#I hope pudding features

[kitten4sannie]

dolce and gabbana

pairing: san x guest! reader (fem)

genre: pure smut with a tiddlywink of plot

summary: san can’t seem to get you off his mind after sitting next to you during the latest D&G showcase, so he has no choice but to get you on his dick instead.

w.c: 3.3k

warnings: some alcohol use, subby until he’s not! san, dommy mommy who folds instantly when san asserts himself! reader, both reader and san mutually go after one another despite knowing one of them is MARRIED (hoes will be hoes what can i say <3), reader’s husband is a dick ofc, misogyny (from said husband), cheating, seduction, exhibitionism, mommy/daddy kink….. (i’m weak okay,,), teasing, ITS BIG BTW AND CURVED……, only praise and pet names (omg who hacked k4s???), groping, fingering, kissing, dry humping on a couch in a very crowded room, one neck bite, san cums untouched, oral (receiving), squirting, one singular pussy slap, san puts reader into a mating press on her husband’s side of the bed just for funsies, manhandling, size kink, breeding kink, creampies (sannie cums a lotttt)

a/n: as a pudding since day 1 i am in absolute shambles thanks for asking <3 and YES im very aware i posted yesterday but the fic demons cannot be silenced!!! and just fyi i’m sure san was very grateful and absolutely brimming with excitement to be at the show!! the way i wrote him here does not reflect his actual feelings towards anything,, its just a silly fic and i wrote what i wanted lol. also i wish i could tell you how many times “dolce and gabbana that’s on my titties~” played in my head while i typed this out 😭😭 (also i did not proofread this whatsoever so forgive me if there are errors) but anyways, i hope you enjoy :33

song recs: la romana by bad bunny, rover by kai, planet goddamn by mac miller

San knew eyes would be on him. Why wouldn’t they be? He was dressed to the nines, his hair slicked back to showcase his alluring, feline-like eyes, his sharp, angular features that could give someone a fatal cut if they looked for too long, and most importantly, he was all decked out in a sleek black custom-made top that perfectly adorned his broad shoulders and chest, one that even cinched securely around his impossibly tiny waist. Of course it did. It had been custom fit and made just for his body. Even the tailor had jokingly mentioned that Michelangelo himself must’ve sculpted him to perfection in the heavens before San was born, but San wasn’t laughing. He perfected his body through his own sheer willpower and determination alone, to be the best that he could be for his own self — and if people just so happened to drool over the results of his hard work, then that was simply a perk.

Holding his hand up to shield his eyes from the many camera flashes, he continued to make his way down the walkway, offering many of the starstruck guests a courteous, though charming smile, wondering if their wandering gazes were due to his breathtaking ensemble or what was sitting just below it. The thought tickled him. It continued to amuse him throughout the afternoon, taking picture after picture with eager guests and wealthy tycoons alike, quite pleased with himself when neither man nor woman could seem to control themselves around him, their eyes always drifting downwards to look San up and down like he were next up in an auction, their mouths pressed to their champagne flutes in an effort to quell the thirst they felt, their free hands lingering just a little too long on the small of his back when they bid farewell to him.

San relished the fact that these poor starving individuals could never get a taste of him, no matter how incredibly rich or influential they were. None of them would get a bite of the forbidden fruit without permission from God.

It was then that the show started, various eye-catching models sashaying their way across the aisle to showcase the latest D&G collection, all displaying their own unique set of features and charm. All flawless and angelic in their own right, but they were almost predictable in that way — like mannequins made solely for the rich and beautiful to gawk at. San couldn’t help but look past them, only focusing on the expensive, tailor made clothes that were framing their perfect bodies. And after a while, he almost seemed to grow bored. Of what, exactly? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the sheer gaudiness of it all, the lack of self awareness for things that really mattered in the modern world, and the almost nauseating amount of self-sucking the rich individuals around him seemed to be fond of doing. San would’ve pondered it more when somebody near him gently patted his thigh, causing him to look down at the small manicured hand, the diamond ring around your finger glinting in the light like a warning sign.

“Are you bored like I am?” you whispered softly into his ear from beside him, giving him a quaint smile when he turned his head to face you.

San blushed, leaning slightly in your direction. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, don’t worry. None of these drones will be able to notice.” You motioned your head to the crowd around you, their phones in hand, all whispering to each other about how revolutionary the new collection was, despite it looking eerily similar to the fall one from the year before. “You could whip your cock out and no one would bat an eye.”

“Oh?” San studied your flirtatious smile, then looked down just to make sure his eyes hadn’t deceived him. Yep, the ring was still there — and it probably cost more than a starter house. Delighted by your forwardness, San took it upon himself to tease you, reaching down to slowly unbutton his slim-fitted pants. “Well, if that’s the case…”

Your cheeks turning bright red, you reached downwards to shield his crotch from view, looking up at him with wide eyes, your faces now impossibly close. “I-i was fucking with you! Don’t actually take out your dick…”

San’s sharpened eyes flitted from your gaze to your cherry red lips, letting go of his zipper to gently take your hand in his, pressing it firmly down onto his thigh. “Yet…?” he challenged huskily, wondering if you were like all the others and would yank your hand back, scoff in disgust, and pretend as if it had never happened. It was then that San felt you squeeze your warm hand into the meat of his thigh, your fingers just barely pressing into the inseam of his pants.

“You can be a good boy and wait till the after party, can’t you?” you asked in a lower, sultrier tone, pressing your lips to his cheek to leave your mark on him, your hand moving further up his thigh, only pulling away when you felt something hard press into your palm. Smiling sweetly, you leaned in again, this time allowing your lips to brush over his. “Good things come to those who wait.”

And just like that, you turned forward to focus on the models all gathering onto the stage at once along with the designers, clapping along with the rest of the crowd when they all took a bow. You blew a kiss to one of the designers who caught it and pretended to put it in his pocket.

Still breathless from your short encounter, San nudged your thigh with his own, biting into his lip and tasting the sweetness of your lipstick. You nudged him back, glancing at him through the corner of yours eyes, licking at your own lips, like a predator would before pouncing on their prey.

San couldn’t believe he had finally met someone like you. There was a serpent in his garden — and he couldn’t wait for it to swallow him up.

-

The after party was predictable as always — strangers binge drinking and snorting powder off of your previously pristine marble tabletops, others telling embellished stories about their latest trip to their private islands to various locked-in acquaintances, some off doing god knows what in your many empty guest rooms, and you could not, for the life of you, care about what your husband was currently cackling over with his close friends, focusing on the crackling wood sitting inside the fireplace you were all huddled near. When you inevitably ran out of champagne, you patted your husband’s leg so that he could remove his arm from your waist.

He looked down at you with indifference. “What is it?”

“I need more champagne, honey. I’m going to get some.”

Your husband’s face scrunched up. “Haven’t you had enough? If you drink anymore, you’re going to lose your nice figure.” He looked to his friends for validation who simply nodded along in agreement.

Your husband’s chauvinistic comments didn’t bother you anymore, just his persistent presence in your life. He was like a mosquito that was always trying to drain you, one that you could never seem to swat away. Well, nothing a little dick couldn’t fix. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall the tailor coming in this morning for an emergency visit to alter a certain suit,” you mentioned, this time pushing your husband’s arm away from you, surveying his now quiet friends with an unbothered look, before wandering off, not registering the insecurity driven ramblings that your husband was sending your way.

Once you made your way into the crowded loft, you searched your surroundings for what you were looking for, humming at the sight of the pretty boy from earlier sitting on the large plush couch in the corner, a half-empty champagne flute in hand, his attention on one of the models that had walked for your husband’s collection a few hours earlier. He was even more handsome now that you could study his captivating details, your eyes drifting over his bulky frame, from his large arms and shoulders, to his delicate waist, and down to his spread thighs, zeroing in on what was between them, knowing that the beautiful stranger was blessed in more ways than one based off what you had felt earlier.

Without hesitation, you slowly made your way across the room, your stiletto heels digging into the fur carpet below with each concentrated step, licking your red lips when the model placed one of her hands on San’s thighs and squeezed it, his suddenly submissive expression causing more knots to form within your core. You were going to make him yours.

San could barely hear the pretty model’s words over the loud music and the many overlapping voices inside the loft, not knowing what to say when she moved closer to him, clearly going in for the kill. It was then that someone stood over him, their heel nudging into his loafer. He looked up, his once hazy eyes opening wide at the sight of you standing above him with a bottle of champagne in one hand, your other hand already cradling his face. “M-miss…there you are…”

“Here I am,” you purred, running your fingers along his jaw, satisfied with the fact that your lipstick print was still visible on his tan skin.

San gulped, just about spilling the drink he was still holding onto, unknowingly spreading his thighs open further, as if he was giving you an unspoken invitation to climb onto his lap.

Humming, you lowered yourself into his lap, your plush thighs and ass pressing snuggly against his lower half. “Look at you,” you cooed softly into San’s ear, not caring to give the now fuming model any attention, lowering the cold champagne bottle in between your bodies, chuckling at the soft whimper he let out when it pressed into the exposed sections of his skin. “You’re such a good boy, saving a seat for Mommy like this. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes, I am, s-so good for you…”

“Then, be good and open your mouth,” you purred, lifting the almost empty bottle and pouring some into your mouth. San’s jaw slowly dropped, not knowing that he was already beginning to drool. You didn’t mind, clutching the sides of his heated face and pressing your parted lips onto his, transferring the sparkling alcohol to him, but not without running your tongue over his.

San brought his hands up near the sides of your ass, his fingers trembling, not knowing if he was allowed to touch you, whimpering into your mouth when you sucked the alcohol off of his tongue.

“You can touch, baby.” You reached for his wrists and brought his hands underneath the hem of your short dress, gasping when he squeezed the softness of your ass in between his ringed fingers and began to slowly guide your hips, your clothed cunt rubbing back and forth over his stiffening cock. “Mm, someone’s eager, hm? You’re a naughty one, making the main designer’s wife grind on your cock like this in front of everyone.”

“It’s…Mommy’s fault…” San murmured near your ear, rolling his own hips up into yours, making you feel every inch of his trapped throbbing cock each time he ground himself into you, biting into his lip at the sound of your breathless moans, swearing he saw your grimacing husband from over your shoulder.

“My fault, huh? Mommy should make up for it, shouldn’t she?” you sighed back onto his heated skin, pressing kiss after kiss onto his collarbones, dragging your tongue along the constellation of freckles he had on his neck, making him shudder underneath you.

“Uh-huh…” San moaned out, your hand suddenly squeezing into and sliding back and forth over his erection, your thumb repeatedly rubbing over the pronounced tip, knowing he was staining his expensive pants with sticky pre-cum. “F-fuck, I’ll cum if you keep doing that…”

“So sensitive, baby, you’re so cute…but you’re not the only one, you know? Look what you did to Mommy~” You gave his balls a gentle squeeze just to hear him whimper, before letting go, instead reaching for his hand again and leading it between your legs, moving your soaked panties to the side just in time for San to fill you up with two thick fingers.

“You’re so wet…” San groaned, unable to keep himself from adding another digit inside your slick hole, beginning to pump them in and out of you, allowing the both of you to listen to the obscene squelching sounds your cunt made each time he finger-fucked you. Something switched inside of San when you began to whine and whimper, and fuck yourself back on his fingers, your eyebrows screwed upwards, begging him for more with your teary, half-closed eyes. “So fucking wet just for me, huh? Hey, Miss, did you know your husband is standing just across the room? Think he’s hard knowing I just got his pretty little wife wetter than she’s been in her entire life?”

“B-baby, don’t tease me like that,” you whispered, not wanting the control you had over him to slip out of your grasp, grabbing onto his shoulders, accidentally causing pieces of his solid outfit to fall off and land onto the leather couch.

“It’s San, Miss, but you can call me Sannie if you wanna be a good girl for me,” he chuckled, shoving his fingers into you up to the knuckles, rolling your clit around underneath his heavy thumb. “And, I’m not teasing you, my love, he’s really watching us, and he looks like he wants to kill me.”

Just as you looked behind you to catch your husband’s displeased gaze, San began to ram his soaked digits into your spasming cunt, feeling his lips, tongue, and teeth on your neck. “O-oh my god, Sannie, oh, fuckkkk…”

Just as your warm arousal began to pour out onto his fingers and lap, San bit down into the area where your neck and collarbone connected, letting out a few stunted groans, his hips jolting up into yours, coating the insides of his designer pants with white.

“Did you just…?” you began, before San stuffed his fingers into your mouth, growing quiet and sucking your arousal off of them. He pulled them out with a pop, but you didn’t even get the chance to continue your question because you were suddenly being lifted up into the air, strong hands clutching your thighs, your legs hooked around San’s waist.

Your defeated, emasculated husband was just a blur when San carried you through the crowded room and up the stairs, not stopping until he got to the largest room at the end of the expansive hallway.

“Which side does your husband sleep on?” San asked, once he stood at the foot of the kingsized bed.

“On the right. Why do you–O-oh,” you gasped as he quickly laid you out on the right side of the bed and lifted your dress up, forcefully spreading your thighs open so that he could bury his face in your cunt, repeatedly lapping at your slit and clit over your soaked panties until he couldn’t take it, reaching up to tear your panties off with ease. “Sannie, baby boy, what’s gotten into you?”

San looked up at you with dark, dilated eyes, reaching up to his broad body to rip off the rest of his outfit, his solid muscles flexing as he closed his fingers around your waist, yanking you lower so that your cunt was closer to his face, looking like he was about to eat you alive. “Daddy’s hungry,” he simply replied, diving back into your cunt to lick and slurp up your juices, tonguing your hole just to feel you clench around him, his nose nudging your clit as he ate you out like a starved man.

Sooner or later, you began to shudder and pant, tugging at the ends of San’s sweaty hair, your thighs pressing into the sides of his head until he forcefully held them down, quickly moving his head up and down as he dragged his tongue roughly over your throbbing clit, his focused eyes never leaving yours. “S-sannie, I’m really, fuck– I’m gonna cum…!”

“Cum for Daddy,” he demanded gruffly, stuffing three fingers into your cunt and pounding them into your g-spot, lifting your ass up with his other hand so that he could catch the stream of arousal that suddenly squirted out of you, some of it inevitably soaking into the satin sheets below you. San licked your juices from his lips, going down to give your puffy cunt one last lick to savor your taste, before standing up from the bed and unbuckling his pants.

“Y-you….Did you get possessed by a demon?” you asked half-jokingly, unable to keep your thighs from trembling, wiping the sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist.

“And if I did? You’d still let me fuck you, wouldn’t you?” San smiled devilishly, his dimples appearing, kicking off his pants and running his closed hand along his curved, dripping length. He pressed his thighs against the side of the bed, running the tip of his cock over your lips, watching fondly as you sucked and licked the beads of pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

“I would.” Lifting yourself up so that you could completely rid yourself of your disheveled dress, you reached up for the handsome stranger, licking the saltiness from your lips. “Now, come here and show Mommy just how much Daddy wants her.”

San wasted no time climbing back onto the bed and folding you up into a mating press, leaning back to send a few wads of spit onto your cunt, smacking his hand against the wetness for good measure, before he plunged himself deep inside you.

You just about screamed, not ready for San’s unusual size and shape, the curve of his cock rubbing deliciously along your tightening walls each time he pounded himself into you. “S–ann–ie…! It’s so big, fuck– so good!”

“Aww, poor baby’s never had a big cock stretching out her pretty pussy before, huh?” San cooed into your ear, pulling all the way out, just to slam himself back in, hitting your g-spot dead on, making you cry out deliriously. “You’ll never be able to go back to your husband after this. You’re gonna be begging for me to take care of you from now on….” San pressed his lips against yours, sucking on your tongue as you moaned out for him. “Want you to cum for me again, baby…Squirt on my cock, okay?”

“S-Sannie, it’s too much,” you whined out, dragging your nails down his broad back, your toes curling just as San punched your next orgasm out of you when his curved cock once again came in contact with your g-spot.

As you began to cry from the overwhelming pleasure, San licked your tears away, gently pressing his lips into your cheek and jaw, shushing you. “Don’t worry, baby. Daddy’s here for you.” He clutched you close, holding still inside you, as his cock began to twitch. “Here it comes, princess, just for you.” A hot, creamy stream of cum began to shoot out into you, completely drenching your insides with his load.

You could hardly speak at this point in time, solely concentrated on the pleasure that still had a hold on your sore body and the warmth that was filling you up to the brim, suddenly realizing that your husband really wasn’t going to be happy with you. “Y-you shouldn’t have…nnnngh….”

San continued to roll his hips into you, his eyelids fluttering, groans spilling from his throat, your cunt still milking his pulsing cock for all it had, which was a lot, to say the least. Once there was nothing left to give you, San leaned down, pressing one last kiss to your lips, not caring that you had left your lipstick all over him. “Can I ask you something, baby?”

“Y-yes, San?”

San smiled, his glossy brown eyes glistening in the light. “When you have my baby, will you have the heart to tell your poor husband that it’s actually mine?”

Panting heavily and trying to process what the handsome stranger just said, you finally came to the realization that you let someone who didn’t even know your name possibly impregnate you. Well, at least you had something to talk about over breakfast with your husband, rather than hear him go on and on about his latest collection.

“I’m not sure about that one…”

“Can I ask you one more question?”

“Hm?”

“Should I name our baby Dolce or Gabbana?”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[cambion-companion]

I am mind blown at how good your writing is! Absolutely mind blown! Your portrayal of Aemond in every single piece is just 👌🥹

I do have a teency little request if you’re still taking them and that’s Aemond all frustrated with you, seeing as you’ve been teasing him constantly throughout a feast, which is when he demands/drags you away into a dark corner which he then proceeds to absolutely annihilate you from behind, I’m talking slapping your ass, literally pounding you that hard you’ll have fingerprint bruises all over your hips and thighs, wrapping his hands around your neck and making sure you realise that you BELONG to him. No one else… Please excuse me as I go and fan myself 🥵🔥

Hi!

I hope this is what you were thinking of!

Pure filth

I held off tagging anyone because I won't do that for nsfw fics

Word count: 1233

Aemond x f!reader | smut | lots of smut | possessive Aemond

You were dreadfully bored.

The dinner was dragging on longer than you had the patience for. Hours seemed to have passed since you’d finished eating. The droning conversation around the long table sounding much like the buzzing of lazy bees.

You glanced at your husband out of the corner of your eye, mischief twisting in your pleasantly full stomach.  He certainly looked polished, poised, and ever so handsome.  His long silver hair falling over his shoulders, glimmering in the candlelight.  His violet eye, surveying the chattering crowd with mild disinterest; the other side of his face covered by a leather eyepatch, giving him a roguish appearance.  You wished to run your fingers along his sharp jawline, gripping his strong chin with your fingers and…ah he’d caught you staring.

Aemond’s eye had alighted upon your face, seeming to sense the intensity of your gaze.  His curved lips quirked slightly in a debonair smirk.

He could see right through you.

By the dilation of his pupil, he was feeling much the same upon surveying your own alluring features.

Under the pretense of raising your goblet of wine to your mouth, you reached with your free hand under the table, caressing Aemond’s knee.  He shot you a warning glance, but did not move away, enabling you to continue tracing a wandering path higher up his leg.

You felt his long fingers grip your playful hand as you reached toward the inside of his upper thigh, stilling your progress.  You pouted at him over the rim of your glass.

His eye smoldered violet fire, grip tightening.

You moved your foot then, gently rubbing it up and down his calf. Aemond looked briefly up to the ceiling, as if searching for strength amongst the vaulted beams there, before moving just out of reach of your exploratory foot, his hand still restraining your own.

Servants approached, bringing with them desserts which they placed on the table before you.  You returned your hands to where decorum dictated, helping yourself to a portion of chocolate pudding.

You caught Aemond’s gaze as you raised a spoonful to your lips, making sure not to break eye contact as you slowly sucked the delectable mousse into your mouth.

His lips parted, the prince was barely able to conceal the desire and aggravation warring across his face.  His hands, resting now beside his plate, clenched into fists.

Abruptly, he stood.

You glanced down but his tunic was long enough to conceal any evidence of your hard work from prying eyes.

Aemond extended a hand to you. “May I have a word, dear wife?”

“Of course, loving husband.”  You took his proffered hand, his fingers instantly vicelike upon yours.

With barely restrained haste, Aemond practically dragged you from your seat and out the door into the cooler air of the empty corridor.  

It was a large, long hallway, framed on either side by stone columns, behind one of which your husband pulled you.  The breath left your lungs in a rush as he pushed you roughly back against the cool surface, his lips hot upon your own.  His tongue forced its way into your mouth, tasting the dessert you had sampled.

You returned his embrace with fervor, tangling your fingers into his long hair, pulling him harder against you.  

Aemond broke away to look at your face, his hands gripping your waist. “You think you can torment me, and suffer no consequences?”

“I was actually hoping there’d be some repercussions.”  You breathed out, gasping as Aemond spun you around, your hands rising to support your weight upon the red stone pillar.

You felt his body curve against your back, greedy hands pulling up your skirts as you bent over instinctually, rubbing your backside against his obvious arousal.

“So wanton and needy.” Aemond purred in your ear, his breath stirring the strands of hair coming loose about your flushed face.  

“Speak for yourself.”  You moaned as his dexterous fingers found the heat of your wet core, dipping in between your slick folds.

You bucked against him, eliciting a sharp hiss from the man.  Aemond wrapped an arm around your torso, his fingers making lewd noises as they worked inside you.  “How long have you been so wet for me, hmm, my love?”  He bit gently at the exposed flesh of your shoulder. “We could have left sooner, had I known you desired to be the main course.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, stifling your cries of pleasure as Aemond’s slippery fingers massaged your clit.  You rode his hand, your hips desperately rocking as you sought your release.

“I would love to drink you down, my head buried between your thighs.”  Aemond nibbled at your ear, causing you to shudder, a fresh wave of warm arousal dripping from your cunt as he whispered more filth to you. “Hidden underneath your skirts, I wonder if you could remain standing as I lapped up your sweet nectar, until you came undone just by my tongue.”

“Aemond…”  You tilted your head back, turning into him as he captured your lips in a searing kiss.

“Alas, we don’t have that kind of time.” He murmured into your mouth.

You spread your legs wider, bending lower as you felt the tip of Aemond’s leaking cock brush against your center.

You reached back, gripping his thigh as he slowly slid into you.  Aemond gasped against your neck as he drove deep within your heat, his hand coming to cover your open mouth as you moaned.

The fingers of his free hand gripped your hip with bruising intensity, pulling you back against him as his thrusts became faster.  The sound of the crackling torches upon the wall barely concealed the slapping of flesh as Aemond pushed you further down, bending over you and driving into your cunt with long, hard strokes.  

“You belong to me, Y/N.”  His voice was velvet, you could smell spiced mead upon his breath.  He sucked marks onto the soft skin of your throat, causing you to whine into his hand.

The feeling of his cock moving with reckless abandon inside of you, his body pressing hot against your back, your skirts bunched around your waist, the electric feeling that came with knowing you could be caught in the act at any moment, all combined into such a heady feeling of lust you felt your climax swiftly approaching.  

Aemond’s thrusts became more erratic, his breathing heavy against your neck.  Your fingernails scraped against the column as you came undone around him. You pressed the top of your head against the cold stone, your clenching walls milking his seed deeper as Aemond came with you.  He rested atop you for a moment, still moving his hips lazily against you, relishing the feeling as your cunt spasmed with the aftershocks as you came down from the high of your orgasm.

He squeezed your neck gently before relinquishing his hold on you, allowing you to straighten.  You smoothed out your skirts the best you could, feeling Aemond’s hot cum running down your leg.

“Now.” Your husband tilted your chin up to him with a forefinger. “We will return to dinner and finish the evening without further insolence.”

“Aemond, I’m a mess!”  You protested, keenly aware of the sticky state you were in beneath your heavy skirts.

“Hmm, I intend to help you with that later.  For now, we are expected in the dining hall.”  He grasped your hand, leading you firmly back toward the feast.

He leaned into you, kissing your temple lightly, tugging the collar of your dress down a bit to show the bruises he’d left with his mouth. “Next time, don’t start something you know I will finish.”

[i23kazu]

MEOW MEOW BARK MEOW !

characters. xiao diluc childe alhaitham wriothesley neuvillette x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. oops! they're now all... catboys? and a puppyboy? /nsex | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

i- how- what even?! there's really nothing much to say – it's obvious enough with that crimson blush on his face that xiao just wants to bury himself in a hole and never be seen again. your boyfriend now has sprouted a tail, as well as kitty ears.. and halloween didn't come early, either. he's the cutest thing, though, and you just want to squish him against your cheek! xiao is still his regular size, and he still absolutely adores the warmth of your touch – as much as he pretends to not need it.

diluc

diluc is more embarrassed than anything. brownish red kitty ears, as well as a tail that just... couldn't be hidden in his trousers?! how was he supposed to show up to his business meeting that day? okay, maybe a sulk and a pout creeps onto his face... he definitely tries to hide it from you though. diluc definitely doesn't step out of the ragnvindr manor at all for a few days... and he definitely wears a hat wherever he goes, until he turns back to normal. please make sure to take lots of pictures.

childe

to be honest... he actually doesn't hate it. sure, it's definitely a surprise – but is it really so bad if it brings a smile to your face? you absolutely love stroking his tail and petting his ears. he purrs, grinning and burying his head in your neck, and still rubbing against you. you're lucky that he doesn't actually have cat fur .... it might take forever to remove it at the rate that childe was rubbing his head against you.

alhaitham

alhaitham is more so annoyed by it ... it's definitely an inconvenience – he gets more stares on the street. sure, he already got stares due to his position, but because of the newly grown cat ears? and tail? even the children are laughing. his reputation ruined. life goes on for alhaitham, and he buries his head in a book instead. yes, he's in denial. please make sure to take lots of pictures, because when he's back to normal? alhaitham will definitely take a sip of his tea and straight facedly tell you that whatever that was, it didn't happen.

wriothesley

make way, for wriothesley has puppy features! i think he'd grin through it all, even if that ... smile, seems a little forced. im sure he's not too happy about it, but he's too cute for you to tell him that it'll be over soon (honestly? you secretly hope it'll last longer.) once, wriothesley caught you staring, flashing a grin and telling you to take a picture – it'll last longer. he gets over the fact of having these extra add-ons pretty quickly, and instead flaunts it and teases you with them.

neuvillette

ohhhh. your dearest neuvillette is embarrassed to no end. for the first time in his humanhood, he contemplates putting off a court trial... but alas, he can't. furina has teased him mercilessly enough for the new cat ears and the.. uh, tail that he's grown overnight. needless to say, neuvillette was blushing pink when he woke up and found himself like this. please pet him all you can though – it's no surprise that neuvillette is just waiting for this to be over – even though it brings a smile to your face.

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[hunterrrs]

photos from here, I NEED FOOTAGE OF THIS. also this article is a great read. he’s invited some families who lost their homes in the halifax fires to practice:

By the time you read this, Pittsburgh Penguins players will have munched on the pudding known as haggis, made from the livers, hearts and lungs of sheep. And learned how to shuck oysters, in all their slimy, gooey glory.

All courtesy of Sidney Crosby, the Pittsburgh captain, who brought team building to an entirely new level on Saturday. From the moment months ago that he learned the Penguins would be playing here, Crosby was stoked. A proud native of Cole Harbour, 10 miles from Halifax, the 36-year-old began planning out his transformation from NHL star to tour guide.

“I think just the feel of it, the people, and to see the excitement for the game,” Crosby said Friday. “And just to get around the city a little bit, those types of things.

“It’s somewhere that I’m really proud of, and I hope everyone enjoys themselves there.”

In order to do that, he set something up with a unique Maritime flavor. Welcome to “The Amazing Race: Crosby Edition.”

“When Sidney found out the team was coming here, he wanted to find a fun way to celebrate his hometown with his teammates and educate them on why it’s such a special place,” his father, Troy, said.

He seems to have done exactly that.

After a morning of golf Saturday, the unsuspecting Penguins set out on an “Amazing Race”-like scavenger-hunt competition that would take them through the streets of Cole Harbour, Dartmouth and downtown Halifax, and across Halifax Harbour on a ferry.

Under the format, the players were divided into teams. They were given instructions of where to go, what venues to visit and what tasks they were to do (e.g., eating haggis, shucking oysters), all while going up against the clock.

The instructions came on laminated cards featuring the Penguins logo and a “Welcome to Cole Harbour” greeting.

The message on one of the cards read, “Every player has to shuck two oysters and eat them or have a teammate eat them on their behalf. Careful with that knife, and don’t break any shells!”

Crosby enlisted the help of Paul Mason, one of his baseball and minor hockey coaches, to help plan the event. Mason was paramount in setting up the three Cole Harbour Stanley Cup celebrations in Crosby’s honor, and No. 87 didn’t hesitate when it came to the perfect person to set up this event.

“In organizing this, when he talked to me about it, he wants this entire weekend to be pretty special for the community, for his teammates, for everyone around him,” Mason said. “You can sense how much these few days mean to him. You could sense his anticipation for months.”

Mason said that even though Crosby is the host for his teammates this weekend, he’s going to try to win everything: golf, the scavenger hunt, the preseason game Monday, you name it.

“He’s competitive at everything, even as a little kid when I was coaching him,” Mason said. “And that hasn’t changed.

“When the NHL was shut down during COVID, his dad Troy and I played Sidney and one of his friends in a golf match. They should have won, but somehow we did. He didn’t accept that. He said it was two out of three. When we won the second one he said it was three out of five. We ended up playing seven of them. The seventh one was in December with snow on the ground. They won that one to take the series 4-3. Suddenly that was acceptable because they’d won.

“Once they’d finally won, it was over,” Mason said with a laugh.

During some of those summers, Greenwood has helped organize some of the offseason skates featuring Crosby, MacKinnon and Marchand at a local arena. The competitiveness gets intense at times, something Greenwood said helps all three drive each other.

“Yeah, they’re friends,” he said. “But when they start playing against each other at times, you’d never know it. They want to beat one another at any and all costs.

“You can see how that drive, that determination, that win-at-all-costs attitude rubs off on some of the younger guys.”

Count Drake Batherson as one of them. The 25-year-old Senators forward grew up in New Minas, 50 miles northwest of Halifax, and has been training during the offseason with Crosby, Marchand and MacKinnon since 2019. He calls those workouts “one of my favorite times of the year.”

As such, he’s looking forward to facing Crosby and the Penguins in Halifax on Monday.

“I've still got posters of the Penguins and Sid on my wall at my parents' house, so it's pretty fun now that me and Sid have built a relationship and we're buddies," Batherson said. "It's pretty cool looking back on it.”

It was a tough spring and summer for Nova Scotia.

In late May and early June, wildfires raged through the outskirts of Halifax and throughout the province. More than 16,000 people were forced to evacuate as a result, many eventually returning to find their homes were nothing more than heaps of smoldering ashes.

Less than two months later, the area was hit with record rainfall that caused historic flooding. Water did seep into Crosby’s home, though to nowhere near the extent of some others where people pretty much lost everything.

“The area has been through a lot,” he said. “But the great thing about some of these communities, and the area in general, is that everyone sticks together and everyone’s willing to help each other.

“I think when you’ve seen adverse times here over the years, you’ve seen people come together more and more. And I think we take a lot of pride in that here. The fact that people know they can depend on each other is huge. I think we’ve shown that time and time again, and there’s pride that comes with that.”

Crosby is doing his part to teach local kids exactly that.

On Sunday, the Penguins will hold a practice at Cole Harbour Place. Hundreds of children from the local minor hockey systems have been invited to attend and take part in a Q&A session with some Pittsburgh players and, with a select few kids getting to go on the ice with them.

Part of that group will be kids from minor hockey whose families lost their homes in the fires. Crosby specifically wanted them to attend, with Mason helping to make it happen. Given the trauma they and their families have gone through, it is Crosby’s way of trying to brighten up their lives, even if it’s just for one afternoon.

“That’s Sid, right?” Greenwood said. “He’s going to have an impact on these kids, both on the ice and off.”

He already has.

In 2009, Crosby established the Sidney Crosby Foundation, an organization that improves the lives of children who are sick or struggling. More recently, Crosby and several foundation board members created Nova Scotia Showdown T-shirts heading into the game Monday, with proceeds going to his foundation.

“He’s helping young kids who are going through hard times, and he’s being a role model for young hockey players in the province,” Mason said. “He’s going out of his way to show his Penguins a good time here, and he’s being a great ambassador for the community.”

Greenwood agrees.

“It’s a privilege,” he said, “to say you live in the same place as someone like that.”

[archiveikemen]

Vogel’s Extremely Indulgent Time-Killing: LINE Chat

— Crown’s Sweet Revenge

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

“My Lovely Crown Gathered In A Room”

William: This is an emergency meeting.

Liam: Hereee, Will.

Victor: I’m hereee, William.

Roger: You guys are as fast as ever to reply.

Harrison: It’s rare for Will to be the one calling us.

Elbert: Did something… happen?

Alfons: I’d like it if the topic isn’t anything dangerous. 

Alfons: Oh, where are the two who work at a trading company? 

Ellis: Here.

Ellis: Jude is here too. He’s smoking next to me.

Jude: Why’s it gotta be when I’m so damn busy?

Jude: Gatherin' us without that pleb. Must be some kinda dangerous mission.

William: It looks like Vogel has given us some rather amusing nicknames.

Jude: Ha? 

Jude: Nicknames? Ya called us here for somethin' that dumb? Are ya stupid?

Harrison: I did sense something was off about you, though.

Liam: Hasn’t the weather been hot these days? Will isn’t good with heat. 

William: Shall I read out a few? 

William: Shameless mirror man, the company president’s personal assassin, sparkly Mr Pink, grumps…

Alfons: AHHA! They called you a shameless mirror man, Roger.

Roger: That’s 100% referring to you. 

Ellis: Grumps must be Jude.

Jude: Ellis, I’m cuttin’ your pay.

Victor: Hey, about me? What did they call me?

William: Don’t want to nickname, long-haired weirdo, energetic dove. 

Victor: Don’t want to— no, more than that… d-dove? 

Jude: That damn Vogel lookin’ for a fight?

William: … No, I think it’s the opposite. 

Ellis: The opposite?

William: They definitely thought of these special nicknames to deepen our friendship.

William: Therefore, we should return the love.

Liam: I see! As expected of Will.

Harrison: I’ll be honest. Will does have his very “Will” ways of being optimistic.

Victor: That’s what makes William so wonderful★

Harrison: You be quiet, Dove. 

Victor: You’re so cold, Harrison~~!

Alfons: So, basically we’re taking our revenge… 

Alfons: We should assign them nicknames too in return.

Jude: I say we hit 'em back as hard as we can.

Liam: I’m getting excited! Who do we start with? 

William: Shall we start with their Chief? 

Elbert: … I thought of one. 

Alfons: Aren't you in perfect condition today, Elbie.

Elbert: Fluffy smiley Chief. 

Ellis: Cute. 

Liam: He wears a fluffy coat and is always smiling!

Alfons: That’s very “Elbie”, but doesn’t it sound too cute?

Alfons: For example… we could do “two-faced perverted fallen angel”.

Roger: That’s a straight up insult. If anyone’s a pervert, it’s you.

Ellis: We don’t know yet whether he’s two-faced or perverted.

Alfons: That’s purely what I’m hoping for. Does that face of his with all the features that’ll make him popular not piss you off?

Roger: I agree with that. I’m thinking of something like “super hairy legs”. 

Liam: You guys are always bickering but in sync when it comes to weird stuff.

William: So it’s decided that Darius is the two-faced perverted fallen angel… 

Liam: It’s decided that he’s the WHAT!? 

William: Next are the twins Nica and Ring. 

William: Let me think. Since they’re twins, we should give them nicknames that come in a set.

Elbert: …Twins… twins…

Elbert: Twins with unkempt eyelashes.

Alfons: Lame!

Ellis: Pudding and Pie.

Roger: Lame.

Alfons: How about Clever and Cherry? 

Liam: I understand why “clever” suits Nica, but why “cherry” for Ring?

Roger: Oh, don’t tell me—

Harrison: Not another word, Roger. This concerns a man’s pride.

Alfons: It’s just a guess ♡

Alfons: I don’t actually know the truth. 

William: The twins will be Clever and Cherry, then.

William: It’s decided. Now, all that’s left is to tell Vogel. 

Roger: Tell Vogel? About this? Are you insane!? 

William: It’d be a waste not to tell them after we’ve gone through the trouble to come up with those nicknames, you know? 

Liam: Sometimes, I can’t tell if Will is being serious or he’s just kidding.

Victor: That’s another thing that makes Will so wonderful ★

Harrison: You shut up, Dove.

Victor: Harrison’s being cold to me again~~! 

William: Well then, I’d like to entrust this task to one of you…

Jude left the group

William: My, was it a bug?

William added Jude

Jude: Ha?

Jude left the group

William added Jude

Jude left the group

William added Jude

Harrison: … I’m SO glad she’s not here. 

[sillyteecup]

The Wrong Way

Roman Reigns x black!o.c

Jey Uso x black!o.c

Chapter 4

Warnings:

18+

Strong language

Misogyny

Mention of sexual assault

Taglist: @wrestlingprincess80 @nbanenefrmdao @vebner37 @theninthwonder @tshepisho @lensilver2 @trentybenty @empressdede @queen-shadow22 @becauseimher @jstarr86 @jaded-human @c-sgolden

A.N: This took me too damn long😭😭in my defense though, school has been drowning me and I've barely had the time to get this done quick enough, but ke...what can be said? Anyway, here is chapter 4 of The Wrong Way. I hope you like it. Enjoy❤️

Lori did not believe in setting expectations for people. As it was, she tried to keep her social interactions with anyone she did not know or trust to a minimal. Being a certified introvert, she thought it to be unrealistic to hold people to any social standards before speaking to them. All expectations bred disappointments as life is fickle. Human beings weren't nearly as fickle as life, but they could never be the exception to the rule.

All of that to say, she didn't know what to expect from the Tribal Prince Jey, as the first they met he grinned at her as though she were a piece of meat, and then the second time he glared at her like a foe. Now they were seated opposite each other in the matte black suv that Paul assigned to them, and he still had a scowl on his face.

"Have we met perhaps?" Lori questioned, breaking the heavy silence.

Jey tilted his head, features dancing between confusion and wondering if she was just stupid. "What?" he asked.

"Well you've been glaring at me since I landed, so I couldn't help but wonder if we had crossed paths and I happened to have wronged you by chance," she said indignantly, her irritation at his current expression slowly boiling.

"You're one to talk, when you don't look like the happiest trooper yourself," Jey said evenly, trying to keep an iron grip on his temper.

"Well I'm sure you can agree that there is nothing to be happy about as it stands," Lori pointed out bitterly.

Jey's face scrunched up in mild annoyance. "Yet you asked to ride with me. And for what? So you can shit on me for not acting like everything is sunshine and rainbows?" Jey spat, getting angrier by the sexond.

"I asked for you to accompany me so that we could perhaps get to know each other and maybe figure out a way to make this work, not have you sit there pouting like some petulant child who was denied pudding after dinner!" Lori hissed, finally losing her temper.

She watched as Tribal Prince Jey sat in his seat, jaw clenching as he likely fought the urge to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze till she was dead. If only he knew that she had the same thoughts swimming around her mind.

"Says the immature little bitch that threw a tantrum in the middle of a meeting because things weren't going her way," Jey said venomously.

"Tribal Prince Jey I assure you that while I respect your royal standing, I cannot allow you to call me out of my name. I shall hold my tongue because I was raised to be a respectable young lady, but-" she had begun to rant before being cut off by a mirthles chuckle from Jey.

"Respectable? Girl you a whole ass ho that runs around serving up pussy to every man that smiles at you," he said maliciously.

At this, Lori's heart stopped. Her hands began to tremble as tears threatened to spill form her eyes. She mentally condemned her father to hell for the way he painted the loss of her virginity as her being promiscuous. She had always rued the day she trusted him to understand and empathize with her for what actually happened that night. But now, at this very moment, she hated him for this false portrait he had sold of her to this family. He threw her trauma like a piece of raw meat into a den of lions. One day, he would pay.

"You do not know anything about me," she said, tone lowering as she seethed in rage.

There was another one of those mirthles laughs. "I don't need to. And frankly, I don't want to. Just 'cause we engaged, don't mean I need to coddle your feelings or be your friend or whatever the fuck you were hoping to achieve here!"

Lori bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from speaking out of line. Just because he was an insulant fool, it did not mean she had to stoop this level down in hell to defend herself. She was a woman of honor and dignity; there was no place in her mind that was reserved for engaging in petty spats with an individual such as Tribal Prince Jey.

"If that is what you so wish, then very well," she said evenly, marking him as dead to her.

No one could say she did not try.

➽──────────────❥

Roman, Paul and Sami arrived at the family mansion, or "the palace" as they usually called it, to find Miss Loreal Moore with her maidens, and Jey waiting for them. While the maidens each took in the courtyard with awe, Jey and his fiancé seemed disgruntled.

"Damnit," Roman whispered to himself. Even after the clear warning he had given Jey, his cousin did not cooperate. Roman could not let his incompetence slide as it would set a bad example to his brothers and the rest of their cousins. But he would deal with that later.

"The lady looks unhappy, my Tribal Chief," Paul pointed out, only adding to the grating of Roman's nerves.

"Wiseman, please tell me something. Do I look blind maybe?" Roman questioned him sarcastically, to which he shook his head rapidly while stammering for an answer.

"N-no, never my-my Tribal Chief. Your eyesight is absolutely perfect. 20/20 vision I would say-" Paul rambled, attempting to calm Roman down before he angered him even further.

"Then what made you feel the need to point out something that I can so obviously fucking see?" Roman said through gritted teeth. Everybody just seemed keen on trying his patience today and he couldn't understand why.

"I apologize my tribal Chief. But, may I ask, are there any plans by chance that the Tribal Chief may have to sway the lady in our favor?" Paul genuinely asked. If there was one thing Roman appreciated about his Wiseman, it was his dedication to the family. However Roman couldn't let his real plans be known, as one of the pieces to his little chess game was in the front seat.

"The best we can do right now is be hospitable. Show her that she's in the right place," Roman said before flashing a smile at Sami through the rearview mirror. "Ain't that right Sami?" he asked Sami in what has half a joke and half a threat.

Sami caught onto this and his lips curled up nervously. "Yes my Tribal Chief, definitely," he laughed nervously, earning a pat on the shoulder from Roman.

"Wiseman, get my door," Roman commanded while keeping his eyes on Sami. The moment Paul left the car, Roman leaned in to whisper into Sami's ear. "You and Miss Loreal Moore friends, Sami?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"She's been very kind to me my Tribal Chief," was all Sami said.

"I hope you've been returning the energy. After all, she might need a new friend around here," Roman whispered, sounding genuinely concerned for the lady.

"Oh, yes definitely, my Tribal Chief. I have shown Miss Loreal Moore nothing but kindness and I would be happy to be her friend if she allowed it," Sami rambled nervously. Roman moved back and smiled.

"Good, good. You're a good man Sami," he said, ending the conversation right before Paul finished announcing his presence and opened his door.

Right as he stepped out, Ms Loreal Moore's sharp gaze shot into his direction. "Miss Loreal Moore, you seem displeased-" Roman began to say, being cut off by his cousin's fiancé.

"I wish to go home. Now," she stated, her voice trembling as she struggled to hold it together.

Roman was taken aback by her demand. Her tone sounded to him like she had likely been angered or triggered by something Jey said. His neutral gaze quickly shifted into questioning glare towards Jey, who only scowled and turned away.

"I'm sure that whatever that happened to to make you wanna do that can be fixed. I don't know you well but you seem like a smart, mature and level headed woman. So let's just-" Roman began to say to calm her down only it be interrupted again. Which was beginning to get on his nerves.

"That thing you just did; attempting to soothe my ego to gaslight me into agreeing with whatever" solution" you were going to come up with? I hate it. It is an insult to my intelligence. And from what I can see, this family seems to be built on the foundation of insulting those they feel are lesser beings to them! I am by no means a fool! I know why that-" she took a breath to control herself mid-rant before continuing.

"I know why my father sold me to you people. I did not expect to be treated kindly or for this to be a fairytale of sorts, hell I did not even expect to be treated with integrity. But what I cannot take is being refferred to by obscene words, and then having my intelligence insulted less than 4 minutes later. If this is how it is to carry on going forward, then I would rather you put me on the next flight back to my home, so that I may live out the rest of my days in unmarried bliss," she finally finished before letting out a heavy exhale.

Roman clenched his jaw and nodded. He began to rethink every time he said Naomi was too stubborn for her own good. Compared to Miss Loreal Moore, Naomi was child's play. Even though she always gently kept them grounded, she had never outright called them out on their bullshit. Let alone on her first day on the island. As much as Roman appreciated this woman's strength, he also understood that she was going to be a nasty piece of work to mould into their image. Yet he found himself enticed by the challenge. Clearly he would have to break her and rebuild her in an image he saw fit. And one thing about Roman? He enjoyed playing God. But he would have to be smart about this. She had already seen through his first trick, which to be fair he hadn't even thought was one to begin with. He was just used to solving problems like that. Nevertheless, he was going to have to get far smarter than he ever had.

"I see. Wiseman, show them to their rooms. They've all had a pretty long day and are in no state to travel right now," he commanded, noticing the storm grow in Miss Loreal's eyes.

"Miss Loreal Moore, I shall speak with you tomorrow morning at 07:00 once you've had enough sleep," he added, hoping to quell her still rising temper.

Her eyes narrowed as she bit the inside of her cheek. It was as if she had realized that now that Roman had made his choice, there was no arguing. At least she held authority to a high regard to some extent.

➽──────────────❥

Skin illuminated by the sun rising, Lori took in the appearance of her room. The walls were a dull dull beige that contrasted poorly with the dark oak doors and large, arched windows. The curtains were a glaringly bright red, an irritating sight that drove Lori to open the curtains at the crack of dawn. They with the bedding sets and the velvet couch on the other end of the room. It was big, more spacious than the one back home. She hadn't bothered to check the size of the closet as she had no intentions staying long. The carpet and sheets were black, along with the blackwood vanity set. The whole room was dreadful.

And so was this family. Lori's mind had been flooded with predictions of how the Tribal Chief would try to coax her into staying. Having caught on to his tactic yesterday and with the understanding of the weight this marriage holds, she figured that Tribal Chief Roman would likely attempt slither his way into her mind to convince her that all of this was worth it in the end.

And maybe it was, but a few words dipped in caramel would not suffice in proving that to Lori. She glanced at the huge round clock on the wall next to the bathroom door, 05:30. Her maidens had insisted on making sure that they were at her side by five o'clock sharp, however Lori resisted. Insisting that she would much prefer if for the first time in a very long time, they rested. They deserved it. And her parents were not there to tell them otherwise.

After bathing and moisturising in complete solitude for the first time since she was born, she took the long-sleeved cotton sundress that. Minerva had picked out and ironed for her, and put it on. Lori then moved to sit by her vanity and frowned. She had never done her own hair before, and now with the bonnet covering her braided hair, the lack of experience had come back to bite her in the ass. From what she had observed in Willow doing her hair, her long, voluminous afro was no easy feat when it came to styling.

What if I just woke Willow up to help with my hair, then immediately after, she goes back to sleep? That would not be cruel would it?

Her pondering of her dilemma was interrupted by a knock on the door. Confused, Lori checked the time again, 06:30. Could the girls already be awake? She stood up from the stool and cautiously made her way to the door. The knock sounded again, right as her hand had touched the handle. Finally she opened, and on the other side was the last person she had expected to see.

"Sami? What are you going here so early?" she asked him. As nice as he was, and as much as she planned to utilise him if things went south, Lori was still guarded when faced with all the members of the Bloodline. After all, who was to say it wasn't an act?

He stook tall in her doorway with a boyish grin. He sported a black Nike t-shirt and sweats with sneakers to complete the ensemble. "Good morning Lori! Tribal Chief said I should swing by and check if you're ready," he explained cheerfully. His grin however faltered when he took note of the bonnet.

"What?" Lori said, noticing the change in expression. Sami grimaced in response and gestured for her to let him in. Hesitantly, Lori stepped to the side only for Sami to usher her back to the vanity. "Sami what is the meaning of this?" she demanded only for Sami to gently push her into the chair and smile at her through the mirror.

"You don't know how to do your hair do you?" he asked slyly, causing her eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

"How did you know?" she questioned, wondering what had given her ineptitude away.

"Educated guess," Sami shrugged as his hand hovered over her bonnet. "May I?" he asked, earning a nod from Lori which prompted him to remove it, revealing her hair. "Wow," Sami gasped as he felt the soft texture of her hair.

"What's wrong?" Lori asked in concern, not sure how to take Sam's reaction to her hair.

"Nothing, it's just-I've seen healthy, beautiful long hair before but this? God, your mom must love you," Sami said, still in awe of the sight before him.

Lori just wore a wry smile at the last comment. While she was sure that Sami meant no harm as he was unaware of her relationship with her family, he still struck a nerve. When speaking of her connection with her mother, Sami wasn't asking, but Lori had been for the longest time. And by the looks of it, she would never get an answer.

"Actually, Willow is the mastermind. Before that it was her mother. The two of them have been so kind to my hair in the way they have taken care of it. In fact, I would probably have cut it all off had it not been for them," Lori explained, notes of gratitude in the way she spoke. Willow and Mrs Graham had been taking care of her hair and keeping it healthy since she was born. They were the real heroes.

"Either way, they are hair goddesses," Sami chuckled as he began to braid Lori's hair.

That's when it dawned on her. "You know how to do hair?" she questioned, eyeing Sami suspiciously as his red locks were out and untamed.

"Yup, an old friend taught me," he replied, not seeing the way she looked at him.

"And where is she now?" Lori asked curiously as Sami kept unbraiding and gently detangling.

Sami glanced at her through the mirror, eyes gleaming with a hint of sorrow. "She-uh, got married," he said before clearing his throat. He was then quick to change the subject to how he barely saw the point in styling his anymore since the island's climate was never kind to it. Lori zoned out as he rambled on and on, watching as he carefully brushed and styled her hair into a simple low ponytail with a puff at the bottom, completing the look with sleek baby hairs.

A white man can do my hair better than me? I need to up my game.

Despite the huge favour he had done for her, Lori still couldn't help but be unconvinced. Apart from him, she had met two direct members of the Bloodline, and both of them have proven to be...unappealing for lack of better words. Why would she trust that Sami hadn't had the same ideals indoctrinated in him. After all, as much as he was "an outsider", he had still been there longer than her. And since he did not offer the family prospects of wealth as far as she understood, there had to be another, more sinister reason to keep him around. If only she had thought of this on the plane yesterday.

"Sami, why are you helping me?" Lori asked, her trust issues suddenly flaring up.

"Because you're cool, duh," he replied as if it were obvious.

"Cool?" Lori questioned, unsure what he implied with the term. Her father had always considered that kind of language to be juvenile and forbid it around the house, however Lori had heard it time and again at her old University and during the two years when Lord Byron had allowed her to go to a private high school to graduate instead of finishing with a home school education. Still though, she was not very familiar with the context of the word.

"Y'know, good, nice. Cool," he simply said. Although he was not clear, Lori understood just fine.

"Oh okay. Lovely." If Sami was acting, he sure was doing an amazing job at it. Either way, her oncoming talk with the Tribal Chief would determine whether or not it mattered.

➽──────────────❥

"The Tribal Chief requested that I escort you to his office."

Tribal Chief Roman's office was cold...fitting the stories she had been told of the man who inhabited it. Perhaps it was the intense air conditioning, or maybe it was the lack of a personal touch to it's decor. Either way, apart from the spread out red and black furniture pieces, it was rather dull. Lori doubted he cared to much about the aesthetics anyway.

She had been seated on the black couch situated next to the door, about 5 feet away from his desk where he sat, nose buried in his work. Her eyes followed the clock's hands as time slowly ticked by, foreshadowing her slow and agonising ego death, should she choose to stay here. It had been 3p minutes and the man hadn't said a thing aside from "Have a seat." Part of her felt like there was an angle he was playing at here. A psychological one that she couldn't quite point out. Perhaps he was asserting dominance by making her wait on his time. If that was the case, then the one he had hoped to present would not hold up too well.

Her eyes scanned the bookshelf to her left. The names on the spines of each book caught her by surprise. While some of the books were typical of what was seemingly his nature, such as The Art of War, the others were unbecoming of what she had noted about him so far. Romance novels.

The rest of the titles were in Samoan and Italian, two languages Lori had not an inkling of an idea about. Still though, the very idea that Roman likely not only spoke these languages, but also read them was somewhat attractive. An observation she mentally chastised herself from. The very reason she had let her sights roam around the office was to avoid settling her gaze on him. Lord knows how he would react to his cousin's fiancé staring at him.

Speaking of his cousins, before she slept, Lori had done everything in her power to cleanse her memory of her interaction with Jey yesterday. Better to pretend it never happened than to let it hold power over her. Her logic was faulty, but it worked. But that did not by any means imply that she would be thrilled about being in the same room as him. The last thing Lori wanted was to be executed for murdering her fiancé. Regardless of how satisfying it would be.

"I take it you slept well?" she suddenly heard Tribal Chief Roman say.

Keeping her gaze on the window behind him, she nodded. The room was ugly but the bed was comfortable. "Yes, my Tribal Chief."

"Good. As a future member of this family it is only fitting that the best is what you are offered," he said, causing her to scoff. His gaze narrowed at the action. "Why do you want to leave?" he asked her, tone completely neutral.

"I was quite clear about my feelings yesterday, my Tribal Chief. I do not appreciate being treated like a street urchin by your family," Lori responded coldly.

Tribal Chief Roman placed his forearms on his desk to lean forward. "What did he say to you?" he asked. His voice had dropped to a dangerously low octave that struck a feeling that Lori was not familiar with in her chest. It was a mix of two feelings really; fear that was all but expected, but more surprisingly, yet minimal, lust.

"Things I would rather not repeat," she said.

"Because you're afraid?" he questioned with an arched eyebrow.

"Because I am a lady who refuses to compromise herself by spewing anything unbecoming of me," she retorted with a scoff. Yes, Tribal Chief Roman himself was terrifying, but that was not a sentiment she held towards Jey.

He leaned back into his chair, firm gaze remaining on her. "Whatever it is that he said, does not reflect our views of you. He will be corrected-"

"You mean punished," she commented, cutting into his sentence. She noticed his jaw clench at her interuption and swore she choked on her breath.

"And I will make sure, that nobody else treats you like that again," he finished, patience waning with each word.

"Why go out of your way instead of allowing me to go home?" she questioned, knowing the answer but still wanting him to completely clear up his intentions.

"You said it yourself yesterday. You know why this engagement was arranged; political gain for my family in return of financial gain for yours," he explained with a shrug.

Lori slowly nodded, the sound of the clock ticking re-invading her ears. "Where is he?" she asked. She wasn't sure why she was curious, but she was.

"His house not too far from here. Sami neglected to tell you that you two will not be living together until after your wedding," he explained, causing Lori's eyebrows to shoot to the edge of her hairline.

"How come?"

"Tradition," he stated vaguely. "Some things I have no control over, although something tells me you don't mind," he said, subtly pointing out her already existing grievance with his cousin.

"Do you have control over how often we are to interact?" she asked half-jokingly.

"Don't push it," he responded in a tone similar to hers. "I would advise you not to worry too much about the personal aspects of your engagement. The moment you two are married, you can get your own place nearby and only have to interact during public appearances," he said, tone reverting back to serious.

She fought the urge to ask if that was his arrangement with his wife a she had not seen her yet. Unless of course the divorce rumor was true.

"Until then, I am to stay here with you and Sami?" she inquired.

"Are you comfortable with Sami's presence?" he asked. His omission of her comfort with his own presence did not slide past her though. But she would let it seem as if it had.

"Yes. He is good company," she acknowledged.

"Then he will stay here as well. Anything else?" he asked. An answer immediately came into mind.

"Yes, actually. Could one of your staff perhaps get an interior decorator on the phone?" she requested, taking him aback.

"I do not like how my room looks," she specified, putting him at ease.

"I'll have it arranged as soon as possible. Is that all?"

She nodded wordlessly.

"Good. I'm assuming Sami informed you about today's agenda if you stayed?" Lori shook her head 'no' in response as her features festered into a look of curiosity. Sami must have thought that there was no way in all seven variations of hell she was staying there. Never say never, they say. Tribal Chief Roman ran his hand down his face and sighed, attempting to quell his frustration at Sami omitting this information.

"Today is your welcoming ceremony. The day when you're being introduced to the entire family and our ancestors as Jey's future bride and as a future princess to the people," Roman explained.

Lori's stomach twisted into knots. If there was anything she hated nearly as much as being blindsided to marriage, it was large gatherings and parties. All of those eyes on her, perceiving her always sent her into a spiral. If the very people that conceived her saw her as inadequate, who was to say that these people who did not know her from a table spoon harboured similar sentiments. Not to mention the whispers of gossip that she found mind numbing. A fact that would be hypocritical if Lori herself was a gossip.

She preferred self-preserving journalist anyway.

Nevertheless, she had chosen to stay and become a part of this bloodline that many considered to be of high esteem. Lori had chosen to become Tribal Princess Loreal. No longer Miss Loreal Moore. She would finally be rid of the last tie to her wretched father. If anything, that just sweetens the deal. This ceremony was just the starting point, one she would overcome with poise and grace.

"Is there a specific dress code, my Tribal Chief?"

[cain-speaks]

🍭 𝙎𝙒𝙀𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙊𝙊𝙏𝙃 🍭 || Macaque x Reader Oneshot

» sweet tooth (cavetown) « 0:45 ─〇───── 4:07

╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ This is a oneshot. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader uses she/her and is a cat demon, so she has cat-like features/behaviors! ➤ Described the clothes but tried to keep it simple/vague so ppl could add more details if they'd like! ➤ BRO THIS TOOK SO LONG I'M SORRY. I kinda lost the plot a few times I think,, and I got super into the shadow story,, hope this is good!! Also sorry if I switched tenses at some point, it happens rip. Also also if the kiss scene is bad I'm so sorry, I'm awkward asf LMAO. ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include profanity, a little bit of angst, referenced toxicity, and referenced murder. ➤ Word count: 3,494

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

❝ A sweet tooth for you, I'm wide awake .❞

Your tail vibrates excitedly as the timer goes off, alerting you that the mango pudding is done chilling. Grinning widely, you almost run to your fridge, throwing open the door and crouching to pull the cool dessert out. You take a deep whiff as you wander back to the counter, shutting the fridge door with a bump of your hip. It smells heavily, and an experimental shake of the pan leads you to believe the sweet treat has successfully set.

You set down the mango pudding and turn to the dishes, rinsing them in the sink and leaving them in the basin to be thoroughly cleaned later. As you scratch a particularly stubborn splash of dried pudding from the whisk, you look over at your oven, squinting to read the numbers displayed.

5:47.

"Oh, cow-milk," you hiss under your breath, finishing up with the whisk and nearly tossing it into the basin.

I'm going to be late! you fret as you pull off your apron, throwing it upon the counter as you rush to your bedroom to pull on your outfit: a simple white turtleneck under a soft long-sleeve and high-waisted plaid pants, complemented with long socks and short, buckled heels. Once you finish with your outfit and additional accessories, you grab a basket on your way out of your room and quickly fill it with cutlery, cubed mangoes, sugar, and of course, the pudding.

You pause for a second, ears flicking about as you try to make sure you haven't forgotten anything. Your time is cut short as another alarm sings on your phone, titled Get The Fudge to Mac's!

You squeak, shoving your phone into your pocket and spinning on your heel as you race out of your home, narrowly keeping the basket from slapping against your side.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You're fairly certain the only reason Macaque doesn't snap at you slamming the dojo doors is because he heard you coming.

He's curled up on his couch, a hefty book in his lap—probably about something medicinal or floral if you had to guess. Your eyes flicker to his face, scowling as you see his signature smirk, golden-brown eyes scanning your hunched-over figure in amusement.

"Look what the cat dragged in," purrs the demon.

"You—hah—think you're soooo funny," you grit out, shuffling to the couch with a glare.

"When have I ever been wrong?" Macaque asks.

The monkey slaps his tail across your face before you can recite the "a" portion of your alphabetized list.

"How come you're so late today?" he teases. "Normally you're here before I am."

You roll your eyes and give a half-hearted bite to the demon's tail, barely grazing the fur, but he pulls it away with a narrowed gaze anyway. You give him a dramatically sweet face, fluttering your lashes as you set your basket on the table.

You make a lazy gesture at it. "I made something for us."

"Oh?" Macaque asks, cocking an eyebrow. "How romantic, starlight."

For a split second, you consider letting your embarrassment at the implication get to you. But then you decide if Macaque wants to be a little evil, you may as well join him.

"Only the best for you, moonflower," you coo back, revelling in the way the black-furred monkey's face heats up around his spiked mask. You immediately laugh at his blush, far more elated at your ability to fluster the stoic demon than you think is normal, adoring the way his ears wiggle as though trying to hide his face.

"Laugh it up, kitty," he grumbles, reaching out for the basket.

You lunge forward and smack his hand before his claw tips so much as brush the handles. "Nu-uh! That's for after dinner, loser."

Macaque frowns and squints at you, shaking his hand and blowing on it in classic dramatic theater kid fashion. "What are you, five?"

"Out of five~!" You sing-song, scooping up the basket as you jump to your feet. "Now get cooking, Macaroni."

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

When Macaque announces the food's almost done, you decide to raid his wardrobe for pajamas.

You zoom up the stairs before he can say a word, but to your surprise, he doesn't make so much as a sigh as your thundering footsteps fade into his room.

It's weird. Normally Macaque always whines about you snagging his clothes, complaining about the pastry stains or endless amounts of cat hair that ends up on them—which is a small price to pay when you're constantly making him yummy treats! But tonight he's oddly quiet.

Come to think of it... he's been acting off for a while.

You noticed it last month. Your time spent with the monkey had turned more physical—training, teaching you how to make certain foods, dancing, cuddling. And amongst his standard sarcasm and snark, he was complimenting you a lot more, too. You'd even started finding little trinkets around your house! So unless some other purple-coded weirdo was breaking into your house to leave you jewelry and pretty flowers, it had to be Macaque.

But on the other hand, Macaque seemed to be... distancing himself. A canceled plan here and there, an excuse to leave the room every now and then, a strange new sense of secrecy within the demon, as though he was guarding something from you. As if he was afraid of you coming too close all over again.

It was so confusing. If you allowed yourself to consider that the demon had fallen for you of all people, what were you supposed to make of his behavior? That he hated the idea of loving you so much that he was deciding between making a game of it or completely pushing you away?

The thought strikes you right in the chest, your bottom lip falling victim to your sharp teeth.

Just recently you'd come to terms with just how much you really like the monkey—how much you love the sound of his voice and the way he drags you into trouble and his devotedness to you as a friend. It'd been an earth-shattering realization, really, one that left you tossing and turning in bed and damn near ripping your fur out.

How could you be blamed? Macaque was hardened like stone in the aftermath of his past, resulting in a closed-off and apathetic creature, a lone wolf in spite of his nature. It'd taken so, so much time and patience to get to where you two were now, laughing and poking fun at each other in his dojo, his safespace.

The last thing you want is to lose everything because your silly heart loves tragedies.

"Starlight!" Macaque's sharp call comes from downstairs, making you jump. "The hell are you doing? I said dinner's done!"

"Ack—I'm coming, just a minute!"

You quickly throw on a loose shirt and shorts, struggling a bit with the hole for your tail before finally settling the limb and bounding out of the room. Immediately, an aroma of deliciousness hits your nose. You almost stumble down the stairs due to the distraction, righting yourself with an embarrassed flush (boy, are you glad Macaque didn't see that) and carefully making your way into the kitchen.

Your eyes widen at what you see. A large bowl of chǎofàn sits at the table, neighbored by a plate of tángcù lǐjǐ and another of xiǎolóngb��o. The scent is divine, and you would call the meal a gift from Buddha if it weren't for the smirking demon leaning against the counter.

"Like what you see?" he asks cockily, tail sweeping against the ground in a lazy sway.

"No way you just made all of this!" you exclaim, grinning.

"Maybe I'm just that good," replies the black-furred monkey with a wink, fetching two plates and some silverware out of various cupboards and drawers.

"Not that good," you snort, grabbing your basket from the fridge. "Come on, what's the trick this time, moonflower?"

The demon falls strangely silent at your question. You raise an eyebrow at his back, waiting for a response. Finally, in an uncharacteristically small voice, Macaque says, "I've been preparing."

There's more to it. There's definitely more to it, but you won't push.

You set the basket down on the floor and take the plate held out to you, happily filling it up before moving to your seat. Macaque joins you on the opposite side, silent save for the short scraping sound of silverware against glass. The uncomfortable silence threatens to spoil your appetite, and you spend a few quiet minutes praying that the demon across from you will say something.

"Is it good?"

Thank Buddha, you think, immediately put at ease to hear his voice.

"Duh," you say, swallowing another forkful of delicious food. "Your cooking is some of the best I've ever had."

"Oh really?" Macaque leans forward on his elbows, hands laced under his chin, and you feel your face warm ever-so-slightly. "Then where do I rank, starlight?"

"Top ten at least," you tease, reaching for more chǎofàn. Macaque unlaces a hand to pick up the bowl and pass it to you.

"At least," he chuckles. "Well, eat up. I have a play to put on."

"A play?" You repeat, cheeks round with rice.

Macaque nods. "Yes." Quickly, he adds, "for you."

You very nearly make a quip about the romance of dinner and a show, but seeing his tail tense and thud against the floor makes you reconsider.

Instead, you smile. "I'll be there."

The monkey snorts. "Better be. If you stand me up for rice and chicken, I'll never make it again."

You fake an angry grumble. "Don't you have to go prepare, smart guy?"

He blinks. Once. Twice.

"Oh," he says, simply at first. Then his eyes widen. "Oh, yes! I have to—there are things I have to—I'm going now." Macaque cuts his rambling short and just barely avoids sprinting out of the kitchen like his tail is on fire.

"Don't—" you cringe at the sound of something falling, followed by a quiet yelp. "—hurt yourself on the way out..."

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

You sit amongst soft blankets and pillows, tails curled around your knees as you wait for the play to start. The light of Macaque's lantern bathes the dojo in a violet hue, shadows dancing with the sway of the lantern as Macaque gets into position. The monkey's innate shadow powers and connection to the lantern make it easy to manipulate it and the dark for his purposes, so part of you is confused that Macaque settles himself so far away from you. You reason that maybe the demon's just feeling extra dramatic for this story.

Or maybe this is it, you think.

Even if you don't know what that means.

"Welcome viewer, to a shadow play the likes of which have never been seen."

You smile at the signature opening line, a soft purr rumbling in your throat as you listen closely, ears perked in Macaque's direction.

"Here we follow another tale about the tragic Warrior." Macaque's voice reverberates around you, and you watch as a simplified silhouette of hi—ahem, "the warrior" manifests from the shadows. "Though this story is unlike the others—for instead of our Warrior bearing yet another arduous chapter of life, perhaps he has found his happy end.

"Everyone knows the tale of how the Sun came to betray the Moon. But what very few have to come to learn is that it was the moon that brought on such a tragedy. You see, many centuries ago, the Moon could only see their dark side—blemished, indecipherable, and lacking in light. So often the moon thought of their dark side and wept, believing that if it was all they saw, it was all anyone could see. And then the Moon realized something. They were the Sun's only companion, their only friend, so surely, surely, the Sun would give their light to them.

"And at first, the Sun did everything they could to show the Moon just how bright they could be. The Sun taught the Moon everything they knew, and the Moon took that knowledge and taught it to others, becoming a beloved warrior. And when the Moon became the Warrior, they changed the Sun into a Hero—a well-shaped, perfect vessel of holiness and goodness.

"The Sun allowed for this because they loved the Warrior, so they locked themselves within the Hero. And while the Warrior loved the Hero very much, they were so blinded by the love of their light that they didn't see what they were doing to their beloved Sun.

"Years passed and the Warrior had taken almost every bit of sunlight. Only their heart and a small sliver remained, which the Sun branded on to the Hero's golden cudgel and hid beneath stone so the Warrior could not find it. This angered the Warrior, who still could not see what they'd done to the Sun, for they were so hidden within the Hero. He said, "my hero! Why do you hide your light from me? Is it not mine, too? Have I not helped you shine?"

"The Hero replied, "I hide nothing from you, my Warrior, certainly not our light. I simply have no more to give you."

"The Warrior was displeased, and this displeasure, coupled with the dimming Sun, poisoned their light until nothing remained but a thin halo around the two of them.

"This terrified the Warrior—to see that they were so close to becoming the Moon again, so close to being consumed by their dark side, that they demanded the Hero give them their heart. Only this time, the Hero refused.

""You are not a hero," spat the Warrior. "And you are no longer a warrior," whispered the Hero. The Warrior was so angry, so enraged, that they attempted to swallow the Sun itself. They peeled away the Hero's stone body to reveal the blazing heart beneath, fully intent to rob them of every last bit of light they had, even if it meant they'd never shine again.

"The Sun broke free of the Hero's perfect body, and, using the light on the golden cudgel, banished the Warrior to a place of no light. No stars. No song. Only darkness.

"A place where the Warrior and the Moon would blend in perfectly."

While you've never heard the story portrayed this way, you find it heartbreakingly easy to tell he's talking about his death and descent into Diyu. You fiddle with your hands, pressing on the paw pads as you stare, watching the Warrior turn into wisps as a glowing mass of shadows (the Sun?) forms into a tendril and strikes them.

It's almost too much to watch, your brain caught up in what preceded Macaque's death. Is this why he's been so nervous? It would make sense—the version of the tale makes him vulnerable to say the least, and it's oozing with painful, regretful honesty. Macaque may not be a liar, but the truth has never been easy for him.

The scene changes, shifting in a quick montage.

"For centuries, the Warrior rotted in their anger and sorrow. So angry were they that they allowed themselves to be hung from strings like a simple puppet, used as a weapon to harm undeserving victims."

Flashes of burned and otherwise destroyed villages wrap around the dojo, all with a chained Macaque hovering above, eyes burning. The last image you recognize as the Monkie Kid and his group. A shadowy tendril wraps around the kid's limbs, attached to him in a similar way to Macaque's chains. Your stomach twists.

"Even when the Warrior finally forgoed their wrath and reconciled with the Sun, they still could not find it in them to shine. They'd ruined the Moon many years ago, and now the Warrior was ruined, too.

"...or so they thought. One day, the Warrior came across a maiden. She was gentle and wild, comforting and unapologetic, unwavering and bold. She was a river, a storm, a mountain who stood unblinking before the weight of the Warrior's darkness.

"The Warrior thought they were doomed to break her, as they so often did to strong things. But then the Maiden produced a mooncake from her robes, split it in half, and said, "Would you share this treat with me, O' weary Warrior?""

A feminine silhouette appears before the Warrior, dressed in a flowing hanfu and flowers. Most interestingly, the Maiden has tufted ears and a long, fluffy tail just like—

Your face erupts in a shocked blush as understanding dawns on you. The first time you met Macaque, you'd been out selling mooncakes. It'd been a good day, and by the end you had a single treat left, which you fully intended to scarf down while watching the sun set. But then you'd seen Macaque, leaning against a bridge and watching the reflection of the sun in the river, and he just looked so sad, you thought a mooncake would add a little brightness to his face.

A pity cake it might have been, but you think it was one of the best pity cakes you've ever had.

"The Warrior took the Maiden's gift. Together, the two ate at their cakes until they were naught but crumbs and the sun had long set. Before they parted, the Maiden smiled at the Warrior.

"And the Warrior glowed.

"The Warrior glowed so bright that moonlight shown through the cracks in their skin, that stars came down to twinkle in their fur and they could hear the sweetest dreams whispering in their ears, and all they said was "Mooncake Maiden" over and over again, for the Warrior had finally found someone to glow for, not because of."

You almost bust out laughing, a mix of adoration, shock, and amusement bubbling in your chest. "Mooncake Maiden", huh? Maybe you should start a business.

"For weeks, the Warrior and the Maiden continued to meet. The Warrior continued to glow, feeling more and more like the great warrior they once were. They even began to think of themselves as the moon again, not as an imperfect surface, but as a new vast and complicated world, one they wanted to explore by the side of the Maiden. All they had to do was ask her."

The shadows merge into a single ball, gliding towards you and settling before you. The ball reforms, revealing Macaque kneeling in front of you, your hands held gently in his. But what really catches your eye is his glamor—or lack thereof. His six ears, the reason for his namesake, unfurl from his head like flower petals, glowing shades of blue, pink, and purple that illuminate both of your faces. His fangs elongate past his bottom lip and a white halo of fur surrounds his face, shimmering in the gentle light.

His eye, blind though it may be, is milky and spotted like the bright side of the moon and you can't help but think it's the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

"And now to discover how this story ends," he says softly.

"Macaque—" you begin, only to fall silent when he squeezes your hands.

"I know I'm not a hero," Macaque says. "I think I might always be a little evil—a trickster, a bit of a thief, a bully every now and then; a shadow of something good. But you make me feel... real. Like I can be something more, something people can love and adore without getting hurt, and I haven't felt that in a long, long time, starlight."

You blink, feeling something wet tease the corner of your eyes. Your heart thumps in your chest, tail unfurling from your knees and reaching out. Macaque meets it halfway and they curl around each other like ribbons.

"I love you," whispers the Six-Eared Macaque. Louder, he says it again, and you shiver when he says your name. "I love you, and if you'll have me, I'll be yours for eternity."

Your mouth feels dry, your body nearly numb with—what, shock? Excitement? Happiness? Exhaustion because you're feeling all the things? Probably.

But still, your heart swells at the confession and your hands slip from his to cradle his face and you say, "I love you too, Macaque."

Macaque grins, eyes shining wetly. His hands go to your cheeks, thumbs brushing under your eyes. His ears flap against your hands for a second, and then he whispers, "can I kiss you?"

Your heart nearly explodes. But you give nothing away as you utter a soft, "yes."

You're not quite sure what to expect when his lips meet yours. Fireworks, or maybe like a puzzle piece is shifting into place. You think you can safely say you feel neither, but you do feel both of your growing smiles, until you're pulling away to laugh and Macaque follows suit.

When your giggles die down, you pet the demon's ears again. "You wanna have dessert now?"

The black-furred monkey huffs, leaning into your touch. "In a minute," he murmurs, and then he's bringing you back to his lips.

❝ I like you—say it back .❞

[gigimarvels]

OLD POKEMNON GIJINKAS FROM 2023, IM NOW MAKING A NEW THING WITH MOST OF THESE DESIGNS (FEATURING NEW CCHARACTERS) SEE THEIR NEW UPDATED ART!! *this will be a long post* WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF GIJINKAMONS In this world Pokemon have evolved so much they have now taken a human form, Gijinka if you will. This story revolves around a group of gijinkas and some side characters that all reside within Cobblevale City. we follow 6 Individuals who work as one of the general teams for the Legendary Entei who is part of the city's "nursery sector" meet the team

Team leader, Tally-Ho or Tally for short Cetitan Gijinka Age- 32 Nature- Sassy She is very head strong and takes no shit from anyone but enjoys being the Dotting older sister of the group

Tox the second in command and overall "badboy" Toxtricity Gijinka Age- 27 Nature- bold he doesn't like getting wet, so don't rain on his parade has a soft spot for the Talonflame in their group named Ames has a band, enjoys music A LOT

Mochi the youngest member of the team and the silent little sister Pyukumuku Gijinka Age- 20 Nature- Quiet She sees both Tally and Tox as her older siblings, and will protect them with all her might she talks in sign language cause opening her mouth can be catastrophic Graham the Morgrem of the group ate her pudding from the communal fridge 3 years ago and she hasn't let him live that down she loves getting hugs from Ames

Umi the Loud heavy hitter of the group Breloom Gijinka Age- 28 Nature- Hardy Tally's Ride or die, AND LOVES TEASING THE SHIT OUT OF TOX Thinks Graham is a bit of a pretentious ass, but he wears his heart of his sleeve so she deals with it extremely protective of Mochi and Ames (insert they asked for no pickles meme here)

Graham the Shiny of the team Morgrem Gijinka Age- 27 Nature- Impish? Funny his nature says Impish but he acts more bashful when he's out in public? Graham has an everstone on him because he doesn't want to evolve even if it means he will never reach his full potential as a pokemon, he just doesn't want to deal with his families expectations shines in general are because of a virus, they need to use substance packets to keep their daily metabolism from dropping most shinnies don't try to become Arena fighters, but Graham feels he has something to prove he falls hard for a shiny Ribombee who's a receptionist at the battle arena.... "you sure you ain't bashful bruv?"

Finally the last team member and the newest to join Ames Talonflame Gijinka Age- 23 Nature- Jolly she moved to Cobblevale city from her small hometown of Whistleleaf village, she was personally invited by "Uncle" Entei himself she has a secret she can't fully share yet but in due time it will be revealed with her flame body she GIVES THE BEST HUGS, kinda oblivious to Tox's flirting

I'LL SHARE THE SIDE CHARACTERS IN THE NEXT POST!!! BUT HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FIRST POST ABOUT MY MAIN 6 CHARACTERS!!! this is another side project I'm happy to be working on because honestly i love gijinka designs TO DEATH

[yntaro]

Let’s talk about Romance Mangas!

My say to those I have read and loved: (not ranked)

1. This Manga hurts my heart. I read it while on high school and it kinda hit me with how lonely I am because I never had an Ayane-chan and Chizuru-chan, and Kazehaya-kun to downright change my life to better. But I did enjoy those time because I had romance manga to begin with. Kimi Ni Todoke might be the one that get me into read romance mangas. I liked it because I somewhat relate to Sawako, being outcasted and all. I grew to love their story, and found myself hoping that maybe love will come to me too.

Kimi Ni Todoke (From Me to You)

2. In this spin off featuring Kurumizawa Ume (a character from Kimi Ni Todoke) and Sawako’s cousin Eiji Akahoshi, my hope for meeting love blooms even greater. They were soulmates as the title suggests so they were literally speed, but then I haven’t read the latest chapters yet because I can’t find them (if anyone know, pls let me know). As I was saying, they literally skipped the slow burn but still works because we can now root for the former second leads. (Yes, Eiji is from another romance manga from the same author: Crazy for Love)

Kimi Ni Todoke: Soulmate

3. What do you do when you accidentally married a man twice your age?? Some may not want age gap romance, especially when the age gap is 20 years, but you might change your mind reading this manga. It’s wholesome and you can actually find yourself smiling and rooting for their relationship to work. This manga has been going on the internet, it’s popular so you may had heard of it, it’s where I heard of it, so I think I don’t have to had any say except I enjoyed it and I am finding or accepting manga recs similar to this.

Gomashio to Pudding (Sesame Salt and Pudding)

4. WHOLESOME IS THE WORD. This manga is fresh breath of air. I’m pretty sure most of you guys have heard of it as it’s one of this month’s anime. I just love how cute they are in each chapter, even the other couples. And I thoroughly enjoy Himuro’s monologue. :)) If you guys were bothered by random pacings, you should watch the anime instead. They swept up the plot.

Koori Zokusei Danshi to Cool na Douryou Joshi (The Ice Guy and His Cool Female Colleague)

5. Wahhhh this is really addictive, I can’t stop myself from thinking that the whole time I am reading. A combination of slice of life, comedy, and romance genre, huh. Who knows it will all work beautifully as in this masterpiece. (Also, Sousuke Shima’s character design reminds me a bit of Miura Kento from Kimi Ni Todoke)

Skip and Loafer

6. HOT. I have no other words. Some may misunderstand though. But it’s what I think of it, like will you look at them!!! They’re attacking me. I hope we got to see how their relationship progress soon. Btw, I’m all in for Ichi, I’m sorry dear Oji.

Uruwashi no Yoi no Tsuki (In the Clear Moonlit Dusk)

Aaaand I just rumbled my thoughts on the last part. I may edit it for a more serious discussion later. Thanks! :)))

[pond-child-edd]

VERY excited to announce that in the last few months OblivionDowning and I have been working away at a merch drop for fans of the pond comic, featuring two of the original characters: Waugh-Chan and Pudding. Or for the uninformed: Tord and Edd's cat girl OCs respectively!

Not only does the money raised go towards supporting both Ann and I, but Ann would like to donate 15% of his profits to a charity organisation called Crohn's and Colitis UK, which aid in research and remedy for bowel diseases as such.

While we don't want to spoil all of our work quite yet, we're happy to show you the two shirt designs available for order (available in sizes S-XL)! All of the items will officially go up for sale on Friday the 3rd of February (whenever we find the time to do so)

One last note to mention is as this is our first merch drop ever, THESE ARE VERY LIMITED ITEMS! we're talking like 10 shirts in total! This is partially to test the waters with this kind of thing but also ensure that all of our stock sells! We hope you understand

[total-drama-brainrot]

What if Noah (who is afraid of hypnosis, but allowed Alejandro to hypnotize him for Owen's safety) tries to warn Owen about Alejandro, during the London Adventure? (The hypnosis won't allow him to tell the complete evil truth about Alejandro, but Noah finds a loophole by simply saying: "Owen, be careful... Alejandro is like Heather, but with social skills.") 🍥 How would Alejandro react to Noah finding a loophole to warn the others? Would the Hypnotist be impressed and amused? How terrified would Noah be when he learns that 'his Hypnotist' had heard him try to warn the others? 🍥 What if Alejandro threatens to COMMAND Noah to vote off Owen, if Noah ever tries to warn the others again?

Not trying to spoil anything here but you're mentioned something in this ask that's featured in the next chapter of 'snap, crackle and pop' and I'm not sure if that means I've foreshadowed it as well as I hoped I did, or if that means I'm taking the plot in a super predictable route.

Anyway-

First point: Alejandro's reaction

Should Noah manage to find a loophole in the hypnosis and try to warn Owen (and Tyler by association), I think Alejandro could react one of two potential ways.

The first being, he doesn't take it well at all.

In canon, just the comment that he's "slippery" and "like Heather with social skills" is enough to have him visibly upset with Noah, to the point he has him eliminated that same day. And later on in Drumheller we see that, when things don't go according to his plans (him losing the first challenge despite building an accurate dinosaur), he's quick to throw a tantrum anger. So having someone find a way to break the airtight control you have over them would be a pretty significant punch to the gut for Alejandro.

After all, if Noah could find that loophole, who's to say he wouldn't be able to find more? Alejandro's supposed to have the nerd under his thumb, but how assured is that control when Noah keeps devising ways to refute it?

He's going to have to employ more than just a hypnotic suggestion to keep Noah in line if he wants his plans to run smoothly without the interference of an unruly bookworm. So he'd resort to other means of keeping Noah docile; i.e. physical intimidation, blackmail, social isolation, ect. But I don't think he'd have Noah eliminated. He's spent far too much time and effort investing in having Noah as his pawn to just get rid of him at the first sign of rebellion. Instead, he'd have Owen or Tyler eliminated.

Since Owen is Noah's only real ally on the jet, getting rid of him would leave Noah himself alone and vulnerable- perfect for Alejandro to take advantage of to re-establish his control. However, Owen is also his bargaining chip over the cynic, the person inadvertently keeping Noah from lashing out against him (by means of blackmail), so Alejandro is torn between keeping him around as insurance of Noah's obedience or having him eliminated to further isolate Noah from the rest of the cast.

(And also, Noah's defiance is a challenge for Alejandro to overcome, which is exciting enough for him to keep Noah around for. After all, Alejandro is incredibly competitive- he loves a good challenge.)

On the other hand, I could also see Alejandro seeing it as a fun little quirk to crush out of Noah work on.

Because if the only way Noah could manage to communicate his thoughts was an indirect compliment ("like Heather but with social skills" could be interpreted as a compliment, since it's essentially calling him better than Heather- that, and Alejandro likes/tolerates Heather, so being compared to her shouldn't really bother him), it means his hypnotic order of "don't shit talk me, twink" has worked. The proof is in the pudding, so to speak, so the satisfaction of seeing his hypnosis working would outweigh any annoyance he has with Noah trying to circumvent it.

And, again, he'd see the circumvention itself as a fun little challenge. I've already spoken on that though.

So he'd regard Noah abusing loopholes in the same way a pet owner regards a misbehaving puppy; he'd think it's cute. He'd stop it as soon as possible, but he'd think Noah's futile struggle against him is endearing.

Alejandro in canon has this same mindset towards Heather in canon, at least until the late game when he starts seeing her as an equal. He's incredibly patronising, and even more so self-assured, meaning his ego's far too big for him to ever really consider Noah being able to outmanoeuvre him in his own game. (In short, he's too egotistical to see the threat of Noah's defiance for what is really is.)

.

Second point: Noah's reaction

This Noah, being genuinely phobic of hypnosis, would be hesitant to portray himself as anything but completely subservient to Alejandro, in fear of the other's potential retribution. (As opposed to regular rk!Noah, who's not afraid to be as much of a little bitch as possible regardless of the consequences. In fact, he goes out of his way to be as uncooperative as possible.)

Which is why, being caught trying to warn the others when he thought he was safe from Alejandro's constant observance immediately sends Noah into a full blown panic attack. He hides it well enough at the Ripper Reveal, but as soon as they stop filming Noah darts away to the nearest secluded area, making sure he's actually alone and unsupervised.

The contestants watching the Ripper challenge is going to have this Noah's paranoia skyrocketing even more than usual, because now Alejandro could be watching him at any given moment (he isn't, but Noah doesn't have the comfort of knowing that.)

His first thought, which is what sparks his hysteria, is concerned with how Alejandro is going to enact punishment for his misconduct. The things Alejandro could potentially do to him or make him do have Noah spiralling in the cargo hold/confessional/cockpit (somewhere private, but the cockpit could be a good option for some parental Chref if that's your cup of tea) until he comes to the conclusion that he needs to get himself eliminated ASAP.

Because if he's out of the competition, he's out of Alejandro's clutches- hypnotic triggers be damned, he just wants to get away from him.

So he tries to rally the vote against himself. By outright asking Tyler, Duncan and Owen to vote for him, because he doesn't have the time or the patience to scheme his way into being eliminated- he needs out now. Duncan is more than happy to oblige, as is Tyler (he's still salty about being left on the rack, which is entirely justified #JusticeForTyler) but Owen puts up a fuss about voting for his little buddy, so Noah then has to spend the rest of their time between the challenge and the elimination ceremony convincing Owen to vote for him.

(Meanwhile, Alejandro is convincing the rest of the team to not vote for Noah despite his wishes. And it works.)

When Owen/Tyler is eliminated instead of Noah, something inside of him shatters.

Before he can even start picking up the pieces of his frazzled mind, he catches sight of Alejandro in the corners of his eyes, smirking ferally towards the bookworm and looking so proud of himself for orchestrating Owen/Tyler's elimination.

(This scene is more impactful if Owen's the one to go, but I love Owen too much to want him eliminated so early even if it would make for some choice angst.)

.

Third point: My thoughts

I'd like to keep Owen around for Alejandro to use as blackmail over Noah, but by this point in the story Alejandro already has a pretty solid foundation of control over Noah even without the threat of Owen's safety, so having him eliminated in London would be the angstiest route to take the story- especially since Owen was the sole reason for Noah undergoing the hypnosis in the first place, so having him booted the very next challenge is just yet another kick in the teeth for Noah.

As much as I love the idea of Alejandro threatening to force Noah to vote out Owen, I don't think a Noah who's phobic of hypnosis would be coherent enough to process such a threat. The moment Alejandro brings up the threat of having Noah under a trance, Noah's in fight or flight mode- it doesn't matter what Alejandro's making him do at that point, just the fact that he'd hypnotised is enough to have him panicking (when he's coherent enough to do so).

[touloserlautrec]

Happy STS! Today's question is brought to you under the influence of medication that is currently melting my brain but helping my back to feel better.

Do drugs feature in your story at all, whether legal and medicinal or illegal and recreational?

THEY SURE DO! Thanks for the ask!

For starters, telepaths and people with mental knacks are generally pretty intensely affected by substances-- their knacks are sharpened by uppers, and get really overwhelming and sloppy with downers. SolCorp telepaths are often issued dextroamphetamine as a booster for the field. Reeve is one such telepath. This may or may not be a problem. There are also occasions when he or Alex (psychometry is a mental-based knack in this 'verse as well) also lean on caffeine to sharpen or alcohol or benzos to loosen things up in order to achieve certain goals.

Reeve would definitely argue that his dextroamphetamine pills are on the up and up because they were issued by the Corp-- a pharmaceuticals company, after all.

Red wine is a notable trauma trigger for our boy Reeve. And there are so, so many cigarettes in the Church. Alex also grew up with adoptive parents who struggled with substance misuse and addiction. And Fox is definitely low-key an alcoholic.

In volume three, we get to know Scott a little better-- he used to indulge in some partying, but these days mostly just unwinds with occasional cannabis gummies. Another character is in recovery-- and this isn't so much a drug, but his knack gets him high when he uses it, so that's A Problem. SolCorp has AA meetings run by Pluto's Second (also in recovery), to support knacked people through recovery.

On the medical side of things, Misha's knack triggers an auto-immune response, so he has to take meds to manage lupus (Hannah, our resident medic, may or may not threaten to crush them up and hide them in his pudding at one point).

I think that covers it? Phew!

(P.S. I hope your back feels better soon!)

[ourolite2]

ᨳິ petites idées!　　sfw & suggestive black chongyun.　reader gender unspecified, slight physical teasing. also, bahamian slang was used which i hope was applied properly bcs i am not bahamian LMAO. please do correct any with accuracy if i'm wrong! ༄

•　 chongyun is from the CARIBBEAN. he is BAHAMIAN. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!! therefore i'm certain he knows variations of creole spoken in the bahamas, such as bahamian creole and haitian creole. however, his accent and his usage of the language grow in prominence when he code switches specifically. otherwise, his accent is subtle and only heightens when excited or uses an expression. nigga stepped back in surprise and went "mudda sick!"

•　 side note, chongyun also prefers oils like peppermint and eucalyptus because of their heat-defying properties. get too close and you’ll have a breath of fresh air from anywhere above his neck with the slightest whiff. i’d argue that this adds onto his natural scent and repels demonic energy from him, making his duties as an exorcist nothing but effortless.

•　 this is not only my theory but neso’s as well, that high temperatures of weather provoke unbridled frustration, while a high degree in spice provokes his code switch into a more slang-embedded and chatty persona, regardless of the emotion with this linguistic swap. high temperatures in the aspect of becoming overly flustered or anxious would result in stereotypical lightskin ass behavior. symptoms include smooth and failed rizz, leaning against a nearby wall, nodding upward in a 'sup' motion with a sweet smile, and other laughter-bellyache inducing antics.

•　 under the same subject, arousal can also cause certain emotions since.. other parts would become more heated than anticipated. this does not result in smooth behavior, but rather improper use of slang and a few mumbles of "goddamn" or "gyat" to himself. he is not smooth, he's adorable! uh-- well... unless it's hot outside while such occurs. then he'd come off more embarrassed with an attitude due to his ineptness to hold eye contact, in addition to how much he's stuttering and fidgeting in your presence. hm... this is still pretty cute tho, isn't it?

•　 y'know, there's so much black cuisine beyond soul food, but to start off with such chongyun's favorite sides would be potato salad, banana pudding, and deviled eggs because they're delectably served cold of course. as for other types of black cuisine, specifically bahamian or just caribbean, he likes conch salad, johnny cake with some vanilla icecream, crab rice served at room temperature, and despite his sensitivity to heat, chongyun can certainly exalt freshly made plantain fufu with various kinds of soups. also, if his environment is colder his emotions are less chirpy, allowing him to prefer being more composed and chill (pun intended), therefore warmer foods become considerably more tolerable for his yang energy to handle.

•　 you uh.. you guys know how he has those calming herbs in his popsicles for his yang energy? well.... what if he smoked those herbs to calm down? y'know how he doesn't come off aggressively and he's a chill sweetie? well.. imagine he's miffed and just reaches for one of his joints...

•　 okay, okay. let me close off by saying i looooove the pretty blue theme for chongyun's character, especially in his natural features, meaning his hair, eyebrows and eyelashes. his clothes matching is just a perfect plus. he'd have three strand twists done in his hair as his day-to-day style as well as his favorite style. the contrast of light blue to his gingerbread cheeks and tawny forehead is so eye-catching, radiating soft, approachable energy. assuming xinqiu is also black here, he definitely re-twists chongyun's hair for him sometimes; this is because doing it himself can make chongyun too hot, since wash days are a workout and a half. he'll have to constantly take a popsicle break til' he runs himself dry. if not xinqiu, however, y/n can lend a comb and a few hours, right?

꒰꒰　　Fifteen minutes after washing and conditioning the lapis exorcist's head of hair, Y/n was confined to numbing their body by sitting in the same position as they moisturized his detangled spirals and corkscrew curls from the ends up. T'was doubtless that the young man was unfazed and emotionally pacified by the massage of cold-pressed cream and peppermint oil to his scalp and ends. Chongyun sighed in delight behind closed, mocha lips, ever appreciative to have someone so amply amiable to assist him with this monthly test of his sanity. "Dunno how I'd do this without you, Y/n. I admire your skill and precision, ‘cause Lapis knows I physically can't fuc-.. can't function..."

Y/n peered from behind him with a velvet grin, taking pride in being so adored for their charitableness. Even so, they were rather rushed and absentminded in their pursuit to deliver succor before Chongyun blew a fuse on his own, so they had no medicinal popsicles on hand to subdue his yang energy's lingering emotional outburst.

Thus, Y/n hummed patiently in response to his subtle agitation layered in clouds of gratitude. "Hmm? No, no, your skill and precision out-rival mine in many things, baby blue. You're an exceptional exorcist for one, aren't you?"

Y/n's words were warmhearted enough, in fact, to cause a drought upon any venom brooding beneath his furrowed expression. Continuing massaging his scalp with the eucalyptus now coating their fingertips earned them another exhale of relief from the miffed munchkin. Alas, this relief was faulty and short-lived, unlike the addictively euphonious voice beginning to toy with his muddled mind.

Y/n leaned further down so that their chest was pressed to the back of Chongyun's head, followed by tilting his head back enough to face them. They endowed a silken kiss to his now ever-more baked forehead, leaving one hand to caress the front of his neck and the other to hold onto his lower cheek and chin. With how his eyes could only widen in a failed quip, his plump lips parting and spreading into a naturally flustered smile, you'd think he must feel heavenly against Y/n's spread thighs. However, the opposite was evident, as his body's temperature began to rise and only increased with Y/n's giggles in response to his adorable reaction.

'Poor cute little thing.' Y/n mused, with their widened lips stuck in that gorgeous upturned setting. Their hand placement was all the more amusing (to them at least) as Chongyun breathed out an incoherent 'damn' under their touch, denying himself any further vulgarities as they continued kneading their fingers onto him and trailing their nails across his sensitive skin, goosebumps present and halfway-completed hair neglected.

"Don't start with your failed, flirty antics on me either, baby blue.. Just enjoy me like this, I'll fix your head momentarily."　　꒱꒱

⑅ leman productions. all rights fucking reserved, do not plagiarize.

[rzyraffek]

Odd request, but could you mess around with slashers x gn/male partner who gets seasonal depression or it gets worse when the weather gets crummy? It's been raining for a while where I am and could go for a little comfort, haha.

Possibly Brahms or Billy Lenz? Or anyone else you really want to write.

Can do🌼 If anything here is not accurate please feel free to let me know i really dont want to offend anyone🌺

They/them partner with masculine features okay? Because it might get confusing to read when everyone has he/him pronouns i really hope that you dont mind i just know it wil get confusing

(Sfw) (Request open)

Billy Lenz👽

What you mean seasoned depresion? Doenst sound tasty? He does not belive in long words.🙄

At first he will think that his partner will just be sad for whole winter(or other season but Winter/Autumn is pretty common) which is upsetting because he loves winter. But when he finally understands what being depressed means, he will do his best to be useful

Even if they dont have Energy to leave bed/ do anything in hause, he will stay with them, at first he might talk but if they arent in mood for that he will just keep them company. Its his way of saing 'hey im here for you its gonna to be okay🌼'

He cant cook but if he sees that they were avoiding food latley or just not leaving their room for a while, he will bring them choco pudding

If his partner is cis-man and they grow a bread(and it gives them disphora) he will help them shave it. Like yeah Billy is silly chaotic goblin man but u seen him? Either he has testosterone level -5 or he knows how to shave

Also if they feel bab when weather is gloomy he will just cover the Windows? No Windows=no weather affecing them, easy😎😎😎 (thats billy saying that not me)

Overall 9/10 wont force them to talk to him and will give food

Brahms Heelshire

He knows what it is, but its still heartbreaking to see them like that

If depresion goes hard like hard to the point they cant leave the bed. You remeber how in every Brahms headcanons i mension that you have to help this guy take a Bath? Yep its reverse now. Now He takes care of them

I know that Brahms is a lil bebi boi lil shmol bebi men, but he can get mature if he wants to, he will bring them tea, headpats and warm words. He will probably avoid talking at first, but its because he feels like walking on minefild, NOT because of them being depresed, but because he knows that he sometimes gets angy at random stuff and he really desnt want to yell at them

Hes more happy to give them hugs and lay in bed with them (of couse if they want to)

He will try light up the mood with good dinner or a nice walk around the mansion.

Will spend more time with you, but if you need space he will understand

Overall 8/10 tries his best to light up the mood by being romantic gentleman. Will bring you tea -2 points for being british

Yautja (hes here only because i have funny ideas)

Wym mental health?? Season makes ur brain go not good?? I- my beloved we are on spaceship rn wym

The idea of depresion itself is pretty new for him, so they need to teach him

He will go 😨wym you sick in mind and theres no medicine? 😓aww man 😍 i guess I will stay by urside and help you with anythin u want😈

This guy will pick you up and carry you everywhere u need to be. U need to take a shower? Boom. You are hungry? Watch him speerun cook some pasta with salt and kechup (he has No clue how to food)

Will cuddle

Again if any of those make their partner uncomfortable he wpnt do it, those are just sugestions. Also I know that depresed people arent just little sad bolls without Energy to get out of bed. But he doesnt know that! He didnt know depresion exsisted till 3minutes ago!

6/10 acts like his lover is shmol sad Ball, and will baby them around

[haggishlyhagging]

In "Paradigmatic Woman: The Prostitute" (1977), I collected words belonging to the male vocabulary that describe women's availability to them as sexual objects and extrapolated the semantic parameters that structure the sub-class. Because these [-male] words belong primarily to male slang, the set itself is in constant flux, with some terms being discarded as new terms are added. I began with the most commonly known words men use for women they believe are sexually available to them, hooker, whore, slut, pussy, gash, and slit. With the aid of colleagues, students, and friends, I added terms and phrases found in slang dictionaries and novels and heard on television, until I was sure that whatever terms l'd missed wouldn't affect my analysis. I ended up with more than 200 such expressions, and Schulz (1975) found another 100 (74, en. 7). The magnitude of this semantic set and the fact that new terms are constantly being added suggests that it can expand infinitely.

I began this research thinking that I was looking for synonyms for prostitute, but quickly realized that men use them to refer to any woman: to call a woman whore or a piece of ass, for example, the man needn't know her or have had any personal contact with her. What I was actually collecting turned out to be part of the vocabulary of insult with which men express their perceptions of and thinking about who women are.

What I found in my analysis was the paradigm (or model) of the PUD [Patriarchal Universe of Discourse] concept, 'woman'. The paradigm itself is defined by at least three parameters, or semantic axes: COST, METHOD OF PAYMENT, and LENGTH OF CONTACT. Of these, COST and LENGTH OF CONTACT are continua rather than simple binary features. COST ranges from free to cheap to expensive, but, as the feature METHOD OF PAYMENT suggests, no man perceives consenting sex with a woman as "free"; the only question in his mind is how much it will cost him to get a woman into bed with him. A disc jockey, for example, having just played "Treat Her Like a Lady (and she'll be good to you)," said: "Yeah, treat her like a lady and maybe she'll give you a money-back guarantee." Lady, one of the more positive [+ female] words, means only that sex is expensive for the man. A woman who frequently engages in sex with different men without charging them is perceived as utterly stupid and worthless. Mothers warn their daughters, "Don't cheapen yourself," hoping to protect them from such harsh judgments. Sex and its cost are so thoroughly related in PUD that women and men both use the words slut, mattress, and sometimes whore as the worst insults that can be hurled at women. A woman who thinks so little of herself as to not get something in exchange for sex is perceived as pitiful, the lowest of the low.

LENGTH OF CONTACT is, like COST, a range of possibilities from "Actual Contact Irrelevant" to "Brief Sexual Contact" to "Extended" and "Extensive" sexual contact. These degrees of contact indicate whether the man has any contact at all with a woman and, if he does, how long that contact lasts. The names men call women who pass by them on the street, such as cunt, broad, bitch, nooky, require absolutely no contact whatsoever for their use. A man can call any woman one of these names. I defined "Brief Sexual Contact" as a "trick"' or "one-night stand,' and representative terms and phrases include tart, flapgap, tail, hooker, and painted lady. Only three words fell within the space labeled "Extended Contact": professional, prostitute, and entertainer. "Extensive Contact," in contrast to "Extended Contact," implies some sort of long-standing relationship, for example, concubine, courtesan, mistress, wife. The difference between a mistress and a wife is that the latter relationship is legally sanctioned. Palimony suits, however, which came into existence after l'd done my analysis, have made the line between wife and mistress fuzzy.

METHOD OF PAYMENT, the only binary feature for this semantic set, can be either "direct" (cash) or "indirect" (dinner, movies, jewelry, a concert, clothes, whatever the man thinks will achieve the results he wants). How much he spends, directly or indirectly, determines whether the word he uses comes from the "free/cheap" or "expensive" group.

Men define female human beings as "things" whose only reason for existing is to be fucked by them. In this PUD paradigm, three features are conceptually relevant: how much will he have to pay, what form will the payment take, and how much time (or, perhaps, accessibility) will his money buy? There is a fourth possible parameter, ACCESSIBILITY, but its boundaries aren't clear. Men assume that all women are accessible to them, that all women want men to fuck them. Men call women who declare themselves inaccessible to them dykes or lezzies, because no "real woman" would pass up a "good fuck." (And "all lesbians need anyway is a good fuck," which, in the world according to PUD, brings them back within the "accessible" range.) So most of the 200 terms I analyzed would carry the feature "accessible." Exceptions to this might be ballbuster, bitch, and hag, depending on the context in which they were used.)

-Julia Penelope, Speaking Freely: Unlearning the Lies of the Fathers’ Tongues

[shippymerch]

He’s available!! Shizuo Pudding Cup Charm preorder period just opened :3 I’ll be keeping the listing up for a little under two weeks.

Please read the product description and ensure you’re prepared for the shipping timeline 💕 The POs will help me decide how many of these I get made, so if you’re hoping to purchase in-hand, feel free to let me know so I can make sure I order enough!

Etsy:

My personal site:

Feel free to purchase from either! My personal shop is just cheaper because fewer fees.

Also, the biggest thank you to those who’ve purchased already 🥹🫶 Y’all make this merch possible 🙇🏻‍♀️

Last but not least, obligatory posting of the official light novel art that inspired this design ofc: