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fantasylandloser · 24 days

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Winner

Pairing: Coach!Tashi x fem!Reader x Coach!Art

Warnings: 18+, smut, too filled with shame to proofread, dom!tashi, sub!art, sub!reader, mentions of spanking, tashi is so mean in this, art is basically a prop with minimal lines, idk

*******

Training with Tashi Duncan and her husband was an honor. You knew that. You did your very best to remember that; which was hard to do when she had days like this.

“Are you scared of the fucking ball?” You shake your head, but you know better than that at this point.

“Speak up!” You flinch before you can stop yourself.

“No, I'm not scared of the ball.” You say.

“I would hope not- considering how long you’ve been doing this. That’d surely be a disappointment to your little fan club that you love so much. “ Tashi watched the way your eyebrows tinge only for a moment, at the mention of the onlookers who follow your career closely.

It was no secret that you had a great appreciation for the love that they’d shown you, but it was almost like you were completely unaware of how quickly it would be gone if you weren’t up to par at all times.

From afar Art watched the scene play out. You were the player that Tashi was the hardest on. He was sure it was to do with the fact that you were just like her. Well except for the fact that you lacked confidence in your abilities. Another reason she was hard on you. She wouldn’t see your potential wasted. But you worked hard like her, tennis was the love of your life like her.

He watched as Tashi served to you, intense and laser focused. Then you, playing back with the same intensity and just as passionate. It’s almost magical to watch until you hesitate and miss the ball.

Tashi’s on your ass before the ball can even hit the ground. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you in it?”

You stammer a reply that Art can’t hear. Probably an apology. His feet are moving closer before he can even think of a reason why.

“No, tell me. What’s got you so off your game lately? Because you’re not going to fucking embarrass me at your next matches because you can’t get your head out your ass.”

“Tash lighten up.” He’s ignored which is to be expected. She stares at you intensely awaiting your answer.

“How am I supposed to lighten up when she’s playing like she never held a racket before, huh?” Again she sees the twitch in your eyebrows. Good, you’re angry.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know-” Tashi holds up her hand. She doesn’t want your apology.

“You know what- if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is,” She grabs your phone which has been continuously lighting up since you started. “I’m sure this will.’

You draw in a breath of air in surprise but you make no move to stop her. Your eyes wide at the invasion, but still ever so respectful even when your privacy is being violated.

Almost immediately her eyebrows sprout up. “I thought we agreed on no boyfriends for this reason?” she shakes her head continuing to scroll through your phone as if it were hers. Art draws closer to her in interest, now intrigued about your phone as well,

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You’re embarrassed, your grip on your racket tightening as you get angry at the way she’s shaming you.

“Obviously.” She mutters. She pauses a moment, both her and Art sharing a look and you know they’ve gotten to the most mortifying part.

“Well if something would shake someone’s confidence it would be that.” You cringe, finally going to take your phone back only to be pushed back by Tashi.

“What did we talk about when it came to how you let people talk to you off the court and how it affects your game on the court?” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes.

“I can’t control what other people say” You can’t stop the edge in your voice.

“But you can control what you say. You didn’t even try to stand up for yourself. This-” She shoves the phone at you with a picture of you half naked with the word unfuckable, in the center of the screen. “Is pathetic. “ You look away when she starts scrolling more like you don’t already know the rest of the verbal assault that had been issued towards you, and then a video of your so-called boyfriend with your next opponent and the lewd graphics that came with it.

“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You don’t mean for your response to be so angry. Or for the hot tears that started burning your eyes to fall. But the frustrations of your day had started to take a toll on you. So when you finally snatch your phone back from Tashi and get ready to storm off you miss the pleased look on her face. Art doesn’t though, he almost shakes his head knowing it was her intention to rile you up in the first place.

She raises an eyebrow at him, and just as she expects him to, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. The perfect good cop. “It’s okay, kid.” You’re tense in his arms, it reminds him of the times he’s tried to comfort Tashi and she wouldn’t allow it, but after a few moments of him rubbing your back you finally relax. .

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start, but Tashi interrupts.

“Apologize for standing up for yourself and I’ll make you run until you pass out.” You wipe your eyes roughly and nod. Stepping away from Art’s hug and trying your best to put your game face back on.

“You got that out of your system now?” You nod again, but after a pointed gaze you speak.

“Yes.”

“Good now let’s talk about how you respond to this kind of bad sportsmanship.”

******

The outfit Tashi has you in, is just barely appropriate, You look focused, despite the whistles you’ve received on your way in. You look a little angry actually.

Art glances at Tashi beside him, who looks all too pleased. “What’d you do?”

“I didn’t have to do anything.” She’s almost bragging. He follows her line of sight to Tashi’s opponent and sees her and your not boyfriend smirking at you.

He wants to ask Tashi if she thinks this will shake your confidence more, but then he looks back at you laser focused as you stretch and he decides not to question it.

The match starts off intense with your serve. Your opponent looks surprised and even though she quickly recovers. Art can tell that this will be a win for you even though he knows Tashi despises that kind of over confident thinking.

As the match continues Tashi is gripping her seat for support. So enthralled in the game and invested in the fearlessness you’re displaying she can barely contain herself.

At one point during a break you’re caught trash talking your opponent. Tashi is sure to get you for it later. Even though the only thing she hears clearly is “enjoy my sloppy seconds” with a saccharine smile on your face. The deduction you receive is definitely worth it.

When you win as expected. Tashi is nearly buzzing and Art can’t hold back his excitement either.

****

“See this is what happens when you’re a winner.” Tashi tells you. She quite literally holding Art’s balls as he fucks into you.

“Winners are fuckable, tell her Art.” He gasps, feeling her squeeze him.

“Fuck-” He breathes. “Did so good.” You spasm around him at the praise, pulling a loud groan from him. “Knew you were gonna win, kid.”

Your whines and whimpers are muffled by Tashi’s hand. “Fuck her faster, she’s gonna come.” Art obeys immediately despite the fact that he is much too close himself. Your eyes roll back at the change of pace.

“There you go.” She squeezes Art’s balls once you start cumming so that he can too. He tries to pull himself out of you before but he can’t and leaves a sticky mess all over your cunt. “Fuck”

Tashi mounts you before you can stop twitching, lining her pussy up with yours, holding your leg over her shoulder. “Now next time I tell you to do something,, you’ll listen to me.” She starts slowly, spreading the mixture of both you and Art’s orgasm on both of you.

“Isn’t that right?” You nodding makes her speed up, giving you that look of disapproval.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, yes I’ll listen to you.”

“Yeah I know you will, because now you know what good girls get.” She continues to grind against you skilfully.

“And next time you don’t listen to me-” You feel your core tense up again. “I will spank you until you cry.” Just like that you’re gone again. The masochistic side of you envisioning the picture that will haunt your fantasies until you get it.

You don’t realize the loud moan you hear is you, until Art is kissing you sloppily to silence your cries. ‘You like that don’t you?” You hear Tashi say. You want to tell her yes but you can’t with Art’s tongue down your throat. You think she knows the answer anyway.

The contrast between the way that Tashi is fucking you so vigorously and the slow kisses Art is giving you puts your head in a spin. On top of that your overstimulated clit is making it hard for you to think at all.

“Coach please-” You beg. “My pussy can’t;” You’re cut off immediately.

“Who knows what's best for you? Me or you?”

“You!” By this time tears are flowing down your face, as you feel another orgasm building all too quickly. Art wipes them, then moves his hands down to pinch your nipples.

“Exactly. Now cum.”

#challengers #tashi duncan #tashi donaldson #art donaldson #art donaldson smut #art donaldson x reader #tashi x art #tashi x reader #tashi x art x reader #tashi duncan smut #fantasylandloserfic

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peachypede · 5 months

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Au: What if humans had pokemon types?

The idea struck me after seeing some of @bluebellowl ‘s art of Ingo and Emmet wielding flames and electricity and I was thinking ooo what if humans had typings.

Then I made an au with a bunch of headcanons…

More below the cut

(Almost forgot to add that I took some inspo from @critterbitter ‘s Elesa hairstyle because I love how they draw her hair in the back all spiky, electricy like in some of their drawing just yes)

- most humans are purely 1 type, but a rare person may have a dual typing. (Ingo and Emmet are dual types that cover their least publicly liked typing with their more favorable type)

- Some types are more stigmatized and feared than others for have abilities/features that are frightening: Bug, Ghost, Psychic, Poison and Dark types are the 5 most stigmatized groups.

- Most humans have very small or weak abilities, but some are capable of amazing feats.

- Humans tend to favor pokemon partners that share their typings since it’s easier to connect and communicate but some people do like opposite or different typings.

- When babies are born, they’re given a test to see what type they are so their parents will know how to handle their abilities.

- Each types abilities include:

Normal - Sadly, this typing doesn’t get much special abilities. They’re normal humans. A very, very rare normal type can send a hyper beam out of their mouth.

Fire - Can control small flames and are fire resistant. They can warm their bodies up to feverish temperatures without being sick. Some can breathe fire and have flame like hair. Fire types often have irrational fears of water.

Water - They can control small amounts of water. Their skin gets dried out easily and they have to take showers frequently or have humidifiers in their homes. A few individuals have gills that allows them to breathe fully underwater.

Grass - They can breathe life into plants and cause flowers to bloom. If they have a garden, they’ll produce giant and delicious fruit. Some can make plants move on their own, but this is a rare ability. When happy, a lot of grass-type people will sprout plants on their heads. Some even have plant like hair.

Electric - Able to cause small electric shocks and store bits of electricity. Can turn off and on appliances without touching them. Those who take time to learn can communicate with electric Pokémon using the electrical language all electric types know. They can also talk to humans in electric language who are electric types as well.

Ice - Freezing to the touch and tolerant to below zero temps. They can freeze the surface of water by touching their hand to it. They’re a rare type that hardly leave frosty mountain cities and towns because they’re prone to overheating in warmer weather.

Fighting - Stronger than other humans, but few reach true inhumane strength. Rare individuals have an extra set of arms like Machamp. Most take pride in their strength and hone their skills their entire lives.

Poison - Immune to poisons, some even have poisonous breath or saliva. Most of them have to wear masks around people who aren’t fellow poison types. Some individuals have multicolored skin, like frogs warning others that they’re dangerous. People of this type like steel types, because they can remove their masks for once around these people who are immune to them.

Ground - Can feel vibrations in the ground and if they learn, can properly use this as another sense of sight and see things underground. Rare individuals can make the ground shake and have long claws for digging. Some families are known for living underground where they feel more at ease.

Flying - they have a very keen eye for long distance sight. Lots of people with this type have wings. Not all can fly, since one needs large wings and hollow bones to do so, but some can. Most however are gliders. Some have feathers instead of body hair.

Psychic - People with this type usually have one “talent” ability, such as levitating objects or seeing the future. It’s rare for an individual to have more than one of these talents but it has happened before. They’re seen as power houses amongst the other types for their special abilities and usually are seen offering their services in exchange for coin.

Bug - They can attract a lot of bug type pokemon to them via pheromones and with practice, they can even control them. Like ants, bug types can talk through pheromones like alerting to danger, creating trails, or even just generally talking like electric types do (its not all just attracting mates although bugs are more likely to be attracted to other bug people) Grass types dislike the smell of bug types, whereas flying types get hungry around them. Rumor has it that bugs can control others through their pheromones but its just a rumor. Pheromones make it easy to persuade, but can’t truly control people.

Rock - They have skin as tough as rocks and most can dig through rock itself. Rare people look like a cluster of rocks themselves. They dislike water since it erodes away their skin, so they take mud baths and showers instead.

Ghost- Many can float above the ground and go through walls. Similar to ice types, They are cold to the touch. They can see ghost type pokemon even if they are invisible. Rare abilities are being able to see and commune with human spirits. (And only once a century is there an individual who has truly open eyes and can see the entire world of the dead walking amongst the living) People who fear this type spread rumors that ghost types are evil and can raise the dead to do their bidding, but these are only rumors.

Dragon - Noble types that are descended from long blood lines. A lot of individuals have scales and wings and claws. Rare ones can breathe fire. Once in every 100 years there will be a dragon-type who can communicate and wield their type’s pokemon with high efficiency, even mighty legendaries. Families of dragons can be very prideful and look down on other types. Noble families don’t like their children mingling or marrying other types.

Dark - A stigmatized group to the point that their typing is labeled as the “evil” type in some languages. Many have a bad luck effect on the people around them and some can sense disasters before they happen. Dark types often are lonely because of their bad luck charm abilities make other people wary of them.

Steel - Most in this group have skin that shines like a type of metal and are able to bend metals in their hands. They’re immune to poison and bug types abilities, and often are friends with these stigmatized types because of this.

Fairy - This group have small magical abilities and unluck the dark type, they have a lucky effect around them. Some individuals have wings, some have unnaturally colored hair. Fairies have a high social standings with other types because they’re thought to do nothing wrong, when fairies actually often have trouble makers in the midst of them taking advantage of this.

#au: human types #submas #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #gym leader elesa #peachy draws #its been a bit since an au has made me this excited but ye!

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stellar-skyy · 2 months

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hello!! could i order an iced honey and vanilla tea for aventurine?

“order up! i have a drink here for aventurine, an iced honey and vanilla tea!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: sometimes, all you need is to feel loved. and, as his closest friend, he will make sure you know you are. ii. CWS & NOTES: reader is insecure. platonic aventurine x gn!reader. hurt/comfort & fluff. 0.8k words. iii. A/N: i was so excited to see someone rq the platonic version of this prompt! also. please know this is my first time writing aventurine and i haven't played most of the penacony questline (i have been spoiled for the entire thing though-) so if the characterization is off i am sorry.

“Why are you friends with me?”

It caught Aventurine off guard, truth be told. For a moment he could only blink, staring at them dumbly while the question fully registered in his head. After a few seconds of processing, he managed a single word: “What?”

“Why are you friends with me?” They repeated, a tinge of frustration coating their words. The question settled in his mind, but still, he was at a loss for words.

How could he possibly answer that, when the two of them had been acquainted for so long that his life and theirs seemed fully intertwined? The question only planted the seed for more to sprout in his mind as he pondered it; whys melting into hows and what ifs. He struggled to imagine a life where he’d never met them all those years ago, a life where he never found someone to dull his sharpened edges and fill some fraction of the emptiness he felt inside.

They were a match that fit too perfectly; two lonely people, who’d tasted a life without solitude and couldn’t quite bring themselves to leave it behind again.

Yet, their friendship was a double-edged sword, one seemed to cut Aventurine from both sides. It took every ounce of self-control in his body to stop himself from digging his claws in and clinging tightly enough to them to make sure they wouldn’t leave. Simultaneously, another part yearned to push them so far away that he would never be able break them like he did with every other bright thing in his life. The thought of being alone again felt suffocating, even if the back of his mind still whispered that it was only his deserved fate.

On good nights, when they were at the tables with him, he insisted they were seated right beside him—his “good luck charm,” as he put it. He chased every moment, the flash of a smile on their lips when the dice roll just right, a barely stifled laugh at his jokes. No victory could outshine the few moments of pure, untainted contentment he felt when they were by his side.

It was almost laughable that they were questioning why he’d chosen them, when he was the one who didn’t deserve someone half as incredible as they were. He should be asking why they had settled for someone cracked and missing as many pieces as he did, not the other way around.

“What about you?” He asked, in lieu of an answer. “Why are you friends with me?”

“I already asked you.” They protested. Aventurine, being the good friend he was, ignored them.

“You’ve known me long enough to be acutely aware of my flaws, and yet you still stick around. Why is that?”

“Uh…” They hesitated for a beat. “You’re not—”

“Don’t deny it. Just answer the question.”

“Well, I guess…” They draw out the first few words, thinking. Aventurine kept his face neutral, despite the pounding of his heart. “Flaws are just flaws, aren’t they? I don’t think you could find a single one here that’s without their fair share. You’re still a good person despite them, and I enjoy your company regardless.”

The back of his throat had grown dry. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to quell the wave of emotions that almost swept him off his feet, forcing them back into the furthest reaches of his mind to unpack later.

“See!” He said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Exactly my point, why would you be any different?”

“That’s not what I was saying.” They murmured, shaking their head.

“What is it then?”

“It’s just… I’m not that important, am I?” They asked, not meeting his eyes. “I mean—You have other friends, don’t you? And if you had the choice, I’m sure you’d rather hang out with them than me, wouldn’t you?”

“You want to make that a bet?” Aventurine raised an eyebrow. “Because, my dear friend, that is a gamble you will lose. For starters, who I find important isn’t up to you; it’s up to me. And me has decided you are an incredibly important friend that I value very deeply. You can stew in your self-pity as much as you want, but that won’t change how much I care about you.”

“You really mean that?” They asked, in an almost inaudible whisper.

“Of course. Can I?” He asked, opening his arms out. They looked up briefly, and gave him a small nod, so he pulled them forward against his chest. He hugged them tightly, as if they would vanish into nothing if he let go. Their hand clutched the back of his jacket, their cheek pressing against his shirt.

Neither of them were without their cracks, it seemed, but maybe that was why they had connected in the first place.

“I’m friends with you because I want to be friends with you,” Aventurine said softly. “You mean the world to me, and it kills me that you don’t realize it.”

He knew he was little more than a hollow shell, but with them, he almost felt whole. It was almost enough for him; he could only hope it would be enough for them too.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #ty mhie for beta reading this!#[ interstellar teashop ☆ﾟ. ]#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #platonic hsr x reader #platonic honkai star rail x reader #platonic aventurine x reader

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verysium · 6 months

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how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

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persnicketypomelo · 1 year

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Yandere Tom Riddle x Reader

I will be discussing a reader with a more kind, gentle, and caring perosnality.

Simply put, I don’t see any way that a relationship could form in a healthy, natural way with this man. He inherently thinks others are beneath him, and so people are just tools to be used to benefit his means.

So, perhaps, if you have no real tangible use for Tom’s goal of becoming a powerful wizard, then you can amuse him.

You are his polar opposite: kind and compassionate, empathetic to the feelings of others, and act to alleviate suffering.

In this case, I think that Tom would see you as stupid and weak, but amusing. For this reason, he might “accidentally” cause someone close to you to hurt themselves in some way—maybe they provoke a magical creature into attacking them during class somehow, or maybe they accidentally jinx themselves and cause swells of red, inflamed hives to sprout all over their skin. Nothing too serious.

He draws delight and some twisted hilarity from the way you frantically scurry about as you help your friend to the nurse. It pleases him to be able to cause your otherwise pleasant expression to distort into worry and distress.

Although you are foolish and weak as a witch/wizard, deluded by notions of love and kindness, there can be nothing wrong in toying with you, he reasons.

Should you begin to develop romantic feelings for someone else, I think this is when his more possessive, ugly side would rear its head.

As his property, for that’s how he would view you instead of as a person with their own volition, you really shouldn’t be waltzing around fraternising with other students. It might create the false impression that his things can be…shared…and passed around for everyone’s dirty, filthy hands to handle.

No, no, no. Tom will not be having that.

Not to mention the nasty, sour aftertaste envisioning you enamoured with another leaves in his mouth.

Your crush will be left with some…unpleasant injuries that leave them whimpering and wailing in the Hospital Wing.

Alternatively, their impression of you will sour and rot after some rather unsavoury rumours, so that when you confess, you will be rejected outright. Your crush leaving with a face so disgusted at thought of being with you, that it hurts more than being rejected.

Though, with this method, Tom would still be inclined to leave your crush incapacitated to some degree (even though their foul opinion of you is entirely his doing), as he really doesn’t fancy someone else being able to puppet you and manipulate your emotions and expressions as he does.

Perhaps if he is feeling generous, he will happen to pass by your tear-stricken form.

Perhaps he will pass you a handkerchief embroidered with his initials and murmur insincere and detached words of comfort.

Perhaps he will let you keep the handkerchief, as it is a subtle way of showing others whom you belong to.

Tom will never sway from his ultimate goal of becoming the most powerful and greatest wizard of all time.

But surely it wouldn’t hurt to have a weak, incapable thing such as yourself trailing behind him as a companion either.

#yandere #harry potter #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #headcanon #hcs #reader insert #x reader #tom riddle #voldemort #tom marvolo riddle #obsessive #drabbles #headcannons

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articdelilah · 6 months

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Hello there (●’◡’●)ﾉ may I request a teen(?)! Belle headcanons. The ikemen princes see her as a little sister figure. Maybe she's 14 to 17. It'll be funny to see her act bratty and chaotic to them once she gets comfortable but she does know when to get serious. Loves fun, food, and maybe she finds smth she wants to do while being there. Maybe she wants to be like one of the princes and handle sword, or maybe a doctor. It could be anything tbh, just want to see little sister fluff.

✮ A Little Trouble ✮

Platonic! Ikemen Princes x Teen! Reader

Hi!! Thank you sm for requesting!! I love the idea and I’m sorry if I went a little off the topic of the request💞 I would have finished this yesterday but tumblr deleted my work :,(

I did take on a little more calm approach to the stories so please feel free to request again for anything more specific!

Foreign affairs faction

˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖

Clavis can’t help but burst out laughing when he first saw the girl; giggling about “Is there no pure hearted adults left in Rhodolite?

His interest was peaked however at Sariel’s choice of Belle. This meant that Clavis became Belle’s unofficial guide for the first weeks of her stay.

It wasn’t very long until Belle realised how much Clavis loved to prank his brothers and now her (his newest victim). He loved how the girl could get so bratty and chaotic at times, she was simply so entertaining!

Belle endured the whole list of Clavis’ pranks. Potholes, jumpscares, eating cupcakes with horseradish in them (twice) and the list goes on.

It wasn’t until one day that Belle simply had enough. She screamed at Clavis to leave her alone before slamming the door of her bedroom in his face. It was only a couple seconds later that Clavis’ grin turned to a frown, slowly walking away from the girl’s room.

A couple of days went by without Belle seeing Clavis. It was strangely quiet. No pranks, no laughing and definitely no jumpscares. She started to miss the purple haired man’s light hearted pranks and contagious laughter.

Obviously Clavis hadn’t disappeared, he had to make sure that Belle was safe and comfortable so he watched from afar.

Shreds of colourful paper, markers and washitape sprawled all over the Belle’s bedroom floor. She laid on fluffy cotton rug, kicking her feet in the air as she doodled a drawing of a very familiar purple haired man in the decorated page. It wasn’t long before Belle caught a whiff of vanilla surrounding her and the sound of the door closing caught her attention. She looked up to see Clavis carrying a plate of heart shaped cookies, placing them on the ground next to Belle before plopping to lay down next to her. He started to rip pieces of coloured paper too, sprinkling glitter on every surface of that once white page. Clavis’ paper soon filled with messy handwriting, clumsy drawings and too much glitter and stickers to count. The girl couldn’t help but laugh “I didn’t know you knew other languages!”. Clavis simply chuckled “Clavese is the mosy rare language in the world! Only two people understand it. You can be the third.” Clavis didn’t have to finish his words as the girl’s eyes glistened with excitement and her head nodded quickly.

Chevalier was the most displeased. As you can imagine.

Chevalier had shown no interest in the new Belle. Since she was a teenager, Chevalier saw her as incapable. Going out of his way to ignore her, but Belle wasn’t giving up that easily . She followed Chevalier sometimes, or simply watched as he finished his work for the day.

The new Belle always remembered to ask about his day, if he remembered to eat and even bought cookies that Yves helped her to make for him. If he ‘forgot’ to eat, he would get an earful of why eating was important (as if he was a mere child who didn’t understand the importance of eating).

Chevalier admired the new Belle’s courage to scold the Brutal Beast over things so minor and soon he felt a weakness sprouting in his icy heart. His weakness being her.

He enjoyed how her voice filled the usually cold air of the faction’s office, her giggles and deep analysis over very minor things. She was the only one Chevalier allowed to ramble to him if she so desired.

He trusted her to invite her to his own private library, watching her curious eyes linger on the golden lettering of each book. Books about politics, romance, plays, novellas, poems and much more littered the shelves of the room. This was part of Chevalier’s little world that he was willing to share with Belle.

However, Chevalier didn’t allow Belle to slack at her new job. In fact, he made sure she did all of Sariel’s homework and read the books assigned to her. Sometimes coming into her room with an icy glare which told Belle all she needed to know.

The bright moon was covered by grey fluffy clouds, rays of its light peaking through the ashy curtain. The pink bedroom was dark, only the light of the brightest star shining through to illuminate its light on the yellowed pages of Chevalier’s book. Belle sat on the floor under the window. Earlier the same day, she had expressed her desire to want to understand Chevalier better; wanting to see the world through his eyes. She had asked the man to train her with a sword but she only got a glare in response. Therefore she had taken the liberty to take steal a book of his from his private library. It wasn’t anything she would normally read but it was the first book she grabbed. Her eyes were glued to the page, reading each word intently with furrowed brows. “Draconian? What does that even mean?” She muttered angrily; so focused on the stolen book that she didn’t realised her door was open revealed a tall blonde man standing in its frame. It was only when she heard a noise that sounded oddly like a snort that she looked at the doorway. Her eyes widened but before she could muster an excuse, Chevalier beat her to it and spoke with a small smile-

“Try reading a book written for your age.”

Luke made sure she was protected. I mean, you can’t blame him. A young girl having to live in a dangerous palace? THE SAME YOUNG GIRL THAT IS BELLE AS WELL?? He knew he had to do everything possible to make sure she was safe.

Imagine his happiness when the new Belle confessed her love for food and honey! That was the moment that really brought the two together.

Belle found the way Luke attracted animals as fascinating, trying to bring him to the woods to lure any cute animals or just have a look at them up close.

Due to this, Belle had taken a hobby of drawing the animals she saw around Luke and dreamed of becoming a veterinarian. She knew she had to work hard if she wanted to achieve her goal.

Luke tried his hardest to support Belle with her studies assigned by Sariel. He went as far as trying to study with her but ultimately failing and convincing her to take a nap outside instead.

When she told Luke about how she wanted to learn more about animals, he was very delighted. Due to his talent of attracting them, Belle learnt a lot about all kinds of forest animals.

It was a calm summer afternoon. Bees buzzed from one blooming rose to another, collecting pollen for their hives. As the bees were busy, Luke and Belle were doing quite the opposite. The two laid side by side under a tall oak tree, resting in the shade as if Belle wasn’t supposed to be in one of Sariel’s lessons right now. The golden beams of sunlight peered through the leaves, the sun directly on Belle’s cheek leaving a warm kiss on her skin. They weren’t the only ones resting under this tree however as earlier that day a dog had followed Luke to the palace. The big dog had chosen to spread its shaggy body and large paws on Belle’s lap, making her unable to get up even if she wanted too. “I had this weird dream where I was a bear and you were a bear too” the [H/C] girl began “We were in a cave and I was really cold. But you came and hugged me! I felt much better” she smiled at the sweet dream and Luke couldn’t help return the smile. It was times like these were life felt the way it should; Simple.

Nokto tried to stay away, mostly because of his reputation. He was fine with Belle and engaged in quick chit chat with her but nothing too long.

That was until he was strolling through the Rhodolite gardens when he heard soft crying. He simply couldn’t ignore the sound which led him to find Belle crying on a bench on the far right of the palace.

The 7th Prince sat on the bench with Belle, saying with his usual grin for her stop crying and smile. Belle simply looked up at the man before turning her head away, mumbling that he wouldn’t understand.

After a while of silence, Nokto asked more sincerely. “What’s going on?”. That was when the new Belle started to explain how, while she was happy to be Belle, she had to leave all her friends and family behind. She missed them and fortunately Nokto knew something about missing family.

“They’ll be there when you come back, no need to cry now”.

That day forwards, they started to talk more before kind of became inseparable. Just like twins, communicating by pulling silly faces across the round table or bickering over the best flavour of pie.

Nokto liked Belle’s chaotic personality, he enjoyed picking small fights and such. One of their favourite activities being chasing one another. Loud laughter filling the halls as Belle fell victim to Nokto’s tickling.

It was only when Nokto realised how close they became when he started to laugh. Belle had started to pick up on some of his habits like calling Chevalier ‘King Highness’ and trying to outfox Sariel (unfortunately that didn’t work). He was happy because she was happy.

However sometimes there were moments where no laughter was heard, no smiles shared and no trance of joy between the two.

Quiet steps filled the air of the palace, the sneaky fox trying to escape the place before a small voice stopped him in his tracks. “Nokto!” The voice called out. Nokto turned slowly to the voice, the red moon’s light casting his face in its bloody glow. A moment of silence passed before the cream coloured marble echoed loud clicking from Belle’s hard shoes which she had put on just a minute prior. When she reached the white haired man, the young girl wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. The Prince’s whole body tensed before relaxing and hugging the girl back. No words were needed to make them both understand. She simply had a nightmare, he simply had to stay.

Not proofread and I’m thinking of making a masterlist. Anyways,I hope you enjoyed!! Goodbye my Doves 🕊️

If you like my work, feel free to requests!

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emerxshiu · 1 month

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tw: slight body horror, not much but it still is kinda there (also forgotten land spoilers)

Gemini Reunion

rlly long ramble next cuz i love talking why i did this and that and every detail unfortunately---

WAAAAAAAAHH this is definitly going into my top 3 favourite drawings i made, i didnt think it would end up like this!

i originally had a very simple idea, and well, i can never help myself with overdoing it can i? bad thing is i finished it around 5 am aka i barely slept, but i dont mind it at all, i just have been stupidly motivated to draw like i cant just put my tablet or pencil down for too long. fun fact: this was inspired by a fanart for something unrelated, but it reminded me of fecto and elfilin, and it ended up looking nothing like the inspiration lol

also if you've seen my other posts, yeah, that orb up there is indeed reused from another of my drawings, albeit edited to fit more here, the wings were just sketched as a silly thing, i wasnt planning to keep em but i really liked them. and those dots and lines at the very bottom are morse code indeed.

the two like, things that are between orb and fecto forgo are inspired by the weird like tentacles it uses to absorb the beastpack and elfilin, and also from antares, elfili's spear/cadaceus.

i really need to learn how to actually draw feet, ok i know that the only there is elfilin's with the sock but i actually drew the other one before i decided to make it melt into forgo, talking about melting, i only was going to do around the face, more specifically that chunk you see between its right arm and elfilin's hair was the only one i was really going to have, but then, i made it so the other side of forgo's face is also merging a bit with the hair, and then have one of the fingers of the other hand melt into the neck, and then the end of the tail and then parts of elfilin's legs.

elfilin is doing sign lenguage, it means help, poor guy.

also i really like changing elfilin's hair a bit to show how he feels, like, for example, i sketched him full so the little ahoge he has was also there, but like more stiff to show his fear, but had to erase it due to forgo, i also like doing this with the braid he has, if its like how i tend to draw it, then he a-ok! but here its very much almost undone to show his discomfort, and if its literally not even resembling a braid anymore, just like fully loose, either he was sleeping and the braid was anoying (i cant undestand people who sleep with their hair tied up, its way too uncomfortable), or he's like, really really like not there, like, um bad. i also made his tail a bit sharper and messy than usual.

that light orang-y thing sprouting from elfilin's forehead is based on the horns that fecto elfilis has, fecto forgo also has one here on the opposite side, but that one is more inpired from the horn coming out of leongar's head in the fecto forgo bossfight (yknow the chimera with like amalgamation and stuff)

also, forgo's tail is usually like, folded just like game but sometimes i like to like, extend it? (dunno how to explain) to have more expression and also for it to take more space cuz if its was like normal, it would only really have the upper part and a bit more visible since most of it is behind elfilin. also its not very visible but elfilin has the veins forgo has two in his chipped ear.

i was also going to use the blue eye scheme from when it fist opens its eyes for forgo but decided to go with the ones it has in isolated isles when morpho appears, mostly because they resemble the eyes of the beast pack when it absorbs them, and this drawing is very much inspired by those two cutscenes (Sudden metamorphosis and Gemini reunion ^▾^) i honestly dont know wich one to use for all forgo drawings ill make next, since in that cutscene it looks blue, but its body also looks blue, but its actually pink as indicated by the figurine and cutscenes in isolated isles and the chimera form, and also if you go out of bounds, lab discovera just has an effect that makes it all more blueish, so i dont know if the yes were actually like that or just the effect. i might alternate between them since i still like the blue option, it matches with elfilin.

also talking about forgo, i think it came out particularly very cute here, wich might add to the somethings off feeling, i mean it depends on who you ask.

the part at the bottom with like green and blue is based on the eternal capsule, it doesnt have bubbles in game, but it was to make it more obvious, and also because it looked nice to me.

you can probably decipher what it says at the sides without having to say it, i think its very much engraved into every kirby fan at this point, or at least, fecto elfilis/forgo/elfilin fans

i also made a version with the text in red cuz i couldnt decide, but now i like more the whiter version

i even made a version in yellow, but i stopped liking that one before i even saved it.

also elfilin still has the id-f87 in his neck, its just hard to see, forgo too has the 86 but you cant really see its neck, because i didnt draw it lol

fun fact 2:

i saved it up to 7 times in different files cuz i DID NOT WANT MY PC TO GO KABOOM. im still a bit scared to have lots of layers in a big canvas since the anniversary drawing for forgotten land, it did not explode but it went extremely slow, here at least the canvas was much much smaller, and the reason was mostly in case i need to delete something to not have as many layers or in case i wanna go back, i like to have backups of my drawings, aka a version with all layers that i can edit (.mdp, the file for firealpaca, for example for sai 2 it was .sai2, ah im remembering my sai days now) and a png file to post and also if i wanna look at my drawings.

if you are wondering why its called devilstrain [number] its because i was listening to that song while drawing and didnt know what to name it, in fact im actually listening to it rn as i write this, i really like it

i have some drawings started, mostly a chaos elfilis one, i think i already mentioned in a past post, i think im gonna stop that list i mentioned too since im feeling really motivated, maybe next time i feel bad about my drawings i can continue it, ah my eyes are hurting since yesterday wah

thank you if you decided to read my very unnecessary and annoying long ramblings, and also thanks if you didnt and just looked at the drawings, its undertandable (mucho texto i know)

Jambuhbye!

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dungeons-and-dragon-age · 5 months

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OC Questionnaire (Warden Edition)

got tagged by lovely @shivunin and @greypetrel! <33 Going with my Wardens for now cus this is gonna get long otherwise x'D (also stealing Mo's idea to do tarot cards instead of star signs cus i can never settle on birthdays lol) edit: here's the others!

tagging in turn @cao-the-dreamer,@herearedragons, @nebulouswinds, @nanowatzophina, @creativegoblin, @exantivancrow, @goofsoup, @wonderofthemoon, @a-drama-addict, @bearsizedant, @beelzebard, @feyfiendish, @curiouslavellan, @exotic-inquiry, and anyone else who'd like to join in! c:

NAME: Neira Surana

NICKNAME: .. none really xd

GENDER: Female (there are some cisn't feels there but it's never sth she explores or bothers with)

TAROT CARD: Queen of Cups

HEIGHT: Average elf height (i like to think she's a bit taller than June lol)

ORIENTATION: Aroace

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Fereldan Elf

FAVORITE FRUIT: Wild strawberries

FAVORITE SEASON: Late winter/ early spring

FAVORITE FLOWER: Daisies

FAVORITE SCENT: Wood smoke, old parchment, lyrium

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Tea! Specially herbal or mild floral ones

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: Lol. lmao. (sleep is very inconsistent)

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs (she's allergic to cats

DREAM TRIP: Would love to travel the length of the Imperial Highway

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1-2

RANDOM FACT: Would love to say that there's an epic story for her scar, but it was just some random ass encounter with darkspawn where she wasnt careful and healed too slowly and sloppily

NAME: Kalagna Brosca

NICKNAME: Kala, Dwarf

GENDER: Female (?) (i doubt Dwarven gender works the same way as Human gender but rn female works well enough)

TAROT CARD: Five of Pentacles

HEIGHT: Tall-ish (still shorter than Neira though)

ORIENTATION: Alistair Demi (fr though Ali is the only person she's ever felt any sort of attraction for)

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Orzammarian Dwarf

FAVORITE FRUIT: Passionfruit or Apples

FAVORITE SEASON: Late autum/early winter

FAVORITE FLOWER: Sunflowers or magnolias

FAVORITE SCENT: Fresh nighttime air, magnolias (they're her fave in part cus of the smell lol), sulfur (smells like home)

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Hot choco

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 7-ish? on slow days she likes to sleep in though

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs? No opinion really.

DREAM TRIP: Kal-Sharok

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: as many as are available

RANDOM FACT: She has tried to use Barksparn as a mount before. It did not work.

NAME: Var'Renan Mahariel

NICKNAME: Renan, Da'Renan

GENDER: unlabelled (only label he'd actively reject would be agender; they Do have gender(s), just not contained)

TAROT CARD: Five of Cups

HEIGHT: Tall! Def more than a head taller than Noya

ORIENTATION: Pan and demi

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: (Fereldan/Southern) Dalish

FAVORITE FRUIT: Cornelian cherries

FAVORITE SEASON: Spring

FAVORITE FLOWER: Wild garlic or foxglove

FAVORITE SCENT: Mint, petrichor, rotting wood

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Well spiced teas

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 6-7 (they get antsy when they sleep longer)

DOGS OR CATS: Cats

DREAM TRIP: Antivan coast; would like to visit the Dales and the Emerald Graves sometimes as well

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 1

RANDOM FACT: They can't whistle and is grumpy about it

NAME: Noya Tabris

NICKNAME: Tadpole, sprout (both mostly by Cyrion but sprout sometimes teasingly by others too)

GENDER: Female (uses she/they though)

TAROT CARD: Seven of Wands/ Queen of Wands

HEIGHT: Short mfer (around same height as Kala)

ORIENTATION: Panromantic Ace

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Fereldan (city) Elf

FAVORITE FRUIT: Green olives

FAVORITE SEASON: Summer

FAVORITE FLOWER: Snapdragon

FAVORITE SCENT: Fresh stew, petrol, hot dusty summer air

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE: Coffee

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 8 pre-coscription; after more around 6

DOGS OR CATS: Dogs. She's always wanted a puppy...

DREAM TRIP: Seheron

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: preferably 2 but 1 will do

RANDOM FACT: Has no shame staring at people; does it a lot bc she likes drawing and also bodies are fascinating

----------

Blank meme:

NAME:

NICKNAME:

GENDER:

STAR SIGN:

HEIGHT:

ORIENTATION:

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY:

FAVORITE FRUIT:

FAVORITE SEASON:

FAVORITE FLOWER:

FAVORITE SCENT:

COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE:

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP:

DOGS OR CATS:

DREAM TRIP:

NUMBER OF BLANKETS:

RANDOM FACT:

#i dont have good recent drawings of most of them rip so i put a picrew and some (mostly) silly sketches <3 #no numbers for heights im afraid cus i suck at thinking up numbers and sizes are relative anyways #so i put the relative sizes instead xd #also i went for in-game nationalities cos it makes sense for them #and also cos when it comes to irl approximations i dont have set ethnicities for most of them #however most of them are mixed south asian and/or swana in some way #because these are my blorbos and i can be as self indulgent as i want <3 #oc tag game #my ocs #oc: neira surana #oc: kalagna brosca #oc: noya tabris #oc: var'renan mahariel #might do the others later who knows! xd

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covenofwives · 11 months

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Dandelion Kisses

Dream is forever waiting for DreamXD to return. George is sick of Dream's moping around.

Waiting was the worst thing for Dream.

He spent months on edge waiting in that prison for the next visitor, or the next torture session. Dream always liked to pride himself on patience, and knowing the importance of letting things naturally fall into place but ever since the prison, waiting was the enemy.

There were a few dandelions just starting to sprout their seeds. They looked fluffy, like perfect puffballs but soon they’d be loose and ready to be windswept.

Dream watched the gentle sway of the dandelions in front of him. Some yellow heads mixed with the white. Swaying back and forth in the breeze. Back and forth. Back and forth. It was becoming hypnotising, slowly emptying Dream’s mind of any thoughts which was actually welcomed at that point.

Whenever Dream had a moment to think, it would all go back to DreamXD and remembering the rage on his brother’s face. Being able to just not think was a blessing.

“Are you done sulking?”

A voice pushed passed the puffballs filling his head, drawing up Dream’s attention. Without moving too much from his position he turned his head ever so slightly to look over his shoulder.

George stood, as he usually did, like a perfect painting in the afternoon sun. He must have been absolutely sure the two wouldn’t be disturbed as the wraps he usually had on his arms and chest under his tunic were off, showing the red mushrooms patches on his skin openly.

“No.” Dream mumbled into his arm as he turned back around to watch the flowers. He was laying on his front, arms folded under his head as he watched the flowers.

He heard a frustrated sigh from George behind him but wouldn’t look around. “You’re being very reckless, just laying out here where anyone can see you.”

“No-one comes here.” Dream mumbled back and it was partly true.

The rolling meadows were a lovely show of wild flowers in the Kinoko Kingdom. Dream, Sapnap and George would frequently go there to chill as well as a few others, but after Foolish build the impressive gardens with the Kingdoms walls most people flocked there, leaving the meadows mostly abandoned. That was perfect for Dream and George to steal some moments alone, or take time for themselves.

Dream was overcome with a want to see the meadows today and ventured out before George had woken up. He had left a note that read ‘OUT’ but it should be expected George would have looked here first.

“Thought you were busy today anyway.” Dream added, trying to annoyingly not let it show it bothered him but also hint that it bothered him.

“I said I was busy later today.” George came closer and Dream could feel him sit down on the grass beside his waist. “Sapnap wants a meeting with few people. Probably on security.”

Dream snorted to the irony of it before things went quiet for a while. An uncomfortable quietness before George spoke up.

“I could tell him today, if you want. Just calmly speak to him about…”

“No!” Dream snapped. “He’d put me back in there.”

“He’d listen to me. I could convince him to listen to you.”

“No!” Dream bristled to the thought of speaking to Sapnap again. Not after how everything had been left.

It was expected but heartbreaking when he saw Sapnap’s face in the crowd hunting him down. He replayed the words again and again in his head.

“Miss George? He doesn’t miss you. He doesn’t think of you, certainly doesn’t talk about you!”

It was one of the things Dream couldn’t bring himself to ask, though it always plagued his mind. Sapnap was just out to hurt Dream but then the words held some truth. George had already explained he wouldn’t visit Dream in prison because it hurt too much. So did he just pretend Dream didn’t exist?

“Well fine.” George threw up his hands and quickly stood up. “If you’re not up for talking then I’ll be back home.”

“I…never said that.” Dream forced himself to speak before George stepped too far away. He wouldn’t turn around but he heard the steps stop and finally he heard George come back. That settled his heart.

“Alright, so you’re up for talking. Not about Sap but you want to talk.” George sat himself down again by Dream’s side. This time he was closer and Dream could feel the warmth of him. “So what about?”

The dandelions all stilled for a split second, like they were letting Dream collect his thoughts before they started swaying again.

“XD… When do you think he’ll…y-you know…?”

“Deal with you?” George unhelpfully finished but Dream couldn’t deny that was the proper word for it. “I don’t know. Honestly I didn’t expect him to give you back, I thought you were gone again.”

That was Dream’s greatest fear too. He still wasn’t done processing everything that happened to him in that…wherever the hell he was. He told George about it, of course. He was still wearing the soft green tunic HD had given him, only now it was pared with black shorts that reached above his knees. But he had expected XD to show up the next day, or the day after. It was a week now and still nothing.

“Do you think he’s ever coming back?” George asked.

Dream’s heart thumped uncomfortably in his chest. “Of course! He has to… He…”

“He didn’t come back for you in the prison.” George’s voice wasn’t unkind, but it was bluntly to the point. “He didn’t come back to me either.”

“You stopped speaking to him?” Dream turned his head to look at George. He was absolutely bathed in the sunlight. His back to Dream but still an absolute picturesque sight. The sun caught on the edges of his hair, making it look golden.

“After he told me he wasn’t freeing you from prison, we fought and I told him to leave. He did and never came back.” George turned to look at Dream and seemed almost surprised to see his friend staring at him. “In the End, that’s the first time I’d seen DreamXD in months.”

Dream frowned. “Did you mean to send him away? Completely?”

George’s eyes flicked down to the grass while he thought. “I don’t know. Maybe in the moment I did, then I regretted it. But then the more I thought of it the more I meant it. If he was going to let you stay in there then I didn’t want him around.”

“He was your friend.”

“You’re more important.”

Dream’s heart worked through a mixture of flutters, tightening and thumping seemingly all at once. His cheeks flushed and he quickly looked away, back to the dandelions still dancing in the wind for him.

“What if he doesn’t come back?” Dream asked, trying to distract his confused heart.

“Do you want that?”

“No I… I-I don’t know. He can’t just…leave!”

“Didn’t you want him to leave?”

“I wanted him to help me!” Dream hand wrung through the grass. “I wanted him to listen to me! Just stop speaking for me and listen to me for once! But he never does and he never will! I nearly die and he wouldn’t even hear me out! Nothing I ever do for him gets his attention! He only listens when others talk about me, he never even bothered to ask-EEEP!”

A feathery swipe ended his thoughts and jolted through Dream’s body. It touched on his knee, swiping up to his thigh and causing his leg to kick out before Dream turned over.

He couldn’t fully turn over though, as George had very purposefully laid over Dream’s calves, so all Dream could really do was turn his waist. The fluffy head of the dandelion twirled softly in George’s hand.

“Wh-Whahat was that fohor?”

“You were spiralling.” George shrugged and twirled the flower in his hand again. He positioned it so close to his cheek Dream was sure it touched him, but it seemed George kept it just a hair length away from his skin.

“I was just…talking.” Dream tried to calmly talk, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the fluffy flower twirling around so delicately. It had felt so soft against the back of his knee, like it was a feather. Multiple feathers.

“You were spiralling.” The flower drooped in George’s hand slightly and Dream worried it was about to fall onto his leg.

Remembering the flower tingling along his leg made Dream jump ever so slightly, but he couldn’t really move much with George on top of them. “You-You asked…!”

“Now I’m not. Now I’m running this flower over your knee.”

“NO!”

George lowered the flower just ever so slightly but stopped. He gave a smug smile to Dream’s panic and attempt to dislodge himself. He couldn’t properly push himself up and George placed ever so perfectly over his calves meant he couldn’t kick his legs properly either.

“I don’t like it when you spiral.” George turned the flower over in his hand so the white fluffy head fell and pointed towards Dream’s knee. Dream drew in a short grasp, seeing how close he flower was to his skin. The back of his knees prickled from just the thought of it.

“You get a bad look on your face, like a scowl.” George softly and slowly twirled the flower. “It’s ugly on you. It twists up your pretty face and gives you a nasty look in your meadow eyes.”

“G-Geohohorge!” Dream fumbled as his words as his face burned redder and redder. His focus was torn between the flower twirling so close above his knee and the praises George was so freely giving out.

One of the flower’s twirls was just a little too harsh and the newly fluffed seed dislodged from the stem. It fluttered downward so gently, landing on the back of Dream’s knee. It barely felt like more than whisper, but Dream’s nerves and flusters set his skin on high alert.

“G-GEHEohohorge! GEhehet ihit o-ohohoff!”

“What?” George blinked, completely unaware. He moved the flower to the side ever so slightly, seeing the little fluff over Dream’s knee. “Is that it?”

“Ihihit’s…nn!” Dream smothered his face into his arm, screaming laughter into it to let out his pent up nerves. “Juhuhust-Just mohove ihit!”

“Are you serious?! Is it tickling you?” George cackled. His high pitched taunt ringing in Dream’s ears and prickling his skin. “You idiot! It’s just a little bit of fluff! Does it tickle Dreamie? Is it tickling your knee so much?!”

“Geohohohorge!” Dream whined, his pride completely thrown to the soft breeze. In all honesty the fluff would have probably stopped tickling now if George wasn’t so instant to mention it over and over again. “J-Juhuhust hehelp!”

George rolled his eyes to Dream’s plight, but he moved to help. Or he seemed to. His arm slightly moved up but then a brilliant idea flashed across his mind and he thought better of it. Instead of wiping away the offending fluff he lowered his head closer to Dream’s knee.

Still hiding in his arms, Dream couldn’t see George’s approach until he felt just a puff of air on the back of his knee. He jolted up, and turned around just in time to see George blowing softly against the back of his knee.

It wouldn’t have been so ticklish if Dream wasn’t already on edge. What would have just prickled his skin a little shot through his nerve system. He arched his back, letting out a silent squeal before falling into helpless yapping giggles. “GehEHEOHohoHOHORGE! S-StahAHAhahahap!”

“Does even that tickle Dreamie?” George asked, his voice high with giddiness. “Even the wind tickles you!”

“It’s nohohohot the wihihind! Ihihit’s yohohohohou! Ihihihit--”

A gasp caught in Dream’s throat, silencing his laughter and stopping his words. He was stunned into silence, the skin on the back of his knee prickling as George’s lips pressed against them.

It wasn’t a raspberry blown on his knee, or nibbles. It was just a soft kiss against his skin. It tickled Dream’s already sensitive skin but he was too stunned to properly respond. His face flushed a deep red and mind stopped suddenly, like short circuiting and rebooting over and over.

“G-G…Geohorge…” The word came out so softly, and even then Dream didn’t know what he was going to really say.

Before his brain could work out any form of sentence, George pulled back and his lips returned just a little bit below his knee, this time blowing a quick raspberry into the skin and kick-starting Dream’s brain. Of course it was just to scream with laughter, but at least it was something.

“StohOHoOhoOP! Stop stop! GeoHOHOHOHORGE!”

Dream tried to kick his legs to no avil, but it didn’t stop George from gasping in offence. “Did you really try to kick me Dream?! In your position?! That’s bold of you!”

“N-No! Nohoho! I-I didn’t mea-AAAAAA! GEOHOHOHORGE! NOHOHOT THAHAHAHAT NOHOHOHOT THAHAHAT!”

The dandelion twirled against the side of Dream’s knee, tickling him just ever so slightly. But the scream came from George leaning forward and nibbling over the back of Dream’s thighs. It was just right above his knees, and George’s teeth were nowhere near as bad as XD or HD’s fangs, but it tickled so much more than simple kneading or nails would.

“GEORGE PLEHEHEHEASE! PLEEEEEHEHEASE! I’ll-I’ll dohoho anIHIHIHYTHIHIHIHING!”

“Anything?” George asked, which took his teeth away from Dream’s thigh for one blissful second, but he brought up his nails to scribble over the skin still.

“Anythihihihihing! Anything! Plehehehease stohohohop!”

The tickling did stop, slowly turning to a firmer touch that wiped away the ghostly tickles still prickling over Dream’s thighs. The dandelion dancing on the side of his knee was discarded, but now even the grass was tickly. He couldn’t help but giggling into his arm, only coaxed out when George gently took his shoulder and turned Dream over on his back.

The sun shone behind George as he sat over Dream. It gave him and almost ethereal back lighting, turning the edges of his hair and skin golden. He looked like an angel, and Dream was just content to watch him for however long George would let him.

“Your hair is a mess, idiot.”

It probably was. He could feel some of the stands of hair sticking to his face from the sweat. George reached out, his fingers fiddled with Dream’s hair a little before he pulled back, holding some of the dandelion seeds between his fingers. They must have been all over Dream’s hair.

“Wh…What was that all about?” Dream asked with his voice just slightly breathless.

“What? Tickling you? You were spiralling.” George replied like it was the most obvious thing.

“N-Not with that!” Dream flustered. “Th…The kiss…”

“Oh! What about it?”

“Wh-What about…” Dream blinked up to George, silently asking if he was serious. But George seemed oblivious to the issue at hand. “You’ve…you’ve never kissed me before.”

The Dream Team were very openly affectionate with each other. They slept like a pack together and were often cuddling one another. It was a common occurrence and never blinked at. The three were just affectionate people, even George who hissed like a cat and would deny it. But kissing was always different to each of them. Dream commonly kissed his friends, usually on the cheek. It was a natural thing for him, but George never did. He’d accept kisses from friends, through eye rolls and insults, but he’d never give any out. Dream and Sapnap always used to joke George’s kisses were specially magical. But here George was, kissing Dream so casually and then looking like nothing was wrong.

Well, he kissed Dream’s knee which Dream still counted as a kiss.

George tilted his head, like a cat observing a mouse. He said nothing and Dream wasn’t sure what else to say. It felt like there was a lump in his throat and no matter how many times he gulped, it wouldn’t clear.

George was the first one to move. He leaned over so he was on top of Dream, and brought his face down closer. Dream would have gasped, but his lungs refused to work. He felt frozen and burning at the same time.

The space between the two was so minuscule. Their lips were practically together until George moved at the last moment. He bought himself up more and planted a kiss over Dream’s forehead.

While Dream was still stunned over everything that happened, George pulled himself back. “There. I’ve kissed you two times now. No big deal.”

George pulled himself to stand up while Dream still lay in the grass. He must have looked a mess with his hair entwined between the blades of grass and the blush fresh on his cheeks. But George hit his arm softly and he was brought out of his stupor for a moment.

“Come on. I’m hungry. Lets go eat something before I have to meet Sapnap.”

Dream was pulled up on his feet. The dandelion seeds still clung to him, and while he made some attempt to shake them off he didn’t care too much. His heart was racing but also fluttering so softly. He felt heavy and light at the same time. For the first time in a while Dream felt a twinge of youthful carelessness and he wanted to bask in the feeling for as long as possible.

#dsmp tickle #mcyt tickle #lee!dream #ler!george #godsiblingau #covenofwords

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kyber-kisses · 2 years

Text

A Glimpse of Us

Steve Harrington x Reader

Warnings: severe angst? Blood, tears, I can’t give too much away

Summary: when you’re trying to save the world, not everyone walks away unscathed

A/N: I would literally sacrifice myself for Steve Harrington, y’all do not understand. If the duffers kill my boy I will be raising hell.

Steve didn’t want to be here.

Hell, if he was being honest he knew no one wanted to be here. It wasn’t exactly an event that people got excited over. If anything it was one that people dreaded.

He can sense Dustin shift on his feet besides him, every once and while giving him a slide glance as well. He knows Dustin wants to say something, try anything to comfort Steve—but the kid remains silent.

And internally he thanks him for it.

Robins here too. It’s the first time Steve sees her quiet for such a long period of time. He knows she’s trying to process too.

Everyone is.

Despite the fresh spring air and the bursts of color sprouting from the flower beds and tree branches, Steve feels like he’s drowning in a sea of black— but he doesn’t try to paddle or reach for the surface. He allows it to settle around him.

Usually he would play notice to the soft chatter of voices around him, but today he doesn’t. Instead he lets his brain block it all out.

The only thing Steve is focusing on is the large portrait set against the stand several feet away, the base of it overflowing with lilies and daisies and hydrangeas.

God was there a massive amount of hydrangeas.

Then again they always were your favorite.

As he stood there he could see you beaming back at him from the framed photograph, completely unaware that your life like so many of those before you, was drawing to a close.

Despite everything that had happened in the past four years, Steve thought he would be immune to being caught off guard and surprised. . . Yet here he was. It had been two weeks and yet he still couldn’t wrap his head and heart around the fact that you were gone and not coming back.

He would have to walk back into work Monday morning with Robin and act like everything was normal even thought it wasn’t. You wouldn’t be stocking the shelves from all the Sunday evening movie returns or stealing his milk duds. All you would be is a headline article and a picture in the Hawkins Post.

He takes a painful glance at the headstone a few feet away, only to move his eyes back to his shoes. Your life could never be marked by a gravestone, something so cold and immobile. Perhaps a tree with a wind-chime in the branches could do you more justice, or a simple song sung into the wind. What lied in the ground is only flesh and blood, and that was never what you were.

You were so much more than that.

You were sunsets and big smiles. You were rose colored sunglasses and hand written birthday cards. You were pressed Pennie’s and never remembering to set your alarm. You were warm summer nights and loud contagious laughter.

You were. . . You.

And Steve loved every bit, he was just to late to realize it. And when he did he was ready, he was so ready to tell you—

And then you slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

And now he was here.

Watching as your casket was lowered into the ground The fact that he would forever be six feet apart from you settled heavy over him.

Six feet never felt so far until now.

Feeling a hand squeeze his shoulder, he lifts his head- eyes till stuck to the casket. “Hmm?”

“Dustin and I will meet you at the Y/L/Ns. Take your time though.” Robins voice was gentle and soft as she gave him one more squeeze and departed his side along with Dustin.

Sticking his hands into his suit pocket, he squeezed a fist around the piece of paper tucked inside- trying everything int his power to ground himself to reality before he slipped back into that nightmare of a memory.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

“You son of a bitch!” You yelled, giving Steve a firm shove as you inhaled deeply, slightly out of breath.

“Me?! You were the one that just went running headfirst into danger!”

“Only because you were in danger to begin with!” You jammed a finger into his chest. “Could you not make me worry for five damn minutes Harrington?”

If someone told you a week ago that you would be standing in the middle of some back road outside Hawkins in the middle of the night right after climbing out of a nasty ass hell gate you would have emmediatly nodded and gone and raided your parents liquor cabinet—-

Yet here you were, covered in dirt, blood, and god knows what else.

A few yards away lay the damn portal, glowing a henious red and smelling like literal sewage. Things had gone sideways on your return trip to the upside down, leaving you and Steve spectated from the rest of the group and running for your life as those stupid bats flooded across the landscape.

Luckily Dustin had figured out earlier that a portal opened up every time Vecna took another victim, which had you and Steve aiming for the one were Fred had died.

It was a whole other miracle that no one in Hawkins had stumbled across the gate that was smack dab in the middle of a road.

Taking in a shuttered breath, you stumbled slightly back. With the adreline in your body starting to wear off you were beginning to feel all the aches and pains of the last two hours.

Grabbing at your side you winced, god did that hurt.

Seeing the change expression, Steve’s face shifted. “Y/N?”

And then like a switch being flicked, your knees buckled and Steve was rushing forward to catch you before you slammed into the pavement.

“Y/N!”

“Must be more tired than I originally thought.” You breathed, allowing Steve to lower you gently to the ground, unaware that you had now soaked Steve’s hands in deep crimson, making his face fall all the more.

“Oh god.”

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Looking up at Steve you felt your own face fall and then you saw his eyes directed at his shaking palms, thick red blood coating his fingers from where he had caught you.

So maybe one of those bats had gotten you way worse than you originally thought.

The pain wasn’t the worst part though. No, it was the look of sheer panic on Steve’s face.

Steve. The boy you’d been friends with since first grade, who used to share his snacks with you at recess and ride bikes with you. The Boy who pulled pranks on you and would push you into his pool when you were kids.

The boy you fell in love with a few years back but never had the courage to tell.

“We Uh, shit- we gotta get you to a hospital. He breathed, running bloody hands through sweat drenched hair.

“Steve let’s think rationally here. My side is literally ripped open, the hospital is on the other side of town and we have no way of getting there.”

He was silent for a moment and then his eyes widened and he was scrambling across the pavement. Then there was the distinct hiss of static and Steve playing with the dials of the walk-in talkie the two of you had.

“Dustin?! Come in Dustin!” The panic was so heavy in Steve’s voice it made you slightly wince. You didn’t like seeing him like this.

Within another moment he was back at you side, peeking off his shirt as he tried to staunch the flow of blood coming from your abdomen. The walk-in crackled to life besides him.

“Steve?! Thank god, we thought we had lost you guys! What the hell happened?!” Dustins voice breaking through the heavy breathing coming from your friend.

“Dustin! I’ll fill you in later, but I need you to grab Max and get down here to Dawson Road as fast as you can?”

“What’s going o-“

“Nows not the time Henderson! I left my keys on Eddie’s counter, have Max drive-“

“Wait now you want Max to drive?”

“We don’t really have another choice! Just get your asses down here! We need help!” At this point Steve was practically screaming into the walkie, the pain in his voice only getting stronger.

“Copy that. We’re on our way.”

With a heavy sigh Steve tossed town the walkie yet again, before returning all his attention to you. With one hand pressed firmly against your abdomen and the other gripping your hand tightly, he tried to fight back the nausea stirring in his belly.

You looked so fragile in this moment, your eyelids drooping as you weakly held his hand. Your pulse growing weaker by the minute as he kept one of his fingers pressed to your wrist. Despite how dark it was outside he could still see the blood on both of your sets of hands. Real blood was nothing like movie blood, just as real death was nothing like movie death. There is no amount of horror that can prepare a person for seeing the life ebb from another, the hopelessness.

“Hey talk to me Y/N, you gotta stay awake.”

Humming a response you brought your eyes up to look at Steve, “how bout just a little nap?”

“Nope, nope-“ he shook his head, still trying to keep the fear from bubbling up. “Come on, stay with me.” Steve paused, trying to think of anything to keep you talking and awake. “Hey, tell me about one of your favorite memories.

“Memories?”

“Yeah, there’s gotta be one. You’ve lived a pretty exciting life.” He mused, giving your hand another squeeze as he moved to brush a stray hair away from your face.

You answer came quick, so quick in fact it caught Steve off guard. “Probably that time we sat in that empty parking lot of that gas station off I-20 and ate shitty gas station snacks.”

“Wait really? You could have gone with anything and you went with that?” He cracked a smile at you, fortunately getting a weak one in return.

“Yeah, cause that’s when I realized I had fallen in love with my best friend.” You voice was so quiet but the words so loud.

It was enough to stun Steve Harrington into complete silence.

“Wait, you—“

“Since junior year.”

“Why- why didn’t you ever say anything?” He breathed, trying to ignore the war raging between the fear of losing you and the euphoria you saying you loved him.

“Monsters we’re taking over Hawkins, and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“Oh well that’s kind of lame.” He tried joking, only to fail miserably due to how you shot him a glare.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“What’s your favorite memory?”

Falling silent yet again, Steve squeezed your hand even tighter. “The night after Starcourt,” he slowly admitted, “when we sat in your living room and ate that pint of cherry jubilee. Despite everything that had just happened you still managed to find a way to smile and crack jokes. That’s when I realized I had loved you way longer than I thought I had.” He paused, glancing down at his hand in embrassment. “Sorry, that shit was cheesy as hell.”

“I’ve known you since first grade. I’m used to it.” You mused weakly, finding it increasingly harder to keep your eyes open.

You knew they weren’t gonna get here in time. But you stayed silent.

Letting out another rattled breath, you casted your eyes towards the night sky. It least you were here and not in the Upside Down. Here there were stars, a whole canopy of them just beyond your reach.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name brought your eyes back to Steve, his big brown irises locking onto your own.

“It’s not such a bad way to go.” You admitted, giving him a weak and tired smile, “at least I’m here with you.”

“And you said, I’m cheesy?” He smiled, before feeling his face slowly drop. He could feel you slipping, even though he had been trying his damndest to ignore it.

In that moment you knew you were saying goodbye but neither of you want to admit it. Because of you said it out loud it was real. Steve locked his eyes onto yours and brought you into his chest, each of you bathed in your blood. Steve felt his face crack into the look he had seen at the hospital several times before, that point of no return, when love is torn apart. Your hair tumbled over your face and so he swept it back, feeling the coldness of your skin, before gently leaning down and placing a delicate kiss to your lips. You smiled so briefly before your breathing became a noisy rattle...

And then you were gone.

Just like that. One minute you were looking up a Steve with that famous Y/N smile, and the next—

That's how Dustin and Max found the two of you. You departed, Steve sitting in a pool of cold blood, hugging your body as if you were still in there somewhere.

You never figured you would die at eighteen. But then again you never figured you’d fall in love with your best friend either.

*. *. *. *. *. *. *. *.

Once the last person had trickled out of the cemetery, Steve found the courage to fish the small paper out of his pocket. Your parents had asked him if he would write a euology for your funeral, and he did. . . He just didn’t read it, not to everyone.

These words were for you.

Only you.

He unfolded it with shaky hands, doing his best to smooth out the creases in the wrinkled paper.

“I’m not very good at writing sentimental shit so your gonna have to bear with me.” He breathed, glancing over at your portrait once more.

“Your parents told me I should do this, that it might help with your passing. . . But I don’t think anything could help with that. I mean, shit- how the hell Am I supposed to go back to a normal life when your not in it. You’ve been in my life since we were kids. You are my normal.

I think I was in love with you for way longer than I realized. I can’t really pin point when it started. All I know is that all of a sudden I was in the middle of it. If I’m begin honest you were the only thing keeping me sane for a long time in this godforsaken town. But then you introduced me to Robin and all three of us became friends. . . And nothings been the same since.”

Each word that left his tongue felt like a weight being lifted off his shoulders. He should have said these things to you in person, but hey- he was a coward so this was as good as it was going to get.

“I know your dead. I mean, I know it in my head, but it doesn’t seem real. I still feel like your here, with me somehow, like one night you’ll be sneaking into family video after close, back from sneaking out after curfew to tell me and Robin about some solo adventure you went on.

I wish you could tell me where you are now. I mean, like I said, I know your gone, but I think there must be something in a person that can’t just disappear.

I guess that’s my formal invitation for you to haunt my ass until the end of time.

I know your out there. Somewhere. Just give me a sign when you can.

In the meantime don’t worry about me. Vecnas gone, and I’m not alone. Robin and Dustin are still looking out for me.

I’m grateful that I got to grow up with you as my best friend, and for all that you showed me.

Yours Forever,

Steve

The End.

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things season 4 #stranger things #stranger things x reader

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 years

Text

In which Food does the Talking

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Potatoes: a most versatile vegetable. And the chefs handling them? Very versatile themselves. Two smiling pretenders grace the stage called the kitchen–and the one overseeing them is tasked with peeling through them and getting to their very cores.

Imagine this…

Clink, clink.

Two platters were set down in front of Gordon Ramsay.

“Today, Caycay made a potato galette!”

Thin slices of potato were laid out in circles, the forming ringed layers of the galette. The skins had been left on for additional texture, and they had crisped up nicely in the skillet, turning golden where the butter had been brushed.

Cater had prettied the potatoes up with a sprinkle of bright green herbs. The dish was plated with a sunny side up egg--the white glistening, and the yolk still wobbling--and a simple salad of lettuce and sliced tomatoes. Two small paper cups were wedged on the rim of the plate, one holding a crimson sauce and one bright yellow and threaded with spices.

... Cater had also taken the liberty of drawing a man in ketchup on top of the galette. The man looked somewhat cross due to the lines on his face, but he was smiling and surrounded by a number of stars.

Is this meant to be me? Gordon wondered, raising an eyebrow at it.

“As for myself, I have prepared a sweet potato pie for your enjoyment.”

The other dish came set in a pie crust. He hadn’t been expecting anything too ornate out of it, but somehow Rook had managed to beautifully braid the dough and dust it with sugar. Sweet granules were visible even at a distance, adding a crystalline quality to the tart--like treasure waiting to be unearthed.

The filling was a rich orange, a careful combination of pureed sweet potatoes, eggs, milk, vanilla, cinnamon, and nutmeg... and, of course, just a pinch of salt. It had come out of the oven looking wonderfully creamy and smooth, and was topped off with more slices of sweet potato--these, candied in brown sugar.

... Rook’s smile was a little off-putting. Perhaps he was simply confident in his culinary creation? Or had he snuck something sinister into the pie? (Gordon was more inclined to the latter, given his experiences with previous students in Master Chef.)

“Looks like you two really know your stuff.”

At least when it comes to presentation. But what about the taste?

Gordon sunk his fork into Cater’s galette, then brought it to his mouth. After a few chews, he did the same with Rook’s tart.

“It’s... hmm.” Gordon’s eyebrows drew together as he set his fork down and folded his arms.

He waited for the shock to set in--the pang of something that shouldn’t be there, conditioned from class after class of strange concoctions. A bitter bite, a twinge of sharply sour.

Nothing.

For a few agonizingly long seconds, he didn’t speak a single word.

It was Cater that broke the ice, eagerly leaning over the table and peering into his teacher’s face. “Ne, ne~ So how was the grub, Gordie? It was mega ‘cammable, right? I spent sooo long arranging it!”

Gordon sighed gruffly. “You’ve still got Instagram on your mind?”

Cater looked as though his teacher had sprouted an extra head. “Uh, Twisted Wonderland to Gordie! What’s Instagram?”

“It’s... You know what, never mind that.” Gordon gestured to the galette. “Your dish. It looks lovely and all, but presentation’s not the only thing you’ve got to worry about. The flavors just aren’t there.”

“No way! But it looks totally...”

“We’re not cooking for your Insta... Magicam followers. We’re cooking so that you--” Gordon poked Cater in the chest, “--and the people you’re serving can eat. Medicore tasting food that looks good won’t do it.”

“How merciless you are in matters of the culinary arts, Trickster.” Rook spoke easily, having been observing Gordon’s judgment intently up until that point. “We present our hearts on these platters, and you, with your cutthroat critique, run a blade through us.”

Gordon pushed his plate away as he turned to the huntsman. “Enough with the pretentiousness. Your dish isn’t any more of an improvement. It’s dreadfully overbearing, and you can still taste it after you’ve swallowed.”

“Whoa, seriously? It sounds like death by sugar rush...” Cater grimaced slightly. “That’s way too much of a good thing, Rook-kun!”

The young chef was unfazed, throwing his head back and laughing from his belly up. “Ah, but proper nutrition is important for performance, non? Complex carbohydrates from the sweet potatoes and simple sugars from the added sweeteners... They will ensure that one has enough energy both in the long and in the short term.

“Unfortunately, it cannot keep for long outside of a fridge. An optimal dish would be one that does not contain dairy or eggs, as they would quickly spoil at room temperature or warmer.”

“Eeeh? No fair pulling out your Science Club smarts on us!”

“Fufu. Not to worry, Monsieur Magicam. Certainly there are ways to enhance one’s dining experience with your own club expertise! Why not consider dinner theater?”

“Like when you watch a show while you eat?”

“Oui! I can see it now: the Pop Music Club gracing the stage, instruments in hand!! The crowd roaring, caught in the throws of passion…! Roi d’Or on the drums, yourself on guitar, and, of course, Monsieur Curiosity on bass, his enchanting vocals ringing out into the inky nigh—t”

“H-Hey, hold up a sec! Let’s not bring Lilia-chan back anywhere near the dining area or the kitchen!”

“... Right, I think I understand where you two are coming from now,” Gordon groaned, a hand to his forehead. “You’re bringing yourselves to the table, and that’s coming through in what you cook.”

Cater, who prioritizes the aesthetic of a dish, and Rook, who considers the function the food will serve... But that’s not all, is it?

The galette: all style and little substance. The pie: too much of one thing. Reflections of their creators, leaning into their strengths to distract from what the flavors were truly masking: their true selves.

Gordon grasped each plate.

“Potatoes,” he began, “are a versatile vegetable. They can be prepared in so many different ways. They can become almost anything we can dream of. A chef’s soul comes out through them.

“Food is a universal language. It’s how chefs communicate.”

With that, the plates were swapped.

The pie in front of Cater, the galette in front of Rook.

“Huh? What’s up with this...?”

Cater’s question was answered with a fork, one offered to each of them.

“I want you to taste the other’s dish,” Gordon stated seriously. “I want you to communicate. If you stick only with what’s familiar, you’ll never grow--and you’ll never understand the ones at the receiving end of that plate.”

“D’ccord.” Rook nodded, effortlessly plucking up the eating utensil held out to him. He passed Cater a friendly smile. “I look forward to sampling the fruits of your labor, Monsieur Magicam!”

“I hope it’s to your tastes! Cay-kun worked super hard on it!” Cater returned the grin and accepted his own fork, but dread roiled deep inside of him.

He could already smell the intoxicating sweetness of the potato pie wafting up to him. His tongue shriveled and died at the thought of having to try it.

Get it over with quickly.

Cater pierced the pie, taking off a chunk that was more crust than filling. He tucked the piece into his mouth, and sugar and spices exploded across his taste buds. The flavors were intense and bombastic, overwhelming the crust.

Yup, definitely too much, Cater thought, breaking off more crust—and tapping off the excess sugar granules. By itself, the flaky crust melted effortlessly. It was darker, smokier than the rest of the dessert, the aroma of browned butter lingering on his tongue.

An alteration in the recipe.

Beside Cater, the Rook muttered to himself as he chewed, slowly parsing through eager ingredient as they greeted him. “Hmm… Potato, butter, herbs…”

The various sauces, the egg, and the salad were but accessories. None could truly fill the void. Short of a seasoning? Not crispy enough? Or too crispy? It was difficult to pinpoint where in the recipe Cater had faltered, but falter he had.

The galette was fare, in spite of the plate’s alluring appearance. The extra “oomph” in it, the heart, cut out.

Missing.

The two students’ gazes met. Their eyes, different shades.

Cater’s were brighter, the green of leaves with sunlight filtering through them. Rook’s were deeper, the color that the trees turned in the night.

Green and green, masking the truth with gilded lies.

And there, in that moment of tasting, they came to a silent understanding.

He has secrets of his own too.

Gordon glanced between them, catching the glint shared in their eyes. His hands came together, and a thunderous clap resounded in the room.

“Back to the kitchen then—and this time, speak up!! Put your best face forward on those plates!!”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rook Hunt #Cater Diamond #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland headcanons #Gordon Ramsay #something no one asked for #disney twisted wonderland #Gordon Ramsay in Twisted Wonderland #imagine this #yes I purposefully wrote this one so that it was less focus on Cater and Rook and more on GR #this is to reflect how guarded Cater and Rook are with their true selves #just like in the dishes they present #YES I AM GOING FULL COOKING ANIME ON THIS SERIES #beyond the looking glass

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mymoonagedaydream · 1 year

Text

Part 2

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: This was intended to be a one-part story but the lovely response it got on AO3 has prompted me to make it a series. I now have a ten-page word document of plot in bullet points to get through so, enjoy!

Am I writing two series simultaneously? Yes. Has this ever worked out for me in the past? No.

Part 1

---

You stood in front of the mirror, squinting at the small, circular scar that sat a few inches left of your belly button. It had healed remarkably well in the few weeks you’d been home. You tilted your head slightly, musing that if it weren’t for the weird, lightning-esque burn marks that sprouted from it in every direction, you probably would’ve been able to pass it off as a birthmark. You just shrugged at your reflection, turned and hopped in the shower.

Readjusting to normal life had been difficult, the hardest part being figuring out exactly what ‘normal’ meant now. The city was still littered with various memorials and floral tributes, some fresh, some neglected; any noise louder than a car horn made every pedestrian in the street flinch and shake with terror; new charities for people who’d lost homes and businesses were canvassing on the streets constantly while tabloid journalists spent their days trying desperately to weed out and expose the numerous scammers amongst them.

Thankfully, though, the biggest inconvenience you’d experienced so far was the messed up subway timetables due to various tunnels caving in. Despite your injury, you felt like you’d gotten away lightly- missing the immediate aftermath was a blessing that not many in the city were afforded.

Unfortunately, your good luck stopped there. You’d barely heard from Bucky at all and you hadn’t seen him in person since he dropped you off at your place all those weeks ago. It was understandable, the whole fucking world was now obsessed with “The Avengers” and he was caught up in the eye of that storm, but you couldn’t help feeling a bit like you’d been abandoned. After everything the two of you had been through, it was really hurtful that he’d stayed away for so long.

After making yourself presentable and pulling on your work uniform, you left your apartment, giving a wide berth to the bulldozer working on one of the many potholes in the sidewalk. You wandered onto the subway and managed to find a seat opposite two well-groomed guys in suits, both reading from the same newspaper. They definitely weren’t siblings, they looked nothing alike, but were they a couple? You stared for a few seconds. Their thighs were touching, but that was nothing remarkable on the cramped subway cars, especially now there were half as many services as usual. Both were wearing wedding bands, but they were different colours. This was a tough one.

You smiled to yourself, remembering how god-awful Bucky was at this game. Even after hours of playing it at the window he’d never guess right. One time you saw what was very clearly an elderly mother with her son, probably heading to some kind of special family function judging by their outfits, and he outright refused to accept that they weren’t a couple. None of your watertight evidence could sway him. You pulled a muscle in your stomach laughing, he just muttered something under his breath about how age wasn’t everything in a relationship.

You shook off the daydream and lazily wandered your gaze down to the front page of the newspaper. An audible gasp escaped your lips when you read the headline, drawing the attention of the few commuters in the car without headphones. It read:

Earth’s Mightiest Heroes?

“Avengers” injured in botched overseas operation

Without thinking you leant forward and snatched the paper, rapidly flicking through the pages to find the full article. There was no real information in there, which you should have anticipated- they’d obviously just received a leak comprised of a single sentence and milked it for every dime it was worth. One word did catch your attention, however. Stark. If he had any information on Bucky then, so help you god, you’d get it out of him.

---

Standing in front of Stark Tower, the righteous confidence you’d felt so strongly on that subway car was starting to waver a little. The confrontation had gone remarkably well in your head but now you were starting to realise how stupidly fucking naive it was to think you’d even get an audience with the guy who owns this place. He probably wasn't even in.

You took a deep breath and pushed open the door, doing your very best to look nonchalant in front of the armed security guards while hurrying over to the front desk. The receptionist was staring at his monitor and typing furiously. You cleared your throat, but he didn’t look up. Looking around, you noticed an old-fashioned call bell sitting on the counter- probably an ironic gift from a colleague, maybe for secret Santa. You hit it. He winced and threw out his hand to silence it.

‘How can I help?’

‘I need to talk to Tony Stark.’

He laughed. 'Do you have an appointment?'

'No, but it's urgent.' An unconvinced eyebrow was raised in your direction. ‘It’s about James Barnes.’

‘What about him?’

‘I know him.’

‘So does the rest of the world, sweetie.’

You rubbed your forehead, trying to collect your thoughts. ‘Look, I was with him after the attack, I got hurt and he helped. I’m his friend. Can you tell Stark that, please? I need to know if he’s alright.’

You could feel tears welling in your eyes as you spoke. The receptionist conceded, picking up the phone and waving you over to the seating area, probably figuring it��d be easier to get rid of you with a firm no from up high. He waited in silence for a minute or so before speaking into the receiver in a tone too hushed for you to hear. He frowned, gave you a very confused glance, and whispered again. Then he hung up.

‘Well, looks like it’s your lucky day,’ he gestured towards the elevator, ‘top floor.’

You had no idea how the hell you pulled that off. You strolled over, hit the button and turned to watch the display beside the doors tick slowly upwards. It was only two floors from the top when you suddenly realised that your whole planned confrontation had completely melted out of your head.

There was a loud ding as the doors slid open and you shuffled forwards, finding yourself in an incredibly extravagant penthouse with a view of the whole city. A stern-looking man with an angular beard and dark glasses approached you, not lifting his gaze from the phone he was tapping at hurriedly. As he got closer you noticed a few small cuts and bruises littered across his face.

‘Tell me what you told the guy behind the desk.’

He still wasn’t looking up, his abrupt questioning catching you off guard. You scrambled for a second and he clicked his fingers impatiently.

‘I’m a friend of James, I want to know if he’s alright.’

‘Wrong. Tell me what you said.’

‘I dont-’ you could feel your face starting to heat up, ‘I just- I’m confused.’

‘It’s a simple question.’

‘I don’t remember.’

He was obviously irritated, sighing as he dropped his hands and met your gaze for the first time. ‘You’re the one who got shot, right?’

You nodded, too intimidated to do much else.

‘Show me.’ He gestured towards your stomach, noting your trepidation as he did so. ‘Look, I need proof that you are who you say you are if we're going to continue this conversation.’

You nodded again, grabbing a fistful of your shirt and hesitantly lifting it to reveal the eerie-looking scar.

‘Gross,’ he gestured for you to cover up, ‘alright.’

Turning on his heels, he stormed across the floor towards a circular seating area. You guessed that you were supposed to follow him. The shiny floor squeaked under your cheap shoes, your cheeks flushing when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the huge windows and remembered that you were still wearing your barista uniform. Stark waved you into a seat.

‘Alright, so your boyfriend is in Siberia, he-’

‘Siberia?’

‘Yes. He was doing some recon when we lost him, we thought-’

‘Lost him?’

‘Can you not talk unless you have something useful to add, please?’ You smiled apologetically. ‘Thank you. Basically, what we thought was a small, residual Hydra cell turned out to be a big operation and we were outnumbered. Some of us were injured, but there was a party we lost track of. Bucky’s party. He’s probably fine, we just don’t know-’

Stark clocked the confusion on your scrunched-up face. He sighed loudly, using one hand to brace himself against the table while the other moved to lift up his glasses and aggressively rub his eyes.

‘Go on.’

‘...Hydra?’

‘Jesus Christ.’ He collapsed into the seat behind him. ‘Y’know what, it doesn’t even matter. All you need to know is that he’s probably fine but, if he's been captured, it could be very bad. We think it would be a good idea for someone he’s close with to be nearby, just in case.’

‘In case what?’

He shot you a warning look but this time you didn’t back down. Your heart was in your throat, you were getting desperate for answers.

‘Look, I don’t have much time, I just came back here to scramble some more manpower and tech. I’m leaving in a few hours, are you coming or not?’

‘To Siberia?’

‘No, to Disney World. Are you sure you didn’t get shot in the brain?’

---

Part 3

---

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mustelavison · 11 months

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The differences between minks and ferrets

On many social media platforms I have seen minks being called ferrets, and ferrets being called minks. Even on Discord when I post art of a mink, people will proclaim “I love minks!” and then proceed to post a gif of a ferret or an ermine. There is no harm in this, ofcourse! But it does frustrate me a lot because they can easily be differentiated by much more than just color.

Please note that this is by no means trying to gatekeep what you can call a mink or not. There may be inaccuracies or things left out, as this is all based on my own research. Half of the reason for writing this post is also simply so I have a bit of a reference for myself too when drawing ferrets and minks. I will also only be referring to the American Mink in this post, seeing as they are the most well known due to the American Mink being the species used for fur farming.

So without much further ado, let's begin!

The Head

When looking at the average mink and the average ferret, it is obviously very easy to pick apart the two. Ferrets have their signature bandit-like mask, which minks usually do not have. Minks typically range from dark or reddish brown to black with a white chin. In this case it would be very easy to learn the difference between the two.

But what about situations where both have the same coat color? Some minks in fur farms are bred to have a white coat, and similarly some ferrets also have the same color. This is very often where I see confusion between the two species. And what if minks sprout the polecat mask that ferrets are commonly known for?

With my art, it is easier to tell the two apart. Especially considering I have noted which is which. But when applied to real life it becomes harder. In fact, when looking up white ferrets for examples I was actually met with an image of a white mink. (And also a lot of ermines, unfortunately.) In situations like this you have to start looking at more anatomical features instead. It is however good to know that white ferrets typically have little to no polecat mask.

As you can see here, I have traced the heads of both a white mink and a white ferret. Although, one image is clearly more zoomed out than the other. I have lined the traced result up with each other so it is easier to spot the differences.

First of all, the head is broader on the mink and rounder. The ears are also much smaller on the mink when compared to the ferret. The muzzle is also much broader and rounder on the mink, too.

There are also smaller differences between the two that don't really matter much and more just fun facts. A ferret’s skull is slightly shorter than a mink’s. Ferrets however, do have longer canine teeth!

The Body

Obviously, aside from the head there are also differences in the rest of the body. Fur farm minks on average, are much bigger than a ferret. Minks are also a lot stronger than a ferret.

There are also coat colors present in only minks and vice versa! The texture of the coats is also very different, which is logical considering ferrets aren’t quite as popular for being used to make coats.

Ferrets generally have a rougher coat than ferrets. Their guard hairs are much longer and sparser. The mink on the other hand has a much denser coat, with the purpose of waterproofing the fur as much as possible to keep the mink warm while swimming.

There are some coat colors usually found only in minks and ferrets respectively. This also works as an identifier because you will not find a jaguar ferret anywhere.

A lot of the different coat colors in ferrets are actually a variation of the standard polecat/sable coat color. That being said, a lot of mink coat colors are actually variations of the standard brown/black coat color although it is not as obvious as it is with ferrets.

The final two differences are the paws and tail. These are not really very different for the most part, and on images you’d see on Instagram or whatever other platform you see a mink on you won't really notice these quickly. Minks generally have longer tails than ferrets, and being semi-aquatic they also have partially webbed feet.

Thanks for reading this entire thing! It's pretty long, I know, but I hope it was of some use to you anyway. Hopefully you learned something new or maybe you could use this as an art reference in some way.

On a footnote: If you can't tell the difference between a stoat/ermine and a mink or ferret then please get your eyes checked. If you didn't know they were different species then I sure hope you know that mink, ferret and ermine are not synonyms for each other and are all different species. Quite frustrating to see ermines pop up so much when searching for white minks or ferrets, you know?

#art #mustelid #mustelids #mustelidae #mink #american mink #minks #ferret #ferrets #long ass post sorr #this is mostly a test post to see if i can hold out long enough to work hours on one singular tumblr post #in preparation in case i wanna do the extended ferret drawing guide thing

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transgenderer · 5 months

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reading mishima feels like i have to take that batteries out of my internal "crazy person" alarm. like. this guy seems like hes just a crazy person? idk. i feel stupid. but like. im reading sun and steel. and its struggling to like, cohere, conceptually, like im struggling to turn the words into meaning

For ideas are, in the long run, essentially foreign to human existence; and the body — receptacle of the involuntary muscles, of the internal organs and circulatory system over which it has no control — is foreign to the spirit, so that it is even possible for people to use the body as a metaphor for ideas, both being something quite alien to human existence as such. And the way in which an idea can take possession of the mind unbidden, with the suddenness of a stroke of fate, reinforces still further the resemblance of ideas to the body with which each of us, willy-nilly, is endowed, giving even this automatic, uncontrollable function a striking resemblance to the flesh. It is this that forms the basis of the idea of the enfleshment of Christ and also the stigmata some people can produce on their palms and insteps.

Nevertheless, the flesh has its limitations. Even should some eccentric idea require that a man sprout a pair of formidable horns on his head, they would obviously refuse to grow. The limiting factors, ultimately, are the harmony and balance on which the body insists. All these do is to provide beauty of the most average kind and the physical qualifications necessary for viewing that swaying sky of the shrine-bearers. They also, it seems, fulfill the function of taking revenge on, and correcting, any excessively eccentric idea. And they constantly draw one back to the point at which there is no longer any room to doubt “one’s identity with others.” In this way, my body, while itself the product of an idea, would doubtless also serve as the best cloak with which to hide the idea. If the body could achieve perfect, non-individual harmony, then it would be possible to shut individuality up for ever in close confinement. I had always felt that such signs of physical individuality as a bulging belly (sign of spiritual sloth) or a flat chest with protruding ribs (sign of an unduly nervous sensibility) were excessively ugly, and I could not contain my surprise when I discovered that there were people who loved such signs. To me, these could only seem acts of shameless indecency, as though the owner were exposing his spiritual pudenda on the outside of his body. They represented one type of narcissism that I could never forgive.

i feel the straightforward reading of this section is that your ideas manifest physically on your body, as like, a punishment. and you can psychosomatic yourself into stigmata. is he doing a bit here? is he pretending? the year after this was published, people landed on the moon! like, this does not feel like a guy grounded in reality. but maybe im taking him too literally

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balkanradfem · 1 year

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So, the last summer, I decided to try out the method of drying green-beans, to see if it would be a good alternative to freezing them. I love frozen green beans, but I want a method of preserving that doesn't take any energy to keep them frozen, dry stuff is shelf stable!

The way to do this is to grab a needle and a thread, stack the green beans on the thread vertically, and then hanging them up to dry. It takes them several weeks to dry, and I do have to say, they all dried properly, none went bad or started getting mold, the drying part went well! Then I put them in my big giant jar and promptly forgot about them for the whole winter.

And now, I'm going to test if they're good to eat!

Some of these are long noodle beans, and some are just normal green beans. In the container next to them are some young garlic plants I found in the field. I've decided to go and make a garlic+green bean soup, to make sure the green beans get a proper time to cook in there.

So, the method of rehydrating these is to put them in a pot, pour boiling hot water over them, and leave them to soak for an hour. This is how they looked when I took them out of the jar:

They seemed light and like there's not much substance to them, they're also pretty thin. I covered the pot and left it for an hour. In the meantime, let's look at the garlic plants. Firstly, what are they.

I sometimes forget to harvest a bulb of garlic, and then in the spring, I get 5-6 young garlic plants growing on top of each other. I tried to pry them apart and plant separately, but none of them would really go on to produce a big head of garlic. So I decided it's much more satisfying to just yank them all out and eat them in the spring as fresh garlic. The entire plant is filled with fresh garlic flavour!

I cleaned them up and separated the white parts from the green, because the white parts can be sauteed on oil, while the green parts will do better to just be cooked. I cut them in little soup-appropriate pieces.

Then I thought, well, this soup would just be so much better if there was a potato in it. Green beans and potatoes just go extremely well together. And I didn't have a young potato, all of mine have already sprouted, so I picked two that looked somewhat decent:

I know these look rough at first, but when you cut them, inside they're just fine! I didn't even peel them, just cut them in little cubes. Now let's look at how are the green beans doing:

They grew bigger! And they now feel very squishy and chewy, and there's much more weight to them, which I like. The smell coming out of them was not like a green-bean scent, it didn't smell much like anything really. I was very curious to how the water would taste where the green beans were soaking, so I tried it. And it tasted like tea. Usually when you cook some vegetable in hot water, it tastes like broth, right? Well this tasted like tea. Tea from leaves and bark. It was extremely interesting.

Anyway, I cut the green beans to little bits as well, and now we have all of the ingredients for cooking! It's going to be a very simple meal, but cool because we're just using garden stuff one can get in early spring.

I put the potatoes and salt on some oil first, because they can handle it for the longest time, and it draws out a more intense flavour in them. When they started smelling real nice, I added the garlic whites, and after a bit, garlic greens and green beans, or at this point they would be called 'leather britches', because people compare the texture of dry green beans to leather. And that's it! Extremely simple soup making. Here it is done:

I was excited to see what the flavour of green beans would be, because I was promised they have this very intense flavour, but I have to admit, this soup tasted overwhelmingly of potatoes and garlic! Which is a heavenly combination, so I loved it a lot. I was a little disappointed that I couldn't taste the green beans, I think the flavour possibly faded because I just left them sitting in a transparent jar for some 9+ months, and they should have been protected from the light better.

I could feel the texture, however, and it was okay, it was slightly leathery but by no means difficult to eat. I ended up eating the entire soup very quickly, and I have to say it was extremely sating. I felt very well fed afterwards and satisfied for hours. Food that is no trouble to store, easy to eat and sating, that sounds like a perfect thing for me.

I'll try it again this summer, but I'll see if I can eat the green beans before they lose the flavour completely, or if I could preserve it for longer by keeping them out of light, in a paper bag or a very dark spot. Possibly I should have tried putting them on oil to draw out the flavour, but I haven't thought of that at the time. I actually have a bit of them left over, because I wanted to see if they cook any different if I don't soak them first, so when I try that out, I'll put that information out as well!

#homemade soup #dehydrated green beans #leather stritches #cooking from home stash #young garlic #cooking from scratch #green beans #green bean experiment #long noodle beans #cooking #experimental recipes

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