#still had to work on commissions and cook for everyone

[missempanada]

How to help the people in Spain

As you may have seen online, Spain is going through a flash flood since October 29. It's mainly affected the Community of Valencia but also some parts of the south-west and the cold drop is now moving to the north-east.

95 bodies have been found at the time I'm writing this (edit: 205 now), there's still people missing and entire towns are isolated as they don't have electricity and their roads have been destroyed. A lot of people don't have tap water or any means to cook. If you're wondering why people didn't evacuate beforehand, it's because authorities didn't care enough to warn people so technically everyone had to go to work and school. Though politicians should be held accountable, the most important thing at the moment is to help those in need. So here's some ways you can help both people and animals that have been affected.

NGOs and fundraisers

MOST NEEDED AT THE MOMENT: You can donate to Valencia's food bank by making a transfer to this bank account: ES86 2100 2806 6402 0009 8998.

Horta Sud is a county in Valencia that has been the most affected by the floodings. People are leaving their houses because they're scared of the infrastructure getting damaged and even walking by foot to Valencia capital to get food. You can help those families via this gofundme.

Hambre Cero is a Spanish non-profit that was founded after the earthquakes in Indonesia. They will be giving food to those who need it. Here's different ways you can donate.

This gofundme is joining efforts with the town hall of Valencia to help people who have lost their homes.

Una copa por Valencia ("a drink to Valencia") is a campaign organized by Spanish influencer David Aliagas. The idea behind it is to donate the amount of money you would spend on drinks on a night out. He'll be joining effort with local non-profits. You can help here.

Here's a thread of artists that are accepting commissions in exchange for donations for Valencia.

Spanish Kpop fans are organizing a collective fundraiser.

EDIT: took Cáritas and Spanish Red Cross out of this post after this tiktok made by a volunteer went viral and a lot of people posted their experiences working for these NGOs. Apparently they're not distributing food. Instead they're telling people not to send more food and send money instead so they can keep part of it.

Help people directly

Help Sara, Steven and Bruno rebuild their home in Valencia.

Help this high school teacher buy a new car to get back to work.

Raúl was about to open his barbershop on October 31 but it was destroyed by the flood. Please help him get his dream back.

Help the neighbours of Aldaia (Valencia) rebuild their homes.

This artist has been affected by the floods and lost their car. They've opened emergency commissions.

You can help rebuild the town of Letur (Albacete) by donating to this gofundme that's directly coordinated with the town hall.

Rebeca is a seamstress. Her studio was both her workplace and a place were came together for a sewing club in the afternoons. It was destroyed by the flood. You can help her rebuild it here

Animal shelters

Refugio Minipow was home to 50 rabbits and guinea pigs. Thankfully, the owners were able to move all the animals to their homes and those of their neighbors, though the shelter itself has been destroyed right after recent renovations. There's different ways to donate here.

El Refugio de María a dog shelter in Sueca (Valencia), is completely flooded, leaving the dogs visibly distressed, as shown here. You can donate to PayPal maria.g.may@gmail.com

Modepran is a dog shelter in Campanar (Valencia) where infrastructure damage has left some dogs without a proper sleeping area. You can donate through PayPal here.

Gatos Campo de Gibraltar is a cat shelter in Los Barrios (Cádiz). need of assistance for relocating cats to new homes and rebuilding damaged facilities. You can donate to their PayPal gatoscampodegibraltar@gmail.com

Protectora San Antón is an animal shelter for cats and dogs in Jerez de la Frontera (Cádiz). The entire place is flooded and the animals don't have a comfortable place to sleep in. Cats can't even walk on the ground. You can donate to their PayPal protectorasananton@hotmail.com

I'll be adding more as I find them. Thank you everyone for your help.

Edit: adding this because I keep seeing people on Twitter and Tiktok say it makes no sense to give money to people in a "first world" country. I need you people to understand that living in a western country doesn't equal politicians caring about you.

This whole thing started because politicians weren't doing their job and they're still not doing it. People (literal civilians, not firefighters or policemen) are literally pulling bodies from under cars and putting them inside the trunks so children in the affected areas don't see them. There's underground parkings still flooded by water and we don't know how many people may be inside them.

France offered to send us 200 firemen and the Ministry of Interior literally REFUSED. Some of these French firemen came on their own anyway. But that's what our politicians are doing. Negating help and pointing fingers at each other so they don't seem guilty.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

ALL TOYS REACTIONS TO FINALLY HAVING A FRESH BATH AND MANY FRESH FOODS AFTER ESCAPING THE FACTORY

Along with them getting bandages and such for the wounds, etc. They'd be crying with tears of joy and thanking their angel a lot for it

(Prototype and Doctor is dead in that forsaken factory)

This! This ask is the kind of stuff that makes me love writing!

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me :)

Player who helped the toys in Safe Haven escape the factory

★ After the Player brings everyone into their house, an uneasy silence fills the room only drowned out by quiet murmuring. Nobody is sure what to do. Most had forgotten the warmth of a real home, having spent so long in a hostile environment.

★ Poppy is the first to speak. "Are…are you sure we can stay?" The Player nods, their gentle smile providing the comfort everyone needs. One of the other toys shyly asks, "Do you have snacks?"

★ They are all hungry, starving even. Fortunately for them the Player has a pantry stocked up with snacks. The toys, who had been surviving on scraps, are overwhelmed by the sight of so much food.

★ Since none of the toys know how to cook, the Player takes the lead in preparing a proper meal. It's been so long since they've had actual food. Not raw, questionably sourced, meat.

★ The kitchen becomes rather crowded, with the smaller toys peeking over countertops to watch the Player cook. Doey cried when he got a plate of food all to himself. It's been so long since him and his friends could all eat there fill without worries. No empty stomachs or dirty, unwashed plates.

★ Kissy was one of the last toys to enter the kitchen. She's hesitant, her eyes darting around the room, still not fully believing that they are truly safe. she examines each item in the room, curiosity getting the better of her.

★ She can feel her body relaxing for the first time in ages. The feeling of safety and comfort is almost surreal. Several of the other toys lean on her while getting comfy after their meal. A small cuddle pile forming.

★ You hate to ruin the fun, but all of them where in desperate need of bath. You couldn't let them stay dirty. By the time everyone is done getting washed up the bath water is a murky brown and the Player has run out of towels

★ The Player tends to any wounds, applying bandages when needed. Doey helps them with the band aid part. He doesn't think it's fair for the Player to do everything alone.

★ There is a lot of work to do before everyone feels some semblance of okay. Some of the scars won't fully heal, but that's a problem for tomorrow. It's been a long day and you need rest. Tonight, everyone is safe and sound, curled up in all the blankets you could find.

[dirtysvthoughts]

𝙗𝙖𝙚𝙘𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣! [1𝗄 𝖼𝖾𝗅𝖾𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇] - part. 1: the destination

synopsis: you and your boyfriend have been working nonstop. performances on his end and endless meetings on yours. when you both finally get a break, he proposes you two get away for a few days. little do the both of you know that this “baecation” will provide physical, emotional, and sexual healing.

general tags/warnings: smut, pwp, female! reader, boyfriend! chan, non-idol! chan (professional dancer! chan), vacation/baecation getaway, lots of teasing, lots of dirty talk, lingerie on reader, hotel room sex, balcony sex, pool sex, basically chan and reader are just horny lovebirds

this part’s tags/warnings: cooking and food, kissing, tinges of suggestive material, mentions of the beach, waterfronts, etc.

word count: 2.6k

notes: well, she’s finally here! baecation is ready for you all to consume and i really hope you all like it! 🥹 thank you again for 1k, it still feels very surreal and i’m so lucky to do one of the things i love and share it with you guys. now before i get too sappy, let’s get into it shall we?

taglist will be reblogged!

——

quite frankly - you’re over it.

for the past month and a half, you’ve been pushing your limits at your job. your boss designated you as the lead of a project and on top of that, you had to put in overtime to ensure that the project workload AND your individual load were still up to standards. while you knew things would be worth it in the end (your project commissions and overtime would give you an extra $2,500 dollars on your paycheck), you would be lying if you said your mental and physical health were starting to deteriorate.

today especially, you realized things were going to get worse before they got better. as you shut down your workspace, you felt ounces of your energy leave your body. too much happened for your liking - your teammates argued about the project’s direction, your boss complained about the most minute details in a presentation you were to give in a few days, and to culminate the day, your company laptop malfunctioned while you were working and it had to be sent to i.t. for it to get fixed. at this point, you were ready to head home, wrap yourself up in your covers, and forget about everything and everyone.

you’re not sure if you heard people say goodbye to you as you left the office, but if they did, you were too tired (and too agitated) to care and respond back. as you enter into the parking deck of your office building, you fish for your phone and see some missed texts from your boyfriend, chan.

channie ❤️: hey, just wanted to check on you

channie ❤️: i’ll probably be over later tonight

channie ❤️: so much is going on, and i really want to see you

you breathe a sigh of relief at seeing your boyfriend’s name appear on your screen, but you also can��t help but worry. your boyfriend chan was a professional dancer - and a damn good one. he’s been dancing since he was three, and it’s his first love. he teaches at three of the most popular dance studios on a weekly basis, drawing in huge crowds of avid and eager learners. his instagram comments are always flooded with words of praise - handsomeness and talent catching the eyes of millions. his sharpness, keen eye for detail, and flawless execution made him the target for entertainment companies and he was often called in to be a backup dancer or choreograph for popular idol groups. currently, he’s preparing to dance with a popular boy group after their latest comeback broke records.

he did mention that his rehearsals were getting a bit more intense, especially since this group in particular were about to start their promotion period. there were days where he complained that his body ached and times that you helped take care of him, so you just had to pray and hope that today wasn’t as harsh on him.

you and chan have been together for a year and a half after meeting at party hosted by a mutual friend. you weren’t sure that you two were a good match for each other, but after a few meet-ups and intriguing conversations you realized that you two had more in common than you thought. whatever one of you might have lacked, another made up for in actions or words. you two complemented each other and you had each other’s backs. even through some rough patches, you both realized that there was no one else you wanted to be with. there was no going back.

as you started your car engine, you shoot a quick text back to chan, thanking all higher powers you would at least have some better solace this evening.

babe 😏: you too? i guess we can talk about later when you come by. see you in a bit, love ya ❤️

the drive after work feels somewhat longer than normal, the traffic almost making you reach your limit. but you finally find yourself back in the comfort of your apartment, kicking your shoes off to the side and dropping your bag and blazer to the floor. you breathe a huge sigh of relief as you enter your bedroom, take off your bra, and flop onto your bed, letting the sweet scent of your bedsheets fill your nose.

you find yourself drifting into dreamland a few minutes later, but the grumbling of your stomach and the fact that you still had the rest of your work clothes on brings you back to reality. despite some opposition from the rest of your body, you get up and grab some loungewear from your dresser and head for the shower, hoping to relax your tense muscles.

after you come out the shower and change, you head to the kitchen to start on dinner. you decide on chicken fried rice - one of you and chan’s favorite meals to eat together. you pull the ingredients from the fridge and the seasonings from the cabinet, asking your smart home device to play serene, chill music. the instrumentals fill your space, and you get to work - washing the chicken first.

as you finish garnishing both plates, you hear your doorbell ring. you check your camera, and smile as you see your boyfriend come into view. you quickly wash your hands and answer the door, embracing chan in a tight hug before he can even say anything to you.

he’s surprised at how you rush at him, but it quickly melts into a soft smile as he wraps one hand around your waist and one on the back of your neck. he gently sways you back and forth, rubbing the small of your skin. after nearly eight hours of rehearsal, all he wanted to do was spend the rest of the day with you with no worries.

“hey you,” he whispers, glowing smile still on his perfect features. you finally make eye contact with him, a smile coming on your face, beaming at the fact that you were finally with your love. “hey,” you respond, going up on your toes to press a kiss to his soft cheek. chan takes the opportunity to place his hand on your chin and places a kiss on your lips. he quickly realizes he missed this wonderful feeling, and he deepens his movements, smirking when you can feel yourself lose all control and give into his desires.

you have to force yourself to come off him, knowing that if this continues dinner would be long forgotten. “c’mon babe, i made your favorite!” you take his hand and he drops his bags by your door, the familiar blending of seasonings wafting through his nose. “you made chicken fried rice?!” chan beams, entering the kitchen, his mouth nearly drooling at the plate full of goodness. “man, i really needed this today, thank you baby,” he places a kiss on your cheek this time as he goes to wash his hands. you can’t help but blush as you take the plates to the table, taking your seat as chan follows behind you.

“i’ll eat deliciously,” he affirms you, toasting your fork to you, taking his first bite and nodding in agreement at your cooking. you give him a minute to eat before you ask him anything.

“how have rehearsals been?”

“in one word, crazy,” he sighs. “i had to come in early to teach one of the members since he had an overseas schedule when the group had practice. then we had to rework some formations and drill the choreo over and over to get ready for filming tomorrow. i’m excited for filming and all, but im just tired.”

you sigh, shaking your head in agreement. “that’s understandable, things at the office have been crazy too. i love what i do, but this overtime is driving me crazy. i can’t wait to be finished so i can get this big bonus.”

“you’ve got this through. and when that check comes, it’ll all be worth it. just make sure you take care of yourself in the meantime. you know i’m proud of you right?” he rubs your back, his hand softening your tight muscles.

“thanks,” you respond shyly, smiling at your lover. “you know i’m proud of you too. you’re living out your dream everyday and you’re having fun doing it. your hard work is paying off too, chan. if i haven’t told you lately, you’re doing amazing. but you also need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, okay?”

he nods in agreement. “it’s only fair cause i asked you to do the same. i promise i’ll take care of myself.”

time passes by pleasantly, empty plates now in the dishwasher, conversations continuing from the kitchen table to the couch. your head rests on chan’s shoulders, your right hand on his leg.

“so when do you guys film the performance video?”

“tomorrow, and it’s supposed to last two days. then we have promotions with the group, but they divided us into two groups, so i only have to perform at music shows during the second week.”

an idea pops into your head, imaginary lightbulbs flashing rapidly. even though you were working overtime, you were scheduled for absences on friday and monday and your boss hadn’t rescinded on your days off. if chan only had to work until thursday, that would mean for once - both of your schedules would align.

“wait.. so that means you have a break after the music video?” you question. “even if it’s a short one?”

“yeah, what are you getting at?”

you sit up from your boyfriend’s shoulder realizing that the planning you completed in your head might have actually worked. “chan,” you exclaimed, “i actually have a break too! i get friday and monday off! chan, do you know what this means? we finally have the chance to spend more time together!”

your excitedness makes chan swoon, but it also brings a tinge of sadness. you were right - you two have been so busy that you had limited time together. between him dancing and teaching and with your work project, moments like these where you two could get away for a minute were rare.

“we should do something special then baby! we could go to dinner,” he gasps coming up with a new idea, “and i’ve always wanted to take you on a night boat ride! remember when i sent you those pictures from japan?”

earlier in the year, chan went overseas for another performance opportunity and during his time off, he and some of his other dancer friends took a boat ride with the city lights gleaming over the large body of water, waves that could lull anyone to sleep with their calming effect. it was a sight to behold, even through a 7 inch phone screen.

“yeah i do! those pictures were gorgeous,” you admire, thinking how back them you wished you were with chan on that boat, head resting on his shoulders like you did earlier, taking peeks of your boyfriend every now and then. he would be staring into the distance, somehow managing to look more handsome than anyone else.

“actually, i kinda want to do something grander than a date night though..” you hint, playing with your hair as you temporarily avoid eye contact. “i’ve been seeing this idea on insta for a while, and now i dream of doing it with you, chan. why don’t we take a trip together babe?”

“like a day trip?”

“mmm, i was thinking more like for the weekend. and it doesn’t have to be somewhere ridiculously far either, not like bali or anything! matter of fact, there’s a beach that i found right off the coast and the city is stunning!” you pull out your phone and type in the name of the beach in the search engine. you pass your phone to chan, images of beautiful blue water and white sand flooding his lenses.

“ah, crystal beach!” chan recognizes the name. “some of my friends have been there before, they said it was really nice! they said there’s a waterfront hotel right in front of the beach, and from the right floor you can get the perfect view.”

suddenly, you can envision the two of you on the fifteenth floor, sunrise glistening through the windows as you sleep in chan’s arms, legs wrapped around his waist, head on his chest. nothing else would matter in that moment expect for you two. no work, no projects, no eight-counts - just you, your lover, and the gentle ocean breeze.

“so, what are you thinking? should we go for it?” you ask.

“let’s do it babe! we’ve never done something like this before, and we can make some great memories out of it! and from the looks it, we could both use some time away from all of this,” he gestures towards the windows, overseeing the big city that encased you two.

“yeah,” you nod in agreement. “i think some time away is long overdue. and it’ll be good for us! honestly, i was thinking about us waking up together, and now i can’t wait to get out of here!” you both share a quick laugh as you head comes to the familiar space of chan’s shoulders.

you two share a few moments of silence before chan taps your leg twice as your eyes look into his, “do you wanna leave friday morning? we can get there by the afternoon, chill for a bit, and then get dinner or something.”

“m’kay, that sounds good to me. do you want me to reserve the room or do you wanna do it?” you ask, rubbing his shoulder.

“i can reserve the hotel room! don’t worry about it babe.” you kiss chan’s cheek as a thank you, fingers intertwining with his. chan pulls out his phone, typing in the hotel name, leading him to the website. he then locks his phone, already making plans to make this the best trip for you both.

some more time passes, you and chan watching random youtube videos, laughing at funny moments. but soon it comes time for chan to leave, he has an early morning because of the music video filming.

you walk with him to the door, handing him his bags. you go on your toes to kiss his cheek one more time before he leaves. “good luck on filming, i’ll see you on friday!”

he bends down to press a gentle kiss on your lips, hand caressing your jaw to deepen the feeling. you return his passion, tongues moving together like choreography. when you separate, his lips form in a smirk - he loves the feeling of leaving you breathless.

“if i get out early on thursday night i’ll text you. if i do, can i spend the night?”

“of course, baby,” you smile at him, biting your lip. “i’ll see you soon, okay? you need to get some rest.”

“okay, okay, love you baby,” he says leaving one more kiss on your lips.

“love you too, text me when you get home!” you respond as he opens the door, waving you goodbye, signaling with his fingers that he would affirm he got home safely.

chan closes the door as he walks to the elevator, hearing your door lock, making sure you were safe. he quickly gets out his phone, the hotel’s website coming back into view. he chooses the dates, chooses two people to occupy the space, and it takes chan to the room selection. he scrolls until he find the perfect room - one with a king size bed, and a balcony view, hopefully one that would overlook the beach.

before he reserves the room, he texts one of his friends that stayed at the same hotel.

hey yeonjun, i need a favor.

which exact floor were you on when you went to that hotel at crystal beach?

[aceecee]

Insatiable - Extra #7

The things you either do together/endure or for them: 

Annoying touches:

It’s not really annoying per say but touching you is her greatest desire. Like in Caleb's bond ‘Rain’s Embrace’ where she grabs his face or Sylus’s recent birthday card where she pats him on the stomach, that’s what I mean. You’ll just be cuddling in bed together and all of a sudden, she’s biting your cheek! Randomly poking you in the same place over and over again. Jumping at you etc.

It’s not her fault, she’s desperate for your attention!

Squashing his insecurities:

There’s something about Caleb that has me wanting to just hug him. I relate so much to his desperation for love. He’s willing to be anything for MC, locking himself away, taking care of her, so much of his life is dedicated to her.

But with you, the script has flipped. Instead now it’s you taking care of him. Not even that, the two of you have been through similar shit. That gives the both of you a comfort no one else can. But those insecurities still rear their ugly head, especially the guilt he feels about the way he used to treat you. He’ll find himself believing how you deserve better than him, someone who isn’t so broken. You’ve made it your 24/7 job to squash these stupid thoughts of his.

Laughing at his jokes:

He’s seen by everyone around him as this stoic and cold person who probably doesn’t joke. We all know better though, his dry humour is hilarious but oftentimes it never gets him the reaction he’s looking for. The first time you laughed at his joke, he puffed up in pride and looked so happy. You never tell him this though, afraid it’ll be one of those things where he’ll stop doing it now that he’s aware.

It goes further than that, it shows how deep you understand him to notice when he’s serious and when he isn’t. 

Biting:

I know what you’re thinking. 

Oh, he’s a dragon of course he enjoys biting us!

No, he enjoys it when you bite him. He lost it the first time you bit him while kissing him. You’d done so since you were mad at him. Since then he keeps purposely riling you up in hopes you’ll do it again. You realised it pretty quick so now you just bite him whenever. You won’t deny that you like marking what’s yours. But it’s evolved to something more casual too, biting onto his arm has become a sort of clutch for you.

Keep him company:

I know many believe him to be boring, they label him as not that exciting as the others. But Xavier’s the only one who’s genuinely lived a long life. Sure, Sylus and Rafayel are centuries old but at least they’ve lived countless lives, all different. Xavier has only had the one. He’s experienced so many things that all he wants is to live simply, it’s why he lives in a simple apartment building when he could live in a mansion. Why he wears hoodies and jumpers is because he’s spent so long wearing princely attire, stuck to his role.

It’s why he likes to just spend time with you. Whether it’s cuddling together while you both sleep, or him watching as you cook. No matter what it is you do, just do it with him around.

Nude modelling:

Sure it might sound sensual but it’s not. The first time you agreed to do it, he spent an entire day just studying your body before he painted a thing. It was a different type of intimacy to you, it’s why you never say no whenever he asks. There’s a hint of anger in him when he sees the various scars on your body and it bleeds into his works of you. The paintings come out with so much passion that everyone of your interests has had at least one commissioned. Of course Rafayel made sure to have your consent before he agreed. 

Tag List: @serenity-loves-red @crimsonmarabou @reni502 @r0ckb1n @queenkymmie @plzdonutpercieveme @perqbeth @mephisto-with-a-knife @tumblingdevils @angelwhizpers

[theturtlelovers]

Hi! May I request, for the sentence prompts, number 5: “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” For a female reader with Donnie who are bf and gf, and the reader is saying it to Don?

₽Φ₭€ ƒΦ₹ A₮₮€₪₮¡Φ₪

Pairing: Donnie/GN!Reader Rating: Everyone Contents: The reader is implied to be female in request but can be interpreted otherwise, Donnie licks icing off of pop tarts Warnings: None Wordcount: 666

Notes: Hehe, getting back to knocking those requests down! It'll be a while before I even consider reopening requests, though.

What you were doing wasn't particularly new. It had become a routine to lovingly annoy your boyfriend until he had no choice but to turn his attention to you. Because miraculously, the moment he did, he would see you fluttering your lashes and sending him a sickeningly sweet smile dripping with feigned innocence. If it were his brothers, Donnie would be ready to scold them to the point they'd regret even being in the same proximity as him. Yet, because of that victory grin you would flash when you got him to look at you, he couldn't bring himself to do so.

And it was very interesting because you'd always find new ways to grab his attention.

One time, you texted him that you needed assistance at your apartment. Being the helpful lover he is, he came over ready to lend a hand, only to find that you had lied and just wanted to have dinner with him. Although annoyed as his mind was already recalling his list of tasks, he realized how hungry he was and how much he yearned for your touch. So, he ate the home-cooked food you made and then stayed even longer for movies. 

Another time was when he hadn't emerged from his lab for nearly an entire week. While you absolutely respected the effort and dedication he put into his work, you missed him, and he seriously needed to take care of himself. So you sat next to him and started reading. Out loud. Very monotonously. And it was the Bible! "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth," you began, your voice droning on in a blank tone. "And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep.”

Donnie didn’t register it at first, but then he looked at you in absolute confusion.

"And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light," you continued, not missing a beat.

“What are you doing?” If he had eyebrows, they’d definitely be raised right now. In his confusion, he was trying to fight a smile creeping up.

You looked up from the overly thin pages of the scripture, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “What do you think? I’m reading till you love me again.”

The self-taught scientist rolled his eyes, his annoyed confusion forgotten. “Okay, okay, come here.” Then there was that smile.

This time, you decided to employ the most annoying yet basic tactic to garner his attention: poking him repeatedly. Leo had once again clumsily broken the toaster, and it was out of commission. Donnie wanted to be able to toast his Pop-Tarts before licking the icing off later, so repairing the toaster was an absolute must.

It was hard to do that, though, when you slid in like a worm (he’d still love you as a worm; you’d be beneficial in different ways) and started poking him.

The first few pokes didn’t bother him at first. They were so fleeting and feathery he didn’t really care that you were touching him. They weren’t impeding his work.

But then they got a bit harder. And longer. And it was actually affecting his ability to think since you were choosing to poke random spots.

“I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.”

Donnie took a deep breath and slowly turned to you. You blinked at him blankly. God, he was so lucky was madly in love and your cute face and pretty lips- Donnie’s eyes closed for a moment. He took another deep breath and released it with a small shake of his head.

“Well, you certainly have it now.”

You did your little weird giggle as if you were some sort of gremlin. “Hehe! What’d the toaster do to Leo this time?”

While he recalled Leo’s version of the grand battle he had against the appliance, Donnie couldn’t help grinning when he saw the same smile you always have. Victory once again.

Tagging: @mrghostings, @whygz, @supershiny-raven Interested in getting tagged? Come check it out!

Like what you read? Check out my masterlist to see if you find anything else!

[takusan-no-ai]

You forgot your lunch, babe

PAIRING: Zhu/Ellen x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: They forgot their lunch, so (Y/N) cooks some for them.

It was early in the morning when Zhu had to leave for work early thanks to a sudden meeting. She couldn’t even give you, her boyfriend, a good morning call because of how late she was; she even almost left the house with her pajamas on!

The meeting went on for hours…so by the end of it Zhu had missed breakfast and almost lunch. Just as she was going to buy something from the cafeteria, she realized that her purse, and so her wallet, were at home. She was about ready to cry.

As for you, well, after not getting an responses to your texts, you knew something was wrong. With your key that Zhu gave to you, you explored her house not just to find out she forgot her necessities, but that she didn’t even grab her brunch!

With your mind made up, you cooked her a meal, and packaged it inside a huge bento box. Getting in your car, you drove to your girlfriend’s work place. After arriving, you saw Zhu hunched over at her desk, stomach growling loudly despite her best efforts to contain it.

You walked over to Zhu, gave her the large packed meal, kissed her on the lips in front of all of her coworkers, and left with a big smile on your face. Zhu’s, however, was bright red as she looked at your fading figure. The sudden smell of delicious food aching her stomach even more.

Qingyi, Seth, Jane, and everyone else didn’t let her leave without an explanation on who the man that smooched her and cooked for her was. She was happy to have a full stomach, but was oh so embarrassed by your theatrics; though she still loves you despite that.

It’s pretty normal for Ellen to sleep in, especially when she doesn’t have work or school. She needed lots of energy saved up for the date she was planning to ask you, her boyfriend, out on. Sadly today wouldn’t be one of those days as an urgent VIP client needed help and Ellen was the only one available.

She had to begrudgingly get up and “rush” out of the door to work. Not one lollipop, not any breaks, and so much physical activity. Ellen was about ready to up and quit Victoria Housekeeping; however, she passed out before that thought could finish. At the very least, most of the commission was done. So the client called her coworkers to take her home.

You didn’t expect to receive any texts today, since it was Ellen’s “break day” as you called it. Rina left you a message, asking you to come and take care of Ellen as they’re all quite busy and can’t risk upsetting their clients.

She also told you Ellen’s stomach kept growling and she was curled up in pain as she slept. Rina would’ve made her something but duty calls, and so you got to cooking a nice meal for your girlfriend, including desserts, and went to Victoria Housekeeping.

When you arrived Ellen was still fast asleep on the couch. That was until you started unpacking the meal for her. She immediately woke up and started munching on the food, a content smile on her face. She was so cute you couldn’t help yourself and kissed her forehead before waving goodbye and leaving.

While Rina was gone, Lycaon and Corin had just returned from a completed commission. The two tried to sneak by and not disturb, but Ellen could sense their stares. She sighed, trying her best to fight the growing blush on her face.

- Fin

[moxanji-real]

♡ “A Confession I Couldn’t Take Back”♡ ( A Moxanji Fanfic)

✎ One-Shot, Romantic, Angst

✎ One Piece Fanfic, Sanji x Oc, Sanji x Self insert

✎ 1.6k words

The kitchen was warm, filled with the comforting scent of sizzling butter, fresh herbs, and slow-cooked spices. The soft glow of the lanterns bathed everything in gold, making the space feel even more intimate. Moxie sat at the counter, chin resting on her palm, eyes following Sanji as he worked.

She had always loved watching him cook. The way he moved was mesmerizing—fluid, practiced, effortless. He could balance three different dishes at once, flip a pan without looking, chop vegetables at lightning speed while humming under his breath. He made it all look easy.

And, of course, he was beautiful.

The way the golden strands of his hair fell into his face, the way the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, the way his eyes softened whenever he was focused—it wasn’t fair.

Sanji caught her staring and smirked. “Enjoying the view, Moxie-Moon?”

She rolled her eyes, but her lips curled slightly. “You’d be delusional to think I wasn’t.”

Sanji’s hand almost slipped on the spoon he was holding, but he recovered quickly, clearing his throat. “Well, can’t blame you. I am quite the sight.”

Moxie shook her head, amused. She liked moments like this—when it was just the two of them, teasing, flirting, pretending for a moment that she could have him.

But that was all it was, wasn’t it? Pretend.

Sanji flirted with everyone. He was kind to everyone.

Even if her stomach twisted every time he fell to his knees before Nami, even if she sometimes wondered—could he ever look at me the way he looks at them?—she knew better than to believe she was special.

Moxie had been called many things in her life. Violent. Crazy. Ugly. Unlovable.

Sanji deserved someone soft, someone good.

Someone better than her.

Maybe that’s why, without thinking, she did something reckless.

“I love you.”

Sanji froze.

The kitchen, once filled with the soothing sounds of cooking, fell silent. The warmth in the air seemed to shift, turning unbearably heavy.

Moxie barely registered what she had said until she saw the way he turned to look at her—really look at her.

His ocean-blue eyes, usually filled with playful charm, were wide with something raw, something fragile.

Hope.

Longing.

For a fleeting moment, he looked at her like she had just given him something precious.

And that terrified her.

Panic surged through her, crashing over her like a wave.

“I was joking,” she blurted, forcing out a nervous laugh.

The shift in Sanji’s expression was instant.

It was like watching the light in a lantern flicker out.

His lips parted slightly before he pressed them together, composing himself with a tight, unreadable smile.

“Right,” he said after a moment, voice carefully even. “Of course.”

Moxie’s stomach dropped.

Sanji turned back to the stove without another word, his movements precise, controlled—but there was no joy in them anymore.

And for the rest of the night, he didn’t look at her once.

————————————————————————

Dinner was different.

Sanji still moved through the dining hall, still served the crew their meals with his usual charm—but something was missing.

His usual flirtations with Nami and Robin lacked their usual enthusiasm, his voice quieter, his laughter hollow.

The crew noticed.

“Is it just me, or is Sanji acting weird?” Usopp whispered to Chopper.

“Yeah…” Chopper frowned. “He seems… sad.”

Franky let out a low whistle. “Didn’t think anything could knock the love cook outta commission. Guess even he’s got limits.”

When Sanji placed her dish in front of her, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even glance at her. And for the first time since she had met him, she realized—she had hurt him.

————————————————————————

She tried to fix it.

She tried to joke with him like usual, tried to talk to him when they were alone, tried anything to get him to look at her the way he had before.

But every time she reached out, he pulled away.

Every time she spoke, he found something else to do.

By the time night fell, she was desperate.

She found him standing on the deck, leaning against the railing, cigarette smoke curling into the night sky.

She hesitated before stepping closer. “Why are you acting like this?”

Sanji exhaled slowly, eyes never leaving the horizon. “Acting like what?”

“Like I don’t exist.”

A pause. Then—

“You’re the one who said it was a joke.”

Her throat tightened.

She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She hadn’t meant to do this.

But she had.

Sanji finally turned to look at her. His expression wasn’t angry. It wasn’t cruel.

It was just… tired.

“Why did you take it back?” he asked softly.

Moxie inhaled sharply.

Because she was scared. Because she didn’t believe she was enough. Because she thought he deserved better.

She opened her mouth to speak—

But he was already walking away.

And she let him.

————————————————————————-

Moxie sat on the deck, her arms wrapped around her knees, staring out at the dark waves as they rolled beneath the Thousand Sunny. The moonlight cast a silver glow over the sea, its reflection shifting and rippling like her thoughts.

Her heart felt heavy.

She had ruined everything.

The confession, the way she had taken it back, the way Sanji had looked at her—hurt and disappointed, like she had reached inside his chest and pulled something precious away.

She should’ve just told the truth.

Footsteps approached from behind, heavy but unhurried. A shadow loomed over her, then a sigh.

“Y’know, sitting here sulking ain’t gonna fix anything, sister.”

Moxie didn’t move, didn’t look up. “Go away, Franky.”

Franky ignored her, dropping down to sit beside her, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He leaned back against the mast, arms crossed, his sunglasses glinting under the moonlight.

“Not gonna lie,” he said, tilting his head toward her. “I’ve never seen the love-cook like this before.”

Moxie swallowed but said nothing.

Franky let out a low whistle. “Damn near walked around all day like a ghost. You really did a number on him, huh?”

Moxie flinched.

Franky wasn’t trying to be cruel. He wasn’t even trying to make her feel guilty—just stating the truth.

And the truth hurt.

She clenched her fists in her lap. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know.”

Silence stretched between them. The sound of the waves, the gentle creaking of the ship, the distant laughter of Luffy and Usopp somewhere on the other side of the deck—it all felt so far away.

Moxie exhaled shakily. “I was scared.” The words felt strange coming out, like they had been trapped inside her for too long. “I thought… I thought if I really said it—if I really told him—I’d lose him.”

Franky hummed. “And instead, you lost him anyway.”

Her throat tightened.

She had been so afraid of rejection, so afraid of not being enough, that she had shoved her own feelings back down before they had a chance to breathe.

But in doing so, she had crushed his, too.

Franky shifted beside her, adjusting his arms behind his head. “Lemme ask you something,” he said. “Do you really think Sanji would’ve waited five years for someone he didn’t care about?”

Moxie stiffened.

Franky turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “C’mon, girl. Think about it. The guy flirts with every pretty woman he sees, but when has he ever looked at someone the way he looks at you?”

Moxie’s stomach twisted.

She had spent so long convincing herself that she was just another face in the crowd. Just another girl Sanji treated kindly, because that’s who he was—a gentleman, a romantic, someone who loved freely and openly.

But Sanji had never once looked at Nami or Robin with the same raw, vulnerable longing that had flickered in his eyes tonight.

She had seen it. She had seen it.

And she had thrown it away.

“I don’t know if I’m good enough for him,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Franky let out a sharp laugh. “Now that’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard all day.”

Moxie blinked, startled.

Franky shook his head. “Lemme tell you something, kid. Love ain’t about ‘deserving.’ It ain’t about being perfect or some fairy tale version of yourself. It’s about being there. Being real. And last I checked, Sanji ain’t in love with some fantasy.”

He nudged her lightly with his elbow. “He’s in love with you.”

Moxie swallowed past the lump in her throat.

Franky’s expression softened. “You think you’re not enough for him?” He shrugged. “Well, guess what? He’s probably sittin’ somewhere right now thinkin’ he’s not enough for you.”

Her chest tightened.

She could picture it.

Sanji, alone, staring at the sea just as she had been, thinking that her confession hadn’t meant anything. That she had never loved him. That he had been foolish to believe she did.

But she did.

God, she did.

Franky stood, stretching with a groan. “The way I see it, you got two choices. You can sit here all night feeling sorry for yourself, or you can get your ass up and fix it.”

Moxie wiped her face, though she hadn’t realized she had started crying.

She inhaled, exhaled.

Then, determined, she stood.

Franky grinned. “Atta girl.”

———————————————————————

She ran through town that night, desperate for something—anything—to help her say what she couldn’t before.

She returned to the ship with a ridiculous oversized teddy bear and a bouquet of mismatched flowers.

Sanji was still on the deck, staring at the sea. He turned when he heard her approaching, his eyes widening at the sight of her, winded and teary-eyed, clutching the gifts like they were a lifeline.

“Moxie…” His voice was soft, uncertain.

Sanji’s fingers twitched at his sides. His breath hitched, his usually steady composure shaken as he watched Moxie, her eyes glassy, her hands gripping the bouquet so tightly the petals trembled. The night air was cool, but her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling with each unsteady breath.

She was beautiful.

And then—she spoke.

“I wasn’t joking,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I never was. I never have been.”

Sanji swallowed hard, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Moxie took a step closer. “I’ve loved you for five whole years, Sanji.” The words spilled from her like a flood, like a dam breaking after holding back an ocean’s worth of longing. “Five years, and not a single day passed that I didn’t think of you.”

Sanji’s lips parted slightly, his eyes searching hers, desperate and vulnerable.

“I never forgot you,” she continued, her voice breaking. “Not once. Not ever. I still have the handkerchief you gave me when I was crying at the Baratie. I kept it all this time, folded neatly, like it was the most precious thing I owned. Because it was.”

Sanji’s breath shuddered.

“I loved you then,” Moxie whispered, her fingers trembling. “I loved you when you were just a waiter, kind to a girl who thought no one would ever care about her. I loved the boy who handed me that handkerchief and told me that I deserved kindness. And I love you now.”

Her voice wavered, thick with something raw, something unfiltered.

“I see you every night in my dreams, Sanji,” she admitted, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I long to kiss you. I long to be with you. And every night, I reach for you, hoping that somehow, somehow, you might be reaching back.”

Sanji’s heart pounded in his chest, his whole body frozen in place.

“I love you so much it hurts.” Moxie’s voice cracked, her lips quivering. “And I’m so, so scared that you’ve moved on from me—that you could never want me as much as I want you.”

She looked up at him then, eyes full of desperation, full of a love so deep it could drown the entire sea.

“Sanji,” she breathed, her voice trembling. “I’m begging you—please, love me back!”

Sanji exhaled sharply, his entire body trembling.

And then, slowly, tears welled in his eyes.

They slipped down his cheeks, glistening in the moonlight, unrestrained, unguarded. He didn’t wipe them away. He didn’t care.

Because in that moment, standing beneath the stars, looking at the woman who had just poured her entire heart into his hands—he knew.

He had never loved anyone more.

He had never wanted anyone more.

With all the tenderness in the world, Sanji stepped forward, his hands shaking as he reached out and cupped her face. His touch was gentle, reverent, as if she were the most fragile, precious thing in existence.

“Moxie-Moon,” he whispered, voice thick with overwhelming emotion.

Tears slipped down his face, but his smile—small, raw, full of love—never wavered.

“How can I not?”

Moxie let out a choked breath, her hands flying to his shoulders, gripping him like she would fall apart if she let go.

And then, with no hesitation left between them, Sanji pulled her into his arms.

She melted into him, burying herself in his warmth, clutching him as if afraid he would disappear. His arms wrapped around her tightly, like he was afraid of the same thing.

The world around them ceased to exist. There was only the sound of their uneven breaths, the quiet trembling of their bodies against each other, the weight of five years of longing finally lifting.

Sanji pressed his lips against her temple, lingering there, his fingers tracing gentle patterns against her back. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmured. “So, so long.”

Moxie squeezed her eyes shut, pressing herself closer to him. “Then don’t let go.”

Sanji let out a breathless laugh, pressing a kiss to her hair, his embrace tightening.

“Never,” he promised.

Hey everyone! I finally wrote the confession fic like I promised! Thank you all so much for supporting my ship—it truly means the world to me. I know I say it a lot, but I genuinely appreciate it.

Also, I’ve decided not to tag anyone in my writing posts moving forward—I’d like to keep them tag-free!

Now, time to give credit for the amazing artwork featured in the fic. The stunning banner art was created by @grubcakes, and the breathtaking scene art was drawn by @tobysetagawa! The moment I saw their work, I just knew I had to write a fic based on it! Hehe.

Hope you all enjoy it! 💖

[quitealotofsodapop]

Posting something silly before getting into some deeper AU stuff! >:3

Naming Ref.

"Six Monkie Kids" idea got away from me and I made this monstrosity:

Here's details of the boys going left to right!

Xiaotian/"MK":

The Eldest? No one is really sure tbh, but he takes responsibility like he is.

Just as obsessed with stories of the Monkey King. Tang used to read Journey to West, and other traditional stories to the kids to send them off to sleep - MK always tried the hardest to stay awake.

Though all the brothers can carry Ruyi Jingu Bang - only MK can wield and command it. They chalk it up to the Staff recognising birth (hatching) order.

The ADHD still kicking his butt.

Has a small crisis of identity related to being 1 of 6 brothers. Loves art, cooking, music like in canon, but isn't sure if he'd ever be able to persue his passions professionally.

Still self-sacrificing to a detrimental degree!

Has a half/heart shaped face marking like certain monkey demons.

Xǐ Qìng/"Porty":

Works as a DJ/host for a local anti-gravity bar, and does freelance gigs on the side.

Practically nocturnal. You ain't seeing this boy up at 8am for nothing.

Baby Porty had no sleep cycle At All. He was the baby who was jumping on the bed at 4am. Tang eventually found a work-around by sticking on a compilation of music videos for the kids to rock out to before bedtime (my parents did the same to us with a Gloria Estafan vhs).

Covered in piercings and a few tattoos. First time he got either of them was without permission. Pigsy nearly exploded on Porty when he found out about it - not just for getting a body mod without permission, but for not cleaning it correctly! This old rockstar raised you better!

Has an embarassing nickname for everyone. Half of his bros got their nicknames from him.

Facial marking has a spiky pattern.

Xìn Shǐ/"Delivery":

Happily eats his brother's + customer's leftovers if no one catches him. Is violently against food waste.

Is the most diligent worker of the family; hence his nickname. Hopes to take over the restaurant someday or open a second location.

Has inherited many physical habits from dear Dadsy. Instinctively reaches for the wooden spoon when angry/threatened.

The tallest of his siblings! Chalks it up to his appetitie.

Openly worries the most out of all of his siblings.

Indentified by his face marking having darker "blush stickers" on his cheeks.

Zhèn Jìng/ "Apathy" & "Backup":

Works as a busboy/cashier for Pigsy's. Isn't sure if he wants to be anything else.

Extreme Middle Child Syndrome.

Has Resting B_tch Face. Will ignore anyone telling him to smile.

Is a bit of an otaku. Whereas MK loves the literary Monkey King, Apathy loves him some Son Goku anime. Prized possession is a Dragon Ball noodle bowl he won in a giveaway.

When he's not working, he's online playing video games and chatting to his discord friends. Often has to be reminded to stretch his legs and eat.

Is the brother most often mistaken for MK; only physical difference is that his face marking is inverted.

Jié Zuò/"Artist" & "Arty":

Freelance artist. Works on commission mostly for local businesses needing their buildings touched up and/or new logo designs. Sold exactly one original painting in his entire life, and is still convinced that he wasn't finished.

Inherited his sense of perfectionism from Pigsy.

ANGER ISSUES. Has been working on mangement therapy with Sandy.

As a cub, every wall of the restuarant and the apartment was covered in his drawings. Pigsy agreed to stop washing them off as long as Arty kept to a theme. There's still crayon drawings of noodle ingredients on a wall of Pigsy's 15+ years later.

Face marking is a rounded butterfly, though it has white splotches from vitiligo.

Mòzhī/"Inky":

Working on a degree in Psychology, with a particular interest in the function of memories.

Biggest. Gossip. Ever!! Has the tea on everyone.

Has a pretty big friend group from college that he hangs out with. He's a little embarassed that he's the son of a noodle-maker and a "professional book nerd", since a few of his friends come from affluent backgrounds.

Might initially be a pile of ink from the Scroll of Memory that was used to make a baby monkey. (Nüwa was running low on materials).

Most visually distinct baby! Has black fur opposed to dark-brown. Face marking is "raccoon eyes"-shaped.

Bonus:

First time Pigsy found the boys, he thought he was being pranked or was dreaming. Who's kids are these?! Why are they all muddy? Sweet Guanyin, how is he gonna find clothes for all of them?! Eventually he calmed the babies all down (most were crying), and gave them their first ever baths and bowls of noodles. The resulting call to Tang was... eventful to say the least.

Pigsy got advice from his grandmother, and his other relatives, about how to wrangle so many piglets at once. Pigs do have large litters after all!

Pigsy and Tang got legally married when the boys were young, mostly so they could pool finances. Six little piglets aren't cheap!

Wukong treats MK's brother like his little monkeys. Since he's only the eldest brother's mentor, he's able to let his guard down more around them, albeit awkwardly.

Each brother had differing reactions to meeting the Monkey King; from anger, amazement, to indifference. Selfies were taken.

A number of characters initially think MK is using his duplication power when they meet his brothers for the first time. Red Son attempted vengence on the other 5 before he learned that they were all different Noodle Boys!

Since they are all still creations of Nuwa, at least two or three take after her as lil half-snake/naga demons! Delivery I feel has an unhinged jaw, while a few of the boys have slited pupils. MK is still the most monkey of the boys tho!

[satorusugurugurl]

I Think He Knows: (Chapter Seven)

Summary: When your novel takes off and becomes a best seller, doors of opportunities open for you. You can work on the series you have dreamed about all your life. And you’re also given the chance to stay in a tiny cottage in Europe for two years to help with inspiration! Your best friend, Geto Suguru, shatters at the news. How could he tell you how he feels when you leave him? His opportunity appears right before him when you confess that your editor thinks a change of scenery will help with your not-so-steamy romance scenes. They’re lacking a particular spice because you’re a virgin. So, Suguru does what any best friend would do. He offers to teach you how things work. Will you cross that line as friends? Or will you both say goodbye?

Pairing: Geto Suguru x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 3,938

Warning: Language, nightmares, mentions of character death, panic attack, night terror, blood, PTSD,

A/N: We probably have three or four more chapters to go! Ugh, I can't believe it's coming to an end! 🥹😭💚

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Suguru is too stunned to speak as he sees the tears in your eyes. He reaches over, snatching the phone out of your hand, glaring down at his phone screen. Sure as shit Manami had texted him that for the twelfth time in the last week. Rubbing a hand through his hair, Suguru sighs.

“Princess, it’s not what it sounds like.”

You sniffle, wiping away the tears that had quickly appeared in your eyes, surprising your best friend and yourself. “It’s not?” Suguru reaches out, cupping your face and brushing your cheekbone with his thumb.

“No, I was offered a position in Okinawa to paint a mural. It’s a massive project that would take me roughly four months. This is the project I keep turning down.”

“Oh!” The light returns to your eyes, slowly fading away at the mere prospect of him leaving. “Okay, uhm—” you smile, “that’s good to hear.” Suguru grins, ruffling your hair. “What’s the project.”

His hand was still on top of your head, eyes glancing down at you and thought. Did he want to tell you what the project was about? He just stopped having nightmares about Riko, bringing up the commission he was offered by dragging up those memories again. But if you were going to be staying the night with him again, it shouldn’t be that big of a deal, should it?

“It’s for the aquarium in Okinawa.”

When Suguru mentions Okinawa and the aquarium, you automatically put everything together without him saying another word. He didn’t take the job because of the memories that lingered and that place. Memories of Riko, the girl he blamed himself for not saving. That was probably the number one—reason why he wouldn’t take this job.

You swallow as he turns back towards the pan and continues cooking the peppers. “It must have been a big project if they wanted you to stay down there for four months.” He nodded as he moved the spatula across the pan, stirring the peppers. “What exactly did they want you to do?” The spatula stops moving as Suguru sighs in defeat. He knew you now that you had this idea eating away at you. He knew you wouldn’t stop until you got an answer.

“Well, you know my agent isn’t the most considerate. She goes about sharing my artwork with potential clients unethically.” The spatula moves across the pan again. “She has a bad habit of taking pictures of unfinished projects and posting them online for everyone and anyone to see. The latest picture she took was that of Riko at the aquarium with the blue whales.”

“God, I cannot stand that woman!”

Your best friend chuckled, nodding his head as the peppers in the pan began to sizzle, the fragrant aroma of cooking food wafting over your senses. “Oh, I know you can't.” his shoulder sank, eyes distant, “That didn’t stop her from sharing a picture of my unfinished project online.”

Not only was it wrong for her to share something unfinished online for all his followers to see, but that was also something close to Geto’s heart. It was like his personal project revolving around a girl that he blamed himself for not saving even though there was no chance he could’ve saved her.

“So I’m guessing the aquarium saw it.”

“Yep, they want me to go down to Okinawa and paint a large mural with the same thing as a mural inside the aquarium.”

This project was a huge opportunity for him to paint something so massive for thousands and thousands of people to see; it would have already been growing larger. Painting a mural like that could open doors of possibilities for him. Suguru could be looking at hundreds of different commissions, whether small or larger projects like this one.

Even if it was an excellent opportunity for him, you knew there was no way he was going to go back to Okinawa in the near future. Far too many painful memories were associated with that place in your second-year trip. Despite plenty of happy memories from that trip, all Suguru saw when he reminisced was blood. But he still believes his hands are stained, no matter how often he scrubs them clean.

“Are you sure turning it down is a good idea?”

Suguru’s eyes widened at your words before slowly turning his head to look back at you. “What?” his voice was thick with confusion and pain.

“Well, I—” you sighed, “this might be a big chance for you.” Your best friend turned around, eyebrows pinched together. “And it might give you a chance to finally get some closure.”

“Closure?”

“Yeah, you can never heal if you do—”

“I’m healed. I don’t need that shit; I’m over it.”

“Suguru— you’re still having nightmares and—”

His dark eyes went darker as he glared down at the floor. “Yeah, I do, but I witness something pretty fucking traumatic too.” Oh fuck, this was not how you wanted this conversation to go.

“Right, of course! That’s normal, but I think if you—”

“Oh, you think what? You think if I go to Okinawa and reminisce of a girl that died because of me, some Disney movie shit will happen, and I’ll be magically healed?”

“Suguru, hold on—”

He laughed cold and dark as he took the pan off the stove again, tossing it on a burner. “Because I think if I go down there in the same aquarium she did across the street where she died. I don’t think it’ll help. I think it’ll make things worse” he turned the stove off, facing away from you.

You knew Riko was a sore spot for him. She always had been since her death. But you didn’t realize it was still as bad as it was since the accident. Seeing him so frustrated made your heartbreak into one million pieces. You wanted to help him with the heal. So you got up from your seat and walked around the bar, slowly approaching him as if he were an injured animal. Slowly, place your hand on his back, expecting him to relax.

His back remains stiff. Muscles tense as he shakes his head, looking back at you. Your eyes roamed over his face as you tried to think what to say when you had said more than enough.

Suguru pulled away from you, heading into the living room without a word. “Sugu!”? Your best friend listens to your bare feet shredding over the floor. “Suguru, stop and listen to me!” He turned, glaring down at you

“No, you stop.” His words had stopped your momentum. “Out of everyone, I thought you would be the only person who could understand how I can never go back there.” his voice sounded as broken as he looked. “I can’t go back there and face it alone.”

How your face fell was enough to tell Suguri that this conversation was finally over. He cleared his throat, nausea settling in his stomach, creeping up his esophagus. Tonight was supposed to be a quiet night with dinner and movies. The last thing he wanted to do was fight, and with the silence and the far-off look in your eyes, Suguru knew his plans for the evening had been ruined.

“Alright.” you started. Suguru had expected you to grab your bag and leave, but instead, you headed into the kitchen, turning the stove back on. “I’ll go with you.” You placed the pan back over the heat nonchalantly like nothing had happened.

“Huh?” he must’ve misheard you. He had to have because there was no way you just said that, not after he had barked at you.“What?”

Stir the peppers in the pan before looking back at your best friend with a warm, broad smile. “I said I’ll go with you if you can’t face alone, I’ll join you.” hearing you say that had the nausea stirring in the pit of Suguru’s stomach, but it wasn’t from grief or anxiety, but from how much he liked you.

“But—you—”

“I what?” You cocked an eyebrow as you added heavy cream to the pan with some butter. “I work from my apartment. My desk is my laptop, iPad, or my phone. I can go wherever I want and still work on my book. So it’s not like there’s a job holding me back.”

Suguru quickly headed back into the kitchen with you, watching as you stirred the peppers and cream together, making a sauce. “But you have meetings with Nanami and Utahime. Can you put that on hold for me?” You squatted down, pulling out his stock pot from underneath the cabinet and handing it to him.

“There’s this amazing new thing out there called FaceTime and Zoom. I can send emails if I have to meet with any of them. I can do a conference call from anywhere in the world. That wouldn’t be a problem. A change of scenery might be nice for me. Can you fill that pot with water, please?”

You so casually talked about packing up your life for four months to join him on a job that would most likely change his life forever, and butterflies were swarming in his abdomen. He knew you were great. You were always a good friend. But this is above and beyond words. If you were to join him, he might be able to go to the aquarium to walk the same street he had done back in high school. You might be right. This might be exactly what he needed.

Because he knew the nightmares would never stop, his therapist knew that he wouldn’t stop until he faced those demons. It was the only way he was going to be able to heal. To face everything head-on and talk about what happened.

He had never talked about it with anyone other than his therapist.

Suguru put the pot on the counter, wrapping his arms around you instead. He buried his face in the crook of your neck while his arms hooked tightly around your waist. One of your delicate hands came up, resting over his, holding you tight. It was a gentle gesture; one Suguru melted over.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to bring bad memories.” your voice was soft as you gripped his hand tightly. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know you do—I’m sorry I got so upset.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He pulled his head away from your neck just as you turned your face to look at him. “I just care a lot about you. I want you to be happy. I should’ve known better than being so insensitive.”

Suguru gently grabbed your chin, and for a second, you thought maybe he would kiss you. One that didn’t revolve around your book or research that you both were still hiding behind. Hell, no other than a kiss. He moves in closer towards you, nearly an inch away from each other. Your eyes were about to close when he pressed his forehead against yours, giving you another squeeze against his body.

“You weren't; you're just looking out for me.”

“O-Of course, I care about you.”

Suguru released his grip on you, picked up the stock pot, and headed to the sink to fill it with water as requested. As he watched the stream of water slowly fill the pot, he realized he couldn’t hide behind helping you anymore. He needed to be upfront and tell you how he felt. Especially now that you were offering to go to Okinawa with him, that would be four months of just being the two of you. After four months of you living together, he was positive he wouldn’t be able to hold back his feelings for you anymore.

Telling you the truth and not hiding behind some stupid idea that he was helping you with your book wouldn’t last because he knew he wouldn’t be able to put up that facade much longer. He almost lost it tonight. Suguru was going to kiss you for being kind and selfless, making sure he had the opportunity to return to the place he associated with blood and death.

He just needed to figure out how the fuck he was going to tell you how he felt.

He found himself sitting with Gojo, Nanami, Shoko, and Haibara. He needed his friends. They would know what to do and what to say because they knew you just as well as they knew him. Suguru sipped his beer, rolling his eyes as Gojo looked at him dumbfounded.

“Wait, you guys aren't dating?!”

“For the fifth time, we’re not dating.”

“But you have some agreement that you guys are going to fool around work on research for her book?”

Satoru gulped down his cola, dark sunglasses reflecting the restaurant's lights above him. “But I caught you guys in the alley?! I thought you finally told her how you felt!” Suguru was beginning to regret turning to his friends for advice.

“I haven't.”

The table grows silent; Satoru and Shoko share a flabbergasted look while Nanami scrolls through his phone glasses, running down the bridge of his nose. Haibara hums deep thought advice that he could give Suguru. He should’ve been honest with you and not used some stupid excuse to get together.

Was it even possible for the two of you to grow from this? Were you stuck in this situation he had made? It was like a labyrinth of lies because he was afraid to tell you he loved you.

Suguru throws his head back, looking at the fluorescent light fixtures above him. He needed to come to a decision because the two of you were about to leave for Okinawa in the morning. If he didn’t tell you how he felt, soon he might combust and make a full out of himself. Being in a small condo with you, sharing a bed, bathroom, and kitchen! How was he supposed to live with you like a couple and not tell you how he felt?

“I don't think you have anything to worry about.” All heads turned towards Nanami as he put his phone down. “Because I’m almost certain she feels the same way about you.”

“Oh yeah? How did you figure that out, Nanami?” Haibara excitedly asked his best friend.

“Her writing has improved tremendously, and I’m not talking about the intimate scenes. Those were some of the best I’ve read in the industry.” Nanami chugged down some of his beer. “Her description of the attraction and the love Oaklynn has for Ilsan is so genuine; it comes from the heart. You can’t write like that without knowing how it feels.”

Suguru flushed a dusty rose color before he took another hesitant sip of his beer. Was it possible that you felt the same way he did? Were all these long nights of kissing and touching each other making you realize you had feelings for him?

Downing the rest of his beer, Suguru slammed the glass down on the table. “What do I need to do?” He asked as he eyed each of his friends. The four shared before Shoko downed the rest of her drink, leaning back against the booth.

“You tell her the truth.”

While Suguru slowly accepted that he could no longer hide this, you faced your own dilemma across town. You gently slammed your head down on the table you were sitting at. Utahime winced each time your forehead connected with the surface, stealing a look at Yuki, who was snickering.

“Please don't laugh at me.” Hearing the anguish in your voice ceased your friends' giggles as Choso patted your back. “I’m in the midst of an extensional crisis, and you're fucking laughing.”

“Hey, I just think it’s hilarious you're barely realizing Suguri likes you.” Yuki threw her arm around Choso, pressing her cheek against his. “Let's review; the man offered to help you with intimate scenes; you've been hooking up almost every weekend, you said?”

With a blush, you sighed, pouting as you placed your chin on the table, looking up at Yuki. “More like every other night.” the trio before you blinked in silence before Yuki puffed her cheeks out to fight back laughter.

“Yuki, please!”

“Ignore her.” Utahime finally injected as she pushed Yuki’s face away with her hand. “So, with this agreement you both made, you want more? Like more in an intimate sense, like sex. Or more in the aspect of a relationship with him?”

The fact that the answer hit you like a bag of bricks made everything clearer. “I want to be with him.” There was no second-guessing, hesitation, or doubt in your words—just the pure raw truth. Utahime smiled, nodding, while Yuki beamed, reaching over and smacking you. Saying it out loud felt good. But you weren't sure if you could say it out loud to Suguru himself. “But how do I tell him? I-I’m sure I would freeze up if I even attempted to say that to his face.”

“You don’t tell him.” Yuki, with a certain confidence, had all of you looking at her. “You show him.”

“For God's sake, Yuki.”

“Hey! It worked for me and Cho! Suguru seems like the type of guy who likes a woman who takes action! When you get to Okinawa tomorrow and take the second step inside the condo, grab the shirt, slam your lips against his, and tell him you want him!”

“Okay—Yuki, no, that's a—”

“Terrific idea!”

The way you so excitedly agreed to do something out of your comfort zone had your agent deadpanning at you. Your eyes showed a glimmer as you slammed both fists down on the table. Your cheeks were flushed, and there was a certain glow around you. One that was so blissful and elated with joy. You always had one of those looks when you came up with a new story or a twist from your chapters. Whenever you had a look like that, there was no stopping you. Which was both a blessing and a curse

”Look, maybe that isn’t the right way to go about this; perhaps you should talk with him.” Both you and Yuki stared at Utahime with questioning expressions. “Or not; I guess you can do whatever you want. I—this is Geto Suguru we are talking about. He’s smart and polite; it’s not like he’s Gojo.” All you knew was that it was just her dislike of Suguru’s other best friend. Gojo was stupid smart,

“No, I have to do this; I have to be the one to tell him what I want.”

The rest of the dinner with your friends went smoothly; they all talked about anything and everything while you stared into the distance with a smile. The thought of showing Suguru how much he meant to you and how much you liked him was exciting, and you couldn't wait to be in Okinawa with him.

After you finished dinner, you and Utahime waved off Yuki and Choso before you eagerly bounced as you waited for your Uber. The entire time you stood there rocking as you searched for the car, Utahime fidgeted with her bag, glancing towards the street before looking at you from the corner of her eye. You knew she didn't think showing Suguru how you felt was the best way to convey your feelings, but you also knew it would work out!

She probably needed to hear you repeat it, so she knew you were positive that this was the best way to tell him. Before you even have a chance to open your mouth, your agent is whirling towards you, grabbing her phone out of her pocket. She swallows her dark eyes and darts towards the cellular device in her hand before meeting your gaze. The look in her eyes is one you had seen before. When the agency had an issue with a specific chapter or a problem with the cover art they designed, this wasn’t the look of a friend. This is your agent who helped you with your career.

All cheerful giddiness was flushed out of your body as you straightened, trying to shift from a love-sick schoolgirl to the professional author that you were. Utahime notices the change in your stand and how your face went from happy to professional in the blink of an eye. Seeing you shift into work mode had her tapping on her screen.

“What happened?” Your question goes unanswered just as she hesitantly holds her phone in a tight grip. “Iori, talk to me.”

“I know tonight was supposed to be a fun outing with us, not bringing up work, but I need to talk to you about this before you leave.”

“Okay.”

“It’s about the cottage.”

As the driver pulls up, he rolls down the window with a gentle smile. “Miss, were you waiting for an Uber?” When you don't respond right away, he takes a long, hard look at you, and he frowns.

Tears are running down your cheeks before dripping off your chin. Your skin is flushed, your knuckles clenched around your bag as Utahime harshly whispers at you, holding her phone in your face. To the driver, he fought; maybe you just found out your boyfriend was cheating, or something had happened to a mutual friend. In reality, Utahime was telling you you needed to make a choice. One that would end in heartbreak for either you or Suguru.

But it was a choice you made the second she told you what was going on—a choice you didn't need to think about because you already had made your decision.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3

ITHK Tag List (TO BE ADDED AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

@lemonintrovert01 @spankmydepression @renttheannihilator @witchbybirth @missmuffinr @lialia3945 @theobsidianempress @aquasan29 @toffeebrat @aussiemeerkat @chimichangagirl @zoroisminty @spankmydepression @em-aizawa @gojosimp26 @moonlightazriel @candy-s72

[paperstarwriters]

Nobody Asked

Doing this @vesuviaweekly prompt with Odysseus style "Nobody" lmao. Also, I added that Muriel likes grilled eel alongside the smoked eel he typically eats for the sole fact that I think Muriel would like eel kabayaki (I only know this dish from Delicious in Dungeon/Dungeon Meshi lmaoo, it's the grilled parasite dish, but damn does it look tasty!)

(also note; reader's experiences on writing are NOT based on my experiences!!!)

Pairing: Muriel x reader

Warnings: N/a

Summary:  Despite technically only being roommates, you and Muriel care for each other deeply, enough so that Muriel's more than willing to defend your online presence, while treating you to a cozy warm meal with cuddles and tender affection

Vesuvia Weekly Prompt | Masterlists | The Arcana Masterlist

Word Count: 2156

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It baffles you really, to see the name "nobody" constantly cropping up on your computer screen as you look at the commissions lined up for you. It wasn't often you got commissions really, you weren't that big of a presence online compared to some of your peers and yet you can't help the half giddiness and delight you get when you find your inbox full of a handful of requests. Most people really liked the fluffy cute stuff you made, but once or twice you'd get a request for something more interesting; something that most others didn't really seem to enjoy.

You liked it though.

Sometimes the request was a fun challenge; an interesting dive into the darker aspects of a character or the fascinating moral conflicts of what you should do and what you need to do. Other times, they were requests that circled around your favorite topics. the things you could just ramble on and on and on about for hours. It didn't appeal to everyone of course, and some people didn't like it when you included those dark aspects or that gush of interest you have in some niche topic, but you liked it. It tended to be the target of your passion projects, the muse of the grand majority of your unfinished drafts. Unfinished half because of the agony of creative blocks and half because... Well, you weren't exactly sure if you wanted to post it really. Who would like it anyways?

The last time you posted something outside your typical fluffy stories, so many were so quick to whine about the lack of fluff that they so sought. If it were a darker story than usual, they'd bark about how horrible you were for saying that people should be like that. if it was something of desperate interest to you, you'd get snide comments asking when the next story is, or that you should be working on shoveling their fluffy sweet entertainment into their open and awaiting mouth. It wasn't all horrible of course, there were many who expressed their love and admiration for your non-fluffy works, but still the cruel comments always stuck out, lingering in your mind like a piece of gum in hair.

"Nobody asked for this," you remember some snarky jerk commenting. "Just take it down."

You blocked them promptly after, hissing a bitter sigh, at the sudden infestation of cruelty that had surrounded you. It was nice, in a sense to know that you now had the most of them blocked, but it still worried you, still stung a bit, knowing that some of those people who once so kindly and lovingly enjoyed your stories went out of their way not to say how much they loved the things that they loved you created, but to yell at you for daring to make something different from your usual works. Something in their eyes, abhorrent.

Which was why it both baffles you, and yet delights you when you started to get those requests. A work about bloody horrible trauma. A depiction of violent horrible gore. Of a monster who kills and maims. Or just asking about a recent side interest you mentioned once or twice in your tags. All requested by "nobody"

"Nobody asked for this." It almost makes you laugh.

You've been talking about it to your roommate, while he cooks dinner in the kitchen, chopping away at potatoes, tossing veggies and spices into the big bubbling pot on the stove.

"I'm half tempted to unban the jerk to help Nobody prove their point." you say with a grin, chuckling as you swing your legs from where you're improperly sitting on your seat. You know that if he wasn't busy making food, Muriel would glare at the way you teeter almost precariously on your seat, but you trust yourself enough to not, fall too horribly, and trust the distance between your butt and the floor to not be all too worried about falling.

"....Did they really just do it to prove a point?" Muriel asks wearily, pausing a moment from his fluttering around the pot in what you assume to be a re-assessment of the spices he could use. He hadn't been very used to using spices apparently, only opting to use them since they were here in the form of Asra's left-behind spice rack, and their explicit permission to make something nice for yourselves with it. Also probably so that he wouldn't feel bad feeding you something bad. That always seemed to be a hangup of his.

"I mean, Maybe? Like the requests maybe not, maybe they actually enjoy reading my works but I did kinda think they used the name Nobody to just prove that one jerk wrong."

Muriel shrugs as he inspects the spice rack looking for something, stock still as he hovers over the vast selection Asra had left over for the two of you. Of course, over the many months the two of you have stayed here, not all the spices have remained the same, but the spices for Asra's favourite dish—blue-tongued skink—remain largely untouched, saved for the days when they'd visit, or the odd occasion when the two of you wanted to practice trying to properly cook the damn thing without making it taste like rubber. Really you just didn't know how the hell Asra managed to do it.

"Maybe it's not to the jerk. Maybe it's just for you. To make you happy....Or something."

You didn't catch if Muriel actually found the spice he was looking for or not, but he goes back to hovering in front of the pot, back still turned to you as he hems and haws over what else to add.

You hum in reply, trying to lean forward in your already teetering chair to catch a whiff of his current creation. "I mean, you can't go wrong with salt and pepper right?"

"Wha—oh, yeah, right."

He grabs the both of them then, tossing in a large pinch of salt before he begins methodically grinding pepper into the pot. He slows a little as he does it, speaking up before he sets the thing away. "I just don't think it's smart to unblock someone just to make them more mad."

"Yeah," you sigh, sinking back into your seat. "That's fair."

You grin slightly as you peer over at Muriel, pulling on a pair of embroidered oven mitts. A Kokkhuri pattern if you remember. One he had been trying to practice on nearly every piece of fabric he could get his hands on. You've found a few patterns on the insides of some of your clothes, the same particular pattern that seems to hold some meaning, though you can't tell what and he refuses to share.

"I guess that's a no on un-blocking the jerk, huh?"

Turning off the stove and grabbing the pot, Muriel finally turns back towards you, wearing a small smile on his face as he sets the stew on the table. Like the highest spell from you and Asra's shared store, the scent of the spiced meal engulfs you like a hug, making you relax purely out of habit. It really is amazing how easily it comes from the things that he makes for the both of you. The things you get to share.

He shrugs with one shoulder, as he grabs your shared bowl and fills it with stew, sitting beside you as you lean precariously on your seat towards him. "You didn't ask for their opinion did you?"

You laugh, a short bark of laughter, that nearly has you toppling from your seat if Muriel wasn't already holding onto it. He glares at you a little while you giggle, half at the near accident, and half at the coy corny joke.

"Yeah, yeah. 'Nobody asked for that' I get it."

Choosing not to risk another accident, you change your seating position. It's still not normal by any means, but this time your legs splay over Muriel's lap making his face bloom in shades of pink and red. Still, he doesn't dare try to escape, and keeps smiling, as he carefully rubs a hand on the outside of your thigh, though he cannot help his thumb from wandering as it strokes across your clothed skin.

The gesture, as much as you adore it, doesn't last long, broken as Muriel takes a spoon and begins to feed you, blowing on the spoonful before he offers it to you, like some parent feeding their child. You'd be embarrassed if it hadn't grown so common between the both of you. You do it to him too after all.

Cruelly, however, Muriel asks a question just as you eat your offered spoonful.

"...is it bad that they didn't do it to prove something wrong?" You grin as you glare, though Muriel still apologizes as if he'd somehow hurt you, but your spoonful didn't exactly have much to chew so thankfully you're quick to swallow.

"I mean, not really? It could be both I guess. I don't know though. They just feel special as a follower. I don't even know who they were before but they've been following me for a while now, and they've been liking and relogging my works all the time, and on top of all that they've renamed themself and requested my least requested fics! It's just so.... I don't know. I feel like I ought to do something in return. They just do... It feels like they're doing so much for me."

The bowl is in your hands now, and you've been feeding Muriel a few spoonfuls as you talk, all too eager to watch him eat more, despite still being so hesitant to do so himself. He lets, you, too focused on your words as you hemmed and hawed over this or that, just opening his mouth to let you feed him at random intervals. By the end you've probably fed him a good few spoonfuls more than he'd normally let you give him, but you're not really paying attention to that and neither is he. He stares at the bowl for a bit. Opening his hands in a silent request to be handed back the bowl, which you readily comply to only to watch him stare down at it for a little while longer.

He stirs the soup in the bowl for a bit, and you wait patiently for him to sort his thoughts out, before he takes up a spoonful, and once more, offers it to you with a gentle blow on it's surface.

"I think you do a lot for them too. You put a lot of effort into the things you create, even if you don't get paid for it, or even if not everyone likes it. Don't.... Don't make light of all the good things you've done... You're not obligated to pay them back."

He pauses again at the end of it, and you can't help but almost chuckle at his words.

"'Do as I say, not as I do', huh?"

His face picks up in colour again, but he nods, taking up his spoon to feed you again.

You don't let him feed you for long, taking the bowl back to feed him a few spoonfuls. In the cozy silence knit between you, you feed him some more of his share, blowing twice on the spoonful before you feed it to him, making sure he's eaten plenty before you hand it back to him. And back and forth you pass your food between the both of you. Eventually you fill your bowl with a second serving, and a conversation starts up anew, talking about work, about the nearby market and your favourite bakery, and the next time Asra was planning to visit. Amidst the chatter, the running assessment of who ate how much fades from your memory, but watching Muriel set the empty bowl down to lean back in his seat, and pull your legs just a little closer to his stomach tells you that he's more than eaten his fill.

"Full?" you ask with a bend of your legs, pulling yourself closer so that you can better snuggle. Your chair clatters a little when it hits his, though you're practically sharing the seat Muriel sits on, even if your weight was mostly on your own seat.

He feels a bit warm as he wraps an arm around you to pull you close  and gently rub at your shoulder, but he hums his confirmation, squeezing you a little as if to really hammer home the message. "What about you? Did you like it?"

You hum back at him, tucking yourself almost sleepily against his side. "Hey Mur. Thanks for taking care of me a bunch. Even if Asra mostly asked you to."

He scoffs at your comment. "We're roommates because Asra asked me to be here, but nobody asked me to take care of you."

So warm in his embrace you can't help but yawn a little as you giggle and shake your head at the obvious chance at a joke. "What? They've been sending you asks too?"

Again, Muriel scoffs at your comment, muttering something you just barely catch. "I can't ask myself to do something."

"...What?"

"Hm?"

[eggluverz]

TASTE OF THE UNIVERSE

PAIRING. jing yuan x gn!reader

WORD COUNT. 1,600

GENRE. fluff, pure fluff

SUMMARY. in which jing yuan occasionally gets tired of being general and you are there to cheer him up. but what exactly are you to him? jing yuan thinks you’re more important to him than you probably know. 

NOTE. brain empty jing yuan thoughts only _(:3」z)_ if anyone else has jing yuan thoughts feel free to share my ask box is open <3 in the meantime, pls enjoy !! xx

Jing Yuan joined the Cloud Knights to escape a life of boredom that was bound to await him if he followed his parents’ wishes and joined the Realm-Keeping Commission. And while he believed he ultimately made the right decision for his life, there were parts of being leader of the Cloud Knights that didn’t align with the future he had always dreamed of when he was a child. 

Some days, especially those days filled with stacks upon stacks of papers, Jing Yuan wished he could ignore his duties and explore the galaxies. Though, he reckoned everyone with any sort of career must have felt that longing before. Longing for a different life, different experiences, more time to explore. 

Such was human nature, after all. 

At least during those times that being a Cloud Knight general felt overbearing, Jing Yuan had you to alleviate the feeling. 

His relationship with you was nothing more than a friendship if you based it solely on labels. That is to say, neither you nor Jing Yuan have called each other anything but a friend. However, it’d be a lie for him to say he had never felt the implications of anything more with you. 

You were just friends, yet he gravitated towards you when he craved someone’s warmth and solace. 

You were just friends, yet you insisted on getting dinner with him whenever you could after work, no matter how late his nights were. 

You were just friends, yet Jing Yuan found himself wishing it was something more. 

With that wistful thought, he pulled out his communication device and opened his messages with you. To his delight, he found an unread message from you only half an hour ago. 

Y/N: Hey! :) How’s your day going? If you’re not too busy today, do you want to have dinner with me again? 

His eyes lit up at the invitation. He had piles of paperwork to get through, and Luofu’s duties were ones he would never neglect so long as he was the Arbiter-General of the Cloud Knights. But leaving some of the matters with less urgency to be dealt with tomorrow in order to make it to dinner with you was something he could accept. Not so much neglecting as it was prioritizing, he called it. Or work-life balance, as you had told him.

Jing Yuan: Good afternoon, Y/N. My day is good. Better, now that I saw your message. And yours?

Jing Yuan: As for dinner, perhaps we can go to my place today? I can have the chef prepare your favorite foods if you wish. 

He let out a soft sigh he’s been holding in. While it was common for the two of you to see each other, having dinner in a more private, intimate space wasn’t something regularly on the agenda. But if Jing Yuan wanted to get to know you on an even deeper level, he reckoned dinner at home would be a good step. 

Y/N: My day is also good! 

Y/N: I’d love to have dinner at your place. But maybe we can give your cook a break tonight :)

Y/N: I visited Belobog for my last vacation and learned how to make Snapper Jam during my time there. Since you’re too busy to visit yourself, maybe I can make it for you! You can have a little taste of another planet. 

Y/N: Though… I won’t have the ingredients from Jarilo-VI, but we can make substitutions accordingly! 

Jing Yuan chuckled to himself. Of course it’d be rather difficult to make authentic Belobogian cuisine without the exact ingredients, but he trusted your imitation would still be delightful to the taste. 

Besides, it was the thought that counted most and the fact that you wanted to share a part of the galaxy you experienced with him meant more than the quality of the meal. 

Jing Yuan: Hahaha, I’d be delighted to taste your cooking. Let me know what ingredients you need. I’ll have someone gather them before you arrive. 

Y/N: Okay! I’ll send a list soon. 

Y/N: I’ll see you in a few hours! :)

Jing Yuan: I’ll be counting down the seconds! 

˖⁺‧₊˚❀˚₊‧⁺˖

You weren’t one to be particularly bashful around Jing Yuan. Perhaps in the beginning when you only knew him as general of the Cloud Knights. But the more you got to know him, the less hesitancy you felt in opening up. Now, you would consider him one of your closest friends. 

A close friend who occasionally gave you butterflies and heart palpitations, naturally. 

And tonight happened to be one of those occasions. 

You haven’t been alone in Jing Yuan’s home before— Or rather, Jing Yuan’s palace is a term more befitting. Despite the vastness of his living quarters, there was an air of intimacy still present in the room. 

Jing Yuan watched as you cooked a meal for him in his kitchen, asking if he could help in some way even though you knew that man had not had to cook for himself a day in his life. You asked him to prepare some vegetables as the sides while you worked on the main dish. 

When the two of you finished, you had a smile on your face. One the Jing Yuan matched. He placed your plates on the dining table, making sure the two of you were seated side-by-side. You poured a glass of wine for him before filling up your own cup. 

“Cheers to this delicious meal made by the lovely Y/N,” said Jing Yuan with a grin, ready to toast. 

You clinked your glass against his, not breaking eye contact as you had your first sip. “With the help of the even lovelier Jing Yuan, of course.” 

“Naturally.” He smirked. His tone changed into that of a more serious one as he took a bite of the Snapper Jam. “I don’t know if I expressed it well, but I truly am grateful that you did this for me. It’s almost like I’m in Belobog myself.” 

You laughed off his compliment, knowing your dish tasted almost nothing like its Belobogian counterpart. But there was only so much you could do without the authentic ingredients. You hoped you were able to do it some justice— Enough to make it enjoyable for Jing Yuan at least. “Well, if you can’t travel the universe yet, I can at least try to bring the universe to you.” 

“You already have,” he said, “even without the food.”

Placing another bite of fish in your mouth you raised your brow in question. “How so?” 

“You’re here with me aren’t you?”

It dawned on you that he was flirting with you. In the cheesiest most poetic way possible.

A giggle escaped your lips as the realization set in. “General Jing Yuan,” you said teasingly, “if you’re not more careful with your words, I’ll start thinking you’re hitting on me.” You paused. “Unless, that is the intended implication.” 

“And if it is?” In contrast to his usually impeccable table matters, he rested his elbow on the table and propped his head on his palm, staring up at you with hooded lids. An almost cocky smile spread across his face, but his eyes shined bright and hopeful. 

“I can’t say I’d be opposed,” you said, pretending to be nonchalant about the entire thing. That didn’t last for long before you burst out into a smile, almost bouncing in your seat. “In fact, I’d be rather ecstatic if that were the case. Almost happy enough to kiss you.” 

Jing Yuan instantly straightened up at that, no longer lazily leaned over the dining table with that cool composure of his. He craned his neck sideways, examining you with his intense stare. 

“How do we get you even happier then?” he asked, gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips. “Would confirming I am flirting with you be enough to suffice?” 

You nodded, taking another sip of wine to quench your suddenly dry throat. 

“I do like you,” he said sincerely, turning in his dining chair so that he was facing you directly. “And while it may be too soon to truly say you are my universe, I have no doubts it will get to that point, if you’ll only allow it.” 

“I like you, as well,” you admitted, placing your hand on his cheek and leaning forward for a kiss. Jing Yuan’s eyes never left yours even as he reached out to cup your jaw. “And you’re well on your way to being my universe, too.”

He let out a low chuckle, brushing your lower lip with his thumb. “Then… What are we waiting for?”  

You replied simply by tilting your chin up and meeting his mouth with yours. His lips felt warm and inviting and you instantly hoped there would be more of this to come. The half-eaten food sat almost forgotten on the table, but you had more pressing matters to attend to. 

For now, all you could focus on was Jing Yuan’s lips moving against yours, his hand making its way down to the small of your back, his knee brushing against your upper thigh. 

Him, him, him.

The thoughts were all-consuming as you melted into the kiss. You wanted nothing more than to enjoy this moment with him. And you knew he felt the same. 

Slowly, you pulled away as he rested his forehead gently against yours. His golden eyes burned deep into your own and you found yourself unable to look away. 

“Wow.” Jing Yuan smiled as he licked his reddened lips. “The universe sure tastes wonderful.”

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Hi, if you're still doing poppy playtime asks, mind If I ask, how would the toys react if the player saved up a lot of money and used it to buy a remote property far from any society. When asked why the player states they're going to die one day, one day they won't be around and they need somewhere to live when for when he's no longer around to take care of them. It's remote so Noone should ever run into them, it's got plenty of food either by the river, sea, forest or simply growing in the garden. It's got plenty of rooms for each of them, they just ask that the toys take care of themselves, so when they do die they'll die knowing they'll be okay

I couldn't fit everything you said into one post because it was getting long, sorry about that. Hope you like it anyway!

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Kind of a continuation to this post.

Player who lives in a remote location

★ You got the property years ago; it's off a dirt trail far into the woods. Hard to find if you weren't actively looking for it. Could go weeks without seeing another person. You liked it, it was nice and quiet. And, conveniently, the perfect home for all the toys you could rescue.

★ It was a big adjustment for everyone. Doey, Kissy and Dogday were still shaken up over everything that had happened. Most of the mini critters seemed in good spirits, which you were thankful for. Even though the first few days were stressful, each passing day felt a bit better than the last.

★ Cartoons are constantly playing in your living room. Usually, older Disney movies or indie shows you find on YouTube. Doey tries to play peacemaker whenever an argument about what to watch breaks out.

★ Some of the smaller toys are scared of being carried away by a bird of prey. You made one joke about it, and it was taken seriously. "Watch out, or a big bird might swoop down and carry you away!" It was meant to be funny, but Bobby didn't leave the house for a good week after that.

★ The lack of light pollution makes it the perfect place to stargaze! Some of the toys who were turned at a very young age don't remember seeing stars. It's sad, but at least you can help them make up for lost time.

★ A mini-Catnap is the first to ask you “What’ll happen when you die?” It’s a heavy topic and you try not to think about it. But he has a point. What will become of everyone when you're gone? How can you prepare them for that?

★ You begin by teaching the toys basic life skills. Showing the more responsible one's cooking, the rowdy one's how to set fishing traps. And take the time to show Poppy how she can use your old sewing machine to make herself new clothes.

★ The thought of losing their protector would be unsettling. However, over time, they find solace in your home's safety and the skills you've taught them. When you're gone, everything will be okay. They have each other.

(Got the idea for some of the toys never having seen stars from this comic. Please check it out! It's really good!)

[avastrasposts]

A Baker's Dozen - Four

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

I kinda figured you all would like Joel's visit to the bakery! Handy man Joel with his green plaid flannel shirt and tool belt... 🥰

This week's Pedro boy is actually forcing me to adjust the warning level, things get a bit spicier than usual with this one around and I think you'll understand when you see who it is....

Series Master List

The little bakery is buzzing with customers this warm summer evening, you’re serving everyone as fast as possible, cursing the stomach bug that had put the kid who worked extra out of commission for the week. As you ring up two slices of lemon meringue pie for Mrs Callahan from down the street, you notice the buzz increasing in the shop, almost like a wave of excitement. You glance towards the door to see if you can spot the source of the commotion and see a tall, proud looking, man closing it behind himself. His rich yellow jacket is all you have time to notice before you’re pulled back to Mrs Jones asking about the amount of sugar in the Millionaire’s Shortbread (a lot, you assure her, no, it’s not healthy just because it contains peanuts). 

You lose track of the stranger as you work your way through the long line, finally looking up to realize he’s the only one left in the shop, except for little Mrs Levinson who is just stepping through the door. The man gallantly takes a step back and indicates with his outstretched hand that she should be served before him. 

“Please, my lady, I would be offended if you insisted on waiting behind me.” 

He has an accent that you can’t place, vaguely Mediterranean maybe, and clearly very good manners. Mrs Levinson gives him a pleased smile and steps up to the counter to buy her regular weekend dark rye loaf, six chocolate chip cookies and one whole apple and cinnamon crumb coffee cake. 

“The grandchildren are visiting on Sunday, and they love your cookies, dear,” she informs you, “the mother just doesn’t know how to bake, why my son married a woman who can’t cook or bake I will never understand.”

“I’m sure she has many other good qualities and skills, Mrs Levinson,” you smile, this is a weekly complaint. 

“He should’ve married you, dear, how you are still single is beyond me, such a talented girl in the kitchen,” she pats your hand as she hands over her purse for you to count out what she owes. “But Mrs Pike’s son is single, recently divorced, I’ll make sure she sends him here to buy something, he’s such a lovely boy.” 

“Thank you, Mrs Levinson, but I don’t need to be set up, I barely have time to run this bakery, I don’t have time for dating.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find time, my dear,” she winks at you and gives the dark haired man behind her another wink as she turns to leave. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you say to him as the door closes behind Mrs Levinson. 

“No trouble, my lady, I was more than delighted to enjoy the view of such a talented girl,” he says with a confident smile, sauntering over towards the counter. 

Now that he’s not hidden by the crowd you can see that he is in fact wearing a long robe, reaching down below his knees. But that’s not where your eyes are drawn, instead you find yourself actively trying not to stare at the deep v of bare, tan skin visible where his robe sits open, adorned by an expensive looking necklace. You pull your eyes up to his face, putting on your customer smile, and mentally slapping yourself. 

“What can I help you with today, sir?” 

At your words you see his mouth quirk in a wicked grin and his eyes wander over as much of you as he can see behind the counter. Ordinarily you’d be somewhat offended by such blatant staring but…considering your own struggle to not gawk at him, if feels admissible.

“I’m sure you can help me with a great many things, my lady,” he says, the lilt in his voice fitting his strange clothes, and the double meaning isn’t lost on you. You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms. 

“Really?” you challenge, “And what else but baked goods do you enter a bakery for?” 

“Depends on the girl, or the woman, working in the bakery,” he smirks, “when the lady of the bakery is as beautiful as you, I’d like to buy a great many other things than her cakes.” 

This line makes you roll your eyes so far back into your head you think they might get stuck there. 

“You really think coming into a bakery and suggesting prostitution to the woman who works there is going to win you any favors?” 

Now it’s the man’s turn to raise his eyebrows and look surprised for a moment, then he bends his head, bowing deeply to you. 

“My lady, I did not wish to offend you at all, I was not suggesting that I would buy any such services from you. Rather I was, badly I’m sure, suggesting that I would like to buy such a beautiful lady gifts, rather than just buying her cakes.” 

He looks up at you, his handsome face giving you an apologetic smile, “Please, truly, I did not mean to offend you.” 

“Alright, I believe you for now,” you reply, accepting his apology with a slight scowl, “So what can I help you with? In the baked goods department,” you emphasize, waving over towards the display cases. 

“I have this,” he says, pulling a bottle of wine from the satchel he has hanging at his side, “it’s cold and delicious on this warm day, but I would like to have something to eat with it. And I saw that you have these,” he points to one of the bags of lemon and almond biscotti in your display case. “They remind me of the small cakes we have back in my city, Sunspear. Will you please let me buy a bag of them?”

“Of course,” you reply, reaching for the biscotti, “Anything else?” 

“An hour of your company?” he says, smoothly, with a smile, “But I won’t offer to pay for it, just beg that you will join me with this wine, and your lovely cakes, as a small apology for offending you.” 

You look at the man standing on the other side of the counter. His confident smirk has been replaced by an apologetic smile, his arms outstretched as if he’s holding himself open for you to review and decide upon. You glance at the clock on the wall, fifteen minutes to closing but the foot traffic outside on the street has trickled down to nothing, everyone is on their way home to enjoy the last of the warm sunshine. It won’t be the end of the world if you close up a few minutes early today. And this man does intrigue you, with his accent and his strange clothes. 

“Ok, fine,” you say, “An hour, but I have no wine glasses.” 

“My sweet lady of the bakery, I’m sure I will survive without glasses, as long as I have your company to keep me distracted,” he winks at you and his demeanor changes back into confidence once again as you wave him behind the counter.

“C’mon then, we can sit out back, but only on the stairs I’m afraid.” 

“I have sat on much worse in my days, I assure you,” he chuckles, “even a prince of Dorne can’t expect to sit only on feather pillows every hour of his life.” 

“You’re a prince?” you ask but it really doesn’t surprise you. He looks every bit like a prince from some exotic country you’ve never heard of. 

“Prince Oberyn Martell, my lady,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, “It is my pleasure to meet you.” 

“Likewise, I’m sure,” you smirk, his over the top chivalry is making your inner rebel come out, and you gladly direct him to the somewhat crumbling back stairs, fishing a bottle opener out of a drawer on the way. Drinking wine from the bottle on the back stairs, overlooking the trash cans and patchy grass that lines the dingy alley behind your bakery, is probably not something a prince usually does. 

Oberyn is looking around the area outside the door as you bring the bottle opener and the biscotti. 

“Wait a moment,” he says, holding up his hand to you before he unbuckles the belt that’s holding his robe together, and dropping it on the ground. He shrugs out of the robe and shakes it out, spreading the luxurious looking fabric out over the steps and then holding out his hand for you. 

“Please, my lady,” he says, “it will be a little bit more comfortable for you than sitting on the cold stone.” 

“No, but your robe, it’ll be ruined,” you protest, but he shakes his head, “It’s nothing, just a little dust. Do not think me such a feeble prince that I am above getting a little bit dirty.” With his last word he winks at you with a smile, and you can’t help but smile back, taking his hand. 

“I don’t know what kind of prince you are, I’ve never even heard of Dorne.” 

He lets go of your hand as you settle on the top step and he sits himself on the one below, taking the bottle opener from you. 

“Dorne is a beautiful country, warm, much warmer than here, surrounded by turquoise blue ocean, white beaches and fragrant lemon groves,” he says, “And my home, the city of Sunspear, is the world’s most beautiful city, colorful, richly decorated, cooled from the hot sun by our water gardens and palm trees. It is ruled by my brother, the king. I am my father’s second son, fortunately enough for me, for I would’ve made a terrible king.” 

He smiles as he speaks of his home, a warm smile, as he pulls the cork from the wine bottle. 

“Ladies first,” he says and holds the bottle out to you, you accept it, taking a sip of the cool white wine. It really is delicious; crisp, fresh and an undertone of a rich, buttery flavor. 

“This is very nice wine,” you say, giving the bottle back to him and he smiles. 

“Made all that much better by the company.”

“Cheesy, but I appreciate the effort,” you grin and he looks confused, lowering the bottle that he was just about to drink from.  “Cheesy?” he asks, his eyebrow raised in question. 

“Yeah, you know, ‘cheesy’, when something is lame, or over the top, corny?” 

“I assure you, my lady, I did not intend to be over the top with my compliment, if anything, it was not enough,” he smiles warmly at you, and you feel butterflies in the pit of your belly. Either the wine is working very fast, or this strange man and his flirtatious way is getting to you. 

“I could say so much more about your beauty and the joy it is to spend a warm summer evening in your company with good wine and delicious cakes,” Oberyn’s eyes are glinting as he watches you squirm and he takes a sip from the bottle. 

You feel your cheeks heat up and you drop your eyes to your hands, suddenly feeling very flustered by his flattery, distracting yourself by picking at some dry dough caught on your nail. 

“Oh, the biscuits!” he exclaims suddenly and stands up, “We need just a…” he disappears into the kitchen and you look up as he turns around, scanning the shelves before he finds what he’s looking for, “Ah! Just what we need!” he says and returns to the steps, sinking down next to you again with a small bowl in his hand. “The biscuits are to be dipped in the wine, to soak up its delicious flavor and blend with the sweetness.” 

He demonstrates by pouring some of the wine into the bowl and taking the bag of biscuits from you, opening it up. He takes one of the biscotti and dips the end in the wine, letting it sit for a few seconds before taking a bite. 

His eyes hold yours as he slowly chews the biscotti, humming slightly under his breath.  “My sweet lady, this is exquisite,” he says, awe in his voice once he’s swallowed. “I would hire you as my own personal baker any day, would you wish to leave these premises.” 

“Thank you for the offer, that’s very generous,” you say, taking one of the biscuits and dipping it in the wine, copying Oberyn, “but I like running my own business.” 

As you bite into the biscotti you hold back a moan, you’ve never tried this before but now you understand why he insisted, the crunchy biscotti has softened slightly and been filled with the crips flavors of the wine, the lemon and almond adding to the complexity. 

“This is really good, Oberyn,” you smile, taking the second half, “Thank you for introducing me to it.” 

“It was all my pleasure, my lady,” he replies, leaning back against the stairs and taking a sip of the wine from the bottle. When he tilts his head back, his long neck is exposed, even more now when he’s only wearing his shirt, a smattering of freckles on his tanned skin, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. It occurs to you that the man exudes confidence in everything he does, even the way he brings the bottle back down, handing it to you with a small, crooked smile, the way he’s leaning on one elbow against the step just above him, long legs stretched out comfortably in his soft looking leather boots, utterly relaxed even on the crumbling back stairs. 

You take the bottle from him and take another sip, the cool wine slipping down far too easily. From the corner of your eye you see Oberyn take another biscotti and dip it into the wine, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. With a small smirk he puts the biscuit in his mouth, closing his soft looking lips around it, sucking lightly while he lets his eyes linger on you. You feel heat creep up your throat, there is such promise in his eyes, such a challenge in his flirting. It’s like he’s daring you to flirt back, to push him just a little to see how he reacts. You feel a familiar heat spread through your core, a temptation to entice him. But his confidence, just the way he takes the bottle from your hand, his long fingers caressing yours with intent, almost intimidates you. If you flirt with him, even just a little bit, you think he might challenge you even more, see how far you’re willing to go, and you’re not sure you can trust your body to resist. His easy assertiveness, the way he leans back against the stairs, his hand now resting just an inch from your waist, it both unnerves you and makes arousal thrum under your skin. 

With a slight tremble to your hand, you take the bottle again and take another sip, bigger this time and it goes down the wrong way, your nerves getting the better of you. With a cough you splutter into the crook of your elbow, your eyes watering. The prince shoots up and immediately puts his hand on your back, patting you lightly a few times before he begins to rub circles between your shoulder blades. 

“Careful there, my lady, are you all right?” His eyebrows have pulled together in concern and he leans forward, looking at your face. You feel the tears that formed spill over and roll down your cheeks as you cough a few more times. 

“Y-yes, yes, I-I think so, thank you,” you finally say with a croaky voice, “it just went down the wrong way.” 

Taking a deep breath, you almost choke again when Oberyn gently cups your face with his large hands and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, softly running them under your eyes. 

“Can I fetch you some water?” he asks, his voice low and concerned, but you shake your head. 

“No, thank you, I’m ok now,” you say, taking a steadying breath. He’s so very close now, looking into your eyes with a soft smile and you notice how one of his eyes is made amber by the evening sunlight, the other dark chocolate brown, half hidden in shadow. You feel like your brain is spinning in place, wheels turning but not moving forward, as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from his intense gaze. His hands are still on your cheeks, warm and soft even though you can feel the rough calluses on his palms. 

His eyes finally leave yours, only to very slowly move down to your lips, holding his gaze there for several seconds before he looks back up again. His face transforms into a more roguish smile and he drops his hands from your face, moving to pick up another biscotti and dipping it into the wine. 

“My lady, please,” he says, holding it up to you, one hand cupped under it to catch any drops of wine, as he offers it to you, holding it by your lips. 

You don’t know why, but you obediently open your mouth, letting him feed you the biscotti, tasting the tang of the wine and the sweetness of the sugar as you break it off in the middle. The tip of Oberyn’s tongue comes out to wet his lips as he watches you swallow it down, and then he dips the second half in the wine again, and places it between his own lips. All the while his eyes never leave yours. 

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a crooked smile, and he leans back against the door frame, crossing his arms over his lap. 

“I would kiss you, if you asked me too,” he says, matter of factly, “if you want me too.” 

You reach for the wine bottle to distract yourself while you calm your beating heart, keeping your eyes on him, that smirk still lingering on his lips as he watches you take a small, controlled sip, this time. 

You pour some more wine into the bowl and place the bottle on the top step, reaching for another biscotti and making up your mind. Dipping the delicate biscuit in the wine you look up at Oberyn, holding his gaze while you bring it up to his mouth, mimicking his gesture of cupping your hand under it. A wicked smile flickers across his face as he obediently opens his mouth and takes the biscotti. But he doesn’t bite it in half, instead he leans forward and closes his lips around your fingertips, his tongue licking at them as he takes the whole thing into his mouth. It’s warm and wet around your fingers and he gently sucks on them as he pulls back, a low hum escaping his throat. The touch of his tongue shoots a jolt of electricity through your body, settling firmly between your legs and your breath hitches. 

Oberyn swallows the biscuit and takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth again, with his eyes locked on yours he takes each finger between his lips and sucks them clean. When your pinky leaves his lips he moves forward, taking your chin between  his thumb and finger, holding you steady, your heart beating its own erratic rhythm in your chest. 

“I would kiss you, if you asked me too,” he repeats, looking from your eyes to your lips and up again. 

You don’t trust your voice, so instead you inhale, his warm scent; oranges, cinnamon, sandalwood, filling your nose, and you lean forward. He doesn’t smile this time, instead he mirrors your movement until your lips brush, your heads tilting ever so slightly to come closer together, mouths angeling as he presses a soft, gentle, explorative kiss to your tingling lips. Warm hands slip up your neck, into your hair, large enough to cup the back of your head as his thumbs stroke your cheeks. 

His next kiss is more insistent, his lips parting to taste with the tip of his soft tongue, licking the seam of your mouth. Your body seems to have lost all will to follow your head, it just moves as he moves you, pulling you closer to his lips, opening up to his tongue, letting him slip inside and explore, tangelling together as he tangles his hands in your hair, making you lean closer into him. Without knowing how you got there, you find yourself sitting on his lap, his hand finding your thigh and pulling your leg over. When he puts his hands on your hips and slides your body closer to his, your mind goes blank and you moan into his mouth. He’s distinctly hard underneath you, the thin fabric of his trousers doing nothing to hide the firm length of his cock, and he groans with delight as you roll your hips over him. 

“Sweet thing,” he whispers, his lips momentarily leaving yours, “sweet, sweet lady, I knew your kisses would be as sweet as your cakes.” His fingers dig into your hips, his mouth pressing firmer against yours as he sucks on the tip of your tongue, pulling back just a fraction and trailing kisses and bites over your jaw, down your throat, pushing back your t-shirt to suck a mark into your collar bone, making you keen and whimper under his warm mouth. 

“I wonder if you’re as sweet everywhere,” he mumbles, fingers digging into your hips and dragging you over his heavy length, straining against his trousers, “I would very much like to find out.” 

You lean your head back, exposing your throat to him as he continues to kiss and lick the soft skin of your neck, heat is building rapidly in your body and for a second you feel as if you’re looking down on yourself from above. Straddling the handsome prince on the stairs, sitting on his golden yellow robe, his face buried against your neck, his hands rolling your hips over his erection as you pant to the darkening sky above. With a groan you put your hands on his shoulders and push away, stumbling back onto your feet. 

“You’re dangerous to be around, Oberyn,” you pant as his hands slip away from your hips. His mouth hangs open as he reaches for you. In the dimming light you can see the prominent bulge of his trousers, it makes your mouth water, the image of sliding down over it coming unbidden to your mind. 

“It’s just pleasure,” he says, his voice dark and mischievous, “no guilt to be had over feeling pleasure.” 

“No, but I’m not about to have sex with a stranger on the back steps of my bakery,” you say, taking a deep breath, running your hands over your head, down your face, to ground yourself again. 

“Well, then the question beckons to be asked,” Oberyn grins, “where would you have sex with a stranger?” 

“I don’t have sex with strangers,” you say, shaking your head and quickly stepping past him, into the kitchen again. Behind you, you hear him get up and pick up the bottle, the remaining biscuits and the bowl. Placing them on the counter inside the door he follows you out to the shop as he slips his robe back on, where you unlock the door and wait for him to approach. A big part of you doesn't want him to leave, but you know that if you let him stay, he’ll have you naked on one of the counters within minutes, your body will betray you and let him do whatever he wants. 

“If you let me, I would like to not be a stranger to you,” Oberyn says as he reaches you by the door, “Would you let me come back and take you out, maybe show you Sunspear, my city?” 

“Show me the life of a prince?” you ask, you doubt you’ll see him again once he leaves, “Sure, come back and show me another side of yourself, and I’ll consider whether or not I want you to be a stranger.” 

“You don’t think I’ll come back,” he replies, a crooked smile on his lips, “have I made such a flighty impression on you, such a poor representation of who I am?” He chuckles, taking your hand and bowing low, pressing a feather light kiss to it. 

“I promise, my sweet lady of the bakery, I will come back and I will show you the true colors of a prince of Dorne. Until then I will keep your honeyed kisses close in my memory.”

He opens the front door and steps through it, before turning and smiling back at you, “And I’ll keep your delicious moans even closer on lonely nights.” 

You feel heat rise in your cheeks again as he winks, a mischievous smirk on his face, before he bow lows again and disappears down the street. 

Part Five

Tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3  @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn

[youroriginalsublimecupcakestuff]

The ADA end up in debt to kunikida despair either because they end up in a lawsuit ( for exemple it's because someone older tried to hit on naomi or insulted her but jun'ichiro and yosano we're here the problem is that they're was a journalist nearby or others reason that put the agency in legal trouble ( someone can also sue ranpo in defamation for exemple) or kunikida, the clercs, yosano and kyouka we're away from the agency from a week when they come back ranpo and dazai tried to cook and the dorm is on fire and the agency have to pay the reperation, the agency is also put in charge of repaying dazai debt .

A string of bad Luck after back luck happen again and again and trouble keep following the agency ( turn out that one of dazai ex hired a foreigner known to be able to curse anyone that he want to called lemony snicket to kunikida annoyance who have to be stopped to commit a murder by atsushi as even nullifying the ability didn't erase the debt.)

By the end of this cursed week several agency members are temporary homeless and they have to stay with several peoples that they know still troubles keep following and it was in a last recourse as even poe couldn't help them anymore that kunikida ended up trusting dazai with their housing plan .

Atsushi have a bad feeling about it he fear that dazai will lead them to akutagawa appartment ( so much that he nearly accepted kyouka offer to stay with her to ozaki kouyou)

Which he regretted when dazai took them to a building in a district that the mafia control, they had to escape from dogs as well of traps, and a dangerous fogs amongst others security systems.

Then when they finally could enter kunikida was ready to leave , they had enough legal trouble for a year they're no way that dazai know someone who live in one of the most luxurious building in the city even if he was in the mafia.

Still they enter the lion den ( with some of them weighting the pro and con of staying with yosano or the tanizaki siblings) only to be faced with the one and only nakahara who somehow managed to be menacing with fish slipper and a long shirt with a mackerel and a crab drawing as well of an odasaku man pyjama pants.

After solving a misunderstanding ( and silencing an annoyed dazai as nakahara san was having way too much fun with the situation, neither of them find it funny but dazai san intervention only manage to make it more troublesome ( and traumatising they really don't want to witness dazai san trying to bite his supposed rival) , he agree to let them stay with him while they try to pay back all their debt as he find it fun to see all the way that dazai would have to work to repay the money as he was bored as ozaki kouyou' and the port mafia boss forced him to go on vacation.

Everyone work hard with their commission ( even chuuya as ranpo , dazai and yosano and naomi all make him join in their shenaningan to his loud protests) , they even accept commission from the mafia ( beggars can't be chosers as they say and the offers from the mafia is too good to refuse but it's carefully veted so that nothing is illegal) , with detective work they also become handyman doing several work ( even dazai's suggestions of a host club to kunikida despair ( he swear that he only proposed that to annoy both him and nakahara).

They discovered some surprising things like what do you say dazai and nakahara are married ? What do you mean the akutagawa siblings are in their family registry ? ( at that revelation and to a smug akutagawa ryuunosuke who appeared out of nowhere nakajima atsushi promptly denied being jealous) . More importantly dazai can work properly when motivated without being lazy ? ( At that kunikida cried when he saw the miracle of all the paperwork that dazai accumulated since joining the ADA being properly filled by dazai and he tearfully welcomed a surprised chuuya to the family), he know the concept of domestic work ? He can cook ??? How ????

After hard work, numerous shenaningan and plenty of bonding as well of mating rituals but soukoku editions, all debt we're paid to kunikida reliefs and chuuya even got a lawyer who accepted to work with them as a favor to him.

Now they just have join ozaki kouyou and Paul Verlaine efforts to convaince dazai and nakahara to have a proper wedding ceremony ( those two are still mad that they got married while Verlaine was attacking the mafia with only oda sakunosuke, shirase bushido ( to dazai protest) , a detective named Adam , the akutagawa siblings,the flags, a detective called murase and a disaproving ango sakaguchi being here (16th is too young to be married dazai).

( dazai had to run for their wrath to save his precious family jewel ( his excuses that it was just a bet didn't work as they got married and divorced so many times but never had a proper wedding ( some guest changed they're was chuuya friends from the dragon head conflict in one of the wedding , some guest stayed the same) , some wedding didn't have guest like the one in Vegas which was just between Elvis Presley and them but one things is sure they never stayed divorced too longs.

Even dazai left the mafia and even if this marriage may or may not be illegal in so many way , it doesn't change that they have each others .

[redtsundere-writes]

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen

Chapter 6 “Harvest Season” is available now!

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

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AO3 or Wattpad?

Preview ↆ

“Welcome to this year's harvest. Thanks to your relatives or communities, you have been chosen as the most useless beings of this year. So the great king Sukuna has decided to give you the opportunity to work for him as servants,” The person began to read the scroll aloud in front of everyone. 

A collective sigh was heard when he read the word “useless”. Most of them, being elderly, already knew that they were only a burden to their families. Therefore, there was no need to stress it further. It was like squeezing lemon on an open wound. 

“As every year, we give those who are completely useless a chance to leave. King Sukuna needs real servants and not stupid dogs.” Along with that announcement, the castle gates opened.

There it was, the door that would lead them to freedom right under their noses. Hearing that, most of them ran towards their escape route, desperate to return home to their loved ones. You took the child in your arms and were about to run away until the thought that the offer was too good to be true settled in your mind. “Those who go in, never come back” you thought. 

“Come on, dear, let's go,” the kind old woman asked you while she pulled you by the arm to escape quickly. 

“If they do this every year, why doesn't anyone come back home?” You asked her. “It's a trap, I can feel it.” The old woman looked at you puzzled at first, but understood your point after processing it for a couple of seconds. She was so blinded by the brilliant exit that she hadn't boasted about it. 

Once the first to escape was about to reach the door, the grille slammed shut. The evil laughter of hundreds of curses echoed through the place like a war chant. In less than a second, a gigantic flock of armored curses began to eat all those who were about to flee. A massacre, desperate screams and blood spraying everywhere. You had never seen anything like it in your life. You knew the curses were evil and ate humans, but you never thought it would be such a disastrous sight. You covered the child’s eyes. The lady covered her face as she realized the hell they had been sent to. 

“Traitor dogs do not deserve to live,” the white-haired person said as soon as no human who had tried to escape was left alive. 

“You were right…” the old woman whispered next to you between silent sobs. 

You looked back at the front of the castle while your eyes were still drowning in tears. The person who was summoning you was glaring at you, as if offended by your mere presence. You looked around, less than half had stayed. The other elders were crying, vomiting and some lucky ones hadn't even turned around to see what was happening. Your arms were shaking from the cold of the morning and the terror that consumed you whole. You squeezed the child against your body to protect it. A little creature was not to blame for being in a place like that. You had to protect him, it was the only way he would have a chance to survive. 

“I congratulate you for surviving the first round. My name is Uraume, and I am the right hand of your king, Sukuna Ryomen,” they introduced themselves in a loud, monotone voice so that we could all hear them. “Next you will introduce yourselves to the king. He will have the final word as to your fate,” they explained before returning to the castle. 

Open fanfic commissions!

Masterlist.

[buckys-arm-and-rios-dagger]

A Work of Art

Bucky x Artist!GN!Reader

Description: when Bucky is feeling Self-conscious about his scars, you decide to do something that shows him how you see his body

Warnings: fluff with a little hint of angst, self conscious!Bucky, established relationship, Soft!Bucky, not beta'd, rushed writing

A/N: this is a quick one, the idea came to me while waiting for a doctor's appointment and needed to write it down. I love the idea, I'm not sure how I feel about the writing of it, but I hope you enjoy!

((18+ only below the cut please and thank you!!)) 

It starts late at night, when you're getting ready to lay down with your boyfriend

Bucky settled down beside you, and you went to wrap your arms around him, hugging him from behind and pressing a kiss to his cheek 

You went to slip your hand under his shirt to rub his stomach, something you know he loves, but Bucky flinches away from you. 

“What's wrong, Sweetheart?” You asked gently, “are you alright?”

He shrugged, rolling over so that he was facing you

“Jus’ having a rough time with…everything,” he murmured, “with the scars.”

You nodded, not wanting to push him 

Bucky got like this sometimes. When he was deep in his own head and his depression got the best of him, he'd suddenly become hyper-aware of the scars on his skin, of the permanent reminders of the abuse that he had endured. 

When he got like this he would shy away from everyone's touch, even yours, convinced that no one could truly accept and love him as he was

“Bucky…” you whispered, cupping his face, “Sweetheart…” 

“You don't have to act like you like them,” he cut you off, “they're disgusting. I know that. You don't have to lie to me, Doll. I know.” 

“It's not lying, Buck,” you brushed your thumb over his cheekbone, stroking the scar that ran there, “I mean it. Your scars show how brave you are. They're a part of you. And I love you. Every part of you.”

He'd hummed, eventually letting you hold him and rub his back, but you could tell he still didn't believe it. 

 If he wasn't going to believe you when you told him he was beautiful, then maybe you could show him

It broke your heart, not knowing how to make him see that you thought he was perfect. 

This brought you to your brilliant plan

You were working on your commissions when the idea hit you for his anniversary present.

 You didn't need a reference photo, you knew his body so well you could do it from memory

It was difficult to find time to work on it between commissions and having to quickly hide it away when Bucky came home, but you manage to get it done a few days before the big day

In no small part because Bucky was out on a week long mission and wasn't home so you had time to work on it 

Cut to the big night, it's after Bucky cooked you a very nice dinner

You were seated on the couch, admiring the way his dog tags looked around your neck (his present to you), waiting for him to finish the dishes

He'd shooed you off when you tried to help him because “it's your night Doll, you're not lifting a finger” 

You'd tried to argue that it was both of your anniversary, but he'd insisted

 When he finally sat down you pushed the wrapped present into his hands, smiling widely

 “Go on, open it!” You exclaimed. 

He chuckled at your excitement, his eyes widening when he saw your gift It was one of your embroidery projects, mounted on wood and framed by the hoop.

 On it is his body from the waist up, front and back, carefully recreated

 Each of his scars satin stitched on with gold thread and expert precision.

 It reminded him of the art exhibition you and him had attended when you'd first started dating, showing pottery that had been repaired with flakes of gold. his metal arm was lovingly recreated with perfect accuracy down to each of the golden veins that run through it

 Underneath it, carefully cross-stitched in Navy blue are the words “EVERY INCH OF YOU IS A WORK OF ART”

 Bucky stared at the piece with wide eyes, his jaw slack. 

His silence was making you nervous. 

Did you overstep a boundary? Did he think that you were putting his insecurities on blast? 

You placed a hand on his leg when you saw his eyes filling with tears, stroking your thumb along it

“Oh, Bucky,” you cooed, “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad, I just wanted you to see yourself how I see you–”

 He enveloped you in a bone-crushing hug, pulling you to his chest. 

You were shocked, to say the least, but wrapped your arms around him, hugging back and running a hand through his hair

He held you tight for a moment more before pulling back

 “I-I’m not… you didn't make me feel bad,” you reached up to thumb the tears that had fallen down his cheek, “these are good tears. I… I love it, Doll. It's beautiful.”

 “I'm glad you think it's beautiful.  I wanted you to get a glimpse into how I see you,” you pressed your lips against his, “you’re beautiful, Bucky.”

He pulled you into a deep kiss, gentle and full of love

One gesture like this wasn't enough to destroy the demons in his mind, he knew that.

 But now, running his fingers along the  stitches, your loving, careful, incredible recreation of his body? 

Maybe he can start to see himself the way you do.