#Carrots are the worst to try and get him to eat

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Don't Put That On My Plate - LN

Summary: Lando is dating a fellow picky-eater and he sort of loves her all the more for it

I write this inspired by myself, I am the worst for eating. I get anxiety eating in front of anyone else and if someone is in the kitchen while I'm cooking I have the most violent thoughts towards them. So this is for anyone who can relate to that.

Also some of the pickiness is actually food that my friends are picky about. The slightly more quirky eating habits are deffo very me-based, lol. The poll isn't even done but this one has been winning by a landslide so I figured I'd just upload :D

No part 2 requests please

Lando is pretty famously not the most adventurous eater, only trying food in a challenges for marketing when he watches Oscar try them first and even then he's untrusting of trying it with confidence.

Y/n is much pickier in that she doesn't like the fairly basic "healthy" stuff. She'll eat a salad, but don't dare put tomatoes near it. He actually found her gagging hard over the smell of ketchup. Carrot, sweetcorn and peas aren't ever going to be spotted on her plate either. But she loves spinach and roast parsnips make her smile every time without fail.

Does he understand her logic? No.

But he'll defend her to no end and stop someone from putting something he knows she doesn't like on her plate.

Lando actually can't stop himself from smirk a little at the sight of her inspecting the burger and removing the tomato from it then using a knife to scrape off any residue of it from the rest of it.

He knows she would've asked for a plain burger with just cheese. But they must've just given her a burger with everything on it probably just ignoring her. They're busy and they feed a lot of people but he'll make sure it's fixed for her.

"It's ok, baby. Give it here. I'll get you something you can eat." Lando smiles picking up her plate, moving around and kissing her quickly before he shifts to get her something she'll eat.

"Thank you." Y/n mumbles as he shoots a smile back at her.

After retrieving a burger that is of her liking he returns placing it down in front of her with some extra fries as an apology for the mix up.

"You're too sweet." Y/n smiles though she double checks the burger to make sure there's nothing in there that she doesn't want.

"You wouldn't have eaten it anyway." Lando smiles lightly while she hums a little then biting into the burger. "Better?"

"Yeah, better." Y/n nods with a grin.

-

Y/n yawns as she sits tucked up next to Lando on the private jet, she is exhausted Lando is talking to others.

She's sort of dozing in and out before she feels something brush her lips and she actually shoots back so fast that Lando's quick reflexes is all that saves her from smashing her head on the side of inner side of the plane. His hand behind her coming up to block the back of her head.

"What the hell was that?" Y/n questions making Lando finally breathe from his laughter and she drops her shocked expression. "What the hell is that?"

"It's a crisp." Lando laughs then holding it up to her mouth again but she just moves her head back again. "You like crisps."

"Well what flavour is it?" Y/n asks with furrowed browns while Lando grins at her. "What flavour?"

"It's just ready salted you muppet." Lando states then laughing when she opens her mouth and he places the crisp on her tongue.

"Did you really have to wake me up for that?" Y/n questions then making her smile lightly before she grins at him.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to make you jump." Lando grins then hugging her tightly, kissing her forehead. "Want anything else to eat? You haven't really eaten much in the past 24 hours."

A key difference between Lando and y/n, y/n sort of avoids eating sometimes if she feels like she's not likely to find something she wants to eat. Lando on the other hand will unapologetically eat whatever he can get his hands so long as it's not fish or something he's not tried before.

"Yeah, I can eat." Y/n nods while Lando smiles pulling the packet of crisps to sit on her lap, he's intending to grab her some more food from the selection they've got on the jet. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, gorgeous." Lando smiles then laughing as he looks at her. "Do you want anything else? We've got ramen?"

"Chicken?"

"Yes." Lando smiles before kissing y/n's forehead gently as she shifts to pick up her crisps and begin eat.

"Are you having some?"

"I can."

Another quirk. Y/n doesn't like eating around Lando if she's the only one eating.

"Yeah, I can eat." Lando nods with a smile.

"I don't want egg though." Y/n mumbles earning a small laugh.

"No egg." Lando chuckles with a nod.

Y/n does like eggs but she's very picky about being in the right mood for it. Apparently now is not one of those moments that she is.

-

Once thing Lando has always been careful of when it comes to restaurants is checking the menu to make sure there's a few options that he'd like depending on different moods he might be feeling. Since he started dating her, he has started to focus more on there being something she'd like to eat on the menu than even considering what he wants to eat when it comes to the options.

"I don't know if you want to go there baby, the menu doesn't look very...you." Lando states as y/n talks about a restaurant one of the other driver's girlfriend's had mentioned.

"Really?"

"Yeah." Lando nods sadly making her stand up from the floor and move to sit in his lap, frowning as she looks at his phone then grunts realising he's completely right with that. "Sorry, baby. Picky eaters club isn't allowed in."

"Rude." Y/n pouts earning a small smile from Lando. "A life long burden."

"Would you change?" Lando smirks earning a hum.

"No."

"I didn't think so. We can find somewhere else with nicer food that isn't yuck." Lando grins while wrapping his arms around y/n while she holds his phone and begins to search for somewhere else to eat. "We can order room service today and go out tomorrow?"

"Room service is good. They always have the simple stuff. Can't go wrong." Y/n nods while Lando smiles sadly at y/n.

"Y/n." Lando sighs softly knowing that she is trying to make herself feel better because sometimes she does hate her eating habits and how they hold her back. "Do you know what you need?"

"What?"

"Chocolate. Brownies to be specific."

Y/n grins immediately since if there's one weakness that immediately brings back a good mood, it's brownies. She loves chocolates, as many people do, but it raises her mood enough that Lando can rely on it to be the perfect pick me up.

So they order 4 brownies and y/n manages 2 and half before declaring she can't manage anymore.

"That was worth it."

"Good." Lando laughs while lying down next to her and hugging her tightly.

"Oh god, don't squeeze me. I'll be sick." Y/n groans before sighing. "You know I bet those posh poncy restaurants have nothing like that good of brownies, just like little weird overpriced blobs of mousse on a plate. Probably taste like air."

Lando laughs because she's really right but he still knows she'd love to go to an overpriced restaurant and eat enough things that people would judge her and Lando would probably make a game out of wondering what the final bill would be.

"Thank you." Y/n whispers making Lando smiles and kiss her softly, not being able to hide his grin at the taste of chocolate still on her lips.

She might wish she would change sometimes, but Lando definitely doesn't with for it. He loves her exactly how she is, in the same way she loves him exactly how he is.

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #ln4 x reader #lando #norris #lando norris mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris x you #ln4 one shot #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #ln4 fanfic #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #mclaren racing

[hyperfixat]

hey!! I really love ur blog so so much rn! If you can, I'd like to request a neurodivergent MC? One that has certain foods they hate and have never told anyone since their family had forced them to try them since they were little? (Ex. Cauliflower, brussel sprouts, blueberries, bananas, carrots) and so, one day, when theyre all eating (at the HoL or just out) and they notice MC eating all but those foods on their plate? Sorry if this is a bit too specific, I just really can't write it properly for myself and i would like to have some form of comfort-

Anyway, have an amazing day!!

anon i am holding you so close rignt now this cured my writers block this is the first ask i’ve got in like two months TT 

i am incapable of writing anything not hurt comfort so there is some ‘oh man im so sad :(‘ at the beginning but yk if u said u like my writing i imagine u kinda expected this

warning for mentions of throw up and actually eating the bad foods :(

and yes yes yes i love writing explicitly nd mcs!! i added in another obstacle to the req; freaky demon food bcs thats always fun to consider. That way u can kinda make the demon food similar to whatever food u want in ur mind, anyhow, the words u wanted;

/

You push the pile of purple (purple!?) mashed… something from one corner of your plate to the center.  First you had to go to a strange demon school where all of your peers are so much scarier and larger than you and now you’ve been presented with whatever the hell this is for dinner.

You think Leviathan (Levi — it feels so odd referring to him so casually having just met him) was the one that made it.  There was a protein on the plate, you ate that with no issues, but. 

Urgh. This?

It’s your second night sleeping in the House of Lamentation and you don’t feel nearly comfortable or safe enough to get a snack on your own, especially at night. You’ve had such a long day at RAD and your body is dying for some food.

Disguising your disgusted reluctance with a carefully blank face, your grab some of the.  The stuff. 

Ah, nope.  You set your fork down quietly after taking a slow bite / swallow and grab your cup to drown the leftover flavors and textures.  

Luckily all the demon brothers seem pretty into their dinnertime banter and didn’t notice your… less than satisfactory reaction to the food.

Gosh, you don’t want to offend any of them, especially not so early on in the year you’ll have to room with them.  

It’s a good thing that Beelzebub is practically a food vacuum and doesn’t question the nearly untouched pile of. Well you know. Left over on your plate.

/

…It’s official. You hate Devildom cuisine.  

Is the universe playing one big, cruel joke on you?  What the hell is wrong with demons?  Why must the eat the worst things in the world?  Why… why… why?

Lucifer wouldn’t let you starve under his roof, and provides you with full meals and makes it clear what parts of the kitchen are free to raid (as not to take anything designated to anyone else).  You feel like the most ungrateful human in the whole wide world right now.

It’s been quite a few months since the start of the exchange program and you’ve been… getting by.  Okay, that’s not exactly true, you’ve been having a blast in most aspects of your stay in the Devildom.  Most.

There’s still the teeny tiny issue of the cuisine not quite fitting your tastes.  You’ve tried talking to Solomon about the Devildom cuisine and he tried to cheer you up with some authentic human world cuisine, but as it turns out his cooking is far worse than Devildom-style food.

Not to be dramatic, but you’re suffering in silence.  You get by, as in you’re not hungry – the demons you’ve grown oh so fond of wouldn’t let that happen.  They always seem willing to fetch you anything.  

You’re trying so hard not to hurt any feelings, because you love them and want to support them.  It’s just.  You want to throw up almost every meal.  (Barbatos’ little treats have been your saving grace – he always seems to have some yummy little snack on him.  One that you like and doesn’t make you feel like your throat is crawling out of your mouth.)

Most of the time the brothers don’t pay much thought to what you leave on your plate – as long as you eat some of what was served they seem content.  Even on nights where the meal is more nasty than good, it’s easy to just say you’re not that hungry.

This night was bound to happen at some point.  Your plate is uneatable.  It’s edible, just uneatable.  It’d be more humiliating to choke down a few bites than it is to go to bed hungry.  You wrinkle your nose when you think no one is looking and stab at the meat chunk.

Your eyes are downcast and you drag your knife lazily through the food.  It’s mesmerizing in a way, so much so that you don’t notice at first when Asmo calls your name.

“MC, is something wrong? Are you feeling alright?”  At this point he’s drawn the attention of his brothers as well.

“Yeah, you’re barely eating,” Mammon supplies.

Ah, the moment you’ve been dreading and hoped you would never have to face.

“Oh, I don’t have much of an appetite right now.”  Which certainly isn’t a lie.  

“You didn’t eat much at lunch, hon.” Asmo reaches across the table to put the back of his manicured hand on your forehead to feel for a fever.

You cringe, “uhm, well.  I’m.”  You fail to think of a decent lie quick enough – nothing you say will be believable as you mentally blue screen.

“Honest answer?”  Satan prods.

“I’m not the biggest fan of some Devildom foods.” “Not the biggest fan?”  Beel questions, “you dislike them enough to forgo eating entirely.”  

“I’m trying not to sound like an ungrateful jerk right now.  Give me a moment to word this properly.”

Satan scoffs. “Just say it.  Whatever you have to say can’t be worse than what we’ve put you through.”

“Damn, okay.  The food makes me wanna throw up when I eat it.”

Levi, the chef of the night, folds in on himself, face darkening with shame or embarrassment.

“It’s not a personal gripe, most meals have something that makes me feel that way, hon.” It seems your attempt to comfort him isn’t appreciated though, as Levi shoves his face in his hands.

Lucifer sets his fork down. “And why haven’t you said anything to any of us about this?  We want you to feel at home here.”

“You can’t expect me to be comfortable barging into what was at the time a strangers house and demand they make special accommodations for me, then once I was comfortable enough to say something I felt I put up with it long enough that it’d be odd to bring it up out of nowhere.”

“Fair enough,” Satan nods along.

“No? Not ‘fair enough’!” Mammon scolds.  “You shoulda said something to me!  Do you even like half the snacks I give you?  I spent good Grimm on those!”

Memories of bribing Beelzebub to do certain errands in the earlier days of your Devildom stay flicker through your mind.  “They got eaten.”

“MC,” Lucifer brings the conversation back on track.  “Let us know foods you don’t want to eat, we may be demons, but we’re here to provide you with a comfortable stay.”  You nod under his sincere gaze.  “Now, give your plate to Beel and order some delivery.  I’ll cover the costs, as long as you eat.”  

As you shove your plate across the table you see Lucifer pulling a shiny black card from his coat pocket.  He gestures for you to come and take it.  You walk to the head of the table and he presses the card into your hand. 

“Order whatever you’d like.  My treat.”  There’s a glint of humor in his eyes and you look down to see Goldie in your palm.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #om hcs #obey me hcs #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me headcanons #obey me headcanon #obey me x you #obey me demon brothers #hyperfixat answers

[teabutmakeitazure]

Clouded Gaze, Unequivocal Lust

>Yan! Childe x Fem! Reader

a/n: again, I don't know how this came to be, it just did

Warnings: physical assault, suggestive, mentions of pregnancy, ooc Childe(?), intimidating behaviour

Word count: 2k

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Dinner time. The worst part of your day and the most exhausting. It's when everyone is gone, safe for you two and you're forced to interact and eat with him. He analyses every word you say and every remark you make like an encrypted debt collection job. It honestly makes you sick.

So when you see him come back home with a lovesick smile instead of his usual calculating one, you feel even more on edge. Something definitely happened, something good. Even though the prospect of that should make you happy, it makes your stomach churn instead. Because in the end, you're the one who has to deal with him when he gets too happy.

You are the one at the receiving end of his overbearing affection and the one who has to deal with the after effects of it. Bruises from tight grips, a sore body in the morning and marks painted from his so-called passion.

"You seem distant today."

At least he somewhat cares about your feelings, enough to inquire about them once in a while. Though he doesn't let them stop him from taking what he wants, his possibly fake worry suffices to soothe your nerves at times.

"Just don't feel too well, that's all."

Childe narrows his eyes at you after that response. Drooping shoulders, tired eyes and a softer voice. When all three boxes check out, he puts back his smile and continues eating, not identifying your mood as a threat. Still, he decides to poke around a bit for good measure.

"What's wrong?"

Damn you carrot-head, you mentally seethe out. With no trace of frustration on your expression, you make eye contact and blatantly lie, "Nothing, just feel a bit down."

"Mhm."

You go back to eating after a few seconds of poking at the rice.

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

There's no way to say that you didn't almost choke on your food. Childe merely rests his face in his palm as he watches you down half a glass of water to stop coughing, obviously caught off guard at his question. Dull blue eyes roam your face and observe how life springs back into it despite the earlier lack of energy.

"What even," you sputter out, "why would you think that?"

He shrugs, smile now no longer present, "I just made a guess. So is it a yes or a no?"

"No, I'm not."

"Oh."

"If I was, I would've known."

"Right."

"Hey, I'm serious. What made you think that?"

For some reason, your suspicion of his good mood from earlier goes to that. He may have heard something incorrect from the staff.

"A little birdie told me," he grins.

You raise a brow at his cryptid words, obviously not buying it. "And who would this birdie be?"

"If I told you, it would ruin all the fun."

"This is fun to you?"

His grin merely widens teasingly, inviting you to solve it faster. However, you've been with Childe for quite a while, so you know when he's messing with you.

With no hesitation, you relax back into your seat and give him a deadpan expression. "You were just trying to get to me, weren't you?"

He shakes his head, hair swaying left and right. "I just wanted to lighten the mood."

"An actually funny joke would've been better."

"I prefer surprises."

"I'll keep that in mind."

With that, you grab your spoon and go back to eating to just get done with it. There's no telling what other nonsense he may spew if the silence stays. Oddly enough, he didn't even go about his day today. Maybe it wasn't a desk job day.

"Jokes aside, do you want to be pregnant?"

"No."

-

Like usual, morning comes with no trace of your husband beside you or in the house for that matter. He mostly leaves way too early in order to catch some extra training, which means that you can't see him off. Good because you'd rather not be awake for his goodbye kiss.

Daytime goes by rather smoothly without his presence to bother you, mostly being occupied with your own activities. You've even coaxed the head maid to let you out into the backyard at noon, allowing you to run around and seldomly collect flowers and dry them. If Childe notices the additional flowers on the vases, he doesn't speak of it.

Especially since in his eyes, you're making an effort to adjust. Though you hate him thinking that you're okay with all this, you can't bring yourself to correct him. If he thinks you're happy, then that just means less problems for you. Despite being a harbinger, he's childish and nosy, a combination you despise.

Even so, it's not like you have a choice. All you can do is grimace or sigh when you hear his footsteps again, not wanting to deal with the way his eyes roam your face at all times.

"I'm back!"

Oh how I wish you'd die in one of your daily jobs.

"Did you miss me?"

Before you can say anything, two arms slither around your waist, hands resting on your stomach. All words die in your throat when he rubs his cheek on your face. The flower and scissors are set down on the table as you grab its edge for composure. When you feel him smile against your cheek, you can't help but slightly grit your teeth.

"Flowers? Who for?"

"The vase near the staircase. I thought it would look better with more flowers in it."

"I see."

He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck now, sighing blissfully as his nose rubs against the skin.

“I hope you’re having a fun afternoon. I missed you so I thought I’d drop by before a meeting.”

How thoughtful. “A meeting?”

“Mhm. Did you wash your hair today? It smells nice.”

“I washed it yesterday…”

"No wonder it smells heavenly. It's your own scent."

Not given a chance to conjure up a response, his grip on you suddenly tightens. The strength he's using is borderline crushing you, and you're starting to fear for the safety of your ribs.

As panic settles in, dread slithers between the gaps when his face moves from your neck to your hair. Any possible sound dies in your throat as you feel it start to close up, not even registering the fact that a hand is wrapped around it.

"My love, had I wanted something so dry in this relationship, I would've gone for your corpse."

Your hand involuntary comes up to claw at his, the one handed choke already clouding your vision.

"I doll you up, please you, provide for you and fulfil your needs yet this is how you're showing gratefulness?"

The metacarpal bone of his thumb is pressing into your voice box and the fingertip leisurely pressing into your carotid artery with increasing pressure. Your head is spinning now, you realise, as there's hardly any strength left in your legs.

He laughs. The sick bastard just laughed in your ear like someone told a joke.

"As much as I love you being vocal, I think I'm in a more quiet mood."

Suddenly, you're spun around to face him but before you can even take in air, his lips are on yours. The hand that was on your throat slips under your shirt and runs over your back with a teasing pull to your bra hook. The other simply grabs a fistful of your hair, keeping your face in place and cutting off any air.

Legs almost jelly, you muster up any strength you can and push him away, gasping as your vision slowly comes back. His hand is still under your shirt as the other one grabs your face harshly. The two of you partake in a half-arsed staring contest as he scans your face while you fill your lungs with oxygen. When he so graciously lets go, your body is quick to lose balance and fall.

With hands now wrapped around the table leg for support, you're still in shock of what happened. Your mind goes through the events of the past few minutes in slow motion, failing to pay attention to the crazed eyes of the man in front of you. A scoff from him, and your body immediately reacts by scrambling backwards. As if being under the table could protect you from him.

“And here I was thinking you’d at least scream after that.”

Childe steps forward, blocking the light from the lamp behind him. It’s then when you see the blood stains on his grey winter coat and the splatter across his face. The light hits the back of his head, making the messier parts of his hair look like a sunset as his head is circled by a halo. He looks like a harbinger of death with that smile and dullness in his eyes.

“Come on sweetheart, you’re better than this. On your feet, get up.”

You merely hug the table leg tighter.

“Look,” he kneels down, “I’m giving you another chance. If you’re not going to respond, I’ll just try something else. I’m sick of this.”

Against your better judgement, you shake your head and attempt to speak but nothing comes out. Your throat feels impossibly dry and to the point of hurting when you try to say anything. At the revelation, you shake your head again, hoping that he’d get the hint.

“Really?”

You grab his coat, pulling it lightly with a pleading look.

“What is it?”

The tears in your eyes threaten to spill at any moment and for the second time, you feel your throat closing up.

"Well?"

Another breath prompts you to cough violently before you regain your voice a little, only able to hush out a little 'hurts'. Childe watches your pathetic state, trying to hide how your flushed face and weak exterior makes him dizzy in all the wrong ways. Oh he can't wait to absolutely ruin you.

"You'll be okay. Now get up." He tenderly cups your cheek to plant a kiss on your lips. "Come with me, I have something to show you."

"You're horrible," you whisper.

"I'm aware."

Voice raspy, you don't hesitate to look him in the eye with all the hatred you could muster, "I hate you."

"Not for long."

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

"Now get up. Do I have to repeat myself again?"

With a scowl, you allow him to grab you by the shoulders to help you stand. Your hand now unwillingly clasped in his, Childe leads you to your shared bedroom without any comments whatsoever. Once there, you're left in the middle of the room as he turns to lock the door.

Your heart drops when the click resonates through the silence, eyes cast down onto the floor as you focus on steadying your breathing.

"You haven't been talking to me like yourself recently."

Due to him being barefoot, there's no sound when he walks over to you and starts circling you like in an interrogation.

"Is there anything on your mind?"

You shake your head.

"Anyone on your mind?"

You shake your head again.

"Then why are you acting this way?"

He's right in front of you now, hands hanging at his sides as he stares you down with those cold blues.

"I'm not acting any certain way," you respond.

With narrowed eyes, he merely clicks his tongue and takes a step forward. The gravity of the situation weighs down on you when he caresses your lips with his finger.

"You're such a good kisser. I'm sure we could put those lips to good use."

Panic mixes with the blood pumping throughout your body as he starts unbuttoning his shirt, coat already forgotten on the coat rack.

"I've been busy so I didn't get to attend to you properly. I hope this makes up for it," he smiles. With his shirt sliding off his shoulders, he pulls you in by the neckline as he backtracks to the bed behind him.

"Wouldn't you bless me with your heavenly voice, sweetheart?"

#genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #childe x reader #yandere x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin x reader

[sarcasticfina]

For the prompts post if you are taking, 13 for buddie 💖

Im so glad to see you on my dash btw

i'm trying to get inspired to write fic so please send me some prompts from either of these sentence prompt lists: one, two (see original post for ship options)

13. Do you ever think we should just stop this? (credit)

It was late, and dark enough that Buck couldn't see much more than the outline of Eddie beside him. He should be sleeping. They had work tomorrow, and Chris had to be dropped off early for that science club he joined. Did Eddie pack his lunch already? They were a little distracted earlier...

In his defense, he hadn't seen Eddie outside of work for like... four whole days. That was a lot for them. Maybe he should double check the fridge. Chris had been snacking more lately. Another growth spurt. He could use an extra pack of carrot sticks or something anyway. Or maybe some of that trail mix he loved, even if he did add mini marshmallows to it, which wasn't exactly the healthiest snack...

"Stop thinking," Eddie grumbled. "Go t' sleep."

"Hey, did you pack Chris' lunch?"

Sighing, Eddie raised his head, hair in disarray, and squinted at him. "Huh? Yeah, I... Before. After dinner, I threw something together. Why? Is that what you're worrying about?"

"I'm not worried. I was just... wondering." Buck shifted around on the bed awkwardly and shrugged. "Did you add extra snacks? He's been eating more lately..."

"Uh-huh." Eddie dropped his head back down to the pillow. "Threw in some carrots and dip and some of that trail mix. Was like half marshmallows; you gotta stop letting him talk you into that."

"It was not half..." Buck rolled his eyes. "Anyway, it's balanced out with all the nuts and raisins and dried apricot."

"Mmm."

Buck drummed his fingers atop his stomach, blanket pulled up to his chest. "Should I go out to the couch? He might have questions if he wakes up before us."

Silence answered him. But not an 'Eddie fell asleep' silence, no. This was tense, 'how do I respond to that?' silence. The worst kind of silence.

"Eds?"

"I heard you. Just... Uh... Do you wanna sleep on the couch?"

Buck frowned at the ceiling. "Not exactly comfortable for my back."

"Okay. Then stay here. I can set an earlier alarm if you want..."

Buck hummed. "I should've planned better. I wasn't even gonna come over. I was going home but then I just... didn't." He glanced in Eddie's direction. "You know, we never really talked about what the like... boundaries are."

"...boundaries," Eddie repeated. "About sleeping over or...?"

"All of it. I mean." Buck shrugged. "We just kind of... started this... thing... and we didn't really talk about it."

"Thing..."

"Historically, I'm the impulsive one, but you're not, so maybe I was expecting you to take the reins on how to handle this. Not that I was planning for us to become this. And it's not all on you, obviously."

"This thing?" Eddie sounded a little amused now and Buck frowned.

"I just don't want to overstep. Or make assumptions. Or... I don't know. I don't want to risk this... us... i don't want to do anything that might hurt Chris."

Eddie didn't respond immediately, and that heavy silence filled the room again. "What are you saying... exactly?"

"I guess..." Buck sat up and shuffled backwards. "I mean, do you ever think we should just stop this? Just go back to how it was before? Before we tried to be... more."

Eddie let out a quiet sigh and then he was shifting to sit up too, his back resting against the headboard. He rubbed a hand over his face. "Okay. First, Chris is fine. He will be fine."

"But how do you know?"

"Because he's Chris. Because he loves us and we love him. Because no matter what happens, I know you will always be a part of his life. Even if, somehow, this thing blows up in our faces, you will always put Chris first."

Buck swallowed a lump. "Yeah."

"And second, yes, we should've talked. Especially if you've been worrying about what we are. Maybe I had more time to figure out how I felt and come to grips with what it meant, I don't know. But... Evan, you're it. You're... I mean, I hope you feel the same way I do. I guess I just thought we were on the same page with how we felt. And now we're together. Boyfriend feels a little high school, but, uh, we've always been partners. Now we're just another version of that."

Warmth bloomed in Buck's chest. Partners. Yeah, that sounded right. He turned to look at Eddie, whose features were still mostly shrouded in darkness. "You're it for me too."

Eddie's shoulders slumped. "Yeah?" His voice was softer, filled with relief.

Buck grinned. "You're stuck with me for life."

Reaching over, Eddie took his hand and folded their fingers together. "Good."

"Sorry I was freaking out."

"You get in your head sometimes; I should know better. In future, we'll work on talking it out instead of waiting until..." He glanced at the old man alarm clock on his bedside table. "Dios, 2 am. Tomorrow's gonna suck."

"Whoops." Buck shuffled down the bed and pulled him along, turning onto his side to rest his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hooked an arm around him, fingers folding around his ribs. "You can sleep in. I'll bring Chris to science club and double back for you."

Eddie mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'I love you so much,' and then pressed a kiss to Buck's birthmark. "Go to sleep, cariño."

Anxiety assuaged, Buck listened.

#buddie #buck x eddie #buddie fanfic #fanfic #prompt fill #nonny #ask reply

[saatorubby]

Hi, I luv yr writings. Just wondering if you could write for Vil, Rook and Silver when their s/o is taking care of them when they are turn into a child? Thanks😉

These two requests are similar so I thought that I'll just do them together. @unicornwithachainsaw83

Request: vil, rook and silver have turned into children, now their s/o has to take care of them.

A/n:

first part with leona, azul and kalim here

second part with idia, malleus and riddle here

fourth part with floyd, lilia and jamil here

Warnings: rook typical stalking, gn!reader

Vil schoenheit

You were going to see your boyfriend at pomefiore when epel and rook arrived, looking panicked.

They explained that vil had gotten into an alchemy incident after trying to make some new skin care for himself.

Vil is not very different as a kid except he's even more beautiful now and is very willing to use that as an advantage.

You would have no problem dealing with him, but I can't say the same for the others.

In your company vil will be a complete gentleman, would not mess up anything. But everybody else? They will have the worst time with him.

He is demanding, strict and extremely bratty. He just refuses to play with people he doesn't like and demands for you to come back too when your doing something or, are busy. The only person he gets along with is rook.

So you how he's very blunt and criticises everybody? Yeah but it's ten times worst.

He will be going around like 'I don't like your shirt' and 'a giraffe has better make up skills than you'.

Also kinda feral?? I can see him kicking leona in the shins after leona made fun of him (crouching down in front of him and all).

Very good at stranger danger thing. If anyone he doesn't recognise tries to talk to him, he will immediately punch them and would run away.

Loves to play tea party, especially with you.

"Well, I was still as beautiful as I am now wasn't I, my sweet potato?

Rook hunt

Rook is the complete opposite of vil, he is very shy as a child.

He doesn't say much but when he does it's usually to compliment something or someone.

Rook loves archery, so he'll usually ask you to take him outside so he can play around.

Even though he's shy, he loves to go out, like in nature. Also would love if you take him to the forests outside of school for a walk or a picnic.

Rook still loves to hunt, so instead of beast men, he chases around actual animals like rabbits or butterflies when you two go out in the forest, he also loves to take the pictures of them.

Also gets along with grim. I don't think grim likes him much but rook loves grim that's how he gets roped into babysitting duty alongside you.

Rook is a very clean child. When he plays with toys (his bow and arrow) he diligently cleans up his space and puts them back in their places.

Rook also eats his veggies, he loves carrots but for some reason, he hates green bell peppers and green bell peppers only.

He loves it when you two watch movies together.

He'll snuggle up to you with blankets to his chin. As he watches the movie with fascination.

"Ah, mon amour, thank you for looking after me."

Silver

He's just a sleepy boi. He just likes to sleep.

He was probably sleeping when he turned into a child. He woke up as a toddler.

So silver is a verrryy good boy. He doesn't bother anyone, eats his food and sleeps. That's basically the only things he does.

He loves his new pillow though, which is you.

Lilia was over the moon when you turned up to diasomnia with child silver. He started lamenting about how he missed his little boy and somehow y'all ended up going through lilia's old album of his children.

Lilia tries to feed him but you somehow come up with a lame-ass excuse and bolt out of the diasomnia to your own dorm

Malleus is glad to be free of his retainers for once. Since silver is a baby, lilia is trying to feed his child and sebek is busy pulling lilia back and failing miserably.

Grim gets along with sliver very well, they both just curl up together and nap on your lap all day long.

Sliver does like napping in the garden though, where all of his animal friends can snuggle up to him.

He also lives playing knight with you, where he is the knight, grim the big bad monster and you are prince(ss) stuck in the castle. You had to coax grim with tuna to let silver win

"...so I turned into a child? Bet old ma- lilia-sama had a blast with that."

#vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney tw #disney's twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst vil schoenheit #twst rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #twst silver #silver x reader #silver #pomefiore #pomefiore x reader #diasomnia #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #twst headcanons #lilia vanrouge #leona kingscholar

[harlowcomehome]

dad!jack talking care of reader when there pregnant and they have a really bad ranch craving (like they would take a shot of ranch) !!! feel like it would be some good old nice fluff

“Intense cravings.”

Being pregnant with your first baby was nothing like you expected it to be. You had heard the horror stories, seen the videos online, you mentally prepared yourself for the worst but typically most days, you were fine.

The only thing you were surprised by was your pregnancy cravings. They were intense and random, usually something you didn’t eat on an average day.

At first you were super embarrassed by it. You didn’t want to bother Jack so you’d go to the store yourself or DoorDash something.

Once he realized what you were doing he teased you “pretty girl, just tell me you want something and I’ll get it. Don’t be shy, it’s a little late for shy.”

He tickled the underside of your belly, making you giggle.

“I don’t want you to judge me for what YOUR daughter has me eating” you smiled to yourself.

“Oh, MY daughter huh?” He wrapped his arms around you from behind, tickling your belly again.

“Baby! Stop! You’re going to make me have to pee!” You giggled and he turned you around to face him.

“What are we craving today?” He spoke directly to your belly and when you didn’t answer he looked up at you.

“Oh, I thought you were asking baby Harlow? She didn’t tell you?” You teased and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, I know you’re craving something! You gotta be!”

“Strawberries with cream cheese!” You said excitedly and he laughed. “Luckily we have both of those things” he smiled “go sit on the couch baby, make yourself comfy.”

Jack had always been very nurturing and loving but it was amplified more so now that you were pregnant. You got comfortable on the couch as he washed the strawberries for you. “I’m surprised you want something sweet, that’s new!” He shouted from the kitchen.

You poked at your belly button that was already trying to poke out, “yeah I know, weird right?”

Jack walked over to you with a bowl and you noticed he had one too “this one was Harlow approved?” You wiggled an eyebrow at him and laughed.

“I mean, it sounds good” he laughed and sat beside you. He also brought you some water and you looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Baby, you need to drink more water. Don’t sass me” he teased and you shook your head and laughed but you knew he was right.

The two of you watched a few episodes of your favorite show when you started to nod off.

“Sleepy baby?” He rubbed your belly and gave it a quick kiss before readjusting so you could lay your head on his lap. You were sleepily playing with his beard as he flipped through Netflix looking for another show. He didn’t say anything to you, but he smiled, you knew he always liked that.

Eventually you fell asleep, woken up only by an intense craving.

You rubbed your eyes and he noticed immediately that you were awake “oh thank god, baby I really have to pee” he laughed and you sat up with a giggle “next time just wake me up!“

Your husband ran by you quickly and shrugged, “you looked too peaceful!”

You laughed as you heard him in the bathroom letting out a sigh of relief. You pulled your phone out and started to google “ranch chicken recipes” for some reason you woke up craving ranch. You laughed to yourself thinking “yeah you’re definitely Jacks daughter.”

You shuffled to the kitchen checking your fridge for ranch, hoping maybe you can eat some baby carrots or something. You didn’t find anything, you turned and saw Jack headed toward you. “Hungry baby?” He asked as you looked through the fridge in a hurry.

“We don’t have any ranch?”

He looked at you confused “ranch?”

“You don’t even like ranch?” He smiled when it dawned on him “the baby is making you crave ranch?”

“I mean I guess? I really want some” you scratched at your belly lightly and pouted.

“This little girl is going to be my mini me isn’t she?” You could’ve sworn he had hearts for eyes after saying that.

“I think so!” You laughed and he smiled “hmm, how bad is your craving?” He was just trying to tease you now.

“I could literally drink that shit with a straw.”

Jack laughed at that “you’re so cute when you get cravings baby. Do you want wings or pizza? I can order some and make sure they give us a big thing of ranch?”

You practically drooled at the thought “pizza! Please!“

He laughed and took out his phone “I’ll even let you drink the remaining ranch” he winked and you laughed “I was being dramatic Jackman!”

He shrugged “hey! I don’t judge baby. Whatever you and baby H want.” He rubbed your belly and gave it a kiss before he started ordering.

You smiled knowing you picked a really good person to raise a family with.

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfic #dad!jack

[nehswritesstuffs]

HEART PIRATES WEEK 2024 - Part 4 of 9

I told myself last year that I was going to participate in Heart Pirates Week this year, and by thunder I'm going to participate in Heart Pirates Week!

Day Four: Ikkaku - Night

669 words; this is me pouring one out to the times I worked late shifts, especially the midnights; this one is very safe for work, actually, but does reference potentially disordered eating out of one (1) individual, so that’s a thing to watch for I guess; again: what is proofreading lol

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Shift assignments were honestly not the worst thing in the world, but honestly… most of them had experienced much worse. Three sets of mandatory shifts, eight hours each; that would last for a month before everything was reassigned, four shifts of six hours. The months would cycle as such, with people getting shuffled back and forth with little care as to where they ended up. Things were always new and different that way. Besides, most people still hung out with one another even when they weren’t on their mandatory shift, making things somewhat different from the traditional sailing vessels.

Then again, when one rides in a submarine in a world of sail and paddle boats, everything is a little different, isn’t it?

The only thing that wasn’t different, Ikkaku knew, was the overnight shift. It was her sixth month in a row working the overnight detail and she was beginning to wonder if the goobers that drew the lots every month had it out for her. Uni had tagged her out of the boiler room for a break, allowing her the chance to head to the top deck and enjoy the breeze that they were afforded thanks to giving the engines a break and unfurling their own sail.

It was quiet, peaceful even, as she listened to the soft sound of the waves against the metal hull of the ship. They had already passed into the climate zone of an Autumn Island, the gentle currents guiding them the rest of the way to their destination. It was the sort of silence that was reassuring and calming for some and yet restless and loud for another. A thought of the Captain crossed her mind; he was likely pacing around his tiny cabin with no sleep, no dinner, and no plans to rectify either. She sighed heavily; might as well check.

Trying to not make too much noise, Ikkaku went back below deck to the mess hall, where she found the log where everyone who watched the Captain eat something. It was last updated by Bepo that morning (dry breakfast cereal, coffee, banana); the math wasn’t difficult. When she couldn’t find whichever idiot was supposed to be on kitchen duty, she scraped together what she could find (an apple, some carrots with salad dressing, a tin of herring) and brought it along with the herbal tea that Bepo instructed everyone how to make. She went to the Captain’s quarters with the tray in-hand and knocked on the door. Sure enough, Law opened it much faster than if he had been sleeping, and the stack of books and papers on his desk wasn’t helping any.

“What’s this?” He eyed the contents of the tray and scowled, realization slowly creeping onto his face. “I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

“How do you know?”

“A birdie told me. Now are you going to eat or am I going to have a snack while I clean out the boilers?”

The Captain thought about that for half a second before taking the tray and closing the door behind him. Ikkaku stood there and waited for his brain to catch up, then his manners. In moments he was opening the door again with a cowed expression on his face.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. “I know you’re not my mom, or my maid. Mechanics have better things to do than watch over me.”

“That’s right,” she replied. “I will beat your ass if I catch you not eating on my shift when you’re up during it. You understand?”

“Yeah.” He didn’t make eye contact as they stood there, the doorway suddenly feeling rather small. “Can I go now?”

Ikkaku patted the Captain atop his head and smirked. “Yeah.” He then retreated quickly, which allowed her to head back to the mess hall and write down in the log that food was at least accepted before she got back to Uni and the boiler room.

At least she knew the rest of her sift would be quiet.

#One Piece #One Piece fan fiction #Heart Pirates Week #Heart Pirates Week 2024 #HeartPiratesWeek #HeartPiratesWeek2024 #Ikkaku #Ikkaku (One Piece) #Trafalgar Law #part of why I love staying up late is bc fewer people to interrupt me historically speaking #(living at home until your mid-thirties does that) #and I did used to work some late shifts both in retail and manufacturing #in fact at the latter I'd be done early but my ride wouldn't be up for another three hours so I'd write fic in the meantime lol #I think I'll upload one more for today but it might not be until late

[buckybarnesb-tch]

Random Thought: Bucky Barnes

Chef!Bucky Barnes

Bucky Barnes as a Chef

He is trying to get used to real food again after years of supplements and IVs or being force fed through a tube to keep him going as the Winter Soldier. He discovers after watching cooking videos online that the act of cooking is actually quite calming for him. He quickly learns what he likes and what he doesn’t, willing to try almost anything just to see if he enjoys something new.

Bucky loves sweet things! Just about any fruits except honeydew and cantaloupe, his favorite is plums! He’s also a big fan of grapes (green, not red) and peaches. Bananas and apples he can take or leave, and he loves watermelon.

He’s not a huge fan of sour things. He can handle spicy foods to a very high level without getting sick (he ate a ghost pepper by accident once) though he is picky about what spicy things he likes and he loves jalapeños.

He can chop vegetables faster than anyone else in the kitchen so when they needs things chopped in bulk Bucky just gets a cutting board and chops cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes and lettuce for 20 minutes and they’re set all day.

He can pick pans and trays up out of the oven without an oven mit with his left hand. Also, thanks to employees needing to wear gloves in the kitchen he can use the metal hand in front everyone. If after hours or before opening, anyone ever asks why he wears the gloves while not handling food he tells them he had an accident in the kitchen and got severely burned so no one ever minds that he never takes the glove off of his left hand.

He exclusively works in the kitchen so he rarely has to interact with anyone other than the other Chefs. He also has a fantastic memory, and never once gets an order wrong.

He makes friends with the other chefs and they share recipes, and one of them gets Bucky into baking as well. After work every day he will make himself something for dinner, take it home and set it on the counter. He’ll mix whatever it is that he’s trying next and put it into the oven before eating his dinner. Bucky loves brownies and he’s gotten good at making cake, just trying to make a 2 tier cake for the first time and it actually turned out pretty good. His absolute favorite though is banana bread, it is fantastic and he makes at least one, usually 2 every week so that he can have some for breakfast before he runs out the door every morning.

Bucky is people’s worst nightmare if he ever sees a waitress cry. The waitresses are all very nice to Bucky, and only one of them seems to be that way only because they think he’s attractive, he has a soft spot for them. Especially since they deal with the customers so he doesn’t have to, he feels for them knowing how cruel humans can be, even about the dumbest things. But if a customer takes it too far, if someone makes it personal, insulting or bitching at a waitress, Bucky will leave the kitchen. Everyone who works there knows Bucky leaving the kitchen is always a bad thing. He comes in the back door and leaves through the back door, there’s also an employee bathroom so he never has to enter the dining room, so when he does something is very wrong. Bucky is an intimidatingly large man, though everyone in the restaurant knows he’s basically a Pit bull puppy, sweet, gentle, loving and misunderstood for the way he looks. (Bucky Barnes really is exactly like a Pit bull! Only mean because people made him that way, always putting his trust in humans again after being fucked over and is the most kind hearted thing you’ve ever met in your life. Bucky Barnes is a Pitty!)

Bucky will remove all the plates from their tables and dump them into the trash right in front of you, and if he has to actually speak no one will get a word in edgewise. His voice is loud and deep, it commands attention and most grown men wouldn’t have the balls to snap back at him and the ones that try live to regret it. Bucky is a pro at getting people to swing first, as long as they do he is legally allowed to toss you out of the restaurant and he is more than happy to do it. He would never hit a women, however he will ensure she can’t swing at him again before carrying her out of the building, and for any man, (though there have only been 2 who are courageous enough to hit Bucky) they learn quickly that that’s stupid. One hit and they’re on the floor, one of the men was so dizzy he actually had to crawl out of the restaurant.

Bucky as a chef would be fantastic. Plus, I dare you to tell me that Bucky Barnes with his hair in a little bun while he cooks isn’t the cutest thing you’ve ever thought about in your life!

He can cook for me any day🥵🥵

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #the winter soldier #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes headcanon #marvel fic #captain america #the avengers #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky x oc #bucky imagine #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan imagine #bucky barnes au #Chef!Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x female oc #bucky x plus size reader

[lovehotelreservation]

Deeper Than the Ocean Is - Monday

Summary: Habit or fate–there was an aspect to your life that was nigh impossible to break away from.

And that was your devotion to the sons of Rosfield, and their devotion to you.

[Contains plot spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI]

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Joshua/F!Reader/Clive

[Next Chapter]

idk i was watching mr jungkook's seven video and i couldn't help but think his hair looked like joshua's elegant mullet 🧍

----------------

It was a day like any other.

You, Joshua, and Clive–all seated at the large dining table of Byron’s grand estate. Rather than restoring Rosaria as a whole to become a desperate clutch at former glory, the effort to re-develop the duchy into the welcoming haven that Elwin always dreamed of required some needed attention from its two former royal inheritors. 

This was especially the case while Valisthea in its entirety slowly stepped forward into a future that was free from the demanding rule of magic.

Yet while citizens from each region steered themselves together with hopeful eyes towards the change that awaited for everyone in the days to come, some habits were still firmly and stubbornly rooted in the past.

Namely the poked, prodded yet uneaten scoop of glazed carrots on Joshua’s plate.

The lingering orange presence only deepened the pout on your lips and strengthened the grip of your fingers on your fork.

While Clive watched on with amusement from the side in-between bites of his steak, you had spent the past few minutes trying to get his brother to part his lips to eat the single piece of carrot that you skewered just for him.

“I don’t see why you still harbor such a grudge against carrots, Joshua. They’re good for you!”

While the look in his eyes twinkled with affection towards you, even he couldn’t hold back his exasperation as he dodged each offering of your fork. “While good and blessed in nutrients, there are simply better foods to savor.”

“And such is why you will always be my baby brother, Joshua.”

Both you and Joshua snapped your heads towards Clive, who only grinned teasingly as he proceeded to effortlessly cut himself another piece of steak with one stroke of his knife.

Needless to say, Joshua was aghast. 

“Clive! You would go so far to say tha–ack…!”

And prone to ambush.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you took his slackened jaw as the opportunity you needed to finally plunge your fork into his mouth.

His baby blue eyes widened, his tongue retracting in his mouth slightly to avoid having to savor the taste beyond the glazed sauce and right to the heart of the carrot, which in turn led him to cough in repulsion when his panic caused his worst fear to transpire.

You were pleased.

Clive was laughing.

Joshua was soon plotting.

His intentions made itself known in the form of his voice as he spoke, his tone dipping an octave down.

“If there is something that you must insist on having me taste, please indulge me with choice at least…”

Suddenly, it was your turn to seek avoidance of any contact.

Yet without another word and his lips curling into a grin, Joshua went on to slip down beneath the table, positioning himself over to right before where you sat. Feeling your hands grasp at your thighs, you only shuddered as they were parted, granting him more space for him to plant his lips against your inner thigh, his kisses quick and eager to settle right between your legs.

While you were caught up in the beginnings of what would be Joshua’s relentless retaliations, you gasped as you then took note of the presence that was now standing behind you instead. You soon felt large hands move down to rest upon your shoulders before giving them an affectionate squeeze, which contrasted with the pressure applied–an unspoken request for you to remain in place just before they moved to cup your breasts.

From even partnering up with you to now joining in on Joshua’s revenge.

You couldn’t hold back your whine.

“Clive, you too?”

He was all smiles in response, taking the moment to lean down and bring his lips along the side of your neck, dragging it up towards your cheek.

With this, his lips then fell by your ear, his voice in a low murmur as he declared,

“What can I say–if my younger brother is being antagonized, I simply must step in.”

With your panties pushed aside as Joshua’s mouth now happily planted upon right in-between your thighs and Clive’s big and heavy hands massaging and groping your breasts, you truly felt like you were in the heart of paradise.

After all, it was another day spent with these two.

----------------

another day, another founding chapter for what could be a new fic collection owo ty for reading!!!

#clive rosfield x reader #joshua rosfield x reader #final fantasy xvi #final fantasy xvi spoilers #ffxvi spoilers #final fantasy 16 spoilers #reader insert #Deeper Than the Ocean Is #Fic #super freaknasty writing

[vitaliskravtsov]

Could I do #48 for the song prompt? (For parswoops ofc bc I am nothing if not predictable)

okay so this is a PERFECT pimms song but tbh... it's also GOLD for just anything with Kent, so I was SO PUMPED when I saw what you'd picked

48) boy - maisie peters

Boy, you think I'm dumb, tryna pull one on me like I've never been kissed You had a couple of exes and I know that they let you get away with it But you're a boy And I can tell that you've never been hugged boy And I can do better than this, oh better than this

Kent's first NHL goal is a beautiful power play goal from a mess in front of the net, and Jeff wants nothing more than to hug him, so he does.

Or, well, he tries.

Kent is flying around the ice, yelling his blonde head off, avoiding absolutely any contact until he slows enough to get to the bench and get his fist bumps and a little cuff on the shoulder from the captain.

He does come back for little acknowledgements, but that moment, right after his goal - he's totally, wholly alone.

Jeff sends up a little prayer of thanks that people's attitudes and team cohesion aren't topics reporters like to drill him on.

It's not as notable, after that, that Kent ducks away from hugs, both on ice and in the locker room. He doesn't do anything as showy as that first night, but he still slips out, slides from under the plies, takes only claps of recognition instead of full body slams, leaves people behind to slam themselves into walls, makes it so that he's never the tactile center of anything.

It's a little weird, because Jeff's seen pictures of his Memorial Cup run, and he's not sure anything could have fit between the top line of that team when they were cellying. So it's, you know. It's a little insulting, if nothing else.

And then, come December, Kent's drunk and kissing Jeff, and Jeff's sure it's a one-time thing, and then it's not. They're making out in every available closet, perpetually going out on dates, staying in and hanging out and watching old vampire rom-coms as an excuse to eat shitty pizza on Jeff's couch instead of in Lamby's basement, and it's.

The thing is, Kent still won't let Jeff hold him. Kiss him? Sure. Pin him? Yeah. Smack his hand away from the carrots he's chopping up for salad? Okay.

But a hug after a bad game? Nope. Cuddling while watching what is arguably one of the worst movies Jeff's ever seen? Abso-fucking-lutely not.

The first time he tried, Kent practically jumped six feet in the air and almost ran out the door of the apartment, and the only thing that kept him in was the fact that it was 2am in Vegas, and he hadn't bought a coat.

Jeff's let him get away with it because, like, personal space and improvement.

But it's April, and the Aces are mathematically out of the playoffs, just barely eked out by the fucking Flames, and Kent still won't let Jeff do anything for him.

Jeff is, just a little bit, fucking done.

It comes to a head after they lose in a spectacular blowout against the Wild, 6-0, last road game of the season. They make it back to the room, and Kent immediately drops the cover he'd had in the hallway to duck questions from vets, plops down on the bed, and goes dead to the world.

Jeff sits down on the bed next to him and gently, gently, rests his hand on Kent's spine.

"Hey," he whispers.

Kent jumps, tenses.

"Don't fucking touch me," he hisses, shrinking into himself.

Jeff's hands fly into the air.

"Whoa, hey, I'm sorry," he says, voice defensive. "I was just trying to be nice to my boyfriend, don't mind me."

"You could not," Kent growls into his pillow.

"Don't do that," Jeff spits back. "Don't do the fucking I'm angry I'm an asshole so I'm gonna yell at Jeff about it thing, that's not fucking fair to me."

"Shut up," Kent tells him, and puts a pillow over his head. He signs something, angry and sharp, and though it's not one Jeff knows (he's got "I love you", "Thanks", and "What" down, but that's about it), he knows it's one Kent signs often to the person who takes up so much space in Kent's head it's intolerable, sometimes.

"I'm not him," Jeff nearly yells. "I'm not going to tear you down, I'm not going to hit you or... or... fucking die! I don't know, okay, but I'm not him, and if you don't..."

He takes a deep breath.

"If you don't know that, that I'm not him, then I can't do this, because I can't do that to myself, and I can't let you do that to yourself, either."

He slides off the bed, puts on his shoes, grabs his duffel from next to the door.

"I love you," he whispers to the silent room, and he slips out the door.

#parswoops #kent parson #jeff swoops troy #jeff troy #ask #ask answered #omgcp #omgcheckplease #*mine #pinkviper #sorry this took so long <3333

[real-jane]

home fires

[bucky barnes x reader]

__

summary: two people starved for touch from the one person they’re allowed to have. she’s home now—what's next?

words: 4k+

a/n: I did NOT set out to make the follow up to your own spicy but HERE WE ARE. enjoy!! took inspiration from 'house shaped heart' by nikita gill (at the end).

poems and promises masterlist

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It's when you're snoring on his shoulder that Bucky realizes his worst fear has not come true:

Yes, he has something to lose, but you're no longer the thing he longs for, out of reach. You are here.

If you were conscious, you'd see how he flinches at the thought, squeezing you tight enough to make you wheeze. But then--you'd spring from your comfortable posture and kiss him again, and he'd remember why he drove three hours one way to retrieve you. Not like he regrets it. He can't even bring himself to rouse you after pulling up in front of the house and turning off the engine. He might sleep in the truck, sitting up all night to make sure you're comfortable.

When you do finally stir, and stare blearily up at him in confusion for a second before smiling lovingly, he is reminded that you want him. Bringing you home was the better part of getting you back. There's no way he'll lose you again.

"Hi."

"We're here," he says.

You stretch your arms over your head, and cringe when the chilly air touches your belly. "Mm. That was fast."

"Time flies when you sleep through the whole drive," he chuckles.

He slides out of the truck, tugging you with him. He's tempted not to let you walk, but you shiver in his arms. Bucky presses you against the door the moment it's shut, in case you've gotten wise to his desperation to have you back again, and your feet remember how to walk away. You tuck yourself between the placate of his coat, the one which has never seen a dewy morning, and peer up at him all sleepy and gorgeous... he shakes his head.

"Let's get you out to the barn to make your apologies to Alpine," Bucky murmurs. And to meet her. The horse he bought with you in mind. You'll be so mad, but he found her 'special, straight off the community board in the Sinclair gas station, hanging right over the motor oil, and Alpine likes her, and-

You cup his cheek. "Not tonight, Buck."

"Name a better time."

"Tomorrow."

Bucky scoffs. "Wha-you're kidding me? That horse won't eat a single carrot outta my hand, and you wanna deprive him until tomorrow?"

You giggle. "Tonight... it's half over, baby. You tellin' me you want only three measly hours to show me what I've been missing for two weeks?" You smile bigger as his scowl deepens. Bucky feels his cheeks flush. "I think the big galoot will forgive me. Not so sure about you."

He narrows his eyes. "Fine. Don't blame me when he won't even greet ya tomorrow."

"You missed me.”

The accusation lands like the gentle tease it's meant as, but his chest aches. He nods once. "Feels right, you bein' here. You fit."

"Is that so?"

"Since that first night, I think," he says, allowing his mouth to turn up at one corner in fond remembrance of how well you adapted, even though you weren't in the best mood on the night you arrived all those weeks ago. "All pissy with Steve for not letting you pack anything yourself, grumbling about how cold it was, and still-you plonked right down on the porch in my granny's rocking chair like it was yours."

Your face lights up. You duck under his arm (as he raised his hand to rake his hair back in mock frustration), and yank him towards the porch. "Your bag, doll?"

"Forget it." You bypass the pair of rocking chairs in which you had sat next to Bucky with a glass of bourbon enough times to call it ritual, and pull him to the swing. He sits at your insistence, and holds fast to your hand when you try to dart away again. You clock his frown and brush his chin. "Still got a bottle behind the desk?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Yeah."

"This a special enough occasion to break it open?"

"Yes, but uh..." he scratches his chin. "Been drinkin' too much since you left. Rather not, tonight." Bucky tugs you to stand between his knees. "I wanna feel everything."

Your eyes crinkle at the corners. "That first night. I didn't want to come," you admit softly. "But one glass of your bourbon, sitting in that rocking chair, and I thought... 'maybe it won't be so bad, if he's offering me the good stuff.'"

He swallows hard, nodding. "I was scared shitless, darlin'."

"Of what?"

"You. You shook my hand like you didn't know who I was."

"Buck--compared to who was after me, you were a godsend. And I was too fucking cold to think, anyway."

"I know. Drove me bananas, seein' you shivering, and you had the gall to ask me for a blanket so you could 'conk out on the couch,' as if I'm some caveman who would'a let ya!"

"Caveman, no. Cowboy?" You snicker. "Definitely. I don't care how much city there is in you, baby, you're all cowboy now."

"Is that supposed to be some sorta euphemism for 'gentleman?'"

"I guess. Cavemen don't have custom Stetsons, and you haven't yet worn the Olathe brand off the soles of your shit-kickers, cowpoke... except, what are those, James?" You point at his shearling-lined loafers.

Bucky shrugs. "Slippers."

"You drove six hours in fuzzy slides to rescue me?"

"I wasn't considering my footwear, doll! I had a harebrained idea, I ran out the door."

"Mm. You like me."

He chuckles against his will. "Believe I said no such thing."

"Well, I think you're okay." You curl your fingers over the collar of his shirt. It's the one you most often stole on chilly mornings... the one which still smelled like you after you left. Bucky gestures for you to lean down. When you don't lean far enough, he cups your nape and stands over you. "Bucky... I–you know our time together meant so much to me," you whisper. The teasing tone has fled from your voice, now that you're close enough to study his irises. "I wanna make sure you... want this. Me. I got on your nerves a lot–"

"Every second, honey." Bucky cradles your cheeks in his palms. "Nobody else I'd rather be annoyed by. Christ, I can't look Alpine in the eye after how I acted the night before you left."

"You cooked for me."

Bucky nods. "I hoped it would make you stay."

"I wanted you to ask."

"Didn't have the words. I thought linguine with shrimp would say it all, this far from the ocean."

"God. Do you know how much I cried that night? Mmph. Turned my face into the pillow so you wouldn't hear me." You press your forehead into his shoulder in imitation of what you're describing. Bucky rubs your back.

"...I heard you, doll."

"Why didn't you come up?"

"Why–well. Imagine for a minute, you're me: run-of-the-mill cowpoke who looks an awful lot like a guy who used to terrorize Captain America," he starts. You sigh, but nod for him to go on. "I can't show my face in polite society. This is my granddad's farm, honey. If I didn't have a blood claim to it, not one soul on this earth would've sold me a slice of land. It sucks having to drive an hour into civilization for coffee which doesn't come outta a red can. The water is cloudy, and it only gets hot on its own terms. Half the time, the acre immediately surrounding the house is just mud from all the rain, at least in the spring. Why would I have ever expected that the woman of my dreams was crying about leaving this piece of just-my-luck? This ain't heaven, baby. It ain't even next door. I thought you were desperate to leave me, and your tears were ones of relief."

You kiss him.

Clear as Bucky can figure, you're trying to drive the point home that this is what you want, but it's so desperate the way you worry his top lip, he can't help but groan. All he ever wanted was to be wanted. Here you are, making sweet little noises of protest when his lips take a languid drag, threatening like he might stop-asking for the air to vanish between you so you can get closer. You are sweet like your favorite tea. Bucky never would've thought kisses should taste like chamomile, but now he's kissing the only woman he's ever made a cup of tea for, and it feels right. Your movements slow as you melt into his chest, but your lips part to allow his tongue egress and his cock strains behind his zipper. You shiver-from excitement or from the chill, he can't tell-and Bucky pulls back enough to observe your face. Blissed out, sleepy, and cold. He huffs a laugh and gives you a peck.

Bucky ushers you into the warm house. The door clatters behind you, and you gasp. Bucky turns as tears spring up in your eyes.

"Hmm?"

"No. I'm just. I'm here." The last part comes out like a whisper.

Bucky folds as soon as you raise your arms, clasping both of his around your waist and lifting you off the ground. You bury your face in his neck and sniffle.

"Happy tears?" he murmurs into your hair.

"Mmhm." Your throat catches around the tears which no longer restrain themselves. "Remember when you shoved me into a cold shower the night I couldn't wake up from the terrors?"

"I got just as wet," he teases, feeling his collar dampening. "What made you think of that?"

"You held me, shrieking like a wet cat to high heaven, and the next morning, all I could remember was you holding me."

"All I ever wanted to do."

You tap his shoulder so he'll set you on your feet, but you lock your hands behind his head to prevent him from going far. Your eyes shine from tears, and the wrinkle between your eyebrows deepens.

"What?"

"You don't really know me-"

"What I don't know will come with time." Bucky kisses your forehead.

"I'm a mess."

"You're perfect."

You swipe tears from your face and glare, which only makes him smile more. "You don't have your head on straight."

"At least you see me for what I am," he laughs.

"Bucky-"

He dislodges your hands from their iron grip and holds them in his own. "Listen. You're tired, I'm delirious... I have a bed with your name on it, and all I've been dreaming about is waking up with you still there. Let me tuck you in? In the morning, after you've thoroughly apologized to Alpine for abandoning him, I'll make you waffles, and you can question all my motives while I try to kiss all the maple syrup off your lips. Do we have a deal?"

"Okay. Wait-Jesus, what am I gonna do all the way out here, for a job?"

He blinks. "...You're serious?"

"Not gonna freeload off you, Barnes."

"I'd love your help around the farm obviously, and showing the horses, but I have money which has been accruing interest in the bank for eighty years, so. Keep kissin' me, and you'll be a kept woman."

Your expression softens from panic to sweetness again, and you give him a gentle kiss. "I'm gonna earn my place," you say against his mouth.

"'M sure you will. Get your butt upstairs to my bed, please."

You pull back and gape at him. "Hang on-you have one horse fit to show, and the rest are retired!"

"Two, actually, but someone didn't wanna go out to the barn tonight, so-"

"Oh my god! Is it new? What breed is it? Let's go-"

Bucky grasps your shoulder. "She is a dapple gray."

"She?" The hearts in your eyes are almost enough to make him give in.

"That's all you get, ma'am! Don't make me carry you up those stairs like a sack of potatoes."

Your gaze darkens. "Are you coming with me?"

Bucky smirks. "If that's alright."

You gulp, and then bolt.

You take the stairs in pairs, and Bucky's hot on your heels. He steps up behind you when you pause in the threshold of his bedroom; you're waiting. For permission, or some such thing, so he kisses the skin below your ear. Like he's found some kind of release button, you sag against him. One glance up at him under heavy eyelids, and Bucky's making silent vows to you he hopes you'll understand... because he's lost all power of speech, from the intensity of wanting you.

I'll stay up all night, if you want me too.

If you say no, that'll be okay.

Please don't say no.

You pull him by the front of his shirt; you don’t have to glance behind you to know how many steps it takes to get to the bed, or where to reach to pull down the quilt. You do so quickly, and then you make haste for his buttons. His hands raise to help with yours, but you bat his hand away. “I gotta do this right,” you whisper. When the buttons are fully released, you take a moment just to let your fingers trail over the skin you’ve exposed; he knows you don’t mind scars with the way your lips follow behind them, but he doesn’t expect you to revel in the soft thatch of hair over his sternum with equal reverence. 

“You’ve seen my chest before,” he chuckles when you bite your lip, but you graze a nail over his nipple to test if he’s sensitive and he sucks air sharply between his teeth.

“Couldn’t touch, before. Especially not when you’re hauling hay, I’d get in the way.”

“Beg to differ, darlin’. You coulda walked right up to me and grabbed my cock. Had me weepin’ in the palm of your hand.” The way your eyes dilate makes Bucky growl. He pushes your hand southward, to prove how reactive he is to you. The pressure and warmth from your touch through the denim is torture. Your mouth drops open. “Did you want me, then? Would you have let me touch you?”

It takes a second for the question to register in the fog, but you nod. “Where, baby?”

“Shh–I’m in charge, here,” you breathe, not believing a word you’re saying. He smirks. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. You tell me what you want, then.”

“To apologize for leaving you. Properly. Make you feel good.” You depress the zipper on his jeans, and Bucky makes quick work of the heavy belt buckle to make it easier. You take it out of his hand, but you’re almost bashful–torn between doing whatever you’ve been dreaming of doing to him, and navigating this very new dynamic with the real thing. He closes his fist around your wrist and pulls it away from his body until you take over, yanking the belt free of the final few loops. 

“Hey–why are you so nervous?” He asks when he realizes you’re shaking.

“I’m okay,” you peep, reaching for him again, but Bucky stays your hands. He kisses your temple. 

“You don’t have to do a thing. I won’t be disappointed.”

“I want to. Just can’t believe I get to. I–I used to lay right there–” you point at the bed behind you– “thinking about your hands.”

Bucky closes his eyes as a rush passes over every nerve in his body. “I’ve been sleeping in the same place you touched yourself. Fuck. How about you let me touch you, huh? I’ll forgive you for leaving. You don’t have to do a thing.”

You release your lip from between your teeth, wet and plump, and smile in amazement, and Bucky is done for. He rests his forehead against yours. “What did you think about?”

“Mm. Standing at the sink, looking out the window when you’re coming in from tying bales, and um…”

“Say it.”

“You’d come up behind me,” you admit quietly. “Slip your hand into my jeans–”

“My jeans, you little thief,” he grins, nipping your earlobe. You moan. Bucky turns you in his grip, so your ass is pressed against his dick. He slips his hand under your stolen flannel, dipping his fingertips between your skin and the waistband of the jeans in question. “Like this?” he asks.

“Lower.”

“Mmm be specific?” Your annoyed whine eggs him on. “Come on. So bossy all the time and you can’t tell me about one little fantasy?”

“You like it,” you breathe, canting your hips to grind back against him. “You’d touch me. Over my panties, because you’re a cowboy, not a caveman.” The last addition has him shaking with laughter, even as he does what you say, slipping his hands over the silk of your soft stomach to the transition between silk and lace. You’re so warm, and the gusset covering the place his fingers want to be is soaked through. “But–then… uh, shit.” He finds your clit and your knees shake. “You ask me what I’ve been doing all day–”

“Whatcha been doin’ all day, sweetheart?” Bucky murmurs in your ear. “Waiting here all wet for me?”

“Ruined a lot of panties over you,” you gasp as his fingers tug the lace barrier to the side. “Definitely would’ve fucked you sooner.”

Bucky would’ve fucked you day one, but he’d never take advantage of a woman in duress. This is something he heretofore thought as good as a dream, not something he could actually have for his very own. He teases a finger between your folds. The fact that you seem to have a kink about this cowboy thing is as adorable as it is fucking hot.

“That what you want? Me to get all worked up hucking hay, and get out all that energy with my fingers in your pussy? Don’t think I could use you like that, doll.” Even still, he works a thick finger inside your heat and he can’t help but buck against you at the feeling of your inner muscles adjusting to him. 

“No, I want you to spend all that time you’re doing chores thinking about me, missing me, that you can’t take it anymore.” Your head falls back against his shoulder, forcing your chest to jut out and tempt his other hand to release your buttons. “You just want me so bad, you gotta have me. Even if all you can do is finger me when I’m up to my elbows in soap bubbles.”

Bucky turns his teeth into the curve of your neck. “God, babydoll. You want to be needed so badly I can’t do my work, as if I didn’t stalk around this farm with my dick so heavy I was hurting with wanting you. You got your wish. I have to touch you. All I think about is makin’ you feel good–and you tellin’ me about it makes it worse, I’m gonna bust in my boxers like a teenager.”

“Buck–oh god.” He eases a second finger beside the first, and your eyes roll back. “Really thought our first time would be nice and slow but I need you now–”

He throbs. “You feel incredible. I could take my time all night.”

“No. Push my jeans down and fuck me.”

Bucky could swear he’s died and gone to Heaven. Finally having his hands on the woman he loves–his heart stutters over that wave of realization in the midst of tearing your jeans down your hips, releasing his dick and pumping himself desperately to be prepared without coming the instant he’s inside you–he’s lost in the moment. He thinks just for a flash about the first dirty dream he had about you, sharing a bath in a room full of candles, and then you’re grasping for him, pushing your face against the sheets he’s been sleeping between since you left, and he thinks–no, this is perfect. Needy, desperate… and leaving no room to wonder whether this is what you want, too. 

He sinks into you slower than either of you want, if the groan you make is any indication. Bucky takes a second to help you out of the shirt you borrowed, and then he digs his thumbs into the base of your spine, where you’re always complaining aches after a long day. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan when the muscle releases under his firm touch. Then, he moves. 

He’s robbed of your expressions with every thrust, but not your gorgeous sounds. You’re made for him. Nothing has ever felt this good–he can’t remember another woman’s body. It’s you, forever. Your body, your pussy–just you. He rolls his hips to find the spot that makes your gasps turn feral. The points of your nails find his arm where he braces over you. You draw blood. Just makes him thrust harder. 

“My sweet girl,” he moans. “You can’t even form a sentence, can you? All that sass fucked right outta you–jesus christ.” Your inner muscles squeeze him so tight, and you glance back at him over your shoulder, raising your hips enough that he has to work for the harsh thrust he’s been successful with thus far, and fuck… you may get wetter when he talks to you like you’re at his every whim, but you have all the cards. He’d let you do anything to him. He’s yours. He’s never felt anything this good–

“Baby,” you sigh, fluttering around him, “gonna come, you need to pull out–”

“‘M sterile. Serum side-effects.” Bucky grinds into your ass harder, holding his hips flush against your pillowed skin so hard he’ll surely make finger-shaped bruises in your thighs. You push up, arching your back until you’re seated on him. Bucky holds you close, arm bracketing beneath your breasts. He's fully clothed, you're entirely nude... it's the hottest thing he ever could imagine. He waits, on bated breath, for you to ask for what you want. You turn your head so you can kiss him softly. 

“Hey,” you whisper. “Never knew it could be like this.”

Bucky smiles against the corner of your mouth. “What, like fireworks?” He snaps his hips.

“Oh! Baby,” you croon. “Please let me come.”

“Sure you’re sorry?” he asks, even as he reaches between your spread knees to tweak your swollen clit. You shudder.

“‘M so sorry! Thought I didn’t have a choice. I know better.”

“You choose me?” Bucky holds your hips down so he can fuck any coherent thought out of you. You keen, but you nod.

“You, you,” you gasp. “Want you to come, too–”

“I’m gonna come, don’t you worry… shit.” Bucky tries to hold on through your orgasm, but your muscles squeeze him so tight that everything goes white for a minute, and he’s seeing stars. His own muscles go slack through his release. He has to brace his vibranium arm over you to keep from collapsing against you, using the other to hold you up around the waist. The other option would be sliding into a boneless heap on the ground. That feels quite unromantic, given the circumstances. So. He rolls with you in hand, peppering your shoulder with soft kisses. Even as he softens inside you, Bucky feels his body thrum with a newfound awareness of yours.

The clock glares at him in blue electrified letters. He groans. “Have to be up in two hours, fuck.”

“Regretting this, cowpoke?”

“That is not as sexy of a nickname as you think it is,” he laughs into your neck. “God, I was tired before, and now I know what your skin feels like and I think I might not need to sleep for a week.”

“You gonna let me clean up?” You ask, brushing his hair off his forehead. 

“Mmm. I could. But then I’d have to pull out.”

“Poor baby.”

Bucky nips your shoulder. “Try to fit in the tiny shower with me?”

“You’re obsessed with me,” you say, kissing the end of his nose as he eases himself from you with a grunt. He gives you a very grumpy glare, but pats your ass. 

“Come on. I expect you to wake up with the dawn, too.” He ignores your clothing on the ground, but shucks his shirt for you to put on in case you're cold for the walk across the hall. Bucky pauses at the door when you sigh. 

You prop your head up on one arm and smile. “Can I be a little sappy?”

His heart clenches. “I prefer it.”

“I’ve never felt this way before, Bucky. About anybody.”

Bucky straightens with pride. He looks you over, looking fucked and blissful on his bed, and smiles with the same amount of softness he feels inside. “You’re home, babydoll.”

You can’t speak for happy tears. He winks at you.

Under the spray of hot water, with miles of skin to explore, Bucky holds you close. The whole farmhouse could burn down, but as long as he’s with you, he’ll have a place for you to take shelter in his heart. Nothing as secure as that.

--

Thanks for reading! :)

Kate’s masterlist - Marvel Masterlist

bucky tag list: @peterhollandkait @honeywithemoney @nahthanks @dracris33

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes

[petrichormeraki]

Misc Hermit Tommy Things

(aka stuff that's been in my head that I've written down over the past while, but isn't big enough to draw/write; it's just like the beginning of the AU again!)

Tommy doesn't use elytra, but if he did he would have moth wings (specifically the brown-lined looper moth)

Tommy spent his first hard earned netherite ingot on an axe. He spent his second on a shovel, and then immediately used that shovel to make a trap to kill Grian (it didn't work)

Tommy only retained the knowledge of how to make traps from all the redstone lessons Mumbo was trying to give him, Mumbo can't say he's entirely disappointed by that since they both really only go after Grian anyways

Tommy carries two Impulse Totems™ on his person at all times. He likes to dual weild them when he's nervous

Tommy's starter base is a recreation of the Camarvan, complete with the secret bunker

Despite discovering a fondness of parrots, Tommy hasn't yet tamed any pet on Hermitcraft because of fear of it being killed. (He will eventually, but not yet.)

Tommy doesn't eat golden carrots, only regular ones

Scar got his interest in water bucket clutches from Tommy in this AU

Tommy thinks Etho and Doc are the coolest looking hermits

Tommy teamed up with Beefy Tunes after getting comfortable on the server, and abused that partnership to get as many disks as he wanted (Beef didn't mind)

Tommy teamed up with Octagon in season 8 (One Free Tommy Advice with every purchase!)

He also built a church around the Boatem Hole/Pole when season 8 first started (complete with a lever that will open the floor to the void)

Season 8 started out good and then took a turn for the worst for Tommy. He disappeared entirely after the news that the moon was indeed getting bigger because it was set to crash into the world, and the rest of the server put everything on hold to find him. They never did. (He built a bunker at bedrock out of obsidian, and stayed there until the moon crashed. He thought it would protect him, and to its credit, it did. He emerged after the crash to a world destroyed with everyone gone.)

Tommy has not yet died on the Hermitcraft server.

#hermit tommy au #meraki post #hc x dsmp #just for exposure lmao

[practickles]

AkiToya Tickle HCs

A list of things I wrote and put into a gc a while back with a few new additions at the end. I mainly just want to put them somewhere that I can come back to lmao. I really like a lot of these and I may or may not have plans to do more with them.

Both of them are absolute SUCKERS for any kind of ticklish kiss but Akito will literally die if Toya kisses anywhere near his stomach, like full on screaming and thrashing. For Toya, they mostly just get him giggly but he still loves it.

Three words: Toya comfort tickles. I think depending on what upset him and how bad, he would mostly enjoy gentle tickles with kind words but if he just wanted to forget entirely, he'd ask Akito to absolutely destroy him

They could be learning choreo or something and Akito is trying to help Toya adjust his form/pose but he's not getting it even after being shown so Akito just grabs his sides and moves him himself but Toya starts laughing because tickles and Akito teases him to absolute bits for it "Dude, I wasn't even trying there, are you just that ticklish?"

After long, frustrating days I think they'd both enjoy rough tickle fights. It helps with both getting frustration out and letting loose and relaxing.

Akito CAN NOT admit to enjoying being tickled. Man would actually rather eat a carrot and then go pet a dog. Toya thinks this is the funniest thing ever and abuses the hell out of it. "Awww, do you like this? I think you do. You're all smile-y and you seem to be TRYING to keep yourself still for me"

Toya is utterly incapable of being a mean ler purely because he gets all giggly while tickling others (it makes him really happy) and he's soft for Akito and can't say no to him for long. His tickles are super sweet and loving.

On the flip side, Akito is the complete opposite. He LOVES getting to see Toya all blushy and nervous from teasing and wants to make him laugh as hard as he can because he adores Toya's laughter. He's the type to, with no build up, go straight to worst spots with a smirk and a tease.

This is not to say, however, that he can NEVER be soft. He finds that he likes Toya's giggles as much as his actual laughter. And he knows it makes him really happy too.

Toya coming home from the arcade with a super soft plushie and feeling playful, greeting his partner by rubbing it against his neck.

Akito absolutely loses it. Toya has the element of surprise on his side and Akito is so incredibly ticklish. There is no way this man survives this.

They switch between lee and ler depending on the mood, but are actually really well matched in tickle fights. While Akito is more ticklish, Toya enjoys it more so it always ends one of two ways. 1. Toya giving up and letting himself be tickled (Akito thinks this is the cutest thing in the world) or 2. Akito forfeiting and admitting defeat because he's all tickled out.

Akito thinks it's hilarious to walk up behind Toya, grab his sides, and then walk off. This either puts Toya in a lee mood so he has to go shyly ask for more, or a more mischievous mood where he will do the same to Akito's tummy, who will do it back, who will do it back until someone gives up and tickles the other to absolute bits.

Akito screams and thrashes when tickled, doesn't mean he likes it any less, it's just how he naturally reacts. Toya felt awful the first time he tried to tickle Akito because he thought he did something wrong and upset him. Akito had to clear that up and was SUPER embarrassed doing it. Toya still makes fun of him for it to this day.

Toya can't always tell when he's being teased, or maybe just doesn't think critically before answering, and Akito is a little mean and uses that to his advantage, resulting in conversation such as:

"Does this tickle, Toya?"

"Yes."

"Aww, I don't think theres a more ticklish spot in the whole world"

"There's actually this one on my sides see-"

In summary: I love them, your honor. This post is entirely Sakura's fault /pos

#project sekai tickles #project sekai #toya aoyagi #akito shinonome #akitoya #tickling #sfw tickling community #tickle hcs #pjsk tickle hcs #ler!toya #lee!toya #ler!akito #lee!akito

[ariel-seagull-wings]

FICTIONAL CHARACTER ASK: GROVER

Asked by @princesssarisa

@themousefromfantasyland @the-blue-fairie @thealmightyemprex @amalthea9 @softlytowardthesun

Favorite Thing About Them: He is the character of Sesame Street who is the most like me: Bumbling, imaginative, naive and well meaning, who while trying to help people can sometimes make things worst with lots of mistakes.

Least Favorite Thing About Them: Nothing really, i think he is a great character and a good monster.

Three Things I Have In Common With Them:

*I am socially naive and bumbling;

*I am imaginative;

*I work with atending other people;

Three Things I Don't Have In Common With Them:

*He still keeps calm while other people get angry at him, whereas I suffer anxiety crisis when I know I angered someone;

*I didn't tryed surfing;

*I don't ride horses like he does in his Marshall Grover sketches;

Favorite Line:

From the Monsterpiece Theater sketch parodying Much Ado About Nothing

"Would you carest to hearest the special of the dayest?"

"Its sweet in the telling, sweeter more in the eating: roast suckling pig stuffed with an apple in its mouth surrounded by six baby carrots and eight new potatoes"

"O Sir, You Have to Order Something Else! We are out of carrots! We have zero carrots!"

"O again and O Sir, unhapilly i cannot bring the roast pig! We are out of potatoes! We have zero potatoes!"

"O double and triple O, now we are out of apples! We have zero apples!"

"O Sir, we do not have a cook! I searched the kitchen and found zero cooks!"

brOTP: Kermit the Frog, Big Bird and Cookie Monster.

OTP: Nobody. He doesn't seem interested in romance.

nOTP: Mr Johnson

Random Headcanon: He is on the Autism Spectrum, that is why he takes a slower time to do things like explaining what is or isn't on a restaurant menu and has dificulty to understand why other people get angry at him when he is only trying to help.

Unpopular Opinion: I feel that he is an underrated character compared with the big popularity of Big Bird, Oscar, Elmo, Abby Cadaby, Bert and Ernie and Count von Count.

Song I Associate With Them:

The Feeling Song

Favorite Picture of Them:

#tumblr mutuals #princesssarisa #fandom musings #ask game #fictional character ask #character ask meme #sesame street #grover #Youtube

[cutiedwaekki]

PUPPY pt.1

You chose: rescue the poor puppy

It was obvious that Jisung was not going to let this adorable little puppy die! But he already seemed to like it because he didn't refuse when he took him in his arms and started barking happily during the whole trip back as if he was talking to him and telling him things which made Jisung giggle and feel his day was better thanks to this puppy.

But once home it was quite different...

- "No, come back here! No! Not my computer!" Jisung shouted as he ran after the puppy throughout the room who had run away after the mention of the word "bath".

"You little ... I haven't done enough cardio work to chase a dog" he complained as he had to stop and catch his breath, after all the running around his apartment for several minutes non-stop exhausted the chubby student and the puppy noticed this as he teased him by coming to sit in front of him with an innocent look on his faceIt was almost as if he was acting like a mischievous human!

Couldn't he have a little recognition for having saved him? Anyway, he had to be calmed down!

- "Puppy come here!" Jisung shouted from the kitchen and he came immediately, keeping that innocent look that made the black haired coo. "It's good that you're a good puppy" he said with a high-pitched voice, petting him affectionately "Okay, you don't want a bath, but do you at least want to eat? This time the puppy's eyes lit up, making him both giggle and cringe to think that even a simple thing like that he hadn't gotten! If he found the ones who had done this he would definitely kill them! At least that's what he says!

The only problem was that there was no dog food in his pantry so he looked with his phone what human food could he give to a dog and after looking at several recipes he decided to cook something in common with him.

So he cooked some chicken breast with carrots and some brown rice, fortunately Minho Hyung was shopping for him from time to time or he wouldn't even have enough to feed his puppy who was salivating when he smelled all the good smells.

And then after a few minutes it was ready, Jisung put his plate on the table and that of the dog which had made an eye in pâté on the ground. It was not necessary to wait one more minute so that the dog devours completely his plate while Jisung hesitated to eat or not the carrots. But it wasn't a big deal because the dog ended up eating his plate too. It was of course too much for him but he needed to put on some weight to get better.

- "Oh look at this good puppy who ate! How sweet he is!" Jisung congratulated him, scratching his belly as he saw that it seemed to make the animal feel better, as he sometimes reacted almost as human as the black haired one. With that thought he went to the kitchen and went to bed, exhausted from the day. The puppy climbed into bed and settled down beside him to rest. The only problem was that even though they had eaten, the dog was still dirty and smelled like garbage, but Jisung was too tired to try to wash him.

He was going to do it tomorrow anyway.

___________

-Wow Jisung, you've lost weight! What's up with you?" Felix asked one of his friends at the university.

- "Oh nothing I don't know I have food at home that disappears and I'm lazy to go out and buy kibble for Daengmo so we eat similar things" explained the black-haired man although he knew that wasn't all.

But let me explain. It's been almost 4 months since Jisung rescued this puppy, by the way he finally washed him the next day and now the puppy was a big fan of showering if his owner gave him a treat afterwards! In the meantime the quokka had given him a name and had left for Daengmo. And as the little golden retriver seemed to like this nickname, it became his name

So as Jisung said, turn those snacks and sweets autee that sometimes gave Daengmo disappeared! Sometimes it was this ramen, sometimes even a whole bottle of soda! The worst was that while he lost his extra pounds while his puppy became chubby! Well even if for his health it was not the best he told himself that it was not worse than how he had found it the first day.

And let's not even talk about how spoiled Daengmo was and how he acted! As he was heavier, his legs hurt from walking so Jisung had to carry him from the bedroom to the living room and so on...

So far everything seems normal although a bit weird right? And now let's see another point of view this time, that of Seungmin.

Who is Seungmin? I mean I just told you about him! Yes it was Daengmo but let me explain. Seunglin is what we call a hybrid, he has the ability to take a human or animal form as he pleases although he still has the ears and tail of a puppy in his human form.

Since he was a child, he went from house to house looking for someone who would accept him as he was and not call him a monster.

The problem was that during the 20 years of his human life he had never met anyone who had the same expectations. That is, until Jisung.

He had trusted him quickly enough and after 4 months he was still living with him without the black haired man knowing that first of all he was not a dog but a hybrid and secondly that the one who was taking his food was Seungmin during the day.

He was not a real dog so he did not eat the kibble and fortunately Jisung was able to cook him healthy things himself. But since no one knows he was going to be a greedy hybrid who ate treats when Jisung wasn't around , as a result, Seungmin went from skinny to chubby!

He didn't care if he ate when he was worried and he never had to eat too much. He was sure that Jisung would find it cute, at least he hoped.

But he would soon find out.

It was just a matter of waiting for a day when Jisung finished early for a grape of some sort and a day when Seungmin showed the extent of his gluttony by emptying half of the food on his own.

The two together made Jisung go home and call his dog except that instead of seeing his chubby Daengmo, he saw a fat and fluffy guy on his sofa sinking into a food coma so he wouldn't be afraid of his coming.

"Sungie ~ i missed you ~" said the stranger who ... wears very realistic dog ears that moved when he spoke?! Wait ishe also wearing one of his sweater ?!

- "W-Who are you?!" Jisung shouted while taking a broom to defend himself, which didn't surprise Seungmin, who hadn't yet realized that he was in his human form.

"Remember ? You call me Daengmo silly" replied the stranger with a sly smile, except that Jisung was not laughing at the fact that a stranger was coming to his house to eat his food, which had made him lose his chubby figure!

"Liar! Daengmo is my dog you are juste a stranger !" The black haired man shouted again making Seungmin finally realize that he was in human form especially with the large clothes of his owner who also noticed and shouted at him as the brunette started to get scared and tried to stand up but his belly was too heavy for him to be able to stand up right now

"I-I can explain!" Seungmin said as he put his hands in front of him to try to calm Jisung down.

So what will happen? Will Jisung stay calm and let him explain? Should he believe him? This time I want your own choices for the next part :D

#my fic #weight gain

[solaneceae]

what doesn't kill you makes you stronger (but it might leave emotional damage)

Chapter 9: eighteen

read on Ao3

tw: derealization, self-harm, mention of suicide

-----------

Jackie’s resolve lasts a while. He can’t give a clear answer as to how long exactly, because nothing down here lets him keep track of time: no clocks, no windows to see the sky… and nobody ever answers him the few times he asks. He tries to figure it out based on the rotation of scientists coming in to give him water and food, but it’s not that consistent. And do they come three times a day, twice? Only once? He has no idea.

The first few ‘days’ are the hardest on him, because that’s when he resists the most. Every second he can.

He antagonizes whoever happens to be in hearing range. He makes a ruckus, kicks and screams when they drag him out of his cell for another ‘session’ — that’s what they call it, when they pump him full of that liquid that burns and sears at every fiber of his body, leaving him sore and despondent for hours after it ends.

He tries to escape, twice. Doesn’t make it a few steps down the corridor before he’s sent thrashing on the floor, the electric bracelets shocking him relentlessly.

He demands to know what they’re doing to him, and why. He even, on one humiliating occasion, tries to appeal to their humanity. “Please,” he stares at one of the women strapping him down to the table with practiced ease. “I just want to know why. That’s all I want. At least tell me why you’re doing this.”

“Quiet, Eighteen.”

Nothing comes of it. Everyone here has either turned off their empathy completely, or they’re robots. But either way, this wouldn’t work.

He then tries refusing to feed himself, dumping the bland portions into the toilet instead. But it only ends with him being strapped to a chair and forcefully tube-fed, so he’s not trying that again.

Days and nights start to blur together. He misses the sun.

***

Time passes and nothing changes. Just this white room with the single bed and the ghost of his past. Walk in circles, eat, try to remember a book or a movie to stave off the boredom. Sleep, if he can. Get strapped to a table, pain. Wake up in his cell. Rinse and repeat.

He barely feels like a human being anymore. The scientists all look at him like he’s a mildly interesting critter, one to be taken apart to see how it ticks.

Over time, his will erodes. His energy wanes. His kicks grow weaker, his protests lose their bite. Jackie tires, faster than he expects.

***

The very first time he can’t muster the energy to talk or fight back during a session, it’s because he hasn’t slept in who knows how many days; the leftover aches from the injections keep him up, and his favorite songs and stories keep replaying in his mind over and over again, without rest. He wonders if the isolation and lack of new stimuli are making him go insane.

His body is on the verge of shutting down, and so is his sleep-deprived brain, and he just doesn’t want to bother today. His captors take it as a sign that he’s decided to ‘be good’, and so, Jackie gets his first taste of the sedative. He feels it enter his bloodstream, thick and pleasantly warm. It actually wakes him up a little, startled by the unfamiliar sensation. He feels a tingle along his arm, one that spreads quickly. “Count with me, Eighteen. Look at me. Three, two…”

 One…

O n  e…

And, bliss. Relief, so complete and instantaneous that he can’t suppress a sob. When the real injection begins, he doesn’t feel a thing — he’s gone, far, far away from his tortured body, where it’s warm and quiet and soft and he doesn’t have to feel all the bad things.

 ***

Glad to see you becoming reasonable, Eighteen.

  ***

Jackie knows it’s a basic carrot and stick trick: if he’s good, he gets the high. If he’s bad, he gets the pain. And the worst thing is, it works.

After that first time, it’s like his resolve has been broken. He stops talking back — stops fighting back. When too much time passes between two sessions, he gets jittery and anxious, and his body aches everywhere. He gets this feeling of want, of need for… something. It drives him up the wall, so much so that when he hears the sound of his door unlocking, he catches himself feeling a rush of excitement. He’s eager.

It takes him a while to understand that it’s withdrawal. He's become addicted to that sedative, to the high and the relief and the peace it grants him, for just a moment.

He’s disgusted with himself.

 ***

Come here. Sit. Good.

***

Everything is grey. Time is broken. He can’t remember what his old place looked like.

He thinks of his favorite comic. It’s probably gone now, along with all his stuff. Thrown out when the rent money stopped coming. He wishes it was here, with him.

***

Come here. Sit. Give me your arm.

Very good, Eighteen. See, isn’t it so much easier when you don’t struggle?

***

No-one will come for him. He knows that. He's a drifter, with no close friends or family. and even if someone were to report him missing, IRIS had made sure to never give him anything to take home — contracts, company pens, nothing. Even his pay had been in cash only. Nothing the cops could ever find would link him to this place.

No. He’s trapped here. He’s trapped, and his mind is slowly unraveling, trapped in a cycle of drugged-up sleep, pain hidden beneath honey-tar bliss, and the crash when he hates himself for enjoying it.

***

  “Greed has poisoned men’s souls, has barricaded the world with hate, has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut ourselves in. Machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical. Our cleverness, hard and unkind. We think too much and feel too little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost…”

***

He has a dream. He doesn’t get many of those, not when his waking moments are a living nightmare.

It’s a nice one, simple. He’s walking on a country road, the sun warming his back as the wheat fields stretching up to the horizon sway gently in the wind. He misses the sun.

  He cries when he wakes up. He cries out for his mom, the one that didn’t want him.

***

“Hold your ground. Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers. I see in your eyes the same fear. That would take the heart of me. A day may come when. The courage of men fails. When we for-forsake our friends… break all bonds of, f-fellowship. It is not this day. An hour of wolves and… shields… when the age of men comes crash, crashing down. But it is not today. Today… we fight. By all you love on this good Earth…”

***

One time, he comes to awareness with his teeth plunged deep into his wrist, and the sharp pain clears his mind a little. It’s red, it’s color in a sea of grey and white. It flows and moves, it’s alive, he’s alive.

It doesn’t last though, because people soon rush in to subdue him. After that, his arms are securely bound to his sides with a special jacket, and they only take it off so he can eat. It’s not like he did that on purpose, he thinks, he doesn’t know what happened. He hears them talk about him ‘attempting on his own life’, but that’s not true. He doesn’t want to die. Does he?

***

“Who’m I, someone that’s afraid to let go. Under all laws of aviation, I won’t fix I’d rather weep. You’re a sunflower, did you know, I bet he works for the government. Nobody wants you here. You know nothing. Somebody once told me the loveliest lies of all. Where did you come from? Where did you go? Nobody wants you here. Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten. Forgotten. Nobody wants you here. When you’ll be dead I will be, still alive. Nobody wants you here. Nobody wants you here.”

***

He forgot his name today. Only briefly. But he couldn’t shake that feeling of abject horror when he kept coming up blank.

It’s honey-tar bliss and cotton candy dreams. “Names are lies, lies we tell ourselves to feel like we matter maybe.” It’s honey and tar, honey and tar, sticky, sickly sweet but bitter also. “I don’t like bitter. Never liked bitter.” Bitter coffee, honey and tar.

***

"Status report?" "The thirty recommended sessions have been completed. No damaging side effects, other than what’s expected for that high a dosage." "Good, very good. Warn the staff, we’re moving on to direct exposure. Tomorrow." "Sir? Are you certain? The subject’s mental state is—" "Page wants results. She’s getting impatient." "I’m aware, but the strain of that thing on a human brain is just…" "He’ll either make it or he won’t, and she’ll have her answer. Get it done."

"…Yes, sir."

#jacksepticeye #antisepticeye #jackieboy man #jbm #jse #fanfic #wdkymys #writersofjack #jse egos