#and I really think that’s a good description

[vanillarosekiss]

Eternally thinking about how Husband!Simon Riley would always keep you, his loving wife, nicely fed and fucked…

Pairing: Husband!Simon Riley x afab!reader

A/N: can you tell i need a bf? this is not proof read btw!

Warnings: heavy smut with no plot, highly descriptive sexual actions, mentions of cnc at the end, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people!) language, Husband!Simon Riley x afab!reader.

Simon took great care in keeping his wife happy. As a military man who’d been subject to changing his old ways, he had taken pride in the fact that his missus was always looked after, fed well, and fucked regularly as needed.

It’s sort of like taking care of a plant, he would think. A delicate house plant, capable of looking after itself at times, but needed some external factors to keep it growing properly. That’s what Simon was, your external factor. He would always make sure you’d had something to eat, allowing you to cook for him occasionally but also taking the same duty for you.

And he was a great cook, underrated really, many didn’t know how good his culinary skills were. Of course, you did.

He would get back from a day of work, exhausted and fed up, but wouldn’t allow himself to sleep until his missus had been eaten out properly and had a sufficient orgasm. After all, you were the one who cared and loved him so much, so you should surely get a reward, pretty girl?

He wouldn’t leave you hanging either, best belive it. He came home one day, finding you trying to work yourself up to orgasm. Silly girl, don’t you know that it’s Simon’s job? He would pull your hand away from your already soaking pussy, immediately delving down on it with his mouth, hot and ready to work for a reward. Your hands would grip onto his short blonde hair, moaning his name as he devoured your mound, his nose occasionally catching your clit and creating the friction you so longed for. He would continue these ministrations for a while, his thumb coming to help work you by rubbing small clockwise circles on your delicate nub, building up the pressure over time. As you writhed around, already overstimulated after coming on his mouth once, he wouldn’t stop, knowing you could take more.

“Come on, lovie, i know you can take it” he would coax you into orgasming again and again until you were all fucked out. He would usually put his needs aside, unless he had a particularly stressful day. In this case, he’d apologise for riling you all up but doesn’t he deserve a treat once in a while for looking after you so well?

“That’s it baby, take it all like the good wife you are” he would groan as he stuffed your pussy with his hard cock, precum leaking from the soft pink tip that was now almost hitting your cervix. He would undoubtedly finish in you, apologising profusely for the mess. He would obviously clean you up, the gentleman he is, only after fucking his cock back into you gently once or twice. What? He didn’t want his seed going to waste.

i must be ovulating because i cannot stop THINKING about him recently.

[aro-absol]

[ID: A digital comic with a simple drawing style. It consists of long text that is accompanied by small drawings, matching what is said in the text. The text reads as follows: "I've always been a big reader. I was treating earlier and faster than most of my peers my whole childhood. [Three books: one is titled "Magic treehouse" and has the caption "kindergarten", one is titled "Harry Potter" and has the caption "first grade" and the last one is titled "Percy Jackson" and has the caption "third grade".] and my tastes have alwaystended towards the magical. fairytales, myths, and fantasy have been longtime favourites as far back as I can remember.

As I got older, my tastes didn't change all that much. They did expand, to being ok with things like horror, violence (and mild gore), death... As children's tastes tend to do. But I still loved fantasy stories just as much. When I hit eighth grade, however, they noticed a bit of a problem. I was getting a bit old for a lot of the middle-grade fiction books I liked. I thought: "Okay, sure! I've read adult-level books with no problem before, I'll just head for the fantasy section!" I asked a couple of friends for book recommendations, and culture reading except… [A drawing of many different scraps from books, all clearly from romantic and/or steamy scenes] ... All of it was just so stuffed with sex and romance. [A drawing of a person shaking their heads in disbelief and saying "ew" while reading the book, with an arrow pointing to them saying, "14 and very aro/ace"]

Needless to say, I did not want to read those books (and haven't to this day.) Thought bubble of the person just described continuing: okay, this is probably just my friend's stuff. I know they like these kinds of things. I'll just look for myself! [A drawing of a person standing in front of a big bookshelf that is labeled "young adult and teen fantasy". There are many different phrases pointing to the box on the shelf. The phrases read: "sex scene on the first page", "sex", "twilight", "romance "' subplot'", viscerally upsetting description of making out", "fade to black sex scene", "no sex but only technically", "sexy elves", essentially a romance really", "insane amounts of kissing".]... you gotta be kidding.

Over the years since then, I've tried to find fantasy stories that I can actually enjoy. [A drawing of a list titled "typically good". The bullet point read: D and D based (sex jokes but party focused), comics, fanfic, older media (pre-90s), MG fiction (last resort)] I've had some success at finding patterns that work for me, but a lot of these categories are very digital. (At least for me.) And because of that, all the time I once spent reading is now on my phone.

I don't really know where this is going, or what the solution is. Most people do like sex and romance, and reading about them. And this is just a thing for making a terrible comic day. I think it's pretty common for aro and/or ace people to feel left out, since so often these are treated as universal ideals. But to anyone feeling that way: I promise you are not alone. Also, allos: get better writing material, seriously. And better friends, since yours are apparently so terrible you can't write deeply meaningful relationships without kissing. (Half joking.) / End ID]

Note: this image description is not fully complete, as I left out some smaller drawings that I couldn't add into the text in a way that makes sense and weren't crucial for understanding. Also, I apologize if this description isn't clear to people who use screen readers but I do not know how to make it any better. If you have any suggestions, tell me please.

My (late) contribution for Make A Terrible Comic Day! I've been going to the library more often lately so this has been coming up a lot, cause I want something to read but have had trouble finding anything that I'm comfortable with.

If anyone has recommendations please please let me know because I am struggling.

[thefreakandthehair]

you could be bad, but I wanna find out.

written for @steddiemicrofic ‘guard’ | wc: 532 | rated: mature | tags: goalie!Steve Harrington, fan!Eddie Munson, alternate universe- no upside down, different first meeting, meet ugly (but it's still cute), bars, alcohol mention, description of sexual activity, humor, big mouth!Eddie Munson, long-suffering besties Gareth and Jeff

The bar is buzzing with excited fans, humming with an energy that makes Eddie feel looser and lighter than the Budweiser ever could. Surrounded by a sea of black and red jerseys that line the long, narrow bar, Jeff and Gareth laugh and shake their heads. 

Eddie hasn’t stopped rambling since the Blackhawks won, and he has no intentions of stopping anytime soon. 

Not after a win like that— a shutout win that tore the roof off of United Center. 

And certainly not after the Blackhawks goalie guarded the net like it was his treasure and he, its dragon. 

Sure, it helps that Steve Harrington is definitely the most beautiful man to ever grace an ice rink, but it’s the competence that gets him. Watching Harrington bend and stretch his limbs into pretzel-like shapes, coming up with the puck and an unhinged grin, really gets his motor running.

“I mean, did you see him?” Eddie asks for maybe the tenth time since sitting at the shiny, shellacked bar. “Jeff, you get it, right? You see what I’m seeing, right?” 

“I see a guy who’s really great at his job, and I see another guy who sounds insane. Guess which one you are?” Jeff snorts into his beer and takes a sip. 

“Gareth, buddy, surely you can understand where I’m coming from. Remember the first time you saw Lars Ulrich?” Eddie turns, knocking his shoulder against Gareth’s. 

“Duh, dude,” Gareth leans forward and yells in response, the bar erupting into cheers and more drunken celebrations. “The difference is that I wanted to be Lars Ulrich. You want to fuck Steve Harrington.” 

Eddie clutches his chest in feigned offense and feels himself being pushed against the bar as the building fills up with what must be the final wave of fans leaving the stadium. The bartender nods behind him with a knowing smile and passes a draft beer over Eddie’s shoulder into a large, veiny hand. 

“Okay, fine,” Eddie concedes, resting his own drink on the bar. “You’re right. The way I would fuck Steve Harrington is obscene. I’d let him violate whatever obscure, unknown Bible Belt laws he wanted. He's a ride I wouldn't survive. The wheels would come right off.”

“Uh, Eddie?” Jeff tries to interrupt but Eddie’s having none of it. 

“Nope, I’m not done. That split save? The way he guarded his crease? And for a fucking 36-save shutout? Holy shit.”

“Ed—” Gareth tries but Eddie steamrolls him, too. 

“What is it you call it, Gare? A competency kink? Well, sure. Fine. Call it what you want, but he’s so good at what he does. I need him in a way that would disappoint my grandmother, and not just because she was homophobic."

A hand— the same hand that had reached over him to grab the glass just a few minutes ago— pats him on the shoulder and when Eddie turns around to see who the fuck is touching him, he nearly falls off of the wobbly stool.

Steve Harrington grins, a drink in one hand and the other still resting on Eddie’s frozen frame. 

“I think your grandmother would’ve liked me,” he shrugs. “I have a way with families.” 

[aliusfrater]

related to nick's post. you can't even make this stuff up

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Sensitive.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!reader

Words count: 1300 (more or less, I added something just before posting it)

Warning: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You make Frankie come just by playing with his nipples. That’s it, that’s the fic LOL

Tags: pov second person, reader has breasts, nipples and hair, no other description of her is given, pwp, nipples play (YAS we play with the man’s nipples wooo), ice cubes, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), established relationship, dick pronouns for @sp00kymulderr’s challenge, kissing, Frankie obviously has a huge cock, I think it’s all? Let me know if I missed something and I will add it right away.

A/N: I've been wanting to do this for a while now because I'm a big fan of nipples (gender neutral, folks, we don't discriminate here, I can love a variety of them) and those Pedro pics yesterday uhm…inspired me lol English is not my first language, I have no beta, any mistakes are my fault, I’m so very sorry 💀

I also did it because every time I use the translator to check my English, whenever I type something nipples related, the translator always uses she/her and it pisses me off.

I hope it's not cringe, if it sucks pretend you've never read it, please, I love you all bye.

I started a tag list, let me know if you want to be added, thanks so much!

Frankie has sensitive nipples.

You discovered this by accident, while you were in bed together after he had fucked you like a god. Your hand wandered over his chest and brushed against his areola. Frankie fidgeted, tried not to show it but the involuntary flinching of his body spoke for him.

He kissed you right after just before you could ask anything so you didn’t investigate any further but you were so intrigued by it. You kept thinking about the way he squirmed under your touch for days and craved to do something more for him.

You have a thing for nipples. For his especially.

Both because you love him and because they are delicious. You also don't like the fact that yours get all the attention while his have always remained two neglected little buttons on his chest while you’re pretty sure you could make good use of them.

Tonight is the time to change that, at least to try.

As you kiss on your couch his hands instantly fly to your tits, he massages them, squeezes them and as much as what he's doing drives you crazy you keep thinking that you would like to do something for him.

“Frankie” you breathe between kisses and he whispers on your lips “what, honey?”

“Nothing… it’s just…”

“What?” he interrupts you “did I do something wrong?”

You smile in front of his worried eyes “no, you’re perfect, really. I just…” you hesitate but in the end you spit it out “I would love to try something new”

Frankie smirks under his mustache “uh, what’s in that scrumptious little head of yours?”

You giggle, feeling your courage grow as you slowly run a hand over his chest still covered by his shirt, starting from his neck, down his collarbones and then his pectorals.

“I would like… uhm… I would like to play a little game”

Frankie’s eyes sparkle with curiosity mixed with excitement “you know I like games”

“Okay, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, baby” he says right away, brushing your arm gently and looking you sweetly in the eyes.

“Let’s go to bedroom then”

You stop in the kitchen to get some ice cubes that you put in a glass as he watches you, still confused but definitely aroused “What are those for?”

“You'll find out soon enough” you take him by the hand grinning, lead him towards your room which has now become yours and you have him stand in front of the bed.

“Take off your shirt” you order him “and your jeans”

“I already like that,” he chuckles.

“Lie down,” you tell him soon after, playfully pressing a hand to the center of his chest.

You place the glass on the bedside table and undress, remaining only in your underwear while he cranes his neck to look at you and licks his lips full of anticipation.

“My favorite view…” he whispers and you giggle, crouching on the bed right next to him “Now listen to me, you can’t touch me but I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Frankie sighs “okay”

“Can you behave for me?” you raise an eyebrow watching him ironically.

Frankie lets out a more convinced “yes” and you praise him “such a good boy for me”

You brush your fingertips over his chest again, going down over his sternum, then over his stomach and belly, stroking the thin strip of hair that disappears into his boxers. "I think he'll like this," you whisper, watching his half-erection rose from beneath the fabric.

“He’s looking forward to it” he nods with a crooked smile.

Of course he expects you to touch him right there, but your hand goes back up letting a little protest leave his lips.

You stop on one of his nipples and your fingers graze all around the areola.

Frankie squirms, widening his eyes, mouth agape “oh fuck, is that what you want to do?”

You purr “exactly. Can I go on?”

Frankie swallows air, his Adam's apple pops in his throat, then murmurs, “Go ahead.”

“Shall we bet he will come untouched?” You suggest.

“We’ll see. Don’t make him wait further, gorgeous, do your thing” he urges you.

You begin to caress his skin, moving closer and closer, Frankie watches you mesmerized as you feel his body tense under your fingers.

You rub his areola again and then pinch his nipple. He gasps loudly “Oh fuck”

“Everything okay?” You murmur.

He frowns noticeably and nudges “yes.”

You alternate between pinching and rubbing, feeling his breathing get heavy and shorter as his cock swells under his boxers. You shift only long enough to pull them down and expose his huge engorged dick to your view.

“So much better” you purr “I need to see him”

You return to your seat beside him and remove your bra, smiling mischievously at him. Frankie tries to raise his hand to reach out to feel you but you rebuke him, " Hey, no! You can look, but don't touch, remember?”

He blurts out, “That's not fair,” and you chuckle, “I feel like he's doing just fine anyway. The best boy," you tease him.

You take an ice cube and pass it over your lips, you suck on it lightly and small drops of water slide down your chin, you place it back into the glass as Frankie lets out a needy moan. His pupils are dilated and his lower lip quivers slightly, he is absolutely delicious.

You reach down and your nipples brush against him, “You can feel them like that, can't you?”

He sighs “yeah…okay”

You stick your cold tongue out and run it over his and he groans “oh baby”

You eye his cock rise higher and higher until it comes flapping against his tummy, hard and swollen and its pre cum begins to drip from the tip along its length.

Your tongue circles his nipple, again and again, then you flick it and you nibble it lightly and Frankie's back arches as he gasps, "Holy fuck, baby, you're killing me."

Your mouth and ice-cold lips stir all his nerve endings just as you expected.

You smile pleasantly impressed against his skin ”you like that, huh?”

“God, yes” he breathes “fuck”

He groans loudly when you detached, taking an ice cube again and sucking it between your lips, then lean over his chest to reach the other nipple as you continue to rub the other with your fingertips.

His chest rises and falls faster and faster as your tongue strikes sharply and precisely, your other hand resting on his arm to steady you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop please I’m so close” he whimpers “fuck - just like that baby”

You continue until his cock is on the verge of bursting, then you move your hand to take it and finish him off.

“Come for me, Frankie, come on” you urge him “Give it all to me, baby” just like he does every time he’s in control and his response is immediate, he comes in your palm after a few strokes, long streaks of sticky cum painting your hands and his tummy as he whines.

You get between his legs to suck him clean, welcoming his cock between your lips and giving him what he wanted from the beginning after what he didn’t know he needed.

You suck him until he softens and then you lie in his arms, quietly enjoying his warmth. He is the first to break the silence, after kissing your nose and your forehead "damn, baby, you knocked me out"

You lift your gaze to his and smile "you didn't imagine that huh?"

"He didn't imagine it either," Frankie laughs.

"I told you he would like it" Frankie caresses your cheek and you reach out to kiss him, his taste still on your lips. "next time you play with mine while I play with yours" you coo.

He retorts, “just give me some time to rest and I’ll show you right away”

Thank for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away ♥️

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: a Reddit post on r/dating_advice by u/ratsmacker47 titled "Going on a date with a trans guy, would it be wrong to call him "Big dog" as a greeting?" The post says "I'm 24M, bisexual. I've dated mostly women or trans women in my life so i'm not really good at interacting with guys but recently I hit it off with a trans guy off Bumble.

He doesn't present masculine but does not refer to himself as anything other than male and I want to honor that and give him the full guy-to-guy experience, i'm thinking of dapping him up and saying something like "What's up big dog, how's it going, i'm ratsmacker" or something.

Would that be too guy-ish? Any advice is welcome."]

[A screenshot of the notes on this post showing tags from two different reblogs, which say:

succeededdog: #this would not work on me

faileddog: #this would work on me]

[Tags which say #completely missed that ratsmacker was op's username #had a moment of 'shit is this a cis guy thing idk abt?']

Would being called big dog fix me? Who knows?

[writingblogsandothers]

The Chosen One

Part 4

Writer's Note: Peoples - thank you all so much for the support. It has been really endearing. Forever grateful. Please accept my apologies if I have missed someone off the tag list! I'm finding it hard to navigate the world of tumblr, so I ask you to please be patient with me! Sending all the love, as per X

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear (nothing descriptive)

Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Rudely awakened by Alba opening the curtains allowing the morning’s light filter through, Aurelia groaned as she stretched out her weary body.

“Good morning My Lady. I hope and trust that you slept well?” Alba asked her.

“Yes, thank you. I fear I have a lot to accomplish today. I am to meet with a palace planner?” Aurelia responded. Tearing away from the curtains, Alba took to tidying the linens which Aurelia had just risen from. “Yes, My Lady, that is why I have fetched you. They are waiting in the planning room of the palace. Let us get you washed and changed, and take you to meet them.”

Aurelia tread to a new part of the palace which she was yet to encounter. As she approached the room she could hear raised male voices, Alba reached forward to knock to which she was greeted with speedily opening doors, and two extremely contrasting figures standing behind. One was extremely tall and thin, meanwhile the other was short and rather plump.

“My oh my, Lady Aurelia. The Emperor has chosen well. Please you Highness, please come and sit and let us discuss.” The taller of the two elated as Aurelia thought it was much too early in the morning to be this chirpy.

She sat on the beautifully embroidered cushion which padded the heavy wooden hair, dress catching the fine wind as she lowered herself down. The pair looked at her in awe, there was something so simple, yet breathtaking about her. They knew of the Emperor’s way, particularly his brother and prayed to the gods that they would be kind to this innocent child.

“My Lady, allow us to introduce ourselves, my name is Decimus, chief textile co-ordinator here at the palace, and this is Faunus, my handmaiden.” the taller of the two joked. Faunus turned in fake-disgust, “As if! I think you’ll come to find dear Lady Aurelia that Decimus is the lesser important of the two of us… I am the chief seamster, I am responsible for most gowns in the palace, although I do have my minions. I trust and pray you like our creations which you have seen so far, like what you have on you now.”

Aurelia appreciated the pair’s light-heartedness. It was soothing in an environment which seemed so hostile or ‘egg-shell’ like. She giggled in response to them, “It is a pleasure to meet the both of you, and yes, thank you for your kind creations and alterations; they have been nothing slight of spectacular.” The pair nodded with Decimus starting, “Ma’am, shall we begin the planning? We have much to accomplish today as we have a meeting with Emperor Geta this afternoon to go over our designs.” Aurelia nodded and so the planning began.

The first item for discussion, and arguably the most important, the wedding gown. They started off with the overall shape of the dress. The dress flowed at the bottom, with an almost small pleat right round the skirting area. The top half was gathered fabric, which came in two halves covering each breast, leaving a considerable gap between. The plunge made its way right down to where the skirting started. Decimus grabbed fabric he had to hand, and started to pin the dress as he had sketched on the page. Faunus stepped back to admire Aurelia, but looked puzzled “There’s something missing…” Decimus agreed. The pair decided to grab two small gold clasps, and attached one to each shoulder, which left the arm even more exposed. The skirt was then added with a laurel leaf belt to tie the gold on the shoulder in. Aurelia looked at her reflection, almost taken away by the beauty of the dress.

“Does anyone know what the Emperor’s favourite colour is?” she asked inquisitively.

“I believe Ma’am, it is crimson red.”, Faunus drawing a piece of fabric from his collection to show her an example of the colour. Aurelia took it in her hands and created a quick-win shall, spanning across her back, draping over her forearms. The two designers stepped back and sighed, “That’s it. The dress is complete.”

“Now, we must discuss your garments for after the ceremony.” Decimus stated.

“What do you mean? I have my dress, that will suffice all day?” Aurelia asked. Decimus and Faunus looked at one another and burst out laughing – this girl truly was innocent.

“My Lady, upon marrying the Emperor, you are essentially signing yourself over to him. Body and mind. Enjoy your liberty freedoms now, as once you are married, you must obey every word that Emperor Geta mutters.” Faunus explains.

Decimus could see the worry and confusion in Aurelia’s face, so he begins, “Lady Aurelia, let us explain it gentler. Ignore Faunus and his harsh realistic world formalities. When you are married, that later evening, you must celebrate with your new husband. By celebrate, I mean to form your bodily unions and consummate your marriage.”

Aurelia takes a step back and nods, “Ah, yes, right, okay. Erm, yes, we need to ensure I am to please the Emperor, I do not wish to disappoint.” The pair giggled at her awkwardness and began drafting new garments for her to wear.

The rest of the wedding textiles were based around the choices made for the dress, and once all was finalised, Aurelia suddenly felt a huge wave of emotion come over her, breaking down crying instantaneously. Decimus approached the soon-to-be Empress, asking “My Lady, what ever is the matter? Is there something not to your liking?”

Aurelia sniffled, “People, please forgive my outburst. It’s just that I miss home and my family. I would love for my mother to be here to help me make these decisions, I’m just a bit overwhelmed.”

The duo felt a pang of deep sadness for the young girl. She had been thrust into this position through no fault nor want of her own, and it must be an extremely hard transition. Faunus began, “My Lady, I’m sure your family will be cordially invited to the wedding? Have you asked the Emperor?” Aurelia shook her head, “No, the Emperor and I haven’t discussed really anything as of yet.” Faunus sighs, “My Lady, at our review I will plant the seed. Please do not feel such sadness, you will be best looked after here.”

Aurelia sighs and goes back to planning for what should be the happiest day of her life.

***********************************************************************

She left and retired to her quarters, while she knew the meeting was going on with Geta. She took to sitting on one of the many reading windows scattered throughout the main hall; a book on a love which seemed unrealistic at the start, which blossomed into something so strong that it could conquer for the ages to come. How ironic, she thought. Alba burst in through the doors in a mild panic, “My Lady, Emperor Geta wishes your presence in the courtyard to go for a walk.” Aurelia rises from her perch, leaving her book in its place.

She made her way down the vast hallway, and saw a tall figure at the end. She knew from the stature it was him, she bowed gently at him on approach, to which he offered his arm in which for her to link as they made their way into the courtyard.

The walk was silent, each taking in their surroundings and any activity they could hear going on. Geta broke the silence, “I spoke with Decimus and Faunus. They showed me the designs.” Aurelia looked at him through her long, dark lashes. “For a commoner, you have great taste. There were no amendments, all is to go as you planned.”

“Thank you, my Emperor.”

Geta groaned leaving Aurelia with a degree of fear, what did she do wrong? “Aurelia, what did I tell you last night? When we’re together and others are not around, it’s just Geta. No need for the pageantry.”

“Sorry Sire. I mean, Geta.” Geta looked at her with fierce eyes, then broke down laughing. He pulled her along as they began to walk once more. She sighed in relief, smiling to herself knowing she made him laugh.

“I appreciated the sentiment with the colour scheme. The pair told me of your desire to include my favourite colour.”

“I thought it only fair, considering it is both of our days.”

Geta hummed in agreement, “It made me realise that the union we have will solidify your loyalty to me and the empire. You will be greatly rewarded for your actions.”

Aurelia thanked him. Bravely, she spoke, “Geta. I wish to include my family at the festivities.” He stopped in his tracks, tensing at the idea. He stared intently at the woman, taking in her puppy-dog eyes, with her hair blowing in the wind. If his brother seen this weakness, he feared he would be ripped off the throne. What was it about her that made him go almost soft in nature?

“Okay.”

Aurelia stepped back in shock, “Do you truly mean it?”

“Yes. Prepare the letter, I will get one of the guards to deliver it.”

“Oh Geta, thank you!” Out of instinct, she jumped up and hugged the Emperor. He froze at the prospect of such tactile affection. Aurelia stepped back, and bowed her head, “Please forgive me for my outburst, it was unacceptable. I am sorry.”

Geta cleared his throat and took her arm once more, saying nothing but walking toward the direction of the living quarters once more. He dare not show the electricity that ran through him when she hugged him. That was weakness, and weakness? In his game? Costs lives.

***********************************************************************

Aurelia makes her way back to her quarters, and grabs her writing apparatus. She begins to pen a letter to her family;

“Dearest Mater, Pater, Evander and Claudius I hope this letter finds you all well.

I am writing to inform you that Emperor Geta and I request your presence at our marriage ceremony this coming Dies Vernes.

I would also like to affirm that I am well, and the palace life is treating me kind.

Dearest family, I wish only for your presence and kind support on this day.

Your loving daughter and sister, Aurelia”

She only wished could be more transparent of the occurrences, she feared a guard or other could see her writing so she felt it best to keep all neutral. Walking out of her quarters, she was met with a guard who was readily willing to accept her letter and deliver to her family. She curtly nodded and thanked the guard and sent him on his way.

Sighing she watched the guard walk down the hallway with authority, praying her family would see her request through.

[coralchoral]

honestly thinking about the sonadow twitter takeover and how the plummeting to earth thing very much affected Sonic a lot more than it affected Shadow. like in a previous takeover Shadow even made it a positive memory about Sonic trying to save him.

Meanwhile in Prime, Sonic has a moment of saving Shadow from falling into the void that's very reminiscent of that other fall (in the same way Prime has a lot of motivations and references that only make sense from a fandom insider perspective).

Sonic also gets repeatedly tilted, loud and anxious, (which I'm pinning more on RCS's/whatever writer's sense of humor, as is all the voice acting gags) and is coping badly any time Shadow comes out ahead. I think Sonic's insistence on his ability to grow chest fur is as big a Cope as floaties=fashion statement.

But really, Sonic's repeat date suggestions and Shadow's own descriptions of Sonic's behavior (dragging out their races, etc "just to annoy me") reads, whether romantically or platonically, that Sonic just really wants to spend time with Shadow.

He feels he needs to justify it, though, insisting that he and Shadow have something other than occasionally getting in each other's way ("two sides of the same coin") (friendly competition being "why you keep me around-" seemed like odd wording to me).

Needing to make it meaningful, because that's what Shadow wants out of a relationship- Shadow /says/ he dislikes Sonic for being frivolous and inauthentic, that (for instance) his hugs don't mean anything, and that he doesn't want "(Sonic's) kind of hug."

Sonic really wants to spend time with Shadow because he's also intimately aware that that time is limited. Either Shadow's patience (and/or social battery) is limited and he's liable to make a batman exit if he doesn't want to be somewhere (not that we've ever seen Shadow do this in canon, he seems to awkwardly/quietly hang around as if he doesn't realize he can just hit the bricks (or he likes being there and has no idea how to express it re: smiling at Big the Cat) ), Or Sonic and Shadow will get caught up in their own lives again and not see each other until Fate Deigns to Allow Them to Cross Paths Once More.

And Sonic misses him.

(This ties in with my Sonic Frontiers is the Saddest Game Ever posting from a while back, too. Sonic is lonely AF and Needs Other People to Talk To or he'll start talking to the walls and robots, and Shadow will almost always either talk back or groan in exasperation, which is as good a reaction as any.)

All this, plus Sonic's opinion flip-flops (shopping with Amy vs shopping with Shadow, opinion on Orbot) could be either (Sonadow Optimist) Sonic is Down Bad and not even conscious of his mirroring Shadow/trying to appeal to Shadow, or (Sonadow/overall Pessimist) Sonic trying to appeal to the Most Popular Character Right Now and getting increasingly desperate as he is rebuffed.

A few of these Twitter Takeovers have had moments of Sonic in particular getting thrown off and not really able to recover. (which makes me question what the writing is like, if there's any at all and these VA's aren't just riffing on an outline. Considering they don't talk over each other constantly, there must be something like a script, but it also does occasionally feel like a bad roleplay (and I've been a bad roleplayer).) It leads to a Something Is Wrong feeling in the "We're doing this for fun" question-answering joke show. Sonic needs therapy. (We all need therapy.)

Meanwhile, Shadow really is pulling out all the grunts, groans, and whines with Sonic that, if scripted, would be egregious as hell to read or write. He doesn't make these noises in the games (or shows, really?) mostly because there's a sort of efficiency necessary to production that cuts out that interpersonal realism and partly because it's annoying? Shadow, you're the annoying one?

Unrelated, everybody latched on to Sonic's "Go off, King" but nobody even noticed Shadow's "Deal With It."(sunglasses drop) How soon we forget the sacred texts and/or the deep magic, I guess? (It's an old meme, but it checks out!)

[lovelyshu]

VIDEOGAME LOVER, WE SHOULD * * * WITH EACH OTHER! — with Felix

001 DESCRIPTION — how gaming nights with felix usually are?

002 TAGS — gn!reader, playing genshin, reader has furina, felix is a neuvillette main

003 COMMENTS — oop, random cute scenario I thought of while talking to my friend😊

004 TAGGING — @jisunggy

It's not any news that Felix loves videogames. He's always talking about those with so much passion!

That's probably an extra on why he loves you so much.

When Felix found out you were also in love with games he thought that he probably made something really good to deserve you.

But when you asked him if he wanted to play genshin with you? He kissed you right there.

And that's how you two always found yourselves in this scenario whenever he got time.

You, sitting between his legs with an iPad, while he sat in front of the computer. Both playing genshin impact.

There was an upcoming character to the game that you really wanted, and that's what you were doing with him right now! Farming primogems.

“Do we really need to explore Fontaine? Those puzzles are absolutely impossible!”

“Of course we have. And they're not impossible, you just lack game knowledge.” - was what Felix said while waiting for you to open a new unlocked chest.

“Ugh, those maps keeps getting more boring and annoying to explore. That's why Inazuma is my favorite.”

He only laughed at your comment, continuing to walk with his Neuvilette around the world.

“Felix, Felix, Felix come here, let's take a screenshot!”

He never understood why did you enjoyed taking so many pictures in this game, but it grew on him too.

“Alright, alright. You're using Furina to match my Neuvillette?”

“Yep! Here, just stand and don't move.”

He looked over your shoulder to see you positioning the camera angle in the best way possible, before screenshotting it.

As you looked back at Felix, he smiled, placing a soft peck on your lips.

“I love you so much, have I said that?”

“I think you did. But I love you too.”

[rohirric-hunter]

Okay so this sent me down a several days long research rabbit hole that was actually really fascinating, but the TL;DR is that yes, Subway's bread is legally considered a confection in Ireland for tax purposes.

The statement in and of itself suggests that this was some kind of health concern, but actually nothing could be further from the truth. In Ireland, bread is a tax-exempt staple food. (As opposed to the US, where almost all food is tax-exempt.) However, the legal definition of bread for this law is a baked good where sugar, fat, and improver combined cannot exceed 2% of the weight of the flour. Subway's bread was found to have some combination of sugar, fat, and imrpover that equals almost 10%.

Thing is, the whole wheat sandwich bread in my kitchen is a little over 8% sugar (not counting fat, which I couldn't be assed to do the math for, or or improver, which I can't calculate from the nutrition label). My hot dog buns are 9.5% sugar. Most likely, Subway's bread has a lower sugar+fat percentage than the basic bread I bought from the grocery store.

Now, I don't know if this is a case of bread being very different in Ireland than in the U.S., the bureaucrats who wrote the law not actually knowing how bread is made, or something else. It's my suspicion that the people who wrote the law did not actually want bread to be tax exempt and thus defined "bread" in an incredibly narrow way so that almost nothing would actually qualify for the exemption -- much as certain jurisdictions in the U.S. have extremely stringent lists of what food does and does not qualify for food stamps because the politicians who make the rules surrounding their use don't want to fork up for stuff that's, like, actually nice to eat.

Anyway, this was a fascinating rabbit hole and I think a really good example as to why headlines don't tell the full story, and also the legal classification of something doesn't always reflect reality. After all, in the U.S. honey is considered a type of meat. Legally.

Also for the record this post was in no way an invitation to dispute my description of a Subway sandwich as "reasonably healthy." It has a carbs, a protein, and a vegetable, which should be present in every meal but which is actually pretty difficult to balance, especially with the cost of produce and meat. Obviously there are more healthy options out there, but when you're comparing it to what I can usually afford to eat, which is ramen cups, it's insanely healthy. And I'm definitely not alone in that.

Subway really shot themselves in the foot with all the marketing they pushed for the Five Dollar Footlong way back in the day because it worked so well. The concept of a Five Dollar Footlong is so worked into my psyche even as an adult. I still remember the stupid jingle. So now every time they try to advertise the footlong the only thought in my head is, "Not five dollars, though, is it, Subway?" I saw an ad the other day for a $6.99 footlong and like objectively speaking that's not a bad price for the amount of food in a footlong sandwich, already prepped, reasonably healthy, and ready to go. But it's not five dollars, though, is it? It's less that I can get a sandwich for at any of the other sandwich shops in the area, and a bigger sandwich. But! It's not five dollars, though, is it?

[scorpioriesling]

Invisible String - Part 6

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Eris x reader

Warning(s): Please be advised; this part might not be suitable for all audiences. Proceed with caution.

Summary: You'd taken the nanny position for the royal family over a year ago, not expecting what would come of it or how close you'd grow to the child you cared for. Things became tough for Eris when his wife left him and his daughter, and he found it increasingly harder to raise Riley himself. He soon realizes, you've provided a lot more than the typical job description duties for his daughter... and maybe for him, too.

SR’s Note: My apologies, this took forever for me to finish writing for you all (I've had so much on my plate lately). I hope you’re ready — all we have left is the finale! I added in the advisory so that younger / uncomfortable readers won't read the series without knowing or expecting potential risks in content to come. For those who enjoy or look forward to content as such -- I hope you are excited! Nonetheless, I hope readers will enjoy this series that came to me in a dream one night. (; Much love to all.

Tags: @mellowmusings @talesofadragon @rcarbo1 @mandziaaa @lilah-asteria @a-frog-with-a-laptop @kitsunetori @dannul @velarisdusk @lamarmotta @paintedbyshadows @i-know-i-can @adventure-awaits13 @acourtofbatboydreams (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

"My bow tied?"

You sigh as you adjust the golden ribbon tied in the little girl's hair, her wide eyes looking to you for assurance. Though it's about the fifth time she's asked you to confirm, you answer her once more.

"Yes, dear," you say, smoothing down the front of her corduroy dress with reassurance. "I promise I tied it into your ponytail really good."

She nods, her little body buzzing with anticipation and excitement. You take her hand, leading her toward the front door of the Forest House where her father waits.

"Ready for your first day?" He asks, smiling prodly at his daughter though you can practically feel the way his heart hurts inside.

"I am, daddy!" She bounds over to him, clutching the strap of her pink backpack with a fluffy bunny printed on the front. When Eris arrived home with it last week, she could've practically exploded from sheer excitement.

He helps her slip it over her little shoulders, bending down and kissing the top of her head as he gazes at her. Your heart swells -- you knew, this wasn't just a big day for Riley, but for him too.

"We should walk outside -- the carriage service will be here soon, you won't want to miss it." He winks, and Riley giggles as she jumps up and down.

"Daddy -- Y/N coming too?" She asks as he takes her hand in his. He glances to you, and your eyes widen.

"Oh, no, honey, I think your father should bring you to your first day of school," you explain hastily. She huffs, trotting over to you and wrapping her small fingers around your palm.

"Pleeeeeeease, you come too?" She asks. Eris only shrugs, and you glance down into those big, pleading eyes once more.

"Alright, then," you hesitate, and she continues her celebration as though this was her birthday. Eris glances out the window, turning to face the two of you again before speaking.

"The carriage is just down the way; ready to go, Riles?" She nods, looking back to make sure you're following.

"I'll be just behind you," you say, jogging to the kitchen as they make their way through the front door. Spotting the mason jar in the middle of the table, you reach for it, and then hurry to catch up with the two out front.

:* ✧･ﾟ:

The rest of the day goes on per usual, though the house is errily quiet with Riley's absence.

Eris left for the Palace soon after Riley got on the carriage, which left you in the Forrest House... alone. All day.

You were cleaning for what felt like the 25th hour of the day when the clock struck 3 pm, and you quickly hurried outside. She would be home any minute, and you were dying to know how her first day of public school went.

Sure enough, the gleaming ivory of the carriage made it's debut over the hill; stopping just at the end of the drive. The doors were barely open before Riley burst out, running as fast as she could to you up the drive.

"Chris-anthem!"

You kneeled, stretching your arms wide as she lept into them full-force. She held onto you tightly, the only adieu to the carriage coach a small wave before he set off once more. When she finally let go, you asked her.

"How was your first-"

"A Chris-anthem!" She squealed again, this time thrusting her clenched fist toward you to look. In her palm, she held the stem of a rather wilty, dying orange bloom.

"Ohhh, your flower," you realized. "You asked what it was, hm?" She nodded happily.

"Yes! And Miss Peachum says its a Chris-anthem!" You chuckle, realizing the plant is indeed a Chrysanthemum.

"Ahh, I see," You say, half-distracted by the approaching male on horseback trotting toward the stables. His hair is radiant in the light of the setting sun, his shoulders set as he comes more into view.

"We should go inside -- I think your daddy is almost home, and I'm sure he'd love to hear about your first day at school."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

The routine becomes a little more established over the next couple of weeks as all of you adapt to the new schedule. On days Eris goes in later, he gets up with his daughter and gets her onto the carriage; on his early days, you do it. It's a nice routine, one that is almost perfect.

Almost.

You still longed for the feeling of his sheets, his warm embrace as he'd hold you through the night. How good it felt, even for just a short time, to feel so comfortable, as though your longing had been satiated -- now, it felt like those days were as good as gone.

"Oh, Y/N?" His voice was quiet in the silent hall of the house, Riley put into bed after another long day. You were jsut about to retire to your chambers when he spoke, his steps quick to catch you before you went to bed.

"Hm?" You turned, facing him in the dim evening light. He stepped close enough so you oculd make out his features, every freckle on his nose and the exact curve of his jaw -- but not too close to touch.

"I, uh, I just had something I wanted to ask you about," he fumbles, and you lean against the doorway as his eyes finally find yours.

"Anything," you say reassuringly, hating how uncharacteristically nervous he's being. He swallows, his lips parting in thought before he speaks again.

"The uh, the annual court ball is happening in three days," he says, his brows knitting. "And, uhm." He coughs to clear his throat, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Yessss?"

"Well, it's in the evening, um. I have to go, I mean. I have to attend." He says, biting the inside of his cheek. You nod in realization, your heart sinking just a bit.

"Right, right, I figured as much. I, uh. I don't have any plans, I mean, I'll be here, for Riley that night-"

He frowns, taking a step closer and looking straight down into your eyes.

"No," he says sharply, his features relaxing when your eyes widen. "I, um. She has, someone else to watch her that evening." He nods once, and you look up at him quizzically.

"Okay...?"

"Would you join me?" The words come out so fast you almost don't register them. "I mean, to the ball. Would you..." his fingers lightly take yours, his thumb tracing a small circle on the back of your hand.

"You. Want me. To go with you?"

He chuckles, his hand holding yours with ease. If only he knew the tidal wave rushing through your veins at this very moment-

"I do," he assures, bringing the back of your hand to his mouth to press a small kiss to it. "I'd be honored, if you would join me."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Three days was not near long enough to get yourself in check.

By that, you were feeling so nervous -- no matter how many times you'd redone your makeup, or re-tied the laces on your gown -- you still stared at yourself in the mirror, barely believing the events that were to unfold tonight.

A soft knock on your door pulls you from your daze, the wood creaking as it slowly opens.

"Oh... wow," Eris sucks in a breath, coming to stand behind you as he gazes at you through the mirror. You continue to pick and fiddle with your gown, only halting when his hands rest on your waist.

"Y/N, you're beautiful," he muses, and you can't help but blush. Gazing at him through the reflection, you agree -- you were beautiful, the maroon fabric hugged you nicely and complimented the accents of his jacket to a tee.

"Thank you," you whisper, and he turns you to face him. A small smile creeps onto his lips as he takes you in before him. You can't help but grin back, as the man oogling you is quite handsome himself.

"Are you ready?" He asks, and you take a deep breath, glancing at yourself once more over your shoulder.

"I am," you hesitate. "I just... I hope your parents won't think less of you for bringing me tonight."

Eris huffs a laugh, his eyes meeting yours in the glass.

"Darling, I don't give a damn what my parents think. Especially my father."

You chew on your lip, his words not resonating with you like he hoped they would.

"I just... I'm not like you, I'm not... a High Fae," you sigh. "I'm nothing like Selene-"

"Good." His fingers prod at your chin, turning your head to face him directly once more.

"I'm glad you're nothing like her, Y/N." Your heart melts, his words finally hitting home.

"You're everything and more, love," you swear his lips are inching toward yours with every word he speaks.

"She could only wish to be half the woman you are."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Living in the Autumn Court your entire life, you could've never imagined the royal balls were anything like this. Not even close.

Your gaze shifted from person to person, taking in everything from their elaborate attire to their pointed ears. Weaving through the crowd of people and lingering stares, the insecurity from earlier resurfaced as you glanced down at your rather plain dress.

"Eris," you hissed. He turned, leaning in close to speak with you. "Why didn't you tell me to get something more..." You struggled to find the word. "Ball-appropriate?"

His grin sent a shiver down your spine before his warm breath against your ear could.

"I think you look absolutely divine, Y/N."

Your cheeks heat again as he reaches for your hand, giving it a small squeeze before opening his mouth again.

"I need to make an appearance at the dais," he explains. "Will you be alright-"

"Yes. I'll wait here." You nod, not exactly as confident as you'd hoped in meeting his parents so soon. He kisses your cheek quickly, the brush of his lips a momentary relief against your flushed face before he makes way for the dais. His father tracks his movements, every step watched by those beady eyes.

You'd known the High Lord was, well... cruel, to put it plainly. He was unfair, and demanding, and took advantage of the power he held -- which is exactly why your stomach begins to turn as his focus lands right. On. You.

"Thank you all, for coming tonight." He bellows, standing to speak to the crowd in the throne room. Every head turns to face him, every eye focused on him as he scans the room. Eris stands confidently next to his father, with the Lady of Autumn politely standing on his other side.

He continues his short announcement, the music resuming as he finishes and demands it be so. As people begin moving and partnering off, your worry returns. Where was Eris? No longer beside his father, you look around you, not spotting that firey red head of hair anywhere among the crowd.

That is, until two large hands snake around your waist from behind, his familiar chuckle causing your breath to hitch.

"Share a dance with me?"

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Your hands tremble as Eris slowly guides you to the middle of the room, all the faelights dimming on the walls. People sidestep around you, moving out of your way as though Eris is parting the sea itself.

The soft melody from the string quartet begins, a song you'd surely heard before. None of it calmed your nerves, especially as you peered toward the dais. Sure enough; both of his parents were watching the two of you.

"Hey, don't get nervous on me now." Eris offers a small smile, and you gulp down your nerves. He places your left hand on his shoulder, taking the other one in his own. His free hand snakes around your waist, splaying flat on your back as he draws you closer to him.

"Just, follow me." He steps to the side, beginning to move in time with the song. You follow, trying to calm the shakiness of your hand in his while he presses you against him.

A few counts in, you relax a little. Sure, you weren't High Fae, or maybe someone his father would choose for him -- but Eris chose you. You're the one here with him tonight, dancing in front of his family and his court as though you came as a package deal.

When you look up at him, you blush realizing he had already been focused on you. He chuckles, his fingers tracing up and down on the small of your back as he twirls the two of you around the dancing floor.

"I'm really glad you came tonight," he says lowly, his amber-flecked gaze intense as you can't help but stare back.

"Me too," you say. "I've never attended anything like this before."

He raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face.

"Well, you're quite the talented dancer for never being brought to a ball before," he releases your waist, spinning you in a slow circle and then pulling you back to him once more. You grin, a small laugh escaping your lips as the two of you are held close once more.

"I shouldn't be surprised, as you've grown up going to these things," you say, your gaze landing on his lips. "But, you're quite impressive as well."

Those lips tilt upward as the song comes to an end, the two of you simply gazing at the other. You don't notice the clearing made for the two of you, how every other fae had allowed the two of you into the spotlight of the room. You'd simply been too caught up in the moment with the handsome man before you-

Eris sighs, and you watch as his gaze zeroes in on the dais once more. Turning, you peek as well -- the High Lord is beckoning his son at once.

"I can wait for you-"

"He wants us both." Eris shakes his head, the muscles in his arms tightening as he slowly lets go of you.

"Oh," is all you can think to say. He takes your hand, once again making way to his father's throne. This time, he leads you with him.

"Father." Is all he says when the two of you approach, and you watch as the High Lord so much as flicks his gaze to you before offerring his son an unamused look. Eris bends at the waist, and you follow suit, curtsying low as you offer your respect.

"Eris," his father echoes, his hands folding across his chest. "How uncourtly of you to not introduce your mother and I to your... guest, this evening." You look to the Lady of Autumn, offering a small bow of your head. She smiles at you softly -- the most reaction you'd seen from her all night.

"My apologies." Eris says, and you can practically hear the sarcastic remarks he was making in his mind. He turns to you, a smile sppearing on his face when you meet his gaze.

"This is Y/N, you've heard me mention her before," he explains. "She is the woman who helps so much with... with Riley," he hesitates. You'd known his parents were not involved much in his personal life, mainly because of his father and how he has treated his own son. You couldn't say you blamed him.

"Y/N," Beron repeats, his beady gaze focusing on you. He reaches to take your hand in his, kissing the back of it in polite greeting. You force a smile, but can feel Eris' jaw tightening from where he stood beside you. "How nice to finally meet you."

His words are dripping with venom, but you respond with class nonetheless. "Likewise, High Lord."

He releases your hand, resting his own on the armrests of his throne. He looks to Eris again, his gaze wavering between the two of you.

"So nice to see my son bring a woman to one of these kinds of events again -- he'd been alone in attendance, of course, since he let that Day Court whore slip through his fingers." Your eyes widen at his careless use of the derogatory language, but he simply chuckles. Eris' fingers find yours, sliding through them and squeezing gently. His father doesn't miss the action, and is quite unpleased by it.

"Even if it means bringing the help with him." He sneers a horrible smile, and you feel your face flush at the comment. Your throat tightens, making swallowing painful as you try and surpress the forming emotions threatening to spill out.

"Father, please-"

"Now now, son. It's been a few years since Selene fled, whether it be your --" he pauses in throught. "...annoying, nature, or maybe she simply didn't enjoy your company." Eris sucks in a breath, releasing it slowly as though he's practiced this a million times.

Nonetheless, Beron continues. "Reguardless, I think it's time you remarry -- don't you?" Your eyes widen, your gaze dropping to the floor. Remarry? Surely Eris wouldn't agree to that.

"Father, I'm perfectly happy with-"

"With, what? Being alone? Leaving that poor child without a mother?" His father tutts, his hands flexing against the golden armrests.

"Could we talk about this, later?" Eris grits out. Your heart sinks as you feel both of his parent's eyes on you. Looking to the Lady of Autumn, she only offers you a sorrow-filled expression.

"We shall do just that." Beron promises. "Now, go. Enjoy the rest of the ball." He grins wickedly as though he didn't just insult everyone standing before him.

Eris turns, guiding you down the stairs of the dais when you hear Beron's voice from behind you.

"Lovely to meet you, Y/N!"

You only manage a small nod as your foot steps onto the floor. Then, you take off in a beeline for the exit.

:* ✧･ﾟ:

Your chest is heaving as you shove through the heavy entry doors to the palace, the cool night air chilly against your heated skin. You brace against one of the marbled columns in the entryway, a few hot tears finally breaking free and falling down your cheeks. In seconds, the doors open again, a familiar voice ringing out behind you.

"Y/N, please don't take what he said to heart-"

"Don't," you growl, your shoulders shaking as your emotions continue to rattle through you. The soft footsteps of his boots sound behind you, his quiet approach made known as his hand rests against your back.

"Love, I promise he's always like this-"

"Like what? Horrible?" Your eyes narrow as you turn to face him, his saddened expression evident when he sees the wet streams down your face. He reaches out, brushing a stray tear away.

"Pretty much," he mumbles, his other hand rubbing soothingly against your back. You continue to sob, soft sounds coming from you as Eris pulls you close to his chest.

In minutes, you feel his hands pushing you lightly against a cushiony surface. You follow his lead, sitting as you rub the water from your eyes. The familiar feeling of silk touches your fingers, and Eris moves for just a moment before the room is filled with heat.

His bedroom. He'd winnowed the two of you out of there, and right into his room.

"Eris-" You stutter, avoiding his gaze shamefully as he moves to sit beside you on the bed. "Y-you have to get back, your parents-"

"My parents can fuck off for now." He says, his hands reaching for you and pulling you close to him. He guides you to lie next to him, your head resting against his chest while his fingers stroke through your hair.

It's silent for a while, the only sounds from the fire crackling in the hearth and a few occasional sniffles as you work to regain your composure. When anyone finally speaks, it's him.

"I'm not going to remarry." He says, another few silent beats following his admission. Your heart breaks further, any hope of what you'd had before with the male shattering. He hugs you closer to him, his hands bracing around your smaller frame.

"I mean, I'm not remarrying just because of my father." He clarifies. You wipe your eyes with the back o your hand, pushing up on a elbow to look directly into his eyes.

"Eris... it doesn't seem like much of a choice-"

"It is," he cuts in. "It is my choice. I'm so sick of my father choosing what I do, and when, and who with. I won't allow it any longer." He frowns, pulling you down to lay with him again. Your fingers begin to play with one of the seams on his jacket, as your mind clears.

"Is that... what I was? Tonight?" You ask weakly. "Just, a way of defiance, to your father?" Eris sighs, tilting your chin to look up into his eyes. Though your face is red and puffy, he offers you a small smile.

"Never, my dear -- I had the choice in bringing someone with me this evening. And, I chose you. I wanted you there with me." You feel a spark of hope in your chest, amidst everything else you'd been feeling. He's quiet, waiting as you collect your thoughts.

Another single tear slips free, trailing down your cheek as you inch closer to him. He pulls you in, his mouth mere inches from yours as your voice comes out in a whisper.

"I choose you, too, Eris."

:* ✧･ﾟ:

[saiintvalentiine]

hello............ loyalty duo werewolf au..................... im gonna start posting bits and bobs here and there of things ive written that dont really have anywhere else to go. no promises on if this will be continued, but i. i do love me some werewolves........................ divider

Warnings for vague descriptions of injuries and implied torture. The writing and editing is kinda rough, sorry for any major errors :')

Wordcount: 1,087

“Werewolves don't exist,” is what the voice says. “What the fuck, werewolves do not exist!”

The muzzle hurts. It's too tight for his face. But he doesn't move from where he's laid, a bloodied heap slowly healing from his wounds. Every full moon he's dragged into this bedrock room after his fights, and every full moon he tries to escape while adrenaline is still flowing through him, and every full moon he suffers the consequences of thinking they can’t possibly stop him this time. He's too tired to fight this new voice, their scent uniquely cat-like and hovering above him. His eyes are too swollen. He's cried quite a bit. It's hard to stop when he's like this.

“Shit, I guess werewolves exist. Fuck. This isn't what I thought was gonna happen when they said there was dog fighting.”

The voice hovers closer, and he tries to shy away. Something is— broken, probably, in his leg, and his claws are cut through the quick, but he tries anyway to press against the wall.

“Hey, hey hey hey, no, I'm not gonna hurt you,” the voice pitches down, softens, and the part of his mind that can't bear another moment of cruelty forces a whimper out of his mouth. “Oh that's— I'm not gonna hurt you, I'm here to get you out, yeah? We're gonna leave. We're gonna leave riiiiight now, right now, I scared everyone else out, it's just you and me now.”

He's not sure he believes the voice, but beyond the walls, there is a terrifying, blessed silence. Whatever this voice did to everyone else, it could probably do to him. He's in no shape to fight it off.

“Hey,” the voice is even quieter now. “It said outside the door that your name is Wifies. Is that you? Wifies?”

He recognizes the name as the one they call him when he's not like this. He can't make any meaningful noise with his muzzle on, but he tries for. . . a purr, something in his chest that isn't a growl.

“Okay. Wifies. Okay Wifies, I'm Ken. You look too big for me to carry, so we need to work together to get you out of here, yeah?” there's some rustling, and Ken curses. He can't help the way he curls up further. “I brought all my escape kits but not a single healing pot. I'm an idiot.”

Getting up from his curled up spot sounds impossible, but his nails are already growing back in as jagged spikes, so he knows he can do it. He struggles to get his arms beneath him, hoisting himself up after a few false starts. Using his good leg, he twists around to sit and lean against the wall. That little bit of effort has him panting, or panting as much as he can within the metal restraints of his muzzle. He peels his eyes open, ignoring the sting.

“Hoooooooly shit,” Ken mutters, staring up at him. He's a head taller than Ken like this. “I definitely can't carry you, my God.”

Ken is dressed in all black, a brown strap across his chest and a bag hanging off his back. He's a cat hybrid, which explains the smell. His ears and eyes and whip-thin tail are split between a candied green and a golden orange. As soon as his blood stops rushing through his ears, he can hear Ken's heart beating, fast and skipping.

He can't make himself any smaller if he's meant to walk. He lowers his head and puts his ears back.

“Nooo, no no no, it's— you make yourself very small very well. Um, okay, let's— how am I gonna get you out of here?”

His bad leg still hurts, but if he can leave. . . He digs his palms into the bedrock behind him and pushes himself to stand. His weight, as paltry as it is for a wolf his size, causes his bad knee to buckle. Ken yelps. He withstands the shaking, burning pain of it to stand up properly.

“They don't chain you up anywhere?” Ken asks, eyes darting around the room. “I've got a netherite axe. I could definitely split any chain.”

Chains were no good. Once his nails grow back, they're easy to shred. He stares down at Ken.

“Jeez, you're huge, good fucking grief.”

He lumbers forwards towards Ken, and the darkened double doors of his cell. Ken takes a step back, then another, then turns around to push the doors open to their absolute maximum. He hunches over to squeeze through.

The hallway is just as dark as the cell, uninterrupted bedrock as far as he can see.

“It's a bit of a labyrinth. Just follow me.”

Ken hesitates for a moment before weaving his way through the halls. He follows, a loud, thudding, limping pace that should have alerted every single creature around to his presence. But it's just Ken’s feather-light footfalls and him. Whatever Ken did to clear the place out was absurdly successful. 

As they turn another indistinct corner, he sees— moonlight. It pools onto the floors, sweet and cool and calling to him. There's a hole blown through the bedrock, the sparkling smell of redstone surrounding it, and he scrabbles around Ken to squeeze through it. Tumbling onto soft, dewey grass (grass, real grass, when had he ever felt such a thing?) he loses all strength and lays on his back, staring up at the full moon.

She's so huge. He's never seen Her before, had just known when She was full or new in his core. But here She is. She is huge and beautiful and he feels, for the first time ever, at peace.

Ken hops out of the hole and steps closer, crouching next to him.

“Hey buddy,” Ken says. “Do you think I can take the muzzle off?”

He shakes his head, then growls for good measure— a soft growl, low and short to not intimidate Ken too much. He can't explain that the muzzle was put on when he was smaller, that it can’t be removed when he’s like this. Or, it can, but it’ll hurt so much he might cry again. Better to let Ken believe that it’s impossible, just in case.

“That's a no. Okay. Well, we should probably leave soon before anyone realizes anything,” Ken looks up at the sky before swinging back and sitting down in the grass, sighing. “But I don't think sitting here for a little longer can hurt.”

Wifies purrs and basks in the moonlight.

[amber-tortoiseshell]

(Unrelated to the white marking tournament lol)

I found this cool lookin' cat on reddit when he was posted in the tortie sub, but his markings are way too symmetrical to be a tortie imo. He looks more like a very densely striped black tabby!

He actually really reminds me of the cats that have been called psuedomelanistic on Messybeast, so maybe it's some kind of abundism/charcoal pattern? What are your thoughts?

said cats on Messybeast:

Yeah, this is definitely not a tortie and imo totally the same thing as those messybeast cats. Good catch! They all have the gray crescent triangles above the eyes, rings around their neck and striped legs. This is systematic.

My personal opinion is that it's probably not directly related to charcoal (as in, it has not much to do with the leopard cat), at most it's an unrelated ASIP mutation. Both are a kind of pseudomelanism/abundism (if we as use these words in a strictly descriptive, "blacker than usual but not entirely black animal" meaning, and to my understanding that's the common use), but that doesn't really explains the genetics.

I think this is a very interesting phenomenon, and i hope someone tests a cat like these for at least agouti/asip and mackerel-blotched/taqpep

[novlr]

I’m just starting out with writing, and I really want my characters to feel different from each other. How do I make sure they have their own unique voices so my readers can tell them apart?

Experiment with character dialect

Dialect refers to the language people use when they speak: their accent, their slang, their regional or generational vernacular. When we think of “dialect”, we often think of things like “y’all” or “yer man” or “innit” — clichéd indications of place. You can definitely use these in your story, but also challenge yourself to go deeper.

Dialect can be a result of generational trends — you’ll notice that today’s teenagers don’t talk the same way their parents or grandparents do! Words fade in and out of fashion all the time. They can also be tied to a particular industry or subculture. When developing each character’s unique voice, consider what kind of slang or specialised language they might incorporate into the way they speak. 

Vary your characters’ syntax

Syntax has to do with the way we structure our sentences. Some characters will use only short, compact sentences, while others will ramble for miles. Some will always use grammatically correct language, while others will speak in fragments. 

A useful exercise is to write a conversation between two characters who use very different syntax in the way they talk. You can take their different approaches to the comical extreme until you get a sense of their different voices, and then dial it back and incorporate their individual syntaxes with more subtlety.  

Consider your characters’ word choices

There are very few true synonyms in the English language; each word has its own distinct connotation and tone. For example, one character might describe themselves as loquacious, while another describes them as a motormouth. Or, they might describe an authority figure as derisive, while the other character says they’re mean. 

The words a character lands on in any given situation can communicate a lot about how they see the world and themselves. 

Put your characters in moments of conflict

Conflict, tension, and suspense reveal who your characters really are. One character might become loud and aggressive, while another shuts down and speaks only in quiet monosyllables. Sometimes, a character’s voice contrasts the words they’re saying (you can communicate this through dialogue and action tags); for example, if a character says, “I’m not afraid!” in a strained, rattling voice, that belies their fear. 

As an exercise, try writing an argument between two of your characters and explore how the tension changes the way they speak. Then, you can incorporate this into your story.

Don’t neglect body language

On that note, a big part of a character’s distinct voice is the way they behave when they talk. You can convey this through action tags (“She hugged herself tight as she spoke”) or through descriptions surrounding the dialogue. 

Look at how your character holds themself — do they sprawl, taking command of the space, or do they try to make themself disappear? Do they only half-listen to the person talking to them, or do they make them feel like they’re the centre of the world? The way you communicate body language to the reader will inform the way they hear that character’s voice.

Read your work out loud

When you’ve finished the first draft of a story, it’s always a good idea to read your work out loud. This helps you catch any misused words, typos (the age of autocorrect is notorious for this), or inauthentic speech. You don’t have to let anyone hear you while you do this — it’s simply a tool for you as the writer to get a better sense of how your words come across on the page.

When you read, listen to each character’s dialogue and check to make sure it sounds true to that particular character. If you can’t tell the character voices apart, you may need to create a little more distinction through your revision process, using the tools we looked at above. 

Listen to character voices in the wild

A great way to develop your ear for character voices and get inspired along the way is to listen to the way real people talk. Go to a public park, a café, or a marketplace and stealthily absorb the language people use to express themselves. See if you can get a sense of what they’re thinking and feeling underneath their words. Then, you can incorporate elements of these experiences into your characters. 

Remember — human beings are unfathomably complex. Each is the epicentre of their own little universe, with all its dangers and joys. To create characters that readers will follow to the end, ensure that each one has a voice that’s unique and alive. 

[creatingblackcharacters]

Hi! Your blog is really really cool and an awesome source of information with so much context and detail! I really love your approach of like "don't not do it; research, learn, and do it well"!

So Idk if this is a reasonable question or not but I thought it would be better to ask than not to: So I'm endeavoring to write a kids picture book and in it there's a little girl who's Black with a physical disability, probably moderately quadriplegic, and I was wondering about what kind of hairstyles might be realistic for her to potentially have?

Like I know she could technically have anything that a real person could have, but like I don't want to just pick something out for the character just based on how *I* think somethings looks without having a context I don't have yet if that makes sense?

She's about 5 or 6 and she's able to use her hands but she'll have spasticity in them and be using adaptive equipment, and she can move but she'll be in a wheelchair most of the time, so Idk how that might factor into how she/her parents might kind of style her hair?

(it won't really come up in the story since it's about her first day of school, but like more from a design standpoint)

Also idk if this matters to add but I wouldn't be personally doing the art, I'd probably try and connect with someone to illustrate, but I would like to try and have some pretty concrete descriptions for them to work with when the time comes.

Thanks so much, you're so awesome!!!!

That's a good way to summarize my mentality, and I appreciate you catching that! I do get frustrated when people approach writing people different than them as "well is it yes or no" when that's not what it is. It's "put effort into it or leave it alone". Because many things can be done! We can be in any story! It just has to be done with...wait for it... INTENT!

As for your question, she's an industrious child because I was not doing my own hair at 5 and 6 lol. That's a young age for hair. Maybe a ponytail or afro puff at best. I think it would be okay if you allowed her parents to do her hair, which does lead back to her being able to have any style that she might like. Maybe something with less barrettes and such, since they might fall out and she may struggle to put them back in.

So my suggestion would be to look up hairstyles little Black girls, and go through your options and pick one!

[starboykel]

an artist and his muse ⭑⚝²

pt1

artist! König x chubby!F!reader

!!content warnings: König is younger than canon, pistol mentioning, idk this is just fluff. Chubby reader. Extensive description of how to make a condensed milk cake. Maybe a bit out of character.

3,7k words — English isn't my first language, i apologize for any mistakes.

Since that day, you and König have been talking practically every day through the cellphone, König would often talk about his day and his new projects, sending you photos of the new paintings he was working on and recently, he started a new hobby: learn digital art. He would send you screenshots of his drawings, they were... Certainly something, it wasn't as great because he was used to work on a canvas with paint and such but, he was trying at least.

If he disappeared for 3-4 hours, you were sure he was just working on whatever his mind was thinking of, painting, digital art or even ceramic, yeah, he also started ceramic. He was trying to occupy his mind with something and it was obvious... You just didn't know he was trying to occupy his brain because you were everything in his mind.

König was having trouble painting because he couldn't focus on anything but you, his happiness was texting you everyday and looking at the selfies you send him anytime you were doing something mildly interesting, watching a movie, cooking, baking, oh god, baking, he could kill someone to taste those brownies you baked practically every weekend. He really wanted to ask you out on a date but he didn't have the guts to, you were such a pretty girl, who was he to think he had a chance with such a beautiful girl?

On your side... Well, it was the same. You were too shy to ask him out on a date, he was such a busy guy, he was painting and when he wasn't painting he was training his digital art and when he wasn't training he was doing ceramic, you didn't want to bother him. Your heart skips a beat every time he sends a photo of what he was working on, his face wasn't even on the photos but you were so in love it didn't even take too much to make you kick your feet and smile like a fool...

"Who are you talking to?" Suddenly, your father kicked you out of your thoughts, he was frowning and trying to peek on your phone as you were eating. You were already an adult but old habits never die to your father.

"M...my friend, his name is König." You reply, showing him the conversation, Anton takes a look and nods. "Your boyfriend?" He asks, you blushes slightly and shakes your head, "N-no, he's just a friend." You stutter. He gives you a look like 'yeah, sure' and then goes back to the living room, leaving you in the kitchen to finish your lunch.

You didn't have anything to do that day. You wanted to go out with your friends but they were all busy, you didn't have a photoshoot today, no modeling or something, so you would just enjoy the day, just being lazy... So you decided to bake a cake! Why not?

You looked for a recipe on the internet and found one you found interesting, 'Condensed Milk Cake'... Hmm, sounds good! And you have all the ingredients, luckily.

You grab the apron that was probably too old for its own good and protect your hair and start making the cake, it was therapeutic. In a large bowl, you pour the condensed milk, whisk in butter and the vanilla extract, over the bowl, sift four and the baking powder over the condenser milk mixture. After that, you grab the rice cooker, grease the interior with butter and pour in the batter, spreading it evenly in the rice cooker, you decide to top with some chocolate chips, put the cover on and cook for 20 minutes. After waiting, you pick a toothpick and poke the cake, it comes out clean so it means it is ready! You place a plate on top of the rice cooker pot and carefully invert. The scent of vanilla and condensed milk infested the kitchen. It was so good, you were proud of yourself, it looked delicious!

Your father walks in the kitchen, "What are you doing?" He asks, frowning slightly before he sees the cake, "Oooh, it looks good. Gimme a slice." He picks a knife and goes to cut the cake but oh no, your father didn't have the reputation of being the best cake cutter.

"Waaaaait!" You shouts, trying to stop him but your father was a man on a mission. He cuts a huge part out of the cake and walks away, you can practically see the evil smile on his face as he goes to his room, leaving you with less than a half of the cake... Goddamnit.

You sigh and decide to take a photo of the... Half cake you have, you grab your phone and try to get the best angle of it but yeah, a cake cut in half wasn't the most aesthetically pleasing thing ever.

Eating a slice of the cake while watching something was a pleasing experience at least, watching some old humoristic sitcom your father had on DVD since the 90s that he refused to get rid of was nice at best. You hear a notification coming from your phone and check it... It was König!

'Hallo, are you free tonight? I would be pleased to have dinner with you.'

You found it amusing how he always wrote it grammatically correctly, you could've never, sometimes you just forget how to write some words.

'Yeah, I'm free! Where do u wanna meet?'

'Meet me at the park, I am going to take you to the restaurant from there, at 7pm. Don't be late.'

You smile, he was always so assertive and direct sometimes, it was nice though, at least he wasn't confused about what he wanted and treated you well.

You start getting ready at 5pm, showering, doing your makeup, choosing the best clothing, fixing your hair, airdrying it and, oh god it's already 6:56pm! You run out of the house, forgetting to bring your lip oil.

You go to the park and look around for König, it was 7:04pm. You feel a cold hand on your shoulder, looking over your shoulder...

"Oh, hi Kö! How are you?" It was König! He didn't seem mad at you, good. He smiles and gives you a little pat on the head.

"I'm fine. Let's go to my car." Simple as ever. He takes your hand and leads you to the car, opening the car door for you. You two make small talk in the car on the way to the restaurant. He was wearing some nice clothes, a white button shirt that was rolled up to his elbow, black tailored pants with a belt and black shoes. It was minimalistic and he looked good on it. You could see some scars on his arms, that was interesting, maybe he wasn't always an artist.

The restaurant was nice, had a warm atmosphere and some relaxing jazz music playing. You order some alfredo pasta and chicken with some orange juice, he orders steak with onion, rice, salad, some rustic potatoes and... You lost track of the list after that, he was a bottomless pit. Oh, he ordered some apple juice for himself too.

"So, what do you like to do in your free time? When you're not doing paintings and such." You were the one to start the conversation, noticing that Konig was more of the quiet type and that, depending on him, the date would be mostly silence and eating.

"I enjoy... Uh... I enjoy television shows, I watch it when I'm... I'm not doing art..." He stuttered, not looking at you directly, you noticed that he was very nervous, his hands shaking, it was very different from the man you met before. Maybe you were starting to get under his shell.

Your soft smiles didn't help much. His mind was going a mile a second, his hand shaking and his body couldn't relax, he felt like everyone was staring at him, why wouldn't they? He's on a date with a cute girl while he looks like this giant freak, you probably don't even like him, you're just with him because you pity him youcangetsometingbetterthanhimyou—

"König?" Your soft voice slaps him out of his trance, his eyes focusing on your worried expression, "Are you okay? You seem... I don't know—" "I'm fine." He cuts you off, his hands still fidgeting underneath the table.

You were a bit confused and even a little shocked. He was so serious, confident before and now he's shaking like a wet cat. Well, he's trying to hide it but it's obvious, someone his size can't hide. You decide it's best to let him relax, stay silent for a while, let him recompose.

Well... His brain was going miles an hour, waiting for YOU to say something, to talk about something YOU like, maybe you could even forget he's there and just ramble away his anxiety... But that doesn't happen. He's waiting for you to talk and you're waiting for him to speak. Both so awkward, his anxious behavior getting into you, where you are scaring him? Why? What have you done? Did you do something that made him uncomfortable? Doeshenotlikeyouanymore-

Then, the waiter arrives after what felt not even a second, you swear you had just ordered not even 10 minutes ago. The waiter places your order in front of him and two of König's extensive list of food, the potatoes and the beef. The orange juice being placed in the middle for the both of you.

He awkwardly starts cutting his beef, the cutlery was so small in his hands that it made a task as simple as cutting a steak difficult. You eat your pasta, staring at nowhere as your mind is non stop thinking that you did something wrong. You both reached for the orange juice glass, his fingers touching yours before he flinched his hand away, just reassuring that he was scared of you on your worried brain.

The rest of the date was... Not cozy, just two looked like two pathetic wet cats that didn't know where their mama went and was scared of the world. He pays for everything, even if you insisted that you had money. You two step out of the restaurant, some significant distance from each other, and just... Staying there, waiting for the one another to say something.

"Look-" "I'm sorry-" You two speak up at the same time, eyes meeting in an anxious atmosphere, silence remains for a few seconds. "Hear-" "I apologize-" Interrupting one another again, the atmosphere getting tenser and tenser, you both take a deep breath, taking a step closer to each other. He let you talk first.

"I'm sorry, I'm not aware of what I did but I apologize for making you uncomfortable." You speak up, playing with the hem of your clothes as you try to sound not nervous.

He frowns slightly before sighing and nodding, "I'm the problem. You're not the problem, I've always been this... Social awkward, since I was a teenager. It's not your fault." He reassures, taking a step closer... Closer... Closer until he's right in front of you. He looks at you... "It's going to snow, you should go home." Before he lifts your chin and gives you a forehead kiss...

Then he turns around and walks away, you don't know that but he's panicking inside, his hands shaking and his heart beating like a drum, his face red as a tomato... That man saw you naked and is flustered because he gave you a forehead kiss! Men...

Well, you were blushing too, your mouth opened slightly in shock... The snow starts to fall, the cold feeling makes you feel even hotter inside, it has just started. You didn't know what to do so you do the same as him, you turn around and walk home... No, you can't do that. You stop in your tracks, turn back and start running towards him.

"König!" You shouts, making him stop and turn to see you. You don't know what you're doing and why but you feel like you need to do this. You reach him, panting, you weren't used to exercising. "I'm- I'm-" "You don't need to be sorry, it's okay." He cuts you off.

"No, that's not it, I-i... I-" You look up at him and you just... Can't finish your phrase, he's so handsome your heart beats and your brain stops.

He smiles softly and ruffles your already messy hair, "You shouldn't stay outside, you're gonna catch a cold... Wanna go to my place?" He speaks up, and honestly, he's being too damn bold, his heart feels like it's gonna explode out of his chest, he's trying to keep this cool guy persona but... That's not him.

You definitely didn't want to freeze outside so... "Y-yeah, sure." You nod. He takes your hand and starts walking to his car. This all feels too... Unbelievable... Damn, you're going to a guy's house after the first date? What are you? You silently judge yourself but König isn't like other guys... You hope.

The car ride back to his place was silent, some random song in German playing on the radio. His car was fine, definitely not the best or the most expensive but also not the cheapest, it was a nice car that had the necessary to live. When arriving at his place, the snow was already filling the streets with its soft whiteness, he opens the door and gets inside after you. The place was... Nice? It was a bit messy but it was comfortable.

"Make yourself at home. The TV has a little sound problem but nothing that will bother you, I'm going to take a shower, there's a few snacks in the drawers in the kitchen if you feel hungry." He welcomes you, giving you a faint smile before going to his bedroom.

You look around... Should you explore? Yeah, why not? As soon as the shower starts, you begin to wander around the house. The drawers were filled with snacks and the fridge with water, milk and egg... Nothing else. How did this man lived? Whatever. You go to the living room and turns on the TV, putting on your favorite show, yeah, the sound definitely has a problem but your ears would probably get used to it, it was some sort of faint static it could be heard on the background but whatever. As you wander through the house, the drawer closes to the door catches your eye, you open it and... A pistol and a dog tag. Your eyes widen slightly but then you frown, you take the dog tag and before you can read anything in it, a hand rips the dog tag from yours, your heart falls, your face going pale.

You gulped and looked at König, his face was dark, his eyes filled with disappointment, your eyes immediately went back to the drawer, not wanting to look at him, your hands shaking. He sighs and throws the dog tag back in the drawer and closes it. "Forgot to lock it."

You two stay silent for a while, before you murmur an "Sorry." Nervously. He shakes his head, "Don't be. It's okay to be curious... Just don't do it again." His voice was deep and dark, like if he was giving an order...

"... I'm gonna order some pizza. We can watch a movie, c'mon." He tries to sound more excited as he pulls you by the waist, leading you to the couch. You were still shocked, but trying to relax as you do breathing exercises. He tried to make small talk but you were still thinking about the pistol and the dog tag...

The pizza arrives not long after, he picks it up and goes back to the couch, placing the pizza on top of the living room mini table and putting on some movie on Netflix.

The silence was uncomfortable, the pizza munching sounds not helping. After half an hour, he pauses the movie and looks at you. "I have to explain something to you." He says in a serious tone. You look back at him and gulps, nodding.

He takes a deep breath, "I used to be a soldier, a lieutenant. I was in the army from 17 to 29, almost 30. I retired earlier because of my mental health, it was killing me from the inside." He puts his hand on his chest, "I had no choice. I've done a lot of things that shouldn't have been done and I regret it with my heart."

"You're... A war criminal...?" You ask, the tone quiet and uncertain. He shakes his head, "No... No, not that I'm aware at least." He chuckles nervously, looking away, "I've... Killed a lot of men. My hands are filled with blood... But I've never wanted it, I never wanted to be a soldier, to kill people. I've always loved art, and I'm doing what I want, what I love now and I can't escape my past, it doesn't matter where I go. My soldier self is part of me, I can't get away from it." He vents, his tone getting sadder and more self aware.

You nod, taking a breath and sighing, "I don't know how it feels, how it is to have such a hard backstory... Are you in therapy at least?" You ask and he nods, "I take meds.. I don't want to talk about it."

Nodding, you sigh, "I understand... I'm sorry for sneaking in your things, I shouldn't have done that." You clench your fists and look at your lap, feeling trapped, disappointed at yourself... Until, he takes your chin and lifts your face to look at him. "It's okay." He says, softer, making your heart beat faster. He gets closer... Closer... Closer, until your lips touch his. You immediately kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He smiles on the kiss and takes you closer by your waist until your legs are on his lap. The kiss is soft, like a make-up kiss, warm.

You were the one to break the kiss, your eyes meeting his... And he panics, "Oh verdammt— es tut mir leid— I'm sorry, you're just so pretty and I'm so awkward, I'm-" He freaks out, immediately taking his hands out of your waist. You smile and giggle.

"It's okay, I liked it." You take him by the cheek, making him look at you. "You- you did?" He asks, not believing you. You nod and smile, "Yeah." "Y-yeah?" "Hell yeah!" You giggles and kisses him, you taking the lead now. This one was much more playful than intense as the last one, you break the kiss a few times because you were giggling and he starts giggling too. He pulls you closer as he lays down on the couch, you getting on top of him. You two start laughing, apparently for no reason at all.

After relaxing, you two just cuddled, he was warm and you even warmer due to your weight. It was comfortable and the closeness was making the heart of the both of you relax. Him giving you forehead kisses from time to time. "Hey... You wanna sleep here?" He asks and you nod, "Sure, why not."

The night falls and you were used to showering before sleeping and you definitely needed one... But you had no clothes to wear! He was okay with sharing the bed with you and you didn't want to smell bad. So you asked for some of his clothes, he at first laughed but then gave you a shirt and some boxers.

For some reason, the water of his shower was freezing cold and had no heating option, so poor you. His shirt was bigger than your, that was rare, that never happened with your exes, it was nice to now have someone that was bigger than you, it makes your heart warm... and the boxers a bit loose but fitted better than the shirt, you put your hair on a bun with a satin scrunchie and go to lay with him. The heater was on so that was nice. "Goodnight." You tell him before he turns off the lights and lays next to him.

..."Can we cuddle? You're warm and I like your weight on top of me..." He asks a bit shyly, your heart beating faster. You look at him and nod, snuggling closer to him, he pulls you closer, getting you slightly on top of him. "Goodnight." "Night..." And you both fall asleep.

When you woke up he was already up. You stretch and yawn, going to the kitchen after fixing your hair (or trying) and he was already there, eating his breakfast. His eyes light up as he sees you, "Morning. I made breakfast! Eat!" He says, sounding excited. You smile and join him, it wasn't the best but it was good enough.

You two spend the afternoon together, watching movies, chatting, playing in the snow. At night, you were ready to go home. He drives you to your place, and in the door, he kisses you goodbye.

You get in the house, very happily, smiling widely and your father notices, he smirks. "Just a friend, uh?" He teases and you chuckle. "*Boy*friend now, dad." You correct him playfully and he rolls his eyes.

"I knew it.”

Sorry, this took too long!! I was in a creativity block and didn't know what to do but i hope this is fun to read!!! Love yall, stay safe, xoxo from Kel. Feel free to send me asks!