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cinomn · 1 month

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yard work isn’t always work

warnings: mature content. matty x fem!reader. does this even make sense? idk. yardman matty lol ;) i didn’t proofread omg

note: im so rusty sorry. also it’s just super blurbish as the story goes on. i’m done ignoring this blog (maybe).

you shuffled down the stairs. the sunlight was bright, streaming through every window you passed, no matter which side of the house you were on.

following the sounds of dishes rattling, you groaned your way into the kitchen and slid bonelessly into a chair at the bar. you threw a disdainful glance at the window, the persistent sound of someone mowing the lawn grating on your nerves.

"isn't it too early to be up? what time is it, anyway?" you asked, rubbing your palm over your eyes and blinking at your mother where she stood at the stove.

“you know it’s the yardman,” her voice lilting with good-natured sarcasm. she pulled a plate from the cupboard, "want some eggs while i'm dishing?"

you hummed, not really sure if your stomach was ready for food yet, but ended up nodding anyway. "okay."

your mother scooped a tall pile of scrambled eggs onto a plate, topped them with a piece of buttered toast that slid off the eggs. she slid it toward you. as soon as the scent of the breakfast wafted around you, your salivary glands kicked in, ravenous.

you’d shoveled several bites into your mouth, pausing to rip off pieces of cooling toast. “thank you for this," you mumbled around another mouthful of food.

your mother smiles, her wrinkles prominent and jutting in her skin. she pulls bottled water from the fridge, and quickly foils an egg sandwich placing it next to you. “who’s this for?” you pick up the sandwich, warm off the cool marble. “the yardman, he’s been working on the lawn since six.” you shoot her a petulant look letting the foiled food drop on the bar. your mother unties her apron pulling it off her neck. “give it to him will you? i’ll be back i have errands to run.”

you groan at your mother shoving more egg into your mouth sulking at the thought of having to step outside.

•

you slide the glass doors open, stepping onto the patio searching for the man. your father pays this man to landscape, garden and even clean the pool. you’ve caught glimpses of him here and there but you’ve never spoken to him. in hand is a dripping water bottle, the condensation leaks down your wrist onto your elbow and you wipe at it stepping bare onto the grass. you hear the sound of mowing still, this time near your side of the house where your room resides. you move through the grass peaking out from the corner of the house which shields you.

you see him there, pushing the lawnmower. he’s in a fitted tank top, tattoos galore they peak out from his chest littering his flexed arms. his overgrown curls are falling onto his face, and he lets out pants rubbing the sweat from his forehead onto his jeans. you hope he sees you and stops the mower as you’re not too keen on yelling over it. the man moves the mower closer to the clean patches of fresh grass that you occupy and quickly turns off the motor. you step closer to him awkwardly in your pajamas his food in hand.

“my mom made this for you,” you step closer to the man. he’s scanning your body for a long while until he speaks up. “thank you,” he clears his throat taking the items from your hand. when he takes the breakfast you wipe the last droplets off your arm, feeling exposed in your shorts. “um - yeah,” you gulp taking a step back. “you’re welcome.” you choke out backing away from the man’s gaze hopefully in the direction of the sliding door leading inside. you watch his lips turn into a crooked grin, twisting the bottle cap’s seal open.

•

“mom what’s his name anyway,” you snort out. your hand is cupping your chin in support as you look out the screen window. your mother is hunched over struggling to pull dinner out of the oven with mitts. she sighs asking you to set out a board to place the rotisserie on. “who hun?” you hop off the bar stool to rummage through the bottom cupboards for a board. you find a wooden one sliding it onto the marble in front of your mom as she places dinner on it to cool. she discards her mitts into the drawer, digging for cutlery. “the man that works on the yard,” you spit out trying to hide your embarrassment. you pick at your lips knawing at them raw. “i think it’s matthew? matty? maybe, i don’t know your father knows.” she shrugs stabbing into the chicken’s breast.

you nod releasing your lips from your teeth.

•

the next morning you awaken to the lul of the lawnmower. you scowl rolling out of bed and the sun meets you just as you push your curtains out of the way. you squint letting your eyes adjust to the man, he’s pushing the mower towards your window. he has sunglasses on today, and you’re confused as to why he’s mowing the lawn for the second time this week. you bang on your window catching his attention as he continues trudging the mower across the grass with a grin.

you roll your eyes stomping to the screen door in the kitchen quickly sliding it open to find him obnoxiously mowing parts of the grass closest to your window. “do you mind?” you shout at him from the patio. he flicks his sunglasses up revealing his daunting stare accompanied with a seamy smile. “im sorry, princess did i wake you?” he taunts as he tucks his glasses in the plaid pocket letting them hang from his button up. you roll your eyes crossing your arms over your breasts, “it’s rude you know? mowing right next to my window when i’m sleeping. my daddy is paying you after all.” your lips part with a huff scanning his attire.

hes covered in grass clippings and sweat. the bits cover his neck and arms that are freckled with sun spots. he’s dressed in denim and a wife beater under his green plaid which tucks into his jeans. his hair is scattered with grey along with some stubble coming in. you can tell he’s taking you in as well. his stare is gaping tearing into your heart and heat. you squeeze your legs together, and he stays staring with a knowing grin. “your daddy is paying me to clean up the yard, not worry about interrupting your beauty sleep.” he emphasizes the word daddy and you feel your heat pool from inside. you can feel the wrinkles on your forehead form and you squeeze your arms tighter around your chest before huffing.

“whatever, i’ll just tell my dad to fire your ass.” you mumble under your breath turning to the sliding door. you hear matty start up the motor with a whir and it’s running. he starts trudging forward with a grin, “counting on it,” he calls out over the mower. you step inside letting the cool tile invade your soles. you spin around furiously slamming the sliding door pulling the curtain leaving matty in the heat outside.

•

the next day matty is there as expected, tending to the pool. he’s scooping insects and weed clippings from the water tossing them overhead. you decided to go out for some rays with a book you’ve been putting off for a while. you rest in the chair nearest to the pool, holding the book open to your face. the words melt into your head overwhelmed by matty’s constant scooping and plopping of the pool net. “will you quit that?” you call out placing the book on your abdomen shielding your face from the sun. “it’s annoying.” you complain and matty’s on the other side of the pool just dipping the net back in, he clicks his tongue continuing.

you groan loudly, shutting your eyes listening to matty dip and splash around the pool’s surface. he moves across the pool at this time nearer to you and you take a look at him. he’s in his usual uniform a tank top and denim nothing too special. you watch his tattoo’s in the sun and his arms flex with every dip. matty turns with a grin over his shoulder knowingly - he’s got you. your skin prickles with unexpected excitement and you find the silence filled with your heart pounding in your throat.

matty takes a look at your splayed body, almost freshly tan in the tiniest bikin he’s ever seen. he’s an older man, the looks feel dirty coming from him. his toothy grin says it all when he leaves your side. he takes the tool out of the pool walking across the lawn to the tool shed.

the shed was tucked away in the corner of your backyard always forgotten by your father and mother. you watch matty make his way over opening the shed to rummage through it with clashes.

you lift yourself up off the chair, letting your toes touch the pavement of the side of the pool. matty’s left the shed door open and you peer into it from where you sit just across the yard. you lift yourself off the chair scurrying over to the freshly cut grass, the pieces gather on your ankles tickling you. almost skipping over to the shed you pry inside and matty finds you. he lunges at you slamming you against the other side of the shed, it rattles with a few tools falling over behind matty as he swings the door shut.

“fuckin’ slut, think you can prance around in this?” matty hooks a finger in your bottoms pulling at the bow letting it snap back to your hip. you wince bracing your chest with a whine. your heat pools, as matty holds your hips pinching at them harshly. he pulls at your bikini top almost ripping it off you and you hold onto the fabric writhing with him. he tugs at the middle of the bikini with a finger watching it snap back with your tits. “your body’s perfect.” he latches onto your neck trailing kisses never daring to leave a mark.

your legs squeeze together for pressure and matty tuts prying them open with his knee. he grins, pulling at the bows of your bottoms watching them drop to the plywood floor. he slides his fingers across your opening watching your face light up and your body fall into his. he lets a finger slide in working his way into you slowly. “fuckin’ wet cunt, wet for me?” he breathes out sliding another finger in and you’re moaning, hiding in his neck. his fingers slip out of you leaving you vacant as you huff. matty gives your cunt a slap, then another and you yelp. “whats that for?!” you cry out and your pussy clenches.

you tremble and he pulls his hand away to slap your pussy again. “you like me doing this, huh?” he swipes at your puffy clit, finally giving you what you’ve been wanting. “tell me, princess. you had a lot to say just now,” he refers to the pool and you shake your head while matty takes your jaw puppeteering you to look at him. he squeezes your lips together with pressure, “come on,” he clicks his tongue swiping faster.

“i- fuck. i love it” you mutter out disjointedly, “and what else?” he cocks his eyebrows holding back a grin. “‘m sorry,” you sputter out finally and matty’s fingers leave your clit. you cry at the feeling, just as you’re about to finish all over his hand - he stops.

he takes a step back unbuckling his belt with force letting it jingle for a while until he’s undone his button and zipper. he looks at you smugly “you wanna cum? get on your knees,” he slides his jeans down with his boxers cupping his erection. you’re surprised but still you fall to your knees where you stand, almost on fours crawling to matty’s feet where you sit back on your achilles tendons. he’s pushing his cock at your nose and lips letting it take the tint off your lips. you sit there with your hands on your knees looking up at him diligently waiting for him, as he’s pumping his cock in front of you.

you watch him slide his hand back and forth thumbing at his tip, groaning. you pout with your prettiest whine sticking your pink tongue out flashing it at matty. he breathes out pushing his cock onto your face again and you oblige opening your mouth sticking out your tongue for him. he slaps his cock onto your tongue pushing it back into your mouth. “put this dirty mouth to use,” he stifles out hitting the back of your throat and your throat rejects him sabotaging you. matty coos petting your head as his cock twitches in your mouth finding it’s space in between your swirling tongue. his hands end up at the back of your head slowly pushing his cock back into your mouth deeper, “dirty girl,” he moans and you gag again tears forming in your eyes. matty starts bucking slowly into your mouth holding your head in place. with every buck your throat rejects his cock until you’ve grown used to it, you start swirling your tongue at his length when you can and his hips stifle sloppily pushing into your mouth even more. you try your best to open wide, your jaw is slack and sore you almost think it’s locked with how long you’ve had it open.

your tears are dry now because matty swiped them away as soon as they came sliding down your scarlet cheeks. “you take this cock well,” matty grunts out slowing down for your poor mouth. you’re drooling at the sides of your mouth and you feel shame as it drops to your knees. “taking my cock in the shed like a whore, fuckin’ perfect,” matty’s words make you whine and he’s shuddering inside your mouth from the vibrations of your moans “gonna make me come, god” matty’s head falls back with his mouth ajar and your heart races with anticipation. you start bobbing your head eagerly letting matty’s hands fall in your hair gently grasping at it. you watch matty’s face contort with a whine releasing into your mouth, your eyes widen pulling him out of your mouth immediately to taste his cum.

your jaw is aching, pounding almost and you roll matty’s cum onto your tongue to show him proudly. he’s still in a haze looking down at your face, ruined as you swallow his cum. he stands you up reaching down with his calloused hand tugging at your jaw and you oblige standing to your feet. you look down at your knees, they’re wobbly and raw from the wood of the shed’s flooring. you wince and matty pulls you in for a peck, “poor girl,” he whispers pushing you back onto a work bench. the bench rattles with your father’s tools and matty grins. he guides you to flip over, pushing the rest of your body down onto the splintered wood.

matty squeezes at your waist and hips pawing at your ass giving it a strike. you whine eagerly standing on your tiptoes poking your ass out further and matty chuckles grabbing a handful of you to guide himself in. with his other hand he takes his cock to tease your slit, he staggers only clutching your ass tighter. “so wet, princess” matty mumbles under his breath, only for him to hear but it travels to your ears then straight to your gushing heat.

you anticipate matty’s length as he slowly pushes inside your entrence, you tense and he pinches your hips meanly. he drives himself into you and you gasp adjusting to him pressing your body against the split wood of the table. your legs buckle together and matty starts digging into your cunt, it’s sloppy and wet with him slipping out each time he pulls his cock back. matty observes his cock, slick with your heat before pushing it back in acquiring a moan from you. “fuck me, please.” you cry pressing onto matty’s front in desperation.

he smiles, “so drunk for this cock, i’m already inside you, princess” he growls draping over your body. matty’s buzzing and you jut your ass back at him to start moving. he removes himself from your backside, groaning when he starts drilling into you again. your fingers turn white pressing onto the table in desperation for something to hold onto. “what would your daddy do if he found me doing this to you?” he hums, grabbing a handful of your hair. your head rushes with humiliation and you clench around matty’s cock. “probably fire me, right? you’d never get fucked like this again.” you think about what it would be like to get caught and your body sinks. your father’s little girl turned into a whore by the yardman.

“your little body’s begging for me,” matty’s ramblings snaps you out of your thoughts as he pulls your hair gently and you’re whining again, letting him do as he pleases. “cunt is aching for me, can feel it” he hisses tugging on your hair and this time you cry out. “god, angel you like when i talk to you like this?” matty chokes out repeatedly slamming into you and you try to nod in agreement “makes me feel dirty,” you whimper and matty snickers letting your hair go tracing his fingers over your neck then your tits. he quickly squeezes at them in their covering letting his fingers trace across your ribs gently. your body itches with bliss, as you find a way to dig yourself deeper into the tool table to present yourself to matty.

“wanna come,” you babble matty’s name and his hand slides down to your clit while fucking into you. he swipes diligently pushing you over the edge as you cry out into the shed’s interior. you feel yourself cum all over matty’s cock and he growls “came all over this cock, good girl.” he keeps pumping into you, rubbing at your bud and you spasm out of sensitivity. “stop, stop, please -“ you smother another moan as matty surrenders leaving your clit alone. your body isn’t coming down as matty still bucks into you with sputtering hips. he lasts not even a minute longer slipping out of your cunt to cum onto your backside. you feel hot spurts on your lower back and you look over your shoulder to see matty fisting his cock for what’s left. he sighs contentedly spotting the cum on your back as he lifts up his boxers tucking his cock into his underwear then jeans.

he scavenges for your bottoms on the floor and you turn to him as he hands them to you. he watches you slip back into them tying the bows on each side. putting the bottoms back on feel dirty, especially with matty’s orgasm all over your back. you frown at him and he steps towards you, petting your head. he runs his fingers through your knotty hair clasping the back of your head for a peck on your forehead. matty hums massaging your head, “sweet girl,” as he plants another kiss unraveling his hand from your hair. he steps back taking a deep look at you before he leaves,

“tell your daddy,” he hesitates grinning, only to tease you. “that i’ll be here at six tomorrow morning to tend to the weeds out front.”

#matty healy #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy smut #the 1975 smut #matty healy x you #matty healy fic #the 1975 fanfic #this is trash fuck

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nyctophiliq · 3 months

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your upcoming vale + laswell threesome got me thinking, thinking real hard

welcome to ep 2 of 🪭's depraved thoughts!!

cw: dacryphillia, overstim, praise, light degradation? good cop/bad cop domme dynamics (?) /////////

you're sat on kate's face, ass facing her with your face stuffed into a pillow resting on her thighs as she suckles and licks and laps at your clit like she's a woman finding a desert oasis, her hands wrapped firmly around your waist. occasionally she mumbles little praises into the tortured bud, pressing gentle kisses right to the tip of it after every word. you're too far gone to understand what she's saying.

"so good for me, mhm, yes you are"

"just like that, yeah, buck your hips, just for me"

and vale's there behind you, her strap sliding in and out of your messy little cunt, groaning like she can feel you through the silicone. she's holding onto your hips, the complete opposite of kate beneath you with the wickedest smirk on her face. she's ignoring every single mewl and plea and sob for her to go slower, to let up the absolutely punishing pace, reveling in the way you claw and grip onto the sheets with knuckles whiter than paper.

"what was that, querida? i couldn't hear you with your face pushed into the pillow." "c'mon neña- oh no, is that a tear I see? too fucked out to respond? tsk tsk, I should punish you for that"

-🪭 (screaming into my bed currently)

and i once again bow down before 🪭 anon because OH MY GOD THIS MADE MY MORNING also a big thank you for keeping my blog alive with this juice post 🪭 anon

the bad cop, good cop dynamic between kate and valeria would be such a real thing in a way that they would mock each other during too, but that would be their game yk? two very powerful women sharing poor little, oh so helpless you.

laswell is such a caring woman, pampers you like a little kid, and is very much the person to spank you if you did something bad because no matter how much she hates to see you crying, the more she likes hearing you sobbing. sit in her lap, burry your face into her shoulder and let your tears fall, murmur nonsense and you will have her so eager to have her fingers in you, or start moving your hips so your cunt rubs against her thighs. oh poor little you, don't worry, mommy kate is here and everything's gonna be alright. she wants to hear you cry, so she pinches and twists your skin but soothes you soon after, just to rub it into valeria's face when she steps inside the room that she couldn't hear your sweet cries.

the two of them are equally as powerful, but valeria loves to show it not by just the way she makes you feel but how she handles you. she is the top of the food chain, the ultimate predator and you are her prey. she will hunt you, lurk behind you and catch you off guard just to drag you to the bedroom and gloat to laswell about what a stupid little girl like you were so easy to catch. overstimulation, taking all the scratching and biting, putting up with you fighting back when you're so overstimulated you are on the verge of passing out but still have that one little sliver of energy to try and escape her hold.

it's no secret that they would have a silent competition between themselves about who can tear you apart the fastest.

#✉️ — received letters !#✮ 🪭 anon #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza x reader smut #kate laswell x reader #kate laswell x reader smut

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wardenparker · 5 months

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Vampire Waltz - ch 11

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Not many warnings this chapter, just a lot of emotions running high and a fair bit of lying for the sake of keeping secrets. Summary: Your first day in the past with Max is full of emotional moments and surprises, but nothing more surprising than a revelation shared with Eddie and Allison back in your own time. Notes: Hello and welcome to the Gilded Age!! It's been so exciting to see how many of you gleefully jumped into the deep-end with us on this plot twist and I hope you enjoy! This week's Chateau-sur-Mer room on display is Eddie's room 💛

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10

It is Mrs. Taylor who wakes you with a gentle knock on the door the next morning, bearing an arm full of clothing for each of you. Max had been resting with his eyes closed, holding you close while you slept, but his eyes opened immediately at the sound. "Good morning," she greets you both with a nod as she hustles into the room, shutting it behind her. "I brought you some things. To help you to blend in. Mr. Brown has arranged for each of you to be measured and fitted today, if you will be kind enough to go into town just after luncheon. He has sent orders to have wardrobes made that will be fitting for members of his family." It isn't her place to comment on the decision or the certainty with which the word 'family' was used, but she follows her orders to the letter.

Max sits up, shirtless and nods. “Mr. Brown is a gracious host.” He is almost giddy at the prospect of tailored suits, considering it’s so hard to have one made during his time. He’s looking forward to the trip to town. “Would you help my wife dress?” He has no clue how to dress you and he’s not sure if you know either.

"Of course." Mrs. Taylor agrees to the request easily, considering she had already but told to do so, but sets down the clothing on the nearby chaise for a moment while you rise from bed in your odd clothing. "After this morning, Mr. Brown has tasked Miss Annie's maid Renee with seeing to your wife. I hope that is acceptable."

It’s a struggle not to show that he recognizes the name, but he manages. “As long as it does not interfere with her duties to Miss Annie.” He takes the borrowed clothes for him and strides behind the privacy screen. He doesn’t care about you seeing him, but this is a different time and he doesn’t wish to offend Mrs. Taylor.

"Of course not, sir." While this particular morning is outside of her own normal duties, that does not concern her much. The staff of this particular house is far more efficient than any other in the community for their ability to work hard without the need for substantial rest or food. Losing a few minutes to dressing a young lady hardly affects her schedule.

Max dresses quickly, approving of how well his sires' clothes fit him and sets out from around the screen with only his boots left to put on. They are his modern shoes, but no one will notice.

The layers that Mrs. Taylor helps you put on seem endless. Chemise. Corset. Bustle. Petticoats. Corset cover. All these underlayers have to go on before she can even button you into the outer shell of the dress, but once you have the soft green and dark brown dress on in all its complicated glory, it's...oddly comfortable. The corset redistributes the weight of the dress and underlayers so that it isn't too heavy on any part of you, and the layers are all surprisingly thin but so much cotton adds up to a very warm outfit. The chill of the fall weather won't get very far at all, especially not with the wool stockings you have on underneath it all to cushion your feet in the neatly laced leather boots that somehow fit you perfectly. They must be your grandmother's -- that's the only explanation you can come up with, knowing how well some other pieces of her wardrobe fit you in your own time.

“You look….” Max’s eyes are wide, slowly taking in your very prim exterior. He had never expected to have such an attraction to the Victorian style, but he finds that it’s very becoming on you. “Exquisite.” He manages. “It’s as big as a ball gown.”

"Hush." The warmth in your cheeks belies the tone in your voice though, seeing the slow way Max surveys you up and down like some kind of precious gem. "You look very handsome as well." The suit that was brought for him is simple but well-made, and even though you have no idea whether or not it's in fashion, he looks like the romantic lead of a BBC period drama come to life and you are absolutely here for it.

“So you’re allowed to compliment me, but I can’t say how attractive my wife is?” He huffs at you playfully and shakes his head. “That will not be cool at all.”

The term is unfamiliar to Mrs. Taylor but she tactfully does not react at all, simply nodding to you and Max in the doorway. "Breakfast will be served in the dining room in fifteen minutes," she informs you before disappearing again. "You look like Mr. Wickham," you tell Max with a grin, doubtful that he'll get the reference but not really caring. "Dashing and handsome, and a little bit like trouble."

“Mr. Wickham.” He looks at you in utter offense, huffing. “I am no wastrel, I’ll have you know.” He grins back at you to show he’s teasing, and holds out his arm to you. “I’m Darcy, of course.”

"Hmm, maybe you're right." Taking his arm is soothing and grounded, reminding you that no matter how crazy this situation is, he's right here with you. "Alli and Eddie are definitely our Jane and Bingley, after all."

“Yes, they are.” He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Obvious to everyone but them that they were crazy about each other.”

"I think it's sweet." Their enthusiasm for each other has been endearing, and a pang of missing your friends makes your heart ache but you have no choice other than to shake it off. "And it looks like we'll have some very, very interesting stories for them when we get home."

“Yes we will.” The dining room is straight ahead and he reaches over and pats your hand. “Are you ready to get to know her in ways you never imagined?” Max asks, not wanting to say ‘your mother’ in case she has hearing like a vampire.

"I'm nervous," you admit, knowing that this is an enormously big deal for only you. Max has no emotional stakes in this meeting, but you have them in spades. "What...wh-what if she doesn't like me?"

“There’s no way that would ever happen.” Of that, he is confident. You are amazing, even if you don’t see it.

"You're biased." It's bolstering, though. It makes you feel a little bit like you have a champion on your side to help square your shoulders when they start to round down again. "But I hope you're right."

“I know I’m right, babe.” He tells you cockily, sending you an air kiss. “They are both going to love you.”

"I hope so." A soft nod is what you can manage right now, knowing that beyond that doorway are two women who have been completely lost to you for so much of your life. "I really hope so."

“I’m with you.” Max promises. “After this, we will see how you dance in that dress of yours.”

"With really big swishes." That is a welcome thought, though, and you revel in the idea of dancing with him becoming so normal that it can happen pretty much anywhere. It has you smiling again, and visibly relaxing, and you nod to Max before gently squeezing his arm. "Okay. Let's do this." The dining room table has been laid with fine China. There are five places set and five chairs, while the sideboard is filled with piping hot serving pieces full of all manner of breakfast items. Tea and coffee and a third carafe that you have to assume is blood are all set out on the opposite wall where a footman stands at attention waiting to pour.

Max glances at you, wondering if it’s a reprieve that your mother and grandmother aren’t down yet. He hums as he guides you towards the table, deciding that he would set you on the opposite side from the door so you can see them when they come in. “At least there is coffee and tea, right?”

"And more, it looks like." You nod toward the third carafe. "Good morning." The next figure to sweep into the room is your grandfather, and he sets himself down at the head of the table without hesitation. "I trust you had a restful night?"

“She slept through the night.” Max answers with a polite nod. “Thank you for the clothes as well. It will be better to blend in.”

“Indeed.” He nods, not reacting at all when the footman in the room steps forward to fill first his coffee cup and then his drinking glass with blood. “The appointment to make your wardrobes is essential. We are throwing a ball in just a week’s time and you must be properly attired.”

Max winces when the blood is poured into a wine glass and when the footman comes around the table, he covers the glass. “Please pour it into the coffee cup.” He instructs.

The footman says nothing but nods and adjusts the angle of his pour once he is standing beside Max. “Your room is comfortable?” Yayo asks. He knows that his staff works hard but he also knows that humans are particular.

Max looks over at you for the answer. Knowing that you were the one sleeping, although he was comfortable as he laid with you. “My dear?”

“Very comfortable,” you assure him quickly.

“Good.” He nods and gives a pleased smile. “The gold room has a special fondness for me.”

“Oh?” Whatever stories your grandfather is willing to share are wonderfully welcome. Only for a moment do you find yourself distracted by the appearance of the footman, who pours tea for you when you indicate your preference.

“Cookie and I spent nearly a year exploring the far East.” He tells you with a soft sigh as he leans back in the opulent chair. “When she had fallen in love with that bed, we bought it and had it shipped back.”

“It’s very beautiful.” Even before now you had thought so. Even considered asking to have it moved to your bedroom on the second floor. But you had decided that that would be an immense thing to ask for and instead started dreaming of one day having visitors who might use the room.

“Our daughter was conceived in that bed.” He admits with a small smirk and raised brow as he stares at the two of you. As if expecting you to say that you are also expecting a joyous occasion after one night in that bed.

“Is that…so?” It’s a little more than you need to know, considering that’s your mother he’s talking about, but it’s still worth noting. With everything you’ve been finding out about your family and your magic lately, who knows if it means something or not.

Nodding, he’s amused by your reaction. You are not timid, you dress far too boldly for that, but you are slightly embarrassed by the idea. Further cementing the truth that you are his granddaughter in his mind. “My wife and daughter should be downstairs shortly. They are not exactly morning people.”

“No…” A slip of a memory runs through your mind and you smile. Your mother dragging herself downstairs in her robe with a yawn only to find that your father had already made her coffee for her. “No…that seems to be true no matter what the age.”

“Since she was a babe.” He chuckles softly. “A fortuitous arrangement, considering that I do not sleep. So I could be up late into the night with her when she was fussy. My wife and I did not allow a nurse to care for her.”

“A fairly unusual choice, but I can see why.” Not knowing how much can or cannot be said around the house staff in this time, you just smile and politely add, “She must have been a rare child. And very loved.”

Everyone in this house is aware of what his child is and he nods. “We are free to speak of all issues but yours,” he tells you meaningfully. “The staff are all vampires. Easier than explaining to humans.”

“I see.” Well, that certainly explains how things are the way they are in the future. When your staff never ages or dies, there’s no need to change them. “That certainly does simplify things.”

“Quite.” He agrees. “The coven and social circles provide Cookie with human companionship when she so desires.”

“I know the Newport coven to be full of kind and caring women.” Of course, it might not be entirely true now, you don’t know for sure. But in your time? Those women became your friends as easily as breathing.

“Then the reputation of the coven has endured over the years.” He hums. “There were some turbulent years, but Cookie is not one to deal with much foolishness.”

“It is my understanding that she is very much beloved.” Before you have the chance to say more, you spot two women approaching from the great hall and nearly swallow your tongue. Your mother looks nearly identical to how you remember her, with the biggest difference being just her style. You remember a woman with short hair and a fondness for berry-tone lipstick, who wore dresses only on the most special of occasions. This version of her blends perfectly into the time, with none of her natural features tempered by makeup, her long hair swept up into a complicated style, and the gown on her frame affixed perfectly to make her look as elegant as a flower in soft pink. Memories of your grandmother have been coming back — many as dreams — since the spell that kept them from your mind seemed to break apart. And now that you are in a different time it seems as though the veil over your mind has been lifted entirely. Your abuela looks just as you remember her as well, all dressed up as she liked to be, with a twinkle of mischief in her eye and a perpetual smile tucked into the corner of her mouth. As though she were intending to save it for later.

“John, you didn’t mention we had guests when you came downstairs.” Her tone is apologetic as she sails into the room and to the seat that is at her husband’s elbow. “My apologies for seemingly ignoring your arrival.”

“Not at all, my dear.” He softens measurably when he looks at her, and seems to forget everything else in the room for that moment. “Some family arrived late last night. One of my sons, and his young bride. I insisted they stay on with us.”

“Oh?” Her eyes brighten and she glances back at the two of you with a warm smile. “Then welcome. I must assume that your bride is breathing?” She asks curiously as she tilts her head. The footman brings the coffee over and pours her a cup silently.

“Max’s wife is as you and Annie are,” he informs his own wife and daughter politely. Just because they can speak freely in the house does not mean he will be crude.

“Delightful.” She nods and turns towards you with a smirk on her face. “Perhaps you will be willing to take tea with me this afternoon, then?” She asks. “John has some business to attend to and my daughter is expecting a caller.”

“I would be delighted.” Tea time has become a sacred ritual for you because of Mrs. Taylor and your grandmother. To actually sit down to tea with her is a privilege higher than you can articulate.

“Lovely.” She smiles at you and then looks over at Annie. “This is my daughter, Annie. She’s normally more engaging than this, but she’s not had her cup of coffee yet.”

“I fully sympathize.” And having seen your mother before coffee on many, many occasions, you expected nothing less. Even so, it’s the seeing her again that has you struggling to hide emotion. “And I’m…I’m very glad to meet you, Annie.”

Her smile is polite and tired. “Forgive me.” She begs. “I become more social as the meal continues but I mean no offense.” She takes a sip of her coffee and sighs. “I believe I should have been an owl.”

“There is a certain magic in seeing sunrise at its beginning instead of its end. The nighttime can have magic in its own right.” At least, that’s what you’ve always thought. Hopefully it doesn’t sound cheesy.

She perks up slightly and nods. “Yes, you are right.” You seem so familiar but she cannot place where she knows you from.

“You seem to be two peas in a pod,” Cookie observes, seemingly delighted by that revelation.

“Do you only have the one child?” Max asks, hoping to draw out more information for you to soak up about your family while you are here. “Or is she the youngest of the group?”

“We only have our darling Anne.” Cookie beams at her daughter as the two of them pick up their plates to serve their own breakfast at the side table and you follow suit. “She is our entire world, I am happy to say.”

There needs to be a conversation about how he can reproduce and other vampires cannot. Max hums. “That is good. We thought to have one, maybe two.”

“Children are an infinite blessing.” While the three mortal women are serving themselves breakfast, the man known as Mr. Brown smiles at the son he barely knows. “An unpredictable and bewildering blessing.”

“I’m sure that we will discover that blessing for ourselves sometime in the near future.” Max wonders if the child you and he will have will be more vampiric or more like you.

“Most families like ours are not so blessed.” Cookie smiles at her husband. “But we have been lucky. And you will be too, I think.”

“Hopefully so.” It’s a truthful answer. He had always assumed that he couldn’t have kids since he was technically dead. Since learning that it was possible, he’s been imagining a little girl that looks just like you, but her favorite parent is him.

“I think my husband has hopes he has not yet shared with me.” It's impossible to deny how much you like calling Max that, and you break out into a smile when you come back to the table with your plate. “Not that I mind, of course.”

“Dolly, you know that I am your willing servant.” Max hums dramatically. “If you wish to be childless and not go through the pain, we will have our friends and my vampiric offspring to surround ourselves with.”

“Not at all.” In fact, it warms you straight to the bone that he has even thought of a family with you. The fleeting thought is far more than you’ve allowed yourself, but now the fantasy seems to jump fully formed from his mind to your heart. “I think it’s very sweet.”

Mad smirks and takes a sip of his blood in the tea cup. “That’s me, my dear.” He teases. “Sweet.”

“You certainly seem to be.” Cookie offers with a polite smile. “May I ask how long you have been married?”

“Recent.” Max laughs, picking up your hand and kissing it. “Very recent. Yesterday as a matter of fact.”

“Truly?” Annie perks up at that, returning with her plate to the seat on your other side. “How romantic!”

“Yes, we were suddenly overcome with the need to marry.” Max sighs softly. “Her parents do not approve of me - I was reluctant to share my true nature with them and they found me odd.”

“So you eloped?” This seems to appeal to Annie even more, and she sighs dreamily at the sheer romance of it all. “What utter devotion.”

“I would not spend eternity without the other half of my soul.” Max nods and leans over to kiss your hand.

"Soulmates." It is your grandmother who sighs this time, and for the moment your extended family seems utterly besotted with the idea as you and Max share a sweet smile. "Well," Cookie's expression is wholeheartedly maternal. "You must stay with us as long as you need to settle yourselves and begin this next chapter of your lives. Mr. Brown may be able to help you find a new home, or lend you the ear of our architect if you choose to build."

“That is a very gracious offer.” Max didn’t expect much else, but it’s honestly a relief. He doesn’t know anything about this time and to be around his sire and your family will help him relax. He knows that they will help protect you. “We humbly accept with our thanks.”

"It is very kind of you." There was a lot more tension in your shoulders than you realized, and when they drop it's out of full relief rather than anything else. Since you have no idea how to get home, there is a remote possibility that you're going to have to buck up and make a life here in...whatever year it is.

“Think nothing of it.” Your grandfather assures you. “There is nothing like having family while you are starting out and you are now family.”

******

You find out quickly that the planning you have been doing for the Samhain Masquerade at home pales in comparison to the levels of planning that Cookie has been doing for her own. There is a small ball to be held in two days time -- something your grandmother refers to rather affectionately as a dinner dance but sounds to you to be an enormous undertaking, and then the full-blown Halloween masquerade in a few weeks time. From the look of the menus she is sifting through in the green salon and the sound of the dresses that are being made as well as the decor and band being hired? It's very clear that you have been planning a dinner dance for Samhain and not a full-blown ball. Maybe you ought to be taking notes, as you sit near your grandmother with a book and she bustles through her papers, but all you can do is watch in awe.

“Lobster bisque with a curried quail or roasted prawns and lamb with mint cream?” She asks, looking up as she decides between the two menus that appeal the most. “I don’t think that I care for the tomato custard with beef shank.”

“Prawns and lamb, I think?” Not ever having eaten quail before, you don’t feel safe recommending it over something else. “Or…that is what I would choose. Although, if you are fond of curry, it is delicious with lamb as well.”

“We will have to have a tasting menu, I believe.” She decides, finding your idea intriguing. “We will have both menus and your curried lamb. Do you have a recipe for Mrs. Taylor? Or just use a curry like with the quail?”

“I actually do have a recipe…” It might be a little too intense for Gilded Age palettes, or it might go over like gangbusters. There’s no way to tell. “I can write it out for you, if you like.”

“If you would not mind.” She asks with a smile, tilting her head imploringly.

"Of course not." The recipe had been your mother's, in fact, and now you can't help but wonder if this is how it made its way into your family in the first place. "It would be my pleasure."

“Delightful.” Cookie beams at you and offers a pen and paper. “We will have Mrs. Taylor make the menus for dinner tonight.”

"I hope very much that you will all like it." Writing with this pen is going to be a nightmare, but you valiantly dip the nib in the ink pot that she offers you and begin to write out the recipe as you remember it from cooking with your mother.

“I am sure that it will become a family favorite.” She predicts, watching you scribble. “You have such unique technique with the pen.” Cookie offers. “Do you often write letters?”

Unique technique. You almost snort at the way your grandmother politely calls out the fact that you can barely write with such a common instrument. "I did not have many people to write to," you tell her by way of neatly avoiding the question. It's not like you can explain texting.

“I see.” Her heart aches for you, finding you a wonderfully charming young woman. Reminding her so much of her own daughter that she feels very protective of you. “Well, if you and Max decide to settle elsewhere, I insist that we exchange letters.”

"I truly doubt that we will, but if it ever does happen, I hope to share many letters between us." That box of letters from her is at the forefront of your mind, and the smile on your face ends up slightly bittersweet before you remember that you're here. Here with her and with your mother.

Cookie interprets the slightly sad smile as a remembrance of your family. Perhaps you still mourn their lack of acceptance of your life. “Don’t worry, my dear.” She reaches out and pats your hand. “Family has a way of coming back to you.”

"More than anyone could possibly know." And that brings your smile back to a much brighter place instantly. "Perhaps my life with my husband will have many more surprises in store."

“Men, especially vampires, are always full of surprises.” Cookie trills and shakes her head fondly. “Even when he drives me to wail, there’s no one I would rather spend my life with than John.” She admits and reaches out to take your hand. “Max has explained that he can lengthen your life, correct? A mortal existence is just but a blink of an eye to a vampire.”

"It has not been the subject of a long conversation yet, but I do know of the possibility." You can't tell her that you know about it because of her, but it doesn't matter either way. The fact is that you'll eventually have to talk to Max about it. "But he cannot tell me if it hurts. Or if it has any other...effects."

“There is no pain involved.” Cookie assures you, happy to share the information she possesses with the wife of another vampire so close to her soulmate. “Truly, you only need to drink but a drop of his blood every day. Just a drop. I know that partaking of their…habits, sounds unsettling, but it is masked wonderfully by a cup of coffee.”

"Really?" It hadn't seemed like it should be that simple, and you tilt your head at her with a small laugh. "I expected it to be far more...dramatic. They are terribly dramatic men, after all."

“Lord, they are.” She joins in the laughter, her own bright and vivacious. “John has a flare for it and it seems he chooses others with that same inclination to change.” She huffs. “As far as effect….you will feel stronger, be stronger. I have such horrid eyesight but since I’ve been partaking in my soulmate’s blood, my eyes are perfect.”

"The strength that it lends them...we get some of it as well?" Truth be told, you hadn't considered that before. But it makes perfect sense now that you hear it out loud.

“Most of the favorable attributes we would share with them.” She explains. “However, we will never have their full strength.” She sighs. “But it does have one ill effect.”

"That seems only fair." A nod of your head asks her to go on, willing to hear whatever unsavory side effects this otherwise magical situation.

“You…” Cookie leans in, cupping her hands around her mouth as if she were telling a secret. “Have horrible smelling body functions.”

It's so unexpected that you sort of freeze, feeling like time has slowed to a surreal whirl, right before you burst out in the most unladylike laughter of your life. "Is that all?" You manage, gasping for some semblance of control between guffaws. "Why--we deal with that on a monthly basis anyway. That hardly seems to make a difference at all!"

“I suppose so.” She straightens and wrinkles her nose. “John sometimes cannot be around me, the smell is too much for his sensitive nose.”

"That seems almost useful," you joke, still laughing harder than you can control. "It gives some time alone, doesn't it?"

She stares at you for a moment and then gives a very un-ladylike snort. “I suppose you are correct, Dolly.” She muses, finding your way of thinking refreshingly bright.

"There is nothing wrong with a little solitude now and then." While you would never ask for it from Max, there are plenty of times when he's off doing other things and you fill your time on your own. That's just how life works.

“Individuals need to be free to pursue things that fulfill them.” She agrees. “My coven accepts John, but they also know he will not be there every time. Society does not know about his…nature.”

“You have been very lucky, I think.” With your grandmother’s hand still holding yours, it’s hard not to be overly emotional. There is something in your chest just aching to burst out but as long as you’re here you won’t be able to let it. Knowing even a small part of her story makes you feel oddly like the Grim Reaper in ways you dearly hate, but can’t ever show. “I hope the rest of the life you choose continues to be happy.”

“Even if it’s not, it will be my journey.” She hums softly, squeezing your hands gently. “Every journey, good and bad, teaches us. Helps us learn for the next life.”

“Maybe you’re right.” It’s such a bittersweet thing to hear from someone who has already begun their next life journey, but you offer her a smile and nod. “That is a soothing way to think of it.”

“Isn’t it?” She smiles softly. “The only problem is; I don’t know when John would meet up with me in the next life.” She admits. “Even though he is immortal, and very much older than I, we are joined in this life and every life we will have.”

“Then perhaps it is you who will find your way back to him?” You suggest, hoping it sounds as soothing to her ear as it feels to you. “And not the other way around? I know…whatever comes next…I will do everything I can to find my way back to Max.”

“Your paths have been destined to be intertwined.” Cookie sighs lovingly, her own eyes soft and dreamy. “Every person should find their soulmate and their happiness. Although the two are not mutually exclusive to one another.”

“I think that’s very important to remember.” And bittersweet, considering you know that it will be forgotten along the way. When your mother falls in love with a man who isn’t her soulmate. Well after that man is taken from her.

“Are you feeling peckish?” She asks after a moment. “I feel as if we should have some tea.”

“Tea is always welcome.” The morning seems to be that much longer when breakfast is served sharply at 7:30am, and with more than an hour left before luncheon, a cup of tea sounds perfect. Down the hall you can hear the soft sound of laughter and conversation from the library, and you can’t help but smile. Your mother’s laugh sounds so much more polite in this day and age. Which makes perfect sense, considering how young women were supposed to act. “Do you suppose Annie and her caller would join us? Or would that be imposing?”

“We can see.” She agrees with a small smirk on her face. “If she can drag herself away from Emmanuel long enough to take tea.”

It’s impossible not to stare when the name crosses your grandmother’s lips, realizing that the man your mother has been talking to in the library for more than a half hour (well over the societally-correct fifteen minutes) is her soulmate. The most you can manage is a weak “Oh?” Out of the need to make some sound.

“It seems as if he will be a regular caller.” She continues on, not noticing your reaction. “He is from a nice family and my husband is impressed with his business dealings.”

“So, it is a…a good match?” You remember Yayo speaking of it with fondness. Saying that your mother had loved her soulmate and that was why he had taken such drastic action. This seems like it is the very beginning of that attachment and your heart aches knowing what your mother has yet to go through.

“Very much so.” She nods. “My daughter is a very powerful witch and will take a strong man to stand by her side.”

“And a good one, I hope.” Never having met Emmanuel, you can’t say. But you’ve seen what strength looks like in good and bad men all your life. “Strength in a bad man can break even the strongest of women. Not help her.”

“You are right.” Cookie nods seriously. “It has happened before and it will happen again, I am sorry to say.”

“A tale as old as time, some would say.” Even if you hate yourself for the reference just a tiny bit, it’s too good to resist.

“Oftentimes the best of tales are older than time, just as some of the worst.” Cookie muses with a wry smile on her face. “I have seen time pass far more than most and I believe that to be true.”

“I will trust your word,” you tell her honestly. Your grandmother has seen far more of the world and far more of humanity than you have and you both know that even at face value. “My life has been sheltered until now, for better or for worse.”

“Then we will have to make sure that under the protective shield of your husband, you live the life you wish.” She promises.

“Then I suppose I ought to decide what it is that I wish for.” Whatever it is, it will have Max and it will have dancing. Anything else that life decides for you is still very much up in the air.

“Agreed.” She smirks slightly and her toe presses the button that is discreetly placed near the table leg by her chair. Allowing her to summon Mrs. Taylor.

Mere seconds later the vampire housekeeper arrives in the doorway of the drawing room with her hands folded and an expectant smile. “Ma’am?”

“Please ask Annie and her guest if they would join Dolly and myself for tea?” She asks, smiling at the housekeeper. “And we have a new recipe for you to try.”

“Of course, ma’am.” The recipe is a surprise, but Mrs. Taylor accepts the paper from Cookie with only a slight look of disbelief at the handwriting before she curtsies lightly and turns the corner toward the library.

“Shall we adjourn to the morning room?” She asks with a small smile. “Give the lovers a moment alone to discuss having to be around someone else?”

“It’s always a rude awakening. To have to remember that there are other people in the world when you are in your own little bubble.” That expression probably doesn’t exist here, but it’s probably self-explanatory. Hopefully.

“You have the most charming colloquialisms I have ever heard.” Cookie hums in delight. “It has been so refreshing having you here. I feel as if we will be lifelong friends.”

The best you can do is sigh your relief that she doesn’t call you out on being odd, and instead embraces it. So you smile warmly. “And perhaps those lives will be much longer than other friends could ever hope for.”

“The advantage of being with a vampire.” She laughs. “One of many, although I’m sure you are finding out the others when you retire to your rooms at night.”

“Oh, um…” You really have to wonder how odd it is that you claim to be married to Max but haven’t breached that particular nighttime activity yet. Thank the gods your abuela can’t feel the heat rolling off you as it rises in your cheeks. “I—of course…”

“Do not worry, we are not as uptight as some families might be about that sort of thing.” She assures you, standing up and offering you her arm. “If you wish to talk to another woman about those things, you just come to me anytime.” She is assured that your mother never spoke to you about a wife’s relations with her husband behind closed doors, and she doesn’t wish for you to be ignorant.

“That is most generous of you.” And it is, really, except she can’t possibly understand how awkward it is to have that offer made by your grandmother.

She can sense you won’t but she just pats your hand. “Well, we will talk about something else, shall we?”

Like a merciful saving grace, your mother appears in the doorway a moment later followed by a tall man with masses of wavy, dark brown hair and crystal blue eyes. It’s pretty clear your mother’s physical type is tall and strong, though. If the similarities between Emmanuel and your father are anything to go by. “You sent for us, Mother?”

Your grandmother tuts playfully. “You act as if you have been summoned to a hearing, rather than tea.” She teases. “I was hoping you and Emmanuel would join Dolly and I for tea?”

“Of course.” Even though she says it with all manner and politeness, you recognize the tone from your mother as placating and bite back a smile. She called it her ‘PTA voice’ for when she had to deal with the other moms at your schools when you were growing up. Apparently it had existed long before her involvement in any PTA. “Mr. Aubert was just saying how lovely today would be for a walk,” Annie tells the room as if it was some momentous declaration. “Perhaps you could spare me this afternoon, Mother? To accompany him?”

“I think an afternoon walk after tea would be a very delightful undertaking.” She grins because she knows that her daughter would like to be alone with her beau. “Perhaps Dolly and I will join you.” She has no intention of joining, simply meddling to meddle.

“Oh!” Annie’s head whips back to look at Emmanuel and reminds herself to smile before looking back at her mother. “Of course. If you would like to join us, you are both very welcome.” It’s clear that wasn’t her hope, but she isn’t going to say no. Saying no might have her chance at a walk revoked altogether.

“Although….” She tilts her head towards you. “Dolly and I still have so much to plan for the ball. Since she has volunteered her help.” She reconsiders. “It would be best if we stayed and continued to work, wouldn’t it?”

“There is considerable planning to do.” You manage to pick up on it almost right away, the way abuela Cookie is messing with her daughter, and you even manage not to crack a smile or laugh. “Perhaps it would be best. Will you be terribly disappointed if we are forced to stay behind?”

If your mother could look any happier, she would be crying tears of joy. Bobbling her head quickly, she’s not even looking over at Emmanuel. “That seems like a proper plan, I would hate for our outing to put you behind. Perhaps another time?”

“Yes. Another time.” Cookie’s face shows no trace of teasing or amusement until her daughter looks away and shoots you a sly smile. “What a pity. But I am sure you are more than capable of being a charming companion for Mr. Aubert.”

“So, tea?” Your mother looks around for the tea set eagerly. As if beginning it will get it over with quickly. She is eager to be alone with Emmanuel.

“Yes, miss.” The footman that appears with the tray and sets it on the low table in the center of the room. “Thank you, Franklin. We can manage for ourselves.” Cookie smiles when she dismisses the footman, but it is definitely a dismissal.

“Emmanuel, allow me to fix you a cup of tea.” Annie flirts, smiling winsomely at her caller and moving over to the tea quickly.

“Mr. Emmanuel Aubert, may I present Mrs. Dolly Phillips. Her husband is family to Mr. Brown and they will be staying with us for the foreseeable future.” Ever the gracious hostess, your grandmother makes you sound as grand and important in her introduction as royalty and you nod politely as you have now seen several women in this time period do. Shaking hands seems to be considered something quite intimate so you refrain from offering the gesture like you normally would. Seeing your mother act exactly like a teenager with a crush is sort of sweet, but you don’t comment on it at all for now. Hopefully having the other guest in the room get a bit talkative will take some of the focus off of you. “How long are you in Newport for, Mr. Aubert?”

“Business brought me to Newport for the next three months.” He explains, looking towards Annie again with a smile. “But I think I will be staying longer for personal reasons.”

"That's wonderful to hear." And more than a little heartbreaking, considering Yayo told you what happens to them. But right now your mother is happy. And being able to sit next to her again? See her smile like that? It's everything.

“Quite.” Emmanuel’s gaze at Annie is nothing short of adoring and he’s already sent for the heirloom ring that his grandmother had made him promise would rest on his spouse's finger.

“And…what sort of business are you in? If you don’t mind me asking.” So much curiosity overwhelms you at this other possible direction your mother’s life could have taken. It’s a little maddening but fascinating at the same time.

“Railroads.” Emmanuel answers simply. “My family builds railroad cars. My grandfather is George Pullman.”

“Really?” That’s probably too enthusiastic a reaction to be considered ladylike, but you weren’t expecting such a fascinating answer. “I—that is—how remarkable!”

“Then you have heard of our sleeper cars?” He asks with a proud smile. “Have you traveled in one?”

“I have not been so lucky yet.” Pullman cars being a thing of the past — now that you’re in the past maybe you’ll have a chance. “But I saw a photograph of one printed in a newspaper once.” In the archives at Vanderbilt, there had been loads of old newspapers on microfiche. It had been something of a hobby to go through them for little tidbits, and you ended up finding some fun things there.

“Then we will have to rectify that.” He smiles at you with the excitement of a man being able to show off a favorite toy. “My personal car is at the rail station. Perhaps we can take a small trip to showcase the luxurious ride available?” He clears his throat. “Your husband is welcome to join us, of course. As well as you and your husband, Mrs. Brown.” He adds politely.

“Alas, I think perhaps Mr. Brown and I will be too busy to join you.” Cookie smiles a very knowing — scheming — little grin. “But perhaps Mr. and Mrs. Phillips would be entertained by a train journey? There is time yet before the masquerade, if you choose to go sooner rather than later. A few days away does young people a world of good, without interfering with any of your responsibilities.”

“Would I be able to go?” Annie’s eyes are wide and pleading, wanting to spend as much time as possible with Emmanuel.

The knowing smile on your grandmother’s face is everything, and she nods once in polite agreement to her daughter’s plea. “I think it would be lovely for you and Dolly to make friends,” she hums, pleased with the idea. “As long as your father agrees, you may depart on Sunday as long as you return again before the Astor’s ball next Friday.”

“Mama, thank you!” Rushing forward, she kisses her mother’s cheek happily and nearly buzzes with excitement.

“Mind you behave yourself.” Cookie accepts her daughter’s love with glee, though, before going back to demurely sipping her tea. “Mrs. Phillips shall be my spy while you are away.”

“There will be nothing to report.” Annie promises, nearly giddy and she rushes around to hug you as well. “We will become the best of friends during our tour.”

“Wherever you would like to go.” Hugging your mother again — despite the corsets, despite her not knowing you yet, despite every obstacle — nearly has you in tears and you have to blink them away as fast as lightning so no one notices. “Whatever you would like, Annie.” It doesn’t even matter that using her first name is a foreign concept to bend your mind around. You’re getting to hug your mother again.

She beams and nods, happy that you are willing to be a chaperone so she can spend more time with Emmanuel. “Perhaps tomorrow morning, we can walk through the gardens together?” She asks softly.

“That sounds wonderful.” So wonderful you could damn near cry, but you’ll save that for the privacy of your own room tonight, where you know Max will understand.

“Then we have a date.” She had picked up on some of Max’s unusual phrases at breakfast, liking them immensely. Nodding and letting go of you, she rushes back over to her caller’s side.

“Wisely and slow.” Cookie says, in a moment that would seem rather enigmatic if it didn’t immediately trigger a core memory somewhere in your mind that you hadn’t even given a flicker of recognition to in years. “They stumble that run fast.” Both you and Annie finish the line of Shakespeare in unison, exchanging a look of surprise immediately afterward.

Annie is the first to break, giggling and humming playfully. “Did your mother dole out wisdom from Shakespeare as well?”

“Rather constantly.” And now you know exactly where she got it from. “And took me to the plays, as well.”

“How utterly delightful.” Annie nods. “Mother always makes sure Father secures tickets. Experiencing Shakespeare is a requirement of being a cultured lady.”

“My mother thought so as well.” And how you wish you could just dive across the room and hug her and just never let go. Or just say anything. But you promised Yayo it would be a secret.

“Well, I am glad that you are also well versed.” Your grandmother beams at the two of you. “This is like having two daughters, if only for a while.”

“I’m very glad you think so.” For you, the dream of seeing your family again is very real. It only makes sense that they recognize those traits in you, as well.

She smiles softly and nods, aware that your own parting from your family must be bittersweet for you. “Well, I think that we are going to have a marvelous masquerade this year, don’t you?” She asks you.

“It sounds like it will be wonderful.” If you ever get back to your own time to plan another, the second Samhain Masquerade you plan is going to be a hell of a lot fancier, you know that for damn sure.

“Mother enjoys planning events.” Annie offers with a proud little smirk on her face. “No one would dare turn down an invitation, not even the Astors.”

“I know I can speak for my husband when I say we are both honored to be included.” The morning for Max has been time alone with his sire, and you know that this afternoon when you have to venture into town to get fitted for clothes he’ll be talking your ear off about everything that’s been said.

“You will not regret it. The salmon pâté is probably my most favorite bite of all the buffet.” The other woman practically moans at the prospect.

“Then I dearly look forward to it.” It seems like Mrs. Taylor has always been both cook and housekeeper here and you know her cooking is impeccable. She’s made things for you that you had never imagined trying before and they’ve always been wonderful. “You’re very fortunate to have such a talented chef.”

“Mrs. Taylor has a passion for cuisine that I have never seen before.” Cookie answered honestly. “If she were born a man, she would have been accepted to the top culinary schools.”

“Perhaps she should start a school for women cooks. Share her talent with any who wish to learn and let the pool of talented women become talented, trained women.” Just because you know for a fact that it does not happen between this time and yours, doesn’t mean it never could. And it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t either. Mrs. Taylor would be a wonderful teacher.

“That would be something she would adore.” Mrs. Brown admits. “She cannot have children of her own, so the people she cares for become her children in a way. I know students would be no different.”

“Perhaps one day.” Annie chirps with a smile. She knows that something drastic would have to happen to separate her mother from their housekeeper.

“Perhaps.” Your grandmother hums softly with a smile on her face. “For now, we get to sample her delightful creativity. Why Mrs. Phillips had brought her a new recipe to try.”

“It is nothing. Really.” A bit of bashfulness has you not wanting to have your offering pried into. It all happened by accident anyway.

“Nonsense. Mrs. Taylor was floating around the kitchen with glee.” Even if she hadn’t seen the other woman, she knows how she reacts to new challenges.

“Then I hope the dish turns out to be a popular one. So she may enjoy her triumph.” You offer, and just let the facts settle over you privately and silently, that the reality of time travel is very weird.

“We will find out tonight.” She reminds you with a smile before she takes a bite of her finger sandwich.

******

"I guess they aren't up yet." Allison shrugs her giant cardigan a little closer around her body, overcorrecting for the lack of body heat from Eddie even though her vampire boyfriend is wrapped around her like an ivy vine as they slowly descend the stairs to the dining room for breakfast. There's no sign of you or Max being up or around the house, so the logical conclusion is that you've chosen to sleep in and Max is by your side. "More breakfast for us, then," she looks up at Eddie with a smile. "Or just me? Are you eating with me this morning?"

Eddie smiles down at her, amazed that she is here, that she’s in his arms. He hadn’t even heard Max’s car come home, so apparently he had been completely preoccupied. “I’ll eat with you.” He promises. “I love eating with you.”

"There's an entendre there somewhere," she hums, grinning when he leans down to kiss her halfway down the stairs.

“Didn’t think you’d want Mrs. Taylor to hear what else I love eating.” He teases her softly, grinning against her lips.

“Menace.” She’s giggling though, and pinching Eddie’s side before she starts down the second half of the stairwell. “You’re an absolute menace, Edward Cowper.”

“That’s me.” He never thought he would be classified as a menace, that was thoroughly Max’s area of expertise but Allison brings it out of him. “A menace.”

“Something smells like paradise.” The scent wafting up from the kitchen is rich and fruity and cinnamony at the same time, and Allison groans happily. “I’m getting spoiled being in this house all the time. With the Menace and the best cooking in the whole world.”

“That is nice to hear.” Mrs. Taylor bustles through the door, a distracted frown on her face as she looks at the pair. “Did Max and Dolly indicate that they would be lodging elsewhere last night?” Her question is abrupt, showing none of her usual tact.

“They didn’t come home?” Eddie’s frown matches Mrs. Taylor’s instantly. “I figured Dolly was just still asleep.”

“Max’s car is not in the garage and Renee said the bed was undisturbed.” She tells them, her jaw set in a very unhappy stance.

“They only went to Portsmouth.” The younger vampire’s frown deepens and he pulls out his phone to see if he’s missed a text but there’s nothing there. “There’s no reason they shouldn’t have come home.”

“That is what I am afraid of.” Mrs. Taylor frowns even more, her fangs descending in worry.

“If anything had happened to Dolly, Max would have brought her home instantly,” Allison reasons, though her arm around Eddie’s waist tightens with nerves.

Unless he couldn’t is the unspoken fear that passes between the two vampires in the room. Making the normally calm and collective Eddie ruffle slightly with a shudder.

“If you are wondering after his brother and his soulmate, they won’t be returning for some time.” From the darkened doorway, his voice is quiet but firm

Allison’s eyes widen at the sound of the new voice, unaware that anyone else is there and her head swings around to peer at the voice. “Why?”

“They are traveling.” Is the enigmatic answer, as the master of the house enters the room with one long, sure step.

“Where would they have gone?” Eddie asks, but a look of understanding immediately passes over Mrs. Taylor’s face. “I see.”

“Not far.” His sire assures him, seemingly nonplussed by the concern on Eddie’s face. “But I am afraid it will be some weeks before they return.” His eyes slide over to Mrs. Taylor, who nods. “Allison,” he addresses her without shifting his gaze. “You will take up Dolly’s place in finalizing plans for the ball with the coven. Mrs. Taylor will tend to things in the house. She knows what to do.”

“I- me?” She asks, slightly alarmed by the presence of Cookie’s soulmate. She has not seen the vampire since her funeral.

“Yes, my dear.” He regards her with the warmest expression he’s capable of this morning, knowing what has befallen you last night in those woods. “Cookie taught you how, and I know you have been helping Dolly. You will manage it well and have Mrs. Taylor to keep you moving forward.” His cool hand touches her arm and he nods as if to say it will all be well. “My soulmate regarded you as something of a second granddaughter, you know. I know you will make her proud.”

“I- I don’t know what to say.” Allison says, teary eyed at the beautiful words. “I will make sure that everything is perfect for Dolly and Max’s return.”

“Second granddaughter?” Eddie frowns, not quite understanding and looking to his sire curiously. “I didn’t know Cookie had a first granddaughter.”

The elder vampire smiles enigmatically. “The cat is out of the bag.” He hums and shrugs slightly. “Dolly is our granddaughter.” He reveals as simply as if he was stating the weather outside and not some surprising news.

“I knew something didn’t make sense!” Allison nearly leaps out of her seat but anchors herself by grabbing Eddie’s hand in her eager surprise. “Cookie would never have left this house to some far-flung, unknown relative!”

“You are correct.” The smirk on his face is both slightly sad and proud. “In order to break the spell, my darling Cookie decided to give up her immortal time to allow Dolly to know all of you and myself.” He pauses. “Once she is settled, I will end my existence and find her in my next life.”

The shock of that announcement sucks the air out of the room instantly, leaving even the undead breathless as Eddie’s jaw hangs wide open and Mrs. Taylor grasps the nearest piece of furniture in an uncharacteristic moment of uneasiness. She doesn’t question him, knowing how devoted he had been to his soulmate for hundreds of years, but she clasps her hand over her heart as though it were breaking. “You…” Eddie swallows air he has no need for, the harsh sound echoing in his chest. “You have an entire family here,” he protests, knowing it sounds weak — and maybe it is weak. But there are only so much family he will ever be able to have in his afterlife, and they are all because of his sire.

“I do.” His decision was not made lightly, and Cookie had protested against it, as much as he had protested her decision. “And every one of you is special to me, but she is the other half of my soul.” He reminds Eddie. “The Devil made me walk this earth for over a thousand years before my soulmate was ever born. I cannot walk another thousand without her.” He refuses to, is the real answer, but he is more dramatic than that. “I know that my chosen successor will fill my role fantastically and keep our family together.”

“Then you have already chosen.” Mrs. Taylor nods in understanding and recognition, as solemn as it is.

“All will be revealed when it is time.” He intones seriously. “It will be a joyous occasion amongst my vampiric offspring.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound @nastiasnow @vabeachazn @oberynslady @grogusmum @kittenlittle24 @8-900 @survivingandenduring @ktmadden86 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sweetnsaltyclussy

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Max Phillips #Max Phillips x you #Max Phillips x reader #Max Phillips x female reader #Max Phillips f!reader #Eddie BtVS #Eddie BtVS x OC #Bloodsucking Bastards #soulmate au #mysterious inheritance #time travel #so much chaos #it's the gilded age bitches!

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lu-lus-duckies · 2 months

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Idk what to call this so you make up the title

@huskers-bar x @nunalastor

Tags: enemies to lovers, angst?, eventual fluff, yearning?, soft huskers-bar, both mods are separate people, no beta we die like i do in this fic (not yet though), minor character death, ooc, au: hellaverse (hazbin hotel), nunalastor is head of the marketing department of the hazbin hotel (lucifer grabbed them randomly), jealousy?, huskers-bar is an employee at voxtek, lulu and angie as villains, lulu is a dog

chapter: 1/? Word count: 1,431

Featuring: babygirl anon and (eventually) @xxx-angie . I may add more along the way depending on who wants to be added. I can probably shoe-horn-in a few more characters

For the sake of not tagging people a million times, I will call nunalastor as a single entity nunalastor, traumatized mod dickmaster and cursed mod nun. and huskers-bar just husk. babygirl anon will be babygirl anon. i will be shortened to lulu but I don't appear in this fic yet. Angie doesn't appear yet, but he will be angie.

A/N: anyway this is 100% going to be a huskers-bar harem fic because i can write whatever i want. This first chapter kinda boring but it gets better (source: trust me bro). Lemme know if you'd like to see any changes. Anyway, goodbye for now. I have uni to get to so less frequent posting (sorry dickmaster, you'll have to live without any of my horrid art for a little while)

"Did you know that Alastor made a happy deer squeak during this scene?"

Ah, yes, the words that twist people's dreams into nightmares. Innocent innitially, and maybe even amusing for a good while, but the longer one lingered, the more their skin would crawl with irritation and burn their insides. Especially when one knew the context surrounding this particular phrase. And boy, did Nunalastor know the context.

"Another day, another inbox to slay, another heavenly lord to betray" Dickmaster accessed their and Nun's shared blog, unsurprisingly to hundreds if not thousands of asks invading their inbox, all of which were echoes of different variations of *thumps* and *squeaks*. If Nunalastor hadn't already grown accustomed to such deviancy, they would be horrified. Still, the depraved ideas these people came up with never failed to send shivers down their spine, and not the pleasant kind.

And why do they subject themselves to this? you may ask. It was simple. In exchange for free housing, food and supplies, Lucifer Morningstar, the devil himself and father of Charlie Morningstar had requested their help. You see, originally their blog was not this unfortunate cesspool of deranged demons who wanted to see the devil, overlords and sinners squirm under immense sexual pleasure. It used to be a simple marketing tool for the Hazbin hotel, but as all things in hell, it never goes smoothly. It wasn't like they had a choice in the matter anyway, refusing the king of hell's requests was not an option! His commands were absolute.

Dickmaster took one deep breath, running both hands through their hair and clearing their mind, preparing for probably several hours of torture that was going to be their asks. They poured themselves a drink, setting down in front of their screen. Taking a few moments to relish the silence, they closed their eyes and listened to the soft hum of their beaten up 1950's style computer, courtesy of Alastor's ban on Voxtek products at the hotel. Clicking on their inbox tab, they mentally braced themselves. even if they knew, they could never truly predict the horrors hell had to offer.

"time for #housekeeping" They declared, stretching their fingers, getting their reaction images on the ready and sifting through their own version of digital hell. It would only get worse from here.

As Nunalastor started to clean their digital home, erasing one cursed ask after another, responding to one alastor circus theory after another, One ask in particular caught their attention. It was definitely a surprise, and a welcome one at that. It stood out like a sore thumb, simple yet elegant, divine and a blessing among heaps of cursed messages that would have asmodeus and satan themselves shaking in fear.

"hi dickmaster" - anon

Nunalastor couldn't explain it. They don't know what came over them, but they felt a strange sense of attraction to this one particular anon. They were sweet, they gave them a place of solace from the dread that was piss kink headcanons and cursed deer facts, equivelent of the clogged up plumming disasters alastor had to fix with his bare hands at the Hazbin hotel. It was the piece of gold nugget hidden in a swamp full of moss and dog urine.

Dickmaster stared at the message for a good few seconds, really taking in the plainness and beauty of the two words before their eyes, appriciating all that message was as a small smile made its way up their face. This called for a special occasion. Dickmaster gripped their keyboard, nearly smashing it with the force. Their fingers danced along the keys and crafted a response like no other, one worthy of this random anon that managed to make their day a bit brighter.

"Hi babygirl" - Nunalastor

On the other side of the pentagram, a kind, sweet and not at all deranged huskers was scrolling through hells version of tumblr. Voxtek devices had proven to be quite useful in the underworld. It served as the main source of entertainment and escape for the lonely, not only for husk, but other sinners alike. Besides, being an employee meant he had extra privileges with Voxtek. Regardless, it introduced husk to the nunalastor blog, which was the best moment of their life (or lack thereof, considering they're dead).

They'd quickly grown accustomed to the undeserved hate thrown their way upon their first ever interractioin. Though they didn't understand, they could play along. They found strange comfort in the twisted logic that any form of attention was better than none. After all, being singled out meant they were special in the eyes of Nunalastor, right? that's how husk comforted themselves anyway. And they haven't seen Nunalastor actually reply to anyone with actual love before.

That is... until it happened. Someone who would later reveal themselves as babygirl anon, husks worst adversary and the unfortunate victim of lulu's slander showed up on their feed.

"hi dickmaster" - anon

"Hi babygirl" - Nunalastor

Husk stared at the screen in shock, their eyes widening and heart growing heavy. Countless questions and conflicting emotions swirled within them, each clutching their hold for attention. 'Is nunalastor serious? Do I not want them to be serious? Why can't I be treated the same? What did I do?' And amidst the chaos, one thought rose to the surface, crystal clear in Husk's mind.

'I want to be loved like that'

The frustration of being at the end of every one of Nunalastors verbal spears finally caught up to husk. Every small jab they'd written off as jokes suddenly felt like small pin needles scraping their skin. Unable to deal with the whirlwind of emotions and the confusion of it all, Husk sought solace in the one place they could always trust, the bottom of a bottle.

So they took a swig. And another. And another. Intil there wasn't a shred of emotion left to feel. Not a single thread of frustration left in them, not a nerve of anguish, not a line of confusing verbal spewage...

And not even a speck of self-restraint

"THEY JUST KEEP COMING" Dickmaster exclaimed, more like yelled as their inbox was flooded with more cursed asks at a rate faster than they could answer. At this pace, they'll be there all day, answering these asks like a poor overworked minimum wage employee at a call center.

"They'll run out of ideas eventually" Nun responded, nonchalantly, leaning against a nearby wall, sipping on a drink of their own. Nun watched as dickmaster struggled to find another reaction image fast enough so they could call it quits and leave the rest of the struggles for future Nunalastor to handle, or more accurately when it would be nun's turn to answer all the unhinged people in their inbox.

The hurried clicking of the keys on a keyboard could be heard throughout the entire room, bouncing off the walls, reflecting exactly how much infestation was actually happening in nunalastors inbox by the minute. "it would be great if you could answer a few you know, my fingers are dyin-"

And then it suddenly went quiet. The clicking died down and the unbelievably loud buzzing of their computer, along with the hitched breathing of Dickmaster was the only sound bouncing around the room. Nun of course raised a brow at this. "what's the holdup? we can't afford to take a break you know" they said, as if they were the one answering all of the asks in the first place.

nun walked over, curious as to what exactly had stopped dickmaster in his endless pursuit of emptying their inbox, considering they were always the more enthusiastic one of the two. "are you okay?" nun asked, half sarcastically. Their eyes landed over the current ask in their inbox.

"I wish you'd love me" huskers-bar

and suddenly the silence made sense. the pause had been a justified one.

dickmaster inhaled, followed by a deep and saddened exhale. they didn't want to take their eyes off of those five words. they could stare in awe and amazement at them for hours. it wasn't even the fact that it was just another ask that wasn't cursed, but because it was huskers-bar that sent-

a hand on dickmasters shoulder snaps them out of their daze, being brought back to reality, the pitiful reality. they were in hell for a reason, they reminded themselves.

"you remember our deal, don't you, dickmaster?" nuns voice cut through the buzzing, sounding deep, gruff, threatening and slightly saddened.

"yes of course" dickmaster turned back to the monitor, giving one last look at the ask before typing out what nunalastor has agreed would be the appropriate response.

"you'll get over it. #we are a huskers-bar hate blog"

#i'm kind of sorry but i cant take writing seriously when i called one of yous dickmaster askfdjaslkdfjoasidjgf #huskers-bar x nunalastor #i hope at least. idk i dont read this shit back to myself. my self esteem is low enough already #lulu is delulu #nunwhiskers

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hylias-library · 1 year

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@muffin-min I had to change blogs, so I don't have your original ask anymore, so I'll just tag you here and use screenshots!

You told me to go where I pleased after this conversation, so I did xd. I kept the conversation similar but replayed the scene with my own words. I hope you like it!

Also @pinkittwice you wanted a tag for this as well^^

[Navigation]

"Ok. Me and Warriors will check in at the guest house. Hyrule and Legend will get potions. Four and Sky will get new weapons for Wild. Y/n and Twilight will get new food rations." Time stated and then locked gazes with the Champion and the Sailor.

"Wild and Wind."

They looked everywhere but at Time.

"Don't cause a scene like last time. No fire around buildings."

They begrudgingly nodded, wandering off to explore the area while the other groups set off to gather what they needed.

You watched them retreat with a little half smile, then locked gazes with Twilight, who just shrugged. "They'll get over it."

Snorting, you shook your head and passed the rancher. "Come on. The food's not gonna buy itself!"

Twilight rolled his eyes with an amused huff, joining you. "You don't say."

You smacked him on the shoulder, laughing. "Just let me have this."

Happy you got paired with Twilight, you strolled towards a cluster of stalls you've spotted earlier. You had really taken a liking to the Hero of Twilight, and you welcomed every opportunity to be able to get a little closer to him.

Little did you know he felt the same way.

You've been browsing through the stalls of the market, Twilight already carrying a few new food items in his bags.

It was a lively place, with people shuffling all over and merchants giving each other shouting matches, trying to sell off their wares.

You had just stopped at another stall, looking at a few vegetables, when one of the merchants next to it started to yell.

"HEY YOU! YOUNG LADY!"

Confused, you looked around, then to the vendor, then to Twilight, then pointed at yourself.

He nodded energetically. "Yes! YOU! YOU'RE THE ONE!"

You blinked a few times, completely confused. "The one?... for what?"

What was he on about? You glanced at the rancher next to you, who just looked as lost as you were, shrugging his shoulders.

The man waved his hands around, gesturing intensely. "You're the one meant to be with me! My one and only future partner! So beautiful and graceful! I can already see it before my eye! A GREAT wedding! I knew as soon as I laid eyes on you!"

Your mouth fell open at his exclamation, stunned and at a complete loss of words. "I... what??"

The merchant nodded in approval. "I know. It's stunning to meet your soulmate. Of course, you'd be too flustered to say anything!"

He went around his stall, over to where you stood, and grabbed your wrist. "I bet you're going to look absolutely dashing in white! You should meet my family right now! They're going to adore you!"

You watched him in disbelief and started tugging on your wrist. He had a damn tight grip and was very much crazy to you. "No. Let me go. Now."

He ignored you, rambling on and on about his family and his delirious wedding plans, while trying to drag you along against your will.

"Let me go! You're making me uncomfortable!" You exclaimed, this time in a mix of annoyance and concern.

No response. Only more rambling. People were already starting to look your way to see what the cause of this ruckus was.

You were just about to protest again when someone grabbed you and pulled you behind them.

It was Twilight, who had watched the scene with growing displeasure.

"And who are you supposed to be?" The salesman asked in annoyance.

"I'm their friend." Twilight stated in a sour mood.

The salesman just huffed. "Can't you see I'm busy planning our wedding?" He said while trying to grab you again.

In concerning speed, Twilight grabbed the man's wrist and twisted it away from you. His gaze was cold and sharp, disapproval showing clearly, as he held the merchant in place.

"They said No."

The clerk shrunk under the ranchers, intimidating eyes. "I- I'm sorry."

Twilight tilted his head, his upper lip lifting slightly, as if he was baring his teeth.

How dare this random guy lay a finger on you. You were supposed to be with him.

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to."

You've never seen someone nod their head as quickly as this guy before, instantly turning to you.

"I'm really sorry for my behavior and for making you uncomfortable." He tried to bow as good as he could, still being trapped by Twilight's iron grip, glancing at the rancher nervously.

Twilight wasn't satisfied. "And?"

The salesman gulped audibly. "And it will never happen again."

You nodded, having watched everything until now. "Yes." You replied soberly. "It should never happen again."

With that, Twilight let the man's wrist go before pulling him in harshly by his collar, making you gasp. Hands already gripping onto his tunic's sleeve. "Twi. Please, the people are already looking at us weirdly."

Twilight locked eyes with you, his gaze softening instantly, and nodded with a deep sigh.

His gaze snapped back to the now trembling vendor, eyes practically spitting fire.

"If I ever see you anywhere near them again, you'll have to deal with me. And I won't let you get away this easily a second time."

With that, the rancher let go, and the salesman scrambled away as fast as he possibly could.

Twilight cleared his throat when you let go of his sleeve. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to cause a scene."

You softly huffed through your nose. And with a gentle smile on your lips, you stood on your tippytoes and placed a kiss on the hero's cheek. "It’s fine. Thank you for scaring him off."

Eyes traveling to where you've last seen the salesman, you rubbed the wrist that had been grabbed by him. "This was really creepy."

Seeking Twilight's gaze again, your lips lifted upwards again. "Let’s finish the shopping and then maybe take a rest at the river we saw earlier?"

Twilight smiled back, offering his arm to you, which you happily accepted. Maybe he'd shoot his shot with you sooner than he thought. It seemed he really had a chance.

"Anything for you."

#linked universe #lu #lu twilight #linked universe twilight #linked universe twilight x reader #lu twilight x reader #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader

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squishysoftmonsters · 8 months

Text

❎️Theres NSFW stuff ahead Mateys!❎️

💚Twisted Disneyland Master Post💚

💚Hot For Teacher Master Post💚

💚Monster Master List💚

💚Monster Master List 2💚

❎️DNF/DNI If you have phobias of monsters or are a minor[under 18] or are ageless. Please for your safety,blacklist tags that involve monster stuff or more mature themes! Or just block my blog to avoid miscommunication.

❎️Discourse is not welcome

❎️If youre a TERF,BOT,RADFEM or Phobe in general,take a walk on the plank! Every gender identity is valid

✅️This blog is strictly for fun and nsfw fantasies! None of these scenarios are real. None of the creatures real either. [Not a Zoophile] But who doesn't want a strong and hard monster lump rearranging their inside furniture for a few moments in real life?

✅️I'll do my darndest to cater to every gender ID as I can to make sure no one is left out.

✅️Reblogs,Comments and Notes are appreciated but not a must. This is a fantasy drama free safe space. Just good wiggly vibes.

✅️EVERY MONSTER IS LOVED HERE. There's no real rules..Just be respectful and nice is all.

✅️Sexual content will be marked in red

❎️No foul language or fetishes whatsoever.

[Pee/Poop/Vore/Feet/Spit/Food Stuffing. I don't kink shame but I'm uncomfortable writing about these the most. I apologise]

#monster lover #monster fucker #hello tumblr

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twstgarden · 9 months

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❁ ❝ 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽 ❞

━ third years and magicless! fae! gn! reader ━ living as a magicless fae has its ups and down, but you will never regret accepting night raven college's invitation to attend their academy. (f/n means first name)

requested by: @king-zi request type: headcanons requester’s message: Hi! I am new to your blog and love your writing, I really liked the Lilia and fae!gender neutral reader as well as yuu driving with the third years! I'm new to the request thing so my apologies for anything that doesn't meet the requirements Request: Can I get a gender neutral reader/yuu who is a magicless fae interacting with the third years? Maybe on a trip or something? Again I love your writing and hope you keep writing as your work is amazing ❤ florist’s note: hello there, welcome to my blog. i'm glad you enjoyed those works of mine. thank you for your request, little one. i hope i did not misunderstand anything. stay safe. <3

do not steal or translate without my permission.

being a magicless faerie has its ups and downs. you have been labelled as the “odd” one in your community as other faeries found it bizarre for you to have no magical abilities. faeries were known to have innate magic and harness their powers from nature itself, making them one of the most powerful magical beings known in twisted wonderland.

but you, dear, are the odd one out.

when you were younger, you’d find this quite a predicament. you hated the very idea of being different from other faeries. you have no magic, so you felt like you never belonged with the fae community, but you had a long life span, so you felt like you never belonged with the human race either.

being a magicless faerie meant you have never expected to study in any magic schools. what’s the use, anyway?

but lo and behold, you have received an invitation from night raven college. before you knew it, here you were in the prestigious academy, attending as a regular student. though, you were not able to participate in magic-based classes, such as practical magic, conjuration, etc.

at this moment, you found yourself right outside the campus gates with cater and trey standing beside you. cater had his elbow resting on your shoulder while holding a food itinerary, “okay~ so, we’re having a food trip around sage’s island today and we, third years, are the lucky ones to experience this first! we’re visiting around a total of ten restaurants today!”

“ten?” questioned vil in shock as his eyes widened a bit. vil was wearing his outdoor wear while holding the food itinerary, seeing as everyone had their own copies. rook stood beside him with his camera hanging from his neck as he spoke, “oh la la, that’s a lot of places to visit and eat at.”

“it’s great, though. we get to travel around the island and see what they serve in here,” spoke lilia, “wouldn’t that be a good idea in case we want to eat out or something?”

cater nodded in agreement with lilia’s words, “yes! lilia-kun gets it! so, shall we head out?” a series of ‘yea’s and ‘okay’s were heard from the group as leona held onto the car keys, sitting on the driver’s seat of the suv as he started the ignition. he was the driver for this trip, seeing as he was the one who knew how to manoeuvre a vehicle out of these young adults, grandpa, and cat.

you took a seat behind leona with grim on your lap as he grew excited about the trip. “i wanna eat now!” cheered grim as you sighed to yourself. cater was seated on the passenger seat as he turned to look at grim, “don’t worry, grim. you can eat as much as you want on our trip today!”

“cay-kun, please,” you pleaded, “i’m broke. don’t encourage him.”

“i’ll pay for your meals then,” spoke malleus as he chimed into the conversation with a smile. you and grim looked at him with slightly wide eyes as lilia cooed, “ooh~ someone’s being generous~”

you smiled politely at malleus and laughed awkwardly, “malleus, it’s really not necessary. i’ll pay for grim’s meals and make sure he won’t buy a lot.”

“who said i’ll only pay for grim’s meals?” asked malleus with a smile, making leona roll his eyes and produce some barfing noises while driving.

“blegh! gross! stop flirting with them, horned bastard!” exclaimed leona as he shivered in disgust, making cater and trey laugh softly at the scene. idia shrunk in his seat as he sighed to himself, while malleus replied back to leona, “flirting? i’m merely offering to pay for their meals. it’s a gesture of kindness, kingscholar.”

malleus then smirked as he taunted him, “of course, you wouldn’t know that since you’re probably dozing off on the wheel.” leona scoffed at his words and spoke, “if i did fall asleep on the wheel, you’d all be dead.”

he then mumbled, “would be nice, considering your ass is in this vehicle.”

vil sighed at their banter and looked at you, since he was seated beside you, “this is why leona and malleus should never be in the same room, let alone the same vehicle, together. you’ll never hear the end of their fights.”

before the argument could escalate further, cater interrupted their banter, “uhh… there! the barbecue restaurant is up ahead!” leona looked at where cater was pointing and parked the vehicle as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

once everyone was inside the restaurant, the waiter had already gotten their orders as they all sat at a table. you sat beside malleus, but grim took a seat between you two with an excited glint in his eyes. idia was seated in front of you as he had his phone out, taking pictures of grim with a smile on his face.

“once i have my barbecue, it’s going down my stomach!” cheered grim, making malleus chuckle at his words while you patted grim’s head. “If you eat too much here, you won’t get to enjoy the other nine restaurants,” you spoke, almost as if you were scolding him a bit. you then shifted your attention to the ignihyde dorm leader taking pictures of the cat-monster beside you, making you laugh softly, “idia?”

realizing he was caught in the act, he hid his phone and looked at you with wide eyes, “h-huh? i wasn’t doing anything!”

you gave him a teasing smile before waving your hand dismissively, “nah, it’s fine, man. grim can be cute sometimes, anyway.”

“sometimes?” questioned idia with a raised brow, but before you could respond, the food was served and grim was the first one to dig in before anyone else could grab their food.

“goodness, grim. do you not get full?” asked vil in shock and slight annoyance at grim’s behaviour, but the little monster did not care as he replied while munching away, “rarely.”

you gave the rest an apologetic smile before digging in. it was peaceful and fun all the while. lilia was seated on malleus’ left-hand side as he peeked his head towards you, looking at you with a smile, “so, little faerie, how do you like the trip so far?”

you turned to look at lilia while sipping on your drink and teasing him a little, “so far so good, old faerie.” lilia gave you a playfully annoyed expression before laughing it off, seeing as you weren’t wrong anyway.

all while you were talking to lilia, cater was looking at you with a curious expression until he spoke, “hey, n/n… i hope you won’t take it the wrong way, but what’s it like to live that long?”

though the question seemed vague, you knew he was asking about your experience as a long-lived fae with no magic. you smiled at cater to show him that there isn’t any problem with being curious about that, “hmm… i’d say i feel like an ordinary being with a long life. it’s like you get to experience those moments that are now just seen in history books, you know? it’s quite interesting but lonely.”

“i see…” trailed vil, “...do you ever wish you had magic?”

vil’s question made you think for a while as you hummed softly in thought before smiling at him, “not at all. maybe when i was younger, i would have wished to have magic like everyone else. however, as i grew older, i accepted who i really am. being magicless has its advantages too, y’know!”

“at least i won’t have to worry about overblots,” you mumbled under your breath as you continued to eat your meal.

“we heard that,” remarked leona as he looked at you, making you smile sheepishly at them before returning to your meal. once everyone was finished with theirs, trey grabbed his food itinerary and spoke, “our next stop is… a brasserie.”

“a brasserie? très bien, let’s go, then!” cheered rook as he and the rest stepped out of the barbecue restaurant.

while you walked back to the suv, you felt a hand on your shoulder as you turned around and saw trey smiling at you. “hey… i thought you might need to hear this. if you ever need someone to lean on, we’re here, okay?” spoke the vice leader politely as he continued smiling at you.

you smiled in response, finding his gesture sweet, “thank you, trey. i appreciate it.”

“for someone long-lived like me, i will never regret attending night raven college. the relationships i’ve cultivated with the third years will always be a special memory that i’ll keep until my last breath.”

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luxaryllis · 21 days

Text

My Friend

Note: I'm back!! I wrote this fic for @twst-charity , which is a Twisted Wonderland-themed charity drive for Palestine. Please do check it out and donate!! Their pinned post and blog in general has a lot of information, and they also have contributor sign-ups open as well! I really hope you guys can support in any way you can!

Here's the link to donate and send a request as well! The whole thing works rather similarly to giving a commission, except you simply have to provide a proof of your donation and then give your request.

Anyways, this is a fic focused on Rollo and the donor's oc, Robin! Fic is under the cut. I had so much fun writing this, especially since this was my first time writing for Rollo. Hopefully I can also get to work on other requests for the charity drive and the requests on my inbox as well! This is also full fluff so no warnings from here!

Chatter and laughter fill the cafe, filling the area with a lively and bustling atmosphere. The smell of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries waft through the air and easily excite the customers piling in. The door jingles lightly with every person walking in, and people all converse together happily. Groups of friends, couples, families, and even those alone are enveloped by the welcoming ambience of the cafe.

The bells jingle again, prompting the servers to enthusiastically thank the two people who were leaving. Rollo and Robin step out of the warm cafe, a cold breeze greeting them as soon as they step outside. Robin takes a small sip of his hot chocolate, smiling happily at the toasty feeling it brings to him. The shorter boy lets out a small hum of contentment as the hot beverage smoothly goes down his throat.

“Mmmh! Thanks for treating me, Rollo. This cafe really is good!” Robin grins up at Rollo in happiness and gratitude. Rollo only nods, using his handkerchief to cover his mouth a bit. Rollo’s voice is slightly muffled as he speaks from behind the cloth, “Of course. It’s my pleasure. This cafe is known for its authentic traditional food from Fleur City, so I thought it best to show you the richness of Fleur City’s culture.”

The two start to stroll together by the sidewalk, a peaceful silence between the two friends. A few butterflies flutter over, making Robin giggle slightly as he watches them fly about without a care. The butterflies then proceeded to fly away, the whimsical wings fluttering off. Just as the winged insects flew out of view, a small drop of water fell on Rollo’s shoulder, making him pause and look around to see whoever or whatever made the water fall on him.

With that one droplet of water, came another. And another. Until drops of rain were falling from the sky. Robin lets out an exclamation of surprise, not having anticipated it to start raining. It’s somewhat evident that Rollo didn’t expect it either, if his annoyed mutters into the handkerchief fully covering his mouth mean anything. The two quickly run back to the cafe, stopping just outside and taking shelter under the extended roof. Rollo heaves a sigh of relief and pockets his handkerchief, looking at Robin who was trying to dry his slightly damp hair.

Robin lets out a small chuckle and quickly downs the rest of his hot chocolate, setting it by the table nearby. The two take a seat and watch as Fleur City becomes a rainy wonderland. While it was a mundane and normal sight to Rollo, who has lived in Fleur City his whole life, it seemed almost like a life-changing experience to Robin. There was just something so beautiful about how the raindrops fell and made puddles in the ground, rippling with every drop that fell. How the petals of the flowers outside would bend a bit when a drop would fall on them, and how the bright sun still shines despite the rain and darkening clouds, making a wonderful scene.

Such a stunning sight should definitely be captured on camera.

The younger boy takes out his camera and turns it on, looking through the viewfinder of the camera. Robin squints in concentration as he fiddles with the focus and zoom rings on his camera, trying to find the best way to capture the wondrous moment. Rollo watches on in slight confusion, but doesn’t say anything just yet. He knows when someone needs to focus, and photography is a delicate art that requires all concentration. A shutter and click sound is heard, and Robin looks at the photo he took. A bright grin grows on his face as he sees the picture.

“Rollo, Rollo! You should take a look at this!” Rollo blinks a bit and leans over curiously, looking from above Robin’s shoulder to see the picture. It was just a standard picture of Fleur City raining; it wasn’t anything extraordinary. While Fleur City was a beautiful sight, was it really worth taking a photo of it while it was raining? It’s still the same city, after all; it’s not like there’s any change to Fleur City as it rains. The same buildings, the same flowers, the same people.

And yet... when looking at it through Robin’s camera, everything seems brighter, almost mesmerising. Rollo was used to the sight of Fleur City, though he loved his homeplace very dearly, but even he didn’t expect to see this beautiful sight. The camera caught even the smallest of details, and it was so wonderful to see that such a moment was perfectly captured and preserved. Rollo forces himself to hide the small smile growing on his face, but lets himself release a sound of affirmation and pride. “Hm, you did well. A beautifully taken picture. The beauty of Fleur City truly shines with this...”

It was rare for Rollo to give praise to anything or anyone, and is more seen showing his disdain for things more than anything else. Robin blushes a bit and sheepishly grins, puffing out his chest a bit in confidence, “Hehe I’m glad you like it! Oh! How about I print it out for you? You really like Fleur City, don’t you? I can print it out as a keepsake for you or something.”

Rollo blinks a bit in surprise, “Really? You would?” He pauses and hesitates a bit. His pride and ego is telling him not to accept it; after all, he shouldn’t seem so vulnerable in front of others. Especially not after what happened last time. He swore to himself never to let his emotions truly get the better of him. He’s been forgiven by the NRC students, but he’ll never forget their faces and the faces of the people who got hurt because of him. But then... it’s Robin.

It surprises him how kind Robin is, and he feels almost taken aback when Robin nods happily, his big grin brighter than even the sun. Rollo sighs in defeat, “I would like that. Thank you…”

Robin lets out a celebratory noise and keeps his camera. “I’ll print it out when I get back and give it to you, then!”

It was so surprising sometimes, how Robin can be so sweet to someone like Rollo. Rollo knows he can be too much. He knows he’s done so many things that are wrong. No matter how much he works, he knows he might never truly make up for it. He doesn’t understand how Robin, who has been so exposed to magic despite having none himself, can be so caring and understanding. How can Robin be so kind to him? Rollo is rather sure that, after what he’s done to Robin’s friends, he wouldn’t even want to be associated with him.

Rollo breaks the peaceful silence between them as he softly speaks, “Why? Why are you so kind to me?” Robin blinks and tilts his head to the side with a confused expression. “Hm? What do you mean by that?”

The older boy sighs and tries to explain, “I mean... certainly you should feel some sort of disdain towards me, shouldn’t you? It’s a wonder that you’re so kind to me. So why? Why are you…?"

“Huh?! Hey, don’t say that, Rollo! Why am I so kind to you...? Well, I guess it’s because it looks like you need a friend!” Robin musters up a kind smile to his companion. “I don’t see how it’s so special, though, but I’d be very glad to be the friend that you need!”

A friend… Rollo’s had close acquaintances before, maybe some people he’ll confide in sometimes, but he’s never really thought of anyone as a friend. After the incident with his younger brother, after he swore to himself to eradicate all magic in this world, he’s never had someone he can truly call a friend. He tries to keep his blush and smile hidden behind his handkerchief, muttering to himself as he averts his gaze.

Yet Robin thinks of him as a friend. Are there people out there who think of him as a friend too? Perhaps not, not with his terrible temperament. But Robin seeing him as a friend is a big surprise. Or, knowing the first year’s friendliness and kindness, maybe it isn’t so shocking.

“I don’t deserve someone as amazing as you…” Rollo mumbles out softly, his voice muffled by the handkerchief over his mouth. As Rollo watches Robin hum in confusion, asking what he just said, he swears to himself to not make the same mistake he made last time.

Robin makes him feel like a normal person again. Like he isn’t just Noble Bell College’s Student Council President. Like he’s just another person. Like he didn’t actually do so many terrible things in a fit of rage and revenge. Like he’s just a friend to someone. It’s hard to muster up the words to describe the warmth he feels, and Rollo’s pride and ego just can’t let him express his true feelings. Not now. Not yet. For now, he can only manage to say what he’s always wanted to say in his head.

“Thank you, Robin. You’ve saved me, my friend.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst fluff #twst x oc #twst charity #rollo flamme #twst rollo #twst platonic #twst x reader

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lotshusband · 2 months

Text

gaze upon my soup ye mighty and despair ‼️

veggie broth made from scratch & matzo ball is manischewitz 🩷

#nathaniel.txt #welcome to my twisted food blog

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jester-lover · 1 year

Note

this is my first time writing a request, so please let me know if i need to be more specific! i was wondering if you could write a desi reader x the dorm heads (twisted wonderland). like introducing the boys to the culture and stuff like that? thank you!!

YES OF COURSE!!!! I’m desi myself! We desperately need representation in anime/game spaces, these are just the ones I could think of one the spot, but I saw this request and it made my day!!

also fun fact: this blog was originally supposed to be centered around desi women, but I couldn’t keep up with that idea, this is such a lovely reminder!!

Warnings: Fluff, food, hair mentioned, ‘starting a family’ mention but no kids or anything, unapologetic cultural appreciation, desi families (positive), author calls the pale ones gora pakoras, rambling

Dorm Leaders with a Desi Girlfriend!

Riddle Rosehearts

I don’t think you understand how much your mom loves him

His spice tolerance is at ZERO, but boy will he try for you

He adores gulab jamuns, I mean ROSES?? WITH DESSERT?? This is his destiny

Adores chai, drinks more chai than all your aunts combined

He loves chai so much he’ll ask for you to make it for the tea parties, drinks the chai with biscuits

OFF WITH THEIR HEAD to anyone who calls it ‘chai tea’ !!!

Desi jewelry is his favorite thing you wear, the intricate patterns and shapes make his heart beat faster

If you get him jewelry he’s probably gonna cry

“You look absolutely gorgeous, I almost can't believe you’re with me.”

Leona Kingscholar

The mix of y’all’s cultures is perfect

He will happily eat spicy meat, he can go on about the meat

Biryani is his favorite, goat or chicken

You might expect me to say your parents don’t like him, but HE’S LITERALLY A PRINCE, man is rich asf you’re gonna be taken care of

He’s also so respectful to your mom, she def tells you to act more like him

If you have to accompany him to some gaudy event in the savanna, and you choose to wear cultural clothing, like a sari or salwar kameez, he’s literally frozen

He’s buying a ring as we speak

All the whatsapp aunties are gossiping about the two of you, but you literally couldn’t care

He’s def the type to buy you jewelry

“I- god for once in my life I literally don’t have words, you’re glowing.”

Azul Ashengrotto

I will defend fishy fishman until my last day

he is such a good boyfriend, always treating you out and keeping you happy

Your parents support you two, because Azul has a good head on his shoulders and has a good chance of being successful

He really adores you in blue, especially blue lehengas, you look like a princess to him

he is super appreciative whenever you introduce him to new recipes, his lounge may even use some of the spice blends you suggest (with credit)

He enjoys paneer pakoras, fried desi food is a wonder to him

“I know I’m stuffing my face right now, but can you really blame me?”

Kalim Al-Asim

HE IS PERFECT !!

He’s so happy to meet someone of a similar culture to him!

But this is also where his main problem lies..

He’s so blushy around you its crazy

Never did he think he could meet someone who he knows so well, who feels like home and warm welcomes

You two go on so many adventures

Jamil is so tired, let my man rest

Sometimes the cultural overlap is so prominent, especially in words and food items

Both of you adore a good lamb curry

You ever see that tikitok trend, the “I can’t date outside of my culture because how am I supposed to explain _______”

You both can relate to that one.

Something about you brings out the poet in him

(I have to stop eventually because this could just become it’s own post)

“You are my home, you are warmth and kindness packed into a beautiful human being.”

Vil Shoenheit

THIS

He’s honestly so happy to be in a relationship with a desi girl, you open up a whole new world to him

I feel like he would be an appreciator of desi bread on his cheat days

Especially paratha, it’s so buttery and rich, he’ll eat it with achaar

Your clothes always astound him

He’s used to glitz and glamour, but the sheer amount of detail in your outfits, that will leave him speechless

I believe he’d enjoy salwar kameez, especially in a more early 2000s way (think kabhi khushi kahbie gham)

Honestly he enjoys everything about desi fashion, he deeply respects you for wearing those HEAVY

Helps you oil your hair, it’s an extremely intimate moment and you grow a lot closer together

“Liebling, please hold still, I still have to get to the back of your head!”

Idia Shroud

(He’s Greek in my heart)

Idia is such a little loser/pos

He’s so nervous at any of your family gatherings, ortho has to hype him up before

He’s definitely the person at a desi house party who slips away after the food is served, literally gone

If he ever visits your country (in a different dimension lol) he might have a tough time

Homie is so sensitive to hot weather, he’s getting sunburned so hard

He gets so shy when you’re all dolled up, he can’t even look you in the eye

You just look so above his league

This is where you build his confidence, because he would look gorgeous in desi clothes

Him in a kurta is the thing that would actually kill me

Idia is obsessed with you, even if the time you spend together is spent inside his room, cuddled up watching anime or playing games instead of socializing

You probably get him into old bollywood movies

“I mean, we ate already, what’s the point of sticking around?”

Malleus Draconia

He’s a well educated person, so he probably keeps a respectful distance until you start educating him on your culture

Malleus deeply enjoys the sense of family in desi culture, the community that helps one another and keeps your head lifted

It reminds him of his own caring upbringing

He’s another appreciator of desi desserts, more modern ones tend to stick to him better, like mango ice cream

He is smitten with Rooh Afza in milk, even if he doesn’t need human drinks

He finds your cultural apparel so pretty

especially if you wear deeper colors like emerald and black

He really just wants to match

Really enjoys historical drama bollywood movies

Is the type to tell you when your chunni is slipping off, and carries extra safety pins to help with fashion mishaps

“I hope one day, our own family will be a beautiful as this.”

I’m so sorry for the bad dialogue, every time I try to think of something a character says, the voice in my head (inner monologue) turns into bob belcher from bob’s burgers. I will be trying my best to fix the flat dialogue with better nicknames and stuff. Thank you for reading.

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delirious-donna · 2 years

Text

Just Like That [My Hero Academia]

an: no one asked for it but fuck it, this is my blog and I am craving some steamy goodness with the handsome MHA men

feat: Bakugou Katsuki, Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shoto

warnings: Katsuki, Izuku and Shoto are aged 25, blowjob, pussy eating, lingerie, friends to lovers, mutual pining, pussy fingering, lil dirty talk, Sho being just a tiny bit Dom cause I couldn't help myself

Masterlist

Bakugou Katsuki

Two months.

That's how long he made you wait. Wait for a taste of him.

One taste was all it took for you to become addicted, knowing you would never again find something so deliciously sweet and wickedly sharp.

Carmine eyes watched - waited - tracking every movement with keen precision. His arms stretched the length of his kingly sofa, thighs spread wide to assert his place at the top of the food chain.

Dinner had been intimate. A quick affair as Bakugou undressed you with his eyes across the table.

“Let’s have dessert back at mine, would you like that pretty girl?”

Now you stood in only your fanciest lingerie, the twinkling lights of the city were your background as you waited for a reaction - for something to tell you what he was thinking.

A crooked smile curled his lips, a short huff through his nose as his chest puffed. His fingers slid down the stiff material of his white button-up, loosening the buttons slowly.

“White, huh? Something tells me you’re not quite that innocent,” he teased. There was a bite to his tone, one that made your thighs press tight and your teeth grip the plump flesh of your lip.

You trailed a finger over the white bralette, the sheer fabric highlighting your dark nipples and how perky they already were.

“Katsuki.”

His pupils sharpened, a hiss pulled through those white clenched teeth and a tic worked in his jaw. It was new for him to hear you use his given name, an honour not long bestowed and he loved it - would die to hear it fall from your lips in the throes of passion.

Katsuki watched your hungry gaze rake down his torso, eyeing the column of flesh being exposed by his deft fingers but the way you eyed the obvious bulge in his pants was enough to make his butt clench.

“You want this pretty girl?” he asked, palming himself through the stiff fabric of his expensive slacks.

You nodded, feet twisting on the plush rug before you fell to your knees and crawled to him. Ass swaying in the white matching panties, letting your hips roll with every forward drag of your thighs until your nose was nuzzling his knee.

The sound of metal clattering in the heavy silence sent shivers skittering down your spine in anticipation.

Bakugou released a sigh as his achingly painful cock kissed the cool air and the needy mewl and big doe eyes gazing at him were almost too much.

A calloused hand cupped your cheek, thumb pressing against those pouty lips until he felt your tongue lapping at the pad.

He guided your head to where he wanted you most - watched your eyes turn glazed with longing as kitten licks caused his dick to twitch.

“Suki,” you moaned, mouth widening to welcome him inside.

Ash blond hair fell into his eyes, head lolling back against the cushions as you swallowed him down eagerly.

“Fuck - just like that.”

Midoriya Izuku

The air was heavy - sticky with lust and the scent of arousal. Heated moans pulled from the depths of your chest as you tried to remember exactly how you got here.

How had you ended up stretched out bare on the rug, spine bowed and a forest of lush green hair between your thighs?

It had meant to be a lesson in self-defence. Your neighbour, the number one pro hero, was the sweetest man you had ever met and he worried about you.

It was adorable how Midoriya checked on you every day either before or after a patrol. Insistent knocks on your door, deliveries of your favourite treats pressed into your hands accompanied by blushing cheeks and eyes that refused to meet your own.

How a man of his size and stature could be so shy yet so obvious was a mystery, but you enjoyed the attention and craved to take it further.

When he had jokingly offered to teach you some moves, you jumped at the opportunity.

It hadn’t taken long for his touches on your body to linger, the adjustments that he made to correct your form were firmer than needed and brushed areas that could have been avoided.

Midoriya prepared for a fresh attack, wrapping a thickly muscled arm around your chest and pulling you hard against his torso. You were meant to stomp on his instep, elbow him in the stomach before turning to kick him in the crotch but you didn’t.

Instead, your nails clawed into his arm and your butt pressed against his groin. The lowly moan fluttered from your throat before you could catch it. His grip loosened enough to spin you around, vivid green eyes dark with hunger and your mouths met in a rush.

Teeth clashed, lips bruised as your fingers gripped into his hair, tugging him down to your smaller stature until he was lifting you with ease. He tasted sweet like warm honey and you couldn’t get enough.

Now you were being worshipped by the man you considered to be godlike.

“Midoriya.”

The wet lashing of his eager tongue paused, and the pump of his two thick fingers plunging into your cunt faltered.

“Izuku. Call me Izuku, cutie.”

The very words were enough to make your cunt clench, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as he picked up the pace.

“Izuku!” you whined, pressing a hand to your stomach as a familiar sensation edged closer.

His fingers curled to massage your front wall at the same time his lips suckled your aching bud.

“Just like that - don’t stop!”

Todoroki Shoto

A puff of icy breath fogged above your head as you waited for your beau. You cupped your hands and blew warm air into them as your feet danced on the sidewalk, eyes swinging from left to right.

You squeaked when an overly warm hand slid into your cool ones. Todoroki offered a ghost of a smile as you squealed and turned to face him.

“You scared me!”

“I noticed,” he retorted, enjoying how you melted into his side, seeking his heat as balsam from the frigid weather.

It had been a few months since you had started dating your handsome man after literal years of mutual pining. Things were great but that next level of intimacy still had not been broached and it was slowly killing you.

Your spine straightened noticeably, and Shoto arched a brow in question.

He didn’t need to know that you had downed two shots of hard liquor before your meeting time, scenarios of how you were going to approach the sensitive subject running rampant in your mind.

Perhaps it was the alcohol or maybe it was simply the ardent desire you felt whenever you were in his presence - regardless, what fell from your mouth was certainly unrefined and abrupt.

“Fuck me Shoto.”

His head snapped around, checking for potential interlopers and thankfully finding none. You quelled under the stern expression, mistaking his stare for anger when it was furious lust.

His fingers tightened around your wrist and Todoroki was hastily pulling you along until he found the very alleyway he was looking for. The one that he knew few were aware even existed, shrouded in the shadows of an abandoned housing complex.

“Fuck you?” he breathed in your ear, having spun you around to face the wall.

His heterochromatic eyes blazed with dark flames, slow motions of his hand sliding beneath the hem of a skirt that was far too short for this weather.

You whimpered at the graze of his fingers against the damp spot on your underwear, the hiss of breath caught fast in his throat making you press further into his touch.

“Please.”

Never had you seen this side of Shoto, the confidently in control yet lustful aura. It was hot, sinful in how it made your slick grow. He hummed against your neck, open-mouthed kisses firmly pressed against your pounding pulse.

“No,” he whispered at the exact moment his exploring fingers slipped past the barrier of your panties. Rough pads pass over your hot flesh, collecting arousal and running the length of your slit.

“I’ll let you cum on my fingers, sweetheart. Then -,” he paused for added effect, thumb swiping meanly against your aching little clit.

You felt feverish despite the temperature as you waited for him to continue, knees trembling to the point that had Shoto not been holding you up, you’d be sliding to the ground.

“I’m taking you home so I can see just how dumb I can fuck you.”

One thick finger bullied its way into your sopping hole, twisting and forcing your walls apart to accommodate what was to come.

“Sho - fuck!”

His grin was wicked against your flesh, his cock rutting against your butt as he added a second finger to your tight pussy.

“Not yet, soon. Now fuck yourself on my fingers,” he cooed. His breathing staggered as your hips lifted to do as you had been told, you were so good - so willing.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that.”

#delirious writes #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki #izuku x reader #izuku smut #midoriya izuku #todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shōto #shoto smut

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swampstew · 9 months

Text

KIᒪᒪEᖇᑕOOK - ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ 7

Welcome to Raven’s Reading Nook - a small corner of this blog dedicated to cozy story times. Join us in the family room as we sit around and browse our phones, and eat some Girl Scout cookies as we begin tonight’s story. Rated Mature for language. Minors DNI.

TikTok – KillerCook’s live stream has ended but you can still watch the video. Check out their page and make sure you turn on notification so you don’t miss another one!

Title: Brick Oven Pizza Description: My blue haired assistant and I make some pizza. Easy enough recipe that even a child can do it. What’s your favorite pizza topping? Wrong answers only!

*Press Play*

“Hey there everyone! KillerCook here with one of my best buds – you all know him as FlamingHot420 – I refer to him as just Heat. Say hi Heat!” Killer waved to the camera, gently nudging a flustered Heat to do the same.

Abandoning the loc he had been twisting nervously in his hands, Heat dropped one and raised the other to say hello. Both hands behind his back as he let Killer do his introduction.

Heat’s stance allowed for his shoulders and biceps to be more pronounced, not on purpose of course, but noticeable all the same. The light shined on the two sets of thick, black thorn tattoos that ran down his arms, connecting to the ones that wrapped around his throat in three coils. His long, black muscle tank top made his muscles pop, though the fabric covered far too much of his figure as it draped over his pants. The way he was standing did not allow for viewers to appreciate his figure from the side.

“Today, Heat is my assistant as we make brick oven pizzas. Don’t fret though, Kid will be here later to taste test still.”

Heat rolled his eyes, “Killer remind me, is this your social media account or his?”

Killer coughed, “To be determined. Moving on! Heat would you mind telling us why we’re making the ‘zzas this way instead of the traditional oven method?”

The helmeted man walked away from the counter to set up the prepping area in the background as Heat spoke, albeit still nervously, to the audience.

“When using a brick oven, the confined space and coals bring out a smokey and distinct, sweet flavor as it cooks the pizza. Roasting it over fire helps bring out the sugars in the dough and sauce, making the crust and toppings nice and crispy when fully done.”

Walking back to the camera and microphone, Killer added, “Obviously we didn’t think it was practical to build and house a brick oven in our kitchen. So we built one outside! With it being disgustingly humid with a chance of casual thunderstorms during the summer, we’ve opted to create our pies inside before taking them out back to bake. Being inside is the only safe space from mosquitos.”

Heat nodded in agreement, “They always target me for some reason!”

Pinging notifications went off and both men leaned in together to read them.

“CalzonesAreMid: says, ‘Brick oven pizza is elite. You’ll have to post photos of the set up!’ Thank you, and we will post follow up content this week to showcase the food and the oven. I’m real proud of the work the four of us did,” Killer beamed privately.

Heat cleared his throat, “ItsEtymologyOClock: says, ‘Aww Heat they target you because you must have sweet blood!’” he blushed. “Actually, there are scientifically backed reasons why mosquitoes target certain people and not others, but I don’t remember all of what it said. I do remember that only female mosquitos bite and its because they’re seeking protein in order to lay their eggs. It’s creepy, violating, and fascinating,” he mused. “What?” he asked when he noticed Killer’s head tilt at him.

“This isn’t ‘Heat’s Weird Facts About Bugs hour,’ it’s KillerCook time. Let’s shift from sweet tasting blood to marinara sauce.”

Tying his apron behind his back, Killer’s chino capri pants hugged his rounded bottom as he tightened the strings over his hips. Wearing a V-neck cut shirt, short blond body hair peeped from the free space, while his muscles strained against the cotton material. As he pulled his hair back, his arms bulged with his movements; his scarred arm seemed bulkier on camera, especially as he expertly twisted his wrist and wrapped his hair into a massive bun. Placing a hair net over it, Killer shot finger guns to the camera.

“_LickMeImurLollipop asks: What’s cooking good looking?’” Heat stifled a laugh behind his gloved hand. He too had tied his hair back into a messy bun, his locs held in place with multiple hair bands and two hair nets. “Oh, they also added: ‘Heat baby don’t pout. You’re looking immaculate as always. When I die, I hope you hold my hand on my way to hell.’ What makes you think you’re going to hell, Lollipop? A sweetie like you is definitely going to heaven,” Heat shocked the audience with his smoothness. “Killer and Kid aren’t the only ones with rizz,” he huffed at the replies he received.

“No but you definitely learned it from us,” Killer chuckled. “For today, we’re going to use a simple base recipe, keep in mind we make our own dough. You can use store bought, I won’t judge – much. But for those interested in learning the traditional way, don’t look away. We’re gonna pound this dough into perfection.”

It was Heat’s turn to chuckle, “We’re also going to beat the marinara sauce until its nice and smooth, perfectly balanced with spices. Should I showcase the ingredients?”

With Killer’s approval, Heat began showing off the ingredients and brands used to the camera. Distilled water, dry yeast, salt, flour, extra virgin olive oil, a variety of cheeses, oregano, black pepper, tomatoes, and fresh basil.

“If you don’t have extra virgin olive oil, you can use born-again virgin olive oil,” Killer quipped as he mixed the dough ingredients in a steel bowl. That made Heat choke while he prepared the sauce in a separate bowl.

“Now, technically you’re supposed to let the dough rise and set before use. But we don’t have an hour to wait on that so—” Killer explained as Heat put away the dough bowls in the fridge, exchanging them with three bowls that had blue and white checkered cloth covers over them. “We made these last night! We’re going to flatten these down using flour to prevent sticking, and then we’ll pile on the base before we garnish the living shit out of these with toppings. We’re making 3 pizzas, each one with different toppings that we enjoy.”

Heat pulled out vegetables, meats, and more cheese than should be legally allowed in one household over the countertop while Killer pulled out three flat pizza stones that would be inserted in the oven.

“I like pineapples on mine and I don’t want to hear a damn word about it,” Heat said. “Anyone that disagrees is just a hater following the opinions of others. Don’t be like that,” he complained, popping a few slices of the fruit into his mouth, letting out a soft but not inaudible grunt of approval.

Killer pulled out a small ceramic bowl from the fridge, “I like to add macaroni and cheese on mine. I don’t give two shits what anyone thinks about it. I live my life the way I want.”

“And of course, Kid likes his loaded with meat and vegetables. I’m pretty sure we make him a plate of just that with a side of crust,” Heat chopped up slices of pepperoni, sausage, and ham while Killer did the same with the other meats and veggies.

“Yeah, for his we make the crust extra thick, and we also stuff the edges with extra cheese. We love Kid but we also love him more when he’s passed out from a food coma. The silence? Truly golden,” Killer’s shoulder shook as he quietly laughed.

“Shut the hell up,” a grumpy looking Kid came into the camera’s view. His demeanor piqued when he smelled the aromas coming from the countertop.

Both cooks shook, Heat more audible in his laughter, as they prepared their pizzas. Slathering the crusts with a mix of butter, garlic, and parmesan for extra pizzaz. Taking their pizza stones, they laid their creations down and covered them up with plastic saran wrap to keep them bug free.

“Time to throw them in the oven. Kid can you please take the camera so we can show our viewers the oven we all worked so hard to make?”

Kid had been in the background nonchalantly posing in his tight fitting gym clothes. Wearing compressed pants that looked like leggings and a tight, red muscle shirt, his muscles gleamed under the lights in the kitchen. Impatiently changing his stance as he waited while also doing the most to steal the attention of the viewers.

“Impure_Thots: says, ‘Mama Mia, can I have him as a topping?’” Killer shook his head. “We excuse a lot of shady things, but I draw the line at cannibalism!”

Kid barked out laughter as he took the camera and followed his housemates to their massive backyard. Unlike the last video where they had a pool party, the yard looked almost too big for just the three men. The pool looked refreshing as the water reflected under the sunshine.

Holding the camera, the redhaired punk pointed it to show the audience a wide, quaint looking brick oven. It stood where the tables during their pool party once stood. It was a brilliant red color with double wide black steel doors. Hooks were hammered to the side that held cleaning tools, and a massive wooden paddle – a pizza peel, to help place the pizzas in and out of the fire. Underneath the doors was an open space that was already filled with firewood and coal. In fact, it was so stuffed that it didn’t look like anything could be moved or added to the fire pit.

“We made this oven to be able to hold four pizzas at a time. Work smarter not harder,” Kid announced proudly.

“Actually, when baking pizzas you’re supposed to A) have the fire be burning at least 20-40 minutes before sticking your pies in, and B) the fire should be situated to the side not directly under the pizzas. This is to help keep an eye on how its cooking instead of heating it up too quickly and resulting in burnt pizzas. Without some room for cold air circulation, you’ll end up with a less than desirable pizza. Burnt to a crisp without properly cooking evenly,” Killer explained.

“I hate being kept waiting. Fire them shits up Heat!” Kid barked.

“NO WAIT!” Killer screeched.

The camera seemed to freeze in place as a flashing brightness flooded the view. Nothing could be seen and all that could be heard was panic and unintelligible shouting. The camera itself stopped recording and a small glitch occurred before a buzzing static took over. After a minute, a screen card was layered over the video with a message that read: Idiotic technicalities. Please standby.

Several minutes later, the recording picked up and the message faded away. When the camera’s focus was cleared, Killer, Heat, and Kid stood front and center with folded arms. Each muscled man was covered in grime and soot. Killer’s helmet had distinct burn marks while Kid and Heat’s shirts were marked with singed holes.

None of them looked pleased.

“SO! What did we learn?!” Killer snapped at his housemates.

“Don’t listen to Boss,” Heat muttered.

“Shut up!” Kid’s face flushed red with embarrassment. Killer swatted the back of his head. “Listen to the head chef when it comes to cooking,” the Captain finally admitted, scowl engrained in his face.

“That’s right,” Killer scoffed. “Sorry for the disruption during the stream. We obviously had to deal with an inferno that has since been put out and cleaned. I know it may come off weird doing another stream for all of 10 minutes but we still wanted to do the taste test. We’ll clean the live up in post-editing before I upload the video on my channel. Now without further ado,” Killer turned around to the kitchen island table.

From the backside, his pants and shirt were burnt so severely it looked like he walked through hell and back. Heat and Kid were no better off as they shifted around the kitchen to take seats. With a comically large pizza cutter, Killer sliced the pizzas into shareable portions, bringing the camera closer to show off each one.

His macaroni pizza was lathered in molten cheese, crispy burnt edges on the top of the noodles and crust while steam curled around the top. Heat’s pizza looked like it was sweltering with the way the fresh pineapple chunks oozed with juice that leaked from the pulpy flesh. Kid’s pizza was truly a monstrosity. It was not winning any beauty contests and it surely wouldn’t be able to hold up in his hand but he tried anyway.

Using his metal prosthetic as a plate, he carried the heavy slice to his mouth where he took a massive bite. Cheesy ropes pulled from the crust to his mouth as he dragged the slice away from his face to chew.

“Shiiiiiit,” Kid crowed between his stuffed cheeks. “A bit hot but godsdamn that’s a good ‘zza! You could feed a village with just one slice!” His throat bulged as he swallowed the food. “The vegetables literally popped with juice and flavor as I bit into them. The meats create a savory taste that blend well with all the toppings. If you want something to fill you up quickly, this is the pie to eat.”

Heat was munching on his slice as he nodded in agreement, “It’s very good. The sweetness from the pineapple makes for a pleasant contrast to the saltiness of the cheese and garlic. It’s simple, crunchy, and daring.”

Killer bobbed his head up and down as he listened to his taste testers. Pushing slices of his pizza to them as they each finished their respective slices.

“Hmmm a little heavy on the carbs side but that doesn’t detract from the taste,” Kid said through another full mouth. “It’s fun though, don’t see pasta on pizza often but of course that’s your style, bud. It’s a good pie, I give it a 10/10.”

“I’d give it an 11/10,” Heat argues. “I don’t think you’re giving enough credit to the blended cheese here. I mean we have sharp and white cheddar, mozzarella, gorgonzola, parmesan, AND goat cheese! It’s the ultimate cheesy blend! This is perfect for a heavy lunch that’ll knock you right out.”

“Ultra cheesy, juicy, crispy, crunchy, and savory. That hits all the benchmarks when making a delicious pizza,” Killer began to wrap up the episode. “Can’t wait to dig in myself but first I need to trash my ruined clothes and double check that my hair hasn’t been harmed. If it has, well let’s just say someone’s gonna die. Tune in next time when I make something from back home that we all love - Cranachan. It’s easy to prepare especially in a group setting, and like everything else I make, slays. This has been Faffaffaffa-Food with Killer.”

End of video.

Bonus: The comment section

Unprofessional_Cook: My favorite pizza topping is Chipotle Cajun shrimp with a guacamole base. What say you, Chef? KillerCook: I say, I’m calling the police. You are a menace to society and you must be stopped.

J0ker: Is a fire the reason why our favorite punk has no eyebrows? PunkNeverDied69: Fuck – and I cannot stress this enough – all the way off.

305_Til.I.Die: Ok but like…what happened? What caused the fireball? FlamingHot420: Poor judgment.

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