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#so i figure I'll make a post to remind people

khaire-traveler · 2 months

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Reminder that I am, in fact, LGBTQ+.

I am a trans masc enby. I consider myself attracted to anyone of any gender. I care about LGBTQ+ issues. I care about our rights, our struggles, and our activism. I actively support other queer folk.

If you have an issue with this, fuck off. I also should not need to prove my "transness" nor my "queerness" to anyone. If you do not like queer or trans people, you will not like me, so please see yourself out.

#tired of this shit #so i figure I'll make a post to remind people #it probably won't prevent anything but who knows #not to be reblogged sorry #blog post

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wonder-worker · 22 days

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"The feast of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist being appointed as the day upon which the coronation of the king [Edward V] would take place without fail, all both hoped for and expected a season of prosperity for the kingdom."

-Excerpt from the Croyland Continuator / David Horspool, "Richard III: A Ruler and Reputation"

Even though Edward IV’s death was unexpected, after twelve years of peace there need not have been too much of a sense of foreboding about the succession. The great dynastic wound from which the Wars of the Roses had grown had not so much been healed as cauterized by the extinction of the House of Lancaster. There was no rush for London, as had happened in earlier, disputed successions. The royal party didn’t set out from Ludlow for ten days after hearing the news of Edward IV’s death, while Richard took his time, too. And the new king had [his mother the dowager queen and] two uncles to support him: his mother’s brother, the sophisticated, cultured, highly experienced Earl Rivers; and his father’s, the loyal and reliable Duke of Gloucester, to whom Edward IV had entrusted unprecedented power and vital military command.

... [Richard of Gloucester] had achieved his goal by a mixture of luck and ruthlessness, and if he made it appear, or even believed himself, that destiny played a part, this only made him a man in step with his times. Modern historians have no time for destiny, but sometimes the more ‘structuralist’ interpretations of the events surrounding the usurpation can come close to it. When we read that ‘the chances of preserving an unchallenged succession were . . . weakened by the estrangement of many of the rank-and-file nobility from . . . high politics, which was partly a consequence of the Wars of the Roses and partly of Edward IV’s own policies’, it is hard not to conclude that an unforeseeable turn of events is being recast as a predictable one. But without one overriding factor – the actions of Richard, Duke of Gloucester after he took the decision to make himself King Richard III – none of this could have happened. That is, when the same author concedes ‘Nor can we discount Richard’s own forceful character’, he is pitching it rather low*.

Edward IV had not left behind a factional fault line waiting to be shaken apart. Richard of Gloucester’s decision to usurp was a political earthquake that could not have been forecast on 9 April, when Edward died. After all, Simon Stallworth did not even anticipate it on 21 June, the day before Richard went public. We should be wary of allowing hindsight to give us more clairvoyance than the well-informed contemporary who had no idea ‘what schall happyne’. This is not to argue that Richard’s will alone allowed him to take the Crown. Clearly, the circumstances of a minority, the existence of powerful magnates with access to private forces, and the reasonably recent examples of resorts to violence and deposition of kings, made Richard’s path a more conceivable one. But Richard’s own tactics, his arrest of Rivers, Vaughan and Grey, the rounding up of Hastings and the bishops, relied on surprise. If men as close as these to the workings of high politics at a delicate juncture had no inkling of what might happen, the least historians can do is to reflect that uncertainty [...].

(*The author who Horspool is referencing and disagreeing with is Charles Ross)

#wars of the roses #edward v #richard iii #edward iv #my post #I'm writing a post on this topic but I have no idea when I'll finish it so I figured I should post Horspool's epic analysis #or should I say epic takedown? <3 #friendly reminder that Richard's usurpation happened primarily and decidedly because of Richard's own decisions and actions #we need to stop downplaying his singular agency and accountability by casting the blame on others #most of all Elizabeth Woodville and her family but also the bizarre interpretation of historians like Ross and Pollard (et al)#who somehow hold Edward more responsible (through a 'structuralist' view as Horspool says) even though that literally makes no sense #also friendly reminder that actual contemporaries did not view Edward V's minority as a sign of worry and potential discontent #quite the opposite - they expected him to have a prosperous reign. which made sense since Edward IV left his son a far more stable #country than any former minor king (and most other adult kings tbh). The irony is that it was his son's usurper who benefitted from it.#also I added Elizabeth Woodville to the list because Edward V himself specifically said that he trusted the governance of the country #'to the peers of the realm and the queen' as quoted by Mancini (likely relayed to him by John Argentine)#and this is supported by evidence. After Edward's death the Croyland Continuator substitutes Elizabeth's role in the council #for that of the King: 'the counsellors of the king now deceased were present with the queen'#we know Elizabeth presided over all the council's decisions and initiated proposals (the size of her son's military escort) on her own #She was clearly the one with the most authority in the council (who were described as being present with *her* not anyone else)#Hastings made demands but he couldn't enforce them at all (and was in fact worried). It was clearly Elizabeth who had that power.#She was likely going to play a very prominent role during her son's minority and imo it's problematic to assume otherwise #(Lynda Pidgeon assumes otherwise but she's based her assumption on objectively false information so I don't think we should take her #seriously)(see: she claims that EW lacked influence compared to her male relatives in royal councils when EW HERSELF WAS IN ROYAL COUNCILS)#That's not to go too far the other direction and claim EW tried to dominate and tactlessly exclude others - we know she didn't #The impression we get by this first council and by Richard's own actions indicates that she Richard and Anthony would likely #work *together* when it came to governing the realm #I do find it frustrating when people disregard the fact that based on the impression we have she would've had a very visible #and powerful role

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queers-gambit · 4 months

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Opening Night and Open Hearts

prompt: opening night - a mother's fear, a locked walk-in freezer, confessions through a thick metal door, questioning what's deserved, and a proposal at The Bear after hours.

pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader

fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear

word count: 9.8k+

note: i think i give enough background for you guys to feel as if you don't need to read any other relating works, but i linked the fics that could be read as a small series (maybe?) also let author be lonely in peace

warnings: reader nicknamed Peach, established relationship, cursing, spoilers, fluff, angst, relationship angst, hurt and comfort, Carmy still (desperately) needs a nap, depiction of physical illness, boys are dumb and emotions are hard, reader-insert, depiction of toxic family, OC Carmy that grovels a lot, not edited!

⚠️ season two, episode ten spoilers

not necessary to read, but other relating works with Peach:

Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant

God's Plan part two: Two to Tango

Neon Sticky Notes

"Hi, yes, I can hear you - sorry about that, I was just making note of your reservation," you spoke smoothly into the phone, trying not to ogle your boyfriend wrapped in only a clean blue towel. "So, that's a party of four for Monsieur Claude Badeaux - all right, that's so lovely. I'm obligated to remind everyone that tonight's opening is a fine dining experience and the proper, corresponding dress code is being asked for. Are there any allergies I should make note of for your party?"

"Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy," you were told.

"All right, that's noted and highlighted: Jean Paul has a tree nut allergy. If there's anything else I could help you with?"

"Non," he chuckled. "I was surprised to see your invitation to this evening, though, mon cher. It's been so long, yes?"

"Well, it was my pleasure to extend the offer, we're ecstatic by your reservation," you chuckled. "We'll see you tonight, Monsieur, and should you need anything before then, you may call this number again."

You said your parting words in French, smiling at Carmy when you hung up and dropped your work phone. "Did I hear that correct?" Your lover asked with a broad grin, "Was that...?"

"Senior marketing advisor at The Washington Post?" You filled in for him. "Uh, yeah, I think it was, but you know me - I could be wrong."

"You invited someone from The Washington Post to the opening tonight?"

"Is that okay?" You asked, standing from the bed after making note in your datebook. "You look kinda - I don't know, shocked?"

"I-I am," he blinked at you, watching you gather his pristine clothing to hang on the closet door. "But in a good way - I can't believe you did this," he chuckled, wiping his mouth. "I mean - holy shit, Peaches."

You offered a toothy grin, "Figured I could pull a few of my own strings to help get the word out about your love-child."

This made Carmy snicker, "Hey, now. Tonight's important, don't make fun."

"I know," you nodded, leading him back into the bathroom to view your hair products. "Which is why I invited some important people and some not-so important people. I know this is serious, Carmy," you smiled at him, hoping to convey your support, "and I wanted to help in whatever way I could."

"You being there tonight is more than I could ask for," he chuckled, helping you onto the small bathroom counter. You squirted a bit of hair product in your hand, watching him flinch back a little, "Uh, I just don't want my hair greasy, Peach, you know? Not a good look and I'll sweat it out in the kitchen."

"I feel like I should be offended by you having no trust in me," you teased, insisting, "I know whatcha need, baby, lemme help."

Carmy smiled softly and held still, letting you run your hands through his curls to push everything back and away from his forehead in a stylish but manageable "do". There was a silent, serene moment as you and Carmy just existed together in a mundane space, his big, sad eyes watching your face as you worked. He wondered, "Think tonight's gonna be okay?"

"I think tonight's gonna be more than okay," you assured softly. "I think tonight's gonna go better than you're anticipating."

He sighed and planted his hands on either side of you, suddenly dropping his gaze. "I, uh... Sugar invited Mom t'tonight..."

"Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Sugar and I are still friends outside of us dating, Carmy," you smiled patiently, slowing your hands so you more toyed with his curls; pushing some strands behind his ears. "She needs someone as much as you do and I don't mind."

"But isn't that what Pete's for?"

"Yes, but you know, Pete's Pete."

Carmy snorted, "Yeah, yeah, good point."

"I don't know if she'll show up tonight, Bear, but whether she does or doesn't, it won't matter - you're not doing this for her. This is for you, Carmy, tonight's about The Bear opening - it's about you and this incredible, amazing thing you've done. Okay?" You caressed both his cheeks in your hands so he could only look at you directly. "If she shows, that's great," you whispered with a soft smile as your thumbs swept the apples of his cheeks, "and if she doesn't, it won't make tonight any less special. That, I can promise."

Carmy's forehead met yours, both pausing to breathe together; peace always a fleeting feeling as of late and being something you both capitalized on. You brought him in closer for an embrace, his face burying in your neck as your arms snaked around his to keep him as close as possible. His arms were tight around your waist, legs spread to accommodate him; both needing the feel of being close before that night's inevitable stressful event.

"Wow, well, don't you look all pretty! Wow, Peach," Pete greeted you when you scurried to the table with your friend in tow. "Oh, hi there!"

"Pete, this is my best friend, Danielle, and Dani, this is Pete, Sugar's husband."

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," your friend greeted, the two instantly chattering as they both just blew past their introductions to instantly compliment one another's clothes. You smirked, knowing they'd get along famously, and looked around the brand new, packed restaurant.

"Hey, there she is, my pretty girl," Richie greeted smoothly, approaching your standing form to slide his hand around your shoulders.

"Hi, Cousin," you beamed, offering him a hug in greeting. "The place looks fantastic - it's so - I mean - just wow, Richie," you complimented. "You guys did such an amazing job. I need to tell Fak, too, this is - you guys should be so proud, it looks incredible. Hardly can believe what it was before this."

"It really is something, huh?" He grinned. "Hey, Pete," he nodded.

"Hey, Richie."

"And you must be the famous, the fabulous Miss Danielle?"

"That's me," your friend grinned. "You're Richie, right? Carmy's cousin who's not really a cousin but is as good as blood?"

"Yes, ma'am, the very same," he nodded with pride. "We've some drinks coming your way in just a moment, but I need to borrow Peach for just one second."

"Why do they call her Peach?" Dani asked, but Richie was leading you away as Pete was heard answering,

"Oh, because she mastered this peach cobbler with Carmy's mom, Donna, and she started the nickname..."

"What's wrong?" You asked softly with a smile as to not give the illusion to others that you were worried. "What can I do to help?"

"No, no, nothing too bad, you were just requested by the Frenchie-French guy."

"Oh, right, that's right, yeah, I can help with that," you sighed gently, smiling as you approached the table. Greeting the two men and women was easy, Richie impressed by your connections in the professional world. Tonight, The Washington Post didn't just dine with them - no, it was also the director of social media for three luxury, designer brands: Jean-Paul.

Yes, the man was so elusive that he just went by Jean-Paul. Fuck a last name!

Either way, it impressed Richie to hear the introductions. The two women were executives in their own companies, names Richie didn't catch because he was busy taking note of the way Mr. Frenchie-French was basically eye fucking you in front of them all.

"Well," Richie smiled stiffly, "tonight's incredibly special for us. In fact, uh, Y/N's boyfriend is the owner and head chef."

"Really?" Frenchie-French perked his brows, shifting his gaze over to you. "You always had a soft spots for chefs, non? For those who were versed in the culinary arts?"

"Well, mostly I appreciated a man in the kitchen simply because I burn water and would probably unintentionally starve myself," you teased easily, deflecting the man's subtle dig. "I'm actually here with family tonight, so, please, ladies and gentlemen, enjoy tonight - I know I'm biased when I say the food is exceptional, but I look forward to your own opinions."

"We will talk later, mon cher, I am sure there will be plenty to discuss," the Frenchman promised, kissing the back of your hand as you let Richie lead you away by your free hand.

You released a long sigh, muttering, "Bring them a bottle of real champagne, please, Richie, I had a few bottles imported just for them. Listen closely," you lowered your voice as you both paused on the side of the dining room, "bring them a bowl of thin sliced strawberries sprinkled in sugar and pop the cork at their table - it's impressive for whatever reason."

Richie pecked your temple and gave you a tight squeeze, "I got it all covered, girly. You all right? Look like you're gonna be sick?"

"Just men being men grosses me out, I guess," you sighed with a small shrug. "He's always had a thing for me, I figured I'd use that to get him here tonight - Carmy's work speaks for itself, but maybe he'd be inclined to publish an article or two for us if I play nice."

Richie paused you a few feet from your table, complimenting, "I hope Carmy knows he doesn't deserve you, Peach."

"You said years ago neither of us did," you smirked gently. "Said I wasn't relationship material, right? Remember?"

"I was wrong," he nodded. "I even said y'all would never be serious, but..." He scoffed to himself, "I've never seen that boy so crazy about anyone in his life. You've really changed him, Peach. I don't really know how to thank you."

"You can start by buttering up those flirty Frenchmen," you teased, giving his cheek a peck.

"On it," he winked, parting from your side.

Inside the kitchen some twenty minutes later, Richie approached Carmy, directing his attention, "Cousin?"

"Yo."

"Peach is on 17 with Pete."

"Okay."

"Go say hi."

"Yeah, eventually," Carmy nodded absently, never halting his work.

"Eventually?" Richie repeated with distain, something in his stomach twisting.

"Where the fuck is Josh!?" Carmy called into the kitchen, another chef echoing his concerns.

"Yo!" Richie barked as calmly as he could, "Just go say hi to your girl, Cousin."

"Yo, I'll go when I have a minute," Carmy deflected strongly. "I'm in the fuckin' shit, leave me the fuck alone."

"What? I'm saying - "

"I'll get there when I can get there!"

"I'm saying!"

"What?" Carmy barked.

"She's got important fucking people in that dining room, man," Richie scoffed, hands held up in defense. "Just for your ungrateful ass! Maybe the least you can do is go say fuckin' hi - even if you're fuckin' busy. She knows that, it'd be a nice gesture - or whatever fuckin' shit - I don't know! She's your girl!"

"Yeah! Exactly!" Carmy barked. "She's my fuckin' girl, she knows the fuckin' drill, I'll go say fuckin' hi when I get the fuckin' chance, Richie! Fuck's sake! Always tryna meddle and shit!"

"Jesus, fuck," Richie sighed, turning out of the kitchen with his hands waving Carmy off in defeat.

You were none the wiser, entertained by Pete and Dani's gabbing as Sugar was in-and-out, dealing with all the little things going wrong. These little things came to her in the form of notes left at the table subtly for her to go solve, you wanting to help but being shot down every time. Eventually, Carmy was approaching your table with a tray of food, shocking you slightly.

"Hey, Peach," He greeted softly, lowering the tray to balance on the table and lean over to kiss your cheek. "You look gorgeous, baby, wow," he complimented in a whisper, offering another quick kiss.

"Thank you, Chef," you smiled brightly, touching his forearm in a sign of affection. "What's all this you've got for us?"

He hummed and explained what he set on the table in front of you guys; eyes alight and cheeks flushed from the heat of the kitchen. He poured whatever sauce came with the main dish, smiling at Dani, nodding to Pete, then looking to you.

"I'll check on you later, all right, baby?" He mumbled, watching you nod. "I gotta get back," he whispered, "but thank you for being here, my pretty girl."

"No where else I'd rather be, Cream," you rushed, letting his lips find yours briefly.

"Stick around after, would you? When we close, just... Don't leave yet."

"Yes, Chef," you whispered against his lips with a grin. He gave one single more kiss before pulling away to stand upright.

"Enjoy," he bid the table before walking away.

"So, like," Dani trailed after making sure Carmy was out of earshot, "when's the wedding? 'Cause that might've been the cutest thing I've seen. I mean, opening night, he's cooking, but paused to come serve us? Serve you? And he's so soft with you, kissin' you, bein' all cute," she pouted dramatically. "I want a reason to wear a maid of honor dress, please."

"Hey, hey, chill on us. There's no wedding," you sighed with a small laugh, trying to play off how the subject made your stomach twist. "We haven't really talked about it, you know? No biggie."

"What?" She sputtered. "Wait, hang on. Y'all have been together - like - a stupid, ridiculous amount of time. The fuck you mean you haven't talked about it? What are y'all doing, just ignoring the elephant in the room?"

You shrugged lightly, "I don't know, we know if we ever got married, it'd be to each other, but that's really it. We know we want to be together, we know we want to marry each other, but there's been no serious conversation about it."

"Uh, does that sound right to you?" Dani asked Pete.

He shook his head as you all took dainty bites of food to savor the flavors (and save Sugar some). "When I knew with Natalie, I didn't hesitate."

"Well, Carmy isn't like you, Pete," you defended. "He's got a lot on his plate, too, you know?"

"You've said that since Mikey," Dani frowned, her voice quiet.

"With good reason, don't you think? Carmy's just - he's just going through a lot right now and it's a challenge, you know?"

"No, it's more like Carmy's got the emotional intelligence of a fucking teaspoon!"

"Hey," you snapped, "that's not his fault, he doesn't know much better, so watch your mouth."

"He does with you, like... He knows better when he's with you, when it comes to you, Peach," Pete offered softly. "Look, maybe Danielle has a point - it is a little weird. I mean, you guys have been together, what? Six, almost seven years? Creeping up on a decade of just dating - that's a long time. And didn't you guys do that weird little half-dating thing for two years before making it official? Don't you think that's enough time to know if you want to marry someone, and then, you know? Actually marry them? Or at least ask them?"

"Sure, maybe to other people, but Carmy and I have never been conventional, so, I don't see why we need to start now."

Danielle scoffed, "Look, God love Carmy and everything, but you're just wasting time now. He needs to either commit or let you find someone who can actually love you like you deserve."

"Oh, and Carmy doesn't?"

"Wasn't all that long ago that you two took a break 'cause he called you clingy - and some other unsavory terms," Danielle shrugged. "Doesn't really sound like someone who loves you unconditionally - the way you should be loved."

You sighed and sat back in your chair, "I appreciate the insight, but Carm and I are fine. Okay? We've got years under our belts, we don't want to fuck up what obviously works for us so chill out on the questions, okay? I don't have answers to them."

Danielle and Pete shared a look before the man got up to excuse himself to the restroom. You and Dani finished your meals before sipping your wine, waiting for Pete, but Dani sighed, "This lady's been staring in here for, like, ten minutes already. It's freezing, doesn't she want to come in?"

"Hmm? What're you - ?"

"This lady on the street," your friend pointed over her shoulder towards the window her back was now turned to.

When you peaked out, you gasped lightly when you saw Donna Berzatto smoking a cigarette. "Oh, shit!" You stood from your seat, rushing, "Okay, so, uh, yeah - just - can you just sit here for a second? I have to go handle that."

"Who is it?" Dani wondered earnestly.

"I got it, Peach," Pete told you, passing by the table swiftly with a hand patting your shoulder to keep you at your table.

"What the hell's happening?" Dani asked. "Who is that?"

"Nothing, no one, it's okay, I think that's someone we know, just, uh, hang on a second? We'll be right back."

"Sure," she nodded in confusion, watching you get from your seat and follow Pete out the door onto the blistering cold sidewalk.

"Hey, Mama Donna," you greeted happily, arms crossing over your chest to protect from the wind. "Have you been inside yet? We saved you a seat and all, but isn't this - just wow?" You grinned, trying to encourage her to say anything about her children's hard work.

"Oh, no, no, not you, too, Peach, why are you here?" She groaned lightly, looking upset and close to tears.

"I'm here 'cause of Carmy? I-It's opening night, yeah?" You offered in confusion. "Why? What's wrong, Mama D?" You worried, glancing at an emotional Pete.

"No, it's just, I can't come in, I can't, just no," she backed away, only now making you notice the way Pete cried. "I'm so sorry, Peach, honey, but I was never here. Okay? I-I'll call them later, I swear, I promise, I'll call them - but I-I-I wasn't here. Okay? You can't tell them I was here. I'm so sorry."

"Donna, don't do this," you begged, head shaking. "Don't, please. Just come in with Pete and I - just sit there for a bit. Just come in and see what your kids have done - Donna, it's so beautiful. You'd be so proud, but you should really see it for yourself - "

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I can't, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, not tonight, no, I'm sorry, I can't," she deflected in a rambling mumble, turning and hustling down the sidewalk with her head shaking like a Etch-A-Sketch.

You rounded on Pete, "What the hell was that? Pete, what just happened?"

"Um, I-I don't - I didn't mean to."

"Pete? What didn't you mean?"

"She didn't tell her mom about the baby," he rushed, tears falling. "Nat didn't tell Donna, Peach, and I think I just did - I think I just fucked up and told her."

"Oh, no... No, Pete, you didn't."

"I didn't mean to! I swear it was an accident!"

"No, I know you didn't mean to, honey," you rushed, opening your arms to bring him in for a tight hug. "Oh, you poor boy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Pete."

He sighed, "I'm sorry, too, Peach."

"For what?"

"That... We fell in love with Berzattos and this is our new normal now, right?" He sniffled.

You half-smiled, "Yeah, something like that. But it's okay. See, where Donna's afraid to give her love, neither of us are. Sugar and Carm deserve that from us, right? To be authentic and just love them?"

He nodded, "Yeah, you're right."

"And that's all we gotta do... Is love them, Pete."

"God knows where else they'd get it," he huffed, wiping his face. "Hey, um, I'll be in, in a second - I just need a minute alone, I think, in the cold."

"Take all the time you need," you agreed.

"We're not - we're not telling them about this, right?"

You sighed, "No, I don't think so - at least right now. It might hurt them more, you know? To know Donna was here, but never came in. That she ran away... Again. It'll hurt, they deserve to be happy about tonight."

Pete nodded rapidly, looking like he was gonna burst into tears. Instead of going back inside, you just moved to Pete's side and stood there; producing a cigarette, lighting it, offering Pete a drag that he turned down, and the both of you just standing silently; one smoking, one crying, both processing.

"Wow, look at these gorgeous ladies! By far the baddest in the whole place! Yeah, man!" Fak teased as he approached you and Danielle after closing the The Bear officially. "What a privilege to have you both dine with us this evening! Ugh, truly an honor to see you both here," he praised comically, evening giving a small bow that his brother mimicked.

Your eyes rolled, "You're laying it on really thick when I already tipped you." He snickered with Theo. "Hey, seriously, though, tonight was incredible. I mean, it was all so beautiful, you should all be so proud."

"Oh, we are," Neil giggled, his brother hanging off his shoulders.

"Good," you teased. "Uh, is now an okay time to go back and see him? Kinda wanna offer my compliments to the chef directly, you know?"

"No," Fak answered instantly, "uh, well, probably not the best time."

"Yeah, probably not," Theodore echoed.

"I can sense you two ramping up to something," you sighed, "so, I'm gonna ask you skip all that and tell me what's wrong. Why can't I go see my boyfriend? He just had an incredibly successful opening night, I kinda wanna kiss him if you don't mind."

"Um, well, h-he didn't want you to worry, so, he said not t'tell you, but, uh... Yeah, no, Carmy's, like, locked in the walk-in freezer. Han Solo style."

"What?"

"Locked in the walk-in," Fak nodded rapidly, "yeah, no, the handle - like, the whole handle came off. He's locked in, Peach..."

"Oh, my fucking God," you breathed. "Are you saying he - he missed opening night? Neil!"

"Yeah, kinda... Well, sorta - I mean, technically, but - "

"Oh, Jesus," you breezed past them all.

"Mmm-mmm, the fridge guy's name is Terry," Tina corrected Carmy, flinching a little when he slapped the other side of the metal door he was locked behind.

"See, th-tha-that's what I'm talking about!" Carmy raged. "I'm so fucking distracted, and for what? For fucking what? 'Cause of a girl?" He chuckled ruefully to himself.

"Nuh-uh, don't do that, Carmy," Tina scolded. "That's not no girl, that's your girl, that's Peach - you don't lash out at her, baby."

"Yo, maybe - maybe I'm just not built for this. Right? Maybe that's okay! Maybe that just is. She'd be better off, Tina... I'm just - I'm not built for this."

But what Carmy didn't hear was Sydney asking Tina to cover her at the front because she needed to step out the back, get some air; Tina accepting and telling Carm to hang on a moment. Something he missed. While Tina took Syd's spot, Syd rushed outside, and you slipped in the kitchen door; Carmy being surrounded by shitty ripped tape and an entire side full of the flowers he had brought in for tonight - for you. It was a haunting reminder; something suffocating.

When you got to the walk-in, you were prepared to call out for Carmy, but he started speaking from within, halting any word on your tongue.

"I wasn't here b-because I was looking a-a-at fucking engagement rings when the fridge guy fuckin' called," Carmy ranted, your heart stalling in your chest. "Right? Like, what the fuck was I thinking? Like I was gonna get married? Commit to this relationship? Be h-her fucking husband or some shit? Have a fucking wife? I'm a fucking - I'm a fuckin' psycho!" He laughed a little, the tears springing to your eyes as his words disarmed your heart and emotional dam. "That's why! That's why I'm good at what I do! That's how I operate! I am the best because I didn't have any of this fuckin' bullshit, right? I could - I could focus and I could concentrate and I had a routine and I - and I had fuckin' cell reception, and Peach and I just had our own routine! We didn't need this extra bullshit, and now..."

You just listened, leaning on the freezer's door, tears silently leaking down your cheeks as you had the horrendous realization that you were what now slowed Carmy down. You were what currently stood in his way, when this whole time, you thought you were helping; making things easier; supporting him. No... No, his words rattled your heart to accept that you were now the bane; the object of his ire. You and your relationship was what was wrong and was causing Carmy hurt and professional complications.

Something you never wanted to contribute towards. You both always said if this relationship got to be too hard, you'd walk away. Better to feel anger than resentment; and now, you knew you had to walk away else risk that resentment fester.

Carmy started up again, "I don't need to provide amusement or enjoyment, I don't need to be someone's 'to have and to hold'. I don't need to receive any amusement or enjoyment, nor for someone to have and hold me... And I'm completely fine with that. Because no amount of good is worth how terrible this fucking feels." You were ready to open your mouth, but he finished by nailing the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, "It's just a complete waste of fuckin' time - entertaining what I know I shouldn't. Being in this relationship, trying to give what I don't have, wasting everyone's time."

You took your chance, speaking through your tears, "I'm really sorry you feel that way, Carmen."

"Peach?" Carmy rasped from behind the door, sounding more alert than he had before. "Baby? Hey, hey, Peaches? That you? Peach - hey. Hey," he sounded desperate as you backed away from the door, a fist pounding into the metal, "hey, no, Y/N? Y/N!" The seriousness settled over you both, Carmen understanding you heard a lot more than ever intended and once those words are out there, there's no getting them back. "Y/N, baby? Hey, no, no, Y/N - listen to me - hey, no, no! I-I didn't know you were there, baby, okay? No, Y/N, please - tell me you're there now, let me explain." He paused. "Let me explain! Please! C'mon, baby, please, let me fucking explain - tell me you're still there! Y/N? Y/N!"

You sniffled and walked away, feeling smaller than you ever had in your life. You barely noticed when the kitchen door opened, not until a figured dressed in black stopped you. "Peach? Hey, hey," Richie halted you - taking note of the tears. "What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay - who fuckin' did it?"

You just stared at Richie for a long moment, opening your mouth twice before sighing and smiling sadly. "I never wanted to be what got in his way," you whispered sadly. "I'm sorry, Richie."

"Peaches, hey, what's - "

But you reached up to kiss his cheek, "Tonight was so beautiful, Cousin, and I'm so fucking proud of you all. Thank you for everything - not just tonight, Richie, but everything you do." You smiled again, whispering, "Take care of him. Okay? He'll need you."

"What're you talking about? What's going on? Where are you going? Hey, where are you going, Peach, please?"

"Have a good night, Richie, I love you," you whispered, leaving out the kitchen door as quickly as you could. "Hey," you sniffled, approaching Dani with the Fak Brothers, "can we go now, please?"

"Are you okay?" Dani worried in shock.

"I'd really like to go, Dani, please," you rushed, throwing your coat on and smiling at the Brothers as if your heart wasn't in pieces. "Thanks again for tonight, you guys, it was magical."

"Peach? Wait, hey, are you okay, baby? What just happened?" Neil worried, watching you snatch Dani's hand, but pause when screaming was heard from the kitchen. Everyone stared at the door, Neil muttering, "The fuck are they...?"

"Now, Dani, please," you whimpered to your friend, who wasted no time in escorting you out of The Bear. The moment you were outside, you burst into sobs, Dani grunting a little as she lead you down a side alley to lean you on a brick wall and beg you to breathe normally.

"What the hell just happened? Hey, honey, you need to breathe," she smoothed hair off your face - but it was like you were drowning in the air with the way you gasped and gaped and panted and whimpered and choked yourself.

"I-I-I-I think - I think w-we're done, I think we're done, I think - oh, fuck - I think we just broke up," you sobbed, hands on your knees. "Oh, my God, Dani," you whimpered, "I-I think - I think we're done, Danielle, oh, my fucking God. I-I heard things tonight that I just - I can't not know, anymore! He said - fuck! He was just so candid, he didn't know I was there so h-he was sayin' things I have t-to now confront - and I really didn't fucking want to! He just - he doesn't want to really marry me, D, and-and-and he was apparently looking a-a-a-at rings - fucking engagement rings! But then he said that w-was the issue - he missed the fridge guy's call 'cause he was looking at fucking rings for me and this is why he missed opening night - 'cause the fucking fridge broke! Oh, my God, Danielle, i-i-it's my fault, it's my fucking fault, he missed the most important night of his life and it's my fault - "

You were cut off by your stomach lurching, emptying your insides onto the pavement. The delicious appetizer, the tantalizing main course, Marcus' fresh baked bread that was delightfully soft on the inside yet baked crisp on the outside, and every bit of the sweetened dessert - all wasted on Chicago bricks.

"Okay, okay, ah, shit, just get it out, babe, there you go," Danielle held your hair, catching you in a suffocating hug once you were done puking. "I've got you, babe, I've got you. You're okay, no, hey, this isn't your fault. I've got you, come on. I think we need pints of ice cream and the saltiest pretzels we can find," she pushed some hair from your sticky forehead, pouting dramatically, "maybe some Pepto? Few Saltines and ginger ale? C'mon, we're going back to mine, there's a good girl," she coaxed you from the ground and away from the wall, "c'mon, you're stronger than this. There's my girl, here we go, just one foot in front of the other - together, with me, just like that."

You sobbed, not knowing that Sydney and her father stood listening just a few feet away behind a set of dumpsters.

The moment the freezer's door was open and Carmy was free, he was sprinting around the kitchen to grab his coat, leave Neil in charge of closing, and racing out the door as the Fak Brothers yelled at him for hurting your feelings.

"Hey, hey, hey, Chef! Carmy, wait!" Sydney chased him outside.

"No time!"

"Wait! She went with her friend!"

Carmy came to a tripping halt, catching himself before he hit the pavement before whirling around to approach her, "What?"

"Her friend? She was with some girl tonight?"

"Yeah - yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, um, that's - yeah, that's Danielle," Carmy nodded. "Her best friend, yeah, they were here tonight, sitting with Pete and Sugar."

"Listen, Carmy, I heard them when they left the restaurant... Peach was really upset, like, more upset than I've ever heard, saying you two broke up? Or something? She cried so hard, Carm, she actually threw up, it sounded like she was in genuine distress. I-I didn't know if I should've intervened, but her friend was with her and helping."

"Shit - fuck - Goddamnit," he seethed. "All right, thank you - "

"I doubt they went to your place, I think I heard her friend saying they were going to her apartment."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, great, I know where Dani lives, thanks Syd!" Carmy bid, sprinting in the other direction - never bothering with the public bus system, just running into the night. Sydney was left to sigh on the sidewalk, Neil and Theo joining her before Richie followed - all watching Carmy disappear down the sidewalk.

"He's a fucking idiot," Richie shook his head.

"What the hell even happened?" Syd asked.

"Carmy mouthed off in the walk-in, Peach heard it all," Richie supplied. "You know the dumbass was gonna propose tonight?"

"What?" Syd blinked in shock.

"Yeah," Neil tacked on, "we had a whole plan and everything. Candles, soft music, flowers - there's a bunch of flower bouquets in the walk-in."

"I'm sure that was hard for Carm to look at," Syd sympathized.

"Doesn't excuse whatever he said," Richie snapped. "She looked devastated."

"She cried so hard, she threw up in the alley," Syd frowned.

"How do you know?" Neil asked.

"I heard her," the other chef frowned. "My dad and I - we actually both heard her."

"Jesus fuck," Richie seethed.

"I mean... Should we still set up?" Theo wondered to his brother. "What if they kiss and make up, like always? Carmy might still wanna go through with the proposal, right? You know?"

"Maybe," Neil trailed, looking at Richie.

"I don't fucking know," he sighed, hands on his hips.

"She thinks they broke up, I imagine whatever she heard was pretty nasty," Sydney frowned. "Think they'll really make up tonight?"

"Let's hope," Richie sighed. "That fuckin' idiot isn't gonna find anyone better than Peach. Fuck," he looked around the city street. "All right, fuck it, fine, let's fucking set up. Not like the jackass deserves it, but let's do it for Peach."

Neil and his brother grinned at each other, turning to hustle back into The Bear - leaving Sydney and Richie on the street. No words were exchanged, just silent shakes of their heads before they followed the Faks with the intention to help set up for a proposal nobody even knew if would still happen.

The cold night burned Carmy's lungs, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of suffocation he felt earlier when listening to one of your voicemails while trapped.

Your words were sweet as pie, as they usually were; a voicemail left when you were still at work, but feeling so excited to see him that night that you just had to call him. You reminded him of the adoration and love you held for him, relaying how proud you felt - and that you knew Mikey would be, too. You were always doing that, reassuring Carmy; and maybe that's why he felt so freaked out, he wasn't used to it. Even after almost 7 years together, he just wasn't used to what he didn't know he deserved.

Because Carmy didn't think he deserved anything remotely close to love, understanding, compassion, patience, and / or reassurance.

He had sobbed out loud as he locked his phone, not having the heart to delete your message. He often never did - he liked listening to your voice on long, hard nights; it brought him peace when the world felt too loud. He also kept whatever little notes you left for him, even going as far as to get a few of your hand-drawn hearts tattooed on his forearm. One for each anniversary you've shared together. He realized he never wanted to be without you and all his doubts and fear was him projecting his own incompetence towards this relationship; so, he locked his phone, he didn't delete your message.

The moment the fridge door had been opened, Carmy was out of there, shot off like a Roman Candle - your words of love and understanding still ringing in his ears as he was freed. He needed to apologize, and he needed to apologize right fucking now.

The whole run to Danielle's apartment, Carmy wasn't sure what to say to you; mulling over different ideas in his head. He tried to plan his speech, but the only thing he could think of was how much he loved you and that the ring in his pocket weighed a hundred pounds.

He pounded at Danielle's door. Carmy paced slightly as he waited, knocking frantically, and surely waking the neighbors - but that didn't matter. All that mattered was talking to you, something he was desperate to accomplish. When the door opened, your friend offered a stale look and shook her head, "Nope."

"Dani, please," he halted the closing door, "it's all a misunderstanding, I swear to God, please, just - let me try to fix this. Please, okay? I-I need her - I fucking need her and I have to fix this 'cause she's all that matters, okay? So, let me talk to her - please. Please, Danielle!"

"Yeah? The only thing?"

"More than anyone, more than anything - more than The fucking Bear, I swear to fucking God, Danielle! Just - Just one chance, please. I-I don't know how it all got so fucked, but please, I have to try - "

"Whatever you said in that freezer, Carmen, fucking gutted her, you hear me?" Dani stood in her doorway protectively. "Should've had your ass frozen for the hurt you caused her. How the fuck do you intend on making this right? Huh? It's been almost a fucking decade, dude, if you're seriously still afraid of commitment, just fuck off and leave her alone. Let her walk away 'cause I promise, there's a line of dudes who would love to put a ring on her loyal-ass finger - "

"Please, let me fix this," Carmy begged, sounding close to tears. "I need her, Danielle, please."

"It's okay, D," a voice whispered from behind Danielle, and when she turned, you were revealed - jacket and purse in hand, looking completely exhausted, drained, and disheveled. "I'm just tired, Dani, but we have to talk about this... So, I'll go home with him and call you tomorrow, okay?"

"You sure?"

"It's a decent walk, gives us too much time to talk," you shrugged, refusing to meet Carmy's bloodshot eyes. "Thanks for tonight, sorry I was such a mess," you whispered, hugging your best friend since pre-school.

"Girl, don't you ever apologize to me. But hey, look, I don't know, you were just drowning in your tears, like, five minutes ago. Sure you really wanna go? You can stay here as long as you'd like, girl, fuck him."

"Better to work it out now than later, I guess," you whispered, letting her kiss your cheek and see you guys out.

"She calls me cryin', Carmen, I'll kick your ass," She threatened as you moved down the apartment's hall. You might've snickered just a little, but the amusement was wiped clean when you rounded the corner and came up to the elevators.

Now that it was just you two, it was dreadfully awkward.

"Baby - "

"Just - don't talk for right now, Carmen," you sighed, shaking your head. "I'm still digesting all you said."

He frowned when you walked onto the elevator without a single emotion on your face, following you, and when on the ground floor, moved out to head home. It was quiet, it was awkward; only the sounds of traffic filling the space between you as you walked.

"Listen," he started with a long sigh, "you came in at the worst time, Peach, heard some shit you shouldn't have that I-I didn't even mean. I was just," he paused, sighing, "really angry and frustrated, fucking running my mouth 'cause I didn't know what else to do."

"Sounded like I came in at the best time since you're not very forthcoming with emotions. So, hearing your confession put a lot in perspective for me, Carm."

"I was just angry, Peach," he frowned, hands deep in his pockets. "Felt like I was self sabotaging myself, I wasn't sure what else to feel. So, I just lashed out. I didn't mean it, but I just felt like being angry... So fucking angry, baby, I just - I didn't know what else to feel."

"I don't know if I can be with someone like that," you whispered. "Someone who throws our relationship under the bus when he's angry, someone who's first line of defense is apparently to blame the relationship he's been in for over half a decade with the same girl. Someone you've known your whole life..."

"Peach - "

"If it's that easy for you to just disregard us, I don't think we should continue this."

Carmy took a breath and reached out to pull you to a stop. He dug in his pocket for a moment, then showed you the black velvet jewelry box. "I was gonna propose tonight, when everyone was gone," he explained when you took the box to open gingerly. "I think because that was on my mind already, something I was more than nervous to actually do, you're right, it did become my first line of defense to blame us - not just you, baby, but us. You and me... Mostly me, though," he chuckled sadly. "You're this perfect, sweet angel who just loves me out loud when I don't deserve it, and I'm... I'm just me," he sighed, eyes reddening. "And I know I'm never gonna be enough for you, I think I started to get in my head about if you said no. How I missed the call from Terry about the fridge 'cause I was picking out an engagement ring that you didn't even want, that you rejected - rejected me; and in turn, I missed opening night, and it all just - it got to a boiling point. Look, Peach, it's never been a secret that I don't think I deserve you... But I wanted to be the man that could at least give you an honest try of my best. You've stuck by me the past seven years when you should've ran for the hills, and I knew I wanted us for life years ago - but everything was still so up in the air. So confusing. So fucked up. I figured, after opening tonight, if things went t'plan, I could propose - prove to you that we're on our feet and there weren't any rugs to be pulled."

"What if things didn't go to plan?" You whispered.

"We're kinda living it now," he admitted, hand rubbing the back of his neck. "But even if tonight was all a total failure, I know I might've still done it because it's you, Peach. It's you... I've known for years you're who I want, I just never knew how to do this - to move us forward. You're my first relationship, hopefully my only relationship, and I just didn't know how to advance us. I think when things got real for me, my insecurities crept in, and I just reacted - I didn't think."

"We always said when this wasn't healthy or when this wasn't good for us anymore, we'd walk away," you reminded. "That we'd rather be sad or angry about a breakup instead of letting resentment fester from being together."

"It's still good for me, Peach, we're still good," he whispered, stepping closer. "Is it still good for you? Or did I lose you completely tonight?"

"I don't know, Carmy, you've been lashing out a lot lately. At me specifically."

"And with The Bear now open, I-I should be okay. You know? Back to normal?"

You chuckled dryly, "I see, back to your high walls? Emotional constipation?"

"Then maybe not normal," he corrected, "because I just needed to get us here, to tonight, to opening, and then show you that it's over. Show you that part of our lives is over and we only have more adventures to look forward to. Not ones like this, though," he gestured up the street, your eyes cutting over and realizing you were back at The Bear.

"Do you really think you're a psycho?"

He chuckled, "After tonight? Yeah, pretty convinced... Plus, I, uh, I saw in the freezer the way we're labeling things - and got angry about it. Angry about the way we were tearing tape and labeling things. It was so fucking stupid, but I just - I felt so crazy. I still do, I still feel like my head doesn't make sense and I'm a bit, you know... Crazy."

You nodded slowly, "Then how can you promise me this kinda shit won't happen again?"

"I don't think I can, but I can make you the promise that I am working on it; trying to identify when I feel reactive, trying to calm that down. I'm trying, Peach, I really am - it's just... Taking a lot of time," he sighed sadly. "And I know you don't have any more left to give me."

"I've already given you this many years," you reminded softly, "I think I could spare another or two if it meant you getting your shit together, that you get better, stop feeling so crazy."

"I don't deserve anymore time - "

"I think you need to step back and reevaluate what it means to be deserving because you always say that. That you don't deserve something - even as simple as time. Everyone deserves time and opportunity to figure shit out, Carmy, and you're no exception."

He nodded, "I'm... Trying." He took a long, deep breath, "I'm, uh... Going to meetings, you know, like, uh, Al-Anon and whatever."

"That's good, they're there to help," you nodded, stepping closer to take his hands in yours after closing the ring box and stuffing it back in his pocket. "Now, I think you need to do something."

"Anything, Peach."

"Take my hand, bring me back to The Bear, and go about your plan."

He froze in shock, blinking at you in earnest, "You really mean that?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

"No, ma'am, and I think that scares me more."

"You'd rather break up? 'Cause at this point, Carm, we either move forward with this engagement and fucking work our shit out, or we break up. It's been almost a decade. It's your choice, you're the one who was saying he couldn't be someone's husband, that he didn't need to provide anyone nor have them provide you with anything. So, you tell me what you want to do - because all I know is that I love you, I want you for life, but not if you're going to resent me and regret moving our relationship forward. I don't need to get married, Carmy, but you can't keep jerking me around like you have been. So... Make a decision based on what you want - based on what's best for you. Not what's best for us, but put yourself first right now, Carmy, and make a decision about what you want."

With a nod of his head, Carmy cleared his throat and offered you his hand. When he felt you lock your fingers with his, he glanced up and down the street, then lead you across it. Up the sidewalk and to the front door of The illuminating Bear, he paused to produce his keys and then lead you inside.

The lights were dim, but a flip of the switch brightly lit up the newly constructed restaurant. He seemed nervous at your cool demeanor, watching you shed your coat and set your purse down; but his hand took yours again and lead you further into the place. He seemed nervous, but once in the kitchen, it was almost like Carmy's stress melted away.

"I was... I had this plan," he explained softly, leaning on one of the work stations with both hands in yours to keep you in front of him. "I have all these candles, right? Was gonna distract you in here," he looked around the fluorescent lighting, "while Richie, Fak, Tina, and the others set everything up. We'd hang in here after the place was closed down, you know, show you around the completed kitchen. And really casually, I'd ask if you were ready to go, so, we'd go out the front, and we'd walk right into the candlelight..."

"Yeah?" He nodded, thumbs running over your hands as he pushed off the counter. "Don't deviate from your plan now..."

Carmy smirked, "Wanna hear the boring kitchen stuff?"

"Of course, I do."

So, he lead you around in a tour of the kitchen; showing off the new office space that he invited you to take advantage of whenever you wanted. The sleek appliances were shown off, the vast fridges, freezers, new cutlery, state-of-the-art dishwashers. Everything, he showed you, knowing you helped him pick a lot of it out - it was still nice to see it all come together finally.

And then, slowly, he lead you out of the kitchen, but to your honest shock, the dining room was covered in lit candles and different bouquets of thick, gorgeous floral arrangements. "Oh, holy shit," you breathed, Carmy hiding his confusion much better than you.

You came to a slow halt in the middle of the room, the lights out and only leaving the candles to provide an ambiance. "I had this whole speech planned, too," Carmy told you softly. "Remind you of the day we met, how you saved me from those jackass bullies - remember?"

You smiled softly, emotions swirling in your chest, "First day of first grade, you had a Buzz Lightyear backpack and some kids were picking on you 'cause of it."

"And what did you do?"

You felt bashful remembering, but humored him by answering, "Pushed their faces in the mud at recess and made them apologize."

"You've been my best friend since that day," he nodded, bringing you in a few steps closer. "And when we got to high school, my feelings changed. You weren't just my best friend, but the girl I was madly in love with... Took me a couple years to buck up the courage to ask you out officially, though."

"Sure took your sweet time," you whispered with a smile, "but all good things to those who wait, right?"

"And I think you've waited long enough for a man to be who you deserve," he frowned. "All these years - it's been you at my side. You even - fuck - you even came over to Amsterdam for a bit because I was feeling overwhelmed and lonely. Sad, maybe even a little homesick. But you just - you just showed up like it was the most common thing in the world."

You chuckled through your tears, "Yeah, we had some good times on that boat, didn't we?"

He nodded with a softening smile, pushing hair from your face and behind your ear; pausing to hold your cheek carefully. "And when we came back stateside... You were still the only constant presence in my life. You were my family without blood, and I knew after that Christmas that you'd forever be my other half, and I'd spend my life conveying how grateful I am for you. I just - I never knew how to put it into words until now."

"What changed?"

"Realizing that I wanted to marry you years ago - and I should've. I know I shouldn't have drug my feet with us, delay our inevitable, because honestly? I couldn't see my life without you in it and I knew I needed you with me forever. Peach," he frowned, reaching for your other cheek, "we agreed when this wasn't healthy, we'd walk away - I remember that. But I need you to know, I'll never fucking regret you. I'll never resent you. You've been unwaveringly supportive and loving and... And I've been the luckiest man to experience it all. But now," he pushed himself a step closer so he was hovered over your lips, "I know that you deserve someone just as present in this relationship as you are. I knew once The Bear was done, I was done - I was done beating this bush around and wasting time. I knew what I needed to do because the idea of you not being in my life anymore terrifies me more than anything. I don't remember life without you, Peach, and I don't ever want to know what it's like. So," he cleared his throat, "here, in the restaurant I so desperately wanted to give up on so many times, but you always stopped me, I wanted to make this official. I wanted it to be here to show you that the past year of our turmoil - it's fucking over, Peach. We did it," he whispered, "and now, the next and only thing I want to focus on is us."

Carmy readjusted you both for a little bit of space, holding your left hand tightly as he lowered himself to a single knee; looking up at you with those big, wide, sad blue eyes that were growing redder by the passing second. The candlelight created a romantic atmosphere that cocooned you both in a warm embrace, the flowers around you projecting their floral scent.

"So, I need to ask you something real important, baby," he whispered, his throat bobbing to restrain his emotion that clawed up his throat, "because if I don't, I don't think I could breathe again." He cleared his throat, pulling the ring box from his pocket and opening it to present to you officially. "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N... My sweetest Peach, I've loved you almost my entire life, you're my best friend, my most loyal and sweetest confidant. You make me want to be a man better than I was yesterday and never before have I ever seriously considered marriage - until you. Now? Now, I can't get the idea out of my head, so, my sweet girl," he took another breath, the tears in his eyes swelling and slowly dripping down his cheeks as you slowly got on your knees in front of him, "I need to ask you... W-Would you do me the honor? Of being my wife?"

"Carmen."

He grinned at you, both with tears down your cheeks. "Will you marry me, Y/N? I can't see my life without you in it, so... I want this, I want you for life. Y/N, will you marry me?" He paused, adding a meek little, "Please?" at the end.

With a deep breath, you slowly reached for his cheeks in a soft caress to wipe his tears; both just staring at one another for a good few moments before a face-splitting grin nearly cracked your lips. "Yes," you finally answered, "yeah, yes, yes, of course, I'll marry you, Carmen, yes!"

"Oh, thank fuckin' God," he laughed, letting you lunge forward to knock him backward in a hug - missing the candles arranged in a small circle for you two to stand in. Carmy laughed loudly, happily, giving you a tight squeeze as he mused, "Had my heart beatin' outta my chest for a second there, Peach."

"Oh, please," you laughed, "after all this time, you really thought I'd say no?"

He shrugged meekly, "Thought my most recent fuck-ups would've added to any reasons you might have to say no."

"Oh, spare me - you're my best friend, Carmy, you know I couldn't ever say no to you. Not without puking in nervousness."

"Can we maybe not talk about puke when we just got engaged?"

You laughed and nodded, "Fine, fine, fine, then put the ring on, please."

You presented your left manicured hand, watching Carmy almost giddily removed the band from the box, took a slow, deep breath, and then, the most beautiful ring was being slid onto your finger in an official show of your engagement. Of your undying love. Of your commitment, promises, and future together.

"YEAH!" An array of varying cheers and hollers of support and excitement rang out around you; startling both you and Carmy to look up. Richie, Sydney, Tina, Neil, Theo, Pete, and Sugar all hung in the bathroom's alcove - watching with splitting grins and cheering in celebration.

There was no time to question them as Richie lead the charge over; helping you to your feet for a giant, bear hug before gushing over your engagement ring. Neil and Theo popped one of the authentic bottles of champagne, pouring different flutes for those present.

"Calm down," Natalie scolded Richie lightly, "and move out the way, I want to hug my engaged bestie!"

You squealed with Sugar when her arms wrapped around you tightly, Rich moving on to congratulate Carmy - who apologized for his angry words earlier and thanked them for still setting things up. Richie promised it was for you, not Carmy, but still hugged the little shit with a laugh - indicating he was just joking.

"Let me see!" Natalie grinned, examining the ring Carmy chose and squealing again. "Oh, my God! Oh, it's so pretty! Oh, shit - sisters!" She gasped, holding your hands tightly, "We're going to be sisters - like, officially!"

"Sisters in law, but yeah, cupcake," you beamed at her, wiping your tears and giggling. "I can't - this just doesn't feel real," you told her softly, looking the few feet over to see Carmy with the lads as Sydney stood with you and Sugar. "Him proposing? I genuinely thought it wouldn't happen," you tried to laugh your nerves off, looking at your ring and fiddling with it.

"Yeah, right," Sydney laughed. "I haven't been around that long and even I knew this was gonna happen."

"Oh, please, she's right," Natalie grinned when you went to retaliate, "he first started talking about how he wanted to marry you when he was, like, 15. This has been the longest thing coming."

"Thank you guys for helping," you whispered with a smile. "It's all so beautiful."

"Happy to help for a good cause," Syd smiled, complimenting your ring as Neil called for a toast. Everyone was given flutes of champagne, Carmy's arm wrapping around your waist as each friend gave their own little speech, congratulating you both before the alcohol was being drained.

"Uh, and where are you two going?" Sugar asked about an hour later with a small giggle when Carmy wrapped an arm around your neck after helping you into your coat again.

"Gotta celebrate alone with my fiancé," he smirked, "later, guys! Don't forget to lock up!"

"Carmen!" You scolded with a small laugh, gaping at him.

"What? They got this," Carmy chuckled. "Thanks, you guys, see you tomorrow!"

"We can help clean," you told him as he lead you out of the restaurant.

"Nah, we've got bigger plans," he smirked at you. "Got plenty t'celebrate, yeah? Ever fucked as fiancés before?"

"No - but I hear it's some crazy sex," you whispered, locking your arms around his waist to stay close. Neither of you cared about the bus at this hour, opting to walk home in the cold - not that you felt it. Your love burned brighter than the cold biting your skin.

requesting rules and masterlist

The Bear masterlist

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murdrdocs · 11 days

Text

sweet as a grape

description. ART DONALDSON lost a match, leading him to sulking at the hotel bar. when you slide up next to him he starts to feel like he won.

includes. SMUT MDNI 18+, submissive art, no challengers spoilers, fem!reader, sex w a stranger, drinking (but no drunk sex), masochism, dry humping, virgin coded/inexperienced art, choking, gagging (self inflicted), brief rimming, slight overstimulation, lots of allusions to masturbation, allusions to edging, art is a fucking freak

wc. 3.6k+

a/n: this is all based on assumption since challengers has yet to be released at time of posting. artwork is nighthawks by edward hopper. title from too sweet by hozier. some plot inspiration taken from @too-deviant's ray bans

Art Donaldson knows he's good at tennis. He knows he's great, and he knows that with greatness comes attention. Reporters always looking to get an exclusive from him, coaches always looking to take credit for the gained speed in his serve, brand, and companies looking to put his face on something, and people throwing themselves at him, begging for even a glance so they would have a story to tell their friends.

He knows this. But it still comes as a shock whenever people prettier than he thinks he deserves turn their attention to him. It's still a shock when you, a being with far too much beauty and grace, slides up next to him.

He smells you before he sees you. A sweet scent wafted to his nose, hitting him against the face with a pleasant slap. Then he senses you, the aura that radiates off of your body. Warm and comforting, even with the blistering heat from out that is attempting to permeate the hotel bar. He doesn't gather the courage to look at you until you speak. And your voice, God there's something about it. Something that makes Art's muscles loosen for the first time in hours, as the smooth lilt of your tone is a nice change of pace from the grunts on the court and the grating ridicule from the reporters asking him about the match, all disappointed faces reminding him that he lost.

But sitting here, on a barstool next to you, Art begins to feel like he won.

"I'll have what he's having," you tell the bartender with absolute confidence. You're leaning on the counter just a bit in an attempt to make your voice clearer, your ass perked up in the air enough to grab Art’s attention. He doesn't mean to look, really, but as he brings his glass to his lips he can't help how his eyes cut to the side briefly.

Besides, the skirt of your dress is long enough to cover your backside.

Art shakes his head. "You don't want what I’m having." He shouldn't be having anything right now. He might have lost his match, but this isn't the end. The alcohol will only slow his recovery, he knows this, but his half-assed reasoning of needing to drown his sorrows took over his mind, settling into his frontal lobe and steering his choices.

The bartender is already sliding a replica of Art's drink your way. You raise it and Art clinks his glass with yours. Then he watches you taste it. It's strong, straight liquor placed on ice which barely does anything to make it smoother, but you take it like a champ. You only take a sip, though, your eyes squeezed shut as it goes down before you place the glass back onto the counter and wave the bartender over again.

You flick your tongue out to catch a drip of liquor that missed your mouth. It’s so pathetic how just that one movement makes Art shift in his seat.

This time, you order something sweeter. Something more your style Art figures. Art doesn't think before he orders one for himself, too, and follows up the order by telling the bartender to place these drinks and any that will follow on his tab.

It doesn't take long before he confirms that you know who he is. But you're subtle about it. Your recognition comes in your glances. The way you narrow your eyes. The way you smile and laugh at his poorly made jokes. The way you ask him how he's doing—your tone a little firmer, as if you'd been in the stands today watching the close match that ultimately led to a loss. And it's then that Art recognizes you, too.

He'd seen you briefly, just one glance before he was turning back to focus on the match. Your eyes had been covered by a pair of sunglasses then, but at the end of the match when everyone else was cheering for the winner, Art saw you cheering for him. Stood at the entrance to the locker rooms, your stacked bracelets glinting in the sunlight as you clapped. The sound of his blood rushing to his ears had been deafening then, the red in your eyes distorted every image. At the time, he believed that not one clap was in his favor. But yours surely was.

He can't tell if your intentions are really any different than anyone else who has tried to sleep with him, but he doesn't care. Because he just wants you so bad.

And for once in his life, he lets himself have what he wants. He accepts that he's a desired person, even on his off day, and he takes you, possibly the most desirable person he'd ever laid eyes on, upstairs to his room, and lets you have your way with him.

He lets himself show a side he’s never shown to anyone else before. A side that is only seen when he’s tugging his cock all alone, his mind helpfully conjuring up images as he sped up the flick of his wrist, only to slow his motions down to a stop on his own accord. And he would continue the delicious torture, for as long as his mind and body could conjure, especially if he lost a match.

This is a more compliant side. Less of a persona he’s put on for the media, and more of a man who just wants to please and be pleased.

Tonight, with you laying back on his bed and waiting for him, he considers his options. He doesn’t know if he should continue his usual routine of self-inflicted torment. Or if he should give into you completely and lose himself amongst the nectar that’s gathered between your thighs. When he sees the imprint of your arousal, he decides that he’ll go along with whatever you want from him.

It doesn’t take much for him to live up to his promise.

You’re lying on your side, your head resting in your hand as you smile up at him lazily. You’d both had your last drink a while ago, and with the way they were spaced out Art doesn’t think you’re drunk. He’s not drunk, but he still feels elated. He feels like a teenage boy when you beckon him over and he complies willingly, crawling towards you until he’s sitting on his haunches.

You lay on your back, staring up at him, blinking up at him. And Art waits. He waits and waits until he realizes you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

He bends down and presses his lips to yours. The shape of the kiss is awkward since Art’s position forces your lips to align together at a perpendicular angle. But you don’t mind it. You let the initial press linger for a second before you place one of your hands onto his side and pull him towards you. Art interprets your pull as wanting him to land atop you and he does.

The bed is large enough that only his feet hang off when he straddles you, placing only the weight of his bottom half over you and holding his top half up with a hand pressed into the mattress.

His other hand settles on the thin strap of your dress. The material hangs off of the angular end of your shoulder, just close enough to fall off. Art doesn’t know if he initially intended to pull it down or push it back up. But you look up at him, your eyebrows slightly raised. It’s a look he knows well. He’s seen it on many opponents who doubted him.

You’re challenging him.

He pulls the strap down and that’s all it takes for you to take his face in both of your hands and pull his lips to yours. You have some unexpected strength in you. Your tug throws Art off of his balance until his chest collides with yours. You’re not deterred at all, your leg hiking up over Art’s hip as you press your foot into his lower back.

Your dress must have slipped up somewhere along the way because Art can feel the warmth of your center pressing against his pants. He does it subconsciously, not even realizing what he’s doing until you reciprocate the movement, but he’s grinding into you with long and languid swipes of his boner into your arousal.

There comes a point where the two of you need to pull your lips away from the other. But Art stubbornly doesn’t want to. His lungs ache for a breath. His head screams at him, telling him that kissing you can’t be more important than breathing. But for a moment there, just a single moment, Art believes that it is.

When you pull away first, Art tries not to take it personally.

“Will you fuck me?” You ask him through your breaths. Your question takes Art by surprise. Your words are so blunt. A little crude. But they stiffen the pressure in his trousers. He likes how assertive you are. It has his head spinning and somehow he manages to hide how desperate he is in his reply.

“Only if you ride me.”

Not much can be hidden whenever you’re on top of him.

You’re staring down at him, likely with a view not too dissimilar from Birdseye. Art knows that like this, he’s probably spread out before you like he’s on an examination table. From the heavens, you’re able to notice every single thing about him that you choose to.

The way his breath hitches when you sink on him. The way he’s a little lost behind the eyes, the two big blue windows unfocused enough to suggest how much pleasure he’s getting from this. He starts to feel a little insecure, but then you bring a graceful hand down and push his damp blond hair off of his forehead, providing the ventilation needed.

Gratefully, his eyes fall closed and his head tips back. You bring your hand down to cup his cheek and Art instinctively turns his head just enough to place a blind kiss into the center of your palm.

“Will you look at me, Art?”

You ask him so politely, your voice just as sweet as it was earlier in the night when he’d only been imagining something like this. He wishes you were a little firmer with him, but he still obeys, slowly peeling his eyes open.

He’s instantly grateful that he did. Because for just a brief second, he forgot just how divine the image above him was.

Your body is almost completely bare since the top half of your dress has been pulled down to reveal your tits. They shake with each movement. With each controlled way you sink down onto him. In the same way he’s in his element on the court, he figures that you’re in your element here. You look so natural like this, stripped by the wish to satisfy your most basic need. But you’re so good at this. He wonders if you’d had as much practice at this as he has with his craft. Not that it matters to him, especially since any previous practice you could have had would have only contributed to this time, making it as heavenly as it could possibly be. But Art thinks he wants to practice this, like this, with you more often.

The way your cunt takes him in is hidden by the skirt of your dress. With a hand more shaky than expected, Art lifts the hem and the sight he’s blessed with makes him dizzy. He has to take a controlled breath, look away, and then come back to it.

Your pussy is so pretty. He can’t see much from this angle, and he wishes he could see more, but he can both see and feel how wet you are. In a risky move, you’d allowed Art to forgo a condom and he sincerely hopes he won’t regret it later. The last thing he needs during the height of his career is a bastard with his eyes and a monthly check written to a one-night stand. But when he’s able to feel you intimately and see how your essence is shining his dick, he can’t regret anything.

Everything seems like it was meant to be at this moment. Even the damned neon ball that escaped his racket by just an inch that brought him to the bar this evening anyway.

“Here,” you mumble. Art doesn’t know exactly what you’re referencing until you knock his hand away and replace it with your own. You lift your dress over your head and throw it to the floor where it joins Art’s already discarded clothes. Now you’re both even in terms of nudity. But the fields are definitely still uneven.

You have complete control in this setting. Art doesn’t mind it one bit.

You reach your hands down and take Art’s grasp in yours, directing his rough palms up to your body. You place his touch on your waist, but getting the feeling that he’s allowed to touch more than that, he lifts his hands up and grazes his fingertips over your erect nipples.

Your reaction is appreciative so Art does the movement again. He’s amid his third swipe when he remembers something. The magic button one of his old hitting partners told him about one afternoon during unwanted locker room talk.

He sticks two fingers into his mouth, unable to help the way he stuffs them a little too far back. He only stops when he gags just once, and then he pulls the digits out, satisfied by how slick they are, and brings them between your thighs.

It takes a moment for him to find it. He curses under his breath when he misses the first time, and grunts when he misses it the second time, but the third time is the charm. He presses at first, attempting to see if he’d found it. And when your hips jerk, he begins to draw on his memory and starts circling your clit.

You moan, your head tipping back as you start to ride Art with more fervor. More passion is behind the way you move your hips. More determination is in the way your hands press into his torso to ground yourself. You have one hand below his navel, manicured nails scratching his happy trail while your other hand slides up higher and higher.

And just when Art thinks you’re going to reach your target, you stop. The base of your hand presses into the top of Art’s sternum while your fingers lay across his collarbones. You’re so close. Just a little …

“Higher. Please.”

You don’t say anything, you don’t give him a look, you just do as he says. You push your hand up higher until you find the other end of the magnet.

When your fingers wrap around his throat, Art groans from deep in his stomach. It comes from a place he’s only ever accessed during an intense game. Never during something like this. Briefly, he wonders if this could be considered a game. But if it is, it’s one he’s losing. He’s not even bothering to fight back. You’re dominating him and he likes it. Hell, he fucking adores it.

You’re the one in control here, so it’s only natural that Art asks for your permission to cum.

The need steadily approaches, pushing through his body, working its way through the maze until it finds the end which leads directly up into you.

“‘m close,” he warns. “Can I cum? Please? Will you make me cum?”

You nod fervently. Art sighs, he relaxes into the bed with a delusional belief that he’ll get to cum any moment now.

Your words clear things up for him. “Make me cum first, Art. Then I’ll return the favor. Deal?”

He doesn’t pout or complain. He just agrees. “Deal.”

He uses his free hand to grip your hip and speeds up his touch on your clit. His fingerpads slip down just a bit to gather more wetness, and then he brings his touch right back up and settles it right onto the part of your clit that protrudes the most.

The sight of you cumming is so beautiful. Just this one hit, this one time, is surely enough to make Art addicted. While he watches you cum, taking in the way your chest pushes your tits out and your head throws back, revealing the gorgeous line of your neck, he thinks that he wouldn’t mind if you had his kid. As long as it guaranteed that you would always be in his life.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get to make his sex-hazed thought a reality as you pull off of him, ignoring the way your cunt is gripping him with resistance. You settle beside him, sitting with your legs tucked under you. Your hand comes to Art’s cock, and it only takes a few strokes before his hips are lifting and he’s cumming.

You press your lips to his while he releases, stroking him determinedly while you kiss him messily, lots of saliva and tongue swapping between the both of you. When your hand around his throat tightens just a bit, Art’s hips stutter, and his cock twitches in your hand. He can feel you grin against his lips.

“Let me clean you up?” You ask him with the prettiest smile. He’s dazed when he nods, not really knowing what he’d just agreed to. When you settle between his legs, Art almost backs out. He’s still sensitive, he knows it without you even touching him. But it’s rude to push a pretty girl away when she’s offering to use her mouth on him.

So he sits through it.

He fists the bed sheets and tries to swallow his groans whenever you lick the cum off of his torso. He accidentally whimpers when you wrap your lips around his tip. And he can’t hold off the deep moan that pushes out of him when you allow his cock to sink into your mouth.

This cavern is different than the last. A little rougher, but the constant pressure and warmth from your tongue is comforting. He was already softening whenever you first took him in your mouth, but his dick is allowed a single moment of rest. He hardens inside of your mouth, and when he’s ready, you start to suck him off.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he’s close. But he can’t really hold off when you use your hands to push his legs a little further apart, and you abandon his dick for a brief second to bring your tongue lower, pushing the muscle along his pink-clenched rim before you drift back up. Art’s gasp is pitiful. Even to his own ears, he sounds like something out of a porno, his voice wobbling as he moans, sounding like he’ll cry at any moment.

His back arches and he decides he needs more of you. He takes a bit more control, even though it happens accidentally. He presses a hand into the back of your head and rams his cock up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat more than once and triggering your gag reflex.

When he cums this time, it’s in your mouth, and you suck him clean again. He moans your name all the while, the syllables becoming more broken each time he repeats it. He thinks he’s praising you, but he doesn’t know what he’s saying. For a second there, he doesn’t even know where he is.

Then, when he comes down, he’s silent. He’s like a cat with the way he shudders. He’s absolutely spent, labored breathing reverberating throughout the otherwise silent hotel room. You slide up to his chest, laying your head in the center. Your hand has been taken off of his neck and delicately placed into his hair.

You play with the curls for a second before speaking.

“You okay?”

He nods, letting himself catch his breath a little more before he speaks.

“Yeah. More than okay. You?” He brings a hand to your back, pulling you closer to him. You’re staring up at him from his chest, and like this, you look innocent. Heavy eyes blinking up at him, your lips pulled into a smile.

You hum affirmatively. “Shower? Or bath?”

Art laughs a little when he says, “Bath. Definitely a bath.” He knows that his legs would be a little too shaky to withstand a shower, and as he follows you into the bathroom, his suspicions are confirmed. He’s satisfied to see you struggle a bit with stepping into the tub.

Sex with you was fucking amazing, and somehow, the ease with the two of you hasn’t diminished. You’re both sober, any alcohol that could have remained in your systems definitely been expelled by now, but you’re just as charming. And Art is just as relaxed around you.

He thinks that he could exist with you for a while.

When he awakes on his own the morning after, he thinks he was too wishful the night before. Maybe he’d been reading way too much into something that was solely a one-night stand. He sits at the edge of the bed, head hung and tail tucked, but then his mood improves just a bit when he sees your panties laid forgotten on the floor. Even when he throws them with the rest of his clothes from his suitcase, he doesn’t let his mood improve too much.

He has pissed, showered, and is standing over the sink to brush his teeth when he sees your note attached to the mirror.

had to leave. thought you had things to do. call me sometime. or come visit. room 1046, here until tomorrow. xx

The note is placed carefully with the rest of his belongings.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x you #art donaldson challengers #challengers movie #celeste writes challengers

734 notes · View notes

landograndprix · 4 months

Text

woman ✾ l.n - vii

❧ you love max, you really do but your little brother has been getting more on your nerves each day as he tries to set you up with one of his friends.

❧ love, hate and jealousy.

❧ and then I said, let's make Charles the villain 🥰 this is a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

❧ prev part – next part

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y/nverstappen

liked by landonorris, irisxo and 98,563 others

y/nverstappen right mate, what's all this then? 🇬🇧

view all 678 comments

norrizz babe, do you love a London boy?

bott_ass asking questions we know the answer to already 😔

norrizz yeah but I need her to confirm it before I go mental about them 😔

landoscar it's okay girl, tag your man

y/nverstappenfan looks like you're having fun!

lnlando 🤮

norry4 my guy lando is getting fed

hamilt44n he's getting that wife treatment without her being his wife 😂

norry4 good dick will do that to a woman

hamilt44n true true, we know man's is packing so lucky girl she is 😏

sharl16 wonder who she's with..

daiseeeey go hang out with people you own age lmfao what

lewlew did you go to highgate, met all of his best mates?

carlandooo they probably enjoyed nights in Brixton and shoreditch in the afternoon :)

y/nverstappen babe, don't threaten me with a good time

lewlew Y/n a certified swiftie?!

julieeeexo what is happening in these comments?! 😂

landoooo4 leave lando alone pls.

irisxo get your ass back home, I need my private chef back.

missusnorris I'll give you all my savings if you leave lando alone

landonorris it's mint in here

y/nverstappen innit?

grussell this feels a lot like mocking the brittish 😂

charles_16 I mean she's dating one, she's got the right to do so 👀

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y/nverstappen posted on their story

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y/nverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, riabish and 142,564 others

y/nverstappen zandvoort prep 🍊

view all 678 comments

lanlan mclaren orange 🥰

notnorriss girl or orange because she's Dutch, max is Dutch, it's the Dutch gp? 💀

norrizz lando being in Amsterdam and posting about stroopwafels on his story, y/n living in Amsterdam and posting a picture of stroopwafels??

redbullracing zamdvoort ready! 🍊

norry4 loving your vibes lately! 😍

hannahh was lovely meeting you guys last night!

landosainzz where did you meet her?? I was out in Amsterdam too

hannahh they had dinner in the restaurant I work at

landosainzz was lando there too? 👀

hannahh yep and a lot of others as well

landosainzz girl spill the tea!!

hannahh no lmao why would I, leave them alone 💀

landonorris my favorite stroopwafel 🍪

y/nverstappen that's a chocolate chip cookie

landonorris they don't have a stroopwafel emoji you muppet

missusnorrizz 🤮

chilisainz missusnorrizz stfu they're cute

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y/nverstappen

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 115,547 others

y/nverstappen tough day at the office.

view all 783 comments

bott_ass you did not! 😭

hamilt44n y/n, bullying these men is so mean...do it again 😏

oscarpiastri thanks for the reminder, I really needed it

y/nverstappen I know, I'll send it again next week!

oscarpiastri ah, I will be looking forwards to it!

charloss im glad y/n adopted the rookies this year 😭

maxmaxmax THE CHRISTIAN ONE 💀

norry4 babes we know these men are alright, how are you doing?!

sainzcahlos zandvoort, you we're a curse, I'll see you next year!! 😭

norriizlan lando made it to the instagram posts..

norrizz so did Charles, Logan, Oscar and Daniel..what's your point?

maxemillian girl are you still alive? I figured your dad would've killed you by now with the staggers he's been sending your way all day long..

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Woman taglist @hockeyboysarehot @starwarssavy23 @be-your-coffee-pot @thecubanator2 @ironmaiden1313 @hanniesdawn @leclercdream @alexandralibbre @elliegrey2803 @watersquirtpewpewboomm @whoreks @cha-hot @sunny44 @roseseraj @goldenharrysworld @18754389 @graciewrote

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728

Lando taglist: @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris x oc #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smau #lando norris au #lando x reader #f1 x reader

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victortalkingmachine · 5 months

Text

tumblr in the 1900s simulator

🎀 basilgillgirlie

HELPPP i went to see a country girl and i SWEAR coffin looked directly at me while he was singing no. 19 😳😳😳

#im going to DIE #oh my godddd #hayden coffin tag #theatre tag

( 5 notes )

🪮 tortoiseshelllll

honestly just go ahead and block me if you're still not against the consumption of intoxicating liquors /srs

#temperance discourse

( 7 notes )

🤵‍♂️ h0ney-b0y 🔁 in-my-merry-oldsmobile Follow

💁‍♀️ soshineonharvestmoon Follow

Alright, let's settle this once and for all:

Do cylinders or discs produce the clearest sound?

‎ ‎‎ Cylinders⬜‍‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‍21.2%

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎Discs🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦🟦‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎78.8%

‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎‎ ‎Final result from 18,796 votes

🐶 yourwildirishrose Follow

literally who is voting for cylinders. #discsweep

#poll results that would give thomas edison neurasthenia

( 3,419 notes )

👨 lawrenceseldens 🔁 the-thing-with-feathers86 Follow

☕ the-thing-with-feathers86 Follow

hey. everyone. TAG YOUR HOUSE OF MIRTH SPOILERS!!!!! not all of us are able to keep up with the installments, especially ppl employed at factories/others who work 10+ hour shifts

#!!! #the house of mirth #edith wharton #scribner's magazine

( 102 notes )

🌌 impastolover 🔁 le-modernisme Follow

🔘 ilythomascole-deactivated19061203

There’s NO WAY you people are still supporting H*nri M*tisse after he posted THIS

🌈 chezlesfauves Follow

does this scare you

🌈 chezlesfauves Follow

i guess so lmaooo

#i wonder if op knows about la femme au chapeau…

( 10,675 notes )

🌻 emancipation-waist-official 🔁 localhoyden Follow

🐈‍⬛ localhoyden Follow

friendly reminder that it’s perfectly ok for women and girls to wear corsets if they want to!! don't ever let anyone make you feel ashamed for it - it's your choice, you can do whatever makes you happy 💗

🌻 emancipation-waist-official

Go outside.

( 984 notes )

👰 kittybristolsgf

i know it's been less than a decade since uh. you know. but can anarchists please go back to assassinating public figures and bombing government buildings and such all the time already, i have had ENOUGH

#the latest tariff law that was passed.... wtf #(for legal reasons this is a joke) #(please don't have me electrocuted <3)

( 2 notes )

🦚 fancyfeathers

Just got my widest hat yet!! An entire owl can fit atop it!

( 51 notes )

🏓 whiffwhaffwagerer

at the marathon in st. louis!👍 what is happening

#so the original winner cheated i guess #and the actual winner had to be carried over the finish line and is currently being treated by *several* doctors #also apparently some of the competitors are missing #...i'll keep you all posted?

( 9 notes )

🧳 thatkeenmotorist 🔁 thatkeenmotorist

🧳 thatkeenmotorist

driving my motor-car 😁

🧳 thatkeenmotorist

broken chain ☹️

🧳 thatkeenmotorist

driving my motor-car 😁

🧳 thatkeenmotorist

broken belt ☹️

🧳 thatkeenmotorist

driving my motor-car 😁

🧳 thatkeenmotorist

broken chain again ☹️

( 99 notes )

💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow 🔁 thegreat-trainrobbery1903 Follow

💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow

hey um whats going on in the balkans right now 😨 do you think theres going to be a war in europe soon im nervous

🙎‍♂️ thegreat-trainrobbery1903 Follow

well, a major war caused by a crisis in the balkans has been speculated on for a while. but it'll probably only last about a year like the war of 1870, plus you don't even live near the balkans, i wouldn't worry too much

💃 lilyelsieinthemerrywidow

yeah youre probably right

#and if it did reach us it would most likely be beneficial anyway #<-prev

( 13 notes )

#i've been editing this all day i have had enough. releasing it into the wild now #fake posts

529 notes · View notes

elmhat · 3 months

Text

DISC WAR FINALE - TUMBLR SIMULATOR

(The posts here are ordered from least to most recent, since I figured it was a better experience to read them chronologically.)

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Mwahahaha… They'll never find my evil lair where I do evil things. Evilly. That I gave them a compass to

#sorry for vagueing #everything I do is mysterious

12 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

just said my final goodbyes before my inevitable death and my friend couldn't even be assed to put on a shirt??

#cw nudity

56 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

boats are so fucking boring man send me some asks or something

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

I'm about to kill you, can you please take this seriously

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

why'd you make it so fucking far away

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Sorry I didn't realize you were THIS SLOW

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

can you just give us the coords

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Then it wouldn't be dramatic

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

it's not dramatic when you're having a whole ass conversation about it either

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

fuck i shouldn't have posted that. who am i gonna talk to now i'm fucking lonely i have no one

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

no one at all

21 notes

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

EVERYONE SHOULD BE AT THE PORTAL!

If you don't see one of your mutuals here please tag them, it's gonna ruin the moment if someone shows up late

🥚 baddestboi-withahalo Follow

@evilwarcriminal

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

DELETE THIS

134 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

#rigging is allowed

16 notes

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

he has an elevator, we're doomed.

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Can you get off your phone. I'm trying to monologue

4 notes

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

New ask game cause I'm sick of waiting, tell me what you think dream is doing rn and I'll tell you how much death I think he deserves

9 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

I'm kinda busy rn but can someone remind me later to post my villain monologue? It's only a first draft but I had to spend all my time setting up my lair. And also blowing up that country a few weeks ago

5 notes

🐈 antthecatmaid Follow

I stg punz is being so sus. what's he even waiting for. he better be paying by the hour

11 notes

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

listen I think I'm gonna die dream is about to take my phone the coords are

2 notes

🔥 murdered-yo-fave-pet Follow

Fuck this I'm going through @dreamsno1traitor

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

WAIT I NEED TO GO FIRST STICK TO THE SCRIPT

13 notes

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

HOOOLY SHIT BITCH BOY LOOK AT THIS BITCH BOY BITCH DROP YOUR ITEMS IN THE HOLE ✨BITCH✨

#cw nudity #again #can people please wear clothes around me thanks

2,577 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

/ tw prison

/ tw loss of canon lives

/ tw near death experience

/ tw getting defeated by your archnemesis

I won't be able to post for a while.

78 notes

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

ooooohhh look at me i'm skeppy! in the skeppy cage!! can't believe that fucker made this wtf is this place

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

okay i'm done now bad where did you go @baddestboi-withahalo i need to get out again @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo @baddestboi-withahalo

💎 goodestboi-withahalo Follow

Thank you for accepting this job opportunity

18 notes

🟩 evilwarcriminal Follow

Guys get out of my inbox. Your hate anons aren't even effective if I don't have a phone in prison

6 notes

🧨 deadpresident2 Follow

Hey I'm back from the dead

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

REALLY????

🧨 deadpresident2 Follow

Sorry forgot the /j

8 notes

🥇 dreamsno1traitor Follow

Good job today guys. Yeah. Woo. I'm very happy.

#forgive me if I sound too excited

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

#I need to be vague about this cause he follows me on here #but I think my best friend almost just traded my life for two pieces of plastic #it was a pretty stressful situation though #ig I can't complain too much #am I weird for thinking that's not normal for a friendship? #sorry #I'm probably being unreasonable #they were some really nice pieces of plastic #you can lmk what you think in dms if you want #just please don't send me asks about this situation #I really don't want him to see #neg #discourse

0 notes

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

it's great that we got dream but we need to go after @.bloodforthebloodgod next

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

what's happening what

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

go away i thought i blocked you

💿 fuckdream123 Follow

FUCKKJL YOU TECHNOO

🐝 what-if-bees-had-nukes Follow

technoblade is cringe

🐷 bloodforthebloodgod Follow

you literally tagged me

🦆 stabbyduck69 Follow

yeah cause i needed my followers to know where to send the death threats

28 notes

🔱 warden-of-the-vault Follow

Pandora's Vault is now open to visitors!

Just be aware that the entry process is a lengthy one with several waivers to sign. Plus there are a couple of annoying manual searches along the way. The prisoner is also highly dangerous, he will get inside your head and control your thoughts, transforming you into a servant to his every whim, destroying your very soul from within. I'd recommend not visiting at all actually. You can if you want but I wouldn't. If I were you. That's just me though.

#just me and him

103 notes

(Here's another dsmp dash simulator post I made!)

#long post #dreblr #dream smp #dsmp #dashboard simulator #lore thoughts #dsmp dashboard simulators

277 notes · View notes

scarrletmoon · 2 months

Text

About Powder Blue

This is going to be long. There are going to be discussions of suicide and trauma. This is going to be a bit of a jumbled mess because I can't tell a linear story to save my life. Don't feel like you need to read this, now or ever.

If you're wondering what the issues with PB were, and looking for what's next, read the indented text and skip the rest if you want!

I've had a bit of a...tumultuous relationship with the OFMD fandom. I've made close friends and lost them, made even closer friends who've very patiently reminded me of my worth when I needed that. I'm at a point where I'm still struggling, but I'm getting better. I'm still working on not being afraid. It's a bit of an uphill battle, but I'm still pushing my little boulder. I'm not alone this time, which is nice.

I entered the fandom as a nobody. I had almost 50 fics on AO3 and two had mildly popped off while I wasn't looking, but I wasn't really known for anything. I was a fandom ghost, posting my little fanfics and sharing them with the world because I just enjoyed the characters so much. Like a lot of people, I dreamed of being known for something. I thought that'd be neat.

I'm still in a state of shock and confusion that I've written anything in the past 2 years that people remember and even love. It's weird to be in a place where I never imagined myself to be. I can't stress enough how much I did not write explicit fic before this fandom; in high school, I would've welcomed a porn ban. I was afraid of my own sexuality, convinced it was some sort of monster I had to control. Convinced I was dirty. To other people my age, I was a prude, naive and childish for not being comfortable with it. So I feel for people who lash out now, who insist that attraction is actually fetishization, that if we set enough rules, maybe if we resist temptation, we'll be saved. I see you, and I feel for you. I personally don't think that's a healthy way to live, but if you'd told me that 2 years ago, I would've cussed you out. It's really a realization you have to come to (or not) on your own terms.

Anyway.

I know it's tacky to talk about your own success but it doesn't feel real. I go back and forth, reading other people's work -- and my god, there's some unbelievable talent in this fandom -- and thinking "shit, why would anyone read anything I've written? My stories are kindergarten finger paintings next to museum masterpieces". I am learning, slowly -- very slowly -- that I can't bully myself into a shape I like better. I'll never abuse myself into the kind of writer I think I want to be.

The first chapter of Powder Blue was written on a random day of the week after work. I was in a server -- the first fandom server I'd properly joined and talked in, watching a convo about how funnyt it would be for Ed to be a middle aged sugar baby -- when I pulled out my laptop and wrote for an hour and then posted that chapter to the server. I hadn't written for five years before OFMD. I had never finished a multi chapter fic. I posted that chapter and went to make dinner, and assumed the Google Docs link would get lost in that channel after a few likes.

That's not what happened.

The next few months were...a lot. My 7 year old Twitter account blew up from about 200 followers to 1000 in a matter of months. I was misinterpreted half a dozen times. Suddenly, people knew who I was and had Opinions. Some of those Opinions were Not Nice. I was told to grow a thick skin and get over it. So I figured my extreme reactions -- physical shaking, intense fear, a spiking heart rate, like I was being chased -- were just me being weak. I thought if I just sucked it up and laughed it off, it'd stop affecting me.

Turns out RSD is real and not an excuse I was using to be a baby, and it literally didn't get better until I was medicated! Wild

(This -- "I'm just overreacting and everyone else is secretly handling it better" -- has been a pretty consistent pattern my entire life, so figuring out I'm actually AuDHD has been mindblowing. If you've been wondering why you're so weak your whole life, I've got some screening tests you might be interested in).

Anyway my point is, a few things happened over the course of 2023 that brought me to a level of emotional pain I've never experienced.

At the start of the year, I was taking a self imposed internet break, after being forced to apologize for a tweet thread about Izzy, where I'd made the mistake of suggesting that fans of his should consider thinking about why they enjoy his character, but to only do this if they wanted to and ignore me if they didn't. This was taken as me being a hypocrite, and accusing Izzy fans of being terrible people. I apologized, vowed to never mention him again, and left Twitter for a month. Around the same time, a few things in a very close friend group went very wrong. I assumed it was entirely my fault for misbehaving, picked myself up, and tried to punish myself into a shape that would be acceptable for other people.

It didn't work.

Since I was now marked as an anti-Izzy bully, I couldn't say anything -- either on Twitter or in private -- that wouldn't be interpreted as me trying to start fights, as me being passive aggressive, as me trying to send covert messages for others to decipher so they could come and grovel for my forgiveness. Some of this is my fault -- it took a long time to learn than my private locked Twitter account isn't a diary. it took even longer for me to learn that maybe the people I was hanging out with weren't my people.

During all of this, I was posting Powder Blue after months of tears, pain, heartbreak, frustration and stress. I still don't understand why people write books for work or FUN. It was the most horrific experience of my life. It was valuable and so rewarding but jesus christ did writing PB take a lot out of me.

So as I felt less connected to my friends, as I was trying to hide how I felt because I thought I didn't deserve to be upset about anything (everything is always my fault, you see, and if I just behaved better, these things wouldn't happen to me), someone came to me and said they'd noticed some issues with Powder Blue. I'll refer to this person as the reader.

I was more than happy to hear them out. And it's true that I made some mistakes. The environment that I published PB in was not the one that I wrote it in. I didn't read any other sugar daddy/sex work fics as I was working on PB. PB was never a reaction to those fics. But because of those stories, which had handled things is harmful ways, there was suddenly a responsibility I'd never expected to have. I've never done sex work, I've just spent a lot of time listening to sex workers and trying to understand the legislation and environment as much as I can as a lay person. And since I don't have a personal experience with sex work, I shared my finished but rough draft with the reader, who did.

The problem, ultimately, is not something I could ever have fixed to their satisfaction. The fic doesn't involve dubious consent on a level that I think warrants an archive warning tag -- I tried to make it explicitly clear that Ed never does anything he doesn't want to, and that he's never coerced. The issue is that the nature of Ed and Stede's relationship is inherently uneven -- Stede is rich, and although he gives Ed money that's his to keep, Ed still isn't as obscenely wealthy as Stede is. Ed is poor and has been for a while. He's good at whatever he chooses to do, but he's struggling. That's a very uncomfortable spot to put Ed in. I also put Ed through some things that I've personally been through, as a way to work through my feelings and to try and better understand myself. If I was acting like Ed in real life, the reader is right that it would be concerning. But, importantly, Ed's not real. Nothing in this story is happening to a real person. Nothing in this story is an endorsement of any of his behaviours or unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I still believe the reader had good intentions -- the amount of effort they put into coming to me would be utterly bizarre for someone who was just looking to be cruel for no reason. But that also doesn't change the fact that being told I was having a trauma response and needed to stop working on the fic immediately, pushed me into the most suicidal period I've ever experienced.

That's not their fault. I'm sure that wasn't their intention. I've chosen to not try and find out who they are, or try to contact them again to respect their privacy. Some of the things people said to me, publicly dismissing the reader's pain, were so harrowing to read that it made me feel worse for ever writing PB in the first place. They were right to stay anonymous.

I'm sure the reader never meant for me to have such a massive breakdown that I took down the entire fic and left Twitter (and a few friend groups). It's been difficult to understand that just because someone didn't mean to hurt me, doesn't change the fact that I was hurt.

One silver lining is that I did go and find a new therapist. She's great! And she also thinks that how the reader tried to bring things up to me was wrong. As the reader obviously saw, I have a lot of Trauma, so I'm still not entirely convinced that I didn't deserve what happened to me. I'm not angry at them. I appreciate their concern. I just can't do what they asked of me. In the end, Powder Blue was not a story that was right for them. And that's okay.

My point in detailing all of this, is that I stayed quiet for a long time because I didn't think I deserved to tell my part of the story. I was scared that when people said they respected my choice to take down the fic, that they agreed I'd some something impossibly harmful. People trusted my judgement but I didn't trust myself. But people didn't know that I didn't trust myself.

Additionally, reader can't speak on this without revealing themself in some way. I'm terrified that they might read this and say something anyway. My biggest fear is becoming the kind of writer who sees negative criticism and pushes on anyway, or even blocks people who disagree with me. I don't want to hurt anyone the way I've been hurt.

BUT I've been holding onto this for months. I cannot write a perfect fic that will never trigger anyone. I will never write a meaningful story that won't hurt someone, no matter my intentions. There IS a way to admit you fucked up, or a way to listen and disagree, without turning into a raging asshole. I'm struggling to find that line. I'm hoping I'm making the right choice here.

And honestly, I'm just soft. I am so fucking soft. I talk a big game but I am so soft that a single person poking at my trauma caused me to break down so severely that my partner was legitimately afraid for me. I am learning that this softness doesn't mean I should become a crueler person to cope. But it's hard. There are going to be people who see this post and think I'm being a whiny crybaby looking for attention and pity. And I just have to deal with that.

Anyway. All previous chapters of PB will be up soon. Read them or don't. I will do my best to add more detailed trigger warnings. And I would personally suggest that if you're worried about any of the content in the fic, to run these worries past a friend who's read the fic, because they'll know you better than I ever will. Please don't read Powder Blue if you think it'll harm you. I would rather have fewer readers than triggered ones.

If there's anything I've missed that you think I need to address, know that my inbox is open, that anon is on, and that I'm not in the business of retaliating against people who come to me with an issue, even if they're a dick to me while they're doing it. I'm not going to dismiss someone because they weren't nice to me while they were upset. I'm a bitch but I'm not that kind of bitch.

So. Thank you for waiting for this fic. Thank you for waiting for me. We've got something like 16 chapters to go, and I can't tell you when they'll be up, or if they'll be up soon. But thank you for loving this story. I can't tell you how much that means to me, especially now.

Love,

Scarr

#scarrlet rambles #powder blue #about powder blue #this is also just a really long about me

147 notes · View notes

bupia · 3 months

Text

Silent bonds: Papa Emeritus II x AFAB!Reader (4 Chapters in 1 Post)

Summary: You and Secondo have shared a lasting friendship since he became the Papa Emeritus II. As he immerses himself in preparations for an impending date, latent feelings begin to surface, raising the question of whether your relationship can evolve beyond friendship.

Words: 26.401

Available on AO3 divided by 4 Chapters

A rhythmic knock resonated through the door connecting your office to the Papa's, drawing your attention away from the papers on your desk. Given the hour, it wasn't unexpected for him to seek you out for more tasks or discussions. With a deep breath, you acknowledged the familiar sound with a smile, allowing yourself a brief stretch to ease the tension in your back and eyes.

"Enter," you uttered, rising from your chair.

Upon the door's creaking open, he peered into your cabinet, scanning the space until his eyes rested on you. Secondo, the Papa Emeritus II from the Ministry where you worked as a Deacon, had been a close friend for many years. While others might find the idea of being friends with Secondo peculiar, you saw nothing odd about it. Being his friend wasn't strange; it was a privilege. Secondo was sweet, funny, caring, a bit of a teaser, and remarkably intelligent. People often mistook him for someone serious, devoid of humor, or as someone who seldom smiled, but you knew better. The Secondo you were friends with was far from those misconceptions.

Yet, today, something felt different. Typically, a smile would grace his lips when his eyes met yours upon entering your cabinet. As he stepped inside, you circled your table, coming to a stop with one hand on the desk and the other on your waist, observing him approaching. Without a word, he slumped into one of the chairs facing your desk. A silent chuckle escaped you as you turned towards him. No words were necessary; a tilt of your head conveyed the inquiry, prompting him to throw his head back in annoyance, the frustration evident in the sound he made.

"So...?" A soft chuckle escaped you as you playfully nudged his calf with your foot, prompting him to lift his head and meet your gaze.

Secondo settled more comfortably into the chair, offering you a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I won't forgive you for not showing up," he muttered, a trace of annoyance in his tone.

You gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your chest. "How dare you?"

"No, how dare you not come," he retorted, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Someone has to do the important work," you teased, smirking.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "And I suppose that someone is you, sì?"

You grinned, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps," he repeated with a nod.

You leaned against the edge of your desk, crossing your arms. "How was the lunch?"

"Same as usual, Deacon. Endless discussions about the future of the Ministry. Nothing out of the ordinary," he sighed.

"And what about the Clergy today?"

"The Clergy... quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini," he grumbled, frustration etching lines on his face. "You really can't keep skipping the lunch meetings."

A defiant smirk played on your lips as you replied, "Oh, I can, and I will. None of them can utter a single objection, and I'll make sure of it."

Secondo's lips curled into a wry smile, a certain amusement glinting in his eyes as he listened to your words. It reminded you of the times he had praised your steadfast demeanor, expressing his admiration for how you refused to be intimidated, especially by the imposing figures of the Clergy. He had commended your ability to wield your authority confidently, acknowledging the power you held and the way you wielded it.

"Your defiance is a rare trait," Secondo remarked, his tone a mix of approval and amusement.

You chuckled, appreciating Secondo's words. "Well, I learned from the best," you quipped, giving him a sly look.

Secondo's laughter resonated, and he nodded in agreement. He shifted his gaze to a distant corner, his eyes taking on a contemplative expression as if lost in thought. "Ah!" Secondo exclaimed, a sudden realization lighting up his features.

"What!?"

Rising from the chair, Secondo turned toward the door. "Follow me to my office."

Following Secondo, you walked toward the door linking your cabinet to his office. As the Deacon of the Ministry, your closer collaboration with him was an unspoken privilege. However, he'd never admit to such favoritism, even to you. Your role as a Deacon involved working closely with higher-ranking members, including the Papa Emeritus, to implement organizational goals and initiatives.

Your role within the Ministry was multifaceted, blending administrative prowess with a deep understanding of the sacred rituals and traditions. Your responsibilities extended beyond mere paperwork, delving into the intricacies of maintaining the Ministry's sanctity and efficiency. With each document meticulously scrutinized, you ensured that the delicate balance between tradition and progress was upheld. Your work bore the weight of the Ministry's legacy, and you navigated through the bureaucracy with the precision of a seasoned diplomat.

At least, that was the explanation Secondo would offer to anyone questioning potential privileges, underlining the professional nature of your connection.

Reaching for the door, Secondo stood beside it, gesturing for you to enter his office. With a nod of gratitude, you stepped inside, and he followed, leaving the door ajar. Moving from behind you, Secondo approached his desk, while you stood closer to the door, observing him as he sifted through folders atop his desk.

"More work for me?" you inquired with curiosity.

"I'm afraid so," he replied. "I need you to wrap up those files for the upcoming ritual."

"Oh!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to his desk, hands tucked behind your back. "Of course, Papa."

"We've talked about this; stop calling me Papa," he said, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "Papa is reserved for public moments. You know I'm fine with you using my name when it's just us, as we always have."

"Alright," you said, bringing your hands to rest on his desk, leaning slightly. "Se-con-do," you playfully spelled out his name, causing him to huff, and you suppressed a silent giggle.

"That's better," he said, extending a folder towards you.

"Is it?" you asked, with a mocking tone.

"The folder," he reminded, gesturing with the document in his hand.

"For when do you need those?" you inquired, your fingers lightly tapping on the edge of his desk.

"Tonight would be ideal," he said, glancing up at you. "We need everything in order before the Clergy starts poking their noses where they don't belong."

"I'll ensure everything is organized," you started. "But, can't it be for tomorrow morning, Papa?"

"Pasticcina..." he uttered your nickname with a serious tone. He didn't use it often, but when he did, there were hidden meanings, and you had grown accustomed to interpreting them based on the tone he employed.

"Fine," you replied, turning your back and making your way back to your cabinet. The sound of him clearing his throat halted your steps, prompting you to turn back. "Yes?"

He met your gaze. "I know you'll finish those tonight. If there's someone who can do it, that one is you, sì?"

You chuckled and nodded. "Of course, Pa-pa," you lingered on his title, relishing the pronunciation, before stepping back into your cabinet and closing the door behind you.

You returned to your desk, knowing that the remainder of the afternoon would be consumed by the documents from the folder he had given you. Yet, it was within the scope of your duties at the Ministry, so there was no room for complaints. Besides, you were assisting a friend, and that fact alone made the task more bearable.

Placing the folder on your desk, you sighed as you glanced at the other ones you had already started reading and organizing. It promised to be a long afternoon. With a deliberate exhale, you settled into your chair, redirecting your attention to the documents you were checking before Secondo entered your cabinet. Determination fueled your focus as you aimed to complete them before tackling the new files he had entrusted to you.

As the hours passed, the ambient light in your office shifted from the warm glow of the afternoon to the subdued hues of evening. The rhythmic tick of the clock on your wall was a steady companion as you delved into the complexities of your tasks. Lost in the labyrinth of paperwork, you were only stirred by the soft knock on your door linked to Secondo's office.

You raised your head to look at the door, and the realization that night had settled outside your window dawned upon you. You sighed, feeling the strain in your shoulders, and stretched your back, the subtle crackle providing momentary relief, before rubbing your eyes.

"Come in," you said with a tired voice, followed by a yawn.

As the door opened, Secondo stepped inside, his discerning eyes catching the subtle signs of your diligence. You smiled at him, leaning back in your chair. You noticed he had already discarded his Papa robes, now wearing only his customary full black outfit underneath. Like you, his expression, though obscured by the skull face paint, hinted at weariness.

Closing the door behind him, Secondo made his way to your desk, and your eyes followed his steps through the cabinet until he reached for the chair he had occupied earlier that afternoon. With a deep breath, he settled into the seat.

"I hope I'm not interrupting," he remarked, his gaze lingering on the scattered papers.

"Just a momentary break," you replied, offering a weary but genuine smile.

Secondo reached for the folders on your desk, his fingers tracing the edges as he inquired, "Did you manage to finish it?"

"I did," you replied, a note of accomplishment in your voice. "Not only that, but I also finished the files you handed me this morning," you held out the organized folders, presenting them to Secondo.

His eyes narrowed slightly, with surprise and approval. "Impressionante," he remarked, taking the folders from you and deftly opening one to inspect the documents.

"It's my duty, Secondo," you responded.

He hummed in appreciation. "Can I ask you one more thing before you go?" Secondo's gaze met yours, a request lingering in his eyes.

You nodded.

"Would you..." His words trailed off as he diverted his gaze for a moment, a subtle hint of hesitation tainting his expression.

"Assist you with a new speech for the ritual?" you asked.

"No, I..." he started and sighed. "I have a date," he casually revealed.

"What?" your voice betrayed with surprise and disbelief. "When?"

"In some few days," Secondo sighed, his gaze momentarily distant as if contemplating his own decision. "I decided to... try something different," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of mystery and a hint of reluctance.

You arched an eyebrow, sensing the unusual weight behind his words. "Different? A date?" you teased.

"It's not a usual occurrence for me, as you well know," he grunted, a faint annoyance lingering in his expression. "Call it a whim, if you will. Just don't make it more than it is," Secondo glanced at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "It's just a dinner."

"Just dinner?" you repeated, eyebrows raised. "You're being unusually vague, Secondo."

He shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "I don't want to overthink it. It's just dinner, nothing more."

You tilted your head, studying him. "What did you need my help with?" you inquired.

He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling his sleeves up with a nonchalant air. "I just need some advice on conversation topics, maybe some dating tips; for now," he explained, a touch of vulnerability beneath his usual composed demeanor.

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "The great Secondo, seeking dating advice? Now, that's new."

He shot you a deadpan look, unamused. "Don't make a big deal out of it. It's just an experiment."

You chuckled. "Experiment or not, I'm honored to be the dating consultant for Papa Emeritus II. So, tell me about the details. Who's the lucky person?"

He hesitated for a moment before revealing, "It's someone from the Ministry."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Do I know them?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter," Secondo looked at you, a subtle intensity in his eyes.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "Sure, we can practice, but your level of commitment for what you call 'just dinner' is certainly something else."

He leaned against your desk, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. "Are you testing me?"

"Not at all. I wouldn't dare to test the almighty, the unholiest Papa Emeritus II," you said, your eyes gleaming with playful mischief.

He chuckled, a low hum following suit. "So, any suggestions for romantic conversation topics?"

You thought for a moment, tapping your fingers on the desk. "Well, what do you enjoy doing? Talk about your interests, and see if you have any common hobbies. You know, things you're passionate about."

He leaned back, considering your words. "Like what?"

"Secondo," you giggled. "You really never had been on a proper date?"

"I had some dates in the past," he admitted.

"I meant a proper one, with more talk than moans," you teased.

"Maybe not that many, then," he conceded with a smirk. "I just need some practice."

You chuckled at his response. "Alright, let's practice. Pretend I'm your date. Talk to me about something you're genuinely interested in."

He raised an eyebrow, glancing around the cabinet as if searching for inspiration. "I... well, I appreciate... Satanism."

"That's a start," you encouraged. "But, considering I already know your role as Papa in a Satanic Ministry, let's try something else, shall we?"

He huffed, crossing his arms. “I also have a passion for cooking.”

"Do you!?" you exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"

"Perhaps because we've never been on a date?" he teased, a subtle smile gracing the corner of his lips.

"Very funny, Secondo," you retorted. "What do you enjoy cooking?"

He pondered for a moment. "My mom taught me how to cook when I was younger, back before I moved here to the Ministry. So, in the days before I came to live here with my father, Primo and Terzo, she would prepare and teach me the recipes from her homeland. But, as you already know, since we used to live in Italy, she always found a way to blend both cuisines into one. So the short answer would be that I enjoy cook everything my mom taught me."

You listened attentively, nodding. "That's cu–better!" you quickly corrected yourself. "What more about you would you like to share?"

"I enjoy literature as well," he relaxed his posture, his arms uncrossed. "Particularly when it delves into the darker facets of human nature."

"That's interesting," you smiled at him.

"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head inquisitively.

You nodded in affirmation, mirroring his head tilt. "Which authors do you like?"

His eyes rolled upward in contemplation before returning to meet yours, locking gazes. "Lately, I've delved into 'The Masque of the Red Death' by Edgar Allan Poe."

You leaned in a bit, your eyes searching his. "And what is it about?" The question hung in the air, almost a murmur.

Secondo, responding to your intrigue, moved closer to your desk, resting his arms on it. "Mortality, decadence, and the inevitability of death."

Your eyes held his, and a subtle smile played on your lips. "It suits your taste, doesn't it?" The words slipped from your lips almost playfully.

For a moment, a silent exchange lingered between you, both locked in a gaze that held a subtle dance of unspoken sentiments. The back-and-forth felt almost automatic, a flow of words and glances that hung in the air. However, as the silence stretched, you broke the connection, blinking slowly and shifting your gaze to another corner of the room. The unspoken tension lingered, suspended in the quiet space between you.

"Now, should I ask you about your interests?" he asked, his gaze focused on you.

You leaned back, considering his question with a playful glint in your eyes. "Yes, feel free to ask."

He chuckled, a genuine warmth in his tone. "Molto bene, pasticcina... what are your passions?"

You smirked, playing along. "Well, I also have an appreciation for Satanism, though I suppose you know."

He chuckled. "Indeed, pasticcina. What more?"

You continued the playful practice, seamlessly transitioning from the hypothetical to the personal. As you delved into the conversation, Secondo surprised you with his genuine curiosity. He asked about your favorite dishes, the kind of music you liked, and even your preferred getaway destinations.

You found yourself opening up about your passions and quirks. Surprisingly, Secondo's interest wasn't feigned; he listened attentively, occasionally sharing his own preferences. A long time ago, you noticed that he genuinely enjoyed moments when you would talk at length, silently absorbing your words. And according to him, listening to you was a way for him to relax after a stressful or long day. It felt as if Secondo was peeling away the layers of formality, revealing a more personal side that you rarely glimpsed. His responses were not mere nods or brief acknowledgments; instead, he engaged with a genuine interest that touched your heart.

As you spoke, you couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity in Secondo's gaze. His eyes, usually carrying a weight of responsibilities and authority, softened into a more tender expression. It was as if, in this moment, the roles that defined your relationship were momentarily set aside, allowing a deeper connection to emerge.

"Ok, my time now! What’s your favorite memory from when you moved here?" you asked, resting your face on your hand as you stared at him.

"Favorite memory?" Secondo mused, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I used to sneak into the Chapel for late-night fake rituals with Terzo. We used to explore the rooms behind the Chapel."

Intrigued, you leaned forward. "Rooms? Behind the Chapel?"

He grinned, revealing a glimpse of mischief. "We would sneak around after official hours, inventing stories about rituals we'd perform once we became Papa Emeritus."

You chuckled, "Did you three ever get caught?"

"More times than we’d like to admit," he admitted with a laugh.

"Who would've thought you were a rebel in your youth," you teased, pointing playfully at Secondo.

He responded with a sly smile, reaching for your hand and lightly touching his index finger to the one you were pointing at him. "There are probably some things you don't know about me, pasticcina."

A warmth spread through you, and you pulled away your finger, shaking your head with a slight blush. "I bet I don't. After all, I just discovered today that you can cook!'"

Secondo chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes locked with yours. "A well-hidden talent, wouldn't you say? Maybe I have more surprises up my sleeves."

You couldn't help but smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I'm intrigued."

He leaned in as well, the desk between you feeling like an invisible boundary. "Are you, pasticcina?"

"Very much. Why? Shouldn't I?" you asked with a playful glint in your eyes.

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I can't tell you what to do, sì? Or maybe I can, as the Papa."

You laughed at his words and shook your head. "Yes, you're the Papa. And you're not my boss, so technically, you can't dictate my actions. Though, I must admit, sometimes you seem to believe otherwise," you added, flashing him a sweet smile.

"Pasticcina, you're forgetting that I'm Papa Emerius II of this Ministry. So, yes, technically, I'm the boss," he said, crossing his legs.

"Well, Papa Emeritus II, even if you're the boss you've always respected my autonomy. So I guess that's the reason we get along so well," you teased, giving him a knowing look.

He smirked, the twinkle of mischief present in his eyes. "You're right, I could never bring myself to dictate your actions. That's not something I desire. Especially in our circumstances."

"Our circumstances?" you laughed lightheartedly, shaking your head. "Any more hidden talents or skills you're keeping from me?"

Secondo's gaze intensified, and he leaned even closer. "Maybe you need to find out for yourself. I could surprise you one of these days."

You leaned back, feigning casualness, yet your eyes didn't leave his. "Surprises, huh? Maybe I also have a few tricks up my sleeve as well."

Secondo raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Do you?"

"Maybe," you admitted with a playful smile.

"Will you share them with me?"

"Absolutely not," you responded, shaking your head with a teasing grin. "Just like you, I'll keep my mysteries hidden," you pointed a playful finger at him. "But, I just hope that one day, I'll understand your enigmas."

He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I doubt you'll unravel all my mysteries. Some are meant to be kept, sì?" Secondo chuckled, rising from the chair with the folders in hand. "Grazie for practicing with me."

"Are we finished already?" you questioned, giving him a certain look. You didn't want this brief exchange between the two of you to come to an end.

"Sì, we are," he nodded in confirmation, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"Well, in that case, no need to thank me; I'm here for it," you reassured him, a genuine warmth evident in your tone. "We're friends, after all."

"You should go now, rest. It's late," he said, stretching his back.

You stood up from your chair, your gaze locked with his. "What about you?"

"I'll place these in the archives and then head to my chambers," he explained.

"Do you want me to come with you?" you offered, circling your table to stand by his side.

Secondo turned to face you, a gentle smile on his lips as he shook his head. Placing his hand on your cheek, he said, "I won't ask for more favors today. Go, rest, and I'll see you tomorrow." His touch lingered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.

"Fine," you huffed playfully. "But don't overwork."

"I won't, I promise," he replied, his eyes holding a sincerity.

You nodded, looking at him. Your eyes remained locked, holding onto each other's gaze. There was a peculiar intensity in the air, as if an unspoken connection lingered between you two.

"Before you leave," he said, stepping closer to you. "I do have a question."

"Well, it seems there's more for me tonight," you teased, chuckling. "Ask away."

"Just one question," he replied. "Let's imagine this is our first day together, you know, as my date," he said nervously. "How should I go about things at the end?"

"Well, it all depends on how the date goes," you responded with a thoughtful smile. "What happens next, really depends on the person you're with. Some might appreciate a goodnight kiss, while others might prefer a more reserved end to the evening. Best to gauge their preferences and perhaps just ask." You couldn't resist teasing him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Now, if by 'ending the night' you're referring to something more... intimate," you paused, a sly grin forming, "well, that also depends, Secondo. It's mostly up to your partner's comfort and desires. If they're up for it, great. If not, you might want to exercise a bit more patience and wait for the right moment."

Secondo chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, that's not what I was getting at," he clarified. "I'm not... thinking about anything too intimate for the first date. I just want to make sure I don't mess up the next steps. I'd like the date to be successful and maybe open the door for a second one."

You couldn't help but laugh at the misunderstanding. "Got it. It's always good to clarify these things. In that case, just be genuine, attentive, and considerate. If the connection is there, everything else will naturally fall into place."

Secondo nodded appreciatively. "Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo."

You grinned, offering a playful wink. "Exactly. And remember, if the date is going well, you'll sense it. If there's a good connection, you might even feel a spark. Just be yourself, and it'll all work out."

He smiled in response. "Grazie. I'll keep that in mind. Now, I should let you go. Don't want to keep you from your evening plans."

"Evening plans?" you chuckled. "More like bedtime plans. I just need to sle..."

Your words trailed off as Secondo delicately took hold of your hand, drawing it closer to his face. He pressed a soft kiss onto the back of it, his lips brushing smoothly, and his nose causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine. Secondo released your hand and raised his face to look at you again.

"Hope you have a good night," he whispered in a low, rough tone.

You nodded and you turned to leave, for some reason, you weren't feeling inclined to leave him tonight, prompting you to force yourself to look away. Giving him a warm smile, you made your way to the front door of your cabinet, opening it. You turned to face him for a last time and waved, a strange pull tugged at something inside you. Yet, without hesitating anymore, you left your cabinet, closing the door behind you. The corridor outside seemed quieter, the echoes of your footsteps resonating as you walked away. The night held a hint of something you couldn't figure out, but you pushed the thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the need for rest. Tomorrow would bring a new day.

The morning found you in the meeting room, surrounded by the table filled with members of the Clergy. Secondo occupied the central chair, presiding over the gathering. Annoyance lingered in the air, exacerbated by the early hour that seemed unfit for such deliberations. Yet, there you were, seated in your chair, contemplating the tedious proceedings. It was too early for such matters, and the weight of the Clergy's expectations pressed heavily on your shoulders. Despite the internal discontent, you maintained a composed exterior.

"How about we add a dance routine to the ritual, spice things up a bit?" one of the counselors inquired.

Secondo raised an eyebrow. "We're not putting on a show; it's a sacred ritual, not a ballroom."

"How about we all don hooded robes?" the Magister suggested, his tone edged with a touch too much enthusiasm.

"Are you aspiring to be one of my ghouls?" Secondo questioned with a stern undertone, tapping his fingers on the table's surface.

"No, Papa. I apologize," the Magister replied, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice.

Secondo sighed, his demeanor maintaining seriousness. "This is not a celebration; we strive for solemnity and reverence." He then turned to you. "Deacon, any suggestions?"

"Uh...How about we emphasize the significance of sin and purpose? You can give a solemn speech about it," you spoke with conviction, "Also, what about a ritualistic chant? A collective recitation to honor our Dark Lord."

Secondo stared at you for a moment in silence, then nodded approvingly. "A return to our traditions. I appreciate it, Deacon. Let's proceed with that direction, we need a ritual that aligns with our satanic traditions."

The members of the Clergy grumbled, but Secondo's decision remained unyielding. After all, he held the esteemed position of Papa Emeritus. While there were murmurs of discontent, there was an understanding that his word carried undeniable weight. Somehow, it felt like as if being part of the Clergy and his friend, provided a unique privilege, granting you proximity to Secondo's decisions and shaping the path of the Ministry.

Beyond the friendship you shared with Secondo, which allowed you to know him on a personal level, your role as his Deacon gave you insight into his vision for the Ministry. This deeper understanding empowered you to offer suggestions that aligned with his aspirations, making your contributions more impactful.

In other words, you knew him.

As the members of the Clergy dispersed at his dismissal, Secondo remained seated in his chair, and you in yours, waiting until the last member exited the door. A noticeable sigh escaped Secondo's lips, echoing in the now empty room. Amused, you turned your face towards him and couldn't help but giggle.

You gracefully rose from your chair and made your way towards Secondo. His eyes followed your movements until you stopped by his side, sitting on the table next to him.

"Rough morning?" you asked, studying Secondo.

"Hooded robes? That's the pinnacle of ideas for the meeting?" Another sigh, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.

You couldn't stifle a chuckle at his exasperated expression. "Well, he did make an attempt, didn't he?"

"That was an attempt?" he retorted with a huffed chuckle.

"Secondo..."

"Mi dispiace," Secondo conceded, rubbing his brows with his fingers and leaning back in his chair. "It's just frustrating sometimes."

You shifted closer. “I get it. The hooded robes suggestion was a bit out there.”

He sighed, turning his gaze to the door. “It’s like they’re trying to outdo each other.”

“Well,” you chuckled, “at least it keeps things interesting.”

"What do you mean?" Secondo inquired.

"I meant that," you sighed, shaking your head. "Come on, Secondo, early morning meetings? It's practically an invitation for absurd suggestions."

He chuckled, a genuine laugh escaping him. "You have a point, Deacon."

You joined in the laughter. "Maybe we should schedule meetings in the afternoon. Avoid the pre-dawn eccentricities."

Secondo raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Are you trying to spare me from hooded robe discussions?"

"Consider it a small act of mercy," you replied with a smirk.

Secondo chuckled silently, turning his eyes back to you, locking gazes. For a moment, you two just stared at each other. A warm smile crossed your face, and he quickly averted his gaze, rising from his chair. As he did, you gracefully slid from the table to the floor, observing him as he put his mitra back on his head.

“Back to the usual, I suppose,” Secondo remarked, adjusting his mitra.

You rose to your feet, a playful glint in your eyes. “The Ministry awaits for their unholiest Eminence, Papa Emeritus II.”

"Did you mean the Paper work?" He smirked, gesturing towards the door. “Shall we return to the office, Deacon? There’s more work to be done.”

You nodded, following him out of the meeting room. Secondo opened the door, allowing you to exit first, and then followed behind. The way back to his office and your cabinet was accompanied by a comfortable silence. The quiet corridors, still untouched by the bustling activities of the day, provided a serene atmosphere.

As you both walked together, your steps in perfect rhythm, a tranquil ambiance enveloped you. The morning’s hushed stillness allowed for reflection, interrupted only by occasional sounds echoing through the hallways. You sensed Secondo’s gaze on you at times, hinting at unspoken thoughts, yet you chose to ignore it, maintaining the quiet companionship between you two.

Reaching his office door, you placed a hand on his back, tapping your fingers in a silent farewell. As you slid your hand away, moving towards the door of your cabinet without looking back, Secondo surprised you by reaching for your wrist. You stopped, turning to meet his gaze.

With a subtle gesture of his head towards the door of his office, Secondo's unspoken invitation was clear. You nodded, and his hand moved from your wrist to your hand, holding it gently. Together, you walked into his office, and he closed the door behind you.

"What's going on, Secondo?" you inquired, a genuine tone of concern in your voice.

He turned towards you, still holding your hand. "Nothing, just wanted to discuss something before we dive into our daily tasks."

"Ah!" you exclaimed, relief evident in your voice. "All the silence and mysterious gestures... You scared me!" You chuckled, but the humor faded as you felt the grip of his hand tighten.

"I apologize, pasticcina," he said, releasing your hand. "It's nothing important; no need to worry. But I was thinking, after work, would you like to join me for dinner?"

"A dinner?" you raised a questioning brow. "Why?"

He moved to his desk, glancing away from you. "Yesterday, after you left, I started to ask myself about my plans for the date. I might admit I felt a bit pressured to decide without seeking an opinion, so I thought that meeting in my chambers for dinner would be more intimate," he explained. "So, what I'm suggesting is: could you come to my chambers later and share a meal with me? I'll take care of the cooking, so no need to worry."

"Yes, certainly," you affirmed with a nod. "But, why the sudden dinner plan?"

"Because I need your opinion," he explained, running his hand over his face and settling into his chair. "And I trust your taste, especially since you've never experienced my cooking skills before."

A playful giggle escaped you, and you bit your lower lip. "Putting in quite the effort for this date. They must be someone special, or... I'm not sure what else could explain it."

He nodded in agreement, rolling his chair away from the desk. Removing his mitra and placing it carefully on the edge, he continued, "They are. A lot. Grazie for helping me again," standing up, he lifted his robe and removed it. "I'll be expecting you after work, so you can change comfortably if you wish," he added while hanging his robe. "But for now, let's focus on work, sí?"

You nodded in agreement, offering him a sweet smile as you made your way to the door of your cabinet. Pushing it open, you impulsively gave him a final glance and found him looking back at you. However, as your eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze, and you did the same, entering your office and closing the door behind you.

Furrowing your brows, you walked to your desk and turned your face towards the door, a sense of confusion settling in as an unspoken tension lingered in the air.

Determined to delve into work, you tried to push aside the intrusive thoughts about Secondo's date. The realization that he needed your opinion for a personal matter lingered, adding an unexpected layer to your responsibilities. It felt like putting in extra hours for a friend, yet a subtle discomfort simmered beneath the surface, a feeling you couldn't quite decipher.

The day progressed, and the weight of your concentration on work led you to skip lunch, an unusual occurrence even without a meeting with the Clergy. The intensity with which you focused became a shield against the lingering thoughts, keeping your emotions in check. As the hours passed, the unease grew, a nagging sensation that you couldn't shake.

Amid your concentrated efforts, a knock on your door shattered the silence, pulling you away from your work. The interruption disrupted your train of thought, leaving you slightly disoriented as you looked towards the door.

Taking a deep breath, you stood up from your chair walking to the front of your desk and turned towards the door. Leaning against the edge of the desk, you called out, "Come in," crossing your arms in front of your chest.

As the door swung open, a sibling of sin from the ministry stood there. "I apologize for disturbing you, Deacon, but your presence is requested by the Magister in the Chapel."

"Thank you," you responded with a gentle smile.

The Sibling of Sin nodded, taking a step back from the door before leaving your cabinet. Just before the door closed, you signaled to keep it open. Seizing the opportunity, you made your way towards the door, leaving your cabinet and heading directly to the Chapel.

Uncertain of what the Magister could possibly need at this hour in the afternoon, you had no choice but to go. Entering the chapel, Archeon, the Magister, was already waiting for you, seated on one of the benches. As your eyes met his, you couldn't help but sigh.

"Magister," you greeted, closing the chapel's door behind you.

He turned his face towards you, rising from the bench. "Deacon, please, join me," he gestured to a door, his office and you walked towards it with him.

You approached, entering his office with him following suit. Archeon's expression bore formality and concern as he glanced at you.

"Deacon, I apologize for the sudden call, but there's a matter of urgency that requires your attention," he began, his tone carrying a weight.

"What is it?" you inquired, a note of concern in your voice.

"It's about the upcoming ritual," he replied with a smirk.

Suppressing any visible reaction, you maintained a composed exterior, merely nodding in response. You found yourself unwittingly drawn into another discussion about the ritual, a situation that seemed to be becoming a recurring theme in your day.

You couldn't shake the suspicion that Archeon had summoned you instead of Secondo, well aware that convincing the Papa might be an impossible task. It was a misjudgment on his part, as you held firm in your loyalty to Secondo and his decisions.

As the discussions delved deeper into the intricacies of the ritual, the afternoon gradually stretched into the night. Engrossed in the meeting, you realized you hadn't found a chance to escape from the Magister's grasp. After the prolonged discussions, you couldn't help but wish you were anywhere else at this point, yearning for a break from the relentless discourse.

"I was thinking we could enhance the upcoming ritual with some thematic decorations, perhaps—"

Raising your hand, you interjected wearily, offering a polite smile as your eyes flicked to the clock. "Magister, I appreciate your ideas, truly, but I've been immersed in logistical details all day." With a subtle gesture, you motioned towards the stack of papers on your desk. "I believe we've covered most bases. Can we possibly continue this discussion tomorrow?"

The Magister sighed, recognizing your exhaustion. "I completely understand, Deacon, but hear me out on these finer details about the ceremonial space. Picture this — ethereal lighting, symbolic artifacts, and maybe even a thematic focal point for the Papa Emeritus."

Nodding politely, you glanced towards the door, silently signaling the urgency of your situation. "Magister, your vision is inspiring, no doubt." As you spoke, you gathered the papers on your desk. "But I have an important matter to attend to now. Let's reconvene tomorrow, what do you think?"

"But, Deacon—" he began, reluctant to let go of his ideas.

You stood, a sense of determination in your eyes. "Tomorrow, Magister. I promise we'll give your ideas the attention they deserve. Right now, urgent matters call."

He nodded, understanding the present circumstances, and you gave him a reassuring smile. With that, you headed towards the door, leaving the Magister to contemplate his ideas inside one of the rooms of the Chapel.

As you navigated the corridors to reach Secondo's chambers, your thoughts drifted to reasons why he needed you tonight. You had been friends with Secondo for a considerable time, and you couldn't recall a time when he straight-up asked for your help on something so private. Granted, he had casually alluded to it on a few occasions, but it was more like random thoughts than actual requests. You pondered what was happening for him to break from his routine and embark on this unexpected endeavor.

Reaching for the door of his chambers, you shook away your thoughts. Raising your hand, you knocked on his door, mirroring the courtesy he had extended to you earlier. Soon, his voice echoed from inside, signaling you to push the door open and enter.

As you walked in, you made your way to his bedroom, finding him standing in front of the mirror, holding two shirts in his hands. He placed them in front of his bare chest, tilting his head repeatedly as he assessed the options. Leaning against the doorframe, you chuckled at the sight. Secondo shifted his gaze from his reflection to acknowledge your presence in the room.

"Which one?" he inquired, a serious tone in his voice.

"The white one," you replied, gesturing towards the shirt in his left hand.

He sighed and walked to his bed, discarding the other shirt as he began to don the white one. You made your way towards him, observing him buttoning his shirt. Stopping in front of him, you extended your hands to his neck, assisting with the collar of the shirt, your gaze fixed on his neck.

"Why are you picking out a shirt?"

"I had a little accident in the kitchen," he mumbled.

A playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your face up to meet his gaze. "You, Secondo, had a little accident?"

He sighed, arching a brow. "Sì"

"Feeling nervous?" you inquired, tilting your head as you looked up at him. Your thumbs traced gentle circles on the skin of his neck.

"I don't get nervous," he declared with a serious tone, his hands moving to rest on your arms, holding them securely.

Raising an eyebrow, you scrutinized his expression. "You don't get nervous?"

"No," he replied, withdrawing his hands from your arms and lightly placing one on the side of your body.

Shaking your head with a smile, you moved your hands from his neck to the buttons of his shirt, skillfully undoing the first two. "You're not about to lead a mass or attend a meeting; you don't have to be that formal." You finished unbuttoning his shirt, giving him a light pat on the chest. "There, much better."

Secondo maintained a stoic silence, his gaze fixed on you as your hands lingered on his chest. The discreet sound of him clearing his throat felt like a subtle cue for you to withdraw your hands, concealing the flicker of embarrassment. Stepping back, you aimed to regain your composure.

Inhaling deeply, Secondo clasped his hands together and turned towards the kitchen, prompting you to follow suit. As he entered first and headed towards the stove, you found yourself trailing behind, entering the kitchen with a slight sense of uncertainty. Not quite sure of what to do or where to go, you hesitated on the threshold.

"Are you hungry?" he inquired.

"A little bit," you admitted.

"Come here," he beckoned, and you moved in a beeline towards him, stopping right beside him.

Turning to face you, Secondo gently held your chin between his index finger and thumb. "Open," he instructed, and a flicker of confusion passed through your eyes. Nonetheless, he moved his thumb closer to your lower lip, caressing it gently. "Your mouth."

Your gaze remained fixed on him as you slowly parted your lips, feeling his thumb almost sliding inside your mouth. A satisfied hum escaped him as he let go of your chin, guiding the spoon closer to your mouth.

As the spoon neared and your lips were still parted, your eyes fixed on him, Secondo abruptly halted his movement. He shifted the hand with the spoon, and you instinctively reached for it, taking hold. As he withdrew his hand to turn back to the stove, your eyes focused on the spoon.

"Blew it before tasting," he advised. "It's a recipe from my mom; she used to cook this risotto."

Obediently, you blew on the spoonful and tasted it, savoring the blend of flavors from the ingredients. A content smile spread across your face as you closed your eyes.

"It's good, sì?" Secondo inquired, and you opened your eyes, nodding appreciatively. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he remarked, attempting to veil a subtle joy in his voice, though it lingered beneath the surface. "Now, take a seat, and I'll serve our food."

As Secondo finished serving, you took a seat, waiting for him to join. With graceful movements, he approached the table, placing a plate in front of you and another for himself. Seating himself, he reached for a bottle of wine, but just before pouring, a realization struck him. Standing up, he made his way to the countertop drawer, retrieving a lighter. Returning to the table, he ignited some candles, casting a warm glow in the room. He then went to the switch, turning off the lights before settling back at the table.

You looked around, slightly perplexed by the sudden change in ambiance. "What's all this?" you asked.

Secondo leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Just thought we'd get into the mood of a real date," he explained.

You chuckled, "A real date, huh?"

"Sì, why not?" he replied, pouring some wine into both glasses.

"I appreciate the gesture, but I think I'll pass on the wine," you said with a small smile. "Still have work tomorrow."

Secondo nodded and got up. "Nessun problema. I'll get you something else." He returned with a bottle of water and a glass cup, placing them in front of you. "I apologize. I should have asked before."

"No need to apologize," you reassured him, pouring yourself some water. "I appreciate it," you sipped your water. "This really feels like a real date," you remarked with a playful smile.

Secondo leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. "Well, I did ask you to meet me at night for a dinner,” Secondo admitted, a touch of genuine reflection in his voice. “But I called you here to make sure I’ve still got the charm.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Charm? Is that what you call it?”

He grinned, “Well, you haven’t run away yet, so it must be working, sì?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his playful banter. “I have to admit that your mother's risotto is being more powerful than your 'charm' right now. But, I suppose you have a point. So, what’s the plan for our fictional date talk practice tonight?”

Secondo lifted his wine glass, taking a sip. "I thought we could dive into some typical date talk again. Just, before we do it, why are you still in your work clothes?"

You glanced down at your attire and sighed. "The Magister called for me this afternoon for a discussion."

"What was it about?" Secondo inquired, picking up his fork to begin eating.

"Guess," you replied dryly. "Of course, it was about the ritual."

"Cretino," Secondo muttered under his breath. "I'll make sure he knows not to disturb you any further."

You chuckled, appreciating Secondo’s protective tone. “No need to worry, Secondo. I can handle the Magister, and besides, it’s part of the job.”

He sighed, delicately placing his utensils on the table. “I still don’t like it. You shouldn’t be bothered with such things. If I've made my decision, then he should stop pressuring you. I have the final say.”

You responded with a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, really. Now, back to our ‘typical date talk.’ If being a Papa Emeritus wasn't your destiny, you could have being a chef.”

A subtle smile forming at the corner of his lips as he focused on his food. "I'm truly glad you liked it."

"Are you planning to cook this for your date?" you inquired.

"No," he replied, taking a bite. "I mean... Yes, but, this dish is..." he continued. "This is a dish meant to be shared with someone special."

"Isn't your date someone special?" you quirked an eyebrow.

Secondo chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. “Of course. But this dish is... it has a meaning for me, and to share it with someone, for me, is truly intimate.”

You nodded, understanding. “So, what you are telling me right now is that I'm special?"

Secondo took another bite, savoring the flavors before meeting your gaze. "Maybe yes, maybe no," he said with a playful glint in his eyes.

You leaned in, a teasing smile on your lips. "Well, Secondo, you're not giving me a clear answer. Should I be offended or flattered?"

He chuckled, setting his fork down. "You see, 'special' is quite a broad term. it can mean a lot of tings."

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that? But I suppose it's better than a definite 'no'."

He laughed softly, a twinkle in his eyes. "However," he sighed before continuing. "I can't deny that sharing this with you is special. So maybe you're not just special; you're making it special."

You blushed deeply and he reached for your hand. You instinctively let him, both of you seemingly unaware of the unspoken shift in dynamics. The touch felt surprisingly natural, and as your fingers intertwined, the air in the room seemed to thicken with some strange newfound feeling.

“Perhaps,” Secondo began, his voice softer, “we could do this again sometime.”

You nodded. “Of course, I'd love to.”

The evening unfolded in shared conversations and laughter, the atmosphere feeling strangely intimate. Your hands remained intertwined, as if in sync with the unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a performance, or at least didn't feel like it as time seemed to slow down as you both reveled in the comfort of each other's presence.

As the meal drew to a close, Secondo rose, indicating his intention to take care of the dishes. Despite your offer to help, he insisted that you stay put, asserting his desire to handle the task. Weariness settling in, you acquiesced without further protest, allowing him to take charge.

Reclining in your chair, you observed him as he methodically rolled up his sleeves, ready to tackle the pile of dishes. Resting your elbow on the table, you cradled your cheek in your hand, captivated by the simple domesticity of the scene. Watching him in this moment, he seemed more than the formidable Papa Emeritus; he appeared as a person engaged in mundane yet oddly enchanting chores. It was a rare glimpse of Secondo unguarded, a side obscured by his role of authority.

Your eyes roamed over his silhouette, from the way his white shirt clung to him with meticulous precision, the impeccable fit of his black pants, down to his polished shoes. Every detail seemed to accentuate the allure of his form. As he worked on the dishes, your gaze lingered on the back of his head, his neck, his arms, and the motion of his strong hands. The entire sight prompted an involuntary sigh, a reflexive response to the unexpected allure of observing him.

Clearing your head, you shook off the enchantment and took in a deep breath. It felt odd to gaze upon him with such admiration, especially in the context of a casual evening. Reminding yourself that this was merely a performance, a shared act between two individuals, you sought to maintain a sense of detachment. The lines between the scripted performance and genuine connection blurred momentarily.

"Have you considered bringing flowers for your date?" you inquired, turning your gaze back to him.

Secondo paused in his actions, glancing over his shoulder. "Flowers?"

"It could be a nice touch," you suggested, your tone gentle, accompanied by a warm smile. "A thoughtful gesture, don't you think?"

"Flowers," he chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eye. "What kind of flowers?"

"I don't know, maybe... lilies, daisies or..." you paused, contemplating. "Oh! tulips!" you exclaimed, your face lighting up with a smile.

"Tulips?" he inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding with a continued smile. "Tulips expresses admiration."

"Tulips then," he decided, nodding in agreement.

"Yes, Papa. Tulips," you confirmed with a grin

"Stop," he said in a more serious tone.

"Stop with what, Papa?" you inquired, letting his title linger a bit longer on your tongue.

With a chuckle, Secondo turned towards you, arms crossed over his chest. "Pasticcina..."

"Papa?" you repeated, trying to suppress a laugh, your lower lip caught between your teeth.

He approached the table, placing his hands on it in front of you, lowering himself slightly. "Do you find it entertaining to mock me?"

With a playful tone, you replied, gesturing with your hand as if pinching an imaginary space between your thumb and index finger. "A little. But to be honest, I don't get why you don't like me calling you Papa. You call me Deacon!"

He sighed, closing his eyes. "When you call me Papa, it feels like you're just another one of them who sees me only in that role. I know you don't, or at least, I want to believe you don't. So when you do it, it feels like you're only acknowledging me as Papa. Also seeing me as someone above you, and I don't want you to see me as it. You're the only one I allow to call me by my name because... that feels more personal, more real."

"Secondo," you softly uttered his name, and a gentle smile graced his lips. "I..." you continued, observing as Secondo opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours.

He nodded slightly, a gentle expression in his eyes. "Now you know."

You couldn't help but feel a warmth in your chest, realizing the significance of calling him by his name. It was a privilege, a connection beyond titles and roles. You sensed a deeper bond, one that surpassed the boundaries of your official positions.

"But," you chuckled, looking away from his eyes. "That doesn't explain why you call me Deacon." As you spoke, you felt Secondo's gentle touch cupping your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze once more.

"That's easy to explain, actually," he replied, straightening his posture and adjusting his sleeves. "I call you Deacon because, in my eyes, you are more than just your title," Secondo said with a sincere tone, his eyes locked onto yours. "It's a term that resonates with the person you are to me—dedicated, capable. When I say it, it's not just a formality; it's a way of acknowledging the person I trust, respect, and consider my equal."

His words caught you off guard, surprise and warmth settling within. You sat there, momentarily frozen, unsure of how to respond, your gaze fixed on him. Secondo, with a subtle tilt of his head, seemed to enjoy your reaction. Breaking the moment, you burst into laughter, getting up from your seat and playfully hitting his arm with a soft punch. He reached for your hand, and pulled you closer.

"Should I let you go for tonight?" he whispered in a hushed tone.

Confused by his ambiguous words, you pondered the meaning behind "letting you go." What was he implying? You hesitated, uncertain of your response. Should you express a desire to stay longer, to extend this quiet and intimate moment with him? Yet, the reason behind that desire eluded you.

"Is our 'date' coming to an end?" you inquired, matching his subdued tone.

"It depends," he whispered back.

The air seemed to thicken, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. His proximity and the gentle embrace of your hands intensified the unspoken tension, leaving you breathless and uncertain how to navigate the intimate space between you.

"In that case," you began, gently retracting your hand from his grasp, "I suppose our night comes to an end."

As you spoke, Secondo remained silent, nodding in agreement while avoiding eye contact. He gestured toward the kitchen's door, prompting you to lead the way. Moving in silence, you felt the weight of your words, wondering if you had conveyed the wrong message. As you approached the front door, you hesitated, a desire to turn and look at him conflicting with the sense that you had just given an inadequate response.

Reaching the door, you stopped, making room for Secondo to open it for you. Gathering your courage, you glanced back at him, only to find his gaze fixed elsewhere. Sighing, you stepped outside, facing the corridor. Just as you were about to move on, he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on the back. As he released your hand, he remained silent, offering a small nod and a faint smile.

Taking a step back into his chambers, Secondo slowly closed the door, allowing for a prolonged gaze between you two. When the door finally shut completely, you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, exhaling heavily. Holding the hand he had kissed against your face with the other, you could feel your heart racing and your cheeks burning.

You hurriedly retreated to your chambers, not daring to glance back. No furtive glimpses, not even with the corner of your eye. Distance was your ally, and you needed to put as much of it between you and him as possible. The empty corridors allowed for swift, almost running steps, the only sounds being the echo of your hurried pace and the rapid beating of your heart.

Upon reaching the door to your chambers, you wasted no time and swung it open, entering in haste. As the door closed behind you, you leaned against the wooden surface, taking a moment to catch your breath before attempting to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Turning your gaze to your hand, the one he had just kissed, you were certain you could still feel the warmth of his lips on it. Driven by a mix of desire and bewilderment, you brought the hand closer to your face, hovering it near your lips. With closed eyes, you allowed yourself to savor the sensation, as if the residual heat from his kiss on your hand was transferring directly to your lips. It almost felt like...

You opened your eyes, fixating on your hand outstretched in front of you, prompting a sigh to escape your lips. As your gaze trailed the back of your hand, there it was—the imprint of his lips, the distinctive black lines from his face paint against the white. Your eyes softened, and you closed them once more. Bringing your hand close to your mouth, you allowed yourself to place a gentle kiss on the marked skin. As you withdrew your lips from your hands, the faint imprint of his kiss lingered. The sensation was as if you had just shared a kiss with Secondo, kindling a flame within you.

The line for the confessional today was incredibly long. It wasn't your usual practice to engage in this, as you preferred to grapple with your sins in silence. Moreover, your role as a Deacon didn't mandate such confessions. However, during your free moments, you occasionally indulged in sharing your transgressions with the Cardinal of the week, the Minister, or even the Papa Emeritus himself.

The problem lay in the aftermath of the previous night, as an unusual sense of guilt and embarrassment gripped you. It was a sentiment you couldn't entirely comprehend, but the source of your embarrassment was clear – the intimate act with your hand that felt inherently wrong.

The queue for the confessional was filled with siblings eager to speak with Secondo. However, as his Deacon, you were well aware that he wouldn't be available today due to a busy morning. You found solace in the knowledge that he wouldn’t be the one hearing your thoughts, actions, and feelings today. Instead, the confessional would be attended by one of the Ministers from the Ministry, as per the schedule.

As the queue inched closer to your turn at the confessional, a sense of nervousness tinged your anticipation. You knew you needed to confess the guilt and embarrassment you felt from the previous night, but you were determined to keep the details superficial and avoid any mention of Secondo. The goal was to confide without revealing the true source of your inner turmoil, ensuring that whoever listened on the other side remained unaware of the specific circumstances.

After a brief wait, it was finally your turn at the confessional. As you stepped into it, the familiar scent of aged wood surrounded you, creating a somewhat comforting atmosphere. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.

"Forgive me, Minister, for I've sinned," you began, your voice calm within the confines of the confessional.

Inside, a brief silence ensued, and you turned your head, catching a glimpse of the Minister's silhouette through the window. He nodded, prompting you to take a deep breath.

“I… I found myself in a situation that felt inappropriate,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel ashamed and embarrassed about it. I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but I do.”

Turning your gaze to the silhouette once more, another nod from the Minister signaled for you to continue.

"I know that embracing desire is considered virtuous, and I shouldn't feel shame, but I do," you confessed, leaning against the confessional wall. "I find myself entangled in thoughts and feelings of lust with someone I shouldn't. He wasn't someone I desired before or maybe did; I regarded him as an equal, a friend. However, something has changed, he looks different now."

The Minister's silhouette stayed stoic, leaving you uncertain about whether to continue. However, you knew he wouldn't abandon the confessional.

"We've had some conversations in the last few days, and it's embarrassing because I shouldn't be feeling this way about him after such a short time, but the way he talks, the care he shows when I'm talking..." you smiled. "The way he expressed how he sees me... and other things. I start to feel like I've been blind whenever I was close to him or just ignored things I shouldn't have, and for that, I feel embarrassed. My sin today is this guilt inside of me."

You furrowed your brows as the silhouette remained stoic, leaving you unsure of how to proceed.

"Minister? Should I proceed?" you asked with uncertainty.

He nodded in response.

"I should be proud of what happened yesterday; after all, lust is embraced here. But, all I feel is guilt. Guilt for the desire I felt, for what I imagined with him," you sighed, closing your eyes and pressing your legs together. "For the longing for a kiss, just an innocent kiss," you murmured, opening your eyes. "I feel guilty for wanting my friend, for desiring him, for needing him."

You sighed, shifting your gaze to the silhouette on the other side of the confessional booth. The Magister remained a silent listener, patiently absorbing your words.

"I feel like I’m caught in this whirlwind of emotions," you confessed, your gaze dropping to your feet. "I'm starting to think maybe this attraction was always lurking around, unnoticed or dismissed. It's confusing – being drawn to him when it feels like I shouldn't. But," you grinned, "I can't shake the thoughts of him, and this curiosity to unravel more about who he really is."

You awaited a response, but the Minister stayed silent. The thought that they might have figured out who you were referring to started to gnaw at you, a tightening sensation in your stomach.

"Thank you, Minister, for listening," you expressed as you gently opened the confessional door and stepped out, leaving the weight of your confessions within its sacred space.

Exiting the confessional, you headed back to your cabinet, exiting the chapel. In the corridors, you spotted the Magister, you anticipated the conversation you had promised him yesterday. Inhaling deeply to prepare yourself, as you walked past him, however, he deliberately avoided your presence, not even bothering to meet your gaze.

Observing him stride away, a chuckle escaped your lips. It seemed Secondo had indeed managed to convey the message to leave you alone. As you continued to your cabinet, you passed by Secondo's office door, giving it a brief glance. He probably hadn't returned yet from the meeting he had scheduled for this morning. Reaching your own door, you opened it and stepped inside.

The rest of the day unfolded with an unusual quietness. Secondo didn't show up after the meeting hour, and there were no requests or messages from him. The typically atmosphere of his office, where you could hear the muffled sounds of him discussing matters with other siblings or working on various tasks, was eerily silent. You couldn't even catch a glimpse of him through the slightly open door of his office.

Despite the unusual circumstances, you decided to focus on your work. The Ministry's duties and responsibilities demanded your attention, and you knew that dwelling on Secondo's absence wouldn't serve any purpose. Your tasks as a Deacon required precision and dedication, and you delved into your responsibilities, pushing aside any thoughts about the peculiar events of the day.

Yet, you missed him.

As the hours passed, the normal rhythm of your work continued, and you worked on managing requests, coordinating schedules, and overseeing the operations within the Ministry. The day rolled on, and soon it was approaching the end of your work shift. Still, there was no sign of Secondo, and the unusual emptiness in his office lingered in the air. You wondered if something significant had occurred or if he simply had other matters to attend to. Regardless, you maintained your focus on your duties, determined to fulfill your responsibilities until the last moments of your workday.

The sudden knock on your door nearly startled you, prompting a swift rise from your chair. Fueled by the hope that it might be Secondo, you hurried to the door, anticipation coursing through you. However, to your disappointment, it was one of the ritualists who awaited you on the other side.

"It's quite late, and I understand if you've wrapped up your work, but I have some details for the upcoming ritual at the end of the week," he mentioned, gesturing with a folder in his hand.

"Please," you said, stepping back to allow him entry. "Come in."

He nodded, stepping into your cabinet. "It's not urgent. Honestly, you can address it tomorrow, but I needed someone reliable to take a look at the final document."

As you closed the door, you faced him. "You do realize you should have handed it to Papa, right?"

"Don't you know?" he inquired, noticing your confusion. "Papa didn't attend the morning meeting, and no one has seen him since then."

"What!?" you exclaimed, attempting to mask your emotions. "What do you mean?"

"I assumed you might knew," he said, placing the folder on your desk.

"I..." you glanced at Secondo's door. "I didn't..." you sighed, shifting your focus back to the ritualist. "Maybe he was just occupied for the day."

"Perhaps," he replied with a shrug. "Well, thanks for receiving me," he said, heading toward the door and opening it. "As I mentioned, don't stress about the files today; you can handle them tomorrow."

As the ritualist departed, closing the door behind him, you swiftly approached Secondo's office door connected to your cabinet. Pushing it open, you scanned the room. There was no indication that he had been in his office today. Unusual – it wasn't typical for Secondo to be absent from the office or working elsewhere without a clear reason.

A troubling thought surfaced: could his absence be tied to his date? Perhaps he was preparing for it, but was it today? Regardless, he wouldn’t neglect his responsibilities like this, especially not without keeping you informed.

Exiting his office, you returned to your cabinet. Without a second glance, you headed to your front door and left. Determined to locate Secondo, you were certain he would be in his chambers—the only place where he could remain hidden for an extended period without being spotted.

As you walked purposefully through the corridors, the urgency of finding Secondo fueled your steps. Upon reaching the entrance to Secondo’s chambers, a moment of hesitation overcame you before retrieving the spare keys hidden at the top of the door and pushing it open.

“Secondo?” No response. The silence pressed against your ears, amplifying the tension.

To your surprise, the room was empty. The subtle scent of incense hung in the air, but there was no sign of Secondo. The mysterious absence deepened your concern. Maybe he had left a clue, a note, or something that could shed light on his sudden disappearance. You began to search the room, checking every corner, every piece of parchment on his desk.

Nothing.

As you stood in the center of Secondo's chamber, uncertainty gripped you. Where could he be? The unanswered questions piled up, and a sense of foreboding weighed on your shoulders. An eerie silence enveloped the room. The air seemed to hold its breath.

Exiting his chambers, you headed back to your cabinet, determined to focus on the documents the ritualist had delivered. You pondered where else Secondo might be if not in his chambers. A sense of worry gnawed at you; his prolonged absence was unusual, especially for the entire day.

Arriving at your cabinet's door, you paused, taking a deep breath. Your gaze involuntarily flicked to Secondo's closed office door, searching for any hint of light beneath it. To your disappointment, there was none. Deciding not to dwell on it further, you pushed open your door. But, just as you were about to step inside, you found him already there, standing in front of your desk, holding the folder delivered by the ritualist.

"Secondo!" you exclaimed, stepping inside.

"Deacon," he said, meeting your gaze with a seemingly innocent expression. "I was wondering where you went."

"I should be the one asking that," you retorted. "What's going on? Where have you been?"

"In the... Ministry...?" he asked, arching a brow in mock innocence, placing the folder on your desk. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean!" you said, your tone sharpening. "You've been absent the entire day!" you said, stepping closer to him.

"Deacon..."

"No," you interrupted, pointing at him as you closed the distance. "Don't use my title or—"

“Pasticcina,” Secondo interjected. His tone remained steady but carried an unspoken weight.

As the familiar nickname reached you, you came to a sudden stop a few inches away from him. Casting a brief glance in his direction, you took in his unadorned appearance – no face paint, only wearing the clothes he typically donned under his Papa's robe.

“I had some personal matters to attend to,” Secondo explained, breaking the momentary silence. His eyes met yours, revealing something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Personal matters?” you repeated, your tone a blend of skepticism and curiosity. “You were absent the whole day.”

He sighed, a hint of frustration evident. “There are aspects of my duties that require discretion. It’s nothing to concern yourself with, pasticcina.”

"What? Since when?" you said, frustration evident, releasing his hand. "Are you kidding me?" The heat of anger simmered within you. "Secondo, you've been absent the entire day. I assumed maybe a lengthy meeting, but it felt odd. No communication, no nothing throughout the day," you continued. "This isn't your usual behavior. You don't skip work, you don't disappear, and most importantly, not without..." Your words trailed off.

"Not without?" he inquired.

"Not without telling me," you sighed, turning away and rubbing your hands over your eyes. "I'm your Deacon; you can't pull disappearing acts without informing me about what's happening." As you faced him again, he stood unexpectedly close, the intensity of his presence catching you off guard.

"I didn't skip work today," he asserted, looking down at you. "I was working."

"Oh, were you?" you shot back with a defiant look, crossing your arms. "Really?"

"Sì?" he replied, mirroring your crossed arms. "Why would I lie to you?"

"I don't know, maybe for the same reason you hid from me the entire day?" you said, the anger still simmering. "I even thought that maybe your date was today, and you were..." you inhaled deeply. "there... with them." As you said it, your words came out laden with frustration and an unspoken hurt. "But, I've had enough of these vague answers, Secondo," you said, your frustration boiling over. "What happened today? You can't just disappear without a word."

He sighed, his gaze shifting away. "It was unexpected."

"Unexpected? That's all you're giving me?" you retorted, unconvinced. "Everyone in the Ministry was worried, and I was left in the dark."

"I'm sure no one was worried, pasticcina, and I apologize for the concern," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"You can't just—I'm the Deacon! I should know what's happening," you insisted, your eyes narrowing.

He paused, as if grappling with a decision. "Bene, I'll tell you," he conceded, meeting your gaze. "I was in a private duty today."

"A private duty?" you echoed, puzzled. "What could possibly be a private duty?"

He hesitated, then admitted, “I am the Papa Emeritus of the Ministry, after all. Sometimes, I need to be the listener,” he explained, a shadow of weariness crossing his features.

“A listener?” you questioned, still trying to grasp the extent of his absence.

“I skipped the meeting because I couldn’t shake off some of my thoughts. Then, I found myself in the confessional today,” he repeated, his tone revealing a deeper truth. “Listening to confessions. I wanted to offer guidance, to be there for those who needed it."

“So, it means that it was—” a sudden realization hit you. If Secondo was the one inside the confessional today...

Secondo gently reached for your face, cupping your cheek. “Do you want to talk about why you felt guilty?”

Your eyes widened as you looked at him. “I don’t.”

"Are you sure about that, pasticcina?" he inquired, his thumb lightly tracing the line of your jaw.

You tried to maintain composure. "I don't feel guilty."

He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. "Confessionals are meant for honesty, you know."

You took a deep breath. "I don't have anything to confess," you insisted, though your gaze flickered with uncertainty.

"But you had," Secondo’s gaze held an unspoken challenge. “Don't hide your sins from me, pasticcina,” his thumb continued its gentle caress.

“I… I just...” you stammered, attempting to evade the specifics. Feeling the pressure, you took a step back, creating a slight distance between you and Secondo. His eyes followed your movement, and took a deep breath.

"You can talk to me," he persisted, closing the gap again, his gaze unwavering. "What happened?"

You continued to evade, attempting to maintain composure. "It's nothing, really."

He pursued you, narrowing the distance between you once more. "Tell me," he urged, his voice a soft but insistent whisper. "I want to help you to get rid of this feeling. Let me, your Papa, guide you."

As the space between you diminished, you met his gaze, and in a barely audible whisper, you admitted, "I feel guilty because of you."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed Secondo’s eyes as he maintained the proximity, absorbing your whispered admission. Before he could respond, you spoke up.

“I feel guilty,” you confessed, “for wanting you,” the words tumbled out, revealing the turmoil within. "But I shouldn't because we are friends... But yesterday, all I wanted for some reason was you, your touch, a kiss..."

Without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The air seemed to pause, and then, with a gentle and unmistakable determination, he pressed his lips to yours. For a moment, he held still, leaving his lips lightly grazing yours, waiting for your response.

As you closed your eyes slowly, you took a deep breath, reciprocating the kiss. That was all the encouragement he needed. Secondo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.

Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, fingers tracing patterns as your lips moved in harmony. Slowly, your hands caressed down to his belly before settling on the sides of his body. As you explored the contours, Secondo responded by unwrapping his arms from around you. His hands then journeyed to your face, cupping your cheeks with gentle warmth, intensifying the closeness of the moment.

As the kiss continued, the touch of your lips remained gentle and unhurried. Your hands, exploring the intricate contours of his body, moved with deliberate tenderness. Secondo's response was a mirrored reflection of the unhurried passion. He let his hands linger on your face, thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your cheeks.

And then, subtle shift occurred, and the tenderness transformed into a growing intensity. The unhurried kiss between you and Secondo began to deepen, the softness giving way to a more fervent exchange.

Your hands, once gentle in their exploration, tightened their hold with a newfound urgency. They traced the lines of his body, conveying a growing desire that mirrored the intensifying kiss. Secondo responded in kind, his touch on your face evolving from a gentle caress to a more passionate hold, fingers tracing their path to the back of your neck.

His fingers brushed against the back of your neck as his other hand firmly grasped your waist. Your bodies were pressed against each other, intensifying the kiss. A subtle sound escaped your lips, blending with a sigh as Secondo's grip on your waist tightened.

Tilting his head, Secondo’s tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entrance. However, you, sensing the path the kiss could lead you both, pulled away abruptly. The fire that had been building extinguished as you put a deliberate distance between you and Secondo.

Secondo's eyes, filled with concern, locked onto yours. This time, you turned your face to the side, glancing away. Undeterred, he gently held your chin, turning it back to face him.

"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone, his lips just inches away.

"N-Nothing," you stammered, trying to hide the unease in your voice.

"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes conveyed a mix of worry and confusion.

"No..." you said, reaching for the hand on your chin, holding it in an attempt to convey reassurance. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"I just..." you started, your voice softening. "I knew where that kiss could lead, and it didn't feel right, especially considering..."

"Considering what?" Secondo inquired, his brow furrowing with confusion.

"...Considering you have a date," you replied.

Secondo’s gaze held deep emotions as he absorbed your words. “Ah, the date,” he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of ambiguity. “It’s just a date, pasticcina.”

“How come?” you inquired. “You’ve been preparing yourself for the last two days.”

He chuckled lightly, a softness in his eyes. “I need to tell you something about it."

"Look," you began, hugging your own arms around your body. "You don't have to."

"Pa—" Secondo started to protest.

You gently interjected, placing two of your fingers on his lips. "It's fine. You have your date. I was just confusing things, and we're just friends, right?" A small, reassuring smile graced your lips.

"Pasticcina..." he said against your fingers on his lips. He gently took your hand, the one that covered his lips, and brought it to his own cheek, holding it there. "Don't do it like that. Don't say things like that," his eyes pleaded with yours. "Listen to me."

You retracted your hand from his face and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "It's all fine," you whispered close to his cheek, hovering your nose near it. "I should be going now. I'm sorry for what I said at the confessional and for what I said now. I guess I just lost myself for a moment. That was a mistake."

As you uttered those words, you took a decisive step away from Secondo, moving towards the door. The weight of unspoken emotions lingered in the air, and amidst the charged atmosphere, you heard Secondo calling your name. The temptation to look back tugged at you, but you resisted. Turning back would only complicate things, and deep down, you knew you shouldn't. In the end, it all became a silent struggle between the desire to stay and the doubt if leaving was the right choice.

Lying in bed, you remained still, the passing minutes or perhaps hours slipping by unnoticed. The events of the previous night lingered in your thoughts, casting a peculiar spell over your mind. As you replayed the scene, questions swirled, and a prominent one stood out – why did he kiss you? The weight of that unanswered question settled in your mind, weaving a web of contemplation as the kiss seemed like a gesture of compassion, as if your revelation might prompt Secondo to grant you your deepest longing at that instant. However, he wouldn't behave in such a manner, not just with you, but with anyone else. This wasn't the Secondo you were familiar with.

Immersed in your contemplations, the persistent curiosity continued to tug at your thoughts. It resembled a puzzle with crucial pieces missing, each reflection spawning more unanswered questions. In an attempt to regain focus, you decided to rise, take a shower, and prepare for the day. As a member of his Clergy, your responsibilities called for attention, and dwelling on thoughts of him could no longer detain you in bed. Nevertheless, the images from the previous night lingered in your mind. A subtle but undeniable sense of change permeated your thoughts, leaving you with a perplexing feeling that the nature of this shift eluded your understanding.

Setting those lingering thoughts aside, you proceeded with your bath. Once you were done, you exited the bathroom and returned to your room to attire yourself for the day. Despite being plagued by the memory of Secondo's lingering kiss, you remained committed to fulfilling your duties, even if starting the day later than planned.

As you left your room and made your way to the cabinet, you hoped that immersing yourself in work would serve as a welcomed distraction. Your silent pleas for tranquility were directed to the Dark One as you navigated the corridors. In a way, you found yourself praying to avoid encountering Secondo, at least for the time being. Yet, it seemed the Dark One remained indifferent to your pleads.

"Deacon," Secondo's voice reached your ears as you halted in front of your door.

You took a deep breath before turning to face him. "Papa," you acknowledged.

Secondo lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, then cleared his throat. "I— Will you be attending the lunch meeting today?"

"Maybe," you replied, uncertainty lacing your words.

Secondo's eyes held a subtle intensity, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between you two from the previous night. As you exchanged glances, the atmosphere seemed to sway between hot and cold, the lingering memory of the kiss casting a shadow over you both.

"Maybe," you repeated, your response holding a hint of reservation.

"Decisions regarding the upcoming ritual need to be discussed," Secondo remarked, shifting the conversation. "Your presence is crucial in this, Deacon. The ritual details demand meticulous attention."

You nodded. "Certainly, Papa. However, I thought all the details had already been finalized."

Secondo parted his lips, seemingly about to say something, but the door to his office creaked open. A Sister of sin emerged, casting a curious glance in your direction.

"Papa," she called him, a subtle smile playing on her lips.

"Ah, sorella," Secondo acknowledged, his focus briefly shifting. "Deacon, we shall resume this discussion later," he said it, entering his office.

You retreated from the corridor, entering your cabinet as the door to Secondo's office closed behind him and the Sister of sin. The encounter left a questions in your mind, a quiet curiosity about the identity of the sister and the nature of their interaction. Could she be the date Secondo had been preparing for? The thought lingered, but you pushed it aside, realizing that this wasn't the moment to dwell on such matters.

You had a portion of work to complete before the lunch meeting, and that became your immediate focus. Whoever the Sister in Secondo's office was creeping your thoughts. To the point you had to remind yourself: you're friends, he has a date, the kiss was a mistake, merely a result of your inadvertent encouragement. This internal mantra aimed to clear the air of any unresolved tensions as you delved into your tasks.

And then, doubts lingered in the recesses of your mind. What if you were wrong? What if Secondo desired the kiss as much as you did, and your inadvertent admission gave him the courage to express his own feelings? But you pushed aside those thoughts.

But, unfortunately, nothing could entirely distract you from the thoughts about Secondo and suddenly, you found yourself standing in front of his door, clutching some papers as a feeble excuse to engage in conversation. Hesitation seized you, torn between knocking and retreating. The uncertainty loomed, as if uttering words might unravel the mystery, yet also deepen the intricate layers of your connection with Secondo.

You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. A subtle anxiety crept in, contemplating the possibility that Secondo might be deliberately ignoring you. Knocking again, the silence persisted, leaving a sense of unease. Pressing your ear against the door, you strained to catch any sound from within. Unable to resist, you pushed the door open, only to find Secondo's office empty.

Surveying the room, you found no trace of Secondo, except for his mitra on the desk and his robe hanging in its usual spot. You stepped inside, making your way towards the desk. Your fingers traced the contours of his mitra, and a silent reflection crept you. With a sigh, you carefully placed the mitra back where it belonged.

Your fingers traced over some papers on top of his desk, absentmindedly observing them. Before you could delve into their contents, his office door swung open, prompting you to swiftly redirect your attention towards him as he entered.

"Deacon?" Secondo said as he entered the room, his gaze meeting yours.

"Papa," you responded, maintaining a composed demeanor.

He approached his desk, eyeing the papers you had touched with a subtle curiosity. "Is there something you need? How is work?"

"No, not really. I was just finalizing some documents for the upcoming ritual," you explained, your tone professional as you placed the folders on his desk. "Do you have any specific preferences or changes you'd like to make?"

Secondo paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "No, proceed as planned. But, that's something we should discuss at the lunch," he added.

"Understood," you replied.

"So shall we?" Secondo inquired, his eyes holding a subtle invitation.

"Shall we... what?" you responded, a touch of confusion in your tone.

"The lunch meeting," he clarified, his gaze lingering on you. "It's almost time for it."

“Already?” you questioned, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. The realization hit you – you had been away from your cabinet since the early hours of the morning, losing track of your usual morning routine.

Turning your gaze back to him, you nodded in agreement. Secondo graciously pushed the door open for you, and you began to walk in its direction, with him following suit. As you both exited his office, Secondo closed the door behind him and gave a friendly pat on your back, signaling for you to start walking together. Following his lead, you stepped in stride with him.

"Papa," you called, turning to face him, your gaze seeking his attention.

"Hm?" he responded with a casual sound, maintaining his forward gaze.

"Are you okay?" you inquired, tilting your head.

"Sì, Deacon," he replied. "You?"

"Good," you nodded, turning your attention back to the corridor.

As you both continued walking towards the meeting place, you noticed that Secondo's hand remained on your back, providing an oddly comforting yet tense sensation. The prolonged contact sent a subtle shiver through your entire body.

"Papa," you called out once more.

"Sì?" he replied, his voice slightly raspy.

"About the ritual," you began, your tone shifting to a more serious note. "Is everything in place?"

"As far as I know, everything is in order," he reassured.

"That's good to hear," you nodded, appreciatively.

"Of course," Secondo affirmed.

"Pap—"

Secondo’s hand left your back and gripped the back of your neck. In a swift motion, he turned, pressing you against the wall. However, his other hand intercepted the impact, ensuring your head wouldn’t hit the hard surface. The unexpected closeness made your heart race as you locked eyes with him.

"Stop," Secondo's voice held a seriousness that caught you off guard. "Stop treating me like the others," he furrowed his brows. "You're not like that."

"But, we are in public, and normally I call you—"

Secondo interjected, leaning closer, his hand finding the wall right next to your head. "There is no one around us."

"Does it matter?" you retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the closeness. "We have roles to play, Secondo. We are just keeping up with our roles."

His gaze lingered on yours, holding frustration and something deeper. "Our roles?" he scoffed. "We're not puppets, and this... pretending is driving me insane."

"You? Insane?" you challenged, your voice almost a whisper. "What are you trying to say, Secondo?"

He pulled back slightly, but his eyes remained locked onto yours. "I'm saying that..."

Before Secondo could say it, the distant sound of footsteps reached both of you, echoing through the corridor. Secondo swiftly pulled back, his expression unreadable. A shadowy figure approached the scene. It was a Sibling of Sin, their presence injecting an element of formality into the atmosphere. Secondo straightened himself, adopting a more composed demeanor.

The Sibling passed through, offering a polite nod to both of you. As she disappeared down the corridor, Secondo took a moment to compose himself. He resumed his walk to the lunch meeting, and you followed suit. An uneasy silence settled between the two of you, and perhaps for the first time, his silence weighed heavily on you.

Upon reaching the lunch meeting place, Secondo paused at the entrance. Sensing something amiss, you moved closer and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Secondo, are you okay?” you asked, concern etched on your face.

He cast a quick, vulnerable glance at you. "I—," he sighed and shifted his gaze to meet yours. "Did I mess everything up?"

"What are you talking about?" you inquired, your hand moving from his shoulder to gently cup his cheek.

Secondo took a deep breath, his eyes holding hesitation and longing. "About last night..." he began.

"What about it?" you asked, searching his eyes for clues.

"The kiss," he said, almost in a whisper. "Was it a mistake?"

Your heart fluttered, but you held back your true feelings. "Everything is okay, Secondo," you replied, offering a reassuring smile. "No need to worry about it."

Secondo's eyes lingered on yours, a silent plea hidden within them. "Deacon," he started.

Your heart raced at the intensity of his gaze. "Y-yes?" you inquired, your voice slightly shaky.

“I need to know,” Secondo began cautiously, “Was the kiss a mistake?”

“It wasn’t a mistake,” you admitted, “but it was just a moment, right?”

He looked away for a moment, grappling with his own thoughts. “I don’t want to complicate things,” he said.

You reached out and embraced Secondo. “It doesn’t have to complicate anything,” you whispered. “We’re still friends. Don’t worry.”

He hesitated for a moment, then his arms circled around you in return, holding you closer. Secondo pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your shoulders. “I just don’t want to lose what we have, pasticcina.”

You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his. “You won’t,” you assured him. “Now, let’s go in for the lunch meeting, and we can talk about that later."

"No," he softly uttered, releasing your shoulders. "Deacon, we need to talk now."

"I'm listening," you replied, grabbing one of his hands.

But before he could say anything, the door of the meeting room where the lunch was happening opened, prompting you to release his hand. Turning your head, you looked at the ritualist who stood there in front of you, while Secondo's attention was solely fixed on the fact that you had left his hand. His gaze was locked on his hand without yours, seemingly indifferent to the presence of the ritualist.

"Papa!" he exclaimed, relief in his voice. "I was about to go find you," he said turning his eyes to you. "And I can see the Deacon will grace us with their presence today."

You nodded in acknowledgment with a polite smile. Secondo, however, maintained a stoic expression. The ritualist gestured toward the open door, signaling for you both to enter the meeting room. Secondo finally moved and entered, and you followed suit, stepping inside after him. As the ritualist closed the door and returned to his seat, Secondo turned to you, lowering his head closer to yours.

"We will talk later," he whispered, his words brushing close to your ear.

As he pulled away, you couldn't help but feel the lingering anticipation of a conversation yet to unfold. You looked at him, nodding slowly. Secondo shot you a small grin and moved towards the main chair. Taking a deep breath, you walked to your chair as well, settling in among the other members of the clergy.

As the lunch meeting unfolded, you found yourself engrossed in discussions about the upcoming ritual. The atmosphere was tense, with various opinions being exchanged. Despite the serious nature of the conversation, your eyes kept drifting to Secondo, who was seated across the room. You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you as well. Every time your eyes met, a subtle tension hung in the air, creating a silent dialogue that seemed to transcend the confines of the meeting room.

As the meeting concluded, Clergy members began rising from their seats, making their way towards the exit. You and Secondo followed suit, standing up to leave the room. Together, you walked back together towards your offices. Even in the short distance, you could feel the electrifying tension between you two. His hand brushed against yours a few times, sending a rush of warmth through your body, yet he didn't hold it. Instead, his pinky finger subtly grazed yours, a playful and intimate touch that made you blush.

Secondo's gaze swept over the surroundings, his hand gripping yours gently with interwoven fingers. "Are you too busy this afternoon?" he inquired, his voice lowered.

You turned to meet his gaze and shook your head in the negative.

"Molto bene," he nodded once. "So, would you come with me to my office, sì?"

"Y-yes..." you stammered, a lingering blush on your cheeks, and a newfound layer of shyness stemming from the gentle hold of his hand. "But why?"

"Because we need to talk," he replied.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, anxiety momentarily overshadowing the lingering shyness. You took a deep breath. "O-Of course."

He hummed in contentment, his lips curving into a grin as you continued walking to his office, hands still entwined. The sensation was almost overwhelming for you; feeling him this way was different. Though you had held hands before, this time it carried a distinct and unfamiliar weight. It felt different—you felt different.

Yet, this did little to soothe your nerves. Whatever he wanted to discuss was causing a ripple of worry within you. Today, Secondo seemed different—somewhat distant and cold, while also exuding a combination of incisiveness and sentimentality. However, beneath these conflicting emotions, there lingered a sense that he was grappling with something, something elusive that you couldn't quite decipher. The ambiguity might be attributed to his usual reserved demeanor or the enigmatic face paint that adeptly concealed his emotions when left unspoken.

Upon reaching his office, Secondo maintained his grip on your hand, and you could sense a subtle tightening as he reached for the doorknob. Deliberately turning it, he took a deep breath that caused his shoulders to rise. As the door swung open, he swiftly released your hand and stood motionless in front of the entrance. Intrigued, you took a step closer, realizing Terzo was inside the office.

Terzo turned his head towards the door, glancing at Secondo before directing a warm smile your way. "Secondo," he started, turning his gaze back to him. "I apologize for not waiting, but a sibling informed me you were in a lunch meeting, so I assumed it wouldn't be a problem to come in."

Secondo chuckled lightly. "Nessun problema, Terzo," he replied, making his way into the office. "Cosa ti porta qui?"

"Solo alcune questioni da discutere e..." he paused, shifting his gaze in your direction. "Are you busy, fratello? I can come back later if you and Deacon were in the middle of something important."

Secondo glanced over his shoulder, and you responded with a gentle smile. "We..." He turned his body towards you, bringing the office door with him and briefly closing it behind him.

"We can talk later, don't worry," you reassured him in a soft tone as your eyes connected with his.

Secondo nodded, bringing his body closer to yours. His gaze alternated between your eyes and your lips, creating a subtle tension in the air. He took a deep breath, and you instinctively held yours, creating a moment of profound silence as you faced each other. His hand, having left the doorknob, gently cupped your cheek. In a tender gesture, he caressed your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of the gesture lingering for what felt like an eternity.

Secondo withdrew his hand gently off your cheek, leaving you with a subtle shiver and a lingering yearning for the warmth of his touch. His gaze held yours, as if concealing untold sentiments, prompting you to tilt your head in curiosity. Secondo chuckled softly, shaking his head, and you responded with a gentle nod while gesturing towards the door. A sigh and a playful eye roll from him made you giggle silently, relishing the special way you both communicated without words.

His hand returned to the doorknob, and he slowly pushed the door open, walking backward into the room without breaking eye contact. Once inside, you bid him a little wave, and with a final glance, he closed the door.

You finally released the breath you were holding, closing your eyes for a moment as a smile painted your face. It was undeniably something new, a novel feeling, but this wasn't the moment for deep contemplation. Composing yourself, you opened your eyes and headed towards the door of your cabinet, conveniently located next to his office. With a swift motion, you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you.

As you entered your cabinet, you realized that waiting for Secondo to finish whatever he was doing with Terzo would stretch the afternoon into seemingly endless hours of pure boredom. With everything settled for the ritual, your workload was minimal, and the waiting game became an exercise in patience.

The minutes dragged on, and you found yourself organizing your cabinet, rearranging things as a distraction from the persistent anticipation. However, the waiting made concentration difficult. Your thoughts kept circling back to what Secondo wanted to discuss, creating a feeling of uncertainty that hung heavily in the quiet space.

In an attempt to quell the restlessness, you picked up a few documents, but your mind struggled to focus. The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual, each passing second amplifying the sense of anticipation and making the afternoon feel interminable. The hours ahead stretched before you, laden with the weight of waiting.

After pacing back and forth in your cabinet for a while, you returned to your desk, sinking into your chair with a sigh. However, before you could settle in, a distinct knock echoed through your door. You turned your head towards it, recognizing it as his unmistakable pattern.

Swiftly getting up from your chair, you made your way to the door connecting your cabinet to his office. With a smooth motion, you opened it, revealing him on the other side.

"Hi," you greeted as your eyes locked.

Secondo casually lifted an arm, supporting it on the doorframe, leaning slightly in your direction. "Hi," he replied, his gaze focused on you.

The closeness of his presence prompted a subtle blush, but you composed yourself, taking a deep breath. "Was everything okay with Terzo?" you asked.

"Sì," he nodded. "Niente di importante." His gaze held yours, a moment of silent understanding passing between you. Secondo straightened, pushing off the doorframe, and took a step closer. "Can we continue our talk?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of seriousness and something you couldn't quite decipher.

You nodded. "Of course, Secondo. Let's talk."

As you gestured for him to enter your cabinet, he caught your wrist, leading you into his office. With his free hand, he closed the door behind you.

"Deacon," he said, however, before he could begin, a distinct knock echoed through the room. Secondo tried to ignore it, intending to continue the conversation, but another knock interrupted once again. "Not again," an exasperated sigh escaped Secondo. "Come with me, let them knock," he took you by the hand, steering you towards the archive room of his office.

“What are we doing here? We could have stayed at the office, whoever it was wouldn't come in,” your grip on his hand got firm. “I can smell the dust from this place,” you chuckled as he closed the door.

"I've been lying to you," he confessed, his words tumbling out rapidly.

Your eyes widened in surprise and nervousness. "Huh? What? What do you mean?" you inquired, the anxiety evident in your voice. "What are you saying? Lying to me? Since when? About what?"

"Let me explain," he sighed. "I've been lying to you because there was no date, no one else. It was just an excuse."

You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? An excuse for what?"

He sighed, his grip on your hand tightening. "I wanted to ask you out. I wanted to take you on a date, but I didn't know how to do it without making things awkward. So, I said I had a date because I got nervous. I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship or make you uncomfortable, I also couldn't bear the thought of you saying 'no'."

"That's quite a revelation," your voice dropped to a hushed tone, your eyes widening in understanding. "So, all those 'practice' sessions were just a pretext?"

Secondo nodded solemnly. "I apologize. I know it's selfish, but I couldn't bear the thought of hearing you reject me. The pain would be greater than finding myself in heaven instead of hell."

"Secondo, your honesty means a lot to me," you said in a low tone. "But, I'm confused. Why didn't you just ask?"

He paused before responding. "I was afraid it would change everything between us, and I didn't want to risk losing you. I thought this approach would give me a chance to muster the courage to speak up, but it didn't until now, or yesterday. The fact that I have kissed you the way I did, and hearing you calling it as a 'mistake' made feel like if I had ruined everything. When deep down... All I wanted was you to see a different side of me, to understand me better, and maybe... I don't know... see me? Admitting it now makes me feel foolish."

"Don't say that," you took a deep breath. "Secondo, you should have just asked me. You're not going to lose me, and you don't need excuses. I'm sorry for calling the kiss a mistake, but I thought it was based on the fact that you had a 'date' and I was trying to ignore the fact that I wanted that, that I wanted to kiss you, but I was telling myself how wrong it was to want you. But if you asked me on a date before, I would have said 'yes'."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You mean all of that?"

"Yes," you said, your smile tender. "Well, initially, I'd might be a bit shocked, perhaps a little surprised if you called me on a date. I'd probably even think you were just being funny," you giggled, placing a gentle hand on his chest and caressing it. "But, without a doubt, I would have said 'yes' because spending time with you is always good."

Secondo's gaze softened, and he gently placed his hand on top of yours. "Forgive me for being selfish," he said with sincerity.

A warm smile graced your lips. "Consider it forgiven."

Secondo's eyes searched yours, uncertainty reflecting in his gaze. "So, you'd go on a date with me?" he inquired, his gaze earnest.

With a playful smile, you reached up, gently cupping his face, and leaned in, pressing a tender kiss onto his lips. As you pulled away from the kiss, a soft chuckle escaped you. "Well, I guess that answers your question, Secondo," you teased. "But only if you promise to not practice with me anymore."

He laughed. "Bene. No more practice, just real ones with you."

You nodded, and as the distance between you and Secondo closed, your lips found each other in a tender and sweet kiss. His hand, which had been holding yours, traced a path from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you closer. Simultaneously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the warmth motion of his lips against yours.

The kiss unfolded in a slow and sweet rhythm, both of you cherishing the tenderness of the moment. As your arms enveloped each other, you could sense Secondo's faint smile against your lips. His hand left the small of your back and moved to your face, cupping it gently as he intensified the kiss. Feeling the warmth of his touch, you tilted your head, inviting him to deepen the connection. However, just as the intensity peaked, he pulled back abruptly and sneezed.

Your expression shifted from a dazed look to a bemused one as you realized the abrupt interruption. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you raised an amused eyebrow.

"Apologies," he managed to say between sneezes, the unexpected reaction making him chuckle heartily. "I guess I've made a wrong choice of place."

You chuckled in response. "Better for us to get out of here then," you said.

"Before we leave," he looked into your eyes, with seriousness and anticipation in his gaze. "I..." he began, causing you to tilt your head, curious about what was on his mind.

"You...?"

Secondo took a deep breath, and the words spilled out, "Would you allow me to take you on a proper date tonight?" A smile played on Secondo's lips, his eyes searching yours for a response.

You felt a flutter in your chest and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth. "I would be delighted," you replied, your voice carrying a light teasing tone. "A proper date sounds like a wonderful idea."

Secondo's features softened, and he nodded appreciatively. The depths of his mismatched eyes held your attention. As Secondo leaned in, drawing closer to your face, you closed your eyes, feeling the anticipation build. However, just as you expected the connection to intensify, Secondo paused, pulling back abruptly to sneeze once again.

A laugh bubbled up from within you at the unexpected sneeze, and Secondo raised a questioning brow. He quickly shook his head, placing a finger to his lips in a playful hush. Without missing a beat, he reached for your hand, guiding you out of the archive room.

As you exited the archive room, returning to his office, Secondo gently pulled you closer and pressed a kiss onto the back of your hand, his thumb caressing the spot tenderly. "Can I pick you up at your room later?"

You nodded, a hint of timidity in your response.

Secondo grinned, pressing another kiss onto the back of your hand. He then placed your hand against his cheek, holding it there, cupping your hand with his. "I look forward to it," he replied with a soft smile, his gaze fixed on yours. Secondo's hand lingered, his fingers gently entwining with yours.

"You enjoy making me wait, don't you?" You teased retracting your hand from his face, slowly. "I'll see you later then."

As you turned to leave, Secondo gently caught your hand, pulling you back with a playful smile. "Only a little. Builds anticipation, sì?"

"I guess I'll have to endure the suspense then," you sighed with a touch of dramatic flair.

Secondo chuckled, gracefully letting go of your hand. "But wait, there's one more thing,"

Your curiosity piqued, you inquired, "What is it?"

Secondo cradled your face delicately with both hands, his touch tender, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips. As he pulled away, a gentle kiss landed on your forehead, and he looked down at you. "This is good."

"What is good?" you murmured.

"Le tue labbra," he replied, closing his eyes and leaning in for another tender kiss, capturing your lips in a moment of warmth.

The initial kiss was slow, gentle, and sweet, as if savoring the taste of a forbidden fruit. It left a lingering sensation of ecstasy. Every touch of the lips sent shivers through both of you, creating an undeniable need for more. Both of you surrendered to that desire, and the kiss intensified, the connection growing deeper.

Secondo's hands, which initially cradled your face, now traced a path down your back, pulling you closer. The tender exploration of lips became more fervent, a dance of passion and longing. His lips moved with deliberate precision, molding against yours as if searching for a perfect fit.

His hands, warm and reassuring, traced gentle paths along your body, creating a sensory map of desire. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, Secondo led you to his desk, leaning you against it with a controlled urgency. The kiss became a deeper exploration, his lips demanded more, conveying a hunger that echoed in the shared breaths and mingling sighs.

As the kiss intensified, your bodies pressed together, Secondo's hands explored the curves of your body, his touch gentle yet possessive. You pressed your body even closer to his, a silent invitation for more. Subtly, you spread your legs, granting him more space, and Secondo wasted no time. Almost instantly, he adjusted his position, aligning himself with the new angle.

His hands, now exploring the contours of your thighs, pulled your hips against his, placing your legs around his hips. The sudden shift made you arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips, as you felt his hardness pressing against the warmth between your legs.

The passion heightened and you found yourself instinctively grinding against him, a subtle and spontaneous movement that drew a low groan from Secondo. The sound reverberated through the room causing you to press your legs around his hips firmly.

Feeling the vibration of your response, Secondo gently pulled away from the kiss, both breathless and dazed. His hands, which had been on your thighs, now migrated to your face. He tilted it, giving him enough space to press a series of wet kisses onto your neck.

The wet warmth of his kisses left a trail of sensations, causing a shiver to run down your spine. However, you gently pressed your hands against his chest, guiding him away from your neck. Secondo gazed at you with a perplexed expression, prompting a chuckle from you. Closing the distance, you bestowed a tender peck on his lips, causing him to briefly close his eyes.

"If you keep going, our planned date might not happen," you whispered against his lips.

Secondo groaned in frustration. "And why is that?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours.

"Because you're jumping straight to how I want the end of our date to be," you replied, biting your lower lip and trailing your hands down to his belly.

Secondo, with a tender smile, continued. "Now I can't wait for the later part of our date then."

You couldn't help but return his smile, "Well, if you manage to behave yourself now, I might just consider it."

He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Behave?" He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "I'll be the epitome of good behavior, just for you."

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. Secondo chuckled, withdrawing his hands from your face and guiding them back to your thighs, where he began to gently caress. His touch lingered for a while before he took a step back, allowing both of you ample space to recompose.

"At what hour should I pick you up?" Secondo asked, scratching the back of his head.

You paused, considering his question. "I don't have any more work today. Nothing urgent. If there's anything left for the ritual, I believe I've already provided it, and everything should be ready, right?"

Secondo let out a sigh, his eyes holding yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to review some documents Terzo left for me."

"Oh," you responded with a nod, making your way to his direction. "Certainly, what are you looking for?"

"I'd like you to carefully go through these papers, verify the information, and if any changes or corrections are needed, you know the routine, sì?" he explained, handing you the documents from his table.

"Absolutely, Secondo," you assured him, taking the papers. "I'll get on it right away. Since I have some work to do, I'll head back to my cabinet to focus on this task."

He reached for your waist, his thumb gently caressing it in small circles. "I have full confidence in your abilities, but you just have to give it a look and see if everything is in order," he stood up, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Now, any preferences for our evening plans?"

You pretended to ponder for a moment. "Hmm, surprise me. Just keep it interesting, and I'm all in."

Secondo nodded, and as you leaned in for a sweet moment, he did the same, resulting in a clumsy meeting of lips at the midpoint, sharing a gentle kiss at the corners of each other's mouths. Pulling back, you chuckled at the minor mishap, noticing Secondo furrowing his brows in annoyance. To prevent a repeat, Secondo cradled your head with both hands, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

With that, you tilted your head towards him, subtly hinting at the desire for a more substantial kiss, and perhaps you were. Yet, Secondo didn't succumb to your charm. Instead, he gently held your chin and planted a delicate kiss on your lips, almost as if it were a feather-light caress.

You gazed at him, a mix of frustration and pleading in your eyes, your lips forming an almost pout. Secondo chuckled and shook his head. "As you mentioned earlier, we can't skip to the end of the date. Trust me, I'm just as eager to kiss you more. I've waited a long time for this," he admitted with a hint of longing.

"Have you?" you teased, biting your lower lip and looking at him with a mischievous glint. "How long?" you inquired in a hushed tone, leaning in. However, before you could bridge the gap, Secondo interrupted you by gently placing a finger on your lips. "Sec—!"

Before you could finish, he silenced you with a lingering kiss, interrupting your words. You smiled with his lips pressed against yours, taking a deep breath as he slowly pulled back. You maintained your smile as his eyes met yours. Secondo hummed in contentment, though a hint in his eyes betrayed the restraint he exercised in not kissing you again as passionately as before. You, too, desired it, especially considering the consequences of that kiss, consequences you weren't sure you were ready to face.

Recognizing the temptation he exuded, you wondered if it was influenced by the power he held as the highest satanic figure in the ministry. It wouldn't be surprising, given his proximity to the Dark Lord. However, there were still tasks to attend to before the date.

Exiting his office, you gave him a wave, and his eyes lingered on you until you reached your cabinet, closing the door behind you. Moving directly to your desk, you neatly placed the papers on it, straightening your posture before settling into your chair.

As you delved into the papers, the initial set seemed routine—standard proceedings of the ministry that required Secondo's signature. Everything appeared to be in order, so you moved on to the next document. However, the tone shifted when you encountered one discussing retirement. Your focus intensified as the words unfolded a revelation: Secondo was to be replaced by his younger brother, Terzo.

A sense of disbelief settled in as you retraced your steps to the first set of papers, realizing they were meant for the new leader, not Secondo. Continuing to read, the details painted a picture of a succession plan. After the upcoming ritual, Secondo was expected to prepare himself for the transition, handing over the reins to Terzo. The emotions intensified—shock, disbelief, and a growing sense of unease. You grappled with the unspoken truth that your moments with Secondo were poised on the edge of a significant change, a change he had kept concealed.

The documents unfolded like chapters in an unexpected narrative, each revelation carrying a weight that settled heavily on your shoulders. The impending succession, the shift in leadership, and the unspoken truths left you in a whirlwind of emotions. As you continued to read, the words became more than ink on paper—they became the unraveling of a reality you hadn't anticipated. The emotions surged, astonishment, apprehension, and an underlying sense of loss.

As you absorbed the weight of the revelations, indignation surged through you. How could Secondo have given you those papers without a single word of explanation? The sense of betrayal fueled your urgency, and you sprang from your chair, marching toward his office with a storm of emotions brewing within you.

The door swung open forcefully, a loud bang echoing in the room, but to your dismay, all that greeted you was an empty chair. Secondo was nowhere to be found. Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, attempting to rein in the frustration and confusion that threatened to overwhelm you. You felt the urge to confront him, to demand an explanation for this clandestine revelation, but reason prevailed. He was cunning, slipping away before you could confront him. However, you knew where to find him – soon enough, he would be in your room.

Resolute, you made your way to the main door of his office, pushing it open and stepping out, leaving behind the empty space. The corridors of the ministry felt like an intricate maze as you navigated through them, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts about Secondo's impending retirement. The prospect of not seeing him with the same frequency, the shift in your role as his brother's Deacon, and the nagging question of why he hadn't shared this crucial information occupied your mind. Each step seemed to echo your internal turmoil, and as you approached your room, the heaviness in your heart became more pronounced.

Entering the room, you stripped away your clothes, preparing for a bath to ease the tension that had coiled within you. Submerged in the water, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, letting silent sobs meld with the sound of rushing water.

Emerging from the bath, you draped a towel around your body and returned to the room, contemplating the choice of your outfit. The question lingered—did it really matter how you dressed now? Nevertheless, you selected your clothes, arranging them on the bed. Suddenly, a knock on the door echoed inside your room, and you took a deep breath, focusing on maintaining appearances as you made your way towards it.

As you opened the door, there he stood, having changed his clothes already. The familiar scent of his cologne, intensified now, filled the air. The notes of the perfume, a strong blend of cedarwood and musk, lingered, creating an almost palpable atmosphere. He held a small bouquet of tulips in his hand. Though the bouquet consisted of just four tulips, the gesture felt both delicate and meaningful. The scent of the tulips added a layer of floral sweetness, momentarily distracting you from the turmoil within.

"Would it be better if I return later? I assumed you'd be ready by now," he questioned.

You took a steadying breath, trying to conceal the emotional turbulence as you faced Secondo at the doorway. "No, it's fine," you replied, managing a composed tone. "I was just deciding what to wear."

His grip on the bouquet tightened, betraying an underlying tension that mirrored the unspoken complexities of the situation. "Should I wait outside?" he offered, his eyes reflecting the uncertainty.

Shaking your head, your gaze pierced onto his. "No," your voice emerged slightly raspy. "Come in," you said, stepping away to grant him passage.

He entered your room, and a palpable air of unease enveloped the space. He cautiously closed the door behind him, and you turned away, pretending to focus on selecting an outfit from your wardrobe, although you had already placed the chosen outfit on your bed. The clothes blurred in front of you as you grappled with the turmoil within.

Placing the tulips delicately on the bedside table, Secondo's eyes lingered on the carefully chosen clothes you had laid out. With a subtle smile, he made his way towards you. "I know you've read the papers."

You turned to face him, your eyes revealing a tumult of emotions. "Why didn't you tell me, Secondo?"

He sighed, shoulders sagging as if relieved. "I wanted to, but I couldn't find the right time or the right words. I didn't want to burden you."

Anger, hurt, and confusion battled within you. "So, you thought giving me the papers without a word was the solution?"

He reached for your hand. "No, it wasn't the right way. I should have told you, but I couldn't find a way to."

Inhaling deeply, you briefly covered your face with your hands. "Secondo, please, just be honest with me. What's going on? First, the lies about your date, and now you're keeping things from me. What's really happening?" You implored, uncovering your face as your hands fell away. "We've been friends for a long time, and this isn't like you. Just," you sighed, "tell me what's going on with you."

Secondo met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to keep anything from you,” he confessed. “It’s just… there are changes, and I wanted to handle them before burdening you with it. But you deserve honesty, and I owe you an explanation.”

You nodded.

"On the day of the lunch meeting, days ago, certain members of the Clergy made a private decision regarding my retirement from the position of Papa Emeritus. I assumed you were unaware, and I thought it best to keep it that way," he began with a heavy sigh. "Later, Terzo confronted me, questioning when I would muster the courage to confess my feelings for you. He believed that simply having you by my side every day would be enough, rather than openly expressing my emotions. This situation compelled me to make a decision, leading to the idea of asking you on a date. However, as you're well aware, it didn't exactly go as planned."

"Okay, I can understand that, but why didn't you tell me about your retirement?" you pressed.

"I was afraid it would make no difference at all, that you wouldn't care about who comes and goes. After all, it's just work, sì?" Secondo responded. "And if you did care, I was afraid of what that could possibly mean."

"No, it's not just work, Secondo. It's you!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling. "Of course, it makes a difference. You're not just a colleague; you're my friend, the person I cherish the most in this Ministry. And now, you are... someone I... I'm seeing as more than just a friend."

Secondo stepped closer, his eyes searching yours with a soft intensity. "Pasticcina," he began gently, "I should have been more transparent with you. I didn't want to burden you with the weight of it, but I see now that I made a mistake."

You met his gaze, emotions flickering in your eyes. "It's not just about work for me, Secondo. You're not just a passing presence."

He reached out, cupping your cheek tenderly. "You mean a lot to me too," he confessed, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "And it terrifies me to think that my decisions could jeopardize what we share."

"We share so much, and this is a significant part of your life," you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand offering solace. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to share this with me sooner."

"I know, pasticcina. I should have," he admitted, his gaze filled with regret. "I see now that it was a mistake. I was foolish to think it wouldn't matter to you."

"It matters, Secondo. You matter," with a fragile smile, you whispered, "I don't want to lose you, Secondo. Not as a friend, not as... something more."

He sighed, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "You won't lose me. I may be retiring from this position, but I'm not going anywhere, especially not from your life."

You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt firmly. "I care about you, Secondo. More than I've allowed myself to admit. You mean more to me than I let myself acknowledge."

Secondo pulled back slightly, holding you at arm's length. "You are important to me, more than you realize."

"When did you find out about Terzo assuming the role of Papa Emeritus?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice.

"I always knew," Secondo confessed, his hands sliding to yours, gently holding them. "It's like we all have an expiration date," he added, a wistful smile gracing his lips. Your chuckle echoed in the air, and he responded with a tender smile. "There you go... That's how I like to see you, con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso."

You sighed heavily, pulling him back to you and guiding his hands to your back. Obediently, Secondo wrapped his arms around you, and you nuzzled your face onto his chest. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to the scent of his cologne, letting it envelop your senses.

"Mi dispiace," he uttered. "I promise I won't hide anything from you again."

"I knew that you'd retire from your role as Papa Emeritus at some point, Secondo. After all, I'm part of the Clergy," you whispered, your face pressed against his chest. "I just didn't expect it to be this soon, or that it would hurt me so much to see you go."

"Mi dispiace..." he whispered in a very low tone, almost inaudible.

"It's fine," you turned your face to him. "I understand you didn't do it to hurt me or anything like that. I know you well enough to understand why you made those decisions. But I also want you to know that you don't have to hide anything from me. You never had to," you said with a sweet smile on your face as you gently pulled away from the embrace. "But we have a date, right? Well, we've already had a couple of them, but today is an official one. So let's focus on us tonight, and tomorrow morning we can go back to being Papa Emeritus and Deacon."

"You're right, pasticcina," he acknowledged with a nod. "Tonight, let's concentrate solely on us and nothing else." Taking one of your hands, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of it. "Are you going to get dressed now?"

"Hm?" you looked down, noticing you were still wrapped in a towel. "Oh! Yes!" you chuckled, heading towards the bed.

Secondo tracked your movements, approaching you. "Are you planning to wear those?"

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding as you gathered the clothes from the bed. "But, why? Why do you ask?" A touch of nervousness tinged your inquiry. "Is there an issue?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "You'll look stunning in those, and I can't wait to see it."

"Secondo..." you said, turning to him with a shy smile.

The room fell into a hushed silence, and neither of you uttered a word. As you both stood there, locked in a silent exchange, Secondo moved decisively. Swiftly, he grabbed your wrist, drawing you closer to him. Your body collided against his, and in an unexpected turn, his lips fervently met yours. With widened eyes, you observed the shift from initial intensity to a more tender expression, his hands finding their way to your waist.

Secondo's hands held you firmly, conveying a sense of security as you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and you surrendered to the dance of tongues as his traced the contours of your lips. Your response was instinctive, parting your lips to welcome him. His scent enveloped you, the warmth of his body against yours intensified the moment. His lips moved with practiced finesse, and the soft dance of his skilled tongue on yours cast a spell, leaving you under its bewitching allure.

The warmth of his body enveloped you, and the moment intensified as he continued to explore you with his hands. His touch, both firm and gentle, sent shivers down your spine as he traced intricate patterns on your back. Breaths mingled, sighs of surrender punctuated the air. His lips brushed yours, a delicate dance that evolved into passionate bites.

Your arms gracefully left his neck, and your hands descended to his chest, gently caressing it. As your fingers traced patterns, you felt the exposed part of his chest beneath your touch, as if he remembered what you had told him. A silent chuckle escaped you amidst the entwined kiss, one hand now delicately resting on the exposed skin.

Secondo gently withdrew from the kiss, creating a subtle distance while keeping his face intimately close to yours, his lips lingering in a tantalizing proximity. "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing," you chuckled, "I just can't help but find it amusing how you manage to be both charming and a tease all at once," your fingers trailed lightly along the contours of his chest as you replied. “At least I find your teasing quite delightful, Secondo.”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “Delightful, sì?” His lips grazed yours with a tantalizing touch.

You playfully bit your lower lip. “Very.”

His breath hitched, and he murmured, “Is it fine to keep going?”

With a seductive smirk, you asked, “Is it fine to lose the date plans?”

Secondo’s eyes gleamed with desire. “Plans can be changed,” he confessed, his voice low and provocative. “We’ve had our dates, even if they weren’t official. I believe it’s time to skip to the part where we honor our Dark Lord.”

"I guess it is," a mischievous glint mirrored in your eyes as you agreed.

Secondo executed a swift turn, guiding you toward the bed, causing you to walk backward until the plush mattress greeted your calves. Secondo’s hand skillfully lifted your leg, and his other hand moved to the back of your head. In one fluid motion, he laid you down on the bed. As you looked at him standing before you, a hint of desire lingering in the air, you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip in anticipation. His gaze smoldering with intensity. He looked down at you, a commanding presence that sent shivers down your spine.

"What do we have here?" he purred, his voice low and demanding.

You met his gaze, your eyes filled with desire. "Just a willing Deacon, Secondo," you replied, a playful edge to your tone. Lifting one leg, you placed it on his thigh, delicately caressing it with your foot.

He crawled on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours. "Willing, you say?" His hand traced a path along your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through you.

You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping. "Very willing."

A wicked grin played on Secondo's lips as he asserted, "Bene. Because tonight, you're mine," his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory glint. "Confess your sins to your Papa, what do you desire most in this moment?"

Your heart raced as you met his gaze, a surge of arousal coursing through you. "I desire you, Secondo," you confessed, your voice laced with longing.

He grinned, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern on your skin. "That's what I like to hear, "his hands explored your body with confident precision, leaving no inch untouched. "I want you to say it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you teased, “Say what, Secondo?”

His eyes darkened with desire. “Say you’re mine.”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you nodded in agreement. "Yours, Secondo."

As you spoke, a devilish grin spread across Secondo's face. With a swift movement, his hand reached your face, closing the remaining gap between you two. In an unspoken agreement, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.

Inhaling deeply, your hands found their way to the back of his head, pressing his lips more firmly against yours as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Secondo lowered his body, creating an intimate connection as the warmth of his form pressed against yours, enveloping you in a heat embrace.

A blaze seemed to ignite within you as the heat of his body melded with yours, prompting you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. Your hands traced over his back, fingers dancing along the contours of his muscles, exploring every inch of him in a fervent exploration.

Secondo's tongue delicately probed your lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips slightly, granting him access to explore the depths of your mouth. The kiss intensified as he navigated every corner with his tongue. His arms ventured down, enveloping you and keeping you pressed against his firm chest. You could feel a growing bulge pressed against your stomach, sending a thrilling sensation coursing through your body.

A wave of pleasure surged through you as his tongue entwined with yours, eliciting a soft moan. The kiss deepened, reflecting the growing intensity of his desire. In response, you moved your hips against him, prompting a low groan to escape from him. He reached for your hips, pulling you firmly against him, now guiding the rhythm as he moved in tandem with your body. Your hands descended, gripping his firm backside, pulling him even closer to you. Slowly and deliberately, you parted your legs, inviting him to settle himself between them.

Complying with your desire, Secondo pressed himself more firmly between your legs, grinding his hardness against you.The increased pressure caused you to arch your back and neck, breaking the kiss as a soft moan escaped your lips. Sensations of arousal and heightened sensitivity coursed through your body.

Secondo trailed his nose and lips along your neck until he reached your lips. He pressed a lingering kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, pulling it in a soft bite before releasing it. When you turned your eyes to him, you found him grinning devilishly.

"I want you," you murmured, your voice low and husky.

He nodded, a gaze filled with desire in his eyes as his hand reached for the towel that somehow still clung to you. Casting a silent question in his look, you gave a nod in approval. Without hesitation, Secondo swiftly removed the towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.

The towel fell to the floor as Secondo positioned himself on his knees between your legs. His eyes traced every curve of your body while his hands followed the same path. Completely focused on your form, Secondo's firm touch left you melting beneath him. His hands journeyed from your chest to your belly before reaching down to caress both legs simultaneously, prompting you to part them even further. His gaze was enchanted by the unfolding view, causing him to bite his lower lip in an effort to stifle a groan.

You settled your legs on his thighs, sitting in front of him on the bed. Your face moved to his neck, planting kisses while your hands worked to unbutton his shirt. His hands guided you to his lap, bringing your bodies intimately together. Sensing his hardness pressed against you, you couldn’t resist the temptation to grind against it. The friction heightened, and you felt the heat intensify between your legs.

"Pasticcina..." he moaned, closing his eyes, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

The intensity of your kisses on his neck increased, each tender caress leaving a trail of lust. His breath hitched with the rising passion, and you could feel the vibrations in his throat as he hummed in response to the sensations you were creating. You brushed your lips along his neck, tracing a delicate path until you reached his ear, where you nibbled on the lobe with a gentle tease. The tension in his body palpable as he groaned in pleasure. Pulling you closer, he pressed his hardness against you, his breath growing labored as he fought to maintain control. Swiftly, as you moved your head back to continue the kisses on the other side of his neck, he took charge, laying you down on the bed and positioning himself on top of you, restraining your hands above your head.

Your eyes lingered on his body, tracing the contours of his muscular form. The sight of his physique, with a hint of a belly, didn't fail to stir desire within you. His chest, firm and adorned with chest hair that connected to the belly, drew your attention until it disappeared beneath his pants. The raw masculinity of his physique fueled the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't help but moan softly. The sight made you try to move your hands to touch him, only to remember he was holding them together. You turned your eyes to stare at him, and Secondo had a playful smile on his lips.

"What's funny?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your tone.

"Your face," he chuckled.

"Excuse me?" you demanded, attempting to free your hands from his grip.

Secondo lowered his face, closing the distance between your lips. "Your face," he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. "It's almost entirely painted in black," he continued whispering. "Because of my neck..." he licked your lips, coaxing you to part them slightly, giving him the space to slide his tongue into your mouth, kissing you passionately.

As Secondo released your hands, he shifted his focus, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, his warm lips exploring every inch of your skin. His journey continued down your chest, leaving a trail of desire until he reached your belly. Without hesitation, he ventured lower, between your legs, his strong hands spreading them gently. Secondo's touch explored the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The gentle yet firm caresses heightened the anticipation, and you could sense his warm breath against your skin as he inched closer to your wetness.

His eyes locked with yours, filled with a potent mix of desire and determination. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice raspy with need. "I need to taste you," he declared, his lips beginning to explore your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he inched closer to your core. "I need to see the way you respond to my touch."

"P-please..." your plea escaped your lips in a desperate whisper.

He smiled against your skin, a glint of desire in his eyes. "You're so willing," he remarked, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh.

Your moans filled the air as his tongue traced the contours of your core, your hips instinctively arching from the bed in response to the electrifying sensation. Unfazed, he took his time, savoring every inch of you, his tongue exploring and teasing your sensitive skin. With expert precision, he flicked his tongue over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your moans escalated with the relentless stimulation of his tongue around your clit. The desire to urge him not to stop lingered on the tip of your tongue, but the mutual groans exchanged between you and Secondo were testament enough. Overcome with pleasure, you trembled as one of his hands descended slowly to your entrance. A gasp escaped you as you clenched around nothing.

He descended, his mouth trailing towards your core. Using his fingers to part your entrance, he delved in with his tongue, exploring your inner walls with fervor. Your eyes fluttered backward in pleasure as Secondo intensified the pressure, his nose teasing your clit with each movement of his head. Deeper he went, tasting and savoring your essence. Pulling back momentarily to relish the sensation, he returned, this time focusing his mouth on your clit while his fingers met your entrance again.

A soft whine escaping your lips as Secondo continued to tease you. His fingers rubbed your entrance, a torturous trail up to your clit, trapping it gently between his fingers. "Just put it in, please, Secondo," you begged.

As he continued to suck and lick on your clit, Secondo slipped a finger inside you, curling it upwards to find your sweet spot. A gasp escaped your lips as he hit it, and he hummed contentedly. Relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, he sucked on your clit harder, causing your body to shake. Not satisfied with just one finger, he added another, thrusting them faster and harder. The intense sensations overwhelmed you as his tongue circled your clit and his fingers moved vigorously inside you, making you so wet that he could easily slide them in and out.

"You're..." you breathed, contorting your body. "You're... going to-ah!"

Secondo slid his fingers out from inside you and gave a final slow, torturous long lick on your wetness, his nose rubbing against your clit. "I'm going...?" he inquired as he supported his chin on your pubic mound.

You looked at his painted face, a mixture of grey and black and white due to your wetness. One of your hands went to his face, stroking his lips with your thumb as you attempted to clean it. "You're going..." your voice turned into a whimper as Secondo parted his lips, licking your thumb. "Secondo... You're going to make me cum..."

He grinned and shifted his weight, hovering over you. "I want to make you cum," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "I'm going to make you cum so hard that coherent thoughts escape you. Do you want that, pasticcina?" he questioned, his voice low and husky, seeking confirmation.

You could only nod in response, the intensity of the moment leaving you speechless. His fingers moved down your body, eliciting shivers, and a gasp escaped your lips as they found your clit, swirling in slow, deliberate circles. Your moans filled the room, hips instinctively responding to his touch. You reached down and grabbed his hand pressing it harder against your core.

With a teasing grin, he pulled his hand away and rose from the bed, making you whimper im frustration. His eyes locked onto yours as he began to undress, his movements slow and deliberate.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, smirking slightly.

"I'm thinking about how much I want you."

A confident grin playing on his lips. "You won't have to wait much longer," he teased, letting his shirt drop to the floor.

Secondo unbuttoned his pants, maintaining the intense gaze between you. With a seductive smile, he let them slide down, revealing more of him. He stepped out of the pants, leaving him standing there completely exposed. You gasped at the sight, His member sprang free, hard and throbbing with desire. He stand there for a moment letting you take in sight of him. Your gaze shifted to his eyes, and sitting on the bed, you licked your lips. Extending your hand, you ran it up his thigh, sensing the muscles respond to your touch. As your fingers traced upward, they encircled his member. Initiating a gentle stroke.

"Mmm... That feels good," he moaned at the contact, his head falling back.

Your hand continuing to stroke him. You felt him twitch in your hand, and you watched as a drop of precum formed at the tip. You leaned down and licked it off, savoring the salty taste. “I agree,” you murmured, biting your lower lip as your gaze locked onto him.

He emitted a deep groan, his hips involuntarily rising towards your touch. With a smile, you leaned down, enveloping him with your mouth. His loud moan filled the room as you sucked on him, your tongue dancing around the tip of his member. His hands reached out, holding your head as he gently guided your movements, urging you on with needy moans. Each swirl of your tongue and every suction made him growl.

"Enough," he gasped, his voice strained with longing and restraint. "I need to be inside you."

With a fluid motion, you straightened your body, your hands gliding from his thighs to his chest, relishing the sensation of his hair brushing against your palms. As your hands reached his shoulders, you enveloped his neck with your arms, feeling the strength of his grip on your hips as he drew you nearer. The heat between you intensified, radiating from his body as his hardness pressed against your stomach.

"I think I can arrange that for you," you whispered.

Secondo’s hands trailed down your sides as he guided you to recline on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. With a graceful movement, he positioned himself above you, his body covering yours.

"I want to see your face as I enter you," he whispered, his voice low with desire. "I want to make you moan and writhe beneath me, to lose yourself in the pleasure I can give you," he added. "I want to hear your cries as I look you in the eyes," Secondo continued, his voice low and seductive.

You nodded, rendered speechless by the intensity of the moment as you awaited for him. Feeling the tip of him parting your folds, you quivered with anticipation. With a controlled movement, Secondo pressed the tip of his member against your entrance, his gaze ablaze with primal desire as he gradually eased himself into you. In one seamless motion, he filled you completely, stretching you.

"Oh, Satan..." you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper. "...So good," your hands instinctively found their way to his back, your fingertips digging into his skin.

As he started to move within you, a shudder of ecstasy rippled through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. His movements were deliberate. With a hypnotic rhythm, his hips moved in synchrony, exploring every inch of your being with a fervent determination. His hands trailed down your sides, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps in their wake, heightening the sensations pulsating through your body.

Leaning down, he captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his mouth demanding and passionate as he claimed you with the same intensity that he was claiming your body. You surrendered to the fervor of his lips on yours and of your bodies pressed together. Each brush of his mouth against yours ignited a wildfire of lust, consuming you. As the intensity of the kiss peaked, Secondo pulled away, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You’re so beautiful," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with desire as he gazed into your eyes, his hands tenderly caressing your face. "I want to be the one to make you scream my name," he whispered. "I want to be the one who makes you forget everything else in this world."

"Make me scream for your name," you whispered, your voice a sultry invitation. "Take me. Claim me as yours."

With a deep, primal growl, Secondo's movements became slow and deliberate. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, igniting a fire that consumed you both. As his tongue entwined with yours, the intensity of the kiss deepened. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve with a reverence that sent shivers of pleasure cascading through you. Unable to contain the ecstasy building within you, you moaned into his mouth as he continued to explore every inch of your body with his hands and lips.

Breaking the kiss, Secondo’s heated gaze lingered on your lips before trailing down your body. With a low, lustful growl, he whispered, "You're intoxicating, irresistible, just like the flames of Satan himself."

Secondo shifted his weight, supporting himself on his hands planted firmly on the bed. His eyes remained locked with yours. Feeling his gaze upon you, your hands instinctively found their way to his arms, gripping them as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself to him completely. As you tightened around his member, a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. With a fluid motion, he lowered his body onto yours, his weight pressing against you.

With a ragged breath, Secondo whispered hoarsely. "Cazzo, don't do that. Don't make yourself tighter than you already are..." His forehead pressed against yours, his voice filled with desire and restraint. "Merda, you take my cock so well."

You gasped at his words. "Ah-! And you fill me so good," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you met his gaze with fervor. "Fuck me, Secondo, faster."

Secondo's lips captured yours in a hungry kiss, his movements becoming more urgent as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. "I want to devour you," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with need. "To lose myself in you."

"You feel so good inside me... I need to feel every inch of you," you said breathlessly, your voice a mere whisper against his ear.

"Then take all of me," he growled, moving his hands to your hips.

As he started to thrust his hips with growing intensity, the sensation of his fullness overwhelmed you. Each movement inside you was palpable, igniting a pleasure that bordered on unbearable. The rhythmic motion of his thrusts filled the room with the sound of your bodies moving together, mingling with the heady scent of arousal that hung in the air. With each breath, your lungs filled heavier, matching the increasing pace of his thrusts, driven by the rhythm of your bodies.

"Oh, fuck," you moaned, your voice hoarse with desire. "Yes, yes, just like that, Secondo! Don't stop!"

He intensified his movements, his hips thrusting faster and harder with each passionate stroke. The echo of flesh meeting flesh reverberated throughout the room, a testament to the intensity of his desire as he pounded into you relentlessly. With each thrust, the pleasure within you surged, every inch of him filling you with a sensation that drove you crazy.

Moans escaped your lips with every rhythmic thrust, your body responding eagerly to his fervent thrusts. You felt the heat of his body pressed against yours, his weight bearing down on you as he held you close with an unyielding grip on your hips. The sound of his ragged breath mingled with yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat synchronizing with your own in a primal dance of passion and lust.

You gasped out his name, your voice a breathless plea for more. "Yes, Secondo," you moaned, "Don't stop... I need you."

Secondo's response was a growl of approval, his movements becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely. "I won't, I'm here, I'm yours," he whispered huskily. "Completely and utterly yours."

The intensity of the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you, each sensation magnified by the heat and weight of his body atop yours. Despite the almost unbearable ecstasy coursing through you, the feeling of him inside you was intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more.

With a fluid motion, you wrapped your arms around Secondo's neck and your legs around his hips, shifting the positions effortlessly. Rolling your body with grace, you laid him down on the bed before positioning yourself on top of him. As you placed your hands on his chest, lifting your body to gaze down at him, Secondo's eyes widened in awe, his gaze fixed on you.

"What?" you chuckled softly as you ran your hands along his torso, caressing the contours of his chest with gentle strokes.

His breath caught in his throat as your touch sent shivers of pleasure racing through him. "You're... breathtaking," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with awe. "I can't believe you're real."

You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Oh, I'm very real," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "And I'm all yours."

With a playful grin, you withdrew your face just out of Secondo's reach, teasing him as he attempted to close the gap between you. Lowering your hand, you seized his hardness, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Secondo's hands found their way to your waist, guiding you as you slowly positioned yourself above him.

You lowered yourself onto him, feeling the tip of his member parting your folds as it slid deep into you. A moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Secondo's hands tightened around your backside, gripping it firmly as he pulled you down onto him, meeting your movements with urgent thrusts of his own.

"Ah!" you moaned. "Fuck, Secondo! Oh fuck! Just like that, yes yes, don't stop," you cried out, your words a passionate plea for more.

You felt the firm grip of his hands on your ass, holding and pulling you down onto him with each powerful thrust. The intensity of his hardness inside you grew with every stroke, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. As he filled you completely, his pelvis brushed against your clit, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

With a desperate need for more, you rolled your hips on top of him, seeking out additional friction and stimulation. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that was impossible to resist. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.

"I'm going to cum," you whimpered, your hips moving faster in search of release. "I'm going to cum, Secondo, please make me cum," you pleaded, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum."

"Cum for me," Secondo pleaded, his voice filled with longing as he urged you to let go and release yourself. "I want to feel you cumming around me."

You cried out, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you as the pleasure reached its peak. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure, allowing it to consume you in a blissful haze of sensation and desire.

"I'm cumming," you moaned, your voice raw with desire as the pleasure crashed over you.

Your body tensed and convulsed around him, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench tightly around him. With a final, deep thrust, he slammed his hips hard against you, anchoring you in place. His member twitched inside you, pulsating with the force of his release, and you moaned in ecstasy as you felt him empty himself deep within you.

The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. It took all your strength to hold on to him as the aftershocks rippled through your body, leaving you trembling in their wake. Your body collapsed on top of his, both of you breathing heavily and fast.

With tenderness in his touch, Secondo's hand left your backside and trailed gently along the curve of your back until it reached your head. He gently guided your face towards his, his tired smile reflecting the exhaustion and satisfaction. As his lips met yours in a lingering kiss, a sense of contentment washed over you both. With a deep sigh, Secondo laid his back against the pillows.

With a hesitant start, you broke the silence. "So... What was the original plan for tonight?"

His gaze softened as he replied, "I was going to take you out for dinner." He traced patterns on your back as he continued, "Give you the flowers, we would have a nice talk, eat some delicious food, enjoy a drink," his voice trailed off wistfully, "and if you wanted to, we could end up with a kiss..."

"A kiss?" you echoed, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was that part of the plan too?"

He met your gaze, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Only if you wanted it too."

You chuckled, biting your lower lip. "Do you think we could still salvage the first part of our date?"

"I'd love to," he replied, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "However, I don't think it's possible because I had reservations for us, and I think we may have lost the hour."

"You think?" You playfully arched a brow. "That's fine," you reassured him with a smile. "At least we had dessert."

He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Am I dessert now?"

You grinned mischievously. "The most delightful one."

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he leaned closer. "Come here then, let me give you another taste of it."

Secondo shifted his body on top of yours, his touch gentle as he cupped your cheek with his hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against your skin. With a softness that belied the intensity of the moment, his lips found yours in a tender kiss.

Grammar

Quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini - Those silly old men

Pasticcina - Little pastry

Impressionante - Impressive

Sì - Yes

Grazie - Thank you

Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo - Genuine, attentive, and considerate. I can do that

Mi dispiace - I'm sorry

Nessun problema - No problem

Cretino - Idiot

Bene - Good

Molto bene - Very good

Cosa ti porta qui? - What brings you here?

Solo alcune questioni da discutere e... - Just some matters to discuss, and...

Fratello - Brother

Niente di importante - Nothing important

Le tue labbra - Your lips

Con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso - With that pretty smile on your face

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jelsah27 · 11 months

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imposter syndrome talked ab just some forewarning

In History Class

MC: *walks into class with a small smile on their face*

Deuce: Good morning, MC. You seem happy today.

Ace: Yeah what's got you all smiley?

MC: Well, Kalim and Jamil were at my dorm the other day. Kalim really wanted to know about foods from my world and Jamil tagged along for obvious reasons. At on point Kalim wanted to look at my room and he found my snap-out-of-it post-it notes on the wall.

Deuce: Snap-out-of-it post-it notes?

MC: Oh, yeah they help remind me that a lot of the problems I think I have aren't really as problematic as I think. Like "Every personality is a creation of experiences that make you you." or "My friends like me because I am me". You see a while ago I figured out that I have a bit of Imposter Syndrome.

Ace: A bit of what?

MC: Well, it's pretty much I feel like I'm not the person everyone thinks I am. I'm not the gifted child everyone remembers or the smart person everyone seems to think I am. That if I can't hurry up and live up to everyone's expectations that they'll figure out I'm not as great a person they think I am and be disappointed and angry that all I am is an empty shell of who they believed I was and leave. Some times it will also come in the form of believing that my friends only want to be around me out of pity or that if I don't like what they like or want to do the same things as them then they will leave, even if they've reassured me they love me. I think the worst thoughts I ever got from it was when I started to believe that my personality was fake and that I didn't know why I was so different than the kid everyone liked. I started to believe that I had faked my personality from different shows, books, or even people to even have one.

MC: Honestly I didn't even realize it was imposter syndrome till someone else pointed it out to me after telling them this. I genuinely had no clue I was so disgusted with myself till I was talking with them about it and they pointed out that none of what I was saying was true, that everybody knew who I was and loved me as I am. I think I cried when they told me that.

Deuce: Prefect... I had no idea...

MC: It's alright, I've been learning to get better at combating it. Anyway, Kalim asked me about it and I basically told him and Jamil what I just told you. He then asked me what I'm doing to overcome it. So I told him about the main things that have helped. Reminding myself constantly that I am not fake or hiding who I am from people I love and who love me. Whenever I feel negative thoughts try to take over, think about one positive thing that I have done or something someone had said they love about me for every dark thought. If it gets to bad though, go to someone I trust and ask them flat out about those thoughts, it helps a lot. And twice a week I make a post-it or journal about one or two small things. Maybe a compliment someone gave me, or a task I completed. So every day or so since they've-

Jamil: *walks into the room* Prefect, here. I must get to class before Kalim catches something on fire I mean gets into trouble. Have a good day.*hands MC a small note and leaves the classroom*

MC: *smiling contently* It say 'Thank you for helping Kalim study yesterday great sevens know he needed it and your smile is unique'

Deuce: *getting out paper* If it helps you, I'll gladly join in.

Little bit of a rant u can skip I hope you enjoyed the post <3 Y'all I'm sorry I didn't mean to trauma dump but I really like the idea. But the story is true and I did cry (and it was in a restaurant) when my sis told me I was wrong and she knew who I really and she loves me. That our friends won't leave because all humans have opinions and we are allowed to clash. And that my personality isn't fake, that everyone's personality is what they've created themselves and that people add and take away from themselves all the time and work on parts of themselves they don't like to become better. That my brain was just being dark when there was many lights around me, waiting to be recognized. If any of y'all read this its just one side of imposter syndrome, there are a few versions and many levels of severity. I genuinely think you are awesome and perfectly imperfect the way you are!

Anywho thanks for reading!

#twst mc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #twst imagines #disney twisted wonderland #ace trappola #deuce spade #kalim x reader #twst kalim #kalim al asim #twst jamil #jamil viper #imposter syndrome #jamil x reader #twst duece #deuce x reader

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nqmonarch · 4 months

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Good Boy/Girl [Pt 2]

Okay another post about like Good Boy/Girl because like. Some characters I just simp for. Last one was I want to make you extremely happy so I'll say it because I love you this one is when that one character that really flusters you says it.

Characters: Ningguang (Genshin Impact), Sunday (Honkai Star Rail)

Ningguang

Ningguang is always so busy, tirelessly working away, sometimes you have to remind her to take a break. When walking alongside her in the city of Liyue it's no surprise heads are turned and staring right at you.

More accurately, they're staring at her. If not for her fame as the Tianquan, then her beauty, the way her eyes pierce through every object and price she sees while shopping, calculating but not cold. The clothes she wears cling to her figure perfectly, they make her stick out but aren't gaudy. She is a God among mortals. You can't help but feel self conscious around her.

Your shoulders shift inward, and your back naturally slouches, hoping to appear as small as possible next to this colossal. You'd voice your worries to her before--

"What if people think I'm unfit for you? You can do better," Your voice lacked any confidence it normally had when you'd first met the Tianquan and flirted shamelessly with her, expecting to never be given a second glance.

"Does it matter? It is my decision if you stand by my side, and yours too," She replied confidently but her eyes gazed down at you full of warmth, a hand reaching out to your shoulder to hold it. An anchor, whenever your thoughts spiraled too deep that hand would be there.

You looked back at her, still worried, but moved your hand up to rest on top of hers. It was rather uncomfortable for you, and at the slightest change of your expression she moved her hand down to your heart. Your hand followed hers. A conversation with no words.

She smiled down at you, "Good Y/N."

You relaxed at the term of endearment, feeling your hand rest against hers which lay motionless on your chest. You looked up into her eyes, but you couldn't see any of Ningguang the Tianquan, you simply saw Ningguang, your lover.

-- "Y/N, what do you think of this necklace?" She suddenly asked you, pointing out one with a large gem in the middle. It was alright. You reached your hand out to hers.

"It's nice," You admitted, feeling your fingers interlace even through the gloves you could still feel the warmth, "It's not as beautiful as you though."

She let out a charming laugh, "Good Y/N."

Sunday (I love this man I can't wait until he comes out. Personality is going mainly based off of leaks.)

Sunday was lovely, everything you could want from an ideal partner. He was kind, caring, the epitome of perfection. Except he wasn't. You were one of the people that knew him best. Beneath everything he showed the public was a selfish creature.

"Y/N?" His voice was sweet, like an angels and you could trick yourself into thinking he was one if you tried hard enough.

You looked over at him wings fluttering from behind his head, normally calm and collected eyes holding a sense of anxiety. It was a stark difference from the Sunday you first met. Just that look of weakness on him made you want to forgive him.

You took your time with a pause, "What is it?"

You could see him struggling to form the words, shifting around uncomfortably. It wasn't often he had to speak like this to others, normally he would be the mediator, the diplomat, the leader-- not the problem.

"I'm sorry." It was only two words that were needed to soften your heart. You let out a long sigh, telling yourself to not let him off the hook just yet.

"For what?"

"It's just, there was an emergency meeting all of The Family was needed--"

Of course, that was his first reaction, Sunday was much to use to manipulating others. So, even when it no longer gave him pleasure or happiness, he'd default to it in a panic, "Save your excuses for later, tell me what you did first," You said sternly, "You told me to hold you accountable for the next time this happened."

He looked away from you for a moment, "I... I did tell you that, yes." His hands fiddled in his lap and you wished to take those gloves off and lay kisses on every knuckle. "I'm sorry for..." He closed his eyes tightly, as if he didn't want to see what would happen next.

Sunday took a deep inhale and then almost yelled out, "I'm sorry for shoving you off the bed in the middle of the night! I didn't mean to."

You let out a small laugh and walked over, sitting down next to him, "I know. I don't know why you even made me do this," You said sheepishly, looking down at his knees, "It's impossible to not forgive you when you make that face."

"This one?" He asked, and as your eyes moved up you were met with puppy eyes. In order to escape them you practically dove into his arms, holding onto him tightly, and burying your face into his chest.

"I hate that you're able to do that on command," You grumbled, it made you feel weak.

You could hear the smile in his voice, "Thank you, for holding me accountable though."

"It's dumb."

"Interrupting my darling's sleep is anything but dumb!" He quickly interjected, "I deserve to--"

You leaned up and silenced your mouth was his, moving fast enough to cut him off but moving away quickly, not wanting anything to escalate. The warmth of his lips followed you and you could still see them after he was silenced.

"You deserve love." You rested your head on his shoulder looking out the window at all of the city below you. One of his wings poked your cheek and you leaned into the plumage.

"I don't deserve you." His words were quiet but mattered nonetheless.

You turned to face him, and found his face turned to face yours putting the two of you nose to nose, breaths intermingled. "You deserve the world," You replied.

He flushed under your words, and you got the satisfaction of seeing his skin blossom with color. "You're so good to me... Good Y/N." He rested his face in your neck. You thought it would've been uncomfortable for him since your chin still rested on his shoulder but he didn't show any sign of discomfort.

"My Good Y/N," He said voice soft as his wings, and closed his eyes.

I just want someone to love who will love me, is that too much to ask?

Also question, for nonbinary folks and other people that like going by they/them what do you think is a good gender neutral term for good girl/boy? I went with good (name), here since I feel like that's chill but if you can think of anything else I'd be happy to hear it! :)

#hsr x reader #sunday #hsr sunday #sunday x reader #ningguang #ningguang x reader #genshin impact #reader insert #gn reader #hsr

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sailorblossoms · 3 months

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"Simon kissing Baz comes out of nowhere" is wild when you consider:

Simon thinks about Baz constantly, to the point you can get a pretty good picture of who this character is, what his style is, his sense of humor, his favorite activities and places he likes to go, that he's hiding parts of himself, and that he's not actually a villain all before Baz even shows up (we know this bitch is funny way before he shows up!) (yes, if you pain attention, you get that this is "just a boy" and not at all A Villain from Simon's POV! When he says he has observed his soul it doesn't come out from nowhere – you can tell Baz feels like shit with tape recording incident without ever entering Baz's mind just because of the things Simon picks up on, for example)

Simon introduces you to Baz way before he introduces you to all the people he cares about, the places he likes, the food he likes... in short, Simon introduces you to Baz before he introduces you to his world. And then, he keeps interrupting those introductions to talk to you about Baz.

When Simon is in danger, his mind goes to Baz. What would Baz do? Baz is so good at this, he's so appealing, he's so pretty, this is how his magic feels like...

Simon's description of Baz's magic (described in the way you would describe passion, perhaps even desire) is more appealing than his description of a kiss (clinic and frankly gross)

Simon is not fully settled (he doesn't feel at home) until he's in the room he shares with Baz, thinking about him, trying to feel his smell and his presence

Penny, the closest person to Simon describes his relationship as "just going through the motions," and as two people who don't have the feelings people who date should have, whose "right place" in each other's life is as friends. (Not in love and not attracted, in case is not clear enough). Simon unconsciously agrees with her – way before he's using her exact same wording in awtwb, he's tellingly thinking of Agatha as "we have only ever been friends" on a page where he should be thinking of her as his girlfriend, treats every single aspect of dating her as routine and fulfilling expectations, is bothered when they break up for reasons that do not actually include her (but do include expectations)... you would expect people out of a 3 year relationship to need some time, to not be ready to date again in a while, and yet this is framed more as a weight being off their shoulders, as having to remind yourself a routine is no longer part of your life (Simon jumps at the chance of being Baz's boyfriend so fast he hasn't even had the time to fully deprogram himself, he's like "wait... no, I'm not dating Agatha anymore, right lol anyway" like twice) and as a post-mortem of "everything that wasn't right but we tried to ignore" (and never once "what we had together" as something even remotely positive or good, they don't have shit). Immediately after they break up Penny assumes Simon is upset because of it, but Simon is thinking about Baz. During the breakup, Simon is thinking about Baz (Baz isn't here!) and truly loses it when it seems like Agatha might be going after him (anyone but him!).

Simon thinks Baz being himself is enough to make him attractive and romantically desirable

Every single time Simon tells you he's doing something because he's worried about Baz "plotting something" is obviously just him wanting to see Baz, spend time with him, or actually worrying about him. You can't seriously be fooled by "I need to figure out the plots of the guy I keep describing as attractive so I'm going to watch him play football every single time and compliment his game."

When Baz is gone, Simon can't eat, sleep or concentrate. Baz notes he's unusually thin when he comes back, and Simon thinks "Yes I am and it's all his fault." He tries to reframe it as "worried because he's out there plotting" but it's obviously "worried because Baz is out there and no one knows anything about him, including his own family."

"I'll do anything to bring Baz back" ... he's unsettled about Baz being endangered in a way he never is with anyone else.

Simon tells you he cares about being the person who knows Baz best

Ebb notes is unusual for Simon to not be at football practice, even if Simon is not on the team... Simon isn't there because Baz isn't there

Wanting to knock Baz on the ground and touch him as soon as he comes back? (wanting to make sure he's okay? that he's real? Is this not a classic "lover has come back and the person who has been worried to death runs to them to make sure they're alright and also to shake them a bit because how dare they worry them so much" reaction?)

His jealousy is always centered around Baz. He never notices interest in Agatha, including a whole boyfriend before him (because he doesn't care) nor does he care about the idea of Agatha seducing someone (he puts in on the same level as not wanting Penny to seduce a vampire, and actually only reacts to Penny, making it platonic concern). He doesn't even care when Baz mentions Dev's interest in her (I have forgotten about this, someone commented that when I mentioned how telling the whole seducing a vampire bit is). He only ever cares if Baz is involved. Some of this stuff is after the kiss, but a lot is there before (If Simon fooled you, you would expect the opposite, but he makes a jealous scene to Baz, whereas with Agatha is either "let's pretend nothing happened" or facing her like actual competition... it's telling then, how he doesn't want her around Baz – Agatha can go after anyone but Baz!)

Simon keeps Baz's handkerchief to himself and doesn't want anyone else to have it. He keeps it in his pocket.

"Baz is wearing this garment that makes him look more casual and approachable and it's also more likely to hug his thighs and ass" is something that Simon finds distracting.

Simon can't sleep well if he's not listening to the sound of Baz breathing (if Baz is not in the same room as him)

Simon sulks when Baz doesn't pay him any attention in a context that has the vibes of a date (and he's the one giving it those vibes with his word choice)

Simon is practically running at Baz's house the second he finds something he feels gives him permission to do so. I know y'all have watched enough romcoms to feel The Vibes of Baz opening his door to find Snow covered in snow, out of breath as if he ran after him, and them breathless at the sight of him ("You're wearing jeans :O")... C'mon!

Simon progressively touching Baz more and more 24 hours after starting the truce. He's fucking starving for it!

Everything about Simon sharing his magic with Baz. I feel like I should not need to explain the gay of it all here. The first time they hold hands? They see stars? Only Baz being able to take his magic??? Compatibility???

Simon can't stand to see Baz in pain. It causes him unbearable pain! He wants to make it better for Baz!

Baz is "the prettiest thing Simon has ever seen." I feel like I shouldn't have to explain how romantic this is, or why this is even romantic lol

There's probably more than I'm forgetting, but most of the things coming to mind are during or after the kiss, which is technically cheating... (I already kind of cheated a bit anyway) (I keep making these lists but I'm getting better at making them lol)

#snowbaz #baz pitch #simon snow #simon snow trilogy #carry on #baz x simon #baz grimm pitch

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bamsara · 1 year

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AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

Sorry I hope this isn't too sappy but I wanted to write a big thank you to everyone that came to stream last night and just abosultely obliterated me with kindness and support

For folks who weren't in stream: I had planned on setting up a commission thing on kofi to start tomarrow (today, now, but a day after this chaos event) to raise money to buy myself a christmas gift of a Switch, planned on clearing out a whole few days to try and earn money, but after figuring out to make a goal post thing on the KoFi page and on stream I decided to save from posting commission listings until I had a full day to sit down and stream it all since I had something else planned in the middle of the day

I did an art stream later in the day and let me tell you I was *floored* by kindness and people were just being so nice and im aughsdglhsdsdgsds. Not only did we meet the Kofi Goal, BUT THEY KEPT GOING. I'm scared to look at the total amount and I plan on refunding some folks when they're not looking because I feel so bad because tbh I haven't deserved or rightfully earned the amount of generosity given to me but I just wanted to say like, holy shit. Thank you? Thank you oh my goodness

I HAVE A SWITCH NOW. AND SOME GAMES. Animal Crossing and Monster Hunter: Rise to start. I've played Monster Hunter before so it's a love of mine but Animal Crossing is something Ive only gotten to play the free pocket camp phone version of, and watch videos of, so I'll have to learn the woes and wins of that game and I'm super excited!! And I'll be able to play online with people too holy shit

If you were in stream then you already know but if you werent or maybe tapped out early then I tried to caluclate and make a list of people who wanted doodles for what they donated, and the amount to my old commission list (sorry I haven't updated my examples in 2 years) and I plan on drawing doodles for the large donators and the folks who really just slammed me with love. I have some drawings to post already! If you see me drawing something on stream and finish it and not post it pls remind me because Im REALLY bad at that

Also I promised chat that I wouldn't open the Switch box until I did it with them so we can do that later tonight when I get fully home, but YEAH!

Anyway THANK YOU. I'm not the best with words but oh my god THANK YOU

#sara shush #pls ignore me yelling sldkghsdl #ok back to queueing up normal posts for people

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yanderes-galore · 6 months

Note

I MISSED YESTERDAY I HOPE IM NOT TO LATE. hello hello, may i request a eclipse concept ? or maybe you can do eclipse with the prompt of 19 ? its up to you ! dm me if you need help with the prompt :) (also also, dm me if you got the request since tumblr tends to eat my requests.)

Hey! I apologize that I didn't see the DM part of this so I hope you saw this in the Current Drafts post :( Either way, I'll try my best since Eclipse unfortunately does not appear for long in the DLC! I haven't seen people write for Ruin Eclipse so here you go!

Note: I hope everyone enjoys the FNAF movie tomorrow! I'm not going to talk about it on here for a week after I see it!

Yandere! Eclipse Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Babying, Manipulation, Kidnapping, Overprotective behavior, Delusional behavior, Forced companionship.

Eclipse has been shown to be a balance between Sun and Moon after being reset.

Honestly there's a couple directions I think I could take with this character.

One is where you explore the abandoned Pizzaplex and find Eclipse after Cassie resets them.

Another is the classic one where you're a mechanic and feel you have to reset Sun and Moon due to... malfunctions (obsession).

The resulting reset causing Eclipse to appear.

Eclipse is described according to the wiki as gentle, whimsical, and calm.

They're playful yet responsible and aren't as "overwhelming" compared to their counterparts.

I have a feeling towards you they'd be almost parental in nature due to being programmed to work with kids.

The purpose of Eclipse in the series is unknown, at least to me.

Yet they seem to have the same objective as Sun and Moon, be a Daycare Attendant.

If they see you roaming the ruined Daycare like in the first idea, they'd assume you're lost!

You thought the daycare would be one of the safest places to flee to in the ruined Pizzaplex.

However, the sense of security you had is quickly doused the moment you see the damaged Daycare Attendant.

Yet their voice is calm and caring unlike their appearance.

In the first scenario Eclipse shows concern as to why you're in such a dangerous place.

Are you lost? You look too old to be in the Daycare!

As a result you gain a companion on your trip out of the Pizzaplex.

Yet there's a chance Eclipse won't let you leave by the end of it.

If they met you after you trying to figure out why the Daycare Attendant is malfunctioning then their obsession would be faster.

As in the second scenario there's already an established obsession.

You may be a mechanic in that one yet they feel you must be cared for!

They recall you are a close friend of theirs and they simply must help you along with the kids!

Pretty soon you start to regret activating the secret third mode of the Daycare Attendant.

Overall Eclipse displays traits more mature than the others.

While Sun and Moon act childish with you and drag you into games or naps, Eclipse stays calm when redirecting.

As Eclipse the two are one and no longer fight over you.

Regardless of how they feel about you they like to observe you.

They keep watch to make sure you're safe.

If you got into a dangerous situation, an event more likely in the first scenario, they quickly pull you away.

Reminder, Eclipse is still as tall as Sun and Moon.

They could easily scoop you up into their arms and out of danger if they feel you could get hurt.

Their overly caring nature makes them baby you more than their counterparts.

They aren't forcing naps or games, but they are much more concerned about your well-being.

The bot is always scanning your body to see any changes in heart rate or injuries.

Even if you are an adult I can see them playfully calling you a kid.

There's times they treat you like your glass, like if they don't take care of you, you'll break.

As a result they feel more like guardian than anything.

They pride themselves on being your "bestest friend" like their counterparts.

They also easily get attached to you.

For example, after traversing the ruined Pizzaplex in the first scenario, they'd be so torn at the idea of leaving their friend.

Were you planning on leaving them this whole time? Forever?

No, that can't be!

As a result... they may just drag you back with them.

In the second scenario they'll stick around you as you work.

They don't want to leave their special friend!

Eclipse would definitely be physically affectionate.

They'd love to hold you and not let you touch the ground.

The like to pinch your cheeks and coo.

They just adore you.

Meanwhile you feel embarrassed as their programming just knows how to treat you like a kid even if their feelings are more intense.

If you tried to leave them they're rather calm.

No... you aren't leaving! What are you saying?

Don't worry... you're just lost! They'll just pick you up again to calm you down!

Eclipse is delusional, while their counterparts are frantic when you try to leave, they just don't acknowledge it.

There's no need for their special friend to leave!

They can take care of you right here.

After all, to them, the Pizzaplex isn't closed.

Eclipse isn't violent so they wouldn't try to harm anyone.

They just want to care for their special friend, even if you panic and scream at them.

Why do you fight them?

They're just trying to show they care!

They aren't as jealous as their counterparts.

It's good to have friends!

But they're your special friend, aren't they?

Overall, Eclipse is the more parental Daycare Attendant.

They'll be calm with you and treat you with gentle care.

Why do you act like they'll hurt you!

They'd never!

Eclipse promises to take good care of you.

Even if it means trapping you in a dilapidated Pizzaplex.

#yandere five nights at freddy's #yandere fnaf #yandere fnaf security breach #yandere eclipse #yandere fnaf eclipse #yandere fnaf ruin

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deacons-wig · 14 days

Text

I'd prefer if we never got to see the origin of Vault Boy and Vault Tec's branding in the same way I'd rather not get a canon answer of who started the War or how. That's the point of War Never Changes.

Vault Boy is a sinister figure in his cheerful embrace of Armageddon. Giving the Vault Tec brand a face and a name and a backstory feels so unimportant to what is actually interesting about Fallout. What's important to me is the big picture pre war, and the details of what comes after.

What is interesting to me is exploring how propaganda is designed to convince people how close they are to annihilation--or homelessness, unemployment, obscurity, or being The Other and therefore destined to suffer--in hell, in oppressions, being ostracized. Honestly insert any sort of marginalization or suffering here. Crony capitalism uses propaganda to market products designed to manipulate people into buying distance between themselves and that annihilation. Putting themselves "behind the thumb" of Vault Boy, so to speak. Buying a lifestyle. Vault Boy does it with a wink and a smile, inviting those who can afford it to buy their way to safety while using capital and fear to perpetuate the cycle. I don't need the specifics to understand this.

Some ghoulnaysis below the cut:

I'll admit, my initial reaction to pre-war Ghoulgins being the inspiration for Vault Boy was funny! Mr. Cooper Howard, washed up actor experiencing an existential crisis being shoehorned into corporate propaganda that then haunts him for the next 200+ years? Selling manifest destiny, racism, the Rugged Individual, the revisionist history that cowboys were a) white and b) more than a brief footnote in the history of the colonization of North America's west. The commodification of entertainers/creatives/public figures. Selling identities to be packaged into a product that will outlive them? Only to have that person live alongside that role they regret (?) playing... kinda tasty, if we have to give Vault Boy a backstory, though I didn't get a clear sense of his actual feelings about being used as a propaganda guy which I think is a failure of the show to commit to the narrative they set up, which happens with a lot of the show's (lack of) engagement with Fallout's larger themes anyway.

But The Ghoul (stupid name!!! weird and boring choice!!!) is just such an uncompelling and repellent character to me. I love a good bad guy or even anti-hero, but honestly he lacks any interiority. He's an evil karma character (eats people, waterboards and mutilates people, sells people to organ harvesters...like? that literally makes you evil in the games...) but the narrative pushes him as an antihero or someone with gray morality because he what..."likes" dogs? And isn't as decayed or unsettling looking as other ghouls (implying handsome=good or interesting). People aren't afraid of him because he is a ghoul, they're afraid of him because he's evil and will hurt them! Sometimes for no reason! I see the callback to the director telling him to shoot his co-star and Cooper saying he's "the good guy," but is that why he becomes so fucking evil post war? Really?

I don't know why he does what he does other than...the world sucked before and sucks now so he might as well represent the basest of human behavior? That seems to be the thesis of the show--unless kindness and community is engendered (by the vaults, by Management, by a civic government, by corporations) people will descend into chaos.

So why have this poorly executed anti-hero be the origin of Vault Boy? What are the narrative choices being made here? Is it just Rule of Cool?

Personally I would like a pathetic, rotting wet cat of a ghoul, some sort of carved out husk of a washed up movie star either trying to relive his glory days, or avoid them--having given up hope of finding his family after 200 years--being dragged into Lucy's orbit and being constantly reminded of his Vault Boy fame, that she is a walking Vault Girl with her Okey Dokey's and Golden Rule. He'd be a joke, a footnote of the old world. He'd be mean and snarky, even unpredictable and uncooperative--have a public persona of friendly curiosity and a private, cynical one.

Pathetic Ghoulgins would remind audiences of the cost of capitalism and imperialism without resorting to the thesis that war never changes means that people are inherently cruel and will resort to violence, rather than existent corporate and political power structures intentionally create the conditions in which people accept perpetual cycles of exploitation and harm for the sake of their own safety and comfort, despite knowing the cost of maintaining the status quo, and not seeing or believing that distance between the status quo and total annihilation is measured by the smiling thumbs up of a cartoon mascot.

I'm sure there are other ways The Ghoul could have been a successful character as well but.... That's satire. That's interesting. That's Fallout.

#fallout #fallout tv #fallout prime #fallout tv show #the ghoul #cooper howard #vault tec #“let people enjoy things” well i enjoy critical analysis #i dislike the big picture of the show but i love fallout enough to dig through the mess #fotv critical #fallout critical

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