#milk is free real estate

[demonicfarmer69]

milk found a similar friend!

[books-and-dragons]

I'm so sorry, I'm kinda drunk and dropping another idea, do with it whatever ye will.

Yknow how in the beginning of the game, Sojiro tells Ren he won't take care of him when he gets sick?

Consider: he's not used to city germs/being that closely shoved against other people on the train. He DOES start to get sick around Kamoshida's Palace, powers through it, and then is SUPER sick just after it's over.

He plans on sucking it up and hiding it, but Futaba hears his hacking coughs over her bug even when he's upstairs, followed by wheezing, maybe even a little weeping. He's constantly in and out of the bathroom, and he's starting to run out of tissues.

Futaba nervously texts Sojiro that the kid they took in sounds awful. Sojiro is gruff at first and says he's not a baby, he can take care of himself. She responds by sending him the audio and suddenly Dad Instincts kick in

y/n

obviously it's a YES, our brainrots continue because early-game ren and sojiro dynamics break my heart every time how dare you get me so invested in this idea, this post got too long so it's going under a read more

listen listen look i love sojiro and the coffee family okay, but early-game?? sojiro could catch these hands

ren has already been though so much by the time he arrives in tokyo, to then be put into a dusty old attic like a spare part would absolutely fit in with ren's own perception of himself at that stage. it would be almost too easy for him to put his own health on the backburner kinda like he's already used to it

very used to not taking up space, 'not being a bother', and then sojiro really reinforces this message when ren first gets to leblanc- so when ren inevitably gets ill a month into his probation, it's already doomed for maladaption

tokyo would be such a breeding ground for sickness compared to the countryside, and ren just doesn't have the consitution to deal with it. the dusty attic and poor eating habits don't help matters, and then we have the stress of kamoshida and the metaverse?? ren is not having a Good Time™

at first it's something he thinks he can shrug off, and is adamant that ignoring it is the way to go. a cold, it's nothing, he can handle this alone, no need to bother anyone else with it.

inevitably, he gets worse, because that's what happens when you don't rest and let yourself recover. a tickly cough becomes a tightness in his chest, mild congestion shifts into an attack on his senses and blurriness- but maybe that's the dizziness. he's not really sleeping, either.

it's something that's becoming increasingly difficult to brush off and hide, he even relented to finally getting some medicine (nothing as strong as he needs by this point, that would eat too much into his limited funds, but some painkillers to take the edge off). once or twice he's tempted to stay off school, at morgana's insistence, or a too close call where he definitely blacked out for a minute, but then sojiro's voice will ring in his head 'i won't be the one looking after you if you get sick', 'your parents got rid of you for being a pain in the ass', and all his worst insecurities come rushing back and he's resolved to deal with it on his own

meanwhile, futaba's been making use of her hidden audio bugs- normally they're a comfort for her in the daytime, but since the new kid- ren- has been staying at the cafe (part-timer her ass, how gullible does sojiro think she is?!), she's been listening more frequently. when ren gets sick, she figures it out quickly.

time goes on, he's not getting better- he's actually getting worse- and futaba starts to wonder if she's the only one who knows

(there's something in his sharp contrasts- the quiet kid who shuffles through the cafe and takes sojiro's scolding, to the coughing kid who cries into the silence of night when he thinks there's nobody there to see it- that stabs through her numbness. it feels like a companion to her own ghost)

one night she swears the kid gets up to be sick, and there's hardly any sound heard from the attic all night. if nobody's gonna help ren, then she will (futaba used to like helping, once upon a time).

she texts sojiro the next day, when ren doesn't say anything again, and goes off to school with what she bets is a fake assurance on his face

and you're so right, sojiro dismisses her concern really easily, claims the kid can 'take care of himself' and he won't 'baby' the part-timer. insists ren needs to learn some disipline, then maybe he'll stay out of trouble

frustration wells in futaba- if she was less fixated on what was going on with ren, she'd register it's one of the first changes of mood she's had for months- and she responds with nothing but an audio clip, an attached explanation that this is just from the past few days- it's been going on for weeks, then she waits, and hears the distant sound of her compilation through one of the bugs, a hitched breath from sojiro, curse words under his breath-

for all his earlier postulating about not helping ren if he gets sick, sojiro is immeditely struck with a pang of concern- it sounded bad, and if futaba's words were anything to go by, this had been going on for a while. the kid's at school now (at school, being as ill as that and he was still going to class-), so sojiro will talk to him when he gets back. there's a chance he goes a bit too over the top, between the variation of medicines he purchases, supplies he grabbed from home- if you accused him for over-compensating after maybe being too harsh on the kid in the beginning, you'd be right

and you just know ren would be so resistent at first to help, or even just the offer of staying off school. in his sickness-induced fugue, ren's filter-less in rattling off how he can't stay off, what will the students and teachers think, and he has work that afternoon, and a test soon, and he doesn't want to get in the way-

sojiro's heart just shatters

this kid, whose been silently carring the weight of the world and has apparently been falling to pieces for weeks now and sojiro didn't even notice?

(a part of it reminds him too much of the other kid he's got at home, the countless ways he's already failed futaba, and now ren too? he feels useless)

sojiro focuses on what he can do, and that's making the kid rest. work will understand, school can wait, ren isn't an inconvenience, he guides the kid to bed, calls takemi immediately (who rushes over, despite the fact she's technically closed at this hour, and refuses to take any payment),

even still, there's this stilted awkwardness between them when the quiet pushes on too long- they hardly know each other, afterall. sojiro is still figuring out the 'caring for kids' thing, and ren isn't familiar with any kind of parental affection, so some of sojiro's care veers a bit too close to clinical or mechanic, and ren still struggles to communicate what kind of help he needs, but it's enough for now.

for now, sojiro is there. he's trying, and at least ren's getting some colour back on his skin. for now, ren's willing to take a few days off and have some medicine, but he's over-apologetic and definitely tries to make up for his sickness once he's healed. it's gonna take them both a while yet, but luckily there's always their guardian hacker, ready and able to call them out when needed (and maybe some day she'll be able to keep an eye on ren and sojiro in person)

[aeide-thea]

the inside of the foil on this siggi’s yogurt is like ‘try our new plant-based coconut blend!’ and it’s like. perhaps this advertising would be more effective in a location accessible to people who weren’t already eating yr dairy-based yogurt???

[brittle-doughie]

Y/N Cookie: just vibing at their kingdom with the other cookies.

Mystic Flour seeing them through Dark Cocao's soul jam: :) it's free real-estate

Nah but fr Y/N Cookie can't catch a break we already had the Shadow Milk Incident LET THEM BREATHE!

Nah, the Pale Ailment is here, Dark Cacao is right at your door. He needs your aid, you can’t deny him.

[cauldronblssd]

Morning edition -

Read on AO3

For @elucienweekofficial Day 7 - AU

Thank you to @panicatthenightcourt for helping me with a smutty idea for this fic! I hope you like it. 💚

The sound of claws scraping against the fabric of her headboard alerted Elain that her morning had begun. She groaned, covering her face with a pillow to drown out the sound of her cat’s insistent alarm letting her know that he was ready for breakfast. Faint sounds of morning traffic buzzed around her, another sign of the inevitability of the start of her day.  

Elain drowsily padded to the kitchen. She filled the coffeepot with grounds and water before turning her attention to her cat. Suri hopped up on the counter, circling her as she reached for a can of wet food, his paws tapping out a little dance. He nudged her hand with his soft cheek, urging her to move more quickly, as she popped open the putrid smelling can of wet food and dished it out onto a plate.  

The steady drip of the coffeepot began as she turned on the radio she’d bought for cheap at a thrift store. She’d rushed to buy it in excitement when her sister, Feyre, landed her first job at the station as an arts and culture reporter, insisting that it wasn’t enough to hear her voice over the online stream - she needed to hear it on a physical radio.  

Since, she’d grown into a habit of listening every morning, though her sister wouldn’t be on for another forty-five minutes. The familiar sound of her favorite news reporter filled the room, his voice smooth and low as he spoke of some bill to raise sales tax for the benefit of real estate developers.  

Generally, listening to the news would set her on edge, there rarely being anything good to say. But listening to the deep lull of his radio voice as he interviewed a city council person, serious and yet inviting, soothed her. It had become part of her morning routine, something that she looked forward to as surely as her cup of coffee. She’d tried to imagine him, from time to time, as equally handsome to match his deep velvet voice. However, whenever she tried, she remembered the droll dinner she’d been to with Feyre’s boss, a man probably four decades her senior, wearing penny loafers. She’d liked him all the same, and he’d sent her free tickets to a local jazz festival.  

Elain continued to listen absently as she drank her cup of coffee and watered the myriad of plants lining the windowsill of her kitchen. Every room of her house had a few, but her kitchen got the most sunlight, something she took advantage of by something placing green and growing on every available surface.  

She looked in her fridge, unfortunately empty of food after hosting her sisters and their friends for a movie night earlier in the week. Nesta and Emerie had been training for a marathon, and needed a constant intake of carbs to make up for it – or so they claimed as they scarfed down everything in her apartment. Her phone made a vibrating noise against the hard linoleum of her counters.  

Feyre: Good morning 😇  Elain: ...  Feyre: What, no good morning for your little sister?  Elain: How good the morning is depends on what you want, Fey  Feyre: Would you pretty, pretty please bring me a coffee at the studio?   Elain: Doesn't your work have coffee?   Feyre: Yeah and it’s very economical and tastes terrible. This is PUBLIC radio.   Elain: Isn’t your workday over in a couple hours anyway?   Feyre: Yes, but I have a date after work...  Elain: With that rich guy?   Feyre: Rhys!   Feyre: Please he’s so hot and I don’t want to fall asleep and drool.   Feyre: He’s taking me to the opera and he’s got box seats.   Elain: FINE but you’re taking me to the craft festival this weekend.  Elain: And you’re buying my beer.  Feyre: DEAL  Feyre: Iced oat-milk latte with extra foam pls 

Elain shook her head, setting her phone back down to hop in the shower. After visiting Feyre, she planned to visit the community gardens. She had a small plot with some lettuce and cucumbers growing that would need watering and her flower bed would need weeding. With that in mind, she threw on a pair of denim shorts and a loose t-shirt. She braided her hair back away from her face in hopes of keeping the dirt out of it. It wasn’t much, but she planned to just run into bring her sister the coffee and get out as quickly as possible before the afternoon sun started to kick in. Chucking on her sneakers, she grabbed her keys to head out of the house, giving Suri one last kiss on the head.  

Elain walked to the coffee shop near her house after stopping to talk to her elderly neighbor, Pam, who liked to have her morning coffee on her porch steps and chat with anyone that passed. She tended to talk for too long, but Elain didn’t mind listening. After growing up with Nesta and Feyre, she felt used to it. After hitting the walk sign at all three intersections she had to cross to get to Scythia, Elain had decided it was her lucky day.  

Elain popped open the glass door, entering the air-conditioned chill. She immediately spotted the familiar vibrant red hair of Vassa as she stepped inside. Vassa always changed her appearance, and she currently had it cut into what she assured Elain was a trendy mullet - short on the top with longer strands in the back that reached the base of her neck. Her arms, covered in brightly colored tattoos, flexed as she tamped down on some espresso.  

The room was loud, between the music Jurian always had blaring over the speakers, the screeching sounds of steaming milk, and the chatter of people seated at the tables throughout the shop. At the back, Jurian perched on their brightly colored pink couch as he crouched over a laptop screen in front of him, paperwork piled to the side. She offered him a friendly wave before walking up the counter to her friend.  

“Hey beautiful!” Vassa smiled broadly at her. “You’re not usually in here this early.”  

“I’m headed to check on my romaine, but I promised Feyre I’d bring her something at work.”  

“That’s generous of you.” Vassa quirked one eyebrow as she took the two empty glass jars that Elain handed to her.  

“She was up late. New boyfriend.” The last part she said with a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned towards the counter.  

“How’d she meet this one?” Vassa turned to look at her as she measured out the milk for their drinks. 

“Some work thing. His company donates to the station.”  

“Scandalous.” Vassa offered her a cheeky wink. “Does he have any rich brothers?” 

“Planning a backup boyfriend?” Vassa and Jurian had been together for three years, and despite their constant arguing, they never wavered, living together while also running the shop.  

“For you, dumbass.”  

Elain swatted at her. “Thanks for the lookout, but I don’t need my little sister to set me up.”  

“How about me then, Jurian knows this guy who...”  

Elain cut her off with a hand in the air. “I love you, Vass, but after you set me up with that guy obsessed with birds, you’ve lost your credibility.”  

Vassa handed her two jars now filled to the brim with coffee, the milk swirling cloudlike in the glass. “He was hot, but point taken.”  

Elain shoved a generous tip into the jar at the counter before waving to a half-distracted Vassa, already in the midst of preparing a particularly sugary drink for a teenager waiting patiently.  

***** 

The walk to the radio station where Feyre worked was long and the ice in Feyre’s drink quickly began to melt. Elain held the overfull drink carefully as she stepped towards the door of the studio. She fumbled as she reached the door, her hands full and her grip precarious.  

“I’ve got it” a familiar voice called from behind her. Against her will, Elain shivered in response. God, she was acting like a weirdo in front of this probably middle-aged married man on his way to work.  She focused her gaze on the cement pavement of the sidewalk, blinding as the sun gleamed overhead. She watched his shadow as he came closer to her.  

It took but a few long strides for him to reach her, a broad elegant hand reaching to grasp the door. His body was close behind hers, allowing her to scent the warm spice of his cologne. His wife probably bought it for him, she reminded herself. But as she watched a tendon in his muscled forearm flex with the movement, she couldn’t help but scan his unadorned hand for a wedding band.  

“Do you know where you’re headed?” The door opened, and she shut her eyes to adjust the dull fluorescent lighting. His body stepped closer to hers, the heat from his hand approaching her back without ever touching.  

Her voice squeaked when she spoke. “Just dropping off coffee.” She lifted one as if to prove her point.  

“Ah. Delivery?” He’d come to stand beside her, but Elain wouldn’t let herself to look up. She didn’t want to break the spell of his voice so close to hers, afraid of what she might find.  

God she must seem like an idiot. “OH. Uh no, actually. Just for my sister.”  

“I should have known. You must be Feyre’s sister.” She looked up, finally, forcing herself to act like an adult and not a shy adolescent who had never spoken to a crush before. She was forced to crane her neck to meet his gaze and OH.  

Lucien Vanserra was a god, easily the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. His tall frame was equally broad, the muscles of his chest seeming to strain against the smooth fabric of his checked shirt. He’d left only the first two buttons open, a professional, and yet just the hint of his gleaming brown skin underneath caused her mouth to go dry. He smiled widely at her, causing a scar over his eye to bunch at the corners. His eyes were a beautiful russet brown, mirthful as he watched her stumble for words.  

“You know her?” Elain offered dumbly.  

“Against my own will, I assure you.” He gestured one hand in front of him to indicate that they move.  

Elain’s feet felt too heavy, stuck to the ground as she struggled to recalibrate her mind. This could not be the same man who just spoke about taxes of all things. His full lips were too beautiful, his voice too sultry, to be bogged down with such tedious minutiae.  

They wandered through a hallway covered in scuffed linoleum tile, clearly a carryover from decades prior. Elain paid no attention to doors they passed or where they turned. She felt as if her world had been turned around, her mind turning to accept this new piece of information. Lucien, the man who mediated a debate for city council, who reported on the new wastewater plant, who she’d fantasized about on more than one occasion, was gorgeous and walking next to her and – Elain cursed herself, clearing her mind of her spiraling thoughts.  

It had been too long since she’d broken up with Graysen, a dry spell that had had all but turned into unwilling chastity. She feared her summons for the convent would come any day. Could one be recruited for that sort of thing? The cheerful laugh of Feyre brought her back to her senses, followed by an unfamiliar voice muttering something in response.  

Next to her, Lucien sighed dramatically. “Rhysand is here.”  

Elain bit her cheek to keep from laughing. “You don’t like him?” She couldn’t look at him, fearing the flush already forming would give her away.  

“I do, he’s just been here...a lot lately.” He looked at her with a pointed lift of his brow.  

She smirked, but said nothing. Far be it for her to reveal a torrid workplace affair her sister may or may not be engaged in. Though technically, she supposed, Rhysand didn’t work for the station, he just...sponsored it. She wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. Would Rhys pull his funding when Feyre inevitably got bored and moved on, as she always seemed to do?  

Lucien knocked pointedly on the open doorway with a sharp rap, announcing their presence before entering. What could they be doing in an office to necessitate that?  

“Feyre, a visitor for you.” Feyre turned her face towards Elain and immediately winced apologetically. Not comprehending, Elain scanned her sister, wondering if she had been caught in something scandalous after all. That’s when she saw. TRAITOR.  

Feyre stood with a large plastic cup in hand, holding some kind of sweetened drink concoction laden in caramel drizzle. She didn’t even like sweet drinks! She had teased Nesta mercilessly for her preferences, had labelled her as basic on more than one occasion.  

Elain smiled with chagrin, not letting her ire seep through in front of Rhys and Lucien. “I see you’ve got your caffeine covered.” The condensation from the glass began to drip down her hand uncomfortably. She turned towards Lucien, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed in amusement.  

“I don’t suppose you like an oat milk latte?” He was polished from head to toe, his shirt pressed and his large black watch gleaming like the shine of his auburn hair. She became very aware of her own lackluster appearance, her shirt advertising Gwyn and Emerie’s gym that she admittedly rarely visited.  

“I’m more of a tea guy myself.” A frown began to pull at the corners of her mouth, her irritation at her sister unfairly cast in the direction of this innocent bystander.  

He smirked, stepping towards her. “But I can’t say no to a free drink.” His hand brushed hers as he took it from her hands, and she bit her lip to contain the gasp caught in her throat. She watched with lurid fascination as he lifted the jar to his lips, the clear glass allowing her to see his tongue as he licked some water off the side before taking a sip. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. His eyes met hers as he pulled it from his face, their gazes locking before Rhysand interrupted.  

“Nice of you to escort her, Vanserra.” His tone implied that it was not nice at all. If Elain had more sense, she might have unraveled whatever male bravado was taking place in front of her, what tangled web her sister might be weaving. Instead, she stood dumbly, all words gone for the moment.  

“Oh, um.” she fiddled with the tail of her braid, twisting it between her fingers, “Yes, thanks.”  

Feyre cringed, as if embarrassed at her sister’s poor social skills. Normally, Elain would be the one to smooth things over, to offer whatever polite phrase a situation required.  

“Anyway, I should go. I’ve got to check on my lettuce.” God, she sounded like an idiot. Rhysand grinned devilishly, his smile revealing his unusually sharp canines.  

“Wouldn’t want to leave that lettuce unsupervised, Elain. It was nice to meet you.” Elain silently cursed him even as she had to admit he was handsome. He exuded charisma, the cut of his sweater too sharp to truly be casual. He was different than Feyre’s usual type, a challenge to which her sister would certainly rise.  

Elain only nodded before quickly exiting down the hall. Damn her and her lusty brain, she hadn’t paid attention to the direction back to the entrance at all. Each hall was the same dull gray, covered in tacky textured wallpaper from the eighties. The old scent of cigarette smoke clung to it. Elain needed fresh air, needed the green of her plants and the scent of fresh soil. Just as she was considering how ludicrous it would be to airdrop her location to her sister in an office building of all places, she startled to attention as an older person with a badge labelling them as Bryaxis, stepped from the shadows. “Exit is first door on your left.”  

Elain waved half-heartedly, “got it, thanks!” before moving her short legs at a brisker pace towards the exit. If her sister wanted coffee delivered to her desk again, she could call Nesta.  

***** 

Elain was sorting through her, admittedly cluttered, closet for a tote bag to bring to the craft fair when she felt her phone vibrate.  

Feyre: Downstairs  Elain: Almost ready, come up?  Feyre: In a tow away zone  

Goddammit. Elain reached her hand in and grabbed the first bag she could find before slipping into a pair of shoes and rushing out the door and racing down the creaky stairs. Her sister awaited her in an old Honda civic, something poppy blasting from her staticky stereo system.  

“My neighbors are all retired, you’re gonna get me a noise complaint.” 

Feyre, ever stubborn, turned up the music one octave louder. “Please, they are too busy ogling you.” Elain scrunched her nose in disapproval. “You look cute, by the way.”  

Elain smoothed out the cotton of her dress. “What did you do?” 

“NOTHING! Can’t a girl be nice to her sister?” Elain narrowed her eyes but shrugged, noting her sister taking the side street leading towards Scythia.  

“Coffee first?”  

“Always.” Elain said nothing about the dark bruise that looked like a bitemark clearly visible on her sister’s neck beneath her wavy hair.  

“Good time with fancy pants?”  

“Rhys!” She admonished her. Elain shrugged, a clear indication that she had no intention of calling him by that anytime soon. “And yes, the opera was...interesting.”  

“Interesting how?” While her sister had an artistic spirit, she’d certainly never expressed an interest in the opera before. That was more of Nesta’s scene. Feyre grinned mischievously.  

“GOD never mind, don’t tell me.” 

“Boring” Feyre scoffed, rolling up with a smooth glide to parallel park. Elain would not admit that she was impressed, that she would walk to the shop in almost any weather to avoid this very parking situation.  

“Come on, my little deviant. Coffee awaits.” Elain flipped her hair dramatically as she stormed into the coffee shop with a flourish. Vassa would side with her, she was mostly certain. She grinned as she saw her leaning across the counter, her laugh resounding throughout the small space. That smile fell short when she realized who she who was making her laugh so gleefully.  

Feyre, unperturbed, bounded up, bumping her shoulder with Lucien’s almost aggressively. Lucien didn’t flinch, his body unmoving as he glanced down at her. His mouth opened to say something to her when he turned, catching Elain in his vision. He watched her for a moment, his eyes moving up and down to take her in, before turning back to Feyre. Vassa’s own eyes widened as she looked towards Elain gesturing between Lucien and Feyre in question. Lucien caught the motion and scowled at Vassa. 

Feyre, less subtly made a gagging sound. “Him, god no!!”  

Lucien placed his hand over his heart dramatically. “Ouch, Feyre. My ego is fragile.”  

“Please, your ego is the size of the state of California.” Taking the distraction as the time to approach, Elain sidled up to the counter to face Vassa.  

"No jars to return, sorry! I’ll bring them next time.” Vassa half-heartedly gave her a stern look, before one slid down the counter.  

Vassa glanced once again assessingly before beaming a broad smile, her blue eyes shining brightly. “You’ve met Lucien as well?”  

Lucien cleared his throat. “Briefly, she came to see Feyre at work.”  

“Ah.” Vassa smiled knowingly, not seeming dissuaded from whatever she was scheming.  

Feyre looked at Lucien and then at Vassa.  “Did you tell her your dirty secret?” 

Lucien’s eyes widened and he glanced towards Elain. “What secret?”  

“You’re a tea drinker.”  

Vassa nodded solemnly. “A fate worse than death. But we keep him around for his good looks.”  

Feyre rolled her eyes. “If you say so.”  

Vassa nodded towards Elain’s empty bag. “Where are you two pretty ladies headed?” 

Elain smiled, about to explain about the macrame planter she planned on buying when Feyre chimed in, “Want to join us, Loosh?”  

She ignored the irrational spike of jealousy at Feyre’s close relationship with Lucien. Lucien, looked towards her.  

“Don’t call me that. I have plans with Jurian, if he ever gets off his ass!” The last part was yelled pointedly to where Jurian sat perched atop his pink sofa cursing at his computer. He threw up his middle finger towards Lucien without so much as a glance.  

Elain laughed, “With company like that, I can see why you can’t tear yourself away.” 

Lucien grinned as he looked her over, as if he might consider bailing on his friend after all. His eyes paused at her hands holding her empty tote bag ready to be filled with stickers and knick knacks she had no space for in her tiny apartment.  

“Nice bag.” He said it with his brows lifted and a cocky grin on his face. 

Elain furrowed her brows in consternation, wondering what could arouse such a response before she looked down at the beige bag hooked under her arm. Her face flushed with embarrassment as she stared at the I love public radio bag she’d earned for free at an event she’d volunteered at with Feyre. She reminded herself he couldn’t possibly know that it was his voice she thought about, he was just being playful.  

Still, she could have kissed Jurian when he trounced over, slinging an arm around her as he rolled his eyes at Lucien instinctively. “Are you bothering my favorite customer, Lucien?”  

“What am I then, you ingrate?” 

“A nuisance, clearly.”  

Feyre had become absorbed in her phone as she chewed on the corner of her lip. Only when the group had come to a comfortable silence did she look up. Elain stared at her drink sitting on the counter and reluctantly extricated herself from Jurian’s arm to go claim it.  

Despite having looked forward to the craft fair with her sister all week, a part of her was disappointed Lucien couldn’t come, that she might not have an excuse to see him after this. As they walked away, she found herself turning a half step back to look at him, some words lost on her lips. He too, turned to watch her, his jaw flexing as he waited for her to say something. Instead, she just turned and walked away with Feyre, squinting at the bright glare of the sun.  

**** 

Elain was lounging on the couch, Suri curled up by her feet as she half watched reality TV and scrolled through her phone. It wasn’t the most exciting Saturday night, but after a long week at work and a day out in the sun, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Open containers of rice and tofu still littered her coffee table that she’d had the foresight to pick up on her way home, knowing she wouldn’t want to leave once she enveloped herself in the blankets on her couch.  

Her view of the recipe blog was interrupted by a text from an unknown number popping up on her screen. A spam text, she reasoned, or something equally boring from her pharmacy. Still, she opened the message and her heart skipped a bit.  

Hey, it’s Lucien  Elain: Oh, hi it’s Elain. But you knew that already ☺️  Elain: Unless you were hoping for Feyre 👀  Lucien: Talking to Feyre during the work day is more than enough.   Elain: She wouldn’t text you back unless you were Rhys, anyway  Elain: Speaking from experience here  Lucien: Good thing I’m talking to you then 

Elain struggled to formulate a response. Was he flirting with her? He messaged her on a Saturday night, which certainly suggested more than a friendly message with his friend’s sister. The idea of flirting with Lucien Vanserra both excited and terrified her. After all, this was the man whose voice she woke into in the mornings, the same voice that sometimes visited her at night in her dreams. He’d seemed charming in the briefest moments she’d talked to him at his work and at the coffeeshop, but not alone. What if he was a creep? He did clearly get her number from someone else after all...probably Jurian. If he gets to be at the center of gossip, he’ll give any information away.  

Elain: A pleasant surprise...I think. Unless you’re trying to rope me into helping Vassa re stain their back deck, in which case, get lost. I already told her no three times.   Lucien: Damn, I never tell her no.   Elain: A dangerous state of affairs.  Lucien: I guess you’ll be sitting pretty next weekend while I’m sanding and staining.   Elain: She’s a micromanager too. Get ready to have your technique corrected.  Lucien: I don’t usually get corrected on my technique.  

Did he just? Elain couldn’t tell if he took his home remodeling tasks that seriously, or if he really was inserting a sexual innuendo into a conversation with a stranger about routine deck maintenance. Well, a little confidence doesn’t hurt, she supposed.  

Elain: Feyre did say today that you have a big ego.   Lucien: Casting aspersions on me already. I’ll remember that when she asks me to look the other way while she sneaks off with Rhys during work hours.   Elain: It’s sounds like you’re getting pushed around left and right.   Lucien: Your turn next.  

There was a pause, while Elain calculated what to say. Whereas before, she wasn’t sure if he had been flirting, she didn’t know how she could take this message another way. She wasn’t used to this. She’d been with Graysen for years, and for the last several he hardly noticed her at all, let alone took the time to flirt with her. Then, since their breakup, she’d taken time for herself, unwilling to give up her independence. Lucien, though... 

Lucien: What are you doing tonight?  

Elain bit her lip, taking a picture of her cartons of food and the reality TV in the background and sent it to him.  

Lucien: A wild Saturday night then? Let me take you out.  

Elain couldn’t help but laugh. It would take a fire to force her out of her pajamas right now.   Elain: Now? I’m in my PJ’s.   Lucien: Drinks on me. You can come in your PJ’s if you want. Fuzzy slippers and all.  

Elain thought about correcting him that she worse fuzzy socks, not slippers, but supposed it was semantics. The idea of getting dressed exhausted her, but she couldn’t deny the thrill of seeing him. When was the last time she felt, young, did something reckless?  

Elain stepped off the couch, extricating her feet gently from their warm spot under her cat. As she acclimated to her vertical position, she mentally calculated what it would take to make herself presentable.  

Elain: Nothing fancy  Lucien: Perfect, the bar down the street from Scythia’s? Rask? I can pick you up.  Elain: That’s alright, I’ll walk. See you there in an hour?   Lucien: I’m looking forward to it.  

Elain added a little heart to his message and then began frantically throwing apart her closet for something to wear. When did she buy so many cardigans? Everything in her wardrobe looked like it could have just as easily fit in at a retirement home.  

Under normal circumstances, she might have bothered Feyre or Nesta for something sexy to wear, or even Vassa, whose clothes were less sexy and more edgy and cool. But Elain did NOT want to admit what she had planned to Feyre, or Nesta by proxy, who would immediately reveal her secrets to their group chat, not to mention her friends. Vassa, too, would be left out of this given her and Jurian’s possible involvement. She couldn’t encourage them after that Koschei incident.  

Instead, she dug through all of her dresses, looking for something that looked appropriate to wear at night. She pushed past all her pastel dresses to one clingy number she’d bought on a whim and rarely worn, preferring loose styles that let her move freely. It was a deep green, simple, and yet it clung to her somewhat non-existent curves, giving her the illusion of breasts. Her hair was mussed from rolling around on the couch, she raked her fingers through the waves and hoped it appeared tousled rather than the bed head it truly was.  

It would have to do. She didn’t bother with makeup, deciding that if he wanted to bother her so late at night, he could see her barefaced. She spritzed on some perfume that she walked through as she headed out the door, grabbing her “I love public radio” bag along the way.  

It was a long walk, but the arm was warm and a breeze brushed against her cheeks. It smelled of the streets, cement and trash and that faint scent of something she didn’t care to imagine. She followed all the street laws, despite the diminished traffic in the evening, waiting at every crosswalk for the flashing sign to proceed despite the absence of any cars. Each pause had her rethinking, half tempted to turn and run back to the safety of her home and the comfort of her plants and her cat.  

This is what Vassa always teased her about. When they’d met, she’d been as social and outgoing as Vassa, able to match her energy from one house party and show and bar to the next. Recently, she’d become more of a homebody, favoring her plants and creature comforts in lieu of time in the outside world. She tried to remind herself she could do this, she’d never had a problem attracting men, besides.  

Lucien was an NPR reporter, an enthusiast of local politics and an active participant in the fall and spring fund drives. Surely, he couldn’t be a party animal either, with a call time of five AM or something else equally absurd. Still, it had been him who suggested they meet at the last minute. Was this a booty call? Would he still buy her drinks, then?  

It seemed a strange move to select your coworker’s sister for such an arrangement, but perhaps she was naive. She’d have to keep her head on her shoulders, even when he spoke to her with that low seductive voice or wore another well-fitted shirt that showed off his expansive chest. Elain squared her shoulders, resolving herself to be firm in her resolution not to go home with him that night as she entered the chaotic noise of the bar.  

Dim lights lit the space crowded full of people flanked at the bar and filling most of the tables. Along the back entrance, a group crowded around a pool table and the loud clank of balls rattling in the pockets reverberated against the cement walls.  

The low rasp of Lucien’s voice saying her name next to her ear startled her and she jumped, nearly falling over herself. His broad hands clasped her shoulders, holding her firm as he stood behind her.  

“I didn’t mean to startle you, I wasn’t sure you’d hear me if I called your name.”  

Elain turned to look at him, despite the part of her that wanted to lean into his hold, rest her head against his chest and allow herself to let go. Even in the grim lighting of the bar, he looked beautiful. His auburn hair cascaded around his shoulders, falling against his strong shoulders constrained within the fabric of his white shirt. He’d left more buttons loose than at the office, allowing her an unprecedented amount of skin. She wanted to reach for it, certain that his whole body ran hot, somehow. His hands on her arms had felt scalding against her skin.  

He looked at her, as if sensing the battle she had with her instincts. A smirk grew at the corner of his mouth as he stated “Cute pajamas. I almost wore my garfield pajama pants, I’m glad I changed my mind.”   

Elain laughed, feeling relieved to be more at ease. “You do not wear garfield pajamas.”  

“You’ll see.” She hoped she did, though she wouldn’t say so. Though she’d much prefer to see him out of the pajamas. “Should we grab a drink?”  

Elain nodded as he placed his hand at the small of her back, leading her towards the throng of people vying for the attention of the sole bartender. He towered over the crowd easily, an advantage Elain envied as everyone easily blocked her from view. He made some kind of gesture with a simple lift of his chin, and suddenly the bartender was in front of them. He motioned towards her, allowing her to order for herself.  

After Elain ordered a simple gin and tonic, he ordered his beer and they were seated at a table as far away from the exuberant noise as they could manage. Still, they leaned across the table to talk to each other, and Elain couldn’t help but breathe in the warm, woodsy scent of his cologne. His hair fell in front of his face as he spoke, and she longed to touch it, to tuck it behind his ear and see the scarred side of his face more clearly. It made him all the more beautiful, cruel and rugged despite his well-dressed appearance.  

“Well?” Elain looked towards him expectantly. He had invited her out to drinks, after all. Surely, he had some plan in mind.  

“Well, I’d like to get to know you, Elain.” He said this with a sultry tone that implied something different than the casual acquaintance he was offering.  

“Get to know me.” Though it was a question, the flatness of her tone implied that she doubted his claim very much. He wanted to sleep with her, and despite her earlier determination that she would not go home with him tonight, she found herself imagining undressing him, gently unfastening each of the buttons on his shirt and licking her way down as she went.  

“You seem surprised” He offered with a lift of the brow. “Is there something else you had in mind?” 

Elain huffed. “It’s you who invited me here tonight, Lucien. Get to know me then. Isn’t this what you do?”  

“Alright, you garden. Why?” He crossed his arms in front of himself, readying to rise to the challenge. 

“Why not? The world needs gardens.”  

Lucien smiled broadly at that. “Tell me more about that.”  

Elain bit her lip, thinking as she formulated a response. “It feels good to grow my own food, and to have some left over to share.” She paused, unsure if she wanted to share more. Lucien placed his hand face down on the table as if he might reach for her. “My family didn’t always have enough to eat growing up, and I couldn’t help” she corrected herself “didn’t help. I didn’t try. I don’t ever want to feel helpless like that again.”  

Lucien nodded, absorbing her words. “Food is what you like to grow then?”  

Here, Elain couldn’t stop her smile. “And flowers. The world needs some beauty, too. I grow native plants, so I can help the pollinators in the process. I help plant trees, too, once a month or so.”  

Lucien looked at her, his eyes full of warmth. “You’re incredible.”  

The flush on her cheeks bloomed, creeping down to her chest and up to her ears. “What about you? What do you like to do when you’re not on the radio?”  

“I like to be outside too, though I guess I take the more passive approach. I hike, swim, anything to be out in fresh air and sunshine.” Elain half laughed to herself, forcing down the joke about fresh air she was sure he’d heard too many times since working for public radio. “There’s a pond, outside of town, it’s beautiful in the spring. The water is a deep blue and I swear it shines like starlight. I could take you, sometime.”  

“I’d like that.” Elain didn’t hesitate, the offer of the clear pool and the company too enticing to feign resistance.  

After that, things were easier. Elain described the ill-fated hike she went on with Nesta and her friends, in which she’d vastly underestimated the training required to hike the Grand Canyon. Gwyn and Emerie completed the hike and Nesta very begrudgingly stayed behind with Elain after the first day when she couldn’t continue with her sore legs and the blisters on her feet. Nesta still didn’t let her live it down, promising never to take Elain on one of her trips again.  

That was just as well, Elain preferred the sort of vacations that involved exploring new cities and seeing sights to those that involved equipment and a rigorous fitness routine. She could see the Grand Canyon without climbing it, she reasoned.  

Lucien too, had stories of ill-fated travels, particularly those that involved Vassa and Jurian. Vassa once went missing for two days, apparently of her own choice. He laughed easily at her jokes, and sometimes his own, putting her at ease. It felt like she’d always known him somehow, rather than just the hour or two it had truly been. When there was nothing but the sound of ice clinking in her glass, Elain felt unsure of her next move. Should she offer to buy the next round of drinks? Invite him back to her apartment? While she weighed her choices, Lucien took action.  

“Should I get you another drink? Or do I risk the wrath of your bunny slippers?” He looked all too pleased with himself, and Elain huffed as she considered her response. 

“I’ll have you know they are socks, not slippers. You can come back to my apartment and see for yourself, if you’d like.” Her stomach twisted the moment the words left her mouth. The proposition was bold and entirely humiliating at the same time. Was there a less sexy way to ask a man back to your apartment than with the promise of fuzzy socks? If there was, she couldn’t think of it.  

Lucien, undeterred, leaned forward on his crossed arms. “Are you asking me to come home with you, Elain?”  

Elain stuttered, unable to form coherent words. Lucien, placed a hand on her wrist in encouragement. Thoughts of him holding her down by her wrists encouraged her to continue. “Um, yes?”  

Lucien didn’t wait any longer, dropping off their empty drinks at the bar before placing his hand again on the small of her back. “Let’s go.”  

The car ride was brief and Elain was both amused and unsurprised to learn than Lucien drove a very practical and environmentally friendly Prius, rather than something showy he surely could have afforded however he afforded the nice clothes one certainly couldn’t buy on a public radio salary. His hand found her thigh as he drove down the quiet streets. When he parked in front of her apartment building, her nerves caught up with her again. Casual sex was not Elain’s forte. She had a feeling Lucien had more experience in that arena, judging by the relaxed way he touched her or his boldness in leaving the bar.  

He stood closely behind her as she jingled her keys in the door, unlocking the several deadbolts she had in place from living alone. She could feel his breath on her neck. The moment they entered her small apartment, Suri raced to the door, weaving between Lucien’s legs. He didn’t react, standing in place taking in her apartment.  

“You like cats?” She tried not to squint her eyes as she reassessed his character. His first red flag, not immediately adoring Suri like most people who entered her apartment.  

“I’m allergic” he winced.  

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, her voice coming out haughty. “How allergic?”  

He held up his hands in defense. “Not that allergic.”   

“Suri’s not leaving, so.” She raised her brow as in indication that he could leave if he had a problem with it.  

“Dually noted. I’ll take some medicine in the morning, it’ll be fine.”  

“In the morning, huh?” Elain placed her keys on the hook on the wall and kicked off her shoes.  

 “I’ll be busy until then.”  

Elain was about to make a joke about him being over confident, when he stepped in front of her, placing his hand on her jaw. She gasped, leaning up to him instinctively. He met his mouth with hers, all force and heat. She reached up, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck as she had to stand on her toes to lean into him properly.  

She’d only just kissed him, and already she felt desperate not to stop. His lips felt plush against her own, his hands on her face both firm and tender. When his teeth grazed her bottom lip, she let out a whimper, her mouth parting. The slide of his tongue into her mouth might unfurled something in her. She understood why he promised to be busy all night. If he used his tongue like this, she would lock him in her apartment if she had to. She felt desperate, greedy for him to touch her, to her body align with his own.  

Elain gently pushed at his chest with the tips of her fingers and Lucien froze instantly, his body going still as he looked down at her in concern. “Sit” she ordered with more force than she anticipated. He turned his head towards where she gestured, walking silently to the couch next to her still open containers of food. He raked his hands through his hair, as if nervous the kiss had already ended poorly.  

“Elain, I” She cut him off as her knees dipped into the soft cushions of the couch straddling his lap as she settled on top of him. Her face cupped his cheek as the other roamed any exposed skin around his collar.  

“Lucien.” It was a plea, one said with half a breath, all she could manage when she felt the heat of his skin under her palm. The moment felt surreal, happening too quickly, and yet there was an anxious flutter pulsing in her that demanded more, faster. She didn’t have to wait long as Lucien pulled her closer by the waist. Unlike her own roaming, his fingers stayed where they firmly gripped her, the other settling on her calf where it rested on the other side of his thighs. Her dress pulled up higher around her thighs from the wide spread of her legs, revealing more skin. Yet he remained still, focused.  

His mouth began to move more freely as he licked a broad stripe along the side of her neck. She gasped and he nipped at it, before pulling her earlobe between his teeth. “Elain” he repeated, this time with his lips brushing against her ear. The feel of his breath and the desperation in his tone, almost whimpering, sent goosebumps along her arms.  

This was not just any voice in her ear, but Lucien’s. It was the same voice she heard every morning, and not. It had taken on a gravely tone, his voice raw instead of the smooth rolling tones that he used on the radio.  

She wanted to draw every note out of him. Elain rolled her hips, testing his reaction. It was her that moaned first, when she felt how hard he was underneath her. She wanted to look down, to guess at the size of him through his well-tailored trousers, but that would pull her away from the way he panted in her ear. She found she wanted that, more.  

She sank down further, grinding against him with force, allowing some of the friction to rub against the lace of her panties. The pressure sent jolts of pleasure directly to her clit. The chaste hand on her calf moved up then. Lucien slid his broad hand from her calf up her thigh to her waist, guiding her as she moved. “You’re perfect.” He groaned into her ear.  

His hips rolled up into her hers in a smooth, undulating rhythm. Every movement he made was easy and graceful. She’d hardly have described dry humping as elegant, but with Lucien, his soft hair curling around the scar on his face and the luxuriant tenor of his voice, it was. She felt more beautiful too, from the way he looked at her reverently. His eyes were half lidded and a hint of a smile at the corners of his lips as he watched her. He toyed with her hair, pulling gently at the nape of her neck to bring her lips back against his own.  

Instead of the soft, wet slide of before, she sucked a bit. He was completely in control, but his movements were never rough or sloppy, but exacting, each one edged with promise. Elain whimpered into his mouth, her nails digging into his shoulders. She needed more.  

“Take off your dress for me.” The words were a demand in her ear.  

Elain didn’t think before she complied, pulling her hands back from where they pulled at his shirt to grab at the edge of her dress, lifting it over her head with the arch of her back. He didn’t hesitate, moving his hands over every new exposed bit of skin. She watched his eyes as she unclasped her bra, revealing her admittedly small breasts. Lucien palmed each in a broad hand before roaming his thumbs across her nipples. He pinched one sharply, pulling another gasp from Elain.  

She liked the way Lucien took his time with her, never rushing to the next step, needing to take his own pleasure. Instead, he let his hands trace her body as his mouth dropped to one breast, laving at her nipples softly while he tweaked and pulled at the other. The combination of the sensations, both tender and demanding drove her wild. She’d never been so wet, all but slipping against her panties as she ground against him once more.  

She found she didn’t want to rush him, excited to see what he would do next. She did, however, begin to toy at the buttons of his shirt, almost hoping he wouldn’t notice as she undressed him. When she got half way to his abdomen, she couldn’t reach around his arms and huffed in frustration.  

Lucien, pulled back, smiling lazily up at her. “Did you need something, love?” 

“Yes, take it off.” He raised his eyebrows in question. “Please.”  

Lucien made quick work of the buttons before all but ripping his shirt off. Instead of the chance to ogle at his very muscular chest as she intended, Lucien lifted her easily by the legs before placing her back down on the couch on her back.  

Lucien didn’t crawl over her like she expected. Instead, he sank to his knees, pulling her legs over his shoulders. Elain flushed, embarrassed at how exposed she felt and yet unable to look away as his eyes roamed her body from this angle, taking in her face and breasts before looking at the obviously dark spot of red lace between her legs.  

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He praised as he began to run his knuckle up and down the wetness through her panties. He pulled, causing the fabric to rub almost uncomfortably against her clit. “Look at this pretty, pink, pussy.” 

“Lucien” she groaned. She didn’t want to rush him, but... She could feel his breath on her, and his hands running tantalizingly along her inner thighs. She needed something and she feared she’d lose control soon.  

Lucien lifted away from her legs as he pulled her underwear down her thighs tantalizingly slowly. He began his casual perusal again, soaking a thumb through her wetness. Just as she was sure he was about to start rubbing in earnest, he looked at her and gave one sharp slap against her pussy. Elain gasped, uncertain what would come next.  

He wasted no time, licking softly at the hurt, her clit now even more sensitive and desperate for his touch. His tongue licked broad stripes between her folds, moving down to circle between her opening. He felt warm and soft and wet and Elain already had to cover her mouth to contain herself from making noises that would certainly wake her elderly neighbors. Her other hand found his hair, pressing his mouth firmly against her as he sucked in sloppy open-mouthed kisses. The wet noises were obscene, ugly in a way she found satisfying from composed and debonair Lucien.  

Every time Elain felt her orgasm begin to crest, Lucien would pull away, sucking on her folds or delivering sharp bites to inner thighs. She began to feel frustrated, huffing and whining in hopes that Lucien would give her what she wanted. She knew he could and yet, he chose not to do it.  

It was different with some men, who could never make her come until she begrudgingly touched herself. Lucien circled the outside of her clit, just the barest of brushes, letting his saliva drip down until it collected with her own juices. He was completely in control, choosing what he would give her, all she could do was take. It frustrated her, and yet letting herself go to it felt better than she’d expected. Her thoughts were a blur, just heat and desire and that frantic feeling crawling up her spine. She couldn’t hold still, Lucien pressing her down with one firm hand. Her cunt ached, her clit throbbing. Lucien’s thumb continued to toy with her entrance while he lapped softly at her clit.  

She said his name over and over, begging. He looked up at her from between her legs with a wink. She watched with surprise as he moved one hand down to his own body, the sound of the zipper of his pants ratcheting up her excitement once more. Instead of moving on top of her as she expected, she saw the telltale sign of his arm pumping as he stroked his own cock as he continued to lick her. He began to groan as he licked, his breath hot against her skin.  

“Let me touch you.” She gripped the upholstery of her couch, trying to hold herself back. She couldn’t even see him, and she wanted to watch, at least.  

He flicked at her clit. “Do you want to come or do you want to touch me?” 

“Both” Elain answered immediately. What kind of question was that? You’d think he didn’t know her at all. Which, she supposed, he didn’t.  

“Lay back and be a good girl, Elain. You’ll come when I’m ready.”  

Lucien made a big show of increasing his own movements of his cock, cursing to himself as he sucked on her clit sporadically. Elain must be drunk on her need for an orgasm, because she could have sworn Lucien was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. Just watching his face and listening to the noises he made as he touched himself was intensely erotic.  

“Fuck, Lucien.”  

“Yes, Elain?” He lifted his face from between her legs, turning his head to the side to eye her curiously. 

“You’re so hot.” was all she managed. Like a god damned idiot. 

Lucien rewarded her with a broad smile, kissing the side of her knee before leaning back down and sucking at her clit. His tongue continued to stroke at her as he sucked and Elain’s orgasm arrived at last, her whole-body rocking with pleasure, her back arching and contorting, like she’d never experienced. His large hand came to cover her mouth, containing the unearthly noises she was releasing.  

When her body began to relax, Lucien came over her, kissing her as he ran soothing strokes up and down her arm. Elain, embarrassingly, clung to him with her arms and legs. He hummed a soft sound as he continued to press his lips against her own in a series of soft kisses. At last, Elain began to relax and came to the disturbing realization that Lucien hadn’t come. She reached between them to fumble for his cock, ready and eager to take over the job he’d already started. Lucien gently grabbed her hands, interlacing their fingers before holding her hands out to the side.  

“Next time.” He kissed her again, this time his tongue danced inside her mouth, his movements certain.  

He wedged his body besides hers on the narrow couch, and she shifted to make room, all but laying on top of him as her head rested on his chest. Still, it felt nice, her body relaxed and content as she nestled into him. His arm wrapped around her, his hand toying in her hair. It all felt intense and intimate for a random hook up. Still, he’d said next time.  

She would unravel it in the morning, she decided. Instead, she let her mind lull into nothingness, her hands focusing on the warm feeling of Lucien’s skin and tender way he pressed his cheek against the top of her head as his breathing slowed. 

When Elain woke on the couch the next morning, her first thought was that her neck was broken. She’d twisted into an especially uncomfortable position, her head at an unnatural angle and her leg all but falling off the side of the couch. Next to her feet sat a very angry little cat, who seemed perturbed that she did not sleep in her assigned place and she did not feed him on time.  

It was only after Elain began to sit up and realized that, yes, she was naked, that she remembered why she had slept on the couch at all. Lucien had been there, and apparently, left. She tried not to wince at the sting of rejection. Of course he left, there were all but strangers. Just because he’d eaten her out didn’t mean he wanted to stay for breakfast.  

Elain tried to calm herself, fighting the simultaneous outrage and disappointment as she fumbled to the bedroom for a t-shirt to throw on before beginning her morning. She looked at the radio, taunting her. It was the weekend, Lucien wouldn't be on the air, still it felt like an insult.  

Would she ever be able to listen to the news again? Perhaps she’d just become willfully ignorant of the world around her so that she never had to think of the news or reporters again. Or worse, she’d watch one of those exhausting twenty-four-hour news channels that grated on her nerves.  

Elain walked over to the drying rack to grab a clean bowl for Suri’s food when she saw the dishes from her Chinese food last night, washed and in the sink. She opened the fridge, eyeing her boxes of food neatly lined in the fridge. Well, if he meant to let her down easy by doing her dishes, she supposed there could be worse ways. Perhaps he hoped that she wouldn’t tell Feyre about it. Not that she would, she’d never live it down with her sisters. As she walked over to start her morning coffee, she saw a note scribbled on the back of a piece of mail set atop it.  

Elain -   I’m sorry I had to leave early. I’ve got to get home and walk my dog and I didn’t want to wake you.   I need to see you again.  -Lucien 

Elain smiled as she turned on the coffee pot and turned on the radio, an old episode of Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me playing as she went about caring for her plants. Was Lucien the kind of person that knew the answers? He seemed like he would be. Lucien seemed like the sort of person that would know the answers to all the trivia questions and be entirely too smug about it. Nesta would either love him or throttle him. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.  

***** 

Elain had never listened to the radio as avidly as she had the last few days. The thrill of a text from Lucien arriving mere moments after she stopped hearing his voice on air was something that wouldn’t get old. Was it normal to feel aroused while you listened to someone talk about air quality on the radio? Probably not. Still, Elain could have touched herself from listening to his voice alone. Every sound and clearing of his throat made her think of the way he moved his lips, how his tongue danced endlessly across her body. Whenever he took a particularly deep breath, she thought of the way he moaned into her as he stroked himself.  

Her life was a golden wash of Lucien, Lucien, Lucien.  

When Feyre texted her asking her to bring her coffee again at the studio, she all be leapt at the opportunity. Would it look desperate? She wasn’t sure she cared, as long as she got a glimpse of him from a distance, a sidelong glance where she could appreciate his tall form and the contours of his face.  

Everyone seemed too invested in her whereabouts and activities, and she all but pried herself away from Vassa, who asked her too many leading questions. Lucien must have let something slip, she supposed. Good friend though she might be, Vassa generally much preferred to talk about herself rather than hold an interrogation over Elain’s upcoming schedule.  

Feyre, too, seemed unnaturally happy to see her. She’d hardly heard from her at all in their group chat with Nesta the past few days. Feyre was busy with Rhys, swept up in her new relationship and ignoring the outside world entirely. Nesta never liked Feyre’s boyfriends and was already suspicious of Rhys, especially after she met his, apparently very annoying, friends.  

She brought the coffee to Feyre in her office, chatting with her about some black-tie event that Rhys planned to take her to, when she felt the recognizably warm presence of Lucien behind her.  

“None for me, hmm?” He said jokingly as she turned around.  

“You don’t drink coffee. You drink tea.” She said the last part with the appropriate emphasis of her disturbance at the idea. Who didn’t love coffee?  

“Don’t you have to finish your recording?” Feyre sniped at him from her place at her desk.  

Lucien smiled good naturedly, not taking his eyes off Elain. “Join me?”  

Elain didn’t know what she was agreeing to, would have said yes to anything, as she followed him through those gray carpeted hallways. They entered a small room with fabric paneled walls, with sound equipment set up along the sides as well as placed on a desk in the center of the room with two microphones.  

“Wow, this is neat. Is this where you usually record?”  

“For prerecorded stuff. There’s a bigger room for the morning when I have someone with me.” He grabbed her waist, pulling her gently towards him. “Now, I have a guest.”  

She craned her neck up to look at him as she stood closer. Lucien cupped her cheek, leaning in to kiss her, nibbling at her lip. Elain had all but forgotten where they were or what they were doing by the time he released her.  

Lucien turned, fiddling with the equipment and plugging things in as she watched in fascination. His face was casual, confident as he adjusted dials and made some kind of calculations she didn’t understand. He stepped back towards her and she watched as flipped on a switch on the wall labelled “recording”.  

“So no one bothers us. It turns on a light outside.” Elain nodded wordlessly as Lucien sat the chair in front of the microphone, taking a dramatic and pointed sip of his steaming cup of tea before flipping on the switch. Elain couldn’t help but smile and roll her eyes.   

Elain had heard Lucien’s voice many times by now, joking with his friends or the filthy words he murmured in her ear. This was different. Lucien’s voice was deep, smooth and authoritative as he recorded a segment on something she didn’t even bother to pay attention to.  

If he’d asked her for her opinion afterwards, she would have to admit her only opinion was on the way his mouth moved when he annunciated or the way his hands rested on his muscular thighs. What did a man on the radio need with muscles like those or a face like that? Whatever the reason, she was grateful that it benefited her, that she might get to experience if again if she played carefully. He’d said he wanted to see her again, hadn’t he? Hopefully he wouldn’t be too put off by her all but stalking him at work.  

By the time he was signing off, Elain’s thighs had grown slippery, her excitement palpable just at the sound of his voice. The whirring movements of the recording equipment could have just as easily been her, for how tightly wound she felt. When he leaned back in his chair to look towards her, Elain pounced. She strode over to him, standing between his spread legs to lick at his neck and wind her fingers through his long hair. Lucien didn’t miss a beat, his hands grasping at her ass as she nipped and licked at him, nothing but a smooth liquid glide against the satin material of her skirt.  

Lucien grasped at her chin, locking her eyes with his and taking control of her frantic exploration with her mouth. “Did you miss me, baby?”  

Elain nodded as he lifted up her skirt, trailing his fingers up and down her legs. Surely, he wouldn’t tease her again, here. They hardly had the time for it. It was the middle of the day and in other parts of the office people were filing paperwork and editing sound while Lucien dragged his hands up and down over her. When he arrived at the wetness gathering on her thighs, he hissed.  

“What's all this for? Did you like watching me?” Just like the night before, he gave her cunt a soft slap, the sound clear and crisp in the perfectly insulated room.  

Elain let out a sharp groan, arching up into his hand. He squeezed her waist before he turned her, tugging gently with her hair as be balled it into a fist. Every huff of his breath or the sound of her rubbing against him only drove her closer to losing her mind completely. She had no words for what she was feeling. She arched her back, letting her backside press up against the hardness she could feel. 

 She still hadn’t seen him or had the chance to touch him beyond the dry humping she’d engaged in on her couch. Holding her by her hair, Lucien pressed her forward, so that her chest was pushed against the desk. The knob of some piece of equipment or other pressed uncomfortably against her ribs, but she didn’t care. The pressure of the cold table against her sensitive nipples caused her to groan again, and she pinched at one absently through her clothes.  

Lucien lifted her skirt up over her hips, palming at the globes of her ass as he all but purred in appreciation. “Well?”  

He was asking her something, and Elain knew she would agree to anything he said right now. If he asked to fuck her live on air, she would have nodded her head just the same.  

The sound of a slap cut through the room as Lucien’s hand landed on her ass. Elain gasped her mouth open and drool dripping on to the table as he slapped again on the other cheek. She wasn’t sure she wanted to answer his question, wanted to see how long he would keep going like this. The pain was just enough to truly sting, though she knew if he kept going she would start to feel sore.  

One more hard slap left her rethinking her decisions and Elain craned her neck to look at him as she answered a simple “Yes.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” He demanded as he offered her another sharp slap to the other cheek. The recording light was still on, would warn anyone in the hall not to disturb them, and yet Elain’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment.  

He rubbed at her inflamed cheeks, which she could now see bore bright red handprints. “Yes, Daddy” 

“Good girl.” He leaned forward, his body over her as he kissed her deeply, his tongue moving languidly in her mouth. Elain whimpered as his mouth covered hers and she could hear the jingling sound of him unbuckling his belt. He pulled back to standing as she listened for the distinct sound of the ripping open of a foil package.  

Elain craned her neck to watch, taking in a full view of him naked in front of her for the first time. His cock bobbed in front of him, flushed a deep reddish purple from his arousal with swollen veins running up and down the length. It was long, the head of him reaching up to his navel, already wet and dripping down towards the thick base of him. Elain bit her lip, her mouth watering as she fought the urge to taste him.     

“Are you going to watch me fuck you?” Lucien asked as he lined himself up between her legs. Elain spread them wider, lifting her ass into the air in invitation.  

“Yes, Daddy.” Though she still felt a bit embarrassed, she spoke more confidently this time.  

Despite his tone, Lucien took his time pushing into her, allowing her to adjust to the stretch of him. He watched with open mouthed fascination, though he lifted his eyes to look at her and make sure she was comfortable. Elain couldn’t look away either, staring at the way the muscles in his abdomen tensed as he held control, moving slowly. At last, when he was pressed fully against her, he leaned forward, pressing his body on top of her own, avoiding the tangle of cords on the table as he paced his hands on either side of her. 

“Fuck, you feel so good Elain. You’re so tight on my cock.” He began to move in and out, the wet sounds of it the only thing she could hear.  

“Is that why you’re here, pretty girl? So, Daddy can fuck you?” Elain gulped down a yes as she panted out a rasping breath.  

“Next time, I need you to come on my face, too.” He began to pick up his pace hitting against her so sharply it almost hurt as his other hand pressed against her clit. She craved it, the sharp bite of each slap of his cock against her just enough to bring her close to the edge.  

“Be a good girl and come for me, Elain.”  

She did, her pleasure pounding and reverberating through her body as she shook. Lucien cursed and repeated incoherent praises in her ear about how wet and tight she was, what a good girl for coming when he told her to, as he lost his rhythm, his hips moving frantically as he came. Elain watched his face eagerly, pleased to see the feral snarl in his expression and the whimpering groan he made when he finished.  

He didn’t move as he kissed her softly, brushing his fingers through her hair before reluctantly withdrawing from her body. It felt wrong to suddenly be so empty, she found herself craving him again already. Lucien discreetly disposed of the condom before rushing back over to her, placing soft kisses along her cheek.  

“You’re beautiful.” Elain and answered with an affectionate touch of her own along his jaw. Gone was the feral man of a moment before, replaced by a softer Lucien, who drove a prius and left early in the morning to walk his dog. She rather liked both, she decided.  

Lucien let it a sudden sharp intake of breath, and Elain’s blood ran cold. If they’d been discovered, if someone walked in on her clearly fucking a man she just met in the middle of an office building, she’d never recover. She’d ask Nesta to take her out, a mercy killing. Instead, Lucien switched off the microphone in front of them.  

Elain gulped. “That’s not...” 

“Recording? Yes. I didn’t shut off the mic before we” he indicated to the space between them. Elain’s pussy clenched with arousal even as she stood, straightening out her dress and combing through her hair as if making herself presentable would make any difference. It’s radio for god’s sake.  

He must have seen her wide-eyed panic, because he squeezed her hand. “It’s not live. Thank god! Just recorded. I’ll take care of it, delete the recording and re-record my spot in a bit.”  

“Oh, okay.” It all happened too quickly. She wanted to go back to the way he’d been holding her tenderly, to the honeyed words dripping from his lips in the wake of his orgasm. Instead, he explained the logistics of how the audio was recorded, how he would most assuredly remove of all evidence.  

She trusted him, it was his job after all. It was one that would not be easily replaced, the city only had one public radio station. He looked a bit frantic, and Elain took that as her sign to leave, feeling suddenly awkward and a bit out of place.  

She reached up on the tips of her feet to place a kiss along his jaw, offering him a reassuring smile. “I’ll walk myself out.”  

Lucien pulled her in for a hug, his arms wrapping around her body. “I’m sorry about this. I’ll call you later, okay?”  

***** 

Elain calmed herself down with a trip to the garden center, wandering the aisles of newly sprouting plants and running her fingers through the damp top soil as she listened to Nesta on the phone, complaining about a coworker named Eris who apparently stole her reserved parking space. She didn’t need to say anything, just listen as she touched the leaves and breathed in the fresh air.  

She wandered home with a new plant for her windowsill, still feeling a bit out of her sorts. When she arrived at her apartment door, she found a bouquet of flowers sitting on her doormat, along with a simple brown paper bag. Elain took a moment, unlocking her door as she wandered inside to the chirping sounds of her cat.  

She leaned against her counter, flicking on the radio as she set down the flowers, her plant, and the mysterious bag with her name scrawled across it.  

She opened it to find a note from Lucien and a blank CD. Her face flushed immediately, understanding what it must be.  

Elain,  I’m sorry again for earlier. I’ve taken care of it, yours is the only evidence. You sound beautiful, by the way. You have a voice for radio.  Yours,   Lucien  

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 25th

Pregnancy, Papa Emeritus I x Reader

Masterlist

Words: 2.7k.

Warnings: Pregnancy; pregnancy sex; (consensual) groping; cunnilingus (I absolutely did not steal this scene from a previous Primo fic I wrote and change it up slightly, I don’t know what you’re insinuating but it is unappreciated and how very dare you); praise kink (y’all should know me by now); body worship; mild breeding kink; multiple orgasms;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog

🔞 MDNI 🔞

If Primo had his way, he would have you bed-ridden and away from the prying eyes of the rest of the Ministry. He wasn’t ever a possessive man, nor was he territorial, yet all that changed when you fell pregnant with his child. He hated members of the Clergy even so much as breathing in your direction, let alone looking at you or, Satan forbid, trying to hold a conversation with you. When other people made a reach for your pregnancy bump, he found himself slapping their hands away with his cane. That you were grateful for.

Apparently all personal space went out the window when you became pregnant, your baby bump was free real estate for strangers to touch without permission apparently. But you were always the bad guy when you told them to back off. You loved that Primo listened when you complained about it, and you were incredibly grateful that he was willing to take on the persona of the gumpy old man if it meant you could get some space.

However, behind closed doors, Primo was almost as bad as the rest of the world when it came to your personal space. He fussed, he worried, but he also groped. He simply could not keep his hands off you. Some of it was innocent, especially when he would come up behind you and gently lift your bump, giving you some respite from the heavy burden you had been carrying for so long. But most of the time his hands were just downright naughty with the places he gripped onto.

Your breasts were a particular favourite of his hands. Your pregnancy had made you grow everywhere, tits and ass included, and he was certainly a huge fan of this. The way you were now multiple cup sizes bigger, heavy with milk for your unborn baby - all maternal and ready to sustain the life you were creating. Not to mention the way you jiggled when you moved, the way your ass wobbled as you wandered around your chambers. He couldn’t help himself most of the time, he just had to have his hands on you.

The particular maternity dress you wore today was really pretty, and comfortable for you especially in the coolness of the Italian autumn. But it was particularly triggering for you partner given it showcased your breasts in the most perfect of ways, and fell over your hips giving you a tempting shape that he simply could not resist. All you were doing was standing there pouring yourself a glass of water. But that was a crime in Primo’s eyes that couldn’t go unpunished.

You felt his wandering hands over your hips, gloved digits stroking the clothed flesh and meandering upwards to cup your heavy breasts. His lips, hidden beneath his thin paint, caressed the back of your neck, tickling your sweet and sensitive spot. You giggled at the sensation, but couldn’t deny the instant arousal that flooded your cunt the second you felt his hands on your body. His arousal evident by the hardness pressed against your lower back, and transferring into you.

“What’s got into you?” You asked, turning your head to look at your partner over your shoulder.

“You look positively delectable, fiorellina.” He complimented, his voice muffled by your skin.

“You do realise we have meetings and many other things to do today, right?”

“Frankly, my dear,” he swivelled your hips and turned you around so he could see your face, “Non mi importa. Not when I want to ravish the mother of my child as she deserves, no?”

His lips met yours and grew more passionate the longer he was attached to you; his hands became more and more impatient with the clothes that were separating your body from his. Your own hands moved to grip his robes, pulling them upwards to have access to his hard cock. Primo hated wearing undergarments with his robes - they were long enough to cover everything so why would he bother with them? Though, with your pregnant belly, it was particularly difficult for you to play with him in the way you usually would - or even wanted to. “Papa.” You complained through kisses. “I can’t touch you.”

“To the bedroom, fiorellina. Let me touch you instead, sì?”

You nodded and wandered off to the bedroom, removing your panties when you got there and sitting on the bed to help you kick them off completely. When he walked into the bedroom, he helped you out of your dress, gently pulling the fabric off of you and kissing the exposed flesh. He always wanted to make sure you knew how he loved and appreciated you, even if he was rougher with you than he ought to be. Undressing you and giving you tender kisses was his way of doing that. Your bra was the next to go, and Primo groaned at the sight of your nipples, enlarged and erect, just begging to be played with and sucked on. He gave you one final kiss before sitting you back onto the bed.

“Lay back.” Primo ordered you, removing his mitre and placing it on the dresser where it usually sat. You did as he asked, lying back and watching him disrobe - naked in an instant. That thought always made you laugh.

He situated himself between your legs, staring at your glistening folds and taking in the glorious sight of them, wet and ready for him. Your swollen clit, red and aching, screaming at him to wrap his lips around them and provide you with the most pleasure. You were always ready for him at a moment’s notice before the pregnancy, but the hormones had made you ravenous and insatiable. Not that Primo was complaining, of course. You made him feel young again with the amount of times you wanted to mount him and take what you needed from him. He was always more than happy to oblige, enjoying his pregnant wife bouncing on his cock first thing in the morning.

He first placed kisses to your calves - gentle, soft pecks that were barely there, but sporadically timed so you didn’t know when they’d land. His fingertips delicately caressed any exposed flesh he could reach, adding another layer of sensation to the already soft touches. Though, you knew your thighs would be painted black and white from his paints transferring.

“Always so good for your Papa.” He whispered, his deep voice gravelly with decades of use. “Always so obedient and helpful.” His lips now had moved up to your pubic mound. You could feel his breath flow between your folds before he’d placed a kiss just above them, making you shiver in anticipation for that final touch.

Papa, at times, felt like a walking stereotype given his unmatched patience and languid movements. He liked to blame his age, but you knew he enjoyed torturing you slowly, like he was sustained from your frustrations alone. And so, when you had grown impatient and considered sitting up to tell him to let you please him instead, his tongue finally made contact. But this time it had no softness to it - this time he was brutal in his movements.

The initial lick was broad and rough, causing you to scream out unexpectedly. But this was soon followed by his lips suctioning themselves around your clit and sucking as hard as he could, giving you overwhelming pleasure that bordered on pain. With his mouth still closed around your clit, the tip of his tongue continued to work it in multiple directions, almost erratic with his ministrations. He continued like this for what seemed like eternity; his head even moving in all directions when he sucked on your sensitive bud to keep your pleasure as lively as possible. Usually, such intense pleasure would have your hands flying to his bald head, but your rather large pregnancy belly stopped you from reaching him, and so you had to make do with the sheets below you, gripping onto them as tightly as you could for purchase and to keep yourself from floating away. All the while he remained face-first in your core, unrelenting and unwilling to stop until you reached your peak.

He pulled away briefly so that he could spit on his fingers, placing them inside you and tapping upwards as his mouth worked on your clitoris. He fully intended to be inside you today, and needed to stretch you out to accommodate his size. Though, of course, you appreciated the deep burn that came with his cock filling you up, he couldn’t bear to hurt you, especially while you were hyper-senstive with the hormones your body was pumping through you to create and sustain life. Your walls were extra slippery today, and your g-spot so tender that a single touch had your hips bucking upwards quickly at the shock, despite feeling him stretch you. You called out, much louder than intended at the feel of his fingers perfectly abusing that spot inside you, dragging the utmost pleasure from your body and playing you like a fiddle he’d been playing for years.

“P-Papa!” You breathed, your body feeling like it was on fire. Your hands shifted from the sheets to pinch and play with your nipples. “I’m so close, please - fuck! - Please don’t stop!”

Primo only grunted in response, adding a little extra vibration when he did. He refused to stop what he was doing because he knew you’d lose that feeling. Instead, he upped his movements and heightened the intensity, causing you to finally tip over the edge and climax all over his face. Your back arched and your mouth fell open, with a string of expletives tumbling out of it. And Primo only stopped when you sat up and pushed him away.

He certainly was a sight to see emerging from your wetness; his paint around his mouth had completely dissolved, showing you his swollen pink lips, soiled with your cunt. There was a lazy smile on his face, and a cackle in his throat at the sight of your exhausted face, your eyes half-closed in sleepiness and your mouth wide open as you tried to breathe in as much oxygen as your lungs would hold.

“Are you ready for me, fiorellina?” He asked you, kneeling on the bed and placing your thighs over his.

“Yes, Papa. Please fuck me.”

He groaned at the way your voice moaned the last three words, bottom lip catching between his teeth and eyes roaming lower and lower until he was staring at your cunt again. His cock was placed at your entrance, ready to push his way inside you; and fuck, when he finally did? It felt like magic.

Your sensitive walls welcomed him with proverbial open arms as he slowly sank deeper and deeper into the warm recesses of your cunt. The head of his cock gently kissed your cervix as though it were welcoming him home after being apart for so long. Every inch he fed into you felt delicious as it stretched you out to fit him like a glove; a torturous yet spectacular feeling until his hips were flush to yours and his mouth released a breath of relief followed by a sharp hiss. The noise you made as you felt him breach you went straight to his cock, making it twitch as it was going in, causing you to moan even louder. Had someone been playing with your clit, you were sure you would have cum instantly.

“Papa!” Your voice was a desperate whine, a plead for him to be closer to you, or even start moving inside you. You needed him to do something.

“I know, baby girl. I know. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

You shudderred. “Please move!”

The first thrust was so intense you thought you were about to pass out, but all it was was a gentle movement. Your hands immediately moved back to the bed, clutching onto the sheets so tightly, you were ripping them from their tucked state. The second thrust felt just as good, and the third had your eyes rolling back. Soon enough, Primo had picked up the pace, rhythmic yet gentle movements that had your lungs gasping for air and your brain turn to mush. You, an educated and powerful woman, now lay a puddle of hormones and pleasure on your shared bed by the cock of a man significantly older than you.

The more he thrust, the more unbearable the feeling became. Your screams as an outlet to the sheer pleasure were not working anymore, and you’d now resorted to wrapping your teeth around the silk pillowcase that kept your head comfortable below you. Your back arched off the bed as much as it comfortably could, losing your mind even more now that his hips had picked up the pace. You were blissfully unaware of the way you looked, or how much you were making him suffer.

You were divine; a Goddess sent as a reward by Lucifer for all his hard work. Your body, carrying life that he’d helped create jiggling beneath him with the gentle force of his hips. Your thighs wobbling at the movements, your breasts, heavy, round and full, nice and plump and begging to be played with and sucked into his mouth. You always looked absolutely delicious, but right now you looked so tempting he almost wished you weren’t pregnant so he could fuck another baby into you this very moment. He released a deep, gutteral groan from your walls tightening around him after he’d told you that.

“Gonna keep pumping you full of kids, keep you knocked up as much as I can.” He continued. “You want that, fiorellina? You want me to keep fucking babies into you? Keep showing these fucks around the Ministry who you belong to?”

“Yes, Papa!” You screamed when you were finally able to release the pillow from your mouth.

His thumb came down to your clitoris and began rubbing circles in the tender bundle of nerves there, causing another scream to come out of you. “You can give me one more, can’t you?” He asked, his voice gentle and soothing.

You were almost sobbing. “No, Papa. I can’t.”

“Yes you can, fiorellina. Give me one more. Papa’s almost finished. One more.” He felt you tighten around him one more time as both his hand and his words tipped you over the edge. Your ears rang, your vision went white, your body tensed as he worked you through your second and final orgasm of the night. It felt as though you were exploding from the inside out, the feeling so powerful and incredible you could hardly breathe. All the while, despite the ringing, you could hear Primo in the distance somewhere talking you through it. “È tutto qui. That’s it, fiorellina. Breathe for me. Such a good girl for Papa. Cazzo! I’m gonna -”

Primo could barely finish his sentence before he stilled inside you, one final thrust that had him burying himself as deep as he could and emptying himself completely. Your sensitivity had you twitching each time he did, tightening involuntarily around him at each movement causing his orgasm to occur stronger than it usually did.

He pulled out and collapsed next to you, the room filled with nothing but your exhausted grunts and gasps for air at such an intense session. Eventually, when you were both strong enough, you made eye contact and laughed at each other despite nothing being funny. You wanted to move towards him and cuddle into him, but your body wasn’t responding the way you wanted it to today, so you settled for reaching for his hand.

Once you’d both calmed down, you began a conversation, filling the silence with more intimacy and sweetness as you still lay there recovering.

“Oh,” he said, remembering something important, “I will be home late tonight, fiorellina. My fratellini want an Uno night so I promised them I’d be there.”

“Good, it’s about time you got to spend some time with them. I know Papa Terzo has been down recently since they deposed him.”

“Sì. Thank you for understanding, amore mio.” He turned onto his side and cupped your opposite cheek, kissing the one closest to him. “Ti amo.”

“I love you, too.” You told him. “Now go tend to your garden. I need a nap. You’ve broken me.”

“Mi dispiace, fiorellina. Sleep well.”

Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

[eldritch-spouse]

'cheese tax' but it's 'milk tax' anytime you're breastfeeding your baby with Morrel and Gluttony demons present (minus Vorticia since no babies with her)

Morell just asks straight up to milk you. Lord knows he'd love to make all kinds of things using your milk specifically. You might have to tell him to be gentle with those big hands more than once, because he's prone to forgetting how sore your breasts can get. The chef makes sure you're eating well so you're "always ready to make more", even if that's not quite how it works.

Obie's just an opportunist. Unoccupied titties? Free real estate. Pull your shirt off. He's surprisingly good at not pricking you with his needle-ish teeth, but you will have to pry him off eventually, or Obie will drain you. This is easier said than done, try waving other types of food next to him. Don't worry about moving, he'll just follow you around.

Rieba has the decency to ask. But this means she's just going to drool and kind of follow you around if you deny her. She takes less from you and the intervals at which she wants more are spaced out in a much more manageable way than other gluttons' due to her self-discipline.

Berle decidedly wants to use some of your milk to help maintain or even make new ice cream monsters. Really, it would be his pride and joy to have such a privilege! Not only does a mother's milk give a whole different tang to the monsters, it's also yours specifically- Meaning, in his eyes, it's the best possible source of milk.

Vorago wants to think he's above just asking to have your milk. You'd probably get weirded out, wouldn't you? Little does it matter as it's extremely obvious what he wants. His tusks make things a bit awkward, but Vorago does make sure you're completely comfortable when you're nice enough to let him indulge.

[gryficowa]

Here are the common features I saw among Zionists on the Internet:

They have the Israeli flag on their profile picture (Seriously, it's weird, I can understand the Palestinian flag, because it's not the first time people showed support like that, it happened with the French flag at one point, but yours? Strange)

They often have Hebrew in their descriptions (Although their blog is usually in English) and mention that they are Jews (It's probably not a crime, but it does its job with Hebrew… I don't know why, but when I came across Zionists, their description always has words in Hebrew and mention that they are Jews…)

Of course they are bullshitting around the clock on October 7 and blaming Hamas (Because even the Palestinians themselves are Hamas to them)

David star, related to the flag of Israel, but sometimes you can come across a Zionist with this symbol on his profile, not every person with this symbol on his profile is a Zionist (I saw one person in the tags about free Palestine who talked about what Israel is doing to the Palestinians, so yeah , compared to the flag of Israel it is not so certain, is anyone a zionist?

Of course they will deny the existence of Palestinian Jews, what do you require? That they accept other Jews who are not European?

They will use your ethnicity and origin as an attack (Poles, Germans and Muslims)

Of course you will meet Zionists who will claim that other Holocaust victims are "Stealing Jewish things"

Profiles without profiles, but entire blogs are fucking porn

They will attack other Jews in the comments for supporting Palestine, using the texts "You hate yourself" or "They would kill you there"

Of course they will defend Israel's crimes, because the Torah told them that they deserved this land, so fuck the indigenous people (Which they are not, because they are Europeans, or possibly Asians)

Threatening with rape because their level is typical of housing estate pathology

Everyone is anti-Semitic, even Jews, what the fuck don't you understand?

They use information as fresh as a student's sandwich left in the haversack all summer long

Of course, for every crime committed by Israel, they will go into "But Hamas!" mode

They love pinkwashing and homonationalism, unlike LGBT+ people who don't buy this shit

They love to see themselves as victims when real victims want to hit them with a frying pan

Racism, Islamophobia, anti-Semitism, Zionism in a nutshell

Their empathy went out for milk and didn't come back for decades

Sure they will call you a Nazi even though they collaborated with the Nazis, which sounds legit

They swear more than a typical Pole

They don't know the difference between manja and swastika, but they themselves wouldn't want their star to become a symbol as they see manja, which has nothing to do with Nazism, and also has a rich history and has been around longer than Hitler stole it, yes, it makes a lot of sense , yes, it references the Pokemon controversy because oh god! In the Japanese version there is manji, and this kata was imported! Obviously it's time to cancel Japan!

They are so fucked up that they enjoy raping Palestinians and dying children…

Yes, Polish anger, when Damian Soból died, Israelis started memeing it and calling him a Nazi (And from Hitler), so I don't have much to add, I won't forget it

I don't know why but a lot of Zionists are LGBT+ which is weird, it just sounds sus (I'm aroace)

Many Zionist blogs have "Anti-Semitism" in their names, which is interesting

They consider Poland a country that cooperated with the Nazis, which is a lie, Poles were victims of the Nazis, and many died in concentration camps along with the Jews

Of course they appropriated the watermelons, because Zionists only know how to steal (Oh, you can see how much Polishness they have)

You can fight for Sudan and Congo, but you will be an anti-Semite because you are also fighting for Palestine, what don't you understand, you stupid non-Jew?

A text about Ukraine, because of course, white people have to be in the spotlight all the time, and the rest? They not white so they has to die, typical mentality…

Of course they use the Jewish tag, because it is known that Zionists must represent the Jews, no, good plan (They probably think they are safe, no, you won't be safe, we will harass you for supporting the genocide)

Yes, these are many of my observations (But probably many others had them too)

Zionists are simply trying to disguise themselves, but the truth is that it looks like manipulation to them, which is shit

[beardedmrbean]

Argentina Scrapped Its Rent Controls. Now the Market Is Thriving.

BUENOS AIRES—For years, Argentina imposed one of the world’s strictest rent-control laws. It was meant to keep homes such as the stately belle epoque apartments of Buenos Aires affordable, but instead, officials here say, rents soared.

Now, the country’s new president, Javier Milei, has scrapped the rental law, along with most government price controls, in a fiscal experiment that he is conducting to revive South America’s second-biggest economy.

The result: The Argentine capital is undergoing a rental-market boom. Landlords are rushing to put their properties back on the market, with Buenos Aires rental supplies increasing by over 170%. While rents are still up in nominal terms, many renters are getting better deals than ever, with a 40% decline in the real price of rental properties when adjusted for inflation since last October, said Federico González Rouco, an economist at Buenos Aires-based Empiria Consultores.

Milei’s move to undo rent-control regulations has resulted in one of the clearest-cut victories for what he calls “economic shock therapy.” He is methodically taking apart a system of price controls, closing government agencies and lifting trade restrictions built up over eight decades of socialist and military rule in an effort that has upended the lives of many Argentines.

In Buenos Aires—a city dubbed the Paris of the South for its broad avenues and cafe culture—many apartments long sat empty, with landlords preferring to keep them vacant, or lease them as vacation rentals, rather than comply with the government’s rent law.

In 2022, there were some 200,000 empty properties in Buenos Aires, up 45% from 2018, according to a report by Cedesu, a Buenos Aires-based policy group that focuses on urban development. Finding an affordable apartment under the rent-control law was difficult.

Aldana Oliver spent about 18 months looking for a place to rent when she left home for the city of La Plata to study dentistry.

“There were few places to rent and those available were very expensive,” said Oliver. After rent control was scrapped, she quickly found a studio apartment for about $200 a month. “I found something really nice. And I got a good price,” she said.

Many new contracts—now permitted in dollars as well as pesos—stipulate rent increases every three months, real-estate agents and tenants say. That has made housing costs unaffordable for some people already struggling to pay higher food and utility prices, said Gervasio Muñoz, who represents an association of tenants in Buenos Aires.

Romina Misenta, a 40-year-old teacher, said rent on her small apartment increased almost threefold when her previous contract ended.

“My situation has worsened a lot,” she said. “I would be paying a lot less in rent if the previous law was still in effect.”

Still, rental prices appear to be stabilizing. Monthly price increases are now at their lowest rate since 2021 as more apartments become available, according to Zonaprop, Argentina’s largest real-estate website.

The Milei administration has also scrapped price controls on staples such as milk and sugar. The president lifted controls on cooking gas, removed export controls on beef and cut government requirements to import steel, hoping to ease construction costs.

And he ditched the restrictions he said made renting an apartment an odyssey that hurt those it was trying to help.

Critics of Milei say he is deepening the economic pain of the working class. And while he remains popular, some polls show his support eroding. In August, he had a 45% approval rating, down from nearly 60% earlier this year, according to pollster Giacobbe Consultores.

“By freeing up prices, it’s very difficult for all these people, including us, to get to the end of the month,” said Amalia Roggero, whose soup kitchen in La Plata has experienced a surge in people seeking food.

Milei, a libertarian economist, long warned Argentines that his free-market changes would initially make conditions worse before they got better as he slashed public spending to tame inflation. He said it was necessary to unravel tight economic controls he inherited from the previous, left-wing Peronist government, which implemented price controls on some 50,000 products from food to clothing as part of its Fair Prices program.

Milei says his measures are delivering results. He is projecting annual inflation of 18% next year, down from the current 237%, one of the world’s highest rates, as he works to tame the never-ending fiscal deficits at the root of Argentina’s decadeslong economic turmoil.

But the government still faces substantial challenges. Bringing inflation down even further after being stuck at roughly 4% a month in recent months will be difficult, with little room for more spending cuts amid demands to restart public works and increase pensions and wages, economists say.

“They inherited a disastrous economic situation, and getting out of this mess will take time,” said Alberto Cavallo, a professor at Harvard Business School who has studied Argentina’s price controls.

At least for now, the housing market is thriving. Opponents of price controls say Argentina is a cautionary lesson for officials from the U.S. to Europe who have looked to curb surging housing costs with rent controls.

President Biden recently called for some rent increases to be capped at 5% annually. And Vice President Kamala Harris said that if elected president she “will take on corporate landlords and cap unfair rent increases.”

González Rouco, the economist, warned against such plans. “With good intentions or a law,” he said, “you can’t modify how markets work. They have their own dynamic.”

In Argentina, the national rental law approved in 2020 during the left-wing government of President Alberto Fernández required a minimum three-year contract. The rents had to be paid in pesos, the country’s volatile currency, which lost about 90% of its value against the dollar on the black market during Fernández’s 2019-to-2023 term. Rental prices could be increased annually but at a rate set by the central bank, which took into account inflation and worker salaries.

With Argentina’s history of high and volatile inflation, property owners took steps to protect themselves from inflation that would quickly eat into the rents if they were forced to wait 12 months before raising prices.

They instead jacked up the starting price for new leases, making it far too expensive for many people to sign a new contract. That resulted in the average rent for a two-bedroom apartment in Buenos Aires costing 27 times the price of 2019, according to Zonaprop.

Some landlords tried to sell. Others listed them on short-term rental sites such as Airbnb, where tourists paid in dollars. Landlords also focused on renting to people within their social circle, resulting in a big black market with informal rental deals that skirted government rules, economists say. Many apartment owners simply mothballed their properties.

“You’d never see rental signs in windows,” said Mariano García Malbrán, the president of the chamber of real-estate companies, describing how rent controls led to shortages. “And properties that were listed with real-estate companies would be gone in a day or two.”

[boasamishipper]

I was rereading Judicial Impropriety tonight (seriously so very hyped for Harry's POV!!) and I decided to go through your dan x harry tag and I saw that you mentioned a "they both raise abby" AU in one of the posts about slow burn but not really - is this another one of your WIPs because it sounds amazing! :D

hi nonny! it may please you to know that i've just posted the first chapter of Code of Conduct, aka harry's pov of how he and dan get together in Judicial Impropriety. hope you enjoy! 😄

to answer your question, the 'dan and harry raise abby' idea is an au that my dear friend @bornforastorm and i plotted together over discord one afternoon. will i ever write it? never say never. for now though it lives in my head rent free. here's the gist:

in the early 2000s, harry discovers that he actually Does Not Like living upstate and wants to move back to the city. gina wants to stay in skaneateles. they end up divorcing and harry gets full custody of abby - yay! except real estate in the city is So Expensive. luckily for harry, dan (who was widowed around a year before harry got divorced) has a spare bedroom and is more than willing to indefinitely put up his best friend / unrequited crush and his best friend / unrequited crush's precocious tween daughter.

harry is so busy trying to find a job (and so torn up about his marriage ending) that dan ends up taking abby out a lot. except he has no idea what to do with kids so they end up seeing r-rated horror movies together and throwing rocks at pigeons in the park and scamming people at fancy restaurants and toy stores by telling them that abby has six months to live.

abby may be perky and sweet but (like harry) she has no qualms about roasting dan like a melange of seasonal vegetables

abby: look at my dad's high-waisted roommate, he's got feminine hips! dan: no!! that's the thing i'm sensitive about!!

alternatively: dan: my hips are VERY manly excuse you!! tell her harry harry, so horny he's going to die: they're fine

turns out!! harry might have a thing for dan. a small, tiny, miniscule thing that he's pretty sure started the minute they shook hands in his chambers. this small tiny miniscule thing is not helped by the fact that harry now has to spend 24 hours a day in a two bedroom apartment with his unrequited crush of over a decade.

speaking of the two bedroom apartment thing. so abby takes the spare bedroom. obviously. that makes sense. harry crashes on the foldout sofa for about a week. then he learns one night that dan still has nightmares about the plane crash, so out of the goodness of his heart, he offers to stay with dan in dan's room until he falls asleep. and then they both fall asleep. and then the next night they fall asleep in the same bed. and the next night. and the next night. and every single night for the next year they platonically share a bed.

at the one year mark sleeping together becomes sleeping together. neither of them have gone out with or slept with anyone else in all that time. neither of them admit that they are in love with each other. after all having sex with each other is still totally platonic since they don't kiss.

they go to each other's work events and abby's parent teacher conferences as each other's completely platonic date.

harry: this is my best friend and platonic co-parent slash roommate dan: also bedmate harry: right that too abby: you sound like a yuppie harry: You Take That Back

abby: are you and dan dating harry: what!!!!!!!! no!!!!!!!!!!!!! why would you think that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! abby: you share a bed harry: to save space so you can have your own room!!!!! also because he has nightmares from almost dying and i have nightmares about him dying so it makes sense we sleep together!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! abby: wow you need help

abby: i can snort chocolate milk out of my nose, want to see dan: that's disgusting and also impossible abby: no it's not. i bet you could do it. here, drink some dan: [drinks] abby: are you in love with my dad dan: [snorts chocolate milk out of his nose] abby: [covered in milk and snot] i knew it 😈😈😈

the second she figures out they're both in love with each other abby tries to matchmake dan and harry. the subtle approach does not work since they're both idiots, so she stages a hunger strike until dan and harry kiss.

dan: [kisses harry on the cheek] abby: pathetic

this all culminates with abby telling dan that she and harry found a new place to live (they didn't) and dan runs to harry's office at columbia like Do Not Move Out, Live With Me Forever, I Love You (but if you don't feel the same way ignore that last part)

harry, extremely confused: i love you too????????? student taking a makeup exam in harry's office: i'm just gonna head out

harry and dan, who have been having sex for over a year but have yet to actually kiss, spend the next four hours making out on harry's desk

harry: i feel like i'm forgetting something dan: it's probably not important if you can't remember harry: you're right abby: [standing in the pouring rain at soccer practice] 😈 i'm gonna get so much mileage out of this 😈

things about abby stone-fielding:

she is the queen of Wait Til My Fathers Hear About This

she threatens people with I'll See You In Court every time something does not go her way

she takes after her fathers in that she is a very intense dork and a fiscal conservative and flirts like a fiend but is terrible at it

she pulls the 'if you do this for me you'll be my favorite father' trick on harry and dan constantly and they fall for it every time

she also calls dan and harry both 'dad' and expects everyone (including dan and harry) to figure out who she's talking about

she tells everyone she has a secret third dad named reinhold and dan threatens to emancipate her when he finds out harry, sliding her twenty dollars: keep it up

abby's teacher: so abby told the class her goal is to go to law school so she can sue the government and take over the country dan: she gets her ambition from me 🥰 abby's teacher: she then proceeded to put an apple in her mouth and played the flute with her nose harry: [crying] that's my girl

[shadysadie]

Papa Noceda meets Wittedad

A fanfic based on @emerald-entrails-hunter‘s Wittedad Timepool AU, which lives in my head rent free now, so thanks for that.

It had been a few months since Manny and Camila had moved to Gravesfield, and Manny was still unsure what he wanted to do with the abandoned cabin on the edge of their new property. He considered turning it into a workshop for making more advanced cosplay, the kind that required stuff like resin and needed days to dry. But Camila rightfully pointed out that until they had kids there was plenty of room for that kind of stuff in the basement, and the cabin didn’t have electricity, so it would make for a terrible workshop. Still, it felt wrong to continue to let the old cabin rot, it was as old as the town itself according to the real estate agent. Perhaps he could talk to someone at the Gravesfield Historical Society about fixing it up and turning it into a little museum for the colonial walking tours, there seemed to be a lot of those in this part of the country.

But any plans Manny had for the cabin were just that at the moment, plans. Right now he had his hands full settling down to his new job as an editor for a small book publisher. Camila started working for the local vet clinic. And as newly weds they had other things on their mind. So as things were, the most attention Manny could spare for the old cabin was his daily walk-through to chase off any possums or raccoons that were nesting in the walls, Camila was adamantly against the idea of setting up traps, even if they were no-kill. So as a result the pests would always come back immediately after Manny chased them off with a broom. He was pretty sure they were laughing at him behind his back, but if it kept Camila happy, Manny was happy (even if the whole thing did feel rather sisyphean).

He was just heading out for one of his sweeps when he heard something far different than the scratching of a raccoon. He paused, wondering if his ears were deceiving him. But they weren't. He could hear the distinct sound of a baby crying. Followed by someone shushing. Perhaps the rational response would have been to back away and contact the police, but his curiosity was stronger than his caution. He pushed open the door of the cabin.

Manny heard someone's breath catch in fear. The morning sun crept through the holes in the roof, but the corners of the room were still shadowed. It took Manny only a few moments to pinpoint the source of the crying. There was a man, huddled down in the corner, half hidden under a dark hooded cloak. He was desperately trying to soothe the wailing, wiggling bundle in his arms.

"This is private property." Manny announced, though it was difficult to harbor any anger towards the squatter once Manny got close enough to get a good look at him. The guy looked ragged, several large cuts marred his face, presumably more were hidden under dirty gauze. His skin was dirty and he had heavy bags under his eyes. He was dressed like a historical reenactor, but his clothes were in terrible condition. The baby didn’t seem to be in much better shape. His blanket looked more like a rag, and his little body was wrapped in bandages. “¡Dios mío! What have you been through, Buddy?”

The man looked too frightened to respond right away. He cowered away from Manny, curling himself protectively around the baby. Manny realized he was still holding the broom he used to chase possums, which must have seemed like a weapon. He put it aside and held up his hands.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Manny promised. “You look like you could use some help.”

The man looked uncertain for a moment. There was a chirp and he looked over at a small red cardinal perched nearby. The man must have decided that he didn’t have many options at this point other than to trust the person in front of him.

“He is hungry.” The man said, with a look of desperation, “But I have nothing to feed him. Do you perchance have a cow or goat that could spare some milk?”

“No goats, no. But there is a super market down the street, I could probably manage to find you some formula.”

“Formula?” He looked confused.

“You know, baby formula. Synthetic milk.”

“Such a thing exists? Then if you could aid me in acquiring some, good sir, I would be forever in your debt.”

Manny wondered if this guy could have possibly run away from an Amish or Mennonite community, that would explain his clothes.

“You wait here, I’ll be back."

Manny ran to the store, he picked up a few bottles, some formula, diapers, a first aid kit, and a deli sandwich. The man was still in the cabin when he got back.

"Here, try this." Manny handed him the bottle. The baby resisted it for a moment, but as soon as he realized there was food in it, he instantly calmed down and started suckling on it. The man let out an exhausted sigh of relief.

"Thank you, my friend. I know not how I can ever repay you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not about to let a baby starve if I can help it. My name’s Manuel Noceda, but you can call me Manny, everyone else does.”

“I am called Caleb Witte…er…Clawthorne, Caleb Clawthorne.” Manny raised an eyebrow but didn’t bring attention to the fact the man was clearly trying to hide his last name.

“Nice to meet you, Caleb. Does the little one have a name?”

“Hunter.”

Hunter was sucking down the milk so quickly he collapsed the nipple of the bottle. When he opened his mouth to cry in protest of the food stopping it refilled and he resumed drinking. Manny wondered how long it had been since the baby had gotten any food in him.  

"Here," Manny offered Caleb the Sandwich, "you look like you could use a bite to eat as well. I also got a first aid kit, when you're done eating you can clean and re-wrap your injuries."

"Thank you."

"So where are you from? How did you end up here?"

"I doubt you would believe me if I told you."

"I'll believe just about anything if it's a good enough story."

Caleb seemed to consider this. Hunter finished his bottle and fell asleep. The cardinal flew over down from its perch and settled on the sleeping baby. Manny had never seen a bird act that way before.

"I used to live here." Caleb said, "It was the only place I could think of to come back to."

"Here as in Gravesfield? Or Connecticut?"

"This house."

Manny blinked, "This house has been abandoned since the 40s."

Caleb looked shocked, "No one has lived here since the 1640s?"

"What? No, the 1940s."

"Surely you jest, have I really arrived in the 1900s?"

That was strange, Manny and Camila had visited Amish country during their honeymoon, and yes, they lived without modern technology, but they still knew the date. Maybe he wasn't Amish after all, maybe he escaped from a cult or something like that.

"Buddy, it's 2004."

"What?"

"See, look." Manny pulled the receipt from the bag. Printed neatly under the name MinuteMart was the date June 3, 2004.

Caleb shook his head, wide-eyed in disbelief, "400 years…"

Manny felt a pang of sympathy for the man. Definitely a cult survivor, he decided, some strange cult that must have convinced its members it was back in the 1600s for some Godforsaken reason.

"Listen, I don't know what you're going through, but I'm not using this old shack anyways, if you're willing to help me fix it up you can stay here until you figure out what you're going to do next."

"Do you mean that?"

"Of course, you seem like you’ll be less trouble than the raccoons.”

Caleb smiled with tears in his eyes. Manny wasn’t sure if letting a strange run away cult member live in his backyard was the wisest decision he ever made, but somehow, he knew he wouldn’t regret the decision.

[woozten-x]

#. 𝘼𝙨 𝘿𝙖𝙮𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙃𝙚𝙡𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨 | 𝙉𝘾𝙏 127

‹3 im really tired to find gifs so have boyfriend material photos of them

[ ; M.List including other Neos! ]

─ Context: NCT 127 were invited to a daycare to become volunteers on taking care of the children! It was quite an experience for each individual, but it was one where all of them clung onto this day as an endearing memory.

─ Genre: Headcanons, Humor, Wholesome/Fluffy

─ Length: 8 SHORT bullet points for each member!

❒ a/n: needed to work on a small project to prevent a burnout :,) felt a bit iffy with my writing lately, so i decided to work on this for some humor and just more relaxed writing. hopefully, you enjoyed this as much as i wrote it! this one was definitely fun to write!! this was mainly inspired by the kindergarten teacher videos with jungwoo, taeyong and jaehyun + return of the superman since i was watching some clips of it  ₍ᐢ‥ᐢ₎

!! Johnny .

Not awkward but he definitely intimidated a few kids by accident. He didn’t even do anything, but maybe breathed wrong in their way or something

Started fake crying with a kid who ended up in tears for no reason and made a disgusted face when some kids showed off the beetles they caught; honestly, he let his intrusive thoughts win there he didn’t mean any harm

This 6”1 ft. man for some reason has the tendency to fit himself in every child toy (especially the bike) and endanger all his limbs with a cursing ache of regret; he definitely almost broke one of the toys after sitting his ass down and trying to ride it properly

VERY popular with the boys, they just love how chill he was especially when they started playing hide and seek or the monster has been released to chase them; he is a trooper for keeping up with their energy

Laid on the floor once to relax, but then these kids came up to him and climbed on him like he was a new installment of a rock climbing wall

Piggybacks for the kids and an aching back at the end of the day tbh

Served lunch for the kids and looked at the lunch to only comment that these kids eat better than all american schools combined he is right

Bonus: Had to comfort a little one, who got hurt, because they instantly went to Johnny in tears. “I got a boo boo!” The little one cries out and Johnny is cooing back, “You got a boo boo?! Let me see!” and he is opening his arms for the little one to approach him with tears and grabby hands. Took the time to clean up the little scrape and carry the little one around in his arms to cheer them up <3

!! Taeyong .

We all know Taeyong is a father of 22 children, this is not a hard job for him; in fact, he is incredibly gentle and is the most favored by the children because of his encouraging attitude

Looks incredibly tiny in the kid seats, but honestly he is sitting like a shrimp and he knows damn well his back is at risk at that very moment

He listens to whatever the teachers at the daycare say, encouraging all little ones to listen and he would help them if they needed it; crayons missing? someone spilled milk on the table? He is already there with a new pack and ready with paper towels and a spray

His lap? The kids think it’s a free real estate and are climbing on him for attention

EVERY child is looking up to him for his praise because he is always saying the nicest things to give these children a ego

But, he isn’t afraid to be strict sometimes - he is incredibly aware of his surroundings and he definitely stopped two kids from fighting one another for the last animal cracker

Had taught a group of children the 2 baddies dance challenge and taught them to say “2 baddies 2 baddies 1 porsche!” and honestly he led a cult of children to say that very thing; he prays that baddies is not a bad word though after reality hit him

Bonus: Was given so many gifts like flowers and pieces of fruits or crackers from kids, he definitely placed a flower behind his ear while eating like a king. Suddenly, every child is telling him all their dreams while offering whatever they can provide to Taeyong like he is some God - that’s okay though. Taeyong loved the fact that he was a favorite <3

!! Yuta .

He lied to the members before that he stayed in a daycare overnight because he fell asleep for so long that he got locked up in there (this is an unconfirmed fact)

Another quiet one, but he isn’t standing around - he is smiling at every child making eye contact with him because he finds them so cute

Can’t contain the cuteness so he would squish/pinch their cheeks lightly and pat their head, as some form of affection given towards them

Popular with the quiet kids that sit at the table to draw or read because he joined the table to draw himself; kids drawing are definitely asking him what he’s drawing and watching him draw

Told the children that Mark is spiderman and he has amazing reflexes, and is the most talented member on the team

Saw a kid eat crayons and panicked, telling them not to eat that and giving them paper instead like that's going to help the child’s gluttonous appetite

A lot of the kids showed off their drawings to him and he is asking if he could have some of them; at the end of the day, he has a handful of drawings in one hand and possibly remembered every little one’s names and faces by the end of it

Bonus: when playing outside, he played soccer with the kids; he is very popular with the soccer kids and they are asking why he became an idol instead of a soccer player - at some point of time, one of them even said he could have been the next Messi/Ronaldo and Yuta said that he wouldn’t have met the other members if he wasn’t an idol <3

!! Doyoung .

Tried to compete against Taeyong on who would be a favorite, but he ended up getting tired after a few interactions

Had his eyes set on the bean bag in the reading area right when he entered the room; he instantly bee-lined towards it to just sit and relax. Obviously, nothing goes his way because he is Kim Doyoung of NCT - Johnny, Haechan and some children came to bother him

Taeyong told the children that he is a bunny and they all suddenly started drawing bunnies for him and giving the bunny plushies lying around the room to him; some child definitely asked if he would dress up judy hopps for halloween, and he realized that this was taeyong’s plan all along

Had stepped and sat on a stray lego during his time helping and he nearly cursed in front of these kids, and Haechan told the teacher about it

He had so much fun during music time and showed off his singing, and he even led the children in singing some nursery rhymes; a lot of the kids said they liked his voice a lot - doyoung got flustered because kids are the most honest when giving feedback after all

Had to stop the kid from eating paper that yuta gave and fed the kid some actual food; he ended up spoon feeding this kid for a duration of time until the little one felt full

Taeyong was eating all the sweets and Doyoung had to stop him or the kids will end up with no cookies because of him

Bonus: one of the children loved his singing so much and wanted him to sing a lullaby for them during nap time. Doyoung didn’t want to disturb anyone else, so he would lay in the corner next to the little one, softly humming them to sleep - it worked! they drifted off into slumber and Doyoung was on the verge of the tears from how touched he was <3

!! Jaehyun .

A young prince that every princess/prince in the room had fallen for once they laid eyes on him

Every tiara/crown is put on his head, he definitely had to play along with some roleplays of being a prince; it’s okay, he acted for Dear.M he’s been prepared for this moment - but in reality, he broke character a few times

Jungwoo and the children LOVE poking his dimples and for some odd reason, the kids think his coconut head hair is very soft and would touch it also

Had a kid fallen asleep on his lap and he couldn’t move for like 2 hours. He lost all feeling in his legs for some time

The kids who had the fake makeup toys ended up putting makeup on him, he somehow looked cute despite how horrific the attempts were

Got too competitive during a game when playing outside, and literally had to be told to “lose points purposely” because the kids were losing hope each time he scored

Hung out with the chill kids watching spongebob in some part of the room, laughing along with the kids whenever something funny occurred because spongebob remains to be funny no matter what age

Bonus: Was mistaken as a rapper and a teenage boy. He played a little game of kids guessing his real age and real position in the group, and many of the kids were betrayed when he revealed the truth - honestly, one kid said that they would like to marry him in the future and Jaehyun could only laugh <3

!! Jungwoo .

Young prince 2.0 that everyone seemed to fall for also, but in comparison to Jaehyun - he is the cutesy prince

Did cute faces and stuff for the kids, the kids seeming to LOVE how his cheeks are so fluffy and would play with his hair also

Had tea parties with the children and he is clanking tea cups together with the princesses/princes with Jaehyun’s makeup-filled face

Nearly spat out his tea it’s actually water when he saw Jaehyun’s face and took selfies with him because it was “beautiful”

Did great impersonations of cartoon characters (especially spongebob) and animal impersonations; the children LOVED them and would always ask him to intimidate any of those things

Him and Haechan ended up becoming tickle monsters for a game and all the kids teamed up to fight back by tickling them back

Showed off his terrific, fluent english skills after Johnny showed off his to the kids; all the children were so wowed by his english and was voted the most fluent than the person who was born in america

Bonus: Was playing with a pencil and it accidentally flew across the room to hit a kid in the head with it. Nearly shits himself and bowed in all fours towards the child, begging for forgiveness like the child would have gotten a concussion by his accidental murder attempt - the little one forgave him though by giving him a piece of a cookie <3

!! Mark .

You think he would have some skills after taking care of Dreamies for most of his life, but honestly he is struggling to even talk to one kid without it being awkward

Stayed near Yuta, Johnny or Haechan to feel more comfortable; he asks the kids’ questions and then an awkward silence by skz would happen after he says “Oh really? That’s so cool!”

After Yuta told the kids that he was spiderman, he is laughing uneasily because how could he prove that - he tries playing along by “he’s lying!” and the kids go “You are trying to keep it a secret!”

Some kids threw things at Mark to test his reflexes and he caught every single one despite his panic, the kids are so amazed

Ends up attracting all the Spiderman fans, they even asked for his autograph and they told him about them being mean to their parents one day by accident, stealing a toy from another kid’s, etc.; honestly, mark just says “With great power comes great responsibility” because he has nothing else to say

Saw two kids fighting and did nothing to stop it, but only watch to say “o-oh my god” when one of them got hit so hard to end up in tears

Played basketball with Jaehyun with some of the kids outside and he pulled another “this one's for you czennies” but instead it's for the children at the daycare; did he make it? I think you and I know very well of the outcome

Bonus: During storytime, he was invested as the children. The reenactment of the story made his tummy hurt and you know that cute gasp he seems to always do whenever he is feeling dramatic? His gasp echoes among the children and he is clapping along like he is one of the children that 127 volunteered to help <3

!! Haechan .

Is the youngest in 127, middle child in DREAM, and oldest in his actual family; does he have some experience with children? Not really since his mom definitely babied him and Dreamies are a different breed of children

Had called his mom for advice on how to act with the kids at the ages of 4-5 and was told to be himself and be fun! Mama bear encouraged him to be their “Haechan”; ofc our Full Sun of NCT did just that and became a favorite by the children

Joined the 2 baddies 2 baddies 1 porsche cult, dancing along with the little ones while screaming out the godforsaken lyrics i love 2 baddies dont misunderstand

Told one of the kids he used to dance ballet and the ballet kids challenged him, and he ended up wearing a tutu when dancing with them

Shared the kimchi jjigae rap by Mark to the kids during lunchtime, Mark heard it across the room and definitely got up to commit violence against the number one fan of the kimchi stew rap; taeyong had to break them up tho

Forced Doyoung to act cute to the kids because if he doesn’t, the kids would be sad…Even mentioned TY track in front of Taeyong’s animal crackers and Taeyong passively aggressively laughed while aggressively patting Haechan on the back

Even played tag with some of the kids and got scolded by the teacher because it was a dangerous game for the kids, but it's okay the kids cheered him up when he became sulky

Bonus: He lost all energy when nap time happened, and he ended up falling asleep. He laid next to a little one, who seemed to enjoy his company and curled up beside him like a small bear cub; by the time Haechan woke up, small fingers were holding onto his fingers and he had to stay still until the little one woken up <3

[mishapocalyse]

Silent Skies

Chapter 01-“Roads Not Yet Traveled” Pairings: Soldier Boy (Ben Gilman) x Deaf! Original Character Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning, drug use, sexual themes, language, gore, blood, sexual assault, attempted r*ape, suicide, mentions of suicide, self harm, mentions of mental illness—that may be within this fanfiction may be triggering for some.

Do not repost, copy, paste this work or claim this as your own. Reblog instead!

Read at your own risk, enjoy.

Note: Some scenes may be out of canon, and character.

An AU where Soldier Boy gets a second chance to walk free. After his first time out of the box, William Butcher goes back on his word and the Boys put him back into the box.

Seven years later Lightening Bolt, a former member of Payback has him resurface to finish what Butcher couldn’t, however Soldier Boy had to learn how to handle himself in the new world a second time.

Lynyx Foster—was too kind and innocent for the everything’s happening around her. All she wanted was to be happy. Her world is initially turned upside down when she meets a man frozen in time with bad intentions written across his face.

She tried her best to communicate.

He believed she was mocking him.

Dust.

All he could taste, was dust in the back of his throat while he managed to drag himself from the rubble that Homelander had tossed him through. Thick, tangled clouds mixed with the smell of iron, which had come from the couple thousands of people that the American clad supe' had managed to incinerate alongside trying to kill him. Soldier Boy clung to the dagger he kept on his belt, his firearm running out of ammo earlier when he had been firing warnings that held no effect to Homelander.

This is fuckin' useless. He thought.

Homelander emerged amidst the blooming chaos as the rest of Soldier Boys fuckwads tore through their own troubles. He noticed Butcher a few feet away from him.

"This is unexpected aye'?" The Brit muttered, almost chuckling.

He ignored the snide comment, returning his gaze to Homelander, who had made his escape as quickly as he could. Soldier boy, turned slowly towards Butcher who had gathered the rest of the boys, all giving him their undivided attention.

They staged a coup.

Those fuckers.

Soldier Boy took a huge step back to find the blonde supe' at his neck, shooting a full blast of energy into his chest which he had tried to block. Mother's Milk and Kimiko, ambushed from the side, while Butcher tried taking him to the ground. With much error, they had succeeded in weighing the large supe', MM pressing the sleeper mask over Soldier's mouth.

"I'm not going back--into that fucking box!" He huffed out, trying to shake the others from him.

He felt himself slipping, eyes beginning to droop, feeling helpless and weak as he dropped like a brick to asphalt.

Soldier Boy did--in fact--go back into that box.

-------------- 7 Years Later--------------

Lynyx Foster had been sitting in the living room of a potential new home while she filled out the rest of the paperwork with her sisters. The two smiling over her, while she provided her signature; Aaron and Grace the payment.

The real estate agent smiled half-hazardously. "Are you sure that this is the place? You know who used to live here, right?"

Aaron laughed while Grace seemingly enough ignore the woman downright. Lynyx was left unbothered, entranced by the minimally furnished space.

"We've already put a huge chunk in for a down payment. Who gives a shit who owned this place. This is a long time gift to our sister, she deserves it." Aaron spouted, her anger rising while her skin grew hotter.

The agent apologized profusely to Aaron, while handing over the title and keys over to her. Plucking them from her fingertips, the woman scurried off, leaving Aaron to happily skip towards her youngest sister, bending down to her level.

'Here you go sis'. Happy Birthday.' Aaron signs.

Lynyx grinned as the keys were dropped into the palms of her hands. Flailing her arms out of excitement she returned the reply.

'I'm happy.'

It took three days to finish unpacking her things into the new house. Nestled deep in the woods, she had never been happier than what she was at this moment. Her sisters closer than ever, a new job given to her, issued by her best friend, Lightening Bolt. He had been in charge of the majority of departments that dealt with superabled beings that were injected with Temp V and Compound V. Maybe this job would be beneficial to her as she was trying to finish her degree at the local college. However, Lynyx knew that he’d placed her somewhere with the least amount of work, and more free time to do what she wanted. She also knew that her time as a student would be shortened, hopefully she could work something out.

Thinking about work.

She’d be late if she didn’t leave now.

Lightening Bolt stood close to Grace Mallory and the Boys as the group of them glared directly at Bolt.

Mallory slowly faced Bolt, a frustrated look plastered on her face.

“This Ms. Foster, this is what she’ll be doing-“. He interrupted her.

“Keeping our friend company. Dope right? I’m paying her a shit ton for a useless job. From the way I see it. You guys will just have to be on call in case something goes south. She will be fine, promise Mallory.” Bolt laughed. He wiped a fake tear from his cheek.

“She is the most harmless little thing. Don’t worry.” Yet, Mallory did not believe him for once second. The older woman huffed; while the security door slid open.

Lynyx shuffled through the doorway and into the larger room. The yellowing, concrete walls felt suffocating to her. Ceiling lights made the space more dull, almost a sickeningly dim hue, that yellow. A group of people, a few of them she recognized as her friend Bolt and her sisters. The two girls sharing the same look of disdain for her new line of work. She ran her hands down her dress that was perfect for the autumn weather, decorated with patterns of leaves and the perfect shade of orange and brown. Lynnie fixed a stray curl of hair, pushing it out of her face as she held her attention to the group.

‘Hello. I’m Lynnie. Nice to meet you all.’

Butcher coughed, hiding a laugh as he nudged Hughie. MM, Frenchie and Kimiko were baffled at the small woman before them.

“Is the little cunt deaf?” asks Butcher.

Lightening Bolt gave him the death stare.

“Rethink your fucking statement right now.” He said.

Butcher raised his hands in defeat.

“Aye’ sorry. Didn’t mean to offend. She’s just a bit too sweetsy to be running with Supes’.” Butcher retorts, rubbing his beard.

Bolt rolls his eyes and beckons Lynnie forward, smiling.

‘Let’s get you started?’ He signs to her.

She smiles, replying. ‘I’m excited.’

Lightening Bolt guided her towards the black Cadillac, opening the door for her. She raised a brow, just as confused as everyone else was. He placed a hand on her own, trying his best to comfort her.

“It is going to be fun, I promise.” He smirks; Lynnie frowns, looking away out the window.

The drive down the winding roads were peaceful, only if Lynnie didn’t feel like she was being held hostage by her best friend and his comrades. She fiddled with the hem of her skirt. Bolt broke the silence between them all.

“You’ll be watching a friend of ours. They’ve been a bit of a hassle lately, but I assure you the company will get them up and listening.” He began.

Lynnie snapped her head to send Bolt a nervous glance. Was he being serious? Was he selling her off? She bounced her leg nervously trying to regain herself when the car halted, the dust clearing. Lightening Bolt and his group stepped out of the vehicle, as Lynnie peeked up to see more people, men—in heavy armor and gear. Loaded to the teeth with AR-15’s and 47’s. She gnawed at her bottom lip; Bolt snapped his fingers, car door open, to get her attention. He held out his hand for her to grab onto as she shimmied out of the car seat, feet planting onto the gravel driveway.

The house in front of her was almost in shambles. She shook as she heaved a short gasp. Her hands wrapped anxiously around Bolt’s arm as she clung to him. He shot a “please don’t be afraid” glance to her. Lynnie did not accept that look at all. Her eyes found the others, all of them holding the same look as her.

Everyone was scared too.

She froze, almost making Lightening Bolt fall face first into the rocks. He swivels around, trying to figure out what was wrong.

‘Tell me what is going on—this is not what I agreed to. Is this safe for me?’ She signed, Bolt bit his tongue.

“Lynnie, look. I may have sort of lied to you. You were my last resort, really you were. But, I don’t have anyone else and you are perfect and smart, especially when it comes to people . Our friend is in dire need of recoupment—because he is way out of his time.” Bolt held tightly to Lynnie’s hands as hers gripped on his arm.

“Can you do this for me, please?” He pleads.

Lynnie gazed upon the house, then back to her best friend. Letting go, she crossed her arms over her chest. Letting out an exasperated sigh she shakes her head, as her arm extends.

Lead the way. It read.

All the thoughts, feelings, and confusion flew out the window when her eyes landed on the man sitting at the table. His head was laid down on his arms, slightly angled away, his eyes glued to the window. Tugging Bolt's themed sweatshirt sleeve, she again stopped in the dreary space meant to represent a living room. Lynnie motioned to everything around her.

'Is this where he lives?' She signs. Bolt nods.

'This is four walls and barely a roof.' Lynnie continued.

Bolt rubbed his face and groaned. He knew that this was exactly what would happen when she came in here.

"Lynnie, where do you propose we take him? Can't take him to the city, he'll be a danger to everyone--including himself. Can't take him to a motel because then we would have to put that on the expense tab--" Lynnie held her hand over Bolt's mouth to stop him from talking.

Frantically she signed out a response.

"No. Absolutely not." Bolt disagreed.

The look in her eyes when she looked at him was heartbreaking. For a man she hasn't even met yet, she sure wanted to make his life better. That was always how it went. Bolt knew the woman in front of him was the same little girl he grew up with. Always sweet, little miss. She cared for others--a little too much, and always would give the shirt of her back if it meant making their day brighter. Now, she was giving him those doe eyes, the ones he could not say no to.

He mumbled a few curses under his breath.

"Go on, get to know him before I change my mind. I'll talk to the others about the placement change." He said reluctantly.

'Thank you.' She signed, her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

Lynnie let go to slowly approach the man sitting at the broken table in what seemed like a half-hazardous kitchen. Again, his eyes glued to the window, staring out at the wooded area that surrounded the house. She took this moment to take in how much bigger he was compared to her. Telling from a distance, he could of been a foot or so taller than her, his large hands holding his shoulder, the definitions of his muscled form piquing her interest. He was much larger, and much, much stronger than her. Lynnie had to be careful of what she would say or do. He could be extremely unstable. Or worse, he could kill her with those hands of his. She wandered over to him, the closer she drew the more nervous she had gotten once more. Making her way around the table, she bends her knees, ensuring that she was at eye level with him.

His iris's were the color of sea glass, the rarest shade of green she had ever seen before. Whether or not the Compound V that ran through his veins was the culprit behind how beautiful his eyes were. Lynnie made an attempt to read him, there was a hint of annoyance in his eyes, and the ever so clenched jaw made it apparent that she was in his way. She smiled, waving to him, as she dusted the dirty floor to make room as she plopped down to sit.

"Who the fuck are you, princess?" He blurted out, raising his head up to sit straight in his chair, arms folded over that same muscled chest. Lynnie remained on the floor, with the same small smile.

'My name is Lynnie.' She began to motion her hands, slowly to make sure he could understand.

Alas, he didn't, sitting there with some offended expression plastered there. Bolt entered the room to intervene.

"Sparky, aren't you a delight to see." The man says, combing his fingers through his beard. Fuck, he needed to shave this shit, his hair needed a proper cut and he was in definite need of a hot shower; some hot food would be a nice addition too. Butcher, Bolt and the boys hadn't been the best company. The man placed his hand back into the crossed position they were before, a heavy sigh following after.

"Fuck you, Soldier Boy." Bolt started, Lynnie's eyes darted back to Soldier Boy's.

"If it were Herogasm, I would have taken you up on that offer. Though, I doubt you'd wake me up again for a quick fuck, gay boy." Soldier Boy joked, chuckling.

"I can still put you back in that fucking box, asshole. For the rest of your miserable, sad life. However, I have orders to give you, with the possibility of you walking free." Lightening Bolt gritted his teeth, the idea Soldier Boy being able to walk around in modern society as a free man was unnerving to him.

Lynnie continued to sit as the two bickered back and forth. She fidgeted once more with the hem of her skirt.

"Who's the girl, Sparky? Is she some cheap whore you hired or--" Soldier Boy did not get to finish his statement before he was falling back in his chair, his back colliding to the ground.

"Don't fucking talk about her like that, sick fuck." Lynnie got up to tug Bolt back, as she firmly shoved him back. Though he barely budged, she was able to quickly get through to him.

Soldier Boy laughed as he got up, brushing himself off. He picked up the broken chair, holding it in his left hand, eyes filled to the brim with a dangerous feel to them. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a heinous smile. He cracked his neck.

"You pack quite a punch nowadays, Sparky. I'll have fun teaching you who's in charge again." He made a quick quip, stepping forward and with one smooth motion, brought the chair up to potentially break even more over Bolt's head.

Lynnie shimmied herself between the two supers, both hands on either of their chests. Patting them repeatedly, Bolt as well as Soldier Boy stared down at her.

Soldier Boy huffs, tossing the chair to the side, Butcher and his men had entered through the back door to make sure everything was all right.

"Seems like princess here saved your ass. I wouldn't want the lil' lady to have to see a fight. You know...it's polite." Soldier Boy gave a toothy grin before tossing his attention to Lynnie. His head snapping down at her.

His eyes, were hungrily searching hers for any sort of weakness, but for Lynnie, she continued to give him a sweet, savory smile. She removed her hand from their chests, bringing both her arms back to sign to him. He ignored her and faced Bolt who still stood only a few feet away again.

"You're going to be put with my friend here so you can learn how to handle yourself in today's world. Seven years ago you may have gotten a nice little dip in the water, got your dick wet a bit. It is a lot crazier now, then what it was seven years ago, dickhead." Bolt stated leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Ah, so shagging me up with a babysitter. How thoughtful. Could not thank you enough--"

"Shut your mouth, prick. You are getting a second chance at life. I'd fucking take this as a reason to do as your told. Starting with listening to my friend here. She is going to be overseeing every single little thing you do, and you are going to listen to her. Okay? Is that easy for you to understand or would you like foe me to dumb it down for you some more?" Bolt had removed himself from his position on the wall to be only inches away from Soldier Boy's face, noses almost touching.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it." Soldier Boy began, his lips quivered.

"Good. I am so happy you understand, asshole." He then gestured to Lynnie who waited patiently.

"This is Lynyx Foster. She is going to make sure you are up to date on how to be a decent human being." Bolt then checked his watch for the time.

"Now that being said, come on, let's get you to where you'll be staying, dickhead." Bold said, eagerly trudging away from Soldier Boy and out the front door.

The Cadillac screeched to a halt at the end of the long winding driveway up the wooded hill, thick with trees and brush. Soldier Boy narrowed his eyes, not trusting anything that was happening. Lynnie had unbuckled her seatbelt, stepping out of the car, grabbing her bag as Bolt did the same. Soldier Boy followed after, curiously looking around. They were the only car at the time, but he could sense Butcher and his friends scattered in the woods watching them. Soldier Boy was not stupid, he knew that there would always be someone watching him. Soldier Boy went back to the two people in front of him. Bolt throwing signs towards the girl as she did the same in return. She threw her arms around Bolt in a tight hug, and he kissed her on the top of the head.

"Be safe, goofball. I'll be back at the end of the week." Bolt says as she nods.

The two watched as the Cadillac pulled away, Lynnie took the chance and made her way to Soldier Boy.

'Let's go.' she signed.

Soldier Boy just stood there, stunned. Lynnie soon rolled her eyes at him, a bit of a giggle escaping her throat as she grabbed his hand, guiding him up the long driveway. She let go once he went with her, the walk silent for a bit before he broke through the silence with a sigh.

'Okay?' She cocked her head and furrowed her brows as she signed her concern.

Soldier Boy gave the same look of confusion as he froze in his tracks. She gave a soft frustrated breath while she drew closer to the man frozen in place. She gazed up at him, while he looked down upon her. The two staring at each other for only a moment.

'Are you okay?' she signed again.

"Fuck me. Quit throwing your gang signs, woman. It was funny back at the safe house, but now it's getting on my fucking nerves." Soldier Boy spat.

Lynnie was taken aback. She shook her head, taking his hands in hers. She guided his hands to cup over her ears, then tow his own, then back to hers. She sucked in a shaky breath and opened her mouth to speak.

"I-- am-- deaf. I have hear-ing aids. I--can hear you. Hard--to--talk. A--S--L." Lynnie murmured, the patchy words that she spoke definitely got across pretty quickly.

Soldier Boy scoffed, a mixture of disappointment, confusion, even a bit of admiration flooded his emotions. He was absolutely flabbergasted at his situation right now. Lynnie took his hand once again and he walked alongside her in silence, reaching her front doorstep.

"Holy fuck. This is your place?" She turned to him and nodded, pulling out her house keys from her back to unlock the door.

Pushing the door open, she beckoned him inside, that little sweet smile never fading.

She sucked in another breath.

"Home."

[liliallowed]

dustaxe out of context

crimson: *forces their way through the barrier but their vessel is left behind* well shit. it's fine I'll get it later when I come back from getting the milk.

flowey: oh an unoccupied save point? it's free real estate!

dust: one time warping mother fucker leaves another just ARRIVES. is this a fucking joke.

crimson: *fucking dies*

dust: oh great. papyrus play Despacito.

🦋: bro at least pretend to be sad for me.

dust: oh great I'm hallucinating again.

crimson on the surface: okay where to find a dumbass teenager that'll jump down the mountain so sans can kill them kick floweys ass.

dust underground: why am I getting a bad feeling.

crimson: my ex still misses me *axe cuts off their head* no nevermind his aim got better.

Aliza: are... are you okay?

crimson: yea yeah it just happens to you when you get older.

crimson: okay at first I was gonna sacrifice you for getting to the surface but now I'm going to adopt you. you are my child now.

Aliza: what.

dust: what.

flowey: what.

[pb-dot]

Happy WBW! What are the coffee shops like in your world? Or what are the coffee shop equivalents? Are they bustling? Overpriced? Are they decrept or college-kid only territory? If you wanna get into it, feel free to add on your characters' interactions, feelings, or orders!

In the days before the Coal Wars, coffee was an exotic luxury in Imelia, as the coffee bean is not native to the region. That said, being in the imperial core at the height of the empire's power, coffee was a very achievable luxury. Coffee Pavillions became hotbeds of the soft power of traders of modest means and low-ranking nobles and officials that would, if the years of war had shaken out differently, no doubt form the backbone of the upper middle class.

The Coffee Pavilions became somewhat pricier affairs during the wars, as punitive taxes and punishing embargos from multiple fronts drove up the prices of coffee, as well as the exotic fruits that were traditionally put in tarts, cakes, and other treats in these pavilions. Some of these esteemed establishments still exist but in a lesser capacity, serving coffee and candied fruits, usually locally grown ones.

This isn't to say coffee isn't served in The City, as long as there is at least one tired bureaucrat left in the world, there will be served coffee or some equivalent. Like most other food and drink, though, most of it isn't sold from a shop at all, but rather from some sort of cart. A truly impenetrable real estate market has made finding a place to serve whatever you're cooking just about impossible. On the bright side, with no government to enforce health and food safety laws, there isn't really much stopping you from taking your business on the road. The consequence of this is, of course, that food poisoning is a real threat, but like most challenges of life in The City, it's just one of those things you gotta plan around.

As for who drinks coffee and what they think about the drink:

Jake: Drinks some coffee, but he generally avoids it as drinking too much makes him anxious. Well, more anxious.

13: Doesn't drink as he doesn't have a stomach, would probably be a terror of biblical proportions if he did drink coffee though.

One: Same as 13, except she has nothing but disdain for coffee, as she considers it a sign of weakness.

Delilah: Delilah drinks coffee, especially after a bout of late shifts. She likes her coffee with sugar, perhaps even milk if she's lucky enough to find a cart that stocks fresh dairy.

Mina: Mina drinks a lot of coffee. She drinks it black and is oddly intense about it. The drink, for whatever reason, seems to have a calming effect on her.

[writingsofwesteros]

Saw the request for "A Debt to Pay" and I'm shocked, but hope this is good enough lol

👑👑👑

Aelyra and Daenerys sneak around together more often, trying to hide their relationship from their husbands. Dany is estatic to have her sister back and to have a free pass at her body. The nights they spend together always end with Aelyra feeling guilty and trying to run away quickly after. Dany finds a way to make her stay by telling her to give her one more hug... one more kiss... one more taste of her delicious juices... https://es.sex.com/pin/66328782-stunning-slutty-sisters/ • https://es.sex.com/pin/65280987-sisters-need-sisters-handy-to-get-off-whenever-brothers/ • https://es.sex.com/pin/66632690-cute-little-blonde-getting-fingered/ • https://es.sex.com/pin/66029374-its-so-hot-how-my-sisters-have-learnt-to-clean-themselves/ • https://es.sex.com/pin/53675273-double-sided-dildo/

Viserys and Drogo suspect something is going on, but one can't prove it and the other doesn't care. Viserys doesn't have proof until he finds the double headed dildo his wife was hiding. He's furious and immediately hatches a plan to catch them in the act. He pretends to leave one night, but hides and waits for Daenerys to enter Aelyra's tent, not having to wait long. Dany had been watching like a predator, knowing that despite her sister's reservations on their relationship, Aelyra would never turn her down or away. She quickly enters and strips her Dothraki garb before grabbing the dildo Viserys had found and slotting it into the strap harness.

She slowly lets the thick length stretch her as she takes one side into her own self then climbs into bed next to her sleeping twin. Dany flips her sister's thin skirt up and quickly enters her, sucking on her sensitive neck as she cups Aelyra's milk filled tits. She works it in and out of her sister's tight hole, making her moan softly in her sleep before she gasps loudly upon waking. https://es.sex.com/pin/59174007-hot-kinky-lesbians-4/ Aelyra should be used to it by now as many times as Dany has done this, but it still startles her to wake filled with her sister's fake cock filling her so soon after Viserys's had been there.

Viserys watches in anger as Aelyra's eyes fill with tears and she whimpers, avoiding looking back at Daenerys in shame as her younger twin sister pounds the dildo into them both so frantically. Dany moans loudly into Aelyra's ears as she rips her sister's top, freeing her beautiful tits to give her better access as she pinches Aelyra's nipples. Aelyra cries out loudly and bucks her hips back into Dany as she whines for her to fuck her quickly before anyone finds them like this. Daenerys just laughs and pulls out of her twin before turning her on her back, spreading her widely and slamming back into her https://es.sex.com/pin/58497298-lesbian-strap-on-dildo-brunette-getting-fucked/

As her hips start pumping into Aelyra at a rough pace, Viserys feels his fury rise. How dare his wife allow her sweet pussy to be sullied not only by her evil little twin, but with a fake cock as well. The only cock shaped thing allowed inside her is his own very real one. He knows Dany is probably getting a kick out of humiliating him this way, though it has to be in secret. Viserys can't contain himself any longer when Dany says that Aelyra should've been hers to breed, massaging the swollen stomach that hold's Viserys's son inside. Just imagining someone else's child inside his dear sister wife makes him want to tear someone open.

He stomps quickly out of the shadows, watching as Aelyra's eyes widen seeing him stalk up behind Dany. She tries to close her legs and cover her breasts, as if to hide the evidence from him as Dany's unaware self just continues thrusting faster. Viserys grabs Dany by the hair, making her still, before ripping her off of Aelyra. Aelyra whimpers a bit from the slight pain and loss of pleasure, but Viserys's angry glare makes her quiet fast. Dany sits to the side, panting as a bit of fear shoots through her seeing their brother like this. Viserys had changed a lot in a little time, almost like Aelyra's affections and the impending birth of their son put him in a better place and mentality. But now they'd made him turn into the same person he'd been years ago... they'd woken the dragon... 👑💀

HOT HOT HOT! I have no words, Dark!Danny is so delicious and her taking Aelyra as she sleeps!