#i prefer extra fries

[the-vanir-queen]

I swear I'm about to workout 😋

Wanna join me?

[willgrahamscock]

So are you saying that if you found out a guy had a pussy you would be okay with that????

am I okay with the sun rising every morning??? my pillow being my preferred temperature?? getting extra fries with my order???

[nemxricultrix]

(my bitch ass 100% intends to make the Inness Grilly Cheese tomorrow when I get things cleaned up in my house as a TREAT. Burgers can wait grilled cheese is a god send.)

[baekuras]

also today was the first time i had to crack an uncooked egg

..... there wasn’t any shell in the finished meal

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Study Buddy pt1

Stepdad!Anakin x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: dubcon, dd/lg, PiV, unprotected sex, gen. smut, baby trapping, edging kinda?, manipulation, possessiveness, age-gap, stepcest, inappropriate relationship, praise kink, breeding kink, innocence/purity kink

Info: stepdad Anakin just adores his stepdaughter! It’s not his fault that she’s so fucking fine. Anakin is a perv but it’s okay cause he loves you, Anakin just wants the best for you! And the best for you is him, obviously. spoiled little naive brat reader but Anakin prefers you that way. Reader acts more innocent/naive than they really are. Reader is over 18

🕊 Dead dove do not eat 🕊

The one where you just need alittle extra incentive.

You sighed, taking your calculus homework into the living room. Handing Anakin the Pepsi he requested and sat down in the floor. Leaning back against the couch and setting the notebook down on the coffee table so you could get back to work.

"Good girl." He praised, his fingers brushing against your cheek from behind you. He took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"What are you working on?" His eyes trailed downwards, lingering on your body for a moment, taking the opportunity to stare at the dimples in the small of your back. He was relaxed, shirtless and in his favorite pj pants with his socked feet kicked up on the coffee table next to you.

“Calculus homework.” You grumbled. “my brain is basically fried. This shit is driving me nuts.”

You pushed the notebook away in frustration and twirled the pencil between your fingers.

“Hey. Language.” He said gruffly. “Chill out, do you want help? I’m pretty alright at math.”

“Actually, yeah that would be great.” You nodded, grumbling in frustration.

Sometimes all you needed to understand something is to see it from a different angle, maybe Anakin, your step-dad could help with that.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled softly to himself before putting out his cigarette.

Standing up to stretch his arms above his head. The dark hairs leading to the waist of his pants exposed as his shirt rode up his abdomen. He knelt down so his face was level with yours. Reaching out, he took the notebook from you and scanned the pages.

"Hmm... huh... well, let's start here," he said, pointing to a problem written in your neat handwriting. Grunting as he sat down next to you, his arms resting on his knees.

After solving the equation he helped with the next question, and you were finally starting to get the hang of it. He gave you a kiss on the cheek as a reward, a soft one that made you smile, one that said ‘I’m so proud of you!’. For the next one you got right it was an unexpected but smooth kiss to your lips.

“Daddy.” You whispered in shock at his real kiss. “We’re not supposed to do that!”

Anakin’s gaze softened as he pulled you into a comforting hug.

“Aw sweet girl, I’m sorry. I should’ve explained myself first.” He sighed.

“This is real hard work isn’t it?” He asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah it is.” You nodded.

He laughed a little. “And what do I always say when you do hard work?”

“You always tell me hard work deserves big rewards.” You grinned, thinking of all the times he’d taken you out to your favorite restaurant, to see a new movie, to buy you new things.

But your favorite rewards and treats were the ones he got you on his way home from work. Sometimes when he felt like you needed a little pick-me up, he’d stop at the store and get you a box of candy or one of those tiny little cutesy squishmallows that come in the surprise eggs.

He smiled, giving you a light squeeze just above the knee. “Exactly!”

“I’ve found a much better way to reward you my sweet girl.” He spoke in a cheerful tone in an attempt to make you smile and it was working effortlessly. “Somethin’ real special that I think you will love.”

“And it’s kisses?” You said, tilting your head to the side.

“Sometimes kisses, sometimes not.” He said, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“Well what’s the sometimes not?” You asked excitedly, what could possibly be better than kisses?

“Oh come on now.” He teased. “Treats and rewards are always better as surprises aren’t they?”

“Yeah you’re right.” You giggled.

“That's better," he cooed, satisfied by your reaction.

“Now come here, let's continue our 'lesson.'" With a gentle tug, he pulled you into the empty space between his legs, scooting your back toward him enough that he could easily rest his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

He placed the notebook back on the coffee table and leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your neck as he spoke.

“So, how about we start with some stuff you already know? Something simple to ease us back into things?" He traced slow circles on your exposed lower back with his thumb, his fingers pressing gently into the flesh of your stomach as his massive hand rested on your side.

"O-okay..." You stuttered, unable to ignore the sudden warmth spreading throughout your body.

“Alright.” He nodded, flipping through the text book until he reached the previous chapter you had been working on in class. He wrote out some equations for you to solve and quickly worked them out himself on his phone calculator before typing the answers in his notes app and telling you to get started.

Each step in the equation that you did correctly Anakin would press a tiny little barely there kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re doing real good doll-face.” He praised you quietly with his cheek pressed against yours and couldn’t help but smile when you felt him do the same.

“Just keep working hard and I’ll help when you need me to. But right now, try to work them out yourself and I’ll keep giving you sweet little reward kisses!” He said happily.

“Okay Daddy.” You smiled, leaning back against his chest and setting out to work on the next question.

He chuckled softly, pleased with your progress and willingness to please. As you finished each equation, he would whisper sweet words of encouragement followed by little kisses along your neck and shoulders. He even nibbled your earlobe a few times, which you quickly discovered had that strange butterfly effect in your tummy as well.

"Good girl, good girl," he murmured approvingly as your confidence in your work grew. "You're doing great, keep it up."

“Alright, now I’m gonna make you some new ones, they’re gonna be harder alright? Once we get these down, I’ll set up some more difficult ones and then you can try to ones you were assigned for homework. They’ll seem easy after you’ve worked so hard on these other ones!” Anakin explained as he began writing out new equations for you to solve.

He took great care in making sure to double check the answers to ensure he’d be able to properly tutor you.

After getting the first more advanced one finished correctly, Anakin started his plan to give you a new reward.

“Look at you princess, you’re doing so well!” His voice flowing soothingly as he switched from sweet chaste kisses to nibbling and sucking on your neck.

You gasped, in a state of awe at the way he could turn those chaste kisses into something warm and wet and lingering. Those silky soft lips momentarily destroying your ability to think freely.

While you were distracted, he took the opportunity to sweeten the pot. One of his calloused hands defied any pre-conceived notions that one might associate with such an attribute. One might expect a man with hands like Anakin’s; large rough palms, long fingers, overall strong and veiny, to be brutish or rough.

Though it seemed he was naturally the direct opposite. One of those big strong hands slid from it’s resting place to slip beneath the hem of your shirt. Splaying those long fingers across the expanse of your lower abdomen, pressing gently, just enough to properly feel each breath you took from the rise and fall of your tummy.

After a moment of savoring this intimacy Anakin brought that same hand up over the fabric of your shirt once more. A slow ascent to cup your breast, remaining motionless despite the twitch of his finger that exposed his want for more than a simple touch.

After the next correct answer he finally allowed that eager twitch to bloom into small deliberate circles around your nipple. Sparingly brushing his thumb over the hardened nub in order to properly appreciate and enjoy the helpless whimper that escaped your lips each time.

“Next question?” You asked quietly, Anakin only mumbling a ‘yes’ against your skin as he kept up his slow sensual neck and shoulder kisses paired with both of his now hands softly massaging your breasts and nipples. The added squeeze of his palm was almost soothing. As though he aimed to tame the warming embers of desire that lay dormant beneath your skin.

"Atta girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

"Now, let's try this one." He observed attentively while you struggled to focus on the task at hand.

He chuckled at the way you squirmed every so often and relented, now guiding you through each step while his hands continued their teasing exploration of your body.

"Almost there, I believe in you sweetheart." Somehow his words felt like the rays of afternoon summer sun that shone through the curtains. You imagined that this must be the equivalent to how your cat feels when he bathes in those rays.

“Well babydoll, this is how we’ll do your homework from now on! You’re doing so so good!” He praised you, reluctantly removing his hands from your breasts.

“You deserve alittle brain break okay?” He said, guiding your head to turn with one finger on your jaw.

Before you could speak Anakin slotted his lips against yours. His tongue swiping lightly across your bottom lip, a slight up turn of his mouth when you gasped. He gently, slowly probed your mouth with his tongue; savoring the unique flavor of you.

‘Raspberry tea and honey, yes, that’s it. That’s what she tastes like.’ He decided, locking that information away into the corner of his mind that was reserved for you. Though that corner was becoming much like the chair in the corner of your room that overflowed with clothes. A few more things stacked on top would topple the precarious pile, spilling all things you into every crack and crevice of his conscience.

Meanwhile you were currently short circuiting. The onslaught of completely foreign sensations he’d provided you with was beginning to quite literally fry your brain. You felt warm, mushy, like your brain was goo and your body was clay, ready and willing to be molded to Anakin in whatever new ways he saw fit.

He pulled back, a wide toothy grin taking over when he saw the glaze that had taken over your eyes. Those beautiful eyes, their rich color stolen away by the deep black of your pupil.

“See? You needed that huh?” He cooed, running his thumb down your jaw while we waited patiently for you to collect yourself enough to respond.

“Uh… uh huh.” You nodded slowly, your cheeks flushed and your throat feeling tight as stoked those ember-coals within you, now burning to form a red hot flame.

“Can I try something pretty girl?” He asked in that seductive whisper.

“Oh, ‘course daddy.” You breathed out, of course you’d let him. You’d let him do anything if it meant you could have more of this.

“Thank you baby.” He whispered as he gently rolled the hem of your shirt up, guiding it up and over your head.

You whimpered, the cool air hitting your burning hot flesh making a cold shiver travel up your spine. You swear you heard a little moan coming from Anakin when he finally caught a glimpse of your bare back, and you were positive you heard one when he reached around once more to massage your breasts and toy with your nipples; he was so incredibly grateful to be rid of that pesky fabric barrier, and even more grateful that you never wore a bra at home.

He squeezed and pulled your nipples gently rolling them between his fore finger and thumb. The feeling was good, warm, and tingly; somehow even better than before. Inwardly you wanted to smack him for not taking off your shirt sooner.

A low moan left your lips Anakin reacting with a light chuckle and a sloppy kiss to the under side of your jaw.

“That's it, you're doing great," He praised, his voice dripping with pride; pride at how well you were responding to him.

He was proud of the you he was slowly bringing to the surface. Teasing the little minx that hid behind your innocence, he knew it was waiting for him. Ready for him to capture and keep it, to train it to feed from his palm.

"Now, let's try this one." He suggested, showing you another equation.

Now his fingers trailed slowly down your stomach towards the top of your shorts. He paused just above them, to follow the curve of the elastic cotton waistband with featherlight fingertips.

"This one might be a bit trickier, but remember, I believe in you." He cooed.

“Okay daddy.” You nodded, breathing heavier. “If you think I can do it.”

“I do princess.” *He reassured you.

Anakin's touch became increasingly bold, his fingers making their way to your inner thighs. Leaving tingling sensation to form between your legs, you jolted for a moment, that single flame of desire growing, burning hotter and hotter.

“Lift up sweetheart.” He whispered.

“M’kay.” You squeaked, your voice feeling small.

He gently removed your shorts, a satisfied hum rumbled in his chest when you sat back down and his hand returned to its rightful place between your thighs.

His teasing touch, the torturously gentle tracing of the edges of your panties making your wetness seep through the thin material of your underwear. He continued to stimulate your nipples, and switched to the opposite side of your neck, while he changed tactics on your lower half. Two fingers pressing lightly against that dampened cotton, massaging slowly, making you squirm slightly in response.

“Oh no, is that uncomfy?” He asked gently, concern in his tone.

“Yes,” You whimpered. “all tingly.”

“It won’t be for long alright princess? Daddy’s right here to help.” He promised, his lips against your ear lobe.

“But-“ You started, wanting to complain. Wanting to ask for more; more of what? Good question and only Anakin had that answer.

He tsks, shaking his head slightly. “Finish this one up sweetheart.”

You whined in response and huffed at not getting your way. But followed instructions regardless because Anakin was always right, he was always here to help, always here to guide you, and always gave in to your wants eventually. He couldn’t stand to tell you no, he just couldn’t do it. It was like it physically pained him to see your bottom lip in a pout.

He signed and applied alittle more pressure to encourage you to get back to your work.

A few agonizing minutes later he confirmed your answer was correct, resulting in your excited and eager reaction. You turned slightly to look back at Anakin expectantly,

He grinned, rolling his eyes. He knew exactly what you were doing, you were waiting for him to deal the next card in your new game.

"Perfect job darlin’ you got it on the first try!” He praised, nuzzling into your hair to smell the warm vanilla scent of it.

He tapped your thigh and you instinctively lifted your legs up. He cooed, soothing words while slipping your panties off and lifting you into his lap. Your wet pussy pressed against the large bulge in his pants, those two fingers slipping past your pussy lips. He coated his digits in your slick, dragging them back and forth, up and down your slit.

“Is that right? Did I do that one? I feel like it’s n-not right.” You asked him for help, and when he confirmed it was correct he dipped the very tip of his middle finger in between your soaking wet folds.

“That's right, baby girl." His voice was low and husky, though alittle richer, perhaps it could be described better as darker.

"Now let's try this one together." With a slow motion, he inserted his middle finger into you fully. As you struggled with keeping your sanity, trying to hold a pencil, and trying not to cry from the overwhelming urge for more, Anakin was merely breathing heavily. Occasionally grunting as your cunt fluttered around his finger, his cock throbbing against you.

"How does that feel?" He asked, his tone dripping with satisfaction at watching you squirm and writhe under his touch.

“I- I like it daddy. It feels good.” You whined, feeling him add a second finger and stretching you a bit. It burned, but in a good way.

“That’s right baby.” Anakin nodded. “It’s supposed to feel good, and I’ll make it even better after we get alllll this silly homework done okay?”

Anakin said as you bucked lightly against his palm, chuckling when he heard a low moan escape your lips as he curled his fingers and pushed them in slowly, dragging them back out even slower. The snail’s pace was tolerable, a thousand times more satisfactory compared to his mean and teasing touches before, though they still continually added to that growing fire pit of yours.

“That's it, baby girl." He praised, adding another finger to stretch you even more.

“Daddy.” You hissed, sucking air through your teeth.

“I know darlin’ it’s okay.” He soothed. “Just sit real still.”

You sniffled, accidentally wiggling a bit too much. “S’hurting daddy.”

He began to thrust his three long digits slowly in and out of you, his hips rocking rhythmically in time with his hands movements.

“Shhh. My little princess." Anakin's voice was filled with sympathy, his fingers moving slower inside you. His thumb starting to rub circles on your sensitive nub. “Daddy’s here, just trust me.”

Your furrowed eyebrows slowly turned into an upward swoop, your anxious lip biting coming to a halt as your jaw dropped open in a silent moan.

“That’s better isn’t it doll?” Anakin asked, a low hum reverberating from him after you responded with a rapid head nod and an experimental roll of your hips.

“Much better.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, his fingers starting up that slow pace again. His thumb flicking back and forth across your puffy little clit.

“This calculus is real hard huh?” He said.

“Yeah it is.” You mumbled, meaning to sound angry, but it really just sounded like a plea.

“Gimme your hand babydoll.” He softly commands.

You let him take your hand and guide it behind you, helping you wrap your delicate fingers around the rock hard bulge in his pants.

“Daddy…” You moaned as your body responded to the feel of his cock in your hand.

“Do you know what a cock is? What it looks like? What it’s for?” He asked slowly and you giggled, nodding in response to his questions.

“Have you ever touched one?” You vehemently said no absolutely not.

“Well daddy is gonna pull out his cock, and help you settle down on it alright? We’ll go real slow and gentle; you tell me immediately if you want me to stop okay?” He explained while softly gliding his hand through your hair, while continuing his slow exploration of the warm, gummy walls of your cunt.

“Can I see?” You asked timidly.

“Of course doll. You can touch it too if you want.” He said softly, removing his fingers from your tight hole.

He took a minute to admire the creamy slick gathered on his digits before offering you one of his fingers.

“Do you wanna know what you taste like?” His voice dark and almost sinister.

You didn’t answer, just parted your lips and let the tip of your tongue hang out. He smirked and slipped his index finger past your lips and rubbed it on your tongue. Your nose scrunched up for a moment, the taste unfamiliar and strange, but it was easy to get used to.

He chuckled, removing it so that he could properly clean each finger with his lips and tongue. Sucking each digit thoroughly, moaning with his eyes fluttering closed at the first taste.

“So sweet.” He whispered.

“Hop up and turn around for me sweetheart.” He said, pinching your ass cheek playfully, just hard enough to make you yelp.

You did as requested and settled back on his thighs. His face was just as red as yours felt. His pupils dilated beyond belief, his bare chest had a thin sheen of sweat. His plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he finally got a good look at you.

He had wanted to wait. To wait until he couldn’t stand it any longer. The teasing was for him just as much as it was for you. The reward of such a long and torturous game was well and wholly worth it. To finally see you like this. Flushed and wanton, needy for his cock.

Those tits. God those fucking tits… he moaned cupping them in his hands again. They were beautiful when he could see them from behind you, looking down at them from over your shoulder. But up close and in his face? Stunning. Absolutely breathtakingly stunning.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered, entranced temporarily before he snapped out of it and realized this was not one of his sick and twisted dreams.

Oh and how he had dreamed. Night after night, waking up and having to palm his cock roughly just to get enough relief to go back to sleep, only to wake up the next morning and spend half his time in the shower fucking his fist and desperately wishing it were your tight little cunt.

This was real. He had you, completely naked, drooling and sopping wet, putty in his hands.

“Daddy is gonna make you feel so so good after your homework is done.” He smiled, dreamy and spaced out.

“Pull out my cock baby.” He encouraged, taking your wrists in each hand and helping you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Anakin's cock sprang free from his pants, standing erect and proud before your wide eyes. It was thick and veiny, slightly curved upward towards his belly button.

“Ani…” You whimpered worried about what to do, how to properly do this, if you should do this. You wanted to, needed to. But should you?

“What’re you thinking doll?” Anakin asked, his hands on either side of you running his knuckles up and down your tummy soothingly.

“Am I gonna get in trouble?” You whispered.

“What?” He asked, in confusion. “Why would you get in trouble sweetheart?”

“Well, ‘cause of this…” You mumbled.

“Babydoll.” He cooed, his thumb and forefinger pinching your chin and tilting your head back so he could look directly in your eyes. “You won’t be in trouble. I’m your stepfather right?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded.

“So that means I get to help make the rules around here doesn’t it?” He said soothingly, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah.” You nodded, a small smile beginning to form on your lips. You were beginning to see his reasoning and justification clearly.

“So it would be silly for you to get in trouble for something I said was okay wouldn’t it?” He smiled softly.

You giggled, nodding. Happy that he answered your question, amazed as always that he was so easily able to wash away your worries and concerns.

“There’s my little princess.” He cooed, rubbing his nose against yours. “Are you ready now?”

“Yes Ani.” You nodded with a smile, kneeling over his dick.

His large hand grabbing the base, holding his visibly throbbing cock steady as he slowly pushed the head against your tight entrance.

"Just relax, baby doll," He whispered in your ear, his other hand gripping your waist tightly to help guide you down his length. "Just breathe in and out slowly."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you put your arms around his neck and took comfort in the way he took control and made you feel safe even when you were so vulnerable in his arms. You were trusting him with a lot right now, the most intimate and sacred side of yourself.

“Anakin… oh gods.” You gasped in pain as he pushed in farther. He rolled his hips gently, popping your hymen, groaning when he felt that precious little thing snap.

“Shhh it’s okay, I won’t move anymore for now.” He held your hips firmly in place, allowing you to bury your face in his neck in an attempt to steady your breath as he did the same.

Your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock as he shifted, making you wince in dull pain and Anakin grunt in pleasure at the constricting tightness.

"That's a good girl," He praised, his voice hoarse as he forced himself to maintain control. "You're doing great, just relax."

His hands moved down from your hips to squeeze and support your ass cheeks. Leaning in for a kiss, letting out a questioning hum as he ever so slowly started lowering you again. You nodded, letting him know it was okay despite the prickly sensation of tears forming in your eyes.

You focused on his tongue, on his hands, on the racing of his heart beneath your palm.

"Let me know if you need me stop, okay?" He broke the kiss to lovingly ask. “I don’t want to hurt you sweetheart.”

“I will Ani.” You promised, nodded vigorously as he slowly, steadily impaled you on his cock.

“Jesus.” Anakin whined, breathy and strained as he finally bottomed out. Buried to the hilt, feeling comforted in know that you would soon adjust to his size, and he wouldn’t be hurting your poor little weeping pussy anymore.

He hated to see you in pain, and knowing he was the cause was really, really killing him. It was inevitable of course. You were gonna end up speared on his dick sooner or later, and while he was thrilled that it was sooner, he just wishes he could’ve found a way to make it alittle easier on you.

“Be real still, just relax, get used to the feeling doll.” He cooed, soothing hands running up and down your spine.

“Yes Ani.” You whined, thankful for the chance to adjust to feeling so… full.

"Now, let's finish these final problems together, okay?" He said, his voice huskier than usual as he picked up the paper with the remaining equations. “Get your mind off the hurt okay?”

You held the notebook and kept working on one of the equations while Anakin latched on to your nipples and bit down gently.

“Ah!” You yelped, wincing as his bite made you jolt, your cunt squeezing his cock. “Anakin!”

He chuckled kissing your neck and massaging your ass cheeks. “Sorry baby.”

"You know, you're doing really well," he said, his voice full of satisfaction. "I'm impressed with how quickly you've learned it all. This is definitely going to be the way I help you study from now on." Anakin smiled, kissing you softly.

“Almost done.” You whined, scribbling frantically on the page. Trying your best to sit still.

“Baby.” Anakin growled. “Stop wiggling unless you want me to start training you to hold this big fucking cock in your tight little cunt all damn day.”

“Sorry daddy! Didn’t mean too!” You sniffled. “just feels so full, I need to move.” You whimpered, biting your lip.

You were getting impatient with waiting and sick of this stupid math homework and really, really, really impatient for Anakin to help you fuck yourself on his cock.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled, slowly lifting you a little before thrusting up in again.

You sat there, spread out wide on your step daddy’s massive cock. His callous fingers rubbing tight circles on your poor little clit as he fucked you so, so slowly to stop your wriggling and squirming.

“You’re a real good teacher Ani.” You moaned, finishing up the last equation and fighting the urge to moan and cum right then and there just from that tiny bit of relief. “All done.”

Anakin's eyes lit up at your words of praise, his cock twitching inside you in response.

"That's my good girl! So smart." He praised, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in with more strength than before.

His hands gripped your ass firmly and lifted you up and down his cock until you got the hang of the movement. Slowly picking up the pace once you started a low string of moans that Anakin’s hungry mouth swallowed up in a kiss.

“Reach down and play with your clit while you bounce on my cock.” He ordered.

“yes daddy.” You squeaked in response, whining in relief as you started circling your neglected clit.

“That's it, baby girl." Anakin groaned, his hips moving faster as you found your rhythm.

"You're so fucking good at this.” He praised, his head falling back on the couch cushion.

As you got more confident in your movements he started to meet you halfway with his own thrusts, his cock hitting your G-spot relentlessly, you could feel your orgasm building up rapidly. Your moans turned into high-pitched whimpers of pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders that you gripped tightly for balance.

“I knew you’d be good,” He moaned. “your body is made for me, it’s perfect. So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Y-yeah daddy.” You whispered on the verge of orgasm. “M’feeling something.”

“Fuck. Th-that’s right doll, I told you I’d make you feel good didn’t I?” He moaned, his voice dark with possessiveness.

Anakin growled low in his throat, his grip on your asscheeks tightening almost painfully. He bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark as evidence of your sinful affair.

"You're about to cum. That’s what that feeling is darlin’ don’t fight it, just let go." He panted between erratic thrusts, his breath hot against your throat. “Once I make you cum it means you’re mine and mine only. Do you want that?”

“Yes daddy.” You agreed, slurring your words as your body tensed up. “I wanna be only yours.” You were practically drooling as you came violently around his cock, flooding his lap with your juices.

Anakin groaned loudly, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The intensity of the fact that he’d given you your first orgasm, that he’d properly and officially earned your virginity, made him feral. His cock twitched and pulsed inside you, releasing wave after wave of hot seed into your tight channel.

“God damn,” he hissed out. “such a good girl, letting me fuck this pretty little pussy full of my cum.”

You whined at his praise, grinding down on his cock when you felt the strange but good sensation of stickiness coat your walls.

"Fuck, baby doll." He panted heavily, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rode out his own climax. "God you just made me cum s-so fuckin’ hard.”

He stilled his movements and yours to catch his breath, nuzzling your neck and holding you close as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. He pulled back after a moment, looking down at your disheveled state, he grinned widely, licking his lips in satisfaction.

“Did I do good?” You asked with a wobbly lip. Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, overstimulated to the point of tears. “did I make you happy and proud daddy?”

“Oh, you did more than just make me happy and proud, baby girl." Anakin's eyes glittered with something dark, something… a little scary as he gazed down at you.

“You’re gonna make me a fine little baby momma too.” He growled, his hand reaching out to trace gentle circles on your stomach. “Aren’t you?”

Part Two (final part)

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch@cherrylooney@star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

@aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn

@illiethefairy @bunnylovesani @offthethirlwall

@slutforhayden @ausskywalker @angelsadmired

@slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie

@starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @no1klet @lethargic

@allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi

@bobtheturmpetman29 @mortalheartache

@fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot

@joshfutturmansrighthand @chaoticantihero

@vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee

@sweetcheesecakesblog@rga11 @luvskywxlker

@angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag list.

[ma1dita]

james potter x reader please!

so, in this one james and lily survive but they realize that they aren't for each other and decide to get a divorce or whatever it is in the wizarding world. so harry spends half of the week with james, and half with lily and her new partner, mary macdonald (yes, i am a marylily shipper)

so, reader is harry's new primary school teacher and baby boy loves her!

one day, james picks harry up from school and meets harry's favorite “miss pretty,”

turns out, she was in the same class as james (different house, ravenclaw preferably) but he never really noticed her bcs all he ever thought about before was quidditch, his friends, and lily evans

ooooh, harry setting his dad up with reader would be amazing!

james potter x ravenclaw!teacher!reader

wc: 1.8k

a/n: no warnings, unedited. only one ravenclaw mention; thank you for the req love! sorry for the wait

—

Harry J. Potter is undoubtedly James’ son. From his unruly hair that can only be salvaged by a thick swipe of Sleakeazys, to the glasses that slide down the tiny bridge of his nose, and more evidently as of late—the mischief that runs through his veins, there’s really no doubt that this troublemaking 6-year-old is his.

No blood magic or Muggle fraternity… ehem, paternity test needed.

So there he sits in a too-small, sunshine yellow kiddie chair in the hallway of Harry’s classroom because he’s been called in for a parent-teacher meeting. The chair part wasn’t necessary, but Harry’s playing pretend to be a waiter at a 5-star restaurant that his mommy said Lily was taking her partner Mary to. And whatever Harry says, goes for the most part (which is exactly why he’s in this chair in the first place. He could paint a picture of how red Lily’s face got over the phone when she yelled at him over their baby getting called in for misconduct).

It all must’ve been a misunderstanding, or something he’s yet to find out the reason for, such as why little Harry’s pretend Michelin star establishment has the waiter flying food over in an airplane, complete with bumbling engine noises and his arms sticking out as he runs down the hallway. 

Classy.

“H, I ordered extra fries with this burger!” James says in a ridiculously indignant voice, pretending to huff and cross his arms and he almost cracks a smile when his little one comes giggling down the way back to him, “Coming right up, Daddy!” The other, much older parents that pass by the empty hallway are less enthused, but well, James Fleamont Potter and shame don’t belong in the same sentence, much less a lifetime. 

Tiny airplane arms graze the construction paper Hungry Caterpillar that lines the hallway, painted handprints waving back at little Harry as he runs full speed, until the door opens and BOOM!

James hears laughter instead of tears so when he abruptly stands up, knocking the small yellow chair over (and the purple side table he had all his imaginary food on), albeit trying to come off nonchalant, he’s relieved. What he’s more surprised about is the pretty lady that’s whirling his boy around in her arms.

“Harry the hurricane! Just in time to mix things up and sprinkle some energy back into my day huh?”

You’re dressed in a light pink vest and a long skirt that Harry’s hanging off of like the monkey bars at the playground and you seem to think nothing of it as you stick your hand out for him to shake, “Mr. Potter, thank you for coming in!”

“Oh love, James is fine I—” “DADDY! SAY HI TO MISS PRETTY!”

Quite right, he thinks. There’s something charming about you that he finds himself trying to figure out, hair tied messily on your head, different marker stains on your hands, and a stray holographic sticker that says “What a Star!” seems to have found its way to your abdomen. He thinks that if the professors at Hogwarts were this beautiful, he’d actually spend less time in detention.

The tot is grinning ear to ear and almost bouncing as you crouch down and gently take his hands off your skirt and into your own with a velveteen smile, “What did we say, hon? When we’re inside the classroom, we use our inside voices. Soft like a warm breeze, hmm?”

“But Miss Pretty, I’m not in the classroom yet!” Harry says cheekily as he points to his light-up sneakers standing toes away from the doorway. The boy goes running in towards the back of the room to go play with the building blocks and James has to bite his tongue when he watches you pinch your nose before taking your place at the desk in the front of the room.

“Well hello then, Miss Pretty,” he says with a smirk, throwing his blazer over the back of the thankfully adult chair and rolling his shirt sleeves up as he takes a seat. It’s quiet in the room besides the sound of Harry pretending to be Godzilla on a poor imaginary city in the background.

You stare at him a bit sideways, a beat of silence occupying the space between you, and then a snort escapes you—unladylike, but oh, what a woman. 

“You don’t remember me, do you?”

He blinks. Harry’s block towers crash to the ground and it sounds like James’ hopes of this going anywhere outside the classroom, a reverberating sound that drops with his heart falling to his ass, “Say what now?”

“Dear Godric, you’re still the same as back at school!” you scoff, leaning back in your chair and kicking your legs up on the desk (that he admittedly takes a peek at, but anyways); clearing his throat he’s so sure there must be some sort of misunderstanding—how could anyone overlook someone as stunning as you?

“I should’ve known, to be honest, when a mini-me of you walked in here on the first day, oh—the look on my face, I swear Lily’s gonna get a kick of this when she comes by next week, she was worried that you were coming in and not her anyways.”

The furrow in his brow is like a faultline right now, wondering how in the hell all of this has gone wrong in the last few minutes from the door, “Don’t bother with anything that woman says,” and then you’re laughing because, “Funny, from what I remember, you bothered her no matter what she said.”

And look how that turned out 7 years and a divorce later. 

Co-parenting with Lily Evans-McDonald is not for the weak, after all.

“Why am I even here?” James says exasperatedly, eyes flickering to the ceiling and then to his son who’s doing airplane arms as he kicks down his blocks. You cross your arms almost smugly, and he hopes you don’t take offense, which he clarifies by the frazzled look on his face and the hands he runs through his hair—”Your son called me stupid in class yesterday…”

Dear Merlin.

“And he said that his daddy was the one who told him to say it.”

A wheezing noise leaves his chest and he’s in disbelief, eyes whipping between you and his darling boy and the fact that he’s smack in the middle of looking an outright fool when it comes to this parenting all because of—

“You do know I didn’t mean it like that it’s just—”

You’re grinning as he loosens his tie in a panic, “We didn’t learn the alphabet like that back in our day?”

“I MEAN WHO CHANGES THE ALPHABET SONG? Truly!” James blubbers as he tries to cover his ass and somehow he’s the one who feels like he’s in trouble with the teacher. 

Perhaps he is, though this was not the original scene he had in mind walking in here. He takes a deep breath once you give him the same look you did Harry about his inside voice and—Godric you’re good at that—”And obviously…obviously I didn’t know you were his teacher.”

“Oh? Does that make a difference, Mr. Potter?”

You’re biting down on a perfectly plump bottom lip and his eyes are still wide and he can’t do anything but laugh.

“How asinine of me. You’re a Ravenclaw if I remember, right? Used to study with Moony all the time…” James mutters like he’s discovered something monumental and then he whispers your name, and it sounds as soft as you—something unearthed and new. He likes the way it sounds coming from his mouth and by the quirk of your lip, you do too. “How could I forget you?” 

The two of you chuckle like how children share a secret and it’s all too confusing for his bundle of joy that comes bounding past the seats and pushing off his father’s lap. 

“Oof—” James wheezes as he gets the wind knocked out of him, hunching over in pain, “Careful H, holy sh—” He swallows down the rest of his thought as you raise an eyebrow at his language, instead scooping Harry into your arms and sitting him on the edge of the desk.

“Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that at Harry’s age, his brain is like a sponge—there’s a lot for him to learn and he’s obviously a lot like his daddy, so Daddy’s going to have to be more conscious of what he has to say.” 

Oh the irony.

“Daddy will then, yeah?” he chokes out, restraining himself at the joyous look on his kid’s face when Harry says, “Miss Pretty, can you be Daddy’s teacher too?”

You pat the boy’s head and pinch a chubby cheek, “He’s got a lot to learn too, right Harry? Daddy was always in detention when we were little too.”

James is stirring in his seat and feeling hot under your gaze as he watches you interact with his son. He kind of regrets letting Lily take the reins with all of Harry’s parent-teacher meetings because clearly, he’s been missing out.

“Daddy was also Head Boy, but okay.” The two of you are giggling at the disgruntled look he gives your comment and James feels outnumbered, but not in a way that bothers him. If he’s being honest, he can understand why Harry was so intent on always getting his homework done right.

A while after, you all walk towards the door and Harry’s proudly walking out with a “Dinomite!” sticker on his forehead as James and you catch up on trivial things and then…

“DADDY! YOU RUINED THE DINNER!”

Harry’s pointing at the overturned table in the hall that he seems to have missed earlier and James cringes as he feels an imminent tantrum—if you call him a hurricane wait until he starts crying like a tornado siren. But you come to the rescue and bend over to shake his shoulders, “It’s okay Harry that just means you can make Daddy dinner again!” The little one is rubbing his eyes and whining a bit more softly and his father is looking at you like you’re an angel on Earth.

“That’s our cue to go,” he laughs, squeezing your arm and shaking his head, “Wish I could bring you hom—That’s not. That didn’t come out right,” he stutters, “I mean that you’re kind of a miracle worker and clearly doing better than how I fare sometimes with him. I think we’re too alike.”

“You’re doing great and he’s an amazing kid,” you reassure him, pulling out a sticker and pressing it onto his lapel. It’s of a triceratops and says “No one tops you!” He reads it and smirks, the famous James Potter smolder coming out to play and you roll your eyes. Harry is tugging at both your hands and when you look down at him, he’s hopeful and looking at you with determination he must’ve got from his mother.

“Since Daddy’s ruined dinner would you like to teach him now Miss Pretty? He’s got a lot to learn like you said.”

You’re at a loss for words, trying to stutter your way out of this one but James thinks it’s the best idea he’s ever heard.

After all, like father, like son.

“Think I could even go for extra credit if I’m allowed, Miss Pretty.”

[internetprincess420]

what the gom+kagami like to do with you in their free time

cw:boobs mention (aomine), gn!reader, not proofread

tetsuya kuroko

- you guys take #2 to the dog park and get food to eat on the park bench

- during the holidays, you and tetsuya will volunteer at animal shelters and elderly homes

- you bring #2 to the elderly homes to let the seniors play with him

- you also bring snacks and cards for them

- tetsuya is someone i see as very nurturing and giving and i think he’s the type of person to want to give to others in his free time

- he LOVES going to cat cafes

- however, he also sees your time alone as important too

- you guys will have all day movie marathons at home

- you and tetsuya like to go to the library together and help tutor the young kids

ryota kise

- i think ryotas favorite thing to do in his off time is to go to the arcade with you

- it’s canon that he uses his perfect copy in games like ddr, so i think he likes to challenge you in ddr battles and karaoke sing-offs

- he also loves the arcades that serve food and will always order fried pickles or cheese fries with something ridiculous to drink like a seasonal mountain dew or root beer (root beer hater for LIFE)

- his default karaoke song is definitely it’s a wrap by mariah carey

- i like the think he frequents the arcade so much that the employees know him by name

- i also think he likes to take you to the mall and just walk around

- he also LOVES to gossip when you guys are walking around and see people from school

- “y/n you won’t believe what i heard about that guy..”

- and he definitely says it way too loud too

daiki aomine

- the way to his heart is through his stomach (and your chest)

- i fully believe and support the theory that his perfect day off is going to eat some junk and having his head in between your breasts

- daiki is quite chill and easy going, so i think he prefers to spend his off time at home on the couch rather than doing anything that requires any thinking on his part

- if you order some burgers and put on a cheesy anime he will probably never want to leave

- however, if you want to go out and do something he is more than willing to go to make you happy

- i don’t think he’d protest, but i do think he’d say something like “are you sure you want to go out? the couch is so comfy and we can cuddle~~~~”

- if he does have to go out, he likes to go to the movie theatre with you

- tries to squeeze your tits in the dark cinema 😭

- i believe daiki hates spending money but loves to spend money if it’s on you

seijuro akashi

- it’s canon that seijuro does horse riding and likes to do it on his days off so i think that he would love to teach you to ride horses and ride together

- we all know seijuro is extra af so i also think he’d get you the best riding gear and equipment, as well as the best lessons money can buy

- once you finally know how to properly ride horses, he would love to just ride out in the country together

- he loves a good opportunity to spend quality time with you and talk to you at the same time

- he would bring food for a picnic out in the country side

- he loves to hear you talk, so tell him about anything and everything and he will be entertained

- seijuro also loves to go on light walks/jogs with you

- i genuinely think his love language is quality time don’t ask me why it just is

shintaro midorima

- shintaros favorite thing to do with you is to go to the shops and browse

- this might also be a stretch, but i think shintaro likes to travel with you

- like not far but just small day trips that are a couple of hours away

- he loves to go to the spas and sit in saunas with you

- shintaro is a guy that puts self care first for both of you

- after the spa day, you guys go to whatever little local gift shops you can find and just look around all day

- i also think shintaro likes you buy you things, but more specifically he likes to buy you something special from every place you’ve been together

- when you guys get home he’s a straight to bed and cuddle kind of guy

atsushi murasakibara

- he prefers to be in the comfort of his or your home on his days off

- i think that because he’s so big and his body uses so much energy all the time he would want to do something where he can rest his body

- thus his favorite thing to do with you in his off time is sleep

- that’s it

- just sleep

- i think he prefers to go to your house and sleep only because his family is so big

- and he likes the way your sheets smell

- i think if you know he’s going to come over then you go the extra mile

- i’m talking matching pjs, lavender scented everything, sleep masks, candles, etc

- and ofc his favorite snacks

- if he HAS to do something, he will bake or cook with you

taiga kagami

- his favorite activity to do with you in his free time is to go to whatever beach is near and have a beach day

- first he likes to see you in a bikini (or whatever you prefer to wear)

- (yes i canon taiga as a secret horndog what about it..)

- he also wants to get burgers after

- he loves to build sand castles with you but he always messes them up on accident

- don’t talk for him for at least 10 minutes after he destroys it. he’s so sad.

- he makes you take pics of him surfing to post

- “no please y/n it’s gonna look so cool please”

- taiga is one of those people that intentionally scares kids at the beach by like randomly chasing them and barking

[markatoto]

fan of breasts?

chicken breasts? yeah! they are, maybe & arguably, one of the most delicious part of the chicken. well, maybe next to drumsticks (which i personally prefer for things like fried chicken, or soups). in particular, i like to use chicken breasts for making katsu, which, lemme tell ya, i'm no expert cook, but id like to think that i do a pretty good job.

matter of fact, if you want an extremely simple recipe, here's how i personally make chicken katsu (all off the top of my head, so some slight details might be missing, so please bear with me):

you'll need a few ingredients

panko (any sort of breadcrumbs will work, but panko is just the brand i use)

cookin' oil (usually simple vegtable oil will work)

the actual chicken breast, of course

the ol' traditional: salt and pepper

one egg (u dont need any more than one egg, typically)

if u wanna make things extra crunchy, having some corn starch mixed in with garlic powder + onion powder for some extra seasoning. maybe even a scoosh of paprika for that yummy (i personally like using this filipino chicken mixture called "crispy fry", which is usually used for fried chicken, but it works here too. it's usually meant for fried chicken drumstick, but what is katsu but a different kind of fried chicken)

anyways, here's how u wanna do things:

take out your chicken breast, pat it down with a paper towel so that it aint wet on the surface and either: slice it so that the chicken breast is about inch and a quarter (or so) thick OR use a mallet to make it around that thickness. youll want your chicken flat as possible, but not too flat! i think you know what i mean.

salt and peppa that mothafucka, both sides (OPTIONAL STEP 2B: it's at this point id probably mix my chicken breast with the starch mixture/crispy fry. it just gives a lil extra flavour and crunch that i enjoy. but this is just me, u dont really gotta do it)

crack open an egg and put it in a bowl. MIX IT UP

put your flattened (and maybe crispy fry seasoned) chicken in the egg. get it drenched, you want that panko to stick to that shit

what i like to do is i like to put panko in a plastic container with a lid, then i put the chicken in the container, close the lid up and just SHAKE it so that its nice and evenly coated. super simple and fun and WAY cleaner to deal with after the fact LOL

pop your oil in your pan. put in generous amount, enough that your chicken wont necessarily be drowning, but enough that your chicken will be sufficiently fried. heat that up until the oil reaches that perfect temperature of around 350'F (that is THE temp for doing any deep frying)

pop your chicken on the pan and leave it frying on the one side for, id say, approximately 4-5 minutes. youre going to have to keep a close watch on it. make sure that panko is that GOOD crispy brown on each side. over all it should take you like…. 7-9 minutes for your katsu to be done.

BEFORE YOU EAT... make sure the internal temp of the chicken is around 160 - 165'F. if it is, it's good to go. take it out and, what i like to do is get a plate and pop on a paper towel to let the katsu dry off all the excess oil. even though its off the pan, that shit is STILL cookin, so youll want to leave it alone for like… a minute or two. plus if you eat it now you'll totally burn your tongue and that's the WORST feeling in the world

and after all that, your katsu is done! get some jasmine (white) rice, put on some katsu sauce and some japanese mayo with a lil bit of furikake for that slight seaweed flavoring and youll be GOOD to go!!

so yeah, i guess you can say i'm a fan of breasts.

[melliemell]

HEYA GUESS WHOS BACK~

THE FIC U WROTE W THE POCKY PROMPT WAS SO GOOD LIKE ONG?? SOO NOW IM BACK FOR MORE >:)

IM THINKING.. CHRISTMAS THEMED DATES!! COZ ITS THE XMAS SEASON WOULD THEY HAVE ANY CUTE DATES U NORMALLY CANT HAVE IN THE SUMMER? (EXAMPLE; ICE SKATING) (also I’d prefer if u wrote for Dazai and Ranpo again i cannot get enough of those idiots 🙏🙏🙏) THX IN ADVANCE~ -Annon who still hasn’t found their glasses… seriously where are they😭😭

Omg hi again!! I'll have you know I've been listening to Christmas songs on repeat as I wrote this. My brain is fried and so ready for the Holidays. I blame u for this.

And please don't go around blind like that, I pray for you and your glasses, nonnie

BSD Cast ft. Christmas Dates

(Dazai, Ranpo, Fyodor, Sigma, Chuuya, Atsushi)

Dazai - Drunk Decorating

“Whaat? Gimme the unicorn here, I have a feeling about this.”

And you’d watch in horror, giggles bubbling out of your lips as the dumbass would duck-tape the poor plush to your Christmas tree, eyes sparkling with child’s delight. The alcohol swirling about in both your veins would’ve started manifesting at some point during the evening, all according to Dazai’s precise calculations. Totally.

If there was one thing Dazai was good at, it was being unconventional. Decorating for Christmas while being drunk off your asses was not on your to-do list, but boy does it leave an impactful memory. Nobody remembers whose idea it was. Most of the night consisted of snippets of hyper-intense clarity… followed by what the actual fuck random scraps of memory. 

Did we really snatch the Agency’s decorations from reception? Of course not, duh. Why is Ranpo’s overcoat hanging from our Christmas tree? How mysterious. You’d be giggling uncontrollably at everything as the night progressed.

You’ve never struggled so hard for your life as when you had to outrun Dazai’s lanky frame, his sticky fingers at the ready to steal whatever shiny ornament you fought tooth and nail to secure. All efforts would end up futile though. Especially when you’d find yourself barely keeping your balance atop Dazai’s shoulders with no clue as to how he managed that.

With tape in one hand and his encouraging instructions as your guide…

Your ceiling had never looked this sparkly and hideous.

Get prepared for an intense hangover and even clingier Dazai the next morning. He will not, under any circumstances, let you leave him alone for the whole day. Suffering together is an act of love, after all.

Ranpo - Snowball Fight

The moment the first snow hit, it would be like a switch had turned on in Ranpo’s behaviour. He’d be used to your antics by now so being extra aware of his surroundings–just in case–was a mandatory tactic for survival on his part. Especially the more it snowed…

You knew how much Ranpo loved being coddled and cuddled all the time, so it came as no surprise his complete despise of cold weather, the sensation of freezing in wet clothes making him shudder in distaste. 

He always had a grumpy face on, cheeks flushed and lips pouting as you waddled through the snow every time you had to leave home. 

He was adorable… and completely at your mercy.

You both knew what was to come. The first snowball would barely scrape his hat, Ranpo’s body spinning around quickly to face you, eyes betrayed. 

“Aw, come on! I knew it.”

He’d whine a lot, making you giggle even more as you prepared for the upcoming battle.

Ranpo’s not a very agile person, but his observation skills combined with years of practice being with you made him nearly impossible to hit, dodging like his actual life depended on it. There was no mercy for you either, taking every hit with pride as you chased each other down the snowed path. 

It would go on until you were both freezing, you grinning like a lunatic and Ranpo’s face of defeat bordering on exasperation. He’d absolutely not like you tackling him down on the snow either, hair soaking and nose as red as it could get. Shame he looked so cute like that; it’s not like you could help it.

Get prepared for extra snuggles as you get back home. That and Ranpo’s cold feet being shoved against your calves the moment he had you locked in an unassuming hug. 

Sweet, sweet revenge, here it comes.

Fyodor - Ice Skating

Fyodor’s not a very social person if he could help it. Spending quality time in a quiet, peaceful place was more down his alley than being jammed up beside people, most of whom were probably barely able to stay on their skates to begin with. An unpleasant hassle, in his opinion.

It would take some convincing and a good dose of bribing before you had him sighing in defeat, your hands interlocked as you towed him along to the skating rink. 

Of course the bastard knew how to skate. Of course. 

Very careful around you, and absolutely refusing to hold onto your hand until you got the hang of how to balance properly. Ungodly amount of patience, even if you caught a whiff of annoyance from him here and there– it was mostly directed towards people veering too close for your comfort, making you clutch harder to the railings, your progress forgotten every time. 

A surprisingly encouraging teacher, with praise where praise was due. Yet strict enough for it to feel more like a coaching session than an actual date. That is, until you figured out how to glide your skates without support, smile wide and exited as it matched Fyodor’s content nod of approval. 

Hands interlocked as he pulled you along, the fun of it engulfed you more as your worry slowly dissipated. Dragging Fyodor to the centre of the ring on wobbly legs was harder than expected, but the sappy kiss you managed to pry out of him was all worth it. 

There was something about silly little romantic moments like those that melted your heart on the spot. And having Fyodor pull you flush against him, hands cupping your cheeks as he rubbed some warmth into them–yeah, you could only look at his lovely violet eyes, your gaze filling with affection.

Sigma - Christmas Shopping

You know how a cat looks when it gets excited to see its human get back? No? It’s the exact same thing with Sigma. 

He’d be all swirling emotions and anticipation on the inside, yet barely any signs of it slipping through his demeanor of collected calmness. You might even mistake it for indifference for all the Christmas shopping you have to do. Maybe even a chore that needs to be done than a fun activity for you two.

You’d be so wrong. 

Christmas is a family holiday; the time of year you spend with your loved ones. At home. He’ll be home, with you. And he has to choose whether orange or red garlands would go best with your kitchen curtains. Sigma’s this close to losing it and having a full breakdown from how happy he actually is that Sigma.exe has stopped working properly. 

Constant battle between being happy with whatever you choose to buy, and the internal desire for everything to be perfect. He has to give you the best Christmas you’ve ever had. Would absolutely go crazy on the shopping lists. You mentioned something offhand that you liked? There’s three of it waiting for you the next day. Can’t choose on a tree? Why, you can have one in the living room, and one for your bedroom too. He’ll take care of it, don’t you worry about anything.

Sweats the whole time as he tries to take care of it all.

Absolutely needs reminders that you’re in this together, and no, you being there with me is enough, Sigma. I don’t care for anything else. Refuses to let go of your hand anywhere you go, basking in the warm feeling of being loved to the fullest.

Chuuya - Cabin Getaway

Absolutely his idea. 

As absurdly far away from the city as you could get, deep in the mountains with the most beautiful view that steals your breath away. You’re afraid to ask how much it cost. Better not. 

Warm blankets with and a fireplace to snuggle by, any ambitions for trying your skills at setting up dinner were soon forgotten. Not when Chuuya’s chest was firm against your back, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders. You were practically melting into him, losing yourself in his warm breath beside your cheek, the deep, low tone he talked with as you enjoyed each other’s company. He was so full of passion usually, the emotions spilling out of him in a constant stream of need for action. 

Not now. Now Chuuya was… here. All soft smiles and light laughter as he poured more wine into your glasses as the night progressed. Talking about life and its meaning, enjoying the moments to the fullest. Having his arm thrown around you as he kept you close was a bliss you never wished to end.

The night was long and filled with a sense of being right where you were meant to be. And when you rose up, pulling Chuuya by the hand as hooded eyes met yours, his grin widening–you found yourself kissing him then. And you didn’t stop until you were both stumbling back to the bedroom, your clothes leaving a trail behind you.

He was all yours for the taking, warm and willing for your every whim. Such a lovely place he found, it’d be a shame not to have a bit of fun… everywhere. 

Finding your clothes in the morning was definitely a hassle, one both of you couldn’t stop laughing about even as Chuuya’s hat definitely wasn’t supposed to be hanging from the chandelier.

Atsushi - Sledge Date

It was an idea you’ve both had for a while. Neither one of you knew how to navigate a thing like that, but hey–it was happening.

Atsushi swears he did not steal a sledge. He only asked Dazai if he had one by chance, and he was so kind to offer it half an hour later, all wide grins and wiggling eyebrows. You’ve never seen Dazai own a thing like that, let alone have it at such a quick disposal. Maybe it was best not to ponder too much over it.

The moment you saw the hill you were meant to glide gracefully down from, you stomach did a double flip. Yeah, you were both going to die, this was not the cute little slide rides you had imagined. 

It took Atsushi some encouraging words and a promise to not let go of you no matter what, and you were gingerly sitting behind him, hands gripping firmly around his torse as you glued your stiff body to his back. His hand rested atop your own, warm and soothing as he rubbed your knuckles.

Atsushi was surprisingly calm about this. Maybe he felt your need for a secure presence beside you or he just naturally took on the role. It didn’t matter, really. Not when he didn’t shut up the entire time, whether it be panicked rambling as you slid down or his general chatter. 

Atsushi kept throwing glances behind him, checking in on you each time you went down. And he held your hand firmly as you groaned from having to climb back up every time. His attentiveness was cute, even more so every time he asked you how you felt. Knowing you had someone who didn’t get annoyed at your complaints or belittled your worries felt… nice. Yeah, really nice. 

You couldn’t wait to shower him in kisses once you got back home.

[diejager]

We need more Dark!Captain Price please!!

Behave, Love

Pairing: Dark! Captain John Price x fem!reader

Cw: implied smut, DARK, IMPLIED NON-CON, possessive behaviour, kidnapping, kinda Stockholm syndrome, captive reader, mean Price, punishment, basement wife?, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 2.6k

“We have guests tonight, love,” he told you this morning before leaving.

That was a warning, the only one you needed to understand what you were told - ordered - to do. You spent the morning cleaning up, wiping off the nonexistent dust from the shelves, washing off the clean tables and surfaces around the house that you’d cleaned yesterday after he called to tell you that he was coming home. The following hours were spent vacuuming the wooden floor and mopping up any nano-spill of some kind. Only after the long hours you took to clean every speck of dust in your shared home, did you start cooking.

Price was a simple man in the things he liked, he might’ve been strategic in his plays and his decisions, down to the smallest aspects of each mission, or preferring his gun or knives maintained in a specific way that was his only, but anything at home, he liked simple. Perhaps it was a blessing for you, never spending time learning how to cook or bake, your training took up all your time and any free time you had was spent resting or on extra training. He liked well-rounded meals, having meat, vegetables and a bit of spice on his plate with rice or fries on the side.

You dread the moments he leaves as much as the giggle of the knob, leaving meant that he’d be watching you remotely, from the small screen of his phone with alarms and countermeasures against your escape - to which you’ve tried and failed many times, the severity of his punishment racking up from an hour in the dark basement to being tied up and tortured to overstimulation of a fake cock moulded to replicate Price’s cock - and his return would leave you at the mercy of his prying eyes and hungry mouth, letting his hands trace the scars that littered your skin. Any sign of disgust: shuddering, flinching or freezing would get you some time in the basement. 

He pulled you from years of training, the result of your blood sweat and tears gone with the flick of Price’s wrist. He had you discharged and had you move in with him - how fortunate you’ve been living on base without an apartment outside of the compound, you saw no use for it if you’d rarely be home - even though you fought against him, tooth and nail. Yet that only landed you in time out - or so he called it. 

“We’re going to get married, love,” he told you, a bright smile hidden under his beard, a wishful gleam in his eyes. 

You weren’t only getting married, you were signing off your body and soul to your captor to become a glorified housewife. From a private to a housewife, how saddening, you couldn’t help that self-deprecating attitude rather than the confidence and strength that were beaten into you during training. 

Any connection to the outside world was cut off, Price made sure that you wouldn’t have any way to contact your family without his supervision - he had you call them once a month to reassure them that you were safe and happy with your new life - or the authorities, not that they’d listen to you with The Captain John Price and his decorated background. Granted, you had a TV to entertain yourself in moments of boredom or the book-filled wall in the living room, even a few recreational activities he wanted you to practise: knitting, sewing, cooking and baking.

Naturally, you turned to cooking and baking as a way to pass the time, leaving the radio or the TV on as background noise to fill the depressing atmosphere. With time, you’d grown more comfortable in the kitchen and Price could trust you with more complicated dishes, even being excited to eat a homemade dinner when he came home. He liked meat, so you read about different meaty dishes - especially with the notion of the other coming over for the afternoon - with good portions of vegetables. 

You moved around the island, setting the table with plates and cups, knives, spoons and forks on the sides with a bowl of fries in the middle. The steaks were almost done, sizzling besides the warm sauce you were boiling after cracking the can. The beans and mashed potato were already set on each plate, waiting for the juicy meat and sauce you worked on, hoping that you’d be finished on time for Price to get home. You hoped Price would be nicer to you while the men ate, nothing too rash or possessive from him during their stay.

The lock clicked as you placed the final piece, the rattle of keys and the familiar steps of Price’s heeled shoes were - unless you missed his soft “I’m home, love.” - the usual sounds you’d hear when he came home, the only indications that you were never truly able to relax.

“Welcome home, John,” you returned, greeting him with a small kiss on the corner of his lips, his bushy beard irritating your cheeks. 

He leaned down, chasing you for a second, deeper kiss, his teeth catching your lower lip before he moved aside to let his coworkers enter. 

“Ma’am,” Gaz jumped in, lowering his cap in a mock bow to you.

Being called ma’am made you feel old and married. While you were married, you were a year or two younger than him with him having an authority over you on base. You didn’t necessarily know him before your discharge, only catching a few glances when either of you were passing through the gym or shooting range, or when you crossed paths in the halls or mess hall. Perhaps in another universe, you would’ve been friends or teammates by chance. You swallowed down a sigh that threatened to slip from your pursed lips.

Soap followed closely behind Gaz with a boisterous greeting of his own, his smile infectious and giddy. How couldn’t you smile back at him when he seemed so happy to be here, you couldn’t bear to break his heart, his puppy-like joy. You shook his hands, they were as firm as the last time, his fingers more calloused and harder on the tips from the many deployments between their last visit. Ghost was a step behind everyone, giving you a quick but welcoming nod, his eyes softening at the dark bags under your eyes. 

“Come in, I was just about finished.”

Without so much of a complaint, they sat down, watching you pour the brown sauce over their plate. Price - as always - sat at the head of the table, watching you and his team from his vantage point. Ghost sat to his left with Soap beside him and Gaz on the opposite from him, taking the seat to your right. The seat to Price’s right was always reserved to you whenever you were present, a rule he imposed himself. He could easily hold your hand while it rested on the table, he could sneakily place his firm hand on your thigh, or he could send you a quiet message through the corner of his eye, something so discreet that not even Ghost noticed.

Dinner with 141 was always animated, with Soap and Gaz throwing jabs at each other and Ghost jumping in with a few jokes of his own - though they were the usual dark and morbid humour that he thrived on - while Price watched over it all, a proud smile adorning his face as his thumb brushed your knuckles. You could see the fatherly joy in his eyes whenever everyone was at the table, this joy that almost made you happy that you were part of this small family - almost. You couldn’t forget the pain and harrowing sadness that clouded your mind every day, Price’s influence on your life becoming the looming shadow that kept you locked away from the freeing sun.

“It was tidy, bonnie!” Soap thanked you, collecting the plates while the rest helped around.

“Thank you, Johnny.”

While you washed the dishes, burly arms reached around your waist and locked fingers, pushing his chest to meet your back. He hummed a comforting tune, peppering your neck and shoulder with kisses, playing the loving and caring husband he was to the rest of the world. Laying his head on your shoulder, he was content with watching you work, ears listening to the chatter in the room and your beating heart, a calm and soft beat that soothed his nerves. 

“A right delight,” Price breathed out, hips swaying side to side in a drawl dance, rocking you along with him. 

He pressed his lips to your ear, mumbling praises for your behaviour and playing the husband he wanted to be - was. He was gentler with you, his strong arms holding you lovingly and expressing his devoted obsession with you with kisses and whispers. It was a side you saw often, Price being the ever-loving man he vowed to give you on the day of your marriage, the other one was the possessive and obsessive man who wanted your everything, your mind, body and soul. That side of him was given to you when you misbehaved, when you did something to displease him or when he deemed you worthy of punishment.

The other rarely saw their captain acting so soft and loving, even toward them, his little, ragtag of a team. Although it was something to be proud of, unendingly happy because at least one of them finally settled down, who were they if they couldn’t jab at Price, just a bit.

“Growing old, Cap’? You look like a romantic sap,” Gaz snickered, watching Price narrow his eyes in mocked anger through squinted eyes.

“Aye, I dinnae yer were a bodach,” Soap elbowed Gaz, failing to hold back his cackle, head tilted back and arms around his abdomen.

“English, Johnny.”

Price huffed, shoulders shaking with his own laughter.

“Oh, sod off,” he spat, lips stretched in a snarky smile. “Am I an old sap, love?” 

He clung to you, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt

“ ‘Course not, John. Maybe romantic, but not old.”

Calling him old wouldn’t do him or you any good, especially since you were married to him, a man over a decade older than you; and calling him romantic would be a lie thrown to the face, at least to you. Price would call himself a romantic man and preen about his rugged, yet gentlemanly character, his hands calloused and loving, his mouth praising and biting, his eyes ravaging and devoted, his acts protective and possessive. How Price would proclaim himself as the perfect husband - he said he was the day he dropped you the discharge letter - and how lucky you were to wound yourself with him rather than any boy your age. 

Price chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back as he tightened his hold around you. He liked your reply, that wide smile pressed to your throat with nipping kisses made you aware of his joy. You rocked back against him, dancing along the lazy sway of his hips, you were catering to his whims to stay safe and alive. His training wasn't for nothing, carved into the seams of your mind with every thrust of his cock or the silicone mimic of his cock. You learned quickly that if Jonathan Price was happy, you’d be safe and unharmed, so you aimed to please him and keep him happy.

If it meant playing the reciprocating and happily married wife to their captain, you’d do that. There wasn’t any loss of dignity and pride in wanting to feel safe, wanting to ignore how his hands gripped you too firmly or how your skin was littered with painful bruises after a rough night. To the Task Force, you were a willingly discharged soldier who became a housewife for their hardworking captain and your loving husband. The gold band carved with curved and intricate words added to the illusion of your perfect life. 

It made you want to scream and pull your hair out at how trusting they were of Price. All and any man had his darkness, that ugly need buried under the mass of duty and morality that made them who they were, but if let loose, they could be like Price, another monster wearing the skin of a man.

You couldn’t help squinting your eyes in a silent plea to the men, watching them drink and laugh merrily without a fault. Being a witness to their bountiful smile and full-bellied laughter when you were glued to your captor by the hip, his arm looped around your waist, pulling you to him. Laying your head on his shoulder as the bottle of whiskey grew lighter and lighter over time, the golden liquid rolling down their throat with a comforting burn after a long week at work. The little glances Price sent your way were reminders for you to behave until the end, his fingers curling over a healing bruise from when he held you too tightly, pussydrunk with his head between your thighs.

You smiled and nodded, going along with whatever they were chatting about, from meaningless affairs to slightly classified subjects. Nothing was off the table with you, they trusted Price enough to trust you with sensitive subjects and they all liked you, someone who could relate to their cause and understand their pains. Perhaps that played a part in his obsession with you.

Even when they stood on your doorstep with slurred speech and hooded eyes, they were always aware of their situation and minds sharp, but they were blind to your plight. Gaz and Soap shook hands with Price, the darker Brit bowing to lift his cap in a familiar salute: “‘Night, ma’am.”

“Thanks fer the meal, bonnie.”

“It’s always a pleasure having you over, Johnny.”

Ghost waved at you from the driving seat, he drank less comparatively to the other men, being designated as the driver between them. You send him a tired grin with a wave of your own, still within Price’s grasp. You looked on beside him as Ghost drove off, returning to base with two drunken sergeants in his custody. With them gone and the door shut and locked - bolted down with keys and codes only he had access to - he pulled you to his chest, rumbling out praises with his deep, soothing voice. 

 “You were so good today, love,” he pressed his lips against yours, hand cupping your nape with a slow lave of his tongue to deepen the kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”

He dragged you away, feet hanging on your toes to follow his movement while letting him press for more kisses, growing passionate and stealing your breath. You clung to him, fingers clawing at his form-fitting shirt as you walked backwards, stepping into your shared room. He blindly kicked the door shut, throwing you to the bed with a rough push. He stared at you through lidded eyes, bouncing on the bed as you scrambled to get your footing before he straddled your hips between his thick thighs, rutting his covered hardness against your stomach. 

His leaky head trapped under the tightness of his briefs and pants drenched his clothes, his chest rising with deep and laboured breaths. In the silence of your privacy, Price became handsy, wanting to grab and touch every part of you, cradling your face and wiping the drool on your lower lip with his thumb. He brought it to his mouth, sucking his thumb with lust-hazed eyes as he peered down at you. His brown hues were darker in the dim lighting, nearly black with lust and need as he grappled himself over you. He wore a crooked smile on his perfect lips.

“You deserve a reward for behaving so well, yeah?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs

[steddieas-shegoes]

sounds like a date

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.

"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.

"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.

That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.

He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.

Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.

So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.

"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"

"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.

"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.

Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.

Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.

"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.

Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.

"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.

Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.

It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.

It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.

Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."

"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.

"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."

"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.

"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"

Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.

Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.

He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.

Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.

"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.

"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."

"Oh?" Steve froze.

Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.

"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."

Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.

"Sounds like a date."

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

AU where Kara is still an assistant when Lena becomes CEO of CatCo. She makes some changes but one thing Cat tells her under no uncertain terms is that a) Kara stays, and b) she's destined to become a reporter when she's ready.

I'm going back and forth on whether Lena and Kara are friends at this point, or whether Lena simply takes on CatCo before they meet. But basically I want to see Kara having to a) build new connections to get Lena what she needs and b) learning what it's like to work for somebody who doesn't treat like dirt most days.

Like, imagine her standing dumbfounded the first time she brings Lena her coffee, because Lena simply thanks her, genuinely. And then the flush of pride when Lena comments in pleasant surprise when she discovers the coffee is perfectly warm-- not hot enough to scald, but not the usual tepidness of coffee thats had to travel three blocks to get to her.

Because Cat always took those little efforts for granted, as an expectation. But Lena smiles slyly as she regards Kara anew, and says "I think we're going to work together just fine."

Because Kara worked for Cat, not with her. And that small semantic means the world. Because its true-- Cat, and now Lena, wouldn't be able to do what she does without Kara doing what she does.

And that just makes Kara want to work all the harder. She finds she WANTS to stay late when Lena does, mostly because Lena urges her to go home, and that kind of kindness is the kind that's paid back by staunchly ignoring her and sticking around anyway. And she takes extra effort to learn all of Lena's preferences and idiosyncracies, so that she knows exactly what Lena needs when she's had a meeting with that particular board member she's outwardly civil to but clearly loathes.

The first and only time Kara brings Lena salmon for lunch, she's absolutely devastated when Lena looks at it, shoulders falling. "I forgot to tell you I can't stand salmon," she says, resignedly.

Kara's eyes go wide in horror. "Oh! No, that's okay, I'll just go--"

"Please don't bother, it's my fault, I never told you--"

"It's no problem at all. Just-- wait here okay?"

As if Lena would be anywhere but her desk. But in ten minutes, Kara returns with a greasy paper sack.

"I promise, this isn't a punishment for needing something last minute," Kara says quickly. "These are legitimately the best burgers in the city, and honestly, it's the greatest gift I could ever give you."

Okay. Maybe she's laying it on a little thick. But Lena only looks at her with a bemused smile. "All right," she slowly agrees. Her eyebrow quirks. "I'm assuming you picked up something similar for yourself?"

Kara blushes. "Yeah. Can't help myself."

"Good. Then you can eat with me."

Freezing, Kara feels like a deer in the headlights. For all that Lena has treatedher as an equal, they've never eaten together in the same room. They usually eat at their own desks, working through.

"Really?"

"Really." Lena's gaze turns artificially solemn. "If I'm going to have a self-induced heart attack, I better have someone there to call 911."

Unable to keep herself from grinning, Kara scuttles to retrieve her own burger and fries from her desk. And there, together, they share the first of many, many meals to come.

[rookinthecrownest]

Bedtime Stories For a Demon, Night 2: Swan Lake (Lucanis x Rook Fanfic)

The next night, Lucanis finds himself arranging a few plates on the dining table ahead of Rook’s planned arrival. He arranges, then rearranges, doubts what he made, or if it was weird thing to do in general. But he remembers his conversation with Neve from earlier in the day, and that seems to hold his nerves steady for the time being.

He had walked into her office-room with a question. And Neve, unsurprisingly, knew exactly what that question was before he even got to her front door. She was a damn good detective, he had to give her that.

“Planning something special for Rook?” she asked coyly.

“You know her better than I do” He admitted, scratching the side of his beard. “She’s … helping me. I want to do something nice for her”

“Is that all?” Neve quirked a brow and leaned back in her chair. An errant wisp floated by her hair, which she quickly swatted away gently.

Lucanis frowned. “Yes. That is all. Just tell me what I should make for her”

Neve crossed her arms, “Information rarely comes free in Minrathous”

“We’re not in Minrathous” he pointed out.

“You can take the girl out of the city, but you can’t take the city out of the girl” she said wistfully, closing her eyes and grinning.

Lucanis groaned and ran a hand down his face. “Fine, what do you want”

“Fried fish for dinner tomorrow night”

“I was going to make Paella tomorrow night”

“Well, now you’re making fried fish” Neve quipped.

“Mierda, alright. But I’m also making vegetables” He pointed at her, “You people need to get better eating habits”

Neve grinned and steepled her fingers together, then leaned forward on her desk. “Make the churros again. You might not have noticed her sneaking an extra one or… five, during dinner, but I certainly did. She wouldn’t stop talking about them the day after you made them”

“Churros” He repeated thoughtfully, as he rubbed his beard. He could do that. He should still have some ingredients left over from the first time he made them last week.

Rook likes sweet things. Smells like sweet things. Spite echoed in his head. He ignored that.

“Thank you, Neve” He gave her a curt nod before he turned to leave. “There will be fresh coffee in the dining hall in a few minutes if you’ve a mind for a real cup of it.” He called over his shoulder.

Lucanis left to her chuckling behind him and closed the door to her office. He had spent the rest of the day gathering supplies, and later in the evening when he was certain the team was asleep, he began preparing. The routine of baking and cooking was as calming as sharpening his longsword on a whetstone. Slow, methodical, rhythmic. But unlike sharpening his swords and knives, the end product was something that could bring joy, rather than misery and death. He tries to hang on to that.

When he finishes the churros, he decides that’s not enough. He makes a chocolate sauce to go with the churros. But maybe she prefers caramel? He should have asked Neve. So, he makes a caramel sauce as well. Then, he wants to see if she’ll like cioccolata calda and starts preparing that. It’s fairly late in the evening when he finishes the croissants he wasn’t planning on baking.

No sign of Rook yet.

He’s not sure when he started pacing with his second cup of coffee in hand.

She had accompanied Bellara to Arlathan – something about Veil Jumpers going missing deep in the forest. He shouldn’t worry. He’s seen Rook fight, she’s more than capable. But she does have a certain recklessness to her way of fighting. No - he doesn’t need to worry. He isn’t worrying.

He continues pacing. Then, he’s once again finding flaws with his arrangement of the desserts on the table. Would she find this strange? Too much? Off-putting, and not in a charming way but an unsettling way? Was there even a way to be charmingly off-putting?

He's pacing again.

“Am I interrupting something?”

He stops in his tracks.

Her voice has caught him off guard two nights in a row. That is a problem.

“Rook” He says stupidly.

“Hi” She waves meekly, and limps into the dining hall with a groan. She’s dragging her left foot on the ground. “Sorry I’m late – ran into trouble in Arlathan.”

He takes a few tentative steps closer. He wants to extend his hand, but some unknown force keeps it to his side, his entire body wound tighter than Harding’s bowstring.

If his body won’t move, his mouth will have to pay the balance.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

Rook winces and draws closer to the large wooden table.

“Rage demon” she answers, pulling out a chair by the fireplace “And I’m happy to report it lived up to its name! It wasn’t very happy to see us”

He pulls out a chair beside her. She turns to him and laughs bitterly, “Have you ever been burned and stabbed on a job? Because I found out what that feels like today, and it’s kind of awful. Thankfully Bellara was able to patch me up”

Lucanis looks down at her left leg. Whatever injury she sustained is covered by her pants, but he can surmise from the way she’s shifting nearly all her weight onto the other leg it must have been bad.

“You leave your left flank wide open when you fight” he says, absent-mindedly. And immediately wishes he hadn’t.

“What?”

Mierda.

“You have a habit of leaving your left flank open.” He says quickly, then looks into the fire. Anywhere but her confused face. “Something I’ve noticed on the field.”

He feels her staring. He’s said something he shouldn’t have said. He doesn’t know how to right it other than by offering her food as a distraction. Lucanis turns to his handiwork and reaches for the bowl of churros, all but thrusting it in front of her.

“Churro?” He asks hopefully.

If Rook is taken aback by the odd exchange, she has the manners not to say anything. She blinks twice and looks down at the dessert.

“You made this for me?” She tilts her head.

Lucanis rubs the back of his neck.

“I … yes” He sets the bowl back on the table after she gingerly takes one in her hand. He wonders if they’re as soft to touch as they appear. “I thought dessert might pair well with your stories”

Rook chuckles, and leans in closer “It’s a good thought”

Smells like Blood and Ashes and Brimstone, Spite’s anger reverberates through his chest. She’s supposed to smell like sweet things.

For once he’s grateful for the demon’s interjection as it keeps him from staring at her while she eats the churro. And licks the cinnamon sugar from her lips. He shouldn’t be paying attention to this.

“Mmm” she sighs, an expression of serene delight passing over her features. His chest tightens.

Rook grins, oblivious to the effect she has on him, “These are dangerous you know- you can’t keep making them for me or it’ll be all I’ll eat”

Lucanis sighs and pushes the chocolate and caramel sauces towards her. “You and Neve are peas in a pod evidently.”

Rook squeals in delight and wastes no time dipping the dessert into the chocolate sauce.

She prefers chocolate.

“So” He starts, awkwardly shifting in his seat, “What tale will you tell tonight?”

He pretends not to notice her wiping a smear of chocolate sauce from the corner of her lip with her finger.

“Oh, right” She reaches into her side pocket and pulls out the small journal. Rook flips through its pages, humming thoughtfully. She lands on a page near the end of the journal before stopping.

“This might be a good one.” Rook snaps the journal shut and places on the table beside her. “Have you ever heard the tale of Swan Lake?”

Even if he had, he would say no. If she wants to tell him a story, he won’t sway her.

“The original story is from Nevarra, but it was adapted into an Orlesian ballet some time ago” Rook continues, not giving him a chance to answer before barreling ahead with her explanation. “Apparently it was one of Emperor Judicael’s favourites. He liked it so much he had the ballet house play it nearly every night, and producers of the other ballet’s threatened to quit en masse. It was so bad, the play was actually banned in Orlais for about fifty years because of that whole debacle. Caused quite the scandal”

“Must be a good ballet” He remarks, before getting up from his seat. “Wait here for a moment, Rook”

Rook nods and reaches for another churro, “Sure”.

Lucanis returns with two steaming cups and passes one to Rook. She takes it gratefully and lifts the warm beverage to her nose. “Mmm! What is this? Smell’s divine”

“Cioccolata Calda. An Antivan specialty”

“Is it coffee?”

“Try it”

Rook does as she’s told and takes a curious sip. Her eyes widen and her lips split into a large smile. “That is amazing. I think I have a new favourite drink”

“They make it better at Café Pietra, but this will do for tonight” Lucanis sits back down and takes a sip of his own cup. It’s a little too sweet for him, but the look on her face assures him it was a good call. “If we find ourselves in Treviso again, we can –“

“I like the way you make things” Rook says quietly, gripping her cup a bit tighter. She’s looking down at her cup, and it’s probably for the better. He is certain the tips of his ears are a furious shade of red.

“Thank you” He whispers, after a few moments of quiet pass between the two. “That’s… very kind of you to say”

“You’re welcome” She replies, crossing her legs in her seat like she did yesterday. She looks like she wants to say something else, but a quick shake of her head and a clap of her hands brings her focus back to the reason she came here.

“Okay, umm, let’s see here” Rook’s gentle features twist in concentration.

Her hands begin glowing with that familiar blue light, and as she raises her arms and gives a flourish with her left hand.

A castle once again fills the empty space between their chairs. This one has a central dome surrounded by four gilded towers with pointed roofs – different in style and architecture from the one yesterday, but no less impressive.

“Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a handsome and gentle prince by the name of Siegfried”

The castle ripples out of existence, and in its place, is the form of a young man with short, cropped hair, a broad chest, and a large bow on his back.

“Prince Siegfried was one of the most accomplished hunters in the kingdom. It was said he could hit any mark, no matter the distance. His aim would always be true. Some versions of the story mention his crossbow being enchanted, others chalk it up to pure skill. Either way, he’s a good shot” Rook grins and makes the figure of the Prince aim an arrow right at Lucanis’ chest with a crook of her finger.

Lucanis raises an eyebrow and holds his hands up in mock defense, “Tell the Prince he should stick to animals – I might be above his paygrade”

Rook bursts out into laughter and as her concentration breaks for a moment, the image of the Prince flickers in and out of existence.

“Sorry, carry on.” Lucanis smiles as she rights herself in her seat and places her hands back into position.

“Yes – where was I?” Rook flicks her wrist, and the Prince is back in view. This time, he’s joined by another figure. A tall woman, dressed in a long, flowing dress with an ornate crown on her head, comes to stand next to him.

“His mother, the Dowager Queen, comes to inform him of an upcoming ball that will be held at the royal palace. ‘At this ball, my son, you will choose a royal bride. For I am late in my years and wish to see grandchildren in these palace halls before I depart’” As before, the Queen’s mouth moves in rhythm with Rook’s words – like magical ventriloquism.

Rook waves her hand and the Queen disappears. The form of the prince cradles his head in his hands.

“The Prince is despondent at this news. He wanted to marry for love, not political power. Surely, he has a right to his own heart, at least?” The Prince sinks to his knees and stays like that for a few moments.

Another flourish from Rook, and a new figure appears. Shorter, portlier than the Prince, but with kinder features.

“His friend Benno sees how upset he is, and wonders how he can help cheer up the Prince”

Both figures disappear as Rook pauses to take a sip of her hot chocolate. He tries to ignore Spite’s impatient rippling at the edges of his consciousness.

Siegfried and Benno return soon thereafter.

“Benno looks out the window, and happens to see a flock of swans flying outside”

Rook waves the swans into existence, and they flit around Siegfried and Benno in circles before disappearing. The figure of Benno tugs on the prince’s shoulder sleeve.

“‘Your highness, a hunt!’ he exclaims, pointing out the window” The figure of the prince straightens, his interest piqued by the animals.

“Benno gathers a few other men from the castle, and along with the prince, they all ride out to the forest to hunt the swans”

The scene changes to Benno, Siegfried, and three other men riding horseback through a dense forest canopy. He will always be in awe of the imagery she’s able to bring to life with her magic. Never in a hundred years would he have thought of using magic in this way. Then again, Rook is anything but a typical mage, so he shouldn’t be surprised.

“At some point, Prince Siegfried becomes separated from the group”

One by one, Benno and the other men disappear, until only the prince remains, trotting horseback through the air on the spot.

“He comes to the lakeside clearing and finds the flock of swans.” The swans reappear, now floating on the edge of an invisible lake. The figure of the Prince draws his crossbow and pulls an arrow from the quiver. As he nocks the arrow, one of the swans transforms into a beautiful young woman. She has a long plait of hair spilling over her left shoulder. She’s wearing what Lucanis assumes, from its puffy construction, a ballet dress. The skirts are feathered, and feathers even fall from the dress, winking out of existence moments later.

He leans in closer to observe the finer details.

“You have quite the imagination, Rook” Lucanis smiles at her.

She returns it in kind and brushes a stray curl behind her ear. She looks shy, almost, and like she’s avoiding looking at him. “Some say over-active”

“I think it’s just right” He pulls back and takes a sip of his own hot chocolate.

“Thanks…” She whispers, drawing her legs closer together. When she sees her figures flickering again, Rook’s brows bunch together and the blue light in her hands grows brighter.

“The … ah … the Prince was so transfixed by her beauty and grace, he had to know more about her”

The figure of the prince begins moving closer to the woman, but the woman begins to back away.

“But she was frightened, for she did not know this man, and feared the crossbow in his hands”

“‘Wait!’ The prince calls just before she leaves his sight” The prince holds out his hand and tosses his crossbow to the ground. Well, the air. “‘Please stay, I’ve not a mind to hurt you. Won’t you tell me who you are?’”

The young woman stops and rests her hand on her chest.

“‘My name is Odette, and I cannot leave this place’”

“Why?” Lucanis is leaning forward, practically on the edge of his seat.

Rook leans in closer. Too close. Close enough to reach out and touch. Her large, doe-like green eyes, framed under long and wispy eyelashes, feel like they’re burning themselves into his soul.

Chocolate and cinnamon. Spite shrieks gleefully, and he wants to draw back. His heart throbs loudly in his ears, almost drowning out the demon. Almost.

“The prince had the same question” She winks and returns to her previous spot before he has the chance to pull away first.

“Odette explains she’s been placed under a curse by a powerful, but wicked mage. His name was Von Rothbart, and he was obsessed with Odette.”  

The prince disappears and is replaced by a taller man with hair tied behind his back and sharp, hawk-like features. He was dressed in a finely tailored doublet, with a side-cape hanging by a large broach affixed to the right shoulder. A faint red light shines from the broach.

“He kidnapped her from her home and used her blood to bind her soul to the gem in his broach. ‘Marry me’, he asks her every night. Every night she refuses. Every morning thereafter, she turns into a swan. And every night, she is called back to Swan Lake and turns back into a human. Such had been her fate for the last five years. It’s a powerful spell, born of ancient magic – but not an invulnerable one.”

Rook arced her hand over Odette, who’s form morphed from human to swan to human again with every back-and-forth motion of her palm.

He doesn’t have the words, none that will meaningfully add to the conversation at least, to describe how he feels about the way she uses her magic. Amazing, incredible, inventive all seem inadequate.

“There was one way to break Rothbart’s spell. A man would need to profess his love for her and remain faithful to that vow forevermore”

The figure of the prince kneels down on one knee, evidently ready to profess that love immediately.

Lucanis is resting his elbow on his knee, and his chin rests in his hand. His cup of hot chocolate rests forgotten by his side, as do the churros and croissants. He is certain she doesn’t realize how captivating she – her stories, are.

But they are interrupted by Rothbart, suddenly appearing beside Odette. He grabs her roughly by the arm and holds her beside him.

The prince stands with righteous anger. He has an arrow pointed at the figure of Rothbart.

“‘I shall slay this wicked mage, and free you from his grasp’” Siegfried declared”.

As the prince was about to loose the arrow, Lucanis is surprised to see Odette step in front of Rothbart, her arms spread wide in defense. The prince lowers his bow hesitantly.

A low growl escapes his throat, his eyes flash an angry violet “Why would she do that?” Lucanis’ voice is drowned by the deep and unnatural timbres of the demon, echoing together in a discordant symphony.

“Spite” Rook says calmly, like one would address a misbehaving child. “May I have Lucanis back so we can finish the story? You’ll find out why in a moment”

Lucanis’ face contorts with frustration. His violet eyes burn bright with anger, “Want. To know”

“You will, soon. Now bring Lucanis back”

Lucanis – well, Spite, growls again. When the demon refuses to relent, Rook hesitantly touches his forearm and frowns. “Please?”

The violet in his eyes dims, and Lucanis shakes his head. It was rare for Spite to surge to the forefront so quickly.

He couldn’t understand why the princess would protect someone who hurt her.

Lucanis takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly.

“Are you alright?” Rook asks quietly. The figures are long gone now, dissipated by the distraction that was Spite.

He realizes she’s still touching his forearm. Warm, and calming. Gentle. They both look down and she quickly pulls away. He feels the withdrawal of her warmth like gust of cold settling on his skin.

“Yes, I’m fine – don’t worry” He gestures to her, “Please, continue with your story”

Rook still looks hesitant, like she doesn’t quite believe him. He wouldn’t either, he supposed. He needs her to continue the story. Needs to distract himself from the feeling of her soft fingers lingering on his skin, like a brand.

She relents and her hands glow blue again.

The three figures of Siegfried, Odette, and Rothbart return.

“Odette explains that her life is tied to Von Rothbart. If he dies, then the spell imprisoning her can never be broken”

The figure of Rothbart retreats into a deeper part of the forest she’s conjured.

Odette and Siegfried share an embrace.

“’Come to the royal ball in three days’ time. There, I will profess my love to you in front of the entire court’ Says the Prince, resolved to defy his mother and marry her instead of a princess.”

The figure of Odette nods and disappears soon after.

“What they don’t know is that Rothbart heard the entire exchange, and he had a plan to make sure Odette could never escape him” Rook frowned.

The prince disappears next, and they are back with Rothbart and another young woman. This one slender and petite, with the same sharp features as the man next to her.

“Rothbart had a plan. He would use magic to disguise himself” Rook waved a hand and Rothbart morphed into the dress and appearance of an unassuming peasant. “And his daughter, Odile” She waved her hand again, and the young woman became an identical copy of Odette – but her dress, was glowing with an ominous black light.

“There’s no way that’ll work” Lucanis throws his arms up and leans back in his chair. “He has to know that Rothbart won’t just let her waltz into the ball”

Rook merely shrugs, “You’ll have to wait and see”

Lucanis crosses his arms over his chest and frowns. “Continue”

Rook laughs, “Alright, alright”

Odile and Rothbart disappear. They are replaced by a grand ballroom floor, with guests dressed in all sorts of finery decorating the dance floor like little spinning jewels.

At the top of a grand staircase sees Benno, Siegfried, and the Queen gathered together.

“Siegfried anxiously awaits the arrival of Odette” Rook explains, before waving her hand and bringing to life the disguised figures of Rothbart and Odile-as-Odette.

“Overcome with joy when he sees her, he immediately asks her to dance”

The two come together, and the rest of the ballroom disappears. They twirl about the ballroom in an elegant pas-de-deux.

“At the end of the dance, Odile asks him one simple question”

The pair part, and the prince drops to one knee in front of her.

“’Do you love me, and only me?’”

Lucanis watches intently as the figure of the prince bows his head in front of the pretender.

Sadness washes over Rook’s face. “The Prince, none the wiser, proclaims his love to the entire court ‘Of course I love you’ – but it wasn’t enough. Rothbart, masquerading as the girl’s father, asks him to make a binding vow in front of the Queen. Siegfried, thinking nothing of it, does so immediately”

Rook waves her hand and the figures of Rothbart and Odile return to their original forms. Suddenly, the real Odette, in her pure white dress, is inside the ballroom. She crumples to the floor as she witnesses the Prince profess his love for Odile.

“Odette, heartbroken, flees the ball and returns to the lakeside clearing. The prince follows after her, distraught at what he’s done.”

The two figures stand in front of each other on the lake.

“Odette eventually forgives him, realizing that he was under Rothbart’s spell just as much as she was. But the damage was done. His actions consigned her to live as a swan forevermore”

Lucanis frowned, unable to see a path to a happy ending. But Rook was full of surprises, maybe her stories were as well.

“Odette and the Prince resolved to leave this world together, rather than be bound by Rothbart’s magic”

The figures of Siegfried and Odette walk towards the lake, hand in hand. They slowly sink together under the willowy depths.

Well, he wasn’t expecting that.

A moment later, they both disappear under the water.

The figure of Rothbart returns into view. The red light of the broach on his shoulder flickers in and out, before dying out completely. Rothbart collapses to the ground and remains still.

“It’s true that Odette’s life was bound to Rothbart’s – but the magic worked both ways. Rothbart’s life was also tied to hers. And when she left this world of her own will, he left it against his”

A moment later, Rothbart disappears and in his place are two ghostly swans, flying in circles together.

“The spirits of Siegfried and Odette are reunited in the Fade, until they decide to pass on together”

With a final flick of her wrist, the birds disappear, and there is nothing but empty space between him and Rook again.

“The End”

Lucanis exhaled.

“Not the most cheerful ending” He remarks, taking another sip of hot chocolate.

“What was it you said about that one brew at Café Pietra? Bitter and sweet - like a kiss goodbye?” Rook nods and absent-mindedly chews on another churro. “That’s how I think about this ending. Not every story has an overtly happy one”

He’s dumbfounded she even remembers that throwaway comment.

“I still don’t understand how the prince doesn’t question Odette appearing at the ball. With a father she hasn’t seen in five years, supposedly” He wants to change the subject. Away from kisses, goodbye or otherwise.

Rook shrugs, “That’s a question for the author- though he’s likely about four hundred year’s dead.” A light twinkles in her eyes, “Maybe we can find him here, in the Fade, and ask his spirit!”

Lucanis laughs, “Now there’s an idea”

“I’m full of them. Some better than others” Rook grins sheepishly. She begins massaging the side of her left leg.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, following her gaze down.

“Nothing – it’s just starting to ache a bit” Rook winces. “That demon got me good”

“Let me see” Lucanis drops to his knee in front of her. “If that’s alright”

Rook removes her hand and drops her gaze to look at him.

“Oh – it’s fine, Lucanis, really. I’ll bug Bellara about it in the morn- “

“It’s better if you bug me about it now. It might get worse over the course of the night”

He gestures to her pant leg, “May I?” He asks again.

Rook bites her lip, before relenting. “Sure… go ahead” she answers softly and lifts her leg so he can support it in his right hand.

He clicks his tongue when he sees the damage under her dressing. The lateral portion of her lower leg is covered with an irritated and inflamed superficial burn. Three parallel gash marks, likely closed thanks to Bellara’s healing magic, create tracts of bright crimson skin. She hisses when he gently presses on the skin of her leg.

“I have something for this. Wait here” He carefully lowers her leg and returns a moment later with a small jar from the pantry.

“Embrium and Elfroot paste, good for burns and skin irritation. It’ll also prevent infection. Apply it twice a day” He sets the jar on the table beside her. “Let me know if that gets worse”

Rook grins, “I didn’t know I was getting a doctor and an assassin in my contract”

Lucanis chuckles, “Any Crow worth their salt knows how to close a wound just as well as they can open one. Consider it on the house”

“Is the all the cooking on the house too?” Rook slowly stands up, and they’re only a few inches away from each other now.

Lucanis nervously rubs the back of his neck, “I think it has to be, with the way you people eat”

“Hey! I’m not that bad” She places her hands on her hips and frowns. “I eat vegetables … sometimes”

“I’ve seen you pick out the eggplant in every dish”

“Okay, I don’t like one vegetable”

She shakes her head and gathers a few churros and croissants onto a plate. Rook sticks a croissant in her mouth, and speaks around it, “Just for that, I’m eating nothing but these for the next two days”

“You’re going to miss Paella night” He deadpans.

Rook swallows and places another croissant defiantly on her plate.

“Three nights”

Lucanis sighs. At least she seems to like the food.

Rook’s laughter fills the dining hall. “On that note – I should get some sleep. I hope Spite doesn’t give you too much trouble for the rest of the night”

“He won’t” Lucanis doesn’t know that but says it to give her some reassurance. “Good night, Rook”

“Madeleina”

“What?”

“My name … it’s Madeleina. You can call me that if you want” She smiles widely. “Rook is fine too, though”

“Madeleina” He repeated softly. He smiled, and for the first time all night, he feels like he can keep her gaze. Their eyes meet, and it feels like an entirely new conversation is happening between them. “It suits you”

Rook toys with an errant curl and smiles. “Thank you”

“I – umm… I should get going. Goodnight, Lucanis” she adds quickly.

She quickly rights herself and for good measure, steals one more churro from the bowl. Madeleina then turns and begins hobbling out of the dining hall, leaving Lucanis and Spite to mull the feeling of her new name over in his mind.

He would have to thank Neve for her advice.

[luckyreds]

Cigarettes! smoke them if you got them.

The Improved version. ;)

Aaaaaah, cigarettes, a true staple of soldiering life, practically as common as a helmet or a rifle. Back in the 40s, nearly everyone smoked. Among the working class, about 80% puffed away on a good old cig on the daily, and in the U.S. Army, nearly half of the men were regular smokers. Cigarettes weren’t just a habit; they were a cultural phenomenon and a lifeline, especially on the battlefield.

The Importance of Cigarettes in the Army

Imagine you're a soldier during those days, slogging through mud, dodging enemy fire, dealing with exhaustion, hunger, your nerves getting fried the longer you stay on the front lines, being stretched to the breaking point. What’s the best way to take the edge off? Exactly! A good old cigarette.

Back then smoking wasn’t just a way to relax; it was a coping mechanism. Cigarettes calmed jittery hands, offered a moment of peace, and staved off hunger pangs. (In fact back in the 30s Lucky Strike even marketed itself as a way to "stay in shape,” more on that later.)

A smoke break also became a key social ritual. Sharing a cigarette with a comrade was more than camaraderie, it was currency, connection, and comfort all rolled into one.

How Soldiers Got Their Smokes

Now! Being a soldier in the army meant you weren’t likely to run out of cigarettes. In fact, Uncle Sam made sure of that, As they were seen as an easy and affordable luxury. There were a couple of ways you could get your fix:

1. Rations. Cigarettes were a key part of standard-issue K- and C-rations. Each pack came with a neat little "three-by-three" setup: nine cigarettes, often a mix of  one of four brands; Lucky Strike, Camel, Chesterfield, and Old Gold. If you were lucky, your whole pack would be your favourite brand; if not, trading with your buddies became an art form and a favourite pastime of many GIs.

2. PX Stores and USO Canteens. Now, say you smoked your pack or lost it in a bet, you could always head to a PX store or USO canteen (assuming you weren’t on the front lines). They stocked packs of 20 from brands like Pall Mall, Philip Morris, Parliaments, Wings, and Fatima and (in the USO canteens) the USO girls would carry them around on silver platters for the soldiers to buy them.

3. The Red Cross. For the truly desperate (or die-hard fans of Old Gold), the Red Cross was a lifesaver. They handed out free cigarettes to their personnel and they were often willing to sneak a pack or two to any GI looking for a pack.

4. Care Packages from Home. Families back home were eager to send their boys a pack or two, it was in fact promoted to do so! but mail wasn’t exactly speedy. A letter from your mom or wife might arrive weeks late, so unless you had saintly patience, trading or hitting up the USO was your best bet.

5. Barter and Trade. Like I said before, Bartering and trading became one of the favourite pastimes of soldiers. Didn’t get Lucky Strikes in your ration pack? No problem. You would find someone who did, and trade away your Camels or Old Golds. Cigarettes were practically a secondary currency, traded for chocolate, favours, or even a few extra hours off duty. Say you were a non-smoker, trading away those cigarettes could get you a lot of other useful stuff.

Why Lucky Strike Was the King of Smokes

While soldiers had their preferences, Lucky Strike dominated the frontlines. Why? Well, back in the good old roaring twenties, they were sold as a way to loose weight! Yes really! This marketing campaign was so successful, the use of Lucky Strikes exploded across America. then during the 30s, this good old Cigarette became the go-to of many celebrities, (think of Joan Crawford, Gary Cooper, Clark Gable) and by WWII, it had established itself as The King of Cigarettes brands.

Lucky strike green has gone to war!

In 1942, Lucky Strike changed it packaging from its iconic green to white. This clever switch made it the most patriotic cigarette in town. Sure, the green dye wasn’t actually repurposed for the war effort (the company just wanted the packaging to appeal to women), but who cared? People loved the idea, and Lucky Strikes flew off the shelves. Their signature toasted tobacco also had a smoother flavour, and promised a less sore throat after smoking. It quickly became a favourite amongst the soldiers.

Now! If Lucky Strike wasn’t your thing, there were plenty of other options:

Camel: Known for its smooth taste and memorable slogan, “I’d walk a mile for a Camel.” Quickly becoming a new favourite during the war.

Chesterfield: A milder, smooth option, favoured by those who wanted something “classy.” It was also seen as an english cigarette.

Old Gold: Perfect for anyone who liked their cigarettes without a cough (allegedly).

Pall Mall: advertised are longer and more elegant, a “premium” choice for officers or stylish soldiers.

Philip Morris: Another solid pick, with a reputation for luxury. “Call for Philip Morris” their busboy mascot to find out why its the finest cigarette in town!

Marlboro: For the women out there, “mild as May” Marlboro was the go to! Marketed as a ladies’ cigarette with their signature red coloured filter to hide lipstick stains, Camel and Chesterfields were other favourites, as they were considered more “refined” options due to their smoother taste.

(If none of these brands were available: in France you had the famous Gauloises. Which were associated with the resistance and had a very distinct taste and smell and nobody wanted the English-made cigarettes, as they were so bad according the americans they apoligised when giving them out.)

On cigars:

Cigars were often seen as a luxury item, not something you'd find in your standard rations. They carried an air of importance and were typically associated with officers, high-ranking officials, or soldiers celebrating a victory. If you think of cigars and ww2, you’d think of Winston Churchill, General Douglas MacArthur and later General George S. Patton, puffing away on their cigar celebrating victory.

How Soldiers Got Their Cigars

Care Packages from Home. Families might send cigars to their loved ones overseas as a treat. Though it was often those from the more privileged families, or the officers that could get a box of cigars

2. Special PX Purchases. Post Exchanges and USO canteens sometimes stocked cigars, though they were far less common than cigarettes. They were considered more of a specialty item, so soldiers had to go out of their way to snag one.

3. Barter and Trade. If someone in your unit was lucky enough to score a cigar, you might be able to trade for it—though the price would be steep. Cigars were seen as a rare luxury, so they didn’t come cheap on the frontlines

4. Liberation Spoils. Occasionally, soldiers might come across cigars while liberating towns or raiding enemy supplies. A nice Cuban cigar found in an officer’s stash could turn a miserable day into a pretty good one!

Now there were a couple of brands common in this time:

White Owl: One of the more popular and accessible brands for soldiers, known for its mild flavour.

El Producto: a mid-tier cigar, cheap hand-made nickel cigars but a favourite amongst the ‘Common’ men.

Dutch Masters: not as popular as they were about to become in 50s, but still well-known brand which would’ve been available at the USO.

Havana Cigars: For the Officers and Wealthy. As a common GI, if you get your hands on authentic Cuban cigars via looting, you’d better enjoy it! They were highly prized for their quality.

Now! If cigarettes were the democratic choice of the masses, cigars were the aristocrats of the tobacco world. They weren’t as practical to carry in the field, but they carried a sense of prestige that cigarettes didn’t. If a soldier lit a cigar, you knew something important had happened, or he had connections back home.

How to light it up!

In the army you had two options, the first was a lighter, if Lucky Strikes was King Cig, then the zippo was King Lighter. Made in Bradford, Pennsylvania, Zippos were beloved by soldiers for their durability and reliability. These lighters were windproof, meaning they could stay lit even in harsh conditions like rain or wind, and they were pretty practical! Zippos used refillable lighter fluid (usually naptha which you could taste) and flints. Soldiers could easily find materials to keep them going. Plus, they were customisable and pretty indestructable. they could take a beating and still be in working condition! now, if you lost your lighter, soldiers would improvise. Some created lighters from shell casings, fuel, and flint. These homemade lighters were often rough, but they worked.

the second option was of course matches. they were standard-issue that came in soldiers’ ration kits. These matches were often coated in wax or stored in waterproof containers to ensure they stayed dry. Soldiers relied on these matches not just for lighting cigarettes but for starting fires and other survival needs. other than the standard matches you had matchbooks, which were lightweight and easy to carry, often featuring advertisements or morale-boosting slogans. They were frequently handed out by the USO, Red Cross, or included in care packages from home.

righto! that was it. the new and improved Cigarette information post! hope you enjoyed!

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I was wondering if you could recommend some fics where Crowley and/or Aziraphale are detectives. I would prefer if they were rated M or E. Thank you :)

Hey. Here are some M/E detective fics...

All's Fair In Love And Serial Killing by WyvernQuill (M)

Detective Inspector Crowley is 99.999 percent sure that Aziraphale Fell is a serial killer. The trouble is only that the remaining 0.001 percent are deeply in love with the man… --- In which there is A Murder - rather a lot of them, actually - A Marriage Proposal - just the one - and True Love - whose course runs less not-smooth than it takes a sharp left turn, loops a couple times, and doubles back on itself, before crashing straight into a wall. (Don't mind the metaphor. It still ends well. Promise.)

yours in black lace by okapi (E)

Hardboiled, hell-fried private investigator Anthony J. Crowley is just trying to survive a hot, boring August, but a new case and a series of anonymous naughty letters signed only 'yours in black lace' are about to make things interesting. Chapters 1-3 are case fic. Chapter 4 is smut. For the 2020 DW Unconventional Courtship challenge based on a summary of the Mills & Boon novel Yours in Black Lace by Mia Zachary.

Snow Angel by Lurlur (E)

Detective Constable Crowley has been working the "Snow Angel" case for almost a year. It's Christmas Eve and finally, his luck seems to have come in. Arresting Aziraphale Fell, big-time drug dealer, is the easy part. Questioning him is the hard part. It's a police procedural that goes sideways. I'd say it still manages to have a more coherent plot than any episode of Prodigal Son, but that's not saying much.

Tadfield's Finest by angelsnuffbox (E)

The sleepy town of Tadfield is thoroughly shaken by the arrival of DI Crowley. Where barely anything ever happened before, there is now a bustle of low grade criminal activity, and everyone knows where to point the blame. Gabriel thinks he's a bad omen for the town, many others are quick to agree. Meanwhile, Aziraphale from SOCO just thinks he's hot. Ridiculously so.

It's A Hard Life by Krisdaughter_of_Athena (M)

“Crawly” was the best delivery man in the whole city of London, and everyone knew it. Whether it be books and flowers, or narcotics and guns, Crawly was the one for the job. Easy enough for Crawly to slip in and out of tight spaces, and easy enough to keep his real name off the police radar. Detective Constable Aziraphale Pritchard is used to being told he is not very good at his job. He is as surprised as everyone else when he is the officer to catch Crawly, the Devil’s infamous delivery driver, in the act. He is the only officer to figure out Crawly’s real name. But no one else knows that, otherwise they’d also know that the DC tends to get drunk with this particular member of the notorious Demons every other Thursday, and would also know of the fragile Arrangement between the two. Aziraphale knew it couldn’t last. However, what are the two to do when Crowley is given an extra special delivery, one which places the two unlikely allies alongside each other for the long haul? How will they keep the delicate balance of their arrangement from their respective sides? And how will they keep one boy from bringing destruction to the entirety of London?

The Currents by indigo (M)

Post-End-of-the-World-that-Wasn't, a bored demon sets up a Detective Agency and obviously drags his angel counterpart in to help out. They are tasked with preventing a murder before it happens and set off to the Highlands of Scotland - where, of course, nothing works out quite the way they imagine...

- Mod D

[snoopledrooplecheesedoodle]

Yandere Experiment: Lamb Fritter

Hey guys, I've been feeling depressed so I haven't been able to finish making my Yanmas posts, however here's a new oc to help feed my starving audience.

Lamb Fritter is a lab experiment creating a human hybrid with wolf and sheep DNA. Having fluffy white hair that trails off into gray fur like ends. He has black sclera and red eyes with the sheep lens. While it might have cute little lamb ears and a fluffy tail, it also has a pair of pointy wolf ears, sharp curved ram horns, and sharp canine teeth. Being a hybrid gives it super strength and speed, fast metabolism, heightened sight, smell, and hearing, and some other things.

Lamb Fritter was treated very bad by the scientists that created him, kept naked and poked and prodded like an animal despite its high intelligence. He was forced to eat a veggie diet which made the carnivore weaker and weaker.

One day the creature snapped and killed every scientist and guard in the building. Blood stained his white curls and his toned naked body. The poor creature ran away and hid in the dumpster behind a rundown diner in the middle of nowhere.

You were a waitperson at this diner, and you were taking out the trash thinking of what to make for dinner, perhaps lamb fritters. As you opened the dumpster you were attacked by a strong creature that pinned you to the asphalt. A large gash formed in the area the creature scratched on your arm.

You wince as you hear a menacing growl/bleat eyes blown wide with fear; this was your end. Murdered in the back of a crappy diner by some freak experiment. Until you heard sniffing and saw horizontal pupils blinking curiously at you.

Lamb Fritter looked at your eyes and sensed you were not evil like those people who kept him locked away, plus you weren't wearing a white coat.

You feel the creature licking your wound, remorse painted in his strangely endearing eyes. Perhaps sleep deprivation made your judgement murky because you guided the poor creature inside and threw an apron over its fully naked body (its genitals were freaking you out).

Lamb Fritter sat in an old booth seat and scarfed down the country fried steak you put in front of him, it was going to be your dinner, but the man seemed very hungry. It was almost cute how the wolf-sheep hybrid whined when the plate was empty, clearly he was still hungry.

Looks like you made a loyal friend who was abnormally strong and obeyed you no questions asked.

Extra Info

His favorite food is country fried steak not because he particularly likes it (he prefers his meat raw), but because he associates it with good things (like you).

Hates clothes with a burning passion, refuses to wear anything more than underwear (it's not like he'll be going outside anyways).

Amazing cuddler as he is warm and soft with strong arms to help you feel safe. He loves this gentle nighttime activity as he gets to hold you while you sleep. Likes to groom you as a good mate would do.

His little sheep tail wags when he's happy and he does a happy yip/bleat (only happens when it involves you).

Will block the door with his body every time you try to leave the house in hopes of you staying forever. Can be persuaded with sweet words and cuddles.

Very smart and picks up on words you mention and parrots them back to you. Happy bark/bleats when you ruffle his hair when you reward his smartness. Very fond of the phrase "I love you" and your name.

Being very smart it is able to pick up any task quickly and perfect it, it's the only way he can stave off boredom when you're gone.

Follows you everywhere in the house, insists on following you into the bathroom as well (you don't let him).

Hates the smell of others, especially other men. Will cling to you rubbing his scent all over you in hopes it will stick permanately

Will charge people and maul them if you let anyone into your nest (aka your house). Will also bring a body part up to you proudly and expects praise (look how well it defends you). He's territorial so it's best to not bring anyone home until that muzzle you ordered for him comes in the mail.

Feral unhinged beast to others and loyal submissive puppy to you.

Don't you love your good boy?