#Y'ALL ASKED FOR THE HOT TEA

[pickles4nickles]

Pickles Played Persona 5 Tactica and Has Some Words

I finally finished Tactica and its DLC sans some challenge stuff and I do wanna do some cleanup, but I thought I'd write a review for it.

It's long (like, 3k words long) and there's spoilers and overall... it's an Okay(tm) game, but... here, just lemme talk about it a bunch:

Alright, I'm not gonna mince words.

Persona 5 Tactica is not a game I can reccomend to anyone.

But is it a bad game?

Well, no.

But I have no idea who it's for.

Maybe it's for people who want more of the P5 characters? Not exactly? Both stories' focal points are on new characters and the Phantom Thieves just kinda happen to be there. There are some nice interactions, but this isn't a story about the PTs like Strikers.

Is it for people who like tactics but aren't really into P5? Well... it might be the other way around, actually? It's an okay tactics game with persona elements, but both parts of that are watered down when compared to base game persona and other tactics games like XCOM.

With that being said, lemme just ramble about what I thought about the story and gameplay.

THE STORY

The best way I can sum up my feelings about Tactica are "the story was told well, but I'm not sure if I liked it." This is a game that's less about the Phantom Thieves and more about Toshiro and Erina and focuses around the internal conflict of rebellion versus self-preservation.

Toshiro is probably why I'm neutral towards the game At Best. Erina grew on me but Toshiro...

Ehh.

At the beginning of the game, he's a big wimp and he's constantly telling the PTs and Erina that they have to be careful. From a theming standpoint, Toshiro's behavior makes perfect sense.

But from the petty bitch inside of me, this is infuriating because not only do YOU know that this is the Phantom Thieves that have taken down Shido (and also Yaldaboth), but TOSHIRO knows it as well and he's being Like This.

Like, he kinda sucks in the beginning and does so for the first two acts, understandably, but by the third act, when The Big Persona Moments happen, my opinion of him just kinda stayed the same. They swayed in a different direction, but... still on the negative side of the spectrum.

The reveal of Erina as Toshiro's Persona... makes sense. She's Toshiro's spirit(?) of rebellion and is based off of his classmate that once inspired him to stand up for himself and others.

Did I like this revelation?

Hell no, I was punching my thigh and screaming in voice call "No fucking way, Toshiro's so lame, though" as loud as I could without upsetting my parents in the other rooms.

From this point on, Toshiro now has the resolve to do what's right, even if it's scary... but he comes off as a little too strong in my opinion. I kinda have the same feelings about Zenkichi once he gets his persona in Strikers. In the beginning they feel like a new character meant to balance out the insanity that is how the metaverse is, but once they get their persona, they're full on inundated in the anime stand battles and they're a little too extra about it.

Having two full acts of "hey guys maybe we shouldn't help the hat people out of hat people slavery," pivoting into "WITNESS OUR POWER AS ONE" has the same vibes as a relative who's not really an asshole, but one that you've been trying to convince for years that economic inflation is the reason why our generation can't live comfortably, and once they finally understand, they come off a little bit too strong and righteous about it that you're not sure they're genuine or if this is a "he's a little confused, but he's got the spirit" situation.

And then god happens.

In persona games, I usually don't fully understand how or why the god-being is doing all of this, but I especially can't wrap my head around how they work in Tactica. It's mostly because Toshiro's metaverse is kind of a Silent Hill kinda deal where it's a mental torture labyrinth for him personally, as opposed to Mementos, which is naturally the collective unconscious, connecting everyone's minds and hearts together.

The jump from "I'm going to bully this one guy in particular" to "now EVERYONE will be as lame as Toshiro" is lost on me. Maybe politics?

It's... it's fine, there's no reason to lose sleep over it.

The ending of the story is nice and reasonable, though. It sorta redeems Toshiro for me. It's one thing to yell in your own metaverse hellscape how you're going to do the right thing, but once he's back in the real world, he actually stands up to his dad and fiancé and steps down from his political position to build it back up from scratch, but better.

And, yeah! I respect that.

That being said, though, the game isn't devoid of new Phantom Thief interactions. There's some good ones like Futaba "I don't kinkshame" Sakura, casually bi Joker as seen in that one "who would you marry" bit, and a guys only sidequest in which they think they're looking for Toshiro's porn stash (yeah, I know) (it's not). I wouldn't say it's crumbs, but you're not getting the whole loaf that you'd get from, say, Mementos Mission or Strikers.

The story also does this thing where the Phantom Thieves can relate with Toshiro's issues, but something about it feels... off.

Toshiro's in an arranged marriage with Marie for political reasons! Just like Haru! His fiancé sees him as a pushover! Kinda like Makoto! His mom died when he was young and he blames himself for it! Wow, Yusuke and DEFINITELY Futaba can relate to that!! Eri, the real person that Erina is based on, had to transfer schools because she was accused of a crime! Gee, that SURE sounds familiar-

Part of me thinks I'm being a little too unfair on the game for creating parallels like this because Strikers also kinda did this. But in Strikers, the PTs being able to connect with the jail rulers was integral to the plot. Here, it's just kind of a wink wink nudge nudge kinda thing.

And my knee-jerk reaction to that is a small "I get it, shut uuuup."

Again, and overall because I think that rounds out what I have to say about the story, P5 Tactica's main story isn't bad. It's told well, but I'm not necessarily the biggest fan of it.

GAMEPLAY

I've only played Strikers and I don't think I've played a true tactics game, so I don't know how much weight my opinions hold.

So um.

I dunno, the gameplay was fine.

The pacing is weird because it's kind of a visual novel first, and a tactics game in-between, but I got used to that after a bit.

It's a really simple tactics game and... yeah things don't get too complex outside of sometimes there are buttons that'll open doors or raise and lower platforms, sometimes height matters, but the mechanics don't get too crazy outside of certain boss battles.

The game revolves around downing enemies to get Once More's so you can either encase the enemy in a triangle formed by your units to initiate an All-out Attack or you can chain together Once More's to extend your unit's range and move them across the map. This mechanic took a bit for me to understand fully, but I never really got tired of doing it.

Boss battles were kind of hit or miss in this game. The fights with Toshiro's Dad and Salmael I enjoyed as they were kinda formatted as "here's a weird stage, go figure out what to do." However, Marie and *checks notes* "the scary Eri Natsuhara that Shadow Toshiro made" I didn't care for as much since they changed the game from "your decisions on where to move your units are key for this" to "you need to do exactly as we say." Which always kinda sucks, y'know?

Character selection is also kind of a weird thing in this, too. It doesn't seem like it matters who you take with you into missions, which... feels weird to me considering past Persona games. The elements have all been kinda smooshed down into less of a weakness thing, but just a special move that can hinder movement, do damage over time, or change enemy placement entirely, but which type of special you bring along doesn't seem to be as crucial as other Persona games. Each character has a slightly different attack, gun spread, and movement limit, but it wasn't anything drastic that I noticed apart from Haru (she is very slow but apparently hits like a truck) and possibly Morgana (his attack was very weak for me, but I'm not sure if that's because I didn't have him kitted out properly or that's intended).

I played the game almost entirely with Joker and Ann, while swapping between Erina and Ryuji for the last slot and I didn't run into any problems.

The last stretch of the game is... a strange one gameplay wise. Toshiro becomes a party member except... he's Different(tm). He doesn't get a skill tree, is a permanent fourth party member, and can initiate All-Out Attacks, but isn't a part of the triangle that forms it. He does have a gun, but it's in the form of a 0SP attack that Ernesto/Erina can use... that also happens to ignore walls entirely. And he also gets Almighty attacks, which kinda just do big number damage for way more SP.

It's hard to say if the game did a good job scaling the level difficulties to incorporate a fourth party member as staying on top of your persona fusing, weapons, and the skill tree can kind of make the game a breeze. I also played on the normal difficulty, so maybe in harder difficulties, Toshiro becomes more of a necessity than a party member that breaks the game.

My only big gripe with the game is just... the weirdness of the undo button. I don't know how it is in regular tactics games, but the undo in this game doesn't work on a "clear the last action this unit did" basis, but on a turn basis. If you happen to screw up on turn one, unit one, you have to back out COMPLETELY to the mission start screen, which is hella annoying especially if you're playing on the Switch because of the load times.

"But Pickles, what about the DLC? Surely you have just as many thoughts about it?"

Y'know?

I actually don't.

I liked Repaint Your Heart a lot. Again, it's less a story about the Royal Trio and more about Guernica, but it's closer to the traditional Persona 5 story format where they're changing someone's heart. This story also had much higher emotional... fidelity? I guess you could put it?

Guernica needed to remember her main inspirations for creating art - being abandoned and homeless and her big sister dying because of it and she embraces that anger against society into art that inspires hope in people less fortunate. While being groomed into a political pawn from basically birth and then, later in life, being thrown into your own mental hellscape sucks, in terms of emotional weight, Toshiro's story feels like a feather compared to Guernica's.

Also her design is just cool and the paint aesthetic is definitely more my speed.

In terms of Royal Trio content, I think this was the best case scenario we could expect from Atlus.

Emphasis on "from Atlus."

Yeah, we didn't get Black Mask Akechi, but there are MORE THAN ENOUGH moments where he lets the facade slip. His default spell is Megidola, but his skill tree lets him have both Light AND Dark spells. He'll cuss at you if you hit an enemy into him. I don't know what he's doing viscerally screaming half the time he summons Robin Hood.

Sumi. Is also there.

She is fine.

Guernica's connection to the thieves is also written in the same way as Toshiro is, in that it's a little shoehorned in and doesn't add to the story beyond that. After finding out that Luca is Guernica's sister that died, Sumi definitely feels motivated and inspired to help her out, but Akechi also being an abandoned child, scorned by society, and angry at the world because of it is never touched upon. This is probably for spoiler reasons, but... still.

Because this is a story that takes place during Sae's Palace in the main game, they all have to have amnesia about it in the end. Which, understandable, and at least no one in the trio had extensive character development but...

*clenches fist*

Man,

Having tackled this after the main game, I enjoyed the gameplay a lot! It's basically P5 Tactica but with Splatoon mixed in. When a unit is on a tile painted the opposite color for them, they can be instantly knocked down and combo'd on, which adds a whole extra layer of complexity to the game. I wish there were a few more levels to play, but the length of the DLC never overstays its welcome.

Hokay.

If you made it this far, congrats! You reached the end. And my tl;dr section.

I think that's just about it on what I cohesively have to say about P5 Tactica. This isn't a terrible game by any means, but I don't know if the audience it's intended for actually exists. It has a just okay story and just okay mechanics, but the DLC has a more than okay story and the core mechanics are given a fresh coat of paint (yeah, boo, I know) that makes the game more interesting. I would not go paying $80 USD to experience the DLC alone, though.

Thank you for reading my review if you made it all the way to the end! P5 stuff (well, mostly Akeshu) has been my muse these past few years and playing a game that was "just okay but why did they..." got into my brain real bad, so I wanted to write some stuff out.

I'll close this out with some bullet points of thoughts that I couldn't really cohesively fit into my review:

I really really liked how they got little costumes for the old timey Japan kingdom and I was hoping we'd get more of that and every kingdom was based on a new theme... but we only got three kingdoms and the last one before "Smithy's Forge from Super Mario RPG" was............ School.

SATANAEL'S BACK IN TIME FOR CHRISTMAS (BUT ONLY POST-GAME)

Erina also being Ernesto thing is mostly weird to me because she's still her own entity but also not???? The possible genderfluid connotations are cool though.

There's a quest where Haru asks Yusuke how to be fast. Yusuke tells her she has to "Become a Black Hole." I do not know what this means.

After the quest, Haru says that even though the axe slows her down, she's very partial to it as her father didn't like her chopping wood as a kid, but she'd sneak out and do it anyway. She later found out that her dad knew she was doing this, but decided not to scold her for it. She took this as a sign of kindness from her father and that's why the axe is so special to her. I do not know what this means as Haru's father was a horrible capitalist who basically tried to marry her off in pursuit of power.

The weapon designs in this game are generally kind of silly, but I appreciate that they exist in the game. There's a chompy gun with teeth that Joker gets and I really like it :)

God the Lyn tracks from the DLC FUCK

...what

Futaba says "sus" at one point in the end

[trek-tracks]

I actually don’t like Earl Grey tea

Why is Captain Picard a hipster?

He liked Earl Grey tea before it was cool.

[silksepia]

doctor's orders — joel miller.

pairing: jackson!joel miller x reader

requests are: open!

summary: your period cramps are awful. joel just wants to help because he's so caring, no selfish intentions at all.

tags: 18+ MDNI, established relationship, oral (f receiving), smutty, ambiguous reader (i'm keeping it as vague as possible so y'all can fit yourselves in), period sex, joel doesn't care about blood because he's a #real #man, shy/nervous reader, joel miller eats pussy like his life depends on it

a/n: there's something so amusing about this being my joel miller debut fic on here. this bts photo dropped earlier and all i could think of was this man eating you out, so enjoy!

my masterlist

Your period was always a thing of force -  heavy and physically taxing, the cramps making you curl in on yourself and unable to stand up straight as they pulsed through you in waves. It was four days of suffering, and you refused to take any of the painkillers Jackson had to offer, not wanting to deplete supplies when there was already a shortage of everything. 

You would just have to ride it out, as you always did. 

Joel hated your period. Not because it was something that grossed him out, but because you always withdrew from him when it was that time of the month. It seemed like you were almost ashamed of him touching you, cutting him off when things shifted from an innocent kiss to heavy petting on the couch, when his fingers would start to dip into the waistband of your pajamas. It was a week of not being able to shower with you, not being able to dive between your legs after a long day of patrol, and he could feel his frustrations and desires simmering under his skin. 

The window of opportunity presented itself when he overheard the town doctor telling you that you should “try making yourself feel good. Orgasms can help loosen up those cramping muscles. Don’t shy away from it.” You had broken off from him on your morning walk to the mess hall, eager to find a natural solution to your pain. Joel had lingered, refusing to go anywhere without you, and those words buried into his head, nestled deep into his mind. You couldn’t refuse doctor’s orders. They looped through his brain as you settled in for breakfast, barely releasing their hold on him when you asked him what he wanted to do on his day off. He shrugged noncommittedly, muttering something about a new project or helping the town as he pushed his eggs around on his plate. 

“Joel. Joel.”

His head jerks up. You’re staring at him, head tilted as you frown from across the table. 

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”

“‘M sorry, darlin’. Just tired.”

He isn’t though, and he almost feels guilty for zoning out while you were trying to talk to him. Eyes softening, you reach across the table to brush against his knuckles. 

“Why don’t we just spend the day in bed then? I don’t feel too hot anyway. We can just… exist?” 

He turns his hand over, palm sliding under yours, thick fingers wrapping around your wrist to squeeze gently before releasing you. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Your meals were tucked away quickly, the promises of warm sheets and warmer touches making you eager to get home and into bed. You can feel the dull ache of your cramps creeping in, shifting in your lower back and sitting there, heavy and present. Your shoulders curl inward and Joel automatically pulls you into his side as you make your way back to your home, his thumb rubbing circles into the base of your spine to try and alleviate the ache. 

The silence that blankets both of you is gentle as you enter your home. The kind that comes with knowing that there were no responsibilities calling your name, the world still turning even if you weren’t an active part of it. Your coat slips off your shoulders, Joel hanging it up next to the door as you toe your boots off and shuffle into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The pain in your back flares and you wince, one hand shifting to cradle your lower stomach. 

Joel is hovering.

His presence is large, taking up the kitchen as you exhale slowly, watching you work through the twinging in your abdomen. His hands drop to your shoulders, kneading at the muscle as you try to settle yourself. 

“Let’s lay down,” He offers, and you try not to melt when his thumbs catch on the knots of your muscles, meticulously working them out. He guides you out of the kitchen and up the stairs, still hovering over your shoulder as you slowly ascend to the top level of your shared house. He ushers you into the bedroom, gentle and firm hands peeling your sweater off, leaving you in your camisole and jeans before he’s settling next to you on top of the covers. You watch him rake his fingers through his hair as he sits back against the headboard before dragging you into his lap. 

“Joel…”

He shakes his head, refusing to hear your protests as he brushes his hands through your hair, moving it out of your face before cupping your jaw and pulling you closer. 

“Jus’ wanna kiss you. Been missing you lately.” 

You can’t help but smile at his softness. It’s a side to him that rarely peeks out, tucked so deeply away that when you first started seeing him, you didn’t think it even existed. Now it shines every time you’re in the comfort of your home together, where the outside world can’t touch the quietness you two built. 

“Alright, one kiss and then we nap.” You grin, leaning forward to brush your nose against his. His mouth quirks into a barely-there smile before he’s dragging you flush against his chest, knees drawing up to bracket you in against him. You slot your mouth against his gently, a whisper of a kiss as your hands land on his chest, fingers twisting in the soft material of his shirt. He lets out a quiet groan, lips immediately parting against yours, the kiss deepening as one of his hands curls around the back of your neck to hold you in place. He licks into your mouth, needy sighs dripping out of you as he pushes further, teeth nipping at your lower lip. You cant your hips down, feeling his growing arousal underneath you as he continues to kiss you senseless.

Joel’s hand glides down the curve of your hip, shifting to your front as he toys with the button of your jeans. He feels you tense above him, can feel your withdrawal before you vocalize it, and pulls back to look up at you. You’re pliant in his lap, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from kissing, eyes glazed over with need. 

“I–  we shouldn’t–”

“No.”

You frown. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

He frowns back at you, hands moving back up to grip your hips. “I wanna make you feel good, sweetheart.” 

“You are, I’m just on my… it’s okay. I don’t–” You flush, and he can’t help but smirk. 

“‘M not afraid of a little blood, baby. Just let me take care of you,” He purrs, gently moving to lay you down on the bed. He shifts onto his elbows, hovering over you as he leans down and presses a kiss against your forehead, and then against your mouth. 

“Doctor’s orders,” He adds, adjusting his weight to smooth a hand down your chest, your stomach, hitting the top of your jeans and flicking open the button. Your eyes flutter closed as he works his mouth against your jaw, your neck, thick fingers hastily shoving the waistband of your jeans down. 

“You don’t have to do this just because the doctor said it’ll help,” You breathe, and he fervently shakes his head. 

“Been thinking ‘bout doing this since the first time.” 

Your thighs clench at his words, hips tilting up so that he can strip you easier, faster. You can feel yourself growing slick from want, your arousal building slowly in your lower belly as his mouth continues to shift down the column of your neck and over the tops of your breasts. He doesn’t bother with taking your camisole off, his impatience leaching into his actions as he pulls the front of your top down and under your breasts, lips greedy as they move across the unveiled softness of you. He works his mouth over your nipples, one hand coming up to pinch and pull as he sucks on the other. There’s a haziness clouding your head, half-formed thoughts dancing around as your desire builds. 

“J-Joel, a towel, we need a towel,” You sputter as he yanks your jeans down your calves. He sits back on his heels, greying curls mussed, cheeks pink, his breathing heavy as he drinks you in. His eyes are dark, pupils blown as they rake over your chest, the way your tank top bunches at your stomach, your underwear that’s hiding your arousal from him. 

He licks his lips and your heart stutters in your chest at his unabashed want. Your eyes flit down, taking in the tent of his jeans, his erection straining against the fabric before flicking back up to his. After a brief staredown, both of you unwilling to interrupt the moment, he sighs. 

“Don’t move,” He growls out, shuffling off the bed and disappearing into the hallway. You listen to him banging around in the linen closet as your breathing slows, eyes focusing on the chipped paint of the ceiling. Your nipples tighten against the cold of the room and you shift, thighs rubbing together in anticipation. It takes him a minute before he’s back, looming over the bed with one of your lesser towels clutched in his fist. 

“Hips up, baby,” He murmurs, spreading the towel out underneath you before nestling himself back between your legs. “Let me take care of you, yeah? Doctor said it’ll feel better, lemme make you feel better. Missed the pretty noises you make when you cum.” 

He’s looking up at you, fingers poised at the waistband of your panties. He’s waiting for the go ahead, you realize, and you reach down to card your fingers through his messy curls. 

“Okay…” You breathe, and Joel spurs into motion, yanking down your underwear and tossing the pair behind him. He groans at the sight of your cunt, glistening pink with the mix of your arousal and blood, his hands coming up to grip the insides of your thighs as he pushes them further apart. 

“Fuck… missed this sweet thing. Making me go a week without tastin’ you, driving me insane. Bet she’s real needy for me too, huh?” 

He slides one hand off your leg, bringing it up to trail a finger through your slick. You twitch, hips jerking from the touch as he watches it cling to his skin, pearlescent and sticky, before bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking it clean. 

“Tastes good, baby. Don’t know what you were gettin’ all shy on me for.” He grins, draping an arm across your stomach to hold you down as he presses his nose against the top of your pussy, inhaling deeply. His tongue darts out, catching on the hood of your clit and you jerk against him, a whimper spilling out of your mouth. 

“Joel, please,” You whine, eager for him to get his mouth on you. Your cramps are still slowly rolling through you, though the weight and warmth of his arm keeps them at bay. He hushes you, pulling back to meet your eyes. 

“You’re gonna let me take my time and enjoy my meal, alright, sweetheart?” His voice is low, rumbling in his chest as he stares you down unwaveringly. You swallow, nodding. 

“Good girl.”

His mouth is back on you before you could get another word out, licking a stripe up your seam as you shake beneath him, fingers curling into his hair and pulling as he works on you. He's a man starved, moaning against your cunt as you tug on his locks, tongue slipping into your weeping hole before moving up and flicking against your clit. He latches on and sucks, the feeling making your back arch off the bed and your toes curl. The hand that isn’t holding you down trails against the inside of your thigh before one finger dips in, pushing and curling to hit the spongy spot inside you that makes you see stars. 

“Fuck…” You moan, writhing against his mouth.

“Yeah?” He breathes, before latching back onto your clit and working a second finger into you. Your eyes squeeze closed, your orgasm building as he curls his knuckles in tandem with his mouth. “Y’gonna come? I wanna see you come, baby, please, let me hear it…”

He sounds as broken as you, voice ragged with need, hips subtly grinding against the mattress as he continues to fuck his fingers into your squelching cunt, the mix of your arousal and blood coating his beard. Your grip on his hair tightens when he crooks his fingers just right, sucking on your clit particularly hard. 

“Joel–!”

Your orgasm rips through you, gasps and moans spilling out of you as your thighs clench around his head. He coaxes you through it, murmuring praises against your cunt. So good, so sweet, so pretty when you come on my tongue like that. He's lapping up your juices as you tremble under him, white spots swimming in your vision, your chest heaving from the sheer force of your orgasm.

Fingers withdrawing, he plants a gentle kiss on your skin, right above your pussy, a soft red print of his lips left behind as he pulls back to look at you.

“Good, baby?” 

He’s a mess, small streaks of blood visibly clinging to his beard and mouth along with the pearly sheen of your come. There’s a visible stain on the front of his jeans where his pre-cum leaked through from him rutting against the bed. You swallow a shaky laugh, nodding as your body settles into a soft hum. A heady feeling nestles in your bones, and you realize that your aches have fully ebbed away. 

“It worked,” You murmur, dropping your head back against the pillows, blissfully fucked out. He grins, pride and satisfaction written across his face as he takes in your satiated appearance. 

“Good.” You hear the familiar cling of his belt buckle, and your breath catches. “Because I’m still not done with you, sweetheart.”

taglist: @psychxbby

[hatethysinner]

Remmick reveals himself as a vampire to reader (maybe accidentally as a result of him putting off feeding? 👀) and she’s more than curious and willing to see how this whole thirst for blood thing works

ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ꜱɪᴘ

ᴡᴄ: 2.6k

ᴀ/ɴ: WHEN MELEY ASKS I ANSWER! though not in the way she probably expected because the freak bug bit me HARD with this one y'all so sorry in advance girl 😭. it was def all the leftovers from meant to be yours.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: 18+ MDNI (!!!!!), pathetic!remmick overload, creep!remmick if you squint, freaky!reader, established relationship, vampirism, blood, bloodplay, arousal caused by bloodsucking, inappropriate use of drool, dry humping, thighfucking (yes i went there), excessive use of pet names, excessive use of italicization, fast pacing

@jimmys-tiara

The day had been strange.

Not loud about it. Not obvious.

Just strange.

Remmick was still himself—polite, gentle, a little awkward in the ways that made him endearing. Still kissed your temple when he passed behind you in the kitchen. Still opened doors like it was a habit he couldn’t shake. Still called you darlin’ like the word was sacred.

But something was off.

It was in the way he moved. Like every step took thought. Like his body didn’t want to cooperate. He moved slower than usual, and not in his usual unhurried way. This was hesitation. Strain.

You’d asked if he was feeling alright sometime around lunch, when he barely touched the tea you brought him. He just smiled that soft, bashful smile, said, “Feelin’ a bit worn down, s’all. Long night,” and squeezed your hand.

But the hours ticked on, and it got worse.

By dusk, he was sitting rigid on the edge of the couch, hands clasped too tight between his knees, eyes following you with a focus that didn’t feel like Remmick. Like his body was in the room but his thoughts were very, very far away.

You’d offered dinner. He declined.

Said the smell of meat was making his stomach turn.

So now, it was just you.

Washing dishes with the windows cracked open to let in the summer night, the scent of honeysuckle thick in the air. Your hands moved absently through warm, soapy water, and for a while, the only sound in the house was the hush of running water and the soft creak of the old fan rotating from the corner of the living room.

Until you glanced over your shoulder.

And saw him watching you.

No—staring.

Not at your eyes. Not at your hands.

At your neck.

Still. Unmoving. Like he’d been sitting that way for a while.

You swallowed, wiped your hands, and padded across the room barefoot, quiet. The floorboards creaked beneath your weight as you lowered yourself onto the couch beside him.

“You okay?” you asked, soft.

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t look away, either.

You reached up and pressed your palm to his forehead. It wasn’t hot. It wasn’t even room temperature.

It was cold.

Colder than it had any right to be.

Your brow furrowed. “Remmick.”

Still nothing.

You snapped your fingers once, hard, right beside his ear.

That seemed to shake him.

His eyes blinked. Once. Twice.

He looked at you like he was realizing where he was.

Then that familiar, apologetic little smile crept onto his lips. “Sorry, darlin’. Don’t know what’s gotten into me. Just… tired, I s’pose.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but his voice trailed off.

Because he was already leaning in.

His face dipped low toward your throat, nose brushing the curve where your jaw met your neck. He inhaled, slow and deliberate, and your breath caught.

“Smell so sweet,” he mumbled, almost slurred. “So damn warm…”

His lips grazed your skin, then pressed there.

Not a kiss.

A test.

He mouthed at your pulse, breath shaking, and you felt a shiver ripple down your spine. Not of fear, not yet, but of something older. Primal.

“Been so long,” he whispered, more to himself than you. “So damn long. Shouldn’t’ve waited this long. Just—just lemme taste ya sweetheart…”

Your heartbeat kicked up.

You reached for him.

Caught his face in both hands and pulled him back to look at you.

And what you saw—

Your breath left you.

His pupils had all but disappeared, consumed by a burning crimson red. The blue was still there, barely, ringed around the edge like the last scrap of daylight before night swallowed the sky.

His fangs were bared. No attempt to hide them. Sharp. Long. Gleaming wet behind parted lips.

And his hands—those sweet, gentle hands—clenched tight in his lap, the nails lengthening in slow, grotesque stretches. Not growing, exactly. Just revealing what they’d been all along.

“Remmick…” you breathed.

His eyes widened, and the horror that bloomed across his face felt real. Human.

He pulled away like you’d burned him.

“I—I didn’t mean—fuck—I’m sorry, baby,” he stammered, backing toward the other side of the couch like space would fix it. “I wasn’t—I wasn’t gonna hurt ya. I swear it.”

You sat frozen, fingers still hanging in the air where his face had been.

“You’re freezing,” you said, softly. “You’re… starving.”

He shook his head too fast. “No, no, I—I waited too long, that’s all. Should’ve handled it before now, I know better—hell, I knew this was gonna happen—”

“Remmick.”

He stopped. Breathing hard. Watching you with eyes still lit like a furnace behind glass.

And you smiled.

Slow.

But not steady.

There was a tremble at the corners of your mouth, a hesitation that hadn’t been there a moment before. Your fingers curled into your palms, grounding yourself. Because you felt it now. How heavy the air had grown. How close you were sitting to something ancient. Unnatural. Starving.

“You should’ve just told me,” you said, softer this time. Like if you said it too loud, it might shatter whatever thin line he was still clinging to.

His lips parted in stunned silence. That rabbit-caught-in-a-trap kind of look. But his chest wasn’t rising. Wasn’t falling. Just perfectly still, like he didn’t need breath to live anymore.

“Darlin’,” he said, hoarse, almost broken, “ya don’t know what you’re sayin’.”

You hesitated.

Swallowed.

Your eyes darted to his mouth—his fangs—then down to his hands, where his fingers twitched against the couch cushion, claws now fully bared. Your heart beat too fast. Too loud. You were painfully aware of every pulse in your neck, every throb beneath your skin.

And still—

Still, something in you wanted to understand.

So you said, quieter than before, “Then show me.”

There was a beat.

A pause so deep it felt like the house held its breath.

And the hunger in his eyes flared again—brighter. Wilder. But something else flickered there too.

Regret.

He leaned in half an inch.

Then stopped.

Because this time?

He didn’t pull away.

But you almost did.

Remmick caught the tremor in your breath, the way your fingers tensed against the cushion between you. And for the first time all night, he seemed to wrestle with it. With himself. Like he was clawing his way out of something that had been dragging him under all day.

His jaw clenched.

“Sweetheart,” he said, voice low, too low. “If I do this—if I start—I ain’t gonna be able to stop right away. Ya understand?”

You stared at him.

His eyes were no longer just red.

They were lit from within. Glowing like coals.

He moved closer—slow, cautious—as if giving you time to run.

“I’m gonna bite ya.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

He nodded, almost to himself, like saying it out loud made it more real. His voice dropped to a rasp.

“I’m gonna feed from ya, darlin’. Gonna sink my teeth in your neck and drink until it don’t hurt no more.”

His eyes searched yours. Frantic. Feral. “Tell me no, and I’ll go. I swear it. Y’just gotta say it.”

And you—

You didn’t say anything.

You just nodded.

Small.

Slow.

But it was enough.

Remmick groaned—something low and pained and grateful—and the next second, he was on you.

His mouth opened wide at your throat, breath hot and trembling, and then—

Pain.

Not sharp, not brutal, but sudden. Like two white-hot needles driven deep into the skin just beneath your jaw. Your whole body jerked, legs tensing, one hand clenching the cushion beside you, the other flinging up to grip his shoulder.

But before you could cry out, before you could fully register the hurt, something else rushed in.

A different heat.

Low.

Molten.

You moaned.

Without meaning to. Without thinking.

The ache was there, yes—but so was the pleasure. Something electric, something low in your belly, curling like smoke. Your legs loosened. Your fingers curled in his shirt instead of pushing him away.

Remmick groaned, too.

A deep, needy sound that rumbled against your skin. He sucked at your neck—first slow, reverent, and then hungrier, mouth working in wet, desperate pulls that sent little shocks through your whole body. His hips shifted forward against yours like he couldn’t help it, breath coming hard through his nose.

He sounded like he was enjoying it. Like this was more than hunger. Like it was bliss.

His arms wound tight around you, strong enough to cage you in, to keep you still. He lowered you down onto the couch, one hand at your back, the other slipping under your knees to cradle you, and his mouth never left your throat.

Not for a second.

The room tilted sideways.

You could feel your pulse slowing, but your arousal spiked—nerves on fire, thighs clenching around nothing, the soft friction of your clothes suddenly too much and not enough all at once. You gasped again, the sound melting into another broken moan as he sucked harder, deeper.

And still, his arms didn’t let you go.

As though you would pull away.

As though you could.

Your hand slipped into his hair, tangled there. You couldn’t help it. He was warm now. Burning. You could feel the heat rising off him as he fed, felt the subtle tremble of his body pressing flush against yours.

And then—

You felt it.

The slow, rolling grind of his hips against you.

Subtle at first. Gentle. But there.

His cock, still confined by fabric, dragging against your thigh in shallow, involuntary thrusts.

It didn’t feel like a decision.

It felt like a need.

And the worst part was—he didn’t seem to realize he was doing it.

Remmick was moaning now, softly, against your skin. Almost embarrassed by the sound, but unable to stop. Like something deep in his core was unraveling, and taking all his restraint with it.

You whimpered, hips tipping upward to meet his. Not even thinking.

His mouth paused.

Then—

A low, dangerous sound hummed from deep in his chest.

Still sucking. Still grinding.

Still starving.

And all you could do was lie there, wrapped in him, under him, around him—heat pooling between your legs, neck slick with saliva and blood, pulse fluttering slow and syrup-thick in your chest.

Remmick shifted above you.

One of his hands left your waist, trembling slightly, and reached between you both. The soft click of his belt coming undone cut through the haze like a spark, followed by the scrape of denim, the rustle of fabric. He was frantic with it. Fingers shaking, breath ragged, making quick, clumsy work of his jeans and underwear.

You barely had the strength to lift your head.

The room was blurring at the edges now, every color softening, tilting. You were starting to drift. Blood loss mixing with arousal, leaving your limbs heavy and boneless beneath him.

But before you could slip too far—

He pulled away from your neck.

With a wet pop, his fangs left your skin, and you gasped, air rushing in like a forgotten gift. His face hovered above you, lips stained deep red, chin slick with drool and your blood. His eyes were wild. Too wide. Too red.

“Oh—oh God, I—I’m sorry,” he stammered, breath hitching, voice breaking apart. “Y’tasted—fuck, baby, y’tasted so—so good, I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t gonna—shit, shit, shit, I should’ve stopped—”

His hips bucked forward, and you felt it—

His cock, hot and slick, sliding against your inner thigh.

Not in you. Between.

Fucking your thighs with slow, desperate thrusts, using the wet mess of his spit and your blood and the slick that had gathered between your legs like it was enough.

He groaned. Loud. Open. Embarrassed.

“Jesus—Jesus, darlin’, I can’t—I need ya—been needin’ ya so bad, so fuckin’ bad—”

He rocked forward again, the head of his cock dragging right over the tender skin just beside your folds, catching on the sticky warmth pooling there. He moaned again, high and wrecked, forehead pressing into your shoulder as he fucked the space between your thighs like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“Y’said I could show ya,” he gasped. “Y—y’said—I didn’t mean to take so much, I didn’t mean to but ya—ya just gave it to me, ya—fuck, baby, you’re still so warm, still lettin’ me—still lettin’ me use ya—”

Your body jolted with every thrust. He was a mess of heat and movement and desperation, his hands gripping your waist like he needed to feel your pulse there, like the steady thrum of your heartbeat was the only thing tethering him to the moment.

Drool dripped from his mouth.

Mixed with the blood smeared across his chin.

Slicked the backs of your thighs as he fucked them harder.

“F-feels like I’m gonna come already,” he whimpered, voice cracking as his pace faltered. “Ain’t even in ya and I—I can’t hold it, darlin’, I can’t—been dreamin’ ‘bout this for so damn long—”

You whimpered beneath him, too lightheaded to form words, but your legs pressed tighter together, thighs flexing to hold him there.

He choked on a moan.

“Shit—shit, that’s it, th-that’s—baby, please, I need—need to come on you, need to mark ya, need—need to be inside you next, I swear I—I swear I will—”

His voice broke, and his whole body shook.

Then he came.

Hard.

With a cry that sounded more like a sob than a moan, his hips jerked once, twice, and then stilled, trembling as the first pulse of his orgasm tore through him. His cock throbbed between your thighs, hot spurts painting your skin, your belly, dripping down in long, trembling lines as he whimpered into the crook of your neck.

He didn’t stop moving.

Didn’t stop clutching you.

Rocked through it like he didn’t know how to come without collapsing—like it physically hurt to feel this good.

“Fuck—oh God, I—baby, I love ya, I love ya so fuckin’ much—” The words tumbled out of him in a wet, broken slur, lips still sticky with your blood, his tears slipping down to smear against your collarbone. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to use ya, I just—I can’t stop thinkin’ about it, about ya, about how ya taste, about how warm y’are, how ya let me—fuck, I wanna taste ya every day for the rest of my life.”

You gasped at the heat of his confession, your own body still pulsing from the memory of his fangs in your neck, from the hot slide of his cock between your thighs. Your heart was still racing. You could barely feel your legs.

But you heard him.

Every word.

“I’d never hurt ya,” he murmured, softer now, slower. “I swear, baby, I swear on everythin’ I got. I’ll be gentle next time. I’ll take my time. I just—I got so hungry, I couldn’t—God, I couldn’t think.”

He was crying.

Just a little.

Tears catching in the corners of his lashes as his cock gave one last twitch against your skin, sticky and spent. He looked wrecked. Flushed and fevered and in love. Not the polished, calm version of him the world knew.

But this one.

The one unraveling for you.

He pressed his mouth back to your throat, not biting this time—just kissing, worshipful and shaking. You felt his tongue flick out, tasting the blood drying there, humming like it soothed something broken in him.

“I wanna wake up to you smellin’ like this,” he whispered. “Every day. Want ya warm and soft and so full of me it drives me crazy. Want to drink from ya in the morning, fuck ya before bed. Keep ya too tired to run.”

Your fingers curled weakly into his hair.

And you whispered, “Then show me.”

Remmick stilled.

Then slowly—slowly—he smiled.

Something dark and bright and devout in the curl of his lips.

And you realized, in that quiet, trembling moment, with his come still dripping down your thighs and his tears wetting your skin, that you weren’t afraid anymore.

You weren’t being pulled into something terrible.

You were already there.

And you never wanted to leave.

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ highschool math (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : kimi antonelli x reader x grid

tw : fluff; chaos, a little suggestive ?

fc : his own gf lol

a/n : well, writing for the smol head for the first time! requests and feedbacks are always open !

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by norizz, pastayn and 79 others

pastanelli I AM JUST A TEENAGE DIRTBAG 🧎🏻

view comments

lordperceval i forget we have teenagers on the grid

georgey you should be studying! why are you partying ?

pastanelli i am 18!?

pastanelli i can drink ?

pastanelli i can dance ?

pastanelli i have a gf?

ollibear sorry y'all, he is just drunk

norizz we can clearly see that

chillijr he is more miserable than drunk lando

norizz excuse me !?!!?!?

chillijr he is just following your footsteps

ollibear oh btw, your girl was saying she is whooping your ass

pastanelli i do that usually

pastanelli whats this love @ yn

pastayn CAN YOU LIKE

pastayn tf youre drunk for

pastayn yup, i aint sharing my homework

pierreneedsgas they are sharing homework....

lordperceval we share rent..

max rent? mate, you own a house

lordperceval get the point yeah?

max you're old

yukipookie max, what's wrong with your profile name

max its my government name

liked by pastayn, ollibear and 123 others

pastanelli you look sec-c

view comments

georgey why are you in the girls washroom !?

pastanelli i have gf 🤤

georgey that's bloody sausage ! it makes no sense

pastanelli she told me to come to she can give me kiss

pastayn KIMI WHY WOULD YOU POST THAT

pastanelli my girls washroom privileges ?

pastayn revoked.

hackredbull that's yn hw, your work ain't that neat

pastanelli what's hers is mine

norizz you need help with the homework ?

pastanelli as if you know calculus

norizz just ask the engineers mate, they have done degrees

pastanelli wait, that's smart...

pastanelli @ pastayn I WILL GET OUR HOMEWORK DONE FROM MERCEDES, CAN I ENTER THE WASHROOM NOW

pastayn yes, but with like hot cheetos, the girls wants tariff

pastanelli this ain't America !!!

pastayn you act like the duck

ollibear did you do the second worksheet ?

pastanelli yn did it for me, i gotta drive mate

liked by norizz, ollibear, pastayn and 108 others

pastanelli SHE SAID YES !!!!

view comments

georgey for a second i thought you were getting married

carmenvroom you better up your game

lordperceval please calm your speed down antonelli

pastayn afraid that my guy has the guts to propose ?

lordperceval you did not..

lordperceval I LOVE ALEX ALRIGHT

pastanelli i want to marry my wifey 🤤🤤

pastayn soon antonelli soon

norizz i seriously need to get a girl now

pastry what about magui ?

norizz she is just for the night and occasional brunch man

georgey THERE ARE KIDS !!!!

ollibear who have fucked and are adults

norizz what !?!?!?!

lordperceval oh hell no

max i guess we know who is becoming the next dad

ollibear IT'S NOT ME!

pastanelli YOU FUCKED BEFORE ME !

ollibear WE ARE TALKING ABOUT YOU

chillijr weren't they all kids

albono how old are we again ?

albono why are they allowed kissing...

liked by pastayn, georgey, max and 186 others

pastanelli bros and no hoes

view comments

pastayn 🤢

pastayn go sleep with him

pastayn go eat with him

pastayn go kiss him

pastayn go fuck him

ollibear he already did all that with me

ollibear he was waiting to turn 18 for toto

pastayn WHAT!!??!!??

pastanelli bearman, not cool

pastanelli YOU DONT' EXPOSE OUR SEX LIFE

georgey please don't let this cause you to loose from haas

max congratulations to the new couple 👍🏻

pastayn i am asking kelly to follow this account, only she can control him

lordperceval knew these kids were doing it

pastanelli SAYS THE SERIAL CHEATER WITH CARLOS SAINZ

lordperceval IT'S NOT CHEATING, CARLOS WAS THERE BEOFRE ALEX

alexmieux so i am side chick ?

pastayn YAASSS, TEA, FIGHT

lordperceval SHUT UP KIDS

liked by pastayn, ollibear, alexmieux and 162 others

pastanelli WHO GOT THEM OBSSESSED LIKE YN ?

view comments

pastayn i love you 😍

pastayn WE WENT TO SEE JENNIE

pastayn yall rich bf perks

pastayn SPECIAL EDITION YOUR AI COUNDLT COPY

pastanelli DON'T BORE US TAKE US TO THE CHORUS

lordperceval you missed two lines -

pastayn your old ass knows this !?

lordperceval I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!

max how did you get the tickets, P really wants to see her as well

pastanelli dad duties

pastanelli i sat on the website for 2 hours 37 minutes

totohasanaccount maybe if you could put that time into practicing, you would have a podium

pastanelli TOTO FOLLOWS ME!!?!?!?

georgey TOTO!?

lordperceval oops

let me know if you want to be added or removed to the tg!

permanent tg: @isotopemylove @chair-things @justaf1girl @bibblemiluvr @blushmimi @nikfigueiredo @amz824 @ivegotparticulartaste @raizelchrysanderoctavius @freyathehuntress @piastri-fvx @sadiemack9 @ilivbullyingjeongin @cherry-piee @luvleylisen @sweate-r-weathe-r @jxnellat @loveofmylife12 @budgetcupid @lilaissa @scorpiodiosa @wondergirl101ks @nichmeddar @hoeforlifee @urfavnoirette @lily-ann-b @okcurran @miniboast @teti-menchon0604 @motorsportloverf1 @formula1-motogpfan @capricornito @star73807-blog

[kimberly-spirits13]

Damian Wayne Dating an Artist HC

Artist Credit: according to Pinterest, this is from heuksae

Warnings: not edited 🤭, None

Note: Thinking about writing a one-shot where Damian and kind of implied artist!reader meet at a gala for the Gotham Museum of Art- also trying to think about some general Damian things to write like SFW alphabet and some off handed oneshots but idk right now 😀- thinking about finding a notebook to write all of my ideas down and then just get through them one by one but I have MANY THOUGHTS LOTS OF TIME

Damian was drawn to you the moment that he met you

What really kicked it off was after you went on an entire speil about your favorite artist and why they are the cornerstone of your inspiration and ambitions, he saw the inside of your sketchbook and knew that you weren't just some amateur with a high opinion of themselves

The two of you sat for an entire hour talking about what you like to create, favorite mediums, favorite colors, the hues that you like to see, the artists that you like, what you're working on next, etc.

It started a bidaily routine of somehow meeting up somewhere and sketching together or picking each other's brains about some sort of artistic matter

He's never really had anyone that is able to give him constructive feedback when he's stuck on something, so he always turns to you when he needs another pair of eyes inspecting his work

The first time you ask him to help you fix something that you weren't sure about, his heart flipped out of his chest

He came to you because he saw you as an equal (sometimes as a superior), and he respected every thought that you so generously shared to the world from your mind

The two of you started dating after some time and hanging out more than what should be possible

one of his favorite dates is having some sort of hot drink like tea paired with Alfred's various pastries, sitting in the Manor's gardens with you, and creating (!doesn't have to just be drawing/ painting because there are many forms of art!)

He prefers the standard oil paint, watercolor, graphite, and sometimes charcol, but he's never forced himself to be married to just those mediums

He leans into realism with some obvious influence of John Singer Sargent, baroque, and hints of greater Impressionism

The two of you are often found wandering around hole in the wall art shops and carrying around a beat up sketchbook full of ideas

Damian LOVES going to the art store with you

he's not a shopaholic in any other scenario, but good weaponry and nice art supplies are his Achilles' heel

The two of you walk around the aisles of art supplies in a store like Dick Blick and spend hours talking about the things you've done with each medium, what you recommend using, what's your least favorite item, swatching whatever you can, and throwing everything into the basket

he insits on paying btw 🤚 even if it was your idea to run and grab a few things you needed to restock, he's whipping out that black card and will not hear a word about it

being endowed with the Wayne fortune, however, does not mean that he does not get excited when there's a sale running

He's the type to text you at 4am saying that he found out a certain store is running a sale that day and to be ready for him to pick you up so the two of you can go

Oil paint is expensive y'all- rich or not, that stuff makes me clutch my pearls seeing the price tag sometimes

Damian has dabbled in making his own paint with things like Gum Arabic and has a small collection of items he found walking around Gotham with an exact label of what it is and where he got it, that he uses to grind up as pigments

kind of starts to look like an old alchemist or something but that's okay

You're the only one that he'd EVER let use these pigments

Once he's perfected the formula and tested things like like fastness, he's making a custom palette for you and presenting it to you at either the most random time in the middle of the night, or as a special occasion present

Loves going to art museums with you and walking around aimlessly all day, studying how a work was done and discussing with one another what you like and dislike about something

He's def taken you to Italy or Paris on a random occasion just to go walk around the great museums there

One day Damian calls you and asks if you're free for the weekend because he wants to fly across the world to go see some museums with you- also the jet is leaving in three hours

like duh you're free

He has a seperate sketchbook that he rarely ever lets you see that is filled to the brim with sketches of you

Damian is kind of mortified when you find out but tries to play it cool

you tell him that it's extremely endearing but don't push it on him further since you can tell he's trying to sink into the void and disappear when talking about it

The two of you have totally left art supplies at each other's houses and at this point. things like brushes and pencils become a communal item

Damian would never use your things without explicit permission though

His paints are some of his most joyous and treasured possessions so he maintains that level of reverence with your collection

If you tell him you're fine with him using whatever, his stomach and heart switch places for a second and he starts to feel a faint blush spreading on his cheeks

To him, it shows how much you trust him that you're willing to lend him something so valuable to your being

Not really an art thing but more of an aesthetic preference, Damian likes tangible items over digital

He has a record player with his favorite records and a vintage film camera where he has a collection of photos displaying the various dates the two of you have been on and places that you have seen together

He keeps them in a leather envelope inside his desk drawer and reaches for them whenever he's missing you

Damian keeps one in his wallet from a time that you two were walking around the gardens one hazy spring morning when no one was at the manor. You have one of his sweatshirts on and a soft smile as you're peering off into the expanse of the gardens holding a sleeping Alfred the cat in your arms

Damian intensly listens to everything that you have to say and finds himself more and more curious about the inner workings of your mind the longer you're together

[imababblekat]

Accidental Eavesdropping?

Anon request, "Hey!!! Love your blog and your writing style, it’s amazing and so detailed!!! Can I request Bayverse TMNT Spider-man Au, where the turtles and spider-y/n are in a battle with Bepop and rocksteady. And in the last moments of the battle, spider -y/n saves the turtles but gets unmasked in the process. (They live) If you don’t want to do that idea! You can either delete this OR A moment where the turtles start talking about y/n and they don’t even realize that they’re talking TO THEM!!! This was funny to me for some reason lol 😂"

A/N: Aw thank you, anon! ;v; I went with the second prompt, btw. Leans towards Raphael x reader, but it's mentioned/hinted that the other turts also got the feels for reader. Any who's, I hope you enjoy! <3

◌(s,p) = spider persona◌

~xXx~

You're swinging over traffic, indulging in a rather quiet night despite the sounds of honking vehicles and other night life, when a sudden warm fuzzy feeling beams from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It's not your spidey sense per say, but something akin to it, all you know is that it's a good sense and you follow it with glee. It doesn't take long before the feeling is buzzing and you see the source of the feeling chilling atop a pizza parlor. Well, more like sources. You let out a small giggle, noticing that the four ninja turtle brothers seem to be in some sort of deep conversation or debate.

"Hey guy's, what's going on?!", you greeted, swinging in next to a steaming Raphael.

"Oh you know, just the daily sibling teasing while we wait for our pizza to be made.", Donnie shrugged, watching as you and Mikey did your secret handshake.

"Yeah? Let me guess. . ."

The eyes of your mask squinted as you pretended to skeptically look at all brothers before looking at the glaring gaze of Raphael next to you.

"Is Raphie suppressing his emotions again?", you chaffed.

Said turtle rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to one side as he growled.

"Great, just what I need. And don't call me that."

"Come on, I'm sure I can help! What's up this time big guy?"

Leo chuckled, gaining your attention while Raphael sent him a warning glare from behind you.

"Raph's got a crush on our friend."

At this your eyes widened, a small gasp escaping you as you looked between the two eldest brothers in excitement.

"No way! Who?!"

You're question went ignored as Raph threw his arms up, cheeks flushing a light hue of embarrassment.

"All I said was they smelled nice, and y'all chuckle heads suddenly think I've been struck by cupid or some mushy crap!"

"You complimented them, Raph.", came Leo's retort.

"I compliment people all the time!"

Everyone remained silent, giving the hot headed turtle deadpanned expressions.

"What? I do. Right (s,p)?", he asked turning to look down at you.

You merely shrugged.

"Sarcastically maybe."

Raph huffed, leaning back against the buildings ledge, you hoping up to sit next to him.

"So is anyone gonna tell me who this mysterious person is or nah? Come on people, I want the tea."

Mikey, idly spinning his nun-chucks, grinned widely.

"It's our friend, (y,n)!"

You sat rigid, mask eyes wide once more.

". . .Who now?"

"Oh you haven't met them.", Donnie waved off, checking his turtle made watch to see the remaining wait time on their order.

Raphael clicked his tongue, still slightly aggravated about his brothers earlier teasing. Meanwhile, you still sat frozen beside him, staring into the abyss with a racing heart.

"I still don't have a crush on them.", he muttered.

"You complimented them on their perfume!", Leo loudly pointed out once more.

"Why is that so weird?!"

The two started to banter once more, Mikey enjoying the show while Donnie threw in a few matter of facts to weigh in on Leo's side. You, however, felt never more thankful than in that moment that you wore a full face mask. If it wasn't for the coverage, surely the ninja brothers would see just how closely the color of your face matched Raphaels mask right now.

Raphael growled, fed up with his brothers ganging up on him and his definitely non-existent crush on you. If they were going to call him out, then he would do the same to them.

"Maybe you guys should get off my shell and jump on yours first! I ain't the only one whose been makin' googly eyes at (y,n)."

You just about fell off the side of the building, hands gripping the edge of where you sat, knuckles definitely white beneath your suit. What is happening right now, is all you could terrifyingly but blushingly think.

Leonardo and Donatello were quick to look anywhere but at Raph, trying their hardest to not blush themselves at their brother's call out.

"I seen the way you put on the macho charm, Leo, bowing extra deep and all your swooning romance book crap when they come over. And you, Donnie, sputtering and dropping shit when they try to help you with projects and their hand accidentally brushes against yours. And Mikey. . ."

All eyes focused in on the youngest of the bunch who sat ready and waiting to hear Raph's jest.

"Actually, Mikey you're not that surprising. You think anyone who gives you food is a gift from heaven."

"Hey, it's not my fault their cinnamon rolls are so good!.", Mikey pouted, bottom lip jutting out adorably.

Leonardo shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning towards you.

"What do you think, (s,p)? Are we over analyzing or are we right?"

The boys eagerly waited for your answer, for your input. Surely someone from the outside would be able to better determine the situation the brothers found themselves in. Well. . .should have been able to more like, as the response you gave was not what they were expecting.

A rushed, "Igotgo!!!", was all they got before watching you thwip away at the speed of light, leaving the turtles to look at each other confused and quizzically.

". . .Wait, so you guys don't have a crush on (y,n) too??", Mikey questioned with furrowed brows, innocently confused by how they could not.

Raphael groaned loudly as he and his brothers devilled into another childish debate on why they totally didn't have feelings for you, a familiar smell that had sparked the argument coincidentally wafting lightly into their senses upon the wind in the direction of which you swung off.

~xXx~

[mintfullyyours]

something blue

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

I'd originally written this as a multi-chap fic so this is what I have so far. Thank you so much for reading!! I really appreciate and love talking to everyone about the 141! authors here are so talented and feed me in every way that I'm grateful to have this creative outlet too.

AnYWAY!!! LMK what y'all think.

Other Simon pics for your consideration: amnesiac!simon part 1, amnesiac!simon part 2-ish, patching up exhusband!simon, ex-husband!simon part 2, to give a dog a bone (aka saving simon once),

"Baby, listen, I needed a break so I could do some... soul-searching."

You pressed your phone to your ear, weaving through the crowd as you descended the escalator toward baggage claim. "And soul-searching had to happen between your assistant's legs?"

"It was one time," James sighed, exasperation laced in his voice.

"Right. And that makes it better somehow?" You scoffed, adjusting the duffle bag slipping off your shoulder. "Listen, James, I have to go. It’s my sister's wedding week, and I’m really looking forward to explaining to my entire family why my cheating ex won’t be in attendance—for obvious reasons."

Too focused on maneuvering through the sea of travelers, you didn’t notice the hulking figure in your path until you collided—shouldering a body that felt like solid stone. A shock shot through you, something sharp and electric, like static but deeper, rippling under your skin.

"Shit—sorry," you mumbled, barely sparing the man a glance. But even in that fleeting moment, there was something about him. The sheer size of him, the weight of his gaze, the way he felt — like gravity had shifted just for him.

A grunt emanated from his lips. You shook your head and darted away from him – not wanting to deal with the locals and refocused your attention on the carousel.

“Baby, I—”

"Nope. Goodbye." You hung up mid-protest and exhaled, exasperated. The last thing you needed was James’ voice in your ear ruining the little bit of peace you had left.

The conveyor belt whirred to life and your simple black suitcase rolled into view. You grabbed it swiftly, eager to put distance between you and the airport chaos, already exhausted by the week ahead. You just needed a hot shower, a drink, and a moment to forget your disaster of a love life.

Unbeknownst to you, across the baggage claim, a towering man in a black hoodie with a camouflage print duffle bag was staring down at a suitcase identical to yours.

Simon Riley’s brow furrowed beneath his mask as he realized his luggage was missing.

At your hotel room, you finally picked up your mother’s call—something you’d been avoiding all night.

“You’re coming for... As the Brits would say afternoon tea tomorrow, right?” she asked, her voice chipper and expectant. “Your sister’s future in-laws will be there too.”

“Yeah, of course, Mom,” you mumbled, shutting the curtains to your room.

“Oh, good! Wear the pink dress I bought you then.” You shuddered at the thought of wearing something so fluffy. “And you brought your sister’s baby pictures?”

You plopped onto the floor, suitcase in front of you, already unzipping it. “Yes, they’re in my lugga—”

Your words cut off as the sight before you sank in.

This… wasn’t your luggage.

“What the fuck…” you mumbled, sifting through the unfamiliar belongings. Your mother tsked on the other end. “Language.”

“Sorry, uh—yeah. I brought them,” you said absentmindedly, but panic had already started to settle in. Your suitcase could be anywhere by now. You were so screwed.

Your fingers frantically dug into the foreign clothing, pulling out neatly folded black shirts—all black, heavy-duty material, the kind that felt expensive but built for function. Then came the cargo pants, thick straps and buckles lining the sides. You lifted a jacket that looked like it weighed more than you, feeling the sheer size of it, like it belonged to a man carved from stone.

And then—your fingers brushed against something different.

Thick. Stiff. Worn.

You pulled it out, expecting a belt or gloves—only to be met with the hollow, gaping eyes of a skull mask.

A chill ran down your spine.

The material was sturdy, molded for durability, not for show. The kind of thing that didn’t belong in civilian luggage.

A weight settled in your stomach, but before you could even process it, your fingers brushed against another.

And then another.

Your pulse spiked as you pulled them free—three, four—each identical, yet different. Some had cracks along the bone-white surface, others bore deep scuffs, dark smudges, like they’d been through hell. One of them had what looked like dried blood staining the lower jaw.

Your mind raced. What the hell kind of person needed multiple skull masks? Your throat went dry. Was he some kind of serial killer? A mercenary? A complete fucking psycho? Why the hell did you have this bag?

“Also, did James arrive with you?”

Your mother’s voice cut through the silence. Another muttered fuck under your breath. “Who? Sorry, yeah, Mom… about that.”

“Is that Sissy?” a voice chirped in the background. “Gimme, gimme — hello?”

Your sister’s voice replaced your mother’s, bright and teasing. She was always so much better at this, at life, than you. 

“Heyyy,” you said, forcing lightness into your tone, “I’m excited to see you tomorrow!”

“Ugh, same. Save me from the mom-sanity,” she giggled. “You’re bringing James, right? I’m dying to meet the guy!”

Your fingers traced the luggage lining, searching—praying—for some kind of identification. Then, finally, you found it. A small leather name tag, embossed with a name and phone number.

Without thinking, without breathing, you word-vomited the first name you saw. “Did I say James? Because I meant… Simon.”

A pause. Well you were committed to the bit now. 

“...Simon Riley.”

The name sat heavy in the air, and your fingers tightened around the mask still in your lap.

You didn’t know who Simon Riley was. But for now that didn’t matter. The name sat heavy between you and your sister, stretching the air thin. Your sister broke the silence first, “Okay… I guess I have time to change the seating card but really sissy, you have to tell me these things sooner. And Simon's your boyfriend, right?”

She asked and then, a vibration.

Your head snapped to your phone screen.

UNKNOWN CALLER.

You chose to ignore it, "Yes, I'm with Simon. Been almost a year now." The lie came easily because what else could you have said?

Then another vibration.

This time, a text.

A single message.

“Wrong bag, love. But you already knew that.”

A chill shot down your spine with skull masks staring up at you. You gulped and hung up the phone after you reassured your sister you'd be there tomorrow. This was going to be a long night.

Now you and Simon Riley had never met before. Not properly, anyway.

The first time he knew you existed was because of a simple mix-up at the baggage claim. Nothing special. Nothing deliberate. Just a wrong bag taken by the wrong person at the worst possible time.

And yet—

The moment he unzipped your suitcase, his entire world tilted.

Your scent was the first thing that hit him. Something warm, something sweet. Not perfume—no, it was deeper than that. Skin and shampoo and you. He could smell it on the soft sweater tucked inside, the delicate pink lace of something he shouldn’t be touching, but he does anyway.

Then, there was the red floor-length dress.

The dress that, for some fucking reason, he couldn't stop staring at.

His fingers flexed around the fabric, his mind already playing tricks on him—How would it fit? Would it hug her just right? Would it be easy to pull up, to push aside—

His jaw clenched.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

But then there were the other things—small, delicate things that told him more about you than a conversation ever could. The book tucked into the side pocket. The neatly folded socks. The half-used lipstick that made his pulse tick in his throat.

What would that color look like staining the skin around his cock?

And that was when he knew.

Knew he had to see you.

He thanked the Universe for the handy contact information on your luggage tag and reached for his phone.

It wasn't about the luggage anymore.

It was about you.

Tag list

@ebodebo @meheheasasa @thegirlintheshadows101 @galactict3a @star-buck-barnes @synamonthy @vylaris @vvenus-child @negomisan @heretoreadanddrinktea @mocalocha @icommitwarcrimes @readingcatinacorner @just-lilita @blackhawkfanatic @kristalhi

[tinydefector]

Cybertronian Drinks and Food

So wanted to try and make a little interactive thing for y'all to send in as request. I'm sure you guys have seen this piece I've made for some of the Energon and Minerals the Transformers consume. Send in to my ask box

So I'm giving you guys the power to send in different things from this list to be made into energon drink art. Or edibles of a sort.

Energon and Fuels

Dark Energon

Synthetic Energon

Tox-En

Red Energon

engex

High grade

Energon wine

Energon Z

Natural Energon

Pure energon

Biofuel

super energon

Energon rod

EnerGULP

Diesel

unleaded petrol

95-octane

E10

E85 - flex-fuel

Jet A and Jet A1 Jet B

JET-A, JP5, JP8

LH2/LOX

RP-1/LOX

kerosene

LSFO

Oil

Minerals, Crystal's and Chemicals    

Petroleum

Hydrogen

Copper

Aluminium

Titanium

Lead

Tin

Nickel

Gold

Zinc

Magnesium

Cobalt

Tungsten

Platinum

Chromium

Silver

Manganese

Sodium

Beryllium

Vanadium

Molybdenum

Palladium

Uranium

Zirconium

Bismuth

Cadmium

Mercury

Hafnium

Lanthanum

Niobium

Rhodium

Scandium

Tantalum

Yttrium

Cerium

Plutonium

Lithium

Neptunium

Meitnerium

Seaborgium

Dubnium

Francium

Gallium

Indium

Potassium

Rubidium

Strontium

Thallium

Barium

Calcium

Cesium

Calcite

Pyrite

Copper

Quartz

Benitoite

Diamond

Fluorite

Galena

Garnet

Gold

Oxide

Sulfides

Gypsum

Halite

Phosphates

Sulfates

Carbonates

Iron

__________

Let me know if you would like to be added to tag list (tagged for every fic)

Taglist

@angelxcvxc

@saturnhas82moons

@kgonbeiden

@murkyponds

@autobot79

@buddee

@bubblyjoonjoon

@chaihena

@pyreemo

@lovenotcomputed

@mskenway97

@delectableworm

@cheesecaketyrant

@ladyofnegativity

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@stellasfallow

@coffee-or-hot-cocoa

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@pupap123

@dannyaleksis

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@wosemoose1

[letshaikyuu]

pretty setter squad (kageyama, akaashi, oikawa) with their s/o post-practice

a/n: lol hello, I honestly just come here when I am knees deep in uni shit and I should be writing a paper rn but I am writing this heh. hope you all are happy and healthy, and wishing you a lovely month of May soon!

warning: oh definitely some grammar mistakes so i apologize if that triggers you :3

🎀────────────🎀

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

y'all know our boy is dead tired after practice and needed much persuading to finish practice, let alone come home. he only wishes to jump in the shower, eat a hearty meal, lay down in bed, and not move. most of the time he does forget to text you once he's back home, but it's mostly because he's dead tired and wants to chill. he'd be super confused and apologetic at the same time if you were disappointed and/or anxious if he didn't text you that he was home.

if you two don't live together, I imagine him finishing his post-practice routines and then laying down in bed with his washed hair wetting the pillow while he waits for you to video call him. I don't think he'd be the one to initiate a conversation first, especially when he is one minute away from falling asleep, but he does admit that hearing your voice before bed is the best thing ever. while on call, you would do most of the talking, while he nods and occasionally chuckles in amusement, until ultimately dozing off while on call. make sure to take a lot of screenshots of that face because he can either have the most peaceful look on his face and you just have to have that angelic face in your gallery; or he can have the most ridiculous type of face on, with a lil drool, some snoring happening...

if you two do live together, you'd be greeted with a sweaty body just dropping its total weight on you because he's just so tired and also wants to annoy you with him being all sweaty and smelly on you. it's difficult to actually get him to move, especially because he gets rather comfortable in such a position. when you finally get him off, he goes off to shower and spends so much time there you're pretty sure he falls asleep there. he asks you to prepare a hot cup of milk for him once he gets out. you'd get such a gentle kiss on your cheek or lips because he is already dozing off and it'd be such an adorable sight, especially with his freshly washed and dried hair tickling the softness of your cheek and the smell of his body wash enveloping the both of you.

ngl, he would easily fall asleep without you in bed because he's just dead tired lol

AKAASHI KEIJI

he never forgets to call and/or text you once he's done and out of the gym because he knows you'd be worried otherwise. if you live together, he makes sure to ask you if you need anything from the convenience store and also asks you to prepare a hot cup of tea for him (for the two of you if you are also a tea drinker). even if you say you don't need anything from the store, he stops by and buys your favorite snacks and some of his own. i do think his favorite thing to do post-practice is to sit down on the couch with you and talk about your day. i do headcanon him to have a sweet tooth, so he is enjoying that cup of tea with some crackers or cookies and definitely enjoys hearing some of your tea ngl.

even though he is super tired, he cannot fall asleep without you beside him. he finds it interesting how dependent he has become on you, especially if you have moved in together recently. if he is not super tired, he'd move to the bed with a book by his side and read until you're finished with your evening routine and lie down. if he is exhausted, then he forgoes the book, he then lays down and toys with your pillowcase so he doesn't fall asleep. if you take long he definitely closes his eyes and then jolts awake once you get in bed, but he only pulls you closer, kisses you, and falls asleep.

akaashi who does not live with you is fairly similar. while walking back to his house, he'd call you and chat with you until he arrives. you'd end the call while he finishes his shower (maybe not) and dinner, and he'd call you right back once he's done. he then sits down in bed with a cup of tea and a cookie or two on his bedside table, his phone in an active call with you. he may be tired but makes sure to listen to you intently, and when he is almost falling asleep, he apologizes for not paying more attention to you (because he's such a sweetheart like that ngl) and then gives you one of those air kisses before turning around and ultimately falling asleep.

OIKAWA TOORU

he ALWAYS calls you when he's done with practice because this guy has tea to spill from the day. he is so enthusiastic and vibrant that you would think he went out for a cup of coffee and not coming back from volleyball practice. legend says (aka iwaizumi) that he is a part of the Walking Dead in the locker room but always puts on the best version of himself when you're around. when he's finally at the front of his house, he makes sure to be as quiet as possible so he doesn't wake his family up and then says he'll call you once he's in bed.

now, Oikawa does sometimes fall asleep without showering or anything which is definitely a shocking statement for someone as tidy and clean as Oikawa, I can easily imagine him just face-planting on his bed and saying he'd get up in 5 minutes and just falling asleep lol. however, that's a rare occasion and also he'd wake up once you text/call him anyway. you will be on a video call while he's doing his skincare routine because he needs to show you that soft-ass skin and all his products.

oikawa who lives with you is very much needy once he's back home. he wants a hug as soon as he's home because he misses you so much and he'd like to have dinner together with you. i don't think he's the best cook out there, but he knows how to prepare some bomb-ass meals for pre-/post-workouts. of course, if you're not up for that he can stomach a cup of ramen. the night is not complete without him spilling the tea on every mishap that happened during practice and also inquiring about your day. he falls asleep on the couch and spills whatever food he's holding in his hands. this leads to him startling awake and screaming at the mess he's made...it's never a dull moment with this guy.

🎀────────────🎀

[codtrashsammy]

oh no i'm having more soft Ghoap thoughts

okokko this is more of a little ficlet thing but it makes my lil heart happy so enjoy <3

also y'all i do not be editing these. at all. I just be throwin shit down on paper and making my brain produce dopamine.

if you all have any requests though pls feel free to drop into my ask box <3 I will gladly write whatever. I'm sure i'll come up with rules eventually, but rn I'm pretty open-minded and can't think of much I would refuse <3

You're waltzing around your apartment, half asleep but with a tired smile on your face. Johnny comes back today, after all, and of course that means Simon will be coming too! You've been dating Johnny exclusively for a few months now. Sure, sometimes Simon will hold your hand, or pull you in for a hug. And sure, sometimes Simon sits with you in the early mornings on the balcony while you drink a warm drink, and he smokes a cigarette- looking at you with rapt attention and soft eyes, hanging onto every word you say. Okay, and maybe he calls you 'love' and 'darling' but he's British, so it's probably normal. But it's entirely platonic- you're at least 78% sure, and plus only Johnny had asked you out- so you have to stay loyal to him even if you do feel something for the bigger brute.

But! You need to get your ass into gear and make your boys- boy something to eat- knowing damn well they- he will be hungry when they- ah fuck it. You're going to cook them a good ass meal to enjoy- knowing they will enjoy it after a month of MRE's and shitty mess hall food (Johnny's words). So you do. You work away in the kitchen- though the clock reads barely past 2AM, knowing they should arrive around 3AM at this point. You've timed it perfectly, so by the time you set everything out on the kitchen island, still steaming and hot, you hear the familiar playful rapt at your door.

ba ba baba ba

With a grin you glance over the selection of food first- mashed potatoes, green beans, fried pork chops, and freshly made black tea- you make your way over to the door and open it with a grin. "'m glad you're back!" You bout out happily, sending both men a bright grin despite your slightly tired eyes along with theirs. "Missed ye, bonnie," Johnny is quick to just waltz right on in, arms wrapping around you and lifting you up slightly with one hand, his other hand occupied carrying his duffel bag.

A snort of amusement leaves your lips as you hug him back, pressing a kiss to his lips before batting at him to put you down- though he doesn't hesitate once he notices the smell in the house. "Oooh, what's this, bonnie?" Johnny hums out, dropping his bag somewhere in the living room as he makes his way to the kitchen.

A soft laugh leaves your lips at his reaction, but you don't bother to answer him as you turn your attention to Simon, whose closing the door behind him. He's wearing his usual little black medical mask- the one he wears in place of the balaclava when he's off duty.

So imagine your utter shock and dumb fuck surprise when he pulls the thing down, steps forward, places a gentle hand on your cheek and kisses you. "Missed ya, too, love," Simon quips easily, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before simply dropping his bag and just walking right into the kitchen.

Sir, I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?! It's a thought, no words leave your lips as your cheeks heat up.

Oh no, you just cheated on your boyfriend- in the same house with him- with his best friend.

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU DO NOW?!

Apparently, nothing but walk into the kitchen with your boys, watching as the two of them are already seated with stacked plates in front of them. You blink blankly at the scene.

You hesitate before taking a seat, sitting across from Johnny and resting your hands on the table, looking between the two of them as they converse casually.

"Take such good care o' us, bonnie, dunnae ken what I did to deserve ya," Johnny quips, looking at you with bright blue eyes and a genuinely content smile on his face between shoveling bites of food.

"Stopped bein' a bloody prick fer more than two seconds," Simon says, voice low and monotone yet somehow tinged with amusement.

You blink again. Huh "You kissed me?" You say it as a statement, but it comes out as a question as you look at Simon, ignoring their banter even though it makes you want to snort in amusement. You're too dumbfounded and bewildered right now to handle this situation. "Uh huh." Simon responds, flatly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world as he takes a bite of mashed potatoes. Johnny looks between the two of you, a slow smirk pulling at his lips, "LT, you sly dog," Johnny murmurs with clear amusement, elbowing the bigger man in the side playfully. You sputter for a moment, looking back over at Johnny, "A-and you're just- okay with that?!" You ask in utter confusion, bewildered but not exactly disappointed at the scene.

So you didn't cheat on your boyfriend with his best friend? Johnny looks at you and this time he blinks in confusion before turning his head and grabbing Simon's jaw, pulling him close and planting a kiss on Simon's lips, causing Simon to grunt in annoyance- only because he was still eating.

Johnny turns back to you with a shrug, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "Even?" You stare at the scene with heated cheeks before throwing your hands up in defeat, "...Even." You relent with a huff. ....can't cheat on your boyfriend with your other boyfriend who is also your boyfriends boyfriend you suppose.

[bluesidez]

Bless Your Heart | 1. HELLO, MY OLD FRIEND

You're nervous, wary of your new environment, but you're excited to take on the challenge of becoming a ranch hand. Meeting the O'Hara brothers is sure to stray you one way or another.

tread lightly ⋆⋆⋆ humor, Miguel is...difficult, mentions of food, animals, animal manure, I think that's it!

word count ⋆⋆⋆ 5.6k (shoutout to the beta, DA WIFE!! @slushycoookie 💚)

note on the fridge ⋆⋆⋆ Special shoutouts to @opaloharas @monarchberrysblog @miguelhugger2099 @hysterical-reblogging as well as the Miggy server for guiding me with this story! It would still be in the drafts without y'all. Huge thanks to my beta Cookie! 🥺 I can't begin to say how much you've helped me. It would literally take up 20+ pages. JUST KNOW! THAT YOU ROCK!

last | next ℧ masrterlist ℧ AO3

JULY

You didn’t know you’d be back in the south so soon. A part of you wanted to laugh at yourself for crawling back to the place that you swore you’d leave behind.

Growing up here can be rewarding, but the itch to escape the fear that others placed on the outside world to make your own decisions rushed through your body every year.

So, you did just that.

You broke free of the grasps of superstitious aunts, traditional geezers, and terrified grandparents. You spread your wings to the city. You traveled the world. You got to know family that knew the ins-and-outs of various transportation systems better than you ever could.

And yet in those small, almost insignificant, moments, you found yourself yearning for the South.

You missed the way the air smelt before it rained. The expanse of land as far as the eye could see. The warmth of your closest family who never quite understood your ambitions, but urged you to chase after them anyway. The taste of grease and hot food, no one else in the world could match those down-to-earth flavors.

You missed home.

Subconsciously, you found the South in the things you did.

In the way you added packets of sugar to any tea you had because apparently no one knows what sweet tea is.

In the way you called people “ma’am” and “sir” when you weren’t really thinking about it.

In the way you had a little saying for every circumstance.

In the way you suddenly started to crave butter pecan ice cream as if you were in your 40s.

Still, home didn’t exactly mean back under your parents’ roof. You didn’t miss home that much, enough to have a curfew at your big age. You figured that if you were going to move back, it would be to an area where you could at least catch the nearest flight to some far off land.

The advertisement to be a ranch hand was a bit obscure, but the doodle of the big family on the corner of it was enough to sell it to you. It probably wasn’t the best idea to pack everything up so soon, but the pay was so unbelievable that you decided to test fate.

Your own family would have a heart attack. First, you were going to be almost in the middle of nowhere and second, you were going to be doing hard labor. Definitely not the little girl they watched grow up anymore.

It all felt surreal.

The sun was beating down on your legs through the windshield of a taxi-van. No tint was a match for this heat. You could hear your suitcases and bags rattling in the back with the one box of things you just couldn’t sell. You weren’t throwing away pots and pans, and no one wanted to buy your old dragonfly lamp.

The driver was a nice old man who spoke to you like you were a long lost relative, but he was starting to get way too quiet for your liking, and, like an idiot, you didn’t put the address in your phone. The service was spotty and all you could see was miles and miles of tall trees and power lines.

You leaned back and hugged your purse close to your body, letting out a quiet huff.

“You nervous?” the man asks.

You panned your eyes from a “Honey For Sale” sign to look at the rearview mirror.

“A little. But, you gotta jump in with both feet, you know?”

Such a light answer for what could be a walk right into your untimely disappearance.

Or budding success. You weren’t sure yet.

“That’s right. Wish I could get you to say that to my daughter. All she wanna do is lay around and watch TV all day.”

“Well,” your heart picks up as he takes a turn. The land was huge, red gates covering acres of green land and a few buildings spread across it. “I’m sure she has her reasons. Just give her time.”

He laughed as he pulled up to the gate, “Ain’t that much time in the world. Do you need me to drive further?”

“No, right here is fine, I’ll just drag everything through.”

You were quick to get out and get your things, body running on adrenaline. The cash you handed him was some of the last bit you had left. You're tense, wary of the new environment, but more than anything, you were excited for something new.

“Sure you don’t want me to drive a little closer? Those houses are far.”

“I think here is good. Don’t want to startle anybody.”

“Alright,” he slams the trunk and gets back to the driver’s seat. “You be safe now.”

With a quiet thanks and a wave, you watch his van back out of the rocky path. The dust under the tires makes you cough.

Roughed up combat boots scratch against the rocks in the path as you move to open the gate. It creaks loudly as you push past and the wooden sign burned with an H-marked spider jolts against it.

The person you were contacting said to just come on in once you got here. No number to call, no person to look for, no dress code.

Out in the open, you could hear cows talking to each other and birds singing their tunes. The wheels of your suitcase against the trail become the back beat of their song.

The land was truly beautiful, the few homes standing tall and proud against the plains. A small pond was at your right, ducks and mosquitoes floating over the top.

Following the path, you walked until you reached the first person you could find, the blurry image of reds, blues, and browns coming to form him.

A tall glass of water, taller than any other man you’ve ever met. You were sure if he ever fell off of a horse, it would be a hard flight to the ground.

The hair peeking from under his hat was as brown and curly as the chocolate shavings you’d see on grocery store cakes. The skin you could see was a rich caramel, hidden in the shade of dark felt.

You scanned the expanse of his back, wondering how he worked in clothes that made you feel hot just looking at them. Even with the shadow of the rim, sweat was still beating down his neck and soaking up the collar of his plaid button down.

A thick belt was snug around his waist and his jeans were mighty tight. Dirt caked the hem of them and walking your eyes up, every white stitch was accounted for. A name was on his back pocket, but it was too thin, too scrambled to see.

Dragging a hefty suitcase across the rocky path, you got closer to him, and with an extended hand and a polite smile, you introduce yourself.

“You needed a ranch hand?”

He turns his head to the side, barely acknowledging you, and turns back with a grumble, “Of course, this is the person I end up with.”

Your brows furrow, “What was that?”

“Nothing. You can put your stuff in the guest house. Join me at the barn in five minutes.”

“Do you have a name or were you never taught any manners?”

He stopped fiddling with the broken buckle of a saddle and turned completely towards you, “You talk back to all your bosses on the first day?”

Thick eyebrows lowered as he squinted at you and your breath hitched. If his hair was chocolate shavings, then his eyes were the mocha cake topped with swirls of coffee icing.

No man needed eyelashes that pretty nor lips that perfect and full. His arms were crossed as he stood there, body barely contained in his clothes. No man deserved to be that big with a striking face to match.

It was dangerous.

“Most bosses give me their names,” you drop your stretched hand, and the air lulls between you two. The purse across your body felt like it was digging in your skin. “Or at least a greeting.”

“Well, you’ll learn pretty quickly that I’m not most bosses.”

You bite your tongue, watching as he goes back to what he’s doing. That southern drawl in his voice was lingering in your mind as you realized that he truly meant what he said.

There was no proper introduction, no tour, no beginner’s manual.

Breathing deep you try again, “Can you point me in the right direction?”

His head flicks to the right, stance unmoving like a pillar. The three houses were all that were left and the barn was in another direction.

Gripping the handle again, you made your way back to the trail.

With a hand over your eyes to block the sun, you wonder if the guy from earlier would care if you passed out in the middle of the road. The distance between the houses and the animals feels further than it needed to be.

“Hey, hey, hey! Where ya heading?”

You slow your pace, unsure if the man sitting on a swinging bench was talking to you or someone else.

“Well, don’t just stand there. C’mon!” he waves over with the excitement of a little kid. “I don’t bite.”

Getting closer, the guy grunts as he stands and wipes his hands on his jeans. He’s just as tall as the first man you met, but he looks lighter, happier.

He smiles as you pull your bag to the porch, brown lips stretching to show pretty teeth. He tips his felt hat off, and when he steps into the light, the sun dances across his eyes, bits of brown tapping along a hazel base.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he sticks out a hand and places his hat back, something you expected the first man to do. “I’m Gabriel O’Hara. Welcome to The Huntsman Farms! ‘Where the stallions roam free.’”

You shake his hand with no hesitation, noting the strength in his grip, the roughness of his fingertips, “Thank you, I’m glad to be here. Although, I’m not sure if your buddy was informed?”

Gabriel pauses, then looks over to the paddock with a grimace, “Uh, he’s not too fond of visitors. A little bit of a stick in the mud. Sorry about that. I promise he’s all hat and no cattle. Figuratively.”

“That hat is pretty tall, then. He did mention a guest house in this general direction.”

“And to that guest house, I will guide you.”

He grabs your case and lifts it up with ease, turning to go behind one of the most stark-white houses you’ve ever seen.

There was a slight limp in his stride, noticeable enough for you to want to grab everything back, but watching him walk in front of you was entrancing.

Another pair of thighs and calves that fill denim cuts just before they make room to cover his boots. The brown belt hugged his waist nicely and the expanse of his back rooted itself in his t-shirt.

Sweat was building on your scalp.

Were all the men on this farm that built?

“So, is it your first time in this neck of the woods?”

You blink, “In Texas?”

“In the countryside, hun.”

“Oh, no! Born and raised in the South. I have plenty of family that lived in the country. I wouldn’t call myself a connoisseur of all things country, though.”

“As long as you can stand the heat, I think you’ll be alright. Had a guy sign up for the job and he passed out on the first day. Poor thing couldn’t tell a calf from a kid.”

“Well, Mr. O’Hara, I can assure you that I know that much. And a little heat never hurt anybody.”

“Glad to hear it,” he laughs. “And please, call me Gabriel. It’s a heap of O’hara’s on this land alone. Gotta keep track.”

You hum in understanding, thinking back to the family name on the advertisement.

Looking to the backyard next to the path, you notice a wooden playset with hot pink spray paint fading away to green on the slide. There’s a giant tree with a lone tire swing and a red wagon piled with lantanas and pink ladies under it.

The guest house matches the atmosphere of the playful area: pale teal wood with a chocolate brown door and window shutters. Three rocky steps lead to a welcome mat shaped like a cloud, and a few shrubs run along the edge of the house.

Gabriel steps on the stones, body stiff as he places your suitcase right by the door.

“Are you the owner?” you find yourself asking, steering your mind away from its earlier spiral.

He straightens up as he unlocks the door, grin prominent even though he wasn’t facing you.

“You could say that. I pride myself on taking care of the critters when I can,” the door creaks and he finally uses the handle of your bag to pull it in. “No unhappy chickens. No angry bulls. Unless I’m on one.”

“You’re a bull rider? Are you pulling my leg, Gabriel?”

“Oh, I wish someone was pulling mine. This last sucker got me good. I didn’t stretch that well before I got on ‘em and my bullfighters were scattered. Next thing I know, I’m in the air with three seconds left and my fingers slipping from the rope. Then, boom! Landed on the gate with one ankle in between the bars and a pull so deep, I’m on fire.”

Gritting your teeth and breathing in air through the gaps, your muscles tense like you were there.

“God, are you ok?”

“Well, you’re still staring at this pretty face, ain’t you?”

A laugh you didn’t know you had in you finds its way out. Gabriel’s smile grows, shining just under the rim of his hat. He switched the light on as he joined you, hands on his hips as he looked around the room.

It was cozy and compact with the kitchen mere steps away from the living room you walked into. Sunlight coated the room with stripes through the barely open blinds and a “Home Is Where The Heart Is” sign stood out on the wall next to the entrance.

The colors were similar to the exterior, blues and browns with a splash of white.

“I do hope you can come to love it here. I know it’s not much, but whatever you need, I’ll do what I can to help you out.”

“Thank you so much. This was actually a lot more than I was expecting, honestly. The ad was a little ambiguous.”

“What’s life without a little fun?”

“A boring one according to you. I do have more stuff all the way back at the gate that I should get to before it’s seen as garbage.”

“Oh, you stop that,” Gabriel says, blocking your exit. “I’ll get my guys to bring it in later. You go ahead and get settled and I’ll check out your ACs before I leave you. You’ll need it.”

He stomped his shoes a bit then switched on the living room box. The stuffiness of the air lifted and the cool breeze and hum of the AC unit took over. He turns the corner and you open the blinds next to the couch, opening up the room even more.

Ten seconds and a blink later you hear a scream so high, you think one of the goats may have found its way into the home.

Running after the sound, you park behind Gabriel to see what caused the commotion.

In the bedroom with the light skirting around the curtains stood a tall creature with a head of flying fur. It had antennas that moved at a steady rhythm and a bend that felt irregular, strange to the eye.

Gabriel was leaning on the doorway, hands slapping against the wallpaper with short breath.

When he flipped the lights you gasp as the biggest, sleekest cat you’ve ever seen stands on its hind legs and kneads the air. Its eyes are a bright green, standing out against its jet-black fur as it stares at you unamused.

“Gabbie!” Gabriel shouts, moving to bend and breathe a sigh of relief. “Baby girl, don’t do that. You know my heart can’t take it.”

A little girl ducks out from behind the cat’s head with a toothy smile and a pocket of giggles in her chest. She lets her cat down who only weaves between her legs, nearly knocking her over. Her hair is wild, thick dark brown fly-aways escaping what you think is a ponytail.

“Daddy said when you say that, it only means that you’re actually scared!”

“Your daddy don’t know whether to scratch his watch or check his ass. Don’t listen to him.”

“Are you here to help on the farm?” she asks you.

“Why yes I am-”

“Baby girl, you know that’s not how you greet people. Get it right,” Gabriel chides.

She huffs, hair bouncing as she looks down at her feet. Her hands go behind her back, embarrassed.

“‘M sorry, ma’am,” she mumbles, thick eyebrows furrowed.

Her cat sits in front of her and meows low, body stretching up to place its paws on her shoulders. It started to rub against her face, purring loud and content.

Your heart tugged at the scene. It reminded you of yourself, getting fussed at for the smallest things.

Walking next to her, you squat to match her level.

“It’s ok, sweetie. You didn’t mean me any harm,” you place your hands in your lap as you look at her.

Her cheeks are full and her eyelashes are long. There’s a bandaid on her chin and from here you can see that her hair is stretched and curly, barely contained in a scrunchie trying to hold it all together. If she hadn’t confirmed it already, you would think she’s Gabriel’s daughter, a mole under her bottom lip matching the one on his jaw, but those eyebrows were reminiscent of the man from before.

“Tell you what, I’ll tell you my name, and you can tell me you and your kitty’s names. Deal?”

“Deal!”

You learn that her name is Gabriella and her cat is a Maine Coon named Jade, like the Bratz doll.

“Because his eyes are green like her’s! And he’s a cool cat. Did you know that ‘Kool Kat’ is Jade’s nickname?”

“I wouldn’t be a girl with a passion for fashion if I didn’t.”

She giggles, sienna eyes sparkling as she claps her hands.

“Want to see my dolls? We can play dress-up. And have a party! Oh, oh! I have tiaras for me and my cats. You can borrow one!”

“Gabbie.”

“I can push you on the swing and introduce you to the baby cows and ride the four-wheeler.”

“Baby girl.”

“And we can do parties! My birthday already passed, though. I’m 8! How old are you?”

“Gabriella,” Gabriel says louder. His hands are on his hips as he gives her a knowing look. “I know you hear me calling you. And you never ask a lady her age. That’s rude, baby girl.”

She pouts again and nods, picking up her cat from under its armpits. Jade sticks his tongue out and starts kneading once more.

“Now go run off and play. She needs to start her work, ok? If you do right, maybe she’ll play with you later.”

“Ok, Tío.”

Gabriel turns and leaves the room but before Gabriella can get too far, you tap her shoulder and urge her back with a finger. You cup your hands over your mouth and that glow is back in her eyes.

“28,” you whisper in her ear.

She leans back and smiles against the top of her cat’s head.

“You really are a princess,” she whispers back. She shuffles off before Gabriel can fuss again and you follow.

He guides her through the entryway, watching through the screen door as she and Jade run back to the main house.

“Sorry about that. I think she snuck in here while we were getting it ready.”

“It’s fine. She’s a cutie pie. I don’t mind at all.”

“Yeah, that she is,” he sighed. “One look at that face and you’re a goner.”

Looking at him, you could tell that those words were accurate. He couldn’t even hold his authority for too long.

“Did Miguel have something for you to do? I wanted to get Gabbie out of your hair, but there’s no telling what he has planned. He’s been running all over the ranch like a chicken with his head cut off.”

“Who?”

Gabriel snickered and looked to the side.

“I know it’s hot but don’t go forgetting stuff on me so soon, honey.”

“No, I, I really don’t know who Miguel is. Was that the first man I saw? Tall? Long hair? Wouldn’t look me in the eye?”

Gabriel’s head dipped as he slumped against the door.

“O’Hara’s. A line full of knuckleheads, I tell you,” he mumbles. “C’mon.”

“Even without a watch, I’m sure that you know it’s been more than five minutes.”

You rub a wrist over your temple, swiping away sweat. Gabriel clicks his teeth next to you.

“Look, if this is how you’re going to act with basic tasks, you won’t make it far here.”

“Really?” Gabriel answers for you.

Miguel turns, letting go of the stall he was unlocking.

“Thought you had business to tend to.”

“And I expected you to show some respect, so I guess we’re both up the creek without a paddle.”

“What do you want, Gabriel?”

“For starters, you should apologize to this lovely woman.”

“Apologize for what?”

“For being a jackass. We finally get some help around here and you can’t even muster up a smile on that square head of yours.”

“The same square head that your mama blessed you with?”

“The same one that I’m about to knock up against the barrels if you don’t quit it.”

Miguel smirked and started to roll up his sleeves. Your eyes zero in on his thick, sturdy arms decorated with hair. His muscles flex as his fingers fiddle with a button on his cuff.

“I’d like to see you try. You can barely stand straight right now.”

Gabriel takes his hat off and places it over a lasso hook, then cracks his neck. Your stomach lurches and you can’t tell if it’s because your brain has deluded you into thinking that they’re fighting over you, or if you’re actually nervous about two men well over six feet about to roll around in dirt.

As Miguel loses his hat and his hair falls to frame his face, you think the first option sounds more pleasing.

You back up as quietly as you can, the two of them shouting curses at each other so loudly that they don’t even notice your movements.

“I can’t believe you want this nice lady to see you on your ass.”

“And I can’t believe you still don’t know when to mind your own.”

“Your own is my own,” Gabriel bites back.

A crunch behind you grabs your attention.

Jade looks up at you, one eye scrunched as he munches on a bug. A tiny, sparkly pink cowboy hat adorns his head. Looking further, Gabriella looks up at you with big brown eyes.

The boys were only getting louder.

“Excuse me,” you interrupt them. “As much as this is entertaining me, little ears are listening.”

You point to the entrance where Gabriella is doing the worst job of hiding. Her fingers stand out against the white opening and Jade’s tail stands tall and curved. He makes a stunted meow as the attention falls on him.

In a heartbeat, their demeanors change. Balled up fists loosen and shirts unravel. They both drop to the ground, Gabriel struggling, and beckon her closer.

For once, Miguel looks softer, at ease.

“Hey, sunshine,”

Gabriella walks fast to get to him, hands fiddling together. Once she’s in his arms, he cradles her, kissing her cheek softly.

“Were you and Tío Gabri fighting?”

“No, no baby girl. We weren’t fighting.”

“Yeah, we were just talking,” Gabriel agrees, smoothing back her hair that shoots right back up afterward. “Just some brotherly love, is all.”

“Then why is your shirt all messed up?”

She points to Gabriel’s stretched collar and picks at a loose button on Miguel’s.

“One of the horses might have gotten a hold of it.”

“Yeah, Tío’s right, Bubba was a little late with feeding time today. Magenta might have gotten hungry.”

Gabriella twists her lip.

“Tío, you know Magenta doesn’t like boys! What if she ate you up?”

Gabriel laughs before he can even think of a response, eyes warm as he takes in the seriousness of his niece’s face. With her eyebrows pinched like that, she was the spitting image of her father, scowl and all.

“Well, thank God you’re here to rescue me. Your daddy was no help at all.”

“If Magenta can’t stand you, what makes you think she wants to see me?”

Gabriel sneered at Miguel who only shrugged back.

“What were you hiding for anyway, Gabbie? I thought I told you to go play.”

She stares at her fingers, chin tucked away into her chest. Miguel rubs her arm, silently encouraging her, while Gabriel tilts his head and waits.

“I,” her eyes glance at you then back down. “I just wanted to see her again.”

When Gabriella says your name, it’s like everything sparkles around her. Like there’s bubbles and glitter in the air.

Miguel rolled your name on his tongue. He took you in and looked at you with more than just disdain underlining his skin.

Getting up without letting his daughter go, then helping Gabriel off the ground, he acknowledges you.

“Can you ride a horse?”

Your tongue slides over your teeth in your mouth. It’s not missed on you the way he watches you shift your weight, eyes calculating and stern.

“No. No, I can’t.”

Miguel looks at Gabriel out of the corner of his eye.

“That’s completely fine. Not nothing none of us can’t teach you,” Gabriel supplies.

“I could teach you!” Gabriella perks up, body jerking in her father’s hold, but his body remains still.

You smile at her in thanks as Gabriel continues.

“Have you ever milked a cow? A goat?”

“Once,” Gabriel looks hopeful and Miguel’s eyebrow raises. “At a museum. It was a simulation.”

“Hear that Gabri? They’re doing simulations for cows now.”

“Can you,” Gabriel ignored his brother completely, “plant something in the soil?”

“Absolutely. My mama has a garden and I planted things with my grandma before.”

Gabriel lights up as he turns and hits Miguel on the shoulder with glee.

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your last plant died. Nor that the last time you were helping your grandma was when you were three years old and completely in her way.

“So you can operate a shovel?”

“Yes, I can do that much.”

“Great,” Miguel says. “I know the perfect task for you.”

Excited, you thought nothing of the calmness in Miguel’s voice. His tone and drawl mixed with Gabriel’s sweetness were like a lullaby sinking you slowly to the ground.

Right about now, you’d say the wrong ground got a hold of you.

Grunting, you stick a scoop shovel under the pile of shit in the corner of the stall.

It was gunky and rancid. For such a tiny area, there was so much of it piled high. You mourned the complete loss of your trusty shoes as you practically slid over it to gather up more.

“You know, cow manure is actually something that we farmers just can’t get enough of,” Gabriel stands by what you deemed the shit-truck. “It helps us so much. Keeps those crops coming.”

“So why isn’t said Farmer One and Two shoveling it with me?”

Surprisingly, nothing splashes out with the way you bang your shovel against the truck bedding.

Miguel was off somewhere. Probably thinking you weren’t cut out for this.

“Oh honey, this is looking like the same shit I picked up yesterday morning. This truck hadn’t even hit the road yet. ”

You stick your shovel in the ground and cross your forearms over the handle. Gabriel looks at you apologetically, but the chuckle in him doesn’t stay contained.

Miguel was a jackass.

“The cows don’t even mess up where they sleep this bad no way,” he continued. “I was so busy getting your house ready and fixing up things for the rodeo, I was able to move this out the way for composting.”

There was a rodeo to prepare for and yet Miguel still found time to give useless, stinky, busy work.

Not only was he a jackass, he was a dickhead, too.

You get back to work, choosing to imagine that you were throwing manure across Miguel’s face rather than getting mad at the flies whose home you were destroying.

Gabriel stays. Whether it’s for moral support or to laugh at your agony, you’re not sure, but his commentary cools you down.

As the last school of gunk hits the large pile in the bed, you really think you could muster up enough energy to strangle your boss. You could barely see through to the front of the truck.

“Thank you kindly,” Gabriel taps the bunk. “I don’t really like Miguel’s methods of…”

“Hazing? Torture? Deceit?”

“…testing,” he finishes. “But, if anything, you showed me you’re willing and ready to work. It’s a lot more than this last, what, ten? Twelve or so ‘ranch hands’ have done in the first weeks.”

You relax a bit, “So, I’ve got the job?”

“Had it when you told Miguel off at the paddock.”

He pats your shoulder as he shuffles to the driver’s seat.

“Go rest up. We got a busy day tomorrow and you start to smell like you’re the one that dealt it whenever you deal with manure.”

Grimacing, you nod in agreement. Your blouse would be better off in a garbage chute at this point.

Gabriel hikes himself in the driver’s seat and yells out before he leaves.

“Be out here at 7 AM sharp tomorrow! Don’t be late or it’ll be worse things to do than this. Left you some dinner on the table and some food in the fridge. We’ll handle shopping later.”

The truck moves and you panic, watching the pile fall into itself. Gabriel is driving far too fast.

Once he becomes more of a pebble in the distance and the sun is starting to hide behind he trees, you take a sniff at your clothes and gag.

You’re not sure if the world's strongest detergent and chlorine gas could get the smell out, but you know that from today, you were going to either prove Miguel wrong or die trying not to kill him.

After a shower, a deep cleanse to your scalp, a refresh to your braids, and a face mask, you finally go to the kitchen to see what Gabriel left you.

Thank you for signing up for this job! I know it’s hard labor, but the beauty of the result and the countryside make it all worth it.

I knew you’d make a great addition to The Huntsman Farms from our emails and I was happy to see that my gut was right.

For your hard work:

Fresh hot tamales made by my wife!

There’s a steamer on the stove to heat them up, but in case you’re prone to fires like me, just pop em in the microwave.

Enjoy and see you bright and early tomorrow!

P.S. - There’s some lemonade in the fridge too!

“A wife?”

You were too busy gawking at his face, you didn’t even think to check his hand. Of course, a man like that would be tied down.

Sighing, you open the microwave and start to wrap two tamales in damp paper towels. Your eyes were heavy and you might actually start a fire somehow if you turned the stove on.

While your food heats up, you pour a glass of lemonade and take a sip. It’s not too sweet, not too tart, and probably fresh.

When everything was ready, you sat at the small dining room table and unwrapped the husk.

One bite had you scrunching your face in anger and flipping Gabriel’s letter, searching for a description.

Fragrant tomatillo and green peppers, chicken bursting with flavor, and it was only just one bite.

You think there was another with pork and red sauce calling your name.

“She can cook and she has a great man, how lucky.”

You catch some scribbles on the back of the notebook paper and you straighten it out.

Smiling at her princess greeting for you and her best attempt at spelling your name, you read her words.

Welcome to the farm! I hope we can play together soon!

And I’ll teach you how to ride a horse! You can ride my horse! Her name is Flora! Like the fairy!

And I like your hair! It’s so pretty!

♡ Gabriella ♡

You pout your lip taking in her sweet message. Such a darling came from Miguel, a complete menace.

A tall, dark, and handsome one, sure. And strong. Hefty. It all falls through once your brain registers his words and not his drawl. He’s rude as all get out with the attitude of a donkey.

Despite that, as the night winds down and your head hits the pillow you wondered if you had made the right choice.

It was hot. It was stressful. It was far away from most things.

But, your thoughts kept running back to the little girl with wild hair and adorable smile.

For her, you think you’ll stay a while.

dividers by ⋆⋆⋆ saradika + rookthornesartistry 💚

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[sunkissedscribbles]

☆ 𝑆𝑊𝐸𝐸𝑇 – 𝐻𝑂𝐺𝑀𝐴𝑆 𝐷𝐴𝑌 𝟷

PAIRING: mattheo riddle x reader A/N: christmas szn strikes again!!! i'm so excited to be doing my first ever ficmas, i hope y'all like it, too SONGS: Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex

☆ HOGMAS 2024 LIST ☆ MASTERLIST ☆ TAG LIST ☆ KIARA'S PART

One thing about Mattheo that was very obvious to anyone with eyes that besides loving you to the moon and back, he loved winter. It was when he was the happiest, cozied up on the couch of the Slytherin common room, sharing a warm blanket with you, limbs tangled as you two were sipping on some hot tea.

It wasn’t the Advent, the Christmas period for him that always seemed to have him in a good mood. In fact, he couldn’t have cared less about the birth of ‘some bloke who conceived without his mother being shagged’ if he’d tried. No. It was the warmth of the fireplace after Quidditch practice, the sweet, cinnamony scents filling the air everywhere, the decorations all around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, the muggle Christmas songs you kept showing and making him mixtapes of, little snowball fights, and ice skating on the ice of the frozen Black Lake.

But mostly, it was the way you seemed to bud out in flowers as soon as you saw the first hint of snow.

He loved seeing you so happy over something that happens annually.

“You’ve never seen muggle London?” you asked, eyes wide with surprise shining in them before a great, excited smile appeared on your lips. “Let me take you. See the lights, the Christmas market –London’s beautiful now.” Seeing your pretty smile and shining eyes, Mattheo couldn’t (and wouldn’t want to) refuse an offer like this.

So this is how he found himself in the city centre, with you by his side, blabbering about the market and hot chocolate excitedly.

Merlin, he wanted to kiss you so bad. But then you’d stop talking. It was either your voice or your lips.

He tried to focus on what you were saying, but then there came that cute sound – your laughter, a soft, gentle giggle he loved so much leaving your mouth and sending is mind into overdrive, a crooked smile appearing on his own lips, and he finally went in for that kiss he’d been dreaming of for the past few seconds – maybe minutes. He’d always lost all sense of time when he was with you.

Not only sense of time, though. He could put the pressure of being You-Know-Whose son for as long as you were with him aside, and he could relax with you around. And Merlin, did he dread you’d ever finding someone possibly better than him as much as one could cower at the mere idea of facing their own worst enemy. And Mattheo’s worst enemy was time, it always had been. Why? Because before you, it moved so slowly as if he’d been jinxed into numbness, and with you, it moved so fast as a blink of an eye, and he implied it was your effect on him. So, of course he feared the day you’d call it quits.

You reciprocated the kiss, a little taken aback by the sudden action, but smiled nonetheless, knowing that you’d found your one and only in him, that you’d never stop loving him.

And in spite of his fears and doubts, deep down, he knew that too.

It was so sweet, knowing that you loved him.

And it was perfect.

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[n3ptoonz]

BEGGING you to make more sub mk men content 😭 they're always dom in all the other hc's and it's refreshing to see something that's my cup of tea lol

oh? like this? throws this post behind me like a bouquet toss earthrealm guys here

mk1 hcs: how the outworld guys react to you riding them

y'all sure do love headcanons LMFAOO

i always try my best for most of the outworld cast cause i'm truly an earthrealm girly, but i got yall. yall really challenge me 😵‍💫

Shang Tsung

This sly mf. He thought when you suggested riding, he'd be the one watching you writhe, but it's quite the opposite. Little did you know it was all an act. A fib; fairytale. He wants power, of course, but in the bedroom it's entirely different

Nothing will get him to submit fast than treating him like a common harlot. He's in desperate need of hair pulling, degradation, maybe even act like you're trying to kill him. He's into that shit! He's an aggressive man, so he should be treated as such

I'm talking fully dog this man out while you ride him. It'll drive him mad and make him crave it. Hell, slap him around and call him names and his gasps, groans, and deep whimpers will clear the air in no time! If you add small weapons to the mix or like a role play thing it's ON

He's literally the meme "don't bully me i'll cum" so do with that what you will!

Rain

Rain sexy ass...OOF. That smug "i am a demigod" attitude is punted out the window when you ride him. One single stroke of his hair and a caress of the jaw and just like that he's a slut!

Give him praises. He wouldn't handle degradation too well. On the outside he appears to have his shit together and doesn't have a care in the world about anybody else but his studies (and you), but he likes to be taken care of

If you want to be rougher or if he asks you to, really just pull his hair/give him love bites. idk it might just be me but i just wanna bite him sooo we're gonna say he likes bites! He's also super handsy but mostly when he's close

He's not very vocal but when he is i can see him as the kinda man that like...purrs, if that makes sense? If it don't i say he's a grunter and from groan city: population him

Reiko

Reiko has a hard time being submissive, but you just make it a little easier for him. You kinda have to coax him into it before every time you get intimate because he's made it clear he can do both and wants to try submitting more to the person he loves

It was your suggestion after a long time away for a mission. Poor dude was stressed da hell out! He's like Rain, a sucker for praise. Now that i'm really picturing it he'd prob be down to smother his face into your chest cause like, that's hot to him

When he's feeling particularly spicy definitely tie him down so he can't pull free no matter how much brute strength he uses. Hold his face and never break eye contact, he's all yours! If you call him any name that has the word "strong" in it he's like puddy in your hands

Prime grunt man here. He ain't whimpering unless you deny him of something, even then it goes from a coarse tone to soft

General Shao

Siiggghhhh 🙄 Shao likes the riding position the most. That's all thanks for coming to my Ted talk

LOL JUST KIDDING😹 He would appear like he's incapable of submission but like, this is YOU we're talking about. And he'd do anything for you. Literally.

A little birdy told me he loves when you grab his horns. Grab his horns. Grab them and make him look at you. This unbreakable wall of man yearns to be conquered by someone like you. Someone who dared to challenge him and never back down? By the Gods he has a breeding knk whether you can have kids or not. oh yeah, he'd beg. plead. he's gasping for air like pls just don't stop riding him LMAO he needs his mind off taking the throne for a few hours

whimpering little bitch which eventually turn into growls and grunts. takes a bow

Reptile

Syzoth is so subby I literally cannot picture him dominating a soul. Ashrah got that man on hold fr but anyway this about you

Typa dude to tear up when you ride him. You just look so damn good, and you make him feel so damn good. Dizzy eyes that he can barely keep open; I feel like he'd go brain numb from how fast he feels pleasure

I'm talking like because he's not originally human he's more sensitive. Now hear me out guys...two dicks....AHEM. DONT SHOOT THE MESSENGER!! Both his dicks are very sensitive OHHHHHHHHH Reduce him to a sobbing, stuttering, gasping, mess. He needs it, wants it, loves it. It's up to you if you'd ride him in his og form ya nasty. He'd also have a tendency to leave bite marks on you like your chest, neck, and shoulders

Mister whimper over here there's nothing else he does but whimper and cry jesus almighty somebody give this man a HUG (hug him while you fuck him dumb/busts)

Havik

Banging my head against the wall rn lemme tap in...ok we here let's go.

Another kombatant who peruses power, but also very much attracted to it. He definitely likes to be dominated. He'd be into some real kinky shit too i know it. Literally all the above he don't wanna think about SHIT

He would thoroughly enjoy being completely helpless at your disposal as you ride him. He likes degradation more than praises but if you do give him the kind of praise that inflates his already massive ego. shoot down his arrogance while also maintaining it he fucking lives for it. he likes being choked or slapped too keep that in mind

This bitch growls and that's it. bro ain't got the lips to really make different sounds LMAO?? get yo fuckin dog bitch!!!

Baraka

You might be insane but we love that haha...! Monster fucker certificate checked at the door i understand i do

Absolutely no degradation here DO NOT!! Mf might start crying or give a monologue either way, steer clear. Be nice to him!!

He likes to be held, and he likes holding his partner. If this was confident Baraka from the previous timeline I'd say he likes fast and crazy over slow and romantic but that's not the case. Be immersed and in the moment with him, he clings onto the human interactions he got stripped from him 😞

Growls but that's mostly bc he deadass don't have lips either LMFAO😭

a/n: tearing my skin off rn I DID IT GUYS I DID IT TELL ME IM GREAT😎author likes praise too.

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men act in and after a fight part ll

Part l with Gojo, Megumi and Nanami here

Pairing: Geto x reader, Choso x reader, bonus: Yuji x reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: my lil baby Yuji simply can't start a fight so it's more like a fluff fan service for y'all, Choso and Geto being a little mean, not proofread

Tags: @satoruukisser @sanicsmut (I just know you've waited for this one hehe) @ifuckfictionalmen

Suguru Geto

“Hey love, how you’re feeling?”, the sweet voice of your boyfriend talks through the speaker of your phone.

Oh, how much you’ve missed him. Since Suguru became a special grade sorcerer, he’s got his hands full with work. Day in and day out, his life is occupied by exorcising curses. So him finding time to call you is a really rare occacion and puts a bright smile on your face immediately.

“I’m okay, my mission went well. Working with Utahime isn’t that bad”, you explain briefly.

“How are you? What a nice surprise that you’re calling!”

“Yeah, about that…”

He clears his throat uncomfortably, leaving you waiting on the other end of the line. What is wrong?

“Listen (y/n). There’s a very important mission for me and Satoru from Tengen-sama himself. I’ll be gone for a few day, need to leave the city…”

“Oh great, I’m coming with you!”, you announce.

Will it be hot wherever you’ll go? Maybe you can pack some nice dresses, after all you aren’t there for work. When was the last time you went on vacation with Suguru? You don’t even remember anymore. All you know is that you ha-

“There’s absolutely no chance you’ll come with me, (y/n). Come on, don’t be ridiculous, this is a mission after all. Also, Satoru will be there with me.”

Your heart sinks for a second, his words slightly hurting you.

“I’m sure Satoru wouldn’t mind! And like that, I’ll get to spend some time with you. That would be great, right?”

“(y/n), this is not the place for a grade 2 sorcerer. And I don’t want to spend time with you on a mission”, he instantly replies, voice dead serious.

Wow. You let his words sink in. No, he didn’t mean it like that, right? He didn’t just say that you are weak, that he doesn’t want to spend time with you…right? Your thoughts are racing. Why would he say something like that? You train your ass off day and night, always trying to get better at anything you do. And why does he not want to spend time with you on a mission? You’re a jujutsu sorcerer yourself after all. And he doesn’t seem to mind working with Satoru…

“I didn’t mean it like that”, he interjects after a few seconds of silence.

“Please don’t worry.”

“I just don’t understand why”, you breathe out.

“You love working with Satoru, though. Why not working with me?”

“(y/n), please don’t cause a scene right now. Satoru and I are the strongest, so it’s only logical to let us carry out that mission. You might be skilled, but not skilled enough.”

‘Not enough’, ‘don’t cause a scene’. His words cut through your heart like a knife through butter. Yes, you might be sensitive, you might overreact, but the way he speaks to you with this unknown stone cold voice and not very well picked words leaves your mind racing.

“I just thought this would be a perfect opportunity to spend some time together. The last few weeks we-“

“(y/n)”, he interrupts you harshly.

“I don’t have time for that bullshit now, okay? We’ll talk tonight.”

And with that, he hangs up, leaving you standing in the rain with trembling lips and eyes that threaten to overflow. What has gotten into him? You asked him really nicely, never pushing him with any of your words. Why did he leash out like that?

C’mon, it’s not even that bad. Maybe he was in a rush, maybe he is too overwhelmed by that important mission maybe-

You do your best to suppress your ruminations with good and logical thoughts desperately, but still…

Maybe he doesn’t want to spend time with you.

Frantically, you wipe over your falling tears, trying to calm yourself down in the middle of Tokyo. Maybe you should just get home, drink a tea and wait for Suguru to return. Yes, after all he told you you’ll talk this out in the evening.

And so you waited. Minutes, then hours, long after midnight without a sign of him. Dead worried that something might have happened, multiple unanswered calls on his and Satoru’s side. This isn’t him, it doesn’t match your boyfriend’s style at all to leave you standing in the rain. Something must have happened, something really really bad, something-

“Hello *hicks*, ‘m back”, his voice suddenly announces.

You squint your eyes, gaze fixed on the way he stumbles into the living room with his face redden in a way you’ve never seen before and orbs roaming around with no aim.

“Where have you been? I was absolutely worried about you. And you didn’t even answer my calls…”, you begin, your voice as soft as ever even though you feel like dying from the inside.

Even from afar, it is obvious that he’s drunk. Anger begins to rise in you, almost making you lose your cool temper. He can’t be serious about that.

“Yeah, had no time for that. Was out with Satoru”, he remarks.

“Yeah. Nothing new”, you comment dryly.

“You mad?”

His figure stumbles towards the couch, almost crushing you under his body weight in the process. No, the thought alone of having him near you right now drives you insane. You pull away, creating distance between your bodies.

“Huh, where are u goin’?”, he questions.

“I tried to call you this whole evening. Do you remember that you promised we would talk things out tonight?”

You desperately try to not sound hurt and vulnerable, but you simply can’t help yourself. Suguru is what you considered the best boyfriend walking on this earth, always respectful, always looking after you. But today, you’ve seen a very new side of him – a side that seems to don’t give a damn about you.

“Oh, that’s why you’re so mad…”

“I always knew and respected that Satoru is your best friend, but that you’re choosing boy’s vacation over a little bit of time with me after the two of you’ve been together the last weeks while I’ve waited at home for you just doesn’t make sense to me. But not only that, you called me weak, you made me feel as if I’m worth nothing. I don’t know, maybe I’m overreacting, maybe I’m being ridiculous like you’ve told me, but it…it just hurts me, Suguru. It hurts me that you’ve treated me this way”, you blurt out.

“I’m scared, (y/n).”

His sudden words catch you off guard, eyes glued to you with so much gravity that you forget about his drunkenness for a second. He’s scared? Where does that come from? You can’t help but scoot a little closer, his facial features looking as lovely as ever in the moonlight.

“Why are you scared, Suguru?”

“This is something really treacherous and I’m not sure if I’m able to take it. If something goes wrong, we might have to fight Tengen-sama himself or worse, you’ll get hurt in the process. I don’t want you to be in the line of fire. I’m truly sorry if I hurt you with my words this afternoon, but the thought of you getting injured on this mission alone killed me from the inside. You are way too precious to get into something like that, especially because it scares the hell out of me myself.”

You grab his hand gently, looking deep into his chocolate brown eyes. No, this isn’t the time for pride. Now you understand why he acted so strange, why he came home this late and why he’s sitting in front of you full to the brim. It shatters your heart to know that these thoughts are occupying his mind – more than his words this afternoon.

“Don’t let these thoughts eat you up alive. How did you say that afternoon? You and Satoru are the strongest. If you aren’t able to complete that mission, nobody is. I believe in you with all my heart, darling. No matter how hard the mission seems, no matter how dangerous is get. I just want you to know that I’ll always stay by your side”, you mumble, arm gently wrapped around his shoulder.

“I don’t deserve you, darling”, he hushes against your ear before embracing you in a tight hug.

God, how much you needed that, how much you longed for his touch this whole day.

“I’m sorry for saying all these things to you. It’s just…I don’t want you to get involved in this…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, I get it. And I overreacted a little. Don’t think about it too much. Let’s go to sleep, okay? You probably drank a lot and tomorrow is another day.”

“I love you, (y/n). Forever and always.”

You smile at him softly, fingertips tracing along his jawline. Even though he smells like sake and his drunk eyes roam around your face with no aim, you love this man with all your heart.

“I love you too, Suguru.”

Choso Kamo

“C’mon, stop acting like a dick”, you demand, mouth twisted into a pout.

Choso signs while rolling his eyes in pure annoyance. How long have you been sitting here, trying to convince him to take you with him to Shibuya? It sure feels like an eternity.

“Stop acting like a fool, then. This isn’t the right place for you to be. I have a very important mission to fulfill, (y/n)”, he demands.

The dangerous glistening in his eyes scream in your face to stop, to just let it slide and wait for him to return. But this is not fair. Fuck, you’re a mighty jujutsu sorcerer, you are really able to help him. But what does he do instead? Working with some of these hilarious curses.

“And I’m a very important juju-“

“ENOUGH.”

The way he yells into your face makes you back away in an instant, usual so bored eyes filled with nothing but thick anger.

“Don’t you understand that I don’t need you? This is very important to me, I seek revenge for my brothers. This isn’t a game, (y/n). You’ll stay here and wait until I return. Do you understand?”

You defiantly cross your arms over your chest, gaze glued to the floor.

“Do. You. Understand.”

“Yes”, you bark back.

“Good. I’ll be back this evening, my love. Don’t be too mad at me.”

His fingers gently caress your cheek before he walks away, into the fight. You cry out in frustration, a new wave of fury washing over you. Why would you be in the way? It’s not like you’re reincarnated yourself, a skilled jujutsu sorcerer for more than 150 years. Fuck, maybe you’re even on the same level as Choso. He might be your boyfriend, that doesn’t mean he can boss you around.

Yes. You are your own chef, always doing whatever you want. A cheeky grin is plastered on your face. Why would you stay at home when slaughtering some jujutsu sorcerers sounds so fun?

Without thinking twice you sprint away, into the dark night, into the train station of Shibuya Choso told you he’s stationed in. Where is he? What is he doing? Maybe you’re even able to help him killing these brats that are responsible for his brother’s death. Yes, what a joy, what a fun!

Your eyes dart around the empty area, not even a single curse in sight. Huh, that’s strange. You thought there would be more resistance, more fights. But instead, you are greeted by empty hallway over hallway, running around like a lost puppy.

Until you stop right in your tracks. Until you can hear his beautiful voice loud and clearly. Your feet carry you his direction instinctively, soon greeted by a merciless fight that lays itself out in front of you.

“Oh, what a coincidence to see you here!”, you greet your boyfriend, aiming a punch at the pink-haired boy in front of you without even knowing who he is.

Choso’s eyes widen in pure horror, forcing him to forget abou the presence of Yuji Itadori for a moment.

“(y/n)”, he breathes out.

You smile at him widely, confidence dripping from every poor.

“I told you to stay away”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

“And I didn’t listen”, you reply.

With a swift motion, he pins you against a nearby wall, eyes darted at you in a way you’ve never seen before.

“I’m starting to lose patience with you, (y/n).”

“I’m here to help you out, love. Why would you have to do this on your own? I love killing people and I’m also seeking revenge for your beloved brothers. After all, they were my family too and everyone who hurts you automatically hurts me too.”

He pants heavy, gaze wandering between your eyes and lips. You’re not sure what’s going on, his mimic not telling you a single bit about his feelings. Is he mad, disappointed, absolutely furious? You can’t tell. But you meant every word you said. When will he finally realize that he’s never alone as long as he has you? You are his girlfriend, after all. It’s your job to be on his side.

“Do you really mean that?”, he mumbles, still holding onto your shoulders tightly while distracting the boy behind him with his blood manipulation.

“Of course I mean that. We’re a team, right?”

You don’t know what’s happening, too stunned by the way he suddenly wraps his arms around you so tightly that it’s hard to breathe, head hiding in the crook of your neck.

“You don’t know how much that means to me…”

It’s like you’re air and he can’t breathe, the way he holds onto you for what seems like dear life. You can’t remember a single moment he ever showed his affection towards you this passionately. But oh how much you enjoy it, closing your eyes to feel his touch even better.

“You are suborn”, he breathes out, taking your face between his hands and pressing his forehead against yours.

Are these tears glistening in his eyes? Your usual so cold and calculating heart feels as if it’s drowning in emotion, absolutely mesmerized by the way he shows himself so vulnerable around you.

“And absolutely in love with you”, you reply, running your fingertips through his hair.

“Wait here until I give you a signal. You know what you have to do”, he instructs you before pressing one last kiss at your demanding lips and turning away.

“Hell yes I do”, you response immediately, face of determination readier that ever.

Bonus: Yuji Itadori

“Can you stop breathing so damn loud?”, you spit at him.

God, he’s so annoying. Everything is so annoying today. The way the birds sing, how your lunch tasted, your training session. Everything just sucks, including your boyfriend.

“Did I really breath that loud? Sorry babe”, he replies instantly, holding his breath in consequence.

“Urgh, can you scoot over? I need more space”, you grumble.

“Of course!”

Without thinking twice, he slides against the wall so you have more than enough space. Really, is he serious about that?

“Are you keeping safe distance to me or what?”

“Absolutely not, I just thought you need space…”

“Do you need space from me? You want me to leave, huh?”

“N-no!”

Yuji just looks at you through his doe eyes, mind racing in a desperate attempt to understand your feelings. Did he do something wrong? Actually no, you always love to literally sit on him while watching TV, telling him over and over how much his slow breathing calms down your tingling nerves. What is different today? He looks into distance, thinking of every possible thing that might be wrong until…

Oh, you might be on your period.

Even though your mood swings were never this bad, the timing and general mood would be fitting. But asking you is way too dangerous, maybe you’ll lose it completely if he brings that up. No, he’ll just stay nice and give you what you need at the moment.

“Do you even love me anymore?”

He comes closer, gently taking your hand into his much larger one while smiling widely at you.

“Sure, you’re the love of my life after all! Just tell me if you need something, I’m always there for you, okay?”

Your stomach is killing you, it feels like getting kicked by the horse over and over again. Deep within you know it isn’t fair to let that out on Yuji, but at the moment, you simply can’t control yourself. But when he’s looking at you like that, gently smiling at you with so much affection in his eyes…

“Maybe you can bring me some pain killers?”, you mumble.

“Will be right back!”

In the matter of five minutes, he returns with pain killers and chocolate in one hand and a hot water bottle in the other. Your heart melts away. God, how is this boy so precious? Is this really your boyfriend?

“Oh Yuji, thank you so much…”, you breathe out, tears stinging in your eyes.

He’s just too good for you. You treated him so badly, and him? He treats you like a literal princess.

“Everything’s fine, (y/n). I do that with pleasure!”, he reassures you, gently wrapping his arms around you while whipping your tears away.

“I’m sorry for lashing out on you like that and causing trouble”, you sniff against his chest, immediately regretting your words from earlier.

“No need to be. We all have a bad day sometimes! And now open up the chocolate and choose a movie."

Your orbs gaze up at him, admiring his loving eyes. Is it even possible to start a fight with this boy? It seems like he understands you like no other, always saying the right words. He is simply a blessing, a true sweetheart.

“Yeah, sounds good”, you reply, placing a small kiss on his cheek.

What a precious boy you are able to call your boyfriend.

[moonstruckme]

hi mae! i’ve recently become obsessed with herbal teas and i noticed you have mentioned chamomile and jasmine tea in your fics lol. i am wondering if you would be interested in writing a remus or poly!marauders fic with an american reader who loves herbal teas and they kinda tease her about it (in a loving way of course)? i love your fics and i hope you have a lovely day whenever you read this <3

I love herbal teas! I fully support this obsession honey. Thank you for requesting!

cw: british slander, i love y'all but i'm besmirching your brand <3 (based largely on my own experiences lol, so perhaps not fully accurate)

Remus Lupin x american!reader ♡ 614 words

“This is so disappointing,” you sigh at the sight of Remus’ cabinet. 

“What?” he asks from the couch. 

“You told me you had tea.” 

“I do have tea.” 

“No, you only have this.” You take the box of Yorkshire Tea out of the cabinet, brandishing it where Remus can see. “This shit is nasty. Rubbish, as your folk say.” 

“Oh,” he laughs, “so you sail all the way across the ocean, take our teas with you, denounce our government, and then come back here to criticize, is that it?” 

You look at him darkly. “This is what the Boston tea party was really about. I get it now.” 

Remus beckons you toward the couch. You go, abandoning the boiling kettle since apparently there’s no point in searching the kitchen for anything good to drink. It’s only once you sit down on the couch and he takes your hand into his lap that you realize your mistake. 

Remus has a mollifying effect on you. It’s tragic, really. All it takes is a look, a shift in his tone, a small touch like this, and you’re pliant and boneless for him. 

“What sort of teas do you prefer?” he asks you softly, tracing the lines of your palm.

“I usually keep a variety,” you tell him, matching his tone. “Like cinnamon, or passionflower, or rooibos…have you heard of any of those?” 

Remus smiles, slow and sweet. “I have. Would you like whipped cream and sprinkles on those as well?” 

You laugh, rolling your eyes. You try to take your hand back, but Remus holds fast (you don’t make it hard for him), grinning at you. 

“That is so not fair. Just because y’all like your tea bland—”

“Say that one more time for me? Who all?” 

“—doesn’t mean my tastes are somehow unrefined.” You fix him with a hard stare, though your smile is untamable. “You’re being posh.”

Remus looks amused. “Never been accused of that one before,” he says. 

“Have you ever tried jasmine tea with a little bit of sweet creamer in it?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Remus, you’re really missing out.” 

“Alright.” He stands, taking your hand with him and giving it a tug when you don’t follow. “C’mon, up.” 

“Where are we going?”

“To make you a cuppa.” 

You giggle. “I can’t take you seriously when you call it that.” 

“Once you stop saying dude, we can talk about my diction.” 

“So mean,” you tsk, letting him pull you over in front of the kitchen counter. He pours the hot water from the kettle into a mug, placing a tea bag in it. 

“We’ll get this drinkable for you, love, don’t worry,” Remus murmurs, waiting until the tea is a deep brown before going to the fridge. He pours in heaps of milk and sugar, stirring with a look of mild distaste in his expression. “Alright, try.” 

You take the mug off the counter warily, blowing on it before putting it to your lips. 

You hum, and Remus lifts an eyebrow. 

“It’s…better.” 

“I’ve done my best,” he chuckles, taking it from you. “I’ve thrown all my principles and better sense out the window, and it’s still not up to your standards, hm?” 

“No, it’s not bad.” You steal the mug back, taking another sip and smacking your tongue against the roof of your mouth experimentally. “It’ll do.” 

Remus gives you an indulgent look. “I’m sure we can find you some jasmine tea if that’s what you want,” he offers. 

You shrug. “I was just at the grocery store, and I didn’t see any.” 

He tilts his head skyward, blowing out a long-suffering breath. “I think you mean the grocery, sweetheart.”