#from local chocolate bars

[n1et]

I made myself hot chocolate from scratch today. It was really nice; reminded me a bit of my trips with my godfather.

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

i just think you could never take him grocery shopping which honestly makes me want to take him grocery shopping

[nikkento-writes]

Nanami is slowly sipping on his coffee at the dining table when you return home with the coveted box in your hands. You offered to pick up breakfast earlier this morning, promising to grab something extra special today, which you did. With a satisfied grin on your face, you display the box in front of him, waiting for his response. He glances at it, narrowing his eyes as if he’s trying to figure out what exactly he’s looking at. When he realizes what it is, his shoulders slump, giving you a disapproving look. “You didn’t.” 

You continue to smile at him. “I did.”

It’s a simple design of crudely doodled croissants with the words Petite Céréale scrawled across it. You heard about this online. Each piece is handmade the morning of, baked and buttered to perfection. Then, they’re dipped in a simple syrup, coated with cinnamon sugar, and lastly dehydrated. Because of this arduous process, it’s understandably the most expensive cereal in the world. And when you heard your local bakery would be making their own version of it, you knew you had to be one of the first to get your hands on it.

“How much?” His tone wavers on serious and amused, disappointed you’d give in to these silly viral food trends but simultaneously impressed by your tenacity to actually go through with it. 

You ignore his question, pointing at the box like one of those game show hosts presenting the grand prize. “Mini croissant cereal,” you say, hoping he’ll drop it. 

“Honey.”

“Mini. Croissant. Cereal,” you repeat with emphasis, beaming at him. “Just try it, Kento. If you absolutely hate it, then you can scold me later. But I have a feeling you’ll like this one.”

He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I doubt it.” You can tell he’s remembering the last viral food you made him try, a ridiculously priced chocolate bar famous from Dubai. While it was good, he couldn’t justify the price you spent on them. For some reason, though, you’re confident in this one. 

You scoff at his pretend grumpy attitude as you rummage through your kitchen to retrieve a bowl, cold milk, and two spoons, one for you and one for him. Ready and excited, you sit next to him, opening the box carefully. His lips twitch, hiding a grin as he watches you, oohing and aahing over the outrageously expensive cereal. But even he can admit that the tiny golden croissants are impressive as you pull them out of the box. He lets out a soft, “Wow,” as your eyes sparkle, marveling at the miniature pastries. 

When you open the packaging, the overwhelming aroma of freshly baked bread and butter instantly fills your nostrils. As you pour a decent amount into the bowl, the crisp of the dough taps against the ceramic, making a delightful sound. You both look down at it, inspecting it thoroughly for any imperfections; there’s none. 

Nanami does the honors and splashes milk over it, making sure not to put too much to prevent it from getting soggy. Together, you dig in, doing a cute little cheers before taking a bite. 

It’s heavenly, like nothing you’ve ever had before, especially from a cardboard cereal box. It has the perfect texture; crispy on the outsides, but as soon as you bite in, it’s flaky and crumbly, like how a flawless croissant should be. Even with the sugar coating, it’s not too sweet. And paired with the milk, it’s the perfect combination. Absolutely divine.  

You’re enjoying the moment too much before you finally realize how unusually quiet Nanami is being. By this time, he’d click his tongue at you and tell you how he doesn’t like it or how it isn’t worth the money. But to your delight and surprise, there’s a very special expression on his face: bliss. 

You wait until he finishes chewing to nudge him softly, “Well?”

He breaks out of his reverie to clear a pretend scratch in his throat. Unconvincingly, he replies, “It’s okay.”

You smile, satisfied with his response, eating the rest of the croissant cereal together in peace. 

[valsverse]

• just thinking about percy jackson as your summer bf. fumbling with sunscreen, smearing it on each other’s noses, missing spots on purpose. sticky cuddles under the blanket, even though the air is way too hot for any kind of physical contact. popsicle juice dribbling down your chin, and him kissing it away, his lips sweet and a little too eager. racing into the ocean, him pretending to trip just to make you laugh. stealing sips of each other’s lemonade, but only when you think he’s not looking. screaming on the rollercoaster while he pretends to be fearless, though you catch his knuckles white around the bar. arguing over the best ice cream flavor—he insists on mint chocolate chip, but you know it’s cookies and cream. beach volleyball that always ends with him picking you up and spinning you around, both of you laughing too hard to keep score. running barefoot on the hot pavement, hopping between patches of grass. falling asleep in a hammock, legs tangled, with the smell of saltwater still clinging to your skin, and waking up to sunburned shoulders and his lazy grin. • or how fall coded leo valdez is. going to haunted houses together, hiding your face in his shoulder every time you get freaked, while he grins and teases you, but never lets go. sharing one scarf because he insists he’s not cold, but somehow the scarf always ends up wrapped around you both. carving pumpkins together, where he makes his a goofy, over-engineered contraption while yours is just happy and crooked. attempting to watch Saw for halloween, but halfway through, he grabs the remote, and suddenly It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! is on. apple cider kisses, warm and sweet, his lips tasting like cinnamon. drowning tea with lethal douses of nutmeg because he swears it makes everything better, and it does. walking through piles of fallen leaves, and just when you’re admiring the colors, he kicks a bunch of them at you, laughing as you chase him down the path. ending the night with bonfires, where he messes with the flames, making them flicker in shapes just to make you laugh. • and winters with luke castellan, him cupping your face in his hands, palms warm and soft, trying to chase away the chill from your cheeks, always grumbling about how cold you are, but never pulling away. sharing caramel apples, and him struggling to take a bite while making a mess, albeit with a small grin. snowball fights that start with playful teasing and end with him catching you in his arms, both of you laughing and brushing off snow. walking through the frosty streets, his arm around your shoulders, making sure you’re never too cold. stopping by a food cart for hot chocolate, where he burns his tongue but pretends he's fine, playing it off with a casual shrug while you laugh. driving through the city, holiday music low in the background, his eyes flickering between the lights and your smile; and his peppermint scent clinging to your sweater, lingering long after he’s gone. • while jason grace is undeniably a spring bf. feeding each other freshly picked strawberries, sweet and sun-warmed, his smile soft as he knows just how to choose the best ones. stopping by the convenience store for a snack run, where he knows your favorites by heart, grabbing them without a second thought. stopping by a local café for iced coffee, his fingers brushing yours as he hands you your drink.

playful water fights by the fountain, where he always ends up drenched, his hair sticking to his forehead, but he’s still grinning, water dripping everywhere as you both laugh at the chaos. visiting farmers' markets together, where he picks out the freshest fruits and insists on trying every sample with you. sharing ice cream cones that melt faster than you can eat them, him sneaking bites from yours with a playful smirk, wiping away a stray drip with the back of his hand before it hits the ground.

©valsverse— do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.

[daydreamingqueen1]

Sweets thief

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Warnings/Content: none. pure fluff, a wee bit of bullying to spence (totally harmless and friendly though), crushes, unhealthy amount of candy ingestion lol, no y/n, gn!reader too

Summary: You've been stealing sweets from your resident genius.

Word count: 1.2k

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It wasn't unusual for the BAU members to carry snacks with them.

The job was hard, stressful and, most importantly, it had unpredictable hours. So finding time to eat a proper meal wasn't always a viable option.

Nevertheless, eating is a basic human need and even if it's not completely healthy, the agents often found themselves battling their hunger with quick snacks.

As a relatively new member of the BAU, buying said vital snacks wasn't yet ingrained in your mind, resulting in you continually forgetting to buy something to munch on during cases.

Stealing was always an option though.

After several months with your coworkers, you are proud to say that you have managed to eat at the expense of all of their pockets, for experts in human behavior, they don't hide their treats so well.

However, after several months, you have come to know their go-to snacks and, subsequently, you have become picky.

Morgan eats some kind of high-protein bars with an awfully bright neon wrapper.

Emily loves those salt and vinegar chips every station has on their vending machines.

JJ, ever the healthy mom of the group, always has a few packages of oatmeal raisin cookies on hand.

Rossi carries eucalyptus and mint gummies like the old man he is.

And Hotch buys the most bland granola bars known to mankind.

With all of that said, the conclusion was obvious.

Spencer has the best snacks.

It is not only that he always has sweets but that he's the only one that manages for variety instead of a fixed thing. A bit ironic considering he is the most prone to sticking to a rigid routine. Well, you aren't complaining though, especially not this month.

You realized quickly that Halloween was a big thing for the resident genius, seeming to make the grown man regress to the mentality of an overly eager seven-year-old. It's lucky for you because that means that he chooses to try a new candy every single day of October.

It also means that you had begun stealing exclusively from him and, being surrounded by profilers, it wasn't long until you were discovered as the culprit.

A shadow had eclipsed your desk suddenly, making you look up to a squinting Dr. Reid. “Did you take my last Peanut Butter Cup?”

You shook your head, “No...”

Derek snorted on the desk nearby, “You've still got chocolate on your face, kid,”

Cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand, you smiled up at Spencer sweetly.

His converse sounded hard against the floor as he stumped away.

Apparently, you weren't that discreet. He ended up catching you many more times after that.

"Hey!" Spencer swatted your hand when you grabbed yet another handful of his M&Ms.

You shrugged, feigning innocence, “Hey to you too Reid, but we've been in the same room for a while.”

He huffed, inching the box slightly out of your reach.

Many more times.

Your hand was literally inside the familiar size bag of Starburst candy when Spencer came back from the bathroom.

“Oh come on!” he groaned, taking the bag out of your grasp, “Buy your own.”

You went back to the local police station office, giggling to yourself like a child with your hands full of candy.

At this point hunger had become a secondary motive to your stealing. The number one reason being how adorable Spencer's reactions were when he caught you.

In all honesty, you harbored a bit of a crush on the man. You didn't have the courage to tell him upfront, making your silly brain manifest your feelings like a preschooler pulling on the pigtails of their crush. Oh, but teasing him was so fun, and it got you free candy so it was even better.

Then, yesterday, there was an incident.

The team was on the jet, another kidnapped girl had been safely returned to her parents, fairly quickly this time too. Spirits were high at wrapping up a case with such a positive outcome, making most of the agents mingle and play games on the usually quiet ride home.

You were perched on one of the individual seats, scrolling away in your phone and absentmindedly eating some candy (you had bought your own for once).

You jolted a bit when a hand dived into your candy bag. When you looked up, you found a smirking Spencer standing right in front of you, looking fairly smug and popping a piece into his mouth. He thought he was finally getting back at you for eating all of his sweets.

His joy lasted for about three seconds before he realized his mistake.

See, to the untrained eye, he had just eaten a couple of innocent looking bear gummies. Except, these were not regular gummies, they were your favorite kind, the most sour kind.

Spencer's face scrunched up with disgust, the sour effect of the gummy doubled at taking him by surprise, the acidic taste completely taking over his taste buds.

You couldn't help it, you bent over your belly with laughter, inadvertently drawing attention to Spencer's predicament.

The whole team snickered as they watched him rush back and forth on the narrow hall of the jet until he got hold of a tissue to spit the offending candy.

“What the hell is that?” he turned around to confront you.

You gave him an apologetic smile, “Sour candy?”

More laughs filled the space and Spencer had sat down on the furthest chair from yours, pouting with his arms crossed over his chest.

Back to today, you feel actually kind of guilty about what happened. You have been munching on all of Spencer's treats for weeks and the one time he does it to you, the whole team ends up making fun of him. A bit of teasing was fine but you don't want the man to actually feel bad.

So when you see him stand up from his desk and walk into the kitchen, you quickly jump out of your chair and grab something from your bag, trailing right behind him through the bullpen.

He's making himself an exaggeratedly sweet cup of coffee when you corner him.

“Spencer,” you call, making him turn around. Your hands are inconspicuously behind your back, “Trick or treat?”

His eyebrows furrow suspiciously, “Neither if you're going to give me one of those monstrosities you like.”

You huff out a laugh, “No, no, I promise it's not that. Come on, trick or treat? ”

After measuring up how much he trusts your statement, he relents, “Treat.”

“Ta-dah!” you sing, revealing a single Hershey’s Kiss in your palm.

Spencer's eyes light up.

“I know it doesn't make up for everything I ate but it's an offer of peace.”

He gives you a small smile, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

As his hand extends to grab the chocolate, your brain has an impulsive thought.

You lean forward and peck his lips.

It lasts barely a second but it's enough to make your heart beat wildly against your chest.

Spencer stares at you frozen in place, a crimson color spreading all over his face.

“A kiss for a kiss,” you mumble dumbly, like saying that makes it better somehow.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid!’ You think to yourself, your feet are prepared to flee the scene when he unexpectedly grabs your wrist.

“I– I...” he stammers, his cheeks turning impossibly redder, “I wouldn't mind if you stole more of those.”

A shy smile spreads on your face. Perhaps you won't start buying your own snacks soon.

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it's a bit silly but I was feeling halloween-y and craving sour candy

leave me a prompt or idea you'd like me to write!

♡, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

hope ya liked it, byebye

My masterlist

[reasonsforhope]

The Surucuá community in the state of Pará is the first to receive an Amazonian Creative Laboratory, a compact mobile biofactory designed to help kick-start the Amazon’s bioeconomy.

Instead of simply harvesting forest-grown crops, traditional communities in the Amazon Rainforest can use the biofactories to process, package and sell bean-to-bar chocolate and similar products at premium prices.

Having a livelihood coming directly from the forest encourages communities to stay there and protect it rather than engaging in harmful economic activities in the Amazon.

The project is in its early stages, but it demonstrates what the Amazon’s bioeconomy could look like: an economic engine that experts estimate could generate at least $8 billion per year.

In a tent in the Surucuá community in the Brazilian Amazonian state of Pará, Jhanne Franco teaches 15 local adults how to make chocolate from scratch using small-scale machines instead of grinding the cacao beans by hand. As a chocolatier from another Amazonian state, Rondônia, Franco isn’t just an expert in cocoa production, but proof that the bean-to-bar concept can work in the Amazon Rainforest.

“[Here] is where we develop students’ ideas,” she says, gesturing to the classroom set up in a clearing in the world’s greatest rainforest. “I’m not here to give them a prescription. I want to teach them why things happen in chocolate making, so they can create their own recipes,” Franco tells Mongabay.

The training program is part of a concept developed by the nonprofit Amazônia 4.0 Institute, designed to protect the Amazon Rainforest. It was conceived in 2017 when two Brazilian scientists, brothers Carlos and Ismael Nobre, started thinking of ways to prevent the Amazon from reaching its impending “tipping point,” when deforestation turns the rainforest into a dry savanna.

Their solution is to build a decentralized bioeconomy rather than seeing the Amazon as a commodity provider for industries elsewhere. Investments would be made in sustainable, forest-grown crops such as cacao, cupuaçu and açaí, rather than cattle and soy, for which vast swaths of the forest have already been cleared. The profits would stay within local communities.

A study by the World Resources Institute (WRI) and the New Climate Economy, published in June 2023, analyzed 13 primary products from the Amazon, including cacao and cupuaçu, and concluded that even this small sample of products could grow the bioeconomy’s GDP by at least $8 billion per year.

To add value to these forest-grown raw materials requires some industrialization, leading to the creation of the Amazonian Creative Laboratories (LCA). These are compact, mobile and sustainable biofactories that incorporate industrial automation and artificial intelligence into the chocolate production process, allowing traditional communities to not only harvest crops, but also process, package and sell the finished products at premium prices.

The logic is simple: without an attractive income, people may be forced to sell or use their land for cattle ranching, soy plantations, or mining. On the other hand, if they can make a living from the forest, they have an incentive to stay there and protect it, becoming the Amazon’s guardians.

“The idea is to translate this biological and cultural wealth into economic activity that’s not exploitative or harmful,” Ismael Nobre tells Mongabay."

-via Mongabay News, January 2, 2024

[taintedcigs]

guys i think we’re underestimating how caring steve would be in a relationship. that boy has so much love to give but no one seems to accept it. like if you start dating he’s definitely worshipping the ground you walk on.

you want flowers? he's getting you one everytime he walks by a flower shop or picking flowers whenever he sees one.

you want some treats? he has acquired 89 chocolate bars and even some pastries from the local coffee shop you love.

you are late to somewhere? he's your personal driver from now on. dropping you off and picking you up from EVERYWHERE and he doesn't care if he's busy, he makes time for u!!!!

you wanna watch movies? cool he picked out 6 different movies that he knows you'd love. (even horror movies, he’ll watch most of it behind his hand, but anything to make u happy<3)

you wanna have a cozy day at home? good! he's got some groceries so u guys can cook together and make some delicious food <3

you feel stressed? he has his mouth, fingers and something really… big that can fix that very quickly!!

[colap1nto]

food as the love language prompts, part 1

hey guys! this is a various prompt lists about food/baking/cooking. feel free to rb this list, use it in your stories and like this post. no credit necessary <3 enjoy your writing!

character a makes character's b favorite meal after a long day (at work, at school, etc)

going to the local farmer's market to get their food

making their groceries together

doing the groceries list

surprising the other with their favorite treat

trying a new recipe (could be a total success or a total fail)

sharing a family recipe with each other

trying a recipe from another country

making a birthday cake

stopping by a chocolate shop

memorizing the other's coffee shop order (and surprising them with it)

owning a bakery/chocolate shop/coffee shop

character a is a barista and character b is a regular client. character a has character b's order memorize and they write their number on their cup one day

going on a farm/orchard to pick up their own fresh fruits and/or vegetables

making bread together

attending a banquet

going to a special dinner event (e.g. medieval times)

ordering some take-out or delivery from their favorite restaurant while having a movie night or a night in their living room while watching tv

sharing a box of chocolates

eating their favorite chocolate bar

doing the breakfast

making a lunch

making the dinner

baking some pies

doing a weird shaped food (e.g. using a cookie cutter with a special shape)

making some pancakes or waffles

doing a breafast in bed

eating some ice cream in a parlor

sharing the ice cream pot they have in the freezer and having a small talk

going on a fishing trip and eating the fish from it

making some smore's in front of the bonfire

going to a local food festival

listing their favorite recipes to make a cook book about it

almost burning the kitchen or the whole house because of a recipe gone wrong

character a comes back home to a very good smell while character b is cooking something

waking up in the middle of the night for a midnight snack

[yyokkki]

Warning: Chapter 7 Spoilers!!

Malleus Draconia

The local wizard! He’s a big enigma to the townspeople and people either hate him or love him! (Not true, literally only Leona and Diasomnia feel that strongly for him)

Not much is known about magic in this world and it’s said only fae and their descendants are capable of wielding it.

Lives in the forest in a tower that houses two very well maintained gargoyles. 

When you receive a letter from him about the junimos he adds that you should get gargoyles too for a better drainage system…

In this universe I think you would already know who he is from the get go but he won’t tell you his name so you nickname him Tsunotaro/Hornton anyways.

Is very close to Lilia, Sebek and Silver! Lilia raised him, he half raised Silver and Sebek is his apprentice! (He took him in out of fondness)

He’s actually a descendant of fae royalty from a fallen kingdom ages old but now he’s living at NRV.

He’s very lonely and was very glad to hear a little farmer with no knowledge of his reputation had moved in.

And yes, stone is a liked gift for him-

Loved Gifts: Ice Cream, Any Gem, Rose, Dinosaur Egg, Universal Loves

“Heh. It takes quite the feat to impress someone of my calibre, child of man. You’ve done well.”

Hated Gifts: Pink Cake, Chocolate Cake, Strange Bun (Specifically the Lilia branded ones…), Iron Bar, Universal Hates

“...” Lighting turns it into ashes.

Lilia Vanrouge

The owner and leader of the adventurer’s guild! Started it with Baul who is currently in the Skull Caverns.

Is actually fae and a powerful wizard but nobody in town knows, they just think he’s this weird kid who’s really good with the sword.

Lives in a little cottage in the woods with his son Silver who he took in when he was but a babe.

Malleus was living with them before but had to move out cuz his cauldrons and bookshelves were taking up too much space. They still live very close by though so he brings food over whenever he cooks! (Malleus teleports to ten different locations and Lilia follows)

.He’s considering retiring from his position at the adventurers guild and passing it onto Silver.

He has been training Silver and Sebek in the art of swordsmanship since they were young.

He’s in a band with Cater and Kalim, he plays the bass! Occasionally travels to the city for concerts!

Is often found at his cottage or at the adventurers guild!

Loved Gifts: Tomatoes, Black Licorice, Tomato Juice, Pizza, Strange Bun, Universal Loves

“How precious! I’m guessing my cuteness has charmed you? Fufu~”

Hated Gifts: Marshmallows, Solar Essence, Bat Wing, Universal Hates

“Hm. I'm rather disappointed in you, farmer..."

Silver Vanrouge

A knight in training, learning swordsmanship from Lilia! 

A lot of Lilia’s training consists of going down into the mines and freestyling so he picks up requests from the bulletin board often to hit two birds with one stone. Lilia banned him from going down alone after his first time passing out though…

Often passes out in the middle of the day and sometimes wakes up to see Ortho charging him 50 gold…

He’s a good friend of the animals in NRV and sometimes visits Kalim’s ranch to see them! He’s also the one who found the cat/dog that becomes your companion!

I feel like he has a mini garden near his cottage too! He bans Lilia from entering.

Goes horse racing with Sebek and Riddle every sunny Monday!

Is often found at his cottage, in the mines or taking a nap on a tree near town square.

Loved Gifts: Acorns, Mushroom Risotto, Coffee, Espresso, Universal Loves

“This is a great gift. How can I convey my gratitude?”

For Coffee and Espresso: “Thank you, farmer. This will keep me awake for training… Probably.”

Hated Gifts: Strange Bun (Also the Lilia branded ones…), Universal Hates

“Uhm, this is a rather… Unconventional gift."

For Strange Bun: “!! Has father been in the kitchen recently?!”

Sebek Zigvolt

A half-fae who’s the proud apprentice of the great wizard! 

Lives with his parents, older brother and older sister and is childhood friends with Silver! Lilia basically sees him as another son with how often he’s around.

His father works as a dentist in town and his mother is an adventurer!

His family goes on fishing trips often.

Is able to use magic due to being half fae but the village doesn’t wanna give him the respect that deserves cuz he’s such a loudmouth…

He also still trains with Silver and Lilia regularly!

Goes horseback riding with Riddle and Silver every sunny Monday but is actually deathly afraid of horses…

Loved Gifts: Salmon Carpaccio, Books, Universal Loves

“Hmph, not bad for a human!"

Hated Gifts: Coffee, Espresso, Iron Bar, Strange Bun (Once again…)

“A slight to me is a slight to Master Malleus! Be prepared, human!”

For Strange Bun: “T-This is!! I will accept this… For Master Lilia…”

---

TWST x SDV Masterlist

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@agaygothicmushroom

[harmonictechnicality]

It’s 1998 and Steve Harrington is waiting in line at a local department store’s Black Friday sale. The new gameboy color was just released a few days earlier - he figures it’ll be the perfect Christmas gift for all of his little dweebie friends.

Eddie Munson is standing directly behind Steve in line. He’s waiting to buy a new guitar amp - been saving his tip money for months and still can’t afford one at full price; he desperately needs any discount he can get.

After about the first hour of waiting, Steve notices Eddie mumbling to himself. Counting, then re-counting the money in his wallet. Steve Harrington has never re-counted money in his life. Never had to worry about not having enough. Especially not like this guy.

They spark up a conversation in the third hour of waiting. Steve compliments Eddie’s industrial bar piercing in his left ear. Eddie compliments Steve’s beaded hemp bracelet. Steve explains that his best friend made it for him after their first summer apart from one another.

By the final hour, they’re both tipsy. Eddie brought a thermos of spiked hot chocolate and offers to share it with Steve. Both of them tell stories about their worst hangovers and reminisce about their most memorable Christmas mornings as kids. They’re both buzzing and giggling at the stupidest shit. Buzzing so much that they don’t even comment on the fact that they’re huddled close together under the wool blanket that Steve supplied. Thighs touching. Arms overlapping.

Steve has finally worked up the courage to loop his pinky finger around Eddie’s when the line begins to move. He’s more than a little disappointed, but they both gather their things and enter the store.

Luckily, Steve is able to snag enough gameboys for his entire crew of nerdlings. As he gets in line, he watches Eddie studying the price on the amp he has been saving for. He re-counts his cash once more, before hanging his head and walking away without his item.

Not wasting a goddamn second, Steve jumps out of line and grabs the amp box off the shelf. Eddie looks back at him, shaking his head.

“Hey man, you don’t have to do that.” Eddie pleads with him.

But Steve has never had to worry about not having enough. Not even once.

“I know I don’t have to.” Steve shrugs, lugging all of his items to the checkout counter. “But it’s the season of giving, or whatever hallmark shit they say.”

Eddie protests a few more times, but Steve is adamant on doing this. It feels right.

As they walk out of the store, Eddie digs in his back pocket, pulling out a wrinkled neon flyer.

“You should come see my band next Friday.” Eddie hands the paper to Steve, then motions to the amp. “You know, to see this beauty in action.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there.”

The sun is starting to rise as they both load up their cars. Steve is about to turn the key in the ignition when he acts on his impulses. He runs up to Eddie, who is closing the trunk of his van.

“Here.” Steve grabs Eddie’s wrist and pulls out a black ink pen. He scribbles his phone number there, only legible enough for Eddie to read it.

“Just in case you want to see me before next Friday.”

Steve walks away before he can see Eddie’s reaction, good or bad. He’s brave, but not that brave.

“Hey, Steve!” Eddie calls back.

“Yeah?” Steve takes a deep breath, then turns around. Can’t avoid his reaction now.

"Thank you for this." Eddie winks. "All of this."

He waves his wrist, the one with Steve's phone number sprawled all over it.

"Anytime." Steve answers back. He heads back to his car full of gifts. Smiling the whole ride home.

Eddie calls Steve that Sunday night and they spend their evening just like they had on Black Friday: talking until the sun comes up.

[tteokdoroki]

imagine if your bestfriend katsuki was really babyfaced until he hit his 20’s. total late bloomer, aure he went through puberty but his body looked like it had never gotten out of the awkward teen boy phase look!

so, anyways maybe you travel back him for some family time, gone for maybe 3-4 months. Katsuki had already looked really mature, he just had some baby fat, and you teased him, because in your words he still looked like he did when he was 5.

now you’ve come back, and boy, has katsuki grown. you and the group go out on the town, and when you see katsuki he has grown in height, build, and his face is now chiseled. and you cant believe your eyes. the whole night you can’t stop staring, seeing your bestfriend in a new light.

(sorry if this makes no sense im running on a low brain battery lol!)

kissing your brain actually absolutely just smooching it ??

growing up with katsuki and he’s just the kid you guys picked on ever so slightly cause it was easy to get on his nerves — he’d just run home and cry. definitely a mamas boy LMAO !! but you’re both so cute, with gaps in your teeth and messy cheeks and your parents think you’re gonna end up together when you grow up. katsuki thinks that’s gross and you think he’s being mean n you push each other away like ewww grosss even though you were probably crushing on each other back then.

when you’re a little older katsuki is still baby faced and his mom always pinches his cheeks and calls him handsome and does that thing mom’s do where they lick their thumb and use it to wipe their kids face. PLEASE but katsuki is still so cute n hasn’t quite grown into himself yet :(( and when you start hitting 13/14 everyone is talking about the boys they like and who they wanna go to the movies with after school — he doesn’t think you’ll wanna go out with him because you’re best friends and he doesn’t look like the guys in your teen pop magazines or the boy groups you like.

stop he has like braces, he’s a little lanky and his voice is always cracking !!! awkward teen boy katsuki for the win!!! he probably stays like that all the way through high school n then you end up losing touch after graduation/starting college.

but then a few years down the line when you’re back from college your friends are begging you to come to a local bar to catch up — you ask if katsuki will be there and they won’t stop teasing you about it because you haven’t seen each other in ages !! laughing and pointing when he rolls in with your other guy friends, taller, thicker more buff. you’re practically drooling.

the katsuki you knew was shy, and small if he wanted to be but this katsuki is loud. he fills the whole room with his presence, he’s got a waistline that could kill and a jawline so sharp you could cut diamonds on it.

“didn’t your ma ever tell ya starin’ is rude?” bakugou mumbles when he’s close enough to order a drink and you literally melt in your spot — because when did his voice get so deep? basically running through your ears like melted chocolate.

“you’ve changed.” you quip.

“for the better, i hope?”

“yeah… you look good.”

“and so do you,” he comments back smoothly. “but don’cha worry, ‘m still your same old katsuki.”

and god, the way he smirks at you afterwards makes your thighs shake and your stomach do back flips, and you kinda hope your katsuki is a little bolder, a little different when you ask him.

“do you wanna get out of here, katsuki?”

your suspicions are confirmed when bakugou kicks back his shot and says.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[mauvecherie-writes]

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” : k.powers

warnings: none.

note: a good ole’ surprise fic that I wrote in a couple of hours since his video is now a viral TikTok sound 😂. support the page any way you can girlies 😘 like, comment and reblog. this was supposed to be less than a thousand words 🫠.

w.c: 1.2K

It has been two and a half hours since you arrived at the event.

For some reason, the promotors really wanted you to come so they went out of their way of booking you a flight from your city to Sacramento and booking you a very suite at the Kimpton Sawyer Hotel. They had even offered to hire you a private driver but even, a woman who often didn’t say no to free things, declined the offer.

Instead, you had messaged some of your friends who were in the local area who had informed you that they were attending the event so you joined them. The event was a pretty successful one for the community. Celebrities and influencers alike would come from near and far to attend because of the safe environment it had cultured due to their strict rules. The event was a space for lovers and to find lovers, consent was heavily promoted and had security constantly surveying the space and the biggest thing you loved when the flyer was sent to you was the insistence to use your phone less and just be present in the moment.

The event, SweetOne, was working to bring back the clubbing culture of the old days with their own modern twist to it. An event where egos were left at the door and people met each other on a human level to connect. You were enticed by that (the $13,000 check for your promotion to your 8.9 million audience and appearance for the night was also a little push.)

So here you were, engrossed within the atmosphere as your body swayed to Body Party by Ciara as your friends cheered you on. The liquor had sunk deep into your veins and you were really letting loose for the first time in a long time. Your sultry black and gold mini halter dress sat on your curves, adding onto the sensuality of your impromptu performance. The bangs of your curled silk press fell over your eyes like a curtain as you sang along to the erotic lyrics.

“Woooo! You go girl!” Your friend, Nikki cheered you on as she recorded you. You turned around and held onto the bars that had been a supporting act to your dance. With your hands on either side of you, your hips swayed side to side.

“My body is calling you.” You sang as your eyes opened and by chance, met the ones that had been tracking your movements all night. Behind the brim of his cup, he was intently watching you with a dark glint in his eyes that amused you.

Your glossed lips curled into a smirk as you turned away from the handsome man and then you brought your performance to a close with your friends shouting for an encore.

“Next performance comes with a charge.” You winked at them as you stepped away from the edge of the section.

When you sat down, you couldn’t shake the vision of him watching you. He was a sight, himself. Chocolate brown skin with dark freckles scattered across his cheeks, a neatly trimmed anchor style beard sitting on the sharpest jawline you’d ever seen with your own eyes. It was too dim to see his haircut but you knew that his hair was short. You were also digging the way that was dressed. The light grey sweater snuggly fit around his long torso, highlighting his muscles.

The thing that captured your attention the most were his naturally pink tainted lips, that he seemed to lick very often. God, you were smitten and you had not shared one word with the man.

“Excuse me?” Your attention was called out of your thoughts and you snapped up to meet the eye contact of a server.

“Yes?” You enquired.

“The gentleman from across the room bought you this drink as a thank you for the performance.” The server said. Your cheeks warmly flushed before you scanned the room and met his eyes yet again. He slightly nodded his head and gave you a slight wink. You turned back to the server with a smile.

“Can you go back to the gentleman and tell him I’ll humbly accept his thanks if he brings the drink himself.”

The server smiled, nodded and then left. You eyeballed them as they walked across the room and back to him. They spoke, he bent down to get closer to hear the server speak. He was tall … even more interesting.

Then, he took the drink from the tray and began walking towards where you were. You took a deep breath as his height became more apparent.

“Hi.” The richness of his deep voice vibrated through you and settled in the pit of your stomach. You were fucked - you were a sucker for a good voice.

“Hi.” You breathlessly smiled up at him as you crossed your legs, putting your carved legs on display to his ravenous eyes.

“You said you wouldn’t accept this drink unless I brought it myself.”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head as you held eye contact, hoping to not let your attraction seep into your actions. “We’ve been tip-toeing around each other for most of the night. Someone had to make a move.”

He grinned and his white teeth shone at you. “I’m a little disheartened that it had to be you to make a move but I like your boldness. I like it a lot.”

“So, sit with me then.” You scooted a bit to the side, opening a space beside yourself. He placed the drink on the table in front of you and then sat down. That’s when you truly took in the beauty of this man. From his full yet neat eyebrows, his tapered sides and most importantly, just how pink his lips were up close.

“That was quite the performance you put.” He commented. And despite the shyness threatening to grip your senses, you rolled your eyes - downplaying the intention of your actions.

“It was nothing. I was just feeling the music that’s all.” You shrugged your shoulders as you reached for the drink he had purchased for you - a French 75.

“Your sentence seems to imply that you could do more than what you gave right now.” His eyebrow inquisitively raised up.

“Well, we’d need to at least be exclusive for that kind of performance.” You boldly stated as your body turned with your legs leaning towards his body. He let out a one syllable laugh as his head fell backwards. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. The length of his neck would be perfect beneath your fingers …

“So how do we get to that stage then?” He brought his head forward and turned to face you.

“Well, you can start by telling me your name.” He brought his hand forward, outreached for you to shake.

“Hi, I’m Keith. Nice to meet you.” You took his hand into yours and you couldn’t help but notice the difference and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Nice to meet you Keith. I’m YN.” You replied as you gazed upon his face. As he met your stare, the dark glint of desire was back with a touch of promise for more in them …

And your body and mind would be readily accepting of that.

————————————

reading list: @queenshikongo3 @dhlfastestlap @saintslewis @serpenttines-library @saturnville @hopefulromantic1 @cocobutterqwueen @bluesole16 @chaneajoyyy @emjayewrites @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @sapphireheaven @olyvoyl @lewisroscoelove @lh44adore @hellomadamebutterfly @scorpiobleue @qveenmelanink @tremendousstarlighttragedy @bekindbecoolbeyou @greedyjudge2 @itsapurrfectstorm @createdbylivingclocks @samiwzx @omgsuperstarg @peyiswriting @miyuhpapayuh @blowmymbackout @purplelewlew @henneseyhoe @perfecttrashface

[jflemings]

— the smallest man who ever lived pt2

pairing: jessie fleming x reader (piper’s world)

synopsis: jessie’s morning gets disrupted

warnings: piper’s birth father

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

And I don't even want you back, I just want to know / If rusting my sparkling summer was the goal / And I don't miss what we had, but could someone give / A message to the smallest man who ever lived?

jessie pulls up to the small cafe with a huff. she’d been out picking up some essentials the three of you needed when she thought to stop by your local cafe to get some hot drinks and muffins for you all. the rain continues to hit her windshield rhythmically and she pulls up her hood and gets out of her car.

the canadian keeps her head ducked and her hands stuffed in her pockets as a shiver runs up her spine. the small bell above the door jingles and warm air hits the apples of her cheeks, making her sigh.

“hi jessie!” april, the young barista, says cheerily “your regular?”

she nods “add a hot chocolate and a medium caramel latte, too please” she smiles

april begins punching it into the register before holding her arm out to the display case full of treats “we’ve got freshly baked muffins this morning! added a new mars bar flavour too”

jessie’s eyes scan over the various flavours of muffins “can i get one blueberry and white chocolate, one apple and cinnamon aaand…” jessie pauses and squints, leaning forward slightly “one of the mars bar ones too please” she says with a small huff.

april cracks a smile as she directs jessie’s attention to the card reader “just twenty four dollars!”

“thanks april” she smiles before having a seat near the door. she leans her forearms on the table and pulls out her phone to respond to texts from you she knows are unread. she continues to scroll for a little bit before an uneasy feel settles over her. jessie ignores it, shaking out her shoulders before settling back.

a tingle crawls up her spine and the midfielder suddenly feels like she’s being watched. she flexes her hand and looks up subtly, scanning her eyes over each of the patrons before settling on a man on the other side of the small cafe.

a hot flash of fury washes over jessie and she struggles to keep her expression neutral. she flexes her hand again and looks at her watch before looking to the counter where april is finishing making her order. she doesn’t spare another glance at the man as she stands and tucks her chair in, pocketing her phone and stepping towards the counter.

in her peripheral vision she sees him stand and suddenly becomes rooted in her spot.

“jessie!” april calls sweetly, placing a tray and paper bag down “here ya go”

“thanks april” she says “have a good day”

april nods and waves as jessie goes to turn before the man grabs her elbow. she stills and slowly looks from his hand to his face. “can i help you” you says rhetorically, her eyes stone cold.

“jessie, we need to talk” your ex says

she briefly looks back at april to make sure she’s not watching before turning back to him “actually, i need to get home” she grits before shooting a glance at his hand “let go of me”

liam listens and drops his hand from her elbow before holding his hands up in surrender “i just want to talk”

“i think you made your stance pretty clear at meadow park” she says lowly, “there’s nothing more to say really” she shrugs and walks out of the cafe with liam still hot on her trail.

“what did you expect me to say? that i didn’t mind the fact that my ex girlfriend, the mother of my child, took my little girl away from me?” he says forcefully “because i’m not, i deserve to know piper”

jessie stills as she gets to her car. she breathes in and out deeply in an attempt to calm the anger that’s bubbling in her stomach “y/n didn’t take piper away and you made your choice.” she says as she turns “and honestly, i don’t want to fucking hear it. i don’t care how entitled you think you are, after dragging her through hell and back you don’t deserve anything”

liam’s jaw clenches and his eyes narrow “you don’t know what choice i made”

“she broke up with you because she discovered she was a lesbian, told you she was pregnant and then you told her to fuck off. even after that she still continued to try to contact you so you could meet piper, and you told her that you didn’t even want to know the name of your child” jessie relays calmly. “i know enough”

“but she didn’t even ask me why i did it, why i didn’t want to be a dad! i’m older now and i regret what i did. i want to know my daughter” liam says more calmly, but just as stern “and i was hoping that you’d understand, or at the very least tell y/n to contact me”

jessie huffs “your name isn’t on the birth certificate. legally, she’s not your child” she shrugs before walking to the drivers side door.

when jessie walks through the door of your shared place she’s immediately met with the sound of small feet running.

“mama mama!” piper shouts before stopping directly in front of her, holding up a piece of paper “look at what i drew!” she shouts as she holds it proudly.

jessie leans down “that’s really good pip!”

“that’s auntie sammy and auntie caitlin, and auntie katie, and auntie leah, and stephy, calvy and dean” she lists off as she points to the numerous figures on the page “and guro and auntie ky!” she concludes with a smile on her face.

jessie nods and tilts her chin, signalling piper to follow her to the kitchen.

“they’re all playing football! and katie and sammy are fighting like they do sometimes” she says cheerily “and calvy is the ref, see” she slaps the paper on the counter for jessie to see. low and behold, there’s steph’s dog calvin dressed in a bright yellow referee’s shirt with a whistle around his neck “dean is on the sidelines and guro is the goalie”

“that’s really good pip, do you wanna put it in your folder for safe keeping?” jessie asks as she begins to unload the few groceries she stopped to get.

piper nods “can you help?”

“go get it and i’ll put it in a sleeve”

piper excitedly runs off, almost running into your legs as you come down the hallway. you swerve and turn to jess “guro in goal is funnier than calvin being the ref”

“i’m sure she’d love that” jessie says as she playfully rolls her eyes.

you grab the empty tote bag the two of you use for groceries and begin to fold it up, only now noticing the slight dip in jessie’s demeanour. you notice the tray of drinks and paper bag and take your latte and muffin, unwrapping the treat and picking big chunks out of it.

“what’s up with you?” you ask through a mouthful of blueberry and white chocolate

“what do you mean?” jessie says as she sips her drink

you give her a flat look “jessie”

she closes her eyes and runs her hand over her face “i ran into liam at the cafe and we had words” she sighs.

your stomach drops and you pause your picking “what did he say to you”

“that he deserves to know piper” the canadian places the cup on the counter and traces the lid with her finger “just throwing himself a fucking pity party, really”

you widen your eyes in mild surprise. jessie wasn’t one to casually swear, especially if there was a chance that piper was within earshot “and what did you say?” you lean on the counter and jessie bites her lip. she takes a long sip of her coffee and licks her lips

“that he doesn’t deserve anything and that his name isn’t on the birth certificate so piper isn’t legally his child” she says quietly to you, not looking into your eyes “obviously neither am i, but he was saying how pip is his kid, and he was calling her his little girl, and i just kinda snapped” she says as she ducks her head.

you smile and walk to the other side of the kitchen island and wrap your arms around jessie’s waist, hugging her side. you kiss her cheek and lean your head on her shoulder as her hand comes up to cup your cheek “you could be, y’know” you say quietly to her before propping your chin up on her shoulder “if you want it, we could put your name on the birth certificate”

jessie turns to you with wide eyes, her mouth is slightly agape “you mean adoption? like, i adopt piper?”

you shrug “why not”

she opens her mouth to speak again before piper comes back into the kitchen. she’s dressed in plastic pink heels, a mini mccabe ireland jersey, an old birthday crown from her second birthday and a singular dress up glove. in her hands is her art folder.

“mama” she says as she holds the folder out “i tried to get it in but it didn’t work”

you try to stifle a laugh as your daughter comes to jessie’s side with a little down on her face “i didn’t want to rip it”

jessie takes the folder off her and opens it to where she’d tried to get her most recent artwork into a plastic sleeve. she carefully pulls out the paper and flattens it before sliding it in easily.

you reach around jessie’s back and tug on the shoulder of the small ireland jersey she’s got on “where’d you get this from?”

“katie” piper responds “to add to my collection!”

you hum “did you say thank you?”

“of course i said thank you” she drags out dramatically “i know my manners mumma”

“good girl” you praise as you twirl one of her little pigtails.

jessie hands the display folder back to the little girl “here you go pip” she says as she adjusts the crown on piper’s head “there’s a hot chocolate and muffin here for you” she says

piper smiles and holds the folder close to her chest “thank you mama!” piper exclaims “i’ll go put this away and then come back” she says before running back to her room, her little plastic heels clicking against the floor.

your girlfriend turns her head to look at you as you tighten your grip on her “the adoption thing… are you sure?”

you lean further into her “i am” you nod “and if that’s something you want, we can look into it, see what the process is since she wasn’t born here”

“it is something i want” jessie nods as she leans her head on yours “if we can’t do it here we could go back to australia for christmas? it would be good to see your family” she thinks out loud.

“i agree” you say as you pick at your muffin again before holding the piece up to jessie’s mouth. “are you okay? after seeing liam?” you ask her quietly.

jessie chews on the muffin “i’m fine. i thought i’d be more hostile but i was okay”

you aimlessly run your finger over the drink hole in the cardboard tray “i, uhm” you pause “i think i want to talk to him” you admit quietly, not looking at jessie.

her hands squeeze your arms that are around your waist “yeah?”

“for answers” you continue “i thought i was fine with not knowing but now that he’s here, i don’t think i can live the rest of my life without closure”

jessie runs her hands up and down your arms “okay” she says “if that’s what you want”

you hook your chin over the round of her shoulder so that you’re looking directly at the side of her face “it is, but only if you’re there with me”

“i wouldn’t be anywhere else”

[itsabouttimex2]

Can I request a platonic yandere sun wukong and macaque realizing that the teen mystic monkey they've been raising is planning to leave ffm?

O Child of Unity

(I’m assuming you want Shadowpeach, then? I’m still not the best with it, but I’ll try! Also, a new bot is up!🧡💜 Also again, this fic is compliant with Deepest Hues- which I’ll expand on soon!)

There are four base colors in our world: black, white, yellow, and red. Together, these four hues represent the base components of alchemy- nigredo, albedo, citrinitas, and rubedo.

In times ancient and forgotten, a massive reservoir of these four colors existed in each corner of the earth. Like pools of chaos they surged, brimming with power and life. From each of these brightly-hued depths did an egg arise, containing a Mystic Monkey of incredible potential.

One of light. One of shadow. One of snow. One of fire.

And recently, a brand new simian, born of a union from nigredo and citrinitas, pitch black and bright yellow fusing their mystical lineage into a mottled green.

Their union blessed the world with a little virescent monkey, big eyes and soft fur-

You.

The world is such a wonderful place, you’ve learned. Geysers of boiling water and hunched spikes of snow. Sand white as bone and lakes stained pink by algae. Forests comprised of just one tree and diminutive flowers with digestive maws.

From book to book you’ve torn, indulging your curious brain in every last little wonder of the world- from glacial peaks to crystal caverns.

How many pages have you worn away by now, dreaming of wonders far beyond your reach? How many dreams has your mind spun, longing for something new? How many times have you lost the world to a lovely little daydream that took hours to shake?

A less generous eye would view this behavior as unhealthy. They might even refer to it as a ‘coping mechanism’, spending half the day locked into a foggy haze, pretending that life was more exiting, more fulfilling.

Even you had come to realize the inherent instability of your constant stupor, eventually.

All you have to do to fix this problem, then… is make those dreams a reality!

…right?

Right! No time to waste worrying!

Packing is easy! It used to be a time-killer of yours as a child, pretending to go on adventures across the world with only your trusty well-stocked backpack. All these little games were played out under the watchful eyes of your fathers, ensuring your fun never turned dangerous or led you somewhere that was off-limits.

You’d pick a locale and prepare for an ‘expedition’ with snacks and clothes, always running and asking Bába to open the pantry for you.

“A winter adventure,” Sun Wukong would lovingly coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Sounds like fun, bud! Don’t forget to pack your warm socks, kay?”

He’d laugh and play along, pushing sandwiches and chocolate protein bars into your hands, always with a pouch of juice to pair. Sometimes he’d go the extra mile of bagging them up, giving you a paper sack that wouldn’t be out of place on a field trip.

(How often you begged to be enrolled in school, physical or at least online. And your fathers would ‘tsk’ and shake their heads, but quickly promise you ice cream as a bandage balm for your youthful sorrow.)

And then he’d watch your little journeys with a quirked eyebrow, smiling as you pulled your plushes (given that you had no playmates outside of base simians and your often busy fathers) along and narrated your games.

You’d fill out a page in your bulky journal detailing the ‘journey’, consigning your little hours of make-believe to white pages.

And as you had grown, that many-paged journal stayed tucked under your arm, all your thoughts and hopes written away into it.

Even now, as you stare out at the endless horizon so plainly in front of you- the book is held to your chest, warmed by the excited beat of your heart.

It holds all those dreams you’ve dreamt for a full decade now, each one precious and utterly perfect to your nostalgic mind.

The grass is long and bright, glistening with morning dew. It sparkles under the rising rays of the sun, a picturesque landscape laying in front of you. Flower Fruit Mountain (Mount Huaguo, as your fathers sometimes called it) was beautiful. Is beautiful. But pretty can only satiate the mind for so long, and certainly couldn’t fulfill your wanderlust any longer.

You had explored every cave, climbed every tree, mucked every puddle, cuddled every monkey.

It had been nice. And you’d miss it, but-

The world was waiting!

And you could wait no longer.

Stuffing the oversized book into your backpack, you do the one thing you’ve wanted to do for years- and take off running.

Lush grass rips under your feet, laying in scattered half-length piles as your boots tear across the wet ground. Muddy footprints squash down flowers and weeds alike, nothing stopping your gleeful dash.

Over puddles and through tree crooks, beneath towering canopies and across deep ponds- you run. All that hampers you is the heavy bags strapped to your back and waist, full of the supplies you once only dreamed of handling during a journey.

A real, actual journey! How long had you waited?! Years and years! And it was finally coming true!

But you turn the corner of a rock too quickly, and smack head-on into something solid and warm, the figure grasping you tightly.

And all too suddenly, one of your fathers- Macaque- stares down at you, clearly displeased.

“Explain,” he sharply says, holding out the note you had left on the dining table, unfolded and excitedly penned. It had been written in such a rush of gleeful adrenaline that some parts are nigh-unintelligible.

But; even with wild pen scrawl and joyful errors, it was clearly an intended farewell.

The claw marks shredding through half of the paper is proof that he hadn’t exactly taken the notion well.

“Y/N. What the hell is this? You’re running away?”

“N-no! I’m just-“

“Do you think this is how it all works? You throw a note on the table and head out into a world you know nothing about?”

“I do know about the world! I’ve been researching it for years!”

“Your ‘research’ doesn’t mean a thing! You have no skills, no experience, nothing!”

“Because you won’t let me do anything!”

The accusation causes him to bristle in anger, lips pulled back as he snarls. His fangs, glistening and sharp, draw your attention.

(Sometimes you forget what Macaque has done. How scary he can be. Sometimes you forget that he’s never regretted his crimes. Moments like this are happy to remind you.)

Your bravado and boldness vanish startlingly quickly, shrinking under the furious gaze of the simian.

The Six-Eared simian snags your wrist, stomping over to a cavernous rift of shadows. With your arm held tight, he jumps in and drags you along.

You fall from a ceiling and into the waiting arms of your other father, Wukong. He grins and nuzzles the fur of his cheek to your own, relishing in the warmth of familial closeness. A golden brazier burns next to him, recently lit and brightly chugging the wooden fuel within.

“Someone was up to a little bit of mischief, huh?”

His reaction is the polar opposite to Macaque- where his husband blows up and seethes, the Great Sage lies to himself and pretends that everything is okay. It’s easier to think of his child as a little imp than an outright runaway.

As Wukong dotes, Macaque rips away the thick jacket and boots that you were wearing, throwing them into the nearest closet.

You didn’t need them, after all. You weren’t going anywhere.

Though a part of you is disgruntled to have some of your clothing torn away so suddenly, it’s only when he snatches the backpack that you scrabble from the Great Sage’s arms.

“Don’t mess with that!” You call, trying to wrangle the bag from his grip- but he’s got your journal before you manage to pry it free.

He holds the gargantuan journal, full of all the dreams you had through your life- to see snow penitentes, to view miscolored lakes, to visit ancient forests, to explore the world that had been kept from you for so long.

“This is what gave you those ideas? Your little baby book, kiddo?”

“It’s not-“

“Shut it! You tried to run away. You don’t get to speak right now.”

He takes a moment to breath, glaring at the offending journal. To him, the answer is clear- get rid of the book, and he’ll get rid of your silly ideations of “freedom”. If it comes undone to the very binds, then maybe you’ll give up on leaving and return to the cozy schedule your fathers adhere you to. Forehead kisses and morning cuddles, shared meals and long naps through the cold of winter.

Without it, his life will go back to being perfect, and to an obsessive villain like Macaque?

A little bit of your sorrow is worth the happiness that keeping you close brings.

“Enough of these pointless dreams.”

The Six-Eared Macaque stands to his full height, the multicolored glow on his ears fading to black as his eyes burned red. With one angry sling, he throws your book into the deepest ashes of the gilded brazier.

It catches quick, melting and warping for just a brief few milliseconds before incinerating.

You stand there for a moment in sheer disbelief, watching as a decade of heartfelt writing crumbles away in seconds.

The raw, unspeakable hurt it produces leaves you breathless and mute, incapable of summoning even a single sorrowful word.

Macaque staggers back as tears bubble up in your eyes- even the villain himself has realized that this was a step much too far. His intention; as often to the innocent and undeserving, was to inflict suffering.

Even his own family wasn’t off the table.

His sable hands are much too slow in retrieving the book from uncaring flames, snagging only an empty cover now bereft of inner pages.

Ruined. Utterly ruined and destroyed.

The slow realization that you’ll never have back your childhood journal, never read again your years of games and research, never write another word in the precious book, never finish it- never, never, never, never, all in a devastating row.

The realization sinks in slow, but clicks into place all the same.

A low whimper builds in your throat, slowly pitching up as wetness spill down your cheeks. So many tears fall that they blind your vision, pairing well with the sobs that escape you.

Wukong glares at his partner with boiling eyes, a look of outright hatred in them. “Macaque. What. The. Hell.”

“…they h-had to learn a lesson,” he weakly justifies, his cowardice bubbling up in full force.

Run from Five Phases Mountain. Run from the Brotherhood. Run from Wukong. Run from the Lady Bone Demon. Run from the Samadhi Fire. Run from consequences and run from heroes, and pray that everyone forgets how badly he deserves to be punished for his cruelty and arrogance and sins.

Still a little rat, slinking in the shadows.

“Get out,” the Great Sage snarls, fangs dripping with immeasurable hatred, and, as ever, as always-

Macaque runs.

Wukong turns to you as his pitch husband bolts, throwing off his chest-plate and wrapping his unfathomably powerful arms around your quivering form.

He’s warm, much like a spring of volcanic water, or sun-kissed wood.

Or a raging, burning fire.

You don’t really want to be warm right now.

But the ferocity with which you pound his chest and gut leave the simian utterly unfazed, shushing and hushing you all the same.

“Shh, pumpkin, shh. You know your Bába hates to see you cry. C’mon, let’s dry those tears. Y’know what? How about we get you some ice cream, bud? Something sweet and cold to make you feel better.”

Wukong doesn’t wait for a response. He rarely does. The immortal boosts you up into his arms, heading to the kitchen. He kisses your cheeks and forehead and the bridge of your nose, trying to placate your tears with an overdose of physical affection.

This was your life. Your world.

And you were starting to doubt that you’d ever leave it.

[fanfictionalraven]

Unforgettable

Title: Unforgettable

Song Inspiration: Unforgettable by Thomas Rhett

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2,822

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published January, 2018. Flashbacks in italics.

You knew it was stupid to be mad. You weren’t exactly in a “normal” relationship. Dean wasn’t the roses, chocolates, or candle-lit dinners type. And, to be fair, you’d never really considered yourself the type to want those things either. You knew it was stupid to be mad. But, dammit, you couldn’t help it.

One year ago today, you and Dean had met and the chemistry was instantaneous. It had been a great night, the best night of your life honestly. The next day, he brought you back to the bunker and you’d never left. You’d never really defined the relationship, it was a sort of unspoken but obvious dedication.

So maybe it was a little unfair to expect any form of “anniversary” celebration or gifts. But was some form of acknowledgment too much to ask of whatever it was you had? Probably.

You groan and lay your head on the library table. Sam, sitting directly across from you with a lore book, was oblivious to your internal argument. He looks up now.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head, not moving it from the table. “What’s up?” You can hear the laughter in his voice.

“What are we?” You ask. There’s a moments silence before Sam speaks again.

“Well – we’re hunters,” he says. You sit up and narrow your eyes at him. “What?” He asks, laughing again.

“Me and Dean. What are we?” You ask again. His laughter stops and confusion spreads across his face. “Are we boyfriend and girlfriend? Are we friends with benefits?”

“Pretty sure you should be having this conversation with Dean,” he tells you, looking back at his book. You groan and lay your head down again. “Why is this suddenly bothering you?”

“Because I can’t decide if I have the right to be mad that he doesn’t remember we met a year ago today,” you admit. Sam starts to laugh again and you sit up quickly.

“He forgot your anniversary, huh?” He asks. You shush him quickly, looking over your shoulder. Dean had been in the garage most of the morning working on his car but he could come back at any moment. “Look, Y/N, I’ve never seen Dean like this with anyone. Ever. You mean more to him than I’m sure he’s said. But he isn’t used to the whole relationship thing. I’m sure he’ll come around though.”

“Hey, Sweetheart. Can you come down here?” You hear Dean call from the hall. You sigh as you stand and start down the corridor. Of course, you had been overreacting. You knew how much Dean cared for you, even if he never said it. And you didn’t need a day set aside for him to prove it more.

You stop short at the entrance to the garage and smile. Dean is leaning back against the hood of the Impala, his hands shoved down in the pockets of his jeans. He’s wearing your favorite of his flannel shirts, the one that makes his eyes pop a little more. It was the same one he’d been wearing the night you met.

You’d rolled into Lebanon, Kansas earlier that day, having found a case. It was an easy one. Open and shut. A vengeful spirit terrorizing a local family. You’d already worked out who it was and were just waiting for the cover of night to go salt and burn the body.

While you were waiting, you’d decided to hit a local bar. The one you picked looked like just the perfect mix of seedy and respectable. You’d been sitting at the bar for over an hour now, nursing your second bottle of beer, when someone slides onto the stool next to you. A blue and green checkered flannel hugs the muscles of the man’s forearms in all the right ways as he flags the barkeep for a beer. You shake your head quickly, having to remind yourself why you’re here in the first place.

You allow yourself one glance at him and immediately regret it. He’s looking back at you with piercing green eyes, already mentally undressing you. You look forward quickly and take a long drink of your beer before turning to face him. He angles his body towards you as well, smiling in the most irresistible way.

“Look,” you start, avoiding his eyes. “I’m only here for work. I’m really not looking for a drunken one night stand.” They weren’t the words you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him where you were staying for the night but you knew you had to stay focused on the job and if he went back to your motel room you’d never want to leave again. The man laughs and you look up at him now.

“Okay number one, I’m completely sober,” he says before taking a long drink from his bottle. You feel your face heat up when he runs his tongue over his lips. “And B, I’m not looking for a one night stand either.”

“No?” You ask, tearing your eyes away from his lips. He smirks slightly and shakes his head.

“I’d need at least a week with you,” he says. You can’t help the laugh the erupts from you. He smiles as he watches you. “What do you say?” He asks. Before you can answer, someone else is tapping on your shoulder. You turn to find another man.

Under normal circumstances, those circumstances being the man you were currently sitting next to not being there, he would have been a perfectly attractive man. However, your present company seemed to make every other man on the planet pale in comparison. The new suitor smiles at you, a smile that would no doubt be dazzling if you hadn’t already seen the other man’s.

“Care to dance?” He asks, nodding towards the empty space in the room where one couple was drunkenly swaying to some song in their head. You could give him a simple ‘no thank you’ but quickly decide that wouldn’t be any fun. Instead, you reach over next to you, placing your hand on the knee of the man beside you. You feel him twitch under your touch and fight not to smirk.

“Sorry. My boyfriend just got off work,” you tell him. Your ‘boyfriend’ waves at the other guy, a smirking playing at his lips. The man leaves you alone, quickly moving on to another girl in the room. A hand comes over yours and you look over at him.

“Can I at least know my girlfriend’s name?” He asks. You laugh and pull your hand out from under his.

“Y/N,” you tell him, picking your bottle back up. You feel his eyes on you as you take a drink. “Y/N Y/L/N. And you are?”

“Dean Winchester,” he says quickly.

“Babe?” Dean’s voice draws you from the memory. He’s standing in front of you now, a piece of cloth in his hands. You look at it then at him, raising an eyebrow.

“If this is a kinky thing, I’m not in the mood,” you tell him. He rolls his eyes.

“Will you trust me?” He asks. You smile a little and nod. He moves to stand behind you and carefully slips the cloth over your eyes. You sigh as he ties it in place. “Can you see anything?” He asks. You hear him moving back around you and can imagine he’s waving a hand in front of your face.

“Nothing. Dean, what’s this about?” You ask him. He chuckles and takes your hands in his, pulling on you. You take a couple of clumsy steps and hear the door of the Impala opening.

“It’s a surprise,” he says, guiding you carefully into the front seat of the car.

“You’re acting weird,” you tell him. You know he rolls his eyes again before closing the door. A moment later, the door on your other side opens and you feel Dean slide into the seat next to you. His hand comes to rest on your knee, the way it always does when you’re in the car together, before the car starts to move. His thumb rubs against your knee as he drives quietly.

“The Dean Winchester?” You ask, staring at the man next to you. He sits back slightly and nods. You’d heard plenty of stories about the Winchesters and all of their exploits. “I heard you were dead. Like – three different times.”

“Didn’t take. You’re a hunter?” He asks. You nod and look back at the bottle in your hands.

“Are you here for the case?” You ask. He sits back, shaking his head.

“No, actually we live just up the road,” he tells you. You look at him quickly.

“You live somewhere? Like…permanently?” You ask. He laughs lightly and nods, leaning forward onto the bar.

“Yea. Sammy and I have a place. It’s, ugh, an old bunker for a secret society that died out in the 50’s. It’s pretty awesome,” he says. You nod, mulling this over for a moment. “So what’s the case?” He asks, looking back at you now. You shrug and glance at the window.

“Vengeful spirit. Wanna go on a salt and burn with me?” You ask, smiling at him. You knew you could definitely use the muscle. It would take you all night to dig the grave up on your own. But with Dean’s help you could be done in a few hours and maybe even have time for a little something else. Dean smiles as he watches you, as though reading your mind and nods.

“My car’s parked out front,” he says. You smile widely and quickly finish off your beer. Dean tosses some cash onto the bar before rising to his feet and holding a hand out for you. You take his hand, your fingers interlocking, as he pulls you from the bar.

You feel the car come to a stop and cut off. The driver door opens then closes and a moment later your door opens. Dean’s hand takes yours and he carefully helps you from the car. You can smell the dirt and feel the soft earth under your feet.

“Dean, where are we??” You ask, sighing. He stops you by placing his hands on your shoulders from behind. He reaches up and pulls the blindfold off. You blink against the late evening sunlight and look around. It was a sight you knew well but you were very confused as to why you were here. “A cemetery? Are we working a case?” You ask, looking back at Dean. He rolls his eyes.

“Not just any cemetery,” he says, turning you to face the graves again. You sigh as you look around before breaking into a wide smile as it hits you.

“Our first date,” you say as his arms snake around your waist.

You’re sitting on the edge of the hole you and Dean had been working on for some time now. He’s shed a couple of layers, his jacket and flannel shirt, leaving himself only in the tight black t-shirt that clung to him with sweat. You bite your lip as you watch him move another shovel full of dirt out of the hole.

“Ya know, as much as I love that you’re checking me out right now, we could be done if you’d help,” he says suddenly, looking over at you. You blink then smile coyly and shrug.

“Well, you’ve been trying to show off this whole time I thought I’d finally let you,” you tell him. He stops and turns to face you, resting his arm on the standing shovel.

“It is working?” He asks with a smirk. You shake your head as you look him over. Pushing off the ground, you slide down into the grave and walk over to him.

“I mean, if I had a thing for the sexy, bad-boy hunter with a heart of gold, maybe,” you say. He throws his head back laughing and you suddenly realize you could spend the rest of your life watching him laugh. You quickly shake away those thoughts as you reach for the shovel. You dig into the dirt and hit something hard instantly. Looking back at Dean, you smirk, “Finished.” His eyes narrow and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you kneel down and wipe the dirt from the top of the coffin. With Dean’s help, you pry open the top half of the casket.

“Well, there she is,” he says, pointing to the old bones.

Dean climbs out of the hole then offers you a hand. You take his hand and allow him to pull you out as well. Your pour the salt over the remains as Dean dumps the gasoline in. You pull the box of matches from your back jean pocket and strike one on the side of the box before dropping the lit match into the open coffin.

“So,” Dean starts as the flames engulf the body. You look over at him. “You think I’m sexy.” You roll your eyes and grab two fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him into a deep kiss quickly. His hands find your waist instantly as his lips move against yours. You pull away from his lips abruptly and take one of his hands in yours, pulling him away from the burning grave and back to the Impala parked a few yards away. “Are we leaving?” Dean asks, a hint of disappointment in his voice. You laugh lightly and open the back door before sliding in.

“You coming?” You ask, looking out at him when he doesn’t follow. He stares down at you in disbelief before shaking his head and getting in quickly, closing the door behind him. You move into his lap, straddling his waist as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Ya know, I’ve got a bed back at the bunker,” he says, his fingers grazing the skin at the edge of your shirt. You smile and lean in, kissing his lips briefly.

“We’ll get there eventually,” you tell him. He smirks slightly.

“Oh?” He asks. You laugh lightly and nod, running your fingers against the back of his neck.

“Well, yea. You said you’d need at least a week with me, right?” You ask. He blinks and his smirk turns into a wide smile.

“I did say that,” he says, nodding. You smile and lean back in to him, pausing just before meeting his lips again. He chuckles and shakes his head. “I think I’m gonna marry you someday, Sweetheart.” You let out a laugh before kissing him.

Dean’s lips graze against your cheek gently and you smile, running your hands over his arms. He squeezes your waist slightly before turning you around to face him. You bite your lip and look down.

“I didn’t think you remembered,” you confess. He smiles before his lips find your forehead and you look back up at him.

“I remember everything about that night. I remember what you were wearing, what you were drinking. I remember the entire conversation on the way to the cemetery. I remember that first kiss and then you taking charge like you did. I remember taking you back to the bunker and staying up all night just talking. And the next morning, we made breakfast together and you met Sammy,” he says, his eyes soft as he watches you. You swallow hard, suddenly on the brink of tears. “And you stayed for a week.”

“And that week turned into two which turned into a month,” you say, laughing lightly. Dean smiles and his lips graze down the bridge of your nose.

“And a year later, here we are,” he says, his voice soft. You smile and close your eyes, standing there in his arms. His lips brush against your cheek before coming to rest next to your ear. “I love you,” he whispers. Your smile somehow manages to grow even wider as you lean away from him slightly. He’s watching you again, afraid he’s stepped too far. You stand up and press your lips against his in a soft, tender kiss. You feel him smile against your lips before you pull away.

“I love you too,” you tell him. He lets out a breath and you laugh lightly. “Did you think otherwise?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re too good for me. It would make more sense if you didn’t,” he says. You roll your eyes at him before running your fingers into his hair.

“I moved in with you pretty much after one night together. I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him. He smiles and nods slightly.

“Well that’s good, cause I meant what I said a year ago,” he tells you. You raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m gonna marry you someday.” You laugh again before pressing your lips against his, hoping it wouldn’t take him a year to get around to that too.

[rainintheevening]

Peter writes home from the battlefield every chance he can.

Lucy's letters are full of barely rhyming, rambling poetry, talk of stars and trees and any plants or animals he's seen. He puts in all the words that will never describe any of this, but still there is a great sky above him, and a big heart in his chest, and he hopes she will understand. She could if anyone can.

To Edmund he sends the muddy, bloody, wobbly-writing letters, the ones with rambling memories of Narnian battles and strategy, though he takes care to phrase it as 'playing in the woods', not wanting the censors to get leery. There are also many theological musings, and usually the continuation of whatever Bible verse Ed has sent in his letter. I wish you were here, and yet I am glad you are not, is a sentiment oft repeated.

Susan and Mother usually get the same letter, little stories of kindness shown or soft things appreciated. He asks them for more socks for Jackie, an extra bar of chocolate for Hamish, tells them how he's gotten his whole unit to memorize the Jabberwocky poem, and they make each other smile with it.

Dad is usually named with Susan and Mother, but sometimes he gets an extra scribble, usually a single scripture reference, or the name of a local boy now dead, and a few things Peter asks him to go tell the family.

Eustace gets the occasional missive folded in with the rest, usually sketches of aeroplanes, with which Eustace is fascinated, though they aren't very good sketches. If there's a sketch for Eustace, there is usually also a sketch for Jill, something Narnian, a sword or a forest or a castle.

Professor Kirke only gets occasional letters, usually short and to the point, but written in particularly formal language, as of a king writing to a dear advisor.

They all write to Peter.

Professor Kirke sends exerpts of whatever philosophy or theology or history books he just happens to be reading at the time he remembers to write. Sometimes it seems very random to Peter, but he loves it.

Eustace's letters are infrequent, but burst with colourful descriptions of his school life that make Peter laugh.

Dad usually just scribbles scripture references at the bottom of Mother's letters. Susan signs those too. Mother's letters are full of ordinary home life, rich with the warmth of hearthlight and fresh baking and good books and comfortable chairs and a much loved old quilt. She says what everyone is doing much more clearly, tells how the garden is coming in.

Mother and Susan are also very good at writing to the boys who don't have anyone to write to them. (Peter has a picture of his family, and everyone in Peter's unit thinks Susan is the prettiest girl in Europe, that she should be a queen, but they all watch what they say around Peter, they know how he feels about his sister's honour. But it really does bring up morale.)

Edmund doesn't usually say a lot, but he's regular, always engaging with whatever musings Peter put in his previous letter, making some of his own references to Narnia, usually to things Oreius taught them, and always concluding with a Bible verse. Half the time Ed absently addresses the missive To High King Peter, my brother... He never actually says I'll find you when I join up, I promise, it's just sort of there, between the lines.

Lucy's letters are like blue sky and fresh air and a fierce hug. Sometimes Peter can almost smell Narnia on the paper. They're not long, but she says I love you all the time, and talks of the weather and the flowers, and the girls at school who are struggling, and how she's trying to help them, and there's always a bit of poetry or a hymn that she's written, but it's actually good, compared to Peter's stuff. Courage, dearest brother, she always says. Remember the Lion, she always finishes.

Peter gets so many letters he has to start sending them back to his family for safe keeping.