#Camellia too <3

[anoteofcalcium]

Camellia is carrying me my Demon playthrough 😔

(Alt. Title: Camellia and her gross Little Freak)

[basketcased]

me personally i’m on team girlboss

[camelliagwerm]

🌺Vali can effortlessly walk in any heel height. Zero wobbling. All strut.

I think this would be a 7/10 because he absolutely could and would with some practice for higher heels. He usually wears a 1 or 2 inch heel on his standard boot anyway - anything above a 3 might be a problem, especially since his dexterity isn't naturally high and I think trying to find shoes that fit him may be a struggle.

He wouldn't go higher than that anyway - Camellia would never forgive him if he did.

[hotgirltobi]

Mkay, I have some time to work on some art for Gai's birthday bash. I like having three flowers to braid in a flower crown, but it's hard narrowing it down so...

[mathlann]

While I know in general it is a truth universally acknowledged that a sarcastic man in possession of a tragic backstory must be in want of a redemption arc, I do think there's something genuinely refreshing sometimes for a character to come out the other side and still just suck.

[dragonji]

bamboo, chia, camellia?

bamboo -> do you change into a different outfit when you get home?

If I have no other plans for the day yes I'll almost always switch to lounge clothes!

chia -> what’s an inside joke you have with someone else?

Nothing really comes to mind off the top of my head ^^; A lot of my humor is in reaction to situations so doesn't tend to be very long lasting!

camellia ->  what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

Generally I think I've just mellowed out from when I was younger but haven't changed too much... As a kid I was much less socially aware but also in a way more outgoing bc I just did Not understand many social cues unless I was directly told.. I was also way more stubborn and bossy lol. I was very much a kid that wanted every adult's approval whereas now recognition still matters to me but I'm not so obsessive over it.

[dilfian]

4 hour work<3 just that easy<3 kiss my ass l*wes<3 lol

[tmos-time]

Hii!!! I sent you a song request a loooong time ago (the remi wolf song) so I'm hoping you're cool with another. I was listening to zedd - addicted to a memory and for some reason it sounds super erisolsprite-coded to me, it's an edm track so I'm not 100% sure if you'll vibe with it or not, but it makes me CRAZY. All that aside, hope you've been having a good day btw 👍

ooh, it's not my flavor of edm specifically, but i can see parts in it that are interesting! not really sure what songs i could bring up to reveal more of my edm of preference tbh LOL

days been alright!! mostly been relaxing between socializing and getting chores done lmfao

[fettery-fetterie]

Having the right amount of feelings about hiasobi (long post!)

It's just so,,,ough i love i so much and i live for it like ooooough

It came out roughly the same week i started to have feelings for leather and like. Wow. Just wow.

I felt like "YEAH. YOU GET IT. YOU GET AND UNDERSTAND MY FEELINGS. YOU UNDERSTAND THE LOVE. THE PASSION. THE RISK AND DANGER" and it was just so...warm and comforting, like if i was in a place i could lay down and let The Feelings™ flow safely

And like. Of course i had to. I had to use it for the actual day y'know

Having the song that accompanied me for so long through this cycle of love fantasies and pain, as the one that would ultimately be the witness to my confession...good gracious it felt magical

I don't think I'll be able to replicate that feeling ever, not even in my (hypothetical) wedding xD! It was just that nice!

[chrollogy]

18+ MDNI; smut, porn without plot, unprotected sex, creampie, shameless oikawa brainrot, pathetic & subby(?) oikawa, he has praise kink, overstimulation (m), multiple orgasms (2), cowgirl, erotic asphyxiation (m), pet names (baby, my love). divider: cafekitsune.

notes: this is for my dear friend lexi @hanafubuxi :3 eheheheheheh pay back for that tsumu ask you sent <3

── you didn’t know how to describe the view before you . . heavenly? ethereal? lewd? hm. the list could go on, and on but there was one thing you were sure of—oikawa was as pretty as the first flowers of spring whenever he wore those infamous specs, especially with the apples of his cheeks painted the same hue as a japanese camellia.

erotic sounds of loud skin slapping, and dulcet whines filled the shared bedroom; the scent of passionate intimacy lingered in the heavy atmosphere, kissing your naked bodies in the form of sweat.

beneath you was oikawa—your lover—all in his bare glory; umber strands splayed across the soft ivory pillow beneath his head, displaying a faux halo, as though he was a heavenly being sent from above, divine, and all things pure; his naked chest subtly gleamed with sweat, skin peppered in hues of dark red, and purple. oikawa looked like an absolute mess with tears threatening to spill from his eyes, and it drove you up the wall, clenching around his cock at the state he was in.

though, the cherry on top were the glasses he donned—all fogged up, and moist from the damp atmosphere of your shared bedroom. the frame crookedly sat atop oikawa’s pretty face, threatening to fall off with every merciless bounce of your hips. a glimpse of his eyes rolled back from ecstasy peeked beneath the translucent glass; god, he looked no better than a common whore from how good he was taking the sinful movements of your hips.

lightly circling your fingers around his neck, the bed frame creaked beneath your naked bodies, a light squeaking in unison with each eager bounce. with oikawa’s rosy lips parted, a series of colourful curses, and incoherent mewls slipped off his tongue, as your hips relentlessly moved up, and down, up, and down his hard cock.

fuck, just the feeling of your hand around his throat had him seeing stars.

slim, shaky fingers dug onto the feverish skin of your hips, a feeble attempt to slow your actions but you didn’t let up. instead, you took both of oikawa’s hands, and pinned them on either side of his face, interlacing your fingers with his own, and using them as leverage to angle your hips better.

the slight change in angle pulled a shaky whine from you, and oikawa, his head pressed further into the pillow beneath as the your warm cunt eagerly sucked his cock even deeper; kissing intimate parts of your velvety walls.

“f-fuck—! too much, baby, please. .”

oikawa whined, adam’s apple bobbing with every saccharine sound that slipped past his swollen lips; strands of umber that framed his handsome face were now stuck to his forehead. you let out a humourless laugh—one that had oikawa coiling in pleasure—and planted a chaste kiss on his sweaty forehead,

“but you’re doing so, so well for me, my love . .”

a shameless moan in the shape of your name rolled off his tongue, handsome face contorted in pure bliss as he unexpectedly came at the mere praise that fell from your lips; oikawa’s fingers tightened against your own, a way to ground himself from the dizzying pleasure. whispered curses filled your ears as ribbons of hot cum painted your walls white, pulling a low whine from you at the familiar sensation.

oikawa’s mouth hung open as he gasped for air, immense pleasure that engulfed the entirety of his body becoming too much as the pace of your hips remained indifferent, effectively overstimulating him.

you could feel him attempt to pry off the weight of your hands against his own but the pleasure that gnawed at his bones had made his body limp; so, all oikawa could do was lay there, and take it all—the sinful roll of your hips, the ecstatic feeling that ate away at his sanity, and the feeling of your wet cunt hugging his cock.

it wasn’t long before oikawa reached another orgasm, this time, with you. curling over your body at the intense feeling, you babbled sweet, drunken praises against oikawa’s ear, gently nibbling at his feverish skin. the man beneath you let out a silent moan, hot tears that pooled his umber eyes rolled down his rosy cheeks, wetting his long lashes.

heavy pants filled the room as you, and oikawa stayed still for a moment, the cost of chasing pleasure weighing down on your naked bodies; a low whine slipped past his lips, sensitive cock moving against your cunt as you shifted atop him. oikawa’s thumb caressed the back of your palm, sleep slowly overtaking his body with each passing second, the sound of both your heartbeats lulling him to dreamland.

god, you never fail to drive him absolutely insane.

—

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

[bamsara]

I dont know if it was intentional but I love that Narinder when he sees Lamb throwing up he turns gentle and pushes their wool and ears back so they dont get stained with vomit and for some reason it reminded me of how when Nari was throwing up too after the nightmare he had when they were on route to fight Leshy, Lambert helped him with camellias for the nausea.

Ahh, parallels. I think.

IM SO GLAD YOU POINTED THAT OUT allow me to ramble for just a moment.

Narinder was trapped in the Afterlife for over 1000 years, with little social skills and plagued by wishing for vengeance and his only company being two kittens who become disciples under his rule. He has terrible social skills, if not lacking them entirely.

(I would argue that Aym and Baal also have horrific nonexistent social skills, so those three cat's can't really help each other communicate properly to anyone else outside themselves.)

It can be argued that since The One Who Waits had other vessels to pass time and try to kill /annoy his siblings before the prophesized Lamb arrival, that he would have developed them a little bit more, but I would argue that the power balance would have been oodles more severe since the vessels weren't the promised one. He didn't need them, so if they no longer were of service or disobeyed him, he got rid of them. Whether just sending them out or killing them, any how.

Lamb, however, knows they are the last Lamb, the prophesized liberator of The One Who Waits, and therefore his only option. They knew that they were his only reasonable way out of there (whether they asked for it or not) so they were oodles more comfortable than how a professional relationship would have been.

So they asked questions, bothered him, played and ran around him. Complained and vented to him. Yapped and yapped. What is he gonna do? Kill them? Find a new vessel? He can't. "You're as trapped into this prophecy as much as I am, so let's be friends"

Example parts from Chapter 3:

The power balance equalizes because Lamb did not see his presence a God, but rather a fellow prisoner and victim of fate. Rude and demanding, but in the same chains as they were. 'My lord' was simply formalities at first.

This puts Narinder / The One Who Waits in social situations he hasn't been in (or hardly been in) in over a thousand years, and frankly, he had no idea how to navigate them:

Example from Chapter 5:

The God of Death has not needed to comfort or 'be there' for someone in a long, long time. The Lamb's presence is what forces him to try, even if his first attempt aren't perfect. So in that same chapter, he'll ask them a question to distract them. Conversation. Like how they do it.

While I won't post a screenshot of everytime this happens in written format (not including the dreams/memories/flashbacks that haven't been posted yet)-

The One Who Waits is pushed outside of his bubble when it comes to socializing in a way that isn't just 'God-to-Lowly-Vessal' format. He has to talk to them like a person, because he's being talked to like a person, not a god on a pedestal.

Obviously after the final battle and betrayal (to both of them, otherwise known as the Grand Miscommunication) this means nothing for a while as tempers are still high and feelings are hurt. But overtime, this returns, and can show in small ways (ways that may not seem like comfort but is certainly an attempt) like just in Chapter 18:

Trying to bring them an 'offering' (breakfast) mirroring other times the Lamb has done the same for him:

Crudely offering to replace something they are upset at losing/later offering reassurance abet in a curt way:

And what you mentioned: earlier when the Lamb is throwing up, narration shows they're having trouble with keeping their wool, cloak, bell, ect all back at the same time. He can see that. He has a mental boiling pot explosion over the fact that helping them is even a want that he has after the denial crisis he's experiencing where the only answer a minute ago seemed like he needed to kill them, and he chose comfort.

It is intentional. Narinder is learning how to show care, and allowing himself to show care. Slowly, and not perfect, but learning.

[youngdutchishot]

Hey so we all think about this a regular amount..

Like I'm not the only dude thinking of Hosea and Dutch and their suits having the exact brooches, right??

I even went to search which these could be, and their meaning. Apparently, white flowers symbolize purity and innocence — and whatever flowers these may be ( google had given me carnations and camellias—If anybody actually knows what flowers their brooches are, do say!! ). I also, believe that white carnations usually(?) partake within a wedding? Because they too symbolize "pure love" and from what I had quickly found, "devotion". I seriously do not know, I'm not at all understanding of flowers so take what I yap to a grain of salt. I just felt silly today and wanted to look into this because I had to replay The Glided Cage mission!! Okwy im done yapping im gonna make a dutch edit- everyone please have yourself a wonderful dayyy!!!! Mwahmwahhh <3

[heartkaji]

★… 999 OKINAWA !❞

𝜗ৎ sum. endo’s never met a girl made of flowers.

𝜗ৎ notes. short poetic / flowery word vomit. mentions of blood. possible part two coming if i’m not too lazy </3

you met endo yamato in the summer of ‘99.

he died that summer with ivy in his teeth & dogwood in his mouth. when you asked around, the locals said the marigolds bit him to death.

funny how you met him in a marigold field, thistles in your hair & rosevines at your feet. endo yamato was dirty ink & swollen ankles bruised by rose thorns & japanese barberry. you thought he was beautiful.

but you didn’t dare near him, not when he crushed holly stems between his fingers, petals splitting in his palms. he seemed to have issues with the snapdragons & lamp grass—you watched from afar as he stomped on gold petals & camellia leaves till you decided the greenery had suffered enough.

“excuse me ? please don’t hurt the flowers.”

your voice is a dandelion in midsummer breeze. if you were any quieter, endo could’ve ignored it, but he turns to you, gashes on his forehead & blood dribbling down his chin,

“who the hell are you ?”

you want to shrink in on yourself, crawl into a mouse hole if you could. but instead you stand frozen like a deer in headlights, knot in your chest & voice swelling in your throat, “please don’t hurt the flowers.”

it’s more or less a squeak but endo seems amused. his lips curl into something of a grin & you don’t miss how he licks blood off split lips. “okay then, miss. but what’s in it for me if i do as you ask ?”

your lips tremble & your eyes sting & why the fuck are you crying ?

endo makes a face akin to surprise. your hands are dappled in tree sap & redmud yet you reach to clean your tears & now you’ve got soil & earth on your face too. endo feels bad. his brows are furrowed & his chest feels tight & how the hell did he get you sobbing?

his hands are faster than his head. his fingers are still drenched with earth & blood but they move to cup your cheeks & clean salt water off your face. now you’ve got soil on your skin & blood on your cheeks & holy hell you look even prettier up close.

endo tenses when you lean into his palm. there’s tears dribbling down your cheeks & it’s fucking disgusting but endo doesn’t necessarily feel repelled. he wonders what you’re doing out here, crown made of glaze lilies & cherry branches sitting on your hair. you’ve got a basket of holly & hawthorne in your hands & endo can’t help but think of how your cheeks match the rose petals.

“you’re beautiful,” endo’s got summer in his throat so it comes out as a whisper. he thinks you didn’t hear him but your heart bleeds up your throat. you free your cheeks from his hands & flowers spill from your basket, “please don’t hurt the flowers.”

endo gives you a nod. the flowers are safe with him.

© ─ heartkaji; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[xxsugarbonesxx]

Librarian Miguel x Flower Shop Owner

tags: tooth rotting amounts of fluff and some suggestive bits. No one is spider man in this AU, mainly just character set up stuff :3 and no gender is specified for reader any1 can read it

hopefully this will be me getting back into writing since i took a break from it lol (this was done in 30-40 minutes at 2am so sorry if it isnt too high quality) ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

In the little rural town of Nueva, there was a library, it was owned and operated by the single hottest man in town, and probably the whole state, Miguel O’Hara. 

Miguel O’Hara was a simple man really, he ironed his clothes, did sudoku on the train and ate a bagel with light cream cheese, an assortment of raspberries, blackberries and blueberries every morning every day for breakfast. 

He took his coffee dark with the littlest splash of cream and one sugar cube. Two sugar cubes would be just reckless. Coffee could be substituted with Camellia flower tea when he was out of coffee, peppermint for when he had a migraine.

All the women in town would sing his praises to another. Little was known about him besides that after the death of his daughter he moved to Nueva and opened his library. In front of his library was a small community garden and a bench dedicated to his dear daughter by the double doors. 

No one brought it up, no one asked, and he liked it that way. He liked the simplicity of Nueva. The air was cleaner, the people there warmer and the ringing in his ears seemingly disappeared when he moved there. 

He liked to keep his library neat and tidy, he had plenty of rules set in place to follow…children's books in the front and adult books in the back. The spicer content was shelved by the cook books so no kids found them. You are to only use the various lamps in the library, never the big light. It totally ruined the cozy atmosphere he had set up. 

Jazz, Frank Sinatra, and Selena Quintanilla was the only music allowed to be played, he didn’t like any other types of music. Coffee was free as long as you returned your mug to the table his coffee maker was on once you were done. No talking louder than a whisper, and only pet the library cat if you had all your shots. That was mostly a joke, but Miguel didn’t want people who weren’t up to date on their immunizations touching his cat.

It was almost closing time, and there were only a few people left. The familiar cast of characters Miguel had come to know now wandering the maze of shelves. Ben Riley was using one of the community monitors. Sending emails back and forth to his girlfriend in Canada. Only god knew if she was real or not.

When Miguel asked why Ben just bought his own laptop or computer to converse with his girlfriend, Ben explained he didn’t want to go through the trouble of setting up a laptop when he could just walk to the library to use one for free.

Miguel couldn’t help but hold back the fattest eye roll known to man when he heard that.

Peter Parker was looking for cookbooks for the dinner he was gonna make to win his ex wife back. Stressing over the perfect dish to make as young Mayday Parker debated whether she wanted to check out GoodNight Moon or Skippyjon Jones for her bedtime story tonight.

Then there was Pavitr Prabhakar and Gayatri Singh. Debatably his most adorable regulars. Miguel would watch the two teenagers stumble through their awkward study dates, he couldn't help but feel the littlest bit proud of Pav when he finally worked up the courage and kissed her. 

But his favorite, hands down, was you. You owned the little flower shop across the street from his library next to the bakery. On the opening, you had brought him a bunch of sunflowers tied with a pearl white ribbon as a gift. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he was actually allergic to sunflowers and graciously took the generous gift with a stuffy nose and kind smile.

You would come waltzing in, batting your eyelashes like you were auditioning for a mascara commercial. At first he had no interest in romance, but you were just so…kind, caring, loving, compassionate. You were so slow and soft spoken, giving him the space he needed while he grieved and was there afterwards to hug him and dry his tears. 

At the beginning, you’d only stop by and help him in the library or check out a novel or two, but as you became a frequent visitor, you stopped coming just to help him…and started coming just to see him.

He remembered how one day, you had arrived at the library as usual. A perplexed look on your darling face with your hands behind your back. You had spent all of the night before carefully crafting a special bouquet of lilies and tulips. Making sure there wasn't anything in it he was allergic to.

After dancing around the subject, you had slowly confessed her feelings to him. 

The next hour was spent in the back room of the library. Feverishly groping another and kissing frantically, your glasses kept sliding against each other’s as you both ran to rip each other's clothes off another's bodies.

Miguel was still that simple man he was all those years ago when he moved to the sleepy town of Nueva. The idea of building a real relationship with someone scared him from how many times he'd been hurt in the past and the fresh wounds from the death of his child.

But now he has you. He has someone to come home to besides the empty walls of his little cottage home. He has a significant other to fill that void and to lift him up, someone to be his lock screen picture.

Someone to tell all the things he’s learned from the regulars at the library. He told you about Ben getting catfished, Peter winning MJ over with homemade ratatouille and a promise, about Pav and Gayatri’s kiss while the both of you snuggled up on the couch over a bottle of strawberry wine.

You'd both started the relationship a little rocky, not knowing whether this was right with the things Miguel was working through then. But it soon proved to be the best decision either of you could have made. 

He had your wedding picture next to Gabriela's school picture day portrait on his desk. 

His favorite parts of his day were when you’d walk from your shop to the library on your lunch break to eat together, and in the evenings when he'd read the book you were currently reading out loud to you, before going to sleep together. 

He was still that simple man, but now he’d share his bagels with you. He’d offer to iron your clothes for you, and even when you didn’t understand, he showed you how to play sudoku on the long train rides. Even though you were just nodding along to hear him talk about something he enjoyed.

[broosterradley]

3 Is Better Than 2 - Pouts & Promises | Hangster x Reader

Warnings: Rooster x Reader, Hangman x Reader, swearing, mentions of smut, Jake and Bradley both being whipped for you, established relationship, poly relationship.

WC: 2k

All Content is mine, do not post to other sites.

The house was concerningly quiet when Bradley entered it at three PM on a Saturday, a bouquet of pink camellia’s in his hand that he couldn’t resist buying on the way out of the grocery store. “Hey, Hangman,” he called out as he set the keys to his Bronco down onto the kitchen counter. 

He was met with more silence, and he wasn’t used to the place being so void of life. Is this what it felt like for you when the guys went on deployments? If so, he was never leaving you again.

“Jake?” He tried again, then glanced inside the garage and saw that the blond’s truck wasn’t in there. 

Great, now he had to bring the groceries in by himself. 

With a huff, Bradley made his way down the hall and peeked his head into your office, finding you sitting at your desk with your back to him. “Hey, princess,” he greeted as he entered the nicely decorated room. “I got you these.”

He held the flowers out in front of you since you had yet to turn and face him. “Thanks, Bradley,” you take them from him with a small smile. 

“Where’d that guy go, huh?” He asked as he looked over at the photo of the three of you at the Hard Deck you had on your bookshelf. “I got some stuff to bring in.”

You turned in your chair and set the flowers aside, giving Bradley the first real look at your face since returning home. “I can help you,” you offer and stand up, moving to walk past him but he reaches out and halts you. 

Bradley’s eyes narrow at the redness in your own, and he straightens up a bit as he gently grabs your waist with both hands. “What’s the matter, huh?” He softly asked when he saw the way your bottom lip quivered. “What’d he do this time, pretty girl?”

You shrugged, stepping forward and casting your gaze down at his chest. “Nothing, really,” you try to brush off his questions, but you knew by now that neither he or Jake take kindly to people upsetting you.

So on the rare occasion that it was one of them, the other didn’t let up. “Tell me, baby,” he coaxed, bringing his hand up and pulling at your lip with his thumb. “I hate seeing you look sad.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you say quietly.

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured and kissed your forehead. “Just tell me what the fucker did so I have an excuse to kick his ass.”

That had you laughing a bit, like he knew it would, and when you pulled away to look up at him, you both wore small grins. “He just said something that hurt my feelings, is all,” you tell him, and Bradley knew you were still holding back because you hated pinning the two guys against each other. 

“What did he say?” He asked and you gave him a wary look. “I won’t get mad at him too much, princess, promise. Tell me what he said.”

Bradley was definitely the softer one out of him and Jake, but he was also the one who is more protective over you. He wasn’t afraid to smack some sense into his fellow aviator, and he had on more than one occasion. 

Jake was newer to relationships as he slept around before settling down with you, and with Bradley by default, though the men had a small distaste for one another.

They put up with each other only for you, and you were well aware of the power you held over them. 

“It’s fine, Bradley,” you try to wave him off again, but he gives you a look that has you sighing in defeat. “He just said…that I’m ungrateful and that I should be more respectful when I talk to him. Maybe I was acting like a bit of a brat earlier…I didn’t mean to, I swear. I’m sorry.”

You spoke quickly as if you were scared that Bradley would lash out on you in the way Jake had apparently done earlier. 

He shook his head and wrapped his arms around your middle, pulling you up against his chest with a soft grunt. “I’m not mad, baby,” he assured you, kissing the top of your head when you relaxed in his hold. “Not at you.”

“Don’t be mad at Jake, please,” you begged softly, bunching up the fabric of his black tee in your hands. “He hurt my feelings, but I don’t want him to be ganged up on. Please, Bradley?” 

He looked down at your pretty face and held back a moan at how fucking cute and sweet you are. Jake had upset you earlier, but you still didn’t want him to receive the earful Bradley was already planning on giving him. 

He wanted to throw you over his shoulder and take you to bed right now, because how could you possibly be this perfect? “Okay, princess,” he agreed, brushing your hair out of your face and pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “I won’t be too mean to him, okay? But I am going to talk to him.”

You sigh but nod, knowing that he wouldn’t let Jake think he could hurt your feelings and not face the consequences. “Okay,” you place your hands flat against his chest and gaze up at him with wide eyes. “You said you have stuff to bring in?”

Bradley nodded and pulled you back to his chest when you tried to walk past him. “But you’re not going to help me with it,” he stated, and you pouted at him. He pulled on your lip again before leaning down to kiss you. Hard. “You’re going to go into the bedroom, okay? I’m gonna show you the respect you deserve.” 

You bite down gently on your lip as you press your thighs together. “Are you sure?”

Bradley nodded and kissed you one last time before guiding you out of your office and pushing you towards your room. “Wait for me, okay? I want to take those clothes off you myself,”

You whimper and nod, turning around and quickly making your way to the bedroom. 

Bradley watched you until he couldn’t anymore, and then he turned and went back outside. Once he brought the last bag in, he pulled off his top and dropped it onto the kitchen floor, leaving it for Jake to discover later as he headed towards the room, planning to get you off in all the ways he’s done before, but this time by himself. 

He made you cum on his fingers, tongue and cock over and over again until you were crying for him to fill you up, and when he did, you kept him close for a long time after.

He whispered soft praises to you as you came down, a light layer of sweat covering the both of you as you held each other until you fell asleep. 

It was still early in the evening, but Bradley decided to let you have a quick rest after the bad morning you had with Jake. 

He pulled his jeans back on and made his way into the kitchen, pausing by the living room when he saw Jake sitting on the couch, Bradley’s shirt in his hand and an unreadable look on his face. “Hey,” the brunet greeted in a stiff voice. “Dick.”

Jake huffed as Bradley began walking again, and he followed him into the kitchen. “I know, I’m an asshole,” he muttered as he threw the shirt onto the barstool. 

“Yeah, you are,” Bradley agreed as he started to put away the groceries. 

Jake sighed and sat at the breakfast bar, green eyes full of guilt as he asked, “Is she mad?”

“No, she’s not mad,” Bradley answered with a humorless laugh. “But you hurt her feelings. Why are you such a prick to her sometimes? Do you realize how fucking lucky we are? Because I do.”

“I know, I don’t deserve her,” Jake said under his breath as Bradley shoved the bags into a bigger one and tossed it onto the top shelf in the pantry cupboard. “You’re so good to her, it’s hard to compete sometimes.”

“No one’s competing, Jake,” Bradley scoffed, grabbing his shirt and walking towards the laundry room. “If you haven’t noticed, she’s ours. All ours. She isn’t expecting us to one up each other all the time.”

Jake huffed again and leaned back. “Where is she?”

It was silent for a few seconds before Bradley came back into the kitchen, this time wearing a white muscle tee and a Hawaiian printed shirt. “In bed. Where I left her after ensuring her that she’s not ungrateful or a brat,”

“She thinks she’s a brat?”

“Yeah, she even apologized for it and didn’t want me to go off on you like you deserve,” 

“Fuck,” Jake groaned as he stood up. “I’m such a dick.”

Bradley nodded with a tight smile. “Yep,” then pointed in the direction of your room. “Go say sorry, then get ready. We’re going to the Hard Deck.”

Jake nodded, pushing past him and going down the hall where Bradley assumed you were still sleeping. He went back into your office as he heard Jake open the bedroom door, and he took the flowers and put them in a vase with water as he waited for you and Jake to kiss and makeup.

-

“Y/n?” Jake asked as he poked his head into the room. You were propped up against the pillows with a frown on your lips, and Jake felt his heart break a bit at the sight. “I’m sorry, sweet girl.”

You huff and look away as Jake enters the room and sits down beside you on the messy bed. “For what?” 

“Everything,” he answered and took your hand in his, surprised that you actually let him. He had to give it to him, Bradley was damn good at putting you in a better mood. “I didn’t mean what I said, honey. I was out of line, I’m sorry.”

You don’t meet his eyes as you shrug, and you looked so cute in the shirt he recognized as his own. “It’s fine,”

“It’s not fine,” he rasped, kissing the back of your hand repeatedly. “You deserve better than me, sweetheart. I’m so sorry for what I said to you. You’re not ungrateful, and you’re so good to me. I love you, you know that?”

You look over at him with a small smile. “I know,” you say quietly, lacing your fingers with his. “I love you, too, I just…I don’t know. Maybe I was acting like a bitch earlier, I’m sorry-”

Jake shook his head and moved to wrap his arms around you. “You’re not a bitch, sweetheart,” he promised and kissed your temple. “You’re so sweet, far too sweet for me, but I’m so glad I’m yours, honey. I wouldn’t have it any other way; you, me…and I guess Rooster.”

You laughed and leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Roo helped me feel better,” you pointed out and Jake sighed. 

“I know, and he shouldn’t have to do that. I shouldn’t be acting like a prick to you in the first place,” he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck before standing up. “Bradley’s an alright guy, I guess. He wants to go out tonight, so you and I need to get ready.”

You grin at him and crawl over to the edge of the bed. “Shower with me?” You sweetly ask as you hold your arms out to him. 

Jake smiled down at you as he effortlessly picked you up. “How could I say no to that?” He smirked as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I’ll do better, sweet girl. I promise.”

He knew Bradley probably wore you out while he was cheering you up, so he wasn’t planning on having a quickie with you in the shower. Instead, he massaged your hair and body as he washed you, telling you how much he adores and loves you as he did so. That alone gave him pleasure. 

And if you ended up in between both guys once you returned home, then that was just a bonus.

[paintpaintpaintman]

PLEASE tell us more about your kallamar! Im so curious about him 💙🦑

Anon, I'm so glad you asked! Join us for a little bit of Kallalore (down below!)

To be honest, I haven't thought about it too much. But I have some silly little quirks I have thought about!

He has a very good voice, as many aquatic folk tend to! His voice is something he's been proud of since the day he started humming. He thinks it is the most wonderous voice to behold, and many agree with the sentiment! How sad it is he can no longer hear it much.

2) He is a fashionable little (well, 200 some odd centimeters long) dude. He takes his outfits very seriously and collects all sorts of unique clothing items. This, in fact, charms the Lamb, and they will use a bit of their sheared wool (most goes to Berith) to hand knit him interesting and unique garbs. Kallamar is very proud of the fact it is really only he who wears such precious materials.

And, yes. That is eyeliner and yes he wears makeup to accentuate is natural beauty, though he doesn't much need it.

3) Kallamar is the Cult doctor, to no surprise. He spends the majority of the day lingering in the Healing Bay, putting his knowledge of pestilence to tend to all sorts of ailments. But, he does not do this alone. He has a very... interesting nurse, none other than Leshy. Leshy doesn't make a great nurse, but he does know more about the healing properties of Camellias than Kallamar could likely every learn, so it is good to let him hang around.

4) A really long time ago, Kallamar was born in a noble family. He's always been a bit prideful, but this flame was nurtured by a rich family.

He practiced fencing growing up. Because of this, sword arts have always been an intrigue to him, and he prefers a sword as his weapon of use.

Many sought his affections for many reasons. Money, skill, class, money- he learned to have a big ego.

Gifts were everyday occurrences, mostly as an attempt for parents to sway him to marry their kin, so he didn't bat an eye when a "crown" appeared... though this particular item had sook him independently, unaware to him.

It truly was a shame what happened. Nothing short of a kingdom, spreading a plague which destroys most everything in it's path, even to this day. A thriving area, now mostly populated by the jellyfish. He enjoyed keeping them around. He enjoyed the power more.