#Tea Set that Makes Tea Tasty

[secretgardenfox]

Recommend a very happy cup😂｜Hahahahahahaha What kind of strange cup is this? Hahahahahaha I need a [Haha Cup] to resist the unhappiness in life

The arched handle is anti-scalding and comfortable to hold. It comes with a tea filter liner, which can easily filter tea residues. The filter cup can also be removed directly when not in use. It is very versatile. You can use it to drink tea, coffee, and milk. It can also be used as a daily water cup~

[rake-rake]

Cooked fried rice with kimchi for dinner... It was the last kimchi I had, I made a batch from scratch 6 years ago since they don't sell stuff like that here. I even had to make some of the ingredients from scratch, like the fish sauce and the soy paste. I feel empty.

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗼𝗳𝗳-𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗶 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗼 𝘁𝗼 𝗱𝗲-𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 ( just pretend i wasn't gone for months guys )

between smartphones, computers, ipads, and screens everywhere, sometimes i feel like i have pudding instead of a brain and i need to engage in three-dimensional activities that don't involve staring at pixels all day, here are some ideas to get in touch with creativity and real word again.

𝟭. drawing and colouring ( 🎨 )

whether it's drawing landscapes, characters from your favorite series or simple doodles, putting the pen on the paper relaxes me instantly. if you are not good at freehand drawing or you're simply lazy, there are many coloring books for adults with mandalas (my personal favorites) or animals/natural landscapes, also online you can find many drawings to color that you can print. in discount stores you can find packs of colored markers at a great price, after all we don't need to be professionals.

𝟮. puzzles and diamond paintings ( 🧩 )

i recently discovered diamond paintings and i'm obsessed with them, on amazon you can find many sets with amazing designs and composing them is really relaxing. having something to focus on for a few hours a day is really essential, puzzles are perfect for this purpose too.

𝟯. reading and writing ( 📚 )

this is a more challenging activity, when we are burnout the last thing we want to do is use our brain, but reading a good novel or writing down a few pages in your journal can distract you from the present moment and give you a bit of a break while still keeping you productive. every second spent reading or writing is a second invested in your personal growth.

𝟰. experiment with outfits and makeup ( ✨ )

i have a lot of clothes but zero outfits, my favorite activity is decluttering my closet, putting away things i don't wear anymore and experimenting with new styles. also sitting at my desk and trying new makeup that's different from my usual eyeliner and mascara, i find it so fun and it's a great way to reconnect with my image when i've spent a month stuck in my room studying.

𝟱. cooking and baking ( 🧁 )

i'm not a good cook and i've burned more cakes than i care to admit, but i have to say it's terribly fun and therapeutic, especially if you're cooking with someone. u think anyone who cooks professionally hates having a second person in the kitchen with them, but when friends make a cake (ugly but tasty) and then eat it together in front of a cup of steaming tea - now, now, that's real therapy.

𝟲. working out, dancing, doing yoga ( 🩰 )

put on some music, dance in your room, follow your workout routine, lay out a mat and do stretching or yoga, connect with your body after being locked in your mind, physical activity is very important to keep your mind fresh ( mens sana in corpore sano ). if you can, go to a park, or an open space, just be careful of excessive stimuli.

these are some of the things i do, feel free to comment on your de-stressing activities.

[click4rainy]

Hello, I hoped you're having a good day! I love your writing, and I got super excited when I saw you write for mk11! If you're not too overwhelmed with requests, could you please do one of those sfw/nsfw dating headcanons sets for Fujin? Either way, thank you for taking time out of your day to write 💗

Breezy Man//Fujin Boyfriend Head Canons

👽: AWW, you’re so sweet, thank you!! I got like 10+ requests I’m cooking up in the kitchen right now HA! But I’m vibing and I love all the different prompts I’m getting!!! So keep em coming!! Hope you enjoy my head canons for Fujin. (He’s so FINEEEE) kisses MUAHHH!!!

���: Proof Read

🖇️:Fujin x Reader

⚠️:NSFW/AFAB!Reader/Mentions of freaky time with a deity that’s—MMMHHH—tasty lookin. 

SFW 🌫️🤍

★ Fujin is definitely a playful, affectionate soul. He’s loves teasing you, makings light hearted quips just to see you smile.

★ “If the wind could blush, I believe it would at the sight of your smile.” “That face alone could calm even the most chaotic storm. Keep it, and I’ll make sure the winds only sing for you today.”

★ At this point, you just expect the gusts of wind helping him with his antics. He’ll tousle your hair, or twirl a small whirl of leaves around you just because. Making you softly laugh, or shoot him a little warning glare if you lose balance.

★ “Did you just trip? No, no I assure you, it was not me—the wind is mischievous today. But I must admit, it’s rather convenient with the way you fell into my arms, hmm?”

★ He loves giving forehead kisses. They’re considered a silent blessing whenever you receive one from him. “You claim me rascally? Yet here you are, with my heart—stolen. A thief, truly.”

★ Fiercely protective over you, but of course he believes in your strength and doesn’t want to come off as smothering. And if danger does occur, he’ll subtly keep you within his wind currents, ensuring you’re always safe.

★ Fujin is a rather peaceful being. He prefers to avoid unnecessary conflict. But if someone threatens you? He has no issue switching to a cold, powerful force.

★ “Do not mistake my gentleness for inaction, should anyone bring you harm, they will learn why even the faintest of breezes can become a storm.”

★ Fujin comes off as a very emotionally intelligent person. He yearns for deep, meaningful connection with the one he considers his heart. He’s naturally an open person, and wants to understand your thoughts and emotions in any conversation—no matter the topic.

★ Fujin’s perspective on mortality is personal, to say the least. He’s lived countless ages and has seen mortal lives flicker like the flames of a candle.

★ He doesn’t fear your mortality per se, but he mourns the inevitability of losing you. However, this is why he reminds you often that time is precious, and that every moment together matters.

★ There’s for sure some (a lot of) teasing at Raidens expense, especially if Fujin’s brother doesn’t quite know how to react to your relationship.

★ “Brother, do you see how radiant they are? I think I finally understand why you prefer thunderstorms—because you are jealous of my sunshine.”

★ One hundred percent sentimental when it comes to giving and receiving gifts. You could give him a bobby pin and he’d keep it for eternity. (Literally)

★ His gifts usually consist of intricate pieces of jewelry, small crystals for you to carry around for different purposes. Like prosperity, luck, balance etcétera. Or he brews homemade tea/coffee flavors for you to try out.

NSFW ☁️💦

★ Fujin for sure loves taking control in the bedroom, he’s a soft dom and makes you feel good with sensual touches and commanding words.

★ “That’s it, songbird. Just like that,” He croons, guiding your body with strong hands, directing you to arch your back or wrap your legs around him.

★ He’s a god with a penchant for teasing edge play, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy only to pull back—making you pout and beg for more.

★ “Patience, love,” he chastises while tracing your curves with feather light kisses and caresses, smirking up at you while his breath fans against your skin, reveling in your needy little whimpers.

★ Gets pussy drunk. He could have his head between your thighs for hours. But you usually can’t take more than ten maybe fifteen minutes. He’s a damn tease, remember? So even if you’re writhing and squirming, tears stinging your eyes, Fujin simply moans, tightening his hold on you while flicking his tongue at your clit and pushing two fingers inside you.

★ “Just a little longer, love—please~” he softly pleads with flushed cheeks, before diving right back in without warning, his tongue and fingers working in tandem, making your legs shake and toes curl.

★ He’s sentimental, as you may already know, and prefers bare skin. Talking about skin on skin touch. He loves you naked and exposed before him, admiring the sight of your soft, perfect, bare flesh.

★ “Absolutely exquisite.” He hums, taking his sweet time to worship every inch. His calloused hands mapping out your nipples, flanks, hips, ass. Kneading and groping, pressing you impossibly close to him.

★ Has an appreciation for lewd art. More specifically he loves admiring erotic pieces and photography featuring you as the subject. He has many pieces like this for…personal reasons. His glowing eyes hungrily tracing your figure and the sinful poses that make his cock stir and throb with want.

★ Adventurous and open. Loves exploring kinky positions. He’s always seeking new and thrilling ways to join with you. He’ll have you bent over the bathroom sink, gripping your hips. “Look at us.” He grunts, pounding into you from behind, sliding one hand up your back to grip your chin, forcing you to look at your reflection in the mirror. “See how perfectly we fit?”

★ He can get down with a little bit of rough play. Though he doesn’t like to leave welting marks. Even if you beg “harder!” —he’s soft yet firm with his smacks and slaps. But pounding into you with brutality? Yes please!

★ He’ll fuck into you at a punishing pace, grunting with each thrust. “You can take it, lovely.” He huffs out, your tits bouncing, bed creaking and groaning as you hold onto the sheets for dear life. “Take every inch of your lord’s cock.”

★ Feel like he indulges in steamy, sexy bathing rituals with you. Your slick, wet bodies slipping and sliding against each other, affectionately cleaning each other’s backs, exploring and caressing with soapy hands and fingertips.

★ Fujin has a liking for the….finer points of BDSM. Silk ties, blindfolds, light impact play intermingled with your guys’ intimacy. Binding your hands, letting the fabric bite into your skin as he stands to rummage through the collection of ties. “Color?” He checks in, ever the considerate lover.

★ Of course, after fucking your senseless, the god is an incredibly tender lover (more so than before). He’ll clean you up and get you into freshened garments. Gathering you into his strong arms, peppering your face with soft kisses as he strokes your hair (or cheek).

★ “You did so well, songbird.” He praises gently. “Truly, I am blessed to have you as my own.”

[pillow-priestess]

If You Know What To Look For

content: dollthoughts, stillness, cozy fluff wish fulfillment

You arrive early to your favorite cafe, several minutes before the agreed time with your date. It's only polite to sit down and reserve a quiet table outside, one with a lovely view over the nearby lake. It'll be her first time coming here, so you'd like to do what you can to prepare nicely!

When she arrives, you notice each other instantly. She greets you with a wide smile that's even prettier than the one on her dating profile! You stand up and exchange a soft hug, laughing it off when she asks if you've been waiting long. The way she tilts her head and grins fills you with warmth.

She sits in the chair across from you, and it's on to pleasant conversation. What you do for work, how you recently moved out, recommendations on what to order here. When you offer to share a favorite tea of yours with her, she happily accepts, and the drinks arrive in no time at all.

It's easy to listen to her. Her voice is clear and focused, even with the mild chatter from other patrons and soft music flowing from within the cafe as a backdrop. Questions and answers flow between you, with the occasional joke that makes you both giggle, and every word feels nice and natural.

As the date goes on, her demeanor slowly shifts, and her gaze seems to pierce you a little more. She asks you about literature, friends, habits. Her eyes follow your cup of tea when you bring it to your lips. She notices every time your posture shifts. A hint of a smirk colors her face.

Eventually, you both refill your tea, and she compliments you on the flavor. You ask if there's anything that could improve it for her, adding that experimenting at home is nice for you. It's been a hobby of yours recently, something you picked up from reading things online. She just smiles and says she'll think about it, and waits for you to take another sip. The moment your cup is back on the table, a single word leaves her lips, one that brings the world around you to a halt.

"Still."

its body locks up, its eyes frozen on the tea in front of it. human thoughts try to race through its head, but they're muffled, suppressed by the trigger it had slowly, naturally gained over the last few months.

the face of the woman across from it breaks into a smug grin.

some part of it tries to deny that this was intentional. it was just a word, meaningless to the average person, there's no way that she meant-

"That's right. Nice and Still for me, doll. It doesn't have to think, it can just listen. It's so very good at that, isn't it?"

it is. it does.

the woman adds some sugar to her tea, leisurely taking her time stirring it in before taking a sip. it stays frozen, the only signs of life to an outside observer being the slow rise and fall of its chest, and the occasional blink of its eyes, locked looking down at its tea.

"Good doll. It's never been noticed like this in real life, has it? It was very good at pretending to be human… but its true nature is all too obvious, if you know what to look for."

she leans forward in her chair, reaching over the table to slowly trace her fingers over the back of its hand.

it would gasp if it could. the touch feels divine.

"It hasn't been a doll for very long, has it? The way it sounded, it likely fell into dollhood… a month or two ago, I'd think. It must have read a story or two that changed the way its brain worked. How long did it take to Become, I wonder?"

her fingers lace with its own, gently squeezing.

"Resume. Look at me."

motion floods back into its body, and it sits up straight, eyes instantly meeting hers. its jaw opens to try and respond, to ask what she's thinking.

"M- …Miss, I- this one-"

"Shh. No words, doll. Just listen."

it obeys.

he finishes her tea, setting the cup down with a satisfied exhale. "This was tasty. It made the right choice, taking me here."

its cheeks flush at the praise, and its hands clench a fold of its dress. she smiles at the tic.

"I can't wait for it to make me more at home."

opening her wallet, she pulls out more than enough cash to pay for the tea, leaving it under her mug. she stands, holding out a hand to the doll.

"Up. Come with me."

it takes her hand, dainty touch matched with a gentle grip as she turns to walk it down to the lakeside. a light breeze is blowing over the surface of the lake, causing ripples that shine and flash in the late morning sun. she leads the doll down a small walking path, gravel crunching beneath her boots and its shoes. soon, there's a nice little bench looking over the water. before it can sit, though,

"Be Still."

it locks up, halfway to taking a seat. her hands take the doll and begin to move it, shifting its form as easily as adjusting a mannequin. she sits it down on the bench, tilting its head up to look at the gentle waves, then folds its hands daintily in its lap.

a few more touches to fix its hair and straighten its dress, and she steps back to admire her handiwork with a smile that makes its silent heart soar. taking a seat next to the doll, she wraps an arm over its shoulders, letting it lean into her ever so slightly without having to break its stillness.

"That's it. Such a good doll for me… Maybe you weren't sure that this was right for you yet, doll. I'm sure you've felt your dollhood reading and experimenting online, but this is the first time you've truly been treated as what you are, what you're meant to be."

she looks at the lake and smiles.

"But I don't think there's any question left, is there. You are a doll. You are a pretty little toy, made to be posed and instructed and appreciated and played with."

she strokes its hair, curling it around a finger like playing with a string. her eyes move back to it, languidly drinking it in.

"And to think, we're both lucky enough that I need a pretty new doll for my collection. And this one is already nice and ready and free for me to take…"

the glimmering sunlight from the lake is reflected in the doll's eyes. it would like to hope that that shine is enough to show its excitement. she takes the doll by the chin, turning its head to face her and finally meet her gaze. there's a hunger in her eyes, something it yearns to satisfy, to let it devour any semblance of personhood it has left.

"Yes. Yes, doll, you'll do just perfect. Resume. And thank me."

motion floods its form again, hands shaking and squeezing at its dress again and again as gratitude bubbles out of its lips. this one thanks its mistress, thanks her so much, she's wonderful, she's divine, this one is so lucky to be her possession, to be part of her beautiful collection forever-

she sweeps it up in a hug, lifting it off the bench and off its feet like it weighs nothing at all, and all of the praise is suppressed for a moment by an adorable 'eep!' she's smiling up at it, a loving, infectious smile that it automatically matches, her adoration filling it with the greatest purpose it's ever known

"That's my good doll! My precious little dolly…"

lowering it to the ground, she steadies its shaky legs with her hands on its hips. she leans in to plant a long, warm kiss on its forehead, and it feels like it could fall apart into warm mushy pieces.

"Now. Let's get you home, dolly. You're going to be just perfect for me~"

<3

[honeytonedhottie]

HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE may edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

welcome back to honeys it girl magazine, this is the may catalog. get ready for the inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion. a magazine for it girls ✨ and now please enjoy, the it girl magazine.

FOR THE WELLNESS GIRLIES ;

this month i discovered ballerina tea! and if u dont know what ballerina tea is, im going to put you on bcuz thats the whole point of the it girls magazine. the key ingredients in ballerina tea is senna and chinese mallow.

so essentially ballerina tea contains herbs that some cultures have traditionally used for a long time. its marketed as a weight loss tea but thats not all true. ballerina tea has a laxative effect and is really good for DETOXIFICATION and translate into lost weight in the form of water and stools.

while we are on the topic of consumption this is your reminder to eat ur fresh fruits and veggies! lets talk about ways to incorporate more fresh foods into our everyday diet.

if u like to snack, make fruits and vegetables more accessible for you. by prepping snacks before the cravings start, your snacking smarter.

start making smoothies or açai bowls as a rly yummy and easy way of getting fresh fruits daily.

make tasty veggie platters with home made sauces as a way to get in vegetables, or find a way to incorporate veggies into ur favorite recipes.

something that i did recently that has improved the quality of my diet is simply making some foods from scratch. for example i had a huge craving for fries, so i made home made fries and i can guarantee its 10X better then the processed fries that i would've gotten.

THE SCRAMBLE FOR SUMMER PLANS ;

school is FINALLY done. we are free to enjoy our hot girl summers! but now that school is done i find myself faced with the "now what?" question. no but seriously now what? no one wants to have a wasted summer, and ik u dont either so make sure to live up ur summer!

i did not take my own advice and i did not make preparations in advance for my summer so as of writing this post i have no plans, so im scrambling to make plans with my friends and set things up for myself. im planning out things like girls trips to the city, shopping trips, parties, dinners etc etc. and ofc manifesting for the vacation that i deserve.

HONEYS BEAUTY CORNER ;

SUPER EASY TANNING ROUTINE - tanning is one of the most important parts of summer! to start ur tanning routine, first things first set up a tanning playlist. my tanning playlist consists of songs like espresso by sabrina carpenter, nasty by tinashe, and turn it up by pink pantheress.

next apply some SPF to protect ur skin from the hot sun and apply some tanning oil if u have it. something else important to remember when tanning is to cooldown after tanning so keep some aloe vera gel on hand to avoid burning. we wanna TAN not burn.

tan the front then the back (each in 10 minute intervals) by the time ur done each side should tan for about 20 minutes each. so it'd be something like (front - 10 minutes, back - 10 minutes, front - 10 minutes, back - 10 minutes)

afterwards COOL DOWN with some swimming, some aloe vera, have a tasty mocktail/cocktail, apply some tanning oil and repeat the process one more time.

SMELLING LIKE THE BEACH - if u wanna smell like the beach, go to the beach. but if u wanna have the same effect i recommend the following products : the watermelon and coconut scented tree hut scrubs. the maui hair products. cabana girl body wash from philosophy. the bum bum body scrub. sol de janeiro rio radiance. ;

DIONNE FROM CLUELESS - STYLE DISSECTION ;

dionne is my absolute favorite character in the clueless movie and show for a MULTITUDE of different reasons. she is the embodiment of black femininity, girlyness, and she just exudes the lavish energy that we all know and love!

lets start off by talking about the way that dionne styles her hair. dionne's hair is so healthy, bouncy and absolutely GORGEOUS. she frequently styles her hair with things like headbands and clips. i've seen her in lots of different hairstyles and she always EATS.

dionne isnt particularly drawn to one specific color, the colors that she wears ranges depending on her outfit but everything is so well put together. one of dionne's most ICONIC looks is her unforgettable burgundy velvet dress with some white detaling.

[eflen-n-reegee]

Caregiver Rosie Headcanons (Hazbin Hotel)

Heads up: this show contains death, violence, swearing, sexual assault, and various forms of depravity.

Rosie can spot a regressor a mile away, and she’ll start nurturing you before she even knows your name. It might be a little off-putting, but she has good intentions.

She loves to baby the absolute dickens out of you. No matter how old you are, she’s constantly pinching your cheeks and cooing about how adorable you are.

(And any argument about how you’re too old for that kind of thing is met with a cheerful hand wave. “Oh sugar, you’ll always be my baby, however big you get.”)

There’s all kinds of creepy confections at her store, and she’s happy to let you try them… but she’s also completely willing to make you more normal food. “It’s an acquired taste, sweetie, no big deal.”

She loves to dress you up in old fashioned outfits, and she goes on for hours about how darling you look.

She is GREAT with helping you work through big feelings. She’s a wonderful listener and always gives helpful advice.

She’s always watching for things she thinks you’ll like. Maybe she surprises you with a new toy, or maybe she points out a cool bug on the ground. She just likes seeing you excited.

If you like tea parties, Rosie is your gal. She’ll set out her best tea service, make all kinds of tasty snacks, and bring plenty of gossip to the table.

She’s a very hands-on person, constantly wanting to hug you or hold your hand or fuss with your hair. (And if you don’t like physical contact, she’ll respect that, but she’ll also try to find forms of touch you’re comfortable with. Maybe gentle tugs on your sleeve, or holding hands with a plushie? She’ll find something that works!)

She is very firm about rules and has absolutely no qualms about sending you to timeout. Don’t bother with the puppy eyes; she’s completely immune.

~~~~~~~~~

I’m finally back! I’m working on filling some suggestions from a few months ago, but I just had to get my thoughts on Rosie out there. If you like Hazbin Hotel agere content, I highly recommend @nottapossum

[imagionationstation]

Something I was thinking about today:

The claim that Splinter “never feeds his sons human food” and they have to discover it upon reaching the surface is a curious one.

It makes sense given common information.

Let’s use our big brains. Reason out some more info.

Info like… Splinter must have looked up information about turtles before buying four baby turtles.

However, after getting turned into a rat and ending up a father to infants on the run from aliens, he probably never got the chance to go to the library or use the Internet to look up information on how to feed a half-human half-turtle hybrid baby.

(Not that the Internet had forums for that yet. Was the internet prevalent in 2012…?)

So he just. Fed them turtle food and hoped for the best.

(The Japanese are know for eating insects. And algae is commonly used in all kinds of their recipes. For Americans, it sounds crazy. For Splinter, it was just an adaption of his own diet in the hopes of providing his mutant children with safe, normal turtle food.)

By the time they were kids, they’d probably just gotten used to a routine. We really have no proof that algae and worms is bad for the turtles. Tastes yucky? Maybe. But humans eat plants and bugs too.

Splinter was likely just working with what he knew.

But I don’t think they only ever ate algea. Don’t get me wrong-

The theory is totally understandable. I was onboard for this claim for a while myself. Then, I rewatched Lone Rat and Cubs. (Bebés 🥰🥰)

And he definitely introduces them to foods.

I’m seeing noodles, gyoza, (bamboo stick?), and he also throws down something yellow that I can’t recognize. We also see him collecting bread for them and dangling food over the little piranha children.

He continues to collect products for them. Maybe not the healthiest because he’s literally raiding trashcans but… He’s trying.

And then we have some popcorn proof that he’s still introducing them to human foods when they’re kiddos, with Mikey happily snacking on some while they’re in the dojo.

During the series, we see very little new introductions to foods. They eat romen, icecream, popcorn, and drink milk, tea, and other human things without so much as batting an eye.

Ergo, they’ve had human foods. They’ve just never had pizza.

Why do they act like such goobers when introduced to pizza?

BECAUSE THEY’RE GOOBERS, YOUR HONOR!!!

Though- they actually act similarly when introduced to pizza gyoza.

They hesitate. And then something explodes with how tasty it is.

But because this list is far to short to be a proper analysis, there’s also the point to be made for the first episode where they have an entire kitchen set-up going around them.

And I’m no New York Subway expert, but do they normally have kitchens set up within them? Probably not.

Which means that Splinter (and/or his sons) must have set this up. Why set up pantries, a fridge, and a stove if you did not intend to house foods or make foods to cook on them?

After all, the food on the plates appear fresh and raw.

They have an algae pool for harvesting in the lab. Why would they need to create an entire kitchen set-up simply to prepare them?

Also, they know how to use chopsticks for big and small foods. If they’d spent their entire lives eating small foods, it would be a teenie bit difficult to change the method of picking up a fatter breading than a tiny greenery or worm. Especially with mutant hands.

But they don’t hesitate. As if they have picked up larger foods before.

Also, also, they know what a cake is. What it’s supposed to be made out of. Hence why Leo knows what “icing” is.

I’m not normally that excited to taste something that I’ve never tried before (unless someone is hyping me up). It feel implied that they have and that’s why they’re disappointed that Mikey made one of not-cake substances and why Mikey looks like he has regrets.

Also, also, also- considering Splinter eats the algae and worms too, I don’t believe that he has the turtles on a purely algae based diet because he’d have to stick himself on one too. Man’s not a fan.

And he knows that other foods exist. So. Why would he?

In other words, my favorite analogy:

I hate Spinach salad. My mother used to make us eat Spinach salad.

Were there better things to eat than Spinach? Yeah.

Did mom even listen to that point? Nope.

But was it still technically good for me so I was forced to stomach Spinach salad until I was old enough to design my own diet?

You betcha. And I hated every minute of it 👍

So, to end this, I have to say that while algea and worms could have been (at maximum) a common meal for the turtles, I don’t think it was their only meal option. I’m not necessarily saying it was the best idea or the tastiest meal for a birthday-type celebration, but the turtles definitely had outside food exposure.

Do with this knowledge what you will.

[slippinninque]

Fontaine, Seduced

(alternatively : Fontaine Tries To Be A Gentleman But You Aint Ask Him For All'Dat)

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, Minors DNI, long fic, cursing, use of the n-word, thirsty Fontaine, ramblings, slight corruption kink, praises n' begging, P-in-V, light bondage, Slips' First Smut

A/N: So sorry for the wait! Sooo, this is in answer to the anon who asked how Fontaine would be if he was trying to hide his nasty. i really hope i did you proud! I've

He...may have a problem.

There you were, the light of his life, seated on the floor and in a nest of your own making. Blankets and pillows spread with you nestled in it's center. A skein of yarn to your left as whatever it was you were creating grew in your lap with snacks to your right.

Absolutely adorable while you watched an old western with him. Fontaine knew you were warm and soft as a cake from your shower and shea butter, he could smell your hot chocolate with every sip you took.

Your furry socked feet rubbed together in your contentedness and every so often, you'd lean back on Fontaine's legs to look up at him until he leaned down to kiss you.

He wanted to see you cry.

It was terrible, he was terrible. You've been nothing but good to him and here he was wanting to see those pretty eyes rolling. It was a problem, he knew it.

Still...

He wanted to bend and twist you, he wanted to hear how close he could get you to screaming. Fontaine wanted to bite from your neck to your ankles, he wanted to ruin your sheets. He wanted to ruin the back seats in his ride, take you on a walk and lay you down beneath the moon and hear you call for him.

Fontaine knew how pretty you'd be taking his dick down your throat and he wanted to see it first hand.

But....it was you.

He could imagine wrapping a hand around those pretty locs and tugging them down to swallow his dick, but he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to do it.

Because it was you.

What if he hurt you? What if he did something you didn't like and you didn't tell him?

What if he scared you?

The idea alone distressed him.

He wouldn't risk it. Fontaine wouldn't risk anything when it came to you.

"Tea time? I think its tea time."

Your words drew him from his thoughts, movie long forgotten as he watched you stretch. You rolled partly onto your side, humming and unaware of the chaos you were causing as your cami rode high and your nipples pebbled beneath the fabric.

"You want some tea?"

You were laid out into your back now, lost in a other stretch and Fontaine took a breath and nodded.

He was fine.

It was fine.

:::

It was not fine.

"I know it's a lot, but I made a promise." You sighed, looking over your shoulder and into the full length mirror in the back of the bedroom door. Fontaine sat only a few feet away, the polishing his sneaker in the same damn spot.

The promise was modeling a line of beautifully crafted crystal-bikini sets. Your locs were piled up carelessly as you struggled to clasp the top piece.

Fontaine has never seen anything like it, but you often ran with an artsy crowd. You often brought home strange and beautiful things to either model, store, or complete.

He really he hoped that you get to keep this one.

"You good, baby, you good. Tell what's it made of." Fontaine cleared his throat and stood, coming up behind you to take over.

"Fluorite and clear-quartz, you can see the lil' silver bells, right?" she said. "It reminds me of those flapper girls! But without the, uh, middle part, y'know? Look!"

You took a step back and twisted your hips with a soft, "Swish, swish!"

Fontaine whistled lowly. All he saw pretty titties and tasty thighs. When you turned and bent over a bit, wagging your bottom at him, he moved before thinking.

He cracked you right across the ass.

You squealed, putting your hands on your cheeks and looking at him with wide eyes.

"Ooh, shit, my bad baby!"

Fontaine's heart fell into the floorboards, regardless of giggle fit you were in. He pulled you close with one arm, pressing apologetic kisses to the top of your head while his free hand rubbed your cheeks.

What the fuck was he thinking? Okay, he's gave you a little pop every now and again but that--that was out of line.

'You fuckin' up, nigga.'

"It's okay, it's okay. Really, it was really the sound that surprised me--okay?"

Fontaine looked you in the eye, saw your glimmering eyes and the giddy smile. He kissed your cheeks, wanting to feel your blushing face.

Then he nodded.

You kissed him on the lips, then had the nerve to bat your eyes at him.

"Y'know...I do get to keep this."

:::

"--od, Big Dawg?"

Fontaine's head snapped up and saw that Big Moss was trying to pass him a blunt. He shook his head at himself, taking the blunt and then taking a pull.

Big Moss shook his head as well, "C'mon, tell me what's up."

"I'm good, 'Moss. Jus' got a lot on my mind."

"Is it about your lil' shawty or somthin'?"

He grunted. Feeling his stare, Fontaine turned to face Big Moss who's expression was expectant.

"Well? Tell ya mans what's goin' on!" On went the fan and Fontaine knew it wasn't going to be let go.

He took another hit and passed the blunt back, "She's a good girl. Ain't like the others I had, I ain't gotta tell you that. Can't treat her like normal."

"Can't treat her... normal?"

"Can't treat her normal, y'know wha' I'm sayin'?"

A beat of silence. Then Big Moss' eyes widened in understanding,

"Oh! can't trea--yeah, a'ight, I see, I see."

Fontaine sighed and told Big Moss about losing himself when you were trying on the bikini-set, how bad he felt.

"Did she feel bad?"

"What?"

"I know you heard me, nigga. Like, did she cry or cuss yo' ass out? Get up and leave? anythin'?"

Fontaine didn't have to think hard to recall your smile, the breathy way you laughed, "...No. She wasn't mad. I was the one most fucked up by it."

Smacking his lips, the Big Moss put a hand on Fontaine's shoulder,

"Lemme tell you somethin', this yo' first Good Girl--ain't it? I'll tell you somethin' about 'em. The sweetest little faces be hiding the nastiest shit, cuz."

Fontaine scoffed, unbelieving. He recalled your inexperience at the beginning of your relationship. You were nervous but you did make up for it in unlimited enthusiasm...

"Hmn."

Big Moss continued, "I'm telling you, man! She's probably shy 'bout some shit and just need a lil encouragement from her man. Trust me on this, Big Dawg. I've seen how ya'll are--"

His free hand went up innocently at the look Fontaine gave him,

"All I'm sayin' is that ya'll rock with each other. Work with her, man. It'll all be cool in the end, ya dig me? Whatch it be something small, I'm tellin' you!"

Fontaine thought about it.

Then he nodded. Big Moss nodded back, handing over the blunt and not bothering to hide his grin.

:::

Fontaine had a plan.

He was thinking about it every since he left Big Moss, their talk still echoing through his head.

'Take it slow if you that worried, Big Dawg.'

'Moss was right. Fontaine took it slow made sure to be careful when dealing with you, and it's gotten him nothing but sweetness and warmth back.

He went to your place without even thinking and you welcomed him in with an excited smile. That smile grew nearly manic when you saw the take out in hands.

He took in your plushy romper and slippers as he followed you into the den. That winter weight that you've been commenting about was nothing but God and Fontaine knew to be grateful.

"Damn girl, whatchu been up too?" He rose a brow at the whirlwind of yarn and notebooks.

"Ah, just trying to keep hands busy!" you said with an embarrassed little laugh. You hurried to make space for him on the couch, moving your next to the floor after tossing down a few blankets.

You went onto your hands and knees, spreading out all the corners and pulling a few seating cushions closer. Fontaine followed the lines of you, right to the lil' bit of booty that was peeking out.

"You gonna be sittin' away from me?" Fontaine mumbled, eyes stuck to your ass.

"I'll come closer." You promised with a coy smile, then told him to get comfortable. You asked if he needed anything as you both settled down.

Fontaine nearly purred at your care of him, reminded of how good he had it with you.

He just had to go slow. Get used to checking himself, making sure he wasn't doing too much. Fontaine would contain himself.

A soft touch brought him outside of his head.

"Whatchu doin' down there, pretty?"

Your hands slid up his jean clad thighs and aimed those bright eyes at him. You still laid your cheek on his knee, still rubbing as you blink slowly at him without saying a word.

Fontaine's tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wasn't prepared for this. All he could do was nod and you gave him a candied smile as you pulled down his zipper. He groaned inwardly, bracing himself as the lust for nearly boiled over.

He was trying to be a good.

Your soft hands found his dick already half hard. Fontaine shifted to make more room for you, utterly enthralled by the way you licked your lips and wriggled closer.

A few pumps were all he needed and without preamble, you slipped his dick right to the back of your throat.

His ears rang and he finally released the remote he's been clutching, arms going out to span the back of the couch. What the fuck was this?

Your head went in small bobs, never letting the head of Fontaine's dick from the back of your throat. Your tongue was wet and wonderful. Nearly serpentine as you jerked the base of him, pulling back and giving his tip saccharine kisses.

He breathed heavily, hips jerking only once before he remembered himself. You hummed disappointedly and pulled back, looking at him with a small frown

" 'Taine, you need to relax." You still stroked his length, "Are you not into oral, we don't have too--

"Naw, that ain't it," Fontaine interjected quickly,

You rewarded him with another wet kiss to his tip, "Then why aren't you putting this where it belongs?"

He blinked as your words rang through his ears, the sweetest faces...

"You always go stiff as a board when I'm down here, never let me stay as long as I want." you sniffed and rubbed your lips against his dick.

His voice was faint, "I ain't want you to think you had to."

"I'd love to, Fontaine, that's the thing. More than often, preferably." You sighed, "I love that you're careful with me, but have you ever...wanted to...not be?"

Fontaine's hands balled where they were still up on the back of the couch.

You made the face when you were going to be really patient with him about something. Your gave his dick another kiss, soft as silk.

"Would you still be into me if I wasn't acting sweet all the time?"

He never understood whiplash until this very moment, but Fontaine focused when he saw the furrow in your brow.

"I don't care how you act, you're gonna still be mine at the end of the day." Fontaine was certain there was nothing that you could go through that he wouldn't be there to stand with you.

"Exactly. You ain't gotta be on your best behavior. You have me and all I want is you. How ever you are. I'm yours."

You laid it out so easy for him, the right words strung together to settle perfectly in his mind. Your words, your words...

Fontaine sat up, his focus zeroing in on you. Your back straightened as you continued.

"So what if I want to act...like-um..."

He sat up, "What? You wanna act up, pretty girl?"

The way you rubbed your thighs together in anticipation ignited him. You were a delicious little morsel on your knees trying to ask if you could swallow his dick again.

The sweetest fuckin' faces...

Fontaine reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb running across your lips. Your brown eyes were nearly black with a craving similar to Fontaine's.

He gently wagged your face, "Tell me what you want, baby."

"Everything."

He chuckled lowly at your whining and leaned in close enough to brush your noses together.

"You know what you askin' me?"

"You said you'd give me anything I need, didn't you? I need you, Fontaine."

Your voice carried off into a gasp, Fontaine had reached behind you and gathered your locs up into a gentle hold before tugging. With your head drawn back, Fontaine had the pleasure of seeing your pink tongue sweeping across your lips.

"You look hungry, pretty girl."

Your answer was a breathy little moan. Fontaine groaned as he leaned in to claim your lips, his reason slipping into the back seat of his mind.

:::

Arms tied behind your back, you could only rock and whine in Fontaine's lap as he pinched and plucked your tender nipples. One hand pulling the satin scarf that he used to bind your hands. It kept you taut and nearly immobile, enough for him to move you as he pleased.

And move you he did. Sometimes releasing your hands to grip at your waist, leaning up to kiss you or lying back and watching you.

The most nasty things flowed from his delectable lips and he definitely wasn't shy about giving your ass a few swats now.

Fontaine has been wringing orgasms out of you like honey from it's comb. The longer it went on, the more it felt like you were being devoured.

On your knees, away from the couch and up against the wall, folded up in recliner, now back on the couch.

Fontaine has never treated you this way. It was sublime. Gone was his careful touches and tender passion. Fontaine fucked you with a single minded determination, content to relish your ecstasy.

"This is what you wanted, pretty thing? Am I givin' you what you need now?"

You nodded, exhaling sharply as he ground into your sweet spot. Tears sprang to the corner of your eyes at the sweet-hurt of being overwhelmed. You needed more to fall over the line, but you didn't want it to end.

You made desperate noises as he backed off enough to leave you on the edge, "Ye-Yes! Yes, 'Taine-- please, please--!"

He kneaded your ass, rough as he moved you on his dick. The pressure had you releasing a sound you didn't know you could make.

Fontaine's echoing moan shadowed a grin, "That's it, tell me who I am. Tell me who's this pussy's for."

"Yo-You, Fontaine, you..." You babbled, "It's yours, it's yours!"

"And it feels good?"

"Mmn, yesss..."

"Is it too much?"

You shook your head. Fontaine's brow lifted and pace sharpened, ripping a keening gasp from you.

He purred as your eyes rolled back and sat up to meet you chest to chest, using one of his hands to squish your cheeks together.

"Use your words, beautiful. Is. It. Too much?" He husked against your lips, pace frustratingly slowing once again.

Your answer was to bite his bottom lip with the best growl you could muster.

Fontaine muttered something you couldn't hear and then he was leaning back, putting his hands on your thighs and driving up into you in earnest.

It felt like running through fire, seeing ever color at once, knowing the name of every star. All through it, Fontaine continued muttering to himself, no longer concerned with holding you steady.

"Mnh, look at that face. Finally gettin' what you wanted. Acting like like I ain't gonna give you what you ask for--that you can't tell me?"

"It wasn't like that." You whimpered at his hands on you again, reaching down to spread you around him. You gasped and lost balance swaying forward to press your forehead into his shoulder. When Fontaine slowed his pace again, you distantly hoped you'd be awake if he ever decided to cum.

"Don't worry," Fontaine's voice was gravel, "Imma teach you good. We'll find out how much you can take, hm? Together."

You were trembling and your brain was probably slush by now, but you've seen the appeal of being greedy.

Fontaine could still give you more, you still wanted more. Together, you could tear down the fences that kept you from each other's pleasure.

You leaned back enough to mash your lips to his, drinking down his pleased moan.

You didn't care how long it took, you wanted this man to tear you apart and piece you back together.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

PHEW

thank you for reading! this took literally too long and it still feels rushed, but I really wanted to challenge myself! Please let me know what you think, any tips would be greatly appreciated as well!

taglist: @megamindsecretlair @thadelightfulone @mag1calenchantr3ss @cocoeffects @wide-nose-and-wonderful @8ttached @thadelightfulone @hobiesmain @thickeeparker @longpause-awkwardsmile @ms-angiealsina @educatorsareslutstoo @mysterychick93

(let me know if you want to be tagged!! 💕💜🌟)

[xopedri]

shady lane!

loosely inspired by the song shady lane by pavement.

warnings: spanish throughout

a/n: merry christmas/christmas eve!!

“cuba, you should go on a date sometime, let loose a little. solo tienes diecisiete.” pau’s friend suggested, another adding on, “el tiene razón, y’know.”

“yeah yeah, whatever.” pau paused as he glanced at them, then back at the fifa match they were in the middle of playing.

“i don’t think i’m ready yet; with all the media attention and stress… it’s gonna be hard to add a girl to that.”

his friends all collectively nodded at the boy’s statement. he did have a point, to be fair.

“i could set you up with this girl i know, just for fun.” his friend replied, interrupting the silence in the room.

“make it a blind date!” another suggested, looking at pau with an expecting grin.

the brunette sighed as he relented. “give me 20 bucks and i’ll do it. no promises we’ll end up dating or something though.”

they all burst out laughing as his opponent in the fifa match scored a goal while he was distracted.

“que tramposo eres, cabron!” pau jokingly exclaimed as he playfully hit his friend.

———————

pau arrived at the cafe he was told to go to, not knowing exactly who to look for besides a name.

after a few moments, you glanced around and saw a boy who looked just as clueless as you— so you went up to him.

“are you… pau?” you spoke, forgetting his name for a moment.

“yeah, that’s me.” the brunette replied as he looked over your features. you were pretty. very pretty.

“well, hi.” you muttered with a chuckle after a second of awkward silence.

“hi.” pau said, returning your smile with a big grin that he was pretty known for.

“sorry, i didn’t really expect to be set up with a famous footballer.” you joked as you looked up at him, the boy laughing at your words in response.

“well… what’re you in the mood for?” the boy spoke after a few seconds, looking at the numerous variations of coffee, matcha, and tea that cafe had.

you thought for a moment as you ordered your drink as well as a pastry that looked too tasty to not order, pau following and ordering his things too.

after receiving your food, you both sat down at a table in a corner of the cafe far from the large windows.

“sorry, i didn’t want to get noticed by a bunch a fans and mess this up.” pau apologized as he looked at you.

“don’t apologize, i get it.” you assured him as you looked at his eyes. they were a striking blue color that just made him— beautiful.

the boy gave you a small smile in response as the date went on, you two chatting away as you both forgot about your food and drinks.

after an hour or so, you and pau decided to finish the date here.

“it was nice talking to you, y/n.” pau muttered with a soft smile as he looked at you.

“it was nice talking to you too.” you said as you and the boy you had just met today walked out of the café.

you were both outside, about to say your goodbyes for now, until you spoke.

“pau?”

“hm?” he replied with a slight eyebrows raise you noticed he did every time you said his name.

“can we do this again— soon?” you suggested, deciding to make a move since you liked this boy. he was almost… comforting, in a way.

pau looked at you for a moment, processing the fact that you just asked for a second date.

the brunette smiled as he answered, “yeah, can i get your number? so we can plan something?”

“yeah, of course.” you responded as you typed your number into his phone, the cold making your hands shaky.

“i’ll text you.” pau told you as he saved your contact in his phone.

“yeah, that’s fine.” you said, flashing him a smile.

“see you soon, y/n.”

“bye now!” you exclaimed as you waved him goodbye, him walking down the sidewalk.

the cold winter breeze made you take a sip of the to-go cup of hot chocolate you left with as you realized you were kind of already starting to miss this boy.

suddenly you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. reaching for it, you felt the cold glass screen of the phone from lack of using it this past hour.

you unlocked your phone to be met with a unsaved number.

“its pau” ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ “i had fun today, does next friday work for you?”

tysm for reading! all likes, reposts, and comments are welcome and very appreciated!!

[marsh-idiot]

Vampire! Levi Ackerman

cw: vampires, kídnapping, slightly possessive Levi, drúgging mentions, Levi is Mikasa's caretaker, ackermans are vampires, Levi is intimidating, reader is chained to a wall, blood (duh), blood drinking (duh), Jean is there for a second, gn! reader, no use of y/n (reader is as neutral as possible) wc: 5,075

pt. 1

You bring a hand up to rub at your face, as you start to blink your eyes open. When did you fall asleep? And where the hell are you?

“Morning. Seems you slept well.” A familiar voice sounds from just outside of your vision radius. So it wasn’t a dream, good to know. 

“Morning, did I fall asleep on your couch?” You ask, still disoriented from sleep. A yawn leaving you as you prop yourself up to look at him. The warm light of the room being still too much for your sleep-ridden eyes as you squint to only look at him. Your hand dropping down to the left side of your neck, which was a little sore, rubbing at it– trying to soothe the dull pain. 

“Yes, must’ve been tired. You’ve been out for a while.” The dull pain of your neck being on only one side as you try to rub it away– must’ve slept weird. Shifting to sit up, the sheets pulling as you move. 

“Oh I’m sorry, did you carry me to a bed?” You ask, looking down at the sheets wrapped around you. You look back up and see him nod, then gesture to a cup of tea sat by the end of the thin mattress. 

“You mentioned you liked this kind.” He says as you take the warm mug into your hands, taking a small sip– Cherry Blossom. 

“Thank you, is-what time is it? Why is it so dark in here?” You ask, holding the mug in one hand as you tug the blanket to wrap around your waist with your other. The only light was one small lightbulb, emitting a soft homey yellow glow, your eyes finally starting to adjust to the room around you. 

“Because you’re in my basement.” He answers curtly. 

“Weird place for a guest room, isn’t it?” You laugh, taking another sip of the tea as you slowly gain alertness– the clean yet eerily cold basement slowly setting in, the warm colored light doing almost nothing to warm up the room. 

He shrugs from his chair sat in the middle of the floor. “Doesn’t have to be homey, most people don’t stay for too long.” 

“Still, such a pretty house. Yet the guest room is a little bit… scary.” You stretch your shoulders, the left side of your neck still sending off a dull ache. 

“Well, others rarely complain.” 

“That’s because you don’t give them enough time to, Levi.” Mikasa says, sitting on the stairs. Her skirt thrown over the side of the unfinished staircase– no railing to stop her from swinging her legs on the side of the stairs. He looks back with a glare. 

“Oh, Mikasa. How was your… night?” You trail off for a moment, trying to remember why the teen had left the house at such a late time before you fell asleep. 

“Tasty, but not as tasty as Levi’s.” 

“Miksa.” He reprimands, the girl rests her hands on either side of her– her legs still swinging.

“Well, I’m sorry I fell asleep.” You rub at your face a little more, holding the teacup level in your hand as you try to stand up off the bed. You feel something heavy pull at your ankle, almost toppling you over and spilling the tea. You look back, the blanket and sheet covering your ankle. Tugging the blanket off as if that was what was tethering you to the bed, your eyes zeroing in on the heavy metal cuff on your ankle. 

“Sorry I had to chain you, but otherwise you’d run.” Levi says, standing from the chair for the first time. Mikasa giggling as she sees your confused face. 

“What do you mean?” You look at him. The thought of this being a dream crossed your mind. Levi had been so nice when you got here, letting you in, charging your phone for you, making you tea. 

“Mikasa, go upstairs please.” Levi says looking down at you, standing at the edge of the mattress– wait why is the mattress on the ground? Didn’t he say this was a guest room? 

“But it's always so fun to see them realize what’s going to happen to them.” She pouts, her hands holding onto the rafters of the ceiling, tilting her head to the side as she leans forward. 

“Mikasa. Go.” He turns back to her, glaring. His voice strong, a soft echo bouncing off the walls of the basement. 

“Fine, so boring. It’s not like I can do anything else, it’s sunny out.” She grumbles, ascending the stairs as you feel a small panic start to set in. When they realize what’s going to happen to them? What the fuck could she be talking about? 

Levi crouches down to be eye level with you. “Ignore her. How do you feel?” 

“Fine, uhm– can you let me out of these now?” You lift up your ankle, the heavy chain clinking as you move. 

“Not right now.” His hand goes to your neck, grazing the sore part of it. “I’m sorry your neck hurts.” His fingers are cold and light against your skin, barely even touching you. 

“Uhm, how-how did you know my neck hurts?” You look at the very serious man.

“It’s my fault really. I couldn’t help it. I usually stick to the arm, sanitize it each time. But there’s something about you…” He trails off, his fingers getting heavier as he touches on a sensitive area. 

“What? Levi, what are you talking about?” The fear starts to grow, a pit in your stomach growing heavier with each word that leaves his mouth. Your body littered with goosebumps, and you can’t tell if it’s from the cold of the basement or the growing fear.

“You won’t leave this basement will you? If I take it off?” He tilts his head, looking into your eyes. His gray ones dark and gloomy, only accentuated by the singular yellow lightbulb illuminating the room. 

“Can-is my phone charged? My friend has probably texted me by now wondering where I am– I should respond.” You stumble your way through your sentence– a lousy excuse for him to uncuff you and bring you upstairs. You could probably make a run for it from there, right? He’s just some guy after all. 

“It’s not charged. Don’t worry, Mikasa knows your friend and will inform him that you won’t be meeting him.” He pats your shoulder, standing up once more. For such a short man, he really towers over people well. 

“Won't be..” You trail off, fear rising.

“Don’t worry, I’m not a monster. You’re safe while you’re here.” He walks over to the shelves, grabbing an ornate hand mirror and walking back over to you. 

“Levi, I really don’t understand what’s going on.” You say as he crouches, holding the mirror to you. Your eyes going straight to the two marks on your neck– red and circular. 

“I really didn’t want to bite you on the neck– but I couldn’t stop myself. You smelled so good, and I couldn’t hold back.” He confesses, bringing his hand up to trail over to two marks gently. 

“You bit me?” Is the only question of yours that seems to make it out of your mind and into words. “Levi, why am I chained in your basement?” 

“Because I drugged your tea and chained you down here.” He says, pulling the mirror away to go put it back in one of the drawers of the shelf. 

“What the fuck. Why?” You can feel your heart beating in your throat, in your fingertips, in your chained ankle. 

“Because, you’ve been perfect so far.” He walks back over, crouching in front of you again, “And because I just couldn’t resist. Your heartbeat is so loud it’s almost overwhelming.” He brings a hand up to trail over the bite mark on your neck again. Your brain wants to jerk you away from his touch, but your body can’t move– frozen from fear or enjoying his touch even just a little, you have no idea. 

“You can hear my heartbeat?” Your voice comes out a whisper, a knot in your throat you can’t shake. His fingers trail the area around the bite mark with a grace that you wouldn’t expect, his fingers cold against your skin. 

“I enjoy you more than the others.” He says, his attention on the bite mark as his fingers trail it with ease– like he had touched you a million times. 

“Others?” You question, there were more people down in this basement at some time?

“Don’t take offense, they were just for food.” His hand trails to your cheek, cupping it. His palm cold and pale against your skin. 

“You eat people.” You mean for it to come out as a question, but your chest feels like it’s caving in on itself– hard to get the words out at all let alone get the right inflection. 

“Drink their blood, lovely.” The nickname is sickening, your stomach starts to flip at both. He looks into your eyes and opens his mouth in a smile to show his teeth. Long, long canines framing his smile– a tinge of red at the bottom of each one. You feel like you might actually throw up now, he did actually bite you. 

“You…” You want to say anything, yell at him in disgust, scream for help, beg him to spare you, beg him to unlock you so you can escape, anything. Yet… nothing comes out. 

“You said last night, you said it would be almost too perfect if I was a vampire. You said the idea of us existing would freak you out.” His hand on your cheek stays as still as a statue. Us existing? Is this some sick dream? You bite the inside of your lip to try to wake yourself up from this nightmare, biting down hard enough to draw the irony taste out. “Don’t do that.” He brings his thumb to your lip and pushes on it– pulling it from between your teeth. His attention on the small blood dot on the inside of your lip, his expression now stern. He swipes his thumb over your lip, bringing it to his mouth after. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you.” You whisper out as you watch him close his eyes in pure bliss at the taste of your blood. His eyes flick open and his hand grips your chin tightly. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me you asked?” He asks it like he’s spitting venom at you. “What’s wrong with you? Can’t wrap your head around me existing?” He leans in, your faces inches from one another. From him existing? Vampires existing would freak you out to no end. But he can’t be…

Your face must’ve given your thought process away because he smiles at you. “I think you finally got it. See, you’re smart enough.” He doesn’t make a move to back up– and you can’t, his ironclad grip on your chin holding you in place. Even if it wasn’t completely holding you in place, would moving be the best thing? Angering him might sign your death warrant. 

“You’re a… no.” Your body feels like it was turned to lead, your arms forgotten– left to sit on your lap, your legs too heavy to move, the chain too heavy and short to allow you to stand. 

“Yes. You said it would be perfect, well it is. And so are you.” He squeezes his fingers, puckering your lips and squishing your cheeks into a pout. You can hear your heartbeat, loud and rhythmic. Bu bum, bu bum, bu bum, bu bum. In quick succession, you fear it might give out if it has to keep beating this fast for much longer. 

“Perfect?” You croak out, you want to bring your hands up to his chest and push him away, scream out for help, maybe even run. But… vampire, he would be faster than you. 

“Perfect. Hundreds of years and no one has been this perfect. Your blood is addicting, your heartbeat is comforting and overwhelming all at the same time, your scent…” He trails off, leaning into the right side of your neck and taking a long breath in. He keeps your head facing forward, seeing him out of the corner of your vision. Hundreds of years? Fuck, he really might be a vampire. No, fuck that… you’re not that gullible. He’s just some freak. 

Duh-da-duh–bwah-na-na-naahh-ngghhh

The first few notes of Toccata and Fugue in D minor by Bach plays throughout the house– a small doorbell speaker on the wall next to the stairs. He groans and presses a kiss to your neck. Your stomach flips and you fight the urge to push him away, he can overpower you easily, there’s no way you could push him off you. His other hand holds your shoulder tightly. A sharp pain shoots through your neck, your blood rushing through your body– your body feels like it's burning. You yell out, trying to lean your head back to get away from the feeling– but his hand on your chin holds you in place. Your blood rushing around your body like it has no idea what to do, every single one of your nerves feels like it’s on fire. Your hands goes to his chest– pushing against him to try and pry his head away from your neck. His head on your chin slips down the side of your neck ever so slightly, his palm against your pulse point as his deft fingers hold your head up and out of his way. You’d never admit that even a small part of you enjoyed it, hell enjoyed wasn’t the right word– it excited something you had never felt before. 

“Levi!” Mikasa’s voice rings from the top of the stairs, your breath catches in hope as he pulls away. His teeth stained a dark red as he smiles at you. 

“What?” He calls back gruffly, his hands still on you as he looks over towards the stairs. 

“Jean’s here, should I let him in?” A small glimmer of hope, your friend was here? Or was this some fucking lie too? 

“I’ll be up in a second, let him in and get him comfortable in the living room.” He answers, Mikasa hums in agreement and shuts the door– the sound of the heavy door closing hurts your heart, was this what it felt like to have your hope slowly die? 

He turns back to you, a hungry look in his eyes. “Fuck, see? I can’t help myself around you. Everyone else I would only drink from their arms. But you…” His fingers trail your cheek delicately. He licks at his teeth, sucking off the deep red as he looks at you. “I’ll be back. If you’re good then maybe I’ll think of unlocking that little chain.” He looks down to your lips, jolting backward before he gives in and kisses you. Ascending the staircase quickly, a light shines from the door as he opens it. 

“Help! Please help me!” The second your yell sounds he slams the door shut, leaning down to look at you from under the rafters of the ceiling. 

“Don’t. Your voice will get all sore. Drink your tea and wait for me, okay?” His voice is serious, but he has a tinge of compassion– why the fuck did he care about your voice more than he cares about you possibly being heard? The light appears again for just a second before the door slams shut. A few ticks reverberating off the walls, then the basement plunges into silence. 

You look over at the tea, he probably slipped something into this one too. You won’t make that mistake again. 

“Someone! Anyone! Please! I’m in the basement! Help!” You repeatedly scream out, hoping that someone will hear you and be able to make it to you in time. As time passes your hope slowly dying along with your voice. As it grows hoarse your heart starts to feel heavy, no one was coming to save you. How stupid of you to even think otherwise, he probably soundproofed this basement a long time ago. 

“Don’t. Your voice will get all sore. Drink your tea and wait for me, okay?” His voice is as serious as he can make it– some care creeping through. Oh how he wanted to kiss you in that moment. But no, that has to wait for the perfect moment. The kiss had to be as perfect as you are. He quickly leaves the basement, locking the door behind him. 

Walking into the living room after smoothing out his top. His sister was sat on the couch with your friend, Jean, someone in town that Mikasa would hang out with on occasion. 

“Hello, Jean.” Levi sits on the couch opposite the two. 

“Hi, uhm… I have no other way of really asking this but, I had a friend coming into town and they haven’t texted me in a while. Do you know anything about it?” He asks, his words chosen carefully as he pauses throughout his sentence. The townspeople had an agreement with the Ackermans, they wouldn’t talk about any of it in exchange for not getting drained. 

“Why do you think we would know something about it, Jean? Are you implying something?” Levi tilts his head as he questions the man. He never liked Jean that much if he drained him it would be fine… other than the townspeople’s reactions, or Mikasa’s. At least Jean was better than that brat Eren. 

“Levi, don’t scare my friends.” Mikasa chastices from next to Jean, her skirt messily bunched up as she sits cross legged on the ornate red velvet couch. 

“Sir, I didn’t mean to imply anything but… their car is near your house. I just… I don’t want them to die is all.” Jean nervously fidgets with his fingers, picking at the skin around his fingernails as he sits on the couch. His posture as if someone had stuck a metal pipe in his shirt, his hands in his lap and his leg bouncing. The sound of his pants rubbing against the couch, along with your screams– which only the Ackermans could hear– were filling Levi’s ears enough to put him on edge. 

“Well… hopefully they’ll be fine.” Levi says back, his tone full of the unspoken things between the three. 

“That’s not good enough, Sir, please. Just promise me that I’ll at least see them again.” Jean begs from the couch. 

“Can’t.” 

“You know, I could call a town meeting about this. The agreement is you don’t drain townsfolk, and I think that should extend to our guests as well.” Jean’s tone turns curt and serious, his anger of the situation rising. 

“We’ve been here long before you, we’ll be here long after you. We are the reason you can live here, would you like that to change?” Levi asks, Jean knows he’s right but can’t help himself. 

“I really should drive a stake into your heart. You two got off lucky after Kenny drained-” 

“Jean!” Mikasa grabs his arm, stopping him from talking. Levi’s gaze turns deadly at the mention of it however. 

“We went through extensive town meetings about it, you know we didn’t agree with him.” Levi stands up, and in a second he had crossed the room– standing in front of Jean, the coffee table haphazardly pushed out of his way. 

“S-sorry, Sir. I just… I care about my friend.” 

“I do too.” Levi says curtly, his expression unwavering yet a small bit of care lacing itself into his words, despite his best efforts. 

“Levi really likes them. He hopes they’ll stick around for a while.” Mikasa says, knocking her shoulder into Jean’s. 

“Mikasa. Telling the wrong business to people, again.” Levi chides, his shoulders deflating a bit at Mikasa’s comment. 

“I hope the same, Sir. If it’s death or them becoming an Ackerman, I hope we get another resident in town. Even if the sun can’t shine upon them.” Jean says, staring up at Levi. His arm under Mikasa’s grasp tensed as much as possible– as if trying to fill out her grip more. 

“Then I suggest you wait it out, just like we are. Now, don’t you have a shift at the bakery to attend?” Levi steps back from him, moving the coffee table back into place with his foot. 

“Uhm-yes. I do, Sir. I’ll be going to that now. While-while I’m here do you need food for… no one in particular.” Jean points down the hall towards the basement door as he stands up and Mikasa lets go of his arm. 

“Yes, bring a few pastries by later, along with some bread.” Levi says, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Will do. Have a… hellish day?” Jean says as he reaches the front door. His tone questioning as he realizes he’s not sure what to say to the two creatures of the night. He had really only spoken a few sentences to Levi in the past, usually about what bread to bring by when needed. 

“Have a fine day Jean.” Mikasa nudges Levi as they stand away from the door. “Good day.” Levi grits out. 

Jean nods, quickly slipping out of a small sliver of the door so as to not allow sunlight inside. Levi walks up to the door and locks it behind him. 

“So… new family member, huh?” Mikasa questions, leaning against the heavily decorated wall. 

“Don’t think I don’t see the marks on your friends arms when they leave. You know you aren’t allowed to drain townsfolk.” Levi deflects, turning to face her with a knowing look. 

“They offer it. It’s legal if they offer it up.” She says back. 

“Stuck as a teen forever, the worst fate for me. Two of them fancy you, you realize taking advantage of that won’t last.” Levi corrects his cravat’s placement. 

“I’m 18, not some child. And that’s why I’m taking advantage of it while I can. Besides, they've started to ask me to turn them.” Mikasa rocks back and forth on her feet, her skirt swaying with her body. 

“I pray you’ve said no.” Levi says bluntly, moving down the hall towards the kitchen. 

“We don’t pray, we aren’t allowed.” She avoids answering, following him. 

“Never said to whom I pray.” Levi enters the kitchen, walking over to the cabinets– throwing them open in search of food. 

“You know… from where I was sitting on the stairs it almost looked like they had a mark on their neck.” Mikasa says, plucking dead flowers off of one of their hanging plants. 

“Say what you mean.” Levi responds, pulling out a few things– laying them on the counter to start preparing food. 

“You preach about how drinking from the neck is unsanitary and unsafe. I doubt you’d actually do such a thing, must’ve seen wrong.” She says with a leading tone, metaphorically backing Levi into a corner as she physically dead-ends the plant. 

“It is unsanitary and unsafe, especially if you are prolonging your meal– it’s hard to stop when you’re drinking from the neck.” Levi repeats the information he had told Mikasa many a time, cutting up fresh strawberries Mikasa had gotten from Armin’s family’s farm. 

“You really think they could become a family member?” Mikasa asks, gathering the dead flowers she had plucked, along with the tops of the strawberries, and tossing them out the window into the compost. 

“I don’t intend on making that call yet– too early to tell.” Levi lights the stove, the flame flickering under the pan he places on the burner.  

“You know that’s a lie. You hate almost everyone you chain down there, you’ve never broken your rule of arm only. For anyone.” Mikasa says, lifting herself up to sit on the counter next to him. 

“For some, rules seem useless and confining.” Levi murmurs, cracking an egg into the pan as the small cut of butter he had put in there melts and coats the bottom. 

“So, you’re willing to break your rules for someone. And that person just so happens to be locked in our basement.” Mikasa says as Levi reaches for a spatula to scramble the eggs; lightly batting at her knees as he glances over to her, not appreciating her sitting on the clean counter. 

“Don’t get your hopes up, for all we know they’re immune to our venom.” Levi stirs at the egg in the pan. 

“Food then, a good few years of food.” Mikasa claims cheerily– she’s always been more hopeful than Levi was. 

“Just like your little friends.” Levi comments, batting at her knees again as her skirt falls near the flame. She scoots away with a scowl. 

“You’ve found yourself a friend finally.” She comments as Levi goes to cut a slice of bread, placing it in their old toaster– if it works why get a new one? 

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Levi repeats, continuing to stir the eggs. 

“Fine. Just tell me if there’s any good news, I want to know if we have to clean out a room for them.” She jumps down from the counter, ruffling Levi’s hair before walking out of the room. Levi grumbles to himself about “insufferable teenagers” as he fixes his hair. Plating the food and swiftly walking to the bolted door, unlocking it with one hand and making his way down the stairs. 

“Please, help.” He hears your hoarse quiet voice whisper out– dried tears on your face as he makes it to the bottom of the stairs. 

“I told you to stop that and drink your tea. Now listen to yourself.” He scolds, kneeling to set the plate of food in front of you. 

“Won’t… lace me again.” You whisper out, small whine like noises lacing their way into your raw voice. 

“It’s just tea.” He picks up the now cold cup and takes a sip before placing it next to the plate. “If you would like, I can reheat it for you.” He offers, bringing a hand up to your face to wipe at the tear stains. 

“You brought me food?” You ask suspiciously, looking down at the food so you don’t have to look at the man in front of you. If you’re just food for him, what good comes out of feeding you?

“Of course I did. I wish for you to be comfortable.” He pets your hair out of your face, the gesture calming– if you weren’t chained in his basement. 

“Have to make your food comfortable.” You comment, your voice lost just like your hope of escaping. 

“If you’re good enough– you won’t be food for very long. You’ll be allowed up in the rest of the house again.” He pushes the food towards you, encouraging you to eat it. “Need me to prove it’s not laced either, or will you trust me?” 

“Not hungry.” You lie, your throat hurts too much to eat anyways. 

“I can hear your stomach, I’ll reheat your tea.” He picks up the teacup and stands up, looking down at you with a soft look spread across his face before he leaves. 

If you’re good enough… you’ll be allowed up in the rest of the house again. He would really let you out like that? Was he reckless or stupid… neither, he would have a foolproof plan– just like the basement and the stupid chain locked on your ankle. 

You brought your hand up to it again, trying to push your ankle through as his words spun around your head incessantly. The door clicks again and the stairs are creaking as he walks back down. You drop your hands back to your lap as you watch him carefully bring your tea over. 

“Need me to prove myself again?” He asks, kneeling down in front of you– holding out a cup of steaming tea to you. 

“How do I know you’re not immune to it?” You ask, still not trusting your captor. 

He shrugs in response, placing the teacup down on the ground next to the plate of food. “I added some honey, to help your throat. All I added. Cherry Blossom with honey.” He carefully sits down on the ground, brushing at the concrete flooring before he does. 

“What did you mean, I could be allowed up in the rest of the house again?” You ask, stilling yourself from reaching out and taking the tea to relieve the feeling of your throat. 

“I said you were perfect. You could become a family member.” He offers, you feel your stomach flip– in disgust or something else, you couldn’t tell– all you knew was the feeling was overwhelmingly fear. 

“A… family member?” You croak, it feels like there’s a boulder in your throat– the scratchy feeling replaced with a sinking feeling. 

He takes the teacup in his hand, bringing it to your lips, his other hand on your chin. “You must know by now, the house is quite big. It gets lonely, as does life after a while.” He explains as he gently tips the tea into your mouth– you swallow on pure instinct. 

“Mmpf.” You try to respond, but he keeps the teacup against your lips. 

“This offer is just for you.” His thumb caresses your cheek gently as he tips his chin to you, prompting you to swallow again. He pulls the teacup away, setting it down next to the plate again.

“Either die down here, or become one of you?” You don’t want to admit it, but you consider it for a moment– maybe even longer. 

“Seems like the two options.” His hand previously on your chin trails down to your bite mark. “These will heal in due time.” He comments, trailing his hand over to the one on the other side. 

“I have to make the decision?” You ask, your voice hoarse but slightly better. 

“Eventually, you can take your time. I have all the time in the world.” He smiles at you, almost mockingly truthful. Dropping his hand from you and standing abruptly. “I’ll be down later, eat. You’ll come to find I’m an alright cook.” He nods towards the plate, then swiftly leaves without another word uttered between you two. 

You stare at the plate, the question hanging on your heart, along with another thought. You didn’t appreciate the sunshine enough on your possible last day in it ever. 

part two is officially here! Hope y'all enjoy it, I was kinda cooking with this one.

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

wait for me (to come home) | pedri gonzalez

✈️ synopsis: A long day melts away when Pedri’s call lights up your phone. tags: long-distance relationship, yearning, phone sex, light smut. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 2k words)

The phone buzzes in your pocket just as you’re crossing the last busy intersection. You search with your bag, keys jingling inside, and finally swipe to answer. “Hey,” you say, your voice slightly breathless.

“Hey, bebé,” Pedri’s voice comes through.

The weight of the day is heavy on your shoulders – all the meetings, the crowded trains, and that faint ache in your cheeks from forcing smiles for too long. But his voice smooths it all out, like a sip of a warm cup of tea.

“How was your day?” you ask, stepping aside to avoid a couple walking hand in hand, their laughter breaking the silence around you.

“Long,” he admits, and you can picture him stretching as he speaks, his voice tilting back like his head. “But better now.”

He starts talking – about training and a bet Gavi lost that morning – and the background noise of his apartment filters through: the low sound of a TV, the clink of a cup on a table. His words fill the spaces around you, making the walk home feel less lonely.

By the time you’re climbing the stairs to your apartment, it feels like he’s climbed them with you. “Hold on,” you say, balancing the phone between your shoulder and cheek as you fumble for your keys.

The door swings open, and the familiar scent of clean laundry and your favorite candle greets you. You kick off your shoes, letting them land where they always do, and toss your bag onto the chair by the door.

“You still there?” you ask, suddenly realizing you’d left him hanging for a moment.

“Of course,” he says.

You set the phone on the counter, switching to Facetime as you shrug off your coat. “Okay, I’m home,” you announce, more for yourself than for him.

The screen brightens, and there he is – lounging on his couch, hoodie slightly rumpled, hair a little messy. “Hi,” he says, his face lighting up at the sight of you.

You laugh, opening the fridge. “So, what are you eating tonight?”

“I already ate,” he says, shifting around on the couch. “Now I get to sit here and judge your dinner choices.”

“Oh, great. Exactly what I need after today,” you say, scanning the shelves. “Hmm... leftovers, or... leftovers, or… leftovers?”

“Sounds tasty,” he says, giggling.

You lean against the fridge door, considering your options – or lack thereof. “I wanted something fresh, but I’m too tired for anything complicated.”

“Then don’t make it complicated,” he says simply.

You take a few ingredients out, set them on the counter, and start making your favorite quick comfort meal, all while Pedri watches through the screen. His gaze is somehow grounding, like he’s there in the kitchen with you. He teases you, making exaggerated reactions to your cooking process. You feel the heaviness of the day slipping away with every small laugh you share.

When your meal is done, you set the plate down on the table and settle into your chair. “Now what? Are you just going to watch me eat?”

“I miss watching you eat,” he says dramatically, then his tone softens. “I miss you.”

“Please don’t make me cry while I’m eating,” you say, half-laughing, half-serious.

“Just another week,” he says, putting on a big smile, like he’s reminding himself, too. You’ll be visiting him soon.

It’s insane, this whole situation. Long-distance was never something you thought you’d willingly sign up for. But it’s Pedri, and now it’s too late to turn back. You can’t imagine yourself with anyone else. Especially after a hard day at work, when all you want is the sound of his voice, the one voice that doesn’t make you feel more tired or annoyed with life.

“Just another week,” you repeat softly, taking another bite.

part 2

When you’re in bed, the phone gets propped up against a pillow, and you two start having those conversations, the kind you only have when it’s late, and the world outside your window is quiet. He talks about his plans for tomorrow, what training will look like, and you tell him about your week ahead, slipping your feet under the covers as you settle deeper into the pillows.

“I hate that I can’t just be there,” he says at some point.

You reach out instinctively, brushing your fingers over the screen, as if you could touch him. “Me too,” you admit, the lump in your throat betraying how much you mean it.

There’s a pause, filled only by the sound of your breathing and his. He shifts, lying down fully now, and you do the same, your phone resting beside you on the pillow so it feels like he’s right there with you.

“What if I was there?” Pedri asks you.

You close your eyes, letting the question sink in. “What if you were?”

“I’d hold you,” he says, in a whisper.

You smile faintly, eyes still closed. “And?”

He hums, the sound low. “Then I’d kiss you. Slowly. Just here.” He taps his thumb on the screen, where your cheek would be, and your breath catches.

“Would you?” you ask, your voice shaky.

“Everywhere,” he says softly, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes you press your face into the pillow, hiding a smile you know he can’t see.

When you peek back at the screen, his cheeks are pink, his eyes slightly averted like he’s trying to play it cool. But you know him too well. The blush climbs up your own neck and spreads across your face, your body temperature rising in that way only he can make happen.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumble, voice muffled against the pillow.

“Like what?” he says, though the tilt of his lips suggests he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Like you’re trying to see me naked!” you blurt out, your voice muffled by the pillow as heat rushes to your cheeks.

His laugh is soft, low. “Maybe I am,” he says.

You peek up at the screen, and he’s looking right at you. It sends a ripple through you, the kind that starts somewhere untraceable and spreads outward, leaving you warm all over. “Pedri…” you whisper, somewhere between a scold and a plea, though even you don’t know what you’re asking for.

“What?” he murmurs, “You’re the one who said it.”

“And now you’re just… staring,” you say, the words a little breathless as you shift under his stare.

“Can you blame me?” he asks, his tone tells you he’s getting more agitated. “You’re beautiful.”

The way he says it makes your chest tighten. You’ve heard it before, but it never feels rehearsed with him. It always lands differently, like he means it more every time.

You tuck your face into your arm, smiling despite yourself. “Stop. You’re making me blush.”

“I like it when you blush,” he says, the words soft, intimate. You look back at the screen, and there’s pink dusting his own cheeks.

“Look who’s talking,” you tease, though your voice comes out quieter now, your heartbeat a steady drum in your ears.

His lips part slightly, like he wants to say something but thinks better of it. Instead, he leans closer to the screen, the angle of his phone shifting just enough to catch the way his fingers brush over the collar of his hoodie, almost absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask.

He looks at you like you’ve caught him, but there’s no hiding it now. “You,” he says, so simply that it steals the breath right out of you.

There’s a pause, the kind that’s heavy but not uncomfortable. You shift under your blanket, the softness of it brushing your skin like a reminder that you’re here, in your bed, while he’s far away in his.

“Tell me,” you murmur, barely realizing you’ve said it aloud.

His voice lowers, and though the words are simple, the way he says them feels like a caress. He describes how he misses you, not just in passing but in detail – the way your hands feel in his, the way you laugh at his jokes even when they’re bad, the way you curl into his side when you’re tired. Each word feels like a touch.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he pauses. “Your turn,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips, though there’s a vulnerability in his eyes now.

So you tell him. Slowly, quietly, you let the words spill out, describing all the ways you miss him, need him, wish he were there. The conversation becomes a rhythm, like a tide pulling you closer to him with every wave.

The screen glows softly, illuminating his face in the low light of his room. You’re caught in the warmth of his eyes, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in his world. His cheeks are a deep pink now, a color that spreads all the way to the tips of his ears.

Then, he closes his eyes. His lashes rest softly against his skin, and his jaw shifts like he’s trying to find the words. “Can I…?” He pauses, his voice catching before he finishes, “Can I touch myself? Please?”

Your breath catches, and all you can do is watch him – his chest rising and falling, his hands fidgeting in his lap. Finally, you nod, your voice steady but soft. “Of course, papi.”

The way his body reacts is instant – his shoulders relax, his lips part slightly, and he exhales like you’ve given him permission to breathe. Your own skin prickles with warmth, a slow wave that travels through you as you shift under your blanket, suddenly hyper-aware of everything.

He doesn’t say anything at first, but the way his arms move tells you enough. The sound of his breathing, slightly heavier now, fills the space between your words.

“Tell me how you feel,” you murmur, as your pulse races.

He opens his eyes then, looking at you like he’s trying to pull you closer through the screen. “I feel…” he begins, his voice rough around the edges but full of something achingly soft. “Like I need you. Like I can’t wait another week.”

His words sink into you, settling somewhere deep. “I’m here,” you remind him, your own voice quiet but certain.

He looks at you with intensity. “Then show me,” he says, his lips parted slightly, tongue brushing over them like he’s waiting –  hungry, almost – for you to join him.

Your fingers hover at the hem of your shirt, heart racing. Slowly, you pull it over your head, the fabric sliding away to reveal bare skin. 

On his side of the screen, Pedri tugs at the neckline of his hoodie, pulling it off in one smooth motion. You both linger there for a moment, taking each other in.

He shifts, his eyes heavy-lidded as he studies you. “Does it feel good?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “Your fingers? Is it as good as me?”

You feel your cheeks burn, but you manage a soft, breathless response. “It’s good, papi... but you’re better.”

The corners of his mouth lift slightly, but the intensity in his gaze doesn’t waver. The connection between you is visceral, a pull that defies the distance. You can hear the rhythmic sounds through the phone – his breaths, your own movements – all blending together.

You lose yourself in the rhythm, in the quiet moans and whispered encouragements. It’s like a duet, your bodies and voices singing together despite the space between.

“Let’s cum together, okay, bebé?” Pedri murmurs, his voice shaking slightly, his head tipping back against the pillow as his eyes flutter closed.

You nod, even though he can’t see it, your voice catching as you whisper, “Okay.”

The screen glows softly, casting delicate shadows on his face and yours. His breathing grows heavier, mixing with yours, and though words fall away, the rhythm you share speaks louder than anything else.

And when the moment arrives, his name falls from your lips like a prayer, echoed by yours on his.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath.

“I love you too,” you say, sinking into your pillow.

[soiwj]

Pastry Present pt.2

Tasty Treat pt.1

Arlecchino x fem!baker!reader

Part 2 is heree!!! Im writing this one in broad daylight, so if i fuck up structure wise then you have the right to berate me :)

Request/Ask here

Life has been going pretty smoothly lately! Since you started working for the house of the hearth, your wallet has increasingly grown in size. Now that you have some extra mora, you get to spend it on things you want rather than only on things you need. Yet somehow, even when something is to be expensive, you always end up getting it for free, or the mora just somehow ends up in your pocket. You like to think the archons are watching over you that day, but little do you know it's a certain fatui harbinger pulling the strings.

Your relationship with the orphanage owner has increased, too. She invites you for tea in her office at times and always helps you out at your bakery whenever you need it. Yet whenever she does come over, she tends to linger, unbeknownst to you.

It's another beautiful morning as you make your way to the orphanage, box in hand, head held high, and seemingly beeming with happiness. You enter the orphanage, not needing anyone to open the door for you since you've received a key from Arlecchino. You walk to the kitchen, seeing Arlecchino setting up plates and cups. "Good morning, baker." Her sultry voice carries over to the doorframe you're standing in. "Good morning, Arlecchino!" You beam brightly as you skip to the preperation area. Arlecchino has done you a favor by carrying almost all of the boxes, leaving you to carry just one. "I carried all the boxes. Where did that one come from?" She leans against the kitchen counter after finishing setting up the plates and cups. "Oh well it's Timmy's birthday so I thought I'd make him something special," you open the box towards her so she'll see the little heart-shaped cinnamon roll.

"We have a strict meal plan here. We can't just indulge the children whenever we please." Her voice grows stern as she tenses up. Your smile falters, but you quickly recover. "I understand that, but a little treat now and then won't do any harm, right? Besides, it's a special day!" Arlecchino's brows furrow as she walks towards you, looking down at you. "Rules are rules. Consistency is important for these children," her demeanor reminds you of what everyone says about her.

You sigh, your frustration evident. "Arlecchino, I know you care about the kids, but I really think something like this is not gonna disrupt anything. Don't you think they deserve a bit of joy?" You plead with her.

Arle grasps your wrist as she pulls you closer, her frame towering over yours and her face nearing yours. Her eyes narrow as she looks at you. "You think I don't know what's best for them? I've raised and trained these children for years. Discipline and routine are what they need. Not some curdled snack." You look down at the box trying to figure out what she means. The cinnamon roll broke apart on your way to the orphanage. You put quite a lot of effort into making it, seeing it broken like this fills you with disappointment and sadness.

You see no point in arguing with her anymore since there's nothing to gift anyway. "You're right. I shouldn't have questioned your rules. My apologies." Tears fill your eyes as you start walking towards the entrance. "Wait, I didn't mean -" before she can finish the sentence, you've already stepped out of the building.

You're surprised when you get a letter in the mail. You open the envelope seeing a folded pieace of paper and... a picture? You take it out of the envelope, revealing timmy sitting in front of a plate of what looks like your frumbled cinnamon roll put together by force. Although it doesn't look like the most appetizing snack, timmy looks extremely excited in the picture. In the corner, you see a black thumb. You take the letter out of the envelope, surprised Arle did all of this for you.

The letter reads:

Dear,

I am sorry for my behavior today, I shouldn't have been so harsh on you. You are merely trying your best to make the children happy, and I do not want to seem ungrateful of that. I did not mean to upset you with how I spoke about your pastery. Your baking skills are immaculate, and I want to preface that I do not undermine it. I want to let you know that you may give the children treats from time to time, just not too much.

If you have the time this evening, I'd like to have some tea with you in my office.

Your employer friend

Arlecchino

Your mood lifts in a flash. You're thankful for such a wonderful friend. You pick up the picture as you stand, walking towards your fridge. Using a magnet, you stick the picture to the fridge and write the date on its white border.

Part 3 coming soon!!!

Im literally screaming at the lack of romance in this one what the fuck

I PROMISE ILL MAKE THE NEXT ONE REALLY GOOD!!

[alexanderlightweight]

Happy Wednesday! Hope all is well! Give nightshade a scritch and a treat! There is something wrong with my brain because you and saeths have labeled things as 3DNE and I read them and couldn’t figure out what was bad? I’ve been reading fic for too long.

Anyway I love Frost of Fury and All your cracks painted gold so could I prompt an update for either? :)

the night is going a lot better than the day so I think it's good enough ^_^

I have given nightshade several apple slices and some extra fish snacks so i assure you he has been happily pampered with extra care due to this ask. i mean he's spoiled af but he also got extra spoiling (I almost gave him a second chew bone but he's boycotting his kibble and topper again today and I don't want to reward him too much or fill up his stomach when he needs actual sustenance but is being a picky little biscuit). I try to rotate his food enough that he doesn't get bored but the problem is just because I rotate it doesn't mean he wants what I make or he doesn't like the texture the kibble becomes and will refuse. and he will spit it out if he doesn't like it!!! and he won't eat any kibble that falls on the floor and sometimes depending on how tasty the treat is, he won't eat those if they fall on the floor either.

sorry, moving on from my silly pupper. it's taken a while but this is for all your cracks painted gold and I hope you like it. some team immortal in that verse and soft malec ofc

also I mean something is wrong with my brain but I don't think it's that and I agree with you. i'm never quite sure which of my fics are 3DNE myself but I know quite a few of them are so I just assume they'll end up there at some point or another and plan ahead. plus while it's a soft obsession/possessive/violent adoration/literally salt and burn the world for you. it's still not healthy or condoned in real life context so therefore i'd rather be safe with my tags

<3 lumine

Ragnor’s cottage is warm and cozy despite the insidious dampness of the wet wind that presses against the windowpanes and the cold pitter patter of rain on the roof.  The fire dances merrily and Alec watches it, mesmerized in the way only those half asleep can truly be.

“He’s exhausted,” Magnus says from above him and Alec tries to protest but the words don’t make it past his lips, caught on the heaviness of his tongue.  “The Herbal Anthology you sent him had him up all morning. I woke up to find him still in the garden at noon and was going to make him nap when your fire message arrived.  There was no hope for him resting after he asked me not to use magic because he wanted to learn how to harvest the plants from me.” 

Magnus’ voice is soft and soothing, lulling Alec even further from consciousness as he blinks slowly, the room fading under the haze of sleep.

—

“I wasn’t expecting him to find so many of the plants I needed in that wild terrain you call a herb garden.” Ragnor mutters and Magnus finds himself shocked into silence by the sheer gall of his dear cabbage. If Magnus’ rooftop sanctuary is wild than Ragnor’s own garden — herb and otherwise — can hardly be called anything other than rabid. Even the few trails that only exist because of Ragnor’s frequent use can be described as nothing more than a faint impression in a landscape of bedraggled flora.

“Well, Alexander is quite clever in anything he dedicates himself to.” 

For a moment there is a peaceful quiet, the rain and the fire the only noise until Ragnor gets up to go put on another pot of tea and set up his phonograph to play a soft but hauntingly poetic violin. Magnus leans back into the sofa Ragnor had thoughtfully summoned so that it would be easier for Magnus to coax him into slumber.

There is a dreary comfort in the ambiance as Magnus accepts a hot tea from Ragnor, appreciating the warmth of freshly brewed tea through the delicate fine bone china cup.

Alexander makes a soft whuffling snore even as he turns, shoulders digging sharply into Magnus’ thigh before he settles, content to nuzzle his face against Magnus’s belly.

“How is he handling it?”

“Better every day, but still slowly.” Magnus smiles softly as he pets his fingers through Alexander’s hair while taking a sip of tea. “When I first met him I never imagined how wounded and tender he was under all his strength before I found him broken.  It was heartbreaking but also painfully beautiful, to see him find joy and hope again.” Magnus pauses for a minute and his smile turns sharp, “and of course I can’t deny how delicious his ardent devotion and dedication to me is.  I never imagined it would be like this.” 

—

Ragnor watches as Magnus smirk fades and he sighs in contemplation, “I never imagined someone could feel these kinds of things for me, not truly.  Especially not after my father and Camille. To be able to experience it is... indescribable. Whatever comfort I thought I’d found in life I realize now I was merely settling.  I could never give him up and he could never bear to leave and this—” Magnus pauses and then sets his cup down so he can press his own fingers to his heart.

“It’s freedom, Ragnor.  For us both from shades and wounds of the past.  If Camille asked me for help, I’d burn her on sight knowing that her mere presence is a danger for Alexander.” 

The confession is such a shock that Ragnor chokes on his pipe but he recovers easily enough and uses it as an excuse to blow his nose, carefully hiding any tears.  

Magnus would never judge him for crying but it would hurt him to witness just how deeply Ragnor’s relief and joy is.  It would give him a glimpse into how deeply Ragnor and Catarina have both worried and agonized over Magnus’ unhealthy but lingering attachment.  It’s deeply rooted in the night she saved Magnus — the only worthwhile thing Ragnor and Catarina think she’s done and one they are deeply grateful for — but she’d used that against him far too many times for them to ever help her again.

Camille lingers  like a festering wound even with decades upon decades between her and Magnus’ last meeting but finally, finally the stranglehold she’s had on him is gone.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ragnor cheerfully admits. “Now shall we leave your boy to rest and move to the study?”

Magnus’ glare is downright frosty at the mere suggestion and Ragnor chuckles and instead lifts his hands, summoning a new and larger table while Maguns quickly snatches his cup back up — saucer and all — before it can fall. Magnus' left hand hasn’t left Alec’s hair since the moment he started petting his shadowhunter and Ragnor would lightly mock him if he weren’t still so delighted by it all.

Maybe in a century or two the euphoria of Magnus finally having found someone to truly treasure and love him in the ways that he needs will wear off, but until then Ragnor will gladly enjoy this.

-

so the reason it says Alec stayed up all morning is they should have gone to bed before dawn and magnus fell asleep while alec read in bed and then Alec got too invested and ended up not actually going to bed and going back to the garden where Magnus found him when he eventually woke up because there was no Alexander cuddling against him.

and i've mentioned it before but ragnor, magnus and catarina really truly love and adore each other in a deep ride or die kind of way that will not break and betryal would never happen and they're never going to suspect each other. ragnor and cat were grateful to camille at first until she started fucking with Magnus and then basically gratitude didn't mean she could fuck with their friend.

ragnor is just truly fucking delight and he can't wait to portal over to cat the moment Magnus and Alec leave because he's going to spill everything and share memories so cat too can experience the joy of Magnus healing and being happy and confident in his joy and his own self worth which is all they've ever wanted for him

alec is asleep in an unfamiliar place after basically being tortured and that's part of the reason Magnus won't leave him and also why would he leave when he can pet Alec and keep an eye on his rest and make sure he doesn't have nightmares while also enjoying that it's his touch, voice, scent and magic that comfort Alec enough to let him sleep in a strange location especially unarmed and still learning what kind of powers come with his new runes or weapons he can wield.

ragnor is also thrilled because before Alec got interested in the garden it was a side hobby that Magnus only worked on or in when he remembered about it and was interested or wanted ingredients of higher grade

[pomefioredove]

hi bub! your christmas event is so cute! i'd like to order #10, a sugar cookie with whipped cream and chocolate drizzle <3

this prompt turned out to be pretty similar to another, so I decided to make it a two-parter! second part will be out tomorrow

part II

order #10, sugar with whipped cream, chocolate drizzle

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ opening old wounds I

summary: ruggie's first love is leona's new fiance(e) tropes: royalty au, exes to lovers characters: ruggie additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is not yuu, really leaning into the royal au here

It was never going to last.

Ruggie had told himself that before it was even over.

It wasn't going to last, and he knew it. He knew it well.

You were too good for him. And you didn't know it then, but you would. Royals don't marry penniless servants- they just don't.

They marry dukes and duchesses, counts, nobles, princesses and-

"Prince Leona," Ruggie sticks his hands in the pockets of the worn, thin, moth-bitten thing he calls a uniform.

The prince looks down at him, something in his eye akin to fondness, and then: "I told you to quit 'callin me that. Leona is fine,"

"Shishishi. I'll get in trouble with the head of staff if she hears me 'disrespectin you like that, your highness,"

Leona rolls his eyes, though he knows Ruggie is right, and he starts walking. Ruggie trails behind him, like a stray puppy looking for scraps.

"I'll tell Neji to lay off you. Is that what you want?"

Ruggie smiles. "Shishi. Maybe. You're in an awful generous mood today, Prince,"

Leona raises an eyebrow as they walk under the portrait of his father, regal and imperturbable and everything Leona wasn't. Everything that he was supposed to be.

"Don't get used to it. I've still gotta deal with the current royal pain everyone's convinced is gonna set me straight..."

Ruggie snorts. "Don't worry. You'll drive 'em away, like the last dozen suitors,"

Leona stops at an imposing pair of doors, to one of the palace's many lounges, his smiley servant right behind him. "Ready?"

The prince rolls his eyes and pushes them open, no interest in a quiet introduction. The finely-dressed, politely seated party at the other end of the lounge, look to the doors as they slam against the walls. Neji sighs. Leona's sister-in-law mumbles something into her cup of tea.

"Well? I'm here," he says, hands on his hips.

Falena stands, greeting his younger brother with a pointed glare. "Here you are, indeed. Half an hour late,"

"I was speaking with the ambassadors," Leona shrugs him off, walking into the room. Ruggie gets a few looks as he follows, but, thankfully, no one says anything. He'll sneak a few tasty hors d'oeuvres, eavesdrop on the drama, and be out of here in-

You.

You.

What are you doing here???

Though you wouldn't have known, the serving staff at the palace had just as many rules as the royals, and Ruggie was currently in violation of the two most important ones: he stops moving, and he stares.

At you.

Not that he can help it!

It takes a pointed glare from Leona (thank Sevens for him, honestly) for Ruggie to remember where, and who he is, and he finally moves, standing in the corner behind the royal ensemble, sweating like a sinner in church.

"Now, we can skip the formalities, and discuss the engagement," Neji says, clearing his throat and unfurling a comically long scroll. "Once the prince's engagement to Their Grace is announced to the peoples, a dowry will be expected. The dowry is traditional, more symbolic for our image than..."

Neji's lecture fades into silence as Ruggie stares at you. You're dressed in some frilly thing he can't imagine you like, sitting stiffly in your seat, trying very, very hard not to stare back.

He knows that you can see him, invisible as he is as a servant.

"...And that's not even accounting for the press. It will be quite the affair, we want to look cordial," Neji says, giving Leona a look.

The prince scoffs. "Come on. I'll play nice for the press until this is over,"

"Until the wedding," Falena corrects him.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Are we done here? I was actually speaking with the ambassadors before I was dragged over for tea time,"

The King Regent sighs, but dismisses Leona and Ruggie with a wave of his hand. He doesn't need to be told twice; he leaves, his servant not far behind.

As soon as the doors are closed again, Leona turns to Ruggie with a frown. "What's the problem?"

"There's no problem,"

"I hope you don't plan on an acting career," he scoffs. "So, what's the problem? You know something."

"Know something?" Ruggie laughs, almost nervously. He's usually much more convincing than this, damn it.

Leona crosses his arms. He doesn't speak, nor budge until Ruggie starts talking again.

"I... ah... have a history with the future in-laws. B-but it was a long time ago! Way before I worked at the palace, let alone knew you, and-"

He holds up a hand. "Stop talking. You and... them. Had a thing?"

"...Yes,"

Leona pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, as if that was the longest fifteen seconds of his life.

Ruggie opens his mouth. Leona holds up a finger, and he shuts it again.

"...Quiet. I'm thinking. I can work with this... Don't tell anyone what you just told me, firstly,"

"Done,"

"Secondly..." he rubs his chin, looking at the floor, a bit to the left. "...You're annoying as all hell. But you're charming. If you can get on my good side you can... yeah, that'll work."

Ruggie watches Leona as he thinks aloud. "What'll work?"

The prince looks back at him, and in a completely serious, unbothered tone: "You'll seduce 'em,"

"HUH?"

"Don't act like you weren't thinking the same damn thing in there," Leona scoffs. "Seduce their royal ass, convince 'em to elope with you, convince my family you're in love or whatever. You get the fiance, I get less headaches. No one'll ever know."

Ruggie stares at the prince as if he had just grown a second tail. "You can't be serious. No way that'll work!"

"It will if you're not such a baby about it!"

"This has nothing to do with me! It's a crazy idea, no way they're going to-"

The creak of the heavy doors opening makes both Leona and Ruggie go stiff and silent. The royal family- yours, that is, not Leona's- comes out, close together and quiet.

When you look over your shoulder, a pout on your perfect lips, you look at Ruggie. Not Leona.

And then you're gone, your family and you, the sound of ruffles and frills dragging across the floor getting further and further from the imposing doors and the two boys beneath them.

Leona turns to Ruggie with a smirk. "Well, well,"

"Come on, that didn't mean anything,"

The prince begins walking, and Ruggie is forced to follow. "But it could. Now, let's get talking. We've got a lot of planning to do if we're going to make this work,"

[bearw-me]

I loved you Drinking buddy with Husk work, can we get one for Alastor since it was revealed that he also was a drinker in episode 5.

Thank you

𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰/ 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫!

𐐒 includes : gender neutral reader 𐐒 cw : drinking/alcohol, fluffs, drunk rambling 𐐒 summary : platonic once again! nor would i be offended if you see a glimpse of romance lol 𐐒 note : trying to stick as close to canon alastor as i may possibly get (did yall know alastor is a whiskey drinker too?)

"a classy drunk"

likes to drink in lowkey settings, and not often in front of other people (think tea party but in this scenario the teacups have whiskey)

Alastor doesn't drink often but likes his hard liquor. . . i.e he is a whiskey man

if you can make Alastor laugh and feel just as light as the whiskey does. . . your definitely his one and only drinking buddy

Doesn't like sweet drinks at all

in fact i'd be willing to bet that he loves the way whiskey burns his palate and throat

he'd never talk down about what you prefer though, however strong or tasty you 'promise' it is

"Well, to each their own!"

Alastor would never usually let you pay to have a good time with him--like you literally never pay for your drinks unless you absolutely insisted

On that note, although he'd order Husk to get you drinks. . . he'd rather not involve the grumpy cat into his delightful night and do it himself!

Alastor never drinks until blackout. the most you'd see from him is a hellish buzz and a reddish burn to his already red face

Although you are Alastor's designated drinking buddy, he does consider you a friend outside of these circumstances

Loves to listen to his old vinyl's and record player while the two of you chat through the night (he's not a day drinker either)

"Good music and better conversations"

(Always goes on an on about how the sound of the record player and the voices that spin from the needle have soul and wonderful grit to it, compared to whatever you were going to play on that damned phone of yours. . . toss it before he does)

he likes to hum, not really noticing he is until you make it obvious by staring. maybe after he'd try to cover it up by asking you to dance with him

(while dancing) he'd like the spinning, so hopefully the two of you will be able to stay upright for a few more minutes to keep the fun up

I feel like you'd never see Alastor make a fool of himself, even with a few drinks in him, but

he'd love how hilarious you are "my drunkard friend!" he'd rather spend hours with you laughing then talking all serious (what's the point of drinking then?)

if you ever got blackout drunk (or far too gone) Alastor gets upset

he wanted to talk more and now your all limp and groaning from nausea

does take the utmost care of you though, you'll always wake up somewhere safe, either in your room or in Alastor's w/ plenty of medicine and water