#i don't like walnuts and was not happy about the taste

[eros-ghoulette]

Eating ice cream

Swiss: Hazelnut tastes awfully bitter Aether: Aether: Swiss: extremely shocked That's walnut!!!!

[astroboots]

*oliver twists voice*

“Please sir may I please have some more?”

hamster steven 🥺 my little sister asks for updates all the time lol

Series Masterlist | Moon Knight Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist

Pairing: Steven Grant x female reader

A/N: omg nonny! this is the world's most effective way to make me write more Hamsteven content! How could I ever deny your little sister... and a Charles Dickens reference?!?!? Aye aye!

Summary: You try to create a special meal for Hamster Steven so he can regain some normalcy.

You will be the first one to admit that you spend way too much time on tiktok. It's a slippery slope, and ever since you looked up tutorials on hamster care tips, your FYP seems to have picked up on the trail and now every two videos you flick through is hamster related.

Hamsters in tiny teddybear hats. Hamsters put in elaborate escape labyrinths, Crystal Maze style. Hamsters being treated to miniature meals inspired by human meals.

The internet is a wild place.

There's a squeaky noise next to you on the pillow that interrupts you just as you are about to scroll onto the next video.

You peer up from your screen, to see the big shiny eyes of your boyfriend-turned-hamster, standing on his hind-legs, as he's staring back at you. You're not sure if it's just your imagination, but he doesn't look happy. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was giving you the stinkeye you for spending so much time on tiktok.

You glance up at the clock on the corner of your phone. 00:51.

Okay, maybe it's not just your imagination. You've somehow unwittingly spent more than two hours on your phone, without paying attention. Steven is definitely judging you for that.

"Sorry, Steven. I must've lost track of time," you tell him, and at your apology he lowers himself back on all four paws, waddling over to your chest and curls himself up on the curve of your breast.

It's become his favorite spot to rest... certain things don't change regardless of what form he takes.

You run two fingers over his head, stroking the soft fur and he seems to melt at the touch, the round shape of him going flat with relaxation. It's adorable. Steven has always been fond of having his hair stroked like a particularly cuddly pet.

It really does seem like certain things haven't changed much at all despite his transformation into a hamster.

... Except, that's not really true though is it.

In the past few days since Steven has turned into a pet, his limitations has been more than apparent. Because of his tiny size, he's in constant danger.

You had left the window open to air out the flat while you were cleaning, only to have a particularly menacing seagull make a dive for him and had to chase it out with a flyswatter so it wouldn't devour your boyfriend whole.

In his current form he's not quite able to do any of the activities that he normally enjoys, reading is out of the question, even if he could turn his own pages (which is difficult when you do not have opposing thumbs or no grip) you're not sure what his vision must be like, the letters must read gigantic to him.

He doesn't seem to particularly enjoy the yoghurt drops you got him from the pet store, and the enthusiasm he had at first for the almonds and walnuts you'd given him seems to be waning and on more than one occasion you've caught the wistful and longing gaze Steven has had on his expression when you sit down for a meal by the table that he couldn't partake.

But ramen doesn't really seem fit for a hamster's diet, so you could hardly give him a taste.

Poor Steven has had little to no normalcy left since his transformation and as the days go by and the solution to his dilemma isn't anywhere near in sight, you feel a pang of sadness for him.

Absentmindedly, you continue to pet his fur as you pull up your phone again and scroll through the videos when your eyes linger over the video you saw earlier of a hamster being treated to miniature spaghetti meal.

The video has a full on painstakingly detailed tutorial, step by step, on how to make the tiny meal. Cutting regular sized spaghetti into tiny lengths, Sizzling small portions of minced meat on the frying pan and huh... who knew that hamster are actually omnivores, and likes eating meat... you always assumed they were vegetarians. In the video, the person takes two cherry tomatoes puts them through the blender for the sauce and it all looks rather simple.

You look down at Steven in his hamster form, sound asleep on your chest. He's curled up into a little ball, his nose and whiskers twitching in his sleep as his hind leg kicks back in response to whatever dream he's dreaming.

Adorable as he is, the pang of sadness from before returns as your chest constricts. You want to give him a sense of normalcy after everything he's been through. However small.

Carefully, you scoop him up in the cup of your hands and place him gently on the pillow. Luckily Steven is a sound sleeper and sleeps right through it as you move into the kitchen to prepare the meal according to the video instructions.

There's leftover spaghetti in the fridge, saving you from having to boil it fresh. You forego frying any meat, because even though hamsters may be omnivores, your Hamster Steven is a full blooded vegan.

You also decide to forego the blender. It's late and you don't want to wake up Steven so instead you end up trying to smash up the cherry tomatoes with a mortal and pestle that leaves an absolute mess.

With your sad attempts at a culinary effort completed, you pick up the tiniest little sauce bowl you can find in the cupboard, as you start to plate up the spaghetti and mashed tomato sauce, topping it off with fresh basil that you had luckily picked up from Sainsbury the other day.

It looks nowhere as good as the video, just looks like wilted spaghetti with a tiny pile of crushed tomatoes rather than a miniature version of spaghetti bolognese. but you guess that's why you're an office worker and not a hamster content creator. You try to tease the spaghetti back into place with your fingers until it looks a bit more decent.

Better.

But it's still a long way to go from the special dinner that you had wanted to make for Steven to make him feel pampered.

Turning to the kitchen drawers, you try to find the small tea candles to set the mood. It's as near a romantic ambient as you are able to create for Steven.

Then you find one of the nicer dinner napkins stowed away in the back of the drawer and set the table. While you're at it you grab several sprigs of rosemary and whatever fresh herbs you're able to find in the fridge and set them in a shot glass that you use as an impromptu mini vase, for the bouquet of herbs you have gathered. You place down your creation in the middle of the table, then you stand back admiring your work.

Not too shabby.

Almost looks like a tiny hamster restaurant.

You return to your bed, where you had left Steven to sleep. Paws still twitching peacefully in his sleep when you gently wake him by picking him up, and set him on the table.

He blinks slowly and blearily, sleep still clouding his gaze, not fully taking in what you are trying to show him. It takes a few moments, until his eyes clear and then they go wide at the meal in front of him and he darts forward like a sprint.

His little paws grabs at the straw of spaghetti voraciously, as he slurps up the spaghetti, flecks of red sauce painting the fur around his mouth. He eats it with an enthusiastic frenzy, gobbling up the whole of it and drops it in his excitement only to round the plate and pick it up again to eat the remainder.

"Is it good?"

His head pops up to meet your face, with the tiniest of nods.

He squeaks happily, then he dives right back into stuffing his face and you can't help but smile.

It's a little moment of normalcy even in this craziness and that's good enough for now.

Dedications & Credits: To my lovely @guruan / @guruan-is-not-here who has finally been freed from tumblr jail. This chapter is dedicated to her because she sent me the cutest video of a hamster having a tiny bowl of pasta and sitting on a chair like it was a restaurant.

[prolix-yuy]

I have never, ever asked anyone for an ask before so I don't know any of the rules for these things. For the pairing, can we ask for a pairing like Marcus Pike x Jack Daniels x Reader (cause Double Agents is a Mood™️ and a Vibe™️) or like either of those Singular x Reader.

And it's ME, so obviously I have to choose "CHAOS and order" as the topic. Chaos is my middle name after all.

Also please feel free to make this as explicit as possible. I mean, as you'd like.

If I did this wrong and I should change something let me know because like I said I've never done this before, so it is to YOU - Tumblr Crush Bestie - that I am losing my ask virginity. Seems fitting! 😉

Aynsley. Oh Aynsley. You come into my house and ask for filth? For chaos? To be as EXPLICIT AS POSSIBLE?

I am happy to provide, my dear Tumblr Crush Bestie!

Sorry it's taken so gosh-darn long, these three were taking their sweet time figuring out the threesome twister game. I hope you enjoy!

Two Truths and a Lie

Pairing: Jack "Whiskey" Daniels x F!Reader x Marcus Pike

Summary: If you said you didn't want what these two men have in store, you'd be a liar.

Word Count: 6.3k (YOU'RE WELCOME)

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, m/m dynamics, mmf dynamics, breast play, biting, oral sex (m and f receiving), handjobs, brief rimming, use of anal plug, anal sex (m receiving), face sitting, PiV sex, everyone's bisexual, aftercare, dirty talking because I'm a slut for it.

Notes: I've been teasing this for so long and it's finally arrived! And I'm embodying the 'chaos' in the request by barely editing this. Should I have? Maybe. Will I deny us any of the filth these three get into? Absolutely not. Enjoy my lovelies!

The first time you lied you didn’t even know what you were doing. Barely speaking full sentences and you pushed a boy over in the playground. He was loud, mean, and you were so full of emotions your little body had to retaliate. But when the teacher came over and asked what happened, you lied.

“He fell.”

The boy was too embarrassed to admit it was you, ushered away by the teacher. And you basked in a new feeling that would grow to be your constant companion: the elation of getting away with it.

Now, much later in life, you’d perfected lying. You lied like you breathed. Tells well hidden, truths spread like jam on burnt bread, just enough to hide the taste. You didn’t want to be punished, or caught. It wasn’t about waiting for someone to call you out. Lying was a language you spoke fluently and without equal, and was a competition with only yourself as audience.

Take tonight, for example. You’d lied to your friends that you didn’t feel well enough to go out. You’d lied to the bartender about why you were here. You’d even lied to the Uber driver, who could care less why you were coming to a swank hotel bar this late at night. But that’s three unsuspecting participants and three more tallies on the invisible scoreboard. 

The truth, not that you’d ever say it, was that you were bored. Endlessly, achingly bored. If you had to listen to one more pregnancy story, or upcoming wedding plans, or theorize on whatever show everyone was watching this time, you might actually scream. So tonight you forewent the Mexican restaurant your friends love and came here.

The bar is lush in a way that makes you salivate. Burgundy velvet chairs flank dark leather Chesterfield couches, artfully arranged to create the illusion of privacy underneath the cathedral ceilings. Royal blue and black brocade wallpaper flanks you as you approach the bar, black walnut wrapped around a towering wall of liquor. The stools glint gold as you slide onto one, balancing delicately. It’s not until you put in your drink order and settle back that you see them.

Once you do, you’re not sure how they escaped your observation. Two men seated at a high top overlooking city lights, casually sipping from rocks glasses. One is clean shaven, short haired and neatly dressed. Corporate attire - a tidy suit, tie, crisp white shirt. His face is soft in the table’s candlelight, eyes crinkled in the corners enough to know he enjoys himself without reservation. 

The other man holds some of the same features - large hands swirling alcohol in his tumbler, dark hair and eyes, a broad build - but the similarities end with the confidence he’s exuding. His outfit is more cowboy chic, dark jeans and a gray suit jacket over a light pink shirt with a peek of suspenders under the lapel. His boots hook over a stool rung, tilted back as his companion leans forward. The smirk painting his face paired with his teasing eyes quirks a smile of your own. Definitely cocksure, and possibly for good reason if those tight jeans were anything to go by.

Then the cowboy reaches across the table and pinches the other man’s chin between his thick fingers, a softer look gracing his face. The other man flushes a light pink, eyes casting down as his smile turns bashful.

Suddenly you’re too hot, snapping your gaze back to your drink.

Not for you.

Not that you’d assumed either of them would turn their attention your way. They were both your type in a room with surprisingly few options, but the night is young, and your drink has barely been touched. You lift it to your lips for a small sip, letting the liquor burn in the way good sex can light you aflame (an experience you’d been low on lately) when a voice murmurs at your shoulder.

“Drinking alone?” 

The blushing companion is now at your elbow, respectful but close enough that it makes your skin tingle. He leans on the bar, nodding once to the bartender with a smile before redirecting his attention back to your purposefully neutral expression.

“For now,” you reply cryptically, taking a sip of your drink as you peek at him over the rim. His smile widens, a glint of teeth between soft, kissable lips. Shouldn’t have been fantasizing about a conquest tonight, now you’re too keyed in to a man who’s out of your league in several ways. 

“Would you like some company while you wait? My partner and I have a table,” he says as two glasses slide into his grasp. You shrug.

“My friends will be here soon.”

Liar.

“Of course. One drink.”

“Only one.”

Liar.

“As the lady wishes.”

One drink turns into two, your wits still about you but your attention pleasingly bewitched by the couple. Marcus, the one who approached, is an FBI agent specializing in art crimes, which you unabashedly question him about while the cowboy smirks in your periphery. 

“You can tell the difference between a fake and an original on sight?” 

Marcus chuckles into the rim of his glass, tongue peeking out to stop an errant drop. 

“Only the very bad ones. The good ones need analysis, imaging, carbon dating. But it’s amazing to see how far someone will go.”

His knee knocks into yours and remains there.

The cowboy’s name is Jack Daniels, which makes you scoff until he raises an eyebrow at you. He even works at a distillery, though he was a field agent in a past life. That’s how he and Marcus met, the mention exchanging fondness that makes you gaze into your own drink for distraction. He orders a round of Statesman as proof of his fine taste, and you have to agree it’s much better than the whiskey most men offer you as though you know nothing of liquor. 

He lifts his boot to catch on the low rung of your stool, opening the span of his thighs to you. If you didn’t know better you would think these two were…

“We have a question for you, darlin,” Jack says when the drinks run dry, pinning you with a smirk. You straighten your spine, chin lifted to pre-empt your refusal.

You didn’t want to see what these men might offer.

Liar.

“Marcus saw you come in and thought you were about the prettiest thing he’d laid eyes on. But I’m a little more discerning. I like women to be smarter than me.” You roll your eyes but he keeps on running that smooth Southern drawl. “Which you are. Clearly. So I’m gonna ask you this for the both of us, and it only goes for the both of us. Package deal.”

Your eyes dart between Jack and Marcus, observing their drastically different postures. Marcus is nervous, hands folded tightly in front of him, eyes locked on them as he worries at his lower lip. Jack, on the other hand, is a man negotiating a deal and has all the confidence in the world, though he’s tuned in to Marcus’ discomfort. You wonder briefly if this is how they work best, Jack taking the lead. The thought blares heat across your chest.

“What would you like to ask?” you reply cooly, even though your heart hammers so loud you’re sure they can hear it. It’s under control until Jack’s eyes flick down to your hand worrying at your glass. His gaze flits up - caught.

“We’d like to invite you up to our room,” Jack says simply, leaning back in his seat. Marcus finally tears his eyes from his hands and watches for your reaction. You smirk at them both.

“For a nightcap?” you ask innocently, but the dark humor that spreads over Jack’s face shakes your resolve.

“No, darlin, we’d like to invite you into our bed. If that’s favorable to you, of course,” Jack says, the game ping-ponging between you as Marcus watches. 

“I assumed I wasn’t your type,” you stall, interrogating yourself about the offer. Did you want to let them lead you away from here? 

You’re definitely not bored anymore. If anything you’re aching at the thought.

“You are,” Marcus interjects, pulling your attention from Jack’s intense stare. His face is open, eager, kind. He seems like the kind of man who wears soft sweaters and asks you how your day was and actually listens. What a pair they make. 

“I’d like to have an idea of what I’m getting myself into before agreeing to anything,” you say, but your voice is getting shakier by the minute. Marcus slides his hand across the table, fingertips lightly grazing the back of your hand. It’s grounding, comforting.

Electric.

“Safety for everyone, of course. Protection all around,” Jack says, speaking in a low voice that urges you to lean forward. It gives him the opportunity to graze his fingers along your thigh in a featherlight touch that burns you with arousal. “Marcus likes it when I take charge, but you’re our guest so whatever your comfort level is, we’ll respect. If you’d like to take a break or end it at any time, we stop.”

Then Jack leans in and destroys the final barriers between you and your decision.

“We both like to eat pussy, and will make you cum several times before fucking you. Marcus likes to be inside while I fuck him, but I’d like to feel you squeeze around me too. I won’t leave marks if you ask, but I like to use my mouth, and my teeth. Marcus wants to kiss you, often, and very thoroughly. He might be quiet now, but he’s vocal as hell when you get him riled up. I’m likely to never shut up unless my mouth’s busy.” 

Your breath is coming in quick pants now, Marcus’ fingers sliding along the back of your hand to open your fist and slip inside. Jack’s heavy hand on your thigh feels like all that’s keeping you held to the earth. Sensing your hesitation, Marcus leans in and breathes into your ear.

“Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You don’t hear your agreement over the rushing in your ears, but their twin smiles of satisfaction confirm it.

Staring into the mirror and psyching yourself up to leave the bathroom, you adjust your lingerie for the eighth time. Mauve lace clings to your breasts, your hips, just opaque enough to be pretty instead of lewd. In this moment you wish it was more exciting, more daring for these men who offered you a spot in their bed. How tame you must seem after all the bravado you showed in the bar.

You’re not ready for this.

Liar.

Gathering up your last bit of courage, you saunter into the hotel bedroom. You’d left Jack and Marcus there fully clothed, knowing smiles and the beginnings of flirty touches the last thing you’d seen. Now, you’re treated to a much more mouthwatering sight.

Jack is seated on the edge of the bed, jacket discarded and suspenders loose by his thighs. His shirt is messy and untucked, one final button around his stomach holding on for dear life after all the others abandoned their posts. His pants are open, and as you come to a stop you’re treated to Marcus’ deep groan as he swallows Jack’s cock to the base. His throat works as Jack tips his head back and sighs, hips gyrating a fraction against Marcus’ eager mouth. 

Fuck, it’s hot and drives a spike of arousal straight to your cunt. Marcus’ strong back, bare and rippling across Jack’s lap, begs for your fingers to dig into his meaty shoulders. You catch him palming at his crotch, big brown eyes opening to look up at Jack. He’s rewarded with thick fingers carding through his short brown hair, pulling back to breathe heavily on the tip of Jack’s cock before descending again.

“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” Jack rasps when you realize you’ve been staring too long. His hand extends to you, and for a moment you think it’s better to leave them to it. They clearly have history, and chemistry. You don’t belong here.

Liar.

You slide your hand into Jack’s, letting him lead you to sit beside him. Sinking into his side, he gives you the perfect view to look down at Marcus’ thorough deep-throating. His eyes drag up, and the hand gripping Jack’s thigh now comes to rest on yours. He’s firm but gentle, kneading the flesh there.

“I’d like to kiss you, sweetheart,” Jack whispers into the shell of your ear, dragging his lips just to your neck to press a featherlight kiss. You’re hesitant, but he lets you breathe against his mouth before leaning forward just enough to press your lips together. The wet mouth noises Marcus is choking out below you are a strange soundtrack to the sweetness of Jack’s kiss. He plies you with a few more, fuller, more forceful, before dragging his tongue over the seam of your lips. You part eagerly for him, meeting his full stroke with your quicker tongue. Jack groans into your mouth, the beginning of a smile curling against the corner of your lips. 

“Now him,” he says, leaning back and guiding your head down to Marcus. He slips off Jack’s wet cock, jutting thick and proud, and rises on his knees to take your head in his hands. There’s less hesitation here; you melt fully into Marcus’ kiss. Jack was right, Marcus kisses thoroughly, patiently, diving deep before pulling back to let you breathe. It builds a fire under your skin, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

Distantly you feel Jack’s thick fingers unclasp your bra, then his hands - callused in places that made you wonder if he was a real cowboy once - guide you to lay back on the bed. You part from Marcus with a small sigh, but Jack follows you down, the scrape of his mustache on your throat as he slips his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips. Settling on your back, Marcus’ hands slide under your knees and soon the smooth expanse of his back surges under your calves. 

“Look at this,” Marcus hums, stroking down your thighs. Jack hums in agreement as he slips your bra off, the cool air tightening your nipples. “Anything you don’t like, sweetheart?” Jack’s mouth distracts you as he blows across the swell of your breast, making your back arch at the sensation.

“No teeth,” you say, finally hazarding a look down your body at the men driving you to madness. Jack looks visibly disappointed, which makes you tug at his well-coiffed locks. “For him, not you.” Marcus breaks into a smile and honest-to-goodness chuckles between your legs, and Jack winks up at you before a slip of pink tongue wraps around your nipple. Any further instruction is wiped from your mind as you arch into the clever heat of his mouth, paired with the squeeze of his other hand around your neglected breast. His teeth graze your nipple, hips rolling involuntarily before getting pressed firmly into the bed.

“Can’t wait to taste this,” Marcus murmurs, and two fingers slide underneath the gusset of your panties, knuckles dragging through your folds. He leaves open-mouthed kisses below your bellybutton, dragging his nose down to smell you through the thin lace. You want so desperately to focus but so many hands pulling you apart so effortlessly has your eyes rolling up into your head and your body writhing. 

Finally, Marcus licks a wide path along your lacy slit as Jack rolls your nipple between his fingers and you keen out a desperate moan.

“Oh, baby, sounds like someone needs you to make her cum,” Jack teases into your neck, sliding his hand down and into your panties to tease your aching clit. Marcus is still licking along the lace, pressing his tongue at your entrance just enough that their touches light up every nerve carrying pleasure to your lust-soaked brain.

“Let me take these off you and get you all over my face,” Marcus purrs, lifting your hips to drag the last scrap of clothing off your body. They’re both still half-clothed and looking at you like a goddess draped across the bed, and it almost makes you balk.

Liar. It makes you even more excited.

Jack removes his fingers, sucking them into his mouth with a low hum while Marcus noses your inner thigh. You can’t stop your legs from trembling, but Marcus’ firm grip steadies you as he finally licks a slow path through your folds.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, arching into the pillows as Jack presses your hips back on the bed. 

“He’s good, ain’t he? Wicked tongue on him, and I swear he’s half fish, never needs to come up for air,” Jack teases, pressing his body against your side and stroking through Marcus’ short hair. He nips at your earlobe as Marcus begins lapping rhythmically at your entrance, his nose firm on your clit and his jaw bobbing against you. The waves of his tongue, the jolt of that hawkish nose, the dark pride simmering in his eyes as he watches you, all burn under your skin. Your orgasm is fast approaching, nipples tight and aching. Sliding your thumb over one, you coax the honey-sweet ache of arousal out against Marcus’ tongue. Jack notices and joins you, stroking his rougher ones over the sensitive buds. His cock ruts lazily against your hip, and you slide your hand around him to pump him in time with your rolling hips.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so good,” he praises, sinking his teeth into the top of your breast just hard enough that prickles of pain pull you away from your heady arousal. It slams back into you the moment he releases the sensitive flesh, laving his tongue over the indents his teeth left behind.

“C’mon baby, that’s it, you’re so close,” Marcus encourages between your legs, lips barely leaving before doubling down. His whole head rocks against your cunt, long licks and drags of his lips and nose and chin through your messy sex. He must be coated in you, thick and tangy across his clean-shaven face. If Jack did the same, he’d carry you in that perfectly groomed mustache.

That image, Jack with his mustache dripping with your release, tightens your core as Marcus urges your hips to roll against him, chasing your orgasm frantically as he growls into your cunt. 

“Give it to me, baby, cum on my face, I know you have it right there for me, fucking give it to me. Cum on me. Cum on me now,” he orders, and with Jack’s whispered “He’s been so good, cum for him sweetheart,” you’re tightening around Marcus’ head and shaking through a fucking full-body orgasm. Faintly you hear Marcus chanting, “Yes, yes, that’s it baby, that’s it,” and Jack purring a diatribe of, “Good girl, you’re cumming so good for us, look at that, fucking gorgeous.” The room fades around the edges, the boys all you can focus on. Marcus’ eyes are shining with triumph, wiping his face as he beams up between your legs. Jack hovers over you, pride and sinful promise in his smile.

“That was a very good one, Marcus. Gonna give me a run for my money,” he says, stroking your cheek as you try to come back to the real world from your sky-high journey. The comforting warmth at your side fades as Jack sits up on the bed, tugging Marcus by his hair. Blearily you watch them kiss, tongues peeking out from their pressed lips as Jack tastes you on Marcus. He reaches down and deftly unbuttons Marcus’ pants, shoving everything down to reveal his weeping cock. Jack’s palms it, nodding to Marcus who leans over just enough to spit on his own cock before Jack gives him a few slow, firm strokes. You can tell how much Marcus is affected, mouth dropping into an O as his eyes drifting shut. Jack indulges him a few passes more before pulling a condom out of his pocket.

“Fill her up, pretty boy, she’s been so patient.”

You prop yourself up on shaky elbows as Marcus rolls the condom on, hazy gaze kindling the remains of your orgasm into a new possibility. He slots his hips between your thighs, crawling up your body to kiss you with the remains of your taste on his tongue. Jack stole most of it, but you can still relish in your tang.

“I want to fuck you, baby, can I? I’ll stretch you out good first,” he asks against your lips, the head of his cock resting just on your mound. He fists it and draws circles on your clit with the tip, your spine pulling tight up under him.

“Yes, Marcus, want you inside me,” you gasp, but before he fits his perfect cock inside he pumps two gloriously thick fingers into your cunt, stroking at your velvet soaked walls before curling them wickedly.

“So tight. Fuck, Jack, you’re gonna love this,” Marcus husks, scissoring his fingers and swirling his thumb over your sensitive clit. 

“Want to show her what you’ve been hiding, handsome?” Jack asks innocently, but you see goosebumps raise along Marcus’ arms and shoulders when the cowboy nips at his ear, winking at you. “Reach back here, darlin’, and feel,” Jack instructs as you follow the path of his hand around Marcus’ hip. He guides you to the smooth base of the plug in Marcus’ ass, making him shudder when you press your fingers against it.

“He’s been waiting all night for this, would you let me fuck him while he fucks you?” Jack asks. You trace a finger around Marcus’ stretched hole and he drops his head to your shoulder with a choked groan.

“You want that, Marcus? Want to fill me while Jack fills you?” His stuttering breath warms your neck as he nods. Reaching back, you prop yourself up with a couple pillows so you can better watch, your hands cupping Marcus’ face as Jack slowly works the plug out of him. When his mouth drops open you stroke your thumb along his bottom lip, pulling his attention from any discomfort back to you. Marcus empties out a sigh when Jack pulls the sensible black plug from him and places it on the bedside table. He returns with a slim bottle of lube that he dribbles onto his fingers.

“Now Marcus, I want you to put the tip in her and get yourself good and hard while I slide into your pert little ass. Once I’m in and you’re settled I’ll set the pace. Don’t want you hurting yourself.” The gentle instruction warms your skin as Jack smooths his hands over Marcus’ back and sides. He nods and you stroke your fingers through his hair reassuringly.

“You’re gonna feel so good inside me,” you say, circling your hips against his cock as he fists himself again. 

“You’re beautiful,” Marcus whispers, and as he wedges just the tip of his thick cock inside you he presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder. The shallow stretch makes your toes curl, one of Jack’s hands massaging your calf as his mouth smacks against Marcus’ spine.

“Ready?” he asks one last time.

“Yes, Jack, please…”

The litany of moans and gasps Marcus litters onto your skin lights your arousal further aflame as Jack curses and pushes in. You’re enraptured by the concentration on his face, the tick of his jaw and swipes of his tongue over his lower lip as he thrusts shallowly into Marcus’ tight channel. You can feel every jolt in your cunt when he presses Marcus just a little further forward, burying himself just a little deeper inside you. It’s slow as cold molasses and driving Marcus to bliss. When he begins backing up against Jack you stroke his back, and Jack’s larger hand covers yours.

“Fuck, feel so full,” Marcus manages to say, and Jack leans over to kiss along his shoulders. Your mouth is already at the juncture of his neck, and Jack meets your lips with his own. Marcus turns his head enough to kiss you behind your ear, and to catch the hinge of Jack’s sharp jaw with a scrape of teeth.

“Okay sweethearts, I’m gonna fuck you now. Slow to start. Get our rhythm.” Jack then pulls back and thrusts forward hard enough to bury the rest of Marcus’ length inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, Marcus already being guided back out before Jack fucks him back into you. “Oh holy shit, ohhhh fuck, yes, please, oh fuck it’s so good,” you moan brokenly, Marcus cupping your cheek and pressing his mouth to yours. You open for him, his tongue plunging into you as he pounds your cunt over and over again. The wet slaps are offset by the slick squelches of Jack’s cock fucking into Marcus, timing his thrusts just right to let you both feel every ridge and vein inside and around you. 

“Fuck, you both are so fucking hot,” Jack grits out, one hand gripping your hip, the other Marcus’, as he set a faster pace. Marcus drops to his elbows and rolls his hips harder, snapping into you and back onto Jack. The quiet moans he was hiding before erupt into full-throated shouts, which Jack muffles by shoving his fingers into Marcus’ mouth. He drools around them, and when his glazed eyes meet yours you lick the back of Jack’s knuckles and over Marcus’ lips.

“Filthy girl, knew you were,” Jack pants. “You close, handsome?” 

Marcus nods frantically, eyebrows pinching and fisting the sheets as he speeds up from Jack’s rhythm to chase his orgasm. Jack chuckles before folding over you both, crushing Marcus to your chest.

“I’ve got you, baby boy.” With that Jack pounds into you both, Marcus buried so deep you can feel Jack’s thrusts nudge him against your g-spot. You grip their hair, Jack’s eyes locking with yours as he growls through each thrust. 

“Call him a good boy, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Marcus, you’re so good for me, feel so good inside. Cum for me like a good boy, Marcus.”

That’s all it takes, and Marcus is howling into your neck as Jack grinds deep. His cock pulses heavily inside you, the force of his orgasm shivering through his limbs as they lock and release. Finally he lets go, slumping his full weight onto your chest. Jack kisses the back of his neck, fingers stroking down his arms and soothing him through the aftershocks.

“You’ve got a way with him, darlin’, he rarely cums that hard,” Jack coos, sliding his arms around Marcus to guide him off. Rolling him to his back, Jack peppers Marcus’ face with soft kisses as he weakly throws an arm around Jack’s back. His other hand searches for yours, twining your fingers together as he blinks sleepily between you both.

“Shit, that was amazing,” he croaks, sending Jack to the bathroom for a glass of water and to dispose of the condoms. “C’mere, wanna hold you,” he adds, tugging you to curl up against his side. His hands roam your back, nose pressed against your forehead as his rapid heartbeat begins to slow. It’s oddly romantic, happy to give and receive this moment of comfort. But you’re sure it’s the end of the night, and you’ll be fine going back home soon.

Liar.

“Now darlin’, as good of a time as it looks like you were having, I don’t think you came,” Jack says once Marcus has had a good long drink and settled back into the pillows. 

“I had plenty of fun,” you say lazily, stroking Marcus’ chest as it rises and falls. Jack tuts and shakes his head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Told you I wanted to eat your pussy too. Come sit on my face and let me give you another. Then, if you’re not too tired out, I’ll have you sit on my cock too.” 

Heat races over your body, and Marcus unwinds you from his arms. 

“Go on, gorgeous, Jack’s tongue is a treat you should never turn down,” he teases. “I’ll be along as soon as I catch my breath.”

Sitting up, you scoot closer to Jack as a strange nervousness settles in. Marcus is so open and easy to read, while Jack’s expressions always seem veiled behind a layer of showmanship and bravado. You find yourself worrying that you won’t be enough for him, for what he wants.

“What’s going through that pretty head of yours?” Jack interrupts your racing thoughts as he strokes his palm up your thigh. You shake your head, forcing a smile on.

“Nothing,” you say, your voice catching in your throat. Jack chews on his lower lip for a moment, then wraps his arms around your waist and guides you onto his lap. Straddling him, you hover as he pets your hips, smooths your back, and noses your neck with a gentle kiss along your collarbone.

“If it’s nerves, honey, then know that I have been looking forward to tasting, and fucking you all night. I want your tits in my mouth, your pussy, your tongue. I want to devour you, you’re so delicious.” He guides your hips down to press against his cock, hard and hot as he slips the soft skin against your wet folds. “You cannot possibly disappoint me, I could cum from your voice alone.” 

“Jack…” you breathe, and he leans back, pulling you along with him. Once flat on his back he guides your nipple into his mouth, humming indulgently as he teases the bud with his fast tongue and harsh sucks. You arch into his mouth, the length of his cock grinding against your clit. Switching to the other one, he nips lightly and chuckles when you jolt against him. His large hands paw at your ass, spreading your cheeks and kneading at the supple flesh. He cracks his hand against one with a sharp slap, soothing it with a stroke after. You’re dripping on him now, grinding along his length.

“Perfect, sweetheart, now climb up and put that hot little pussy on my face,” he orders, and all self-consciousness drips away as you climb up his body. Before you settle around his shoulders he taps your hip and guides you to swing around so you’re facing his neglected cock, hovering over his greedy mouth.

“Want your hand around my cock while I eat you out,” he says before pulling you down on his face. 

No matter the thorough fucking you just endured, Jack’s thick tongue sends a shudder up your spine, needing to grab his wrists. He hums into your folds, faster flicks than Marcus against your clit.

“I’m gonna drink you down, darlin’,” he purrs into your cunt, canting your hips so he can better seal his pouty lips around your clit. Falling forward, you loosely stroke Jack’s aching cock, throbbing with need after being denied his orgasm. Letting a dribble of spit drip onto his length, you slick him up to take a tighter grip. When your fingers glance over the ridge of his head his stomach tightens, hips rocking up to meet your strokes. 

“Your cock is gorgeous, Jack,” you praise, leaning down to place a soft kiss on the tip. The groan he lets out vibrates against your sex, eliciting your own pleasured sigh as he slips his tongue inside you.

“He’s very good at using it,” Marcus says just next to your shoulder, sliding off the bed to kneel between Jack’s knees. He replaces your hand on Jack’s cock, urging you to sit back up on Jack’s face. He worships your breasts with soft sucks and nibbles, working you both up higher and higher. You can feel Jack’s movements getting sloppier, distracted gasps bursting between your legs when he takes a moment to bask in his own pleasure. You weave your hands into Marcus’ hair, scratching along his scalp as he kisses his way up your neck and back to your waiting mouth. 

“Mmm, sweetheart he’s not gonna last much longer, and I know he wants to cum in you too. Let me wrap him up and then you can fuck his cock.” Marcus takes a moment to tear open a condom as you shuffle down Jack’s body. His mouth leaves you with a parting lick to your back entrance, the ticklish sensation making you giggle and scratch your nails down his flexing stomach. When you’re hovering over his cock, Marcus’ hand on the base guiding Jack in, he sits up behind you. 

“Most beautiful thing I’ll ever get to experience,” Jack murmurs, plastering his chest to your back and wrapping his arms around you. He guides you down as Marcus steadies him in, filling you so differently but so completely. 

“Fuck, Jack, you feel amazing,” you croon, head thrown back against his shoulder. Marcus lifts up on his knees to kiss Jack, clever fingers petting at your clit as you lift up just enough to let Jack feel the drag of your tight cunt, then back down to his base to elicit a wanton groan.

“Darlin’, you feel like heaven. Don’t know how Marcus didn’t bust immediately.” Marcus nips his Adam’s apple and switches to mouthing at your throat, both of their lips dancing along the expanse of your sweat-slicked skin. Sandwiched between them, the slide of their bodies against yours is addictive, intoxicating, endless in the pleasure it brings. Your cunt clenches around Jack, and he chuckles darkly in your ear before snapping his hips up into you.

“There’s my good girl, so tight around me. I’m gonna fuck you as hard and long as I can, but fuck me if you don’t feel like the best thing I’ve ever put my cock in.” Jack grabs the back of Marcus’ head and pulls him back to meet eyes. “Lick her clit, pretty boy.”

You didn’t think your arousal could climb any higher, but looking down to see Jack’s length sliding in and out of you paired with Marcus sinking down to lick a stripe from the base of Jack’s cock to your clit almost kills you. Marcus’ boyish smile would be your gravestone if you didn’t remember to breathe.

“Holy fuck,” you choke out as he lays out his thick pink tongue to stroke over and over along your joined bodies.

“Damn right, you’re doing so good for us Marcus,” Jack grits out, pulling you down on his fat cock so you don’t bounce away from Marcus’ talented tongue.

“Could do better,” Marcus says thoughtfully, reaching for the bottle of lube. Slicking up his fingers, he slides his hand down to tease Jack’s rim.

“Fuck, baby, you know how I like that,” Jack groans, bringing a wicked smile to Marcus’ face. Kissing your mound, Jack tenses hard under you with a broken gasp. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck, yes baby, that’s fucking perfect, you keep your fingers right there while I cum in her. Just like that, sweet boy.”

Leaning down you grab Marcus by the jaw and devour him, teeth clacking briefly as you fill his mouth with your tongue. He whimpers below you before you part, lips spit-slicked and slacked.

“Gonna cum, sweetheart, Marcus you better…” Jack threatens but Marcus is already latching his mouth onto your clit, sucking hard and fast while his fingers flex inside Jack. The relentless grind against your g-spot, the ruthless pressure on your clit, the overwhelming ache that can’t build anymore before it needs to go somewhere washes over you, and you cum with a wail on these two gorgeous men. Jack follows as your walls flutter around him, with a litany of, “That’s it baby, your pussy’s so fucking good, I’m…oh shit, I’m cumming, M-Marcus baby don’t stop, don’t you fucking stop, oh shiiiiii…” You faintly wonder if Marcus came again before a spurt of hot cum against your calf answers your question.

The silence that follows, filled with gasps and panting and weak hands on skin, is the moment you dread. It’s the last moment before the peace and quiet in your mind fades, urging you to gather up your clothes and go before you say something or do something that will ruin this. But with Marcus wrapping his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder, and Jack pressed against your back, you have no place to go. 

“Thank you, darlin’, that was the most fun I’ve had in a long time, wouldn’t you agree?” Jack says, pressing a line of kisses from behind your ear to the curve of your shoulder. Marcus leans back and thumbs your chin, tired eyes and a loose smile.

“Definitely. Can we take care of you now, sweetheart?” 

Your eyebrows must have pulled up into a frown, because Marcus chuckles just a little and cradles your head.

“What, you thought we’d fuck you and make you leave?” he teases, and you have to school your face carefully. You didn’t expect them to be this caring, or kind.

Liar.

Then you didn’t expect them to want more than your body once they were through.

Liar.

Then what did you expect?

Marcus thankfully speaks, similar to that that soothing way Jack enticed you here.

“Well then, I’m going to take you into the shower to clean you up, and Jack’s gonna make the bed and join us after. Once we’re clean and hydrated, I’m going to put on The Thin Man and we’re going to get into bed together. If you’re not comfortable spending the night, I understand. But I - we - want you to. Not just because tomorrow morning I want to wake you up with both of our heads between your legs.” Jack slides out of you and holds you in his arms, nuzzling into the back of your neck. 

“I don’t…” you try to say, both men waiting patiently. “I didn’t expect this. I don’t know what to do now.”

Liar.

You know exactly what to do. 

Stay.

Marcus’ lopsided smile and Jack’s pressed into your skin are promises you never asked for, but would gladly accept.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ve got you.”

END

[qiutls]

TNGDH 009

Life is a series of burglaries.

At first, my life was stolen and I somehow survived, but then my human rights were stolen, then my wheel was also stolen. Now, even the shirt which I had hidden so well, has also been stolen. I don't have anything now to be robbed off of!

Is there a thief in my life. If there is, please go away.

It was clearly well hidden, I checked the way to it multiple times, even when I was in Sen's hand, I checked it again in order not to lose the way to it next time. I trusted the system's words, and hoped it could save the shirt, because it's a location I could use "Summon" in.

[ (・・= ・・) ]

Yeah, I know, it's not your fault. It's not like you tricked me into becoming a hamster, because you wanted me to take off the shirt.

The ones who found my clothes were none other than the magicians. As they searched for me at Kyle's request, they followed the flow of mana, and said they had found the clothes I had hidden in a place where traces of magic remained, albeit slightly.

I think the skill given by the system seems to be some kind of magic in this world, and the residue of it remained on the clothes I was wearing as the "Summon" was lifted.

Of course, those who would never dream of the existence of the system, seemed to believe that a deranged clothes thief entered the master's bedroom, but in actuality…

"I wish you could speak."

Kyle looked at me with a friendly look and soon sighed deeply. He continued to say.

"That's right. There's no way that you, who is as calm and kind as an angel, would've went out without a reason. Why did he try to steal you? Or was it a crazy thief, who took everything that he wanted, and you were just smart enough to find the shirt on your way back."

― Eek. [ What in the world are you saying? ]

I do know how to talk, you punk. And besides, I'm that crazy thief you're talking about.

Anyways, why is it even when you're cursing out a thief, you're still able to dish out silly praises like this. Can a hamster really be that smart?

"As expected, the thieves I first met were…"

No! No, calm down. Sit down. Are you going to beat them up? All they'll do is scream out of pain, they know nothing.

Anyways, my life hasn't improved one bit. Today, if I use the "Summon" skill, I'll still be naked. Thinking about it, the taste of rice, no, the taste of almonds is decreasing…

I smashed the walnut as hard as I could. Tuk. The walnut rolled down the slide and got stuck between the sawdust.

"Cashew Nut?"

Kyle who was about to run to the prison and hang the three thieves who had stormed into the study yesterday, quickly turned back to approach me.

He put me on his palm and began to stroke my forehead.

"Do they taste bad? Or do you not like walnuts? Should I change it to macadamias?"

Kyle rummaged through his drawer with his other hand, took out a macadamia and gave it to me.

I took a few bites out of courtesy, then he smiled brightly as if he had found a gold mine. But when I whose appetite disappeared again, stopped eating and pushed the macadamia away, he looked at me desperately with an expression of carrying all the burdens in the world.

"What's wrong with you? Why don't you have an appetite?"

Hey, who would be able to eat in this situation? I said I wanted to become human, I never said I wanted to walk around naked. I'm not Adam.

"What can I do to make you happy? If I knew how, I would spare nothing for it."

Ugh. That dedication. Such a gentle voice and eyes dripping with honey. If I weren't a mouse with a size smaller than a palm right now, I would be 100 times more romantic than you are now.

But actually, this fate is not as bad as I thought it would be.

I quite like how Duke Blake, who was said to be as cold as an ice field, petted me with a melting hand, and called my name in a warm voice. It's been a while since I received so much love for no reason.

Unlike me who was easygoing, Kyle seemed to be more worried than I thought.

"I don't want to lose you…"

He said with a deep sigh, I glanced at the book on his desk while winding myself around his palm.

< A magical beast's mana stone >

'When did you even get that.'

It seemed it took a great toll on him when the magicians said they couldn't feel any mana from me.

[ Magical beasts usually grow a heart during the growth process, and this heart is called a mana stone. Mana stones that finished forming are called 'nucleus.' When these stones are not able to form properly, the magical beasts are unable to live a long life. In severe cases, they die during the growth stage. ]

'Death… Was it that important?'

[ X_X ]

'Was there originally something like this?'

Of course, I'm just an ordinary hamster… Actually, I'm normal in a sense that I don't have a mana stone, I'm still a little unusual by the fact that I can turn into a human. But for Kyle, it was natural for him to think that my situation is a lot more serious than it looks like.

"Don't worry. It says that if you periodically inject magical power until the end of growth period, not only will it be able to live a bit longer, it will also become less feral."

Come on. Don't inject anything. I won't become feral, and I won't die. What if you inject something in me and side effects come out?

"I will do my best to take care of you. It is already too late to send you back to the wild…"

What are you talking about! If you throw me back to the fields, I'll spend 23 hours and 30 minutes in the body the size of a mouse poop and I'll become a snack for other demons for the next 30 minutes.

"What a strange thing. I've conquered the North with thousands of beasts, yet I'm worried to death by a child of those beasts."

I know, thanks to you, I can't get used to it either. Who takes care of a hamster like this.

But seeing that I don't hate him that much, it means that I seem to have some affection for him.

All my life, I've lived and done everything alone and it made me sick and tired. How can I not like someone who appeared so suddenly and treated me kindly for no reason at all.

"I don't think you've drank water all night, and you don't even have an appetite… Hmm?"

Kyle tapped me on the nose, and looked as if he wanted to shower me with kisses but afraid of causing me more stress, he resisted the temptation.

That's right, don't kiss me more than 10 times a day okay? 10 times is too much.

By the way, it's a misunderstanding that I'm not thirsty. I just chose not to drink from the water bowl because, I ran around so much yesterday and as soon as I came back to the house, I washed my feet in it. The truth is, I'm actually quite thirsty.

But I can't drink the water which I used to wash my feet in! It feels like licking the floor.

Forced to remain silent, I couldn't do anything but look up at him. Seeing me staring, he contemplated for a moment, then called the knight to bring up Sen.

"Starting from today, I want to feed it other snacks aside from nuts, do you know what food other rodents eat?"

A new diet? Sounds good. I'm looking forward to Serena's excellent answer. Serena, please be nice to me.

Can you say beef? Ah, or is that too much? Then how about, pork? Duck meat? Even chicken is fine? What else is there huh? Sheep, lamb? Maybe shrimp or fish… Whatever it is, I like it. Give me lots of delicious food!

It's about time that we change my diet. I was just thinking how I'm still as small as I am because of malnutrition.

So, protein.

Give me protein, okay?

*

"I think mealworm would do, Your Highness."

… Wait no! That's not true!

"Or crickets? If you want to train it, it would be better to feed it a barely alive cricket so it can try to hunt. That's the best meal for hamsters, so wouldn't it be the same for Cashew Nut?"

"All right."

Don't listen to it so seriously, you crazy man!

Sen fixed her glasses with a serious face and gave Kyle a menu or something. He listened to the report with an impressive face as if he had seen the discovery of the century.

What are you two doing…

"Nuts alone are not enough. You should also think about giving it fruits, and since its currently at growth period, it's best to give it protein."

"That makes sense. I'll entrust this matter to you with full authority, so prepare everything with the highest quality, okay?"

No, it's not okay!

You crazy people, what do you mean crickets. No! I hate it! I won't even touch it with my mouth. If you feed it to me, I'll scream and faint.

"We are officially starting the festival this evening, so I might be a little busy… I'll be going now, so I can come back early in the evening."

Kyle held out a pocket full of money without hesitation.

"You don't have to be thrifty, buy everything and what's left is yours."

Sen answered one more time.

"I understand, Your Highness, I'll buy everything to the point where it feels that the money might be insufficient. Although it's a bit hard to buy everything in the North, I think I may be able to get everything because of the festival!"

"All right, that's good. I'll ask the chef to prepare as well."

You two play really well huh. I'd rather go out and leave the room than see you two go at it.

[ Miracle value has risen! ]

[ Current miracle value: 7% ]

The miracle value suddenly increased, it seems that the relationship of the two in the original book which was stuck in abyss had suddenly improved.

That's right, I can only live if Kyle lives, and to make that happen, we need to prevent Serena from holding a knife towards Kyle, just like the original novel.

Whatever it is, continue to be on good terms, okay?

Just don't buy me a mealworm!

*

― Squeak! [ Put it away! ]

Do you have wheels on your feet? How could you buy hamster food so quickly! You said you'd only buy the best! Shouldn't that take you around a few days!

I jumped up and down at the sight of worms in the bowl.

"Look at this, Your Highness, does it not seem like he likes it a lot?"

Kyle's face brightened at Sen's words.

It's the opposite, you punks! Aren't you going to clean it up right now? Do you want to get hit with a mealworm? Don't look at me with anticipation, I'm not gonna eat this!

I ran away in hurry, and when I got stuck in the slide, I looked back and saw Kyle picking up crickets with tongs and placing them close to me.

Hey, you bastard! Don't put them close to me! Ack! They're alive! Please stop!

Do you want to die? Aren't you gonna put them away!

Please, help and save this hamster!

You punks, you'll see.

When I turn human, I'll make sure to get revenge.

novel ⠀✿⠀ next

[luvxiem]

sandcastles

[ INFO ]

✧ word count: 1k

✧ pairing: past vox akuma x gn!reader, implied luca kaneshiro x gn!reader

✧ genre: angst, forgiveness, exes au, ambiguous breakup (the reason was never mentioned but nobody is the villain here), bittersweet, hurt comfort (?)

✧ summary: you run into a familiar face at a coffee shop from your past that you never thought you would see again.

it feels a little like coming home.

the cafe is largely empty with the few patrons it has focused on their own conversations or their devices. golden rays spill through the blinds and bathe the store in a soft haze.

warm steam rises from your coffee as you rest your hands on the walnut table, fiddling with the ring on your right hand. the gleam of silver from his left is a stark reminder of how different he is now—how different you both are.

vox places his cup down gently on the table after taking a long sip from his tea and hums. you take a moment to admire how he looks—his hair is shorter now, no longer reaching past his shoulder, and delicate wire-frame glasses sit on his nose. the red tassel earring was replaced by something a little smaller, a little subtler, and yet even with these little changes, he's still the man that you once knew. the man that you once loved.

he still bounces his left knee and cracks his knuckles with his right hand, he still swirls his tea around before tasting it, he still carries onigiri around by his belt loop and he still wears that black beaded bracelet.

and suddenly it's easy to remember the years that you've spent together. the many kisses and hugs and promises of devotion on rainy nights under warm blankets. the cold dinners and unread messages and quiet tears after midnight.

vox speaks up first.

"how are you?"

it's an easy question—one you've heard a countless number of times throughout your life and yet this one feels just a little more loaded—as if dozens of unspoken words laid underneath those three.

are your coworkers still bothering you? don't skip meals. i hope you're happy.

"i'm doing okay."

we get along now. i still forget to eat sometimes. i hope you're doing well.

“that’s good to hear.” vox offers a small smile—something a little unsure yet meaningful—the corner of his lip quirking up just like how you remember.

there isn’t much else to say. it’s difficult to come up with words that feel appropriate for the situation—of an engaged man meeting his ex-lover, one that he thought he would’ve married some day. a life of hushed laughter and broad smiles, of little ones toddling around in a spacious home and warm cuddles in front of a fire.

you cast a lingering glance at the ring adorning his left hand before looking up to meet his eyes.

“congratulations, by the way,” you say, and you pray that your smile looks genuine.

vox's lip quirks up at your words, his gaze lowered to his lap as he tries to figure out what to say.

“for what it’s worth,” he starts, gnawing on his lower lip. “for what it’s worth, i’m sorry.”

four years ago you would’ve killed to hear those words from him. a younger, angrier you who hid behind shaded blinds and alcoholic drinks in an attempt to forget. but you've grown, and with that growth came the realization of your own faults. the foundations of your relationship crumbled due to neglect on both sides.

you're sure the look on your face shows your regrets well.

"thank you, and i'm sorry too. i wasn't exactly the perfect partner either—i'm not good at communicating my needs. i'm working on it."

vox hesitates before speaking up once more.

"are you... are you seeing anybody?" he asks, looking up. you nod.

"i am. he's... very kind. and sweet. my parents love him."

"i'm glad to hear that." and you believe him.

"are you nervous?" vox's eyebrow raises in mild confusion. "about your wedding, i mean. did you figure out a date yet?" you clarify.

"ah," vox nods in understanding and looks back down, fiddling with his ring.

"we decided on november, hopefully it won't be too chilly." there's a pregnant pause before he speaks again.

"i'm scared," he whispers, eyebrows furrowed and left fist clenching atop the table. "i don't want to mess things up."

like i did with us.

his admission hurts a little, old wounds resurfacing alongside the memories of a time now past. but with his admission comes a wave of acceptance. perhaps this meeting was exactly what you needed—what you both needed.

"you shouldn't let your fears hold you back from finding happiness," you start, waiting for vox to look up. when his eyes meet yours, there's a hint of something in them that cements your resolve. "because if you love them as much as you loved me, then i think you'll be okay."

golden eyes widen at your words and he throws his head back as a soft laugh slips from his lips.

it feels a little like forgiveness.

"you're right," he breathes, and when he looks at you again, he looks a little brighter, as if a weight was suddenly lifted off his shoulders.

"i hope you allow yourself happiness as well. i hope you're treating yourself kindly," he says, and something inside you chips away at his earnest expression.

and maybe you can admit that you're not fully there yet. maybe there are still bad days amongst the good ones, and maybe there are still times where you can't seem to smile, guilt weighing down on your bones with every yearning gaze from violet eyes. the fear of losing soft blonde hair and warm hands keeping you up at night, tracing tattoos under the moonlight with a heavy heart.

but you'll get there. and maybe it won't be for another week or a month or a year, but you will. and maybe one day, you'll have a ring on your left hand that has a pair worn by another.

"thank you," you say, and you can only hope that he knows the depths of your feelings. vox gives you a knowing smile before checking the time on his phone.

"gotta run?" you ask, and he nods.

"we're supposed to check the venue today," he explains. the two of you stand, tossing your empty cups into the trash as you exit the cafe.

there's a pleasant breeze in the air and the smell of fresh bread from the bakery across the street fills you with warmth. you turn to face vox and offer him a small smile.

"it was nice seeing you," you say, and this time, when you say goodbye, your heart feels full.

[ WRITTEN 230803 ]

[sichore]

23 combined w/or 20 for Pickles and Jimi!!!

[23. Write about your ship supporting each other through a hard time.

+

20. Write about your ship sneaking a romantic moment together.

Y'all are getting a preview of Dethmas: Director's Cut baybee!!!]

"Honestly, they've got all the money in the gahddamn world but don't even have one can opener? Ugh!" Molly huffs in frustration as she continues to slam through drawers.

Jimi opens one on her end and finally finds the prize, liifting it up for the older woman. "Oh, hey, I found one–"

"Ope, there we go." And Molly snatches the device from Jimi's outstretched hand, immediately attacking the canned pineapples.

Jimi catches Pickles' eye, again, and he gives her a slight shake of his head, lips pressed into a firm line.

"Honestly, Jamillah –"

"For the last time, Mom, it's Jamila–"

"Ja-MEE-la." Molly rolls her eyes, aggressively dumping the pineapples into a bowl. "Didn't I teach you not to interrupt a lady when she's talking? The nerve. Anyway, Jamila, it's nice having someone who knows how to follow directions in the kitchen for once. Yer honestly too nice to be hanging around this silly little band."

"This is the opportunity of a lifetime for me." Jimi says, forcing a casual tone into her voice, keeping her eyes on her hands as she sets up her cutting board and knife. "And I'm glad to be here. Did you want the pecans or walnuts for this one?"

"Walnuts, dear, pay attention. Still! Goofing off with these ruffians all day with yer pictures and all that. What would your husband think?"

Jimi tears open the bag of walnuts with a little more force than necessary, takes a deliberate breath, and meets Pickles' eyes again. He fidgets, now, tugging at the left sleeve of his sweater, soon averting his gaze.

"I mean, assuming yer married n' all. If not, that'd be pretty sad, as you're not so young – actually, wait a minute now." Molly pauses in stirring together her slime green concoction (so that's what the pistachio pudding was for?) to lean over and look at the painter's left hand. "Ah, well then," she sniffs at the lack of a ring, and dumps in the marshmallows.

"I'm happy where I'm at now," Jimi says with measured patience, slowly chopping the walnuts.

"You really should think about it," Molly's voice is a bit further way, and soon Jimi hears the hiss of the refrigerator door opening, then shutting with a thud. "I've already long given up on Connor giving me any grandkids – well, unless he's got any rascals running around, but I doubt it. Never could keep a girl long enough to–"

Jimi's knife comes down with much more force than necessary, and this time, she doesn't hide how she has to stop and take a deep breath. "Or maybe," she says slowly, "Pickles is very particular and hasn't found the right partner to meet his standards. Not everyone has to settle for the first thing that's given to them."

"Yeah, Mom. You have any idea what kinda PR nightmare a marriage would be? It takes someone real special to put up with that pressure." When Jimi looks up, Pickles is no longer slumped over on his stool, but sitting straight up. Looking at Jimi directly. "I wouldn't choose just anyone."

"Sounds more t'me like you just lost yer chance a long time ago." Shaking her head in disgust, Molly takes the chopped walnuts from Jimi to add to her bowl. "You still like coconut in this?"

"No, Mom, I don't."

"Since when?"

"Since never."

Molly tsks, stirring her – salad? Dessert? Jimi has no fucking clue anymore. "You are so disagreeable now, can't listen to nobody since you got all this going on. Should've found a nice girl like Seth did, that'd straighten you out–"

"Hey, Pickles, didn't you have some demos for me to listen to before I go?"

"Eyep, sure do!" Pickles slams his hands on the countertop as he stands, swiftly making for the exit. "Sorry, Ma, gotta work!"

"You haven't even done a taste test–"

"See you later, Molly!" Jimi tosses back, already halfway across the kitchen, skin crawling as she feels Molly's judgmental stare follow them. It doesn't fade until they're well out of view and down the hall, Pickles gripping her arm, almost dragging Jimi to keep up with his hurried pace.

He doesn't stop until Jimi tugs back, tugging him into some grandiose-but-empty room like the many dozens scattered throughout Mordhaus. He doesn't stop, until Jimi presses him back against the closed door and holds his face in her hands.

"Baby, baby, hey," she urges, voice hushed and low. "Look at me. Breathe."

The last thing Pickles needs is an asthma attack. His cheeks are tinged red with anger, but he listens, taking big, shuddery breaths, closing his hands over Jimi's wrists. She stays with him, breathing with him, until they breathe as one, calm and collected.

Jimi's thumbs rub against those delicately freckled cheeks, offering a smile to the moss green gaze locked on her. "You didn't have to come with me back there."

"You don't know how she is." Pickles starts to shake his head, but Jimi holds him still, and he inhales. Exhales. "I wasn't gonna just let her talk to you like that."

"I know." Now Jimi finds her own gaze dropping, to their equally garish sweaters, to their feet. She thought she'd be used to dealing with women like Molly, but given the circumstances... of course, this would be different. A lot more uncomfortable.

And painful, judging by the abject misery radiating from Pickles. His head drops to her shoulder and his arms wrap around her, his weight fully against the door behind him.

Jimi leans into him, arms sliding around his waist, and waits. The silence is never truly silent, their hearts beating in tandem to fill the void. She closes her eyes as Pickles settles, until his misery folds in on itself and is once again tucked away into a place Jimi can't reach quite yet.

She turns her face to press her cheek to his chest. "... We gonna tell her?"

His arms tighten around her. "I... I dunno."

They stay like that for minutes, hours, eons. As usual, time is insignificant when it comes to the two of them.

Eventually, Pickles pulls back, brushes a stray curl from Jimi's face. "Y'know, Jim..." His eyes drop, and he pointedly pauses.

Which makes Jimi blink at him. "What is it?"

"Huh." There's a distinct shift in the air between them. Pickles' hands brace around her ribcage, and move up until he's cupping her breasts. "Yer tits look fuckin' huge in this."

Jimi's mouth falls open. "What–"

"Seriously, are they bigger? Is there somethin' yer not tellin' me?"

"Oh, my god, stop! It's just..." She can't stop the giggles that spill out of her, increasing at Pickles' pleased little smirk. "It's just a thing that happens when I wear sweaters, I dunno!"

"We should get you in 'em more often," he muses, leaning in to kiss her cheek. "Or maybe out of 'em, I can't decide." He kisses her other cheek, sliding one hand beneath her sweater and over the bare skin of her belly.

Jimi, predictably, expectantly, shivers. "You're such a horndog."

"Nyeh hehehe." He just chuckles, continues to rub calloused fingertips over her skin. "You love it." And he tilts his head to kiss Jimi properly.

This is how it should be, always. Jimi glimmers and gleams as Pickles wraps around her in seven ways, crimson and content. He pulls back just before Jimi begs for him to sink his hand into her chest and please, please grasp her heart once again. As usual, yearning for that oneness, that completion.

"It would've only been you," he murmurs against her lips. "Ya know that, right?"

"I do." Even if Jimi the mortal still struggles with that truth, sometimes. Jamila, luminescent and eternal, has always known. She trails a finger down freckled cheek and scruff, sighs when he captures her fingertip between his lips. "But I could always use a reminder.

[Soft OTP Prompts]

[dootznbootz]

Eh, have some Odyssey headcanons

This is nowhere NEAR all of them as I like "revealing" headcanons while writing. I'm also just a very "fluffy" person so heads up! :D

Mentioned it in a different post but Odysseus is very affectionate with his loved ones (overtly so. almost demanding in how he'll just kind of drape himself across you) Even as a kid he was like this. Often just hugging them and/or climbing up them to cuddle. It skyrockets with Penelope, as he was overwhelmed with emotions for her when they first met and that hasn't stopped. Lots of little kisses and nuzzles and cuddling. Almost always clinging to her in some way. He's strange about being touched with basically everyone else though. While he's still caring for his friends, you never know if he's fine with a hug or not. Often times he'll just give you a look of "Don't even think about it" mostly at poor Menelaus as I headcanon him as the most physically affectionate. Lots of slaps on the back and big hugs He's a little hot and cold like that

Adding to that, with Penelope, with said little kisses that he gives a lot of, he's fine with "losing" or "yielding" to her with everything but that. He's always trying to "have the last laugh" or you know, the last affection. He's perfectly fine admitting defeat to her with everything else but this. It's probably something he doesn't even realize that he does. He loves being doted on and pampered by her but also unconsciously thinks "you're getting smothered. As soon as you stop moving your hands through my hair. I'M gonna smother you" Get adored, Penelope. (●♡∀♡) I am living vicariously through these dummies.

Laertes always had a "green thumb" even before he left the palace to work in the fields. He always liked plants. If you know how J.R.R. Tolkein writes, basically nonstop about ferns and undergrowth and such, that's Laertes. If you go on a walk/hunt with him, he'll often just look at plants and be happy and likes to study them. He was very picky about how plants are arranged on the property. He's a bit more quiet and "gruff".

Odysseus definitely mostly takes after his mother in almost everything. Her humor and mischief, her looks, even learned to woodcarve from her. She and Penelope get along great and she's definitely the "life of the party". (it's MY headcanon and I can do what I want!!!) While Laertes loves his trees and plants, it's even better when he can share that knowledge and passion with his wife who creates something entirely new with that plant (aka wood). "That's walnut you know. Did you know it blahblahblahblah".

Ctimine actually takes a lot after Laertes but mostly in the "kind of quiet" way but she's the type to make one-liners that make everyone in the room laugh. (that she gets from her Mother. I actually want Laertes to be kind of awkward lol) It's a "she doesn't talk much but when she does. You should listen because she's fucking funny." She actually likes plants as well. (as a child she would find out what stuff tasted horrible and then dare Odysseus to eat it. And ofc he did it basically every time. "Eat a raw Olive, idiot. >:) " ) and probably was more into herbology and its uses. When Odysseus comes back, she and Laertes want to know every detail of the Lotus and the Moli Root.

Penelope has a sweet tooth! Also, I have her quite short despite being a Naiad as I have a headcanon that like a lot of fish, water nymphs grow to the size of the body of water they're in. Or in this specific case, BORN in. Penelope was born in a creek/stream🥲 Her mom dove into the nearest source of water and that was it. (kind of goes along with her duck myth) She also canonically says the most out-of-pocket shit (remember the sneeze of death???) she's a "weird girl". She has been "weird" since the beginning. Weird girls are hot as fuck, you cowards!

Penelope: One time, I fell asleep at the bottom of the river and I woke up to a catfish trying to eat my arm. Mom and I killed it and ate it afterward. Odysseus, twirling his hair and giggling: You showed that catfish who's boss. You're so hot. Please be my wife

(That's all you're getting on her. The Wife of all time will be getting her own headcanon post all to herself because she deserves it. I am doodling lil hearts around her face. *I am shot by Odysseus*)

This'll probably be my most unpopular one but yeah. Odysseus isn't the shortest of the Achaean kings. He's actually taller than average (great grandchild of Hermes genes and his mom is tall. Laertes is shorter.) and while shorter than the other kings. The title of the shortest goes to Diomedes. I love the thought of this absolute killing machine being the shortest in a "He's small? What can he do?" and then he just fucks everything and everyone up. He's a chihuahua. Small, full of rage, "loud of warcry", and always wanting to fight. >:)

That's all for now. Honestly, thank y'all so much for being so sweet. It really means so so much. I was kind of afraid I was too "fluffy and soft" to make content for the Odyssey fandom as while yes, they've all done monstrous actions and I definitely still plan to have them steal, lie, barter, fight, etc. I kept getting worried if I was just making shit too soft you know? Too fluffy. Too "romantic". I have him sneak into a garden and cut someone's flowers for his wife but would he even do that?? Is that too nice of him?

I wear my heart on my sleeve and in my writing, I'm the same way. :D Just how I am! And I'm having fun!

[sherlock-is-ace]

get to know me!

I was tagged by my dearest @taste-thewaste thanks for the tag and welcome back cutie!!!! I got so excited to see you in my notes :')

Last song: The song from the animatic I'm making. On repeat, so I can figure out this shit lol (idk if I want to share which song it is just now kjdfhgkdfg)

Last film: Probably Barbie? I don't remember, I haven't watched a movie in so long kjfdhgdfg EDIT: Actually no! I watched Marry My Dead Body after that! dkfjgfdg I just remembered that it has the exact same plot as a story of mine lol

Currently reading: Nothing... I don't read as much as I'd like to (and I suck at finishing books

Currently watching: His Dark Materials at lunch with the fam. Natsume Yujin-Cho at dinner with the fam. And I just finished Queer Eye by myself at night, trying to fins something new to watch tonight.

Currently consuming: Water?

Currently craving: The walnuts I bought to make brownies with for my brother's birthday... Trying real hard not to eat them now lol

Were you named after anyone? Nope, I named myself cause I like the name (it's a bit more complicated than that but that's the idea)

When was the last time you cried? Sometime this week I think, but I can't remember when. It was probably anxiety induced. I did tear up watching Queer Eye tho

Do you have kids? Hell no!

What sports do you play/ have you played? I played volleyball at school

Do you use sarcasm? Not as much as I used to

What’s the first thing people notice about you? My dysphoria inducing hips and ass? My hair that never looks put together? Who's to say?

What’s your eye color? Brown

Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings! I don't like scary movies, life is already too scary and there are not enough happy endings

Any talents? I don't think so? I can roll my tongue and also flip it upside down... is that anything?

Where were you born? Argentina (and will sadly, probably die here too)

What are your hobbies? Drawing (tho also my job), writing (more like thinking about writing), watching youtube?

Do you have pets? Yep, my doggy India who I love very much!

How tall are you? 165cm maybe more if I fixed my shrimp-like posture

Favorite subject in school? Art, english (as a second language)

Dream job? Children book illustrator. Perhaps even author-illustrator👀

Tagging: @beartrust42 @aliceat97point3 @tabelschnasse @actual-changeling (feel free to ignore, ofc <3)

[dream-meister-translations]

ONSEN VILLAGE CUIT - VOICE COLLECTION

━

"How are you feeling? Even if you love your job, you shouldn't push yourself too hard."

"I heard there is a drinkable hot spring called "Ganbakuyu," I wonder what it tastes like."

"Are you getting your regular health checkups? There's a chance you'll catch something like me. So, be careful on a regular basis."

"Ugh…I'm stuck in another health checkup…"

"I know this is a vacation, but when I'm with you, I just feel like cooking for you! Your happy face is way too cute.

"To have you all to myself like this…I'm so happy I'm almost scared."

"The setting sun is so beautiful, but you are even prettier than the sunset..I dunno~ Maybe I'm just being coy."

"Can I hold your hand? I've always wanted to be closer to you."

"I'm sorry, I'm really nervous right now. To have you this close to me? I feel like I'm going crazy."

"Hm..It's onsen manju…Seems there are many different kinds, so if you don't mind, I'd like a moment to compare them."

"The "Kayuyu" hot spring was amazing. It's a hot spring that heals you with it's scent. Have you been in it yet?"

"I like hot springs that are fun to look at with flowers and fruits floating in the water~"

"Maybe one day I'll get to go in a hot spring with Kuchen and Riche…I'd love to see them laughing."

"Gran has a lot of old wounds, right? I wonder if the World Exploration Guild has a lot of dangers…I'm getting anxious now."

"I asked Gran to draw a picture of bread the other night. His living pictures are so amazing. It really looked edible!"

"I couldn't help but notice Cyrus' body when we went to the hot spring together. He's a knight, so he's got a lot of muscles… I kinda admire that type of body."

"Cyrus asked me about tsubo-yaki in detail, but it turns out it wasn't about cooking, it was about jars."

"Cyrus probably likes walnuts."

"Come to think of it, you said that Cyrus also has a brother and that he's a twin? I'd like to meet him someday."

"People with siblings close in age have a lot of lively conversations. I bet Cyrus and his brother have tons of good memories."

"Your complexion looks better than usual, maybe all this rest and relaxation is to thank!"

"Huh, you look hungry. Maybe we can borrow the kitchen later and I can make you something."

"I heard there is a popular Japanese restaurant around here, would you like to try it? There will be a long line, but we can keep each other company."

"Aren't you tired of walking? Shall we stop by the footbath and head back to the inn?"

"Hm…I still haven't been able to choose souvenirs for my brothers yet…This might take a little while, do you mind helping me?"

"That tickles~ You know, you better watch out, if you keep spoiling me like this I'm gonna get addicted."

"Mm…It's so cozy, I could just fall asleep."

"Thank you. That felt really good. Now it's my turn to comb your hair. Stay still."

"Wow, your hair smells sooo good! It's just the shampoo from the inn? I'll have to try some when we get back."

"I think I did a pretty good job combing your hair. You look cute as always."

"Whoa! Haha, ahaha! Hey stop it! That tickles!"

"Stop! Stop! STOP! Haha, ahaha! I haven't been tickled like this since I was little!

"Haha, ahaha…It's been a long time since I've laughed like this…"

"It's okay if we sweat, we can always go back and take a bath after."

"Do you think there is a hot spring that can make you more ticklish? …I regret asking."

"I wasn't sure what I was gonna do on this vacation, but thanks to you, I'm having a great time."

"Even if we don't go to the hot springs, just having you by my side makes me feel better. Heheh, guess I'm a simple guy."

"Is it the hot spring or you that smells so sweet and delicious~?"

"I get so nervous and my heart can't stop beating when I'm with you…Oh God, did I just say that out loud? Maybe it's an effect of the hot spring."

"I feel like I'm healed just by being with you…Can I maybe hold your hand?"

"Truth is, I'm not ready for this vacation to end. I don't wanna be away from you…Before we return to the guild, do you think I could hold you one more time?"

"This eye mask feels great! I'm sure your eyes get tired from all that paperwork, I'll get a couple of these to take home with us."

"This is called a massage ball…Cooking all the time can make me really stiff, maybe I should get one of these."

"I really like this shoulder massage stick. It's supposed to be used like this. What do you think? Does it feel good?"

"Ooh! This cat pillow is super cute. I heard it gets warm when you snuggle with it. You can come by my room and touch it whenever you want."

"You want to lean on me? The way your begging is too cute."

"Your tired of walking? Lean on me if you like."

"Your body heat is more healing than the hot spring."

"I'm really glad you came with me on this vacation. With you by my side, my mind and body have never felt more relaxed."

"Your hands are nice and cold. I just got out of the hot spring so I'm burning up. They feel good on my body."

"How many times are you gonna touch me in a place like…that? It's a little weird right? I might be small but I'm still a man…"

"No, it's not that I don't like to be touched. It just makes me nervous…"

"Are you getting cold? I can lend you my Haori if you need it…..Or we could just cuddle…?"

"Huh, my cheeks are a little red? It's probably cause of the hot spring."

"The more time I spend with you, the less I want to ever leave."

"Wow! A cake! Thank you! It's freshly baked too! You know, I've always been more into baking than cooking."

"Haha, ahaha! I can't take any more! I'm covered in presents!"

(gift like) "Wow thank you! That's what I'm talking about, Emma! This gift is perfect!"

(gift like) "You are so amazing! You never fail to get me the best things!"

(gift normal) "Oh no, no, I can't take this."

(gift normal) "You took the time to pick this out for me? How can I not be happy?"

(gift dislike) "Oh, um…I'm sorry, I'm flattered… It's just…Haha, I dunno what to say…"

(gift dislike) "This is for me? I mean, of course I'll take it. Any gift from you is special, no matter what it is."

"When you look at me…What do you think of me? Do you see me as a man?"

"You don't have to return the favor, I just really wanted to get this for you."

"I'm a man. How can I not be conscious of it? Please don't do this with any of the other guys…"

━

GRANDFLAIR : Rouge will only increase the debt while I'm gone, and Crow will destroy ruins again…Damn…My head hurts… CUIT : You're having a hard time too, Gran…I can't help but feel a kinship with you. Let's take a hot spring bath and get some rest.

━

GRANDFLAIR : I'm thinking of buying a new knife for our kitchen. Any recommendations? CUIT : There's a great store in Dilettanto, if you'd like I can show you around sometime.

━

CYRUS : You were very eagerly looking for a jar when we were in that souvenir shop. Perhaps…You also like jars..? CUIT : No, no, it's not that I like them. I was just looking for a jar for pickles…I'm sorry…

━

CYRUS : Cuit, I was told you have brothers. Do you have a secret to communicating better with them? CUIT : Well…Maybe you can eat something tasty together? If you just relax, I'm sure conversation will flow easy.

━

CUIT : I thought I'd been watching my diet…But, I've gained weight… FIDEL : You can't maintain your weight by just eating well, you know?

[intheholler]

Long ago (from birth to college) I hailed from Bowling Green, KY - people where I am now on the east coast always laugh when I tell them it’s the second or third biggest city in Kentucky with about 100k people in the city limits heheh.

I think when we’re raised in the south, especially when ur a queer little liberal amid a lot of republican children who hate you without even questioning why, we end up automatically associating the farmers, the country music, the ruralisms, the ways of speak, everything, with the hateful people who bear them rather than the neutrality of those people places and things when divorced from the mouths of the people who want us dead. I’m afraid that I’m in part romanticizing Appalachia only because I’m away from it now ; when I was a kid and teen I was so hateful to my surroundings because of the associations with, well, hate I’d given them. But at the same time I do also think that over the years, as part of learning and growing as a person I can see the beauty of the south and of Appalachia as it is - flawed and old and colorful and beautiful and part of me whether I like it or not.

Thank you for listening to my rambles, and for making this blog, it gives me a taste of home and a reminder to think back on it fondly. I’m happy to hear that other folks are feeling much the same.

To part with, I want to shout out grendel menz for all of his visual narrative and artistry around the south and how it can make you and who it can make you. Also, with the fun fact that the appalachians were originally part of the same mountain range as the Scottish highlands, and I think that’s so cool.

first, that's so funny you said that about the scottish highlands; i was just talking to someone about that in my DMs.

secondly... i am also romanticizing appalachia. but i don't see anyting wrong wrong with that.

like you, it's taken a lot of learning and growing as a person--and even some proper, temporary physical distance between myself and the mountains--to arrive at this point. but now that i'm here, i find it damn well deserves to be romanticized.

it deserves the five star treatment. the good of our region needs to be amplified and nurtured. all of its existence, it's been pushed aside, insulted, bullied, neglected. all of its cultural charm has been smothered by the blanket of the loud, hateful racist homophobic walnuts, and the true appalachia has been forced to shrink.

she deserves our love. appalachia never did anything wrong. many of her people are what actually failed her. but we can be louder than them.

come ramble here any time. i loved reading this ask. it hit close to home <3

[sound-traveller]

My dear Walnut Cookie!! How wonderful it is to meet you! Java was so happy to hear that you liked the candies they sent over! I hope you're doing well, dear! Is there a holiday that you like the most out of the year? My sweet Java is dying to know so that they can prepare a little something for your next visit!

~ Latte Cookie 🥄✨️

( @verykissablepixels )

[walnut cookie has (temporarily) regained control to answer!]

Oh!! Hi, Ms. Latte! You're friends with Dad and Cream Puff, right? You seem super cool from what they saw about you, it's nice to finally meet you!

And yeah, I really liked the candy! It sort of just appeared in my room with a note which was weird...but it tastes good!! Tell Java I said thank you!

For my favorite holiday...? I don't really have much of a favorite, but if I had to choose I guess it'd be Christmas! It's the one time of the year when nobody's working and we can all group up together to celebrate.

Oh, I know! You and Java should celebrate Christmas with us this year! -if it's okay with you, of course... I'm sure Dad would be fine with it!

- 🔎 Walnut Cookie (s/i)

[endlessnightlock]

Hello there 😊

Can I tell you a story? I promise it's not weird.

I read your drabble yesterday about Buttercup and Peeta where Peet was making pancakes for Katniss. Coincidentally enough I also made pancakes last night 🥞 Sourdough and yeast ones like always, and it reminded me of your sweet ❤️ drabble. Peeta was so adorable with his nervous energy and Buttercup was the right kind of comic relief. I just love them together.

This morning (I did an overnight rise), disaster strikes because the batter grew into a monster in the fridge and seeped its way out of the air tight container! It was ALIVE and there was pancake batter everywhere! 😂😭🤣 Thank goodness I didn't add eggs because that's extra clean up! I had a feeling it would happen when I said good night to it. Lo and behold, I had to clean the fridge before I even made breakfast 😭 What a Monday morning!

On the up side, the pancakes turned out pretty good. Because I had to clean the fridge, I saw some apples and added them to the batter. I also had some walnuts, so I crumbled them into the bowl. It was an experiment that didn't look so good but I think Peeta would be proud of me for its taste and texture. It was fluffy and moist. Just the right sweetness and freshness from the apples. I love walnuts so that's just 👌.

I was tempted to write this into an Everlark baking drabble with toastbabies but thought better to tell you instead. I hope my pancake adventure made you smile! 🥰 🥞🌞

You're a girl after my own heart @dandelionlovesyou .

Very cute story :).

Those pancakes sound delicious, although different from how I make them. I don't use yeast in them (I do bake bread, pizza crust, and cinnamon rolls with yeast). Mine are more like I described Peeta's: flour, a little sugar, baking powder, eggs, salt, and baking soda, with buttermilk that reacts with the baking powder to make them fluffy.

Cooking and baking are some of my favorite things to do, and many happy accidents happen in my kitchen, which results in dishes like your apple and walnut pancakes. Yum (I'm going to have to try that sometime)!!!

[thejoyofseax]

Apple Experiments in Arabic Medieval Cookery

Today, at Dun in Mara's Arts & Sciences Day, my ward Gabrielle and I tried out two of the recipes we're looking at for Féile na nÚll. Both are Arabic, one from al-Warraq, one from the Kanz, both from Nasrullah's translations.

From the Kanz, we did Receipe 119, tuffāḥiyya bi-zaʿfarān (meat with apple and saffron). It's a fairly simple stew of meat (lamb, in this case) and apples, with spices, and a thickener made of vinegar, sugar and wheat starch. For a variety of reasons, we had a few substitutions in there - the wheat starch was replaced with rice flour, the saffron with turmeric, and the aṭrāf al-ṭīb spice mix was definitely debatable in its makeup (spikenard replaced with fennel, and the lisān al-ʿaṣāfīr (fruit of Syrian ash) replaced with a little Sichuan pepper). It came out pretty good, I think, although the three kinds of pepper (long pepper, black pepper, sichuan pepper) put it at the edge of some people's spice tolerance, so I'll want to go easy on those for larger amounts. From my own point of view, the betel leaf in the aṭrāf al-ṭīb was strong enough to be distinctly tastable in the end product, even though there was only a tiny amount in there. But overall, it was a good stew, and with some adjustments to the spicing, I'll make it again. I probably won't look to include saffron in it; the amount won't really carry much taste against the peppers and betel and cloves, and the colour is adequately provided by the turmeric.

From al-Warraq, we did a ḵẖabīṣ of apples from Chapter 95 (except with apricots, because getting dried apples proved impossible, for no good reason I can imagine except the mysteries of supply lines). From the recipes around it, and from the words used in the translations, I expected the outcome to be a thick mousse, or thereabouts. What we got was a slightly apricot flavoured toffee, pretty much. It was good, but it was very unexpected.

Now, there were a number of substitutions (most notably apricot for apple, walnut oil for the almond and pistachio, and rice flour for wheat starch), any of which may have made it go weird; we didn't have anything like the exact utensils described, and we had no idea of how thick it should have been in the pot. I think our substitutions were ok (all were made in the context of recipes in the same chapter), and I don't think we went too far from the the instructions. However, I don't think we added nearly enough oil. There are actual amounts given in the recipe, for once, which makes that an even more egregious error, but they do look like vast amounts in proportion. So when we're trying that recipe again, we'll use more oil (and also see if we can get the proper apple powder, almond oil and pistachio oil).

There were about 20 people at the gathering, and everyone I spoke to declared themselves happy with the stew, and some quite delighted with the toffee-ish-stuff. So in terms of feeding people ("Pelican cookery"), we did good. More experimental results as we have them!

[nighttimescribbles]

hahah hi scribs this is your 🍬 nonnie this probably isn't going to be my usual burst of appreciation for your fics, even though i have been binge reading some of your ao3 fics since my last ask. i just wanted to comment on one of your last posts about your love language being food and i totally relate !! and if anything, today's events was a testament to that. i just wanted to talk about it because it makes me feel so happy inside. i'm crushing on a coworker at my part time job and a few weeks ago i baked some blueberry muffins and went into work hoping to give some to him only to find out he was out sick and would be for the next week. but i tried again last weekend and this time i made double chocolate banana muffins. it was honestly the best batch of muffins i have ever made and i made a lot, enough to share it with some other coworkers as well. this time i was also able to give it to my crush and he enjoyed it. but when i asked him if he had warmed it up (which was crucial so the chocolate chunks inside would be melted and gooey), he told me he hadn't because he was too hungry so he was in a rush to eat it. he told me that today when i saw him again and when i tell you i was in disbelief :^) i gave him my last two muffins and reminded him as i left and after i left for him to heat up the muffins. i still have yet to hear his verdict but i also promised him that the next batch of muffins i make will be perfect to eat unheated.

i'm glad you and i have food as a love language because it genuinely is one of the most thoughtful love languages out there. there's nothing more satisfying than giving close friends and loved ones something of your own creation and them complimenting you on how well it tastes. for now i'm going to unhealthily perceive this interaction between my crush and me as me and zeke because i think he would also appreciate someone whose love language is giving food :)

🍬 nonniiiiiiieeeee~ you're always welcome to hop in and join the conversation, love!

that is such a cute story with your co-worker crush! he appreciated the muffins, i promise you! there is nothing truer than the statement that the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. men love food, so even if they aren't very particular about how it's served (even if - or dare I say, *especially* if - they're eating it themselves), know and trust that they love the fact of being given food AT ALL.

i don't know anyone who can resist double chocolate muffins! and they are a glory to make, too! practically fool proof, moist every time. tiny chocolate chips make re-heating less necessary, but both you and i agree that there is NOTHING better than gooey melty chunks of chocolate in a banana muffin 🤤

if you're still thinking of what to make for your next batch of muffins, may i suggest carrot with cream cheese frosting? i made some once (added walnut and choc chip, but they're just as good without!) following this recipe, if i remember right and it turned out soooo good. i used muscovado sugar (very very dark, least processed type of sugar) to amp up the moisture and also for an extra caramel-y feel with a subtle sweetness (to balance against the white sugar sweetness in the cream cheese). if you like your muffins sweeter, regular brown sugar will do! 😁

i am sooooo excited for your next food-love interaction with your crush! crossing my fingers and wishing you all the bestest so so SO hard! loved ones of people with food as a love language are lucky ducks! sending you a huuuuuge hug for being samesies sisters! ❤️

[starglitterz]

watching horror movies together

feat; hu tao, scaramouche, xiao x gn!reader

warnings; modern au, mentions of jumpscares (not described in detail), not proofread

a/n; my contribution for @favoniuscodex's fall festivities writing collab! ty axia for hosting this, and it was rlly fun to write for :D !! also this is kinda a new style of post formatting ?? idk either way i hope u all like this hehe, and happy early halloween ! <3

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

snacks ;

— HU TAO eagerly brings all sorts of sugary foods out, from biscuits dusted in swirled icing to cupcakes with hidden jelly centers, to chocolate from your favourite store, to candies tucked into vibrant wrappers - the list goes on and on. when you tease her for having such a sweet tooth, she grins playfully and replies that she's only trying to replicate the sense of how sweet you are, and if her flirtatious answer prompts heat to rush to your cheeks, her grin only widens more. if you bring walnuts to snack on, HU TAO will drape herself dramatically into your lap and whine about how she's being replaced by a nut, and complain loudly, asking if she's supposed to organise her own funeral now.

— SCARAMOUCHE claims that he doesn't need to eat saccharine foods, as all they cause are cavities, but you'll catch him sneaking candy from your stash far more frequently than his earlier dismissal of sweets suggests he should. he'll bring his own box of popcorn and hoard the entire thing, though if you ask nicely and look at him with in his words, 'those damn puppy eyes', SCARAMOUCHE will groan and grumble about it but still share the food with you. he secretly blushes when your hands touch while reaching for it at the same time, and he thanks the archons that all the lights are off so you can't make fun of him.

— XIAO does not eat these type of junk foods at all, as he's only partial to the dreamlike taste of almond tofu. therefore, if you're planning to have a cute moment where the two of you share food, you're going to have to prepare beforehand. when he shows up with the movie and sees that you've cooked for him, a red flush begins to creep up his cheeks, and he'll mumble out a thanks with his head nuzzled into the crook of your neck. he's more than willing to share it with you, XIAO is already so grateful that you actually made his favourite food for him, he'll be like putty in your hands for the rest of the time the two of you are watching the movie together.

how they sit with you ;

— HU TAO always has to be in contact with you somehow, so she's either sprawled across the entire length of the sofa, taking up all the space, or she's lying with her head in your lap as if your thighs are a pillow for her. if you lean down and play with her hair, HU TAO swears her eyes will turn into heart emojis right there and then. the chance of you being able to continue the movie after that is extremely low, because she'll lean up to pepper kisses across your face and distract you the rest of the time.

— SCARAMOUCHE will purposely sit at the other end of the couch at first just to be annoying, which he obviously succeeds at, but throughout the movie, he'll slowly inch towards you until he's so close that his shoulder presses against yours. it's just to pretend you didn't notice, though, because if you bring it up, SCARAMOUCHE will launch into a whole tirade about how he, the sixth of the fatui harbingers, would never do something which insinuated that him, of all people, is madly in love to the point where he desperately wants to feel your warmth beside him. spoiler alert: he does.

— XIAO will lie down on the sofa, stretching like a cat first. his head reclines on one of the pillows, his arms open for you to snuggle into his torso so he can rest his chin on the top of your head. his fingers will intertwine with yours comfortably on your stomach, arms wrapping around you tightly as if to protect you from the monsters of the film. XIAO only hopes you don't notice how much his heartbeat speeds up from your proximity, and during the scary parts, because otherwise that would totally ruin all the respect you had for the adeptus.

their reaction to jumpscares ;

— HU TAO bursts into laughter, clutching her sides and giggling so much she nearly falls off the sofa. tears of mirth even begin to form in her scarlet eyes, and when you confusedly ask what's wrong, she'll say, "woah, that was a good one! they almost got me there! although i have to wonder if their special effects team is even trying... maybe i should pay them a visit! i'm sure i can show them what ghosts are really meant to look like." HU TAO will also then start discussing how to make film directors purchase her special offers from the funeral parlour.

— SCARAMOUCHE screams, and it's surprisingly high-pitched compared to his usual speaking voice. if you tease him about it, he'll claim, "you're hearing things, idiot. why would i, the balladeer, be afraid of a mere prop? see, look, i can prove it- AAA! no. that wasn't me. i think the neighbour's cat is in a fight or something." SCARAMOUCHE will deny it until the day he dies, and if his arm slides around your figure to reassure himself that you're alright, that's fine with you, isn't it?

— XIAO tenses up, but only for a split second, as his muscles relax the next second once his brain processes that it isn't a real threat. his grip around you will tighten slightly, and you'll hear him breathe a little quicker, but once you turn to him with a worried expression, he smiles at you softly, amber eyes gleaming, "i'm alright. it's just a movie, after all. i've seen much worse too, so this doesn't phase me." XIAO spends the next few minutes trying to calm you down after you freak out over him saying he's experienced worse, but he'd be lying if he said he doesn't appreciate you worrying for him.

when you get scared ;

— HU TAO pulls into her lap, arms snaking around you and tugging you into a super warm and comfy hug. she rubs her cheek against yours, and pokes the other side of your face in an effort to get you to smile. "y/n, you've explored wuwang hill with me, and that makes you braver than 99% of liyue's population! to me, you're already fearless, so don't worry about being scared of just a silly movie, alright?"

— SCARAMOUCHE gives you a sort of weird side-eye when he notices you're getting nervous, but he doesn't actually say anything until you finally ask him what's up. when he realises he's been caught, his face turns tomato red and he hurriedly says, "i was just checking on you, dumbass! isn't that what boyfriends are supposed to do?! i just don't want you to be scared! hmph, fine! you can come over here and cuddle if that'll make you feel better."

— XIAO pulls you impossibly closer to his chest, his silent presence and warmth comforting you and chasing away your fears. he kisses the top of your head lovingly, and whispers, "it's okay to be scared, y/n. i'm a yaksha, i can protect you. just remember it's only a movie, okay? then maybe you'll feel less afraid."

after the movie ;

— the pair of you end up falling asleep together on the plush sofa, limbs tangled up in one another's reassuring embrace. even if there were any nightmares which dared disturb your slumber, the presence of your partner beside you easily warded them away, instead allowing mr sandman to fill your dreams with happiness instead. one thing's for certain, though; watching horror movies together definitely needs to become an annual halloween tradition.

quill speaks !

i actually don't have much to say im so tired KKAKFKSKDN i just hope u all enjoyed this hehe :> it was actually very funny to write 😭 except my xiao characterisation died bc i projected onto him sm /hj anyways i love the three of them sm they r my beloveds <333 OKOK gn now & wish me luck for my chem test tmrw !!

taglist (open) ; @kazuwhore / @ayra2452008 / @mooscutely / @simplyxsinned / @chichikoi / @keokomi / @genshiningg / @hqrbinger / @lilikags / @hushyouu / @the-gayest-sky-kid / @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw / @almondoufu / @xiaoxiaoo / @cruxdou / @mayple / @test-tube / @yeetmeoffjueyunkarst / @keiq0 / @solar-shatter

© starglitterz 2021. do not repost or modify in any way.

[cheese-induced-madness]

For some reason I've become obsessed with psychonauts and word girl so how about some hc for dtb x fem reader who has psychic powers? She is technically a hero, but the thing is that she fights her battles quite differently than what he is used too. While most heroes fight psychically, she fights in the mental world and often saves people from themselves. just a thought

Can't say I know anything about psychonauts but I think I get the general premise you're going for. The concept of doing the whole hero thing in the mindscape is an interesting one given how the wordgirl villains seem to primarily wreak havoc on the physical side of things, even the ones with a focus on mental ability and intelligence.

To probably nobody's surprise at this point, I got carried away with this one again and ended up writing a ficlet as a point of reference for the headcanons. Hope that's cool with you, anon.

The fic is like, kind of heavy on the angst and maybe a little scary(?), but the headcanons after soften the blow with a happy ending, I promise.

Venn Diagram of the Minds

You don't exactly know what to expect from tapping into two connected brains at once. Would they think as separate entities in a shared headspace? Blend together as two halves of a whole? Was there any way to tell which thoughts belonged to whom? It was all new territory and you were positive it would be your most difficult opponent yet.

He doesn't notice when you sneak into his lair. He doesn't notice you creeping across the steel rafters above him. He doesn't notice how sleepy he is all of a sudden before he drifts off to sleep on his couch. Excellent. You're gonna need everything to run smoothly if you're going to make any progress with this one, even if this first mission is simply recon.

You try to ignore the pit in your stomach as you tap into his mind. You had a feeling this wasn't going to be pretty, but there was no turning back now. It was time. You closed your eyes, relaxed your body, and set your senses upon the two conjoined minds beneath you.

You swallowed your fear, and you allowed your own consciousness to dive in.

-xXx-

Bright, near blinding yellow is the first thing to enter your blurred vision. It almost hurts to look at. As the world around you becomes clearer and clearer, you start to make out your surroundings beyond just abstract colors, and you notice you're in a hallway, the floors and wallpaper mimicking the holed patterns of cheese.

Behind you, you hear the distant sound of high pitched squeaking and skittering footsteps. You look back, but the hallway seems to stretch on forever, the yellow walls reaching on and fading into darkness. Claw marks streaked across the cheese-print paper and the hardwood floors.

Yeah... You don't have time to unpack all that just yet.

You turn your gaze ahead once more and decide to press onward. The other end of the hallway was much brighter, albeit still dimly lit, but you could see the end of it so you thought it would make for a better first impression. Start with their best self, get to know the good qualities a little, then look at the bad with the context of the good in mind. Otherwise you might end up biased against them and that gets in the way when you're trying to help.

You reached the end of the hallway and came upon a doorway with no door. The hinges were still attached, broken and bent, and more claw marks were carved into the frame.

You try to ignore your own unease and press on, crossing the threshold and entering the room. The cheese-print walls remained consistent, but the furniture was more varied, and you were relieved to give your eyes a break, switching your gaze between the purple armchair, low walnut table and a couch in a tasteful shade of forest green. You had a feeling these walls were a very different shade, once upon a time. You drew closer to the low table, papers and a couple books messily strewn across it. Near the center was a book that drew your attention: "Superheroes and You: A Practical Guide by Prof. Steven Boxleitner." You remembered that name.

You never knew Dr. Two Brains before what happened to him, but the local hero tipped you off about the tragedy that made him turn to the life of a villain to begin with. It's why you were so interested in trying to fix things to begin with. You suppose you could be called bleeding-heart, but it's what you felt what right. Nobody deserves a fate like this.

While you paced through the room, examining anything that could give you hints about the mind you were dealing with, your thoughts were interrupted by a voice calling from another room.

"Squeaky, is that you?" the voice called. "I told you, little buddy, we're gonna get more cheese in the morning," a door opened, and out stepped- Dr. Two Brains? "Just wait a little- oh..." He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, and you were just as frozen. The first thing you noticed was his hair. It was much shorter and neater (though that was a low bar to clear), and instead of stark white, it was a much more plain shade of brown. The whites of his eyes were, well, white, instead of bloodshot pink, and his cheeks were noticeably lacking the whiskers he possessed in the material world. He stared at you, confused.

This was getting awkward.

He broke the silence before you. "Uh... hi... who are you and why are you here? It's supposed to be just me and Squeaky up here." His expression changed to panic. "Oh god, don't tell me he fused another brain to us without bothering to ask."

"No, no, nothing like that," you assured him. Well, that's worrying. "I'm just here to help, that's all."

His fear seemed to subside but his apprehension remained. "Help with what?"

"With, well..." you gestured around the room. "With all of this. You're in a bit of a unique predicament and I think I may be able to help you out of it. Let's be honest, do you really enjoy having a violent rat stuck to your brain?" you asked. His panic returned.

"Don't call him that, he's a mouse, and it's fine, I'm fine like this, I don't need help, I'm perfectly fine with having Squeaky around," he hurriedly denied.

You weren't buying it. "So the guy who literally wrote the book on heroism is totally fine with having his body taken over and used for crimes? You're totally cool with being constantly pressured into stealing cheese?" you pressed. "Do you even LIKE cheese enough to steal this much of it?"

You heard a hushed squeak from outside the room. And then another. And then three more. Squeaking and skittering and scratching on the walls from the other side, getting louder and louder. Steven looked terrified.

"Oh god, you made him angry," he choked out.

Before you could ask what was happening, you were almost suffocated by the onslaught of mice pouring into the room from the holes in the mock-cheese walls, screaming at the top of their lungs and circling you both. Steven tried to run, but a wave of rodents toppled him to the ground, swarming him. He screamed, muffled by the sea of fur and whiskers, drowned out by the endless cacophony of ear splitting, endless squeaking.

You looked down and sure enough, they were climbing your legs just the same. You kicked, trying to shake them off, clamoring to escape, to run back through the hallway and get as far away as you could, but you only made it a few steps before the tidal wave of mice knocked you to the ground as well.

A shriek cut through the barrage of noise at mind bending volume. It almost sounded like a pitched up roar. You craned your neck up to look down the hallway just in time to see a massive white mouse, bigger than a bear, charging directly at you, its sharped teeth the last thing you see before it all goes black.

-xXx-

Your eyes snap open and you gasp for air, your trance broken and tears threatening to fall. You try to calm yourself down, forcing yourself to take deep breaths, quieting yourself before you're heard.

Looking down, you don't think Dr. Two Brains is in a state to notice much.

He was curled in on himself on the couch, one arm tucking his legs close to him and the other holding the side of his head as a green energy swirled and crackled around his second brain like a thunderstorm. He was sobbing, shaking, pleading for it to stop.

"I'm sorry, Squeaky, I'm sorry! I don't know what I was thinking, I'm sorry!!"

He let out an agonized cry, and you felt a pang of guilt. You knew the mouse brain was violent, but you didn't realize just how low he could stoop or how easily offended he was, otherwise you would've gone in with a great deal more care not to anger him.

You wanted to comfort him, to ease his pain somehow, but you knew it wasn't your place, the mouse hated you already and your presence right now would only make it worse.

He let out a cry of agony. It was getting painful to watch.

A door opened, and his henchmen rushed out to the couch to see what was wrong. They took one look at their boss, then exchanged a glance and a nod. The shorter of the two rushed out of the room while taller one rushed to his boss's side, immediately pulling him into a hug, which the doc reciprocated, clinging to the larger man like his life depended on it while he rubbed a steady hand over his back in slow circles. The shorter one came back with a block of cheese, taking his place on the other side of Dr. Two Brains, gently tapping him on the shoulder and holding it out to him. He quickly snatched it up and started tearing through it, scarfing it down in record time. This seemed to calm the aura clouding his second brain, and by extension calm him, so you presumed Squeaky had been more or less appeased.

You didn't entirely feel right just leaving after somewhat causing this mess without an apology, but it would have to wait. What mattered was that for now, he would be alright, and you would have your chance to fix things later.

You spared one last glance back at them, huddled up on the couch. It was good to know he had people that cared about him even as the top villain in the city.

You couldn't help but notice the henchmen had clearly seen you and were all staring straight at you, though the henchmen seemed to be too preoccupied with comforting their boss to really do anything about your presence. You keep your eyes locked for a moment before turning back around, hopping out the window you came in from and making your escape.

Dr. Two Brains stared at the window, expression unreadable.

"Did you know her, boss? Did she do this to you?" the shorter henchman asked.

"No," he replied, voice flat and hoarse from crying. "I suppose she's the new hero in town. Maybe she's taken an interest in me, who knows..." He went silent for a moment. "This is going to be interesting..."

-xXx-

Bonus Headcanons because I feel bad leaving it on a sad note:

-After your first encounter, dtb is VERY guarded around you. Steven isn't really mad at you, but he's biding his time to see what you'll do next. If he actively seeks your help, who knows what Squeaky will do.

-He wants so desperately to be free, or at least to have better boundaries with his mouse brain, but he can't voice that.

-You may have inadvertently caused the jekyll and hyde split in him to resurface a bit. It sorta phased out for awhile after the two brains learned to live with each other and Steven just kind of accepted that they'd be doing crimes as long as he didn't have full control over himself, but now that his loyalty to Squeaky has been called into question again, well... they haven't quite been getting along quite so well.

-Your subsequent trips into his minds are much more well prepared. The mouse flood caught you by surprise the first time, but not again, especially now that you've honed your defenses to keep them blocked out and keep Steven protected. You've also learned that it's best to completely knock Squeaky out before attempting to say anything that might offend him.

-It's not easy for Steven to open up about what it's been like, trapped in his own body like this. He trusts that you want to help him, but it's a lot to unpack and he hasn't even really come to terms with it all himself.

-You teach him methods to keep himself safe and to keep some of his own thoughts private. He may not be psychic by nature but he's got a damn strong understanding of psychology and neurology, so learning to better control his own mind comes fairly naturally to him. It's not a perfect solution, and he'll never be able to fully resist the mouse brain as long as it's attached, but Steven is certainly fairing better than he was before. You just hope he stays that way until you can find a way to separate them. But it does bring you some hope that when you next drop into his mind, the doorway on his side has a door again, this time with a lock.