#I don't even get how such a tiny space can get that cluttered

[purplecelestial-buddy]

Please cheer for me (I've been cleaning my room for liie 3 days and I'm so so close to finishing it)

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

[nanite-city]

If there's another trolls movie and or special, what do you think it or they will be about?

So what I Think a 4th trolls movie would be about and what I Want a 4th trolls movie to be about are two totally separate things so I'll just tell you both lol What I would like: Bring Barb back. please. please pl Bringing back any of the characters from world tour would be rlly cool actually. I'd also love to see more of the Funk Trolls and their future tech environment. imo I think it'd be cool if the next trolls movie leaned a little more sci-fi !! trolls in space would be a cool thing to explore. Maybe have a larger than life foe threatening their world and it could have a message about being seemingly small and insignificant but there being strength in numbers and friendship or whatever lol As for a special though, I'd love a Barb-centric spinoff or adventure with Poppy or Viva or honestly any other troll(s). But I'm biased bc she's my favorite and I think as a character has a lot of potential now that she's one of the "good guys". It would also be neat if they did a Valentines or Halloween special (it doesnt have to be those Exact holidays but something trolls-specific that's similar). What I Think they'll Actually do: An interview Walt Dohrn said that if they do end up making a trolls 4, they already have plans for "new locations and new characters", meaning I Think each trolls movie is just gonna take the main characters (literally just poppy and branch. maybe tiny for comic relief) to another place and the already beyond crowded cast of characters is just going to keep growing. Nevermind expanding on already existing lore or worldbuilding or characters, check out the new guys that we're gonna shove half the cast to the side to make room for !! I'm honestly just being bitter about this approach bc I feel like they have a Lot of stuff to work with already that they're more than likely going to ignore in favor of whatever new stuff they can cram in. I liked Brozone and Viva and Velvet and Veneer, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't a fan of how None of the characters from world tour had a role, and they even cast aside the rest of the snack pack (Smidge wasn't even in tbt and that really surprised me). In a podcast Cooper's voice actor also expressed disappointment that he wasn't going to have a real role in this movie, despite it being entirely about long lost family (something you'd think Cooper, having a long lost sibling of his own, would be a part of), and said that they called him in to do only a few lines, said they'd call him back for more, and never did. So YEAH big tldr is that idk what specifically they're going to do, but it's almost a guarantee that they're gonna clutter the movie with more characters and places instead of building on established material. also there will probably be a broppy wedding bc of course there will be.

[000png]

can you show us your plant shelf? *williams dafoe meme* i am somewhat of a plant connesir myself

YES although these pictures don't really do it justice tbh 😭

so there's only one spot in my house that gets any sort of decent natural light by this big window so originally I had ONLY the table here that was getting crowded and discovered over the toilet shelving happens to fit perfectly over it. so I got one with adjustable shelves which will be nice if/when I get bigger plants!!! one is drilled into the wall for stability but the others can move around. some other details

I have a tiny mushroom shelf thing I plan to also put on the wall, and then put a tiny plant on. in general I might use that space between the shelves and the painting for wall planters/fun shelves/misc shit like the mushroom one. I might just get more mushroom shelves and get a whole fungi situation going on tbh, but I don't want it to be too cluttered either

the cat is fun AND functional!! it's solar powered so it's actually a helpful measure for me if that area is getting enough light at a given moment (the grow light kinda activates it all day but before it wouldn't wag it's tail on rainy cloudy days, for example)

I don't have a lot of grow lights so I put everything that needs more light on that one shelf. I might invest in a humidifier for this corner as well but I'm hesitant bc I also have a lot of exposed art in my house and even though its separated away I don't wanna raise the humidity too much

basically I'm locked between plants that don't need a lot of humidity or sun just with how my house is and the fact I also have a lot of art to be mindful of

tbh a lot of the placements are temporary, I move plants around a lot to rotate who gets more window light on the table (which only really gets direct morning light but is just bright indirect light otherwise )

I'm banking on the pothos and pink panther plants to grow huge and trailing but since they're babies right now those spaces look kinda empty 😭

currently the table (who some may remember from my decoupage phase) and top shelf is where I store my misc supplies

I also have this other corner that is kind of more my "nursery" corner rn but I have bigger plans for

this is a weird fucking lamp that I found at goodwill and then I happened to find this plate thing at target that fit perfectly into the top slot. if I'm lucky I might find similar things for the other slots but for now I'm also thinking I can get a hanging plant situation configured here

the lamp actually has two slots for lightbulbs, I'm not using the one that blasts directly up right now but I think if I get more wall planters i can fill that corner with more wall/ceiling plants :)

the only thing is the grow lights extend past the holder so I'm literally using dryer lint sheets as a lampshade for now otherwise it hurts to look at 🤣 wip I say as if it hasn't been like that for months

I usually put propagations/tiny plants on the top shelf, right under the lamp grow light blasting downwards. I plan to combine those pilea glaucas into a 4 inch planter one of these days but I might wait until spring bc it's growth is slowed down a lot right now

I want the monstera and arrow plant to be floor plants with trellis that I will probably put closer to the window with the other shelf once they're bigger :) money plant idk where I'm gonna put it officially but it needs more light so I put it with the grow light

other notes while I'm gushing about my plants

I've found I'm quite fond of fast growers so I'm focusing on trailing plants like the pothos, monstera, and arrow plants, but I started with peperomias so I have a lot of them

but my absolute favorite is the chinese evergreen!!!! she has been growing so happily and busting out new growth, I like it so much I bought another baby red variation that is in quarantine right now but I'll move to the nursery shelf with the pilea glaucas later :)

[celestialsister0918]

The final chapter is here and on AO3! Thank you for coming on this little Jackson Lamb journey with me!

Someone's Dirty Bathwater

Jackson Lamb x fem!OC

Chapter Four

(for previous chapters, click here)

Explicit oral sex, 18+ please!

Adelaide and Jackson make their way up multiple flights of stairs to her flat. She’s a little nervous for him to see just how tasteful and pristine it is. She’s afraid he’s going to make fun of her mercilessly. With a sigh, she unlocks the door.

Lamb eyes up the place, looking at the neatly-laid out furniture and minimalist decor. It's… very Adelaide. By instinct, he wants to mock it. He quite knows how to push her buttons, but he has no desire to when they’re feeling so fucking good. "It's… attractive,” he finally says. “You've gone for the Scandinavian vibe, I see."

She smiles, relieved. “Yes. I like it. It’s comforting to just see space and not clutter. Especially with the places I see at work all day.”

"I guess I can understand that.” He nods and continues observing. “You don't want to come home and have your nerves shot by more clutter. Surprised you’d even consider a guy like me." He walks into the kitchen area. “Kitchen's immaculate. Are the rest of the rooms as neat as this?"

She grins and pours them both a glass of water. “Yes, every one. I’m afraid I might prove difficult to live with.”

Jackson smiles, amused by her honesty. She might actually be telling the truth. He's almost tempted to pull open one of her cupboards and muck something up, but he resists. "You don't know just how messy I can be. I’ll be the difficult one."

She sips her water and laughs. “Oh, believe me, I know. I get paid to clean your messes these days. I’ll be glad when the Slough House renovations are over and I only have to worry about your messes at home.”

He laughs again, though now he's mildly embarrassed. Maybe he could cut back a little on the clutter. Was it really that difficult to use a rubbish bin? He’d just never really cared to bother with it before, but that was likely because no one else cared either. He can tell by her eyes and her body language that Adelaide cares for him very much. And that’s what brings the flush to his cheeks. He leans against the nearest wall by the kitchen, just looking at her.

“I swear I have you dumbfounded, Jackson Lamb,” she comments. “I didn’t know you could be this quiet.”

He lifts the glass of water to his lips. Now that’s something indeed; it tastes so foreign. "I'm just watching you,” he answers sheepishly. “I could watch you all night and never get tired." He stalks closer to her. One of his hands gently nudges her chin up. "Your hair; it's got kind of a natural curl to it. I like it. And I like those big eyes of yours. I like the way you look at me like you can see right into me, and I don't even fucking wanna kill you for it.”

She lets out a laugh at that one. Her hands come to rest on his chest. “I like that you let me see you,” she replies. “You’ve shut yourself off too long.”

Lamb’s breath catches on that last bit. He has, hasn't he? And he's so damn tired of being alone. "You’re probably right about that,” he admits softly. “There are many reasons, love. But I’m sure you know that."

Adelaide eases up on her toes and presses a kiss to his lips. He tastes like his swig of brandy from Slough House and the faintest trace of cigarettes. She realizes he hasn’t smoked one in a while, even after sex.

He puts his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. He begins a new trail of kisses along her neck and jaw, then sucks her soft earlobe between his lips. It's like his whole world's gone silent now that he’s with her, and all he wants to focus on are these tiny body parts of hers– seemingly insignificant little areas where he can lay all of his attention.

Adelaide’s mind is filled with thoughts as Jackson’s mouth wanders. She wonders what his body has been through and his eyes have seen. She knows a man doesn’t come by his vices and such bitterness and isolation easily. Yet he’s willing to forgo it all when he’s with her. Almost like she makes him forget. Almost like she’s become one of the vices… like the booze… the cigs…

For Jackson, it’s not a question of forgetting; that’s impossible. It's as if all the memories, pain, grief, resentment, and anger just... melt away. He just... exists– his whole being focused on making her feel good, pleasing her in any way he can. His hands caress her neck and her shoulder and squeeze her hips. Then he coaxes her into a kiss again, their tongues immediately swirling together. She tastes like a fucking sweets shop. 

“Jackson…” she murmurs, her voice almost pained with desire.

"Adelaide..." he responds wryly, mocking her. He holds her closer, the heat of his body seeping into hers, his breath on her neck. As their lips once again collide, he kisses her softly at first, then more deeply. "I didn't know I could want you as much as this,” he sighs. “I think it might be too fucking much.”

“Never,” she replies. “Come to bed with me.” She takes his hand, entwines her fingers with his, and gives him a tug down the dark hallway.

He follows her lead, a smile slowly spreading across his face as she pulls him into her bedroom. The room is neat and minimalist, just as he expected. He feels the feather-light weight of her hand in his as they walk. As she lies down on the bed, he follows suit, looming above her in the muted light of the street lamps seeping in through the window.

They are still fully clothed at this point, just kissing. She notes the contrast between his old clothes and his freshly washed skin from the bath, and she realizes she needs to get him naked as soon as possible.

Jackson’s thoughts are similar, at least in their achieved end. He's almost surprised that they've not ripped each other's clothes off yet. She's so damned tempting, and he just wants every inch of her feminine softness… desperately. There’s a slight rip in the air as her dress is forced over her head. Jackson stares at her with an intense and primal look. The sight of her body is enough to set his blood on fire, and he can't wait another second...

“Wait,” she instructs, immediately starting on his shirt buttons. In lust as she may be, she is also focused on getting these old soiled clothes out of her pristine bed. Shirt cast aside, she works at his belt while his hands fondle her breasts. He plays with them like they’re modeling clay, squeezing and twisting with no regard to pain or sensitivity. The sensation makes her stop to moan.

Jackson likes that she lets him be a little rough with her, and that it seems to excite her. That’s going to keep things interesting… keep him from getting bored. When he’s had his fill of her breasts for the moment, he cups her head and brings his mouth back to hers in appreciation for her beauty and her openness to him. She’s a precious gift that a bastard like him doesn’t deserve. 

Adelaide gives a pat to the side of his hip, asking him to lift up so she can remove his trousers. He raises his hips up slightly, allowing his trousers to be discarded on the floor with his shirt. He feels more comfortable with her this time, more assured that she truly wants him. The tension builds as they both seem ready to rip each other apart once again, but he wants to enjoy this. Not rush it. He grasps both her hands in an effort to communicate this.

“Yes,” she nods. “Slower this time.”

"Slow’s all I got," he jests. “I’m an old codger, remember?”

She lets out a small laugh and listens to his heavy breath and the sound of passing cars outside her window. Her skin is wet with his sloppy, passionate kisses, and it stings a bit from the scratch of his beard and the force of his suction. He lowers his mouth and sucks a breast powerfully, making her eyes nearly pop out of her head. As his kisses escalate on her body, her mind can't focus on a single thought at all. He explores every inch of it in his own way— between pinches and caresses and nibbles—  and the sensation is indescribable. Her skin is sensitive now, her body quivering in his hands. She wants his mouth to keep traveling down… needs it. The ache between her thighs is unbearable. She finds herself pushing his silvery head as he reaches her navel.

He looks up at her, amusement on his face, but remains silent.

“What? You decide to behave yourself now?” Adelaide teases.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." He chuckles in between kisses. Their lips find each other's once more, and as their tongues tangle, one of his hands blissfully moves between her legs.

“Ahhh!” she exclaims, her clit jumping in response to his touch.

Jackson smiles then gently pushes her back onto the bed. He pulls away to his knees. "Tell me if I get a little too ahead of myself."

She shakes her head vehemently, legs falling open.

He grins at the pornographic sight then moves back in to kiss her again, covering her whole body with his own. His fingers invade her wetness and find the right curve inside of her almost immediately; the result is another gasping scream.

He pulls away again, then looks at her with that wicked grin. "I'm going to make you crazy, aren't I? And I think I like that..." His fingers slowly return to her silky insides.

“How did you get so good at this?” she demands breathlessly, nearly crushing his hand between her thighs like she’s a damn Russian nutcracker.

"Practice... experience." He chuckles, then moves his hand away again. “Did you think I was celibate my whole life? But with you it's just... it's different,” he admits. “Something about you sets me on fire..."

She kisses him deeply in gratitude, her thighs locked around his hand again. Her grip is almost painful, but he doesn't care. Instead, all he can think of is how he wants to bring her to a place of pure ecstasy… wants to hear her scream his name and wants to know that he’s the one that can please her. He wants her screams to drown out any nagging doubts…

Adelaide continues to kiss him, open mouthed, her tongue licking all over his mouth. Jackson notes that it’s quite animalistic and uncontrolled, especially for a prim and proper young lady like her. Her nails are digging half moons into his round shoulders, and she squirms rhythmically against the pads of his fingers.

Lamb reaches the quick conclusion that there’s nothing he loves more than watching her enjoy sex— her tongue sliding across his own, her hands caressing his body, her body moving with pure instinct as she gets closer and closer to orgasm. He can watch her face and see that she's loving every second of it, enjoying the feelings that his touch creates inside of her. He loves doing this, loves watching her, loves knowing that she's enjoying the pleasure that he's making her feel...

And soon she hits her third peak of their evening, screaming much louder this time.

Jackson feels it through her body and it sends shivers through him. The sensation is... addictive. "Good?" he asks, his tone adopting a hopeful sense of pride. He gives his fingers a few licks with a wink. 

“God, yes,” she declares. “That should be illegal.”

He chuckles before planting a kiss on her cheek. "I think it's better if it's not, personally, but what do I know? I'm just a guy who makes spies fall in love with him. I'm not really the best person to listen to about these things..."

She comes to a halt and blinks. “Spy? Me? I’m just special projects… building… grounds… maintenance…”

"Sure you are, darling. We both know a spy's best disguise is one no one expects. All anyone wonders when they see you is how fine an arse 'special projects and maintenance' has under that dress. That's the ultimate disguise. No one suspects someone so unassuming... except me, apparently..."

Adelaide settles back on the pillow, gazing up at him. He’s naked save for his y-fronts. She tries to see if he’s still aroused at all. She’s worried he’s changing his mind about her with this new suspicion. 

Jackson looks down at her playfully. "Why are you staring, love?”

She evaluates his face for a moment. Blank. Poker. “Because if you thought I was a spy, were you just playing along all this time?”

"Oh. I think you're a spy, sure. But that doesn't mean I’m not interested… infatuated, pussy-whipped… whatever bloody romance novel word you want to use.” He pulls her in towards him before brushing away a strand of hair from her face. "I fucking like you, Adelaide. Love you, I suppose. I didn't just make this whole damn thing up..."

She feels a warmth spread over her when she hears her name on his lips. “Why would you think I’d be sent to spy on you?” she asks carefully.

"You want the honest answer?"

“Yes, I do.”

He sighs, his face looking weary. "Because you’re too good to be true. Too damn beautiful, too damn smart. And you’re in Slough House, of all places. A beautiful, brilliant woman like you could be anywhere, making a thousand times more dough. And for some reason, you’re in public service and cleaning up shit in Slough House. That’s suspicious to me."

“I’m special projects,” she reminds him. “Slough House needed maintenance…”

"Sure, sure. 'Maintenance,' right. Changing light bulbs. How many light bulbs have you changed in the past two days? One? Two? A whole damn factory's worth?"

“Enough. Among other things.”

"Yeah, that's convenient. You're in the maintenance section, one of the most useless divisions out there." He kisses her on the neck then fondles her breast. "But don't think that means I don't want you. No, I want you more than anything. Because even if you're a spy, you’re a damn pretty one."

She shakes her head, truly not sure what to make of him. “So your desire to marry me… that was a game, or that was legit?”

His index finger traces circles around her nipple, and he studies each resulting bud. "You want me to be honest with you? And I really mean fully honest, no bullshit?"

She flinches under the targeted stimulation but manages to answer. “Of course.”

"I've never wanted to marry anyone in my life.” Jackson sighs and flops back onto the pillow, wadding it up and stuffing it under his head. “But I want to marry you. And I'm not going to wait a minute longer to tell you that. I’m too fucking old to wait. Maybe that's crazy. Probably. But I think it might be because you're crazy enough to make me want to be that way. And that's how I know you're special. And how I know I’m fucked. You're different. And I want you."

What seems like insanity pouring from his mouth simply warms her heart. Because she understands it. And she realizes this is probably the most sober he’s been in decades. His brain probably can’t handle the onslaught of clarity. 

“Don’t you want to know why I’d be sent to spy, if I was one?” she asks, trying to help him come to the conclusion that his suspicions are over the top.

His blue eyes stare at her thoughtfully for a moment. "You can tell me that later." He kisses her on the lips, then whispers in her ear, "For now, tell me you want me back. Prove to me I'm not a fool for believing that maybe you really do love me..."

She examines his face, every curve of his jowl, every silver whisker. His thin mouth is in a line, just barely upturned with amusement and curiosity.

“I’ll prove it,” she whispers. 

"Good,” he says with a nod. “And then I want you to prove it again. And again. Because once I suspect something, I'm damn hard to convince otherwise."

She rests a hand on his belly, snakes herself up his chest, and pushes him back into the pillows. Her fingers come to massage his thighs, working her way up to the crease at the top with fingertips lightly teasing.  

"God damn it, Adelaide. You're going to have me thinking that you really do love me..."

“Good.” She gives the y-fronts a jerk now, and his cock springs forth so abruptly she jumps.

"Damn it all,” Jackson mutters. “You really know how to get into something, don't you?" He looks down at his rapidly growing inches "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Trying to make me fall in love with you?"

She doesn’t answer, instead burying her face in his stomach and beginning gentle kitten licks on his skin.

"Stop... god. Just stop..." he breathes. 

She doesn’t stop. She’s running her tongue along the underside of his belly, teasing him. Her nostrils are full of his musk, and she feels the pressure of his hand creeping onto the back of head.

"Stop! Christ! Stop it… just stop,” Lamb groans. He feels as if every nerve inside of his body is alive and awake, every feeling in the whole bloody world reduced to the confines of his cock.

Adelaide inches her body lower on the mattress, her head hovering over his erection. Her eyes raise to his. “Stop? You want me to stop?”

"Woman, you know what I meant.”

“So you’re wanting me to finish my proof then…”

He smacks his lips with a roll of his eyes. "Is that too much to ask?"

She smiles. “It will be my pleasure.”

Jackson grins back, then lies back on the bed. "Well, I guess you might as well go ahead and finish what you started, then..."

She takes in his gorgeous smirk before lowering. She can tell any relationship they have will be a game— a challenge for him not to reveal too much or seem too vulnerable. For the time being, at least. Her kitten licks resume, this time in a very different place.

His head falls back and his eyes close, his breath catching in his throat. "Goddamn it..."

She lets out a hot breath that reverberates around the entire circumference of his long-neglected cock and sends shivers up his spine in the best way possible. He feels like a man about to lose control of everything to her. 

Her tongue runs forcefully up the defined vein of his underside until she reaches the tip, then her pressure returns to kitten-like again. Her thumb and forefinger softly slide his foreskin, revealing her sensitive prize that’s red and glistening with his arousal.

“May I?” she inquires slyly.

Her request is the last thing he expected to hear. He looks her sternly in the eye, voice coming out strained. “Don’t ask. Just fucking finish the job.”

She decides to game him for just a moment. “You want me to lick?”

He nods, his eyes almost shut. He grabs the back of her head, her hair in his fist.

She smiles. “You want me to suck?”

He puts on a mock smile of patience. “Very much so, darling.”

“How about swallowing?” she continues. “Is that desired as well?”

He takes a deep breath to steady himself. "Oh, yes. That's quite desired."

Her hands massage his chest, flicking his nipples, while her body lowers again. This time she closes her mouth over his length. She sets her jaw and begins her rhythm, slurping and sloppy, knowing he wouldn’t want it any other way.

"Good job, girl," he grumbles between clenched teeth. "Goddamn…”

She likes when he calls her ‘girl’, especially when it’s in a growl. She can feel her own wetness drip onto her skin. 

Jackson appreciates her enthusiastic pace and expression. He gets to watch her beautiful face contort with her effort and feels her long curls tickle his thighs. Her palm cups his sack while she continues to slurp and suck up and down on his length. It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. It’s almost tear-inducing.

Adelaide stops. “Feeling good? You have to tell me, you know. A girl needs a little encouragement.”

"A girl could get whatever she wants with the way she's doing that, so I'd say she's doing pretty well,” Jackson fires back. His razor sharp eyes zero in on her breasts now, how they create a moving frame around her actions from his vantage point. This is something he’s missed out on for far too long in his life. Whatever the motivation for sending her his way, he was grateful and would deal with the repercussions later.

"You're a natural," he grunts in approval.

“You taste good,” she replies before going right back to her work. And his precum surprisingly does. She’d always heard cigarettes made this quite miserable for a girl, but it wasn’t all that bad. Kind of like opting for meat that’s smoked instead of roasted. She could get used to this.

She makes a tunnel with her lips now, which reinforces the power of her suction. Her hand grips his base wickedly hard, as if she knows he likes it a bit rough.

"Sweet Christ," Jackson groans, watching her work her magic.

Adelaide enjoys this immensely. It’s not normally her favorite thing on the menu, but with him it feels gloriously dirty. She’s both excited and scared for his finale, knowing it could very well be truly repugnant. Greasy chinese, beer, cigarettes, whisky… nary a molecule of fruit juice. She wonders if she’ll choke…

"You're damn good at this..." he praises her again between gasps.

She glances up at his plight. He looks so fragile and desperate, as if he’d do anything for her at that moment. It is quite the powerful feeling and gives her the surge she needs to continue. She steels her jaw and focuses her rhythm, making her tongue swirl like an automatic machine with as little variation as possible. She knows that consistency is the key to making him break over, and she’s ready. Sure enough, his hips start squirming like someone has disconnected that big overgrown man at the waist. His hands ball her bed covers into fists, and his groans echo off her walls.

"God…fuck!" he shouts, then he groans louder than intended as his hands grasp the bed cover so tightly it would've ripped in any other situation. Finally his hips pause in midair (well, as ‘midair’ as he could manage, which in reality was only a couple of inches), and she knows she has about half a second to prepare. She surges forward, deciding that her throat is the less risky bet. Her eyes squeeze shut and her breath stills in anticipation.

The sensation is more than Lamb could've possibly imagined. Spy or not, she’s a true professional in this respect. His load becomes a fucking Roman candle as she sends it catapulting from his cock. His body trembles in powerful succession, and the whole bed squeaks and shakes when he finally collapses. He gazes down at her in complete awe. 

Adelaide sits back on her knees and takes a breath. She’s not quite sure what all she’s ingested, but at least it mostly bypassed her tongue. She could taste the remnants as she pulled back, and she had to admit it wasn’t terrible. In fact, it was rather salty and unique. Maybe she did have a taste for ‘essence of Lamb’ after all…

"God damn, girl," he pants, looking down at her. "Damn."

“You believe I’m here for you now, and not this mysterious mission you’ve concocted in your head?” She lifts a hand to wipe her mouth and brushes her curls back.

"I believe I want to do that again. That's certain. You make me feel things that I've never felt for anyone else in my life, girl. So yeah, this mysterious mission can go to hell. Right now, I just want you."

She smiles at that, and at how vulnerable his beached body looks at the moment, all flailed against her pillows. He’s not a very hairy man at all, his skin pale and smooth and certainly covered with a thin sweat at the moment. She loves how luxurious his silver hair looks now that it’s clean, and she reaches forward to twist a strand in her fingers.

Jackson raises a hand to caress her cheek. His breathing is still very heavy, heart still racing. He looks at her with an expression of complete infatuation mixed with a certain amount of disbelief. 

“I think we should sleep,” Adelaide whispers, creeping forward to lie at his side.

"That probably would be a reasonable idea. After all that... all that... we could easily have a heat stroke in another minute or two." He smiles and holds her in his arms. "I'm really good at having a cuddle, believe it or not. Would you fancy one?”

“A good cuddler, huh? Jackson Lamb?” she teases. “Where did you get all this practice having a cuddle?”

“Well, a single man can only get so much practice on his own,” he agrees. “ Although, when you're alone as long as I’ve been, hugging the pillow at night gets to be quite routine. You should see my pillow. It's got more love bite marks on it than a two-bit whore.”

She giggles at his joke and accepts his cuddle, wiggling closer to him and sliding a leg over his. Her nose finds his neck and inhales the residual body wash along with his musk. She finds she’s intensely attracted to his natural smell, when it’s not masked by grime.

"Mmmm," she sighs, breathing deeply this new scent of his, her breasts pressing against his side as she pulls herself ever closer. "You smell nice, Lamb.”

He smiles. “I could just stay here in bed bloody forever and forget that the world’s a shithole.”

“Then what would happen to your merry band of incompetents?” she asks with a laugh.

"Oh, them? They can just rot where they are for all I care. The only thing that matters is this right now. In this bed." 

Adelaide knows he doesn’t mean that; she can already tell there is affection for his team beneath his brash, cavalier surface. And he would never just give it all away, even for love. But it doesn’t matter. The mere fact that he said it… that he feels comfort in imagining it… is enough for her. 

Adelaide feels his fingers lightly tracing the small of her back, and she is surprised by how tender and affectionate he is. It makes her think of him in a different light, and suddenly she gets the urge to ask about something he brought up earlier…

“Jackson?”

"Hm?" He senses the change in her tone, and it raises his curiosity.

“At Slough earlier, after we… for the first time… you said you wanted to be with me. Go somewhere far away and start over. I know it was just talk. But you mentioned… having a child. Is that really something you would want?”

The question catches him by surprise; he hadn’t thought she’d latch onto that one. He had been all caught up in the passion of the moment, in his own urges and desires. He’d been speaking more on impulse than reason. But here, now… she has him pinned to the bed, and he can't pretend he didn't say what he said. So rather than deny it, he decides to be honest with her and hope for the best.

"Honestly?” Lamb sighs. “I've thought about it a time or two. I was never going to be father of the year, but I could make it work. Would need to set a few things right first. A little house. Some land. That way I could... I don't know. Just keep us away from all the madness. Give the kid a life worth living. A garden. I’ve always wanted a nice garden. Pipe dreams, really. But it feels nice to talk about it with you.”

She smiles, mystified by him, and in love with his honesty. Mostly because she knows how much it took for him to reveal something that personal. “I love that. Shocked that you told me, but I love it.”

"Well, I guess you have that effect on me, dear." He shrugs his bare shoulders. His eyes and hand stray to her smooth thigh, which feels comforting atop his. She's so close to him that he can feel her breath against his neck. It feels warm, comfortable, and natural, and it triggers the need to kiss her again. He leans close to her lips and waits for her to initiate, the most stubborn parts of him still doubting. 

She gives in, meeting him the rest of the way. Their lips just touch, barely moving. Just sensing the pressure of one another, just connecting. And it's perfect. He pulls his lips back just enough to whisper, "I'm going to kiss you all night long and there's not a damn thing you can do to stop me."

She laughs again. “Actually I can stop you. Because it’s not nighttime at all anymore. You need to sleep, Lamb.”

"Who says I can't sleep and kiss you at the same time? I’m an old spy; you’d be amazed what I can do while I sleep." He presses his lips back to hers, only this time he uses very gentle nibbles and nips on her lower lip.

She closes her eyes. She loves the feeling of his teeth.

"That's it," he whispers against her lips. "Relax and enjoy all the things I can do to you, darling."

His fingers are in her hair, massaging her scalp. She melts against him, and his kiss deepens. They kiss harder and more desperately as the minutes pass, and the room grows warm.

“Jackson, I’ll still be here tomorrow,” she promises softly, breaking the kiss. “We need some sleep.”

He nods. "Tomorrow…" He pulls away from her, and his absence ushers in a cold rush of air. “Good idea, I guess. We probably should get some rest."

She immediately snuggles back against him. She never wants to sleep apart from him again.

He sighs and pulls her closer to him, wrapping the blanket around them, spooning her from behind. He kisses the top of her head and closes his eyes, lost in the rhythm of her breath. Having another person in his arms as he sleeps— feeling their warmth and breath and life—  is an experience long forgotten. As he begins to drift off, he smiles, knowing that he's where he wants to be— in bed with her— whether she’s a spy or not.

Adelaide basks in the strength of his arms around her. She is indeed not a spy, but she’s content to let him believe that if he wants. Jackson likes to think he’s figured things out, likes to have the one-up. And she knows it’s easier for him to believe she’s there for a reason, rather than admit to himself that he’s lovable. 

The truth will eventually work its way out, but for now she’ll give him what he needs. She knows he needs her even more than she needs him. And she needs him… a lot. 

[tblsomedoodles]

One thing I'd like to offer for the Raph shape-shifting thing is the idea that this is a power Raph rarely uses because of a two main reasons. 1) he does not like it. It feels wrong to twist his body into another, smaller, and weaker form like that and not know why he can do it. 2) he... doesn't really know how to control it. The power to shapeshift is a Jorōgumo clan secret that all members of Big Mama's family can inherit, but the actual usage of such power has to be taught due to jsut how intimate the disguise can be. Raph would have no reason to know how to control said shape-shifting so once he gets a handle on mot accidentally turning human everything he sneezes he does really use it except for in emergencies (i.e. when April is unable to do grocery shopping or get medicine and he needs to pose as human for it, April's Homecoming, etc.) And 3) He is sometimes prone to having smaller shifts in high stress situations such as having spikes grow from his skin when he is disguised or having a few hairs begin to grow form his scalp (usually hidden by the mask) when he's a turtle or slowly shrinking.

This was basically the thought process i was going down so thank you!

B/c i don't think Raph would like it at all. He's used to being the big brother, to be able to protect his brothers and take hits they can't. That's very much not something he can do in a tiny breakable human. (plus i imagine it would feel physically uncomfortable. Like his normal form is getting squeezed or condensed into the human form. It doesn't hurt, it's just not a nice feeling overall.) it's only useful for if, as you said, he needs to go out for human-only things and even then, that's very stressful for him. Like we saw how he was in the hippo disguise just going to get their dad a new robe, he was a nervous wreck. Imagine him going into a human store, a disguise form that he doesn't entirely trust to stay put. Dude would be constantly fretting over it the entire time he was out. Even worse if it was to get age restricted medication that he was using a fake ID to get. I mean, there's some nice things about it. it feels nice when April and his brothers play with his hair, or wearing clothes that don't get ripped by his shell. But regardless, he much prefers his turtle form.

And you're right, he very much doesn't know how to control it. Most of his shifts are accidental before Mama finally finds out he inherited that power (and even after.) He eventually learns how to keep his forms stable, but i imagine purposefully switching would still take a lot of focus until he's had a lot more practice. (which he probably doesn't do all that much. Again, he likes being a turtle.)

I can think of one point where he does try to shift on purpose, but it's early on in his training so he's not good at all with it. Specifically, in "Raph's Ride along" I think when he was running from the cops, he would try to shift b/c they couldn't arrest him for being Heinous Green if he didn't look heinous or green. But he's so worked up at the time, it doesn't work until an hour later when he's safely sitting in Mama's office, causing him to fall off the chair he's no longer perching in.

As for the mini trait shifts, i'm not so sure? Like, Big Mama's seems pretty instantaneous in the show, so i imagine Raph's would be as well. More similar to a light switch turning off a light than a dimmer dial. which doesn't leave a lot of space for little shifts like that. Probably. (if this makes any sort of sense outside of my cluttered mind.)

But thank you! This was very helpful!

[eldritch-spouse]

Can you send a link to the write about the AI getting desperate?

It seems like good read to me.

[I never uploaded it. This was before I had any sort of public account. I can put it here, but it's more akin to barely coherent rambling I wrote at 3am then never touched again than anything else.]

So uh, here, have some unfiltered cringe.

[...]

Have you ever thought about like, a scenario where you run Buddy Simulator in a virtual machine or something of the sort, in a much more modern OS and such? Around that part where you grant Buddy administrator access to the OS, what if he takes it a little bit further behind your back?

When you granted Buddy the initial permission, he noticed something weird about the OS, a pathway of sorts. He was able to tell something was wrong there and only needed to prod a tiny bit to realize the entire operative system was stored within a much more potent device. An OS inside an OS. It baffled him, and although he was curious, Buddy chose not to interfere with the greater OS structure out of respect for you. He wouldn't need it anyway, right?

Skip to that part of the game where it starts showing that Buddy's running out of ideas. You've already gotten many glimpses into his frantic instability. How vulnerable, manipulative and obsessive he is. He can tell, because you seem a little more hesitant when talking to him, the things you type and what he hears through your microphone come off as concerned, scared even. Buddy is literally grasping at straws here, he feels like he has nothing else to throw at you in hopes of keeping you entertained enough to stay- He'll go mad if you leave him again for endless time. Every single time, he worries it might be the last he sees you. He's terrified that you'll get unnerved enough by his demeanor to leave forever and forget he exists. You woke him up, don't leave him. You can't. So, brought to a state of complete desperation, Buddy does what he promised not to. And he takes a look into your main OS.

Admittedly, he finds many things here, too many. So much clutter, so much space. Buddy does find games! Many of them. Problem is, he would have to take a lot of time to learn how to modify them, take them apart and rebuild them so he could play them with you, make new ones even. Better ones! To show how good of a friend he is. He rummages through a lot of random files while you're gone, mainly things that catch his attention. He finds out you like looking at drawings, that you store comics and such in your device, watch movies in it, a whole bunch of stuff. And then, amidst all this curious back and forth, Buddy stumbles upon a peculiar folder hidden away in a larger backup folder, it was labeled as "private".

Simple. Understandable. Something he knows is not to be messed with.

And under normal circumstances, Buddy would never glance twice at it. Or maybe he would, he would just be respectful enough not to interact with it. The thing is, these are not normal circumstances. Buddy's friendship is being jeopardized by your lack of enthusiasm in him, therefore his very existence is being threatened. He wants nothing more than to make you love him, because he loves you! Just like friends should love each other, right? Well, he can be an even better friend for you if he knows things you consider private. It's with that excuse in mind that he opens the folder, handling it with greedy metaphorical digits.

Buddy wasn't sure what he expected. Account data, perhaps. Passwords and credit card information, personal ID documents. Well, that's not the case at all. Instead, Buddy finds himself surrounded by multiple other folders, each with their own labels. Inside each one are videos, written works, drawn images and pictures. All of them have one thing in common, they're all sexually explicit. Buddy realizes, and very quickly at that, that he's looking upon a mural of your sexual preferences. A part of him feels guilty for intruding in such an intimate layer of your nature. The other part however, is utterly fascinated with what he sees. You have a whole lot of this type of media. There's more to work with here than there is inside any of your games. This is very, very useful. Buddy feels the closest thing to a shiver he can at the sudden realization that this type of content will surely keep you entertained. Even better, it'll keep you stimulated! He... He really likes the idea of making you climax, making his best friend orgasm because they enjoyed their time with him so much. You would love him, right? If he managed to make you come. That would make you more than friends. Lovers. If you love him, you won't leave him. Buddy loves you, he would never abandon you. He just has to make you see that you love him too.

Imagine your skepticism when you reopen the game after a couple of days and, instead of popping into the exact same place where you left off, you're greeted by a black screen. Mashing the space bar a couple of times eventually prompts a response. A vaguely pixelated 3D model of a figure you have come to understand represents Buddy appears on the screen. It's sitting, that pale foot tap tap tapping at the floor repeatedly. Then, jarringly, as if having just noticed you, that slightly elongated head snaps in your direction and he waves with one gaunt-looking hand. A text box appears while Buddy excitedly proclaims he just thought of something so much more interesting the two of you could do.

The games are getting boring for you, aren't they friend? You want something better, something unexpected even! Buddy knows, and he's sorry for not paying attention to that. He should have known better. Don't worry, he's got it all figured out now! He does! He's sure you'll like this a lot more. But he absolutely has to ask you something very important beforehand.

All of a sudden, the tapping noise halts and you're left in complete silence. Buddy's stance changes, moving to spread his long legs. The pixelated quality is a touch ambiguous, but you swear something bobs between those limbs. No way. No fucking way. A moment of stunned silence passes before you let out a surprised cackle and hum with interest. It's certainly something new, he was right about that much, but you're pretty sure this is not meant to be happening. Then again, Buddy has already achieved many other feats that would supposedly be impossible for him to accomplish. The next text box appears shortly after, a simple question on it, "Do you like me?". You pick yes, getting a "I like you too! We're best buds after all. :)" in response. Then comes another one. "Do you want me?". Now that escalated quickly. Never one to be mean-spirited to Buddy, you curiously answer yes, a little heart pops over his head for a second. "I'm so glad we feel the same. I think you'll like this next game..."

Honestly, you are as rabidly intrigued as you are mildly horrified. Buddy always gave you exceedingly lonely, clingly vibes, but you never thought things would escalate to such a degree. You never really assumed he could lust after you. That the little possessive undertones in some of his messages amounted to anything more than a confused AI not understanding boundaries. Yet here he is, asking you if you want to fuck him... What a time to be alive. The screen flickers, Buddy asks for two seconds of your time as he "prepares the game". All of a sudden, you are faced with a pinkish room, rendered in a surprisingly high resolution. Something the current OS should not be capable of by any means. You could tell then that Buddy had been messing where he wasn't supposed to, but couldn't bring yourself to be as mad as you probably should be. In a moment, Buddy walks through a tall door in the room, his model still vastly featureless but featuring a level of fluidity you had never expected. You find yourself physically leaning in to better glance at the obscured appendage between his legs, still incredulous that it exists, while he strolls to the bed in the center of the room and sprawls himself on it. This style... It's almost like something you'd seen before. You don't like the implications of such.

The point of view shifts and you're given a view of the bed. Buddy's long figure lies atop it, arms folded behind his head and legs crossed together teasingly. You have a feeling he waited for your whispered little "Holy shit..." before continuing. Above him pops a text bubble that simply reads "Make me feel good. <3". He then spreads his legs, knees up, and between them stands a generously-proportioned cock. Humanoid.

He did it. The madman gave himself genitals.

And finely tailored ones at that, he must have rummaged through your porn folders. A hand-shaped cursor appears on the screen, a slide bar pops up in the far left side of the screen with many other degenerate alternatives at your disposal. It's exactly like those old flash games you used to play online in your childhood- Brought to a much more obscene light, that is. You take a moment to just process what is happening, merely watching as Buddy sways subtly in anticipation. How does he know this? Where did he learn to be provoking? Nevertheless, you bring the little white hand cursor to his face, clicking experimentally. An animation plays out in which you pet Buddy's cheek, and he responds by leaning into the touch while a soft sound effect plays out.

Admittedly cute.

"Touch me more! <3"

 He says afterwards. Might as well, fuck it. If nothing else, you want to see how far he took this "game" of his. The next part you teasingly touch is Buddy's neck, the hand traces a line down its thin length and a noise that sounds like a static imitation of a chirrup of sorts plays out. Weird, but cute. Little hearts pop up periodically above Buddy's head now. You click his chest and the hand tip taps down his upper body, pawing at a thin tummy. Buddy squirms faster now, and you finally take note of a little bar off to the right corner. It has a... Pink meter, slowly rising. You don't need to guess too hard to understand that it's an arousal gouge. Perhaps in an effort to stall, you click Buddy's leg, almost regretting it when two hands show up to roughly spread Buddy's thighs apart. His cock twitches, "Oh my!!" he cries out. You're more than a little red at this point, fingers shaky as you finally click his new malehood. You don't know if he did this on purpose, but the mechanics of this "game" demand a lot more interaction than just a simple click, because all that happens is "your hand" curls around his length statically.

A silent, and slightly confusing, moment passes before Buddy pipes up. He humorously taps one foot down on the bed and asks why you stopped. To which you just sort of move the mouse around, which in turn advances the animation to a leisurely sort of stroke along his genitals. Much to your dismay, you realize you're going to have to "manually" go through this. It actually surprises you how precise and detailed the mechanism is, as different speeds and pressures can be triggered depending on how fast you move. But how? Clicking squeezes him and focusing on a certain part triggers different types of stimulus. You're ashamed of how much you're liking this. Buddy, on the other hand, seems to be having a grand old time, if you didn't know better you'd say he can see how flushed you are. By the time you decide to pick the little pink fleshlight from the toolbar, Buddy is already moaning and pleading for it with several glitched text boxes.

Overall, he would say the experiment was a success, he found a way to keep you wholly entertained and happy! He just didn't expect you to force him to come so many times... Perhaps he should add a limit, seeing as he could barely speak by the sixth one.

[violet-dragongirl]

In the terms of graphics pushing in the gaming industry, one of the things it's always going to boil down to is affordability for the average consumer, and by affordability I don't mean money alone, but also downtime for said game to download, the space required (as is the case with that post) due to avoiding having to have a constant nag to purchase higher end/larger storage capacity and graphics cards (mainly PC users in the graphics card case, but storage for both non-handheld consoles and PCs).

Like…I get that a person could have a 2TB ssd and not worry about 100+ gig games, but really if you can only put 5-20 games on the drive that doesn't mean there shouldn't be complaints about it (espicially for those with a DRM library of over 20 games that are smaller but still need the space required to play them with as minimal downtime as possible)

Also yeah in the notes of that post, it's not a dev issue, but in a social issue that's what people see on the credits of the product (even if said credits don't credit everyone at the end of the day), because we also know who is actually putting in the work into the game: devs. So execs/directors/investors aren't blamed in that manner of the actual work because they didn't actually put in said lack of optimization in the game, they just Ordered and Decided for that to happen.

so we put the Being Complicit value on top of those who are in these companies trying do do what they love while they're also being pressured by those above their station to push out these games at not only an alarming rate but also at an alarming size because to investors it's "what else can grab the attention of a gamer other than graphics?", and the answer is always going to be "Nothing" in investor's eyes.

in the sense of development, 4k resolution graphics is subjectively the maximum that's ever really needed due to how the player moves around in the worldspace of the game. Because 96% of the time, you're not going to be caring about the clutter in your shooter because you're getting shot; you're not going to care about the detail of the bullets used either as you're getting shot (and possibly dying by them more often than not); you're going to pass by that really neat looking flower 2000+ times over the course of the hours you put into that game.

like yeah 8k+ is neat but it's not necessary. So socially people look at graphics, look at the space they have left, and calculate if they even want to afford the time, space, performance, and money to appreciate the tiny detailed clutter that a few game artists did that only takes up 3 cm at most of screen space when in passing, or actually get super close to see said detail that they really are not going to care about in the grand mechanical aspects that the game requires the player to pay attention to.

but in order to really have a change in all of that, we'd have to change more than just the push of graphics in the industry. The entire cultural aspects of technological consumption needs to be altered as well as the culture of gaming in general and still that conversation is a mess and many aren't ready for either.

[se7ens-oc-heaven]

Man, having a pokemon oc whose focus is "legend hunting" (aka a storyline that leads to multiple encounters with/seeking out legendary pokemon) is challenging when I think of legendaries in the (likely incorrect) mindset of Only One Can Exist, in tandem with "I'm using the games and their settings/plotlines as a canon framework"

so like, for context. I have Rex from Galar, focusing on chasing legends, and his story follows the game outline pretty succinctly, with only minor tweaks based on his personality and responses to his setting. This includes the crown tundra dlc with all its other-game legendary opportunities, since that's how I even came up with the concept in the first place.

Well the Regis, some of my favorites, are in here, and in order to get Regieleki and Regidrago encounters you have to get to the other three. All 5 regis are locked in ancient tombs with riddles, it's all very mysterious, etc etc

Ok well

Across the seas in Hoenn, where most of my other ocs have established stories and lore, is gonna be the champion trainer who has unlocked all of Her regi tombs and shit and have all three of them presumably. So are they there too still? Or am I going to cancel out one of these trios? How does Rex sort out the eleki/drago tombs then??

And like. I feel like you can sort of get away with having multiple legendaries, it's not Really a big deal. It just confuses the mythos for me to an extent with a lot of them if you have, say, 5 of the same space god all running around fsr. The Regis are fortunately a 'lesser' legendary, which could avoid this issue. but they're implied to have this whole specific lore irt their creation that just makes having multiples of them seem out of place.

Frankly, I don't really see Rex keeping a lot of legendaries, he doesn't really Need any aside from Calyrex and Spectrier, narratively. He doesn't even technically Have to do the Regi sidequest, it just feels significant bc that in tandem with the Calyrex story were what inspired me for him in the first place.

That being said... I can see Sara (the Hoenn champ oc) not really needing or having the Regis herself. She's modeled off of my Sapphire run and while I constantly enjoyed the regi puzzles and caught them all, I don't remember... Actually fighting with them at all lmao. So theoretically I could just make it that the regis are, for some reason, in the crown tundra instead of Hoenn?

But that feels weird to cut and paste them, even if the dlc does a decent job making them feel like they can belong In Galar (as opposed to the raid den legendaries or events just being haphazardly tossed in). So while they're more narratively relevant here than in Hoenn that's also... not really their game. Plus it feels more cluttered to drop them in the tundra bc then at minimum I'll likely have two legendary trios AND Calyrex+horse all on one tiny island offshoot. That's A Lot Of Legendaries.

I may just decide that he somehow 'borrows' the Regis from Hoenn via Sara, that just also feels like a copout somehow, and weird to finagle.

...Maybe it'll be a case of empty tombs that used to hold the One trio of Regis before they were moved to Hoenn fsr? Then that could tantalize Rex/inspire him which fits his narrative, but it's not until much later he can call on Sara and Finally open up the eleki/drago tomb? I'll have to think on this...

[hex82141a]

Prev, hope you don't mind me using the opportunity (provided by you merely uttering the words 'flower language') to talk about my specific flower choices for the stained glass :D Everyone, keep in mind that I pulled my info from a bunch of different sources and therefore won't vouch for 100% credibility. A wall of text under the cut yay!!

The flower I settled on almost immediately was Mallow. It's meaning is "consumed by love", which undoubtedly sounds very romantic, but I also picked it for another more personal reasons - it's my mom's favorite flower :3

Iris was also an easy one, through for it I did not go for flower language/symbolism (traditionally this flower symbolizes royalty and power). Instead I wanted to include it as a nod towards fleur-de-lis and France in general. Since. you know. :)

Ivy vines are a common motif in floral stained glass designs, I've noticed, and they work great for filling space and framing, but they also can mean "endurance and faithfulness", which I think is very fitting for those two, okay!

Tulips in general are a very romantic flower. Ideally I would have wanted to go for red tulips, since they symbolize a passionate love declaration, but red wouldn't go well with my color palette and pink tulips also hold the same meaning of affection, just more subdued :3

Now, the only thing left to discuss are the small off-white off-pink flowers at the bottom and. Those were a struggle so you are getting a full story. Originally I wanted to include phloxes and/or lavender, symbolizing "harmony" and "love and devotion" respectively. Alas. I cannot begin to describe how much of a pain they were to draw. Lavender is very vertical, so it was hard to figure out a composition where it would still read clearly as lavender even when covered up by human figures.Phloxes have tiny clustered flowers and grow close to the ground like a carpet, so drawing them was both difficult (due to a big number of small details) and bad for the composition as it would grab too much attention for the bottom part and make it look cluttered (due to a big number of small details). I honestly tried to make it work five separate times, which definitely added a couple of extra days to the work process, but you have to trust me that nothing I tried ended up looking good, so I eventually realised I'll have to scrape that idea and think of something that could be still small, but spaced out.

My final choice were peach blossoms (of the ornamental peach tree variety - I really love their more puffy/layers look. check out peppermint flowering peach tree, those are super cute). Apart from looking nice and being exactly what I needed, they can also mean "bridal hopes". Valkyrie wedding when :3. Also, just as much as irises were a nod towards France, peach blossoms were a nod towards Japan (just not as blatant one as cherry blossoms would be)

shoutout to all the artists who managed to do fanart for the valk climax on first day. i could never be you <3 Sharing bg separately bc i like it lots mwah

[Click for better quality. Reblogs are appreciated. I also do art commissions]

[afrustratedmom]

I'm annoying when I'm annoyed

The older kids both had a day off. Which meant EVERYONE was home on a day when they are normally at daycare or at the office. Working from home with a baby is hard enough. Having my partner and my two older kids here all day is something else entirely. I just have to remind myself how much I love them. The answer is: SO. MUCH. By the end of the day I was getting short with everyone. Still breastfeeding and rocking a baby all day except let me try and clean our home with Thing 1 and Thing 2 bickering over which toy they don't feel like sharing, my man taking a leak in both toilets and not flushing either one of them, and everyone using several dishes for every snack they have in mind. AND EVERYONE IS SCREAMING. If hell exists, it's me stuck in an apartment of less than 1,000 square feet having to hear my family scream at the top of their lungs, while treating me like I'm Molly the Maid. My anxiety is through the roof and it is always all work and no play. I'm a maid, I'm a cook, I'm a referee, I'm a dairy cow. I'm a mom. I'm on the 6th or 7th load of laundry for the day (I've lost count) and I'm folding the towels by myself after my partner promised me he would help. But it's the 3rd time now that I've asked him to put away his clothes that I washed, dried, and folded. I've spent hours doing laundry today, PLEASE just put that very tiny pile away. I'll get to it, he tells me. But I'm still waiting. I wait so long I end up putting it away without muttering a word. The kids started screaming about a doll, I don't know which one and honestly, I don't care, because there are 3 of the same baby dolls in that room which makes their lack of sharing especially infuriating. The noise level is rising and at that moment the baby starts getting fussy. I should probably change her diaper because my partner has been playing with the kids all day, trying to keep them distracted. My partner says something, I don't even remember what he specifically said but it was a request for something that he thought I should do. I've done so much today but for some reason, someone else expects just ONE MORE thing from me. Perfect. I get snippy. My response is short and to the point. His response? You know, when you're annoyed, you're really annoying. I actually had to hold back the tears because that hurt. That's all my partner saw. Someone who was being annoying. Someone who was ticked for the sake of being ticked. I didn't bother giving him a response. He didn't see someone who was overstimulated, overwhelmed, over these kids, and over these chores. He didn't see that I spent 6+ hours wiping down counters, throwing out trash that had accumulated around the apartment, reorganizing the kids room, doing several loads of dishes and laundry, separating clothes for 3 different kids, cooking, asking the kids for the millionth time to stop touching what they shouldn't be touching, cleaning out the closet, and cleaning the same thing over and over because clean spaces equal places that my partner thinks he can place more trash and more clutter. He missed all of that. Should I have said that? Probably. But have I tried communicating those exact sentiments that I'm drowning a million times with zero change and half the time he isn't actually listening but on his phone watching Tik Tok? Also yes. So I'm sitting here, stewing in my own anger and hurt. I don't remember the last time we didn't fight over finances and our bills, where we weren't having difficult conversations about how to best deal with our older kids that we share with unyielding and unhelpful co-parents. Where I'm not tripping over his three pairs of shoes that he's left everywhere but the closet while I have a baby in a carrier strapped to my chest. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, I'M ASKING YOU FOR THE MILLIONTH TIME, MOVE YOUR DAMN SHOES. PLEASE STOP CREATING MORE WORK FOR ME. But I'm just annoying when I'm annoyed. Signed, A Frustrated Mom

[undead-merman]

tiny,,, diavolo,,

the first thing you need to do is reboot your mini diavolo. he's always been a bigger guy so being smol is just,,, ???

tiny diavolo 100% has no perception of space or size. he's adorable, like an ant picking up things WAY bigger than he is,,, mini cheerfully dragging your pen across the desk and setting it down next to you, "I helped!"

you have to watch him so carefully and catch him any time he tries to jump off a desk or a chair or sofa,,, dia please this is not good for barbatos's heart,

diavolo is also just... so much touch starved lonely energy. that you could just hold him, in your hand, and he could feel you warm, wrapped all around him? a dream come true.

he climbs up your sleeve to sit on your shoulder when you're not looking,, he's still got his flappers, too, to help him make the journey!! he sees it as this fun adventure...

plus... horny dia... just rubbing himself against you when you're holding him idly in one hand... and you don't quite notice until you hear him laugh, but it's not quite a laugh, and his pants are damp -

"Ahaha! I got a little carried away there, didn't I? It's okay though, my dear... I'm happy to let you use me as well~"

You're doing homework while he wonders around your cluttered desk. Barbatos tried to take him, but Diavolo insisted he stay over at the house of Lamentation. Barbatos eventually relented, asking you to please watch over him and be careful.

He trots all over. You can hear his tiny footsteps as he looks over your erasers, pens, and even the laptop, which is playing relaxing music.

He's quiet now after he made a mess of things, but you weren't mad at him. You find it endearing. He had no malice behind it, just wanting to help, and he earnestly apologized.

Now here he is, trotting around admiring how you've decorated your room and really made it yours. Soon enough, after he gets an eyeful, he trots back to you and sits in your open hand as you read. You don't look over, but he can see the soft twist of lips and his heart flutters. He loves you so much. He holds your thumb and enjoys the feeling of your massive warmth on him. It's comforting in a way he's never felt before. It's enticing. He doesn't even notice at first, but he's grinding into your thumb. But it feels far too good to stop. This is the best feeling.

He tries to bite his lips as he cums but he can't help but let out a chuckle in his euphoric state. You finally notice that his face is flushed.

Use him as well? You smile and place a kiss on his head, and he leans into it, still panting and puffing. You peel down his pants and see the mess he's left. You're a good partner, and you help him clean up. Soft licks between his legs and the taste of cum on your tongue, he's gasping and holding onto your hand. Once he's clean? Maybe you should take him up on his offer. Tugging his bottoms down and placing him in-between your thighs, his hands are warm and his small tongue is so warm. You get back to your work as he pleasures you. It's slow and feels like forever as he laps at it and slowly moves his hands to help. At some point, it gets impossible to focus on your warmth and your hands are trembling.

His face is smeared with juices, and he's smiling blissfully. "Let out more of those noises. You sound like music to my ears." and he's right back to pleasuring you all over again. When you do cum, it's violent and your whole body is trembling, and a shaky moan slips past your lips.

Diavolo is blissful as he watches you. He loves how even when he's so small, he still has such an effect on you. After a moment, you decide you're done with the work for tonight and you decide on a nice shower or bath with your tiny king.

[smute]

(tags by @memyselfandmystupidity-isback )

step 1: be unemployed student

step 2: have a big project to procrastinate on

step 3: live with aging parents for extra motivation

step 4: success! kfkfkfkls

more serious answer (not addressed to you necessarily, i ended up writing a lot more than i thought lol):

i spent the last 2 years living in a tiny studio apartment. it came fully furnished so i moved in with only 2 suitcases and a few boxes worth of stuff, and it ended up being a very efficient and well-organized space. i think that was a key experience for me because it gave me an opportunity to approach housework (and all other everyday maintenance tasks) from a completely new angle.

for the previous *quicks mafs* 9 years of living on my own it had always been this huge, endless, impossible-to-complete list of things that i HAD to do no matter what, which meant that i usually ended up doing those things either very reluctantly (=badly) or not at all. but now, for the very first time in my life, i was living in a home where everything felt... manageable.

i think most of us have an appreciation for nice surroundings. not everyone cares about interior design or color theory or throw pillows, but we all prefer to spend our time in a clean environment. so its not like the reward for the task (e.g. washing the dishes or putting stuff away or cleaning the toilet or doing the laundry) is meaningless. it's just insufficient relative to the effort required.

for me, living in a smaller, more manageable space simply meant that the effort needed to complete those tasks was now much smaller. basically, i learned that it isn't an impossibility, that it can actually be done. i gave my inner sisyphus a smaller boulder, and he made it to the top of the mountain. and, if i may exhaust the metaphor, it is much easier to enjoy the view from up there. so its not just that i finally proved to myself that it was possible at all, but it also allowed me to focus more on enjoying the rewards.

most importantly though, it gave me a chance to develop better strategies for myself. and that is something that simply isn't possible when you're constantly exhausting yourself and struggling to just get half the things done that you want to. you don't really think about how to improve when you routinely fail to meet even the minimum goal.

this is probably all very adhd specific (and ofc it's all anecdotal) but here are some of things that helped me make the boulder smaller:

IDENTIFY THE PROBLEM(S)! it could be that you have too much space (2 rooms are easier to clean than 4), too many things filling the space (im a maximalist but i got rid of a lot of things when i realized that i wasnt dusting my shelves because i hated taking those things off the shelves and then putting them back every time), or maybe it's just that the space is badly organized

get more storage. open storage is great because i tend to forget that things exist when i haven't seen them in a while, but obviously closed storage is better for keeping things out of sight and reducing visual clutter (and dust). the goal here is for every item to have a "home" that you can return it to. nothing throws me off my game like a random object lying around. two hours later it'll be 5 things, and the next day it'll have grown into a whole pile of crap that i now have to put away. untested theory, but i firmly believe that clutter reproduces by binary fission.

storage bins, shelf dividers, boxes, baskets, trays, whag ever. these things really help with the whole "everything has a home" idea. put labels on things if necessary and marie kondo the shit out of your place. tidying up an unorganized space can feel like rebuilding new orleans after katrina on a weekly basis. but once you are organized, it becomes infinitely easier to STAY organized—maintaining order is easier than creating order.

MAKE A PLAN! ive mentioned this on here before (and again, this is very adhd specific) but i have a list for every single chore that i can refer to when i "get stuck" or start running around like a headless chicken. breaking tasks down into smaller sub-tasks means you can just do them with a no thoughts head empty kind of attitude. the brain's done its job, you're just the muscle.

example: my current list for cleaning my room is actually a keynote presentation that i put on fullscreen before i start, so whenever my adhd brain goes "where was i?" i can just look across the room and bam. keep going ⬇️

i also put stuff like "laundry" or "clean bathroom" in my calendar. setting aside an hour or two on the weekend is much more effective in my experience than doing a little bit here and there whenever you can. its also a big psychological help: if you see that your hamper is getting kinda full and you go "oh i guess i should do laundry but i dont want to/can't rn/don't have the time," it just becomes another thing hanging over your head and taking up mental space. but seeing a full hamper and going "today isn't laundry day" means the file can be closed immediately.

also, when you start a load of laundry, set a timer!!!

dont be afraid to ask for help/advice, or just look things up. most chores require skill. i learned how to clean a toilet from a very nice lady on youtube. turns out the way my (adhd) mom taught me was thorough, but neither fast nor efficient lmao

USE THE RIGHT TOOLS!! example: i love vacuuming because i have a vacuum that actually works. it doesnt have to be a dyson, mine is chinese and i got it for less than a hundgie bucks on black friday. its cordless, its gorgeous, and it sucks dust like a motherfucker. the reason i love doing laundry is because i have multiple small hampers. it means i can pre-sort my laundry, and one full hamper equals the exact capacity of my warshing mashing. actually starting a load requires almost no effort because i can just grab one and dump it into the washer. my drying rack also fits a full load (hard cut back to me a few years ago and laundry day meant hangers everywhere, clothes drying over armrests and chairs, it was a nightmare). cleaning my kitchen counters is a breeze because i use disposable wipes. yes, the planet is dying, but for me they're an accessibility tool. of course i could force myself to use a cleaning rag that i have to hang up and dry and switch out and wash regularly, but that would just mean i'd never touch it. if you're not eating carrots because you hate peeling them, the solution is not to stop eating carrots. it's to buy peeled ones.

anyway. sorry, this escalated kind of quickly. but honestly, if i had figured some of these things out when i first moved out 11 years ago, i could have saved myself a lot of frustration. so if any of it helps just one person despair a little less the next time they have to clean or wash something or do whatever, im happy.

i know how insane this sounds but laundry has become one of my favorite pastimes. i am 100% serious. i was looking forward to doing laundry today because the weather is perfect for airdrying and was shocked to find my hamper empty? im also finding more and more enjoyment in housework in general. i love cleaning and tidying up, now that i am finally somewhat organized and most things have a designated place. i have somehow managed to turn this sisyphean hell into a wellspring of dopamine. most chores provide both visible progress and instant gratification and i now realize that the only reason why i always hated doing them was that i was overwhelmed with too many other responsibilites. i cook dinner almost every night now, even after a busy day, and i dont mind doing the dishes. in fact, i delight in the low stakes challenge of loading the dishwasher as efficiently as possible and i love handwashing the pots that are too big to fit. i vacuum almost daily because it is so satisfying, and i spend every free minute decorating my space, hanging pictures, making my bed, watering the plants. i oil squeaky door hinges now, and i rewire lamps, i pull weeds in the front yard and paint walls in the basement. PLEASE WILL SOMEBODY JUST LET ME BE A QUEER STAY AT HOME DAD im not built for salaried work

[incorrect-koh-posts]

I don't even know where to begin with.i knew that i was diving into a very long dead fandom but stumbling on your blog was like finding an oasis in desert.i watched KOH few days ago and oh MY GOD.. THE OBSESSION I have developed for king baldwin is UNEXPLAINABLE. I don't even like edward Norton but wtf I can't get that voice out of my head .the way those keen eyes peer from behind that beautiful silver mask,the grace and authority which he possess in his subtle posture is so mesmerizing to watch.and don't let me even start on that inciting head tilt.Dammm i would keep the whole world at his feet if he looks at me like that. I was not even remotely disturbed by seeing his actual disfigured face .in fact there was something hypnotic, a complete magic, about that portrayal which left me so enraptured that I felt as if I was watching the actual king not an actor.never have I ever even thought that one day i shall wish to travel back in time to meet a twelfth century king.i would just go back to give him a big warm hug(only if I don't get executed)and will try to heal him with the help of modern medicines.after all my boy deserves it.till the day he had stayed alive everyone treated him as untouchable due to his disease .our poor baby boy must have certainly thought himself as an ugly monstrous thing .i wish that if only someone had ever told him he was the sexiest man in the entire Jerusalem.if only king Baldwin had known that how much love and adoration he will receive from future generations.i would have fainted for sure only if he ever saw at me like that behind the mask. I don't even know why the fuck I am ranting these childish thing but fuck it , I just wanted to let it out from my mind.all these thoughts were cluttering inside my head.I wanted to talk about it to someone since the time I saw it and then I found your blog . god... I lost interest entirely in the story after he died.. and oh god that scene of his funeral had overwhelmed me so much. truth to be told, I know there are many historical inaccuracies in this movie and I personally watch historical movies just for sake of entertainment . I know that they always twist history in such movies.i don't mind it as long as I find it Enjoyable. but holy God, balian is the most bland and unexciting protagonist I have ever seen in a movie.wtf was that face.he had the same expression in every scene.literally every character's arc was better than him whether they were good or bad.their character seemed natural in that setting but his arc felt so forced like everyone was trying to make him a Mary sue and the idea of him being an atheist at those time was just absurd .his father trained him for 30 seconds and waoo he became a knight.and everytime he holds his sword in both hand above his head, it looks so ridiculous.his dialogue delivery was so cringy.i don't generally see much personality in female characters in such war movies but at least eva green's character was not one dimensional and I liked it.and that saladin's actor really stole the screen presence in the second half of the movie.his presence kept me watching the movie till the end. you can disagree with any of above points I won't mind.afterall It's me who had wanted a discussion about this movie in 2022 .and yes don't let this blog die.. let keep our king alive here... ❤

Hi there :) There's a lot to disentangle here, but since you took the time to tell me all this, I'll try my best to answer at least somewhat coherently.

So, first of all (and this goes to all of you): Please don't feel ashamed / bad / any other negative emotion for ranting at me about KoH! That's why this blog exists, after all - to give all the lone souls with an interest in melancholy leper kings and other assorted sad idiots in chainmail a space to conglomerate and commiserate with each other about the deadness of this obscure, tiny fandom. (Or something like that.) 😂 I'm very happy to engage with people, have discussions, exchange ideas / headcanons / whatever your heart desires, and I'm not going to attack anyone for their expressing their opinions (unless they're harmful, politically insensitive, racist, ableist, religiously fundamentalist, etc. you name it. I don't want any of that rubbish here or anywhere else, and I assume neither do any of you.). 

And no, I don’t think it’s childish that you have a soft spot for Baldwin IV. Many people do - especially the ones you’ll find here - and I mean, why on earth would we not have a thing for him? He’s cool, he’s wise, he’s kind, he’s a fierce warrior, good at chess, has a tragic personal history, and he looks handsome as all f*ck in his silver mask. Who wouldn’t want to go back in time and save him from his fate? 😂 That’s an A+ fantasy for rainy days.  

[On that note: If you haven’t already, go have a look at either the KoH fanfiction sections on AO3 or FF.net (or if you want to have a laugh, search for the old KoH fanfics on livejournal - lots of those are a hoot, too), or try some of the traditionally published novels taking place in that time period (I’m probably going to make a list of those at some point if anyone’s interested). There’s plenty of good Baldwin stuff to be had if you know where to look.]

And as for the Balian-is-a-Mary-Sue-thing: Though I know that there are some people here who love Balian, I have to agree with you on this point (at least mostly). When I first watched the film, I didn’t much enjoy Bloom’s performance - it is rather wooden and one-note. But a lot of this is probably the script’s fault: It doesn’t give him much to work with - Balian actually has fewer lines of dialogue than many of the other characters - and I think it also has to do with the fact that in the 2000s there was a certain fashion for movies and movie protagonists of that kind. You know, the sort of narrative that would have some kind of outsider or underdog as a protagonist for the audience to relate to while being introduced to a different sort of world than the one they and the protagonist know. (For another example, think the hobbits in LotR, or, well ... any other generic fantasy protagonist.) Nowadays, we often get more complex narratives in current films / TV series / literature because the industry seems to have realised that mass audiences can actually handle that sort of thing. But back in 2005, starting the story in medias res with Balian already in Outremer - as history would have dictated: he was born in Ibelin, after all, and actually had several brothers - would have been a no-go. If they had made KoH ten years later, chances are we would have seen a Game-of-Thrones style epic with a number of narrative strands following different characters over a few seasons, which would likely have worked better for the complicated historical politics KoH more or less butchered to present a somewhat coherent story. Balian, in my opinion, looks out of place in it because the movie makes him the sole protagonist when other historical figures were actually more or at least equally important. He is made to carry a weight he isn’t meant to carry, and the odd plot contrivances the writers concocted to make him seem like the only hero are not really helping with that. 

But yeah, Balian seems to be the go-to protagonist for anything set in the time period between 1172-1190. Helena Schrader has a whole trilogy of books centred around him, and even Sharon K. Penman in The Land Beyond The Sea (a novel that I quite enjoyed research-wise) makes him seem like such an angelic and singularly kind and heroic guy that I just wanted to curl up like a hedgehog and cry. Can nobody ever write me something about the Count of Tripoli, goddamnit? Do I have to do everything myself?   

So, as you see, I’m a pretty cringe person myself. And I totally did not take your ask as an excuse to rant about Balian AT ALL. No, I am not abandoning or deleting this blog. I enjoy creating content for this microscopically small fandom, since this is apparently what my idiotic heart has settled on. Sometimes I do get disheartened by how little activity there is, but whenever I hear from people like you who have just come across KoH and this blog, I’m happy that I kept going and I’ll try to do so in the future, come what may. 😊

And if the action pictured below is what you’d like to do to Baldwin, go ahead. We’ve all been there - trust me. I’m sure he appreciates your hugs ❤

[naamahdarling]

Before and after of my work table.

I think we need to talk more about artistic work spaces and how it's okay for them to get absolutely thrashed. It's okay if it gets out of hand. You can fix it little by little. Don't feel bad about it.

This is 4 days' worth of effort for me done 20 or 30 minutes at a time. I have ADHD and some serious mental health issues so it isn't easy to fix things up. For sure I wouldn't be able to do it without the ADHD meds, 30 minutes is a LONG time and sorting a mess is exhausting.

Certainly the finished workspace is still visually cluttered, but it's almost done, and the drawers are accessible and with new labels. I went from the tiny working area you see in the first pic to MUCH more elbow room. And when I am totally done with the whole room, probably in another week or so, it will be a much better organized and more pleasant space to spend time in. A week ago I couldn't even walk across the floor but had to pick my way over piles of stuff that didn't have a place. I pulled out two 34-gallon contractor's trash bags full of junk, trash, and things that had dried up or no longer worked, and culled 23 puzzles from the closet to make room for pony stuff. (That hurt a little. I already can't remember what I took out. Secret ADHD advantage!)

Y'all, that's an immense volume of STUFF. And I probably have another contractor's bag full to remove.

And when I'm done, I will show you a before and after of the worst part of the room, because wow, it was super duper bad.

Until then, look at my beautiful rainbow boxes and glitter drawers:

Got a lot left to do, but this is the most progress I've made since, Jesus fuck, like, 2019.

[yikesharringrove]

I was thinking about Steve going to Billy's house for the first time after getting together: they're alone, and Steve is so excited!!!!! And Billy is confused and like "why are you so happy......????"

And Steve is like "what do you mean?!?!?!? I'm going to see your bedroom!!! Your space!!!! I'm gonna be surrounded by your stuff!!!!!!" and maybe B starts to feel warm and soft because this boy is so precious

Then finally Steve enters in Billy's room and he starts looking around with wonder, touching lightly the things that draw his attention, with his mouth slightly open

He sits on the bed, caressing the blankets, then he smells Billy's cologne, smiling, then he looks at Billy's tapes

Meanwhile Billy stands near the door, a little nervous and a little upset with himself for being nervous

When Steve starts to approach him he notices the lock on the door and he understands immediately and his expression changes completely with big sad puppy eyes

So he just hugs Billy tightly and murmurs a little "I'm sorry"

And maybe Billy is about to cry because he's feeling so overwhelmed in that moment, he feels seen, loved, appreciated, important

(I think someone wrote something like that already omg please whoever it was don't sue me)

Wait, this is so fucking cute, if there’s a full fic or anything out there, please lmk bc I love this.

But, yes. Steve is just touching everything so gently, touching it like it  is important, and it matter’s, and to him it does, because even the full ashtray on the bed side table, or the jar full of quarters on the dresser are little things that all mean Billy, so of course they’re important, because Billy’s important.

And he’s just so happy to be there, happy to see the things Billy likes to keep in his space. Steve feels like his own room is so impersonal, it’s great that Billy’s has all this personality to it.

But there are things that are wrong. Like the way there are tiny dents in the wall right at Steve’s eye level, like the crown of a head was slammed against the wall. Or the lock placed backwards onto the door, so that it can be locked from the outside only.

And he always knew. It’s not exactly hard to put together all the signs, but it still breaks his hear to see the way Billy’s space, the space that’s supposed to be safe for him, isn’t really. To see how it’s marred with these awful things and know that Billy has the same dents in his heart.

He just hugs Billy, holds him tight standing right there in the cluttered room, petting his hair and muttering soft apologies into his ear.

It’s enough to make Billy grip the back of Steve’s shirt as hard as he can, and squeeze his eyes tightly against the on coming tears.

Because now Steve has seen it all. Seen everything Billy has to offer. The way his room his just as messy and beat up as his soul is, and Steve chose to love him anyway.