#for someone today when they specifically asked me to make sure their egg was cooked SPECIFICALLY like that. like just fucking cook it over

[crpingdeath]

i wanna quit my job so bad holy shit

#serving rich people fucking tea parties all day while i die inside is what’s gonna make me finally kill. #being treated like i’m a moron for ringing customers up for exactly what they ask for instead of automatically knowing line cook protocol - #having never been a fucking line cook is gonna also make me kill. #what’s so fucking difficult about someone ordering their eggs slightly over medium. i got treated like a fucking idiot for ringing that up #for someone today when they specifically asked me to make sure their egg was cooked SPECIFICALLY like that. like just fucking cook it over #medium and then make sure the yolk is slightly more firm but not to the point of being over hard jesus fucking christ???? #i hate working in food service and being treated like i’m stupid when all we’re doing is making fucking food. it’s not that important.

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Blood-Stained Relationship

Prologue i

Slight Yandere! Blade x Fem! Reader

Disclaimer 1: No incest will be in this story. It may seem that there is, but no, there isn’t. Everything will be explained as the story goes on, but again, there will be no incestual acts in this piece of fiction. The brother is NOT attracted to the reader in a romantic or sexual way.

As a matter of fact, the brother is bitchless lmao –

Warnings: talk of a sister complex, toxic and borderline abusive familial relationship(s), implied toxic marriage, implied borderline abusive parenting, obsessive and overprotective behavior/thoughts, hints of depression scattered about, repressed emotions, one suicidal thought, murder, blood. Please tell me if I missed any warnings so I can add them accordingly.

Disclaimer 2: I do NOT condone any of the harmful behavior or thoughts that take place in this piece of fiction. None of these actions should be romanticized or considered normal, as it is extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors and Blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT

Note: I just kinda gave up in the end, I don’t even know what that last conversation was.

Wordcount: 3144k

===

Your brother loved to spoil you.

Cosmetics, designer brand clothing, the newest high tech, pretty nails that feel a little too heavy at times, and personal stylists that made sure you looked like you just stepped out of a fashion magazine cover. Not to mention the lavish furnishing in the spacious house you share with him. Almost anything and everything you could ever want right at your fingertips.

And you’re extremely grateful for everything he has done and more – after all, where would you be if it were not for his generosity?

A dingy little apartment on Burn Street, working as a barista, a two-room lease that you could barely afford rent for. The shady part of town where shop windows get boarded up every second month because someone decided to rob the place at midnight. Needing to use a sperate and out of the way laundry mat because you couldn’t trust the apartment’s commute one. Going by yourself without a watchful eye making sure that you’re safe.

Which is why when your brother asks for a favor, you return it. Smiling, laughing, wearing a dress he picked out for an event, or making friends from a specific group. He feeds you well, and you cook with the ingredients he provides. Unemployed, sure, but you think you became a good enough homemaker.

It was the least you could do, especially since he doesn’t make you pay rent or bills. He would insist that you just enjoy your time at home, or just going around town, with a watchful eye of course, you need to keep your safety in mind.

Even the pretty apron with lace ruffles adds to the aesthetic, the experience. If someone would give everything to you, then shouldn’t you do the same for them?

And that is the exact reason the kitchen smelt of exotic spices, with your hands kneading the yeast while keeping an eye on the meat simmering in the pan. The stove was one of the newest modes in the past decade but purchased two years ago – when your brother gave you, his hand. There were too many settings for the thing, but you knew enough to use it properly.

Am I using too much, or this fine?

You finish beating the yeast into submission – gently kneading until it is good enough. Egg yolk gets drabbled on, and you open the oven to put it in, the heat a little too close. Even with the oven mitten on, it reaches your skin.

The oven door closes with a ‘beep,’ as you set the timer. The clock on the wall reads 6:00PM. Your brother won’t be home until Ten. Whatever his job was must keep him busy. So busy, that he tells you to wait until around 7 seven o’clock if you plan on cooking, and eight pm for takeout. And like a good little sister, you listen to your dear elder brother. But you decided to start a bit earlier, today.

The meat is still shimmering by the time you check on it. Carrots were in the pan too, but you still cut bell peppers to cook them separately. And then, maybe you’ll scoop them open and fill them with melted cheese – or were you supposed to bake those? No, you don’t.

And then, after that, you’ll mop again, the smell of bleach filling your nostrils until you felt dizzy, and if the bread is still baking, then you’ll watch one of your shows until the oven makes a ‘ding!’ and then you’ll take it out and get the table ready.

You smile at the thought, washing your hands with cherry-scented hand soap, the water cold. It brings comfort. And smells sweet, the smell gently urging you to bring your hands to your face and take a sniff. You resist the urge.

“Mm, I should get started on mopping,” you take a right into one of the corners in the kitchen, the mini ‘storage’ door opening with the twist of a knob and a pull. Grabbing the mop and bucket set – that costed more than it should – you fill the bucket with bleach –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

You fill up the bucket, the liquid swishing within. You add some water, dip the mop in, and then place the head of it in. Then, with one hand, you grab the bucket handle, and the mop handle in the other, making way to the living room. The floor was made of tile, cold to the touch as you step out of your house slippers, bare feet touching the white material.

It’s colder than expected.

With a small sigh, you start to mop –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“House, turn on the TV to channel sixty-five.”

The Tv turns on, the channel immediately showing after a few seconds. The news is on. You don’t pay much attention to the current events, but here and there you’ll listen in about one thing or another.

“Mm, I should do laundry tomorrow. And then I’ll ask Mei to accompany me to the store tomorrow; I need to get groceries. Oh, maybe I’ll look online later today for a new dress –

Ring! Ring! Ring!

“…”

A defeated sigh and you drag yourself to the kitchen to retrieve your phone, rather upset, which was uncharacteristic of you. You’d like to put your phone on ‘Do not disturb.’ But the model you use doesn’t have that setting, surprisingly. You should ask your brother for a new one. You told him that you didn’t trust that phone company or that seller.

But he had trusted them more than you. Close friends, perhaps?

“Who is it, who is it…,” it vibrates against the marble counter, the shrill noise making your ears bleed. You should ask Mei if it’s possible to put it on silent. It won’t let you do that either, but your brother knows how to bypass it. He’s smart, like that.

And you think you like that about him. Just how he likes the way you are. Because he loves you, his dear little sister, and because you’re a good little sister, you behave. Like you should, and how you were told – suggested – by Mei when you were first welcomed into your elder brother’s home with open arms.

Because he loves you.

Dearest Brother flashes across the screen, and you wait a few seconds before answering his third call. He doesn’t like how he deals with his employees and co-workers. He’s always gentle when it comes to you.

“Hello?” You put him on the speaker, placing your phone back on the counter. It was time to check the shimmering meat anyway. “Sorry for not answering sooner, I didn’t check the caller ID. I’ll make sure to give you a customized ringtone later.” You chirp while opening the lid of the pan. It was almost done; your hand takes the wooden spoon and stir the meat to make sure it wouldn’t burn.

“It’s fine,” comes his relaxed voice from the other side of the line. “I know you don’t check your phone often to begin with; you would rather watch TV or do chores around the house. We have a maid for a reason, you know,” he jests, a chuckle low in his throat. How classic.

“Hehe, I just like being busy. It’s hard to get out of that mindset.”

“Even after two years.”

“Mm.”

When he laughs, it sets off bells in your head. Loud and shrill. “I just wanted to check up on you. You didn’t answer my text an hour ago, so I got worried.”

He could have checked the cameras. The house is littered with them, but to his credit, he is removing most of them. Little by little. However, he’s considerate enough to leave them out of the more… private rooms.

That was a line that should never be crossed.

But, of course, you still gave Mei permission to report to – to tell him what you do with your day. To look around in your room, and it was okay. Because it was Mei. And Mei cares about your safety, even if she reminded you of your roommate in terms of emotional distance.

It was fine, it needed to be. Because you were still an intruder who was as lost as a lamb. Even with guidance, you still had a hard time adjusting. And thankfully, both were so patient it made your heart swell.

You just wished it didn’t hurt as much as it did. Hearts weren’t supposed to do that with good news. With good and sweet actions.

“I’m just happy that you’re safe. You know how much I care about you.” There’s shuffling in the background and whimpers. You can imagine that he’s with a woman, a lover perhaps. Because why else would you hear those types of sounds? It is odd, however, how… masculine they sound. And how far they are, with a crunching sound.

You can hear something break in the background. Sharp yet dulled – it wasn’t glass or porcelain. Your smile is shaky as you imagine what type of stuff he might be into. It’s only natural to be curious, but you push the thoughts away anyway.

“I know.”

And truly, you do. Why else would he take great care to keep track of your location. The people you meet, the men he chooses – it’s all for your sake. And you make yourself believe as much.

The air smells weird. Burnt and heavy. Also, is it just you or is there light smoke coming from somewhere?

“…When are you going to be home for dinner? There’s bread in the oven. And the meat is almost done.”

You look at the clock on the wall. The time reads 6:54PM. Quickly, you take off the lid of the meat. It’s burnt. Well, at least that explains the smell.

“Did I forget to tell you?” Your brother’s voice is light and airy, already knowing that you did remember what he told you. But he plays along anyway. Because that’s what good brothers do.

And he is a good brother. Who loves you so much… that sometimes, it feels a little suffocating.

How ironic. He’s the one who provides the air you breathe, and yet, he takes it away all the same. But it’s okay. Because he’s your brother, and you love him too. Just not as much. And he’s okay with that.

“I probably forgot. You know how I am, brother.” Now that you think about it, when was the last time you called his name, instead of ‘brother’?

“Haha, you’re right. I said around ten, but…” More noise in the background. This time there’s a gushing sound. Coughing. Wheezing. He’s into some weird stuff, isn’t he?

You hear a woman’s giggle in the background. But it doesn’t sound playful or innocent.

Your manicured nails rapidly tap against the counter. A little too loud it could probably be heard on the phone. He doesn’t comment on it regardless.

“Later than ten? Oh my, you sure do sound busy today. Be careful, alright?” Your concern is genuine, but these days, it’s starting to come from a different place. You wonder if this is what your parents went through when they were younger.

If that’s why your mother would call you so often the moment you hit fifteen. Worried about your safety, paranoia creeping up her neck like a snake. If you recall correctly, father did this with mother too. So, it’s natural for people to be worried.

It must be.

“I do, however, have a request of you.” His tone turns serious, and you already know what it is. It’s always the same thing every time. Sure, he loves buying you pretty dresses and nice nails, a personal stylist who listens to your every whim. Usually.

Because there’s another reason, he loves buying you expensive, yet simple jewelry, and clothes that complement your skin-tone and curves. It was usually Mei who chose the clothing, though. Because your brother still does care about your privacy, because he’s –

“Good brother, I was hoping you would set up another playdate. Same person, or is it a different one?”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice. You’re a good sister, so you play along with your brother’s schemes. Although, these days, it’s getting a bit… annoying. Every man is the same, and if they aren’t, then they’re shy and can barely meet your eyes. It’s cute.

You tap against the counter faster. Be a good sister because he’s a good brother. He loves you. And you should love him.

But love wasn’t always healthy.

Sometimes love hurts.

“It’s a different guy, but don’t worry – he doesn’t bite. I’ll never allow someone to even do as much as nip at you.” He sounds so confident you almost feel relieved. It’s common. Be a good sister, like how mother would always tell you.

Behave, dear daughter. They love you. We love you.

And you love us, don’t you?

“Of course; I know you’ll always protect me.” Your knees are starting to get weaker. Maybe you ate something bad because now you’re starting to feel sick. Bile is building up. “But if I may make a request…, can it be an hour or less?”

Even though you love your brother, you hate how long these dates can get. And you hate how boring they become after the first five minutes. But recently, they’re dull right off the bat.

“Thank you for everything, (name). I’ll make sure to make it up to you.”

Before you could reply, or he could say “I love you,” the line ends suddenly. You had heard more wheezing in the background before he hung up. Along with multiple apologies that came from a man.

 The meat got burnt so badly it turned black.

The bread has another hour or two to go. All is well.

Because if it wasn’t, then one of the knives in the knife holder would find home in your wrist. In your chest. In your neck.

Like a crumbled piece of paper, you fold into yourself as you fall to the floor. That was enough playing for today. Oh. He never even told you what time he would be home.

Distantly, you hear something break before you close your eyes. You’re tired.

You hope your sleep won’t be interrupted.

--

“I love my sister.”

“Mm, I can see that. Although… perhaps, you love her a little too much, to the point it’s off-putting. People may get the wrong idea, you know.”

Your brother turns around to look at the woman speaking – beautiful, with dreamy pale purple eyes that are jaded. Almost lifeless, yet full of mischief. Like a snake waiting to pounce, she watches him, her purple hair swaying with each step she takes towards him.

One hunter against another. In the end, who will go down?

She must step over the corpse laying on the floor, blood clinging to her heel. It’s nothing more than an inconvenience to her. As though she simply stepped in a water puddle.

“I don’t have a sister complex.”

“Your actions say otherwise. But” she stops right in front of him, gloved hand pulling down her sunglasses from the top of her head to the bridge of her nose. They gleam underneath the light, your brother’s reflection in them. He sees how thin of a line his lips are.

He’s not amused.

“It is because of your behavior that others stay away from her. That’s what you want, right?”

“No comment. But just know that I don’t have a sister complex. It’s closely associated with incest, and I don’t – “

“Alright, alright. We’ll just ignore that for now – “

“What do you mean ‘for now’?”

“– and get to business. So, you want to hire us, correct? For a baby-sitting job?” Her head tilts to the side, a lazy and smug grin pulling at her red lips. Despite her words, everything about her screams gentle. But the neon purple strings in her hand that are connected to the corpse say otherwise.

It’s – She – is as beautiful as she is dangerous.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘baby-sitting’ job, but yes. Besides, I don’t need to hire you to begin with.” Your brother shrugs his shoulders before crossing his arms. “I mean, I am one of your most valued resources.”

“Oh? Are you now?”

“Who do you think provides the funds? But, of course, if money is a thing that would make things easier, than… I wouldn’t mind paying a bit more.”

She smiles at that, releasing the string as it fades into thin air. “Mm, does the gender matter?”

“Yes. Unless, of course, you have a trusted gentleman.” He glances at the clock on the wall; 9:00PM. He wonders if dinner is ready by now, or if you burnt the food again. Maybe he should stop calling after five, else you get distracted. He needs to be a good brother and remember that you tend to get distracted easily.

“Is it 24/7? Or just during certain events?”

“For now, I’m not sure. But for sure, during her blind dates. There’s a lengthy list of them that I’ve been putting off. She’s just been so tired that I decided to give her a break, oh, but – “

“Please don’t go on a rampant. I know enough to judge the situation. But yes, I do know a trusted ‘gentleman’… I just need to clear his head occasionally. But for your sake, I think it’d be best if you introduce them soon.” She adjusts her glasses, fixing them on top of her head again.

“I can promise you he won’t show any interest.”

“But there’s a possibility he might harm her?”

Gently, her hands clap together. “There will always be a possibility that someone you hired might hurt her. That’s just something you can’t avoid. But if we avoid certain triggers, he’ll be as harmless as a fly… towards her.”

Humming in thought, your brother mulls over it. He did ask, so…

“But do not worry, for I will also be there, at times. But Elio has been sending me more scripts these past few months compared to him.”

“Him?”

“Bladie.”

He chokes on his spit. “You want me to entrust my dear sister to – “

“Trust me, he won’t lay a hand on her. Not if I tell him not to.”

“You mean force him to, you little she-devil…” he chuckles lowly, no true amusement in his voice or eyes. Again, he did ask, but still…

“What about Silver Wolf?”

“She’s more interested in her games than a baby-sitting job. And Sam… at least Bladie looks human. And rather handsome, too. But from what you’ve told me about your sister, he’s not her type. And she’s not his either; too young.”

“… I’ll entrust her to you, Kafka.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hsr #blade x reader #yandere blade x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #blade honkai star rail #yandere blade #hsr

[cerise-on-top]

How do you think Laswell met her wife? What's domestic life like for her when she gets to go home?

Have a lovely day!

Hello! A second CoD post today since I was able to write this fairly quickly! This is about how I think Laswell met her canon wife, but everyone can interpret this however they like! I hope this is enjoyable!

Laswell Meeting Her Wife and Domestic Life With Her

If we’re talking about someone inserting themselves into the CoD world, then I’d say it’d be however the person intended to meet her. However, if we’re talking about her canon wife, then I’d likely have to say through work. It’s not uncommon for someone to meet through work. Besides, I can imagine the CIA having a few women working there as well, a few more than just Laswell. So, there’s a chance another one of the women working there was also into girls. And that’s likely one of the main factors that drew Laswell to that specific woman.

Don’t get me wrong, Laswell doesn’t develop crushes easily, she doesn’t now, she didn’t back then, but it would likely be that feeling of unity, of not being alone, that would draw Laswell to her future wife. It’s not often someone would have come out back then, especially not to someone you’re not sure about, so she knows something like that is an honor. And it’s that which would make her subconsciously like that woman more than the other ones, wanting to spend more time with her, get to know her better. And in those years she’d have known her, she’d eventually fall in love with her. Laswell knows what she’s feeling, but she’d test the waters a bit at first. To anyone outside it would be obvious she likes that woman more than anyone else. Given that she gives her lots and lots of gifts to gauge her reaction, takes the time out of her day to spend with her and overall just compliments her, it’s hard to not think there’s something going on here. Laswell doesn’t realize this immediately, but she will eventually.

Afterwards I’d say it was probably her wife who asked her about that sort of behavior. And, a few days later, either of them would have probably confessed they like the other. And thus a few years of dating commence.

After a year or two, Laswell would have proposed to her. Although she sometimes did lie awake at night, thinking about what it would have been like for her future wife to propose to her instead, she was just that smitten by her. As she works for the CIA as well, Laswell knows her wife is just as capable as she is. Maybe she doesn’t know as many languages, but it doesn’t matter to her, once they go on vacation Laswell can play interpreter. And on vacations they went together. Not very often, mind you, since the both of them were stationed anywhere in the world, but they would try to see the nicer parts of the world together. Amsterdam, Kyoto, Vienna. All of that stuff. By that time, they had already long since moved in together.

So, it isn’t often the two of them get to see each other in general, but that’s why they cherish what little time they can spend together. Their love never falters, and when they’re alone behind doors it’s kind of sickeningly sweet how they treat each other. It used to be worse when they were younger, but they’ve since mellowed out a little bit. So, when Laswell is home, her domestic situation can be a bit lonely. But for the sake of this ask we’re going to say her wife is actually home this time.

She doesn’t like to cook very much, so there won’t be too many homemade meals. Her wife can only be convinced to stand behind the stove whenever Laswell eggs her on, promising her a small reward, such as going to the cinema together. Her wife never cooks alone, only with Laswell. All those other times she either eats out, grabs something that only needs to be heated up or orders food. It’s only with Laswell that she can get over her disdain of cooking.

However, other than that, the two of them will take turns doing chores. If either of them just came home from work, then the other will take care of cleaning, washing clothes, putting away stuff and so on and so forth. They usually do their tasks together. So one of them will clean the dishes while the other one cleans the kitchen. If all tasks are done for either of them, then they’ll help the other. Since they’re both aware teamwork is important, something they learned throughout their careers, they would never hesitate to do so.

Laswell’s wife is a more traditionally affectionate woman than Laswell herself. She loves to give her wife a kiss every morning and before work, make her coffee and maybe toast some bread while she’s at it as well. As she usually gets up earlier than Laswell, she usually gets those things out of the way immediately, but won’t wake her up. It’s usually the loud coffee machine that does.

Overall, the domestic situation between the two of them is very loving. They don’t see each other that often, but whenever they do, they make that short amount of time count. With a kiss and a hug from her wife here and there, Laswell never ends up touch starved either. However, the only thing that had been bothering her about her wife would be her nagging about her smoking. That’s why she’s trying to quit now, just to keep her happy. Happy wife, happy life, after all. Whenever Laswell gets to see her wife content, she’s happy as well. She’d go through all nine circles of hell just to protect her and make sure nothing would happen to her. And at some point in her career, she likely has done that already.

#cod #kate laswell #today is a very non-reader insert heavy day it seems but that's alright as well #I also got another request I'll be posting tomorrow. another one about Laswell! #people have been really loving on her as of late but I don't mind that in the slightest! she deserves it! #Laswell would be a very loving wife I'd say! not as cuddly or hug-y as other people but she loves giving gifts #receiving a lot of gifts from her is one way of telling she's into you so she's very affectionate like that #her wife is also a really sweet woman who knows how to put her foot down though #it's that sweetness and kindness that also drew Laswell in as well #they're also both about the same age even if her wife started working for the CIA a bit earlier than Laswell did #I HC that Laswell started when she was 25 so her wife likely started when she was 23 or so #Laswell has been working for the CIA for a long time now and so has her wife. but they're both very competent and know what they do #I also HC them both to be in their early/mid 50's as well so they have been dating for a while #I like to think Laswell got married in her early 30's and they got together when she was in her late 20's #lots of Laswell HC lore drop tonight it seems

[moonlightchn]

The early morning light filters in through the gap in the curtains, the sounds of the birds waking up could do nothing to disturb them, especially since Irene’s phone doesn’t make a sound. No alarm to wake her up, no phone calls to answer, no texts, no emails; silence until she naturally wakes up in her lover’s arms, smiling as she kisses his chin because she knows that the moment she stirred, he woke up too. “Happy birthday, my wolf.” She whispers, kissing every inch of skin she can until he lets her kiss his lips, smiling when his hold tightens. “I’m not going anywhere today. Today is about you.”

What do you give someone who wants for nothing? Who never asks for anything, who gives no indication of what he would like for his birthday or any day that could mean gift giving? What do you give someone who seems practically content with everything he has?

You give him time. Love. You give him Irene.

That’s what she gives him, as the morning slowly passes and the lovers are wrapped up in each other. She gives him her, the one thing he can never seem to get enough of. She’s planned a day, a day to show him how loved he is but the morning? That’s them, like this, behind closed doors and under the sheets, Irene gives Chris everything that she is.

Even if it’s clear she’s always been his.

She gets up to cook him lunch, the morning having already passed so she rolls out of bed, covered in him in all the ways that makes him happy and grabs his shirt to put on. “Stay in bed,” she whispers against his lips, a hand on his chest to encourage him back to bed when it seems like he’s going to follow her. “We’ll be going out a little later so stay in bed and let me bring you your lunch.” She chuckles, shaking her head when he tries to convince her to stay — he’ll be fine just having her but she knows they are both hungry, even if Chris thinks he can sate himself on her alone.

The smell of bacon brings the cats meowing, purring as they rub against her leg and Irene hums softly, some of Chris’ music playing softly to give her background noise as she cooks. “Oh, hungry, hm?” She chuckles, giving each of their cats a little cut of raw bacon as she waits for everything to cook. Laughing when she sees Chris coming into the kitchen, asking if she’s going to feed him like she’s feeding their pets.

It’s big, it’s loaded, it’s definitely a meal, Irene plates it all up — a steak open sandwich complete with fries and two eggs. “I’m meant to be pampering you, my love,” the woman tells the wolf off since he seems to be stuck to her and not really letting her spoil him but of course, it’s his birthday and if he wants to be stuck to her, who is she to say no?

It doesn’t stop her though. Once they had eaten and went back to their room, Irene suggests a bath before they leave the house. “It’s important, my love,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bath with her hand in the water as it fills up, making sure it’s the right temperature. “It’s going to be just us, don’t worry but we do need to go out to admire it.” Oh, she’s excited, as Irene lets Chris undress her, slipping into the perfectly heated tub with him and letting him have his way while she tries to wash him, Irene is so excited for the gift she’s prepared — something only she can do for him.

It’s perfect. Of course it is because she picked it specifically for him but the way Irene dresses up could shame every model in the world, the dress hugging her curves and flowing as she twirls to show off for him. Irene had kept this dress hidden away for a special occasion and this was it, a dress that accentuated all the physical features that Chris loved about her while also being stunning to wear outside. She did all this for him, even if he loves her in his own clothes or no clothes at all, there’s something about Irene when she dresses to impress that makes it hard to compare or compete and she only recently has been doing it for him. To take his breath away, to make his heart beat faster and look at her like his whole world existed in her. She loves it when he looks at her like that. She loves knowing how much of an effect she has on him.

“A hint about your gift,” their fingers intertwine as Chris drives towards the address she gave — a small little studio nearby the cafe she owns. “I’ve been working on it for some months now. Remember when we went to the museum, the art work I spoke about and told you was my own?” She smiles, remembering the words he had said before they went to an exhibit that displayed some of her work that she had left behind years ago. “Well, I wanted to create something for you. Photographs fade, memories too, letters are often lost but there is something about art that seems to last forever.” Irene looks at him as she speaks, memorising the sharpness of his jaw and the way his side profile looks when he’s driving. “It also captures a beauty that is hard to explain. I could describe my love for you, I could tell you and words would never truly capture it but yet, if I showed you, you’d be able to see yourself through my eyes, in the way I see you.”

That’s what awaits them at the studio. Sketches and paintings, memories they shared but also moments where she found him most beautiful. Some are detailed, vibrant colours from happier memories while others are rough, sketches that show the pain she can sometimes see when he’s not aware that she’s looking. A small studio filled with him, his details, the life they have built together and even some drawings that she’s taken from photos they’ve taken. “This is my favourite,” she holds his hand, pulling him towards a painting she had down of Chris shirtless, laying on the couch as he reads with the four cats laying on him and Spartan napping on the floor beside him. She didn’t know why but she started to feel nervous, his quietness not unusual but causing her a little worry over what he thought. “What do you think?” She asks, turning to look up at him, vulnerability in her eyes as they soften when meeting his. “I wanted to show you… well, I guess I wanted you to know how much emotion you bring into my life. Even if it’s not the life you may have wanted, this life that we have, I hope I could show you how full it is because it’s the life I am sharing with you.” She speaks softly, squeezing his hand and hoping he loves it.

As the night creeps up on them, Irene kisses him, whispering promises of forever on his lips as his arms hold her tightly. Her fingers card through his hair as seconds turn to minutes and the world around them seems to still, keeping them in their own little world until they decide to part. “Happy birthday, Christopher Bang,” she smiles up at him, holding his face in her hands so gently as her eyes shine brightly with all the love she carries in her heart for him. “I hope this is one you’ll remember forever.”

#submissions~ #irene 🌸 baby

[xshinx86]

♥The little wolf and the mechanic♥

Part 5 of the BL love story.

Story/Sims by #Shinx86

A new day dawned, Flo was already quite early on his feet. Inner restlessness let him no longer sleep. Tyson, on the other hand, slept like a rock, only when something loud rattled he was torn from his dreams.

Tyson: Mom I made my bed! Oh… what was that? Jesus what time is it? I'm not fit for whatever yet.

Tyson yawned sleepily and slid out of bed. Still beside himself, he slipped on his slippers and ran out of the bedroom. In the background, more clattering could be heard, obviously someone is up to mischief in the kitchen. As Tyson arrived in the kitchen, he couldn't believe his eyes. Flo was trying to prepare breakfast for both of them, unfortunately his talent in cooking was not the greatest and the kitchen resembled a battlefield. Tyson however started smirking and ran behind him. He put his hand on Flo's head and tousled his hair. Flo startled slightly and dropped whatever he was holding.

Flo: Ahh! Why are you scaring me like that!!! That's not funny.

Tyson: Hahaha, sorry Flo, I didn't mean to scare you. But tell me what's going on here so early in the morning? Were you trying to make breakfast?

Flo turned red around the nose and looked down in shame. Tyson realized right away that Flo really wanted to make breakfast.

Tyson: That's really sweet of you, you know? What do you think, should we work together? I think it's much easier hand in hand. Have you ever made breakfast before Flo?

Flo: No not really, that was always done by my mother. I've seen her do it too, but doing it all by myself, no, not really. I wanted to make you one because you always cook me something.

Tyson looked at Flo in surprise, now it was him who was blushing. Flo can be so damn cute, he thought to himself. And yes Flo was really cute, how could you ever be mad at him for anything?

Tyson: I see, yeah … Okay let's get some order first and then we'll make scrambled eggs and bacon. What do you think about that?

Flo: Sounds great, I'll go get the broom and clean up!

Both cleaned the kitchen and then they cooked their breakfast together. The familiar togetherness gave Flo a pleasant feeling. He had to think of Jerimy and what he said to him. "You have to ask him, Flo! Come on, I dare you!"

Tyson: That was delicious, how does it look like you want to go out again today? If you like we can visit your new friend once. You told me that he lives near here.

Flo: Jerimy, hm yes why not. He was very nice and I would also like to meet his friend Tommes.

Tyson: Well, let's get our shoes on. We can do the dishes later.

A short time later, both ran through the forest. Flo always lifted his nose in the air, which may have looked strange but had a very specific reason. Tyson still had to get used to this behavior but he believed more and more that Flo was a wolf, so he just let him do it.

Tyson: And where do we have to go? I know houses around here but that someone new has moved in is new to me.

Flo: His scent is quite strong, I think he should be behind the next trees.

And it was, just a few trees away a clearing appeared and the house they were looking for. Flo and Tyson ran to the door and knocked. A handsome man opened the door for them and started to smile.

Tommes: Oh well if it isn't Flo and his friend? Hi I am Tommes, Jerimy told me about you. And since I smell wolf here, you can only be Flo, am I right?

Both look at Tommes surprised.

Flo: How can you smell me? You are not a wolf or are you?

Tommes: Hehe, no I'm not, but thanks to Jerimy I've learned how wolves smell. I'm sorry to be so rude, but come on in.

Tommes just took a step to the side when something small hopped past him and joyfully jumped into Flo's arms.

Jerimy: Flo! Ahh there you are at last! I am so happy! Let me cuddle you!

Flo: Whew ~ Jerimy, yes I'm happy too, but could you please not smother me?

Jerimy gave a joyful growl and if he were in his wolf form, he would surely be wagging his tail like a happy dog right now. Jerimy grabbed Flo`s hand and pulled him inside. The house was cozy and very neatly furnished, so that one immediately felt at home.

Jerimy: Are you hungry? Hmm, no you just ate I smell eggs and bacon on you. But tell me, how was it, did you ask him?

Flo immediately hissed sheepishly at Jerimy and pulled him around the next corner. Tommes went into the kitchen with Tyson to offer him a cup of coffee and strike up a conversation.

Flo: No, I haven't dared yet. But I tried to make him breakfast this morning. Which didn't really work, he ended up making breakfast again. What should I do? I don't want him to throw me out if I just ask him.

Jerimy: Oh, don't worry about it. If he throws you out, you just come to us! We have room and I really like you. And friends are there to help each other.

Flo: Thanks Jerimy, that's nice of you. Now I feel much better. But I don't know how to tell him yet.

Tommes and Tyson got along great. They were on the same wavelength, so the conversation quickly turned to wolves.

Tommes: Wolves, huh? How did you meet your wolf? Jerimy told me that Flo is all alone, but one of the good ones.

Tyson: I'm still a little bit up in the air about the wolf thing. I mean, yeah, I believe he is. I just came from work and he was sitting by the lake looking sadly at the water. It was raining and I thought maybe he needed an umbrella or something, so I approached him.

Tommes: Rain, oh yes. You know wolves love the rain, so Jerimy loves it idolatrously. We always go for long walks when it rains.

Tommes noticed Tyson looking around for Flo. He had to smile and leaned over the counter a bit.

Tommes: He did it to you, didn't he? I know that feeling too well, it's the same with Jerimy.

Tyson looked at Tommes in surprise.

Tyson: I don't know if that's good or bad. I mean, how do you do it? I'm always worried I'm going to do something wrong and then one time he bites my head off in my sleep.

Tommes started laughing and shook his head in amusement.

Tommes: No, don't worry, they are normal people if you look at it that way. Just with a special gift. But don't worry, Flo is a peaceful wolf. Otherwise you would have long ago no more head. But I understand your insecurity, to live together with a wolf is not easy. You have quite a few strange habits.

Almost at the same time both said " chewing shoes" and started to laugh. The laughter did not go unnoticed. Flo and Jerimy have good ears and immediately ran over to them.

Jerimy: What are you laughing at?! You're not making fun of us, are you?

Tommes: No, my cuddly friend, nobody is laughing at you. I was just telling Tyson something about you wolves. I'm going to get something, take something to drink if you want.

Tommes gave Jerimy an unconnected kiss as he passed and ran out of the kitchen. Tyson and Flo only embarrassedly looked to the side to resist.

Jerimy: Yes this is Tommes, Flo. He and I are a couple, I've been through a lot with him and he's still by my side. If I'm honest, I've become attached to him.

Flo: Really committed? So there is no one else you can smell good anymore?

Jerimy: Yep really bound, he even knows my other form.

Flo looked at Jerimy curiously.

Jerimy: Um … Flo? Wasn't there something you wanted to do? Something about that one thing, you know.

A short wave went in the direction of Tyson. Tyson looked at them both in disbelief and wondered what was coming. Flo just blushed and shook his head hastily.

Flo: Ahhh! No no, it's okay Jerimy. That can still wait. I think we have to go again, don't you? It's so late already!

Tyson: Late? We just got here, didn't we? Are you okay Flo? I mean if you'd rather go again, then we'll go.

Flo: No, I … no we don't have to go yet. I just meant that I have to go for little wolves.

Tyson: Oh, yeah then go ahead or do you need help with that?

Awkward silence and then Jerimy burst out laughing.

Jerimy: Hahaha, you guys are really cute together. Flo now give yourself a break! I'm behind you, trust me, you can do it!

Tommes returned to the kitchen carrying a thick book under his arm. He stood by Jerimy and looked curiously around.

Flo: Alright, but Tyson you have to promise not to laugh at me for this.

Tyson: Alright, I promise Flo.

Curious, Tyson looked at Flo and wondered what he wanted to tell him now.

Flo: Good. Well I … I want to ask you something, Tyson. You said I can stay with you as long as I want. But how exactly do you mean that? Are you telling me that we are family?

Tyson was briefly surprised, but quickly a joyful feeling crept in and he smiled affectionately. His hand gently reached for Flo's hand, a tender touch that set off a whole firework in the wolf and made him blush again.

Tyson: Yes Flo, that's what it means. I would love to be your family. You're a wonderful person, Wolf, and I want to know more about you. That is if you would like that too?

Flo's eyes lit up, he was overjoyed and overwhelmed by his feelings. He joyfully pulled Tyson into an intimate hug and squealed happily. Tommes and Jerimy were also delighted to see both of them like this.

Tommes: I'm happy for you two, you know we should become friends. After all, we have a lot in common. Oh and here Tyson, I wrote this book, it will help you get along better with your family member.

The book Tommes put on the counter was titled "My life with a wolf". So all four spent another great afternoon together and got to know each other better.

#sims 4 #the sims 4 #sims story #bl lovestory #boys love #shinx86 #lgbtq

[onlythebravest]

4, 15, 16, for the non-american asks :}

hii, and thank you! and I’m sorry for the extremely long andwers, apparently I’m talkative today 😂

4. favourite dish specific for your country?

honestly I’m not really into the “classic” swedish food, but there are a few I like. I really like meatballs, but I prefer them with pasta over potatoes/mashed potatoes, lingonberries and some kind of sauce. although if I eat them with potatoes, lingonberry sauce is a must. the potatoes, lingonberry and sausage combo is the more classic one though. I also like falukorv, it’s a type of sausage. preferably just sliced and fried, paired with either pasta or ”summer potatoes” and fried eggs. (we have a specific name for potatoes that are freshly taken up form the ground, does english not have that?? it’s not summer potato in english but it sounded better than new potato or fresh potato which are a more literal translation bc you can only get them during summer) anyway, I don’t think you can get falukorv elsewhere? I remember nhl players saying it was one of the first things they ate when they came home for the summer 😂 so it’s very swedish, which you can also guess from the name since it’s named from a city (Falun). oh is oven pancakes swedish? I love those too. but I’d probably say meatballs are my favorite. they’re also one of my comfort foods so I eat them a lot, the frozen premade ones, i can’t cook and my mom only makes homemade ones for christmas

15. a saying, joke, or hermetic meme that only people from your country will get?

oh idk. well, okay I don’t know how well known this is anymore, esp with mine + the younger generation, but “kära örebroare”. could the zlatan song count here? I’m not sure. I’m useless at culture 😂

16. which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?

that we have great healthcare. no, it fucking sucks. idk if that’s an actual stereotype but I’ve seen ppl say how great our healthcare are. or the rest of the world’s healthcare is absolutely shit, since we still manage to get hospitals highly ranked. it blows my mind, honestly. I’ve got so many horror stories for you about it. and then one that’s kinda true is that we’re not really friendly and all that. it’s not that, it’s maybe more that we’re not as approachable? we value personal space, you do not sit next to someone on the bus if there are free spaces elsewhere, big no no. if someone did that to me I’d probably sigh loudly, glare a little or even get up and move myself to a free space 😂 so I get where the unfriendliness part comes from

hi I’m not from the us ask game

#thank you!! #hi I’m not from the us ask game

[magickastiel]

Heavenly Connection

summary: Dean discovers Spotify and, more specifically, the playlists about him. And Cas.

complete, 4.5k, ao3

for @apathetichristmascracker for the @spnvalentines gift exchange!

-

Dean’s midway through cooking a greasy breakfast when Sam comes back from his run, sweating, grinning and talking very loudly on the phone.

“ - dude, it totally suits you! It’s amazing. I don’t know how they managed it. It’s…almost biblical.”

There’s a rumbling crackle on the other end of the phone but Dean can’t quite work out who it is.

Who the hell would Sam be calling dude at nine in the morning on a sunny Thursday? He supposes it could be another hunter. Sam is better at keeping in touch with people they’ve met on the road.

Wait, does Sam have a friend he doesn’t know about? Huh. Look at the kid go.

Dean’s sitting down with his bacon, eggs and toast and just taking a swig of coffee by the time Sam hangs up the phone and plops down in the seat opposite him.

Dean waits, fork paused, to hear Sam’s explanation.

He just glugs his green smoothie and sweats some more. “Man, it’s warm out there already today.”

“Yeah.” Dean narrows his eyes, chewing his bacon with a clenched jaw.

“Oh!” Sam takes an obnoxiously long drink before continuing. “Cas said he’ll be back this evening.”

“What?”

Sam blinks into the suddenly tense mood. He half waves his phone at him. “Cas. He’ll be back today.” He meets Dean’s hard stare blankly. “What? Why are you glaring?”

“I’m not.” Dean says quickly, trying and failing to take the clipped tone out of his voice. “Just…didn’t think you and Cas had…you know…buddy calls.”

Sam snorts. “Buddy calls? What, you thought he only called you to check in?”

“No.” Yes.

“Sure.” Sam smirks as he wanders over to the sink to rinse his cup.

Dean huffs and shovels eggs into his mouth.

It’s fine. He glares at Sam’s stupid back. It’s good. Sam and Cas should be friends. They are friends. It’s great they’ve got their own phone calls to talk about stuff and that’s absolutely nothing to do with -

“What were you talking about?”

“What?” Sam asks over his shoulder as he fills his water bottle.

Dean grits his teeth. “What were you and Cas talking about?”

“Really?” Sam gives him an incredulous look. “You’ve really got to know?”

“No.” Dean shrugs but it’s too aggressive to be convincing. “Don’t gotta tell me. Just wondering.”

“Right.” Sam smiles to himself. Smug little s - “Don’t think you’d enjoy it anyway.”

If anything can lure Dean into being interested in something, it’s someone telling him he wouldn’t like it. He is suddenly determined to make whatever Sam and Cas’ joint interest his favourite thing ever. He’ll learn Latin if he has to. He’ll learn Enochian -

“We were talking about music.”

“Dude!” Dean explodes, almost sending his empty plate flying. “I love music! Why did ya think I wouldn’t wanna talk about that?”

Sam sighs and turns to face him, looking amused and exasperated all at once.

“It’s…uh - ”

“What?”

“It’s not just talking about random music. I kinda…found something out a few weeks ago.” He eyes Dean cautiously. “You won’t like it.”

“Won’t like what?!”

“Well,” Sam begins overly dramatically. He wanders back to his seat at the table opposite Dean. “You know how Chuck wrote those stories about us?”

Dean’s stomach churns. “Yeah. Freaky.”

Sam winces, pulling his phone out. “Yeah, I know. But…I found this playlist on Spotify - ”

“What?”

“Man, you have to start listening to music on something other than cassettes.”

“I listen to vinyl!”

“I mean digitally.” Sam glares over the top of his phone before showing it to Dean.

He peers at the screen, momentarily confused about what he’s seeing. It’s a playlist - a long playlist judging by the run-time at the top of the screen. His eyes skim over the songs. A few artists jump out at him and he snorts. Lady Gaga, Fall Out Boy, Taylor Swift.

When Sam scrolls up he sees the title. ‘I’m unclean | sam winchester’

Dean’s smirk slips away and his blood runs cold.

“What the hell? You’re telling me someone made that?” Dean goes from shocked to furious in 0.2 seconds. “About you? Being ‘unclean’? That’s such bullshit, man! Look, we’re gonna have to, like…call this stupid website. What’s their number? I’ll call them right now, get them to take it down. Loada shit - ”

Sam just laughs. “You want to call Spotify and get them to take a playlist down about me? Dude, it’s got 68 likes - it’s not exactly viral. Besides,” He looks down at his phone with a grin. “It’s a good playlist honestly.”

Dean pauses, midway through finding his own phone. “What? You actually like it? Sam, you’re not unclean - ”

Sam laughs again. “No, no. I know that. This playlist isn’t saying that’s what I am, Dean. It’s about me as a person. It’s about how I see myself. It’s about me as a character in a story.”

“But you’re not - ”

“I know.” Sam’s grinning, like he’s actually pleased about this horrible new development in their twisted lives. “But to the people that read those books and make these playlists, I am a character. And it’s kinda cool to see how they see me through music.”

“You mean there’s more than one playlist?”

“Dude, there’s loads. Actually, there’s uh…” He almost giggles as he fiddles with his phone again. “I clicked on the account that made this playlist to see if they made one about you too - ”

Dean perks up. “Did they?”

“No, actually. But they did - ha - they made this one.” He holds up his phone again and Dean almost splinters the coffee cup in his hands.

‘Nothing Is Worth Losing You | Sastiel’

Sam’s smirking. Dean isn’t. “Apparently, ‘sastiel’ is a thing. That’s how me and Cas started talking about these playlists in the first place. I sent it to him ‘cause I thought he’d find it funny. There are some good songs on it too. Romantic ones - ”

“But that doesn’t fit you and Cas.” Dean snaps.

“No.” Sam puts his phone away again, a smug expression on his face. “But it’s fun to listen to. And I’ve discovered loads of new music this way. Cas sent me a great playlist he found about him last night. That’s what we were talking about this morning.”

“Right.” Dean tries and fails to unclench his jaw.

“So, yeah. Now you know.” Sam stands and stretches like a man who hasn’t just tortured his brother. “I’m going for a shower. Maybe you should get on Spotify, Dean. Check out all the playlists about you.”

He glares so hard Sam actually winces. “Pass. I don’t need a bunch of mouth-breathing, ‘Supernatural’ nerd fans to tell me what music to listen to, thank you very much.”

_

Dean has a Spotify account by lunch time.

He tried cleaning Baby, he tried watching Dr. Sexy, he tried doing a complete inventory of his weapons.

But those dumb playlist are all he can think about.

So by lunchtime, he’s given in. He lies on his belly on his bed, chomping on an excellent grilled cheese sandwich as he scrolls through his phone.

He searches his own name first, fingers slipping over the letters. The titles of the playlists throw him.

songs that dean winchester secretly listens to

Dean winchester and his daddy issues

Dean Winchester's emotional repression

repressed bi eldest daughter complex (derogatory) dean winchester

He tries to work that one out until his head hurts. He chooses the one just titled:

Dean Winchester ☀️

He can manage that. He opens the playlist and rolls his eyes so hard he sees stars when the first song is by Beyoncé. Daddy Lessons.

But the song immediately regains his interest as it starts. There’s a rowdy, backwater country feel to it that makes him soften to it. If this is how people see him, he can live with that. Hell, it sounds country enough to make him want to put his cowboy hat on.

‘Came into this world - daddy’s little girl. And daddy made a soldier out of me.’

Ok, that’s…Dean swallows. That’s a little too on the nose. He quickly skips to the next track.

Springsteen. Dancing in the Dark. Thank god. He lets that one play, his foot jiggling along. He lets the beat carry him over the lyrics that try to suck him in like quicksand.

‘I ain’t nothing but tired. Man, I’m just tired and bored with myself - ‘

The next few tracks make him feel cold. He’s not sure what he expected, but he definitely hadn’t thought the songs would be so…tragic. The melancholic opening bars of one called ‘Smother’ makes him skip it almost immediately.

Song after song, he feels his grip on himself loosen.

Dean’s under no illusion about the hollowness in his chest, the aching void that is never sated no matter how many breakfasts he cooks with Sam, how many movies he watches with Cas, how many hour long chats he has with Jody.

He’s greedy for attention, for affection. For love.

He’s always been like it.

As a child, John would scoop him up and laugh as Dean clung to him, unwilling to let go. His tiny fingers would only loosen on his father’s shirt at the feel of his mother’s arms around him. He’d cling on to her while she bustled around the house, face half-pressed into her blonde hair. She never seemed to mind, humming softly to both of them as she worked.

Then she was gone. And John stopped holding him.

Dean still remembers the first motel they stayed in after the fire. The faint smell of mildew in the air was overtaken by the choking scent of smoke from their clothes. Sammy slept propped against some pillows and John sat on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. Dean thought it would make both of them feel better if they hugged.

He’d only managed to get one little arm under John’s before he was being roughly pushed away. There was a darkness in his father’s eyes he had never seen before and the shock jolted him out of his desire for comfort.

He never tried again. He clung to Sammy instead. He was a baby so he couldn’t push Dean away.

But Sammy got bigger and bigger and then left.

And the hollow void in his chest ached. So he distracted himself with hook-ups and hunts. That would work for a few days but then he’d find himself alone again and the space yawned wider.

He scrubs his hand over his face and pulls his headphones off. His eyes feel dry and tight, like he should be crying but he can’t work out how.

He looks down at his phone and chuckles despite himself.

Ok. Maybe those Supernatural nerds know what they’re doing.

He’s about to give up for the day when he remembers the other playlist Sam showed him. ‘Sastiel’. Dean’s trying not to think about why that sets his teeth on edge.

He clicks on the username of the person who made the playlist he’d been listening to. He scrolls through a few labelled things he doesn’t recognise before he spots it.

Destiel

He can respect a simple title. He clicks on it and stares at the runtime: four hours and fifty seven minutes. Ok, this particular nerd obviously has quite a lot to say about ‘destiel’.

Despite himself, he grins at the title of the first song. Angel With a Shotgun. He shoves his headphones back on, hits play and feels a swoop of excitement as the song rumbles on, upbeat and strong. Like Springsteen, he lets the rhythm carry him past the lyrics that should make him pause.

He really doesn’t want to stop and think too hard on, ‘I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back, I’ll throw away my faith to keep you safe. Don’t you know you’re everything I have?’

It’s not as if that has to be romantic, right? Pushing aside the fact this is a ‘destiel’ playlist, it could still be platonic. He kind of is everything Cas has. Or at least, he was. But now Cas is friends with Sam, and Mom and he keeps in touch with Claire.

And that’s great. Dean forces himself to smile before realising he’s alone in his room so he doesn’t have to. The aching gets stronger in his chest.

The next song comes on without him noticing.

Fast Car by Tracy Chapman.

He rolls over onto his back and listens. This one’s...yeah. This one’s good. The sense of companionship - finding someone who is stuck just like you are.

He smiles up at the ceiling.

‘Maybe together we can get somewhere...’

_

Dean hunches over his phone in the kitchen that evening, the smell of homemade lasagne cooking in the oven.

Sam’s talking but Dean’s too busy to listen. He’s reading the lyrics to ‘E.T.’, confused how this particular song apparently relates to him and Cas.

He’s just feeling some type of way about ‘Could you be an angel? Your touch, magnetising, feels like I am floating, leaves my body glowing’ when his phone abruptly leaves his hand.

He blinks and lunges for it but it’s too late.

“Dude, I’ve been talking to you for a half hour now and got nothing back. What are you - ” Sam trails off, eyes widening as he flicks through the lyrics and sees Spoitfy is open in the background. “Really?” Pure glee lights up his brother’s face. “A ‘Destiel’ playlist?”

Dean tries to be cool despite his face burning. “You were going on and on about it! I thought I should see what people are saying!”

Sam snorts. “I was not ‘going on and on about it’. I mentioned it because you’re so possessive of Cas that you just had to know what we were talking about.”

“What?” Dean squeaks, and forcibly lowers his voice again. “I’m not…possessive of Cas! That’s so…you don’t know what you’re…that’s a loada bull!”

“Why are you both shouting my name?”

Ah, shit.

“Hey, Cas.” Sam says smoothly, smirking.

Dean, thinking Sam’s sufficiently distracted, lunges for his phone again but Sam holds it just out of reach. Desperate and annoyed, Dean stamps on Sam’s foot and he cries out. Dean pulls his phone from his grasp and roughly shoves it into his pocket.

Cas is watching them with a slight tilt to his head and a furrow in his brow.

“Is everything alright?” He says, so sincere Dean feels embarrassed.

“Yeah. Just Sam being a dick.”

“Dean was listening to a ‘destiel’ playlist.” Sam says, because apparently Dean raised him to be a total bastard. Sam smirks as he tries to rub his foot through his shoe.

“Oh.” Cas blinks, looking at Dean with those eyes. All-seeing and soft and so blue. “Is it…a good one?”

Not the question Dean expected to get but it’s one he can work with. “Y-yeah. Not bad. Don’t get some of the songs but…ya know. Not my playlist, I guess.”

He can feel Sam’s eyes flickering between them. Dean’s definitely going to spit on his lasagne before he gives it to him.

Cas just hums, thinking. Dean can never tell what he’s thinking which strikes him as very unfair because Cas always seems to be able to get a read on him.

“I have an excellent one bookmarked.” Cas says, reaching into his pocket and retrieving his phone. “I will send it to you.”

Dean’s brain switches off.

_

Thing is, he keeps listening to them.

It’s stupid, but now he’s started, it’s kinda hard to stop. It’s like all those people that read their horoscope, or take personality tests - at some level, everyone wants to hear about themselves from someone else.

Even for someone who hates himself as much as Dean does, it’s fascinating when someone holds up an image of you and says this is how I see you.

It takes a few weeks for him to admit to himself that a lot of them are right.

And it’s oddly comforting when he’s feeling frustrated with a case, or upset about Mom leaving or annoyed with Sam or missing Cas, there’s pretty much always a song tailored made for him and his emotions.

Particularly emotions regarding Cas.

There’s playlist after playlist about them and Dean’s steadily working through them all. He’s also bookmarked the one Cas sent him and has no idea how to process the fact that someone made a romantic playlist about them that both of them listen to. It’s funny, right?

Right?

Weeks later, Dean has a moment of weakness and lets Sam choose the music while he drives. They’re bone tired and they’ve been on the road too long. First they had a lead on Kelly in Jackson, Ohio which turns out to be a dud. Then on their way back, they stumble on a case in Flora, Illinois which takes almost a week.

Bruised and exhausted from dismantling a vamp nest, it’s all Dean can do to drive. So when Sam asks if he can put some music on for once, Dean just waves a hand, figuring it’ll be some folk/rock or maybe Celine Dion if he’s really unlucky.

He doesn’t really listen to it for a while, too focused on not falling asleep at the wheel to think about anything other than the road. A few of the songs sound familiar but he doesn’t dwell on it. It’s only after nearly an hour when a particularly distinctive intro kicks in does he actually pay attention.

‘No one on earth could feel like this, I’m thrown and overblown with bliss. There must be an angel playing with my heart…’

“What’s this?” He demands, voice rough from hours of silence.

Sam fidgets in his seat. “It’s Eurythmics.”

“Yeah, I know.” And he does know. He’s played the song himself enough times. “I mean, what’s this playlist?”

“Oh, uh…” Sam holds his phone up and Dean takes his eyes off the road for a second to read the title.

heavenly connection - a destiel playlist

“Dude!” Dean is suddenly painfully awake. “Switch it off!”

“What? Why?” Sam rolls his eyes and lets the song play. “You listen to them all the time. Why can’t we listen to them in the car?”

“Because - ” It’s private. “Because it’s dumb, ok? Switch it off.”

“It’s ‘dumb’? Dean, that’s so - ”

“I said switch it off! NOW!”

“ALRIGHT! Alright. Jeez.” Sam jabs at his phone and huffs.

The car is plunged into silence.

Dean immediately feels stupid. There was no need for him to lose it. No need to shout at all. But there’s something too exposing about hearing the playlists out loud. Dean listens to them shut away in his room, headphones on to block out the rest of the world. They’re not for anyone else to hear.

If this is how he’s going to behave about it, maybe they shouldn’t be for him to hear either.

Besides, he’s got too much to think about now. Mom’s working god knows what, god knows where and Cas is…Cas hasn’t checked in for a while.

He clenches his jaw and pushes a little harder on the accelerator.

He’s going to leave those girly, emotional songs behind. He’s got a job to do and people to save.

The void in his chest rumbles like thunder.

_

Two months later, he goes crawling back to them.

More specifically, he goes back to the playlist Cas sent him.

He plays Florence + the Machine’s Cosmic Love over and over and over until the tears dry on his face and make his skin feel tight and stretched over his skull.

‘The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out - ’

Dead, dead, dead. What had that angel said? Oh, yeah. All the way dead. Gone and not coming back.

‘No dawn, no day. I’m always in this twilight.’

The bunker’s a great place to grieve. It’s easy to shut yourself in there like a tomb and rot. It would be even easier if Sam wasn’t hovering around, trying to feed him and get him to go outside.

What’s worth going outside for?

More monsters, more death, more ways for Dean to fail.

The song changes and he quickly flicks past the hopeful ones. He tried listening to those a few days ago but it was like putting vinegar on a burn.

He stops on Take Me to Church, letting the deep tone wash over him like hot water.

‘The only heaven I’ll be sent to is when I’m alone with you. I was born sick, but I love it. Command me to be well.’

The next case they take involves an old house filled with ghosts. Dean plunges the syringe into his chest without hesitation.

It’s not gambling if you don’t care about the outcome.

_

His headphones sit on the bedside table gathering dust while Dean whisper-sings along to Madonna.

He’s gotta pack for Dodge City. It’s a quick turn around but who cares when they’re back up to a full team?

‘It’s like a dream - no end and no beginning. You’re here with me, it’s like a dream.’

“Is this the playlist I sent you?” Cas is in the doorway, broad-shouldered and alive.

“Yeah.” Dean grins. His face flushes a little but he can’t bring himself to be embarrassed right now. He’s skipped all the downbeat songs to get to this one.

“Hmm.” Cas nods, a rare and precious smile on his face. “I like this song.”

“Yeah.” Dean has a vague memory of his father in his mind, scowling and flicking the car radio off when ten year old Dean jiggled his leg along to ‘Like a Prayer’. He takes a breath. “Me too.”

_

He doesn’t really use Spotify for anything else.

He doesn’t see the point - he’s got all his favourite albums on cassette or vinyl and he’s got no desire to listen to them digitally, no matter what Sam says.

He finds other music from the playlists though. More Taylor Swift, but Dean didn’t need much persuading there. If he's in the right mood, he likes listening to Florence + the Machine.

The songs are usually a bit weird and they usually remind him of Cas in some way or another. So when he’s been gone from the Bunker for a while, Dean listens to High As Hope.

‘Hunger’ hits him hard.

‘At seventeen I started to starve myself, I thought that love was a kind of emptiness. And at least I understood then the hunger I felt and I didn’t have to call it loneliness.’

He remembers being a kid and passing the last piece of bread to Sammy, stomach rumbling. At least when he was hungry, he couldn’t tell the difference between the space in his stomach and the space in his chest.

Now, he has the luxury of food in the kitchen and his own bed to sleep in. Nothing else to think about other than that ache in his chest.

Then Mom is gone again and the ache turns to fire.

_

He doesn’t listen to the playlists for a long time.

It churns his stomach knowing what Chuck has been doing. Maybe no one even made these playlists at all. Maybe they’re all Chuck’s invention, created to give Dean a soundtrack to his life inside the cage.

He’s trapped like a hamster in a wheel, running and running and never getting anywhere.

He uninstalls Spotify but doesn’t delete his account.

_

God is dead.

Well, not dead but his power has been ripped from him and that’s enough. It’s enough for Dean now. He’s trying to be better. Trying to be the man that…

Eileen’s back and Sam is buzzing around her, giddy with excitement. Dean wants to pack a bag and leave, let them be happy without him dragging them down.

But he’s got nowhere to go and Sam would only be on his ass ten minutes later to drag him back. He tries to be grateful. He tries to be happy in his freedom.

It’s what he wanted.

Dean manages to sit through dinner with the happiest couple on Earth. He laughs along with Eileen’s stories and torments Sam for her entertainment.

Then he goes to bed early, pulls off his clothes and slides beneath the covers. He slips on his headphones and reinstalls Spotify.

‘The End of Love’ is the first song that comes on because Chuck might be gone but the universe still likes to laugh at him. He lets it play because nothing can really make him hurt more than he already is. And he’s still self-destructive enough to lean into the pain.

‘I’ve always been in love with you. Could you tell it from the moment I met you?’

He feels like he’s stood in the water, looking up at a tidal wave high above his head. It’s going to crash down over him and he can’t escape it. No point in even trying.

‘We were a family pulled from a flood.’

He turns his face to let out the first sob into the bed. Just in case Sam’s walking by and hears him. His fingers curl into the pillow and he clings on as he cries, feeling like a child again; wailing and sobbing to his mother because his father put him down.

‘Joshua came down from the mountain with a tablet in his hands, told me that he loved me, and ghosted me again.’

The chasm in his chest is so big, it presses against his skull and makes his toes cold.

Dean thinks if he falls over, he’ll just crack open.

_

‘Feels like fire, I’m so in love with you. Dreams are like angels, they keep bad at bay - ‘

“Really?” Dean tries to mock but he’s smiling so much his cheeks are hurting. “You chose The Power of Love?”

Cas bristles, holding Dean’s hand a little tighter. “Yes. It’s a good song. It’s featured on many of the ‘destiel’ playlists - ”

“Yeah, yeah.” Dean grins, his fingers squeezing Cas’ hip slightly. “Weird first dance song, though.”

“Is it? Oh.” Cas looks genuinely troubled and impossibly handsome. Dean wants to kiss him.

Dean can kiss him. It’s fine. Encouraged, even. It’s their wedding, they’re expected to be sappy and embarrassing and make out if they want to.

So he kisses him and completely forgets that they’re supposed to be dancing. Luckily, Cas leads him in a soft sway, one large warm hand on the base of his back.

‘When the chips are down, I’ll be around with my undying, death-defying love for you.’

Cas hums against his lips and pulls away a little. They’re still close enough to share breath. It should be gross but Dean’s too happy to care.

“I stand by my choice.”

“Yeah?” Dean whispers. He’s vaguely aware of the faces, blurry and distant behind Cas’ head. Sam’s out there with Eileen, Garth and Bess, Jody and Donna and the girls. Bobby and Charlie and Stevie from the other world, even Rowena made a very dramatic appearance…they’re all there for them.

Dean’s so full of love he feels like he’s going to burst.

“Yes.” Cas says firmly, and holds Dean close.

‘The power of love. A force from above.’

Dean closes his eyes and trusts Cas to guide them.

#spnvalentinesgiftexchange #they're MARRIED #destiel #destielfic #deancas #dean winchester #castiel

[illyaana]

Collab: Chaos's Bearsday Collab by @chaos-night

Thanks for having this Collab hun! I hope you had/have an amazing birthday <3

Tags: Aged Up! Birthday boy! Izuku Midoriya x Binaural, SFW, Fluff

Synopsis: You thought this was going to be a normal birthday with Deku - the only thing that was different is you were going to make Katsudon, pork cutlet bowls, for Deku. What you weren't prepared for was a flirty Izuku Midoriya.

Word Count: 1689

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You groaned at the sound of your blaring alarm, forcing you awake. You raised your head to meet Izuku’s chin. His hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his body even more. You pressed against the bed, pushing yourself upwards to face the sleeping face of your beloved.

You adored the sight of the defenceless hero.

His dishevelled green hair mimicked a bush in the woods - wild yet so adorable. His lips were slightly parted, allowing soft snores to escape the powerful quirk user. His small freckles glowed under the soft sunlight entering your shared room from the window, leaving you in awe. His long lashes framed his closed eyelids.

Thankfully, your alarm turned itself off - he wasn’t letting you move anymore, not with the vice grip he had around you tightening unknowingly.

You couldn’t resist the urge to run the pad of your thumb against his soft lips - it looked so soft and supple. The rest of your fingers found their place on Izuku’s cheek, enjoying the warmth only he could radiate. You smiled, looking at the sleeping Izuku subconsciously pressing his cheeks against your fingers.

This is what you believed a life spent with him would look like - and you pray so that it stays like this.

“Hey,” you say as you kiss Midoriya’s forehead, “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Your alarm began to ring again, causing the hero beside you to groan loudly.

“Turn that thing off,” he said, placing his head on your shoulder, “We don’t need to wake up early today.”

This man… how was he the top hero?

You ruffled his hair, chuckling.

“Weren’t you the one who told me to wake you up early today?” you ask, recalling your conversation with him yesterday.

“I just wanted to spend the whole day with you, but I think we can do it from this bed, can’t we?” he said, pressing kisses on the nape of your neck.

“I think you forgot, Deku,” you say, cupping his cheeks, “You have a press conference with Bakugo and Todoroki today - you know, about your job as a hero?”

His eyelids shot open.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbled, making you laugh.

“It’s only,” you looked at the wall clock, “9 am right now. You have about 1 hour to get ready and head to the studio. That trip would take about 20 minutes.”

You smiled when you saw him visibly relax.

“Sadly,” you say, “You aren’t getting breakfast from me since I couldn’t even move one inch from the bed,” you gesture to his arms on your waist.

You kissed his forehead again, trying to wipe off the guilty smile he had on his face.

“Happy birthday, Midoriya Izuku. Now, go get ready.”

He kissed the apples of your cheeks before pressing his forehead against yours.

“Thanks, love.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

The minute you heard the door close, you got out your phone and called your mother-in-law.

“Hi!” she answered cheerfully, “You ready to do this?”

You turned the voice call into a video call, then propped your phone behind the salt shaker.

“Hopefully…” you trail off as you put on your apron, ��You don’t think I’ll burn anything or cause a fire, right?”

“If you’re anything like Izuku in terms of cooking, we’ll be fine.”

You weren’t.

Pancakes, waffles - you could handle that.

But meat? It definitely was not your forte.

Izuku’s the one who handled all the savoury dishes while you were the resident taste tester.

“Don’t worry - the very person who introduced him to the savoury dish is right here, showing you each step in detail. You won’t mess up that much,” you said to yourself as you brought out the ingredients.

You laid them out in front of her, allowing her to examine them thoroughly.

“First things first,” she said, moving to her couch, “You’re wearing your apron wrongly.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

You stared at the pan filled with onions, eggs and fried pork, feeling defeated.

You were supposed to move all of that into a small bowl of rice.

You were supposed to move a bunch of slippery onions doused in sauce, a steamed omelette that looked like it was going to break into two and a pork cutlet that you slaved over - all of that, into a small bowl of rice.

“Trust me, it’s pretty easy,” Inko said, trying to calm you down, “It just looks intimidating.”

“Intimidating is one way to explain it,” you said, staring at your hard work.

“Just do it, don’t worry - you have multiple backup pork cutlets if you mess up.”

“I know, but-”

“Just do it.”

You immediately placed the toppings into the bowl of rice without any spillage.

...or so you thought.

The whole thing spilt over the sides of the pan, missing the bowl of rice entirely.

“Try again, dear,” she said smiling, “No harm in trying again.”

⁜

⁜

⁜

After 5 tries, you managed to make two perfect bowls of fresh katsudon. The smell of the fried pork cutlets wafted through the air, making you smile at your hard work.

“It looks really good, dear,” she said, smiling, “He’ll love it.”

You smile at her cheerful gaze towards you.

“You sure you don’t want to come over? It’s just a fifteen-minute drive.”

“I appreciate you asking me,” she said, sighing, “But I think you two should spend the day together. I’m pretty sure you both haven’t spent much time together since your honeymoon.”

“You sure?” you ask once again.

“I’m very, very sure,” she says, chuckling, “Now go get ready.”

You placed your phone flat on the countertop and started to set the table. As soon as you finished, Izuku came into the house, a tired expression painted on his face.

“You okay?” You say as you walk towards him.

“How rude of them to make me work on my own birthday?” he chuckled softly.

He looked to the dining table and his eyes lit up.

“Did you made Katsudon?” he asked, the tired expression he once had leaving his face.

“Yeah, I did,” you say as you help him take off his jacket.

“However,” you place his hands on his chest, “You need to go bathe.”

“What’s with everyone bullying me today?” he huffed.

“Bullying or taking care of you?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” he trailed off.

“Just go bathe,” you say, chuckling as you push him towards your room.

“Oh no,” he said as you pushed him, “My feet can’t move.”

This grown kid.

“So I’m supposed to carry you bridal style now?” you joke.

“ I did it to you, didn’t I?” he whispers in your ear.

You felt blood rush to your cheeks the minute the sentence left his lips.

This man…

“Wow, my feet work now! I’ll go bathe,” he said as he kissed your cheek.

This man is too cute for his own good.

⁜

⁜

⁜

“This…” he said, mouth stuffed with food, “This is really good!”

You smile, looking at the green-haired male scarfing down the food you made. You loved the little sparkle he had in his eyes whenever he truly enjoyed something - and to your luck, it was the food you prepared for him.

“You seriously made this by yourself?” He asked with his eyebrow raised.

“You don’t see your mom here, do you?”

“You sure you didn’t order in?” He teased again.

You kicked his leg under the table, causing him to wince in pain.

“Oh, how you wound me,” he said, faking tears.

“Serves you right for making fun of me,” you huff.

He got off of his chair and headed to the sink to wash his bowl.

“Well, to be fair,” you add, “I did video call your mom so she could teach me.”

“So I was right, then,” he said as he places his bowl in the sink and turning to face you.

“She didn’t make it, though!”

“You said you made it all by yourself, but you got my mother’s help. Hence, you lied to me,” he put his arms on the countertop.

“I didn’t lie to you,” you say, laughing, “I really made it by myself.”

Izuku was already standing in front of you, cupping your face in his hands.

“You kicked me,” he stared at you, “You kicked a tired hero.”

“Heroes don’t tease others as much as you do,” you retort.

“What is my purpose in your life but to tease you?”

“A lot of things actually,” you say, smiling at him.

“Oh? Like what?”

“First of all,” you put your hand on his chest, “Where did this flirty Izuku come from?”

“Maybe,” he put his thumb on your lower lip, “He came because I am using my birthday privileges to be a little more flirty than usual.”

You stare at his green orbs. They glimmered even under his own shadow. Its golden flecks shined just for you and you alone. The creases of his eyes curved upwards, showing you how happy he was just to be in your presence. The wild forest he calls his hair had rogue strands that tickled your cheeks. You loved how soft they were - especially after him just washing it roughly an hour ago.

Your hand on his chest began to outline the scars he cultivated through his years under All Might’s wing and his hero training back in UA. You smiled as you remembered how strong-willed he was as a boy to become a hero, and now he was - standing on the very top.

“You okay?” he asked, worried.

“I was just thinking of how much you’ve grown from back then,” you look up to his face, meeting his eyes that were staring straight at you.

“For someone who took so many notes back then, you’re really dumb,” you both chuckle.

“How are you still bullying me?” he sighed.

“Endure it, Deku,” you joke, imitating Bakugou.

You close your eyes as you pressed your forehead against his, enjoying the small moment you’re sharing with the male in front of you.

“Happy birthday, Izuku.”

“Thank you, love.”

You both shared a kiss, both bellies and hearts full.

#Illyaana | BNHA #Illyaana | Midoriya Izuku #Illyaana | Binaural #Illyaana | Fluff #angelwalker's virtues #izuku mha #izuku fluff #izuku midoriya #izuku midoria x reader #midoriya izuku #izuku mydoria #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha izuku #izuku x y/n #bnha izuku #midoriya #deku x you #bnha deku #deku midoriya #deku #deku x reader #mha deku #deku fluff #deku x y/n #izuku #happy birthday deku #bnha #mha #boku no hero fic

[skellebonez]

(kicks door down) INVERTED AU WITH PROMPT 72, SPECIFICALLY WITH MK

I’m not going to write out the ENTIRE TikTok so just. Watch an enjoy the madness that is B Dylan Hollis. It will make this fill so much more entertaining.

Don’t you dare.

Had it not been even a few weeks ago things would be almost completely on their normal “regular day with no special plans” schedule. Wake up, work, hang out with Pigsy and Tang, get Mei to have some fun, run off to Mount Huaguo for training with Sun Wukong, make sure the immortal Monkey King is taking care of himself, go home and sleep (a few gaps between each in case he needed to chuck a water bottle or granola bar at any of his friends and make sure they weren’t overworking themselves and if he came across anyone who needed his special brand of, as Macaque once called it, “aggressive self care affection”).

But no. Oh no. This was not a few weeks ago.

This was now, not even a month after the Lunar New Year Festival. Not even a month after he was finally introduced to the rest of Spider Queen’s family- plus one not so accidental addition who had decided it would be a fantastic idea to experiment on himself for funsies and “oops all spiders”.

Said addition stood, or rather half stood and half reclined on the mechnical legs protruding from his back, diligently typing away at his computer. The same computer he hadn’t stepped away from except to take a shower earlier in the day.

17 hours ago.

“Syntax,” MK said with the most gentle warning tone he could muster... which, to anyone unfamiliar with MK would sound like he spoke the human turned spider demon’s name like a threat. “Please tell me you have eaten more than a single calorie bar today.”

“I have eaten more than a single calorie bar today,” the scientist assured with a barely thrown over his shoulder smile in the younger man’s direction.

“Ok g-”

“I ate 2.”

The proud look on Syntax's face, as if he had figured out the loophole to end all loopholes, was a stark contrast to MK's expression of angry horror.

"You can't just eat TWO CALORIE BARS, Syntax!" He shouted, grabbing the scientist by his lab coat sleeve before starting to drag him out of the laboratory. If anyone was there to witness this they would find this feat impressive given how Syntax dug his mechanical legs into the floor in protest.

"I have survived on these so far and I will conti-"

"Survived, yeah, as a human," MK noted as he realized the other was simply allowing him to lead him along without a fight in the least. "But you're a spider demon... cyborg... guy now, you need more sustenance than that. And you needed more before!"

"3 bars?"

"NO MORE OF THE FUCKING BARS!"

The moment Syntax shrunk back in reaction to MK’s yelling the Monkie Kid took his chance and gripped the scientist’s sides and tossed the man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before breaking out into a sprint down the halls of Spider Queen’s lair.

“Don’t you dare!” Syntax yelped, attempting to free his arms or move his spider legs but gave up on the later and instead retracted them out of fear he might accidentally harm his captor. “I have work to finish, young man!”

“You can’t finish if you die of malnutrition, I’m teaching you how to cook!”

As they ran toward the entrance they passed Spider Queen who, upon realizing what was happening, gave them a calm wave and a smile.

“Make sure to have him back in time for you to get home before dark, MK!”

“EVEN MY QUEEN IS BETRAYING ME!”

~

Syntax eventually gave in. After all, despite his new enhancements he was still no match for the sheer strength of the Monkey King himself in the hands of a very determined young man with a hard line stance on self care.

And somehow this man decided he should be deposited in... his kitchen.

In front of a phone set up like... a camera.

Huh.

“Uh-”

“Hold that thought!” MK said, positioning Syntax just out of sight as he grabbed a cook book and hit record. “A bean PIE from the 1920s! Today we’re doing something different-” he reached over and grabbed Syntax’s arm, pulling him into frame without even a single change in his expression. “Today I have an assistant because SOMEONE doesn’t know how to EAT NUTRITION and needs more Vitamin B.”

As he let go of the scientist’s arm he turned to him, face as serious as a miscalculated formula when a project was due in 1 hour.

“OK, you’re the science dude. Let me tell you something from experience,” MK grabbed the cook book, holding it up. “Cooking IS science. And this science insists that BEANS can be made into a PIE which I think is bullshit and I am going to prove on camera. Until you learn how to eat things that aren’t instant bars, you are going to join me on my cooking science experiments. Understood?”

Truth me told, Syntax didn’t see the appeal in cooking. It was far too much hassle for something as basic as nutritional supplements you could acquire from far easier means that did not involve making a mess you had to clean up later... but...

The idea that cooking could be a science... that he had never considered before. And MK seemed to be pretty well convinced that he was correct in this assertion. This was part of why Syntax had, for a while now, considered reaching out to him with an offer of becoming his assistant. His tenacity and determination was something that was a great asset in the field of scientific discovery after all! And well...

If making a weird pie could get him into the young man’s good graces...

“Where do we start?”

~

MK held up a bowl of beans to the camera. “Now these took a long bath last night-” he turned to Syntax. “-I’ll splice in some footage from earlier here later-TIME TO COOK EM!”

~

“The pot,” Syntax noted, pointing to the pot on MK’s stove that had begun to over boil.

“AAGH!” MK yelped, sliding over from where he was grabbing his mixer. “BEAN REBELLION!”

~

“Eggie,” MK chuckled out, cracking an egg into the mixing bowl with the rest of the ingredients.

“How many eggs does it call for?” Syntax asked, trying to make sense out of the madness he was being witness to.

“How many? I don’t know, it just says EGGS.” MK gestured to the cookbook before them as if it has just insulted Pigsy himself to MK’s face.

~

“FORE!” MK yelled, closing his eyes and turning on the blender as Syntax held a frying pan in front of himself in preparation for disaster.

And disaster came... just not in the way either expected, as the blender sputtered and just.... stopped.

“... did you just kill my blender?” MK turned the knob on it, shaking it and tapping it gently. “HELLO?”

He shook it harder, twisting and turning the knob on the front wildly before he broke down into laughter. “THE BEANS KILLED MY BLENDER.” MK crossed his arms on the counter, laying his head down on them as he devolved into equally amused and annoyed cackles. “This has never happened before, how the hell!?”

“Well...” Syntax looked around, finding an induction blender sitting half buried on the opposite side of the counter. “Will this work?”

~

Finally. After waiting for the pie to bake. It was done.

A piece sat on a plate before both men, looking both intimidating and somehow delectable at the same time. But both were well away this concoction was primarily sugar, cinnamon, and BEANS. They looked at each other for a moment before nodding, each taking a fork full of the pit before shoving it into their mouths expecting the worst.

MK looked at Syntax as they chewed. Then the camera. Then he started to laugh through his bite as Syntax’s face went on a journey from “this tastes good” to “HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS TASTE GOOD”.

“Nothing makes sense anymore,” he moaned, gesturing to the pie slice before him as he began to laugh in disbelief.

“WHY ARE YOU GOOD?” Syntax asked, shaking his plate slightly. “You have a bag of BEANS in you!”

MK laughed harder, needing to put his plate on the counter as he needed to hold his sides from the pain of trying not to laugh louder than he was.

“This is like if tomato soup made a cake that tasted like chocolate!”

“I-It!” MK wheezed, holding up one hand to get the scientist’s attention. “It has!”

“I’M SORRY- WHAT!?”

~

“Yes? Oh, that’s fine dear! Yes, as long as he has somewhere to sleep and I know where he is- ... yes, we would love to try some when you escort him home tomorrow! Thank you, take care now,” Spider Queen said, smiling as she hung up the cell phone that Pigsy and Tang had no kindly helped her acquire.

“So, uh...” Huntsman asked, rubbing the back of his neck in concern and confusion. “What’s up?”

“Syntax will be spending the evening with MK!” She announced, smiling wide. “He’s taken up an interest in baking, apparently. Something about needing to unlock the secrets of tomato soup and beans.”

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #inverted au #prompt fill #mk #qi xiaotian #syntax #spider queen

[aliwritesfic]

The Night Shift part 5 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)

Quick summary: You learn the meaning behind Frankie's nickname

Warnings: None, I think, please let me know if I need to add some <3

W/C: 1.7k

Spotify (mainly just vibes, some songs have meaning, also updated regularly)

Part 1 Part 6

The smell of cooking bacon made your stomach growl as you entered the diner on Tuesday evening. You hadn’t eaten much all day, just a piece of toast and a handful of stale cheerios. Frankie was in the kitchen, his back to you. Your throat dried at the sight of him, remembering what you had done and how you had fantasized about him only a few hours earlier.

“Hi, Frankie,” you said, pushing thoughts of what you wanted him to do with his hands out of your mind. Stop being such a hornbag! You scolded yourself. Then he set those dark brown eyes on you and your brain ceased to function. Could he see your secret written on your face?

“Hey,” he said, smiling up at you. “You look tired.”

You almost sighed in relief. Maybe he couldn’t tell at all. You grabbed the coffee pot and poured yourself a cup. “I didn’t sleep much today. I was . . . worried about the kitten.” It wasn’t a whole lie; you really were worried about the kitten. The vet hadn’t sent you any updates, and you hoped that was a good thing.

“Are you gonna keep the kitten, if she lives?” Frankie flipped eggs as he spoke and set up a couple of plates.

“I can’t,” you grimaced, “Kurt would never go for it. He’s not really a fan of pets.”

Frankie made a face. “Not even adorable kittens?”

“Not even then,” you sighed. “It’s fine, though. It’s not like I have the time to properly care for one. I’m here most nights and I’m so busy with housework during the day when I’m not sleeping that it just- it just wouldn’t work.”

You kept your tone light, aware that customers could be listening. You didn’t want to scare off any tips with how miserable the subject made you. Frankie seemed to understand, because he didn’t bring the subject back up.

You were surprised at how easily you two worked together. Completely in sync when you had to be, entire sentences seemed to be translated through quick looks and raised eyebrows. This guy is a serial complainer. Want me to do something about those frat boys? Can you pretty please make me one of whatever this lady’s having?

All too soon it was 5:30 and the morning crew was there, breaking the comfortable silence between you. You found yourself lingering again, although you weren’t sure what for. You didn’t exactly need to stay. But still.

~*~

Frankie was shocked to see you still there. He was pulling his keys out of his jacket pocket when he saw you, standing outside, shivering in the early spring air.

“Thought’d you’d be halfway home by now,” he said, but he was still pleased to see you. He had come to the conclusion last night that you had a boyfriend, he would respect that and not make any untoward moves on you. Friendship suited him fine, even if he did think your boyfriend was a bit of a freak for not wanting a pet.

“I wanted to ask you something,” you said.

“Go ahead,” Frankie prompted.

“How’d you get the nickname Catfish?”

At this, Frankie’s lips twitched. He hadn’t been expecting that. “Before we were deployed, the boys and I went on a fishing trip. Well, one thing led to another and I had a huge catfish on my hook. This was a catch and release type of situation, you know?” When you nodded, he continued. “So, I reach in this creatures mouth to unhook it, and the bastard clamps down! Whole hand, in its mouth! And the thing about catfish, is they don’t have teeth, so they can’t technically bite, but they suck. It was like my hand was in a vacuum seal. When I eventually managed to get it out, no help from the boys mind you, it looked like a giant hickey on my hand. So, that’s where the nickname comes from.”

You snorted with laughter, and Frankie began to laugh too. At the time, it hadn’t been funny but looking back, he knew he would have been laughing his ass off if it happened to any of the other boys.

“I think Santi got a photo of it, I’ll try and find it for you if you want,” Frankie said. You nodded eagerly, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Please do, I’d love to see it,” you said with a grin that made his heart do something it really shouldn’t. Frankie nodded, making a mental note to call Santi and demand that the bastard rip apart his house to find it if he had to.

You turned to leave, and before he could stop himself, he was asking “do you want a ride?” Friends gave each other rides when they needed it, he reasoned. You hesitated, and Frankie kicked himself. Of course he’d overstepped. You didn’t know him that well, he was just the fry cook.

“Uh, yeah actually. It looks like it might rain.”

As if you had summoned it, thunder rumbled low overhead. Fat drops of rain began to fall slowly painting the ground. Frankie jangled his keys and you both sprinted to his truck. He opened your door for you, and ran around to his side. He didn’t miss that you sat with your back ridgid, your hands curled so tightly your knuckles were white.

“You okay?” he asked, although you obviously were not.

“Yeah, no, it’s just . . . You’re aware your truck looks like a death trap?”

Frankie snorted. He was very aware of this, but he was also very aware of what was under the hood. He trusted this truck more than any fancy modern car. Still. He decided that this was the perfect opportunity to mess with you. Just to see how you responded.

“Have you ever seen The Fast and The Furious?” He began, and you raised an eyebrow at him, your face skeptical. “Tokyo Drift, specifically. Well, this truck won me the title of Drift King several years in a row. That’s how well she runs.”

“Oh, fuck off!” You rolled your eyes, but you were laughing. “That’s not even slightly believable.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But how cool would it be if it were true.”

You rolled your eyes again, but you were smiling as you did it, and Frankie counted that as a victory. You gave him directions as he drove, surprising him with how close you lived to him. Only a five minute drive away. How long had you been this close? How had he never noticed you in the neighbourhood? Had he been blind, all these years?

“Thank you,” you said quietly as he pulled up outside your building, a three story walk up with a faded brick facade. The rain was coming down hard now, and lightning flashed.

“Anytime,” Frankie said in a tone that he truly meant any time. You nodded and ran through the rain, disappearing into the building. Frankie idled for a moment, wishing he could call you back and kiss you goodbye.

But he didn’t, because it wasn’t decent and it wasn’t what friends did. Friends didn’t crush on their friend like a fucking idiot kid.

So Frankie drove himself home and drove all thoughts of your mouth out of his head. That was until he checked his phone, and saw a text from an unknown number.

Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it :) sent 5:57AM

Frankie quickly saved your number in his phone, not taking the risk of losing it somehow. A second message from you buzzed through.

Oh and lunch on Sunday is at Taylor’s Bistro, on High Street if you still wanna come sent 6:01AM

Frankie wrote his message quickly.

Wouldn’t miss it x

He stared at it for too long, erased the x, replaced it with a smiley face and hit send before he could overthink it entirely. Then he remembered his promise to you, and called Santi almost instantly.

“Fish, what the fuck man? It’s four in the morning,” Santi groaned into the phone.

“It’s six you dope, but I need a favour,” Frankie said.

“Money?”

“No, man, nothing like that. Do you still have that photo of the catfish on my hand?”

“Yeah I’ve got a copy in my wallet.” Santi sounded more awake, and Frankie could hear his fancy espresso machine whir to life.

“Why do you- nevermind. Look, I need a copy ASAP.”

“What for? If it’s to destroy it just know I’ve thought ahead and I’ve got four physical copies and one in the Cloud.”

“No, nothing like that. It’s for a girl at work, she asked how I got my callsign and now I’ve gotta show her the photo.”

“Oh?” Santi sounded intrigued. “Who’s this girl?”

“A friend,” Frankie said a little forcefully. “She has a boyfriend.” As if that closed the matter. Apparently, it didn’t.

“Why should that stop you?” Santi asked. “You’re hot, I don’t know this chick but she’d be blind to not be into you.”

“Well, for one, my brain isn’t directly wired with my dick.” At this, Santiago scoffed. Frankie continued, ignoring him. “Secondly, she’s like, twenty five or six. She’s probably not into old guys.”

“You’re thirty-three, you’re not old. Also, chicks dig DILFs.”

“I don’t have a kid.”

“And yet you still have big DILF energy. I wonder if there are any little Francisco’s running around that we have yet to discover.”

“Shut the fuck up, man, it’s bad luck to say that kind of shit. Just get the photo to me, please.”

Santiago roared with laughter as Frankie hung up. Trust Santiago to work one of his deepest fears into conversation. Frankie wasn’t sure what he was more afraid of: having children, or having children and having no clue they existed. It wasn’t that he was against having kids altogether, it was just he knew he wasn’t in the right headspace to take care of someone who depended on him entirely. Some days he forgot to take care of himself, he didn’t want a kid to suffer. It wouldn’t be fair.

He brushed the thought aside as he climbed into bed. It was bad luck to linger on bad thoughts, at least, that’s what his abuela always told him whenever he complained about something as a kid.

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had told you that there was photographic evidence of a catfish latched onto his hand. Maybe he wanted to impress you? But no, he reasoned, there was nothing impressive about that. It was just plain embarrassing. He realised with a start that what he wanted was willing to do anything to hear your laugh again.

Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish

#the night shift #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier

[snelbz]

Light Up the Ice - Chapter 9

A/N: Well. It’s been a minute, hasn’t it? I’m sorry, guys, but this story just...wasn’t coming to me for a while. But now we’re back and I am so excited. Since it has been over a year and a half since I updated this one, please forgive us if there are a few details that aren’t perfect from the first chapters. Feels good to be writing my babies again.

Written with @tacmc.

Rowan woke up to the smell of cooking bacon and fresh coffee and he sighed contentedly. It had been two days since the hit that put him out of commission. He was hoping the rest and relaxation he’d enjoyed with his girlfriend would handle it, but it seemed that his body was protesting its natural healing process.

He groaned as he rolled out of Aelin’s bed, smiling when he found Lumi curled up in the hoodie he’d left in her chair in the corner. After giving her a scratch behind the ears, though the cat pretended he didn’t exist, he padded out into the living room, finding Aelin at the stove quietly humming to herself.

“Good morning,” he said, yawning as he pulled out a bar stool and sat down.

Aelin turned, and he was once agIn floored by how gorgeous she was, straight out of bed. That first night, when the fire alarms had pulled them all from sleep, he’d been convinced she’d scrambled to do her makeup before coming out onto the lawn. Waking up next to her two days in a row had proven to him that she was naturally beautiful and he couldn’t help but stare.

“Good morning,” she smiled and set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him. “Hurting today?”

“Aye,” he said, stretching his arms in the air. He felt every muscle tense in his upper body and before he could say the words, Aelin beat him to it.

“I think you need to give the team trainer a call today,” she said, placing a plate full of bacon on the counter next to her.

Rowan stared at it, wanting to reach over and snag a piece, but was fairly sure she’d catch him when he grunted in pain trying to lift it. Plus, she was dumping nearly a dozen eggs into a skillet to scramble, so he was hoping she’d be feeding him soon enough. He nodded. “I was going to do that today. I was texting with him last night and he said he and the massage therapist could come here today.”

Aelin smiled. “That would be perfect. I have to go

to work in about an hour, so I’ll feel better knowing someone is here with you.”

He rolled his eyes. “You do know I’m a grown man, right? Lived on my own for about seven years?”

Aelin stuck out her tongue and continued cooking at the stove, before setting a plate down in front of him piled high with eggs, hashbrowns and crispy bacon.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you?” He asked, as she slid onto the stool next to him.

She smirked and said, “Once or twice, but don’t worry. I’ve got a drunk voicemail to listen to if I ever forget.”

She winked and Rowan felt his cheeks heat, but regardless, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead and began to eat.

After his second full helping breakfast, Aelin got Rowan set up on the couch, babying him the entire time, much to his dismay, and he sent a text to the trainer asking him to call him when he got to the arena that morning. Aelin was getting ready and Rowan was playing NHL on his Xbox when the trainer finally called him back.

“Hey, man,” Rowan answered, pausing the game and propping the phone between his ear and shoulder.

Dorian’s voice came through the receiver. “How ya feeling?”

Rowan groaned as he rotated one of his shoulders. “Like I got hit by a truck.”

With a snort, Dorian chuckled. “Have you seen most of the Pirates’ team? They’re ridiculous; all of them are huge, freaks of nature. Rolfe is no exception.”

With a nod, Rowan cringed. He hadn’t realized the captain of the Skull’s Bay Pirates had been the one to lay the hit on him. “Well, whenever you and Sorscha have time, I’d appreciate it if you could make a house call.” There was silence on the other side of the line. “Dor?”

“Sorscha’s last day was Thursday of last week, I had no clue you didn’t know,” he explained. “The new therapist started yesterday.”

“Oh.” Sorscha had been the team’s massage therapist for years and Rowan vaguely remembered rumors that she’d be leaving them. He just never had them confirmed. “That’s fine, how’s the new guy?”

“She is...a piece of work,” Dorian admitted with a sigh. “You’ll meet her when we come by. You free for us to head that way?”

“Yeah, man, the sooner you get me back in working order, the sooner I can get back on the ice,” Rowan replied, debating on saying something about the home game they had that night.

With a chuckle, Dorian said, “Don’t even think about it, man. You’re not playing tonight. We’ll leave in just a bit and see you soon.”

The call ended and Rowan dropped his phone on the couch. He looked at the clock and hollered, “What time are you off tonight, Ace?”

She poked her head out of her bedroom and said, “Four o’clock, why?”

“Wanna go to the game with me?”

Aelin blinked at him. “You aren’t playing, Ro.”

“No,” he said, standing and stretching - and groaning. “But we can go sit in the player’s box and watch.”

“You want to sit next to me for an entire hockey game and hear my commentary?” She asked, grinning.

Rowan’s grin matched hers as he held out a hand, stepping towards her. She placed her hand in his and he gently pulled her towards him. “I promise I won’t be thinking too much about the game with you there with me.”

Aelin ran her palms down Rowan’s chest. “Well, that’s a tough argument.”

Rowan’s grin widened as he leaned down to kiss her. “You’ll go with me then?”

Aelin nibbled on her lip as she nodded. “If you get your ass on the couch and promise to take it easy today.”

He groaned softly. “Fine. If that’s what it takes.”

“Thank you,” she said, rising up on her toes to kiss him once more and turning back to finish getting ready. “You also have to make an appointment with your trainer.”

“He’s on his way with the sports therapist now,” Rowan said, watching her walk back to her room, enjoying every step she took. He really did try to focus on more than just her ass, but the leggings she wore weren’t helping his cause. When she looked back at him as she paused in the doorway, he had just enough time that she didn’t catch him - not that he thought she’d mind.

“Looks like we’ve got a game to go to then,” she winked, and disappeared into the bedroom.

About thirty minutes after Aelin left for the café, Rowan’s phone rang. “Hey, man. You here?”

His trainer and friend’s usually cheery voice was distinctly pissy. “Open up, Whitethorn. I’ve been knocking on your door for two minutes.”

“Oh, shit.” Rowan was up on his feet with a quiet grunt and ran to the door throwing it open. Dorian stood in front of his own apartment door, down the hall. He called, “Sorry, man, I’m staying with my girlfriend.”

Dorian’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re Aelin’s boyfriend?”

Rowan paused and blinked. “Uh, aye? You know her?”

“I grew up with her, we’ve been friends for years,” Dorian said, the light tone returning. “I told the therapist your apartment number and she’s grabbing her table from the car. I should probably call her-.”

“No, it’s fine, I need to grab a few things from my place anyways,” he shrugged, grabbing his keys off the small table by the door. “We can set up in there so I don’t have to move Aelin’s furniture around.”

Dorian snorted. “Good call.”

Rowan unlocked his apartment and let Dorian in, turning on the lights and carefully moving things out of the way. Painfully.

He grabbed one of his least destroyed game worn jerseys and tossed it over his shoulder. He very much wanted to see her wearing it. “Aelin’s coming to the game tonight,” he said, grinning.

Dorian shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

Rowan’s grin only widened.

“Hey, uh, can I come in and see Fleetfoot?” Dorian asked, looking out toward the hallway.

Rowan blinked and said, “I mean, sure.”

They headed back down the hall to Aelin’s apartment, leaving Rowan’s door open for the therapist to carry her gear in. As soon as they entered the apartment, Fleetfoot was bounding towards Dorian, excited like Rowan had never seen her.

Glancing up at Rowan while he rubbed her belly, Dorian grinned. “I gave her to Aelin our junior year of college. I promised if she got all A’s on her finals, I’d get her puppy. Guess who got straight A’s the entire semester?”

Rowan couldn’t help but laugh, smiling and shaking his head. “Sounds about right.”

Dorian’s phone chimed and he stood, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Oh she’s all set up and ready for you. Just head back down here when you’re done and we’ll talk about getting you on the ice again.”

“Aye, sounds good,” Rowan said and left, heading for his own apartment. The door was shut now, but he assumed it was just for privacy. He’d had to get sports massages before. They were basically a glorified regular massage. They focused on specific muscles groups, some quite intimate and quite awkward, but for the most part the etiquette was the same.

A dim room, quiet music or white noise of some sort, a special table covered in a white sheet, and the fact that you typically undress and are under just a towel.

Suddenly, Rowan froze with his hand halfway extended toward his doorknob, as he realized he was about to essentially be naked, alone in his apartment, with a woman he’d never met, as she rubbed her hands all over his body.

He’d had to get sports massages before. Just never while he’d had a girlfriend.

Maybe he should ask Dorian to come in and talk while she worked on him.

With a sigh, Rowan realized he was overthinking things. This was her job and he was judging her before he’d even met her. She was probably extremely professional and he was worrying for no reason.

With a shake of his head, he entered his apartment and asked, “Hello?”

A young woman rounded the corner, wiping her damp hands on a paper towel. Her long, black hair was braided back, and by the time her obsidian eyes met Rowan’s, he was frozen in place. For a moment, she didn’t react, and Rowan couldn’t breathe.

And then her eyes lit up and a small grin spread on her thin, red lips. His blood ran cold. He swallowed. “Maeve. What...the hell are you doing here?”

“Ah, Rowan Whitethorn,” she cooed. “We meet again.”

#snacmc #snelbz tacmc collab #light up the ice #Rowaelin hockey fic #LUI #snelbz lui #toab lui #Rowaelin #throne of glass

[pan-fangirl-345]

Sugarwhiskers

Summary: You’re one of the only green witch’s in town and you do well without a familiar, but when you bring in a large black cat that’s been following you around, that might change.

TW: Just some mild swearing, and a little bit of suggestive content (because parents), but as always, if I missed something please let me know!

A/N: I have a small obsession with witch AU’s and it’s very loosely based off of this post and a few ideas I had running around my own head.

The black cat that followed you everywhere was really getting on your nerves.

It wasn’t causing any problems exactly, but it was getting creepy.

It was outside your door when you left to go to the shop, it walked you to and from the shop, to school even. It followed you around town. It never caused you any trouble, but there was something about it that made you uncomfortable. 

There was some light in it’s eyes that seemed almost human. And it reminded you of someone, though you couldn’t place who when you looked directly at it.

“Hey there,” you murmured, crouching down in front of it as it appeared out of a shadow. “I’m (Y/F/N).”

It cocked it’s head to the side and padded a little closer to you, watching you. It was bigger than the average house cat. Small enough that you could still pick it up if you tried, but not small enough that you could carry it around for a while without your arms tiring.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” you told it, beckoning it closer. “Come here. Aren’t you cold?”

It crept a little closer and you smiled at it.

When you slowly reached your hand out to let it sniff you, you were pleased when he brushed against your hand.

“Hey there you,” you cooed, stroking it lightly. “Is it alright if I pick you up?”

It seemed to pause and tense but a few more strokes had it practically melted into your hands.

You plucked him- you had decided it was a him- up easily, settling him into your arms, still petting him softly. He was lighter than you had thought he would be.

“Come on in with me,” you murmured. 

It was Sunday, you didn’t have anything else better to be doing and you had started to like the cat, despite the uncanny glint in it’s eyes.

He purred as he relaxed in your arms, the small vibrations running up your arms.

“Are you lost? Is there someone looking for you?” you inquired, taking a seat at the dining room table, settling the cat in your lap softly. It’s fur was odd, tufting out and flopping over one eye like a bad middle school haircut.

The lack of an answer surprised you. Animals, as a green witch, had always been a specialty of yours, so not being able to understand this cat made you pause. You couldn’t feel it’s feelings like you could with other animals. You were an empath when it came to them, so having an animal that you couldn’t understand was a new one on you.

“Do you have a witch looking for you?” you asked.

It must’ve been a familiar if you couldn’t understand it the way you did the other animals around town.

He picked it’s head up and gave a small shake of it’s head.

Your heart broke for it. A familiar without a witch was almost worse than a witch without a familiar.

Familiar derived a sense of purpose from pleasing their witches, from helping them with the little things and the big things, from seeing their combined magic.

You hadn’t met your familiar yet, but you were sixteen, there was still plenty of time for them to show up.

“Well, you can stay here for as long as you want,” you told him. “I don’t have any other familiars or animals wandering around, so territory won’t be an issue, and you seem to be able to fend for yourself pretty well. I will leave out some things though, if you plan on sticking around.

“I do have some familiar friends though, they stop by from time to time, either on errands from their witches, or other tonics and such that I make for them. Don’t become too territorial if they stop by alright?”

The cat was staring at you, but it’s tail was flashing around and so you figured that was a good sign.

“I was about to make breakfast, do you want some?” you inquired, stroking it’s head lightly.

You headed for the kitchen, and the cat followed you, rubbing up against your legs as you opened the fridge.

“Alright, come on up here,” you muttered, picking him up and setting him on your shoulder, letting him curl around and settle on them.

His tail curled around towards your collarbone and you stroked under the cat’s chin, smiling when he purred.

“You’re going to be clingy, aren’t you?” you asked when you dug the eggs out of the fridge.

He headbutted you lightly and you chuckled, searching for the little glass bowl that you liked to use.

You cracked a couple of eggs and scrambled them, digging a pan out of the cupboards, turning the oven on as you poured the eggs in the pan.

“I really should be careful about this,” you muttered. “You could be a psycho waiting to murder me while I sleep.”

You were headbutted a little more forcefully this time, and you were given a slightly incredulous look and you shrugged a little.

“What? This is something that I have to worry about,” you defended, rummaging through a drawer to find a spatula.

The cat made a small noise, licking your cheek.

“Ew, no, no licking my face,” you told him, tapping his nose lightly.

You hummed a small tune as you cooked, stroking the cat absentmindedly as you worked.

When everything was done you grabbed a paper plate and set a piece of toast and half of the eggs on it, setting on on your work table so he could eat, bending slightly so he could hop off your shoulders.

You sat down beside him and ate as you worked, grinding herbs and calling small plants towards you, using your magic to lessen the amount under your skin.

You weren’t insanely powerful, but your magic was versatile, you could use it in other ways. Most witches had one specific ability and they trained with it that way.

Yours wasn’t like that. Convincing plants to grow, moving earth, communicating with animals, you could do it all.

A knock at your door made you snap back to reality.

When you opened the door you saw Akaashi standing there.

“Hey Akaashi,” you said, moving to let him in. “No Bokuto?”

“No, he was in the gym working on his line shots,” Akaashi replied.

“Sometimes I think you’re the familiar, not the witch,” you teased. “How are your headaches?”

“They come and go as Bokuto does,” Akaashi muttered, before he chuckled. “No, they’re getting better. Your tonics help when they get too bad though.”

“Well, I’m glad, that means that they’re doing their job. Ignore the cat, he’s new,” you said, shooing him off your work table so you could grab the bottles he had been laying half on top of.

“He looks like someone I know,” Akaashi muttered, holding his hand out.

The cat brushed up against his hand with a happy purr.

“I think it’s the fur,” he muttered, squinting at the cat.

“I know, I thought so too,” you replied, letting let cat climb onto your shoulder again where he settled.

“Is he your familiar?”

“I have no idea, I haven’t seen him in human form yet,” you replied, scratching under the cat’s chin. “I only took him in this morning.”

“Then why-?” Akaashi gestured to where the cat was lounging.

“He’s been following me around for a while. Walking me to school, walking with me around town. It’s been such a gentleman,” you said.

Akaashi was watching the cat, and then he glanced at you, some sort of recognition flashing through his eyes before it was gone.

“Thanks again, (Y/L/N), you’re a lifesaver,” he murmured.

“Of course,” you replied, handing him the vials. “I’ll see you in two weeks then?”

“Just like always,” he said, giving you a small smile before he headed back out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three weeks later and the cat was still pretty much living at your house.

He disappeared for short periods of time, but he usually came back at night.

He had taken to sleeping on your pillow at night, sometimes on your stomach, but every once in a while you woke up and saw him curled up by your chest when you slept on your side.

You still hadn’t seen him in his human form, but you knew he kept clothes in your house, you had found black t-shirts and bad chemistry joke hoodies in odd places around the house. 

They certainly weren’t yours, and you didn’t know anybody other than Bokuto with the build where they would fit.

Familiars had runes somewhere on their bodies, like a tattoo, and they helped witches find their familiars. Your runes were a band around your bicep, a black that faded into a ruby red, all of them shimmer like they were painted with glitter, and they were your favorite part of yourself.

You hadn’t seen the cat in it’s human form, so it’s runes were hidden from you. You weren’t sure why he hadn’t shifted in front of you yet. Maybe they were shy, or maybe they just didn’t want you to know who they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m gonna be late!” you cried, gathering up your school supplies and shoving them into your bag haphazardly.

The cat meowed loudly and you looked over to see him pushing a book towards you.

“Thank you sugarwhiskers,” you murmured, giving him a quick kiss on the head before you were out the door, trying to tame your hair, the cat on your heels.

You had been coming up with increasingly ridiculous names for the cat, since you had no idea what it’s name actually was.

You knew the cat went to school with you at Nekoma, and while you found that ironic, you had respected the cat’s privacy and not tried to find out who it was.

That changed when Akaashi invited you to watch a practice match between Fukurodani and Nekoma.

You were waiting outside the school when the bus pulled up.

“Hey Akaashi,” you said, giving him a quick hug.

“Hello (Y/L/N),” he murmured.

“You missed our appointment,” you pouted, hands on your hips.

“I know, I’m sorry, I haven’t had the spare time lately.”

“It’s alright, I know you have more going on than I do, so I took the liberty of bringing these with me today.”

You handed him three months worth of headache tonics and added, “Don’t worry about the payment, by the way, I know that you’re good for it.”

“Thank you,” he replied.

“Of course,” you told him. “Anyway, I know you guys have been here before, but I figured I’d escort you there, just in case. Hey Akaashi, did you try that spell I gave you the last time you visited?”

“I did, it works really well. Where did you find it?”

“My grandmother was a mind witch,” you admitted. “She wrote down everything in a journal and I got some of them when she died. That’s not my magic,” you made a flower out of a rock that you levitated over to yourself, “so I figured they would be more suited to you.”

“Thank you a lot though, it made separating things a lot easier for me,” Akaashi admitted.

“I’m glad, I tried accessing some of her magic, but I’m not the best at ancestral magic.”

“It’s alright, you’re better an earth magic anyway. You are a green witch,” Akaashi reminded you.

“I know, but sometimes it would be nice to have different magics, you know? Anyway, hello to you too Bokuto,” you said, letting the captain crush you in a hug.

“Hi (Y/L/N),” he replied, smiling at you.

You made small talk with the captain as they walked into the gym.

“Alright, well, I hope you guys do well,” you said, heading for the viewing platforms.

“Bye (Y/L/N)!” Bokuto called, making you laugh.

You had never really known the Nekoma team. You weren’t all that intrigued by volleyball, and other than Akaashi, you had no connection to it.

You knew that they were a pretty good team, but other than that, you didn’t know any of the players personally.

A few of the players pointed you out, but they didn’t seem to be focused on you specifically.

“Hey, Kuroo!” Bokuto shouted.

“Shut up!” someone else yelled back and your attention was drawn to the captain of the team.

Something about his hair was familiar, and you knew you had seen him in the halls, but even your magic was reacting now that you had seen him.

It sparked in your hands and you frowned as a moon lily bloomed in your hand.

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” Bokuto whined, his hair deflating a little bit.

“Don’t worry about him Bokuto, he’s just upset because he got a 94 on his Chem test because he pissed the teacher off,” you called.

You and Kuroo had Chemistry together, even though you didn’t sit together you knew Chemistry was one of Kuroo’s best subjects.

He had been complaining about his grade loudly in the hallway after school before one of the teachers threatened to send him to the principle.

“How do you know?” Akaashi asked.

“He couldn’t have been louder if he’d tried,” you answered, smiling slyly at the captain.

“Please don’t encourage him, (Y/L/N), he’ll take it as a challenge,” Akaashi muttered.

“Has your headache come back Akaashi?” you teased.

“If you keep saying things like that it might,” he muttered and you laughed.

“I thought you were supposed to be the polite one Akaashi,” Kuroo said.

“She’s the exception to the rule,” Akaashi said, but the small smile he gave you told you that he was teasing you back.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “If you don’t get back to warming up Akaashi, you and Kuroo are both going to get some permanent, nice little flower crowns,” you threatened.

“Can I have one too, (Y/L/N)?” Bokuto asked and you chuckled.

“Maybe after the game, Bo,” you told him.

He cheered and you laughed. He was so easy to please.

Akaashi mouthed a small ‘thank you’ and you nodded.

Kuroo was watching you whenever he had the chance and you weren’t entirely sure why.

You still had that odd feeling that you knew him more than you thought, but you weren’t sure why.

Not until halfway through the game when Kuroo used his sleeve to wipe his face during a break.

Black runes faded into ruby red decorated both biceps, and you felt your magic flare for a moment before you shoved it down before it could manifest physically.

Kuroo’s attention turned to you and his eyes widened.

You raised an eyebrow and sent a small tendril of invisible, questioning, magic to him.

If he was your familiar he should’ve been able to feel it, since he would be more sensitive to your magic than the other familiars on the court.

You watched in shock as he nodded and you stared at him for a moment before you smiled at him.

The bond clicked into place and you relaxed a little bit when a small blanket of warmth surrounded you.

You had heard about when a bond clicked between witch and familiar, but you hadn’t thought it would be so . . . comforting.

“You finally figured it out?” he asked.

“Jackass,” you replied. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? You pretty much live in my house now you know.”

“I was worried about how you would react.”

“We can talk about this later, your coach looks like he might yell at you.”

You laughed when someone waved their hand in front of Kuroo’s face and he jumped a little bit, clearly surprised.

You could feel his presence in your soul now, a little blip that hadn’t been there before.

The bond felt almost tangible between the two of you.

You understood why he was such a good receiver now. Some of his feline capabilities transferred into his human form.

You watched quietly from the second floor and yelled at Bokuto when he went into an emo mode.

“Who are you cheering for?” Kuroo asked when you cheered for Akaashi after he pulled off an amazing setter dump.

“My friend,” you told him. “I’ve known Akaashi a lot longer than I’ve known you, Kuroo.”

“And I want to know you better,” Kuroo said, smirking at you from where he was standing.

“I thought possessiveness was a canine trait,” you teased, and he chuckled a little bit.

“You’re distracting me,” he replied.

“Fine then,” you said, pulling back away from the tether between your minds.

When the game was over, you hadn’t paid attention to the score, you gave Bokuto his promised flower crown, and you headed straight for Kuroo.

“Jackass,” you muttered. “No wonder you followed me to school everyday.”

“Surprise?” he asked.

“Now, I don’t have a problem with you keeping your clothes in my house, but stop bringing the bad joke hoodies to my house. They’re comfortable, but they’re all really bad.”

“Hey, my taste is immaculate,” Kuroo replied.

“So you two finally figured it out?” Akaashi asked.

“No thanks to you,” you told him, crossing your arms. “You couldn’t have said something like, ‘Hey, (Y/L/N), I think that’s the Rooster Head from Nekoma that Bo never shuts up about. I think that’s your familiar’? What the hell Akaashi?”

“I knew you would figure it out. Eventually. And technically I did you a favor, I told you that you should watch us play.”

“That’s fair,” you admitted. “But seriously, it’s been almost two months.”

“If it makes you feel any better, he wouldn’t shut up about you,” Akaashi said.

“I feel ganged up on,” Kuroo muttered.

“Shut it, sugarwhiskers, you don’t get to play victim here,” you told him. “You could’ve shifted at any time and you chose to stay as a cat.”

“First of all,” Kuroo began, “your house is not big enough for the human versions of us. Secondly, you seemed to like the cat better. And most parents would freak out if they caught their child with a teenage boy that looks like me.”

“Wow, you have a high opinion of yourself, don’t you?” you asked, crossing your arms as everyone walked with Fukurodani boys out to their bus. “And the only reason I liked the cat better was because I didn’t know the human.”

“And now?”

“And now I think I like the cat better,” you teased, making him squawk indignantly. “I’m teasing.”

Kuroo smiled at you and you smiled back.

This was going to be fun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t sure when you stopped sleeping next to a cat and you started sleeping next to a man, but you weren’t opposed to it.

“Mornin’,” Kuroo muttered when he wandered into the kitchen.

“Hey,” you murmured, kissing his cheek when he draped himself across your back. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he told you, swaying you back and forth.

“Why do you always sleep with me?” you asked. “Wow that sounded bad. Let me rephrase that sentence. Why do you always sleep at my house? Aren’t your parents worried?”

“Nah, they know where I am, who I’m with. The only thing they said about it was, and I quote, ‘Just make sure to use protection, we don’t need a litter of grandbabies yet’, and I left it at that,” Kuroo said.

“Wow,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” Kuroo agreed.

You leaned back against him and sighed in contentment at the warmth he radiated.

“I love you,” he whispered, kissing your cheek.

“I love you too,” you told him. “Sugarwhiskers.”

He laughed and you smiled lazily at him. Six months really made a difference when you had your familiar.

Kuroo had boosted your magic energy, the shop was doing better than ever, you were getting more sleep, more hugs, and you were happier than you had ever been.

“Don’t start Kitten,” Kuroo warned you, his arms tightening around your waist.

You smiled at him, a smirk you had learned from him and said, “Or what?”

You couldn’t wait for his reaction. You liked the cat, but you loved the man so much more than that.

#tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #tetsuro kuroo x reader #fluff #witch au #witch!reader #familiar!kuroo #what is this?

[extremelyblackandwhite]

handmaid - 06

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)

A/N: i’m so happy you guys are enjoying this reader specifically. i have a soft spot for ingenues mostly because i was always type casted as the ingenue when i used to be in musicals and love to defend ingenues (mostly cosette bc everyone hates cosette FOR ZERO REASONS STOP HATING COSETTE).

 i was a bit afraid she would come out as very annoying (once again she is heavily inspired by cosette and christine and everyone hates cosette for, and i shall repeat again, no reason) but i’m rly glad everyone seems to enjoy this version if y/n. hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

White. That was the very first thing she saw, the pure white, unspotted celling of her bedroom as she woke up. The sunlight warmly caressed her skin, reminded her that she did not remember when or how she had fallen asleep. If she had purposely done so, she would’ve closed the curtains but the warmness of her face told her otherwise. 

Lazily, she raised her chest from the bed, sheets bunched up in one of her fists pressed against her chest. Y/N glanced over to the alarm clock on her nightstand, 5 AM, and then to her figure, she was still to get out of her undergarments and petit coat from last night. She guessed, she must’ve fallen asleep waiting for Gwen. As that came into her head, she rushed out of her bedroom, her feet padded over the dark floors until she reached her friend’s room, gently and slowly opening the door. Her worries subsided once she saw her friend sleeping on top of her duvet, dress and shoes still on. Well, at least she was home.

      - I’ve already checked on her. - Y/N slowly closed the door, her breathe getting stuck in her throat as she recognised Sebastian’s voice. In all honesty, she still did not know how to react around him, specially after last night. 

Nevertheless, she turned around, her body facing his despite the distance between the both of them. He was in much more casual wear, a far cry from the constantly pristine pressed suits he wore, wearing a loose white tee shirt with some grey sweatpants. Still, despite being dressed in approachable clothing, he still looked more intimidating than every man she had ever met. Who was she kidding? Even the loose tee and sweatpants were probably more expensive than everything she owned all together. 

Sebastian, on the other hand, felt his throat and mouth water up at the sight in front of him. The once very polished hairstyle had collapsed, probably during her sleep, and she was bare faced, rid of any makeup. However, it wasn’t that which sparked wild thoughts in his mind, it was what she was wearing. A white lacy bustier met by a voluminous white petticoat and a garter holding her stockings in place. She looked straight out of his wildest fantasies and he had to clear his throat before he could say anything else to her.

     - I can get the maid to prepare you some breakfast, if you wish. - he tried to look at anything but her body but god, did she looked like the most delightful thing he’d ever set his eyes on. - Anything you want. 

     - I think I’ll just sleep for a little longer. - she gave him her signature sweet and soft smile. He just nodded, afraid his voice would fail him as she passed by, her floral scent invading all his senses. She always smelled nice and he felt like a teenage boy admitting just how her scent alone drove him wild. Flowery, fresh, exactly what he expected someone of that level of naiveté to smell like. Innocent. 

As she disappeared from the hallway onto her bedroom to sleep until a regular hour, Sebastian bolted into his and from there straight into his own personal bathroom. Taking his clothes off, he stepped into the shower and turned the cold water on. He knew better not to think that way about her, specially her of all people who’d probably be by his future wife’s side for the rest of her life. Yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking of her plump lips, her polite sweet little smile and how the lace stood against her skin. Fuck. She was the most gorgeous little thing ever created.

The water rushed down his back, pooling at the porcelain floors of his shower while his hands were held up against the dark marbled walls. His lips were slightly parted as his mind took him back to her, her breasts caged by her bustier, her slightly parted plumped lips she would bite on whenever she felt any sort of embarrassment ... god did he want to bite that lip himself. At this point, half his mind was telling him to go for it while the other half was telling him he was going to hell for this, for thinking about such a precious thing is such a dirty manner. Hell didn’t scare him, he already had a first class ticket there so he might as well relish into the sins of the flesh. 

His hand lowered down from the wall down to his bulge, mind fixated on Y/N, on the memory of when he had first meet her. God, she looked even more stunning on her knees and he couldn’t help but imagine her plump lips around him, taking all of him with those innocent eyes starring up. 

He gripped his cock, taking a long initial stroke up and down and then a few more times. A loud groan escaped his lips as he pictured her on his bed, how pretty she would look moaning and squirming under him as she brought her to the best type of pleasure possible.

     - Fuck, Y/N ... - he moaned, thumb swiping over the red tip and threw his head back. He stroked himself a couple of times more in corkscrew like motions, groaning as he reached his release. - Fuck. 

He leaned his head against the wet marble walls, feeling the cold water rush down his back. Fucking hell, how was he gonna cope with her constantly padding around his house with an innocence of a Disney princess come to life. As he stepped out of the shower, he heard a knock on his door. It better not be fucking Gwen, he thought to himself. The last thing he needed was for Gwen to come over and annoy him with trivial questions. 

Sebastian pulled his underwear and sweatpants from the floor, putting them on before walking to the door of his bedroom, opening it to see a very concerned Y/N standing there. 

    - Are you alright? I heard you calling out for me? - god fucking damn it, he thought to himself. There she was standing worried about him and all he could think about was picking her up and throw her into his bed. - You have very thin walls. 

    - I think it might just be your lack of sleep playing tricks on you, angel. - Sebastian glanced at her face wondering if she had bought it, yet considering she was very tired and it was 5.30, she did. However, there was a hint of worry in her eyes. 

   - Are you sure? You look really red. - she raised her hand, moving it to touch his forehead which she would’ve done successfully had Sebastian not grabbed her wrist mid air. He knew that what he needed the least right now was for her to touch him. If she did, he would’ve probably need to jump back into the shower and stay there for a good hour. 

    - I’m alright, Y/N. Go back to bed and sleep. - Y/N wasn’t very convinced he was alright but decided to return to her bedroom nonetheless. She sat on the edge of her mattress, wondering if sleep was ever gonna come back. 

After a few minutes rolling around in her sheets, she came to the conclusion she couldn’t go back to sleep. Y/N got dressed in some leggings and a big hoodie, finally getting rid of the petticoat and the bustier that was starting to make her rather uncomfortable. Opening the door to her bedroom slightly, she peaked her head out, watching Sebastian walk into his office followed by a couple of men, already fully dressed up. She preferred him in his casual wear but by the sheer amount of men following him into his office, she guessed he was about to have a meeting. She sighed, grabbed her phone from the dresser by the door and went down the stairs to the kitchen where one of the maids, Amelia, was. 

   - Good morning, Miss Y/N. - the middle aged woman smiled at the handmaid, the first person she saw today. - What would you like for breakfast?

   - It’s okay, Amelia. I can do it myself, you don’t need to tire yourself. 

   - Miss Y/N, it is my job to take care of you and Miss Gwen. - she turned the kettle on before standing on the opposite side of the balcony. - I can cook you whatever you want.

   - I don’t wanna be a bother.

   - Miss Y/N, if you don’t ask me for food, then what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day? Mr. Stan doesn’t take kindly to people slacking off.

   - Could I get a poached egg on toast, then? - Y/N still didn’t feel comfortable asking for stuff. Technically and contractually speaking she was an employee like Amelia and the other bodyguards yet she still got treated like Gwen. Her mind kept screaming at her it wasn’t exactly fair. - But I do the dishes later, deal?

   - If you insist, Miss Y/N. - Amelia turned the toaster on, slicing two slices of sourdough bread and sticking them in the device before setting the water to boil in order to poach the egg. Y/N just stared, enjoying the low sounds of the kitchen appliances until screams started coming from Sebastian’s office which made her skip a breathe, not expecting the loud noise.

She could hear him scream at his men from his office in a language she had never heard. She wasn’t afraid of him screaming, the time to be scared of him was long gone and she would fear him more whenever she disobeyed him rather than when he screamed at his goons. Y/N was more than used to hear powerful men scream at their employees. She sipped on her tea, eyes moving from his office’s door at the top at the stairs to Amelia who was equally drinking the hot beverage, ignoring the noise. 

In the middle of all the noise, a very annoyed Gwen, still wearing her red gown, came down the stairs. Her eyes were still filled with sleep and laziness while the rest of her features showed a completely lack of ignorance towards the noise that probably woke her up.

   - Amelia, get me the greasiest plate of bacon you can manage and a cappuccino. - Gwen muttered, her head pounding at any amount of noise as she took a place next to Y/N. - This house fucking sucks. 

   - Maybe if you didn’t get drunk that wouldn’t have happened. - Y/N raised from her seat to help Amelia with Gwen’s breakfast order, turning the coffee machine on. The heiress just scoffed, leaning against the plush leather seats of the high chairs standing by the balcony. Who needed a mother’s reprimanding nature when Y/N was around? 

The handmaid placed a cup of coffee in front of Gwen who immediately downed half of it, along with some pain killers to take care of the impending headache caused by too much fine wine and champagne. Nevertheless, much to Gwen’s annoyance, the screams got louder as the door to the office opened and a bunch of very grown yet very scared men walked out still being screamed out by Sebastian who then closed the door with a bang. 

Gwen waved at the men as they entered the lift, her flirtatious nature still shining over the impending doom of her hangover. She was flirty and no matter how engaged she was, she was still gonna be herself and Y/N had to applaud her for that. 

  - I’m gonna take Sebastian some tea. Gwen, please make sure you take those and drink plenty of water, please. - she warned, silver tray in hand. 

Mr. Forrest always enjoyed a nice cold glass of whiskey after a blown out fight with his associates, however, Y/N thought that alcohol wasn’t something Sebastian should be having after last night. Despite him not showing any signs of a hangover, he still had downed a significant amount of champagne flutes while she was by his side and what he needed right now was some nice chamomile tea. 

Filled with courage that was slightly wavering, Y/N climbed the stairs up to his office, fist lightly knocking on the wood of the door. When no answer came, she knocked again but this time she got a very arrogant “What?” back.

  - Sebastian? - she opened the door up to a fringe, eyes roaming inside the office.

  - Y/N, what is it? - his tone seemed to soften as she walked into the room, closing the door behind with her foot. He had to say, he was rather disappointed she was no longer wearing the lacy undergarments. - Is that for me?

  - Yes. - she placed the silver tray on top of his desk. - I thought you would need something to calm you down.

  - The sentiment is sweet, angel, but I severely doubt tea is gonna calm me down. - he sighed and she furrowed her brows. No problem or worry was big enough that it couldn’t at least be temporarily forgotten with a nice warm cup of tea. 

  - Is everything alright? - she asked, concern on her voice. He bite the inside of his cheek lightly before replying to her questions, wondering if he really wanted to explain mob business to her. - Sebastian?

  - Just need to get some affairs in order. Take this as a lesson Y/N, if you want something done correctly do it yourself.

  - I’ve known that since kindergarten. Did they not teach you that? - he chuckled, not being used to hearing her joke around.

  - Please warn Genevieve that I’m going to Paris late this evening to get it sorted. Not that she cares very much about my whereabouts but just in case she wants to smuggle someone else into my home. 

  - You’re going to Paris? - her eyes lit up at the mention of the French capital. She had gone there once with Gwen but she mostly hanged around the resort flirting around with as many men as she could and, as per usual, Y/N had to follow her around to ensure she didn’t get kidnapped or taken advantage of. Not that it was easy to take advantage of Gwen, she just ... needed constant supervision to make sure she made the safest and soundest decision possible. 

   - Don’t get so excited, angel. It’s an highly overrated city filled with people that can’t do their job correctly. - even with the backhand comment, there was still a sparkle in her eye. - If you’d like, you can accompany me but I assure you it won’t be as fun as movies make it sound.

   - Oh no, I can’t ... - she played with her fingers, looking down at her shoes in disappointment. - Gwen is a bit ... sick from last night and I have to take care of her.

   - So? - he lifted an eyebrow at her statement. - Ask her to come too. I’m sure she won’t deny a free trip to Paris.

tag list: @sideeffectsofyou​ @lilya-petrichor​ @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea​

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan drabble #mob boss!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan #sebastian stan au #mob!au

[alyasgf]

Twin Chefs- Adrinette April Day 9 Baking Lessons

Previous || Next

Summary- Marinette teaching Adrien how to bake.

Excerpt-

Trying to lighten the mood, Adrien reached for the chocolate chips and opened them.

“Hey, do you wanna see a cool trick?” He asked with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

He then grabbed a chocolate chip and threw it in the air.

Notes- Day 9 of Adrinette April! Exam season is burning me out a bit so this one may not be as good but this is me pushing through

This can be read on it’s own or a part two to my fic “It’s the Thought That Counts?”

AO3

Begin—————

Marinette heard the bell above the door ring and immediately bolted through the door and into the bakery.

Again, it was just a customer.

“Honey if you’re going to run in here every time someone walks in maybe you should help out at the register.” Sabine said with a small laugh. “Of course it’s not like I wouldn’t let you know the minute Adrien walked in.”

“Sorry mom.” Marinette blushed. “He’s just supposed to show up any minute now so I’m a little jumpy.”

Marinette could hardly focus on anything all day. Adrien had texted her the previous night to ask if he could come over for a baking lesson and her parents were leaving for a date around the same time. Meaning it would just be them two. All alone. Together.

“Why don’t you busy yourself by going to see if your father is ready for our date?” She suggested.

Marinette groaned but did as she was told. Her dad followed her back down from the apartment to the bakery, and there she finally saw Adrien.

He sat with Sabine at the table eating a croissant. He laughed as Sabine had made a comment, and Marinette’s heart fluttered.

Then Adrien’s eyes caught hers and she froze.

“Hey Marinette!” He said brightly. “I’m really excited to learn how to make cookies with you today.”

He stood up and walked over to her and her father.

“Hi Mr. Dupain Cheng, its good to see you.”

He put his hand out to Tom and he shook it lightly. He turned to put his hand out to Marinette.

The thought of her hand touching his sent a wave of anxiety through her body.

“Well I guess you guys better get going!” She jumped towards her father and nudged him towards the door as her mother followed. “We’ll make sure everything’s cleaned before you get back, have fun, bye!” She closed the door behind them and leaned back on it with a sigh.

“So you ready Mari?” Adrien asked, leaning slightly to the side trying to get her attention.

“Right right yeah definitely!” She said a little too loudly and walked up the stairs toward the kitchen.

A little confused, Adrien stopped for a moment before shrugging and following behind her.

In the kitchen all the ingredients were laid out on the counter neatly.

“Okay so first you uh...” Marinette’s mind went blank. The easiest thing to bake and in the presence of this boy she completely forgot.

“Mari, are you ok?” Adrien asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

This made her immediately yelp and jump back.

“Yeah I’m fine, perfectly fine.” She replied walking over to the ingredients. “We need to put all the dry ingredients together first.”

Trying to lighten the mood, Adrien reached for the chocolate chips and opened them.

“Hey, do you wanna see a cool trick?” He asked with a mysterious gleam in his eyes.

He then grabbed a chocolate chip and through it in the air. He tried to catch it in his mouth, but instead he leaned too far back and fell right onto his behind.

The chocolate chip fell right beside him.

There was a beat of silence before it was broken by Marinette’s uncontrollable laughter. Adrien blushed while still on the floor, but he was happy to have broken the ice.

Marinette put her hands on the counter in an attempt to steady herself, tears in her eyes. Once she calmed down she turned to the blonde boy.

“Sorry for laughing.” She said, eyes still light and noticing how red Adrien was. She put her hand out to help him up.

“Let’s see you do it then.” He took her hand and gave a challenging smirk.

Marinette promptly threw a chocolate chip in the air and caught it effortlessly. Looks like Ladybug’s hand eye coordination finally rubbed off on her.

“Y’know Adrien” Marinette began, “We do have an extra bag of chocolate chips. Want a challenge? Whoever loses has to clean up the most mess.”

“Deal.” Adrien responded. He grabbed the bag and walked into the bakery. “I take it we’ll come back to the baking later?”

“Shouldn’t take too long to beat you.” She said smiling and following behind him.

———————————

It took almost 20 minutes, and due to some unfortunate distraction, Marinette lost by one.

On the last round as they were tied up, Marinette couldn’t help but notice how free and happy he looked. Then as he counted down from three, Marinette got distracted by his lips.

“No fair it was only one point!” She groaned.

“Nope rules are rules.” He smirked. “I’ll warn you now, I’m a very messy cook.”

“If the brownies you gave me are anything to go by, I’d say you aren’t any kind of cook.”

“Hey! That’s what I’m here for. Besides you said they were fine.” He protested.

“You were making a puppy face what was I supposed to say?” She said with a poorly hidden blush. “C’mon we’re here to bake!”

She then promptly stood up and rushed into the kitchen. Adrien followed.

“Come open the flour I think I forgot to take out the sugar, I’ll be right back.” She left the room to look in the back for the sugar.

She was just reaching for it when she heard a very familiar ripping noise and a yelp.

“Adrien? What just happened?” She asked, dreading the answer.

“Uh... would you believe me if I said nothing?”

Marinette grabbed the sugar and walked swiftly into the other room. Just as she thought, the worst had occurred.

There was flour everywhere. Adrien had pulled the sides of the bag too hard while opening it, and it had ripped straight down the middle. There in the center of the chaos was a flour covered Adrien Agreste.

“Oops?” Adrien smiled at her sheepishly.

She sighed and returned the smile.

“Just because I lost doesn’t mean you have to make the mess I have to clean even bigger y’know.”

She turned and grabbed a rag for Adrien.

“We didn’t even get an apron on you!” She laughed and handed him the rag. “There’s not much of a point to give you one now is there?”

“No, but maybe you should’ve gotten yourself one.” Adrien said mischievously. Before Marinette could realize what he said, he laid a flour covered hand on her shoulder.

She gasped. “Adrien! You’ve already wasted our ingredients and now your ruining my clothes!”

“We have to be in the same boat! There’s no hard feelings.” He cupped some of the loose powder in his hand and blew it into her unamused face. “There, even.”

——————————-

After they managed to acquire more flour, the rest of the baking went off without a hitch. For the most part.

Adrien managed to drop an egg, Marinette forgot to put the stand mixer on a low setting when Adrien absent mindedly touched her hand with his own, and about a third of the cookie dough was eaten before it made it into the oven.

“I just can’t believe you’ve never had raw cookie dough before!”

“I hardly ever have cookies the moment just never came up.”

Marinette was now cleaning the flour, oil and other ingredienttts off the counters and floors. Adrien sat criss crossed on a stool not too far. She might’ve complained about the lack fo help if he didn’t look so adorable. Sitting like that with a handful of cookie dough in his hand, he looked so carefree and childlike.

Still she couldn’t help but tease. “You too good for cleaning Agreste?”

“Last I checked I didn’t lose a challenge Dupain Cheng.” He laughed with a bit of dough in his mouth.

“Well you can help by collecting the dishes into the sink while I put away the ingredients.” She said finishing cleaning up the last of the counters. Adrien’s clothes were still covered in flour and Marinette still had some in her hair and on her face.

“Wait, I want to do something first.” Adrien hopped off the stool, finishing up the last of the dough. He walked over and pulled out his phone. “Picture?”

Marinette nodded and he put his arm around her shoulders. She shivered.

“Say cheese!”

Marinette snuck a quick glance at the boy before smiling. He had a soft look in his eyes and a genuine smile. Nothing like the magazine spreads, that’s for sure.

—————————

After they finished cleaning, Marinette took the cookies out to cool.

“How long do we have to sit here waiting for them?” Adrien asked impatiently while staring at them intently, as if watching them would allow time to pass by faster.

“Just 5 more minutes I think you’ll live.” Marinette giggled. “Tell you what, once they’re done we can grab some milk, head upstairs, and play Ultimate Mecha Strike.”

His eyes lit up yet again with that childlike excitement.

Just then her parents walked in.

Adrien and Marinette turned to see Tom and Sabine with surprised looks on their faces.

“Marinette did you spill flour on your guest?” Sabine asked concerned.

————————

After explaining everything to her parents, Marinette grabbed the cookies and pulled Adrien along to escape with her. They picked up some milk and the apartment and climbed the ladder to her room.

“What time are you supposed to leave?” Marinette asked, pulling herself into her room and taking the milk and cookies from Adrien so he could do the same.

“In about 30 minutes, so we’d better make good use of our time. Specifically by eating those cookies. If the dough is anything to go by, these are going to taste amazing.”

“Well next time you come we can make some macaroons.” She suggested, hoping there’d be a next time.

“Sounds good. Now lets hurry io and eat these, the anticipation is killing me.”

They both laughed and picked up a cookie. They took large bites before sighing.

“So much better than the brownies.” Marinette said with a mouth full of cookie.

“I’d be offended, but I tried them too so I’ll definitely agree. My baking doesn’t even hold a candle to yours.” Adrien took a gulp of milk to wash down the cookie.

“Hey we made this together.” Marinette nudged his shoulder. “This is our baking Adrien, and I think it tastes amazing.”

For the next half hour Marinette kicked Adrien’s butt at Ultimate Mecha Strike as they stuffed themselves with cookies and milk.

When his driver finally arrived, Marinette walked him down.

“Here.” She said while handing him a tupperware. “Think of it as me returning the favor.”

Adrien opened it and was met with the sweet aroma of the cookies.

“Thank you Marinette! Today was amazing I’m glad you invited me. I can’t wait until we make the Macaroons!” He gave her a tight hug before climbing into his car with a wave.

“I can’t either.” Marinette whispered to herself in a lovesick daze.

@adrinetteapril

#ml marinette #miraculous adrien #miraculous lb #mlb marinette #miraculous marinette #adrien and marinette #adrien x marinette #mlb #miraculous ladybug #ladybug and chat noir #tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #cat noir #adrinette april #adrienette fic #adrienette #adrinette fanfic #marinette dupain cheng #marinette cheng #adrien #adrien agreste

[treeni]

Count Down for What?

Day 2 of Soulmate September

Prinxiety

Wordcount: 4918

TW: Swearing, it wouldn’t be a darkside pov from me without it. Anxiety attack. Heights?

Summary: Virgil hates waiting, can’t stand it really. He can’t even deal with a timer counting down in a video game, much less to one counting down to one of the biggest changes in his life... meeting his soulmate.

Archive Link

Tumblr Masterpost

taglist: @tsshipmonth2020

“Wake up Virgey!” a cheery voice called, ripping away the blanket he was snuggling into.

Bitch.

Virgil kept the thought to himself as he glared up at a freckled face with too wide of a grin for this early in the morning. Patton was his best friend in the world, but no one should be alive at this time in the morning, much less that cheery. He burrowed further into his pillow and pulled his knees up to his chest to conserve the warmth that had been stolen from him.

“Oh come onnnnn, time to get up! You have a big day Virgey! You’re never gonna meet your soulmate just lying there!” Patton exclaimed, grabbing hold of Virgil’s tucked wrists as he started to lean backwards, pulling him away from his comfort source.

“That’s kinda the point Pat,” Virgil grumbled and shook him off, but conceded to the fact that he would not be returning to his bed. If he tried Patton would start pulling out the big stops, like the time he poured a glass of ice water on him after he tried to sleep his way through his own unsurprising surprise party.

“Come on! Lo’s already got coffee on in the other room!” Patton exclaimed, linking their hands and leading Virgil out of the bedroom with a flourish.

Virgil let out a lengthy groan to make it abundantly clear how he felt about the situation that didn’t stop even as he entered the kitchen. Logan just rolled his eyes at Virgil and Patton’s entrance and wordlessly handed Virgil a cup of coffee, effectively getting him to finally shut up. Virgil sipped at his sweet, sweet lifeblood and tried not to make a face as Patton pecked Logan on the lips as he slipped past to make breakfast. Patton and Logan were in roommates, sure, but there was something too pragmatic about their relationship. It reminded him a little of his parents. Then again, he supposed that was just what happened when you find your soulmate at the age of six. Patton and Logan had been inseparable long before Virgil ever knew them. They were so connected at the hip that the only reason Patton and Virgil ever became friends at all was because Logan was an overachiever who both double majored and double minored in university, which suddenly left Patton with an immense amount of time by himself that he had never had before. Logan insisted he try to make friends to fill in some of the gaps so he wouldn’t feel so alone.

Cue a soft boy looking around the university courtyard with big lost eyes as he turned from group to group, looking for a place for himself. Then there was Virgil, barely paying attention as he scrolled tumblr on his phone between classes. Still, something about the dejected look behind big round glasses had Virgil moving from his favorite spot in the courtyard’s tree to jump down. He landed next to the boy who in turn let out a shriek as Virgil dusted off his jeans and straightened his hoodie.

“Hey,” Virgil remembered muttering so many years ago. “Let’s get some coffee.”

“O-Okay,” was the only response he had gotten back at the time as the lost boy followed him without another word.

It turned out that Patton didn’t even drink coffee. Still, they had been best friends ever since.

Why couldn’t that have been his life changing moment? He would have more then happily been platonic soulmates with his pattycake. He still put his foot down and swore that Logan and he had their timers somehow switched because the sweetheart was definitely his soulmate and he refused to hear otherwise. Logan always let out an annoyed huff when he argued it, but the stretched smile on Patton’s face always made it worth it for him to risk Logan’s ire.

“Virgil, this is supposed to be a good thing!” Patton insisted, taking Virgil’s hand in his own and squeezing it compassionately. “You’re going to meet someone wonderful! Someone who’ll change your life forever!”

“That’s what I’m afraid of!” Virgil insisted and pulled his hand away and cradled it close to his chest as if burned.

Patton and Logan shared a look as Virgil curled his limbs in on himself. His touch aversion only made an appearance when he was really becoming anxious. He heard some clanging in the kitchen for a moment before a large glass of ice water was set in front of him and his coffee was pushed away. Logan squatted in front of him, with a hand on the kitchen table to get to reach similar eye levels.

“Breathe Virgil. It is alright. Being nervous is completely normal,” Logan murmured in soothing tones as Patton watched helplessly from the side. Logan was always better at diffusing Virgil’s panic attacks. “Do you need me to run through the exercises with you?”

Virgil thought for a moment and shook his head no. Still, he accepted the glass of ice water Logan pushed in his direction and took a large sip. The cold helped shock his brain out of the spiral.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil groaned, his head in his hands. He wasn’t really. He was still panicking, but it was more controlled now. Still, the splitting headache rising to his temples wasn’t helping anything.

“May I retrieve anything for you?” Logan asked as Patton finally braved reaching over and rubbing Virgil’s shoulder sympathetically. They both seemed pleased when Virgil didn’t immediately shrug off the touch, even if Logan frowned when he shook his head with a definite ‘no.’

Sometimes it felt like they were practicing on him for when they eventually adopted a kid to complete their white picket fence familial unit. The weirdos.

Then again, it was nice when Patton baked him cookies. Even Logan checking in about his sleeping habits wasn’t so bad really. They’d really make great parents someday to some lucky as fuck kids.

Patton and Logan shot him worried looks as he suddenly went stiff and Patton pulled his hand away before Virgil bolted.

Oh god.

Was he in the way?

Was that why they were so insistent on him finding his soulmate? So he’d leave? Did they want him to leave so they could get their all-American dream and adopt their 2.5 kids?

“Hey, hey, hey Viregy-” Patton started in a whisper, his hand hovering just inches away ready to give comfort in a moments notice. “What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?”

“Not so many questions at once Patton,” Logan chided. “Virgil, what’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

Virgil swallowed and looked up, still able to see Logan’s blue eyes despite his glasses reflecting Virgil’s own pathetic expression. He choked out a breath and was able to mutter out, “Cherry Garcia.”

“What movie did we watch last night?”

“...Stardust... You picked it.”

Logan nodded. “As a compromise that you and Patton would both enjoy. What day is it?”

Virgil deadpanned. “I barely know what day it is when I’m in a normal state of mind.”

Logan smirked and patted his shoulder before pushing the ice water back his way. “I see you’re feeling better.”

Virgil accepted the water and took another long drink.

Bitch.

He was just so done with the day already and he hadn’t even had breakfast.

From there it seemed that Logan and Patton had collectively decided the best thing was to give him some space as the two took their places at the counter to work through cooking their meal together. Some days Virgil would help, but he was certain if he tried today Patton would shoo him away. He wasn’t really in the state of mind for it anyway and was happy to stay just where he was and stare at the slowly dwindling clock counting down on his wrist.

Just a few hours now.

Breakfast was a short affair. Eggs and sausage were placed in front of him as the loving couple took their usual seats next to one another at the other side of the table. He was sure it was all delicious, but he had to convince himself it didn’t all taste like cardboard as his mind continued to reel. Everything was going to change today.

Everything was going to change.

He wasn’t ready.

“Maybe I should go to work,” Virgil said as he picked up his plate from the table and took it to the sink. The least he could do as a good roommate was to take care of the dishes. “Remy’s always complaining we don’t have enough staff as it is.”

“Did you not specifically put in for vacation today?” Logan asked with a raised brow.

“Yeah, but-”

“Oh! Do you think Virgil already knows his soulmate? Could it be a coworker?” Patton asked and practically had stars in his eyes at the question.

“While the familiarity might help Virgil with the shock. All of the documented cases I’ve seen show them not previously knowing each other before at least the day the timers are set for. However, there’s still so much that’s unknown about the phenomena that it is difficult to say anything for certain.”

Virgil chewed his bottom lip as he took Patton and Logan’s dishes too. Anything to keep his hands busy.

“Maybe I’ll go into town...” he muttered to himself.

“Oh! I can see it now, you bump into your soulmate, the two of you drop all of your bags and your clocks reach zero just as you both touch hands while reaching for the same thing!”

“You know Pat, I think I’ve read that fanfiction. One of yours?” Virgil asked with a snort.

“It will be now,” Patton said, sticking his tongue out at Virgil from the other side of the kitchen island.

Virgil just mimicked him before throwing some of the soap suds at his cheeky friend.

“You’re both pretty,” Logan deadpanned with a huff at their antics before standing and wrapping his arms around Patton’s middle.

Logan nuzzled his nose just under Patton’s ear and Virgil watched his best friend simply melt under the ministrations.

“I am certain that whatever Virgil decides to do, everything will work out,” Logan said gently and kissed Patton’s forehead. “After all, he knows he will always have us, correct?”

Virgil squirmed when he realized Logan had gazed directly his way when asking that last question.

Fucking mind reader.

“Always!” Patton declared cheerily in agreement, seemingly unaware of Logan and Virgil’s silent conversation.  

The rest of the morning went by fast after that. Virgil tried his best not to draw his hoodie sleeve because every glance at the countdown timer on his wrist only reignited his anxiousness. Patton eventually had to rush off for work, but pushed a packed lunch into Virgil’s hands on the way out before kissing Logan goodbye.

Yep. Absolute parents.

Virgil stuck it on the table by the door and paced their apartment a few more times.

If he moved out, they’d have an extra bedroom available for a kid.

His stomach turned as he tried to push that thought out of his mind. Logan said they wanted him here.

Logan didn’t lie.

He sighed and eventually let himself collapse against the couch. He was already exhausted and he hadn’t even left the apartment yet. A few minutes later Logan saw fit to join him, book in hand and the two sat quietly with only the occasional sound of turning pages filling the silence. Virgil could not stop himself from staring down at his wrist, even through his hoodie. He’d catch himself staring, rip his gaze away and zone out with his gaze aimed in the general direction of the wall, only for the process to repeat again.

“You know, the timer will continue regardless of how long you stare at it.”

Virgil gave Logan what he was sure was a pained look before finally giving in to pulling the sleeve back as they both inspected the decreasing numbers.

Just over four hours now.

“I’m just... I’m not ready Lo,” he said holding up his wrist showing the timer that would not stop. “This will change everything and I just... I just can’t.”

“It does not have to,” Logan said, setting the book aside. “Think of it simply as an opportunity for change. You do not have to accept it. Maybe you meet someone, maybe you do not, you may even find it is someone you cannot abide at this point in your life. You can always leave the situation. Call me if you need an escort if things go sour and please keep me updated on where you go. This is always your home first and foremost, regardless of what happens. If you cannot fit any person you meet into the life you want to live, then simply turn around and come back home. Nothing has to change.”

Virgil stared at square framed glasses stupefied. That wasn’t something he was expecting to hear.

“However-” Logan started, as his expression took on an unusual wistfulness. “I cannot imagine what life would be like without Patton in it. A life devoid of joy I am certain is most likely. Patton reminds me how to live rather than simply exist. You should know better than most though what I mean when I say so. He brings laughter and love in a way that makes me proud to be his partner each and everyday.”

Virgil felt like he was sucker punched in the chest. Logan never spoke like that.

“He says I bring him joy too, though I cannot imagine how. Still... Patton just wants you to have that same sort of happiness Virgil.”

“I...” Virgil started. “I am happy.”

Logan just smiled and squeezed his shoulder as he stood up. “Just remember. This is an opportunity, not a contract. You always reserve the right to say no and I can promise you that you will always have a place here. I will push no further however, whatever you decide to do Patton and I will support you.”

“Where am I even supposed to go?” Virgil huffed out to Logan’s retreating figure. “How will I know I’m even going to the right place?”

“There is no wrong answer. Supposedly, wherever you decide will be the right place,” Logan answered, pausing at the doorway.

“Then what difference does it make if I stay here?”

“Does this feel like where you are supposed to be?”

Virgil just stared at him. No. No it didn’t. He gave a final groan and forced himself off the couch before stomping toward the front door and taking his bagged lunch with him.

Fucking bitch.

He wanted to kick something.

He ended up at the park and his already fragile mood was immediately soured as he passed by a group of musicians in large overly ornate hats as one with a particularly stupid looking mustache blew a sour note from a horn directly into his ear. He flipped him off and continued on the path, putting as much distance between him and the noisemakers as possible.

Virgil let himself fall into old habits as he hopped and grabbed hold of a tree branch before he even realized what he was doing, climbing until he was situated comfortably with his legs stretched out on a sturdy branch and his back  leaning against the trunk. Soulmates could suck it, he was gonna people watch today. Plus, if he was truly doomed to have to deal with an extra person in his life, he might as well take survey of them before having to actually meet them.

From here he could see a few couples. Definitely not. A few joggers and dog walkers who were hurrying down the path. Not the kind of people who would be around in the two hours he still had remaining. There was an older woman feeding the pigeons because some cliches existed for a reason it seemed. God he fucking hoped not. He’d almost take the mariachi bastard instead. Maybe.

Virgil let himself just exist for a little while, almost in a daze, but not quite snoozing as time passed around him. How was this soulmate thing supposed to work anyway? It’s not like he had some kinda of confirmation telling him he had the right person. Maybe the whole thing was some conspiracy, pairing people together artificially as to force them into some kind of submission. Like, how was he supposed to confirm that he even was with the right person when the clock stopped? Or what if they passed near each other and never truly met? Supposedly these timers were just supposed to magically stop at the exact moment two people who were just supposed to accept living the rest of their lives together would meet? Sounds fake.

Virgil’s attention was taken as he heard a rustling sound somewhere beneath him and found someone arranging a picnic basket. Oh god, what kind of dweeb goes to the park looking like they stepped straight out of a fairy tale book? He did a double-take though. Something about him looked... oddly familiar? He wasn’t sure how though. He could see some basically-prince-charming kneeling on a classic plaid red blanket and arranging a... surprisingly impressive set up. There were covered hotplates with something that smelled savory and absolutely delicious. Some kind of cake was in a clear plastic container. There was a pile of seemingly random snacks. He recognized the packages of a few, crackers, chocolates, granola bars, even a couple boxes of raisins of all things. Two matching sets cutlery with cloth napkins underneath the silverware. A three pronged candlestick was placed between the plates with rose petals scattered around at random and- Oh shit, was that wine? Was that even allowed at the public park?

Virgil wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he sure wasn’t gonna rat the guy out. The dude obviously put in a lot of effort for his date. That was the kinda guy who deserved a soulmate, not Virgil. Virgil was still in his ratty hoodie and rattier converse as he was waiting to meet them for the first time. A plan? Ha, in this economy? He was lucky he even remembered his wallet. He couldn’t imagine being the kind of person to arrange intricate dates like the picnic prince down below. In fact, Virgil was a little uncomfortable being so near. He couldn’t imagine that the happy couple would stay very happy if they found their private date was basically permanently photo-bombed by a guy chillin in the tree above them.

Virgil tried to shimmy his way across the branches, so he could try and jump down and land on the other side of the tree so he didn’t have to deal with the strange conversation of falling in the middle of someone’ picnic setup. What he didn’t count on however, was a branch catching on the pocket of his hoodie and effectively stopping him from making the trek to the next branch. In fact, being jerked back from crossing threw off his momentum enough that he couldn’t seem to right himself. He tried to regain his balance on another branch, but it cracked underneath his feet and suddenly he was falling.

Into waiting arms.

What the hell?

Virgil found himself staring straight up into the face of picnic guy. God the wannabe prince was even prettier up close.  He had big amber eyes, a heart shaped face, high cheekbones, and a pointy chin. He truly looked as if he belonged in the clothes he wore.

“Are you alright?” The man voiced, but it was almost more rumble than true sound and Virgil wasn’t sure he could breathe.

“Um... uh...mhmm,” he squeaked out lamely, barely able to get even that much out as he found himself freezing in place.

Not that it was a bad place to be....

Virgil shook the thought out of his head. The guy was clearly preparing a date. He probably already had a soulmate and Virgil had someone he was waiting to meet soon.

Soon.

Too soon.

Oh god.

He couldn’t... he couldn’t... he couldn’t what?

He couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t breathe.

Fuck!

All thoughts seemed to be immediately wiped from his brain suddenly as the only thing he could focus on was the sound of his rapidly beating heart pounding in his ears. He couldn’t, he couldn’t, he couldn’t he couldn’t hecouldn’thecouldn’tcouldn’tcouldn’tcan’tcan’tcan’t-

“Shhhh... sh, sh, shhhh. It’s okay... everything is okay. You are safe. Whatever this is, whatever is scaring you so, I will protect you. You don’t have to be scared of anything. I promise. It’s okay. Yeah? How about we just breathe together for a little while okay? Can you do that?”

Virgil swallowed and managed to nod after wiping some tears away with the sleeve of his hoodie. He wasn’t really... okay yet, but he managed to wrangle back up some thoughts from their banishment. Mainly that he was making a fool of himself, but anything was better than the sheer, terrifying nothingness of shutdown.

“Do you have a name?” the (now also clearly deserving of the prince attire he wore) guy asked while setting him down gently at the base of the tree.

“Vir... um Virgil.”

“I’m Roman,” the prince said kindly and gave a reassuring squeeze to his bicep. It reminded him a little of Patton actually. “Would you like some sparkling cider Virgil?”

Roman held up the bottle that Virgil had previously thought to be wine, but he could see from his position it was alcohol-free. At least no random park rangers would try to arrest the guy. He deserved better than that, Virgil decided.

“Or I have some bottles of water-”

“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Virgil exclaimed, scrambling to his feet.

“What? What is it, what’s wrong?!” Roman exclaimed, immediately taking a somewhat defensive position in front of him, like he was protecting him.

“I ruined your date! I should... I should go. I’m sorry I uh... god I am terrible at this. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Wait please!” Roman exclaimed, grabbing the cuff of his hoodie. The damn thing was going to be the death of him. Virgil swore he was gonna finally buy a new one when he made it home. “You don’t have to go.”

“But... your date,” Virgil said, gesturing lamely to the beautiful setup Roman had spent so long on.

Roman let go and pulled his arms in uncomfortably. “I uh... I don’t even know if they’re coming or not to tell you the truth.”

“Wait, you did all of this and didn’t even know if they’re coming? That’s so...”

“Stupid, I uh... I know,” Roman said, looking down at his feet.

“I was gonna say brave,” Virgil said and gave a reassuring smile when Roman’s gaze jumped back up to his. At least he wasn’t the only one uncomfortable today.

“Th-thank you,” Roman said, his voice contorting slightly. He sounded choked up. Virgil almost reached out to give him some kinda comfort, but stopped himself.

That would be weird right?

He didn’t like... know the guy.

Right.

“Would you... um would you please join me for a bit while I wait?” Roman asked, his fingers fumbling with the hem of his tunic.

“On one condition,” Virgil said.

“Anything,” Roman immediately breathed and Virgil could practically see the hope in his eyes, but he couldn’t fathom for the life of him why it was there.

“You gotta tell me the story behind the prince gear.”

Roman’s cheeks immediately flushed a bright red. “Oh... um... well...”

Virgil let himself plop to one side of the picnic blanket and Roman gracefully slid down to mirror his position, surprisingly still stammering.

“-you see uh... I’m an actor and I just came from um...playing...”

“Prince charming?” Virgil asked with a smirk.

Roman nodded shyly. “In Cinderella. I’m usually much better at this... at least on stage I am.”

“At what?”

“At... well... talking?” He said it as if it was a question. “And uh-” It was Roman’s turn to gesture lamely, both to the set up and to himself. Virgil could basically grasp the gist of what he was trying to say at least.

“I think you’re doing great,” Virgil said with a grin. This guy was absolutely precious. He was almost jealous of the prince’s oncoming date. If they didn’t show he’d sweep him away himself. Fuck the soulmate.

“I really appreciate that Virgil,” Roman said with a sincerity in his eyes that let Virgil half in love already.

Bad Virgil, bad. He has a date. You have a soulmate. Focus.

“Anytime,” Virgil muttered, and took a swig of the cider, almost wishing it were the wine he probably shouldn’t have in a public park.

Roman smiled and Virgil was trying to convince himself he wasn’t completely destroyed by that crooked grin. He looked... relieved by Virgil’s answer, certainly more comfortable. From there, the conversation seemed to flow rather easily. Roman spoke of the dinner theater he worked at, making decent pay, but he didn’t plan to be there forever. He spoke of his dreams, on the stage, on the big screen and Virgil could only nod along and admit it makes sense that someone as pretty as him would be in movies. Roman shut down for a minute at that particular comment, but only grew more enthusiastic. Virgil learned he had a brother who had several books out and that Roman wanted to catch up in prestigiousness . They were apparently twins after all and Roman refused to fall behind.

Virgil spoke of himself too. He told him about Patton and Logan, the perfect soulmates who had found each other so young. A couple truly destined to spend a lifetime together. He spoke of his friendship and how he came to be acquainted with the literal embodiments of suburbia. He talked about his job at the radio and even running his own show on the off times on nights and weekends. He told him that he would usually be there for a show at the moment, but his coworker was covering for him today. Roman spit out his drink, but looked immediately embarrassed for doing so.

“Sorry sorry! It’s just... you’re... you’re that Virgil?”

“You’ve tuned in I take it?”

“Only every night! What other station plays Disney music at two in the morning?!” Roman exclaimed and grasped Virgil’s hands in his excitement, but them seemed to remember himself and curbed it back, releasing his catch.

No... Virgil thought grumpily. I liked the excited boy. Bring him back.

“I uh... I like to listen to your show when I’m working on my own projects at home,” Roman admitted, twiddling with the hem again.

“Well, then I’m glad. If I can bring someone inspiration, then maybe I’ll just never move the show,” Virgil said only half joking. Being on in the morning was considered prime time and they always got the best commercial deals, but... but if he had a fan like this.... Well, he didn’t want to disappoint.

“You know Virgil... I almost didn’t come out here today. My brother kinda pushed me into it. He and his partner are formidable as a pair.”

“I can absolutely relate with that. Still, it’s a pity that your date’s been a no show. All of that hard work you and even your bro put into it...they don’t deserve you.”

“I uh... I don’t know about that.” Roman said, staring with that same hopeful expression and Virgil was ready to throw hands with whoever hurt this man by leaving him here alone.

“You think they’ll still show?”

“I uh... I was thinking... hoping that they were already here,” Roman admitted and pulled down his sleeve to a timer that was rapidly approaching zero. “I was hoping it was you.”

I was hoping it was you.

I was hoping it was you.

I was hoping it was you.

The words echoed through Virgil’s brain rapidly as he tried to process the meaning... the ulterior motive. He couldn’t find any. He pulled back his own sleeve. 5...4...3...2...1....

Oh.

A small beep sounded in his own head, it almost acted like an auditory arrow pointing, no pushing him in Roman’s direction. Suddenly they were close. Suddenly they were inches apart. Suddenly hands were on his hips and all he could see were beautiful amber eyes.

Suddenly lips were on his.

Just as he let out the first hints of a moan from the feeling of Roman’s lips, oh lord his soft lips, they were interrupted and rapidly pulled away from each other at the sound of a microphone adjusting.

“THIS ONE GOES OUT TO THE HAPPY COUPLE ON THE PICNIC BLANKET! NEWLY FOUND SOULMATES!”

How the fuck?!-

All of the residents of the park cheered and clapped while looking in their direction. Confetti came from... somewhere? Loud music started playing and only a few feet from them and Virgil was absolutely shooketh seeing the band he passed when he first came into the park

“I... I didn’t hire them I swear!” Roman exclaimed, throwing his hands up in bewilderment and confusion.

Virgil didn’t doubt it.

“That guy in the mariachi band over there that kinda looks like you wouldn’t happen to be your brother would it?”

“Ugh, god dammit Remus!” Roman said the name with more venom than the swear and pinched the bridge of his nose.

#sanders sides #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #ts logan #ts patton #background #logicality #mentioned #demus #romantic #soulmates #tsshipmonth2020

[votederpycausemufins]

helleborusangel where hath your ramblings gone. your ramblings my beloved. Sorry for the late chapter today, had a dip in motivation and then tech issues, but it’s longer than last one so hopefully that makes up for it. also pinging @petrichormeraki like always.

(also slightly warning, uh... how do i say this? it’s not explicit or really sexual so... horniness warning? idk. it’s near the end)

They had done their best to help Grum out, but when they turned him back on, he still was out of it. At the very least, Fundy had been glad to see that a face that matched Jrum’s, but blue, replaced the smiley face. Well, that wasn’t all true. Sometimes it flickered back, but that was better than staying looking like Dream’s mask.

Speaking of the admin, he had sent a message to Fundy, leaving the fox looking around, trying to learn where Dream had been hiding, because he obviously saw or heard what had been going on. Fundy reluctantly said goodbye to the bots, leaving them alone with each other.

Jrum was happy to hug onto his brother. “I’m glad you’re doing better!”

Grum nodded before looking at the top of Jrum’s head. “May I have your shears? I assume you still have them with you.”

“Yeah! Sure!” Jrum pulled his favorite shears out and handed them to his brother. His smile turned to confusion as he was pushed down slightly to make him crouch. He could hear the shears being used, and then a sudden sharp pain before it disappeared. “Ow! Be careful!”

“Did I manage to cut your antenna as well?”

“Yeah! It hurt!”

“I apologize, but something was tied around it.” Grum replied, letting Jrum stand up again before holding out a small red vine.

“Oh! One of those pretty plants! It must have gotten up there when I was exploring that cave.” Jrum took the vine and looked it over. “I think I can still pot it with the other sprouts I have.”

“You… have more?”

“Yep!” Jrum replied before going over to a furnace and throwing his clay in to cook. “It kinda looks like nether plants, but at the same time not? It’s slightly more redstony colored!”

“I suppose that is why you would be a fan of it.”

Jrum paused. What did Grum mean by that? It… It almost sounded like an insult. “What?”

“Redstone isn’t very useful.”

“Not that- What are you talking about?! We’re made of redstone and it’s Daddy’s job to work with it! It’s very useful!”

“”It takes too much time and it’s easy to break. Besides, what are you going to do? Make a secret door with it? People can still break through it.”

Jrum frowned. “Don’t say that!”

“It’s true, isn’t it?”

“No it’s not! Shut up! Or I could just make it so you can’t charge yourself!”

“Fine, live in an unfinished house by yourself. I’m sure you’ll be so safe with your diamonds. It’s not like anyone will want those for themselves.”

“I… They won’t be able to take them. I kept them when we respawned unlike most of my stuff. So even if they kill me, they can’t get them!”

“And so what? You’ll just keep them there? I thought you only had five slots in that chest of yours. What happens when you have something more important, or they’re out and you’re using them.” Grum asked, noticing how one of Jrum’s hands moved slightly. “Or are you fine losing that stupid toy of yours?”

“Don’t say that!” Jrum yelled and shoved his brother over. “It’s not stupid! Dad gave it to me and that makes it important!”

“If its connection to him is so important, he’s the one important. But let’s see, he’s not here. We’ve been here days and he hasn’t shown up. At this point, he probably won’t. And you know why?” Jrum refused to answer or guess, so Grum continued. “Because he doesn’t love us. He’s perfectly fine abandoning us. We’re not even the first one he’s done this too. He. Does. Not. Care.”

Jrum started tearing up before running off crying. Grum didn’t go after his brother and instead went back to work on the house, leaving Jrum on his own again. The younger robot was planning to go back to Puffy, but on the way there, he changed his mind. He changed his path and eventually ended up in the cave again. He nearly tripped over a large vine on the floor, but it was almost like it moved slightly so he didn’t. 

The robot went a bit deeper into the cave than he had when he first found it, following the vines on the ground until he reached the mass that the plants were coming from, the red, egg shaped plant towering over Jrum’s small size. It ever so slightly reminded Jrum of the heart of his daddy’s base. That thing was a sort of living machine as well, and he kept forgetting to feed it. He barely cared about it. And now that he and Grum were gone as far as their dads were concerned, it honestly made sense they wouldn’t come looking.

Jrum sat down next to the egg thing and curled up. He looked around and made sure no one was around before pulling out his special diamond block and hugging it. “I wanna go home…” and then he slowly went into sleep mode.

As Grum worked on building, he shut off a number of his functions, the most prominent one being his emotions. He had hurt his brother, but it was necessary. Something was wrong, and he didn’t know what. He didn’t want to hurt his brother, but he did so it couldn’t be worse. For all he knew, he could suddenly start attacking his brother. Even if this did lead to them on opposites sides of conflict, it would be for the better.

Grum paused in his building to check his battery. It was high, but not that close to full charge, which was odd. It currently felt like he was tired and needed to move to a reduced power mode, but also like he was fully charged and slightly buzzy with the energy.

Blacklist check. Attempting Entry: JoeHills. Assigned roles: Hermittown member, Acknowledged associate family, Operator, Higher Being of Unknown Origin. Banned roles: Hermittown member. Acknowledged associate family. Continue blacklist.

Blacklist check activated. Increase displacement by 2%. Displacing. Displacement complete. Displacement at 41.5% total.

Grum shook his head after realizing he was zoning out. Maybe he should go into sleep mode. The second floor was almost complete at this point. Once it was done, the place just needed to be decorated. The robot hopped down to the ground off the partially built roof, ignoring the damage he took, then went inside. He put the blocks away in a nearby chest, making sure it was organized and hopefully wouldn’t lead to a chest monster. Once everything was stored, Grum hopped onto his bed and started to shift to sleep mode.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in sleep mode exactly, but Grum knew it wasn’t long when something woke him up. Specifically from someone coming inside the house. “What, back so soon? Let me guess, you’re low on charge again.”

“I don't really have that.” A voice that wasn’t Jrum’s spoke up and Grum sat up to see Dream.

“I apologize. My brother and I got into a fight.” The robot said, flopping back down

There was a short moment of silence and Grum could imagine the admin shrugging. “It’s fine. Not many people get along all the time here.” Part of Grum wanted to doubt this guy. There was always something off about him, but at the same time… “I see your place is almost done.”

“Yes it is.”

Grum could imagine a nod. “It’s impressive. You only started two days ago and it’s already almost done even at this size.”

Two days ago? That didn’t sound right. He had started… today? But then how had he…? : ) No, that’s right, two days ago. “Can I ask why you’re visiting?”

“Well, you and your brother showing up is pretty interesting. And even though we have people of all kinds here, no one’s a robot.”

“Well now my brother and I are here and we are.” Grum replied, finally sitting back up, knowing the conversation wasn’t ending anytime soon.

“Yeah. Makes me wonder how much we can figure out from you two. Like there’s one thing I figured out which is pretty interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“Hmm… you know I think it’s actually two.”

Grum rolled his eyes. “Yes, and those would be?”

“The first is you can’t remember the last few minutes before you crashed.” Dream said, leaning in the doorway as if what he said was something simple like ‘I saw a cloud’ or ‘it’s almost night time’. It stunned Grum and made him take a moment in processing it. He had trouble remembering before crashes? How did the admin know that? Had he seen it happen? I mean, he would have-

“The second is for some reason you tend to crash when that one person Fundy knows gets mentioned. I think his name is… Iskall?”

For a moment, Grum could almost hear the grin of the admin, before everything went magenta, then black.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in sleep mode exactly, but Grum didn’t think it had been that long when something woke him back up. Specifically from someone coming inside the house. “What, back so soon? Let me guess, you’re low on charge again.”

“Uh, yeah he is.” An unfamiliar voice spoke.

Jrum was slightly jostled from sleep mode when something moved him. He wanted to get up and move to see what it was, but the 12% battery he had left didn’t really give him much cause to try. Instead he just shifted slightly to tell whatever was disturbing him that he had woken up.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not planning to hurt you.” A voice spoke, and they sounded really nice, so Jrum was pretty sure they were telling the truth. “You look a little tired. I don’t have a bed with me, but maybe some food will help?”

Jrum half comprehended the apple that was moved into his vision. He knew it was red and that it was supposed to feed him, so he weakly grabbed it and smacked it against his monitor screen. When he wasn’t able to eat it, Jrum whined, and a moment later the apple was taken back. “I guess no food then. Let’s find you a bed instead. My place is right nearby, so we can use that!”

“B-b-battery.” Jrum stuttered out, clinging to the fabric of whatever this person was wearing. His power conservation was making it hard to talk, but he was trying his best. “N-need ch-charge.”

“Argh! And it’s not a thunderstorm. What are we supposed to do instead?”

“H-house. Ch-charger.”

“Okay, where’s that?”

Jrum didn’t try answering verbally and just sort of tilted his head so the screen could be seen, displaying coordinates on it. He heard the person repeat it a few times before he darkened the screen again to conserve power.

He could feel the slight bounce from being in the person’s arms as they walked, and while at first it was a little jarring to him, it slowly felt more and more like it was being rocked. He kept expecting feathers to gently brush against him as his dad held him, but it didn’t come. He just fell back asleep.

His brother yelling at him unfortunately woke him back up and Jrum was clinging to his dad again. Grum was scolded, and Jrum realized it wasn’t his dad. He could feel himself being set on a bed and some fumbling around. “Where do I plug this thing in?” Jrum held out his hand and was given the charger cord before plugging it into his port, glad to be charging now that he was all the way down to 4%. 

“You should really build yourself one.”

Jrum didn’t respond, just charging, but the person replied for him. “Can’t you share? I mean you both live here.”

“I’d rather we not. He’ll just taint it with redstone everywhere or those little plants of his.”

That was enough for Jrum to respond. “Uggggh! Shut up and let me charge!”

“You’re the one in my house.”

“It’s our house!”

“Our house? I’m the one who built it. You didn’t even make that whole charger yourself, you got my help as well as Sam’s.”

“Well I need the charger just as much as you!” Jrum yelled, sitting up, and immediately regretting doing that as it felt like his head was spinning. “Stop being so selfish!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!”

“Hey! Language! And don’t talk to your brother like that!” The person said. Jrum was glad they said something, because Jrum just started crying again. Tommy… he cursed a lot. Doc also did plenty. Ren wasn’t quite as bad, but often you could catch him catching himself. Jrum had heard Xisuma throw a few curses out here and there, and even though his dads tried their best, because he was around them so much, Jrum had heard them curse. But this was different. 

He had never heard- okay that wasn’t true. Grum had cursed a few small times, but usually it was something small and when he was more upset at a mistake he made. But this? Grum yelling at him? That had never happened before. Plus, sure Grum tended to be the slightly more mature of them, trying to talk properly and ended up seeming much more robotic, but Jrum knew his brother could be playful and kind too. But recently he had seemed so cold and upset. It was like Jrum didn’t even know his brother.

As Jrum was hugged by the person who had been helping him, neither of them knew what was going on in Grum’s mind as he came to the same thought. It was if he didn’t even know himself.

“Oi! Stop being such a fucking bitch!” Tommy yelled as he flinched away from another piece of TNT Grifter had placed and Tommy had almost run into. “I still don’t know if I’ll fucking respawn!”

“I said you will!” Grifter said, holding back evil giggles.

Tommy grumbled before taking another stick from his inventory and chucking it at the explosive material after walking a few more blocks. The moment the stick touched it, the TNT exploded, leaving a hole behind. 

“I still don’t understand why the fuck we’re here and not back in Helscraft. I thought you wanted to see your boyfriend.”

“He's not my boyfriend, he’s my husband.” Grifter corrected. “And I said there’s something we need to pick up first.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, but continued to follow the hels avian since he didn’t want to get stranded here. “So, you’re also an avian like Grian.”

“Yes I am.” Grifter responded along with a flutter of his wings. “And?”

“Well it’s prettt fucking obvious Grian’s a parrot. I know my Phil’s a crow. The Phil here looked basically the same, but if it’s something else maybe a raven? I heard they have really similar wings. But what are yours?”

“Magpie. And yeah, dad’s a raven.”

“Cool, cool.” Tommy nodded, trying to think of something else to ask. “Uh, what exactly are we after?”

“Aww, don’t you want it to be a surprise?”

“Fuck no. For all I know it’s some trap to try and kill me.”

“I would never!” Grifter said sarcastically. “It’s just something I’m sure Sense wants to see just as much as me. I put them here just before getting trapped and made sure you couldn’t get them again without going to the right coordinations.”

“And how much further do we still need to go?”

“Not much. I could have been there ages ago if I wasn’t dragging you along.”

“You’re the one who kept putting down TNT!”

Grifter responded to that comment by placing down another piece of the explosive, Tommy running into it this time and it lighting, the teen desperately running away before it actually exploded.

“You bird bitch!”

“Oh shut up, we’re here.”

Tommy looked around and saw nothing. “And what’s here?”

Grifter didn’t answer, just smiled as the ground shifted and part of it started to rise from the ground, slowly shifting into an elongated spiral. Tommy watched as the material shifted into bedrock and then magic emanated from it with green particles. Grifter went over and reached a hand in, then a second, and the. He put his whole head in as he continued to look for whatever was on the other side of… Tommy was pretty sure it was a portal.

“THEY’RE AWAKE!” Grifter shouted at the top of his lungs when he pulled his head out again, scaring Tommy and making him fall over in panic.

“Man, what the fuck, don’t do shit like that!”

Grifter didn’t answer, just went back into the portal, this going through time all the way up to his hips. He was short enough his legs were just left flailing around as he tried to reach something on the other end. An arm started to come back and Tommy was surprised it was dragging something along. “What the fuck. Is that Jrumbot?!”

Grifter came back dragging along what looked to be Grumbot. “Oh? They exist in your world? That helps explain it. But no, these are Sefter and… did we ever give the second one a name?”

“You and your version of Mumbo built these?”

“No, not really.”

“Then did you find them somewhere or some shit.”

Tommy regretted asking when Grifter looked at him with a smirk. “You see, when two people love each other a lot, they end up taking all their clothes off and-”

“Don’t you fucking continue with that! And how do you even make something like that when you two are not that?! Wait, never mind. My brother had a fox with a fish.”

“Huh, not adopted then? Good to know. But yeah, I’m sure you’ve heard the parrots and the bats before. And these two came out of one very wonderful night-” “I said don’t talk about it!” “-though they didn’t seem right and so we tried checking them out, but nothing. Then I sort of got a bounty on my head and I hid them away here!”

“So you just had versions of Grum and Jrum before they were built?!”

“Uh, I suppose so. It’s a shame they had to build them and not-“

“Can you please fucking stop and just get us to Helscraft.”

“Of course! I’m sure the kids will love to see their papa.”

“I would ask another question, but I think I know the answer.”

“I can tell you’re right.” Grifter smirked before taking them to Helscraft. “Oh Evil X! Guess who’s back in town!” There was no answer and he pouted. “Hello? Where’s the fun of showing up if no one is here to freak out?”

“Uh, going to see the person you came to visit? Tommy suggested. 

“Well yeah, but I don’t know where he is while you do.” Grifter crossed his arms before looking up at the sky. A few moments later, the reddish purplish hue of the shy shifted into the same color of an ender pearl, maybe a bit brighter. “There, that should let people know I’m here. Now where’s Sense?”

“Uh… we go through the portal on the main island, follow a path with blue clouds until we get to NPG’s place. We pick up something to let us breathe, and then you go right.”

“You go… right? Like is that east? West? North or south?”

Tommy shrugged. “Dunno. It’s just right.”

“Alright fine, just show me where we’re going before everyone shows up to try and trap me again. Come on boys!” Grifter called to the two robots who had been running around who quickly came back over to him. “And maybe on the way I can think of a name for you.” Grifter booped where a nose would be on the hels version of Jrum.

As Tommy guided them, Grifter spent the time brainstorming ideas for names while ignoring all the mobs that were trying to kill them. Tommy did his best to fight off the monsters, but he still didn’t have much gear, still only having what was salvaged from the one room in the prison.

“So obviously my other side and I had the same idea with names, so something based on that, but I’m not sure what would fit there. Do I just use a d as well for defter?”

Tommy shot another of the living cloud things out of the sky, wishing the thing had infinity since he was down to seven arrows. “It was actually a J, but I guess it does sound like Drum instead of Jrum sometimes.”

“Hmm, you’re right, I can sort of hear a difference. Now, I could also do something else… Where did the J come from again?”

“It was from the word junior I think.” Tommy said before needing to dodge an attack, nearly being hit by a second in the process. “You think you want to help out at all?!”

“They’re aggroed on you, not us, so it’s fine. Hmm, maybe something that’s a synonym?”

“Well if I die to these things, then they’ll be after you!”

“Ugh, fine.” Grifter rolled his eyes and summoned some gear for Tommy. “Put on the armor and use that instead of a bow. It works better and is less affected by gravity.”

Tommy took the armor and put it on before looking at the tube he had been given along with a bunch of darts. He tried firing a few of them, but he just kept missing. “I’d prefer arrows over these things!” Tommy shouted back, making the Listener get closer and use some magic on the bow, giving it infinity.

“There? Happy? Now maybe Befter for Brother? Brefter? Hmm, younger Yefter? No, that sounds stupid. I could try another name mix? But already used Sefter and while Pergrift sounds nice, that’s supposed to be our name. Maybe Grifter then Sense? Grise? Grense? Or maybe use Perfect instead and get Grifect. Oh yes! Grifect! Sefter and his little brother Grifect! Oh it’s just right!”

“Great! Now that you figured it out can you please just fucking help out and shit?!”

Grifter rolled his eyes, but did start to help, but he also gave the two helsbots some weapons to see what they could do. Grifect did okay, but Sefter seemed to take to it like a fish to water. Tommy thought it was even a little scary how well the kid was doing. But at the very least it kept them safe while traveling and they were able to move faster, arriving at NPG’s base before too long. 

Grifter refused to take a single step into the place, claiming NPG was his mortal enemy or something, so Tommy was the one to go inside and find what they needed. Rifling through chests, Tommy found some wood called skyroot, and used that to make a chest and sign, dumping the stuff from the prison into it. He then put a sign on the front of the chest for NPG for whenever he got back. ‘Theseus replace me. needed gear. Srry about grifte. Tommy’.

It was a little hard to get the message out while fitting it on the sign, but Tommy hoped it would be enough. He then went over to the nearby armor stands and took armor from the stand that had a set of purple armor as well as an elytra. Based on what Tommy had seen people wearing the short time he had been there, he was pretty sure the pink armor was the equivalent to netherite here, but diamond equivalent would do fine and he didn’t want to steal good armor.

After that he went looking for tools and weapons and food. He grabbed a sword, pick, axe and the masks he came in here for in the first place. During his search, he also grabbed what seemed to be a special crossbow, some more arrows, fireworks, blocks for making bridges, and some food. Finally, just to be completely safe, not knowing how long he would be stuck with all this gear, Tommy also grabbed a wooden bucket filled with water in case of MLG jumps, and a shulker box that he emptied out into other nearby chests.

Out of all the things he was glad to grab, Tommy didn’t expect the water bucket to come in handy so soon, but when he left the base, he was greeted with Grifter putting TNT down to blow the place up. The teen rushed to each of the explosives and covered them with water before detonating them, which left Grifter upset, but at the very least he didn’t seem to try it again.

“Okay, now time to go find Sense.” Tommy spoke up, getting Grifter to stop being as angry as before. He led them on the same path NPG had taken them on the initial visit, eventually leading them to the bridge of purple clouds. Tommy showed the hels avian what he was supposed to do, but instead he just picked up one of the kids and flew them over before grabbing the other and doing the same, leaving Tommy wondering why he hadn’t just used his elytra.

From there, they walked further ahead until they saw a small house. The moment Tommy pointed at it, Grifter raced off towards it, yelling at the top of his lungs. “SEESEE!!! I’M BACK!!!” And just as he was reaching the building, Sense was coming through the door and got tackled by Grifter. Tommy was left to catch up, dragging the kids behind him, glad that this place seemed to be permanently devoid of mobs and he didn’t need to deal with any of them too.

The teen honestly didn’t know what he expected when he found the two helsmits still on the ground kissing each other. The only thing that Tommy didn’t expect at all was the green magic around them, and when Grifter finally pulled away, the teen was surprised to see the scar that had been on Sense’s neck was gone now. “Did… Did you just fucking kiss him to heal him?”

“I mean, I didn’t need to…” Grifter started.

“Oh but it was definitely the best way.” Sense finished for him, sitting up. “And are those who I think they are?”

Grifter jumped back up. “Yes! They were kept perfectly safe and now they’re even active!” He pulled the robot kids over to introduce them. “This one’s Sefter as I believe you probably remember, and now this one is named Grifect. Unless you think another name would do well.”

“No, it fits quite well.” Sense replied before pulling Grifter close to him again. “And you said they’re active? How did you manage that? Was it all those planning sessions?”

“Oh no, I’d never manage to pull off the things you could. It just seems that they showed up before they had counterparts, and now they’re working with them.”

“Ugh, must we be the alternates and not the originals?”

“For all you know, that could mean we end up like those prude mirror versions of ourselves.”

“Hmm, I would miss the mind blowing s-”

“O-Kay! Since you’re together, does this mean I can get back home now? I got you out of prison and now got you to your husband, so now it’s your turn!”

“Yeah yeah. You’re going to need to find EX because I can’t get you there without extra help.”

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock, then anger. “Are you telling me I did all of this shit for you and you can’t fucking do anything?!”

“Hey, I got you out of season four. You couldn’t have done that alone. But I’m just a Listener. If I had help from someone else like a Watcher, then maybe I could do something. EX is an admin, a hacker, is linked to Hermitcraft and that dimension from his brother and the fact that he’s not 100% biologically a hels being.”

Tommy grumbled. “Fine, but can you at least teleport me to him so I don’t have to try and find him myself?”

“No he can’t. He’s not around.” Sense spoke up. “Word went out that he’s off visiting Hermitcraft again.”

“Again? How long has he been going?”

“Since a few months ago when NPG pulled someone over. The message goes out every once and a while leaving someone else in charge. With the bastard that attacked me gone to visit family, Prof’s the one in charge.”

“He’s actually not gone for family. The bitch replaced me instead.”

Sense raised an eyebrow at that. “Is that so? My my, and that lead to Grifter getting out. Wouldn’t it be fun to him coming back and finding someone else in his place.”

“Look, I’m sure you two want plenty of time with each other to do evil and gross things, but unless you can figure something out, I’m gonna bother you two until you fucking do something!”

Grifter rolled his eyes before pulling away from Sense. “Alright fine you little shit. We’ll figure something out. And if we can’t, then we can kill you instead.”

Tommy started backing up. “Uh, did I say bother you two, I meant, I’ll ask politely every once and a while. I’m sure that sounds good, right?”

“No no, Gri’s got a point.” Sense smiled. “With you gone you’ll be gone from Hermitcraft for good, and when that happens, well, the same thing will happen to Theseus. Making sure he can’t try anything more.”

“Aww, c’mon. Maybe since he’s there and I’m here, it won’t work?” Tommy asked in a somewhat pleading tone. “Please don’t kill me.”

Grifter pulled out a piece of TNT, ready to use it on Tommy, when Grifect tugged on his tunic shirt. “Aww, what do you want sweetie? Do you want to have fun with him first?”

“Wouwdn’t uwu wanna huwt the pewson who huwt papa fiwst instead of him?”

Tommy was very conflicted by that. On one hand, it looked like this kid was going to save his life. On the other, did they really need to do it by dealing him who knows how many points of psychic damage? “Uh, yeah, listen to the kid.” ‘Either to make you change your mind or make your ears bleed.’ He continued in his mind.

“Aww, my little pumpkin is already talking!” Grifter cooed, and the second option went out the window. “Well do you have any ideas on what to do?”

“Maybe hacking awnd wistenew powews wowking togethew cawn wowk!” Grifect answered and now Tommy was wondering if maybe death wouldn’t be all that bad. 

“Oh my! Are you telling me you know how to hack! That is wonderful! Oh Sense it’s like the perfect family!”

“Well it’s my family, so of course it is.”

“Yes, everything with you is perfect. Perfect plans, perfect family, perfect-”

“Oh my god please just kill me so I don’t have to listen to this anymore.” Tommy groaned. Fortunately, that seemed to work because apparently he kept ‘killing the mood’ anyway. Within a few moments, Tommy felt like he was falling even though everything around his was a weird purple color. And then suddenly, his feet were on the ground and he was standing in what seemed to be a large empty building. And based on the noises coming outside, said building was in the nether.

“Ugh. Well, at least I still have the fucking gear.”

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #grumbot #jrumbot #itsfundy #dreamwastaken #still not a fan of how dream's persona eminates someone... problematic #the blood vines #badboyhalo #tommyinnit #helscraft #helsmits #hels!grian #hels!Mumbo #hels!Grumbot #hels!jrumbot