#traditional New Year’s day desserts

[newsmagnifysworld]

What New Year’s Cake Recipes Can You Try In 2023?

Following Christmas, New Year calls for some amazing cake recipes. Here are some decadent cakes to keep you sorted for the year. Save the collection now!

As New Year approaches, the first thing that comes to mind is making resolutions that you will follow for the remainder of the year. If one of your New Year's resolutions is baking the best of the best cakes, this article will surely attract you. In this article, we will talk about 12 interesting New Year’s Cake Recipes that you can consider this year. You can also go ahead and bake one new cake each month following the new dessert recipes.

Top 12 Interesting New Year’s Cake Recipes To Explore

Sweet tooth alert! Here are all the best new dessert recipes for New Year and beyond that you might want to explore. Have a look at these amazing beauties.

Apple Butter Pound Cake With Caramel Frosting

Want buttery flavour in every bite? Try the apple butter New Year’s Bundt cake with caramel frosting. The cake is luscious and made with apple, butter, and of course, caramel. Beat the butter more to get a fluffier and even more buttery taste in each bite of the traditional New Year’s day desserts.

Bananas Foster Cake With Rum Buttercream

How about a boozy cake? Bananas foster cake with rum buttercream is made with perfectly ripe bananas. You can also use the browning bananas that you otherwise would just have wasted. This fruity-boozy flavour is sure to increase cravings.

Blueberry Cheesecake

This is an awesome match for tart cheesecake, one of the most craved traditional New Year’s day desserts. Get those fresh blueberries from the market to make this New Year’s cheesecake. To enjoy the leftovers throughout the month, make mini cheesecakes in bulk and freeze them. You would definitely finish a batch of New Year’s cheesecake in one sitting if you bake the big one.

Butter Toffee Pecan Layer Cake

This is a luxurious pecan cake that looks quite overwhelming with the browned butter and toasted pecans at the top. The caramel frosting keeps it moist for more than 3 days.

Chocolate Mayonnaise Cake

Haven’t tried it yet? You are missing out on the best variant! It will be the light and fluffy cake you will want to make again and again, thanks to the mayo. There is just the right amount of sweetness in this moist and rich cake. This is one of the traditional New Year’s day desserts loved by all ages!

Classic Southern Pound Cake

This is not just a New Year’s Bundt cake made for a special occasion. You can make it any time of the year and on all kinds of occasions. This pound cake has a nice caramelized crunch on the outside and a pillowy soft crumb inside. This pound cake can be a taste enhancer for breakfast, as an afternoon snack, or even as a dessert.

Lime Icebox Cake

You'll love this cool and creamy cake during the summer when you crave sweetness. The cherry on top is the fact that this needs no baking and can be made with a little effort. To give a seasonal touch to the cake, add small pieces of seasonal fruits or berries. For more such new dessert recipes, visit https://www.newsmagnify.com/category/lifestyle/food/. 

Molten Red Velvet Cake

Want to experience choco lava in red, fluffy, and miniature cakes? Molten red velvet cake is a match! This dreamy cake is a dessert that is sinfully delicious and can make a day even more romantic. 

Orange Chiffon Cake

Enjoy this winter with oranges. Add some tanginess to your cake. To make this cake, whip up the chiffon cake with some orange juice and orange zest in the batter. Let us tell you, this cake recipe is going to be your best friend for a long time to come.

Peach Cobbler Cake

The stunning layer cake is a combination of peach cobbler and angel food cake. You will love the light, fluffy cake, the cloudlike whipped cream, and the fresh, tender peaches in this heavenly cake.

Pumpkin Pie Cake

Just wasting your life eating pumpkin as a vegetable? This season you need to make this pumpkin pie cake and make everyone awestruck. With a generous scoop of vanilla ice cream, this cake rendition is best enjoyed with a graham cracker crust.

Sea Salt Caramel Cake

Make your classic caramel cake saltier this holiday season. Your New Year's celebration will be wow-worthy with this dessert, which features a fluffy cake, sweet caramel frosting, and a sprinkle of flaky sea salt. There will be repeated requests for this festive cake all year long.

News Magnify is the best online news website that is one of the best India news online sources. Apart from the New Year’s Cake Recipes, the website also boasts a collection of other mouthwatering recipes and New Year’s dessert in 5 minutes recipes in its Food section. Additionally, the news portal also provides the latest lifestyle news in its Lifestyle category. If you are eager to revive various other latest news and latest updates on a variety of categories, make sure to check out the website.

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#New Year’s Cake Recipes #new dessert recipes #traditional New Year’s day desserts #New Year’s cheesecake #New Year’s Bundt cake #best online news website #latest lifestyle news #India news online

[virgobingo]

more insight on miles’ puerto rican heritage for your fics or fanart

- traditional quinceañeras (or as they are often called by puerto ricans quinceañeros) are really not that common anymore, most girls nowadays have pool parties or go on a cruise. if miles were to go to one of his cousins’ 15 birthday party, chances are it would be casual— no big poofy dress (his mom probably had one like that though)

edit: some people disagree on this. depends on how traditional your family and friend group is I guess, as well as which part of the island you’re from. on average, it seems to be a far bigger deal amongst some other latines. in my class in pr only 3 out of approx 30 girls had a big event like that. not a single one of my cousins had a traditional quince either so you could say I’m partly biased bc of my own experiences. i personally just had a big pool party

- plantains are a big part of our diet. also, pr being an island in the caribbean, coconut is in a lot of our desserts. if miles had to pick a favorite fruit I hc he’d pick either one of the two lol also please google our food, our food isn’t actually spicy so much as savory

- we “celebrate” thanksgiving like other americans. it’s about the only time we eat oven roasted turkey. for winter holidays (christmas eve/day, new years eve/day, three kings day/eve) oven roasted pork. chicken might be offered as a second option for people who don’t consume pork for whatever reason

- you’re pretty much taught how to dance as soon as you can walk. most of us have basic rhythms down. chances of miles dancing with his mom or friends at parties? astronomically high.

- the reason why our flag is everywhere, besides pride, is ‘cause it was illegal to own it. look up the gag law that prohibited us from even displaying it at our homes. so it’s actually an awesome detail in these movies

- this is my opinion/a fun fact but I feel like miles is basically an homage to black and puerto rican (specifically nuyorican) solidarity around the 70s-80s during the creation of hip-hop and rise of graffiti as a form of expression (you can easily read up on this or watch shows like the get down to learn more about this if you’re curious)

- whether you’re “nuyorican” or “from the island” spanglish is common so miles’ mixing english and spanish isn’t odd bc even rio does this as miles points out in the party scene. he isn’t a “no sabo” kid so much as someone with a strong accent. he understands his mom perfectly

- race ≠ ethnicity. there are plenty of black people in and from Puerto Rico, and miles’ pr family in the spiderverse films are designed to be for the most part afro-latine. so I wouldn’t really call him biracial

- the puerto rican day parade wouldn’t be a thing he skips, he’s gifted a special suit for it in a comic run. his puerto rican heritage is important to him!

#if you’re writing and need cultural insight i don’t mind messages hhhhh #what he represents matters a lot to me #spiderverse #miles molares #spiderman #punkflower #gwiles #flowerbyte

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake | Things you didn't notice (probably)

Finally, I am watching a good K-BL and can enjoy multi-layered meanings within language, culture and translated subs altogether (unlike with Thai series where I need to learn a new language again xD)

So I'll be pointing out some fun things that I noticed for fellow foreign viewers =) Beware of a long post!

Disclaimer: I'm not fluent in Korean, but I've been learning and using it for years + lived and studied in Korea for a while so I'm offering my perspective and knowledge but it might not be the Ultimate Truth

Episode 1

«I prefer lonely supporting characters instead of happy protagonists. Cha Yeowoon is still unhappy. ... - Where are you going? - To see my main (최애). I mean, Cha Yeowoon.»

The word Tae Myungha used to described Cha Yeowoon, as I heard, was actually 최애 (choe-ae). It's a slang that can be translated as "my favourite" and typically is used for K-pop group members, meaning "my bias" (think One True Pairing but One True Person instead). Then, as his fellow classmate gets confused, hearing such word referring to a popular student in their school, Tae Myungha changes to "I mean, Cha Yeowoon", and it works because the word and the name sound similar.

Myungha uses this word because in the intro he stated that Yeowoon is his favourite character in the book out of all. So basically, his first reaction was "- Where are you going? - I'm gonna run to find my blorbo<3", which is so admirable. I'd also get obsessed with making happy my fav side character that was treated unfairly by creators :D

«Kids like chocolate, right? ... (Yeowoon grabs an icecream, Myungha grabs the same, adding with surprise:) Didn't see that coming. Bi-Bi-Big (비비빅)? You eat like an old man.»

What surprised Myungha there? That Yeowoon chose this icecream->

It's a traditional icecream that is made out of red beans. This taste is usually associated with older people (because typically kids like sweet things and older people like less sweet/bland tastes), also red beans or read bean paste is used in many traditional desserts in Korea. Yeah, who would've thought that a high schooler would choose this icecream out of all options?

Later, Myungha gets the message "You can compare Bi-Bi-Big to big Ba-Bum-Bar (another icecream with "old man taste" from chestnuts), why the hell would you eat it?" and gets confused as the message seems missent. I am confused as well, because Myungha wasn't the one choosing this icecream and Yeowoon wasn't typing in his phone. Considering that the phone number is unknown, I can guess that it might be a commentary from the book's author who's watching Myungha playing his story game? Let's figure it out in the next episodes!

«- You eat like an old man. - Do you play sports? - No. - Weird. You're a whiner like I've always heard. - Kids these days have no manners.»

My quick translation->

«- You eat like an old man. - Sunbae, do you play sports? - No. - Strange. You sound like one of those older jerks (꼰대). - Kids these days have no manners.»

More on the differences between Tae Myungha and Cha Yeowoon:

Myungha tried to poke Yeowoon about his "old man tastes", and Yeowoon called him out for his conservative/stereotypical thinking.

Yeowoon keeps calling Myungha sunbae (because he knows MH's a senior in their school so he must be polite), and Myungha REALLY TALKS LIKE AN OLD MAN to him ("Kids these days" in the subs does translate this style of speech correctly! I'm glad). We all know he's much older before he was thrown into high school times (~25-30yo?), but his words and intonations really make you feel like he's 50-60yo or something xD

Yeowoon doesn't like this at all, though, so he calls Myungha a sort of derogatory term 꼰대 (kkondae), which is used to described old conservative people who are set in their ways and keep nagging and scolding young people for not behaving properly. And, as a runner, he implies that there are senior sportsmen that are hazing or nagging younger sportsmen like this as well, that's who Myungha reminds him of. No wonder the affection stats fell down in the minus zone so hard!

There you go, guys, these are my comments on the first episode of Love for Love's sake! It is filmed so well, I like the idea, and I really enjoyed it (if this one gets really popular just like Semantic Error, we might get more BLs about gamers or gamedevs and I WILL LOVE IT I am so here for it, hehe)

Stay tuned for more as I watch next episodes :]

#love for love's sake #kdrama #love for love's sake meta #korean bl #bl series #lfls #lfls meta #love for love's sake reaction #dropthemeta #love for love's sake comments

[najia-cooks]

[ID: First image shows four small porcelain bowls of a pudding topped with slivered almonds and pomegranates seeds, seen from above. Second image is an extreme close-up showing the blue floral pattern on the china, slivered almonds, golden raisins, and pomegranate seeds on top of part of the pudding. End ID]

անուշապուր / Anush apur (Armenian wheat dessert)

Anush apur is a sweet boiled wheat pudding, enriched with nuts and dried fruits, that is eaten by Armenians to celebrate special occasions. One legend associates the dish with Noah's Ark: standing on Mt. Ararat (Արարատ լեռը) and seeing the rainbow of God's covenant with humanity, Noah wished to celebrate, and called for a stew to be prepared; because the Ark's stores were diminishing, the stew had to be made with small amounts of many different ingredients.

The consumption of boiled grains is of ancient origin throughout the Levant and elsewhere in West Asia, and so variations of this dish are widespread. The Armenian term is from "անուշ" ("anush") "sweet" + "ապուր" ("apur") "soup," but closely related dishes (or, arguably, versions of the same dish) have many different, overlapping names.

In Arabic, an enriched wheat pudding may be known as "سْنَينِيّة" ("snaynīyya"), presumably from "سِنّ" "sinn" "tooth" and related to the tradition of serving it on the occasion of an infant's teething; "قَمْح مَسْلُوق‎" ("qamḥ masluq"), "boiled wheat"; or "سَلِيقَة" ("salīqa") or "سَلِيقَة القَمْح" ("salīqa al-qamḥ"), "stew" or "wheat stew," from "سَلَقَ‎" "salaqa" "to boil." Though these dishes are often related to celebrations and happy occasions, in some places they retain an ancient association with death and funerary rites: qamh masluq is often served at funerals in the Christian town of بَيْت جَالَا ("bayt jālā," Beit Jala, near Bethlehem).

A Lebanese iteration, often made with milk rather than water, is known as "قَمْحِيَّة" ("qamḥīyya," from "qamḥ" "wheat" + "ـِيَّة" "iyya," noun suffix).

A similar dish is known as "بُرْبَارَة" ("burbāra") by Palestinian and Jordanian Christians when eaten to celebrate the feast of Saint Barbara, which falls on the 4th of December (compare Greek "βαρβάρα" "varvára"). It may be garnished with sugar-coated chickpeas and small, brightly colored fennel candies in addition to the expected dried fruits and nuts.

In Turkish it is "aşure," from the Arabic "عَاشُوْرَاء" ("'āshūrā"), itself from "عَاشِر" ("'āshir") "tenth"—because it is often served on the tenth day of the month of ٱلْمُحَرَّم ("muḥarram"), to commemorate Gabriel's teaching Adam and Eve how to farm wheat; Noah's disembarkment from the Ark; Moses' parting of the Red Sea; and the killing of the prophet الْحُسَيْن بْنِ عَلِي (Husayn ibn 'Ali), all of which took place on this day in the Islamic calendar. Here it also includes various types of beans and chickpeas. There is also "diş buğdayı," "tooth wheat" (compare "snayniyya").

These dishes, as well as slight variations in add-ins, have varying consistencies. At one extreme, koliva (Greek: "κόλλυβα"; Serbian: "Кољиво"; Bulgarian: "Кутя"; Romanian: "colivă"; Georgian: "კოლიო") is made from wheat that has been boiled and then strained to remove the boiling water; at the other, Armenian anush apur is usually made thin, and cools to a jelly-like consistency.

Anush apur is eaten to celebrate occasions including New Year's Eve, Easter, and Christmas. In Palestine, Christmas is celebrated by members of the Armenian Apostolic church from the evening of December 24th to the day of December 25th by the old Julian calendar (January 6th–7th, according to the new Gregorian calendar); Armenian Catholics celebrate on December 24th and 25th by the Gregorian calendar. Families will make large batches of anush apur and exchange bowls with their neighbors and friends.

The history of Armenians in Palestine is deeply interwoven with the history of Palestinian Christianity. Armenian Christian pilgrimages to holy sites in Palestine date back to the 4th century A.D., and permanent Armenian monastic communities have existed in Jerusalem since the 6th century. This enduring presence, bolstered by subsequent waves of immigration which have increased and changed the character of the Armenian population in Palestine in the intervening centuries, has produced a rich history of mutual influence between Armenian and Palestinian food cultures.

In the centuries following the establishment of the monasteries, communities of Armenian laypeople arose and grew, centered around Jerusalem's Վանք Հայոց Սրբոց Յակոբեանց ("vank hayots surbots yakobeants"; Monastery of St. James) (Arabic: دَيْر مَار يَعْقُوب "dayr mār ya'qūb"). Some of these laypeople were descended from the earlier pilgrims. By the end of the 11th century, what is now called the Armenian Quarter—an area covering about a sixth of the Old City of Jerusalem, to the southwest—had largely attained its present boundaries.

Throughout the 16th and 17th centuries, the Patriarchate in Jerusalem came to have direct administrative authority over Armenian Christians across Palestine, Lebanon, Egypt, and Cyprus, and was an important figure in Christian leadership and management of holy sites in Jerusalem (alongside the Greek Orthodox and Roman Catholic churches). By the middle of the 19th century, a small population of Armenian Catholics had joined the larger Armenian Apostolic community as permanent residents in Jerusalem, living throughout the Muslim Quarter (but mostly in a concentrated enclave in the southwest); in the beginning of the 20th century, there were between 2,000 and 3,000 Armenians of both churches in Palestine, a plurality of whom (1,200) lived in Jerusalem.

The Turkish genocide of Armenians beginning in 1915 caused significant increases in the populations of Armenian enclaves in Palestine. The Armenian population in Jerusalem grew from 1,500 to 5,000 between the years of 1918 and 1922; over the next 3 years, the total number of Armenians in Palestine (according to Patriarchate data) would grow to 15,000. More than 800 children were taken into Armenian orphanages in Jerusalem; students from the destroyed Չարխափան Սուրբ Աստվածածին վանք (Charkhapan Surb Astvatsatsin Monastery) and theological seminary in Armash, Armenia were brought to the Jerusalem Seminary. The population of Armenian Catholics in the Muslim Quarter also increased during the first half of the 20th century as immigrants from Cilicia and elsewhere arrived.

The immediate importance of feeding and housing the refugees despite a new lack of donations from Armenian pilgrims, who had stopped coming during WW1—as well as the fact that the established Armenian-Palestinians were now outnumbered by recent immigrants who largely did not share their reformist views—disrupted efforts on the part of lay communities and some priests to give Armenian laypeople a say in church governance.

The British Mandate, under which Britain assumed political and military control of Palestine from 1923–1948, would further decrease the Armenian lay community's voice in Jerusalem (removing, for example, their say in elections of new church Patriarchs). The British knew that the indigenous population would be easier to control if they were politically and socially divided into their separate religious groups and subjected to the authority of their various religious hierarchies, rather than having direct political representation in government; they also took advantage of the fact that the ecclesiastical orders of several Palestinian Christian sects (including the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem) comprised people from outside of Palestine, who identified with religious hierarchy and the British authorities more than they identified with the Palestinian lay communities.

British policy, as well as alienating Armenians from politics affecting their communities, isolated them from Arab Palestinians. Though the previously extant Armenian community (called "քաղաքացի" "kaghakatsi," "city-dwellers") were thoroughly integrated with the Arab Palestinians in the 1920s, speaking Arabic and Arabic-accented Armenian and eating Palestinian foods, the newer arrivals (called "زُوَّار" / "զուվվար" "zuwwar," "visitors") were unfamiliar with Palestinian cuisine and customs, and spoke only Armenian and/or Turkish. Thus British policies, which differentiated people based on status as "Arab" (Muslim and Christian) versus "Jewish," left new Armenian immigrants, who did not identify as Arab, disconnected from the issues that concerned most Palestinians. They were predominantly interested in preserving Armenian culture, and more concerned with the politics of the Armenian diaspora than with local ones.

Despite these challenges, the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem came to be a vital center of religious and secular culture for the Armenian diaspora during the British Mandate years. In 1929, Patriarch Yeghishe Turian reëstablished the Սուրբ Յակոբեանց Տպարան ("surbots yakobeants taparan"; St. James printing house); the Patriarchate housed important archives relating to the history of the Armenian people; pilgrimages of Armenians from Syria, Lebanon, and Egypt increased and the economy improved, attracting Armenian immigrants in higher numbers; Armenians held secular roles in governance, policing, and business, and founded social, religious, and educational organizations and institutions; Armenians in the Old and New Cities of Jerusalem were able to send financial aid to Armenian victims of a 1933 earthquake in Beirut, and to Armenians expelled in 1939 when Turkey annexed Alexandretta.

The situation would decline rapidly after the 1947 UN partition resolution gave Zionists tacit permission to expel Palestinians from broad swathes of Palestine. Jerusalem, intended by the plan to be a "corpus separatum" under international administration, was in fact subjected to a months-long war that ended with its being divided into western (Israeli) and eastern (Palestinian) sections. The Armenian population of Palestine began to decline; already, 1947 saw 1,500 Armenians resettled in Soviet Armenia. The Armenian populations in Yafa and Haifa would fall yet more significantly.

Still, the Armenian Patriarchate of Jerusalem maintained its role as the center of Armenian life in Palestine; the compound provided food and shelter to thousands of Armenians during the Battle for Jerusalem and the Nakba (which began in 1948). Some Armenians formed a militia to defend the Armenian Quarter against Haganah shelling during the battle.

In the following years, historical British contributions to the shoring up of insular power in the Patriarchate would cause new problems. The Armenian secular community, no longer empowered to oversee the internal workings of the Patriarchate, could do nothing to prevent embezzling, corruption, and even the sale of church-owned land and buildings to settlers.

In 1967, Israeli military forces annexed East Jerusalem, causing another, albeit smaller, surge in Armenian emigration from the city. Daphne Tsimhoni estimates based on various censuses that the Armenian population of Jerusalem, which had reached 5,000-7,000 at its peak in 1945–6, had fallen back to 1,200 by 1978.

Today, as in the 20th century, Armenians in Jerusalem (who made up nearly 90% of the Armenian population of Palestine as of 1972) are known for the insularity of their community, and for their skill at various crafts. Armenian food culture has been kept alive and well-defined by successive waves of immigrants. As of 2017, the Armenian Patriarchate supplied about 120 people a day with Armenian dishes, including Ղափամա / غاباما "ghapama" (pumpkin stuffed with rice and dried fruits), թոփիկ / توبيك "topig" (chickpea-and-potato dough stuffed with an onion, nut, fruit, and herb filling, often eaten during Lent), and Իչ / ايتش "eetch" (bulgur salad with tomatoes and herbs).

Restaurants lining the streets of the Armenian and Christian quarters serve a mixture of Armenian and Palestinian food. Լահմաջո "lahmadjoun" (meat-topped flatbread), and հարիսա / هريس "harisa" (stew with wheat and lamb) are served alongside ֆալաֆել / فلافل ("falafel") and մուսախան / مسخن ("musakhkhan"). One such restaurant, Taboon Wine Bar, was the site of a settler attack on Armenian diners in January 2023.

Up until 2023, despite fluctuations in population, the Armenian community in Jerusalem had been relatively stable when compared to other Armenian communities and to other quarters of the Old City; the Armenian Quarter had not been subjected to the development projects to which other quarters had been subjected. However, a deal which the Armenian Patriarchate had secretly and unilaterally made with Israel real estate developer Danny Rotham in 2021 to lease land and buildings (including family homes) in the Quarter led Jordan and Palestine to suspend their recognition of the Patriarch in May of 2023.

On 26th October, the Patriarchate announced that it was cancelling the leasing deal. Later the same day, Israeli bulldozers tore up pavement and part of a wall in حديقة البقر ("ḥadīqa al-baqar"; Cows' Garden; Armenian: "Կովերի այգու"), the planned site of a new luxury hotel. On 5th November, Rothman and other representatives of Xana Gardens arrived with 15 settlers—some of them with guns and attack dogs—and told local Armenians to leave. About 200 Armenian Palestinians arrived and forced the settlers to stand down.

On 12th and 13th November, the developer again arrived with bulldozers and attempted to continue demolition. In response, Armenian Palestinians have executed constant sit-ins, faced off against bulldozers, and set up barricades to prevent further destruction. The Israeli occupation police backed settlers on another incursion on 15th November, ordering Armenian residents to vacate the land and arresting three.

On December 28th, a group of Armenian bishops, priests, deacons, and seminary students (including Bishop Koryoun Baghdasaryan, the director of the Patriarchate's real estate department) were attacked by a group of more than 30 people armed with sticks and tear gas. The Patriarchate attributed this attack to Israeli real estate interests trying to intimidate the Patriarchate into abandoning their attempt to reverse the lease through the court system. Meanwhile, anti-Armenian hate crimes (including spitting on priests) had noticeably increased for the year of 2023.

These events in Palestine come immediately after the ethnic cleansing of Լեռնային Ղարաբաղ ("Lernayin Gharabagh"; Nagorno-Karabakh); Israel supplied exploding drones, long-range missiles, and rocket launchers to help Azerbaijan force nearly 120,000 Armenians out of the historically Armenian territory in September of 2023 (Azerbaijan receives about 70% of its weapons from Israel, and supplies about 40% of Israel's oil).

Support Palestinian resistance by donating to Palestine Action’s bail fund; buying an e-sim for distribution in Gaza; or donating to help a family leave Gaza.

Ingredients

180g (1 cup) pearled wheat (قمح مقشور / խոշոր ձաւար), soaked overnight

3 cups water

180-360g (a scant cup - 1 3/4 cup) sugar, or to taste

Honey or agave nectar (optional)

1 cup total diced dried apricots, prunes, golden raisins, dried figs

1 cup total chopped walnuts, almonds, pistachios

1 tsp rosewater (optional)

Ceylon cinnamon (դարչին) or cassia cinnamon (կասիա)

Aniseed (անիսոն) (optional)

Large pinch of salt

Pomegranate seeds, to top (optional)

A Palestinian version of this dish may add pine nuts and ground fennel.

Pearled wheat is whole wheat berry that has gone through a "pearling" process to remove the bran. It can be found sold as "pearled wheat" or "haleem wheat" in a halal grocery store, or a store specializing in South Asian produce.

Amounts of sugar called for in Armenian recipes range from none (honey is stirred into the dish after cooking) to twice the amount of wheat by weight. If you want to add less sugar than is called for here, cook down to a thicker consistency than called for (as the sugar will not be able to thicken the pudding as much).

Instructions

1. Submerge wheat in water and scrub between your hands to clean and remove excess starch. Drain and cover by a couple inches with hot water. Cover and leave overnight.

2. Drain wheat and add to a large pot. Add water to cover and simmer for about 30 minutes until softened, stirring and adding more hot water as necessary.

Wheat before cooking

Wheat after cooking

3. Add dried fruit, sugar, salt, and spices and simmer for another 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until wheat is very tender. Add water as necessary; the pudding should be relatively thin, but still able to coat the back of a spoon.

4. Remove from heat and stir in rosewater and honey. Ladle pudding into individual serving bowls and let cool in the refrigerator. Serve cold decorated with nuts and pomegranate seeds.

#the last link is a different / new fundraiser #Armenian #Palestinian #fusion #wheat berries #pearled wheats #pomegranate #prunes #dried apricot #dates #long post /

[heartfullofleeches]

Perfectly Sweet

Yandere Candy Harem + Gender Neutral Candy Witch Reader

Word Count: 10.7k

Summary: After a tragic incident resulting in the loss of your bakery, you awake in a land of sweets desperately searching for a way to return to a time and place that has abandoned you.

Warnings: Light body horror, [candy] cannibalism, hallucinations

A/N: A piece A few months in the makings. I hope you all enjoy :)

-

There once was a witch.

The first of her kind.

“A candy witch? What a silly idea!” 

 She was sure to disagree. 

“It’s my magic. Shouldn’t I have a say in its use? If I can’t do for myself first, I haven’t the heart to do a thing for anyone at all!” 

The witchling was the youngest in a lineage of powerful witches dating back to the founding days of their cozy little town. Her mother was the town healer in her prime and her mother’s great-grandmother fertilized the ground for which their town was built upon. The little witch had big shoes to fill, but neither fret nor shied away from what fate had decided. No – she outright rejected it, and sought to fill her dreams and goals much closer to home - right in the pit of her bottomless stomach. 

If the girl had one claim to fame before her prime, it had to be her enormous sweet tooth. She started her days with two spoonfuls of sugar, and three more by noon. She was not tied to the restriction of the human diet and did as she pleased to satisfy her endless craving. 

“Even tragedy can be sweet if it’s paired with the right treat.” – A saying she swore to remain true to, but behind closed doors the little witch could not carry her own words to heart. As the days of her coronation drew near, she became aware of the whispers around town – how self and cruel she was for abandoning tradition and her people. The kind faces she’d known all her years slowly turned spiteful and bitter – spurning her ambitions, and her turning her back on the community that raised her. The young witch wore a brave face, but behind closed doors she was not as bold as she seemed. She cried and cried, swallowing sugar and honey to ease her pain.

Due to constant ridicule and mockery, the little witch would have given up on everything had it not been for that one person.

On the eve of a new moon, there was a knock at her window. The young child of the town baker came to her with a task capable for her talents alone. With an influx of orders their parents had forgotten to bake a cake for their child’s birthday. Used to the treatment they did not wish to go another year without celebration and fled in the dead of night to the only source who could aid in their troubling times. 

The little witch could hardly hide her annoyance. Lack of a party was one thing, but no celebratory desserts to make up for it? No cake? Pie? Not even sweet bread? What fools the human had the misfortune of calling their parents. Could their kind do nothing without the help of hers? 

Against her own volition, she acted from the kindest of her heart and sought to fulfill their desperate plea. The little witch brought the young baker into her home, and through the night the two created the most extravagant birthday cake the baker nor anyone in town had ever seen. The excitement they expressed wasn’t held by them alone. The little witch had more fun baking with them than she ever had with a member of her blood. The gratitude and joy on the human’s face was something she had never seen before. Something strange. It made her feel odd. They must have slipped poison into her dish, but even that didn’t seem right. 

They treated her as a lifelong friend though their alliance began that very night where it should have ended. Being with that human gave her a toothache unlike any sugary treat could. As their bond grew, the witch would gradually learn that what she tasted that fateful eve was the start of something true. That human cracked the icy cage sheltering her fragile heart and woke her to new desires. 

She wanted to see them smile again. She wanted to make others happy in hopes it’d give her that same strange feeling in her stomach again. She’d never feel that exact  spark from anyone besides her new found friend, but the warmth in her chest was powerful to keep her newfound goals onward. 

The little witch and the baker’s child were inseparable from that day on. The pair grew as one - perfecting the recipes passed down to the young baker and adding a few of their own to the mix. They shared their creations with the town to prove the witch’s dreams were true as any other. Many still opposed, but they could not turn a blind eye to the duo’s efforts. The day of her awakening came and the young witch remained true to her heart – supported by her dearest friend who created an entire buffet of sweets to celebrate their second happiest day together.

Balancing magic and her culinary skills, the then adult witch unlocked feats far beyond that of her ancestors. A witch’s heart was their most powerful tool, and hers was filled with the love she held for sweets, her town, and the baker who changed everything for her. They flourished right alongside her into a kind, strong hearted individual, and later took over their parents' bakery as was tradition in their family. Just as she owed her success to them, they could do little without the aid of their favorite witch and invited her to take ownership with them. She’d be a fool to refuse their offer.

Perfecting her craft in all corners, the witch discovered what wonders her sweets could truly possess with a sprinkle of magic – some more groundbreaking than others, but nonetheless spectacular. Cupcakes that turn hair the same color as their frosting. Hard candies that could cure most illnesses. Cookies that would grant the eater’s truest wish with a single bite. She created an entire house made of sugar and sweetness for her and her dearest friend to live in. The townspeople who relied on the witch’s magic were amazed by the fruit of her hard labor, and the baker couldn’t be prouder which made the witch happier beyond compare. They noticed how hard she worked and only wished there was more they could do for her. The demands of the people piled in by the day, and though she wore a smile everyday they could see the cracks. The witch merely laughed off their worries, and carried on as usual. 

She was happy. They were happy. Everyone in the whole town was happy – but the happy days wouldn’t last forever unless the baker did something to aid the woman they loved. 

Rumors floated around town of normal humans becoming powerful witches over time. They say it only took a brave heart, a dedicated mind, and a wish. What people didn’t was that there was a fourth element involved. The second most important in a witch’s survival.

A strong body.

The baker pleaded with the witch to allow them to learn magic beside her. She had never been able to say no to them. The baker was a natural. Once she deemed them ready to practice, the human would master spells even she had difficulty with. It was no surprise to her considering their passions were one in the same, and if anyone was truer to their ambitions than her it was them. Together, the two were unstoppable. Untouchable. They worked off each other’s weaknesses and knew the other better than they knew themselves.

Which is why the witch was the first to notice. 

It began with a cough. The weather had grown quite chilly so neither thought much of it. A few of the witch’s homemade remedies and they felt good as new. Then - they began sleeping in. They went under spells of fatigue from the littlest tasks. Soon enough, they couldn’t even hold a spoon. 

The witch tried every spell in the book to save them. She took on the manning the shop alone so they were able to rest. It was the loneliest she had felt in years, but she’d do anything to save the human she loved. In the end, it was all for nothing. 

They died in their sleep while she was away from home – fulfilling the wishes of others while hers died alone at home.

The witch did everything she could.

She cried.

She begged.

She ate till her stomach felt like it was going to burst. 

To ease the pain, to bring them back - but even she could not raise the dead.

The cookies she shoved down her throat tasted bland and stale. Nothing was sweeter than the kisses the baker placed to her cheek every morning. She never got to tell them. She never had the chance to express her true feelings.

The witch screamed. 

Tore her hair out and cursed whatever horrible force that bound her to this fate. Made her weak. 

Please….

She cried over and over. 

Take me instead.

Don’t leave me here all alone.

 I can’t do this without you.

You said you’d never leave me.

Why?...

Please…

DON’T LEAVE ME! 

The townspeople gave her time to grief. It was the only mercy they gave. The knocking began. Their whispers slipped beneath her door. They asked her for more. She’d given them everything. Her heart, her love, her sweet, foolish baker- yet they still wanted more.

Selfish.

Greedy.

Cruel.

That’s all their kind had ever been. They took and took until there was nothing left. No… There was still one thing. She wasn’t going to let them take the shattered pieces. She refused to let them walk over her as they had trampled those before her. She’d take back everything they stole and more. She’d create a world catered to her desires. A place made of cinnamon and sugar, with subjects molded from the same ingredients and just as sweet. Creations who’d love and obey her for the rest of eternity. What the witch didn’t know…

Was they’d betray her worst of all. 

.

.

.

“Alright…. I think that’s enough for one year….”

“Awww.. but we nearly reached the end this time, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but – are you really sure this is something you want to hear on your birthday? It’s a pretty tale…” 

“Of course! I want to know everything about you, Sweets. Even old fairy tales in older, duster cookbooks.” 

“Hahaha, Fine….. Stay with me another year and we’ll finish it – I promise.”

“Better wish real hard then…. Who knows how many we have left.” 

.

.

.

“Help me…..”

.

.

.

“Help!” 

Smoke pads your lungs. Hands – hardened and calloused from years of labor pound and claw pathetically against solid wood. In lighter years, visitors would joke it’d take a stampede to tear down the door of your bakery. Fresh tears sting your wet eyes at the painful resurgence of memory. You press your apron tighter over your mouth and nose - sucking what precious oxygen remains as you prepare for what may be your last plea.

"Please, help me! I didn't do it!"

You know they can hear you. Over the crackling pops of roaring flames and the walls caving in around, your voice reigns louder than all. You hear their chants grow louder to drown you out. Accusations of a crime you'd lay your own life before than commit.

"I didn't hurt them! I'd never hurt them…. They were all I had. Please don't do this to us!..... At least let me say goodbye…."

Their chorus continues. Doubt seeps into the shouts of many at your desperate cries, but their verdict remains the same. 

witch….

Witch….

WITCH. 

There's no use. None of them will change their mind. If anyone tries to help you now they'll surely be tied to the same fate. Blinking away tears and the burn from your eyes with one final look at those who had forsaken you, you turn on your heels - rushing back into the flames devouring everything you once knew and loved. There had to be another way out. Every entrance had been board up, but… the windows-

Acting swiftly, you hurry into the kitchen - swiping the satchel used for your deliveries from its hook right before the entire rack is brought down by falling degree.You move as fast as your feet would carry - quickly grabbing everything that wasn't nailed to the floor and small enough to not weigh you down. Jars. Tools. Bottles. Anything to help you restart elsewhere, and remind you what you once had - no matter how much it hurts. 

Stuffing towels and broken dreams into your bag, the growing strain on your shoulder tells you enough is enough. Only one more thing left to grab. Your legs wobble as you approach the counter. Rubble and ash fall around you as you reach out. It's still open to that page. There's dough and flour beneath your nails - same as when you were kids just playing around in the kitchen. You swore they loved those cookies more than your friendship. Still you made them every year-

The batch of freshly made treats sits right beside it - packed away in that star shaped tent saved just for their special day. You were just about to make the frosting when they came. When the news was broken to you in the most ways. You barely had the chance to process it all before they started pointing fingers. All the ingredients are right there. All the memories. All the pain. You realize now there is no escape from this - not here. 

You pick a cookie from the tent - your entire world crumbling around you as you raise your hand to your mouth. Flames lick the ceiling as you take a bite.

Please… take me far away from here. 

A loud snap re-alerts you to your surroundings. A small groan is all that warns of what to come. All at once, the floor beneath you caves in. Feeling the ground disappear from under your feet, your arms instinctively reach for the book on the counter as you plummet. Falling with increasing speed, you clutch the book to your chest as the world above is swallowed by the darkness blanketing your weightless body - a silent scream cast into the void. Smoldering wood joins you as the ceiling to your baker and home finally collapses under the pressure. The last thing you see before your body hits solid ground is the same starless night you've fallen asleep beneath your whole life. .

.

.

"Mmm, so good. These are your best yet!"

"That's what you always say-"

"Because your treats just keep getting better and better. You're amazing, Sweets!" 

"You know, I never figured out why you call me that."

"Isn't it obvious? You make the best desserts in the whole world! Way better than mama's - I swear it's like she mixed up the sugar jar with the salt one." 

"Haha, I guess that makes a little sense-" 

"But - there is one other reason… " 

"What is it?"

"I think that's pretty obvious too…You're the sweetest person I've ever met."

 .

.

.

"Mm…. Ngh…"

Your head feels like it's split in two. You can't move - every limb stiff as stone. Darkness still surrounds you. Even breathing is a labored task that siphons all your strength for a single breath. Breathing…

You open your eyes - clamping them almost immediately as bright light beads down into them - assaulting your shot sense with its rays.

"Ach.." Steadying the air flow through your chest, you wiggle your fingers and toes - channeling circulation to the rest of your extremities as your heels and fingertips dig at soft earth. Rolling onto your side, you push yourself off the ground and upright; the weight of your satchel hindering your movement. You blink a few times to let your eyes adjust to the environment, rubbing at the sore joints in your neck. 

"What… happened?"

As soon as the words leave your mouth it all rushed back to you. The fire. The fall. Your eyes dart around, perplexed by the lack of ash and dirt walls around you. Grass scratches your bare legs as you pull them to your chest. The sun's harsh rays beat down on you from above. Tree leaves rustle in the strangely syrupy scented wind. Footsteps imprint in the soft earth - trailing away from where you lie. Did… someone save you? Something feels off. You draw a hand to your face; the freedom of your arms alerting your senses to a troubling particument - more troubling than the one you've found yourself in now. 

Your book. Where is it?

Where is it. Where is it. 

The strength in your limbs replenishes at such speeds it gives you a headrush as you spring to your knees. You sweep your hands across the dirt floor around you, searching the barren land around you before you lose your mind wandering through the forest. Dirt catches beneath your nails as they scratch at the soft earth. The texture of the soil - it doesn't feel right. It squishes between your fingers, rich and moist like it is after fresh rainfall, but there hasn't been rain in weeks nor does the scent of rain linger in the air. All that resides is that sweet stench. A whiff of cocoa passes in the gentle breeze as you wipe sweat from your forehead. 

Your legs fold beneath you like a stack of cards as you attempt to stand. Using a nearby tree as a crutch, you pull yourself to your feet - stumbling on wobbling knees and driving your shoulder into the bark of the tree as you fall against it. A nut wrestles free of its branch from the force and lands directly on your head.

"Ouch!" You rub the sore spot of your skull, looking down and drawing your foot to vent your frustration on the pour seedling-

"Huh?" 

You plant both feet steady on the ground. Where what should have been a seed sits a bright red candy wrapper nestled safely in the grass. Curious, you pick it up- inspecting the foil casing. There's nothing of note besides a star pattern printed right where the seams meet. You wedge your nail beneath the fold, peeling back the wrapper to reveal a piece of candy with a similar crimson color to its outer layer. It fits between your fingers no bigger than a small apple. Drool dampens your lips as your image shines in its reflection. You hadn't had a single thing to eat since breakfast and even then you only ate enough to last you for the period rather than the long day of work ahead of you. Popping the candy into your mouth, you bite down without a second thought. 

Solid and firm on the outside, the candy bursts like the gooey filling of warm pie filling under the pressure of your teeth. Nutmeg and cinnamon overwrite your senses of taste and smell, followed swiftly by the taste of baked apple coated in a sugary glaze. It's been a while since someone has asked you to make an apple pie. For a moment, you think of making one when you return home before it hits you have no home to go back to. You're not even sure where it once stood. It's clear by now you are not where home used to be. Then where are you?

Snap!

Collecting - a twig snaps somewhere off behind you. You turn your head in the direction of the sound. "Hello?"

No one answers your call. Without making a sound, a figure steps out into the tree lining. Lanky and bent at an odd angle; standing just enough into the shade and bushes all you could see was below their chin. Their skin is an odd shade of pink; likeness akin to freshly chewed bubblegum. Couldn't be a sunburn, but you chalk it up to be a trick of the sun. A bright red bow wraps tightly around their neck, poking out from the collar of the puffy sleeve white shirt they wore beneath a striped, chestnut colored vest. 

"Hello….." 

Their voice was low in pitch and wet - revoltingly sweet and syrupy thick just like the air; almost drowning in their chest as they spoke.You swallow your nerves as you pose your dry lips to speak. "Excuse me, but I think I'm lost…. Have… have you seen a book anywhere?"

The figure tilts their head, twin, bright pink pig tails dangling from the sides of their head - drooping over their shoulders like melting wax. Even the angle of their neck is off. How can it bend at that sharply?

"Would you…. like some taffy?" 

You quickly toss the half-eaten fruit in your age as you take a step back. "I think sugar is the last thing I need right now-"

The figure stills for a moment - calculating their next words carefully. 

"Would you… like some taffy?~" 

A tiny giggle erupts from their chest. "No, I already said that. Look, I really need to-"

"Are you looking for this?..." 

The stranger pulls a rectangular item from the bushes - aged leather cover barely intact with its spine. You notice that two fingers on their left hand appear to be stuck together, pinky finger nowhere to be seen. Cautiously, you take a step forward, extending a hand. 

"Yes… That's exactly what I'm looking for..  May I please have it?

"I'll give it to you if you do something for me…"

"Please, it's very important."

"It's been so long since I've had company… it won't take too much off your time"

You chew at your lips. "What do you need me to do?"

"Come closer…I just want to get a good look at you. You're so pretty from afar"

You take a step forward. Just grab the book and run.

"Closer…"

Another. 

"closer." 

You stand right in front of them. You make a grab for your book, but their reflexes are quicker. The figure grabs you, locking you to their chest in an iron tight grip. Their head rests on your shoulder as they stroke their longer fingers down the length of your back - humming with a softness foreign to their tone before then. You bring your arms up to hug them back. It's then, at a close proximity, you're able to see the large chunk of flesh ripped from their neck.

"Thank you…." 

Thin digits run up your arm and face, stroking the line of your bottom lip as they giggle softly. You cringe as a hand latches onto your chin - prying your mouth open.

"Now, eat up~"

Before you have time to react, the creature shoves two of its fingers into your mouth - palm slamming into your chin and locking your jaws around their skin. Opening your eyes, you're met with the swirling insanity of their orbs as your teeth sink into their flesh. Spiraling red and white irises like the swirls in peppermint candies. Their lips seem to almost be melting together - a small hole torn through the outer wall of their left cheek. Crimson blush paints their cheeks - an impossible wide smile reveals cherry red teeth.

You squirm and struggle with all your might - attempting to wrestle yourself from their grip, but their hold is too strong. Their skin melting against the heat of yours makes escape all the more distant. Your teeth slice through the meat of their fingers like hot butter as you're forced to bite down. Their skin doesn't break like normal flesh. Queasiness hits your stomach like a rock as they're completely severed from seemingly non-existent bone. Even worse, you feel the severed digits inch their way towards the back of your throat. Tears prick your eyes as their flesh sticks to your teeth. You try to scrap it off with your tongue, only smearing it into your gums and against the roof of your mouth. Expecting the copper taste of blood - the flavor that bursts on your taste buds unlocks a core memory in your mind from your childhood. 

It's taffy. 

Cherry taffy.

You'd recognize that chewy taste and texture anywhere. The fiend notices the flicker of familiarity in your eyes as your muscles temporarily ease from the confusion. Their bizarre smile stretches as you chew at their flesh almost by reflex - swallowing them near whole. More fits of laughter bubble from their throat as a bubbling warm settles in your chest, spreading throughout.

"Tastes good, doesn't it? I knew you would like me once I saw that page in your book. Humans like candy after all..."

Your limbs lock up as they had when you woke as that warmth spreads throughout your body, creeping back up your throat and out your mouth in a tiny hiccup of laughter that has the taffy creature grinning from ear to ear. Your heart hammers against the shaking cage of your chest - laughter echoing from every corner of the forest. It's soon you realize the laughter is your own coupled with the fiend's cackling shrieks and the far off rattles of the trees.

"Your voice is so pretty… I like you..  I like you!.. Hey, you'll eat more of me, right? Candy is supposed to be eaten by humans. Are you listening?" 

You try - but everything that comes out of their mouth is so funny you can't hear a thing over your laughter.  What's happening? Lost in the swirling spirals of their eyes, the rawness of your throat barely registers in your weary mind as giggles are yanked and pulled from you. The convulsions in your stomach built into a deep ache in your abdomen. The tears in your lashes pour down your face - caught by a sticky tongue that leaves a trail of pink slick up your cheek. 

"Oh!- Giving me a treat? You're too kind… please don't cry… I'll let you rest for now. I'd hate for you to get sick… see you soon…." 

Your body falls back to that weightless, floating state. You can't tell if you're standing, fallen over, or something else entirely. The trees close around you - snuffing what little air passes through your chest. Your jaws hang slack as a hand reaches out from the horde. Your lips close around fluffy air as your vision fades to black out once more. 

.

.

.

"Ta-da!"

Fire snaps and pops within the confines of a handmade pit. In the flames, you see the two of you as children - piling books on top of chairs to steal the matchbox their parents hid in a cabinet too tall for either of you to reach. Where you excelled beyond your years elsewhere, they had always been a master at building the perfect campfire among other things. They were so proud of their skills. Crickets chirp and stars twinkle brilliantly in the pale blue night sky…

Stars?...

"One S'more hot off the stick - courtesy of your bestest friend in the whole wild world."

They take a bite out of theirs, gooey marshmallow fluff oozing from the crackers. They sport a toothy smile, burnt fluff sticking to their lips and teeth. They chipped a front tooth on a jawbreaker right after it had grown in when you were little - yet their smile is without imperfection. They lost the roundness in their face and shape the person next to you has as their condition got worse. While their body failed, their hair and skin never got that pale either - nor did they have horns. Short, stubby little horns peeking from fluffy white tufts of hair framing their chubby, freckled cheeks. It's not them, but at the same time your mind clicks the familiar pieces of a night similar to this and for you that's all it takes. The heat of the fire kisses away your tears. 

A bright blue blanket keeps you joined at the shoulder with them. Tiny yellow dots mirror the shining stars hanging over you. 

"Mmm… s'mores are so good… Hm? What's wrong? We can't all be talented bakers, I'm trying my best here. You look like you've seen a ghost!" 

Tightness grips at your chest. Despite their appearance, it's still their voice if not a bit softer than you recall. "Addie…. You…." 

Their smile falls - sad, tired eyes drooping behind heavy lids. Their voice mellows into a tranquil whisper of what it once was. If it weren't for the stress and the fact you were already dreaming you might've drifted off to sleep as they spoke. "I know…. I just wanted you to have a good dream… I like this place, but you shouldn't be here right now. Maybe someday in the near future you can show it to me again and we can talk more about this.. Addie person."  

"Who are you?"

"I'll tell you when we meet in person. Can you do me a favor when we do? I think my blanket fell off me, but I had such a nice time here with you I don't think I'll wake up anytime soon.. I'm a little cold now, so can you please tuck me back in?" 

"I'll… see what I can do."

"Thank you. I hope we can become closer the more we see each other. It's nice to have someone to dream with. You really should wake up soon…" 

Their fingers intertwine with yours, placing the S'more in your open palm.

"But it doesn't hurt to dream just a little longer." 

You take a bite. Charred fluff explodes from between the crackers and onto your tongue. You always had to stop them from turning your marshmallows to near ash as they preferred theirs. You chew slower to savor the taste as their head rests on your arm. You close your eyes - letting everything melt in.

The taste of burnt marshmallow. 

The chilly night air.

Them.

You chew and chew - opening your eyes to find yourself right back where you once were. Stickiness clings to your lips. They feel a bit chalky too. You scrap it off with your nails, wiping marshmallow fluff onto your stained apron. 

Your book sits a few inches in front of you in the dirt. You pick it up and inspect it from to back, checking each page to make sure everything is still there. There are pink fingerprints on a page detailing a recipe for hand pulled taffy. They curve into the arches of a heart at the bottom of the paper.

Riiing. 

Riiing. 

Somewhere off in the distance - a bell chimes. The instrument falls from the wielder's hand to their hip as they watch you. The bill of what looks to be a mailman's cap blocks you from direct eye contact or even a glimpse at their face. A satchel of better quality than yours hangs at their side - what looks to be a chalkboard dangling from their neck. 

After the last encounter, you're hesitant to speak to anyone you meet in this place, but you have no choice. "H…hello?

Same as with the other once, there's no response at first. The figure takes hold of the board around their neck, dragging their fingers along its surface. They turn the board to you - an arrow pointing to their left. As if to further get their point across, they raise a hand in the same direction. Each of their fingers appears to be a different color. Yellow. Pink. Blue. Green. Orange. They tip their hat at you before spinning on their heels and heading the opposite way.

"Wait!" You toss your book into your bag as you stand - giving chase as they dart around a tree. Wind nips at your exposed flesh as you sprint after them. By the time you reach where they once stood they're already leagues ahead of you. Sharp turns drive a deeper wedge in your distance from them. The faint jingle of their bell grows further and further away the closer you get - your voice drowning out its final chime. 

"Please - wait! I don't know where I am. I just want to go home. Where are you trying to send me? Please, I need your - wahh!"

Eyes straight ahead, you completely overlook the obstacle in your path until it sweeps the air from beneath you. You fall forward as your ankle connects with something hard jutting out of the earth. You throw your arms out to cushion your landing as your body is cruelly shoved into the dirt by gravity. 

"Ow…." Flipping yourself over, you lift up your apron to check the damage to your stinging right leg. The pants leg itself is torn, but your leg looks to be relatively okay besides the start of a bruise. Looking closer - green spots stain the fabric of your slacks around the mouth of the tear in them.  You glance over at the cause of your tumble - blood chilling in your veins. 

Sprawled across the forest floor was an entire human skeleton encased in some greenish, gel-like mass. Its hollow eye sockets gaze apathetically at nothing; arms curled to its chest. They stare straight through you and your shivering self feet away. The sludge that surrounds it almost fits perfectly to its thin frame, but there are some outliers in its shape. Two circular mounts sit atop its head like the ears of some animal. The gel bunches around their arms and neck like the sleeves and hood of a jacket. It seems to mimic both skin and clothing. You swallow the scream in your throat and use the energy to kick yourself off the ground as you flee - stopping dead in your tracks as a tiny voice calls out.

"Please don't go…." 

A tiny sniffle sounds from the body behind you. Its chest rises and falls slowly as its head tilts up to look at you. You freeze - stiff as a board. 

"I'm… not going to hurt you if that's what you're afraid of. I can't do anything really right now. I can't move.. It's getting darker… I just want to go home…" 

Their words strike a chord with you. Against every muscle screaming otherwise, you turn to face them again. "What… are you?"

"My name is Gumi… I'm a boy - if you were wondering. Like most of the things you've probably seen by now, I'm made out of candy. Could you please just stay here until my sister comes? She can help fix me and we can take you back to town. The forest is pretty large though, and I can't remember where I am so I don't know how long it will take her to find us." 

"Gumi…. I'm sorry, you have to understand how crazy this is for me… Let me help you sit up." You walk over to the candy body - scooping your arms beneath his and dragging him over to a nearby rock. Your fingers sink into his squishy flesh as you help him sit upright. Despite being made of sweets, he definitely had the weight of a human being. It's hard for him to sit up all the way - possibly due to the empty space in his abdomen leaving little support for his gummy flesh. There's a red misshapen mark in his chest where a heart would be, the organ obscured by the walls of candy around it.

"Thank you… What's your name?"

You glance at the ground. "Just… call me Sweets."

"Sweets…." Gumi parrots, "That's a nice name.."

"What happened to you?"

Gumi weakly pulls his arms tighter to his chest. "My spine… was taken. There's someone like me out here - a candy person, I mean. Their body can't hold a solid form, so they steal from other people in exchange for things to eat to keep it." 

You place your bag on the ground, kneeling as you search through it. All of this is giving you a headache, but you can't just leave him out here after being stuck for so long. "What do they normally eat?"

"Anything that will help them, really. Sugar, syrup, jam- but there's been talk of them drinking hu-"

Jam. Thank heavens you switched to plastic jars as soon as you were able to get your hands on some. "I have something I can trade. Can you tell me which direction they're in?" 

"W-what?!" Gumi's soft body tenses - falling forward into your arms. "No, it's too dangerous! I don't want anyone to get hurt because of me! Especially not someone who's been nice to me so far…." 

You place a hand on his back, guiding him back against the stone. "Like you said, it's getting darker and we don't know when your sister will find you. I'm sure we can come to an agreement with them. Not to brag, but I'm kind of the best - and only baker in my hometown."

"I…but-..." Gumi trips over his words- searching for a rebuttal, but finding nothing. He sighs. "Okay…. But take my head with you. If anything happens I can distract them long enough for you to get away…"

"Won't that..hurt?.." 

"No…. I'm sitting here without a spine, aren't I? It is pretty gross in my opinion, but my bones can be pulled apart and snapped back together easy. Watch." Gumi places both hands on the sides of his skull, twisting his head and the bones attaching it to his shoulder until it's loose enough to pop right off. His headless body passes his head off to you as it smiles meekly. 

"Creep… I know."

You gently take his head from his hands. "After the day I've had, I'd hardly consider this the worst part. If you ask me, I think it's kind of cool."

"C…cool?" Red bleeds from the center of his face all the way to the ears atop his head.

"Are you okay?" 

"Y-yeah… Nobody, besides my sister and a few others, have ever been this kind to me… The cave they live in is that way."

His body points in the same direction his eyes do. You move his head into one arm as you reach into your satchel. You pull out your book and tuck wit beneath your other arm as you remove your apron. You stuff it into your bag and place his head instead. 

"Is this comfortable for you? I'd hate to trip over something else and accidentally drop you.."

"Yes, but - could you please carry me in your arms. I-if I'm not too heavy of course. Humans have soft skin…. Was that weird to say?"

"I don't think so. I'll gladly carry you, but we should get going now. Can your body watch my book for me until we get back? It's important to me and I'd hate for it to get more damaged than it already is. It's pretty old considering it's a family heirloom" 

His voice softens. "You really trust me with something that special to you?..." 

You smile. "You haven't given me a reason not to." 

"okay…. O-Okay! I'll guard it with my life then." He holds out his hands and you set the book in them - leaving it in his possession. His body hugs it to his chest, waving as you and his head walk off.

-

Walking towards the cave, the silence gets to you before long. "So… you have a sister?"

Gumi looks up at you from the corners of his sockets. "Yeah… a little sister - we think. Her name is Lollie. We aren't actually related, but it's nice to have that bond. She has a bit of a temper, but she sticks up for me and I try to keep her out of trouble."

"That's so sweet… Can you tell me a bit about the town you guys live in?"

"There's not much to say about it..  It's all we've really ever known after watching up one day and finding each other before being picked up by the others. Chip repairs us the best he can when any of us breaks. Kreme makes clothes for those who wear them and made me and Lollie matching bracelets for our birthday. Valentine makes deliveries to everyone and collects things we need from the forest. There are others in town, but a few I don't see often and the rest are… not the kindest"

"Deliveries… I saw someone with a bell and a carrier satchel earlier. Could that be them?"

"Probably… Val can't speak so they carry a bell and their chalk board to communicate with people… We're here…" 

Leaves crunch beneath your feet as you stop before the gaping mouth of a cave. The dampness of the opening rolls off in waves, fanning your face like a dying breath. You catch the scent of artificial strawberries as you readjust Gumi in your arms.

"Well… no time like the present." Breathing in, you take your first step inside the cave. Your steps echo down the narrow passageway as you traverse deeper into the hollow den. Darkness envelops you, but it no longer holds control over you with company - sparkling stalagmites soon brightening the dim path. You chip off a piece of the jagged crystals as you pass by and stick your tongue against the flat surface. Rock candy- grape flavor to be exact. 

The tight walls of the cave open into a room fully illuminated by glowing rock candy. A pool of crimson awaits in the room's center - a deep chuckle bubbling from its murky depths.

"Well, well - you sure took your time, but since you've brought a new face I'll let it slide this time." 

Gumi shakes in your arms. Feeling your hold strength, he swallows his nerves as he speaks. "M, please give back my spine. We'd like to make a trade with you."

"Yes, yes - we've played this little game many times before with that sister of yours.. Allow me to slip into something more… comfortable." 

A hand shoots out from the pool, smacking down on the stone floor with a wet crack. Along with the hands forms an arm - weaving into shape by use of the syrupy fluid it bathes the. It drags itself from the vicious sea of red - pulling the tides along with it. A lower half of a head emerges from the pit, waters depleting as its torso and left arm take shape. You watch as the fluids snake around the stolen spine as the empty space of their chest closes to form mostly smooth skin. Their flesh drips and hangs at their fingertips, right shoulder hanging lower than the left as they crawl their way out and stand up right. Their head finally morphs to shape to the best of its capabilities with what little fluid it has left to work with - the entire left half of their face from eye to jaw missing. 

"That's… a little better. Excuse me for taking so much of your time, but I am almost ready."

There's a slight limp in their stride as they saunter  over behind a curtain of sharp rocks. The slip of fabric meets your ears as they hum to themselves - image reflected on the wall behind them. You see as they slide an arm through the sleeves of a shirt, buttoning it up to the second to last collar. They place a cap atop their head as they step back out to greet you -heeling clicking sharply against the hard floor. 

The figure wears what was once a white nursing coat and hat. Red hand prints dart the entire length of the garb down to where it hangs just above their knee. It rises to mid-thigh with every step they take. They pin a name tag to their chest as they stand before you - red blocking out every letter of the name that was once there besides one.

M. 

M sighs. "Ha… Much better. I do pray my appearance doesn't alarm you much, but considering you are carrying the head of this whiny little creature I'm sure my looks hardly bother you. Maybe..  interesting you perhaps, hm?"

You nervously chuckle. "About the trade…." 

They clap their hands together. "Ah yes- It is one I am quite excited for. It's been so long since I've had a nice cup of red wine. I'll be needing a sample to decide how much of you is worth trading the only useful part that boy in your arms has." 

"I… have something else in mind." Reaching into your bad, you pull out a freshly made jar of jam made the night before in preparation for a cake someone had ordered. You shake the jar lightly. "Do you take raspberry?

M folds their arms over their chest. "I guess we'll just have to see." They snatch the jar from you and twist off its lid, inserting their index finger inside. They spread the jam over their middle finger and thumb - eyeing it closely as they shove their fingers past their lips.

"Hm…."

They take another taste.

"Mmm…."

And another - this time dipping their entire palm into the jar and shoveling the jam into their mouth.

"This…  is good…I've never had anything this good in ages." M sucks the jam from each finger before pointing at you. "You! - Tell me you have more of this…. Heavenly concoction."

"I don't… but if you promise to give Gumi's spine back and never take it from him again then maybe I'll find a way to make more for you before I leave." 

"Deal!" M takes one of your hands and shakes it vigorously as confirmation of your contract. They reach into their chest, ripping out Gumi's spine and passing it off to you. Once their deed is done, they pour what remains of the jam down their throat - tapping the bottom of the jar and licking its walls to get every drop. The left half of their face fills out as they chew; straight locks of hair flowing from beneath their cap and stopping at their neck.

"I await our next encounter, my dear. As a token of my appreciation, you may come back even without your delicious jams as it does get rather lonely all the way out here by myself. I'd like to keep this container as a reminder of our first meeting. Until we see each other again, my sweet little friend. Thank you for the meal - and dessert.

M sweeps a finger across your cheek, catching the drying blood from a cut you must've gotten from one of your many falls. It's a surprise that it and the bruise on your leg is all the damage you've gotten so far. They place their thumb into their mouth with a small hum of satisfaction - winking as they turn away.

"Come by soon~"

You walk out of the cave with Gumi's spine and head in hand. "That was…interesting.."

"I'm just glad neither of us got hurt.. Let's get back to my body before… oh… oh no….. no no no no. 

Your emotions conflict between confusion and terror - an imperfect balance of the two. "What? What's wrong?"

"We have to get back - now."

Racing through the trees, the commotion sounds before you even see it.

"Come on, lemme read it - Lemme read it! Is it your journal? Your diary? I wanna see, I wanna see!"

Gumi's headless body narrowly avoids the swing of a sledgehammer wielded by a girl nearly two size smaller than the weapon she holds. As she throws it back over her shoulder, the hammer end of the tool is revealed to be a giant, lollipop the same glossy pink as her skin. She chases after Gumi's body as it attempts to crawl away - skipping after him as if playing a leisurely game of tag. As she makes another grab for your book - Gumi shouts.

"Lollie! Cut it out! The book isn't mine! It belongs to Sweets!" 

The girl snaps her head in your direction - stomping her feet excitedly in place before sprinting straight at you. 

"Gummy-worm!"

Lollie plucks her brother's head from your grasp, spinning in circles as she giggles. She hugs him close, pressing her hard cheek against his. "Where have you been?! I've been looking for you all over and here you are with some human. Don't think I won't tell Jaws about you hanging out with fleshies again. She's still pretty pissed about what the last one did to her, y'know."

Gumi groans, his body dragging itself across the ground to return your book to you. You take a knee as you take it from him - patting his arm as a token of your gratitude. "Please don't call me that in front of them.. They're nothing like the last one, or any of the humans that we've met recently." 

"I would find that hard to believe…. If they weren't holding your spine. If Bloody steals your parts one more time I'm gonna-" She exhales. "Well, you know what I'll do." She faces you. "HI. I'm Lollie, Gumi's sister, but I'm sure he's already told you all about me."

You nod. "He's told me a few things. You can call me Sweets."

"Sweets… Cute~ Normally I'd chase you all the way to the ocean, buuuut since you help my brother and you have a cute name I'll help you out as well. Let's get Wormy here back in one piece and we'll take you back to town."

With Lollie's aid, you reattach Gumi's head and arm. Standing on his feet, the boy sheepishly rubs at his arm. "Can… Can I hug you? It felt nice to be held by you…" 

"Of course." Pulling him in, the two of you share a brief hug before you're ripped away by Lollie who holds onto your hand tightly. Gumi could've gone another hour in your arms. He accepts his loss and takes your other hand as Lollie attempts to drag you both along.

"Come on, come on - we gotta get there before everyone turns in for the night!" 

Together, the twins guide you through the forest back to their home. Walking with them, you finally take pause to look at the world around you. With everything going on, you never stopped to notice it all. Cotton candy bushes. Lollipop flowers. The bark of the trees surrounding you reveal themselves to be made of some mass of woven candy strings. The soft earth beneath you becomes solid as you step down on hard, stone bricks. 

Gumi speaks up. "Do you think anyone is around? 

Bright lights and friendly chatter answers his questions for you all. A small crowd of people stand at the entrance of the town - conversing amongst each other as one, familiar face scouts out the brick road. They grab the bell from their belt, giving it a hard shake. 

As you approach, a lone figure departs from the pack. They wear a burgundy apron, longer than your own as it drapes at their ankles, and carry with them a wooden blood. Their skin and braided hair remind you of unbaked dough - large, brown spots sprinkled through their person. 

"Welcome home, you two. And to your new friend. My name is Chip, and it is a pleasure to meet you. You must be hungry after your journey. If we had more time to prepare, I would've made more, but I hope you enjoy stew."

As he holds out the bowl, the mail carrier creeps up from behind. A red heart marks the entirety of their face. They flip their board around for you to see as they cock their head to one side. 

"Welcome. :) (sorry for running off earlier.)" 

Lollie huffs. "Dang it, Val - you ruined our big surprise."

You smile faintly. "It's alright. My name is Sweets and while I appreciate the gesture, I think I've had enough candy for one day, Chip." 

Chip pushes the bowl into your hands. "Just take one bite - if you would be so kind."

Unable to refuse, you bring the bowl up to your lips - sampling the broth. Where you expect to be met with soda or some other sugary drink is instead the hearty taste of root vegetables and spices. Whatever your stance on vegetables was as a child meant nothing now. You open your mouth wider to allow the potatoes and carrots through, broth dripping from the corners of your lips as you greedily inhale the stew. You turn away to wipe your face as the filling meal settles in your stomach.

"Thank you… That was…."

"Real vegetables?"

"That… but also good. How do you-"

Chip laughs. "We have the means to grow foods fit for your kind here as well. Can't make a cake without milk and eggs, can you? We're able to grow normal fruits from the trees you've seen outside, but livestock are a little hard to come by. Had I known of your arrival I would've prepared one of the chickens or cows I tend to for you."

"This is more than enough. Thank you, again."

Wheels clack over the stone pathway as another town's person rushes forward - picking at your tattered and burned clothing as they skate around you. You catch glimpses of what look to be two donuts sprouting from the sides of their head like puffy, hair buns - decorated in blue icing and rainbow sprinkles. The large hole in their stomach peaks from beneath their crop top. They pull to a stop in front of you, hands placed to their hips as they look at all the stains on your apron. 

"Whoa! Your clothes are all burnt and torn up! Dirty too… I think I have some clothes in storage that'll fit you until I get the chance to patch them for you. My name is Kreme. Come by soon, kay?"

"Oh, um… okay!"

Kreme bows before zooming off down the empty streets presumably back to their place of work. The next to approach you wears fishnet leggings and a red bomber jacket. Wispy locks of bubble gum pink hair mask his eyes. His skin teeters on off white, but still holds that faint pink glow freshly chewed gum has. There are tiny bites taken out from his arms and hands. By the slight movement of his jaw something tells you those wounds may be self-inflicted. 

They bowl a bubble, popping it with their teeth. "Marina. Things can get pretty hectic around here. Ever need to relax, I could let you pass with a bite or two."

You raise your hands, doing your best to keep your smile from breaking. "I think I'm good."

"Your loss." Marina shrugs, spitting out the piece of himself and taking a fresh bite from his arm as he walks off.

"This is ridiculous..' 

The figure standing over by the welcoming sign finally speaks out. A sour candy belt wraps around their neck and head like a scarf. "LockJaw's never gonna allow another human to live here after what the last one did. We shouldn't even let them in the first place." 

Lollie blows a raspberry at them. "Malick, don't be such an ass. LockJaw may watch over us, but she isn't our boss." 

"Where is Lock by the way?"

Thud.

The ground quakes beneath you as a body crumples to it behind you. Cracks splinter the road around them - your teeth chattering from the heavy force of their landing. Spots of red, yellow, and blue pepper their paper white skin. Their right arm falls at your feet - detached from their body. A good portion of their torso is missing as well; both injuries revealing the layers of color overlapping like the rings of a chopped tree to make up the inner works of their body. You don't remember who's the first, but soon enough they all flock around them. Gumi shakes them roughly. 

"LockJaw? Lockjaw! What happened? C-can you hear us?" 

The body twitches - the fingers of their missing arm moving sporadically. 

Chip takes a knee beside him and gently pulls his hands off of her. "She'll be fine. We need to get her inside so I check her wounds. Sweets, I hate for this to be your first experience with us, but could you please grab LockJaw's arm and follow us? She is quite heavy compared to the rest of us, so we need all the hands we can get."

Nodding, you pick up LockJaw's arms as the others pick her up off the ground. Her face is a mostly smooth surface. No eyes, nose, or even lips - until her face is fully lifted off the ground. An eyes rolls sluggishly in its socket from the crater in the left side of her face - rainbow teeth clenched so tight you're afraid they might break as her eye falls on you.

"Human…. Leave." 

Chip throws her arm over his shoulder.  "Now isn't the time for that. Follow us, please." 

With Lollie holding her right side, Gumi and Marina supporting her from behind, and Malick behind them for extra support - you trail behind them as they all carry LockJaw into the nearest home which appears to be Chip's if the sign out front is anything to go by. They all lower her to the ground, stepping back as Chip inspects the brunt of her damages. Her single eye remains on you - unblinking. His lips press into a thin line as his expression darkens.

"I'm… afraid there isn't much I can do for her… Bandages won't fix injuries this severe… I'm sorry, Lock..."

"What?" Lollie shrieks. "There has to be something we can do!"

Her hand balls into a fist against your chest. You look around you, racking your brain for a solution. LockJaw… Jaws.. "Chip, do you have a stove, pot, water, and sugar? Maybe a rolling pin as well?" 

"Yes. Yes, I have all of those things. This way." Chip leads you into his kitchen. Grabbing a pot from the cupboard, he places it on the stuff as he searches around for the remainder of the items you asked him for. Once obtained, you pour water and sugar into the pot - stirring the mixture together before lighting the flame. Sweat drips from your face as it soon begins to bubble. You quickly remove it from the eye and hurry back to where LockJaw lays - pouring it slowly over the gaping hole in her chest. You rave between the kitchen and living room - preparing more pots of boiling sugar you pour over her. As the wound fills out and matches level with the rest of her skin, you take the rolling pin and roll it over the cooling final layer - evening it to make. You dip her right arm and its stump in the next batch - attaching the two and keeping her arm in place until you're sure the makeshift glue holds. You get up to make another to work on her face - a hand grabbing the tails of your apron as you rise. Even she seems surprised by her movements as she pulls her hand away - flexing her fingers.

"No… you've done enough… ugh…."

LockJaw climbs to her cheek, standing a head taller than you. Her eye still lingers on you as she's hugged from behind by Lollie.

"Jaws! You're okay! Didn't you say it's best for us to stay in numbers? Why do you get to go off on your own?!"

LockJaw pushes the smaller girl away. "Don't touch me."

The strength and mobility of her right arm still throws her off as Chip rejoins you. "LockJaw, I see you are well. I'm glad. Considering your recovery is most in part thanks to our new friend here, it wouldn't be a crime to let them stay for a little while, would it?"

LockJaw looks away. She cannot close her eye so it's the best she can do. "For now. The minute they cause trouble I want them gone." The jawbreaker woman squeezes past Malick and Gumi, walking out of the open front door.

"Woo-hoo!" Lollie throws her arms around her, beckoning her brother to join as she hugs who tightly who sheepishly complies. "Looks like you'll be staying with us for a while. You'll bunk with me and Gumi, right? We can go on all sorts of adventures together and get to know each other better-"

Chip cuts into the conversation. "While that does sound lovely, we will talk about their permanent board in the morning. There are some things I'd like to discuss with them before the night is over. I think it's best if everyone returns home for now."

"Aw…." Lollie sulks, yet abides to Chip's order. She drags Gumi along with her who calls out as he's pulled along-

"Bye, Sweets! It was really nice to meet you! You'll visit me…. Us! In the morning, r-right?"

You call back. "As soon as I wake up you'll be the first I see!"

Chip waits for everyone else to leave before he speaks again. He walks over to the front door and shuts it, turning the lock. "Sweets… I must confess that I lied before. I have fixed LockJaw and others to the best of my power in the past, but I know your aid was the only way she'd allow you to stay. Valentine told me about some of the things they saw in the book you possess. You are a baker, if I'm not mistaken?" 

"Yes… My shop was burned down by people I once called family. I fell through the floor and woke up here. This cookbook is all I have now."

Chip nods. "I am sorry for prying. It's just that even I am unable to do what you have done."

"What do you mean?"

"My fixes are… cosmetic at best. Sometimes, functions fail to return if a limb or other part is completely severed, or recovery takes a long time. You were able to repair LockJaw's arm and mobility to it in record time. I am unsure what this means, but either way you are welcome to stay with us until you are able to find your way home… If you ever want to return after what happened."

His final sentence hits you like a weighted brick. What will you do when you return home? It's not like you can go back to the town. Your survival will only prove their claims, but even then it's all you've ever known. You gaze outside the window- stars shining in the pale moonlight.

"Stars…." The word slips from your lips before you realize. Your eyes light up - hand placed against the glass. 

Chip laughs. “You've spent the day in a world made of candy, and yet it seems this amazes you more. Have you never seen them before?” 

“No…Not anywhere besides picture books at least. When I was little I used to collect little scraps of dough left over and shape them into stars to pass out to other kids around town… We made up a little game that if you ate one and wished just like you would on a real star all your dreams would come true… I think…. They’re why I’m here now.“ 

They would have loved this - and probably everything else in this world. That reminds you.. "Chip? There's someone I need to see. They had fluffy hair and short horns and they were wrapped in a blue blanket if I remember correctly. Do you know someone with that description?"

"I suppose you've met our little dreamer. Come with me."

Chip leads you outside and to a house with baby blue walls and white frosting decorating its borders. A blue star is printed on the front door. Chip knocks twice before it opens for you. You both enter and he guides you to a bedroom with marshmallow pillows littering the floor and a canopy bed at its heart. The figure from your dreams lays on their side - blankets covering only half their body and hands holding a white index card and blue pencil. You take the card from them and read it to yourself. It reads the name-

"Marlow." 

You pick up the covers and pull them over their shoulders, tucking them beneath their chin. "Marlow, thank you for waking me up earlier. I'd like to dream with you now, if that's alright with you."

Deep asleep, their lips curl upwards as their body moves to make room for you. You look towards Chip who wishes you goodnight with another nod - shutting the door behind him. You climb into bed with Marlow, an arm falling over your chest as you stare out the window - falling asleep beneath a blanket of stars for the first time in all your life. 

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere insert #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere oc #yandere harem #yandere imagine #yandere fic #yandere drabble #yandere writing #perfectly sweet

[readychilledwine]

Dying thinking about rhys literally pining and hardcore simping for reader, literally showering reader in praise, flattery and gifts because he no longer gives a damn about hiding his feelings, almost proposing to reader whenever he can and reader's just. completely clueless about it 💀 and she thinks it's just rhys being friendly. Poor man would be absolutely devastated when he goes one day "[name] i'm in love with you" and she just goes "me too, i love all my friends!"

Subtle

Summary - Rhys is ready to lay it all onto the table when he gets home from his time in captivity. He just hopes you're as ready as he is.

Warnings - fighting, drinking, inner circle board game night, implied smut

A/N - Cassian would absolutely dominate Risk. I almost felt guilty using it as my inspiration for the game night piece. This was fun to write. Definitely going to have to do some more in terms of family game night with the Inner Circle and my readers/ocs

Ps - gif is how I imagine Cassian and Azriel.

He promised himself when he came home from the mountain, he would court you. Truly court you. Gifts, dates, everything. 

The bond had snapped for him a few years before Amarantha took them all hostage, but you had just recently been saved from a temple, and he wanted to give you time to heal before he advanced. 

In the time you two spent together, he discovered you enjoyed similar things. During your time at the temple, you had begun to study the stars, the solar system, theories on the galaxy. He used that to his advantage, claiming he just wanted to meet with someone who shared his passion and hobby. 

You were welcomed into the Inner Circle as his head scholar within a year. There wasn't a single thing in that library you could not transcribe or find, and it proved to be quite helpful for the Shadowsinger and his studies of old court alliances and traditions and for Cassian as he began to study ancient warfare. 

You all sat at your first family dinner in 50 years, enjoying the free flowing wine, the light conversation. You were watching Rhys subtly, and he you. After dessert, he stood, walking over to you and offering you his hand before leaving to his office with you.

"About fucking time," Cassian mumbled under his breath, and the table nodded.

Rhysand sat you down in his office. "I missed you," he said gently. "I missed my time alone with you. Forgive me for pulling you away from our friends."

You shook your head, a smile settling on your face. "There's nothing to forgive. What did you want to talk about?"

It was too soon for him to say what he wanted, too soon to be this forward, so he decided to gently introduce you to his affections. "It doesn't matter what we talk about, y/n. I just want to be around you."

Over the next month, he took his time with you. He showered you with gifts ranging from jewelry to new books on the stars, to clothing. His touches when you two were alone became more intimate and lingering. 

You wrote it off as him introducing himself to touch with someone he trusted again, not believing Rhysand, the most attractive male fae in existence, would ever want you or find you beautiful.

He began dropping all subtleties two months into his new behavior. In front of the Inner Circle, an arm would go behind your shoulders. He'd play with your hair. He'd rest a hand on your knee or lower thigh. 

For tonight's family game night, you were in charge of picking the board game, and Rhys stood behind you as you looked over the countless shelves. "Azriel is off tomorrow," you recounted softly. "Amren is actually interested in playing." He watched your delicate finger move over to more complicated games. "But if I pick something too difficult Mor and Cassian will leave." Rhys admired you in affectionate silence still. "And you and I will bicker no matter what we play because," you turned him, one of the Inner Circles absolute favorite battle mapping and strategy games in hand. You deepened your voice, raising a perfect brow at him. "My name is Rhysand, I am the most intelligent high lord, and I can never be wrong." 

He smirked, almost truly purring like a pleased cat, as he replied. "Well, if you believe so, darling, and I believe so, it must be true." You could help but giggle, holding the game out to him. "We haven't played this in years, y/n." 

They had purchased it to teach you battle planning and rationing, not realizing it would soon become a game that your teams 3 would enjoy so much and become so passionate about that arguments would ensue over who was the most capable. 

You were always teamed with Cassian and Amren. Your two friends took you under their wings, for Cassian quite literally, and would use the game and your turns as education moments. 

"Amren said if I picked well enough, she'd stay and play." You smiled up at him. "Maybe you could switch her and Mor so she isn't dealing with such a handicap?"

Rhys made a face of confusion at you. "You are not a handicap, darling," he tilted your face up to his with two fingers under your chin. "I never want to hear those words fall from your mouth again. Now, to the game room."

The two of you went up the stairs, several bottles of alcohol and the board game in hand, and the room went silence when they saw that familiar painted terrain box. 

Cassian was the first to jump up, immediately clearing more space on the table. "I'm fucking you up this time, Az."

The shadowsinger shook his head, rearranging the chairs and staring his brother down. "Over my dead body, Cassian."

Amren immediately took her spot, one one that'd normally be on your right, and Cassian the one on the left. The two of them patted the chair eagerly staring at you despite knowing they were about to lose. 

Azriel and Rhys were making eye contact. A smile ghosting the face of the shadowsinger. Rhys began slowly, setting the bottles down. "I was thinking we could change the teams a little. Mor with you two, and y/n with Azriel and I."

Cassian covered a laugh with a cough and Amren's face turned into that of a feral cat. Mor also wore a shameless smirk as she took your seat. 

Azriel ushered you to the table, setting you in the middle chair. He was near your ear and said softly. "Just follow our lead, study what we're doing, and remember all the books we read, okay? You will do fine." Rhysand and him sat next to you. 

This was not a fair team. You had expected him to switch Amren and Mor, leaving still fairly even odds, but now Cassian's side was stacked. 

The commander of the Illyrian and Night Court's army who mapped battles out for fun.

An ancient being who studied bloodshed and battles for fun, openly commenting on where armies and nations mess up.

And Mor. Mor who lead battalions as a female. Mor who was Rhysand's last resort.

You bit your lip, immediately feeling insecure. Stop it, Rhysand said gently into your head. We have an advantage here, remember?

You kept a neutral face, feeling something being built into your mind. This is cheating, Azriel's deep voice then said. We should do this to beat Cassian more often. You heard soft flows of whispers in your mind, almost causing you to drop the calm face. You get used to them, the two males said together. They're very, very helpful. Rhysand purred. 

You leaned back taking a deep breath and studying the map of the eastern and western contenants and countries. "Y/n," Cassian said per tradition and rules, "you go first as the most traveled fae." 

Take the western isles, Azriel said. Steal where Cassian trained you to go and throw him off. It is exactly where you should start to win, you just typically make small enough errors we could pull everything apart. You took the legion figures in your hand. "I only know one start for this game, Cass." The general's face fell as you placed your allotted start pieces. 

"You-" His jaw tightened. "I see how this is going to be." 

You heard that whisper as Mor began. Night Court. It was ghostly and snake like, predicting her move exactly. Made mistake. No air legions.

A hand found yours under the table, lacing your fingers into calloused longer ones. "Shall we begin?" 

The game turned into what it traditionally turns into quickly. Azriel and Cassian were stood, noses touching as they talked shit about each other battle planning. 

Your team had managed to take 80% of the board through methods you weren't proud of. Amren and Mor were also quietly arguing, the blonde accusing the ancient being of purposely sabotaging them when it was Mor who made the initial mistake that had handicapped them the rest of the game.

Rhysand's hand had moved from holding yours to your mid thigh, tracing small circles into the skin as you two drank wine and watched the fighting with matching cat like grins. He inclined his head to the balcony and you two stood to walk outside as Cassian threw a last straw insult Azriel's way, resulting in the traditional fist fight that came with this game. 

You and Rhysand leaned against the balcony, looking up at the twinkling stars. He had closed the link the three of you were sharing, allowing you to focus on just him. "I can see why Azriel struggles with headaches now," you confessed. "I can't imagine constantly hearing that input of information."

Rhys nodded. "I block it for him when he sleeps. Unless it's urgent. Then I allow them to communicate." 

"That makes sense." 

Comfortable silence fell between you two. At least silence until Rhys accidentally blurted out the words he'd wanted to for years now. "I love you."

"I love you too, Rhysand." You leaned into his arm and watched as his head fell in defeat. 

"No, y/n Darling. I don't think you understood that."

You blinked at his slightly panicked and desperate face. "Rhys, I love all of you, you're my friends and family."

Rhys shut his eyes, turning you so you two were looking at each other face to face, heart to heart. His two large hands came to your cheeks, cupping yout face as a serious expression fell over his. "Darling, I'm in love with you. I have been for a very very long time." Your mouth parted slightly, breath stilling as you blinked at him. 

It all made sense now. The countless gifts. The "dates". The moments spent completely alone where he'd have his hands on you. 

"Rhysand," you watched him nod, taking your silence as rejection. "No." You pulled him back to you, "I. I love you too." 

His eyes searched your face as he searched your mind. "You thought?" You nodded, not needing him to finish questioning your insecurities. "Oh darling." You felt something pull in your ribcage, eyes growing wide as you stared at him. Tears began to form in both of your eyes as he moved to hold you close again. "I could never and would never do that to you, y/n. I have loved you since the time you helped me adjust my Starmap. Our time apart just helped make it more apparent." 

He crashed his lips on yours in a hard passionate kiss. Snaking his arms around your waist as yours went to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

It was fire.

It was the richest of wines you'd ever had.

The coolest water in the desert.

Kissing Rhysand wasn't just an action. It was an experience. You almost melted into his body, allowing him to hold you as closely as possible. 

You two finally pulled apart, his forehead finding yours instantly as you both smiled and laughed softly. 

"HAND OVER MY FUCKING MONEY AZRIEL!" You both jumped at the loud boom of Cassian's voice.

"It's midnight," a cool reply came. You both moved inside just in time to hear Azriel's explanation. "It's a new month now, Cassian. You said two months. I said three. How about you hand over MY MONEY?"

Rhysand made an appalled face, his jaw dropping. "You two placed a bet on this?"

Amren rolled her eyes as Mor was growling and handing over three jewelry boxes. "We all did. Thank you, girl. It was a pleasure doing business with you. Shadowsinger, we make a wonderful team." 

Azriel sat with his hand out, sipping his whiskey casually as Cassian groaned and counted out pieces of gold. "Yes we do, little fire drake, yes we do."

Rhys rolled his eyes, pulling you by your hand to the stairs. "Goodnight," he called over his shoulder. A chorus of Goodnights came in reply before arguing ensued again. 

Rhysand led you to his room, opening the door and leading inside of the luxurious chamber by the small of your back. He pulled you to his bed, laying you back on it gently as he began to kiss you again. Relax, darling. I only want a few kisses.

It was much, much more than just a few kisses. 

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhys x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #inner circle #inner circle x reader

[essenceofelegance]

Poseidon’s (pt. 1)

Luke Castellan x poseidon!reader, Percy Jackson x halfsister!reader

m.list

pt. 2, pt. 3

warnings: none

You ran up to Luke from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Hey, hero,” you greeted, kissing his neck with a smile.

You were a daughter of Poseidon, you’ve been dating Luke Castellan for four years now, you arrived at camp a couple months later than Luke.

“Who’s this?” you said, directing your gaze at the unclaimed Percy.

“Percy, he’s the one who killed the Minotaur,” Luke said as he leaned his face into your forehead, “Be nice, it’s his first day.”

You smiled, unwrapping your hand from his neck, “I’m always nice, that’s why everybody loves me,” you joked, as you walked in front of Luke to shake Percy’s hands.

“I’m Y/n, Poseidon’s,” you held out your hand with a warm smile.

“Percy,” Percy said as he shook your hand.

“What do you think?” Luke asked as he wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your hair.

You and Luke have a tradition of guessing the Godly heritage of new  campers, and so far, you were always right.

“Hm,” you said, “Has your mom ever said anything about your dad?” you asked Percy, “Hey, you can’t ask,” Luke said.

“Uh- No, I don’t think so.” Percy said.

“I say Poseidon,” you whispered in Luke’s ear as you sent him a wink and walked away.

-

“Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God,” Chiron said.

You rushed up to where everything was happening, just in time to catch the fading trident above Percy’s head.

You quickly scanned the crowd for Luke, just to find that his eyes were already on yours. You sent  him a victorious smirk.

You walked over to Percy.

“Well, I guess you have a sister now,” you said with a smile. “Yeah,” Percy flashed you a polite smile.

“Welcome to the family!” you patted Percy on the back, “Thanks,” Percy said, a genuine tone in his voice.

You were about to go clean up and make some space in the cabin for Percy, when you saw Luke coming over, “You owe me two days of dessert, Castellan,” you smiled.

“You win, again,” he sighed with a smile, “I really thought I would in this time.”

“Were you guys placing bets on me?” Percy asked.

You smiled, “Mhm. Tradition,” you sent another smirk at Luke, “And so far, I’ve won almost every single time.”

“You knew I was a Poseidon kid?” Percy frowned.

“You have dad’s eyes,” you gave him a smile.

“Come on,” you gestured for Percy to follow you, “Luke will help you with your stuff, I’ll go clean up the cabin.”

pt. 2

author: okay since a lot of you didn’t like sand on cheeks (series), i’m working on more luke stuff to keep you all happy. please tell me you like this- PART TWO IS GONNA BREAK SOME HEARTS.

Copyright © 2024 Emory Belrose. All rights reserved. 

⋆

Please do not re-upload my work on any platforms without permission.

Any reblogs, comments, likes, shares, and follows are appreciated.

#percy #percy jackson #percy jackson show #percy and annabeth #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #perseus jackson #annabeth pjo #fanfic #angst #acotar fanfiction #annabeth #chalice of the gods #percy jackson imagine #pjo x reader #pjo x you #percy jackson x you #pjo fanfic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan imagine

[kitchenwitchtingss]

RECIPES I KEEP IN MY ONLINE KITCHEN WITCH JOURNAL #2

I love making these oh my gosh.

Why?

It's really fun

It's been a while since my last one

I get an excuse to try yummy recipes

You all are way too good at what you do

It's fun x2

Teas, Drinks, And Syrups

🍊 Orange Peel Tea 🍊

Violet Lemonade

Coconut Summer Drink

Dandelion Honey

The Best Hot Spiced Cider recipe you’ll ever try

Apple Cider is basically a homesteading spell

Rose Lemonade Syrup

100-Year Garlic (Garlic Honey)

Fire Cider Spell for Winter Protection

Blackberry & Apple Jam

Witchy Recipes - Blackberry Lemonade

Baked Goods + Sweets

Prosperity Bread

Lavender Earl Grey Cookies

Easy Rosemary Focaccia Loaf for Love and Protection

Heavenly Lavender Scones

Honey Vanilla Peach Butter 🍑

Pumpkin Pie Dip 🎃

Vanilla-Pumpkin Cupcakes

Soups, Stews, And Dinners

Super simple secret potato soup

Forest Porridge

Heartwarming potato soup

Perfect Homemade Garlic Bread

Creamy vegetable soup

Springtime Soup

Stuffed Maple dijon glazed roasted butternut squash

Summertime stir fry

Sabbat Stuff

Litha Orange Honey Cake

Litha Thyme Chicken

Stuffed Apples for Mabon

Mabon Mug

Imbolc Pretzel wreath

Oatmeal Bread for Lughnasadh

Samhain Mulled Cider

Samhain Irish Apple Cake

Angel's Best

(my favorite recipe posts I've made over the years, plus backstories that sound like your grandmother's reminiscing over the past.)

LATE WINTER BUTTER ROLLS

My first post I ever made. I was pretty new to the tumblr community at the time. I loved kitchen witchcraft, and I'm the type of person who will ramble on about how much I love cooking and baking. This blog gave me an outlet to express my love of cooking, baking, paganism, and witcraft. And these rolls are very tasty, I make them to this day!

WITCHY TOMATO BASIL SOUP

Tasty, simple, and a crowd-pleaser. It's perfect for a beginner kitchen witch! It was also the second recipe I ever posted.

SWEET CREAM BUNS

It was a recipe given to me by one of my good friends at the time. Every time I make it, it gets devoured in less than 10 minutes. It was also my first recipe to get over 50 notes. I was shocked but ecstatic that so many people would even give it the time of day lol.

WITCHY THUMBPRINT COOKIES

These ones were just fun to make and delicious lol.

A WITCH’S COZY BUTTERNUT WINTER SOUP

A quick soup that feeds a lot of people during the fall season. Fall is my favorite season, so of course I'm very biased lol.

SAMHAIN PUMPKIN BREAD

I love pumpkin bread and apple cider... So why not combine the two? This one was definitely one of my favorites of all time. Moist pumpkin bread and chocolate chips have to be one of my favorite things on this planet. It also makes for the perfect gift for friends and family. Yummy!

ANGEL’S AWARD-WINNING LEMON POPPY SEED BREAD

I love dessert loaves of any kind, so naturally, this would be on the list lol.

MAPLE BUTTER COOKIES

Super simple comfort food! I love any time of cookie with brown sugar.

BRING ME POSITIVITY PECAN FRENCH TOAST BAKE

I love French toast, and I love positivity~

SAMHAIN SOUL CAKES RECIPE

These are really good! And traditional. If you celebrate Samhain, I recommend you make some soul cakes and have friends and family help decorate. I give the littles a bag of orange frosting and let them go crazy lol.

FEEL BETTER CHICKEN SOUP

One of my most recent is my witchy twist on chicken noodle soup!

#witches #kitchen witch #witchy #witch #magick #kitchen witch recipes #food #recipes #witchblr #kitchen magick #foodblogger #sabbats #litha #kitchen witch tips #modern witch #modern witchcraft

[rosemaze-reveries]

― enclosed with love

spending valentine's day with you eli, mary, michiko, naib, norton, percy, philippe

i adored this year's vday café designs so i wrote some hcs for them ^^

⚠️ modern AU

♡ Mary

With a delicate and highly sophisticated palate, Mary is always searching for something new to satisfy her. For Valentine's Day, she books a private tour at a high-end champagne house.

Her driver is scheduled to pick you up in the early afternoon. She arranged your date so “late” to give herself ample time to settle on an outfit. Her room is littered with hat boxes and empty hangers and piles of ‘maybes’. Everything must be perfect for you. But, every second without you feeds into her restlessness, and she ends up calling you to fill the time. Hours go by on the phone & she still refuses to hang up until she pulls outside your residence.

When she first greets you from the backseat of her car, her hands are on you immediately. She smoothes out the collar of your jacket and peppers a couple of warm kisses all across your face, somehow never quite landing on your lips. She quickly dabs away all the lipstick stamps she left with her handkerchief and apologizes for being so forward,,, only to end up doing it again.

Mary takes high pride in her outfits and never compromises on looking classy. But somewhere in the back of your head, you think: All white? To a wine tasting? What if she gets red stains on her dress? From anyone else, this comment would insult her ― she doesn't take kindly to the insinuation that she's a klutz. Coming from you, she laughs it off saying she's always looked better in red anyway.

She waits until arriving for your tour to present her gifts. Mary gives VERY generously. There's an entire table prepared for you. Mountains of roses, desserts, tickets to that trip you've always wanted to take, luxury spa packages -- she has everything.

♡ Norton

This Valentine's Day is the first Norton will be spending with someone. He'll act like he's not that invested in it, that he's just indulging you.

He keeps up a haughty smirk when you first meet for your date. You had a love letter delivered to him that morning, and he's 100% taking the opportunity to tease you about it. You wrote some pretty embarrassing things about him. How's the real deal living up to your expectations? Dying to bring some of those thoughts to life already? Unfortunately, you insisted on having a traditional date for Valentine's, so you'll have to keep yourself in check until tonight. ← He knows he makes you crazy & he loves having that effect on you.

He gives you chocolates as a gift. They're clearly homemade, shaped like rocks of various sizes with a little gold-dusted heart hidden among them. But just in case you wouldn't be able to recognize them as rocks, he also provided a little toothpick "pickaxe."

Presenting something homemade is a little embarrassing, even if he hides it with that big grin of his. He gives your present a little too fast before switching back to teasing you again.

♡ Philippe

As a perfectionist, Philippe starts planning for Valentine's Day very early. He experiments with all sorts of gift ideas. You're not sure what's going through his head, but he has a highly specific vision and won't rest until he achieves it. He seems to find it important that he gives you something handmade.

Matching photo lockets? A decoden case (if you're into fun phone cases)? Not meaningful enough. A flower vase modeled after his own hand, to sit on your desk? Too tacky. A wax figure? Maybe, but that's too predictable on its own. Maybe he should learn guitar to serenade you.

His final choice is ambitious, but Philippe always is. He builds a little table out of resin, and preserved inside it are your favorite flowers, with detailed wax figurines of you and him dancing among them. It sits in a corner of his favorite room, where he often does dance with you ♡

On the day itself, Philippe would prefer to stay home. It's one of the rare times he gets to have you to himself free of work constraints.

He's the type that always needs to be doing something with his hands. He'd enjoy making chocolate sculptures together -- it's a cute idea, he thinks, to watch you make something so passionately. Whatever your skill level, he loves anything you make.

In the evening, he'll take over all the cooking. A quiet night with steak and good wine (or your preferred drink) is a little cliche, but you both deserve it. Plus, he loves nothing more than casually chatting with you while he works in the kitchen.

♡ Naib

Naib isn't really into the idea of Valentine's Day. He might not even realize it's coming up unless you tell him about it. You'd have to be explicit that you're looking forward to spending the day with him, and even then, he's totally unprepared.

Gifts have never been his forte. Neither have grand romantic gestures. But he's good at working his pragmatic side into the little things: so rather than push himself to be this lovey-dovey, chocolates-and-roses type of lover for the day, he focuses on being 'present' for you.

He brings you breakfast in bed. He's a mean cook, and knows all your favorites. Everything he makes tastes like home, warm and full of love.

Most couples give each other flowers, he knows that, so he goes shopping for one. You're surprised when he presents you with a bouquet of lemons. In his mind, they're cool and refreshing like you, everyone could find a use for some lemons, and personally he finds the colors to be appealing. It doesn't occur to him that lemon bouquets might be an unusual thing to give.

He relies on you to direct the date. Whatever you say, he'll agree. In public, he never leans in for kisses but wouldn't oppose yours. You can try to stand closer to him & he'll slink an arm around your waist briefly, as if to reassure you that he'll always have a secure hold on you, but he'll pull away again before long.

♡ Percy

In spite of all of his eccentricities, Percy is surprisingly traditional when it comes to romance. He invites you to a nice dinner date & arrives much earlier than you, waiting with a bouquet and chocolates. When he first sees you, he wraps a secure arm around your shoulders to tenderly kiss your forehead.

Getting to see this side of him is the payoff of building such a deep relationship with him. Percy is a difficult person to get through. He's obsessive to a fault and cloisters himself away in his studio for days at a time ― no one else would have been able to breach his heart like you have. He will take proper measures to express your importance to him.

His first real kiss leaves tiny particles of something on your lips, but they're sweet in taste. He laughs at the startled look on your face and reassures you it was just a sugar cube. At first he says he was just fishing for a reaction, but later confesses: he was afraid the lips of an undead man might have an odd taste, so he crunched a sugar cube to sweeten it.

♡ Eli

Eli spends the morning delivering roses to other couples on his bicycle. People tend to get especially flattered when their flowers arrive via owl, so his services are very popular this time of year.

He enjoys the little bouts of happiness he can bring to others, but of course you are the one he wants to spend this day with most. With every bouquet he delivers, his mind wanders to you, imagining your reaction when he finally gets to deliver his gift.

He asks you to meet him at an ice cream parlor when his shift is done, around noon. Before you even see him, Brooke Rose flies over to tuck a thornless rose behind your ear, and you turn to find Eli already waiting at a table.

He gives you a small homemade cake and a letter he won't let you read until he's gone. He's a pretty sappy guy even in person, so you aren't sure how his letter will be much different. But having something to be excited about, even after you have to say goodbye, makes it worth it.

His bike rides have left very familiar with all the best spots around town. After splitting ice cream, he takes you for a ride to all the little places he thinks you'll love. A flower meadow, a bridge with a superstition attached: if you whisper the name of your love while crossing it, you'll be bound for life. Part of you suspects he made that up, but the way he says your name over and over makes your heart skip a beat.

Once the sun goes down, he brings you to a forest. Somehow he manages to time it just right. He gestures for you to stay very quiet, gently takes your hands, and suddenly you're encircled by hundreds of fireflies.

♡ Michiko

Since losing her ex-husband, Valentine's Day has become a bitter thing for Michiko, especially since it's so close to their anniversary. She has treated it as a day of mourning for some years. Of course, she keeps up a smile for you ― it's not in her character to impose her struggles on others.

The morning goes by slowly and comfortably. You wake up to a gentle massage and the smell of fresh baked pastries. She writes you a sweet letter in her neat script, and she adorns her letter with pressed flowers & a mini bouquet of your favorite candy.

She makes sure to get you a proper gift, too. She follows a rule of getting 1 indulgent and 1 practical thing: a box of luxury chocolates alongside a fine new coat.

Her ideal date would be something intimate and relaxing. Maybe the theatre, in a box reserved for two, or a shaded flower garden where you can enjoy a cup of tea.

#identity v #idv imagines #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv bloody queen #naib subedar x reader #bloody queen x reader #mary x reader #norton campbell x reader #norton campbell #fools gold #fools gold x reader #eli clark x reader #eli clark #idv seer #seer x reader #idv geisha #idv michiko #michiko x reader #geisha x reader #idv percy #percy x reader #undead x reader #philippe x reader #wax artist x reader #naib subedar #mercenary x reader

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

a new plan

masterlist

emily prentiss x reader

unable to go on your valentines date, emily comes up with a makeshift plan

18+: fluff, smut; dom/sub undertones, dom!emily, semi public sex, office sex, fingering, food play, sensation play, brief sensory deprivation?, implied age gap

wc: 1.8k

Returning from a case on the afternoon before Valentine’s would ordinarily not impact your plans. You’ve never cared for the annual tradition, nor have you often had somebody to share it with, but this year, you had Emily.

It’s the first Valentine you’ve had together, and despite neither of you particularly caring for it, you’d ignited the excitement in one another. For the first time, you both found a reason to give in to the commercial holiday, using any excuse you could get your hands on to shower one another in attention. And Emily was never one to shy away from spoiling you; she’d reserved a table at the most expensive restaurant in the city and was thoroughly disappointed to be unable to take you there.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she’d whispered this afternoon, stealing a moment with you next to the coffee pot.

“It’s fine, Em,” you smiled with reassurance. “The section chief’s a busy woman,” you shrugged, giggling at the shy way she blushed at the title; she brushed a strand of grey hair behind her ear in the bashful way only you could entice.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

With the amount of paperwork she had to complete following yesterday’s case, she was restricted by deadlines. She adamantly promised to merely postpone your evening’s plans, and though you didn’t mind at all, you still looked forward to having a date night with your girlfriend.

“How about I keep you company tonight?” you questioned, missing the spark of an idea that crossed over her face.

“I’d love that.”

…

When the evening drew in, and the team dwindled down, you made your way to Emily’s office, knocking on the door before she called out to you.

“Emily,” you smiled, glancing around the room. Somehow, she’d made her way past you with containers of takeout food and chocolate-coated strawberries. The food was displayed on her desk and, in place of candles, were a scattering of lights stolen from Penelope’s office. The improvised setup made you swoon whilst she smiled at you from the blanket she sat upon on the ground.

“Em, how did you do all this?”

“I’ve got a couple of tricks up my sleeve,” she shrugged with a smirk, patting the space beside her for you to sit.

“What about your work?”

“I got more done than I expected,” she answered, stroking the back of her finger across your cheek. “I thought I could finish some off whilst we eat, and then I’m all yours. I know it’s not what we planned, but-”

“But it’s perfect,” you interrupted, feeling the upturn of her lips when you pushed your mouth to hers.

It was easy to sit in quiet with Emily, you both ate whilst she worked, passing casual conversation whilst you skimmed through one of the books she had on her desk. She flicked through her paperwork leaning on her lap, flicking her pen across the sheets until she was done. Then she turned to you, looking at you with relief as though she’d been deprived of the sight for days.

“How about a little dessert?” she breathed as she pushed her work aside and folded back the sleeves of her shirt. She plucked a strawberry between her fingers, lifting the chocolate-coated fruit to your lips.

She watched you intently when you let her push it past your lips, taking her time to pull it away once you’d taken a bite. You felt your cheeks burn under her stare, the focused way she watched you swallow.

Right away, her hand came to cup your cheek and her face grew nearer until she was close enough to lick away the sweet remnants of chocolate from the corner of your mouth.

“You always taste so sweet,” she breathed against you, swallowing your reply with her lips claiming yours. Your hands buried themselves within her hair to keep her close, pulling her chest flush against your own as her tongue licked into your mouth with fervour.

She was quick to unbutton your shirt, only separating from the kiss to guide you onto your back while her eyes took in the sight of your bra-clad chest, torso exposed with the material of your shirt pushed to your sides.

You spared a glance towards her door as you took ahold of her hips as she crawled up your body to plant her knees on either side.

“Nobody’s gonna come in,” she whispered with reassurance, watching you pull open the buttons of her shirt, slipping your hands beneath the fabric to feel the softness of her skin beneath them. Her body moulded with your own when you pulled her down to kiss her, hips twitching against yours, lost in the stomach-twisting embrace.

And with the muffled sound of a moan at the back of your throat, something within her shifted. She wanted her hands on you, your eyes peering up into hers, body at her mercy; the knowledge of the risky nature of such an action only made her want it more. Having you on the floor of her office, sprawled beneath her like a platter for her to dig into, was a forbidden sight. It shouldn’t happen here, you both know that, but the thrill of breaking the rules blurred any semblance of cautiousness between you both.

She pulled your hands away from the plush of her hips to press them against the ground, your arms stretched above your head.

“Keep them there,” she instructed and you nodded. You always do as you’re told, your obedience is one of her favourite things about you. “Close your eyes,” she murmured with a smirk at the way you followed her commands, fluttering them closed while you breathed deeply.

You didn’t know what she had planned, what ideas she’d conjured up in her head, but you could hear faint shufflings from her movements on top of you.

She reached her arm out towards the small container of cream she’d bought, planning for it to accompany dessert and dipped her fingers in. Her fingertips carried a dollop of white, whipped cream which soon found its way to your exposed skin.

You shivered at the feeling, the cool sensation tickling your ribs, the feeling of her digits smearing cream along your abdomen. She watched the white decorate your skin, lines drawn down the centre of your stomach; the sweet delicacy stroked along your collarbone and across the skin of your throat in a sticky mess.

Each grace of her touch felt electric, goosebumps pebbling each inch of skin. The soft sensations arched your back from the ground, lifting into her touch as much as you could with a lightly shuddered breath. You squeezed your eyes closed despite the way you desperately wished to see her and you kept your hands where she’d put them, depriving yourself of the feeling of her flesh.

Being unable to lay your eyes on her, however, only heightened your senses and the tongue that swiped through the cream across your neck set your skin alight. Her breath was hot, her lips plump where they dragged along your chest.

“Fuck, Em,” you breathed, panting for breath through the all-encompassing feelings she brought out despite such simple actions. To her, you were good enough to eat, dessert laid out before her with the sweet flavour on her tongue.

She pressed kisses to your stomach, cleaning up as she sucked marks into your skin; she was entirely focused on you, devouring each plane of skin with a mouth moving with ravenous fervour.

By the time she’d licked you clean and her teeth were grazing your jaw, the heat of your cunt throbbed between your legs just waiting for her touch.

“What’s wrong, honey?” she smirked, pulling away with lust-blown eyes at the small whimper you failed to quell. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you.” You practically whined and she loved it. “Please touch me.”

She was teasing with the movements of her hand - her palm slid over your waist while her lips moved with yours, purposefully touching you anywhere but where you yearned for her. You dared to take ahold of her wrist and she smirked against you with a huff of a laugh, letting you guide her touch downwards.

As some sort of retaliation to your bold move, the fingers she pushed past the waistband of your underwear weren’t tentative. They slid through your folds, dipping into you with a harsh thrust, curling within your pussy with no reprieve to the rhythm she began.

“You gotta keep quiet, baby,” she rasped. You could feel her breath tickling your cheek.

You buried your face in the crook of her neck with the spiced scent of her perfume engulfing you in comfort, your parted lips clinging to her skin. The svelte fingers between your thighs kept up their pace, pumping into you with perfect precision, nudging at the sweet spot deep within you. You held her close with your hand entwined within the salt and pepper tresses, only earning a sigh from the older woman at the way your flexing fist tugged at her scalp.

Her thumb expertly circled your sensitive clit, pushing over the swollen bud in a way that lifted your hips from the ground, rutting against her palm for all the friction you could chase down. You kept yourself as quiet as possible with the sinking of your teeth into the tender skin of her neck; you scattered sloppy kisses through your uneven breaths, flicking a soothing tongue over harsh bite marks.

Emily loved to see you stake your claim - a reminder of the overwhelming way she made you feel. Bite marks cling to her, keeping yourself etched into her skin in splotches of pinks and purples.

“Let go for me, my love,” she murmured out above you; she could feel the way you soaked her digits down to her knuckles, and how your cunt clenched around her with each deliberate push into you. She could hear it and she ached to taste it.

She wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d drawn blood with the rough sinking of your teeth into her collarbone as you came, muffling each grunt and moan against her. Your body flooded with heat and you could hear the thrumming of your heart, legs trying to close around her arm where she rode your sensitive cunt through the waves of pleasure.

She pulled away with dripping fingers, coated in your juices for her to swallow down. She sucked them past her lips as though she’d collected a swipe of ambrosia; food of the gods, sweet like honey. She drank down every last drop like she were starved.

“I’m gonna take you home,” she began with her pink, swollen lips ghosting yours. “And I’m going to absolutely devour you.”

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction

[steddieasitgoes]

@steddiemas Day 21 Prompt: Home and/or Dinner

I honestly think this is my favorite one yet!

Tags: Pre-Relationship Steddie, Eddie Munson Has A Crush On Steve Harrington, Holiday Parties, Overstimulation (the bad kind, not the fun kind), Steve Harrington Is A Sweetheart

wc: 2215 | Rating: G

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

The holidays were always a quiet affair at the Munsons.

A few gifts, wrapped in week-old copies of the Hawkins Post, placed under a modest tree from Merrill’s. Wayne’s famous (well, famous to Eddie) chocolate chip pancakes in the morning with a questionable amount of syrup and a reheated casserole from Ms. Jenkins down the street for dinner.

No church or family plans, just the two of them, a couple of beers (root beer in Eddie’s case until a few years ago), and whatever movie Eddie had insisted they watch before he turned the TV over to Wayne and the Christmas basketball game.

It was good. Great, even.

Eddie loved his holiday traditions with Wayne.

He did, but sometimes he’d catch sight of Ms. Jenkins welcoming her brood of kids and grandkids into her cluttered trailer or spot Gerald loading the passenger seat of his pickup with toys for his nieces and nephews and wonder what it would be like to have a big family to spend the holidays with.

Turns out, it’s loud.

So, very, loud.

The Hopper-Byers’ new house is bursting at the seams with guests. The entire We Survived The End of the World gang is here along with some guests — Wayne and Ms. Henderson. Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair stopped by for about an hour before excusing themselves to finish up holiday shopping (said in a hushed tone to not ruin Santa for Erica — as if she still believes, Eddie had thought). But mostly it was just the usual gang.

Eddie learned, in the form of Dustin’s “you’re being stupid” voice that it's become a tradition for them. Gathering a week before the holidays to pig out on food and dessert, play games, and exchange presents. Celebrate the year coming to an end and them making it.

As the apocalypse gang grew every year, the celebration got bigger and bigger until they were tripping over each other inside of the Byers house. That is, until this year when Joyce and Hopper got their shit together and finally moved into a decent-sized house on the outskirts of Hawkins. It’s no Loch Nora mini-mansion, but it works for them — even if it's still a tight fit when everyone is together.

Murray, Joyce, and Ms. Henderson are gathered in the kitchen — arguing over when to take the turkey out of the oven and the proper milk-to-cheese ratio in macaroni casseroles. A small radio sits in the corner, attempting to play Christmas music over the static. That’s the con about living farther out, Eddie supposes.

El and Max have claimed a fold-out table on the outskirts of the kitchen where they’ve been decorating cookies for hours, it seems. El’s simple and artistic, Max’s a chaotic mess of spilled-over frosting and candy sprinkles. (Eddie’s stolen one from each and thinks they’re both delicious much to their delight.)

The den’s been co-opted by Hopper and Wayne, and the TV volume turned all the way up (“We can hear just fine! It’s you kids that are making it hard,” Hopper gruffed when one of them pointed out the volume). They’re switching between basketball games while nursing beers and pretending not to hear the argument going down in the kitchen.

Jonathan and Argyle are hiding out in his room — smoking and trying to drown out the noise with whatever record he managed to pick up from the store he’s working at. Eddie thought about joining him, but the scowl he earned from Wheeler Jr. had him changing course.

The rest of them have taken refuge in the spacious basement. It’s too chaotic for Dungeons & Dragons so the boys and Erica have taken to playing an intense game of Monopoly. The threats he’s heard hurled at each other have been clever and downright terrifying. Way worse than anything they’ve uttered at his DM table. Those heathens.

For some reason, Steve’s taken on the role of the banker. Something about Dustin skimming from the top last time he held the role and played. Now, house rules say the banker has to be an NPC, and well, Steve fits the bill. Unfortunately, he seems to be struggling with the math of it all judging by the scoffs and annoyed eye rolls thrown his way. Eddie would go help, but he doesn’t think he’d be much help. Godspeed, Steve.

Nancy and Robin are there too, sprawled out on the couch and lost in their own little world. Occasionally Robin gets up to flip the record on the record player, but mostly they sit together, gossiping and talking about who knows what in hushed voices. Eddie might understand every little thing about dungeons and hobbits, but girl talk? That’s an alien language if he’s ever seen one.

As for him? Well, he’s hovering in the middle of it all. With Steve occupied, he’s taken on his babysitter role of sorts. Racing up and down the stairs to fetch whatever snacks the gremlins demand, rustling Max and El’s hair on the way in, and nodding at Hopper and Wayne on the way out. He narrowly escapes being sucked into being the official judge for the impromptu Murray vs Ms. Henderson pie off and almost makes it up to Jonathan and Argyle’s room before Dustin is bellowing for him.

It’s fun, mostly.

Getting to see everyone relaxed and having fun. A far cry from the last time they were all together like this back in March.

In some ways, it's what Eddie’s always dreamed it would be like. Being part of a big family, a cog in a never-ending machine of noise and organized chaos.

But it’s also becoming a lot.

Lucas is about to put a hotel on Boardwalk that has everyone shouting and throwing their own pieces at his head. Steve’s trying to keep them under control but it's a losing battle. One that pulls Robin and Nancy from their own little world to join the chaos.

And then there’s even more noise.

A crash from upstairs, the blaring voice of Joe Strummer coming from Jonathan’s room, more shouting, Wayne and Hoppers stopping, and giggles from Max and El.

Suddenly all Eddie can hear is noise.

It gets louder and louder and louder until finally, he’s certain his eardrums are going to explode.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he pushes through the chaos going on upstairs (dropped pies and frosting stains and shouting at TVs) and makes his way onto the wrap-around porch.

The crisp cold air is the first thing that hits him. Like an idiot, he ran out of the house without a coat or scarf or hell, even the warm hat Ms. Henderson knitted for him earlier in the month. He shivers, rubbing his hands up and down his bare arm as he tries to take deep breaths, watching as his warm breath twirls in the breeze.

As his body adjusts, so do his ears. He can still hear the chaos going on inside, but it's muffled now. Distant. He can hear himself think for the first time in hours and for once, it’s nice.

The snow is falling in slow but steady flakes, dusting the backyard in the white. Or, it should be white, but the hoard of Christmas lights decorating the house illuminates the backyard in reds and greens. It’s a real Christmas wonderland out there, now.

Reaching into the pocket of his jeans, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes and his trusty lighter. The first inhale of nicotine warms him from the inside out, sending the goosebumps packing as he focuses on his steady and slow inhale and exhales.

At some point he zones out, so focused on the snow falling and the repetitive nature of lifting the cigarette to and from his lips that he doesn’t hear the creak of the door or the heavy footsteps that follow until the intruder is standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

“Figured you might be needing this,” Steve says, hand outstretched with Eddie’s coat.

“Thanks, man.”

They swap, Eddie takes the coat from Steve and Steve takes the lit cigarette from Eddie, keeping it safe while he shimmies his way into the monstrosity that he calls his winter coat. When he’s finally situated in the plaid nightmare, he reaches a hand out ready to take his cigarette back only to find it perched between Steve’s lips.

Oh.

That’s different.

Sure, they’ve smoked together before. Bummed off cigarettes in the ally behind Family Video and in the parking lot of Palace Arcade waiting for the gremlins to be done. But they’ve never shared the same one. Never pressed their lips to the same filter. Felt the dampness of their mouths on their own lips.

“Sorry,” Steve says, lips turning up in a small smile as he removes the cigarette. “Couldn’t help myself.”

Eddie nods, unable to say much else as their fingertips brush when he takes it back. Is it weird if he puts it between his lips right now? Is he supposed to wait a minute? Let Steve’s taste linger for a moment. God, he’s being so weird right now. In the end, he brings the cigarette to his lips and takes the smallest inhale, nearly coughing as the smoke floods his lungs because he’s so distracted by the way the filter feels different now that it’s been in Steve’s mouth — as if that makes any sense.

“You okay? You sort of booked it out of the room.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, before leaning against the banister of the porch. “Yeah, m’good. It just—“

“Got too loud?” Steve supplies, mirroring his position. “I get it. I remember my first holiday dinner. There were a lot less of us in ’83 but shit. It was still so loud.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m a pretty loud son of a bitch.” Eddie’s caught off guard by Steve’s snorting. Stealing a glance, he finds Steve lit up in reds and greens, a smile etched on his face so deep he can see the spot where smile lines are going to emerge in the next ten years, catching the way his eyes already wrinkle in the corners. Fuck, he’s beautiful. “But, uh, yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house that loud before. Not even when I’m fucking around with the Corroded Coffin boys.”

“Well, I doubt that. Your music is very loud.”

“Uh, yeah, ‘cause it's metal, Steve.”

“So I’ve been told,” Steve says, smiling that soft, private smile again.

If Eddie was braver, he’d close the distance between them and press his lips to his. But if this year has taught him anything, it’s that he’s not. Not really. So he lets a quiet fall between them instead. They continue to stand shoulder to shoulder, passing the dwindling cigarette between them despite the pack in Eddie’s pocket being brand new, and watch as the snow steadily starts to pick up.

“You know,” Steve says, then stops.

Eddie turns, watching the gears tick in Steve’s brain as he decides what to say next. It’s magical watching it all pass on his face — the knit of his brows, his pupils dilating and returning to their normal size, letting the hazel shine through. The way his lips open and close like some gasping fish.

“If it ever gets to be too much, you can tell us. Tell me. Hell, I know I need a break after a few hours with those shitheads. Maybe we could come up with a code word or something.”

“A codeword? That’s might nerdy of you, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, waving his hand through the air as he bites back a chuckle. “But yeah, a code word. It’d be easier to say than “hey it’s too loud and I can’t think” you know. Plus, it would annoy the shit out of Henderson.”

“Well, then. Count me in. You know I love annoying the shit out of that kid. Gotta keep that ego in check somehow.”

They spend the next few minutes going back and forth trying to decide on a word that could work. Steve wants something common — a fruit or a vegetable. Eddie disagrees, saying it has to be something uncommon so they don’t accidentally say it, but common enough that it doesn’t sound weird casually being dropped in conversation.

They wrack their brain, throwing out silly words left and right until there’s a crash from inside. Their heads swivel in tandem toward the source of the noise. A flurry of shadows passes on the other side of the window as Steve shakes his head and sighs.

“Come on,” he says, handing the cigarette back to Eddie. “If we’re not at the table the minute the food gets served, we won’t be eating. The gremlins know no manner.”

Eddie laughs, stubbing out the cigarette on the ashtray precariously balanced on the banister, “Teaching ‘em manners seems like a job for their babysitter.”

“Nah,” Steve snorts. “Maybe one for their Dungeon Master, though.”

Just as the words leave Steve’s lip, there’s a shout from inside followed by another crash.

“Think it might be a job for both of us, actually,” Eddie laughs. “Together?”

“We need all the help we can get,” Steve says. “Together it is.” 

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fluff #steddie ficlet #steddie fan fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson ficlet #eddie fic #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #dani writes

[jo-harrington]

Peak Sales Hours (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: After his first Black Friday, Eddie is exhausted and takes comfort in his new relationship with you.

Previous Part: Promotion

Warnings/Themes: Established friendship/new relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort(?), idk it's a lot of comfort, working in retail hell, Eddie works at Tape World and Reader is the Store Manager at Claire's in Starcourt Mall, angry customers, weariness

Note: So...hi guys. Welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. This little installment is sort of skipping a step. I had a whole thing planned and half-written of Eddie and our favorite SM actually confessing their feelings and being fluffy...and it's still gonna happen I'm just...on day whatever of work and have a big deadline and have had sleep for lunch the past I-don't-know how many days.

And it just took me back to the countless Black Friday and Peak Holiday shifts where all I wanted was to get back home. So here we are.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

___

Never, in his entire life, had Eddie Munson felt more akin to the heroes from his favorite fantasy stories.

Long journeys and harrowing battles.

Deep wounds and comrades lost to the beyond.

Hoards of villains and the promise of a better future if only there was hope.

Taran. Aragorn. Luke Skywalker. They had seen it all.

"What's taking so long? I just need a gift receipt!"

But none of them had ever worked Black Friday.

He had experienced Black Friday before, as a shopper.

Thanksgiving hadn't ever been anything magnificent in the Munson household, especially after his mom died. Wayne and Rick had always tried to make it still feel special for Eddie, with hearty midwest comfort foods.

There would always be a full belly and an even fuller heart with his uncle and his almost-step-dad around. Eddie could never complain.

Then after a late afternoon dinner, Wayne would pack up a plate of leftovers to make his shift at the plant that paid time-and-a-half, plus a little something extra from the plant manager, cash in hand. By the time Eddie woke up the next morning, Wayne would pull up with a box of fresh donuts, honk three times, and they would be on their way to the Kmart on Rt 9 and get some steeply discounted goods with Wayne's holiday pay.

It was always a madhouse, but Eddie could swiftly dodge screaming kids, empathize with over-caffeinated employees, and wait in long lines if he and Wayne didn't need to fret about things like work boots and gloves, t-shirts and underwear, and usually one nice little Christmas gift for each of them.

This year, of course, had been a little different. Wayne had been a little disappointed--he would never admit it, but Eddie could tell--that their tradition would be forsaken for Eddie's shift at the mall. But your addition into the Thanksgiving festivities had been a welcome one.

Eddie had extended the invitation weeks ago, when you mentioned you wouldn't be able to make it home to spend the holiday with your family thanks to work.

You, of course, promised to pull your weight--

"It's always really casual," he tried to ease your worries as you began to fret over what kind of dessert Wayne and Rick might like. "You don't even need to dress up. Come in your pajamas. Rick makes a really good pumpkin pie, and I have my mom's old scalloped potato recipe that will literally put you in a food coma."

"What about turkey?" you asked.

"We don't really do turkey." He shrugged. "There's only three of us. So we do different things every year. Rick usually catches some kind of fish if it's warm enough. Wayne has a good recipe for fried chicken. We were thinking of doing meatloaf..."

"I can do the meatloaf!" You perked up immediately.

--only to show up laden with a roasting pan for the meatloaf, a plastic-wrapped gravy boat full of some kind of mushroom gravy, a salad, and a casserole dish overflowing with green beans, cream-of-something soup, and heaps of french fried onions.

Eddie, of course, scolded you as you shuffled through to the kitchen, much like he had the first time you showed up for dinner at his place. But he also placed a soft peck on your lips, which earned him a bashful smile as you shoo'd him away.

That was a new development to your...friendship, if you could even call it that anymore. There really hadn't been time to discuss the logistics between the frenzied makeout session in his van outside of the Hideout this past Tuesday night and Thanksgiving dinner.

Now that he had been trapped at the cash wrap, ringing out ungrateful customers for the past 8 hours, he was almost loathing his past self for wanting to be a little discreet in front of Wayne and Rick. For not...making himself have the "what are we" conversation with you, because your lips had soothed every frazzled nerve he had the other night.

Knowing that at the end of the day that he wasn't going through it alone, that his girlfriend was also in the mall suffering through the mass chaos and that he could go upstairs and steal a kiss whenever he wanted...well it certainly would have done him a world of good to mentally prepare him for this.

For the entirety of his time working at Tape World, he thought he had been doing a pretty good job. Sure there were some hard days, some rude customers. But at the end of the day, an 8-hour shift was an 8-hour shift, and he was only selling tapes. Not...ending world hunger.

"Ah you say that now," Kyle told him on Wednesday as they were putting together cardboard "dump bins" for the discount tapes that would be placed every 10 feet in the store. "But Black Friday is a beast, and Christmas Eve is worse. You're honestly lucky you only work here and not at, like, Radio Shack or something. My buddy Todd has seen some shit.

"Actually, I'm almost regretting scheduling you as a mid but I needed a second key." Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. "Peak Hours. Mid's a rough shift for Black Friday weekend."

"I'll be fine," Eddie scoffed. "I've done mid shifts before. I'm almost excited. How bad could it get?"

Famous. Last. Words.

He had barely been able to squeeze into the store when it was time for his shift, the line for the cash wrap blocked the way to the stockroom door. As soon as people saw his name tag, they started shouting at him to open the other register, how they needed help; he could barely get a word out to explain that he wasn't clocked in yet. They didn't care.

He was no longer Eddie Munson, Tape World Keyholder and your boyfriend, probably, maybe...

He was a body who could unlock the electronics case and ring them out.

He was a husk who said "welcome in" and "thanks have a great day" and smiled until his face started hurting.

And for the first time since he had gotten this job back at the beginning of summer...it really fucked with him.

His legs were cramped from standing at the Cash Wrap for so long, he wasn't sure which of the associates had his keys, his hair was damp with sweat even if he threw it into a some haphazard bun hours ago.

He'd been yelled at by more people than he could count, counted so much change the edges of his fingers were pretty much stained from all the muck and grime on everyone's money, and had made so many returns from people with buyer's remorse that he was sure they had given more money back than they had made in sales today.

Eddie hadn't even gotten a chance to take his lunch out in the mall and pay you a visit like he typically would. He had just collapsed in the little metal folding chair in the break area of the tiny stock room. Kyle had clapped him on the shoulder with a quick "good job kid" as he left for the day and Eddie hadn't even moved.

"Alright Ed," Paulie shuffled over as Eddie wrapped up the last in a long line of transactions and was about to wave the next customer over. "Quitting time."

Eddie sighed and backed against the counter as Paulie counted him down. The adrenaline of the day finally started to wear off as he came to realize that it was all over, and a weariness unlike the one he had been feeling his entire shift settled deep into his bones.

He went through the motions as he went back to the stockroom to grab his jacket and punch out. He wove his way through the still-crowded store and out into the mall, sighing in relief as the cooler mall air hit him.

It was gonna be a mercy once he got out to his van. He'd drive home with the windows down.

His ears rang as he headed towards the employee entrance and he wondered if it would be worth waiting in line at the Orange Julius before he left or if he should just stop through the McDonald's drive thru or something on his way home.

"Eddie."

But then, he didn't really need to stop for anything. There were leftovers from Thanksgiving dinner at home. He could smoke a little bit, make some kind of meatloaf sandwich, and then sink into his bed.

"Eddie."

And sleep until...

Fuck.

He was gonna have to do it all again tomorrow. And the day after that.

He thought back to his favorite fantasy heroes and wondered how they did it. How they put themselves through endless journeys, practically sacrificed themselves time and again.

And he could barely make it through a shift at the Starcourt Mall of all places.

"Eddie!"

He crashed right into your hands as you planted them on his shoulders and prevented him from absolutely barreling into you.

"Jesus are you ok?" you exclaimed and pulled him off to the side of the walkway to get out of the way of foot traffic.

Was he? Probably not.

"Yeah," he shook his head and answered. He finally looked at you, finally actually saw you. Dressed in your Teen Vogue best, as you called it, although a little worse for wear, if the eyeshadow smeared where it definitely shouldn't be and your jewelry all askew was any indicator. "Yeah I'm fine.

"You sure? You looked like you were in a trance," you explained. "I've been calling your name for a little while."

"Oh shit," he sighed and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah, no...it's...It was just a long day."

You didn't hesitate. Your arms immediately wrapped around him and you pulled him in. Pulled him back from whatever precipice he was about to launch himself off of, and straight into the comfort of you.

---

Before long, Eddie found himself in your apartment, fully upside down with his legs propped against the wall as he enjoyed the Blizzard he'd picked up on the way.

"You know just cuz you can hold it upside down, doesn't mean you're supposed to eat it upside down," you laughed as you filled a pot with water and put it on the stove.

"And what are you, the Blizzard expert," Eddie scoffed. "If you'll recall I was the one who took you to Dairy Queen for the first time."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes and turned to grab some cans from the cupboard.

You had offered to make dinner--again--while he vented about his shift. Nothing as spectacular as what you made for Thanksgiving dinner, but it left the leftover meatloaf for Wayne to take for his lunches.

"You're lucky I like your spaghetti sauce," Eddie grumbled, a little sad that he couldn't have his meatloaf sandwich.

So he talked as you ran to your bedroom to rid yourself of the remnants of who you became when you were at Starcourt, and as you emerged the person that, he liked to believe, was reserved especially for him.

He told you about the back to back returns he had dealt with when he came back from lunch as you dropped dried pasta into the boiling water and grated garlic into sizzling oil.

He complained about the man who demanded help from a manager only even though all he wanted was a special edition cassette deck that had all the bells and whistles and anyone with keys could help him. His voice got louder and meaner as he quoted the jackass verbatim, but the sharp strike of your wooden spoon against the side of the pot brought him back down to earth.

And as he finished up his story about having to count Sam's register three times because he forgot that there were large bills under the cash tray, you joined him on the couch with a bowl of steaming hot pasta for each of you.

He righted himself and discarded the empty blizzard cup on your coffee table.

"First Black Friday in the books," you announced and you passed the bowl to him. "I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" Eddie groaned. "Seriously? It was a disaster."

"They always are," you explained sagely.

"You survived," he pointed out.

"So did you."

"Barely."

"So?" you asked and twirled noodles on your fork expertly. "Doesn't that count? This is, like...my 5th Black Friday? My 6th? I count each one as a victory. And so should you."

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, then clinked plates with his in a salute, and then the two of you fell into contented silence as you ate.

As Eddie worked ravenously through the layers of starchy, cheesy, garlicky goodness, he realized that the weariness that had settled within him after his shift had started to alleviate. How he felt more like himself now that he was sitting next to you, basking in the warm glow of your company.

He briefly considered this ritual the two of you had been engaging in for months. The way you shared stories and foods and got closer to one another. He had always been a little worried that things would change if he ever got his wish, if this friendship with you ever became more.

But it was like nothing had changed at all.

He wanted to ask, was tempted to ask, what this was? If this was a date, like all the dates that weren't dates hadn't been before? If you were his girlfriend now?

But then...he recalled the time that you had a bad day and you immediately found relief in him, how he thought that he didn't need to be your knight as long as he could be your home.

And Eddie realized that whatever the two of you decided it would be, whether you were still just his friend, or if you were his girlfriend, or maybe...maybe something else...

You, too, would always be his home at the end of a long battle.

---

Next Part: Disaster Preparedness

Tag List for Store Manager Verse is still temporarily suspended. Thank you for understanding.

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fic #Eddie munson #Eddie munson fluff

[mizukitoyama-blr]

Oikawa x Reader: School Festival [a haikyuu one-shot]

Ok y'all, so my friends and I had an all-nighter where we write one-shots. The twist is, we each wrote down on different sticky notes a character, a plotline, and I think the third is a location. We did this a year ago and I forgot all about this, but I recently found it so I'm posting it here lol

I hope you enjoy.

1145 words

Story under the cut.

Being a foreign exchange student, experiencing life in Japan was a bit of a culture shock: different introductions, different eating customs, different school traditions. One school tradition you noted was that Japan had school festival days. For the past week, your class had been working on an idea and building the vision. Today was the final day where the booths would actually be open to people and you were kind of nervous. Why? Who knows. Maybe it was more excitement than nervousness.

Your class finished assembling the booth reasonably quickly, so you figured you’d find your friend Oikawa to see if his booth needed any help. It wasn’t long before you found his booth and he was waving you down. Oikawa was one of the first people to introduce himself to you. Of course, you now realize he was just trying to scope out the new girl considering his… following, but it ended up being a good friendship; mainly consisting of you helping Iwaizumi call him names and him being a weird flirt even though he’s pretty much a dork.

“Hi, Y/n! Couldn’t stay away for long, eh?” he asked, waving.

“No, actually I’m looking for your pretty friend. Hey, Iwa!” you responded jokingly, to which Oikawa feigned a sad pout. “How’s the booth coming along?”

“We're almost done. Just need to put up the last few banners,” Iwaizumi said.

“You may want to be careful, Y/n. As soon as we open, girls will swarm the area. You might get trampled and die,”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. “What are you guys doing anyway?”

“Kissing booth,” Iwaizumi said boredly as the title banner was hung up. You turned your head to Oikawa,

“What?”

“It’s the perfect concept! There's no girl in the world that wouldn’t want to kiss me! Just think of the revenue,”

“I wouldn’t count on it if it’s gonna be you, Oikawa. How is this even allowed in a school setting?”

“It’s just on the cheek. He does have a big following of girls at this school. It’s not like we can use his brain to help our booth,”

“I guess that makes sense,”

“How mean! Everyone undermines my intelligence,”

“Oh yeah, how did your game go Saturday?”

“It was fine. We won, of course, but it just felt too easy. I need a challenge in my life. You should come to my next game! You can wear one of my jerseys,”

“Hmm, tempting, but I’ll pass. Volleyball isn’t really my thing. Well, if you’re pretty much done, I’m gonna head around to look at the other booths. See ya around!”

“Bye, Y/n~!”

*

Everything looked amazing and you were having a good amount of fun before someone grabbed your shoulders from behind, making you jump. “Ya ho~!”

“Gah! Oikawa you scared me! Why would you do that?” you exclaimed and punched him in the arm.

“Ow! I can take the abuse from Iwa, but from you, it’s just too much,”

“Sorry. I saw opportunity and couldn’t resist,”

“The abuse I endure for you. Do you wanna go do something together?”

“What about your booth?”

“I’m all kissed out and on break. Girls wear a lot of lip product,” he said while rubbing some gloss and balm off his cheek. “But anyways, let’s go get some food or something. I’m so hungry,”

“I saw a teriyaki booth somewhere. Wanna get some of that? You’re paying,”

“Don’t I always?” The two of you walked the booths, trying different foods and desserts. The games were pretty fun too! It was nice playing games that weren’t rigged. You were clowning on Oikawa a bit at how much he sucked at some of the games compared to you, though you're sure he’d thrown some of your matches together. As your escapade continued, you noticed some girls you passed had their hands pressed to their cheeks while pointing and gazing at Oikawa, undoubtedly gushing over how they kissed each other on the cheek.

“I don’t understand how you can manage all the female attention. I’d get too tired of having to interact that much,”

“It does get bothersome sometimes. I used to love it, but now I think I’d prefer to have only one girl's attention, you know?”

“Ah, the development of a teenage male. From boyhood to maturity. All ready to settle down,” suddenly you gasped dramatically, almost making Oikawa drop the snacks he had bought. “A Ferris wheel! How did they get a Ferris wheel here!?”

“Y/n, I don’t think I’d trust that. It looks a little old,”

“Old shmold! Let’s go on!” Without a moment to protest you were dragging Oikawa by the hand to the big ride. “Woah! I can see the field yard from here!”

“Y/n! Please don’t lean out the side like that. You’re gonna fall!”

“Oh, you mean like this?” you asked and leaned out,”

“Y/n!” he said, reaching for you.

“What? Are you scared” you asked, and started rocking the box. He grabbed you and forced you to sit still beside him, like a mother to her rambunctious child.

“You’ve lost your fun privileges. Sit still until the ride is over,” you couldn’t help but laugh at him. You wondered if rides were a fear of his or if it was just Ferris wheels. Either way, it was fun to be out like this. You guys only ever really interacted at school during classes or studying. “Hey, Y/n. I think you should rethink going to my next game. I think I’d play better if you were there,”

“Why would you need to play better? You already win don’t you?” by this time the wheel had stopped and it was time to get off. You left the ride with a ‘thank you’ to the person running it and continued on.

“It’s less about the winning and more about… Y/n, would you just listen for a sec?” he grabbed your hand and pulled you back nearer to him. You blinked twice, looking down at where his hand didn’t leave yours.

“Kawa?” he started running his thumb over your knuckles nervously, his eyebrows knitting together in conflict.

“I want to see you at my games. I don’t care if I win, I just want to see you wearing my jersey number at my games,”

“What do you…” this wasn’t… was it?

“Earlier, I was wondering if you were gonna show up to the kissing booth at some point today. But now I’m realizing I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because now it feels more genuine,” he looked up at you, into your eyes, it felt invasive, uncomfortable, but not altogether unwelcomed. “Y/n. Can I kiss you?”

“I…” but the decision was clear to you then. “Yes.”

Sure enough, you were at his next game, the number one displayed proudly on your back.

#oikawa x reader #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa tooru #hq oikawa #oikawa fluff #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq x reader #hq fluff #oikawa hq #aoba johsai #volleyball #anime #fanfiction #anime x reader #female reader #x reader #seijoh #seijoh school #aoba josai x reader #aoba josai school #Blue castle school #blue castle x reader

[heartfullofleeches]

There once was a Witch

Perfect Sweet Revisted Teaser

A teaser for an upcoming fic involving a Candy Witch (Gender Neutral) Reader and Yandere Candy Land. Enjoy-

-

There once was a witch.

The first of her kind.

“A candy witch? What a silly idea!” 

 She was sure to disagree. 

“It’s my magic. Shouldn’t I have a say in its use? If I can’t do for myself first, I haven’t the heart to do a thing for anyone at all!” 

The witchling was the youngest in a lineage of powerful witches dating back to the founding days of their cozy little town. Her mother was the town healer in her prime and her mother’s great-grandmother fertilized the ground for which their town was built upon. The little witch had big shoes to fill, but neither fret nor shied away from what fate had decided. No – she outright rejected it , and sought to fill her dreams and goals much closer to home - right in the pit of her bottomless stomach. 

If the girl had one claim to fame before her prime, it had to be her enormous sweet tooth. She started her days with two spoonfuls of sugar, and three more by noon. She was not tied to the restriction of the human diet and did as she pleased to satisfy her endless craving. 

“Even tragedy can be sweet if it’s paired with the right treat.” – A saying she swore to remain true to, but behind closed doors the little witch could not carry her own words to heart. As the days of her coronation drew near, she became aware of the whispers around town – how self and cruel she was for abandoning tradition and her people. The kind faces she’d known all her years slowly turned spiteful and bitter – spurning her ambitions, and her turning her back on the community that raised her. The young witch wore a brave face, but behind closed doors she was not as bold as she seemed. She cried and cried, swallowing sugar and honey to ease her pain.

Due to constant ridicule and mockery, the little witch would have given up on everything had it not been for that one person.

On the eve of a new moon, there was a knock at her window. The young child of the town baker came to her with a task capable for her talents alone. With an influx of orders their parents had forgotten to bake a cake for their child’s birthday. Used to the treatment they did not wish to go another year without celebration and fled in the dead of night to the only source who could aid in their troubling times. 

The little witch could hardly hide her annoyance. Lack of a party was one thing, but no celebratory desserts to make up for it? No cake? Pie? Not even sweet bread? What fools the human had the misfortune of calling their parents. Could their kind do nothing without the help of hers? 

Against her own volition, she acted from the kindest of her heart and sought to fulfill their desperate plea. The little witch brought the young baker into her home, and through the night the two created the most extravagant birthday cake the baker nor anyone in town had ever seen. The excitement they expressed wasn’t held by them alone. The little witch had more fun baking with them than she ever had with a member of her blood. The gratitude and joy on the human’s face was something she had never seen before. Something strange. It made her feel odd. They must have slipped poison into her dish, but even that didn’t seem right. 

They treated her as a lifelong friend though their alliance began that very night where it should have ended. Being with that human gave her a toothache unlike any sugary treat could. As their bond grew, the witch would gradually learn that what she tasted that fateful eve was the start of something true. That human cracked the icy cage sheltering her fragile heart and woke her to new desires. 

She wanted to see them smile again. She wanted to make others happy in hopes it’d give her that same strange feeling in her stomach again. She’d never feel that exact  spark from anyone besides her new found friend, but the warmth in her chest was powerful to keep her newfound goals onward. 

The little witch and the baker’s child were inseparable from that day on. The pair grew as one - perfecting the recipes passed down to the young baker and adding a few of their own to the mix. They shared their creations with the town to prove the witch’s dreams were true as any other. Many still opposed, but they could not turn a blind eye to the duo’s efforts. The day of her awakening came and the young witch remained true to her heart – supported by her dearest friend who created an entire buffet of sweets to celebrate their second happiest day together.

Balancing magic and her culinary skills, the then adult witch unlocked feats far beyond that of her ancestors. A witch’s heart was their most powerful tool, and hers was filled with the love she held for sweets, her town, and the baker who changed everything for her. They flourished right alongside her into a kind, strong hearted individual, and later took over their parents' bakery as was tradition in their family. Just as she owed her success to them, they could do little without the aid of their favorite witch and invited her to take ownership with them. She’d be a fool to refuse their offer.

Perfecting her craft in all corners, the witch discovered what wonders her sweets could truly possess with a sprinkle of magic – some more groundbreaking than others, but nonetheless spectacular. Cupcakes that turn hair the same color as their frosting. Hard candies that could cure most illnesses. Cookies that would grant the eater’s truest wish with a single bite. She created an entire house made of sugar and sweetness for her and her dearest friend to live in. The townspeople who relied on the witch’s magic were amazed by the fruit of her hard labor, and the baker couldn’t be prouder which made the witch happier beyond compare. They noticed how hard she worked and only wished there was more they could do for her. The demands of the people piled in by the day, and though she wore a smile everyday they could see the cracks. The witch merely laughed off their worries, and carried on as usual. 

She was happy. They were happy. Everyone in the whole town was happy – but the happy days wouldn’t last forever unless the baker did something to aid the woman they loved. 

Rumors floated around town of normal humans becoming powerful witches over time. They say it only took a brave heart, a dedicated mind, and a wish. What people didn’t was that there was a fourth element involved. The second most important in a witch’s survival.

A strong body.

The baker pleaded with the witch to allow them to learn magic beside her. She had never been able to say no to them. The baker was a natural. Once she deemed them ready to practice, the human would master spells even she had difficulty with. It was no surprise to her considering their passions were one in the same, and if anyone was truer to their ambitions than her it was them. Together, the two were unstoppable. Untouchable. They worked off each other’s weaknesses and knew the other better than they knew themselves.

Which is why the witch was the first to notice. 

It began with a cough. The weather had grown quite chilly so neither thought much of it. A few of the witch’s homemade remedies and they felt good as new. Then - they began sleeping in. They went under spells of fatigue from the littlest tasks. Soon enough, they couldn’t even hold a spoon. 

The witch tried every spell in the book to save them. She took on the manning the shop alone so they were able to rest. It was the loneliest she had felt in years, but she’d do anything to save the human she loved. In the end, it was all for nothing. 

They died in their sleep while she was away from home – fulfilling the wishes of others while hers died alone at home.

The witch did everything she could.

She cried.

She begged.

She ate till her stomach felt like it was going to burst. 

To ease the pain, to bring them back - but even she could not raise the dead.

The cookies she shoved down her throat tasted bland and stale. Nothing was sweeter than the kisses the baker placed to her cheek every morning. She never got to tell them. She never had the chance to express her true feelings.

The witch screamed. 

Tore her hair out and cursed whatever horrible force that bound her to this fate. Made her weak. 

Please….

She cried over and over. 

Take me instead.

Don’t leave me here all alone.

 I can’t do this without you.

You said you’d never leave me.

Why?...

Please…

DON’T LEAVE ME! 

The townspeople gave her time to grief. It was the only mercy they gave. The knocking began. Their whispers slipped beneath her door. They asked her for more. She’d given them everything. Her heart, her love, her sweet, foolish baker- yet they still wanted more.

Selfish.

Greedy.

Cruel.

That’s all their kind had ever been. They took and took until there was nothing left. No… There was still one thing. She wasn’t going to let them take the shattered pieces. She refused to let them walk over her as they had trampled those before her. She’d take back everything they stole and more. She’d create a world catered to her desires. A place made of cinnamon and sugar, with subjects molded from the same ingredients and just as sweet. Creations who’d love and obey her for the rest of eternity. What the witch didn’t know…

Was they’d betray her worst of all. 

.

.

.

“Alright…. I think that’s enough for one year….”

“Awww.. but we nearly reached the end this time, didn’t we?”

“Yes, but – are you really sure this is something you want to hear on your birthday? It’s a pretty tale…” 

“Of course! I want to know everything about you, Sweets. Even old fairy tales in older, duster cookbooks.” 

“Hahaha, Fine….. Stay with me another year and we’ll finish it – I promise.”

“Better wish real hard then…. Who knows how many we have left.” 

.

.

.

“Help me…..”

…

“Help!” 

#perfectly sweet #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #wip #unfinished

[copperbadge]

For New Year's eve I decided I would cook myself some traditional Roman Jewish dishes, partly as an excuse to fry an artichoke. Eventually, I created a menu for myself, the Festa Alla Cinque Cibi or "Feast of the Five Foods" which I talk more about here (scroll down, I promise there's a translation). I decided to stretch the cooking over two days, in part because it's a lot to cook in one day and in part so that if something went wrong I'd have time to correct.

This is the first one I worked on (to give the dough time to rest in the fridge while I made the amaretti) but it will be the dessert course eventually. It's a dish I wanted to try in Rome but didn't get the chance to: Crostata Ricotta e Visciole, ricotta cheesecake baked in a sweet crust with sour cherries. There are a number of variations; I chose this recipe which seemed simple but reasonably accurate. I substituted Bon Maman cherry preserves for the sour cherries, but otherwise the recipe was made as written. AND I got to use my new ten-cup food processor to make the dough!

I called it Crostata Di Due Gatti (Two Cat Pie) for self-evident reasons. I'm only a little bummed I forgot to take a picture of it with the cheese filling on top of the cherry before I put the top crust on.

The bake took longer than 50 minutes to brown the crust, and I have a few suspicions about whether the recipe actually tested those weight measures before throwing them in there. The whole thing was still a little jiggly when I took it out of the oven after 70 minutes. But the thermometer said the interior was above 150F, and because I'm not eating it until tomorrow, I won't know if the cheese filling actually set until I crack it open, which should be a fun surprise.

Conveniently it used three egg yolks, because the next recipe I'm going to post in a bit needed three egg whites...

[ID: Several images from my kitchen. The first shows my new food processor with flour in it, and a small cheerful mixing bowl with a whisk in it where the egg yolks were beaten. The second image shows the dough in the food processor, having come together nicely. In the next row is an image of the dough wrapped in clingfilm, waiting to rest in the fridge; an image of the dough having been pressed into its baking pan, with most of a jar of cherry preserve in the bottom; and a photo of the pie with the crust atop it, shiny with egg wash, with two crust cutouts of cats on top of the plain crust. The final image shows the end result, a baked pie with a golden crust, jam oozing through the edges here and there.]

#sam cooks #food #cheesecake #festa alla cinque cibi

[giggle-bee]

Triple Threat (Squealing Santa 2023!)

Hi, @hakurei-k, I'm your Santa for this year! Sorry this is a little late, but I hope you still enjoy it! It was a challenging prompt since I don't typically write intense stuff with multiple lers, but it was a fun fic to do, and I'm so happy I got you!! I also want to thank @squealing-santa, Hypah, for being such an amazing host!! Couldn't have done it without you, thank you for keeping the tradition alive!

(Ler!Barbatos, Ler!Solomon, Ler!Simeon, Lee!MC)

Warnings: pranks, suprise tickles

Summary: Barbatos has a day off but doesn't know how to spend it. How better to than with you? Mediating a prank war wasn't in the plans, though.

Word Count: 1.8k

When Diavolo had first approached Barbatos about taking the day off, he was against the idea. “My Lord, the New Year’s celebration is not far away. The castle must be prepared for guests, there is much work to be done-” “Exactly my thoughts! You’ve been working tirelessly, my friend, you deserve some time to yourself. It’s my castle, I want to have part in the decorating! Besides, I know you’ve been keeping an eye on that new tea house. Take the day and relax, Barbatos.”

Diavolo patted him on the back and left Barbatos standing in his office, lost for words and with a blank mind for the first time in a while. For anyone else, the opportunity would be a blessing, to leave your duties behind and pay attention to the parts of your life neglected. All Barbatos could think about was the castle in a state of disarray, clashing colors, decorations strewn haphazardly about the place, anything less than perfect was not acceptable.

However, Diavolo’s pout if he figured out Barbatos was still working during his break was too heartbreaking to think about. Barbatos sighed, pulling out his DDD and pulling up his messages with you.

Barbatos MC, would you like to join me at Witch’s Brew this afternoon? My schedule has been cleared. 

MC Oh? Is that the new tea place across from Majolish? I would love to!

Barbatos Alright. See you at noon. 

Witch’s Brew was a quaint shop that sold both loose leaf teas, tea sets, and delicious desserts. To a demon like Barbatos, it was heaven. The aroma of dried flowers and warmth tickled his nose as he opened the door, sitting down at a small table with a candle in the middle. It was peaceful here, soft music playing over the speakers and setting a light ambience to the space. Ordering some tea for the both of you would be his first order of business. The fragrant notes of hibiscus and lemon called to him from behind the counter, he would bring it back to the table piping hot and waiting. 

A smile came across his lips as he imagined you taking the first sip, your eyes lighting up at the sweet flavor- rich and floral with a hint of tart to balance it. The thought was almost as sweet as you were. The tinkling of the doorbell made Barbatos glance up hopefully from his cup, eyes alight when he saw you. But you weren’t carefree and jubilant as usual. He picked up on the nervous glances you were sending around the room, your hesitant steps towards the table, and most of all, you hadn’t greeted him with so much as a smile yet. Quite unusual. 

“Ah, hello Barbatos! Sorry I’m late,” you whispered, smoothing your clothes and sitting in the chair he pulled out for you. The demon cocked an eyebrow at your behavior, instantly analyzing your expression. He knew something was up.

“Would you like to tell me what is obviously bothering you? You look like someone is out to get you.”

“Ahaha… well…” You scratched your arm, averting your gaze and peering down into the teacup. “You could say that.” You chose to elaborate on the prank war currently going on in Purgatory Hall, the one you had started a week ago. Luke had voted on staying out of things, which meant you, Solomon, and Simeon would have to prank amongst yourselves.

Pulling out all the stops this morning, you had set up several pillows to fall onto Simeon’s head, covering him in feathers. You had swiped one of Solomon’s singing potions earlier in the week and mixed it into a batch of cookies, which had him singing curses for the next hour. You had found these harmless pranks extremely funny, but both Solomon and Simeon were sure to get you back. 

“So that’s why I have to stay vigilant! They could be anywhere, Barbatos, I have to keep a lookout,” you explained, taking a sip of your tea. The flavor was complex and delicate, a nice reprieve from the chaos going on with your friends. You melted into the warm drink, nodding at the teapot, “This was a good pick, thank you for letting me try it!”

Barbatos shook his head with a fond smile. He knew you were “I believe tea is better when shared in good company, so it’s my pleasure.” Pouring you two another cup, he thought on your predicament. If Solomon and Simeon were working together, it could spell disaster for everyone in Purgatory Hall.

Humming in thought, Barbatos finished his tea and set the cup down gently onto a saucer. “Can I escort you back? Like I said, my schedule is clear for the day, so it would be no trouble. That way, you won’t have to worry about anything on your way,” he offered. Barbatos knew they would never do anything to harm you, but if it would make you feel better, it was worth it.

You perked up, relief washing over your face. “I would appreciate it, those two like to scare me as much as it is.”

Taking a dessert to go, you and Barbatos left the teahouse and started the journey back to the House of Lamentation. On the way, you talked about everything from next year’s classes to Satan’s newest cat adoption antics. Barbatos felt at ease talking to you, as he always did. His worries for the celebration faded with every step as he let you take the wheel of the conversation. Before you knew it, you two were on the doorstep. 

“Thank you for walking me here, Barbs. We need to do this again sometime!” You opened the door and were about to wave goodbye when two arms pulled you into the foyer. Barbatos quickly moved inside, surprised by the sight that greeted him. 

Solomon and Simeon had trapped you in their arms, encircling you like twin felines playing a game of cat and mouse. Solomon’s deadly smirk was something you knew all too well, paired with Simeon’s laughing eyes, they had been out to get you from the start. “You fell right into our trap, MC~” Simeon purred in your ear, watching your eyes flit between the trio of people in the room. Well, one human, one angel, and one demon. The mischievous fire in Solomon’s eyes appeared anything *but* human to you in this moment. 

Solomon looked to the demon at the door, “What do you think is a fitting punishment for our friend here, Barbatos?” 

Barbatos slowly stepped forward until he was in front of you three, assessing the situation. “Seeing as they’ve confessed their transgressions to me already, I believe something… like this will suffice,” Barbatos reasoned, grinning at your shocked face.

“Barbatos! You’re supposed to be on my side- HEY!” Barbatos wormed his hand between you and Simeon to give your side a squeeze, making you curl into Solomon. Simeon started to snicker at the idea, using his free hand to scribble around your neck while Solomon’s smile grew wolfish. “I think that’s a great idea, don’t you think so, MC?” 

You were trying not to react to Simeon’s gentle scribbles, your cheeks puffing out and your lips pouting to hide your smile. “N-no! Not a great idea! Barbatos- help me!”

Raising an eyebrow, the demon tilted his head to the side, “You want me to help? Alright, I can manage that. After all, I have no obligations today, I can spend as much time as I want here.”

Barbatos latched onto your sides, kneading into them with sudden speed and vigor that you weren’t prepared for. Your straight faced facade went flying out the window as you tried to wiggle away from the tickles to no avail. Solomon and Simeon seemed to have the same idea, the angel’s fingers finding a home in your armpits and Solomon’s squeezing at your hipbones. “WHAHAHAIT! NOhOHoO!” 

You had endured tickle attacks from all three of them separately, but together, the trio was insufferably good at reducing you to a laughing fit. They continued to scribble and poke all over your worst spots, Simeon finding a good spot on your lower tummy that almost sent you backwards. Every time you got used to something, one of them would move, sending you into giggles all over again. 

“I almost forgot how ticklish they are! Solomon, keep that up,” Simeon laughed with delight at how you squirmed away from Solomon’s evil hands that were currently chasing your ribs. “If I were you, I would stay still- it would be done a looooot faster!” Solomon chirped from your left, tazing your ribs and making you fall into Barbatos’s waiting arms.

“Your laugh is almost as sweet as the tea, you know,” Barbatos whispered quietly, kneading into your lower back and sides, chuckling when you tried to pull away with a blush. Simeon gasped and excitedly pulled you away, hugging you tight against his chest. 

“Theres this thing I used to do to Luci when he would misbehave, let me show you!” He closed his eyes and you felt invisible feathers gliding across your ears and neck, making you scrunch up. The feathers seemed to reach all of your worst spots, soft but they tickled like hell. When you felt one graze the bottom of your foot, you squeaked in surprise, how was this even possible? Simeon’s laugh sounded like bells, contrasting with your loud and squealy one. “I cAhAHaAHaN’t! PlEHehAHeaSe!” 

He slowed down the feathers of his wings to softly stroke up and down your arms, letting you collapse into him. Solomon ruffled your hair, “You all tired out? I think it’s payback for making me sing through all of breakfast. Simeon looked like a fancy chicken this morning,” he laughed. Simeon rolled his eyes, “Did you learn your lesson, MC? Never mess with Purgatory Hall, or you’ll awaken the tickle monsters that live there!” He tapped your nose, taking note of your lingering smile and flushed cheeks. He grinned and gave you a hug, releasing you. 

Barbatos had his hands behind his back, almost like he hadn’t contributed to your ticklish demise. “The cake is still outside, would you like me to bring it in?” His sly smirk didn’t go unnoticed, you nodded, rolling your eyes. “You were supposed to help me!”

“I never said I would help you. Besides, I think you deserved a little prank back for the ones you performed,” he noted, bringing the slice of matcha cake inside. 

With a sigh, you took the bag, holding out the delectable sweet. “How about a truce? Do you guys wanna split this?” All three of them nodded, causing you to smile. As you made your way towards the den, Barbatos concluded that his day off was a day well spent.

#squealing santa 2k23 #ss2k23 #obey me tickles #obey me tickle fic #ler!barbatos #ler!solomon #ler!simeon #lee!mc #lee!reader #honey #bee writes