#as some sort of prize and dessert of sorts

[mercyofempty]

i love having no knowledge about anything that goes on in archie sonic. can you say that again tails but in my better ear.

[p0orbaby]

Meet Cute

summary: it was always meant to be

warnings: just fluff for this one

a/n: probably my favourite pairing of mine to write

word count: 1.4k

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Leah Williamson is not your type. This, you decide the moment you spot her from across the ballroom, swiping a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray.

You’re aware she’s famous, which is typically a red flag for you. Infamous in your world, where all the proper names are whispered behind manicured hands and anything resembling normalcy is held with the same disdain as a counterfeit handbag. Leah Williamson is an athlete, which in your circles is roughly akin to being an overpaid circus act.

But what really gives you pause is her haircut.

Short, blonde, not-quite-pixie. She looks like she’s wandered in here by mistake, a traveler who’s taken the wrong exit on the motorway and ended up in a place where the speed limit is fifty miles under what she’s used to. You half-expect her to pull out a map and ask someone the quickest way back to civilisation. Instead, she tips her head back and downs the champagne like it’s water, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and you’re immediately in love.

Of course, you won’t admit this, even under threat of being forced to wear last season’s Chanel. Love, in your world, is about as fashionable as pleather.

Your grandmother, God rest her weary soul, once said, “You’ll know it’s love when you’re willing to risk wearing nude tights for them.” Nude tights, in her book, being one of the greatest crimes against humanity. You’re not sure you’re there yet, but the idea doesn’t fill you with as much dread as it would have this morning.

But you digress. You’re here at this godforsaken gala because your father insists on parading you like a prize cow before other old-money families, hoping you’ll marry someone with a suitable lineage. You’re twenty-six and your father has begun to suspect you might have, as he put it, “alternative preferences.” This is his way of reminding you that lineage is everything, and falling for someone without a trust fund is tantamount to treason.

So here you are, in a dress that costs more than most people’s cars, standing next to the dessert table and pretending the caviar blinis don’t taste like expensive regret. Across the room, Leah is now juggling her champagne glass and a miniature beef Wellington, and she seems to be losing.

You decide to rescue her. Or rather, you decide to rescue yourself from having to listen to Lord Farnsworth’s lecture on the importance of preserving the family crest for the fifteenth time this evening.

“Having fun?” you ask when you reach her, which is a stupid question because of course she isn’t. Nobody is having fun here.

She turns to you, and for a moment, you’re convinced she’s going to hand you her beef Wellington like you’re the help. Instead, she gives you a smile so dry you could use it to exfoliate.

“Are you?” she asks, and her voice is lower than you expected, with that clipped accent that tells you she’s from somewhere north of where people have indoor pools.

You shrug, because you don’t really know how to answer that without resorting to a level of honesty that would make your therapist proud but your mother faint.

“I’ve had root canals that were more enjoyable,” you say, and she laughs, a short bark of a sound that seems to surprise even her.

“Fair,” she says, and you feel like you’ve passed some sort of test.

“So what brings you to the seventh circle of hell?” you ask, watching as she abandons her beef Wellington on a passing waiter’s tray like she’s releasing a burden into the wild.

“I was invited,” she says, as though that explains everything, and maybe it does. Maybe she’s been told, like you have, that there are some invitations you just don’t turn down. Even if they come with the risk of being cornered by Lord Farnsworth and his endless tirade about how the current generation is ruining the art of fox hunting.

“Ah,” you say, because you understand that language. “That explains the face”

“What face?”

“The one you’ve been making all night,” you say, trying to demonstrate by contorting your own face into what you hope is an accurate imitation.

She grins again, and it occurs to you that Leah Williamson might be one of those rare people who looks more attractive when they’re amused. Most people, in your experience, become grotesque when they’re laughing, all exposed gums and teeth that are never as straight as they should be. But her face lights up in a way that suggests she doesn’t find the world half as disappointing as you do.

“And what face have you been making?” she asks, leaning in a little closer, and you catch a whiff of her perfume—something that’s probably advertised with shots of people running through fields of lavender, but on her, it smells like trouble.

You gesture vaguely. “It’s somewhere between ‘bored out of my skull’ and ‘I can’t believe I’m not getting paid for this’”

“I’ll have to try that one,” she says, glancing over at Lord Farnsworth, who seems to have set his sights on you again, the poor man. “But I’ll need some pointers”

“First, you need to perfect the art of the disinterested nod,” you say, demonstrating. “Like you’re listening, but you’ve also just remembered you left the oven on”

She mimics you, and it’s terrible, but you applaud her effort anyway.

“Close enough,” you say. “Next, you have to practice the well-timed yawn. Not too obvious, but just enough to suggest you’ve heard all this before”

She pretends to yawn, and it’s so exaggerated that a few people around you turn to look.

“Subtlety is key,” you remind her.

“I’ll work on it,” she says, her grin widening as though she’s actually enjoying herself now, which is against all logic.

“And finally,” you say, feeling suddenly bold, “you have to perfect the getaway”

“The getaway?”

“Yeah,” you say, glancing at Lord Farnsworth, who is now being temporarily distracted by some poor woman in pearls. “Like this”

You grab her by the arm and start walking, weaving your way through the crowd with the precision of someone who has been doing this their whole life. She doesn’t resist, though she does give you a curious look as you lead her past your father, who is deep in conversation with someone equally dull.

You find yourself in the courtyard, where the air is cooler and the moon is doing its best impression of a romantic comedy backdrop. Leah stops and looks up at the sky, as though she’s surprised to find it there.

“Nice,” she says, and you can’t tell if she’s talking about the view or the escape route.

“Much better than listening to Lord Farnsworth,” you say, and she turns to you with that smile again, the one that’s starting to feel dangerously like an invitation.

“So,” she says, as if continuing a conversation you didn’t know you were having, “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

The question is so cliché it should make you cringe, but it doesn’t. Instead, it feels like the most natural thing in the world, and you find yourself saying, “I’m here because I lost a bet with Satan”

She chuckles, a low rumble in her chest that makes you feel like you’ve won something. “And what did you bet on?”

“That I could get through this evening without wanting to jump into traffic,” you say, and she laughs again, this time a little louder.

“I think you lost that bet the moment you saw the guest list,” she says, and you nod in agreement.

“So what about you?” you ask, genuinely curious now. “Why are you here?”

“Because I was invited,” she repeats, but this time, there’s something else in her tone, something that makes you think she’s not just talking about the gala.

You want to ask her what she means, but you don’t. Instead, you reach out and take her hand, surprising both of you.

“Let’s make another bet,” you say, feeling a strange kind of thrill, like you’re standing on the edge of something.

“What kind of bet?” she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly, but there’s a glint in them that makes you think she’s game.

“That we can get through the rest of this evening without wanting to jump into traffic,” you say, squeezing her hand just a little.

She considers this for a moment, then grins. “You’re on”

And just like that, the evening shifts. The gala, the people, the expectations—they all fade into the background as you and Leah step into something that feels suspiciously like possibility.

You don’t know where this is going, but for the first time in a long time, you’re excited to find out. And maybe, just maybe, you’re willing to risk wearing nude tights for her. But only if you lose the bet.

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Legend's Birthday

Pairing: Legend x Reader

Warning(s): Smut, duh.

Notes: It was Legend's birthday a bit ago, so y'all know what that means! Set in the modern world where Legend is a museum-curator-slash-retired-adventurer. Inspired by the beautiful and amazing @h4wari. Hope you enjoy, big sis!!!

Masterlist

If there was one thing you learned from living with Legend, it was how to be sneaky.

He was a lot sharper than most people gave him credit for, and it was as attractive as it was frustrating, considering the predicament you had subjected yourself to over the last week, seeing how snow and seasonal depression weren't the only things heralded by the month of November.

It was Legend's birthday today, and you had pulled out all the stops to keep him from discovering your little scheme to celebrate his special day.

It's not a big deal, you remembered him saying after you nearly had a meltdown last November after realizing you had been missing his birthday for the past few years of your relationship. I'm always busy when they happen, so why bother?

Why bother? Because you loved him, damnit!

So, naturally, you set a private calendar notice a week before the event to prepare. There were many conventional ways to celebrate birthdays–eating cake, giving presents, going out for a nice dinner, letting the birthday person pick the movie of the night–but neither you or Legend were particularly conventional, which led you to a fine invention known as the Internet.

The search results had been appropriately varied, ranging from Reddit's suggestions of diving hand-in-hand off the Golden Gate Bridge (exhilarating, but you wanted to be alive afterward) to booking a last-minute year-long cruise across the world, which, while you were sure he might appreciate, was neither within your long-term interests or price range.

So, really, the bunny costume you haphazardly ordered from a random shady website was a mix of both worlds, and you couldn't be blamed for the impromptu trip you made to the grocery store in search of baby carrots once your dear boyfriend traipsed to work, bidding you farewell with a grumpily-affectionate kiss that made your heart flutter and your brain cackle at the surprise he was about to receive in a few hours.

The costume arrived two hours after Legend departed. You giddily slipped on the ensemble: a swimsuit-esque bodysuit made out of maroon leather that shone in the dim light of your shared bedroom, followed by some black cuff links, a small choker that did nothing of the sort, and a headband with pink-tipped bunny ears shooting from the black band, a bendable wire running through the middle of each one to allow for easy customization.

After adjusting the ears to your liking, one bent and the other sticking straight up like a fat little antenna, you strode to the closet and found the real prize: the fluffiest bunny tail butt plug the internet had to offer, which was saying something. You grabbed the plug and a small bottle of lube, squirting a bit on the tip and fiddling for the small hole in the back of your leotard, positioning the plug where it needed to be before slowly working it in. The sensation of being stretched was strange, but not in a bad way, and you gave your ass a few experimental shakes, shrugging when all you felt was a gentle tug as the fabric of your bodysuit shifted.

Feeling ready to tackle the rest of your day, you walked (hobbled) down to the kitchen, retrieving the baby carrots and putting them in a small bowl before moving to your next project: the cake currency cooling in the refrigerator. You had baked and frosted it prior to getting dressed, so there was only one thing left to do before your boyfriend came home in approximately thirty minutes.

You opened the refrigerated and pulled the cake from the top shelf, setting it on the counter as you retrieved the prepared piping bags–pink and red, of course–approaching the dessert with a determined expression.

This was it. Your magnum opus, if you do say so yourself. You would be the first to admit that your baking skills weren't exactly stellar, nor were you particularly good at decorating, but damnit, if you weren't going to do your hardest to make this the best birthday cake he had seen in his life.

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you brought the piping bag down to the frosted canvas before you, just begging to be defiled in the best of ways. With nigh-unbreakable concentration, you carefully penned the words 'happy birthday' onto the top half of the cake in smooth red icing. A smile broke across your face as you scanned the writing, realizing, with a healthy dose of relief, that it was legible and there were no grievous spelling errors that would send him into a conniption.

"Fuck yeah," you muttered, hastily adjusting the slightly-slipping headband before grabbing the pink icing, spelling out his name in curvy pastel letters that took up the rest of the cake. It wasn't a masterpiece, by any means, but it was beautiful in a DIY kind of way, and that was good enough for you.

Your phone buzzed from the counter and you practically shot over, reading the message on the screen with wide eyes.

It was Legend.

And he was heading home.

Now.

"Shit, shit," you cursed under your breath, hurrying to (gently) shove the piping bags and cake back into the refrigerator before darting upstairs to retrieve the other present you had gotten him–a collection of leather-bound notebooks for him to catalogue his observations during work–before sprinting back down to set the neatly-wrapped box on the kitchen counter, making sure the house was spotless before practically throwing yourself on the living room couch with the bowl of carrots, heart pounding as you crunched on one of the small sticks.

This was it... and you were simultaneously terrified and excited to see his reaction.

There was quiet click and the front door swung open.

Legend loved his job as the Head Curator at Hylia University.

After many, many years of grueling adventuring for whatever company paid him, it was a nice change of pace to be able to sit down and catalogue some fancy rocks, all the while sipping his home-brewed coffee and scoffing with other veterans about the interns.

Which was what he was doing right now, except he wasn't sitting or sipping or scoffing. The red-haired intern cowered as he pinched his temples, letting out a sigh dry enough to drain the ocean.

"What is this, Nicole?" he asked, voice deceptively calm as the other interns shifted nervously around him, their eyes rippling around the area like a patch of particularly turbulent waves. "And don't tell me it's a rock."

"I won't," she squeaked, and Legend had the distinct urge to shake her by the shoulders.

"It's a ruby," he said flatly, watching as her soul withered under his gaze. Good. His eyes fixed to the certain display she had attempted to place the ruby, which now sat in her tumbling hands, in. "And where did you just put it?"

Silence.

Then.

"The igneous rock display...?" Her tone was edged with terror, and he had the feeling that she would have pissed herself had he not been her boss.

"Nicole," his arms crossed over his chest as he sent her a look. "Why in Hylia would you put it there?"

"It's a rock," she all but whimpered, and Legend had to physically bite his tongue to force himself to listen to the rest of her insane logic. "And I think the mineral composition is similar to the ones from this–"

He held up a hand, putting a stop to the madness taking place. The other interns shifted like a flock of restless geese, waiting for his next move with bated, shuddering breath. Weirdos. "I don't know what's worse," he began. "That you think a metamorphic rock belongs in the igneous display or that you didn't think to place it in the gemstone display, with the other gemstones" Legend gestured to the display at the end of the room with a 'are you serious?' expression. "Did the sign just float away or do I need to enlarge the font for you?"

Her bottom lip trembled, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners, and he sighed. "Do not cry," Legend warned, tone leaving no room for argument. "Just go put it in the gemstone display."

"But sir–" another intern pipped up, and Legend silenced him with a thick glare.

"What, Dillon?" he growled, a headache already brewing at the promise of more fuckery. "What could you possibly have to add?"

"We can't put it in that display," Dillon said, tone edging with the same apprehension that Nicole's had possessed earlier. He ran a hand through his brown hair, looking like he was internally praying to whatever deity existed for protection against their ornery boss. "It's broken."

Legend's eye twitched. "Broken? How?"

"By you, sir," another intern said weakly, looking like they would rather die than be here. "During the burglary attempt last week."

Ah, he had almost forgotten about that. Legend may not have been the young, spry adventurer he once was, but it didn't mean he didn't still have it, as he had shown last week by punching a would-be burglar into the gemstone display case, securing their hands together with a length of measuring tape as the interns watched, practically on their knees in awe. You had laughed like a maniac when he shared that particular experience over a meal at the mom and pop restaurant in town, and the memory would have brought a smile to his face had he not been with the current company.

"And why isn't it fixed?" he rubbed his temples in an attempt to alleviate the brewing headache. "Who's in charge of glass maintenance?"

"Maurice is," Dillon coughed into his fist, and Legend felt his expression sour further.

Maurice, an ancient custodian who had been working here since before he had been born, but Legend more commonly thought of the other man as the current bane of his existence. The old fart was perpetually late, never cleaned the exhibits properly, and, for some bizarre reason, really enjoyed the smell of pipe cleaner. Probably more than a sane person should have, Legend had come to realize when he caught the man sniffing from the bottle in between halfhearted scrubs of said pipes, only to threaten to douse him in alcohol in a manner that had Legend backing out of the room with his middle fingers raised protectively.

"Of course he is," Legend grumbled. "Well, someone get the horn and summon him or, I don't know, just leave the ruby in the igneous display."

"But you said–"

"Not another word, Nicole," the blonde silenced her with a raise of his hand. "Now, I'm going to get some coffee, and I expect that ruby to be with the gemstones when I get back. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," Nicole nodded, clutching the stone a bit tighter as her eyes flashed with determination. "Shall I label it?"

"Don't push your luck, Nicole," he turned and strode down the hall toward the cafeteria, pushing some hair from his face, grimacing slightly when a deridingly pink strand stood out against his skin. He was never one for that color, but after a terrible Halloween accident involving temporary hair dye and setting conditioner, he found it was just one of the things he would have to live with, especially when you assured him that pink was most definitely his color, much to his (amused) chagrin.

The line for coffee wasn't horrendously long, leaving him with a few short minutes to contemplate the day before receiving a cup of his favorite brew: black as his soul with a hidden sprinkle of sugar. While he typically preferred your coffee to the store-bought alternatives, he had already finished the thermos you sent him off with, leaving him high and dry amidst the madness of the day.

With a huff, Legend started to his office, offhandedly checking his watch. 5:02 pm, which meant only twenty-eight minutes separated him from you.

Legend allowed himself to smile as he pushed into the office, collapsing in the first seating arrangement he saw, a plush chair typically reserved to comfort the unfortunate souls that found themselves in his lair. You were always the highlight of his day, and not even redheaded interns putting rubies in igneous rock displays could dampen his excitement, especially when his calendar dinged and the realization that it was his birthday hit harder than any insane custodian.

Birthdays had always been a bit of a sore spot for him, which only increased when he began dating you. He didn't need anything special, it was just another day, and yet you had seemed genuinely distressed when it was revealed that you had inadvertently missed his birthday for the past three years, swearing up and down to make this year the best one he had ever had. Legend highly doubted that, mostly because he had kept a careful eye on your shared bank account for any... suspicious purchases, which there were none, and you seemed to have all but forgotten about it. Good. He was just fine without being fawned over for forcing his mother to undergo hours of excruciating agony to bring him into his world.

Still, there was a small part of him that hoped you remembered, if only to hear your sweet voice wishing him a 'happy birthday', but he was more than content to simply live his life like it was any other day.

Legend checked his watch again.

5:09 pm.

...Fuck it.

The chair creaked as he abruptly stood up, grabbing his coat from the wall and striding out of the office like he owned the place, not bothering to send any warning to the interns over their newfangled 'Groupme' app because, damnit, it was his birthday and he didn't need to take their bullshit until tomorrow.

Besides, he had a house to get home to.

You nearly dropped the bowl when the door began to swing open, a millisecond away from choking on the carrot in your mouth as Legend's form filled the doorway.

He was home.

Early.

You had spent so much time preparing your outfit and the cake and the presents that you had completely forgotten to prepare your heart along with them

"Hi," you squeaked, feeling very much like the rabbit you were dressed as he took in the sigh of you, perched on the couch with a bowl of carrots in your lap and an apprehensive expression on your face. '"..You're home early."

"Yeah," said your boyfriend eloquently, eyes glued to your form. A red blush bloomed over his cheeks, which were already a bit pink from the cold. "You–"

"Are you hungry?" You asked at the same time, hesitantly bringing another carrot to your red-painted lips, biting it in half with a small crunch. His gaze snapped to your mouth, and you could have sworn you saw him gulp. "There's... there's cake in the kitchen."

He glanced over, but not for long, eyes returning to your body. You had always loved the color of his eyes, so intensely blue that you swore they looked purple with the right lighting. When he remained silent, you drew in a breath.

"Happy birthday," you felt a bit embarrassed from the way his eyebrows shot up in disbelief at the phrase. "I know I missed it the last few years, but I promise I'll do better, so, um, happy birthday. Again."

Legend blinked a few times, and it was in that moment that you noticed just how white his knuckles had gotten around the handle of his briefcase. "Is that...?"

You nodded, placing the bowl on the end table as you waited for his true reaction.

"You're wearing a..." he hesitated, and you tried to sit a bit straighter under his gaze, which wasn't unusual, but it felt a lot more poignant in this moment. "...bunny costume."

"Yes," you said, feeling a bit ashamed.

"For me?"

"Who else?" you forced a small smile, ears flopping as you nodded on instinct. "I'm sorry if it's weird–"

"It's not," he interjected, setting his briefcase down and locking the door with one hand. "Not weird, I mean."

You bit your lip, praying to Hylia that he would do something. "...Can I get you anything?"

"You," Legend said, and you nearly jumped when he shucked off his coat and strode over, coming to a stop just inches in front of you. a callused hand grasped your chin, encouraging you to meet his gaze. His smile was both gentle and feral, and you shivered a bit at the desire rolling in his irises.

"Me?"

"Yes," was his response before he bent down and kissed you, tongue lapping at the seam of your lips to deepen the action, mouth moving against yours in a way that made you want to melt into him. He tasted faintly of store-bought coffee and you were tempted to tease him for cheating on you, but it was neither the place nor the time, especially when his free hand grabbed your hip, a bit chilly against your warmed skin. You wrapped your hands around his biceps, pulling him closer and sighing into his mouth.

Legend drew away first, breathing deepening as he stared into your eyes. His expression was soft, and still a bit shocked, like he couldn't quite believe was he was seeing. That's okay, you'd make him believe it.

"You're amazing," he broke the silence, leaning forward to kiss the crown of your head, mere inches away from the bunny headband.

"I'm not," you joked, earning a look.

"You are," this time, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, which you had neglected to paint in the likeness of an actual rabbit. Oh well, next time. "How long have you been planning this?"

"Since last year," you admitted far too quickly, expression turning a bit sheepish. Your fingers dug gently into the muscles of his forearm. "I wanted to make up for... you know."

"You didn't have to," he mused, hand tracing a line from your hip to the tail, stroking gently over the puffed ball. It was round and soft, quivering slightly when he thumbed at it. "Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"But I wanted to–!" you countered, only to interrupt yourself with a gasp when he gave the tail an experimental tug.

"Hmm," he hummed, tone a bit distracted. His other hand moved to the front of the bodysuit, knuckles running over the pleated leather. "Why a bunny, though?"

You recovered enough to send him a soft grin. "You like bunnies."

"I like you," Legend corrected with an answering smile, and it was hard not to laugh at the cheesiness of the statement.

"Same difference," you chuckled, sitting up a bit straighter when a hand ghosted over your breast, though it quickly swung up to cup your cheek as he pulled you into another dizzying kiss. You sighed into his mouth and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your level.

Time seemed to meld together as you connected, mouths moving to an invisible beat. You ran your tongue against his own, drawing a shiver from the man. It didn't take a genius to notice the straining bulge in his shorts, and you were determined to make this the best birthday ever. "Link," you whispered against his lips, earning a curious look. "Is that a carrot in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"

"Carrot," he responded immediately, and you snorted in response, breaking the kiss to shoot him a saucy grin.

"Oo, does that mean it's up to eat?"

This time, it was Legend's turn to snort. "You're ridiculous."

"And you're about to get lucky," you laughed, moving your hands down to undo the buttons of this shirt, which was promptly thrown over his shoulder once it was off, revealing miles and miles of warm, slightly-tanned skin for your perusal. His cheeks still held the lightest pink tinge, and you discovered that the flush hadn't stopped there, extending down the smooth plane of his neck to stain the tops of his shoulders. A smattering of thin, silvery scars crisscrossed his abdomen, a testament to his adventures in the great unknown. "You're beautiful, you know that?"

Legend flushed a bit darker

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, but you knew that he secretly loved the praise. You loved it, too.

"No, really," you stroked a hand from his pectoral to his obliques, relishing in the shiver the action earned you. "I could look at you all day."

He looked ready to reply, but your fingers drifted to the waistband of his shorts, unbuckling his belt with practiced ease, the item soon joining his shirt on the floor. "Is this okay?" you asked softly, pointer finger toying with the shiny metal button holding it all together.

"More than," Legend said without missing a beat, face tinted a brilliant red that made you want to kiss him breathless. You didn't hesitate, popping the button and sliding the zipper down in quick succession. With a smile that was far more devious that you wanted to admit, you slid your hand under the fabric and wrapped it around the hot, straining length of his cock, giving the sensitive flesh a gentle squeeze as a breath shuddered from his chest. "Fuck, (Y/n)–"

"Shh," you soothed, your unoccupied hand coming up to cup his right hipbone. "Sit down for me?"

Legend nodded wordlessly, allowing you to guide him to plop down on the couch, legs spread and cock tenting the already wet fabric of his underwear. You sank down between his thighs, movement hindered only by the tail still lodged deep inside you, and quickly freed his dick, pulling his boxers just under his balls.

You didn't give him much time to prepare, licking a long, hot stripe up the underside of his cock, cleverly flicking the quivering tip with the flat of your tongue. Legend's fingers immediately sunk into the couch cushions, abs visibly tightening as he groaned to the ceiling. The sound sent a rush of liquid heat spiraling through your bones, igniting every nerve in your body, and you grinned, feeling more confident that you had in days. "I love you," you murmured against his length, planting a sloppy kiss to the side of it, and Legend sucked in a sharp breath, watching you with half-lidded eyes and a blush bright enough to put the sun to shame.

"I love you too," he whispered back, and you rewarded him with a slow lick to the flushed head of his dick, eagerly lapping at the salty pre burbling from the fat tip. A hand found its place on the top of your head, gently toying with the rabbit ears attached to your head. "Hah– (Y/n)–"

You said his name in response, breath ghosting deliciously over the wet skin of his length before you moved to take him in your mouth, starting with the flushed head. Legend's remaining hand gripped the cushion harder as he fought for control, but it was for naught when your tongue swirled over the quivering flesh, drawing a series of groans from his pink, parted lips. You preened at the noise, relaxing your throat to fit a bit more of him into your mouth, beginning to suck when you were satisfied.

"Ah–!" Legend practically cried when the suction registered. He called your name once more, tone pitching as your cheeks hollowed more and more, tongue idly flicking the underside of his head. "Shit, you're s-so good at this–"

Your response was to suck harder, relishing in the way his hips inadvertently bucked, forcing a good few inches of him into your mouth. Legend groaned, attempting to curb the motion, if the obvious strain in his abdomen and thighs meant anything, but you didn't mind. He was always so worried about pushing boundaries or hurting you, which was sweet, but you weren't made of glass. "Mm, fuck, sorry–" he panted, but you merely took him deeper, huffing softly to let him know it was okay.

Legend trembled like a leaf by the time you began to move, bobbing your head in a familiar rhythm, one hand intertwining with his--the contact a sort of whispered intimacy that never failed to make your heart mush and your knees weak--while the other stroked the base of his length, creating a pseudo-block just in case he did subconsciously decide to harpoon your throat again. "Oh, Hylia," he gasped, fingers digging so hard into the couch that you feared it would rip. "'M not gonna last–"

The warning had the opposite effect, with you sucking even harder around his trembling, leaking length, thumb stretching down to caress his balls with a featherlight touch. His moans pitched in volume and tone, until he was nearly keening under your hands, babbling something unintelligible as you worked him over, popping off his cock every so often to lave licks and kisses over the shuddering flesh, making sure to pay extra attention to the flushed head, which quivered oh-so-deliciously beneath the arched flat of your tongue. It was a far cry from the gruff, ornery persona he employed to face the rest of the world, and seeing him crumble under your attentions was the best feeling in Hyrule, especially when his hips jerked softly, nudging the head of his cock deeper into your waiting mouth.

"Shit, (Y/n)," he hissed, gazing down at you with a lovestruck expression that made your core throb. His chest heaved and you didn't fail to notice the way his dick seemed to stiffen against your tongue, balls drawing up slightly under your thumb. He was close, and you knew it. "Please, love, c-can I–?"

As if he even had to ask. You responded by drawing up, the head of his cock just barely within the confines of your lips, and sinking back down, taking him to the hilt. Legend let out a shout, lips falling open as his orgasm hit him like a meteor. His hands flew to your head, gently tangling in your hair and pulling slightly when the first spurt of cum flooded your mouth, then the second, and the third. Your boyfriend trembled as you brought him down with slow, easy suckles around the head, happily drinking down his release. It tasted salty, but not enough to be gross, with the faintest hint of sweetness that you just knew was attributed to the pineapple juice he'd taken a liking to a year back.

"Fu-fuck," Legend's chest heaved as he watched you swallow his seed, looking very much like a man who had just seen the Goddess herself.

You licked your lips, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. "How was it?" the words spilled from your mouth before you could stop them, but you truly did want to know. You always wanted to make him feel good.

"It was amazing," Legend responded, voice deliciously breathy as he bent to plant a kiss on your forehead, one hand coming down to tenderly wipe a bit of cum from your cheek. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," you countered with a soft grin, and he rolled his eyes, patting the spot beside him. You happily stood up, idly stretching your sore joints before plopping down next to him, hands folded in your lap. They didn't stay that way for long, because he was suddenly pulling you into a deep kiss, uncaring of the taste on your tongue. "Mmph, Link–"

Legend's hands found your hips, kneading the soft flesh as your mouths melded together, unhurried and slow, just how you liked it. One hand crept up to cup your left breast, and you mewled when his mouth moved to ghost along the column of your neck. "You're incredible," he breathed into your flesh, leaving swathes of gooseflesh in his wake. "I mean it."

"I love you," you whispered through clenched teeth, because it was the only thing you could say. Because it was the only thing you would say. "Happy birthday, Link."

"You too, (Y/n)."

And he was kissing you again, hands roaming your back in search of the hidden zipper. Once located, he slowly tugged it down, dragging the calloused tips of his fingers down the curve of your spine as he went, eliciting shiver after shiver from your poor body. Your arms wrapped around his upper back, fingers tangling in the hair at the base of his head, gently tugging at the blonde strands to coax a rumbled groan from his chest.

Legend's head dipped to the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking a deep bruise into the soft skin. You gasped softly when he delivered a playful nip to the affected flesh, the prick of his teeth sending shockwaves down to your very soaked core, which only grew more wet when several fingers bushed against the tail lodged inside you, toying with the furry addition. "Oh!"

"Is this alright?" he asked against your shoulder, and your heart swelled at the genuine concern in his tone.

"Mhm," you confirmed, shivering anew when the touches grew more serious, until he pulled it from you entirely with a lewd squelch. You hissed a breath through your teeth when a finger circled the rim of your ass, dipping in easily due to the lube. "Ah, Link–"

"It's okay," he hummed softly, moving up to kiss the shell of your ear, tongue darting out to lick the tip. "Tell me if it's too much."

Unlikely, but if he insisted. You had played around with that hole a few times before, though Legend was always sure to confirm that you were okay with it and not trying to mindlessly please him. While you didn't quite understand the concept, you were happy that he was checking, even if it got a bit silly, at times. A low groan left you when he added a second finger, slowly scissoring them against your walls. "Oh, Goddesses–"

Legend's lips found yours as his fingers worked, only replacing them with the plug when you began to shift your hips, grinding your wet core against his knee, a thin layer of slick coating the exposed skin. You whimpered at the action, and downright moaned when your swollen nub of a clit inadventatly grazed his knee bone. Fuck, that felt good. "Please, I need–!"

"I know," he soothed, gently dragging the bodysuit down to pool at your hips, revealing your skin to his half-lidded gaze. His head dipped down to mouth hickeys on the tops of your breasts, while your fingers returned to his hair, weaving into the soft blonde strands. "I got you."

"Y-Yeah?" You panted, feeling unfairly warm despite the chill of the outside weather. Legend nodded, laving his tongue over your right breast before delivering a tender bite. When you yelped, he pressed a soft kiss to the affected area. "Ah!"

When he was satisfied, Legend pressed more kisses to your chest, moving lower and lower with each passing second. Your grip on his hair tightened, drawing a soft hiss from the man, and you quickly loosened, murmuring apologies. He kissed your belly in response, hands trailing down your supple sides, passing over your ribs and eventually settling atop your hips, right where the fabric of the bodysuit was bunched. "Can I...?"

"Please," you breathed, core tightening with anticipation, and he didn't hesitate to yank the damp fabric down your legs, throwing it to the wayside before settling back between your legs. You scooted so that your back was flush against the armrest of the couch, thighs spread wide.

"You're gorgeous," he said as soon as you were situated, leaning down to press the gentlest of kisses to your clit, eliciting a soft gasp. You waited for the next action, which would either be a long, flat lick up the length of your cunt or a trail of bites down your thigh, but neither came. In fact, he seemed a bit nervous. "Actually, could we...?"

Your face flushed when he laid on his back, hands raised expectantly. This was new, but you found yourself liking it. "Are you sure?" you asked, not wanting to crush him, especially with so much of your weight on his head and neck.

"Mhm," he confirmed, a bit shifty-eyed, yet still sincere. It wasn't often that he proposed new ideas in the bedroom, and you about to discourage his attempts, so you hesitantly scooted forward so that your hips were parallel with his face, hovering a few inches in the air while your hands planting themselves on his chest for stability.

Legend's breath ghosted over your core and you shuddered. "How do you–?"

"Just sit," he encouraged, hands applying gentle pressure to your thighs in an attempt to coax you down. "Like a chair."

You felt your brows furrow. Was that even safe, having that much pressure on those areas? Goddesses, you did not want to explain to the paramedics why he had broken his neck or skull if this went wrong. "But won't that–?"

"It's safe, don't worry," he interjected softly, tongue darting out to skim the barest edges of your folds, drawing a garbled moan from your chest. "Trust me, okay?"

"I am trusting you," you huffed, though you relented quickly when he tugged at your thighs, tone almost pleading.

"Please? Don't I get one birthday wish?"

You snorted, still hovering. "You're going to use your birthday wish to get me to sit on your face?"

"Yes," there was no hesitation from your boyfriend, and you found yourself laughing, all traces of nerves melting away as the sound rang through the house.

"Fine, fine," you relented. "But if it hurts or you need air, you tell me, okay?"

"Yes, dear," said Legend in a tone that made you want to (gently) smack him. The bastard was teasing you, but your irritation soon melted away when he leaned up, sealing his mouth around your pussy, and used the suction to drag you down a few inches. You went with a hissed breath, aided by the hands kneading into the flesh of your thighs, coaxing you to settle atop his face. "There you go," he mumbled, sending shockwaves through your folds. "Good?"

You didn't trust yourself to speak, so you nodded with an affirming noise, fingers digging slightly into his chest as you fought to stay upright in the face of the onslaught of pleasure. A low groan rumbled from your boyfriend's chest, his tongue sliding against your core like it belonged there. You bit your lip, eyeing his erection, which stood tall and proud, a bit of pre leaking onto the semi-defined muscles of his abdomen, and desire won out. You wrapped a shaky hand around the hard length, earning a muffled moan against your sex and a gentle bite to the crease of your inner thigh and hip, a warning that had your toes practically curling.

Legend's tongue slicked up and down, alternating between long, slow strokes to short, deft flicks that made your core burn with arousal. Your hips rocked–slowly, at first–as you ground yourself against his face, your nails imprinting thin white streaks across his skin. He didn't seem to mind, if the soft groans and appreciative sucks to your clit were any indication. Your voice rose, ringing through the room, and a hand detached from your thigh to cup one of your breasts, thumb flicking over your nipple until it grew hard enough to cut glass.

You responded by gripping his cock harder, beginning to pump the slick appendage in an attempt to give back what you were getting. It was his birthday, damnit!

His mouth moved to latch onto your nub once more, and your hips faltered. "Oh, fuck," you moaned unabashedly, back arching as molten heat swept through your core, igniting every nerve in your body. It was simultaneously too much and not enough. Your core clenched around nothing, and you would have felt embarrassed had his tongue not chosen that exact moment to dip between your folds, softly circling your entrance before worming inside, dragging deliciously against your inner walls. Your moans rose in pitch as your hands scrabbled at his chest, looking for something–anything–to ground yourself with.

Legend hummed, fondling your breast with purpose, intent on feeling you cum from his mouth alone. Sweat beaded on your brow when his tongue grazed that spongey spot within you, sending shockwaves up your spine, ricocheting against every little corner of your body. Your heart pounded like a drum in your heaving chest, just as a coil began to form in your belly. "Link," you whined, wishing you could grab his hair to pull him closer, but you settled with stroking him as best you could in your addled state. "Please, baby, 'm close–"

"I know," his voice, gruff from effort, vibrated deliciously against your center. The hand on your breast moved down to rub your achy clit, while the one on your thigh caught your own hand, holding it in a tender embrace. "Cum for me, love."

You did just that, wailing your release to the ceiling as it crashed down on you like a rogue waves, zings of pleasure swirling up your spine as your lower body threatened to buckle. Your thighs trembled impressively as your boyfriend worked you through it, lapping at your oversensitive folds until you were sure you were going to lose your mind. "Ah, Link, fuck, it's t-too much–!"

His mouth immediately popped off, though not before delivering one last lave to your poor clit. You hissed at the sensation, body practically folding in half as you collapsed onto his chest. "Oh my Hylia," you breathed when your lungs finally began cooperating again. "That was..."

"Delicious," Legend said, and you could just hear the smirk in his tone.

"Shut up," you groaned, regaining a bit of your lost composure. You rose, shifting your hips so that you were sitting on his abdomen, facing him. Legend sat up on his elbows, ears perked with interest, and his cock pressed hotly against the curve of your ass. "Do you want to keep going?"

At your question, he sat up fully, arms wrapping around your back and pulling you close. "What do you think?" Legend asked softly, head dipping to suck at one of the marks on your neck. You hummed, one hand weaving through his hair and tugging, encouraging him to meet your lips in a sweet kiss.

When you broke apart, panting softly, you grinned: "I love you."

Your boyfriend's eyes glimmered with adoration, and his grip tightened, inadvertently pushing your hips back against his straining dick. Whatever he was going to say was drowned out by a low, needy moan, and you were fairly sure you could have cum untouched from the sound alone. "Please," he said in a tone that sounded suspiciously close to begging. "I want to feel you."

"How do you want it?"

Legend's face flushed, and you had to physically force yourself not to chuckle. It had taken a good few years to get him fully comfortable with expressing his desires in the bedroom, and, by Hylia, were you glad his only reservations now seemed to be a misplaced sense of embarrassment. For the Goddess' sake, you had dressed in a rabbit costume for his birthday, so you doubted anything he wanted would shock you. Still, you were happy to wait patiently, hands moving to his shoulders to knead the tense muscles.

"On top," he finally blurted, blush illuminating his cheeks. "Please."

"As you wish, Sir Bunny," you grinned, plating a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. Just because you were the one dressed up didn't mean that you couldn't have a bit of fun.

Your boyfriend didn't have time to laugh before you grabbed his length, giving it a few good pumps before angling the head against your dripping entrance and sinking down. The slide was easy, aided by the copious fluids, and the stretch was something that had your thighs trembling harshly, which only made the friction that much sweeter. A hand gripped your hip, softly guiding the process, but you hardly needed it, moaning long and loud when your hips met with a filthy squelch. "Ah– Link!"

Legend's breath shuddered against the shell of your ear. He nipped the cartilage, earning a soft gasp, before his hand entangled in your own hair, pulling you in for a deep kiss. You opened your month on instinct, allowing his tongue to explore to his heart's content. He was a former adventurer, after all. "Fuck," he breathed, fingers sinking into the flesh of your hip. "You feel so good. 'M not gonna last much longer."

"Me neither," you panted back, your previous activities leaving you more high-strung than a power line. You broke apart, whimpering when he sucked more marks down the column of your neck, occasionally scraping his teeth against tender, trembling skin. Your hips rose on their own accord, only stopping when the head of his dick was just barely within the warmth of your walls. Legend whined lowly, and you sank back down, practically mewling at the stretch.

You continued to move, finding a breakneck pace that had your thighs burning from exertion, though you rather liked it, a sense of urgency broiling in your gut as your boyfriend moaned beneath you, too far gone to bother muffling his noises. His thumb slipped between your legs to help you along, the rough pad stimulating your overstimulated clit until you could hardly think, hips moving up and down as if they had a mind of their own. "F-Fuck," your name fell from Legend's kiss-swollen lips, the look in his half-lidded eyes so full of need that you could have died happy. "Can I– inside?"

"Yes," you responded without missing a beat, a bit surprised by how hot the idea sounded. The thought of him painting your walls white drove you wild. Your hands dragged down his back as you slammed yourself down on him, the head of his cock jamming that one spot within you. "Link, I need you!"

Legend yanked you in for a kiss, and your orgasm hit like a freight train, with your vision actually whiting out for a second as waves of pleasure wracked through your poor, oversensitive body, threatening to tear you apart at the seams. You were dimly aware of the chocked sob escaping your throat, followed by scalding warmth as Legend's cum filled you, thick and slick. The hand in your hair tightened, keeping you in place to meet the slight roll of his hips, prolonging your pleasure until there was nothing left.

After what felt like an eternity, you parted, panting like you had run a marathon. You met his gaze through your lashes, forcing yourself to breathe as the fog of arousal began to recede, leaving you boneless and satisfied. Legend's face was flushed a deep red, the color swooping down to paint his shoulders and chest. He was so beautiful, even while flushed, sweaty, and covered in fluids, still half-hard inside you.

"Wow." You breathed.

"Yeah."

Legend smiled weakly, and you took the opportunity to cup his cheeks, thumbs rubbing soft circles over his flesh. Your lips met, and it was as perfect as you wanted. When you parted, there was a new, more coherent expression on his face: nervousness.

You blinked, concern etched across your face. "Honey, are you--?"

"Marry me," he blurted, and the world stopped. Your mouth actually fell open, jaw slack as you processed his words. You had always assumed he was fine with dating–it wasn't like you needed a piece of paper and fancy ceremony to prove you loved each other–but yet...

"Oh my goddesses," you breathed, and his face fell a bit.

"I'm sorry," he said in a tone that made you wanna to throw up. "I should have waited– you can pretend I never–"

Your heart actually withered and you struggled to correct the situation. "NO. No. Um. Yes! Yes, I'll marry you!"

"You will?" the light returned to his eyes and every nerve in your body rejoiced when his hold tightened around you, betraying his bolstering excitement. Blue eyes glimmered. "You mean it?"

"Mhm," you nodded, injecting as much sincerity as you could in your response. "Let's get married, Link."

He kissed you, and it was everything you could have asked for; not needy or hungry, but soft, tender, a joining as old as time itself.

It was everything.

He was everything.

"I love you," Legend spoke when you broke apart, holding you to his chest like he was scared of letting go. "So much. Thank you."

You locked gazes with him and smiled. "I love you too."

You may not have been the best with remembering birthdays, but now, you had the rest of your life to make it up to him.

As you can see, I'm taking my ES/Bio major very seriously in these fics.

The ending is a bit rushed, but I'll come back and edit it tonight <33

[cheezeybread]

got a fun little request. picture Yuu doing a taste test for Trey for the next unbirthday party. Only... Floyd hears about it and decides to make it a cooking contest with Yuu as a judge. He wants to impress Yuu and show them he can totally do baked goods just as good as Trey. Azul meanwhile probably sees this as a chance to promote the lounge so dollar signs and promotion for him. up to you who wins the contest.

Hey, hey, let him cook!

-Yuu when Floyd shows up to try and make it a competition

This is all written as platonic, although it'd probably be easy to imagine it as romantic heheh

┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑

"Heeeeey, you don't happen to be craving some extra sweets this week, do ya? :)"

The text from Trey caught you completely off guard, especially since he hadn't texted you in well over two weeks...

Almost as if he could sense your confusion, Trey sent multiple texts in a row after that first one, giving you more information about the upcoming unbirthday party and how he was preparing some new desserts and needed someone to test them out before he served them to Riddle and the other Heartslabyul members. Of course, you accepted.

Who knows how (probably Ace, on second thought) Floyd caught wind of this happening, but as soon as he did? Hoooo boy, it was ON!

Floyd gets into strange moods sometimes, and sometimes those moods go into a sort of overzealous competition (unfortunately for the basketball team, that competitive mood never comes around during plays-). This was one of those times.

He approached you after class, presenting you with a terribly-drawn...poster, of sorts? It was pretty much just a page he had colored to look like an appealing advertisement for a "bake-off" between him and Trey for later that afternoon. It even included little stick figures of Floyd and Jade roasting Trey over a spit like a pig, and you with hearts in your eyes as you held out a blue ribbon to Floyd....Oh, yeah, this was definitely made by the eel.

Despite receiving Floyd's "official invitation", you had to go by Octavinelle to see what all the hubbub was about. Mostro Lounge was decorated to the nines, with crepe paper dangling from the ceiling, various posters of Floyd and Trey posing with their own creations, and more hand-drawn posters of Floyd beating Trey (either literally or otherwise-). Azul was absolutely mad with power (when is he ever not?) and was running around the place barking out orders, obviously too busy to talk to you, so you had to hunt down Jade, who graciously explained the situation.

Floyd was challenging Trey to a competition to see who could make the best desserts, summed up. The winner would receive a glamorous prize that was mysteriously being kept a secret for now. The judge? You!

Since you didn't entirely have a choice in whether to participate or not, you groaned inwardly and allowed Jade to pull you aside as he spoke about needing you to "look the part" for a cooking judge. Bam! He pulled out a very glamorous outfit from nowhere, along with a decorative apron that had your name embroidered on it...which led you to wonder how long Floyd had been planning this all out?

But that's not a question for you to worry your pretty little head about! Onto the contest!

Trey begrudgingly accepted the baking challenge, only really agreeing after hearing whatever this "prize" was. Or, at least, that's what you overheard from the massive crowd of students who gathered into the Mostro Lounge to watch the challenge proceed (of course, they still had to pay tickets to come as well as for their meals and drinks!)

You still weren't even sure of what was going on, only that you were seated in a fancy chair on a pedestal with a small table in front of you.

Heck, all you could do was watch as Trey and Floyd stood at their separate areas, baking with such fervor that you'd think they were fighting for their lives. batter was flying everywhere, the crowd was getting splattered with ingredients, and Azul stood to the side with Jade, practically having Thaumark-signs in his eyes.

In the end, Floyd brought up to you a very beautifully-made parfait, and Trey brought a regal, multi-layered cake. You took a bite of each, still not taking this whole contest very seriously.

"I think....Trey wins," You said with a confident smile "Your cake was very good, and uh...stuff."

"What???" Floyd yelled out, putting his hands on his head in dismay while Trey wiped off his apron with a satisfied grim "Why didn't I win???"

All you could do was shrug and hold back a laugh "I don't like parfaits...plus, that gummy shark you tossed in there with all the strawberry jam around it really threw me off."

As Floyd stormed off and began to break almost everything in the lounge, ranging from students to chairs to appliances, Trey looked up to you with his usual charming look.

"So, my prize?" He asked hopefully.

"Oh, yeah, about that," You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly "I literally only just learned about this whole contest an hour ago when Floyd gave me the paper, and I'm still in shock that all this was put together and played out in that time....but yeah, no one ever told me what this prize was."

"Aha!" He chuckled "It's a day with you, Prefect!"

┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙

[2d-reality]

Little Things (The Greedy Secondborn)

characters: Mammon, GN!MC navigation: Lucifer | Mammon | Levi | Satan | Asmo | Beel | Belphie content/warnings: little things you do for the brothers, out of love. fluff. established relationship (implied you are dating all seven brothers equally with the exception of mammon whom i love more) word count: 584 notes: Each brother has their own part, linked above. I am still my own editor and I loathe editing, so please forgive any mistakes!

But even you can only stand so much of his klepto tendencies. He’s good about your most precious things, for the most part. Once, when you were still new to the Devildom, the heirloom necklace you had been unceremoniously transported with went missing. It was the only piece of home you had left, aside from your clothes, and you weren’t proud of the breakdown you’d had when you’d discovered its absence. You were so caught in your grief, and anger at every one of your newly-minted demonic housemates, that you didn’t notice the absence of your guardian for nearly two full days. 

It’s no secret you baby Mammon. Even, and especially, when his brothers make his life a little more difficult with their sibling antics. The prickly behavior certainly lessened with you around, as any off-color comments are immediately met with a harsh glare and sometimes a short word of admonishment. 

It was Asmo who returned your presently most prized possession; you’d been so relieved to have it back that you’d kissed both his cheeks through tears, uncaring of how it had returned to you and unaware of Mammon’s soulful eyes peering from around the doorframe of your bedroom. You had noticed he seemed out of sorts over the coming days, but chalked it up to his avoidant tsundere behavior. If you’d known back then he’d swiped it, in a moment of unawareness, gripped by his sin as he so often was, you might never have forgiven him. 

Your relationship had evolved since then, and you wouldn’t dream of being cross with him now, especially if you learned that he’d hunted for your necklace, shook up every fence he had connections to, levied a hefty charge on goldie with the curiosities dealer that ended up with it, and weathered the lecture from Lucifer as a result without a word, all to see it returned to you. 

He’d been much more careful with the things you held most dear since then. He’s more observant than anyone would give him credit for, especially regarding you, his shining jewel. But you knew that he was as much a victim to his sin as his brothers, and you had learned to cater to it, even if you didn’t know about his crusade for your necklace. 

Lucifer (at least partially at the behest of Diavolo, you presumed) had established an allowance for you. You, ever independent, picked up shifts at the local spots when you could to earn your own money, but you wouldn’t lie, having a little extra to keep up with the elite (which you could forget the brothers were, at times) was nice. It was also nice to have a couple extra grimm to stuff in a pocket, or a drawer, for Mammon to take when his fingers got a little sticky. He ended up spending at least some of it on you, anyways; a popup cafe, a second dessert at lunch, a trinket that reminded him of you. He would vehemently deny being so sentimental, but the twinkle in his eye when you graciously accepted whatever treat he gifted you and returned the favor with a kiss twice as sweet was enough evidence for you. 

If he knew you were purposefully leaving it in the same places every week, and never commented on the hit to your budget, he never mentioned it. You never said anything either, happy to make his life as easy as you could. It was no secret, after all, that you baby Mammon.

[liillyliilly]

Marshmallow Madness

bokuto koutarou x reader words; 1482 synopsis; Marshmallows are one way to lift Bokuto Koutarou’s mood. The other being Y/n, but what happens when the two get mixed?

Fukurodani celebrates almost all of their special occasions with a campfire and s’mores.

Y/n has always been fond of the little tradition, since it was a way to connect with the team members of the volleyball club outside of school and volleyball matches.

Seeing as it was Bokuto’s birthday, everyone decided to get together and spend the night in his backyard roasting marshmallows and sharing their favorite stories of Bokuto. Y/n sat in her camp chair, soaking in the warm fire and the presence of her closest friends.

Laughter was floating around in the air like a perfume made of happiness. Y/n sipped on her hot chocolate and let the dense milk chocolate coat her throat in a soothing manner. Closing her eyes for a moment before opening them, slightly surprised to see Bokuto standing in front of her. When she jumped slightly, Bokuto chuckled before using his left thumb to wipe away the small whipped cream mustache that Y/n had grown after drinking some of her liquid confidence.

“You had a little something on your face.” Bokuto explained before falling down into the chair next to Y/n, which only made her heart race further. The way her heart hit her own chest was like some kind of self-punishment for having a crush on Bokuto Koutarou. But before she could even wish him a happy birthday, Bokuto hopped out of the seat and ran off to go talk with some of the other Fukurodani volleyball team members.

How could a teenage boy be so suave? But especially a teenage boy who was known for going into an 'emo' mood when things didn't go his way. She begged for the universe to make more sense. She begged her heart to see the logical fallacy, that Bokotu's behavior wasn't smooth but rather rather clumsy and geeky. Who was she fooling?

As a sort of teasing exchange, Bokuto had his hair pulled into two pigtails on either side of his head, and Akaashi had a pair of marker eyebrows drawn on to make him look angry. So, everyone couldn’t help but giggle when Akaashi turned around to ask a question.

“Anyone want the last s’more?” Akaashi waved the treat around on a plate as if he was offering up a sacrifice to the heavens. Y/n raised her hand lightly, before shrugging and giving an offhanded statement of how she hadn’t had one yet.

Munching on the dry graham cracker, silky chocolate, and spongy marshmallow, Y/n realized that this was the best s’more she had ever had. Licking her lips and smiling, she stood up and walked over to the campfire to compliment Akaashi on his expert s’more making skills when Bokuto started rambling.

“AKAASHI!!! Did you save that s’more for me like I asked? I’m ready for it now.” Bokuto giddily moved from side to side as he awaited a prize that would never come along. Y/n felt all the color out of her face drain. And suddenly the s’more in her mouth turned to solid rock as she tried to figure out what to do next. Swallowing what remained of the dessert, Y/n pressed her lips into a straight line and tried not to slink away from this confrontation.

“Um, Bokuto, about your s’more. Akaashi gave it to me.” Y/n clasped her hands behind her back. Bokuto slumped his shoulders, before perking back up again. The way the fire’s orange light glowed on him made him look like he was painted with streaks of pure sunlight.

If her eyes were shining with hearts, she's grateful that no one made a comment on it.

“Hey, it's okay, you can just help me find where I put the extra bag of marshmallows inside my house.” Without a second thought Bokuto dragged Y/n into his house. While Bokuto scrambled around opening and then slamming cupboard doors closed, Y/n decided to meander over to a wall that was covered in pictures.

In one of them was a younger Bokuto, with a large gap where his two front teeth should have been, he was sticking his tongue over the empty space. She giggled while tracing his little button nose from the glass covered image. Another image was an older Bokuto, his elbows were bloody but he was still smiling, a discarded bicycle sat in the background of the picture. The next image made Y/n pause, it was one of her and Bokuto. They were barely first years and she was wearing her hair in that god-awful style that she still cringes over.

Bokuto had wanted to put his arm around her in the picture so she obliged and also set her arm on his shoulders. They were acne ridden and unaware of the future, staying stuck in the present rather than worrying over college entrance exams or even having a breakdown over volleyball. The picture wasn’t that weird, but the thing that made it different was the little heart drawn between their heads.

Y/n knew that Bokuto had drawn it because of the little tail on the heart that dipped down slightly further than necessary. In his crooked handwriting, at the bottom of the image were the words: Love you to the moon and back Y/n! It was a cheesy statement, but she wondered if the words still held the same meaning as they did when he was a first year. Had his feelings changed? Or was she destined to remain a mere friend to Bokuto?

“Y/n! Come here please!” Bokuto urged. Y/n brushed her hand over the wooden picture frame before going into the kitchen. Bokuto was standing with his hands on his hips, and a forlorn expression plastered onto his face.

“No marshmallows then?” Y/n asked, mimicking Bokuto’s stance. She let out a long sigh before speaking up, “I really am very sorry about eating your s’more Bo. I should've waited, it's your birthday after all.”

Bokuto tugged on the cuffs of his long sleeve shirt before taking a step forward. “It’s okay, I don’t really mind. But there is something that I’ve been wanting for my birthday for years, and I think you can give that to me instead.”

“It better not be too expensive. I spent a lot of money on ramen last week when you and I hung out.” Y/n pouted, before poking Bokuto in the arm as a tease. In reality, she knew that she would be willing to drop any amount of money for Bokuto. Always trying to pay him back for one thing or another, and for most of her life she was just trying to pay him back for all the love she received from him.

When Bokuto kept walking forward, Y/n backed up slightly, only to bump into the kitchen island. Bokuto set his hands on either side of her body, gripping the granite counter loosely. He refused to look her in the eyes, instead staring at the space beside her head.

“I’ve wanted this for years, but I only want it if you want it too. Because otherwise it would just be really creepy.” He chuckled, a sad laugh that hit lowly on her heart. Y/n used her hand to move his head so that he would meet her eyes with his ones of melted gold.

The house was deadly quiet, a stark contrast from all the laughter and meaningless chatter from the backyard. Glancing down to her lips, Bokuto flushed before rushing to meet her eyes again. Y/n licked her lips, applying a glossy sheen to them.

“Just so I make this clear for you, once we kiss, we aren’t just friends anymore.” Y/n whispered.

“I know. We’re going to be boyfriend and girlfriend.” Bokuto was drained of any melancholy that had ever been present.

“If that’s what you want.” Y/n cupped his face with her hand and Bokuto leaned into her soft touch.

As Bokuto pressed his lips to hers, she felt entirely weightless. She wanted to keep the feeling of his lips on hers to be embalmed through a snarling sweetness. Bokuto only broke away from the kiss because he was smiling too much. He laughed and suddenly Y/n started to laugh with him, Bokuto ran a hand through his hair, only to be greeted with the pigtails from earlier. Y/n tugged the hair ties out gently, letting Bokuto run his hands through his hair to adjust his hair as he saw fit.

“Your lips taste like marshmallows.” Bokuto licks his lips before giving a pleased hum. He rests his hands on her hips, "There's another thing I want for my birthday."

"Hm?"

"But I think it'll have to wait until your 18th birthday."

"HM???"

He just brought her into another kiss, deeper and with more promise in it.

[burningcheese-merchant]

2 QUESTIONS.

2: short stories WHEN!? -nf

3: any more facts about them? id love to hear more about these blorbos

Short stories soon! I have several in mind already, I just want to post a few more Spice/Golden-centric ones before them. We gotta continue along Spice's accidental redemption lol. But there will be stories, I promise

Don't want to spoil everything immediately (that's for when I post the official character sheets lol), so eat these bits of trivia about both of them:

Pepper Jack:

While he's not outright claustrophobic, he does still get kind of anxious/wary in small or enclosed spaces. Rule of thumb for him is that he needs whatever room he's in to have at least one door, or one window that he can fly through (the window is more important tbh. He just... needs some sort of view of the sky). Have that and he's all good

He has a HUGE sweet tooth. He goes nuts over candy and cake and chocolate and all those things. (The best part of Aunt Hollyberry's visits is that she always bring him and his sister sweets from her kingdom. He loves Hollyberrian desserts, they sure know how to make them over there!)

He loves flying with all of his heart. Up in the air is where he feels the most free and at peace. He'll go on long solo flights when he wants to be alone or clear his head, as no one can reach him up in the clouds (besides his mom, but she tries to respect his need for space when it shows itself)

He also likes to sit/perch atop trees and just watch the world go by (he has a few "bird" habits, as you can see lol)

BONUS TO THE ABOVE: A game he likes to play with his father (and his sister, too, after she's born) is flying up and hiding in the treetops while they try to spot him from down on the ground within a certain time frame. No jumping up or climbing the trees or shaking them so he falls out, that's cheating! (Mom doesn't usually play because it's inherently unfair. She can fly just like he can, thus she'd find him instantly)

Matar Paneer:

She is OBSESSED with getting tattoos. She was drawn to her father's almost literally from the moment she opened her eyes and they registered in her mind. Whenever he held her as a baby, she'd try to reach for them and grab at them (and at the Light of Destruction, too. She was, like... hypnotized by the Soul Jam as a baby). Every single time her birthday rolls around, she tells people she wants tattoos just like her papa (the answer is "no, you're too young" for most of her life. She gets Very Big Mad every time). She's been caught drawing and painting on herself multiple times, trying to make her own (Golden scolded her if she got her clothes dirty, but otherwise, she and Spice just thought it was adorable). She WILL get her tattoos someday, there's no doubt about that. (But what they'll look like remains to be seen...)

She loves all of her "extended family" (all of her parents' friends lol), but her #1 favorite person is Mozzarella. She and Auntie Mozzarella are two peas in a pod, partners in crime. The same way Smoked Cheese mentors and indulges Pepper Jack, Mozzarella mentors and indulges Matar Paneer. When she feels like she's struggling, and like she can't turn to her brother or her parents, she goes straight to Mozzarella for comfort and advice

Her katar were gifts from Cilantro Cobra (who is alive and well in my canon don't @ me). They were a labor of love from her and the other cobras, crafted and sharpened with the utmost care and precision. She even went the extra mile and had symbols carved into them: Golden Cheese Kingdom hieroglyphs in one, Wild Spice symbols and patterns in the other. They are some of Paneer's most prized possessions

She's very particular and fussy about her hair, and would prefer that nobody touches it lol. Her dad is the only one with 100% free reign, as they have literally the exact same hair, color and texture and everything; the only difference is hers is somewhat shorter and she wears it in a low ponytail. She thinks he's the only one who "understands" her hair lol.

BONUS TO ABOVE: She and Spice have a cute little daddy/daughter bonding thing where they'll brush each other's hair. He does hers first, then he lets her do his next. He has to sit on the floor and hunch over/bow his head so she can reach properly because she's so much smaller than him, but he doesn't mind. She babbles at him about random things while she works and tries extra hard to do a good job, and it just melts his manly man heart lol

[strawberriesinbloom]

Cake Heist

MC/Mammon

Summary: Mammon tries to steal a cake.

Word Count: 1682

This is a tickle fic btw

~🍓~

Mammon tiptoed across the House of Lamentation, careful to avoid any creaky floorboards and the like. He didn't want to wake any of his brothers from their slumber. He made a beeline toward the kitchen, where he knew his prize was being kept: a bloodberry cake.

Leviathan had brought it home this morning, blubbering about how it was an exact replica of some sort of dessert featured in this manga he liked and that he wanted to eat it with you tomorrow during some sort of anniversary of its release. Honestly, it went through one ear and out the other, but Mammon did remember how Leviathan specifically called him and Beelzebub out. He made both of them promise not to eat the cake or else he'd unleash Lotan on them.

While Mammon would normally be more than happy to honor his baby brother's request, that cake looked really good, so…yeah. One itty, bitty taste wouldn't hurt, right? Leviathan would barely notice one missing slice, right? Right?

Mammon was going to eat that cake no matter what. 

He poked his head through the doorframe of the kitchen, and his blood ran cold when he saw you placing a bowl into the microwave. You pressed a few buttons until a low whirring sound filled the quiet.

Mammon wasn't sure how you noticed his presence, but, before he knew it, you were staying directly at him. You grinned, and his heart raced. 

He was about to make a hasty (but dignified) retreat when you said, "Hey, there, Mammon. Up for a midnight snack?" Your voice sounded hoarse and a little deeper than usual. You must have just woken up, unlike Mammon, who had been biding his time in his room until the perfect time to enact his heist. 

Although you had caught him red-handed, it wasn't like you knew he was going to steal Leviathan's cake. All Mammon needed to do was grab a plate, take a slice of cake from the fridge, and make a mad dash back toward his room. He could still win this. Ignoring his trembling hands (for some inexplicable reason, they always did that when he was near you), he waltzed into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I woke up and came here lookin' for a bite to eat," Mammon responded as nonchalantly as he could. He stood in front of a cupboard filled with dishes that was right next to where you were.

You pulled out your D.D.D. "Same here," you said, leaning against the counter, "I got this random craving for soup in the middle of the night." You jerked your head toward the microwave before starting to mindlessly scroll through Fab Snap. 

The conversation was over, but he couldn't help but look at you for a second longer in hopes that you'd continue talking. When it was clear just how engrossed you were in your device, he shook his head before turning toward his main objective.

Mammon reached up to open the cupboard only to screech when something poked his side. He flinched, shooting his hand down to cover where you had certainly touched him. 

He spun his head toward you, intent on giving you a piece of his mind. He faltered when he saw you still glued to your D.D.D. "What…what was that?" Mammon swallowed thickly. 

You absentmindedly shrugged. The microwave beeped, but you turned it off without looking up for a moment. Whatever video you were watching must have been pretty intriguing to keep you like this.

But…if you hadn't poked him, who did? Mammon searched warily around the kitchen. Nothing seemed to be amiss, at least, nothing at first glance.

Hesitantly, Mammon returned his attention to the cupboard. He opened it up, revealing the plates…that were all on the top shelf. He growled and stood on his tiptoes. His shirt slipped out of his belt, which he wouldn't have noticed if something hadn't spidered along his bare stomach.

It happened too quickly for Mammon to suppress the embarrassingly high-pitched giggle that tumbled out of him. He jumped back, slightly curling up to hide his torso from anything trying to touch him. 

Once again, you were glued to your screen, but you weren't completely tuned out to the world. "Nice squeal," you said.

"Somethin' keeps touchin' me!" Mammon shouted. His cheeks were beginning to burn. 

You typed something into your D.D.D. "Really…? Well…that…" You scrunched up your nose for a moment. "...is interesting."

Gah, you were too invested in whatever you were doing to care about him: the Great Mammon. Admittedly, this did sting a little.

Okay, it stung a lot, but, at least he would have his cake. Mammon stepped back up to the cupboard, casting a couple more skeptical glimpses your way. You didn't look up from your D.D.D. at all, and Mammon let out a quiet sigh. He was being way too paranoid. 

He raised his hand and shot it back down when your arm moved out of the corner of his eye. He pressed his limbs against his torso, but you were just scratching your cheek. You put your hand back down, and he relaxed, sending you a sheepish smile that you didn't even get to see. 

Outstretching his hand to reach the plates, Mammon managed to rest his hand on the edge of the top shelf. There was a single plate within reach, and he was so close to touching it. He was only able to poke the porcelain dish until something started touching his armpit.

He screamed and clamped his arm down, but it was too late. Mammon shook uselessly for a second to try to stop himself from laughing. He pressed his lips together but was too ticklish for that to last any more than three seconds. 

"Stahahahap!" Mammon suddenly shrieked. His entire body grew unbearably hot. He had no idea he could make that sort of sound. Though, out of everyone who could have heard him, Mammon was glad that it was you. 

The sensations were soon getting to be too much for him to handle. Mammon grabbed the hand that was so intent on tickling his underarm and pried it off of him. He took in a few sharp and heavy breaths before squeezing the wrist of his assailant. 

You pull your hand out of his grasp. "Wow, breathless already? I had no idea you were that ticklish."

Mammon pouted, the tips of his ears heating up. He crossed his arms and chose to stare at the counter. "Ya were doin' that on purpose!" He couldn't believe you were only pretending to be distracted by your D.D.D.

"Duh."

You slipped your D.D.D. back into your pocket, a smug smirk plastered on your face. Wiggling your fingers, you stepped closer to him. That dangerous grin only grew as you came closer and closer.

Against his will, a small smile of his own broke through his expression, except it was more giddy. Mammon bounced around from foot to foot until you were face-to-face with him. An adrenaline rush coursed through him, but instead of following his fight-or-flight instincts, he stilled. Mammon had ample time to sprint out of there, but he decided to stay rooted in place.

You took note of this with a cocky eyebrow raise. "Don't look too excited, now," you teased before pouncing on him.

Your fingers dug into the soft flesh of his stomach. Mammon doubled over and staggered back, but made no effort to get away. "Hehehey!" He wiggled in place as your arms wrapped around him. 

"You know, it's not exactly a punishment if you're enjoying it." You prodded at the area just below his ribs. It made Mammon jump and squeak. 

He shook his head, desperately trying to ignore how strange you were making him feel. "Whahahat punihishment?" he managed to scream out before falling back into a cascade of laughter.

You shook your head. "For trying to eat Levi's cake. He was saving that."

"H–how did ya knohow–? Mammon interrupted himself with a loud snort when you suddenly squeezed the soft part above his hips. "Ehehehe! Ehehe!" It was humiliating how squeaky his giggles were.

"You're not in your pajamas, so it's pretty obvious you didn't wake up for a midnight snack.” You drilled your fingers into Mammon’s sides, which made him thrash about in your arms. “You were looking for something in particular, and what could it be if not Levi's cake?"

Dammit! 

The pads of your fingers scribbled rapidly along his waist, concentrating on his most sensitive spots. "D'AHAHAHA–" It tickled so badly that Mammon couldn't get a word in.

Mammon broke out of your grip and stumbled away from you. His chest heaved as he blinked away the tiny warm tears that pricked the corners of his eyes. The ghost of your wandering fingers still remained, sending tingles all across his stomach. He let out a few residual chuckles.

You placed your hands on your hips. "Are you still going to try to take his cake?"

He puckered his lips, trying to weigh the pros and cons. If Mammon did attempt to steal the cake again, then you'd just resume tickling him. But, if he gave up now, then that meant he wouldn't get a chance to even taste that cake. What a tricky situation... 

"Mammonnnn?" 

Nevermind! The choice was actually really obvious!

He kicked the ground. "Okay, okay, fine! I won't try to steal Levi's crummy cake again. 

The way your face brightened up made Mammon's head spin. "Good! Now, go to bed." You went back to the microwave and pressed a couple more buttons to reheat your soup. He wasn't sure why, but Mammon lingered in the kitchen. You rolled your eyes playfully. "Unless you want me to tickle you again?"

Mammon perked up but played it off as a flinch. He shook his head rapidly. "I-I'm fine!" he squeaked as darted out of the kitchen, leaving your laughing figure behind. Mammon tried not to think about the excitement that had bubbled in his chest.

[labselkie]

pokémon au drabble….. i’ve been having some thoughts

around 1900 words!

An Eelektross sinks its head back into the murky water of the Kalosian sewer. It wasn’t the best place to swim, but it was somewhere, and its slick green skin blended in perfectly with the algae.

It saw its target, and it had to go back and report.

Lucielle Lakes was staring dead straight at her partner Dewott. It stands between her legs, looking right up at her as she sits on the Lumiose street bench. The tree above them casts the already teal otter into a more greenish shade, and it blinks a few times, all before a smile spreads on its snout.

Lucy had blinked first, she lost the game. She a back with her own smile, beginning to laugh. “I’m sorry, buddy!” She chuckled, before helping it hop up to her side.

Dewott grabs onto the shoulder of her sweater vest, its little claws digging into the soft, flower patterned yarn. She had turned her head to rummage through her messenger bag, before pulling out what looked like a small lunch box.

She opened it, and there was Dewott’s prize! Next to a slew of berries were a few Poké Puffs, two matcha and one mocha. The chocolate one was decorated with cream and sprinkles, and Dewott almost immediately grabbed at it.

“Woah! Hey- Slow down!” Lucielle scolds, putting her hand in front of his paws. Her partner scowls, before flexing its claws as she slowly and purposely takes the puff out slowly.

The moment she placed it in his outstretched paws, the dessert was gone in seconds. She smiled, why wouldn’t she? Living in Lumiose city had its cons, but the atmosphere was far from one of those. People of all sorts were walking by, some of their Pokémon tagging along. Colorful buildings towered over the streets, bustling shops lining the floors. The sky was clear, the breeze was cool, everything was perfect.

But there was so, so much more going on. Team Flare failed their mission, Lysandre went missing, they never even properly established themselves. All due to another company rising, Alchemax. They tried to keep their name in good faith, no ideals for wiping out the world, nor irreversible climate change. Just looking into harnessing the natural powers of Pokémon, for the “betterment of humanity,” and… Something else. Something only the Kingpin and a few higher admins knew the full extent of.

An older woman stands less than a block away, her back against a tree that stands as a gateway to one of many labyrinthine alleyways. She stands out among most people, big curly brown hair tied up into a bun, a paisley patterned scarf over a two toned dress, all tied together with a crisp white lab coat. It billows behind her, its vent cut and decorated with a green satin lining. She steps forward, slithering between pedestrians in silence.

Lucielle had perked up, and turned her head when she saw the woman approach. She gave a smile, just thinking the scientist would walk past, even when Dewott flattened its ears in frustration. But she seems a bit worried when the other slows.

“Do I know you?” The older woman says mid-stride, one of her gloved hands tracing the top of the bench.

Lucy just blinked a few times and turned where she sat, as if it took her a second to process an answer. “Me? I’m not sure how anyone could recognize me,” She stammers. “I mean, I was in one of those videos with Sycamore,”

The scientist practically glares down at Lucy, one of her brows rising as her lips curl. “That’s it! Thaaat’s it,” She says, drumming her fingers on the bench before looking down to Dewott instead. The otter’s snout had shifted into a snarl, and Lucielle follows Olivia’s gaze to it. “Lucy, right?”

“Oh! Don’t mind him,” She says quickly, wrapping her arms around him as if he were just a large plush toy. “But yes, yes that’s me! Wait, you were at the lab too, right?”

“Doctor Olivia Octavius, and yes,” She answers, extending a hand to shake. Lucy takes it quickly, a sweet smile on her face.

“A doctor? It’s such a pleasure to meet you! I really wanted to say something to you last weekend, you spoke to the professor, right? Did he give me a good name?”

Olivia has to hold back a small chuckle, and her steely gaze softens as they shake hands. “Come on, the pleasure is all mine. You should’ve heard his praise. For a researcher like myself, it’s always wonderful to see an up and coming graduate.”

Olivia lets go first, and while Lucy seems reluctant, she does as well. Her eyes are locked on the other woman, her sharp features, those striking eyes framed by a large pair of glasses. She has to snap herself out of it once Olivia speaks again.

“Have you been enjoying your research? And how have you been getting by?”

Clearly, the question shocked Lucy, coming from a near stranger.. But Olivia was close to Sycamore, it wasn’t too out of the blue. “Oh! Well, I’ve got a position at a boutique on my street, and, genuinely,” She leans back a bit, “And my research? Wow, just, I could never be happier in a position. There’s something so reassuring seeing just how connected these little guys are to nature, like us connecting to them can bring us closer to, well, everything.”

The doctor nods a few times, before rounding the bench. Her gaze was soft, she’d never seen someone else with such a bright view of the world, and as Lucy pats the Dewott, she can’t help but smile. Lucielle’s partner Pokémon does not seem to appreciate the movement, as the claws of one paw tap the pale pink scallop at his hip. She frowns faintly, and pulls the little guy over her lap and to the other side.

Olivia nods down to the bench, a silent gesture of “May I?” And just as anyone would expect, Lucielle nods quickly and moves her bag. The doctor hums when she flattens her dress to sit, and she smiles at Lucy when she fixes the back of her lab coat.

She opens her mouth to speak, before her eyes widen a little, and she looks away to Prism Tower. If she wanted to do her job, to be “evil”, now was the time. As it grew, Alchemax would need more associates, and as the head scientist, Olivia felt that it was her responsibility. Yet this was the first time she ever felt conflicted. She drapes her arm over the back of the bench, her lips pursing as she thinks. Should she just go out and say it? Invite the lady to the lab, try to employ her right there? But it was odd, she wasn’t used to liking someone… Especially not this quickly, she didn’t want to be horribly blunt about her motives.

She shakes her head, almost unnoticeably, but the faint movement causes Lucy to look back and notice a few strands of violet in that bundle of hair. She crosses her legs and looks over to Lucy.

After a tense moment, Lucielle is the one to talk, her eyes on Dewott, who had been snuggling up into her arm. “Well… How’s your work?”

Olivia’s eyes widen, she was usually the interrogator. She sits up and kicks her boot a little. “It’s good, it’s all good. Not sure why you’d be wondering though.”

Lucielle shrugs. “It’s a neat place, once I get my coastal Pokédex more fleshed out, I’d like to look into working there.”

“Coastal? Why not central first? Are you a beach girl?” Olivia turns to face Lucy more, barely leaning closer to rest under the shade of the tree. She didn’t choose to pry into Lucy’s future, there was a genuine sense of wonder in her voice.

“You can say that, the first Pokémon I ever met was a Corsola… The sweetest little staghorn morph, I think I was five? Not sure, but since then I adored water types.”

Olivia nodded along, nonchalantly fiddling with her gloves. “That’s actually very nice.” She says quietly, before turning to Dewott. “And this darling? How in the world did you come across a shiny?”

Dewott perked up when he heard his name, and Olivia smiled when she saw the otter peek his head over Lucielle’s shoulder. “This little buddy? His egg was a gift from my grandparents, they helped run the daycare down by Camphrier. The original owner moved to Paldea, left a few eggs and a few hundred dollars, guess they didn’t know what was in them.”

As Lucy spoke, her partner sniffed at the air, at the faint metallic smell around Olivia. He steps forward, placing his little paws on one of Lucy’s thighs, leaning closer to the doctor like a curious kitten. Olivia reaches out her hand, barely extending a finger for the Pokémon to sniff it. Lucy laughs a little, and her smile brightens when Dewott actually climbs over her lap to get closer.

“I’m impressed you recognized him! Was it the shells?” Lucy chimes.

“Not really, just the fur,” Olivia answers calmly, before gently stroking the otter’s furry cheek. “I have a shiny partner of my own, it’s beautiful how different each individual can be.”

“You do?! How’d you find them?”

Olivia laughs along, it had been a bit since she actually talked to anyone. “I was around your age, a bit younger, but just out of general college. The lab I interned at was testing the potential of electric types as a power source, and it just so happened that one of them was just a little bit darker than the rest.”

Thankfully, Dewott was warming up to his new friend, and Lucielle tapped her leg on the pavement as she watched the two. She didn’t have anywhere to be that morning, and had no idea where the time went. Not that she was complaining.

“It’s so interesting, isn’t it?” Lucy says after a few seconds of quietly observing.

“I know I’m supposed to ask, so I’ll give you this.. What’s interesting?” Olivia snickers, her eyes narrowing a little.

“How different everyone is, everything. And we all fit in even if we think we don’t.”

The doctor blinks a few times, wiping that smug look off her face. The last thing she expected to hear was this girl spit out some philosophical nonsense, but she nodded, and played along. “And just how do we fit in?”

“We fit together, you helped me have something to do this morning, you gave Dewott those ear scratches he’d been begging for.” The otter makes a small chittering sound as Olivia shifts. “You sounded interested in me, and this was our chance to meet. I’m just glad we took it.”

The doctor brought her hand back, causing Dewott to open his eyes and sit back down on the bench, his tail swishing. “Huh…” She leans her head back, looking into the stark blue sky as her hair cascaded over her back. Although she couldn’t truly forget, her mind was off work for the first time in weeks. “That’s sweet, Lucy. You’re sweet.”

They both smiled, and when Olivia straightened back up, Lucielle responded. “Says you!”

[mrfartpowered]

okay ik I haven’t posted much abt lize’s and my post-canon timeline but I wanna talk abt how the Weinerham Family (weinerhamily) celebrates the 4th of July!!! here’s what u need to know

Randy & Howard are gay married and have a set of twins, June & B (seen on @cunningweiner). Also their legal last name is Weinerham

Mort & Viceroy are gay dating. Hannibal and Marci are happily married as well. the four of them have some sort of polycule thing going on. No they can’t explain it <3 and neither can i

Debbie & Theresa are gay married and family friends of the Weinerhams/the Evil Polycule. they have a son, Dewey, who is a couple years younger than the twins

Heidi is gay dating Morgan and they are #childfree

Bash fucks off to Europe soon after graduating high school and Marci lets him “spread his wings” (he does not attend the family gathering)

they are a very weird, very big, oddly happy family

AND NOW!!! SILLY HOLIDAY ACTIVITIES BELOW THE CUT

Every summer the Weinerman clan & company spend a week at a McFist lake house out at Lake Papoose. The 4th of July usually falls in the middle or the end of these trips, and it’s a huge Thing™️ every time.

When the tradition began, Mort and Viceroy had recently started dating, and Bash was still obligated to attend family vacations. Heidi/Morgan and Theresa/Debbie would not join the group for a couple more years. Randy and Howard were together, but not yet married and not yet fathers. The first 4th of July on the lake, the two of them snuck away from the McFists + Mort with a handful of fireworks, stolen from Viceroy’s stash. They only meant to fuck around with some sparklers, maybe a couple fountains. But SURPRISE! Bash crashes the moment with a bigass Roman candle. Randy and Howard try to shoo him away and it turns into an argument. Mid-scuffle, the Roman candle goes off. A grassfire starts. No one gets hurt, but it’s safe to say everyone is a little peeved for the rest of the trip. Bash only attends one more lake vacation after that before fucking off to Europe.

In the “present day” — meaning, all the kids are born, all the couples are married, the tradition is firmly established — everyone gets along quite well, sans-Bash. Randy and Hannibal kinda grate on each other, even though neither of them can quite put a finger on why the other is so irritating, but their love for the collective family outweighs the annoyance. Heidi and Morgan make incredible cocktails for the adults. Theresa always makes the cutest, tastiest America-themed snacks and desserts. Viceroy and Marci chat for hours on the porch. Debbie and Howard gossip and watch bad Hallmark movies for fun. Dewey, June, and B always get into some shenanigan or other. It’s all quite domestic and fun. In this timeline they really are a weird, happy, tight-knit family. I could go on and on about how everybody interacts with each other but then this post would never ever end

Even bigger than the fireworks, though, is the Annual Weinerman-McFist-Weinerham-Fowler-Kang Paddleboard Tournament on the Water!

Okay, yeah, it’s a mouthful, but here’s the gist of it: on the lake directly behind the McFist lake house, a ways from the shore, two paddle boards are anchored, nearby one another, but far enough apart that they won’t crash. Anyone wanting to participate, whether child or adult, is randomly paired against someone else, forming a tournament bracket. Each pair swims out to the boards, armed with one of those foam jousting sticks. Then. They Fight. In order to move up in the bracket, you must knock your opponent completely into the water.

Why is it such a big deal for the Weinerhamily? Because everyone single one of them is a competitive asshole! Except for Marci and Viceroy, who referee the event. And in order to participate, you must bring something to contribute to the Victory Pile, which is a pile of the brucest prizes, all of which belong to the ultimate winner. And everyone always goes buck-fucking-WILD with the Victory Pile. Fine wines, Disneyworld tickets, $100 gift cards, gaming consoles have all been seen in the Pile.

For a while, the victor changed year to year…until Debbie’s first win. After which, she becomes undefeated. But this doesn’t deter anybody, no — they get MORE competitive trying to take her out. Nobody understands how she’s so good at it. They just know she packs a LOT of force into such a tiny body.

Hannibal’s usually out in the first round (unless he’s paired against a child), at which point he pouts for a while until he remembers that he can spend the rest of the Tournament heckling whoever took him out.

Howard is a force to be reckoned with — low center of gravity makes him hard to knock over! — and so is his girl, June, by sheer force of will. Morgan is also a powerful foe, while Heidi is quite average. Randy has quick reflexives, but is fairly easy to knock over once he runs out of energy to dodge. B usually ends up laughing too hard to actually fight, and Dewey is the youngest, so everyone knows he doesn’t stand a chance. Theresa plays quite casually once her wife starts winning the Victory Pile every year.

that’s really all I wanted to say abt this but PLS feel free to ask me or Lize abt this timeline/the Weinerhamily Lake Holiday in my asks or the replies of this post !!!!!!! happy America day or whatever

[signmyheart]

Pairings: Sanji x Y/n

summary: i forgot to do tiuhs

Warnings: Sexual assault, drug addiction. (Not in this chapter?)

Note: Some parts are made up bc I'm not that far into op (I'm like halfway)

The shuffling on your vanity caused small noises to slip under your door. The banter of pirates below covered up the small sounds. Quickly you paced back and forth gathering your most prized possessions. Tonight was it, you'd leave for good. You'd prove that you didn't need him. The slippery satin robe hung off your arm loosely exposing your bare shoulder. You grabbed the large dufflebag packing the berri you'd shoved away from him in pockets and lockers. The few he hadn't gotten a hold of was barely enough to take a ship out of your shithole. If it didn't suffice you'd force yourself onto men to escape. Anything to leave.

"Y/n sweetheart!" There was the sound of those familiar stocky steps. For a moment you froze scrambling to shove your bag under the light. You quickly staged your scene grabbing a makeup brush, and applying imaginary makeup your hair in disarray. The door flew open almost instinctively you flinched.

"There's my favourite girl…" His voice was low and poisonous. You look to the side seeing his flurry of pink fluff. You silently took a breath.

"Yes, Doffy?" You smiled sweetly at him. He smirked and took off his glasses. His head lowered down to your level.

"Get undressed." He said coldly just like he did everyday. You wanted to speak up, resist his hands, rip away from this hell. But you didn't, you couldn't. And so you let it happen, just like you did every day.

You faced the wall wrapped in your cold pink satin sheets. As Doflamingo dressed on the other end of the bed. You hid a purple mark on your wrist.

I am disgusting you thought pushing your legs together. Maybe if you shut your eyes together hard enough you could disappear into the empty shadows. The door to your dressing room slammed shut, and again you flinched. Tomorrow you'd work up the courage to leave, build your strength up enough to say no. Maybe this was okay, he had never hurt you.

"Maybe I'm ungrateful…" You whispered to yourself until you fell into the grip of sleep.

The next day had brought you to a grocery store. The best in your opinion, it swayed to the rhythm of the ocean waves. It was a small little corner store but the mangoes were the sweetest you've ever had. Colourful glass is aligned along the shelves as decoration. All a different type of blue, the produce smelled fresh and plants hung from the ceiling. Someone snatched it up before you were on your way to pick the ripest mango buried under dozens of other mangoes. You frowned up at a blonde man, he pressed a cigarette between his lips.

"Sorry m'lady, I'm assuming this is what you were reaching for." He apologized bowing politely offering the mango up to you.

"Yes, you must be some sort of cook to spot a delicious fruit like that." You chuckled softly.

"Right on the money beautiful" He smiled at you. It was a genuine smile. One you hadn't seen in months.

"How'd someone as handsome as yourself end up here." You returned a compliment to him. He halted his hunt for another mango and his cigarette nearly tumbled out of his mouth.

"Like you said, I'm a cook searching for my next project." He swallowed plucking a bunch of mangos from the pile. You grinned.

"And what would that be?" You asked wanting to talk a bit longer. Something about him attracted him to you.

"A dessert from my home town." He said kindly humming a tune to himself.

"Sounds delicious." You said softly, watching him approach a small bouquet of carnations from the assortment he picked out a pink one and handed it to you graciously,

"My poor heart aches," you muttered quietly. He smirked.

"Impressive, not many people know the language of flowers." He handed a couple coins to the cashier. You trailed behind him offering up your money as well. He shook his head and pushed your money away paying for you as well. Your eyes sparkled with admiration. No man had ever treated you in such a way. Out on the street you dreaded departing from this new stranger. You didn't even ask him for his name.

"What-"

"Would-"

You both said at the same time and you both let out a laugh.

"Please stranger, join me for lunch my treat." He offered you his arm. Without hesitation, you grabbed him gently. On your walk, he explained that he was a pirate. His role was to cook which explained the grocery shopping. In the middle of his storytelling, you suddenly remembered.

"He'd wake up at some ungodly hour and I'd catch him eating our food-"

"Y/n," He looked down at you. Your face turned a tint of pink at your sudden outburst.

"M-my name. . . is y/n" You said shyly.

"Beautiful name, I'm Sanji" He grabbed your hand, placing a delicate kiss on it. You were too infatuated to remember the large purple mark on your wrists.

"What's this…" He frowned trailing his calloused fingers over the mark. It was obvious what it was, it was a mark of your biggest humiliation. Alas, you couldn't help the blatant lie that trickled out of your mouth.

"I got my hand caught in the door… I'm pretty clumsy" You laughed knocking on your head. You pulled your sleeve back down and tucked yourself behind his arm again. You continued to pull him forward which is why you didn't see his eyes flicker with rage.

...

"Who's this Sanji and why is she on my ship?" A curious black-haired boy tilted his head at you from his crisis cross position.

"She's... a friend, her name is y/n." He hesitated initially, not knowing what you were to him, but you smiled at his words.

The boy, you assumed was the captain Sanji told you about.

"Ignore our idiot captain, I'm Nami it's a pleasure to have you on board." One glance at Nami's cheeky grin and you were in awe she was gorgeous.

"Thank you, you're too kind Nami." You couldn't help but blush at her she made you feel nervous..

"Not very often Sanji brings such a pretty lady like yourself on board." A big man with blue hair said and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Hey! Watch it Franky," Sanji growled. Sanji turned over and held his hand out to you.

"Come into the kitchen with me." His hand was so soothing against your own. He led you through the ship past the curious rooms and into his kitchen. It seemed huge but small at the same time, its simple furniture made you feel at home. Sanji brought you to a counter and motioned for you to take a seat. Again a kindness you were gifted rarely. Immediately as he stepped into the kitchen you felt a change in him. He seemed much more relaxed as if he could finally be at ease in the safety of his little space.

"How would you like some mango pancake?" He grinned pulling his apron over his head and down onto his lean figure. He inched closer to you while rolling up his sleeves. You were flustered at how handsome he looked while doing something so simple.

"That's fine" You rested your hand against your palm. You watched as he collected all the items he needed to make the dessert. He swiftly peeled back the skin of the mango, mixed and combined different things together. You were fascinated by his quick and fast movements it was as if he were dancing. He switched from one position to another, working at the stove and then the countertop. You swore this is something you could never get tired of. Before you knew it he was finishing up and plating the delicate food.

"Please tell me what you think." He beamed settling against his hand to watch you try his delicacy.

"With pleasure." You replied excitedly reaching for your fork. When you stuck the utensil in the dessert it was almost as if it melted into it due to the plush consistency. Your eyes widened slightly.

"Oh my god soo good!" You groaned melting away with the flavours on your tongue.

"Good, I'm glad you liked it y/n." There was his smile again, it was so real you felt like you didn't deserve it.

"Thank you for your kindness Sanji. I don't think I'll ever forget you." You smiled sadly looking away. The sun was setting and you knew it was time for you to return to your miserable lifestyle.

Bruh idk what happened... I started this a while ago and forgot where I was going with it. dunno if I should continue I should really start planning these out... T,T

[theaawalker]

Sparks & Sprinkles [Kim P. + Ramona F.]

Pairing: Kim Pines + Ramona Flowers (fluff) Song Inspo: SugarCrash! by ElyOtto Word Count: 1,126 Summary: Kim Pine and Ramona Flowers have a girl's day out: defeating ninjas, eating frozen yogurt, and not talking about Scott Pilgrim. Warnings: violence, use of "slut", mentions of cigarettes Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

Sometimes Kim Pine wonders why she even gets out of bed in the morning. She hates her roommate, Hollie (cheating slut), she has the lamest job in the world (yes,sir, we keep those sorts of DVDs in the back, behind the Transformers display), and the one decent thing in her world, playing drums in the band (We are Sex-Bomb-omb!) has ground to an amazing halt because they are "recording."

She just wants to spend a little time with her best friend's surprisingly cool ex-girlfriend Ramona Flowers (soon-to-be-not-ex if he can pull up his pants and woman up) before they have to meet up with Scott later. A day at the yogurt shop sounded just right. Just Kim & Ramona.

Of course, a gang of ninjas wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

Really, jeez, she thinks as she twirls a drumstick around her finger and pokes one of the ninjas in the eye (ZING!), while punching another with a gloved fist (THUNK!) -- is it too much to wish for a bonus level every once in a while, instead of always having to fight toward the big boss at the end?

Ramona obviously feels the same way. Her hair flies back as she scissor-kicks her opponent with a booted foot.

(KPOW!)

"All!" She spins and slices at another in the throat.

(HURK!)

"I!" She cartwheels over to snag a tray.

(WHIRL!)

"Want!" She smacks a girl ninja full-face.

(SLAM!)

"Is!" The girl stumbles back to crash into one of the red plastic tables.

(CRUNCH!)

"A frozen yogurt!"

Kim elbows the last one in the mouth, and he crumples. The ninjas flash like seizure-inducing strobe lights and then disappear. A shower of prize coins hits the table where they left their winter coats. There is a smattering of applause from the other patrons, and then they all go back to their desserts.

Just another day in Kim Pine's Annoying Little Life.

Ramona swipes a hand across her sweaty brow and nonchalantly brushes herself off. Then she walks over to their table and picks up one of the glittering coins. "You want this?" she asks Kim. "I just got paid, so..."

"Yeah, okay." Kim slides the coins off into her hand and then into her pocket. (KACHING! Kim Pine gets $15.79 and 10 exp. points!) No need to go advertising it, but she could use a little extra. Kim jerks her head toward the register. "I'll go get the yogurts. What do you want?"

"They got anything tequila-flavored?" Ramona drawls.

Kim barks a laugh. "You should put in a comment card."

"Then whatever. You choose for me."

"Vanilla, no toppings," Kim says, deadpan. "Don't want the gummy bears to clash with your hair."

Ramona smiles, twirling one pink-dyed lock between her fingers. She gets Kim's sense of humor, unlike Hollie (two-faced slut). "Nice." Ramona says, feigning a lack of sarcasm. "And so thoughtful."

Matching Ramona's sincerity with a bright little nod, Kim slides up to the counter. "One small white chocolate with chocolate chips, and one small vanilla..." She steals a glance at Ramona, who is staring blankly out the yogurt shop window. It's funny. Even with her bright pink hair, Ramona almost seems to fade into the crowd with some unspoken sadness. "...with strawberries."

"Got it." The guy at the register types in the order and then looks pointedly over at the overturned tables to the left.

"What." She gives him a glare. No one picks up at No-Account Video when there's a brawl in the family section except her.

He backs down and shrugs. "Two yogurts, coming right up."

Kim turns her back and doesn't bother to watch him make them. She plays it cool, waiting until he's got the little cup under the noisy yogurt-spewing machine to say, "And don't even think of spitting in them." She doesn't even ruin the effect by turning around again to catch his bewildered, guilty look.

Instead, she watches Ramona.

She's mysterious (Kim likes that), cool under pressure (Kim would give her prize Zildjian to be as cool as Ramona) and fun. Kim doesn't know if it's just the way New Yorkers act, but Kim really enjoys her touch of American badassness in this way-too-Canadian city.

When the yogurts are done, she brings them to the table and sits. Ramona takes her spoon without comment on the strawberries, and digs in, still lost in her own thoughts.

Kim wants to get Ramona out of this sudden funk, but she can't come up with a decent topic of conversation. "Um..." she starts, wincing inwardly. "You... make any interesting deliveries lately?" Then she winces outwardly.

"Huh?" Ramona says, coming out of her daze. "Interesting deliveries? Oh... no, nothing really."

"Still, it's gotta be more interesting than working in a video store." Kim exaggerates a yawn, her plastic spoon hanging from her mouth.

"All right..." Ramona leans forward. "Last month... I almost lit one of my packages on fire with a cigarette."

Kim almost chokes on her spoon. "HAHAHA! How?"

"Guess I shouldn't try to make deliveries the morning after one of Julie's stupid theme parties." She takes another bite of her yogurt. "Too hungover to do two things at once."

"Oh, man, I wish I'd been there to see it...!"

As she's laughing, she sees another freakin' ninja sneak in the side door out of sight of Ramona. Kim prepares to jump up and take him down, but Ramona's hand slips quietly into her purse, and withdraws her giant mallet from the subspace pocket.

With a whirling leap, she smashes the mallet down (THOOM!), just missing the ninja. He jumps over the top of the weapon, sailing above their heads. Kim tries to tackle him to the floor, but Ramona's mallet doubles back and hits the ninja's spine with a satisfying CRACK! He explodes into multi-colored coruscating fireworks.

(LEVEL COMPLETED, 500 bonus points!)

Ramona calmly stuffs the mallet back in her purse. "I almost didn't get that one."

"C'mon," Kim says, completely serious. "You're Ramona Flowers."

The corner of Ramona's mouth turns up. "Guess so."

"Hey, you wanna get some coffee?" Kim asks, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Sure," Ramona says, blowing at a curling strand of pink in her face. "I think we've reached our ninja quotient for the day."

They push their way out of the yogurt shop into the biting winter wind. Kim smiles as the cold starts to numb her ears. Maybe Scott will forget all about this stupid meeting she's secretly bringing Ramona to (he doesn't deserve Ramona, anyway).

She wouldn't mind at all.

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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[jellyluchi]

What about a reader who fawns over her? Like would do anything for her, but reader is usually this super tough and strong person but whenever they're around Foccacia it's a super sweet reader?

I didn't give gender much thought

A/N: This is very adorable ! 🥺🩷I feel like she'd love a reader like that, someone who has a different side to them! I can make reader gender neutral for sure

Focaccia x Reader with a tough personality and sweeter side

— warnings: none — genre: fluff

The first time you meet Focaccia she is every bit of the reserved and unassuming woman standing in the corner of the room trying to avoid eye contact. Still, she is polite and friendly enough that it makes you interested in seeing what lies beneath her quiet reservation.

As you spend more time in her presence, you start to notice that perhaps the tough exterior of your personality is what intimidates her. She would be laughing with another person, say he best friend Pesci, but all joy vanishes from her face when you're around. As if you've sucked in whatever fun she was having.

It's only natural that as a response, you tend to become sweeter to her, making her feel comfortable. And you are so glad you did, because the sooner she sees how gentle and sweet you can be it lures her out of her shyness.

As your disposition towards her changes, you can see her smile more often, relax around you, tease you and joke with you in a way she hadn't before. Now she wouldn't put a stop to her joy in your presence and it makes you want to nearly do anything for her just to see the little hearts on her cheeks get red with her skin.

You realize however, Focaccia is he oblivious sort of person. She has no clue that you are sweet only to her, that you would do anything for her sake and no others. Pesci and the others do notice the change nearly immediately.

Sometimes the others call you out, mentioning maybe that you wouldn't get them a present the way you give Focaccia little gifts here and there or that you're not as much comfortable joking with the rest of them as you do her.

Only after hearing another person's perspective does Focaccia believe you have changed somewhat for her. And it completely shocks her to the core. If you are embarrassed from this revelation she would even think it's cute!

With so much affection toward her, it would help her open to you, she would admit "It was rather nerve wracking to be in your presence at first," given she is simply the anxious type. But seeing the way you fawn over her makes Focaccia blush deeply.

At first she would only say "thank you," whenever you're clearly going above and beyond for her. But eventually she is giving you little cheek kisses, hugs, and doing favors for you in return.

"I have baked these for you," she says one day holding some sort of dessert or bread. "You're always kind to me... and I thought I should return the sentiment." She's always smiling in your presence now and to your joy, more affectionate with you than anyone else.

Depending on if you realize or not that Focaccia has grown feelings for you, you could ask her for a date and if it has been long enough that she feels very comfortable she will say yes! And she will try to return every act of sweetness from you as she can even in your relationship.

"Can I kiss you?" You ask on the date with her, and it makes the little hearts go pink the way you'd expect from a question like this. Of course you are all softness for her. "Yes," she says quietly and she would wait for you to claim your prize from her mouth.

[originemesis]

@bored2deathiswear xxx

It's becoming ever clear to the incarcerated former- (no, not former...he's still got it) glory of heaven (a self appointed title, surely) that his purpose here was not just to demoralize his Exorcists with the absence of their great leader's Jack Black battle screams. Not even to keep him contained in this bothersome bunker with the intent of showing that hell could extend mercy to one of heaven's most doggishly devote as it was vulgar time pieces. No- any hint of that being true had vanished with the sneering claims that no one would find him hidden away here and that he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Maybe not ever.

The claim of mercy definitely fortified itself as false with the sudden burst of brutality in the removal of his wings. And even now- the serpent settles back on the bed the man had failed to destroy against a snap of fingers that could reset damages that took him hours to inflict- in mere seconds just to smugly watch him finally cave to baited hunger.

The mercy cover was a joke- its punchline never shared between them because deep down, they both already knew it unspeakable. Fucker was just doing what he'd always done from the beginning of time- humiliating humanity. And since the only semblance of humanity (patchy morals and all) in the room is him- no, the very source of it all as a prize to poke without consequences, ones that could be chained down and contained as soon as they started a stink anyways, he's stuck without solution. Putting up a fight had made him flightless and stinking of gravy, and following a request (albeit after having his nose dragged through it) had emboldened its giver to keep demanding more demoralizing feats of him. But maybe that was his plan all along...to warrant his preferred course of action at the man's stubborn nature? Compliance made for boring company.

So he does his best to eat hideously in a way that would prompt the most sensible to shudder and turn away with the same disdain of Eden, unaware that his unruly efforts seemed to be just what his lounging audience of one had hoped to witness. It's only after he begins to clean the second tin with his tongue that he notices the other's piercing gaze watching him as if amused by the very idea the first man had tried to repulse him- the most repulsive, hated being in existence. A half scowl gives way to the slathering of his fingers as he cleans them with noisy slurps and pops, the width of his tongue's unnatural projection sliding through a V juncture between middle and index fingers inhabited by a stubborn splatter of sauce not quite gravy as it was marinara.

After declining dessert initially, he's set to sidle back to his skulking schedule in the window, but finds the piercing gaze across the room affixed to him in the dusty pink haze of twilight... perplexing as it was alluring. As if the glow of it held some sort of pull to it that bid him check his neck with a curled talon as if the chained collar of infernal magic was back and gradually reeling him over with a fisher's patience. But no... no gag and chain this time. There's only the two faced fucker half spread eagle and smirking in a way that both pissed him off enough to want to stride over and strike the look off his face, and simultaneously convinced him to draw one staggered step after another until he's pacing the edge of the bed, eyes narrowed in suspicion at the wordless closing of distance that left him wondering why in some small degree while the hit of a certain pungency convinced him it was worth further investigation. Snorting deeply as if to trace the true source of the stench, he follows its trail. It's certainly no apple pie- the scent of apples too close to his face would make him gag.

The pie doesn't interest him so much now as the not so faint concoction of stink he knew well enough by its very nature. His design, unlike his exes, was built with a fail safe in mind to ensure the rise of populations. No head aches or mood swings or extreme temperatures could deter it. An insatiable hunger that even gratuitous amounts of food couldn't fix. Though with the way he comes to a direct stall in front of a serpent's half lidded gaze only to inhale with deep enough huffs to disturb wisps of the straw strands that fell into Lucifer's face without the aid of a fast enough claw to sweep them back, it's clear he's found the source, and it isn't the sticky residue capping the dark tips of a pie's recent fingering.

"Y'know...choking down all this slop would go down a lot better with~ oh. I dunno. A fucking soda?" Nevermind he'd managed three plates without any liquid so far. It was just common fucking courtesy to provide a beverage. Clicking his teeth in time with lowering his head just under the bed's canopy to peer in, his towering frame hunkers as he breathes in a few more determinative times before he's convinced. "You smell like a ripe whore by the way."

With the almost magnetic pull from the pungency of pheromones, he climbs in beneath the shadows cast by the half drawn canopy curtains, guided only by the ever iridescent guide of the snake eyes that had summoned him over in the first place. As he digs talons into the mattress on either side of those glowing lures, he's soon faced with a generous bite of crust and cinnamon soaked apple at the end of a fork held to his mask. And he might have ignored it in favor of the trance he's fallen into as seamlessly as his awakened hunger earlier, but that smell ... the smell of apples always did make him gag.

"Hrk-" A hiccup of a dry heave seems to scramble his senses straight enough to realize just what has unfolded between them in the moment and how suddenly constricted he feels by the coils of influence that felt so unfortunately familiar even after all this time. The stifled sounds of allure - from a dark thicket...a scent unlike that he knew from Eve, but imploring to be investigated with the clear sound of her voice -

His eyes shot open wider than his display capable of conveying and so they glitched in response. "You-...??" Ignoring the teasing drag of sticky across the twitch and subsequent flatline of his mouth, he stares down at the ever pervasive smirk coiled at the corners of the serpent's maw and felt the lump in his throat try to drop into his stomach, but it doesn't relent like the first bite of apple that refused to go down and instead catch halfway down in a bulge that hid behind the stupidly towering height of his collar.

Without a word and before the fork could tease a taste past a twitching lip, he uses the intimate positioning to grasp the other by the throat with a snap of talons, squeezing to keep him steady just as he found the pie tin with the other. Wasting no time, he then slams the pie down into his captor's face and holds it there as firmly as he does his neck.

"YOU eat it!!"

A shrill snarl accompanies the force he installs on both the pie tin and the slim stretch of neck to ensure little pockets of air don't get in. Let him feel the blind panic he had when he'd believed Eve and it wasn't even her. Let him choke on the same anaphylactic shock of forbidden fruit. With each forceful grind down on the pie tin, he issues a venomous word per each as if each would be his last before shattering into a shapeless rage that couldn't be fed, let alone reasoned with.

"YOU." Grind. "FUCKING." Grind. "EAT." Grind. "IT!!"

[crowleys-hips]

If you wont do every question i expect you to at least do these pretty please i am literally on the ground here give me somethinggg: record, apple, whatever the fuck Châteauneuf-du-Pape is, bentley, laudanum, magic, polaroid, pot, fly, turtleneck, south downs cottage, coffee, nightingales, tartan socks :)

well, since you have begged so nicely, i shall reward you with my entire bared soul just for you <3

record - a song that's very significant to you? what does it mean to you? Community Property by Steel Panther. this song has carried me through the toughest times in my life, it inspires me to be my best self and it really speaks to my soul. every time i listen to it i'm fighting tears. it's the most moving thing i've ever heard.

apple - what's your guilty pleasure? i've never felt guilty for my pleasures

Châteauneuf-du-Pape - tell us about a funny/goofy time with someone this one time i was walking at night with a friend to the grocery store i think? and some guy came over to us and he was holding a chicken, and he asked us if we know what chickens eat and where could he get chicken food. chicken man, i'll never forget you.

Bentley - what's your most prized possession? this little piece of your heart i carefully guard with my entire being <3

laudanum - what's the craziest thing you've ever done? oh lots of strong contenders for that one, but um. one of them i guess could be that one time i sort of kind of proposed to someone in the most pathetic, least romantic way possible as a last resort to try to get them to stay with me and choose me instead of something infinitely more valuable to them...i have made some questionable choices.

magic - what's something you suck at but absolutely love doing? talking with people

polaroid - what's a bittersweet memory? a memory that is both bitter and sweet

pot - a favorite childhood memory? being around 7 or 8 and playing with my best friend in her backyard pool

fly - tell us a secret. shh it's okay we won't tell anyone (except all of tumblr) i don't actually hate people. most of the time.

turtleneck - show us (or draw) your hottest outfit

not my best, but fagdyke-ish enough i hope lol

South Downs Cottage - what is your ideal happy ending? a cottage in the South Downs

coffee - describe what you would do if you were in a coffee shop au with your crush and there was an apocalypse out there and all you had to defend yourself is whatever is at hand in the coffee shop (mugs, coffee machine, plates, cash register, desserts, chairs, tables, napkins, etc). the enemies are floating heads who want to kidnap your crush. go: i wouldn't have to do anything. they would just have to look at me and be so appalled they would turn to ash on the spot. as for the crush, they would unfortunately also turn to ash probably.

nightingales - what makes it all worth it for you? Aziraphale

tartan socks - hot or not? absolutely. the hottest.

good omens themed asks

[quadrant-query]

❀✿ This is sort of a complicated situation, but do you have any advice for pitch dates and ways to flirt and keep things going that are less dangerous? ❀Preferably without it coming across as patronizing❀. (At least not in the wrong way!) ✿❀ ❀✿ I'm not getting into it for privacy reasons, but my kismesis recently had a traumatic injury. We used to spar and fight a lot, and we're both pretty active trolls so a lot of our relationship has been built around that. Since they got hurt though, they aren't able to do a lot of things that they used to be able to, even though they're pretty far along with recovery. We were initially taking a break from dates and trying to just wait for them to get better, but recently they learned some of the issues they're having might be a lot more permanent, so they might never get back to normal. They've been worried that this is going to change things between us, and I want to show them they're being a complete idiot! ❀Obviously❀ we don't have to stop dating just because it'll be a little different, I'm not that shallow! But I'm having a little bit of a hard time coming up with new ideas, especially because I don't want them to think I'm going easy on them or even give off the wrong signals and seem like I pity them. I still hate them, I just want to hate them in a relatively safe way, you know? ✿❀

This is one of the best questions I've gotten yet.

There are lots of good ways you can compete with someone that aren't necessarily physical in nature. It depends on what interests the two of you and what you'll enjoy (or hate) doing the most.

Some ideas could be:

Scavenger or treasure hunting (Assuming you both have equal transportation)

Seeing who can learn a new craft the fastest

Art contest (Have a mutual hatefriend judge)

Board games, especially strategic games like chess

Trivia games or even watching trivia television shows if you need something very low energy

Seeing who can rise to the ranks the fastest in an MMO

See how inconvenient you can be to each other in a two player co-op game

Attempting to make a dish or dessert as a contest

Visiting an arcade and trying to win the biggest prize

Arm wrestling (If it's not their arm that's been injured)

Trying to prank each other or fuck up each other's plans

Regular times to just be on call together and annoy each other

If both of you are comfortable with it, you could also be challenging them to do things that help make their injury easier to deal with, to coax them back into your old activities slowly over time, if that's possible. But they might also have a moirail handling that.

The most important thing in this situation is to show your kismesis that you haven't lost any respect for them and you still see them as the dangerous rival you always did, which it seems like you've already got covered. So hats off to you anon.