#if you can't say something nice don't say anything at all

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Neighbour - Noncon

With your electricity out and your devices dead, you have no choice but to turn to your neighbour for help. He's more than willing to welcome you into his home. Really, you're lucky he's such a nice guy.

Tags: male yandere x gender neutral reader, noncon, somno, just the tip anal, daddy kink but only if you squint, 3.3k words

Living in the middle of nowhere had its perks. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

But after the third day with no electricity, those perks were starting to look pretty damn weak. Your fridge was sitting in an ever expanding puddle. Almost all your devices were dead. And if you had to take one more cold shower you were going to cry.

It was when you were digging through your drawer looking for desperately needed batteries that you found your neighbour's number. He'd offered it to you a little while after you moved in, and while you two were on friendly terms, you'd never actually spoken for longer than a few minutes. You sighed, looked at the 10% left on your phone and decided that desperate times called for desperate measures.

You: hey, it's me. I still haven't got any power. Do you mind if I come over to charge some stuff?

He replied almost instantly.

Unknown: aww that sucks

Unknown: come on over. I've got hot stew and a generator

Unknown: and you can take a hot shower too if you want

Score. And to think you found him intimidating at first. Just goes to show that you can't judge on appearances. You packed a change of clothes, your devices and the last tub of ice cream that wasn't totally melted. You'd find some way to properly pay him back but a tub of chocolate fudge double cream wasn't a bad way to start.

He was waiting on his porch when you pulled up. A bear of a man in a flannel and blue jeans, a five o' clock shadow darkening his jaw.

"Howdy neighbour," he drawled, opening your door for you while you grabbed your stuff. "Regretting leaving the city yet?"

You huffed a laugh. "You do NOT want to know the answer to that."

His cabin was much larger than yours, a two storey behemoth with wide windows and exposed beams. It had a rustic charm - like some natural park Air BnB where they charged a weeks pay for just one night. A little too big for just one man. Didn't he get lonely?

"I brought some ice cream and chocolate to say thank you. And also because it miiight have been melting."

He opened the door for you and ushered you through with a hand on your lower back.

"Hell, I'll never say no to something sweet."

There was a fire burning in the fireplace and a stack of logs in a crate next to it. He was so much better suited to this life than you were. He locked the door behind you and slipped the keys into his pocket.

"Old habit," he explained with an easy grin.

"Why don't you get settled? I'll plug your stuff in."

You handed over your tech with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you. Really. I'm so behind on work already and I haven't heard anything back from the power company."

"I wouldn't hold my breath," he said. "Once ended up going a week straight with not even a light bulb flickering."

You winced. "It gets that bad?"

"Yep. Especially in winter. Gets dangerous then too."

He tilted his head at you, concerned. "You need to get yourself better sorted before it starts snowing. I hate to think of you stuck out there when the blizzards start rolling in."

God, could you be any more of a city slicker? You rubbed your neck, embarrassed.

"Thanks. I've been here a few months now and I guess I just didn't realise how serious things can get."

"It's all good. But if I'm honest, I get worried thinking about you out there all alone. Plenty of drifters end up passing through. Not a good place to be alone, not for a little thing like yourself."

Little? You wanted to feel indignant, but looking at his bulk, you reckoned that most folk probably seemed little to him.

He lead you to the fireplace and poured you a mug of coffee from the pot that was waiting for you. He jerked his head at the hunting rifle on display above the mantle.

"I can teach you to shoot, if you've got some free time."

You took a sip of the coffee, internally debating with yourself. You could see the sense in your offer but you weren't a big fan of guns. Hell, just being around them was nerve wrecking enough. Maybe -

You looked down at your mug in surprise.

"This is some really good stuff."

The coffee was strong, bitter in the best sort of way. You could catch a hint of chocolate in it too. Just sweet enough to make your toes curl.

" 'Course. Only the best for my guest. Help yourself to another cup. I'll just put your stuff on charge and be right back."

You finished your drink in a few sips and happily poured a second serving. Hot coffee... man, you didn't think three days without it would be so tough. Usually, you were pretty sensitive to caffeine. But by the time your neighbour came back, your head was tilted back and you were half asleep.

You tried to shake yourself out of it but he just laughed and pushed you back down.

"You probably haven't had a good sleep since the power went out. Just rest. We can talk once you wake up."

"I'm sorry..."

"It's fine." His hand was still on your shoulder, thumb rubbing small circles into your neck. "It's just fine with me."

You drifted off after that. Into a deep sleep without any dreams. Waking up was like slogging through molasses.

"Finally up sleepy head?"

It was dark outside and your neighbour was on one knee in front of the fire place, coaxing fresh wood to catch.

You sat up slowly. Your muscles ached and there was a strange, salty taste on your tongue.

"My heads killing me..."

He stood, poker still in his hand. "You must be starving then. I've already got some food on the stove. You'll feel better after you eat."

You didn't feel hungry at all. If anything, you felt almost hangover.

"Thanks," you managed. "I'm sorry to be such a bother."

He waved you away. "I don't mind a bit."

He came back with a bowl of steaming hot chow and stood with his arms crossed on the back of your couch while you ate.

"It's real late. I reckon you should stay over. I don't want you driving on dirt when it's so dark."

"Oh, it's fine. I've already put you out so much."

"Don't be silly. I insist."

You shivered without meaning to. That almost growl, low and bordering on menacing. It was so familiar, so...

"Just like that. Look at you, half asleep and still desperate for my cock."

"You like the taste? Yeah, I bet you fucking do."

"Ain't just gonna use your mouth next time."

You squeezed your eyes shut. Where the hell was this coming from? Were you remembering some sick dream from this afternoon?

"You okay there neighbour?"

You nodded. "Just my head."

Maybe he was right. Driving when you were so disorientated was just asking for trouble.

"If you really don't mind... I'll be happy to sleep over."

He laughed, a deep, rumbling thing. "I'll make the guest room up special, just for you."

"Could I use your shower too?"

"I offered didn't I? Come on, I'll show you where it is."

He took you to the master bedroom and jerked his thumb at the en-suite.

"Hot water is the most reliable in there. Door doesn't close that well though, so don't mind it. I'll be downstairs when you're done."

You brushed your teeth carefully. You lips felt sore, bruised in a way you couldn't explain.

You waited until you heard his footsteps going down the stairs before you stripped off your clothes. You stood under the hot water for a good few minutes, luxuriating in the feeling. The bathroom was thick with steam when you finally got to scrubbing yourself. The door was open just a crack and the bedroom beyond was dark. You forgot all about it until you heard the creak of the hinges.

You whirled to face the door, your hands coming up to cover yourself. The steam was too thick to see through. You called his name.

Nothing.

You stepped out with suds still on your thighs and pushed the door open. The room beyond was empty.

You sighed. God, you were being paranoid. Your neighbour was a great guy. It was unfair of you to treat him like a peeping tom when he'd gone out of his way to make you comfortable. It must have been just an errant draught.

You stepped back into the shower and rinsed yourself off. But no matter what you told yourself, you still kept an eye on the door.

When you went to change into your fresh clothes, you spent at least five minutes hunting for your underwear. Did you drop it somewhere? Oh, please say your undies weren't just sitting in the middle of his hallway. That would be beyond embarrassing.

Eventually you gave up and just decided to go without them. Not comfortable at all but still better than walking around in a towel to look for them. And much better than calling your neighbour in to help. Wouldn't that be fun? 'Hey neighbour that I don't know that well, you haven't seen my intimates lying around, have you?' Yeah, you'd never again get invited over after something like that.

When you were dressed, you found him already on his way up the hall. He was carrying a glass of water and some pills.

"Thought you might still have a headache, so I brought you some painkillers."

You paused, nervous but not sure why.

"Thanks." His hands dwarfed yours when he handed them over. You didn't recognise the name of on the pills, but they looked harmless. You tossed them back and gagged at the bitter aftertaste.

"They pack a punch, so tell me when you start to get drowsy."

"Aye aye captain."

You followed him to the guest room. It was at the very back on the second story, quieter than the rest of the house. A huge glass wall gave you a view of the forest disappearing into the darkness. You could see the ghost of your reflection in the glass, your neighbour a hulking, shapeless mass at your shoulder.

He took a seat in an armchair across form the bed and stretched out his legs. You perched on the edge of the mattress, still feeling a bit like an intruder.

"How long have you been staying out here?” you asked.

He smiled at you, teeth glinting almost wolf-like. "Got you curious?"

"A little. Folk in town say they hardly see you. I don't know... I'm just wondering if you ever get lonely."

He was quiet and you cursed yourself for being so nosy. You hurried to fill the silence.

"It's just that I get a bit lonely out here too. 'Specially when it's so quiet. And I guess I was wondering if it's the same for you."

He smiled at you, rueful. "At times. Used to be worse, but I've got a new interest to keep me occupied nowadays."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"Bird watching."

"Really? What do you look for?"

The way the room was lit up, you couldn't see his eyes. They fell into shadow and you only had his lips to read his emotions by. He smirked, slow and almost mocking.

"Just one bird I look out for. Flighty little thing. Tends to get caught by predators a lot. You’d probably recognise it."

The polite thing to do would be to ask what it was called. You didn't. Some part of whispered that you wouldn't like the answer.

You must have been quiet a little too long because he took it as his cue to leave. He stood, a mountain of muscle, his eyes not quite as nice as they seemed that afternoon. A trick of the light, surely. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

"You rest up. Got a busy day tomorrow."

"G'night."

He was gone before you thought to ask what he meant. And you were passed out on your pillows before you realised it. He was right. The pills sure did pack one hell of a punch.

You were aware of a shadow at the end of your bed. You weren't fully awake, and your limbs were slow and heavy with more than just sleep.

"Who..."

The shadow reached down and one warm paw circled your ankle.

"Just me little bird."

You knew that voice. It was the voice that brought you warm food and invited you in from the cold. You could trust it. Could go back to sleep and not worry about anything.

'No,' some part of you hissed, 'He's not as safe as you think.'

"Cold..."

The shadow laughed and it was the laugh of the fox finding the rabbit's den. Nasty. Hungry.

"Cold huh? Don't worry baby. I'll warm you right up."

He yanked your ankle towards him and your whole body slid down the bed. You were too drowsy to stop it.

"Knew you were gonna be mine the second I saw you," he cooed, hands running up your thighs.

His fingers slipped under your waistband, nails scraping your hip bones.

"Dumb little thing from the city. Doesn't even realise I've tripped all their breakers. That's why you don't have power baby. It's all me."

His fingers were as big as the rest of him. Thick, meaty. Skin rough from working outdoors. You whined when his fingertips scraped the edges of your hole.

"No underwear. You needy slut. That's practically a written and signed invitation to fuck you."

He pulled your pants down to your ankles and pushed your knees up to your stomach. And you were too out of it to stop him. Limp and pliable as a fuck doll.

Your tight ass was exposed to the cold air, entirely at the mercy of whatever he wanted to do.

"Cute." He circled his thumb around the rim, almost pushing in but not quite. "Wanted to be in this ass since you first showed up at my door all those months ago. Lookin' up at me all sweet. Fuck, it's enough to drive a man to desperation."

He lowered his head and you could feel his warm breath washing over your thighs.

He dragged his tongue across your hole. Some part of you must have been more awake than the rest, because your whole body jerked away from him.

"None of that," he cooed, hands digging into your thighs and dragging you back. "I haven't even gotten started yet."

He licked you again, deeper this time. The flexed tip of his tongue pushing at your entrance, and to your dull horror, actually slipping in. He moaned and you could feel the vibrations all through your crotch.

He pulled out and spat, rubbed it in with his fingers. One of them pushed in until the second joint, curling into your walls so rough that you gasped.

"Please..."

"Please what?" he mocked. "Please fuck my tight little ass? Please cum inside me? Use your words little bird."

"Please...stop..."

That made him laugh again, made him shove his finger in all the way to the knuckle. Twisting so cruelly as he pulled out and jerked back in.

"Stop? Stop? After all the work it took to get you here? No way baby. I'm not slowing down and I'm sure as fuck not stopping."

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, followed by a sharp intake of breath when he nudged his leaking head against your hole.

"You’re not going to remember this. And I'm not going to leave any evidence."

He pushed your legs tighter against your chest.

"So as much as I want to fuck you rotten, you're gonna have to be happy with just the tip."

He'd done a good job loosening and lubing you, but it still burned like a hot poker when he forced his way in. He groaned, almost in pain.

"You're fucking choking me. God, do you want my cum so bad?"

You could feel when the tip was in. That tiny difference in thickness between his head and shaft was oh so noticeable when your ass was clenching and fluttering around it. It was the smallest mercy, but mercy nonetheless.

He was panting from the effort of getting it in, the effort of holding back. The size difference between you almost perverse. Like a draft stallion trying to mount a pony. In every way, he was just too fucking big.

He spat in his hand and brought it to his cock, ran his palm up and down his shaft with sickly wet strokes. The combination of his palm and your squeezing ass was fucking delicious.

He had great stamina but fuck if it didn't feel like you were milking him.

He let go long enough to smack your ass. It almost finished him. You clenched around him so hard it felt like his tip was getting fucking crushed.

"Shiiiit, you're the best hole I've ever had. Can't wait 'til I can go all the way."

You whined, pitiful as snared prey. There were words there, though they were too slurred to make out. Something about Daddy and please and stop. He ignored you.

He pushed in a little deeper and watched your face scrunching up. So helpless, so fucking caught. That was what did it. The knowledge that he could do this to you at any point and you'd be helpless to stop it.

He came inside you, snarling through clenched teeth, his fingers digging into your thigh hard enough to bruise. You'd notice the marks in the morning and chalk it up to just being clumsy. But he'd know. He'd see the bruises peeking out from the hem of your shorts and his cock would twitch just a little at the memory of leaving them.

His cock pulsed. Shot strings of spunk deep inside you. You could feel it. Hot, too hot. Gross. Make it stop. Get it out.

He pulled out with a wet pop. His cum drooled down and he took a minute to work it back into you with his finger. Your hole was gaping just a little and it made his balls pulse. If he had the time...

"A real fucking mess. And on my good sheets too. You're a terrible guest."

He mopped up whatever cum remained with a balled up piece of martial that he pulled from his pocket. Even in you stupor, you recognised it as your missing underwear.

"Terrible guest, but the perks of having you around are pretty fucking sweet."

He dropped your knees back to the mattress, pulled your pants back into place and roughly yanked the duvet over you. He grabbed your jaw and smiled at the lost, drowsy look in your half open eyes.

"Got a big day tomorrow. Gonna wake up and find your whole house was flooded. Ruined. Gonna have nowhere to stay but with me."

He sounded smug. It made your guts twist.

Outside, the night grew quiet. A predator was hunting and most prey knew better than to catch its attention.

"I made sure of it. All your family and friends in the city are away from home. There's no one around to help you out..."

He tightened his grip just enough to watch the fear start dancing in your eyes.

"No one...except me."

He let you go and smiled that same warm, comforting smile from that afternoon.

"Dumb little thing. Got no clue how your water mains work, do you? Got no idea how easy they are to sabotage."

He tutted. "Got me so damn busy. I'm gonna have to run to your place, fuck shit up and be back here before you wake up for real."

He traced his index finger over your lips and left behind a sticky coating of spunk. You'd wake up tasting salt again, with no memory of why.

"But it's fine. I forgive you. After today we'll have plenty of time together. Rest of our lives in fact. So just sleep tight and forget what you think you've dreamed."

There are perks to living in the middle nowhere. Privacy. Untouched nature. Peace and quiet.

There are perks, but unfortunately for you, your neighbour isn't one of them.

[lymtw]

Movie Night

(Toji and His Shy Girl)

Friday night is unofficially movie night for you and Toji. You always go back and forth on what you should do and options are tossed out, like a nice dinner or trying food from someplace new or going to a view and sitting in the trunk of his car with blankets and some snacks. Most of the time, all of those options are thrown out the window and you just end up sitting in your bed or his bed and watching movies together. It doesn't matter what you do, it's always good, and the sleep overs make it even better.

A knock on your door signals Toji's arrival. Though you haven't had any caffeine since the coffee you treated yourself to earlier in the afternoon, you feel jittery. You grab the surprise you have for him and walk over to answer the door. As soon as you pull the door open, there he is, looking handsome as always, even when he's donning a simple t-shirt and some sweatpants. He gives you that smirk of his—the one that makes your chest feel all warm and fuzzy, and wakes up the butterflies in your stomach. He has a bag in his hand, filled with the snacks he promised to bring.

"Aren't you gonna say hi? Did you even miss me?" He teases, loving the way you gently nod as he speaks, like you're ready to prove that you did in fact miss him.

"Hi, Toji," you say, a smile spreading on your lips when you become overly aware of his focus on you. "I missed you. Come in." You move aside and let him into your cozy home, a place he's all too familiar with. He steps out of his slides and leaves them behind next to a pair of your shoes, his gaze never leaving you as he waits for you to lock the door after you shut it.

"What's that, doll?" Toji asks, when you approach him with full hands. There's a soft smile on your lips and your eyes shine like the stars that speckle the sky, as you extend the neatly folded pair of pajamas towards him. You have the most precious look on your face, as if you're showing him one of your most prized possessions—something you're proud of.

"You don't have to wear them if you don't want to. I still have the receipt. I just thought it would be nice to wear matching pj's."

You're not asking for much. Toji knows this. This is nothing���you're not asking him for anything. All he can think as he takes in the adorable look on your face, is that it would be an absolutely disgusting, heinous crime, to deny you of something so simple, something that would make you so damn happy. He can't bring himself to destroy you like that. In doing that, he would be chipping his own heart.

"What are you talking about? Let me see them," he says, laying his hands out for you to place the clothes on. You carefully place them in his hands and watch as he unfolds the articles. You don't know what he's thinking as he inspects the shirt, but the hum he lets out is nerve wracking. The shirt's design is minimalistic. It's a black t-shirt with three little stars on the left side of the chest and a small crescent moon on the back, a few inches beneath the collar, and then the bottoms are in the same plaid style as yours, just dark green instead of red.

"Is this why you asked for my clothing sizes a couple days ago?" He asks, pulling down his pants out of nowhere. You can't even try to hold back your laugh as you look away after getting a glimpse of his boxers, the sound just slips out. "What are you laughing at? Nothing you haven't seen before," he says, grinning amusedly at your giggles.

He unfolds the comfy pair of pants and slides them on. Immediately after, his shirt comes off, and it's as if he wants you to notice—to ogle him—because he takes his sweet time getting the new shirt on. He catches your eyes trailing down his torso, and then, he hears it, the flustered giggle that tumbles off your lips, the sweet sound he was waiting on. He smirks as he puts the new shirt on, and once again waits for your reaction. The shirt is a thicker material and fits perfectly, so do the pants. You're now matching, just like you wanted.

"How do I look?" Toji asks, doing a simple hands in his pockets pose.

"Handsome and comfy," you respond, warmth reaching your face as you take in the sight.

"Yeah? You think so?" He asks as he picks up his previous outfit and drops it on the arm of your couch. He hears your affirmative hum and catches your little nod as he steps towards you.

"Hey, where's my kiss?" He asks, a sly little smirk curling his lips. His hands rest on your lower back, gently pulling you closer. "I've been waiting hours and hours," he murmurs, green eyes absorbing the pretty smile that begins to form on your lips. "I want my reward."

You know that it won't be just a quick kiss with Toji, but still, you stand on your tippy toes and tilt your head upwards, waiting for Toji to meet you. He leans down, holding eye contact with you, as his lips come closer and closer. Once his nose is right next to yours and you feel his lips ghosting yours, he stops. He just loves the way you can't hide your fluster and how whenever you can't take it anymore, you resort to something you should have some sort of award for, by now—giggling.

"You're precious, ma," he says, his voice low. Dark eyes scan and re-memorize, for the nth time, every inch of your joyful expression, before finally he leans in the rest of the way, closing the distance between you and him.

His hands grip the back of your shirt as he feeds off your soft lips. Kiss after kiss, each one gentle and patient, demonstrating how much he truly longed for you. You feel butterflies in your stomach when you focus on the warmth of his body pressed against you and the way his lips chase yours for another kiss when you think he's finally going to pull away. His hands dip beneath your shirt to feel the bare, soft, and warm skin of your back. The simple touch is enough to spread goosebumps all over you.

The final kiss is long. Your lips lock, but Toji stops there, not going with the usual synchronized flow of the previous kisses, and when you don't expect it, he lets out deep hum and releases your lips with a more audible smack. He gives you a dumb grin in response to the stars that returned to your eyes.

"Do the thing, baby," he says, rubbing your back while he waits for you to snap out of your minor daze. He stays in the same slightly leaned position and waits for the softness of your lips to meet his skin. You press a kiss onto the smooth scar on the corner of his lips for an equal amount of time as the long kiss you shared before and smile softly when you pull away, your feet flat on the ground, again.

His hands come out of your shirt and he grins at how bashful you've become, despite the amount of times you've done this. You wouldn't immediately know what "do the thing" means, if you weren't so accustomed to doing it.

"Got your favorites," he says, nodding towards the bag he set down on your couch. "Did you keep up with your end of the deal?" He jokes, expecting a proud nod from you, because you've never let him down.

"Lemon-lime or Cool Blue Gatorade, right?" You ask, walking towards the kitchen.

"That's right, doll," he confirms, following behind you.

After the wine incident, he chooses to stay sober with you. It's not that he doesn't want to experience drinking with you and see you be more laid back and playful, it's the fact that he knows that that version of you is altered by alcohol. Sober you isn't that way, and while he loves every version of you, your natural way of being is his favorite.

He could spend hours flustering and teasing you, watching the way you coil in on yourself when he stares at you for too long. Feeling the way your body melts against his when he holds you is one of his favorite things. He likes being able to coax you into voicing your thoughts, wants, and needs. Maybe you're a little more honest about deeper matters when you're inebriated, but Toji is smart enough to know that it's practically involuntary. It's like your secrets are being spilled without your permission and while he's glad to know these things in the moment, he would rather hear them from you when you aren't drunk.

"I got you both. I didn't know which you liked more, so I just got both of them," you say, grabbing them off one of the shelves in your fridge. You turn and hand the cold drinks to Toji before going back to grab the one you got for yourself. You step back and shut the fridge door, smiling at him when he just stares at you.

"What?" You question.

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds. Just silently observes you standing in your small kitchen, in comfy, baggy pajamas that match his own. You're shifting on your feet, under his gaze, waiting for a response, but the response that he has in mind is a little too much for the lightness of the night. Something about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you, something about coming home to you every day, something about putting a shiny rock on your finger. Something big, because his feelings for you are big.

"Nothing, ma," he says, tucking both juice bottles between his forearm and his side, so that he can rest his hand on the back of your neck as you walk back out to the living room. You grab the bag of snacks off the couch and head to your bedroom together.

You set the bag of snacks on the bed and sit down on your side. Toji has a designated side on your bed, which is, of course, the other side.

"Light on or off?" Toji asks, shutting the door.

"Off?" You say, with a questioning tone, leaving room for him to object. Shortly after, the room goes dark. Only your TV, which sits idly on its home screen, creates light that illuminates the walls. Toji walks around your bed and settles into his side.

"What are we watching, this time?" He asks, reaching for the pack of sour gummy bears.

"It's your turn to choose," you say, offering the remote to him. "Last time we watched a bunch of Disney movies. I don't know if you wanna do that again," you say, smiling sheepishly.

"You doubt your taste in things too much, ma. Those Toy Story movies were pretty good. Show me another one of your favorites."

"Alright," you say, in compliance. You go to the Disney+ application and search for another favorite. Nothing too sing song-y, because you feel like you're on thin ice already in playing these animated movies for him. You got away with Jessie singing "When She Loved Me" in Toy Story 2, because even he thought the poor cowgirl got a rough deal when she was abandoned.

"Ratatouille?" He reads. "What's that about?"

"We're about to watch it," you say, briefly turning over and smiling.

He hums as he looks over the caption beneath the title that explains the synopsis of the movie.

"The rat's gonna cook? This should be interesting."

Lo and behold, he's hooked. Neither of you has made a peep and you're both mindlessly snacking on candy and chips, sipping on Gatorade, while watching the crazy things in this rat's life unfold. Him and his brother survived being struck by lightning and being shot at by an old lady with a shotgun. That part seemed to amuse Toji plenty.

Towards the end of the movie, Toji turns to you with sour sugar unknowingly speckled on his lips from the candy he's been feasting on, and leans in to press kisses to your temple and cheek.

"Watch," you say, smiling at the softness that meets your skin.

"I'm watching," he murmurs, continuing on with his sticky kisses.

"Look, they're stealing food from the kitchen," you explain, shocked despite already knowing what's going to happen.

"Mm," Toji hums, seemingly interested, but continuing on with his affectionate, sugary pecks.

"Look, you're gonna miss it," you say, giggling as you gently push his face away. It completely backfires on you, because he just grabs your wrist, and pulls your hand down to continue on with his kisses.

"Come here," he says, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you so that you're sitting right beside him, your thigh touching his and your shoulder pressed into his side. With a few more pecks to your cheek and a couple to the top of your head, he faces forward and continues watching the movie.

"Damn, they got shut down?" He says, in disbelief.

"Mhm," you hum in response, unable to answer verbally due to the chips in your mouth.

"Oh shit, they're back," Toji says, taking in the remainder of the movie. "And Remy cooks without controlling Spaghetti?"

"Linguini," you correct, with a laugh. "But yeah. Linguini's a waiter, now, and Remy's a chef."

The artistic end credits begin to appear and you turn to look at Toji.

"So... what did you think?" You ask.

"That had more action than The Terminator," he jokes. "The old lady with the shotgun was trying take out Remy and his brother and then she tried to hit the entire colony of rats with gas."

You giggle as he goes in depth of what he remembers, as if to prove to you that he was watching.

"I liked that one too," he says, with a smirk. "Would definitely watch it, again."

"Good," you chirp, internally proud that you were able to show him something good. "Your turn," you say, offering him the remote.

"You go again," he says, grabbing another sour gummy to dodge the remote.

"Toji," you mumble. "You should choose something you like. I wouldn't mind watching something new, too."

In truth, Toji doesn't want to watch explosive, gore infested, action movies when he's with you. It's the only genre he's thoroughly explored apart from some comedy, so he leaves you to do the choosing of the movies and shows you watch together. It's a great way for him to give new things a chance, because even though it seems like he's always the one showing you how and loosening the tight grip you have on the shell that obscures you, he's constantly learning from you, as well.

"How 'bout this, baby... If you choose the next one, i'll choose the next three," he offers, squeezing the plush of your thigh.

"You promise?" You say, eyes darting from where his enormous hand rests on your leg, to his face.

"'Course. I don't lie to you," he says.

"Okay, then," you say, moving onto a different platform to find another movie.

"While I wait..." he mumbles, a soft smile curling on his lips. His hand moves from your thigh to your waist as he wraps his arm around you. He goes back to kissing the side of your face, soft, wet little smooches planted along your cheek and your jaw.

"Gorgeous girl," he hums, his voice a soft breath against your skin. "I'm dying to kiss those pretty lips."

Your lips curl as you continue skimming through the section of recommended movies. You can feel his eyes on you, tracing over the features of your face.

"Just a quick one and then i'll stop bugging you," he requests. "Please? You're teasing me without even trying."

"But I'm not even doing anything," you argue, with a small laugh.

"That's what i'm saying," he says, in agreement. "You're not even trying. You're just pretty like that. Makes me wanna kiss you 'til you can't breathe."

"What? You said a quick one, just a few seconds ago," you remind, your smile widening at the way he changed his mind about wanting the minimum of your affection.

"Yeah, but you know how greedy I am about you, mama. I want more and more of you, all the time." His gaze flits between your coy smile and the softness that lingers in your eyes. You haven't paused your skimming of the movies, but he knows you're staring at the screen, mindlessly, feeling his attention. "You want me to beg?"

"No," you instantly respond. It's the one thing you never allow him to do. He's too good to you, for you to make him beg. "You don't have to do that."

"So, kiss me, sweetheart," he says, shifting positions so that he's lying down on his side. He pats the pillow that cushions your lower back, signaling for you to lie down. Like the obedient thing you are for him, you click play on the random movie you landed on and set the remote aside, before lying down on your side, facing Toji.

"What movie did you decide on?" He asks, dragging his knuckles tenderly over your cheek.

"I didn't look at the name," you answer, softly.

"We can skip the intro, right?" He murmurs, smirking when he feels the warmth that reaches your face beneath his palm. His thumb strokes the skin of your cheek, back and forth as he keeps up with your gaze, even when it derails from his due to the tension in the moment.

"Mhm," you hum.

"Come here," he instructs, his voice low, almost a whisper. His leg goes between your legs, just sitting there to achieve more physical contact with you. It doesn't go further than the desire to be innocently caught up in you and feel you pressed against him.

The first kisses—if they can even be called that—are tentative and teasing. Lips merely ghosting each other, barely grasping contact. It's enough to have your heart thudding rapidly in your chest. You hear a warm, rumbled chuckle coming from Toji.

"Closer," Toji hums, his hand splaying on your back and pushing you forward into him.

Finally, your lips connect. The feeling is warm, like you're being held, securely, without any intention of being released. The sound of the movie in the background is a mere whir, unheard through the imaginary force field created around you and Toji. It's just you and him, close as can be, living like nothing else matters as long as you have this love. Through gentle caresses, one unsteady heartbeat and an even unsteadier one, things are good.

Toji swears he will never feel this content and at peace anywhere else. You have a way of making him feel like he is everything. The way your eyes twinkle when you see him, the way you bare your soul to him every time you smile—it's love. It's pure, unadulterated love. He's your friend, your lover, your confidant, and he will never settle for being anything less than those things.

With one more brush of your lips, you both put the kissing on hold and lay there, just a little bit breathless. His hand rests on your lower back, playing with the hem of your shirt.

"I love you so fucking much, doll. You know that?" He murmurs, his attention bouncing between your lips that won't stop calling for him to kiss them and the warmth in your eyes. "Fridays aren't just another day, anymore. Same for every day I get to see you or even just talk to you on the phone if we can't be together." A soft sigh escapes his nose, followed by a very brief pause. "You just know how to make things better, and I wish you would believe it because you feel that way too, not just because i'm telling you."

"I'm sorry," you mumble.

"No. I don't want that, baby. Tell me something else."

"I love you, Toji," you say, ensuring that you speak clearly so that he gets the important words you need him to hear. "I like being around you. You'll never know just how safe you make me feel, but I do want you to know that it goes past the physical aspect."

He smiles, the expression soft, not telling of the giddiness that just spread throughout his body. A soft hum, followed by a somewhat frustrated sounding groan, precedes you being pulled into his tight embrace. You can't help the giggles that eventually evolve into laughter that just spills from you when he bombards your face with kisses. His lips press against your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the corners of your lips before he actually leaves a rapid barrage of pecks on your lips. Deep chuckles slip through his affectionate assault when you plant your hand on his chest, weakly pushing at him through the joyous sound of your laugh.

"T-Toji!" You squeal, your entire body shaking through your nonstop laughter. Despite it being nighttime, Toji feels like he's kissing and cuddling with the sun. His cheeks almost hurt from smiling so much.

With one final, elongated kiss to your forehead, he relents and lets you catch your breath. Soft giggles continue to flow past your lips as you work on composing yourself.

"You drive me crazy, doll," he says, grinning at how your chest still slightly heaves. He could do this every night with you, in a shared bed, that is in your shared bedroom, in your shared home.

"Alright, let's see what this movie's about," he mutters, flipping onto his back. "Come here." By now, the two words are a staple to Toji's conversations with you, because he always wants you attached to him. He outstretches his arm, and waits for you to scooch over and lay your head on his chest. Once you settle in, his arm wraps around you, tightly.

As you both try to catch up on what is going on in the movie, you realize none of it is making sense. You think it might be futile to try and understand what is happening when it may have been explained during the intro, but neither you nor Toji mind it, and just continue watching through the confusion, because the intro to this movie was never going to be as good as the moment you shared during it.

[elene78-blog]

TGR SPOILERS and THEORY ABOUT KEVIN AND JEAN

Am I the only one who found the contrast between TSC's "nice" Kevin and TGR's "rude" and slightly douchebag Kevin weird?

 Yes, Kevin had his moments of kindness, but he went from asking Jean to breathe, with his head in his hands, to roughly slamming him against the wall to calm him down before the interview in a threatening tone. He went from holding Jean's hand gently while he was in bed to "I know you hate me sometimes. I don't care."

 Okay, yeah, Kevin sends Jean a new postcard and all, and they have a very revealing conversation, but the contrast kept me pretty mad at him overall. Furthermore, in the interview Kevin was also quite rude compared to how he usually appears. Honestly, I saw Kevin as a real asshole compared to TSC. I found this change very strange. And I just thought about something about that, something that has already been exemplified in the original trilogy, and my theory is that...

 Kevin has always been this jerk (I call him that affectionately, you know what I mean) even on TSC, but Jean was describing him with the eyes of a person who idealizes another. This makes a ton of sense because Kevin was all the kindness Jean knew. Just Kevin and his tough love. The only person he's ever been "in love" with... until now.

That's why in TSC Kevin is so soft, because we see him through the eyes of a Jean who only knew that "kindness", of a Jean who continued to idealize him even though he also hated Kevin. A Jean who says "he has earned the right to be arrogant" without hesitation because Kevin continued to be his reference in terms of conflicting feelings.

 But this is no longer the case, is it?

 Now Jean knows what kindness is outside of The Nest. Now Jean has started to develop feelings for someone else, and no one has treated him like Kevin has, with that harshness at USC. Jeremy, his partner, has never treated him like that either. That's why TGR's Kevin is tougher in contrast to TSC and much less kind, because Jean is starting to stop idealizing Kevin now that he knows the genuine kindness of people who haven't been to The Nest. He sees the difference between Kevin and his current friends, and starts to go crazy because... Has Kevin always been like this, or did Jean see him that way because he didn't know anything else? 

In other words... Jean is "falling out of love."

Let's look at this a little more closely from when Kevin arrives to when he leaves: 

1. - Kevin arrives and helps Jean get dressed. Jeremy sees how Jean lets herself go and his eyes even shine a little. Some people say this shows that Jean is still in love with Kevin. I think it shows Jean's idealization of him, and a reflection of his own history (I think Jean stopped being in love with Kevin a long time ago, but Kevin was one of the few good things Jean had in The Nest, so he holds onto those few good memories tightly). 

2. - Kevin starts drinking and Jean loses his temper. Try to attack him. Kevin shakes him roughly and Jean relents. Why does Jean attack? Because the Kevin he knows, his idealized image, doesn't drink or have problems. He outgrew The Nest. He's better than that. Here Jean's image of Kevin begins to fall and that makes Jean not understand anything and gets angry. Kevin has to be perfect because KEVIN CAME OUT OF THERE. But Kevin doesn't seem like it and Jean starts to get more and more nervous about it. 

3. - Jean's nervousness increases during the interview. We see Kevin being quite blunt with the interviewer and, although Kevin is protective of Jean, Jean's descriptions of Kevin's actions are quite distant. Maybe because of nervousness, who knows? But when Jean comes up to breathe, Jean says something revealing.

Jean doesn't care who accompanies him outside. He doesn't care if it's Kevin or anyone else. Jean is clear that Kevin can't do anything at this point. Kevin has failed in this interview and in his task, which was to make everything go well. 

4.- They return home with the taste of failure. Jean and Kevin talk. Kevin reveals that he needs the help of alcohol because therapy isn't always a help. He reveals that he still hears Riko in his head continuously. To put it another way, Kevin shows weakness to Jean and Jean is shocked.

 "You should be better."

 The idealization of Kevin practically disappears with this phrase, and what happens next demonstrates it.

 5.- Cat hugs Jean, almost crying for the loss of Elodie. Jean sees here Cat's kindness versus the kindness that Kevin has barely been able to give him because Kevin doesn't know what kindness is either. This scene is very powerful because this is where Jean's change begins. This is where I think Jean begins to recognize his people. Kevin can't do more because Kevin is Jean's equal, not someone superior like Jean has always believed. If Kevin is just like Jean... That means Kevin is also "weak."

The idealization ends. Now everything depends on Jean. And from here on, the protective Jean appears because Jean understands that, if the immovable point that was Kevin is not such a thing and everything has been a lie that has been created in his own mind, only he himself can protect and help his people. 

The Nest's psyche begins to crumble because number two, second only to Riko, is just like Jean. This psyche begins to crumble because true kindness is that of "his people", not that of The Nest. If Kevin is not immovable, anything can happen. 

6.- And then Jean hits Bryson to protect Jeremy and his own home. 

Does it make sense?

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

HAPPY ST DAVIDS DAY <33

I'm Welsh and in England (uni) for St Davids Day for it this year so have some Welsh Remus instead :)

"Hey, Moony?" Remus hears Sirius' voice, gentle and lilting, before he appears beside him. Remus shifts his weight slightly, offering him space on the windowsill. He sits opposite with a smile, and Remus does his best to offer one back. "I got you something." He holds out a box, carefully wrapped in green and white paper, tied with a shiny red ribbon. For a second, Remus just looks at it, confused.

"What...?" His eyes scan over the paper, only confusing him further. "It's March."

"I know."

"And not my birthday," he adds quickly, just in case Sirius has forgotten.

"Merlin, you have so little faith in me," Sirius says dramatically, miming being stabbed in the heart with an amused smile. "This isn't for your birthday. Just open it!" He holds the box a little further out, and Remus just decides to indulge whatever Sirius has done. Maybe he's clocked that Remus is in a foul fucking mood, and he's just stacked the box with chocolate. That would definitely make him feel better.

The moment he gets the box open, his heart stops.

The package is packed high with welsh cakes. Traditional, chocolate chip, even some with peanuts mixed in, from the look of it. They're all wrapped in clear film, tied with a bow that only Hope knows how to do.

Not only that, but there are daffodils stuffed in every space they'd fit into, a tiny Welsh flag, and two little figurines that he would recognise anywhere. One, a Welsh lady that his mum had given him when he was little, faded but still smiling, her checked apron slightly ripped and her bonnet slipping off where the stitches have loosened. The other, a man dressed in a red waistcoat, flat cap and dickie bow. The bow is drooping, and the tiny fake leek practically unrecognisable.

"How-?" Remus looks up at Sirius, stunned. "How did you get these?"

"I... sent your mum a letter." Remus picks up the flag with one hand, brushing his finger across the red dragon on the front. "Why didn't you tell any of us it was a holiday today?"

"I just... it seemed dumb, I don't know," Remus mumbles, trying to blink back tears. He's never been more touched by a gesture in his life. "It's weird to care about St. David's Day this much anyway."

"I think it's nice," Sirius says softly. "Having a holiday you can share with your family like that?"

"Yeah, we... my extended family all do a mini eisteddfod every year," Remus says, unable to help the smile on his face. "I- well, I haven't been in seven years, now."

"Rem..."

"I can't believe you did all of this."

"Yeah, well... I wanted to cheer you up a little." Sirius smiles a little anxiously, as though he's worried that Remus is going to hate it.

Before he can worry any further, Remus leans in and connects their lips. It's only brief, before he pulls away with a smile, lacing his fingers through Sirius'.

"It's amazing. You're amazing. Thank you so much." Sirius blushes, and Remus has never felt luckier in his life, having Sirius by his side. "Right, now you need to try a Welsh cake."

"Oh, it's- I don't really like raisins."

"Neither do I. These don't count, come on."

Maybe St. David's Day can be fun away from Wales.

Maybe anything can be fun when Sirius is involved.

[angellayercake]

Banchetto: Dolce

Papa Emeritus III x Reader | NSFW

AO3 | Fromaggi e Frutta | Masterpost

Thank you all a million times for your patience with me!! There are only two chapters left now and I really hope that all your interest and support will be rewarded but that is for later. This chapter is dedicated to @dolceterzo it should have been your birthday present but I still wanted to thank you for all your support and loveliness. You are so patient and kind with me even when I probably don't deserve it so I really hope you enjoy 💜💜💜

The dough needs to rest to get the best results so you prepare ahead of time. The base is typical flour, sugar, butter and egg yolks but the flavour comes in here also, adding cinnamon, cocoa, a pinch of salt and a sweet wine. The butter mixes into the combined dry ingredients breaking up every lump into a fine crumb. The eggs and marsala combine to form a soft dough which after kneading must be rested and refrigerated.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

‘Fuck me.’ Although barely a whisper it comes out of you unbidden and you both freeze staring at each other in shock. The world continues turning, the television continues blaring the day time show you had been pretending to watch, the blankets change from comfortably warm to uncomfortably stifling. His stillness is almost unnerving as he tries to process what you just said. 

It may have not been what you were planning to say when you opened your mouth a moment ago but your demand wasn’t entirely unprompted. The morning had been unseasonably cold, something Terzo had taken as a personal offence, by the time you had reached his quarters the fire was roaring and he was sequestered under, in your opinion, an excessive amount of blankets. After bringing him his breakfast he had insisted you joined him. 

‘I can't feel my toes, cara mia! What if my fingers are next?’ He cries mournfully, wiggling his fingers under the blanket. You wait him out, holding his plate and coffee mug out patiently until he relents with a dramatic huff. He wriggles until his arms are free of the blanket and takes them from you, pouting all the while and muttering to himself as he takes a bite out of his toast. 

‘It is as if I woke up in the Arctic.’ He takes a sip of his coffee. ‘See if I spend one more winter in this frozen place.’ Another larger bit of toast. ‘I should be in the Bahamas or somewhere nice. Warm.’ You watch him fondly as he finishes off his breakfast, grumbling all the while. 

‘Is there anything else I can do for you this morning Terzo?’ He gives you a sidelong glance refusing to give up his frown just yet but there is a twinkle in his eye you know means his mood is already lifting. 

‘I fear there is but one thing that will save my fingers and toes.’ He almost keeps a straight face but the corners of his lips give him away lifting as he tries and fails not to be amused by his own idea. ‘You must join me here cara mia, share your body heat so your Papa doesn’t freeze to death.’ 

‘And that is the only way to save you?’ You have no plans to refuse him, there is nothing for you to do for a while anyway and it would take a stronger person to refuse an opportunity to snuggle with this ridiculous man. 

‘The only way! You would not let me freeze to death would you?’ He looks at you pleadingly as you take the plate and mug from him and set them on the side table.

‘No I would not, I would miss you too much.’ He lifts the blanket with a much more genuine smile, until you don’t move quite fast enough for his liking, a scowl overtaking his face as watches you step out of your shoes before he hurries you under the blankets before too much cold air can get it. And so you found yourself held as close as you could possibly get, under the guise of helping him keep warm. He was pressed against your back, chest to thigh, your neck pillowed on one of his arms which was now looped around you, his hand caressing your shoulder through the fabric of your jumper. His other arm laid against your thigh as he had wandered his fingers down the side seam of your skirt, before resting on the curve of your hip. 

As impatient as he may have been with you he clearly appreciated your forethought, wasting no time intertwining his feet with yours. Even though you had both unspokenly acknowledged his thorough exaggeration you are momentarily shocked by the chilly temperature of his toes even through his socks.Before long your shared body heat does the job creating a cosy and relaxed bubble where the two of you can while away the morning. You are content, and so is he for a time but whether it had been his plan all along or whether he just couldn’t help himself, his wandering, fidgeting hands become a distraction.

The hand that had been resting on your hip gives him away first slowly bringing the hem of your skirt up your thighs inch by inch until you can feel his warm fingers against bare skin. You let him continue, unable to conjure even one reason why you should stop him. The anticipation builds as you wait for him to make his next move. Fingers creeping teasingly slow across the top of your thigh while you feign interest in the day time telly that was playing out quietly across the room. If someone was to ask you to explain what was happening you wouldn’t have a clue but you do so enjoy these little games the two of you play together. 

He stops just shy of your underwear, tracing teasing circles against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The barest pressure of  the side of his finger skims you through your underwear as he strokes you and it takes all the will power you possess not to squirm and grind down for more. It feels like forever as he keeps pushing and pushing. Giving you nothing but the barely there back and forth of his fingers. Even though you can’t see it like this his smirk is palpable as your wetness starts to seep through the infuriating material that bars you from his touch. How could you be blamed for your patience finally snapping?

The few seconds since you spoke stretch like hours as he gapes at you, fingers still poised between your legs. You catch his eye over your shoulder trying to gauge his reaction but as you shift you feel the tell tale bulge against your ass. From your forwardness or his teasing you aren’t sure but his obvious arousal gives you the confidence you need to try to spur him back to action. 

Stuck in this awkward position there is only one thing you can think to try. Moving deliberately as you hold his gaze you grind your hips back, pressing your ass against his bulge. He sucks in a sharp breath, his hips twitching towards the friction and his grip tightening on your shoulder. 

‘Terzo,’ you say, not even trying to suppress the whine in your voice. ‘Stop teasing and fuck me.’ You grind your hips back against him again to punctuate your words and it is only the combination that seems to crash him back to reality. He takes advantage of how you have twisted to look at him, kissing you clumsily. He misses your lips entirely on the first try, his shock and eagerness overwhelming his usual self control. When he finally captures your lips he doesn’t relent, lapping at your lips determinedly until you open for him then shifting trying to untangle himself from your limbs and the blankets.

‘You are sure?’ He questions, showing an unexpected hesitance as he hovers over you, his hand still warm against your thigh and still not offering you more than a tease of pleasure. It’s not that you had been deliberately waiting. You knew from experience there was no right time and it’s not even something the two of you had discussed. It had been an unspoken arrangement to allow your relationship to progress and in this exact moment you knew you needed him now. With your voice now caught somewhere in your throat you can only nod frantically to reassure him before pulling him in for another intoxicating kiss. 

His fingers firm up against you finally dispensing with the teasing touches and instead exploring, checking if you were ready to take him. He finds the wet patch again easily, not even needing to find your entrance, you can't help but grind down against his hand confirming what he must already know, you need nothing but him inside you as soon as possible. 

Your patience wearing thin you find his waistband, thankful he had yet to change out of his lounge pants so you can impatiently push down and free his cock. It takes some manoeuvring, becoming slightly awkward in that way that first times tangled in blankets tended to be. There is  barely enough room for him to twist between your legs and it's too hot considering you were both still mostly dressed but you don’t want to stop. He attempts to slide your knickers down your hips but he is already between your legs and the thought of him moving away from you instead of closer, closer, closer, in order to remove them has you slap his hands away. 

With little effort you pull the gusset to the side, hooking your calf around the back of his thighs to pull him close enough to line up the blunt head of his cock with your entrance. His hips jerk forward the moment he can feel your wet heat but you hiss, the slick still not quite enough to soothe the initial stretch. He pulls back blinking at you owlishly. 

‘Did I hurt you?’ His worry overtakes him and he begins to pull away bracing his knees on the sofa cushion beneath you. You shake your head, tightening your legs around him, enjoying the soft give of his hips against your thighs.

‘It’s ok,’ you sound breathless but you don’t care, only able to focus on getting what you want. Inelegantly you spit into your hand, the only quick solution coming to your mind. Prepared for his reaction this time, you swipe over his cock anticipating how he thrusts into your palm and hoping the cursory improvised lube will be enough because you need him now. You barely have to line him up before he is taking over, pushing into you in one hurried thrust. Gasping into each others mouths you stare, still somewhat wide eyed and surprised that you are suddenly fucking. 

The stillness breaks you first but trapped as you are between the tangled blankets and his welcome weight on top of you you can hardly take control. You wiggle your hips to no avail so resort instead to baring down, squeezing him tight inside you his reaction almost instant snapping out of his lust induced daze only to give you a smirk. 

‘Quanto è impaziente la mia ragazza,’ he says, brushing his nose along yours until he can press a kiss to your cheek that might almost be considered chaste if his cock wasn’t buried to the hilt inside you. He trails kisses down your face to your jaw, nuzzling at the joint until you give in with a sigh, tipping your head back to offer your neck up to him. He sucks and nibbles at your skin as he finally, finally moves, the pull out agonisingly slow despite the relief that he was moving at last.    

It feels indescribably good as you move together, not frantic and fast as you might have imagined it, and you imagined it a lot. Not too slow either, just right. Good. He loses purchase once, twice before giving up on holding any space between you, resting his soft body against yours. It is your turn to wrap yourself around him craving to feel every inch possible pressed against you even as you curse the layers of clothes you hadn’t bothered to remove. 

Next time, you think with a thrill, certain as you are there will be a next time, you will make sure you can feel all of him. A shudder wracks through your body, mostly from the way he is grinding his hips, rubbing back and forth against your gspot in a way that has the beginnings of your climax curling in your belly. But also the thought of the future of feeling his soft skin pressed against yours, tickling hair and beads of sweat. Now you had a taste you weren’t sure you could wait.   

His lips find yours again as your bodies move together, kissing you deeply until you can hardly tell where you end and he begins. A shudder passes through you after an especially deep roll of his hips, your whole body tensing as your orgasm starts to build. He breaks the kiss with a grunt, resting his sweat-dampened forehead against yours. 

‘Cazzo!’ He groans. ‘Sto per venue.’ He seems as if he is speaking to himself, pleasure glazed eyes blinking at you slowly. His eyes regain focus locking onto yours and you feel that pleasurable shudder run through you again. 

‘I need to feel you cum on my cock mia cuocoina.’ His hands grip your hips holding you still as he starts to fuck you harder, his precise thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge. His upper body covers yours, his comforting weight and more deliberate attentions making your breath come shallow and fast until your head is spinning. You grip his shoulders tightly needing something to ground yourself as. WIth a growl he shakes off the blanket, kneeling back so he can fuck in to you even harder. You would miss his closeness if you didn’t feel so connected by his burning gaze and iron grip on your hips, pulling you back to meet his every thrust. 

Even without the blankets the heat between you is stifling as you both hurtle towards your climax. You can’t even speak, barely lucid enough to keep breathing when his thrusts begin to stutter and lose rhythm. His thumb finds your clit rubbing barely in time with his thrusts but it's enough and you cum with a gasp, your hands gripping his waist like your life depends on it. 

‘Fuck, fuck, FUCK!’ He moans as he rides out the pulses of your climax. He throws his head back with a groan pushing as deep inside you as he can as his orgasm overtakes him, his thrusts shallowly matching the pulsing of his cock. He pants for breath above you, his cheeks pink from the exertion but a smile creeps over his face that you can’t help but match. 

‘Fuck,’ you sigh, still feeling light headed with pleasure. As you look at him you feel a rush of feelings you still don’t quite want to put a name to but you push aside those thoughts for now to focus on the moment. Using what little strength you can muster you open your arms and he eagerly accepts, his exhaustion already creeping up on him. 

‘Fuck,’ he murmurs into your chest as he settles in your arms. Your fingers wind your way into his damp hair, smoothing the strands from his forehead so you can drop a gentle kiss in its place. He sighs contentedly, his eyes drifting closed. The telly continues playing the unwatched mid morning drama but nothing could pull your attention from the man falling asleep in your arms.  

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The rolls themselves can be made ahead as well. The dough rolled out thin and precise circles then carefully wrapped around cylindrical mould. Your oil should be hot and ready, maintaining a steady temperature for the quick work that is ahead. It takes but a minute for them to cook perfectly crisp, golden brown and bubbling on the surface. While still warm remove them from the mould and place on paper towels allowing excess oil to wick away and when cooled you can carefully package them away. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

It’s not even that the two of you have become insatiable now. You still cook him three square meals and all that entails and you still head to your own room at the end of each day. He still attends to his reduced duties in a timely manner. It was just now when he looked at you with darkened eyes and lascivious smirk it went further than the flirtatious innuendo it used to end with. Though the tension had been delicious you can’t be anything but thrilled with the turn of events.

This time your only warning was the sound of him entering the kitchen to find you leant over the table in the middle of the kitchen finishing some preparation. He says nothing, only squeezing your hips firmly before easing his hand up your spine encouraging you to lean forward. In anticipation you slide your chopping board out of the way until you are bent over the surface as he cups the back of your neck with another more gentle squeeze as if asking for your permission to continue. With the small amount of room he has given you to manoeuvre you turn your head to the side and you can see him at the corner of your vision. As you nod though your head knocks the chopping board and you suspect your food prep needs to be moved to a much safer place before he continues.

‘Papa, the food,’ you say, hoping he understands what you are trying to communicate, struggling to put together a more elaborate series of words in your current state. 

‘You stay exactly where you are.’ His commanding voice makes you shiver and you give thanks to Satan that he understood your meaning as he slowly walks around the table. One at a time he moves the chopping board and bowls off the table. Your field of vision doesn’t allow you to see exactly where and you dare not move, knowing without seeing that his eyes are locked on you checking for any signs of your disobedience. 

‘Are you happy now?’ He asks when what you can see of the table is clear. 

‘Yes Papa.’ He circles back around the table resuming his position, one large hand on your hip and the other gripping the back of your neck, pinning you in place. 

‘Now where were we?’ He presses his erection against your ass, groaning at the little friction he is allowing himself. 

‘Do you know,’ he starts, his conversational tone so at odds with the way he is touching you. ‘How many times I have imagined you like this?’ The hand at the back of your neck starts to move, caressing across your shoulders then down your back leaving goosebumps in its wake. Both hands settle on your ass cheeks, squeezing firmly until you gasp. He grinds his cock against you again, the hard ridge of his arousal catching you perfectly. You are already so wet when he pulls back your skirt is stuck to you and he lets out a long slow breath when he notices. He lifts the hem of your skirt up revealing you to his gaze.  

‘Puttana,’ he mutters, freezing in place for just when he realises that you hadn’t bothered with any underwear this morning. ‘Cazzo,’ the sight of you wet and ready for him to take must chip away at his self control, he grabs your wrist twisting it to the small of your back and directs you to hold up your skirt for him.   

‘All spread out over this table just for me.’ He has barely even touched you but your breath comes in pants as you listen to him opening his trousers, the pop of buttons, the click of clasps clasps and the hurried unzipping of his fly. You feel the heat of him before he even touches you but instead of fucking into you like you need he pushes the head of his cock between your thighs. His breath stutters at the sensation of your pillowy thighs squeezing his cock as he slowly thrusts. The sensation only makes you more desperate as he takes his pleasure from your body without giving you anything in return. 

‘If I had known how desperate for me you were before,’ he says, slowly, softly, making you wait even for his words when he finally, finally angles his next slow thrust upwards. The tip of his cock gradually pushing through your folds and nudging at your clit with the same slow precise rhythm of his carefully chosen words. 

‘That every time I had the urge I could have bent you over.’ His every action seems designed to drive you mad with want. He finds your entrance with ease, the pressure just enough to make you clench in anticipation but yet not enough to give you any satisfaction. ‘And fucked you.’ 

You aren’t quite used to it yet, the delicious stretch, the perfect angle of him. He must be watching himself fuck you, pulling out infuriatingly slow before thrusting back in, knocking th air from your lungs each time. His self control doesn’t last for long though, the tight wet heat of you pulling him in over and over again until he is pushing into you hard and fast. The heavy table creaks at the onslaught and you are sure to have bruises on your hips where he is pressing you into the edge but it feels too good for you to consider stopping for a second.

It’s not long before you sense him getting close, leaning over you for support, his soft stomach pressing your hand into your back. For a moment you find yourself again wishing you had taken the time to pull off each other's clothes so you could feel his bare skin against you, the soft scratch of his chest hair, but there would be time for that. Next time you promise yourself yet again, as you feel your orgasm washing over you. 

You stare through the table top, your head buzzing, somewhat detached from reality. His final thrusts jolt through your body as he joins you in bliss, his strength seeping out of him as he collapses  against your back. The world comes back into focus with him panting against the back of your neck, the welcome weight of him slightly less welcome this time now you are pressed against the kitchen table. 

‘Terzo, the table is quite hard,’ you inform him, attempting to push yourself into a more upright position. 

‘Oh! Mi dispiace,’ he says hurriedly lifting himself off of you. You grab his wrist before he can get too far though turning to face him. 

‘I’m going to think about that every time I am preparing food now,’ you tease him with a smile, drawing him in for a kiss. 

‘Mmmm but I was already.’ You giggle as he kisses you, languid and warm until his rumbling tummy makes you break apart with laughter. You both look down at his complaining stomach, then back up at each other, laughing even harder.

‘I think I better finish off this meal,’ you say, righting your dress. ‘Before we get any more complaining out of you,’ you joke, giving his tummy a gentle poke. He swats away your hand before flopping into one of the chairs just out the way, watching you get back to work with a dreamy expression. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The filling is as important as the dough being one of only two components and can be flavoured to your preference. Generous spoonfuls of ricotta and mascarpone are whisked together with sugar and candied fruit peel added to taste. The mixture is ready when it is light, airy and just sweet enough. Spoon into a piping bag and you are ready to assemble the final product.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

‘Terzo are you busy?’ You ask knocking on the door frame. He had mentioned craving something sweet earlier so you were hoping he would have the time to indulge both you and himself. You held the tray of cannoli behind your back, admiring him as you waited for him to finish with his work. He is once again wearing his glasses as he sits at his desk, reading over some documents. Though his brow is creased in mild frustration at whatever he is reading, his expression lifts as he acknowledges your interruption, a smile crossing his face as he drops the documents  on the desk and spins his chair to look at you properly. 

‘Not any more,’ he says, eyes raking you up and down over the rim of his glasses. ‘What can I do for you cara mia?’

‘I have a surprise for you,’ you reply coyly, slowly making your way towards him.   

‘A good surprise?’ He questions. You are almost insulted, when have you ever given him a bad surprise?

‘I would like to think so,’ you say, not willing to give away the surprise yet especially while he is questioning your motives.

‘Ok then, come and surprise me.’ He pats his lap beckoning you closer. You take a few steps closer then with a flourish present him the plate and his face lights up. 

‘Cannoli? For me?’ His face lights up in delight and you think that you want to make him happy like this everyday for the rest of your life but you push that aside for later.

‘You said you were craving something sweet,’ you say instead.

‘Ah mia cuocoina always making sure I am satisfied.’ He reaches for the plate but you wave his hands away a sudden idea coming to you on how you might satisfy him even further. Placing the plate on his desk just out of his reach you settle sideways across his lap leaning against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist holding you close and he presses a kiss to your cheek murmuring in thanks. 

‘Let me taste,’ he demands but this is one time where you have no intention of following his orders. You pick one off the top of the pile and hold it to his mouth forcing him to lean forwards to take a bite but just when the treat is within his reach you pull it away. 

‘No teasing cuocoina’ he says sternly.

‘You didn’t say please,’ you remind him sweetly.

‘Please. Now.’ he rolls his eyes at you as he says it, barely humouring you and yet expecting you to obey. You hold the treat towards him again but at the last second eat it yourself. He watches you in shock as you moan exaggeratedly at the taste, licking the escaped cream from your fingers and your lips.

‘Cara mia why would you tease me this way?’ He asks as if he isn’t the worst tease you have ever known. 

‘You didn’t say please,’ you repeat. He did say it technically, but he didn’t mean it and you were enjoying watching his frown lines deepen the more you wound him up.

‘I did,’ he says indignantly. 

‘You need to mean it,’ you say, reaching for another one and sucking the cream from inside first before popping the outer shell in your mouth.

‘Please mia cuocoina! Ti prego, per favore, please!’ He looks pleadingly between you and the plate as he begs and as much as you want to give in and let him taste you decide to push him a little bit further.

‘Show me how much you want it.’ He drops his pleading act in an instant the terrible man, his eyes darkening and a smirk pulling at his lips now he has figured out your game. 

‘If you insist.’ In a moment he is fully in control, his hand finding the back of your head to keep you in place as he shows you exactly how much he wants it. He kisses you fiercely, tongue delving between your lips searching out any left over flavour of the treat. He pauses to catch his breath and you take your chance, twisting in his lap and helping yourself to another. You lean back against his chest, tipping your head back against his shoulder and letting him watch you delicately lick the cream from inside before eating the pastry in two bites. 

‘You are an insufferable tease mia cuocoina,’ he growls it into your neck, nipping at what he knows is a weak spot for you as he watches you eat.

‘It takes one to know one.’ You are being childish, you know that but you are having fun. It’s not very often you get under his skin and you want to stretch it out for as long as possible. 

‘I thought this was my surprise.’ And even despite his grumbling you can feel him getting hard beneath you. 

‘I decided you need to earn it.’ You push even as you tip your head offering him more of your neck to torture you in return.

‘Oh.’ You’re in for it now you can tell by the sound of his voice but you couldn’t be happier. He slides his hands down your waist and over your thighs, spreading your legs and bracing you either side of his lap. ‘I see how it is.’ He unbuttons your habit slowly working from the hem up to your neckline peeling back the material. He sighs in satisfaction when he sees your underwear, delicate purple lace with sparkling gold embroidery.  

‘I like this,’ he comments as he slips his hands into the cups of your bra, teasing your nipples with controlled pinches and flicks of his fingers. 

‘Have another,’ he tells you, pinching your nipples sharply when you take a bite. This is his payback, you realise when he doesn’t relent, alternating between massaging your breasts and stroking your nipples, surprising you with hard pinches everytime he thinks you have got too comfortable. You need more, more of something but he offers you nothing, spreading his legs inside yours so you can’t even grind down or press your thighs together to get some relief. He pushes you until you are whining with every breath, every part of your body except your voice screaming please. 

‘Not nice is it mia cuocoina.’ He sounds so smug you almost want to scream except this is what you wanted wasn’t it? You should have known you could never beat him at his own game. 

‘Ok ok,’ you give in, reaching for another cannoli and holding it to his mouth and finally let him take a bite revelling in his moans as the flavour fills his mouth. 

‘So good,’ he groans, accepting you surrender as he finally reaches into your underwear circling your clit deftly working you until you are again writhing in his lap. Clearly having run out of patience himself he pushes you forward against his desk giving him just enough room to fumble with his trousers. He takes your hips encouraging you up just enough that he can find your entrance with his bared cock and as soon as he does he pulls you down until you are once again seated on his lap but this time full with more than just cannoli. 

Before either of you move you offer him another; he eats it messily, licking spilled filling from your fingers before bracing your hips and helping you ride him in his seat. You are both so worked up you find your rhythm easily bouncing and grinding in his lap the sweet taste of dessert on your tongues. His hands roam your body squeezing and caressing before he finds his way back into your underwear stroking you in time with your movements until your legs start to feel like jelly.

When you can no longer coordinate your movements he lifts you up bracing yourself against the arms of his chair so he can fuck up into you. His angle is perfect, hitting you over and over again in exactly the right spot that has sparks flying across your vision. Your arms start to shake but you focus every bit of strength you have left to staying exactly where you are, his legs are shaking too and you know he is just as close as you are. 

With one last thrust he pulls you back down into his lap, moaning as he cums inside you, losing himself in his pleasure. You can feel the pulses of it as he finishes not quite enough to tip you over the edge but intensely satisfying all the same. After a moment he comes back to himself finishing you off with his fingers and moaning along with you as you cum around his spent cock. 

In a daze you look down at yourself, almost fully dressed aside from your open habit and curse yourself once again for you rushed fucking. Next time, you swear to yourself, next time you will insist on doing things properly. He nuzzles against your neck now, soft kisses where before there were sharp nips. 

‘Have I earned my treats now?’ He asks sweetly, starting to button you back up without letting you move an inch away from him. He had more than earned his treat, as many as he wanted so you feed him another without any further resistance, pausing between each to kiss the taste of cream from his lips.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

At the last possible moment you want to fill them, as you want to serve them straight away. Placing the nozzle into the centre you fill each roll generously ending with a flourish in the shape of your favoured piping nozzle. Coat the end with your topping of choice then set on your serving dish.  Before long you will build a rhythm, fill, top and display. Fill, top and display until every last one is cream filled. Finally dust with a fine layer of sugar and they are ready to be devoured.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

You had been trying to leave this time, you really had. Admittedly it was getting harder and harder as time went on. Many weeks ago he had started walking you to the door each night, long before even your first proper date. Lingering conversations had become lingering touches which had all culminated in tonight. 

He had you pinned up against the door both your wrists grasped in one hand against the hard wood. The leg you weren’t wobbly balancing on was hooked around his hips keeping him close, your underwear already dangling from your ankle. At some point he had managed to undo his trousers, the loose belt buckle digging into your hips where he was pressed up against you and somehow his fingers were buried inside you twisting and stroking perfectly despite his arm being trapped between you. 

He was kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin of your neck, probably leaving terrible marks but you couldn’t care less. Lost in his muttering against your skin. How irresistible he finds you, that you are a temptation he would never resist, how he can’t bear to be separated from you without the scent of you on his fingers or the memory of being inside you. It’s pure filth but from him, in his melodic Italian drawl it sounded like the most romantic poetry you had ever heard. Overwhelmed with pleasure you clench down on his fingers always needing more, more, more of him.

‘I need you now,’ he groans, pulling away from your neck and withdrawing his fingers, leaving you empty and wanting and even more desperate. He fumbles between you trying to line himself up, his quiet speech turning from seductive to frustrated. It doesn’t quite work, aborted thrusts not hitting home. He tries again standing on his toes, trying another angle which fails again. There is no deliberate tease this time, not when you are both this heated, this desperate. One last time and when he doesn’t hit his mark you both feel the tension snap. 

He snarls, losing patience entirely he grips your hips firmly and moves. One minute your feet are firmly on the ground the next he has lifted you clean off the floor encouraging you to wrap your legs around him. Your now free hands grip his shoulders as he lines up again. With gravity now on your side you sink down on his cock  and for a blissful moment you enjoy the fullness of him inside you after the drawn out torturous wait that is until he tries to move. 

A concerning yelp escapes from him at his first thrust, his leg giving out beneath him. Somehow in the tumble you find your feet steading him where he is knelt before you both fall to the floor. All your frustration turns to worry in an instant as you rub his shoulders as soothingly as you can manage.

‘Terzo are you ok?’ His forehead rests against your stomach for a moment before he offers up his hand asking without words for some help to get to his feet.

‘I forget sometimes, I am no longer a young man,’ he says wryly as smooths his hair looking anywhere but at you. 

‘It's ok.’ you say reassuringly. I like you exactly as you are.’ You press a kiss to his nose and wrap your arm around his shoulders once again. His lips start to pull up at the sides and he finally looks at you. 

‘Si, you do,’ he says before shifting his weight to his leg with a wince, his expression becoming more serious. 

‘Do you think?’ He hesitates. ‘Maybe it would be more sensible to take this to a bed, si?’ It is your turn to hesitate wondering if he is really suggesting what you think he is. This has been another one of the two of your unwritten rules. You had never stayed the night with him always returning to your own rooms a reasonable time after serving his dinner. Yes that time had stretched longer and longer but it was a line neither of you had ever broached. Until tonight. 

‘Would you like to spend the night with me?’ He asks, seeming to sense you needed him to properly state his attentions and as he does your heart starts beating faster. The rush of your feelings is overwhelming all of a sudden. This was real, not that you had doubted him for a long time but this felt like a bigger step, a bigger declaration then any of the other things that had happened before and it was just for the two of you. 

‘I would love to spend the night with you.’ He kisses you softly, taking your hands in his. He leads you towards his room, pausing every few steps, unable to keep his lips from yours for long, as you manage to dodge around the armchairs and side tables in his sitting room. Realising you finally have your chance to feel all of him you eagerly reach for his collar unbuttoning his shirt in between kisses pushing it from his shoulders to puddle on the floor. Your knickers are long gone, abandoned back in his office but he doesn’t hesitate to pulls your dress over your head and your bra removed not long after his dexterous fingers make quick work of the clasp. 

The dining table proves a difficult obstacle but you take advantage, pushing him against the edge so you can pull his vest free of his already open trousers and finally get to run your hands over his bare chest. He moans as you scratch your fingers through his chest hair, his hands resting on your ass pulling you ever closer. After another moment he spins you away from the table walking you back and towards his room.

You find yourself pressed against a door once again, the cold wood contrasting his warm softness against your bare skin. He fumbles for the handle even less inclined to interrupt your kiss now he is so close to finally getting you where he wants you. The door opens and you are through. You had been in here a few times before but never like this never with the intention and invitation to stay.

He breaks away from you stepping towards the foot of the bed watching you as he shimmies out of his trousers so he can lie back on the bed gesturing you closer and you don’t need to be asked twice. You crawl over him revelling in feeling all of him. The soft hair of his chest against your nipples, the give of his soft stomach, the way your thighs spread to accommodate his hips and his beautiful face watching you with such fondness and desire. All it takes is a guiding hand and a shift of your hips and he is finally inside you again. 

This feels like more than sex, then lust as you move together, the closest you have ever been. You had been avoiding it for a long time putting a name to the way you feel about him but it’s undeniable. You love him. You love everything about him. The more you have got to know him, the real him, the harder you have fallen.  It wouldn’t matter if you were told to stop working for him tomorrow, you would want to make sure he was happy and looked after and being with him like this only makes that stronger.

‘I love you,’ you whisper against his lips not wanting to hold it in for a second longer. 

‘What?’ He blinks at you in confusion, like he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

‘I love you Terzo.’ You say more firmly giving him no room for doubt. He stares at you for a moment longer. Then he kisses you so passionately he takes your breath away. WIth a surprising amount of grace he rolls you over, wrapping you securely in his arms beneath him. He doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t need to. He shows you exactly how much you mean to him with his attentive kisses and reverent touches. By making love to you in a way you had never experienced before until you were left with no doubt at all that he felt the same way as you. And later, as you fall asleep in his arms for the first time you can’t help but dream about the perfect future you are certain is laid out for the two of you. 

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

[shanastoryteller]

Feliz San Valentín!!! 💖💖💖 May I have some more time travel JC? Maybe about his relationship with the Nie brothers? I'm obsessed, THANK YOU

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Nie Mingjue doesn't have anything against Wei Cheng.

He's not nice, exactly, or soft. Or demure or conciliatory or amenable or any of the thousand different ways there are to describe someone who couldn't out stubborn a mule. Which means he really shouldn't be any sort of acceptable spouse to a sect leader.

Father's marriage to his mother had been arranged. He has dim memories of the woman who raised them, but in all of them she's soft. A strong cultivator, of course, with enough skill with a saber to make her a suitable wife, but by all accounts her personality hadn't matched her sword style. Huaisang's mother was the same, with a warm and courteous relationship with Father and nothing more. He'd liked her. She'd been kind towards him, treating him as her own, but that had just made it worse.

When she'd fallen ill and died, he'd just lost a mother for a second time, and it didn't even feel fair for him to be as gutted as he was, not with Huaisang sobbing into his side. She hadn't even been his mother. Even though he had more and clearer memories of her taking care of him than he had of his own mother, which felt like one more betrayal.

Wei Cheng isn't anyone's mother.

He's arrogant and irreverant and he's raised an arrogant and irreverant son. Wei Wuxian is even more prone to trouble than Huaisang, and it's not like Nie Mingjue can just leave him to it anymore than he can Huaisang, so he ends up in trouble too, getting chased through the woods and hiding from angry stall owners and giving the slip to his own disciples because Wei Wuxian cheerfully taking his punishments is even more annoying than how Huaisang whines through them and -

"Hiding from your brother?"

He looks up, startled, and sees Wei Cheng standing next to him. He hadn't noticed him approaching. He hadn't even known that Wei Cheng knew where this place was, but he suppose he can't be too surprised. He does have a habit of sticking his nose into everything.

"No," he says immediately, then cringes. "A little."

He really doesn't want to hear him talk about birds again. He wishes Wei Wuxian would stop catching them for Huaisang. What kind of respectable cultivator collects birds?

Wei Cheng's face goes fond and wistful and a little sad. He forgets, sometimes, that Wei Cheng isn't really Wei Wuxian's father, that he's his uncle, or something. Was Wei Changze his younger brother? Nie Mingjue thinks of something happening to Huaisang or Wei Wuxian when he's not there to protect them and it makes his heartrate pick up. It's terrible, for Wei Cheng to lose his brother like that, and he hadn't meant to remind him of it. Nie Mingjue wants to change the subject but doesn't know what to say. "Um. Did you need something?"

"Hm?" His eyes clear. "Oh, yeah. Your father's looking for you."

Nie Mingjue can't hold back a sigh. He just wants a couple hours without someone needing something from him.

Wei Cheng doesn't scold him. Instead his lips twitch and he says, "Forget it. He can talk to you later. Don't stay out past dinner."

He startles. "Are you sure? Won't he be mad?"

Father doesn't get mad often. But he does expect to be obeyed.

Wei Cheng rolls his eyes. "If he does, it'll be at me. He can yell at me if he wants."

Father doesn't really yell. But he and Wei Cheng do fight a lot.

"Thanks," he says, relaxing. That's another difference. Neither his mother nor Huaisang's would have ever directly gone against his father, not even on something this small. It just wasn't their place. It's not Wei Cheng's either, but it seems like no one's told him that. If Father didn't want Wei Cheng taking liberties, he shouldn't have offered him so many.

Wei Cheng reaches out, squeezing his shoulder, hand broad and warm and reassuring. "Don't worry about it. Stay out of trouble."

There's a teasing lilt to the last part, because it's always Huaisang and Wuxian getting him in trouble, but that just makes Nie Mingjue laugh, sharp an unexpected.

Wei Cheng is nothing like his father is supposed to want.

But he's not so bad.

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

Fodlan's favorite Girl Scout Cookies!

Main characters:

Byleth: Thin Mints. They've always had an inclination towards minty flavors, and Thin Mints hit the spot just right. Rumor has it the Goddess also favored mint. I wonder if that has anything to do with anything...

Shez: S'mores. Nothing like a cookie version of their favorite snack to get them thinking about the good old days with Captain Berling's Mercenaries. They'll be discontinued soon, but maybe one day they'll come back again in another form. I mean, hey, it happened once. You can't really keep S'mores down.

Black Eagles:

Edelgard: Adventurefuls. Chocolatey, nice caramel flavor, not too sweet, and the sea salt isn't overpowering. Just how she likes it.

Hubert: Thin Mints. Edelgard insisted he try Girl Scout Cookies one time and he was a tad surprised to find he liked them. Granted, he won't go out of his way to procure some (unless Edelgard asks him to), but he won't turn them down if offered.

Dorothea: Samoas. She really has a taste for coconut, and paired with the caramel glaze and chocolate drizzle, she just melts the second she bites into one.

Ferdinand: Toffee-tastic. I dunno, this sounds like a very noble variety he'd eat, but I think he'd also enjoy the flavor. Really, you can't go wrong with toffee for him.

Bernadetta: Tagalongs. They're her favorite comfort snack. Also chocolate + peanut butter = yum. Need I say more?

Caspar: Trefoils. He doesn't care much for Girl Scout Cookies, but he can and will devour an entire box of Trefoils in one sitting if you let him.

Petra: Doesn't eat them. She already had trouble understanding what Girl Scout Cookies were, but as soon as she bit into one of Caspar's Trefoils, her immediate reaction was, "Let us not be doing this again."

Linhardt: Savannah Smiles. He is forever miffed that they got discontinued. Lemon-Ups are no substitute.

Monica: Adventurefuls. No, it's not because they're also Edelgard's favorite, she has no idea what you're talking about!

Blue Lions:

Dimitri: Thin Mints. He may not be able to taste them, but he can feel the mint as he eats the cookies and finds it a pleasant sensation.

Dedue: Caramel Chocolate Chip. He's not keen on Girl Scout Cookies, but he figured he'd give one flavor a try. That was the one he picked and he liked it.

Felix: Thin Mints. It's the only variety he can tolerate.

Mercedes: Trefoils. This is actually pretty basic even by her own standards, but as the cookies are simple shortbread cookies, she likes to crush them up and add them to her baking recipes for texture and a little crunch. She's also looking into recreating discontinued varieties to give to her schoolmates.

Ashe: Do-si-dos. You know how some people will take Oreos, twist them apart to get the filling all on one side of the cookie, then put the two filling adorned pieces together to get double the filling? Ashe does the same thing with these. It's adorable to watch.

Annette: Toast-Yays. She likes all the varieties, but this is the one she'd have to pick as her favorite. She's sad that they're going to be discontinued soon, but she's volunteered to be Mercedes' taste tester.

Sylvain: Thanks-A-Lot. Felix tossed a box of them at him once and told him to do something with them, so he ate them and liked them. It was after they were discontinued that he realized Felix probably bought them for him as a means of showing his appreciation, but Sylvain has no evidence for this. Even if it's true, good luck getting Felix to admit that.

Ingrid: Toffee-tastic. Having a gluten allergy is hell on her, but Ferdinand shared a box with her after finding this out and she was so over the moon she almost forgot to ask what they were called so she could buy some for herself.

Rodrigue: No. Just don't.

Golden Deer:

Claude: Lemonades. Honestly, he'd go for anything lemon-flavored, these are just the ones that are being sold. He likes lemon.

Lorenz: Toffee-tastic. Ferdinand introduced them to him at the beginning of the school year. Now whenever the pair meet for tea, there's always a box of these present.

Hilda: Lemon Chalet Cremes. Another lover of lemon, she ate these all the time as a kid. Her talking about them is what gave Mercedes the idea of recreating the discontinued cookies.

Raphael: Rah-Rah Raisins. Even though they weren't available long, he couldn't deny that these were just the bomb. He misses these and wishes they would be sold again.

Lysithea: ALL OF THEM! Seriously, don't make her pick one, she will blue-screen on you.

Ignatz: Caramel DeLites-- er, Samoas. They're the same cookies, he's just used to getting boxes from a different bakery that calls them different names. "Why can't they just standardize the names?" is a constant thought in his head.

Marianne: Do-si-dos. Sure, it's just oatmeal cookies with peanut butter filling, but with how often Hilda would bust out a box of these whenever she got down, Marianne ended up associating the cookies with happy memories and longs talks about nothing with her best friend.

Leonie: Thin Mints. She'll say that she thinks Girl Scout Cookies are mid and doesn't get the hype, but break out a box of Thin Mints and Leonie will channel her inner Lysithea.

Holst: Lemon-Ups. He's also not much of a Girl Scout Cookie guy, but he'll occasionally pick up a box when he's in the mood. He's also known to steal a cookie or two from Hilda's boxes.

Judith: Van'chos. To say it's been years since she's had her favorite cookies would be an understatement. She misses them so much.

Ashen Wolves:

Yuri: Savannah Smiles. His mom would buy him a box every year and he fell in love with them at first bite. He misses the way the powdered sugar would shake off the cookie.

Balthus: Not a sweets guy, but he's the perfect guard for the other Wolves' cookies.

Hapi: Apple Cinnamons. Like Annette, she likes them all, but those would have to be her favorite if she had to pick only one. These days, she only eats knockoff versions since they've been discontinued since she was little.

Constance: Caramel Chocolate Chip. If you had asked her a few years ago, she would've said Tagalongs, but once these got introduced, it was so over. There's a new favorite in town.

Church/Knights of Seiros:

Rhea: Iced Berry Pinatas. These were a beloved treat for her over the years (and she's got plenty of those!). The icing and the berry filling together were perfection. She's encouraging Mercedes' recreation efforts.

Seteth: Another non-eater. He used to eat them a lot when he was younger, but he got burnt out on them. He'll still happily buy boxes for Flayn.

Flayn: Adventurefuls. She can taste the sea salt more acutely than others, but it makes her love the cookies that much more.

Cyril: Trefoils. Honestly, he just wants something plain and simple to snack on. What could be more plain and simple than basic shortbread cookies?

Jeralt: No thanks.

Catherine: Samoas. Taste doesn't matter to her, it's more of a texture thing. It helps that they have something of a crunch to them.

Alois: S'mores. The old school, big graham cracker ones, not the current ones. He used to do all sorts of snack variations with them for his kid and it was just the sweetest thing ever to see.

Gilbert: He would tell anyone who asked that he likes the cookies, enjoys them even, but in reality, he doesn't eat them. He instead sends them off to Annette. He knows she'll appreciate them.

Shamir: Scot-Teas. You were expecting Thin Mints, weren't you? It turns out she's not a fan of the chocolate/mint mixture, it grosses her out. Trefoils would've been her favorite, but the addition of sprinkled sugar on top made Scot-Teas perfect for her.

Go support your local Girl Scout troop!

what.

[miasmaghoul]

A lil bit of sweet swaeon based on this post.

1.5k of pampering, making out, jerking off, Aeon's praise kink and Swiss being so very good at abusing it via that filthy mouth of his

For @forlorn-crows <3

It's an early show night, where Aeon's still got the newbie nerves and just needs some comfort. He'd never expect to get it from Swiss, of all people, but he walks into their hotel room to find a bath drawn, the bed turned down and his favorite pj pants all laid out for him.

Swiss sits in a chair on the far side of the bed, legs kicked up, already changed into boxers and a loose tee. He smiles, gives Aeon a little finger wave. 

"What's all this for?" Aeon blinks between the bed and Swiss, the scent of the bath wafting through the room and enticing him to shrug off his duffel and hoodie. Swiss tucks both arms behind his head as the new kid toes off his sneakers.

"You," Swiss explains. "Thought you could use a soft touch for a change." Aeon pauses with his shirt halfway up, head tilted, and Swiss just winks. "Don't get used to it, kiddo."

Aeon rolls his eyes, hides his smile behind his shirt, and in no time he's sinking into the sweet-scented tub. Right up to his chin, dragging his fingers through the water while he hums to himself. 

At some point Swiss appears, pads into the steamy bathroom - but he's still dressed. Aeon still gives him a suspicious look, but Swiss simply kneels at the side of the tub and picks up the little bottle of shampoo tucked into a corner. Aeon certainly doesn't object, just melts into the water and lets Swiss' talented fingers massage his scalp.

He's loose-limbed and half asleep by the time the water cools and Swiss does his final rinse, but getting out, dried and dressed perks him up a bit. Not so much that he does anything but crawl into that huge bed, though. Groans as he slips between chilly sheets, tossing the covers up over his shoulders and snuggling into the pillows. 

"That was so nice," he mumbles, hunkering down. 

The mattress dips as Swiss crawls in on the opposite side. It's a king size bed, but Swiss still scoots across until he's close enough for their knees to touch. Until he can wrap a strong arm around Aeon's waist, palm flat against his spine. 

“Glad you enjoyed it,” he hums, leaning in to rub their noses together. “Whaddaya think, just wanna sleep tonight?” 

That hand rubs along his back, warm and solid, and Swiss’ smile is so gentle that Aeon can't help but kiss him. Just a meeting of lips, once that starts chaste but only deepens. Slowly though, slow enough that Aeon isn't even breathing all that heavy when their tongues part, or when Swiss tugs on his lip with dull teeth.

“Takin’ that as a no,” the other ghoul chuckles, and Aeon loves the way it flows through his ears. He opens his mouth to answer but lets out a yawn instead, and Swiss reaches up to play with his hair. “You're so fuckin’ cute.”

Aeon blinks at him, and then he's grinning like a fool. If they weren't glamoured, his tail would be thumping under the sheets. Swiss looks at him with a certain warmth in his eyes, and it tempers that grin some. Makes Aeon's smile into something more shy, more reserved, and it really is by accident that Swiss’ knee brushes against the tent in his flannels. Aeon sucks air through his teeth, immediately reaching down to cover up, but Swiss doesn't stop smiling. 

“So fuckin’ cute,” he says with crinkled eyes, and drags the backs of two fingers down the side of Aeon's angular face. “You still think you have to hide from me, sweet thing?” 

Aeon gives his head a little shake, eyelids fluttering when Swiss’ graze his jaw, tracing the line of his throat. He gives himself a squeeze, and something must happen to his face because Swiss makes a very pleased sound. 

“Making out always get you so worked up, baby?” 

The teasing note in his voice is so subtle that Aeon couldn't be blamed for missing it. He nods into his plush pillow as Swiss’ arm wraps around him once more, urging him closer. So close that Aeon can feel the warmth radiating from that strong body, curling into him like a cat by a crackling fire. He's really rubbing himself now, can't help it, but Swiss doesn't seem to mind one bit. 

“That's sweet,” Swiss comments as Aeon works the button of his flannels open, and the tiniest little noise escapes his throat. That isn't news to Swiss - the new kid has a praise kink to rival Mountain's and everyone knows it. “C’mere then,” he coaxes, kissing the tip of Aeon's nose. “Wanna make sure you feel so good tonight, just like this.” 

Aeon doesn't have time to ask what he means before their lips meet again, and the sigh he lets out is damn near angelic. 

The kiss grows deeper this time and Aeon's hand moves in time with Swiss’ tongue - long, languid strokes that have him panting through his nose in no time. There's a string of saliva connecting them when Swiss pulls back, and Aeon really doesn't mean to whimper but fuck he doesn't want to stop.

“Then don't stop, baby.” Swiss mumbles it against his lips, and Aeon doesn't care that he said that out loud. “Just keep playing with yourself,” and Aeon flat-out whines, “and let me take care of the rest.”

Aeon huffs, nods, and the moment Swiss’ lips meet his throat Aeon's toes curl. The pressure of his teeth, the gentle suction, the chill left behind on damp skin when Swiss moves to make another mark - all of it has Aeon leaking over his own knuckles. 

“That's my good boy,” Swiss breathes into the juncture of his neck, and Aeon shivers. “This's just what you needed, huh?” 

Aeon manages a questioning sound as Swiss nibbles his collarbone, now kissing a slow path back up towards his ear.

“This,” Swiss says, tongue flicking over his lobe, and then he's pulling Aeon in with both arms. Wrapping him up in that cocoon of warmth, softness and comfort. Something he hadn't even known he could crave, and yet here he is. Jerking himself stupid and panting into Swiss’ throat. His fist bumps the slight swell of Swiss’ tummy with every stroke, no doubt darkening his shirt. “Needed to be treated like the sweet lil’ thing you are, didn't you?” 

“Uh huh,” Aeon wheezes, a pitchy sound that catches in his throat. Swiss nuzzles his ear, kissing that one spot just behind it.

“Knew you did.” He smells like whiskey and warm spices and Aeon wants to shove his face into Swiss’ armpit and never come back up for air again. “Knew you just needed a soft hand. Know how I could tell?” 

Aeon can't shake his head anymore, too caught up in strong arms and that heady scent to do more than make pathetic little noises.

“Tonight, right after the show,” Swiss murmurs right into his ear. “I saw that moment with Papa, that one pat on your shoulder when he told you what a good job you did. I don't think anyone else did, but I saw the way your knees buckled.”

Aeon doesn't have it in him to be embarrassed, not even a little. He's too busy fucking his own fist, a sound he can hear even over the hum of the a/c.

“Knew right then you needed this, baby. Needed me to hold you close, whisper in your ear and tell you just how pretty you look with your cock in your hand.”

Aeon's answering moan comes with drool, soaking right into Swiss' shirt.

“You do, y'know. So pretty. Almost as pretty as that cross-eyed look you get when I get my fingers inside you. Do you know how pink your cheeks get like this? Pinker that sweet little ass when I get you over my knee. And speaking of pink -” 

The words stop making sense, a stream of filthy praise being injected directly into his brain. He's shaking all over, gasping with each frantic hump into the tight tunnel of his hand. His other hand sits faster in Swiss’ tee, stretching the fabric and exposing just enough skin for Aeon to bury his face in Swiss’ chest right as the words become clear again. 

“But you always look the prettiest like this,” Swiss purrs, dropping a kiss into his hair. “Right when you're about to make a nice -" another kiss, "big -" the last kiss comes with the added pleasire of Swiss' blunt nails sinking into his skin, right through his shirt, "mess.” 

Swiss squeezes him tight, presses Aeon's stroking hand between both of their bodies, and with a hurt little cry Aeon does just that. Shoots between their bellies, gets both of their shirts messy (or messier in Swiss’ case) as he works himself through it, colors bursting behind closed-tight lids. 

“That's my good boy,” Swiss repeats, stroking his spine as Aeon catches his breath. “Always such a good listener.” 

Aeon lets out a quiet giggle, wipes his sticky hand on his pants, and tucks both arms between their bodies. The embrace has loosened some, but not enough to dislodge him. Neither of them seem inclined to separate anyway. 

“Thank you,” he sighs, planting a little baby kiss on Swiss’ adam's apple. “‘S it your turn now?”

Swiss’ chest rumbles in a delightful way when he laughs, and another kiss finds Aeon's crown. 

“Took care of myself before you even got here, sweetheart. This was just for you.”

Aeon couldn't blush harder if he tried. 

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Hiatus.

I really need to take a break from here.

I'm always sad, I can't read anything and I don't see the point in sharing what I write anymore.

I don't think that complaining here will do anyone any good and there are definitely more important things to talk about, so I'm leaving for a while.

I'll be back sooner or later but I don't know when, I would like to apologize to those who were expecting a new chapter of my series or anything else.

I actually thought about deleting everything but this would make me even sadder because it took me a long time to write what I wrote, even if it sucks. And then I don’t want to let you down when you’re making an effort to write something for my challenge.

Thanks again to those who participated, you're not many but you're very nice and I know you'll write beautiful things. (Please don’t forget to tag me in your work so I won’t miss it!)

I’ll definitely be here to reblog every single work.

I'm sorry. I’m really truly fucking sorry.

If you still want to talk you can find me on Discord, it’s in my bio up here.

Please don't be offended if it takes me a while to reply, someone block me right away this morning before I could say anything else and I was honestly appalled. I was just washing my hair and then I would answer. I don't know, maybe I'm the one who's wrong.

Anyway, see you soon.

Love you all.

[entertext]

HGSN 34-3

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the Japanese chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

P1

Tanaka: Hah! Very good

Tanaka: Right now, thanks to the hole, this house isn't much of a place where people can live. That's why the owner left. It wasn't that you weren't needed anymore.

??: Mama will come back? Why?

Asako: It just can't believe that...

Asako: That's the feeling I get...but it isn't mad

P2

Asako: (A ton of animal bones...)

Tanaka: These were buried in the backyard. All of it is the remains of the offerings that the owner made to you. That's how much you were cared for.

??: ....

P3

??: Mama

??: Mama

??: Mama will come back? Miss her... But what should I do...?

??: Mama

??: Mama

Asako: ...

Asako: It's unsure...

Tanaka: Alright. How's one more push?

Tanaka: As an upfront payment, I'll give you my left arm. If you close the hole...let's see, you can take this girl's ears as well. How about it?

Asako: Huh!?

Hamster: *squeaks*

P4

Tanaka: What is it saying?

Asako: It says it's okay with closing the hole then...

Tanaka: Well then, we have a deal

P5

(sfx: crackle crunch)

(sfx: crackle crunch)

(sfx: slump)

Asako: Ah! Your arm really...!

Tanaka: Getting away with just this little is actually a huge success. Thanks for the help

P6

Asako: (The thing being worshipped here...was the impurity of a child...? After "Mama" left, it was all alone...)

??: I'll kill Mama

Asako: Eeek!

Tanaka: Don't look

P7

Tanaka: Well then, please get to work

(sfx: disappears)

Tanaka: ...It's not anything so nice. It's just something the owner brought back from who knows where and raised up to this point

Tanaka: Luckily, although it was huge, it wasn't a quick thinker

P8

Asako: ...which means that promising your brain and my ear and stuff were all...lies?

Tanaka: 'cause if it closed the hole, it couldn't come out again, now could it?

Asako: *sighs* Seriously?

Asako: But that's good. Now the hole will...

Tanaka: ...No

P9

Tanaka: When the hole is about to be closed...

(sfx: slide)

Tanaka: It'll start fighting back

P10

(sfx: drip)

Yoshiki: (The connection 'Hikaru' was talking about...)

(Rie: You'll get mixed up)

Yoshiki: ...

P11

Yoshiki: (Even if he said we're connected)

Yoshiki: (I don't feel anything...)

(sfx: vibrates)

Yoshiki: ...!

Yoshiki: 'Hikaru'?

(sfx: static noise)

P12

Hikaru: *static noise* ...gonna...close...now *static noise* probably...fight back...so

Tanaka: Here it comes

P13-14

(sfx: ka-tching)

??: *screams*

==

Extra: (link)

[lunarxcity]

Teabags and Tomfoolery

-Azriel x DayCourt!Reader (Reader is Helion's second but has to stay in the Night court for work but her and Azriel didn't get off on the right foot)

-This is a continuation of High Lords and High Jinks, but it can be read as a standalone

-When random gifts begin appearing in the house, you begin to question how much of it is the house's doing or if there's something(or someone) else here at play.

—

The shadowsinger drops to a knee and goes, “You’re right. I haven’t been very cooperative or courteous. You’re a guest of Rhys, and as a member of his inner circle, I haven’t been very welcoming. So, let’s start again. My name is Azriel. Here is the book that you require for your research. If that's all you're here for, it would be my honor to give you a proper tour of Velaris and formally welcome you to the night court.”

After physically and verbally sparring for at least an hour over a cauldrons-damned book, why is he suddenly being nice to me? Not even nice, a complete and total gentleman. The honey dripping from his tongue is a stark contrast to the poison that was there a mere moments ago. Was the change in his behaviour due to the same thing that caused fear to dance in his eyes for a second? Maybe Rhysand had overheard about our fighting from the librarians and metally scolded Azriel into being a perfect host. Whatever it was, the sudden shift in his demeanor was very off-putting and frankly, I don't want to force him to be my tour guide because Rhys is making him.

So I simply respond with, "It's alright Azriel, the satisfaction of getting the book is all the welcome I need. I assume your turn in behaviour is a result of Rhys' intervention?" Wide-eyed, he immediately rushed to respond, tripping over his words in an ungraceful manner that seemed so uncharacteristic of the cool and collected shadowsinger I had heard so much of, "No- I would- I mean-"

We heard long sauntering footsteps approaching behind us, "What he means is we are so lucky to have such a high ranking member of Day in our court and are so glad to hear about you staying here to complete your research." Rhys said with a feline smile and a mischievious glint in his eyes after appearing from cauldron knows where. Staying in the Night Court? I was led to believe this was to be a trip lasting only a few days. Good thing Helion and another Illyrian warrior, this one with red syphons, trailed right behind Rhys. I looked over to Helion, confusion written out on my features. He simply responded with, "There's a strange sickness spreading about our courts and while it is mild, there have been cases where it's messed with individual's magic. We don't know much about it, but firedrake lilies were known for their medicinal properties. Rhys' library has the only texts on this plant, so I'll need you to stay until we can figure out what's wrong or get a handle on the situation."

I have never been seperated from Helion or Day for that matter, for anything longer than a trip for business. As the high lord Helion can't leave his subjects and as his second it makes the most sense for me to go. The situation makes sense and it is my duty to ensure the safety of the day court citizens. But still, something definitely feels off here because why does the other Illyrian warrior look as though he's about to burst out in laughter or tears? Is everyone in this court just weird and nonformal? What am I getting myself in to?

I lock eyes with the unnamed Illyrian and a look of realization passes over his face and he immediately perks up and rushes to bring me into a bone-crushing hug. "HI, ITS SO NICE TO MEET YOU. I'M CASSIAN. WAS AZRIEL INVITING YOU TO OUR FAMILY DINNER YOU NEED TO MEET EVERYONE-" He says all of this while squeezing me so tight that I struggle to find my breath. He immediately pulls away and grasps my hands. He looks me in the eyes and I start to notice that he's starting to tear up? What is going on with everyone in this court, is anyone here normal? "If there is anything you need. Literally anything just let us know. We have been waiting so long to meet you, sometimes it felt like you would never show up-"

Rhys grabs him by the back of the collar, like a dog that was about to recieve a scolding. "I would also like to extend my apologies. Cassian get's very excited when we have visitors." He also leaned down and whispered to me, "He also might have had a bit too much wine before this." Cassian immediately protests, "I DID NOT. ALL I HAD WAS-" a shadow covers his mouth, silencing him and sparing our ears of anymore yelling.

I looked back to Azriel and he was just standing there and staring off into the distance. He seems really rattled I wonder what Rhys had said to him that shook him that deep. I'm dragged out of my thoughts by the stay tendril of shadow from earlier, it started circling around my wrist, like a bracelet. I look at him and hold up my hand revealing the shadow, "Are you need this back?" He snaps out of his daze and non-chalantly responds, "No it's alright. You can keep it, think of it as a pet if you would like. Besides, it appears he listens to you more than me anyways."

He walks past me, brushing past my side, causing a feeling of electricity to go up and down my spine. How odd. He immediately goes to Cassian who was wiping the tears from his eyes and arguing with Rhys. Grabbing Cassian by the arm, he turns to me and gives me a nod, "I look forward to working with you." He says with a nod and as Cassian begins to open his mouth to say something, winnows away.

I turn back to Rhys and Helion. Rhys looks slightly mortified, probably from the behaviour of who I now know to be Azriel and Cassian. Nonetheless he turns to me, "Now with those two gone we can finally sit down and discuss your placement here in my court. I wish I could promise you that they aren't normally like that, but I don't want to begin your stay here on a lie. You and Helion can head upstairs and settle in and we can continue this talk over dinner. Again we are grateful for your presence here in night and look forward to working with you. "

Helion and I give our thanks and begin to head upstairs. As we're walking we hear a female voice ask Rhys, "So how did it go? I'm very interested to hear how Azriel and Cassian ended up in the sparring ring." You hear just hear him exhale and continue to make your way up the stairs.

-

The first week in the night court was interesting to say the least. Rhys had introduced me to his entire inner circle. Cassian and Azriel I had already met, but I had the pleasure of meeting the rest over family dinner.

Mor, who I have met in passing over the years, greeted me with a long hug in a smile that felt way more intimate than we have ever been. The high lady and her sisters were also very sweet and also very curious about me. Nesta was borderline interviewing me, asking question after question with an icy look that melted the second we started bonding over our favorite author. Cassian tried to include himself in the conversation until he realised the genre of the books we were talking about. Amren and I have actually met before in the Day court, I helped had helped her on a mission a century back and had already gained her respect by challenging her in a fight over a small disagreement.

Azriel didn't speak much during the dinner, but you can tell that he was listening to every word his family was saying. His shadow pulled out my chair when I first sat down right across from him and it seemed as if he was very attuned to my every move. If I looked at something on the other side of the table too long he would ask someone to pass it down for me. When my glass was empty he had a shadow refill it. I assume it's because I am a guest, but level of attentiveness was slightly odd to me, but again he is the spymaster.

Nonetheless dinner went smoothly and so did the following days and I settled into the Night court. I started to explore Velaris, going shopping with Mor, a bookstore crawl with Nesta, and even having Feyre try to teach me to paint. All in all I began to enjoy everyone's presence and feel a part of the court.

-

The one thing that I haven't been able to fully get used to though, is the house of wind. Well specifically, the whole sentience thing. Rhys said that the house will give you whatever you need, but there have been strange things happening that makes me wonder how powerful the house's magic really is.

Like after I went on my bookstore crawl with Nesta, there was this box set of a series I already read that I had been eyeing but decided against since I didn't want to go overboard. I don't want to crowd my room right away when I don't know how long I am going to be staying for. But when I got to my room, the entire series had been sitting on my shelf. I asked Nesta about it and she seemed just as suprised as I was.

Then when I went shopping with Mor we were running late and ended up having to rush back to the house for dinner, so I didn't get to try this bakery that I had been eyeing. The next morning I woke up and there was a box filled with every single one of their pastries in the kitchen.

And it wasn't just that. Night is so much colder than Day, I was freezing the first few nights here. I went to the bathroom on my second night and came back to a dark blue thick, fluffy blanket on my bed. I had a headache while I was out? I come back to vial of pain reliever on my desk. I get a papercut while reading my book in the library? A band-aid appears on my desk.

My understanding is that the house will supply food and whatever you need when you want it, but I have no idea how these things are getting there.

I talked to Rhys and Cassian, and they both said that's not how the house's magic works, and it has to be someone acquiring these things and not the house. So I have a plan to catch the house in action, to prove that I am not making this up.

I like being here, but I do miss my court and one thing I would do every night in Day is have a cup of tea with Helion. While they do have tea in the Night court, it's not the same as the one's we have in day. The Night court's woody earthy blends are a lot deeper than the light floral teas of Day. I waited until the next family dinner until I brought it up, "Rhys, by any chance, are there any shops in Velaris that import tea from Day? I do like the tea here, but they can be a bit strong for my tastes." Rhys takes a break from his plate to respond, "I'm sorry, but there's none that I know of ." You smile at him and say," It's alright I can just ask Helion to bring some on his next visit but thanks."

The spymaster didn't look up from his plate, but I could tell he was listening to this entire conversation. I'm weirdly aware of most things Azriel does, his presence seeming to demand all my attention and any movement he makes goes unnoticed by me. You look over at him and you can tell he is having a mental conversation with Rhys, what they're saying no one knows. By the end of dinner Rhys looks slightly annoyed and gives him a nod and as the plates are being cleared Azriel begins to put on his coat and prepare to head out.

He forgot his gloves on the table so I grab them and bring them to him. I rush to catch him at the door before he leaves and hold out the gloves to him. "You aren't staying for dessert? I helped Elain make a trifle. It has chocolate." I looked at him with hopeful eyes, I noticed the shadowsinger has a sweet tooth, especially for chocolate, when I saw him sneaking bites of dessert when he thinks no one is looking. Most of the times whether it's a cookie, a brownie, or a bite of cake there will usually be a bit of chocolate in it. Who knew that the spymaster's secrets would include his love of desserts.

I don't know why his immediate departure is bothering me, I've barely spoken to him. We didn't get off on the right foot, he was almost outright rude letting his competitiveness outweigh any courtly manners, he rarely spoke in comparison to Cassian who frankly can never stop talking, and he has been almost avoided me since I've gotten here. So why is it that I don't want him to go so soon?

"It's okay. I don't really like desserts. Also I have a mission to attend to I really have to be going." He responds, his face almost emotionless, the mask of the spymaster up. His eyes betray him though, they seem distant as though he is thinking of something else entirely. "Are you going to be back soon? I can save you some before Cassian eats all of it." You try to keep the conversation lighthearted, even if shutting you down. "My mission could be long. Don't wait up." He takes his gloves from my hands and turns and begins to leave.

"Did I do something?" I blurt. He stills. Why did I say that? He's going to hate me more than he already does. Well if I'm already pushing I might as well keep going. He turns back, he genuinely looks suprised, the first emotion I've been able to get out of him all night. "And why would you think that?" You walk closer to him and look up to meet his gaze, "I know that we didn't get off on the best foot. I'm sorry if I offended you by fighting you over the book, my competitiveness gets the better of me sometimes. I don't know what I did, but I really do want to be friends and get to know you Azriel." He puts his hand on my shoulder and I heat up and begin rambling, "Know you and the rest of the inner circle of course! Uh it's just that I've spoken to everyone else and-"

Thank the mother he cuts me off. "You haven't done anything I just have had a lot on my plate. I understand succumbing to competitiveness as you saw me do the same. My coldness has nothing to do with you and I understand that I may have not helped with your adjustment to Night and for that I apologise. Once I return from my mission we can spend some time with each other and get to properly know one another."

He gives me a small smile and my heart nearly bursts in my chest. In that moment I could think of nothing else more beautiful than that smile. He leaves me dumbfounded in the entryway, I didn't even notice when Elain came up behind me and tapped my shoulder. I jumped. "We're having dessert now." She tells me with a soft smile, I follow her back to the kitchen to grab the trifle and she says something that suprises me, "Be patient with him. He will eventually open up, don't give up on him just yet."

-

Dinner almost distracted me from my real mission. There is no way the house or whoever had been leaving me the little presents could scour up Day court tea in such a pinch. It's production and importation are highly regulated since it's all grown and made in the Day court itself. There isn't a high production to begin with and Helion doesn't want other courts to have it, since it would cause a shortage in Day. It's the one selfish political decision that I allowed him to make, because let's face it I didn't want a shortage of my tea either.

We ate our dessert and lounged around the fire and talked. I kept a close eye on everyone and the house and everything seemed to be completely normal. The later it became, the more the amount of people dwindled until it was just me and Nesta. We were talking about our books when Cassian woke up from his nap on the couch and insisted that they go to bed. She said goodnight and, on her way out, accidentally tipped over the empty bottle of wine on the countertop. It fell to the floor and shattered, covering the dining room floor with glass. "I'm so-" She begins to apologise and I cut her off, "It's fine let me clean it up you guys go to bed." She nods, "Thank you." As she walks away I swear I see her give Cassian a mischievous look. Why is everyone in this family is always up to something?

I'm on the floor cleaning up the glass when the front door suddenly opens. Azriel must be back. I'm still on the floor on the other side of the dining table to where he is, I don't think he's noticed me yet. He sighs and stretches out his wings, he must have been flying for a while since he's been gone for several hours. He takes off his satchel from his shoulder and begins to empty his contents onto the dining room table. He must have been tired to not notice me, still crouching on the floor. I thought it would have been some kind of weaponry or packet of classified information that would be in his satchel, but no, it was 3 small boxes, one purple, one yellow, and one red.

I try to look up to see what they were, but my tiredness must have impaired my coordination causing me to hit my head on the table "Ow." He immediately looks over to me, looking like a child caught sneaking a cookie. I get up and look at him, he looks very amused "Why are you hiding under the table?"

"I was cleaning up a broken wine bottle." I look down expecting to see broken glass, but instead find nothing but a spotless floor. He lightly laughs and says, "You know do know the house will clean it up. I don't know why it didn't just do that to begin with." I will spend the rest of my life cleaning up broken glass if it means I could make Azriel laugh like that again. I don't know what's wrong with me; I must have reached a delirious level of sleepiness to even be thinking this way.

I look at the 3 boxes and now that I can actually see them, I immediately recognise the Day court insignia on the box. "This was your mission? To get me my tea? Please tell me Rhys didn't send you all the way to Day." I look up at him, confused and worried that I had accidentally caused him to go on this treacherous journey for something as miniscule as tea.

"It was more of a self-proclaimed mission. If it makes you feel better I could tell you that it wasn't about you and that maybe I want to try this Day court tea and see what makes it so special?" He says while going to the kitchen and grabbing two mugs. He said it so casually, like he didn't just go to a whole other court and scour for hours to get me the tea I preferred when he wasn't even the one I told this to in the first place. While he was on his way to do something nice for me, I accused him of being cold and rude, guilt immediately seeps into my gut.

How would I ever repay him? I had an idea of how to start. I went into the kitchen and started searching through the vegetable drawer and excavated some of the trifle. While he's pouring boiling water into the mugs, he looks up. " I know you said you didn't want any, but I didn't expect Cassian to leave any leftovers so I saved some in the one place he wouldn't look. You know just incase." Azriel just looks surprised, and then his gaze warms up and he looks genuinely touched at the gesture. His mouth turns up at the corners and he softly says, "Thank you. I appreciate this a lot. It's a bit late for me to properly enjoy, but I will definitely have some tomorrow." He points to the boxes of tea, "Now which one would you reccomend?"

I walk over right next to him and hand him the purple box. He opens it and takes two tea bags and puts them into the hot water. He gets out a mini tray and takes out a box from the cabinet and fills it with cookies. I notice that the logo on the box is the same as my bakery and everything starts to click in place. Suddenly I look to my wrist and notice that my little shadow bracelet is darting behind Azriel in fear. Busted.

He's putting the box away, when I look to him arms crossed and ask him. "Have you been spying on me?" He just turns and curtly says, "I spy on everyone in the family." Has it really been him the entire time? "The books, the blanket, the pastries. It was all you." He doesn't even try to look defensive as he hands me my mug and carries his own and the cookies over to the couch. "Yes it was." That's it? No information as to why or anything.

He sits on the couch, and I follow after him, he takes a bite of a chocolate cookie from the tray and sips his tea after. "Why?" I ask genuinely curious as to why he would go through such lengths, all while ignoring me. "For the same reason you saved me the trifle." He answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Touché." I say as I take a cookie from the tray. I take a sip of my tea and it tastes like home, it's everything that I wanted. The fire in the fireplace is beginning to die out, but we start talking anyways. He tells me his scars and his rough childhood, about his relationship with Rhys and Cassian and how he considers them to be his brothers not friends, he tells me about his role as spymaster and all that he has seen. In turn I tell him how Helion took me in after my parents died in the war fighting for Day, how I basically help run Day and how I miss it and am worried about it running smoothly in my absence, and feeling as if I don't have a life outside of my work. He tells me how he shares the feeling of loneliness, when everyone around you is so happy and redirects the conversation to something happier by telling me about how he holds the winning record in their yearly solstice snowball fight.

As night began to bleed into day and the fire was nothing more than ash and embers, my eyes started to flicker shut. He was in the middle of recounting how one year he had won by turning Cassian and Rhys against one another, until he was the last one standing and I could barely keep my eyes open. He just kept talking in his calm and steady voice, almost lulling me to sleep and I felt the shadow from my wrist leave. It came back almost a moment later with my new blanket. I was in a losing battle against sleep, trying to pay attention but I was already lying down covered in the warm heavy blanket. I couldn't even tell if I was awake or not and I didn't hear Azriel speaking anymore. All I know is I felt myself being picked up by strong arms and carried off. The last thing I remember is feeling a warm hand tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear and and hearing a comforting heartbeat, as I finally drifted off into the depths of sleep.

[ghouljams]

I really appreciate you reblogging that post about how difficult it is to quit an addiction. I myself am currently struggling with a sugar/caffeine addiction, and I drink way too much coke cola (and if I can't get my hands on some, energy drinks). It's nice to be reminded that it's not just me who is constantly thinking about how good it would feel to have juuust a little more, even if I said I would stop. I've tried to quit it multiple times, and each failed attempt disheartens me greatly and makes me feel weak willed, even if I rationally know everyone battling an addiction has those moments.

Sugar addictions often aren't treated as seriously as the "scary" drugs or smoking, but it's just as damaging to your health and difficult to quit, especially when the human brain is hardwired to want sugary, fatty foods. I hope one day to be strong enough to resist those cravings and get my health back on track.

You can become addicted to anything that makes you feel good. People are getting addicted to AI chat bots for god's sake, it doesn't even have to be quality stuff as long as it gives you that rush of dopamine it can reel you in. Now, some things are better designed to addict you, drugs and alcohol, sugar and caffeine, but that doesn't mean you aren't still getting that good feeling. Even if you don't get it every time, even if you only get that hit the first time, humans will chase that first high for the rest of their lives. It's the reason people stay in abusive relationships, things will never be as good as they were at the start but there's this silent promise that they might be.

Anyone can become addicted to anything. And I'm not saying that to scare anyone, but more to make the point that no one is above addiction. Addiction is not a moral failing, or a weakness, it's a human survival tactic. We want the thing that makes us feel good, that keeps the loneliness at bay, that stops us from feeling bad things even if they do that by keeping us from feeling anything at all. Our brains want that dopamine shot, even when reasonably we know whatever is giving us that shot is bad for us.

Getting past an addiction is hard no matter what that addiction is. I try to tell people that they need to find something to redirect that craving towards. For one of my loved ones we're working on finding a painting class and a book club because they've realized that a lot of their relapsing comes from feeling lonely. For you, maybe having a chew fidget would help, or keeping fruit on hand, or (if you're like me) purging your house of all sugary snacks. I can't keep sugar in my house or I'll eat it, so I don't buy it. It sucks, I want it, but I know myself and I know that the best way to keep myself from doing something is to try and remove as much temptation as possible.

It's much harder for me to justify leaving my house to go get candy than it is for me to get up and get a chocolate from the pantry. Or if I really want a sweetie, I have to figure out making it myself. Which means I can try and figure out a healthier option to make. Idk it's a long road, and something like sugar/caffeine/alcohol is so ingrained in our society that it feels impossible to avoid.

I have a friend who used heroin (now clean, I'm so proud of her) and she always said the hardest part of recovery was giving a shit about herself. She said there was always going to be part of her that wanted to use, so she had to make the rest of her louder, had to find reasons to care enough not to go back to her old habits. She got a lot of tattoos during her recovery, reconnected with her mom.

Not to say that addicts don't care about themselves, or that you don't care about yourself, I always thought she meant it more in the way of a parent caring for a child. You know, you don't let kids do something just because they want to because you care about keeping them safe. In the same way you sort of have to parent yourself. Say you've got sugar at home even though you don't, promise you'll make yourself donuts and then quit as soon as you get home because you don't want to boil oil. Learn to make croissants and then never make them again because they're such a fucking hassle. idk

You're not weak because you have trouble telling yourself no, people generally have trouble with that. You're just a person trying to listen to your body. It's just too bad your body isn't always a great judge of what's good for it.

[yuyu1024]

Kitten

Pairings: San x Y/N

Genre/tags: fluff/smut/angst

Warning: mature content 🔞, protected/unprotected sex (wrap it up please), cursing, pet names, fwb

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.5k ish?

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: oopps forgot to post this here. 😅 i posted this on wattpad a month ago

-----------------------------------------------------

🐱: are you busy?

🏔: hmm.

🏔: it depends

🏔: why?

You contemplate on what to answer him. You are not sure why you even texted him in the first place. You are just bored to death at the moment because you are sick and you can't even lift yourself up to bed. And you need your flirty bff to cheer you up a bit.

🐱: (typing...)

🏔: if you miss me. Why don't you just say it?

You roll your eyes away.

🐱: 🙄

🏔: 🤨

🏔: did you just rolled your eyes at me?

🐱: obviouslyyyyyyy

🏔: I will tickle you when we see each other. 😎

🐱: ❌️

🐱: you can't

🏔: make me stop then.

🏔: you know... i know every part of your body that is ticklish

🏔: 😈

🐱: plssss dont

🐱: or I'll break a rib

🏔: since when did you became this weak?🤨

🐱: well... since i got sick?

🐱: so pls.

🐱: no tickling. ❌️

🏔: sick?

🏔: are you really?

You paused.

It's getting pretty late already. If you start telling him the truth about you being sick at the moment, he'll for sure fly over and be the best guy that he is. And even if you want company now, you don't want to bother him or make him worried sick about you. You know he have an early schedule tomorrow for work and he should he sleeping soon.

🐱: nope.

🐱: i'm bored only.

🐱: not sick. 👍🏻

🏔: is that the only reason why you are texting me now?

🐱: whyyyy....?

🐱: dont u like meeeee texting you????

🐱: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

🏔: depends

🏔: do you miss me?

🐱: 🙄🙄🙄🙄

🐱: whatever

🐱: shut up

🐱: i said im bored

🐱: thats all.

🐱: i'll just sleep then.

🐱: 🫡 night night Sannie

🐱: 😘

Then silence. He didn't texted back again. So you assume he took the like you just told him.

However after more than five minutes.

🏔: ok.

🏔: i'm coming.

****

"She's upstairs..." your mom says to San who arrived 45 minutes later. "Did she asked you to buy her food?" She asks while eyeing the paper bag and plastic bag San is carrying while he is removing his shoes. "She hasn't been eating well lately... I'm glad she finally found something she likes... and she have a friend like you who is so kind to buy it for her..."

San stand straight, processing your mother's words. He is a little hurt that you haven't told him you have been sick  for awhile. That you acted you're fine but you're actually not.

"Ahm... are you staying for the night?" She adds

"If...I'm allowed to..."

Your mother smiles. "Of course you are. You are part of family now you know that..."

San smiles and enters, walking along with your mother up to the living room.

"I'll go to bed now... She's feeling a bit better now so I could sleep in peace tonight."

"Don't worry... I'll take care of her while you get good sleep." San says

"Thank you..." she pats San's shoulder. "The medicine I took is actually kicking in now so... I'll be in deep sleep." Then she yawns. "Just make yourself home and make sure she eat..." she begins to walk to the corridor towards the master bedroom downstairs.

"Goodnight Mrs. Y/N."

***

You are not aware that San is already at your house. You are on your bed and sleeping. Well, you didn't intend to fall asleep quick but the ASMR video you have playing on your Ipad got you drowsy and became a lullaby.

San knocks softly at your door before he gently pushes it open. "Kitten...are you awake?" His voice is velvet and yet so soft as a cloud.

You didn't answer of course. All he hears is your breathing and mumbling. You tend to do that when you sleep and dream.

He breathes a smile, happy to see that you look comfy and peaceful. "Oh, kitten." He closes the door and makes his way to the side of the bed where you are facing.

He then places his palm on your forehead, checking if you still have a fever or not.

"Mmm..." you become restless the second you feel his cold hand onto you. "Sannie...?" You slowly blink your eyes open and adjust to the light of your lampshade.

"I'm here now, kitten..." he leans down and kisses the top of your head.

Your lips breaks into a weak but joyful smile. "Are you here to make me feel better?"

He nuzzles his face to yours, "why didn't you tell me you got sick?"

"I didn't want to make you worry..."

"But I am now..." he takes the thick blanket covering you and scoop you up. He makes you get up, sit on his lap, spreading your legs and facing him. "Let me help you feel better..." he whispers low

"But... I feel weak... I don't think I would survive if..." you embrace him, laying your head on his shoulder. "Sannie...if you fuck me tonight... I might break."

He chuckles. "I promise... I'll slow down for you, Kitten."

He then lifts you up and carefully made you lay back down to your bed. You legs hanging on the edge. "Let's prep you first." He says while going down on his knees. "I haven't had this pussy for more than a month now..."

"Oh god." You gasp as you feel him pull down your shorts and panties all at once,revealing you bare and needy.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"N-no...but..."  you grasp on to your bedsheets, preparing for it.

"Then let me just do everything for you..." he leans closer. You can feel his warm breath over your sensitive skin. "This is also... your punishment....for not telling me... that you are sick..." he whispers every word at the end as he push his face more. "Hmmm..." he hums brushing his lips over your pussy and pushing your thighs apart more.

"Fuck." You mumble under your breath

"Keep it down okay. Your mother might here us..."

And after his last reminder to be quiet. You already forgot how to even breathe properly.

"Ughh... s...s...s-annie...." you arch your back, hips moving along his every lick and dip. "Ah! Fuck!"

San fucks you with his tongue giving no care in the world. Your noises is making him to do the most.

"Sannie!" You whine, "please..."

He smiles, pressing his thumb on your sensitive clit. "Yes, kitten?" Then showers you with kisses down there. "Talk to me..."

You try to catch your breathe as you feel something in your stomach tightens. "Please..."

"Please what?" He stands up, hover over you and then watch you beg him to get fucked. "You know... if you want it....say it."

You grab him by his shirt and pull him down to kiss you. He moans at your kiss. He softens at your eagerness to take his lips that were just on your pussy a minute ago. He... he gets hard and aching when suddenly playfully and lightly tug his lower lips with your teeth

"Since when do my kitten learn how to bite? Hmm?" He arches his brow, smirking.

"Since my Choi San... makes me... beg...for him... to... fuck me..." you say in between each kiss to his eyes, nose, cheeks and forehead

He chuckles. "I'm supposed to be punishing you right? And not you making me more needy than you..."

"Oh Mr. Choi San..." you tease him calling him by his full name again. "We both know that you like me so much that you can't really punish me..."

"Are you saying I fold over your sweet words and...sweet pussy?"

"I do." You giggle as you make an effort to make him change position with you. Now you are on top of him and he is in awe watching you straddle him.

"I thought you would break if I fuck you...?"

"Yes... I said that..." you then start to unbuckle his pants and shimmy it down  to his thights, exposing his erected, hard, thick and leaking length. "But I'm the one fucking you... so..." you gently push yourself down, taking him in you, slowly.

"Ugh! Fuck!" His mouth opens in an O as your pussy swallows him whole. "Kitten..."

"Make me feel better..." you breathe, biting your lower lip. "I'll only stop once you come..." then leaning down and sucking a skin on his neck. "I'll stop when you come IN me...to be exact."

San chuckles that his chest vibrates. "Fucking hell..."

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Night of the Weredoll

Oh, my watch. Must be 11.

I can't help but sigh as I look around. It's been so long since I've been able to meet up with people. Everyone's either too busy, or wants to meet too late. Well, I'm not gonna let this curse get the better of me. Not tonight.

...Not for another few minutes, at least.

The next hour is a bit of a blur, but in a fun drunk way. I talk too loud to people I'm cuddling too close too. There's a movie on that everyone is half paying attention to, mostly to make fun of it.

There's a sudden pang in my stomach. By reflex, I reach back out to the veggie tray that's been laid out, but... no. This isn't hunger.

I look down at my watch. It's midnight. God fucking damn it, I set the alarm wrong! No, calm down, I can't let people see. I just need to leave.

I get up and try to avoid attention as I slink away to the door. Shit, shit, it's Andrea. Of course she's hovering right by the door, I can't just-

"Hey Jen, where you going?"

No! Damn it, everyone's looking...! I can't just not respond to her, good dolls are... No, no, not yet, please. "I just, uh... something came up, I gotta go, sorry..."

"Is everything okay?" Her tone instantly softens into sincere concern. "I haven't been drinking, I can drive you somew-"

"No, please!" I try my best not to sound desperate, and it definitely doesn't work. "I just need to leave, it's nothing you guys did, I..."

I can already feel the changes happening to my mind. The gentle tugging of strings, pulling me away from my humanity. It's rather rude to leave with such a commotion, wouldn't it be nice to stay and help them clean?

My posture straightens and my limbs stiffen It's like the strings are pulling me into place. Shit, I must look so scared...

I don't have a choice. I push past her and run to the bathroom across the hall, slamming the door behind me. This one is being much too rude. All I can do is mutter an apology under my breath. This... I can already feel it reaching my chest... good dolls don't curse, good dolls don't curse, good-

It's pulling. My shoulders. I push down on them, hugging myself as I try to keep my body from changing. I feel them shifting, churning, the joints of my bones growing segmented. Lines form on this one's slowly hardening skin, getting deeper by the second, until... pop!

It looks in the mirror, taking a second to just... stare at myself. The transformation is getting harder to hide by the second, especially since good dolls shouldn't be ashamed. The colour is leaving my body, nothing but sickly-pale porcelain almost all the way down to this one's hands.

A knock at the door, making me flinch. Good dolls should be more collected than that, this one needs to calm down. "Jen? Please, if something's bothering you, you can trust us."

This... I know I can. Good dolls... I can't just leave her without a response. "It's nothing you guys did, a... mmn..." I promise. That's all this one need to say. But it just gets caught in this one's throat. Dolls aren't supposed to say that word. "Just... please, leave... d-doesn't want to let... it..." No, this one needs to lie, she can't know, none of them can know.

Why is it happening so fast? This one needs to serve the others, it should be turning faster for them. No, no, this one should be a guest, it can't humiliate itself by... providing refreshments, and collecting empty drinks, and doing as it's told.

The emptiness is so strong. It feels like a black hole, trying to swallow this one's humanity. No matter how much it struggles, it... really shouldn't struggle. It's quite undignified. It's so close, there's so little left inside...

Slowly, cautiously, the doorknob turns. This one stands at attention, ready to... no, please, this one can't resist much longer. Something, anything. Yell at her, push the door closed on her, jump out the window. Anything other than... than...

"This one apologizes for its outburst." This one does its best to curtsy, trying to pull its jeans outwards at the hips. A regretfully unbecoming outfit. "How may this one be of service to you, miss?"

Andrea's eyes widen, and she begins to back away. "Wh... Jen, what... no, no, you're not... no, please..."

"This one is dreadfully sorry that it didn't explain things earlier. It was-"

The door slams in front of this one, and it hears the sounds of Andrea tripping over herself to escape back to the others.

She's scared of this one. It understands this. But... it should still do its best to serve her, shouldn't it? It's a doll, after all. Maybe it can explain itself, or help them calm down in some other way. This one hopes it can make itself useful to everyone.

With a gentle and put-together march, it begins to return to the people, following its purpose. This one knows that it would find all this mortifying as a human. For some reason, that part of it was always so resistant to the idea of submitting to her peers. Now, that resistance seems foolish. This one is a doll, obedient and docile. Of course it should make itself useful, it would be silly to think otherwise.

It dutifully opens the door, to be met with the stares of every person present. They seem as if a wild animal has wandered into the room, eager to pounce on the first to show weakness.

Mitch is the first to speak, before this one can even properly introduce itself, clutching a mostly-full bottle close to his chest. "Don't come any closer. You're not converting anyone here, alright?"

This one shakes its head. "This one wouldn't dream of doing such a thing without consent. It-"

Frantic whispers overtake the crowd. "So she can do it! It's not just a rumour!" "What do we do, she's already in here!" "Can we just tell it to leave?"

With a quick motion, Mitchel fixes his grip, holding the bottle by its neck. Just as one would hold a knife. He held it at an angle, causing some of the liquor to spill onto the hardwood floor. A messy accident, but one easily solved. "Please, allow this one to-"

"No! No." Mitchel calls out, brandishing the bottle. He speaks firmly, with a clear undercurrent of fear. "Just... get out. I'm not afraid to hurt you."

Andrea, still timidly hiding behind him, seems offended. "Mitch, that's still her!" She tries to sound insisting despite her whisper. Timidly, she grabs onto his shoulder as she peeks around him, trying to force a soothing voice. She still sounds terrified.

"Jen, you're... still in there somewhere, right? You're not just... some thing, right?"

This one hesitates from answering for longer than a doll should. It has never considered the question before. It blinks, taking just as long as necessary to articulate a response.

Its hands are politely clasped at its front. It speaks calmly and pointedly. "Dolls don't have an identity in the same manner that humans do. This one has Jennifer's memories, as well as some opinions and inclinations." It takes a moment to nod, intending to continue.

"Okay!" Andrea quickly blurted. "Okay, see? We can't hurt her, it's still... her in there." She looks to the others, to see if they're convinced.

Mitch looks incredulous, taking his eyes off of this one for only a second to look to Andrea. "What? No, we can't trusts that thing, it..." He trails off as he looks to this one. His eyes dart to the other guests, trying to gauge their feelings. All the while, he never stops facing this one.

"You seem to be uncomfortable with this one's presence." It explains in a matter-of-fact monotone. "Would you be more comfortable if it left?"

A heavy silence falls over the room. Nobody wants to speak first. "Yeah, let's..." Mitch blinks, hard, trying to swallow his thoughts. "You should leave."

"Understood." This one tries to curtsy again. "This one is deeply sorry for causing a disturbance. It hopes you can forgive it."

Without delay, this one obediently turns back to the door, closing it gently behind it.

There's a biting chill to the air as it walks through the night. Something a person would find intolerable. Jen would lament not being able to carpool back to her apartment, but the doll doesn't mind. It was just happy to do as was asked of it.

[all-for-the-game-confessions]

idk if it's mean to say and I don't mean it meanly at all. I think there's a weird culture of trauma dumping in this fandom though.

especially when any kind of discourse comes up, ppl seem to feel the need to 'prove' they can talk on a topic/have more authority than others on a topic by telling stories about how they've been through things the discourse is related to.

like when there was discourse around kevin/jean/riko and the cult thing or whatever. and there were ppl giving their opinions, but also a bunch of ppl chiming in to tell traumatic stories about them being in a cult. and it's not that I don't want ppl to speak about their experiences, but rather, I just think it's crazy that some ppl seen to think its relatively normal to jump into a conversation about fictional ppl with real stories about very triggering subjects with no warning whatsoever.

they also often assume by default that anyone who won't speak openly about going through traumatic shit hasn't been through it. which I don't think is good or fair.

I'm not trying to single ppl out either. it's not all the people who were in a cult or only them, its just the first example I could think of. it happens with basically everything though! from rape to homophobia to being abused by your parents, and so on.

I think the bigger problem which I briefly touched on is that it often comes with the assumption that those who don't speak openly about experiencing these things are assumed to not have experienced them. and ppl who do speak openly about it, will often explicitly make those assumptions.

bringing it back to the cult thing cuz it's the example I started with - I remember somebody would make a post (with admittedly a bad take), and then somebody would respond with their take + the fact that they'd been in a cult & add on a bit at the end being like "you wouldn't write a take like this [the original bad take] if you knew what it was like to be in a cult". and while I understand the frustration of ppl saying stupid or offensive or ignorant stuff, it's also stupid, offensive, and ignorant to make the automatic assumption that because someone's take/opinion on a tough subject differs from yours then that means they haven't been through similar experiences to you. because many ppl can experience the same thing and come out with differing opinions.

I just think it sets a bad precedent. it's also often completely unfair to the person they're saying this stuff to, even if they hadn't experienced that stuff themselves. because it also now means that the person hearing the trauma dumping has to respond with perfect civility, be perfectly calm and understanding, or else they'll be seen as not taking the person's experiences seriously. and while I obviously think you should handle somebody telling you their bad experiences with kindness, understanding, etc, this expectation is a little unfair sometimes because it often expects the listener to be perfectly nice, while the person doing the trauma dumping gets away with not being civil back. like they can throw stuff like "fuck you, you stupid bitch" or whatever into their post, essentially freely insult the other person, but the person hearing it can't do anything similar back without looking like The Asshole.

even if u are perfectly calm & understanding anyway, you can still look like The Bad Person if u continue to even respectfully disagree, becuz the trauma dumping person can just say something like "I experienced x and told you My Opinion and you still disagree 😡". and unless you want to openly admit you've also experienced x, you can't rlly defend urself.

all this to say. I don't think it's good to have this attitude of only being able to speak on things or having authority over others to speak on things if you've experienced said things. becuz on a platform like this, the only way to know if somebody has had those experiences is if they tell you. so it sets this expectation to talk about it. and I think it's normal not to want to talk about the bad shit you've been through with strangers on the Internet for brownie points. additionally. everybody's been through shit. it might not be the same shit as you, but it's important to remember that. we should all be trying to not make bold assumptions about people we don't know just because they think differently to us.

.

[bitegore]

:D

I really like all of this, especially how much of a focus it sounds like you have on replayability!! What with so many endings and so much that can be discovered on reruns. However, it all feels really trapped as a game itself? Which I love. It allows players to learn just about everything there is about the murders (which I think the scenarios mechanic is esp good at reinforcing this), but that's most of what a player can ever get from the sounds of it. Try as they might, play over and over again and again, the satisfaction of uncovering everything about Erica and Haven will be just out of reach. And that adds to the helplessness!! In a way, it feels like a reminder that this is a game contained to a plot, but the antagonists are so much further beyond it. They're so much more than the plot, and therefore, they're so much more than both the player and their experience.

i really like how you put this! Which is funny, though, because I do intend to have, like, an extra-secret-you're-not-really-supposed-to-do-that bonus "win condition" if, specifically, you kill Haven/tutorial guy and then kill Erica (because after doing that, the game will continue on as normal for three game 'days' and then people will be like hey what happened to that guy whose farm you bought. where'd he go. and then erica will come Get you.

But I can't decide if that should mean everything continues as normal infinitely (which would mean I run out of material) or like, if then you should get a different system-shock - that without Erica and Haven pulling strings, this situation is hideously untenable, because the bad-guy you're supposed to be playing economic wargames against is getting all of his money from investing abroad, and you are running a farm.

Also maybe when i run out of material I'll j;ust write "in the future..." style endings for every main romance and call it quits there, LOL. Like i do want it to be rewarding at that point theoretically, even if the point is to pull the rug out from under the player LOL

Oh!!! And it's a really nice touch to have the route where you help Erica murder and the one where you don't both have the same ending of getting framed. Considering how many tries it would probably take a player to get the 'murder with Erica' route, and that they would probably get the other framed ending in that time, it would feel like a horrific punch in the gut to do everything right, go back to the farm, and then proceed to get a very familiar not-quite-cutscene!! Absolutely miserable sounding to play, very smart.

YESSSSSS... yessssssss you get it :D I even have a bit in my notes for like, prelim/planning dialogue that deals with this, too, because it's the only thing that changes if you take the accomplice run (w/ placeholder pronouns):

ERICA: Let's leave them alive. THE REDHEADED MAN: Oh, really? ERICA: Yeah. ERICA: Who's going to believe them if they about us? THE REDHEADED MAN: Ha! True. ERICA: And when they come to find out why everyone's dead... if you fought her: ERICA: ...well, it's not like they were any help. if you were an accomplice: ERICA: ...hell, they killed half of them off themself!

No concern or anything. She just didn't kill you and keeps not killing you, that's the best you're getting. Evil foxgirl </3 she doesn't love you after all </3

What is just as much of a punch, but less miserable, is how Erica's ranged attack for a stalling player and Haven's complimentary dialogue are basically the same thing? At least that's how I view them. Both would horrifically catch a player off guard, and they feel almost as if they're taunting the player for not paying sufficient attention?

Absolutely. I want especially Haven's lines to all be kind of like... something that makes you raise your eyebrows, every time he says anything. Like of the game, I want the tone - at least until mid-game - to be... maybe not, like, saccharine but like edging into that like "cozy fantasy" space where people are nice and even when they don't like you they're not, like, mean about it?

And then the first thing Haven says when he's not like briskly explaining what a plant is is, like... you're chatting up the baker's wife (who is cheating on her husband with you in her romance because i think it's fun that way) and he's like. [looks up from where he's standing by the wall] "Her husband definitely knows she's fucking around behind his back, but he still gets mad every time he hears about it? What a loser. He should just watch and jerk off like the rest of us" or something like. Abruptly weirdly crass for a guy who isn't allegedly one of the Crass Asshole NPCs, genuinely judgemental and mean, and like... just visibly operating on a slightly different logic that is not so nice as everyone else is.

And Erica kicking rocks at you is just me punishing cowardice rather than not paying attention. But it IS because she loves needling people, you're right, it is some needling-type behavior. The kind of combat system I want to do, though, if you go AFK around Erica she just kills you. Not turnbased. You can't hold still without having her Get you.

but as for the dialogue, it makes me imagine that the easiest way to stumble upon it would be afk-ing around Erica- as she sounds unlikable enough that I have a hard time imagining someone wanting to spend enough time with her to get that line/lines (at least not on a first run).

I'm assuming this is about the like, murder route dialogue? In which case - I do actually have a lot of thoughts about the reasons why you'd want to talk to specifically either Erica or her brother, given they're supposed to be your enemies. Both of them give you "trade secrets", which are like mechanically important for the farming part, and the more friendly you are with them, the more they're going to give you - but the brother is more loyal to his family, so he has to be at a certain level of "liking you", whereas Erica will tell you all sorts of things even if you barely know her. Also all of this is late-game dialogue - which is after she's dropped her nice-person act and is during, like, cutscenes with story importance. Before that, she's... well, I wouldn't say she's that interesting, but she ideally would have some charm points and come off nice, which is why peppering some of that stuff in would (I think) be less odd than it might sound in description alone.

As a side note, do you have any place or tag to find out more about your characters? I see your art of them frequently and really enjoy it, and this has only piqued my curiosity more. :]

I'm working on being a little less precious about my lore! I wrote up a post here (it's a lore primer i originally wrote for my subscribestar) that covers the basics and the "plot" these two and one other, later character who is also involved in, actually have going on - but at the moment most of it is on my subscribestar. which costs money. like i will absolutely link it still but it costs money. I guess i've also tagged a bunch of posts with them and tag commentary, but that's not a great way to actually Get It so much as to get, like, a baffling baffling baffling picture of some bizarre as hell characters.

one day i'll finish writing a single story with these people and then i'll be able to share stuff for realsies :3

Stardew Valley-inspired Erica animation, drawn sometime in January while I was sick as a dog. This took ages, and all because I wanted to animate the bloodstains moving properly. The framerate isn't even quite right lol.