#it kinda like dropping water on hot oil

[dontmindmejustafangirl]

Some people have to understand that shipping for others is like chemistry. Trying to mention BA under post about AB is similar to add water to concentrated sulphuric acid.

[theoutcastrogue]

I need to share this. (@st-just : hearty gruel alert!)

Red lentils. Boil them in a pot all by themselves, with salt, until soft. Skim the Bad Foam (or first wash them many times, until the water's clear). Set them aside.

Take a big skillet, and sauté in medium heat garlic with cumin, coriander seeds, mustard seeds, and ginger. Grate a tomato in there (or however you add tomato in sauces), add fresh parsley or coriander, and stir.

Drop in the red lentils with water, tumeric, lemon juice, AND TAHINI. Mix them together, let them cook for a few minutes more, stir until done. Adjust texture to taste basically, it's up to you if you'll eat with a fork or with a spoon.

Now serve. In the middle of the gruel, plop a spoonful of strained yoghurt, and slice some raw red onion around it. Drizzle some olive oil/lemon on top. Ready? CHARGE.

hot lentils (sans parsley, I was out) served in gruel form, a hearty meal for 1

Numbers (approximate), for 2 people

pot:

200 gr red lentils

7 minutes boiling

salt to taste

skillet:

2 cloves of garlic

1 teaspoon cumin

1/2 teaspoon coriander seeds

1/2 teaspoon mustard seeds

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger [I don't actually KNOW numbers for the spices, I'm eyeballing this; do what you will]

1 big tomato

salt and pepper to taste

+2 minutes stirring

skillet with the lentils:

~1/2 cup water (IF you've strained the lentils; I empty most but not all of the water from the pot, and then unceremoniously plop the whole thing in there)

1 teaspoon tumeric

4 tablespoons tahini

1/2 lemon

8 minutes cooking total

per serving:

1 hefty tablespoon yoghurt

1/2 small red onion

olive oil and lemon to taste

Feel free to play around with spices and seasoning. The only essential ingredients are the lentils, oil+tomato+cumin, and tahini+lemon.

It's completely feasible with brown lentils, except they take longer to boil. Basically this recipe combines the standard "brown lentils + tahini" with "red lentils + a bunch of spices".

If you have iron deficiency, the dairy will inhibit the iron absorption from the lentils, so either skip the yoghurt, or decide you're eating this because it's delicious, and not because it's good for your blood.

cold lentils ~8 hours later, now in spread-ish form, kinda like hummus. reheating not necessary, fantastic mezze for 2. lasts in the fridge for 3-4 days (just let it out to acquire room temperature first, and serve with yoghurt and onions again).

[archangeldyke-all]

Synced period sev save me, save me big baby sev, save me 🙏🏾

in all seriousness, my period dropped in the middle of me writing last night

so my request for the day is sevika actually being excited about syncing your periods because it means you guys have been around each other enough to link like that <3

LETS GOOOO i've been thinking about this ask since i first saw it.

men and minors dni

she'd come home and find you curled in on yourself on the couch, groaning as you hold a hot water bottle to your abdomen.

her first reaction is pity, as it always is when she finds you suffering from cramps.

but then, she remembers that she's on her period too.

and a grin breaks across her face.

"fuck are you smiling at?" you ask grumpily, pouting at your girlfriend. she giggles and runs over to flop down on top of you. you laugh, your girlfriend's joy infectious as she nuzzles against your neck and presses kisses to the sensitive skin there.

"you got your period?!" she asks, elated. you chuckle at her expression.

"yeah. why're you so excited? thought you knocked me up?" you tease. she laughs.

"i got my period at work today!" she says, grinning. you blink up at her in confusion.

"so?" you ask.

"so!?" sevika asks, gobsmacked. "so we're synced!" she says, grinning.

you laugh and pull her down for a kiss.

"you're ridiculous." you say. she laughs on top of you, reaching down to re-arrange the hot water bottle so it's squished between both your stomachs, both of you sighing at the relief the warmth brings.

"babe, it's so fuckin' romantic." she insists as she settles back down on top of you. you wrap your hands around her, rubbing her lower back, knowing it always aches during her period.

"it's a little too gross to be romantic." you say.

"no it's not! our bodies are so used to each other that we're literally, physically on the same page now. i always knew we were perfect for each other, and now we got the proof!" she says.

you burst into giggles, your grumpiness melting away at your girlfriend's excitement.

"okay, okay. i guess it's kinda romantic." you say. sevika grins and kisses you.

"take out for dinner?" she asks. you nod.

"somethin' greasy."

"duh."

you guys would be so cute, trying to take care of one another at the same time.

sevika'd bring you pain killers and forget to take some for herself, so you'd bring her some.

you'd make her her favorite meals and buy her a fresh bottle of her favorite whiskey, and she'd come home that night with grocery bags full of your usual cravings swinging on her wrists.

she'd buy you guys a big, bed sized towel, so you could both sleep on the same towel together in case of any night time leaks.

sevika's worst symptom on her period is her migraines. yours are your cramps.

your solution to this is to have sevika lay her head on your chest while you massage her neck, her body heat keeping your lower stomach nice and warm. the two of you can be found laying like this in bed almost every night you're bleeding, in a dark bedroom with lavender oil diffusing around you, soft music playing as you cuddle.

(also, syncing means that you guys ovulate at the same time, if you know what i mean, wink wink)

the more months that go by with the two of you synced, the more you realize she was right. it is pretty romantic.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hello!! I was wondering if I could sum it a request for the 1000 followers celebration post?!

It would be Mr. Opie Winston. And the prompt “you’re covered in motor oil, it’s kinda hot” with some good ol’ smut please and thank you?

Masterlist

Good Honest Work

Contains: Fluff, smut.

1.1K words

The average shower lasts about eight minutes and the average shower head has a water flow of 2.1 gallons per minute.

The sound of the Jazz playing in the kitchen as you cleaned somehow matched perfectly with the way the noise of Opie's power tools floated in from the garage.

He had been in there working on that old bike for weeks, his hands growing more calloused as time passed and you could see the pride written on his face as it came together.

The sound of the door opening pulled you away from the crumbs in the fridge, "Can you grab me a beer?"

You reached to the top shelf and spun around as you passed the beer to Opie, "How did you do today?"

He nodded, "Great, it's coming together really well."

You sighed as you took in his appearance, "I'm working hard to keep the house clean and you're dragging garage junk inside."

He looked over himself and frowned, "I can go change if you want?"

You nodded, "I mean, you're covered in motor oil, it's kinda hot but yes please." You held up a finger as an idea occurred to you, "I'm almost done here anyway. Let me finish wiping out the fridge and then we can shower together?"

He flopped down and the chair and sipped his beer, "Sure, can I help?"

You shook your head, "No, you're messy."

He chuckled, "You love it."

"Yes I do, but don't you dare spread your mess anymore. In fact, the prospect better be down here to make that garage spotless when you're done with that bike. I don't want to get motor oil all over me when I go in there for light blubs of some shit like that." If you knew Opie at all, it would be clean anyway.

Opie smiled slightly and gave you a nod, "Yes ma'am."

It only took a few more moments for Opie to finish his beer and you to finish the fridge. He placed his hand on your lower back as you made your way to the bathroom. You stopped in the middle of the room to strip him of his dirty clothes and Opie did the same for you, his hand drifting over your skin as he went.

You took his hand, walked him into the shower and made sure the water was perfect. Opie climbed in after you and you picked up the fancy olive oil soap and started by washing the motor oil off his hands and arms. You moved to his chest next and Opie's eyes closed as you gently scratched his skin.

He stopped you, taking your hands in his before spinning you around, grabbing your loofa and taking to soap off you, "It's no fun if you get don't get soapy too."

You sighed, "Yes, you're right." His fingers dug into your flesh as he rubbed out the knots in your muscles, "Oh boy that feels nice."

Opie chuckled, "I bet it does." He picked up the shower head and washed the lather off your back, "Turn around."

You did as he asked and a smile grew on his face as he suds up your breasts, "Did you just offer so you could touch my tits?"

He shook his head, "That wasn't the only reason."

He was half hard when you looked down and you met his eyes with a smirk, "Why don't we finish up here and pick it up where we won't end up with a head injury?"

Opie nodded, "Sure." The rest of the shower went by in a flash and then you stepped out as Opie wrapped a towel around your body.

Once you were both dry, Opie took your towels to the hamper and dropped them in before talking back towards you, "Have I told your you're pretty today?"

You nodded, "Yes, when we got up this morning, my hair was a mess and I had goop in my eye."

He stroked your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you, "Well I'm going to tell you again, you're very pretty." You craned your head and his lips met yours as he walked you towards the bed and Opie pulled back and licked his lips, "Let me show you."

You fell back on the bed and shifted your way up onto the pillows as Opie's lips met your neck, his bread scratched your skin as he kissed his way down your body, stopping to lick your nipples on his journey.

Opie lifted your legs over his substantial shoulders and pressed his lips to your inner thigh as he kissed his way towards your core. His lips were gentle as he kissed your slit and he groaned as as your hips twitched when he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit and back again.

You woved your hands into his hair and held him to your body as he moved one of his huge hands from your beasts to your entrance. His lips sealed around your clit as he slid two fingers inside you. He went slow as first, his fingertips searching until your breath caught in your throat, "Found it."

"It's in the same place it's always been Ope." He didn't give you the chance to quip further as he stroked your G-spot and used his free hand to pull you so close you wondered how he could breathe.

You started to flutter around him and Opie doubled down, pressing your G-spot firmly as his plump lips worked in your clit. His free hand moved from your thigh to over your hips to hold you down as you reached the edge and with one last brush of his fingers, you were clenching around them while you moaned out his name in an almost pained whimper.

You let out a shuddering breath as Opie pulled his fingers away then he was kissing back up your body to your mouth. His hand was gentle on your cheek as he kissed you and you could taste yourself on his lips as he deepened the kiss.

When you went to reach down Opie's body to grab his hard cock he stopped you with a head shake, "Hey, I didn't to do it because I wanted anything back. You've been working on the house all day, I did it to say thank you for how wonderful you've been."

You nodded softly, "Ok, thank you."

Opie smiled and brushed your nose with his as he pulled you into his arms, "How about we have a nap then I'll take us out from dinner?"

"That sounds really nice." His arms were so warm.

Opie sighed and pressed his lips to your temple, "I love you y/n."

You returned the gesture, then nestled into his strong arms, "I love you too Ope."

Fin

[ravenrune]

Quick and simple Carlos x reader fic. No warnings. Domestic fluff. 739 words.

Enjoy?

Sorry, no title. I couldn't think of one.

Carlos was sitting at the table, staring outside. He was bored beyond belief, and you wouldn’t be home for another half hour. He had the day off, but everyone he could’ve been hanging out with was at work, so he just spent the entire day alone.

He’d already cooked and cleaned the kitchen, and now he didn’t know what to do.

Feeling a bit restless, he got up and walked upstairs. Maybe there were some chores left unfinished, and he thought it would be nice to have them done before you’d get home. At least then, you two would get to spend the evening together without having to worry about boring housework that had been left unfinished.

After he had made his way into the bathroom, an idea popped up in his head. Carlos knew you’d be tired when you got home. He knew your feet would be hurting because you’d be walking a lot at work today.

So, what could be better than taking a nice, hot bath after such a long day at work?

He wouldn’t mind taking a bath himself, either. He hadn’t been too busy, but the mission he’d been sent on about a week ago still had his muscles aching on random occasions.

Pleased with himself, he turned on the hot water and allowed it to slowly fill the tub. Considering the size of the tub, Carlos figured it should be done and sufficiently warm by the time you’d get home. After pouring in a little bit of lavender-scented bath oil, he went back downstairs and headed into the kitchen. Dinner could probably wait for an hour or two, but he did want you to have something to drink and snack on in the tub because you’d probably be ravenous.

You returned home while Carlos was upstairs, still setting things up.

“Carlos?” You yelled. “You home?”

“Right here, babe,” his voice came from upstairs. “You had a good day?”

You took off your jacket and dropped it on the couch. You’d put it away later. “Kinda?” You replied as you watched your man come downstairs. “It was rough, though. Way too much walking for a job like that.”

“I thought so,” Carlos said, walking up to you and pulling you into a warm embrace. “It’s nice to have you here again. I was getting so bored.”

“Hey, I just got back, I probably smell bad!” You protested, trying to step away from him.

Carlos laughed and didn’t let go. “Don’t care,” he muttered, burying his face in your hair. “Buuut if that bothers you, I got just the thing to make you a little less stinky!”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“Well,” Carlos stepped away and smirked. “I bought a pressure washer, so I guess I can try it out on you.”

“What? Do you know how cold that water is and how powerful those things are? We’re not doing that! I need my skin, you know?”

He laughed again. He loved teasing you; it amused him to see your reactions to the nonsense he’d sometimes come up with. “Nah, just kidding. I prepared you — I mean us — a bath.” He grabbed your hand and started dragging you towards the stairs. “Let’s go. It should be done by now.”

Glorious; after such a long day at work, that’s how it felt to get into the hot water. The warm water made you feel a bit sleepy, and you leaned your head against Carlos’ chest. “This is great,” you sighed. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Carlos smiled and placed his hands around your waist. “I figured you’d need it.”

“I guess I did.”

“Do you want a snack? Figured you’d be hungry, too.”

You laughed, looking at the snacks on the little side table next to the tub. “In a minute, I want to snuggle a bit first.” You hesitated for a second. It always felt a bit uncomfortable to bare your feelings to him, even though you knew he loved it whenever you did so. You always seem to know exactly what I need for some reason… I don’t really know what I’d do without you anymore.”

Carlos smiled as his heart filled with an overwhelming sense of joy. “Good thing you’ll never have to do without me then, huh?”

[brassharrier]

Hey everybody! Since I've recently crawled out of my cave of not doing minis stuff for too long, I've realized that a few skills have gotten rusty. Even some of the basic stuff has fallen out of my head at some point. To make the best of a slightly poo situation I've decided to get some of my journey to rediscovery logged online to share with people who may be new to the hobby or just looking for a new perspective on an established process. That's enough rambling for now. Behold! My first FSteaktorial: Basing with Coffee!

Paying for hobby sand can feel kinda silly, but sometimes that super fine gravel can look a bit off. This is extra true if you're working with smaller scale minis like Battletech. One common solution is used coffee grounds. Right of the gate, how coarse or fine the grind is will change the look. Fine grinds will look more like sand or dirt while coarse grinds will look rockier. I'm particular to a fine grind for most applications and I'd suggest it as a good starting point to work from.

Preparing the ground(s):

Prepare and pour your coffee as normal. Once you're done simply dump your coffee grounds into a hard container or surface in as thin of a layer as possible. Usually large food containers or a baking sheet will do. Let it dry for a day or two before putting it in a container for storage or application. I'm partial to empty spice shakers for most fine basing/flocking materials. You can put the coffee grounds away once they're dried without extra treatment. The process of making coffee will pull most of the oils out and the hot water will clean it up for you.

Preparing your adhesive:

Gluing the ground down is super easy. Grab an old brush that's flat and appropriately scaled to your intended model and base. The glue itself is just a watered down PVA. PVA is just your generic craft glue. You've most likely used it as a kid during whatever arts and crafts you've done. You'll want to add a drop or two of water at a time and mix thoroughly until it's a bit thinner than most minis paints out of the bottle.

Applying your adhesive:

Simply take your brush, scoop on some of the thinned glue, and apply it to the base. One thing to note is that glue isn't paint. For our purposes, you'll want a healthy layer. Don't worry, after a day it will dry solid. You don't need to apply perfectly either. The glue will take some time to dry and can be wiped off easily to clean up the edges of the base and model. Be sure to immediately rinse your brush thoroughly in water unless you want one giant bristle.

Applying the coffee/basing:

This is the satisfying part. Grab your shaker, handful of coffee, or application method of choice and give the base a nice healthy layer. Once you can't see the glue, tap off the excess and set it aside to reclaim or put it back in your applicator for use. Don't wipe off the excess just yet. Make sure the model is over a different surface and wipe the excess glue/coffee and wipe your cleaning tool (probably your finger) on a paper towel. This is important to avoid getting glue in your supply of basing material.

Letting the glue dry:

No, really. Let it REALLY dry. It's tempting to want to start putting paint to model, but the glue needs to be completely dry. You don't want to risk both brushing your fresh basing off the model and getting coffee lodged in your bristles.

Enjoy!

You're done with basing for now! Remember to blow off the excess coffee dust. You can add extra detail with rocks and bits, prime, whatever you want at this point. Even with just a quick prime, single base color, and a quick dry brush you'll get great results. Congratulations on your new awesome looking base, saved money, and even a teeny tiny effort of reclaiming waste! It's surprisingly durable as well due to the glue hardening.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Hey, dear! Could I get an extreme fluffy kinda steamy/suggestive Daemon x wife poc fem reader. In which they take a shower together, just all the intimacy of a couple after a long day of royal chores, just the two of them talking, teasing each other and enjoying the feeling of the hot, fragrant water and enjoying each other's presence. Entitled to words of affection, caresses, kisses, reader washing his hair, the two of them soaping each other, hugs and whatever else you want, please? (Sorry for my English)

❄️ DAY THREE OF COUNTDOWN ‘TILL CHRISTMAS ☃️

A/N: You’re English is perfect! Don’t apologize for that! I loved this request, just not having to have some over arching storyline was way less stressful and made this so easy to write. Simple fluff is very much appreciated. I hope I did it justice❤️ Taking Requests - link to the characters I write for. Masterlist

Word count: 902

Summary: The request perfectly sums it up lol

You stir in your sleep, feeling someone standing over you. Your eyes open when you feel your husband pick you up, one arm behind your shoulders and the other under your knees. “I’m so tired, what are you doing.” You pout. You throw your head back and close your eyes, not having the energy to argue with him.

“I know you had a long day, this will make sleeping feel even better.” He sets you down on a satin stool, removing the ties from your nightgown, letting it fall off of your shoulders. “Stand up, my sweet girl.” He says. When he calls you that, he knows he has you hooked.

You stand and let the dress hit the ground. Daemon takes your hand and leads you to the golden basin in the corner. You hadn’t noticed before, but it was surrounded by candlelight. Purple flower petals floated on the surface of the water. You don’t know how long you were asleep, but he did all of this so quickly. When you dip your foot in, it’s boiling hot, exactly how you like it. After fully submerging yourself you get hints of rose and lavender oil in the water.

You lean your head back and close your eyes, reveling in the warmth. When your peace is disturbed by your husband lowering himself opposite of you. “I thought this was my bath.” You say, selfishly wanting it all to yourself.

Daemon smirks at you, knowing you’d much rather prefer him to be in here with you. “You’re not the only one who had a long day.” He reaches over, grabbing a glass vile of sunflower seed oil, marked with the large yellow flower. He shakes a few drops onto his hand before reaching for your left leg. He evenly distributed the oil, and then massages it into your skin.

He does it so meticulously, paying extra attention to your knees and feet. He knew how important your bathing was to you. From the very beginning of your courtship he would wait around for hours while you readied yourself for a walk through the garden.

Your dark skin contrasted his, not only by color but softness. He knew how important it was to you to take care of your skin, and he appreciated the time you took on yourself everyday. “What happened with you and the king today? Any progress?” You say, loving the attention he was giving to your sore calves.

He shakes his head, switching to your other leg. “He won’t accept that a war is coming. He’s too old, and sick to care. That’s my fear.”. You suck on your teeth, your know Viserys, he would see the the truth soon enough.

“I promise you he is very aware that’s having a son shortly after naming his daughter heir, is bound to cause conflict. But you must trust your brother, I couldn’t imagine being king, what kind of stress that would cause.” You say, playing devils advocate for the king.

Daemon drops your leg into the water without warning. “Well why didn’t you marry him? Instead of letting a little girl take your place.” He was serious, he never mentioned your past, the reason you met each other in the first place.

You realize you may have overstepped in defending his brother. “Because, he’s not you.” You stand on your knees and waddle over to him. Placing your hands on his face, “I know you don’t want any casualties to happen, especially because it’s your own blood on the line. But you can’t let it weigh so heavily on your heart, some things are out of your hands, accept that honey.” You say, looking into his sad eyes.

He looks up at you and smiles, “You have a way with words, don’t you.” He says, not being able to focus on his brother, with you standing wet in front of him. You skin glows and glistens against the candles. He rakes his hands down your curves. “And you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve every seen.” He leans forward placing a kiss to your navel.

Your hands find their way to his long hair. “Lean back.” You know he needs this bath more than you do. You reach over for the small pitcher, holding it underwater to fill it up. “Close.” You say. Daemon closes his eyes and feels you slowly pour the warm water on the top of his head. You reach for a bar of lye, sudsing up your hands.

Daemon hums as you run you fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp along the way. You rinse and repeat, not questioning the blood staining the tips of his white hair. It was more than likely his own anyways. You cleaned up too many self inflicted bloody noses to know.

When you finish you move back in the water, finding your side of the tub again. “How did I get so lucky?” He says, pushing his wet hair behind his ears. “Well it wasn’t anything you did.” You say, not being able to contain your teasing laughter. “It was just you, you were it for me, the moment I saw you.”. Daemon lovingly looks across to you. He finishes your sentence. “, and I knew I had to have you.”.

You splash him with the water, blushing. “Seriously?” You say, knowing you reiterating what you said to him often before.

[plaguedoctormemes]

drop the chicken paprikash resippy 👀

caveat: I don’t use a lot a measurements and just use my eye/intuition/taste buds a lot, so if you need specific measurements you’ll probably be better off following a dedicated recipe online or comparing them to mine. Also, my recipe is by no means traditional as I am just a latino dude living in the southwest and i’m Not Hungarian in any way, and this is a riff off of my mom’s dish rather than the traditional dish itself. I also like to be really descriptive so there’s a lot of steps but this recipe is, in reality, mega easy lol. Okay-

This dish contains dairy. You can try dairy-free sour cream but I’ve never tried it. Lactose-free sour cream is a perfectly fine substitute though!

(Serves 4)

Cookery:

- a large pot big enough to line thighs on the bottom

- A wooden spoon or spatula to stir with, and tongs or something to take out the chicken with.

Ingredients:

- Chicken thighs with skins on (i really do not recommend skinless or substituting for breasts at all) enough for 1 or 2 per person

- 1 white or sweet yellow onion

- 3-4 cloves of garlic

- 5 large carrots, or two handfuls of baby carrots.

- 3 Russet Potatoes

- Sour cream (you can use 8 oz, i like to use 16oz because i always use a little more than half)

- Chicken broth (at least 4 cups, I used almost a whole 32 oz carton.)

- Any neutral oil (for frying), olive oil is ok though

- Salt and pepper

- Paprika (If you can get hungarian paprika that’s preferred, but otherwise dont sweat it. The dish is called Paprikash so make sure you have plenty)

- Cayenne pepper

- Dried red pepper strips (I happened to have a bag of them from Trader Joes. This is kinda optional but i liked it so much that i recommend it.)

Optional Ingredients:

- Any other vegetable you want (corn, peas, green beans or diced fresh bell pepper would be good!)

- Tony Chachere’s cajun seasoning (for seasoning the chicken, i put this shit in everything tbh)

- Parsley (for color)

Directions:

1. Season thighs liberally with salt, pepper (and tony chachere’s seasoning if available), allow to sit for 30 minutes or while you chop veggies.

2. Pre-cook the potatoes partway by using a microwave, oven, or cubing and boiling in water until almost done. I used a microwave since it’s much faster.

3. While potatoes are cooking, slice onion horizontally (into rings) or vertically (into strips), whichever you’d prefer. Slice large carrots into 1/2 cm coins or baby carrots in half. Smash and mince your garlic.

5. Blend entire bag of dried red pepper. It seems like a lot, but it’s not since peppers are mostly air now. If you don’t have a blender, use a mortar and pestle or put into a bag and smash the fuck out of those guys until theyre a powder. It’s okay if it’s not super duper fine. If you dont have dried red pepper, skip this step.

6. Whenever your potatoes are half done, take them out of whatever vessel you chose and carefully cut into large cubes (theyre probably really hot!)

7. At med-high heat, add a couple tablespoons of oil to your pot, enough to coat the bottom. Add your thighs skin side DOWN so that theyre in direct contact with the bottom. Allow the thighs’ fat to render out and the skin to brown a bit. It should take about 6 minutes. If the skin hasnt taken on a lot of color yet, that’s ok- allow a few more minutes and then flip the thighs. Allow the bottoms to cook for another 5 minutes in the rendered fat then remove.

8. Now put in your carrots, garlic, and onion in the pan to cook in the rendered chicken fat. Scrape whatever yummy brown fond has built on the bottom. Don’t sweat about scraping it all up, as youll get most of it later. Cook until carrots are softened but still a little firm and onions are starting to turn translucent.

9. Add your cubed potatoes in with the other vegetables, give them a toss, and take off of the heat so you can add the seasonings- papricka scorches easily. Most recipes use ~3tbs, I swear I always use more like 4. Also add in your powdered red pepper here, as well as 1 tbs of cayenne some more salt and pepper. Mix everything and bring back to the heat, which you will reduce to Medium.

10. Pour in your chicken broth, enough to submerge all of the vegetables. Add about 3 generous spoonfuls of sour cream, mixing it in so that the soup is now a creamy, luscious gravy. It’s important to not have the pot much hotter than Medium so that the sour cream doesnt curdle. This is a good time to do some extra fond-scraping if you couldnt get a lot earlier! The potatoes may soften and deteriorate, and that’s fine.

11. Re-place the thighs back into the pot as well, making sure theyre covered in the gravy. If the liquid doesnt cover the thighs, add some more chicken broth and sour cream until it does.

12. Chop up or tear up a handful of parsley and add.

13. Cover pot with a lid and allow everything to come back to a boil. Let everything mingle together for about 15-20 minutes, stirring occasionally. This will re-heat the thighs and finish cooking them. You can also taste the gravy for salt and adjust accordingly. This is also a good time to add some frozen corn, peas and stuff if desired.

And that’s it! You can serve this on top of egg noodles as well since thats pretty traditional, but the thighs and veggies alone with the gravy makes for a very savory and hearty dinner. Make sure you add another ladle-full of gravy on top.

This dish will result in something that sort of resembles a stew with a bright vibrant reddish zesty and creamy gravy, tender vegetables and juicy, tender chicken. The gravy should be chickeny, savory, and delightfully creamy. Paprika is already powdered red pepper, but I feel like adding just normal powdered paprika and then the freshly blended dried red pepper adds an additional fresh, sweet richness to the sauce. Thighs still have the bone in it, so i usually eat this dish with a fork and use my fingers to carefully tear the meat off the bone, and then just pick up the bone once it’s cooled off a little and gnaw on the rest of the meat and the softened cartilage.

My partner and friends really liked it. Next time we’re going to add some chipotle or southwestern red chile to it for some more spice and smokiness to try out.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Re that convo, if you’re in the mood for writing would you write Peter giving Lucian a stern talking to about 21st century hair care norms? Possibly followed by some help?

Any excuse to have Peter being a total priss about hair care cause he looks like the kinda person who spends way too long on his own.

On with the fic!

--

Peter found Lucian in the living room, he was polishing one of Peter's swords from the weapons room, probably more for looks than battle since it wasn't really ready to slice through a vampire. He coughed and then dropped the shopping bag on the couch next to the lycan, who looked at it, then looked up at the human. "Hm?"

"In this bag," Peter pointed at it, "contains the items I'm going to use to tame that mess you call hair."

Lucian peeked into the bag, and had the nerve to make a face. "My hair is fine, Peter. I used your fancy stuff with the... Moroccan oil? If that actually does anything for your hair."

"It does, it makes it nice and silky. And it's expensive, stop using my stuff! Also, I get the feeling that if it were up to you, you'd be one of those guys who uses the three in one stuff, that includes body wash."

The look on Lucian's face made Peter think that, yes, he had used that before. "Anyway! I got you some stuff that'll do wonders for your hair, along with some de-tangle spray and a strong hairbrush. And yes, it's a human one, though there were temptations to go to the pet section." Peter smirked and grabbed the bag.

"Bathroom, let's go!"

"Peter, my love, this is ridiculous. I don't need anything fancy or special, my hair is just a bit... different compared to yours. And besides, when I change into a lycan and back to human, it sets itself back to normal, no need to go through all the trouble."

"First of all, ew! No! You need to shower at least once a day! Second, just cause you're a magical wolf man does not give you the excuse to get out of washing your hair. Also, it's getting brushed whether you like it or not, woof man, now, to the bathroom! Let your boyfriend work his magic."

Lucian looked like he wanted to do anything that wasn't that. But he got off the couch and walked past Peter with a look. "Shower or bath?"

"Bath, I've got a lot of work to do and a shower is just too temptin'."

--

Lucian was cursing under his breath in thirteenth century Romanian as Peter rinsed his hair a second time. "I do not see the point of this, you just washed it."

"It needs a second wash, that leads to cleaner, softer hair." Peter informed him as he put a bit more of the floral scented shampoo in his hand and then started to rub it into Lucian's hair again.

"Are you working for some hair product agency?" Lucian asked as he closed his eyes, letting Peter work in the product. He didn't want to admit that it felt nice having Peter massage his scalp like this.

"Nah, not for the show, but on my youtube channel I get sponsors for fancy products that probably aren't as good for the environment as they claim to be." Peter snorted and then paused and his hands returned a moment later, with the conditioner from what it smelled like.

"Alright, time for the rinse, keep your eyes closed, babe." Lucian did as he was told, feeling the hot water pour over his head a moment later. Then a few more times before Peter grabbed for a towel to use on his hair and Lucian let out a growl when Peter started to roughly dry it.

"Oh shut up, wolfy, you have so much thick hair, it's got too much water in it still! Don't make me get my hair dryer!"

He soon finished and Lucian got out, grabbing for another towel to dry himself off as Peter drained the tub. "Are we done now? Happy that you've got this out of your system?"

"Ooooh, oh, we ain't done yet! We still have the brushing part to do! Get dressed and get comfy, this is gonna take a while."

A while was an understatement. Lucian had to sit through over two hours of annoying hair tugging and knot pulling before Peter finally set down the brush. "There we go! Finished! Did you know your hair is naturally fluffy? Shit, this is soft when you actually put effort into it."

Lucian scoffed and took a mirror that Peter held out for him and looked at his reflection. Actually, he did... look rather nice, it was good and fluffy and weirdly fit him as well as his normal style.

"It's nice." He said with a shrug, but Peter was smirking, knowing how he really felt.

"Yeah, of course it is. Now, try to keep your hair like this more often, alright?"

"I can't promise you that, but I'll try."

"At least stop stealing my shampoo and use the brush."

"Deal."

--

I have the exact same kind of hair as Michael Sheen and let me tell you, it's a pain in the ass to manage.

Would have finished this sooner, but I'm trying to make dinner at the same time as writing haha.

[bloodenjoyer]

butternut squash soup

recipe (more like a diary entry of how i made it lol) under the cut!! also warning this is not a quick recipe i started this whole process at like 2:30 and didnt finish the soup until abt 5:45 ish, didnt pull the bread out of the oven until abt 6:30. it was so worth it tho

Ok so basically i decided i wanted to make bread and butternut squash soup for dinner so i started by making the bread and followed this recipe. then while the dough was rising i started tackling the squash. i used a ~4.5 pound squash and started by cutting it in half and putting it in a bowl of water in the microwave for...idk six minutes each half? a bit more? just to make it softer. then i scraped out the guts and seeds (annoying and icky) and cut it into smaller pieces and peeled it with a carrot peeler. this takes a bit more effort than peeling carrots because the squash is hot and soft but also hard and weird and the skin is kinda thick. As i peeled each segment i cut them into smaller pieces and dropped them into a large pot on the stove to just kinda hang out on medium heat in a can of chicken stock, stirring each time i added more squash. i probs shouldve used vegetable broth but chicken stock is what i had so thats what i used.

once i added all of the squash (compost the skin btw!! i forgot to do that :/ ) into the pot, i squeezed a whole lemon into it. then i added like maybe five cloves of garlic cut into large pieces as well as some honey, cinnamon, cumin, lawrys seasoned salt, smoked paprika, lots of garlic powder and some cayenne pepper. stirred it again and then popped the lid on while i cut up two small onions. once i was done w the onions i rinsed out the bowl i originally microwaved them in and transferred the squash back into it.

i then put olive oil and a tiny bit of sesame oil (idk why) into the pan and let the onions fry up. to this i added: more cumin (fav spice ever <3), turmeric, herbs du provence (not sure what these are there just was a jar on the counter so i used it), and i also grated ginger into it. be careful not to let yr onions burn btw. Then once they looked like they had cooked down enough to fit into the bowl w the squash i put them in the bowl w the rest of the squash.

Next i made a béchamel sauce w coconut milk. i heated a can of coconut milk (obvs not the ACTUAL can i put it in a measuring cup and it came out to b abt 1 and 1/4 cups) in the microwave so it would be hot. then i put 2tablespoons of butter and 2tablespoons of flour in the pan. you gotta stir this constantly (its easiest if you use a whisk) so U dont accidentally make dumplings. once that starts getting thick and bubbling a little bit i added the coconut milk in increments, still whisking it the whole time. once that was done i lowered the heat so it wouldnt get curdled or dumplingy and added white pepper, sriracha sauce (first thing i saw when i opened the cabinet so i added it), more garlic powder and cumin bc i like those things a lot.

so then i finally added all the squash and onions back into the pot. i mixed it all in and then blended it w/ a handheld blender. if u dont have one u can just do all the squash ina food processor before adding it back to the pot and if you dont . Um try your luck with a potato masher i guess. EXCEPT i got scared while blending it on account of my pot was so wide and that meant the soup was just a BIT shallow. so i squoze a lime into it. that obviously wasn't enough and i added a bit more milk (cow milk, not coconut milk bc i didnt wanna open a whole nother can and i figured i had already put butter in it so who cares) and then blended it until it was smooth as i could make it. the blender pretty much made all the squash smooth but there were still unblended onions which personally i actually like.

then i finally tried it and it was soo fucking good oh my god.itwas so so worth it. i didnt use a recipe for this when i cook i just throw whatever into a pan and hope for the best but im writing it down bc i wanna make this again bc it was.very yummy.

anyway then i put a lid on the pot and let it hang out while i preheated the oven and baked the bread (which i also painted the crust w an eggwash and put a bit of salt on before sticking it in the oven) etc etc etc .

[balkanbitch]

Okay so like I kinda wanna write rottmnt fanfic but I'm to much of a pussy to do it soo I'm just gonna post my mikey angst ideas and see where I go from there

TW: accidental mutilation, kidnapping, manipulation, experiments (nothing graphic), passing out from exhaustion (idk if that needs a warning but I'll put it anyway)

Also I did not spell check

- mikey has been hiding the tremble in his hands which isn't much of on issue until mikey is making his first meal since the krang and the tremble in his hands causes him to drop hot oil all over himself

- similar to the last one but mikey has lost almost all feeling in his hands he can still move them just fine but he doesn't feel any pain in them. So during the first time he is cooking after the movie hes accidentally doing all sorts of things to injure his hands without realizing. Putting them in boiling water, leaving his bare hand on the heated stove top, cutting some skin off when chopping vegetables . Etc. Its not until he finishes making the meal that he notices and freaks out not because of the state of his hands but because he ruined his family first family dinner since the krang

- after the movie, draxum hears what mikey was able to do he freaks out and starts training mikey. The problem with that is that draxum keeps overworking mikey on accident fearing something bad may happen to him again and wanting him to be prepared. Mikey is becoming exhausted from all the magic and is barely keeping it together. But this does not come to a head until someone else in the family suggests Mikey shows them what he has been learning. Mikey pushes himself to do this but it ends up being the final straw and Mikey passes out.

- post movie mikey makes friends with bishop thinking he can help him become better similarly to how he did with Draxum. Bishop prays on his naivety to learn more about what Mikey is exactly. Sometimes guilting mikey in to experiments that he doesn't want to do (and leave him injured) and than give some small hint that he may becoming a better person so mikey keeps returning.

- very similar to the last one but mikey is kidnapped and experimented on for his magic powers

- some yokai in charge of a fighting ring (not the battle nexus)/rich aristocrats take notice of mikey high magic inhibitions and want to use them for themselves

[xltribe]

  Since my posts on the XLtribe are on Sundays it seemed only right to do a Sunday Sauce.  It's a rich and decadent recipe, full of meaty richness that only comes from slow cooking.  It's also fairly easy, and once you get the gist of it, highly customizable. So let's gather our ingredients and get right to it. 20 ounces of bone-in beef short ribs 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil 2 14 oz cans of diced tomatoes (I have a weakness for the fire roasted personally) 1 6 ounce can of tomato paste one large red onion (diced) one large sweet onion (keep dicing) 4 scallions (you're still dicing) 5 cloves of garlic (you guessed it...diced) 4 tablespoons of butter 2 cups of beef broth or 1 bouillon cube diluted in 2 cups of hot water salt and pepper fresh basil (optional)   Over high heat get that olive oil nice and blazing then add the short ribs.  You're looking to quickly sear the meat on all sides so that it's nice and brown.  Once seared remove the short ribs to a plate and lower the temp under the pot to medium. Add the onions, scallions, garlic to the pot, stirring to mix. Add a pinch of salt and pepper and let the aromatics caramelize but DO NOT BURN.  This is really the only dangerous point in this recipe, if the onions burn then the taste of the final sauce will be...you guessed it, kinda burnt and bitter. So be watchful of those onions son. Next, we'll deglaze the pot. I choose to deglaze with beef broth over water or wine because I wanted an even stronger and richer meat flavor.  Also by using the broth, I'll supplement some of the salt in this recipe. Once all of those bits are mixed together you can add the tomatoes, tomato paste and return the seared short ribs to the pot. Stir to mix, do a quick taste to see if the sauce needs any salt or pepper, then drop the heat to low and WALK AWAY.  You're going to let that sauce cook until the meat not only falls off the bone but becomes indistinguishable from every else in the pot. Seriously, go play some 2k, read a book or any of the other fantastic lifestyle articles on this website.  Come back to the pot in an hour or so to check on the sauce, add a little water if needed and walk away again until it's done. Once the sauce resembles this, then you can begin on your pasta. I want to say that I chose this artisanal pasta because of the quality of the brand or high-quality ingredients but in reality, I was walking through the grocery store and thought it looked like Sonic the Hedgehog.  I have no shame.  You can make this recipe with any pasta of your choice, don't follow me in this regard, I'm a food nerd.               Once your pasta is cooked to your liking, we're going to tie it together to the sauce so that the two mesh together. Add the butter to a frying pan over medium high heat, once melted add your pasta along with a splash of the pasta water and a few spoonfuls of the sauce. By doing this you create a dish where the sauce and pasta flow into each other rather having a sauce that just sits on top of a blandish pasta. Fill up your plate, pour some sauce on top and grate a bit of Romano cheese over it. Break out your favorite baguette and rip it apart in the French Fashion to sop up all that rich meaty deliciousness. Until next time, stay grumpy...   Thank you very much for reading this post and getting to the end. Don’t forget you can help support our brand by becoming a patron. Go to https://www.patreon.com/xltribe to join the movement. If you liked our article please share it on your social media channels to help get the word out. If there’s something you thought should have been added but didn’t please feel free to share your ideas in the comment box below. 

[michelleleewise]

Request!! I like asking the same kinda fic cuz I love certain tropes but I love seeing how different writers run with it.

Reader is sick, but Loki worries about them excessively due to the "ignorant alien boyfriend" trope.

🦄🦄🦄🦄

Ok...........here we go 😁 sorry if it's horrible @lokiprompts lol 💚💚

Take Care Of You

Pairing: Loki x gn reader

Warnings: mentions of illness (not covid), not graphic, none really, all the fluff

Summary: you come down with your seasonal cold, it's nothing new. But your new boyfriend believes you are on deaths door.

You rolled over, groaning as the light streamed in throught the curtain. You felt an arm wrap around you pulling you backwards. "Morning darling." Loki sighed, burying his nose on your neck. "M...morning Loki." You tried to say, your voice scratchy and hoarse. You cleared your throat as he shot up looking at you "What's wrong with your voice?" He asked watching you. "Nothing, it's just.." you started coughing, burying your face in your pillow.

"That is not nothing! What is wrong?" He demanded as he sat up rubbing your back. You lifted your head looking at him "I'm just sick, it happens every year." You sighed. You felt his cold hand on your forehead "You are burning up darling" He said getting up. "Lokiii I'm fine I promise. Couple of days I'll be all better." You tried to reassure him. You pushed the blankets off to get up when he pushed you back down. "You need to rest. I'll take care if you." He said wrapping the covers around you.

You groaned rolling your eyes. "Don't move, I will return shortly." He said before getting dressed and leaving. You sighed staring at the ceiling. You absolutely adored Loki, the way he took care of you, he would literally do anything for you. You just wished he didn't think you were going to drop dead any second when you got a runny nose. Another coughing fit started as Loki came back "Darling I made you some hot tea and soup. I am going to speak with Dr banner about your condition, I want that finished when I come back." He said setting the tray on the nightstand.

"Lo dear, you don't need to call Bruce, I promise I'll be fine." You told him sitting up. "I adore you my little stubborn mortal, but I am going to take care of you. Now eat. I will be right back." He said kissing your forehead. You couldn't help smile as he pulled his phone out calling Bruce. Who would have thought the man you demanded eveyone kneel, would be waiting on you hand and foot. No one had ever made you happier.

"Darling, I need to run to the store, will you be ok?" He asked walking around the bed. "Yes I'll be fine love." You smiled at him. "Stay in bed, I'll hurry." He kissed your head as he hurried out the door. You finished your soup as Loki returned, setting several bags on the bed. "Did you buy the whole store?" You asked, your voice raspy. "After speaking with Dr Banner, he told me some things to get for you." He said. You watched him pull out every kind of medicine you could think of, as well as a humidifier, cough drops, a hot water bottle, and several boxes of tea. "Lo, is all that really necessary?" You asked as another coughing fit started. "Absolutely, now first things first." He said rolling the sleeves of his shirt up he went to the bathroom.

He came back a few minutes later, pulling the blankets down, lacing an arm through your legs he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom setting you on the counter. "First, your going to take a hot bath, I added some oils to help you relax. Then I'll get you your fluffy sleep clothes, and get you back in bed." He said pulling your shirt off. "Lift up darling." He said as you held yourself up and he slid you sleep pants down. He then picked you up again, gently placing you in the tub. You sighed as you sank into the warm water, it soothing your aching muscles.

He grabbed the sponge, pouring some soap on it as he carefully cleaned you up. "Are you doing ok?" He asked lifting your leg up to scrub it "mmm hmm." You hummed hearing him laugh. "Ok, head back." He said as he poured the shampoo in your hair, massaging your scalp. "Keep your eyes closed." He said as he slowly laid you back, rinsing your hair. He rinsed you off, pulling the plug on the tub, grabbing a towel, he turned around, helping you stand wrapping it around you as he carried you back, gently placing you on the bed.

He went to the closet, coming back with you pajamas and underwear. He took the towel off you, drying you off as he kneeled down, sliding your underwear and pants on. "Stand up a second." He said, helping you up to pull your pants in the rest of the way. "I could have dressed myself love." You said watching him. "Nonsense, let me help you." He smiled, pulling your shirt over your head. He picked you up again, laying you in bed, tucking the blankets snugly around you. It took him a bit but he got the humidifier running, as he sat on your side of the bed "ok, sit up darling" He said pulling you up.

You took your medicine as he kissed your forehead again "your temperature has gone down, so that's good." He smiled, running his fingers through your hair as he laid you back down. "Will you lay down with me?" You asked looking up at him. "Of course darling, give me one second." He said getting up. You smiled closing your eyes, you had to admit the bath was exactly what you needed. You felt the bed dip as you turned your head, seeing Loki getting settled. "Lift up just a second." He whispered as you lifted your head he fluffed your pillow before pressing you back down.

"How are you feeling now?" He asked laying down facing you, his fingers slowly running through your hair. "So much better, thank you Loki." You smiled. "Anything for you my love." He said kissing your head. "Loki.." you sighed opening your eyes "I love you." You whispered as your eyes slipped closed. "I love you too my precious little mortal." He whispered back. You hated getting sick, but you knew when you did, Loki would always be there to take care of you.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

@vbecker10

[phantomrose96]

Joyrider

(Welcome to another warm-up writing piece. cw for mild body horror)

...

The mall food court doubled rather nicely as a battle-dome.

It fit the bill: a flat and circular arena, crowned two-stories up by a hemisphere of glass windows which lapsed iridescent in the maelstrom of ecto-fire.

Spectator chairs sat empty, hastily shoved back and knocked over by the Amity Park mall patrons who knew to leg it at the first sound of explosions and the first sign of the atmosphere tipping dark. Admittedly, the patron evacuation took longer than Danny anticipated, and he backed himself into a corner playing defense for the 50 some-odd people who, worn-out on the every-day mundanity of ghost alarms, took their time gathering belongings, or shutting off burners, or working in a few last bites of a burger.

So with the crowd gone and the stage their own, Danny found himself pressed back against a vat of french fry oil, hands braced against the handle of a broom he held out horizontally, which the ghost gripped with equal measure and shoved her full weight against.

“Oh, why not take a little dip, Ghost Boy? I hear the water’s nice.”

“No thanks,” Danny answered, shoving harder. “I never was much of a hot tub guy. You on the other hand—”

Danny set a foot forward and pivoted, body fueling the torque as he spun the broom, and tore the ghost with him, a pirouette to swap their spots and jam the ghost back-pressed to the fryer.

“—you seem like you’d like it hot.”

The ghost barked a laugh, jaw stretching lower and loose than Danny was comfortable with.

“Ha! You sure? Not very heroic of you to deep fry this girl I’m possessing.”

Danny faltered. His grip slipped. His blood chilled to ice as the information clicked in place – as he recognized the sensation of a ghost talking through someone. This wasn’t the ghost’s own form. This was some girl. How had he not felt—

A blast took him by the ribs. Danny doubled over, immediately kicked back. A foot found contact with his face, driving him down, until the girl’s wet and slippery fingers pinned him down by the wrists.

Danny strained. He could pivot his wrist a fraction of an inch left or right, but he could not break the hold.

“Get off me!”

And a voice answered from behind him.

“I can help with that.”

Danny craned his neck. Upside down, vantage point from the floor, he registered Sam’s combat boots slam into focus. She bent to one knee, a bazooka locked on the other. It charged, whined, and erupted with an explosion of green light.

The ghost shrieked. It took only an instant of resistance before the ghost tore cleanly from the girl possessed.

“Now if you don’t mind me—” Tucker, by the voice. Danny heard the whine of a Fenton Thermos heating up. “—I’d officially like to change my order from fries to soup.”

The beam burst forth, and the writhing, shrieking, yelping form of the exorcised ghost clawed and scratched in Danny’s direction before the thermos consumed her in full.

“Really? ‘Fries to soup’? Even Danny can do better than that.”

“Hey,” Danny answered.

“I was thinking on my feet, Sam. I didn’t hear any witty quips from you.”

The conversation fell away from Danny’s focus as the full human weight of the possessed girl dropped down on him. Gently, Danny gripped her by the shoulder, lifting her as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Your parents’ anti-possession gear is getting good. I don’t think I’ve seen an exorcism work that quickly.” Sam’s voice, now at his side. Danny glanced over, finding her kneeling beside him. “Is she hurt?”

Danny gave the girl a once-over. She was pale, cold, lips seeping blue. A mottled, blackish bruise spread across her temple, partially hidden beneath loose red bangs.

“I don’t… totally know. I didn’t land any hits on her, thankfully. But who knows what that ghost might have done. We should call an ambulance.”

“On it,” Tucker, from behind.

“Do you… do you think the bazooka might have hurt her?” Sam asked.

Danny shook his head. “Mom and Dad have blasted each other with that thing a hundred times. Dad got himself possessed by the box ghost for a trial run. It doesn’t hurt people. …Maybe she just needs a minute.”

“Lay her down, maybe?”

“Good idea.”

Danny eased forward, careful in his movements. Something about his grip slipped, sliding loose and rolling forward, and she fell unceremoniously from his arms, shoulder knocking ground as she lay there partially turned on her side.

“Danny!”

“Sorry! I didn’t—something slipped!”

“Well don’t leave her like—” Sam gripped a hand to the girl’s shoulder, weight behind her wrist to roll the girl fully onto her back. Sam’s hand froze, and then yanked away.

“What?” Danny asked.

“That didn’t feel right.” Sam only stared down, her hand hovering, twitching in increments. “Way too cold… and loose.”

“Loose?”

“Danny, look at her hands. What’s wrong with her hands?”

Danny looked. The skin stretched and wrapped the bones of her fingers as if rotated partway around. Her fingernails sat off-center, twisted around and bunched up like a glove. Sam’s hand came back into view, and she clamped it to the girl’s wrist.

“It’s like jelly. Danny it’s like jelly. Why is she this cold? Danny, I don’t think she’s—”

Something new caught Danny’s eye, a purple discoloration peeking out from the bottom ruffles of the girl’s shirt. His hands seemed to move on their own as he reached down, and pinched the bottom of her shirt, and pulled it back.

Black bruising consumed her torso, caving deep and bloating, pruning around the trails of heavy stitching that ran along the tracks of surgical cuts carving through her abdomen.

Danny yanked his hand away as if burned.

“Danny, she’s not breathing.”

The rest of Danny’s thoughts drowned in the swelling wail of the approaching ambulance siren.

…

Outside the Fenton Portal, green lighting doused the only part of Danny’s form not hidden in shadow, and danced with the fire of his glowing green eyes. Danny uncapped the thermos in his hand, and he trailed his thumb along the eject switch.

A new consuming green light belted forth, lasting only a moment until it vanished with a twin-braided ghost in its wake. The ghost blinked, smoothing over her hair and pulling the ends of her braids over her shoulders.

“Oh, it’s the Ghost Boy again. I thought you’d just throw me back in the Ghost Zone. Are you interested in a round 2?”

“No, not interested,” Danny answered, tone colder than ice.

“Yeesh, you’re quite sour. No more puns?”

“Why were you possessing that girl?”

“Hmm?”

“Why were you possessing her?”

The ghost blinked, green portal light mixing murkily with her purple eyes. “No particular reason. It was just a joyride.”

“A joyr—she was dead.”

Another blink. “Yeah I know. She was sitting in the morgue. She was in like a car crash or something and they already took all her organs. They didn’t need her. And I was gonna give her back, but you had to go and make it a whole thing.” The girl swooped forward, eyes wide and roving over Danny. “You seem mad. Wanna call a truce?” She stuck a hand forward. “I’m Melissa, by the way.”

Danny jolted, eyes flashing brighter. “No, you’re not. That girl was Melissa.”

“Oh for real?” Melissa let out a chuckle. “Crazy coincidence. I like don’t even know that many Melissas. Anyway truce?”

“No.” Danny ran his fingers through his hair. “You were possessing the body of a dead girl and you made me fight her! Don’t you see how that’s—that’s so—how fucked up—that you’d even—”

“Well I mean, I didn’t make you fight me. You made that happen. I was minding my business.”

“Doing what?”

“Shopping. Why else would I take a body for a joyride? I stole some cute clothes to wear. Stole some food to eat. Oh! That outfit I was wearing when we were fighting? Yeah I picked that out. She was in like a hospital gown when I found her. Super cute improvement right?”

An ectoblast sounded and connected with the wall behind Melissa, missing her a foot to the right. Danny’s hand glowed, and his eyes focused with a razor sharpness.

“Stop talking like that, okay? It’s pissing me off. I need you to tell me you know this was fucked up.”

Melissa put a finger to her chin. “I mean I guess stealing is kinda wrong. They were all like, big box corporate stores don’t worry.”

“The. Dead. Body.”

And Melissa fell silent a moment, violet eyes probing deep into Danny’s before widening. “Oh. Oh you’re like for-real mad about that. Like actually. I thought you were like, making an ironic joke.”

“Why the hell would I be joking about this??”

Melissa cocked her head to the side. “Well because you’re doing it too, duh. Like, duh.”

A huff of air cut against Danny’s teeth, an involuntary noise, incredulous, a guffaw he didn’t consciously make. The jelly sensation of decomposing flesh was back under his fingers. “I am not—would never—I’ve never even seen a dead body before this thing with you and I’d never in a million years even think for even a fucking second that I’d want to possess a dead body. What’s wrong with you?!”

Melissa bobbed a little in the air, ends of her braids trailing over the straps of her ephemeral sundress. “See this is why I really can’t tell if you’re joking or not. What are you talking about? You’re doing it right now.” She clasped her hands behind her back. “The black-haired boy whose corpse you’re possessing. Why are you allowed to do it?”

Danny froze. He laughed, heavy, with an uncomfortable force. “Myself, you mean? I’m not possessing myself. I am myself. I’m a half-ghost.”

Melissa met his laugh. “Oh what? No way like, that’s your own corpse? How’d you even get back to it in time? That’s crazy lucky like you must have died right near a portal or something.”

An involuntary shiver traced down Danny’s spine.

“…I’m not dead.” His eyes shifted around, and Danny dropped to the floor. He set a hand against the wall, throwing on the lights to the Fenton basement. Rings swept around his form, green iridescent eyes sweeping blue, white hair seeping black. “Look. Literally look at me. I’m not dead.”

And Melissa swooped closer. She set a finger to her bottom lip and hovered a foot in front of Danny, drinking him in. She swept to the side, like a swimmer in the water, sweeping around him in a full arc. She edged closer and pinched her fingers against the exposed skin on Danny’s arm. He flinched.

“Oh wow there’s like, not even any decay or anything. Your human brain even feels like it’s working it’s all like, electro-magnety. How long were you dead before you got back to your body?”

“I didn’t die.”

“Then what did happen?”

“I got shocked by the Fenton Portal, okay? It was just a lab accident and it gave me powers.”

“Oh. Oh.” Melissa’s eyes shot wide. “Oh you didn’t die near a portal… You died in a portal. You didn’t even have to get back to find your body at all. You must have appeared like practically on top of your own body. That’s crazy lucky. That’s so lucky. Your body was like, probably only dead a microsecond before you hopped back in. No wonder it’s so well-preserved.”

Danny swatted her away. “You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me.” Melissa floated backwards. “What do you think is more likely? A bajillion ecto-volts somehow gave you superpowers that exactly mirror everything a regular dead ghost can do? …Or you died, and became a regular old ghost, and did what any regular old ghost can do, which is possess a freshly-dead dead body?”

“…I’m half-ghost,” Danny answered, human heart pounding in his chest. “I know what I am.”

Melissa bobbed back, feet pointed backwards until the soles of her feet skimmed the matrix of the portal. “I see you’ve made up your mind. That’s alright. But it was still pretty mean of you to accuse me like a big hypocrite like that.”

“I’ll destroy you if you ever try that again.”

“Oh I’ll try asking permission next time okay? Promise.” Melissa’s feet sank into the surface of the portal. “But, before I go, I’ve just got one more question to leave you with.”

“Go.”

“Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?”

“Go.”

“Maybe you’ll have an answer for me next time I see you. Byeee!”

A spark of white erupted from the portal, consuming, absorbing, and fizzling out as Melissa’s form vanished into the ether beyond.

…

“Hey! Yo! Danny, come check this out!”

Danny rounded the stairs, unsocked feet creaking the floorboards with each step. Danny yawned, and blinked, and rubbed at his bruised eyes with the sleeve of his pajama top.

“Still asleep? That’s fine! You don’t have to do anything. Just come over here and look at what your old pop’s been up to.”

Danny entered the living room, where Jack sat hunched on the couch surrounded by an arsenal of power tools, rags, oil, soldering equipment, and scrap metal. From beside him he hefted a bazooka into view.

“This is the Fentonzooka 3.2.17. Amped up and equipped with all the latest in ghost-busting and human-saving technology.”

Danny blinked. “3.2.17?”

“Yep. This baby’s got 17 bug patches, tweaks, and internal improvements since the 3.2.0. The 3.2.0 was the advent of the snack compartment in the side. Look!” Jack spun a dial, revealing a chamber half-filled with pistachios.

Danny only stared.

Jack hefted the bazooka onto his shoulder. “Even better, Mads and I finally got rid of the last little sting humans feel when it’s fired. It’s now completely 100% harmless to humans. It feels like the breeze from a standing fan when it hits ya.” Jack turned, and he aimed the barrel at Danny. “Wanna try it out?”

Danny stood, and Danny stared, and Danny said nothing.

What might happen when it hit him?

Would it hit like the gentle breeze of a fan? Wash over him like air conditioning? Tingle cool and pleasant against his human fingers, human face, human skin?

Would it do something else?

Why should a lethal accident do anything other than kill you?

Jack eased the bazooka a bit off center, pulling his eyes away from the sight. He stared directly at Danny. “Danny?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to try it out?”

Danny stood.

Danny stared.

Danny wondered if he’d have an answer for Melissa the next time he saw her.

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.4)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Yoongi makes his choice, so does Moonbyul.

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Graphic material, Death, Murder, Dead bodies and dying described in detail, brief suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, DARK THEMES, guilt, blood, a touch of blood kink? drugs, murder/crime themes, guilt, kinda fuck or die vibes? finally fluff at the end, mating marks, 

W/c: 7.1k

A/n: here is the moment you’ve all been waiting for! the big d word moment!!! my carpal tunnel is acting up, I will probably not be able to get the next chapter out for a few days or until next week. Chronologically the next chapter continues after part 1. 

(PLEASE READ TAGS FOR CW BEFORE YOU PROCEED)

Previous part — Masterlist

Part 4: If I Have You 

Pulling the trigger is the easiest thing you’ve ever done. 

Geumjae’s body flinches back from the force of the bullet. The ceiling splattering with the spray of his blood. It hits the side of your face too, your white shirt crested with red at the shoulders, dripping down your throat along with the blood from your mating bite. It’s a percussive splatter, noisy as it hits the wall.

People never talk about how blood gets everywhere during a murder. Yoongi is unable to stop his flinch when Geumjae’s brain matter and viscera splatter against him, just a little. 

Yoongi didn't think you'd actually do it. 

He watches you shove the body away from you, hard, what's left of his head, an empty vessel, hitting the floor with a hollow thud. His hands leave you for the last time, but the pain isn't finished. 

Yoongi barely has the forethought to lunge forward, knees scraping, wrestling the gun out of your hand before you can turn it on yourself. The barrel of the gun is hot when Yoongi's hands close around it and yank it away from your own temple. The smell of burning skin joins the metallic scent of murder. Your scent is a mess- it’s barely had a chance to mix with Geumjae’s burning wood-burning bread and wrath, rainstorms, and gunpowder. 

He shouts your name but you don't respond. 

Yoongi yanks the gun from your hands, probably hurting your fingers but panicked when he hurls the gun to the other side of the room and takes your hands in his, wrestling with you and screaming your name until the fight goes out of you. 

You’re hyperventilating when you stop struggling. Both of your wrists pinned above your head in both of Yoongi’s hands, his knees pressing your legs to stillness in a way that could be sexual but isn't- it's the easiest way for him to restrain you- both sprawled on the bloody floor. Yoongi’s crying, tears dripping down his nose, every other drop shines pink from what's on his face.  

“Yoongi please- please just let me go- I don’t want to become a ghost- I don't wanna become a walking corpse.” The way you look breaks his heart, your neck so bruised and bloody, your face swelling too from Geumjae’s hits. The way your eyes hold only darkness and no warmth as you look at him and beg- beg him to let you take your life. Your pupils are so small he can't see them at all. 

“Let me die Yoongi- please just- if you do one thing for me- let do this. let me go."

Yoongi looks at your mating mark and can already see the thin tracery of ink spreading under your skin- inky blackness spreading from your mating bite and up your throat. A piece of someone who’s dead inside of you, shot through with silver to make it stand out more. 

It’s like some silly zombie bite in a bad horror movie but it’s so much more haunting, The veins in your eyes are even starting to discolor. You have maybe a few minutes before the mating bite takes you over completely and you’re mated to someone dead.

Zombie movies were nothing more than fear of this taking root in common culture, everyone fears losing their mate. What else is more terrifying than something that takes your humanity in the way that this has taken yours. This is every person’s worst nightmare- a death sentence.  

‘Ghosts’ are what society has dubbed the women and men who live after losing their partners. Most of the time they live without alpha or a pack- unable to bond to anyone else ever again once their mates are dead. Mating bites are a one-time thing. 

When one-half of a mated pair dies- a person's body has a peculiar way of letting outsiders know how to treat them gently- The mating mark turns black like a brand. A mark to let everyone know that they would never have another person to take care of them- to love them.

But you aren’t alone- you’re not alone because you have Yoongi and he’s right here with his wide palms on you. Hands that where always made to fix things, but you aren’t just some broken toy that needs a bit of glue.  He’s too late, just seconds too late and only inches away. 

He grips both of your forearms in either of his palms hands, pulling you closer. Making you sit up, dragging you into his lap like carrying your weight in his arms will fix this. Anything to hold onto you- to not lose you too soon. 

"Stop- just stop, I've got you- I've got you," Yoongi repeats it more for himself than he does for you.

But there are wounds in your body that can’t be fixed by simple hoping. There is a limit to what one person can take. Despair is one hell of a drug and while Yoongi fights and fights there is no undoing what Geumjae has done to you.

But maybe…

Yoongi dares to hope; “It’s only a half bond if we-“ he falls silent as the idea settles over him like a bucket of cold water. His brain rushing over everything he’s ever learned about mating bites and beta’s; all of the statistics and articles that Namjoon had shoved down his throat when Jungkook had first stopped having seizures. 

The medical mystery that betas were; how they were able to heal unseen hurts and maybe- maybe this was like that. Maybe the solution to this problem lays in Yoongi’s veins, in his mouth. 

His jaw aches at the very suggestion of it.  “I’m a beta- and betas don’t usually mark- because- because they’re stronger than alpha and omega bites.” 

It’s the only truth that makes sense. All of the stories of omegas and alphas going crazy after being bitten by betas, not being able to move from them too far, extreme clinginess- a bond that was too close, too strong, stronger than anything else in their life. You weren’t supposed to bond with someone so deep, the bite almost seemed to do more harm than good. 

But you’re already dying and there isn’t much worse that could happen to you.

You don't have anything to lose but Yoongi does. You shake yourself free from his arms and pull back. Recoiling from what he’s offering to do for you; tether him to you forever when you might not make it. 

You can already feel the mating mark taking hold- It's already starting to cloud your judgment, deep down, the part of you that cares if you survive this is already winking out. The blankness sinking through your every inch, The emptiness. You’d be surprised if you lifted your hand to your chest and found your heart still beating. 

“Yoongi- No- you don’t have to- you’ve already got a pack and don’t- don’t bind yourself to someone like me.”

It’s the same argument that you had before but there’s no force behind it- every stupid excuse you had for him not to love you is moot now that your husband is dead next to you. But you're done; Every breath takes more effort than it should and you feel so heavy. You look down at your lap and feel the lethargy sinking beneath your bones like lead. Hidden hands gripping around your throat cutting off your words.

You feel like you’re choking on something. 

You’ve felt depressed before (how could you not have given what your life was like before Yoongi). And having a mating mark from someone deceased feels like that but worse, like it's turned up by a factor of three. A weird mixture of dizzy, absent, and dissociative. You have never felt less connected to your own body, it feels foreign.

You are nothing but a soul inside a body, craving release. A thread of black that wants to tug you down to where ever Geumjae is now. 

The sinking sadness says to you with gentle hands- this is a fine spot. You can just sit here, It’s okay. You don’t have to move, you can just sit here until you die. As long as no one bothers you and hurts you again, you could just sit here, as long as it was quiet and peaceful. Things don't even have to be good, you don't need good things, you just need it to not hurt anymore. Until the earth reclaims you like it takes abandoned buildings. 

 A sharp pain that goes through your heart, an ache so deep that it speaks to cavernous places, wakes monsters that you didn’t know where there. 

You’ve never really wanted to die before, maybe as a passing thought- but didn’t everyone think that way? it’s so different now- where the thoughts are all consuming, running over your words in your head like oil spreading and staining cloth. 

Die- want to die- want- want- want die- wanna go- wanna be quiet- wanna fall asleep and not wake up- want to- 

But if you decided to lay here and not get up again, Yoongi would stay too.

He would try and get you to move, probably beg and try to get you to live. Even if he never bit you, he’d stay next to you until the end, just to hold your hand so that you didn’t have to be completely alone. You thought dying would feel more lonely,  But maybe it doesn't feel that way because Yoongi’s here. 

His hand closes around yours, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as he cries. And you think if you want one thing; it's for him to stop crying. Out of all people- Yoongi doesn't deserve the hurt (but maybe you're biased because you love him).

That tips the scale in his favor.

Geumjae’s blood is pooling on the floor. His body gives a twitch, the last remnants of his misfiring nerves as he dies. You feel the painful jerk in your mating bond. Yoongi watches the muscles of your neck twitch. 

Neither you nor Yoongi pays him any mind. 

"You don't have to do this Yoongi." Yoongi’s hand on your cheek- is like a balm to those words, pushing them out of your head. “You can’t take it back. If I die- you could die too.”

“But I want to” he kisses your cheek- and the contact lights a flame down your neck to your touch starved heart. The heat flares to light and the next second your body and your mouth are aching to bite. Your instincts an avalanche around you begging you to complete the bond that’s tearing through you making you shake. He kisses a little closer to your lips, cheeks wet and cool against your skin.

Geumaje and Yoongi were related by blood at all, maybe your instincts can’t tell the difference. 

“I don’t care if it does- I can’t- I’m not going to just let you die” his voice breaks on the last word. Not when it was me who was too slow to save you; He won’t say the words or whisper his guilt into the open air. 

“Please sweetheart- let me.” He kisses your lips. So soft- achingly soft, Your first kiss, you wish it had happened under better circumstances.

You hate that the first kiss you and Yoongi share tastes like blood.

But there would be more- there could be more kisses if Yoongi manages to do what he’s saying he can. The mark on your shoulder is already healing, the blackness stretching to scar treacherously fast. Normal mating bites usually take a day or so to heal, but not yours, it’s already scabbing and sealing in the poision.

If you’re going to try this- if it’s going to work- it has to be now. The bond is advancing, regardless of the fact that Geumjae is barely dead, barely cooling beside the two of you.

It’s barely been 10 minutes since you shot him. And if you listen carefully- you can hear sounds in the rest of the house, maybe someone else from the gang here- about to come upstairs and discover the mess of you three. muffled voices and heavy footsteps grow louder by the second. 

Yoongi is safe but you’re not. “Yoongi,” you say, his name a broken hymn on your mouth. Musical- and Yoongi can’t think of a time when he wouldn’t want to hear it. Hoping for more of this closeness and maybe one day, a love that doesn’t hurt.

You get the feeling that even if you are broken beyond repair, this man could fix you. Wide hands and careful fingers that rub the blood away from your skin, hands made for making things and mending things when they break. And maybe you’re selfish enough to let him bind himself to you- broken as you are.

You press your forehead to his, you have to ask one more time. "Are you sure Yoongi?"

He nods, quick and small, "I'm sure." there isn’t anything in his eyes that makes you doubt him.

"Okay," you say softly, tugging him closer, tilting your chin up to the sky, your skin stings where it stretches around the mating mark. "okay. Come here then."

Your hands tangle in Yoongi’s hair as you guide his mouth to your throat, and his mouth sliding into the space where Geumjae was just minutes ago. He lingers for just half a breath before sinks his teeth over the mating mark, a little deeper- his mouth a little wider. He makes the bite a tiny bit offset.

Your breath hitches, back arching. His hands-on your waist go hard, holding you closer to him, as close as he can get you. Unlike before when Geumjae’s bite was agony, this feels like heroin- like every drug mixing together sending you up and up.

If you looked down and saw your hands were tipped in gold you wouldn’t be surprised. For a second you think you can taste colors, and then the chocolate sea salt of Yoongi settles over your tongue delicious, like ambrosia- fuck it’s so strong, it’s halfway between a headache and a high. You gasp when you feel it, feel Yoongi all over, Goosebumps rising on your arms as he touches you. The smell of ocean breeze and chocolate filling you in a way that Geumjae’s scent didn’t.

Geumjae’s bite was nothing compared to this, a whisper to a symphony. 

This must be what a mating bite feels like when you want it. You cry out. Gripping the lapels of his coat. Yoongi’s heartbeat thunders in your ears, the only thing you can hear, until the beat matches to your own, heartbeats pumping in sync.

Your blood tastes sweet and he wonders what it says about him that he likes the taste. He gulps at it- once- twice- and then a third time just to make sure the mark sticks, maybe he could suck a little bit of Geumjae out of you.

His kisses get feverish, lapping up your blood with wide laves of his tongue, moaning a little. and this time when you kiss- with your blood in his mouth, they get hurried and rushed like he can consume you, each one sweeter than the last. There is one moment of nausea, only one moment where Yoongi sees the black tracery receded and feels it dim. 

Maybe it’s not gone, but at least it's buried.

Yoongi can almost feel you, can almost feel the bond, but not yet. Your scent, it's all cake-sweet now. You kiss him until your jaw aches until your lips feel bruised. Until you know the sounds below actually are people, rushing around trying to find Geumjae. Calling out your names. 

Yoongi is the first to break apart, the room spinning. “Do me” he lifts the edge of his shirt, picking out a spot that he likes, the meat just above his hip. A spot is half-hidden by his shirt and his pants.

Not everyone likes to have their mating marks on their neck (you certainly would have chosen to have yours another place had you been given the chance). And Yoongi stretches out so that you can get your mouth on him, your mouth on the spot he wants to bind your soul to his.

He holds one of your hands in both of his hands so gently as you cup his hip and bite down, even as you begin to make out the noise of gang members coming up the attic stairs. Yoongi bites down a moan, lets you take one gasp of blood into your mouth before your teeth leave his skin.

The high rushes over him and he knows his pupils are mirrors of yours, black and dilated. He just has time to wipe his blood from your mouth and get you as close as he can, before the attic door creaks, the barrel of a gun pushing it open. And the gangsters enter the room with practiced steps.

Yoongi pulls his shirt back down just before they have a chance to see.

You play the part, slumping against him and letting him take the reigns. the people must take it for pain even though you’re shaking not with sobs, but from the feeling of Yoongi’s soul intertwining with yours. Full body shivers and something solidifying between the two of you. 

Together you shake, Yoongi is barely aware of the gangsters clearing the room. 

You feel like you can taste his thoughts, though you can’t actually hear what he's thinking. You can feel the way they tumble like small waves over each other. You feel concern and something else, something that feels an offal lot like love shoot down the fledgling bond as Yoongi’s arms pull you up, firmer against him.

It makes shivers rise on every inch of your skin, the pleasure he feels when he touches you that you're now hyper-aware of. It's what your body has been craving- the completion of the bond.

You both bleed- your blood dripping onto the floor. One part sacrament and sacred love and another part poisonous longing for a man you hated so much more than you ever loved him. This feels strange, it feels wrong, and that you have one part of you reaching out for something that’s not there. And then this- with Yoongi, right and front of you and inside of you. Completely occupying your heart and your mind and your body.

Accept for that one poisoned inch; you might not be completely his, but it's enough now, the bond with yoongi occupying those thoughts you'd had minutes before.

The gangsters don’t touch Geumjae, at least until Moonbyul enters the room, unarmed. Yoongi’s cousin eyes Yoongi from the door. There isn’t enough room in this torture room for the 12 or so gangsters and the three of you, they press against the walls, guns at the ready.

Moonbyul approaches Geumjae’s corpse, turning him over with her foot to see his blankly staring face, turning it towards the heavens instead of hell. For a moment, Yoongi thinks she might actually kick him. She plucks her pink handgun from the floor. Someone passes her a rag and she wipes it free of blood and fingerprints.

Her eyes on Yoongi are hard; a bit of mirth playing on the edge of her mouth as she plays her hand. A queen in a room full of pawns and knights, and the king underfoot. Her hand of aces. 

Betting it all on a simple game of roulette- red or black- will Yoongi challenge her or not. Yoongi doesn't miss the way her finger hovers on the trigger. 

“I suppose this entire situation would be concerning to me- if you hadn’t already named me as Don.” she nudges Geumjae's body again with her foot. "I guess he didn't take it well?"

She lies effortlessly, taking the moment to seize power. So this was what she was waiting for. Yoongi doesn’t challenge her words for fear of what she might do right now, not that he really would anyway. 

Yoongi tips his head forward in difference, “No he didn’t,” 

Moonbyul tucks her gun back into her waistband, and holds out her hand to pull yoongi to his feet. 

Yoongi takes you with him, small and still a little high in his arms. You hide your face in Yoongi’s shoulder, Holding onto him tight. You don’t know if you could take it if they tried to separate you now. 

Yoongi has to swallow to continue, struggling to think before he speaks with so many new sensations shocking his body. He's intimately aware of the way you shift in his arms, arms tightening around you at the very idea of you moving more than an inch away from him right now as you settle onto your own two feet. still a little unsteady. 

“He- he mated her against her will, and then he tried to kill us when I told him I wouldn’t- and- and after-” It’s not a lie- not really, but it still feels that way. Moonbyul doesn't need to do anything more than that to nod to call her men off, and they all relax around the room. 

They instantly fade from engaged concern to understanding. The other heads of household will probably grill Yoongi more. But you’ve both got time to get your story straight. For now, they need to clean up the body.

It helps that threatening the beta is a punishable offense; no one will question Yoongi killing him- especially since they’re brothers. Most of the families tend to think that inner house spats that family's business. Yoongi doesn’t know which of his relatives will inherit the title of head of the Min family, but it won't be Yoongi.

You’re small and silent in Yoongi’s arms, so vulnerable, he keeps you a few paces away from any of the mobsters, bites down a growl whenever any of them come too close to his mate. It’s just the mating bond making it’s self-known. You are his. No one can touch you.

Yoongi has never been a possessive man, but now he is. The mating mark tearing through him and screaming at him to protect, to provide, to nurture, and keep safe. He strokes down your back as his cousin quietly orders the others to clean up the mess and Geumjae’s body. The family has cleanup crews on call for this very reason.

They quietly offer to burn the house down to stage the death but Yoongi doesn’t care. He guesses it belongs to him now or maybe you. It depends on which bond the family will consider more important; the bonds of a half mating or the bond of brotherhood.

“I’ll handle it-“ his cousin has the good grace to offer comfort to Yoongi that way when he gets you into her car. she doesn't say anything about the dents in the side.  

Yoongi doesn’t quite hate her for any of this, but he doesn’t trust her the same way he did before either. She’s gotten what she wanted- the Don position. Plucked it from Yoongi’s hands.

“You haven’t had a chance to call the heads of house and tell them about your decision yet, but after that, you should be free to go” she reads him easily as always, The only other manipulator up to par with Yoongi himself in the gang. She knows that not an inch of Yoongi wants to stay in this house or this city a second longer.

At the idea of leaving you to straighten up in Yoongi’s lap to listen in a little more, you share a look with Yoongi. Your mate, your body sings the eye contact makes you shiver in your seat. Yoongi pulls you closer, stroking up to your arm mistakenly thinking you’re cold. You pull yourself closer to him- but it feels like you can’t get close enough, He makes a dissatisfied noise in his throat.

Yoongi will have to get used to this feeling. Like his soul is walking outside of his body. It feels incredibly vulnerable and intimate- He can feel your panic, how physically you’re being torn apart right now, every few minutes you shake. Yoongi puts your legs over his and holds you close. Watching your face closely for every twinge of pain as the lights of the city flicker over you two.

The meeting with the heads of house is tense, though the usual group of is two short now, standing only at eleven members now that Geumjae is gone and Moonbyul is named Don. You cannot be Don and a head of house at the same time.

It takes every bone in Yoongi’s body to let you be taken into the other room by Moonbyul’s mate to check over your injuries. He stops her with a hand on her shoulder. He catches Moonbyul’s nostrils flare, but she doesn’t say anything. “Would you look at her bruises for me?”

Later Yoongi will check them himself, again and again until he's sure you're all right. But the sooner you get ice on the nastier bruises the better off you’ll be. Someone should look at your ribs and your head too- he has half a mind to take you to the hospital before you leave the city. He doesn’t know how long it will be before you’re stationary again. He’d stay in the city tonight if you needed to. But he can feel your panic down the bond, The sooner you both get out of here the better.

With Geumjae dead there is no true opposition against his cousin's rule. She stands at the head of the table like she’s meant to be there. And still- the heads of the families talk through the night, kicking the non-proverbial dead horse into the ground. There is little mourning for Geumjae, one granny who cries faintly in the other room while the heads argue. Yoongi supposes he should look more upset, but no one pays attention to him now that he’s made his choice.

No, what they spend most of the time discuss is you. Sat in the other room, able to hear all of this, the men and woman weighing your fate and deciding what to do with you. If Yoongi listens, he can hear Hyejin’s quiet voice. Can feel your discomfort as the ice hits your ribs, maybe broken, definitely badly bruised.

Yoongi flinches every time he feels the pain pulse down the bond. Maybe in time, it will feel less sensitive but right now- Yoongi can feel your hurts just as bad as he can feel his own. A part of him is reaching out into the other room, screaming in his ear to go comfort his mate.  

He has a mate. Yoongi can scarcely believe it.

The gangsters around the table remain blissfully unaware of that fact. Most of the heads are on the same page, and he won’t reveal his mating mark unless he absolutely needs to, he will let that secret stay secret unless necessary. It’s a good bargaining chip. They wouldn’t kill you if they knew it was going to kill him too. But still- it’s hard to hear them argue over your fate when he can’t intervene.

“You know the rules- no divorces and no separations,” one alpha says, he’s older- nearing 60, but Yoongi can’t excuse that cruelty with age. The youngest, the head of the Ahn house does the rebutting for Yoongi, and he bites his tongue.

“But it wouldn’t be a divorce; she’s his widow now and his ex-mate technically.”

“Yes but that’s only a half bond.” There is only one omega head, and the woman snubs her long cigarette out on the table leaving an ashy circle 

“It’s only the alpha bite that matters- or have you forgotten?”

To her credit, the omega doesn't back down. “Chances are she’ll die anyway why are we even talking about her, we should start transitioning already.”

“That’s easy to say- if she’s got nothing left to lose what’s to stop her from going to the police.”

“I can keep an eye on her,” Yoongi volunteers, jumping at the chance to turn the discussion to his favor. They can all go fuck themselves if they ever dare to try and hurt you. “You say she’s as good as dead anyway. So you shouldn't mind if she comes with me.” 

The likelihood of anyone living after their mate dies is in the teens. Yoongi knew that and even then he bonded to you anyway. He can only hope that with his bite coursing through your veins and your body confused that you’ve got better odds than that. Yoongi did what he promised to do, now your odds are both 50/50. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go to the police.”

Through the bond he can feel your curiosity and a little bit of fear too, you’re listening in. And he does his best to let his calmness comfort you too. Your panic instantly relaxes and he senses you reaching out. If you were next to Yoongi you’d be holding hands, and it kind of feels that way. If you could ever hold hands with someone’s soul.

“You realize that if you make her your responsibility, anything bad that happens will fall on your head as well” their betas might be sacred- but they aren’t free from the rest of the laws of the gang.

“I understand.” The Don lifts her head, regarding Yoongi with a heavy look. “She’s his widow and whether we want to address it now or not, the law says she’s inherited his wealth.”

It's met with immediate opposition, several heads of house start speaking over each other at once,  but Yoongi speaks up again, shouting over them. A beta raising their voice is about as strange as one giving or getting a mating bite, everyone falls silent. “Give it to me or her- I don’t care.”

another few minutes and they’re ready to let you go. they vote on it, and only 3 out of 11 heads vote to have you killed. Moonbyul gives the all clear, “Then you’re free to go.” Yoongi doesn’t even say goodbye, going to you in the other room just as quickly as he can without outright running. The Don’s mate is crouched in front of where you sit. Your body is mostly clean of blood and you’ve been put in other clothes; a pair of sweats and a baggy shirt.

Yoongi can see all the bruises on the side of your face turning purple and Yoongi wants to cup your face and bring it to his, kiss away the pain coloring your skin like watercolors, but can’t do it here. “Do we need to go to the hospital?” 

“Not for her but maybe for you, no ones checked you over yet, have they?”

yoongi grits his teeth, seconds away from snapping at hyejin, he wants her to get away, get as far from you as possible. “i asked if she needed the hospital.” 

Hyejin stands when Yoongi crouches. shaking her head when it becomes clear yoongi isn’t to be argued with right now. “There’s something wrong with her- but I think you know what” her eyes hover on Yoongi’s hip.

 So at least she’s figured it out. She has the good sense to utter the words quietly. Though the people in the other room aren’t concerned with Yoongi anymore, they’ve already launched into discussions about transitioning power and re-defining responsibilities. It seems Moonbyul had a plan on how she wanted the family to run from the beginning.  

He shakes off his annoyance, “Thank you,” he says to the omega, holding out a hand to you, which you take, still not saying anything. Tiredness holding you down to the chair. The same kind of look you’d had when Geumjae had died. The mating mark has been taped over but some of the blackness is still there. Yoongi wonders when it will fade, if it ever does.

“I wish I could say I’ll see you soon but I don’t think I will.” You and Yoongi nod, your hands twined between the two of you. She knows that neither you nor Yoongi has a love for the gang. No one stops you and Yoongi when you leave the house. Immediately hailing a taxi. You stop only at Yoongi’s safe house for a spare 20 minutes, while he packs up a fraction of his belongings in a hurried rush, anything to get out before someone tries to change their mind.

If Geumjae had any hidden loyalists the beta that killed him and his runaway wife would be the first targets. Let alone their reaction if they knew who had really killed Geumjae. The quicker the two of you get away from the city the better.

You end up at the train station, Yoongi breaks the bracelets off of your wrist- the same ones that he saw you wear on you the first night- and the ones that he’s always thought looked like shackles. He yanks at them as hard as he can until they snap; kissing your wrist after each one is off. You throw them over the side of the chain-link fence and into the darkness- to be lost forever you hope. The symbols of all you’ve lost.

When you get on the train, you cuddle close under Yoongi’s jacket and into his warmth. He’s a protective barrier between you and the third seat that thankfully remains empty this late into the night it’s so late it’s nearly early morning. Most of the train is empty besides an elderly couple at the front. Regardless, the two of you sit behind them. Yoongi can’t take his eyes off of the potential threat. Actually flinches when the conductor comes around to stamp your tickets.

You head off into the night- your little box of light in a sea of street lamps and hidden dangers. You almost fall asleep a few times, head bobbing as you catching yourself before it hits his shoulder. After the third time this happens he pulls you in close, tucks your head close to his scent gland, and commands “sleep” in a voice that you cannot disobey.

Eventually, you wake, the car is bright with the midday sun and the car is half full. Yoongi’s eyes are bloodshot as they train on every passenger who comes in and leaves your train car. Yoongi holds your hand, rubbing his thumb up and down the back in an endless trail. A conductor opens the door of your train car to pass through, bunching a few tickets here and there from the new passengers who have boarded the train.

He passes by where you're bundled and Yoongi flinches so hard it wakes you fully. his shoulder accidentally nudging a bruise on your cheek, He murmurs his apologies, panicked hands fussing over you. He could feel that he hit one of your bruises and the horror of hurting you make him wide-eyed and worried. You catch his hands, pressing the pads of them to your lips. Yoongi's hands shake as they touch you, hours later, he's still high on adrenaline. 

“You need to sleep Yoongi” it’s been a long few days for both of you.

He doesn’t answer with more than a grunt. But you get off the train at the next stop and it’s nearing noon by the time the two of you stumble across the street to a motel, and it’s shitty and smells like cigarettes and the lady at the front desk asks if you need the hourly rate or the daily rate. Though she does give you a discount because Yoongi’s a beta. Eyeing the blood-soaked collar of his jacket and the bloody bandages on your neck.

You should be holed up somewhere safe away from prying eyes to adjust to your new mating bite- not in a hotel where the smells of other people assault your nose. Making you press close to Yoongi because everything smells so new and scary. Like your senses have been turned up and only Yoongi can quell their sensitivity.

you don’t realize that the attendant gave you two beds until you get to the room. you both stare blankly before you cough and separated. the closeness too much now that you’re alone and free from threats. Though it doesn't feel that way. 

you hate it- you don’t want to curl up across the room from Yoongi- you want to be next to him. you almost whimper when he He steps away to the other bed to set down his backpack. You want to cry, your skin feels irritated and itchy without his pressed to yours. You want him to touch you but you can’t stay it. Don’t know how to ask around the thickness in your throat.

He gets a clean shirt from his black backpack and helps you put it on so that you don’t irritate the mating bite. You can’t lift either of your arms much and neither can he but he pushes through the pain for you. He only has 2 or three sets of clothes that he grabbed from the cottage, and it’s all you’ve got.

“We’ll get some more clothes for you tomorrow.” He doesn’t say that you should have grabbed some of your clothes- because you both know you couldn’t handle staying in that house a second more than was necessary. You barely thought to linger long enough to grab your purse, which thankfully had everything you really need in it. 

Somehow he has athletic tape in his bag, and he spends a few minutes changing out your soaked through bandages, bundling up toilet paper, and taping it over your mating bite. Only after yours is taken care of does he let you do the same for his bite on his hip, and the burns on his hands. 

You pull his pants off and then his boxers down just enough so that you can get at it, small from your mouth, the skin around it irritated and pink. You try not to let your eyes hover on the small happy trail that traces from his belly button downwards. The band on his boxers is stained with blood- and you wonder how much it hurt to have it dig into it all day.

You curl up in separate beds, and only when you’re under the covers do you slide off your pants. leaving you only in a large shirt that smells like yoongi.  Yoongi does the same, says “goodnight” and shuts off the light but doesn’t turn away from you, keeping his eyes on you in the darkness. 

You’re silent for a few minutes, but you can tell that neither of you is falling asleep. Your bed feels cold and you wonder if he feels the same, you let the distance hurt for a minute before you give in.  

"Thank fucking god-" He peels back the blanket for you the second you make the move and dash across the cold room. you scoot into his warmth and he lets out a little ‘oof’ when you collide. Letting him pull you closer, put the blanket over your back, and make sure all of your skin is covered.

It’s not enough for Yoongi and he pulls you sideways so that he can get some of his weight on top of you. A growl building in his chest at the thought of anyone walking through the door right now.

He needs to check the lock, make sure that no one can possibly disturb you. Needs to- the instinct filling him so harshly he can’t breathe. He tries to pull away, but your hands tighten on him, and you let out a whine so heartbreaking that instantly has him releasing comforting chocolate, flopping back on top of you nuzzling under your chin, you feel like you’re drowning in it. 

Your love with Yoongi is still too new and raw to be close like this without feeling shy- and yet you can’t resist, your mating bond is like a fresh burn that you can’t stop picking at because it hurts. (Like there’s something dead there that you need to get rid of, you can’t heal around, you need to tear it out so that it feels more like bleeding rather than something that was carved out by hungry heat.) You fiddle with the bandage at your neck before Yoongi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together.

For a moment, you crave the release that blood might give you- and like he can feel it. Yoongi presses a kiss to the back of your hand. “Couldn’t sleep?” Yoongi says. You shake your head. The motel creeks and overhead you can hear someone else moving in an adjacent room. Yoongi gets his head on your pillow and adjusts his hand around your waist so that he’s not hitting the vicious bruise that Geumjae left with one of his kicks.

The last 24 hours have been such a tangle. It feels weird to not move now. Yoongi’s heart is still hammering; you can feel it under your palm. You’re both unwilling to relax and close your eyes even for a second even though you’re both exhausted.

You’re worried if you close your eyes you’re going to see Geumjae's face.

Yoongi left the light in the bathroom on for you. Sensing that the shadows would be too thick with nightmares for you to handle for long. You look at each other in the darkness before Yoongi lets out a shaky little giggle.

“Do you know what I just realized?” he says, the words quieted against the too scratchy bedspread. “We could have gotten a better hotel, we easily have enough money for it now” and that’s true.

If Yoongi’s orders were followed and the gang's accountant really did transfer all of your inherited wealth to your name then- fuck- both of you saw the bank statements. Both of you know how much money Yoongi’s family had amassed- the same wealth that Geumjae had inherited and now you.

“Fuck you’re right,” you say, ducking in so that you don’t have to meet Yoongi’s eyes. Geumjae used to hit you sometimes if you did that- and trained habits die-hard. 

yoongi kisses your brow, slow little pecks that travel down your cheeks, as unhurried as they are sweet. It's strange to be close to him now when it’s all you’ve wanted for the last few months. You never thought you’d get this. It feels like a daydream and a nightmare all at once.

“We could buy a whole house- or three” and even then you’d have more than enough money to live on after. For the rest of your days, comfortable and cozy even if you were foolish with the money. Yoongi still gets his stipend from the gang. No doubt to be greater now that he’s the only beta.

He stops his kisses, mouth hovering on your cheek, “We could do that.” he sounds like he’s barely containing his excitement. 

You’ll both be fine. Neither of you will ever have to worry about money again and it makes you feel sick and happy with something that feels a terrible lot like grief.

Even if you got that- the last 24 hours haven’t been worth it. You’re not entirely out of the woods yet. The mark on your shoulder is scabbing over and inky. But every few hours of closeness that the two of you have- Yoongi think’s he sees the color fade- just a little bit.

You don’t know where the giggle comes from but one moment it comes out of your mouth and you laugh, and Yoongi joins in the sound startling out of his chest. He presses his forehead tight against yours and sighs at the sound. You see the moment clarity falls on him and an idea settles into his mind the second it hits. And dim happiness settles over your bond.

Yoongi lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your bruised knuckles. “Let's buy a house.”

You smile- tired from today but still willing to placate him. “Okay Yoongi, we can do that.”

Now finally, his eyes are starting to droop, every few seconds he tries to keep them open, but you know he's seconds away from sleep. His words slurred when they whisper, his sweet chocolaty breath tickling your cheeks. “Goodnight sweetheart- love you.”

“Love you too,” it’s the first time you’ve ever said those words to each other. It feels like the first of many times you’ll say it. Forever- you and Yoongi will be mated together until you both die. And who cares if that happens tomorrow or months from now. Who cares? Because you have him and that’s all that matters.

Yoongi holds you and knows- that he will love you- as long as he can.

He watches you sleep, waits until your eyes are closed. Until he can make sure you’re safe and warm. A gentle purring fills the hotel room, soft and peaceful. yoongi hears it louder when he presses his ear to your chest. He tries to keep his eyes open, but somewhere around the second hour- they fall closed.

Neither of you dream.

—————

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baking and kisses | aaron hotchner

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: aaron comes home after a long case to find his wife baking.

warnings: modern au. pda kinda??? fluff. little spice?? idk. husband!aaron. wife!reader. haley is an ex but isn't mentioned. jack doesn’t exist because i strongly dislike children. age gap because those are hot. this is a modern au so obviously social media is going to be a big part of this, duh. oh and reader is an influencer because why not. and i don’t know how to make a cake so these directions are the same off of the box of cake mix i have. i don't know if i like this.

The phone was set up in front of her, propped up on the cooking oil that she didn’t know if she needed. The box that the cake mix came in sat a little ahead of the phone and Y/N was bent a little at her back to read the directions, the tools and ingredients she needed sat on the edge of the counter.

“Mix cake mix, water, oil and eggs in a large bowl with a mixer on medium speed. Hm, seems I do need oil. I thought it already came with oil.” Y/N unconsciously scrunched her eyebrows together as she straightened her back up.

She looked back at the oil that her phone was propped on as she started to rethink her decision. “I don’t think I can do this.” Y/N spoke softly to the live that was on her phone.

You’re doing great, babe!

No, keep going!

A smile broke on her lips as she nodded her head. “Okay, first I need to mix everything together—” her sentence broke off as she heard the door shut and the sound of shoes walking in the house.

Her grin widened as Aaron came into the kitchen. He slowly puts his briefcase down as he looks at the mess and his grinning wife right in the center of everything. “What are you doing? Are you trying to bake again? Baby, we both know how this ends.”

Y/N’s lips drop into a pout. “I’m good at baking! This is how you greet your wife? Where’s my hug and kiss?” Aaron couldn’t help the smile that spread on his lips as he walked towards her, his back facing the camera that he didn’t see yet.

As soon as Aaron reached her, he wrapped one of his arms around her waist and the other one went to the bottom of her jaw, slowly and softly tilting her head up to make eye contact.

I’m so lonely.

What did I do to deserve this.

Aaron placed a soft kiss on her lips and Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck. Aaron mumbled against her lips, “Look at you, you’re so pretty. My pretty little wife.” His hand moved from her jaw and lightly wrapped around her neck. She looked so pretty, he couldn’t help himself and gently pushed her back until her hips hit the counter behind her.

“Aaron,” she tried to say his name but it came out slightly slurred as his tongue ran across her bottom lip. Y/N hummed and unwrapped her arms from his neck and pushed him back some. “Aaron, I’m live.” She whispered and the grin appeared back on her lips as Aaron whipped his head around to the phone.

This was like soft porn.

Did I really just see that?

The hand around her neck dropped and the arm around her waist left her body as Aaron groaned and walked towards the bedroom.

Y/N’s smile widened once again as she bit her lip to restrain the laugh that wanted to come out. “Where are you going? Aaron! Come help me bake this cake!”

When she heard the bedroom door slam, she couldn’t help the loud laugh that came out as she looked back at the phone. “I think he’s frustrated.” Her eyebrows wiggled suggestively as she tried to go back to baking.