#unusual uses of lemons

[excelingtips]

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[greenglowinspooks]

To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound

Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.

He can see ghosts.

The ghosts know this.

Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.

Except for this one very stubborn dog.

It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?

And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.

He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.

Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.

Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.

Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.

Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.

And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.

(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)

Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.

Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.

And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.

(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)

Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.

Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.

Cue shitstorm.

Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?

Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.

Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.

Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.

Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.

Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.

Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!

Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.

You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?

Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.

He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.

And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.

The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.

Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.

A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.

Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.

And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.

[tojisun]

!! it’s very silly and unserious and the only reason it’s long is because it’s so vivid in my head. unedited as hell </3

nosy neighbours tf 141 got me giggling. and it’s not even inherently sexy nor attractive, it’s really just them being in people’s (or a person’s) business.

thinking about how, in retirement, they still bought a house together because it’s so odd to have separate lives. and so they bought one in the suburbs, with five bedrooms and four baths, and a really big backyard. kyle picked up gardening so the backyard was not just a plus but a damn requirement.

so they move in, not giving a damn about that one old WASP couple across the street watching them all with a sneer because apparently moving in with your mates is unusual. well, whatever. fuck them.

then they meet their new neighbour. you’re single—divorced, price would tell them later—whose life is centred around your 9 to 5 job at an office in the city which you wake up at 5am for.

you leave the house at 6:30am and then amble back home when it’s pushing 8pm. it’s a boring life; a boring routine. not even your little front lawn of cared-for wild flowers managed to hold their attention longer than a day.

so with that said, they’d like to go on a record and say that it’s all johnny’s fault.

friday evening, he started the game by saying, “she bought a baguette.” he paused. “and a bottle? it's shaped like lube?”

john blinked, setting his book down. “what.”

mactavish shrugged, still peering from the crack in the curtains. kyle walked in then, his apron all dirtied. “hey, i’m craving a baguette.”

johnny laughed and looked at price like price was supposed to get something from that. of course he didn’t, but johnny’s always been good at carrying the momentum so, to no one’s surprise, he repeats the observation three days after the previous one.

“bag’o coal and lemon bread. what the hell.”

“that’s a disgusting dinner combo,” kyle chirps, switching the channels.

simon throws a pillow at him because he had been watching a documentary about moths when kyle changed the program without asking him.

“it’s just monday,” john finally replies, cementing his participation in the game. “why’s she buying lem—did she not grocery shop?”

johnny looks at him, wide-eyed. “that’s a good question, sir.” then he turns, ignoring them again to peer at their neighbour. john’s sure you’re back in your home so he really doesn’t know what johnny’s watching at that point.

simon was successful at wrestling the remote control back to him, and the program’s returned to the moths.

.

thursday evening, two and a half weeks after monday’s lemon bread and bag of coal, the game picks up again.

“who the hell makes a rug purchase during the weekdays?” kyle asks, his voice teetering between fascination and concern.

“how long’s the rug?” johnny replies, all of them watching as kyle stands in front of that slip of window they now use for ‘bird watching.’

kyle spreads his arms out—2.5 ft.

“huh,” johnny says. “for the toilet, you reckon?”

“probably for the cat, actually,” simon cuts in.

“what cat.” john doesn’t even know who asked that, but really—what cat?

“a round thing,” simon answers. “grey fur.”

“aww,” johnny croons. “that’s cute.”

john sighs and turns back to the morning paper’s crossword puzzle for the day.

.

you don’t join the neighbourhood’s annual summer barbecue party much to their disappointment. although, in all fairness, john understands your decision because they wouldn’t have gone to it anyway had they not found out that the host this year was going to be that WASP couple who still sneered at them every chance they get.

the wife, of course, couldn’t turn them away in front of the other neighbours who particularly loved kyle and, shockingly, simon so there they are, eating what is begrudgingly some good ribs while listening to the neighbourhood gossip.

and while each story was riveting, nothing could honestly hold a candle to their ‘bird’ and your peculiar grocery runs.

.

one evening, you come home with a man. john tells them it’s your ex-husband, admitting to them that yes, he’s now used up their once-a-month pass to accessing ‘special’ resources with regards to finding more about you.

“think they’re fuckin’?” johnny asks, no longer feigning disinterest.

kyle groans because it had been more than a minute now since johnny dropped a card from his stack; they tried their best to be patient as they waited, thinking mactavish needed more time since, apparently, he’s never played cards before—growing up as a catholic boy, he’s always been told that any form of gambling was a gateway to eternal damnation.

john didn’t have the heart to tell him that you didn’t have to make bets to be able to play cards.

“maybe,” simon replies, ignoring kyle’s angry grumbling. “why else would she bring him home? her house ain’t really a wonder.”

“…how do you know that?” kyle asks, his words measured and slowed.

simon blinks, then he sniffs, before looking away.

“hey!” mactavish screams, catching on. “we agreed no tampering with anythin’ of ‘ers!”

“yeah? well tell ‘at to cap’n too—he was already there when i broke in.”

johnny turns to him with a theatrical betrayed look. kyle drops his head on the table because the game’s been fully abandoned now.

“sir,” johnny says, his voice airy like he’s speaking mid-gasp. “you didn’t.”

john licks the back of his teeth, then, “jus’ wanted to see ‘er cat, s’all.”

.

the ex-husband leaves three hours later with a familiar rug tucked to his side.

.

“huh,” simon murmurs, his voice so faint that john almost missed it. “tulips and tuna today.”

johnny and kyle would’ve loved the update but the two are away for the week.

john messages it to the group chat.

suds (19:21)

> holy shit she’s improving.

.

oddly enough, it took them six months since they moved in for them to finally talk to you.

or, well, for you to talk to them.

“i’m havin’ a yard sale tomorrow,” you say after the introductions have passed, your lips tugged up in a shy smile.

john honestly couldn’t even remember how he used to envision you—old age caught up to him and for a whole while, you were nothing but a coloured blob in his eyes since they turned out to be more damaged than expected—but whatever that had been was erased the moment you stood before them.

shy and awkward, your back slouched just a little like you’re trying to curl into yourself in the face of their rapt attention, but even then you’re beautiful.

“yeah?” kyle asks, smiling; the first to break out of the trance you put them into. “and would y’need help, pretty miss?”

“oh, you,” you murmur, strained laughter peeling from your lips. “and yeah, i do. would that be alright? i tried moving my old couch downstairs and my back almost gave out. i swear, i thought i was going to see the lord today.”

johnny laughs, loud and booming. “well we’re glad that you didn’t die today, otherwise who would take care of little truffle, huh?”

john barely stopped himself from heaving out a loud sigh, an attempt made more challenging when he caught the way kyle whirled his head to glare at mactavish, the act not any less subtle since it startled you too. simon grumbles something incoherent—it’s lost amidst johnny’s petering laugh and your swelling horror.

“…how, exactly, do you know my cat’s name?”

[chibinasuu]

Date? | Zoro x Reader

Summary: Zoro asked you out on a date. (You thought it was just an errand run at the market)  Tags: fluff, pre-relationship, first date(?), GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

a/n: happy birthday zoro!! this is not a birthday-centric fic, just wanted to write something fluffy for the birthday boy :)

You sat on one of the swings on the main deck of the Thousand Sunny, gently swaying as you waited for Zoro. As the minutes ticked by, you started impatiently glancing at the door to the boys’ room. 

It was taking Zoro unexpectedly long to get ready today when he usually only needed less than five minutes to throw on whatever non-wrinkled, semi-clean clothes he could find strewn around beneath his hammock. 

“Want to go to the market with me today? Just us two?” was what Zoro asked you this morning. Of course, you said yes without a second thought. It wasn’t unusual for you to accompany Zoro on errand runs whenever you docked at a new island – it seemed the crew had appointed you as his (un)official chaperone, tasked with ensuring the directionally challenged swordsman could find his way back to the ship at the end of the day. With that being said, you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy every single second you got to be alone with your green-haired crewmate.

The Sunny was currently docked at a small, but lively harbor town. Nami already scoped out the area this morning, and she reported that, thankfully, there were no marine bases here, so the crew could spend the next three days in peace while waiting for the log pose to set.

Some muffled bickering came from inside the boys’ room and you were straining your ears to hear what they were saying when the door suddenly swung open. Zoro was quickly shoved out of the room by a pair of hands you recognized as Usopp’s, and a telltale flash of blonde hair, before the door slammed shut, told you that the cook was also in on… whatever this was. 

You looked at the man in front of you, his green hair still slightly damp from a bath (he took a bath?) but combed neatly. He was wearing a black, slightly oversized, short-sleeved shirt – unbuttoned over a white tank top – paired with some light blue jeans. 

You could only gape in awe, genuinely taken aback at the sight of him actually dressing up for once, but at your silence, Zoro stiffened and did a one-eighty, reaching for the doorknob, “I’m gonna go change.”

You touched his arm lightly to stop him, “No, don’t.”

He turned to face you again, and you placed your hand on his shoulder as you admitted, “You look really great. It suits you.”

The tips of Zoro’s ears turned red at your compliment. A breeze suddenly picked up, bringing about faint traces of lemon and eucalyptus… Was he wearing cologne?

You couldn’t help but lean towards him, inching your nose closer to his neck to catch another whiff of the lovely aroma. As if reading your thoughts, Zoro said, “Usopp sprayed it on me before I could get away.”

Ah, so that’s why the scent was familiar. You’ve smelled it on the sniper a few times before, but on Zoro, the cologne smelled slightly different, tinged with a scent that was so uniquely him. 

“Well, you smell fantastic.” You reassured him. “Shall we go?”

The walk to the market was brief, with you and Zoro strolling side-by-side in companionable silence. As the hustle and bustle of the market came within sight, you nudged him and asked, “What did you need from the market, by the way?”

“I didn’t really need anything in particular,” He thought for a bit, “But I guess I’m running low on sword polish.”

After Zoro made a quick purchase at the arms shop, you two wandered around the market with no directions in mind, stopping at whichever stall caught your eye. 

An old lady sat behind one, carefully weaving a bracelet out of thin, colorful threads. Her table was filled with more of her creations, each of them with unique patterns and color combinations. You picked one that you thought was the prettiest, admiring the intricate details of the different shades of green mingling to create a mesmerizing design. You checked the price tag and put it back down. As much as you wanted it, you really needed to restrain yourself. You told yourself you didn’t need another accessory – not when you just purchased a pricey silver necklace at the last island. 

A few stalls down was a table laden with vials and bottles of all sizes, and you excitedly dragged Zoro by the sleeve towards it. 

“Welcome, welcome!” The owner of the kiosk greeted you, “We have fragrances of every kind here – even imported oils from Alabasta! Do you have any particular scent you prefer?”

“Oh, it’s not for me!” You smiled before jerking your thumb at your companion, “I want to find something for him.”

“Well, take a look around.” He gestured to the samples, “I’m sure we can find something suitable for your boyfriend.”

You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you frantically waved your hand, while Zoro was similarly flustered.

“He’s not–”

“We’re not–, I mean–”

The two of you gave up explaining as the man profusely apologized for making inappropriate assumptions. After you assured him that it was fine, he began putting drops of the different fragrant oils on small pieces of paper and handed them to you. You sniffed each of them, bringing the ones you found interesting up to Zoro’s nose. All of the scents were alluring in their own ways, but one in particular stood out to you. It opened with a fresh burst of bergamot, layered with a spicy rush of cardamom and a hint of green tea. 

“How’s this?” You offered the paper to Zoro.

He took a cautious sniff, and his eyebrow raised ever so slightly. Zoro was never really into colognes or perfumes, but he was surprised at how much he actually liked the scent you picked for him.

He nodded and you beamed, turning towards the merchant, “We’ll take this one!”

As the man filled a vial with the fragrant oil, you reached into your pocket for some Berries, but Zoro’s hand on your wrist stopped you, “You don’t have to–“

“I know.” You cut him off, “But I want to.”

You grinned at him, “You can wear it the next time we hang out, so you don’t have to borrow Usopp’s.”

A smile slowly crept up Zoro’s lips, “Thanks.” 

The merchant was wrapping up the glass vial when Zoro tapped you on the shoulder, “Hey, I need to go to the restroom. Wait here for a minute.”

Before you could stop him, he was gone. 

Your heart dropped. If there was one rule to going anywhere with Zoro, it was to never let him out of your sight.

You quickly handed some coins to the merchant and began searching in the direction that Zoro went, standing on your tiptoes to look over the crowd in hopes of catching sight of that familiar green. You were just starting to descend into a panic when a hand suddenly grabbed yours. 

“I’m right here,” Zoro said softly into your ear.

You smacked him lightly on the chest, “Don’t run off like that again! You scared me!”

“Sorry,” He grinned, before shrugging and saying nonchalantly, “But you know what, I don’t know how but I could always find my way back if it’s to you.”

You wondered if he knew the effect he had on you.

Your grip on his hand tightened just a little bit. You knew he was just holding your hand so you wouldn’t lose each other in this crowded market, but you couldn’t prevent your pulse from quickening at the feeling of his strong hand in yours. It certainly didn’t help that he didn’t let go even after you left the market and the crowd behind you. 

You caught a glimpse of a massive flower field at the edge of town and tugged Zoro’s hand to grab his attention, “Nami heard that field’s a popular picnic spot for the locals. Sure looks pretty, doesn’t it?”

“Wanna check it out?” 

You looked at the field longingly before shaking your head, “It’s getting late, maybe tomorrow. We should probably head back to the ship for dinner soon.” 

“Actually,” Zoro said, “I was thinking we could try out one of those restaurants in town, if you’re up for it?”

You were surprised at Zoro’s suggestion – he was normally the type to return to the ship as early as possible and take a good, long nap after a day out – but you agreed to it nonetheless. When else would you get a chance to dine with your swordsman, just the two of you?

The restaurant Zoro took you to was a quaint place, but the food they served was beyond your expectations. Zoro was unusually talkative throughout dinner, and you couldn’t say that you didn’t adore this side of him. You two laughed and chatted through bites of steaks and sips of beer, and then dinner was over before you realized, far sooner than you would’ve liked. 

The walk back to the ship was also shorter than you remembered. As you walked beside Zoro, fingers brushing in featherlight touches, you had to resist the temptation of linking your fingers with his. The night was getting chillier and you would give anything to feel his warm hand in yours again, but you know you shouldn’t. This was just a friendly outing anyway – you wouldn’t want him to think that you got the wrong idea, or worse, what if he rejected your advances?

Zoro walked you all the way to the door of your quarters, “Did you have fun today?”

“I did.” You smiled up at him, “Best day I had in a while, to be honest.”

All of a sudden, Zoro took your wrist and slipped something onto it, “A return gift. For the perfume oil you bought me.” 

Your heart skipped a beat when you noticed that it was the green woven bracelet that you admired earlier. He must’ve gotten it when you were briefly separated at the market.  

“Oh, Zoro,” You leaped toward him, bringing your arms around his neck and enveloping him in a big hug, “Thank you!” 

Zoro’s arms tentatively wrapped around your waist and you melted into his embrace. You leaned back and brought your wrist with the bracelet to beside his head, giggling as you noted, “It matches your hair.” 

Zoro’s expression was unreadable as he gazed at you, and then, without warning, he leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your cheek. You froze at the sudden act, your smile dropping in shock. Your heart was pounding faster than ever, and your fingers unconsciously went to the spot where you could still feel the touch of his chapped lips.  

Zoro mistook your surprised reaction as rejection and immediately dropped his arms from your waist, stepping backward as he brought his palm to his forehead, “Sorry, fuck, I shouldn’t have taken that dumb cook’s advice.”

“Huh?” You voiced, still in a daze and not understanding a bit of what he was saying, “What advice? What’s Sanji got to do with this?”

He hesitated, before admitting in a small voice, “He said a kiss on the cheek would be okay for a first date. If it went well.”

“D-date?” You asked in confusion, “Are you telling me today was a date?”

Zoro ran his hand through his hair in frustration, “Well, what the hell did you think it was then?”

“I thought it was just one of our usual errand runs!” You stammered out, before jabbing your pointer finger on his chest accusingly, “You didn’t say it was a date!”

After belatedly realizing that he, in fact, did not, Zoro flushed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Uh, I did say it would only be the two of us?”

You blinked, still processing his words and this absurd miscommunication.

“You know what, forget it.” Zoro's face was bright red as he began walking away from you in the direction of the crow’s nest, “Good night.”

“No, wait. Zoro.” You caught him by his hand, before placing yourself in front of him. “It was a really nice day.”

He refused to look at you, but you placed your hand on his chin, guiding his eyes to yours, “But if you wanted to ask me on a date, maybe you could’ve been a little more… explicit?”

You laughed in embarrassment as you gestured at your casual t-shirt and shorts, “Gosh, look at me! I would’ve dressed up better!”

“You look great no matter what you wear.”

You flushed at his sincere compliment, before taking his hands in each of yours, “I’d love to go on a date with you again, you know.”

You squeezed his hands, “Preferably one where I knew it was a date?”

He was silent for a few seconds, before muttering, “Tomorrow then.” 

“Tomorrow what, Zoro?” You teased, “Use your words.”

Zoro took a deep breath, looking you right in the eyes, “Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow? We can have a picnic at the flower fields. You wanted to go there, right?”

“It’s a date.” You smiled, before giving him a peck on the cheek, “Good night, Zoro. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You entered your room, quickly shutting the door as your legs gave out under you. You sat stunned on the floor, hand on your chest to dampen the drumming of your heart, cheeks hurting from the wide grin you were sporting.

You knew you probably wouldn’t sleep a wink tonight, too filled with excitement for what tomorrow would bring.  

[sundays-sims]

M Y R I A D . (early access, patreon)

Hi all!

First of all, I am super sorry for the extreme delay in posting this month' set. I have had an insane month, it felt like everything that could have happened to slow me down, did, in fact, happen. I hope it's ok with everyone & thank you so much for understanding. ♥

The next month's publication will also be delayed due to the fact that I have been working on this myriad set until late last night and I haven't made any progress for next month's content. Again, thank you for your patience on this. You can expect the publication at the end of August instead of beginning of the month. Rest assured that I haven't cancelled any content, or anything like that, it will only be posted later during the month.

Now, about this month' set! It is a bit unusual as I normally go for pieces that are all part of the same "room type" but I decided to go for a bunch of mini sets ideas. I have been thinking about doing something like this for a while; more random objects that still go together. I kept my organic modern design aesthetic, so expect neutral tones & natural materials, but I also added some bright blues, greens & yellows for the mini lemonade set. The myriad set contains 15 new meshes in total, from seating to surfaces, along with a bunch of cute clutter.

↓ details & download link under the cut ↓

D O W N L O A D  L I N K : [X] (patreon, early access)

S E T   D E T A I L S :

brass & marble side table – 10 swatches

caffettiera – 3 swatches

candle – 4 swatches

ceramic plate – 12 swatches

coffee cup & spoon – 7 swatches

coffee table – 3 swatches

croissant & plate – 7 swatches

dining chair – 5 swatches

dining table – 10 swatches

lemon water glass – 1 swatch

lemon water pitcher – 1 swatch

lemonade pitcher – 15 swatches

lemons – 1 swatch

marble console – 9 swatches

rattan chair – 4 swatches

** myriad will be released (free) on August 21st**

→ terms of use / TOU ← / / → instagram ←

[solarmorrigan]

The Pumpkin (Spice) King

For the @steddie-spooktober day 24 prompt: Pumpkin Rated: T | Words: 945 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, this is very silly, fluff Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

The clues had been there all along. Eddie should have paid more attention.

It starts with the candle.

“Why does it smell like a craft store in here?” Eddie asks the moment the apartment door has closed behind him.

Steve, half engrossed in whatever he’s scrolling through on his phone, shoots Eddie a quick, puzzled look. “What?”

“Like cinnamon sugar and spices. Fake fall.” Eddie sniffs the room speculatively. “This is what craft stores smell like every year from September to January.”

“Oh.” Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not ‘fake fall,’ it’s just the candle I have burning.”

Now that Steve’s mentioned it, Eddie spots the candle on the table, one of the ones you get in a fancy-looking glass jar, the label of which proclaims the scent to be–

“Pumpkin spice?” Eddie utters, nose wrinkled.

“You got a problem with pumpkin spice?” Steve asks.

“It’s–” Eddie starts, then takes in Steve’s single raised eyebrow, registers the catty lilt to his tone, and changes tracks, “–barely September.”

If anything, Steve’s eyebrows get more judgmental, but he looks back to his phone, apparently dismissing Eddie as a threat to his fun, fall-scented good time. “They start selling these things in August," he says. “You should appreciate my restraint.”

“Riiight,” Eddie drawls, deciding to adjourn to the bedroom and leave the living room to Steve and his mass-produced miasma of imitation autumn.

Of course, it doesn’t end there.

Eddie barely notices in time, reaching for the pump of the hand soap by the kitchen sink and stopping just short of using it when the colors register. It isn’t the usual bland bottle with its inoffensive citrus and herb scent, but something brightly-colored, all orange and shiny silver. There are little wheat sheaves and pumpkins on the label, and the scent is, of course–

“Fucking pumpkin spice,” Eddie mutters.

Fine, okay, so there must have been some kind of sale at fucking– Bath and Body Works, or wherever the hell it is that sells this stuff, and Steve had temporarily lost his mind. Or something. Whatever.

Steve can go around smelling like something that wishes it could be cinnamon all he likes, but Eddie will not be joining him. He uses the dish soap to wash his hands instead. His eczema will not thank him later, but he thinks it’s a fair price to pay for his continued dignity.

(And if Steve eyes Eddie’s reddened, peeling knuckles later in the week, and the lemon herb soap reappears next to the pumpkin spice soap, well – that’s close enough to a win that Eddie will take it.)

Then there’s the coffee.

This one is technically the final nail in the coffin, but it takes a bit to really dawn on Eddie. He maintains that he had been understandably distracted at the time – largely because he only finds this one out by drawing the taste straight from Steve’s mouth.

It isn’t unusual for Steve to have been up and about for an hour or two (or three) before Eddie rolls out of bed on his days off; Eddie prefers to keep late hours, and Steve, as much as Eddie loves him, is a morning person. This had caused some friction when they’d first started living together, but it’s been nearly a year now, and they’ve managed to work it out. Often, their first kiss of the day tastes like whatever coffee Steve’s already been drinking.

It’s different today, though. Sweeter than usual.

Eddie hums, licking deeper into Steve’s mouth, trying to place the difference, and Steve groans, tugging Eddie closer by the hips, mistaking his curiosity for passion (and, well – it’s not not passion. Eddie can multitask).

“What’ve you been drinking?” Eddie finally asks when they pull apart.

“Pumpkin spice latte,” Steve answers, and then gives Eddie absolutely no chance to process this information, pulling him back in for another deep kiss.

It’s only later, back in bed when Eddie had barely even been out of it for half an hour, that Eddie has to admit to himself: his boyfriend is a pumpkin spice girl.

And that’s fine! Eddie can be mature about this!

Sure, it’s the sort of thing he’d sneered at back in high school—the conformity of the masses flocking to whatever seasonally-scented item corporations are hocking at the time—but he’s grown up since then. Someone’s preference for a certain flavor or scent doesn’t determine their worth as a person, et cetera, et cetera. Eddie knows this.

But still, he’s only human. He does have a breaking point.

“Oh, baby, no.”

“What?” Steve pulls his head out of the fridge, where he’s been putting the cold stuff away as Eddie unloads the grocery bags destined for the pantry.

Eddie holds up the offending item – possibly the most offending item he’s ever seen.

Pumpkin spice candy corn.

Steve blinks at him. “What?” he asks again after a long moment of loaded silence.

“Oh god, it’s already infected your brain,” Eddie laments, dropping the bag of candy on the counter and reaching for his phone. “I’m calling Robin, we’re staging an intervention.”

“Oh come on, what? They’re good!” Steve insists.

“Objectively, sweetheart, they really aren’t. But don’t you worry,” he leans over and pats Steve on the arm as he searches for Robin’s number in his contact list, “we’re gonna save you from yourself.”

(Later, of course, he’ll find out that Robin has already tried to break Steve of his tendency to buy anything labeled with “pumpkin spice.” His love of the stuff is ironclad. She tells Eddie that he’d better learn to enjoy the taste, or else give up making out with his boyfriend until Thanksgiving.)

[fanaticsnail]

Oh, oh, Buggy for the kissing booth please? (And if someone is in line ahead of me could I be tagged for him? 👉👈) Thank you! 🧡🧡🧡 This is such a fun idea!

-rorywritesjunk

(imma just request from main now on)

The Kissing Booth - Buggy for Rorywritesjunk

Word Count: 1,400+

Notes: Thank you so much for your patience, Rory! It's been a little while since I've done one of these! True to his form, here is the fail-forward clown in all his charismatic glory. Thank you for being here, and I hope you enjoy his kisses!

Taking a few final breaths to calm yourself down, ears pricked at the approach of heavy boots crunching gravel beneath the firm leather heels. Jingles of trinkets falling from jackets and belt buckles is what you assumed the twinkling chime sound was, but you knew better than to make an assumption on a stranger.

Laughter and merriment flung from the throats to christen the atmosphere with their joy, unintentionally drawing your own to bubble in your chest at the seriously large influx of unusual laughs. Not so much the content they were laughing at, but the laughs themselves was what had you teetering out soft giggles. 

“The hell is-...?” A nasally voice cut out, as the halt of his feet stood at the path before where you sat, “...A ‘Kissing Booth’? How does that work?” A few voices began to whisper amongst themselves as the boots drew ever nearer. 

Straightening your back, you shook yourself clear of any nerves as your posture became more alert and attentive. The crunch and crackle of boots meeting the floor halted and you felt your nose pick up the first whiff of their cologne. A deep musk and playful fruity scents interwoven with the spray of the sea, alongside something that almost matched the acidity of lemon sweets, met your nose and caused your mind to wander. Before you could make a motion to speak, their voice interrupted your monologuing with the same nose-front resting tone. 

“What do I do? Just sit in front of you and get a facefull of tongue?” the voice asked with confusion laced in their tone. “Are you even any good? No offense intended or anything.” 

You immediately reclined in your stool with your brow furrowing beneath the mask at his questioning. Hooking one leg over your knee, you fold your arms and turn your face from the stranger. 

“If I wasn’t any good, I wouldn't have volunteered for this,” you huff, angling your chin in the air and electing to ignore him. “And no, I don’t give out a ‘faceful of tongue’. If that’s your idea of a kiss, please, by all means, jog on.” 

“‘Jog on’?” He mimicked you, moving towards the guest seat and plopping himself down on the surface, “Crew, you lot ‘jog on’. I’m gonna have words with this one.” 

“You sure, Captain?” another voice asked the man, only being met with a few sounds of claps of hands meeting shoulders and directions for the person to hush. Overlaps of: “We can go on the ferris wheel,” “Boss is letting us of the leash,” “The captain wants some privacy,” and “I want to hit the barbeque,” was released in hushed whispers as footsteps immediately fled the scene unfolding between you and this ‘Captain’.

After the sounds of feet meeting the ground left to a complete vacation from your proximity, a few leaves of paper crumpled into the jar beside you by the hands of your guest. 

“I-... uh-...” they began, slowly scooting the stool closer to you, “I’m sorry about the tongue thing. I don’t know what that was all about. A-And for judging your abilities to kiss. I’m sure you are a fine kisser, and considering I’ve paid my Berry, I mean… If you’re still wanting to… I just… I’m sorry.”

You still angled your face away from him, only now pursing your lips to stifle a rising smile on your face. Slowly but surely, you turned to face him and extended your right hand out to offer him your truce. You felt his shrouded hand meet with yours, noticing a slightly worn fuzz to the leathery material before you felt contact meet with your knuckles. 

Breath warmed your skin before his lips descended to the middle knuckle: pursed in a perfect heart shape to caress your skin. Holding their lips there for a moment longer, they removed them and thumbed over the spot. 

“Forgiven then?” the voice asks you softly. You slowly turn your shrouded face towards him and give him a polite nod. 

“I’m sure your comment was offered in jest,” you smile at him, your hand still placed within his own. “And that was a very unique way to use your donation. Most people go for the lips.” 

The hand wrapped around yours tensed, frozen in place as their breath hitched in their throat.

“That wasn’t-, I didn’t mean-, kiss on-, was that-?” his words all jumbled together like a clown missing each juggling ball on their descent. You chuckled at his words, unlacing your knees and leaning towards him.

“I was joking,” you nod at him, slowly moving your hand up to where you assume his face was. Immediately, his remaining other hand blocked your touch: his thumb in the center of your palm and for fingers circling over your fingers.

“Don’t,” they warned you, moving in closer, “It’s… It’s better if you hold still and I lean in. Uh… In fact.” Their face felt closer to yours, each moment seeming to bob against your face without ever making contact, “If… If you could tilt your head a little…” 

You furrowed your brows, but complied with his request. Tilting your head to the right, giving him more of an invitation, you were unsure as to what you were expecting.

Only seconds pass until you feel contact being slowly pressed against your face. Not your lips, but stamped against your cheek, a round object squished against your skin as they moved their lips ever closer. 

‘A nose?’ you thought to yourself, refusing to question their actions and only tilting your chin up as a response. As you angled your face upwards, you felt his lips meet with yours. Timidity, uncertainty, and a small quiver was found in the lips of this formerly confident captain. Each motion was slow as he opened up more to the kiss. 

Slowly moving his lips against yours, he expelled a breathy sigh as you reciprocated all of his movements. Mouthing at your lips, he flicked his tongue out to playfully brush with your bottom lip, only to immediately whimper as you parted them to accept him. His hands left yours, regrouping to cup your face with his gloved hands. Pinky fingers at your jaw, he held you steady as he added more pressure to the intensity of his kiss. 

His head tilted to change angles, offering you a few more fluttered kisses as he swapped directions, brushing the rotund tip of his nose against yours in the interlude between his deep kiss. The moans from his throat intensified as you drew your hand to his chest and held firm to his collar, never breaking the kiss first for fear that you would pull away too quickly. 

There was no stop to the motions, using all in his power to continue claiming more of you against himself while attempting to breath as much of you in as he could. The way he kissed you was as if you were the last kiss he would ever have before resolving himself to the gallows. The need for air began to tug at your lungs, as was his own, prompting him to break the kiss with a smacked pucker of his lips on yours. 

“I-...” he choked as he panted through the heave of his lungs screaming at him, “...Am Buggy. And that?” you felt his clothed thumb press against your lips, brushing the skin in a smooth swipe, “That was a really good kiss. Hold still for me, starlight?” 

“Hold still-?” your question dies on your lips as you feel him begin to swipe a wet piece of material over your lips and dab at a few key spots on your skin.

“I… I wear paints, and you got a little transferred on you,” he commented with a small chuckle, “Don’t you worry, you’ll be all back to how you were when I clean you up. Just keep sitting as you are, and I’ll be done in a second, alright?” 

You did as you were told, asking no questions while Buggy dutifully cleaned up your features with every slow movement. As he said, it was all over in a quick moment. As he pulled the cloth away from your skin, he took a moment to ponder you as you sat on the booth. 

“When you’re all done up here, ‘shut up shop’ as it were,” he pressed the towel to the tip of your nose and playfully dabbed you, “Let me take you out? Just as an apology for the earlier comment about the faceful of tongue and the judgment on your ability.”

You hum thoughtfully and purse your lips in mock thought. Taking a second to yourself, you smile with your nose crinkled in a playful scrunch.

“I’ll think about it.”

[withleeknow]

cats and soup.

note: i have a newfound obsession and it's cats and soup so this might be a little niche but it's meant for me and i just wanted to word vomit lmfao

cats and soup, that's your latest obsession. all it took was five minutes of your friend introducing you to the game before you were completely captivated by the world of cute little animated cats making soup on your phone.

so much so that you had to show your boyfriend.

obviously. it's a game about cats. who else would you rather squeal about it with?

though, much to your disappointment, minho doesn't seem very impressed as you try to get him to look at your phone screen for more than ten seconds.

okay. little meanie.

"why would you need to play a game like this when you have our actual babies right over there?"

"i have them in here too!" you'd argue. "look! i named them soonie, doongie and dori. aren't they so cute? soonie is on soup duty, doongie is chopping carrots, and dori is grating cabbages. i even got them cute little hats!"

the mention of his cats featured in the game gets minho to spare you a glance, intrigued for a fleeting moment before he's turning away again.

you'd scowl at his refusal to entertain you but then you'd admit defeat pretty quickly in favor of immersing in your phone once more. it's cats !! making soups !!

it's not unusual for you two to be in separate bubbles while sitting side by side. you're not one of those couples who has to do everything with each other, but you did kinda hope that this would be something for you to have fun with together.

but oh well, if minho isn't interested, then you can't force him. the game is still fun though. even though you go to bed that night a little bummed out, you still fall asleep thinking about getting a black kitten and naming it mimo. it'd be cute, maybe you'd even put him on lemon squeezing duty.

fast forward to the next morning, when he literally shakes you awake at the ass crack of dawn, calling your name frantically.

your first thought is the house must be burning down, because lee minho never acts like this.

"i finally got you!"

"you got me what?"

"i got your cat!"

"what?"

actually, on second thought, the only time that you've seen him this hyped up was when you'd gotten you two matching pjs with soonie, doongie and dori printed on them.

"see?!" then the guy is full on shoving his phone in your face, the sudden brightness of his screen almost taking your eyes out that you have to push his hand away.

"min!"

"sorry. here."

he'd lower the brightness and hold the device a safe distance from your face, impatiently waiting for your eyes to adjust to whatever it is that he's trying to show you.

it's a cat.

an animated cat.

specifically, a cats and soup animated cat, named after you.

"you named a cat after me?"

"yeah i was waiting for ages to get another black cat. i got one first and named it after me. now we can be a black cat couple. look at the cat tower i got us-"

"minho, what the fuck? when did you even start playing?"

"i downloaded it after you fell asleep."

"have you been playing all night? did you even sleep?"

"no, but that's beside the point. look, i'm trying to show you!"

you love him, you do. truly. completely. most ardently. you recognize that this is one of the cutest things that he's done. but jesus christ...

"it's sunday. it's 6 in the morning."

"yeah i know, but-"

"i'll look at it later."

"you're up, you can look now. i got you a potted plant that grows from your head and-"

"lee minho, let me fucking go back to sleep!"

you may have unintentionally created a monster.

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts  @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken @extrhotjne

[iceman-soup]

ghost x soap

Of course it's fucking raining now that Soap and Ghost finally on leave. Sure, it's not unusual Scottish weather (they're staying in Johnny's small flat in Glasgow), and it's not like they were gonna do much today anyway, but still. It has them waking up in an already lazy mood, Simon shuffling to cuddle into his boyfriend closer and groaning.

The bed is too comfy and warm to get up, and Si doesn't want to move away from Soap's sleepy embrace. They're both conscious, quietly making incoherent noises of complaint at that fact back and forth at each other. Eventually, Johnny presses his lips to Ghost's forehead and rolls them over, sitting up on Simon's stomach to look out the window like a curious rabbit, then leaning down and littering his unmasked face with pecked kisses.

Simon laughs, running his hands through Soap's mohawk. Raindrops patter against the window as he flips them over again, hugging Soap tight then sitting up opposite him, pulling on a pair of comfy military-issued socks and one of his hoodies. The Sergeant sits up too, also pulling on one of Si's hoodies, and much fluffier socks with little skull prints all over them that Gaz had bought him as a gag gift which he ended up adoring.

"Mornin', love," Soap smiles, voice deep and groggy as he leans forward to rest his head on Ghost's chest, who hums in response and nuzzles his cheek against his hair. After a couple moments just sitting like that, the two reluctantly flop out of bed, padding their way over to the tiny kitchen before realising they barely have a scrap of food in the flat, only just having a few general ingredients and a small selection of tea and coffee.

Simon groans again, scanning the fridge as if something new is about to spawn in, before turning around, picking his boyfriend up and setting him on a counter, then passing him flour, eggs, milk and some oil, and getting out a frying pan for the stove.

"What're we making?" the shorter man asks, swinging his legs and playfully kicking Ghost whenever he gets in range.

"Secret," is the only reply he gets, but it's quickly obvious by the way Si mixes some flour, milk and two eggs together, creating a thin batter which he splashes into the pan, just about remembering to put oil in first so as to not completely fuck it all up. Then Chef Riley takes charge, and suddenly Johnny is being bossed around, ordered to get plates and get cutlery and cut up a lemon and put some caster sugar in a small bowl and set it out all pretty on the tiny dining table. In his own home, he complains lightheartedly.

The first pancake served is happily accepted by the Scot along with a quick kiss. The shit weather had only gotten worse, but that meant a perfect background noise for them to eat (although it did make conversation a little difficult). Once the batter is all used up, Ghost puts Soap on washing up duty, whilst he dries and puts everything away. And then it's essential to curl up on the sofa together, wrapped in one of Johnny's blankets, watching a randomly-selected war film and criticising even the slightest inaccuracies to make each other laugh.

[cottonlemonade]

Night Routine

request: large Warm Milk with Honey to go for Tendou || fluffy-spicy night routine with boyfriend Tendou

warnings: spoilers, mdni, suggestive

One of the things you loved the most about your boyfriend was that he was never stingy with showing affection. As soon as you opened the door, Tendou was upon you with hugs and kisses, commenting on how gorgeous you looked - even if you only wore sweats and a shirt that had seen better days.

Coming straight from work, he always brought you something. You were the first (and quite frankly only) opinion he wanted whenever experimenting with something new and who were you to turn down handmade chocolate! So it wasn’t unusual for him to feed you something before you two got started on dinner. Having you sit on the kitchen counter, he would stand between your legs and make you close your eyes to get the full experience of the flavor. As the chocolate melted on your tongue, you’d feel his hands run up your plush thighs and give them a few sensuous squeezes, making you giggle.

“What do you think?”, he’d ask.

“Hm…”, you pondered, locking your hands behind his neck, “I love the twist of lemon you added.”

And your boyfriend’s face would light up that you caught his newest ingredient. He would kiss you, humming at how the chocolate added to your own sweet taste and then lift you off the counter so you could go on with dinner preparations.

When it was time to do the dishes, Tendou supplied a fresh playlist every week. You’d rock paper scissors to find out who would wash and who would do the drying and putting away and then begin the chore while dancing to his latest song choices. It always ended with you two loudly singing along to whatever was playing, let that be a disney song, an anime opening or like tonight Britney Spears “One More Time”.

“Oh baby baby, the reason I breathe is you”, he sang into your ear, his hands beginning a rather inappropriate journey over your hips down to your ass as you tried to focus on the sponge in your hand.

“Oh you got me blinded, oh pretty baby” and he ran his lips along your neck as he continued, “there’s nothing that I wouldn’t do” - and as quickly as his teasing began, it would stop. Next thing you knew he used the wooden cooking spoon as a microphone, holding it out to you whenever an adlib came up.

These silly games made the chore go by much faster and had you double over with laughter at his ridiculous performances, that got more over the top the longer the dish washing went on (to keep up morale).

When everything was tidied again, he’d put his arms around your waist and grin mischievously, “So, my delicious little praline. You wanna continue where we left off with our anime or…”, he put a finger under your chin, pulling you closer and said with a wink, “go straight to bed for some forbidden delights?”

a/n: ahhhh, the birthday boy! He is so silly and perfect ^^ I hope you enjoyed it 🫶🏻🌟 @ranscutedoll

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Do you have any fics where either Derek or Stiles live in a cabin in the woods? Bonus points if they build it themselves.

Thanks!!

Definitely.

Magically Yours: The Sun, The Moon, The Truth by Akinasky

(1/1 I 925 I Teen)

Stiles and Derek go away to a cabin to celebrate their one year anniversary and Stiles uses his abilities to mark himself as Derek's partner, forever.

Snowed In by rororowyourboat 

(1/1 I 4,258 I Teen)

Stiles and Derek get caught in a blizzard while hunting a monster in the Preserve. Their options are trekking a few miles back through the snowy woods in inclement weather while exhausted and injured... or spend the night in a random cabin.

They choose the cabin.

Baby, you should stick around by ElisAttack

(3/3 I 9,543 I Teen)

Derek's driving along a stretch of highway when an unusual sight makes him slow down, the engine of his old pickup rattling in protest.

There's a kid standing by the side of the road.

It's the middle of nowhere, the goddamn apocalypse, and this kid is standing by the side of the road with his thumb pointed skyward. Like he's playing at being a hitchhiker.

Or the one where Stiles thinks he's all alone in a post-apocalyptic world, until he meets Derek.

(Welcome To) Far Far Away, or The Tale of Wolfskin and the Fox Prince by scarlettletterr

(4/4 I 14,716 I General)

There's a wolf sleeping in the cabin on the outskirt of Beacon Hills, and a fox in the Prince's chambers. This is a tale of magic, of lemon cakes, and oblivious idiots falling in love in the country of Far Far Away.

Abominable by Revenant

(2/2 I 20,272 I Teen)

Where Derek buys a secluded cabin halfway up a mountain, meets a yeti and falls in love with Stiles, but not necessarily in that order.

A sacrilege to keep it a secret by babisays

(1/1 I 21,275 I General)

Stiles has a secret he's been keeping from everyone his entire life. But Derek is starting to notice the fact that he'll never go near a body of water when other people are around and he keeps saying that he's really bad at swimming. Derek knows that's a lie because he was able to hold him up in a pool for three hours straight. Stiles knows his secret is a ticking time bomb and at some point, everyone will know it. But he quite likes being the human of the pack. Even though Derek and he know that he isn't. Derek just wants to figure out exactly what he is.

Retreat by words_in_starless_skies (orphan_account)

(12/12 I 43,889 I Teen)

Stiles is not okay. He struggles with the aftermath of being possessed by the Nogitsune. Alone. A worried Derek invites him to his cabin in the mountains, which he shares with Cora and Peter. Stiles is totally on board with getting as far away from Beacon Hills as possible, especially when it means he gets his own comfort wolf.

Move Inside Of Your Light by sterekhale

(17/17 I 73,510 I Mature)

After fleeing from hunters Derek found refuge in a small Wyoming town. For almost ten years, he lived alone in a cabin among acres of land, until one night he stumbles upon a car accident near his place. When the driver comes to with his friendly smile and beautiful brown eyes, there’s no way Derek could’ve predicted the next three weeks.

Stiles is a hunter who can’t go home and the alpha of the fallen Hale pack is his Hail Mary. What he didn’t expect to find was a gentle and broken man in place of the so-called mighty alpha. Despite the pressures from back home, Stiles keeps putting off what he has to do, while falling for the one person he’s not supposed to.

Mating Moons by skinsharpenedteeth (Skinsharpenedteeth)

(15/15 I 85,268 I Explicit)

Stiles just wanted to get Derek's attention. Derek had seemed so distracted as the full moon approached and Stiles was feeling pretty neglected as a friend. Next thing he knows, he's magically bound to a cabin in the mountains with Derek all winter long and they have to figure out whether they want to be life mates?

[genericpuff]

Okay this is random but I was thinking about the episode Persephone tells Hades about Apollo and she’s talking about loukoumi to deflect and she brings up that she likes to add orange or lemon juice(i can’t remember which one she was talking about and webtoon won’t let me double check it) to her loukoumi when she makes it and how that’s unusual(I think anyway, again can’t make sure cuz wt sucks) But like? It’s not, you go to the airport in Greece and boom, that type of loukoumi is an option.

It's the same vibe I get now off that scene of Hera apologizing to Persephone for not having more vegetarian options in her home, and Zeus calling the practice a "waste of time"... but they're all clearly eating the same meal anyways and Mediterranean / Greek food is commonly vegetarian anyways ?? like wtf is Zeus talking about, it's really easy and commonplace to be vegetarian, like 70% of the Mediterranean diet is plant-based LMAO

like i guess that toast-looking thing is meant to be meat??? or maybe fish ig?? but again, it's not unheard of to be vegetarian in Greece anyways so idk what the fuck Zeus is talking about LMAO the only out-of-comic explanation I can think of is that Rachel Americanized LO so much that she thinks the old American joke of "haha stupid vegetarian! they're so inferior to us meat eaters!" can be applied to any culture (and that wouldn't be too insane of a stretch considering how much of the rest of LO is written through an American lens)

idk it's just dumb and goes to show how surface level Rachel's "research" is 💀

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Yandere Masseur - Micolai Introduction

Yandere Masseur x You (gender neutral)

Summary: A masseur you visit often is enthralled with you, planning to take every session one step further.

WARNINGS: 18+, no minors interact!, dubcon, explicit language, explicit sexual thoughts, touching, obsessive, toxic behavior

I chose the name Micolai, sorry lol Laoire is hard for me pronounce

-----

You were a regular. And you were his favorite.

Whenever he saw your name on his list of clients, he couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. It had to mean something, that you came back so frequently.  

You told him it was due to your stressful day to day life. But he knew it wasn’t just that. You must yearn for his touch. The second his skilled fingers met your skin; he felt you shake slightly at the soft impact.

Micolai had many returning customers. He was the best in the parlor. It helped that he was good-looking, too. But it wasn’t just that, his hands were strong and well-trained.

Older customers complimented his complexion, a light tawny tone he didn’t need to try hard to get. A split second in the sun and his skin absorbed it instantly, drinking in every ray. His black hair curled at their tips, the wavy bangs reaching his strong brows and enveloping his dark chocolate eyes. An, older female customer he didn’t care for continuously complimented his steely eyes. They only softened for you.

Micolai had a way of smiling without his eyes. Most customers didn’t notice. They sparkled for the first time when he met you. It started when he answered the phone and heard your sweet voice for the first time. You had asked for a 60-minute session. Micolai immediately put you into his own time table, curious to meet the siren.  When your eyes met in the waiting room, he had trouble speaking. You literally took his breath away. He left the door open a crack while you undressed, peaking in, excited that you would let him touch you. The first time he felt your skin, he noticed a tremble in his own muscles, an extremely unusual occurrence. No one ever managed to unnerve him like that before.

The madam had given him the biggest room in the massage parlor, since he earned her the most profit. He decorated it to his (and your) liking, adorning the wooden shelves with many candles, dim fairy lights and fake plants. He carried his trusty speaker to his new room and set it up near the table, so he could adjust the volume when he saw fit. You loved the sound of the ocean; you were less tense when you heard waves between calming piano notes in the background. He had a beautiful vase that he used for tips, which was always full to the brim. One day he followed you home and noticed you looking at this particular one in a shop mirror. You hadn’t recognized it, yet. Maybe it hadn’t been what you were looking at in the store.

He didn’t accept tips from you, much to your chagrin. You tried every time. He couldn’t muster up the courage to ask for something else as a tip. One day, he would.

He learned that you loved orchids. Every time you visited him, a new bloom appeared in his room, which you complimented furiously. He wanted you to feel comfortable here. An entire relaxation area – just with you in mind.

Micolai crafted his own massage oil, mostly out of necessity due to the parlor’s cheap oil giving him itchy rashes. It had too many harsh ingredients that clashed with his soft skin. He couldn’t risk losing the smoothness that you loved. He had been experimenting with scents for you. He settled on lavender and lemon, two fragrances that made you moan when the scent reached your nostrils. A sound that drove him wild.

While he prepared the room for the next unimportant client, he wrapped his bathrobe tight around his waist. He only left it loose for you, in case you wanted to see more. You never did, but he was hopeful. When he worked on others, he thought of you. Every second of his day revolved around you, when would you come again? How could he take this further?

Seeing your divine naked form before him… it was like God was tempting him every time. He resisted the violent urge to pull the towel away from you, to see you in all your glory before him. To touch you in your intimate space and swirl out all the stress you say befalls you. He could make it all melt away, with two fingers. With one hand.

He already touched you where he shouldn’t, massaging your glutes and taking it in. The first time he dared this move, you jolted up a bit, but his slick voice soothed you quickly: “Shh, it’s alright. You carry a lot of tightness here. I know what I’m doing.”

This time, he would try to brush his lips against your skin while massaging your legs. For a brief taste. If you reacted negatively, he would claim he slipped in the oil. It was all part of the plan.

Each and every time, Micolai became more daring and more pent up. When you left his room, he had to relieve himself. He did it all over the towels you were wrapped in. Smelling your scent that lingered on the ones you laid on; he busted onto the one wrapped around your waist. His room was far in the back, so no one heard his cries of relief.

It was the perfect area to please you. You could be as loud as you want.

Eventually, he will get to experience every part of your form.

And feel all of you.

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 5 - Ritual: Jushiro Ukitake x Female Reader

Requested by @destery.

Summary: You're officially a home owner! Maybe the home isn't in your ideal place, and maybe it required more fixing up than you wanted, but it's yours! But... why do random medicinal items appear whenever you touch yourself?

TW: MDNI! Use of sex toys, alcohol consumption mention, sexual frustration, spiritual voyeurism.

Word count: 2468

Read on AO3 here.

You let out a sigh of relief after the final coat of paint was left to dry on your newly redesigned living room. You had saved every bit of your money into buying a home for yourself, and sadly, with the economy in shambles, you found yourself looking at abandoned homes that required more elbow grease than anything.

But you were proud of yourself, this was your home! A home you could see yourself living in forever. You had redone some of the sliding paper doors, the light fixtures, cabinets and so forth. This was now the home of your dreams.

Yet, a small part of you doubted you were completely alone.

Your real estate agent disclosed that the home wasn’t occupied in over a hundred years, hence the sad state it was left in, but you were determined to transform it into something worth living in.

And now you got to enjoy the fruits of your labour! After all the sweat, tears (and fistfuls of cash), you deserved to treat yourself to a wonderful bath, in your newly renovated bathroom. You had a new tub and shower fixtures in place and were going to make full use of them.

You closed your eyes, humming to the song playing in the distance as your warm bath soothed your aching body. You treated yourself to some relaxing candles and aromatherapy to ease your joints. You could now enjoy your bath in peace, no roommates banging on your door, no family to scold you over your hot water use.

This was perfect.

You took your time relaxing, enjoying every moment of it. You bit your lip and gently squeezed your breasts, rubbing your thighs under the water. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten laid you thought. Your fingers were close to your pussy, until you heard a loud “thud” nearby.

You jolted out of the tub and pushed the shower curtain away but saw nothing unusual on the ground. Your shower mat was where it should be, your towel was hanging off the rack, your countertop was clean, save for the bottle of cough syrup.

Wait, what? You got out of the tub, staring at the bottle of cough syrup.

What in the world? Where did this come from? You stared at the bottle; it was completely new. The safety seal was still intact.

You immediately dried yourself and put on your robe. The doors were locked, your items were where they should be, nothing else was out of place. There was absolutely no evidence of anyone entering your home. You even realized that you didn’t see anything, or anyone, in the bathroom.

You checked your phone’s ring camera and saw the same. No one at the door, nothing. But the bottle got there somehow. A chill ran down your spine. You decided to watch one of your favourite comedy movies to put your mind at ease, putting the cough syrup in your medicine cabinet.

Months had passed since the incident with the bottle of cough syrup. You didn’t see or hear any other unusual things in your home. You even were surprised, since a few days after finding the bottle, you developed an itch in your throat. The cough syrup cleared it up.

Now, the weather was getting colder, shorts and flowing summer dresses were packed away, and out came your jackets and wool sweaters. Today was a particularly chilly day, so you opted for a thicker wool knit sweater and pants as you got ready for work. You were almost out the door when you decided to double check your work bag.

You had your work badge, essentials, a few receipts and an unopened pack of honey lemon lozenges.

“What?” You said out loud, pulling out the lozenges. You didn’t buy this. You didn’t recall buying this.

You stared at it, checking it to see if it was tampered, but nothing. It was completely new. You rummaged through your bag to see if anything else was out of the ordinary, but no. Your wallet was intact, toiletries had everything untouched, nothing was out of place.

You were dumbfounded, did a friend give you lozenges recently?

But you had no time to ponder, you were going to be late for work!

“It’s the strangest thing, Ran-chan!” You exclaimed to your friend and co-worker, Rangiku Matsumoto. “First the cough syrup, now the lozenges. I don’t remember buying them at all.”

Rangiku sipped her tea as she listened to you freak out over the mysterious appearances of these items, nodding along to what you were saying.

“Do you think it might be a prank?” She asked, pulling out her phone and typing something.

“I checked my ring camera, and there was no one at my door. Nothing.” You sighed.

“Maybe you’re being haunted.” She said, giving you a gleeful smile.

“Don’t be ridiculous. This will not get me to watch that weird show you keep talking about.”

Rangiku pouted, “you’re no fun sometimes,” she whined. “But you’re still getting drinks with me tonight, right?”

“Yes, yes, that hasn’t change.” You agreed, begrudgingly. While it was fun to drink with Rangiku, the weird occurrences in your home left you a bit unsettled.

“Aw, why the frown?” Rangiku teased, “have a drink to take your mind off your haunted house. Maybe you can find a guy for later.” She snickered, giving you a wink.

“Hm, that’s not such a bad idea.” You said, thinking more about it. You’ve been sexually frustrated as of late, and maybe a drink and a decent lay would take the edge off the home.

Rangiku smiled, but then put her hands on your shoulder, “but if you’re seriously that worried someone’s in your home, we can do a sleepover.” She gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Thank you. It means a lot. But we can stick with our plan today.” You smiled, already counting down the hours to end of the day.

You slammed the door of your house in anger and huffed your way to your bedroom. The drinks with Rangiku were fun, but the decent lay was anything but enjoyable! You thought the man hitting on you was cute, but you felt like you wasted your time. The man was too preoccupied getting himself off, trying to shove his dick in your mouth, rather than making the entire experience pleasurable for the both of you.

You fished for your good and reliable vibrator. If one thing was for certain, you were sure to end the night with an orgasm (or two).

You stripped down and began to touch yourself, circling the vibrator around your clit. You moaned loudly, enjoying the pleasure running through your body. You were so close to your orgasm.

Until a loud thud was heard close to the side of your bed.

You jolted up and looked around, but saw nothing, except a glass of water and a bottle of Advil?

“Who’s there?” You yelled, now your own house wasn’t going to let you orgasm? You were frustrated beyond belief.

“Show yourself right now!” You screamed. You started counting out loud, when someone, started to appear in front of you.

The scream you let out made your own ears ring, and the person in front of you covered their own ears but gave you a sheepish smile. He was a tall man, with sharp features, black eyebrows, but long white hair. You hated to admit it, but he was handsome.

“I didn’t mean to startle you.” Said the man, his tone apologetic.

“Who are you?” You shrieked, “and what are you doing in my house?!” I must have drank too much tonight. This can’t be real you thought to yourself.

“Let me explain, but could you put on some clothes?” The man asked, a blush forming across his cheeks as he tried to avoid looking at you directly.

You huffed indignantly and grabbed an oversized hoodie. You crossed your arms as you sat on your bed, a displeased frown crossing your face, “ok, let me hear it.”

“I’m Jushiro Ukitake. I lived in this house over a hundred years ago. I was a merchant for my family.” He smiled at you, to which you noticed he had beautiful green eyes.

“Ukitake-san –“

“Call me Jushiro.” He interrupted.

“Ok, Jushiro-san, how did you die?” You bluntly asked, wondering if his death was tied to the house in some way.

“I died of pneumonia. It was rampant in the region.” His eyes fell downcast, “I was the last of my family to go.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. And you haven’t been able to pass on from the house?” You asked, still trying to understand how he appeared in the first place.

“Frankly, I’m not sure of it myself.” He laughed. “I realized I was in the home when you were taking a bath one night. I sensed something and felt an illness spirit nearby.” Jushiro explained.

“That explains the cough syrup…” You murmured, “but what about the lozenges?”

“I felt another illness spirit in your vicinity, so I put that in your bag. I didn’t want to worry you by leaving it around the house, but I think it had the opposite effect.” He laughed again, bowing his head in apology.

“And just now?” You huffed, still a bit angry that your intimate moment was ruined.

“I sensed alcohol around you and didn’t want you to wake up with a headache in the morning.”

“But I was clearly busy!” You cried in frustration.

Jushiro sighed, “I know, I’m sorry. And there’s another reason for that.”

You gave him a glare and a pout. Your sexual frustration didn’t dissipate, and the handsome man was making things worse.

“I think your sexual energy is affecting my spirit. I couldn’t bring or touch things in the house before until you moved in.” He admitted, giving you a serious look.

You burst out into laughter, “you can’t be serious?”

But Jushiro’s face was anything but serious. He gave you a stern look. “I want you to look at me and keep pleasuring yourself. You’ll see.”

Oh I must be completely wasted to think of something like this. You thought, but if this was a dream, you might as well enjoy it with the hot man your brain conjured up.

“Well fine then, but you can only look! No touching.” You remarked, as you took off your hoodie. You pinched your nipples, earning a sigh from you, then rubbed your clit. You leaned into your bed as you turned on your vibrator, pressing it to your clit again.

“Look.” Jushiro said, as you stared with him through half-hooded eyes. He seemed more “visible” to you, more real.

“If you’re so ‘real’” you moaned out, staring at him while pumping the vibrator outside of your dripping hole, “then touch me.”

Jushiro blushed, but didn’t look away, “if that’s what the lady of the house requests, then I must oblige.” He joked.

You spread your legs open and noticed the bed sank as he climbed between you. Jushiro placed his hands on top of your thighs, parting them further. “Is this real enough for you?” He asked, his tone unwavering.

“No,” you smiled, biting your lip.

Jushiro’s hands crept up your body. They were strong and firm, squeezing different parts of you until he reached your breasts. He pinched your nipples then rolled them between his fingers, then without warning, sucked on one, then the other.

Oh this definitely feels real. Your realized, but you were too caught up in the sensations to even care anymore. You gently pulled Jushiro’s head away from your breasts and kissed him deeply. He returned your kiss and pushed you back into the bed.

“You’re wearing too many clothes, Jushiro-san.” You whined.

Jushiro gave you another smile and chuckled, undoing his robes. You placed your hand over his firm chest, ran your fingers along it. You cupped his growing erection and gave him a squeeze, earning a moan from him. His presence felt more solid with every kiss, nip and touch you two gave each other.

“This device is amazing.” Jushiro said, as he reached out to your vibrator.

“It is! But sometimes you just want the ‘real’ thing, you know?” You teased, pumping his cock. His cock was heavy in your hands, as you felt ever vein and ridge, to the tip of his cock.

“I can’t say no to the beautiful lady of the house, can I?” He murmured, preparing to enter you. He slightly tapped his cock against your clit, earning a moan from you. He groaned as he entered you slowly, filling you up. You mewled at the stretch, eyes rolling at the sensation. Then you heard the whirl of your vibrator, and looked down, to see Jushiro placing it on your clit. You let out a wanton moan, throwing your head back as he began to thrust inside you.

Jushiro didn’t know how to work your vibrator like you did and set it to a level where there was barely any vibration, not that you minded, his cock felt amazing inside you. Your legs were wrapped around his hips, his thrusts a bit too slow for your liking.

“Faster, Jushiro, please.” You whined, arching your back to feel him deeper inside you. Jushiro grabbed your hips and slammed himself inside you, as the two of you moaned from the sensation. His pace quickened, earning praises and moans from you. “You feel so good, Jushiro. Your cock is so big inside me.” You moaned, rocking your hips to his pace.

Jushiro let one hand go off your hip to grab your vibrator again, this time, to a much higher setting then before, placing it firmly on your clit. You screamed at the sensation, seeing stars as Jushiro’s thrusts didn’t waver, your juices covering his cock. His groaning grew in intensity, before he pulled out and came over your wet pussy. He rolled off you, catching his breath. You panted next to him, taking in what just happened, but exhaustion hit you faster. Before you knew it, you were fast asleep next to him.

Your head was slightly pounding, and you felt the light film of the drinks you had, covering your tongue. Your lower body was sore, as you remembered what had happened last. You found your vibrator on the ground, and your pussy still wet from last night.

“That was such an intense dream.” You said aloud, as you inspected how wet you were.

“You’re awake!” Jushiro entered your room, a beaming smile on his face. “I made you breakfast.”

You stared at him dumbfounded, “you’re real?”

“Well last night certainly was very real.” He chuckled. You saw the worried look in his face as you fainted from shock.

This was fun to write (albeit maybe not quite ritualistic). I wanted to write something with a horror vibe, but this was too fun to write! I hope you guys had a good chuckle and thanks for reading! :)

The inspo for this song (and title on AO3) is from Andre VII's song "Pseudoesotérico" feat. Andres Caballero.

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Choi Han sees a weird stick in Cale’s hair.

“Oh, wait Cale-nim, let me…” With the slight height advantage, Cale doesn’t actually have a choice but to let the swordmaster do as he wishes.

For moment he fiddles around, trying to grab the elusive, tangled object, when he suddenly feels Cale lean into his hand. He watches with bated breath as Cale closes his eyes.

(‘Ah, I’m so tired that I’m leaning on Choi Han. Aigoo, he must think I’m pathetic.)

Choi Han spends another minute to get the stick out, claiming that it was particularly stuck in his long hair. He burns this memory into his mind while also promising to never tell another soul.

Eruhaben is next. He notices the red head’s soft locks, freshly washed and neatly air-dried with magic. As a dragon, he doesn’t think twice about the temptation, standing from his spot on the couch to test if Cale’s hair is even half as soft as it appears to be.

It is, he learns.

(Cale shivers. Is Eruhaben threatening him? Just in case, Cale bows his head to hide his fearful expression.)

The dragon watches with amusement, thinking that it’s only natural to offer one’s head to a dragon as powerful as him. Until he feels Cale almost… press into his palm absentmindedly. Eruhaben vividly feels the exact moment that his heart melts into a puddle of affection.

He definitely will use this against the bastard next time he has the opportunity.

Oddly, On and Hong figure it out next. Cale is sitting in his usual chair, reading a book with his hair falling into his face picturesquely. On recalls when Rosalyn did her hair up with a pretty pin, making it easy to move around without getting in her face.

On considers if Cale would mind On experimenting a little, immediately coming to the conclusion that he wouldn’t give two shits.

She transforms into her human form and moves behind the chair. Of course, Cale doesn’t bat an eye at her unusual movements. When she gathers his hair up in her hands, he doesn’t miss a beat, leaning back to give her better access. He only changes the angle of his book so he can still read. Hong observes his sister from Cale’s lap with curiosity.

Her upbeat attitude is ruined quickly because she doesn’t know how to braid nor tie up hair, and is missing the necessary bows and pins to do it in the first place. She runs her fingers through his vibrant red hair as she tries to remember what Rosalyn did.

Hong’s eyes go wide. Cale had stopped reading as his sister continued her ministrations, closing his eyes and leaning back, relaxing into his seat. Hong urgently signals for his sister to witness this.

Her eyes narrow in on the sight with a calculating gaze. She changes the way her hands run through his hair, simply running her fingers through and carefully untangling it instead. Cale’s face gradually loses its constant pinch.

(‘Yes, the children should do whatever they want, even play with my hair.’ Cale internally nods to himself.)

On, unlike Choi Han or Eruhaben, tests her limits. She continues her gentle pattern without pausing. After a few minutes, both of the cats hear Cale’s breathing taper away into a relaxed rhythm. On silently makes eye contact with her brother, and they make a secret promise to not make a big deal about this, lest this trick never work again.

They hear Ron before he enters the room and On casually returns to her car form, stealthily and softly landing on Cale’s lap. Ron enters, pausing at the sight of his puppy young master.

Smiling benignly, he darkly assumes that Cale had been so exhausted that he managed to fall asleep in the middle of reading.

On and Hong don’t correct him.

If Cale has an especially bitter lemon tea that night, he doesn’t make a big deal about it. Not when the crown prince calls him soon after it arrives.

He arrives at the palace where the Crown Prince learns of this spreading secret. Cale uses his superior glib tongue to force a frown on Alberu’s exhausted expression, and the exasperated hyung sighs, walking around to the couch where his dongaeng is sprawled. He places a hand on his shoulder, threatening Cale with a high political position if he doesn’t stop doing dangerous things and causing trouble.

Cale shudders and agrees. Alberu smiles at this, his hand moving to ruffle his adorable dongsaeng’s hair.

(Cale sighs, closing his eyes and humoring his affectionate hyung. He leans back, questioning why everyone has been so touchy lately.)

Alberu feels his heart stop and stutter at the fragile sight. Cale looks completely at ease, slumped in the couch cushions and pressing his head into Alberu’s palm like a cat. His lip is quirked up slightly, but Alberu would bet a golden plaque that Cale hasn’t a single idea on what he looks like right now, otherwise he wouldn’t be even half as relaxed as he is right now.

He resembles a lazy cat. He’s being pet whilst lounging, with a content and pleased expression edging on his face. If this goes on long enough, Cale might even fall asleep.

Alberu continues talking without letting his smile leak through into his words, stroking the top of Cale’s head in an absent minded motion.

(Cale ignores the sneaking chill on the back of his neck, too focused on Alberu’s words about the kingdom. The petting is a bit strange, but Alberu is the crown prince, so he’ll allow it.)

As predicted, Cale doesn’t mention it.

After a minute though, Cale starts to frown, beginning to acknowledge the feeling that he’s being scammed somehow.

“Hyung, do you have a headache?”

Alberu acts like a polite and caring hyung, starting to massage Cale’s head.

(Cale frowns more. Something is definitely going on.)

Cale opens his eyes, protesting. “Your highness, my health is perfect at the moment. You, our shining sun, couldn’t possibly-“ Alberu changes from massaging to running his fingers through Cale’s hair.

(Cale sighs, cutting off. It was just a ploy to play with Cale’s hair. He should’ve expected his highness to scam him in this way too.)

Alberu grins when Cale stops talking, looking resigned to his fate. He goes completely limp, and Alberu’s blunt fingernails scratch against Cale’s scalp gently. Cale visibly shudders at the feeling.

(‘Too scary, what if he scratches and draws blood? If Raon finds out, he’s going to feed me soggy apple pie…’)

Alberu preens at finding Cale’s weakness.

On slyly asks Rosalyn to do up Cale’s hair one day- as an experiment- and is extremely pleased when Cale not only agrees, but he closes his eyes and falls asleep soon after the Mage is done gently tugging his hair into place and adorning it with intricate pins and accessories. Choi Han walks in on this scene and threatens Rosalyn to keep it a secret (after melting a bit on the inside). She agrees with a sly smile.

If only Cale knew how everyone was going to use this to scam him in the future…

Eventually the misconception that Cale likes to have his hair played with goes around the entire group. Cale- of course- is completely clueless. He just thinks that everyone suddenly became obsessed with his hair.

Ron is the only one who can’t get Cale to relax. Even Bud somewhat managed it, but Cale stays vigilant no matter what his old butler does. Ron finds his puppy young master to be amusing.

Cale really doesn’t understand what they want with his hair. Do they want his hair?

(He asks Ron for a trim a few days later. Ron only cuts off the dead ends and leaves it neat but long, much to the young masters displeasure.)

[ratherembarrassing]

here's what i'm thinking about now: agatha was born in 1674 or 1675[1].

nicholas was born in 1750. agatha was already seventy five years old then. that's an unusually old age to be getting pregnant, even for a witch, even by 2024 standards, and it's noteworthy because the writers could have placed it anywhere in the timeline, including at a point in time where she could have become pregnant in ordinary circumstances.

and yet, she suggests that it wasn't magic...

that phrase is weird, because we use it in a specific and limited way now. if someone said this now, it would be taken to mean something along the line of "i made him from the basic ingredients." the emphasis of its usage now is on the components used. but the origin of the phrase "to start from scratch" is a reference to the starting line - the scratch - of a running race. it means to start from the beginning, the emphasis is on the process. and the phrase's origin is from the 1700s. so i take agatha to mean here that she didn't take a shortcut with a spell to magic him into existence, she actually went through the process. for someone whose entire existence is stealing other people's power to use for herself, it's something to be proud of.

but. you cannot overlook that the modern meaning lingers. she says "you were made from scratch", leaning into the emphasis on the components used, rather than "i made you from scratch."

so where did this child come from????? because if agatha is not magiking herself into a pregnancy... who did?

(and who do we know who doesn't appreciate the sacred order of things being disrupted? agatha knows rio is coming to get that baby. she's fleeing into the forest, lemons are a ward against evil, and still she is not shocked to see rio show up and knows immediately what she's there for. this is an ongoing conversation they've been having, but even still rio is swayed awfully quickly. what did you do, rio?)

(AND. did rio need nicky to turn himself in, too??????????)

[1] agatha was 18 in 1693, see https://deadline.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/08/WandaVision-Episode-8_Donney-It-Starts-On-The-Page.pdf, page 1.