#It's that time of the year where I want to be soup.... Boiled like a lobster.....

[hai7ani]

Kaa-san stuck to you like glue the rest of the day. She watches over your shoulder as you fold laundry and iron her son's working clothes for Monday. She never speaks despite her almost-suffocating presence, but you know she just wants to watch.

When passing by the halls you'd sometimes catch her hovering outside of Ran's study as he works on his laptop. She flinches and scurries away when she sees you staring at her, but she'll come back to watch her son when she thinks you're busy again.

She finally speaks when you're decorating the nursery. "Does Rindou have a wife?" Her voice is small. She hasn't seen her youngest in a very long time, and you know she's asking because of a specific photo hanging off your wall 一 it was taken while you were skiing in Hokkaido, where Rindou has his arms around a girl, all smiley and nothing that she's ever seen on his face before, standing next to you and Ran.

"He has a girlfriend. They've been together for," you pause, thinking, "I think for almost two years now."

You find a few bottles of ginger tea hidden in your cabinets when she's asleep in the guest. Some of his plants are watered for the second time today and your fridge is stocked with mooncakes and other food he likes.

A pot of beef bone soup is boiling on the stove that she'd asked Ran to keep watch of. "Sorry, I just really don't know how to talk to her." He says to you by the sink, head resting on your shoulder as he rubs on your back gently. He thinks it's unfair to you that his mother has to be around.

"It's alright, you can take your time. It's not easy, but you can always try. She's still your mother at the end of the day. Nothing to be scared of." You try comforting him.

/

Kaa-san is gone the next day before he can even try. Her blankets are folded, his plants are watered (again), and her bags are gone.

Rindou calls his phone shortly after he awakes.

"There's brownies on my doorstep. Did you send it?"

"Where the hell can I find brownies at this hour? All the bakeries are closed already. Goddamn Rindou, he always likes these hard-to-find things. Should I just bake him one? Do you have cocoa powder at home?"

"Nah. Your Ma did."

link to rindou’s

Ran's mother shows up at your door unexpectedly on an early Saturday morning.

She wears knee supports and smells heavily of Chinese medication. "I'm staying with you for a few days." She makes herself comfortable on your couch, the bags in her hands thrown haphazardly by the door and he bends to hang it up by the rack.

"I called your brother before this and he didn't pick up. Still the same fucking child that he was." She sucks on her teeth. The mention of your brother-in-law makes your ears perk but Ran remains unmoved. He simply ushers for you to sit with one hand on the small of your back, giving you a silent nod.

"How far along are you?" She's quick with her questions today 一 you don't remember her being this talkative during the few occasions you've met with her. Her eyes don't tell you anything when they bore onto the bump of your belly. "I'm 30 weeks." You give her a genuine smile nonetheless, a hand rubbing gently on your stomach as you fix your posture.

Ran listens the entire time he's in the kitchen cutting up the last piece of mooncake you have. He's always liked eating mooncakes since you've started dating, which was a few years ago, and you know he's been deliberately keeping this one last piece for himself.

He still cuts it up for her anyway, because it's his mother's favourite too. Red bean flavoured, especially.

Ma really likes red bean flavoured things.

[warmspice]

there's a bone deep coldness within me that can only be soothed by being simmered in a stockpot for hours on end

[ssvnriseya]

IN TOO DEEP (D.D.)

summary - he wants more of you day by day as if he was being seduced by the forbidden fruit.

warnings - MDNI 18+ mentions of attempted rape, violence, language, dark!daryl, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), age gap ( reader is 18, daryl is 30. he has no weird feelings before she was 18 ), breeding kink, panty sniffing, intended lowercase (let me know if i missed anything)

request - keep a secret was amazing! i have a request for you, can you do a dark daryl fic set in prison era. where he keeps tabs on the reader, stalker stuff (steals her undies) and fucks her in prison showers. please include age gap (reader is 18, daryl is 30) and a breeding kink, please! - 🎀

note - okay, the characters deserve a happy ending at the prison, no one can change my mind!

masterlist

it was a hard year for you, you've lost too many people you cared about and gained more to care about.

your mother, lori, she died after giving birth to your baby sister. your little sister and brother were your angels.

they were the reason you still kept going, along with your dad, and the memories of your mom.

you had grown to care about the people of woodbury that now resided at your home, the prison.

whether it be the children, elders, teen, and adults. you absolutely love sasha, tyreese, and mika.

"hey, honey." carol smiled at you as she continued stirring the pot where all the people and your meals is being cooked.

"hey, carol. you didn't wake me up." you groaned at her as you walked to stand by her side.

"you were tired from the run yesterday, rick would kill me if i exhaust you too much." she smiled at you as she cut onions.

"i'll cut them." you smiled at her as you took the knife and chopping board.

"thank you. and i didn't wake you up because everything here is handled." she assured you.

it was early morning and no one was up yet, it gave you both the time to cook and chat freely.

"but, i woke up anyway." you teased her and nudged her as she stirred the pot and you chopped the onions.

"what are we having today?" you asked as you peered inside the bowl.

"just soup again with deer meat." she told you and you nodded, giggling.

"watery soup because we're lacking ingredients." you told her with a groan as you pour the onions in the soup.

"please, carol, remind me when i go on runs to pick up spices." you added.

"alright, young lady." she teased and you smiled, you both had been close ever since lori died.

she had been the mother figure, but not romantically to rick, she also stood as a mother to rick, if that was possible.

"who caught the deer? daryl again?" you asked as you frowned at the chopped meat.

"who else? he's our only hunter." she smiled at you, knowing that you utterly despised the man.

"okay, maybe i won't eat." you joked with a huff as you crossed your arms.

"then don'." someone told you from behind making you gasp in shock.

"daryl! don't sneak up on people like that!" you told him as you looked at him with disapproval.

"if ye' don't like m' deers, don't eat!" he sneered at you making you let out a small smile.

"okay, i won't." you told him and leaned in to carol, to gossip with her. daryl is in a fair distance.

you took over stirring and whispered something to her, "i'm fucking missing one again."

you groaned as you frowned, it was very hard to loose a pair of panties.

it was very hard to find one on runs and you will suddenly loose some?

"if one of the women are stealing them, it's very unhygienic." you shook your head.

"it would disappear only to appear two days or a day after, you'll get it back." she reassured you.

"what the fuck are they doing with my knickers?" you told aloud making daryl look at you.

you rolled your eyes at him and stared into the pot, it was boiling and the delicious smell of it was making you hungry.

your pride was high so you went right back into your cell block once the woodbury people came out into the courtyard.

it hadn't only been half an hour before daryl came knocking at your cell.

"ye' can eat, was jus' jokin'." he told you in a quiet voice, you smiled.

"okay!" you stood up from your bed and placed your book to the side.

you were never the first to apologize, if you knew you weren't in the biggest wrong.

"carol told you to apologize?" you smiled as you stood in front of him, he was a lot taller than you.

"nah." he responded and you nodded, smiling. you stepped out of the cell, brushing past him.

"i'll follow ye' back, 'm jus' gon' do somethin'." he told you with a nod.

you gave him a thumbs up before going down the stairs and out the cell block.

daryl waited for a few minutes before going into your cell, he went to your basket full of clothes.

he quickly placed the panty, that you were missing, back into the basket. he grabbed another one and stuffed it into his pocket.

he wasn't usually like this but you made him crazy, with you scent and the way you acted around him.

you despised him sometimes, yet you could tolerate him enough to flirt with him.

he hated how you made him feel, he wanted to stop what crazy shit he was even doing.

but the thing is, he can't, he's in too deep in the situation. he's fucking addicted to your natural smell.

he fucked your underwear every night, imagining that it was you. he absolutely loved those moments.

call him a creep and whatsoever but he's obsessed with you. so fucking obsessed.

he loved the smell and heat in the shower when he got in right after you finished bathing.

he loved your hair, the way it flows smoothly whenever you ran your fingers in them when frustrated.

don't get him started in your smile, he can fucking kill an entire herd if that means he gets to see you smile.

he loved your skin, your soft milky skin and how they easily turn red when being gripped to tight.

he wondered if he gripped your wrists to tight when he was fucking deep balls into you, would they leave a fucking bruise? he loved that idea, meaning everyone would see that someone fucked you that night.

he loved your body, every curve, every form of you from head to toe.

he went crazy on every teenagers from woodbury who even tried to go near you.

he did it in private, just to not have him scare you off. he almost killed for you, he would do anything just to protect you.

it was when you were on the road, right after the farm fell. you, maggie, glenn and daryl encountered a group of men when you were on the run for the group.

the men was obviously stuffed full, having the weapons and foods that you all were desperately trying to find.

they were obviously a whole lot bigger, not starved during the months that the whole apocalypse started.

glenn and daryl tried to talk to the men, in hopes of escaping the men.

they failed and two of them went to beat up glenn and daryl, making you pull out a gun.

it was a very ugly fight, glenn received a broken nose and multiple bruises in the face and stomach.

daryl was worse, he tried to punch back just to get to you, but to no avail it only made things worse.

that left two other men that was onto you and maggie, you fucking tried to fight him off, he was too big.

he tried to rape the both of you, and that made daryl see red, he was on full adrenaline that he fucking killed the four men single-handedly.

it ended with glenn almost passed out cold, you and maggie shaken up and lastly daryl who was still gritting his teeth in anger.

he fucking swore to himself not to let any other dirty men touch you for their own pleasure.

"daryl!" he was cut-off in his trance by a small voice calling out to him.

he stood up immediately from his crouched position and turned to face the door.

carl stood there with a smile on his face as he nodded at daryl.

"what are you doing here? anyways where is she?" carl asked, looking for you as he inspected the room-cell.

"out in the courtyard... ye' eat already?" daryl asked the little boy as he stepped out from your cell, closing the gate behind him.

"no, i was just going to call her so we could eat together." carl said in a small voice, he wanted to spend more time with you, he felt as if everything that's been happening has been pulling you away from him.

"let's go 'ere together." he put a hand on the little boy's shoulder, giving him a thin smile.

"she's probably eatin' with andrea and carol." he said referring to the older women you hung out with.

"yeah, i'll run so i can see sophia." carl told daryl as the little boy beamed.

"ya..." daryl nodded at carl, and the latter took it as a sign to ran out to the court yard.

when he arrived at the courtyard it was busy with people and their own conversations.

he looked for you and didn't see you, he was worried that maybe you were off with some boys.

he would definitely fucking beat the shit out of the boy who ever tried to take you from him.

his thoughts were proven wrong when a small bunch of people were by gate.

he immediately spotted your hair that made him crazy but not as much as you made him crazy.

he walked towards you with a frown, his frown falling and replaced with a small smile as he heard you laugh.

michonne was there, looking proud and almost eye-teary. you hugged her as you also sobbed with joy.

he was confused why but his smile also grew bigger once he saw what was inside the box that michonne brought back.

the head of the governor was sitting there, eyes in shock and lifeless.

they had spent months hunting for the governor and now they found him, they can finally breath in peace.

the governor looked dirty, his beard and moustache was grown, wildly. like he doesn't have a place to stay and clean himself up.

"we're free, daryl." you whispered to him and you also hugged him, cheeks stained in tears.

he pulled away and wiped your tears away, just like he's always wanted to do.

he looked behind michonne to find a small group of people. they looked relieved to see a sanctuary ahead of them.

"oh, this is the family i found with philip. they didn't know who he truly was, so i explained it all." michonne pointed to the three people standing at the corner.

you gave them a slight wave as you smiled at the little girl, "this is tara, lilly and her daughter, meghan." michonne added.

they smiled awkwardly and gave a little wave back, glancing at daryl, rick, michonne, carol and you.

"and this is eugene, he pretended to be a scientist who knows the cure to all but all is well, rosita, and abraham." michonne pointed to the other three standing at a fair distance from tara's family.

"hi!" you gave rosita, eugene and abraham a small smile and a wave.

you walked to stand beside your dad, wrapping your hand around his arms as he inspected the strangers.

"you sure they could be trusted?" rick looked at michonne, she nodded and glanced back at the six.

"alright." rick said with a smile at michonne, he trusted her and would listen to every thing she said.

"welcome to the group!" you greeted them cheerily, you went near meghan and took her small hands into yours.

"i'll take her to meet the kids." you told lilly and she nodded, she can't believe that there's a sanctuary for them to live in, for her daughter and sister to live in peacefully.

you walked with meghan, hand in hand as you took her to the field where the kids played.

"join them, okay? if anyone bullies you, tell me. i'll kick their ass." you smiled at the young girl.

you instantly warmed up to her innocent eyes and warm heart, listening to whatever she was told.

you turned around and jumped back, looking at daryl in shock as you held your hand to your chest to calm your breathing.

"you scared me, dixon!" you told him with a shark glare as you walked past him.

"ye' makin' threats to lil' kids now?" he joke half heartedly, you giggled.

"i like her, she's sweet." you told him with a small sigh as you walked side by side with him.

"wha' s'wrong?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows as he scanned your face.

"nothing, i just really wanted a baby before all this. they're cute and really sweet." you ranted as you puffed your cheeks.

"ye? baby?" he asked like he couldn't believe it, you pouted at him and rolled your eyes.

"sorry, was kiddin'." he told you with a small smile, you only frowned in response.

"yes... but it's hard, and i don't think i'm ready again as i was before. there's an apocalypse now and there's hardly anyone my age around here, and if there is... t—they just avoid me like plague!" you said with an unreadable emotion.

"who told ye' anything about boys yer' age?" he asked as he walked with you into the cell block.

"i don't get it..." you told him as you walked up the stairs and stopping right outside your cell.

you walked inside and he followed in suit, you smiled and gestured for him to sit on the bed.

"maybe ye' can try wit' someone younger or older." he said with a grunt.

"what are you suggesting, dixon?!" you teased him as you stopped pacing.

you wiggled your eyebrows at him when he started stuttering and turn a bit red.

"nothin' forget it." he told you and he stood up but you immediately were in front of him and held his shoulders to get him back to sitting.

"i was just teasing you, daryl. but, no kidding, i really should try with someone older?" you asked with pure innocence that daryl couldn't face.

"y—ya..." he stuttered and scratched the back of his neck as he looked at his lap.

"well, there's johnny, he's five years older." you told him as you sat beside him.

"nah... he's been wit' almost everyone 'ere." he told you as he shook his head.

"okay... i really need to take a bath, do you mind if we talk later?" you asked him as you stood up from the bed.

he shook his head and also stood up, "also got somethin' else t'do."

"okay, bye!" you waved at him and ushered him out of your cell.

you groaned and went to your clean basket, in search of clothes to wear in the sunny day.

you picked out your clothes and took a glance at the dirty pile.

your underwear, was already there. you picked it up carefully and examined it.

you dropped it with a groan, you had to get used to someone stealing your panties just to bring them back.

but it's creepy as fuck and totally unhygienic if they're wearing it or what ever.

you stood up from your crouched position, your towel and clothes in hand.

you walked out of your cell and closed it behind you, it was quiet inside as almost all of the people living in the cell block was outside.

it was a good time to shower, considering there's a population of a hundred in the prison.

it really was hard to shower with that many people, there were many showers but it looks like the time people wants to shower is whenever you wanted to.

you entered the room where a dozen of shower was, you and your original group shared this shower.

you didn't have to worry about peeping tom's or creepy men spying you.

you placed the towel on the hanging bar and your clothes on the table outside.

you stepped in, undressing yourself as you placed your dirty clothes on another rack.

the fucking cold water was refreshing, you really needed it, considering that it was a hot day in the prison.

you showered very quickly so your group can still have cold water, you felt bad because they've been spending all day in the sun ever since summer.

you pulled on your towel and wrapped it around your body, stepping out on the shower.

you went to the table and grabbed your clothes, going back inside the shower to change.

the clothes you wore were just a jeans short and a camisole, perfect wear for a sunny day.

besides you will be working on the fence today, so you still had to shower later.

work on the fence was exhausting, imagine that you will be standing outside for a few hours just killing walkers with the sun glaring down at you.

but it's worth it because by the end of the day there weren't walkers anymore by the fence.

and when you wake up the next morning there is walkers, and you kill them again.

that was your routine but sometimes you're on babysitting duty with beth, a girl just your age.

she was the sister of maggie, innocent just like you, just more shy and she's not as open-mouthed as you.

you stepped out of the shower again, dressed in clean clothes. you went to the rack that you found on a run a month ago and placed your towel there along with a few others.

an old lady was kind enough to stitch your name on the towel so it doesn't get mixed with the others.

it was a very sweet thing to do, she also was one of the elders you absolutely adore.

you went back to your cell and brushed your hair, it has grown longly, it wasn't the same mid-hair length when the apocalypse started.

instead it reached just above your butt, you smiled as you braided your hair and put little clips on it.

you shuffled on your make-shift drawer and looked for the sunscreen that thankfully michonne found on a run a week ago.

she found a full box of sunscreen and gave it to those who were on fence duty which was twenty people or so.

you don't get bored as much in fence duty when you had karen to gossip with.

she's always telling you how romantic tyreese is, how their dates always end with a sweet kiss.

it makes your heart flutter that your friend found love amidst all this.

you applied sunscreen on your exposed skin, you even went about thinking that you should just wear long-sleeves and pants.

karen would kill you, ranting about how you might faint again like you did once on fence duty.

it worried the hell out of everyone and you were on cooking and babysitting duty for a month after that.

you kind of don't want that to happen so you decided against it.

you placed the sunscreen back on your drawer and went out the cell, after slipping on your cowboy boots.

you walked past cell's when you heard grunts and moans in a particular cell you know too well.

you walked near it with cautious step, "daryl?" you asked him, you can't see anything because of the white sheet that covered the gate.

you opened the cell and found daryl flustered, "you okay, old man? are you having back pain?"

asking him was kind of you, considering you were starting to warm up to him.

"i can massage you if you want, i'll just skip fence duty." you offered to him as you walked by his bed.

your brows were furrowed in worry, he felt bad for making you worry when he was just jerking himself onto your underwear, smelling it like a creep.

"i do it all the time with dad, when he's having back problems." you explained as you sat beside him.

this was one of the reasons he fell for you, your kindness and no hesitation to help.

he didn't know why he started liking you when you all found the prison.

he hated himself at first, for falling for you who's almost half his age and you're most importantly, the daughter of a man he considered his best friend.

he felt sick but he can't do anything with it, his feelings for you grew deeper especially when the woodbury people arrived.

he didn't know what to tell rick. “hey man, i like your daughter.” was that what he's supposed to say?

"nah... 'm fine. ye' should go before yer' late f'fence duty." he told you.

you shrugged but nodded, "okay..." you st oppd up from his bed.

"if you feel sick, tell me." you smiled at him and went out of his cell, continuing your walk down the stairs.

it took a good minute before you were out of the cell block, you walked in the hallways before you managed to exit the prison.

"hi, karen..." you waved at the said woman and walked to approach her.

you also greeted tyreese who kissed his girlfriend good bye and waved back at you.

"that was a sweet kiss, i'm jealous." you teased her and then pouted, you wanted to experience loving someone.

beth have zack and she's your age, carl have sophia and they're younger than you! how was it fair?

you even asked rick if he would allow you to have a boyfriend over dinner the other night.

the rest of the group laughed while carol, michonne and andrea teased you.

you didn't notice how daryl's mood was down the whole night after that.

he wanted you to notice him, he tried to argue with you every chance he got just to have you notice him.

"you'll find them someday." karen knew what you were thinking and you gave her a small nod.

she handed you a sharp spear and you both walked to the fence where the other's are working now.

you worked for hours along side karen and by the time you were done, the sun was almost setting.

it made every sweat worth it because there's not a single walker in sight.

it was really a good setting, with the council and how they handled every thing.

you all were working to make the prison a home, the crops had grown and are ready to harvest every three weeks.

it was all because of the fertilizers you all try to find every run, and the pigs and chicken had more babies.

it was a good life and it would stay like that forever. you said goodbye to karen and placed the spear on the basket just outside the prison doors.

you went to your cell and picked out a set of sleepwear for a quick shower before dinner.

"hey, daryl... you going to shower too?" you asked when you met him down the stairs.

it's been a weird day, you've been seeing more of him ever since today.

you felt like you've seen him a lot more today that you ever did before the prison.

"mhm." was all he responded, you nodded and walked with him towards the bathroom.

"daryl, have you been talking to dad?" you asked him as you synced your footsteps with his.

"ya, why?" he asked as he glanced at your face, he quickly looked away.

"has he been doing better? maybe he wants to step-up again soon, the governor's gone now." you said lowly.

"he's yer' dad. why're ye' askin' me?" he groaned as he tried to not respond.

"we've all been busy, i don't even have time for them anymore." you said sadly, referring to your dad, carl, and judith.

"he's been better, improvin' since lori." he nodded, his southern accent thick.

"do you miss the people we've lost? like jacqui, mom, jim, and dale?" you asked him.

he shook his head, "they were never important t'me." he shrugged and you nodded.

"you must felt absolutely relieved when you found out merle's alive." you nudged him with your elbow.

you were happy for him that he's doing good with his brother, who was a jerk at first.

merle was starting to adjust to the prison and found a woman he love, he's in the council along with a few others.

"what about shane, ye' miss him?" daryl teased you, nodding to your words about merle.

"ew, no! he's a fucker." you groaned in disgust as you imagined the things he did to your family.

"did a number on ye' didn't he?" daryl smirked and you can feel your cheeks heat up just by his smirk.

"but i can't say that he shouldn't have done the things he did, 'cause jude wouldn't be here." you smiled sadly.

"ye' little ass-kicker is growin' fast." he shook his head with a smile.

"i heard that maggie is pregnant." you beamed at daryl, your eyes glinting with happiness at a new baby in the prison.

"ye', glenn told me earlier." daryl nodded, also happy for the couple since the farm.

you both stopped at the entrance of the bathroom, the sound of water droplets is the only thing that could be heard.

you looked at him as you bit your lip, analyzing his brows, his lashes, eye color, and his lips.

you gulped when he leaned in closer, you couldn't deny that sometimes there's that attraction for him deep down.

the attraction you kept hidden down in fear. he was a very closed off man, you were just scared of rejection.

how can you resist him? now that he's leaning in to place his lips onto yours.

you also can't deny that he's a very attractive man, with a shoulder that could make you swoon, and his arms that you wished to hold.

he has tattoos and you found them pretty and meaningful, he had a tattoo on his collar bone.

you didn't know what it meant but it's just a letter, a simple letter placed there.

it was an x.

you closed your eyes when you felt his lips touch yours gently, as if they were just tasting.

he tasted like cigarettes and booze. you can feel yourself getting drunk on his mouth.

you let out a small whimper when he squeezed your ass, he pulled away and took of his shirt.

he placed it on the laundry basket and kissed you again. you took a step back and he pulled the curtains out of the way to enter the bathroom.

"we shouldn't be doing this." you told him, pulling away as you shrugged of your own shirt.

"ya." he agreed and started attacking your neck, making you release small moans.

the clothes and towels you both had were left scattered on the table when you have thrown it.

he gently guided you, taking a step forward as you took a step back.

he guided you to the nearest room to shower, pressing your back against the wall.

he fumbled with your bra as you grabbed onto his hair, keeping your moans at bay.

you helped him slip it off, and he immediately attacked your breasts with kisses.

he turned on the shower and it made you smile at him as you got wet by the water.

you brushed your fingers through his hair, fixing it and moving it out of his face.

placing your hands on his neck, you leaned in and kissed him once again.

you can feel his erection on your stomach and that made you groan.

he held you by the waist and leaned down to meet your kisses as he was taller and bigger than you.

you slid off your panties slowly and you can feel the wetness on your thighs, not by the water but because of him.

he groaned as he rubbed your clit when his hands found it's way there.

you burried your face on his shoulder as you stopped yourself from moaning.

you heard the water stop running on the other stall and a few shuffle here and there.

and finally the moment you were waiting for, the shuffle of the curtains, indicating the person has left.

he lined the tip of his cock onto your entrance and you gripped his shoulders, you weren't sure if it would fit.

he pushed in with one deep thrust making you cry out in pain, you didn't expect him to be that rough.

he started thrusting in and out as you bit your lip you can taste the metallic taste in your tongue.

you moaned, as your hips met his desperately. all the pain was gone now and was replaced by bliss and pleasure.

"s'fuckin' tight, princess." he went deeper and faster with each thrust making you moan loudly.

you were scared to get caught but you couldn't stop the sinful moans that were leaving your mouth.

everyone was probably at dinner already.

you would be disgusted when someone told you that you'd be having sex with your dad's best friend a year ago.

it was so sinful, he was much older and also your dad's best friend, you want to stop but he felt so fucking good.

"daryl, mhm..." you moaned as he kept his thrusting, you can feel the tingling on your lower stomach.

a sense of sign that you were about to cum, it was quick but you can't help yourself.

he felt so good and it was too long ago that you've done this and felt pleasure, the only good thing was that this was better.

"i—i'm about to... c—cum." you moaned as you met his lips for a passionate kiss.

"cum 'round daddy's cock, baby." he groaned into your ear once you pulled away from the kiss.

he can feel your velvety walls clench around him, if he kept going on like this he would also cum.

"yer' so warm." he praised you making you whine, you were so turned on by the sound of your skin slapping together.

"i—I'm cumming." you informed him as you closed your eyes in pleasure.

stopping your hips from meeting his as you came. you moaned from the high feeling.

he kept thrusting into you with force, into your wet, tight and sensitive cunt.

"i'm gonna cum inside you." he looked into your eyes with a dark look.

you shook your head, "i—i'm not on birth control..." you whined as you shook from another orgasm.

"don't care." he shut you up by kissing you with much domination and force, he bit your lip and you pulled away.

"daryl... i—i'm not ready." you whimpered as you pushed on his shoulders.

he ignored you, "i'm gonna fill you up with my babies." he said once again, ignoring your total protests.

"you'd look so pretty carrying my babies." he kissed your jaw and sucked on your sweet spot.

you felt his cock twitch before he finished up inside you, you moaned.

"y-you came inside me!" you looked at him with anger as you unlatch yourself from him.

your legs giving out from intense orgasm, he held you to support you up.

"i love ye', we can have a happy family, you'll have a baby like you've always wanted." he assured you.

you shook your head as you wiped your tears, "w-what would dad say." you whisper to him as you pout.

"i'll worry about him, just be a good girl for me." he grabbed the shampoo as he put some on your hair, washing it for you.

"ye' feel good, so fuckin' good. better than yer' panties." he said with a smirk

you gasped and looked at him, there were a million questions running around your head.

"you're the one who's been stealing them?!" you asked in anger and embarrassment.

"hm, ye' smell so fuckin' good, baby." he praised you, making your cheeks hot again.

"that's embarrassing." you said in a small voice, looking away from him.

"i'll take care of ye' and in just a few months you'll have a baby bump." he kissed you once again.

you shivered and couldn't help but look at your stomach, caressing it.

you can feel his warm cum inside you, it was probably getting to work now.

it was too late for you to take pills, you felt like crying. you weren't ready for a baby, you were before, but you weren't sure now.

he promised to take care of you, he should. what if your dad gets angry if you tell him?

you can't bear the thought of your dad or carl ever being mad at you.

it would ruin you and you can't even think about the people at the prison, the people you love hating you because of your relationship with daryl.

"ye'll look good with m'babies, trust m'." daryl whispered to you, sucking on your neck.

what have you gotten yourself into?

[astonmartinii]

loving on a sunday | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x reader

y/n and lando, the grid and an honest attempt at a sunday roast

masterlist if you want to leave a tip x

yourusername

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 601,239 others

yourusername: warning !! do not own a nice country house and farm because you will get lumped with the annual post season grid dinner, SEB PLEASE COME BACK I CAN"T TAKE THIS RESPONSIBILITY @landonorris what are you going to do when they find out you can't cook?

view all comments

user1: learning that lando can't cook is the least surprising thing in the entire world

user2: i'm sorry post season grid dinner? brb just going to cry my eyes out why haven't we heard of this before

user3: for my mental health i need photographic evidence asap

landonorris: way to bait me out in front of the whole world, thanks babe

yourusername: i'm sorry but if this crashes and burns i need people to know that it was your fault (because it defo would be)

landonorris: where is the faith? you back me to win every race but won't back me to make some roast potatoes :(

yourusername: babe when i was sick you burnt the soup so bad we had to throw the pan out

landonorris: I TRIED I WAS STRESSED YOU WERE SICK

yourusername: awwww babe, but it was le crueset and literally cost more than my life

sebastianvettel: it's been an honour to host it but i know you and lando will do great, send me all the photos !

yourusername: thank you seb, please come visit the farm at some point xx

landonorris: see i knew seb would have faith in me thanks mate

user4: lando's gf being a farm girl makes so much sense but also no sense what so ever

yourusername: tis the south west babe it's either banksy or farmers and nothing in between

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, yourusername and 1,023,677 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: should be peeling potatoes right now she's too pretty

view all comments

user10: oh to be a kitty cat being cuddled by y/n

yourusername: you're such a smooth talker babe but those potatoes won't peel themselves

landonorris: my years of being teammates with carlos has come in clutch

yourusername: you still suck at flirting i just love you so i still swoon, any other person would probably laugh in your face

landonorris: gonna ignore the insult and focus on the fact that you love me

user11: i swear every time i see y/n she's with another animal i've never seen before

yourusername: my farm is a safe haven for any animal, if they find themselves there they'll leave with a full tummy and a good load of cuddles

maxverstappen1: if lando is on potato duty does this mean we won't get them? they're my favourite part of a roast y/n PLEASE STEP IN

landonorris: oh wow i see how it is

maxverstappen1: i'm dutch i'm so serious about my potatoes

landonorris: i also don't fuck around about roast potatoes HAVE FAITH

user12: can we start a petition for lando to stream this? like at least the cooking portion

yourusername: watching my nervous breakdown live would not be ethical

landonorris: it's true she threw a carrot at my head the first time she cooked for my family

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and 590,455 others

tagged: yourusername, landonorris

oscarpiastri: officially a farm boy for the week (also known as third wheeling for seven days)

view all comments

user15: omg oscar went early? my mclaren heart is so full

yourusername: so so happy to have you here osc!! though you're not any more trustworthy in the kitchen

oscarpiastri: i'd defend myself but we've all seen me fail to boil an egg

yourusername: you tried your best !! but you've mastered the english tea which is a massive asset

oscarpiastri: i think i'd lose my seat if i couldn't make a cup of tea

user16: obsessed with y/n dragging everyone for being menaces in the kitchen

user17: love how oscar was like: post lando? no. post ducks? yes.

landonorris: mate you asked to come early don't complain about third wheeling now

oscarpiastri: i know i asked to come early but if y'all could lay off the soft porn for two seconds would be appreciated

landonorris: don't pretend you don't enjoy it mate ;)

yourusername: lando don't be mean :(

landonorris: i'm sorry oscar, i'm sure you don't enjoy watching us be happy

oscarpiastri: thanks i guess?

charles_leclerc

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 1,034,560 others

charles_leclerc: sad to announce i've been banned from the kitchen:( even banned from making drinks as well

view all comments

user18: this is defo the banning i agree with, we all saw the vlog with the pesto pasta

user19: tbf i've come to the conclusion the one person y/n would let into the kitchen is seb

yourusername: you're not wrong

user20: i need a chick in my dungarees right now

yourusername: why are you complaining about a free pass to sit on the couch and have someone else cook for you?

charles_leclerc: well when you put it like that ....

landonorris: let me revoke all of my previous complaints

yourusername: you know i like to treat you baby

charles_leclerc: why thank you y/n but that's an inappropriate thing to say while in a relationship

yourusername: it was in reply to lando's comment charles 😭

landonorris: guy forgot he could read for a second

charles_leclerc: MY BAD

user21: i know charles didn't come to a farm in all white

yourusername: i regret to inform you he did (it's all designer as well)

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 702,340 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: sunday roasts are my love language, so happy to host the grid dinner with the love of my life

view all comments

user23: at first i thought she was being a bit too serious about this but that roast looks like it BANGS

user24: legit i need one asap

georgerussell63: carmen wants the recipe please and thank you

yourusername: bring her to the farm next time we're free and i'll teach her in person

carmenmundt: thank you darling

yourusername: anything for you

landonorris: ummm what about the guy you called the love of your life in the caption?

yourusername: i love you but i've tried to teach you to cook way too many times

user25: i'm sorry lando is so sexy

user26: forget lando, every pic i've seen of this house is the sexiest thing in the world

carlossainz55: thank you for hosting y/n and lando!! i had a great time see you on new years

yourusername: no worries chilli

maxverstappen1: the roast was the best thing i've ever eaten, i'll only dock points because i had to top and tail with daniel

yourusername: i didn't see you complain when i walked in on you guys cuddling

danielricciardo: you told me you loved it :(

maxverstappen1: i did !!! i enjoyed all of it, especially the roast though

landonorris: second to a roast @danielricciardo that's tough

landonorris

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,208,943 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: so honoured to host the grid dinner and take over from such an inspiration in seb!! but mostly thanks to y/n for hosting at her farm and putting together an amazing dinner and weekend - also thanks for not killing the grid, i defo would have

view all comments

user27: i would've given a kidney to be there for real

lewishamilton: thank you for having us and for the sick nut roast

yourusername: we love you and roscoe !! and vegans are always welcome on my farm

user28: ROSCOE WENT?

yukitsunoda0511: thank you y/n i no longer think that english food is an abomination

yourusername: wow thank you yuki, i knew it would be hard when your only exposure was ... milton keynes

landonorris: wow my girlfriend is a miracle worker, and you're welcome yuki san we loved having you

user29: watching lando go from rookie to hosting the grid dinner, i'm soft

oscarpiastri: i love it here i'm sorry you're not getting rid of me

yourusername: no worries osc, you can stay as long as you want

landonorris: no complaining about third wheeling though, you're basically our child now

user30: experienced racer and rookie teammate friendships are so special to ME

danielricciardo: glad i managed to get my seat back just for this roast tbf

landonorris: not cause you missed me?

danielricciardo: eh i guess so

yourusername: just let me know when you're in england and you can come over for another

[thatstomorrowsproblem]

DPxDC A Boy and His Pit Demon

Danny 

The world was green, green, green. Green beans, bean soup, Soup Time. Soupy, soupy Soup Time. 

Would Soup Time hurt now? 

Most things hurt now, because he was broken, broken, broken, but not the green. Green, green, green. 

Green isle, green sky, green eye, green soup. 

He paused. 

Green, green soup. He liked green, and he liked soup, but maybe he didn’t like green soup. 

“No eggs, just soup. I am not Sam, I am not.” He giggled quietly at the thought of amethyst eyes encircled with black and purple paint and approached the lake of green. 

It smelled like Soup had been left out in the sun to rot.

“Hot rot, hot rot.”  

He laid a clawed hand over his icy chest. Food was mean. Sometimes, food fought back. 

Food fights, fighting food, union fight, fighting Soup? Hot-rot green soup. 

He was so hungry, but hot was bad.  

Ice core, hot sore, hot-rot soup. 

He was already so broken, broken, broken, and green was good. 

The hot-rot soup was hot, and he was ice, but it wasn’t fighting back, and it might be nice. 

What did he have to lose? Lost friends, lost home, lost mind, lost all, found Soup. 

He liked green. 

He hummed happily before diving headfirst into a pit of rancid, fetid ectoplasm leaving the Infinite Realms behind. 

Damian 

Damian was nine years old, but that wouldn’t stop him from being the best the League had ever seen. 

He was almost there already, of course. 

He’d even won a fight against his mother once.  

Of course, Damian had set many traps on the battlefield in advance, but it was only proper to use every tool that one had on hand. 

Damian moved smoothly through his training stances, clearing his mind of all thoughts except executing his actions flawlessly. 

He had perfected them years ago, of course. He was not a baby, and he’d been practicing with the blade since he was four. It was important to keep all of your weapons, sharp, however, and ones own skills are the most valuable weapons. 

He often practiced near his grandfather’s pools.  

It was a place where few had permission to go unless accompanying his grandfather, after all, and the soft green glow was pleasant to be near. 

It could be dangerous, of course, but Damian was not so foolish as to risk falling in while healthy. 

A sound caught Damian’s attention, breaking him out of his fluid routine. 

His head whipped towards the Lazarus Waters which had begin to froth and bubble violently. 

Damian had never seen such a reaction before, but he’d heard from others what it meant. 

Rarely, perhaps once every five decades or so, a demon would rise from the pits. 

There was nothing even the best trained assassin could do against them. 

They were strong, fast, unkillable, and the only thing you could do if one set its sights on you was pray for a quick death. 

Damian straightened his spine and squared his shoulders, readying his blade. If he were to die, he would do so with his pride and strength in place. 

He only had to wait a few moments before a nightmarish head rose from the boiling pool. 

It was blacker than night, seeming to suck the luminescence from the waters around it. Its eyes were slitted, with sclera the same toxic green as the pool’s waters. Its mouth was a nightmare of serrated fangs bared in the parody of a smile. 

Damian raised his chin defiantly to death. “You do not belong here. These are my grandfather’s pools.” 

The demon’s head tilted far past what any human would be capable of, and it let out a low, static-filled hiss. “Hungry, hungry. Play, play?” 

Damian gritted his teeth. He had never heard of a pit demon ever speaking before, and the thought of it wanting to play with its food before it ate him brought him nothing but anger. 

If he were to die, he was going to do so with dignity. 

Damian sniffed. “No. One does not play with their food.” 

The creature let out another awful sound like lightning or a windstorm before its gruesome maw stretched even wider. “Fight food.” 

Damian took a deep breath before he let it our slowly and pointed his sword at the creature. “Then let us fight.” 

The creature rose slowly from the water, revealing a small, thin body, but Damian knew that size mattered little when it came to the power of a pit demon.  

It was almost human in the same way that his mother could be called almost nice. 

It had a head, a body, two arms, and two legs. 

However, its limbs were too long. Each of its hands had five skeletal fingers each ending in a razor-sharp blade. Its thin legs had an extra joint, and its stance hurt Damian’s spine just to look at as it floated above the pool dripping toxic water that could kill or poison the living. 

“Fight,” it growled in a voice filled with the cackle of a broken League communicator. 

It did not try and dodge or evade as it spend towards him, claws outstretched, and Damian thought he might get at least one good hit in before he died. 

Damian’s blow struck true, right at the demon’s center of mass, but it didn’t slow its momentum in the slightest, and Damian barely had time to get out of its reach before its claws could impale him. 

He spun quickly, keeping the creature in his sights as it turned on the ground, back arching like a cat about to pounce. 

There was no wound where Damian’s blade had struck, only smooth black skin, darker than night. 

Damian growled. 

It was still playing with him. Still making a fool of Damian, even in his last moments of life. 

Damian shrieked, darting forward and aiming a blade at the pit demon’s heels. 

If he could injure it somewhere delicate, maybe it would retreat back into the waters. 

The monster laughed, unnaturally twisting its legs out of reach and back into the air without a thought for the limitations of gravity or basic anatomy. 

Damian pivoted, slicing upwards at the beast’s exposed face, but the being only caught the sword in its bare hand. 

Damian had a solid grip on his sword. 

One of the first things he’d learned, mastered before the age of five, was how to keep a firm grip on his weapon while maintaining enough flexibility for rapid movement. 

The moment the creature wrapped his hand around the weapon, however, it was as if his favorite blade was as insubstantial as a cloud, and it went through Damian’s hand in an instant. 

The demon laughed its monstrous laugh again, tossing the beautifully forged custom blade behind itself as if it were a common stick. 

Damian knew he would die from the second he’d seen the pit demon emerge, but it was worse to know how insignificant of a threat he posed. 

With a flick of his wrist, he unsheathed and threw a poisoned dagger at the creature. It whizzed between its eyes, and the creature turned its sharp smile to watch the blade sail away. 

It wasn’t fair! 

The creature dropped to the ground in front of Damian, assuming the deplorable fighting stance of a seasoned street brawler, and Damian brought his own fists up at the ready. 

If this monster was going to toy with him like a cat with a mouse, if it liked to play with its food, Damian would be sure to win at least one game. 

The pit demon was even smaller on the ground, barely reaching Damian’s own chest, and Damian grinned savagely. 

He never got the chance to fight someone smaller than himself. 

In a quick movement, Damian darted forward, aiming a blow at the demon’s shoulder. 

Damian wasn’t sure what surprised him more, the fact that his attack had landed, or the fact that the creature hadn’t moved a single centimeter from the force. 

Damian ignored the stinging in his fist and decided to count it as a win. He’d never heard of anyone ever landing even a glancing blow against a pit demon, not even when a dozen of Grandfather’s best had been fighting one together. 

The demon threw a half-trained punch at Damian, and he stepped to the side to grab its wrist, hoping he could use the momentum against it and throw it to the ground, but his hand passed through the creatures arm as if it wasn’t there at all. 

With the distraction, Damian almost didn’t notice its other hand whipping out, and Damian could do nothing as the monster hit his diaphragm with enough force to knock the air from his lungs and send him tumbling backward to the ground. 

He heaved in a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the killing blow to land. 

He had fought well and landed a hit against the untouchable. 

A soft weight settled against his chest, and Damian’s eyes flew open. 

The pit demon had settled on top of his chest. “Brave, brave, boy. Fights well, so young. Good fight.” 

Damian shuttered at the being's sharp fangs so close to him, but tried to take pride in knowing that even a true pit demon thought him a worthy fighter. 

His mother and grandfather might never know, but Damian knew that he had done his position as Heir to the Demon proud. 

The creature moved its face toward Damian’s exposed throat, and he prayed for a swift death. 

The creature nuzzled the underside of his chin before growing limp and beginning to hum softly. 

Damian froze in confusion. 

The pit demon’s mass shifted, black body becoming almost like a liquid as it pooled around his neck and over his chest. “Good boy, good fight, like boy.” 

Damian knew he shouldn’t provoke the pit demon. He knew that. However, he had already played the monster’s game and wouldn’t sit passively until it decided it was ready. 

That was one indignity too far. 

“Are you not going to eat me now?” 

“Eat!” The pit demon screeched, purring hum coming to a sudden stop. “Fight food, fight boy, eat food, like boy. Boy fight, I fight, like boy, eat soup.” 

Damian swallowed. The pit demon spoke English, and Damian was fluent in the language. He was not as sure that the pit demon was fluent, however, with how little sense it was making. 

“In return for sparing my life, you would like soup?” Damian tried, furrowing his eyebrows. 

A hand reemerged from the black mass that was the pit demon, and a clawed finger pointed at the Lazarus Waters. “Ate Soup, green Soup. Sam I am not.” 

Damian didn’t know how not being named Samuel was related to drinking Lazarus Waters, but that was irrelevant to the small, absurd hope rising in his chest. “You are satiated after consuming my grandfather’s… soup, and you have no plans on eating me?” 

The demon wheezed out another crackling laugh and patted his cheek. “Funny boy, funny soup, like boy, keep boy.” 

Its sharp hand melted back into its body, and it resumed purring. 

Damian’s mind raced at the implications. 

He had fought a pit demon, he had landed a blow and impressed the creature, and it seemed that it planned on staying. 

Damian had– He had been the first to impress a demon with his fighting prowess, and he seemed to have won its loyalty. 

He had always known he was destined for greatness, of course, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined this as a possibility. 

Damian laid a hand carefully on top of the purring monster on his chest. “If you are not Samuel, then what may I call you?” 

The demon rumbled and hummed, pressing itself into Damian’s hand. “I am P4NT0M, I am Dan, I am not Dan. I am Phantom. I am Danny.” 

Damian wrinkled his nose. Most of those names were unacceptable, but he supposed that he could make due. “Phantom, then. Welcome to Nanda Parbat. I am Damian al Ghul, grandson of Ra's al Ghul.” 

The creature purred more loudly, and Damian ran a hand along the monster’s cold brow. 

Damian grinned and sat up, cradling the black purring mass against his chest. 

He was Damian al Ghul, first of the League of Assassins to ever earn the respect of a Pit Demon. 

He would also be the first to tame a pit demon. 

[miasmaghoul]

Dessert First

Kinktober '24: Day 1 - Foreplay

Pairing: Swiss/Cumulus

Rating: E

W/C: ~1.8k

Contains: flirting, intentionally cheesy and mostly food-based banter, making out, groping, heavy petting, fingering without penetration, (Cumulus has a big clit pass it on)

Huge shoutout to @kroas-adtam for this year's prompts!

“You're so fuckin’ pretty.”

Cumulus blinks, leans back to look out the hotel bathroom door with a raised eyebrow. Swiss grins at her, offers a wink and a little finger wave. He's laid out on his side on the bed closest to her, head propped up on one hand, the picture of relaxation in a pair of worn flannel pants and nothing else. Cumulus looks at her reflection in the wall-sized mirror; she's fresh from a too-hot shower, face still flushed and curls pulled up into the messiest approximation of a bun she could manage. Dressed in an old pair of Aether's boxers and an oversized tee, toothbrush still in her mouth, she can't imagine pretty is the word for her right now. She gives him a soft snort as toothpaste dribbles down her chin, but Swiss doesn't seem put out in the least. 

“I mean it,” he assures as she spits into the sink, rinsing with a handful of water. She hears the mattress creak, the dull thud of footsteps on low-pile carpet, and as she straightens up strong arms loop around her waist. “You're gorgeous, Lu.” Swiss plants a kiss on top of her head before resting his chin there, smiles at their reflection, and it's so infectious that Cumulus finds herself smirking too.

Read the rest below, or on AO3!

“Sweet talker,” she accuses, and Swiss doesn't even try to deny it. She sighs, letting her head rest against his broad chest. Breathes in the fading aroma of his spicy cologne and the lingering remnants of the joint they'd shared before her shower. A moment of quiet peace, interrupted only by the distant hum of the air conditioner. 

A moment is all she gets, of course - this is Swiss, after all. It's no surprise that his hands go from holding to fondling, a broad palm pressing into the softness of her belly and skilled fingers teasing the curve of her hip. Cumulus gives the back of one hand a gentle smack, rolls her eyes as she goes back to brushing her teeth. 

Swiss, never one to be dissuaded, occupies himself with the self-imposed task of feeling up every inch of her he can reach. Her stomach and hips, her thick thighs and unbound breasts. They may sag without a bra, but she's yet to have any complaints. Least of all from the ghoul at her back, whose half-chub is currently pressed up against the cleft of her ass while he cups her tits through her shirt. 

“So warm,” he muses, stubble grazing her throat when he leans down to kiss behind her ear. “Startin’ to think I should've joined you after all.” Cumulus rinses one more time, shaking off her toothbrush and tucking it into its case as Swiss casually rolls her stiffening nipples between his fingers. 

“It's not my fault you couldn't take the heat,” the ghoulette smirks, reaching for her nightly facial moisturizer. “You know it's boiling or nothing.”

Cumulus gasps as she squeezes some cream onto her palm, a response to Swiss dragging the tip of his tongue down her throat. He follows it with a nip to the spot where it meets her shoulder, and Cumulus shivers as she applies her lotion. 

“‘Scuse me for not wanting to turn to soup.” Swiss tucks a finger into the collar of her tee, tugging it to the side to trail kisses down to her shoulder and back again. He presses his nose to her skin, taking a deep inhale. “You smell like…what is that, cupcakes?”

“Vanilla, coconut and shea butter,” Cumulus corrects, but Swiss isn't exactly wrong. She knows she smells good enough to eat - insists on it always - and judging by the way Swiss throbs when he sniffs at her, he agrees. The ghoulette snorts. “Y’know," she teases, wiggling her ass just because she can, "you're awfully hard for a guy who said he'd be asleep before I even got soaped up.”

Swiss grunts, gives her nipples a pair of firm plucks that make Cumulus gasp. 

“Can you blame me when you look like this?” 

One hand remains on her breast, but the other moves to rub slow circles into her belly. It drags her shirt up, exposes pale skin decorated with the prettiest stretch marks. His fingers slip under the fabric to trace a pair of them, ticklish, soft flesh twitching under his touch. Cumulus bites the inside of her cheek to hold in the sound that tries to escape her, resting back against his chest with a soft sigh. 

“I bet you say that to all the ghouls.”

Swiss smiles at her in the mirror, cheeks dimpled

“You callin’ me easy?” 

She flashes him a grin, tongue poking between gapped teeth, and a quick burst of want flows through her pelvis.

“No, I'm calling you a slut!”

Swiss gives her the most offended look, but it's betrayed by the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. It's a shimmer the ghoulette is all too familiar with, and with a giggle Cumulus reaches up to poke him in the cheek. 

“C'mon, playboy,” she coos, “it's past our bedtime.”

The ghoulette squeals when, with unnatural speed, Swiss’ groping hands move to spin her around at the waist and hoist her up onto the vanity. He spreads her thighs and crowds in close, Cumulus’ tired eyes going wide as toiletries fall over all around her. Swiss plants his palms on the countertop, leans in until they're nose to nose, and when he licks his lips it's the ghoulette's turn to throb. 

“What about my midnight snack?” 

Rough fingertips find her leg, drag over the exposed skin of her knee and along her plush inner thigh. Swiss’ eyes never leave hers as he slides them upward, digits disappearing into the leg of her boxers. 

“Don't want me to go to bed hungry, do you?” He leans in closer, until she can smell the weed on his breath. “Cupcake?”

Swiss winks, clicks his tongue, and Cumulus’ eyes flutter when his probing touch finally reaches her most tender of places. A single finger teases her folds, Swiss’ cock visibly flexing in his pajama pants when he finds the beginnings of slickness there. The ghoulette lets her shoulders sag, reaching up to get small, soft hands on his chest. 

“Cupcake, huh?” 

Cumulus’ mouth curls up at one corner as her fingers glide through his chest hair. Manicured nails scratch over muscled shoulders until she can cross her arms around Swiss’ neck, and the ghoulette's lips part when he circles her clit with the tip of that slippery digit. They're so close now, Swiss’ mustache tickling her upper lip with every passing breath. His other hand moves to caress her cheek, knuckles tracing the soft line of her jaw, and Cumulus licks at one when it follows the curve of her lower lip. She lets her legs fall further apart, gives Swiss space to slip a second exploratory finger between long lips, and the pair of them groan when her clit twitches.

“Well, you have been a good boy tonight,” she lilts, low, and a dark spot blooms near Swiss’ waistband. “I suppose you deserve a treat.” 

The ghoulette closes the gap between them, and Swiss has his tongue in her mouth before their lips even meet. Not that she minds, of course - it's easier to suck on that way. 

She loves when Swiss gets like this; it's slow and decadent, messy in the best way. Cumulus hooks a leg around his hip and the ghoul groans into her mouth, oh-so-gently pinching her clit. She shivers with every touch, dragging her nails across his shoulders until she can get both hands in Swiss' hair.  

All the while, Swiss’ probing fingers grow slicker and slicker. He doesn't slip them inside, not yet - just takes his time petting from her clit to her pucker and back again until every part of her swollen sex slips through his fingers with no resistance. Only then does he break the kiss, still holding her face, a string of saliva stretching between their reddened lips. 

“You're so wet,” Swiss rasps, as though she can't hear the evidence of that herself. Can't feel the dampness soaking into her boxers, no doubt leaving a sticky spot on the stone counter below. Cumulus huffs, leans in to give his lip a tug with blunt teeth. 

“Of course,” she trills. “The best part of a cupcake is always the frosting.”

She's sure that the way Swiss drools and humps the edge of the counter is involuntary, but it still makes her stomach swoop. 

“Oh yeah,” he agrees, voice gone thick. “Can never have enough, myself.”

The very tip of one digit teases her entrance, and Cumulus lets out a soft oh. 

“Sometimes I just eat it with my fingers.”

The ghoulette sighs when Swiss pulls his hand away entirely, dragging the backs of his fingers along her thigh and leaving a shiny trail behind. He holds them up to the light, stretches her slick between them, and Swiss’ eyes roll back when he licks them clean. 

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he moans, unabashed, and if Cumulus wasn't wet before, well…

“Plenty more where that came from, sugar,” the ghoulette breathes, buzzing all over. “You shouldn't let it go to waste.” 

Swiss doesn't need to be told twice. In no time he's gotten her out of those boxers and dragged her ass to the edge of the counter, kneeling before her with those glorious thighs hugging his ears. The ghoul looks up at her with dark, hungry eyes, and her fat clit pulses.

“Go on, baby,” she murmurs, sinking her fingers back into his tight curls. Cumulus’ other hand wanders up her shirt, finds a taut nipple to play with as Swiss reaches around her legs to spread her open with both thumbs. “Do a good job and maybe I'll let you turn me into a Twinkie instead.” 

She winks, Swiss’ entire body spasms, and with a deep, deep groan he sinks his teeth into the meat of her thigh. Sucks in a mark that she can already tell will be the loveliest shade of purple come morning. He laves at the dents his teeth leave behind, staring only at the place she's gone all pink and puffy. Her clit stands at attention, so stiff the hood has slid back nearly all the way.

“If you do,” Swiss rumbles, kissing up to the crease of her hip, gaze heavy, “then I can lick out the cream filling.” 

The ghoul’s golden eyes flash, and Cumulus throbs hard when his unglamoured tongue rolls from his mouth. He drags it through the damp curls surrounding her twitching length - so big and excited now that Swiss could probably suck it like a cock if she asked him to - and when the forked tip of that devilish tongue grazes the base it throbs so hard her thighs shake. Cumulus sags back against the mirror, crosses her ankles behind Swiss’ back, and gives him her darkest eyes and sweetest smile. 

“Only if you promise to feed it to me after.”

[morganski-19]

The One with the Cold

Robin walks out of her bedroom to find Steve wrapped in a blanket on the couch. Face down in the pillows.

“Robs, I’m dying.”

“You just have a cold, calm down.”

“Then why am I dying.” He rolls over with a groan, pouting at Robin.

She crosses her arms. “I don’t know what you want from me. You’re the one who decided to work with germ ridden six-year-olds.”

He lets out a long sigh. “I know.”

“Like seriously, I’m surprised you don’t get sick more. You practically get sneezed on daily.”

“I have a strong immune system.”

Robin glares at him.

“Normally. I normally have a strong immune system.”

Robin takes her hand and places it on his forehead. He’s slightly warm. “On a scale of dying to dead, how sick are you?”

“Just regular dying.”

She goes to the bathroom to get the thermometer out of the first aid kit. Putting it in his mouth, she walks away to get a glass of water and some cold medicine. When the thermometer beeps, she looks at it and hands him the pills.

“Just a slight fever, it should be fine. Want some tea or something?”

“Tea would be nice,” Steve says as he retreats back under the blanket.

Robin finds the empty tea box in the cabinet, cursing Steve for leaving it in there. If he wasn’t sick, she’d let him hear it. It’s a bad habit of his. She lets him know that she’s running across the hall to see if they have any.

Nancy’s door is unlocked, like it normally is. She opens it to find Nancy walking around the apartment with cleaning wipes in her hand. Scrubbing at the remotes and surfaces.

“Yours too?” Robin groans.

Nancy turns to her with an annoyed face. “Well, now I know where he got it from. Steve being a giant baby over it too?”

“What do you think? Came over to see if you had any tea, we’re out.”

Nancy throws out the wipe in her hand, placing the container on the counter. “We should, but Eddie always puts the empty boxes back on the shelf.”

“Wow, they were really made for each other,” Robin jokes. “If only they would do something about it.”

Nancy hands Robin a tea bag. “Maybe lay off the teasing for now, Eddie’s claiming he’s dead.”

Robin huffs. “That’s worse than Steve. He’s just regular dying. Do you happen to have a can of soup I can borrow too. I know we don’t have any.”

“Probably.” Nancy roots around in a separate cabinet, pulling out a can of chicken noodle soup. “Here. I just hope I don’t get sick because of this. I can’t miss work this week.”

“I mean, you just sanitized the entire apartment. And probably barred him to his room. You’ll be fine.”

Nancy knocks three times on the table. “Just in case.”

Robin heads back to her apartment after thanking Nancy for the food. “Guess who else your grubby kids got sick. Eddie. But he’s either more dramatic than you are or generally worse. He’s claiming he’s dead. Nancy’s busy cleaning so she doesn’t get sick either.”

She’s cut off when a choked snore comes from the couch. Robin laughs to herself, taking the kettle off the stove before it starts boiling. He won’t be awake for a while anyway. She grabs a book from her room and sits on the armchair, waiting for him to wake up.

It’s a few hours before he does. And the only real reason he wakes up is because he can’t breathe out of his nose anymore. Robin gets him more of the cold meds as he sits up. Shivering as the blanket falls off his shoulders. She actually makes the tea this time.

“Thank you,” he whispers when she hands it to him. Wincing when he burns his tongue.

“I just made that, dingus, it’s going to be hot.”

He shoots her a half-baked glare. “Can’t you save the insults for when I don’t feel like shit.”

Robin smiles. “Nope.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug, @estrellami-1

[lady-of-tearshed]

Precious times

Summary: You had never met Azriel's mother. You never dared to ask to come with him when he's visiting her. You discretly test the waters of this subject with him.

Words count: 1.7k

Warnings: slight angst, talking of Parkinson disease, mention of slight injuries

A/N: At your demand... here you go :)💕 I felt like being productive today, so a Azriel fic out, AND I'm going to go feed your deers @thehighladywrites 🤣

The raw weather of Velaris winters engulfed your house briefly when your mate walked into your home. He took off his flying leathers in peaceful silence, as usual. The usual thud of his boots as he puts them down on the carpet announcing the end of his arrival routine. You smile as he gently wraps his arms around your hips, his chest pressed tightly onto your back as you are cooking dinner. He hummed and kissed your jaw softly, his cold lips brushing against your skin making you shiver. He giggles “I missed you today.”

“You always do, handsome.” You smile and slightly turn your head to him so you can kiss him. He kisses you back quickly before slightly pulling back as a smell hits his nose. He doesn’t say a word as you keep stirring the soup boiling in the cauldron and his eyes scan the kitchen. He spots a familiar book spread open on the countertop beside you. “Where did you find this..?” He whispers and frowns his eyes at you.

One thing you knew about the spymaster is that he hated when you were snooping around his stuff. Not that he had things to hide from you, simply there were things he wasn’t ready yet to talk about. “Oh, found this when I placed your folded laundry into your drawer. I thought a recipe from your mother’s cooking book would make you happy.” 

He tenses slightly, then rests his head on your shoulder. “It does, love. It does… Thank you.”

The both of you stay in silence as you keep following the recipe written in his mother’s handwriting. You had never met her since you and Azriel got together. You knew he visited her every year around Solstice, and on special occasions, but he had never offered you to join him. And you knew better than to push him into something. It would only make him shut up like an oyster. 

“Are you going to visit her at Rosehall soon? Solstice is coming.” You start off carefully. He simply nods, his nose snuggled in the curve of your neck.

“I’ve never met her before.” You simply state, testing the waters. He hesitates for a while, then speaks up. “Do you wish to?” 

You spin around and narrow your eyes “Why wouldn’t I? She’s your mother. The one that raised you to the man you are today.”  You smile softly and turn off the oven. You caress his cheek, feeling that there was something more he wasn’t telling you about this topic. 

He bites his tongue, and sighs, trying to release some tension from his knotted stomach. 

“It’s… a bit complicated. She has a disease. neuro-degenerative disease. Parkinson.” He states and places his hand on the one caressing his cheek.

You had never seen him on the verge of tears as he is now. “She can barely talk now, I don’t think you would like to meet her like that-” “Azriel… I just want to meet her and thank her, for you. She seems like such an amazing person…” “She looks just like you.” He admits, his voice shaky. He forces a smile and kisses your lips tenderly. He then whispers against your lips.  “Next week. I’ll bring you with me next week, so we can celebrate Solstice all together.” 

—

You had spent all week wandering around Velaris marketplace with Feyre, digging for the best gift for Azriel’s mother. You had settled your choice on a photo of you and Azriel on the day of your mating ceremony placed in a sculpted silver frame. You had bought her a set of blue sapphire earrings, matching Azriel’s siphons. You were anxiously looking down at the gift in your hands as your lover walked into your shared bedroom. “Love… I don’t want to put pressure on you…” “No, I want to go, Az, really. I just… I want to make a good impression on her.” I want to be good enough for you… 

He lifts your chin up between his fingers and brushes a strand of hair behind your pointed ear. “You don’t have to prove anything. Be yourself, you are perfect in every way, love. I love you. And… she already loves you…” He mutters, red painting his cheeks. 

“You talked about me?” You give him a teasing grin. He grabs you by the hips and leads you towards the balcony, ready for take-off. “A little. Ready?” He says before taking off abruptly, making you shriek and giggle as he holds you close to his chest, his body warm enough to block out the cold winter wind.

—

Rosehall was a lot smaller than what you imagined. A little cottage covered in vines and thorns. It must be an even more beautiful place in hot summer weather, when the roses are blooming on the residence walls and archway. 

When he walks inside the house, Azriel is immediately alerted by the nurses's voices coming from his mother's room. He quickly lets go of your hand but before he goes inside the room, a maid stops him gently. 

“What is it?! What’s wrong with her?!” He suddenly hears a slight groan of pain coming from behind the door the maid was preventing him from passing. “Stop it. You’re hurting her.” He snarls, his siphons glimmering and shadows covering his feet, ready to burst. 

“No, they’re healing her, Azriel.” The old maid, probably familiar with Azriel's protective nature over his mother at this point. You walk slowly towards your mate and place a comforting hand on his tensed shoulder. The nurse takes a softer tone when she notices the anger slightly vanishing from his hazel eyes with only your touch. “Her health is slowly deteriorating. She’s having to develop end-stage symptoms. Her coordination isn’t the best anymore, she’s having a lot of muscle rigidity and even her voice has started to change… We tried to write you a letter, Sir.” 

Azriel’s jaw clenches, and his fingers slightly twitch at the maid's words. An overflowing feeling of shame and self-loathing runs through the bond, making you feel it as if it were your own. Azriel had been busier than ever the past month, and there were piles of unread letters on his desks. The missive from Rosehall about his mother’s health had probably gotten lost in the piles of work on his desk. You squeeze your boyfriend’s hand, it wasn't his fault. 

Before you can tell him comforting words, the nurses come out of the room and smile politely at Azriel “Is she okay?” He asks. “She’s comfortable now. She has a light bruise on her hip, but nothing alarming.” The nurses smile and leave with Azriel's nod of dismissal, the maid moving to let him in.

The sight of the woman lying in bed almost struck you in place, if it wasn't for your mate’s hand pulling you inside. She was exactly like him. The same long eyelashes fluttering in front of the most beautiful shade of hazel eyes you had ever seen, except Azriel’s, those high cheekbones, that sharp jawline, and this smooth tan skin. It was literally how you had imagined her. Her son was definitely the exact perfect portrait of his mother. 

Azriel’s mother's eyes seem to light up, chasing those heavy clouds of tiredness from them, when she sees you moving from behind him. “Eve.” She tries to smile at you, barely able to do so, the muscles from her face tightly and painfully tensed up. 

Azriel sits beside his mother on the bed and kisses her cheek. He pulls you down on the end of the ridiculously large bed and squeezes your hand lightly. 

“Mother, this is Eve.” “The Eve.” She cuts him off, her voice strangely monotone, due to her sickness. Azriel chuckles, “Yes, mother. The Eve… And Eve, this is my mother, Ymir.”

Your heart swells with happiness when you realize how much your boyfriend must be talking about you if his mother considers you as ‘The Eve’. The three of you take the rest of the night easy, exchanging gifts and talking about mostly everything. It’s mostly you and Azriel doing the talking, as Ymir wasn’t feeling all too well. But you didn’t mind at all.

As it was getting quite late, and Ymir was starting to get tired after today’s events, she asked Azriel to tuck her in and play her a song on the big piano placed in the center of the room. A small smile lingers on your lips as you stand next to your mate on the piano seat. His fingers dance on the tiles as he plays a relaxing and comforting song, a song he had probably played thousands of times before, considering the fluidity and accuracy of his notes. As the song finishes he stands up and goes to kiss her forehead, his mother already deeply asleep. 

The both of you quietly make your way out of the house, and you feel the shields your mate had put up, without you even noticing, crumbling down when the front door closes. Tears start falling down his face, just like the snow from the night sky. You hug him tightly into your arms as he silently cries into your neck, his shoulders quivering with each sob. You can’t help but wonder how many times he had to deal with it on his own, how many times he broke down alone without anyone to hold him tight. You want him to know that you’re here, that you’ll always be, and that everything he’s feeling is okay.

“You’re not alone. I’m here.” His sobs get slightly louder, his neck burying even deeper into the crook of your neck. He tries to get lost in your calming scent and to get a grip on his shaky breathing. You stroke his hair slowly, patiently waiting for him to deal with every feeling he’s dealing with right now. “That part is always the hardest… I’m sorry…” “Don’t be. It’s okay to be sad, it’s completely normal, Az.” 

You stay there for a while longer, before he flies the both of you back in your house. The both of you quietly get ready for bed, and put on the matching pair of socks his mother had lovingly knitted. He nuzzles into your neck and holds you close. It felt so good to have someone at his side… He regrets not bringing you with him sooner on his visits. 

“I love you…” He whispers, his voice barely audible. “I love you too, Az.” You answer back before falling asleep.

A/N: Azriel is a very complicated male to write about... there's not much we know about him, actually! Can't wait to see what Sarah J.Maas has planned for us in the next book, I hope we'll learn more about him. 💕😊

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Hey guys! I wanted to put together a list of low spoons foods, and thought you might enjoy it. My primary objective was to come up with a list that requires little to no prep, is relatively inexpensive, and has a fairly long shelf life. There's also a few of my favorite simple recipes at the end. Bon apatite!

Proteins: Tuna/Canned chicken: Canned tuna/chicken can usually last a few years, and you can get it for a dollar or two, sometimes cheaper. It can be cooked easily in a skillet, eaten raw, or added to soups/pasta. Mix with some mayo for a quick tuna or chicken salad that goes well on bread, tortillas, or crackers. You can add raisins or cheese for a little extra variety as well! Breakfast sausage: A lot of meats are really scary to cook with, but I've come to the conclusion that breakfast sausage is designed for people with that groggy, zombie-like morning brain, so it's fairly simple; just pop it on a plate (usually with a paper towel to catch the grease) and toss it in the microwave. You can get it as links or patties, and if you're like me where foods with a hint of flavor are unreasonably spicy, there's a maple variety that's sweet rather than spiced. Deli meats: There's no rule against buying a package of pre-sliced ham, turkey, roast beef or even bologna that's designed for sandwiches and instead just snacking on it when you need some protein, or just serving it on the side with your meal. If it feels weird to just eat sliced deli meat and you've got the time and energy, get some sliced cheese as well, cut them into squares with a butter knife, and eat them with crackers for DIY lunchables. Peanut Butter: Peanut butter is an excellent source of protein, and you can eat it on bread, crackers, tortillas, celery, pancakes, or even just on its own on a spoon! If you don't like the texture, you can mix it into something else like oatmeal, sauces, or pancake batter. If you don't like the flavor, try it with a little cinnamon sugar (put cinnamon and sugar in a jar or shaker and shake it until incorporated.) If you've got a peanut allergy, alternative butters are good too, but often separate if you leave them out for too long, but are much better in baking than on their own. Eggs: Making eggs is hard sometimes, but you can boil a bunch in advance and leave them in the fridge for when you need them (not too many or for too long, though.) Just put them in water and bring it to a boil; once the eggs start to float, leave them there for ten minutes. Once they're done, drain them and leave them in cold water for ten minutes to cool. Either peel in advance if you've got the time, or peel as needed. Store in an airtight container in the fridge.

Dairy: Sliced Cheese: Just like with deli meats above, you can get sliced cheese to chomp on when you need a little boost. There's a lot of flavors to choose from! Shredded Cheese: Shredded cheese is great for sprinkling onto your meals or just snacking on handfuls of. You can also throw some onto some tortilla chips and pop 'em in the microwave for ~30 seconds to make quick, cheap nachos. Cheese sticks: Not a fan of eating slices or shreds of cheese? Cheese sticks are much more snackable and can be eaten on the go! Yogurt: You can eat it as is, or you can mix in frozen fruits and honey to create an almost ice-cream like treat! Chocolate Milk: A carton of chocolate milk that you are going to drink is better for you than a carton of regular milk that is going to go bad because you can't bring yourself to drink it. If you're like me and milk leaves a weird taste in your mouth, try following it with water or finishing the milk before you finish the rest of your meal. Cream Cheese: You can put this stuff on anything, guys. Bagels? Crackers? Toast? English Muffins? Tortillas? Regular muffins? Cookies, even? Go crazy! Cottage cheese: A lot of people like cottage cheese for salads or with peaches, but it can also be tasty on its own.

Grains: Crackers: You can eat them as is, you can add cream cheese, nutella, peanut butter, tuna salad, deli meats and cheeses, or you could dip them in a spread like hummus, guac, or ranch. Tortillas: Sometimes bread can be Scary and Evil and there's no way you're gonna eat a whole loaf before it goes bad. I get it. Tortillas last longer, they're a better texture, and it's only eight servings per bag. Use them whenever you'd make a sandwich- pb&j, ham & cheese, tuna salad and more can all go in a simple wrap or roll up. If you're feeling ambitious, you can also make a quick breakfast burrito by throwing scrambled eggs and breakfast sausage in a tortilla with a little cheese. Pancake mix: Boxed pancake mix is simple enough- just add water, or milk to make it fluffier, then cook according to instructions. It's a little time consuming, but it's simple to learn, and if you make a big enough batch you can just pop them in the microwave, airfryer, or even the toaster in the morning for the rest of the week. You can also spice up your mix by adding frozen fruits, peanut butter, bacon bits & cheese, or chocolate chips, or by replacing the water in the recipe with coffee, apple cider, or chocolate milk! Toaster Waffles: Toaster waffles are great for a quick breakfast or snack, but can also be used for sandwiches, or topped with a protein like peanut butter!

Fruits and Vegetables: Raisins: Raisins are sweet, inexpensive, take a long time to expire, and are guilt free— no one in the history of ever has ever felt bad about eating too many raisins! You can easily throw them in a trail mix (trail mix is a loose term; just throw whatever little snacks you have in the pantry into a bowl and mix 'em together,) or a chicken salad, and they're really good sprinkled on peanut butter! Dried fruit: You can find these in the trail mix section of most stores. If you don't like raisins, there may be a different dried fruit you do like. Dried bananas are delightfully crunchy. Dried mango is still a little moist. Find a dried fruit that works for you! Pickles: Pickles are a vegetable with an extremely long fridge life. You don't have to settle for pickled cucumber though; you can find all kinds of pickled vegetables at the store, or ask a friend who pickles (you know which friend came to mind) if they have a jar of pickled veggies they'd sell you or any tricks to pickling your own. Frozen Fruit: Fruits last so much longer frozen, and you can get fairly good sized bags of them for not too much at the store. They're great for mixing in with yogurt, baking, pancakes, and more! Frozen Vegetables: If expiration dates are your worst enemy, consider getting some longer lasting frozen veggies. They can be microwaved or added to soups or ramen. If you're not a fan of the taste, you can hide them by adding some in with the frozen fruit in a smoothie. Canned vegetables: Canned veggies also last a while, and can be added to soups, boiled, or sometimes eaten as is. Canned soup: Tomato soup or a soup with veggies in it is a great way to get some vegetables into your diet. You can also add any canned, fresh, or frozen veggies to any can of soup you have on hand to use up some of your leftovers before they go bad. Tomato sauce: If you keep a jar of marinara, pasta, or pizza sauce on hand in the fridge, you can spread it on any grain you have lying around (bagel, biscuit, crackers, bread, english muffin, tortilla) and add shredded cheese to make a quick and fun pizza. You can go crazy with extra toppings as well! Applesauce: It's great as is, but you could also mix in brown sugar and cinnamon, or add it to pancakes or oatmeal. It can also be used as an egg substitute in most of your baking, and you can even use it as a spread on pancakes!

Quick Recipes: 3 Ingredient Pancakes • 1/2 cup applesauce (or one mashed banana) • 1 egg • 1 packet instant oatmeal Mix all ingredients together and cook on a greased skillet at 375°

Two Minute Mug Cake • 6 tablespoons boxed cake mix • 4 tablespoons water or milk Combine ingredients in a mug and microwave for one minute.

Toaster Crispy Quesadilla • 1 tortilla • 1 slice of cheese (I like to use cheddar!) • deli meat Place a slice of cheese toward the top of the tortilla. Layer desired amount of meat on top. Fold the sides over your meat and cheese (so they can't drip out the sides) then fold in half over the cheese (so it won't drip out the bottom.) Place in the toaster with the open end UP! Toast as desired.

Tuna Bagel Melts • plain bagel • tuna salad (one can of tuna with a few spoonfuls of mayo to taste) • two slices cheese Open the bagel and spread tuna salad on it. Place the cheese on top of the bagels. Broil or airfry for a few minutes.

Cracker Pizzas • a dozen crackers • a few tablespoons tomato sauce • three slices of cheese Arrange the crackers on a plate. Spread a spoonful of sauce on each cracker. Fold each slice of cheese into fourths so they break apart. Place one little slice on each cracker. Microwave for thirty seconds.

Simple Smoothie Recipe • 1/2 cup yogurt • 1/2 cup milk • 1/2 cup frozen fruit Combine all ingredients in the blender. Blend. [To make this easier, pre-mark your blender. Add a half cup of water to your blender and mark with a sharpie to the fill level. Repeat twice. You now know what level to fill each ingredient to without the hassle of measuring them.

[echantedtoon]

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished Ch3 Kindness Towards Cruelty

(Tagging @punks-never-die205 @feiatjjk

@karmadglory @babygurlenthusiast @swampstew @purplesoulsapphire

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know.

Warnings for yandere themes, mentioned entertainment district and spicy stuff but it will STAY sfw, Kid's in cannon killing streak and violence, maybe some cussing.

Should've mentioned it before but these first three chapters take place before the two year time skip. I know oirans knew tea ceremonies and I apologize if not everything is accurate. I got the info on tea ceremonies from the first video linked below. If Kid comes off as disrespectful during the ceremony it's because I'd imagine he's never been to a tea ceremony and he's a pirate.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xD7qUfSOGOE&list=LL&index=2&pp=gAQBiAQB )

"Which  house do you think has an oiran?"

Bright lights were everywhere.

It nearly blinded the men by the amount of lanterns and lightly that glowed warmly against the sky, giving just a small amount of light. People were everywhere. Tons of them. Walking around, shouting at one another, talking loudly, and sometimes carrying objects like bags or boxes. The murmuring of voices together was loud enough to be a buzz like that of a bee hive. It rattled their heads in a way that was unpleasant and not too familiar.

The buildings surrounding the people were bigger than any of the ones back where they hailed from. Two or three stories each. At the base of said houses were small stalls and wagons the tons of people warned but you couldn't see what they sold unless you got close to them. There was too many different faces. It was dizzying. Yet that didn't stop Heat from quickly stopping by one stall that it's vendor sold large warm meat packed dumplings, buying one and proceeding to eat it as they walked. The savory taste of soup boiled beef and spice mixing deliciously in his mouth as they walked.

Only now stopping to look at the maze of houses lining the streets and bedazzled in way too much money. The Flower Capital was known for too much flattery and painting everything in the metaphorical gold. It's supposedly a display of wealth but if you asked someone like Killer, it just meant they were egotistical and guady.

"Why don't we just pick the fanciest looking one and try in there? Rich idiots usually keep the good things on display."

That was true. In their experience, the rich weren't too bright and enjoyed showing off WAY too much. Made them easier targets for pirates like them. Eventually masked blue eyes blinked around before settling on one building in particular.

The entire thing was white. Shiny wood painted a pure white, meanwhile golden oak pillars decorated the outside like beams of heavenly light. A golden glow emitted from the front and a few girls in beautiful kimonos happily giggled and waved at passerbys who stopped to gawk in awe at their beauty. Surely a very successful house amongst the others. Seemed like a place only an oiran would reside.

After a moment, the blonde pointed out the rather stunning building. "If I had to guess, It'd be there."

"You think so?"

Killer shrugged his shoulders. "Let's take a look anf find out."

Wire and Heat looked at one another but followed him as Killer made his way towards the large building. Even now people stopped to look at them passing by in shock but most steer clear of the three of quickly scrambled out of their way as they walked past them. The girls even stopped their flirty smiles and stepped back from the entrance as they ascended the stairs and through the entrance. The inside looked as fancy as the outside but much more the large space was not surprisingly filled with more women dressed up in a similar style to all the others they've seen, all stopped and stared widely at the three large men that walked right in. Looking around the place of shiny polished floors, and lit candles, and velvet curtains hanging off the walls.

The murmuring of the ladies quieted down as the three looked around. Hm. Maybe they didn't come to the right place? A shuffling of quick footsteps got their attention and a second later the curtains moved, revealing another man on the other side. He was nothing to look at. Practically the stereotypical man who at first smiled probably expecting customers, however like everyone else was stunned into surprise by the sight of the three large pirates in the middle of the room. More silence passed before he let the curtains drop back into place behind him and gave a more nervous grin.

"Ah. Good evening, Gentlemen," he greeted somewhat nervously clasping his hands together. "Welcome to the Heavens House. How can I help you three tonight?"

"We're looking for a girl," Killer's blunt tone was unchanging despite the flinch it caused who must've been the house master.

"Ah! Well that can be arranged!" He gestured his hands around them. "We have many fine young ladies here for your entertainment tonight."

"Maybe I should've been more specific. You gotta oiran here?"

The man blinked. "Oiran? O-Oh. We-Well that is a very expensive choice. A very high class lady."

"Is that a yes or no?"

Again the nervous look. "We.. I'm afraid we do not house Kumorasaki. I get that very often."

"We don't want Kumorasaki. Just an oiran. Any ordinary oiran will be fine."

"Oh?...Oooooh. Well then yes! Heavens House does host an oira !" He was back to happy within seconds. "But of course..A high class lady such as herself isn't without it's costs-"

"We got the funds. Money is not a problem."

"Then do tell which of you fine gentlemen wishes to be in her company for the night. Or perhaps you were hoping to get a performance from our resident madam?"

"It's not for us. We're getting her as a gift for our Captain."

Again that silence persisted from the room before the man gulped. "O-Oh. I see you're sea fairing men. Wh-Who might be your captain might I ask?"

"Kid."

"Kid?" All at once the color drained from his face at the horrible realization. "As i-in Eustass 'Captain' Ki-Kid?"

"Yeah. That's right." Killer's head tilted at him. "When can she arrive?"

"I-...I-Im afraid I'll have to decline you business." The puny man stuttered out after a gulp. "That man's worth three hundred fifteen million berries! He's a dangerous man. That's ba-bad for business and I can't risk the only oiran here! I'd be a fool to subject the odds to that."

Killer didn't answer at first. Only humming before tilting his head. "Alright then. You're a business man I get it. So-..." The way he slowly crossed his arms had the paler man's eyes widening. "Let's talk business."

"Captain Eustass Kid." The voice so calming and sweet carried with it and aura of grace as those lashes fluttered shut as she bowed. It struck his veins like an icy ghost's hand dipping into his body and seizing his throat. "I'm so honored to have the pleasure of meeting you."

"PPFFFTT-?!"

The metaphorical ghost hand entrapping his throat clogged up the alcohol going down forcing him to choke it out of him. Back into the mug of all over the table, whichever one was closest. A loud series of coughs and hacks left his throat disrupting the serenic scene and finally bursting that seed filled bubble.

"Surprise, Captain!", someone shouted from the crowd, "WE GOT YA AN OIRAN!!"

A series of laughs, cheers, whoops, and a few wolf whistles filled the air. Amber eyes widened as his face snapped in shock towards the crowd of cheerers. The mug dropping to the ground with whatever was left inside spilling out all over the ground. He sat there in stunned shock only stiffly looking over when Killer reached out to pat his shoulder grinning under that mask he wore.

He couldn't speak. Not registering whatever words the killer next to him said in jest.  The rounds of clapping and cheers echoed around him blurring into one at last. Nothing really getting to him through the muffled faraway voices becoming nothing but a hum. A buzz.to his mind for nothing but the mind. Instead the shining lights on the strings above, the golden glow catching onto the heavenly image before amber eyes. The image of a smile on her face as her graceful body bent back up from the bow and smiled at him. The image of beauty shining upon his face.

"Would you like to come back with me? Or perhaps you would prefer to have me come and join where you sit?"

His mouth opened wide- The dryness of the ghost clenching around the wind pipe prevented him from saying a word. The only guiding thing preventing him from choking on a sound was the fact he found nothing to say. But then the serene moment was gone. Replaced and cut through by the sound of a very loud wolf whistle that pierced the air. In an instant the mouth snapped shut and a redness not unlike his red hair spread across his face.

"SHUT UP!!," his voice echoed out but all it got in return was a bout of laughs from the crew. "What the hell is this, Killer?!" He demanded turning to the blonde man for answers.

"We just wanted to get you something after everything you've done. Take a load off and relax, Kid," Killer spoke the same words he used from before giving his friend a couple more pats to his back before retreating his arm. Ice cubes clinked in a glass when his hand grabbed onto his drink once more. "We just wanted to get you something you never had before."

"Huh?! You assholes think I l've never got a girl before?!"

"Have you ever had an oiran before?"

"I DIDN'T ASK ANYONE FOR HELP!! I COULD'VE GOTTEN ANY MAN OR WOMAN I WANTED IN THE ENTIRE CAPITAL AND YOU KNOW IT!!"

"Oh.." Killer pondered something for a moment. "Then you don't want the oiran?"

"If he doesn't want her can I have her?" 

A red haired man bristled. Stiffly snapping his head around to the point Killer was expecting a snap sound to go off from his neck. The face of beauty turned to the right. A dirty stray. A rat. Filthy cockroach of a man. Scuttling about like a filthy tag along whom followed the vision of beauty like a wolf hunting sheep. Skulking closer and closer to the dancer's stage, to take her from the lanterns spotlight into the gastly shadows. The expression on her face was anything but smiling once the threat was slotted within sight. The beady eyes shown in perversion and greed. 

It made an unspoken challenge to the Red Devil's whims and like hellfire he burnt out one hell of an annoyance. Many heads turned as with a rattling of a table and stomp down of boots, the Red Devil stood at his full height and many heads turned to the new annoyed fury. 

"LIKE FUCK YOU ARE!!," the angry voice shot out and everyone else seemed to freeze up within sights of the anger emitting off the amber eyes. "PUT ONE FUCKING HAND ON MY WOMAN AND I'LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH!!"

"So you do want her?"

The way Kid's teeth clenched and grinded against one another could practically be heard as his fists clenched.. before he deflated with a grunt. "Fine. I'll fucking take her. BUT ONLY BECAUSE YOU USED OUR MONEY TO GET HER NOT BECAUSE I CAN'T GET A GIRL MYSELF!!"

A round of cheers were set off as he grunted with an eye roll. Idiots. All of them. He'd show them. It wasn't anything he needed! It'd just be a waste of money otherwise! So cheers ignored he took his first steps towards the woman who was called to the scene and presented to him like a glittering trophy for his disastrous deeds. The beautiful doll all dressed up and looking at him silently as he approached her. Each heavy thud of his steps coming up to her until he stood right in front of her. In silence she regarded him as amber eyes looked over her, up and down but without the lust of the usual audience. Instead it was more studying rather than anything else really. As if a curious fox was circling the hen house. 

Amber eyes took great care in studying the wrapping of fabric adorned her body. The way those ridiculous shoes made her taller when is reality she couldn't have been taller than half his upper torso. The beautiful hair pins adorned by fake bedazzled roses and tansels that swayed with each tiny tilt of her head, keeping that glossy silky hair nearly tied up in that hairstyle expertly done. The way her face wasn't surprisingly caked in a million layers of make up like the other women here. Instead it was just enough to make her features pop without taking away from the natural beauty of herself. Especially those reddened lips.

He stood there. Amber eyes looked left. Then to the right. "So ..How does this work?"

"Work?" Her head innocently tilted as pretty orbs blinked.

"Do we get a hotel room or do I take you to dinner? Or-..." 

Shit.

What the HELL was he supposed to do in this situation?! It's usually so easy. Pick up a girl, give her a drink or decent meal, flirt a bit, have their fun, and then leave. How the hell was he supposed to know what to do with an oiran? Should he just..pick her up and carry her off? That.. didn't seem like the right thing to do with an oiran but why should he care?! It's HIS woman HIS crew bought HIM for the night and with HIS loot so he could do whatever the hell HE pleased!! And yet-..He couldn't fathom just tossing her over his shoulder and heading to the closest inn for some strange reason. 

That's when he heard a sound. A sound so innocent it made him flinch.

A giggle.

A beautiful giggle that chimed like beautiful little bells as she smiled and held a hand to her pretty face. "You may escort me back to my house if you wish? After all I did come all the way out here to collect my customer. That is if you'd want to."

Hmm. Being paraded through town with a beautiful woman was tempting..but he'd look ridiculous just walking next to her dancing back to whatever house she worked. So he decided on the latter. 

"You start. I'll follow behind you."

No arguments. No complaints. No other suggestions. Just a cute little smile and respectful bow of her head. "If that's what you wish, Mr. Kid."

Mister? Who the hell called him Mister like an old man?

He didn't say anything about it then though, but watched as she simply turned to no doubt start her procession back up and back towards her home. He gave one last look at his crew who all have him either sounds of approval, smiles, or in Killer's case a thumbs up. Idiots. He'd have to have a word about surprises in the future when this entire fiasco was over with. But for now, he'll indulge them.

The walk there was anything but pleasant really. Rather slow and awkward as she gracefully danced her way back into the spotlight and into the awed eyes of many spectators. Smiling in appreciation at them all which made a shift move in his chest in whatever reason. Wasn't she supposed to be his for the night? Pretty sure that smile was only supposed to be his, but he didn't voice any complaints. 

He just stiffly and awkwardly walked behind her like an out of place tag along until they reached the beautiful (tacky) house and followed her inside. The fearful and wary stares followed his form up the steps after her as her dance ended at the door. Pausing her dance in exchange for walking normally but still not loosing that graceful movement. Not when she had to duck to fit within the door front and lift her expensive silks to walk inside as he followed closely behind. Inside women cowered in his wake. One look from him was enough for them to turn their eyes away in fear of Eustass 'Captain' Kid. Heh. Guess his reputation really proceeds him even all the way out here. Made a tiny smirk turn on his face.

"He-Hello, S-S-Sir." An absolute wimp of a man stood before him. Cowardly shaking behind a girl thinner and punier than even he was if that was even possible. Ha! Like that'd help him if he decided to crush his ugly head or tear this dam place apart. "We've been e-e-expecting you. Yo-Yo-You're room has a-already been accom-m-modate." Amber eyes narrowed down to him. "A-A-All on the house!" He shouted ducking down behind the trembling girl. "No-No extra charge! Pl-Please enjoy!"

All the answer the pirate gave was a grunt before his attention was quickly taken back to the beauty. Like a beacon of hope she stood before him, but what had amber eyes widening slightly was the smile on her face still. Not an once of fear. Only a politeness as she stood upright gracefully in a room of cowards. He supposed that should annoy him or make him impressed or both, but all he could say was one thing.

"How the fuck are you able to walk around in those dam things?" His head directed down to those ridiculously high block shoes she still wore.

Despite the rudeness she only smiled. "Years of practice. Would you like me to escort you to your room?"

"Uh...Yeah. Sure. Whatever."

Again she bowed. "Please follow me, Mr. Kid-"

"And don't call me mister. It makes me sound like an old fuck."

"As you wish, Captain Kid." Her politeness kept up with her switch in a formal name for him.

Again it made that weird shift in his chest move but he made no comment as she turned and walked away from the main room allowing him to follow her through the halls of polished floors and doors. Women were there as well. Pressing themselves into the walls or quickly shuffling themselves into one of the many rooms. A few men were there too, no doubt customers, but they also paused as they saw the image of the Red Devil himself walking down the halls after the beautiful oirans. His heavy footfalls echoing throughout the entire halls from the first floor to the second and then the third where a single hall awaited him and one large door. A scrawny servant girl was the only other person there besides them and she trembled while holding some kind of tray in her hands. She smiled at him opening the large sliding door with a bow.

Amber eyes looked at her, then at the room for a few seconds calculating the minor possibility of this night being a trap, before slowly walking inside. The floor was covered in tatami mats other than a small square space in the middle of the room beholding an already boiling black tea kettle. On the far left side was a large cushion presumably for him to sit on and a small table beholding a large gourd he assumed was filled with water or sake. And plates of food were already waiting for him. The expensive stuff too.

O-toro sashimi. Wagyu steak cuts. And the rest he wasn't sure what it was. Some kind of noodles in broth. That was onigiri. Some kind of sushi he thinks?? He only knew the names of some of them because Killer either tried making them once or had spoken about wanting to try out their recipe. Sure went out of their way to accommodate him. Probably out of fear. 

To the fair right of the room was a low standing vanity with a pillow sat in front of it and a wide variety of make up, brushes, and other items were nearly placed upon it. A second door..Closet maybe? Or lead to a bathroom. And a large luxurious futon nearly made. Obviously her accomodations for living. A koto instrument and shamisen was leaned against the side wall on her side, tuned and ready for use at any moment. 

All in all, what he expected and oirans room to look like but he was surprised at how less fancy looking it was considering the district and her high position. 

"Please." He turned to her. Her gentle smile and graceful hand gestured to the large sitting pillow and table of food. "Make yourself comfortable."

Amber eyes still stared at her but slowly did as she asked. Slowly walking to the seat and (after lifting the pillow to make sure nothing was placed under it and feeling a quick hand under the table) slowly sat himself down . His heavy body sinking right into the fluffy weight under him.

"Tch. Too soft," he grunted.

"I can arrange a different one to be brought to you if you'd like."

"Nah. M' fine."

"As you wish, Captain Kid-san. With your permission I'd be honored to perform a tea ceremony for you."

His gaze looked back up to where she still half bowed, eyes closed, and smiling as is pleasantly dreaming away. "A...what?"

"A tea ceremony. It is but only one of the duties I can perform. With your permission, I'd like to perform it for you as a welcome start to your stay here."

He wasn't sure what to think at first watching the still woman. Before he grunted just reaching out to start helping himself to the food. He barely got to eat all night having to help babysit his crew's drunk shenanigans so far, plus he felt too awkward just sitting there doing nothing. 

"Sure. Knock yourself out."

"As you wish."

He just mindlessly stuffed one of those rice balls into his mouth and placed his head in his hands as he watched her. The trembling servant girl quickly handed her the tray before scrambling away, leaving the oiran alone with him. With a smile she turned to him and bowed tray in hand before stepping inside. He noticed that she didn't wear those shoes anymore so her height was where he estimated it to be. She barely reached the middle of his torso. Door sliding behind her she made her way silently to the teapot before him and sat down on her knees in silence.

He just watched as she silently began to place the objects in front of him which included two clothes, a ladle, and a few other things. The silence around them continued on other than the light noises coming from her moving around the objects. Starting with her wiping down the already dry tools, and then pouring water into the decorated.. Cup? Bowl? Before it was quickly discarded. What was the point of pouring water in there if she wasn't going to use it for tea?

A few other motions were performed as he watched her closely until she opened the small container filled with green powder. Immediately his brows shot up and his eyes narrowed.

"What's that?"

"Matcha tea powder." She calmly explained continuing to scoop two spoonfuls into the water inside the bowl. "It's the tea used in the tea ceremonies I perform."

"...Sure that ain't poison?"

"If it was, I'd have less guests."

She still continued to work as she spoke never once breaking her motion as he glanced suspiciously between her and the drink she began to whisk up. Call him suspicious but he couldn't help himself. His body was naturally on guard in unknown environments. She continued until the cup was lifted into her hands before gently presented to him with a small pattern of Sakura blooms painting the cup's front. Amber eyes stared at it for ten seconds before holding out his hand. She placed it in his palm gently and he flinched at how soft her skin was.

He remained sitting there holding this cup as she returned to her objects. Gently placing them back onto the tray again without another look at him. He blinked looking at the green liquid within the cup, and raising a brow at brow at the butter smell wafting out of it. She did not look back up until she heard him suddenly make a loud questioning grunt in distaste. His eyes scrunched shut, mouth in a grimace as his arm held it away from his mouth.

"What's wrong?"

"Tastes bitter!"

She giggled."That's how it's supposed to be served. I suppose it's not everyone's taste."

"And rich fucks actually pay for this?" She continued to silence giggles as he placed the cup on the table, pushing it away from him whilst simultaneously grabbing the gourd and downing the burning sake inside. 

"I do hope you're not too displeased with the ceremony." He brought the gourd down to give a deadpanned look at her. To which she only smiled at him and gestured to the instruments along the wall. "If you prefer, I can play something for you instead."

"Play?"

She nodded. "Yes. I can play both the koto and shamisen. I can also perform traditional dances and sing for you if you'd like."

"Uh...No."

"Then perhaps Captain Kid-san would prefer a more strategical challenge. I can play many board games including go and shogi."

"No."

"Then perhaps you would like to hear a story? I can recite many old stories or poetry for your amusement."

"Do I look like a guy who listens to poetry and stories?!"

Her head tilted once more, smile going a bit smaller but never waning. "Then what shall you prefer me to do?"

"I mean...I was expecting a little more-... Somethin' different from this."

Something a LOT different from this actually. He really didn't come prepared to be sang to or be recited poetry like a romantic. There was silence as she continued to stare at him with that pretty face. The one that made his chest churn with something. Something that he forced himself to distract from by turning to the table and shoving a large sushi into his mouth. 

Her eyes followed his hands eating the food before slowly turning back to his face in a studious manner. "Captain Kid-san, I wonder if you would grant me permission to say something bold?"

"Hm?" He hummed in question chewing on another overpriced steak otherwise. 

"You are tense." Her kind tone but blunt words made him stop entirely. "Your posture, it is stiff and excuse my words but you seem uncomfortable sitting here with me. Is it perhaps you find it unpleasant?"

This unpleasant?

..Maybe. He's not exactly used to this type of treatment. He's a pirate. Whatever he wants he takes dam everyone else. Being served wasn't anything too unusual for him being served by barmaids and waiters of all kinds in bars and sometimes Killer will bring him food when he was extremely busy in his workshop. But this kind of treatment?

There's an air of elegance and art and it feels far too formal for a pirate. Especially one like him. The one with the highest bounty on his head. His bounty and reputation aside, even if he wasn't a pirate his intimidating appearance alone should've warranted some kind of fear in her. But yet he saw nothing like that in her movements or eyes. She's been nothing but sweet, and the whole thing had been so foreign that he felt off about it..Yeah. That's what he was feeling.

Not unpleasant but out of place. And being out of place unsure of what to do naturally put him on edge. 

He exhaled through his nose swallowing down the food in his throat and looked at her. "....Not really. I was expecting more..'action' is all."

That made her give a small huff. "Well that's certainly not out of the question for me to do, but usually I am not summoned for something as simple as that."

"Oh yeah? Then what the hell do you usually do here? Sit around and look pretty?"

"I'm usually asked to perform at galas where I sing and dance or perform ceremonies for important high ranked people who visit the Flower Capital..But that's doesn't happen very often either. You see most people especially men want the company of Kumorasaki above anyone else here." Her pretty face looked off in a small sad smile. "I suppose I shouldn't be worried about the lack of attention but it leaves me just sitting here with nothing to do but perform music outside of the House."

Parties and gigs? So in other words she was a glorified performer. Sounded like a sucky life for someone whom was supposed to be a high ranked noble essentially. Is that why she was so happy to see him? Was she so bored that she completely disregarded any fear of him in order to have something to do? Maybe but even if she wasn't scared she should've been at least weary. Was it possible for her to not know who he was?

"I see...When did you last uh..'perform'?" He decided to keep the conversation light to avoid any awkwardness again.

"You are my first customer in almost an entire year. My last performance was performing a tea ceremony for the House Master's visiting brother," she confessed openly. "Otherwise I have not really done anything for quite some time."

"Is this Kumorasaki really that fuckin' important for business to be that slow?" A small twinge of anger for the woman's behalf bubbled up from his chest although he didn't know why.

She chuckled. "I have seen Kumorasaki in person before. She's actually quite beautiful and her skills as a professional oiran far outdo my own. I don't blame others for wanting her to be in their presence. For that I cannot be mad at anyone. To be jealous would accomplish nothing."

"Huh. Never heard it be out that way before." He leaned closer brows raising and smirk spreading across his face. "But I do wonder about you. You don't seem to be scared of me. Do ya not know who I am?"

Those beautiful orbs did not look away from him despite his towering demeanor. "You are Captain Eustass Kid of the Victoria Punk. They say you're the worst out of the worst generation."

"See my reputation proceeds me. And that doesn't intimidate you a lil bit, Peacock?"

"Of course but as with jealousy towards another, to fear would accomplish nothing."

...His smirk slowly shifted. "Huh. You're either really brave or really fuckin' stupid. I don't know if you've noticed but I can crush you like a big "

"I have noticed that but you have not done anything for me to warrant any fear. If you had wanted to kill me, a man like you would've done so already." The small smile widened. "To fear you would show disrespect to actions you had not done. If you had threatened me or otherwise then fear would be warranted, however you have done nothing to me like that. So to give you fear of something you hadn't done would be like to hate you for breaking my table." Her hand gestured to the fancy table of food. "You have not broken the table therefore it'd make no sense to hate you for it. So why would I fear you if nothing had been done to give me fear?"

He was ... speechless. Very much taken aback by her words. So simply stated yet- Yet it hit him like a good slap across the face. What was this? Lack of fear? He didn't get that from anyone else other than his own crew, powerful enemies, and for some reason Strawhat who seemed to think they were somehow friends. But from a random girl who he could easily destroy without even his devil fruit abilities?  THAT was something he never found before. 

Interesting.

"Hm. Interesting...How is it a working girl has a thinking process like that yet still ends up in a house like this?"

"I wasn't always an oiran. Believe it or not I used to be a servant of a noble lady in a neighbouring district." Those beautiful orbs closed again and she bowed her head. "She was a rare kind woman in these parts but unfortunately she died and I had to find alternative employment unless I wanted to be banished from the Capital."

"And becoming a working girl in a brothel was a better option?"

"It's a living. It's not all bad. I have food, shelter, and a nice title even if it's not quite suitable for me. We all have to scrape by in life, and I'm sure it's not always easy for a pirate on the seas as well yet we have to learn to live with those hardships."

Wise words spoken by someone who shouldn't have been so wise at least in his eyes. She was as somber as a sloth yet as clever as an owl with the allure of a fox and grace of a swan. A strange but beautiful combination.

"....Have you eaten anything today?"

"Not a thing. I'm not allowed to indulge myself in front of guests until they're satisfied or leaves. I discipline myself to hold my hunger."

...The clinking of chopsticks against dishes didn't disturb her until she heard him speak once more. "Eat this."

Glowing eyes and pretty lashes fluttered towards him in surprise that made him feel that tightness in his chest. In front of her was a pair of chopsticks holding up a piece of that wagyu steak towards her. Her gentle gently blinked before gazing to him in question.

"No sense in starvin' yourself."

She hummed. "This is unusual for someone to request of me."

"I'm not requesting. I'm fucking ordering you!" He nudged it towards her frowning. "EAT!"

Her expression did not change when looking in surprise from his hand to him before that sweet smile came back and she bowed her head. "If that is what Captain Kid-san requests of me."

He said nothing but flinched as two soft tiny hands reached out to cup his in them. They were so soft, yet a bit calloused probably from her previous life as a servant but her nails her perfectly manicured in a similar way to his painted ones. However amber eyes didn't notice that. But watched as she simply took the food away from him and ate silently. Gazing at him with that grateful smile. A panging tightness went off in chest that spearheaded warmth to his face and slapped a coat of pink paint onto his cheeks. 

"T-Take what you need from the dam plates!" He eyes turned and hand wrenched his hand away trying not to look at the red lipstick now lining his chopsticks. "Just don't fucking starve yourself in front of me!"

"Of course. You have my gratitude for your mercy."

He grunted but said nothing as she gently slid one of the many plates towards herself. He noticed that it was some dish of meat and rice but said nothing as she proceeded to start eating it. Gods...Even the way she ate was graceful. Skilled in such a way he wasn't entirely sure if he was secretly watching a runaway princess eat by the way she politely ate big by bit. He forced himself to turn away from her with a grunt. Distracting himself by chugging down the sake and popping those tiny annoying little cake deserts into his mouth. Not bothering to look back up. It was a tense ten or so minutes before she bothered to speak again.

"Is there anything else Captain Kid-san would like of me?"

He jolted. Eyes blinking back up to make contact with hers for what must've been the millionth time that night. Nothing but a quaint little smile waiting for him to say anything. To speak a desire of her. Desire...He didn't really desire anything here. Singing and dancing wasn't what he came here for certainly. He was looking for a good time. Drinking, chowing down, and eventually meeting a cute gal to maybe get aquatinted with for his time there. Instead what he got was a surprise he didn't ask for...but a beautiful one he was unsure what to do with. If he wasn't distracted by her beauty, he would've just called it a night there. Thanked her maybe before just leaving and finding his night elsewhere yet- 

"Ever get requests for kissing?"

"Yes believe it or not."

"Can-"

Can I kiss you?

It was on the top of his tongue but that ghost hand was back clenching his throat as she smiled. Silently standing up to her full height and suddenly he felt tiny, intimidated. He didn't like that. Not one but as she slowly walked up to where he was sitting down and nearly choked on his own tongue. Then before he knew it she was before him leaning down and smiling.

From his place, he could see the lantern light reflecting distantly off her eyes making it look almost heavenly. It was beautiful. Her smile widened and eyes lit up immediately reflecting all the pretty lights like stars in a mirror. It made him mesmerized just looking at that beautiful scene in her beautiful eyes- Before he flinched as gently hands cupped his cheeks. 

"Is this alright? You can tell me to stop."

He only nodded yes. She stood in front of the lights shining on her just the right way to give him the impression she was  an angel. A sight he was hesitant to leave when she bent down. Then they were both closer than he remembered. Just a few inches from one another twinkling under the single lantern's lights. Face going a dim pink and a few chuckles from the moment escaping her. They chimed like pretty bells, sounding heavenly. No one was here too. So it was just them two. Alone here with nothing but each other for company. His mind felt completely blank and numb but in a good way, compelling him to reach his hands up and cup a cheek of hers in return something his rational brain wouldn't allow himself to do. Inches away now. She didn't move away.

He stared at the woman in front of him, this strange, strange woman with the beautifully flowing hair and the cute smile. If he was watching this as an outsider, he would've laughed at how they were literally just strangers less than a while ago, but right now it didn't seem any of that or anything else mattered. Not even the topic they had been discussing just a few seconds ago. Maybe it really was a mutual madness they both shared or some form of chaos in their lives, but right now....With them being so close...And so vulnerable. It was only natural of course-.. It's what soulmates do-.. Of course they would since-...

Their lips just pressed for a few wonderful seconds before he suddenly pulled himself away looking at her and breathing heavily. His grip on her tightening and untightening in waves as if restraining himself. His warm breath ghost over her lips and face warming them as he stared half lidded. 

"Captain Kid-san?"

"Kid," his voice deep from the moment said. "No formal shit. Just call me Kid."

Another giggle as a thumb gently rubbed his cheek. "Will there be anymore of me you want tonight?"

WANT.

His body screaming at him WANT, NEED, HIS!! But ..it wasn't out of lust. It was some foreign thing in his chest that he was unsure of what it was, but it wasn't unpleasant this time.

"....Yeah. Your name." He smiled at her. "What's your name, Dove?"

"Y/n. My name is Y/n."

Y/n. Beautiful name that sent his nerves on fire.

"Shall we continue?"

YES!! HE DESPERATELY WANTED TOO-

But yet he stopped himself and frowned. "Is that something YOU want?" Her mouth opened- "I'm not talkin' about your duties. Fuck them. No obligations. Is it what YOU want with me? I ain't gonna do anything if it's done out of 'obligations' or cuz you think you have to. I don't do that bullshit."

Her look changed. Genuinely..shocked. Staring at the pirate she just kissed and was still within his grip. The silence went on for a long moment before her face turned somber.

"I'm not against the idea. You are a very beautiful man, Eustass Kid."

"Yes or no? I hate beating around the dam bush!"

"...If you say it that way, then to be honest yes. But not right now. I like to get to know someone first. How long will you be docked in the Flower Capital?"

"A week. We're gathering supplies, and looking over the ship for damages. The week break is more for my crew to give 'em a well deserved break, then we're leaving."

Her smile was back. "Then I yes, but not tonight."

"Then that's a no." He sat there for a moment letting her continue holding his face. "...You..said you play?"

"Koto and shamisen. I also sing along with certain numbers."

"... What's your favorite song?"

"Apple Blossoms."

"Play it for me?"

"Gladly, Kid."

His heart rate increased by the use of a friendly tone given.

[grapejuicestyless]

i have had this idea for so long, but i really think you could do this justice. sort of like the film the holiday!!! but not really set in Christmas and more so through the seasons. harry moves out of the city (doesn’t need to be a singer and could just be a CEO) into a small village in a lovely cottage where all of the furniture is mismatched and there’s sash windows which are always open. He’s there for a few months before he starts to feel lonely so decides to bring in a lodger! He hand makes posters and puts them on the village hall board and … he finally gets a taker! It’s a quirky girl who is totally all over the place and she moves in .. the seasons change and so does their relationship.. friends to lovers OR ACTUALLY maybe it could be so interesting for it to be enemies to lovers! That could be fun to write. But idk I’ve been thinking about it for so long !!! They could organise a dinner party for friends one night or maybe Harry goes away to the city for a meeting and that’s where y/n realises how much she misses him / likes him. Definitely has to be fluffy but also needs to have some drama. I haven’t figured that out yet 😭😭😭 I’m so sorry for this really long rambly post but I wanted to give u as much of my brain as possible lol. I would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see what you would do with this / if it’s something you’re even interested in. Have a gorgeous evening / day / morning xxx love you!!💖💖💖💖💖

Bad People

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Harry and Y/n met by pure luck. Sharing secrets and laughing like little kids, ribs and cheeks hurting. Y/n is sure Harry is destined to be in her life forever. She’s just not sure when that became a bad thing.

FLANGST/FRIENDS TO ENEMIES TO LOVERS

The pale blue sky looked gray from certain windows. The glass was cracked and the stove stained with boiled over soup broth and old sprinklings of spices.

The birds sang solemnly, humming the tune to what I believed sounded like something you’d hear at a funeral. Here, the pavement was cracked and the stars were consistently covered with clouds. Snow, more often than not, fell heavily. From October to April. The nearby ocean nearly always too cold to swim in. The backyard pool cold and clean, still with nobody to inhabit it.

All the beauty ripped from the earth, and replaced with another kind of it. I wouldn’t mind it half as much, if I had someone to enjoy the snow with. To enjoy the polar plunges, the visible breath and numb fingers.

Like old times sake, snowmen and snowball fights. Sledding or fort making. Rosy cheeks and icy hair a memory of the past. Cheeks hurting from smiles, not the winter chill.

The laughter of my mother was long gone, and my brother outgrew his desire for a sibling as soon as he turned sixteen. Few friends, not any at least, that would enjoy the activities the white powder offered.

So now, I look out the window, nursing a glass of wine propped up on the windowsill. I don’t see the snow day ahead or pray for a white Christmas. I pray that one day, I’ll find someone to enjoy it with me. To soothe the pain little eight year old me suffered with the absence of her father, her distant mother and her selfish brother.

“Looking at it won’t make it fall any faster, Y/n.” The puff of air coming from my nose fogs up to cool glass, and my fingers leave prints along the center.

He’s not looking at me, he rarely does when we aren’t fighting. It’s like I disgust him. I feel like a fool every god damn time.

“Have you always naturally been an asshole or did you grow into it?” I don’t look at him, but I feel his gaze settle on my reflection in the glass. His voice alone urges me to take a large drink from the wine glass. The ruby red staining my top lip. I spread it around and taste the bitterness of it on my tongue.

He begins to leave, almost succeeding without a passing glance, but biting his tongue is something Harry nor I have ever been able to do. So it’s natural how he goes for the last word.

“Theres only so much wine, Y/n.” He teases. I down the rest while he walks away. The sigh that leaves my mouth after I feel the ghost of him leaving me isn’t only for air, but because suddenly the room feels lighter.

It’s funny, how someone so special can leave such a disgusting taste in your mouth. Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing. To remember that it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always hate my old friend, bounded to me through the home we share. I once enjoyed the company of Harry styles.

It was nearly a year since I’d moved in. A year since the snow turned to thick ice and roads became bare with people too afraid to try and navigate through the harsh winter.

Nearly a year since I first saw the house at the end of the road, with a neat front lawn and a tree with hanging branches ready to snap.

A red scarf and red mittens is what I wore. With a faded brown coat and worn blue jeans. A hat on top of my head and a journal tucked underneath my arm. He had the greenest eyes I had ever seen. The stars in the night sky didn’t quite shine as bright as his eyes, I swore it to myself.

He had an english accent, one that I wasn’t familiar with. Peach fuzz and dark chocolate curls a mess on his head. When I told him my job, he laughed, but something about his shocked expression after told me he didn’t mean it cruelly. Rather, that he was shocked, or just piecing the puzzle together.

“I’m my mother’s daughter.” I told him, “She always had a thing for poetry. The sappy ones with the tragic endings. I got it from her and I’m damn good at it.” I smiled at him then, and he smiled back bigger.

“It’s just funny. Moving somewhere so quiet for a job all about fantasy and adventure.” He explained, already guiding the two of us through the wide doorway. I set my boots in the old entryway which it seemed he had turned into a mud room. I admired the shade of green on the wall and nodded along. My cheeks hurt from smiling.

That night, while settling into my new space, I shared with him my life. My goals and dreams. With his toothy smile and boyish eyes, he made it so easy to trust him. I sat on my newly made bed and he sat in my spinning chair by my desk. Moving it back and forth, swaying slowly. A cigarette started dangling from his pocket, I still remember the way he took it between his thumb and his index finger. Rolling it around, debating whether or not to light it. It was like he didn’t know he had it.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker.” I laughed at him, he laughed back. Shy almost, only looking at me for a moment.

“M’not. A few here and there. Helps to wind down.” When he ran his hand through his hair, I remember seeing all his rings. A rose and two with his initials. One looked like a lion. That one was my favorite.

Other than his charming smile and infectious laughter, I knew nothing of him, I had come to realize. Here he was, knowing about my family and friends. My job and my hobbies. All I had asked him was his name.

When I asked him, he was just as talkative as I was. A sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his job. I remember specifically, how they lit up extra bright when he mentioned his mother, Anne, and his older sister, Gemma. I learned about his job too. Harry had everything he could ever truly want. The money, the power, the glory. His office at the top floor overlooking the bustling city that never sleeps. Families dancing around the square and traffic backed up into the city line.

The sad thing was, that even with all this pride he got to carry with his reputation, the city was no home to him. The summer held no comfort. Not the same now that he was long out of school. The heat was simply uncomfortable. His lavish suit sticking to his skin. Even the air conditioner couldn’t soothe the pounding of his head against the strong New York heat.

His nose stung in the summer. The warmer it got, the worse it smelled. Garbage littering the streets no longer covered by thick snow. Tourists and their children filling up all his favorite places of relaxation. Each carrying their own scent from home. The calming pine from the North or the tangy citrus of the west coast.

Harry felt no true love for his home anymore. No real attachment. There was no smell of home, and there certainly wasn’t any old faces with their gravelly voices and thick accents. If it weren’t for the business there, he would’ve fled somewhere else long ago. Somewhere quieter. Somewhere that felt like home. If he could, he would have tucked himself back into the small home his mother raised him and his sister in. He would’ve curled up happily in his twin bed and looked out the same crooked window each night and feel happy with only that.

He tells me that when he got in the car waiting for him at the airport, he was tempted to tell the driver to take him home, to see if it would make him smile. He’d seen the gag used in all the old rom-coms he and his mother used to watch. The short blonde running from the love of her life only to be led back into his arms. But Harry know’s better. He tells me so. So when the driver asks him where to, he tells him the address.

He told me about his work life. How there was a branch out in the UK. The one that started it all. And as his success grew, so did his aspirations and his needs. London no longer provided him with the luxury and opportunity that New York could. So he swapped out his office for a penthouse and acted like the smell of burning garbage and mysterious wet spots on the sidewalks didn’t bother him.

It’s a vicious cycle. To outgrow, to long for, to move, to hate all over again. Thats how he decided that London has just what he needed. His business within reach and smaller towns surrounding its borders.

“And what about now? Are you happy?” Harry crinkled his eyes then, smiling a nodding along. He didn’t even mind it then, when I would interrupt. In fact, he welcomed it. Claimed he loved hearing me talk.

I agreed with him when he said that the grass is greener down here. The stars are just that much brighter and theres not a single car honking their horn past nine. All things that left him feeling a whole lot calmer than the chaos of the city.

Here, Harry told me he didn’t mind not living in a lavish penthouse just a few blocks away from his work. Here, he was hours away from the city. He stays in a medium sized cape cod styled house, pre-decorated from the past owners who didn’t care to take their things when they left for something bigger. It sticks out from the rest of the homes nearby. He wonders how something so different ended up within the same area. And he smiled and sat on the floor when I laughed and told him he’d already lived quite the life for a nearly-thirty year old man.

When silence took over after over an hour long conversation, I bit at my nails and looked at the floor. Suddenly, it came to me.

“Harry?” I had asked. He hummed, looking at me. Even if I hadn’t looked back, I could still feel his eyes on mine. “What made you want a roommate?” When my eyes flickered up to his, I saw no hate, or disgust, or shame. Nothing that I am familiar with now in Harry’s eyes. I saw curiosity, warmth and happiness.

“I like the quiet. I like being able to sleep without someone yelling down the hallway. I like how green it is over here.” I nodded, waiting for him to continue. “But the quiet get’s lonely. And while I like the quiet, I hate being alone.” And it made me smile back then. Maybe it still does thinking about it know. He had been helping me in finding a home, some place warm to stay. Meanwhile, I had been able to give back. Give him what he wanted. At the time, my heart warmed.

For a long time after that, Harry made my heart beat fiercely. He brought me flowers and made us pancakes. Freshly picked blueberries from the local market. He cracked jokes and I repeated them back between our broken laughter, imitating his english accent.

He was a charming man, with an energy that invited and kept you drawn to him. Everyone wanted to be around Harry. The men and the women. Always wanting a piece of the pie. I felt rich in life, that while others had to work for a lifelong friendship with him, naturally, we fit together. We worked.

He entered my life by some kind of coincidence. I needed a place to stay and he was offering a room up.

When he brushed his thumb over my knuckles and kissed the skin, I believed we would be like this forever. Just the two of us.

When he whispered to me that he loved me that same night, I thought it was something he would never take back. Something that would never change. His warm breath and glistening eyes. He was red and shiny. A bottle of the cheap champagne sat on the table and an empty glass beside him. I let his lips trail around my hand and laugh at his antics.

“Harry.” I mumbled into the darkness, he doesn’t move. I silently giggle again after he puffs air out of his own nose onto my hand playfully. His shoulders shake with his own fits of laughter, “Harry.” I call out again, and my eyes are met with his dazzling emerald ones. I almost got lost, forgot how to talk looking at him.

My palms were sweaty with nervousness then. My heart beating out of my chest. I wanted more than anything to tell him everything. As a poet, it should have been easy to put my thoughts out in the open air. But they hadn’t sat within me for long enough to curate a straight forward answer.

How would I even manage to start on how beautiful I thought his brown hair was? Perfectly colored like milk chocolate treats that curled over his forehead. Or his toothy grin which pulled butterflies from the pit of my stomach and made me feel lighter? I couldn’t find just one thing to focus on. And the words that came out of my mouth tumbled out quickly.

“You’re my best friend.” I hoped that he would’ve been able to see how much love I held for him in my face. How even in the dim lighting of only the fireplace and the fading lamp in the corner, he could see how they sparkled just for him.

He pulled his hand away after that, clearing his throat and nodding. But he smiled so softly after that I didn’t see how his eyes welled up with tears. I only saw his perfectly pink lips and his rosy cheeks. For once, I wasn’t focused on his eyes, and I paid the price.

He never made pancakes for us after that night. Nor did he ever pick flowers from the fields or crack jokes until our stomachs hurt. My hand was never slotted between his and my head didn’t rest on top of his shoulders. He was colder, more distant. Quiet.

But the quiet grew old for us both. And the slipping away hurt more than anything I’d ever experienced. I was everyone else in his life. Fighting for a spot in the light so he would see me, smile at me, acknowledge me.

Part of me wondered why he never asked me to leave. To pack my bags and find another innocent man to love because he wouldn’t tolerate it anymore. But he never did. Harry hated being alone and I knew better than anyone else. I knew it because I was his best friend at some point. We shared the same breaths and drank from the same glasses. I wore his shirts and he used my hair clips. He kept me around not because he still wanted me, but because he still needed me. And the realization of it all hurts worse than the silence because it’s then I know that I’ve really lost him. It leaves me with the question, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’

I think back on that night when our world shifted on its axis and I go over every word that was said. I check for any signs of discomfort or anger and I find nothing. It plagues me with a new insecurity.

Maybe it wasn’t something I’d said, maybe it wasn’t something I’d done. Maybe the warmth from the champagne grew cold in his blood and the false euphoria from it all cleared from his peripheral vision and he realized that I was no longer enough. I was not what he wanted. The idea of his roommate becoming his only friend too pathetic for a man with such power.

Soon after, I stop putting up a fight. I stop fighting for a spot in his life and I stop trying to win back a man that was never mine. I figured at least if he could never be mine and I would never be his, at least I still got to see his pretty face everyday. And I could imagine that we never drifted.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost. The tears running down my cheeks are hot, burning my skin until my throat dully aches and my chest is red with flakes of nail polish and the dragging of my nails clawing at my chest.

I am sobbing, broken and tired. I dream of a life that is not as miserable. I dream of a life where I no longer doubt the things I love. Where I don’t have to question my friend’s loyalty.

He knocks on my door, leaning against it in only his flannel pants. He has tattoos that compliment his skin so well. He looks like a painting. I’m relieved to see him again. Even if it’s under these circumstances.

I wait for him to speak, even if it’s merely a mumble. Even if I cannot understand.

“Can you stop crying? I can’t sleep.” He requests. My lips part and I swear my lungs collapse within my chest. I can’t breathe and somehow I remain composed.

“Okay.” I say quietly, nodding along and trying to find his eyes. They look at the floor, and his face is contorted like it pained him to say that to me. Like it was against his will. But he doesn’t even look at me.

When he leaves, I collapse, shoulder shaking with rage, sadness, confusion instead of the contagious laughter that once rang out through the halls.

I decide then, July moon shining through the sash windows of my room that I couldn’t continue holding onto Harry. My heart still beats for him and my eyes still sparkled when his own lingered for just a moment longer on me, but I couldn’t like him.

Hatred doesn’t just happen. It creeps, seeps, saturates. It’s a pesky little thing that starts small until finally you can’t ignore how bothered you are. It’s vile and cruel. A poisonous little thing that no one is immune to. It’s a sad yet funny thing.

After that night, his selfish wishes turn to bitter comments which turn to vicious attacks at my confidence. And my resilience and devotion to silence, to ignore the cruelty of it all is worn thin. My bitten tongue is freed and I am betrayed by my own words. My own comments targeted at his deepest hurts. It’s a mutual hate between us, a mutual dislike.

We live within the same four walls, the same windows and creaky roof over our heads. We cook in the same kitchen and we sit on the same couch, but we cannot stand each other anymore. The house is no longer filled with love, and the warm heat turns to bitter cold. And yet, neither of us have the guts to leave.

We sit here, in a life thats so mean to us just because we are afraid of the loneliness that is surely to come with the other’s absence.

We are here, but we aren’t present. It makes me laugh, it makes me wonder.

Who could ever leave me? But who could stay?

The candles burned down to the floor, wax melting over the wood as the lights set a warm, homely mood for the night. The late December rush throughout the town turned to the few and far between searching for last minute supplies to ring in the new year. It’s peacefully still outside, and the dining room looks so nice I forget why the candles burn and our nicest plates are set out.

Harry insisted on having a small gathering with some of our friends to celebrate the new year before he went away for sometime for work. Being roommates, despite our lack of interest in establishing our own friendship, his friends become my friends and mine become his. It’s a fairly large group that was once two. But have now become so closely intertwined that it seems hard to differentiate who was friends with who first.

There was wine, pastas and breads. Hams and potatoes. Drinks and endless desserts. It felt nice, to have all those people we cared so deeply about chip in and help to create such a lovely meal for the few of us.

Hearing that first doorbell ring to see all of our friends stood proudly on our crooked doorstep made my heart flutter. Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Elin, Charlotte, Nyoh. All holding various foods to add to the never ending supply on the multiple tables set in a row.

“Harry! Y/n!” The enthusiasm from our friends seemed to lighten the mood, letting the heavy feeling of heated arguments and constant anger slip down my back and into the farthest part of my brain.

It was times like these where I’d forget how to hate. How to spread anger and disgust to someone who clearly showed none of it in return in these times. Here, Harry was talkative. Always plastering on a fake smile and wave.

He was good at pretending. And while the walls of the house had seen a different story, those around us were innocent, forever unknowing of how Harry constantly belittled me, bothered me. Of how I was no better. How my tongue was sharp and my words shot to kill.

Nobody minded the difference in height of the dinning room table against the kitchen table. How one was round and the other a rectangle. Both covered by one long table cloth. Nobody minded the soft music in the background or how the light wasn’t the brightest. The soft flickers never mentioned.

We let the candles burn until they had nothing left to give, and we ate until it was bare and our stomachs hurt. Here, I never felt like I was trapped. Here, I remembered why I came to live with Harry in the first place. And I was thankful. It was times like these I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. Cheeks sore and eyes crinkling. I would laugh at just about anything, trust anyone and agree with everything.

“When are you going to tell him?” An elbow to the ribs pulled my gaze from the end of the table, my smile dropping for only a moment at the sudden shock.

“Sorry?” I mumbled softly into Sarah’s ear. Her eyes glimmered with something mischievous, like she knew something that I didn’t. She licked her pink lips and looked briefly back to the end of the table. All the way over by the dining table, sat a few feet away and a couple inches higher, was Harry. Laughing and talking with Pauli and Elin about anything and everything. I couldn’t quite make it out over the soft chatter of Mitch and Charlotte and the clinking of forks on plates.

“Harry!” She called softly. When my eyebrows furrowed she rolled her eyes, sighing heavily.

“I don’t get it.” Forking another bite of vegetables into my mouth, I watched her fight for the right words to say. Her lips finally settling on the soft smile I knew very well.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. I know that look. Better than anyone. Thats how I look at Mitch.” She playfully nudged my shoulder. Did she believe that I held any romantic feelings for Harry? I couldn’t, it was impossible. Right?

His rude remarks and his mean demeanor. Sure, at one point my heart beat for the brunette with an infectious smile and shiny green eyes, but now it was a memory of the past. Another pretty face who had thrown away all of his charm and care and exchanged with unwavering cruelty.

“Oh, no. Sarah, I don’t think about him that way.” I tried to wave her off, trying to sound the least amount disgusted by her assumption. I couldn’t help but wonder why she thought that.

“I don’t believe you.” She sounded smug, crossing her hands on my thigh and giggling. “You don’t have to. I believe myself.” Brushing her off, I take another bite of any remaining scraps on my plate. Trying to avoid conversation.

“Come on, you seriously don’t see it?” She sounded exasperated now, even more so when I nodded carelessly. She was getting tired of my avoidance to the conversation, my disinterest in her false discovery. Still, the longer she pushed, the more I felt the heat rush to my face. The more my cheeks burned and my skin tingled.

“I’m serious, Sarah. I don’t look at him in anyway. He’s just my roommate. Nothing more, nothing less.” I lean back, volume brought down to a mere whisper with the dying laugher at the other end of the table.

“Well, he’s your friend at least, right?” The lump in my throat was unswallowable. With the growing tightness in my throat and the clamminess of my palms. I wanted nothing more than to slip away and pretend this never happened. So, I bite my tongue and nod, eyes flickering to Sarah while I do so. I pray that she doesn’t see the tears welling in the corners and how glossy they’ve gotten in such a short period of time.

“Yeah, he’s my best friend.” The lie stings, burning as it comes out. Partially because I hate lying to my dear Sarah, but mainly because at some point it was the truth.

Harry was my everything at one point in my life. He might as well have hung the damn moon and stars. I thought the world of him, wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrapped around mine all the damn time. And it killed me that we’d gotten so far away from that idea that I had to lie about even being acquainted with him.

“Word of advice.” She started, eyeing Harry carefully. My eyes remained glued to the table, fork wobbling between my pointer finger and my thumb. “Best friends don’t look at each other that way.” And when she finished what she wanted to say, I swear my heart just about stopped. All color draining from my face and my eyes rapidly blinking away the tears by now.

Setting my fork down, I ignore her playful smile and the nudge of her shoulder into mine. I look for another face to converse with, to make me begin to forget everything I was trying so desperately to escape. When I search the table, it seems like each person has found themselves in deep conversation with the other. All but one.

And his green eyes capture mine in a way I haven’t known in so long. I’d forgotten what it was like to be the center of his gaze. How thrilling it was. With my eyes, glossed over and heart beating through my chest, it seemed impossible for me to ever consider looking away. His chocolate brown curls and sweet pink lips in a gentle smile. It was consuming and alluring. Irresistible even.

A face that once disgusted me, shattered my heart, angered me and knocked me down with no air left to breathe seemed not all that frightening anymore. And the warmth that spread in my chest scared me more than anything.

I begin to realize, maybe Sarah was right. Maybe that was why I hated him so much. I didn’t hate Harry Styles. And thats why it hurt just that much more. I didn’t hate him at all, in fact. No, rather my poor heart couldn’t handle the heartbreak and deflected in the most malicious way possible. I missed my best friend.

“Y/n.” Sarahs voice pulls me from my haze, and my eyes are flickering over to hers quickly. Lips still parted and eyes still wide.

“You’re crying.” I hadn’t felt the salty heat dripping down my cheeks until she announced it. My skin too numb from embarrassment to even understand what was happening.

My tongue is tied, and my throat is killing me. I feel like I might vomit if I stay here any longer. I can’t be here any longer, I can’t do it. Not when I’ve just realized what I did. I feel what I felt all those months ago when Harry told me to stop crying. When he shut me out for good and became bitter. I feel all air leave my lungs and my knees wobbling. I am going to collapse.

“I just need air.” I say all too loudly, pushing out the chair clumsily and stepping back. The loud scratch of the wooden legs of the wooden floors turns heads and my heavy breathing tells me to get the hell out.

I pardon myself after that, waving off any concern from Sarah, and making sure nobody else saw my escape. Everyone’s still deep into conversation when I turn the corner. All but Sarah and Harry. But neither of them make a move to reach me. I let myself collapse on my bed, mascara running down my white sheets and back aching from how stiff I became at that table. I silently pray that I’ll sleep through the rest of winter.

When the dinner got cold and we’d all run out of things to say, we all look around and silently agree to part ways. It was nice to have some company, I enjoyed being around these people so much. My heart should have been full, yet it felt heavy and empty all at the same time. Littered with a guilt I wasn’t even sure was mine.

I’d seen the way she looked at me. Really looked at me. Glossed over eyes and a quivering lip. She was red with the rush of adrenaline in her blood. Anyone could see how quickly she began to breathe. It was like she was stuck, consumed by something so strong that it left her powerless, weak, crumbling quickly under an undetermined pressure. She started to cry, biting back a sob by biting harshly into her bottom lip, eyes shaking while she searched my face. I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Who had said what, and how I could help her.

I wanted to yell at whoever hurt her this bad. And the feeling of that in itself was unsettling. How my heart still longed to comfort, protect the heart of the girl who once shattered my own with her own words. More than that, I wanted to scream when nobody followed her when she ran. How nobody cared nearly enough about why she was so upset.

I couldn’t understand why I was so invested in her. Someone I was sworn to hate. Someone I had teased and fought for months and let hurt me constantly in retaliation.

But then again, we were no better than one another. We never were. Always saying too little and not opening up quite enough. Creating issues instead of solving problems. We were explosive, nobody could hurt me quite like she could and yet, I felt horrible that she was so upset.

Like the day I’d found her pacing restlessly across the floor. Skin blotchy and eyes puffy with tears. Throat sore with the violent sobs ripping through them. I’d wanted to hold her then too, but I was too bitter to do anything but tell her to quiet down. I felt the same guilt in my bones. And I make the same mistakes I made the first time. I watch her break down and sit with the uneasiness of it all.

Mitch lays a hand over my shoulder, his other arm wrapped around Sarah as he leads her through the door. His eyes look sad and tired. But his smile is genuine and filled with concern.

“Check on Y/n for us okay? Sarah thought it would be best to leave her be for now.” His hand left my shoulder and the door shut quickly after. Leaving me with the unbearable silence and loneliness I felt so frequently nowadays. It breaks down my walls and scares the shit out of me.

Maybe thats why I make my way to the kitchen, shuffling slowly along the floors and leaning slowly over the makeshift tables. A bottle of rouge in one hand, a pack of cigarettes in the other. I stuff them in my pocket and hold the bottle close to my side.

I’m slow, delaying the inevitable question. When I knock on the door, it’s quiet. Almost like I’m hoping that if it’s soft enough, she won’t hear and I can pretend she was ignoring me. But, she does hear me, and she calls out a raspy, muffled welcome, signaling for whoever was hidden behind the door to come through and take in her puffy eyes and wet cheeks.

My throat tightens when I smell her perfume. Something that I would have drowned in not so long ago. She has clothes thrown on a chair in the corner, the same one I sat in so many months ago. I’m tempted to push them off and just sit in the silence with her like we once enjoyed doing.

Her head is in her pillow and her arms are underneath her. She is unaware of who she has let in, but her silence and unmoving body tells me she’s lost all ability to care. I want to leave. I want to turn around and convince myself it was all a mistake. I’d checked on her and she was still alive and well. I’d done my part and I could go on guilt free and forget about how crushed she’d looked just hours before.

When I begin to turn on my heels and pray for this day to be over, I see something unforgettable. A small Polaroid from last year. Just weeks after she’d moved in and charmed me with her beauty and whit. She’s sat with her legs over my lap and my arms around her body. We couldn’t be any happier, and the memory makes my chest sting.

She still cared enough to keep up the old memories of us, even after all the fights and mean glares. Why did she have to keep the damn photo up?

Guilt consumes me once again, and I am faced with the sad woman in front of me, still in the same place as before and just as sad as before. My feet betray my mind, and soon I am stood beside her bedside table with a bottle of wine dangling between my pointer finger and my middle finger.

The glass knocks against her shoulder in a silent invitation. My eyes wordlessly asking her to follow. Her eyes are red, and her lips still shake. She looks completely torn apart, desperate and distraught. Disheveled even. But for some reason in my blurry head, all I can think about is how absolutely beautiful she is in the pale moonlight.

“Come on.” I ask her softly, offering her my hand. When she takes it, she’s nodding already. Trusting a man who deserves no second chances, no trust whatsoever for his cruelty and his inability to communicate. But she follows regardless.

I can’t help but realize how having her so close feels good.

He lights the cigarette for me and watches as I let it burn. My lips twitch as they wrap around the end, tasting the bitterness of its contents and the dry paper.

“How did we end up here?” I ask him, looking over the horizon. The waves are calming over here. They almost silence the ringing in my ears, despite the distance between where we sit, feet dangling over the empty pool edge and the large grass behind it.

He shrugs, snagging the cigarette from my hand delicately and taking a long drag from its end. We swap, my hands wrap around the neck of the wine bottle. It’s tinted green and nearly full.

“Unlucky people, I guess.” He looks at his feet. They dangle in the pool beside mine. You can see just how close we are in the turquoise tint. How the lights make us look less vibrant.

“I wouldn’t consider us unlucky.” I look at the sky, and I can feel his eyes on my face. It makes me swallow, how intense his gaze is. It almost makes it feel that much more real.

“Why’s that?” He asks, twisting the bud out on the cement. It stains the freshly cleaned grey stone an ashy black, but I bite my tongue.

“We had each other. Maybe we aren’t the best people, maybe we’re cruel, but I’d rather argue than live in solitude, right? Company can’t be bought. Even the most painful of it. That’s something real. Something without a price. And we’ve got it.” And it’s true. We fight and we throw shit. We stain the walls and rip the curtains. We start fires and try to blame the other. We make a mess and make amends. But a house isn’t a home without someone to share it with. And at least if we had to suffer to get there, we got it.

“Thats some of your poet shit.” He laughs sadly into the silence, looking at his feet. I laugh along, though I can tell he was only half joking. Then, I let the silence wash back over us. Forgetting how we almost had a full conversation.

“I’m not a bad person. I don’t know why I’m so mean.” He says sincerely. It’s sudden too. I can tell from the rawness in his voice. How his eyes tear up and his lips quiver. His voice cracks. Our feet hang off the edge of the backyard. It’s a quiet life. Even now. With our fights and all the fraud. But it’s never a lonely life, and we only have each other to thank for it.

I want to tell him I know, and I’m so sure of it. I’ve seen the real him, we might just not mesh together. But we once had, and that fact alone holds me back. He takes the lack of response and an opportunity to excuse himself. Pulling his body up by the arms and grunting through the sliding back door. I sit alone in the backyard for hours, body curling up into itself and layers of clothing becoming less than enough after some more time.

“I know.” I whisper into the silence. I know he’s not a bad person, I know it so well and I am so certain of it. I knew Harry once. He’s loyal and kind and the smartest man I’d ever met. And I miss knowing him like that so much.

I thought for a second tonight, I’d gotten part of him back. And maybe I had, but he left so soon I couldn’t really tell all that well. He’s left me back in the silence, wondering what happened to us, and what will happen to us. Why he came to get me, and why he even bothered to open up to me. But he never gives me the time to properly ask, even if I planned to.

I ring in the New Year alone.

The next morning he’s gone. Back to New York for his business in the big city and I am left to sit and think about what was said. A half empty bottle of wine stained with my red lipstick and glitter on the floor from old party poppers Charlotte and Elin had made sure to use before making their exit. I repeat his words.

He’s not a bad person, so why is he so mean? It’s best left unknown. Because if theres one thing I fear more than anything, it’s the realization of rejection.

Even from a man I hate so entirely, it consumes me. That I could not stand to be faced with the fact that Harry and I do not get along simply because we do not work and not because of some other underlying reason.

After all, we had it all. Gave each other everything the other had wanted. Food, shelter, company. There was really so explanation for the bitterness between us.

After all, all this time, despite his anger and hatred, he never left me to the wolves. And despite my heartbreak and sadness, I never left him with an empty home.

A wise man once said to never bite the hand that feeds it. Yet, here we are. Ripping skin from bone until we are left with nothing. We are the ungrateful, the selfish, the cruel. And we both believe that we are in the right.

I am so scared of rejection from this man who I claim to hate because he is the hand that feeds me and I am the hand to him.

We aren’t bad people, so why are we so mean? We recognize all we have to be grateful for, so why do we bite the hand that feeds us?

I guess the vulnerability of it all must have scared us. And while facing the storm, we did what all people do. We let fear consume us and we bite.

Somehow, through all of this. The realizations and the tears and wine and dusty ashes, I love him. Even with my teeth sinking into his skin and his own in mine, drawing blood, I love him. I love Harry Styles. He is my best friend and I am his. That is why I am scared and that is why it hurts so bad. Not because I simply missed him, but rather because my heart was devoted to a man who did not want it.

My fingers fumble over the pad on the phone. I type up his phone number by heart and let it ring. He answers quickly, still waiting for his plane at the airport.

“Y/n?” I can hear the bustling crowds around him and the loud engines taking off from other terminals. I imagine he is plugging one of his ears and mentally cursing the noise for making it so hard to hear.

“Come home.” My breathing is unstable, and my hands run through my hair so much I create new tangles by my neck.

“What? No, Y/n, I have to go. People are expecting me.” He starts to explain how important this is for his business. How it would be so much simpler to be there rather than over a computer screen.

“Fuck them, who cares! Harry, I need you, and I want you, please just listen to me for once. Don’t scoff, or…or roll your eyes or leave! Listen to me this once and if it’s not worth it to you, I promise you’ll never have to listen to me again. Please, it’s important.” I ramble all in one breath, endless pleas met with silence. I can feel the rejection coming, I can hear the way he chokes on a breath, debating what I said.

“Okay.” The phone goes dead with his promise to come home. With the continuous beeps, I slowly come to terms with what I’d just done. But I do not feel panicked, or scared. I feel lighter with the fact that I am about to tell the moody boy something I wished I told him a long time ago.

The door opens with a creak, keys jingling in his large palms. I’d spent the morning pacing the kitchen. Leaving a trail of confetti behind in my wake. I hadn’t cared enough to clean with my endless thoughts and extreme amounts of adrenaline.

“Y/n?” His voice was unsure when it rang out. As if he didn’t know what to expect. The door shut behind him not long before I came rushing around the corner, fingernails bitten to the skin and hangnails bleeding profusely.

“God, Y/n what the hell…” Taking my hands into his, he examined the redness of my irritated skin stained further with dry blood.

“I know.” I looked at him, and he looked back at me like I was crazy.

“What?” His thumbs bent over the backs of my palms, holding me in front of him.

“I know.” I breathed out again, looking at him with such sincerity, praying for him to understand. “You’re not a bad person, and I know it because I know you. Because we fight and we tease and we scream and cry. But I know you because once we didn’t do all of that. And I needed you to know that because it wasn’t fair of me to make you believe that to be true after everything you’ve done for me.” My voice shook with how vulnerable I felt myself becoming. Harry’s hands only tightened the further I explained.

“But what about all I’ve done to you. Y/n, I’ve been awful to you and I never even told you why.” He tried to argue. I shook my head, biting my lips.

“I haven’t been much better.” I smiled sadly. He shook his head back.

“No.”

“Yes.” I blinked hard, pushing back the tears that formed watching his own gather by his waterline.

“No, Y/n, I’ve been horrible. I’ve been mean.” He tried to push away everything I was trying to ignore.

“And so have I.” I tried harder to make him understand.

“But you only did it because I had. And for what?” He finally spoke, voice raised with so much desperation behind it, I froze under his touch.

“Because I loved you so much it drove me fucking insane? Because I still love you and I’m afraid if I can’t get you to hate me I’ll never be able to stop.” He was crying now, pleading with me to make me see his side of things. All I could do was shake my head.

“Harry I could never hate you.”

“But you could never love me.” He argued.

“Thats not true, Harry tell me you know that it couldn’t be true.” I rip my hands from his grip to rest them on his cheeks. I try to wipe away his tears, but his hands cover my wrists and pull them back down.

“How could I? You said it yourself. All those months ago, I told you. I held you close and I told you I loved you. You told me I was your best friend. You couldn’t even pretend!” Neither of us could tell if he was angry or just sad. Maybe both, but no amount of denial would calm him down.

“I didn’t have to, I still don’t have to pretend! Harry, I only said that because I was so fucking scared. Scared of us, of me, of you. Of losing you if it didn’t work. And I lost you anyways, I would’ve just said it if I knew I’d lose you like this.” Our chests bumped and his fingers slipped between mine.

“Y/n.” He whispered into the silence, over our heavy breathing and salty tears.

“I love you, and I miss you.” He didn’t say anything. I could feel him slipping away as soon as his response never came. Not a single word left to say between us. Not a single amount of energy left to fight.

And then he was kissing me. Hard and sweet. Like I was everything he’d ever wanted and more. Like he was hungry, needing more and more of something he had always wanted but could never have. And at the same time, it was soft and tender. Like he never wanted it to end. My back arched within the grip of his wandering hands and my fingers tangling in his curls. I swore I would never let him go.

But it was a swear I couldn’t keep, because air dwindled quickly and spit strung between our lips. Something I would usually gag at, but didn’t mind at the moment. His forehead against mine and arms gripping the fabric by my hips so tight if I moved he could have ripped it.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized in between his heaving breaths.

“Me too.” Looking at him, I could see the red staining his lips from the makeup I’d slept in. It made me laugh, which in result made him smile.

“What? What!” He laughed along cluelessly, letting me back away for a moment.

“You have something-“ I pointed again his mouth and smiled.

“Oh do I? Do I?” He kissed my cheek, smearing the remnants of our kiss across my cheek. “Still there?” He asked with a sly grin. Like he knew he was winning.

So I kissed him hard again, smearing red around his skin and his pink lips with so much love, there was no denying my feelings anymore. There was no hate left to give.

“Yeah, you do.” It was yet another fight, but not one I minded.

After all, thats what we did for so long, it was what we were good at. The teasing and the fighting. Only now it wasn’t bitter, it was playful. And we didn’t coexist with the sole purpose of it.

Because now I was his and he was mine. And this knowledge answered all my questions, all my doubts I’d had before about our relationship and our shared insecurities that led us down this scaring path.

Harry was my best friend, and I was his. And there was no love greater than that.

[or0ch1maru]

I don't know if you're still doing requests but ahhhh

Could you maybe do one with the Akatsuki where y/n and a member are having play banter/teasing eachother for a bit but then one says something too far/or mentioned something their sensitive about and it hurts the others feelings? .3.

I love your writing:3 especially Kisame stuff *giggles*

Here’s a big smooch *MWAHH😘*thank you so much love😩 I love kisa so much and I feel like he’s SUPER underrated.

Here’s a gift from me to you as I write about our big teddy bear🧸

•you’ve been with the akatsuki for about two years now, and they’ve become more than just comrades. They’re family

•and with family comes some hardships, arguing about something like bills, or missions

•then there are the times people bicker between each other like siblings; some that you’ve heard or been apart of that consisted of “move your fat ass Tobi, I wanna sit down” said by Deidara when he wanted a spot on the couch. Then there was the one time someone ate your Onigiri, you questioned everybody and couldn’t find out who the culprit was

•but for the other 95% of the time, you guys love each other and get along as best friends

•today is like any other day

•you find yourself looking for a snack in the kitchen

• “whatcha lookin’ for short stop?” Asks Kisame when he enters, watching you rummage around for something that catches your interest

•everybody, except for Kakuzu is short compared to Kisa, you just happened to be the shortest. Which of course Kisame finds hilarious, but also really adorable.

• “I need sustenance” you comment back lightly, pushing boxes of pancake mix out of the way in the closet to see what’s behind them

•you take a step back, your body hitting Kisame’s torso, you tilt your head, craning to look up at him as he starts shifting things around on the higher shelves. Helping you out

• “we’ve got chicken noodle soup, clam chowder. I’ll actually take that. We also have a few boxes of noodles up here with sauce if you don’t mind waiting a bit.” He lists off

• “hand me a box of noodles, don’t care which, we got pesto up there?” You ask, trying to see if there’s a jar of the green sauce. “Hm” Kisame hums out as he searches. “Ah, here we are. He grabs a container and brings it down to you. You take the jar of pesto and the noodles from him and slip out of the pantry

•as you put a pot of water on to boil you hear the snap of the can opening behind you. You watch as Kisame grabs a clean spoon from a drawer and digs into his soup

•you roll your eyes playfully, “do you not want to heat that up? Or at least put it in a bowl or something?” You ask. Most of the time when out on missions, all you guys bring are canned food, or things that are premade. Not really having much time for anything else.

•you’d think at home, most of your comrades would put a little more time into what they eat

•he shrugs, finishing up the last of the chowder by drinking it out of the can, tossing the spoon into the sink.

• “so uncivilized” you mutter playfully as you dump the noodles into the water. You put another pot on the stove, this one much smaller as you dump the pesto in it. Keeping it on Low so it can be nice and warm

• “I am civilized” Kisame responded, his tone cheerful as it is most of the time, especially when around you

• “hm, whatever you say” you joke, now stirring your pasta to keep the noodles from sticking to the bottom

• “list five times where I came off uncivilized” Kisa says from behind you, leaning up against the counters on the opposite side of the kitchen

• “I’m not gonna go into full detail but you remember that one time Pain decided to treat us to a nice dinner in that village nearby?” You start, holding back giggles when you remember how bad that dinner ended up

• “oh fuck” Kisame replies, trying and failing at holding in his laugh. “It wasn’t my fault their chairs weren’t up to the task of holding me. I didn’t mean to crash into the waiter!” He exclaims, holding his sides as he defends himself.

• as the two of you calm down from laughing , you dump the noodles into the strainer.

• “but but-..” Kisame starts, clearly getting ready to burst into laughter with whatever he’s going to say next. “You remember when we were visiting the Hidden Leaf and you snapped at the waitress because she spilled hot tea in your lap? She looked so embarrassed. Think it musta been her first day or something”

•you shake your head, “yea yea, get it oughta your system. I apologized to her” you mutter as you scoop noodles into a bowl and cover them evenly with your sauce. You mimic Kisame’s earlier movements and grab a fork from the same drawer before haphazardly blowing on a mouthful of noodles

•you shove the still hot food into your mouth, puffing your cheeks out as it burns your tongue. You turn away and swallow, not wanting Kisa to see how ridiculous you just looked as you burned your mouth

• “then remeber when we had that one mission where it was you, Konan, me, and Itachi?” He asks, small giggles slipping between his lips

• “you and Konan were both irritable as fuck because of your periods syncing up or some shit like that?” You freeze, you tried pushing that out of your head. Mid travel, Kisame had noticed that you got blood on your cloak, and he thought it was from the enemy you had taken out an hour prior. He even tried using an old rag to scrub it out for you

•it wasn’t until he saw the look of horror and embarrassment on your face that he knew he was missing out on something

• “I can still remember the face you made. Oh my fuck, it was so funny” Kisame blurbs out, and your face heats up with embarrassment. You and Konan sent Itachi and Kisame off ahead of you two while Konan gave you a spare tampon since you had bled through the one you were wearing.

•it definitely wasn’t one of your proudest moments but you gotta do what you gotta do

•luckily your back is still turned towards your large comrade, giving you a chance to blink away the tears that are now burning your eyes, threatening to fall

•you sniffle, bringing your sleeve up to wipe them away quickly. Acting like you got food on your face. But even you know, the effort is futile

•Kisame is always able to pick up on mood swings(before they even happen), can hear when one’s heart rate changes, and you’re pretty sure he knows whenever you or Konan are ovulating(only because he’s always distant during that time)

• “ah shit…” you hear Kisame mutter quietly. You go to turn, ready to act like you’re fine, putting on a brave face when you’re met with Kisame’s torso right in front of you

• “I realize now what happened. I’m sorry” Kisa says from above you. Your cheeks flush and you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your slight embarrassment

•you feel two large hands on your back, pulling you towards him until your face is buried in his chest. The scent of his cologne filling your nose. Something about that and being wrapped up in his arms is soothing.

• “it’s ’Kay” you mutter into his chest, your words coming out muffled.

•something about how you sounded causes both you and Kisame to burst out into another laughing fit.

•Kisame bends down to hug you tighter, causing your giggles to hitch, and come out sounding broken, which in turn, make you two laugh even harder. Your sides hurt, and you know his must too

• “if you-ever-bring that story up again, I will kill you” you threaten playfully from his chest.

• “I’ll hold you to that short stop”

(Guys guys! Who here would like a Kisame x ovulating reader blurb?!?! Because it came to me when I was writing this and omg)

[adarkrainbow]

Romanian witches: Muma Padurii

(Note: I unfortunately cannot add the accents needed for the writing of those names since my keyboard is not equiped. So know that there are accents missing)

I originally made a post about one Romanian fairytale character... which turned into a post about two fairytale characters... which became a post about three fairytale characters... So ultimately I decided to split this post into a whole series because it was getting too big. I want to explore with you three characters tied together in Romanian folklore and all present within Romanian fairytales, but each fascinating in their own right. And I want to begin with the first of these ladies... Muma Padurii.

Muma Padurii means "The Forest Mom", or "The Mother of the Forest" (Muma is an archaic form of "mom").

In fairytales, Muma Padurii is an antagonist. She is an embodiment of the wicked witch, or rather of the hag. She is a very old and very ugly woman (so ugly the expression "You look like Muma padurii" is an insult) who lives all alone in a little, dark and scary house in the depths of the woods. She is not a normal woman: she is a witch gifted with various supernatural powers (including shapeshifting), and she is also an ogress who loves to eat children. It is as a children-predator that she usually appears within Romanian fairytales, luring kids to her house to kill and cook them. One of the most famous Muma Padurii fairytales is the Romanian version of "Hansel and Gretel", which mostly differs by A) having the witch named B) the house not being made of candy and C) the genders are reversed (here it is the girl that is to be boiled alive into a soup, while it is the boy that pushes the hag into the oven).

But the thing with Muma Padurii is that, in a similar way to Frau Holle, she is an entity that was "split" between fairytales and legends. There is a Muma Padurii of folktales who is the evil hag I presented above, but there is also a Muma Padurii of beliefs and legends which is quite different and much more neutral.

This Muma Padurii is still an old, ugly, shapeshifting witch - but she is presented as amoral rather than wicked, with a personality mixing a fairy-like mischieviousness and a pure insanity. The name "Muma Padurii" is also very revealing... In the fairytales this name is used in the typical motif of the witch/hag as the "false mother" or "anti-mother", but in the Romanian mythology, this name indicates what Muma Padurii is. She is the Mother of the Forest, as in the spirit of the forest. Her main role, and the reason for her hostility towards humankind, is her function as the guardian of the woods. She still lives in a remote and hidden location - but it is not always a little cabin, it can just be a tree, and it is usually within a virgin-woodland at the heart of the forest, untouched by human hands. She still brews potions - but they are good potions, that she uses to heal injured animals and sick trees. For Muma Padurii always keeps the forest alive. She does attack humans - but only those who destroy the fauna and flora, or who trespass within forbidden areas where only wild things are supposed to be. This was why those that entered the woods were warned to not go too far and to respect what surrounded them: else Muma Padurii would at best scare them away, at worst drive them to insanity with her magic. As such, it was forbidden to pick up certain wild fruits and berries in the forest during certain times of the year - they were for the animals to replenish their strength, and Mama Padurii made sure this rule was followed. In the most extreme cases she would kill the trespassers and devour their corpses like a wild animal - a bogey-version of Muma Padurii that explains her role as a child-eating crone in fairytales...

Muma Padurii is present all across Romania, sometimes in local variations (Padureanca, Muma Huciului), and this explains why there are so many different incarnations of her. Sometimes she is an angry ghost of the woods, a vengeful spirit which can be heard crying among the trees for all the plants that mankind destroyed, and if a house built near the forest isn't carefully locked up at night, she will enter in them at midnight and kill all those inside... Other times she is depicted as a young and beautiful fairy of light, who will be kind and helpful to children but will trick adults into being lost, having their body paralyzed or dying in various ways. This specific idea of the "young faced Muma Padurii" is notably present in another folktale/fairytale, where it is said that the Muma Padurii is a witch that needs to eat human hearts to keep herself young and alive - as such she takes on the appearance of a beautiful woman to lure young men into the woods, but once they are isolated enough she turns into a giant monster and rips their hearts away.

Her link to the forest is highlighted by how she is often said to disguise herself as a tree, to be a part-tree woman, or a hag clothed in moss (she also can appear as a cow, a horse or an ox) ; her function as a "Romanian fairy" is also highlighted by how in various legends she either makes babies sick, or replaces them by changelings (and as such there were several folk-spells and rituals Romanian country-folks used to protect their babies from the Forest-Mom). But mostly Muma Padurii stays an embodiment of the woods in what they have of dangerous and scary. She can be kind and helpful - but only towards the "innocent", animals, plants and (sometimes) children. However she stays an ancient woman of the woods, the mistress of the wild animals, the embodiment of a state of non-civilizations, and as such she is the fright that drives one mad and the savage force that will kill and eat men. And even then, the fauna and flora itself is not always escaping her wrath - some records say that Mama Padurii knows the name of every tree of the forest, but that she can get angry at some and curse them to fall either by the woodsman's axe or by lightning.

The last interesting difference between the fairytale Muma and the legendary Muma is that, while the fairytale Muma is usually a lonely entity, in beliefs Muma Padurii was part of a large family. Sometimes Muma Padurii herself was multiplied into several "Muma" - there was notably a belief about many of them sometimes visiting the cabins of those that lived near the woods, asking to have their hair brushed and cleaned, with a comb and butter (which isn't an easy feat since she had her hair dirty, tangled in snake-like braids and so long it touches the floor). Anyone who agreed to the task and performed it well could receive a wish from the Mother of the Woods - but the rule was that they could only pronounce three words in total as long as she was here, if a fourth was pronounced, she would take your voice and leave you mute. Sometimes Muma Padurii was given a male counterpart of companion called "The Father of the Forests", or the "Woods Papa".

Muma Padurii was also said to have several sons, which were the spirits of the woods and/or of the night (going by names such as Decuseara, Zorila, Murgila, Mamornito or "Midnight"). She is also linked to a set of female forest spirits known as the Fata Padurii (Fata being of course linked to the "fairies", "fées", "fatum" - but here it is to be understood as "The Daughters of the Forest", "The Girls of the Woods, and fittingly they are said to be the daughters of Muma Padurii) ; and to an entity I personaly do not know much about, "Mosul Codruilui" (she is said to be her mother, and "Mosul" means "old woman")

Finally, there was a certain Christianization of the Muma, as some tales started saying her task as a guardian of the forest was given to her by God, and a modern attempt at explaining how she could be such an ambiguous entity, benevolent and malevolent at the same time: most modern storytellers highlight how protective she is of the fauna and flora, and how she was said to wail and cry for the destroyed wood, to explain her "transformation" as her becoming more and more bitter, and angrier and fuller of hate the more humans destroyed her domain, harmed her trees and wounded her "children". A true ecological fable.

Some people point out that Muma Padurii could be a "Romanian equivalent" of the Russian Baba-Yaga which is... not quite exact and not quite true. The two characters seem to derive from a same old "forest mother-goddess" but there are too many differences between Muma Padurii and Baba-Yaga for them to be consideed one and the same. There is however a interesting link between the two, which will be the subject of my next post... about Baba Cloantza.

[lukkabloom]

Fun facts abt residents according to Ikevamp Radio (ヴァンなま) Part 2

Continuing with the Ikevamp radio findings (& some stuff w/the VAs) I have episodes 4-7 this time!!! (also pls take this with a grain of salt bc idk how much of this is canon according to Cybird)

Episode 4: It’s just Vincent and Sebas’s VAs!!

Morishi emphasizes that he’s a special guest, not a permanent part of the show, Makki says that there should prob be only one MC. They settle on Morishi being a guest-regular

ANYWAYS ONTO THE BATH SEGMENT

Vincent’s learning to sing the song Sebas taught Leo in episode 1 & 3 (for anyone curious, the original song is called Ii yu dana [いい湯だな] by the Drifters [ザドリフターズ] and it was a song the group sung at the end of their TV show/stage from the 70s–late 90s. Sebas knowing that song would mean he was alive during this time period)

Sebas hears him hum, Vincent is embarrassed, telling him to forget he ever saw him singing

During the day, Vincent saw Sebas cutting and sorting the gardens, to which Sebas references Nippon Mukashi Banashi (Folktales of Japan) where so many Japanese folktales start with a character cutting grass/weeds

Vincent recalls that Theo called MC “hondje” and “dog”, worries that she might be offended at those names

Sebas reassures him that MC has a strong spirit, and shouldn’t worry abt her much

Sebas comments that while Vincent and Theo are siblings, they have completely different personalities

Vincent answers that many people have stated this, wonders what he has to do to make others believe that they are brothers

Sebas has Vincent do impressions of Theo, starting w/Vincent calling Sebas “hondje” but Vincent just calls him “wanchan” (doggy/puppy) instead

Sebas makes a weird/loud noise, saying that that’s just an angel playing with a puppy (the part where Sebas loses his sanity. Actually he’s losing more of it as the episodes continue)

Vincent relents, quietly mumbling “hey, hondje” to Sebas

Sebas says he’s so close, just needs to be a bit more intimidating

Vincent repeats “hey, hondje” with more determination, Sebas replies “I have received Master Vincent’s ‘hey hondje!!!!’” (Sebas is crazy I swear)

Sebas pressures Vincent to say “I will make you my dog,” like Theo, to which Vincent questions if Theo has ever said that

Sebas quickly answers yes, forcing Vincent to say the phrase but worded more respectfully “I will make you my dog, okay?” (peer pressure is never okay, ESPECIALLY concerning Vincent)

Sebas is satisfied with the result, saying that the two brothers are really related

(I LEGIT DON’T KNOW WHAT’S WITH THIS EPISODE)

Sebas confesses that he just wants to see Vincent as a sadist and Vincent just sweat-drops

In this episode’s “Can you tell me… your name?” segment… (aka my fav part of the livestream—lol it’s not even the skit in the thermae) 

Sebas’s chosen line was “I’ve boiled the pumpkin” (this was done during Halloween, that’s what’s with the pumpkin). There were a lot of food-related names, so Sebas would say “Cucumber, I’ve boiled the pumpkin” or “Miso soup, I’ve boiled the pumpkin” and many others (mushroom, pig, tomato, sweet potato, radish, shiitake, hanpen)

There was also one in which Morishi said “Aramaki, I’ve boiled the pumpkin” to which Makki replied “thank you,” and another with “Vincent, I’ve boiled the pumpkin”

Episode 5: feat. Theo’s VA Sato Hisanori & Earl Rose (ローズ伯爵)

First episode where there is video in the livestream (it was previously just audio)

(I love watching VAs play their roles so this episode is prob one of my favs)

Sato realizes what kind of crazy show this is when he has to say “konvampire” instead of “konbanwa” (good evening) as a greeting. I feel like every guest other than Tsuda has said this (at least implied) but Sato just straight up says this

Sato calls Makki “nii-san” (big brother) when they first greet each other, referencing their roles as Vincent and Theo (also, fun fact, the two VAs are born in the same month of the same year)

Sato asks the viewers who they like the most out of Vincent, Theo, and Sebas. The viewers overwhelm them with calls of “Vincent!!!”

Sato asks for them to stop, changing questions, asking the viewers who wears the best clothes out of three (Makki, Morishi, and Sato). The viewers still say Makki, though there are some saying Sato

Earl Rose is a guest for this episode. He is the lord (read: owner) of the vampire cafe in Ginza. (he’s basically here to promote the ikevamp collab w/his Vampire Cafe) Sato looks freaked out/uncomfortable by the earl. The three eat the collab foods and drinks provided (it looks pretty good tbh)

NOW ONTO THE “I LOVE YU” SEGMENT

Vincent sinks down to his shoulders in the waters, Theo can’t find him for a bit

Theo and Vincent enjoy spending time w/each other

Sebas can hold his breath underwater (in a hot bath) for 5 min. He did so to not interrupt the two brothers’ conversation (Sebas becoming more and more ooc)

Vincent stated that his previous record was 3 min 46 sec. Sebas said that “as a butler of this mansion, I shall keep on improving” (Theo doesn’t know what the heck is happening, but Vincent seems to be enjoying himself so he let’s go)

Vincent & Theo have never fought (as expected of such bros. Now that I’m rereading this I’m sure this is reinforced in various routes so maybe I don’t need this info)

Sebas (who tries to create some tea---figuratively) asks Vincent what he would do if his pancakes were covered by tons of syrup by Theo, to which Vincent replies “I will give those pancakes to Theo.”

Sebas switches over to Theo, asking him what he will do if Vincent steals his syrup before he can eat the pancakes. Theo answers “Easy. I’ll give the pancakes to my brother. It would mean that he wanted to eat pancakes so badly that he would steal the syrup”

There’s around 2-3 times where Theo almost gets angry at Sebas and Vincent has to stop him (pats his head and stuff)

Theo asks why Sebas is acting weird, to which Vincent believes its bc he’s working too hard, so they should help him out & fulfill his hopes/wishes

Sebas has a voice recorder??? Theo doesn’t know what it is

Theo doesn’t approve being recorded, but Sebas goes to Vincent for protection, who calms Theo

OK I don't talk about this segment much but for the first time since the episodes’ release, there was a tie in the votes in the drawing segment (van Gogh’s drawing section) between Morishi and Makki. Usually, they’ll give the best voted piece to a randomly selected winner w/the VA’s signature, but instead of giving out both pictures, they gave out Makki’s art piece (bc he’s van Gogh lol)

(they didn’t do the “Can you tell me…your name?” segment this episode, but this episode is legendary in my mind!!! So funny and entertaining)

Episode 6: No special guests!! Just Sebas and Vincent

Makki finally lets the viewers choose the official position of Morishi (guest, regular-guest, regular, or dyungyun). He’s officially the dyungyun (でゅんぎゅん) It’s an exclamatory phrase meaning exciting/heart-beating I think… I’ve been watching 6 episodes of the radio but I still don’t know what that phrase means exactly

Welcome to another episode of Sebas slowly losing his sanity! In today’s “I love yu” segment, Sebas makes his appearance by jumping into the baths!!!

Apparently Sebas has an urge to swim when he sees the large baths, and even is a first-class swimmer (スイミング一級) I think it’s a scale on how great he is at swimming, and it would mean he’s pretty good

Vincent has also seen him swim butterfly (idk if it's in the baths or in a pool but imagining Sebas swimming butterfly in the hot baths is amusing)

Vincent likes eating the motsunabe (もつ鍋), a type of hotpot that Sebas made

As an adult, Vincent spends his Christmas season painting, but as a child, he would spend time w/Theo baking cakes, decorating trees, or playing in the snow

One time, Theo cried when a snowball hit him in the face

The two decide to do yaminabe (闇鍋) w/the residents. It is when you darken the room, and anyone can put anything in the hot pot. Vincent’s curious what the others will decide to put in the hot pot.

They created a new segment in the show called “Vanmana Involuntary Awards 2017” (ヴァンなま勝手にアワード) where they review the year 2017 with things related to Ikevamp and the radio. The first award is the most popular phrase which ended up being voted as “dyungyun”. The second is deciding on the best artwork produced in the “van Gogh’s drawing section” with the winning piece being a drawing by Makki titled “A woman being kabedon’d by an Ikemen in a dark room” (yes that’s the title). The third is voting on what the viewers want ikevamp to do in the future (ex. Voice drama CDs, more livestreams, raiding Ikesen, etc.) with the winning choice being to raid Ikesen. And in turn, it is implied that Ikesen would raid Ikevamp. The last is asking the viewers if there has been any change (physically, mentally, emotionally) ever since they started watching the radio, with the most votes on the viewers being more interested in Morishin and Makki.

AND of course, my fav segment “Can you tell me… your name?” Vincent’s chosen line was very nice “Christmas? I don’t need anything. All I want is (y/n) alone.” 

BUT Sebas’s chosen line is (drumroll please…) “(y/n), did you write your New Year’s greeting card?” and the first name he called out was “Santa-san, did you write your New Year’s greeting card?” AND I CAN’T STOP LAUGHING

Other names used were reindeer, postbox, and dyungyun (most were legit names tho)

They also did a third phrase where after saying (y/n), Sebas and Vincent will say a line, and I guess the staff felt bad for Sebas or smth bc he has legit lines in all of the available options. It was decided that Vincent would say “(y/n), I love you,” (大好きだよ) and Sebas would say “I love you” (愛していますよ) after Vincent (Both mean the same thing, just worded differently. Vincent's "Daisukidayo" would prob be closer to "I like you" meanwhile Sebas's "Aishitemasuyo" would be "I love you" if I were to be very specific)

I thought people would submit serious names (many did) but there were names like ice, carbonara, butter, napolitan (many varieties of pasta). There was also Rose and the two VAs were like “Earl Rose??? You watch this???"

Episode 7: feat. Comte’s VA Horie Kazuma

OMG Comte’s VA has such a sexy cool voice I can’t

So I didn’t know this, but you can talk to Vincent on Amazon Alexa?? I don’t have one so idk if it still works but apparently it’s called “Vincent’s time” (フィンセントの時間) and Vincent can tell you the time of day and you can talk to him and stuff??

Video showing Vincent's Time here part 1 part 2 part 3

It’s so funny how similar Horie is to Comte bc Makki and Morishin will be loud and talkative while Horie just watches over the scene like a parent

ANYWAYS for the thermae skit…

It’s rare for the others to meet Comte in the thermae since Comte baths at a later time than the others

The topic of today’s thermae episode is mainly about the construction they have in the baths (prob in another part of it??) Sebas came back running after looking at it, Comte and Sebas told Vincent not to worry about it (WHAT IS HAPPENING OVER THERE??? we'll never know...)

Vincent wants to paint scenes he’s never seen so he’d like to go out to various places

After living for so long, Comte said he’s starting to lose the concept on the importance of New Year’s and New Year’s resolutions (this episode was broadcast on Jan of 2018)

Vincent says that Comte’s like a father, to which he replies, “Haha, I’m not like a father. When you call me something as young as a ‘father,’ it makes me feel embarrassed. I’m probably way older than you two think I am”

Sebas replies, “Oh, of course. None of us know how old Comte actually is”

Comte continues, “It’s rude to ask a vampire their age. Besides, men like to keep their secrets hidden.” To which Sebas is like “As expected of le Comte. That is admirable.”

According to Sebas, Jean has a breast fetish?? Sebas apparently knows nothing else abt Jean other than that single fact

So… the “Can you tell me… your name?” is *chef’s kiss* amazing as usual

Comte’s line was “(y/n), I won’t let you go” and for one of the names, he said “Aramaki, I won’t let you go” & you can tell the staff were laughing. 

So Sebas… his chosen line was “(y/n), isn’t this bed a bit hard?”

There was “Comte, isn’t this bed a bit hard?” and Horie replies “No,” in his Comte voice & it’s amazing. There’s also “Aramaki, isn’t this bed a bit hard?” and Makki replies “Yup.”

Other notable names include bed, obachan (Auntie), Morishima (yes the VA’s asking himself) and employee (店員さん)

Also Morishi does voice-percussion at the end of the stream and… I’ll just say it’s interesting :))

(Also the updates will prob be daily since I've watched & have the next couple parts written already. I just have to watch the last couple & write about it, which should be done soon)

[polutrope]

I'd love to see Fingon (with Mae if that's your jam, with anyone else if not) for hooking up for Christmas 🥺 please?

Thank you! While this was not officially a prompt (it was New Year's Eve haha), I decided it should be. I also added the tropical vacation prompt because no one sent it and I wanted to write it😁. ~1.2k words, rated a soft M, to be safe. Posting these to AO3, here. Prompt list (prompts closed). Beleria Cast of Characters Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a lovely December day to all!

Maedhros woke to the trickle of water and the twitter of birds. Odd. He did not remember putting sleep sounds on last night. Maybe Fingon had? It must be early, still: his alarm hadn’t gone off. He pressed his eyes shut, clinging to sleep, and rolled over. God, it was hot! If Fingon had left the heat on…

“Time to get up!” Fingon’s voice chirped, stirring him from the haze of sleep.

“Why’s it s’ hot,” he mumbled. Registering that Fingon’s voice was coming from somewhere else, Maedhros claimed the bed luxuriously, splaying his limbs over crisp sheets, nuzzling his toes into the plush mattress.

Wait. This wasn’t his bed. His eyes shot open and he found himself in a room bathed in sunlight. Room was a generous assessment: it was more of a hut, walled by nothing but wire mesh and the thick jungle beyond.

Right. They were in Hyarmen. They’d arrived late last night, Maedhros in a fog after fourteen hours of travelling with barely a wink of sleep (he was definitely paying the upgrade for the extra legroom on the return flight – thinking he could do without was pure hubris).

The sound of Fingon’s laugh startled him from his shock. “Forgot we weren’t home?”

Maedhros hefted himself onto his elbows and blinked several times. His partner stood (shirtless) at a counter that cut the small space in two. He was pouring boiling water into a French press and smiling to himself.

“Morning,” said Fingon. “How you feeling? You slept almost twelve hours.”

Maedhros dragged his hands down his face. “And yet I still feel tired,” he groused.

“Good thing we have absolutely nothing to do,” Fingon said. “Though I was thinking it would be nice to go to the waterfall, and maybe snorkelling on the way back, and there’s apparently a great beach for sunset—”

“Sh, sh,” said Maedhros. “Coffee. Then plans.”

“You got it,” said Fingon, but Maedhros could tell it was taking great effort to keep a lid on his chatter because he started humming to himself as he took stock of the contents of their accommodation and placed the complimentary packets of tea and coffee in a prominent location where they would not forget to use them. Maedhros watched him with a swell of affection.

In his thirty-six years of life, Maedhros had never spent Yule without his family. A prickle of guilt intruded on his mellow mood at this thought. He imagined what they would be up to: Celegorm and Caranthir shamelessly sprawled on the large couch, Huan between them, criticising a recent blockbuster or offering uninformed opinions on the latest international relations issue, which Fëanor would chime in on every time he passed through the room, sprinkling his shrewd insights into the conversation like a pinch of salt in flavourless soup.

Celebrimbor would be in the basement reading while Amrod and Amras played video games on the couch across from him, and Curufin would be upstairs in the twins’ old bedroom wrapping presents, spending hours meticulously cutting and folding, a work of art that most of the gifts’ recipients would tear apart in only a few hours.

Nerdanel and Maglor would be in the kitchen, blasting carols and singing along, drinking endless cups of tea and getting gradually sillier as they baked batch after batch of cookies and prepped the components of the massive dinner spread.

If Maedhros were there, he would be drifting between all of them, often just observing. Later in the afternoon, it was tradition for him and Fëanor to take a walk together, the one time a year when they put work and the rest of the family aside to unburden themselves of personal stressors, complain in confidence, and share a private joke or two. How much each was willing to share fluctuated over the years but recently they had been more open with each other.

That was largely why Maedhros had dared to reveal, back in August, that he was considering spending this year away from home. With Fingon. Under the weight of the Finvesen family group chat’s subsequent silence, Maedhros had nearly buckled and withdrawn his statement. “Give me your phone,” Fingon had said, then stashed it away and dragged Maedhros on a four-hour hike. When they got back, there was a message from Fëanor: “That sounds like a lovely time,” followed by a series of emojis (some obviously supportive, others more ambiguous) from his brothers.

Maedhros had nearly wept. His eyes watered now, remembering it, when Fingon nudged a mug of coffee into his hand and flopped into bed beside him.

Fingon. He’d never spent Yule with Fingon.

“Thanks,” said Maedhros.

“How are you doing?” Fingon asked.

Maedhros shrugged and puffed a breath of air on his coffee. “It’s weird. Being here.”

“Yeah,” said Fingon. “It is a bit, for me too.” Then he watched Maedhros from the corner of his eye with a smirk.

“What’s that face?” Maedhros asked.

“I think you need to be distracted.” Fingon huffed a laugh, causing the coffee held to his lips to come dangerously close to overflowing its vessel.

“Yeah, I know,” said Maedhros, “you want to go swimming, and snorkelling, and—”

“No, no. I have a different idea now. I was gonna save it for tonight but…” Fingon grinned and Maedhros could see evidence of what he had in mind through his boxer shorts.

Maedhros took a sip of coffee and sank lower into the bed. “Fine. But I’m showering first, I feel disgusting.”

“Great, that’ll give me time to get ready.”

Ready for what? Maedhros eyed him warily but received no further explanation.

*

“What… when did you get that?” Maedhros sputtered when he emerged from his shower.

Fingon leaned languidly against a wood beam in the centre of the room wearing a red satin robe fringed with white faux fur. It was tied loosely around his waist, accentuating the curve of his butt while exposing a slice of one well-muscled leg.

“Happy Yule,” Fingon husked in his most seductive voice, then laughed. Without disturbing his pose, he asked, “Is it totally ridiculous?”

“Um.” Maedhros swallowed the lump rising in his throat. “Yeah, I mean, it’s…” Damn it if Fingon couldn’t make anything look sexy. “Fuck it.”

In two long strides he had his hands on Fingon’s waist and yanked him flush against his hips. While they kissed, Maedhros slipped his hands under the hem of the robe, exploring the plane of Fingon’s chest, then dropping lower to grope his ass.

Beyond the roar of blood in his ears, thunder clapped in the distance. By the time Maedhros had Fingon spread out on the bed, a deluge of rain drummed on the hut’s tin roof, almost loud enough to drown out the appreciative babble and groans tumbling involuntarily from Maedhros’ lips.

When it was over and they lay breathless, struggling to cool off in the humidity, Fingon asked, “So, does this still feel weird?”

Maedhros’ head lolled to the side to look at him. “Despite your best efforts to make it weird with that costume,” he grazed his knuckles over Fingon’s hip, “no. No, it does not feel weird.”

[sgiandubh]

Do you have any secret tips for restaurants or cafés for a trip to Paris?

Dear Paris Anon,

I am happy and amused you ask me this question. Happy, because I have been calling Paris home for six years: that means there are places where I was madly kissing a beautiful (and cruel) boy from Bastia, places where I walked at night drunk as a boiled owl with people who are still in my life, places where I regularly went shopping or having an endless coffee with friends and places I was entrusted with, like precious jewels. Amused, because to be honest, Paris is probably the last French destination I could think of for an enjoyable week-end en amoureux (I suppose you want to go as a couple?), right now: it is overpriced as hell (the Olympics are round the corner), dirty and seedy (I was shocked, last time I visited and Manu Macron, my old acquaintance of yore, spoke about parking all the homeless outside of town during the Games 'for aesthetic reasons' - the boy never had a sense of humor, trust me on this one).

I shall give you 5 restaurants and 5 cafés (oh God, why didn't you ask me about Bangkok, instead?). Many of them are on the Left Bank (all of my addresses were there, simply because the closer to the university, the better).

Five restaurants: as it happens in Rome (where the gap is truly tragic), I will try and recommend places where locals go. You will find a menu in English everywhere, but at least try the holy trinity of bonjour, l'addition (the check) et merci. All the Parisian waiters are sourer than the Politburo and insolent as highway robbers, but do not be deterred by their manners. Order away.

Le Relais de Venise - son entrecôte (271 Bd Pereire, 75017). It is not in the center. They do not take reservations. You will be met with a long line of people patiently waiting (Seinfeld style) to get in. They have a minimal set menu (which is always a very good sign: https://relaisdevenise.com/menus/set-menu.php). The waitresses are kind and dressed like 1920's maids. It will be the damn best entrecôte-frites you've ever had (their sauce is a secret). Nothing changed there since 1959. Double check opening times and plan accordingly: you will need a taxi and plenty of time ahead. Almost a bargain for its stellar performance. The London one is a sad spin off.

Le Soufflé (36 rue du Mont Thabor, 75001). An original choice, but oh so good! They only cook soufflés (not exactly a pudding, but a pudding angels must have on a daily basis). Very reasonably priced for Paris (set menus at 40 and 55 euros - https://www.lesouffle.fr/bienvenue/home/menu/). If you want to eat à la carte, I recommend le soufflé Henri IV (cheese soufflé with chicken & mushrooms sauce) : it is heaven.

La Jacobine (59-61 Rue Saint-André des Arts, 75006). You will find tourists in this one, it is always full. Service is impeccable. Do not bother with Le Procope round the corner: it used to be one of my haunts, but this is over. The best soupe à l'oignon (onion soup, notoriously hard to cook) I ever had (yes, they still add white wine!). I would also recommend the magret de canard sauce aux cèpes (duck breast with a porcini mushrooms sauce). I could not find a decent menu, but that should give you an idea - they don't have a website (https://eater.space/la-jacobine). Very reasonably priced, too - and very, very good.

Chez Julien (1, rue du Pont Louis-Philippe, 75004 Paris). This is one of my mum's favorites. It is open only in the evenings, but it is an excellent choice if you want to call it a night, because it has service continu (all night long, wow!). It is more expensive - this is, after all, the Right Bank, so expect prices to go drastically up. This is the only option serving wonderful breakfasts, so I beg you: have breakfast in town at least once, Paris hotels tend to do it on the sad and sorry side (https://www.chezjulien.paris/en/home#menu-en). Pair anything you pick with a glass of Pouilly fumé white wine (it goes with anything, it is that magically good).

Money is no object? Entice the guy to take you at (I am torn, here, to be honest) La Tour d'Argent (19 Quai de la Tournelle, 75005). It is very expensive (like VERY), but it is worth every penny (https://tourdargent.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/LTDA-SEPTEMBRE-EN.pdf). You must (it's an order!) order the canard au sang (you will find it on the menu under the entry Duckling Frédéric Delair and it is outrageously priced). But you will never have a chance to see the table show anywhere else (it is served in two times: first the fillet and then the legs and it uses a sort of Medieval contraption, to get the blood out for the sauce) - just a specialty from Normandy, you will not find in Rouen anymore. It is divine. They have been there since 1583. What are you waiting for? (for a less break the bank option, try Le Grand Véfour, near the Louvre - google it, it will take forever to explain why).

Four cafés and a salon de thé (tea parlor) : all are haunts of mine. In every single one of them something very personal happened to me. Consider yourself lucky. On a more practical side, all of them double as excellent lunch options, for a fraction of what you would spend in a restaurant. :)

Chez Carette (4 Pl. du Trocadéro, 75016, but also Place des Vosges, with a nod to C). You will have an exceptional choice of anything you could think of and the same Roaring Twenties atmosphere as in the Relais de Venise restaurant. The chocolat chaud (hot chocolate) is almost perfection (do NOT go to Angelina, on the rue de Rivoli, that is another favorite which went south and not in a good way). The best macarons you will find North of Saint Jean de Luz's Maison Adam (where the story of macarons began in earnest). This is Someone's favorite, but then he always was a Right Bank purist. Service is old school, which means supremely kind, if only a bit on the slow side: you are in France, soak it in!

Les Deux Magots (6 Pl. Saint-Germain des Prés, 75006). On the Left Bank in the publishing houses district. This is my second favorite (there is a first favorite) and you will likely find me on the heated terrace with a cigarette and a newspaper, if I were there. Service is appalling, but you should not mind, I have warned you. Reasonably priced for what and where it is. Breakfasts are mediocre, but still enjoyable and lunch/dinner menus are typical brasserie fare - you are not there for the food, you are there to cosplay Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir and act intellectual and sophisticated and have endless talks about the world's destiny (https://lesdeuxmagots.fr/en/breakfast-menu/). If nature calls, head downstairs with an air of intrinsic superiority and don't forget to pay the grumpy dame pipi (toilet lady), who will give you what you need and look at you like you are the scum of the Earth. Always makes me laugh.

Le Café de l'Epoque (2 Rue du Bouloi, 75001). On the Right Bank, at the end of one of the most beautiful passages couverts (glass-roofed passageways) of Paris. Again, you are there for the supremely dreamy atmosphere, I can only fail to describe. Look on the map for all of these passageways and then get lost in the maze of stamp shops, bookstores, taxidermists and God only knows what else you could think of (or at least add to this passageway the Galerie Vivienne). Usual brasserie/bistro fare, reasonable prices (https://cafedelepoque.fr/en/services). The lemon meringue pies are to die for.

Café Le Rostand (6 Pl. Edmond Rostand, 75006). Steps away from the Luxembourg Gardens, which I crossed every single day to go to the uni. Steps away also from the secret and sublime Medici fountain in above park (oh, the things I did there!). Surprisingly good French fare, the beef tartare is excellent (a rare thing!) and well priced (https://lerostand.fr/carte/ - use Google translate, they don't care for tourists). Service is cheeky. Round the corner, one of the most charming shops in Paris, Parapluies Simon (56 Boulevard Saint-Michel, 75006) - only umbrellas and dandy walking sticks (you can hide a whisky mini flask in one of them, I am told by Someone on the phone, but I think he is trolling us - we love that shop).

The Tea Caddy (14 Rue Saint-Julien le Pauvre, 75005). It's been there since 1928, when a certain Miss Klinklin opened it and introduced the Devon scones to France. It is my favorite favorite (https://the-tea-caddy.com/en/tea-room/) and it is perfect on a rainy day. Steps away from the Medieval church of Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, one of the most authentic and moving experiences of its kind in a very secular town. The Shakespeare & Co. bookstore is just round the corner. A rare gem of a place.

I could go on and on and on. Three more short tips and you will thank me for it, as alternatives to deceiving mainstream options:

The Musée de l'Orangerie instead of The Louvre. Blasphemy? Intense perfumes come in small bottles. It is breathtaking (https://www.musee-orangerie.fr/en).

Château de Rambouillet instead of Versailles (you will not be able to enjoy it AT ALL). Where else could you find Marie Antoinette's private 'milk bar' (La Laiterie de la Reine/ The Queen's Dairy), a supremely elegant affair, with milk-spouting fountains, built to encourage hygienic milk consumption as an alternative to breast-feeding (she was unable to). Trust me and plan a full day for it (https://www.chateau-rambouillet.fr/en/discover).

La Sainte-Chapelle instead of Notre Dame. I always preferred it to anything else, except perhaps Vézelay (far, far away from Paris). It will shock you, but in such a perfect way (https://www.sainte-chapelle.fr/en). Enough said: I will let you discover. Across the Seine, couple this visit with the Musée de Cluny and tell The Lady and the Unicorn I miss them (https://www.musee-moyenage.fr/en/).

I am not sorry for the length of this post. At all. I hope you will enjoy this modest, but very personal selection and perhaps you will come back and tell me if it was worth something. Bon voyage!

Notre Dame on a snowy evening, Paris 1953