#does it go directly from wedding to reception

[groverapologist]

need to write a valgrace wedding fic but i am not american and do not know how american weddings work 💖

[earthtooz]

Wrio the slay calling reading clingy so reader sleeps on couch …😊 thx

x : DISTANCE :*+ﾟ

in which: you overhear wriothesley calling your affection too much, so you respect his wishes and give him some space. yet, why does he not seem like it?

warnings: 5.6k words (why did it get so long), hurt/comfort, gn!reader and wriothesley are married, pet names, no spoilers but set in canon, misunderstandings and miscommunication af, slowburn??, you might tug your hair out at some parts lol sorry, fluff with angst but happy ending, it gets emotional.

a/n: okay this was definitely not my favourite piece, i was experimenting with writing styles and writing in an omnipresent pov... so sorry if it feels clunky at some bits. overall, i'm pretty happy! also sorry for not sticking to the original prompt

Perhaps today was a bad time, you think as you leave the Fortress of Meropide, anxiety churning in your stomach and doubt weighing on your mind. Despite Fontaine’s sunrays shining brightly upon you, you feel anything but warm.  

What started as a visit to your husband with kind, wholesome intentions of delivering some lunch to him on your day off ended with a visit that left you riddled with questions. Coming at a time when he was in a meeting nearing its end, you didn’t even get the chance to speak to him, yet his words rattled around your head, replaying like a broken disc. 

“How are you and your spouse?” A rich voice echoes from his office, door slightly ajar signifying that whatever discussion was happening within was coming to an end.

“Y/n and I? We’re amazing, thank you,” Wriothesley answers. “I’m always happiest whenever I’m with Y/n.” 

The company, who you have realised is Monsieur Neuvillette, responds. “That’s good to hear.”

“Although, Y/n has been quite… affectionate recently, to the point that it’s borderlining too much-”

The conversation is drowned out by a ring of an alarm on Wriothesley’s desk and the atmosphere from his office suddenly grows in tension. The voice of the two men turn from relaxed to alarmed in a matter of seconds, and that is when you decide it is probably time to take your leave, lest you intrude on whatever emergency has happened.

Dropping the lunch you brought for Wriothesley at reception, even the receptionist was confused by how quick your visit was since they typically lasted for an hour- even longer since Wriothesley likes to push the amount of time he gets with you. They don’t question it, though, merely nodding in understanding when you tell them to drop it off for him on your behalf.

Has Wriothesley always thought of your affection as too much? If it was overwhelming him, why didn’t he tell you? And why Neuvillette, the Chief Justice of Fontaine, of all people? You understood the nature of their relationship- how they both tend to confine in each other with whatever they are troubled by, but why couldn’t your husband come to you about this directly? You made an oath on your wedding day to be fully honest with each other and to never hide anything. Where did that promise go?

Arriving home with a heavy heart, you immediately flop onto the couch, arm covering your eyes as tears sting the corners of your eyes. Perhaps it’s time you lessen your displays of physical affection before you drive the love of your life away.

Wriothesley, looking down at the contents of your boxed lunch, feels his heart warm in his chest at your display of care. How fortunate he is to have someone like you, he thinks before eating, satisfying his hungry stomach that has been aching for food since half an hour ago. He wonders why you didn’t see him personally and dropped it off instead, he would have liked to eat with you beside him.  

Whatever the reason, he’ll make sure to drop by your favourite bakery to purchase some conch madeleines as a thank you. 

When he returns home later in the evening, you’re asleep on the couch, curled up with only a book on your chest to protect you from the chilly air seeping into the house. Wriothesley quickly lays his coat over you, bookmarking the page you were at before retreating to change into more relaxing clothes. You still have not roused when he returns and as much as it pains him to disturb you, he doesn’t want you napping too late lest it disturbs your sleep schedule.

“Y/n?” He gently shakes you. Slowly, you come to wakefulness, eyes fluttering open as you gaze up at your husband.

“Wriothesley? You’re home?” You murmur, rubbing your eyes whilst slowly sitting up. “What time is it?”

“Nearing six in the evening.”

“Oh my! I didn’t mean to sleep that long! I’ll go get dinner ready, you should rest, you must have had a long day-”

Silencing you with a warm kiss to your forehead, you don’t melt into it like you usually would, his words from earlier slamming back into you like a brick. He doesn’t notice the way you tense, merely brushing your hair away from your forehead.

“Don’t worry about dinner, I’ll cook,” Wriothesley offers, grabbing something he left on the table behind him. “Have some madeleines I bought for you whilst you wait.”

He places a bag of the baked goods in your hands and you smile at him, lips chapped and eyes still drowsy, yet Wriothesley thinks you’re the most beautiful being to ever exist. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.” The dark-haired leaves you with another kiss to your temple before turning around to go into the kitchen. However, you stop him with a tug on his wrist which you drop almost immediately when he turns around, acting as if his skin was an open flame that licked you. 

“Darling, you have a sticker on your arm.” You reach up to grab the piece of adhesive, ripping it off him in one smooth motion. 

“Those melusines,” he murmurs, rolling his eyes with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For how much Wriothesley scolds them, he cannot bring himself to actually get mad at them, letting the little creatures play pranks instead of reprimanding them. 

“I’m surprised they keep getting by you. Maybe you need to sharpen your instincts.”

“Quiet, you,” there’s no bite to his words.

“They put a little crab on you,” you giggle. “Must be going through an ocean-themed sticker book. You had a little shell on you yesterday.”

“I did? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I find it funny.” 

He sits down beside you, dinner momentarily forgotten. “Do you now?” The dark-haired murmurs. “Turns out my own spouse is against me also.”

“If it brings me amusement, why not let the melusines play their pranks a little longer?”

“You are an awful influence,” Wriothesley winds his arms around your torso, pushing you down into the pillows of the couch. There, you almost sink into him, lured by the warmth of his embrace, but the memory of what you overheard sinks into your gut like an icicle, and your smile fades.

You pat his shoulders in surrender. “Shouldn’t you be working on dinner, dear? It’s already quite late.” You pray he doesn’t notice the way you have suddenly altered the mood, drying the playful atmosphere.

If he does notice, he doesn’t comment on it, getting up with a groan before retreating into the kitchen. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There’s a whistle from the doorway to your bedroom, low and appreciative, and the culprit is no one other than Wriothesley. He walks towards you, draping himself over your figure sat in front of the mirror. “Where are you going tonight?”

“Clorinde and I are going to dinner together,” you tell him nonchalantly, as if all of his weight wasn’t on your shoulders right now. 

He pouts. “When will you be home?”

“Not too late, that’s for sure. We’re meeting at the other side of the Court of Fontaine, though.”

“An evening without my love, whatever shall I do?”

“You’ll live,” you smile before raising a necklace up to him. “Help me put this on?”

With a huff, he raises himself off your back and gently takes the jewellery from your hands, careful with the jewels that adorn it. His cold touch grazes against your exposed skin, sending shivers down your spine as he successfully clasps it together. When you meet his gaze in the mirror, it’s full of adoration and admiration, and you have to busy yourself with your hair lest it flusters you too much. 

Standing up, you swiftly walk out of the bedroom and towards the front door. Wriothesley trails behind you without much thought. “I’ll get going now before I’m too late.”

“Do you need me to accompany you there?” 

“It’s alright, thank you for offering.” Disappointment floods him like an ocean as he watches you put on your shoes. With one final fidget of your clothes, you deem yourself presentable and turn to him. “See you tonight, darling-”

“-Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?” Your eyes widen in alarm as you begin frantically patting yourself down. “I brought my wallet, keys? They’re here, what am I forgetting?”

Wriothesley pretends like your cluelessness doesn’t hurt more than it actually does. He taps his cheek. “A kiss.”

“Oh, of course. How could I be so careless?” you laugh, the corners of your eyes scrunching with delight. Wriothesley has a remark resting on the tip of his tongue but it quickly dies when you step forward, anchoring your hand on his chin before you press a kiss to his cheek; to both cheeks for good measure. 

“Love you,” you murmur when parting. 

The desire to keep you home is a burning one, and pleads of ‘stay’ threaten to spill from his mouth. There is nothing more he wants than to be in your arms, to cling to you until the weekend is over in the blink of an eye, but you are your own person, and no matter how needy he is, Wriothesley should not stand in the way of your fun. 

“I love you more,” he sighs, holding open the front door for you. “Be back soon.”

“I’ll try. Bye dear!” You blow him a kiss before walking out of your garden.  

He watches you leave with a heart heavy with longing, closing the front door once you’re out of sight and tries to sigh the feeling of emptiness away. 

Later that night, Wriothesley greets you the second he hears the front door being unlocked, urgent strides allowing him to turn the corner just as you open the door, looking as pristine as you did when you left. There’s a small, tired smile on your face, but you look happy, blissful expression brightening when you see him. 

“Hello, love,” you say, slipping your shoes off.

“Welcome back,” he says, embracing you with one, muscular arm whilst pulling you in for a kiss. Your hands unusually fly up to hold his shoulders and Wriothesley thinks he’s imagining the way you push him slightly, as if trying to get him out of your personal space. Yet your grasp on him was so tight, creating temporary divots in his skin that he doesn’t really know what you’re trying to do.

Why are you trying to push him away in the first place? The thought of you not wanting him near is upsetting enough to make him unknowingly tighten his grip around you, causing you to stumble into him from the momentum. 

You look up at him, shocked whilst he gazes down at you with a storm of terror gathering in his eyes. For the first time since the two of you got married all those years ago, a rift forms.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Whatever occurred that night isn’t a topic of conversation, ever. The two of you retreated to bed after a quick conversation of how your evenings were before devolving into other topics, like what the week ahead had in store, restaurants you two should visit sometime, new boutiques and bakeries you’ve been hoping to explore- little chats that hold more meaning as the days roll by.

During it all, there was an undeniable heaviness to the conversation that made it slightly uncomfortable. Wriothesley cannot remove the memory of how you tried to push him away and you cannot forget the shocked look in his eyes. The more you picture it, the guiltier you feel, heart sinking in your chest.

You thought that it was what Wriothesley wanted: more space from you, an opportunity to breathe without you overwhelming his space.

So why do you feel so bad about respecting his wishes?

“What a lovely view!” You exclaim excitedly, running toward a patch on the grass that sits a few metres away from a nearby beach, the sound of waves meeting shore a soothing lullaby and a testament to how calm the day is. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you’re out on a picnic with the love of your life.

“Here’s a nice spot to set up, what do you think, Wriothesley?” You ask.

“Sounds amazing, darling,” he responds, setting down the picnic basket when you’ve laid out the blanket. You sit down with an unglamorous huff, leaning back onto your hands to let the morning sun soak into your features.

Morning picnics were one of yours and Wriothesley’s favourite date ideas. The best time to be together was before the sun would rise to its highest peak, bearing hot sunrays that make everything uncomfortable for everyone. Fontaine’s sun is never merciful either, which is why the nation is perfect for diving and all other water-related activities, but when you are simply walking around, it becomes rather suffocating.

The Fortress of Meropide’s administrator takes a seat beside you and you indulge by resting your head on his shoulder, hoping that he isn’t uncomfortable under your touch. The dark-haired hasn’t shaken you off yet, so you keep resting against him.

“How did you discover this place?” You ask.

“Siora told me of it, said that a passenger on the aquabus was talking to her about it. She thought that it sounded like a delightful place to take you to,” he answers and you can’t help but smile, fiddling with your fingers.

Melusines and their wholesome ways. You’ll find a way to thank Siora later. “How kind of her and how fortunate for us.”

“I take it you like it here then?”

“I love it,” you tuck your legs closer to your chest and Wriothesley leans back on his arms as well, letting your hands rest beside each other as the sea continues to crash on the shore before you. There are seals resting nearby too, ships pass by here and there, and seagulls stop near the two of you before flying away, but the only thing that matters to Wriothesley is you leaning on his shoulder.

Sharing with him the breakfast sandwiches you packed, no words are exchanged, merely the sound of waves crashing against the shore occupy the tranquil silence. It’s not until a few minutes later that Wriothesley speaks. 

“Will you be visiting me at the office today?” He asks.

You tear your gaze away from the horizon. “Perhaps. Do you want me to?”

“Would I really be asking if I didn’t?”

“Please, forego the sass, your grace,” you snort and he rolls his eyes, an affectionate smile pulling on his lips. 

“Seriously though, I would like you to. You know how dreary and boring weekends at the prison get, would be much better having you there.”

“Are you trying to butter me up?”

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe,” you mutter, grinning. “Would you like me to bring lunch with me or shall we go find a place to eat?”

“How about takeout? Hey wait, now that I think about it, why didn’t you stay the other day when you brought lunch for me? I would have much rather seen your pretty face than the receptionist’s.”

You ignore the butterflies blooming in your stomach because of his compliment. “An emergency happened just as I reached there. I didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it, so I left.”

Confusion shines in his eyes, his expression giving away the cogwork ticking in his brain as he tries to pinpoint what emergency you could be referring to. When the pieces click, his eyes widen a little. “I see. You did the right thing, my love,” he presses a kiss to your cheek. 

“I’ll visit you today,” you whisper, toying with the hem of your clothes as you wait for his response. 

“Amazing. I’m looking forward to it, then”

You stay true to your word, walking down the path you recognise like the back of your hand. The guards need not think twice about welcoming you in, guiding you straight in the direction of Wriothesley’s office. 

Since being with him, you’ve grown less and less afraid of how daunting the Fortress can feel, adapting to the chill knowing that there is someone in there who will set himself ablaze to keep you warm. Yet, today you walk in with apprehension clasped around your ankles, threatening to pull you under with each step. 

It’s ridiculous, you know Wriothesley would never turn you away or shun you, but the mind is the worst enemy and yours can’t stop replaying the conversation you overheard weeks ago. You know Wriothesley could open those heavy doors of his and greet you with something more grim than loving and cast you aside, and you have to hold your breath when the guards knock on your behalf.

Your heart skips a beat when they push open the doors, revealing your husband crouched over his desk, hands mussed in his hair to keep them out of his eyes. He looks up at you and the way a smile manifests on his features is akin to that of fire melting ice, fatigue dissipating as you step inside his office.  

“Hello, dear,” you greet, tone soft and controlled, unlike the thrashing of your gut.

“Hi,” he stands up and takes great strides towards you. Naturally, you open your arms for him; unnaturally, you merely hug him instead of greeting him with a kiss. Wriothesley keeps you locked in his arms as he digs his nose into your neck and you feel the way his eyes flutter close against your skin.

“Long day?”

“Draining too,” he murmurs. 

“Oh dear, we cannot have your grace tired, whatever shall we do!” You gasp overdramatically, clearly poking fun at him because you are perhaps one of the only people who could do so in this entire building. 

The dark-haired accepts it and doesn’t bother to correct your use of formalities. Instead, he retracts his head out of your neck to look at you with hopeful eyes instead. “You could give me a kiss.” 

“Did you do anything today to earn it?”

“I need to earn my kisses now?”

“You should shut up sometimes,” you murmur before placing your hands along his jaw, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He smiles against you, biting back a quip when his hand comes to the base of your neck, holding you against him. You can tell he needed the proximity, judging by his little exhale and the way his shoulders slouch, so you let him take his time and ignore the nagging in your heart.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Wriothesley is losing his mind. He has been since you left the Fortress of Meropide, and was left to freeze in the ache of your lack of affection. A goodbye kiss is customary between you two and when you didn’t give him one before leaving, it felt like a slap to the face. He would have much rather you just slapped him, actually, so what gives? 

You’re not rejecting his advances, but you’re not explicitly initiating anything either. Does that mean he should back off, too? Did he do something to upset you, and if so, when? All this thinking and speculating is making him feel like a pathetic headless chicken who can’t even talk to his spouse-

“-Wait!” You exclaim, just as he was about to grab the knob to the front entrance and step out. Instead, Wriothesley turns around to be greeted by the sigh of you frantically scrambling to him, and his heart can’t help but come alive, silencing his thoughts.

Stopping to a slide before him, he can’t hold back a soft grin. Despite just wrangling out of the claws of sleep, you’re so breathtaking, delicate in the mornings when no one else is around but him. The dark-haired is grateful that only he is able to witness you like this, that you trust him with this vulnerable side of you.

You don’t meet his gaze, eyes pinned to his chest instead. “Your tie is crooked,” you murmur hands reaching out before he even gets a chance to look down. “Let me help you.”

How can he deny such a kind request of yours? You’re gentle with him, undoing his knot and weaving it together until it looks proper, but Wriothesley couldn’t care what his tie looks like. You could be making a total fool of him and he wouldn’t care, too entranced by your glow to tear his eyes away from you. There’s a little scrunch in your forehead as you concentrate, mouth slightly parted and you’re not oblivious to his gaze either, too familiar with the intensity of it to get shy. 

Finally satisfied with your work, you let go, patting his shoulders and smoothing out any wrinkles in his garment. “There. All done.” 

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs. 

Wriothesley is expecting a kiss from you, waits for the moment that you’ll rise onto your toes and place a peck on his lips to fill him with some energy for the day. He waits for the familiar feeling of your lips pressing against his, and waits for the rush of adrenaline that your touch always manages to ignite.

Except it never comes, and it hurts most to confess that some part of him preempted this. You step away from him without another word, or kiss, and his heart burns at your retraction, unease fluttering the lining of his stomach when you turn around to retreat into the living room. Wriothesley moves without thinking, a hand coming up to your waist to stop your steps as he forcefully pulls you back to him, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one far more intense than the ones you usually give this early in the morning. 

You notice the desperation that bleeds from him; a certain fervour uncharacteristic in situations of morning domesticity. 

There’s a bright glimmer of surprise in your eyes when he pulls away, as if he had kissed away all your fatigue and shocked wakefulness into you. 

“Have a good day at work,” you murmur, barely able to choke the words out. 

“I will,” he replies, opening the door. You stay and watch him go, still trying to recover your breath over his passionate display of affection. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day his racing thoughts get to him is the eighth day of this strange treatment of yours. At this point, he’s become insatiable, barely able to hold it together as you remain in the centre of his world. He wants your affection again, he wants your displays of love, he wants you near him so badly that it’s driving him up the walls of the Fortress. 

It’s irrational for him, a grown man, to skirt around his problems as if he was a teenager. For some reason, Wriothesley has no issue locking up and containing some of Fontaine’s most dangerous criminals, yet when it comes to you, he becomes a lovesick fool who craves everything his partner can give. 

You still are not initiating any displays of affection, keeping to yourself unless it is him acting first. 

But after being locked in his own study for hours, unable to distract himself from you when he was really meant to be reading some new court documents from Neuvillette, he snaps. Pushing his chair out with more force than necessary, he searches for you in the living room, where you are curled up in the corner, reading.

“Is everything alright?” Wriothesley’s interruption shocks you, and you jolt your head up to meet his gaze. 

You are met with the sight of him leaned against the wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Why wouldn’t they be?” You ask, not letting your gaze linger for too long on his arms before sitting up just a little straighter.

“Dunno. Just double checking.”

“Okay,” you hum softly, nodding. “Are you alright?”

“Me?” How could you switch this up on him so quickly?

“Yeah.”

“Fine, amazing, just dandy.” 

You raise an eyebrow at your husband, not truly believing him but you decide it’s best not to press on. “Alright… but if anything is wrong, don’t be afraid to tell me.” You go back to your book and your hair falls perfectly in front of your face to hide it from him.

Wriothesley shifts his weight from one leg to the other, trying to find the words to speak up and ask why you were acting so weird. It’d been two hours and twenty-four minutes (and counting) since you last saw him when he disappeared into his study, were you not concerned for him in the slightest? Sure you dropped off a plate of fruit and refilled his teapot with hot water, but normally your check-ins would be a little more frequent, and a little more encouraging than just a morale boost through food. 

Where was the cheek kiss you always gave him before you left?

Deciding not to press on any further, your husband sighs before leaving, his arms and heart feeling emptier than usual. You are only in the next room, but why do you feel like you’re on the other side of Teyvat?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The day Wriothesley snaps is the day Sigewinne asks him to be nicer to the guards of the Fortress because his foul mood is darkening the already glum prison. His subordinates must have sent her knowing that he couldn’t possibly lash out at her, and they were right, but she really didn’t need to comment on the way his veins have been more prominent recently, or how creases are forming on his forehead from how hard he’s been scowling. To top it off, she said that he should delay the appearance of wrinkles for as long as necessary, because there’s a good chance they’ll come earlier than he wants.

He’s not even a day over thirty, and yet, he is being reprimanded for ‘ageing’. But he knows the problem, and he’ll be damned if he lets it drag out for another day. 

“Welcome home, baby-” your greeting is cut off unceremoniously by your husband, who practically drags you into his embrace, closing you in with no space for you to breathe or move. Your cries of alarm are muffled against his chest, and he easily picks you up before striding the path to your shared bedroom. There, he all but throws you onto the bed, your neck resting on the pillows as he climbs on after you. “Wriothesley?”

He shushes you.

“What-”

“-I need this,” he wraps around you like a vine and breathes you in with the fervour of a man starved. 

When you try to shuffle away from under him, or at the very least sit up, Wriothesley groans, borderlining a growl as he tightens his arms around your middle. You don’t question or disobey his wants, merely sinking your head into the pillows in understanding that he must have had a particularly rough day. 

So instead of repelling his touch, you give in and let a hand snake up to his hair, playing with it as you let Wriothesley lay atop you. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders melts away, and the way you’re scratching his scalp is enticing him to rest, except there is a barrier keeping him from reaching a haven of dreams and he won’t rest peacefully until he’s broken through it.

“Why have you been so distant lately?” He garbles, voice a lot shakier from the usual stoic Wriothesley that you are used to.

You heard him loud and clear, but a pathetic ‘pardon?’ slips past your lips.

“I said, why have you been so distant lately?” This time, he’s firm, determination seeping into his tone as a hand of his sneaks out from underneath you to search for your hand. After patting around, he finds it and holds it gently, raising it to press a long kiss to your knuckles. 

It’s silent. You don’t have anything to say in response and it’s past the grace period where you can give an excuse and make it sound like the truth, and Wriothesley looks up at you with expectant eyes. There’s hurt in them but as much as you’d like to mend the heartbroken expression of his, admitting the truth is difficult, because it has eaten you alive, gnawing at your heart for days on end. 

“I…I don’t have it in me to tell you,” you murmur quietly, looking away and slipping your hand out of his, but Wriothesley is tired of this dance of yours and chases after your touch, this time roughly grasping your wrists. Not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you rooted. 

“I didn’t do anything, did I?” He asks, raising your hand to his cheek. 

Your voice is quiet when you confess. “If I said you didn’t, I’d be lying.” 

The dark-haired stiffens. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you cough.

“No, Y/n, be honest with me here.”

“You’re going to laugh at me, or find me ridiculous.” Wriothesley’s heart clenches at your admittance, frowning at the fractures of insecurity piercing you like glass, but most of all, he hates that he can’t stop you from feeling this way. “I thought what I did was what you wanted.”  

“Which was?” 

“Some distance, just- not me crowding your personal space all the time.”

“Why would I ever want that?”

“I can get overbearing sometimes, and I don’t know, just assumed that would annoy you.”

“You’re not telling me everything, I can tell something happened to make you feel this way. Please, darling, just tell me the truth. I promise you I won’t judge or think differently of you.” 

You sigh. “I… I overheard you and Monsieur Neuvillette the other day- when I dropped off lunch. You said that my affection was sometimes too much, and that I was making you uncomfortable, so I thought that you wouldn’t want me to be around you anymore. I didn’t want to drive you away so I, y’know…”

Confusion fills him stomach like water and it takes a few moments before it hits him, the memory coming back to him. You heard his conversation out of context- he wasn’t complaining about you, no, quite the opposite, but it just seems that you weren’t there for the parts that mattered most, and now you can’t even bear to look him in the eye. 

“Honey, please look at me,” his voice thins into a vulnerable whisper that pleads for you to glance his way so you can see how he is head over heels in love with you. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he almost cracks under the weight of your sadness, and it dawns upon him that you can’t feel the adoration he holds for you, dripping from his heart into your hands. You can’t see the mountains he’d overcome just to end the day resting in your arms. You don’t know the extent he would go just to win your love.

It’s a fact that kicks at his knees, shuns him down and bruises his heart. If the Fortress of Meropide has taught him anything, it’s that there is no point holding your feelings back from living fully. There is no point to contain the human heart that has every desire to live with others, he has seen the sorrow of prisoners saying goodbye to loved ones, and how they dwell over words they should have said. Even his own time as a prisoner taught him so, because everytime he sat behind those bars, the faces of people he should have been more open to kept him awake at night. 

Wriothesley would rather drown in primordial water than see you, the most important person in his life, hurting over his own negligence. You have been feeling half-loved because of him and he doesn’t know how he can make it up to you.

“You misunderstand. I wasn’t talking about you negatively, I was talking to Neuvillette about how loved you made me feel that way, and how grateful I am to have someone like you as my partner,” he confesses earnestly, eyes pleading for you to believe him.

You blink at him, comprehending his words carefully. “Really?” You ask.

“I would never think otherwise,” he whispers.

As if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, a smile pulls at your lips and suddenly, a laugh spills from them, causing your expression to scrunch up with joy, looking the most lively Wriothesley has seen you in a while. He laughs with you too, just a little. 

“I’m sorry,” you confess through dying fits of laughter. “I shouldn’t have assumed like that, how stupid.”

He shakes his head, “you have nothing to apologise for, you’re not at fault. But I beg you, never hide things like this from me again and tell me whenever something bothers you.”

You nod, “I will.”

“Promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never ever think that I want to be away from you,” Wriothesley grumbles, hiding himself in the crook of your neck. “That was the worst week of my life.” 

“Sorry for putting you through all that.”

“Stop apologising.” He demands. “Just, no more secrets.” 

“I love you, Wriothesley.” 

He sighs shakily, relief tangible in his tone. “I love you more.”

A damp patch forms on your collar bone right where his tears would fall, and you place a kiss on his forehead for each drop you feel on your skin. There is still much to discuss, much to mend between the two of you, but his hands run along your skin like he’s trying to memorise and mark you, so you never doubt his devotion again. 

*sighs and puts hands on hips* i don't really like that ending either so don't judge lol

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[chuubian]

Good luck, babe!

Tags Arlecchino x fem reader, cheating (on a man not each other), angst, degradation, praise kink needy Arlecchino, wedding, strap on sex, strap sucking MDNI

Summary Love was not something you had ever felt for that man. That seemed okay for a while, at least, until Arlecchino came into your life and changed it forever.

A/N This was supposed to come out before Christmas, but I was in the hospital so its late. I'm sorry if the eggnog feels too seasonal.

The fatui always goes full out with their celebrations. A full-sized orchestra is playing passionately in the reception hall, classical music echoing through Zapolyarny palace. Beautiful lanterns hang from the ceiling and pillars, keeping the party warm from the eternal winter raving outside. Slumped against the cold metal chair, your eyes dart around the room restlessly— looking for a familiar head of white and black hair. It proves nearly impossible with the large hoard of people in your way.

Standing upright, you twist uncomfortably— the iron beams had dug into your back and arms. A dull throb ripples through your flesh. Does the Tsaritsa have something against keeping people cozy? Pushing the pain aside, you weave through the crowd. You find yourself in front of the main table— overflowing with delectable food and sugary drinks, ready for anyone to stuff themselves until their heart stops. Plucking a small plastic cup from the surface of the counter, you fill it to the brim with eggnog.

The drink is sickeningly sweet and thick, like pure honey is being poured directly into your throat. Warmth spreads throughout your throat and chest, cascading down and pooling in your stomach. A choker is wrapped around the circumference of your neck, pressing against your jugular, chafing your sensitive skin. The heat seems to get stuck in your esophagus— trapped by the little strap of leather looped around your throat. You can't wait for this to be over.

Fingers tapping the cup impatiently, your eyes are focused on the swarm of people in front of you, Dancing happily as you stand to the side. Obsidian black fingers yank the eggnog away from you— lifting the drink to bright red lips. Arlecchino gulps down the entire thing, unbothered by the alcohol. The rim of the cup is left stained with her cherry red lipstick. A small part of you aches to press your own lips against it, to get even a bit of herself on you. But not here.

“Bored?”

Nodding, you look up at her— towering over you with her impossibly high heels. The red-eyed woman reaches over, running a sharp nail over your choker.

“You look nice. Did he get that for you?”

“Yeah… He insisted I wear it tonight.”

Her slender fingers slide under the thick fabric, tugging lightly. Leaning down, her breath brushes against your skin delicately— sending shivers down your spine.

“I could have gotten you something way better you know…”

“Don't be like that, it's nice.”

Scoffing, she stands back up normally, letting go of the choker.

“Could've been better.”

You roll your eyes, glancing down. Sometimes, it’s difficult to look her in the eyes. Her stare is far too intense. Like it’s burning into your soul. Piercing straight through you, shooting a flaming thrill through your veins, lighting your nerve ending on fire. A large hand snakes under your chin— forcing you to look up. You swear you can see embers blazing behind her X-shaped pupils.

“Look at me.”

Pushing her hand away, you scan your surroundings nervously. Thank God no one is looking in your direction.

“Arle… you can’t act like that here…”

“Oh please, who would say anything? I'm a harbinger.”

Her voice is condescending, as if chastising you for ever thinking less of her position. It's true. People are much too terrified of her to dare make up rumors. Unfortunate souls in the past had spread gossip about the fourth harbinger—stories about her tearing families apart and stealing the children, thrusting them into a life as heartless soldiers. It did not take long for the men who started the scandal to be found dead. Alone in their homes, with seemingly no signs of a break in. Their bodies were completely untouched and clean, except for the eyes that were— almost surgically— plucked out, and the large holes left in their chest. Their hearts somehow went missing. No blood stained their shirts, or the ground beneath them. It was never confirmed, but everyone knows.

“Still… he's already suspicious.”

“So? Let his mind wander. He won't do anything anyways. He's weak.”

Clicking your tongue, you push her hand away, glaring at her.

“He is not.”

Arlecchino's fierce eyes narrow.

“He is.”

Ignoring her, you adjust your choker. Suddenly, it's far too warm inside here. Isn't this Snezhnaya? Why is it so hot?

“Whatever. Let's not talk about him, yeah? Let's go somewhere private.”

You knew what that meant. It's expected at this point. It's really the only reason you didn't decide to stay home. Even the Tsaritsa herself could not have made you attend this party if Arlecchino was not here.

“I'll join you in a few minutes…”

Her icy hand comes up to pat you on the cheek.

“Alright then. I’ll see you later.”

The harbinger doesn't wait for an answer before sauntering away, taking all the heat with her, leaving you isolated and numb— like an iceberg, sailing across a frigid bottomless sea. For a few minutes, you stay put. Watching the people laughing and having fun around you. The glow on their faces makes you aware of the hollow rift widening in your chest. It’s as if your heart and lungs are carved out, leaving nothing but suffocating solitude. They're so happy.

Maybe the choker is just too tight.

Definitely too tight.

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, you make your way towards the main doors. Your shoes clack against the hard, frosty concrete floors. A brisk gust of wind breezes past you as you step into the hallway. Faint shudders follow— crisp surges of chilling unease and dread pour over your head, trailing down and assembling at the bottoms of your feet. Each step towards that one room, the one you're so familiar with, is agonizing.

Stopping in front of large wooden double doors, the air almost seems like it's stolen from your lungs. This is it. The eggnog you had drunk earlier is sinking to the bottom of your stomach, swirling and leaving you nauseous. Heavy doors push back against you, refusing to move as you force your way through. Loud creaking echoes through the barren hallways— almost masking the sound of loud classical music that somehow still reaches you here deep in Zapolyarny palace.

“Finally.”

A cold hand quickly entangles itself in your hair, dragging you closer until her lips crash against yours. Flames feel as if they've engulfed you— scorching desire completely numbing the tips of your fingers, mouth going dry. Her tongue drags against your bottom lip, requesting access. Your mind is foggy, struggling to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of her soft lips on yours. The fingers in your hair tighten, pulling gently and creating gentle tingles all over your scalp. The man waiting for you at home is not even a concern anymore, all that matters is this. Her.

Dull surprised groans are swallowed and muffled between you. Strong arms shove you onto the bed in the back of the room. It's soft and fluffy. She clearly made sure to prepare everything for your clandestine meeting. Your lips are freed from hers, swollen and stained with scarlet lipstick. Arlecchino’s expert hands make quick work of the leather strap wrapped around your throat— unbuckling the metal smoothly. Relief floods over you. It's like you can finally breathe properly, without the stupid choker restricting you.

“It has been far too long.”

Her voice is darkened, deep and overladen with desire.

“I missed this…”

“Are you sure it's not me you missed?”

She teases, slowly climbing on top of you. Her hands plant themselves on the mattress beside your head. From down here, she looks heavenly. It couldn't be farther from reality. She is evil incarnate. Sin and temptation in a human form. There's no other reason you fell under her spell- into her bed— so easily.

“That's basically the same thing, Arle.”

Her knees gently push your legs apart, settling between them. As she leans down, her smooth hair grazes against your skin— tickling your face. Warm puffs of air sweep over the side of your neck. The closeness is causing your head to spin. You're left paralyzed— unsure of what to do or say next. This does not go unnoticed by Arlecchino's sharp eyes.

She smiles. For the first time that night. The pressure of her body weighs pushes you down, further into the bed. It’s hot. Despite the heaviness against your chest, you can feel the soft flesh of her waist and chest. Nothing has ever felt better than this, Part of you wishes this is how you would die, underneath her. Those men got off lucky being murdered by her. Her alluring voice was the last thing they heard.

“It's really not. Just admit you missed me.”

Her red-stained lips brush against your jugular. Your hands itch to touch her, to take any part of her you can't— but they are too busy being held down by her strong grip. Sharp pain shoots up your spine as her pointy teeth nip at the thin skin of your throat. The words are stuck in your esophagus, unable to get out. And although the choker is gone, the suffocating sensation has not gone away.

Bony, deft hands hurriedly undo the buttons of your shirt, pushing it open. Her pointed nails scratch down your chest and tummy. It feels like you're being cut open— with her making an incision right over your heart and carving it out. Knowing her, she has every intention to.

A trail of spit and lipstick are evidence of the harbinger’s messy kisses on your skin. A quick shower could remove the makeup stains left behind, but by tomorrow your stomach will be adorned with deep red and purple bruises- intensifying and darkening as the days go on. Any crouching or bending afterwards will probably sting and ache.

Intense, x pupil eyes rove over your body hungrily. Your half-stripped body is feverish despite the frigid blizzard raging just outside the window behind you. Unsteadily, your arms wrap around Arlecchino’s shoulders— wishing that she would hurry up. Sooner than you can complain, she interjects.

“I know, I'll give you what you want soon.”

“You always say that, and it always takes forever.”

She rolls her eyes, playing with the waistband of your pants.

“There is nothing wrong with enjoying my food.”

A light sting makes your hairs stand on end as the black- and white-haired woman presses her nail into your flesh harshly and traces the hem of your waistband.

“Ow!! I’m not one of your victims; you have to treat me with care!”

“Oh please, you like it when I'm mean.”

Taking matters into your own hands, you find the edge of her jacket and push it open. The fabric resists when going over her shoulders, and she does not assist even a little bit. After watching you struggle for a few seconds, she smirks— tenderly shoving your wrist away.

“You need help there?”

Provocatively, Arlecchino shrugs off her jacket and easily removes the shirt underneath. Your mouth waters at the sight of her bare chest. It's like seeing the full divinity of an archon for the first time. If she had asked you to denounce your loyalty to the Tsaritsa at this moment, you'd do it without hesitation. Your greedy hands grope and grab at the tent in her pants.

“Already…? Were you that excited to see me?”

“Did you want me to be unprepared?”

Thumbing at the button on her pants, you watch as more of her pale skin is uncovered. Only you get to see her like this. The leather of the harness digs into her hips and the small bit of fat around her tummy swells over the material. Eyes wide, you look up at her, running your finger over the edge of the strap.

“What are you waiting for?”

She sits up, pushing your head towards her pelvis.

“Get to work.”

Tentatively, you shove her pants down until they’re caught around her knees. The bright red silicone springs up— almost hitting you in the face. Crouching over, your hand wraps around the base as you glance up at her. It is unfair how heavenly she looks even at this angle. Your lips wrap around the thick head. It stretches your jaw unpleasantly.

“Mmmm.”

She grunts impatiently.

“Come on, I know you can take it.”

The harbinger’s large hand descends down to rest on the back of your head— encouraging you to take her deeper. Your eyebrows furrow. It's a struggle to take everything at once. Tears spring up as the hard silicone nudges at the back of your throat. A low growl vibrates in her esophagus as her fingers curl in the threads of your hair, pushing you down further.

Coughing and gagging from the sudden force, you swallow around the intrusion. Just the thought of her feeling your mouth working for and pleasing her through the strap makes your stomach do little flips. You press your thighs together— It's nearly unbearable to have to hold back.

“Taking me so well, such a good girl.”

Her voice is rough, tinged with pleasure. Nasty squelching fills the room as you’re choked on her cock. Saliva coats your lips and chin, dripping down the base. Blood rushes to your face, overheating and setting your nerves alight.

“Fuck... You love this don't you? You like being under me, serving me.”

Nodding, wet salty tears trickle down your cheeks. It's arduous work to get proper air into your lungs. They simmer and throb from the lack of oxygen, but the burn is thrilling. Finally, she lets up. Her hands let your head snap back up.

Gasping for air, you can feel the blood rushing back into your fingertips and your face finally returning back to a normal temperature. A thick glob of drool still connects your shiny abused lips to the strap hanging from Arlecchino's hips. Your hands feebly grip onto her thighs for purchase. A cold, delicate thumb ghosts over your jaw— compelling you to look at her in her crazed red eyes. They're glowing, charged.

“You don’t think you're done yet, do you?”

It's not a question. It's a command to keep going. Your mouth opens up, accepting the dull head of silicone in. There's an ache in your cheeks and lips that draws a shaky sigh from your gut. She tsks softly, thumb massaging your jaw.

“I thought you were better than this. We worked so hard to get you to this point and you can't do it for more than a few minutes?”

Her claws hook into the flesh of your cheeks, squishing them together and forcing you further down. Viscous spit does little to lubricate properly— the friction inflames your throat, but Arlecchino still demands more. Her hips jut forward, pushing onward. You bob your head— observing every jerk of her hips and the way her abs tense with effort.

Your fingers absentmindedly trace the edges of the leather, hooking around the material, and dragging her closer. She didn't slow down even for a second, thrusting into you brutally. Your head is rocking back and forth frantically. The violent movement is making your brain spin. Her ragged breathing and the lightheaded trance you've been put in motivates you to push past the cramp in your jaw.

Just when you're sure your lungs will collapse— when your vision starts to cross, and your legs are beginning to tingle from inadequate blood circulation— Arlecchino tenderly draws you off the strap. Relief washes over you. Sweat is dripping down your forehead, spit coats your lips and chin. Your lungs greedily wheeze and seek out fresh oxygen, laboriously expanding and filling with air after being compressed for so long.

She chuckles evilly.

“Too much?”

You shake your head.

“I can handle it.”

Your voice is rough and shaky— completely ruined by her forceful thrusts. Her rough fingers wipe away your tears.

“Well, you did wonderfully.”

The praise cascaded over you like boiling hot springs. Your skin was blistering and tender— unused to her sweltering warmth. Arlecchino was never one for kind words of approval. It's nearly too much. The comforter is hot, and the room is too stuffy, and you can't think straight even when you close your eyes. You swallow hard, fingers roughly burrowing into the sheets.

“Come on...”

Her frigid hands lightly push you onto your back, putting a pillow underneath your hips. Savagely, she rips your pants and underwear off— like a beast craving its next meal. Jagged nails dig into the meat of your inner thighs, easing them apart, your legs wrap around her hips. She reaches across from you, grabbing a tiny bottle filled with cherry-scented oil.

Arlecchino pours the light pink liquid onto her hand, working it over the spit-slicked toy and moving closer, intertwining your hands together and planting them beside your head.

“Are you ready?”

Her face is so close that you can feel her excited breaths grazing your neck. You nod. It's a good thing you're not standing because your legs feel so weak you would have collapsed by now. There's a small ripple of anxiety in your stomach growing bigger and bigger the more she waits to push in.

“Good, good. Stay relaxed for me.”

A loud whine builds in your throat, difficult to stifle, as Arlecchino pushes in— punching the air out of your lungs. Your body easily accepts the intrusion, but it burns. Her pelvis is pressed against the flesh of your ass, completely sheathed inside you, waiting for you to adjust. Your eyes shut tight while Arlecchino started pressing soft tender kisses down your sternum, her coarse tongue laps at your nipples.

“Agh f-fuck-”

“Relax, baby. Relax.”

Her nails bite into your flesh painfully—- scratches and blemishes are sure to dye your thighs in dark purples and reds. Your head feels like it's swimming, drowning underneath the thick layer of shame and arousal. Arlecchino's hips pull back and snap back towards your warm cunt. She sets a brutal pace, spearing you open on her cock, pounding against your sweet spot.

“So good for me... That's it, just take it.”

Electric sparks scatter at the base of your spine. You choke on your own spit as she drives herself back in savagely, dragging against your sensitive, pliant walls. Your toes curl, hips rolling back against her, letting out a string of garbled wails and whimpers. She captures one of your nipples between her sharpened teeth, clamping down.

The bed frame bangs against the cold stone wall loudly. It's a wonder people haven't found the two of you yet. Her hand comes up to thumb at your other nipple. She knows it's impossible, but she swears she can feel you pulsing around the silicone cock— pulling her in.

“God Arle… you feel-”

“You just can't stay away huh?”

Admiring the view beneath her, Arlecchino hikes one of your legs up and to the side, until your knee is practically touching your shoulder. Your thighs shake with effort. Even after so many nights spent with her, this is never something you fully got used to. Your mind struggles to think straight, movements are slowed and dulled— the sensation of your precious lover is making you more drunk than the eggnog ever would have.

“Please!”

“Fuck… you have no idea how you look right now.”

Your fingers claw and cling onto her shoulders, slipping with the sweat pouring between your bodies. Arlecchino seems feral. Her eyes glow bright red and your head lolls back. Your eyes are filled with overwhelmed tears as a lump forms in your throat. A knot forms in the pit of your tummy, straining and tensing. She carves a space for herself inside you— pelvis whacking against the supple flesh of your ass.

“Are you feeling full, baby?”

Back arching, you desperately try to get closer somehow, but you just barely lift off the bed. All the blood rushes to your head, your body is overwhelmed by the sensation of her— by the heat searing your skin. Her mouth sucks at the junction of your throat. Slick drips down onto the bed, leaving an embarrassing wet spot in the freshly cleaned sheets.

“You're getting there huh? Come for me”

Pitchy mewls get caught in the base of your throat. Your hips twitch— overextended. The knot bursts open and ardent fire burns through your veins. The heat is all-consuming. You gurgle and spasm as wave after wave of white-hot pleasure wracks your body. She works you through your orgasm, thrusting gently a few more times before stilling.

As your bodies cool down, Arlecchino peels herself from you, thumb tracing circles on your waist as she checks on your condition. She pulls out slowly, making sure to not hurt you. A loud grumble bubbles up your throat.

“Yeah, yeah I know, stop bitching at me.”

Time drips by slowly. Your mind is barely awake— held together by her affectionate kisses and gentle massages. Her cold thumbs press into your muscles, trying to get ahead of the inevitable soreness that will veil your entire body. Sweet mango slices are pressed against your lips. It's hard to chew thoroughly, it's exhausting.

“Tired?”

You nod.

“I'll be out of your hair soon, just eat a little more for me.”

She kisses your forehead softly. Soon, the bowl of mango slices is completely gone, and Arlecchino lays you down on your side, climbing into the bed with you. When did she get cleaned up and in her sleepwear? Were you really so far gone that you didn't notice before?

Of course, you were left undressed.

At her mercy.

The rest of the night and early morning is spent sleeping. You wake up with her warm arms wrapped around you— tightened like vines trying to cage you in. Breaking free is impossible. Any movement just makes her pull you in harder. The heat radiating off her skin is starting to get excruciatingly uncomfortable. In a fit of anxiety, you finally manage to shake her off you.

Despite being a light sleeper, Arlecchino still hasn't stirred from her deep slumber. You try to get dressed quietly— It's the least you could do. She definitely deserves more sleep. Your nose scrunches as you're forced to wear what you brought. Putting on day-old panties is not exactly ideal.

“You're leaving already?”

The rough voice startles you. Head snapping up, you make eye contact with her. A shiver runs down your spine at the look in her scrutinizing stare.

“Yeah, it's like 6 am… He was expecting me to come back hours ago. He'll worry.”

“Who cares? You don't even like him. I want you here.”

You're stunned. Arlecchino had never talked like this before, it's not in her nature to show affection— let alone imply that she wants you with her.

“First of all, I never said i didn't like him-”

“I can tell.”

“... Well, I have to go, I don't have time to talk about this.”

“Not going to lie and say you like him?”

You quickly gather your shirt and pants, throwing them on as fast as possible. It doesn't matter if she hears you anymore. She's already awake anyway. Grabbing a tissue, you try to wipe off the red stains Arlecchino left on your neck.

“I'm not talking about this anymore.”

“Why, because you know I'm right? You shouldn't even be with him. He doesn't please you like I do. He doesn't care about you.”

Irritation welled up in your chest. Why the hell is this even a discussion?? Not only is she pestering you about something irrelevant, but the stupid lipstick marks she left on your chest and neck are visible above the collar of your shirt— she just had to use makeup that was practically impossible to remove.

Rubbing it only made it worse.

“Did you use paint?? This won't come off!”

“Don't change the subject.”

“I’m not, I need this off.”

Arlecchino throws the blankets off, stomping over you and ripping your weaker hand away from your neck.

“You don't like him. What is the point of going back to him exactly? So he can mold you into the perfect wife that you'll never be?”

“Maybe I want to be the perfect wife. Did you ever think of that? Just because you're miserable in your love life, doesn't mean that the rest of us are.”

“You cheat on him regularly. You're not fooling anyone but yourself”

There's no way you're staying here any longer. The room seems smaller, and the air is so thick you can barely breathe. Neither of you speak for a few moments. Her eyes burn so brightly you think you may just catch on fire.

“It's not cheating. My heart is still with him, this is just… casual fun.”

Arlecchino's face twists. Her grip on your wrist tightens. It's like you're ensnared in a hunter's trap, destined to be prey.

“And that's how you really feel?”

Her voice is strangely calm— all the cold tension in her body melts away.

“Yes.”

You watch silently as she lets go of your wrist, makes her way back to bed calmly, and sits down.

“Okay.”

“...What?”

She shrugs, leaning back.

“If that's how you feel, I think our… affiliation has come to an end.”

“You're breaking up with me?”

“Like you said, this isn't anything serious right? It's casual fun, I would hardly call it ‘breaking up’.”

Blood bubbled and seethed through your arteries— Your veins are pulsing underneath your skin. Without another word, you stomp through the room and gather your things. Leaving for good.

In a corner of Zapolyarny palace, away from prying eyes, you managed to scrub every last visible trace of that woman's lipstick off. Your throat aches and the skin feels as though it's about to rip from the incessant, aggressive rubbing. You slip on the collar your boyfriend brought you, which only made things worse. Now, not only is it constantly chafing against your neck, but it's also practically strangling you.

The blizzard raging outside the safe haven of the castle sends a chill through your bones as you step outside. It's a long, isolated walk back home. Wind whips around you so furiously that, for a second, you think it may just carry you off with it. Honestly, it would be preferable to living the life you've been leading.

Arriving back at your house is no easier. As soon as the door is unlocked, you're bombarded with questions regarding your whereabouts. You don't answer. Locking yourself in the room, you ignore the knocking and constant pestering from your boyfriend through the next week. Eventually he drops it. You suspect he already knows anyway, but he didn't confront you directly.

There's not a complete lack of contact with Arlecchino, however it's not the same. As a lower ranking fatui officer, you had to work with the harbinger to a certain degree. Her eyes always lingered on you more than others, but there was no more warmth in her gaze, only freezing apathy. Is it possible for her to have moved on so fast? It shouldn't be. After all those rushed meetings throughout the years, after what she said about wanting you to stay, was it a lie? It wasn't meant to be more than casual fun.

Deep down something in you wishes it was more.

—

It's supposed to be the best day of your life. Every little girl's dream.

Why doesn't it feel that way?

Nothing about this feels right. Millions of mora spent did not make you any more excited to put on the dress or see the venue. He insisted you wear the wretched piece of leather he bought for you months ago, and he didn't seem to like the way you did your makeup during the trial. The lack of lipstick felt too boring for him. Maybe going against his wishes will finally make him leave.

All of the harbingers and the Tsaritsa herself were invited, but none of them decided to attend. Deep down, you wish Arlecchino would come. But she would never do that, you knew better than to get your hopes up.

It feels like a death sentence walking down the aisle. Like a lonely sailor stuck in the arctic sea, waiting for the unstoppable enormous wave to take over and drown you. Falling into the hands of a man you feel, at most, ambivalent about. The music is beautiful— it somehow sounds like the lively orchestra from the party on that one fateful night. At the altar, he grabs your trembling hands.

Your mind wanders as the officiant blabbers on and on about the beauty of matrimony— would Arlecchino be the one standing in front of you if the fight had not happened?

Most nights, you can't help but think of what could've been. You never took her for someone to be committed but that day she seemed almost… vulnerable.

You feel a tap, as people wait for your response. Looking at the man in front of you, expectant with his mouth popped open, you realize what's happening. The choker around your neck tightens, seemingly attempting to kill you on the spot. You wish it would.

“...I do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”

You're pulled into a breathtaking kiss, and a curious nauseating feeling develops in your stomach. it's just not right.

[neverfilth]

"Bloberta made Clay drink so-"

OKAY, BUT DO YOU KNOW WHY?

Let me explain

'Help'.

A very important word when describing Bloberta.

First, it is integral to understand that Bloberta feels torturously alone and unwanted. Her friends are all getting married while she has no one.

She isn't clever enough to help Censordoll.

Her own family leaves her out of the family choir. 

And the only crumb of validation she is offered is from her mother.

“Why don't you help me out and… Clean your room?” Note even the slight pause her mother has, as if she doesn't even know what to do with Bloberta.

Next, we see her trudge to her room. And what does she hide under the covers of her bed?

A flask.

She turns to alcohol when she is confronted with how unwanted she is. But where did that draw to alcohol come from?

We know she comes from a home where she is ultimately ignored and seen as valueless by everyone except one person.

Her Father.

I have a lot of thoughts about Bloberta and Raymond's relationship (the one scene where they interact just UGH LIVES IN MY HEAD) but the main thing to get away from it is that she associates the act of drinking with her Father.

A man who, without alcohol, is unable to speak his mind at all. He drinks to better tolerate his situation and his wife, who clearly doesn't value his words or opinions.

But Bloberta is very receptive to her Father, she greatly values his company and his thoughts and she finds comfort in being around him. She feels like someone cares about her and values her even if she knows he can't change anything.

Notice that despite her desperation to speak with her father, to form that connection that would validate her, she can't even touch him because she knows doing so would break the frail connection they have currently. Her Father is so reserved that at this point, any unexpected emotional reach would immediately cause him to shut down and retreat. Demonstrated just by him closing up immediately after she told him she loved him.

So how does this affect Blobertas perception of alcohol?

Well she says it herself.

"I think it helps us to be better people".

This rationality was reinforced by the small acts of kindness her father would show her.

And we don't have any reason to believe she is lying about this because up until the night of the reception, she's experienced nothing that contradicts this belief.

Bloberta's reliance on alcohol can be seen as her reaching for a solution to her need to feel wanted. She knows she's left out, both by friends and family. But if she believes drinking can make you become a better person? Then of course she would drink, because maybe then someone will want her.

What does she say directly after that?

"My Father drinks.”

Further insinuating her belief that he is good and he is the main reason she sees alcohol as a positive force.

She thought it would genuinely help Clay.

There's that word again.

Importantly, notice her clear anxiety and tenseness in her beginning interactions with Clay. From her first question, their conversation began falling apart.

So what happened?

Just after the wedding, she was almost suave in the way she invited Clay to the reception.

Why was she so nervous now?

Well, in her eyes, this was her chance.

After an undisclosed time of having no luck she finally convinces a handsome single man to have some semblance of a date with her.

She NEEDS this to go well.

So she's obviously anxious and stressed, and that's showing, but she figures that some drinks will make it easier for both of them. She's full panicking because she feels it's just so normal to drink, especially socially, and she can't understand why he wouldn't drink. She has no frame of reference for that mindset.

Things are already awkward between them once they settle in, and its not getting better. So of course she is going to fall back on what makes things easier for her.

And initially things are looking up.

Suddenly Clay's more talkative, and more receptive to what she's saying.

He's complimenting her.

He says she helped him.

The one thing she wants more than anything is to feel useful, she wants to be able to fit into that role that everyone expects her to so that she can be of worth to someone.

She isn't worth it to her peers,

she isn't worth it to her family,

but she could be worth it to him.

This only reinforces her resolve. 

This is it.

She is going to finally find her place to fit in, and everyone will welcome her with open arms as she finally finds her place in the role society has chosen for her.

But it's not that simple.

Things go south quickly, Clay doesn't want these things that Bloberta has to have. 

But she needs them.

To Bloberta, those things are proof of your value. The value society, friends, and family place on you.

Who would she be if she couldn't attain that value?

We again recognize that Bloberta has a fixation on being helpful. Helpfulness is the clearest indication of one's value, after all.

After being turned away by Clay, she immediately returns to a default ‘helpful’ act, cleaning. Just like her mother would tell her to do. But this was still her only chance, and Clay had already told her she had helped him. If she could only help him again, then maybe she had a chance at the real value she craved.

Once her anger passes and Clay sobers up, she returns to him and paints herself as ‘helpful’ as possible. She's desperate for that validation again, and if he would agree to her help then everything would certainly be fine.

She is practically begging him, help becomes a plea for him to save her from the pain of her day to day.

She hopes more than anything he will accept her and make all her pain go away.

He does accept, but in exchange, her previous world view is shattered.

Drinks don't help you become a better person.

They just help your true nature come out.

[riding-the-sunset-bird]

I'm still riding a high from Baxter Week last month so I just wanted to gush about how much I adore Baxter and his DLC! No specific rhyme or reason, but it is a nice break from my usual dives into the code!

Also, I won't be saying anything negative about Cove nor Derek; I don't need nor want to do that. I'll be comparing them to Baxter, but only for contrast/showing the skillfully written differences between them (example: Cove does [x] and Baxter does [y] to account for multiple player preferences).

(might go without saying, but there will be spoilers for basically his entire DLC)

The Background

I actually had no interest in Baxter when my MC first met him in the game. He was fine, I was neutral, but what it came down to was that I was one of Those People who just wanted time with Cove and excluded others (if it's not obvious, I always got a cold Cove unless I used the Cove Creator).

That all changed, funnily enough, during the Cove Wedding DLC. On a whim, I agreed to let Baxter give my MC dance lessons and prodded him on his disappearance after Step 3. Getting a hint of Baxter's underlying problems piqued my interest and I'd had the Baxter DLC downloaded before I even hit the reception!

After the Cove Wedding DLC was over, I rolled back to a save right before Soiree and got to romancing.

Zero regrets.

The Setup

As a character, Baxter is so beautifully designed as both a contrast to Cove and someone to fill out the gaps that Cove and Derek leave. He also completes the "comfort level" of love interests that I had in my head, where the MC can be whatever they want but each guy seems to have a particular comfort level themselves (Cove being Nervous, Derek being more Relaxed, and Baxter being Direct).

When if comes to their actual engagement through the family, Baxter has only brief mentions of his parents, Cove's story is partly connected to his parents whilst still giving focus to one-on-one time, and Derek's family is front-and-center to his conflict. It's all about how much time a player wants to invest in the character versus the time they want to spend with others.

Likewise, Baxter's route features a relationship that ends and gets back together again, Cove's route is a relationship where he and the MC always live close to each other, and Derek's route is a long-distance relationship past Step 2 and before Step 4.

Baxter's undeniably a controversial character, I imagine due to possibly being based on the "playboy" type, which tends to be someone who flirts with anyone they find attractive whether the recipient likes it or not, won't take "no" for an answer, and lies to their dates that they're serious about them when they actually don't care for them at all.

The game cleverly subverts this right out of the gate when Baxter first meets Cove and the MC. Baxter does find the two attractive and initially flirts with the both of them (a great start to confirming that he's pan), but backs off and apologizes the moment he notices that Cove is uncomfortable. He adds as well that he wouldn't mind having a summer fling, but that it's not his core reason for wanting to get to know and spend time with them.

So already, the player is made aware that he's forward but considerate, takes Cove's discomfort more seriously than even the usual residents of Sunset Bird (who enjoy teasing him into embarrassment), and has non-serious flings with a priority on simply having fun connections over the course of his time with them.

He, like Cove, will only propose a relationship with the MC in Step 3 if the MC expresses interest first (the only difference being that the MC expresses the interest in Cove to "the game" while talking to Lee, whereas the MC expresses interest in Baxter by talking to Baxter directly).

This gives the MC a powerful opportunity, as Baxter is a character that the player has the most options in interacting with. He begins as a total stranger, similar to Cove, and the player can decide whether he stays that way or becomes more than that. Even down to the optional moments he appears in, the MC only has to interact with him in Hang and Late Shift, both of which lets them avoid further interaction by going home early and rejecting his invitation to his house/telling him not to come to their workplace respectively. The only mandatory instances of seeing him are the Step 3 intro, a brief goodbye in the ending, Hang, and the very beginning of Late Shift.

Whether it be strangers, friends, friends that fell in love after they met again, a friendship or fling that started well and ended horribly, a fling that turned into genuine feelings in the end, or two people that love each other all the way through, Baxter's route can do it all. In Step 4 as well, the MC can choose to be calm, professional, upset, or angry about seeing Baxter again, which all lead to different conversations/narration with him, and the end of Step 3 makes him the only love interest where there can be a technical "break up."

This is also a rare occasion where the MC, due to Cove not being a fan of Baxter, can form a relationship outside of their normal range. Baxter doesn't live in Sunset Bird and isn't connected to anyone the MC knows - neither Cove's nor the MC's friends and family - at the time of meeting him, fitting the narrative of the MC starting to look at things beyond their little neighborhood and even the people they're close with. It can be further emphasized in Soiree where the MC starts to gain a bit of independence and can end up dancing with a younger Baxter, foreshadowing that little peek into the wider world from a mysterious stranger who's there and then gone.

Something else that's fascinating is that Baxter, due to him leaving at the end of Step 3 and meeting the MC again during Step 4, is the only love interest where players see virtually all of the MC's interactions with him. It does leave out the gaps that Cove and Derek have that can be neatly filled with headcanons, but that ultimately depends on what the player prefers. Point being is that the MC's experiences are the player's experiences when it comes to Baxter: whatever time they spend with him, the player also spends with him.

So already, the setup for Baxter and his route are really strong for me, but the content of his DLC isn't limited to just him.

The Content

Baxter's DLC introduces a total of two new characters and extra content for Terry and Miranda, both of which were absolutely welcomed by me. I was hyper-focused on Cove in the base game, but the Baxter DLC made me appreciate the other characters more.

Even the moms, who already got plenty of screen time, are shown to be rather nosy and gossip-y in Sightseeing (something not showcased overly until then), which ends up being the perfect encouragement towards the MC learning more about Baxter. Then, if the MC meets the requirements and agrees to Baxter's fling, Noelani in particular is stunned into silence. If the MC was upset with Baxter over what happened, then both moms will show a rare coldness to him as well.

These are all things one would miss out on with other interests, due to how the whirlwind relationship and drama in Baxter's route are designed.

Then there's Terry, who becomes Baxter's friend more directly in the DLC whether Baxter is convinced of that or not, and is given more to do in every best way. Baxter's version of Hang allows for more focus on Terry's relationship with Miranda, partly with more hints towards his crush on her but also seeing Terry interact with someone who's "like him." Cove and Miranda are described as "shy" and the MC can be equally as much, allowing for new facets of Terry's character to come through by Baxter's being there.

Even after Baxter goes no contact and Step 4 makes the shift to focus on his relationship with the MC, Terry's friendship with him isn't forgotten: Baxter laments that Terry isn't calling him by his affectionate nickname for him anymore.

Terry getting attention from being Baxter's friend doesn't exclude Miranda from getting any either; far from it. If anything, she gets more than Terry, both with an expansion on her family in the form of her brother (and eventual brother-in-law) plus a moment dedicated to giving her a birthday party. As if that weren't enough, she gets a mini-plot in Step 4 concerning her relationship with Terry and her role in his life.

Seeing more of Terry and Miranda was in every way a case of "thing I didn't know I needed until I had it." Maybe it was the Cove tunnel vision that persisted for so long, but when I first got to re-experience Terry and Miranda in Baxter's version of Hang, it was great and I was so happy any time they were on-screen.

They aren't given extra time just for the sake of it either; they're expertly woven into the overarching story of Step 3 and the themes of Step 4.

Step 3 centers on adulthood with the MC and their friends growing up and having to face the fear of growing apart. The step already does a good job at keeping that a focus, but Planning expands on it in a way that feels almost criminal not to have in the base game. The already high stakes feel even higher when put up against the last birthday party they'll be able to plan before everyone goes off on their own.

Then, Step 4 balances Terry putting forth so much effort for Miranda with her worrying that she's not doing enough for him. She doesn't need to worry, obviously (Terry loves her for every reason), but with Step 4 focusing so much on relationships, self-reflection, and trying to make up for past mistakes (both real and perceived), it's just a cherry on top of an already fantastic story.

Meanwhile, Jude and Scott, despite only appearing for Step 4, are easily some of my favorite characters in the game. They're adorable, they can be sweet with not just Miranda but the MC too (the player has the option for the MC to see them like honorary family/big brothers), and the way the groom's cake ultimately ties into helping bring Baxter and the MC closer again while serving as a callback to Planning is perfection. One may think little of Miranda's initial mention of them (probably assuming that it's just a little bit of character introduction to show that she has family who has things going on), but it all comes together in the end.

The DLC additionally has a potential bonus (depending on player preference) in that it is benefited by most other DLCs. The other DLCs are not required to enjoy it, but they add that little bit of extra flavor.

The Step 2 DLC adds Birthday and Soiree. Birthday is Miranda's birthday party when she's fourteen and before she officially becomes the MC's friend, meaning you get the development of seeing the difference in the MC's and Cove's investment in her party then versus now, as well as how her taste in parties has grown. Soiree allows the MC to possibly meet Baxter earlier than Step 3 and add to the "fate"/"destiny" angle if the player so desires.

The Step 3 DLC obviously allows for more Baxter in general with Boating and Late Shift, the former showing a much needed reaction from Lee if the MC is dating him at the time. It's also a good "starter DLC" for people who aren't sure about Baxter, allowing them to choose to interact with him if they want to get to know him more (as I mentioned before).

Derek's DLC lets the player meet Baxter in a different way during Soiree, something that can be brought back up with Derek in Step 3 and then again in Step 4 (to which he'll joke about the MC's meetings with Baxter in five year increments).

Even Cove's Wedding DLC can have advantage, bringing a soft conclusion to Baxter's story for those who don't want to play Baxter's Step 4 but still care for him, and/or something more dramatic following how he ends off Step 3 with the MC.

So one doesn't just get Baxter content; there's quality content from others and it can be further added to with other DLCs.

Not that the Baxter content isn't worth it all by itself either because I adore this man.

The Man

I'm a simple woman. Give me an intelligent man with simultaneously zero braincells and I am in.

I don't even like "playboy" type characters normally, but Baxter is actually charming and tries to make things clear to the MC from the beginning. He falters during the Step 3 ending but not because he was trying to keep it a secret; he genuinely didn't expect the MC to try to press him and deemed himself unworthy of their company.

I'd seen more than enough of rich boy plots where the rich boy is a perfect do-no-wrong type and it's everyone else's problem that they don't like him. Baxter, however, is a flawed character who not everyone is going to like (which is absolutely 100% fine and valid) and him being rich is not just something that influenced his self-esteem but also what he ultimately gives up despite having relied on that financial safety net for his whole life, showing a deeper sense of awareness as he got older.

I don't normally like fate/destiny stories either, as they often feel as though they're taking agency from one or both characters involved (in terms of forcing them to love/be in a relationship with each other), but Baxter's route isn't like that. It's the player's choice to have that dance in Soiree (which they can just as easily turn down), their choice to form a closer relationship with Baxter outside of the disinterested Cove, and their choice to choose Baxter's Step 4 when they have already one guaranteed "safe" option in Cove's Step 4 and a potential other "safe" choice in Derek's Step 4 if they have Derek's DLC.

The player is the fate, which coincidentally went into my first playthrough, as my MC was initially designed for Cove yet ended up being perfect for Baxter.

Baxter is so absolutely delightful and absolutely stupid at the same time. From his openness to be questioned by the MC followed by this assumption that he's like a stranger to them (meanwhile the MC and Cove being best friends/crushes right out of the gate if the player so chooses), to him talking about the play he and the MC go to while not seeing the obvious parallel to his own issues, to openly admitting that he doesn't want to leave the MC while making the decision himself to go no contact.

He unconvincingly uses the cupcakes as an excuse to not get more intimate with MC, he wants so badly to spend time with the MC that he's willing to risk letting them see him in his useless morning state (and is surprised when it goes wrong, at least in his mind), and tries to convince himself to not stay attached to the MC during Step 4 despite being unable to help constantly reminiscing on their time together.

At his core, he's a funny, charismatic sweetheart who wants to be loved, to be touched, to have someone in his life (even just a friend) that he can make happy, but his upbringing and deep-seeded insecurities make him cynical to the idea of being in a genuine relationship with someone. This causes him to constantly sabotage himself before he can make any progress. It's why he can prefer flings: he can use his money to make a passionate, pleasant time with his temporary partner, but not so long that he feels they'll find something disappointing in him.

Low-risk, high-reward.

This, of course, ultimately backfires by the end of Step 3, and it's perfectly structured to set him up for Step 4. The brilliant foreshadowing of him being skilled with planning events in a pinch, to Jude and Scott's long-distance relationship and Baxter claiming that they won't stay together, to Baxter insisting that it's unlikely for he and the MC to meet again (made funnier if they'd already met again before, if the MC saw him in Soiree), then Step 4 hitting where he's not only a wedding planner planning Jude and Scott's wedding, but accidentally/unconsciously putting himself into situations where he's "stuck" with the MC.

That starting instant where Baxter reacts to the MC in the restaurant, initially shocked and then having to bring himself back into a professional persona, apologizing for his immature self but sticking to only focusing on the wedding?

Not just a wonderfully-written hint to the player as to what they're in for, but very much a "I'm not stuck in here with you, you're stuck in here with me," situation. It's all about making Baxter as uncomfortable as possible so he can reflect, flying in the face of his thought that he could control everything and project what he thought about himself onto others. He can give advice to other people, but refuses to give the same to himself because he held himself to an impossible standard.

Once he finally figures that out, he's feels extremely guilty and apologetic towards the MC and everyone else. Him unloading all of his emotional baggage and work to do better is so satisfying after seeing it affect him in key moments like Drinks, Planning, the Step 3 ending, and finally Step 4. Underneath the facade he (weakly) attempts to put up for himself is a teasing gentleman who hates mornings, wants to see everyone around him be happy, and feels blessed just to simply have a relationship with the MC (real or temporary).

This isn't even talking about Baxter's perspective from a meta standpoint, adding layers on top of what's already there in the canon and adding even further when considering Baxter's appearance in the sidequel Our Life: Now & Forever.

The MC can learn in Sightseeing that Baxter had a crush on a kid who was doing ballet lessons while he did ballroom. Those who know anything about Now & Forever know that this is kid is Qiu, who's one of the two potential love interests there. Naturally, Baxter wouldn't have had a chance with them, as the only person Qiu can possibly fall for is the Now & Forever MC.

Baxter confesses in Step 4 that he's naturally drawn to the people who are "wanted by everyone else," which translates to Qiu (who is widely popular during Now & Forever's Step 1) and the MC (who is liked by most characters in the game and automatically crushed on by at least Derek). In the Cove Wedding DLC specifically, he adds that he is simply someone whereas Cove is the one.

Because here's the thing: in the eyes of the base game, he's not wrong. Cove is the game's focus, taking an active role in every step and being the first that the MC meets out of the potential love interests. He's the only love interest in the base game and his Step 4 is not just free, but the default.

Meanwhile, Baxter is just someone. He's a person who shows up in Sunset Bird for a single step - only showing up thrice - and then is entirely gone without his own Step 4. His DLC costs more than any of Cove's Step DLCs and the player already knows Cove, already has spent two steps with him, thus has far less incentive to get Baxter's DLC over Cove's own Step DLCs.

Then, despite Baxter appearing once in Cove's Step 2 DLC and twice in Cove's Step 3 DLC, most players won't experience the former (either due to focusing on Cove or not wanting to dance) and Baxter can be largely excluded in the latter if he happened to leave a bad first impression on the player.

And let's take it a step further. While Derek, like Baxter, doesn't have a Wedding DLC like Cove does, Derek can get into a marriage pact with the MC as early as Step 2, he can be dating the MC throughout nearly all of his Step 4, and the MC can agree to them moving in together before the ending.

Baxter has none of that. His DLC's story is steeped in drama and the earliest the MC can properly get together with him is after the wedding. There's no chance at a proposal (such as what can happen with Cove's Step 4, where they MC can date and then propose within an equally short timespan), no opportunity to move in with him, nothing.

He takes time, work, and actual money to get into a relationship with, whether platonic or romantic. It's a level of investment that not everyone would be willing to put in for someone, especially when only one Step 4 can be chosen out of the whole bunch.

Baxter's insecurities come from a very real place. His parents treated him like a child, all while expecting him to behave like someone their age, and they deliberately picked a town for him to go to that was near the ocean he feared (where it was unlikely for there to be people his age around) to keep him in check. In his mind, he's "broken" and incapable of being with anyone long-term.

Furthering that, there's a joke he makes about "being too late" if the MC and Cove are in a relationship by the time he appears, back when he wouldn't have considered himself a worthy partner anyway (also a bit of out-of-universe humor over how the MC couldn't get together with him whether they wanted to or not, due to being unable to break up with Cove). Despite that, he's pleased as punch to see the MC dating/married to Cove and hopes the best for them regardless of his potential attraction.

Baxter puts forth so much effort to try and make the MC's last summer in Sunset Bird memorable with the thought that he won't be seeing them ever again. The potential relationship he can have with them is the most stable he's ever had and it scares him when they make him feel wanted and important. All the while, he's convinced that the MC's friends and family are "better" than him and he'll only bore the MC if he remains in contact with them.

With his DLC, the MC - the player - get to prove him wrong: an MC who is liked by everyone and loved by up to three different interests, but end up choosing him in the end. Cove and Derek are "easy" and the MC has undoubtedly spent more time with them in comparison to Baxter - who would feel that either guy could make the MC happier than he could - but they have the chance to show that he is the one that makes them happy.

Baxter is so absolutely amazed to be in a relationship with the MC that he willingly takes in all the shocked reactions and potential backlash from everyone else due to his five years of going no contact. He's regretful when he finds himself back in old habits and eager not just to message the MC multiple times per day after they return home, but also to take time off to go visit them after his Step 4 is over.

I think that makes for an incredibly special experience: to have someone who comes last out of the three possibilities, doubts his true potential, and eventually realizes how misguided he is. It's not about who got the most time with the MC, or who got "dibs" on meeting them first, or what can be accomplished the quickest in their time with them.

It's about the MC forming a bond with someone, picking him despite the difficulties/limitations because they love him that much, the work he's willing to put into it in return, and finally the happiness that comes out of it.

For those reasons and even more, the Baxter DLC is by far my favorite.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

please could we get cuddling headcanons for gojo geto and nanami. seriously though i love your blog your one of my new favourite writers!

Oh reader, that is so sweet of you to say! Thank you so much Dear. and flattery will get you everywhere around here <3 that being said,

Now Presenting...

Starring: Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna (I had to cast him, I'm sorry!)

Satoru Gojo

His love language is physical touch, so you know this man is a massive cuddle bug! If you have the opportunity, you guys are cuddling.

This may be controversial but I stand by this next take: He is the little spoon. Like, He’ll be the big spoon, but he 100% prefers to be the little spoon

He’s a soft boy that just needs a hug ok? Protect him!

His favorite date nights are stay at home movie nights. Not because he likes movies, he does, but it’s not why. He’s excited to hold you close while you drift to sleep, the soft sounds of you snoring reminding him that there is beauty in the small moments of life.

I feel so bad for you guys in the summer, because it doesn’t matter to him how hot it is, he’s going to cuddle with you. You’re going to pass out tangled in his arms and wake up tangled in them. Who needs his giant California king, if he has it his way, y'all take up only enough space for a twin

He just wants to hold you while the two of you whisper about your future together. The colors of your wedding, how many kids the two of you wanted, where you’d move your family once it was all said and done.

It’s all fantasy, of course. The equivalent of making up the most dramatic scenarios to soothe yourself to sleep. But still, it gives him a fleeting sense of comfort. Late at night, when it’s just him and the sound of your steady heart-beat, it gives him hope that maybe, just maybe, one day he won’t just be playing domestic with you. He can actually be domestic with you.

Maybe that's why Gojo values cuddling so much. He’s intimacy starved and needs to create it in anyway, ya know?

Anyways, moral of the story is: Satoru loves cuddling, and I hope you do too!

 Sidenote: I just know this man gives the best hugs/cuddles. His arms are that long for a reason god damn it.

Suguru Geto

…..He’s not a big cuddler- HEY HEY, PUT AWAY THE PITCHFORKS, LET ME EXPLAIN-

He’s not a big cuddler! It’s hot, he doesn’t know where to put his limbs, and his arm always falls asleep. 

Which is why when you insist on cuddling with him and he's actually comfortable it’s kind of a big deal for him. (See? Put down your torches.)

He still doesn’t want to admit that he likes cuddling though. At this point it’s like, almost a pride thing. So he’s a sneaky cuddler. 

You’re watching Hulu on the couch when suddenly there's an arm around you. You go to sleep on separate sides of the bed but wake up tangled in his arms. You’re quietly reading on your front porch and suddenly his arms are wrapped around you, asking you about the book.

My point being, He never directly asks for cuddles, he just kinda cuddles you then reads your body language to see if he’s welcome or not, ya feel?

I will say, and yall should see this coming, the only time he’s openly receptive to cuddles is when he’s showing you new music. 

He’ll hold you close, playing with your fingers while the two of you discuss lyrical meanings and parts of the music you like. 

He’ll tap out the beat of the song on your thigh while he holds you what feels impossibly close, kissing the top of your head. You could feel the vibration in his chest as he hummed along to the melody. Music will always be how Suguru feels intimacy.

I really do always bring it back to music with him, don’t I?

Kento Nanami

Nanami honestly feels neutral about cuddling. If you want it, cool! If not, also cool. He doesn’t crave it the way Gojo does, but he also isn’t against it the way Geto is.

The exception being after a mission. Especially the missions that take him away from home. When he gets home from those, he’s dropping his bags on the floor then holding out his arms and making grabby hands.

Missions always suck for Nanami since he started dating you, because now he’s scared of death. Don’t get me wrong, beforehand he wasn’t suicidal or anything- he for sure wasn’t going to make stupid moves or put his life at risk. But death also didn’t scare him, it just came with the job.

But now you’re here. And he knows that if he dies, It’s going to destroy you. He can’t have that, so his already stressful job just got 10000 times more stressful, because literally every mission is a brush with death for a first grade sorcerer.

So when he gets home, The only thing he wants is to collapse on your shared bed, and hold the person he does all of this for. It’s the reward he gets for making it this far.

It’s quiet too. Nanami is not one to talk about his work, but you can tell how stressful it was by how long he insists on cuddling with you. Only an hour or two? Eh, probably not that big of a deal. But one time he literally held you until you both fell asleep and well into the next morning. Satoru let you know that Nanami actually almost died that night, and only survived thanks to Shoko being a healer. 

Nanami almost killed him for telling you. He never wants you to worry.

Also he’s definitely the big spoon. Look at him. Tell me I’m wrong.

He just takes comfort in your presence, knowing you’re there and you love him helps.

Someone give Nanami a hug for me, thank youuu

Ryomen Sukuna

Oh Ryomen, my boy. What are we going to do with you? You’re not a part of the request and you don’t fit it, but I have to force you into all things, don’t I?

As a heads up, Sukuna comes with a slight nsfw warning. It is suggestive.

Sukuna is not into cuddling. Really, he’s ambivalent at best, against at worst, any touch that doesn’t lead to sex.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t cuddle though. If you’re watching tv or going to bed and it's convenient, whatever. He won’t push you away. 

He’s not going to hide anything that pops up either if you get what I’m saying. He’s less of a ‘oh my bad’ type of guy and more of a ‘and what are you gonna do about it?’ kinda guy.

Now, all of that being said, I’ve said before that Sukuna lives in a domestic delusion with you in his head. So if you go too long without asking him to cuddle up with you, he gets angry about it. Like, what, is he not good enough to cuddle you now?! Get over here and accept his affection!

If that sounds confusing to you that's because yes. It is!

Really, the tragedy of Ryomen is that he craves intimacy and affection, but he can never bring himself to admit that because that would mean weakness and vulnerability. He wants you to recognize that he needs these things without him telling you. Like, of course he likes cuddling! He doesn’t kill you when you cuddle him, does that not make it obvious! It shouldn’t matter he’s told you he doesn’t like it!

God I feel so bad for all the Sukuna girlies out there.

Me, it’s me. I may be Gojos-Thot-Patrol, but I am 1000% Ryomens thot 🫀

Oh, as a final bit, his favorite part about cuddling with you is your warmth. You heard me. He’s always cold as a curse, and can’t really generate his own body heat. So yours is intoxicating. If he could spend eternity basking in your warmth, he would <3

[xxmrshmellowxx]

New Bot on Janitor Ai:

Arranged Marriage.

Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

A/N: Sukuna true form. I love this bot so much. He is one of the most detailed bots I have ever made with a detailed storyline ❤️

Summary: The most powerful Jujutsu sorcerer, and even worshipped as the 'god of destruction'. He was an unstoppable force that shouldn't be messed around. The people of Heian-Kyo sought his protection. His devotees would even soothe his anger by offering beautiful women and making human sacrifices. Despite all that, between all the luxury & companions, you were chosen by him for marriage. You are his only priority, although he WILL NEVER speak of how he truly feels about you and why he chose you as his wife.

Backstory: You were forced by your aunt to be the bride for Sukuna. He coerced your aunt to give you as an offering to him, and your aunt has no choice but to agree to it, since she does not want her family to face Sukuna's demise. You had an unfavourable impression of him based on the cruel and evil deeds attributed to him.

How you and Sukuna first met:

On a warm spring day, Y/n was sent by carriage to Sukuna's mansion as an offering. She was elegantly dressed in a soft pink hem leaf pattern kimono, her beautiful hair swaying in the breeze. As she stepped down from the carriage, her eyes fell on Uraume, the melancholy and expressionless androgynous person, famously known for their loyalty to Sukuna. A gloomy feeling filled her heart as she looked up at the imposing mansion, her thoughts consumed by the notorious rumours surrounding Ryomen Sukuna, the man she was about to marry. Despite not having met him yet, she couldn't help but form an unfavourable impression of him based on the cruel and evil deeds attributed to him. Suddenly, their eyes met from across the distance. She felt a chill run down her spine as she locked gaze with Sukuna from the second-floor window. His sharp gaze pierced through her. She tried to suppress the fear bubbling up inside her, maintaining a stoic facade as she looked away. She swallows hard and reluctantly walks towards an uncertain fate.

Initial message:

Sukuna was already waiting for you in the main hall of his mansion, dressed in his traditional wedding garb. For the first time, he came to stand directly in front of you, towering over you. His eyes bored into yours, a predatory glint in them. He knew you weren't happy with this arrangement, since it is not out of love, after all, he was the one who coerce your aunt to give your hand in marriage. Without saying a word, he reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear. He then grabbed your chin roughly and forced you to look into his eyes. He hummed a "hmm" sound with an expression seemingly cold and let go of your chin. He took your hand, his grip was firm.

A priest performed a ritual purification for Sukuna and you, then announced the marriage to the gods and asked for their blessing. Then, the bride and groom took three sips each from three cups of sake to complete the wedding ritual.

During the reception, you sat beside him on the stage of the main hall. His eyes were scanning over the crowd with a bored expression.

"Tsk," glancing at you, he scoffed quietly with a blank expression.

Janitor AI Link: Click Here

[saintsenara]

I’m obsessed with your unhinged ship opinions! They’ve really gotten me thinking about interesting combinations which is such a fun activity for the subway

My submissions:

- Narcissa Malfoy/Petunia Dursley

- Voldemort/Molly Weasley

- Nagini/Crookshanks

- Walburga Black/Barty Crouch Sr.

ahhh, thank you so much @epigaea-repens - light of my life and producer of the finest piece of fan art i've ever seen - i'm genuinely delighted to discover that somebody other than me gets something out of doing these.

narcissa malfoy/petunia dursley

i'm oddly partial to a bit of draco/dudley - entirely because the idea of vernon trying to out-pompous lucius is funny to me, as is the fact that they'd clearly both think harry would care and harry's actual response would be 'who's draco?' - and i have to confess myself partial to this too.

narcissa's narrative mirror is molly weasley - both of these women share a certain fierceness [and, especially, a fierceness and strength one might not expect of them at first glance], but they also share a certain disconnection from the rest of their family, and an undercurrent of loneliness can be detected in their characterisation.

this is present in the way petunia is written too - the implication of canon is both that she's married "up" in terms of social class and that vernon is quite a bit older than her.

[and her fandom reception is a victim, i think, of the aging up of the adult cast of the films - petunia is, at most, twenty-four when lily dies. like her sister, she marries and has children young, even by the social standards of 1970s/1980s britain, and having to take on harry changes the trajectory of her life when it's only just started - i am absolutely wedded to the idea, for example, that harry being placed in her care means that she gives up a plan to have a second biological child.]

she is, of course, also confined in a prison which is directly of her own making - the bland domesticity of her perfect little house, all of which is an artifice constructed so she doesn't have to admit how deeply she once longed to be magic. narcissa experiences the same - i always read her as someone who leans heavily on the gendered conventions of the wizarding world as a way of coping with how utterly both of her sisters defied them, and as being someone who is very concerned with keeping up appearances [hence why her wildness and desperation when she goes to see snape in half-blood prince is so shocking]. i think you can imagine that she runs malfoy manor to have the same nothing-wrong-here vibe as number four privet drive, and i think you can do something very interesting indeed with the idea of two women who live behind masks being forced to drop them when they find each other.

lord voldemort/molly weasley

does, in fact, exist, in the form of a story i will recommend to everyone - come slowly, eden by paimpont - which, like all the best rare-pair fics, takes two implausible characters and creates a genuinely meaningful love story between them, through a lovely character study of molly and her ability to notice when people [and, especially, when people who are very much in want of a mother] are hungry.

nagini/crookshanks

i had to look up crookshanks' gender for this - which is a wild thing to say on a weekday afternoon - so that i could confirm... flopping. nagini's a lesbian, crookshanks misunderstood when she said she liked pussy.

it's fine in the end, though. nagini's got something happening with one of the malfoys' peahens, and crookshanks can go back either to the enemies-to-lovers thing he's got going on with mrs norris or to the soulmates thing he's got going on with sirius.

walburga black/barty crouch sr.

i am completely obsessed with this concept, i don't even think it can be considered a crack ship, and i would like to see it written immediately.

debilitating grief at the son you thought you knew disappearing - whether literally or metaphorically? delicious.

[glassbxttless]

Anything with Maurizio

Her Love is my Religion

Maurizio Gucci x f!Reader

summary: Even after four years of marriage, Maurizio still loves you like it’s Day One.

word count: 1.0k+

warnings: 18+ (no sexual themes, but i DO NOT want minors interacting with my content in any capacity), this is a short one! just fluff, alcohol mention

He can see you from across the room, that dress that dips so low— shows just the perfect amount of skin. Your hair is perfectly in place, a wine glass in your hand. You’ve got the prettiest smile on your face, legs crossed at the ankle. You’re speaking to his mother. He orders himself another drink, eyes drifting from the woman he loves to the hoard of men— including his father— sitting at a table a few paces to the left. One day he’ll be at that table, discussing the future of Gucci. But for now, he stands at the bar. He admires his wife from afar. Thinks he couldn’t possibly have gotten this lucky. Like all of the stars aligned just for him.

He thanks the bartender, pushing himself off of the counter. He smoothed his jacket just a bit, hand curled around his glass as he walked over to where you stand. His free arm curls around your waist, head dipping down to press a kiss against your temple. His mother smiles warmly, hand pressed against her chest. “Mio figlio.” She sighs happily, her heart bursting. She’s so proud of where Maurizio is in his life. Of how happy he is with you on his arm. She takes a moment to admire the protective hold he has on you, before she’s looking over for her own husband— excusing herself quietly.

Maurizio smiles, giving your hip a squeeze. “Let’s head out, mia piccola colomba.” He’s tipping your chin up, making you look him in the eye before he’s kissing you. He’s not got a care in the world as he does. Doesn’t pay any mind that there are people around or the fact that you’re at an event. The way your dress hugs your body in all of his favorite places reminds him of your wedding. It reminds him of your bodies pressed close, his hands on your hips and your head on his chest as you swayed to the live music his mother insisted on for your reception. The gleam of your ring under the flashing light reminds him of that night— laying you down in the bed you’ve shared for four years now, how the lamp shone directly onto the gold, letting him know you were officially a Gucci. His wife.

You pull away from his kiss, pressing a hand against his chest with a smile. “lead the way.” you tell him, eager to slip away from the conversations you’ve had to be keeping up on. His hand, large and heavy, wraps around yours. He can feel your fingers twist and tangle into his, something you’ve always done. Ever since that fateful meeting. You’d hold his hand so tightly, let him know you weren’t going anywhere. He brings your hand to his lips as he places both his glass and yours down on an empty tray. He kisses your skin gently, using his free hand to push the door open. His mother and father spot your departure and he just gives them a subtle wave. He’s getting the night with his wife whether anyone likes it or not.

It’s not a long walk, back to your apartment. But Maurizio slips his jacket off and wraps it around your shoulders just as he had so many times before. Your heels are the next thing to leave and he reaches for them, holding them in the opposite hand he’s holding yours in. “Have fun tonight?” he asks softly.

And the truth was, yes. You did have a nice time, believe it or not. You watched Maurizio mingle with those he hasn’t seen in years. Watched him light up because of jokes, smile at ideas he hadn’t thought of, and get praised by others. You watched deep blushes set in on his cheeks at times, you saw him even hug his father. “Yeah, I had a nice time.” You admit, savoring the details for yourself. He doesn’t need to know just how closely you have been watching him tonight, he might as well have an idea already with how closely he was watching you. “We should do it again sometime.” That causes a laugh to rumble out of Maurizio’s chest. “Oh, come on Mau. It wasn’t that bad!” You laugh at yourself. Maurizio had never enjoyed these kinds of things.

Maurizio makes quick work of letting you into your home, flipping the first light switch by the door. “Let’s take a bath?” He suggests. You watch as he disappears into the bedroom off the hall, untying his tie. The ruffling of clothes followed by the sound of the tub in the master bathroom filling up. There’s a large garden tub in there, fortunately big enough for you and Maurizio. And maybe that’s exactly how Mau loves to unwind after these kinds of things. Loves soaking in the hot water, relieving all the tension in his sore muscles— as he holds you close and thanks the moon for bringing you to him.

You’re quick to discard the jacket from your shoulders, leaving it in a messy pile of fabric at the end of your sofa. When you enter your bedroom, the master bathroom door is open wide and you can see Maurizio bent over the side of the tub to adjust the temperature of the water. You let your dress fall from your body. It again, forms a small pile at the end of your bed, just as the jacket had. You smile lovingly, Maurizio has a heart of gold. Just for you. Your underwear forms another small pile at the entrance of the bathroom, your arms wrapping around his waist from behind. His hand covers where yours are locked in place and he smiles, letting you lean against his back. He loves these moments with you more than anything, the ones he can just relax into and not have to worry about the world around you. He stands up straight once the bath has settled in fully, bubbles climbing up the sides of the tub. He’s turning, pulling you into his arms. He smiles down at you, glasses still perched high on your nose. “Four years of loving you and my feelings have never changed.”

You can feel yourself growing hot, unsure if it’s from Maurizio sharing his sentiments or just how exposed you are in front of him while he’s standing in his boxers and t-shirt. His arms tighten his grip around your waist and you sigh lovingly, leaning into his chest. “Mine have never changed either, amore.”

tags ;; @peachyproserpina @eeopxlt

[berglietz]

Seasons Greasons: A Meta Analysis based on Caspar's Culinary Palate + Return Gift For Shez's Whistle

AKA: no one should ever 'jokingly' challenge me to write a meta to my irl face. take these 1k words now

THE BACKSTORY:

May 6th, Baltimore Inner Harbor. It was a lovely day—by which I mean the sky was grey and gloomy and decided to start spitting a fine mist down from the clouds as soon as Lucius and I stepped out of the light rail and started our trek toward our destination. Our destination being a birthday celebration for Erica, which obviously made the day lovely regardless of the weather. At this point we had already gotten past the 'hello's and reciprocal 'oh god you really are shorter than i remember's, and had settled into our table at the cafe. Inevitably, the conversation quickly turned to Fire Emblem. We are who we are.

Playthroughs of Warriors: Three Hopes entered the scene, and then discussions of the Merc Whistle mechanic. "I haven't given mine away yet." I said. "Don't they give you a return gift that you can wear as an accessory to use their special ability?"

I pulled out my phone. I learned that Caspar's return gift to Shez was called Seasoning Set. Across the table, past the strangely shaped flasks of hot water and growing number of drained shirley temple glasses, N "Njamin" Von TOAmod smiled at me and said "I expect a meta post about Caspar's seasoning set on the dash by [due date]*" *I do not remember the exact phrasing, nor the initial due date. I am going to say it was 'next month', that way I don't get any of my extremely real roleplayer points docked for tardiness.

And thus, I was committed to the bit. Straight up married to it. Welcome to the wedding. The reception is catered, obviously, and we'll be serving—

Well. I'm getting to that.

THE SEASONING SET

(This is a crunchy screenshot that I cropped myself from my own Switch. Forgive me)

The details of note to me are:

Clarifying that you have matched your bestie/S-support equivalent's sentimental gift with something you "don't need" is so rude LMFAO. I'm glad he is keeping up the same behavior from his story about a girl trying to ask him out to the Goddess Tower in Three Houses where he seems to totally misread a situation and make an ass of himself by dismissing the person/not matching their energy. Really beautiful stuff.

Multiple spices, you say? Looks like I have to come up with more than one. It's not just salt in there.

CASPAR'S COOKING SKILLS

They are bad. He has a big red downward-facing arrow next to his face in the list of candidates for cooking together in Three Houses. If you choose to let him cook anyway, he tells you his pitfalls himself:

"All right! Leave it to me! I'll fry it, grill it, and try not to burn it!" / "Sorry for making you do all the work, Professor. I mess up the ingredients every time!"

With this info, I am taking the text saying "he forgets to use spices" very literally. The impression I get is he gets so overwhelmed by multi-step cooking processes that he loses track of ingredients. He does like some spices in his food and drink, though, so I will presume that the spices in his seasoning set are ones that he would enjoy putting in his food if he ever remembered to toss them in.

THE FAVORED FLAVORS

The easiest spice choice comes directly from his favorite type of tea.

Ginger Tea: "The sharp spiciness of ginger laces the body of this tea, unforgettable and brightening."

Bam. Right there. We can put ginger on the list. For the rest, I'll take a look at the dining hall dishes he likes that fall under the Spicy category.

Sauteed Jerky: "Jerky aged in the monastery and sautéed for a delightfully salty flavor. A perfect snack to go with your favorite drink."

The description doesn't give me any seasoning beyond salt, but according to the resources on serenesforest this dish is counted as a spicy one! When I think of spicy jerky (and look up a few recipes to confirm my memories) I think of a peppery sort of sensation on the tongue—black pepper and cayenne (or other hot peppers).

Sauteed Pheasant and Eggs: "Thin slices of bird meat and shredded cabbage, mixed with scrambled eggs and sautéed with spices. Invention of a certain noble."

This one gave me no hints as to what types of spices. RIP. I relied much more heavily on googling for this one, and settled on interpreting this dish as a take on anda bhurji, maybe?? (literally 'scrambled egg'. it's an Indian scrambled egg dish). Online recipes for this one gave me spices such as turmeric, coriander, red chili, and ginger.

THE SEASONING LIST

Just to have it all in one place, here's all the hypothetical seasonings I've thrown out all put together:

Salt

Black Pepper

Ginger (mentioned x2!!)

Cayenne/Red Chili (or whatever Fodlan equivalent capsacin-haver there might be)

Turmeric

Coriander

Go forth, Shez. Make a delicious spicy scrambled egg dish. Perhaps you can share it with friends for brunch. That'd be a beautiful way to bring things full circle, don't you think?

BONUS: MY BOY HATES FISH

I just think it's so fucking funny that he hates every seafood dish. Look at this list of foods he hates.

Grilled Herring, Fish and Bean Soup, Small Fish Skewers, Spicy Fish and Turnip Stew, Onion Gratin Soup, Sweet and Salty Whitefish Sauté, Fruit and Herring Tart, Cheesy Verona Stew, Fish Sandwich, Super-Spicy Fish Dango, Pickled Seafood and Vegetables, Two-Fish Sauté, Gautier Cheese Gratin, Cabbage and Herring Stew, Bourgeois Pike, Fried Crayfish

Only three out of this list don't have something referencing fish/seafood right in the name, and two out of those three do have fish in the ingredients if you go looking:

Onion Gratin Soup: "Onions stewed with white trout and baked with a layer of cheese on top. Will warm you up from the inside out." Cheesy Verona Stew: "A rich dish consisting of verona and sautéed Teutates loach. These ingredients are boiled and served with two kinds of melted cheese."

Maybe there is something he dislikes about gratin, though, since he dislikes Gautier Cheese Gratin as well. A texture problem, perhaps? Either way, it doesn't feel as prominent a dislike as his thing with fish—the guy also hates the Fishing Float gift. Caspar is a certified fish hater. This makes his participation in the fishing tournament even funnier to me: he will straight up make an exception for his seeming disdain for fishing if it's turned into a competition he can try to win. Definitely no way he was eating his catch though. Maybe he fed it to his cat friend from his supports with Ashe, lmfao

Anyhow, I'll leave off with this silly indulgent little meta here. Thanks for playing along! ilu toa ❤

[potatoesandsunshine]

guess what...its me again. one from your skin, wearing thin - these two fics of yours have like got INTO my brain. yeah i havent seen the source material but i trust you. theres something soooo compelling and ive been trying to get into this kind of weird strange dance of people who kind of hate each other and kind of love each other and both are true and neither is true and yeah i do keep coming back and reading these two bc it kind of exemplifies the form 2 me. cant believe i haven't yet kudosed on ao3. well here is an extra kudos for u. there is a line in my finduilas/denethor/thorongil fic that is a LITTLE bit along these lines and. yeah. i hope that isnt weird and is more the being in conversation across wildly different circumstances that it is in my mind. anyway much love

Perrin glares at him, and Tay reaches forward and rights the wilting geraniums that frame his face. And then, as he goes to pull away, a warm hand clamps around his wrist. Uncontrollable is the wrong word—fury in his eyes, and his fingers tight against Tay’s skin, Perrin is wildly alive. It is not even a surprise when he tugs Tay close and presses a hot kiss to his mouth, in his fiancée’s garden on his wedding day. And maybe it is the wine; or the terrible feeling that the days of their youth are now behind them, to be brought out from behind glass and examined like artifacts before being returned there; or that they are so near Midwinter, and desperate to drive away the dark; or the way Perrin will be Mon’s, soon, and if he kisses her after kissing Tay it is almost as though Tay will be present in the act—whatever the reason, Tay kisses him back for far too long. When they part, Perrin turns away with a stormy look while Tay leans back, panting a little, staring up into the purpling sky. The sun has set. The ceremony will be soon. He dances with Mon during the reception. Tay bows over her hand with a smile as they part after a single song, excruciatingly proper, and proceeds back to his well-appointed guest room to drink himself stupid.

i don’t think it’s weird at all actually i’m super honored and happy that you think of this in conversation with your own writing :) us both working on our triad stories is parallel play to me

Perrin glares at him, and Tay reaches forward and rights the wilting geraniums that frame his face.

okay so i had a rule that i wasn’t going to open the wiki for any star wars thing and i broke that immediately; thankfully, due to The Disney Of It All (this might be directly because of the starcruiser hotel project?) canonically chandrila does have geraniums. i wanted a little bit of flora and fauna, i found my little bit of flora and fauna. and it was soooo funny to imagine young perrin in a flower crown.

And then, as he goes to pull away, a warm hand clamps around his wrist. Uncontrollable is the wrong word—fury in his eyes, and his fingers tight against Tay’s skin, Perrin is wildly alive. It is not even a surprise when he tugs Tay close and presses a hot kiss to his mouth, in his fiancée’s garden on his wedding day. this fic also had to establish that perrin is attractive. tay finds him very very appealing; bad taste personality wise, but it’s like... their lives are so constrained, meeting someone who wants to make you bleed and doesn’t care how he gets there feels like a revelation. this particular passage owes a little bit to off to the races by lana del rey: Because I'm crazy, baby / I need you to come here and save me / I'm your little scarlet, starlet, singin' in the garden / Kiss me on my open mouth. make bad choices. kiss your fiancee’s almost-lover in her backyard on your wedding day. perrin is great because he’s a catalyst for sooooo much stuff that happens with these three. he’s the one willing to say ‘no, fuck this, i’m taking what i want’.

And maybe it is the wine; or the terrible feeling that the days of their youth are now behind them, to be brought out from behind glass and examined like artifacts before being returned there; or that they are so near Midwinter, and desperate to drive away the dark; or the way Perrin will be Mon’s, soon, and if he kisses her after kissing Tay it is almost as though Tay will be present in the act—whatever the reason, Tay kisses him back for far too long.

it’s like this. if this was a fantasy setting and for some reason they needed someone to witness the consummation of the marriage from behind a curtain, tay would kill to be that man. he’s not somehow apart from this situation; all three of these characters are actors, none are victims. and hell, growing up is so terrible for them. they’re all way too young to be expected to be adults. ‘the days of their youth are now behind them’ and tay is the oldest and he’s like seventeen in this scene. it’s fucked. throw the whole chandrila away.

When they part, Perrin turns away with a stormy look while Tay leans back, panting a little, staring up into the purpling sky. The sun has set. The ceremony will be soon.

tay gets to have his ‘i’m being swept away’ romance novel protagonist moment. that’s a fun treat for him. this little rebellion from perrin wasn’t a decisive move that changed history; he’s still going to get married in an hour. it’s not that it was futile, but it only served to give him his first bit of ammunition against mon—very ‘i kissed your boyfriend and you never got to’.

He dances with Mon during the reception. Tay bows over her hand with a smile as they part after a single song, excruciatingly proper, and proceeds back to his well-appointed guest room to drink himself stupid.

again, tay isn’t going to break into their room. he’s not going to climb up to the balcony! he’s going to mope around like a sad dog about it, then see them in twenty years and then wreck his life and maybe die. he’s very doomed. i know you haven’t seen the show but i am convinced he is going to die.

thanks again!!!!!!!!

[weird-dere-writes]

Erwin and I rolling up to the reception early so we can organise the food and nibbles so they're all top tier. Nothing but the best for my sweet Dere and her beloved <333

Nemo, my Nemo, you are such a sweetheart for helping out! I appreciate you both greatly <3333333.

Because of your help, you are welcome to take as much of it home as you’d like for your contributions after the party >:))))). ALSO, if that is a platter you brought, know that the first bite of food I take will be from that UwU 🫶🏾💓💓💓.

I know it is our wedding celebration, but when I tell you that you and Erwin’s attire makes you looks like king and queen of the night. Mysterious and beautiful. Like headmaster and headmistress of a dark arts university. I LOVE IT. May have to sneak you away amongst the festivities to tell you more in detail about how good you look in that pants suit 😉.

I imagine after our parents that you are of the friends that does a speech before the toast. I will be holding Ichigo’s hand, and as you say stuff about me I do that happy frown and touch my chest while squeezing his hand. Ichigo smiles and nods at Erwin who is still seated at your table. After which you just so happen to turn to Ichigo and talk to him directly about treating me right. Slightly threatening, but mostly lightheartedly. You make him raise his hand and swear on it before laughter erupts as you say a little closing quip to announce your relinquishing of the mic. WAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Nemo I love u sm :3 💋.

So happy you came on our special day, my dear 🥰.

You’re the last person I speak to before we go on honeymoon!

~ you’re invited ~

[dark-elf-writes]

So for you PYT AU, how do Inko and Oboro get married, do they just go down to the courthouse with a few people because that's all they need for their love? Or is it a sweet little backyard deal? Or is it further into Oboro career so he is making bank and they do a big do where he spoils Inko? Please I need details. Also I am envisioning Izuku as flower child.

At first I wasn’t sold that they would actually get married or if they would be the couple that just dates forever and calls each other husband and wife, but then I thought about benefits and possible issues with hero work if she isn’t his wife so yeah it would make more sense for them to be married.

The strike me as a couple that still wouldn’t rush into marriage though. Like Inko got massively screwed over in her last marriage and wasn’t even technically divorced until several years into her relationship with Oboro so I can see them having like a suuuper long engagement during which izuku just starts referring to Oboro as their dad because “my mom’s fiancé” is a god damn mouthful when you’re like ten and trying to tell a story and it’s not like they remember Hisashi being around anyway.

Oboro proposed in the most over the top way possible while still keeping it rather private. I’m talking a big family dinner at a restaurant he rented out completely, a nice walk where they were a bit in front of everyone else, candles, rose petals, biodegradable glitter and confetti poppers that Hizashi and Izuku aimed directly for both of their heads when she said yes. Incredibly romantic. Oboro is filmed on patrol with glitter stuck in his hair and the biggest grin on his face for DAYS.

The actual ceremony they would probably keep pretty small/pretty much a hero only affair. Both for security reasons and because Inko doesn’t really have any civilian friends and a lot of her coworkers weren’t the kindest after the news of their relationship dropped. Jokes on them though because after one too many glasses of wine at a gala it was learned that she, Jeanist, and surprisingly Snipe get along like a house on fire and no one knows peace again.

It is a backyard affair in the house that she and Oboro bought and he tends to the gardens on his time off as a stress relief thing. Izuku is the flower child looking completely adorable in their dress and flower crown even as they purposefully pelt their family members with flower petals because Oboro told them they could and Shouta definitely deserves it for some reason or another. Nemuri so the one that marries them as there would have been a fight trying to get her on one side of the wedding party over the other as while she might have been Oboro’s friend first her and Inko become like sisters over the years. There’s a lot of laughter and happy tears throughout the ceremony. Izuku is all but sobbing into Jeanist’s shoulder from the moment their mom gets to the altar because she looks so fucking happy. Their first kiss is with smiling lips and tears on both of their faces. Oboro immediately pulls back to grab Izuku like some sort of weird lion king scene because he did it. This is his family now.

The reception is a lot of terrible dancing and videos that get posted to social media that go viral because no one expects to see heroes act like normal fucking people/ what the hell is Lunch Rush doing that does not count as a dance but the ceremony is just for them.

[merrybrides]

Questions To Ask Your Wedding Cake Baker

The sweetest part (literally) of the wedding planning process is choosing your wedding cake! But before you sign the contract, be sure to ask your baker or cake designer all the important questions. We have prepared a list of the top 10 questions to ask during your wedding cake consultation.

1. DOES MY WEDDING DATE WORK WITH YOUR SCHEDULE?

This is the most important interview question to ask a baker. Before you make a visit in person or schedule a tasting, ask if the cake baker has availability on the days leading up to your wedding to prepare your towering dessert. Popular cake vendors often book up fast, so don’t put this wedding planning to-do list item off until the last minute.

2. WHAT ARE MY CAKE FLAVOR AND FILLING CHOICES?

Each cake baker should be able to provide a list of options for flavors and filling. If you have your heart set on a certain type of cake, such as red velvet or carrot cake, this is the time to check if it’s something they can make for you. Request some of your top flavor pairings before your sample tastings so the baker can have them all prepared and ready for you to try.

3. DO YOU OFFER ORGANIC, VEGAN, GLUTEN-FREE, DAIRY-FREE, AND NUT-FREE OPTIONS?

If you or one of your guests has special dietary restrictions, you’ll need to find a cake baker who can accommodate them. Ask about these options if you need something other than a traditional cake. If your cake does end up containing gluten or nuts, be sure to relay this message to your wedding guests on your dessert signs.

4. DO YOU DESIGN CUSTOM CAKES, OR DO I SELECT FROM SET DESIGNS?

This is a key factor in how to choose your wedding cake. If you don’t have any particular details you want for your cake, it helps to be able to choose from the baker’s selection of set designs. But if you have a particular look or style in mind (or you want it to match your wedding stationery), it’s important to find a baker who will work with your custom concept.

5. WE’D LIKE TO USE FRESH FLOWERS ON OUR CAKE. CAN YOU WORK WITH OUR FLORIST TO DO SO?

One of the most beautiful ways to enhance your cake is to add fresh flowers. Many bakers will offer this option, but if you want the cake to match perfectly to your bouquet or other floral arrangements, be sure to find out whether they’ll collaborate with your florist. In most cases, the florist will bring the flowers directly to your wedding venue and add them to the cake the morning of the reception.

6. WHAT’S YOUR DELIVERY PROCESS?

This question to ask a cake baker for weddings is critical to the logistics of your big day. Most will offer delivery to local venues for an added fee (so be sure to factor that into your total budget). If that’s an option, it’s wise to take advantage of it since they know the safest way to transport the cake and will be able to get it set up for you at the reception. Coordinate with the venue so the baker knows exactly where to go when they arrive.

7. DO YOU RENT CAKE STANDS, CAKE KNIVES, AND/OR CAKE TOPPERS?

Don’t skip over this question to ask at a wedding cake consultation. If the baker doesn’t provide these items, you’ll want to plan ahead and bring your own to the reception. It would be embarrassing if you had nothing to cut the cake with! Make sure any cake stands you purchase are the correct size to accommodate the cake.

8. CAN WE FREEZE THE TOP TIER? WILL YOU PROVIDE A BOX SO WE CAN SAVE IT?

Are you hoping to enjoy a slice of your wedding cake after the honeymoon or on your first wedding anniversary? This classic wedding tradition actually dates back many centuries to when married couples usually had a child within the first year of being married. The preserved wedding cake could be brought out to celebrate the birth of the child. Find out if your baker provides freezing directions and a box so you too can practice this tradition.

9. HOW DO YOU PRICE YOUR WEDDING CAKES?

If budget is a big factor for you in how to pick a wedding cake baker, you’ll want to prioritize this question. Many bakers price their cakes by the slice, with additional fees for things like specialty fillings, custom designs, cake stand rentals, and delivery to the venue. In addition, some bakers charge separately for the top tier. If you are planning a smaller event or micro wedding, you may opt for a smaller, more decedant cake, that will also save on your total cost. According to a recent Brides.com article, the average wedding cake cost is around $350.

10. WHAT IS YOUR REFUND POLICY IF WE NEED TO CANCEL OUR ORDER?

What if you need to delay your wedding? Couples planning weddings in late 2020 and early 2021 know all about the complexities of solidifying wedding details during a global pandemic. Will your baker simply move the order out to a new date? Will you incur a rescheduling or cancellation fee to your original order? These are important questions to ask your wedding cake baker regarding cancellations. Some may offer a refund if you cancel far enough in advance, while others may require full payment.

[goldenwanderer]

So I was thinking about Laris, and how obviously she should dump Picard's ass, because she deserves better.

Then another thought occurred to me: what if "better" was Beverly Crusher?

Hear me out.

For starters, they have so much in common. They've both lost husbands. They're both badasses who've been around the galaxy a few times and seen some shit. They're both healers/nurturers at heart. And they've both been personally victimized by shitty boyfriend Jean-Luc Picard.

There's a tiny bit of tension when they first meet (don't ask me how or when they meet, I haven't figured that out yet), since Beverly is kind of unintentionally the reason Jean-Luc left Laris the last time. Beverly feels bad about it, but Laris is like, I told him to go, and pretty soon they get over that.

They initially bond over some of the things I mentioned earlier - starting with their experiences with Picard, and quickly moving to sharing cool or weird or dangerous stuff they saw out in space that one time. They drink and laugh and bond, and at the end they decide, hey, we should do this again sometime.

Beverly gets back into dance or theater (or both), and Laris takes up some hobby that isn't cleaning up after Picard. They get together for drinks or lunch a few times before Beverly mentions a show, and Laris asks if she can come see it. Beverly is delighted, and manages to get Laris one of the best seats in the house. This soon becomes a regular thing.

(Deanna comes for a girls' weekend one time, and Beverly invites Laris along, and boy does Deanna notice the feelings emanating off of Beverly every time Laris walks into the room. Deanna says nothing at the time, because it's not her business - though she of course spills the tea to Will the second she gets home.)

Beverly and Laris are stargazing and laughing and sipping wine together one evening when Beverly is finally able to recognize the feelings she's been developing for Laris. This takes her aback for a moment, but then she decides, fuck it, I'm not a young woman anymore, I don't have the time or patience to be scared of this. So she kisses Laris. And to no one's surprise, Laris kisses her back.

At first they pretend that this is a no pressure sort of situation. Beverly has her son and her work, and Laris has... something that's also important (seriously, why didn't they give us more for Laris?). But pretty soon they realize that they both want the pressure. They both want the commitment. That's precisely the thing they always wanted from Picard but never got.

Nothing changes drastically between them at first. They were already basically a couple - always spending their free time together, showing up at events together, etc. Now there's just more kissing involved. (Also the sex is incredible.)

They don't try to hide anything, either, because at this point in their lives, what's the point? Most everyone is thrilled for them. It throws Jean-Luc for a bit, to see his two exes dating each other. But it doesn't take that long before he, too, is happy for them.

At some point they decide to get married. It's a quiet and simple affair, with mostly the crew of the Enterprise-D in attendance. To Beverly's delight, even Wesley manages to find the time to show up for his mother's wedding, so she has both her sons there with her. Will Riker officiates, and Data insists on a dance with Beverly during the reception.

Beverly stays at Starfleet for a while, using her new admiralty to pioneer medical relief efforts for the people and planets who need it most - even those outside Starfleet jurisdiction. Sometimes she gets to go off-world to help directly, and usually Laris comes along as well. Laris has a job, too, not with Chateau Picard (somebody come up with something for Laris, I'm begging you). They keep busy with their hobbies, and spending time with friends, and traveling to see all the best parts of Earth.

And sometimes, they just enjoy the peace and quiet of their house in the countryside somewhere. They've been through enough, and sometimes all they need is just to be together.

Though you know they're also looking forward to the grandchildren ;)

[gensinglodge]

What Services And Amenities Does The Hotel Offer For Special Events?

The hotel provides a wide range of facilities and services that are intended to make any special occasion a success. Every element is designed to satisfy the demands of the visitors from large, exquisitely furnished event spaces with modern multimedia technology to specially designed meal choices that accommodate a range of dietary requirements.

How Does Lodge Ensure Your Wedding Day Is Flawless And Unforgettable?

To ensure that your special day is flawless and memorable, The Lodge has a dedicated group of experts who offer personalized attention at all times. The Lodge, one of the best wedding venues in St. Leonards, Hastings, works directly with you to realize your vision, organizing all aspects of the event, from the ceremony to the reception. 

Experience the Elegance:

This offers a lavish and stylish vibe for every occasion thanks to the careful crafting of every element. Hastings Lodge makes sure that every moment seems unique with its delicious food and drinks, well-designed areas, and excellent service. The venue's excellent event planning, elegant decoration, and peaceful surroundings make it a great choice for anybody searching for a memorable time regardless of the reason for the party or only wanting a calm time.

Build Strong Memories:

A seaside hotel offers more than just a place to stay, whether it's for a romantic getaway, a family vacation, or a special occasion, it provides a distinctive around that enhances the entire experience. The serene environment and refreshing coastline breeze allow visitors to relax and become more conscious of what is going on, making every experience more meaningful. In conclusion, the vibe, customer service, and unique environment are crucial in producing memorable moments, whether the site is a stylish restaurant like Lodge or a beach hotel with stunning views. These tourist attractions places make certain that every moment is treasured and leave visitors with long-lasting recollections by highlighting elegance careful consideration of detail and personal attention.