#i jest but my art skills are really not good at all

[coffinsister]

May I offer this as a request? The top panel is Ashley, and the bottom panel is Andrew.

Well you didn't specify you wanted a drawing

#also i made this on my new laptop yay first thing i make on it exciting #jkwjw #sorry btw I really did try to draw it but it got way too hard way too quick #i jest but my art skills are really not good at all #the coffin of andy and leyley #ashley graves #andrew graves #soleil asks

[slavicdollie]

My bestfriends brother ⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Summary: Things don't go as planned when your close friend invites you to watch the new Johnny Cage movie.

Notes: Post-mk1 story and Bi-hans betrayal never happened. AFAB reader isn't one of earthrealms champions just a cool girl Tomas started to become friends.

Content Warnings:NSFW, dub-con fingerbang, small temperature play ,female masturbation.

Chinese culture was a beautiful sight but she still loathed her father for moving here, leaving behind her old friends and memories. She struggled to learn the language and felt outcasted amongst her peers all but one, a silver haired man named Tomas the same age as her. He knew what it felt like to be different from everyone else. A friendship began to spark between the two of them sharing stories of the past and present. Tomas was a good listener and sometimes she just needed to get things off her chest.

It had taken a lot of convincing to allow her at the fire temple Kuai liang was content with her visiting considering she looked as if she had never fought in her life, she put an end to that assumption when showing off her meteor hammer skills,she had shown interest in martial arts from a young age. Both Kuai Liang and Tomas looked impressed they had never seen a warrior move so beautifully and Tomas was practically drooling.

Bi-han however was not too fond of having a stranger enter their home let alone train with her brothers whilst not being lin kuei.

"I promise I am not a threat Grandmaster I simply enjoy the company of Tomas and practicing how to use my meteor hammer in a professional sense." Tomas felt his heart race at her statement.

Bi-han only grunted a popular gesture of his," You are no lin kuei do not presume to address me as Grandmaster." As he walked away stoicly, she began to admire him his handsome face and hot physique could not go unnoticed.

She became more comfortable around Tomas even making jests about wanting to fuck his brother, "Yeah I'd totally freeze my tongue on Bi-han's flag pole" Tomas laughed awkwardly hiding how uncomfortable he was and he looked almost...hurt?

She found herself becoming more comfortable around the lin kuei trio kuai liang appreciated her fire puns but Bi-han only shot her deathly glares.

"Are you ready to have your mind blown?" Tomas asked with a stupid grin he was excited to be apart of Johnny cage's new movie even if someone else was casted he was interested on how they would portray him. "Didn't know ninjas were allowed TV's" actually Tomas and Johnny had convinced Bi-han to install one.

Tomas and Y/n sat on the soft couch sharing popcorn. Tomas was blushing due to how close her leg were to his,she was wearing a skirt but he knew not to look at it she'd probably think he was some kind pervert and never want to speak to him again. Their faces were glued to the screen until interrupted by a deep voice. "What are you two morons doing?" Tomas jumped at the sound of Bi-hans voice but Y/n just smiled and replied "Watching the movie about you guys, the guy Johnny got to play you really captures your essence" The actor had been grumpy and mascular just like Bi-han.

Bi-han let out an annoyed grunt,"I told Cage our victory is not for entertainment" although he disproved of the movie being made he still wanted to see what the fuss was all about, motioning for Tomas to move up now sitting in the middle, between his adopted brother and his friend who he found to be alluring.

Bi-han removed the popcorn from her lap and gave it to Tomas that may have been the kindest thing Bi-han had done for him yet his only intention was to get a view of Y/N's skirt. It was a black plaid skirt with a pink ribbon around the middle that was above knee length. 'Why is he staring at me' Y/n began to think while Tomas was too focused laughing at the movie. Bi-han stared at her as a predator stared at it's prey. She looked at him for a split second making eye contact only to quickly look down and play with her fingers which was a common thing for her to do when nervous.

This action only annoyed the cryomancer next to her causing him to pull her hands apart placing them on her sides. He turned to look at Tomas seeing him stuck on the screen like a kid at a candy store, Bi-han rolled his eyes and looked back to the girl next to him. He begun rubbing his rough hands on her gentle thighs. His hands were cold she shivered at his touch. He put a lock of her hair behind her ear almost as a way to reassure her everything was going to be okay.

She subconsciously started rocking her hips and he slowly started to put his hand under her skirt reaching her cotton panties. Pushing her panties to the side and entering two fingers in her slit while she parted her legs, turning to look at Tomas who was oblivious to what was going on. The ninja used his cryomancer abilities to form solid ice on his fingertips. She whimpered softly at that, quickly covering her mouth to prevent Tomas from looking over. Bi-han started moving his fingers in and out of her wet pussy. She wanted to moan and tell him to fuck her right now,who cares if Tomas was there. She was a blushing and sweating mess Bi-han wanted to make fun of her for her reaction but did not want to draw attention to it.

Thank the elder gods for the volume of the TV or else Tomas would be hearing the sound of his friend's pussy as she was getting fingerbanged by his older brother. The finger fucking went from slow and gentle to rough and fast tears started to form from the inner corners of her eyes,Bi-han noticed this and wiped them away and started going slower and she tried to keep in her moans with her hand. She was about to cum and accidentally removed her hand from her mouth,"AAAERR THAT WAS A GOOD FIGHT SCENE" she tried to play her orgasm off as a reaction to the film. Bi-han smirked and Tomas only said "I know right!" not judging her reaction. Bi-han grabbed the popcorn bowl from Tomas and giving it to the girl he just dispoiled. His fingers were still covered in her juices she opened her mouth to put the popcorn in her mouth but instead was greeted with bi-hans jizzed covered fingers shoved in her mouth she need not be told what to do and started sucking her mess from his rough fingers.

She had completely forgotten the plot of the movie she was watching and only shooting smiles at Bi-han and wondering what other parts of his body are cold. After the movie, Tomas got up and offered Y/N to stay for dinner. "You know it's pretty late I should get going home." She refused awkwardly. "Did you enjoy the movie?" Bi-han asked with an unreadable expression.Tomas was taken aback since when does Bi-han care about the opinion of others especially on irrelevant things like a movie directed by Johnny but the girl about to leave knew he was not referring to the movie,"it was nice...I've never experienced something like that before" she smiled at him. Tomas offered to walk her home but she needed to be alone and given time to think.

'Did that really just happen??The always angry dude just fingered me while he was sitting next to his brother!!???' The whole scene felt like it came out of a bad porno. When she arrived home she went to straight to bed staring at her ceiling contemplating if this was a dream or if it actually happend. 'Of course it happend Y/N' she slightly hit herself on the head. Her mind begun to wander again thinking of Bi-han how he smirked at her after her release how good his fingers felt inside of her. She put her hands inside her underwear and tried to recreate Bi-hans movements her hands weren't as cold as his but you have to work with what you've got.

The skirt:

#bi han x reader #bi han sub zero #bi han #johnny cage #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat x reader #tomas vrbada #smoke #bi han smut

[sicsidsimp666]

The End, So Far Album Review

Hello. It's Toad. And this post is all about the new album that Slipknot put out and my thoughts live time while listening to it. This means that they are unfiltered. That being said please understand that I am thankful they shared their art with us yet again, and a review is merely my own opinion of how the music made me feel and my experience while listening to it. 

It's not an argumentative point nor do I wish to have a Socratic seminar on the internet. Spoiler Toad’s real personality is not Ben Shapiro so I don't really enjoy having frivolous little scuffles with people who I am largely unacquainted with. I’m not sure I made a gain in life anytime that I engaged in an argument on the internet. 

However, I love sharing knowledge with others and conversing (and for those of you who don't know arguing and conversing/learning new views are not the same thing!!!). Okay now that I've attracted people who like to fight bahaha let's get on to the review :)

Adderall: (4/10)

Reminds me of a musical

Acid trip influenced?

I feel like I'm slightly in the 70s

Overall eh and seems out of place, but new styles are always a great idea

The Dying Song: (9/10)

Already knew this one was a banger

Angry. I am in love.

Great message

Still can't be early Slipknot tho, but that's okay that's why the other albums are recorded and can be listened to at any time. They don't need to be the same to still be Slipknot.

The Chapeltown Rag: (10/10)

God damn I love this song

Make hyper brain feel very happy

Message is also good

Sid doing work? Okayyyyy!

The fucking breakdown at 1:37 ughhh 😩 Yummy.

Corey's deep voice power here is really showcased 👀

Yen: (8/10)

Like the spooky/eerie video and vibes

The guitar goes hard

We love to see Rat's solo!

Corey's voice really be horny hours

Chorus is a banger

Overall song is good, a little repetitive is all.

Hive Mind: (8/10)

Very much so like the spooky start. I feel like a terminator invader alien

Okayyyy go get it Jim, Mick, and Alessandro!

We can hear Clown and his shiny keg. We love.

Jay's getting a workout, too

Alien sounds are banging

Love the energy and anger of the song. Reminiscent of young Slipknot.

Warranty: (4/10)

Okay right away has me pumped

We are still in a spaceship

Hmmm not really vibing with this one. Seems a little slapped together.

I feel meh. It didn't really capture my attention.

Medicine for the Dead: (3/10)

I'm in a Scooby-Doo episode where it is set in a swamp and there is something swimming in the water.

The tempo is nice and feels powerful and is very methodical.

Song really made me realize how Corey's singing style has changed and grown

I don't know if I like the up and down/soft and heavy style :/

Acidic: (2/10)

I can see Shawn put his ✨artiste✨ mind to work here with all the intros

Feels very sinister in the opening

God damnit Corey keeps normally singing and I wanna just hear anger 😂 but still at least it is new and fresh

The guitar solo tho. Who's getting their dick sucked??? 👀👀👀

Ending was sort of strange and gave 70's vibes again

Overall not a fan of the new style here.

Heirloom (1/10)

Okay Sid go off I guess

Corey if you don't start screaming so help me God. Good on you tho for calming down in life 😂

I just. Everyone else is amazing. Really upped their skill set. Corey. You are on thin ice [please know that toad understands how amazing Corey's skill set is, this comment is made in jest. Please relax].

Did they accidentally put a stone sour song on the Slipknot album? 😂 @in-death-we-fall @custer-mp3

H377: (9/10)

I'm not getting my hopes up even tho the intro is dope

Finally we have remembered our roots as a nu-metal band

Tempo? Chef's kiss! 🤌🏻

Can't wait to go off like a crack squirrel when this comes on

Corey could sound a little more. Like. Angry? I don't know, just not like Corey quite yet.

Great guitar work again

Amazing

De Sade: (4/10)

Great seamless carry-over into the next song.

Nice Jay spotlight for a little

Whatever Corey repeats is um. Interesting? Hahaha

We pick up tempo and energy in the middle

Lots of high-pitched guitar which isn't bad, just something newer

Very nice base playing ♥️

The drawn out guitar after "why" is smexy

The "stab stab stab" in the background of the end guitar solo was lowkey funny and made me think of: who let Sid in the recording booth lmao

Overall just meh towards it, not bad tho.

Finale: (5/10)

Okay so we got like a melody violin and piano fairy in a cave thing going on?

Building up slowly

I like the layers of the chorus

Monkeys "oooohahahaha" very uhhh unique?

Guitar and base at like ≈3:00 is nice

We got some opera.

Song seemed to have the tone of coming to an acceptance that wasn’t necessarily wanted. 

Melancholy?? 

It was a great statement piece. Not my style. 

Overall: (6/10)

Great they still put out music. 

Trying new styles is great, dont want it to be stale they just didn’t vibe with me which is fine

For me 50/50 love/hate the songs. 

Separate from Sone Sour for the most part, but definitely the most mixed that Slipknot has been with them and their style. 

Probably my least favorite album. 

Will continue to listen to it and see if it grows on me more. I initially didn’t like WANYK also so things tend to grow better on me over time. 

#Slipknot #The End So Far #album review #Toad Review #sid wilson #jay weinberg #alessandro venturella #tortilla man #Jim Root #Craig Jones #shawn crahan #Mick Thomson #Corey Taylor #0 #4 #5 #6 #7 #8

[mathcat7]

Morgana’s 2022 Year in Review

So, another year comes to a close. Lots of interesting developments, as always, and I like looking back and seeing what's changed and what I've succeeded with, and what I want to do over the next year.

The Successes

So for starters, I think the biggest boon has been me getting to spend shy of a month with my girlfriend over the course of the year. I love her so much, and I'm so glad we got to spend so much time together, and that we reached our first anniversary together.

Secondly, I closed the year off getting promoted to a full time position, a big step towards achieving self-sufficiency down the line. This was a big goal of mine for this year, and I'm very glad I was both able to achieve it, and that I've been able to use that for pushing forwards other things I enjoy.

The Surprises

This summer kicked off an FGC arc for me, where I used P4U2's rollback announcement and implementation to finally learn how to play fighting games. I didn't become impressive, by any means, but I had a lot of fun, and I was honestly satisfied with how quickly I was able to catch on. As a bonus, this also resurged my interest in making and editing videos, which eventually culminated in my clip compilation, A Very S'okay Persona.

Unfortunately, this was cut short by my going full-time, but I still cherish what I learned and how it's shaped my creative process going forward.

I commissioned quite a bunch of art pieces this year. Most of them were Fire Emblem fanart, especially for beloved best girl Mozu, but I also some original pieces for my recently designed online persona. Writing design docs for sending to commission artists was a nice process for clearing the rust from some of my writing skills, especially where descriptions are concerned.

My transition is still going smoothly. Medicine-wise I switched to needle monotherapy earlier this year and it's been generally better for me, at least from my perspective. (A lot less awkward planning to take pills around mealtime, a lot less in the way of unwanted side effects.) I got really into my voice training, to the point where I was consistently passing over phone calls!

I’ve been bouncing around a few of the modding sub-communities and ended up becoming a server blorbo. Okay I jest, but in all seriousness I’m glad I’ve been able to make some new friends online without it being predicated upon someone else’s preexisting dynamics. I’m glad to not be a friend of a friend this time! (Now if only that could extend to irl)

Of course, it's not all sunny. I've still been struggling with the transition not being properly acknowledged by the family, with those feelings being further exacerbated by attempts of doing an official coming out seemingly falling on deaf ears. I still have hangups about this iust becoming my cross to bear, but it's clear that there isn't much else I can do/say at this point. It sucks, but it's whatever, and at least now I can put my energy elsewhere.

The Plans

As for my goals for 2023, I'm still sticking to not making full on resolutions and instead keeping on general directions I want to work towards, as such:

- I wanna continue making videos. Maybe not FGC related, but I do wanna pivot my focus back to FE. I like Excelblem's format of video style, but I'm not someone with challenge run smarts. I think I'd rather do summations that would appeal more to casual players, and talk about the little parts of the games that I love. I'm hoping that Engage's release in 3 weeks is a good catalyst for this idea, although I'll have an uphill battle with my job.

- I want to devote more time to writing Royals of the Tempest. My writer's block has finally broken again, and I want to use the time I'm not actively working (or making videos) towards trying to get as much done with RotT as possible. There's a lot to get done, so I'm unsure if a manuscript would be ready in one year, but I'm hopeful about having most of it done down the line.

- I don't think moving out is something that'll happen soon, especially since I'm waiting on my girlfriend to finish up college, so my hope is to keep building up my nest egg so when that time comes, we can be prepared. I know I'm not in the best living space mentally speaking, but I think I can bide my time until then.

- Of course, I will make an exception towards commissions. I love commissioning art, and I do want to keep that up. I'm hoping to get to do some bigger ideas this time around, especially now that I have better integrated myself with some artist schedules.

- And lastly, I want to be bolder about myself. I've joked with some of my friends about the start of the slut arc, and while I'm not so inclined to cross the en-ess-eff-double-u line just yet, I am feeling more and more confident that I could try doing saucier stuff, or at the very least stop tip-toeing around stuff I've been holding back on. What that looks like remains to be seen, but I will let my friends now when and if that happens.

So, that’s all I had to ponder on. Hope you all have a wonderful 2023 and I hope to see you all again.

(Enjoy this pic of me trying to clear out the twists in my hair lmaoooooo)

#long post

[representshinjuku]

Final Battle

(Note: This song contains spoilers for track 3.)

[Sasara] Ready, [Rosho] Get set, [Rei] Go

[Dotsuitare Hompo] The showtime

[Sasara] Rhyme, [Rosho] Beats, [Rei] Flow

[Dotsuitare Hompo] Them’s all right

[Sasara] Lights, [Rosho] Camera, [Rei] Action

[Dotsuitare Hompo] Jump on it

[Sasara] Represent [Rei] Naniwa

[Dotsuitare Hompo] Osaka Division

[Sasara] Keep [Rei] smilin’ [Sasara] Respect

[Rosho] Honor and kindness

[Sasara] Bringin’ in the [Rosho] money? [Sasara] Slow ‘n steady [Rei] y’know

[Sasara] Tragic Comedy

[Rosho] WISDOM

[Rei] MasterMind

[Sasara] We are [Rei] Osaka

[Dotsuitare Hompo] Dotsuitare Hompo

[Sasara]

At-ten-tion! We’re assembled

You can’t keep shakin’ off this disease

Goin’ that far’s just no good

Your methods’ll never catch on

[Rosho]

Your counseling session starts now

Our lesson will end your life

[Rei]

Isn’t it hard to keep up the act?

If you’re going to swindle, run a better con

Danjyo: Believers! Gather at once with mics in hand! Eliminate the intruders! 

Kuko: Come at me, weaklings! 

[Kuko]

Weak, weak, nah, weak as shit

You’re nothin’ in front of my skill

Everybody come at me now

I’ll clean you up all at once

A swarm of small fry’s still flies

I’m not gonna save you either, dumbass

So shut up and polish your skills

And take this sermon to the afterlife

Danjyo: Damn this… What’s happening?

Sasara: Danjyo-han! Let’s have some fun!

Danjyo: Damn you…

Sasara: So you have a Mic too, Danjyo-han.

Rei: Careful. His is a real Hypnosis Mic. 

[Danjyo]

I guide people to sublime ideals

The unsympathetic will be purged

The likes of Osaka are trivial at best

Try all your life, you’ll never defeat me

If you approach like children on a field trip

It’s too late for regrets

Seize hold of destiny, the Spider’s Thread

That secret power comes now to fruition

Rosho: Damn it--

Rei: He’s not half-bad.

Danjyo: Don’t look down on me, you filthy snobs! Who do you think I am? I’m the man who will one day stand at the top of this country. I’m Oogumo Danjyo! 

Sasara: The top? Ahahaha, spare me. A country with Danjyo-han at the top doesn’t seem like any fun at all. 

[Sasara]

A guy like you who won’t put in the work

Can’t stand at the top, what a stale joke

[Rosho]

All people have their ups and downs

Crawling back up is what makes life shine

[Rei]

Cornering people with sweet nothings

Is a fine art that puts you to shame

[Sasara]

Now let’s peel off that sheep’s wool

The Itonokai will end a burnt-up lot

[Danjyo]

Silence! You uncultured snobs

Are far too simple to have opinions on me

I can’t stand to hear your jests,

Your optimistic make-believe

The Spider’s Thread will bring salvation

Unforeseen circumstances you can’t avert

But I will not relinquish my position

What can the likes of you ever understand?

[Rosho]

I’m still learning myself, 

But this I can say for certain

You, who steals away students’ dreams

Are absolutely in the wrong

Encouraging the youth

Is our adult’s role

[Sasara]

The party-crashing adults better take their leave

Isn’t that right? Danjyo-han?

Danjyo: You filthy snobs!

Sasara: Ah, stop! Damn, he got away. 

Haru: Oogumo… Danjyo…

Danjyo: Hm? Oh, it’s you! Splendid timing. This time, show me a true display of your faith! A group attempting to harm us has appeared. Eliminate those fools for us at once! What’s wrong? What are you doing? Eliminate those filthy snobs for the sake of my Society! 

Haru: No. I won’t. 

Danjyo: What was that? 

Haru: I... won’t... do what you tell me anymore! 

Danjyo: You intend to stray from the Thread’s guidance? 

Haru: I do.

[Danjyo]

Are you really fine with whatever might happen to your grandmother?

Thanks to us she’s still clinging to her one and only life

And yet your rebellious attitude will surely prove deadly

Should you really be choosing not to protect your precious person?

[Haru]

I was wrong. Wrong because I was weak

I was only thinking about who I could have protect me

But that’s not right. It took me a long time but I finally get it

You have to protect the things precious to you with your own two hands

My one and only Gramma, Hirorin, Ryota, my friends and family

I’ll protect them all, that’s why I’ll fight this battle

No matter what happens from now on I won’t let go of them

This isn’t where my road leads. I decide what to make of my life!

Danjyo: Damn you. I’ll have to eliminate you, first. 

Kuko: Well said! You truly fought, just now. Leave the rest to me. 

Danjyo: Who are you? One of that comedian’s friends? 

Kuko: Huh? Comedian? If you wanna laugh, then go do it in hell! ‘Cuz I’m about to give you one hell of a sermon! 

[Kuko]

Now I’ll show you the Sanzu River

This’s your last stand

Flowers of evil are the height of folly

And my rhymes make me King of Wisdom

This’s your fitting end, don’t fuck around

Hurry up and reform, put your hands up

I’ll show you some badass flow and rhyme

And cleanse your impure flesh

Danjyo: Damn it… I… I can’t lose here! 

Kuko: You’re a sore loser, old dude.

[Danjyo]

P-Please wait, overlook this

I simply can’t end here

No matter what I have to exact

My revenge on those woman

You understand, don’t you? The Party of Words

Stole away my status, my prestige, even my family--

Because of them I lost everything

You’re the same, aren’t you?

Don’t you hate the Party of Words?

My revenge is for the sake of all those this country is oppressing 

That’s right, won’t you join me?

Let us save this twisted world

My desires have piled up across the years

And now I’ll teach them to all the world

[Kuko]

Shut the fuck up, stupid old man

You can’t even beg for your life right

Hate the sin, not the sinner

Revenge isn’t gonna save anyone

But for the persistent

Spineless you, there’s no salvation

I’m putting some serious power in this last kick

I’m dropping you into Hell’s Pond of Blood

#rule the stage #track 3 #dotsuitare hompo #oogumo danjyo #takanashi haru #harai kuko #final battle #hypstagetl #koutranslates

[myjustice]

"A little presentation never does harm, least, this is how I feel whenever I get to work my hobbys in the the city sides." Thoma mentions with a gentle laugh as the current dwelling they momentarily inhabit holds quite the luxurious scent. He felt particularly giving in lieu of their growing bond. After learning about their affinity for sweets, destiny simply takes the wheel in what transpires next. Furina's patience would be rewarded in what's displayed at the table for her. A staple Inazuman original known as Tricolor Dango would be set, three rows of them offered, practically glistening due to the level of care he settled into them. It doesn't end there either, a cup of hot cocoa was settled by the dishes side. Warm and practically begging to be sampled. Not to mention that there's a small gift upon its surface, a Rainbow Rose carefully made through the technique of foam art. Thoma couldn't help looking a little bashful and a little proud all the same. "Here, after such a long week you had. With how highly you speak of Fontaine, figured you'd like a little spin of home with your snack too."

furina was pleasantly surprised to find that thoma seemed to enjoy to cook. she found herself sitting by her table with a leg crossed over the other, her chin propped against her gloved hand whilst her arms rested on the fine wood of where she had grown accustomed to eating alone. thoma busied himself in her little kitchenette & whatever it was that he was making, the mere scent of it had already made its way over to furina & she could confidently confirm to herself that she was already a fan. the scent was sweet & oh how she loved her sweets. though his back was turned to her as he cooked away, she was listening, her mismatched ocean drops of blue looking towards him. ' you really didn't have to do this, but i appreciate it, thank you. ' she truly did. her cooking had gotten better, but she wasn't about to turn down somebody wanting to cook for her instead, not only was it something she believed to be rude to do so, but she missed being cooked for.

she would be lying if she said she wasn't curious to see what thoma could dish up though, so that had her at the edge of her seat.

thoma was a lovely guy, she enjoyed his company, it was difficult not to smile around him, but she thought that to be a good thing & not something bad.

when her treats were done & set on the table she was pleasantly surprised by the presentation of them, the mere sight of them would make even a person who thought they have had their fill for the day water out of hunger. these were inazumen cuisines then? it would be an understatement to say that she was excited to try them out.

' oh? ' her attention, once seduced by his food, had now gone straight to him with his words, an air of mischief about her. ' my, oh my, if i didn't know any better it's almost like you're trying to impress me. ' she merely teased, a little jest if he was going to remain insistent on living that door open for her. how could she possibly refuse the blaring invitation? ' a man after my own heart, dare i say. ' she pushed, though truly she really was impressed. touched by this gesture of his. it must be part of his language, how endearing. perhaps she too would return the gesture & cook for him one of these days...w-when she felt more confident in that particular skill of hers of course. she was still perfecting it at the moment.

' hmm ' furina hummed & took hold of one of the tricolor dango. with a fork she poked at one of the absolutely delectable looking treats at the very end of its stick & slid it out. ' but you know, if the chef isn't satisfied with the first bite how could they possibly hope to satisfy the person they're serving it to? ' her question was rhetorical at best, she wasn't expecting him to answer it because the regina was not looking for an answer, she was simply giving him context. ' thus, as the chef, you will have the first bite & tell me what you think before i consume anything. ' she looked right at him, expecting him to do as she said.

' now come, say ahh. ' she held out the treat on her fork to him, her intention clear: she was going to feed it to him. this was not a request, but a demand from yours truly.

@scarletooyoroi

#scarletooyoroi #&. main. ( i'm tired... ) #i'm sorry thoma #furina couldn't resist haha #this is so cute thank you!~

[chisakiglove]

Gallery (Overhaul x Artist!Reader):

Going out on his own at night was a rare occurence for Overhaul. In truth, he was really only doing it as a way of avoiding the work that was waiting for him back at headquarters. It was a childish way of ignoring his responsibilites, but he had to escape every-now-and-then.

The apprehensive villain measured himself a fair distance from the pedrestrians lousying around him. He continued to doubt his decision of leaving the car at home. He had forgotten the discomfort of walking among such disgusting human beings, but little could be helped in his current situation.

Overhaul had a difficult time choosing where to spend his evening. He had already eaten supper, so going to restaurant served him no interest. Sightseeing? There was nothing worth looking at in this miserable city. Although he did like watching the koi fish in the botanical gardens sometimes. It wasn't worth the walk, though. And travelling by train was the last thing on his mind. 'Maybe I should head back. What a waste.' As he was turning around, a bright, neon light hit his vision. The building itself stood at a mediocre height compared to its neighbors. However, something about it struck his interest. It was an art gallery.

He was surprised to see that it was rather clean inside. Not a speck of dust in sight, well, there might've been a few collecting on the old woman at the front desk. Damn, she would've had to be retired by now. "How can I help you, sir? Are you here for the art showcase?" her voice was soft and quiet. "Yes," he replied curtly. "It's on the second floor. I hope you have a lovely time. The artist is very talented," she informed with a wrinkled smile. Overhaul merely nodded and started up the stairs. Yes, the stairs.

There weren't as many people as he was expecting. There was a good bit of chatter, but it didn't distract from the ambience. The brunette loosened his tie the slightest bit and took the time to wander around. That woman was right. The artist certainly had some skill. Most of the paintings held a traditional Japanese style, while others were scenes of animals. He was genuinely impressed. Perhaps he'd meet them, not that Overhaul was interested in talking to anyone at the moment.

After a few minutes of browsing, he came across one painting in particular that made his brow raise. The canvas was smaller comapred to the other ones, though it looked better that way. It was a crow perching on a woman's forearm and its wings were stretched out wide. It was obvious why he liked it so much. His entire organization was based off of birds, it was only natural for him to be attracted to it.

Overhaul's attention was suddenly stirred when a stranger joined him. He glanced at her, expecting her to move onto the next piece, but she seemed entranced by it as well. He etched away from her, still waiting for her to leave. His aggravation on deepened when she started talking. "I like this one too," she began. "It kind of looks like the relationship between life and death, don't you think?" He remained silent. The young head grimaced after hearing her giggle.

"You must be a big fan of birds, huh?" the woman jested, referring to his mask. "...You could say that," he uttered. He finally bothered facing her, which ended up with his jaw slackening. She was very beautiful; more elegant-looking than anything. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to tease. Your mask just looks very creative. Did you make it yourself?" For some reason, he didn't feel as opposed to conversation as he did earlier. "Yes, I did. It took quite a while to design.” She bubbled up in excitement and inspected his face piece closer. “Oh, I can see why! Not— that you’re a bad designer. I think it looks very steam-punk!” Her flamboyancy was becoming overwhelming, causing Overhaul to inch back another step or two.

“… You must be the artist,” was his conclusion. She froze up but quickly composed herself by tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What makes you think that?” she chuckled. The man scratched at his mask and thought a moment. “In my profession, I’ve met a lot of odd people. But you are by far the oddest.” To most it would’ve sounded like an insult. “Wow. You really think so? I guess I hit the record at being at the top of your list then. But what does that have to do with me being the artist?” The two acquaintances were clearly amused by one another. And it was obvious that this conversation wasn’t ending anytime soon.

“I’ve been introduced to several artists in the past. They’re all the same in their own way, yet they’re very different from the average person. I know that if I was in fact talking to an average person, they would’ve moved onto the next painting by now. Maybe they would’ve left, maybe they would’ve went ahead and spent their money without another thought. And you, you are definitely not an average person,” he stated simply. A look of amazement adorned her features as he spoke. “Huh… that’s quite the observation. But you don’t seem very average, yourself. Does that also make you an artist?” she teased. He quirked a jagged brow at her. “Of sorts. I’m more of a… manufacturer.”

“Ooh, of what?” He shook his head and lifted his index finger. “That’s a secret.” This might’ve been the first time in months, maybe longer, since he’d actually smiled— a genuine smile. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself. “Anyway,” he changed the subject by clearing his throat. He then caught a glimpse of the name at the bottom of the notecard positioned beside the canvas. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/n L/n.” Her expression morphed into a small pout. “Awe, I can’t think of a good alias. Well, nice to meet you…?” Overhaul stiffed as she extended her hand out to him. Despite his fears, he was somehow able to discard them and slowly wrapped his hand around hers, shaking it.

“Perhaps if we get to know each other some more, I’ll tell you.”

Maybe going out tonight wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

(he bought the painting soon after)

#i don’t care what you say this man is a sweet bean #overhaul #kai chisaki #x reader #one shot #artist!reader #my hero academia #mha villain #shie hassaikai #yakuza #germaphobia

[lsvdw-blog]

Not a Minute More: Part 2

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings; Rating: Mentions of a cyberattack, Angst; Teen+

Premise: MC's perspective on the day that rocks Ethan to his core and threatens to change his life.

Author’s Note: I was going to wait to post this, but I'm loving the flood of content we're getting rn, so I thought I'd hop on too. I cried writing this... I'm so sorry 😭. Part 1 here. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading 💖

~ Monday, 8:20am ~

"Good morning, Mike!" Serena greets the security guard right inside the door.

"Hey! How are ya? How's that Dr. Ramsey?"

"We're both doing well, thanks! How about you and the family?" She asks as she puts her phone in a cubby and unplugs the Wi-Fi enabler from her laptop.

"It was the wife and I's anniversary this weekend! We went to Martha's vineyard and saw the most beautiful proposal! You and Dr. R gonna get going on that soon? Aly has been talking about going to y'alls wedding since she met ya!" Mike gives a playful wink.

"Oh, congratulations! That's wonderful and send Aly my best wishes. But you'll have to talk to E on that one," she laughs before opening the door to a stairwell that leads to a classified area.

After keying in her pin, the door clicks open. She grabs a static protection lab coat, walks through the entrance, and is met with a plethora of state-of-the-art equipment. Floor-to-ceiling grey switch panels, curved monitors as far as the eye can see, and countless probes, clips, and wires.

She walks over to a few familiar faces. “Good morning! How’s it going?”

“Nice of you to finally join us! Dr. Ramsey keep you this morning?” Isla, one of the engineers, jests.

“I saw your check-in on the monitor — you walked in two minutes before me!”

“Those diagnostic skills at work, I see,” Isla retorts and they both laugh.

Isla had become a fast and faithful friend since Serena joined the project. They bonded quickly over both being minorities in the world of science and supported each other in every work facet. They had lunch together everyday and gradually, their work bond grew into a personal friendship as well. They’ve become so close that Isla now also regularly spends time with the original Edenbrook gang.

“Alright, enough chit chat. Let’s get this show on the road.”

The team nods and responds, “Yes, Doctor.”

~ 12:00pm ~

Serena exits the classified area with some colleagues and they all make their way to retrieve their phones.

"No new patients. Stuck in meetings and doing paperwork. I miss you and wish you were here."

She immediately breaks out into a large grin after reading Ethan's text and hits the dial button.

"Hey, ready for lunch?" Carmen, one of the lead scientists, asks.

Serena nods and moves her phone slightly away from her ear. "Be there in a minute. You guys go ahead."

She waits for a few more rings. He’s probably busy, I’ll call again later. She hangs up and makes her way to the cafeteria.

~ 12:40pm ~

"We did all the necessary prep work this morning to begin testing after lunch. Everything is looking good. We can begin running our tests since everyone is here. Are we all ready to begin?"

"Yes."

The system engineers are sitting at connected computer stations, inputting the required credentials to start. The rest of the team is standing behind them, waiting and nervously watching the screens. After a couple minutes of tense silence with nothing but the clack clack clack of keyboard keys, Vincenzo, one of the lead engineers, speaks up.

"This is weird… we're having some trouble accessing the necessary data. Did someone put up a firewall?"

Everybody looks around at each other, shaking their heads and muttering "no."

"Isla, are you seeing this? Can you get through?"

Isla continues to type, not saying anything. After a few more seconds, she turns to look at Vincenzo with a concerned expression. "I don't recognize some of the items in our system."

Just as she finishes her sentence, everyone's attention is pulled abruptly to a wall monitor on the right as it starts showing nonsensical images and patterns. Two seconds later, an alarm goes off and a red warning light begins flashing within the building. Everyone's eyes go wide as realization dawns on them: they've been compromised and shelter-in-place has been activated.

~ 12:55pm ~

Everyone begins to evacuate the classified lab area, grabbing their phones on the way out, and peering through the one-way windows. They can occasionally hear Mike speaking rapidly into the phone with a 911 dispatcher, when he's not being drowned out by shouts from colleagues.

On the descent to the bunker, the tension is palpable. Individuals clutch onto each other, others try frantically to reach loved ones, and some are in complete disbelief and shock. As they all descend the five flights of the winding staircase to the basement, windows are no longer available, but the ceiling bulbs keep flickering on and off. Each time it happens, everyone stops in their tracks, ducks down on instinct, and picks up the pace when the lights come back on.

~ 1:15pm ~

The entrance to the Harvard labs bunker is protected by a vault door that has a counter system. When the system is in place, the door can be opened once for people to get in. Once it's been closed, it can only be opened when there's one person on either side working together — it's futile with only one person. The only other way it can be opened is by shutting down the counter system from the outside, with the correct override pin, which only a handful of the most trusted team members know.*

As the vault door comes into sight, the wheel on the outside is turned, and the door opens with a whoosh. People slowly start filing in and head towards the back. However, not everyone can stay in the safety of the bunker. In case of an emergency, the project they’re working on must be erased, to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. Certain people have been assigned particular instructions to delete specific portions.

Serena is one of them.

She's walking next to Isla and their arms are looped together. As Isla enters the bunker, Serena lets go of her arm, stopping at the threshold. Isla whips her head around.

"What are you doing?! Get in here!" She reaches for Serena’s arm.

Serena shakes her head. "I'm the only one currently here who knows the medical codes."

Isla's eyes are frantic in realization. "I'll go back with you! I'll be your lookout! You're not going alone!"

"You'll be safe here. This is my responsibility."

Serena reaches behind her neck and unclasps her gold necklace for the first time in 7 years. She grabs Isla's hand and places the jewelry into her palm, closing Isla's fingers around it.

Serena stares at their clasped hands. "In case anything happens," they both flinch at another flickering of lights. "Promise me that you'll get this to E."

Their eyes are locked now, having a silent battle: Isla begging her to stay and Serena finding the strength not to.

"Isla, promise me. Please." Serena squeezes Isla’s hand that much tighter.

Isla realizes that there's no use in fighting Serena. Risking her life to delete the project is part of the job. They all made a commitment and if the roles were reversed, Isla would be the one fighting to go back.

Isla slowly nods. "I promise, Serena. I promise. But do your best to keep yourself safe. Try and stay near the corners, away from any large equipment that could have aftershock effects, and—"

Serena shakes her slightly. "I know, Isla. We did take the same training," she smiles, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood, but Isla just stares gravely at her.

A booming sound rattles the building and Serena knows it's time to go. She gives Isla a quick hug, before pushing her backwards into the bunker. Before Isla has regained her footing, Serena has closed the bunker door with a resounding thud.

~ 1:30pm ~

On the way back to the classified area, Serena takes out her phone. Ethan hasn't returned her earlier call. Her heart is pounding and with trembling hands, she hits the call button on Ethan's contact card for the second time in less than two hours. After a few rings, his voice comes through.

"You've reached Dr. Ethan Ramsey. I apologize for missing your call. Leave a message and I'll get back to you."

Just as she’s about to start speaking, the lights go down for good. "Hey E," she tries her best to keep her voice from shaking. She puts the call on speaker, places the phone out in front of her, and turns the flashlight on. "I don't know when this will hit the news, but we're currently under cyberattack. I don't know from who or what, but they’ve already gotten into our mainframe and power supply. Everyone has sheltered-in-place and is awaiting further instructions." She takes a deep breath as she inches down a corridor.

"Everyone except me, Vincenzo, and Carmen. We’re the only three here right now trained to completely delete the project in the event something like this happened. I'm walking back to the lab as I speak."

Serena rounds a corner and the lab comes into view. Thinking about what she has to say next, silent tears stream down her face.

"Ethan, sweetheart, I need you to know that the last eight months by your side have been the absolute best eight months of my entire life. You are the light of my existence and mean everything to me." She lets out a deep breath. "I wish I could hear your voice right now… I'm really scared. But I made a commitment, so I need to go back in and finish the job. If something happens, know that you are unequivocally the love of my life and the one for me. I know we haven't talked about it yet, but know that I want to spend forever with you as your wife and have you be the father of my children." She sniffs and continues, "you would be a fantastic husband and dad."

She comes to a stop in front of the keypad located right outside the lab and swallows past the lump in her throat. "But if the universe has other plans for me, I'll be waiting for you and I can't wait to spend forever with you in the next life. This isn't how I wanted to tell you, but until next time, whenever that is, I love you so much, Ethan Jonah Ramsey, more than words could ever properly convey."

She ends the phone call with tear-filled eyes, stashes her phone on a nearby workbench, punches in her key, and enters the classified area one more time.

~~~~~~

*Disclaimer: I have no idea if Harvard labs has a bunker and if they do, what kind of door/system they utilize. This is all purely AU!

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart #choices open heart #playchoices #ethan ramsey fanfiction #ethan ramsey fic #open heart fanfiction #open heart fic #choices stories you play

[thenovelartist]

Game Over: Be Mine

Happy (late) Birthday to my friend @galaxyofconstellations​

“I swear, Adrien, you frickin’ blue shell me, I am going to kick you out of my house right now.”

The young man sitting beside her just laughed. “It’s not like I have the option of who to blue shell, though.”

“You have the option to not blue shell me in the first place.”

“Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?”

“Adrien Agreste,” Marinette growled.

He shot her a smug grin. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette huffed. To say this was out of the ordinary for her to sass a supermodel would be a lie. She’d met the man beside her a couple years ago when her best friend happened to start going out with his best friend. And then game nights between the four of them began to transpire every once in a while. And then once a month. And now about once week. However, there were times Alya and Nino, due to their schedules, wanted to ditch game nights so they could actually have a date night that week.

Just as they had done tonight.

And that was all right by Marinette and Adrien. Because they had become plenty close over the past couple years and had learned to enjoy solo game nights without the lovey-dovey couple getting all lovey-dovey on them.

“I am not kidding.” Marinette warned.

“I’d love to see you try.”

“To kick you out?”

“Yeah.”

“I will.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Don’t underestimate me. I’m stronger than I look.”

“I’m not. I’ve seen you lift flour bags. I know full well what you’re capable of.”

“Therefore, you know better than to use that blue shell on me.”

Marinette snuck a glance at Adrien, who was wearing a smile that she Did. Not. Like. It was that smile that always meant trouble yet caused her heart to flutter. It was not fair that he looked extra attractive wearing that grin. Being a fashion designer, she’d seen her fair share of models. She hardly cared for them beyond being able to display her creations. Attractive men who constantly made passes at her while she fitted them with clothes were a dime a dozen.

However, the model next to her with his tongue slightly sticking out while his brows furrowed deeply in concentration could not be so easily tossed under that blanket statement, even if he had jokingly made passes at her while she tailored his outfits. Honestly, she found herself wishing more often than not that he’d meant them despite knowing he hadn’t.

“Well…” he said, shooting her a quick wink before turning back to the screen, “knowing and doing are two different things.”

“Adrien Agreste.”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“About pressing this button?”

“Yes.”

He moved his finger.

“Don’t you dare.”

“Oops.”

“Screw you!”

Marinette watched as the blue shell flew through the course and struck her, causing her cart to explode right before the finish line. Before her cart could even fully recover, she watched as Adrien’s cart zipped past her across the finish line.

“Winner!” he shouted, tossing his hands in the air while wearing a beaming smile.

“You mangy—”

“Hey hey, be nice.”

“Nice?!”

“Yeah.” He shot her a smile that did not under any circumstances cause the butterflies in her stomach to swirl. “It’s not becoming to be a sore loser.”

Marinette sputtered. “It is when you’re a cheater!”

“How’d I cheat? I merely used what the game gave me.”

“You strategically planned to screw me over.”

“But but but…” he began with a pout. “That’s kinda the point of Mario Cart.”

She let loose a growl before turning away from him. “Honestly, you’re such a piece of work.”

“Yeah, but you love me.”

The words were said in jest. Marinette knew this. Her heart could not take it in jest. Not when she had developed a healthy crush on the man who was now behind her.

“Mari?”

Adrien’s concerned voice floated towards her, and her anger was already fading. She couldn’t stay mad at him, even if he did win this game five times in a row. She wasn’t a sore loser, but she also knew she was better than this.

“Maaaaariiiiii.”

His voice now resonated right by her ear. She could feel the couch cushion sink under his weight as he crawled across the couch to now be right behind her.

“Get lost. I’m sulking,” she snarked, turning her face away from him in hopes to hide the smile growing on her face.

“Oh, are we now?”

“We are,” she resolutely returned.

“Oh.”

There was a pause, and Marinette felt the cushion under her return to normal as Adrein shifted off the couch entirely.

“Well,” Adrien said, rounding the arm rest to place himself right before her. She had to cover her mouth in hopes of hiding her grin just a little while longer. “I do know one way to get you to stop sulking.”

Marinette froze for a second, hand falling away from her face—her smile was long gone now—as she looked towards Adrien.

He was grinning.

She began panicking.

“You wouldn’t.”

His smile only grew in responce.

He would.

In a flash, Marinette spun around, planning to bolt off the couch and out of his reach.

Unfortunately, she was not fast enough to escape. And she squealed as he began his attack.

His tickle attack, that is.

“Adrien!” she shrieked, collapsing onto the couch in a fit of laughter. She tried to wiggle away from him, but it was no use. He had crawled over the arm of the couch and was now hovering over her. “Stop.”

“Never!” he cried, wrapping his arms fully around her to hold her close as his assault on her sides continued.

Marinette let out another shriek, laughing so hard tears were forming in her eyes as she tried to wiggle her way out of Adrien’s grasp. He was now laughing along with her as he pinned her fully beneath him to the couch, his arms around her waist that held her tightly enough to continue tickling her sides. “Give up,” he cried, giggling all the while.

“I give!” Marinette screamed, still laughing as her back arched and hands pushed against his shoulders in an unfortunately futile attempt to escape his grasp. “I give! I surrender! Please.”

He held his hands still, though his fingers still lingered on her exposed skin right between her pants and where her shirt had ridden up on her hips. He propped himself up best he could and pulled her back towards him, close enough for his face to hover right above hers. “No more pouty Mari!”

“Yes, yes! Okay. You win. Stop!”

With that, he fully halted his attack, allowing Marinette a moment to breathe. Wide smile still lingering on her face, she let her eyes shut as she took heaving gulps of air that she wasn’t able to get during her tickle-induced laughing attack.

Faintly, she became aware of Adrien also breathing heavily, a short chuckle escaping him here and there. “Hey.”

She opened her eyes, only to come face to face with Adrien. “What?”

“I didn’t go too overboard, did I?”

With a heavy sigh, she let her eyes drift closed for a moment before shaking her head. “No. No more than usual.”

“Good,” he huffed, clearly relieved.

While the two were coming down from their giggle fit high, Marinette became increasingly aware of their very precarious position. At the moment, she was pinned to the couch, a fact she had already been aware of, but not to this extent. Adrien’s face was barely hovering above hers, looking every bit as handsome as he possibly could be while he laid on top of her, their legs intertwined and his arms fencing her in.

She felt all her blood rush to her cheeks that moment. It wasn’t fair. He shouldn’t be able to have this affect on her. He was a model like any one of the dozens she was frequently surrounded with.

But he was also her friend. And a huge dork. And great at video games. And skilled both in the art of cheering her up and melting her heart. And and and…

And it just wasn’t fair how badly she’d fallen for him. Or how badly she wanted to kiss him right now.

“Adrien.”

“Hmm?”

“What… what if…”

She bit her lip. Just what did she think she was doing right now?

“What if I told you you did go overboard? What would you be willing to do to pay me back for it?”

He paused, distress slowly beginning to shadow his pretty features. “Anything.”

“Anything?”

“I have Nino, who’s my best bro. But beyond that, the person I’m closest to… is you,” he quietly admitted. “I’d do whatever it took to make it up to you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Her heart was racing as she looked at the handsome man before her, the one she’d come to care for deeply and sincerely. She knew better than to take advantage of this situation. She knew better than to be manipulative like this. And yet, as Marinette looked at him, she also wasn’t sure she cared. “Then, close your eyes.”

Without hesitating, he did just that.

It wasn’t lost on Marinette the amount of trust he put into her. He was the kind that asked “how high” when asked to jump, but only for a select few people. Everyone else could take a long walk off a short pier for all he cared.

It made her realize once again just how precious that trust in her was.

Which made her rethink what she was about to do.

Ultimately, she shoved doubt aside as she raised her hands to cradle his cheeks, and he sucked in a sharp breath at her touch. They were soft to the touch yet very well defined. He was so handsome. A model through and through.

And maybe, she should stop saying such things, because what did it matter that he was a model. That was the one thing she could care less about when it came to him. Not when he had so many other qualities that shone far brighter.

Slowly, she started pulling him closer. And he came willingly. Yet, at the last moment, she froze.

In the end, she couldn’t go through with it.

“Adrien.”

“Please tell me you’re going to kiss me.”

She gasped quietly, unsure how to proceed or even answer that question. “I…” Words choked up in her throat. “I… wanted to.”

“Wanted to?” Adrien asked, eyes cracking open to match hers.

Her hands fell from his cheeks, curling together on her collarbone. She glanced away shyly. “I don’t… can’t take advantage of you.”

His hand reached up to brush aside her hair before cradling the back of her neck, bringing her attention back to his soft and sweet smile. “You’re not,” he gently assured. “Not by a long shot.”

“Then…” Marinette once again reached up to cradle his cheeks, and Adrien took that as his cue to pull her close and kiss her.

It was a single kiss, one that was a firm, lingering press of their lips together.

And in that moment, Marinette knew this was game over for her and her heart. Adrien had won again. But this time, she hardly minded.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” Adrien whispered. “But… seems like you were braver than I was. It never felt like the right time, and I was too chicken to push my luck when I knew I could end up losing you.”

Words now completely failed Marinette. What was she supposed to say to that? How was she supposed to respond? “I… get… how you feel.”

Above her, Adrien’s loving smile grew. “So, does this mean I can press my luck and get a favorable answer when I ask if you’d be my girl?”

Marinette was quick to nod. “Yes.”

Adrien visibly relaxed, faint blush growing on his own cheeks. “I’m… really glad to hear that.”

A short silence passed between them.

“Second question.”

“Yeah?” Marinette whispered, her heart already over the moon and head completely in the clouds.

“If I asked to kiss you again,” Adrien said, leaning closer. “Would that answer be a yes?”

Those words wracked around in her mind for two seconds before short-circuiting everything. Forget speech, because that had become physically impossible, Marinette just grabbed his cheeks again.

Right before she could pull him down to grant his request, she could hear him chuckle softly. “I like that answer,” he whispered. “But…”

His lips brushed against hers as his voice got low and so quiet she could barely pick up on the words that fully destroyed her. “I like you even more.”

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #slight au #adrienette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #fluff #romance #these two dorks #got to love them #Happy Birthday my friend!

[teawaffles]

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 3

“Fred. How’s their acting like to you?” Jack asked in a low voice.

They were seated at the edge of the stalls. They could also see Bond from where they were, completely focused on the stage.

“I’m not an actor myself, so this is just my personal opinion — but I think they’re awfully good,” Fred replied.

Jack gazed at the stage with a serious look in his eyes.

“I think so too. I won’t discount the fact that their sets and props look a little homemade, maybe due to a lack of budget; but when it comes to acting, each one of them is highly skilled. I can tell that the performers are all deeply familiar with the intent of the script.”

They were no theatre professionals for sure, but they possessed an eye for the true essence of their art.

The creases near Jack's eyes deepened as he quietly groaned.

“And best of all is that lady.”

“Yeah, I thought so too,” Moran agreed. With Fred included, all of them were focused on the lone person on the stage.

As Jack had pointed out, Maya, the chairwoman, was the standout actress even among the highly-skilled members of her own company.

Although she only held the lead role in “The Little Match Girl”, and was relegated to supporting roles for the other stories, the delivery of her lines, the movements of her body and hands, and even the slight shifts in her gaze — each and every one of her actions was perfectly under her control. They had seen a glimpse of this when she’d stood before her fellow company members previously, but this person on stage was completely different from the one who'd spoken to them at the entrance.

Even accounting for the fact that she had written the script herself, this level of sophistication in acting was not one which could be achieved by some run-of-the-mill actress. Moreover, the lines and pauses in the script had been carefully crafted to make it easy for the audience to relate to the stories.

From then on, the three of them enjoyed the rest of the play in silence, marvelling at her exceptional talent. Eventually, the rehearsal came to an end.

“——That concludes our performance. Thank you very much for coming.”

After her closing words, the company lined up on stage, silently waiting for Bond’s comments. While there had not been any flashy moments during the performance, almost all of them had sweat on their foreheads. Each breath they took revealed the depth of their concentration.

“…………”

For a short while, Bond stared at the stage without saying a word. Growing uneasy at the silence, the company members lowered their gazes slightly.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bond cleared his throat, and adjusted his posture. Seeing that, the company members straightened their backs.

“——If I were to summarise my thoughts, I think your acting has already reached a high standard. I’m sure all of you have put in much time and effort to achieve this.”

Their faces beamed at his compliment. But Bond would not allow them to be satisfied with that alone.

He rose from his seat.

“But that’s also why some bad habits have stood out to me. For example, the witch in ‘The Little Mermaid’: there were times when your movements were too exaggerated. I know that you wanted to emphasise her sinister nature, but the way you did so may turn off the audience.”

“Y-Yes……”

The actress who’d been singled out hung her head, perhaps out of shock. But Bond ignored this, and pointed to another woman.

“Now, you played the main character in ‘The Red Shoes’. I watched your steps after putting on the shoes — have you properly studied dance? It’s true that even some stage professionals may think that it’s alright to just mimic the real thing, but if you really want to make your performance more authentic, you must take the time to learn how to do it properly. Your audience will not be satisfied unless you show them a level of skill that will astonish even people in that profession.”

“Understood!” she responded with vigour.

“Next up is you: the way you project your voice——”

Then Bond singled out each of the performers in turn, highlighting in detail what they needed to work on. He only needed to watch their play once to spot areas for improvement at such a fine level of detail — his eye for the arts gave them all a sense of the former professional’s brilliance.

At last, Bond finished addressing every member of the company. But he then swept his gaze over the entire theatre.

“In addition…… this isn’t your fault at all, but your success today was only possible due to the small size of this theatre,” he said, with some distress. “If we were in a bigger venue, the hall would be wider and deeper to accommodate the larger audience. In other words, I’m afraid that with your current performance, your voices simply would not reach the entire audience.”

Maya paled.

“So, in order to accommodate the size of the venue……”

“Yes. The worst-case scenario would be that you have to rework the entire play. By the way, when is the opening night?”

“T—Two weeks later.”

The entire room was enveloped in silence. Even from where they were seated, Moran and the others felt the weight of their despair: all the hard work they had put in thus far, might just have amounted to nothing.

Even Bond, who had revealed this harsh reality, dropped his gaze and grimaced.

“Well, there are a fair number of productions that focus only on the stage, and do not account for the size of the audience, so you may not have to change——”

“——No, we’ll do it.”

Maya sharply interrupted his proposal.

“You’ve seen how I am; I’ve always been timid and hesitant…… but theatre is the one thing I will never compromise on. Especially now — this is a rare opportunity for us. For my fellow company members, for the people who’ve supported us this far, I want to show them something I’ve put every effort into making.”

“…………”

At her words, the rest of the company nodded in silence.

Even with the actual performance only two weeks away, Maya and her company had steeled their hearts and chosen to start again from scratch. That stubborn determination surprised Bond, and even Moran and the rest.

“U—Um…… Mr Bond, I actually have something I wish to discuss with you……”

Out of the blue, Maya’s voice had grown soft.

“U—Um, if it is alright with you, just for the next two weeks, could you sit in during our rehearsals? A—Ah, actually, just whenever you have the time would be fine……”

Bond chuckled.

Even after being told about all those problems, they refused to stand down, and even continued to ask for help. Their mental fortitude sparked hope in him, and he couldn’t help but let out a grin.

Bond shot the party in the stalls a questioning look. Moran looked to Jack and Fred in turn, before giving him a thumbs-up.

With that, the former flames of passion within Bond burned even hotter. He faced the company members with a determined grin.

“——Okay. But I will be especially tough on you all, so be prepared.”

Then, he called out to Fred.

“Fred-kun. I would like your help as well — is that alright with you?”

“Understood,” he replied, standing up.

“Bond, I’m always happy to teach knife-wielding.”

“And you can always ask me about gun handling.”

“Now that would be helpful,” Bond smiled at Jack and Moran’s jests, then turned back to the stage.

“Well then, everyone — for the next two weeks, let’s do our best together.”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“During a performance, you must be always be aware of three things: the audience, the other actors, and yourself. If the feeling of being ‘watched’ becomes too strong for you, first direct your attention within yourself. Then, you will be able to focus on your acting once again.”

“I don’t advocate the idea of getting into a role. In the end, acting is just a skill: what you should focus on instead is how you are moving.”

“Although an effective way of bringing out emotions is to dredge up your past memories, I would advise you to avoid that. Recent memories are too concrete and vivid — if you must do so, use memories from your distant past. And be careful: if you frequently immerse yourself in negative emotions, you will hurt yourself on a spiritual level too.”

In a small theatre in Whitechapel, Bond’s instructions came forth ceaselessly.

He stood on stage together with the company members: carefully reviewing their movements, even acting them out himself as an example on occasion, and putting in every effort to raise the level of their production.

The remaining two weeks were short, but with their foundations already strong to begin with, Maya and her company steadily honed their acting skills to perfection.

One week left until the show. His work as an instructor had finally ended for the day, and he let out a sigh as he sat in the stalls to catch his breath.

“Good work today — fancy a sip?”

Having watched the proceedings from the stalls, Moran handed him a bottle of water. It was a beer bottle — very Moran-like — and Bond accepted it with a smile.

“Thanks, Moran-kun.”

Bond gulped down a single mouthful of water.

“So, how’s the play going?”

“At first I thought we would be hard-pressed for time, but they truly exceeded my expectations. I think we might just make it. ……Scratch that, we will make it.”

Moran nodded.

“That’s right. And they seem to be well-liked by the residents around here. I really hope they can pull it off.”

As Moran gazed off into the distance, a thought just occurred to Bond. He cocked his head.

“Come to think of it, you really didn’t have to tag along with me all this time, you know?”

Ever since the day Bond had agreed to lend his support to the company, his other colleagues had stopped over from time to time to cheer him on. However, Moran had made it a point to come to the theatre every day without fail.

Moran scratched his cheek in embarrassment.


“……Well, it’s not like I have anything else to do when there aren’t any missions. As a senior member of this organisation, I’m just here to see how my junior works.”

“Even though you’ve been skipping out on chores at the mansion?”

“D—Dammit, I told you before: I always do my share of the work, you know.”

Bond had said that half-jokingly, but his words flustered Moran nevertheless. It seemed he had not been entirely wrong about that.

Bond returned his gaze to the stage.

“……Thank you, Moran-kun,” he said quietly.

“Hmm? Didn’t you already say that earlier?”

“This one means something different,” he said, with a hint of mischief in his voice. Moran raised an eyebrow in bemusement, but the presence of a caring senior alone warmed Bond’s heart.

Just then, they heard the sound of the theatre doors opening.

As the two men turned to look, they saw a portly middle-aged man with a magnificent moustache standing at the entrance.

Maya hurriedly bowed in his direction. “T—Thank you so much for your help thus far! What brings you all the way here?”

From her formal manner, it seemed this was the very noble who had asked them to stage the opening act for his theatre.

“Ah, you’ve been working hard, I see,” he said as he stroked his moustache, a big smile on his face.

“Yes; with your assistance, we’ve been able to prepare for the performance in time. I’m sure the audience will be satisfied with——”

“Well, about that.”

The man interrupted Maya, still all smiles.

“——Your performance has been cancelled.”

“What?”

No one could believe their ears.

Her expression brimmed with confusion.

“U-Um, what do you mean……?”

“What does it mean? Just pretend our conversation back then didn’t happen. That’s all.”

The man made another simple pronouncement, then smiled as if nothing was wrong.

“Honestly, it’s just as well that this has happened, since I’ve also been troubled over your debut. So what I’m saying is, your company doesn’t have to turn up. That’s alright with you, isn’t it?”

The entire company was still in a state of shock. Then, Bond addressed the man directly.

“Now hold on just a moment. What do you mean, you were troubled? Then why did you ask them to perform? What’s more, isn’t it a little late to cancel the performance at this juncture?”

Hearing that, the man sighed in displeasure.

“Who are you, anyway? Someone connected to this company? I’m not happy to be asked so many questions at once.”

“Then I’ll summarise it for you. If you were going to cancel the performance so easily, why bother requesting Maya and her company to perform anyway?”

At Bond’s question, the nobleman shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, that’s simple. I just felt like it.”

“……What?”

Those shocking words froze him to the core.

“I’d heard about a reputable theatre company in the slums. Since there’s this notion of noblesse oblige anyway, I thought a performance would be a good topic for conversation and approached them. But then I grew to realise that the thought of poor people stepping onto the sacred stage of an official theatre just didn’t sit well with me. So yesterday, I finally decided to put an end to this madness.”

“How could you……”

He had asked Maya’s company to perform on a whim, and then cancelled their act on a selfish whim as well. And this was all decided just ‘yesterday’. Even though they had been putting in every effort into their play.

The nobleman continued.

“That’s all I had to say. You poor folk are living off the graces of the nobility, so be grateful that I even bothered to come all this way to talk to you. Now that I’m finished here, I’ll be leaving. The smell here is simply an assault on my senses.”

Right before he walked out, the man spat out one last line.

“Well, at least you all had a nice dream, didn’t you?”

“………!”

A violent rage surged within Bond. Somehow, he managed to grit his teeth and hold himself back. If he were to retaliate right now, he would be inviting unnecessary reprisal on Maya and her company rather than himself. So all he could do was look daggers at the nobleman’s back as he left.

The theatre was enveloped in a mournful silence. Everyone seemed to have lost their verve, and no one uttered a word. Bond was shaking with frustration.

Amidst the heavy atmosphere, just one man — Moran — gazed upon the situation with composure.

Finally, Maya, the chairwoman, mumbled in a thin voice.

“Um, I’m so sorry. I think, I’m not feeling too well……”

Then, with a hollow expression, she headed to the dressing room, her footsteps shaky.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

[jostepherjoestar]

Can I request giorno meeting his shy half-sister (both of them are related cause DIO) and the two of bond over books.

📚Giorno and his half-sister bonding over books📚

sfw // no pronouns used but implied fem! reader

Thank you so much for requesting this! Sorry if reader turned out a bit more confident, I feel like they’d ease up once Giorno started joking around a bit. Also thank you for being patient 🥺cozy loves yall so much💖✨

“Thank you for taking up the offer; I wasn’t really sure you’d accept…” It felt a bit sheepish, standing there wriggling in your shoes, palms clammy with nervous sweat. Not quite the image you had hoped to convey to your newly found brother at your first meeting.

Well, half brother, actually. You had never even known him to exist, let alone be the head of a criminal organisation that seemed a little less devious than they’d like their reputation to let on. Perhaps it was his influence as their fresh new leader, working towards change, shaping the old crusted traditions into a cornucopia of advancements.

“No need to worry about that. I was surprised myself, I thought I’d never hear from Koichi again.” Giorno chuckled, it sounded so warm, so genuine. It eased up your tense shoulders, letting them fall back down and made you finally release that breath you’d been holding.

“Oh did something happen? He seemed very excited to contact you after he found me.” You admitted, remembering how Koichi’s face lit up when you suggested going to Italy. What a strange boy. You would have never met him, not even crossed paths once, if it weren’t for the research the Speed Wagon Foundation had been conducting.

They’d found out about your mother, the poor woman already passed on, too troubled to recount how she’d met your biological father, fear still striking her feeble heart every time your eyes met hers, a harsh reminder of her encounter with Dio. After some curt phone calls with a polite but coldly professional man named Dr. Kujoh you had learned a little about your father. The few details they provided about him already made your stomach curl in disgust.

That dark lit photograph of him had been etched into your very being but seeing Giorno, his blonde hair so remarkably resembling that of your shared father, seemed to have changed that twisted image. “Hah, I’ll tell you some other time. Come, sit down! I’ll have someone bring us some drinks.” The kindness and passion in his eyes could sway any being.

Giorno’s steel cut resolve soaked into his very core and his surroundings, his office meticulously decorated with tasteful furniture, a cohesive but still inviting nook. It reflected the impression you had of him, welcoming and polite but sure to be careful of his ruthless edge. Perhaps it was a skill you had both inherited from your father, observant eyes that saw everything, even beyond the physical bounds, the very core of others.

As you sat and waited for his colleague to return with drinks you engaged in some small talk, not really sure what the other liked just yet to divulge in further. The air seemed to have thinned, a calmer energy now flowing, a natural one as Giorno’s intent blue stare clung to every little thing you said. A certain proudness in his demeanour when you told him about how good you’d been doing in university and the friends you’d found along the way. His heart could burst at how beautifully mundane your life has been, glad to know you weren’t involved in any risky business that he knew of.

Your eyes landed on the scenery behind him when the conversation reached a lull, a tall bookcase filled to the brim with books reaching all the way to the ceiling, the light wood decorated with beautiful plant like reliefs. Curiously you scanned the spines of the carefully sorted books: Nietzsche, Plato, Descartes, Sartre and even Susan Sontag made her way on the shelves. The wide array varying between philosophy, classic literature, art, mythology and on the bottom row- having to lean forward a little to properly see- revealing a small fiction section.

You quirked an eyebrow at your childhood favourite. “You’ve read The Chronicles of Narnia?!” Your sudden outburst of wonderment infected Giorno, a soft smile gracing his features as he remembered reading them, he wasn’t only a wannabe gangster in his early teens, he loved to read as well.

“Yes I did-” Pausing as he turned to the shelves, fondly giving them a once over before returning his bright eyes to you. “There’s more fiction books, but I try and display the literature more. Can’t have my guests knowing I love Roald Dahl and C.S. Lewis just yet! I have an image to uphold.” He jested, but there was a truth behind his words, knowing he can’t let many others get to know the real Giorno, lest they use it against him. Your smile only grew bigger, chuckling at his banter. For a moment there it felt like you’d known each other far longer, that invisible connection tethering your hearts together.

“I love those books. It kinda feels like home, you know?” You added, smiling down at your hands, the warm ache of nostalgia tugging at your heart. “It does, doesn’t it. A better one perhaps.” Giorno answered in a compassionate tone, knowing just how difficult it must have been to grow up, without even knowing too many details of each others’ upbringings.

Feeling the mood dampen a little but glad your brother shared the sentiment, wracking your mind for a new lighter topic to discuss. Remembering the latest book you’d read for a university class snapped your head up again.

“You’ve read a lot of philosophy-“ You pointed at the multiple rows of authors and great thinkers. “They’re very interesting and all but, have you heard of my recent favourite; Diogenes?” You barely contained your laughter at the strange anecdotes you’d read about the cynic philosopher. Giorno raised a brow, curious to see where this little giggle fit was going. “That guy? Oh yes I have.”

“Did you know he pissed on people that insulted him? What an absolute genius!” You raised your voice and fell into laughter, the joyous sounds escaping Giorno as well, for a moment forgetting all that troubled his mind. “Maybe I should give that tactic a try at meetings.” He pondered, somehow the change in his expression made you believe that he was serious for a second.

“Man is the most intelligent of the animals - and the most silly.” Giorno quoted, the laughter slowly subsiding and that warm feeling of acceptance taking over. You were only looking to getting to know your brother more, gladly offering him a taste of normality in his turbulent life which he greatly appreciated. “Most definitely!” You beamed, feeling relieved at his wit and growing familiarity.

The afternoon flew by, chatting more about the wide array of books, sharing little tidbits and funny stories. Both still not divulging too much about the past or your parents, it would only sour the mood. At the rate you two got along, this definitely wouldn’t be the only meeting you’d have together.

The future looked a little brighter, an airy feeling of solace settling into Don Giovanna’s office, an atmosphere he won’t forget you brought in.  

#cozy request #giorno x reader #NOT INC*ST for the love of all that is good #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #giorno giovanna #jjba fic #giorno sibling #giorno imagine #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #sfw

[sisterofleatherfrog]

Star Wars Kinktober day- 3

Prompt: Under-clothes bondage 

Fives x Sub! OC (AFAB)

Orla is another one of my OC’s that I sometimes play around with in my fandom daydreams. She’s very tall (think around 6’10), and her appearance is non-human (I’ll definitely have to elaborate on that in art form later), and she is Five’s big-titty goth gf. She has some self-confidence/worth issues, but Fives is literally so goddamn smitten. 

Some art as a sorry for missing day 4!

Tags: Bondage, collar, bf chooses gf’s clothes and dresses her, pre negotiated kink, safewords, cunnilingus, dirty talk, daddy kink

Words: 2440

🖤💜🖤

“Fives? Do- do you, could you help me?” Orla asked, a tremble present in her voice. They’d planned this outing the previous week, going out to a beer garden to have lunch and meet with a few of Five’s brothers and their significant others. She’d made friends with a few of the troopers and their partners and was definitely looking forward to having a few drinks with them. That wasn’t all though, after confirming the date and time Orla had got to thinking. They’d been playing around with a lot of things recently in the bedroom; the collection of ropes, binders, among other things in their special little place was a testament to that. They had yet to try and bring it out of the bedroom, but it had been teasing Orla’s mind all week, and maybe…

Footsteps came up to the ajar bedroom door and it swung as it opened, her lover’s head peaked in. “What’s the matter Meshla? The dress zipper stu-” Fives abruptly stopped as he saw her, kneeling nude in the middle of the bedroom with a several meter length of red rope before her. The door lightly knocked the wall as he came fully into the room and looked down at her from a few paces with no little interest in his eyes. “What’s all this then,?”

He didn’t sound like he was upset in any way and Orla felt confident in explaining: “Well, remember us speaking of trying more adventurous things?” Fives nodded, eyes shining with that impish edge she knew so well as they roved her lush body. She bit her lip, “I must confess I’ve been thinking more on it since these plans were made, and maybe… Could you tie me up, daddy? I want to be your good little slut wherever we go together.” She lowered her head, but still her eyes stayed on Fives where he looked down on her. 

For a moment he was quiet, seemingly stunned as everything, her nudity, the use of THAT word, and the begging all came together to short-circuit his mind. Before she could start to regret her decision though, he drew in a shaky breath and drew a hand down his face until the wide grin on his face was revealed to her. He shifted his weight, the movement catching her eye and bringing it down to his crotch where he was beginning to stir. “Shit meshla,” he breathed. “Do you mean it? Do you really want to do this with me?”

Orla nodded, a desperation that surprised her causing heat to lick throughout her abdomen and fill her head. Fives came and knelt before her, now looking up to her dark eyes, partially shadowed by her coal black hair. “I need your words Orla, I need to know you really want this and aren’t doing something just to please me. Maker, do I want you like this, but not at the expense of you being miserable.” The corner of his mouth lifted, revealing one perfect dimple. “I want this to be good for you too.” 

A different warmth suffused her, she knew he loved her, and the amount of care he always gave her made her feel like a princess. Leaning her head down into a keldabe with him, she smiled before moving her lips to brush over his tattoo and down to his ear. “I want this, daddy, I truly do. I want to be extra good for you.” Orla punctuated her words by sliding a hand over his thigh and up to cup the bulge at his crotch. Fives groaned and grabbed the both of her wrists to stop her hands from wandering any further.

“You win this one, and you’re the best girlfriend ever!” He punctuated his sentence with a quick smooch before dragging her to stand with him. “Turn around meshla and lift your hair, let's see about getting you into this.” He started by placing the rope around the back of her neck, making sure that even halves were on either side of her neck and going down her front. Coming around he gently but confidently gripped it, already knowing the alignment of loops and knots he had to do. Within the valley between her breasts he made one knot and left a kiss on her left breast, below he made another and gave her right breast the same treatment. Just above her belly button he made one more knot, then dropped to his knees and started to trail kisses down from there, taking a moment to dip his tongue into her belly button and making Orla giggle, before he went lower and transformed it into a gasp. Five’s tongue followed the curve of her lower abdomen, trailed along her upper thigh, before he pulled back, his right hand taking its place before moving in and parting her labia with two strong, skilled fingers. 

Fives looked into her intently, studying the configuration of sensitive flesh at her apex for a moment before coming forward to kiss her lips, making out with her slit as his tongue made love to her clit. She gasped down at him, hand coming to clutch at his shoulders and the top of his head, whatever she could reach to steady herself. He was- “Oh, Fives, right there love!” He moved deeper into her heat if that was even possible, both hands having moved to her ass cheeks to pull her closer. His lips were locked around her clit, alternating and simultaneously sucking and licking with that tongue of his, that said such alternatingly inflammatory and jesting words, skilled and silver now on her. Often he would move, delve into her, kiss along her thighs and tease, build her up to a wholly satisfying end. This was something else though, a hunger both desperate and wild, focused on one goal alone, tracing along that lone and narrow path with a single minded purpose. He went on, groaning into her and holding her still as she shivered writhed, her size making no difference in his ability to hold her right where he wanted with his strength. 

Orla’s breath was escaping her in gasps and high whines, keening her need to him and she was drawn further and further up that path by him, his desperation infecting her as well. Oh he wasn’t taking his time at all, but she was adoring this direct and needy side to him. Her legs were turning to rubber and Five’s hands slid into the curve below her ass to hold her even more firmly, surely leaving marks that would be seen there later. He kept licking and laving, latched on so firmly it was as if he was feeding from her all the while she fed off the pleasure she got from him, creating a self-sustaining organism in a perpetual state of bliss and ecstasy. She felt him tying a new knot and keened into the otherwise quiet air of the room, her head tilting back and chest arching as she felt it winding ever tighter within her womb. Tighter and tighter, lick by suck, she was on the edge and just had to stretch a little further-

With a wild cry she fell, the knot unwound with a blinding intensity and she shook as her cunt clenched over nothing again and again. Fives kept at her throughout her orgasm, firmly pressing his tongue to her as she danced against it in order to carry her down. When she was passing pleasure and entering into the territory of too much, Orla put a hand on his head and gently urged it away from her and he released with an obscene pop sound. He gazed up at her, eyebrows drawn down into an expression of yearning and his eyes shining as bright as her slick on his chin. The sight was enough to draw an honest whimper from her.

“There, there meshla, you’re alright,” he cooed, now rubbing her legs and sides in order to sooth her. “You did so well, coming for me like that all wet and sweet. I was so happy when you told me how much you wanted to try something public that I just couldn’t help myself. I love you so, so much my beautiful Orla. ‘Want you to always feel good.” He rambled against her lower stomach as he rested his forehead there, praise spilling out of him like water from a too full cup. They stayed like that for a little while until she felt like she had more control over her body, the shivering and shaking dying down with her leveling breath. Finally he lifted himself and stood, hands coming to rest against her lower back as he delicately pressed her to him. “Are you good? I didn’t mean to be too much, especially before we got somewhere to be.”

Orla smiled widely, “It wasn’t too much Fives, in fact it was very much appreciated.”

He smiled back, “Well that’s good, I’d hate to have to tell the boys we had to cancel because the pussy was just too good.”

She snorted, “Oh I’m sure you would, lover.” Suddenly feeling a little shy, she continued, “Now, can you please help me finish getting ready? I don’t think I can do all these knots and twists myself.”

He reached up to cup her cheek and draw her down for a quick kiss, “Oh meshla I’d be more than happy to assist. Though, after that, and this being your first time trying this, how about we put some panties on you so the rope won’t rub as much?” 

This man- “What pair should I wear then daddy?” always so considerate of her. 

His grin was downright feral as he looked at her before taking her hand and leading her over to her wardrobe and pulling out the proper drawer, said drawer full of a rainbow of lace, cotton, satin, and mesh. Orla loved fun panties and Fives took full advantage of that, loving whenever she would ask him to choose for her so that he could picture what lay under her clothes all day. She was partial to a few pairs, but he most always chose the pair he plucked from the bunch now, a royal and baby blue number dyed in a marble pattern with ‘Want some?’ written across the ass in aurebesh. He ducked down and she again steadied herself with his shoulders as he now lifted each of her legs to fit into the slip of fabric, before drawing them up to her hips and smoothing the hems.

Then, after checking with her once again, he returned to the previously forgotten rope and from the last left knot, drew the tailings down to her apex. Twisting the ropes together some so that they’d sit between her labia, he drew them between her spread legs and went to her back to draw it up to the initial loop at the back of her neck. Pulling so it was snug but not tight, he brought both halves to come out to her hands, “Hold onto these for me love.” She complied and he came back around the front of her, taking a moment to admire what he’d done already. “Oh, yeah, it’s all coming together.” Orla snorted and lightly slapped his chest, he raised an eyebrow, “Is that the sort of game you want to play right now?”

“Maybe later.” She teasingly promised and he grinned back at her, now looping the rope from under her arms and between the first and second knot, the rope turning back on each side to return behind her back the way it had come. He followed and looped each side around the lengths that ran up her spine before indicating she should hold the rope again. He did the same process between the second and third knot and around her back before bringing up what was left of the rope and tying it off on the third knot. He stepped back then, eyes roaming up and down the planes and curves of her body, now decorated with blue and tied off with red, like a present just for him. He looked for a long, long while.

“You know what to do if this gets to be too much and you want to stop, right?”

She nodded seriously, “Five taps to your thigh, or say ‘Zillo’.”

He smiled like the sun, “Now how are we going to cover all this up?”

“Oh I really don’t know daddy, maybe you could help me with that too?”

“Orla, I have no idea what I did to deserve you but I love you so much, and I mean that with my whole ass.” He confessed with all seriousness.

Laughing again, she pressed against him and leaned down to kiss his wonderful mouth. Breaking apart again they went to inspect her clothes hanging in the closet. He reached in and pulled out a black dress with a halter top and flowy skirt that would fall about halfway down her thighs. He grinned, “Feeling like being a little risky today as well by any chance?”

“Yes please my love!” Slipping it over her head, Fives did up the three clips that secured the neck. Leaving the last bit up to her, Orla found a top to layer over it to better obscure the bondage beneath, and finished it up with a traditional self-tying corset from her people, quickly done up by pulling the two cords to either side of her and tying them in front. Meanwhile, Fives had quickly gone to change his shirt and give his face a wipe, both having been soaked by her earlier. Returning in a casual purple button up with red stitching along the collar, he looked like a treasure to be found in her people’s queen's harem.

“Looking good lover.” She told him as she bent to pull on her boots, the three inch platforms bringing her height to a full foot above his own. 

“Quacta, stifling.” he simply responded. 

Walking towards the door he asked, “Are we all ready to go meshla?” he turned and she 

smiled shyly again, feeling a blush turning the purple shades in her skin darker.

“Maybe not quite?” she intoned, moving back to the closet she opened it and pushed aside a few of his shirts to reveal a certain rack of jewelry, consisting of leather collars, some with rings on them, others otherwise decorative. “Which one do you think I should wear out today, daddy?”

In the end, they were a little late getting to the beer gardens.

🖤💜🖤

Oh I really liked writing this one. I know so far all my works have been coming out early in the morning the day after they’re supposed to be posted but I am going to try and fix that! Like the Tup and Aurelie work on the 1st, I feel like this one may come back with a part 2 because I’m really vibing with these two (and I hope y’all are too just as much as I am). 

Kinktober works

Masterlist

#sisterofleatherfrogwrites #kinktober #kinktober 2021 #star wars #the clone wars #sw #tcw #sw tcw #fives #ct-5555 #arc trooper fives #fives x oc #fives is my favourite smart dumbass

[ryukoishida]

Qian Qiu/Thousand Autumns Fic: In which YWS experiences qi-deviation and SQ helps out.

Title: Down for You Fandom: Qian Qiu / Thousand Autumns Characters/Ships: YanShen Rating: NSFW Chapter: 1/1 Summary: [Post Canon] While experimenting with further improving Fundamental Records of Phoenix-Qilin, Yan Wushi suffered from sexually-driven qi deviation, which he tried to hide from Shen Qiao. When Shen Qiao finally realized what was wrong and offered to help, Yan Wushi felt conflicted. A/N: Another qi deviation fic? Yes. Let me join in the fun too please and thank.

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Yan Wushi hated asking for help.

He viewed dependence on someone else as a weakness – a weakness that he as one of the strongest martial arts masters under the heavens had no need for. Even since he was young, he thrived on being on his own: with no other pupils to distract him, and no overbearing teacher to instruct him point-by-point, he was able to concentrate on his training and meditation in his own pace and direction that had taken him higher on the path to greatness and strength in the martial arts realm.

To Yan Wushi, other people were either nuisances for him to flick off like pestering flies or rivals worthy of challenging; friends were merely an unnecessary burden.

Taking on two disciples during the last few decades had not changed his perspective on this. He took on Bian Yanmei and Yu Shengyan knowing that their independent personalities would work well with his hands-off teaching method. And thankfully, both of his disciples turned out to be more than capable to handle themselves and sect affairs when he wasn’t around.

In short, Yan Wushi hated asking for help. He never saw the need, and so perhaps had forgotten how.

Subsequently, when Shen Qiao asked him what was wrong with the slightest hint of worry between his brows, out of pure habit, Yan Wushi smiled and replied lightly, if not a little breathlessly from the itching heat that was very slowly inching from his solar plexus to the rest of his body through his bloodstreams, “nothing, my beloved.”

Even speaking such few words proved to be challenging; his throat protested with a parched, sweet burn that could only be satiated with the touch of one person, and one person only.

But Yan Wushi didn’t dare ask. He’d already asked too much of Shen Qiao by being here with him, standing beside him as if they were equals.

Shen Qiao’s frown deepened a little, barely noticeable. The answer clearly didn’t satisfy the sect leader of Xuan Du, yet Shen Qiao was a patient man and was not one to force answers out of Yan Wushi until he knew his husband was ready to divulge. Heaving a soft sigh and aiming a knowing look at the other man, Shen Qiao only pressed his lips into a tight line and lowered his gaze back to the scroll he’d been reading.

It wasn’t the first time he’d experienced qi deviation. During the years in his training to reach the higher levels of the Fundamental Records of Phoenix-Qilin, Yan Wushi had suffered countless instances and variations of his qi running erratic in his meridian network – icy needles prickling his bones, bursting flames scorching his flesh, paralysis rendering him completely vulnerable – and he’d overcame each and every single one of them without anyone’s interference or assistance.

The slow-burning heat like molten lava crawling slowly up and down his limbs and prickling just beneath his skin was nothing he’d ever experienced before, but Yan Wushi was certain he could get through this troublesome phase with a few more days of meditation and rewiring of his meridian network.

“You will tell me if there is something wrong, will you not?” Shen Qiao’s gaze didn’t move away from the text on his scroll, but his voice was quiet and genuine with concern.

“Of course, Ah-Qiao.”

-

Three more days of silently suffering the gradually increasing discomfort of feverish sensitivity and the progressively difficulty of ignoring the pulsing desire running wild within his body that no meditation nor long soaks in cold water could suppress, Yan Wushi was desperate.

He wouldn’t allow his disciples or other servants near him for the last few days, and to Shen Qiao’s surprise, he’d even turned his own husband away, muttering something along the lines of not wishing to pass whatever illness he had to his beloved partner. Given any other day, Shen Qiao would have left him be, but Yan Wushi’s behavior had been too uncharacteristic even for the man’s eccentric personality, and that was the moment when the sect leader of Xuan Du couldn’t pretend to be oblivious anymore.

“Yan-zongzhu…”

After knocking on the door of their shared bedchamber in Yuxu Pavilion and receiving no reply, Shen Qiao gingerly opened the door and stepped in. Night had already fallen hours ago and the candles were burning low, the orange glow of the flames flickering when the evening breeze slipped in through the gap of the open door before stilling again.

“Yan-zongzhu?” Shen Qiao tried again, tone soft, making his way to the side of the bed, where Yan Wushi was lying on his back, blankets kicked messily to the side and clothing haphazardly loosened in a state of disarray. His breathing was shallow and harsh, skin flushed and streaked with sweat, exposed chest rising and falling in an abnormal rate that made Shen Qiao rushed the last few steps to the bed and reached out for his companion’s wrist.

He rested two fingers against Yan Wushi’s pulse point, attempting to get a reading, but before he could accurately diagnose the man’s condition, Yan Wushi pulled his arm away with a groan.

“Ah-Qiao…” Yan Wushi croaked out, his voice much hoarser and lower than usual from how dry the inside of his mouth was, and he cleared his throat, eyes fluttering open and head turning slightly to look at Shen Qiao. His pupils were dilated so that only a thin ring of red-brown could be seen. “As much as I appreciate your concern, there really is nothing for you to worry about.”

“Yan Wushi!” Shen Qiao’s patience was running thin, and Yan Wushi could tell because he was calling him by his full name. With quick reflexes, Shen Qiao caught his husband’s wrist again, this time using a bit more force to keep him in place as he tried to read his pulse once more. The palpitation was strangely rapid and inconsistent, with a rhythm that he wasn’t familiar with from any medical books he’d read.

Brows gathering into a deeper frown and lips tightening into a straight line, Shen Qiao placed his palm on the other man’s forehead, and was shocked at the burning temperature of his skin there. He continued his examination, gently feeling his cheek with the back of his hand, and then slender fingers were on the side of his neck – a man’s most vulnerable point, easily grasped and snapped into pieces – but Yan Wushi only craved more, Shen Qiao’s cool fingertips and innocent touches merely serving to ignite whatever was flaring wildly inside his body.

Shen Qiao detected a change in Yan Wushi’s breathing, and simply deduced that as being his condition worsening. He quickened his examination, his hand briefly resting on Yan Wushi’s sternum before sliding lower to his solar plexus, all the while focusing his own qi to the center of his palm to see if he could at least alleviate some of the discomfort and ease the stranded qi into flowing again.

“Hah…!” Yan Wushi jerked as the qi from Shen Qiao’s palm entered through his skin and into his meridian network. It had felt… good. Too good, in fact, that he was afraid he might lose control of himself if he didn’t stop what his dear husband was doing right now.  

In his current weakened state, Yan Wushi had no real strength to push back, and so he resorted to his infamous verbal skills. Lifting up his shuddering arm, he covered the back of Shen Qiao’s hand, which was still laying lightly across his husband’s stomach, with his own, interlaced their fingers together and pulled that pale jade hand towards his lips, murmuring against his warm skin in a low voice.

“Ah-Qiao… my good Ah-Qiao… do not be angry with me,” Yan Wushi was using his best impression of an overly-affectionate cat. His saccharine tone shouldn’t be so effective on Shen Qiao, but when it was paired with the teary-eyed gaze, flushed cheeks, and strands of star-white hair stuck to his temple, Shen Qiao felt the initial heat of his frustration simmered away until nothing but a soft smoldering tenderness was left.

Shen Qiao sighed but allowed Yan Wushi to keep holding his hand.

“Yan-lang, I am not angry, but I wish you would tell me right away when something like this happen. If you were to…” Shen Qiao’s mind flashed to the memory of Yan Wushi’s lifeless body lying on the cold, hard ground after his last fight with Hulugu, and he squeezed his eyes close, shaking his head viciously to tear himself away from that nightmarish image. “No, you cannot do that to me again. Promise me that you will not hide yourself like this next time you experience another instance of qi-deviation, or anything else.”

“Call me that again, and I will promise you anything you want.”

“Call you…?” Shen Qiao realized belatedly that he’d been addressing Yan Wushi with the pet name he only used sparingly during their most intimate moments, and he felt his face heating up from embarrassment. “Yan Wushi, this is a serious issue. If you continue to jest around as if your life is a joke —”

“How could I treat my own life as a joke when there is someone who care so deeply for me?” Yan Wushi lightly kissed the back of Shen Qiao’s hand before smiling up at him, the expression so indulgent and gentle – so unlike the usual bold and wolfish grin – that it took all of Shen Qiao’s self-control to not combust on the spot.

“Y-Yan-lang, that is beside the point.”

Despite his cold words, Shen Qiao conceded but quickly continued as if that little scene didn’t happen, “it seems like the flow of your qi is stuck somewhere along the Conception Vessel, probably between the Huiyin point and Qihai point, but it is better if we have a physician take a look—”

“Absolutely not,” Yan Wushi was adamant about this.

“Yan-lang, now is not the time to be headstrong,” Shen Qiao tried to persuade his partner. “Who knows what will happen if we do not act quickly to resolve the qi deviation?”

“This venerable one will not let anyone else touch me other than you.”

“I do not know how to help you…” Shen Qiao said, powerless against the demonic sovereign when he was acting so childishly, “perhaps with acupuncture…?”  

“I do,” Yan Wushi said quickly, “and it definitely does not involve needles.”

He internally shuddered at the thought of those sharp, silver, pointy metal bits entering his acupressure points.

“All right,” Shen Qiao acquiesced with a resigned sigh, “will you at least tell me how, then?”

“It is quite simple, really,” one corner of Yan Wushi’s lips curved up into a slight grin, and Shen Qiao suddenly had a bad feeling about this, “I just need Ah-Qiao to enter me and climax inside me while at the same time stimulate a few specific acupressure points on my body with your qi.”

“… pardon me?”

It was solely thanks to Shen Qiao’s strict upbringing that he didn’t instantly slap Yan Wushi across the face and leave.

Rather than repeating himself – because he was sure that Shen Qiao had heard exactly what he’d said – Yan Wushi guided his husband’s hand from his mouth and southward, past his chest and stomach, and finally let it rest on his crotch, which, despite the layers of clothing, was quite obviously stirring in interest, as it had been for the past few days no matter how many times Yan Wushi had tried to resolve this problem by himself.

“Please, Ah-Qiao, will you not help your poor husband out? You know I do not beg easily, but for you…” Yan Wushi grinded up against Shen Qiao’s palm, and even though that slight friction was not nearly enough to quench his yearning, knowing that it was Shen Qiao who was touching him down there was sufficient to make the demonic sovereign bite his lower lip to dampen the whimper that was slipping out prettily. His body trembled with want, aching to be touched; he had to internally force his own frame to remain in place instead of springing up like a predator to trap Shen Qiao within his arms.  

“Yan-lang, you know you never have to plead with me if you truly need help, right?” Shen Qiao was not used to seeing this side of Yan Wushi. Even as young as Xie Ling and as mellow as Ah-Yan were, none of his split personalities had ever acted like this. From Yan Wushi’s own perspective, this kind of behavior was unbecoming, a display of weakness, a sign of disgrace, and so he would never have allowed himself to fall into this pathetic state.

Shen Qiao’s fingers were twitching from the heat emanating from Yan Wushi’s erection, so it was a wonder he was able to inquire in a calm tone, “but are you certain that this is the only way to redirect your qi?”

“My good Ah-Qiao, please… I… I need you to touch me or I am literally going to die.”

Now Yan Wushi was being rather dramatic, and they both knew it. Even Shen Qiao was trying hard not to crack a smile at that as Yan Wushi continued his lament.

“Is that what you want? Do you want your husband to die from something as ridiculous as sexually-driven qi deviation?”

“For someone who is supposedly suffering, Yan-zongzhu sure runs his mouth too much,” Shen Qiao’s inhibition had melted away, and his worry seemed to have alleviated somewhat as well, after seeing that Yan Wushi was still capable of his melodramatic antics. “Shall I put your mouth to better use?”

Shen Qiao allowed himself to be pulled forward and down until their noses were nuzzling against each other’s, their breaths mingling hotly while the sect leader of Xuan Du ran his fingers back up to his exposed chest, splaying his hand against the patch of warm skin there. Feeling his husband’s heart thrumming beneath his fingertips, Shen Qiao’s own chest felt full of emotions that were impossible to put into words, so he didn’t try – not when he could communicate those feelings through his actions.

“And what does Shen-zhangjiao suggest?” Yan Wushi whispered, each word branding against the other man’s lips like the sweetest poison.

Shen Qiao wordlessly closed the distance between them, first with a chaste kiss of lips gently touching, and then almost instantly flared into a wet, messy clashing of mouths, teeth, and tongues initiated by Yan Wushi. Before long, however, even the demonic sovereign was feeling the radiating waves of heat and languor struck his muscles once more, and Shen Qiao was able to regain control by trapping Yan Wushi’s wrists to his sides while he counterattacked with biting kisses and soothing licks along the side of his neck.

Red and violet bruises bloomed like sweet fragrant alyssum blossoms where Shen Qiao’s mouth roamed, and the mere thought of the pure and virtuous Shen-zhangjiao of Xuan Du Sect marking him thus was making Yan Wushi harder than ever, and he made sure to let Shen Qiao know by releasing needy, broken moans of “Ah-Qiao” and “hurry”.

Soon enough, Shen Qiao had Yan Wushi’s robes removed and pants halfway tangled down his muscular legs, and while Shen Qiao had been imbued with an intoxicating sense of new-found confidence that had allowed him to initiate the kiss, yet as soon as he had laid bare Yan Wushi, his eyes roaming along the expanse of tanned skin and taut muscles aching to be touched and marred, the Daoist found himself hesitating once more.

He’d been kissing his way down his husband’s hipbone and the junction between his hip and thigh, and Shen Qiao could smell the musk of Yan Wushi’s arousal, which only served to make his cheeks heat up more. He froze at the sight of his husband’s swollen and dripping cock.

“You know…” Shen Qiao started, gaze downcast, “I have never done this before, so let me know if you feel any discomfort or pain…”

As if Yan Wushi needed that reminder.

He’d been trying so hard to maintain the last thread of self-control he had, too, and one innocent comment from his dear husband had completely shattered what sanity remained inside of him.

“My good Ah-Qiao,” Yan Wushi breathed out, reaching for the other man’s hands, and their fingers interlaced as if it was the most natural thing in the world, “no matter what you do to me, I am certain that I will have nothing but praises for you.”

Shen Qiao shook his head once and laughed softly, the sound and his expression so tender that Yan Wushi couldn’t help but squeeze his fingers tighter before guiding those same calloused hands to where Yan Wushi needed him to touch.

His cock was slick and hot – almost abnormally so, which Shen Qiao supposed made sense since this was a symptom of qi deviation – but it didn’t diminish the fact that it was big, the shine of pre-cum drooling from the tip simultaneously tempting and intimidating.

Shen Qiao swallowed at the sight despite Yan Wushi’s generous words, and tentatively, he licked the tip and contemplated the responsive shudder that ran up Yan Wushi’s spine.

A good sign, Shen Qiao mused quietly to himself, and then he did it again – small, experimental flicks of his tongue against the velvety skin of the head as if he was tasting a new flavor of candy. Shen Qiao decided he rather liked it, especially the interesting reactions his gesture seemed to be kindling in Yan Wushi, the way he hissed impatiently and tangling his fingers into Shen Qiao’s hair, tugging to beg wordlessly.

Encouraged by his husband’s response, Shen Qiao took it a step further, and envelope the entire head into the moist cavern of his mouth, first delicately wrapping his lips around the tip and taking care to not let his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin there, then slowly swallowing Yan Wushi centimeter by centimeter until he found it hard to breath and his jaw began to ach.

“Gods, Ah-Qiao, you are going to be the death of me…” Yan Wushi murmured shakily, his hand cradling the back of Shen Qiao’s head gently while fingers idly played with his frost green hair ribbon. The cold silk felt like cooling water in the springtime against his fingertips, and it reminded Yan Wushi of that one night when he used that exact hair ribbon to tie Shen Qiao’s wrists while he had his way with him.

The memories didn’t serve him well, for a stream of unfathomable heat and prickling desire blazed down his meridian network and made his cock twitch in Shen Qiao’s mouth.

Shen Qiao’s eyes flickered up to check on his husband, and noticed that Yan Wushi had one arm thrown across his face in an attempt to muffle his moans. His hazel eyes darkened, and he resumed to sucking; where his mouth couldn’t reach, Shen Qiao made use of his hand at the base, pumping in time with the movement of his mouth and tongue and sliding wetly up and down Yan Wushi’s length.

Feeling his thighs beginning to shake at the anticipation of release, Shen Qiao pulled up but his hand didn’t let up its pace. He peppered contrastingly soft kisses along the inside of Yan Wushi’s thigh while his hand tugged in a tempo that was verging on brutal, but that was exactly what Yan Wushi needed.

It didn’t take long for him to climax into Shen Qiao’s hand with a choked groan, and strands of white landed on his own abdomen as well as on his husband’s still clean and meticulous robes.

“W-was that all right?” Shen Qiao asked, uncertainty tinting his hoarse whisper as he climbed back up to look at Yan Wushi properly. He was about to measure the man’s pulse again when he saw tear streaks down Yan Wushi’s cheeks. Heart seized up in a panic, he quickly dabbed the wetness away with his sleeve, a trail of apologies ready on his tongue.

Yan Wushi caught his forearm and planted a small kiss on the inside of his wrist.

“It was more than all right,” Yan Wushi assured him with a languid smile, releasing Shen Qiao’s hand and raising his arm up to brush his thumb against the other man’s red and abused lower lip, the colour so mesmerizing that he couldn’t help but pull Shen Qiao down for a brief but dirty, open-mouthed kiss before murmuring against his ear once they both ran out of air, “in fact, I think I am already starting to feel better, but you know this husband needs more, right?”

Shen Qiao nodded, biting his lip. After easing off of Yan Wushi’s body, he shrugged off his soiled outer robe and moved to retrieve the ceramic vial that he knew his husband kept inside a hidden compartment by the side of their bed. He fumbled with the stopper until it popped out, and he shakily poured out a significant amount of carrageenan extract into his hand.

The texture of it was a little off-putting – a sticky gel-like consistency that reminded him of… another kind of bodily fluid – but he wanted to ensure that he wouldn’t hurt Yan Wushi in the process. After all, Shen Qiao himself wasn’t very experienced, and though this whole ordeal was nothing but a medical treatment, the sect leader of Xuan Du still needed to ensure that Yan Wushi would not be wounded further.

“You will tell me if I am hurting you, will you not?”

The concern in his eyes was genuine. Everything about Shen Qiao was genuine, and Yan Wushi used to think this kind of naturally honest nature was the trait of an absolute fool, yet here he was, in love with a so-called fool.

Maybe he was the one who’d become a fool after all this time.

He didn’t have enough time to contemplate any further than that, because Shen Qiao was kissing him on the mouth when he didn’t answer.

“Yan-lang?”

Yan Wushi couldn’t find it in himself to tease his husband this time, so with equal sincerity, he said, “I will, Ah-Qiao.”

“Good,” Shen Qiao nodded with a small satisfied smile.

With his fingers slicked up with lubricant, Shen Qiao once again returned his attention to his present task. He knelt between Yan Wushi’s legs, which he had opened up slightly wider to more easily accommodate his partner, and carefully slipped the tip of his middle finger into Yan Wushi’s puckered hole.

Unaccustomed to the strange sensation down there, Yan Wushi instinctively wanted to escape from the touch by closing his legs together, but Shen Qiao steadied him with his other hand by firmly pushing against his thigh while pushing his finger further in until the entire digit was swallowed up by the warm tightness.

“Nnng… Ah-Qiao… it feels odd…” Yan Wushi exhaled with a tremulous murmur.

“Odd in a good way or in a bad way?” Shen Qiao asked, stilling his motion and lifting his gaze back up to Yan Wushi’s face to observe his expression.  

“Undetermined,” Yan Wushi decided, letting his eyes fall close and breathing out to try to relax his body. The unyielding roiling waves of gnawing desire had subsided a little after he’d climaxed earlier, but with his qi still stuck, that unwelcoming stream of energy was beginning to gather at the pit of his stomach all too soon, causing his cock to stir again even though he hadn’t been touched there yet.

“Hm,” Shen Qiao only hummed thoughtfully. He opted to continue for now.

He pumped his finger in and out a few times to allow Yan Wushi to get used to the sensation before he increased the pace and added a second finger, crooking them in a shallow angle to find the correct acupressure points. To Shen Qiao’s delight, the gesture caused Yan Wushi’s breathing to quicken, his chest rising and falling in tormented groans. His cock lengthened and swelled with blood, and was soon back to its full strength.

“Haaah… Ah-Qiao, keep going…”

The fingering had felt good – so damn good – even though Shen Qiao claimed that he was inexperienced. He must have picked up some skills from Yan Wushi during their previous intimate nights, for after the early moment of embarrassment and hesitation, the way he manipulated Yan Wushi’s body with his slender and calloused fingers had become proficient and deadly.

“I am going to start transferring my qi through your acupoints starting from the Qugu point,” Shen Qiao said, trying to tear his eyes away from Yan Wushi’s debauched expression –  silvery-white and ink-black hair sticking to his sweat-slicked skin, eyes squeezed close, head craned back to expose the strong line of his throat, and the occasional moans slipping past his throat – but as he shifted his gaze back to where his fingers were, still buried deep within Yan Wushi’s hole, which had turned dusty pink and glistening from the extract around the ridge, Shen Qiao was starting to question his ability to carry on this operation.

“W-what?”

The feverish desire had reached its new height so that Yan Wushi was unable to think clearly. He was only vaguely aware that Shen Qiao said something and that he needed something much bigger and thicker to fill the void that was verging on swallowing his whole being.

“Never mind,” Shen Qiao said and took a deep breath to regain focus. With attentive eyes and precise execution, Shen Qiao directed the qi inside of his own body so that it flowed in a gradual stream towards the tips of his middle and ring fingers; when he grazed upwards, he aimed the flow of qi to the Qugu point, which was physically the closest to where his fingertips were.

From there, Shen Qiao pushed his qi forward, testing the give of the entire trail of Conception Vessel before forcing it through to the next acupoint, up Zhongji and pierced through to Guanyuan.

“Yan-lang, how do you feel?”

Yan Wushi had been chillingly quiet since Shen Qiao had started transferring his own qi into his husband’s body, and his abnormal silence made the Daoist thought that maybe the demonic sovereign was rejecting his qi due to their different martial arts origins.  

“Ah-Qiao…” he gasped, eyes hooded and the blood-red of his irises just a thin ring from his fully dilated pupils, “too… too much…”

Shen Qiao’s heart thudded against his ribcage at how wrecked Yan Wushi sounded. He’d never seen the man like this, even when he was lost in the deepest end of pleasure, and somewhere buried, hidden, and shaped by years of Daoist teachings and morals was an instinctive part of Shen Qiao that had woken up from seeing this vulnerable, intimate side of the usually self-assured and strong Yan Wushi, the cold, ruthless, selfish leader of Huan Yue Sect.

“Yan-lang,” Shen Qiao caressed his husband’s cheek in comfort, wiping away a stray tear that’d escaped his eyes, “we are almost there, just hold on for Ah-Qiao’s sake. Will you do that for me?”

Yan Wushi closed his eyes and shook his head, and his body seemed to suddenly stop being pliant as well.

Shen Qiao’s qi couldn’t advance further; if he kept forcing it, he might risk injuring the rest of Yan Wushi’s meridian system, and that was the last thing Shen Qiao wanted.

“All right, all right,” Shen Qiao cooed, gently taking his fingers out.

Yan Wushi sighed out with a shuddering breath, half in relief and half in lament at the dizzying empty feeling.

If this method didn’t work, he might need to find another way. Shen Qiao was nothing if not resourceful.

“Ah-Qiao, I want you…” Yan Wushi grasped Shen Qiao’s right hand and placed it pointedly against his husband’s clothed arousal, the fabric of which had already been darkened from spots of precum.

“!”

Shen Qiao shuddered when Yan Wushi weakly squeezed his cock through his trousers.

Well, Yan Wushi never had been one to beat around the bush, so Shen Qiao didn’t know what he’d been expecting.

“I —” Shen Qiao paused. Verbally expressing his affection for his husband still didn’t come easily to him, but there were rare moments like this that he found it to be the simplest, most natural thing to do. “I want you, too, Yan-lang.”

The candles were burning dangerously low, and a few had already extinguished, casting the room deeper into the night.

After removing the rest of his clothing, Shen Qiao folded the blanket into a make-shift cushion and placed it under his partner’s lower back before settling back between Yan Wushi’s legs. With one hand wrapped around Yan Wushi’s waist to steady him and the other gently parting the two mounds of firm muscles to reveal the slightly swollen hole, Shen Qiao lined himself up.

All this time, he’d been so focused on mending Yan Wushi’s meridian network that he’d been neglecting his own desire, and now that it’d been freed from the restraint of his undergarment, it was clear that Shen Qiao had been holding back.

He started slow – for both Yan Wushi and his own sanity.  

The tip went in easily enough from the ample preparation and Shen Qiao’s own precum lubricating the first part of the entry. The velvet heat that instantly surrounded him was intoxicating, and if Shen Qiao had less self-control, he’d have immediately slammed himself in as deep and hard as he could, but in the end, he managed to reign in that flaring craving that was slowly but surely burning his logic and patience into ashes.

Resisting the urge to thrust all the way in took all of Shen Qiao’s willpower; his knuckles turned white from how hard he was grasping onto Yan Wushi’s hips, which would surely leave bruises that the demonic sovereign would later smugly show his embarrassed husband.

Little by little, Shen Qiao pushed himself into that addictive and delicious heat, all the time still observing for any ailing changes in Yan Wushi’s body. If anything, it seemed having Shen Qiao slowly fucking himself into him only made him more vocal.

“D-do not stop, please… feels good…” Yan Wushi wasn’t helping a bit as he wrapped his legs tightly around Shen Qiao’s waist, imploring for him to go deeper.

Seeing that he wasn’t causing his partner any discomfort, Shen Qiao steeled himself and plunged all the way in until he was fully sheathed. He panted harshly into Yan Wushi’s mouth, who slipped his tongue sloppily into the offered mouth and teased Shen Qiao with filthy kisses that had them both breathing hard.

Shen Qiao finally lost that last strand of calm composure. Foreheads touching, eyes clouded by ravenous hunger, and forearms caging Yan Wushi’s yearning body between his arms, Shen Qiao pulled out slightly and thrusted back in, with enough force to make Yan Wushi gasp and scrambling for purchase.

He did it again and again, skin slapping against skin, the sound seeming to resonate within the walls of their sacred bedchamber, each time more urgent and more fervent than the last.

“Mnnn…. Fuck, Ah-Qiao feels so good inside me…”

“Haah… ah… do you feel no shame, Yan-zongzhu?” Shen Qiao nuzzled the side of Yan Wushi’s neck and kissed him roughly there, leaving more small bruises and teeth marks that wouldn’t fade for days.

“Aww… what happened to calling me ‘Yan-lang’?” Yan Wushi chuckled, placing one hand against the back of Shen Qiao’s head. A soft tug on the ribbon loosened the elegant twist of hair that cascaded over Shen Qiao’s pale shoulders like ink splashing on canvas. “Did I perhaps unknowingly anger Ah-Qiao?”

Shen Qiao paused, leaving only the tip of his cock inside his partner, which instantly drove Yan Wushi to buckle his hips upward in a sorry endeavor to tempt Shen Qiao into moving. He gave Yan Wushi a pointed glare, though the intended effect was dampened by the blush spreading from his cheeks down to his neck and chest and the fact that he was, in fact, fucking Yan Wushi into their bed.

“You know what you did,” Shen Qiao mumbled, finding himself impossible to be truly mad at him in this current situation.

“Hmm…” Yan Wushi scattered soft kisses on the other man’s forehead, eyelids, the bridge of his nose, and finally licking the shell of his ear, he continued with a grin, “can it be that Ah-Qiao is flustered by what I said?”

“There is no need for you to be using such foul and explicit language,” Shen Qiao argued, turning his head away, but it only gave Yan Wushi the perfect angle to kiss down his neck and nibble his collarbone.

“Oh, but there is a need,” Yan Wushi countered, tightening his legs around Shen Qiao’s waist so that he was dragged back into where Yan Wushi needed him to be. The fullness that had at first felt overwhelming was now a welcoming sensation, and he could feel the few acupoints that Shen Qiao had sent his qi through had been cleared, but there were still two spots that he knew needed to be unclogged before his own torrent of qi could flow smoothly and safely.  “I need to tell Ah-Qiao how well he had been treating this husband, do I not? And I cannot find the adequate language unless I am using those exact words. Is there something wrong with that? Does Ah-Qiao not like it when I give you compliments?”

“I-It is not like that!”

There was no use having a proper discussion with Yan Wushi’s twisted sense of logic, so Shen Qiao didn’t try to. Instead, he returned to his previous act, except this time he was thrusting in with more force and fire, almost like he was wordlessly taking his own personal vengeance against Yan Wushi’s body.

“Haaah… Ah-Qiao!” Yan Wushi groaned, casting a half-hearted accusatory glare at the other man when Shen Qiao hit the spot that made him see stars and his hole contract around his husband’s length. “… just because… just because you cannot see yourself winning the argument against this venerable one does not mean you should stoop to such low m— nnnng!” Distracted by the sudden onslaught of flickering flames licking down his back and in the pit of his stomach, Yan Wushi hadn’t noticed the fingers placed strategically across his abdomen until he felt a hot stream of foreign qi invaded his meridian network – just as Shen Qiao’s cock was sweetly, torturously invading his inside.

The pleasure that bloomed and erupted from the coil seated deep within him was blinding; it was wonderful and terrifying, devastating yet cherished. Yan Wushi hardly noticed Shen Qiao’s climax when he was still convulsing and quivering from his own release; thick ropes of milky white cum landed and splattered messily on his own chest and tainted Shen Qiao’s unmarred skin.  

His mind was blissfully blank for a brief moment while he waited for Shen Qiao to come down from his high. He sensed more than knew that he was filled to the brim with his husband’s seed, and that the last acupoints had been broached to allow his qi to flow effortlessly again.

The last candle burned out, and the room sank into complete darkness except for the hint of watery light from the crescent moon outside.

“Yan-lang?” Shen Qiao wanted to pull out but an arm thrown carelessly around his lower back stopped him from doing so. He heaved a soft sigh but remained in Yan Wushi’s embrace, laying his head against his husband’s chest despite the sticky, sweaty mess they’d made of each other.

“Hmm?” his voice rumbled in the dark, like the earth trembling beneath Shen Qiao’s feet, the sound irritatingly lackadaisical yet strangely kept his heart and mind at peace.

“Your meridian network…?”

“Thanks to Ah-Qiao’s magnificent medical skills, I believe my qi deviation has been treated and my meridian network perfectly restored,” Yan Wushi said, playing with a strand of Shen Qiao’s hair.

Shen Qiao exhaled in relief.

“Though to be certain that it is entirely healed, we might need to have the same treatment performed again, under Shen-zhangjiao’s skillful practice, of course.”

“Yan Wushi!”

Shen Qiao slapped him on the bicep, which only made Yan Wushi snicker harder.

When his laughter finally died down, and he could hear Shen Qiao’s breathing mellowing, Yan Wushi combed his fingers soothingly through his husband’s slightly tangled locks and murmured against the crown of his head.

“Shen Qiao.”

“Hmm?” he mumbled sleepily.

“Ah-Qiao.”

Shen Qiao opened his eyes blearily and pushed himself up just enough to look at Yan Wushi, who was gazing at him with bright eyes and a tender smile.

“Yes?”

A bit of his lucidity returned at the sight of Yan Wushi’s expression.

“I promise you,” Yan Wushi held onto Shen Qiao’s hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, “from this day on, I promise that no matter what kind of problems I may encounter, Ah-Qiao will be the first to know. In return, will you promise to stay by this venerable one’s side no matter what may become of me?”

“Silly Yan-lang,” Shen Qiao pecked him lightly on the forehead before making himself comfortable on Yan Wushi’s chest again, “always.”

#thousand autumns #qian qiu #yanshen #shan he jian xin #yan wushi #shen qiao #bowie's crappy writing

[artificialqueens]

Level Up, Chapter Eleven (Branjie) - Holtzmanns

“I don’t think I could come up with anything negative about you.”

Brooke’s eyes are sincere as she says it, and Vanessa’s heart starts to beat just a little bit faster. Vanessa’s a person who’s always on the go, not one to slow down if she doesn’t have to but Brooke has the ability to make her world pause for just a second. Brooke changes Vanessa’s focus from what’s in front of her to solely her, and Vanessa almost wishes she could keep it there forever.

It’s never that hard for Vanessa to come up with words to reply with, especially not towards Brooke, but her brain feels like it has shuddered to a stop, pressing on the brakes because the small smile on Brooke’s face is more important to focus on. She could say something stupid, something funny, maybe return the sentiment but she doesn’t get a chance to decide on what to do before Yvie lets out a scoff.

“Except for your dislike of Chicken Little. That’s a negative if I’ve ever seen one.”

AN: Hi, I'm still alive, I promise. Popping back into this lovely fic nearly eight months later (a new job, a new apartment, a new city, and a new cat later too) and I love it just as much as I did in January. Eight months is good for plot to marinate and develop and I'm excited to get back to writing this fic again. If you're still around for this journey, thank you and know I'm so grateful for it. Please do tell me your thoughts if you read! Thank you writ for betaing ily <3

“So you have that interview with Glamour, I’ll set it up for some time this week, and Teen Vogue wants to do something on their Youtube channel. Who knew that was a thing? I’m working on Adidas’ rep to finagle a sponsorship outta them, and Under Armour on the backburner just in case-”

Vanessa bursts through the doors of the gym while Detox continues talking in her ear, not at all apologetic about the way that she has to interrupt her as she ambles towards Brooke’s office. “Just reached the gym. We’ll have to continue this later, ‘cause training waits for no one, right?”

“I see exactly what you’re doing, but I’m not mad at it. Go work on building those boxing skills that’ll keep lining your pockets for years. Toodles!”

Vanessa lets out a snort when Detox hangs up the phone. “Toodles? Who the hell says that?”

“Detox?” Brooke looks up from her book, an amused smile on her face. “I know that trick.”

“What trick?” Vanessa squints her eyes as she sits down, trying to read the cover of Brooke’s paperback. “Are you reading Chicken Soup for the Soul? ”

Brooke waves a hand. “Doesn’t matter. And the trick of dipping out of Detox’s phone calls. Why else would you get to the gym so early?”

“Oh, come on. I’m early sometimes. Occasionally,” Vanessa grins, and Brooke doesn’t buy it in the least from the way she raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not. I like Detox, I really do, don’t get me wrong. She’s hysterical and good at her job, real good at it, but damn.”

“Detox works hard,” Brooke nods, understanding in her eyes. “It’s a lot to handle sometimes.”

“She cranks up the exposure by a million and targets it in specific places and it works, ‘cause I have a lot of followers and deals now but…”

“But what?”

Brooke leans forward, pushing her book to the side as she looks earnestly at Vanessa. It’s striking, sometimes, how Brooke gives her full attention. How much she cares sometimes.

It’s nice.

“It feels real wild, y’know? Like all I did was become a meme, and now my face is going to be in a Spotify commercial. How does that jump happen?” Vanessa shifts in her chair, letting out a sigh. “It’s only been a few weeks.”

It’s as if Vanessa is riding in a car that’s only getting faster and faster, not quite in control of the steering wheel or knowing when she’s going to be able to stop. Sure, the ride is fun, but it also feels like she’s driving without a license, as if she’s skipped the learner’s permit stage and hit the highway instead.

“She wants to capitalize on it as much as possible. Keep you in the spotlight even after the next big meme rolls around,” Brooke shrugs, before pausing for a second, a look of concern in her eyes. “It’s not too much, is it? I can always talk to Detox with you if you feel like it’s overwhelming-”

“Nah, I’ll survive,” Vanessa shrugs, giving her best reassuring smile to Brooke. “Lush sent me some free shit the other day. I like goodie bags.”

Brooke snorts. “Fair enough. Bath bombs are a reason to keep going.”

“Want some? I got enough for a month's worth of spa days.” Vanessa makes a mental note to bring some of the freebies for Brooke on their next practice. She’s earned half of everything, at least.

“You have any of the sakura ones?” Brooke is tentative with her question, and Vanessa nods enthusiastically.

“You’re getting all of ‘em.”

“Now, hold on a second-”

“It’s six. Don’t we have practice to start?” Vanessa’s up and out of the office before Brooke can protest any further. “I’m gonna go change.”

Practice is nice. Practice feels familiar amongst all the new chaos in Vanessa’s life. It lets her turn her brain off and get away from the people that recognize her out in public, the way her Instagram is now solely for sponsored posts. The way she feels like a caricature of herself, almost, because others have an opinion of who she is based on a ten second video clip.

But practice isn’t like that. In the gym, Brooke is the same as ever, pushing and pushing her until sweat is drenching her back and her mind is spinning and she feels more alive than she ever has. When Brooke throws moves at Vanessa that she has to work in overdrive to block and counter with some of her own, it’s familiar. Even though she’s tired and gasping for breath, it’s what she knows how to do, and in an environment that isn’t unsettling or foreign.

The best part about it? Vanessa can still feel herself learning. Growing. Stepping up to the challenges that Brooke throws at her. Sure, she’s not aching to get back into the competition ring anytime soon, but the approving smiles from Brooke when she gets in a good hit or when she avoids a shot that would previously knock her on the ground gives her a thrill every time.

The end of practice leaves Vanessa with a new sense of longing that’s only been present the last few weeks, since this whole meme mess has started. Leaving the gym is hard, because it means Vanessa has to go outside again, pull her hat down when passerby on the sidewalk give her a second look. She has to unlock her phone and pretend to be busy, but then she’s faced with comments pouring in on every social media account that she opens. She can text one of her friends but it’s hard to continue a conversation, really, after it starts with a rousing Miss Vanjie, no matter how much in jest.

Being outside the gym means that she’s reminded of her new loss of normalcy.

She takes her time switching back into her sweats after she showers, dragging her feet as she leaves the change room with her gym bag slung over her shoulder. When she squints her eyes she can see Brooke at the far end of the gym, teetering on a stool as she repositions one of the crooked banners. Brooke turns around almost as if she can tell Vanessa is there, a good natured smile and an easy wave following immediately.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Need any help?” Vanessa’s stalling a bit by asking, but maybe Brooke really could use a hand with the banners, or at least an extra set of eyes to make sure that they’re nice and straight.

She’s just helpful, that’s all.

Brooke, to her credit, doesn’t call Vanessa out for it as she squints, admiring her handiwork. “I think they’re as aligned as they’re ever going to be. I’m going to get ready to leave for the night, too.”

“Oh,” Vanessa doesn’t mean to sound a little disappointed as Brooke jumps off the stool, fiddling with the jacket that’s slung across her arm. “Already?”

“It’s almost eight thirty,” Brooke points out, padding past Vanessa towards her office door and grabbing her coat off of the hook. “You’re not tired and ready to go home yet?”

“I just…”

Vanessa trails off, looking down at the ground. She’s not sure what to say, really. All that’s waiting for her is her apartment, but she can’t mindlessly scroll Twitter or Instagram before bed without seeing her face again. She needs to reply to her friends’ texts, but the notifications are piling up on top of one another like a mountain that she’s not really sure how she’s going to climb.

Vanessa just wants to avoid it all.

Brooke pauses, and each second that passes makes Vanessa’s heart constrict because maybe she should just try to explain, but she doesn’t know how to and it feels like too much-

“C’mon. My roommate and I are having a late dinner and rewatching Chicken Little. Are you in for a nacho night?”

Brooke’s looking at her expectantly and Vanessa wants to say yes, but what pops out of her mouth is what’s pressing on her even more. “Did you say rewatching Chicken Little?”

“It’s a good movie!” Brooke’s defensiveness makes Vanessa crack a smile despite how restless she feels, how much she’s fidgeting while standing in place. “Come over and you’ll see.”

“Y’know, we haven’t talked about movies before, but this recommendation is making me question what your taste is like,” Vanessa lets out a giggle, when Brooke’s mock offense takes over her face as she puts a hand to her heart.

“The disrespect. You’re not getting nachos with those kinds of statements,” Brooke grabs Vanessa’s gym bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she holds the door open. “Now c’mon.”

Brooke’s apartment is not what Vanessa expects - there are colours and tapestries lining the walls and even one on the ceiling, and she’s pretty sure she sees a bong on top of the refrigerator. It’s pretty, though, with the art splashed across every free surface and the shelves filled with books upon books, piles of even more on the actual floor. Vanessa has to resist the urge to go and sit down on the wicker chair in front of the television that’s suspended from the ceiling.

“Yvie’s the one behind the decor.” Brooke has a knowing smile on her face and Vanessa can feel her cheeks heat up, from how easily Brooke can read her mind. “Moved in a few years ago after she broke up with a long term partner. Never really got around to adding things of my own to the walls.”

Vanessa snickers before she can even get her joke out properly. “What would you add? A Chicken Little poster?”

Brooke, for her part, doesn’t miss a beat. “Nah. A poster of your meme.”

“Wow-”

“I know we were thinking nachos, but picture this. Chicken nuggets while we watch Chicken Little.” A girl with bright green hair pops her head out from behind a door, waving at the two of them.

Vanessa waves back, her eyebrows lifting higher and higher on her forehead when she realizes how tall the girl is as she walks closer. Even Brooke has to look up at her which is a strange sight on its own, considering how much Brooke towers over Vanessa.

Then again, Vanessa’s used to being the short one.

“Vanessa here is doubting the movie’s genius,” Brooke raises an eyebrow, and the girl lets out a fake gasp.

“Um, not a movie. Chicken Little is a film. An artistic masterpiece.”

“Are you two the presidents of the Chicken Little fan club?” Vanessa asks, as Brooke sticks her tongue out at her.

“Yes. And no, you can’t join.”

It’s interesting how Brooke’s work demeanor has dropped now that she’s in her own apartment, her normally squared shoulders a little more relaxed. It reminds Vanessa of when they went roller skating, seeing how much fun Brooke had while pulling her around the rink.

Vanessa wants to see more of it.

Brooke points at her roommate as the girl sticks out a hand. “Ness, this is Yvie. Yvie, Vanessa. I’m coaching her.”

“You’re introducing her as if I haven’t heard you talk about her every single day for the last however many months,” Yvie drawls and Brooke’s sputter is immediate, making Vanessa’s breath hitch a little in her throat.

Brooke talks about her?

Yvie pats Brooke on the back as if she’s choking on her water rather than on some words, sticking her other hand out for Vanessa to shake. “You’re Brooke’s favourite student. Also her only student, technically, but still a favourite nonetheless.”

Brooke’s cheeks are bright pink and Vanessa can’t deny that the sight is adorable, seeing her flustered for once. Still. Brooke probably recaps their training sessions and nothing more.

“As long as it’s mostly positive,” Vanessa shrugs, and the way Brooke emphatically nods makes her feel better than she wants to admit.

“I don’t think I could come up with anything negative about you.”

Brooke’s eyes are sincere as she says it, and Vanessa’s heart starts to beat just a little bit faster. Vanessa’s a person who’s always on the go, not one to slow down if she doesn’t have to but Brooke has the ability to make her world pause for just a second. Brooke changes Vanessa’s focus from what’s in front of her to solely her, and Vanessa almost wishes she could keep it there forever.

It’s never that hard for Vanessa to come up with words to reply with, especially not towards Brooke, but her brain feels like it has shuddered to a stop, pressing on the brakes because the small smile on Brooke’s face is more important to focus on. She could say something stupid, something funny, maybe return the sentiment but she doesn’t get a chance to decide on what to do before Yvie lets out a scoff.

“Except for your dislike of Chicken Little. That’s a negative if I’ve ever seen one.”

The platter of chicken nuggets that Yvie places on the coffee table with a flourish is impressive, to say the least. There’s a little bowl of ketchup on the side, along with sweet and sour sauce and something that looks to be...ranch?

Whatever it is, Vanessa’s nose wrinkles at the sight. “Which one of you eats ranch with chicken nuggets? Is that legal?”

Yvie’s cackle and Brooke’s flushed cheeks tell Vanessa all she needs to know as she plops down beside Brooke on the couch, nudging her side. “Really?”

“The flavour combination is great!” Brooke mutters, grabbing a chicken nugget and dipping it in the ranch for posterity, holding it up close to Vanessa’s face. “Try it.”

Vanessa scooches herself towards the edge of the couch, away from the chicken nugget and the ranch that’s slowly dripping down like a melting ice cream. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s delicious-”

“It’s cursed-”

“More for me, then,” Brooke tosses the chicken nugget into her mouth, and Vanessa’s not sure, really, how she’s handling the flavours together without puking. “You’re missing out.”

“Very happy to miss out on that, thank you very much. I’ll take the ketchup.”

It turns out that Chicken Little isn’t so bad with Yvie and Brooke peppering in commentary as they watch, and Vanessa finds herself getting swept into the plot, as ridiculous as it is. The glass of cider that Yvie’s brought for each of them is making Vanessa feel a little more relaxed, her shoulders not as stiff anymore as she leans against the back of the couch. It’s fun to watch Brooke’s face, really, and the way she lights up while quoting the movie as it plays.

Vanessa makes a mental note to invite Brooke over to watch more movies. Better movies. Expand her palate. Chicken Little cannot be at the top of Brooke’s movie pyramid, not when there are better choices available, like Pretty Woman. Sure, Vanessa’s not exactly a film connoisseur herself, but still. Anything beats Chicken Little, right?

Maybe it’s just the cider settling in, maybe it’s the full stomach of chicken nuggets, but...it’s nice. Comfortable. Vanessa pulls her feet up behind her on the couch before grabbing a throw pillow to hug on her lap, and really, she could fall asleep right where she’s sitting, even to the dulcet tones of the main chicken character screaming about an alien invasion. Brooke looks over as Vanessa settles herself more into the couch, her expression unreadable but then she reaches over the back of the couch, grabbing the throw blanket behind them.

“Wanna share? It’s kinda cold.”

It’s not cold and Vanessa knows it, she knows that Brooke does too, but Brooke’s face is soft and tentative and adorable and sharing a blanket with her would make the couch situation even more cozy.

Plus, she can cuddle with Brooke, because Brooke is tall and thus is a tall, comfortable cushion to lean against.

Brooke throws the blanket across both of them and Vanessa scoots closer to her so that their laps are covered, the fabric fuzzy and warm. The side of Vanessa’s upper thigh leans against Brooke’s and she’s not sure why she’s so hyper aware of the fact, or why Brooke’s arm across the back of the couch makes her want to snuggle in even closer.

It’s just Brooke, after all. Brooke, who’s seen her when she’s all sweaty and about to collapse on the gym floor. Brooke, who had been there at her worst after the last tournament and still wants to coach her and spend time with her. Brooke, whose secret love for Twilight will never fail to make Vanessa laugh.

If it’s just Brooke, then why is Vanessa’s heart taking flight in her chest when Brooke starts to absentmindedly trace patterns on her palm? She doesn’t know why Brooke’s touch is lighting up a pattern of sparks on her skin either, or why Brooke’s side is so comfortable to lean against. Why Vanessa almost wishes that the movie could go on forever, so that she can stay warm and safe under Brooke’s arm that’s now draped across her shoulders.

Maybe Vanessa doesn’t need answers for all of those questions, not yet, not if finding out the answers would mean disrupting the delicate balance that hangs in the air between them. Brooke shuffles a little bit and when Vanessa’s head ends up against her chest, she can feel the way Brooke’s heart is beating, surely faster than any heart should. It’s a contrast from how seemingly relaxed the rest of Brooke’s body is, how her arms around Vanessa aren’t tense, restricting, but rather grounding, pulling her down.

Leaning back against Brooke is warm, familiar. It’s a feeling of home in a situation so novel, so different from how they usually are, like pulling on a sweater that Vanessa’s not sure how she’s ever lived without. Maybe, just maybe, Vanessa doesn’t ever have to take it off.

Vanessa doesn’t realize that the credits start rolling on the screen until Yvie rolls off of the lilac armchair, reaching for the remote on the coffee table. She lets out a yawn, stretching her arms up high before shutting off the TV. “I, for one, am exhausted. And as fun as this was, it’s my bedtime.”

Brooke snickers, and Vanessa can feel the way her chest reverberates underneath her. “You and I both know you’re about to go Facetime Scarlet.”

“That’s what bedtime means,” Yvie wiggles her eyebrows, and Brooke’s noise of disgust is immediate.

“Horrifying. You two better keep it down this time. My ears still haven’t recovered from overhearing you both last week,” Brooke shudders as Yvie cackles, shutting the door to her bedroom with a click.

Vanessa turns in Brooke’s grip, shooting a questioning look. Surely Yvie can’t be louder than the average person on Facetime. “Overhearing what?”

Brooke makes a face, the haunted look in her eyes almost comedic from the way that she sighs. “Let me put it this way. Yvie and her girlfriend are in a long distance relationship, which is hard on them for a multitude of reasons. One of them being their libidos.”

“Their libidos…” Vanessa trails off, her face falling when she realizes what Brooke means. “Oh no. Not that. Tell me not that.”

“Exactly that. They’re quieter over Facetime than they are when Scarlet visits, at least. That’s a blessing.”

Vanessa shudders. Sure, she’s not exactly quiet in bed either, but the thought of people on the other side of the wall being able to hear everything is horrifying, especially because of the fact that she lives with Alexis. Her sister does not need to know details about her sex life, that’s for sure.

Still, Vanessa wonders how loud Yvie must be. “How do they even make so much noise with phone sex, anyway? Yodel?”

“Mating calls that would fit in perfectly in a National Geographic documentary,” Brooke lets out a snicker, her hand clapping over her mouth when Yvie lets out an ‘I heard that!’ from behind her bedroom door. “Still, glad I’m not about to suffer through overhearing it alone. You’ve saved my evening.”

Vanessa snorts, pulling back from Brooke’s embrace to face her, leaning against the back of the couch. “Glad to be of service.”

Brooke is softness and kindness and contentment all at once, and the easy smile on her face is one that Vanessa feels so lucky to see the longer and longer that she knows her. It’s moments like these that Vanessa wants to hold on to forever - when Brooke’s guard is down, when her posture is relaxed and she’s looking over with eyes that Vanessa could drown in. She wants to package up this version of Brooke that isn’t tethered by reminders of her past, or with upholding a legacy that defines her whether she likes it or not. At times like this, Brooke isn’t a boxer with her father’s last name, or Vanessa’s coach responsible for facilitating her success. She’s just Brooke, a girl whose gaze is so mesmerizing that makes Vanessa’s breathing hitch in her throat without even realizing it.

Brooke holds out a hand and it’s almost second nature for Vanessa to link her fingers with hers, their hands fitting together in a way that doesn’t make sense, not when Vanessa’s hands are so much smaller. But Brooke’s grip is an anchor that keeps her from floating away, one that centers her and lets her focus on the upward curve of Brooke’s lips, the softness of her eyes when she smiles.

Except then Brooke’s brow is furrowing, a hint of concern in her eyes that Vanessa wants to brush away for her. “You okay? You’re quieter than usual.”

Vanessa can feel her face heating up as she stutters, pulling her eyes away from Brooke’s face to focus on the stitching along the couch cushions. “I’m fine. I...nothing.”

She can’t exactly go out and tell Brooke, someone who’s a coach and also a friend for that matter, that she’s just a little bit mesmerized by her face. Not something that’s likely to go over well.

Vanessa’s past relationships have been nothing short of peacocking, making herself known to those she’s had an interest in because they’d inevitably chase her right back. She knows her worth, knows how to go after what she wants, but…

What does she even want, now?

She doesn’t want Brooke, she can’t, not when Brooke is her coach and someone who’s becoming more and more important towards every aspect of her life, someone who she texts when she wakes up in the morning and who she’s messaging as she’s falling asleep.

Brooke’s not the type of person that Vanessa can parade around and go on a few dates with while drinking the cheapest wine on the menu for shits and giggles. She’s not someone that Vanessa can let go of easily, the way she’s had to with previous relationships that didn’t work out. Brooke is different from them.

She’s not disposable, not someone that Vanessa wants to let go of from her life. She isn’t someone that Vanessa can let go of at this point, because the thought of not seeing her amused expressions in the gym or the pride on her face while they’re training is too much to deal with. Vanessa’s only beginning to read through Brooke’s pages to learn more about her, and finding out little details that make her want to melt and pull Brooke just a little closer to her heart.

Brooke is too important.

Sure, Vanessa’s breath hitches in her chest whenever Brooke pulls her closer, and maybe Brooke’s smile is enough to drown out any background noise buzzing around them, but Vanessa also knows that she falls hard. And fast. She’s impulsive, following what her heart tells her to do and most of the time, she can deal with the consequences because she knows she’ll be able to get back up again.

But if this is a miscalculation? If saying something means that they’ll end up in pieces that neither of them will be able to put back together?

It’s too big of a risk. At least, for now.

Vanessa can’t be the one to take the jump off the cliff, not yet.

So she smiles, puts on the most reassuring expression that she can, hoping that it’s enough to soothe the concern that splays itself across Brooke’s features. “Really, I am. Just thinking about all the press shenanigans that Detox has lined up for me tomorrow.”

It’s enough for Brooke’s features to relax just a little bit, the smile on her face almost nostalgic. “I’m glad it’s you now, and not me, on Detox’s receiving end. She’s ruthless in the best way.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

There’s a sinking feeling in Vanessa’s chest by going for the cop out, but...she has no other choice. It’s not the way she normally handles situations like this, a fact made clear by how much she has to push down the butterflies in her stomach, and hide them behind a door so that they don’t escape and ruin stakes that feel too high, too much of a risk.

Still, Vanessa’s a bit of a sucker for punishment, and so when Brooke pulls her closer into a hug, it’s as easy as breathing to snuggle into her and rest her head against her chest, because Brooke’s arms are warm and safe and manage to slow her thinking down just a bit.

Part of Vanessa feels like she can handle it and hold herself back from doing anything stupid, if only to not mess everything up. She can be this close to Brooke and not have her chest split in two and maybe it’s a blessing, and something that she has to hold on to. Except that by leaning against Brooke, she can feel how fast Brooke’s heart is beating, threatening to escape from her chest before she can possibly stop it. It’s a contrast from the gentle way that Brooke’s fingers run through her hair, betraying the calmness on the outside that she’s trying so hard to convey.

Maybe Vanessa’s not the only one holding back. Maybe Brooke also feels it, maybe she’s also teetering on the bridge that Vanessa’s trying her best not to lose her footing on, and the thought gives Vanessa pause for a second, because maybe the risk is one they can manage, something they can work with...

No. No.

They can’t.

Not if it would lead to everything falling to pieces around them, not if it would mean no more training and no more Brooke in general. Because that’s how relationships always seem to end, don’t they?

As much as Vanessa has always wanted the romantic movie ending and a kiss in the rain, it hasn’t happened to her yet, much to her teenage self’s disappointment. There’s too much on the line to see if Brooke will be the one to veer her onto a different path and change the outcome.

So, Vanessa has to be happy with what she’s getting now, this friendship with Brooke and the coaching and accept it for all that it’s worth. Because Brooke’s important, maybe the most important person in Vanessa’s life and she has to take what she gets.

She’s lucky enough to have it in the first place, after all.

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #brooke lynn hytes #branjie #lesbian au #boxing au #boxer au #level up #holtzmanns

[ghostietoasty]

Why Sherlock Holmes FGO is Sus: Theories and More

Before I begin, I’d like to give thanks to my wonderful friend for all the points, art, and info searching that have been made to produce this piece, I can’t appreciate you enough for the effort you put in. 🥺🙏💕

Alright now on to it!

INTRODUCTION: Humble Beginnings (Identification of the Abnormal)

If you’ve played the app Fate/Grand Order for a while you’d know about the Heroic Spirit we first encounter in a hole within Camelot’s dessert whilst going to the Atlas Institute. Smart, handsome looking, and sharp enough to discern our True Name, this man of mystery has been seen as an oddball by many long time players of the game. There are many aspects about him that raise doubt about his credibility, is he truly what he wants us to think he is? That servant is Sherlock Holmes (Ruler) and there are many theories about him having some secrets, about him either being a Foreigner class, Beast class, or something else entirely. We are attempting to catalogue all this information in one place for maximum clarity.

SECTION 1: Other Character’s Reaction (First Impression is the Best Impression) *WARNING LOSTBELT 1 AND 2 SPOILERS AHEAD*

From the first encounter in Camelot right until the end of Lostbelt 2, there are many instances of characters reacting to his presence in….interesting ways.

Bedivere, when first coming in contact with Holmes in Camelot says that "I suppose I've never really been good with people like him. He reminds me of Merlin."

It could refer to the mysterious manner in which both Holmes and Merlin conduct themselves, but better to keep in mind that Merlin is a Grand Caster, and that he manifests as a servant due to specific circumstances (he is not dead).

In Camelot, Mash assumes that Holmes must be Caster class and that the original novels by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle must have been biographies penned by Dr. Watson under a pen name. Holmes corrects her, saying that: "My true identity, my essence, is slightly different from what you may think. And sad, but that is not the purpose of our gathering here today."

This dilemma is also present in the Sherlock Holmes Trial Quest (which mostly tackles the debate of whether he's a fictional character or someone who actually existed). Holmes has a line where he says:

"Ah, yes. I mentioned I was a Caster. Forgive me, I lied."

This is however immediately followed up by:

"A jest. My apologies. I couldn't help myself." 

This sort of backpedalling raises a doubt as to whether he was really Caster class before, so the nature of his former class is still a mystery. He later mentions that his Ruler class is the World telling him that not all illusions and dreams need to be laid bare.

When meeting with Salieri in Lostbelt 1, Holmes introduces himself as such:"I'm Sherlock Holmes, Chaldea's administrative advisor. I became a servant through unusual means, just like you."

Salieri was only summonable as a servant  because of his reputation caused by the fact that he killed Mozart. He is under the effect of Innocent Monster. It can also be said that Salieri is a lostbelt servant and is significantly more sane than he would have been in a normal summoning, that was the unusual summoning that Holmes was refering to. Does this mean Holmes is not from Proper Human History? 

Sigurd (who's under the control of Surtur), while attacking us in Lostbelt 2 says this: "So, a human and two Heroic Spirits. No, wait. Neither of you are pure Heroic Spirits, are you? You've both got something else mixed in. Hehe, hybrids then. Interesting" 

This is in reference to Holmes and Mash, who are alongside the master at this moment. Mash is a demiservant (human+servant) hence the "Hybrid" comment makes sense, but Holmes? What is the "something else" mixed in with Holmes?

Later in LB2, Holmes requests the assistance of Scáthach-Skadi in beating Surtur. Skadi says that normally she would never pay mind to what a mere Heroic Spirit had to say but: "...but in your particular case…I sense wisdom in those beautiful eyes. You remind me of Baldr, god of light." Quite a bit later, she also has this to say:"Perhaps those piercing eyes of yours in fact surpass Odin's? Mystic Eyes, perchance? ….No, that's not it. They merely reflect your wisdom born of human history's cumulative accomplishments."

She says that's not it, but the fact that it was the first thing she thought of shouldn't be ignored. 

Baldr is the god of light. Holmes' attacks consist of beams of light, and his cane lights up when he's using it in battle.

In Norse legends, Odin is said to have sacrificed one eye to the spring of Mimir in order to get ancient wisdom, the ability to perceive everything in the world. 

SECTION 1.5: More Reactions (From JP Only)

Since it is JP only and there is no official translation for NA yet, this information cannot be 100% confirmed in any way. (Most of this is from Reddit translation done by fans). But as these are also important, it's best to put this information separate section.

Moriarty's interlude involves him finding a micro-singularity in London. At some point the transmission between Chaldea and the master gets cut and Moriarty reveals he created this scenario, made the singularity and everything to get one on one time with the master. He tells us not to trust Holmes. When the time comes, we as master should choose Moriarty over Holmes. 

It has to be kept in mind that Moriarty is not a good guy, he is a character created entirely to oppose Holmes so it is natural that he doesn't trust him. For all we know, it is just emotional manipulation. 

Moriarty's very nature is tied to being the antithesis of Holmes. Holmes might theoretically go against us for the sake of humanity while also trying to keep us safe (the master is in a way, a Watson replacement to him after all) while Moriarty would gladly let humanity burn for the sake of us but also for the sake of being completely opposite to Holmes and keeping his identity as such.

However he does raise valid points, how was Holmes able to rayshift? This part was never explained, and he also mentions that his hypothesis has a fatal contradiction in the fact that Holmes risked his life to save ours. What can be inferred from this is that Holmes is a good man and is on our side, but there is something very weird about him that should not be ignored.

In Lostselt 5 it is mentioned at one point that Zeus called Holmes dangerous, he mustn't look at Zeus or the other gods and that his eyes are enemies of the world.

It has to be mentioned that this is some heavy emphasis on Holmes' eyes (Skadi mentioned Holmes' eyes twice, and she was a god as well). Is it because of the nature of Holmes that he is the one that reveals all truth? Is that in some way detrimental to gods, magic and the world in general?

Recently, from Holmes' skill upgrade interlude there was a section about Holmes saying that he is always an ally of justice and that while he may be on our side, he is still capable of evil but it doesn't change the fact that he is our ally. Even then it seems he has some secrets that can't be understood by himself.

By now with the presence of Dr. Jekyll and Helena and their recounts on what happened, it is confirmed that Holmes was actually "alive"(?)

Some of the adventures penned by Dr. Watson were actually censored versions of the original happenings, which were magical in nature.

Holmes was traumatised(?) by Helena's death back when they were both alive. He swears he would never let that happen again. (remember what happened in lostbelt 2…)

It seems that Holmes himself is not fully sure of what is secret about him. Since he utterly dislikes talking about something without being 100% sure about it (this tendency of his has gotten us in trouble before) plus his general secretive nature, it can be said that this is why he wouldn't talk about that.

SECTION 2: Weird Things That Holmes Does (And Other Questions)

Heroic Spirits are anything but normal, but there are few servants who break the norm even further, and Holmes is one of them.

Holmes is able to Rayshift (presumably) from London, to Camelot, and then to Shinjuku. There are very few servants who are able to manifest themselves. 

Musashi also appears here and there, but it's not a deliberate choice on her part. She is not able to predetermine her next destination. 

Arthur travels from a parallel world to this world, but this is due to "chasing after a certain powerful antagonist, evil omen" - so he tells.

Beast class has the skill of Independent Manifestation which would allow the servant to manifest anywhere they'd want. Merlin, Tamamo Vitch and Shiki possess it. However, it has to be noted that Holmes' rayshifts have a significant toll on his saint graph, as he is unable to fight or defend himself by the time we meet him in Camelot. While normal Independent Manifestation shouldn't lead to the depletion of the user's saint graph. Holmes' class is unknown at the time of his rayshifting. 

At the time of summoning, Heroic Spirits usually reveal their class and True Name (there also are exceptions to the rule). At the time of his summoning, Holmes doesn't reveal his Class: "Are introductions necessary? I am a detective. If you were expecting a hero, my apologies...But if you wanted a detective or an investigator, you drew the right card."

In the case of EOR Servants whose names haven't been found, they reveal their class.

Who summoned Holmes? The only thing we know regarding his presence was that it was first clearly there when he tampered with information in London.

Holmes' illustrator is Yamanaka Kotetsu, who was also the illustrator of the beasts Tiamat and Goetia

The artists who design and illustrate the characters tend to do it in groups of servants who are related to each other in some way (Pako with Arjuna and Karna Chacha and Nobunaga; Miwa Shiro with Brynhildr and Sigurd). It is strange that Kotetsu designed only Holmes, Tiamat and Goetia.

(NEW ADDITION) It should also be noted that as an illustrator Kotetsu has had previous works in a Lovecraftian Guidebook and is also the artist to the Alien God Preistess, somewhat showing how their work leans more to the outerworldly.

SECTION 3: The Design

It is a very commonly noticed fact that Holmes' coat in his third ascension has a very similar shape to that of the Foreigner card artwork.

The pattern work on the coattails of the foreigner art and the inside (blue) part of Holmes' coattails have a very similar, if not exactly same pattern running down the entire length of it. The sphere summoned in Holmes' Noble Phantasm also has the same pattern on its sides and front.

There is a "fog" around Holmes in his third ascension, which is reminescent of the smoke in the card art. (Also can be the London smog).

The glowing section of the abdomen of the being reminds one of the metallic corset that Holmes wears. 

There are 4 notches of smoke on either side of the being (total 8), under their cape. If we stretch our interpretation, then it could mean Holmes' arms and the metal arms that he has is also equal to 8.

In that tangent, the shape of the coat is also similar to that of Saver class Buddha, the fantasy trees from Lostbelt 3 and 4, and the Shadows made by the 6th imaginary element.

The Endless Knot / Shrivatsa symbol on his shoulders is one of the many references of his connection to Tibet (faking his death after the Final Problem). It is an important symbol in both Jainism and Buddhism.

Some of its interpretations include:

The eternal continuum of mind.

The union of wisdom and method.

Since the knot has no beginning or end it also symbolizes the wisdom of the Buddha

the endless cycle of suffering or birth, death and rebirth within Tibetan Buddhism.

The cane that Holmes wields has a pattern on its handle in the shape of a Prayer Wheel. 

However, we are not able to find the meaning behind the script on the cane. Both of us attempted to translate it but failed. If anyone can translate the meaning it would be greatly appreciated.

The holographic books in the base of the unidentified sphere have a pattern on their front that greatly resembles a lotus. 

In Holmes' third ascension, there are a number of magical circuits on his coat.

The circuits are almost only on his left side, with very few circuits on his right side. It's not like it was woven into it, were that the case the circuits would have been all over his coat in a more even distribution. It's almost like an impact radius.

The circuits are very similar to the ones visible on the title screen of the lostbelts, as well as the patterns seen on the fantasy trees.

CONCLUSION SECTION: Something's Up (It's Big Brain Time)

It's clear that something is very strange about Holmes, from his interactions to his design, it's clear that there is too much effort into throwing these hints that it's not just a red herring.

Is he a Foreigner? Beast? Counter Guardian? Some other unknown extra class? It cannot be said at the moment. Holmes' role as a revealer itself is dangerous to mystery and magic, so it can be anything.

 It is also not necessarily true that just because Holmes has all these abnormalities, that he will betray us, or is on the side of evil. When has there been a clear cut side of good or evil anyway? It can be argued that we are the villains in some way, as we bring about the end of these timelines to safeguard our own proper human history. 

Holmes has always been on the side of humanity and will continue to be, the question is what the reveal will be, why and how. That, only time and future chapters can answer, all we can do is speculate.

#fate #fate grand order #fgo #Sherlock Holmes #lostbelt spoilers #foreigner theories #fuccyoutumblrfuccyoutumblrfuccy #hope yall enjoyed!! feel free to give yalls thoughts!! #and again thank you soso much fremd🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏

[lesdemonium]

romtober day 11: journalist/subject

Rating: G Ship: Geraskier Word Count: 1222 Summary: Jaskier, an art reporter for Lettenhove magazine, tries to get an interview with the elusive artist, Geralt Rivia.

AN: listen.... why write 31 prompts if you're not gonna get a little experimental with it, right? the formatting is probably better on ao3 though 😬

read on ao3

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Interview Request

Hello Mr. Rivia!

I had the pleasure of meeting you at your studio the other day. We chatted. You told me, at length, about your horse which had inspired your latest piece. I requested an interview and gave you my contact information, but I feel as if I know you already, and what I know is that you likely promptly lost that contact information.

Rather than leaving our next auspicious meeting to chance, I have opted to instead reach out to you myself. I would love to do an exposé on your latest series of paintings. Our paper has a small but frighteningly loyal readership who would just eat your work--and you--up, and with your skill with the brush and my skill with the English language, I believe we can get you swimming in art show invitations and bids for your magnificent paintings. 

Email me back and we can get right to comparing our schedules!

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Fw: Interview Request

Mr. Rivia,

I have forwarded my previous email to you, in the event that you might have overlooked it. I did not receive an email back, though I’m sure you had every intention of replying.

I look forward to hearing from you,

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Fw: Interview Request

Mr. Rivia,

I’ll see you on Thursday at 11am at your studio, how’s that? I can already smell the scent of toxic acrylic! I’ll bring lunch. Let me know what you prefer, or I’ll just pick my favorite.

I look forward to seeing you again!

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Fw: Interview Request

No. I don’t do interviews.

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Follow Up

Geralt,

Loved having lunch together today. I really have my work cut out for me trying to pad this interview. Thank you for your time! I do believe you could have given me a bit more information, though. Maybe a follow up interview? I have a few more questions about your latest piece, and I’d love to see what you’re working on next.

You know I’ll just show up sometime if you don’t email me back,

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Follow Up

Jaskier

I’m in the studio from 8-3 every day this week. Bring food.

Geralt

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Further Lunches?

Geralt,

I noticed you were far more chatty this past lunchtime, compared to the previous two. Am I growing on you? I so enjoyed your company, I wonder if you’d be amenable to sharing lunch more often? I promise I will only have the odd question here and there. Maybe just a little company as you work? That way I can finish my interview in a timely manner without having to contact you via this platform you so clearly loathe as frequently. I hear I am fantastic company.

Charmed,

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Further Lunches

Jaskier,

Whoever you heard that from lied to you. You can come if you promise not to talk so much.

Geralt

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Further Lunches?

Geralt,

I make no such promises!

Your new lunchtime companion,

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Interview

Jaskier,

Read the interview. It was good. You lied about the inspiration for that one piece.

Geralt

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Interview

Geralt,

Well, sometimes you have to fudge the truth a little. Besides, I wasn’t lying! I was reading between the lines! I like to think after the weeks we’ve spent together that I know you well enough to hear what you’re not saying.

Though, I suppose you’re excited to get your quiet workspace back, now that I’ve published the interview and no longer require insights into your life for additional padding. It will be hard to get used to having my lunch hour in my own office. Maybe I’ll need to pour out a palette of paint to make it feel familiar? Maybe I’ll hire someone to grunt at me every few minutes while I talk at them for a couple hours? Or maybe I’ll just miss your fine company.

I don’t suppose you’d be open to another interview?

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Interview

Jaskier,

You know where I am. Come have lunch.

Geralt

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Gallery Opening

Geralt,

I heard through the grapevine that you have a gallery opening! I hesitate to ask why you did not tell me about this during our many lunches we’ve had since you no-doubt got the news, but I will find it in myself to forgive you. You are rather tight-lipped, aren’t you?

That is so exciting! Congratulations! I’m sure it will be just brilliant. Be sure to tell me all about it, won’t you? I suppose it’s too late for me to do a feature. Next time, could you tell your extremely talented journalist friend whenever you make big waves in the art world? Even small waves! Not everything you tell me has to be for the purposes of my viewer count. Sometimes you can just tell me things so I can be excited for you.

Yours,

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Gallery Opening

Jaskier,

Don’t you check your mail? Your invitation should have arrived by now.

Geralt

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: A Night to Remember

Geralt,

I know I told you about a hundred times last night, but every piece in that gallery was simply stunning. Are you sure you can’t tell me about your newest one? I know you said no when I asked at the opening, another word and I will leave the conversation to rest indefinitely. But I thought it might be easier without me staring at you with that drooly look I get sometimes. 

I just loved the colors. I’m shocked I hadn’t seen it before--I thought I had watched you work on all your pieces. Were you hiding this one from me, you scamp? Trying to keep the mystery alive? I don’t think I’ve seen a piece that looked quite as loving since your last one about Ciri. And you volunteered information on her so readily! What is it about this piece that makes you so close-lipped? Do you have a secret paramour? Ohhh, I could become a gossip rag for the high art world. It seems like exactly the niche content I would excel at.

I jest, of course. I would never betray your secrets. I just must know who has stolen the heart of Geralt Rivia. If it’s another horse, Geralt, I swear to every God out there I will do unspeakable things to your brushes. It is about Roach, isn’t it?

You are maddening,

Jaskier

To: [email protected] From: [email protected]

Subject: Re: A Night to Remember

Jaskier,

I’ll tell you about it. Over dinner. Tomorrow, meet me at my studio at 7?

Geralt

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier au #geraskier modern au #geraskier fic #my writing #listen idk if i'll ever do this format again #but it certainly broke shit up for me haha #romtober