#i'm not cool i'm a fruit bird!

[killbotic]

Hi ur so cool ♡

hey bestie! i don't know what you're talking about, I'm a talking fruit! but i hope you're ready to contend with yet another dangerous woman.

[inkskinned]

it isn't really complicated, but i still can't tell my grandma about it. my girlfriend is also my boyfriend and i'm her girlboyfriend and there are a lot of days this feels like smoothing sheets over a good mattress. it feels like getting a cup of good hot chocolate. we paint our nails lesbian flag pink, and i watch her eyelashes make shadows on her cheeks. she wants to kiss me because i am really good at baking, and i want to kiss her because when i am freaked out about how i spilled coffee, she just hands me extra napkins and helps me clean. he is so handsome i want to eat my fist. they once just winked at me and i couldn't talk for like the next fifteen minutes.

i haven't seen the L word and i was raised catholic. my earliest experiences with queer relationships were through harrowing conversations and hushed questions and blood on the ground. i didn't like boys soon enough. what, are you gay? asked to a 6th grader, almost like a demand.

when she is asleep next to me and i can feel the dreams run up and down her body, i pretend we are both somewhere in the stars. i like to picture a future full of fruit trees, and writing him poetry. sometimes she wakes up, has a whole conversation with me, goes back to sleep, and utterly forgets that we ever even spoke. she is always kind to me, even in that liminal half-there ghost. i like the croaked, raw way her voice sounds in the very-early morning, the way she always seems surprised i'm still here, and home.

on the internet, there are a lot of people who would be annoyed by both of us, and how labels must be pruned into orchids. a box has to hold and define the insides. people must be organized.

we went on a date last night, and the host said, oh, table for 2 nice ladies? neither of us are ladies, but also we are very much 2 nice ladies. i have been wearing her sweater nonstop. he has frequently been forced into wearing my taylor swift official merch quarter-zip because i was worried about him catching a chill, and you simply cannot be cool in an official taylor swift quarter-zip. do not worry: they listen to better music than i do, and their voice sounds like leaves falling.

i wear the skirts and makeup and i am better with spackle and know how to drive stick. recently someone commented on my work - you're just a man trying to reappropriate lesbian spaces. sometimes i feel like she is a clementine to me, and sometimes i feel like he is a german shepherd and sometimes i feel they are a bird. i like watching his hands over a guitar. can i write this poem, even? how can you be a lesbian if you're sometimes with a man? or you are the man?

how can i, huh. you know, our first date lasted 3 days. we'd been flirting for over a year before i finally asked her out. i'd already written her into poetry. she'd already written me into songs.

last night, in the late night, when they woke up again, confused about where they were, they said - oh, thank god. this is your arm. there's just something so precious to me about the specifics, the denotation that the arm was (thank god!) mine. i really liked that definition. i liked the obvious relief because i understand it.

i say yeah, i have a partner. i mean - oh. thank god. it's your arm.

[toriaaniin]

The Jive

The following is a recreation of a conversation I had the other night with a friend from one of my group chats. Yes, even when I believe in Luke and Nicola as strongly as I do, I suffer from little brain niggles that feed doubt. I'm so very grateful for my chat groups because even though my friends and I regularly review all the info we know, talking it out loud can make all the difference.

Jive with me!

"Let's talk about it again." "Again? We talked about Luke and Antonia as a couple last night." "Yes please. How are you feeling? After last night's talk with the group, we all left feeling good. But how are you feeling now?" "Feeling doubts. Brain niggles." "Yes. Yes; those damned brain niggles. So let's talk about it again. Make it make sense." "You know we never can make it make sense. The pieces don't jive." "You're right; let's try again anyway. Where do we start?"

We start in the present and move back in time. We start back on NYE 2024 and move forward in time. We start in the middle somewhere because why not? With every starting place - forward, backward or round-about in time - we encounter a glitch, or confusion, or a hurdle, or a "no fuckin' way!" or... well, no matter where we start, the pieces just don't jive.

"Let's start in the present day." "Okay. Cool."

We pause and then step gingerly (because yuck, groan and LOL) into a discussion of recent Luke & Antonia sightings like the People Pap photos (clearly arranged) and the Yungblud concert (weird - with, as usual, no IG acknowledgement of a possible evening spent together by either of them. Luke shared a photo of he and his long-time friend Dom/Yungblood. Obviously Dom was Luke's priority for the evening).

"It's all so baffling and confusing! After watching Luke, most especially, and Nicola at the SAGs..."

We find ourselves happily reminiscing about that evening, and the days afterward. We laugh at Nicola's scramble on the following Monday to redirect the narrative to "my buddy", Jake's seemingly emphatic use of the period as punctuation (how I laughed when the Jakola's decided that was a love message!), and then the unexpected (but I feel strategic) follow of Antonia's IG.

"Hey! We've gotten off track. We're supposed to be finding a way to make Luke and Antonia work as a couple." "I know... but we can't compare apples (the best fruit ever) to dog shit. Luke & Antonia have no energy. No light. "Yep. The pieces just don't jive."

We have no choice but to admit that SAGs throws a wrench into the Luke & Antonia narrative, especially given the images published of the two of them together. Dog shit indeed.

"Let's try again." "We've been trying this since the BOSS event on January 30th and you know where we end up. Every time." "Yes, I know. The biggest stumbling block of all. The one golden nugget that kills any and all Lutonia jives."

Yes. I said golden nugget, as in the ultimate breadcrumb. A breadcrumb that can't be eaten by birds like in the Hansel & Gretel fairytale. Something that - when not ignored or obtusely explained away - is tangible.

At some point in the last days of January through to the first days of February, Nicola had a baby. I've read a lot of blogs that laugh at us for suggesting this reality. For me and for many with eyeballs in our head, photos like these tell the story. Plainly.

"There's no doubt that Nicola had a baby. You know that I believe Luke to be the baby's father... but is there a chance he isn't?" "Based on when we believe the baby was born, he was conceived back in late April or early May 2024 during the world tour. Sure, Nicola could have been seeing someone else at the time, but I wonder how he would have felt watching the chemistry between Luke and Nicola? Like that time when she was practically sitting on his lap during the long-sofa livestream (approx April 10)?" "Yes! And during the Australia leg of the WT? Luke couldn't keep his eyes away from Nicola's cleavage in that black dress! "Luke?! How about when he saunters out in that monochromatic beige coat, tank and pants, whips his coat open? Nicola was definitely NOT staring at his eyes then!" 🥵🥵

Bottom line is, if we don't consider Luke, there's no evidence of a significant person - a lover - in Nicola's life back during the time of baby's conception, during the whole world tour OR since. No, I don't count her friend Jake in this role. If I'm pushed on this possibility, and I willingly ignore Jake's preferences: Nicola's friendship with Jake isn't actively reflected in the media until late August... well after the August "Chaos Week" activities and the repeated Luke-coded content shared by Nicola on IG.

Luke being the baby's father jives.

"Let's not forget the polaroid photo of her and Luke in Nicola's phone case. We first saw that in Australia." "That's right. I remember her flashing it during the Taylor Swift concert back on June 21st. And of course she's had a possible Luke photo in her case ever since." "I wonder how a significant non-Luke lover would feel about Nicola carrying around a photo of her co-lead in her phone case, right where she can see it multiple times a day, for this past year?" "She even shared the polaroid phone case photo in her 2024 IG photo dump - mirror selfie in Skims, looking sexy, with her phone case clearly visible. Talk about a Luke breadcrumb!

Luke being the baby's father jives.

So what's with Antonia? Did Luke and Nicola break up before the baby was born? After all, Luke took Antonia to the BOSS event on January 30th... right around the time that Nicola's baby... their baby... was born.

"All I can think of is yuck! That's not the Luke that Nicola has described to us." "I agree. The Luke in People's 'Sexiest Man Alive' This/That video showed a lovely excitement when he described 'fairytale ending': 'Happily married; end of season 3 vibes'. Complete with a love-goofy gaze over at someone (Nicola, of course!)." "Don't forget the Claddagh ring. It hasn't left her left hand since October 1st, and of course the left hand with the heart facing inward signifies marriage." "Well... except for that one time in Paris (Jan 26-28) when she moved it to her right ring finger. I think that's because in those last days of pregnancy, her hands were swollen so she shifted it to a less swollen finger." "Heck! During the SAG interview on January 25th when she declared that she and Luke were 'just friends', she was flashing that ring (on her left hand) around!" "We saw it back on her left hand after Paris. Nicola is married with a child and all clues make Luke the father. All tangible indications (ring [ring truther!], polaroid, SAGs energy, This/That video, audiobook Misdirected [possibly released on Baby Newt's due date, Feb 4th], and other clues) are that Luke and Nicola are together to this day." "But what about Antonia?"

What about Antonia. How about I ask you this. When Nicola and Luke were having their baby, what were we in the fandom talking about? The BOSS event and Antonia. Misdirection. Pure and simple.

We have no idea of all the particulars and the whys. "Why her?!" laments get us nowhere. When we look closely at the "relationship" between Luke and Antonia though, we see nothing that jives. It doesn't fit. To my way of thinking (like many here on Tumblr), this is a contractual agreement only. Don't ask me or anyone why. All we can do is speculate. I've done some research and I've looked at it critically... and while I believe I have some understanding of possible whys, it's still bloody confusing!

My recommendation? Accept the fact that we don't know the whys, and we never will. Accept the fact that a contract exists because groaning about it will only take us to a place of frustration. Simply recognize that there is nothing in a Luke and Antonia "relationship" that jives. Then laugh when you see them in papped photos!

To my way of thinking, Nicola and Luke's baby means their relationship is real. It's always been them. Now it's their little family. This reality is what keeps me here!

We all know what we saw. Luke and Nicola jive. They define jive.

Aaniin Xxx

[k0nanharv3y]

Invented drinks from Tim's coffee shop:

This is part of an AU I'm writing about Tim never joining the Batfam, so, yeah, read that first. Im too lazy to put all the parts, so, go to that link, there will be the first parts

• Coffee I'm The Night – $4.50 (A dark and robust coffee, with a hint of mint, ideal for those looking for something strong and comforting)

• Purple Spoiler Tea – $4.00 (Lavender or blueberry tea, with a touch of honey, something soft and relaxing)

• Espresso Depresso – $3.50 (A strong and bitter espresso, for those who need an extra push)

• Frappuccwing – $5.00 (A frappé with whipped cream, garnished with a hint of strawberry or caramel)

• Latte Matte – $4.75 (A latte with oat milk and a touch of spice)

• Orphan Coffee – $4.25 (A traditional coffee with a hint of cinnamon, evoking something warm and cozy)

• Robin Mokkaccino – $5.25 (A delicious mocha with a hint of dark cocoa and a touch of vanilla)

• Ice Hood – $5.50 (An iced coffee with vanilla syrup and cold cream, perfect for cooling off)

• A Decaffeinated Signal – $4.00 (Decaffeinated coffee with a hint of almond or hazelnut)

• Chai-dentity Crisis – (Chai with almond milk and a touch of honey)

• Two-Shots Latte – (Double espresso latte, because someone always needs two chances)

• Villain Vanilla Shake – (Wickedly creamy, vanilla shake with chocolate chips)

• Gotham Fog – (Dark version of London Fog, Earl Grey tea with steamed milk and a touch of lavender)

• Cold as Freeze – (Coffee slush with whipped cream and mint chips)

• Nightwing Nitro – (Coffee Nitro, elegant but with a strong punch)

• Bane's Protein Shake – (Banana and almond butter protein shake to break your fast in style)

• Caffeinestein – (Coffee infused with an extra boost of caffeine, for those who need to go crazy in the morning)

• Espress-Oh No! – (Espresso with a touch of cinnamon and hazelnut liqueur, ideal for making bad decisions)

• Riddle Me This... – (Mysterious infusion of hibiscus, red fruits and a touch of pink pepper)

• Ginger Crowffee – (Ginger and honey spiced latte, as chaotic as a certain scattered bird)

• Shaken, Not Stirred Espresso – (Non-alcoholic espresso martini, because class needs caffeine too)

• Pump Bat-kin Latte – (Pumpkin latte with a hint of dark chocolate and cinnamon)

• Choco-Freeze – (Chocolate and mint shake, so cold it leaves you frozen)

• Deadshot of Espresso – (Double espresso without sugar, because one shot, one hit… or a tachycardia)

• Venti-llante – (A venti latte, because nothing screams “night watchman” like too much caffeine)

• ChocoBane Shake – (Chocolate protein shake with a hint of chili, because it will make you stronger… but it will hurt first)

Desserts:

• Bat-nana split – $6.00 (A banana split with a touch of dark chocolate and whipped cream)

• Stealed Cat-Cake – $5.75 (A dark chocolate cupcake with creamy filling and a hint of mint)

• Moccha Riddle – $4.50 (A soft and fluffy mocha cake with chocolate frosting)

• Joker Cake (Because it explodes) – $7.00 (A chocolate cake with a surprise filling that 'explodes' with a splash of liquor, decorated with brightly colored cream)

• Black Cookie(s) – $2.75 (Dark chocolate cookies, perfect to accompany coffee)

• ScatteredCrow – $5.25 (Walnut brownie with a hint of sea salt and caramel, a robust dessert)

• Harley's Chaos – (Red velvet cupcake with raspberry filling and decorated with red and black colors)

• Raspberry Ghoul-ette – (Raspberry cupcake with dark frosting, for ghosts who love sweets)

• Puddin' Proof – (Chocolate caramel pudding, because if you have to prove it, it's not real pudding)

• Crime Brûlée – (Crème brûlée with a hint of rum, so good it should be illegal)

• Sin-amon Roll – (Sinfully Delicious Cinnamon Roll)

• Death by Chocolatewing – (Dark chocolate cake with layers of ganache and a pinch of sea salt)

• Sweet Tooth's Revenge – (Ice cream with caramel, brownie pieces and lots of chocolate chips)

• Hood Velvet Cake – (Red Velvet Cake with Cream Cheese and Raspberry Filling)

• Jelly Dent – (Strawberry jam filled donut, perfect until someone takes a bite)

• Snicker-Crow – (Chocolate, caramel and nut bar, with a touch of coffee for those who need a plan)

• Sweet, Sweet Vengeance Pie – (Salted Caramel Apple Pie, because revenge is better when it’s sweet)

• Broken Wing Brownie – (Brownie with a melted dark chocolate center, perfect for melancholic nights)

• Joker's Wildberry Tart – (Wildberry tart with colorful whipped cream, because there's always a surprise in every bite)

• The Double-Face Cookie – (Half chocolate chip, half oatmeal cookie, for the indecisive or the morally ambiguous)

• Not-So-Fortunate Fortune Cookie – (Fortune cookie that only says "Tough luck, kid.")

Breakfast and Brunch:

• Eggs-tra Vigilante – (Scrambled eggs with cheese, bacon and toast, because night heroes also eat breakfast)

• Robin's Toast – (French toast with powdered sugar and red berry syrup, as sweet as it is deadly)

• Bat-cakes – (Chocolate pancakes with bat ears and whipped cream)

• The Darkoats Rises – (Homemade granola with Greek yogurt and honey, because sometimes simple is best)

• The Last Bite of Krypton – (Spinach and feta omelette, packed with solar energy in every bite)

Sandwiches and Salads:

• Gotham Club Sandwich – (Triple sandwich with turkey, bacon, lettuce and tomato, as big as the city itself)

• The Knightwich – (Roast beef sandwich with melted cheese on rustic bread, for those dark and stormy days)

• Harvey's Half – (Sandwich with two different halves: one with ham and cheese, the other with turkey and cranberries)

• The Poison Green – (Spinach, arugula, avocado, walnut and basil dressing salad, as fresh as it is lethal)

• The Anti-Meat – (Vegan Sandwich)

• Scarecroissant – (Croissant filled with ham, Swiss cheese and mustard, so addictive it’s scary)

• Hall of Just-ice – (Crispy Chicken Caesar Salad, so classic it deserves its own monument)

• Bane's Big Bite – (Chili with meat and melted cheese, because surviving in Gotham requires a main course)

• Shiva's Hair – (Noodle soup with spicy broth, pork and egg, as lethal as its creator)

• Freeze Fries – (French fries with cheese and ranch dressing, always served cold, but with a warm heart)

Honestly I was too lazy to put prices on the rest of them, but I had fun naming them.

Well, my brother told me "You should put copyright on it" and I really don't want to, but, if you ever make any of my desserts and/or use any of the names I'd like you to send me a picture of it, and be tagged, other than that you're free to use any, and since I see you want ALL O_o the recipes, I'll post them on my personal account and tag them here, because I refuse to have so many recipes here, I have to scroll down too far to find my past posts

[asidian]

Set breakdown time! Next up: Niko's room.

As before, I've circled the points of interest and numbered them to make them easier to talk about. Cool? Cool. Let's do this!

1: Niko's mom's name! This part is her and Niko's surname. The kanji are 佐々木.

佐 – sa, meaning help or aid

々 – an iteration mark. When you see this, basically it means "exactly what the last one said, one more time." So another sa meaning help or aid

木 – ki, meaning tree

It's really neat that they picked a last name for her that doubles down on her role in the narrative. Just like Niko is there to support and help other characters in whatever way they seem to need, her surname hammers it home by including 佐 not once but twice.

2: Riza (リザ) Niko's mother's given name. Somewhat odd here is that it's written in katakana and not kanji. Without getting sidetracked too much (you can pop over here to read more if you're interested) most Japanese people write their names in kanji.

Katakana seems like a bit of a strange choice here, unless a) Niko for some reason doesn't know the kanji for her own mother's name (weird, given that she's in high school) b) her mother is a foreigner (a possibility; foreigners usually write their names in katakana) c) the set designer/whoever prepped the letters didn't know the appropriate kanji for "Riza" (seems unlikely, given how accurate all the rest of this is) or d) some sort of personal habit. An interesting side note is that her letter to Niko also puts Niko's name in katakana.

3: Cutesy stationery, used for marking your place in a document or book

4: A cute blue purse!

5: Watermelon! Judging by the shiny material and placement near the other bag, I'm going to guess this is another purse

6: Niko's clothes :>

7: Pink luggage

8: Lots of instant noodles

9: A rice cooker

10: Rice vinegar

11: This girl LOVES her some plants

12: Probably food items…? The one on the right looks like it might be a five-pound bag of rice, but I don't recognize the brand

13: Lots of unwashed dishes

14: A toaster oven

15: Chopsticks

16: A cute octopus pillow. I think I saw someone mention that it's from Ikea :>

17: She often leaves dirty dishes sitting on the bedside table

18: A painting of what seems to be a skyscape

19: Brightly colored pillows

20: Metal art in the shape of a moon

21: A decorative window hanging

22: More plants :)

23: Candles

24: Her tv

25: Cute pens with pompoms on the end

26: Regular tape

27: A cute cat statue

28: Marble Pop Ramune, strawberry flavor. Ramune is a type of soda that's a popular festival drink in Japan. It's sealed with a  glass marble and you have to pop the marble down into the little catch basin before you can drink it.

29: Anime wall décor

30: Fruit jelly cups. In Japan, small gelatin based snacks like this are popular. They're tiny, about an inch tall, and you eat them in just one or two bites.

31: Niko's laptop. She has stickers on it

32: Washi tape! It's decorative Japanese tape, often with bright colors and patterns, used for crafting.

33: A lot of cute magnets, including the bunny one, which serves double-duty as a kitchen timer

34: Niko's grocery list. The only thing on here that's here because she wants it is strawberry ice cream. The rest of the items, licorice tea, manuka honey, and Epsom salts, are all natural remedies. She's been trouble-shooting how to get rid of the effects of the sprites. She knows she's sick, but not why

35: Cutesy craft supplies! Sequins, glitter, and pompoms

36: More washi tape!

37: Niko's manga collection. She is that particular brand of organizational mess that does not put her numbered volumes in order. She has made an exception for the series that makes a complete picture when you line them up, though

38: More plants :)

39: Manga posters! Issho is one of the series that she has on her shelf

40: A decorative jar

41: Little metal bird sculptures

42: What seems to be the only framed picture in her room. The angle is wrong to see what the photo is, but it's interesting that they added just one in here. Maybe it's her family…?

[thecuriousbeauty]

Harry Styles Oneshot- Honeymoon

Husband!Harry x reader

Word limit: 6,949

Warnings: Smut, teasing, edging, blowjob, gagging, light spanking, dirty talk. Oh and lots of fluff!

____________________________________________

"Is it..beachy?"

"Maybe."

"Will there be a lot of people?"

"Maybe."

"Will there be animals?"

"Maybe."

Groaning I sat back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. "You won't tell me anything?", I asked Harry who was watching me with an amused look, clearly enjoying not telling me anything about our honeymoon.

"You'll like it babe.", he patted his hand on my thigh. I looked out the window of the airplane, light peeking out of the clouds. It was a beautiful view.

But the view of the man beside me was better. Harry was looking at me with a content smile, his dimples peeking out. His curly locks were stuffed under his hood, and his green eyes were twinkling.

"I love you." I kissed his cheek and he smiled and pecked my lips. "I love you too."

"Aren't you sleepy?", I ask. We've been on the plane for five hours now, talking and talking. "Yeah." He nodded and yawned on cue. "I'm sleepy too." I pulled on our cuddle blanket and tucked my legs over his lap, placing my head on his shoulder. He placed a kiss on my temple, then passed out. 

______________________________________________________________

I peeked out the window and street as we got in a car, and the driver drove to I don't know where. We drove another fifteen minutes or so, unconcerned about speed limits. Soon we were forced to slow down as we approached like a dense rain forest. 

"Here we are.", the driver said stopping. There was lingering Italian accent to his English. 

Harry paid the cabbie and took our bags, trooping through the front door of a hotel. Harry walked across the cool tile to check us in and I slumped against the couch. 

"Ready to go?"

I looked up at Harry, it seemed like he had gone only for a second. Behind him was another man, holding a fruit basket.

"May I escort you to your cabin?", he asked, his accent also evident. I took Harry's hand and my suitcase as he led us up to a trail. 

Where the heck are we?

______________________________________________________

"What about the-AUUGH!", I swatted away a giant fly as it got close to my face. Harry and our guide Manuel, chuckled.

"I told you to use the spray I told you.", Harry said smirking.

"It smells funny.", I said bending down to take my suitcase again.

He shrugged. "Be fly food then."

"You are walking on thin ice, honey."

"Well then maybe you should do like I told you, sweetie."

"Maybe you should tell me where we are first, dear."

"It's a surprise, cinnamon."

"We are here!"

We snapped out of our 'argument' and saw Manuel watching us with a bright smile. He pointed to a trail and broke off to the right. Harry gave me an 'I told you so' look and skipped ahead with his things. I followed him after waving off any more flies.

"Whoa.", I said as we reached into a clearing.

"I knew you'd like it!", Harry grinned who heard me.

"Be careful crossing the bridge!", Manuel instructed. Harry waved for me to go first and he walked behind me. I gasped at the view from the last step. 

Harry poked my butt prodding me forward.

We continued walking and finally reached our cabin. 

"Like it?", Manuel asked hopefully, reading our expressions.

"It's beautiful.", I smiled re shouldering my backpack. He beamed and gave us a set of keys, plus some instructions before waving a goodbye and Harry gave him a tip. I knew we were close to somewhere I could enjoy the scenery. I heard bird calls every step and the noise of waterfalls nearby. 

Harry fumbled with the keys before letting us in.

I peeked inside the cabin before stepping in. "Pretty!", I said. 

"Yeah? I hope you like it.", Harry said cranking open a window. He pecked my cheek. "It's beautiful." I smiled and draped my arms around his neck pulling him closer for a kiss.

He smiled, his hands dropping to my waist. "Look how gorgeous it is.", he said looking outside the window. "Hey birdie." I said watching a small bird peek out. "It is gorgeous.", I agreed. He plucked a flower and tucked into my ponytail. "For you."

I blushed, appreciating the cool breeze blowing around us, making Harry's hair messier than it was. Harry winked and kissed my forehead. "y/n Styles, welcome to Venice."

______________________________________________________________

Harry's eyes were on my body all through dinner. I knew my new dress would do things to him. It was a wine red dress, stopping just above my knees. A beautiful design on the top and a silky material.

Harry was distracted all through dinner, and I had my desert painfully slowly, enjoying what I'm putting him through. Harry leans over to whisper in my ear, "You'll pay for everything later, baby."

"I'm looking forward to it.", I grin, wrapping her lips around the spoon, keeping eye contact with him as I slowly lick off the chocolate.

Harry smirked, before giving my thigh a squeeze. I look down at his big hand laying on my thigh, his rings and tattoos adorning his hand. His lean fingers closed around her skin possessively.

Harry ushers us into a cab once we were done, and I sit close to him, leaning to his side. He had his arm wrapped around me.

"I think I like your dress a little too much.", he murmurs, stroking the skin of my thigh. "But I might like it better on the floor."

I bite my lip as his hand moves higher. "Will I find you all wet for me when we get back?"

"You find out.", I whisper, pressing a kiss to his jaw, and he hums, sneaking dangerously close to where I need him the most, before pulling out his hand, and intertwining with mine instead.

As soon as we got to our cabin, he had me up against the wall, his lips hungrily devouring mine. It was pure ecstasy. I could drown in his lips forever. His hands ran all over my body, and my legs wrapped around his waist, hands finding his hair. Harry looked amazing as well. He wore a black silk shirt and those skinny jeans that made his thighs look great.

I gasp as Harry cups my heat. "Teasing me all night, weren't you love?"

"I didn't mean to..", I try to spread her legs more as he slips his hand inside my panties, and his fingers stroke my folds. He groans, feeling all the wetness over his fingers. "Didn't you? You're dripping wet, seems like you had fun too."

"Uh huh..", I agree, moaning as he slips a finger deep inside me. "Please Harry.."

"Want me to make you cum?", Harry asks, his teeth nibbling at my neck, and I nod.

"No, not yet. You teased me all night, now it's my turn.", Harry whispers, his eyes darker with lust. He pulls his hand away, making me groan and he lifts me up, walking to their bedroom.

He throws me on the bed, sleek like a panther approaching his prey as he climbs on to the bed, hungry eyes watching me.

"As much as I love this dress on you, it's gotta go.", he says, and I turn my back so he can unzip it and pull it off my head. I wasn't wearing a bra, so Harry's hands went to them immediately, cupping them in his hands, and pressing his lips to my nipple. I moan as he rubs my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, before giving it a tug.

"Fuck..Harry.."

"Yes baby, keep saying my name, love to hear it from your pretty lips.", he grins, and moves one of his hands lower, and parts my legs. I gasp as his thumb finds my clit.

"You want me here, love?"

"Yes please.."

"Such a good girl.", he praises, and starts to rub my clit in slow circles as he takes my nipple back into his mouth, his teeth grazing it enough to leave a small sting of pleasure.

He quickens the pace, and adds a finger inside of me, and I bury my hands in his hair, playing with the curly locks. I was about to cum, when he pulls away.

"Harry! W-What'd you do that for?", I scowl at him, feeling all tingly and needing to release.

"Just teasing you, darling, what's the matter? Don't like it?", Harry smirks, looking up at me.

"You do like it, don't you?", he answers when I don't, and brings his fingers up to my lips. "Come on, taste yourself on my fingers."

I open my mouth and let his fingers slip past my lips. I hummed at the taste, his fingers splaying on my tongue, before it went a little deeper, and made me gag.

"Let's make you gag on something bigger, okay? Will you be a good girl and take care of me? Then I'll make you cum.", Harry says it like a question, but it was more like a statement. I nodded, and he pats my cheeks with his wet fingers, before it finds my hair, and tugs me to my knees.

"Take me out, baby." I helped him out of his jeans, before taking him out of his boxers. He laid down on the bed and I hovered over him, stroking his dick and licking his balls. He was so hard. His dick stuck up straight.

"Enough of that love, get to work.", Harry tugs on my hair, and I lean over, taking him in my mouth.

Harry groans. "That's it baby, take me deep in your throat. Such a good little wife for me."

Harry was big, and it was initially not easy to take all of him, but now I'm used to it. Harry pushed my head down making me gag, and I was tempted to reach my hand to rub my clit.

Then I felt him twitch, and went faster. "I'm gonna c-cum..", he warns me, and my mouth fills up with his cum as he pulls out a little. I swallow it all down before kissing him.

"That was amazing.", he breathes, hand on the back of my neck. "Let's take care of you now, shall we?", he asks, moving his hand to land it smack on my ass cheek, and I yelp.

"I might have to myself if you don't.", I wink, and he groans, pushing my back so I'm laying down over him and he lands another slap to my ass for that. "Guess you really don't want to cum today, too bad. I was going to make you cum about five times. With my tongue, my fingers..."

_______________________________________

Next Day

Rolling over the next morning, I was disappointed to see I was alone. My legs, arms, back and everything ached, the cause of this made me blush furiously.

"Harry?" I poked my head out of the covers and looked around. "Harry?"

I got no answer but I saw a note next to my head. 

'I went to get breakfast for us, be right back babe.' x

I smiled and took out my phone checking my messages. I had a few from my friends Lexie and Kiara of couse.

Kiara: How was the first night in your cabin? Juicy?

Lexie: Bet she can't even walk.

Me: It was amazing. Period. Shut your holes.

I put my phone away hearing the rattling of the door knob.

"You're up! Morning gorgeous.", Harry grinned at me who was holding a big covered plate. "Morning." I blushed again pulling up the blankets over my naked body. 

Harry crawled onto the bed and kissed me. He smelt fresh, he had taken a shower, considering from his damp curls.

"I was really hungry and I'm sure you will be too when you wake up so I went to get it, they don't bring it over to the cabins." I nod kissing his nose. "And I didn't want to wake you up."

"I am very hungry."

He smiled and hopped out of the bed again. I put on my bra and underwear and got out of bed. 

Harry chuckled watching me paddle to the bathroom. "Don't you dare laugh curly!", I warned and he did just that. "I LOVE YOU!", he screamed. "I LOVE YOU TOO!", I screamed back. I took a wee, brushed my teeth, washed my face and put my hair into a messy bun as I went back to Harry in bed, who had breakfast there and I crawled in the covers.

"Mm this is really good.", Harry mumbled in between bites of food. "This is a huge breakfast.", I said taking a sip of the coffee. "Yeah, traditional breakfast here or something.", Harry said.

"What are we doing today?", I asked as we stuffed our faces with food.

"We could check out the local markets and stuff if you're not too sore." He winked and I slapped his arm. He laughed and kissed my shoulder. "Okay okay calm down wifey.", he said making me blush over again.

"You're all blushy today! I like it.", Harry said and I dug my head into his neck. "Not everything about me is like able babe."

"You're wrong. Everything about you is love able, you're perfect."

"Are you going to make me blush for the entire day?"

He cut up a piece of sausage and fed it to me. "I am going to make you blush for your entire lifetime honey." I pinched his cheek. "Stop unless you want a repeat of last night."

"Ooo I want a repeat of last night!"

I rolled my eyes and pecked his lips. "You're just gonna have to wait till tonight then."

______________________________________________________________

"Things are so cheap here!", Harry said as we tiredly walked back to our cabin after spending the whole day outside, exploring the city.

"We could buy a house here for the price of a suit in London.", he said as we dropped our bags and collapsed on the bed together.

"That's cause your suit is Gucci.", I said and giggled at his glare. He pulled me closer by my hips and tickled me making me squeak. 

"S-Stop I should breathe!" He laughed and finally stopped, pecking my cheek. I rubbed my ribs catching my breath. "Wanna play?", I asked. He smirked. "What do you wanna play?", he dragged his hand up my thigh and I slapped it.

"I was talking about board games baby."

He rolled his eyes as I got up and went to take one out. "Board games it is then.", he scooted up to the bed. "Babe, did you know we haven't gone anywhere alone in all the three years of being boyfriend and girlfriend? This is the first time we're alone!"

I thought about it. He's right, we always went with the other boys and girls. We did go small trips, to Harry's home and LA and road trips. But not like this.

"You're right babe.", I said. "Doesn't seem like it though."

"I know." Harry nods. "But I love this, no other boys frisking you away from me." I chuckled. "Monopoly or scrabble?"

"Monopoly, so I can beat you."

"You can't beat me curly."

"We'll see clumsy."

I rolled my eyes and sat cross legged from him. "We're going somewhere else after two more days.", he said. 

"Where?"

He imitated a zip and I groaned. We played monopoly, messing around, he won sadly. Then we set up a camp fire outside our cabin and it was another amazing night of our honeymoon.

______________________________________________________________

Next day

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP

"Uggghhh, turn it off.", I waved my hands around the air. "Turn it off!"

"Sorry,", Harry was mumbling, reaching across my head to turn it off. "Sorry."

"Hmmph."

Harry placed a soft kiss on my temple. "Morning."

Morning? Groggily, I lifted to check the time. Nearly six. 

"You're out of your goddamned mind curly.", I said flopping back against my pillows, waiting to see if he'd do the same. 

Instead, he tucked the blankets under my chin. "I'll wake you up in an hour, angel. Sorry again."

Ignoring the tingling in my toes when he called me that, I turned to see him pulling on pants and slide a watch on his big hand. Outside it was still dark and the noises of the frogs were loud.

"Why so early?", I asked.

He disappeared into the kitchen and grinned. "You'll just have to see."

I sighed. I laid in bed for some time, listening to the noises outside nature is making. Harry would drop something every five minutes so naturally I didn't get sleep again. I got up, used the bathroom before walking up to Harry. 

"What are you doing?", I asked. He jumped at my presence, then smiled and brought my hands to wrap around his square waist.

"Making us lunch."

"For what?"

He huffed as if it was obvious as he spread peanut butter on the slice of bread.

"For my surprise of course."

He and his surprises. "You don't want to get more sleep? You've got twenty minutes more.", he said walking us to the fridge to take something.

"I'm good.", I say. Harry was cute. Everything about him was. When he concentrated, jut out his bottom lip, he would tap his hand against his thigh when he got frustrated. His dimples made an appearance every time something went right and he'd wiggle his hips in a victory dance, holding my arms making me giggle. 

I pressed my forehead against his shoulder blades. "Stop growing.", I mumbled. "You're tall enough."

He laughed. "I agree babe, but I don't have control over it."

He walked to the fridge again. "How much food are you taking?"

"Enough for a whole day."

"Are we going hiking?"

"No."

"Are we going on a hot air balloon?"

He gasped at his fear surfacing. "Never."

"Are we going to need protection?"

"..more or less."

I scanned my brain with everything I could come up with it, nothing. "Whatever, as long as we're together." He smiled and turned around to sloppily kiss my lips. "I.." He kissed me again, lingering for a few seconds. "..love." He gave me another kiss. "..you." This time with tongue. I beamed and kissed his forehead. "I love you more."

"Impossible, now go get ready."

"What should I wear?", I asked going to the bedroom again. 

"Bikini inside whatever you want."

"Are we going-"

"No more questions please, thank you very much."

______________________________________________________________

Harry's POV:-

"A boat?"

"A yacht.", I correct, helping her onto the top deck. "A small one."

"It's pretty.", she said running her hand along the side of a bench. "Who's gonna drive though? I didn't see anyone."

I smiled and spread my arms. "You are looking at the driver of the yacht, ma'am."

"You?"

"Uh huh."

"You don't have a license to drive a yacht."

"Oh but I do.", I ducked down under the cabin to check on our safety stuff and see if we had enough oil. "Remember, one week before the wedding, I disappeared one day?"

She nodded. "Yes, you left me to deal with the cake tasting."

I chuckled. "Well babe, I was learning to drive this thing and steer around the whole day."

She gasped. "Seriously?"

"Yep. I promise we'll be okay. If not, we're good swimmers." Her mouth fell open and I laughed kissing her. "That was a joke baby."

"Oh right." She blew away some hair from her face. She had shorts and a top on, her hair flying around until she grunted and put it up in a clip. She looked beautiful, as always. 

"Now go outside and enjoy the sunshine, go.", I said checking the ventilation blowers. "But you'll be alone down here."

I shook my head. "I'll come up when we get a bit farther out, then we'll swim." I opened the window so I would get a nice view of the sea too, turned on the GPS and location tracker. 

She took of her shorts and top and I became hard just looking at her. She's just so fit and hot and ughh. "I lost my sun screen.", she said rummaging through her tote bag. I snapped out of my trance. 

"I took it, you didn't lose it babe.", I chuckled and she fished it out my bag. "You um look good.", I muttered watching her rub the sunscreen onto her slightly tan skin, making it glow in the sunlight. "Really good."

She smiled. "Thanks babe." I start the yacht. She rubbed sun screen over me too and pecked my lips. Then walked towards the door barefoot with a towel. "Have fun."

I winked. "You too."

I returned to the wheel. I could see her lay the towel on the slanted floor and turn around on her stomach so she could see me. After getting comfortable, she looked up to give me a beautiful smile and blow me a kiss. I caught it.

I liked our relationship. We still acted like children, teasing each other and unafraid to be cheesy. Everything was out of love and that was enough for us.

______________________________________________________________

"Babe let's go.", I said from the window in the top deck as I walked to the edge. Six hours had passed, we liked every second of it I would go down to the cabin every now and then to make sure we're okay, the rest I messed around with her. We did the dirty a couple times too he he.

"What are you doing?", she asked, watching me crank a handle. Then I jumped into the water making her gasp.

"Are you crazy!?", she peeked down at me. It was dark now. I popped my head back up. "Come down here!"

"You're insane!"

I shrugged and swam to the bright yellow canoe which had our picnic basket, two paddles and two life jackets. I settled on it and looked up.

"Are you leaving me alone?", I asked. She looked at me for a long time then with a groan came lower so it would be easy to jump off. I grinned and paddled closer.

"Is it cold?"

"Not a bit."

She took a breath before cleanly diving into the dark blue waters, showing off her athleticism which I love. Her head popped out after a few minutes and I smiled clapping, then held out my hand for helping her get on.

"That wasn't too hard was it?" I gave her a life jacket as she sat down. "I would say wear it, but since I'm not, it'd be hypocritical to ask. The water isn't choppy, I promise, but keep it close."

She nodded, flipping back her long black and rose gold hair back, which was now wet. "Okay, you know how to drive a boat. And now you've gotten me wet.", she said making me blush at the other meaning. "Now we're in a canoe miles away from where we started, what's going on?"

"Just wait babe." I stretched to place a kiss on her damp cheek. "You'll like it."

She exhaled but nodded, watching me pick up my paddles and drag them backwards. My hair fell in front of my eyes and she noticed, pushing them back gently and kissing my forehead. I smiled and nudged the food basket.

"Eat something."

She hesitantly pulled out a packet of grapes, popping a few in her mouth and mine. "Aren't we supposed to get less cheesy as we go more into our relationship?", she asked chuckling.

"Seems to be backwards for us love.", I agreed and pecked her temple. 

"Want me to help?", she asked noticing my light pants of breath as I continued to propel us in one direction. (pun intended.)

"It's alright, we're almost there.", I said.

She smiled, slowly getting to her knees, nudging my legs apart to sit in between them. My heart beat got a little faster as she leaned back against me and fed me another grape. I kissed her cheek. "You're a dork."

She shrugged. "Cut me some slack, I'm the wife of the biggest dork in the history of dorks.", she said and giggled. I rolled my eyes and licked her nose. "I like the sound of that though.", I said as her hands pushed mine down further on the paddle, hers on top acting as a helpful pivot against the calm water.

"What? Biggest dork in the history of dorks?" 

"No, silly. You, being my wife sounds really nice.", I corrected and she smiled and kissed my chin. "Is it better now?", she asked as I had to put lesser pressure on paddling now, because she was helping me.

"Mhmm."

It was quiet for a bit, the island I was aiming to, coming closer and closer.

"Did you see that?", she suddenly asked seeing a flash in the water. "Something's in the water."

I pretended not to notice, but I couldn't help my smirk. "Hmm.."

Looking up at the moon, she figured it must have been a reflection and rested back against me.

"I love you.", I blurted out kissing her shoulder. "A lot."

She paused the paddling to kiss my cheek and gently squeeze my knee. "I love you too."

"Not only for your body.", I added. Sure she has a hot body many people strive for and sometimes that's all the comments she gets, no one wants to know what kind of a person she is. "I mean yes for your body, but I love your personality too."

She chuckled. "Um, okay, I love your personality too." I laughed and rested my chin on her shoulder. "I just wanted you to know babe." She smiled and nodded. "That's very s-did you see that?"

We were really close to the island and I too had seen brightness in the water, but once again acted innocent.

"See what?"

She looked at the water and gasped. It was blue.

And glowing.

"Holy shit.", she whirled around. "Harry, we need to go back! There must have been toxic spills or something, look at the water. Let's go, let's go!" She tried to push the paddled forwards to paddle us backwards but I knocked her hands off.

"y/n", I murmured, squeezing her with my legs. "Look down."

She peered of the edge of the canoe and gasped. More blue water was surrounding our boat.

"What is...this?"

"Noctiluca scintillans. Also known as sea sparkle, these bio luminescent plankton float under the surface and flash brightly when disturbed, possibly to scare off or distract predators." I felt so smart.

She dipped a finger into the water, as if waiting for a shark to come bite her. "Huh?"

"Bio luminescence, love, the water here glows."

I slipped out of the canoe and into the water making her squeak. "Is it safe?"

I ducked back up smiling. "Yes it is babe, you don't even feel them.", I promised, watching her dunk her hand in again, marveling. The blue would spread every time I moved the water around.

"Come on in, before I make you.", I said ducking my head under the water again. When I popped back up, she hesitantly dropped one leg into the water, then jumped in. 

"Oh my god.", she giggled resurfacing as the water around her body glowed. "This is freaking dope!" I laughed, loving when she gets American.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

She stepped forward to slip her arms around my neck. "How did you find this place?"

For a second, I admired her eyes, which was the same color as the glow. God she's so beautiful. "Hm, H?", she kissed my cheek and I snapped back, my hands going to her waist.

"I just asked around baby, figured you'd want to see this." She smiled and leaned in, kissing me. "Thank you."

"Wait until you see the next place.", I whispered against her lips as we kissed again. I tipped her head back, her long hair causing blue to spread as I kissed her exposed neck. "I wanna know how you found this out.", she said, hands on my shoulders as she cupped some water on it, and watched it trail down making blue.

"I'll fill you in once we get there."

She didn't argue, but brought her lips to mine again. I tried not to get aroused as she latched her legs around my waist and slipped her tongue into my mouth. The air got thicker around us until we finally had to break away for breathing.

I pulled her closer, one on her hip and the other on the side of her neck as we leaned in again. My hands undoing her top without meaning too, I tied it back realizing what I had done, she didn't mind though. 

She gasped as we pulled away, breathless. "I-I love you.", she petted my cheek. "I l-love you too.", I whispered back and kissed her cheek. 

"Need to bring the canoe to the shore.", I mumbled not wanting to pull away but had to if I wanted to show her the other stuff. "I'll help.", she mumbled back and we pulled away after another peck. 

"Woah.", she repeated seeing the shore as we pushed our canoe to it. "It's so pretty."

Like you. "Yeah.", I said.

"How long are we staying here?"

"Just tonight.", I set it firmly into the sand, picking up our basket and offering my hand. "There's a village farther in and I spoke to a woman, we can sleep in her guest room."

She nodded, stroking the her thumb on the back of my hand. The sand was warm between our toes. I chose a spot where we had a good view of the water, plus lots of trees for privacy. We changed into dry clothes and she laid the towel on the sand, securing it with rocks as we both sat on it.

"Nice.", she teased, leaning on my shoulder as I got the food. "Wine and grilled cheese, how romantic."

I stuck my tongue out, pouring her a glass out. "It's actually quite delicious, so I've been told."

"I'm sure it is.", she smiled and we clinked our glassed together. "Cheers.", she said. "Cin-Cin.", I said, same thing in Italian.

"Woah impressive.", she said taking a sip and I giggled. "I learnt it to impress you."

"You've already impressed me in all the different ways.", she kissed my forehead. "This is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, thank you." I smiled and put my wine glass down to push her on her back on to the towel and kiss her hard.

"I love you.", she whispered breathless against my lips. I slid my hands down to her hips and squeezed. 

"I love you too."

______________________________________________________________

Y/N'S Pov:

2 Days Later

"Harry this blindfold is itchy.", I grumbled. "As much as I like We the Kings, I don't like it blasting in my ear for two hours." 

Harry had one more surprise, our last stop. He tied a blindfold over my eyes, popped earbuds into my ear and shoved me into a car after checking us out of the cabin in Venice. After the super cool islands thing, the next day we spent exploring the city of Venice, it was fun. 

I would think I'm being kidnapped now, if not for the warm body next to me and familiar fingers linked with my own. 

Harry chuckled and removed my ear buds. "Sorry, we're far enough I guess."

"From where?"

"No where."

I groaned. "You're lucky I have a good tolerance level. Can I removed the blind fold? I feel silly."

"More like adorable." He kissed my nose. "Wait for some more time."

"Well I think we're still in Italy because two hours can't get us out right?"

"Why are you so smart?"

I grinned in achievement. "But, you don't know where in Italy, and stop guessing.", Harry said and I pouted. "Can I have a kiss then?"

I felt his soft lips press against mine in a soft kiss. "That's all you get for now." I chuckled and nestled back into his shoulder. 

______________________________________________________________

"Welcome to Rome!", I heard somebody and I gasped. "We're in Rome?", I asked. It is weird walking with a blindfold on, Harry's hands were on my waist and the other holding my elbow as he lead me somewhere.

"He shouldn't have said that.", I heard Harry mutter. "And yes, we're in Rome. Won't it be a shame to come till Italy and then go back without visiting Rome?"

I smiled patting his hand. "It would. Can I take this off now?"

"No, few more minutes babe.", Harry continued nudging me to walk. "I can't believe we're in Rome. I've always wanted to come here."

"I know, I remember."

I squirmed under his hands. "Babe, I told you that like two years ago. I barely remember saying it."

"Yeah well, I wrote it down somewhere."

I blushed and held him tighter. "I love you."

"I love you too. We're here, do not remove it until I tell you too.", he said before letting his hands drop from my waist. I heard him swiping probably a card and his hands were on my shoulders again, steering me into a room.

Then I heard him opening a window and his hands finally undid my blindfold.

Jesus Christ.

The room was amazing. Harry was standing behind me with his arms tightly wrapped around my waist and chin on my shoulder looking at me as I stared outside at the view all around us, of Rome. Oh my god.

"I'm going to collapse.", I mumbled.

"Please don't.", Harry chuckled kissing my neck. 

"Happy?", he asked. Instead of replying, I turned around in his arms and grabbed the sides of his face, pressing my lips onto his. "Marvelous.", I whispered out and he beamed.

"Me too!", he said pulling away going to the bathroom. I continued gaping for a while, then collapsed on to the bed on my back, my hair splaying all over it. Harry collapsed beside me soon.

"So,", he said. "We've got five days. What do you want to do first?"

I reached out a hand to comb through his hair. "Hm.. dinner? Then maybe we can find some maps and plan out where we'll go tomorrow?"

"Reasonable. Anything else?"

Rolling over on my stomach, I rested my elbow on his chest. "Yes, I would like a very, very long and very relaxing shower with my husband."

Harry grinned, eyes twinkling as he pulled me in, resting my head on the crook of his neck.

"Now that, I agree with."

_____________________________________________________________

"Harry I swear-"

"Coloseum's boring! I say Trevi Fountain."

"What about St. Peter's Bastilica?"

He stole another bite of my cake. "Mine was better.", he said about the cake.

"Maybe you shouldn't have inhaled your piece then."

Pushing me onto my back, he nipped my nose. "Ah, who asked you?"

"You did, actually. Now move."

"You're not being very fun."

I sighed and pushed myself up to recline on the pillows. "You are not being very agreeable curly. If we map out our stops right, we can visit all these places and still have time for dinner. Now, most cab rides take about eight minutes so-"

"y/n. Listen to yourself, this is not a math problem!"

I pouted and placed the brochures down. "Well what do you want me to do babe? I'm trying to make the most of this while we're here."

"And we can.", he promised, scooting closer and draping his arm around me. "But you shouldn't be stressing over it. If we have time for certain shops, great. If not, it's okay. We've both been working our asses off before the wedding right? Planning it while we worked as well? Now when we go back, we both have to get back to work. So, I just want to relax and spend some time with you. That's what a honeymoon's for, isn't it?"

I nodded softly, slipping my hand into his. "I'm sorry, I guess it wouldn't kill me to mellow out a bit."

"That's my girl." He kissed my forehead then picked up another brochure. "In the spirit of compromise, I will go to the Colosseum with you."

"Thank you, and I will get us to the Trevi Fountain."

He beamed and pulled me over his lap. He took a red pen out, the two of us working together, placing it on my thigh to mark it up and take occasional breaks to cuddle or tease each other.

"We make a good couple.", I blurted out, unintentionally letting him know what I was thinking about. He chuckled and kissed my earlobe. "The best."

______________________________________________________________

"That was wonderful."

"It was alright."

I thumped Harry's arm. "Are you serious? Michelangelo painted that!"

"So?"

"S-So," I spluttered. "It's beautiful!"

"Not as beautiful as you.", he said slipping two fingers in the back pocket of my jeans, pulling me closer. "Not even close. You are art darling, this is nothing."

I blushed as he kissed my cheek, strolling down the cobblestone pathways through a fairly busy square. Music would get louder or softer as we passed different shops. Harry would turn to whisper to me something he saw in the crowd.

"That woman's got her suit on backwards.", he murmured, nodding his head in her direction. And it was true. She was wearing a red suite backwards, and spoke loudly in Italian. I giggled and held on tighter to his arm, careful to step around fellow tourists. 'That's Amore' started playing in the humble gelato shop, the powerful chords of Dean Martin's voice resonating through the pathway.

"Let's dance."

I barely had the time to react as Harry set my purse down on a table outside the shop and pulled me against his chest, moving my left hand to his shoulder and clasping my right in his.

"Curly what are you-"

"No talking.", he cut off, dramatically placing a finger on my lips. "Tonight, we only speak in the language of-" he stomped his foot, clapping once over his head. "zee tango!"

My eyebrows flew up, not only at his accent, but also at the strength of his arms as he promptly twirled us around the narrow isle. I blushed under the confused gaze of the gelato employees. For now, all I could do was try not to trip over his huge feet as another song began playing.

Eventually Harry looked down and slowed his pace.

"Sorry sweetheart.", he gave me a grin, shrugging and bringing us to a stop. "Just feeling the moment."

I stared at him for a few dead seconds, trying to figure what goes through in his head. He could go from posh to a lunatic in 0.2 seconds and still have the ability to ask how I was feeling. Digging around his sparkling green eyes, I realized that's just who he is. He always did what he pleased. He's not afraid to show the world who is. He is himself, all the time. That goofy, idiotic, clumsy, super sweet, kind, gorgeous man he is. 

I gave up and brought my hands around his neck. He smiled and pulled me closer, setting his big hands on my hips, our foreheads almost touching.

"There are many men in the world.", he murmured, twirling me under the afternoon sky. "Better looking, funnier, just way cooler men.."

"And?"

"And..you're out of my league."

I rolled my eyes, annoyed with his crazy talk. We spun, shuffled and swayed through three more songs.

"What about the basilica?", he asked as I sung my purse of the shoulder and we linked hands again.

"A very wise man, once told me, that this is my honeymoon, and I should enjoy it. And so far, I really have."

"Hm, tell me about this man. He makes you happy?"

"The happiest on the planet."

I got a kiss on the cheek for that.

"He's a good person?"

"Perfect."

Another kiss.

"Good in bed?"

"The best."

Chuckling he leaned to whisper in my ear. "Then maybe he is in your league." Then he kissed my earlobe.

"Hm, maybe.", I played along smiling and kissed his temple. 

"I love you so much y/n, I'm having the best time ever.", Harry sighed peacefully and kissed my hair.

"I love you more Harry I'm also having the best time ever. And it's not because of the places, I mean it of course is, but, it's because you are with me."

Harry smiled and squeezed my waist. "I agree, except for one thing."

"What?"

"I love you most."

[zzztlk]

rabel’s design meshes classic demon stuff with cool fruit and plant theming really well! How’d you come up with it?

Ty.. he's gone through many phases of overdesign and underdesign and eventually he'll change again I'm sure but I can tell you about how he became the funny animal with a fruit at the end of his tail he is today under the cut

The main basis for his design (and the visuals of ttb in general) is the devil and lovers tarot cards. A major theme in both of these cards is the juxtaposition of opposites (man vs woman, mountain vs river and the burning tree of life vs. the fruitful tree of knowledge). So yeah that's where the fruit + fire thing came from. In a previous iteration his tail flourish was a combination of those seen on the figures in the devil card. I still think it's cute but I made it a fig since that's the fruit I'm using in the story.

Fun fact 1: the forbidden fruit is based off the strangler fig specifically which is what the tendrils in the teaser are. (Also the plants coming from the portal are trees of heaven and monsteras)

Similarly the image of baphomet, which is often associated with the devil, echoes this theme of the unification of binary elements. So his incarnate form is based largely off of that along with the demon pazuzu (bc exorcist reference).

Still settling on a version I like but here are some recent explorations (fun fact 2: The specific animals in Rabel's design are a wolf, goat, snake and Asian koel/cuckoo bird. Will elaborate on that last one another day)

Also the sun is a third element I incorporated as a bridge trait to join the fire and plant aspects but it gets too much into abilities and spoilers and stuff but like, you know what the sun does. Anyway that's it for now if you read all this thanks for reading :P

[debussy42]

teashop

hi guys ◡̈ first and foremost, I want to say WOW. I did not expect people to actually read my stories and enjoy them like I do. I was using this blog as a place to dump and reread stories when I need to refresh my soul or get motivation to study hahaha, but I'm glad people enjoy my work :D

wc: 4k ish

"Historia!" You run up to the blonde-haired girl, a wide grin on your face. "Let's go get breakfast? Morning class is cancelled."

Historia looks up from the papers she was reading, a small smile tugging at her lips as she nods. “Sounds good. I think Sasha was up early too—though knowing her, she’s already eaten half the kitchen.”

You chuckle, tossing your cloak over your shoulders properly before falling into step beside her. The morning air is crisp as the two of you step outside, the cool touch of dawn settling against your skin in contrast to the warmth of the tea still in your hands. The sky is brushed with soft hues of lavender and pale gold, the first whispers of the sun creeping over the horizon.

The headquarters is quieter than usual at this hour, with most cadets still dragging themselves out of bed or taking advantage of the rare opportunity to sleep in. The lack of urgency feels strange but welcome, a contrast to the usual rush of training schedules and classes.

As you and Historia walk toward the mess hall, the scent of fresh bread and brewed coffee drifts through the courtyard, mingling with the dewy morning air. A few birds flit between the rooftops, their distant chirping blending with the soft murmur of conversation trickling from inside.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, you step into the familiar warmth of the mess hall. The long wooden tables are only partially filled, a few early risers scattered about, quietly eating or still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

And, as expected, Sasha is already there, a plate piled with bread, eggs, and what looks like half of someone else’s portion. Connie sits across from her, slouched over his breakfast, still looking half-asleep.

Historia sighs, shaking her head with an amused smirk. “Sasha, is this your second plate?”

Sasha barely looks up, cheeks stuffed with food. “Third,” she corrects, muffled.

Connie groans, rubbing his temples. “I swear, the rest of us are gonna starve because of her.”

You chuckle as you and Historia grab trays, moving toward the serving area. The breakfast selection is simple but hearty—freshly baked bread, porridge, eggs, and fruit. You take your portion, grateful for the rare slow morning, before sitting beside Historia across from the duo.

Sasha eyes your plate before glancing up at you. “Are you gonna finish that?”

Historia swipes a piece of bread off Sasha’s tray before she can protest, taking a small, delicate bite. “Eat what you already have first.”

Sasha groans dramatically, but the teasing familiarity between you all makes you smile.

You take a sip of your tea, letting the warmth settle in your chest.

For once, the morning isn’t a blur of exhaustion and rushing.

For once, there is peace.

And for now—that is enough.

—

You wave goodbye to your friends before heading off to your first class. Going through discussion partially confused but making it out alive, you stop by headquarters for a brief reprieve before the next class starts.

After a moment's hesitation, you decide to brew another hot cup of tea. The steam curls lazily from the surface of your tea as you cradle the cup in your hands, letting its warmth seep into your fingers. The common room is quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire and the occasional shuffle of boots passing through the halls. It’s a rare lull in the day, a moment between responsibilities—a breath you hadn’t realized you needed.

Your presentation had gone fine, or at least, you made it out without embarrassing yourself. The discussion had been challenging, but you pushed through, even if there were moments of uncertainty. You sip the tea, letting the bitterness of the leaves settle on your tongue.

“Didn’t see you in class this morning.”

The voice is low, familiar.

You glance up to see Levi standing near the doorframe, arms crossed, gaze flickering briefly to the cup in your hands before settling on you. His uniform is sharp as always, but there’s a faint tiredness at the edges of his expression, the kind only someone who knows him well enough would notice.

You huff amusedly. “First time in a while I actually could’ve made it, and it was canceled.”

Levi exhales, something almost like amusement passing through his eyes before he looks away. “Tch. Figures.”

You smile softly, swirling the tea in your cup. “I just stopped by for a break before my next class.”

He studies you for a moment, sharp eyes scanning the exhaustion you haven’t quite managed to shake. Then, with the barest flicker of movement, he steps into the room, crossing the space in quiet, measured strides.

Without a word, he reaches for the spare cup near the kettle and pours himself some tea.

You raise a brow. “Didn’t peg you for a mid-day tea break kind of person, Captain.”

Levi doesn’t glance up as he sets the cup down, letting the steam rise between you. “Didn’t peg you for someone who starts something she won’t finish.”

You blink.

Then, you glance at your still-full cup, then back at him.

Oh.

He doesn’t say it outright, but you know what he means.

You’d made the tea, fully aware that you wouldn’t have time to drink it all before leaving. You’d rushed, even in a moment meant for pause.

You exhale slowly, gripping the ceramic between your fingers. “I guess I’m still learning how to stop for a second.”

Levi lifts his own cup, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. “Then learn.”

The words are simple. Not a command, not a scolding. Just a statement, one that lingers in the space between you, heavier than it should be.

You sigh but relent, bringing the cup back to your lips, taking a slow, deliberate sip this time.

Levi nods, barely perceptible, as if satisfied with that small act alone.

For a moment, neither of you speak, content to let the silence stretch as the tea cools between you.

"So, Captain..." You look down at my warm mug of tea before passing your gaze at him and towards one of the windows. "What class do you teach? Do you even teach a class? I don't see much use out of you except for killing titans and germs, or at least what you're willing to do anyways. And I know Commander Erwin doesn't force you to do anything you don't want, so how do you spend your days when you're not training our squad?"

The barrage of questions started tumbling out, too fast to be stopped. Quickly snapping your mouth shut, you opt for swirling the liquid in your cup in hopes of cooling it faster.

Levi exhales through his nose, his grip firm around his mug as he takes another slow sip. His gaze remains unreadable, though you catch the brief flicker of something—mild exasperation, maybe, or the faintest trace of amusement.

“Tch. You’re real mouthy today.”

You smile sheepishly, leaning forward slightly. “I’m just curious. I apologize for being too forward, Captain."

Levi sets his cup down with practiced precision, his fingers lingering against the ceramic before he finally speaks.

“I don’t teach,” he says, flatly.

You tilt your head. “Not surprising.”

He ignores that. “I oversee advanced ODM training, but I leave most of the instruction to the officers who actually enjoy wasting their breath on cadets who don’t listen.”

Your lips twitch. “Do you-"

Levi lifts a brow. “Not done talking yet.”

You hold up your hands in surrender, letting him continue.

“When I’m not stuck dealing with you brats, I handle logistics with Erwin, monitor expeditions, oversee supply chains, and make sure someone is keeping the barracks in order.” His fingers tap once against the table. “Not that anyone listens.”

You take a slow sip of tea, musing. “So, basically… paperwork?”

Levi gives you a deadpan look.

You grin. “Just saying, Captain. That’s a lot of logistics for a guy who hates sitting still.”

Levi sighs, rolling his shoulders back slightly. “It’s necessary.”

You watch him carefully—the way his jaw tightens just slightly, the way his fingers subtly flex, the way his gaze shifts toward the window.

And suddenly, you get it.

It’s not that Levi likes handling paperwork.

It’s that it’s the only thing he can do when he’s not fighting.

Because fighting is simple. Killing titans is simple. But what happens in the spaces between? When there’s no blade in his hands, no immediate threat to cut down—when the war isn’t fought in a moment, but in endless preparation?

You let the silence stretch for a moment, then lean forward, resting your chin in your palm.

“So… if you could do anything else—something that doesn’t involve titans, or paperwork, or making sure Jean doesn’t leave his uniform a mess—what would you do?”

Levi blinks, clearly not expecting the question.

His eyes flicker toward you, scanning for something—maybe waiting for you to turn it into a joke, to laugh it off.

But you don’t.

Because you mean it.

For a moment, Levi says nothing. The candlelight flickers between you, the soft crackle of the fireplace filling the silence.

Then—

“I don’t know.”

It’s quiet. Honest. A rare admission from a man who always seems to have an answer for everything.

You watch him carefully, the way his gaze lingers toward the window again, unfocused, distant.

And for the first time, you wonder if Levi Ackerman has ever had the luxury of wondering what else he could be.

If he has ever let himself imagine it.

The thought settles heavy in your chest.

You exhale softly, leaning back, deciding not to press further. “Well, I think you’d be a great sanitation inspector.”

Levi scoffs, the corner of his lip twitching just slightly. “Tch. Hilarious.”

You grin, satisfied.

The conversation shifts, moves on, but the weight of his words lingers.

I don’t know.

And you wonder, if given the chance—if the war ever ends—whether he’d ever let himself find out.

"What about a tea shop?"

It was a soft murmur, a barely there statement of a dream. If it had been spoken as more than a mere whisper, it would have vanished. But it stood there, waiting to be claimed.

"It would be nice, I think." You start again, smiling softly and heart lurching. "To have a tea shop, and have a home."

The words settle in the quiet air between you, lingering, delicate as the steam curling from your tea.

Levi doesn’t answer right away.

His fingers tighten slightly around his cup, his gaze flickering toward the window, as if looking anywhere but at you. The candlelight shifts across his face, casting soft shadows beneath his lashes, outlining the sharp angles of his features in something almost gentle.

It would be so easy to take back what you said. To laugh it off, to turn it into some fleeting joke, to wave away the vulnerability before it has the chance to settle.

But you don’t.

Because the idea—small as it is, fragile as it feels—is real.

It’s a glimpse of something beyond this life. Beyond war, beyond duty, beyond the never-ending cycle of fighting and losing and bleeding for a cause that may never see the peace it hopes for.

And maybe, just maybe, Levi hears it too.

Not as something ridiculous.

But as something possible.

His lips part slightly, like he might say something, but he hesitates. His fingers flex once against the ceramic of his cup, before finally, finally—

“…A tea shop?”

His voice is quiet, careful, like testing the weight of something fragile.

You nod, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Yeah.” You exhale softly. “I think… it’d be nice. To have a place of our own. Somewhere safe. Somewhere warm. A place that isn’t just another stop between battles.”

You smile, small but real. “We’d be good at it.”

Levi exhales through his nose. “We?”

You smirk. “Well, obviously. You don’t think I’d let you run it alone, do you?”

He scoffs, shaking his head slightly. “Tch. Sounds like more work than killing titans.”

But there’s no bite in his tone.

No dismissal.

If anything—he’s considering it.

You watch him closely, the way his shoulders shift, the way his thumb absently brushes the rim of his cup. He’s quiet for a long moment, long enough that you almost think he won’t say anything else at all.

Then, with the faintest, barely-there shift of his gaze toward you—

“…What kind of tea shop?”

It’s not agreement. It’s not commitment.

But it’s something.

Something real.

And it makes your chest ache in a way you can’t quite name.

You hum, tilting your head in thought. “One with big windows,” you murmur, staring down into your tea. “So the sunlight can come in during the mornings.”

Levi doesn’t interrupt.

“One with shelves full of every tea you can think of. Simple ones, fancy ones—ones we’d blend ourselves. Maybe even pastries. Small ones, like the ones in the market.”

You shift slightly, voice softer now, the idea growing, no longer something fleeting, but something with roots. “And maybe a garden, too. Just a small one out back. So we can grow some of our own herbs.”

Levi is watching you. You can feel it.

The weight of his gaze, the sharp attentiveness in it, like he’s memorizing every word, every tiny detail you’re offering.

You press your lips together, smiling faintly. “It wouldn’t have to be much. Just… a place to be.”

A home.

A future.

A life beyond the battlefield.

The silence that follows is thick with something unspoken, something that lingers, waiting, stretching between you like an unfinished thought.

And then—

“…That does sound nice,” Levi murmurs.

It’s barely a breath. A quiet admission, spoken so softly that if you weren’t listening, you might have missed it entirely.

But you didn’t miss it.

And your heart tightens at the realization that maybe—just maybe—Levi Ackerman could dream of something more, too.

"I'd be the best worker you have. No one knows your particular tastes and preferences for brewing more than I do. I won't bother you more than I already do now," You chuckle, pausing to let the next statement pierce you slowly and gently, "and once you find someone to love and spend the rest of your life with, I can leave along with this now that will inevitably become the past."

Levi stills.

The words settle between you like ripples on still water—soft at first, gentle even, but lingering.

His fingers tighten, just slightly, around his cup. His gaze doesn’t flicker away this time, doesn’t shift toward the window or down at his tea. Instead, he looks at you directly, expression unreadable, quiet in a way that isn’t empty, but full.

“…Oi.” The sound is almost too quiet to hear. He exhales through his nose, setting his cup down with deliberate precision. “You say that like you’ve already made up your mind.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the edge in his voice—not sharp, not cutting, but something else. Something measured.

“I just mean—” You let out a soft breath, eyes drifting toward the candlelight flickering between you. “Things change, Captain. We grow. We move on.”

Levi doesn’t look away. “And you think you’d have to?”

Your breath hitches slightly, but you try to force a chuckle, to shake off the weight of this conversation before it buries itself too deep in your chest. “Well, yeah. You’d want space with—with whoever you end up with. A tea shop isn’t meant for three, Captain.”

You smile, but it’s fragile.

Because you mean it.

Because even if this dream—the tea shop, the slow mornings, the soft warmth of a life that isn’t built on survival—even if it were possible… it was never something you believed you could be a part of forever.

It would belong to him.

To his future.

To whoever is lucky enough to be at his side when the war is over.

You let out a breath, lifting your cup again, though you don’t drink. “It’s okay, though. Really. I’d just be happy to see you in a life like that.”

The silence that follows is heavy, stretching long between you.

You expect Levi to scoff. To roll his eyes and tell you you’re thinking too far ahead. To dismiss it.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he studies you for a long moment, his fingers tapping once against the table. Then—

“You talk too much,” he mutters, voice unreadable.

You smirk slightly. “That’s not news, Captain.”

But before you can turn away, before you can make some offhand comment to shift the conversation back to safer ground—

Levi shifts forward, elbows resting against the table, gaze unwavering.

“Why do you think I’d want that?”

The question catches you completely off guard. “What?”

Levi exhales, slow and steady. “Why do you think I’d want to start over with someone else?”

Your throat tightens. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“You did.” Levi’s voice doesn’t waver. It isn’t cruel, isn’t harsh—but it is firm. Steady. Like he’s waiting for an answer that he already knows you don’t want to say aloud.

You swallow. “Because you deserve it.”

Levi stares at you.

“You deserve to have that kind of life, Levi,” you say, more softly this time, feeling something fragile slip into your tone. “A life that isn’t built on death and war. A life where you’re not constantly looking over your shoulder. Where you can—” You pause, exhaling. “Where you can have a family.”

Your heart clenches around the word.

Levi shifts slightly, but his gaze never leaves yours. His fingers tighten around his cup again, and for a moment, the only sound in the room is the faint crackling of the fire.

Then, at last—

“I don’t need a future that doesn’t include you.”

The words are quiet. Barely above a murmur.

But they cut through you like lightning.

Your breath catches.

Levi exhales, gaze flickering down just briefly before returning to you, his voice steady but weighted when he speaks again.

“So don’t talk like you’re temporary.”

A lump forms in your throat.

He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t shift, doesn’t let you escape from the weight of what he just said.

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out—not at first. You struggle to breathe, to understand what this means.

Because Levi doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean.

And yet—

Here you are.

And here he is, looking at you like the idea of losing you was something he hadn’t let himself think about until just now.

You grip your cup tighter, heart pounding.

“…I won’t go anywhere,” you murmur at last, voice soft, barely above the quiet hum of the fire.

Levi studies you for a moment longer, gaze dark, unreadable.

Then, ever so slightly, he exhales, shifting back just slightly, as if settling.

“…Good.”

The moment lingers, stretching between you in the warm glow of the candlelight.

The tea cools between your hands, but you don’t mind.

Because for now, for this moment—

You aren’t thinking about leaving.

And Levi Ackerman isn’t thinking about a future without you in it.

The candlelight flickers between you, casting long, golden shadows against the worn wooden table. The fire in the hearth crackles softly, its warmth stretching into the quiet space, wrapping around you both in a rare moment of stillness.

Levi doesn’t speak, but he doesn’t have to. His presence is steady, certain—an anchor against the tides of uncertainty that have ruled your lives for so long.

The last sip of tea lingers on your tongue, bitter but warm, and you let it settle deep in your chest.

This—this—is something neither of you have ever allowed yourselves before.

A moment where the world doesn’t demand. Where the war doesn’t press its weight into your shoulders. Where survival isn’t measured in blood spilled or orders given, but in something quieter.

In possibility.

The thought unsettles something deep inside you.

Because hope—real hope—has always been dangerous.

It is not the kind of reckless faith that keeps soldiers marching toward inevitable death. It is not the kind of blind devotion that fuels last stands and desperate battles.

It is something softer, smaller. Something that sneaks in through cracks in the armor, settles in the spaces between exhaustion and resolve.

It is a tea shop, tucked away in a quiet town. A place where the mornings belong to warm sun spilling through windows, where people come not out of necessity, but out of choice.

It is not running. It is not hiding.

It is living.

You set your empty cup down, fingers tracing the rim absently as your mind sways between the reality of now and the fragile, growing promise of someday.

Levi watches you, his own cup balanced loosely between his fingers. He is quiet, always quiet, but there is a softness in the way his gaze lingers—an understanding, a knowing.

And maybe, just maybe—he is feeling the same thing.

The precarious balance between duty and dreams. The weight of survival measured against the whisper of what if.

You inhale deeply, blinking back the exhaustion clinging to the edges of your thoughts.

No matter what comes next, no matter what battles still wait beyond the horizon, you will get through it.

Because he trusts you.

And you—for the first time in a long time—are allowing yourself to trust in something beyond just making it to tomorrow.

Maybe the soil has been made ready.

Maybe the seed will grow.

And maybe, just maybe—when this war is over, when the dust has settled and the swords have been laid to rest—there will still be something left standing.

You glance at Levi, offering him a quiet, tired smile.

Hope has always been dangerous.

But today, you let it stay. 

You look at the clock and purse your lips. The best moments always seem to be the ones that linger on more than necessary, where duty beckons you to follow once again.

"Captain." You clear your throat softly, too flustered by the soft intimacy of this moment to meet his eyes. You bow slightly, taking your cup and standing up.

"Your company, especially one as busy as yourself," You smile teasingly, "was much appreciated. I have to get to class now. Can't miss another one or you'll have me running laps until dinner."

Levi exhales, the sound somewhere between a sigh and an amused scoff. His arms cross over his chest, and though his posture remains as strict as ever, there’s something lighter in the way he looks at you—something unreadable but present.

“Tch. Maybe running laps would do you some good,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite to his words.

You chuckle softly, adjusting the weight of your cup in your hands. “Not today, Captain. I’ve already fallen behind on enough.”

He gives a short nod, a silent acknowledgment of the responsibilities pulling you away. Levi has always been someone tethered to duty, bound to the expectations of what must be done rather than what could be. And yet, for this brief moment, he had chosen to sit here with you. To let the weight of time stretch just a little longer than necessary.

You glance at the clock again, sighing before looking back at him. “I should go.”

Levi doesn’t stop you, doesn’t ask you to stay longer—not that you expect him to. He’s not the type to cling, not the type to voice what lingers beneath the surface.

But as you turn to leave, he speaks.

“Don’t fall asleep in class.”

You pause, turning back to see him watching you with that same unreadable expression. There’s something soft in his gaze, something careful in the way his fingers tap once against the rim of his empty cup.

You grin, tilting your head. “And if I do?”

Levi clicks his tongue. “Then I’ll personally make sure you regret it.”

A laugh escapes you before you can help it. “Noted.”

With one last glance, one final moment where the silence between you is not empty, you bow slightly, just enough to tease but not enough to be formal. Then, with your cup still warm in your hands, you turn and step away—back into the pull of duty, back into the rhythm of lectures and assignments and responsibilities waiting just beyond the threshold.

But as you walk away, you swear you can feel his gaze lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

And that, more than anything, makes you smile.

I love Levi. And I hope that he has hope too. 

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Dessert Paradise: Bitter-Step and Sugar

{After accompanying Pilot Cookie and Whipped Cream Cookie on their adventure to the fabled: Dessert Paradise. Along with the return of Sugar Swan Cookie, things seem well... Yet something is amiss.}

[CROB SLIGHT Various / Reader]

-

Relaxing beside Pilot Cookie, you smile a bit as the older cookie re-counts the trip the three of you had been on.

"-AND SO... The

Nudging Whipped Cream Cookie slightly, you whisper: "I'm a bit suprised you could could carry me back to the plane. You didn't need too." You say, watching the dancer smile fondly at the memory.

"Ah, yes. Well, I couldn't help myself, I didn't want to loose you." He said softly, petting Black Sugar Ducks head kindly. The little fluff-ball squaking at him unhappily, yet she still nuzzled into his arms.

"O-oh.. Hehe." You take a deep breath, hoping your dough wouldn't become hotter. "Thanks, bud'." You turn away, giving your attention back to Pilot Cookie.

The ballerino pauses his petting, slowly reaching a hand out to your shoulder...

"Hey!" Black Sugar Duck quacked at him.

"O-oh, sorry.." The ballet dancers touch soothed her dark feathers. Glancing at his longing expression at you. Envious of him that he got to be so close to you. Much less carry you! Unfair!

"Hmph! You're a coward!" She stated, head raised high as she looked at him. "If I was like you, I could carry them whenever they wish." The small duck huffs at him, feathers ruffling up.

"What's this now?" You turn your attention to Black Sugar Duck and Whipped Cream Cookie, confused.

"O-oh, um..." His pink frosted eyes locked with your own. Words trailing off, not sure what to say.

The duckling sighs, giving her pity to him.

Stomping her flippers, she calls to you. "(Y/N) Cookie, I wanna' carry you too!"

You blink, a small giggle slips out as you gaze down at the bird. "Uh-.. Well, how about I hold you in my lap instead?" You give a look to Whipped Cream Cookie, to see if he was fine with it. The male merely smiles, nodding.

"... I'll consider it." She relents. Waddling over to your lap as she shuffles and gets comfortable. You in turn, lean your head on Whipped Cream Cookies shoulder, still watching Pilot Cookie. "After everything. We made it. I mean- I know we would. B-because of my.. Intuition?"

You play off your blunder. Not sure how to explain you knew the next events in "Peril in Paradise" story arc. Frowning at the thought as you pet Black Suagr Duck.

"Me too.." Whipped Cream Cookie rests his head beside your frosted locks. Gazing at the delightful scene in front of him. "Truly, I couldn't agree more." He mumbles softly.

-

Knowing the events after, you sigh at the sight of the Paradise. The air becoming cold, jellies and fruit becoming rotten. It was much creepier in person- or in the dough? You ignore your thoughts. Hoping to find Wind Archer Cookie and the Cookiemals.

Clothes in a bit of disarray and mud, you head forward. Stumbling upon the once shimmering sugar castle. Now shrouded in dark colors a dim lights.

-

If (Y/N) Cookie had a costume based on the event. I think it would/n't be on Swan Lake.

I'd like to think It could just be a ballet outfit, but also. It wouldn't make too much sense since Black Suagr Swan and Whip already have one.

But maybe? Maybe based on Odette? Or One of the Swans in lake?

Or! Maybe, based on Paradise outfits, a guardian outfit would look cute!

Blue Slushy Cookie excitedly chirps as she flails around your form. You smile bashfully, adjusting the outfit. "Don't they look cool? Red Panna Cotta Cookie, Wind Archer Cookie!" The smaller guardian chirps.

"They.. Ahem, look decent." Red Panna Cotta coughs in his feathers, glancing away. Wind Archer nods to you, bowing. "It fits you."

Now for Black Sugar Swan and Whip... Different story.

"Hm! Now, even you, (Y/N) Cookie. Can bask in my brilliant's radience! Oho!" Black Sugar Swan coos sweetly, eyeing you from where you stood.

"Black Sugar Du-!"

"QUIET!"

She shrieks, "I.. I will not be reminded of such a feeble bird."

You outstretch your hand, "I.. I'm sorry, but please listen-"

Feeling a hand tug you back, your dough lands on someone else's chest. Blinking, you look at the new presence.

"Whipped Cream Cookie..."

-

[Thanks for reading, comments, art, reblogs or hearts are super welcomed! I've been wanting to post this since the update! I love Whips costume, the wholw prince vibe is amazing!]

[nikosama13]

"Confess Properly!" (Law x Reader)

Description: Law was puzzled about something… you. He can’t place his finger on whether it’s that you pay close attention to him or that you are an easy-going person. On top of all of that you were in fact, beautiful and you always had everyone’s back. You were like an angel in Law’s eyes, but it’s not like he’d tell you that. But one day that all changes when the rest of the crew speaks about your traits and personality.

Side Notes: Hey loves! I’m new to writing fanfic’s so please go easy on me. (I'm also running off of 2 energy drinks and One Piece) ⚆ _ ⚆ (Most likely spelling mistakes)

~~~

Law had always been fond of you ever since he saw you and even before he had formed an alliance with Straw Hat Luffy. But there’s one thing that puzzles him.. he doesn't know why, but he much preferred you over anyone else in the crew. Probably because you made him onigiris when you paid close attention to his dislikes such as bread or the fact that you were peaceful and it didn't take much to please you.

However one day things change.. His hold on his glass mug tightened, seeing as Bartolomeo swoons and fanboys over you. He gritted his teeth as jealousy ran through his veins, it took all of him not to use his devil fruit.

"Tch. Damn Rooster-ya."

~~~

The ocean air had a cool yet refreshing breeze. The sun shined bright as birds chirped happily above, the waters being surprisingly calm as the smell of salty water filled the air. It was a nice break from all the chaos and action on the ship.

Law was still in a bad mood as he leaned against the wooden railing of the deck.

You were out on the same small deck looking out at the view in the distance, with a plastic old chair you took from your room.

“Oh hi Law..” you said tiredly.

He glanced up at you, seeing your innocent smile that had the chance to make anyone's day better, made him soften just a little bit.

The doctor sighed as he leaned back on the railing, crossing his arms to keep himself from doing something he'd regret. He had to keep a poker face.

"Ah, uh, hey."

“What's with the grumpy mood..?” you said peacefully.

"..nothing."

He replied in a monotone voice, trying to not look at you. He wasn’t trying to be rude but definitely came off as he was. He was just jealous that those other guys were drooling all over you.

“Well it seems like something..”

Law scoffed, and leaned on the railing again, he hated it when you saw through his facade. He clenched his fists as he looked down at the waters below. Why did he feel this way about you? What was it about you..

"..forget about it. It's nothing important."

Law crossed his arms a little tighter as he glared out into the ocean, trying to suppress his emotions. It seemed pretty clear you knew something was wrong, it seemed his face told a lot more than he wanted it to.

"..it's nothing, just a little irritated from all that.. Attention…"

“What attention..?”

"You know what attention."

He grumbled as he clenched his fists tighter. This was exactly why he hated Bartolomeo and hated how much he loved you.

"The way he keeps going on and on, those other guys- it's just so annoying. All they do is drool and worship you."

“Oh.. I dont care much about them..”

"…r-really?"

Law's gaze snapped towards you as you casually mentioned not caring about them. He couldn't help but feel a small bit of jealousy rise up again from that. He hated this feeling.

"I know…it's just annoying, all of it. They keep saying how you're ‘perfect’ and everything else.. they're right though.." He muttered under his breath.

“Wait did you just-”

"…did I do what?"

He glanced back at you, he was trying to keep a stiff upper lip with the way his cheeks were burning. He didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to say what he really meant.

“Did you just agree with them..?”

He sighed as he leaned on the railing once more. If this was a different situation he would give an answer in a snarky tone but with that small amount of jealousy he couldn't manage it.

"..yes."

“So that means..”

"It means what?!"

He grumbled as he felt his cheeks getting a little bit hot. He didn't want to admit anything, but his emotions were betraying him.

“You know..”

Law couldn't help but feel a little bit red from how obvious it was getting. He sighed as his gaze went back towards the waters below, the sun setting in the distance made everything a little more romantic and pleasant.

"…yeah. I do."

“Then confess to me properly.”

"…are you serious?"

He raised an eyebrow at you, maybe he wasn't hearing this properly. He was already surprised you had a pretty good clue on how he felt about you, so he didn't think you'd actually want him to say it.

“Come on, there is no point in hiding it.”

"I…"

He had to clear his throat, he had always been a very stoic and calm one so he didn't like how much you were making him stutter. But you were right, it was pretty obvious how he felt about you. He didn't need to hide anything.

"I like you." He muttered quickly, waiting for you to say something to his confession.

“..and I like you back.”

Law was taken aback by you saying those words back to him. He had been expecting a "Sorry" or a "no" but not an "I like you back" he was stunned into silence for a minute, trying to gather his thoughts.

"You…you feel the same way about me?" He asked as he looked at you, surprised and hopeful that you did.

His cheeks heated up as he couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was overjoyed to hear you say such things to him. He had liked you for so long and it had been obvious to everyone else how much he was into you. Hearing you liked him back was something he had always dreamed out.

~~~

The End~

(This took soo long to make and I’m super happy with it.) ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ Consider Following..?

Thank you for reading.

[sweetestpotatoes10011]

List of ranfren characters favourite foods i made hehe

Randal- he's a weeb kinda, loves ramune and soda float even if it tastes like regular soda to him(it's the aesthetics) but looks like the type to love hot chocolate and junk food like instant ramen, ice cream, pizza, chips... i woke up so i'm not thinking much about anything.

Luther- cooks for himself, the simple things that make life better... pancake, eggies, bacon...is a tea or morning coffee person. But not the strong types of tea or coffee.

Nyon- Pizza. What else is there?

Nyen- While he likes killing prey, i don't think he necessarily eats it, maybe likes the irony taste of blood. Definitely eats whatever Luther cooks for him, i like to imagine he tried making Kurt Cobain's no-bake cookies once and failed but still had to eat it.

Sebastian- He looks like a guy to love chicken wings or KFC in general. I don't know, whenever i see a ginger man i always think they might be into chicken. Maybe it's just the hair colour, or maybe the fact his illegal name has chicken legs in it so there must be a connection...right?

Satoru- i don't think dream citizens get hungry, but he would eat whatever Randal gives him. (Weeb food woohoo) Likes his stuff to be orange flavoured

Kitty carpet- Lasagna, they look alike and hopefully you get the reference...i guess she also eats stuff like bedbugs or chips crumbs that fall in the carpet.

Nana- frozen treats like rats(canonly eats anything Luther gives her from the fridge), random roaches and flies that in the basement. Heavy on people too.

Hitchiker A- deerman, any type of subhumans/(animal)_people, "cats"(the mini ones), likes his meat to be as fresh as still alive.

HitchhikerB- weed brownies. I don't even have to explain why. Also, i noticed he liked the sausages at the campfire so i guess he also likes meat, i can read through his humble personality and i know the son of a bitch probably expected Luther to give away rosemary steaks that day(his number 2 food)

The ratmen- as i previously mentioned 100 years ago, the ratmen are probably the characters i least cared about, not in a hateful type of way.. I forced myself to like them once but they're not the ones for me. Design wise they're cool.. about favourite food, i remember Robert snatching chips so i think they probably like stuff like yellow cheese(lol), chips with cheese flavour, beer(or any alcohol).

Shout-outs

Werewoof- Dog food. But since he doesn't have access to that it's just- deermen, rabbits, birds, any smaller animals, WOULD try people(i like to imagine forest entities share the same menu, i mean, what else can you find in a forest? Especially in Canada..) he's also unhinged so i'd say his own poop because it's scientifically confirmed. You gotta survive one way or another.

Guardian angel- Angels don't need to eat because they're not people (if he's biblically accurate) but I've heard you can give them small offerings like fruits, crystals i don't know. What i know is that he would eat like a grandma by nun principles- dried fruit and plain bread, perhaps boiled eggs. He's a feathery one.

Snail girls- leafs and clovers

[stardusthuntress]

Shark Week

TBB x afab!reader (no clone-cest) 

Word count: ~1.1k (short but sweet this time)

Summary: periods suck, but the bad batch is here to help! No smut this time, just comfort from the bestest of bad boys!

A/N: So, I'm on my period (ow), and I wish the batch was here to help... so let's pretend they are! Periods are a roller coaster, so for those who have to deal with one and need a hug from the best bad boys when it gets bad, this is for you! I wrote this as though all the men sorta have a crush on the reader, but it’s not too suggestive, so interpret it however you want! 

also, I know I'm the worst at keeping to a predictable writing schedule which makes it hard for people to keep up with my fics when they are posted. And I do remember that I promised more fun with the Right Attire series before anything else - turns out those ones are harder to write than I expected! I promise those are in the works! For now, have a sweet little period comfort fic instead!

Mando’a: 

Mesh’la = Beautiful 

dividers by @/djarrex

“What’s wrong with you?” Wrecker asks as they return from a market trip and find you curled into a ball around a heating pad, head tucked into your knees, groaning on the couch with a container of pain meds, an empty ice cream container, and an assortment of tissues and tissue boxes scattered across the nearest counter. 

All the gents pause for a moment. 

“Sabotaged by my baby box…” your voice mumbles from around the pillow you’re currently squashing between your lap and heating pad, unwilling to uncurl to do so. 

“Ah, I see.” Says Tech, redirecting his steps from the workbench in the main room to the outdoor one, knowing you like quiet when the pain grips your internal organs like this. 

Echo heads straight to the kitchen and starts filling a water bottle. 

Hunter sits down next to you and leans you against his side, rubbing your back. 

“What?” Asks Wrecker, genuinely confused. 

Crosshair chuckles from where he’s leaned against the doorway to the kitchen, and shifts his toothpick to answer. “She’s on her period, Wrecker.” He states it blatantly, much to your dismay. Not that you didn’t just say the same thing in different words, but somehow it’s the delivery that just grates on your nerves. But before you can spiral down that rabbit hole, Wrecker’s voice drags you from your emotional reverie. 

“Ooooooohhhhh…. Uh…. Want me to make you a nest?” Wrecker tries. 

Echo emerges from the bedrooms, slightly cool water bottle in hand, bowl of fruit under his arm, and a blanket draped over his shoulder, and Tech hot on his heels. “She’s not a bird, Wrecker.” 

“Mmmmm, yes please Wreck,” you mumble again, this time from Hunter’s shoulder. 

Echo chuckles fondly, “Maybe you are our little bird today.” 

“Actually,” Tech’s finger is in the air as he spouts facts, “many mammals also have nesting tendencies. Sometimes it is a child rearing tactic. In many cases it is lumped in with a group of behaviors or time of year, for example hibernation. There is also—“ 

Chuckling fondly at Tech’s incessant fountain of knowledge, you stretch a hand towards your water bottle on the counter, only to have Tech snatch it away as he stops chatting at you. 

“Hey!” You protest, hand going limp on the edge of the table in frustration with a moan of disdain. 

“That one’s empty, here,” Echo gently offers, sliding the one he’d just filled into your hand and sitting on your other side. 

He and Hunter help you sit up without uncurling to drink the water. 

Tech reappears, having deposited the empty water bottle into the kitchen. He stands in front of you with your favorite fuzzy socks, headband, and salty snacks, and a napkin so you can eat where you are. 

You give a tired smile, relaxing a bit as they all take the time to help you through the pain. “Thanks guys.” 

“We’re not done just yet,” Hunter says, placing a kiss on your temple as he stands up. 

You groan at the loss of one of your favorite heaters. 

“He will be right back,” Echo whispers into your other ear, pulling you closer. 

You hum in answer again as you relax into him. 

“Back already,” Hunter plops down beside you again. 

You grumble in protest as your comfy seat bounces in response. 

“Sorry,” he whispers against your shoulder, his hand sliding into yours. But instead of simply intertwining his fingers with yours you find yours getting wrapped around a crinkly package. 

You look down at it, confused, until you notice what it is… your favorite chocolate. 

“Hmmmm, you guys spoil me,” you mumble back. 

“Hmm, not enough,” he and Echo tell you, wrapping you in the blanket Echo brought and rubbing any part of you that they can reach. 

Tech reappears again, having used his brother’s attention on you to disappear yet again without anyone noticing… that is, except Crosshair, who walks beside him carrying an arm full of books. 

“We were unsure which one you are reading at the present time, or if there are several, but these were the books I kept a record of you mentioning most recently. Crosshair’s idea.” Tech finishes with a finger pointing to the sky, rather proudly. 

Behind them Wrecker appears, almost entirely hidden behind the piles of blankets and pillows he’s collected from your room and his. He pauses, and reshuffles so his mismatched eyes can reappear over the top of the multitude of comforts he carries. 

“Where do you wanna be?” He booms excitedly. He always enjoys building nests. 

“Where she is, Wrecker. Don’t make her move.” Crosshair tells him, with his usual grumpiness. 

Wrecker ignores him, still looking at you with a smile in his eye. 

“Na, we need more space than that. We’re all burrowing in with you, Mesh’la,” Hunter instructs. “Move that and we’ll use the floor.” 

Wrecker uses one foot to move things out of the way until Echo, and Crosshair get up and help. 

Hunter stays put, keeping you upright and warm. 

“My Dear,” Tech purrs, “I need you to simply answer yes or no to these questions so that I may make sure we have all necessary items on hand before we settle in.” 

You nod, laughing feebly, “I think you already have everything, but ok.” 

He lets a small proud smirk grace his lips and launches into a list of symptoms and you diligently answer, knowing he just wants to make you feel better. 

20 minutes later and you’re fed and curled up in the middle of 5 caring men, talking softly as you doze off. Your head is in Hunter’s lap as he massages your scalp and shoulders. Echo has your middle where he’s keeping a constant pressure on the heating pad on your abdomen, his hand massaging where your kidneys are to relieve the tension of your body in overdrive. Tech is massaging your feet through the fuzzy socks. Wrecker and Crosshair are spread out in front of you, keeping you in the center of their circle as Crosshair pretends to focus on what’s going on outside the window. Secretly he’s been unwrapping chocolate to feed you whenever you start to seem uncomfortable again. Tucked beneath your arm as you doze, is the book Crosshair pulled from the pile for you at your request. It’s quickly joined by Lula as Wrecker winks at you as he animatedly tells a story from when he walked Omega to Shep’s house for a sleepover this morning. 

“Sleep,” Crosshair whispers to you around his toothpick, “We’re not going anywhere.” 

Tucked between your favorite men in the galaxy, you drift off to a peaceful, relatively pain free, nap. By the time you fall asleep, one hand is tangled in Crosshair’s loose grip, and one in Wrecker’s. 

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it! And NO dropping it into an AI to finish it for me! That’s stealing my work and feeding it to an AI without my consent. It is not okay to give an AI something you didn’t write yourself! 

taglist: @cw80831 @kenobidevil @bambambunny

[venus-vault]

Enlightenment

Mr. Reed × Fem!Reader (18+)

Synopsis: Pt. 1 - (y/n)'s 6am Theology course turns out to be more interesting than anticipated.

⚠️TW: Age Gap, Professor × Student, University Setting, Teacher Crush, Yearning and Longing, General Butterflies.

It is 5:32am and as I climb the steps of the Two Hundred Building, I cannot help but silently curse at myself for voluntarily taking a class that starts this early in the morning. I'm technically early for the first day of 'Theology 207: Cross-Cultural Functions of Belief' which is good. Around 10 minutes of rest can be gained here and I set my messenger bag down, sitting cross-legged beside it and letting my eyes close, my mind clear.

My meditative state is almost immediately broken though, by a cluster of keys jangling down the hallway, paired with a set of weighted footsteps. This must be the professor. He's more casually dressed than others in jeans, sneakers, a simple button-down and checkered cardigan combo. His hair is silver, well kept, blue eyes crinkled at the ends behind wireframed glasses. He smiles, extending a hand down to help me to my feet. "Hello, early-bird. Hope I haven't kept you waiting long." I watch him sort through the gargantuan assortment of keys and unlock the lecture hall, inviting me in.

"Not at all. I'm (y/n), by the way." He sets his bag on the desk at the front of the room, opening it up to look for something. "It's nice to meet you (y/n), I'm Professor Reed." He glances me over his shoulder, eyes lingering along my frame for a moment before refocusing on the task at hand. He pulls out a stack of light green papers -syllibi- and divides the stack in two.

"Since you've bothered to be here so early, would you mind helping me get set up?"

"I'd be glad to."

"Brilliant, one of these on each desk then. You'll start at the highest row, I'll take the lowest, meet in the middle." He hands me a stack of syllibi and I bound the steps of the lecture hall, beginning at the far end of the top row.

Before long, each desk is covered by a little green page and Mr. Reed shakes my hand when we meet again in the middle of the room. "Now then, it'd be selfish of me not to reward your efforts, am I correct to assume you haven't eaten yet today?" His eyes narrow.

"You are." I breathe out a laugh.

"Typical. Come here," he nods toward the desk at the front of the room and I follow him there, where he pulls a small waxed paper bag from his satchel.

"Are you opposed to fruit in pastry?"

"Never, bring it on." I beam.

He chuckles warmly at my enthusiasm and pulls what appears to be an old fashioned donut from the bag. Its perfectly crisp edges and even coat of glaze make my mouth water and he splits it, handing me half. "Blueberry. From the café down the road."

"Thank you, professor."

"Thank You, (y/n). Saving me from myself. It is entirely possible this is the fourth one of these I've had this week."

"Oh?"

"I've stopped counting. Completely addicted. Before long I'll be rolling into the room. You'll see."

I giggle, he smirks, we chat, we eat. Maybe an early class won't be the worst thing in the world. I feel like I could listen to professor Reed talk for hours. Which is probably a good thing, this being a lecture-based course.

"Do you hold office hours?" I blurt, nervous.

He raises a brow at me, mid-bite and swallows.

"Of course, but you don't seem the type that'll need to utilize them, and, at the risk of self-deprication, this is a pretty easy course. Half the class could fall asleep mid-lecture and still pass."

I won't need any help with this course, but I want to know him better. He seems like such an interesting, warm person, and I'm not exactly a social butterfly outside the classroom...

"Maybe so, I'd really like to pick your brain about all this stuff, though. You seem really cool, Professor Reed."

He smiles to himself, looking away just breifly.

"How about this? If you plan to come in this early every week, I'll do the same, and you can pick my brain to pieces right before class."

"I'd like that. As long as you plan to keep sharing your breakfast with me, that is."

"I don't see why not, and another perk of your timeliness : you've got your pick of seats. Better grab one before the 5 minute rush, hm?"

Scanning over the lecture hall, I grab my bag and decide on a desk that's front and center. Professor Reed seems somewhat surprised by my choice, striding over to tap at the edge of the desk.

"You realize this means you're getting called out immediately if I see a phone during class or a wayward glance during testing, yes?"

"I think you'll find I'm very well behaved during course hours, some have even gone so far as to say I am 'a pleasure to have in class'." I air quote, smirking up at him.

"I'll be sure to remember that," he smiles "Something tells me you're not like the other Philosophy majors here, (y/n)." He saunters back to the desk, perching himself back on its edge.

"No?"

"No. I'm finding you quite... pleasant, and unpretentious. Likable, even."

"Oh? Thank you. I like you too, Professor."

"You'll change your tune when it comes time for me to start handing back your assignments though, I'm sure."

"Harsh grading system?"

"Not so much harsh as critical. You wouldn't believe the amount of papers I'm handed that have no real thesis, no point, no opinion, no meat."

"Really?"

He nods, eyes rolling.

"Mm. Seems to be the curse of this major. Hoardes of budding philosophers afraid to express an opinion or explore a fresh perspective. Who'd have thought?" He chuckles to himself and I can't help but simper in response.

We're interrupted by a small group of students chattering as they wander in, he greets them, I watch them pass by, opting for seats in the back row of the lecture hall.

It's this moment in which I realize I've done it again. I've managed to alienate myself from my peers immediately by way of being early, caring about the curriculum, speaking to the teacher, and the most egregious offense of all: sitting at the front. But that's okay. Because Reed finds me likable. And he's already agreed to speak to me on a regular basis so that sort of makes us friends... kind of. I hope.

More students come in, he greets them, this pattern repeating til the lecture hall has filled out and Mr. Reed closes its door.

"Right. Let's crack on, mm?" He claps his hands together loudly, several half-asleep heads snapping up from their syllibi at the sound. "What are we doing? Where do we come from? Why are we here? What happens to our souls when we die? I can answer these questions for you. I can give you a comfort no religion in the world could possibly give... but I'd like you to ask and answer yourselves, because at the end of the day, we are left in our own husks, pondering our own existence, caring fuck-all for anyone else's wellbeing." The room is silent and he continues: "Harsh, yes? Not very PC I'm afraid," a close-lipped smile as his bright eyes examine the faces of all present, resting on mine for a few seconds, "But true all the same. Over this course, you will investigate and interrogate theologies. Some you are already familar with, some you have only a vague understanding of at present. You'll break them down into their basic elements. You will then dissect those elements, and bring to me their beating hearts, their purpose. Why are Men at the helm of each of the 3 most practiced faiths in the world? Why are their needs placed first in the rhetoric? Is it because they needed an excuse to rationalize the subjugation of the women around them? Is it because of a historical, then implied biological, need on the part of Man to have control over someone they perceive as weaker than they are? Dark stuff. I want you to take it to such a level, though. I want each of your personal microanalyses of the 3 Abrahamic doctrines. This will take the form of a paper, let's say... 7 pages per religion, should be enough? I'll keep it easy for you. This will be due in 3 weeks, on the 23rd. In the interim, we will discuss less widely practised doctrines A.K.A the reason most of you joined this course to begin with. Now,"

I thought he was cool before, but as he fills the hours pacing the room on informational tangents, I come to realize two truths: he's completely in his element, and I happen to find the fluidity and fluency of his teaching style incredibly attractive. I find him incredibly attractive.

He emphasizes and gesticulates and monologues and it seems like no one else is as interested as I am in the material or the man teaching it.

Professor Reed is passionate and charismatic and by the end of his lecture, I'm left with 13 pages of notes on Bhuddism and a wildly unrealistic crush. He has to be at least 30 years my senior. He's my professor, for fuck sake. Could I be anymore cliché? Maybe it's just that he's the only cool, or even interesting professor I've had. Maybe it's that he's really nice. Or, maybe he's just... hot. Especially for a man his age, whatever age that is. Sixty? Fifty-five? Does it make it any better if he's slightly closer to my age? There's no way he would ever be into me, though, so there's nothing worth making a fuss over. I will not allow myself to be swooned by his effortless magnetism, the way he seems to glide rather than walk, the warmth of his smile, depth of his eyes- Oh. This is going to be an issue for me.

Especially because I've agreed to meet him before class. Weekly. Why did I do that? Shit. It's just once a week though. And there will be free food...

I'm jolted from my thoughts by the shuffle of bags zipping and desks scraping against the floor. I follow suit, tucking the notebook into my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

I'm nearly out the door when

"First in, last out, eh?" He's sat on the desk again, one leg crossed over the other.

"Uh, yeah, I kinda zoned out towards the end of class there, sorry."

"Don't be, you were engaged for the most part, I saw your pen move, all's well. But I would like to know your thoughts on the lecture, seeing as you may have been the only person paying any real attention."

I have a million thoughts on the lecture, a million more on him, and I nip at my lower lip, attempting to sort through it all. It was revelatory without being leading. It was genius but accessible enough to learn from. For the first time in ages, I don't feel like I'll have to go above and beyond to earn my grade because a professor is finally speaking my language. He teaches in my learning style. And he looks damn good doing it.

"Well?" His eyes search mine.

"I have uh, a lot of thoughts on the lecture. I'll have to sort them out and give you a full report before class next week."

"Fair enough," he smirks "Can I expect you'll be here around the same time?"

"Yes, sir." I smile.

The days between feel like watching paint dry, and by Thursday night he's all I can think about.

The way he spoke, his kindness, the way the entirety of his lecture felt like he was speaking directly to me. What if he was? He wasn't. What if he's thinking of me the same way I am of him? He isn't. It'd be completely inappropriate. He's probably married. Has to be, with a smile like that?

But if not... I let my imagination wander to places it shouldn't, places I'll never be able to access in reality. A rich dinner with him by candlelight, a lavish library where he reads to me and strokes my hair, a sun-soaked bedroom, his arms wrapped around my waist, lips on my neck, glasses on the nighstand, while- No.

I'm sat in my dorm with four completed assignments for my other courses, halfway through my paper for Reed's class, fantasizing about him and waxing poetic to myself about the ethical dilemma of a completely theoretical affair between us? This is so stupid. I save and close the document I'm typing in -it's not due for another couple weeks anyways and I could write it in my sleep- and open my email, refreshing for any reminders or campus event emails, anything to get my mind off of him and-

One new email.

a.reed@colorado.edu:

(y/n),

I am afraid I'll need your thoughts on the lecture as soon as humanly possible, for my own sanity if nothing else.

Furthermore, I have no idea what pastry to bring you. Do you enjoy a scone? Muffins? Are you a coffee or tea person? Allergies?

Please answer these questions at your earliest convenience.

-Reed

I re-read the email a few more times to make sure I'm not mistaken. He wants to know what I'd like for breakfast... because we've agreed to meet up for breakfast. But why does he care what I thought of the lecture? Is he looking for my approval? Maybe I was picking up on something. It's possible for him to have more than just an academic interest in me... I am a grown woman. I may not be completely delusional, and hit reply to begin tapping out a response.

Mr. Reed,

I thought the lecture was incredible. I left class excited and curious. Seems we'll have a lot to talk about tomorrow.

As for my café preferences: all pastry is good pastry, all tea is good tea, (Especially earl grey! with honey!! And a splash of cream!!) I'm not picky. No allergies.

Additionally:

Do you personally endorse any of Bhuddism's Four Noble Truths? They initially read as pessimism to me. Would love to hear your perspective.

Best,

(y/n l/n)

Sucking in a breath, I breifly skim through my reply to make sure it's completely clear of fawning, Freudian slips or obsessive questions. It is, amazingly, and before I can psych myself out, I hit Send.

He reached out to me... which implies that he might be thinking about me. And if he's thinking about me, I must have made a good first impression. But he might just be like this with all his students, and- I am way overthinking this.

After a shower and some cup noodles, I'm about half an hour into a video essay when a little (1) appears on the email tab I've left open.

a.reed@colorado.edu:

(y/n),

I believe in the Second and Third of the Noble Truths; suffering springs from attachment to fleeting things, and that suffering can end. But to live is not to suffer, in my opinion. We're capable of much more.

Café preferences noted. London Fog and a mystery treat.

Glad to have your feedback, looking forward to sating all curiosities in person.

-Reed

I find myself grinning at his response, mind racing. Surely not all curiosities, but I'll take what I can get. For now.

Sleep comes fast, Friday morning comes faster. I'm up before my alarm to freshen up, and decide that today, just for Reed, I'll actually try to look nice. A thin coat of lip gloss and a few swipes of mascara later, I pull on jeans, boots, a thin cashmere sweater and denim jacket, and I'm out the door.

5:08. It should take me about 15 minutes to get to the Two Hundred Building from my dorm, slightly less if I jog some of the way, and before long I'm bounding up the steps, legs aching. It is simply too early for excersise, and I'm nearly out of breath by the time I make it to the doorway of the lecture hall. Still locked. I beat him here.

But not by much. Keys jangle, I turn, he saunters down the hallway, chic in a pair of aviator sunglasses and a less vibrant variation on the outfit he wore last week. He carries a lidded paper cup and waxed paper bag in one hand, his keychain in the other.

"Hello. Even earlier than last time. Consider me impressed."

"Well, if you give a mouse a cookie..."

"And if I give her a large London Fog and a blueberry scone instead?"

"Even better. Thank you, professor."

I take the items from his hand, grinning to myself as he swaps his sunglasses for the regular ones in his pocket and opens up the lecture hall.

"And thank you again, (y/n), for managing to not stand me up on a Friday at five in the morning."

"What can I say? I'm a total sucker for classical conditioning."

"Aren't we all?" He winks.

Farther east, the sun has just begun to rise, and the hall, though hollow, feels like a more intimate space under morning's blue light.

I watch Professor Reed set his things down on the desk up front, and mirroring him across the room at my own, I hazard a sip of the tea he brought me. It's divine, almost floral. "Professor?"

"(y/n)? How is it?"

"Delicious, is there lavender in this?"

"There is, they use an infused honey. Thoughts, comments, concerns?"

"I think this tea is incredible and I'm concerned I'll never know where the café is." I joke.

"Oh its just down the way, little French spot, you've seriously not been? Le Petit something-something?"

It doesn't ring a bell and I shake my head

"No? Really? I'll take you sometime."

My face is hot and there's a beat of silence between us.

"I mean, we can meet there. For a study hour. If, y'know, you'd like to-"

"I, yes- I would love to, study there sometime, I mean, with you- to... research." I beam, praying a smile will somehow translate that atrocious word vomit for me.

"Great. I'll email you later on and we'll sort that out. But for now, (y/n), I'd like to bring up two topics." He holds up a finger.

"One. I would like a small delivery fee. The crispest corner of the scone pleeease." I pull it from its little waxed bag and for a scone, this thing is huge.

"How about half?"

"If you insist," he smirks. I break the scone, handing him half, which he brings back to his desk, a barely perceptible trail of crumbs following.

"And...the other topic?"

"Ah, yes," he perches his glasses atop his head, continuing "Your email got me thinking. I should explain my stance on the Noble Truths I do agree with."

"I'd hoped you might."

"Suffering springs from an attachment to fleeting concepts. But if life is finite, and all things are fleeting, we would all constantly be suffering all the time with no end in sight because to be human is to connect. If we live in fear of fleeting connections to others and the world around us, we inevitably attempt to shelter ourselves from the pain of loss. This, of course, is a loss in itself. The third noble truth, that suffering can end, I find to be an objective truth. But in the majority of scenarios, the subject of suffering must put its ending into motion."

"Well-said. But you don't believe the Eightfold Path is that solution."

"I don't believe any singular faith holds the solution to anyone's personal suffering. If it did- never mind. What I'm saying is, we are responsible for our own wellbeing and cannot live in fear of connection with others. It's inhuman. Your generation may disagree, being nearly antisocial, but we are social animals by nature. We need to know eachother."

"I do agree with you, actually. Problem solving is a valuable skill and so is the ability to at least try to socialize with a variety of people, generational instability be damned."

"See, I knew I liked you, (y/n). You've got a very good, very reasonable head on your shoulders. Makes me look forward to reading your paper later in the month. I don't generally like to assume, but you strike me as someone who writes well." He smirks.

"Oh, I don't know about that," my cheeks burn, I pray he doesn't notice, but what was once a smirk widens to a grin as he walks over to my desk, crouching before it to catch my downturned gaze.

"Well, I know about that. I know quite a lot about that, actually. Quiet people, their brillance." He speaks softly, as though a louder tone would break something in this moment, would break something in me, and he continues: "The deepest streams are silent."

[squeakadeeks]

Alliacea OCverse Lore

The short of it:

Alliacea is about a magic island resort margaritaville purgatory that over time infuses people with some part of the environment like flowers, birds, trees, etc. This mechanic is fueled by the person's mental and emotional state, worsening the less stable you are. Pacific is imbued with the tide as a result of being a shrinking violet, Bohai is associated with the open ocean due to his brash and loud personality, and Mansoa has been able to avoid the process all together by clinging to a superficial identity as "the outsider". Mansoa's identity clash causes the island to start coming apart at the seams and they have to figure out how to stop it.

Setting/overview:

Alliacea is about a magicly constructed resort island in an oceanic pocket realm inhabited by islanders that embody characteristic parts of the environment. The resort takes care of all of your physical needs, theres always fully stocked kitchens, bars, hotel rooms, etc that seem to spawn spontaneously and are upkept inexplicably. Both the island and the resort are infinitely sprawling and nonphysical in their layout.

The idea is the island looks after all your basic needs on a physical level, allowing you to move past basic struggles and wrestle with deeper psychological conflicts.

If you end up on Alliacea and you cant make peace with your deeper psychological struggles, the island finds a place for you by converting you into a part of it, such as morphing you slowly into a rock, fruit tree, flock of birds, etc, forcing you to find peace.

There are two iterations of Alliacea. Version A is intended as a PG story about learning to accept and embrace yourself and the world around you, Version B is more of a horror angle trying to critique the idea of perpetual happiness and stability even in spite of any and all dire circumstances.

In version A, almost all inhabitants are able to reach acceptance before the environmental assimilation process is completed. in version B, its nearly inevitable and happens to virtually everyone.

The main story mechanic in version A is actually trying to stop the island from sinking. the island begins to sink as a response to Mansoa's presence and the tension between what the magic wanted to do (help people) and what its actually doing (confusing them or forcing them into tight boxes).

Version B leans more into the actual implication of "im going to turn you into an object if you cant be happy" without pulling punches. In Ver B pacific mansoa and bohai are trying to find a way out of the resort as it begins to crumble and before the assimilation process is completed.

The main three characters worth knowing are Mansoa, Pacific and Bohai.

Mansoa, ends up on the island as an early teen. Now in her 20’s, she remains a regular human, unclaimed by any part of the island. Mansoa found a way to stay on the island by making her own role as the outsider. Her custom ecological niche as an odd man out worked for years, but over time it causes progressive problems. Namely as Mansoa shifts out of adolescence and into her full adulthood, she has to confront the long term sustainability of her sense of self being defined solely as “different”/"not like the others". You know those guys you sometimes come across that are like: "I'm cool and awesome because I'm an outsider. I'm totally not at all like you sheeple because I'm different." Yeah. Thats mansoa.

She has a carefree, hedonistic, individualistic personality (she behaves like a mash between Adora and early Korra).

Pacific has been on the island the longest (time doesn't flow linearly so that means like. decades and decades) and his element is the tide. Pacific struggled to fit in with the community and often preferred isolation. This was a behavior he adapted to manage his intense fear of other people. He had a number of very bad things happen to him that instills this strong phobia reaction. This is analogous to severe traumatic events but the specifics are never delved into. The main idea is he's had many situations where there was life threatening danger, he asked for help and was rejected, and had to defend himself against unreasonable threats. All of this caused him to develop intense avoidant and protective tendencies. This serves twofold to explain why he is afraid of people and why people have a hard time socializing with him as a result of his background.

Anything that happens that's slightly negative he uses as justification for his idea that world = bad. Pacific kept to himself in the shallow waters for decades making peace with the low thrumb of loneliness as the lesser of the two evils until Bohai and Mansoa came around. He has a meek, contemplative, avoidant personality.

Bohai represents the open oceans/seasonal storms. He's deeply dependent on being around other people and doesnt like being alone. On the outside he can seem calm, stable, and relaxed but internally he worries about everything 24/7. He likes being in a support and protector role.

Bohai and Mansoa are quite social and integrate often with the other inhabitants. However Bohai's natural personality can be loud and obnoxious, or otherwise off putting. He feels the need to corral his personality to seem more acceptable. Nothing "bad" happens to him nearly on the scale of what happened to Pacific, but years of social rejection and alienation has warped his sense of self into one that struggles with shame and accepting the parts of himself that arnt "palatable". This can manifest as compulsively seeking company 24/7, or the opposite of acting independent and stoic.

Bohai can be very insecure, he feels emotions to the fullest, and is constantly doing mental calculus trying to make everything better, leading to oscillating periods of burn out and obsessive focusing. (not that it matters but I creator-headcanon him with bipolar II). He and pacific have a very stable relationship that works well with Pacific's ingrained fears -> Bohai's desire to help, and Bohai's internal shame -> Pacific trusting and accepting him.

fun fact Pacific and mansoa actually have a pretty rocky relationship since mansoa cant wrap her head around why pacific is such a weenie, and pacific cant understand why shes so rash and caliver about her effects on others. Bohai has to be the peacemaker to keep their trio functional.

[balkanradfem]

Rating of Garden Critters!

Bee: 12/10, beloved, beautiful, miracle bug, would die for her, all flowers in my garden are for her

Ladybug: 10/10 I love her, she trusts me and walks on my hand, has little dots I can count and eats plant lice for breakfast lunch and dinner!

Ants: 2/10, they keep starting lice farms on my plants :/ go farm your lice elsewhere. Fun to watch though.

Spider: 10/10 charming, threatening, excellent vibes, does not respect my walkways, ultimately so useful for the garden I will never bring them down

Frog: 10/10 I don't know what she's up to but I love looking at her!

Mouse: 3/10 she gets 3 because she's so adorable but. She will dig out seeds and eat them. Go live in the fields please.

Snake: 10/10 absolutely love the long noodle, will resolve the mice issue, incredibly useful critter + points for powerful presence

Mushroom: 10/10 not a critter technically but she will make my soil healthy and I hope my plants can communicate underground too? If there's mushrooms?

Worm: 10/10 must have in the garden, please thrive in my soil, please live in my compost pile

Wasp: 6/10 threatening aura but I do believe she just wants to pollinate some plants and I respect her. There's place for her in my garden.

Bird: 8/10 I love her, I'm unsure whether she eats my worms but I hope she also eats bugs that eat my plants. Please don't eat my strawberries.

Plant lice: 0/10. No. Get off my swiss chard.

Butterfly: 4/10 Please stop laying eggs on my broccoli. You're so beautiful I love you and I want you to have as many babies as possible. But I am hungry. I am too weak to support your reproductive process.

Potato bugs: -2/10. No. Only bug I've enacted violence upon.

Any other bug that I do not recognize: 7/10, welcome to my compost pile! We have grass, we have peels, we have rotten fruit. Please eat it. Also if you're a cool neon color or really big I will follow you around for a while infinitely entertained by your existence.

Hedgehog: 10/10 I know she's just lost in there but please stay you're so adorable.

Slugs: -99999999/10. They know what they did.

[eri-pl]

Another ficlet. Finrod, Feanor, a natural history lesson in the Halls of Mandos. Not a part of the calendar, this ficlet just happened.

Warnings: nature-documentary-levels of violence (insects dying in awful ways, it may be triggering), discussion of animal reproduction, discussion of death and suffering. Not graphical, but still evocative. And idk how to phrase it, but: don't read if you have triggers around pregnancy. Seriously.

Also, fig trees are weird. Like, really weird. They are irl. If the idea of a cool, metaphorical tree from the Bible (or: a cool tree with fruit that you do eat) being somewhat eldritch triggers you, don't read (and don't google the detailed biology of anything form the genus Ficus)

“And you're showing me all this, because…?”

Finrod saw himself in Feanor's old studio, the host impatiently paced back and forth as he used to. The image was much more detailed than his own memories: the smell of wax and ink, the rustling of papers moved by the warm wind that entered through the window, even the slight aftertaste of coffee.

He missed being alive, more than ever. And yet��

“Lord Námo said it may be helpful,” he replied.

“Helpful for them, to convince me to forfeit my heart, which I don't even have anymore?” Feanor scoffed at him, and a wave of bitterness washed over Finrod. “Or helpful to you, to have someone congratulate you for all your dubious philosophical speculations? Or maybe for helping a Man steal what is not his?”

“This he did not say, but I came to you, uncle—”

“Half-uncle.”

It did not matter much and Finrod didn't hide this feeling. “—to help you lessen your pain, even if only by a little.”

“How graceful. Truely, a son of Arafinwë. Speaking of which, why didn't you crawl back to the Valar with him?” Even in a dream of the dead, Feanor's voice was full of melody and emotion. How was his memory and imagination so detailed?

“I'm not sure. I thought that I could change something, that I could — and have to — protect my father's people. And I was curious about Middle Earth. This too.”

“I see that you have grown up somewhat. Good. So, tell me, Findaráto, has your curiosity been satisfied?”

“Partially. Mostly— no, not mostly. But as much as it could be, I suppose.”

There was a long silence, broken only by the rustling of the leaves outside, and an occasional bird call. Feanor was shielded, almost unpresent, hiding behind the image. He didn't even bother to make the vision of him breathe.

Eventually, he returned and gestured at the alabaster vase, filled with fig branches, which hadn't been there before. “Tell me, do you know how those bear fruit?”

What did it have to do with anything? But Finrod knew better than to argue with his uncle.

“Half-uncle. And no: I don't care that you did not show me yourself saying this. As long as you keep it open, I consider it said. But back to my question.”

Just like Lord Námo, but quicker to get upset. Of course, from his uncle— half-uncle — Finrod could close part of his thoughts. But there had been enough distance between them already, and that would only increase it.

How did fig trees bear fruit? They grew hidden flowers, enclosed in growths that looked like smaller figs and matured into them. The Men believed that those plants, unlike all others, didn't produce flowers or need pollination, but this was of course false.

“And what does pollinate them?” Feanor spoke like a teacher, and Finrod realized that in the vision they shared he was now a child. Should he try to contest it? But he had come to his half-uncle to console him, not to argue. If Feanor would have him as a child, so be it.

He came closer to the branches. Some of them had mature fruit, some young, and some had the small figs that goats ate. “I don't know, I have never thought of that before. I suppose they pollinate themselves— but no, it would make no sense if they had no other tree to mate with. And they do need those small figs nearby… So I would assume those are sources of the pollen and some kind of small creature — an insect or arachnid — pollinates them.”

Feanor nodded and poked one of the maturing small figs with his finger. A group of tiny flies emerged from it — no, not flies, their bodies were built like very small wasps. Some had wings, some crawled on their bellies — and those were dying.

“Look at the females closely,” said Feanor, pulling Finrod’s attention to the winged wasps. Each of them had tiny specks of pollen on her body. They took flight, and landed on the immature figs — some on the small ones, and one on the big that looked like it could mature into an edible fruit.

“They will each crawl inside an enclosed flower — more like a garden actually. Inside each of those goat figs there are many flowers, now the male ones aren't mature yet, but the female ones will be pollinated by what the wasps brought. And in some of them the insect will lay her eggs, preventing growth of the fruit — the tiny actual fruit, not what the ignorants call a fruit — the others shall grow. And when the eggs mature, the new wasps will emerge into the inside of the fig, and mate, and take the pollen from the now-ready male flowers. Then the male wasps will dig a tunnel out and die. And the females will fly out, and enter more unripe figs, tearing off their antennae and wings in the agonizing process, pollinate, lay eggs and die soon after.”

Finrod looked up at his half-uncle's face. “And what do they do here, in Aman? I suppose—”

Feanor smiled and his eyes glistened with fire, but there was no mirth in it. “Where do you think I studied them?”

They stood in silence and pain. No death in the Undying Lands, except when there is. But for the Fruit-Giver the trees had always been more important than things that moved, weren't they?

Finrod shook it off — those weren't his thoughts — but didn't close himself out. He looked at the dying insects and at Feanor. “Once, I would try to comfort you by saying that the figs are beautiful, or that the new wasps are born and fly… But it hurts. Dying. It hurts so much. I'm sorry.”

“You have grown somewhat, indeed. Yes, the new wasps grow… but it's not even the whole of it. We haven't talked about the sweet figs yet.”

Finrod listened.

Feanor poked the ripe sweet fig, but no insect came out. “When a wasp enters the sweet fig,” he said slowly, “she has no place to lay her eggs. The flowers are shaped differently. She pollinates them, and dies — broken, useless, discarded — and the plant digests her until there's nothing left. Just the sweet fruit, for the joy of the Eldar and more glory of the Valar. Tell me, my little philosopher, what do you think: do figs pity wasps? Do they even think about them?”

Finrod forced himself to stay open despite the pain and anger pouring onto him. “They don't know the pain of death, so how could they pity it?”

“Yet, how could they not? How can they expect— and not even care —” Feanor's voice shook, the wasps quivered in agony, the room trembled. Words and feelings roared around like a storm. Slowly, it calmed down and Feanor resumed: “And yet, they do expect. They gave nothing to me, and yet I'm supposed to give everything, and why? Because only I can do that? Because I'm the biggest wasp that they have in their cage? Nobody else is asked for something like this.

“I'm supposed to tear out my heart, and get nothing out of it, and everyone else shall be happy, and I shall be — gone, not even a trace left, digested into the sweetness of a fig. Yes, I know this would be noble of me. I do not care. I do not want to be noble, I've tried being noble already and it didn't work. I want, for a change, to be happy. And I won't take anything less than that.”

The vision blurred, they were in the room, and they were the wasps crawling into a fig, and they were dead bodies lying under the brilliant light that they had helped recover… Finrod took control, dreaming then into his studio, back in Nargothrond. The figs were still there, but now in a simpler, Man-made vase.

“What's this?” Feanor pointed to an empty, unimagined place where a door should be.

Oh. This. Finrod would rather not delve into the whole Celegorm and Curufin situation. “Not very relevant. Two of your sons learned that I was planning to help Beren and, well, we had a disagreement. They took control of the city for some time, but we did not fight. Just argued.”

“What else would you expect them to do?” Feanor stood behind Finrod’s desk in his regal robes, hands behind back, scanning the studio. It was a messy room, compared to his.

“What else would you expect me to do?”

“Not— Oh, I see. You could have mentioned more clearly that you have also been bound by an oath. At least now you understand.” It should have been a question, but wasn't.

“I didn't kill anyone for it.”

“Not with your own hands, no. I appreciate you not murdering my sons for protecting our property. It was more than I would expect with your Telerin heritage.”

Finrod looked him in the eye — now as they were in his imagination, he wasn't a child anymore. “Why are you trying to provoke me? What is this really about? Do you want me to say that we shouldn't have the Trees back if the cost is so high? That we shouldn't have figs or happiness or whatever the metaphor is— I don't know! I trust in the Valar knowing what they're doing, even if they cannot understand how much it takes, but that's just it: trust. And I cannot understand it fully either. Even now. Nobody can, because we aren't you! What do you expect me to say?”

Feanor shrugged lightly. “Honestly? I expected you to say something sanctimonious, a multitude of pretty words about the greater good, sacrifice, and how the wasp dies happy and cheerful, because she knows that it will give joy to everyone else.”

Had Finrod really been like this? Simplistic, blunt, and certain about the things he had no experience with? Maybe. Probably.

“Definitely,” said Feanor, surprised. “You didn't know. How ironic.”

“I apologize. I— I don't think anyone has the right to expect from others something he had not gone through himself. And even now…” The shadows deepened around them, and the air smelled of wolves. Not too much, not out of control anymore, but it was noticeable. “I do not know how I managed to. I'm not who I had thought myself to be; I was terrified, and weak, and lost, and yet… it was enough, somehow. Just enough to do what I had to do. Not to tell anyone else what he should do. To know, yes. But not to claim any authority. Not to try to push you… I'm not making much sense, am I?”

Feanor stepped closer to him, emanating warmth, and the shadows moved back from the light of the fire that was his spirit. The vision was now equally imagined by both of them: a shadowed room blending various memories, unripe figs on the table blazing with light. Pieces of broken marble. Tapestries on the walls. Noticeable lack of blood on the floor. Smell of the sea, or maybe of tears.

“You are both the wasp and the fruit,” Finrod said warmly, looking at the gobelins. They were beautiful.

“I never asked to be a fig! I never—.”

“I know. Nobody asks for it, I suppose. I'm certain Beren didn't either. And yet, if I were to make that choice again, I'd make it all the same.”

Feanor traced the pattern of the tapestry with his finger. “You had a choice.”

“That is true. But does it change much?”

“I don't know.” He started to fade, and with him the tapestry and parts of the room.

“Wait.”

Feanor's presence returned. “There's nothing more to say. You can't convince me—”

“I don't intend to.” Finrod smiled. “Nor do I have anything wise to say to you. But we can simply be here. I miss you.”

“Soon you will go, I can feel life calling to you, your mind longing for its senses. As does mine. The only difference is that you are free to follow. But if you want to dream with me for a while more, I won't forbid you.”

“Thank you, uncle.”

Feanor didn't reply and they sat together, the wasps buzzing around them— or maybe they were moths? Something winged and surprisingly fragile, of that Finrod was certain.