#Express them in this piece... well an ATTEMPT was made at least.

[qwanderer]

Hello again! This time I'm pulling together a few different ideas from @wordsinhaled @nix-nihili @idliketobeatree and myself to create:

Five brunches that were just for Edwin and Crystal, and one where Niko was invited too!

CW: references to stalking and abuse

1. Cinnamon Swirl Muffins

Years ago

They became aware of each other when they both reviewed the same restaurant.

Edwin could find no fault in the place. The food was technically perfect in every way, precisely plated, the ingredients fresh and the combinations of flavors well reasoned. He had obviously given the place a glowing review.

The comments on that particular entry on his blog included a link to Crystal's vlog, and her review scornfully insisting that the place had no soul at all and that visiting it had been the most stultifyingly boring experience she'd ever had at a place.

Not in so many words. She was brash and casual; she swore freely in her reviews. Overall, she struck him as rude and uncouth, a troll, rather than a serious critic.

Edwin would have dismissed her out of hand, but the popularity of her videos far outstripped his little blog's readership.

He gave into the temptation to disparage her video in the comments. She countered, calling him snooty and snobby.

And thus begun their rivalry.

They argued over restaurants, recipes, techniques; he critiqued her pans and the fact that she kept her knives loose in a drawer! He stood by all his positions, but he kept at it because it was entertaining, and because it drew attention to his own blog. It was mutually beneficial, really.

The cinnamon swirl muffin recipe was the breaking point, however.

He'd once been given some bad milk as a prank by the other boys at school and he'd been wretchedly sick for days. Crystal's position was inexplicable and utterly irresponsible. Food critics were supposed to be advocates for the best of everything, and certainly shouldn't be suggesting people consume anything that had gone off.

Crystal Palace Surname-Von Hoverkraft, however, was adamant that the best way to make her cinnamon swirl muffins was with sour milk.

After a long back-and-forth, Edwin reluctantly agreed to meet at Crystal's flat for a tasting. She, of course, filmed him with her phone as she set the muffins in front of him.

They did smell appealing, but that was no guarantee.

"If I am subjected to food poisoning because of this," he told her and the camera, "I will make you regret it."

"Dude," said Crystal, "you just saw me take them out of the oven. They're still warm. All the little critters are dead. It's just like the yeast in bread. Nothing to be afraid of."

"It is not the same thing as yeast," he objected, but he'd made an agreement, and so he gingerly selected a muffin, breaking off a small piece of it. He sniffed it.

"You're stalling, you coward," Crystal goaded him, but her expression held a humor that the camera couldn't see.

"Excuse me, I am savoring," he told her with raised eyebrows, "or at least attempting to."

"Well, go on, then. Savor away."

Edwin popped the piece of muffin into his mouth.

It had a light, resilient moisture and a buttery taste that formed a marvelous contrast with the flavorful sweetness of the cinnamon swirls. He frowned at the rest of the muffin in consternation, and then took another bite.

It was just as undeniably delightful as the first.

"So," Crystal asked pointedly. "What's the verdict?"

He narrowed his eyes at the camera. He gave a long sigh. And he said, "I am forced to admit that these are delicious."

She laughed at him, and turned the camera on herself. "There you have it, folks!" she crowed. "Even the great Edwin Payne of Deconstructed Palates has to bow to the superiority of my muffin recipe secrets!"

She turned off the recording. "Thanks for humoring me," she said. "That's gonna go viral, just see if it doesn't."

"Yes, well, only time will tell if I suffer any harm from this," he said ruefully.

"Nah," said Crystal. "I mean, I stand by my recipe, it's not dangerous, but also I didn't have any old milk so I just put a little vinegar into some fresh milk instead. It does the trick."

Edwin blinked at her. "That is dishonest," he said.

"Yeah, well." She shrugged. "Sometimes that's show biz."

He had to admit that he felt better knowing he hadn't actually eaten anything rotten.

That was the beginning of regular brunches between the two. These were not for public consumption, but instead showcases of skill at first, showing off and trying to one up the other. That changed fairly quickly; they both had too much respect for the food to use spite as a heavy seasoning. Instead it became for the pure joy of cooking for someone else. After all, breakfast food had always been one of Edwin's particular favorites to indulge in, and having someone to cook for made it even better.

2: Full English

Years ago

Edwin began to worry when Crystal stopped talking about her partner, David, and continued to worry when she stopped inviting Edwin to brunch at hers.

They still traded off cooking each time they met. Her excuse, that "Your kitchen is just better, Edwin," was undoubtedly true, but he could tell that wasn't the full story. He knew very well that she could work wonders in that little kitchen.

Her videos became shorter and more sporadic.

And then came the first time she'd ever cancelled on him.

He wouldn't have thought anything of it, but even over the phone her voice had the barest tremble in it, and it was as if he could hear his younger self in it, the desperate attempts at composure to fend off something worse.

"Crystal," he said carefully, "if you need anything, I am here."

There was silence for a moment.

"We're not even really friends," she said. "We're rivals. Just happen to both be in the business of food." But she didn't sound happy about it.

"We are friends," he told her, "and I mean it. If you need anything, please tell me."

The following silence was longer, and then she said, very quietly, "Can you help me move out?"

—

He came over early the next morning after David had left for work, and helped her pack the essentials, anything she'd need and anything she couldn't bear to part with. A futon and a folding table that just barely fit into her car. The entire contents of her kitchen.

She'd found a place above a butcher's shop that Edwin had never been to, but which was apparently the subject of one of Crystal's videos. The proprietor was frightening, but also sharp and sarcastic in a way that Edwin could appreciate, and he'd gotten distracted while carrying a box of Crystal's things by some educational and visually appealing signage that she had in her shop.

Once they'd gotten all of Crystal's things up to the new flat, she sat down at the folding table with a heavy sigh. "Ugh," she said, putting her hands to her head. "How do I even. Like. Do anything. Just keep doing life things like everything is normal." She looked around the strange kitchen, seeming utterly lost. "And it's my turn to do brunch, and you're supposed to feed people who help you move."

"Not to worry," said Edwin, assessing the tiny kitchen. "I will cook this morning."

"No, hey, it's really my turn to cook," Crystal said, shaking her head. "And I know you always like to have a plan ahead of time."

"I am always prepared to cook a full English breakfast," he told her.

She huffed out a sigh, staring him down. "Edwin Everett Eleazar Payne," she said, "you have done more than enough to help me today."

He did not back down. "Crystal Palace Surname-Von Hoverkraft," he replied, "you are the closest thing to family I have, and you cannot stop me from doing what I can for you when you are going through hardships."

"Oh," she said, her voice small. "Yeah, okay."

"There are some components that are not ready to hand, but I can go out to the shops, it won't take long."

"I don't…" Crystal stopped herself. "No, sorry, it's silly."

"I am sure it is not," Edwin told her.

"I don't want you to leave just yet," she admitted.

He knew there were things more important than the food right now. But his stubborn instinct for serving a proper meal led him to ask, "Would you be all right if I popped downstairs for a bit of bacon? I'll be less than a moment."

Crystal smiled tiredly. "That is gonna be nice, isn't it?" she said. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll go bother you if you take too long."

—

They chatted as Crystal moved things around the flat a bit aimlessly and Edwin familiarized himself with Crystal's new kitchen, putting things in better order as he went, and started the familiar motions of putting together a simple breakfast.

"Hate to say it," Crystal said, "but it's a little sad that I'm the closest thing you have to family when I wasn't even sure you liked me until yesterday."

Edwin gave her a look. "You should know by now that I am brutally honest when I don't enjoy an experience."

"Yeah, unless you can’t come up with some technical explanation to hide behind, so you convince yourself you should like it," she argued.

There was, unfortunately, some truth to that, Edwin knew. "Fair," he said, and turned to face her. "Crystal, I enjoy our brunches immensely."

"Good," she said. "But. So. Really? You don't have anyone else like that? No family?"

"I have relations," Edwin told her. "We are not close."

"No, yeah, I get that," Crystal said, opening up a box and poking through it. "My parents aren't really. Around. They don't really care what I do or what happens to me."

Edwin thought about what that would have been like.

"My parents cared very much what I did, at one point," he offered.

"At least that's something," Crystal sighed.

"Perhaps," Edwin said. "But what they wanted was a son with flawless social graces, not prone to emotional outbursts, heterosexual, and inclined to the study of law."

"God. That explains so much." She shook her head. "I guess we're both screwed up, just in opposite directions."

It was true. And she was his closest friend, and he had seen so many of her vulnerabilities today.

"I can still feel it," Edwin said. "The weight of their eyes on me when I did anything even the slightest bit wrong. Laugh too loudly, eat too eagerly, slouch, complain. Come down to dinner in anything less than perfect dress for the occasion. They would make me leave the table, and I would go hungry."

"Fuck," Crystal said passionately. "Yeah. That doesn't sound better. I mean, yeah, I was ordering my own pizza when I was like, seven, but at least that meant I got to eat whenever I wanted."

"That doesn't make it right," he told her.

"I'm starting to get that," she said. "So, that happened a lot?"

"Regularly." Edwin sighed as he cracked the eggs into the pan. "And even when I learned not to actively disappoint, I still could not be the boy they wanted. Could never bring a nice girl home for them to meet, or pretend to be interested in discussions of law and finance. There was always some pointed remark that made it clear I was falling short."

He frowned down at the pan for a moment before retrieving bread for toast.

"I remember the times when every relative absolutely had to ask where I was planning on going to university. And of course I couldn't answer. I'd applied to the places my parents had most strenuously insisted on, to keep them mollified. But I already knew I wasn't going. I hid the culinary school applications. Hid the whole idea, until I couldn't anymore. And oh, when I told them, how they made their displeasure known. But I had committed, by then. I had made a plan. And it didn't involve them. My life would never involve them again, not really."

Crystal hummed softly, and Edwin became suddenly aware of what Crystal was currently going through.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I'm going on and on about my troubles, and you…"

"No, I don't want to talk about it right now," she interrupted. "Thanks for asking. Your sob story is a nice distraction, actually." She closed the box she'd been looking through and set it back down where it had been. "When you went to school, did things get easier?"

There was something wistful to the tone of her voice.

Edwin remembered that Crystal hadn't gone to university. That Edwin himself had made her very aware of that fact, on multiple occasions, when she hadn't known something that he'd learned in his very most basic classes.

He hadn't known any of it before those classes.

But the fact was that Crystal didn't need a degree in culinary arts to be a very effective food critic, a voice people listened to for a reason. He resolved not to do any more to make her feel as if she might be missing some crucial piece of expertise.

"Some things did get easier," he told her. "I had the space and resources to learn what I wished to learn. There was still homophobia and bullying, still expectations I couldn't possibly live up to. But I am not there anymore, either."

Crystal laughed darkly. "Look at us. Me needing so badly to be looked at that I move in with the first controlling abusive asshole who gives me any attention at all. And you needing so badly not to be looked at that your only friend didn't even know you were friends."

Edwin turned to look her in the eye again. "We're done with that," he told her emphatically. "We've found our way here."

Crystal got up and started towards him, and Edwin glanced at the eggs, turning off the hob before he could be tackled into a desperate, tight hug that he didn't know how to return.

But for Crystal, he would learn.

3. Spiced Onion Crepes

Months Ago

"Woah," Crystal said as soon as she walked into his flat. "Something smells really good."

"Is that so terribly unusual?" Edwin asked lightheartedly.

"Well, no," Crystal said, making her way to the kitchen. "But this is different. What are you making?"

"It's a spiced onion crepe," Edwin told her.

"Never heard of that," Crystal said, going over to peer at the mess on his counter. "Is it a new recipe you found somewhere, or have you been holding out on me?"

"I've been experimenting with some new flavors, if you must know," Edwin said, shooing her away to the table so he could continue cooking.

"Huh. Just out of the blue?" Crystal asked pointedly.

And Edwin wished he had lied, said he found the idea somewhere, because how could he explain that this fresh new burst of experimentation was because of Charles?

Charles, whom he barely knew, but whose smile he just couldn't forget about. Contagious even to think about.

Edwin finished up, plating the crepes and bringing them to the table.

"Okay, I have to try these," Crystal said, grabbing her plate out of his hand and digging in.

He rolled his eyes fondly and set his own plate down properly.

"Oh my god," Crystal said between bites, "I need this one for my recipe box, just so you know."

"I'll be sure to write it up for you," Edwin promised, taking his own first bite.

He'd had an idea of how he wanted it to taste, and he'd tasted some elements while cooking, of course, but, with everything together, as it was meant to be, there was a brightness to it, a liveliness, that surpassed his imagination, and that was unlike anything he had ever cooked before.

And Edwin knew who he owed the thanks for that.

"Ok, something is going on with you," Crystal said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "What's got you smiling like that? You never smile like that."

"Like what?" Edwin asked.

"With teeth!" she exclaimed. "Come on. Tell me."

Edwin hesitated. It really was embarrassing how little time with Charles it had taken to influence him so much. By all rights there shouldn't be anything to tell, not yet.

"So there is something!"

"Crystal—"

"Don't Crystal me, Edwin—"

"Oh, all right," Edwin said, taking a breath. "It's just... I met someone, not long ago, and he..."

"You what?" Crystal's eyes went huge. "Where? When? You never go out—"

"It is not like that!" he hastened to correct. "It is not like that at all. I. I met him through work. He's. Well. He's the proprietor of an establishment I recently critiqued and I... find myself quite... well. I find I cannot stop thinking of him." Edwin laughed ruefully at himself. "It is rather silly, really, we have only met the once."

"Damn, Edwin. Who is this guy?"

Edwin knew he could never explain the impression Charles Rowland had made on him. But he felt compelled to try.

"When I was taking my nutrition courses," he said, "we read a scientific study which found that people absorb more nutrition from the food they enjoy and prefer, even over food that is nutritionally identical. That meant that joy was important to feeding the body. The pleasure of food is vitally important." He smiled. "At the time, it sounded like utter nonsense."

"It doesn't anymore?" Crystal asked.

Edwin peered down at the magical thing that he'd created. It felt like it had to be doing more for him than simply an average breakfast.

"I knew that I wanted to study the art of food for the joy it could bring," he said. "But somehow it is only now that I think I am beginning to understand exactly how much joy that can be, and how it fits into everything else that food is." He paused, thinking back over what he'd said and cringing. "No, sorry, I'm not making much sense, I'm afraid."

"I'd agree it sounds pretty out there," Crystal said, "but I just ate these amazing crepes? So I guess the proof is in the pudding."

Edwin laughed.

4. Idli, Chutney and Mango Lassi

Weeks Ago

It was just a snatch of unguarded conversation in the comments of an Instagram post that must have done it, Edwin thought in retrospect.

Niko Sasaki: I wouldn't want to get in the way of your brunches. I know they're important.

Crystal Palace: Not a problem. We're just gonna meet there this week. I swear, he spends more time cooking at that place than he does in his own home these days.

—

Edwin was quite proud of his latest batch of chutney. It might have been Aadhya's recipe, but she'd given the compliment of telling him that it tasted exactly right. That if she hadn't known better, she would have thought she'd made it herself.

He was stretching the rules of brunch this week because he hadn't been the one making the idli this morning, but he told himself it really wasn't so different than serving toast made out of storebought bread, which was obviously allowed.

"I'll bring you guys your drinks in a sec," Charles said, watching Edwin contemplate trying to carry everything at once. "So you don't have to be back and forth once you sit down to eat."

"Thank you," Edwin said gratefully, and carried the food to the small table Crystal had claimed where he sat, eager to explain the intricacies of the chutney technique.

They had only gotten a few bites in when Crystal stiffened. A cautious mood came over her that Edwin hadn't seen since…

"Oh my god, how did he find this place," she murmured, trying to hide her face and look casual at the same time.

Since he'd helped her move.

Edwin knew who he would see even before he turned his head.

"Fuck," he said, seeing David by the host station.

"I didn't know you swore," Charles said, coming up to their table with raised eyebrows.

"I do when I see Crystal's horrific ex," Edwin said darkly.

"Fuck, where?" Charles looked around as if he'd be able to spot David based on nothing but his aura, never having seen a picture of him.

Crystal blew out a breath. "It's been like two years since I dumped his ass, I cannot believe he's still trying to pull this shit," she grumbled.

"Well, maybe he's not here for you?" Charles suggested, although he looked a bit dubious about it himself.

Then David spotted them and strode towards their table. "Crystal! Crystal I'm so glad I ran into you, I really want to talk."

"No," Crystal said loudly.

Charles stepped between them before David could get within two meters of the table.

"Come on, babe," David said, craning his neck to peer around Charles.

"She said no," Charles told him pointedly.

"This isn't your business," David snapped at Charles.

"You are literally standing in my business," Charles countered.

David pushed forward, Charles pushed him back. It may or may not have been accidental that he used the same hand that held a brimming glass of mango lassi.

Which was now streaming down David's front.

"Fuck," David said, looking down at his yogurt soaked clothes.

"Right," Charles said. "Get the fuck out of my restaurant. Now."

David growled at him for a moment.

"Go!" Charles pointed to the door.

Only then did David turn around and leave, dripping as he went.

Charles winced. "Sorry about your drink," he said to Crystal. "I'll get you another."

"No, do not apologize for that," Crystal told him, looking impressed. "That was amazing."

"Well then," said Charles, grinning. "Don't worry. I'll always spill drinks on a raging dick for you."

"Ugh, thanks, you're the best," she told him.

Edwin couldn't help but agree.

5. Apricot Scones

Last Week

"So are you gonna make a move on your boy or not?"

Edwin nearly inhaled scone crumbs.

"Crystal, he is not my boy—"

"Yeah, not yet!" Crystal gestured at him exasperatedly. "Because you won't do anything about it. That's what I'm saying. Are you going to do something about it or not?"

Edwin opened his mouth to answer, wavered, then began, "I cannot simply—no matter what I feel for Charles, I—that is not how one makes decisions, Crystal, simply based on how they are feeling in the moment!"

Crystal gave a judgemental hum, clearly unconvinced.

"This is not…" Edwin sighed. "It's not a question of a bit of self-conciousness I need to be prodded out of. We both know I'm not shy about my interest when the situation calls for it," he pointed out.

"You mean when it's someone you don't really give a rat's ass whether they respect you in the morning or not," she said ruthlessly.

Edwin wanted to be able to argue, but he thought of the obvious example, his longest relationship to date.

Crystal had taken him to the restaurant where that began, as it did, with an overheard, half-joking "I could kiss whoever made this."

Thomas had taken him up on that, taken him home with Crystal's teasing good wishes, and Edwin had thought of the whole thing as fun, a lark, until Thomas had come down with feelings.

Edwin had tried, honestly tried, but it simply wasn't what he wanted.

Charles was what he wanted. But the nature of the relationship was so much less important than the time spent. The trust, the closeness. Everything they already had.

Perhaps this was the first time he truly cared how things might progress. The first person he was both attracted to and wanted to impress. Perhaps Crystal was right that he was brave only when it didn't count.

That weight was no less felt for having been pointed out.

"This is not something I can afford to ruin," he told her. "This show, the restaurant, it's important. To Charles, and to his mother. I could damage our professional relationship. And our friendship."

Edwin thought of how difficult it had been, thinking that Charles did not view their friendship as important enough to confide in Edwin about major events in his life. His mouth went dry.

"I could..." His voice failed. He started over. "I could lose Charles," he managed. "And that is... unthinkable."

"Okay," said Crystal, buttering another scone, "you've clearly already thought about this a lot. Like. Way too much. You do know you're completely gone for him, right?"

"I am entirely aware," Edwin said pointedly.

"And he's clearly pretty damn attached to you. Do you think it's fair to him to keep this secret?"

That—

Crystal might have a point about that. Just possibly.

But it made her a terrible hypocrite to say so.

"Alright, then why haven't you told Niko how you feel yet?" Edwin asked her.

"That's—" Crystal put down her scone in order to glare at him more petulantly. "That's different. She's busy, her career is just taking off—I can't fucking distract her with this." She stared into the jam jar morosely. "Besides, I'm not even sure she likes me like... that."

Edwin recalled vividly every time he had gone to visit Crystal only to find her in Niko's apartment instead, how often their conversations turned to Niko's accomplishments, how Niko looked at Crystal like she'd hung the moon, how when Edwin was helping Crystal move in, Niko had peeked her head out and gone completely still with the most wonderstruck look on her face.

He cleared his throat. "Crystal. I hesitate to criticize in such strong terms, but—"

"Please," she said. "You love to criticize. Don't front."

"Fine. Are you a fucking idiot, Crystal?"

She blinked at him for a moment.

"So you, uh…" She bit her lip. "You're pretty sure she likes me back?"

"I am certain," Edwin said.

She thought about that for a moment, and then shook her head. "Right, okay, and you can't see that Charles is like, way more enthusiastic about you?"

That wasn't a good point of comparison. "Charles is enthusiastic about everything," Edwin argued. "He exudes enthusiasm. It's what he does. Niko… is more selective in what she shows. The moments when she is speechless are most convincing to me."

Crystal looked like she really wanted to believe him.

"I don't know," she said.

"Well, you can certainly understand why I hesitate, then," he concluded, reaching for another scone for himself.

She pointed directly at him. "Buddy. This is more than hesitation."

"Yes," he agreed without reservation. "It is."

"Right. I'm gonna need you to unpack that a little."

He buttered his scone as he thought about how to explain… all of it.

"Sometimes one person admitting that they've come down with feelings is the beginning of the end," he reminded her. "And in some cases that's for the best, but I cannot believe that about Charles and myself. For one, it is about more than Charles and myself. It involves Niko and her project, everyone who works at the restaurant, the community around it…"

"Please, even if you do end up having relationship troubles it's not going to blow up the whole restaurant," Crystal said, rolling her eyes.

"But so much of it rests on Charles and Aadhya."

"Stop," Crystal said, holding up a halting hand. "Stop, nope, please stop and think about what's best for you for a minute, okay? Just for a minute."

Edwin let out a breath, and did.

He thought about the first time he'd been invited to share a meal by Charles and Aadhya not at the restaurant, but at their home.

They had served themselves out of communal dishes, nothing formally plated, and it had felt warm and intimate, like being on the inside of their lives instead of merely brushing up against each other.

That feeling was more important than anything else.

"So much of what makes my life feel worth living right now rests on Charles and Aadhya," he persisted.

A strange expression crossed Crystal's face.

"I'm glad I'm not the closest thing you have to family anymore," she said.

"You are my family," he told her firmly. "And so are they. And now I can say that with confidence because I know without a doubt what family should be."

Crystal blinked, and then wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and then said, "Yeah, okay, I get it." After a moment she gave him a brilliant smile. "Things are pretty great right now, huh?"

"Indeed they are," he agreed.

+1: Raspberry Beignets

Today

Crystal's flat smelled utterly heavenly. Coffee, fried dough, a tang of…raspberries. The scents drifted through the hallway, as she'd left her door open.

"Crystal?" Edwin called, not wanting to step in unannounced.

"Hey, Edwin, come on in," she answered, and as Edwin drew closer, he could hear her humming to herself.

That meant she was in a very good mood indeed.

He found her in her kitchen, dusting powdered sugar over red-speckled beignets and grinning from ear to ear.

There were three places set at the table.

Edwin blinked, just to make sure he wasn't seeing things.

"Crystal," he asked carefully, "why are there three place settings?"

"Oh, right," said Crystal, and her grin got impossibly wider. "So. A thing happened."

"A thing happened," Edwin repeated blankly.

"Well you know how it is," she said. "I love to prove you wrong."

"You do, in fact," he admitted. "What is this about, exactly?"

"Well, last week you said you were certain about something," she said. "And, well, I guess it turned out that spite was the thing that finally got me to test your theory?" She laughed, moving the beignets to the table.

Edwin cast his mind back to their conversation the previous week. And saying he was certain did ring a bell. About—

"So I asked Niko on a date," Crystal told him delightedly. "And I am forced to admit," she said, imitating his accent as she echoed the line from that very first brunch, "that you were right."

"Oh!" Edwin said. "She said yes, then?"

"I did," said Niko from the door.

"Hey, babe!" Crystal said.

"Hello, Niko," Edwin greeted her with a smile.

"Are you sure this is okay?" Niko asked, inching her way into the flat. "I don't want to intrude, I know brunch is usually a you two thing."

"I have absolutely no objection," Edwin told her.

And he didn't. Niko had quickly developed from an occasional acquaintance to a close friend over the past months, as they worked on the show together. She was a consummate professional when the situation called for it, and sweetly charming in a more personal setting. If Crystal felt comfortable with her here, then so did Edwin.

Niko squeaked joyfully, and rushed over to kiss Crystal on the cheek before taking her place at the table. "Those smell sooooo good," she said, looking at the heap of beignets.

"So," said Crystal as they also settled into their chairs, "any chance of you following my example anytime soon and confessing your feelings for a certain guy?"

"Crystal!" Edwin hissed.

"Wait, you and Charles still aren't dating?" Niko asked.

"No!" Edwin directed his exasperation at Niko this time.

"Oh," Niko said with wide eyes. "I thought you two had finally figured things out after that awful promo shoot. So Charles was actually staying over because you were actually super sick? Sorry, I totally thought that was code for… something else."

Edwin sighed deeply.

"I was, maybe, possibly, being a bit of an idiot about some things," he admitted, "and we cleared those up, but his friendship is too important to me to destabilize anything by bringing up romance."

Niko and Crystal gave each other a long, meaningful look and then Niko said, "Yeah, but the great thing is, the friendship doesn't disappear just because you get to kiss someone now. None of the good stuff does."

"Yeah, totally," Crystal agreed with an absolutely hopeless, lovestruck smile. Niko giggled in return, and their hands twined together on the table. Then, natural as breathing, they leaned in and kissed, soft and sweet and so, so happy.

Edwin eyed them thoughtfully.

It did give him hope.

3/? - Restaurant owner / chef Charles / Food critic Edwin AU - continued!

Hello, lovely folks - the restaurant AU continues and has outgrown its last thread, which is amazing! Here's a new reblog chain to reblog from and continue the journey <3 I'll also be updating the masterpost to add this one!

You can read the AU from the beginning here!

The masterpost for the AU is here!

[elegantauthor]

Saving Grace Chapter 21

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Aurora Stark

Summary: The hour grows late, and Bucky tries not to spiral.

Warnings: mentions of memory loss

Series Masterlist

Bucky’s memories were like shards of a mirror; he would try to put them in their proper place, only for them to jut out in all the wrong directions. There was always another memory, or no memory at all—an empty fragment in the void of his brain. How could he ever be whole again without all the pieces?

He grappled with memory loss every day, ever since Wakanda. Shuri and Ayo removed the code words, but they couldn’t give him back the seventy plus years under HYDRA control. No one could. Aurora’s attempts to revive the man he once was were well-meaning, but she was a bit too idealistic at times.

He couldn’t blame her; she was a young woman, prone to flights of fancy, as all were at that age. Hell, when he was her age, he dreamt of being a scientist. World War II started, and he enlisted in the Army. The life he’d dreamt of shredded, along with his memory, every time he was put in the chair and his mind wiped. Every murder was a blemish on his soul. He was a broken man, tattered and tainted.

How could anyone love him? He was not the youthful man he’d been in the Forties. He was not the soldier off to fight someone else’s war in another country. He also wasn’t what HYDRA made him. At the same time, he was an amalgamation of it all.

He oft wondered if he could remember, would he want to? Would the happier times trigger more grief? These were the questions that kept him up at night. The ruminations of a wanderer in a cavernous expanse of darkness staring back at him when he closed his eyes.

Now, as the hours ticked by and every second counted, that expanse increased tenfold. Nagged at his conscience until he willingly opened the floodgate. It wasn’t a pleasant memory, but it reminded him why he was doing this in the first place. Because, as demons do, the temptation to leave Aurora with Baron Helmut Zemo had crossed the barren wasteland of his mind at least once during the near forty hours he’d spent searching for her.

Zemo, with all his finery, would make for a suitable partner. He could give her everything her heart desired; a private jet, lavish homes across Europe. She was a Stark. A demigoddess. What in God’s good name was she doing with a man like him?

~ * ~

Six years ago

“Goddammit, Aurora!”

The woman before him jolted, and immediately, he saw the tension in her shoulders. He didn’t have it in him to feel remorse. He stared at her with a hardened expression, working his jaw as he premediated a response to yet another of her sassy remarks.

When no such retort came, Bucky dragged his hand down his face and sighed. “I’m not— I’m not the man you want me to be. I’m sorry I can’t be him.”

Instead of extinguishing her fire, which he partly expected, Aurora smiled softly up at him. “Bucky, I don’t want you to be anyone but yourself. I know I can come off as willful and naïve…”

“You don’t say?” A small smirk tugged the corners of his mouth.

“Yes, I’m an idealist, but you have to understand… My dad is a genius, the innovator of our time. Kind of impossible not to absorb some of that idealism. But,” she stated with emphasis, “I’m not trying to push my beliefs on you. Do I think it’s cool that you’re from the Forties? Yes, I do. The best of both worlds. Innovation with good, old-fashioned values.”

“You certainly have a knack for blending opposing philosophies. Get that from your ma?”

Aurora laughed. “Maybe… I mean, she’s been around for eons.”

Suddenly, realization dawned on him, and his eyes softened. “I think I understand. You see a little of you in me, don’t you?”

Humming, she walked around the hut. Bucky knew her well enough to know when she did that, she was thinking. Tony did that, too, Steve informed him. “You’re a man plucked out of time, I’m a woman who will see just as many decades or more pass before my own time ends. I think too much about the concepts of infinity, eternity, forever, but I can’t quantify them, and that scares me.”

“Ah, so I’m a science experiment,” he said, grinning.

Matching his grin, Aurora shook her head. “You’re impossible. I’m impossible. Steve is impossible. Yet, here we are. Beings of myth and legend.”

“Legacy…”

“Yes,” she snapped her fingers and pointed, “legacy. The demigoddess and the Winter Soldier.”

“Sounds like a bad porno.”

“Bucky!” she giggled.

He crossed the room in two strides, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close. “I don’t wanna lose you… I don’t wanna keep pushing you away… Can you accept that I may never recover from some things? Can you accept me for who I am?”

“Of course,” Aurora murmured in earnest. “I’m sorry for overstepping. I never meant to hurt you.”

He shuddered a breath, nodding. “I wanna see what you see in me…”

He closed his eyes, as she cupped her palm around his face. “I know I get carried away with potentiality, the future, but… I see you, Bucky. I love you. Just the way you are.”

He opened his eyes, staring down deeply into hers and getting lost in the golden pools of light. “You’re a lot like him, you know.”

“Who?”

“Your grandfather. He was a man ahead of his time. The night before my unit shipped out, I was at Stark Expo.”

“I suppose some things truly are meant to be.”

Bucky nodded, the lyrics of Elvis’ song cementing the moment.

[chiropteracupola]

And you would not believe me if I tried / To tell you all the things I've seen / And all the places that I've been / So pour the hall another cup of wine...

[a cei for @mortiscausa’s ’march to camelot,’ for the prompt ‘kinship’]

[alicentofhightower]

the cost of a dragon

pairing: addam velaryon x wife!reader

synopsis: addam is covered in cuts and scrapes from falling and running in the forest, and now you must take care of him.

includes: fluff, episode 6 heavy spoilers, probably historically inaccurate w some parts but we’re just gonna Let That Slide, not proofread again oops

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i love him so bad. rn my top 3 tb characters are rhaenyra rhaena and addam. he’s so sweet!! i really hope we get to see a lot more of him in the next few episodes

-

Addam is bewildered when he returns to your home, panting, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’ve never seen him like this, but you guess that it’s the dragon laying beside your house that’s done it.

“What’s happened?” You exclaim when you see the way he’s stumbled in, bleeding from a cut on his cheek.

“…The, the dragon,” He mumbles, locked hair spilling over his shoulders. Addam walks over to where you stand by the kitchen table, hands gently grasping your forearms, as yours do his, thumbs running over your skin to ground himself. He smells strange, like something otherworldly. Could it have been because of the beast outside your door?

“It came to me, followed me through the woods by the shore. I think I’ve claimed him. Yes, that’s what I’ve done. I must go.” Addam attempts to retract himself from your grip, but to no avail.

The pots and pans inside rattle when the silver creature lay its head on the yard outside, no doubt resting from its flight. “Please, my love,” Addam insists. “I need to go and see the queen myself. She is in need of more dragons herself, is she not? If I serve her, perhaps she will allow you and I to live at Dragonstone with her. This is our chance.”

You shake your head, apron ruffling from the beach’s wind blowing through the window. Addam has always been ambitious, has always wanted the best for you and himself. He’s fiercely loyal to you, a quality that made you want to marry him in the first place.

“Addam.” Your hands fly up to cup his cheeks, stopping him from continuing on with his tangent. “You’re covered in gashes and dirt and sand. At least let me lend you a hand.”

He softens at that, jaw seeming to unclench. Addam’s brown eyes have always been expressive, and now they seem to look at you as if you’re the sweetest person he’s ever known. “…I suppose you’re right,” He mutters, “but we must make haste.”

Finally, you let go of each other. You use one of your hands to intertwine your fingers with his, and the other to grip your skirts as you lead him to your room. It’s small and modest, mostly swallowed up by the bed you share. “Sit,” You say, almost commandingly, quickly fetching a spare piece of cloth by the tub in the main room and a bowl of water.

Addam’s eyes almost glint at the way you flounce about before him. He spreads his legs so you are able to stand between them, chin tilting up so he can make eye contact with you while you fix him up.

“Let me see.”

He holds out his right arm, palm up, covered in tiny scratches and sand from his poor attempt to escape from his new dragon. Seasmoke, he remembers. Addam squeezes your right hand lightly while the other cleans him up.

You barely manage to suppress a heavy scoff at the mess in front of you, but you dab gently at it with the towel anyway, soaked with water. “What did you do?” You ask, brows knitting together. “Did you try to run from it?”

“Yes,” He admits, face scrunching together at the fresh memory. You’ve told him to be careful of the sky-beasts constantly looming over the two of you, and he knows he’ll be scolded for trying to escape the damn thing.

You shake your head, mostly to yourself, and Addam’s shoulders deflate. “Well, what would you have done?” He asks, exasperated. “My apologies for wanting to come home to you tonight.”

You pinch his arm. “I only worry for you,” You say, voice soft. Addam and his brother, Alyn, are the only family you’ve left; you’d never known your father, and your sweet mother had died of a fever shortly after your seventeenth nameday. She hadn’t been able to last, to see you wed the man you love so dearly.

“…What will you say, when you see Queen Rhaenyra? She may think you are coming as a foe, to battle rather than service.”

Addam hisses as you brush against a particularly deep cut, eyes squeezing shut. “Sorry,” You say, and he only tips your interlaced fingers up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand.

Your husband pauses after he lets your hands back down, considering the weight of whatever his words to the Black Queen will mean. He almost thinks of it as a duty, to you and his brother. To further your ever so small family.

“I suppose the words will come to me when it happens.” He swallows harshly, eyes averted from yours, darting around like he’s telling himself to fucking think.

You’ve moved onto his other arm, now, and suddenly the odor of him has become unbearable. It’s nothing like anything you’ve smelled before.

Grimacing, you drop the washcloth and cover your nose with your hand, taking a step back. “What?” questions Addam, clearly confused. “What’s the matter?”

“Gods, you fucking stink. What is that?”

Addam laughs. He laughs, tension seeping out of him as he does. “It must be the dragon,” He claims, reaching out to grab your waist and pull you back towards him. “Don’t mind it, please.”

You’re unable to fight the smile you feel blooming, because despite the fact that your husband reeks of his new dragon sleeping outside your home, and your feet are sore from walking to the markets, only to find nothing, and your nerves are set ablaze thinking of his meeting with Rhaenyra, Addam is here. He’s here with you, holding you, safe in the comfort of your humble little home.

The feeling is fleeting, only settling in you for a moment, but you tip your head down to press a kiss to his mouth. “You must be vigilant,” You plead when you pull away, ignoring the way Addam’s lips seem to chase after yours. “And you must return to me. I do not know what I would do if I were to lose you.”

“I will be. I swear it.”

You brush away the dried blood on his cheek with the cloth, frowning. “We should leave, shouldn’t we? Fly to Essos, where we will be safe without the threat of war. That dragon is large enough to saddle three, isn’t it? We can go-“

A thumb soothingly presses against your lips, silencing you. “…If I can put the thing to use, it will strengthen us. Strengthen whatever I have with my father.”

Addam had always been desperate to get the same attention from Lord Corlys that Alyn had always seemed to receive after he’d saved the man. You’d never spoken to the Lord Velaryon yourself before, but it was hard to miss the way he’d stare at you when you visited your husband in the shipyard, almost melancholically.

“I do not care for jewels and gowns and for you to be gilded in glory, Addam,” You state, pushing his wrist away from your face. “I care for you. Should we not go now? I could find your brother.”

“No.” He shakes his head, standing from the bed, now towering over you. His fingers, callused from his seemingly never-ending work on Lord Corlys’s ship, caress your waist almost reverently.

Almost every inch of your skin heats up when Addam leans down to kiss your chest, right where your heart is. The skin is covered by the sea-blue gown you wear, a white apron tied about your waist, and you shudder at the feel of his lips on such an intimate spot.

He kisses up from your bosom to your mouth again, firm and sweet and longing. There’s no guarantee you’ll ever see him again, but some strange part of you feels that all will be well. It’s a naive thought, perhaps, but one you welcome nonetheless.

“I will come back to you,” He promises, voice rasping. “I love you.”

[dwonfilm]

Teaching tech. | Soldier Boy x Reader

Summary: Butcher tasked you with the job of teaching a freshly thawed Ben, aka Soldier Boy, how to use technology. First off you started with teaching him about the iPhone.

Warnings: bit of Solider Boy being Soldier Boy but otherwise, mostly fluff.

“Dammit!” [Y/N] heard Ben’s voice from the other room and she sighed. Next was a smash and that made her rush back into the bedroom. Immediately Ben’s eyes lifted up to see her coming in and he scoffed. “I didn’t break the cocksucking thing this time.” He stated plainly. “Good,” she answered. “I don’t have the money to buy you a fourth phone.” She moved to sit on the bed next to where he was currently sitting. “This shit ain’t a phone, it’s a thin ass rock with futuristic shit inside. Phones have a base and a receiver or they were these massive bricks with buttons—not whatever the fuck a touch screen is-“ Ben ranted, but [Y/N] just laughed. “Yeah, they were those things once but this is 2022. Life’s changed a lot and eventually you’re gonna need to learn all these things.” She spoke, picking up the phone that was on the bed between them, swiping up to unlock it. Bits of her [Y/H/C] hair covered her face while her attention focused on the screen. Ben just watched, a grumpy expression on his facial features. “How’d you get stuck doing this anyway? Where’s the Cum Guzzler or the Cheerio?” She laughed, Ben’s nicknames for people were always pretty humorous. “Hughie is scared of you and Butcher can barely explain anything in the entire history of life’s existence.” Ben gently laughed at her answer. Fingers moved across the screen, making selections that she didn’t think were necessary to explain to him at the moment. “So, the bean pole’s afraid of me huh?” He asked, not really expecting an answer. However it did bring up another question. “Why aren’t you scared of me?” His tone seemed indifferent but there was a hint of something more inside his eyes. Something she was oblivious to since her own were focused on the screen of the phone in her hands. Though, she slowly gazed up from it for a moment. “Honestly,” she began with a pause directly after. It was as if she was attempting to think about how to answer him. “I was at first, a little bit, but I just try to sympathize.” He scoffed almost immediately. “You sympathize with a piece of shit like me? No wonder it’s so easy to get you women in the sack. Jesus Chris-“ She turned her head and shot a glare at him. “You can sympathize with people without wanting to fuck them, for starters.” She rolled her eyes, moving her gaze back to the phone in her hands. “No one’s perfect, not that it’s excusing.. well everything. Despite all that, no one here has any real room to judge too harshly.” Ben quirked a brow at that. “That so? Don’t tell me a pretty lil’ thing like you has baggage!” Part of him was sort of mocking her, though he was getting curious. “Moving on, I made the email for you and set up an account for you to use the phone.” She began to explain, looking over to him but finding a confused expression on his face. “E-what?” He asked plainly, green eyes gazing into her own. “Right, I forgot you have no grasp on the basics.” She turned towards him now.

“Email is pretty easy, it’s like sending letters to people—only digitally and in a much faster time period. It used to take y’know, days, weeks for those to be delivered. Now it just takes seconds—also instead of a home address you just need their email address. Does that make sense at least somewhat?” Her voice was gentle, not sarcastic or cruel. [Y/E/C] eyes meeting his green ones as he was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.. I mean it seems straightforward enough—though doing that stupid shit is gonna be harder than understanding what the fuck it is.” He answered. “Well, yeah, but we’ll get there.” [Y/N] offered a half smile at him. “No one’s asking you to be Steve Jobs after a day,” she tried to encourage him but his face was blank yet again. “Who the fuck is that?” He asked, to which she sighed gently. “…never mind, it’s not important. What I meant is that none of us are expecting you to know how to use it all within the blink of an eye.” She replied before moving her gaze back to the phone. He peered over at the phone while knitting his brows together. None of it made any sense to him. Now the screen was black again, before the stupid symbol popped up. “..the fuck is it doing now?” He asked, moving his glance to her face. “It’s updating the software,” she spoke before shifting it to an analogy he’d understand. “..which is like maintenance on a car kind of—it makes sure everything’s working and also is.. replacing the parts in a sense. Fixing things that weren’t working and replacing them with things that will work and hopefully work better.” It took a second, but the analogy did help. “Makes sense I guess.” He spoke, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes watched for a moment before he became bored, so, he did what he usually did and turned his attention to whoever was occupying the space with him. “So tell me, how’d a gorgeous gal like you get tangled up with a fucker like Butcher anyhow?” She laughed softly but she didn’t look up at him this time. Mostly to hide the fact that she was blushing just a little. [Y/N] knew that she shouldn’t be feeling this way, by all accounts this man was still Soldier Boy. He wasn’t a good person, but the more she spent time with him the more she realized he was letting her see the man behind the persona and maybe.. maybe there was more than what he’s done in the past. After all she was preaching sympathy just moments prior. “Flattery will not get you out of the tech lesson, but since it’s updating you’ve got a little wiggle room.” She took a gentle breath before beginning to tell a very condensed version of events. “Becca, Butcher’s wife, she was my mom’s best friend. When my mom got killed in a car wreck, Becca sort of.. became my maternal figure.” Ben nodded, feeling some of the strings attached to his heart pulling. “I’m sorry about that, doll.” It was the least he could say. “Where the hell was your dad?” He asked, not knowing subtly if it were to bite him on the ass. She sighed gently. “Couldn’t tell you, never met him.” Ben could sympathize with that in a way, his own father being a piece of shit and all. “Sorry ‘bout that too.” He spoke, keeping his gaze on her own. She simply nodded before the phone’s screen lit up in the bright colors again, signifying that the software update had been completed. Picking the phone up, [Y/N] swiped up to begin the process of actually setting things up. “Okay, back to this-“ she spoke but was immediately cut off by Ben’s loud groaning. “Fuck sakes, is this really necessary?” He grumbled, which caused the woman next to him to roll her eyes. “You already know the answer to that.” Again he grumbled, acting like a mix between a grumpy old man and a stubborn child. “If this was forty years ago and some fine piece of ass was trying to tell me I had to do somethin’..” She turned and her [Y/E/C] eyes met his face with a pointed glare. There was a momentary pause as Ben contemplated whether or not to continue.

However, he was mischievous by nature and so he opted to continue on with his train of thought. “..I’d have grabbed her by her pretty little chin and talked her into getting on her knees so I could show her a better way to use that mouth.” [Y/N] again rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she brushed it off and moved on immediately though Ben was wearing a little smirk. “Picturing it, aren’t ya’?” He asked, clearly attempting to make the woman flustered. She turned her gaze back towards him with a blank expression upon her face. “Picturing me, punching you in the face? Absolutely I am.” She answered, which had Ben’s smirk fall completely. “You new age women, chicks in my day would’ve been creaming their panties at the chance to get with Soldier Boy.” Ben grumbled, irritation showing on his face. It was amusing to [Y/N] that he thought he’d get her to crumble so easily. Pushing herself up into a better position she’d lean the phone towards the Supe. “Alright, so I made two emails—one has the Soldier Boy name on it, just in case there’s.. I don’t know people that have business offers or something. Granted, that’s if we all live and you don’t get thrown into jail or whatever they do to other Supes and the other is for, well, more personal shit. That’s the one I was telling you about when I mentioned it initially, the one that’s tied into everything on the phone. I downloaded some stuff but now you need to try it.” She handed the phone over to Ben, praying he wasn’t gonna break this one. It was clear that he was trying to hold it gently, which would’ve made her giggle out loud—however the man was in an overly sensitive state and she wasn’t going to push that. “Alright, so tap the icon that says ‘App Store’ and wait for it to open.” [Y/N]’s voice was gentle and Ben nodded, putting his finger over the square with that name underneath it. However he left it there and so the apps began to all shake. “What the fuck is happening?!” He exclaimed, to which she gently moved her hand and pressed the button labeled ‘done’. Now the apps went back to being still and she sighed. Gently she grabbed his index finger and lightly pulled it towards the screen again, Ben wanted to grumble but he was too distracted by how her fingers felt against his own. Where his skin was rough, battle tested and calloused.. hers was soft, maybe a scar here and there but nothing compared to his and the contrast? It was more enjoyable than he’d ever admit out loud. [Y/N] pulled his finger down toward the screen and gently tapped it against the screen to open the app. “You just gotta tap, see.” She spoke, letting go of his finger. “Huh.” He replied, but it wasn’t very loud. “Now typing on these things is probably gonna annoy you, it annoys us all and we’re used to the technology. Just.. try to not freak out and break it yeah? Shit is easy for you to snap, given y’know..” After she said that, she couldn’t help but to chuckle. When she did Ben felt himself smirking just a little. There was a split second where their eyes met and lingered, before she spoke up again. “Alright, so if you just click on this one it’ll take you to the place where you can download them. I think most things that are necessary for now are already there but I wanted you to know how to do it, so.. you like sports right?” She asked, tone kept gentle. “Uh, yeah, obviously little less on the up and up these days.” He replied, to which she nodded. “Alright well type in ‘MLB’ right there in that search bar, click it first though.” [Y/N] explained and for a moment Ben just stared at her, as if she had three heads. Eventually though he moved his gaze to the phone and tapped the screen over the search bar, which brought up the keyboard. “So.. these fucking things are called apps?” He asked, typing the three letters slowly into the bar and then she pointed to the blue button labeled ‘search’, which he tapped before looking up at her again.

“Yeah, they have one for just about everything these days.” She replied, pointing to the button that said ‘get’. Ben tapped it and the symbol to signify it was downloading appeared. Once it had finished, she smiled slightly before reaching underneath his arm for a second. “So, to close an app, you just swipe up like this.” Gently she placed her thumb on the screen and swiped upward to bring the phone back to the Home Screen. “Now, that closes it for the moment. Swiping up in a short motion brings up all the open ones like this-“ she explained, demonstrating. “Once they’re up like this you can swipe up again and fully close them.” She closed all of the currently open apps to demonstrate to him how to do it. “You really think I’m gonna remember all this shit?” He asked, almost glaring when he looked in her direction. It was a lot of information to take in, so she took a gentle breath and locked the phone. “Okay, fair, let’s take a break then.” [Y/N] placed Ben’s phone on the bed between them and slowly pulled out her own. He couldn’t help it, curiosity took hold and he glanced over. “You can put pictures on that thing?” He asked, noticing her Lock Screen photo of a drawing of the moon. Quirking a brow for a moment, she then figured out what he meant. “Oh, yeah! You can. Did you wanna do that on your phone?” Her voice was sweet as their eyes met yet again, bringing back the slight tension that continued to linger between them. “Fuck it, shit looks better than whatever the fuck it comes with.” He replied after a moment or so of silence. “Do you have anything specific you want?” She reached up with her free hand and tucked some of her [Y/H/C] hair behind her ear. Ben’s expression was pensive for a moment or so as he tried to think of anything he’d like to have as a background on the phone. “I dunno, just find something badass—none o’ that girly shit.” She shook her head before thinking herself, trying to figure out something she could use. “I’m gonna go take a leak.” He spoke up, pushing his frame up and off of the bed before grumbling about something and making his way over to the bathroom door. Once he’d closed it, she thought for another second before smiling to herself. Lifting the phone up at a decent angle, she quickly opened the camera app and primped herself slightly—snapping a couple of pictures of herself right after. Flicking through the few she found the one she liked the most and made it his Lock Screen wallpaper. Thumbs darted across the screen and within another two minutes or so, spent entirely on Google, she’d found a nice photo of Ben’s shield. It worked well for a Home Screen.

It wasn’t long after that [Y/N] heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, seconds passing before the door was pulled open and Ben re-entered the bedroom. Lifting her gaze up to meet him, his green eyes held something she couldn’t quite pinpoint. She gently laid his phone onto the mattress and kept her attention on him while he sat back down onto the bed. “Are we doing more of this shit? ‘Cause I think my fuckin’ brain might implode.” His voice was deep, housing a distinct rasp to it. [Y/N] couldn’t help but to chuckle at the old man antics he was displaying before answering the question. “No, I think we’ll save some lessons for another day. After all, there’s much more than just the phone you’re gonna need to learn.” After she’d spoken, he groaned for what felt like the millionth time. “It’s amazing how you bounce between acting like a senior citizen and acting like a teenage boy.” Her voice held a humorous tone as she again chuckled, it was Ben’s turn to now offer her a pointed glare but there was definitely a layer of amusement behind it. Just as he was about to offer up a retort, the bedroom door was pushed open and Butcher popped his head in. “Oi [Y/N], need ya’ to come help Frenchie with a little project.” His accent was thick and his eyes held a wild expression that was pretty standard for the man. [Y/N] sighed and slowly pushed herself up from the mattress, but turned towards Ben with a gentle smile. “If you have any questions just.. come find me.” He nodded, because his brain wasn’t sure how to react to the little smile on her lips. Sure there was a lot of unholy and downright vulgar thoughts swimming around in his noggin about her, there had been since he laid eyes on her—however there was something more that lingered and that was causing a short circuit in his mind. She turned back to the Brit and groaned. “This better not be anything messy because the last time-“ she was cut off by Butcher’s laugh. “It ain’t, I swear.” [Y/N] rolled her eyes as the two left the room, closing the door behind them. After a couple of minutes Ben remembered [Y/N] lecturing him about locking the goddamned phone, but she had left it unlocked. Pushing the button he heard the clicking noise, but tapped onto the screen to make sure he hadn’t accidentally turned it off somehow—and that’s when he saw it. There underneath the time and the other bullshit, was a picture of her and her smiling face. Since he was by himself, he didn’t have his guard up and his lips curled upward into a smile. “Pretty lil’ lady.” He spoke out loud, his heart feeling something he’d not felt in quite some time.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Hi guys! I am soooooo sorry about how long this took. Between writer’s block and my fear of it sucking, I was just struggling for a while. This is my first attempt at writing for Ben so if it’s bad, I’m sorry! He’s a more complex character to nail in writing and hopefully I’ll get better at it over time. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @stillhere197 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @aylacavebear @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @jc-winchester ✤ ٠ —– • ·

[nimadjart]

Happy halloweeen. :)

This is the commentary track(?) to my digitober. It's just rambling, so don't expect anything too interesting.

This first picture came out on a whim, I originally didn't intend to do anything for this october. I had just arrived home from helping my mom out with something, and was in a good mood. I think this picture, as sketchy as it looks, reflects that feeling. I'm content with it - and it's halloween themed! All the better.

For the second, I tried to follow the "official inktober" list (something I'd drop quickly in the following days). I'm disastrous at making backgrounds, so I gave it a shot for practice sake. I think it's not a bad result, it almost kinda tells something of a story.

"Boots", hah. It's not terrible, but it's also missing a lot of polish. I think the idea behind it works well for a cute/sexy picture of Angewomon. Maybe some day I'll revisit it? I should put more practice into drawing the human form in the meanwhile lol.

I really dislike the fourth one. I think Lianpunmon deserves better art, so I'll definitely do it again some day. My skills are so undeveloped, it's very obvious seeing this poor hatching.

Speaking of hatching, I bit more than I can chew with this one. The composition isn't interesting enough either, and just like with Lianpunmon there's no story here. At least Angewomon seemed to be interacting with the viewer lol.

The sixth is something I liked better. It's kinda shody, but there's something of an urban fantasy thing going on.

The Vamdemon one I can see the faults: I need better line control, the shapes aren't locked in as well as they should be. Yet, I'm partial to it…

Rapidmon deserves better lol. I still really dig the idea behind this drawing, I just wish I'd have given myself the patience and time needed to render a kickass explosion.

SkullGreymon, I have little to comment. It has zero story, but it's carried by the vibes. It's the first (and arguably last lmao) time I think I was cooking with the halftones.

The tenth is arguably the peak of the entire month. It has some story, a neat composition, and acceptable execution. Strangely enough it was one of the quickest to make: I had an idea, and it came out in a few minutes (compared to some other drawings where I was fighting for my life), and it ultimately was one of the most interacted with drawings in my entire blog. Funny how that goes.

I like a lot the Piemon one, as bland as it is. It's like a design piece, more than a drawing. It helps that the perspective deformation hides my poor linework haha.

I went too hard on the Mephismon X one, to the detriment of the piece. Instead of adding texture, it just looks dirty. Damn.

The thirteenth one was my poor attempt at making a background. Originally, Bakemon was gonna have this devious, whimsical look, but as I finished drawing the stairs I thought "I'd be kinda tired after climbing a few floors", so I changed Bakemon's expression to reflect that. Just a little trivia.

The Jesmon is what I'd argue was my peak. Shapes are locked (as best as my skill lets them), values worked well, it told a story. It's my favourite of the month.

Fiftenth was made, mostly, trying to catch some Adventure buff to the ammount of interactions I'd get. I mean, I had fun drawing the characters, but the reality is that I had petty reasons. I don't dislike it though.

I know exactly what I wanted to do with the sixteenth, and I didn't achieve it. Looking back, I think I should've done it in BW, rather than grayscale, to make it pop more. Fix the composition too. It's too plain. Shame, I really like Lilithmon X's design.

Seventeenth was also one where I just phoned it in. I think the values are all over the place; though I do like the harsh light. Impmon is a lot of fun to draw, all things considered.

Greymon was fun, lots of fun to draw. But this was another piece where I went too crazy trying to use halftones, I ended up making something that lacked impact or presence. I do like, in a self deprecating way, how the background seems okay until you look at it directly and see that it's kinda bad lol.

I made Nefertimon's torso too long! I only realized when I was doing the finishing touches lol. Yet I like the whole thing a lot, I think the texture and lightning kinda sells it as a photo (the white border was an attempt at selling that further). Saw someone refer to it as "the last thing I see before I die", and that comment might stay with me forever lol.

The twentieth is another I had a clear picture in my head as to what I was actually hoping to make, but failed to. Instead of landing some sort of finish, it's on a weird gray (lol) area. Making clouds is hard y'all.

Twenty one is one where I managed to stick the landing to what I had in mind. I think the composition needed a few more minutes of baking, but overall I'm content with the result. Death-X-DORUgoramon is a complex design, so any degree of succesful translation is a win in my book.

I think I needed to draw some more background Kuramon for the twenty second. Y'know, to really sell the swarm thing. It's kinda too clean.

Before twenty three, I had never given myself the time to draw a tree shilouette. It was fun to turn off my brainfor a bit and just draw line, after line, after line, after line. I did the tree first, and then I tried to figure out how to make Shurimon. Originally, I wanted him to be hunched over more dramatically, almost as if he was climbing down the tree, but I was incapable of drawing it in a satisfactory manner. So this is what I got.

Twenty four is so bad! I think Monitamon came out fine, but the background elements are so poorly done! I'm so embarrassed! lol

Kabuterimon was really fun, very dramatic looking. I think it has some serious readability issues with the hands, but I don't dislike the idea I had at all.

Hackmon's drawing was done almost like a sibling piece to the fourteenth, Jesmon's. Like, Huckmon is somehow watching his exhausted future, yet he stands stoic. On it's own, I think it's plain. Like, it has some charm, but it's lacking in impact compared to the fourteenth. But maybe that's for the best of the story?

The Wizarmon sticker came through me realizing I wasn't practicing my lineart! So I did a sticker instead. This was actually version two, but number one was so bad I had to redo it. Despite it being a humble sticker chibi, it's overall the day I spent the most time drawing.

Twenty eight came from me realizing I hadn't done any Alphamon! So I did what I thought would look badass. As much as I like Alphamon, though, his shapes are difficult for me to grasp so it came out shoddy and weak lol.

Twenty nine, Ragna Lordmon vs Ragnamon, was hurt by me recording it. While an exciting thing to do, I felt like I wasn't allowed to do anything but move forward quickly, or to change things (I'd have moved both Ragnamon and the main Ragna Lordmon body closer to the center) that would've made the composition flow better. It's not an abject failure, and the video is fun to watch, but still…

Dorumon is a simple piece that I was a bit surprised to make. My birthday is not information I tell people, but I was just compelled to share a bit of myself. I dunno, it feels weird. I'm weird. It came out cute at least.

And at the last! Noble Pumpmon again. I'd love to tell you that I applied everything I learned throughout the month and it's my best piece and stuff, but that isn't the reality. It's a better show for a similar amount of effort compared to the October 1st drawing, but it's not some crazy good display of betterment. A bit, yes, but less than I had hoped.

If you made it this far into this silly wall of text I wrote, I thank you. I thank everyone who interacted with my drawings, it pleases me a lot to see that someone gave it a like, or a share, or a comment. I learned about myself, and my limits, through this experience. It was tiring, but setting myself the goal of "make a drawing a day" was, paradoxically, liberating. Like, now I had a reason to draw! (despite me having some comission work to do lmfao). It was nice. This was one of the most entertaining octobers in recent years. Thanks again to everyone who participated in some fashion.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Touch-Starved (canon)

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otherwise known as; the part where The Puppetmaster finds out he has THE FEELINGS(™, patent pending) for the Combat Harlequin. lmfao

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"Almost..." His hand trembled at the last piece required. He carefully slotted the optics in place, and twisted the eye multiple times to stick it in place. Within moments, he steps back, and Bubble flared up alive again, checking out his new, updated vision. “Wow! I can see more colors now!” The Blimp spun in place.

“Those new eyes should allow you to broadcast anything you see to me, if I so wished.” He explains, pulling out a small, thin black screen from one of the the desk’s many compartment. He switches it on, and Bubble’s eyes suddenly have a tiny red dot blinking in the middle of it.

So far, so good. The device was working as intended and he could see the top of his dentures from Bubble’s perspective, making Caine grin proudly.

“You may proceed to do your chores once more, the upgrades are done.” He sends the blimp to his merry way, and Bubble only nods before turning away to make his way out of the office. He leans back with a content sigh and closed eyes, satisfied with the work done for the day.

At that very moment, Pomni also opens the door.

She looked… disheveled, to say the least.

“Oh hey Pomni!” The butler blimp greeted with his usual reply. The Harlequin only sent him a look of acknowledgement, knowing that it’s useless to try to spark up a conversation, as Bubble was already making his way out.

Caine blinked once, and then he blinked twice just to make sure he’s seeing things right.

Was she always this… dazzling? Literally? He could see sparkles forming everywhere.

She flipped her hair in a messy attempt to get rid of the strands currently stuck to the skin of her nape. Her trademark golden ponytail missing, most likely a B.O.S.S.’s doing. She made her way to Caine’s desk and he swears he could feel his heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. The Harlequin’s trademark squinted brows with half-lidded eyes meeting his own wide stare, a gaze that would typically make any person with a still-functioning sanity cower in fear.

She took a seat on his desk with her legs crossed and her back turned against him and leaning on her right arm, as she usually did.

“Here’s the die you asked for. Took me a bit, but still got the job done.” She checked her left arm for damages after she placed the multi-colored puppet heart in front of him, while she flashed her teeth with a victorious, smug smile. His words are caught in his throat and her entirety shines too brightly for him. He couldn’t understand it.

Why… did she seem like a flame, and he felt like an unsuspecting moth, drawn to her light?

He shook his head clear and forced his stare away from her direction, clearing his throat while clutching the die. “I-I see, thank you, Pomni. You-you’ve done… a… wonderful…” Her hand grasped his own and his heart leapt at his own throat. Her synthetic, calloused fingers felt so rough, yet so gentle against his own gloved ones that he considered taking them off.

“...j-job.” His breath hitched as he struggled to finish the end of his sentence, unable to tear his attention away from her eyes. He found himself gawking at her intense, golden eye matched with blue and red pinwheel ones.

“Aren't you forgetting something, Puppetmaster?” Her expression questioning, yet with a slight and subtle undertone of mischief glinted at her optics. 

He couldn’t speak. He struggled to form coherent words. It felt like he was being strangled by an unknown force clutching at his neck, yet there was clearly no malice behind it. 

“Wh… What am I forgetting…?” He asked in such a feeble tone that made her chuckle in such a low rumbling tone, snaring his full attention.

“Well, I think that I deserve a reward for my services. Don’t you think?” She stands up. Warm hands suddenly felt so cold and empty, and already he missed the warmth present just about a second ago. The Harlequin made her way towards him as he spun his chair to meet her halfway. Hand at her hips as she towered over his sitting form. He’s all of a sudden clutching at the armrest so intensely.

“Y-yes, of course! H-how could I forget!” He nervously chuckles, he would pull on his collar right about now. “What is it you wish to be rewarded with?”

He offers her his best smile, and she giggles as she shakes her head. Without any warning, she took a seat on his lap, and he went frozen. As if making one single move would shatter the very fabric of the universe. She leaned her head to his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt then her fingers trailed onto the underside of his chin to make him look at her. He shivered from the contact.

“You.”

He trembled as his face warmed up to uncontrollable degrees, and produced visible heat waves. Not even his self-installed coolants were helping him tone down the sudden rise in his body temperature in the slightest. He couldn’t control his shakes, making the Harlequin smirk, knowing that she had the Puppetmaster all wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t know what came over him, because now his own hands were making their way onto her thighs to pull her closer to him entirely, the other shakingly placing itself onto her shoulders and he could feel the way she sighs contentedly against his touch. He exhales a shaky breath himself, attempting to steel himself.

“M-my dear, a-are you positive that… that is what you’d like?”

It was better to be safe than sorry. She sits up straight, and for the first time, he regrets ever asking that question in the first place.

“Actually…” Her voice trails off playfully, while she stands up. “... Maybe I’d like something more.”

It only took her a finger underneath his chin to pull him as she leads him to a nearby wall. As if his own body had a mind of it’s own, he pins her in place with both arms adjacent to her head. His face leans in closer and closer to her with eyes closed, and she’s leaning up close to him, fully ready to accept his advances.

Pomni’s soft lips met his teeth, and Caine could smell the faint traces of grass and sweat rolling down from her synthetic skin, evident of her hardships from the recent battle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his loops around her waist to pull her closer, while the other cups at her face intensely. He savored her mouth as their breathing became heavy and fast-paced, only breaking apart for a mere second, gasping for air before delving back in to their desires.

Desire…

Quite the accurate depiction of how Caine truly felt for the Harlequin at this moment. He couldn’t quite decipher when this had started, though.

As if her intentions were to pry him away from his overbearing and unnecessary thoughts, Pomni pushed him away to pin him to the wall this time, continuing the liplock. He grunts from the impact, but gladly returns her enthusiasm with fervor as he loops his arm around her back, pulling her flush to him once more. Her hands made their way to the lower sides of his jaw to caress so gently, and he finds himself melting at every contact their touches made.

Without breaking the teeth-on-lip-lock, he steered their bodies onto the direction of his desk, leaving the Harlequin laying on it as he loomed over her, ravaging her mouth once more like the touch-starved man he was. He adjusted her thighs just enough to make room for him without making the position uncomfortable for the both of them, their heated make out session felt like it could go on forever as he gripped her waist tightly.

It felt like if he let her go, she would disappear all of a sudden. And he didn’t want that.

He made sure to not lean too much of his body weight onto her by propping himself up with his elbows, both hands find themselves cupping her face to keep her in place as her hands trailed all the way up from the lower arms to his shoulders to do the same to him. He broke the kiss to gasp for air, a string of saliva being the clear proof of their heated action, but quickly delved back into the riveting sensations of their activity. 

Her touch against him were like magic; every contact sent shivers and jolts down his spine as she switched from holding his shoulders to holding his chest just above where a collarbone would traditionally be, pushing him away to let herself up. For a nanosecond he thought that maybe he went a little too far with his advances, until she disproved his theory by shoving him to one of the nearby long couches, only a pillow to cushion and soften his landing onto the furniture.

Quickly making up for lost time and contact, she quickly crawls to straddle his waist, clutching the back of his head to make him look at her, and her only. His hand found itself gripping at the back of her waist tightly once more, the other clutching her own head just to make sure she’s still there with him. Both were panting heavily, the room temperature very much heated as a result of their affairs.

His eyes looked at her longingly as he breathed heavily. “Pomni… I… I don’t think I want this to end.”

She flashed him a consoling smile.

The alarm rings, deafening the surroundings as he jolts awake, falling from his chair comically with a loud, slightly high-pitched scream emitting from his throat. He groans from the headache he had received from the impact to the ground, clutching at the top sides of his jaw, as he leans his head onto the desk for support.

His false heart was beating faster than when one would run; His face was flushed and he frustratingly ignores the heat from the rest of his body with a grumble.

He shifts his eyes to look around. Nothing’s changed. Everything was the same since Bubble left to do his daily chores.

He shakes his head and slams his face down onto the elegant desk, groaning depressingly and half-sobbing.

What the fuck? Was… WAS IT ALL JUST A DAMN DREAM!?

Oh, he could scream and cry into a pillow right about now. But the panicked angry screaming of a certain someone being bothered by the recent addition; the Ragdoll Mannequin that was “Ragatha”, suddenly grabs his attention. Now, he’s looking outside into the manor grounds from his office’s windows with a tired and questioning gaze.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

“But Mistress! You still haven’t tried out my trademark cookie recipe!! It’s GUARANTEED to be your instant favorite!”

“STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DON’T CARE, GET THE FUCK AWAY-”

Caine sighed disappointingly to himself, dragging his hand across his eyes.

God fucking dammit. He actually feels something for her.

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I would say I'm sorry, but we all know I'm not. :)

[ohwaitimthewriter]

Touchy-feely human!reader headcanon/imagine

Pairings: implied!Caesar x reader & implied!Noa x reader

Warnings: the holy fluff, and well huh, I got a TINY BITTY carried away with Noa's.

Requested:

A/N: DON'T LOOK AT ME I'M DYING (from embarrassment)

Enjoy your reading 😁

Planet of the apes Masterlist.

Being physical to express your emotions may be second nature to you, but I think with Caesar it may have taken a while before you succumbed to the temptation.

I mean, he's quite impressive, let's face it, intimidating even! So being able to enter his personal space without shaking like a leaf or tripping over your own feet is complicated at first.

But Caesar is observant, so he'll spot this trait in you pretty quickly because you'll express it with other apes like Maurice when you gently put your hand on his shoulder to thank him for teaching you a few words in sign language, or with Rocket when you give him a light shoulder tap, laughing as Rocket tells you a funny story about his son and Blue Eyes, for example.

He'll spot the way you press your hand against the forearm of the apes you're saying hello to, or, when you're in a playful mood, the way you'll sprawl your full weight on Ash's or Blue Eyes' backs, arms dangling around their shoulders, as they sit chatting and you just want to tease and disturb them in whatever they were discussing.

And he's going to wonder. Why not him, you know? He'll even get a little jealous that you never dare to put your hands on him, because he's noticed it too, all those times when you have an impulse towards him but always end up retracting your hand halfway through, or whatever gesture you were intending to make.

And I even think that the first real contact will be initiated, or at least requested, by him!

I like to think of it like this:

It had been an exhausting day. You wondered why Ash and Blue Eyes had let you get involved in this crazy idea of teaching you to climb trees on your own.

Your body was aching all over. Your muscles were sore, and if your joints could talk, they'd translate the electric shocks that made every part of your body tense into salty insults.

You'd put your heart and soul into it, and you'd spared no effort, a little pride at having managed, after countless attempts, to climb halfway up a sequoia creeping into the center of your chest. Although, even stretching your muscles had become painful.

You sat cross-legged by the communal fire, forgetting to help yourself with a bowl of vegetables and fresh fruit for dinner, and let yourself be lulled to sleep by the flames, which reproduced an aerial dance, some stretching as far as they could towards the sky while others sprawled out and collapsed in on themselves.

Your lungs drew in a long sigh as your eyelids struggled not to close and let you drift off into the arms of Morpheus. The dance in which the flames twirled and waltzed didn't help you fight off sleep, and it wasn't until a bowl full of vegetables and fruit was placed at your feet that you came out of your somnolence, if only for a moment.

Caesar had just brought it to you and his green eyes caught yours. For a brief moment, they didn't seem to want to let go, as your irises were lost in the gentle waves of sleep that sought to draw you out to sea. A smile spread across your lips as you silently thanked him for his gift, and the effort caused you to close your eyes in another deep, peaceful sigh.

As you remained slumped, elbows resting on your knees to support your body on the verge of sinking into sleep, blindly grabbing a piece of fruit from the bowl to come and chew it languidly, you felt Caesar settle down beside you, his arm barely brushing yours, just enough to let you know he was there.

Caesar watched you slowly chew the apple you had grasped feebly. With your back bent, there was only your elbows on your knees to keep you from sprawling on the floor, and Caesar noticed the depth with which your chest rose and fell, leaving you in such a vulnerable state beside him. His presence didn't seem to upset your nervous system and, in fact, he could almost feel the soothing rush through your muscles as you struggled not to fall asleep.

And for once, Caesar wasn't thinking when he saw you rocking back and forth in the lullaby of sleep. An opportunity to show you that you could lean on him, and even to urge you to rely on him a little more, rather than those other apes to whom you dared to address a touch, a contact that supported your words or emotions. He wanted to show you that you could depend on him, and without a second thought, he leaned over, gently pressing his shoulder against yours to help you keep yourself upright and give you some stability so you could finish eating.

His fur came to tickle your skin along your arm and your body, numb with sleep, found itself irrevocably drawn to him, who transmitted his warmth to you in a shower of tingles where your bodies connected. And you couldn't do otherwise, so you closed the few centimetres that separated you from Caesar, slowly shuffling your way towards his warm form, and let part of your weight rest against his side. His warmth enveloped you like a feather blanket, and you were already ready to fall asleep against him if you didn't feel him moving his arm from time to time to eat, or his chest working to provide him with oxygen.

It was only when your head fell asleep against his shoulder that Caesar turned his eyes to you, his gaze softening only for you as he watched your sleeping form curled up beside him. A pleasant twist ran through his stomach and up into his chest, and if he didn't know better, he might have let it purr with delight because finally you were leaning on him.

In your drowsiness, and perhaps because your state no longer allowed you to keep your emotions in check, you draped your arm around his, your sleepy fingers sinking into his fur and unconsciously beginning to stroke his skin. And if you weren't sinking completely into the arms of Morpheus, you could have sworn you heard a soft moan as Caesar struggled not to show on his face the thousands of tingles that happily and tenderly enwrapped his heart.

And since that day, Caesar has had the honor of feeling your hands against his fur every time an emotion takes hold of you, and he never has to silently ask again, because that night you know he's given you permission to enter his personal space whenever you feel like it. A feeling of pride will make him even more impressive, appealing, when he realizes that you've stopped showing physical affection to the other apes, silently indicating to him that he's won the battle for your love because in reality, it's only him you want to lay your hands on or cuddle.

And he's very proud of it, almost bragging about it, not in words, no, but in the way he holds himself, his chest puffing out proudly when you're leaning on him to rest or when he's sitting down to discuss something somewhat important, you slip your arms around his neck and he can feel your chest pressing against his shoulder blades and your chin resting on the top of his head just because you want a hug and you've been waiting for him to finish talking for 3 hours but the conversation never seems to end.

His fur bristles where you're in contact with his body and he's not the least bit bothered by your weight on his back and just carries on his discussion with a pleasant little twist in the pit of his stomach, telling him that oh boy he should make you his mate right now, for all to see, while keeping his serious demeanor as he talks about solutions to the problems the colony is facing.

He may be trying hard to keep his face focused, but Maurice is no fool. He can see in Caesar's eyes that you're provoking a whirlwind of affectionate emotions in his friend's heart. A whirlwind you don't even seem to be aware of as you close your eyes, escaping a sigh of well-being as you rest even more against Caesar, knowing that no matter how much weight you put on him, he'll remain solidly upright, accepting with delight the sensation of your body pressed against his.

With Noa, I feel like it would be a lot easier and more natural. Like, we already see him being pretty physical with Soona and Anaya (thanks to the recently released deleted scene where we see even more of Noa having his hands hanging all over Soona and Anaya) in the movie. And so showing affection with physical contact with him would be a no-brainer.

And at first, these touches are perceived as simply friendly and almost normal. It's obvious to him that at some point, your hands are going to rest on him:

To thank him for helping you, and in these moments, you always slip your hand into his to give it a gentle squeeze, and every time he takes note of the delicacy of your skin against his, it fascinates him more and more until it becomes a slight obsession: he'll even go so far as to help you with random things you can do on your own, but no, he wants to feel your smooth, delicate skin against his, so he'll help you so you can thank him afterwards with your delicious touch.

To get his attention when he's working on something, and here he has the great satisfaction of feeling your fingers slip into the meanders of his fur at shoulder level, and if his fur bristles all along his spine in pleasant little tingles, he puts this reaction down to the fact that he wasn't expecting you to touch him. (Yeah, sure, it's only pure astonishment, NOA, as if he hadn't smelled you coming *winkwink*).

To say hello in the morning or good night in the evening, your hand fondly squeezes his bicep and, to Noa's delight (which he denies), sometimes you even wrap your arm around his arm in a small cuddle, leaning lightly against him, even if it's a very brief embrace, feeling the weight of your body resting against his creates a warm sensation that coils in the hollow of his chest and suddenly his lower lip drops loosely in a form of bliss, but of course this is completely NORMAL BETWEEN FRIENDS NOA YOU ARE IN MOST TOTAL DENIAL.

Hm. So, let's continue.

For Noa, it's natural and obvious that you're keen on the physical expression of your emotions. He even misses your touch if you don't see him during the day, or if you don't put your hands on him that very day.

No, where it gets interesting is when he realizes that he wants a little more from you than just friendship, and that making you his partner is seriously on his mind.

And oh boy, from this moment on, every physical contact you initiate will become an internal emotional turmoil for Noa beyond words.

And here's a little scene I'm imagining:

Noa wasn't quite sure how he'd ended up with your hands working along his fur near his shoulder. And he wasn't quite sure it mattered as he forced himself to keep his eyes focused on the ripples of the river at his feet.

He could hear you apologizing to him as your fingers carefully dug into his fur, removing the bits of mud that had embedded themselves there. The lapping of the water as you dipped your hands inside to clean them before returning to peck at his brown fur sounded like a melodious bird song in his ears. Occasionally, your fingertips would graze his skin underneath, producing a fine shower of tingling that would spread from the surface of his epidermis to the depths of his guts. And he had no choice but to take a deep breath through his nose, perhaps louder than he would have liked, to calm the sudden funny satisfying twist that came to tickle his stomach.

With the gentleness with which you worked, Noa's muscles tensed in eager anticipation of feeling your skin roam carelessly over his body, and each of your movements became a soft stroke that he silently craved for, as if it were his rightful due.

A damp piece of cloth slid down his shoulder and Noa was almost disappointed not to feel your delicate skin buried in his fur. Disappointed, but only for a short time, as once again your hands began to work, this time on the base of his neck.

You watched Noa tilt his head slightly forward, giving you greater access to the back of his neck, and you could have sworn you heard a rumbling vibrate in his chest as your fingers gently grasped the stained fur and pulled away the mud that had gathered there.

Noa closed his eyes to focus. These images of you draped around him as your hands would roam shamelessly around discovering his body and perhaps your lips would venture down his neck and he suddenly wondered what it would feel like, to feel your breath come crashing against his fur. And if the urge to sink his canines into your skin to claim you as his mate went round and round in his head, he wondered what it would feel like, to feel your smooth teeth, harmless as they were, come to grip the base of his neck. He was already anticipating the pinch he'd feel, not real pain, but the effort of proclaiming him as yours was already very alluring in his mind.

The pain that emerged along his jaw kept him grounded, and when your hand exerted a light pressure on his shoulder to draw his attention, he was desperately hoping that his thought-dilated pupils had retracted back to their usual aspect when he opened his eyes to look at you again.

Unlike your hands, your smile was like gravity, silently thanking you for being able to keep him grounded with a gesture as simple as stretching your lips on either side of your face in a benevolent manner.

"All done!"

The cheerfulness in your voice almost made him regret the end of the little grooming session he would have loved to lose himself in forever. And he swore that one day, when the time was right, he would return the favor with the firm intention of carrying on the session until you became fully his.

So I was saying… internal emotional turmoil.

[littlemissstel]

Hi! Your Shiu pieces are so lovely - he doesn’t get enough fluff or, ya know, stories in general.

May I please request a story of him attempting to quit smoking because the woman he is into doesn’t want to date a smoker?

Feel free to ignore this, if the idea is not interesting to you 🫶🏻

Lollipops and Smoke- Shiu Kong

Helloo!! Thank you for the kind words<3

IKRR the amount (well lack of) of Shiu media is actually outrageous, he's the reason i started this blog😭Hopefully this is on par with what you were thinking of Xx

Pre-relationship, swearing, uses of the names "bastard", "minx", "Doll", "Sweetheart", "Darling", no uses of (Y/n),mentions of drug use

It is past midnight now and you were in Shiu's car as he drove you home after a long day of dealing with clients. The two of you have engaged in what seems like a thousand different conversations on the way there, but he's not quite sure how you landed in this one...

"You're really not going to tell me?"

"I'm not sure what you mean Doll. There is nothing to tell."

"Shiu. Let's be honest for a second here. There's no way you've only done cigarettes throughout your life. With the things you've told me about your youth, you had to of been high at least once."

Shiu holds in a chuckle, shaking his head with a wide smile at your deadpan expression.

The truth is you were right. He was a seasoned connoisseur in the field of substances thanks to his party days and he does conveniently forget to tell you the part were he puffed, sniffed or drank in his stories of nostalgia. When he first started out in the job, he had to entertain clients by sharing a drink/drag or two, though that was never something he found enjoyable and has since promoted out of it.

It's not that Shiu was regretful about his past experiences, no, He just wasn't proud of them either. He had great times which made for great memories but he knows what kind of impression they can give off and for someone like you- for someone he is trying to impress- he believes some memories are better left unsaid.

"I'm really not as old as you think i am. This is my youth-"

"Yeah right-"

"Enough about me. You're real fuckin' nosey you know that? What drugs have you done, Sweetheart?" He sends you a playful glare through the mirror.

"Paracetamol and Ibuprofen."

This earns a deep laugh out of Shiu, something that has become more frequent during your time with him yet you still take the moment to properly intake the resonant sound.

"I did have a boyfriend who was into a few things though. It didn't last very long."

"Was he trouble?"

"No, he was sweet, but i just don't think i could be with someone who does anything, you know..."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nothing. No vapes or cigs. Nothing that lingers."

What you said lingered in Shiu's mind. Long, long after the fact. He was somewhat surprised, you never seemed to have a problem when he smoked around you - then again he tried to limit the amount of times that happened. Then again he might be wrong and you just don't like him back.

But he liked you.

He liked you enough to go against his better judgement of pursuing you- no matter how selfish it may have been, and so he liked you enough to finally start his mid-year resolution to put down the cigarettes. That night he laid covert in the darkness of his bedroom, scrolling through an endless amount of forums from ex-smokers and ordering an unjustifiable amount of lollipops, gum and nicotine patches.

Shiu had always been the number one user of the saying, "I can quit when i want" and part of that was true...he could quit when he wanted. It didn't mean he wanted to struggle when he did though. His job was stressful and the only method of relaxation he could find that fit into his busy schedule was smoking. Now he just had to experiment...

Throughout the next few weeks you noticed a few changes in Shiu.

First, he seemed irritable.

Not to you- to you he was just quieter than usual- but Toji had been the one informing you that Shiu had "A stick shoved up his ass for the entire week", though this was after discussing how they were going to split the shares of his commission which meant the statement was untrustworthy.

Secondly, he was less focused and increasingly restless, which drew the most concern from you because Shiu was always well managed. It was one of the first things you learnt about him and he hasn't faltered since so when he started to zone out and tap against the steering wheel to an inconsistent beat you only became more skeptical.

But your last and final straw...was his sweet tooth.

The ravenette was a chronic enjoyer of savoury foods. You had seen him nursing a lolli' in his mouth consistently for the past few days, sure. But when a multi-pack of 300 lollipops sat discarded in the backseat of his car you knew something was up.

"What is going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's going on with you?"

His brows furrowed as he spared you a quick glance.

"What do you mean, darling? I've been fine."

"You've been acting weird...First toji says you've been irritated all week but now you've got a sweet tooth and a thousand lollipops in your backseat. I know you don't have a kid Shiu. Unless you're about to tell me you're going to kidnap one."

"I am not going to kidnap anyone."

"Then are you okay?"

The car stops at the red light and Shiu sighs weakly, meeting your eyes with an unreadable expression.

"I've quit smoking. Trying to replace it with something better. I like lollipops."

Your mouth droops into an "o" expression. Well that makes sense, you hadn't thought about it but why would you? It seems a bit abrupt, no? Most people ease out of smoking and you haven't seen him hold a cigarette in...well...a long time.

"Why- i mean, no congratulations- but- how long has it been since you stopped?"

"Three weeks give or take"

"Oh..."

The car filled with a thick silence only disturbed with the low rumbles of the engine. You're not quite sure what to say. What is there to say? He sounds pretty decided and you fully support his decision but- oh...You can't help the feeling of guilt that washes over you.

"It isn't to do with what i said is it?..." Shiu's hand grips the wheel harder for a quarter of a second as he turns to you to speak- but you noticed, and you felt your stomach twist for the second time in a minute.

"Shiu- you know i didn't mean that about you, i really didn't mean to offend-"

"-You didn't offend me doll, now calm down before you work yourself up, hm?"He says, a smirk creeping up on his face and you take his advice, settling back down in your chair waiting expectantly.

"I've been meaning to quit for a while now`, just never had a good enough reason to do it. Now i know you prefer the company of non-smokers, i finally got the motivation to."

What does that mean?

"I didn't mind your company before you know."

"Oh trust me, i know." His smirk now fully progressed as his attention undividedly turned on you. The most focused he's been in weeks. His dark hazelnut eyes bore into yours leaving you feeling exposed- so exposed. You believed him. His confidence, true or not, left little room for doubt and now you wondered what else he knew.

Don't embarrass yourself.

You leaned in, trying to keep a hold of what little control you had as he matched your stance.

"You're back to being a smug bastard aren't you."

"Never stopped."

"Then why don't you enlighten me on what else you know?"

Shiu's breath hitched before letting out a short, incredulous laugh, leaning back in his chair with his head tossed back.

"Green light, minx." He says finally.

After all, Shiu Kong believes some things are better left unsaid.

banner by user030419 on pinterest

divider by @saradika-graphics

I am open to constructive criticism but be nice because I'm sensitive asf 💀 Thank you for sending this request in, i really enjoyed it

please feel free to leave any ideas/recommendations

[nekropsii]

Hello, pardon and I don’t want to be a bother but I would like to ask for your take on something. And if you’re not down to answer this question, that’s completely fine, you seem to make large opinion posts on a noteworthy basis so I understand if you don’t have the energy or motivation to give an opinion right now.

But I wanted to ask for your take on the ethics of enjoying Homestuck in the modern day. Many people such as myself and seemingly you as well enjoy Homestuck but are painfully aware of all the gross stuff in it. And as I see the comic pop up in more and more dni lists, with people claiming that enjoyers of Homestuck are supporting these things inherently, no matter the fact that most of us stand against Hussie and attempt to reclaim Homestuck as something to express joy and our identities in, it makes me wonder more and more the ethics of enjoying Homestuck. Since you seem to have thoughts on the matter, I was wondering if you’d like to share your take.

I once again want to stress though, absolutely no pressure to answer. I am not entitled to your time or hearing your opinion. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. I was just asking in case you wanted to speak about it.

Hi, Anon! This is a very interesting question, and you were right to assume I have thoughts on it. They might not be as long and complicated as some of my other essays, but they still exist, and I would quite like to share them. Thank you for the opportunity.

My opinion on The Ethics of Enjoying Homestuck is that I believe it's perfectly fine to do so. I also think it's perfectly fine to dislike, or hate, or not want to associate with it or any fans of it. This is a personal boundary set by and for the individual, and it's not my business to question, nor my place to cross it. However, I don't really agree with the way some people go about communicating or enforcing this boundary. I've seen some people put Homestuck and Harry Potter on the same level before. I've seen some say that enjoyment of either piece of fiction is, at least in part, comparable. I heavily disagree with this- and the fact that this is a point that comes up shows to me that there's quite a few people who don't actually fully understand why so many people are saying to stop supporting Harry Potter.

The conflation of the two things reads to me as if some believe that Harry Potter has been "cancelled for having a problematic creator"- and that's not wholly true. Yes, J.K. Rowling is, by definition, problematic, and she is the creator of the Harry Potter franchise, but people have drawn such a hard line against supporting the series not just because J.K. Rowling is Transphobic, but because she has honest to god legislative power. She is, as it stands, currently the backbone of the TERF movement, and is spending a lot of time and money to ensure that Transphobes dominate the government. Monetary support of Harry Potter pools into her funds, which adds to her ability to further Trans Genocide. Communal/Fandom support of Harry Potter increases her visibility as a public figure, which adds to her ability to further Trans Genocide. J.K. Rowling has made very clear statements saying that she takes any support of the Harry Potter franchise- any at all, including Queer/LGBT+ Friendly fan content- as support of her beliefs. Support of Harry Potter is a method of legitimizing and validating Transphobia, and is being used as a way to further Trans Genocide.

If J.K. Rowling was just an average Transphobe, the outcry would not be nearly as severe, and the line wouldn't be nearly as clear cut. It would just be disappointing, bring to mind the phrase "same shit as always", and many would make the personal choice to distance themselves from it. But that's not the reality we live in. We live in the reality where J.K. Rowling has sway on the government, and is getting real people hurt and killed.

Andrew Hussie, creator of Homestuck, however, is just some random asshole with no political power outside of his own vote. Yes, Homestuck is filled with plenty of unsavory elements- random out-of-place interjections of Hussie's own past bigotry included- but at the end of the day, Homestuck has no influence over government action. Hussie has no tangible political influence, and does not want to have tangible political influence. We don't even have evidence that Hussie still holds the same beliefs as he did during and prior to the creation of Homestuck. This is just some random indie comic, made by some random guy in 2009. J.K. Rowling is dangerously close to billionaire status, and using that power for evil.

It's fine to like something that's not very morally clean- or something made by a not very morally clean artist, during a not very morally clean point in time in a not very morally clean place in this world. It's okay. The fixation some have on this is OCD-inducing. The best that can be asked is that one recognizes the bigotry, and doesn't perpetuate them. That's all. You can read, watch, play, and enjoy just about anything, as long as you don't make the more unsavory elements out to be a good thing. Don't start acting like Racism is awesome, or Antisemitism is cool, or Transphobia is based, et cetera, and you'll be totally fine.

The ability to find value in something impure or unsavory is a valuable one. Some may not want to associate with that, or find the particular flaw in the work in question to be too uncomfortable to stomach, and that's fine, too. Not everyone can just sit through Era-Appropriate Casual Homophobia or Racism and come out feeling fine enough to keep going. I'd argue- hope, even- that most feel at least a bit bothered by such things. It's all about personal tolerance levels. No one's committing a moral crime by either enjoying it or not wanting to even look at it.

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids: Escapades

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: everyone’s favorite grid family takes on their biggest challenge yet … an escape room

Series Masterlist

“Alright, who thought it would be a good idea to lock a bunch of F1 drivers in a room and expect them to work together to get out?” Charles grumbles, eyeing the cryptic clues scattered around the dimly lit space.

George smirks, picking up a coded message. “Well you’ve had plenty of practice trying to decipher Ferrari’s strategy lately, so maybe you’ve got an advantage here?”

The room erupts in laughter as Charles feigns a wounded expression. “Low blow, George! Do I not suffer enough already?”

Lando, fidgeting with what looks like an ancient artifact, suddenly blurts out, “Do you think this is like a button or something?” Before anyone can respond, there’s an audible snap and the artifact falls apart in his hands.

“Seriously, Lando?” Max exclaims, shaking his head in amusement. “First my trophy, now this? Hands off everything, please!”

You chuckle, patting Lando’s back consolingly. “It’s alright. Maybe breaking things is part of the puzzle?”

Lance, busy trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, adds, “At this rate, we’re never getting out of here.”

Mick, focusing on a puzzle piece, comments, “We’ve only got an hour, guys. Let’s get serious.”

Sebastian begins delegating. “Alright, George and Max, you handle the codes. Mick, Charles, focus on the physical puzzles. Lance, Lando — just ... try not to break anything else.”

As the room buzzes with activity, you can’t help but think that this is one of the best ideas you’ve had in a while. It’s hilarious watching these fiercely competitive drivers work together in a situation that doesn’t involve cars and tracks.

After a series of (mostly) successful problem-solving attempts, a loud buzzer sounds, indicating you’re out of time. The doors swing open, revealing a grinning staff member.

“You were only one clue away!” she exclaims, clapping. “Not bad for a first attempt!”

Max looks around the room, a smirk forming. “Well, if Lando didn’t break that artifact, maybe we would’ve made it.”

Lando throws his hands up defensively. “Hey! I added character to the room.”

Everyone bursts into laughter, making their way out. Another day, another adventure — this one off the track.

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sebastian mutters, amusement evident in his eyes, as he steps into the living room. There are strings hanging from the ceiling, makeshift locks on the furniture, and “cryptic” clues pinned everywhere, like Look UNDER the couch, accompanied by a not-so-subtle arrow pointing downwards.

You, equally surprised and amused, chuckle. “What in the world happened here?”

Charles steps forward, barely containing his laughter. “Welcome to the Grand Prix Escape Room! Guaranteed to be at least 90% more escape-able than the one we failed at.”

George adds, pointing to a padlocked fridge, “I did the food clues. Trust me, they’re the most challenging.”

Max chimes in, “And Lando ... well, we didn’t let him touch anything breakable this time.”

Lando mock-pouts, “One little accident and suddenly I’m the family menace.”

Lance hands you a paper that reads The KEY to success is WHERE you eat BREAKFAST. He grins, “That’s my contribution. Top tier clue, right?”

Mick has a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “I suggest you look in very obvious places. We wouldn’t want this to be too hard.”

As you and Sebastian navigate through the hilariously straightforward challenges — like the “hidden” key taped directly next to the padlocked fridge or the note on the oven saying THIS IS NOT A CLUE, just wanted to remind you we have pie — it becomes clear that this isn’t about the challenge at all.

It’s about laughter, family, and the simple joy of being together.

After an entertaining fifteen minutes, which involves Sebastian dramatically pretending to struggle with a code that's simply “1234,” you successfully escape.

Mick raises a toast with room temperature champagne (they forgot to place it in the fridge before it was padlocked), “To the greatest escape artists in the world!”

You laugh, “And to the best, most creative grid kids in the universe!”

***

You wake up to the soft chimes of your alarm, stretching lazily before noticing an envelope on your bedside table. Scrawled on it in mismatched rainbow crayons is Mission: Breakfast Heist.

Opening the note, you read:

Dear Y/N and Seb,

Your breakfast has been stolen! To get it back, follow the clues and embark on a thrilling adventure. Also, no cheating by ordering takeout!

The Breakfast Bandits (aka your grid kids)

Amused, you head downstairs, following a trail of strategically placed toast crumbs. In the kitchen, you find another note taped to the coffee machine: To get your morning brew, tell us a joke that’s new!

Sebastian, rubbing sleep from his eyes, joins you and declares, “Why did the coffee file a police report? It got mugged!” Mick appears from behind you, making both of you jump, and hands you two cups of coffee before backing away silently.

Chuckling, you move on to find that on the fridge, instead of a padlock, there’s a touchpad with a question on its digital display: What’s hot yet cool at the same time?

You ponder it for a moment, thinking of all the possible answers. Sebastian, catching on to the playful challenge set by the grid kids, smirks and says, “It’s the Iceman, isn’t it?”

You both laugh, with you playfully nudging Sebastian, “I always knew you thought Kimi was hot.”

Entering K-I-M-I on the touchpad, the fridge beeps in agreement and swings open, revealing a lavish breakfast spread and a note that reads: Breakfast is served! We might have kept it under lock and key but only to make it special. Enjoy!

From the doorway, the “Breakfast Bandits” applaud, their faces beaming with mischief.

Lance grins, “Took you long enough! And Seb, never knew you had a thing for Kimi.”

Charles joins in the teasing, “Seems like there are still some secrets in the paddock!”

Sebastian playfully rolls his eyes, “At least my secret doesn’t involve singing into a hairbrush every night before bed.”

Charles blushes as the room bursts into laughter. “Who told you about that?” he exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Lando, who’s trying hard (and failing miserably) to stifle his giggles.

Lando attempts to defend himself through his laughter, “It wasn’t me! But if we’re confessing, who knew that Seb’s haircare routine involved more products than all of ours combined?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. “Gotta keep the locks looking good, don’t I?”

Max interjects, “Well, if we’re on the topic of secrets, who wants to bet on how many stuffed animals Lando has on his bed?”

Lando gasps dramatically, “Betrayed by my own brothers! Next time, I’m hiding them all in George’s room!”

[poetryandfluffycats]

can you please do mika x fem reader nsfw with him giving her lots of body praise bc shes insecure and calling her a good girl?

A/N: I finished this in like a day so very sorry if it seems rushed or half-assed, I just really liked my idea for it. enjoy!

Pairing: Mika Kagahira x fem!reader

Content: Lingerie is the best way to spice things up in the bedroom, at least that's what the lady behind the counter had said. Trying on lingerie with your boyfriend should be a fun experience, but your mind just can't comprehend that. Luckily, Mika is there to cheer you up, in his own special way.

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex(f receiving), public sex, lots of petnames(pretty girl, good girl, my girl), negative self talk, insecure reader

Words: 1.5k

NSFW oneshot under cut!

The dressing room was as stuffy as it always was, small and filled to the brim with posters and ads advertising the latest sales of the store you were in. Some tacky, cheap lingerie store Mika had dragged you into. The kind the sold the most outrageous designs made with the worst fabrics possible and then marketed to young woman as if it were some sort of high end luxury brand.

Colours of pink, purple, and green were scattered all over the floor, a sea of your failed attempts at finding a sexy outfit fit for you. A eye-shadow wearing teen behind the counter had told you that lingerie was the absolute best way to spice up your bedroom relations, but you figured out early into this fashion show that her words must have been a lie, because none of what you put on looked good at all!

"(name)? Why don't ya try on this one?" Mika's green head of hair poked through the thin curtain of the dressing room, in his hand a set of black, lace, crotchless panties and a matching bralette with tiny embroidered lace hearts over where the nipples would go. "I think ya'd look real pretty..."

You eyed him, then the clothes, then him again, before snatching the item out of his hands and hiding it behind your back, as if it were some forbidden object he wasn't allowed to look at. "I don't know, Mika... maybe we should just leave"

As if he were in compete desperation, Mikas bottom lip stuck out and he looked into your eyes with the biggest puppy dog expression he could muster. It was a look he used on you more than often, a look that always got him what he wanted.

"Please? I've been feelin' bad, since I don't buy ya nice things an' all. Let me do somethin' for ya just this once!"

With those eyes and that dopey grin, it was hard to say no to the man. How could you when he always looked so adorable? You didn't like to disappoint a face like that, and It wasn't like you were trying to! The main reason behind your heastaince towards the skimpy get-ups Mika has throwing at you was well, stupid in all reality, but you were worried he wouldn't like what he saw.

Yeah, stupid, but the whole time you stood in that tiny room surround by the tiniest pieces of clothing known to man, the only thoughts that managed into your mind were negative. Thoughts of how you looked silly, weird, thoughts of how it looked like you were wearing someone else's skin when the lingerie was on your body.

Sick, ugly feelings. Ones that made you feel like all the organs in your body were rearranging themselves.

"Do ya not like it?" You must have zoned out whilst changing, because Mika was now standing right beside you, eyebrows knitted in concentration-like he was trying to read your mind.

You gulped, eyes scanning over yourself in the dirty mirror. You didn't look bad, per say, but not practically good, ever. The lace of the panties sat comfortably around your waist, but the way the fabric hugged your curves in a way that nearly made them budge out didn't feel right to you. The embroidered hearts of the bralette were cute enough, and the way the bra itself pushed your breasts together was a nice touch, but again, something didn't feel right.

Didn't feel like you.

"Its not that, I mean, its nice, I'm just..." You trailed off, searching for the correct words to try get out what you were thinking without really explaining it in depth. Mika didn't need all your problems dumped onto him all at once, and there was nothing he could do about it even if you did. "I'm just not feeling it"

"Why not? Yer gorgeous! Most beautiful in the whole wide world!" His grin stayed, but there was a new look of confusion, and even a bit of sadness that filled his features. "Ya could be a model, I think. I'd watch any show ya were in, I'd be like, ya number one fan!"

"Don't say those sort of things" Hot red spread to your cheeks as you adverted your gaze to the ground. Compliments from Mika were a daily thing, that's just the way he was, but they still never failed to make you smile despite your personal internal struggles. "Not now, its embarrassing"

"But I'm right!"

The boy in front of you made a sound that could only be described as whimpering, pout on his lips widening to the point where you thought his cheeks might simply explode, before he lunged forward, arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you close into his chest. You stumbled a bit, almost falling out of his hold and flat onto your face, but managed to steady yourself by gripping onto his jacket.

"It's not fair" Mika whined into the crook of your neck, leaving feather-light kisses all down the bare skin. His words were muffled from his mouth being pressed so tightly against you, but you could just make out what he was saying. Just...

"Yer perfect, but ya don't know it" Another kiss, this one maybe with a bit more tongue and trailing further down your neck. "That's sad, but I don't like when yer sad. Can I help ya not be sad?"

Was this even the right place for such a question? Mika was a strange man-part of what attracted you to him in the first place was his eccentricities-but this? Was this normal in his eyes? You felt as if your legs might melt into a pool of jelly on the floor, the only thing keeping you upright being Mikas hands holding you in an embrace.

His hold was tight, but soft, his lips on your neck were light and loving, but also so rough and longing at the very same time. God, what were you to do with him?

"What are you trying to do?"

"Hm, dunno" Mika giggled, the precious sound bouncing off the walls. His hands holding you in place began to travel down your back, rubbing over every single bump and cervice of your spine as he slowly lowered to his knees. "I started thinkin' 'bout how I could help ya out, but uh, I got a wee bit excited, but that's okay. I know how to help ya now!"

"Mika, are you fucking serious-"

"Yup! Be a good little pretty girl for me, mkay?"

You barely had time to breathe before Mikas head dove in between your thighs, nose deep in the heat of the crotch less part of your underwear. He took a few deep breaths in, inhaling the scent of you like you were a fresh ocean breeze and he was a man who'd be stranded at sea without water for months. His tongue darted out to give a few tester kitten licks, before fully driving in and licking a full circle around your hole-which was dripping wet already.

"Imma make ya feel real nice, (name)" His voice was like a vibrator against your core, each word sending shivers of arousal up your spine and straight to your brain, clouding it with pleasure, making you forget all about those nasty thoughts of before. "Yer a good girl, so pretty, my pretty lady. Love yer taste so much~"

"Ah!~ M-Mika! We're in public!" You hissed, slapping a hand over your mouth as a moan threatened to slip from your throat. "We're gonna get caught!"

"Nah, don't care. Let em hear, then everyone'll know just how pretty ya are, yeah? And that ya got the best boyfriend to please ya"

A silent sob left your lips as the tip of Mikas tongue entered your hole, flicking up and down and teasing you just perfectly. He knew your body so well, knew where to press up on to make you squirm and whimper, where to suckle to make you scream, he knew it all. Like a mastermind of your body, one might say.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty" Mikas words were like a mantra as he worked. Each and every one of them had you spinning, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the knot in your belly grew hotter and hotter, getting ready to combust at any moment. "Gonna call ya pretty till the day I die, that okay? Yer the prettiest, and I'm the luckiest because you're the prettiest!"

"Christ! Mika! I'm-"

The knot finally snapped, a blinding white light filling your vision for a split second as heat flooded your body. Mika stayed in between your legs for a little while, lapping up all the juices that spilled out from inside you, drinking them like a fine wine. Once he was finished-and once your high was subsided, leaving you a panting mess in the dressing room-he licked one final long stripe up your pussy, wiping the area off with his jacket sleeve before pulling himself back up.

"So, we're buying this one, then?"

[screamingcrows]

Note: chants 'let me just, for once in my life, write a 50 word post'

diluc x reader, fluff, established courting

Once Diluc settles with you, he finds that a new passion - bordering on obsession - has taken root in place of his desire for justice.

He needs to express just how grateful he is to have you by his side. You'd seen the damage left by all the times 'home' had been torn apart and taken with it a piece of his being. But instead of turning away, there'd been nothing but warmth in your eyes as you wove what remained together with strings of your love.

Everyone around him had noticed the difference; 'You seem excited today, Master Diluc, something good happen?' 'Finally settling down huh? Who'd have thought you'd manage before me' 'It's good to see you smile again.'

But how can a mortal man hope to thank the sun for bringing dawn and dispersing the dark night?

His fingers hadn't touched the violin since well before he left Mondstadt, and despite several late night attempts, his fingers felt far too rough. The notes didn't sound right.

Flowers didn't feel like enough, and something about having to watch them wither didn't sit right.

Marjorie had suggested a piece of jewellery, but loathe as he was to admit it, the moment he laid eyes on but a fraction of the selection, his mind had locked up. What if you didn't like what he chose?

'Your mother didn't leave anything?' Marjorie had asked with nothing but good intentions, he knew, but Diluc was terrified that you'd turn tail and run at the weight of such a gift.

The picnic he'd invited you on had been perfect, a gentle weather, solitude (he'd made sure to give his workers a paid day off), he'd been cooking all morning. Just the memory of your blissful expression as you'd looked up at him, head on his chest, had heat rushing to his cheeks.

Still, by the time the sun was setting, even with circumstances as perfect as that, Diluc had found himself tongue tied. Words that had fought to be liberated from his heart for so long always vanished in your presence. Stunned into silence. Too busy revelling the sound of your breaths, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the weight of you against his body.

Could a man such as himself ever be worthy of it all?

When Adelinde had first suggested he write you a letter, pour his heart out and leave it upon your windowsill alongside a lamp grass, he'd nearly fallen to his knees, lamenting his own inability to consider something so simple yet effective.

It was a perfect idea.

It had been a perfect idea.

Surrounded by countless crumpled sheets of parchment, blots of ink staining both his fingers and the desk, words no longer a tangible concept in his mind, it seemed as impossible a task as the rest.

Letters danced before his vision, stringing together words that didn't hold half the meaning you did to him. It was downright humiliating to watch the growing pile of unsatisfactory drafts, to the point that meeting Adelinde and admitting defeat felt almost alluring.

But he persevered, knowing it'd be impossible to find rest before at least managing to finish one letter.

A brush of warmth along the shell of his ear had a shiver run through his body, too keenly aware that the world was sideways before his eyes. Sitting up, Diluc noted with dismay that light already streamed through the windows, the candles that had kept him company burned down long ago.

When had he fallen asleep, and more importantly-

"Adelinde told me you hadn't left your study all night," you sounded almost amused, a realisation that tempered his initial shock at your presence, hands frantically moving to sweep together the scattered papers.

"Ah- I had business to attend to," another warm breath ghosted along his ear, "plenty of planning to get settled before harvesting begins."

His eyes widened in nothing short of horror as he turned towards you, blood running colder than it had in Snezhnaya when his gaze fell on your lovely hands.

Before more than a startled noise could leave his lips, yours had parted in a mischievous grin, "And your business often involves 'hands so gentle I could never bear to recoil from their touch, even if they should wish to drive a knife through my heart', or is this a special case?"

A string of stuttered protests were all that left his lips in the wake of your question, seeing how the amusement slowly bled from your features only worsening his guilt. Not only were you subjected to reading that but here he was, unable to explain himself.

The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair and the press of fabric against his cheek calmed his frantic heart a bit, letting out a sigh in resignation as Diluc allowed himself to hide his face in your shirt.

"I didn't mean to pry, I was simply worried because you hadn't come outside to meet me like we'd agreed," your tone was soothing, but the realisation that he'd forgotten the plans you'd made stung, "Adelinde came out and explained what was going on. I think it's sweet, if a little silly, to be fretting like this, Diluc. You don't have to prove anything to me, if you'd like, I can make a little list of all the ways I know you love me?"

Though it was said with a little chuckle, Diluc knew you were being honest, allowing himself a calming breath before trailing his fingers along your waist. He truly didn't deserve you, unable to even say aloud how deep his affection and gratitude ran, but he would make sure to treasure you in any way he could for as long as you'd have him.

Perhaps a list wasn't the worst idea.

My argument for how Diluc courts you like a gentoo penguin

[drdemonprince]

I've experienced suicidal ideation since I was about 8 years old and got very close to attempting I think 3 times? I'm overall doing pretty well right now and it's been a few years since I seriously considered attempting, but I don't expect the thoughts to ever completely go away. I've got a lot of opinions as to what people can do to help, here are a few thoughts:

1. Just fucking *be there.* The biggest harm reduction tool I use is to just avoid being alone when I feel shit getting bad. Just offering to be around can go such a long way. If you're worried about a friend, ask to do homework together, start watching a show together, ask to come over after work and make dinner together. They may or may not be up to saying yes, but at least they know they have that option if they want it.

2. Relatedly, you can do small things to help them take care of themself. Showering and cleaning and eating vegetables all make me feel better but can also be incredibly daunting. Having a buddy helps. You can bring your friend some good leftovers (that they don't *have* to eat, maybe you just made too much), offer to help them fold laundry or pick up their room together while you chat, or call them before you plan to shower yourself to remind them to shower, too.

3. Send low-pressure reminders that you're thinking of them. Getting a "Hey, how are you doing?" text when I'm really in the thick of it? Awful. Way too much pressure to respond. Getting a "I made a new playlist if u wanna listen"? Huge! Just sending a meme or texting something about a show you both like is a great way to remind a friend you're thinking of them without making it all intense.

4. Don't make a big deal out of someone self harming, and never fucking shame them for it. When I self harm it's a way to divert my overwhelming negative feelings into something that isn't killing myself. It's a coping mechanism, and has genuinely saved my life. You will not get someone to stop self harming by expressing your worry or disapproval. If they want to talk about it, hear them out. Otherwise, it's not your fucking business.

Thank you Devon for opening up this discussion. I hope my experiences can be of some help, and I can't wait to read your piece on this.

This is amazing, thank you so much ♥️

[tinkerbelle05]

Hi i hope you’re doing okay! Could you write something about sanji teaching reader how to cook :)) he’d be so gentle and sweet and also a big flirt the rest is up to you <33

Teach Me To Cook, Please

Character: Sanji x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: (Requested) Thanks Pookie, and yes I’m doing great, thx! 🫶🏿

Warnings: character might slightly be ooc, if so I’m sorry! I’m new to this fandom 😅 & there might be typos and the such.

-

You were sitting on the barstool watching Sanji expertly cook dinner. You weren't entirely sure what he was making but you saw salmon so probably that.

Sanji was gifted at many things; flirting, dancing, fighting (though only with his legs because in his words, “Can’t damage my hands. I’m a chef first, pirate second”), looking absolutely stunning. And of course, cooking.

Sanji could make almost anything you asked of him. If you wanted seafood paella, you got it, looking at the lobsters at the market for a few seconds, it’s right there for you when you wake up the next morning. And if he didn’t know how to cook a food you requested, he learned the recipe within a day and cooked it to perfection.

He did everything with a level of care and precision. Every vegetable was cut tin even and identical slices, any meat was cooked beautifully. And he did that for you, every single night for dinner that was just you two. Even after working long hours in a busy kitchen all day for the crew.

He was amazing.

There were many times you wanted to cook something for him but well, your cooking skills were shit to put it kindly. The most you could do was boil water and even that was hit or miss.

But still, you wanted to do something for him for once. Surprise him with his favorite meal after a hard day at work or homemade soup for when got he a cold.

“What’s the problem, love? What’s with the frown on your pretty face?” Sanji asked, his eyes looking into yours but his hands never stopped moving.

You leaned your head into your palm, “Nothing’s the matter, Sanji.”

He decided not to dignify your weak excuse with an verbal response, he just looked at you longer with a blank expression.

You sighed again, “I wished I knew how to cook, that’s all.”

He chuckled lightly, “But I’m here pigeon, I can make anything you want. It’s a small price I pay to be in the presence of a beauty such as yourself.”

See? He said words that made you feel warm and light at the same time. Fuzzy feelings found their way into your heart and made you wanna smile until your cheeks hurt. You didn't know how he did it, where all of his charming compliments came from.

You smiled softly at him, “I know but I still wanna at least pay you back. Maybe you can teach me how to make what your making?”

He considered this for a moment and looked down at his ingredients before he nodded with a grin and beckoned you to come closer. You got up and rounded the corner.

“What d I do first?” You asked after washing your hands, equal parts nervous and excited.

“Cut the vegetables for me, love,” he replied and started to unpack the fish.

You nodded, took the knife and stared at the vegetables. It was a rather manageable request but now your second guessing yourself.

Is there a wrong way to cut vegetables?

What if they are too big?

Too small?

Or not even?

You had no clue. But you decided to start chopping anyway. You attempted to cut the vegetables into big pieces so if that’s wrong then you can cut them into smaller slices.

Yes, that made sense in your head.

After a while of chopping, you felt Sanji staring at you. Instantly doubt clouded your mind and halted your cutting to a stop.

Were you chopping too slow? Too fast?

Maybe the cuts should’ve been smaller?

Sanji stood behind you, he placed his hand on yours and guided your chopping. His cheek rested softly at your head, you could feel his body on yours.

“You do it like this, love,” he said. You watched as he cut the vegetables into thin, even slices with a quickness you didn’t think was entirely possible.

Sanji grip on your hand was strong and firm, he made sure and confident slices. After a while Sanji left you to cut up tbe vegetables on your own. Once you were done, you dumped the vegetables into a pan with oil in it per Sanji’s instructions.

“You know, you said you were a terrible cook but you seem like you know what your doing,” Sanji chuckled. He leaned closer to you, “You sure you didn’t say all of the stuff just to spend time with me?”

You playfully rolled your eyes at, “Oh please, get over yourself. It was just simple chopping. Nothing much.”

Sanji shook his head, “No, no chopping is quite hard, well if you want them to be even that is. But you are just so amazing that it comes that easy to you.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “If you keep inflating my ego, I’d become insufferable.” You stir the vegetables in the pan.

You heard Sanji laugh and felt his arms gently wrap themselves around your waist.

“As if you could ever be insufferable to me? Stop talking rubbish and stir the pot faster, your getting the vegetables all soggy.”

“Oh! Sorry,” you say quickly and stir faster.

-

Tags: @missroro, @alienstardust, @puff-hugs, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @purplepirateadventures, @skys-musical-echo @thatgothic-nerd, @0picels0, @charliepoopyfart, @cielitoot7, @tayharrper, @nikolaevna-art, @simpingmyassoff, @rotin0, @borkbarnes, @villainouspotential, @ramielll, @poketrainer2270, @fujinnn, @n1ght5h4d3-24, @olliewhinchester, @dimplewonie, @penny44224, @fuck-you-im-gae, @ghostysfanfics, @dearest-lady, @hopester08, @avatarkanemi, @fandomsunited, @707xn, @yoongi-holland, @don-tuna, @alienstardust, @darka-moon, @dazaisfavgf, @smolracoon25, @flowerlds-blog, @heydemonsitsyaboilucien, @synchronised-beat, @secretlittlestudyblog, @childofhecate108, @foxflamewarrior, @penny44224, @dragonqueenfk, @wlfrdlvr

Taglist & Reqs Info & Masterlist

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

(Genshin Impact/GFL/GG:ST) "Pocky Game with their S/O"

Genshin Impact: Navia, Lynette, Eula, Lisa Girls' Frontline: AN-94, AK-12, WA2000, SPAS-12, Helianthus Guilty Gear Strive: Elphelt Valentine

No one requested this, just ate some pocky and the idea came to mind.

(Navia) "Oh? Sounds fun, let's try it!"

Navia cheekily grabs the pocky and puts it in her mouth, extending the stick towards her S/O expectantly.

One of the rules of the game that intrigued her was that you weren't allowed to look away from your partner.

Something Navia has no problem with, as she stares into their eyes.

Her lips form into a smile with each nibble, before she ends up grabbing S/O's face and kissing them anyway once the stick becomes short enough.

(Navia) "Huh? We lost? Hm...Well, we can always just try again!~"

Lynette questions why this game exists.

Why was eating chocolate a game? Isn't it just better to eat the pocky directly?

Well, whatever. If S/O wanted to try it, she can at least give it a shot.

Lynette fidgets a little as they make direct eye contact with each other, slowly taking away a piece of the pocky with each bite.

Right before their lips make contact, she pulls away, a little proud at the short length of the cookie.

(Lynette) "Hm. We did a pretty good job, considering."

She gives a slight smirk to them before resuming her important task at hand: spacing out and mindlessly munching on some cookies the proper way.

Eula's eyes widen slightly before she makes a "hmph!"

(Eula) "As if a simple game like this would be enough to make me falter."

Spoilers: It was.

Eula's cheeks are a crimson hue the entire time, her eyes constantly looking everywhere except S/O.

And already failing the game.

(Eula) "Just, give me a moment to compose myself! The chocolate has a strange taste is all..."

Her heart is beating fast the entire time as their lips grow closer.

It doesn't matter if they were already a couple or if they already kissed, Eula would still be extremely flustered.

(Lisa) "Hm, I think I like the sound of this game."

Lisa has no trouble at all putting the chocolate end into her mouth, waiting for S/O.

Instead of taking nibbles, she takes a massive bite, already being a few inches from their lips.

Still keeping eye contact, she gives them a wink, making S/O falter before she simply bites down completely and breaks the pocky.

(Lisa) "Oh, looks like I lost. Here, grab another one, I want a rematch.~"

It's clear that she does so on purpose, just simply enjoying S/O's reactions. Part of her wants to kiss them directly, but where's the fun in that?

This game made things a lot more fun!

Plus, it was a pretty cute idea.

(AN-94) "There is a game with candy?...I will attempt it for you."

94 is confused, but goes along with S/O's request.

She puts the pocky into her mouth and doesn't even blink as she stares into S/O, calculating how many bites it would take to not make contact with their lips.

94 doesn't react until S/O kisses her, making her eyes widen in surprise.

Not that she hated the sweets or S/O kissing her, but she tilted her head in confusion at their reaction.

(AN-94) "May I ask what the purpose of this game is?...It is for lovers to bond?...Then, I request that we continue playing."

AK-12's eyes remain close, but her eyebrows perk up in curiousity.

(AK-12) "Sure, we can play. I'll take the chocolate end."

She waits until S/O grabs the other end with their lips.

Her eyes finally open as her pink glowing eyes stare directly into them, smile still present and making them pause.

Before she just grabs the pocky with her hand and just kisses S/O full on the lips.

(AK-12) "Mmm~, tastes sweet. Oh, right, I failed the game. Let's try it again."

She would "accidentally" fail a couple more times just to see what kind of reactions S/O made.

WA's normal frown completely vanishes the moment S/O brought up the pocky game to her.

Instead, replaced with a surprised and embarassed expression.

(WA2000) "Wha-Why do you not just eat the cookies normally, are you a child or something!?"

WA begrudgingly (not really) accepts S/O's proposal to play the game and is shutting her eyes, before hearing their laughter.

(WA2000) "I'm not supposed to close my eyes? What does it matter, we're still eating the damn thing!"

The entire time, WA2000 is trying her best to look angry and unaffected, but is failing miserably.

After a few kisses, WA just sighs when she sees S/O's happy expression.

(WA2000) "...Yeah, the pocky tasted fine, now wipe that stupid smirk off your face..."

(SPAS-12) "OH! I love pocky!"

SPAS happily starts munching on the cookies before S/O stops her and tells her about the game.

(SPAS-12) "You wanna use this for a game? Oooooh, okay! That explains why there's a lot of boxes!"

Truthfully, S/O bought multiple boxes because they knew SPAS would just start eating without listening first. They were more for emergencies.

Regardless, SPAS gets a little flustered as she stares directly at S/O, and takes massive bites because she gets distracted by the taste of the pocky.

(SPAS) "Mmmm, chocolatey!...Huh?! I lost?! T-Try me again, I won't lose!"

She loses every single time. Her love for food seals her fate every single time.

(Helianthus) "Pocky game? Do I really seem that young to you...?"

Before S/O could retract their pocky, Helian immediately starts backtracking.

(Helianthus) "H-HANG ON! I DIDN'T SAY I WOULDN'T PLAY!"

If anything, Helain is flattered that S/O wanted to play this game with her, despite her usual stoic demeanor.

Helian has a hard time keeping eye contact, but tries to tough it out.

She fails at not having their lips connect, but it's not a failure she exactly minds.

Helian gets carried away in the moment, forgetting the original purpose of the game and instead just focuses on kissing her S/O.

Before tasting the chocolate in their mouth and quickly leaning back.

(Helianthus) A-AHEM! "I...suppose we failed the challenge..."

Before S/O could even finish proposing the idea to Elphelt-

(Elphelt) "YES! Gimme that pocky!"

With zero hesitation she immediately puts the pocky in her lips, excitedly leaning into S/O with bright eyes.

She kicks the challenge up a notch, by having her hands latch onto S/O's, giggling all the while as she took each bite and savoring the bite and sight.

Elphelt fails the challenge in multiple ways, mostly just by how giddy she is during it.

Accidentally biting too hard, kissing S/O, letting go of the cookie, each result makes her pout and slightly blush.

(Elphelt) "Wha-OH COME ON! I didn't even bite that hard! Hand me another one!"

Elphelt loves playing this pocky game with S/O.

She always had these cookies around due to her love for sweets, but this was the first time they've been used for something this fun!

(Elphelt) "Another one!...We're out? Alright, fine! Lemme grab another box and we can try this again later, I will win!"

S/O at the end of each session has a lot of lipstick, chocolate, and cookie crumbs on their lips.