archangel, “It's alright Miss [y/n], we can catch up later.” she says and [y/n] smiles and places a gentle kiss on the girl's forehead.

“Alright, have fun. And Sir Pentious?” [y/n] calls out to the man and he looks at her with confusion. “Welcome to heaven, I hope you'll enjoy your stay.” she says and quickly waves goodbye and flies away.

A meeting was then held with the seven virtues, they discussed what they should do next now that Charlotte Morningstar's hotel has worked. They agreed to put Sera on a trial but won't punish her severely like Lucifer.

“Adam's dead?” Camuel asked, shocked and [y/n] nodded.

“Apparently. Based on the exorcists' reports. Manz gone.” [y/n] says with a shrug and a lazy smirk.

“Finally!” Azrael laughs, the others just smirking.

“Good riddance.” Michael says calmly though a slight smirk on his face.

“What's our next course of action?” Gabriel asked, crossing her arms.

“Since this hotel the Morningstars are offering seems to work then there's only one thing we can do next.” Uriel says, sighing.

“Can't believe it actually worked. I guess we were wrong on how we treated Lucifer.” Camuel says and the others just shrug and sigh.

“We support this. We'll have to make sure this hotel keeps on working.” Jophiel says.

“[y/n].” Michael calls out and [y/n] can already tell where this is going.

“No.” she deadpans and Michael deadpans at her in return.

“What do you mean no? I haven't even asked yet.” Michael deadpans, Azrael chuckling beside [y/n].

“I just have a feeling I won't like it.” [y/n] says with a frown on her face.

“Too bad, you're doing it anyways. I want you to go down there and make sure to keep track of the hotel's progress.” Michael says sternly making [y/n] whine, she drops her head onto the circular table they were all sitting in. Groaning.

“More work? I don't wanna.” she says with a groan. Gabriel laughs.

“This can be an opportunity to get closure with you know who?” Uriel says with a chuckle.

“The fuck is closure? I don't need it.” [y/n] says, rolling her eyes.

“I think this is your chance [n/n]. I heard he's divorced lmao.” Jophiel cackles, [y/n] groaning once more.

“You two are going to be matching or twinsies!” Azrael teases making [y/n] glare at him playfully.

“Jokes aside. You need this [y/n]. Get some closure. We want you to be happy for once and I don't think we can handle more years of you feeling guilty for being so cold during the last time you saw him.” Camuel says softly, giving the girl a thumbs up.

“I better get extra day offs for this.” [y/n] says with a groan.

“Deal.” Michael says and [y/n] sighs.

It was a few weeks after the extermination that was targeted at the hotel. The hotel has been rebuilt and now looks even better than before. Charlie is happy that she and her friends managed to stop the extermination. There are some new sinners who wanted to give redemption a try so now the hotel is now bustling slightly. Her dad moved in and has a room of his own and helps her manage the hotel.

Currently, the crew are in the lobby just talking. It was already late in the evening and the other guests are now sleeping. Angel, Lucifer, and Husk were at the bar area. Niffty was cleaning, Vaggie and Alastor were on the couch.

Knock, knock, knock.

Loud knocks were heard on the front door of the hotel.

“New guests perhaps?” Alastor says with a grin, Charlie grins excitedly. A new soul wanting to try redemption.

The others just watched the girl walked towards the door, curious who was behind it.

Charlie took a deep breath, preparing herself to greet the new guest.

Opening the door, it was someone she did not expect.

A tall woman (almost the same height as Alastor) was standing by the door, a serious look on her face. What caught her attention was the amount of authority and power emitting from her and... The golden halo on her head and the small angel wings behind her head.

“Good evening Charlotte Morningstar, I came as a messenger from heaven.” the angel says with a grin.

Lucifer's body went pale as he heard that oh so familiar voice.

“[y/n]...” Lucifer murmurs in disbelief, seeing his supposed best friend now in front of the door.

“It has been awhile, Lucifer.” [y/n] says softly, eyes still emotionless. She's actually just dissociating so her eyes are like that, she can't control it okay. She has a serious case of lazy eyes.

“Ooohh drama...” Angel Dust whispers to Husk.

Suddenly an angelic spear was pointed at her throat, she did not flinch nor was afraid. She merely used her finger to move it away.

“What are you doing here?” the gray haired girl asked, glaring at her. [Y/n] just looked down on her with a smile on her face.

“I am just here to deliver a message. The seven virtues would like to support this hotel!” She says with a grin, Lucifer looked at her suspiciously.

Why wouldn't he? The seven virtues didn't listen to him before. So why now?

“Why now? Why did the seven decide to support this hotel just now?” Lucifer glares.

[Y/n] clapped her hands, Lucifer's eyes landing on the wedding band on her middle finger. It's no longer in her ring finger.

Alastor noticed the way the king of hell looked at the newly appeared angel with so much longing in his eyes. Interesting... Alastor grins.

“First and foremost, heaven apologizes for the yearly cleansing. It was a decision Sera, the high seraphim decided without informing us. We do not condone her actions and she would be faced in a trial.” [y/n] says nonchalantly, putting her hands on her pocket.

Lucifer flinches, he didn't know the decision was Sera's alone.

“Secondly, the hotel works.” [y/n] says with a grin.

This made the others look at her with confusion.

“A certain serpent sinner was redeemed. Ironic as the first one to doom humanity was a serpent and the first one to give humanity hope for redemption is also a serpent.” [y/n] laughs softly, Lucifer's eye twitched.

[Y/n]'s words sparked even more confusion with the others.

“Serpent?” Angel Dust asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“Someone who goes by Sir Pentious is now in heaven. Based on my records, he was a sinner before.” [y/n] says, shrugging.

Their eyes widened at the news. Sir Pentious is alive!

“How can we be so sure you're not lying?” Husk asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman. [Y/n] just chuckles.

“It is up to you if you believe it or not, after all... Angels never lie.” she says with a grin, summoning a small notebook from thin air, flipping through the pages of the notebook to scan for her notes.

“Lastly, I will be helping with the hotel during my scheduled time here. I'll be keeping track of the soul's progress here and research how a soul actually goes to heaven as Sir Pentious' case is a rare one and the first one so... We have no data. Heaven hopes to find more info about this case.” [y/n] explained, “I hope we'll get along.” she says with a grin.

Charlie's eyes widened, progress. Her hotel is making progress. Heaven is slowly helping her.

“Excuse me, Miss...?” Charlie softly calls, not knowing the angel's name.

[Y/n] looked at the smaller girl, patting the girl's head.

“My name is [y/n], also known as the archangel Raphael. One of God's seven virtues. It is a pleasure to finally meet you officially, Ms. Morningstar.” [y/n] introduces herself gracefully. Lucifer is still in awe in how fast she climbed the ranks.

Charlie nodded, finally happy to know the woman.

“Is there a way for us to visit Sir Pentious?” she asked hopefully, the others leaning in and hoping the same thing. [Y/n] closes her notebook, a loud sound sounding from it.

“I am sorry, heaven currently doesn't accept visitation unless necessary. Although, I can send letters back and forth whenever I visit.” She suggested, Charlie's eyes saddened but returned to hopeful. At least they know Sir Pentious is still alive.

“That would be all. I'll see you next time on my visit to keep track of the progress. Until then.” [y/n] says softly bowing at them. Turning her back and slowly walked away from the door.

Stopping, she didn't turn around to face them again.

“And Lucifer...?” she says, hesitating but her voice is vulnerable. Lucifer's breath hitched and the others just looked at the scene with curiosity. It is obvious these two knew each other based on how they already know each when she first arrived. They can practically sense the tension.

“I was wrong and I am sorry.” she says softly. Summoning her three pairs of wings, large and majestic.

She has wings now... Lucifer thought. His eyes softened when he heard her apologize.

“Wait... [Y/n]—” He called out but she didn't listen.

[Y/n] quickly flies away, a portal opening for her and closes after she enters.

“Did anyone else notice the tension...?” Angel asked, voicing out everyone's thoughts, a smirk on his face. Angel didn't mention that he really felt the unspoken romantic tension between the two angelic beings. He's getting more tea.

“This is getting interesting.” Alastor says with a grin and Lucifer knows that the radio demon just found more ways to torment him.

End notes: I know some of you read Alastor's line in Zhongli or Childe's voice lmao. And yes, Azrael and reader divorced each other. I had to ship Azrael with my oc okayy, I need Azrael to have some love 💀

TAGLIST:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata

#hazbin hotel #lxkeee answers #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lxkeee updates #lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Andrew Scott, Vogue: April 2024.

by Zing Tsjeng, Photos by Annie Leibovitz

Ripley, in other words, is the hero of the tale. “That’s why he fascinates so many,” says Scott. “There’s been so many iterations of him. I think it’s because people root for him.” Actors like Alain Delon and Dennis Hopper have tried the role; Matt Damon played him as an obsequious, lower-class naïf; John Malkovich, as a slimy, camp killer. Scott’s Ripley is different; a watchful loner escaping rodent-infested poverty, more at home among art than he is around people. Musician and actor Johnny Flynn plays his first victim—the monied Dickie Greenleaf—and Dakota Fanning is Dickie’s suspicious ex-girlfriend. “I find Tom quite vulnerable,” Scott tells me. “I don’t think he’s necessarily lonely, but I certainly think he’s solitary…. He seems to me by his nature that he just can’t fit in. He’s trying to survive.”

In Ripley, Zaillian extracts maximum Hitchcockian dread from every creaky footstep. But most sinister of all is Scott’s face, which exhibits a sharklike steeliness throughout. It’s a performance that exudes queasy force. Is Ripley a scammer, a psychopath, or both? “There’s so many things lurking beneath him that I’ve been very reluctant to diagnose him with anything. I never thought of him as a sociopath or murderous,” Scott declares. “It’s up to everybody else to characterize him or call him whatever they want.”

As we weave through tourists near the Tower of London, barely anybody notices Scott, save for a faint glimmer of recognition among mainly young women. He seems to draw reassurance from it. “I don’t like to think about it too much, if I’m honest,” he muses of fame. “I find it a little bit, er, frightening.” He is known but not blockbuster-recognizable, although he is in the upcoming Back in Action with Cameron Diaz and Jamie Foxx. What stunts did he do? “I can’t give that away, I’m afraid, or somebody from Netflix will come and shoot me in the head.”

What’s been on Scott’s mind the most hasn’t been acting at all, in fact, but art. As a 17-year-old, he was offered his first movie role on the same day he was given a scholarship to study painting. He chose acting, but has recently been thinking about Oliver Burkeman’s philosophical self-help tract from 2021, Four Thousand Weeks, which makes the case for focusing on the five things you truly want to accomplish. “For me at the moment, it’s like, What do you want to do? What do you want to say?”

He scrolls through his phone to show me his work. There’s a watercolor of a couple arguing in a restaurant in rich reds and greens, line drawings of friends and people on the beach, and two self-portraits. “It’s a bit weird,” he acknowledges of his depiction of himself, all bulbous forehead and Pan-like tufts of hair. His brisk, nervy lines are reminiscent of Egon Schiele or Francis Bacon, who turns out to be one of his favorite painters. “Well, God, I’ll take that,” he mutters at the comparison. He would like someday to go to art school. “I don’t ever regret it,” he says of acting. “But I suppose you just get to a stage where you think, What else? That’s one of the big painful things in life for me, where you can’t quite live all the lives.” As he gets older, he feels the tug toward revisiting old working relationships, including with Waller-Bridge: “We’ve definitely got things cooking,” he smiles. “I’d love to work with her again. She’s just a singular, wonderful person.” For her part, Waller-Bridge says: “I’d love to see him do a fully unhinged slapstick comedy character. Someone who is outraged at everything, all of the time.”

As we round the pavement and the Tate Modern looms back into sight, he recalls a poster he received in 2017—a monstrously large graphic that detailed every week in a human life span. “It’s your entire life if you live to 80—you have to fill in all the bits that you’ve already lived,” he remembers in awe, “a visually terrifying gift.” What did he do with it? “I didn’t hold on to it for too long.” Easy come, easy go: We finally finish our loop around the Thames and, as Scott disappears back into the throng, anonymous just the way he likes it, it occurs to me that the actor has many lives to live yet. ■

#andrew scott #ripley #vanya #all of us strangers #julianne moore #phoebe waller bridge #annie leibovitz #vogue

[chantiying]

Message from your inner child

Before to start, sorry for any mistakes or grammar error. English is not my first language. How to choose? Think of something you liked when you were a child (a game, a toy, a smell, a candy, your favorite stuffed animal) and try to remember you as a kid, take a deep breath and when you're ready, you and your inner child choose the image that drawn to you. Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposes. This reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go

: ¨·.·¨ :

` ·. 🦋

╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ

TW. Direct or indirect mention of abuse, bulling, violence, familial violence, broken family among others.

Ok, let's go!!!

PILE 1

Hello my friend :) Do you remember how disastrous our childhood was? Do you remember that there were some people who hurt us? Remember when we were pushed aside from parties? Do you remember when we found out that sometimes the "love" of a couple is not two but three? Remember when we found out what infidelity meant? Come, here and close your eyes for a moment, because I want to tell you a secret but I don't want you to see me are you ready? Yes? Ok: the infidelity of our parents marked me

I know since then we don't know what it means to love or how to make a relationship work. I know it's a lot harder for you than it was for me. I know sometimes you wonder if you're loving too little or too much, I know you're scared of being harmed like mom and dad did. Do you still feel that strange feeling of isolating all noise with music or the TV on while we sit on the floor of the room begging for it all to end? I do love you, my friend :) I know it seems a little difficult, I know it seems a little hard to say and hear, I know you may not believe it because they made you doubt what it means to love someone, but, I'll let you in on another secret: I don't feel alone anymore. I've learned that sometimes we have to leave where the water overflows to build a better castle. I learned to be smarter and not to argue when it's not necessary, to stop talking where no one listens, to live with myself and with you.

Please, I know it's not easy, but I want you to start again, on your own, I want you to leave everything behind, to let the dragons (they are not bad I already talked to them and they said they are on our side) I want you to let them destroy what hurts us, and to start building your own fortress. I want to be your first beautiful relationship. I want that you love me because I love you and I will always love you. Please love me, okay? Let's be you and me (km little you, hehe) against everyone. I want to be your partner in crime and have us laugh together. I promise you that after that, we're going to smile more and forget what they did to us.

You also have to eat well, did you hear me? Oh and don't tell anyone, but, I'm craving our favorite sweet treat from when we were little, can you eat it for us?

I'm always with you, don't forget me, I'm you but in little. Oh, something else, let's pretend it's your birthday, yei ! let's be happy for today and close your eyes again and make a wish

Francis Forever Mitski, Innocent Taylor Swift. Grey, Purple, Blue. Leaves & Streets. Orange juice?, Music, Cartoons, Headphones, Magic Wand. Mulan (I'll Make a Man Out of You)

🧸🎂🎈🍫 🧸🪄🎈🍫

PILE 2

Hey!!! What's up, buddy? I am very happy, I feel that I have arrived where I needed to be, I feel that the sun has finally risen, I feel that all the changes I had to go through have now paid off. The knowledge, the peace, the beliefs, everything I needed to cultivate is bearing fruit. See? I even speak as someone cultured and intellectual 😸. At first I didn't notice it, I was incredulous, but then I started thinking and thinking and thinking, and I realized that the change started in the interior. I know, you don't have to tell me, it sounds very cheesy, it sounds silly, but, I must admit, even if it's a little embarrassing, that sometimes dreaming and being cheesy is kind of fun SO DON'T MAKE FUN OF ME 😾😹. Ok, let's be serious, mate. We went through a time where we didn't believe in anything and we didn't even know if we should believe but I kept doing it. I kept looking until I got to where I needed to and BOOM it all made sense. Our lives are going to get better, we're better now, we're brave, we're smart, we're strong, we're cool !! We still have to keep learning, we still have a long way to go, but I learned that learning is also fun. DON'T GIVE UP, OK? Ok. I know it's hard to grow, but we've always wanted this, we've never bowed down, we've never given up, we've always looked forward and we'll continue to do so

Keep in your heart the ones who help you and give you happy moments, then let's continue writing our story

No matter how many steps forward you take, whether it's one or two or a thousand, I'll always be there proud of where you've taken us and what an amazing person you've made us. I only ask you to never forget where you come from and where you are going, don't forget to be grateful, don't play with anyone's heart or time, that's not good 😾. I want you to appreciate the time and I want that, when you think that the world is against you, or that everything is going wrong, you can change it. Don't worry, I don't want you to blame yourself for everything, but I also don't want you to always blame it on others. I know sometimes it's hard, keep trying again and again, even if you're scared don't don't victimize yourself because heroes don't do that, and you and I have the prettiest cape, we have the cutest glitter and we have the best superhero story just for us, and don't be afraid, because superheroes can do anything and if we can't our superhero friends will help us 😼

Let's be great, let's be epic!

Disney, A lot of changes or currently changing something, Happiness, Beach, Comics, Sun, Summer, Ice cream, Watch, Hats, Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride, Hannah Montana, Vacation, Pop en español (Pop in Spanish), Extrovert, Mischievous, Spider man? Funny, Tangled (the movie)

🦸, 👨‍🚀, 🐱, 🚀

PILE 3

There are two of us, we are yourself and I, and it has always been like this ☺️, do you feel confused? Because I do, a little bit, you won't get mad if I tell you, right? You'll understand, right? I feel like everything is going so fast, I feel like I can't stop, I feel like I want to rest, I feel like when I wanted the geography or math hour to end and go out for recess to get some fresh air. why is everything going so fast? I want to understand what's going on, I want to, I really want to, but I can't. Do you no longer feel distrustful? Do you believe in other people yet? Because I don't do it yet 🥺, do we have friends yet? Or are we still alone? Are they still hurting us? Are we still unsafe? I don't want to be like that anymore, I promise you, (crying?) I want to have a lot of friends, I want to be loved, I want to play, I want to have fun, but I can't believe in others, do you? I don't want to be alone, I know I said it was you and me, and I still believe it, it's you and me against the world, but I also want us to be more against the world. I want someone to turn on the light and hold my hand, would you? I want you to hug me, talk to me, I feel like you're mad at me, at the little you from a few years ago, did I do something wrong? Do you think it was my fault that we were treated like this? Do you think it was my fault that we were disappointed? I'm a little annoyed with you too, not gonna lie. you know what? I was a kid but you have everything to change what happened to us, you pretend that it doesn't hurt anymore and that's a lie! you're still upset and scared, listen, it's ENOUGH! Do something for us. At least I'm angry but I want us to change this, I want us to be happy. I want us to be together and happy, I want us to be one, I want you to remember me, but not only the bad but the good as well, remember what we like, remember the watercolors, the music we liked, remember the sun, the window, remember the yard, remember the stories that mom/dad used to tell us. Remember Mom/Dad. Remember the puddles after the rain. Please, I'm not asking you to want to be a child again to do everything differently, I'm asking you to connect with me so that our creativity flies, so that you know where to go, so that you can start something new.

The magic is in us, accept us, what you don't want to let out, is what makes us most beautiful

You will get what you want, but don't want everything, don't be ambitious. Don't forget us, don't forget you, never forget yourself.

Sadness, Grudge, Sobbing, Poverty (both spiritual and economic), Pranks, Bullying, Grass, Secret place, 8 years? Cold, Scams, Rain, Mirror, Emojis. Monsters, inc. As a child, Madeline The Person. J's lullaby (darling I'd wait for you), Delaney bailey. All I want, Kodaline. Rises the moon, Liana Flores

ꗃ🗝₊˚⊹♡ 𓉞 . ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼

Hi guys! Sorry for the late update. To be honest I struggle being consistent in what I do, but I'm trying (no, I'm really trying) to be more consistent.

Today, is children's day in my country, so I decided to do this spread for you all, because I consider that connecting and embracing our inner child is one of the most healing things we can do. So happy Children's Day !!

Alic (Chanty) 🪽

#tarot #tarot reading #tarot asks #tarot cards #tarot tumblr #tarotblr #pick a card #tarot and astrology #tarotcommunity #pick one #pick a picture

[trulyumai]

Oh, Mr mosses (Series!) V

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret  of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being. Now, his Mimic has taken a liking to you too.

Will you be as smitten of them as they are of you? Only time will tell.

Author Note: Hello everyone, a bit longer of a chapter but thats okay! After Thursday I will be final free! Which means I'll have more time for writing and answering requests, thank you for your patience! <3

Warnings: Blood, Obsessive/Possessive behavior, Stalking, Talk about Death, Mutilation.

Also available on AO3!

Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy @skully-skeleton-bone0106 @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-tiger-lover78 @itoshilvr @wilddreamer98 (Let me know if you want to be added!)

God, even the way she laid there, limp against the office wall was everything to him. 

Biting down on 28 only crunches and squelches echoed through the room, the said man laid in pieces by his feet. 

He casually sat there in her squeaky chair, munching on a limb like it was normal; an everyday hobby. 

Humming a familiar tune he threw the rest of the arm past him, somewhere towards the cabinets, he had to guess. 

With his feet on the desk he sighed. 

Soon the D.D.D would learn of his presence, his safety would be at risk and his little toy would be in even more danger than she already was. 

Maybe he would take her, hide her away to be his little wife. That is what they’re called, aren’t they?

First things first; he had to dispose of the replica. 

Clicking his teeth he scratched his nails on the wood beside him. 

That fucking fool. A useless mirror image he copied. 

He had to learn everything about the man before taking his face; starting with his job, his hobbies, his routes, down to the fucking shampoo he preferred. Until it got to his favorite area, the most recent addition in his life; the pretty receptionist. 

He knew it would be so easy to manipulate the woman. Her mind was so weak compared to him, with just a tad bit of bending (Mentally and a bit physically), he molded her perfectly for him. 

Enough to not only get access to the building, but to her as well. 

She groaned as she laid there, she must be having a nightmare. He hoped it involved him, with some image of the mimic biting chunks out or flesh, kissing them as he went on.  Holding back a grin he decided to move her, before someone else were to poke their nose in the already bloodied business of theirs. He pulled her up until she reached his chest and eyed the old corroded clipboard by the door. 

Going down the list of names he got to her; room 24 Level 2.

Stepping through the red he rubbed his feet on 28’s corpse, letting the leftover blood dry on his once white, button up. We wouldn’t want a little trail now would we? 

Clicking the green button he passed 28 once more, whistling lowly as the elevator pushed its doors open with a groan. 

Stepping in his clawed finger pressed the second button on the wall, watched as the doors came together with a satisfying thunk. 

Belly satiated and full, he looked down at the woman in his arms, her head was lolled to the side, leaning firmly on his chest. Grinning wide he bent towards her, pressing a sloppy, bloody kiss to her forehead, cheek and nose. 

The box dinged once again, the doors slid open loudly to indicate their arrival to her floor. 

Walking through the corridor, he read the numbers idly 

10, 12, 14, 

A turn left 

16, 18, 20- 

A creek escaped, some neighbor had opened their door, just up ahead.

It was that rich suited prick. 

“Ah! Francis, lovely to- is that the receptionist?” His grin was hesitant, eying the girl with bloody marks on her face. 

He could kill him now, but it would be more of a mess to deal with, he doubted he could hide another body from the D.D.D.

Mustering up a smile, his sharp teeth gritted together.

“She’s ah, not feeling well,” attempting to move past the pompous man and walk towards her door just steps away, the man stopped them once more and put a hand out for extra measure. 

Growling he slowly turned, met the eyes of the man once more. 

“Do we have a problem,” he gritted, claws digging into the poor girl below him. 

“Well- ah, tell her to visit me when she feels up to it,” 

He put his hand back at his side, rubbing his fingers idly. 

“I have a job opportunity for her, you see!” 

Not bothering to waste anymore time, he pressed on to her room. Ignoring the suited man's stares as he clicked her key into place, shoving them both inside before slamming the door. 

“Fucking prick.” He muttered. 

But now he was all alone, could touch and prod at the girl with no interruptions. 

Looking around he noticed the apartment was tidy; everything had a place, plants sat by the darkened windowsill and beside them, a full bookcase was laid about. Her kitchen was spotless, only a few decorative items littered the counters while the sink was, of course, empty. 

Holding her up with one hand he scratched at his gums, pieces of bone were starting to prod against his teeth, becoming more annoying than painful. 

Looking for her bedroom he propped open a door with his shoulder, and with a thump, dumped her unceremoniously on the mattress. 

It was then, he realized. 

“Oh fuck.” 

Bolting angrily back towards the door, the hallway and elevator as fast as he could, he bit down on his annoyingly human cheek; hard. 

He left the elevator unlocked. 

Any other mimic could come through freely and he really couldn’t have that. 

Another competition for his food? Yeah no, fuck that. He hated how territorial his kind was, made everything a pain in the ass to retrieve and made survival even more strenuous. 

It’s why he found himself here; In this little rundown apartment, with surprisingly good security. 

Being denied and caught over and over made everything so much more satisfying, because he knew that if he waited- stuck around for the right moment, he’d get in. 

Watched plenty of his kind die too, before deciding to take a shape of his own, and finally, making his way to the pretty and gullible receptionist. 

Mashing the first floor button he clawed at his face, light red marks dented down with each press of his fingers. 

Ironically enough, he’s the one that has to distinguish between what’s real and fake now.

Waiting for the elevator he growled.

“What a pain in the ass.” 

——

The milkman was tired. Getting in, absolutely no one was there to check his ID, and he wondered if the receptionist was okay (Yet again). It seemed that lately, that’s all he could think about. Her health, the way she smiled, her pretty hands.

 Not once had she missed any of her shifts, and although he had only been there for a short time, he would always hear from the neighbors how dutiful she was. 

Come sickness, fatigue, anything, she would be there. 

Walking past the office, his fingers shook cautiously by his sides. 

Enough was enough, he would talk to her, he couldn’t avoid her forever and his little, “crush,” wasn’t going away anytime soon. 

So with a long intake of air. He pressed her floor number. 

It was now or never. 

The doors closed, and the travel up began. 

Floor1

Ding!

Floor 2

Ding!

With his head pointed downwards he heard the doors sliding open before walking forward, passing a quick figure to his left. Not bothering to greet them he kept his head down.

The anxiety was getting to him and wait- he didn’t even know what room she was in! 

Head up, he turned back toward the figure that passed him. 

They obviously resided on this floor, maybe he could attempt to ask them about her room without completely looking like a creep. 

But what he saw he just couldn’t explain- rationally describe. 

His face stared back at him, it was set in a scowl while he noticed vast amounts of blood adorned his usually crisp white shirt. The doors were on their way to closing, and this version of him reached out to stop it.

He was too late, the metal doors crashed together and Francis could feel his heart jumping out of his chest. 

What the actual fuck was going on.

Was he that tired? 

Grabbing his face he turned back, mumbling incessant comforts to stop the beats of his heart from getting any faster. 

He needed to find her room, and fast.

-

The first thing she noticed was her head. It boomed with an unfathomable amount of pressure, and she was hesitant to open her eyes. 

She felt around, immediately recognizing the comfort of her own duvet, the silkiness of her pillows,  the faint wafts of the candle she lit the night prior. It calmed the tenseness found between her shoulders, instantly relaxing against the cushioned material. 

With a muffled groan she allowed her eyelids to slink up, her messy room greeted her vision. 

Not remembering the trip up, she laid there, stretched out and confused. 

Craning her head just off the side of the bed, the receptionist glanced towards the hallway; to her front door that was wide open. 

Jerking up, her feet collided with one another, and looking more like a newborn calf than human she attempted her way to the front of the room. 

Never before had a fatigue caused this much confusion; chaos to her mind. 

Something had to be wrong. 

She remembered clocking in, idly sitting by as the clock ticked and ticked. After that it was all blank- it startled her to no end. 

With a hand on the door frame her figure leaned on the wall, just outside her abode. 

Biting her lip she held back a whimper, the bright lights of the hall burned her eyes, she tried to go off of memory, closing her eyes as she felt for every familiar bump and groove of the space.

Turning to where she remembered the elevator was, someone bumped into her- hard. 

“My goodness!” That voice… could it really be? 

“Francis?” Squinting her eyes she blinked repeatedly, trying to get the figure to focus in her vision. 

“H-Hey,” the deep voice answered back, smiling, as she knew it was the tired mailman. Only he could have such a serious yet flustered sounding voice.  

“I've been looking for you,”

The man gripped the girl's shoulders, light yet firm and bent down just to meet her gaze.

“Some… things have been happening, I wanted to see if you were okay.” Flustered, the girl forced out a laugh, taking a hand off her shoulder she gripped it softly. 

“I'm okay, you look more disheveled than me, big guy, what's up?” Kneading the flesh around his knuckles the man couldn't help but relax. 

She smelled so good- of lilac and vanilla, it invaded his senses and corrupted his mind. He couldn't even remember the duplicate until it was shoved back by his consciousness. 

Letting out a low moan he shook his head. ‘Focus Francis, god-’ 

“I have to talk to you,” he blurted out, face getting warmer as she paused her movement, and looked right at him. 

Letting out a giggle she rested her arm, just so it leaned comfortably in the crook of his elbow. 

“Okay? My rooms around the corner, if you wanna talk there?”

Not relying on his words he nodded his head, letting the girl lightly pull his arm to her apartment. 

Now, he just had to figure out how to explain his bloody twin. 

Should be easy!

And if she calls him crazy, and ultimately pushes him out of the apartment- possibly building, at least he got to get this close to her. 

Smelling her, touching her, it was better than living alone with his thoughts- tormenting him every hour of the week that he lazily spent thinking about her anyway.

Inhaling her flowery scent once more he shuddered, he hoped the pretty girl would believe him, so he could once more bask in her presence and ignore every little thing around.

#francis mosses x reader #horror #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #francis mosses x you #game x reader #horror game #x reader #fanfiction #romance #Mimic #Thank you Caseoh for showing me this game ILY

[faux-ecrivain]

Yan Twins x gn reader

(Names are Leslie and Francis) (How Leslie Views You) Part One (Twenty Fourth Official Post)

———————————————————— Francis and Leslie are twin brothers, Francis being the eldest and Leslie being the youngest. Both boys were quite close, but their parents always believed that they should be closer. This often caused a rift between the two kids, it made their relationship strained. Francis agreed with their parents, whereas Leslie believed that he and Francis were close enough. In fact, Leslie felt that he and his brother were too close and needed some distance. His brother caused a ruckus whenever Leslie mentioned this and eventually Leslie learned to be quiet about his desires, and needs. However, he could not be quiet about you, especially not when there was always the looming threat of losing you. Leslie first saw you at a museum, you didn’t seem particularly fascinated with anything on display, and you weren’t exactly memorable. You didn’t stand out, you actually blended in, and the only reason he noticed you was because his brother pointed you out. (Something about your atrocious fashion sense) Of course, Leslie didn’t share his brother’s opinion of you and thought that your outfit was suitable considering the occasion. The occasion being a reveal of the newest addition to the museum, most had chosen to dress formally, and you were no exception. Regardless, aside from your outfit, there was nothing else that caught his attention. The only reason he ever became attracted to you is because of your personality, whilst you appear apathetic and bored on the outside, you actually have quite an interesting view on the world. Anytime he talked to you, he often found him questioning his very reality, you were smart and wise (so wise sometimes it was difficult to believe that you were only 27), and you didn’t like Francis. Which was quite a surprise because everyone he knows loves Francis and it’s a relief to meet someone that despises him. Hence why he was so fixated on you, you were different. Your opinions are different, Your views are strange, especially the way you dress, everything about you was so different from those that surround him. He liked it and he needed something different in his life, so naturally he was drawn to you and did what he could to keep you a secret from Francis. Of course, that didn’t last very long, because Francis knows everything and if he doesn’t know something he’ll find out.

————————————————————

(This one is short, it’s just Part one and it’s a bit contradictory. I’ll edit it later, I was gonna make it longer, but I’m tired, distracted and my brain is not being creative right now. So, enjoy this short fanfic and feel free to comment, reblog and like!)

(Also the names might seem a tad strange, but I know Leslie was pretty popular in the 50s and Francis was chosen because of Frank from Blue Bloods.)

#yandere oc #my writing #yandere x reader #enjoy this short fanfic! #gn reader #not the best #fanfic #Part One #Twenty Fourth Official Post #Leslie my oc #Francis my oc #My oc Francis #My oc Leslie #gn reader x yandere #gn y/n #x reader #gender neutral reader

[tendergraphite]

Richard Papen: The Master of Illusion

Why did Richard become an accomplice, how could he so easily be swayed to ''Allow'' murder? The answer is simple: He longed for the picturesque—at any cost.

Richard grew up isolated, and seen as an inconvenience; Nineteen-years-of-life and not a single mention of an old friend (Apart from an ex-girlfriend he was desperate to rid of)—It's why he idolises Hampden and the Greek Scholars to such a fictitious degree, they represented everything he did not have: Fundamental familial experiences with love, being cared for, and feeling wanted.

They were beautiful, but beauty cannot replace what he hadn't had.

The Motive: To sum it all up in a pretty bow for you; Richard left his morals at the door once Henry rescued him—All of his fears had not only been amplified in chapter 3, but realised; His Parents distain, his Teachers neglect, his lack of companionship, his very existence unperceived (tainted): All of which almost led him to his own grave, with nowhere else to turn.

The side-character to his own story, the man everyone felt passive-disdain for (Not even hatred, that would be too impassioned—To personal.) But for the first time, someone caught him when he fell. For the first time he was shown compassion, Henry stayed by his bedside when he was too ill to do much else other than lay in pain, and Henry made it clear he would recover within his own home and very bed—An action Richard could never forget—Of course he'd put Henry atop a pedestal, and become so agreeable for his Messiah; Richard had never experienced such guidance nor support in his entire life.

After a life of desperation for an escape—After everything which previously had been brimmed with dread, suddenly leaked beauty: Was it really a question of if once glanced, whether he'd franticly flail to grasp it again? Of if he'd insert himself into these people's lives, and make any sacrifice possible to return their tranquil silence once it had been so foolishly broken by Bunny?

Now the real reason I am creating this post: That's right I fooled you into reading my theory MWHAHA!—Richard Papen was the one to push Bunny, not Henry. I figured I'd get his motive out of the way before we'd delve into pure insanity.

The most notable part of the actual murder is it's never written who pushes Bunny. One of the general ideas for the reason is it didn't matter who it was, simply that they were all complicite... But that's a little boring, so let's pick at this wound. It simply couldn't have been Henry; He was thirty-feet-away, his shear distance keeps coming up too—But with Richard, Bunny was practically breathing down his neck, he was close enough to read the label on the bear bottle.

He describes being overwhelmed by Bunny's sudden appearance, but really it was anticipation: Because Richard realized he'd have to be the one to push him. If Henry had tried to push Bunny it couldn't of logistically worked, there is no element of surprise as Henry is too faraway and within Bunny's direct sight, he has his full attention. Henry may be large but so is Bunny, it's even directly mentioned here how he's 6 foot 3; Not to mention Bunny had fully been expecting Henry to attempt to murder him at some point.

You could argue he was just to stupid to fight back—However, Richard may never describe the push, but he does go into deep details on the shear surprise and shock on Bunny's face; He well and truly hadn't seen his emendate death coming. Dumbassery doesn't entirely dull out your reflexes nor does it suddenly make you the size of Francis scrawny ass.

Bun entirely trusted Richard, all Richards previous machinations of Bunny's jealousy for him he'd made up in his own mind and didn't actually match in Bunny's actions.

Richards within shoulder length, and Henry, who limps and is too far to seize the element of surprise: The push—The fall, Richard watches each and every moment of Bunny's death at an intimate proximity.

It just couldn't have been Henry, I'm sorry.

It all loops back to why Richard would've felt the need to commit this murder, because yes Henry manipulates Richard well and truly but it completely backfires due to Richards traumatic history: Ultimately he killed Bun out of his own volition, and selfish desire for the picturesque lifestyle he'd only so recently acquired.

And finally, Donna Tartts quote of The Greeks and The Irrational

Dionysus [is] The Master of Illusions, who could make a vine grow out of a ship's plank, and in general enable his votaries to see the world as the world's not.

We are reminded of who our narrator is, and then must listen to Richard try desperately to twist his language in order to fool us into believing Henry had well and truly committed the murder without implicating either of them.

But no man who was a mere witness describes a murder in the way Richard chose to, it is morbid and soaked in guilt. He goes on a tangent about murderers always avoiding telling the meat of their crimes, but really he was doing so to avoid telling us the true events of that evening; He goings in circles around the incident constantly, never landing on the mark.

God this post got long, if you made it through the entire thing oh my gosshhh hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii how are youuuu :)

#the secret history #richard papen #henry winter #tsh analysis

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Just the Way You Are

Pairing: JoeQuinnxReader

Request: So, I always see fics where the reader is self-conscious and struggling with body image issues and Joe or Eddie make them feel better. What if Joe was struggling with it because so many people commented on his changing weight and the reader had to make him feel better?

18+ Only

“I really don’t feel like cooking. Do you want to go out to dinner tonight?” you called from the kitchen as you rummaged through cupboards. 

You had plenty of groceries but absolutely zero motivation to cook. It had been a long week. Everything that could have gone wrong at work had and you felt like you’d been running full throttle, putting out mini fires everywhere. On top of that, you hadn’t had sex all week. Every time you tried to initiate it, Joe would gently turn you down and it was really starting to get in your head. Maybe a nice dinner out and a couple glasses of wine would relax you both and he’d finally be in the mood. 

“Oh, you know darling, I am not even that hungry,” Joe called back and you sighed, pressing your forehead against the cabinet. “But if you’re feeling peckish, you can always order something in. Maybe I’ll nibble a bit later.”

Alright, it was time to go in, guns blazing. You’d never known Joe to go this long without sex, at least not willingly. Sure, when he was shooting or off somewhere for a con or a photoshoot, you’d have to go longer but not when you were in the same damn house together. He usually couldn’t keep his hands to himself and you were exhausted, but for an entirely, far more pleasant reason.

“Love?” Joe asked quietly as you stomped past him and into the bedroom, slamming the door behind you. 

You rummaged in your underwear draw, finding the purple lacy matching set that Joe loved. If this didn’t work, you didn’t know what would but at this point you had to try something. You were getting in your own head, wondering if he was even attracted to you anymore. Had he met someone else? Was he just too polite to tell you it was over? Well, you’d find out soon enough because he didn’t jump on you while you were wearing this, you would have all the answers you needed. Pulling off your clothes, you slipped it on just as he was knocking gently on the bedroom door. 

“Are you okay, darling?” he called softly through the wood, trying the knob but you’d locked it behind you. “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

You flipped the lock and swung the door open. Joe’s soft smile instantly morphed into wide eyes and jaw dropped as he took in the sight of you, nothing covering you but that flimsy little lace. Your nipples hardened just from his eyes moving over your body and his tongue running along his bottom lip. Joe’s hand came up to his chin, running over his beard. 

“Wow,” he rasped, his voice strained, barely a whisper. “I…uh…I wasn’t expecting all that. You only wear that when…I mean, you know that’s my favorite.”

“Yeah, I do. So what are you going to do about it?” you challenged, sliding your fingers along the door frame, leaning forward into him. 

Joe cleared his throat, his adam’s apple visibly bobbing as he held his hands up and took a step back. Your heart dropped. It was as if he was protecting himself from you, warding you off, as if you might suddenly pounce and attack him. To be fair, you just might. You were getting that desperate wondering if this man, this beautiful man that you loved more than life itself, even wanted you anymore. 

“Joe?” you asked softly, hoping the hurt you felt deep inside your chest wasn’t obvious in your eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he said, his eyes focused on anywhere but you. “You look amazingly fit right now but I just…I’m so tired. Maybe tomorrow, m’kay?”

“Joseph Anthony Francis Quinn, what in the hell is going on?” you shrieked, hands flying up as you finally lost it. 

Those little forehead wrinkles became real prominent as his eyebrows almost reached his hairline, his entire body tensing at the use of his full name. He knew you were angry and he was in full anxiety mode, brain working overtime to try to figure out how to fix it. 

“I…nothing…I just…tired, you know…” he stammered.

“Bullshit! You’re the horniest guy I know. You can’t ever keep your hands to yourself. I am usually the one who says I’m tired. We haven’t had sex all week. We watch Netflix and you sit as far from me as possible. I tried to lay my head on your stomach and you claimed you had indigestion. You’d laid next to me in bed and haven’t even tried to sleep with your hand on my boob or my ass. So, what is really going on? Do you just not find me attractive anymore?”

“What?” Joe asked, that anxiety quickly turning to panic. “No. I think you’re gorgeous, love, you know that! Seeing you standing there in that little purple number…I mean, fuck, all I want to do is ravish you.”

“So, what the hell is stopping you!?” you yelled, completely lost as to what was going on. 

“Me!” he cried, hands coming to his chest, fingertips pressing into his shirt. “I’m stopping me. I…” 

Joe spun the other way and you watched as his chest rose and fell hard with the inhale he took. You moved toward him, placing your hands on his back and he flinched for a moment but then relaxed under your touch. But when you went to slide your arms around his middle, he grabbed your hands, spinning to face you, keeping hold of them to stop you from trying again. 

“Baby, why can’t I touch you?” you asked. “I don’t understand what is going on here. If you’re still attracted to me and you still love me, then what is the problem?”

“I…shit…” he muttered, pressing his lips together, closing his eyes. You stood quiet, waiting for him to be ready to share. Finally, he opened his eyes and looked at you. “I wonder if you’re still attracted to me.”

“Me? Joe, I put on lacy underwear to try to get you into bed. Of course I am still attracted to you.”

“It’s just that I’ve seen a lot of comments lately and I think I’ve been letting them get into my head. I got real self conscious and I didn’t want you to see me bare-assed because I thought…”

“You thought what? What comments?”

Joe groaned, “It’s so bloody stupid. I don’t know why I let it get in my head. But ever since Stranger Things, people have been commenting on my body. After the show, when I was doing all those interviews, people were commenting on how much weight I put on…”

“Yeah, because you dieted to the extreme to get a teenage body. That wasn’t your natural state. So what?”

“I know, but then they commented when I lost weight again and it just seems like my body is never okay with anybody. I don’t know why so many people care anyway. It’s my bloody body!”

“Well, I happen to care very much,” you told him. 

“You do?”

“Yes, but I care because this body is attached to the man I love. I have loved every single shape your body’s been,” you assured him. You pulled your hands free, placing them on his waist and you felt him tense. “Joe, you are perfect. You are sexy no matter what the scale says and the only time I would care is if you weren’t taking care of yourself because what I love most about your body is this.” You placed your hand over his heart. “This belongs to me, and I expect you to take good care of it because I want you around for a good, long time.”

“Oh really?” he asked, a small smile curving his lips. “How long?”

“If I have my way, forever,” you insisted. “Baby, please don’t ever feel self conscious around me. I love you because you’re you. I don’t care if you're twenty pounds heavier or lighter. If I suddenly put on weight, would you leave me?”

“Of course not. I always think you’re beautiful.”

“Smart man. That was the right answer,” you whispered, gripping his shirt in your hands as you pulled his lips to yours. Joe groaned when your tongue slipped past his lips, rolling over his, her nails gently scratching the nape of his neck. You weren’t concerned about whether he was attracted to you anymore because you could feel the evidence of that pressing against your belly. You pulled back, just barely, saying, “Why don’t you let me show just you how fucking sexy I think you are.”

“Yeah?” he whispered and there was that little cocky smirk you loved so much. 

“Oh yeah.” 

You shoved him back onto the couch, dropping to your knees. Joe watched with dark eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly in anticipation of what you were about to do. You held his gaze as you undid his jeans and he raised his hips so you could slide them down. As you pulled on his boxers, his rigid member sprang free, smacking against his stomach, hard and at attention as if it was just waiting for you. 

“Every goddamn inch of you is perfection, Joe.” 

“You really think so, love?” he asked quietly, fingers moving through your hair before tightening, pulling it just enough that your scalp was tingling.

“I don’t think so. I know so.”

You gripped his cock in your hand, your fist moving along his length and he groaned, eyes slipping closed. You continued working him with your hand, appreciating all the little sounds of pleasure that fell from his lips. Fuck, nothing turned you on quite as much as knowing the power you had to make him lose all control. You could already feel how wet you were between your thighs and you hadn’t even done much yet. 

A little bead of precum appeared on the tip of Joe’s cock, and you leaned forward, your tongue flicking over the slit, collecting it. He hissed, fingers tightening in your hair and you gasped at the sharp bite of pain it left behind. Running the flat of your tongue along the underside of his length, following the vein there, Joe whimpered, head falling back against the couch. Your poor boy. It had been far too long since he’d let you take care of him and you had every intention of remedying that situation. 

“Fuck, I love this cock so much,” you purred, one hand holding the base as your tongue explored every inch. You nibbled the flesh gently and he grunted, hips bucking up. You knew what he wanted but you were enjoying making him wait for it. “It’s so thick and it fits me so well. It’s a goddamn work of art, Joe.”

You’d remind him every fucking day how perfect he was if you had to. How could your beautiful Joe think he was anything less? You hated those people who had made him doubt himself. He was the sexiest goddamn man you’d ever seen and you would make damn sure he knew it. 

“Jesus Christ, darling,” he panted, his hand trying to move you where he wanted you but you were resisting him. “You’re driving me bloody crazy. Just take it, love…put my cock in that pretty little mouth. Come on…”

“You mean like this?”

Your eyes held his as you wrapped your lips around him, taking his cock fully in until he was scratching the back of your throat. You gagged and pulled off slightly. Working to relax your throat, you swallowed him down again, this time successfully.

“Fuck me…” he groaned, fingers going lax in your hair as he lost all ability to function at the feel of your mouth fucking him, your tongue swirling around and flicking the tip, your teeth gently scraping the sides just enough to drive him out of his mind. You knew exactly what Joe liked. You were an expert in what got him off. 

Your free hand came up to cradle his balls. You pulled at them gently and he roared with pleasure, hips bucking up, sending his cock straight to the back of your throat again but you didn’t stop. You rolled them in your palm, all the while tormenting him with your mouth. That hand found its way into your hair again, pressing you down against his cock until his coarse hair was tickling your nose. 

“Bloody hell…I’m not gonna…shit…beautiful, if you don’t stop…”

You were not stopping. You had gone into this with the intention of worshiping this man like the deity he was. You weren’t stopping until he had no doubt how amazing, how beautiful, how perfect he was. You wouldn’t stop until he knew there was nothing that would ever make you not attracted to him. He was everything. 

“Fuck!” His hand pressed against the back of your head, holding your mouth against him as he bucked up into you and his release filled it. You kept your lips wrapped around as his cock twitched, until you were sure you had collected every last drop. 

Sitting back on your heels, you swallowed him down, running your finger along your lip to collect the drips and then sliding it into your mouth with a smile. Joe watched you, eyes heavy lidded, spent, but you were not done with him. 

Rising to your feet, you slid your panties down your legs slowly, tossing them into the corner. Then you straddled his lap, one knee on either side of his thighs. You grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head, sending it the same way as your panties. 

“You are beautiful, Joe,” you told him, running your fingers over his chest, his stomach. “I love every single part of you. There is nothing about you that I would change and even if it does change, I don’t care because I love you.”

Your tongue slid down his neck, eliciting a guttural groan from him and you kept going. Slipping back down his body, your lips moved over his collarbone, his chest, pausing to take one of his nipples between your teeth. 

“Shit, love…” he whispered, hand coming to cradle the back of your head, but this time gently, lovingly. “You really mean all of that?”

“Every single word,” you assured him, tongue slipping down his stomach, dipping into his navel. 

His hands gripped your arms, pulling you back up to him and his lips found yours. This kiss was different. It was filled with all the doubt he’d been feeling and the relief he now felt. It was filled with all the love and desire he had for you. It was filled with his gratefulness that you saw him for him, not as some commodity to be commented on like he belonged to anyone but himself. 

“I fucking love you so much, do you know?” he asked, palm cupping your cheek gently. 

“I know.”

“You are so damn good to me, darling. I want to be good to you, too.”

“You already are,” you breathed, words whispered into his mouth as your tongue slid against his, your hips moving over him. 

You both moaned at the feel of his cock, already hard again, slipping through your slick. Jesus, you needed him so badly. It didn’t matter how many times you had him, you always needed Joe. 

“Need to be inside you, love,” he murmured between kisses, one hand on the back of your neck, the other on your hip. “Need to feel you, to be with you…completely.”

You reached between your bodies, gripping his cock in your hand and slowly lowered yourself over top of him. Your forehead fell against his as he filled you completely, finally getting what you’d been needing for days. It seemed he was too. You felt his muscles quiver under your hands as you gripped his arms and began moving against him. 

“Yes…you feel so fucking good…” he groaned, keeping you close as if he needed this connection and you were more than happy to give it to him. 

“So do you,” you whispered, using your grip on his arms as leverage as you lifted and lowered yourself over his sock painstakingly slow, relishing every single movement. “I love you, Joe. I love you so damn much. Baby, you are so damn sexy, so gorgeous. I am so lucky that you’re mine. And fuck, this cock is the only one I need for the rest of my life, the only one I want.”

“Well, good because I don’t plan on sharing,” he grunted, laughing softly, his arms coming around you, pressing your bodies together as if he could make you one being and in this moment, it kind of felt like that. 

You rolled your hips in a circle, keeping your foreheads pressed together, moaning every single time his cock hit you in that perfect place that sent sparks straight through you. You were like a firecracker ready to go off. Joe released his hold, leaning back against the couch, his hand slipping between you and then his thumb was on your clit, teasing it as it moved back and forth over it. 

“Wanna see you come first, darling,” he urged. “Want to take care of you like you did me.”

“Oh Jesus,” you groaned, leaning back, placing your hands on his knees, continuing to roll your hips. You were struggling to focus as Joe’s thumb sent you right to the ledge, ready to fall off at any moment. “Yes, baby. Just like that.”

“Yeah. That’s what my pretty girl likes, isn’t it?”

“Yes…Joe…Jesus!”

Your hands gripped his knees, back arching as you didn’t just fall off the ledge, you plummeted, certain to shatter on impact. Joe’s hands grabbed you, pulling you back against him as he took control, hips thrusting up into you with a fury. He didn’t last long. Soon, he bellowed, fingers digging into your flesh, clutching you to him as he filled you again. 

Joe’s hands came up, smoothing the hair back from your face. Those massive hands held your jaw as he pressed gentle kisses to your forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, and finally your lips. You smiled, a lust drunk, completely satisfied smile. 

“Thank you,” Joe whispered, more soft kisses to your jaw and neck.

“For what?”

“For being you,” he said, cradling you to his chest as you rested your cheek against his shoulder. “I’m sorry for being so weird.”

“Baby, it’s okay. You don’t think I get in my own head sometimes and think awful things about myself? We all do, but please don’t let what complete strangers have to say ever make you doubt yourself. And definitely don’t let it make you doubt how I feel about you. I love you always. I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you forever no matter what changes your body goes through.”

“You’re amazing.”

“You’re amazing,” you giggled, nuzzling his neck. 

“Can we just stay like this for a while?” he asked. “I’ve fucking missed this.”

“We can stay like this for as long as you want,” you replied, snuggling into him, happy to have your Joe back to his usual self and determined to always build him up so none of those assholes could ever tear him down again.

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn stranger things #joe quinn smut #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn x reader #chocolate button eyes #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fluff

[felidrae]

Theory on Cesare’s redemption arc

Worthikids is a big fan of references & in Bigtop most notably it’s shown in the character Cesare.

If your unfamiliar he is based off the character Cesare, a hypnotized man who the Doctor (Dr. Caligari) claims to see the future, in “The Ballad of Dr. Caligari”. The silent horror film (made in Germany, 1920) is about two male friends Francis and Alen attending a Carnival where they encounter Dr. Caligari & his somnambulist Cesare. Alen asks the hypnosised man when he will die to which Cesare proclaims tomorrow, the next day Alen is found dead making Cesare the prime suspect & chaos ensues; It’s later revealed that Cesare doesn’t see the future but simply follows the orders of Dr.Caligari. The Zomburger Crew also have little Easter eggs regarding the film: Frances is Francis, Doctor is Alen(& his custome is a portray to Dr. Caligari) and Conrad is the name of Cesare’s actor Conrad Veidt.

Now you may ask, what does all this have to do with Cesare’s possible redemption? Interestingly enough if you look into the symbolism of the film it reveals hinted roots of Cesare’s character/story.

Cesare is arguably a solider, a nobody in a long line of nobody’s that’ll watch the World til the end of time & doesn’t question Upper Management as seen in “UP” (“I don’t control who they think is a menace”); When he is finished his position will be quickly replaced by someone else. His character arc, unlike his film counterpart, will be one where instead of mindlessly following orders he will revolt against his superiors.

However that now begs the question how will this happen?

Back to the Zomburger crew, their names having references to the film hints that they will also play a part in Cesare’s redemption arc. As I’ve stated before, Cesare has a hidden soft spot for the Zomburger crew, more so Doctor (Allen), though he denies it to even himself so there will be no strings attached & It’s already been shown that Doctor (Allen) is Cesare’s Morality Pet trope; unlike his film’s counterpart who is immediately killed off by film Cesare by the orders of Dr. Caligarli.

Cesare’s job is one where they watch over the Earth from “menaces” & presumably do not want them nor their mission to be known in the living public eye; now that 6 living humans know the existence of two SEPARATE entities as well as magic it’s not hard to consider that upper management wouldn’t be pleased keeping these loose ends alive. They are now menaces to the secrecy of the underground organization.

Prediction: Cesare will be ordered to cut off these loose ends himself or overhear someone else will do so; this will cause him to spiral into a moral crisis. He will realize he cannot follow/allow the order to go through & will most likely team up w/ Steve since his own crew will be in jeopardy also; freeing him from his cell.

This will correlate with how in the the film Cesare falls in love with Francis’s wife & is unable to follow through with his order to kill her- kidnapping her & running away until he’s too tired to run anymore.

#bigtop burger cesare #bigtop burger spoilers #bigtop burger doctor #bigtop burger conrad #bigtop burger frances #bigtop burger billie #bigtop burger penny #bigtop burger steve #bigtop burger tim #bigtop burger

[darkwaltz-blog]

Hello! Could you write allies with a girlfriend, who is easily aroused and has a lot of sexual desire?

ALLIES X S/O WITH A LOT OF SEXUAL DESIRE.

Warning: +18 content.

Sorry for the slow updates, I've been a bit busy the last few weeks. But I'm finally here again! ^^

Arthur Kirkland [England]

He's too proud to admit it, but he loves the idea that his S/O is always craving his touch, somehow it makes him feel wanted and boosts his ego.

Arthur has quite a few fantasies and hidden desires, but due to how busy he is, he never pays enough attention to them. An S/O with a high libido helps him a lot to be himself sexually. In the depths of the mind of the distinguished English gentleman, there is an evil being who enjoys subjecting his partner to punishment and obedience games.

If his partner tries to provoke him in public, Arthur blushes terribly as he quietly scolds her to stop. From there, your partner has two paths to choose from:

-If you stop, he will thank you and gently take your hand and place it in his lap.

-If you continue, prepare to be punished when you get home, suffering from the denial of your orgasm while your sadistic boyfriend insults you with the dirtiest language you have ever heard.

Francis Bonnefoy [France]

Francis would love to have a partner who is easily aroused. He knows how to show his love in different ways, but his preferred love language will always be physical.

He is a great connoisseur in sexual matters, he is a know-it-all who will always be above his partner in this regard.

He is a fan of communication. Since before starting the relationship, he has had a conversation with his partner where limits are set. He hates making his partner uncomfortable.

He loves when his partner is the one who initiates the intimate moments, the feeling of being needed turns him on instantly.

He is aware of how easy it is to stimulate his S/O, he loves to tease her with naughty comments or touches, and as soon as she gets turned on, Francis ignores her for a moment just to see her necessary reaction.

If his partner can't speak French, he whispers obscenities in his mother tongue just because he likes to see his S/O's confused face.

Alfred F. Jones [America]

Alfred doesn't have that high a sex drive, but he wouldn't mind having a partner who does. He loves physical contact, and he is someone with a lot of energy, and he shows it a lot in sex.

This boy is usually quite unaware of what is happening around him, most of the time his partner must be very direct with him and tell him what he wants.

He would enjoy watching his partner slip between his legs while he plays video games. He loves it when his S/O surprises him at random times and shows how much he wants his attention.

Alfred is usually very careless with his partner, he doesn't realize that traveling from one place to another doing different things takes him away from his affective responsibilities. His partner should have a talk where she discusses her main needs that she wants to be satisfied by him. It is best to be clear with Alfred if you want to get anywhere.

Ivan Braginski [Russia]

Ivan is very nervous about having an S/O with a huge sexual appetite. He is quite naive in this type of subject, but he works hard to reach the same level of experience as his partner. He is someone who learns fast.

This man is hungry for affection, he doesn't care if the only way to receive it is sexually.

Ivan is someone with a lot of insecurities. There are times when his mind fills with pessimistic thoughts that discourage him and make him paranoid: "If I always do the same thing with her, will she get bored with me?", "If I don't spend the time she wants, will she get someone else?", "does she love me or just wants me to have sex?"

Despite everything, he is someone quite accommodating, his partner only needs to tell him that she is eager to be touched, and he will devote his full attention to her.

He is extremely bad at understanding hints and double meanings. If one day his partner sits on his lap and starts kissing him (with obvious intentions of having sex), Ivan will think that his S/O just wants a cuddle and kiss session; he will limit himself to that unless his beloved tells him what she wants.

Matthew Williams [Canada]

Matthew is grateful to have a partner with a high sexual desire. Many people may see him as disinterested in such matters, but he has so many desires that he is eager to let it flow only with the person he loves.

He may seem like an innocent person, but once his partner gives him notice of how much he wants to be touched, the introverted Canadian turns into a complete stranger who won't stop until he takes her lover's breath away.

His stamina for sex is impressive, and this is even more evident when he receives praise from his partner. She just needs to tell him what a good boy he is, to get him turned on again. He lives for praise!

He loves that his partner is able to be easily aroused as he is too and is always in the mood to cater to his partner's sexual needs as well as himself. He doesn't mind that this happens in the least appropriate places, since he is not ashamed to freely express his sexual life.

Yao Wang [China]

Yao has been in existence for quite a few years, he has run into countless people. Meeting someone with a high libido would not be a surprise to him, however, it would still take work tailored to a relationship with such a partner.

He would have a lot of trouble adjusting to a relationship where his partner has a large sexual appetite. This man has lived for a long time, and many of the old customs have inadvertently stayed with him, based on that, Yao makes clear to his mistress certain conditions such as limiting any sexual proposals to the bedroom.

Yao is often embarrassed by many things, and her partner's continual sexual advances are included.

He's a fan of cute things, and seeing his darling blushing and panting under him is one of the most adorable sights he's ever seen, he tries so hard not to break down seeing his partner in that state.

#hetalia allies #hetalia axis powers #hetalia #hetalia x reader #america x reader #russia x reader #england x reader #france x reader #china x reader #canada x reader #matthew williams #francis bonnefoy #ivan braginsky #yao wang #alfred f jones #arthur kirkland #hetalia headcanons

[a-linearis]

do you know what else is an experience?

alice oseman books.

oh my days

I first read Loveless last year because it was the first book ever I saw about an aroace person finding their identity, and as a new minted a-spec person, I was like "HUH WHAT IS THIS I WANT TO READ THIS"

Then, someone in one of my classes was like "you will now be invested in the osemanverse as much as I am". And here I am ig

Radio Silence? Finished in two days, I have an intense hatred for Carol Best and Raine is the bestest person ever. Francis is a tad bit too relatable haha

Solitaire? WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HECK?? how does someone conceive that story in their MIND??? Tori and Michael and just all of their little moments and Solitaire and Michael skating and the concert and the school burning and oml. I didn't sleep, I just had to finish it. There was like, a deep emptiness I felt after reading it.

I was born for this? Beautiful examination of stan culture imo. ALSO LISTER??? ROWAN?? BLISS??? JIMMY?? just everyone. it just kept on getting crazier and crazier and the symbolism of names and objects and I just- I just- AND LISTER AT THE END GIVING ME A HEART ATTACK LIKE THAT

Damn. It's so just so cool. i just love the a-spec rep that is slipped in so seamlessly, and how platonic relationships are put at the forefront of stories, it's really refreshing. Sometimes I found myself going "this part is weird, I don't agree with the main character/what they're doing" and it was SO INTERESTING. It made me want to continue reading???

I haven't read Heartstopper though, should I? The fandom seems really large and energetic!

Alice Oseman is an extremely good writer! I'd love to meet her/own some of her books that I've read.

Here ends my Osemanverse appreciation rant haha

#osemanverse #alice oseman #rambles #i was born for this #solitaire #radio silence #loveless #heartstopper #frances janvier #i think i have a thing for carys last #tori spring #iwbft #jimmy kaga ricci

[heartstopper-tword]

Prompt #33 for N & C ler/lee please

A/N: hi anon! ty for the prompt :) hope you enjoy!

if you want to send me prompts to my inbox you can find the list here!

Prompt #33: "Oh? You want me to tickle you that badly?"

Missing You Making Me Laugh

Two weeks away from each other was enough.

Charlie had known Nick was going on holiday with his family well in advance. Nick had told him about his family's tradition of traveling to Menorca every year to get together with the rest of his extended family, and how one day he wanted to take Charlie with him. Even a few hours apart from one another at school was agonizing for the both of them in general, so two weeks in different countries was absolute hell.

Luckily, Nick had kept his promise of calling Charlie every night to talk to him, checking in on his mental health back home and updating him about his cousins' antics around the vacation house. He'd send him pictures of the dogs together, him and other relatives, and so on, but Charlie still felt lonely without the older boy next to him.

He wasn't afraid to let his boyfriend know how he felt when he'd call, and every time Nick would answer with, "I know, I miss you too. It's only a few more days and I'll be back." Then he'd give him that classic, charming Nick Nelson smile that always stole Charlie's heart.

It wasn't just Nick's company Charlie was missing. It was something else. Something that made Charlie blush whenever he thought about it, giddiness and nerves overtaking him on the inside.

Charlie was known by his friends to be extremely ticklish. He, Tao, Elle, and Isaac had had their fair share of tickle fights and ambushes, and for as long as he could remember, Charlie very nearly was always being ganged up on. He couldn't help it, of course. He'd always been a walking tickle spot since he was little, Tori taking advantage of it as her duty of being the older sibling. It was something he'd tried and obviously had failed at hiding from Nick once they began dating, more out of embarrassment than anything.

When Nick had figured out Charlie's ticklishness, he'd gushed about how adorable he found it and that it just added to one of the things he loved best about him.

Charlie had been extremely embarrassed at first, but slowly became comfortable with the fact that Nick wasn't weirded out by him. In fact, Nick tickled him at almost every chance he got, almost anywhere they were. It made Charlie feel overjoyed by the fact that someone wasn't afraid to be physically affectionate with him, even if it meant being at the receiving end of it all.

But now, Charlie almost felt starved by this absence. He didn't have Nick whispering teases into his ear as he held him close against his chest. He didn't have him chasing him around his house and cornering him before tickling him into hysterics. He missed Nick's goofy self whenever he got into his moods, and he wanted it more than anything. And he needed that now.

He was currently sitting at his desk in his bedroom, on one of his daily calls with his boyfriend. The sun was setting through the window, and Charlie knew he didn't have much time until he needed to get ready to head off to bed. He could hear Nick talking about his afternoon, helping to babysit the younger of his cousins, but he wasn't truly listening. His thoughts kept going to that one specific thing he had on his mind all day.

"Charlie?" On the screen, Nick's face was filled with concern, his head tilted slightly. "What's wrong? You look all flushed."

Charlie cleared his throat, "I-I'm fine." Then as an afterthought, "Sorry."

"No," Nick shook his head, his eyes narrowing. "No S-words from you, sir. I thought we banned that word for good."

Charlie bit his lip, his heart racing in his chest. "Oh yeah, I forgot. Sorry."

Nick wasn't oblivious. He could see the beginning of that cheeky smirk even through the screen of his phone.

"Charles Francis Spring," He said slowly, causing Charlie to shiver in his chair, "Are you purposely trying to rile me up right now?"

Charlie felt like his whole being was on fire from how hard he was blushing. Even through the phone screen he couldn't look Nick in the eye.

"Talk to me. What are you thinking in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I-I-" the younger swallowed, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He knew Nick had caught on to what he wanted. Of course he had. Nick could read Charlie like an open book. It felt like he was right there in his bedroom with him.

"Is there something you want from me?" Nick couldn't help his own smirk from appearing on his face, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend teasingly.

"Stooop," Charlie whined, covering his face with his hands, a nervous giggle escaping his lips.

"I'm just asking a question!" Nick laughed, and Charlie shook his head, still hiding his face. After a moment of silence, Nick leaned in a little. "Charlieee..."

"Do I have to say it?" Charlie asked, finally peaking through his fingers at his boyfriend and trying not to combust.

"I'd love to hear it."

They kept their eyes locked with one another, both of them grinning like idiots. Finally, Charlie let out a long sigh, looking down at his hands.

"I- I want you to..." His voice was barely audible, and Nick chuckled as he trailed off. "What? I'm sorry, you want me to...?"

"You know what." Charlie said playfully exasperated, and Nick crossed his arms over his chest, remaining silent.

Charlie's leg was bouncing under his desk, and he let out another sigh, squirming in his seat. "Iwantyoutotickleme."

"Again?"

He rolled his eyes. "I want you to... tickle me."

"And it finally comes out." Nick leaned back again in his chair, looking at his boyfriend smugly.

"Shut up."

"Oh? You want me to tickle you that badly? You miss me teasing you and playing with you? You miss me making you laugh so hard you can barely breathe? You miss me making you all flustered to the point you can't speak in complete sentences?"

"Shut up!" Charlie squealed, closing his eyes as nervous giggles began pouring out of his mouth. He could almost feel the sensation of Nick poking at him playfully, and it was driving him nuts.

"Oh Char, just you wait until I get back. Because I miss it too. I've nearly gone insane without hearing your adorable laughter. I miss seeing you squirm underneath me. So as soon as I get home, you better be ready. We'll have to make sure my mum isn't home. She'll think I'm murdering you."

"Nicholas, I will hang up on you." Charlie threatened, though by the tone of his voice, Nick knew he wasn't serious. However, he decided to egg him on once more. "Go ahead. That'll just seal your fate even more."

"Ugh, stop!" Charlie grabbed his phone, both boys laughing at this point. "You're impossible!"

"Okay, okay." Nick raised his hands, finally relenting. "You're just too cute to not tease you."

Charlie scoffed, moving to his bed and falling onto his back, his phone raised above him. "You're a menace, you know that?"

"Oh, I know." Nick winked, and Charlie felt his heart flutter in his chest. "Anyways, I have to get going. My family's going to be eating dinner soon. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Okay." Charlie felt slightly disappointed. He always hated hanging up with Nick at the end of a call.

Nick must've sensed his change of moods, and his expression softened. "Only a few more days, mon amour." He whispered, and Charlie nodded.

"Only a few more days."

#heartstopper #heartstopper tickle #heartstopper tickle fic #netflix #lgbtq #charlie spring #nick nelson #ler!nick #lee!charlie #teasing #gay #bisexual

[ginevralinton]

One way Thomas's death could be worse is if it was revealed that Francis later became a successful poet - not so well known that Alison or Mike (or even Fanny, Cap, Pat or Julian) would have heard of him, but successful enough in his time.

Except, this is Francis.

Turns out he'd actually found (or been given) Thomas's drafts and in progress/unpublished manuscripts, and subsequently picked out the best bits, refined some of the poems, whittled them down, merged some of them together - essentially edited them into a more 'publishable', more 'appealing' format.

(I'm sure there's something to be said here about the parallels to Francis rewriting and shaping the narrative of Thomas's fate in The Thomas Thorne Affair, but I digress)

Anyhow, maybe all is revealed when someone comes to Button House because they're doing a research project or a PhD on obscure 19th century poets. Or maybe, they're looking at the developments and origins of 'found poetry' and scholarship around Francis Button has indicated he might have borrowed a bit from his dead cousin's journals and manuscripts.

And Thomas is devastated - because Francis has supplanted him in yet another space that meant so much to him. And people either Francis is getting all the credit for what, at heart, are still Thomas's poems - still his words. Or, it's not being treated as a theft or as anything sad, but rather, as something that's interesting, something to be studied, theorised and written about in an academic context.

'At least people are reading it', might be said. 'He's made it more bearable' could also be added in. 'At least we know you wrote it really' might be offered, but - what can Thomas do?

I don't know - do with this what you will

EDIT: a workshop of filthy creation (5173 words) by Sheepyblue (I did this, but again, anyone else can do their thing with it)

(the only upside (?) of the latter reveal is that thomas essentially discovers found poetry and decides it is therefore absolutely legitimate to make poetry out of combining kylie minogue with the smiths, interspersed with his lines of his own:

in my life, why did I give valuable time

to people who didn't care if I lived or died?

o', in my death, why must i spend my time

with people who don't care how i might have lived?

o' but at least i still have my dreams because in my dreaming

you fell in love with me like I'm in love with you

but dreaming's all I can do, if only they'd come true

but I've been in the house too long now,

o' if only I had fled, back when I still could,

where might I be now?)

i'm so sorry

#bbc ghosts #thomas thorne #idk