#it’s important to me that I know how to sew and keep important things on hand

[violetrainbow412-blog]

A fair payment [W. W.]

Willy Wonka x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

People who might be interested: @strugglingwriterwattpad @cattail5 [Timothée masterlist]

some minor Wonka spoilers I guess! If you like it, tell me in the comments, that will make me happy :)

“Can you mend it?” Willy asked, carefully holding his emerald green jacket that had the sleeve seam torn.

The boy had arrived a couple of weeks ago to turn the world of everyone present in the laundry upside down and, honestly, you were already beginning to enjoy his presence. You looked in the background at the blackboard that Noodle used at night to give him lessons in the hope that he would learn to read because, according to the girl's words, because of that he was almost eaten by a tiger. But in the man's words, what was important was the almost part. 

However, tonight he had asked you especially to go to his room, because he had a problem that he thought only you could solve.

“I think so, I just have to pass the needle a couple of times” you smiled.

Since your arrival Mrs. Scrubbit had used your sewing skills for her own benefit, because after all you had ended up in that mess trying to save a little to be able to buy the necessary materials to make a pretty dress that would be worth enough to advance in the business. Although, obviously, that had not been possible.

"Thank you! I'm afraid that's my only jacket."

“It will be ready in no time. I’ll just go to my room and come back, okay?” you said kindly, placing the garment in the boy's lap and earning a sweet smile from the aforementioned.

Just as Willy had his little briefcase for his chocolates, you had your own, full of threads, needles, and buttons, which you just had to grab from the floor to get everything you needed. When you arrived back you settled at the little table and he remained attentive to your every movement, pulling out a chair so he could observe what you were about to do.

“There was a boy on the ship who helped me with these things,” he began to tell you, keeping his curious nose on your shoulder “But I never thought about learning. You know, for when I had to be alone”

“Well, it's lucky you ended up here. We are a curious collection of workers,” you murmured ironically, referring to all the people gathered there against their will by the work of fate "What did you do on the ship?"

"Cook. Mostly sweet things, but I also know a couple of useful non-chocolate-related recipes. I was the chef,” he said, and you laughed at the exaggerated way he pronounced the last bit.

Willy began to tell you about some of the adventures he had had on the high seas and you listened attentively as the tip of the needle went in and out to join the fabric. It only took a few minutes to get his clothes looking like new, taking the liberty of repairing other places that also needed it.

“Put it on,” you asked, trying not to look at him too much when he did so or pay attention to the way the jacket fit him perfectly.

"It is perfect! You can't even tell it was torn, huh?” he said with emotion, feeling with his hands as much as he could. “How much do I owe you?”

“Oh, it's nothing.”

“I insist,” the man murmured. His curly hair bounced across his cheeks as he sat next to you and he lifted his small briefcase off the floor, opening it to reveal all the little bottles of ingredients. “Your talent for mine. It's a fair exchange."

You had to admit that the chocolates you had eaten were a complete delicacy, but a part of you didn't want to get used to that luxury or you knew that when Willy was gone you would miss his sweetness. In the literal and figurative sense.

Locked in that laundry it was impossible to meet many people your age and Noodle was your greatest company, as if he were a little sister to you. But now that he was there, there was a certain happiness in chatting with him, much more now that his ingenious mind had devised a way to get you out of there even if it was just for a few hours to see the light of day and get coins from the sale of the chocolates to free you of the enormous debt to Mrs. Scrubbit.

“What flavor do you want to try today? Do you want me to add some unicorn skin glitter? Rays of sunlight from a twilight on the seashore? Tears of an African crocodile?”

“Just give me something you think I need,” you replied softly.

Willy thought about it for a moment, because it wasn't the kind of answer he would have expected. What was he supposed to give you that night? A little hope? Happiness? Nostalgia? It was difficult to decide.

Through his bright eyes you watched him reflect and just a second later his hands began to work. You noticed there was a hint of mischief in his smile as he poured milk, chocolate, and the contents of a couple of jars into the processor, glancing at you from the corner of his eye from time to time.

“What are you going to do when we get out of here?” he asked suddenly, not neglecting the tasks.

“Working in a sewing workshop, I guess.”

“Why don't you open your own fashion house?” Willy suggested carefreely, as if it were a very easy thing to do, “You are a great dressmaker.”

“And you are a great dreamer”

“It's my best quality,” he exclaimed, almost offended. You waited a moment before answering.

“I just don't think it's that simple. It requires effort, time, and a lot of money…”

“We will have everything,” he interrupted you, with that optimism that characterized him. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and one of his hands traveled to take yours. “When I open my factory, we will all be able to fulfill our dreams. And you are going to have a fashion house, I promise you.”

“You make a lot of promises,” you responded, blushing.

“And he planned to fulfill them all. I always do it"

Maybe there was something about the softness of his grip on your hand or perhaps the sparkle in his eyes that made you look away out of sheer nervousness. He seemed to be good and innocent, to the point that he probably didn't even realize how close he was to you or how inappropriate the position would be if Noodle ever walked in.

A tap interrupted your moment and then he abruptly pulled away, excited to show you the product he had just made. It was a pretty circular candy that was bright pink and seemed to be emanating smoke from the inside.

"What's that?"

“You'll have to try it to find out,” he murmured, as he extended the treat in your direction.

You had to admit that you were somewhat curious to discover what the man was offering you, so you took it between your fingers carefully, and even under his watchful gaze you took a bite.

At first it tasted like ordinary chocolate, but then it took on a strange tone, which made you feel a certain warmth in your chest that spread to your cheeks. It was a most pleasant feeling, like bubbly joy combined with the embarrassment of a hug.

You thought for a moment about what flavor that could be, without any success, until after a few seconds you realized that it wasn’t a flavor in itself, but a feeling, an experience... Was it love that Willy had given you?

“How does it taste?”

“Yummy,” you responded, covering your mouth so he wouldn’t see the wet chocolate on your tongue, but also to hide your smile “Delicious, actually. What does it contain?”

“A special and secret ingredient”

"Oh, come on! Aren’t you going to tell me?”

“I just want to know if I got it right,” he murmured and you frowned slightly, not understanding him “About what you asked for. Did I give you something you needed?”

You had to bite your lip to keep from smiling again, your cheeks feeling hot from the simple fact that he was looking at you. You thought that this could even be a love potion that you had consumed without thinking about it, just because he was the one who was offering it to you.

“We could say yes”

“We're even, then,” he exclaimed as he waved the sleeve of his jacket and you nodded in amusement, eating the rest of the chocolate he had made for you.

A yawn leaving your lips made you aware of how exhausted you were and although you didn't love the idea, you knew it was time to leave.

“It's late, I should go to sleep before we wake anyone up.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Willy said quickly, getting up from his seat to accompany you to the exit. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Rest,” you said kindly, and, gathering courage, you leaned forward a little to say goodbye with a hug that he gladly returned.

As you walked down the hall to your shabby, damp room, you thought that it probably wouldn't have even taken a love potion to fall for the charms of the pleasant chocolatier. You just needed one of his smiles.

#wonka 2023 #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #wonka movie #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee x reader #willy wonka #roald dahl #wonka fanfic #willy wonka 2023 #wonka fanfiction #wonka x fem reader

[dykeredhood]

I am so excited to sing along to HMS Pinafore and make some vegetable soup

#posts that could’ve come from the 1800’s #i have a half apron that I wear when I cook and I still need to finish making the needlebook to store in my apron pocket #bc that’s one of the things that belongs in an apron pocket: needlebook with a length of waxed thread #I’ve harped on about this a lot recently but being a Girl Scout lifetime member and being someone who used to be an actual ballerina #it’s important to me that I know how to sew and keep important things on hand #hell there are bandaids and 2 sewing needles & black and white thread in my wallet #don’t be nervous don’t be flustered don’t be scared: be prepared #bonus points if any of y’all recognize what I’m referencing in that preceding tag #personal #rant in tags

[queenofcoquette]

where to start

introduction:

self-improvement looks very simple on paper. eat better, workout, have a skin care and hair care routine. lower your screentime, study, be organized, have hobbies. but trust me i know how difficult it is to actually DO the things you talk about doing. how hard it is to even know where to start, and how to stay consistent. roadblocks also happen, things out of your control. but ultimately you can make change in your life, just little by little.

planning:

during this stage you need to think of what you want to accomplish and creating an action plan full of steps that can get you there. i've provided my own example too :)

prioritize your physical and mental health. when those things are improving then pretty much everything else in your life will start to follow. just look at yourself now and think 'what can i do better? how can i be happier & healthier?'

write down your goals.

create an action plan for each goal. what steps can you take to achieve this goal? make a step by step plan.

come up with things you can do everyday to reach that goal. what adjustments can you make in your everyday routine that'll help you get there? for example, i want to make an etsy shop so i sew for 20+ minutes a day on weekends, and sew 30 minutes on weekdays.

excecuting:

the most important part is slowly easing into your new habits. look at your goals and think 'what steps am i taking to reach it?'

meeting your basic needs. before you even think about self improvement make sure you're taking care of your health and hygeine. this means eating enough, being hydrated, taking care of your hygeine. always make sure that your core needsre met consistently before you even begin.

start small. once you've gotten consistent with meeting your basic needs then start making small changes. (ex. exercising for 10 minutes, reading for 10 minutes, start small with the habits you planned) dont overwhelm yourself!

have a fluid plan. be open to change- if something really isn't working then adjust it! and, when you continue to do something for a while, start doing it longer- i used to walk around 1.5 miles daily for almost a month and then started doing 2.5. keep increasing until you're at a healthy point.

having a good mindset. as always make sure your mindset is good. remember that progress isn't linear- you're going to screw up sometimes and get off track. just make sure you learn from every experience.

conclusion:

no matter what there ARE going to be problems or things that don't go your way, things that aren't in your control. since my 15th birthday i've been applying to jobs left and right, over 30 or so, and it's been 5 months of rejection due to my age (15 year olds can only work 3 hours in a row and most places need more). since i can't control that i just keep applying and in the mean time i focus on the other aspects of my life! it can be really frustrating but you just have to keep pushing.

#that girl #self improvement #glow up #pink pilates princess #queenofcoquette #healthy habits #it girl

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Look, This is gonna be one of those things that sounds bad until you read the whole story. Please don't read the title and go to 'yta' without reading.

AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

Look, My brother ISNT trans. He likes to wear kilts and sew, Which is what kind of started all of this. My brother is NOT trans, He loves being a boy (trust me, I can hear him enjoying being a boy in his room all the time. Theres no way he'd wanna chop it off(I mean this as a joke I don't actually know how the surgery works), He's told me multiple times that being told by others what he likes is 'feminine' and 'girly' upsets him because he's proud of being a boy and doesn't like being called a girl. Its not because he hates girls or thinks less of them, He just does not like being called the wrong gender which I'm sure you want to be called the correct gender too.)

Anyways lets begin. I (16F) am my little brothers (15M) best friend, Basically. We grew up together and do everything together, Including sewing. I liked it when I was younger, And eventually convinced him to try it as well. He loved it, And we love just sitting together and making random crap we usually end up selling at our yearly garage sale. (Our mom makes us sell all our unneeded crap every year, But we aren't complaining when we make like $100 for it, Mom and dad even help us figure out what we actually wanna keep (we sometimes see old things and go 'Oh I could never get rid of this' and then throw it away))

Sorry for the rambling, But you'll see why some of this is important to know.

Basically, We were getting our shit together for the garage sale, And invited over a mutual friend of ours, Who I'll call uhhh Ley (16F). Shes kind of obsessed with the LGBTQ and loves to help people 'realize' they're gay or trans or non-binary. By this I mean she'll literally bully people she 'knows' is gay or trans by always telling them they are and spreading rumors about them saying they are. The way she 'knows' these things are from gut feelings. I thought maybe she needed friends who would be honest with her and tell her gently that it needed to stop. She stopped being so bad with it and we even convinced her to admit to the rumors she started being fake. We've known her for around 3 years now, And she's stopped doing it as aggressively for 2 of those years. She still makes jabs and 'jokes' saying things like "Oh thats so girly, Are you sure you're not trans?" and "Oh thats such a boy thing to do, Are you a lesbian?", Both quotes she's said to me and my brother less than a week ago. I am straight and cis, So is my brother. We have nothing against the lgbt, We just aren't apart of it. We support the lgbtq as much as possible (with my part time job I like to donate some of my paycheck towards point of pride so people who need the surgeries or binders can get them), And are very open about supporting them.

While we were cleaning out my brothers room and finding stuff to throw into the 'sell' box (we like to do precleaning before our parents help us, It makes everything faster and less work on the people trying to help), And Ley found my brothers kilt. She did a long exaggerated gasp, Looking at my brother.

"So, How long have you been trans? Why didn't you tell me?? I knew it the whole time!"

My brother tried to explain that it was a kilt for men, And he wasn't trans, But she kept interrupting him saying crap like 'you don't have to lie I know now' and 'Its nothing to be embarrassed about, I knew ever since you started to sew'. The last straw for me was when she continued not listening to him and started to ask about how he was gonna come out as school. I yelled at her to get out, That neither of us were gay, Neither of us are trans, And neither of us are apart of any of the lgbtq. We are allies and nothing more. She tried to argue that he had a 'skirt' which OBVIOUSLY meant he was trans, I basically screamed at her that she was a stupid know it all who made everyone who wasn't apart of the lgbtq's life hell because she made sure everyone knew them as someone they arent (I know, I shouldn't of brought up 2 years in the past) and that I was tired of her trying to force everyone to be in the LGBTQ when its just not realistic. Not everyone is gay or trans, Some people are cis and straight. She started crying and left, We haven't spoken in a few days but I think I'm justified. I'm tired of living my life being told I'm something I'm not, I'm tired of seeing it happen to my brother too.

My brother later thanked me for standing up for him, Telling me it made him really upset when she said those things. To cheer him up we watched his favorite movies and I made him his favorite dinner (mom and dad both work day jobs so we both make lunch and dinner)

And for those who are gonna say that allies are apart of the LGBTQ I strongly believe the A is for aro/ace. Being an ally isn't a gender or sexuality

(unless people identify using ally/allyself of course or whatever it is, I'm not quite sure how neos work or whatever but I love to see how creative people get with it and am happy it gives people who don't identify with any of the normalized(? Idk the correct term but yknow the man woman and nb) genders a chance to be who they actually are)

Extra info on why I think I could be the asshole: I feel like we might've been able to explain it if we got her to shut up for a minute, But she kept talking over us. I feel like I went too far by insulting her, And I feel like I might be TA because she's also autistic (so is my brother though, And I have ADHD).

Why I think I'm NTA: My brother is really quiet and doesn't really defend himself often. He doesn't really know how to stand up for himself and is 'easy' to talk over (soft spoken, Quiet talking voice and nonconfrontational) which is why I believe I had to step in in his place, And I don't believe I did anything wrong defending my brother and making her stop calling him what hes not.

Anyways. AITA for yelling at our friend that my brother isn't trans?

To see later: PINK PANTHER

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 7

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] Part 7: [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (3k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Angry Sex, Nightmares, Domesticity, Morning Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary:

Glimpses of every day life and sharing an apartment with Carmy.

"I'm sorry, okay? I am! I won't use your ingredients without asking- just- please calm the fuck down!"

Your small argument from closing time had escalated on the way home to the point where you were screaming at each other by the time you slammed the apartment door behind you and followed Carmy to the bedroom. You had fought before, of course you had. But this was probably the worst one so far.

Carmy stood on the opposite corner of the room, hands on his hips, breathing heavily.

"Do you know how fucking expensive imported black garlic is?"

"I don't, but I have the feeling you're going to tell me," you spat, petty, the whole sentence leaving a bitter taste inside your mouth. You backtracked."I'm sorry. I'll pay for it, okay?" you tried to appease him even as your blood was boiling. "Listen, when I moved in, I was ready to make some compromises. I downsized my closet, I sold some furniture-"

"I didn't ask you to do any of that," Carmy interrupted you.

"Carm," you gave him a stern look. "I'm only saying that you could be more understanding about shit like this. We share the fridge and the pantry. I'm sorry I assumed I could use the stuff inside without asking, it will not happen again," you repeated, then inhaled deeply. "Just- I can't help feeling this isn't about that."

Carmy looked red in the face, angry like you had only seen him inside the kitchen, pacing and flexing his fingers. You couldn't believe he was actually losing his shit so severely over a steak and some garlic - even if it was a super expensive steak and black garlic.

He looked at the ceiling. "It is about you touching my shit without asking. It is about you leaving your things on the kitchen table when I need it to work-" he clenched his jaw. "I'm sick and tired of not knowing where anything is in my own fucking apartment!"

You had organized the closet to fit your stuff, and  put Carmy's vintage denim and your bigger dresses in storage. You still had to get a desk for your sewing machine and work stuff, in the meantime it had stayed on the kitchen table, which, in your defense, had remained unused for most of your stay.

"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked in exasperation. "I've been living here for three weeks! You could have said something instead of bottling it up until it was-" you gestured vaguely in his direction, "whatever this is!"

"I like you being here, I didn't want to scare you off!" Carmy groaned.

"Carm, did you think I would leave if we didn't agree on where the shirts are supposed to go?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Dunno!"

"You can tell me things, Carm!" you crossed the room until he was close enough to touch. His eyes looked like the sky before a storm. "You can tell me anything."

"Then why are you so fucking mad?" he said defiantly.

"Because I don't like when you yell at me like I'm just another chef in your fucking kitchen," you said, it was something you had been keeping quiet since your fight started. "I'm not getting paid to put up with this shit."

It struck Carmy completely quiet. And you regretted it the moment it left your lips. You had almost found some middle ground and you had trampled all over it. He took a step closer and stared at you, his eyes dark and angry, the space between you felt charged.

Before you knew what was going on, he grabbed you by the back of the neck and kissed you roughly, biting on your lips, mouth wide open. You pressed on his chest with your hands - you were still too mad at him. But his hands were strong and his tongue was relentless and you could feel yourself getting wet from the mixture of anger and lust - and who knew those two emotions were so close to each other?

"Fuck, I can stop," he said, barely separating his lips from yours, breathing hard. "You want that?"

You pulled on his shirt, bringing him towards you, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Then, using that same grasp, you moved him to the edge of the bed and pushed him hard, his curls bouncing as he fell on his back.

"I want you to fucking apologize, Carmen," you climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. You leaned over and trapped his wrists with your hands, above his head. Even putting all your strength into it, he could wiggle himself free at any moment, but he didn't; he stayed down and looked at you hungrily.

"I'm sorry," he said, a little too cocky for your taste, a smirk barely hidden on the side of his face.

You ground your hips against his, feeling his cock harden underneath you. He rolled his eyes and arched his neck. He looked beautiful, like a marble statue.

"What was that?" you asked, stopping your movement abruptly and getting close to his face.

He whined. "I'm sorry," and it sounded more truthful this time.

"Mhmm, that's more like it."

You kept holding both of Carmy's wrists with one hand, while the other moved downward, going underneath his shirt and playing with his nipple, massaging and pinching gently until he closed his eyes and hummed in bliss. Then you stopped.

"Fuck you," he said, letting out some leftover venom from your fight. 

You smirked - why was this so hot?

You got your answer immediately after, when Carmy got free and turned you over, fast and aggressive, like he rarely was in the bedroom. He caged you with his arms and legs, all taut muscle and shaking breaths.

"What about you?" he said, his voice low.

"What about me?" you tilted your head. "I apologized like ten times, Carm. And I meant it."

"You said some fucked up things just now," his breath tickled your face as he studied you from every angle, like he was a wild animal and you were his prey.

"I did," you admitted. You arched your neck, trying to get close and... What? Kiss him? Bite him? You weren't sure. He put one hand on your throat, not quite a caress, closing his tattooed fingers around it. You squeezed your thighs together, blood flowing with need. "I meant some of that too."

"Which part?"

"That I don't like when you yell at me," you said honestly, the moment a little cheapened with how horny you sounded.

"That all?" Carmy's voice had turned hoarse from screaming and you wished you didn't find it so attractive.

"Yeah," you exhaled.

"Good," he said dryly and got up, freeing you, but you remained immobile.

Suddenly, he yanked hard on your jeans and underwear, leaving you bare in seconds.

"Fuck, Carmy."

You hated how needy you sounded, how wrecked you felt as he licked his hand and finally put his fingers inside you, how good he was at making you crumble... You let out a pleading and pathetic sound as he touched your clit roughly and finger fucked you a little too hard.

Then, he took his fingers out without a warning, leaving you empty and out of breath; his hands ghosted the insides of your thighs. You grabbed at his wrist, begging to be touched again. Carmy climbed on the bed instead, hovering above you, kissing you ferociously.

"Eager?" he teased when you started raising your hips to rub on his jeans.

"Impatient," you replied, trying to wind him up.

It worked - his eyes darkened again.

"Hands above your head," he ordered and you obeyed. He took your shirt off carelessly, your bra was almost spilling out with how forceful he was being but he didn't bother taking it off. The whole thing was angry, urgent, and so fucking hot. Carmy was undoing his belt and you used the pause to scoot backwards, just enough to reach your bedside table.

"Hurry the fuck up!" You threw a condom at him, hitting him square on the face.

Carmy gave you a look that was half exasperation, half amused lust. He unbuttoned his jeans just enough to take his cock out, then threw the empty wrapper back at you. He grabbed your legs and dragged you closer, forcefully, the duvet wrinkling underneath you.

"I swear I'm gonna-"

You didn't let him finish. You fisted the collar of his t-shirt and brought him down to kiss, biting on his lower lip, then soothing with your tongue. You opened your legs wide and tugged at the belt loops of his jeans - there was something arousing about him being almost completely clothed and you being almost naked.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me," you begged into his mouth, way past any sense of pride you had at the beginning of the fight. Carmy wasn't any better, rushing to obey the moment you said it.

"Fucking need it," he groaned as he entered you. It wasn't clear if he was talking about you or him - not that you had time to think about it before he started pounding into you. You felt every inch of Carmy's cock as it went in and out.

"So fucking good," you rasped to the side of his face. It spurred him on and made him go faster and harder - your moans got louder and louder. He covered your mouth with his hand.

"The fucking mouth on you," he mumbled low. You clenched your pussy in retaliation and watched as he rolled his eyes and lost his rhythm. "Holy shit, you're gonna kill me."

You ran your hands under his shirt, tracing the contour of his muscles, feeling them quiver and strain as Carmy tried his damnedest to keep going, one hand on the mattress and the other keeping you quiet. Part of you smiled in satisfaction knowing he was getting tired and wouldn't last.

"Shit. Fuck me," he whined and stopped for a moment, sweating and panting. He finally uncovered your mouth, conceding defeat.

"Want me to take over?" you asked with a chuckle.

Carmy sighed and fell on the mattress beside you. "Still mad at you," he said, the sound pitiful with how hard he was breathing.

"Good to know," you climbed on top of him, straddling, lowering yourself on his cock, making him arch his back with pleasure. "I'm still mad too."

You rode him mercilessly, your hips slamming against his, hands on his chest, his eyes marveling at the bounce of your breasts. You took him right to the edge and left him hanging, the veins of his neck bulging as he groaned in frustration.

You clicked your tongue, swaying gently. "Not coming until I do."

"Yeah?" he arched his eyebrows, taking the challenge for what it was.

His hand moved from gripping your hip to where your bodies connected, his thumb finding your clit and caressing it. Your legs shook involuntarily, a spark going through you.

He grinned.

"Oh, fuck you," you sighed, your neck arched, looking at the ceiling while you bounced on his cock. He knew just what he was doing - making you tremble and moan with every gentle touch.

"Come on," he urged you, meeting your thrusts, fucking into you, hitting your G spot almost by mistake.

"Fuck," you gasped, biting your lip to stop from screaming.

You rode him much faster, something desperate and feral taking over you. Carmy's eyes widened when your walls started fluttering around his cock.

"Are you-? Can I-?" he asked in a choked out voice.

"Yes, yes," you managed to say, squeezing the wrist of the hand that was touching your clit so deliciously as your orgasm started taking over every one of your senses. "Yes, Carmy."

He tensed underneath you, flushed all over, eyes closed, and his lips forming a beautiful 'O'. You stared, waiting patiently for him to open his eyes.

He looked up at you, soft, grateful, a smile curling his lips.

"C'mere," he beckoned you downwards, meeting you with relieved kisses, breathy laughter filling the space between you. He caressed your back, tugging on your bra straps until you were somewhat covered again. The tenderness of the gesture warmed you all over.

"You okay?" Carmy asked and you nodded, nuzzling your nose against his in the process. A pause. "Hey. I am sorry. I was angry and-"

"I know," you fixed his hair, all sweaty and sticking on his forehead. "I'm sorry too."

He kissed your shoulder lovingly.

"I like you being here," he said. "I just- I need time to figure it out. That okay?"

"Yeah," you traced the line of his nose with your finger. "We'll figure it out together, baby."

You kissed him sweetly and he rolled you over to your side.

"I'll go to the thrift store tomorrow," you said, cupping his face. "Buy a desk and shit."

Carmy smiled. "I'll fix the pantry. Put labels on my shit. Make room for your things."

"I think that's the most romantic thing you've said to me," you joked, giggling when he tickled your sides.

"Shut the fuck up!"

He laughed with you, leaving kisses on your face and throat.

~

You woke up to the sound of Carmy talking in his sleep. Most of it was gibberish, quiet mumbles as he thrashed on the bed, the one word you could make out was 'Mikey' - over and over. He winced and let out a pained sound. You got closer and held him, your arm across his chest.

You knew he had nightmares, you'd been there for a couple of them, but sleeping every night with him meant you saw much more of it. It broke your heart how many you had missed, how bad he hurt...

"It's okay, Carmy," you soothed softly. "I'm here, baby, it's okay."

He woke up with a startle, breathing fast.

"Fuck, sorry," he sat up and ran his hands over his face. "Bad dream."

"I know," you waited for him to settle, giving him space.

After a while, he laid back next to you. You moved slowly, gently, touching the side of his face and caressing his hair, calming him down.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh," Carmy looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, "there was a fire. Just so much smoke," he cleared his throat. "And, uh, Mike was there." There was a long pause. "Did I ever tell you he planned to set the restaurant on fire?"

"What?" you froze.

He hummed. "To cash the insurance money, you know," he reached for your free hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing them close to his chest; his heart was pounding.

"I'm sorry, Carm," you waited for him to say something but he stayed silent, vacant. "It feels so weird that I never met him."

"Probably for the better, to be honest," he said dryly. There was something dark about the way he said it.

"Hey," you squeezed his hand, trying to ground him. "What'd you like about him?"

"About Mike?" he said looking at you. "Uh- He was warm. He told the best stories, took care of Nat and me, gave the best hugs... A real big brother, you know?"

You nodded.

"Started getting tattoos because of him," he said, flexing his hands to show the ink on them. "He was so cool, and I wanted to be that."

"I think you're pretty cool," you said sweetly, kissing his knuckles.

"Thanks," he said through a sad smile. "Richie says he was all wrong by the end of it..."

"Wrong how?"

"He wasn't warm anymore, he was, uh, like a fryer fire, I guess. His stories didn't make sense. Kept forgetting shit. A mess, you know?"

"Maybe that's why he pushed you away," you said softly. You knew Carmy felt guilty for his time in New York. "He wanted you to remember him like he was before."

"Maybe," he conceded, looking up at the ceiling.

You stayed like that for a while, caressing his arm, tracing lines on his skin.

"Would you-" he said, then stopped.

You turned to face him. "Yes?"

"Would you hold me?" Carmy asked, his blue eyes open and vulnerable.

"Of course," you smiled and shifted on the bed to spoon him, his back to your chest, your arms around him, leaving gentle kisses on his shoulder blade. You could feel his heartbeat settle as he went back to sleep.

"Love you, Carm," you said right before you drifted off.

~

You woke up to the feeling of Carmy kissing your face softly. You hummed, content. When you opened your eyes, the bright light of late morning was all over your bedroom.

"Didn't hear you coming in last night," you said, your voice raspy with sleep.

"Got in late. Bad day," he raised his hand to touch your hair, staring at the way it caught the light. "Nat forced me to take today off."

"That bad?" you asked, a little concerned.

Carmy moved his fingers to the worry lines on your face, soothing.

"Not really. Someone talked about work life balance in her last Al-family meeting and she's all about that shit right now," he smiled. You loved to see how he looked soft with sleep, relaxed for a little while.

"Have I told you I really like her?"

"You might have," he said playfully, then leaned over to kiss you. It was a gentle thing, his lips lazy on yours and his body flushed as he hugged you.

You took his shirt off, not out of lust, just wanting to get more warmth from his skin on yours. You slowly started kissing his tattoos. You liked the ones on his arms and hands; they were familiar, whenever you thought of Carmy it was the image you conjured. But you loved his other tattoos, the ones nobody else saw, the secrets he kept and only shared with you. You left kisses on his shoulder and his chest, running your fingers on the ink on his ribs and right above his hip bone.

"I've missed you, Carm," you confessed.

It had been a hectic couple of weeks. You had barely seen each other, mostly just sleeping on the same bed, saying good night and good morning before each of you left for work.

"Missed you too," he replied.

His hands roamed your body, tugging gently at the fabric of your sleep shirt, helping you out of it, all while kissing you. You melted in his arms, pliant as he rolled you over and started leaving pecks on your skin.

"Carmy," you sighed. His lips left imprints on your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and your chest. He stayed there, kissing the top of your breasts, the side, the valley between them, and your nipples. Your pulse was racing and you wondered whether he could feel it with his mouth.

"You're so soft," he said, his exhale giving you goosebumps. "Smell so nice."

"You smell nice too, baby," you giggled. Carmy's hair still had a lavender-like scent from his night shower.

"Mmm..."

He kept kissing. Your belly, your hip, the wrinkle that formed between your mound and your thigh. There was something so like devotion in the way that he moved; it wasn't about filling some selfish need to get his dick wet, he wanted you to feel loved.

"C’mere," you called him back up, to kiss his lips fervently, your hands buried in his hair. When you parted, he smiled, his eyes were still sleepy. He looked so comfortable, so soft...

Your hand traced again that tattoo on his hip, then moved downward, to the hair on his navel, and lower, touching him over his boxers. He was half hard, his nose buried in your neck. When he groaned, his chest rumbled against yours.

"So nice," he said. "’m too fucking tired to fuck you like you deserve, though."

Your free hand caressed the back of Carmy's neck, holding him closer.

"Just want you to relax, make you feel good," you whispered, moving the hand on his cock back and forth, slow, loving.

He moaned, then shifted a little on the bed. You didn't realize why he was moving until his hand snaked its way inside your shorts.

"Oh," you squirmed a little at the feeling of his fingers.

"Too cold?" Carmy asked.

"No, it's okay," you leaned to kiss him. "It's okay," you repeated.

You kept on touching and kissing, everything in that sort of clumsy haze, one of your legs over his. You needed this: being with him without the rush of being late, no urgency, no fucking as fast as you could before Carmy had to run to the restaurant. You had all the time in the world - you could count the freckles on his face and stare at the blue in his eyes as he mumbled sweet nothings into the morning air.

His free hand touched your wrist, guiding it to the head of his cock, the sluggish rhythm you had set just enough to make him roll his eyes and kiss you hard, drowning a whine against your lips as he released.

"Love you so much," Carmy mumbled.

You kissed the side of his face. "I love you, I love you," your voice came out choked and high.

Without you noticing, the constant massaging between your folds had built up too. You came with a long exhale, closing your eyes for a moment, lightly squeezing his side.

"Wanna stay here forever," he said after a while of just looking at you and caressing your back.

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," you replied tiredly.

"I'd like that."

~

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

#reader moves in with carmy; shenanigans ensue! #it's three separate days/nights in case it wasn't clear lol #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy berzatto smut

[juanarc-thethird]

Topic Idea based on Coco x Jaune Househusband: Jaune being asked to be the house husband of Winter?

Jaune's Apartment

*Ding Dong!*

Jaune: *Opens the door* Oh Winter! I'm glad you came.

Winter: No problem, thanks for inviting me to your get together. (This way I can see if you are worthy of my little sister)

Jaune: Thanks to you for coming, please come in.

Winter enters and sees that she is the first to arrive.

Jaune: The others don't take long to arrive. At the moment can I offer you something? Water, lemonade, um… Beer? I don't know if you drink or not.

Winter: *She keeps looking around* A lemonade is fine.

Jaune: Great, just a moment.

Winter: (He's attentive, that's good. Good start Jaune, good start)

While Jaune prepares the drink, Winter begins to inspect everything. He checks the furniture for dust, the windows for dirt, and even the floor for a hint of trash. But nothing, everything is clean. As if it were done by a professional.

Winter: (His apartment looks clean. My little sister would be comfortable living here.)

Jaune: Here is your lemonade.

He says as he approaches her to hand it to her.

Winter: *takes the glass* Thank you. By the way, who do you hire to clean your apartment?

Jaune: Nobody, I do everything myself.

Winter: Wait, you cleaned this apartment squeaky clean? You alone?

Jaune: Yes, it's something I learned living with 7 sisters. They really were a pain in the ass when it came to cleaning.

Winter: *Surprise* Wait, you were in charge of your household chores?

Jaune: Yeah, I was the one who cleaned the house, did the laundry, and even cooked.

Winter: *Curious* But your mom helped you, right? (It can't be possible for him to do everything alone.) *She puts her glass cup on a nearby table*

Jaune: Ahaha… *he laughs nervously*. Well, she's not very good at chores, so to speak. My dad and I were the ones who kept the house clean. But my dad works, so I did most of it.

Winter: (Wait so...) *Gets closer* So you know how to clean stains?!

Jaune: Ye-Yeah

Winter: *Closer* How about bathtub stains?!

Jaune: *Trying to move away* Th-That too

Winter: *Closer!* How about sewing?! Do you know how to do that too?!

Jaune: *Against the wall* M-My sisters always ripped their favorite clothes, so y-yeah.

Winter: (Oh my God! He is the perfect househusband! Weiss would be…! Weiss? Why does Weiss deserve such a man?)

Jaune: Um..Winter?

Winter: *Back to reality* Huh?

Jaune: Y-You are too close

Winter: Too close? *Gasp!* (Too close to my destiny!)

She takes both of Jaune's hands, drops to one knee, and with a voice of desire and hope she says.

Winter: Jaune Arc…

Jaune: *confuse* What are you doing?

Winter: would you marry me?

Jaune: *Red* Eh?!

At the time Winter said that, Nora and Ren were already entering the apartment using the extra key that Jaune gave them.

Nora: Hey Jaune, we brought the…

The two groups stare at each other

Nora: We'll come back later.

She says as she starts to close the door to leave them alone. But Jaune runs towards them and stops them.

Jaune: I-It's not what it looks like! There's nothing going on between us!!!

Winter: *Looking at him with desire* (Yet~💕)

---------

I look at Winter as a person who focuses on her work and family first before herself, and looks for the most efficient. That's why she looks for the best candidate for her sister. But what if that candidate is great for her? Love may not be the most important thing to her, but it's not something she's not willing to try~

#jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #winter #winter schnee #rwby winter #rwby winter schnee #winter knight #rwby winter knight #nora #rwby nora #rwby nora valkyrie #nora valkyrie #lie ren #ren #rwby ren #rwby lie ren #rwby shitpost #rwby

[andysorbit]

I read your Jisung sfw and nsfw post…

Jisung is totally the type of guy who has dirty thoughts about you but he would never initiate anything sexual because he’s too scared of rushing you or making you uncomfortable, but if you were to ask him if he’d feel uncomfortable with the idea of y’all being intimate he’d get shy and struggle to admit he thinks about it way too often 🫢

sooooo.... I had started this because well... I'm always soft for that pinhead and this may be a bit redundant and some of it might not even mesh with what was in the other one but whatever we love our big fluffy boi

just as before this is fluff and light?? smut, fem!reader

if you wanna read the one mentioned, go here

MINORS, FUCK OFF

Boyfriend!Jisung Who...

Buys you flowers and slaps you with them because he's annoying

comes home with food all the time

and you complain but you love it because this man makes sure you're always fed

"if your tummy is always full, you can't run from me"

likes to hide your things because he wants you to ask him for help

"Andrew, I can't find my sewing kit"

"did you just call me Andrew?"

"Yes I did, Anderson..."

"d'you need help finding that sewing kit or not?"

he's a space boy so he's always talking about space and if he's drunk he's in the zone

"so aliens aren't stupid... if they're capable of creating and operating technology so advanced that they can travel all over the universe, then why do they keep crashing in cornfields? shit- why aren't they crashing anywhere else? I believe in them but I feel like mankind wants to be smarter and better than everything else so badly that they'll insult the intelligence of just about anything."

"aw babe you've really put a lot of thought into that"

"I had to... I needed to make sure it made sense before I mentioned it to you. I didn't want you to think I was crazy and dump me"

"Sungie why would I dump you?"

"for thinking I'm crazy.... I just said that but that's not important right now- you gotta keep up- this is serious, okay?"

calls your mom just because he can

"your mom said she hasn't spoken to you in a few days, why haven't you called her?"

"Maybe of you weren't always on the phone with her, she'd answer when I call her dude"

"Well she invited me out for brunch so maybe you can come along too"

"maybe?"

"y/n if you're jealous then just say so"

reads to you because he knows his voice is one of your favorite things about him

shares his little rants, rambles, and questions with you

"Okay but instead of sending Jesus to the cross, why didn't everyone get one chance to file for like... spiritual bankruptcy and then after that for every sin you commit then you have to do something that bothers you like walk around for a week with wet socks or with a piece of steak stuck in your molars?"

"baby, are you okay?'"

"no, I need answers."

is so respectful because he doesn't want you thinking he likes the sex more than he likes you

moans in your ear when you're close because he knows you'll cum harder if he's moaning and talking you through it

he can barely form a sentence if he looks at you for too long but he can look you in your eyes and talk dirty to you while he's throttling you

he loves the way his hands look around your neck

he has a big dick

like it's fucking huge and your favorite thing is when he's telling you that you take it just like a good girl should

he's cutie pooks in the streets and Mr. Park in the sheets

no seriously one day you called him Mr. Park and he practically took you right there

he loves watching the way you take his cock so he always slides into you so slowly that it's almost torture

had you convinced that he had the equipment but didn't lnow how to use it and after your first time together he was smug af

"are you okay?"

"Jisung... don't you... I thought..."

"what? you thought you were gonna have to fake it?"

he's nasty but he's classy about it

#neoculturecollectives #andy's mail #nct #nct smut #kpop smut #nct hard hours #nct hard thoughts #nct dream smut #nct dream hard hours #nct dream hard thoughts #andyception #ANDY PARK #park jisung #park jisung smut #nct x black!reader

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Black Leg Sanji x reader l #Black Leg Sanji #Sanji x reader #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Black Leg Sanji x reader #Taz Skylar #Bellona's stuff

[writerblue275]

Heartsteel Ranking: “Scary boyfriend privilege”

(AKA how intimidating they are to people who don’t know them.)

Inspiration: I’ll be honest this is a bit of a random ranking but I thought it would be fun to do and it was!

Champions: Heartsteel

Genre: Ranking

Type: Fluff? This is meant in a funny way.

Tw: Small mention of alcohol (drink responsibly y’all), and swearing (because I do, in fact, have the mouth of a damn sailor.)

List goes least intimidating to most intimidating.

LEAST

Ezreal (One of these days I will do a ranking that doesn’t put him at the bottom! I swear it’s not intentional! 😂)

Let’s be honest no one is shocked he’s here, right? Where else was Ez going to go on this list?? This isn’t a bad thing though! He just gives off such golden retriever energy and it’s amazing and I love him. I want to be at least best friends with HS Ezreal.

Despite the usual happy golden retriever energy, he’s definitely not afraid to tell people off/protect you though. (I feel like he secretly has quite a temper. He’s a Sagittarius after all [love my fellow 🔥 signs WOOT WOOT]. Usually he’s very good about keeping it under control…but if someone [besides you, he absolutely adores you] pushes him too far [ex: by making you uncomfortable]…just see what happens.)

Aphelios

You absolutely have scary boyfriend privilege with Aphelios, but I just can’t rank him higher than any of the other members below. He definitely has that “brooding silent type” down pat, and when he’s wearing his mask, that’s doubled. That air of mystery, baby, he’s got that in SPADES.

We also know he’s tall. Like not Sett, K’Sante, or Yone tall, but he’s got some height on him (unconfirmed 6’). Physically, he’s definitely more intimidating than Ez. Like imagine Phel silently staring daggers at someone. Lmao I’d hate to be whoever pissed him off.

K’Sante

Most of this comes from his height (unconfirmed 6’4”) and the fact he’s one of the gym bros. Like general vibe/personality-wise, I think Phel could be more-intimidating than K’Sante (or even Sett), but have you seen how just MASSIVE K’Sante is? HE CAN CANONICALLY BENCH SETT. Like 😮😮😮

Not to mention I feel like he’d always stick close to you in public, so no one would even dream of trying to do anything to you. (Unless they’re a whole dumbass.) K’Sante genuinely gives me very kind vibes, but he definitely protects those he loves very fiercely.

Sett

Sett is (unconfirmed) 6’7” (at least confirmed the tallest in the group), and JACKED AS HELL. Not to mention “allergic” to sleeves so those arms are out most of the time lmao. Only a fucking moron (or someone who is incredibly drunk) would look at Settrigh and go “oh yeah I am absolutely going to mess with this guy.” RIP that idiot.

He also doesn’t fuck around about the safety of the people he loves. Sett genuinely seems like the sweetest guy (I love this giant, ripped, sewing himbo so fucking much oh my fucking god) but he can/will be intentionally intimidating if it’s necessary to keep you or Ma safe (the two most important figures in his life 🥺). Will walk you home/keep you close to him in crowded situations. He always wants you to feel safe when you’re with him (you absolutely do like how could you not?).

Kayn

So this is based on both appearance and reputation. Obviously Kayn has quite the reputation from his last band (as well as being kicked out of it.) Appearance-wise, he’s not super tall, but he’s tall enough. Not to mention the piercings, tattoos, the fact he’s also in excellent shape (I mean we all saw those abs 😏), has vibrant dyed hair, a very bright red eye, and he is a total metal head. He can also, um, travel through WALLS. (Small detail lol.)

DO I EVEN HAVE TO MENTION RHAAST (even as his stage alter ego)???? Kayn can be pretty impulsive and sometimes acts first, thinks later. (He’s currently working on that with Yone, it’s fine.) Someone would be a damn fool to fuck with him or you. He just gives me very loyal guard dog vibes. (I mean he did wear the damn leash in the mv so….😝)

Yone

There is no one (let me repeat: NO ONE) I’d want to fuck with less than Yone. This man has quintessential resting bitch face (RBF), is like 6’ 2-3” (unconfirmed), in very good shaped (based on the lovely titty window of his outfit. Thank you, Riot designers) and is able to (mostly) wrangle the rest of the group. Also (hella obvious but) HE’S AN INTROVERT (INFJ specifically). People are NOT his thing (fucking MOOD).

Yone is the one who gives the most similar vibes to the TikToks I’ve seen that show cosplayers at Cons with their scarier-dressed friends/partners following behind them keeping them safe. (For Yone, it’s the RBF/air of mystery that really sets the tone.) He gives me such mature gentleman vibes as well. He’s always going to walk you home especially at night, or he’ll stay by your side in a crowd and you are just going to feel really safe with him. Top-tier scary boyfriend privilege right there.

Most

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Ok so the least and most intimidating were extremely obvious to me. It was everyone else in between that made things difficult. This was really fun to write though, even if the concept is a bit silly! 😂

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel x reader #heartsteel fluff #Heartsteel ranking #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone

[scara-hater]

HELLO I

AM HERE TO REQUEST

Cyno, Tighnari, Wanderer, and Xiao with a reader who feels lonely when they're gone so they knitted/made a mini plushie of them to hug and coddle with affection everyday

Cause plushies are cute and plushie of your favorite character? I will be gripping that piece of cotton for dear life

Idk if you have a character limit so you can just choose how many and who you want to write for, for this request :))

Anon this is so cute?? Yes yes and yes! Apologies if I misinterpret the request! I also got too excited, so apologies x2 if it seems rushed!

Not proofread! One day I will create a masterpiece when i actually edit my work.

Pt.2! <--

——————————————————————————-

Cyno

You two stay in touch as much as you can, but him being the general Mahamatra keeps your relationship distanced at times. He’s dedicated to his work and everything within the gaps means nothing. With you being the exception, kind of. He tries to make time, but if he views something important, he’ll mutter a quick apology before leaving you to sit around the house alone.

You actually told him that when he is absent, you cuddle a makeshift Cyno instead. You love that thing so much, it never leaves your side. Even when exiting the confines of your home, it is safely secured in your bag. Explaining to him that It’s just comforting, knowing that if the real Cyno can’t be there, at least you have one that stays with you at all times.

But something about that innocent statement, left a wavering feeling in is mind.

after he bid farewell, and was far beyond sight, it lingered in his brain.

You on the other hand, were missing him something fierce. The doll was made out of old materials that belonged to the white haired general, so it made it very soothing when you would hold it to your face. It’s smelled of his freshness, and if you closed your eyes, could imagine him there.

And as the day passes and the sun greets the moon, you grow tired as your eyes can no longer fight your sleep. Now, all that can be heard are your soft snores within the bedroom.

Meanwhile, thousands of meters away, Cyno lay awake. Chewing at the feeling he’s had all day, a doll? Of him? While he finds endearment in that and loves you even more for it, the emotions mixing in his chest sit unlabelled. Rolling to his side he shuts his eyes and awaits to see you in the morning.

And believe me, when he came home and saw you cuddling your dear doll, it hit him like ten million bricks.

He felt guilty.

“Wake up, I want to hold you.”

Tighnari

Told you he’s going to be gone for at most a week and apologized for leaving so suddenly, not forgetting to hug you before he parted ways. Though when he’s gone it feels so quiet. Always resulting in solemn feeling in your chest, you sit around thinking of ways to feel better, until one day it just clicks. make a little fox friend!

You run to your mess of a crafting table and start sewing. With a few stabs and much focused stitch work, you finally have it, your very own fennec fox hybrid! Admiring your accomplishment, you hold the treasure to your chest.

Days past and the mini companion never left your grasp. It sat in your lap as you ate and layed in your arms as you slept, needless to say the doll eased your sadness when Tighnari was gone. It truly helped you through some of those nights he couln’t be with you. And in all honesty? he to misses your company just as much.

Counting down each day until he can nest in-between your body once again, feeling the warmth of your embrace, Archons he’s thankful everything ended early.

Entering the city, putting his work aside and rushing home, he acknowledges the might night return, so he puts in an effort to silently crawl unto the covers without waking you. Now lifting your arm to lay under, only to find something invading his spot. That’s his spot y/n, just what lays in his way?

He picks it up, and upon further insection, it looks exactly like him. It’s a doll.

You really are just the cutest.

Carefully moving it to the side, he then finally shimmy’s into the bed, at last in your hold. Your hands find their place, and he falls asleep, knowing he chose the right mate.

Wanderer

Is often aiding the traveller in their goal of finding their twin. That and tasking in odd jobs around Sumeru, so usually chunks of your day has been dedicated to creating a partner to keep you from feeling empty. And now that it is complete, you can cuddle it as much as you want! Fiddling with it’s nubby hands and tracing it’s rosy cheeks, this was by far the best idea and probably the greatest thing you’ve crafted.

Lone days now accompanied by a tiny wanderer. How cute is that?

“What the hell is that?”

Oh, you didn’t hear him come in, “what, this?” You lift up the dainty thing, “why its you! Just travel size, you’re too big to carry you know?” You joke while he glares at the object. “I can see that, but just why do you have it? Are you going to give that one a consciousness too?” Ahh you see,

he’s jealous.

Putting the doll down, you fold your arms and tell him to look at you “ Are you seriously going to hate on something that was made so horribly? Look at it! If that thing was conscious, it would beg me to turn it back to mere cloth and string.” Pointing at it you continue, “I only made it because when you leave, I do miss you sometimes, is that such a crime?”

Certainly not, he loves it and finds his chest swelling.

“Perhaps not, though I am the only one you should be directing your affections, I too am a doll y/n, or have you forgotten?.” He turns around to escape the ever growing blush reaching his face. Though the tips of his ears are a dead give away.

Xiao

Watches over liyue, that is his priority when it comes to what he does.

And it is hurtful on nights like this one. Today was tiring and draining. Working in a noisy part of the city and interacting with less than enjoyable customers is not what you wanted to deal with. But life goes on, and all you wanted was to see your Adeptus and tell him about how awful today was.

Though, you remind yourself about his duties, and opt for a solution. Taking out your knitting needles, you begin your plan of a replacement Xiao. Harmless and fun. Plus when you succeed, the victory is even greater when you get to cuddle it while sitting down. It’s small and squishable, they both totally have the same vibe. The only difference is, your knitted partner wears a happy smile. Bringing one to your face as well. Oh how you wish he was next to you right now, holding it closer as you caress it’s cheeks with your thumb.

“Did you call me.”

“AH-“ falling of your chair, the squishy mini xiao flies out of your lap and lands on the floor. “Jeez, make some of sound before talking into my ear like that.” Looking his way, you see his gazed locked on the item on the floor. “Uhh, hehe yeah, um- when you’re gone I miss you and stuff so I made it to keep me company.” You say, hoping he didn’t find you terribly weird. Yet, you see him walk over to his mini figure and pick it up, looking over it. And seeing how much effort you put in makes him feeling all tingly.

“Summon me when you feel you want my company y/n, say the word and I’ll be here.” Archons he is so precious, “ I know that, but I don’t want to burden you when there are important matters to attend.” Now that put a pout on Xiao’s face. “you could never burden me.” He takes your hands in his,

“I will never ignore your call.”

Now, on days where you both reside together, two dolls can be seen placed on a shelf next to one another.

Requests open!

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #cyno x reader #tighnari x reader #xiao x reader #genshin x you #the wanderer #adeptus xiao #genshin cyno #tighnari #KISS SMOOCH MWAHH #genshin x yn

[chaoticbardlady99]

Repose, My Love, I Have Sinned Enough (Astarion x F! reader)

CW and just content- violence, brief description of gore, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, brief mentions of sexual shiznet

Synopsis- You are a cleric of Kelemvor- a God that detests the undead and resurrection due to it disrupting the natural process. However, the Pale Elf you met in the aftermath of the mind-flayer incident is important to the bigger picture.

You’ve defeated Cazador and Orin, but Bhaal Cultists are still at large and they are specifically looking to kill you.

Song for this particular one shot is Eternally Yours by Motionless in White. Title is derived from the song.

Author note- I can’t remember when I recently read a few concepts on tumblr that I integrated into this writing (I.e. a God did answer Astarion’s prayers- I put my own twist on it, used a line from the game in a different spot for plot reasons). If anyone wants me to write any spin offs about specific moments, please let me know cause I love these two and I lowkey want to write mutually consensual ‘Gods I cannot stand you’ sex.

Hope you enjoy!

Photo belongs to @cheekylittlepupp on Tumblr

You hated him.

Astarion Acunín was single-handedly the worst thing that could have happened to you.

And you had quite literally fell out of the fucking sky with a tadpole in your head.

“My apologies” your ass. The minute he held that knife to your throat should have been enough. He duped you and he duped you good.

Overtime, you thought that Astarion was a pompous ass and you hated him for his existence- everything your God, Kelemvor, rejected. In spite of it all, you still let the man drink from you when he needed blood.

Kelemvor heard your prayers and allowed you to work with Astarion with no retribution to you. Being a part of a Divine plan to save the world has ultimately saved the Spawn.

Oh and Astarion despised you just as much- maybe even more. You were a threat to his safety- only allowed to protect him because your God had allowed it. So what happened once you no longer had need of him?

The two of you fought like cats and dogs, but your actions towards each other were in direct opposition with every nasty word you flung at each other.

The second week into the journey had demolished your armor and destroyed your only camp clothes. You had been silently upset about the endeavor- knowing there won’t be anyone selling any lounge clothes until you get to Baldur’s Gate.

The armor was an easy replacement- people sell plenty of that shit apparently.

You had asked everyone in camp (minus Astarion) if they either knew how to sew, had an extra blanket or cape you could use that they didn’t need, or had an extra shirt. Everyone told you no, but they would keep an eye out.

You tried your best to stitch it up yourself, but the thing had been a damn mess. You were sitting in your bra and leather pants while successfully tangling your shirt with the string.

You had finally had it and screamed at the top of your lungs. You threw the shirt on the floor of your camp and walked off with your Mace. It took an hour of hitting a tree and two wild hog kills before you had calmed down enough to attempt to return to your work. It was almost evening when you left and now it was getting dark as you got back- still in only your (sports like Karlach’s armor btw) bra, leather pants, and your flimsy camp shoes.

Gale had been thrilled to have the fresh meat, but had made you feel horribly embarrassed because he was trying to not gawk.

You had been a good sport about it- ignoring it entirely- and then went back to your tent to try to have something resembling a shirt before dinner.

Except the heap of string and cloth that had been strewn everywhere was gone- your shirt was perfectly stitched up and folded. There was a note attached.

So Gale doesn’t die from a boner induced stroke- Astarion p.s. I still hate your guts.

You gave him the Necromancy of Thay as a thank you and with the condition that Gale never knows.

You’ve also surprised him a multitude of times. You knew the right thing to do was to give him over to Galendral. It was just you and Astarion. You could team up with the monster hunter and just tell the group it had been a sudden “oh shit now I’m allergic to fire” moment.

Instead you helped Astarion kill the man and oooed and aweed over his very nice crossbow together.

Or the time that Araj wouldn’t stop asking him to drink her blood. You got so fed up that you knocked her out cold, woke her up, asked if she got the message, she said yes, and then you knocked her out cold again. Just because it felt good at that point.

“A woman after my own heart.” Astarion teased.

Your companions would frequently yell at you to get a room and you’d both scream about how awful the other is before storming off.

However, the two of you were formidable in battle when you worked side by side. It was the only time the group had any reprieve from your bickering. He stayed close to you and refused to let you go anywhere without him. You finally confronted him on it when he complained for the millionth time about all the walking.

It ended up with you two fighting in front of a very knowing Karlach and Shadowheart, yelling at each other nonsensically, and then Astarion suddenly broke up the fight by saying, “it’s not my fault your God won’t let me resurrect you if you die doing something stupid- which is very possible knowing the nature of this group!”

He stormed off in a huff and you shut up pretty quickly after that.

A flip had switched in your relationship following the first major fight the group had engaged in.

While making your way through the Goblin Camp- you had been injured fatally while trying to protect Gale from Minthara. You had been laughing and borderline crying with the irony of it all- you were allowed to keep the Spawn alive and anyone could resurrect him- but you got to sit there and die. For the first time- you aren’t comforted by the fact that your God will be waiting for you. In fact, all you can think about is Astarion.

Shadowheart was helping kill Priestess Gut and Halsin was in the middle of trying not to be killed by Dro Ragzlin. It was only you, Gale, and Astarion fighting and you are completely out of magic to heal yourself. You swallowed against the lump in your throat and took one last conscious ragged breath. You had let the world start to fade to black and the last thing you saw was Astarion running towards you.

Then you woke up next to the fire hours later with Astarion sitting on the log next to you- his book casting a shadow over his face.

Shadowheart told you that Astarion had practically half dragged her to where you were as Gale was forcing your unconscious body to take healing potion after healing potion. She told him not to worry- they could always resurrect you. Shadowheart says she regrets even uttering those words.

“Are you that incredibly unobservant or are you that ignorant, Sharran?” Astarion snarled, “she’s a Cleric of Kelemvor- resurrecting her would quite literally ruin her life so you better have a better back up plan than that.”

Astarion had been a mess and when they tried to put you in your tent- he had gotten pissed at them even more.

“She sleeps next to the fire, you incompetent fools,” he scoffed, “you can’t honestly expect her to heal in the coldest fucking corner of camp in that shitty excuse of a tent.”

You didn’t know how it happened- let alone twice, but you and Astarion did end up sleeping together. Kelemvor disapproved greatly (making it known after you helped Astarion kill a devil for Raphael) and you pushed Astarion away when he asked you to try to be in a relationship with him.

When he asked why- you told the truth. You were always meant to be enemies- you had allowed this to go on for too long and you should never have indulged in feelings that were silly- foolish even. Astarion’s heart was broken and he has been bitter towards you ever since.

You are the only one who knows that every word you said felt like you were being given a thousand papercuts. You want him so desperately- in every sentimental way you can think of.

But you are nothing- basically powerless- without Kelemvor. You can’t protect Astarion if you have no magic or the ability to heal.

The only exception to his bitterness was the day you barely saved him in time from Cazador.

You had found a blood stain next to his bed when you went to check on him. You had a weird feeling that you needed to. Astarion told you he had to grab something from upstairs before joining you all for a drink.

You had never run so fast- shouting at your companions to get in their gear and meet you at the Crimson Palace. Your lungs hurt as you raced through Baldur’s Gate with angry, vengeful tears streaming down your face.

You had basically demolished every single creature and person who was in your way- your abilities against the Undead coming in handy. Cazador had barely started the ritual when you came in and began slaughtering all the creatures guarding him- your companions were on your heels and came just in time.

You were able to focus on killing Cazador and stopping the ritual. You succeeded. When you released Astarion from his bindings so he could finish Cazador once and for all- the first thing he did was pull you into him and he clung to you for dear life.

“I thought I’d never see you again.”

Astarion decided not to ascend by some miracle. He still hasn’t told you why.

He took you to his grave and asked if you would give your blessing for his new birthdate. You had been absolutely bewildered- saying that is for your God to say, not you.

“I don’t care about your God, Tav,” Astarion said with desperation, “I just want to know you acknowledge that I am living- that I’m worthy of this new beginning. If you don’t feel that way or you just can’t- I will never bother you again.

“But if you do feel that way… please,” he stared at you earnestly, “you are the only one I know worth worshipping- yours is the only blessing I want to have.”

Kelemvor had told you you were on thin ice in a dream that night- your blessing had meant the world to Astarion, but was a cardinal sin to your God.

Kelemvor didn’t have anything to worry about- Astarion went back to being bitter and hateful towards you two weeks later anyway. One day you went from being friends to him bringing partners to fuck in the private room on your floor. He was also back to arguing with you and being nasty as all get out.

You don’t know why the Wood Elf at the Carnival specifically sought the two of you out the other day. You both scoffed at the idea, went into it expecting it to be a disaster, and then promptly avoided each other in the aftermath.

She told you your love for each other is impenetrable.

Considering the current situation- you think it was all just a shitty carnival trick.

It’s moments like these, as you watch him flirt with a very beautiful woman across the room at Elfsong, where you cling to those moments of intimacy you had been able to experience with him.

You are always heartbroken when he brings someone to the private room. It’s close to your bed and you can hear everything.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pretend you are okay with it today. You couldn’t pretend to be ‘just fine’ or unfazed. A child had died under your watch and you had barely killed Orin- the battle was gruesome and you saved Lae’zel in time (Thank Gods).

It has been a hard day. You are incredibly tired and your tipsy brain is grieving the fact that you don’t get to curl up next to him at the end of the day anymore. You haven’t been sleeping well since you stopped sleeping next to him- your nightmares came back in full force.

Your heart is entirely crushed like your spirit. You are certain that it’s beginning to show on your face and it makes you feel gross. You try not to be too obvious with how much you want to leave, but your little walk- sprint is far too awkward and telling.

There are plenty of Taverns to drink from with plenty of people to talk to. It may only be an hour and a half before the sun rises, but tomorrow is a day off so who cares? Besides, Baldur’s Gate never sleeps.

You don’t see Astarion watching you leave, the woman in front of him storming off in envy.

You don’t know that Astarion saw how you looked his way when he got closer to the woman in front of him- let alone that interacting with another person this way instead of being with you makes him equally as heartbroken.

None of these encounters felt right nor did they feel good. He had declined to Ascend- taking it to heart when you said you want him to be a man he can be proud of. Not to mention, you had destroyed an entire palace (Godey was scattered all over the halls) to get to him when he had been sitting there begging Selune of all fucking people to alert Isobel, Dame Aylin, Shadowheart- literally anyone- that he needed to be saved. Then he threw Jergal out there as a “fuck it, let’s try it” and not even 30 minutes later- you were there. Your eyes were full of bloodlust, anger, and vengeance.

Enemies to Lovers to Friends to Enemies again. Both of you are evidently in love with one another and cannot be together because Kelemvor said “psych”. The bards in Faerun will have a field day when that information comes out.

Ever since your display of brutal vengeance, he silently begged for you to finally just be with him. The light touches, the flirty conversations, the yearning looks- just denounce Kelemvor already!

There are plenty of Gods! Jergal could be fucking hiring for all Astarion knows at this point. It’s not like the ancient God of the dead and scribes wasn’t in their camp. He gave Withers a very suspecting look when they got back to camp- the skeleton merely bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Astarion had waited for two weeks- hoping maybe you had a change of heart and just needed the time to come to peace with it.

Nope. Absolutely nothing but friendship so he went back to trying to make you jealous. He knows it’s childish. What were you supposed to do? Denounce your God? The same God that had been there for you when your mother died in your childhood? No- that was and is unfair of him. He doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Astarion just wants one last moment- a tryst even- before you have to become enemies again. His heart aches for you- he adores you and he even admires your dedication to your faith. You’re passionate about the work you do- helping families grieve, providing them assurance that their loved one is safe on the other side, and saving towns from Undead individuals who truly mean harm.

If only he had met you in a different time period- before he was a Vampire- maybe then he could have been with you without the consequences. He couldn’t live with the crushing guilt of making you turn away from your God for him. Astarion can’t ask that of you and he knows he needs to stop trying to manipulate you into it as well.

He leaves the bar and searches the street for you. Astarion is relieved you haven't gotten very far. Bhaal cultists are still on the rise and with their leader freshly dead by your hand- well, it’s safe to assume you made enemies of the cult very quickly.

On the other hand, you continue to be lost in your confusing daze of emotions. The battle against Orin is far from your mind right now and Bhaal cultists aren’t even a thought.

What do you do when the person you want is someone you can’t have because your God says no? People don’t write books or scrolls for this kind of stuff.

Do you run away? Do you let them figure out the Elderbrain on their own? Do you denounc-

No, you think sharply whilst pushing the thought out of your mind. You can’t just stop worshiping Kelemvor.

Or can you?

Your internal war has given you tunnel vision in your pursuit to find the nearest bar- so much so that you don’t see the Bhaal assassin begin his attempt at your life from the alleyway.

You wouldn’t have known you were mere seconds from dying if you hadn’t been roughly pushed to the ground, landing flat on your face.

You scramble to your feet and what you see horrified you. The Bhaal assassin is standing over Astarion- who is now well and truly dead- his throat slit to the bone and a massive wooden stake in his chest.

The scream that tears through you is animalistic- the Bhaal assassin’s eyes widen. You paralyze him and use telekinesis to fling him into the dark alley. You break his arms, his legs, his jaw- the man is gurgling out for help. You mutilate his entire body- avoiding his head. The man is barely clinging to life when you light his entire existence on fire with the Blood of Lathander. You watch as his face melts off and you relish in his fear until his eyes no longer exist.

You almost forget that Astarion is dead. Almost, but only because you refuse to believe it. You drag him into the alley behind some boxes to shield the scene from onlookers. You gently pull the wooden stake out and press on his sternum with your fist.

“Astarion,” you croak, “Astarion- my love- please wake up.”

You are in front of him and trying so hard to see if there is any possible sign of life- you are throwing all of your healing magic at him as you beg him to get up. He can’t be dead. If he’s dead you can’t resurrect him and if you can’t resurrect him…

Your head is spinning and you feel like you can’t breathe.

This is the way of life.

That is what the doctrine teaches. Astarion lived 200 years too long- this is what was always supposed to happen.

You try to walk away- several times actually, but your heart cries out every time in protest.

He’s alone- don’t leave him. He can’t be alone right now. He’s probably so scared and-, You think.

You inhale and exhale- looking at him. You had closed his eyes so that the emptiness no longer haunted you. Nothing about this rest looks peaceful. His lips are still contorted in pain.

I can bring him back- there’s no time for for our companions. Kelemvor will take his soul when the Sun has come completely over the horizon.

You peer out at the sky- the purple sky was already turning to pink. You need to make a decision now and the decision is clear to you. You dump out the contents of your smaller bag of holding and the reincarnation scroll Astarion insisted you keep after the Goblin Camp hits the ground.

You can lose your God. There are many others- maybe even one who will let you love who you want to. On the flip side, there’s only one cheeky vampire rogue that makes you happy though and you can’t let that go.

You open it- the parchment burning your hands and you can feel your power being ripped from you.

Kelemvor is quick- as soon as the incantation leaves your lips and Astarion jolts back to life- you feel all your magic leave your body.

You feel cold, but all you can do is stare at him and cry silently. He’s alive and that is worth far more than any God’s blessing.

Astarion is coughing- touching his chest and throat as he becomes reorientated to his surroundings. Then he looks at you- his eyes going wide when he sees the used Scroll of Revivify in your hands.

“You-“ he chokes on his words, he looks at you with tears in his eyes, “you brought me back.”

You nod back and your lip trembles- you want to wrap your arms around him. You want to feel him hold you back- you want to know he’s alive.

“Why?” Astarion huffs in disbelief, “Kelemvor-“

Really!? Now he cares what Kelemvor THINKS!?

“I could give a shit less what Kelemvor thinks! You- you!,” you snap and throw your arms in the air, “you prick! I want you! I chose you! If I knew you’d be ungra-“

You are pulled into his lap with lightning speed and his lips are pressed roughly against yours. You are flush against each other as if you mean to consume one another. The kiss is sloppy, needy, and full of want- you finally have to break the kiss and breathe.

When you open your eyes to look at him- you are almost rendered breathless immediately after you inhale.

The warm oranges and pinks make him look like an ethereal creature- something celestial instead of undead. Astarion’s smile is a thousand times more bewitching in this light. Astarion is your Heaven and he is your home.

“I’ve missed you,” you say heavily, “and I hate every weirdo you took to bed,” you sniff and wipe your tears on your sleeves “- not cool by the way.”

Astarion’s face is quickly swimming with guilt and he rubs soft circles into your hips with his thumbs. Stray tears are falling down his cheeks.

“I’m sorry Darling- I was being childish and I guess I thought I could… get you to be with me one last time if you were jealous enough.”

You squint at him through unamused, wet eyes and he chuckles nervously- his smile reflecting the “my bad” expression.

“You’re lucky I only had one resurrection scroll on me- otherwise I would kill you right now and bring you back again,” you say with a huff, “or maybe not. You are very beautiful.”

“Why thank you,” Astarion flashes a cheeky grin, “you could stand to mention it more, my Love.”

You roll your eyes at him and you cup his face with your hands- pulling his mouth up to yours to continue pressing soft kisses to his lips. You stay that way until your stomach growls and you flush in embarrassment.

You head back to Elfsong, hand in hand, undeath and Gods no longer keeping you apart.

“Wait,” Astarion stops abruptly and looks around, “what about the Bhaal Assassin? Did he get away?”

You chuckle awkwardly and scratch the back of your head, “I definitely didn’t fatally mutilate him and then burn him alive with the Blood of Lathander… if that’s what you are asking…”

Astarion blinks twice before he throws his head back in laughter, “how quickly did you start that endeavor?”

“Uh… maybe a second or two, give or take,” you frown, “why?”

Astarion rubs the worry from your brow with his thumb and places a chaste kiss on your lips. He smiles down at you cheekily.

“You couldn’t wait 10 seconds before being an absolute freak?”

You beam at him, “for you? Never.”

*************************************

How peculiar.

A die hard Kelemvor Cleric renouncing her faith and celebrating the rebirth of a creature with 200 more years than he was supposed to have under his belt, Withers thinks while striking Astarion’s name off the record, I have much to learn. Matters of the heart are tricky- or so it seems.

Withers had, in fact, responded to Astarion’s prayer. Hells- he answered multiple times about 28 years ago when you were brought into the world. It took a lot of generations to get to you, but it eventually happened within the last 200 years- did it not?

You and Astarion were either meant to collide in one of two ways because Astarion had prayed for two separate things on multiple occasions. One of those prayers was to let him die and the other was to be saved- to eventually be given the opportunity to have a happy life.

You would either kill him in the name of your God and eventually become Kelemvor’s Chosen or you would fall in love with each other and you would denounce Kelemvor- ultimately finding a new God in the chaos. One that doesn’t dictate your romantic relationships, but maybe is a little judgemental of them. Kelemvor and Withers left that to your own free will- Kelemvor testing you time and time again.

The future was leaning heavily towards you becoming Kelemvor’s chosen. It had surprised Withers and Kelemvor when the scales of fate had changed.

Withers watches with neutral eyes as you and Astarion sleep on Astarion’s bed- curled around each other for a post breakfast nap.

Astarion is an enigma to Withers. Vampire Spawn rarely think of others outside of the people they knew in their past. The man had approached him at camp during the early days and flat out asked him if he was Jergal. Withers declined to answer.

The boy is smart- Withers will give him that.

Both parties look content, peaceful, and happier than they had in the last several weeks. Withers returns to his list and his curious thoughts.

The girl has lost her powers- exchanging them for love and she sleeps like a babe.

How will she complete her destiny now, Withers ponders, already knowing the answer.

I could use a cleric or two again…

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #karlach #bg3 #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion acunin #astarion x female reader #bg3 astarion

[wayfayrr]

The final raffle prize for my 200 followers event! This is for @peepthatbish with a reader learning and reading sign, I went though a few different Ideas before settling on this one to get the idea out, but wars sewing trouble and a soft wild won me over. What wild says through sign is the soft blue colour and the red is a mistranslation of what he's really saying. I hope you like it!! <3

[masterlist]

I wish there were an easier way to talk to Wild rather than having to get Wars or Twilight to translate his signs for me, especially since he’s been wanting to spend more time alone with me recently. As much as I try there’s only so far that reading body language can get you and it’s not like I can read Hylian either which leaves me stuck. Maybe I should just ask one of them if they’d be willing to teach me, I doubt they’d say no.

“[Name]? You seem distracted, are you alright? I know you’re not used to travelling like the rest of us but if you’d like to talk about anything then. I’m more than willing to listen to you, if it’s got you up this early then it’s surely an issue.”

“Oh? Uh, thanks for your concern captain but I was just thinking about Wild actually. I’ll keep your offer in mind though, so thank you..”

“‘About wild’? What about him are you thinking of?”

Huh, I could’ve sworn there was a hint of jealousy in his voice, but why would he be jealous of the idea of me spending… more time alone with Wild? Well, I think I might've answered my own question there. Really though, what reason would he have to be jealous of that, it’s not like Wars is close enough with me to be so possessive of me? 

“Just about how he’s been wanting to spend more alone time with me and how I’d like to learn some Hylian signs so that I can be alone and hold a conversation with him. Not that I don’t appreciate you and Twilight translating of course.”

“It’s never a bother to translate for you though, you could wake me up at whatever time and I wouldn’t even bat an eye.”

He pauses for a moment after that, the look on his face the same as when he’s planning his next movements watching a monster camp. There’s never been another moment other than that where he’s been this focused. Is the idea of spending more time with me really that important to him? 

“If you really want me to I can give you some lessons though, it’ll take a while for you to learn but whenever we have any downtime we can sit off somewhere quiet away from the others and I’ll give you some tutoring.”

He’d really switch from being jealous of me spending more time with wild and not wanting to do this to wanting to teach me himself? I know he’s getting some extra time alone with me while I learn, but does that really make up me possibly spending less time with him when I’ve learned enough to be alone with wild? Seeing as he’s willing it’s better I don’t press him on it so he won’t change his mind even if he does I could always ask twilight. With how he’s looking at me that might not be the smartest thing to do.

“What would you like to start with then [name]?”

“You know what kind of things Wild says to me the most often, maybe we could start with those things?”

“That does sound like the best place to start, I think we have an hour or two until the others will wake up, so why not start now”

And we certainly did, the time seemed to pass quicker than usual with him, it was nice to be doing something seeing as there wasn’t really a chance of me being able to go back to sleep. Something feels off about the signs he’s teaching me though, they aren’t what wild usually uses when he’s saying similar things. Maybe it’s just a different way to say things like how you can say yes in hundreds of different ways. He was still teaching me when the others started to stir, with wild waking up to start preparing breakfast for us all. No time like the present to test out the new language. 

“Mornin’ Wild! Wars spent some of the morning teaching me some hyrulian sign, so we should be able to talk alone more often now!”

Hey [name]! That’s amazing to hear, I can’t wait to talk to you more!! What do you want [name]. Can’t you see I’m too busy to talk? Just leave me alone.

“There’s no reason to be like that, I was just telling you. I’m sorry that I bothered you.”

Bother me? No, I want to talk to you, don’t go. Please? Thank you. Stay out of my sight for a bit, please. You’re distracting.

“I - I’m going. You don’t need to tell me twice.”

It’s like wild can’t make up his mind between his signs and his actions, he’s telling me to leave him alone but the second I turn away he grabs my wrist? It’s not like he really wants me here unless - Wars could have taught me wrong on purpose. With how possessive he was it’s not impossible, but why do that rather than just not teach me? He knew you’d just go to Twillight if he didn’t, you left him out of options. Wild’s grip isn’t to be messed with though, it’ll bruise if it gets any tighter - if it isn’t already. The noise we’re making seems to have woken the others up, as Twi shocks the both of us by grabbing our shoulders. 

“Aight - what’s got you’s so riled up.”

[name] said wars told them sign and I don’t think he taught them right.

“Wars taught me some hylian sign, so I wanted to talk to wild and he was just … mean.”

“Ah. I think wars taught you very wrong darlin’, Wild could never be rude to you, he’s fallen too far for that.”

With a wink and a nudge from twi at that, well he’s certainly proved my earlier thoughts, as well as throwing a frew new ones into the mix. No wonder wars would be jealous of him trying to get closer to me. But.. Wild likes me? That - well it adds up but I really wish this wasn’t how I learned. His kicked puppy look is heart-wrenching; I don’t blame him of course if my crush was deliberately taught to misunderstand me and then told about my crush on them? I’d be just as upset. Where should I go from here though? There’s a couple of different options, with one making a lot more sense to me. 

“Would you be able to teach me properly then rancher? I really would like to get closer to Wild; this seems like the best way to do that.”

“If the champ wants me too, then I don’t see an issue cub.”

Only if I’m there to make sure they’re being taught right. 

“Course wild.”

That should clear up everything then and I’ll be able to do what I actually wanted too rather than the exact opposite, Wild sitting next to me a blushy mess only makes it better. Twi’s lessons feel a lot better from the ones Wars gave me from the get go, he’s more careful with explaining the meanings as well as more patient with me; Wild adding in occasionally with things he thinks are important to know. I know I’m not gonna pick up all that much today but it’s amazing to finally be able to really talk to wild, now I’ve got some of the basics like how to spell Wild’s planning to take over most of my lessons for me anyway. There’s one sign that Twi taught me that really stood out to me though, crossing both hands flat and pressed to his heart. Love. The very same sign that he’s been using in place of my name for a few weeks now. He’s been practically confessing right to my face and I never even knew. Even with all of that I can’t help but want to tease him a little, now that the issues earlier are all cleared.

“So then lover-boy, were you hoping that your mentor was going to translate your confession for you, or were you hoping that this would all happen sooner?”

Hoping that you wouldn’t catch on for a long while yet. 

“Awh, is the idea of me knowing and reciprocating all that bad to you?”

Reciprocating?

I didn’t mean to say that outloud. My face feels like it’s hot enough to cook with now, why couldn’t I just keep my mouth shut! Wild seems to be glowing at that though, he’s not making a move to talk or anything, just staring at me with the sweetest love struck expression. I would love for him to look at me like that often, it’s so pure and loving that I can’t help but want more of it. 

Would you be against us being more serious then… if you really do love me too. I think I'd like to try. 

“...”

“I think I would like that, I’d like that a lot actually. To be able to call you mine? It sounds nice.”

#before anyone says I used the wrong thing for love #Its BSL that I used for refrence #botw link x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #linked universe x reader #link x reader #lu wild x reader #lu wild #lu twilight #lu warriors #moss✦writes

[queenofcoquette]

advice for teens

introduction:

hey loves! i know that being a teenager sucks, but i want to give some tips on what helps me. obviously some things might not apply to you and ik that we all have different lives. these are just general tips!

getting your priorities:

the first thing is thinking about what you need to focus on. such as:

doing your best in school

being involved in extracurriculars/sports

having hobbies

developing healthy habits

plan for the future! what're you going to do after high school? how can you accomplish that?

physical health:

STOP skipping breakfast! idc if ur short on time or don't have an appetite, me neither, but i always have oatmeal in the morning. it's quick, cheap and it doesnt make me feel nauseous. breakfast is important for your body so pls start ur day right.

make a workout routine. exercise is so good for your body, and starting now is easier than starting when ur older. i like to do home workouts, lift small weights and go on walks!

drink enough water! most americans are dehydrated so ik that this is a big problem. read about WHY you need to stay hydrated and what it does for your body, then get enough water.

getting enough sleep. ik life can get in the way, but if u just scroll on ur phone for hour instead of sleeping you need to work on that! go to bed earlier and earlier gradually.

go outside. get sunlight and fresh air everyday, sit in your yard or deck, or just open a window. but dont spend all day everyday cooped up in ur room.

mental health

keep a vent journal. THIS is so helpful. i use loose paper in a binder and whenever i get rlly stressed or just feel like shit i write down all of my negative thoughts. (then i throw it out) this helps you clear your head and regulate emotions so you can approach problems in a healthy way.

communication!!! learn to communicate with the people in your life- its crucial for all types of relationships. learn how to disagree in a respectful way, how to voice how you feel, etc.

obviously therapy is the best route but ik a lot of people either cant afford it or aren't allowed to receive it by their parents. :/

school:

have a to-do list

create a study routine that's attainable.

have a calendar to write down when you have tests, quizzes, etc.

research college admissions. create a plan.

join extracurrcular activities. good for college admissions and making friends.

avoid drama. this is obvious ig but just don't tell everyone your business, or your thoughts on every person/situation. drama just creates way too much stress. be mindful of who you hang out with and how you treat other people.

outside of school:

be aware. learn about whats going on in your country and in the world. dont be oblivious to current events and whats happening, pay attention!

reflect. i like to take time to reflect- i think about my goals and ask myself what steps im taking towards reaching them. i reflect on my behavior, how i can be a better person, how im feeling, etc.

have hobbies. find things you enjoy and can do in your spare-time. i spend a lot of my free time reading, sewing, or doing something along those lines and it makes me feel good.

getting a part-time job. getting a job helps you learn saving skills, real-world experience and is just good overall in the long run.

ik that being a teenager can be hard becuz ur emotions are all over the place, ur stressed about ur future and ur not a kid but also not an adult. it's a weird time but you can make it *better* through being healthier, being mindful and making good decisions. wishing u all the best :)

#that girl #that girl 2023 #self improvement #pink pilates princess #queenofcoquette #study motivation #healthy habits

[solarpunkani]

okay so pardon me as I wax poetic late at night about solarpunk again but like

and once again, I'm biased because I'm co-hosting the aesthetic week event, you know the drill, but

I feel like sharing our projects--big and small--are so important because they can inspire other people to do their own. And obviously this can be about sharing news about climate action, and scientific projects and progress and discoveries, but tonight I'm thinking about crocheting.

As we think about the future we want to create as solarpunks, we trade ideas. And oftentimes a lot of the ideas we trade are about futures with barter systems, where many many people do crafts like sewing and mending and knitting and the like. But--and I could easily be the only one but I feel like I'm not--I personally was too nervous to start many crafts myself. Because I didn't know what I'd do with the craft, if I was even capable of it, or if it was too big and complex for me. I'd been tossing around the idea of learning how to crochet for years, and my mom's been tossing the idea around just as long if not even longer for herself, but y'know what brought me over? You know what finally got me to give it a shot?

An online Solarpunk friend sharing pictures of a bag.

I saw that bag and I went 'huh maybe I could do something like that,' and within a few days I'd bought a bunch of yarns and hooks and was on a call (with a different online friend) learning how to do some basic stitches and knots to get started. By the end of the night, I was teaching myself how to make granny squares, with the help of a (different) online friend writing instructions to help me out as I got stuck.

And maybe I finish my bag, or my scarf, and I post a picture online--not even a professional, pinterest-ready photo, just a quick pic of it laid across my bed or something--and I inspire someone else to start crocheting. Hell, I've already inspired my mom to take a crack at it once the Christmas season is over.

But it doesn't even have to be me. It doesn't even have to be crocheting. Maybe someone posts a picture of a hat they just finished knitting, and someone else decides to pick up a loom or some knitting needles. Maybe someone crafts a birdhouse or a desk or a bench out of wood, and someone picks up a hammer for the first time. Maybe someone crafts something awesome out of clay and wire, and someone gets inspired for a new project. It can even be across artforms! Maybe someone sews an awesome dress, and someone else is inspired to write a short story by it. Maybe someone writes a short story, and someone else goes to paint a mural somewhere inspired by a scene in that story.

And in a sense I find it incredibly solarpunk. To inspire one another to learn and grow, develop new skills, to always find inspiration and hope to keep trying new stuff.

Some people laugh and scoff at the idea of posting ~aesthetique~ homemade clothes to the solarpunk tag, a handful think the whole aesthetic week event is pointless, but I find it the opposite. Solarpunk is about revolution, but it can't always be big revolutions. Sometimes its the small revolution of picking up a craft that changes your life, or creating an image that inspires others to fight for a better future. It can be about writing something that makes others question why things are the way they are, when they can be better. Sometimes the desire for a nice knit scarf can be the start of a mini barter system, or become part of the mutual aid we all dream of.

I feel like I had a point with this but I forgot. But uhm... yeah.

#out of queue #ani rambles #solarpunk #im probably not gonna put this in the aes week tag but yknow #anyways im gonna go work on this scarf while watching a video essay and maybe chill to the aes week playlist

[intothefandomverse]

Nimona headcanons I came up with while in line at Disney World

When goldheart was first starting wedding planning, they were told by one of the fancy elitist wedding planners that if nimona was going to be in the wedding, that they should change their hair to a natural color so it matched the (frankly quite boring) themeing that was recommended. Ambrosius was so mad about this that that night, he had nimona dye his hair bright pink to match hers. They went in the next day, and after the planner had a heart attack, they got fired.

Sometimes, Bal and Ambrosius will forget that Nimona can shapeshift when they haven't seen her in a while in any form other than human in a while and/or are really stressed and distracted, so when she just spontaneously turns into a shark (or other animal) they'll get startled for a second, then remember it's just Nimona

When Nimona gets tired of walking, they'll turn into a small animal and climb on one of the boys and make them carry him around

Nimona will turn into a cat when they don't get enough attention and start smacking things off the counters. It starts with the least breakable stuff and slowly accelerates to become actual breakable things, like cups, and even threatens to knock down important things (but never actually would)

Nimona loves learning about different cultures, especially ones that may go out of existence soon, because she feels it can help preserve the traditions and languages, even if he's the only one who knows them. They have a scrapbook of all the cultures they've learned about over the years, and a lot of it is drawn due to a combination of not being able to sit down long enough to write them all out, and not being able to write long sentences in most of the languages (they try to keep the pages with the languages to match them, even if it only ends up being a few words)

Bal's love language is infodumping. You can't tell me that man wouldn't rant about anything and everything sciencey/how things work at any chance he gets just because he loves it and wants to share that love with others. Ambrosius loves when he infodumps. He thinks Bal is cute when he does it. Nimona also infodumps as a love language. So does Otter Infodump Guy. Nimona and Otter Infodump Guy love dropping random facts about animals. And nimona loves listening to Bal's "how it works" dumps. Nimona will also infodump about their latest craft because they love crafting, and Ambrosius even taught her how to use a machine to sew (she never got to learn despite being around since they were created, his mom taught him how to sew when he was a child)

#nimona #nimona movie #nimona netflix #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #nimona 2023 #nimona headcanon #i love them so much #I'm back from vacation now #so the regularly scheduled menace to society-ing shall resume shortly #I saw so many dont say desantis shirts and they all slayed #and I got some stuff it was a fun time #I'm getting my nimona plushies tomorrow tho!!

[devskindawritingblog]

Hey! Can I request adult misty quigley x fem reader? And also can they kinda have an age gap? (Teehee)

Basically Misty obviously has a thing for needing people to want her and need her and feel important so her very codependent partner comes up with a way to make her feel better by letting Misty treat fake injuries on her? Like idk putting ketchup on her arm and misty bandaging her up and all that to keep herself feeling sane

Click to help Palestine 🇵🇸 🍉

Bandages

Older Misty x reader

AN: hiiiii im so sorry this took so long. I’ve be busy with school and stuff in my personally life but it’s finally out yay. Misty’s text is in yellow I think that’s the colour I originally picked for her. Divider made by @arachnid-wife

word count rounded: 1k

You and Misty first met when your grandmother lived at the nursing home that Misty worked at. You would visit your grandmother once a week. Misty was usually the nurse that helped with her, so you would see her often.

The both of you got very close, so close that you would go out for coffee together every other weekend. It was mostly about your grandmother, but after a while, the conversations turned flirty. You would spend more and more time with her. Soon, she finally asked you out. You went on a few actual dates with her. After a while, you made it official with her. She asked you to move in with her and Caligula. You accept, of course. That was a few years ago, and after all that time with Misty, you started to notice little things about her.

The first time you started noticing was when you accidentally cut your finger while chopping something with a knife.

You were in the kitchen, chopping vegetables and chatting with Misty. You guys were going to have a holiday party with the yellow jackets. You and Misty were chatting and making jokes when you looked over your shoulder, and that's when you felt it. A sharp, searing pain in your pointer finger. You wince and gasp, turning back to see your finger. You drop the knife and lift your hand. 

“Oh my gosh!!!” Misty rushes over and grabs a towel, wrapping your finger in it as you let out a huff in pain. “Fuck.” You sigh, groaning, as you lean against the counter.

You ended up having to go to the hospital to get it stitched up. Misty offered, but you were not going to let her sew up your finger at the house. You ended up being alright, and the party ended up actually happening, but instead you ordered some pizzas.

Misty spent the next few weeks keeping you in a bubble. Feeding you even though you cut your non-dominant hand. She would basically do anything for you if you needed to use your hands. She would check on your stitches every day and help clean them.

You really don't mind that she wants to take care of you. In fact, it's quite fun having her do things for you because she won't even hesitate. You want a glass of water? She’s on it. Food? Right away. Misty even spent a week helping you get dressed.

After your finger fully healed, you would notice a slight change in Misty. She wanted to keep helping, but there was nothing to do anymore. She felt like she was unneeded. You decided to talk to Misty one night while cuddling on the couch.

“Hey? You alright?”

“ Wha? Oh yeah, I'm alright, most alright ever." Misty says it sounds obnoxiously cheerful for someone who was pouting because you didn't need help making yourself toast this morning. You look over at her, giving her a smile that says, “I know you're not alright.” 

“It's, well, you know, I really loved taking care of you and feeling like I was useful.” 

“You're my girlfriend, Misty; you don't need to be "useful." I love you.” You say, kissing her cheek as she smiles back. “I know, but I guess it's my love language to help and to make you better.” She says she is pulling you into her arms and giving your healed finger a little kiss. 

“How about this? I'll let you patch me up and “nurse” me back to health whenever you want.”

“But I don't want you to hurt yourself.”

“What if we just pretend? You know, bandage up my fake cut or whatever else you want to do. If it makes you feel better, I really don't mind.” Misty's eyes light up, and she pulls you into a kiss.

From that day forward, it became just part of the two of you. Sure, it's an unusual way to cheer her up, but you don’t really mind. It always goes the same way: she “comforts” you and gives you kisses. Then she “disinfects” your “cut” and puts on a patterned bandage on it before “kissing it better." Misty claims that it's the most important part of the whole process.

One day Misty came home from work upset; it was just a very stressful day, and she needed to come home and see you. You're in the kitchen cooking after Misty finally lets you touch a knife without intense supervision. You hear the front door open and yell out. “Hi baby, how was work?” You say, looking over your shoulder to catch her taking off her jacket with a silent huff, not like herself at all.

She walks into the bedroom without saying a word and changes out of her scrubs. You put down whatever you were doing and follow Misty into your bedroom. “Hey? Baby? You ok? Bad day?” You ask, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her into a hug. “Long day.” Misty mutters, relaxing into your arms.

You pull away and smile softly. “I got a scrape on my knee earlier, babe, Wanna help?” You ask, sitting down on the bed and rolling up your pants to show her your perfectly fine, unscraped knee. Misty raises a brow. “There is no scrape on your knee, babe” Misty says, a little confused. 

“What? Misty? My knee hurts. Can you patch me up?” She finally smiles as she lets out a sigh. She understands what you're trying to do, and she grabs her little med kit. Misty kneels next to the bed, rolling up your pants until your knee is fully exposed. She grabs a little alcohol wipe and rubs it on your knee. 

“It might sting a little, babe.”

She grabs some bandage wrap, lifts your knee a bit off the bed, and wraps your knee up snugly. She finishes and gives you a little kiss on your bandaged knee. “All better, you get hurt a lot; you gotta be more careful.” You both smile and laugh a little as she pulls you into a kiss.

#misty quigley x reader #yellowjackets x reader #misty quigley