#you grill it instead of baking it and it took SO. LONG.

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You invite them to live in your Serenitea Pot

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe 

After prolonged years of adventuring, traveling, and battling, you decided it was the appropriate moment to invite your partner to your Serenitea Pot. It’s like inviting a significant other to move in with you, right? You are delighted, and even though your beloved is acting honored and calm on the outside, little do you know - he is secretly screaming with victory on the inside. 

✧ A tender smile graced Pierro’s cold expression. The first time you spoke about him taking residence along with you in your Serenitea Pot mansion, The Jester's inner machination was already planning a wedding. He loved you, with every fiber of his being. And whether you decide to live in the grand Snezhnayan Palace or somewhere private, it won’t hinder his plans to spoil you as his beloved.

It was all according to plan. You wake up, breakfast is already prepared. You start your day, the house is already cleaned. You wish to rest, his arms are already open.

He took his duties as a resident of your humble abode as if he were the househusband of this home. All matters were taken care of by him. And the fact that you two are already leading a private life together like a proper couple ignited his cold demeanor with softheartedness. It suited him; the commotion of the Fatui and Snezhnayan delegations were far away from you two. And with no peering eyes, the Fatui Director was busy with so many thoughts about your future: making your home better, showing himself as a man who would coddle you all day long, choosing a ring for you…

“Dear? You are deep in thoughts again,” - You called out suddenly, your gentle voice breaking his train of vehement thoughts. “I told you, you’re here to rest, not overwork yourself with chores!”

“Ah, my apologies. It seems I was lost in my mind once more. You know my habit of preparedness is often prevalent.”

✧ The honorable Il Capitano went silent the first time you invited him, and his pitch-black helmet did not provide any clues to his already stoic body language. At first, you hesitated. Perhaps he did not feel comfortable taking such an importan-

Next thing you know, the mighty captain is kneeling in front of you, his head hung low in utter reverence. “It would be my greatest honor to receive your blessings. I shall conduct myself with utmost obedience in your domain.”

“Goodness gracious, It’s just my house, Capitano! Not the Tsaritsa’s throne!” 

After much convincing and assurance, you finally had The First of the Harbingers in your dwelling. In the beginning, you pondered, what a man of his caliber would do in his private time. Perhaps more training, or planning for battles? You decided to create a separate area for weaponry storage and training duels. After all, you wanted to be considerate.

To your surprise, Capitano never brought his “work” in the privacy of your home. Instead, he treated you to some of the best home cooking in the seven nations. With a broad outdoor area like your Serenitea Pot, Il Capitano finally managed to flex his grilling skills. You never knew BBQ grilled vegetables could taste so heavenly. And on colder nights, he preferred some home baking.

“Who would’ve thought the strongest man in Teyvat relished such a peaceful routine when he’s at home,” - You teased him once. Feasting like a monarch with his cooking, you have your cherished prepare the best food and provide the strongest cuddles - what else would you need?

“I would never bring you the turbulence of war to the footsteps of your home. After all, mundanity is a luxury that the common folk cannot comprehend.”

✧ When Il Dottore moved in with you - he became an absolute menace to your mental well-being. The upper floor of your manor was entirely occupied for his scholarly needs. From your library to your study; the upper rooms were regaled, making a mini makeshift lab filled with vials of obscure chemicals or too-long-to-read medical names.

But that was not the main issue at all. The greatest conundrum was that Dottore considered your privacy as our privacy. According to him, the Serenitea Pot was a private residence, secluded from the turmoil of the world’s idiocracy. Any temporary visitors would receive a nasty glare from him whenever they stayed. This was his confidential sanctuary with you, not theirs. And in his private time, when it’s only you and him in the house, the Doctor would forget that people often get dressed after a shower - because he would exit the bathroom wearing only a towel around his hips, and keep waltzing around your room like it’s nothing.

“...Uh? Please dress first, Dottore.”

“Very well.”

“Not here!!!”

Nevertheless, you managed all that. What you didn’t manage, however, is how Dottore took the most amount of space in bed. Your bed, mind you. Before he joined your travels, you created a comfy bedroom in your Serenitea Pot, a separate, quiet setting for your favorite mad scholar. Alas, every night you peacefully went to bed, only to wake up with a figure wrapping his arms tightly around your midsection, taking half of your bed.

Today was one of those days. The blankets were a mess, some had fallen to the floor. You feel uncomfortable and claustrophobic in your own bed, something nudging you to almost fall off. You already knew the culprit of your situation - Dottore. He was dozing off comfortably behind you, his arms sleepily thrown around your form, glued to your torso.

You whined groggily, trying to get away - “... You have your own bed. Stop pushing me.”

“Shush. Come here.” - Dottore's arms encircled around your waist, pulling your back flush to his chest. “It’s our bed now.” 

It seems The Doctor didn’t take long to feel at home. Oh well. The only way to deal with this was to use him as a mattress from now on.

✧ At first, you hesitated to invite Scaramouche to your Serenitea Pot. It was still a work in progress, and not all areas were refurbished or prepared. Yet surprisingly, it was he who opened the discussion of a joint dwelling. Perhaps it was his instinct to keep you closer, to be certain of your safety in his arms.

After asking and discussing, you were pleasantly surprised when the Balladeer stated: “I do not expect you to build a palace. I will help you with the renovation. You can ask for my help.”

And so he did. You felt timid with your emptied Serenitea Pot, yet The Harbinger took it upon himself to aid you. He worked with you on where the house should be, and what type of garden or entrance should accompany it. There was something about his serious gaze whenever he discussed with you the matters of home. As if some old memories were reemerging.

“It doesn't matter. We won’t clutter the place, as a busy environment becomes a nuisance. The less one has - the better.”

With a profound touch of contemplation and minimalism, You and Scaramouche managed to plan an elegant abode. It was simple, yet perfectly maintained - with the best aspects of Inazuma and other foreign nations in the craftsmanship of the furniture. You were surprised but content. You even went as far as to ask your beloved whether he wanted a more traditional Inazuman style for this private dwelling but he strictly rejected it.

He didn’t want any more memories of his “birthplace” to resurface. Not in a place that will be private for you two.

So here you were, giddy with excitement as the interior of your manor was settled and ready. The bedroom was cozy and comfortable, a perfect place to lounge and rest. The Harbinger would groan whenever you tugged and pulled him to sleep next to you. 

“If you move once in your sleep, I’m pushing you off the bed.” 

You promised him you wouldn’t. But it was he who relented and held you close to his chest during the night. He did not need a home or a safe haven from the cruel world; You were already his home. 

✧ Bring in the fine china, and roll out the red carpet - because Pantalone was coming over to your Serenitea Pot. You know that your sweetheart has a manor pricier than Mondstadt’s entire GDP, with fancy knick-knacks and luxuries. But as a couple, it was always Pantalone who insisted on you living with him, since he could spoil and pamper you after long travel expeditions. In his manor, you can simply have everything you ever desire. 

But today was a grand occasion. You decided to invite him to your humble home, even if you had little to impress him with. The Harbinger was ecstatic, this was a step he desired and longed for. Should he dress formal-casual or more extravagant? No, no. His hair must be well-kept. Perhaps he should bring an expensive bottle of Fontainian wine… The evening must end flawlessly. It’s his first night in your home, for crying out loud. An evening designated to culminate with lovely cuddles in your bed, lavishing you with kisses or more. 

Upon entering your cozy home, all his worries dissipated after you embraced him in your usual jovial way. You proudly displayed your manor, tugging at his hand and pulling him closer. Mirroring your pride, he stood analyzing each item or furniture as if it were a priceless relic in a museum.

“Ah, yes. I see this must be a traditional Inazuman doll, one used in ancient arts and rituals.”

“Oh, these round things? This is just a tanuki daruma… They bounce funny.”

“And I see this figurine must be imported as well, my dear? A marvelous craftsmanship of wood and carvings. Interesting.”

“This is just a wooden figurine of an Aranara” - you smiled proudly.

“I like your funny words, darling.” 

✧ If Tartaglia never invited you over to his family home back in Snezhnaya, you would’ve thought this man was homeless. The 11th often stayed in your Serenitea Pot, always giddy yet conscientious. Whenever you wished for any help around the house, his sleeves would roll up and the apron was on; all you had to do was ask, and you shall receive.

Thus, the two of you would help each other. If you were cooking, then he would do the laundry; all chores were equally divided. Childe was naturally hardworking, and you loved him for his dedication to the house. It always felt warmer and cozier whenever he stayed, and you made sure to display your appreciation throughout the day by providing kisses to the cheek or gentle caresses to his hair.

Who wouldn’t be thrilled when their beloved greets them home and kisses them on the cheek? Now that he is residing in your private adeptal realm, it makes him look forward to returning home even more. To be back from a mission, only to kiss you, pick you up, and squeeze you lovingly in his arms.

Alas, despite his domestic joy, he was also becoming restless. Such a huge realm, you could have a whole area for dueling or training an army here. Therefore, he would start nagging at you throughout the day, asking you to join him.

“Come now, sweetheart! Just a quick morning stretch!” - He said from the living room’s doorway.

“Oh, I know! How about we make a shooting range outdoors and see who’ll get the most bullseye.” - his voice rang from downstairs.

“Or a one-on-one sparring match. That will get the blood flowing.” - he even stood behind the bathroom door, still imploring you through closed doors.

All this and more persisted. Even in the early morning, when your eyesight barely adjusted to the sunlight, the first thing you’d see is him leaning over your shoulders “Perhaps we can-” 

“Nope,” - you intercepted, albeit sleepily. Pulling him closer to bed, you made sure he went still in your arms. “No fighting. Only cuddles...”

“Oh? Is that your form of a challenge, darling? Be prepared, because I won't back down.”

[bouncybongfairy]

Everything & The Kitchen Sink

Butch Wolverine x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: Logan promised to come home early from the bar after her shift. You make dinner and get ready only for her to come home late and drunk. This some how leads to the two of you tribbing on the counter.

Word Count: 1.0k+

TW: Fingering, Tribbing, Nipple Play, Squirting

(THIS IS A W|W FANFIC)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were cleaning up the kitchen after making dinner. Logan was supposed to be home over an hour ago, she was working as a bouncer at a local bar. She promised you she’d come straight from work, you’d spent all day preparing for just that. Cleaning the entire apartment, did all the laundry, made dinner, ect. Took a long shower, exfoliated and moisturized. You already wrapped her plate up and stored it in the microwave. Preoccupying yourself by watching TV until you fall asleep. 

Logan carefully unlocked the door and saw you laying so still and statuesque. In comparison to what she sees at the bar all day you truly looked like an angel. The light of the television casting on you like you were glowing. She was past tipsy but not staggering or anything, she liked seeing how peaceful you were; knowing that once you woke up it’d be a completely different story. She opened the microwave and started salivating, it was her favorite. Baked potato with sour cream and chives, corn on the cob, two slabs of steak cooked medium rare, grilled shrimps and roasted carrots. 

It looked so amazing she didn’t bother heating it back up. Stuffing her face, only using utensils when she had too. She hadn’t eaten anything before or during work and drank on an empty stomach. It was like the plate was fucking glowing. Lighting the cigar she had tucked behind her ear. Too drunk to care that she was sparking up inside. She came over to you and ran her finger along your bare thigh. Wearing her tee shirt and the band of your panties peeking out. 

“Mmhm, you’re so soft,” she grumbled to herself, letting her calloused hand run up and down your skin. Stirring you awake and gently letting her body fall on top of yours. You were starting to stir awake, remembering how late Logan was. You push against her shoulders but she doesn’t care. Continuing to kiss your neck and grope your chest. The liquor and burnt smell of the cigar coming from her breath only reminded you of her loyalty to the bar. 

“You’re late,” you huffed, sitting up and trying to get out of her grip.

“Was a late night baby,” she mumbled.

“And you're drunk,” you said, successfully wiggling out of her grip. Picking up the coat she let drop on the floor when coming home. Logan took this opportunity to grip your hips and thrust herself against you. 

“So?” she laughed, pulling at the waistband of your panties and letting them snap against your skin. Entertained by how you jumped and squealed when the elastic hit you.

“I waited for a long time… I was all excited and you left me waiting..” you trail off. It sober her up a bit, knowing that you had waited for her while she lollygagged at the bar. Logan didn’t realize how much her company meant to you. Probably due to her own insecurity but she missed seeing the way she undervalued herself was affecting you. She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you to her chest. 

“I should have come right home. I’m sorry,” she said, kissing the top of your head. 

“It’s okay, I know you have a lot going on. Just promise for next time,” you said, wrapping your arms around her waist, “I’m glad you ate,” you said, noticing her dishes on the counter. 

Logan wasn’t paying attention anymore, now completely focused on running her hands down your body. She couldn’t get your smell out of her nose and it was starting to affect her self control. You were oblivious to how worked up she was becoming, Instead being off in your own little world. As much as you hated her cigar habit, the smell was somewhat comforting now as much as you complained about it. Sometimes you’d avoid washing the smoke smell off hoodies and pillow cases. You moved your hands up to her hair, brushing the loose stands out of her face. Eventually running your nails down her arms, you could feel the goosebumps form; her body hair standing somewhat making you giggle. 

She was breathing hard, especially when you looked up at her. Big doe-eyes staring up at her, eyelashes fluttering and hair messy from your nap. Logan smashed her mouth against yours, bringing her hands up to cup your face. Pressing herself against you, pinning your body to the kitchen island. Her thumbs rubbing your face as you work your tongues together. It was sloppy and getting more heated by the minute. She grabs you by the waist and sets you on the counter. Her eyes damn near boggling while watching the recoil of your breast from being sat down so hard. 

She grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it over your head, exposing your chest. Seeing her so animalistic and feral was making your stomach feel inflamed. A deep blush covering your face and neck while wetness starts to drip down your folds; Logan herself felt a heartbeat in her jeans. Your noses were pressed together and you could smell the whiskey on her breath. Normally it would bother you but it was undeniable that when Logan was drunk she didn’t hold back during sex. Normally she was more gentle, enjoying giving you pleasure. The liquor made her more brutish and unfiltered and it was so fucking hot. 

Hearing all the filth that slipped past her lips that normally went unheard due to her shyness. Using her strength against you, biting down on your soft skin with brutal force. Logan pecked your lips before moving down to your chest. Taking one of your nipples into her mouth and starts sucking and flicking her tongue. You ran your fingers through her hair and moaned loudly. Arching your back and balling your fists up in her hair. Your legs immediately begin to tremble from the pleasure. So sensitive from the anticipation that has been building in your belly all day. Resting your lips on the top of her head while groaning and whimpering into her hair. She pulled your panties to the side and used her middle finger to feel around your folds. 

Smearing your wetness all over your lips before pushing two fingers into your entrance. She was completely zoned out, having your tit in her mouth while curling and pumping her fingers in and out of you. Any time she nips at the senstative bud you tighten yourself around her fingers; only encouraging her to do it more. Your walls felt so velvety against her digits. She broke out of her daze and pulled away from you slightly to see your face and God what a sight it was. You were completely red in the face, practically panting trying to catch your breath. 

Eyebrows furrowed and nipples puffy and swollen; a light from above the kitchen island shining down on you. Making your chest glisten from the saliva covering your breast. You pulled her onto the counter to join you and started tugging at her jeans, which she quickly took off. Laying her back against the cold tile of the island. Before climbing on top of her, you sink your tongue between her folds. Spitting and flicking your tongue around, looking up to see Logan on her elbows. Cursing and sputtering while pushing herself against your mouth. Getting a little too excited you reach up and try grabbing at her chest. She snatches your wrists and pulls you towards her; now straddling her, you knees on either side of her hips.

 “I’m not that drunk,” she huffs and starts gripping your hips, prompting you to start grinding your hips. 

Now rubbing each other's sexes together, your wet folds sliding between one another. The tile was hurting your knees a bit but it didn’t stop you from quickening your pace. Finding the perfect rhythm, your clits continuously brushing against each other. Logan was arching her hips up, positioning herself so she could watch you ride her. Sitting up on her elbows and watching your tits bounce, saliva dripping onto her stomach. Too pussy-drunk to care if you were drooling or not.

“I’m cumming…” you groan out, taking her off guard.

Grabbing two handfuls of Logan's hair and pinning her fisting to the counter below you two. Your fists on either side of her head while riding out your orgasm. Squirting without stopping grinding your hips, causing the wetness to spread and spalsh all over Logan’s stomach. She immediately cums from watching you unraveling into a squirting fucked out mess. Digging her nails into your hips while thrusting her hips up, trying to get closer to you. Crying out, so overstimulated and jerking your hips forward. You collapsed on her chest, not giving a fuck about sleeping in your own wetness. Logan was too drunk to care, using the tee shirt to cover you like a blanket and falling asleep with you on her chest.

[audible-smiles]

eating salmon: an explanation

lox: thin cuts of salmon (traditionally the fatty belly meat) dry cured with salt, but not smoked. this results in a delicate texture and a very salty taste. lox originated in Scandinavia as a method of preserving fish prior to refrigeration, but the American English word is derived from Yiddish because Jewish delis in New York first popularized it as a bagel topping. since lox is a type of uncooked fish, it is not recommended for pregnant people, immunocompromised people, or seniors, due to the risk of contamination with listeria.

cold-smoked salmon: thin cuts of salmon brined (with less salt than lox) and then smoked below 90 degrees Fahrenheit. results in the same silky texture but a milder, more palatable taste. often called "Nova lox", referring to Nova Scotia but denoting a method of preparation rather than the fish's origin. this is usually what modern Americans are referring to when they use the term "lox". cold-smoking reduces but does not eliminate the risk of listeria.

hot-smoked salmon: salmon brined quickly and then smoked above 120 degrees Fahrenheit. results in a flaky, jerky-liked texture, a hard shiny surface, and a smoky flavor. (as a West-coaster, this is my preferred style!) hot-smoking eliminates listeria during the cooking process, but salmon can be recontaminated during the processing/packaging process if the facility is not sanitary. (really, this is true of all foods- vegetables, dairy products, etc).

salmon candy: a traditional Pacific Northwest hot-smoked salmon recipe where the brine is sweetened with brown sugar, and the smoked fish is glazed with a sauce containing birch or maple syrup.

salmon jerky: cured salmon hot-smoked for longer than usual or processed in a dehydrator until it is tough and chewy.

gravlax: a traditional Scandinavian raw salmon recipe where the brine contains sugar and dill. historically buried in the ground and lightly fermented. sometimes it is still pressed to give it a dense texture.

kippered salmon: thicker cuts of brined salmon hot-smoked above 150 degrees Fahrenheit. results in a texture similar to baked salmon.

salmon sushi/sashimi: completely raw fresh salmon. this didn't exist in traditional Japanese cuisine, where salmon was always cooked, possibly because the local wild salmon had a high burden of parasitic worms (anasakis nematodes). Norwegian fish sellers convinced them to try farmed Atlantic salmon raw in the 80s, and it really took off.

poached salmon: salmon cooked on the stove while submerged in liquid (often white wine with lemon). results in a moist, soft, cooked fish with a pale color. can be bland without sauce.

baked salmon: salmon cooked in an oven, often wrapped in aluminum foil with seasonings to retain moisture and flavor. can result in perfect, flaky fish (as long as you don't overcook it).

dishwasher salmon: look, sometimes white people wrap salmon in aluminum foil like they're going to bake it and then poach it in their dishwasher instead. this can work but is stupid because the temperature dishwashers run at isn't standardized, so you have no control over the process and it's easy to over or undercook.

pan-fried salmon: salmon cooked in oil on a stovetop. I've never done this and frankly it sounds wrong, but I bet it makes the skin crunchy.

broiled salmon: salmon cooked under a broiler. as with all broiled foods, you will have to stare at it the whole time or it will burn to a crisp while your back is turned. results in a caramelized exterior.

grilled salmon: to grill salmon people often put it on a Western redcedar plank pre-soaked in water, which supposedly infuses the salmon with a smoky, aromatic flavor while it cooks. I've seen the technique variously credited to the Haida, the Salish, and the Chinook. it seems to be a modern variation of the traditional "salmon on a stick" style of slow-cooking salmon by spearing it on branches and leaning it over the coals of an above-ground pit fire.

deep-fried salmon: this sounds absolutely awful but I simply cannot stop thinking about it

[crayonboxcolors607]

There are days when Steve wakes up and he hates his body. Looks in the mirror, disgusted, at the scars across his torso and neck, the stretch marks on his stomach and hips. How his thighs rub up against each other when he walks, how they expand when he sits down. Pulls meanly at the chub that’s accumulated at his tummy and chest. 

After the upside down, after everything, Steve gained weight.

Eddie says it’s because he wasn’t constantly in fight-or-flight mode anymore, and his body was finally able to relax.

Robin says it’s because he was destined to have a bit of a dad bod, that it was just the ruling of the universe.

He still works out though. He’s in great shape too. Goes on a few-mile-long run every morning. lifts three times a week. The only thing he’d strongly refused was dieting.

Steve remembers how his mother would come home from her trips with his father, her cheeks gaunt and pale even through her makeup. Her thin frame hidden by a ridiculously expensive shawl.

How she used to sit him down and force him to separate “good foods” from “bad foods”.

How there were never any sweets in the house.

Back when Steve was young enough to need a nanny while his parents were away, he would beg and plead with her to just let him try one piece of candy. One lick of a lollipop. The closest he ever got was three dark chocolate baking chips.

Afterward, when he was left alone, when he was responsible for feeding himself and getting groceries, he would stand in the produce section for fifteen minutes, his mother's voice ringing in his head. 

The first time he went to a movie and bought himself a soda and popcorn, he had to leave halfway through to cry.

The first time he had real candy, he almost had a panic attack.

It took him way too long to reteach himself about food, how to remember that food is food and food is fuel. That he should be listening to his body and eating what he wants when he’s hungry.

And here’s the thing. Steve knows that he’s the healthiest he’s ever been. Sees it in Mrs. Henderson’s eyes when he drops Dustin off, how he no longer hears her fussing about him being too skinny.

In Joyce’s smile when he gets up for seconds of his own cooking.

In Hopper and Wayne’s approving ‘dad nods’ when they all sit down over meat from the grill.

So on those days, when Steve wakes up and doesn’t feel like he’s right, he tries to remember that instead.

How Robin curled up against him one movie night, pausing before stating decisively, “You’re softer now dingus. It’s nice. Gives me the best pillow.”

How El will give him hugs that are tight tight tight and tell him he looks like a teddy bear she used to have.

How Eddie will absolutely worship him.

If that man could die beneath Steve, he would. Is far too obsessed with the way Steve’s ass moves.

They’ll get home from hanging out with the Party and Eddie won’t wait a single second before shoving Steve against the wall, mouthing at his neck.

How he pushes Steve onto the bed against his stomach, his face rubbing against the sheets as he braces his hands on Steve’s thighs in a way that causes bruises. Fucks his tongue into him, slow and sinful, telling him, “Go on sweetheart. That’s it, just like that. Doin’ so good for me.”  How Eddie moans like Steve is ambrosia from the gods and Eddie can do nothing but lap at their fountain.

How afterward, after steady thrusts and cries of each others’ names and the cooling of dried come, Eddie will cradle Steve close to his chest. Will whisper, “Love you so much, sweetheart. You’re it for me.” How he’ll sing him Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears, because as much as he preaches about hating the conformist bullshit and the top forty hits, he loves to see his boy happy, wiggling in Eddie’s arms as he sings Steve’s favorite song.

[green-fifteen]

Day 7: Kiss it Better

Prompt: Recovery Fandom: Teen Wolf Pairing: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Summary: Even a magical dad needs backup sometimes. Word count: 1,793 read on ao3 instead

written for @fluffyfebruary

The McCall house was full of people. They packed in together on the living room rug, leaned against the walls in the hallways, slid around each other in the kitchen to grab this or that. They spilled out of the door to the backyard, where John Stilinski and Chris Argent were not-so -passive aggressively fighting for control of the grilling spatula. Stiles couldn't believe they knew this many people, but he did recognize almost everyone he saw, with a few Argent exceptions.

His favorite (former) Argent was currently scrubbing a horrifically caked-on serving dish, muttering to herself about something he couldn't hear in the all of the party noise. Stiles, his hands and arms full of hot dog and hamburger buns, took pity on her. As Allison held the platter underwater, as if to drown it and be rid of it for good, he focused his gaze. It didn't take long for his magic to find the source of her problem and it scoured the baked-on food in an instant, as if it had never been there. She turned around to face him and almost grabbed him up in a hug before she noticed he was carrying bread. Thank you, you're amazing she mouthed instead.

These days, Stiles' magic was literally the ultimate household problem-solver. It seemed to have changed over the years as he settled and aged and now the things it did best basically amounted to chores. Cooking? Cleaning? Mysterious underwear stains? All he needed was a few seconds of focus and his magic could do it all.

Stiles waved away her thanks and continued outside to the patio, where the grill sat beside a pair of long white tables. There wasn't really any room for all the buns he held, so he just dropped them on top of some of the toppings, trusting the gathering of assorted mythical and/or magical beings to be able to open and use them for themselves. As he stood back, a shape darted out at his legs from beneath the tablecloth. Years of practice had honed his reflexes and he bent down to catch the beast just before it collided with his kneecaps.

"Grargh!" it cried, but its roaring dissolved into laughter as Stiles tucked it under one arm and began walking toward the woods that bordered the house on one side.

"I can't believe these creatures keep getting past my wards," he grumbled, letting out a frustrated huff. "Oh well." He set it down in the grass and nudged it with his foot. "Back to the woods with you, beast."

This time, the little thing jumped to tackle him, and Stiles let himself fall to the ground. "Oh no! Somebody, help!"

"Rarg! Graah!"

"I'm being mauled by a creature of the night!"

He continued wailing and being afraid for several moments, after which he seemed to find a second wind and pinned the little monster.

"I won't let you hurt any more innocent people," he cried, voice desperate and determined. "This is a birthday party!" And he reached down to tickle the creature's belly. It writhed in place, shrieking with laughter until suddenly it stopped. Stiles stopped too, watching its little face.

"Daddy," it said seriously. "I actually need to use the bathroom."

"Oh." Stiles climbed back to his feet and then lifted the little boy into his arms. Dry leaves and bits of grass clippings fell from their hair and clothes as they stood up.

"Do you need any help?" he asked.

"No. I can do it by myself," his son replied and then darted into the house.

"Patrick! No running on the patio," he called after him.

When he turned, his father was standing at his shoulder with a paper plate. "Grub time," he grunted. "Where's your husband? I bought cheddar dogs just for him and they're no good cold."

He shrugged and sighed. "He's supposed to be getting the cake but I think he got held up. He'll be here soon, just keep his food in the grill with the lid closed."

"Like I wasn't gonna do that anyway."

"Yes, yes, thank you, Dad."

At that moment, two things happened at once. Stiles heard glass break and turned his body toward the pool, where everyone seemed to have frozen in shock. Just as they started moving, everyone hurrying out of the water, he heard a second noise, one that kicked up his parental instincts the instant it hit his eardrums. Whirling around, he saw his kid sobbing on the concrete patio just in front of the sliding screen door, knee scraped up and beginning to bleed.

Without hesitation, he strode over to his son and hefted him into his arms. He was almost getting too heavy to be held like this and the screaming crying was happening way too close to his ear, but Stiles held on to him as he walked back over to the pool, trying to comfort him with soft words and rubbing his back.

Melissa McCall was pulling little kids out of the water, reassuring them gently that they'd be able to get back in soon. "You can't see shards of glass in the water," she said, voice gentle but firm. "You might really hurt yourself." As Stiles approached with his son, the kids looked up at him crying in pain and scrambled out as fast as they could.

Melissa met his eyes with a small smile, as if to say, Oh boy, what a mess.

Stiles could get the glass out of the pool. Without calling in a specialist or draining the pool, which would take too long, his magic was the only option if anyone wanted to use it again during the party. He looked at his son, gasping for breath where he was perched on his hip. Maybe he could calm him down and then come back to fix the pool? There was no way he'd be able to focus with him bleeding onto his jeans.

One thing at a time he told himself. He crouched down and pulled the little boy into his lap, rocking and shushing. "Really hurts, huh?" he murmured.

Patrick only wailed, tears and snot dripping down his face. Stiles heard another child start to cry somewhere nearby, likely startled by the glass breaking and only further upset by the sobbing Stiles had brought over the them. He was really starting to think, Those damn wolf powers would be pretty handy right about now and cursing his magic for being selectively useful, when a hand landed on his shoulder.

Derek was crouched on the balls of his feet just next to him, eyes fixed on Patrick's red face. To Stiles, he looked like an angel sent to rescue the both of them. He squeezed Stiles' shoulder lightly and then reached out for the boy.

"Hey, Pat," Derek said, gently. "Look, Pat, Papa's here."

Patrick's eyes flew open and he lunged forward into Derek's arms. Stiles fell back onto his hands and patted his husband's thigh in thanks. He could see black lines tracing their way up Derek's forearms, beginning with the little knee he held in one hand and traveling up under his sleeves. The pained wailing was already dropping off, replaced by Patrick's normal, more familiar fussing. Even that faded into the background as Derek walked them both over to the food table, kissing and soothing the little guy as he went.

Stiles turned back to the pool. It was the work of a few heartbeats to make it safe again-- he stared into the water and imagined he could hear the tinkling of the shards as molecules of water brushed over them. He imagined he saw their jagged edges glinting beneath the brighter gleam of the water's surface. Then-- blink-- suddenly he could see the fragmented pieces and he could hear the barely-there tinkling of water on glass. Focus came easily with something to fix it to and he let his magic free to find the problem. The pieces were gone in seconds.

"Alright!" he shouted. "Open swim!" The splashing started up again immediately and he had to scurry away to avoid being hit. Smiling, he made his way to the grill. His father was holding Patrick while Derek stood at the start of the condiment line with two paper plates, a burger on one and a cheddar-filled hot dog on the other.

Stiles stepped in close to him and kissed his bristly cheek. "You never stop saving my life," he chirped. Then, "Is that for me?"

"Yes." He handed Stiles the plate with the burger. "Sorry I was late, there was an issue at the bakery and then traffic was pretty bad on the way back."

Stiles tsked. "That's what we get for going to the bougie place for a five year old's birthday cake. Grocery store sheet cake next time."

"Agreed."

When they finished filling their plates and returned to their son, he was staring raptly at the sheriff, who was telling a story in big, exaggerated motions.

"And that's why you never peel off your band-aids, son," he was saying as they came within earshot.

When Patrick saw them, he squirmed out of John's hold to the ground and ran up to Stiles.

"Daddy," he said. "Papa made my leg feel better, but it still hurts. You have to kiss it so it heals and I don't get a bacterial infection." Stiles shot a bewildered look at his father, who only smiled serenely.

"Of course," he said, smiling when he looked back at his son, then planted a loud kiss to the skin just below the open wound. "Now it will heal all better in no time. No infections."

Patrick stood up and dashed away before Stiles could even process it, screeching and chasing one of his little playmates.

"Has he eaten yet?" Derek asked him. Stiles stood up cracked his back.

"He can eat later. Or maybe he'll just have cake for dinner. It's his birthday, who cares?"

Derek sighed but smiled and tugged Stiles into a hug. "I cares. You cares. We all cares when the birthday boy doesn't fall asleep tonight. And Daddy and Papa and Patrick all stay up doing jigsaw puzzles until midnight again."

"You love family puzzle time," Stiles counters, poking him in the ribs.

"Is there really nothing else you would rather do tonight?" He pushed his nose into the space behind Stiles' ear. "I haven't seen you all day." He breathed in a huge inhale.

"Quit sniffing me, my dad is standing right there." Stiles smacked him and pulled out of the embrace. "Fine, I'll go track down the beast. Make a plate for him?"

Derek hummed an agreement and Stiles took off after their kid.

[britt-kageryuu]

The guys are sitting around a large table that has a long grill through the middle, with a couple metal plates on some parts that act as griddles. The table seems to be on a rooftop somewhere, but the skyline is blocked by canvas sheets painted to look like a New York City Skyline.

The guys are all dressed in color coded shorts, their masks, and shirts with different graphics on them. Raph = an Aligator Snapping Turtle holding a barbell in its mouth wearing sweatbands, Donnie = Reboot Process Interrupted Current Mood: Murderous, Leo = a turtle covered ing glitter with a unicorn horn on its head, Mikey = I have a Psychology Degree and am Eager to Use It! (Threat).

They were having Yakiniku, with a few other things on the grills and griddles, chatting among eachother, and answering questions from the chat. On one end Mikey was experimenting with 'steam baking' a cake on the griddle.

Shelldon is flying around the area announcing the questions, while River is in stand-by/sleep mode on a box in the back charging. Shelldon is also acting as a speaker playing music as he floats around.

"So we had to send someone to grab some more ingredients, the poor new guy was so confused by the list, so I volunteered to go with him." Mikey says as he checks his experiment, "This guy apparently never went shopping in the marketplace before, and I swear he almost overpaid on ingredients, so many times. Senior Hueso gave us a budget, and I wanted to make sure we stuck to it."

Shelldon swerves around next to Donnie, "Hey Dad, TechnoTurtle, wants to know how you have so many 3D models in such a short amount of time. Got any answers Dude-Dad?"

Donnie was in the middle of eating so it took a minute for them to answer, "Well to be honest, I have planned to make numerous games with 3D models in the past, and then lost interest for various reasons. So I had all the Models saved on a spare memory bank." They pause to take a sip of their drink, "And before we get a question about the many outfits, I left some odd videogame clothes/costume data attached to the models so it's very easy to add new outfits. Think of our Models as videogame avatars instead of VTuber models. Also I don't know what programs others normally use for making VTuber models, Mandarin and I have been using a mix of my programs, and some free to use art programs."

Mikey is seen moving his cake experiment to a counter near the table to cool under a netted cube, "I may have made our original model concepts, and done some minor rigging for them, but once we discovered the mix of programming we use now, yeah definitely better for us. I may love doing art, but making models for VTubing was more complicated than I wanted to deal with." Mikey quickly grabs a few pieces of meat and veggies from the grill with tongs, "Heck, once I told everyone I designed our models, I had to emphasize on my commission page that I don't do models. But I have been making 2D, 2.5D model Assets, with a wide variety of skin tones, and even different species variants." Mikey says with some pride in his voice.

Leo was about to say something, but stopped to stare as Donnie starts to eat a sandwich, he made with grilled meats and veggies, whole. It wasn't an unusual sight for the guys, but it's been a while since he last saw Donnie do this. And that's not to mention the audience who are all very confused and concerned by this.

"I don't know why I'm surprised to see you eat like that Dee, but Wow. I forgot you could-" Leo paused for a sec, "That almost came out very wrong. And not in a way I would want to say."

Sadly some of the audience was able to pick up on the almost innuendo, thankfully they didn't mention it in chat, but they did make memes out of the clip.

Donnie looked at Leo with great offense after finishing his sandwich. "Annoyed Huff. Rude. Dear Brother, you can not fault me for my softshell instincts!" They say with a huff and crossed arms. Their tail seen whipping around behind them.

Raph just lets out a sigh with a shake of his head. "You two are always so chaotic with eachother. But you're my knucklehead brothers." He uses some custom chopsticks to flip the meat he put on the grill before eating it after a few seconds.

The stream goes on with more chatting, and eating, though after a bit of time they're joined by April, Cass, and CJ. With a note that their Dads are on vacation, to get away from some the guys chaotic antics recently.

The chaotic antics in question were not mentioned, much to the audiences great disappointment.

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

Masterpost

This was at least partly my original idea for their 4th of July post, but I decided that the guys would rather just enjoy the festivities instead of streaming the entire time.

And yes Donnie is swallowing the sandwich whole. I just realized how wrong/weird it sounds to describe that hence the 'unspoken innuendo' line.

[triskhellion]

The first part of Customer Service.

Rated: Explicit (10.8K)

Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Laura Hale, Alan Deaton

Tags: Omega Derek, Human Stiles, Getting Together, Coffee Shop AU, Surly Barista Derek, Sleepy College Student Stiles, Vulgar Latte Art, Heat Sex, Virgin Stiles, Versatile Derek/Stiles, Dominant Bottom Derek, Service Top Stiles, Embarrassment, Praise Kink, Various Explicit Sex Acts, Knotting, Biting, Derek call Stiles kitten, Cat Ears, Collars & Leashes, Werewolves Are Known.

Derek:

Derek had been told on multiple occasions that his customer service left much to be desired — the earlier it was, the grumpier he was — but apparently some people were into that. Considered it an authentic surly barista coffee shop experience or something. The rest of the patrons overlooked it because he made an espresso even meaner than he was, poured beautiful latte art (if he didn’t hate you) and could make the perfect Reuben. 

Also because it was the only coffee shop in this neighborhood that opened at a miserable 5:30am, which Laura mandated during the week and meant having to come in at 5:00 to get things ready. So the early bird caffeine fiends and danish devotees either had to deal with him at least some of the time or wait until a much more reasonable 7:00am to go to Hot Shots or Francine’s instead. That or learn to make their own pumpkin bread, cappuccinos, and seven syrup oat milk monstrosities at home. 

Then there were those who didn’t mind because they thought he was hotter than the panini grill that he managed to burn himself on at least once almost every day. (Fortunately, he had werewolf healing.) Derek didn’t much care what anyone thought as long as they got off the phone to order and kept it moving, especially when there was a line.�� 

When some obviously new kid — almost certainly a student at the college up the street — stumbled in at almost a quarter after 6:00 Monday morning, somehow giving the impression of wide-eyed gawking while squinty from lack of sleep, he wondered which kind of customer he’d be. Derek went back to doing the soup prep for lunch knowing that it’d probably be a while before Squinty read the menu and then actually made up his mind. 

Stiles:

Stiles was not a morning person, but when he decided to transfer from BCCC to BSU after one year instead of two the only available time left for one of the classes he needed was 7:00am on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Why would a professor even do such a thing? (The answer was apparently so that the nursing students, athletes, and others who needed to finish earlier in the afternoons could attend, but pssh, whatever Professor Stanton.) 

Thankfully, there was a coffee shop that opened at stupid o’clock about halfway between his new place and the 20 minute walk to school (or 3 minute drive when he’d inevitably run late, but he’d try to get a little exercise this way when possible and it also gave him an excuse to explore the neighborhood on his walks back home.) TrisKettle Café it was called and it had a triple spiral thingy for a logo. Cool.

He nearly moaned when he opened the door and the scent of sweet sweet coffee (well, bitter coffee, but you know) wafted over to him. He hadn’t bothered to check out the menu online just being glad that the cafe existed at all. Stiles had slept in over the weekend and when he got up today and realized that he’d lost track of where he’d packed even his emergency instant coffee he almost cried. He figured he’d have a look around and pick whatever was available and sounded good. 

After checking out the baked goods selection he made his decision and planned to order for here. He had 25 minutes or so to kill before he had to leave. Stiles saw that the barista was in the middle of doing something with a large pot so took a couple minutes to read the framed article clippings on the nearest wall. 

They had opened just two years ago and the owner was a young woman named Laura Hale. There was a picture of her and her family smiling on the sidewalk out front; a middle aged couple who he assumed were her parents, a young man and a teenage girl who were probably siblings, and a man in his mid-20s with one arm around her shoulder and the other holding a toddler.

Well, most of them were smiling. The younger guy, who was admittedly quite handsome, had what was at best a pretty neutral expression. Underneath it listed their names: Talia Hale, Nathan Hale, Cora Hale, Aaron Hale, Emily Hale. One of the names in the middle was partially crossed out until it only said D Hale. Huh.

Stiles glanced at the time on his phone and then approached the counter. The barista turned around before he could say anything sporting whatever the male version of Resting Bitch Face was. Bastard Face? Jerk Face? At any rate, it was the dude from the picture and his name tag indeed just said D. 

“Hi, can I have one of the almond pear pastries and a large latte for here?”

“Yeah, it’ll be $8.25.”

Stiles handed over a $10 bill and then dropped the change in tip jar marveling at D’s ability to instantly do even the most rudimentary math this early in the morning. 

There was no one behind him so he stayed at the counter reading the lunch menu and daily specials and the funny stickers on the register and tip jar. He idly turned sideways to lean against it to look at the art on the other side, but miscalculated and lost his balance, catching himself with an arm smacking the wooden surface after a moment of flailing. When he looked up D was watching him and raising an impressive, judgmental eyebrow. 

“Should I put this in a to-go cup…” he more stated than asked, walking back over to towards him as the espresso machine whirred.

“Nah, th-that’s okay, I got it,” Stiles stammered, flushing with embarrassment. “It’s my first day having to get up this early for classes and I’m not used to it yet. Hopefully once I get some caffeine in my system my motor skills will improve at least slightly and my brain will stop questioning reality.”

“As long as you don’t break this mug you can hallucinate as much as you want.”

“More like Hale-ucinate, amirite?”

D stared at him silently for several seconds and Stiles fidgeted awkwardly. Just before he was about to slink away to wait for his latte over by the wall the barista shook his head and sighed.

“I hate that I thought that was funny,” he replied in a monotone, expression not noticeably changing in any way as he went to finish preparing the drink.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me, but if you say so,” Stiles mumbled under his breath after the barista was out of earshot.

Or so he’d thought. The retreating man froze and then turned around, glaring.

Oh shit, how did he actually hear th—Oh fuck, he must be a werewolf! I’m going to get ripped to shreds. Hopefully only metaphorically.

Stiles had just moved to what he referred to as his “shanty studio” last Thursday from his Dad’s place on the other side of the county and hadn’t heard much, if any, of the local gossip yet. Including that the Hales were apparently werewolves. 

It had been a few years since the Big Reveal and aside from the usual bigots and rabble rousers and the occasional terrorist plot (which had already been a thing, so not much had changed except the growing list of targets for fanatics) things had calmed down considerably. There were still tensions of course, but most folks ended up more or less shrugging their shoulders in the end since the Weres had clearly been here the whole time and a significant amount of folks either knew a werewolf or knew someone that did. 

Stiles still wasn’t in the habit of considering that someone he ran into randomly could be a wolf though. There had only been the one elderly couple back home — at least that were open about it anyway — and they’d lived there for ages.  

When his latte arrived the foam was artfully formed in the shape of an exceptionally detailed dick. Instead of getting huffy about it like the werewolf probably expected, Stiles merely snorted and grinned. He took a sip, licking the froth from his top lip after.

“Thanks for the D, D!” he called cheerfully, saluting before going to find a seat in the back corner.

Derek:

Derek cracked a smile as the new kid walked away. So he was the easy going sort. That was good. He told himself it was just because the last thing he needed was another uptight and irate early morning customer and not because he was very cute and smelled nice and caught the attention of his wolf. No, definitely not. 

Said new customer quickly became a regular at the shop, coming in on his early class days and sometimes an additional day or two a week, though either in the late mornings or afternoons then. Derek refused to do more than 3 opening shifts a week, so he sometimes saw him on those days too. He learned that Squinty aka New Kid’s name was Stiles and when he asked “What kind of a name is that?” the impish bastard replied with “One with more than a single letter.” Touché.

Derek had poured him a foam ass vaguely reminiscent of goatse that time, but also gave him a bag of leftover brownies and pastries from the previous day. Surprised, Stiles thanked him and the smile he gave in return lit up his whole face. When Derek realized he’d been staring he grunted out a sarcastic “You’re welcome” and went to wipe down the already clean prep table behind him. 

He’d noticed that Stiles only bought food with his beverage once or twice a week and sometimes just got regular drip coffee to drink as well and figured he’d help the likely rather broke student out. They often put leftovers out in a way so that folks who needed food could safely take it, but their favorite regulars got some too.

Their baked goods were delicious if he said so himself, but after two years there was only so much of them even a family of werewolves cared to put away. They only made the brownies, cookies, and pumpkin, banana, and rotating specialty breads in house since pastry dough was beyond all of the Hale siblings. Cora, who worked a few hours after school some days and usually one longer weekend shift, once made a batch of “kwa-sahns” so hard that they were only fit to be used as doorstops.

As the weeks went by it became a goal of his to make Stiles smile or laugh with different outrageous and occasionally cute or actually pretty designs each time he ordered his usual. The last time he’d made him a silly little fox. Derek couldn’t help sometimes imagining the mischievous, all too appealing human lapping at him like he shamelessly did with the foam on his lattes or the whipped cream on the hot cocoas he got from time to time instead.

Stiles:

Going to TrisKettle was often the highlight of his day, which was somewhat unfortunate seeing as that was usually at the very start of it and so it was all at least relatively downhill from there. So it went. Stiles had been doing fine in his classes, but was not particularly enthused this term of yet more pre-recs. He’d made some pals to hang around with in between classes and to study or do projects with in the meeting rooms at the library, but that was pretty much the extent of things so far. 

But the coffee shop, that was the place he got both his caffeine and banter fixes. He’d gotten to know Laura herself, who opened most of the mornings that D didn’t (her husband, Aaron usually did so once a week.) She was sunny and talked with her hands and was pretty much the opposite of her brother, except for the sarcasm that they had in common. A trait which was also shared with Baby Hale Demon, aka Cora, who flipped him off whenever they crossed paths, but clearly enjoyed their own verbal sparring. There were a few other folks that worked there as well, mostly fellow students at the college, but none from his classes.

And of course D, who was in a category all on his own. Between the hilarious foam art and the much appreciated bags of day olds once or twice a week and the rare and therefore immensely more valuable smiles bestowed upon him when he managed to truly amuse the werewolf, making him even more unfairly gorgeous, Stiles was having all sorts of thoughts and feelings. Sigh. 

But now was not for brooding; it was a Friday and he could worry about all that later when he was home or between classes. Now was for drinking coffee — he’d mix things up with a mocha to-go today since he’d arrived later than usual — and trying to make his favorite grumpy barista smile. 

D grunted a greeting and dropped a still slightly warm napkin wrapped chocolate peanut butter cookie on the counter in front of him, which he demolished in seconds after paying for his drink with his debit card and dropping a dollar in the tip jar. While his drink was being made Stiles called out to the werewolf.

“Hey D, what do you drink when you’re feeling depressed?”

“Whisky with wolfsbane,” he deadpanned. Stiles inhaled sharply.  

“Oh, um, I was trying to tell a joke, but that’s, uh, good to know, I, uh—“

“I know,” the werewolf said, turning around with a smirk.  Then he rolled his eyes. “It's fine, go on.”

“It’s a coffee based beverage if you want to guess…” he said, trailing off and trying not to grin too much. D merely raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

“A desolatte!” 

The barista snorted and actually let out a little chuckle before pouring his drink and Stiles felt all accomplished and warm inside. When he got his mocha it had a sad to-go cup drawn on the cardboard sleeve. How delightfully meta, he thought, now practically glowing. Yeah, he was going to keep that. Then he glanced at the clock and realized he had to leave right now if he wanted to make it to class on time, if not a few minutes late. 

“Ack, gotta run. Thanks for the cookie and stuff!” he cried, dashing out of the café with a smile on his face.

Derek:

A few minutes after Stiles left another customer handed Derek his debit card, which had fallen onto the ground at some point. After preparing that order he pulled it out from where he’d temporarily stashed it under the register and looked at it curiously.

Mieczysław Stilinski. He tried to sound it out and probably butchered it horribly. Well that explained both the nickname itself and its usage. He’d put it somewhere safe and give it to Stiles the next time he came in. Tell the others too in case it was when he wasn’t there. 

Just before he was getting ready to clock out around 12:30 the younger man came barreling back in.

“Hey, I have to run again soon to get back for my third class, but did you happen to—“

Derek pulled out the card with a smirk and Stiles made an exaggerate gesture of relief before reaching over to take it from him. Their fingers brushed and he heard Stiles' heart pick up a bit.

“Th-thanks dude—“ 

“Don’t call me dude.” 

Stiles took a breath and rolled his eyes. 

“Thanks, D. I was trying to grab something to eat for lunch and realized my card was gone.”

“You want a Reuben?” he asked, heading over to the back counter.

“Sure! You know I don’t think I’ve ever actually had one before…” 

Derek whipped around scandalized and narrowed his eyes. 

“You’re not someone who only eats crustless peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and mac n’ cheese and pizza rolls are you?” he asked accusingly.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and avoided his gaze.

“I mean, I do like all of those things and eat them pretty regularly, but I like trying other stuff too.”

“Good,” Derek replied firmly. Whew, crisis averted. He quickly assembled the sandwich — thinly sliced corned beef and Swiss cheese with sauerkraut and Russian dressing (not that imposter Thousand Island!) on rye — and placed it on the panini grill, pressing it down. While it was getting all nice and melty- toasty he turned back to the antsy human with a smirk.

“I see why you go by Stiles, but your weird ass name is cool.” 

The younger man blushed and grinned. God, he was pretty.

“Well, you can call me 'M' then, D,” Stiles said, winking.

“Derek,” he whispered confidentially. Fair was fair after all and he liked the idea of him knowing. Dark amber eyes widened and Stiles repeated it under his breath smelling of happiness and other pleasant emotions. Yum.

The timer went off and interrupted the lascivious direction of his thoughts. He put the Reuben straight onto some parchment lined foil, burning himself slightly in the process of course, and rolled it up.

“Here you go, now shoo,” he said, handing Stiles the sandwich. 

“But I have to pay for—“

“Nope. Get out of here. You have 5 seconds. 5…4…3…”

The human laughed and started running. 

“Thanks, Sauerwolf!”

Derek hmphed. “Sauerwolf,” huh? Well, it was better — or at least more creative — than “dude,” but Stiles was definitely getting a frowning poop with flies or a middle finger on his latte next time. 

Stiles:

He was standing in line the following Tuesday and checking his email on his phone when he heard the woman 2 spots ahead of him ask for an almond pear pastry. 

“Sorry, we’re all out,” D replied, not sounding very sorry at all.

He groaned internally. Those were his favorite and he even came in earlier than usual for an off day in hopes of grabbing one while getting his much needed dose of D caffeine. Stiles greeted Derek (he was still giddy about that) and was about to ask what he’d recommend instead when the werewolf set down a latte with a foam face-hugger from Aliens in front of him along with an absolutely scrumptious looking almond pear pastry in typical rough fashion.

A huge grin spread across his face and there was a ghost of a smile on Derek’s lips as well as he rung Stiles up.

“Thanks, dude! You’re the best.”

The Eyebrows™ scrunched together as the werewolf glared at him and extended a singe claw — whoa, he’d never seen any shifting in person before! — making as if to snag back the pastry.

“Derek! You’re the best, Derek!”

The barista huffed and let the nail on his right pointer finger go back to normal. 

“I know. But just call me D when there’s people around. I don’t want all these other yahoos thinking they can use it.”

“Ok, sure. Thanks again, D!”

“You’re welcome, M.”

He headed for his usual table, which luckily became available again while he was in line, feeling fluttery and aglow again. Derek not only knew his favorites in the standard barista-regular way, but bothered to save him food on the chance that he might come in on a given non-early day. Meaning he thought about him when he wasn’t around. Stiles was allowed to use name in private, perhaps implying that there might be less public occasions. 

Or maybe he just meant when the store was slow. Don’t get ahead of yourself, his voice of reason and hope-avoidance warned. Whatever, the werewolf at least clearly liked him even if he wasn’t sure in what way or to what extent. 

When the customer that was before him earlier saw what was on his plate and gave him the stink eye he only smiled back at her and shrugged in a “What-can-you-do?” way. Sorry lady. I happen to be favored of one Derek Hale: Prince of Pastry, Danish Don, Lord of Lattes. She actually went up to complain then and Derek looked her right in the face and said that he had already ordered it before coming in. Stiles had a feeling that the next time the woman came into the shop while he was working that they would have “pre-sold” all of the almond pear pastries then too.

Later when he’d finished the essay he was working on he wandered back to the counter during a post-lunch rush lull before heading out.

“I thought werewolves didn’t lie?”

“Who the hell said that?” Derek asked incredulously. “Lying to werewolves is generally pointless, but we can lie to you guys all we want. I mean, she wasn’t a werewolf nor was anyone else currently in, but if she had been I would’ve simply said that you had a standing order, which is true as far as I’m concerned.”

And with that Derek turned around to ostensibly wash his hands. Were his ears a bit red?

“Bye D,” Stiles called, his stupid heart doing its stupid flips again as the barista did a sharp salute/wave gesture over his shoulder. 

Derek:

When Derek woke up Friday morning more than an hour before his already ridiculous 4:15am alarm he growled in frustration. He’d gotten what, four, maybe five hours of sleep? It was unusually hot in the room and he kicked off the blanket and sheet before groaning and getting out of bed to get some water. Derek had serious words for whoever invented mornings this early. He also pushed down his pajama pants and stepped out of them and then poured himself a glass from the bathroom faucet.

Derek felt slightly better after the cool drink and wet a hand towel to press to his face. He idly scratched at his belly and tried to reach the middle of his back, but couldn’t quite reach .He leaned against the bathroom wall rubbing his back on the cool tile. That helped, but then he felt another one on his upper back and he just pulled off his tank top. He was walking back to the bed to at least rest some more if not sleep before having to actually get up for work when the light bulb in his brain belatedly flickered on.

Oh shit. Feeling hot, thirsty, itchy skin, irritable…well, even more so than usual. And now that he was alert and paying attention, the sense of his body needing something and vague horniness…Goddamnit, he was going into heat! A couple weeks earlier than expected for some reason. Fuck. 

He waited until 4:00 to call Laura and she picked up on the 7th ring.

“Der?” she muttered groggily.

“Hey Laur, sorry but I’m going to need you or Aaron to cover my shift today if you want the store open before 7:30.”

His sister sighed heavily in annoyance, but then must’ve honed in on something in his voice.

“Hey, what’s going on, bro?”

“Heat.”

“Oh shit, isn’t that kinda early?” she asked surprised. He was scheduled for the most likely week off as he’d been pretty regular, but they also had an expectation of flexibility in case it happened the week before or after instead. But this was the week before that.

“Yeah,” he grumbled.

“It’s okay, Der,” she soothed, now sounding more awake. “Is there anything you need before, you know, everything gets started?”

He took a deep breath. God, she and Aaron were going to tease him about it. Then Cora would inevitably find out and be an absolute menace. 

“Der?” 

“Let me know if Stiles comes in,” he mumbled.

There was a pause and then words started tumbling out.

“Oh my god, for real?! Holy crap, Der. Good for you, I didn’t know that—“

Derek shook his head and hung up on her. Moments later he sent her a message:

 Shut up. Love you. Thanksss!

He sighed. Now to wait. Derek couldn’t narrow it down further since he’d been asleep when the symptoms first started, but he now probably had somewhere between 11 hours at most and 6 hours at least before it really kicked in and he became an insatiable mess. 

If Stiles was coming in as usual he’d have to wait another 2-3 hours before he’d know one way or the other. He also needed to make up his mind about whether to spend this heat alone or put a hold on a Service Alpha should the younger man fail to stop by or be either unwilling or unable to do the deed. The many many deeds. 

Derek recoiled at the thought. Neither his human nor wolf side wanted anyone else.  Being without a partner was something of a miserable experience though and would mean an extra day out of commission, 4 or so days instead of 3-ish. It also required having someone, Laura or his mother or perhaps a hired assistant, check on him once or twice a day to make sure that he was okay. Eating and, more importantly, drinking enough fluids among other things. 

But he really didn’t want some no doubt perfectly decent, but not right rando fucking him even if his body would eventually get with the program. No, Derek knew exactly what he wanted and if it came down to it he would rough it out this time. He prayed to the omega gods that it wouldn’t come to that.

Come on, Stiles. 

Click here for the smutty rest!

[guessimate]

Today I'm finishing playing the Bruni family, whom we visited in the previous post already. I'm playing the main part of the family for 2 seasons, therefore we are also starting round VII.

I rolled another ROS for them and it turned out to be a time of fast/lent. Sims would only be allowed to eat one meal at a table a day (excluding pregnant sims and children). I decided against using fresh ingredients like fish because they are very filling, and I had my sims prepare regular grilled cheese instead.

I also allow my sims to drink water from the sink if they are on the brink of heatstroke etc. I decided against rolling for possible deaths, at least for this household, since they were already getting two deaths of old age anyway.

Additionally, I only allowed my sims to go to the community bathhouse once this round, because I didn't want their needs to reset or something. Hungry and stinky sims are not very cooperative...

Apparently Romans would fast if an important battle was coming, but I hope no war will come to my empire yet... From my limited google research it looks like Romans would only eat 1 proper meal per day on a regular basis... I don't think Sims would appreciate it very much.

Since the emperor is dying this round, this lent could be to honor his death. Because this ROS is happening to the emperor's family, I decided to apply it to everyone in the summer. Emperor Geatano imposed a lot of rules on his people, first banning marriages in spring, and now asking his people to hold a fast.

This ban could turn out to be really bad for the Orange family who have a werewolf. On the other hand the Imagos were baking a lot last round, perhaps in preparation for what was to come.

~*~

The imperial couple got their wedding anniversary, but I didn't throw any more parties for their grandchildren's birthdays. I didn't think it would make much sense to eat cakes if they were fasting, so everyone aged up without much fanfare.

~*~

I decided to give the future emperor Mnevis a shorter hairstyle when he aged up. Apparently facial hair and long hair in general was unacceptable at some point in the Roman Empire, so it would make sense to have all my male sims have their hair shaved once the new emperor rises to power.

Mnevis took a liking to the arts and drew some pictures of his grandparents. He's going to be a patron of arts with his 8 creativity skill points. He's following into his uncle Nepri's footsteps (who had drawn a picture of his now deceased brother before). The emperor's estate is slowly turning into an art gallery.

~*~

Because all Geatano wanted to do was to send his offspring to university and university is not unlocked until the Middle Ages, I decided to fulfill Nepri's wish of getting into the private school.

The headmaster was not very impressed with the big and largely empty rooms, but he absolutely loved talking to the empress and he thought the Sunday meal was exquisite (starving will do it to you!). They really bribed him with a freshly-cooked meal of blackened catfish in the time of fasting.

~*~

What's up with my Knowledge aspiration teens and getting Ds because they don't want to do homework...? It's the second time it's happening in this neighbourhood! Maybe it makes sense. After all they didn't go to school as children in 'prehistorical' times and now they are struggling to grasp the basics.

Nepri got a D and then wanted to learn to study and get an A. Sadly, he didn't manage to get through his huge pile of homework. Thankfully his grades only deteriorated so much at the end of his teenage years, so he didn't get fired from his job. He's still a Seminary Student level 3 of the Church of the Watcher career and he kept his job level when he aged up into an adult.

Nepri was afraid of being uneducated, but unfortunately this fear had to come true... Even though he was a happy teen, aspiration failure awaited him on his birthday. Even if it weren't ancient times, he probably wouldn't have gone to university with almost failing grades.

Nepri is attracted to Venus Primula, the Knowledge aspiration alien. It took him a while to get a crush on her, but he wanted to have a dream date and make out, so eventually he caught some feelings towards her. I will probably play the Oranges (and Venus) next.

~*~

I thought the emperor and his wife would die this round, but I had some odd bug with them getting extra days of life, as if they had drunk the elixir of life. In the end, I aged them up with the sim blender to help them get to the place of eternal rest.

Empress Bunefer died having accumulated ~325.000 aspiration points, and Geatano had ~250,000 points when Grim Reaper finally decided to pay him a visit. They died happy, having produced 6 children and 6 grandchildren (and counting, but they'll never meet more of them!).

The emperor's seat is technically vacant now. Nepri will sit on the throne before he gives it to his nephew (who is still a child for now).

~*~

Sesheshet was rolled to be a Romance sim, like her aunt Baset. I do have hopes that she will turn out to be more into finding her one true love when she ages to an adult, but I will allow her to do her exploring as a teen if she wants to.

~*~

Gautseshen and the court jester will be back home next round to tell the tale of Satet and the Far East... But the original emperor won't be there to listen to them.

[squeakpip]

hello there!! how's your week been? any projects, playlists, books, recipes, etc that strike your fancy to ramble about?

i've been sick this week but i am slowly overthrowing the goop that has taken over my body. putting this together has been a nice distraction, so it got super long

Knitting

just before i got sick, i put a (mostly) handspun cardigan to block. the spinning of this was a tiny bit of a spite project, based on how frequently people talk about "muddy" colors in handspun in a disparaging way. as a brown lover, i took offense and decided to make a rainbow-but-brown cardigan incorporating every technique i could think of that people tell new spinners not to use because it will muddy their yarn. the last two pics gives a vague sense of how much optical color mixing you get from afar vs. up close, but the effect works better irl.

(fiber is all corriedale from Hello Yarn's fiber club)

i used 8+ years old leftover brown cascade eco for the cuffs, hem, pocket trim, and double-knit buttonband. this bit me in the ass, because i ran out with about 6" of band to go, and obviously couldn't get a dyelot match. thankfully, it was the button side of the band so the lighter bit will be mostly hidden, but i am pissed that i had to buy another 250g skein of yarn for a project where i was using up leftovers. also my button order got canceled so i need to source new ones. perhaps this project is slightly cursed. but i'll stash it away until autumn and it'll feel like i get a new sweater, just like i imagined, that i didn't even have to knit.

Spinning

currently working on two different spins, both for scarves.

on my spinolution wheel i have a brown-green-blue-white gradient destined to be woven, although i haven't been able to find the right weft yet. (fingering weight, plied, primarily nonsuperwash wool, pale pink that leans coral/orange...) i may end up dyeing it myself if i haven't found the right yarn by the time i get to weaving it.

i'm also spindling the finest yarn i possibly can, for some sort of garter stitch lace shawl situation. the fiber is a decently textured batt that includes silk nepps, so it will be gently tweedy. everyone who sees it says the fiber looks like bacon, but it's based on the dyer's cat, Mungo.

Weaving

before i got sick, my goal was to warp my loom for floral overshot kitchen towels, which is what everyone in my family will be getting as a winter holiday gift. maybe next week when i am more confident in my ability to count.

Music

here's what's been stuck in my head lately for each language i speak. apparently i'm stuck in the 90's and very much the bug, not the windshield this week

Vittles

my go-to tea for the past 6 months has been a 50/50 mix of adagio's hazelnut and this baked apple tea. this started as an attempt to make the most autumnal tea possible (and tone down the cinnamon of the baked apple), but i recently committed to it enough to pre-mix a whole tin of it instead of just blending it in the infuser. i take it with homemade vanilla syrup and milk.

any day that i'm not eating çilbir i'm thinking about when i can have it again

i'm also obsessed with claire saffitz's gooey butter cake recipe (if you have ever wanted to just eat cake batter, this is the cake for you).

i have recently perfected my pretentious grilled cheese game with

some type of fruit preserve (i've used earl grey and apple jelly, apple butter, marmalade)

one slice of american cheese for melt

one slice of trader joe's scotch bonnet cheddar for heat

thick cut ham

homemade pickled red onions

serve with sliced cucumber or tomato sprinkled with cavender's seasoning, and/or apple slices, preferably arranged in a silly design so you feel like your adult self (sandwich) is reaching through time to shake your toddler self's (sides) hand

i've also been making what can only be described as a vaguely korean crunchwrap, which started as a fridge clean-out meal and has taken on a life of its own

trader joe's frozen bulgogi beef

egg scrambled over the reheated beef

matchstick carrots or cucumber

pimento cheese spread

kimchi

cilantro

green onion

tortilla chips for crunch (optional, i rarely have chips around)

wrapped in a flour tortilla, griddled until golden

Other Things I've Been Enjoying Lately

my new haircut and color (lime green! i've never dyed my hair before! i'm such a brave little cartoon character now!)

https://weepingwitch.github.io/sudoku

https://www.youtube.com/@BerylShereshewsky

modded minecraft. i'm splitting my time between vault hunters (i am so so bad at it), my own whimsical but slightly dark fantasy 1.20.1 pack, and my gritty 32x conquest+ pack inspired by https://www.youtube.com/@lowresbones's the hammer series

daydreaming about an unfaithful recreation of my favorite summer drink from a closed cafe. their thing was orange juice, soda water, and jasmine syrup. i made jasmine syrup last summer and it turned out weirdly grassy and gross, so i'm going to try lavender or rosemary instead.

speaking of rosemary, i also have the stuff to make brown butter rosemary rice krispie treats! can't wait until i have the energy to both make and eat food that's interesting again. herby sweet treats my beloved <333

[koreoftheearths]

Grocery Shopping

I didn’t proofread this. 

The fridge light turned on, revealing to Kenji a variety of grapes (courtesy of Cassandra), a barely full carton of milk, and enough condiments to have their own section at a farmers market. It was definitely time to go shopping again. Last time, they waited too long and every takeout place in the area started saving their number. All of the college attending members even began swiping their meal cards for other members of the group. Personally, Kenji’s favorite was the old lady at the burger grill. If he smiled and tilted his head just a little, she gave him extra fries.

“Yo Kenj, making dinner tonight?” The kitchen door slammed behind Cassandra, making noise together with the beads in her hair. A pack of grape-flavored candy hung from her jacket pocket. Honestly her entire personality was grapes. She even smelled like grapes. Or at least artificial grape flavor. Kenji took a small step to the side, showing her the embarrassingly empty fridge. “Never mind. I forgot we’re poor,” she said. Kenji rolled his eyes before closing the fridge. 

"We're not poor," he said. "We've just been too busy saving the town to go to the store." He reached into the keys bowl to find his own key, and quickly patted down his pocket to make sure his wallet was there. "I'll send a message in the group chat. Picking up everything except personal snacks. Between the seven of us, snacks cost more than most people's entire shopping list.” 

Cassandra rolled her eyes and took a seat at the island. "Your girlfriend buys seven different brands of fruit snacks, but sure my addiction to grape gum is what's using up our money.”

“I already told you and your evil doppelgänger that me and Belle aren’t dating,” Kenji began typing out the message, hoping the group would respond faster than last time. “We’re just us right now.” The response received a raised eyebrow. 

“Probably shouldn’t argue with the girl that can see into the future. I’m tryna help you out. By the way, don’t get her food from the new Chinese place. Throwing up together from food poisoning isn’t as hot as it sounds.” Kenji ignored her and sent the message. “You should cook tonight. I bet that would really turn her on.”

Before Kenji could even question why she was here instead of at her own place, he received a text reply. Then another. Soon, he was putting his phone on do not disturb because Luca loved to send several small messages instead of one list. He was pretty sure he got that habit from texting Juniper. For a girl who hated reading, she made sure everyone else did their fair share of it when it came to texting her. 

Maybe he could just wait until he got to the store and make a quick list from the messages. Honestly he could’ve just made his own list and made a trip to the store. It’s not like anyone other than him really cooked anything. Arabella bakes sometimes but not enough to buy anything based on that. Honestly she cried so much the last time she tried to make macaroons that Kenji was sure she wouldn’t bake anything for a couple of months.

“Your girl just messaged me. She wants to know if you plan on cooking tonight or if it’s just a regular grocery trip.” Kenji shrugged before making his way to the door. He honestly wasn’t planning on cooking but if Arabella came over he could butter her up for another road trip. Last time they ended up at a weird gas station with a eight-fingered cashier that flirted with Arabella through the car window. He checked the group chat one last time. Enough people responded that his wallet suddenly began feeling heavy.

~

Grocery shopping had to be Kenji’s least favorite thing to do for the group. The others decided since he wasn’t getting their snacks, they would find someone who would. And that someone ended up being Arabella, who was currently grabbing three family sized boxes of her favorite fruit snacks. Honestly probably the worst person to be shopping for the group. She constantly tried to give the most of whatever she was asked for. The first time they met, Kenji thought she was an ass. In his defense, she was screaming at him for not properly separating his trash and recyclables and how he was killing the earth. He would never tell her that though. Despite her constantly telling him how much of a pain in her ass he was on a daily basis.

“Hey Kenj,” Arabella tossed the boxes into the cart before continuing. “We should have a movie night. You know, grab some popcorn, make some ice cream sundaes, and sing along to some Disney movies. Or I could sing. Last time you sang in the shower, the water turned off.” 

“I already told you Luca turned off the water trying to be funny.”

“If you say so but if I was the water I would be turned off too. No amount of tattoos can save that. I mean your hair is nice and you smell good sometimes so that’s a plus. But something about your personality and addiction to rice krispie treats gives off definitely don’t date vibes. But your height gives you a slight bonus so that’s-.” A hand covered her mouth and glanced up to an annoyed look on Kenji’s face. According to him, the only other people to get that look was his older sister and Luca. Which wasn’t a fair comparison in her opinion because Luca made it his life’s mission to annoy Kenji.

“Please stop talking. I promise I’ll watch any movie you want tonight if you just stop.” Arabella nodded before turning back towards the popcorn selection in front of her. She knew Kenji didn’t do well with too much talking but someone had to carry the conversations every once in a while. The last time she tried to let him take the lead in communicating, they didn’t talk for three days. Sure they hung out but it was just silence. She thought it was absolute torture while he thought they were finally bonding and was pretty content. Until Cassandra told him to stop “fucking up the future” and to go talk to her.

She finally decided to get the caramel flavor. Not her favorite but it was the only one Kenji would eat and she usually stuck to eating the candy anyway. The two moved to the next aisle and Arabella wondered if the group was going to come over or if they could do that movie night tonight. Tonight would definitely have Anastasia. She was pretty sure he had never seen it and was definitely betting that he would cry at least once. Which was a huge bonus. Not that she liked seeing him cry, but he was always so serious that it was nice to remember he was actually human. 

“I think that’s it. Unless you want something specific for our night.” Arabella said. She was really hoping that was a big enough hint to throw at him. Sometimes he was oblivious and a complete dumbass. And sometimes he just wanted her to say exactly what she wanted. Both were annoying to her but the latter was just plain embarrassing. Mostly because Kenji was a huge flirt and she didn’t know if he was being serious. She could just ask but overthinking constantly got the best of her. Cassandra could look into the future and see what happens but she refused to tell her. She’s pretty sure the girl looked into the future multiple times just to be spiteful.

“Nope. Unless you mean actual food. You know, the thing I’ve been trying to get the past four hours while you dragged me around this store.” Arabella glared at him. 

“I wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t so stingy when it came to buying snacks.” 

Kenji gestured to the cart that was pretty close to being overfilled. Despite his so-called stinginess, he didn’t protest anytime Arabella added the group’s snacks. And he was still willing to pay with only slight complaints.  

“I’m not stingy, I just think we should be a little bit smarter about buying snacks we don’t really need.”

Arabella did a quick glance towards her fruit snacks before looking back at the boy in front of her with squinted eyes.

“Are you talking about my fruit snacks? Cause there’s no complaints when I share with you.” 

“The only time you share is if I’m cooking. And you pick the ones you don’t really like to give me.”

“But I share them! That’s more than I can say about you.”

Kenji rolled his eyes as they approached the register. 

“You don’t even like rice krispie treats.” 

“Who the fuck doesn’t like rice krispie treats?” Arabella deadpanned. She began moving stuff from the cart, making sure to leave the heavier things for Kenji. Could she lift them just as easily? Probably, but this way is slightly more annoying towards Kenji. Who seemed to ignore the fact she was trying to annoy him and just reached for the items she left behind. He shrugged at the previous question and swiped his card.

 The trip back to the car was pretty quiet, with Arabella occasionally muttering to herself about something she forgot to buy. Normally she would go back but she was starting to get hungry herself. She wouldn’t say anything out loud. But she would make a quick walk to the Chinese restaurant they were parked near. Maybe even get Kenji something. Without a word, she walked towards the restaurant hoping her friend would wait for her.

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Thursday, April 4

Yesterday morning my wife was a very bad wife. (And not in a good way) She got me to get out of bed completely against my will taking advantage of the fact I also had to use the bathroom really bad.

Next thing I know I'm hustling for the bathroom only to discover it was being cleaned...

So it was closed.

Meaning I had to hustle up to the campground above us before finding Relief. 

Kimmer laughed herself silly the whole time.

Not. Cool.

In the meantime, over at the grill, her cousin's discovered that, while we all were sleeping, birds set about making a nest on one side of the grill that's set lower.

Incredible.

He had to fish all the sticks and tiny branches out of there before starting in on the morning's cooking.

No idea how to prevent this the next morning because in the afternoon while all the adults were away, the birds started in again building the nest from scratch.

Whaaaaaaat???

"We weren't paying attention" said the boys in their defense.

Oy.

By the way, the morning was a bright shiny morning in preparation for a warm lovely day. I know because Kimmer's first attempt at waking me up was simply to throw open the doors of the van and allow the bright rays of sun to assault me as if I were a vampire.

By the time the morning's drama is over and I'm back from the bathroom and we have a pretty much vanilla yogurt centered breakfast...

We head out for a morning walk that, if we lived in a warmer climate, we'd probably do every morning at home. We walked over to the main street then up the hill then walked each of the campground loops, spying each of the RVs and camp setups, saying good morning to the people we passed, and observing the occasional couples gazing out at the waters of the Pacific Ocean from their camp chairs. We walked our loop twice before starting up the van and hitting the road.

Hitting the road?

Yeah. I accidentally left my polar fleece at Kimmer's cousin's place so went back for that. And, since we were there, you know, we took advantage of the showers, the electrical outlets for charging our tech, and Kimmer cooked up a new batch of two dozen chocolate chip cookies. We also have a list of stuff we've gotta buy, at the top of the list being a replacement hose for the one I thoroughly scorched the previous night. Then we're picking up semisweet chocolate chips, hot chocolate, and eggs at Ralph's along with the Trader Joe's organic lemonade and orange seltzer from the refrigerator we forgot to grab when we left the first time.

It's a bit of a list and we deal with it by splitting up. Kimmer handles the baking and charting she's gotta do. I hit the store for everything but the eggs and the replacement hose. I do, however, score a tall dark drip coffee for my lovely wife before returning to the house.

Two forty five we're back on the road again because a mutual friend's gonna meet up at camp. 

Three thirty we're sitting around the picnic table catching up, plowing through freshly baked cookies, splitting a non-alcoholic Heinekin, and even getting in a pair of rounds of Uno Attacks! with the boys amidst the conversation.

It was a really sweet and relaxing time under the noonday sun, catching up, telling stories... until it was time to go our separate ways. 😕

530 we're on the road again, stopping by the Trader Joe's not a mile down the road just to figure out where we're going. Our mission is to purchase a replacement propane hose because we burned the one the previous night. To find that replacement we've gotta find the nearest Home Depot which turns out to be in Costa Mesa which also, as I think about it now, well... we woulda done better just going back to Irvine to get everything we needed. Instead we took a long drive to Costa Mesa as the sun was setting. We scored the replacement propane hose then drove over to the nearby Trader Joe's for the eggs I didn't get that afternoon plus a birthday card for Kimmer's nephew whose birthday's next Thursday but we're gonna celebrate today.

Kimmer needs to pick up some allergy meds so I plot the closest Target that ends up being in...

Irvine.

Whoops.

Did not see that coming.

We pass John Wayne Airport. We pass exit signs for familiar Irvine streets. So we call it a night and head back to camp that, by this point, is actually 18 minutes away.

By the time we're back, it's almost 8.

We spend a little time around the campfire spinning our tale of shopping woe, I spend a little time writing while evening lattes are prepared, then I join the boys at the table for a few EPIC rounds of Uno Attacks!

I won't tell you exactly how we made it epic. Let's just say we added some of our own personal flourishes to the game after each play. Especially when a particular play screwed someone.

At some point, we became aware of a number of mice scurrying about the ground around us. Under our table sometimes. I don't know what to tell you but eventually they completely spooked Kyle's friend's Dylan who could no longer concentrate on the game, eventually taking up guard on a camp chair situated right in front of their tent.

He was armed with a mini blower that he wielded as a warning to all mice wherever they might be.

Any mouse he saw got a rush of air that sent them scurrying. Even mice who weren't actually there got a blast.

They really got in his head and it was a helluva thing.

By the time we called the game it was around 930. The boys retired to their tent, making sure mice were not afoot, and I joined Kimmer in the van for the next hour and a half whilst she finished her studies for the evening.

Around 11pm we called it a night. Turned off the lamps. Pulled the blankets tight around us.

And went to sleep.

☺️

[duskholland]

I just baked for five hours straight lmao I am DEAD

[i-am-bitterly-jittery]

Oh Sorry, I Thought You Were A Garbage Can

Word count: 670

Rating: gen

Pairing: Moceit

Warnings: none, pure fluff, fluff fluff fluff 💛💙

~~~START~~~

“Oh sorry, I thought you were a garbage can,” Janus said offhandedly one afternoon after handing Patton half of a sandwich.

Patton blinked at the sandwich, unsure of what to do with that. He didn’t look like a garbage can… did he?

But before he could say anything, Janus was gone.

Oh well, Patton thought, taking a bite of the sandwich. Grilled cheese! My favorite!

~~~

“Oh sorry, I thought you were a pillow,” Janus remarked one day as he laid down on the couch, placing his head in Patton’s lap.

“That’s okay!” Patton responded, running his fingers through the tuffs of Janus’s hair that peeked out from under his hat. He didn’t mind any of his kiddos using him as a pillow, even if they had somehow mistaken him for a pillow in the first place.

He was just happy that Janus was starting to feel comfortable around him. Around all of them.

~~~

“Oh sorry, I thought you were a wall,” Janus commented one morning as he leaned his body against Patton’s sleepily while waiting for the coffeemaker.

“Good morning Janus!” Patton said with false cheer, hoping that the greeting didn’t count as a lie. He’d awoken from a distressing nightmare hours ago, and, unable to fall back asleep, had decided to stress-bake until the others woke up.

Janus sent Patton an unamused look, but he said nothing as he continued to lean against Patton — even after his coffee was ready, he drank it while leaning against Patton.

The contact felt good. He never said anything — he didn’t want to burden anyone anymore than he already had — but the warmth of another body against his always calmed Patton down the most after a nightmare.

~~~

“Oh sorry, I thought you were a couch,” Janus purred one evening as he took a seat on Patton’s lap during their famILY movie night.

Patton smiled to himself. There was plenty of room on the other side of the couch, next to Logan, or even on the floor with Remus, but Janus had chosen to sit with him.

He didn’t respond verbally, but he wrapped his arms around Janus’s waist and hugged him close like an oversized teddy bear. Janus seemed shocked for a moment, but he quickly settled back against Patton’s chest.

~~~

“Oh sorry, I thought you were—”

Patton spun around, gently taking Janus’s face in his hands.

Janus froze where he was, hands raised where he had been, about to place his hat on top of Patton’s head.

Patton smiled at his shocked face, having long since figured out that Janus’s strange lies were his way of flirting. “Yes?”

“I- uh…” the human half of Janus’s face warmed under Patton’s palms. “I thought- um.”

“You thought what, Janus?” Patton asked innocently, leaning forward so that his face was only inches away from the other Side’s.

“I… I definitely would not like to kiss you right now.” Janus’s eyes flickered between Patton’s eyes and lips then back again.

“You’re going to have to be clearer than that, honey.”

“I’d very much like to kiss you right now if that’s alright with you,” Janus rushed, staring straight into Patton’s eyes.

Instead of answering, Patton closed the gap between them, pressing his lips against Janus’s. Janus gasped, but was quick to respond, dropping his hat fully and Patton’s head before wrapping his arms around his waist.

Patton smiled against Janus’s lips, placing a light kiss on the snake’s nose before pulling back slightly. “All you had to do was ask, honey.”

“Can I keep kissing you?” Janus asked, pure, honest hope written across his face.

“Of course you can.”

~~~

“Oh sorry, I thought you loved me,” Janus said one night as he crawled into Patton’s bed, wrapping himself fully around the other Side.

“But I do love you, silly,” Patton laughed, placing a kiss on Janus’s scaled cheek.

“Mmm I know,” Janus sighed, tucking his face into Patton’s shoulder. “I just like hearing you say it.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too.”

~~~END~~~

I had to, you know I had to

I didn’t edit this at all tbh, I wrote it and then I had to post it immediately because I’m having feelings

I’ll finish the next part of Things We Gained In The Fire soon, I promise

General Taglist:

@royalty-of-all-things-snuggly @pixelated-pineapple @knight-shives

Edit: I was so excited to post this THATBI FORGOT TO TAG IT WITH ANYTHING

[eremiie]

a change of heart;

❥ nsfw | 6.1k words | eren x reader

❥ an annoyingly arrogant childhood friend has never seen the light of day in your eyes... until he does. eren jaeger was an anomaly that you thought you had figured out.

❥ content: cum play, choking, slight size kink, rough sex, unprotected sex

saying you liked eren was an understatement. you weren't fond of the boy— like at all.

it was something about him that you couldn't pinpoint, maybe it was the way he always had something smart to say back to you when you made the littlest comments, the way his eyebrows were always furrowed together as if he was constantly upset with you, the way he was just so aggressive— a handful if you must. you never liked the way he acted towards you, or anybody else for that matter so you never tried your luck at getting close to him.

or... maybe you didn't like that slight way your eyes widened when you first met him, or that run of his eyes over you on your first meeting. or was it the way you somewhat hoped to get into an argument with him just so you could bicker? something about your arguments thrilled you and sent a feeling you couldn't pinpoint through your body.

nevertheless, the bigger issue at hand was the fact that you couldn't seem to escape eren jaeger.

you were so unlucky and were deemed even unluckier when your mom happened to be the sweetest person on earth. she was the kind to bake a welcoming gift for the neighbors on your street, the kind to knock next door and ask in a sickeningly sweet voice for extra sugar for a recipe she was whipping up.

she'd done both of these things to your next door neighbor, which happened to be carla, carla jaeger.

once again, unluckily carla also happened to be such a sweet mom and you almost felt bad that she was blessed (cursed) with eren jaeger as a son. she was the type to bake something in return and gladly give you a small container of sugar that you would promise to bring back.

she'd done both of these things for your mom.

there advances were so continuous, and over the course of a couple years they became the most best friends imaginable, indulging in every mom-ly activity you could imagine together. this only forced you and eren to spend every unwanted second together.

you knew eren for only a couple years, yes, and you could still remember when his hair was just draped above his shoulders, an awkward length that you never failed to make weak jokes at just to see him get mad. but what you didn't know— or failed to realize that he would get even more annoying then the first time you met him.

maybe you were getting annoyed with the fact that his hair was no longer that awkward length and you couldn't throw the same lame jokes at him, because the length that it was at now? where it touched his shoulders and he threw it back into this awfully messy bun. maybe you were getting annoyed with the fact that now he was older and more occupied with the summer before college, you weren't forced to spend as much time with him, so you didn't see him much.

over these couple years though, your mom (being the doll she is) never failed to throw an annual barbecue that of course, carla always came to, not only did she come but they practically planned it together and had you and eren help out, unwillingly. they claimed it was an opportunity for you and eren to "actually get a long." because trust me— they knew about the tension between the two of you that they tried to break for years.

one of those annual barbecues seemed to be today, at the very minute, actually. you were standing next to eren, both of you with a tray of food in your hands as you awaited instructions, an irritated expression crossing both of your faces.

"okay, take those over to the buffet table you two, and then before you guys go crawl away to god knows where, one of you grab some utensils, napkins and plates and lay them down at the end of the table, and one of you turn on the speaker, guests will be flooding in soon." you chuckled at carla's comment. that's one thing you and eren had in common— the two of you almost completely hating this event if it wasn't for the good food. you would always sneak away to your room and eren would sit in your chair and mind his business while you'd lay on your bed doing your own thing. "and tell your mom i need her, _____!"

it was never an uncomfortable silence— no, as a matter of fact it wasn't always silent, lots of aimless arguments would arise and sometimes, eren would get really angry, but he never dared to leave the safety of your room rather than be surrounded by adults who claimed they'd known him since he was little.

"what?" eren asked you as you reminisced on the thought while the two of you began walking.

you glanced up at him, snapped out of your own head, him already peering down at you with furrowed brows and a slight frown on his face. "none of your business." that's not even what you meant to say but a smart retort was almost instinctive when it came to eren.

albeit your smart response he didn't send one back as he usually would, he just rolled his eyes and sat the food down on the buffet table, you doing the same. "i'll grab utensils and shit." you murmured in slight embarrassment from your quick comment eliciting no reaction. eren didn't look your direction, so you took that as a hint that he heard you as his body headed towards the direction of the old speaker that you knew'd be blasting old "parent" tunes.

you head inside, the smell of food grilling leaving your senses and the something in the midst of being baked filling them instead. you turned the corner of the dining room to enter the kitchen, your mom closing the oven after checking on the brownies baking. "hey, sweetheart, how's it going?" she asked you, smiling when she caught sight of you, all dressed nicely too, which was rare from your usual style; the black slip dress you wore coming mid thigh and lightly hugging your body. you were only wearing socks though, you didn't see the point in walking around in shoes when you'd just be retreating to the hole of your room and lounging around for as long as possible until your mom called you to help some more or to greet someone familiar.

"fine, me and eren just put down the last of the food already cooked. i'm about to set up cutlery and sh— stuff." your mom raised her eyebrow before nodding her head and watching you open up the cabinet at your feet to grab the grocery bag full of a new box of paper plates and napkins." all for the "save the turtles!" magnet your mom had pinned on the refrigerator. "hey, where are the plastic cutlery?" you asked, questioning its lack of presence in the plastic bag.

your mom turned her head towards you, from where she was wiping at her hands. "hm? oh! sorry, honey— i placed them in that cabinet up there because we had extras from that one family get together we had a couple weeks back.”

 ah, yes. you remembered that family get together. despite it being family, somehow carla and eren found their way into the gathering, and not to mention that being one of the last times you saw eren, and one of the most embarrassing times.

you see, the argument you had gotten in with eren that time was over him accidentally walking into your room in the middle of you changing for the event. you had yelled at him even though it was an accident, and that was one of the first times eren didn't try his hardest to win that argument, his face too flushed red, and his apologies and excuses seeming to not calm down your anger that hid your embarrassment.

but geez, for days after you were reminiscing on the drag of his eyes going down your back and over your ass before flickering back up to your eyes and only then realizing the situation at hand. you were just happy the encounter didn't make the next time you were seeing him, being now, too awkward.

your eyes drifted towards the cabinet above your head, the one your mom was eyeing at, and you sighed. "okay, thanks, and by the way miss carla wants you." your mom's eyes widened before she placed down the rag in her hands and scurried out the kitchen. you heard her speak a few words to someone but you weren't paying much attention as your fingertips began to reach upwards to pull at the cabinet doors. when it swung open a groan left your lips when you almost immediately spotted the brightest blue box of plastic cutlery at the top shelf.

"okay, _____... you can't reach that." you opted for climbing on top of the counter, and you did despite you wearing a dress, the fabric stretching as you propped yourself up on the surface, knees together while you used your hand to try and reach for the box.

your hand barely grazed it, but that didn't matter as eren's hands reached it for you, his back pressed against yours as he used his tippy toes and the stretch of his fingertips to knock the box down and grab it in the air before it could drop to the ground. the warmth of him behind you disappeared as he backed up and looked you over from your position on the counter. "if you couldn't reach it you should've had me get the stuff."

it was your turn to roll your eyes, heat rising to your cheeks before you climbed off the counter slowly and adjusted your dress. "shut up."

eren's arm came out to hand you the box. "since when did you start wearing dresses?" he asked abruptly, once again, those thick brows coming together in curiosity as you grabbed the box from his hands, stepping forward slightly.

"i've been wearing dresses, you're just too dumb to notice." your own gaze gave eren a once-over. he never dressed formally for any of these events like your mom made you. carla could never seem to get him into anything nice. plain black jeans with an almost too tight white shirt, and you could never fail to mention the key necklace draped around his neck that he once told you his dad gave him when you had asked "why do you always have that stupid necklace on?" he had gotten really defensive and only today you realized how insensitive that comment may have been considering the fact that he rarely saw his dad— as did you. you could only recall seeing the man twice, and at one time was at one of the barbecues. "i wore one... last time."

eren's eyes went up to the ceiling as he recalled "last time" realization dawning on his face, but before you could wait for his reply you were walking past him with your head pointed towards the ground as you told him, "you can go ahead and go up to my room, i'm gonna go put these down." and he watched you walk away before scratching his chin and doing just that.

you did what you had to do, placing down the cutlery and slipping past both your mother and carla before they could get you to do anything else.

when you opened the door to your room you were surprised to see eren sitting on your bed, shoes kicked off at the edge. you narrowed your eyes at him as he looked up from his phone at you. "what? your chair's broken." your eyes glanced to the chair that sat idle near your desk before you remembered— it was broken— no it wasn't broken, one of the wheels had just been screwed off and you nor your mom had the patience to fix it.

you lowered your suspicions at eren and merely nodded your head. you really didn't mind actually, the chair was eren's self proclaimed spot, he continued to sit their his self after the first barbecue, you never actually told him to.

"wow, i'm surprised you're not throwing a tantrum." he scoffed as you climbed onto your bed stomach flopping down next to eren who was propped up against your wall. your dress had ridden up in the slightest but you made no efforts to fix it, and you didn't make an effort to grab your phone either which was sat on your desk.

your arms held up your head, elbows on the bed as you looked up at eren with a raise of your eyebrow much like your mom. "you can get out." you half joked, eren looking down at you with lagoon green eyes.

"so you can leave me down to suffer with all those people? hell no, i'd surprisingly rather be up here with you."

you tilted your head at eren. "oh? why the change of heart?"

his stare sent a prickly sensation up your bare arms, and you turned over to your side so that your one arm propped up your head, your other draped across your waist. this was basically the first time you had a simple conversation without the two of you bothering each other, the first time you were somewhat amused by the words coming out of his mouth.

where was the old eren jaeger? this new eren jaeger couldn't help but think you looked... good, not to say he's never thought this before; the subconscious thought always in the back of his head, but now it was prevalent to him. the straps of your black dress so thin, and the way it hugged your body in the slightest was almost tantalizing. you didn't seem to be wearing a bra either, he could tell by the lack of support and straps. "huh?" you added when he didn't respond right away, eren's eyes snapping back up to your face.

he whipped up a quick response; "there wasn't a change of heart. you know i'm always up here... and you're tolerable today." he placed down his phone, interested in the conversation at hand. something was laced between your words, almost taunting, almost aware, more aware than you were earlier when the two of you had that encounter in the kitchen, more aware than you were when he accidentally walked in on you a couple weeks prior.

you felt confident today, you weren't sure if it was the mere maturity between the two of you that seemed to just decide to pop up today, you weren't sure if it was eren's new attitude, or if it was your attire that gave you the confidence you possessed. you always enjoyed you and eren's arguments, you loved seeing him riled, but today the snark to his own comments instead of him getting completely heated sent an even better thrill, if you could call it, down your spine. "hm, then it's not surprising you'd rather be up here with me, jaeger... and what makes me more tolerable today?"

eren let his eyes roll to the back of his head for a split second before deciding that the best response to that question would be no answer, lying wasn't healthy anyways.

"what? is it the fact that i started wearing dresses?" you mocked his earlier words, your hand flying up to create quotations in the air.

that was one reason.

"trying to get your little dick wet eren? that little blondie wasn't doing it for you, yeah?" you joked, but the way his eyebrow twitched and his eyes darkened, lowering as a very small smirk formed on his face told you maybe your joke was more than that to him.

he let out another small scoff, face turning away from you so his jawline was visible, the tiny brown hairs that wouldn't fit in his ponytail skimming his neck and forehead before he side eyed you, then turning his head back to you and not even noticing how he scooted forward as he brought his knee up for his arm to rest on. "little?" was all he could manage to get out. he wasn't gonna lie— your comments felt quicker today, and they were catching him a little off guard.

you flipped back onto your stomach before sliding your upper body and shuffling forward to sit back on your knees diagonal from eren. you weren't gonna lie— eren's comments felt quicker today, and they were catching you a little off guard. "did i lie?"

"yeah."

"i beg to differ."

eren's hand went to his thigh. even though his dick was on the other leg, semi-hard, he wanted to tease you with the leg closer, rubbing up and down the fabric of his jeans. "wanna see then?"

your eyes glanced down to his lap and widened, jesus— this was not the eren you knew, nor the eren you expected tonight. you let yourself fall backwards onto your pillows, grabbing one throw pillow and placing it over your face as you hid your true expression. although your voice was muffled you let out an "jaeger, stop! i'm supposed to hate you."

the bed dipped underneath you as eren shuffled forward until he was peering down at you again, grabbing the pillow with one hand, your hand flying up to grab his wrist, then his coming up to pry your fingers off him. after a small tussle he pinned your hand to the bed, grabbing the pillow and chucking it off the bed to see your face.

your lips were shriveled in an embarrassing smile and you turned your head away from eren, only then realizing the presence of his cold gold pendant tickling your chest, and how close he actually was, his thigh pressed up against your side, and his untucked hairs gravitating towards you. those green-blue eyes seemed even more intimidating up close, and the dangerous slight upturn of the corner of his lips didn't seem to help in you feeling small under him.

eren jaeger, an anomaly. who knew people could change right before your eyes.

"jaeger," you brought your other hand to his chest, pushing at his sternum with as much force as possible which didn't budge him, eren only grabbing your other hand with a low chuckle and placing it above your head, bringing both of your hands together and keeping them there with one wrist. you let out a soft whine of the word "move," that made eren's lip twitch before you brought your foot up to kick him.

"kick me and i swear, ______—" and so you did— well at least you tried, eren grabbing your ankle and holding your flailing limb. you guys looked insanely stupid, and it made your little whines turn into small laughs that seemed to be contagious as eren began to laugh too. your body went limp as you soon realized that eren was pretty strong, which the old eren wasn't.

he let go of your leg, dropping it to the bed on the other side of him so he was sitting between them. "i'll let go if you admit that you don't actually hate me." a small goofy grin was on his face and it made you reciprocate.

"nope," you popped the p, eren quirking his brow at you before letting his eyes wander down. he had you in quite a position; your legs on either side of him, your hands pinned together, and your dress scrunched up just enough so he could see the black underwear you adorned. you watched his eyes trail back up, stopping at your lips, his tongue sliding over his own before coming back up to your eyes. "but it's obvious you don't hate me."

eren let out a small laugh and your stomach churned— so did his. 

"nope," he popped his p just like you. "that's just some weird shit we were on when we were younger... you're not that bad." he hummed, leaning down a bit so he was hovering over your face, and god did he look amazing.

maybe he was right— maybe it was just one of those weird things that leave with age, and you were fine with it leaving, especially if it gave you the eren jaeger in front of you right now. your lips parted in effort for you to speak but you choked on your own words, not sure what to say. but you didn't have to say much because just like eren, you let your realization hit you on how he had you, how he looked, and your gaze stopped at his lips too. he took that as his cue— his face inching way too close, but not like you minded.

"the way you're looking at me doesn't seem like it, ______."

you squeezed your legs on his sides as you felt the fabric of his jeans rub against you from the proximity. "well, i—" he didn't let you finish his lips connecting with yours and you almost forget how to kiss for a moment, eren's lips being the only ones moving until he let go of your hands and you cradled his jaw, kissing him back just as fervently.

eren hummed against your lips in content, them beginning to move together as if the two of you were made for each other. something felt like it was lifted off your chest, and you really relished in the moment at hand. one of eren's hand coming up to your hair and pushing your head more towards him, the kiss becoming rougher while his other hand settled at your side gripping roughly as if you could run away any second.

you felt desperate, practically swallowing eren's lips up, him biting at your lip before pulling away for air. he looked down at you with a lustful expression, his lips parted and flushed red while his eyelids hung low. "finally, you shut up."

you looked up to the ceiling with a smile gracing your face. you didn't know if you were in shock at the fact that he could still throw quick comebacks after such an event or if you were in shock at what just happened. "you shut the fuck up— and come here," 

you lifted your head up to connect your lips back to eren's, your tongue sliding over his bottom lip, and he quickly got the hint, pushing you back down to the bed as he parted his lips so that your tongues could collide gently. the kiss was wet, and passionate, you could practically taste the lust that both of you were so oblivious about for years. you could taste how long he craved your lips on his and you almost wanted to apologize for leaving him waiting for so long.

eren's tongue licked around your mouth, doing all the work while you laid back and guided your tongue to follow his almost like a recited dance. his hips moved with yours, beginning to grind against you to relieve some of the ache in his dick, and he was glad you were wearing a dress. his hand on your hip grasped the black fabric and aggressively yanked it up, your hips lifting to help him out a little bit until your lower half was completely unveiled to him.

his mouth disconnected from yours so he could peer down at you. "fuck..." he muttered. his hand slid under your dress, smoothing over your stomach before nearing your breasts, looking back up to you as if to ask if what he was doing was fine. you gave him that confirmation and let your eyes drift close as his warm palm relaxed itself over your tit. the contact that his fingers made with you nipple as he moved his hand down to toy at it caused them to harden and you to whimper.

eren ducked down to your neck so he could kiss it, nibbling at the sensitive flesh which elicit your hand to fly to his messy brown locks. "yeah..." you sighed, elated with the feeling of him sucking at your skin, his tongue occasionally licking at the spot and his teeth grazing over it as well before he completely pulled off, hoping a distinctive hickey you would have trouble hiding from your mom would begin to appear sooner or later.

his hand slid back down to your side until it went over the curve of your back and trailed down your ass until it met your supple thighs. he grasped at your skin, the fat underneath his fingertips leaving his imagination to wonder what it would be like in between your thighs. he brought his other thumb to your plain black panties, pressing it against your clothed entrance just to get a feel and your head flew back so you were no longer watching him— eyebrows turning upwards and mouth parting as uneven breaths left you mouth.

you were so hot and bothered, you needed him now— any way you could take him.

"need you... right now, eren." you mumbled, your hand retreating between your dress to cup at your own breast.

eren looked up at you another smile playing on his lips, and he would be the death of you. "first name basis now that you want to be fucked by me?"

"oh my gosh, just hurry."

you brought your legs closer to your body as eren's hand came to the hem of the fabric that was the only thing separating you and him. he pulled it over your legs and down your feet tossing it to the side. when you didn't part your legs for him immediately he brought his hand to both of your knees and with some resistance parted them for you, the sight of your glistening cunt going straight to his dick.

you were so pretty to him, yet he didn't want to boost your ego any more so he held his tongue and untucked his lip from his teeth before stepping off the bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling your body to the edge of the bed.

your pussy fluttered as you watched eren fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. he stopped for a brief moment, groaning in annoyance before looking back to you. "i don't have a condom."

your hand flew to your forehead and you felt yourself squeeze around nothing at the thought of eren sliding into you without one. "you're clean right?"

eren scoffed. "yeah."

"okay well then hurry!" you repeated, eren going back to pulling his pants down until they were pooled at his ankles, as well as his boxers. his dick was finally exposed to you, and you stifled a moan when you saw it— pretty, hard, big and flushed red in anticipation for you not anyone else. he took himself into his hands and smeared his pre cum over his length while his head tilted back and his jaw dropped at the slight relief.

"this is about to be the best dick you've ever had." he half joked as he grabbed your hips and pressed at your entrance, leaning overtop of you again.

"we'll see about that, ja—" you couldn't even get the rest of your sentence out as you felt his tip slide more into you, a gasp leaving your throat, your walls clenching his tip causing him to let out a slight moan.

he stopped for a moment, bringing his hand up to steady himself on the bed. "eren, not jaeger."

he pushed in a little more, your hand flying over to your mouth muffling your, "eren!" which caused him to smirk. "shit... you—" a little more, your eyebrows coming together like his as he tried filling you up even more.

"me what?" he breathed out, pushing in a little more.

your back arched and your fingers came to wrap around his wrist beside your head for support. "it kind of hurts." you mewled out. of course you wouldn't tell eren this, but it had been awhile since the last time you had sex, prone to getting yourself off instead, and eren's size wasn't helping either.

"well..." he started, sheathing himself more inside you as your grip on his wrist tightened, and small pathetic half-whines left your throat. "you gotta take it." your eyes screwed even more shut as his words rang through your head. you were practically throbbing for him and you wanted this just as bad. "don't start something you can't finish." and with that the brunette let his length fill you up completely, ignoring your slight displeasure until he bottomed out, shushing you and letting his hand come down to rub circles on your clit to soothe you.

a sigh left your lips and your hand relaxed from eren's wrist. "okay."

"okay?"

"you can move." and eren wasted no time doing just that, his hips moving backwards and sliding against your walls causing you and him to groan at the same time.

when you were fully adjusted, and any discomfort you felt had drifted away, eren moved faster, almost fucking you how he wanted to in the first place. he lifted himself from the bed and put his hands on your hips, dragging you onto him as he pushed in and out of you, basking in your moans of pleasure and the feeling of your tight walls trying to consume him.

"yes," you said with gritted teeth as the way eren thrusted into you with purpose felt amazing and left you wondering why you didn't confess to your attraction to him sooner. "fuck, eren..." his hips stuttered from the way you sounded moaning his name. he wanted to hear it again, and again, wanted to hear it so many times that he could hear it when he fucked his fist to your pretty face. "like that, just like that."

"again." he demanded, and the low octave of his voice ordering you to repeat his name sent your head into a spiral. you grind against him, your wetness smearing on his abdomen. eren brought his hand to your hair again, pulling your body up off the bed and you winced at his tight grip as he continued to fuck up into you nicely. "i said again."

"eren," you repeated more like a plea. he pulled your head forward more, smashing his lips to yours again briefly, just wanting to feel more of you, wanting to feel you crave him.

"what do you want me to do?" he asked. he wanted you to tell him how bad you wanted him, how bad you wanted him to fuck you— and with the way his cock stretched you out so well, fucking into you with ease, like it's what he was made for, you were willing to do just that. "hm?"

"fuck me good, make me cum, eren, please."

"if i do you're gonna stop acting like a little brat when we're together right?"

"yes, yes, yes," you babbled not even realizing what he said that had you nodding your head hastily.

eren chuckled at the lack of hesitance in your response, softening his grip on your hair and letting your head fall back to the bed. "good girl." he murmured while slowing down his pace causing you to roll your hips into his as a silent plea to go faster. eren pushed your dress up some more until it was bunched up right to your chest, then having you pull off the straps to free your tits. he stepped out of his jeans and boxers, pushing you higher on the bed to create space for himself, not leaving you once, leaving your cunt fluttering around him as he did all these motions.

the little sad cries that would leave your lips begging him to hurry up so that he could fuck you again made you sound so stupid for him, so impatient and so dirty. eren didn't mind at all though, when he shifted himself up on your bed and pressed your legs to either side of your body so he could hit deeper, he complied with your wishes. "open your mouth." and you complied to his, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out, eren coming down to let his spit drop into your mouth, and the second his saliva came in contact with the muscle you squeezed his member from inside of you, he could feel you tighten around him and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you swallowed. he watched your throat bob before wrapping his hand around your neck to create leverage for himself.

when you felt him drag himself out and back into you so forcefully, your body jolting as he continued the motion, fucking down into you. he was drilling that soft spot inside of you, and he didn't stop you when your hand trailed down below his arm to touch yourself, rubbing at your swollen clit while he drilled you. "you're gonna cum?"

you were too incoherent to form words, the nods of your head telling him enough. he was on the verge of coming too, but he wanted you to come first, he wanted to feel you pulse around his throbbing cock, spill your slick all over him. "shit, then cum all over me, _____. right on my dick, let me feel it." you let out a sultry moan, eren letting go of your neck going to grasp one of your bouncing breast the other grasping your thigh and pounding into you hard while you got yourself off with your middle finger.

small cries spilled out of your lips as your orgasm slowly approached until it finally did, your vision blanking out, pussy squeezing eren impossibly tight, and every nerve being pinched in your body. your hand unconsciously flew to your blanket, gripping the fabric tight as you moaned a drawled out sound resembling eren's name. you felt like you were the only person alive, like the guests downstairs didn't exist, like your parents weren't just outside your window along with them, not even like eren was there when your climax washed over your body, blurring your senses.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, yeah—" eren was having trouble holding back, but as soon as he felt your juices coat him, and the sound of his name from you he let go of your thighs and chest, pulling out of your wet heat and jerking himself to completion, hot cum spilling all over your lower stomach as to avoid your dress. "shit.." he panted, watching his seed sit idle on your pretty skin.

he felt hazy, almost in disbelief that he just fucked your lights out, almost quite literally as you hadn't opened your eyes since your orgasm.

eren took it upon himself to gather some of his cum with a swipe of his finger then prod at your swollen lips, you lazily opening your mouth to taste the salty taste of his cum. "good?" and you hummed, letting your head fall back to the blankets and closing your eyes.

eren tucked himself in, leaving to head towards your bathroom, and soon enough coming back to help you clean up. when you felt the warmth of something slide over your lower abdomen, you too out of it to open your eyes, you relaxed against the bed. eren adjusted your dress and slipped your underwear on for you, shaking your arm to wake you up. "your mom was out there. she was about to check on you when i walked out the bathroom. that would've been embarrassing."

you were too tired to respond, blinking at eren before picking yourself up and sitting up in front of him, his height allowing him to still be looking down at you even though you were on a bed. "i'm gonna head down cause i'll probably be leaving soon... i'll tell her you're sleep."

you nodded your head at eren before crawling to your bed and under the blankets, turning away from him. eren eyed you for a moment before coming forward and deciding to press a kiss to your ear, then grabbing his phone and slipping on his shoes. he grabbed the damp paper towel and threw it in your trash, shutting your lights and shutting the door quietly.

eren jaeger, an anomaly you thought you had figured out who happened not to be that bad after all.

maybe you did like eren— just a little bit.

[cryptidmullet]

renga + their families headcanons

- reki Was bad at cooking but then when he starts sharing food from his bento with langa he wants to start learning to make it so him and his mom cook together

- he’s better at cooking than baking bc baking is so precise and he prefers to just go at it rather than follow a strict recipe

- langa loves his food :)

- langa only knows how to make like. Tacos spaghetti omurice grilled cheese pancakes etc things like that until he’s in his like third year reki ropes him into helping make food and he finds that its kinda fun

- (but he mostly likes to see reki cook bc somehow he makes even That seem lively and fun and natural almost like he dances around the kitchen instead of awkwardly fumbling through the chaos like langa himself does)

- so after that langa starts joining reki and masae when they cook :)

- he reki and masae all take turns looking after the twins when the other two are cooking so if masae thinks the two of them are all good she’ll leave them to it but other times she’ll be walking langa through a recipe and reki will be sitting at the table drawing with chihiro and nanaka and other times when its masae and reki langa will stand in the doorway with chihiro on his hip and nanaka sitting on the counter messing with his hair

- reki absolutely loves seeing langa with his sisters bc he’s cute and awkward but he tries so hard because he adores the three of them and they all equally adore him (and yeah he gets better at interacting with them over time, they kinda come to feel like his own siblings at some point)

- anytime reki comes home alone the twins are like :C wheres langa-kun 

- koyomi likes to tell langa about the drama and gossip at school and he always nods along and listens carefully even tho he definitely does not remember “that girl hina who stuck gum in ichikas hair in elementary school”

- he actually does pick up on some of the names and stories and stuff tho and koyomi will be talking to reki about something that happened at school and langas like oh is that the same girl who spilled juice on that guy she liked and rekis like wtf

- i just like to think langa actually puts in a lotta effort to have good relationships with all of rekis family partially bc he knows how much family means to reki and also bc he only has his mom and its nice to have sibling dynamics and talk to rekis mom about baby reki stories

- even tho langa could give a rats ass about american football somehow the topic is brought up and he ends up teaching (with his limited knowledge) and playing it with reki and his sisters one day out in their front yard

- and really theyre just running around a lot and doing underhand tosses with a random wiffle ball they found and letting the twins “score” and acting upset that they lost to “those two great athletes” just to make them giggle

- masae gets a video of them all playing together and sends it to reki who saves it and watches it at night to replay the moment langa scoops up chihiro and runs across the yard with her held up in the air and setting her down all grandiose like for a touchdown

- rekis constantly having to yell at koyomi not to just barge into his room

- she comes in one day her finger already pointed accusingly at reki as he sighs in exasperation and peels away from where he was cuddled into langas side and shes like “you took the last blue popsicle.” and rekis like “whaaaat no that was langa” and koyomi rolls her eyes and says “langa doesnt even like the blue ones you jerk” and then jumps on his bed and lays all spread out so reki fusses and pushes her off with his foot and they end up squabbling for a while all while langa sits there watching fondly amused

- reki always closes the door when him and langa are in his room but every time his mom comes in for anything she hovers in the doorway for a second longer and then leaves it open Just a crack which makes reki sigh dramatically as he gets up to toe it shut again

- after they make up in e10 they both get more touchy and clingy and just generally are less worried about their affection being rejected so it kinda becomes normal for them to cuddle

- like they would before but it was always under the guise of falling asleep in bed together and then oh wow we woke up literally glued together what a coincidence? How does this keep happening?

- but now its a little more intentional and even tho neither of them really bring it up reki will lay down on his bed all sprawled out and be like? You gonna lay down man? And then pull him into his side and press his face into langas shoulder

- or when they’re sitting against the wall on the bed reki will sling a leg over langas and rest his head on his shoulder and wrap an arm around his back 

- and langas still not very good at initiating that kind of physical affection but he always reciprocates it and longs for it

- i think theres this moment one day when langas helping his mom cook dinner and he’s chopping onions and she’s stirring something over the stove and he stops for a second and says “hey mom” and she looks at him a little bit hopeful and a little bit nervous like she always does in situations like these and he asks “could i… could i have a hug?”

- and its the first time theyve hugged since oliver’s funeral (aside from a couple side hugs like on the day they moved into their apartment in japan) and nanako tears up a little bit and tries not to get snot all over him and they stay there embracing for a good long while until whatever she’s cooking on the stove starts to boil a little too loudly and they finally pull away and get back to what theyre doing

- and i like to think that was kinda a turning point for them and langa starts to lean on her a little more and she gets less nervous every time he takes a longer than normal breath 

- on the rare occasion reki will curl up on the couch while his mom is watching some rerun of an old show and he’ll lean up against her and she’ll run her fingers through his hair 

- and on even rarer nights she’ll make just the two of them tea or hot chocolate and they’ll sit together talking and catching up while the television runs in the background and its on one of those nights he tells her just how much langa means to him

- and masae tears up just the tiniest bit bc there’s something so beautiful about seeing that kind of unadulterated fondness and love for someone and she’s so happy her son has langa in his life and they end the night cleaning out their mugs together and hugging

- (masae’s hugs are warm, maybe even warmer than joe and reki’s combined) 

- and the next time langa stays the night masae kisses them both on the head to say goodnight and smiles at the way reki laughs and teases langa about turning red because “he’s officially been accepted as part of the family now!” once she’s left the room and closed the door

- and every once in a while she’ll come in on a weekend morning to inform them breakfasts ready but see them curled up together, rekis hand fisted in the front of langas shirt, face buried in his chest, and langas leg and arm thrown haphazardly across reki’s body and their faces both so relaxed and content and she’ll leave them be to sleep a little while longer

[matchamorphosis]

𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐙 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐒

・゜ʚɞ ゜・ 𝑎.𝑙𝑒𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ʚɞ 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑦 ・゜ʚɞ ゜・

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || you’ve been testing ari’s patience and it’s up to him to put you straight— even if it’s going to be your first real punishment.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut with plot

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || daddy!ari levinson × little![black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 5.7K — oof i’m sorry

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, ddlg lifestyle and dynamics, daddy kink, extremely bratty reader, big mean daddy!ari, punishment, cursing, spankings, pussy slapping, some steamy scenes, spilt apple juice, a ruined Care Bear’s coloring page, use of nickname: muffin//muffin cake — MINORS DNI || 18+ INTERACTION ONLY —

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || my head was spiraling out of control and I felt bratty + missed my daddy!ari nonnie so I wrote this :): planning on making much more ddlg scenarios like these because they always seem like such a hit and i have so much fun writing them! anyways I hope you cherubs enjoy this! ♡  

↬ p.s || do not repost or plagiarize my work on any other fanfic platform such as: wattpad, ao3, tumblr, etc or plagiarize my work all together. do so and i will rip your spine from your scumy asshole and shove it down your talentless throat. ♡♡♡  

it all started with a simple question.

the simplest of simple questions you know the right answer to. neverminded the fact that the supreme authority in the house, Ari Levinson, would still call you a big dumb baby if you’d answer correctly.

today was not the best day for you to endure one of your aggressively bratty tantrums he says you’re to old to commit — just as well as it wasn’t the best day for you to exclaim your snappy clever remarks he insisted you’re to little to speak of and understand.

you’re either his big girl or his little girl and no in-between’s.

today ignited something in you, lit a measly match that trailed a kerosene path he didn’t dare think fast enough to put out critically. Ari was too slow to realize the build up and now he’s facing the burning fire that’s practically charring the good nature that was usually your morally-correct actions and behavior.

today you just didn’t feel like being good.

simple as that.  

however no matter what you did you wouldn’t win, not on daddy’s watch.

glossy black Mary Janes kick the air in a fiery frenzy, folded arms shielding your face as you sob into the pink fluffy play rug. it’s laying underneath your arts and crafts table and of course your thrashing petite body that’s spiraling in the tantrum.

muffled curses and melodramatic wails fill the pink playroom and the cause of this brat fit was the man at the opposite end of the table. no more than a foot away from you, thick muscled arms crossed over his navy blue polo chest. tapping his foot against the floor impatiently, waiting for your tantrum to end he holds the plastic package of goldfish grahams he took from you.

it wasn’t a good decision to ease your previous brattiness with the brownie baked cookies. of course he couldn’t help but give into your sweet tooth if that meant for you to calm down. although Ari didn’t expect you to finish all the sugary goldfish in your snack bowl in the ten minutes you were out of supervision.

additionally, he didn’t see it coming at all when he left you at that to sip from your juice box and snack on the chocolate goldfish while you colored perfectly in between the bolded lines. all so he could finish some paperwork but not until finding you ten minutes after with the whole package at the account of checking in on you.

the sight of your hand in the bag greedily grabbing the graham goldfishes and shoving them into your mouth was a damn sight to see. even when he secretly hid it in the highest and secret, kept out of eyesight corner of the pantry closet— you somehow retrieved it and smuggled it back in your playroom.

the confiscated, nearly-empty package is now in his fisted grasp. Ari cannot believe the shade of anger and disappointment breaking unknown levels of his calming limits.

words cannot describe the irritation inflaming his mind, you’re suppose to be his good little girl.

his precious little starlet who behaved and acted accordingly but instead he has a brat screaming ass up and face down into the play rug. crying her bug head off because he took your spoiling sugary snack from you that he shouldn’t have given in the first place.

rolling his eyes at the scene in front of him, his blue hues lock on your baby lotion thighs that your tiny purple argyll mini skirt reveals. cotton thigh highs adorned with purple bows at the frilly cuffs that match the small silk ones braided into your hair he helped design, capture his eye.

ever since this morning your attitude has been off and not only did it confuse Ari but it confused you to at first. until you slowly grew into liking the devious part that was hidden inside you for so long that maliciously appeared when you woke up on the naughty side of the bed.

from Ari getting you out of bed, giving you your routine bath, arranging your outfit and getting your hair ready. as well as eating breakfast, you pouted and grumbled the whole time but Ari was still so soft and patient with you. it made your heart gooey but you were craving his mean side.

so after you two got ready and started your separate chores and hobbies for the day, you were slowly working your way to anticipating Ari get mean with you. just like your magic always worked wonders, he did get mean. scolded at you when you were in the middle of reading your book, raising his voice just a slight at you that you did all your chores wrong and haven’t even completed some.

it was scary just for minute that he even had a hint of anger in his voice but damn did you enjoy the wetness in your panties at the same time when he ordered you to do them fully and correctly. until finally what he believed would be the end to your brattiness, nap time arrived.

thankful for it as he started lunch, thinking that when you’d wake up he would recognize his well mannered princess but what he didn’t expect would happen afterwards as he woke you up that you were more crankier than before. 

the two of you had your lunch of toasty grilled cheese, thick tomato soup and chicken salad. you were still moody and cranky when you sat down in your pastel chair with the wooden pink painted words of princess displayed on the crest rail.

of course he looked at you as if a mountain troll was stealing his princesses throne because he didn’t recognize the pout pulling at your full glossy lips. the scrunched brows making a dramatic impression that married well with your anger inflicted face that spoiled your pretty facial features.

as much as your daddy thought you looked adorable being cranky, every little thing seemed to tick you off. you had a problem with everything that could either easily be fixed or was out of your hands.

the grilled cheese wasn’t cut in the shapes that you wanted, he placed the cheesy slices in your wrong disney princess plate, you didn’t want to eat your greeny nasty salad, you wanted another cup of sprite. which you were neglected of because ari had a limit set for you from not drinking anything more than the amount your tiny hello kitty cup provided.

and most importantly you wanted to have Lulubelle, your tangerine teddy bear, to eat at the table.

of course he fixed his first two mistakes but you knew better than to argue against and ask for anything that went against the rules. instead of putting you to a corner, he set up another option.

encouraged you to eat your greens to set a good example for your stuffies. replaced the second cup of sprite you wanted with a juice box of your choice and placed Lulubelle on one of the living room couches telling you she will wait for you to finish eating and washing your hands.

but even with those resolutions there were major bumps and outbursts.

you played with your food by smacking your spoon against the soups surface which caused little splatters of red dots across the glossy cherry oak table and grumbled under your breath as you picked off the crust of the grilled sandwich.

flicking it with the swiftness of your two inch acrylics, the pieces landing in Ari’s soup or hair.

it was as if you were set on getting on his nerves because damn right you were.

rolled your eyes and silently mimicked his mouth when he ordered you to stop. deviously giggled when the funny vein on his forehead that only bulged out when he was really mad at you was potentially going to pop out. 

a smirk playing your lips when the corner of your eye caught every clench of his fist when you would hit the table leg obnoxiously as you slurped your soup. misbehaved yet did what he ordered you to when you believed his attention was back on his own food.

it was a very long lunch and as much as he thought he was going to snap at you and put you in your time out chair that was rarely used because you never ever acted like this, he left you to wash up as he cleaned up after lunch.

you would normally help him with cleaning the table or giving him any dirty dishes for him to clean when he was busy at the faucet. but he allowed you to run off into the living room and play with your stuffed bear in whatever todays make belief adventure the two of you were on.

cleaning up was easy since he only had to clean the bowls, plates and utensils the two of you ate with but it wasn’t until he started to clean the table did he notice all the soup drops against the cleaning plastic as well as the chunky pieces of lettuce, tomato, and bread crusts under the table around your chair. 

Ari was close to exploding, because he taught you better then to throw food and waste it but he gave himself a breath, counted to ten and made sure to make a mental note tonight. after your special cartoon marathon, he’d have a very important talk to you about food waste and how wrong it was.

so after cleaning up and warning the two of you were going to have a talk tonight, he settled you in your playroom since it was a room away from his office. Ari never felt comfortable or secure with leaving you all alone downstairs without someone watching over you. 

adjusting and nestling the baby monitor on one of your teddy bears heart strap, he placed the stuffed bear near your arts and crafts table. even if you were glaring at him for doing so, you weren’t a baby. although as usual, your daddy shushed at you and placed a kiss at your temple that made you silent as you pulled out your coloring books from your big wooden weaved basket with a grumble.

Ari knew you despised the baby monitor but he made it a priority to place it near you at all times when he wasn’t near. even if the meeting was only going to be around fifteen minutes, your daddy wasn’t going to narrow down the possibilities of something going wrong. 

after settling your desired snacks when you remind him that it’s snack time, Ari settled your juice box that he already pierced the straw through the tin foiled hole and your brownie goldfish in your hello kitty snack bowl halfway. checked his watch knowing he had to attend the virtual meeting in less than a few minutes.

kneeling down at your level as you munched on the fish shaped cookies and colored in a fluffy cloud a Care Bear was sleeping on. pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your temple, “Daddy is going to be working in his office princess. can you behave like a good girl until daddy’s done with his meeting?”

the smile that was on your face disappeared, you didn’t want daddy to go and leave you alone!

I mean what was more important than sitting and watching you color? have you feed him the chocolatey goldfish and draw pretty sparkly hearts and shooting stars for him?

“Daddy I don’t want you to go! can the work wait?” you whine but Ari shook his head with a sigh, standing up to your dismay. peering down at you as you glare up at him.

“no the work can’t wait, muffin. it’ll only be twenty minutes and after Daddy does the work he’ll be back here. helping you color a page from your coloring book, how does that sound?” the soft lowness of his voice didn’t leave room for you to bite back an aggression but only nod.

“yes Daddy I would really like that.” Ari smiled to himself at that, thinking that your brattiness has finally come to an end as he left your room.

oh how wrong he was when he arrived back once the meeting was over.

Ari literally caught you with your hand in the cookie jar and you didn’t even look ashamed at all. not stuttering trying to explain your faultless contribution to this crime-like action.

to add onto the shock, when he snatched the bag just full of five goldfishes and crumbs did you start to cry and spiral into you tantrum even when he said nothing yet.

now we are here five minutes later.

with Ari looking down at your still continuing tantrum but noticing it’s lessening with your kicks and whines.

the only thing he feels is disappointment.

not only were you ruining your chances of watching the annual cartoon marathon the cable TV’s going to premiere later on tonight— that he allowed you to stay up to after relentless begs and your good behavior from previous weeks before — but you completely spoiled your appetite for dinner.

your favorite meal he made specially to go along with the cartoon marathon but now watching your tantrum become even more relentless Ari is confirming that you most definitely will not participate in it. maybe even cut your day short once you complete your night routine after dinner and make you head straight to bed.

“are you done being a brat now?” Ari, you’re soft daddy bear snapped viciously.

however you’re still letting out whines and sniffs as you reveal your red teary eyes from the carpet. the sight of them makes him want to drop the bag, kneel down and scoop you in his arms. kiss your face and tell you he’s sorry that he took the cookies away from you, but he can’t.

Ari cannot let this tantrum slide and give you what you want no matter how much it hurts his heart he isn’t trying to calm you down himself in the security and warmth of his arms around his little one.

he needs to put his foot down.

and it serves him right, because once latching your eyes on your mean Daddy’s austere blues you grab your white tiger stuffie nearby. covering your tear stricken face within the faux white fur with a gritted and bratty hmph! 

it was infuriating how your Daddy had to take all the things you wanted away from you. obviously you didn’t have a say in anything cause you were suppose to be his good girl but why continue to act good now when you know you’re Daddy is going to ruin the only thing that you’ve been anticipated since the beginning of December?

today approximately around eight o’clock on the dot the big people channel you were forbidden to watch from was going to premiere all your favorite holiday cartoons. The Powerpuff Girls, Scooby Doo, Charlie Brown, Looney Tunes, and the various vintage episodes of nostalgic Mickey Mouse.

if all went wrong as you went down with your ship you could watch some of the holiday issued tapes of Strawberry Shortcake and Winnie the Pooh on your vcr but it wasn’t as often you would have access to the other cartoon specials you enjoyed premiering their limited episodes at the touch of a remote and Ari knows this!

your big mean Daddy knows how much you’ve been looking forward to it but he’s probably going to instead send you off to your secluded bed in the separate room he sends you to when he was to furious to have you sleep with him in your shared big king bed after dinner. 

belly full of your favorite food that’s going to stir badly in your stomach as you shift under your warm covers restless because it wouldn’t be your goddamn bedtime. only having the single company of your golden fairy nighty nightlight and the only stuffie he’d allow you to cuddle for the night.

it makes you want to explode because you know how this is going to end but you’re head is to tired to even say anything in retaliation or beg him not to reconsider.

but maybe… if you think up something quick to throw him off it’ll buy you enough time to behave and show him you could be good. 

even though you screamed all the naughty no-no words Ari would have you over his lap in a second if you even thought of them. throat sore and red eyes stinging from crying so damn much and rubbing your closed eyelid fiercely against the play rug and stuffie.

a plan is concocting in your mind, nothing devious but it will have its dose of your witty pettiness and unholy brattiness.

daddy won’t suspect a thing, you thought as you stopped your sniffs and cries.

wiped your tears with the cashmere sleeve of your cropped lavender cardigan as you got up from your sprawled position. patted your argyle patterned skirt down to smooth out any wrinkles and got back to work on the arts and crafts table.

and your plan is beginning to work because it does take Ari by surprise when you get up from your pathetic little position. the purple argyle skirt now fully covering your bum, he knows you’re ignoring his stern stare when you scoot your knees back to the small crafts table.

continuing to color from your coloring book as if nothing happened.

Ari scoffs to himself, what kind of mind game were you playing on him?

“what do you think you’re doing muffin?” Ari spoke and for once you stare back at him. eyes slightly red as evidence of your crying, they’re calm now as they meet his.

“nothing Daddy, i’m just coloring,” you spoke, the crayon in your hand shading in a midnight sky. Ari continues to stare down until he takes the crayon from you— but what he doesn’t expect is that when he snatches the crayon from you he accidently knocked over your apple juice box.

the mellow yellowish liquid spills onto your crayon box, containing the limited edition colors you prized. soaking your beloved coloring tools with the sticky juice; it made your bottom lip tremble as you quickly grab the slightly soggy box. you let out a whine as you feel tears spring in your eyes.

the unintentional incident and your heartbroken state almost has Ari yet again stumbling to fix what wasn’t really his fault. leaving the room to get paper towels and a cleaning spray.

coming to terms with this, you’re surprised to find the casualty of your crayons diverting the attention away from you and onto something else.

maybe if you kept this up, eight o’clock would come and he’d have nothing else to do then allow you to have your cartoon marathon.

you thought as you tapped a single finger to your peachy cheek in thought.

all you had to do was put him in situations that would conflict him into think it was initially his fault therefore guilting him into giving you what you wanted!

then you’d be set on the living room rug with a plate of your favorite food on your lap. a stuffie at your hip and looking up at the tv as the credits for the first cartoon of the night rolled in.

quickly finding some Lysol wipes and tissues in the playroom you clean up the mess and the cardboard crayon box as Ari’s loud footsteps come closer and closer.

swiftly disposing them in the craft trash basket and settled in your cushion seat before he arrived in the doorway with his arms full of cleaning supplies. when Ari stepped back into the room he was surprised to find you already cleaned up the mess and properly sitting as you continued coloring.

twirling a braided lock of purple silk bowed hair around your finger. figuratively showing how much you were controlling those dominant Daddy instincts of his he wasn’t going to have you get your way.

you still need to come to terms of all the wrongs you committed today and if all goes well he’d decide if you could attend to that cartoon marathon. “muffin?” Ari spoke and on que your head lifts up, your pearly white smile so tender and innocent as if you weren’t messing with mind to get whatever you wanted.

meaning excuse all the trouble you got yourself into.

“yes Daddy?” voice soft and perky as you settle the crayon on the table, he catches you sitting up straighter. elbows resting on the table and arms pressing close to your chest to pronounce your plump cleavage the top three un-buttoned piece of your cardigan displayed.

the delicious sight has him licking his lips, wanting to throw you over his shoulder with the loud and rough slaps to your ass and take you to your room. throwing you on the bed and rip every little piece of clothing off of you. 

—but that’s what you want him to do, you want to have him distracted from the task at hand. especially when the task is putting you in your place and marginalizing your chances of watching the night special of holiday cartoons.

“what do brats get?” that question has you dropping your eyes from his to stare blankly at the coloring book and lined arrange of crayons in front of you.

did you want to answer him correctly or did you not want to answer at all?

the options where bouncing in your head but you didn’t realize Ari’s still waiting for you to answer when you ignored the question. picking up a crayon and colored in a Care Bear as if he didn’t ask you anything at all.

“muffin are you listening to me?” Ari sighs, tone no longer the softness as a few minutes ago and no longer bearing the same patience as before.

it doesn’t match your inattentive focus, you’re still coloring and teasing him. the sleeve of the tight periwinkle cardigan slipping off your shoulder, showing more of your rich skin that Ari wants to kiss and mark with his lips.

shaking his head out of it, telling himself that he was the adult and you were the brat and he was going to— no matter how much you were going to cry — discipline you into obedience and get his well behaved muffin back.

“i’m going to count to three and if-” he’s cut off when you roll your eyes on him, catching his voice in his mouth like a frog in his throat. Ari’s conflicted entirely and pissed entirely because you’ve never rolled your eyes at him, ever.

so as you persisted to ignore Ari, scribbling one of your multi colored crayons, you have a pink one in your hand. shading in a heart and an idea shines like a lightbulb above his head.

without any warning his large hands snatch the coloring book from under your grasp. the pale purple crayon in your small hand that was once shading in Share Bears fur runs along the whole paper. the sudden climax of running colored wax against moving paper, shocking you to a gasp.

an offended wail excludes from your mouth but Ari is too pissed to feel sympathetic. getting up he holds the coloring book he bought for you during the weekend above his head. somewhat enjoying and taking pleasure as you stand up on your tippy toes and jump to retrieve it with fail. 

indeed taking pleasure as he stares down at your full tits bouncing in your comfortable tube top that’s underneath the cardigan. loving your cries and whines as you beg him to give your coloring book back.

eyeing your tiny delicious figure that's far too small to reach the skyscraper height that holds your beloved Care Bears coloring book. it made Ari’s heart melt when you hugged and pressed your kisses all over his bearded face when he gifted you it some day ago but he never thought he’d enjoy taking it away from you.

right now he has to put you in your place and ignore the tightness in his pants to deal with later. “Daddy you ruined my drawing!” your sobs and whimpers proclaim, continuing to jump as your cries became louder and tears become more present.

“you didn’t answer Daddy’s question little one,” he hissed and with that your cries come to an end to just reveal a glare then a smirk.

quitting your attempts of retrieving the coloring book you turn around and walk away. a slight hypnotic flow of your hips and curves making Ari’s eyes train to the plump assets.

“what was the question again?” you sighed tiredly, encouraging the deadly glare your Daddy has on you.

a yawn overcoming you as you hovered your hand over your mouth that makes Ari scoff. glossy lips still bearing cookie crumbs at the corners you stretched, you lick them off and you bite your lip at him.

mocking him in your divine rebelliousness.

letting out little high pitched noises as you arched your back with your hands twined together above your head. again, to emphasize your cleavage, “would it just go in one ear and out the other or would you actually listen and answer like a good girl?” Ari seethed.

you stand there and register it and of course you were heading off the direction you want but maybe you can turn the tables on him. “i’ll be a good girl Daddy, I promise i’ll listen,” voice soft and assured.

Ari cocks his head to the side at that promise, quirking a brow but not breaking the stare he has on his precious angel that’s playing the devil. he’ll put that promise to the test, walking around the small yet wide arts and crafts table he finally stands in front of you.

making you heart thump louder and louder with each step he takes.

crouching down on his knees to face you at your eye level, Ari sees the devilish twinkle in your starlight eyes. waiting for him to ask the question he knows you can answer correctly.

“what do brats get?”

his stern and mean face that always makes you stutter on your own words and trip over your own feet clashes with yours.

of course you can answer correctly, you can but you can’t believe how fun and thrilling it is with not just your growing ego but the wetness growing in between your legs. soaking your lace panties when your hands lift up to trace his bulging biceps through the short sleeved polo.

“treats?”

you whisper, before your hand goes to grasp the bulge of his trousers that he lets out a pleasured hiss. before you can smirk he’s slapping your hand off his trouser covered cock.

and in a blitz of a second you’re squeaking out a squeal as Ari grabs you by your arm. dragging you to the rocking chair resting near your bookshelves of thick hardcover storybooks and sits in the cushion seat before throwing you over his lap.

whines and cries getting louder when Ari lifts up the tiny argyle skirt to reveal your ass. tummy squirming against his lap he pulls gently at your hair to lift it up.

“keep squirming and i’ll add another five to the twenty you already have,” he hisses but you still can’t believe everything has lead to this.

Daddy never gave you spankings.

never gave you physical punishments before but as much as you were despising the situation you can’t believe how your slicked core is getting wetter with each second that’s passing. with your Daddy’s large hands caressing your ass cheeks and those thick fingertips teasing your pussy’s slit.

“you’re going to count each spank I give you and after each spank I want you to thank me. no whines, no crying just ‘thank you Daddy’. do you understand me?”

Ari’s deep low voice above you rumbling your core like thunder on a dark stormy night. only leaving you to whimper in fear as you nod but were caught off guard when he landed a loud swift slap! to your ass. causing you to gasp in pain.

“yes!” you cried but squirmed when he chuckled down at you. leaving you wandering what you did wrong before he landed another spank to the same cheek. causing you to cry out and feeling the honey of your pussy drench your inner thighs.

“what was that? did you even listen to your Daddy?” he hissed as another rough spank crashed onto your ass, “what do you fuckin say?” he practically roared, leaving more tears to drop down the landscape of your dewy face.

“one! thank you daddy!” you wail pathetically, tears soaking your cheeks, you knew your Daddy is doing what was best for you but you couldn’t help but want to squirm away from his grasp.

catching you doing so he grips your neck in his grasp. “don’t you fuckin run from me now muffin, you acted like a brat so i’m gonna treat you like a fucking brat. we have one down and nineteen to go, don’t disappoint me,” Ari seethed before grasping your panties and pulling them off you.

by pulling off he ripped them at the area that covered your ass, marveling at the wetness of not just the panties but your pussy as well. “my muffin got worked up misbehaving? you get your dumb cunt wet when you disrespect Daddy’s authority?” he murmurs.

stuttering and attempting to answer the words become inaudible once your lips part at the calloused hands of Ari’s. soaked panties in his hold, he shoves them into your mouth. making you taste your own sweetness as he licks his own fingers from your honey and moans at the tangy palette.

“I thought we established no talking, you really are just a stupid little girl,” as much as his words sprung tears in your eyes you couldn’t help but feel your core burn. clenching your thighs together as result he darkly chuckles at the pathetic action.

his hands grip your thighs to forcibly split them apart, “oh muffin cake don’t distract Daddy now,” he darkly chuckles and before you now it a loud and swift slap hits your wet pussy. making you cry out in pain that’s slowly growing into pleasure.

“you’ve done enough of that for today. right now Daddy’s gonna have to punish you,” his hand that’s still at your cunt rubs it.

the slick of your wetness sounding off creating an erotic echo in the room and just like that he’s slapping your small wet pussy with his rough hand again. 

“and no matter how much you cry or squirm or beg me to stop I want you to handle it like the big girl I know you can be. do you understand me?” his growl overcoming your muffled pained whimpers and moans as you feverishly nod your head up and down.

pulling the panties out of your mouth you nod your head, “yes Daddy, I understand,” you whimper after a few hiccups.

you can’t see the smirk plastered on his face but you can see his risen hand in the air from the corner of your dress up hand mirror. angled on the floor to capture the moment, shuddering when it disappears from the mirrors image you feel the rough spank at your cheek.

not as rough and angry as the first three but still enough that it stings tremendously, “two, thank you Daddy,” 

“that’s what I like to hear muffin,” Ari smirks before getting back to work.  

your Daddy continued to give you your deserved spankings, your ass bruised and sore by the time he was finished and was satisfied with each one you counted and thanked him for.

praised you for not squirming even when you wanted to as he covered your ass with the thin material of your skirt.

“you did so well muffin cake. handled and took your punishment like the good girl I knew you could be,” he whispered lovingly in your ear m as he carried you to both your shared bedroom to rub some soothing lotion on your sore bum.

“thank you Daddy. I-i’m so sorry I was so bad today,” you whimpered as chocked hiccups become more unbearable. eyes swelling up with tears and a little sob erupting from your mouth. Ari shushes it by taking your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“it’s okay baby, I promise everything is okay. no matter how bad you act always know, always know that Daddy still loves you. i’ll always love you muffin cake, that’s forever.” those soft blue hues lace with yours and you truly do feel at ease.

nodding your head at his soft supportive assertion, his forehead pressed to yours and your noses rubbing tenderly against each other. making you giggle and he grins as he laughs with you before setting you down on the bed.

Ari rubs the soothing cold lotion against your bum, continuing to shower you with divine praises, sweet appreciations and heart warming adorations that made your peachy cheeks sore from your never-ending smile.

afterwards he gently carries you in his arm downstairs heading to the living room. telling you how you and him were going to fix the coloring page he ruined as snuggle you face into his neck. large bunny stuffie in you locked armed connection he settles you down on the couch.

grabbing the fluffy throw blanket draped on one of the other couches he grabs it and wraps your lower half in it. giggling as he tucks it around your sides to make sure you’re nestled nice and warm, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Ari glances down to his watch with a soft smile, clutching the remote on the coffee table he turns the TV on.

smirking at your confusion when he goes on the channel that’s minutes away from airing the cartoon marathon.

“Daddy what are you doing?” your hushed voice catches his ears, Ari turns his head over his shoulder at you looking up at him with those conflicted doe eyes.

“i’m letting my muffin watch her cartoons. Daddy knows you’ve been waiting a month to watch them and daddy knows his princess deserves it,” his soft smile only but eludes your guiltiness.

“but i’ve been really bad today. b-bad girls don’t get TV time. they don’t get to watch cartoons,” you sob as tears began to fall once more but they’re quickly wiped away at Ari’s warm hands, cooing you into calming down.

“Daddy knows you’ve been bad today, but you proved to Daddy that you were good at handling your punishment. bad girls don’t get TV time, you’re right, but bad girls who take their punishments well and understand what they did wrong get TV time. because they’re no longer bad girls,” he smiles and you smile as well, leaning in for a kiss he accepts.

“there’s only a couple of minutes left before the premiere starts. Daddy’s gonna be in the kitchen starting dinner, if you need anything just call Daddy’s name out okay?” he whispers and you nod your head, shifting attentively on the couch to get into a comfortable position.

smiling to yourself as you pull your bunny plushie closer when the commercials end and the beginning credits to How The Grinch Stole Christmas starts to roll in.

you come to a solid conclusion.

no matter how you get in your bratty fits that your Daddy is going to forever love you. and no matter how stern Daddy is and how angry you are at him, you’re forever going to love him.

and no spanking or ruined drawing is ever going to change that!

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