#it's one of my favorite episodes (fork found in the kitchen)

[dimepdf]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑. + 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐊𝐎𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐄

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you have Kiyoko and Tanaka to blame for your boyfriend Kenma's raging baby fever part one

pairing. dilf!kenma kozume x reader

word count. 1.2k

genre and warnings. domestic fluff, literally tooth rotting fluff, family fluff, established relationship, parenthood, family fluff, mentions of pregnancy, kenma with baby fever, tanaka and his devil daughter, suggestive ending, NOTE BETA'D | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

"Ah, ah! No, spit it out, booger!" Tanaka demands, snatching his daughter Nami into his arms. 

Taking the object she was chewing out of her hands after seeing her pick it up off the ground and place it in her mouth. The toddler writhes in his arms and even snarls as if she were a barbaric monster in resistance to being picked up.

After giving their episode a casual glance, Kiyoko went back to eating unbothered by her husband's and daughter's usual behavior. "And for that reason, Kenma, you shouldn't play zombie video games with a three-year-old."  

When the toddler was last at Kenma's house, he let her stay up way past her bedtime so he and Harue could play a few rounds of their favorite first-person shooter game before bed. 

Kenma stiffened guilty at the jab, realizing that he might have had some minor impact on the toddler's behavior from that time.

For Kenma, it had simply become normal for him to assume that all kids were like his son and had become desensitized to the violent video games they were playing together.

You replied, looking at Kiyoko and grinning, "I had to persuade this man that GTA wasn't a kid's game." Kenma visibly winced as he thought back to the lengthy conversation he had to have with Harue after the boy had been found in the virtual strip club receiving a lap dance.

"You're supposed to be on my side," he groaned, head leaning into your shoulder. Muttering under his breath about how at least Harue knew when to give a good tip.

It was the first week of spring, so it wasn't too hot to stay inside and whine about the air conditioning, and it wasn't too cold that you needed to put on a jacket to keep yourself from shivering. 

You eagerly agreed when Kiyoko texted that you should leave the house for the day for a small hangout at the local park to get some fresh air (mostly so she wouldn't strangle Tanaka).

The boys need some much-needed sunshine, always glued to their screens inside, so you had to pry them away from their video games and drag them to the park in a bribe that you would spend the night the entire weekend and hang out with them. 

Harue made use of his time at the park after taking Harue's away his switch and releasing him into the wild. You watched with a smile as he had already gathered a group of friends to run around with at the park.

Kenma was not so lucky at finding entertainment, not knowing how to make many conversations with Tanaka as the two men had drastically different hobbies outside of work. 

So he did what he did best: glued himself to your side the entire time, watching the children play while remaining utterly silent and with a bored expression on his face, but it was clear that he was simply just lost in thought.

You choose to ignore him and shift your attention to Kiyoko, who was leaning against the picnic table holding a sizable red Tupperware bowl and a plastic fork. You had no idea what bizarre food combinations she was eating this morning.

She would often talk to you about the strange cravings she had developed after learning she had gotten pregnant. 

To the point where you were almost starting to worry about the facetime calls, you would get from her scarfing down whatever she could grab in her kitchen or order from her phone.

"Hey lady, how are you feeling?"

She answers with a sigh."So fucking pregnant but mostly just hungry," 

"Well, you are eating for three now. Gotta feed those two little devil babies in ya." You light-heartedly tease.

Kiyoko hums, rubbing the front of her big belly. "Don’t speak badly of them too much, I'm convinced they smell fear." 

★  .  .  .    !

Once you've made it back to Kenma's penthouse, the rest of the day goes on as usual.

You took up your usual spot in the living room and made use of the 85-inch flat screen to catch up on a Netflix show you've decided to binge, the two boys immediately dispersed back to their respective rooms like addicts going back to playing their games.

It was a nice comforting moment alone that you would have until the boys got tired of staring at their computer screens and both scrambled into your personal space to watch the show without much complaint.

While Kenma occupied the other side of you and curled up in your chest, Harue was sprawled out against the couch, his head resting against your thigh. Both boys were the world's clingiest cuddle bugs, convinced they were the same person split into two.

After giving a small grunt and picking Harue up into his arms, Kenma shuffled his feet against the floor and left the room to tuck the child into the comfort of his bed. He returned, slouching back into his place, as you had to hold back your yawn letting him snuggle into you, his head resting against your chest. 

He makes a humming sound that almost sounds like he has been holding back on speaking. Over the volume of the show, you hardly hear it. He finally hesitates before asking, "Have you ever thought about having a baby?"

Your brows had actually raised in surprise as you looked down at him after the question. You only needed to notice the slight gleam in his eyes to know everything. 

Kenma considered wanting a second child, let alone having one with you. You gently answer back, "Oh, uh, I mean kinda," being careful not to answer wrongfully.

Kenma looks away from you while he plays with the sweatshirt's hem strings. "Kind of?" he repeats again in the hopes that you will clarify.

"Well, I mean, I wouldn't mind it," you sighed, losing all interest in the show. "It's just, I don't know, I prefer the whole tradition thing; getting married for love and then planting roots and starting a big family, you know."

"I could propose to you," Kenma admitted, his face glowing with excitement at the prospect of being married to you. "And then maybe you could move in. I’m sure Harue would love it—"

"Woah, Kenma, slow down," you interrupted, pushing away to give him enough space to sit up as you took his hand. "How about we just take it one step at a time, okay? First, I’ll move in, and then maybe much later we could have the marriage talk alright?"

Kenma smiles softly, interlacing your fingers with his as he brings your hand up to kiss your knuckle. "Okay, sorry, of course, we can take it slow,"  he agrees with a nod. 

"Also, do you realize how much harder it would be to have two kids running around?" you input, snatching your hand away to push at his chest. "I just had to teach you how to do your own laundry last week."

"In case you’ve forgotten, I raised Harue all on my own," Kenma pouts, pushing you back. "And he is a perfectly normal four-year-old," he adds lastly.

"Yeah, I know you did an amazing job, and I am very proud of you for that," Kenma's eyes darken with a glint, the compliment going straight to his dick as he tilts his head to the side, glancing at your lips before smiling at you.

You groaned, head leaning forward into his chest, taking a minute to juggle the pros and cons before muttering.

"Okay fine, but you better get me a pretty fucking ring."

🔖 @yazmunson / @prblmtic / @zuuki / @awkwardaardvarkforever / @jadeisthirsting / @urlocaltannenbaum / @pidwidge / @thisbicc /

tap here to be added to taglist.

[aces-and-angels]

Title: Just Try It (Vaughn ft. the Mercy Park Crew)

A/N: A forgotten fic found in the depths of my drafts- originally this was supposed to be for ROD week, but I never ended up posting it. Until now lol 

I have not seen a lot of Vaughn content since joining Tumblr. Maybe I’m not looking hard enough, or maybe this is the start of giving this side character the major love he deserves. Side characters create the perfect opportunity for crack!fics- and damn it, I want to create a crack!fic. Think of this as: if Ride or Die had a filler episode.

Rating: PG/PG-13 (Swearing)

Pairing(s): Colt x MC (implied)

Summary: Inspired by this article. Vaughn is in a culinary rut and needs to reignite his imagination. So, he calls up his favorite band of criminals to help him.

---

“Vaughn, you in there man? Are you hurt?” Logan frantically scanned his place for any signs of a break in. No broken windows- a good sign. He jiggled the doorknob. Locked. The eerie silence didn’t do any favors for his anxiety. He glanced down at the text that had him bolting out of the shop to his cousin’s apartment. 

Vaughn: HELP- need you here ASAP. 

“Wait a minute,” Logan yanked his wrist free, “you’re not being murdered?!”

His head snapped up at the sound of the door opening. “Thank God, you’re here!” Vaughn pulled him inside and shut the door. “We have a shit load to do. Sooner we start, the better.” Logan was dragged into the kitchen where he saw piles of grocery bags filling up all the counter space. Annoyed, he gave his very unharmed cousin a glare.

“Why would you think I was being murdered?” He shoved his phone in Vaughn's face. He squinted as he read the small text on the screen. “That message was accurate. I regret none of those words.”

“Vaughn, there’s an entire gang out currently hunting my ass down. The hell was I supposed to think?”

“Look, I’m sorry. But I’m fine, see?“ He twisted his harms, "No stab wounds, I can walk, and I still look incredible.” Logan’s lip twitched upwards, the worry fading away from his body.

“You’re a six at best,” he teased, chuckling at his cousin gasping in mock-offense. “So, what’s with all the food?” He got a better look of his kitchen island. Pickles, blueberries, sesame seeds. “And what the hell are you trying to make?”

“I’m in a rut man,” Vaughn sighed, ignoring his question. “I haven’t come up with any new dishes for the truck in weeks and customers are starting to notice.”

“Is it really that bad?” 

“Yes it’s really that bad,” he echoed, “now call up the rest of the dream team. We’ve got work to do.”

---

One quick text to the group chat later, the rest of the crew arrived and were sat in front of a table full of questionable looking dishes 

“Why did I come here?” Colt groaned, wishing he hadn’t followed Ellie.

Mona poked at a bowl of ice cream topped with diced pickles. “Full offense, V, I think these combos are going to put you out of business.” 

“We came because Vaughn needs our help,” she squeezed his hand underneath the table, partly to lift his spirits, mostly to make sure he didn’t run out the door. 

“You haven’t even tried anything yet,” he whined, setting down another one of his creations on the table, “look at Toby. Now that looks like a satisfied customer.” The group whirled their heads around to see him scarfing down a steak smothered in blueberry jam.  

“Wha-?” he asked, mouth full of food, “’s free.” 

Colt rolled his eyes, stabbing his fork into a green apple slice smothered in salsa. He took a deep breath before shoving the fork in his mouth. “How is it?” Ellie peered into her boyfriend’s eyes, trying to gauge his reaction. Wordlessly, he placed his fork to her lips for her to taste as well. She took a small bite, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Too much apple, not enough salsa.” 

“That’s what I thought,” Colt hummed, pushing the bowl back towards Vaughn. “You gotta dice the apple, man.” 

“It’s awful, but I can’t stop eating it.” His face contorted in disgust as he bit into another fry. “ My brain keeps gaslighting itself into thinking my experience is going to change.” 

“Dice the apple, got it,” Vaughn wrote down his feedback in his notepad. “Logan, how’re the honey chili fries with pickles?”

“Yeah, you can pair it with this salad that’s bringing up my repressed childhood trauma,” Mona deadpanned.

“Fries-induced Stockholm syndrome,” he scribbled another note down. “That could be a fun special, right?”

---

Over the next few hours, the crew reluctantly filled their stomachs with Vaughn’s experiments, each one stranger than the last. After the last dish, they all sprawled out in the living room. 

“I’m definitely going to poop weird later,” Toby blurted out, breaking the silence.

“Dude, shut up,” Logan groaned. He was lying flat on his back, trying to ignore the growing pain in his abdomen.

“If I have to try another pickle-infused dish, I’m going to kill the next thing that moves,” Colt threatened.

“I’ll help you,” Ellie grumbled, her cheery disposition replaced with utter regret after the fifth pickle-forward recipe. “Why don’t people just sell pickles by themselves? You don’t need to do anything special to them,” her rant was muffled into Colt’s shoulder. He attempted to soothe her by kissing her temple while lightly stroking her back. The gesture seemed to work, as he felt her shoulders relax into him.

“Could you two be less nauseating? I’m trying not to hack up that salad,” Mona glared at the touchy couple across from her. With his free hand, Colt flipped her off, the grip on his girlfriend slightly tightening in defiance. She responded by flipping him off with both her hands. 

“I know y’all are hurting right now, but I really appreciate the help,” Vaughn said earnestly. Despite the twinge of guilt that he felt at seeing his friends suffer, he was certain that all those taste tests would help him keep his food truck afloat.

“No worries, man. Glad we could help,” Logan said with a strained voice, a new wave of pain hitting his stomach. 

“Speak for yourself, pretty boy,” Colt scoffed. He turned his head towards Vaughn, “I’m serious about killing you if you shove another plate in my face.” 

“Noted,” he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, feel free to crash here until you feel better.” The crew members mumbled a bunch of nonsense, which Vaughn took as an okay. 

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Okokok here this: april, reader and casey try to prank the boys. How does it go. With who does it fails/success, what was the prank, do they get caught? Do the boys get revenge, and if so, how?

Also, splinter sees it all unfolds, does he just gets himself a snack and watch, or does he tries to subtly join in without getting caught? (We all know hes got a playful side cmon)

Bonus: they try to prank vern too, maybe the boys join in to prank him? What do they do? Does he retaliate?

Okay so I admit I let my brain go nuts on this one, so it's a little long but I was cackling the entire time I was writing it.

TMNT Headcanons

Prank Wars

Leonardo

In your complete and utter defence, Leo had 100% started this

And also in your defence, you did tell him not to

Twice

But he tricked you into watching a horror movie and ended up dying your hair green

This meant war

You'd even wrapped up April and Casey into it

Their problems were your problems

Which meant that April was the one who convinced Splinter not to say anything to his sons

He was perfectly happy to oblige

Casey was just there to help set things up

And you liked the way his mind worked

The objective wasn't to go unnoticed, there would be no point in doing it and having no proof

You were doing this to prove that you could

Leo had emphasized that he couldn't be distracted

That you were to obvious and clumsy to prank him without him noticing

Challenge fucking accepted

And that's how you ended up at the kitchen table eating lunch with April and Casey when the boys were coming back from meditating with Splinter

April kept having to shove food in her mouth to hide her laughter

Casey just decided to wear sunglasses

And you kept overpowering the urge to smirk

"Hey guys, good to see you. Y/n have you seen my katanas?"

With the obstruction of water in your mouth you just nodded at him, pointing to the other room

He sauntered off, none the wiser to your victorious grin

When he came back in only a moment later his expression had done a complete 180

Leo made direct eye contact with you and you held that stare like a wolf cornered in its den

"does someone want to explain why my katanas are encased in blueberry jello?"

You raised your hand like a child in class

"hate to break it to you, but it's actually berry blue you uncultured bitch"

Raphael

Ohhhh you were so undeniably dead

A whole other level of six feet under

It wasn't a surprise that April and Casey had backed out on this one

It also wasn't a surprise that Splinter had offered to stand up for you if things went sideways

Donnie even gave you a sheet of paper with a list of hiding spots before hand

All of this went completely unnoticed by Raph, the target of your latest scheme.

And that was fine, you had only one objective here-

Make it out alive

But it was amazing what 1 person could do with some extra cash and internet access

So that's what led you to your current position.

Cross legged on the bench, watching the large red terrapin get ready for his first set, that in itself wasn't unusual, you always watched him lift just in case you needed to run and grab someone if something went wrong

Raph was none the wiser to your plan

At least that's what you thought

Your book was in your lap and you were calmly scanning your pages, somewhat comprehending the words but keeping a very close eye on the turtle across from you

"Hey y/n?"

You peeked over the edge of your book to meet his eyes

And your heart sank to your stomach

"Yeah Raph?"

He smirked at you, taking a lumbering step forward

"You ever seen that episode of the Office where Jim fills Dwight's phone with nickels so when he takes 'em out Dwight punches himself in the face?"

Shit shit shit shit shit shit-

"Uh... No, can't say that I have, why do you ask?"

That damn smile got even wider and all of your muscles tensed, you were ready to bolt

"I'm giving you a fifteen second headstart. Starting right now."

You flew to your feet and sprinted out of the weight room

"DONNIE WE GOTTA CODE RED!"

Your lungs were ready to burst by the time you made it to your decided hiding spot. Heavy footsteps went right underneath you and you held your breath, you wouldn't dare move.

You didn't come down until hours later when Splinter came and coaxed to you out of hiding

But deep down you knew you'd started something you couldn't finish.

Vern Fenwick

You didn't even have to convince the guys to partake in this

You didn't even get the chance to tell them what you were planning

They were already brainstorming

None of you let a word of it slip to April, she would've shut you down faster than you could blink

A complete buzz kill

But fake blood was relatively cheap and all of Vern's flooring was tile (meaning extremely easy to clean and bleach)

Donnie had really been the mastermind behind the execution, none of you had any idea how he'd rigged the apartment plumbing

But he'd assured you it would only affect Vern's suite and no one else's so you didn't concern yourself with it further

And after the fact you had to wonder what exactly the former cameraman was planning on the date he'd been in the middle of

All you knew was that you got a very frantic call from the falcon himself yelling about blood coming out of his tap and the sink wouldn't shut off and it was everywhere and what the fuck was happening?

You all knew that Splinter thought it was hilarious, he'd never been particularly fond of Vern

But he did make his sons assist in the clean up and bleaching of the victims apartment floor

You went too and offered moral support

Vern had hit on you one too many times, so there was no way you'd feel bad about this

Michaelangelo

As far as pranking went, you and Mikey were partners in crime

He always had great ideas and you always came up with the best ways to execute those ideas without getting caught

But when you separated those two chaos was guaranteed

You weren't entirely sure how you had been pitted against each other but you weren't entirely mad about it

You couldn't say the same for anyone else though, the others had been on edge all week.

Pranking Mikey was a challenge, he knew how you worked and vice versa

You'd been brainstorming with April for weeks now, maybe a new perspective would help

That's what the two of you told yourselves anyways

Much to your dismay, Mikey and Casey had been plotting against you as well, the traitor.

And perhaps even more unfortunate was the fact that both of your pranks somehow overlapped and backfired on the rest of the family

Because Mikey and Casey may have replaced the family tea set with a edible sugar replica that looked identical to the original

So that when you were asked to make tea for Splinter and Leo it would dissolve the second you poured the hot tea

But they didn't tell anyone else so Leo was left with an impromptu anxiety attack when he made his own tea before sitting down to meditate and it melted into sugary leaf water

And you and April had planned the 'cutting off your finger in the kitchen' with the knife, fake finger, and fake blood

Which in theory should've worked because Mikey was in the kitchen the most, that was his territory

However once you'd started your plan you couldn't stop it

so when you 'cut your finger off' and screamed for Mikey you didn't have time to yell "wait it's a prank!" before Donnie caught a glimpse of the scene and fainted

In your defence you didn't know the purple turtle could move that fast

And to Mikey's relief he was going to throw that cutting board out anyways

Splinter explicitly banned the two of you from pranking each other after that incident

Donatello

Per your own common sense you had come to the conclusion that pranking the families resident genius was a horribly stupid idea

So for once, you'd practiced some self control and refrained from any pranks involving Donnie

Now that's not to say that the turtle vowed from aiming any pranks towards you

He had morals but messing with you walked the line separating adorable from batshit crazy

And he was all for it

April advised against it severely and even Splinter seemed to think it wasn't the best idea, but that was a lesson his son had to learn on his own

On the flip side, the second Casey heard about Donnie's plan he was all for it

So when you came over for dinner they both had to hide their excited smiles as Casey passed you your spaghetti

He knew it was your favorite

Everyone else was oblivious, which looking back on it was a very bad thing

April had her suspicions that Donnie was pulling something this evening, but she couldn't put her finger on it

That wasn't until you swirled a mouthful of noodles around your fork and shoved it into your mouth, you were starving

Here lies your predicament-

You swallowed thickly and blinked like you were in pain, your hand went to your throat and you reached for your water, ending up chugging almost the entire bottle.

Your eyes met Donnie's in a serious type of concern

"Is there hot sauce in this?"

April choked on her breadstick and quickly covered her mouth

Casey hadn't picked up on it yet

"Awh yeah- how'd you figure it out so quickly?"

You erupted in a coughing fit that sent April rushing to your side before you could tumble to the floor

"You fucking assholes! Y/N has a capsaicin allergy! Casey go start the car we need to get them to the hospital!"

On the bright side you were fine after you were rushed to the ER

But you didn't speak to Donnie or Casey for two weeks following the accident

You eventually forgave them for it and they haven't targeted you since

Sorry if it got a little dark at the end, but I felt like it was more realistic. Also that has actually happened to me but it was a nut allergy (and that's how I found out I was allergic to cashews) But I feel like the ending was a good example of how pranking someone can go horribly wrong, you should always consider the possibilities before doing something that could cause harm to a person. (Unless they really really deserve it)

I really enjoyed writing this one and I hope you guys like it as much as I do! 😁🧡👍

-Mars 🌠

[disco-tea]

1x08 background details:

This episode is titled I Heard A Rumor and opens with Allison while a version of Stormy Weather sung by Emmy Raver-Lampman plays in the background. It’s also raining/storming as she drives.

Interestingly, this could also correspond with the fact that the weatherman on the tv in 1x01 said about how it was going to rain later on in the week.

Claire has what I’m pretty sure is a stuffed monkey during the flashback scene.

Five is not present during Allison’s bedtime story about the Academy stopping the robbers at the museum.

When Allison thinks about all her Rumors, some of them are in her young voice and some in her adult voice.

Young Allison: I heard a rumor I made the soccer team.

Young Allison: I heard a rumor you wanna he my friend.

Adult Allison: I heard a rumor you like broccoli.

Young Allison: I heard a rumor you left me alone.

Adult Allison: I heard a rumor you stopped crying.

Adult Allison: I heard a rumor I did it in one take.

Adult Allison: I heard a rumor you think I’m perfect for this role.

Adult Allison: I heard a rumor you love me.

There’s also 3 other times her younger self speaks, but she doesn’t finish the sentence and it overlaps with another.

The opening logo appears on a billboard for the Wolpert and Nedivi law firm. Matt Wolpert and Ben Nedivi are both screenwriters for the show.

Idk if the writers even knew anything about the Sparrows yet, but there’s a lot of birds this season as well. There’s even a bird that flies out and scares Allison as she’s looking around Leonard’s cabin.

Klaus’ coffee was so bad Five tried to wipe his tongue off. 😂

Five hasn’t even been back for a week, but he already knows where the aspirin is even though Luther doesn’t.

Also he’s wearing fluffy slippers with his pjs he looks so comfy 😭

There’s also weights and dumbbells in the kitchen/kid’s space/old laundromat.

When Pogo says Reginald had Grace’s programming adjusted Five says “sick bastard.” I will take my tiny Five/Grace crumb and go now.

Luther, to Pogo: Any other damn secrets!?

Five: Hey, calm down, Luther.

Klaus: Luuuther.

Also just want to point out that Five is in his PJs at the table but in the next scene he’s back to his uniform, I was originally going to count this as a clothing change, which would have made for a grand total of 3, but now it’s 2 because HE PUT THE DIRTY CLOTHES BACK ON OKAY. He picked up the candy/tracker from the Handler in 1x06 and still has it in 1x10. Which means he didn’t actually put clean clothes on after bleeding all over them (bad Fivey!)

Vanya’s scarf blew off when she unleashed her powers in the parking lot and Allison found it. In 1x05 she complemented Vanya and said “nice scarf,” so that’s how she knew it was hers.

Reginald’s notes said Vanya’s powers had been effective in a ‘controlled environment’ before he started training her with the tunning fork

Five is still limping and using surfaces for support. :(

Diego met Harold exactly one (1) time yet is seemily dragging him by telling Luther you can’t trust somebody who wears corduroy. Luther also wears corduroy. 🤣

Klaus (I think?) trying to help Five out the door.

Agnes won a Donut Choice Award in 1997.

When Cha Cha blows up Griddys Donuts, Stay With Me by Mary J. Blige (the actress) plays in the background.

Allison is walking around with a dust jacket to Extra Ordionary in her pocket. (She tries to show it to the guy from the parking lot fight, and later the nurse.) I don’t know where she got it but my best guess is either the Academy library or Five’s things.

Just a quick random overarching detail I noticed, as Vanya’s powers develop through the series, she starts wearing her hair down instead of up, and her clothes become more colorful.

Leonard told Vanya his dad was an engineer.

In the flashback with 4 year old Vanya and Allison, Grace says that Vanya’s favorite is grilled cheese.

When they’re on their way to Allison, Luther asks Five if he can drive any faster and Five tells him if he asks him again he’ll burn him with the cigarette lighter. Yet, he speeds up anyway. (He shifts his hands and you can hear the engine)

I’m sorry but I just think it’s really funny that there’s three ‘adults’ in the car, yet the ‘13 year old’ with the shrapnel wound is driving. I mean I’m not arguing he’s probably the best/most capable but we know Luther can drive because he does it in 1x05, Klaus “can’t” but still did it, Diego’s arm is injured but he can still drive with it because he did in 1x07. It’s just really funny and I would’ve loved to have seen the conversation that led up to it. 🤣

I just like that all the brothers are there.

[thesnowinthemountains]

NCT 127’s First Time Saying I Love You

(a/n:  1. i wrote a good half of these drunk, so apologies for the excessive fluff 2. i didnt know i was whipped for mark until i wrote that okay im sorry 3. i nearly threw my laptop out the window trying to post this please love it)

Taeil

You were sitting across from each other at the small dinner table in your apartment’s kitchen - the only one you could afford for the time being. There was barely enough space for two plates and glasses, but neither of you seemed to mind the proximity, and Taeil kept staring at you, which distracted you anyway. “What is it?” You asked for the millionth time. “Nothing, nothing,” he replied calmly, going back to his food, but just pushing it around his plate. Not a minute passed before he did it again. You swallowed a bite of food, sighed, and calmly put your fork down. “Taeil, what?” You asked, sharper this time. He smiled to himself and took a second before looking at you. “Your eyes are a really nice color.” He said, failing to hide a mocking smile. You frowned. “Why are you laughing?” You were just confused at this point. “I don’t know how to do this, just-” he breathed, gathering himself. “I love you.” Now you blushed, looking down. “I love you too,” you mumbled. 

Johnny

You came home from a long day of work, swearing to yourself you were going to quit. You needed to, your current job was starting to get to your head and affect your moods. You slammed the door on your way in, tossed your bag aside and launched yourself into the couch. You let out a long groan and a few seconds later, Johnny’s voice came from the hallway. “Long day?” he laughed, settling himself in the space next to you so you could lay your head in his lap. “God, you have no idea,” you sighed. You sat together quietly for a while, him playing with your hair until you were almost asleep in his lap. He let out a pensive hum. “What?” You murmured, eyes closed.   “I love you,” he said simply, like it was a fact he just read online.  “You just made my day,” you laughed softly.

Taeyong

You couldn’t remember what you had said, but he had smiled, his eyes bright, and you just knew. It was easy. He was so easy to fall in love with, easy to be around, your whole relationship was easy and fun. You were in a perfect space. He got excited about ducklings, and made little noises to himself when he cooked. He cooked. He liked big sweaters, and you liked borrowing them; they smelled like him. You liked to sleep in his bed, too, liked waking up surrounded with everything that was him and about him. It was a little while later and you couldn’t hold it in any longer, afraid your heart might just burst if you did.  “I love you,” you said it heavily, like it had been weighing on you and just the mere action of putting it out into the world would heal you of all your ailments.  “I love you too,” he smiled over the pot on the stove in front of him. You revelled in the domesticity of it, ready to pause this moment and never let it go.

Yuta

You and Yuta had met through mutual friends, ones he played soccer with, and ones you were in various classes with. You were at a study group with them one evening, going over notes from the past week’s classes, trying to gather information for an upcoming midterm essay you were dreading. One of their phones rang. “Hey, Yuta, what’s up?” You didn’t want to eavesdrop on the conversation, but your ears perked up on their own. “Study group. Yeah, she’s here, you wanna talk to her?” Your friend now looked at you from across the desk. He handed you his phone, but mumbled a quick: “Keep it short.” “Hey,” you spoke into the phone after pulling your tongue at your friend. “Hey, I was just thinking about you.” You heard the smile in Yuta’s voice. You smiled in return. “Oh?” “Yeah, I was just thinking I love you. You know, if you’re, uh... into that.” You could hear him shuffling with something on his end, and he was not a nervous person, but you could tell he was trying hard to be casual. “I see,” you decided to toy with him. “Well, then.” “Well, what?” The shuffling stopped. You hummed loudly, like you were thinking something over. He sighed. “Fine, fine, I love you too,” you smiled down at your notes before your friend snatched his phone back from your hand. “That’s enough of that,” he spoke into the phone, but looked at you, addressing you both. You pouted at him but a smile quickly crept back on your face.

Doyoung

This was to be the dinner during which you would introduce Doyoung to some friends of yours to test the waters, see how he would get along, see if they liked him. It was a work dinner, relatively casual, where some of your favorite coworkers were joking among themselves, and poking fun at other people around the table. You were in the younger ones, the newer hires, so you, Doyoung, and a handful of work friends sat at the farthest edge of the table. Doyoung was chatting away with a girl he didn’t seem to realize was in fact a close friend of yours. He looked away for a moment and she flashed you a thumbs up, and an impressed look. You smiled to yourself, happy to have the stamp of approval. “What’s so funny?” Doyoung focused all his attention on you now. You laughed to yourself quietly before meeting his eyes. “I love you,” you cocked your head. He blushed, but grabbed your hand under the table. “I love you too,” he kissed the side of your head, going back to his conversation. There was no helping your lovestruck smile, and a friend of yours across the table made fun of you for it, but you couldn’t be bothered to care.

Jaehyun

You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth, washing your face, doing all the final things of the day, when Jaehyun leaned into the bathroom’s door frame. He was just watching you, and when you eventually looked back at him, he looked down. You went back to what you were doing, and he walked up behind you, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck. “What’s up?” You giggled. “I love you,” he mumbled against your neck before looking at you through the mirror again. Eyes wide, you turned to face him. He looked down at you, not saying anything. “Well, I love you too, then.” You laughed, pulling him into a kiss.

Winwin

It was late, you knew it, but you and Winwin were huddled together under a big cozy blanket on the couch watching episode after episode of your current favorite show. You had noticed him dozing off time and again, waking himself up with a start each time. You didn’t want to disrupt him, but there was an important scene involving his favorite character, so you lightly shook him awake, his head coming up from your chest and his eyes opening slowly. He looked somehow like both a puppy and an angel and you couldn’t believe you got to see him in moments like these. At that point, you had forgotten why you had woken him up in the first place, and the television was just background noise. “I love you,” you breathed, and your heartbeat sped up almost instantly. He smiled a small, happy smile. “I love you too,” he whispered, laying his head back on your chest, eyes closed.

Jungwoo

You were taking a walk around the neighbourhood. It was a perfect day, the sun shining but just enough of a chill to entice you to wear your favorite sweater. He was commenting on the surroundings, making silly jokes and getting giggles out of you. In the midst of his narration of your environment - the houses and cars and the little lives of the little people in all of them, their fun names and jobs and hobbies - he cut himself off. “I love you,” he said hurriedly before going back to his antics. “What?” You laughed. “What?” He looked at you innocently. “Oh, what, the “I love you”? Yeah.” He shrugged. “Is that a big surprise?” “No, I guess not,” you acquiesced, “I love you too, though.” You elbowed him playfully.  “Well, good, I hope so! You’d better!” He exclaimed, then smiled to himself.

Mark

You had found that loving Mark came in stages. First, you picked up little habits he had - none too specific, but you took notice and would smile to yourself. Then, you would go out of your way to make him laugh, because the sun shone in his eyes when he did. It went on like this until you finally admitted to yourself that you were in love with him, this cute dorky guy with the weird ears and sweet smile. You never said anything, and you figured if you ever did, things would get awkward and eventually your friendship might phase out, which was worse than pretending you felt nothing at all. One night, though, the two of you were in the middle of playing video games when you made a joke that had him doubled over in laughter. “Fuck, I love you!” He exclaimed through his laughter before getting very serious very fast. “Oh, I- I mean the- the- I- uh...” he stammered on like this until he noticed the look on your face. “What?” He eventually asked, startled by his own words and your wide eyes.  “I wouldn’t be mad if you did,” you said quietly, in what was probably the most serious tone you’d ever used around him. “Love me, I mean.” He stared at you, giggled, and got this big, stupid grin on his face. You thanked all your lucky stars and every light in the universe for allowing him into existence, into your life, and allowing him to feel for you as you did for him. 

Haechan

You had gone to laser tag with friends, and you had made him swear he wouldn’t somehow cheat, or eliminate you in some snide way. Ultimately, you knew perfectly well that he was the sort of boy who played dirty or not at all, so when he snuck up behind you and you heard the loud sounds of your elimination, you were mildly annoyed, but not surprised. You turned to stare at him, mouth open in mock offense. “Haechan!” You cried. “It’s the game, don’t blame the player,” he held his hands up innocently. You fumed, sticking your tongue in your cheek to stop from snapping back. You moved to catch him and he ran away. “I love you?” he called back, his laughter echoing, while you sighed and returned to your team’s home base. 

[azeleahehe]

My shit is not working lmao

"STOP, PUTTING FLOUR ALL OVER MY CLOTHES" Lily brushed off the flour on her clothes making the three laugh, "YOU STARTED IT" Lisa laughed, "Ugh, whatever let's just finish this" she rolled her eyes at the three that was laughing, "Anyways, I have a plan, on how to tell clay or dream, that we know he is that green blob bitch!" Lily yelled, "and How are we gonna do that?" Sofie asked, "Tell him, "Hi dream" AHaahaha" Lily laughed, "That's actually pretty funny, please do?" Lisa giving her the puppy eyes, "That would be funny actually" Claudia laughed, "fine, but if something goes wrong i blame the three of you" she accepted their plan, "Or maybe like Clay or Dream" Lisa laughed, "That would be funny" Claudia chuckled a bit,

"Okay, we need to wait like 15-20 minutes I don't know" Sofie spoke, "Kay, I'll watch s2 ep8" Lily yelled going to the living room to watch their favorite show Euphoria | A/N love that show even though im like young to watch that hawdhwadhwajkah | "don't watch without us you fuck" Lisa yelled, suddenly a the doorbell rang, "I'll get that!" Sofie yelled, She stood up from the chair and headed to her front door, opening it to see Clay standing in front of her "Hi! d-Dream!" Sofie stuttered trying not to laugh, "H- DREAM? WHAT?" Clay or should I say dream yelled confusing, he then realized and sighed, "Clay or Dream?" Sofie asked, "Hm, Dream is a cool mine-" He got cut off, "WE KNOW THAT CLAY, ALSO WHAT'RE YOU DOING HERE WE DIDN'T ASK YOU TO COME" Claudia yelled making Sofie laugh "THE BOYS WERE OFFLINE" he yelled back lying he just wanted to come get to know her and hang out with her, "Can't a friend visit? I also want to try the pie" he rolled his eyes at Claudia that just got there, "Yeah whatever just go inside" Claudia talked, Clay following behind Sofie that was walking to the living room where Lisa and Lily was, "Oh hi Dream! finally got to call you that!" Lisa yelled, Lily laughing, "We already knew you were Dream, but we didn't want you to be uncomfortable" Lily smiled, "To be honest, I wouldn't since my Sister trusts you both" He sat beside Sofie that was sitting on the White Sofa she has placing his arm on the back rest, The three noticing, decided to take pictures of them without the two seeing, they almost got caught by Sofie but she brushed it off, a few minutes later the timer that they set up went off making them remember that they were baking something, Sofie stood up and headed to the kitchen, "YES BB ENCOURAGE HERRR!!!" and "I LOVE YOU KAT BUT LET HER BE VIOLENTTTT!!" and "SHE DESERvED THAT I LOVE THE ACTOR SHES GOOD BUT CASSIE DESERVED ITTT" and "YES MADDYYYY GET HERR" the three kept yelling, on the screen was Maddy chasing Cassie behind them was Kat and BB | A/N not spoiling it watch it yourself also hunter is so pretty like what??? marry me pls😋👊|

Clay was sitting there confused on what they were watching since he never watched the show, Finally stood there was Sofie with a tray, in that tray had 5 slices of pie on plates, she walked to the sofa, Clay giving her space to walk, she placed the tray on the coffee table beside candles and decorations placed on top of it, Claudia,Lily,Lisa taking the plates that of course had a fork/spoon on each plate, Sofie taking one and giving it to Clay, Also taking the other for herself, "she beat her up??" She asked Lily, "YEAH SHE DID!!" Lily clapped, "That's good!!" she yelled dragging the 'd', Clay took the first bite of the pie "That's good as what nan used to make, it almost tastes the same" he spoke his mouth full, "bitch swallow that food before you speak" Claudia rolled her eyes, "you do the same in my house??" he talked back he already swallowed the food ofc, "Ugh whatever shut up you're being annoying, at least I have manners" she spoke, "You don't" he spoke Claudia rolling her eyes again, The episode ended and empty plates on the coffee table, they ended up watching random videos they found interesting from the internet, Being the sleepyheads(Lisa,Claudia,Lily_ they are they of course fell asleep 😋, Sofie noticed it and took blankets from the cabinet under the coffee table, Clay was tired and was trying not to fall asleep, of course he fell asleep, Sofie closed all the electronics that were wasting electric, and sat back on the couch or sofa, and slept on it | A/N not because i was lazy and in rush 😍👊|

𝗔𝘇𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗮 𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 📝 very sorry for rushing it but i needed to do that for a reason and f2f is cancelled for me les gooo!! !!! because there was a covid patient in the city sooo, I stopped taking care of myself but im working on it! :D !

𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟕, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 : 𝟏𝟏:𝟓𝟏 𝐏𝐌 (1939 Words)

[ace-in-a-shopping-cart]

Day 1

Prompt: Your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist or palm. 

Word Count: 1,455

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01,​​​ @spoopy-turtle,​​​ @lizluvscupcakes,​​ @more-fandon-than-friends​, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo

Soulmate taglist (Send an ask to be added or removed!): @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, 

Virgil has always kept his soulmark covered. It wasn’t like there was anything wrong with it, he just didn’t want his life to be ruled by it. He kept his leather cuff on so he didn’t know what was underneath it. In theory, he knew that a name was written on his wrist and he thought he knew who’s name it was but he’d never seen it and didn’t really want to.

That was, until he’d met Logan. When he’d met Logan, they’d gotten off on the wrong foot, almost feeling like complete opposites. Where Virgil was shy, Logan was confident. Where Logan knew what he was talking about, Virgil second guessed himself at every opportunity. Over time, they learned their commonalities: both having a love for science, being on the same intellectual level, both introverts, both quiet. When they’d figured out that they weren’t so different, they’d teamed up for their final project in college, getting a better grade than either had ever gotten individually. After that, they’d kept in contact as friends.

Neither had ever removed the leather cuff that had been around their wrists since they could read. So, they fell in love naturally. They moved in together after a few years of knowing each other. Logan was the one who proposed. It was after a quiet night in, empty takeout containers still on the coffee table, the end credits of an episode of their favorite show rolling over the screen. It was quiet and private and perfect.

Now, Virgil’s doubts were starting to creep in. He didn’t want them to, but he couldn’t help it. He tried to block the thoughts with loud music or hot showers but nothing worked. Instead, they were always in the back of his mind, always whispering to him. Thoughts of unworthiness, of Logan finding his actual soulmate and leaving Virgil for them, of Logan coming to resent Virgil for not being his soulmate.

This was how he found himself sitting at his kitchen table, Logan out getting groceries. He had his wrist sitting on the table, the latch for the cuff facing upwards. All he had to do was take it off and, he hoped, the doubts would go away and he could go on with his happy life with Logan.

He took a deep breath and unhooked the latch, letting the leather fall away. On his wrist, written in handwriting he would recognize anywhere, was ‘Logan Croft’. He sighed in relief, slumping against the table. Logan was his soulmate for sure, he should be able to rest easy at night now.

Only, he couldn’t. The doubts in his mind weren’t satisfied, instead, they were picking up in volume. The thoughts still circled him like vultures, telling him Logan might be his soulmate but he can’t be sure he’s Logan’s, that he might have another out there that would treat him better. It didn’t matter that the chances of that were extremely low, he should know having had soulmate studies as his major, nor did it matter that Logan loved him no matter who’s name was written on their wrists. The thoughts were still there, still nipping at his heels. He stood, the cuff laying abandoned on the table, and moved to unload the dishwasher, hoping the task would take his mind off it. He ended up blasting music and challenging himself to clean as much of the house as he could before Logan came home.

By the time his fiance walked through the front door, he’d managed to clean the whole downstairs and was working on the bedroom, cleaning out the little nooks and crannies as he put everything back in working order. Logan’s footsteps on the stairs were drowned by the almost pulsing music Virgil had going, Logan’s knock went unanswered. It wasn’t until he turned the music off that Virgil finally noticed him. He stopped the almost manic sorting of the shoe rack that’d been neat before he’d touched it but was now color coded and sorted by size.

Logan sighed. “It must have been something bad for you to resort to cleaning the clean stuff.” He held a hand out to help Virgil to his feet. “Wanna talk about it?” His eyes glanced down to the bare wrist attached to the hand he was holding but he didn’t mention it, much to Virgil’s relief.

Virgil just shrugged, shuffling forward in a request for a hug. Logan wrapped his arms around him, holding him as tight as he could and laying his chin on Virgil’s shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, just enjoying the feel of the other in their arms. Virgil couldn’t help but wonder if this was the last time he’d get to hug Logan like this.

When Logan pulled away, Virgil was able to see tear stains had appeared on his shirt. Virgil sniffled, wiping his eyes. “Sorry.” He muttered.

Logan shook his head. “It’s nothing that won’t be fixed in the wash. Do you wanna talk about it?”

It was Virgil’s turn to shake his head, stepping around Logan to head down the stairs. He heard the bedroom door close and figured Logan had decided to change out of business casual. Virgil found the cold stuffs had already been put away so dealt with everything else before getting started on dinner. Logan came down and sat at the kitchen table. Virgil glanced up from the cookbook in front of him. “How was your day?” He asked in as neutral a tone as he could manage.

Logan nodded and began talking about his students and their familiar antics throughout the day. As a college professor, Logan had many anecdotes about students and some faculty. Their evening progressed onward in the same fashion, Virgil working on making a meal while Logan distracted him as best he could.

When Virgil placed the plates on the table, Logan gave him a squeeze around the waist and a kiss on the forehead. “Thank you.”

Virgil just nodded, sitting down only to pick up his fork and feel like he’d puke if he tried to even take a bite. Logan paused, his food laden fork halfway to his mouth. Sighing, he put it down and uncurled Virgil’s hand, holding it. “What’s got you so down, darling?”

Virgil felt the tears well up again at the endearment, part of his mind still telling him he doesn’t deserve it. His vision blurred and the next thing he knew, Logan was kneeling by his side with an arm around his waist. He took the time to calm down, silencing the thoughts with much difficulty. When he felt like he could speak again, he turned to look at Logan. “I guess we do need to talk about this.” His voice was watery but strong.

Logan nodded, standing to sit in his own chair, hand never leaving Virgil’s. “I noticed you took your cuff off. Is that what this is about? Am I not-”

Virgil couldn’t bear the end of that sentence, sitting forward as if he could push the words back into Logan’s mouth. “No, you are! It’s just,” he sighed, “I don’t know if I’m yours.”

Logan nodded. “It’s about time we found out anyways.” He released Virgil’s hand to unlatch his own leather cuff. He twisted his arm so the inner arm was facing Virgil, showing him the words written in Virgil’s scrawl, ‘Virgil Strand’. “It’s you.” Logan picked up Virgil’s hand again, kissing his knuckles. “It’s always been you.”

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief, his mind finally coming to a standstill at the news. “I worried . . .” His voice trailed off as he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

 Logan nodded in another instance of seeming to read Virgil’s mind. “Even if my wrist said someone else’s name, even if your’s said someone else's name, it would still be you. We choose our own fate, not destiny, not some birthmarks. We still love each other and that’s all that matters right now.”

Virgil smiled, leaning over the table and the forgotten meal to kiss the man he’d fallen in love with. “Thank you. For being here for me, for always knowing what to say, for understanding me.”

Logan smiled, kissing him again briefly. “Always.” He finally released Virgil again, picking up the now lukewarm plates. “I’ll go heat these up. Be back in a few.”

The rest of the night was spent as domestically as their engagement night was, both falling asleep curled in the other’s arms, Logan’s head on Virgil’s chest. Virgil slept with a smile on his face and a hand carded through Logan’s hair. Logan fell asleep with a hand over Virgil’s heart and a matching smile on his face.

[im-justso-bored]

Week 5 of Clown Theories and Analysis

S03E05 - Are You From Pinner?

So this episode is definitely top three favorite for me. Jodie’s talent and performance continues to amaze me. Villanelle has really developed since season 1 and her development really peaked with this episode. Even her development throughout this episode was substantial which is what I will focus on in this post. 

Who are you? - V stopping to look at pictures and picking up things through the house was a nice touch. You could really see how she was transported back to her childhood in Russia when she picked up certain items like the soda. And how she was piecing together what she could of the years she lost with her family in the photographs on the wall. I can imagine it must have pained her a bit to see her mother in the photos seeing as she hasn’t seen her mother or pictures of her in many years. 

There’s a lot of initial shock here, mixed in with nostalgia. I think a big part of the shock we see here is due to how content her mother looks in the photos with people V doesn’t know. Given her history with her mother, V might have expected her mother to be on her own, maybe with her brother, Pyotr. I think the last thing she expected was to see her mother happy with a family. Especially since V sees her mother carrying the same darkness and V is, for the most part, alone. So she might have expected the same of her mother. 

Whatever emotions she’s feeling though are soon buried and her behavior quickly becomes playful and coy when approached by the different members of the family until her mom comes home and she starts to panic. 

She had to know that her mom would be there or at least, be there soon. So why panic? I think up until she heard the car in the driveway, she hadn’t really thought about the repercussions of going to see her family or what it would be like to see her mom again. I think once she heard her outside, the panic set in as it really dawned on her that she would really see her mother again. For a moment, she was transported back to her childhood and saw who her mother really was, and not the smiling wife and mother in the photographs on the wall.

Here, V is clearly shocked by her mother’s reaction to seeing her daughter alive but about halfway through the hug, V’s facial expression changes to show a little bit of anger? Also maybe disbelief at her mother’s behavior, maybe she doesn’t believe her reaction to be genuine, instead she sees it as part of her act. It seems that her mother never shows her true self when other people are around, I can imagine it was much the same when V was a child since her father never picked up on who her mother really was. So V probably thinks the same of this scene, that her mother is putting up an act since other people are around.

Many is a very loose term. - So the details about the orphanage explains the arson in her prison file, well one account of arson seeing as she did it twice. I wonder if the manslaughter of a minor had something to do with the orphanage or perhaps that’s what landed her in a juvenile detention center later in life.

You can tell that V’s mother really wasn’t bothered by the fact that V killed “many” people nor by the nonchalant response V gave her regarding that. This is one of the first hints we get about her mother’s darkness. You can also see that V isn’t bothered by the fact that she was dumped at the orphanage during this scene, they talk about it as if they’re having a normal conversation. Which adds depth to V saying “I didn’t mind that you took me there” at the end of the episode. 

You can tell that V’s guard is still up around her mother but I think she lowers it a bit as curiosity takes over when going through the photos as she starts asking more questions trying to piece together the last several years.

“Why didn’t you leave him?” “Is that me?” “Where’s dad?”

It’s sad that V didn’t get to see a picture of her dad, you can tell she really cared about him.

Welcome home, Oksana. - You can tell that V is still feeling really out of place but she’s trying to fit in. I think a big part of that has to do with still getting over the initial shock of seeing her mother in a “new light” and getting used to the rest of the family. She seems to be really comfortable with Bor’ka and Pyotr though. I don’t think V really knew what to expect when she came to Russia but I think the last thing she expected was to play cards with her family and then break out into song. I think that’s when she realized that they’re all a bunch of misfits and that she actually might fit in more than she expected. 

While rewatching, I found the scene where they were playing cards to be interesting. The step-brother (I forgot his name) was accusing V of being the “killer” but in actuality it was her mom, I thought that was an interesting parallel for the ending where V is saying that her and her mother are the same. It also made me wonder if her mother is actually a killer and if maybe she had something to do with her dad’s death. I don’t think they ever explained what happened to him. Correct me, if I’m wrong though!

Having a moment. - The relationship between Pyotr and V is really cute, you can tell that he really cares about her and missed her. And while V doesn’t show it much through her actions or her words, you can tell she cares too. Like when she’s telling him to get away from their mother and do what he wants to do. It also seems like he is the only one that V is most comfortable being herself around. 

Also watching V eat in this scene with the way her teeth dragged against the fork made my teeth hurt.

She was different. - In the conversation with her step-father, you can see that V is trying to figure out if he knew the type of person her mother is. Through the conversation, she’s able to distinguish that the only things that her mother shared with him was how difficult a child Villanelle was and how things were so hard for her during that time making it seem like V only made it worse. Nothing about how her mother was basically the same type of difficult person that V is. Typical gaslighting. 

You can see that V isn’t really surprised by it either. And then, right on cue, her mother comes out with tea and offers a gift to V. Throughout the episode, you see V’s mother being overly nice and emotional toward V who takes it with a grain of salt for most of the episode until the end, of course. I think V was genuinely surprised and happy to receive the gift from her mother, despite not fully believing the act she puts on. 

The Harvest Festival - It was really refreshing to see V actually enjoy herself at the festival when playing all of the different games and then when her family cheered for her when she won first place. I think this is where she really felt like she found somewhere she belonged. I think when Bor’ka lost the competition for best pirozhki and her mother came up to talk to him, she began to think that maybe she had changed after all (until she finds out what she actually said later on). 

Also can we talk about how V actually feels bad for him? We’ve seen V continue to sympathize with so many people this season and it still surprises me each time. S1 Villanelle would never haha if that’s not growth then idk what is. I really like how V seems to care about Bor’ka and bonds with him throughout the episode, especially during the dancing scene at the end of the festival when he starts hitting himself. You even see her trying to console him in her own way. 

Here is when V realizes that her mother really hasn’t changed at all and she’s probably upset with herself for believing that she did even if it was just briefly. I really liked this scene, how it distorted and faded out with the song playing “I see darkness in you” and the whole mood just shifts and transitions to V in the kitchen. 

I want to feel like one. - V asking her mom to clean her face for her was a vulnerable moment for her. Even the “please” she added after. How often do we hear V say please? V is often very childish and in this moment, she really need her mother to act like a mother but she didn’t. She was trying to connect with her mother in the only way she knew how. The last time she saw her, she was a child so V wanted to pick up where they left off only to be disappointed yet again. Throughout the episode, you see her mother putting up an act, pretending to be the nice mother that everyone sees, but when it’s just her and V while everyone is asleep, she shows her true self.

I am my mother’s daughter. - Another fantastic performance from Jodie! She never ceases to amaze me. This scene was the tipping point for V. Her mother’s response here is what would have made or broken her. V cared for her father a lot and having her mother constantly blaming V for “taking everything from her” and “controlling her father and taking him from her” took a toll on V. Especially since the whole time her mother was pointing her finger at her and never once acknowledging her role in everything. 

The way V is literally kneeling in front of her (when have we ever seen her make herself smaller for anyone?) practically begging her mother to admit that she’s the same. She can barely keep herself together, it’s taking everything to keep it together. But her mother doesn’t relent, making V feel more alone and shittier than she did before. As soon as her mother tells her to leave again, you see V break her composure for a bit before making the decision to kill her. She even has to stop for a sec while saying it (”I think I need to kill you, mama”), because maybe she is even in disbelief by what she’s about to do, or perhaps hesitant to do it. But V probably thinks that the only way she would free herself of what she is feeling would be by killing her. Which, it doesn’t, of course. The damage was done and nothing could have made that better for her. It just left her all the more damaged.

On a side note, I like how even in the mental state that she was in, she still saved Bor’ka and left money for him to go live out his dream. 

Crocodile Rock - That’s the name of the song V was listening to at the end of the episode, right?

So V is completely unhinged now. This trip to see her family left her more broken and hurt than she was before. She’s lost all her composure as you can see through the constant moving and jittering, trying to focus on the music but her emotions are spilling out of her, making that impossible. At some points, she’s almost smiling while there are tears in her eyes. Wearing the clothes her mother made for her, just adds to the broken mental state she’s in here. She’s desperately trying to keep her composure but she opened the floodgates and there’s no containing the emotions anymore. There’s no going back or doing things differently. This will definitely have lasting effects on V throughout the rest of the season. 

OVERALL - Amazing episode! I really really enjoyed it. Jodie did a phenomenal job as always. The writing for this episode was also really great, shoutout to Suzanne Heathcote. I know some people are saying that the plot didn’t really progress here but I think this episode is really going to drive Villanelle through the last three episode of this season. It’s going to have a huge impact on her and I think we’ll definitely be seeing that sooner rather than later. 

[subtlereferencetomyinterests]

Complexities Unknowable- Chapter 4

Ao3, chapters  1   2   3   5,  MasterPost

Relationships: Deintruality, background Analogince

The plot of this was lowkey destroyed because apparently Patton and Janus are already somft, but that’s fine. I will continue to call Janus ‘Deceit’ throughout this entire fic to maintain consistency, just so you know. Also, this one’s a long boy, so strap in.

Warnings: Descriptions of gore/body horror (Remus stuff, nothing super bad), swearing, all sympathetic sides, lack of sleep, light arguing, food mention.

Word Count: 2,536

“Did he come back this morning? What did he say?”

“He didn’t do anything bad. Well, nothing super bad. I’m kinda getting used to it.”

“That’s worse!” Virgil was perched on the arm of the couch, staring up at Patton with troubled eyes. Beside him Roman and Logan sat together, the latter looking much less invested in the argument (though he was letting Virgil fidget with his fingers so as to avoid picking apart the threads of his hoodie). 

“It’s not so bad. I think he’s just looking for someone to talk to!” Well, it was like that by now. Patton knew that that wasn’t how it started. It had been about two and a half weeks since Remus had first started popping up to meet Patton before breakfast, and he’d grown quite accustomed to it. Deceit often showed up at night, but his schedule was more sporadic. They did their best to upset him, but the emotional side refused to be mean, no matter what they did! 

But then he’d found that, as their interactions continued, they got much less distressing. They were something else entirely. Odd enough that Patton couldn’t keep himself from telling his family any longer.

“Just ignore him; he’ll get bored.” Roman said tiredly.

“True; if you want them to stop bothering you, it’s best to just not give the two any attention,” Logan added, prompting Roman to give a proud little smile and hum. 

Patton shifted, taking a moment to respond. He wasn’t sure he wanted them to stop bothering him.

Remus grinned at Morality for the second day in a row as he walked into the kitchen. Today, his hand was pressed firmly against the hot stove, skin bubbling in plain view. 

“Oh! You’re back!” Patton forced a smile as he watched Remus nod and remove his red, blistering hand from the burner and heal himself instantly. 

“Yup! Happy to see me?”

Patton  inhaled deeply, pressing his hands against his face. Though his eyes were covered, he could hear Remus giggling to himself.

“Can I- Can I help you with something?” 

The Dark Side seemed to mull the question over for a moment, and then placed his hand back down on the active burner and shrugged. After getting bored with the stove trick, he sat up and grabbed a knife from the block and stabbed it down between each of his fingers repetitively. Patton stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. In his own kitchen.

You know what? If Remus wanted to hang around while he made breakfast, then the more the merrier! Morality decided he could ignore the occasional tearing sound of a knife on flesh, putting on the coffee pot for when Logan and Virgil eventually woke up. 

He continued on for a while, making pancakes in relative silence. Until his company got bored. 

“Why do you do this every morning?”

“Make breakfast?” 

Remus nodded.

“I do it because it’s nice to do something nice for the other sides.”

“Yeah, but why?”

“They’re my family,” Patton answered with a smile. The Duke seemed to toss the answer around in his head for a minute.

“I mean, I can see how they’re each other’s family, cuz they’re fucking- what makes them your family, then?”

They’re sides like me, he could’ve said, but caught himself. We care about each other, was another answer that probably wouldn’t be great. So he didn’t say anything, faking distraction.

“If you were me,” Remus continued, voice dipping, “You’d know that family means a whole lot of nothing.”

The statement had that odd quality of recitation. He was quoting someone. The usual energy with which The Duke spoke was diminished, but before Patton could ask anything about it, footsteps rushed down the stairs and Remus was gone in a blink. 

Part of him was happy that they’d grown on him- because it proved that he wasn’t nasty or mean- but a much larger part was very, very guilty. He was so sure that they were that they were the mean ones, but now he couldn’t tell. He’d been wrong before.

Patton loved his ‘family’, he really did, but not the way they did each other. Truth be told, he’d also been looking for someone to talk to. 

“You’re back,” Patton acknowledged, his eyes barely open. Deceit didn’t look even a twinge sleepy, dressed as formally as he ever was and sitting with perfect posture. This was the fourth time.

“Don’t sound too excited, Morality,”

“Why are you here, again?” 

“Oh, I’m wounded. I can’t just stop by to see my favorite side?” 

Deceit had seemingly recovered from whatever had him acting less cruel in their previous interactions, but Patton couldn’t say that he was surprised. He wasn’t an idiot. If this was the game they were playing, then fine. Fine.

He paused the episode of Steven Universe he was rewatching and clicked back to The Good Place. It was the episode they’d left off on a few nights before. 

“What are you doing?” Deceit sounded surprised. Patton shot him a look.

“I’m putting on something we both like. It’s considerate. And don’t worry, I didn’t watch it without you.”

The reptilian beside him scoffed, but he didn’t say anything, so. Point for Patton.

They got through a full episode before Deceit spoke up again, pretending to inspect his nails through his gloves. 

“You’ve got quite the healthy sleep schedule.”

“You’re up too,” was the nicest way Morality could think to phrase, you’re one to talk, jerk.

“I have the self-respect to sleep in late. I absolutely abhor the nighttime, but I’m guessing you’ve got another reason being up so late. Isn’t that right?”

Patton paused the show. 

“You really wanna know?”

“Please, enlighten me.”

The goal here, it seemed, was to upset and confuse. And the best way to trip up deception was by being honest, truly and completely.

“I just need to not think. Just for a little while. It’s so hard not to think about all the not-great things I’ve done,” he’d never told anyone how bad it got at night. Maybe that’s what made it so easy to tell Deceit, to get some of the pressure off his shoulders with someone that wouldn’t look at him so pityingly. It was good to tell someone who wouldn’t care.

It was a while before Deceit replied.

“That was the first true thing you’ve said to me, I think. I suppose I should return the favor-” And Deceit looked at him, completely understanding, “Since you were so surprised to learn we found you unpleasant, Remus and I decided to show you why that was. In a way. But maybe that’s not what either of us need.”

Patton finally glanced up, eyes wide. The fact that it was some malicious plot was unsurprising. The second statement was both surprising and confusing. But Deceit wasn’t meeting his eyes, and it was far too late to try to pry anything more out of him. So they just watched TV. Together.

“Pat?”

Virgil’s voice broke him from his thoughts. Patton made sure that he was smiling before he looked up.

“Is there something you aren’t telling us? You’re kinda radiating anxiety right now, buddy,” Virgil’s face darkened, “Did they do something to you? So you won’t-”

“Or can’t,” Roman added.

“-Or can’t ask for help?” 

Patton appreciated the concern, but he couldn’t help it if the insinuation that they would control him made him wince a disgustedly. How could they really think that Deceit or Remus would do that? (he was pointedly ignoring the part of himself that thought they did things like that less than a month ago.)

That morning, when Remus swung down from the top of the fridge in his kraken-like form, Patton hardly blinked. He yawned, in fact, smiling sleepily. 

“G’morning.” 

Remus picked himself up off the floor and shapeshifted into his usual appearance, pouting. 

“Aww, you’re desensitized.”

To be fair, he’d done this every morning for the past two weeks. Patton was quite used to the company, but he still threw his hands up and gave a very fake scream for Remus’ sake. That turned Creativity’s expression right around to a grin and he bounced his shoulders in a laugh. It was oddly cute.

“Hey, I like this,” Remus announced, bending back the prongs of a fork. Morality smiled to cover up that he had no clue how to respond. He almost thought it was some kind of lure, and he wasn’t losing whatever this game was to them. But, Deceit had implied that whatever plan they had was disbanded. But Deceit was Deceit! But that moment had seemed so sincere, and honestly, he wanted to like this too-

“Your eggs are burning,” said Remus, right against his ear. Patton startled at the sudden proximity, and also at the fact that he was totally botching breakfast. Family breakfast.

“Shucks- Thanks-” he hastily took the pan off the heat, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, but you might not like the answer,” The Duke warned, likely having no idea what Patton was going to ask about but knowing it was applicable regardless.

“Why do you always leave when the others wake up?”

He scrunched up his face, pausing whatever it was he was doing with a spare handful of forks. Morality had noticed that his various disturbing activities had gradually gotten a lot less deliberately upsetting and a lot more like he was just trying to keep his hands busy while chatting. 

“‘Shucks’ is just a combination of shit and fuck,” he said instead of answering. 

“Language!” 

Patton let him change the subject; it wasn’t his business, anyway. Remus cackled- part relief but mostly genuine amusement- and carried on as though nothing had happened. Morality listened to him ramble, and looked over when Creativity wanted to show him some piece of art or his rapidly expanding silverware sculpture. Eventually, when footsteps filled the house and Remus was gone, Patton noticed an aching pain in his face. He quickly realized it hurt from how wide his smile had been.

Oh- maybe ‘desensitized’ wasn’t the right word for how he felt about the Dark Sides.

Morality was going to defend Remus and Deceit. Just like he’d defended Virgil to the others all those years ago, before everything (funny, that, and how the three of them ended up together. Maybe if traits listened to him more, they’d see he ended up right sometimes. And Patton hoped- believed- he was right about this).

“I don’t need help, and they didn’t hurt me! Honestly, they may be a little eccentric, but they aren’t… evil.” 

Three sides gazed incredulously at Patton. He couldn’t blame them, for as soon as he said it he could only hear it as something someone else would be telling him. He remained unwavering regardless.

“Well, of course they aren’t; they are sides of Thomas like the rest of us, and naturally they strive to do what they think is best for him. But, their methods and wants are unrealistic at best and extremist at worst, so it is fair that we’d be concerned.”  

Virgil grumbled low in his throat, looking slightly mollified. 

“I- well- yeah, I just don’t want Patton getting in over his head.”

“What now?”

It was the first night since their last weirdly emotional conversation, and though Remus showed up everyday, Morality had almost thought it was the last he’d seen of Deceit. He was relieved it wasn’t, and his question really wasn’t meant to come out that way.

“You totally don’t just have to ask me to leave. It’s not like I’m no longer here on false pretenses- wait, not no longer- I confused myself,” while he was trying to parse out his own words, Patton let out a slightly surprised laugh. 

“No, it’s alright, I- um, I’m used to you guys being around.” 

The inaccuracy of the word “desensitized” once again flashed in his mind as he saw Deceit tamp down a smile, barely hiding the way his fangs peeked out. 

“Well, I still haven’t seen the series finale of The Good Place, so I might as well stay,” he drawled in feigned indifference. 

“The show just wouldn’t be the same without your running commentary,” Patton playfully nudged the liar’s shoulder.

They watched half of season four in one sitting. 

Patton ran a hand down his face and groaned, earning a concerned look from his best friend. 

“I’ll tell you if I need help, I promise. But I need you to trust me that, right now, I’m okay.”

“I trust you,” Virgil replied without hesitation, “It’s them I don’t trust.”

“Well, why not?” 

Logan and Roman exchanged knowing looks while Anxiety tensed his shoulders. He huffed, eyes downcast.

“I mean… it’s not exactly a secret that I didn’t leave on great terms. I wouldn’t be surprised if they still had it out for, like, all of us, due to association. Especially considering-” he gestured to Roman, who gave a solemn nod. Patton briefly reflected on the terrible fact that nobody in his life could communicate effectively (including himself (wow, maybe some of Deceit’s bitterness was rubbing off on him)). 

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take if it means there’s a chance that we’ll all come out of this for the better!” At this point it was unlikely that there was any risk, but arguing with his family made his head hurt.

“If you think you can get them to be cooperative, then I’m all for it. Our current state isn’t exactly sustainable in the long term, so we��d better resolve the issue sooner rather than later,” Logan said.

“It would be nice to not have to worry about those guys all the time, I guess. If you really think you can get them under control,” Virgil shifted uncomfortably. 

“Yes- but if they do get out of hand, I will take care of them for you, Padre!” Roman flew to his feet with a self-assured smirk, eyes blazing like he could see the scene before him as he summoned his sword. 

“That...  is very sweet. I’ll keep that in mind, Ro,” Morality gently patted his arm, subtly trying to guide the sword out of its path of destruction. 

As the conversation lulled, Patton made his escape, calling out an excuse of making lunch. 

As Patton tidied his work space, his eyes flicked over the counters. He spotted a disheveled black sketchbook that lay forgotten by the stove, its cover swallowed by stickers and doodles which were unmistakably Remus’. 

That morning, The Duke had wandered in and pushed himself up onto the counter, holding out his sketchbook wordlessly, a smile on his face. It was routine by that point, but Patton was still ecstatic every time he got to see the art. While it was horrifying almost all the time, his love of drawing overpowered his disgust and he couldn’t help but shower the pictures with compliments (seeing the way Remus’ usual manic expression softened with appreciation was also a bonus).

After peeking his head around the corner to ensure that the rest of the sides were sufficiently distracted, Patton grabbed the lost leatherbound book and sank out to return it. 

Taglist:

@deceits-left-glove​ @princemesscharming @shrimp-crockpot

[youbloodymadgenius]

The Viking King and the Pancakes (Ivar x reader)

A/N: Modern AU but not exactly Modern!Ivar, you’ll see. 

This is not the second part of Pancakes in Bed again? But if you haven't read it, it would be better to read it first. Here 

Thanks to @inforapound​, without whom I couldn’t do anything 💖 And thanks to @ivaraddict​ for this precious gif 💖

Summary: the reader wakes up and finds out that she is not alone in bed. When she realizes who is lying next to her, the shock is even greater. 

Warnings: None besides my wacky ideas ; shaggy dog story. Ah yes, swearings too. 

Words: 2136

Lazily opening your eyes, you startle when the sound of snoring wakes you completely.

Snoring?? How could this be?? You have been sleeping alone for… for… weeks? Months? So long that you actually aren’t sure… It could even be years…  

Immediately you are wide awake and screaming as you realize that a man is lying next to you. In your bed! Under your sheets! A wave of panic hits you. What did you do last night? Had you been drinking? Eating mushrooms?

Where did he come from? How did he get there? And more importantly, who is he?? And… did you have…? Oh, no, no, no, no! Looking under the sheets, you see that you are still wearing your pajamas. Phew!!

Releasing a loud sigh of relief, you hear the stranger growl as he shifts in the bed. Looking at him carefully, you are frightened – there's a man you don't know anything about in your bed! – and also fascinated – from what you can see, his muscles are… impressive…

It's highly inappropriate, but you are drooling.

Move a little more so I can see your face, you urge him silently.

It worked! Rolling onto his side, the man slowly faces you and…

FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!

"By the gods, who are you?"

From his thick accent you know he's not fluent in English. But you still understand. Which is good, as your knowledge of Old Norse is limited to "Du kan ikke drepe meg!" Although, thinking about it, telling him he can't kill you might not be totally stupid.

"I..I.." You pathetically babble. Fuck. Fuck! You must be dreaming, right? You pinch your arm, bite the inside of your cheek and end up slapping yourself in front of a dumbfounded Iv… No! It can't be him! It can? Noooo! Fuck, even after five slaps, he's still there.

"I'm Y/N," you finally say and are rewarded with a puzzled look.

"Strange name."

A man of few words, no doubt about it. Rolling your eyes, you sigh. Maybe you like it better when he doesn't say anything.

"And you?" Your question is somehow rhetorical as you already know who he is. But you need to hear it, clearly, from him.

"Ivar the Boneless, son of Ragnar Lothbrok and Aslaug Sigurdsdottir, king of Kattegat and leader of the great heathen army."

It sounds like he's reciting his service record.

Wow, wow, wow! The guy is slightly showing off, isn't he? You'd like to put him down and hesitate to remind him that unless you're mistaken, Bjorn overthrew him and he's not really king anymore. But it doesn't seem particularly wise, so you choose to keep quiet.

Not him.

"Are you my new slave? A gift from Ubbe, my silly brother, as a sign of his repentance and total allegiance?"

A slave??? You are in my fucking house, man!! And in my bed!!!

Six months later

You hurry up, eager to get home, looking forward to finding your man, Ivar the Boneless; the ruthless king. The bloodthirsty, fierce, cruel Viking. Your lover. Your Ivar.

Pushing back the door with your foot, you hastily lock it behind.

"Ivar?"

Not getting an answer, you put down your bag and take off your shoes before walking through the apartment. Putting your phone on the kitchen table, you inhale deeply, enjoying the delicious smell of a lamb stew that has certainly been simmering for hours.

Eventually, you find your great warrior asleep on the couch, the old wheelchair you unearthed in a second-hand shop right next to him. Smiling, you take your time, admiring his features. His facial structure, so perfect. He's astonishing, breathtaking. Painfully handsome.

He belongs perfectly in your living room and simultaneously seems completely out of place. You can't help but smile seeing the contrast of his hairstyle – "Never without my braids, woman!" – and his outfit, sweatpants and white T-shirt.

"Hi, my love!" Blinking, he almost purrs as you kiss his forehead.

Using his powerful arms to draw you close, he flashes you a broad grin as you carefully straddle him. With modern drugs working wonders, you taught him to rate his pain on a scale of one to ten and he's rarely over two. Yet, you haven't found a way to prevent him from breaking a bone at the drop of a hat.

"My queen!"

Your laughter fills the room. No matter how much you tell him you are not the queen of anything, he seems hell-bent on it so you let him, amused and surely flattered to be loved by a real king.

"Dinner is almost ready." You shiver as he kisses your temple, your cheek and eventually your neck. "And then…,” his voice is suddenly hoarse, "… you and I will make love."

Six months earlier

"Tell me again??"

The frightening Viking glares at you, threateningly, driving your heart rate crazy. Fortunately, you confirmed he came unarmed in your bed and then you took care, before inviting him to sit at the kitchen table, to lock up all the knives and sharp or pointed tools.

"I say…,” ashamed, you know you're blushing, "… that I have called the gods, yours as well as the Christian god."

"And for what purpose?" His piercing blue eyes are scanning you, his features harsh.

"I….” Your voice is shaky. "I have already told you."

Before you realize what's going on, his hand is on your throat, and he's squeezing. The little bastard!

"I said," he roars, "For. What. Purpose?"

Freaking out, it's hard for you to breathe and you can hardly speak, your face red, your eyes bulging and begging him for air.

His eyes demanding an answer, he barely releases his grip. You're sure he won't hesitate to strangle you if you don't say anything.

"I have… I begged the gods because I wanted… I wanted you in… my bed… Well, not you…" Suddenly your words are rushing out. "I wanted the other Ivar, the Ivar of the TV show, this TV show that you don't know but in which you play the lead role. And yes, I'm aware that you don't know what a TV show is, I'll explain later, but that's it, it's you I wanted, that's why I called the gods and I don't know why but apparently it seems they heard me."

Ivar's hand doesn't move but he doesn't squeeze anymore, allowing you to breathe freely. You can see a slight change in his eyes, and his face softens.

"You… You wanted me in your bed? …..Why?"

Suddenly, there's no longer a frightening warrior in front of you but the terrified little boy from the eleventh episode of season four. His huge, wide eyes screaming all his insecurities. You are dying to tell him that Margrethe is nothing more than a stupid girl who did everything wrong. After all, you'd only be telling the truth!

But because he's unpredictable and because you don't know him well, you choose to say something more simple. "Because you are extremely attractive.”

Pleased by your words, he puffs his chest, flashing you a cocky grin. "And what did you want to do in bed with me?"

His rapid mood swings are fascinating, even more impressive in real life than on TV. Weighing the pros and cons, you eventually decide to be honest. "I wanted to have sex with you.”

Six months later

"I'll take care of everything, just go chill."

Nodding gratefully, you watch Ivar, who's setting the table while stirring the stew and keeping an eye on the cooking pasta. Smiling, you can't help but assess the progress made.  

In six months, Ivar had become a perfect househusband.

Neither you nor he were able to explain by what miracle, sorry, by what magic, the word miracle made your proud pagan throw up, had him get there. But you didn't complain.

Neither did he – he who confessed that the last thing he remembered was fleeing Kattegat, alone, abandoned by all, hiding in the back of a stinking cattle cart.

Of course, you had to teach him everything and at first, it hadn't been easy. But he quickly got his bearings, at least in your apartment. Outside was harder. He was afraid of everything. Too much noise, too many colors, too many stimuli all the time.

That's why he spent most of his time inside. Running errands was terribly worrisome for him. Eating out too. At most, you forced him to go out sometimes late at night to get fresh air, and three weeks ago you managed to take him to the mountains. He loved it.

On a daily basis, you two didn't get out much, but you didn't mind. In your home, your cocoon, you were able to forget more and more that Ivar was more than a thousand years old. Forget that he was a character from history books as well as one of your favorite TV show. And the fucking fictive guy you've been fantasizing about for months!

He had adapted quickly enough to modern technologies, had discovered running water with delight and had been fascinated, almost mesmerized, by the Internet. It was so he could use it, he asked you to teach him how to read.

Learning in record time, you realized that the show had some truth: Ivar was certainly a brilliant and intelligent person.

Since he could read, he'd devoured every book he could find. He read all your books, even burning one that described the point of view of a Saxon monk during the Lindisfarne raid. The best thing about this interest was that he was always looking for new recipes on the web. "Helga would have been crazy with such a tool!", he told you after explaining that it was Floki's wife who had secretly taught him how to cook.

"Take your seat, my queen.”

Wheeling towards you, Ivar hands you a glass of wine. "For you." You thank him and then you both raise your glasses before clinking them. "Enjoy your meal!"

Bringing your fork to your mouth – Ivar, your stubborn Viking, still eats everything with a spoon – your eyes shoot wide as you let the flavors spread through your mouth. Once again, his meal is excellent, a true feast for the palate.

"Ivar!" Talking with a full mouth, you're slightly ashamed but know he won't hold it against you. "It's simply a pure wonder! Exquisite and perfect!"

Smiling proudly, your Viking king is sincerely happy. He doesn't need much. What he told to that bitch Freydis was the truth: all he wanted was to be loved. And in truth, he doesn't care about being king. For the first time in his life, he can be himself. With you. And that's enough for him.

"I'm glad you like it." Waving his spoon in front of you, he furrows his brows. "Are you working tomorrow?"

You can't hide the small smile curling the corner of your mouth up.  Ivar still has trouble with some concepts. "No, my love, tomorrow is Sunday. I never work on Sundays." Seeing that his face lights up, you know he has an idea in mind. "Why?"

"Nothing… I was just thinking… I could try to prepare… pancakes. And we could eat them in bed."

You are sure you've never mentioned pancakes and wonder when he heard about them. But whatever, you're in. "That's a great idea! I'm sure you'll do well."

Now, Ivar's biting his lower lip suggestively and you wonder what he’s up to.

Putting his spoon on the edge of his plate, he wheels towards you. "I'll prepare toast, eggs, and bacon too."

You can't help but feel aroused by his hoarse voice, even if it's ridiculous. Who would have thought that breakfast could be a turn on?

Wait. Wait. Fucking wait. Pancakes. Toast. Eggs. Bacon. Seriously???

"Why?!" You startle, slightly distressed. "I mean, what are you talking about? Why are you talking about that? Why do… Why do you want to eat that tomorrow? I mean, exactly that?" You know you're pathetic, but Ivar only smiles at you lovingly.

"Because I want to.” Stroking your breast, he leans forward and his mouth meet yours, giving you shivers. "And once I've eaten all this…,” backing up just enough to look you in the eye, his hand brushes your crotch, making you shutter, "… I'll enjoy my dessert."

Standing, you take a few steps back, panic setting in while you try to put the puzzle together. Your heartbeat becomes frantic when you eventually understand what it means. What he means.

"Ivar… You…?" Blushing, a lump forms in your throat, you can’t speak anymore.

Nodding at you, again and again, a broad smile on his face and his gaze almost naughty, he’s obviously having fun. Fucking pompous asshole!

"Yes, my queen. I found your Tumblr blog. And I read your fanfictions."

OH!! FUUUUUUUUUCK!!!

🛡⚔️🛡

@waiting4inspiration​ @saldelys​ @lisinfleur​ @honestsycrets​ @gearhead66​

[elmidol]

Happy Birthday, Micah

[Phillip Altman x Micah (or Reader, but the name is used)]

Happy birthday, @strongtwiheart

tw: None. Just some fluff and occasional innuendo.

word count: 1.8k

There were some mornings that it struck you just how natural it was to wake up beside him, to join him in the kitchen for breakfast or coffee. It was strange to think that there had been a period wherein he had been absent from your life. Phillip Altman had spent that time continuing to live as a playboy, behavior that had ended after the death of his father and he had had to live with the consequences of his choices. That had helped him to become who he was now, had led him to you. What you thought of life before him was in terms of growth; it was faded, much like your early childhood. Which was funny, in a way, given that such thoughts led you towards the fact that recently Phillip had insisted the two of you purchase a character-themed waffle press. It had been admittedly cheaper than others due to it being on clearance, and seeing him happy always brought a smile to your face.

On this particular morning, you did not wake up next to him, however you could smell the waffles baking and knew he was waiting for you in the kitchen. You stretched your arms above your head, freshened yourself a bit, and then headed out of the bedroom to join him. Along with the waffles, you smelled the coffee. Your favorite brew and in a mug you were rather fond of. Phillip had his back to you. He stood at the ledge on which the waffle press was stationed. Beside it was a measuring bowl filled with batter, on the opposite side a plate with fresh waffles. He had a half eaten one in his hand. Your smile broadened.

“Good morning,” you said while stifling a yawn. Phillip twisted around, returning the greeting as he gestured with his head toward the cup of coffee that was waiting for you. “You’re up early.”

“Did it get cold in there without me?” The way his voice took on a new pitch whenever he teased you made your heart flutter. Warmth spread through your body. You felt so comfortable with it, as though you had been wrapped up in a blanket of affection--because, you knew, you had been. The way he looked at you was obvious. There was attraction, hints of lust, but something else. He valued and respected you. He had told you how his sister, Wendy, had raised him. They were close, and you had bonded with her. It was Wendy who had put into words for you how you felt with Phillip when she had stated how he looked at you from her point of view: he looked at you as though you completed him, because you did.

You lifted up the coffee, the surface not too hot as it warmed your hands, and leaned against the opposite ledge. “Yes.” You did feel complete now that you were again in the same room that he was. “You’re making a lot of waffles.”

“I worked up an appetite,” he replied, giving you a smirk this time. You ran your tongue along your lips, your eyebrows momentarily rising. You had not expected anything less. Phillip pushed aside the container of batter, opened up the press, and withdrew the waffles that had finished cooking. He reached over to unplug the appliance. As he did so, you moved into a chair that was set up at the small table in your kitchen. Phillip picked up two forks from the drawer, grabbed up the plate of waffles, and brought all of this along with his own coffee mug to the table. You marveled at the size of his hands, at how much he could carry in a single trip. Those same hands that delivered you pleasure, that held you, that often enveloped yours.

He slipped into the chair across from yours in unison with setting the plate down in the center of the round table. The forks slipped in a controlled fall from his hand onto the surface beside the dish. You reached forward to grab one of them. Phillip, meanwhile, grunted, set down his cup, and rose long enough to procure any toppings either of you might want for the waffles. Then he was seated on the other side of the table from you again. He was dressed in sweatpants and a comfortable t shirt . Nothing that indicated he had plans to go out, although that did not mean he wouldn’t dress later. His facial hair was well kempt, trimmed to his preferred length. You enjoyed watching him, taking in all these details as Phillip reached for one of the waffles.

Those brown eyes, so deep, gorgeous, warm, lifted to meet yours. “Micah.” You blinked slowly, almost owlishly, at him. Released a soft hmm of acknowledgment. “You awake?”

“Yeah. I’m just watching you.” He snorted, his head bobbing in repeated nods, and he chuckled out a yeah, I caught that. Relaxed, light, nothing judgmental. He was simply making conversation with you.

You let out a startled yelp as your chair shifted towards the right. Phillip chuckled, eyeing the way your hands had gripped the table. Shaking your head, you stood to finish what he had started doing with his feet; you moved the chair closer to his so that you were side by side rather than across from each other. You made the suggestion that the pair of you could head over to the couch, but Phillip only leaned to the side, setting his cheek on top of your head and then straightening up. You withdrew your hands from the coffee mug that you had reached for in favor of grabbing his face and bringing him down for a kiss. His lips were smooth against yours in those three quick pecks.

“Look at us. All cute and domestic.” It was hard to not groan at this joke, what with how his chest puffed up a bit. He was half-serious with what he had said.

“Well,” you began, deciding to join the mirth, “that is one of the reasons I love you.”

Phillip placed a hand on your head, his thumb skimming behind your right ear. “I love everything about you. Your cute scar here.” His thumb stroked it in reverse. The caress coupled with his words made your heart stutter in your chest before it set to racing. “It’s one of the reasons I love you.”

“O-oh?” He had told you this before, however it had been a while. And it caught you by surprise whenever he would bring it up. So specific, so endearing. He was perfect. Phillip pressed his mouth against yours. This kiss was more than a simple peck. He kissed you deeply, your mouths joining together in a familiar dance. His thumb caressed back and forth along the scar. He murmured again how much he adored it. “I love your hands,” you whispered back. “And your eyes.” His lips ghosted over yours. “Your mouth.” Now they kissed you for--you did not know what number you were at. You could kiss him for all eternity and never grow tired of it.

As the kisses slowed, you rested your forehead against his. “Do you love the coffee I made you?” he asked. His sense of humor, his impeccable timing, how he knew just what to say. You loved that.

“Yes, I love the coffee you made for me.” Phillip slipped his arm around your shoulders, rubbing you gently so that he did not jostle you as you grabbed hold of the mug. You sipped the warm liquid, felt its heat as you swallowed. It complemented how he made you feel on an emotional level.

Neither of you picked up the forks that were beside the plate of waffles. Phillip appeared to have temporarily lost interest in the food in favor of focusing on you and the coffees that you were each drinking. It was perfect for the weather outside. It was chilly. The thermostat indoors would read at a higher temperature, the heater audibly thrumming as it kept away the cold. The coffee worked to ward away any lingering chill that might have existed. You cuddled more tightly against Phillip. You looked at the waffles merely to consider the faces of the characters that were visible from where you seated.

The characters were another example of why it was difficult to remember a time before Phillip. Both of you could recall watching the show. Your conversations would have fooled third parties into thinking you had been together while watching the episodes. The memories blended together well enough that sometimes the two of you forgot that you hadn’t been with each other. Such occurrences would result in laughter when realization struck. You both shared favorite and least favorite characters for the show as well. Phillip liked to eat the least favorite character first. That way if there were leftovers then it wasn’t them taking up space in the fridge or freezer. That was a quirk of his that you found endearing.

“Hmm.”

“What?” he asked before sipping on his coffee a bit noisily. You nudged him so that he quieted. “What?”

You pointed with your chin at the pile of waffles. Your hands were on the warm mug and you did not want to remove them just then. “I was thinking that we could always use the other three slots and not the fourth. Then we won’t have to worry about there being any left.” Here you looked over at the ledge. “Especially with how much batter you made.”

“That’s another thing I love about you. So smart. Big brained.” You scrunched up your nose at his words, albeit not in disagreement. Phillip placed his cup on the table and you set yours down beside his. Wrapping your arms around him--or as much as you could given his size and your angle--you closed your eyes and inhaled his scent. “Stealing my shirts.”

“They’re comfortable,” you countered. They fit just right. This loose t shirt was the same style as the one he wore, however it was a different color. “You love that I wear them.”

“I do,” he conceded. “I like taking them off of you too.” Despite his words, he did not make a move to do so. You appreciated what he was implying and that he did not bare you to the cold. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Well, first, I’m going to help you finish making the waffles,” you said. A pause then you corrected yourself. “First, I’m going to drink my coffee. Making more waffles is somewhere down the line.” He offered to put a lid on the batter so that the two of you could instead go over to the couch and cuddle after eating. You were plenty willing to go along with that plan. All that mattered was that the two of you were together. So long as there was that, it would be a perfect day. “Now you’re the one who’s big brained.” His laugh was deep, rich, and everything you wanted in that moment.

[katrandomwrites]

Wierdly Human

Alternate title was "Jon the Archivist is Kinda Hot"

Little in between snippets from the assistants and their impressions of Jonathan Sims.

I declare this a fluff and humor only zone! Episode 160 can kiss my butt.

You can also find this on AO3 under the same title.

I got the inspiration for this from a tumblr post about Jon being a clean boy despite crawling through hell and back but I think the writer deleted it because I spent forever looking for it and couldn't find it :n: Also 2 Drink Jon is a reference to 2 other fics I've read so his wild ass is not mine.

Supplemental Headcanons at the end.

--

Pre-Show

There was somebody new at the Institute. 

He was short and dark with black hair neatly trimmed and styled. A pair of browline glasses perched in front of wide brown eyes that seemed to absorb everything around him.

“Hey, uh, Tim,” Martin whispered as he leaned over to where his coworker was digging through a drawer, “Who’s that?”

“Hm?” Tim’s eyes widened as he looked up, “Oh shit, he’s cute.”

“Not helpful, Tim.”

“Um, I think he might be Daniel’s replacement. I think his name is Joe or something,” Tim swallowed, “I wonder what modeling agency Bouchard raided for him.”

Martin elbowed him in the ribs hard, his face going as red as his hair, “Shut up!”

“But look at him, Martin! He has to have a skincare routine an hour long and don’t tell me you didn’t notice that those trousers are bloody tailored. I see you looking at his arse!”

“SHUT UP!”

”What are you two fighting about now?”

Both researchers jumped away from each other as Sasha popped up behind them.

“Hot new guy,” Tim said, earning another jab and a hiss.

Sasha looked at Martin and grinned, “Short, scrawny, Persian, and angry?”

“He’s Persian?” Martin stuttered before slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Yeah, I got to talk to him during his follow up interview. Smart guy but kind of grumpy and super awkward. We got talking about foriegn food and he offered to give me his grandma’s recipe for chelow kababs,” Sasha said.

“What’s his name.” Tim asked, looking back at where the new guy was glaring at a row of filing cabinets with several drawers ajar.

“Jonathan Sims.”

--

Pre Episode 44

Basira watched as Sims limped away with the tape clutched to his chest like a lifeline before sighing and heading out to the car where Daisy was waiting.

“Well?” Daisy asked, “How’s our favorite murderer?”

Basira swatted her feet off the dash, “He looks like he hasn’t slept in 3 weeks and recently got hit by a car.”

“I wasn’t asking about his nasty, worm-eaten face, Basira,” Daisy said, “Does he know we’re watching him?”

“I don’t think so -put your seatbelt on- it seems like he’s more invested in what’s on those tapes for now. I get the feeling he’s more worried about watching the people he works with than us.”

“What a sad little librarian. I’m looking forward to how he managed to kill Robinsen without getting his ass whipped.”

“She was old.”

“Yeah, but Sims looks like he’d get knocked out by a light breeze even before he got munched on by some nasty fucking bugs. Did you see the surveillance from Robinsen’s initial investigation? I went back through to track Sims and watched him struggle move a box that was in front of a filing cabinet for a solid twenty minutes; the big ginger guy had to move it for him.”

“That’s-” Basira snorted, “That’s pathetic.”

Daisy grinned, “He has to be one manipulative bastard to get anything done.”

“Is that your theory?”

“I mean look at you.”

“What about me?”

“He gives you the puppy eyes once and now you’re smuggling him tapes from the evidence locker? I have never known the great Basira Hussain to ever cave to a suspect’s wishes in my life- and don’t say it’s to keep a closer eye on him. We have less illegal tactics for that.”

Basira opened her mouth to argue but found that Daisy had a point. She really only gave into suspects if the circumstances were dire. This was technically classed as a low priority case.

What was going on here? 

--

Post Episode 76

Melanie flopped dramatically onto Georgie's couch and let out a long winded sigh.

"Oh?" Georgie asked from the kitchen door.

Melanie sat up slightly to let her sit down before plopping her head down on Georgie's thigh, "I had to go talk to Sims at the Institute again."

"How's Jon?"

"A fucking bastard is what he is."

"Well I knew that," Georgie laughed, gently beginning to brush through Melanie's hair with her fingers.

"I don't know, he's was wierdly defensive and I think he was trying to gaslight me about one of his new assistants."

Georgie paused her brushing, "I haven't seen Jon in a while but that seems… out of character for him. He's a grump, sure, but I've never known him to be a bully -on purpose that is."

"Yeah, well…"

The pair lapsed into a tense silence.

"Would it make you feel better if I show you a picture of Jon in university that he is very embarrassed about," Georgie ventured after a few minutes, "He's still mad I have it.~"

Melanie twisted her head back and grinned, instantly breaking the tension and sitting up to look at the phone screen presented to her.

On it was a picture of Jon passed out, mouth wide open and drooling, on the ugliest couch she'd ever seen.

"He still owns that couch by the way," Georgie said. Melanie waved a hand in her face to silence her as she took in the details.

Jon was in a pink crop top that Melanie was sure she'd seen in Georgie's closet, union jack boxers, gladiator sandals, and The Admiral was planted square on his chest, though he was about half the size of the fluffball that roamed the flat now. Surrounding them where piles of papers and books on the paranormal.

Melanie began to cackle.

"Our friend group used to call him '2 Drink Jon' and this was after he'd done four shots in the kitchen and decided to lecture us on how ghosts are bullshit and he could beat one in a fist fight," Georgie elaborated, "I'm still not sure when he ended up in that outfit but honestly, if we had recorded his rant he probably could have used it for his Masters thesis."

Melanie wheezed into her shoulder as tears began to stream down her face.

"2 Drink Jon was actually a lot more charismatic than sober Jon. This one time he almost had us convinced that he could talk to plants after two gin and tonics, granted we were also drunk but-,"

"Stop, please," Melanie wheezed, "I'm dying."

"Gosh, one of these days I'll have to tell you about tequila and the alien conspiracy. Randall could almost recite the whole speech from memory."

Melanie fell off the couch.

--

Post Episode 109

Julia and Trevor exchanged a look as the Archivist powered through the spiciest Thai food they could find without even breaking a sweat. 

It was supposed to be a joke, spiking Jon's food, the cashier had even given them a panicked look at the restaurant and Trevor's eyes had been watering the whole way back to the safe house. They'd even waited by the door in case Jon tried to make a break for the case of water bottles in the car but he just unwrapped the plastic fork and dug in without even asking for a drink.

Julia picked at her own food but couldn't quite manage to eat it and glanced back at Jon, "Are you sure you don't need a water or anything?"

Jon looked up for a moment, his eyes were more alive than they had been all day and practically sparkled in the shitty fluorescent light. He shook his head and instead reached for another packet of chili sauce to add to his food.

"What the hell is he," Trevor whispered to Julia in horror.

"I don't know but he's definitely not normal."

--

During Episode 132

Daisy had misjudged Jon. She'd grossly misjudged him.

She flexed her fingers around his, ignoring the way the sand dug into her skin, and gently pulled him closer. The man she'd called prey gave her a soft smile and compiled, pressing against her side like she'd never held a knife to his throat, like she hadn't just admitted to planning his murder before she was trapped here.

Daisy turned her head awkwardly and dug her face into his shoulder savoring the human contact, her tears soaking into his shirt.

The Hunt in her blood tried to sing, tried to fight the Buried, "Safe, Mine, Pack, Protect", it echoed faintly.

Jon said something and began to move, pulling Daisy forward along with him.

"Safe, Mine, Pack, Protect"

Hours past as they shimmied through the coffin, the pain of being scraped and crushed was overpowered by the sheer ecstasy of moving more than an inch every few days.

"Safe, Mine, Pack, Protect"

There was a door, Jon tucked himself under her arm and pulled her up the stairs to the blinding lights of the institute. She ducked her head down to his shoulder again and grimaced as her joints popped and groaned.

"Jon, you stupid idiot! What did you think-"

Daisy looked up to the person she thought she’d never see again and smiled.

"Hi."

--

Post Episode 132

Martin had horrible timing really. He just needed to pee, was that really too much to ask?

Of course it was. The universe hated him.

So instead of slipping into the private bathroom upstairs which was magically broken, he had to go down a level and walk in on Jon shaking dirt out of his clothes.

Martin was going to die here but at least he'd die happy.

Jon didn't even seem to register that someone else had joined him (thank the Lonely) so Martin took a second to sneak a guilty look before darting back out and hiding for 40 years.

Jon was painfully thin. Martin got the idea that he could count every vertebrae and rib if he was allowed and even at a glance he could spot the sunken area where at least one rib was now missing.

Worm scars and burns were peppered up his back along with a few moles and freckles. Little red marks circled his chest in a way that Martin immediately recognized as being from the black fabric crumpled at Jon's feet.

And to top it all off, much to Martin's delight, were a set of three black gears tattooed down Jon's right shoulder blade. Sasha had mentioned once that she had gone out for drinks with Jon when he first started and they'd managed to get on the topic of tattoos. Tim had spent months trying to get Jon to show it to him before 'giving up'.

Martin stepped out and stood in the hall for a moment, red faced and giddy, before stumbling off in search of another bathroom.

--

Somewhere between Episode 132-154

"Hey, guys?" Melanie called.

Daisy and Basira glanced up to see Melanie holding a giant plate of the best smelling food they'd seen in weeks. Steam wafted up into her very confused face.

"Did either of you make this? I went to ask Martin and I can't find him."

"I didn't make it," Basira said, "Daisy?"

"I once made spaghetti and lit it on fire.

Basira grimaced and walked up to Melanie, "Kebabs, Tahdig rice, flat bread, and jam cookies. Those are Iranian dishes, or Middle Eastern at least.”

Daisy looked at Basira, "How do you know that?"

"Took a foreign cuisine course focused on middle eastern food a few years ago," Basira said as she made her way to the kitchen area with the group in tow.

Sitting on the table were three more huge plates of food and two empty plates sitting in the sink. Martin was standing next to the table with pure confusion on his face.

"Did you make this?"

Martin jumped and looked at the group, "Uh, no? I really only do pastas… this is a little outside my skill set. I think-"

"It could be a trap," Daisy interrupted, "Maybe it's laced with something?"

"No, I'm pretty sure-"

"Could be, but who would go to this effort, the Web?" Basira said.

"Guys, it was probably-"

"It was the Archivist!" Helen exclaimed from behind them, somehow having opened her door without making a sound and scaring the shit out of them, "He is an excellent cook."

"Bullshit," Melanie wheezed, setting her plate down before she dropped it.

"No, she right," Martin sighed, "Jon actually cooked something similar a few years ago for a company thing. He gave this whole speech about how grandparents immigrated here from Iran, well Persia at the time, and his grandma made him learn to cook what she called 'real food'."

"You mean to tell me that Jonathan Sims, the skinniest guy I have ever met, can cook like this," Basira said in disbelief before cautiously sitting down at the table with the rest following suit.

"He called it his grandmother's curse," Helen provided cheerfully, "He said that no matter what he does,  he always makes far more than he needs and never has people around to give it to. So he just never cooks."

"You talked to him?" Melanie asked. Daisy began to pick at a plate and made a sound of confusion and delight at the taste.

"Oh yes, he even let me help by getting things off high shelves!"

"This is amazing," Daisy said in disbelief before grabbing a fork and beginning to eat in earnest.

"It is! Jon and I had a lovely chat and I'm not much for 'real' food these days but he really convinced me!" Helen declared, spinning back around to re enter her door, "And I must say it was delightful."

"Huh," Basira shrugged and began to eat.

Not bad.

--

Post Episode 159

For the second time since he woke up, Martin pinched himself. He had to be dreaming, the smaller body smooshed up against his chest and the boney limbs clinging to him had to be a figment of his imagination.

Jon huffed in his sleep and burrowed deeper into Martin before settling again. A few stray rays of the morning sun slipped through the blinds highlighting Jon’s gray hairs and the raised edges of scars that trailed along his skin.

Gently, Martin carded his hand through the wild mess of hair, marveling at how soft it was despite everything. Jon sighed, leaning into the touch without stirring.

He could stay like this forever, with Jon safe in his arms and the dangers of the world outside, away from his happiness.

"Wha' time?" Jon mumbled, stretching before re-draping himself over Martin. He looked up and the light caught his eyes in a way that Martin could see all the blue heterochromatic spots in Jon's left eye through dark, heavy lashes. 

"Doesn't matter," Martin whispered as he pulled him closer, "We have all the time in the world."

--

Supplemental Headcanons: - Jon is a 3rd gen Persian/Iranian immigrant. His grandparents on his dad's side moved to England post WWII. (Persia became Iran in 1979) They took the last name Sims during immigration. - His mother was full blooded English. - He can out cook 87% of the local grandma's when he really gets into it - He built an unnaturally high tolerance to salt and spice as a kid to keep people from taking his lunch or trying to mess with his food and now thoroughly enjoys spicy foods. - Jon does care a lot but his grandma never taught him to show it in any other way but tolerance and mute acceptance. It's hard to know where you stand with Jon because of this. - Was a runner while in school. - Was forced to take violin lessons as a kid and Georgie taught him some piano in University. - Jon is and always has been feral little man though he is more bark than bite (unless he's under the influence of something). He learned it from his grandma. - He's one of those drunks that often wanders/ runs away from his drinking group. He has strong drunk college girl tendencies. - He changed his middle name to Ulysses when he got his first name legally changed because he’s a nerd. - Jon has had the same pen pal since he was 10. They are one of the few points of normalcy he has left. - Jon and Daisy are trans mlm and wlw solidarity. Fight me.

Fun Fact: Sims means "the Listener" which seems almost too on the nose.

[ma-lemons]

home (march 29- modern au)

@itallartandgames had an idea: Oscar being the cook of the two and that he combs his fingers through Ruby’s hair when she falls asleep. This idea was given to me a while ago, but I decided it would be nice for the first day. they also gave me the idea for “Freckles” as a nickname. it’s cute.

—————————————————————

“I’m baaaaaaaack!” her voice echoed in the house.

Oscar’s heart raced when he heard the cheery voice of his beloved through the walls. She was finally back.

He slipped his feet into his fuzzy slippers and left the kitchen to see if she needed help with her bags.

Halfway to the living room, Ruby attacked him in a hug.

“Guh,” Oscar sputtered, stumbling a little. His fiancée’s arms were flung around his torso, squeezing him as hard as she could. In the midst of her bear hug, Oscar got a whiff of the maple-scent that was always present at Ruby’s father’s house.

“I missed you,” she murmured, leaning into his hair. Once Oscar recovered from his shock, he hugged her back. “Missed you too, Rubes.”

Oscar’s long-ish locks tickled her chin and she giggled as they seperated. Oscar took note of her luggage.

“You want me to take that for you? I was going to start dinner, but I got so caught up watching something that time slipped past me,” he apologized.

“Don’t worry, Oscar,” Ruby yawned, kicking her boots off. “I can wait. I kinda want to watch that cop show anyway.” She twisted herself back to him and grasped his wrist lightly. “I missed you,” she repeated, brushing a kiss onto his cheek.

“I missed you more,” he murmured back. He missed her soft touch, her warm hands, the warmest part of her. Ruby shooed him away, and he retreated into the kitchen, which left her alone to her luggage.

She had visited her sister and her father. Yang was visiting home with her wife Blake, and their young daughter Ianthe. Ruby’s heart always swelled holding her chubby niece’s hand. Yang and Blake were good moms, as Ruby had predicted they would be.

She pulled her two bags down the hall, to the room she shared with Oscar. Placing them against the wall, she thought of children. Her dad had jokingly asked her when she and Oscar would have kids, and Ruby had laughed it off. They hadn’t talked about it yet, so she would cross that bridge when they got there. For now, she and Oscar were content with just being around Ianthe and Nora and Ren’s kids.

Stretching comfortably before the mirror, she shucked off her sweater, leaving her in a camisole. She tied it around her waist and left the room. As much as she loved her dad’s place, she was beyond relieved to be back home with Oscar. She had missed him and his reassuring words. She faced the beige-ish walls of their room. This was home. The one they had created together.

In the end, she had chosen Oscar. She questioned herself, who she liked, who she didn’t like, whether she liked anyone at all—and eventually decided it was time for her to make up her mind. And even though it took her ages to see it, Oscar had been waiting for her from the very beginning.

Smiling to herself, she left their room and headed to the living room. Flopping on the couch, she flipped through channels until she found the cop show Yang had gotten her hooked on.

As the bright colors flashed across the screen and the funky music played, Ruby began to get whiffs of whatever her fiancé was making her. It was bound to be delicious. He was an amazing cook—the better of the two—and Ruby would eat anything he made anyway.

She nestled herself into the couch and yawned. The trip back was exhausting, but she didn’t want to fall asleep before actually getting to spend time with Oscar.

Spices hit her nose and her mouth practically watered.

“Whatever you’re making smells good, Freckles,” Ruby called over the blaring noises of the television. She had a knowing smile growing on her face.

“Please stop calling me Freckles, love. And thank you,” he replied.

Ruby’s proud expression quickly changed. She blushed, squeezing the pillow in her arms. She’d never admit it, but Oscar calling her love was one of her favorite things in the world. It made her feel so... special. Her heart went pitter-patter but she tried her hardest to focus on the screen, where the cop was making a bad pun.

Oscar sprinkled pepper across the salmon filets. Ruby actually wasn’t a big fan of fish, as she didn’t eat it a lot as a kid, but she liked salmon. Especially with Oscar’s Spanish rice. He decided to keep it simple this time.

He heard his love’s padded footsteps enter the living room and smiled to himself when she turned on the police comedy. Most of the jokes went over his head, but he thought it was a good show overall. Ruby was more of a comedy person, Oscar loved dramas. One genre they could agree on, however, was rom-coms. All they needed was a box of tissues and blankets, and their night would be complete.

“Whatever you’re making smells good, Freckles,” she called to him.

Oscar knew better. There’s no way Ruby wouldn’t recognize the distinct smell of one of her favorite meals. But that nickname. It always got to him. He wasn’t a fan, admittedly, but he grew more tolerant over the years, finally putting up with the goddamn name Ruby had called him, even before they started to date.

“Please stop calling me Freckles, love. And thank you,” he sighed, flipping the salmon over.

At least she was home. The place they shared together was quiet without her. He’d have to spend hours staring at peeling wallpaper or their pictures in the hallway.

He sighed dreamily. Plating the salmon, he whispered a thank you to the skies for Ruby, the girl he had liked for so long, being at his side.

Oscar dropped two forks onto the seperate plates and shuffled over to the next room over.

“Dinner’s ready,” he smiled warmly, placing the plates on the coffee table. “You want water? Or iced tea?”

“Water, please. Oscar—this looks so good, thank you,” Ruby murmured, her wide eyes fixed on the plates.

He soon returned with two glasses of ice water and he slumped down into the couch next to her.

“Thank you for the food.”

“Anything for you, love,” he smiled back at her.

Gah! Stop, heart! Control yourself! Ruby willed herself not to blush or say something stupid.

“What episode is this?” he asked, nodding towards the TV.

“The vacation special.”

“Ah.”

The two ate their food quietly, save for the moments where Ruby would laugh or they’d idly chatter.

“This was soooo good,” Ruby murmured, scooting closed to him. Oscar grinned, ruffling her hair. Ruby’s skin brushed up against his, sending shivers down his spine.

“I missed your cooking. I love Dad’s, but I think you’re taking his place,” she whispered, looking up to meet his eyes.

“I don’t think Tai would be very happy to hear those words, love,” he rumbled in amusement.

“Nah, he’d get over it,” she smiled back. A sleepy look settled over her face, and a yawn escaped her lips.

“You must be very tired,” he noted.

“No, no... I’m fine. Actually let me take care of these dishes.” Ruby left Oscar’s side and grabbed the plates. He suddenly missed her warmth and wanted it back.

“Rubes, come sit down, I’ll get to them later,” he insisted.

“You cooked, so I’ll clean.” She didn’t hesitate to grab the plates before Oscar could, and hurried into the kitchen.

“Thank you!” he called from the sofa.

“Of course!”

She returned a few moments later, just as Oscar was getting comfy.

“I don’t remember this part,” Oscar notes as she sat down. It was the scene where the workaholic female cop had a hard time relaxing on her vacation.

“Oh, yeah, this is a two-part special. This first part’s tonight and the next one’s tomorrow. We only ever watched the second part together,” Ruby replied, her eyes glued to the TV.

Oscar made a noise in understanding.

His fiancée settled in next to him. She yawned again, little tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Come here, you,” Oscar said softly, gently taking her head into his lap. She stretched out the rest of her body, then curled herself up.

“Mhm, thank you,” she whispered to him. She loved when he did this.

The show was almost over, but Oscar wasn’t paying any attention to it. He reached his hand for Ruby’s hair, and ran his hands through it. Tentatively, at first. When she didn’t protest, he took that as permission to keep going. Gently, running through the ends. Black strands with the red highlights at the end. A unique look, but Ruby was all sorts of unique.

“This feels really nice...”

Her voice was getting smaller, and Oscar knew that she’d be asleep any moment from now.

“Go to sleep, love.”

“I’m actually... not as tired as you think. In fact,” she stopped, flipping her body so that she was laying on her back, and her face was parallel to his, “Let me tell you about my day.”

“Alright,” he resigned.

“Well, Ianthe says she misses you. She made me promise to drag you along with me next time I visit,” Ruby laughed. It wasn’t like her usual, overdramatic and hysterical laughter that he had gotten so used to. It was richer, quieter.

Oscar would remember to bring Ianthe something. His niece was fond of plants and always wanted to learn about a new one every time they met.

“I’ll bring her something next time. We’ll go together,” he replied.

“Yeah, she’d like that. Everyone else says hi too. And... Yang dragged me and Blake out to see bridesmaids dresses.” She added the last sentence hurriedly.

“Oh?”

Ruby twiddled her fingers, and sucked in a large breath before letting it go.

“Yeah... I told her that even though we’re engaged, we weren’t really looking at anything yet.” Her eyes wandered to meet his, and he blinked twice.

Oscar thought for a moment. “Maybe we should. I mean, we have a date already.”

“Yeah... two years from now,” Ruby snickered. “You proposed to me knowing fully well that we wouldn’t get to have a ceremony for a long time.”

“Well... I couldn’t wait. I wanted to be with you,” he teased.

“Ah, stop!” Ruby cried, slapping her hands onto her face. It was growing hot. She was definitely blushing. Maybe he couldn’t see it in the dark?

“You’re blushing, love.”

“Shut up!”

“Anyway... we can start doing real planning right now. I don’t mind, but I already live with you, it’s like being married,” he shrugged.

Ruby’s heart went from its small, rhythmic beats, to intense pounding.

“Yeah. It is,” she swallowed.

“Well, either way, I’m glad you enjoyed your trip. I’m even happier you’re home, though.”

Home.

“I am too.”

Soon after that, they both fell silent. Oscar hadn’t stopped finger-combing her hair, even for a moment. It felt so relaxing and so... nice...

Soon enough, Ruby had fallen asleep, her soft snores like a baby’s. It was weird. She was usually a really loud snorer. Her cop show had ended and now a firefighter drama had started in its place.

Ruby, although she wasn’t heavy, was starting to weigh on him a little. But she was adorable, so he chose to stay quiet and enjoy it. Besides, she must’ve been really exhausted.

A yawn of his own, mellow, left his mouth.

Staring back at Ruby’s face, he could see how her flushed cheeks were fading, and how her mouth was still slightly open. Her head began to tilt to the side.

Oscar leaned down and pressed his lips to her warm forehead. In a bit, he’d probably carry her to bed, if he didn’t fall asleep himself before then.

@rwbyrosegardenweek

[imagines4undertale]

Ah, I’m sorry! 🥺 I was meaning the 5 love languages. There’s a quiz online, if that’d help. It has its own website, in fact. And, I suppose I’ll ask for the Horrortale bros plus a random Black. I’m super sorry for the lack of specifics first time around. 🤧 Hope I didn’t cause any trouble!

You’re fine! I’m just happy to be able to answer it. I hope that I did an okay job at it and that you enjoy. I won’t lie, this one took me a while because HT!Paps and Black are the most difficult for me to write, but I did my best! I’ll have some more Asks finished as soon as I can!

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

HT!Sans(Axe)-

Axe’s love language will likely be words of affirmation. In the Underground, there isn’t enough time for people to set aside quality time for each other and there are very few quality things to be given. Even when he makes his way to the surface, Axe doesn’t see the point in many of these things. He likes hugs and affection decently well, but when he has moments of mental lapse he can quickly become violent if touched. Axe will respond to small gifts, but only really if they are food, like a snack bar or small bag of chips. The best way to love this skell is just through telling him how much you love him. Tell him how cute he is to you, how happy he makes you, how good he is at protecting and providing for you and his brother, just anything that you like about him. At first, he is just kind of weirded out as no one has ever really given him this type of praise, but overtime he’ll begin to melt whenever you say these kinds of things. He likes being acknowledged for his hard work and has a hard time seeing the good in himself. To have his small, pure, sweet little SO telling him he is someone worth loving is everything to him. Sometimes, if he’s had a rough day, he’ll just come to you asking for you to tell him he’s not a beast and that he’s a good person.

You were at home, sitting at the table, looking through a recipe book for recipes for the next week. The house was calm and the only noise that could be heard was Papy watching a cooking show on the TV in the living room. It took you a moment to realize what it was, but you began to feel a rumbling in the floor beneath your feet. Axe was in the building and he was pissed. A moment later you felt the door to your apartment slam against the door stopper you installed (Axe put the door handle through the wall) and then slammed back shut. The thudding footsteps made their way to the kitchen and when you looked up Axe was looming over you shaking as he huffed labored breaths. He looks down at you with his single eye light, seeming to hesitate for a moment.

“Hey sweetie, are yo-” You don’t get to finish as you are lifted sharply from your chair and carried out of the kitchen. It’s hard to see where he is going as your face is held in the fluff of his hood, but it felt like he was carrying you down the hallway to the bedroom. When he finally released you, he tossed you down onto your bed. You bounce for a second before you are pinned from the waste down by  wrapping his arms around his hips. He hesitates for a moment before shakily exhaling into your stomach.

“t-tell me… tell me you love me. tell me i’m not a beast. please, i need to hear you say it.” He huffs into your shirt as his sharp finger bones dig into your shirt. You feel a slight dampness on your stomach. Resting your hand on his head, you begin to stroke his head avoiding the sharp edges of his skull. Petting his head, you whisper sweet words of your love and any good traits you can think of to your skeletal love. Eventually, his shoulders stop shaking and his breaths even out into the soft breaths of sleep. You let him rest like that until it’s time for dinner, gently rubbing his head as you think of how you can cheer Axe up when he wakes.

HT!Papyrus(Crooks)-

Crooks is going to react best to small acts of affection. He has almost the opposite mindset to his brother. Nice things are so hard to come by in the underground, and even above ground, having someone thinking of him and putting the thought into giving him a gift means so much to him. Find him a little piece of sea glass in the shape of a heart? He’ll keep it in his bed stand and will refer to it as “HiS LuCKy RocK”. Anything you get for him is going to be either “His LUcky” or “His FaVorIte” just because it came from his favorite human. He loves getting food gifts the most though. Candy bars, small sweets, cookies, chips, anything and everything edible will make him happy. You can surprise him with a chocolate bar when you walk in the door and he will spend the next half hour kissing your face and holding you close to him if you let him. If it’s food that you make just for him though, he might just melt through the floor with love sick happiness. 

Crooks was going to be out all day, going to see a dentist about finally getting braces for his teeth. They wouldn’t be going on today, but the consultation was still going to take hours. Crooks had been nervous about it all week. He was more stable than he was even just months ago and was making great progress in his therapy, but he still had problem days. The lanky skeleton always worried about harming people or simply snapping at others and didn’t want to have an episode at the dentist's office. You or Sans would have gone with him, but you both had work in the morning and Crooks insisted that he “WaS No BAby BonEs” and would make due. When you did get off work though, a bit after noon, you were struck with an idea. You would make a special treat for Crooks to celebrate his progress and to reward him for going to the office on his own. 

When Crooks finally walked through the door to your home after the long day of cramped offices and too many people he just wanted to scream into a pillow. He still liked being around people like he did before the hunger permeated the underground, but after a while the fight or flight instinct from living around so many unstable beings began to rear its ugly head. Crooks just needed some time with HIS human and things would be better. You weren’t on the couch or sitting at the table tapping away at your laptop. 

“GUmDrop? WheRE ArE you?” Crooks’ cracking voice called through the house. 

“In here sweetie! Come here!” You call back from the kitchen with a smile in your voice. Crooks sets down the pamphlets the dentist gave him on his braces and lumbers into the kitchen. A sweet scent hits him as he enters and he looks over to the wide section of counter next to the stove. Stacked high on a cake stand was a layered crepe cake. The cake was about 8 inches high with whipped cream peeking out from each layer and topped with a chocolate ganache and strawberries. Next to it was you, hands lightly covered in whipped cream and face decorated with a wide grin as you say, “Surprise sunshine! I made you a little treat to celebrate your road to recovery!” Crooks just stands there for a moment as a small line of drool slides down his jaw. He wipes it off as he makes his way across the kitchen to you and the cake. Looking between the two, he picks you up so your eyes are level with one another before kissing your forehead and snuggling you to his chest.

“YoU arE the SwEEtEST HuMAN EVER!” His voice vibrates through you. “And thE Best DATe matE A MonsTer COUld ASK foR.... BuT I HOPe You KNOw thAt I aM GoinG To EAt thIs whoLE ThinG MySelF.”

“That’s why I already ate a crepe before you got here.” You say with a knowing laugh.

“LIkE i SAId, ThE BEsT!” Crooks giggles as he puts you down to find a fork and devour your creation.

SF!Sans(Black)-

Black’s love language is likely going to be acts of service. Black has a more militaristic view on relationships, often treating Mutt more like a subordinate than a brother. He still cares for him, but he just shows it in odd ways. Because of this, Black likes acts of affection that show you are loyal to him or that show you care for him. Do things that he asks of you when he asks it, or proactively do things you know he likes done. Remember things that he likes and dislikes and show that you listen to him. If you show up to events that are important to him with flowers to congratulate him, you might just get to see his rare “heart melting with love” face. He often gets ignored for his shorter stature, so to have you listen to him, treat him like an equal, and go out of your way for him is going to make him happy and value you in return. Eventually, this will evolve into Black thinking of you, and privately calling you, his queen or princess (or king, prince, if you prefer) to his king. He’ll treat you that way too, like you are his precious equal in love and in life, spoiling you whenever he can. Your respectful and loving actions are all he needs to know that you truly care for him and that you are the one for him.

Black has been in his office for most of the day working away. He has homework to do for his police academy training and will not be getting anything less than an A+. The other trainees already haze him for his stature and appearance and he won’t be caught dead with his grades lower than those rude buffoons. Black would be lying if he said that his spine wasn’t aching from sitting there for so long though. A call from the front room catches his attention. You seem to be home from your day of errands. Now seemed like a good time for a break. Walking into the main room, Black calls back to you welcoming you home with a kiss to the cheek. 

“Oh, hello my bony prince. It has been such a long day, but a productive one!” You say with an excited bounce as you lay some bags you were carrying on the ground. “Guess what I did today.” Black gives a inquisitive hum as he looks over your shoulder at you fumbling through the bags on the floor. “Well you know how you said that you weren’t able to find the ingredients for that recipe you found online? Well, I had to go to four different stores, but I finally found it. Along with that, since I was already going all over town anyways, I picked up your uniform from the dry cleaning so you don’t have to tomorrow morning. To top it off, I found an outfit that perfectly matches the suit that you have for that Napstabot party next week. I remembered you saying something once about how ‘all good power couples should match’, right?” You straighten up with Black’s dry cleaning bag in hand. When you look over to him he just has a look of surprise on his face before it melts into a warm smile. He walks to you, taking the bag and tossing it to the couch’s arm before cupping your face and kissing you softly. When you break the kiss he is still smiling and then picks you up below the bottom and lifts you into a short spin. 

“WHAT WOULD THE TERRIBLE SANS DO WITHOUT HIS BEAUTIFUL QUEEN BY HIS SIDE?” He asks with a soft chuckle.

“Probably be just as amazing as you always are, but I do try to help your magnificence where I can.” You say with a sly smile as you rest your arms on his shoulders and your forehead on his.

“MEHEHE~, THAT MAY BE TRUE, BUT IT IS STILL PREFERRED YOU HERE, WITHIN KISSING RANGE.” Black laughs as he carries you to lay on the couch, homework forgotten for now.

(Feedback is always welcome, and I’m open for asks!)

[ksj-com]

Request #4 Signature Dish

- Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

- Genre: Cooking show!AU, fluff, smut

- Warnings/Tags: slightly anxious reader, famous chef Jin, cooking date, dom Jin, oral fixation, fingering, sex in public place, angry Jin, rough sex, choking, making out, hair pulling, mark making, nipple sucking, ear licking/sucking, juice tasting, slight m. masturbation, cumming on stomach

- Word Count: 4203 words

- Summary: You thought you were lucky when the famous chef, Kim Seokjin slid right on you on a dating app. Both having a great time spending a romantic night together, cooking and talking. What you both didn’t know was that he was going to be the surprise guest judge on the cooking competition you were going to be in the next day. Will your previous date with him get in the way of your dream to become the next best chef, or will his judging be unbiased?

    “Are you serious?!” Emily, your best friend, screeched on the other end of the phone call.

     “Yes! He invited me over tonight!” Jumping up and down in the middle of your living room, your inner fangirl unleashed her excitement. Better to do it now than on the date.

     “Text me when it’s over and let me know how it went! Get ready and don’t look like a roach or I’ll kill you,” she avowed while laughing.

      Both sharing a laughing fit before saying your goodbyes, you found yourself alone with butterflies in your stomach. After work, you noticed that the famous chef Kim Seokjin showed interest in you on one of the dating apps you had in your phone. After texting him while keeping your cool, he asked you on a date at his house where he insisted on cooking you a great dinner. That date was tonight.

     Still dressed in your work clothes, you rummage through your closet frantically trying to find something remotely attractive to your figure. Finally managing to pull out a cute outfit, you fluffed up your hair and touched up your light makeup. You wore a loose fitted light blue blouse tucked into a high-waisted jean skirt with buttons going all the way down. To complete the look you had a simple gold bracelet, super small light brown purse, and white and black leopard print pumps that had a gold chain that traveled up your foot and around your ankles.

     “Don’t be a spaz tonight,” you point to yourself in the mirror. Since you were also a chef, it may be super easy for you two to hit it off. Maybe he could give you some tips tonight on cooking more difficult dishes. And, god, did you hope that he looked just as good as he did on TV. 

     Soon you find yourself standing in front of his house after your Uber drops you off. His house was enormous, wrapping around the end of a neighborhood that looked off to a view of mountains in the backyard. You take a quick breath before your heels click up to his front door and buzz the doorbell. The sound echoes through the house before he opens the door. His eyes light up when he motions for you to come in.

     “You look great!” he exclaimed with a bright smile spread across his face. Meeting your eyes with his made you almost freeze up. He was just as hot in person. His scruffy black hair to his dark plump lips to his tall, broad body. His light blue button up fell loosely around his toned body along with his khaki colored slacks.

     “Thank you,” you blush. He could read your body language that you were shy with him.

     “Don’t be so shy. I’m not intimidating in person like how I am on TV. I promise,” his hand found the middle of your back, guiding you to kitchen.

     His appearances on TV were somewhat comical from the hard-ass persona he created for himself. From yelling insults to cooks that made minor mistakes, he made people scared of him. But, he was known as one of the best cooks there was and that’s how he kept himself going. With that, the gentleness of the touch on your back seemed completely out of character.

     “You can sit down at the counter while I cook dinner—if you’d like,” he proposed by pulling out one of the chairs for you to sit in. 

     “Well I was thinking that I could give you a hand. You can give me pointers and, maybe, I have a few things up my sleeve as well. I’m a cook too,” you say, curious as to what his response would be.

     “I must’ve skimmed over that on your profile! Where do you work?” he sounds impressed.

     “I have my own restaurant. It’s called La Bella Cucina,” you answer, eating up the look he gives you as his eyes travel up and down your frame.

     “Italian...maybe you should be cooking dinner tonight,” he laughs. He walks over to his kitchen to sort all of the ingredients he had across his countertops.

     Scooting over next to him, you observe the ingredients out. “What were you planning on making?”

     His gaze drifts down at you with a look of admiration. “I was thinking of a spring pea risotto,” he states.

     “Piece of cake,” you give him a wink. 

     He ended up agreeing to you joining him. Standing side by side chopping up food, showing each other tricks and tips, and talking about the two different lives you both live. Normally, cooking next to such a famous chef would make you think that you would be a nervous wreck; yet it was so comfortable with him. Soon enough he was scooping the risotto onto a plate and you sprinkled some parmesan cheese on top to finish it off.

     “Wallah,” he smiles at you. Risotto was a more difficult dish to make and he was thrilled that you guys could work together to make such a delicious meal. Not to mention, you both really hit it off while cooking as well. 

     Once he set the dishes on the table, he pours some wine into both of your glasses. The wine had Picpoul de Pinet written on the olive colored bottle. “This wine has a nice acidity that pairs well with the lush risotto,” he sets the bottle aside after pouring both glasses.

     “Thank you for inviting me over to your home. It’s beautiful by the way,” you unfold the napkin onto your lap before sorting out the silverware in front of you. His gentle touch makes its way back onto your hand when he reaches across the table to place his palm over the top of your hand. The gliding of his thumb made your skin tingle under his touch. 

     “Definitely not as beautiful as you...the second I saw your picture I was so taken aback. And then when you said you’re cook as well? You’re amazing!” he enthused with bright eyes.

     “You have no idea what it means for a great chef like you to say that,” you marvel at his words and this whole situation unfolding.

     He shakes his head while raising his glass and you follow to clink against his, taking a sip afterwards. “Let’s eat shall we?” He sets down his glass.

     You both dive into the dish, immediately falling in love with the forkful in your mouth. Instantly the dish became one of your favorites from the flavor and the person you got to talk to while making it.

     “This is delicious,” you both say in unison causing you both to laugh.

•••

     When the night came to an end, you were quite surprised that he never lead you to his bedroom— a bit disappointed too. He opened his car door for you, a kind act you don’t see a lot of guys do anymore these days. As he drove you home, his hand rested on your thigh lightly. The size of his hands and lengthy fingers made your mind go elsewhere. You really wanted to invite him inside your home when you got there, but you figured that if he wanted to he wouldn't have waited this long. He walked you up to your front door and you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at the size difference between your guys’ houses.

     “Maybe on our second date, you can stay the night and we’ll cook breakfast together too,” he shoves his hands in his pockets. For the first time tonight he looked nervous.

     “Second date, huh?” You couldn’t help but smile. He did like you after all. 

     “I would love to, but only if you would like to as well,” his eyes dance across your face, searching for your answer.

     “Of course!” you exclaimed.

     Watching him inch closer to you, the butterflies in your stomach started to flutter immensely. “Perfect,” his voice breathes before his lips press against yours softly. It was an innocent kiss that left you feeling like you were on cloud nine when he pulled away, his hand still cupping one of your cheeks. “Goodnight (Y/N).”

     “Goodnight, drive safe!” you wave goodbye after he walks down your steps. You push open your door and flip the lights on. Standing by the window, you wait until he drives off before you realize that your cheeks hurt from the intense smile pastured across your face. Leaning against your closed door, you squeal from excitement from the kiss that you never thought you would have. You tossed and turned in your sheets for a while that night, nervous for the big day you had tomorrow and the lingering happiness you had from the night before.

•••

     The Uber ride was silent on your way to the film set. Nervousness coursed through your body, leading you to fiddle with your own fingers to occupy your anxiety. Today was the day that you had the opportunity to show the world the cooking skills you had. Hopefully, giving your restaurant publicity to become the best in town. The show you were arriving to was one of your favorites to watch on TV— called In The Flames. It was a cooking competition show where two people were chosen to make up a dish— based off of the theme for the episode— and the chef with the better dish wins $10,000 and a winner title. In this episode, you were going against a master chef named Min Yoongi who was another restaurant owner in your town. Having never met him, you hoped that he did not have the skill level you did.

     “We’re here,” the Uber driver wakes you out of your overthinking state of mind. When you walk into the building, people lead you to the dressing room where they made you change into a black chef jacket and matching black pants. They placed your hair in a half up-half down style, slapped on some warm brown eyeshadow, and amaranth colored lipstick on your lips. You didn’t have the time to say that you weren’t really feeling the look before you were pushed out to the filming set where you were able to meet your competitor Yoongi.

     You shake each other’s hands, his grip tighter than it should be. “May the best cook win,” his face was deadpan and the opposite of friendly.

     Giving him a warm smile and a nod, you turn away from him immediately after. You had to admit that meeting him gave you an uneasy feeling. Nothing about him seemed welcoming. Winning may be harder than you think today.

     It was almost time for the director to start filming, so you took the remaining time to check out the set. It was a big room with two kitchens next to each other. In the back, there was all the ingredients for any possible dish and in the front there was a small booth with three seats for the judges.

     “Are you guys ready? We’re filming in about a minute,” the director asks, both you and Yoongi nodding in response. The introduction of the show consisted of you and Yoongi sharing your backgrounds in cooking and what it meant for you if you won the money. Once filming the intro was over, you and Yoongi both stood in each of the kitchens.

     “And now we welcome our judges: Kim Namjoon, Jung Hoseok, and our special surprise judge… Kim Seokjin!” The host, Park Jimin, announces. Your stomach drops as you watch Jin walk towards the booth. His gaze meets yours and you watch him eyes widen and then narrow. Is that anger? You shrink into yourself. “Are you chefs ready to cook all you got tonight?” Jimin turns to face us.

     “Yes!” you both shout back in unison.

     “Tonight’s theme is...date night. Cook up your best dinner for a one on one night with that special someone,” he declares before the timer begins to tick on the huge clock hanging on the wall. You almost laugh from the irony, but then the idea hits you: make what you and Jin made last night!

     Jin’s eyes follow your every move as the timer ticks down to zero. You run to the back to collect all your ingredients and spread them across the counter. “You got this,” you whisper to yourself.

     To begin, you boil water for the peas and heat up the chicken stock while waiting for the water to boil. When the water is done boiling, you try to reach for the peas but they’re not there. Panic smacks you in the chest as you forget how to breathe while you look all over; until you find them buried back in the fridge you pulled them out of.

     “What the hell?” Your face twists with confusion as to how they were put back in there. You remember clearly that you pulled them out to begin with. You look around and catch a glimpse of Yoongi smirking to himself. Sabotage.

     Thankfully, after that the rest of the time went smoothly even though you lost a few minutes searching for your missing peas and, soon enough, you were dishing all three of the judge’s plates. You thought you were done with a minute to spare, but another idea came about when you looked at the wine rack. You ran across the room to grab Picpoul de Pinet wine and three wine glasses. The timer rings just as you pour the last glass, setting down the bottle with a wash of relief.

     “Cut! You guys can take a couple minute break before they try your dishes,” the director instructs. To your surprise, Jin approaches you.

     “So was last night a date or a way you can use me for today?” His enduring presence from last night was long gone as he looks at you with disgust. You stood there dumbfounded and a bit annoyed that he would think about you like that.

     “Excuse me? I didn’t even know you were going to be on this show today,” you stand your ground and cross your arms in front of him.

     “It’s really a shame because I thought we really hit it off,” he huffed, not believing a word you just said.

     “No, it’s really a shame that your ego is that big to think that I used you when I’m the one who helped you with dinner last night,” a ring buzzed through the room, signifying it’s time to start filming again. Jin resorts to sitting back down in his chair and waits for the director to start again. Meanwhile, you and Yoongi stood in front of the judge booth, you avoiding to make eye contact with Jin.

     “Action!” the director yells.

     Jimin’s voice begins right after saying, “(Y/N), let’s start out with your dish. Tell us what it is.”

     “I made a spring pea risotto with Picpoul de Pinet that has a nice acidity that pairs well with the lush risotto,” you quote the exact words Jin said about the wine last night. You smugly smile at Jin, “Enjoy.”

     If looks could kill, you’d be split in half by the way Jin stared at your while sipping the wine. You watch him pick up his fork and scoop a pile of the risotto in his mouth. “It’s a bit bland,” he mumbled. In response, the other two judges look at him in disbelief.

     “I think this dish is absolutely amazing! Great job on the risotto,” Jung Hoseok gives you a thumbs up before taking another bite.

     “Yeah ignore what Jin said… this is excellent,” Kim Namjoon nods his head to assure you. Jin sits there in silence as he rolls his eyes at the judges. 

     “Okay judges flip through your scores and show us what you think,” Jimin tucks his arms behind his back as he watches them fiddle with their number cards.

     “Okay, I think we’re ready,” Namjoon says. They turned their cards around at the same time: Hoseok-9, Namjoon-9, Jin-4. Your jaw drops when you see Jin’s card. You knew that your dish wasn’t bad; his pettiness making your blood boil.

     “Okay that averages out to 7.3! Well done (Y/N). Show us what you have for us Yoongi,” Jimin says. 

     “I made you guys a lobster fra diavolo,” Yoongi watches intently as the judges twirl their forks within the dish.

     “Wow… this is magnificent. Super creamy,” Jin wipes his mouth with a napkin.

     “Yes, it’s creamy, but I think it could’ve used a bit more salt,” said Namjoon.

     “Yeah and the lobster is a bit tough on mine,” Hoseok chews. You bite the inside of your cheek to try to hold the flustered look on Jin and Yoongi. When showing the scores for Yoongi: Hoseok-5, Namjoon-6, Jin-8.

     “Okay and that averages out to 6.3. Congratulations (Y/N)! You are the winner of In The Flames!” Jimin applauds along with the judges. Everyone had a smile on their face, but Jin’s face was stone cold. Yoongi nods, obviously disappointed in the outcome.

     “Thank you for having me on the show,” he says before walking out with his head down. The camera follows him out the door and then pans to you celebrating. The thought of $10,000 made you jump and hug all the judges to thank them.

     When the cameras turn off, you walk back over to Jin. “Looks like I didn’t need your approval to win,” you articulated. Everyone leaves the set but you two.

     “I guess not, but apparently you needed my recipe,” he barked back.

     “Maybe so, but at least I don’t have to lie about the food tasting good,” you laugh, jumping back to sit on the judge booth while still facing him.

     “Who said I lied?” a smile finally cracks his face.

     “The other judges’ opinions weren’t coming from an angry egotistical boy like yourself, so I assumed,” you retort.

     He closes the space between you both. “What did you just call me?”

     “An angry. egotistical. boy,” you eye him up and down.

     “Usually I wait a couple more dates for this, but it looks like you need to be shown a lesson right now,” he pulls the middle of your back against his torso as his body stood between your dangling legs. You couldn’t lie and act like his other hand pulling your hair back didn’t make you pool at the bottom of your panties. The way his tongue traveled up your neck to meet your lips made your eyes flutter closed. Once he reached your lips, he connected his to them in a deep kiss. His plump lips wrapped and pulled yours at a quick pace. Your arms wrap around his neck to deepen the kiss even more, his tongue sliding to lick up your mouth. His grip that he had on your hair tightened along with his jeans resting between your thighs. You could feel it pushing against you, so you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him against you more as you yearned for the pressure. Your bodies pressed against one another when he pulled your head back to expose your neck. His lips roamed around the sensitive skin, leaving marks along the way. He tugs at the collar of your jacket before ripping the buttons off, leaving your chest bare for him to squeeze your breasts. You moan as he dips his head down to suck your nipples raw, licking around the tender area. His hand travels down to slip beneath your pants to rub you hard and quick against your underwear. Your breath hitches from his touch, grabbing his hair and bucking your hips to his fingers. To contain your moans, he connects his lips to yours. The dreadful colored lipstick was smeared on both of your faces at this point.

     He fumbled to unbuckle his belt, pants dropping to his ankles when he finally undid them. He didn’t hesitate to slide your pants and panties off as well, leaving you completely naked in the open filming set. He positioned your legs by having your feet up on the table, knees pulled apart, and your pussy propped up for him to enter into. You held yourself up with your arms slanted backward behind you on the table, biting your lip as you watched him look at you with his dilated pupils. Your pussy was dripping for his dick the second you first met him, and now was the time you’ve been waiting for.

     He spread your lips apart with his fingers, moaning as he takes in the sight. “Such a pretty pussy. I shouldn’t have contained myself on the first date,” he curls his finger inside. You whine from him only starting with one finger, but his other hand’s finger pushed into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around it and suck as you watch his reaction. He pulls his bottom lip in his mouth as he watches you. When he curls a second finger inside your cunt, he adds another finger to your mouth as well. As pumps into you faster, you thrust up into his fingers to go deeper. Moans getting muffled from the fingers in your mouth.

     “How about one more finger, hmm?” he whispers in your ear, licking and sucking the lobe.

     You nod and flutter your lashes up to meet his gaze. He moans as he watches you squirm while he slips his third finger in. Instead of adding a third finger to your mouth, he pulled them out to latch around your neck. Squeezing slightly, your moans manage to squeak out as his fingers slam into your soaking pussy. His grip loosens when he slowly pulls his fingers out to stick them in his mouth. He groans as he sucks your juices clean off his fingers. 

     He waited at your entrance with his huge length, wiggling it up and down your folds. Getting impatient, your scoot closer and whine for more. Feeding his ego a bit, he smirks. He’s sure to rub circles around your swollen clit as he inches himself inside of you. Your head drops back from the delicious stretch. Your loud moans echo throughout the large empty room. His breath stutters when he reaches balls deep inside of you. The suction of your tight pussy while he pulled out made him grip on your neck to contain himself. He sucked and nibbled your earlobe as he thrusted into you slowly, enjoying every second of it.

     “Harder,” you whimper. Doing exactly as said, he quickens the pace. The fronts of his thighs smacked into the edge of the table. The position he placed you in made it feel like his cock was being thrusted deep into your abdomen. To get a grip of the immense pleasure, you dug your nails into his shoulders. His hands dropped to your lower back to pull you into him more. As he ground circles inside of you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you pushed your hips up and down his groin. The moans started to become high pitched as you felt yourself growing closer to your high. He took that as an opportunity to push you over the edge by thrusting at an insane rate of quickness. He watched as your mouth opened into an ‘O’ shape and your eyes screwed shut. Your grip on him tightened as you poured all over him still thrusting into you to reach his own bliss.

     Not long after, he pulled out of you quickly. Pumping his length as he laid you down across the table, his load shot and drizzled on your stomach. His moans become guttural as he tugs his last drips on top of you, making eye contact with you when he’s done.

     “One second...they have to have paper towels in this kitchen somewhere,” he picks up his pants before scanning the kitchen. “Ah ha!” he grabs a towel from one of the cabinets and wipes you up gently. Pulling you up from the booth, you now stood in front of each other once again. The disbelief that you just had sex with one of the most famous chefs makes you shy to look at him again normally. He cuts the awkwardness by pulling you into one more kiss.

     “I’m sorry for lying about your dish. I just didn’t want to admit that it was better than mine last night,” he confesses with a laugh.

     You giggle from his words. “I guess you’ll just have to prove your famous cooking to me on our next date,” you nudge his shoulder.

     “Yeah and my manners,” he blushes.

Requested by: I lost the usernames from the rest of my requests, so I’m sorry :(

[buckysbest]

CHAPTER TWO: NOT TODAY PAIRING: best friend!peter parker x reader Warnings: swearing, heartbreak, slow burn, mental health struggles? Series Summary: peter parker is about to embark in the next chapter in his life with his best friends by his side. a secret relationship, a heartbroken girl, and the pains of growing might be strong enough to pry these friends apart. Word Count: 1k A/N: this series is based off the album “the pains of growing” by alessia cara! if you want to follow along, you can listen to Not Today (track two on the album)! i hope you like the new story! Tags: @eridanuswave

series masterlist // masterlist

Lifting boxes all day was a surefire way to exhaust yourself, or at least that's what you thought. Despite your aching limbs and your heavy eyes, the anxiety that ran rapidly through your mind was merciless. Rolling onto your side again, you searched for any sort of comfort by curling under your blankets before throwing them off in frustration with a whine. Sitting up, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and slouched over, allowing your head to fall heavy in your hands before rising sloppily to your feet. You shuffled your way into the now unoccupied living room and plopped down onto the couch, throwing on the tv and scrolling through channels (at a low volume of course). After landing on a rerun of some Nick-at-night original, you got up once more to make some tea, thinking it would calm your nerves. A cup and a half later, you were disappointed to see that you were wrong in your hypothesis. You scrolled through twitter, begging for some sort of distraction from the misfortunate event you replayed endlessly in your head. You suddenly jumped as you heard a sneeze from behind you.

A very tired Peter Parker wandered into the living room, sliding the back of his hands across his eyes sleepily. “Y/N?” 

Your eyes grew slightly wider as your face dropped a little, “O-oh Peter, I didn't wake you did I? I am so so-”

 A small chuckle interrupted you, “No, no, your good” He made his way around the couch and plopped down next to you. “So what are we watching?”

“Nothing, I just couldn't sleep,” you half-smiled at him, flipping off the tv in the process. “I’ll just head back up to my room”

His hand caught your arm before you could escape to your room and he pulled you back down. “Alright Y/N, spill it. You’ve been acting weird all summer… I’m really worried about you.” His troubled eyes scanned across yours, waiting for a response like it was the winning lotto numbers.

“Peter, really it's nothing. Just going through it right now that's all,” you sighed as you leaned back into the corner of the couch and pulled yourself into a ball.

“Well then let's go through it together,” he assured, resting his hand on your knee. “I insist…”

“I-I don’t know Peter… I guess I’m having a really hard time just dealing with.. Uh..” you trailed off, thinking of an excuse. “It's just hard not having MJ not being here with us! It's hard to be the only girl in the house without a little back up, you know!” you chuckled, reading his face in an attempt to see if he was buying your excuses. 

“I know exactly what you mean… I miss someone a lot right now to… “ his head hung a little lower and your heart sunk as soon as he referenced who you could only assume is Liz. “Her smile and her laugh would brighten up a room…” he lost himself in the moment briefly before returning, “b-but you wouldn't know her… I mean you would know her just..I-i mean unless you had a yearbook i don't think you recognize her” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You recognized a white lie when you heard one, especially because moments earlier you were dealing them out too. “Anyway what I’m trying to say is sleep will come, I promise… and until it does,” he smiled, reaching for the remote and flipping on his favorite Netflix special before pulling you into his arms, “I’m here for you.” Your head sunk into his chest as he pulled a blanket over you and got he comfortable himself. 

You smiled up at him as he turned on the subtitles “Thank you Pete… Really..”

“Of course Y/N… It's what best friends are for.” It wasn't long before the soothing brush of his fingers along your arm lulled you into the sleep you had been longing for. 

As clouded vision came to your eyes, blink after blink, you started gathering the surroundings around you. Music was playing in the kitchen and sunlight beamed in through every window in the house. Groggily gaining some bearings, your feet dragged your body slowly into the kitchen where Ned and Peter were trying to cook what appeared to be pasta? 

“Morning Sunshine,” Peter smiled, popping a noodle into his mouth. “We’re almost done with lunch if you cared to join us” he smiled.

“Lunch?”

 Ned laughed as you poured yourself a glass of water and took your vitamins. “Yeah sunshine, it's almost 2:30. You must have been tired.”

“Yeah something’ like that” you muttered as a small smile came to your face. Stretching out your cramped limps, you walked a little more consciously up to your room. A blush took hold of your cheeks as you spotted the blankets on the floor, reminding you of how you found your first bit of sleep in months. Deciding to throw your hair up into a bun and wear an old t-shirt from your collection, you figured you should at least dress up a little. After throwing on your favorite jeans and a necklace Aunt May got you for your 16th birthday, you went back downstairs looking a bit more put together than your previous zombie-state. You stomach grumbled in agreement as you sat down at your new dinner table with your new roommates. It felt good to have great food in front of you and great people around you. As Peter and Ned spelled out their day, they caught you up on the episode of the bachelor they watched together and told you about Peter spilling the first can of tomato sauce. Within this conversation, a laugh left your mouth for what seemed like the first time in months. You found a small beacon of hope that your life might return to how it was, you could forget what you had seen almost a month before and go back to being hopelessly in love with your best friend without a care in the world. You began adding a few more noodles to your fork as the doorbell rang.

“Oh yeah, I invited a few guests over” Ned giggled mischievously, running over to the door and letting the guests in, housewarming gifts in hand.

“Surprise!!”

You and Peter both had the same shock in your voice as you simultaneously gasped, “Liz?”