#please no one feel obligated to read this

[contentloadingandstuff]

Nilou x Veteran!Warrior!Male!Reader

A/N: Here's something light and hopefully fun to read. Enjoy! CW: None.

When Nilou’s fans come up to her for autographs, they can’t help but cast worried glances at the man next to her. Despite officially being only a bodyguard, the warm smiles and kind looks you exchange with each other have made your love obvious to the people of Sumeru. Nobody mentions it in her, let alone your presence though - they know you’re not someone to be messed with. 

Nobody really knows where you fought, but your more-than-professional demeanor, your grizzled eyes, speaking of experience, make it more than obvious that you’ve seen your share. Your handling of weapons makes you a commanding presence - you hardly ever have to speak to make sure Nilou has as much space as she needs to feel comfortable. 

For your adorable lover, however, your presence is quite the opposite - you’re a guarantee of comfort and safety, and such a cute one at that! She finds it positively heartwarming how you compare to her. You’re a big, strong and scary guy while she’s a tiny and innocent girl. 

Nilou: Hey sweetie, can you… pick me up, please? Y/N: Hm? Oh, of course.  Nilou: W-whoah! Hehe~ It’s like in those fairytales, isn’t it?

You’re her knight in shining armor, and she’s your princess in need of keeping safe and sound. It always gets her heart racing when you remind her just how fragile and gentle she is - as a flower, needing strong hands to protect her from the cold winds. 

Speaking of digits, she really enjoys holding hands with you. Your hands, just like your whole person, are the precise opposites of her. They are big, rough, full of little scratches, scars and other wear-and-tear from your days of campaigns and fighting. They were and still are capable of feats of great strength and violence - she saw how tightly you grip the sword, just as she saw your enemies staggering under your blows. And yet, despite that, you are as gentle with her as can be when you stroke her hair or touch her cheek. 

With your body being as it is, you make for a very safe shelter for her. Nilou would like nothing else than to curl up in your strong, masculine arms, safely away from the threats and dangers of the world. Your body is also very good at heating her up on cold days with how big it is. A perfect pillow, a perfect ladder, a perfect vehicle, a perfect jar opener - she enjoys it thoroughly, and isn’t afraid to show her appreciation of you. 

Whenever you’re shirtless, expect Nilou to always show respect to your scars. They are marks of a warrior, a courageous man who endured wounds and stood tall through adversity. She’ll kiss them gently, and if you allow her, trace her fingers along them with featherlight touches. Nilou would love to learn their stories, but will understand when you don’t want to share them. She knows that these particular ones might have scarred more than your body. 

Nilou enjoys taking care of her big, strong man. She will cook for you whenever there’s a chance, even if you insist otherwise. 

Nilou: Here you go honey! Enjoy~ Y/N: This is wonderful… But you didn’t have to go all this way, you know? I have a pair of hands… Nilou: Hey, don’t mention it. It’s my obligation and my pleasure as your woman to keep you just as healthy and happy as you keep me, right? I think it's just fair, sweetie.

Nilou is very aware that her anxiety regarding leaving Sumeru City is a result of her sheltered life. She’s never really left it - the wilderness is teeming with bandits, Fatui and monsters who would all gladly have a piece of her if the opportunity came. She might have a Vision, but Nilou’s no warrior - she never practiced using it for combat, never had the need to fight, nor is she a very strong girl. With you by her side, however, she feels safe. She knows you’ll keep her way out of danger - she saw you fight, so trust isn’t the sole thing backing up her belief in your capabilities. Nilou truly enjoys walks out in the forest without a care in the world as well as picnics with you. Still, she insists on getting back before it gets dark, and if evening catches you by surprise, you’ll find her gripping your hand and sticking very close to you. 

Kindness speaks through your eyes, but they also betray years of experience and proficiency at fighting. This is the exact reason that Nilou’s manager decided that you’d make a perfect bodyguard for Nilou. Sure, Sumeru wasn’t really known for violent incidents, but you never know. The simple fact that you happen to be her husband is an added benefit as well. Nilou is more motivated, feels safer and is generally happier when you’re nearby. Besides, she only agrees to leave for Port Ormos if you accompany her, which by itself is a big step up from before when she was confined to Sumeru City. Still, other locations are for the future only for the time being.

Y/N: I’m sorry miss, but this is a staff only area. Woman: I am allowed to pass. Nilou: Is everything alright?  Y/N: Yes, Nilou. Turns back May I see proof of this then? Woman: I don’t need to show a grunt like you anything. Do you know who I am? Y/N: No and, frankly, I do not care. Please step back. Woman: I have my methods for types like you! Y/N: leans in And I have my methods of making you into a headstone or a vegetable. You may take your pick.

Due to the nature of your past job, some may see a killer in you, but Nilou doesn’t share their outlook. She might be young, optimistic and innocent by nature, but it doesn’t mean she’s oblivious to what war is. Your stories, as dark and upsetting as they are, only furthered her disdain towards conflict, but not towards you. 

Nilou knows that you cannot expect someone to act humane in an inhuman situation. She knows that the people and creatures you had killed were not killed for your own amusement, but because it was a simple choice between you and them. She does not hate you - she never will. You are just like the thousands of other young men, sent to the frontlines and made to kill monsters or their fellow man without much choice in the matter. 

She does appreciate that the war made you the man of today - a rugged, attractive beast of a fearless man - but she won't ever as much as think of suggesting that the war had a positive effect on you. Saying this wouldn't only be insensitive, but also, sadly, untrue. 

Your experiences left a permanent mark on you. They scarred both your body and your mind. She can see it in your eyes. You haven't fully left the battlefield, left the army, and it is plain to see. You have a set daily schedule, for example. You also keep a sword by your bedside and a dagger under your pillow. “Just in case” you promise, but she knows better than that. 

You have dreams about your past that might come and go, as you reassure her, but seeing you in distress breaks her heart. Nilou was always waking you up whenever a nightmare haunted you, calmly reassuring you that it's okay, that it's all a dream. She grounds you with gentle touches and soft words, expertly bringing you back to reality. At home, you dislike talking about the war, just as you dislike noise, especially metallic in nature. Nilou understands that, and makes sure to avoid rattling kitchen equipment and the like when she's preparing you food, for example. 

Speaking of cooking, and taking care of you in general, it doesn’t bother her at all, partly because of what you experienced. In the last, you have been forced out of your home and into a life of violence and approved murder where every day could be your last. But now you're home - with her. She is your wife, your home, your safe refuge. It's only natural for her to find fulfillment and pleasure in creating a loving retreat for you to rest your weary soul in. 

She is thrilled to help you and care for you, for just one, simple reason. She loves you. 

Thanks for reading!

[caffedrine]

Kagari Amagase – The Beast’s Love is Unstoppable – Event Summary

This one gets pretty steamy, so MDNI. Seriously, If you have a parent/guardian/friend/partner/child who will be upset with me if you read steamy thirst-trap stories, don't read this.

This is mostly a summary for me - I make no promises on the accuracy of what’s happening. I’m not nearly fluent enough to get half the jokes/innuendo much less accurate plot points.

Kagari was coming to Rhodolite today, so a few hours before their appointed meetup time, Emma decided to go for a walk to calm her excited nerves.

Suddenly, she was dragged into a back alley, only to find Kagari right in front of her, pressing her against the wall. Their long-awaited reunion was unexpectedly moved up, and although she was happy to see him, Emma was more surprised. She notes that Kagari is early, and he explains that he wanted to see her face as soon as possible.

Yup, this is Kagari.

Emma admits that she has been on edge too, as she was anticipating seeing him again as well.

Kagari caresses her cheek with his hand, and warmth spreads to her heart. Emma wants to leisurely enjoy their reunion, but her first priority is getting Kagari into her home.  

Suddenly Kagari’s face is close enough to hers that she can feel his breath on her face. He is excited to spend time with her and tells her to hold onto his shoulders tightly.

Alarm bells start ringing in Emma’s head as Kagari begins to position himself, his green eyes as hot and heavy as a thick syrup. Fighting against a spoiled general like Kagari is tantamount to fighting a losing battle, but Emma tries to prevail. She promises to hug and kiss him a lot – once they reach her home.

Kagari disagrees, what little patience he has ever possessed is gone, and they should start right now, right here.

Kagari entwines their legs, pressing fully against Emma, kissing her forehead, cheek, and neck. Emma squirms to escape, but if anything, Kagari becomes more excited. Between kisses, he mutters that her heartbeat is intoxicating, and her body is so hot. She’s so aware of him, and it’s so cute.

Emma complains when she feels Kagari’s teeth, but he assures her that he’ll be good and not leave any marks. Emma tells him that someone who does things like this outside is not a good person.

As expected, Kagari doesn’t care if they’re outside or not. While trying to keep her mind from clouding over at the intense feeling of Kagari’s body, Emma searches for the words that would set her free.

Eventually, she resorts to telling Kagari that she wants to take care of him without anyone bothering her, and to please let her go long enough for them to enter her home.

Practically carrying her, Kagari rushes towards Emma’s home at an alarming speed. Upon entering, Kagari murmurs that he loves her, without her all he can do is kill people. Unfortunately, Emma doesn’t think that he’s lying.

For several hours after they arrive at Emma’s home, all they did was sit on the bed with Emma in Kagari’s lap while she strokes his red hair. He buries his face in the nape of her neck like a pet, luxuriating in the feeling.

As Emma expected, time spent away from each other turns Kagari into a spoiled general.  

She asks Kagari if he’s growing stiff or uncomfortable from having her in his lap all this time. Kagari assures her that he’s fine, he’s been looking forward to doing just this with her all this time. Her body temperature, her heartbeat, weight, smell, the feel of her skin, it’s all Emma. This is proof that Emma is finally by his side.

Kagari looks happy.

But now that Kagari is in her home, Emma has an obligation to be a host and entertain him. Also, if possible, to prepare dinner for him. But, when she moves to leave his lap, Kagari hold her tighter, refusing to let her go.

With is face still half-buried in her chest, Kagari looks up at her with a depressed expression. He still wants her to hold him and begs her not to leave him alone.

Emma assures him that she just wants to bring him tea and dorayaki.

Kagari does like tea and dorayaki, but more than that, he wants to be taken care of by his princess. Emma’s pet cat is purring, and she wants to leave him? It will be troublesome for her if the cat takes offense to that.

Yeah, Emma has been down that road before.

Once, and only once, Emma had been focused on reading and hadn’t paid enough attention to Kagari. It is still fresh in her memory how Kagari had reacted, and how she hadn’t been able to leave his bed for a full day afterwards.

Emma had thought that Kagari would spring for the dorayaki, but with his eyes gazing pleadingly up at her, begging her to pamper him, his lips parting as he rained kisses on her.

Fine, Emma can stay just a little bit longer.

Emma wonders if she will ever be able to win against Kagari’s smile.

Suddenly, one of the hands around her waist reaches up to stroke her head, combing through her hair. Emma is confused, and Kagari explains that while he was away, she must have felt lonely too. So, he will pamper her as well.

Kagari’s hand lowers and he strokes Emma’s back slowly, comfortingly.

It’s weird, being treated like she is a child. But, maybe because it’s Kagari, Emma is also feeling soothed. She had been pretending to be just fine, but in the end, she had been feeling lonely. With this realization, Emma buries her face in Kagari’s neck, embarrassed.

Kagari murmurs that she is becoming just as spoiled as he is. Emma disagrees, and Kagari wonders if she’s also becoming just as insensitive as he is. Emma squirms, the feeling of Kagari’s hands has changed.

Or, more specifically, he has removed his gloves and his bare hands have slid up her thighs, under her skirt. The moment she feels his fingers at the heat clothed by her underwear, alarm bells go off in Emma’s head. Again.

(Calling it now, his route is going to be a full on smut route)

Emma warns Kagari that the way things are going, they’re not going to be able to stop soon, and Kagari cheekily agrees.

Emma decides to throw away her reservations and adherence to proper host behavior, and just do what she wants, just like Kagari. She begs Kagari not to hate her even if she becomes a hopeless, selfish, spoiled brat for him. Kagari approves.

Emma is pushed down onto the bed, Kagari’s eyes are so sweet that they bind her beneath him. Kagari tells Emma that as long as he lives, he wont let her go. Not even if he dies will he ever stop loving her. Maybe she has become disillusioned with him time and time again, but Kagari can tell that Emma is always falling in love with him.

[7-wonders]

Literally, if Calliope held my face and gave the affection that’s described in World We Dream About, I would fucking die. All I can think about is how the reader could only wonder how Morpheus would ever separate himself from someone as tender, gentle, and utterly radiant as her-

(Read more of my Calliope/Morpheus/Reader stuff here!)

"Can I ask you something?"

You're sitting in the gardens of the palace of the Dreaming with the Lord of Dreams himself, who slowly looks up at you over the top of his book (some report on a nightmare doing who knows what) like you're a nuisance. You know that's not the case though, since he's the one that sought you out and invited you to join him.

After your...memorable first meeting with Morpheus, followed by a tearful goodbye with the woman goddess who had been your roommate for the past few months, you had never been expecting to see either again. They were important beings of myth and legend, after all—you were just a regular human. Practically nothing compared to them! That's why it was so surprising when you went to sleep barely a week later and found yourself face-to-face with the Sandman once more.

"I owe you a boon, whether you believe yourself worthy or not," he said. "And I imagine that you have many questions relating to the information you received that fateful night. Therefore, you may ask me your questions, and I shall do my best to answer them."

He was right, of course. You did have questions. So many of them that it almost made your head spin when you tried to think of the first one that you wanted to ask. But ask you did, and he dutifully answered each and every one of them.

It was definitely appreciated, and you felt that the conversation gave you a lot of answers and closure to this chapter of your life. In your mind, it was the end of a chapter. Calliope was gone, off to Greece and Mount Olympus and her sisters with no sign that you would ever see her again. Morpheus had deigned to meet with you once more, and now that his perceived obligation was fulfilled, you expected that to be the end of any sort of magic in your life.

But then you saw him again.

And again.

And again.

Now, you see him at least once a week. Each time, he comes to you in your dreams, and each time, he acts as though he's simply being charitable by offering Calliope's human friend some company. You know that's not the case, though. No, Morpheus will never admit it, but you think he's lonely. And now that you both have a shared person, that gives him a connection with someone...even if that someone is the mortal that his ex-wife found herself accidentally belonging to in what you can say in retrospect was a true comedy of errors.

"You just did," he points out cheekily.

You remain unamused and roll your eyes. "C'mon, you know what I mean."

He nods. "I do. Continue."

"Please don't answer if it makes you uncomfortable, but I'm curious. Why...why did you and Calliope break up?" How did you manage to so severely fumble the bag? is what you really want to ask. "I mean, she's Calliope."

What you mean by, "she's Calliope," is, of course, that she's Calliope. Beautiful and kind, wise and strong, charming and witty, and a whole dictionary's worth of other characteristics that can only hope to capture who she is. You had never met a person like her before, and you doubt you'll ever meet somebody like her again.

Most mortals wouldn't dare to speak to an Endless like you just did. Unfortunately, prior experience has made you bold, and you know now that Morpheus is begrudgingly fond of you and therefore won't smite you if you overstep. Somewhere along the way, you stopped feeling so wary of the Dreamlord. Now, you like to think that your relationship is something close to a sort of friendship.

(If you're being honest with yourself, lately your feelings for Morpheus are complicated, as are your feelings for Calliope. That's a conversation for another day, and it definitely does not factor into your current conversation, thank you very much.)

A small, small smile plays on his lips, Morpheus understanding exactly what you mean. "Yes, she is. We were both much younger in the days of our marriage, if one as young as yourself can believe such a thing."

You appreciate that he's trying to find a bit of humor in what is assuredly a heavy moment, so you smile encouragingly at him.

"Mistakes were made by both of us throughout the course of our relationship, myself more. Ultimately, it was..." Morpheus pauses, and when he speaks again, it's much quieter. "In the end, the loss of our son proved too much for us to overcome together."

Well, now you feel bad. Calliope had only talked to you about Orpheus a handful of times, but with what little information you have, you know just how loved he was by his parents, and just how devastated they still remain by what happened. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

He shakes his head. "When last we parted, Calliope suggested to me that it would be wise for us to talk about Or—our son together. That remembering him might help to be able to properly grieve." Morpheus says that last word like it's foreign to him. It probably is, actually. "I am starting to find that she is right."

"She's right a lot. It's kind of annoying," you commiserate.

This helps to break the heaviness that talking about death (not Death) and loss brings, and Morpheus lets out a breath in his version of a laugh. "She does tend to be right fairly often."

Now that your question is answered and you know that you didn't just ruin his day, you gesture towards his book. "Okay, I won't bother you anymore, promise."

"You are not nearly as bothersome as you believe yourself to be." He gets a look in his starry eyes when he says this, one that conveys there is much more being left unsaid within this single sentence.

His confession makes your chest feel warm, and you try not to act as pleased as you are. "I'll endeavor not to change that, then."

[ghoul-slime]

Mushy May Day 16 - Cooking A Special Recipe (Aether/Dew)

Whoops, this is late as hell, but here it is anyway! Thank you again @forlorn-crows for organizing Mushy May! And @ghuleh-recs for the cute dividers <3

Day 16: Cooking A Special Recipe - Aether/Dew, no real warnings here, just some briefly suggested sexual content and happy tears. 2442 words.

Aether wakes up alone, the warm, purring fire ghoul that normally occupied the other side of his bed nowhere to be found. Usually, Dew preferred to sleep in, burrowing himself beneath the blankets and into Aether’s arms for as long as possible - especially now, having just returned from a long, grueling world tour only a few weeks ago. 

He showers and pops into the kitchen, somewhat surprised to find it empty. Usually the rest of the pack congregated there to eat breakfast and get ready for the day. He shoots Dew a text to see where he might have gone off to so early in the day, but despite his message being marked as “read” after only a few moments, Dew never responds.

Aether begins to suspect something is up, though as far as he remembers today wasn’t any sort of special occasion, it wasn’t anybody’s summoning day or any kind of special clergy ceremony day either. His suspicions were only confirmed when Phantom had pulled him away to the practice room later that morning, telling Aether that he really needed help perfecting one of his solos and that no, it really could not wait until tomorrow.

And no, he definitely did not know where Dewdrop might be this morning…

As a matter of fact, now that Aether thinks about it, Dew had been being a little secretive about something for the better part of a week now, and that whatever it was, it probably also involved Mountain.

Phantom, for as hard as he was trying, was not very good at acting casual at all, shifty eyes and stuttered words betraying his nerves as he kept asking Aether to run him through the song over and over. Aether was happy to play along, but after nearly two hours his stomach was starting to rumble, and he let the younger quintessence ghoul know he needed a break from their lessons for the day.

But just as Aether starts to make his way down the hall towards the kitchen for a snack, Phantom grabs his arm in a wide-eyed panic.

“Aether, please? Just show me one more time?” he begs. When Aether hesitates to oblige he switches gears. “Oh! Aether, my guitar is out of tune! Actually, maybe we should just restring the whole thing! That should take a while - maybe you can help me with that!!” He tries his best to yank Aether by the arm back towards the practice room.

Swiss appears around the corner just at the right time.

“Hey little bug, mind if I borrow the big guy here for a while?” he ruffles Phantom’s hair before slinging his arm around Aether’s shoulder and steering him back towards the dorms. Away from Phantom - and away from the kitchen, Aether notices with a sigh.

Swiss pulls Aether into his room and shuts the door with a click behind him. There, he’s greeted by the sight of Rain sitting cross-legged on Swiss’ bed in a pair of the multi-ghoul’s boxers and an oversized shirt. He smiles sweetly and gives Aether a shy little wave.

But just as he’s about to politely excuse himself to find a snack to calm his rumbling stomach, Swiss hands him a banana, seemingly pulled out of thin air.

“Thought you might be hungry after being held captive by Phantom all afternoon,” he says with a grin. “And thought it might be useful as a bribe for you to do us a little favor,” he adds.

“Uh, sure,” Aether concedes, already peeling open his prize and taking a bite. “What is it?”

“Well see, our little tadpole here woke up with a bit of a sore neck after his nap this afternoon. He didn’t want me to say anything, but I thought you might be able to give him a little bit of a quintessence zap to help him feel better. Loosen him up for some of the activities the two of us have planned for later,” Swiss answers. “Isn’t that right, Rainy?”

Rain just answers with a shy little smile and a shrug, perfectly punctuated with the slightest little wince and a delicately pained hiss at the movement of his supposedly sore neck.

Aether sighs, shoves the remainder of the banana into his mouth, tosses the peel into the trash, and motions for Rain to make room for him on the bed.

“You’re a pal, Aeth,” Swiss says with a shark-like grin, and claps Aether on the shoulder.

Aether’s stomach rumbles loudly in response.

Forty-five minutes later and Aether excuses himself, leaving behind a very sleepy and blissed out water ghoul dozing on Swiss’ bed. He hears the lock click behind him as soon as he shuts the door.  

Finally, Aether resumes his search for Dew, only for Cumulus’ door to swing open suddenly the moment he passes in front of it. Aether jumps, startled out of his thoughts.

“Oh, Aether! Just the guy I wanted to see,” Cumulus coos at him. “Didn’t scare you, did I love?” she asks, with a curious little head tilt.

Aether shakes his head no and asks what it is he can help her with, coaxing a smile across his face. Normally he loves helping his pack with whatever they might need, but for whatever reason, today it feels like he’s the most in-demand ghoul in the entire abbey. And he still hasn’t managed to have lunch or figure out where Dew snuck off to.

Hours later and Aether flops down on his bed with a sigh. After Cumulus had wrangled him to help her and Aurora build a new set of shelves for their ever-expanding record collection, Papa had called for him and said he’d needed help with some paperwork. Taxes, he’d explained, but really Aether had spent over an hour helping Papa rummage through a stack of old boxes looking for some sort of paperwork while Sister watched from her desk with a disapproving frown.

Eventually Papa dismissed him. They never did find whatever mystery paper he was looking for.

Just as he thought he was home free for the day, Cirrus and Sunny had swooped in and dragged him out to the garden to watch the sunset with them. They sat on either side of him, clinging to his arms and chatting as the sun slowly sank below the horizon, bathing the sky in beautiful hues of pink and gold. Aether had zoned out just a bit, mind wandering off as he wondered why Dew wasn’t out there with them, watching it too.

Now that he was finally back in his room, he’d all but given up on finding the little fire ghoul. It was nearly dinnertime anyway, he’d see him at the table when the whole pack sat down to eat.

He texts Mountain, “Hey Mount, I’m starving, what’s for dinner tonight?” and after a second he adds, “By the way, have you seen Dew running around anywhere today?”

Mountain responds immediately. “Sorry, didn’t have time to cook. Everyone’s on their own tonight.” He ignores the question about Dew altogether.

Aether raises an eyebrow at Mountain’s uncharacteristically terse response. He pulls up Dew’s contact and sends another message. “Dew, you hungry? Looks like we’re fending for ourselves tonight, lol.” He stares at the screen holding his breath, waiting for Dew to answer. After a few minutes his message gets marked as read, but after a few minutes more he still gets no answer.

Aether frowns at his phone. Between Mountain’s short response and Dew seemingly ignoring him, he’s starting to feel a little hurt. With another sigh he drags himself up and makes his way out of his room, heading towards the kitchen to try and forage for something quick to satisfy his empty stomach for the night.

But as soon as he turns down the hall, he smells something delicious. He can hear movement in the kitchen too, the clanging of pots and pans, the sound of glassware being moved around, someone turning the sink on and then back off. The closer he gets the stronger and more delicious the aroma grows, something warm and savory and familiar, though he can’t put his finger on what it is just yet.

Aether opens the door to the kitchen to find the missing ghoul in question standing in front of the stove with his hands on his slender hips. He turns around with a smile on his face.

“There you are,” Dew grins, bright and beautiful. “Was wondering how long before you broke free and found your way here.” Dew laughs. His hair is tied up in a little bun high on his head, thin golden wisps falling out and framing his face. Aether can see his black band tee spotted here and there with white powder, flour, he thinks. Dew wipes his hands, freshly washed and still dripping, onto his jeans. 

“I gotta hand it to them, Papa and the rest of the pack did a pretty damn good job at keeping you away from the kitchen all day,” Dew chuckles, looking at Aether with those bright, golden eyes, sparkling with mirth. “You must be starving by now though, this took way longer than I expected it would, sorry Aeth.” Dew strides up to him and lays a hand on his belly in apology, standing up on his tiptoes and looking up expectantly at Aether for a kiss.

Aether leans down to peck the little ghoul on the lips before taking in the spread before him. The dinner table is set for two and completely full of beautifully plated food. It takes Aether a moment before it starts to dawn on him. He looks back at Dew with wide eyes.

“Dew, did you make all this? Is this all from…?” he trails off, having a hard time believing the sight before him.

Dew grins again, pressing himself against Aether’s side. “Our favorite restaurant? Yep, Mountain helped me recreate all the recipes the best we could. Not sure how accurate it all turned out, but it tastes pretty damn good if I do say so myself.” Dew stands proud as Aether takes it all in.

The table is absolutely packed with familiar dishes. Barbecued lamb chops and skewered meats with herbs sitting atop a mountain of aromatic rice pilaf, glistening with butter. There’s a plate full of absolutely gigantic stuffed cabbage rolls, swimming in tomato sauce with a heaping spoonful of sour cream piled into the center. A basket stacked full of freshly baked bread and a ramekin of what Aether knows right away is the same exact delicious dill butter that Aether had eaten so many times in the past. There are huge salads full of fresh, beautiful vegetables and chunks of goat cheese. Bowls of roasted eggplant, vinegared beets, and potato salad with hard boiled eggs and bright green peas. 

Dew had lovingly recreated all of Aether’s favorite things from their favorite restaurant. It was their date night spot - a place they absolutely had to stop at every time they were out on the road on tour and passing through town. A place he’d enjoyed with Dew many times over years. 

Up until this past year, at least…

“Just didn’t feel right going there without you this year, Aeth,” Dew looks up at him, a little sad. “It’s not the same. Doesn’t taste as good when you’re not there.”

Aether stands there in stunned silence when the oven dings behind him. Dew scrambles for the oven mitts and calls over his shoulder as he pulls out something bubbling and shuts the door with a bump of his hip, “Sit down and start helping yourself. Everything’s ready now.”

Dew sets down one more plate in front of him - a huge, toasted gondola of soft baked bread filled in the center with bubbling cheese and a perfectly cooked poached egg with a golden, runny yolk. He mixes the egg and cheese together methodically with a serious look on his face, before cutting a thick slice and setting it, gooey, stretchy cheese and all, into the center of Aether’s plate.

“Eat!” Dew insists, and Aether almost doesn’t even know where to start. He goes for a lamb chop and sets it down on his plate. 

“Oh, and I thought - oh,” Dew goes to say something again but he’s cut off by a choked sound.

Aether can’t help it, he lets out a strangled sob, hands coming up to cover his face, unable to hold it all back as fat tears start rolling down his cheeks.

Dew looks on in stunned silence, horrified as Aether cries into his lamb chops.

“Sorry, Dew,” Aether hiccups out, struggling to apologize between shuddered breaths as he desperately tries to calm himself down. “I just… I can’t believe you did all of this for me.” He wipes the tears from his face with one of the fancy cloth napkins Dew had set out for him.

“Thank you… I just. Thank you so much,” he looks up at the fire ghoul with a devastated look on his face. And then Dew is swooping in, cradling Aether’s head to his chest while he sniffles into the fabric of his shirt.

Dew just shakes his head gently, petting Aether’s hair, waiting patiently for his breathing to even out. “Anything for you, Aeth.” He kisses the quintessence ghoul sweetly between the horns. “Seriously, I’d do anything for you,” he says quietly.

Aether squeezes him around the middle and pulls himself away, wiping the last of the tears from his face. For a moment, they just look at each other fondly.

“Oh!” Dew exclaims, bounding over to the refrigerator and rummaging around inside. He turns around, holding up two glass bottles of something with a bright, almost neon green liquid inside with a triumphant grin plastered across his face. 

“Holy shit, no way! You even got the tarragon soda?!” Aether exclaims, wiping away one last rogue tear threatening to fall. Dew unscrews the cap of one bottle and hands it to Aether, beaming.

“Yep! Swiss and I convinced the owners to sell us a couple of bottles to take home. Snuck them through customs and everything,” Dew announces proudly, crossing his hands in front of his chest.

Aether manages to make it through the rest of dinner without crying.

Later, they sit pressed together on the couch with a hot cup of cardamom tea, passing a slice of the honey cake Dew made for dessert back and forth while the rest of the pack feasts on dinner leftovers back in the kitchen. 

Dew is still beaming, and Aether basks in it all with a full belly and a warm heart.

(Here's the restaurant in question. Khachapuri there so good it changed my life.)

[caribbean1989]

It's Better Together - A Baby Lasagna fanfiction

Who: Baby Lasagna / Marko Purisic Request: maybe the reader is representing another country (doesn't have to be a singer maybe in the team) and after the behaviour of isreali's team (as many people said they treated them bad) she isn't feeling well and marko helps her and supports her. Requested by: anonymous Word count: 916 Warnings: some implied swearing and rudeness.

A/N: Thank you so much for your request. I have changed it a little bit, so it's not specifically about the Israeli team being the rude one, but it can still be read as such.

If you want me to write more Baby Lasagna fics, you can always make a request through my Ask Box. For more information on my Baby Lasagna fanfics, see this masterpost

It had always been your dream to represent your country at the Eurovision Song Contest. This year, your dream came true true when you were selected as the contestant for your country.

After months of preparations, the moment was finally there. As soon as you'd arrived in Malmö it was everything you had hoped for and more. Your fellow contestants were really nice and supportive, the organization was flawless, and so far you were really enjoying yourself. You weren't the favorite with the bookmakers, but they still tipped you for a top 10 candidate.

The schedule was demanding, though. Each day was filled to the brim with rehearsals, interviews and other press-related obligations. Some of the interviews were fun, others were dull, but today you had had an interview with a journalist who was flat-out rude and even somewhat hostile. During the interview you were able to keep your cool, but it took every ounce of your self-control to do so.

Immediately after you were done, you stalked out of the room and made straight for the contestants' lounge. That area was only accessible to the performers, and strictly off-limits to any kind of media-personnel. Since it was late in the evening and most of the other contestants had already finished their duties for the day, you expected it to be empty. And some alone-time to cool off was just what you needed.

Without even checking if someone else was in the lounge when you stepped in, you angrily slammed the door closed behind you, and loudly released an entire string of curses in your native language.

A startled gasp from further down the room made you realize that you weren't alone after all. You let your eyes roam over the dozens of sofa's and armchairs crammed into the lounge, and indeed found one, halfway down the room, occupied. It was Marko who sat there. Your little outburst had clearly startled him, and he had jumped up from his seat. He now stood looking at you a little wide-eyed.

"I'm so sorry about that." You passed a hand over your face and took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. "I survived," he chuckled, before a frown crossed over his face. "Are you alright?" "Yeah..." You sighed. It wasn't truthful, but you didn't want to burden him with your troubles.

But Marko wasn't so easily fooled. He cocked his head slightly to the side, and gave you an intense stare for about a second. "No, you're not." He stated quite confidently. You couldn't help but laugh. Of course you had met Marko in the previous days. You liked him, and you had had a few nice chats with him, but you two didn't really know much about each other. So the confidence in his statement surprised you.

"Please, don't take this the wrong way." Marko immediately second-guessed himself. "But I think you still look... upset." He wrung his hands together, clearly uncomfortable by his own words and wondering if you were going to get angry with him now.

"You're right," you finally confessed. You weren't nearly alright yet and still way too upset by how the journalist had treated you. Yet, you were strangely relieved that Marko was here and had seen that you were still distraught.

"Maybe you should sit down." Marko quickly recollected himself. You nodded quietly, before walking over to where Marko had been sitting and throwing yourself down in the armchair opposite him. "Here." Marko handed you a bottle of water and sat down as well. You gratefully accepted the water, taking a few sips of the much needed hydration.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Marko smiled shyly. "It's just... this journalist." You shook your head. "The interview I've just had was awful. So rude and disrespectful." "Ah..." Marko understood immediately. "I know exactly who you mean. If it's any consolation, he's rude to everyone. I had to do an interview with him yesterday, and... let's just say that I was glad when it was over."

Marko's words did make you feel a little better. If someone could be rude to a gentle soul like Marko, they were just mean and heartless.

Suddenly you remembered that tomorrow you had another, even longer interview scheduled with the same journalist. "Oh, no!" You buried your face in your hands. "I totally forgot I've got to do more press with that guy tomorrow." To your surprise, Marko chuckled softly. "You and me both. Quite literally actually." "What do you mean?" You looked up at him. Marko smiled crookedly at you, giving a one-shouldered shrug. "You and I are teamed up for press tomorrow."

You blinked stupidly at him for a few seconds. You needed a moment to remember that Marko was indeed right. In your fury and frustration that fact had completely slipped your mind. "So sorry," you mumbled, "I forgot about that." Marko smiled another shy smile. "It's fine."

For a few moments there was silence between the two of you. "I'm glad we're teamed up for tomorrow." You broke the silence. "You're a good guy, and I feel really at ease with you." Marko blushed slightly red. "Me, too. And if anyone is rude to us tomorrow, I'm sure we'll be able to get each other through." "Absolutely," you nodded happily, all the anger of just now quickly draining from you.

And suddenly, tomorrow's press day didn't seem so bad anymore, because you knew Marko would be there with you.

[cricketnationrise]

Took me forever to send you this because I couldn't decide which Beyoncé lyrics to send (if the ones I picked aren't inspiring, feel free to request different ones, there's so many to pick from!) so I hope i'm not too late 🙃 this is so fun, thank you for organizing this fest!

9:26pm, the brownstone, Alex Claremont-Diaz, "Private show with the music blasting / He like to call me Peaches when we get this nasty", rated E 😈

My Ao3 username is Calou 😊

fitting that you were right under the wire in submitting because it took me almost five months to get to this prompt. i hope its worth the wait!

a big thank you to everyone who submitted and to everyone who's been reading and commenting along the way. i love doing the ficlet fests, the prompts are always a delight and let me get out of any writing funk i find myself in. yall rock.

as a parting gift for Ficlet Fest 500, please enjoy exactly 1000 words of straight gay up filth, as requested in the GC.

read the rest of the ficlets here

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

9:26pm, the brownstone

Alex’s brain falls out of his head when Henry comes downstairs. He apparently took Pez’s dress code seriously for once; he’s dressed to fucking impress. (Alex is so far past impressed he’s having heart palpitations.) Henry looks good in everything, from a full suit to sweatpants, but when he lets himself relax, lets himself lean into being one hundred percent himself, he ascends to a whole other level.

His white shorts are going to be the death of Alex. They’re short, showing off strong calves and stacked, polo-playing thighs, and just this side of respectably opaque. But if there’s a strong enough backlight, anyone who isn’t intimately familiar with Henry’s particular topography, will be. The shorts would be enough to cause Alex a factory reset, but then he notices the shirt. It’s halfway unbuttoned, straining to accommodate Henry’s wide shoulders, and short enough in the torso that he’s baring midriff. And it’s one of Alex’s shirts. The novelty ice cream cone print has never looked so fucking good. 

Alex can see the tops of Henry’s hipbones—they’re mouth-wateringly obscene. Henry shouldn’t be allowed out of the house like this; he’s a danger to everyone around him. Drivers will run their cars off the road, pedestrians will walk into poles, et fucking cetera. Really, Alex has a fucking duty toward public safety to tackle Henry onto their couch and take him apart with his teeth. 

So he does.

Henry makes a noise somewhere between a squawk and a whimper and Alex wants to lick it out of his mouth. He captures Henry’s lips in a kiss as they land, barely letting him breathe, let alone put up a token protest because he feels like they should be social. Henry groans and melts into the cushions, letting Alex do whatever he wants. The trust Henry puts in him is heady, and Alex spirals that much higher when Henry throws his arms around Alex’s neck to keep him in place. His own hands are busy mapping every bit of exposed skin on Henry’s chest, slipping beneath Alex’s own fucking shirt to reach the scant inches that are still hidden below fabric. Alex takes advantage of Henry’s gasp of pleasure when Alex scratches lightly at his bicep to slip his tongue inside Henry’s mouth.

Both of them are already breathing hard, the sound of spit and panting filling the air. Alex manages to stop kissing Henry’s mouth, but only to nip down his throat, pausing at the pulse point to bite down. Henry always complains about having to be careful of covering the marks Alex leaves, but he never actually asks Alex to stop. (They were thirty minutes late to meet Nora for brunch last month when Alex caught Henry pressing down on a hickey in the bathroom and Alex had to bend him over the sink about it.) Henry’s moan at the graze of Alex’s teeth against his neck is a siren song; the way he tips his head to the side to give Alex more room, a gift from the gods. 

Henry pushes at his head, directing Alex with a pleading whine. Alex is only too happy to oblige, nipping and licking and sucking down Henry’s sternum, fingers fumbling to open the shirt. He spends a few minutes teasing Henry, alternating kisses with quick bites across his soft belly. Alex noses along his waistband, inhaling the scent of sweat and something uniquely Henry. Alex’s hands tighten on Henry’s thighs involuntarily when Henry’s fingers find a home in his hair and pull tight. Alex can’t wait another minute to get Henry’s cock in his mouth.

Alex liberates his curls from Henry’s hands and rearranges them so that Henry is sort of upright and Alex kneels on the floor between his legs. Alex means to dive in at once, but he has to take a second to fully absorb the fucking daydream of a man in front of him. Henry’s eyes have darkened, pupils blown wide and clouded with arousal. He’s sagging into the couch, relying on the furniture to keep him sitting up, seemingly unable to count on his muscles to do the job. Henry’s flushed from his cheeks to his hips, his hairline starting to darken with sweat. Alex’s gaze keeps snagging on the hickey he left—one fine day he’ll give into the desire to leave a whole goddamn collar of them.

Henry shifts, drawing Alex’s attention to his erection, straining against the white fabric of his shorts. Alex can’t help but to give him a firm stroke to his bulge, delighting in the strangled gasp it pulls from Henry. He can feel Henry twitch beneath his palm, can feel Henry’s racing pulse through the fabric, and then he’s moving—undoing Henry’s fly and pulling down his shorts and briefs in one fell swoop.

Henry actually shouts when Alex takes him to the root in one long smooth motion—he’s never been more glad for his lack of gag reflex. He stays there for a moment, breathing through his nose, the tip of Henry’s cock right at the back of his mouth. He looks up at Henry through his eyelashes. Henry’s practically shaking with the effort of holding himself still. How unnecessarily gentlemanly. Alex pries Henry’s hands out of the couch cushion and back into his hair before moving his own hands to Henry’s hips. He blinks twice, their nonverbal green signal, just to really drive the point home. With a mumbled curse, Henry starts thrusting and Alex closes his eyes, groaning every time Henry’s cock dips into his throat.

Alex’s jaw aches from the stretch, and his own cock is leaking and pressing uncomfortably against his zipper, but he couldn’t care less. He’s got Henry filling his mouth, surrounded by his hands and thighs and noises and taste—

They’re definitely going to be late to Pez’s party, if they even make it out of the house. Alex couldn’t give less of a fuck if they don’t; there’ll be other parties.

[mychlapci]

HEWWO the anon asking for sunstreaker made me think of a fic I read where the sg autobots kind of pass the eggs around to share the carrying load

Thinking about prowl telling the twins that they need to take some responsibility for filling him with so many eggs. How is he supposed to work AND carry two bots worth of eggs.

(Honestly I can't decide if it's hotter if the twins just let him do it, or if he has to wrestle them into it, denta on suntreakers head fin as he pins the squirming lambo from behind. Maybe that gets the twins off yknow. A show of strength)

Prowl grinds his wet, swollen valve against sunstreakers plating until it snaps open, revealing his valve that is just starting to leak.

And then prowl pushes. He vaguely registers that the push comes with a gasp as the first egg is pushed back through his valve, the stretch stimulating his already active array.

Sunstreaker lets out an uncharacteristic cry as he suddenly feels something hard pushing into his valve. His calipers are forced apart as his frame swallows the egg. His frame shakes, digits scrabbling against the surface of the berth, back plating pressed against prowls bumper as superior officer leans over him. His legs shake and go limp as the second egg enters him, the burning stretch accompanied with waves of pleasure as he lets slip a shaky moan. He feels prowls arm snake around his middle, pushing the yellow twin's hips back against prowls.

Sideswipe whines and paws at prowls trembling doorwings. His modesty plating has snapped back ages ago, lubrication all but gushing forth as he watched. Don't leave him out please please please he wants to full of eggs too

oh god, that fanfic sounds so familiar... my first ever transformers fanfic that i’ve read and that introduced me to transformers as a fandom was a jazzprowl fic where Prowl lays his eggs into Jazz even as he tells him to stop... I do think you mean a different fic, but it’s a nice memory to be reminded of. me and my friend read it out loud.

mhmmm Sunny and Sides laid so many eggs into him, there’s no way he can do his work while waddling around like that! Of course, he has to pin them down to make them share the responsibility, especially Sunstreaker, who doesn’t want to get his pretty waist ruined by a fat pregnancy belly... doesn’t stop him from loving it, though. He’ll sob and squeal as Prowl holds him down, pussies pressed together, eggs sliding into his port one by one and settling heavy in his forge, but he’s cumming like crazy the entire time.

Sideswipe is dripping wet and nipping at Prowl’s neck, telling him that Sunny’s had enough, please lay some eggs in him too. Prowl obliges. Sunstreaker lies limp and shaking with the aftershocks while Sideswipe moans and gushes around each egg passing into his valve.

At the end, all three of them are pregnant.

[thattouceyboy]

This is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do for my pride, and I know that it is a long shot. I am taking the biggest shot in the dark that I have ever done, and I hopefully will never again in my life need to do this.

My name is Severin. I am going to be homeless soon if I cannot find some way to gain money, and I am making this post to beg on my hands and knees to find help.

You can message me for the links to help, as I have no follower base and I'm afraid this post will disappear entirely if I try to out in a link or tag it in any way. If you'd like a tarot reading, I can do those. If you'd like a piece of writing, I can do that. I'll edit your school paper. You do not need to send me anything for nothing, if you want something in return I will do what I can. But I need help. What I need in the long run is $2,550— what I am asking for is $500, even $100 cumulatively from anyone, anywhere around this site who has anything to spare.

I know this is a long shot. I know this is the site of disabled queer folk who have nothing for themselves. But I am hoping against hope that if I swallow my pride and put this out there, I will be able to scrape by without ending up homeless.

Please reblog if you can... I know most of us don't have money. I'm just trying to not be out in the literal cold for a Canadian December.

[benkeibear]

I debated for a while if I post this but I've decided that I will.

First of all I'd like to apologize for the negativity on dash, please don't feel obligated to reply - I don't want pity, I'm simply done hiding and cowering away from this.

Tw: Anon hate, death threats, suicide.

It's been months, 9 to be exact that I got my first anon that gave me a long guide on how to end my life while I was grieving the loss of my father who has passed just 2 weeks prior. I was made fun of for grieving. I got that guide and it didn't stop there.

Every single day since then my asks would be filled with nasty things. Most days it's your generic "kys" and I'd block and delete, so used to seeing it when i shouldn't. Sometimes that person got a little more creative and wrote paragraphs that remained unread but it still affected me. It slowly wore me down.

Honestly, I blame myself. I could have turned anon off but they harass me on burners regardless so I left the anon option on, for the sake of the few people who like to communicate with me but are too shy.

But I'm done now. I try to make tumblr a beautiful place for myself and others by posting only the positive things, daily good morning posts and affirmations, trying to be more active, trying to reach out more so I get out of this shy shell but each time I try they come back.

I almost deactivated before my hiatus because they're getting to me slowly (congratulations asshole, hope you're happy reading this!) i get physically sick when i try to write. I'm scared to post because they will tell me nasty things again. I started questioning myself, my worth, if I'm even still allowed to be here, wanted here.

And yesterday things boiled over when over the course of perhaps 2 hours this person spammed my asks to the point of making me cry. I'm done seeing this fucking behavior every single day and I kindly ask for whoever this is to please stop this. I am ASKING you. Hell i'd get on my knees and beg for you even. I'm done seeing this. Please just stop it.

It's okay if you don't like me, it's okay if you hate me but then just block me. I won't leave because of you. Not here, not life.

[erabu-san]

Hmm I apologize again for the rant !

It is not the first time I am doing it. I might forgot to put "please don't tag it as ship" under my drawing of tighnari cyno. Please, do not !

I love them as best friend, I love them as brother/found family, I don't mind the queerplatonic relationship at all

But their romantic side make me pretty uncomfortable. No hate ! It is my own taste.

Shippers are always welcomed and I am so glad you like my content 💕 but all my art concerning them (unless I tag the ship) are purely platonic. I just ask for some respect of my taste and not reblog my art with the ship tag.

I don't want to block, because I am genuinely glad you enjoy my work and as a young artist, it means a lot for me. Thank you so much 🙇 !! But as a human, I can't deny how uneasy it makes me feel.

Thank you for understanding !

[tokyocyborg]

[senxitive]

It's 2023 and I'm still hoping my favorite Beatles fan fics get surprise updates this year 😭

[florenceisfalling]

oh btw anyone who sends me asks abt Minecraft Youtuber Situation rn is getting hit over the head with a comically large hammer its not my place to publicly weigh in on a future court case i am literally just going to stay quiet til we figure out what is goin on!

[slimeylee]

why have these last years fucking sucked ass

[batwalks]

.

[applespider]

Strong independent woman? More like pathetic dependent woman who’s flaws counter out any good qualities she has twice over. I’m still talking about Aqua. I love her so much. That’s something I really like about the Konosuba cast in general. Found family without the wholesome. They never leave the first town, they’re constantly in debt, everyone knows them as those weirdos who cause problems, but they kind of love each other anyway. They’re found family because they all suck so much they can’t survive without each other. They aren’tin a position to reject each other because of their weird or unlikeable qualities. They’re the same. You just kind of accept it. And isn’t that what family is?

I’m not wording this right, but they’re just such normal people. They like cool stuff even if it’s seen as cringe, they can’t help but blow their earnings on nice alcohol, they work a regular job because adventuring doesn’t really pay. They adjust to each other. Kazuma taking Megumin out to do her explosions, Aqua and Kazuma being the same fucking person, both irritating each other and understanding each other because of it. Kazuma not wanting to fight the demon king because it sounds like a lot of work. They accept each others weirdness out of necessity. That’smy type of found family.