#not to mention spicy peppers. mistakes have been made.

[vaurien]

gonna be making lentil curry for dinner tonight. i think chopping vegetal is the hardest and most annoying task ever. especially onion. not garlic tho. love u garlic

[yujeong]

For a writing prompt, how about Pete and his grandmother, post-canon? It could be Vegas/Pete + Macau + Pete's grandmother as well or any combination you want ^_^

I wonder how his grandmother would react to seeing a Pete she both knows and one who has been changed. How would Pete walk the line between the truth she deserves to know and the pain he wants to preserve her from? There are so many unique tensions between them that I'd love to see you explore <3

My beautiful friend, how kind of you to send me this prompt ❤️ Pete and his relationship with his grandma has occupied my thoughts many, many times, so this is an incredible chance to explore them. You already know this, but for the rest who will read it, the following will be part of a bigger fic I intend to write someday, which I had presented briefly here: aka, Pete will be teaching Vegas boxing post-canon, despite both of their better judgements. Here, Pete's grandmother finds out about it 😌 It's a very rough draft and very incomplete, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless 🥰 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Pete, dear, you're adding too many peppers." The pan made a sizzling sound when he added the fifth pepper into the mix, ignoring his grandma's comment. "Don't worry, grandma. It's fine. It's not too spicy," he said, adding another one just because. He heard a deep sigh coming from the laptop placed on the counter next to him. A smile appeared on his lips. "For you and me it isn't, but you know how the city boys are." "I know," Pete agreed, "I'm preparing this for them. Macau will be fine, he's taken this as a challenge." "That young man and his bravado," his grandma sighed again. "Sometimes, I worry he'll get himself into real trouble one day." "You and me both, grandma," Pete said and shook his head at the memories that resurfaced. It couldn't really be described as sadness, this feeling that overtook him. More like fondness mixed with melancholy. Macau had been through a lot this past year and Vegas' recklessness lately was making it worse. Not that Pete could exactly blame him for it.

"Pete, the temperature is too high, lower the heat a bit," his grandma suddenly said, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was fascinating how she could understand these things without being able to see the meal being prepared. Pete had placed the laptop at an angle that only showed his torso and the kitchen table behind him, his face hidden completely from view. If he did that on purpose, it simply couldn't be proven in any way. He slowly turned the dial to lower the temperature as he was told, then stretched his arm to grab a wooden spoon with which he started scraping the bottom of the pan, making sure the mix wouldn't get burned. "Hm, I think it's almost done, it only-" "Pete." He stopped talking. He knew that tone. He had made a mistake. "Show me your hands." Fuck. She saw the marks. "I'm cooking grandma, what-" "Stop what you're doing and show me your hands right now." He tried not showing his discomfort as he lowered the heat even more and presented his open palms to the screen. He could see his grandma's wrinkled face, her frown deep and concerning. This was going to be hell. Pete tried avoiding showing his knuckles, but it was impossible; she insisted on seeing every single part of Pete's hands. He always hated when she did that. "Have you started boxing again?" Pete was so thankful she couldn't see the expression on his face. He wasn't sure he would be able to hide the dread he was feeling as he heard the question. "It's just some light exercise, grandma," he said and hoped his voice wasn't betraying him. "Vegas just wanted to be more active and-" "Vegas made you start boxing again?" Another mistake. Pete shouldn't have mentioned Vegas at all, he was such an idiot. He hoped Vegas would understand, when he found out. "Vegas didn't make me do anything." It wasn't a lie. It had been Pete's choice. He had made a lot of those recently. "Pete," his grandma said again, but this time, instead of angry, she sounded sad. Concerned. "If you need money, maybe you could talk to Mr. Tankhun. He could give you your old job back or find you a new one." "I won't fight," Pete yelled, feeling his blood boil at the mention of his old boss. He checked himself before continuing to speak, making sure he sounded unbothered. "Grandma, I won't do any matches. I'm simply teaching Vegas some basic moves and that's it." "Show me your face." A pause. "What?" "I need to see your face, Pete." His heart was thumping in his ears. He didn't want to be seen right now. He almost said so, before an energetic Macau entered the room and addressed him. "P'Pete, what are you making? Oh hi, grandma!" He ran over to the counter and lowered his body to see her clearly. Pete could tell she wasn't happy she lost the chance to see Pete's face, but she hid her displeasure immediately and smiled brightly at Macau, asking him how his day had been so far and if he had any plans for the rest of it. Pete internally sighed and returned to his cooking, his hand trembling as he was scraping the bottom of the pan with a little more force than necessary.

[yuurei20]

Cater Info Compilation part 2: Family and Food

In Book 1 Cater says that he doesn’t have any siblings, but this was a translation error: he has two sisters. They are why he asks to go to Trey’s house for winter break instead of his own.

Cater says that “I just know my sisters are both coming home. They don’t care if it’s the holidays—they’ll run me ragged anyway.”

In his second birthday vignette it is specified that they force him to carry their shopping when they go out will take hot baths and make him go out and buy them ice cream and have him do their hair while their nails dry.

According to his culinary crucible card, they ask him to cook for them as well. Cater says they are the reason he does not know what it’s like to feel homesick.

In his first birthday Cater explains that every present he has received from his sisters on his birthday “was 100% THEIR aesthetic. Cute stuff galore, and nothing but!…plushies, dolls, perfume, soap…” He does say, however, that “they meant well. And lately, they’ve even started asking me what I’d like in advance.”

In his second birthday vignette he says, that when he has other plans he will refuse them and when they go out shopping they will let him keep the change from their purchases and buy him food, but it is uncertain if the family dynamic is legitimately improving or if he is just trying to lighten the mood so that his birthday interviewers do not become too concerned for his wellbeing.

During the Firelit Sky event Trey insinuates that Cater has “been driven half neurotic”. Cater replies with “I have no idea what you’re talking about”.

Also during Firelit Sky, Cater says that he “would just about die of embarrassment if my sisters saw me while I was hanging out with friends”, directly after inviting Jamil’s younger sister, Najma, out with their group.

Trey calls this a “savage move”, and it seems Cater’s ulterior motive had been the fact that “it’s not every day we get to see Jamil all flustered”.

Cater’s sisters are also the reason behind his uncomfortable relationship with sweet foods.

He explains that both sisters and his mother went through a “homemade sweets” phase when he was 10, and they would “pile ‘em on my plate”, even after he started having a hard time eating them. When he refused, “they’d give me the biggest puppy-dog eyes. I couldn’t take it.”

Cater “soldiered on and ate all I could, eventually ruining my taste for anything remotely sweet”. This is a problem for current-day Cater, who lives in the Heartslabyul dorm (where sweets are mandatory at unbirthday parties) and whose hobby is going to cafes and ordering photogenic food for Magicam.

His solution in the vignette is to invite the player out so that they can eat the desserts he orders for pictures.

Cater is often having to refuse offers of sweet foods from those around him, including awamat from Kalim and apricot jam from Najma.

We seem him enjoy coconut water and shawarma during Firelit Sky and he says he also likes “grilled lamb chops with diabolo sauce” and spicy ramen: "the hotter the spice, the bigger the hype-factor!"

In voice lines we hear about “a bright red, diamond-shaped quiche with habanero peppers inside” that was “tailored” to his tastes Trey mentions Cater trying to get him to buy spices from the Scalding Sands (“I assume he wants me to make some of his favorite spicy foods when we get back”) and Cater refers to himself as “a total spice fiend”.

(The Heartslabyul student who baked the quiche goes unnamed, but there is a part where Trey offers to bake Cater a quiche and Cater asks him to “make sure it’s as photogenic as the tarts!”, so it may very well have been from Trey).

Cater’s dislike of sweet foods comes up in the main story after Riddle’s overblot when he describes Riddle’s tart—made with oyster sauce—as “not half as bad as you’d think”.

Trey reveals that he had previously deduced Cater’s dislike of sweets, which Cater had been actively trying to keep a secret.

In the original game Cater chastisses Trey for knowing the truth but refusing to do anything about it (a significant factor behind Riddle’s overblot), but in the English-language adaptation of the game this was changed to Cater chastising himself, instead.

(This was possibly pronoun confusion rather than an intentional rewriting: in both the manga and the novel, Cater's line is correctly localized as him chastising Trey.)

[shinichirosbabymama]

Shinichiro Headcanon idea #4 Shinichiro thinking his s/o is gonna break up with him but in reality is just trying to hide his anniversary present

Omggg I’m sorry for the delay! I’m working on an angsty/spicy Shin fic rn that should be done soon so it was nice to write some lighthearted hcs 

Pairing: Shinichiro x Reader

Warnings: None

Omg no this poor baby is STRESSED

Shinichiro saw you subtly turn your phone screen away from him ONCE when you were laying down next to one another and now he’s spiralling

He’s never really been the jealous type but now he has all sorts of scenarios in his head

He finally builds up the courage to ask you about it and you deny that ever happened because you can’t think of a good excuse on the spot (:

After that Shin notices that you’re being extra protective of your phone and he comes to the only rational conclusion – you’re in love with someone else

He’s dramatic as fuck about it too – doesn’t speak to you all week and finally agrees to meet with you in a public place

You’re nervous because you have no idea what’s up with him and its your anniversary the next day and he’s barely mentioned it

When you arrive, Shinichiro is sat on a bench refusing to make eye contact and you’re like uhmmmm

‘Y/N…I think we both know what’s going on.”

“Do we?” You’re SWEATING because how the fuck did he find out when you were so careful

“Yeah so just spit it out.”

You stare at him for a moment, suddenly anxious because you didn’t expect him to get so upset about this but finally you pluck up the courage to admit your mistake

“Okay fine. I know we said we wouldn’t buy each other anything but I saw you looking at that chain when we were shopping the other week and it really suited you. I’m sorry I went against what we agreed.”

You reach out to touch his hand at the end of your little speech but Shin is stock still staring at you like a deer in headlights

“Eh?”

“Huh?”

“So there isn’t someone else?”

“What? No of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You hid your phone from me!”

“You got THAT from me hiding my phone?”

You’re really annoyed that he would assume you would cheat like that but he gets all emotional when he realises you weren’t leaving him and you can’t help but feel bad

“Babe I’m really sorry I made you feel that way. I just wanted it to be a surprise. You work so hard all the time and I wanted to treat you for once.”

You take his hand, rubbing sooth circles over his knuckles with your thumb. He’s sniffing and definitely trying to hide a few tears

“I didn’t get you anything because I was so sure we were breaking up. I’ve been crying on the sofa and eating ice cream since last night.” He admitted and you have to bite your lip to hold in your laugh

“It’s fine I don’t mind. We did agree not to buy each other anything after all.”

“Hell no! I still have 24 hours. See ya later.”

Before you can even process what he’s saying, he’s jumped up and is peppering your face in kisses before walking off in the direction of town

[translations-by-aiimee]

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 30

Original Title:  二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 30 - This Venerable One Doesn't Want to Eat Tofu

"Hey, hey, did you hear? Elder Yuheng violated the sect rules. As punishment, he has to kneel in Yanluo Hall for three days."

In the morning class the next day, the disciples gathered on the Platform of Righteousness and Evil to practice and meditate. In the end, they are all teenagers and 20-year-olds, and they couldn't just do as they were told. If a master wasn't paying attention, they'll start whispering and gossiping.

The news that Chu Wanning had been punished quickly spread.

The disciples who witnessed the beating yesterday were not shy about sharing the gossip with others.

"Wow, why are you guys finding out about it so late? Oh . . . So yesterday Elder Lucun took you up the mountain to collect night dew flowers? Well then - you guys really missed out on a lot! Yesterday evening, in the Qingtian Temple, there was flesh and blood flying everywhere. It was horrible. Elder Yuheng was beaten with more than two hundred strikes! More than two hundred strikes! Not a single one missed! There was no mercy!"

The disciple made a particularly exaggerated expression every time he said a new sentence. No need to mention the show he was putting on for all his junior brothers and sisters surrounding him.

"Do you actually count all two hundred strikes? Even a big man could be killed, not to mention Elder Yuheng. He couldn't stand it and passed out. This made our young master mad. He rushed in and fought with Elder Jielu. He said not to lay another finger on Elder Yuheng. Ah, that scene—"

His facial features were wrinkled up like a steamed bun. He squeezed his eyebrows. Finally, he stretched out a finger, swaying from side to side, and summed it up in three words:

"Tsk tsk task."

Immediately, a younger sister disciple paled: "What! Elder Yuheng fainted?"

"Young Master and Elder Jielu got into a fight?"

"It's no wonder I didn't see Elder Yuheng in this morning class . . . so pitiful . . . what crime did he commit?"

"I heard that he beat a civilian in a fit of rage."

". . ."

Such gossips drifted into Xue Meng's ears from time to time. Life-Death Peak's young master had completely inherited his shizun's temper, so he was very irritable. It was unfortunate that more than one person was gossiping about this. There were groups all over the Platform of Righteousness and Evil, all muttering "Elder Yuheng was punished" and so on. It made him feel so irritated, but there was nothing he could do.

In one corner was Xue Meng, veins bulging on his forehead, and in the other was Mo Ran, unable to stop yawning.

Xue Meng couldn't direct his anger anywhere else, so he viciously spat at Mo Ran: "The plan of the day relies on the morning. You dog, you're so lazy in the morning! What has Shizun been teaching you?"

"Huh?" Mo Ran said with sleepy eyes followed by another big yawn. "Xue Meng, that's enough. I can handle Shizun's lecturing. Who do you think you are? I'm your cousin. Behave yourself when you talk with your cousin. Don't be so rude."

Xue Meng said fiercely: "My cousin is a dog. Be whatever you want to be!"

Mo Ran laughed: "You're so mean. If you don't look out for your elder sect brother, think about how disappointed Shizun will be once he finds out."

"You still have the audacity to mention Shizun! Let me ask you, when he went to the Court of Discipline yesterday, why didn't you stop him?"

"MengMeng, he's a shizun. Yuheng of the Evening Sky, Beidou Immortal. What did you want me to do?"

Xue Meng was furious. He drew his sword, his sharp eyebrows furrowed angrily: "What the hell did you call me?!!!"

Mo Ran's grin stretched from ear to ear: "Be good, MengMeng. Sit down."

Xue Meng bellowed: "Mo Weiyu, I'll kill you!!"

Shi Mei was caught between the two, listening to their daily bickering. He couldn't help sighing. He silently held the edge of his forehead, trying to concentrate on reading his book: "The sun and the moon are poured in the pot* when the spiritual core is first formed. The way of heaven cannot be interpreted, and life and death are involved in the process. . ."

*(T/N: 日月壶中灌 - referring to the Daoist practice of leisurely inactiveness)

Three days passed in the blink of an eye and Chu Wanning's period of reflection came to an end.

According to the rules, the next thing he had to face was a three-month grounding period. During this period of time, he could not leave Life-Death Peak and needed to go to Mengpo Hall to do miscellaneous chores, clean the corridor pillars of Naihe Bridge, sweep the steps in front of the mountain gate, and so on.

Elder Jielu was anxious: "Elder Yuheng, to be honest, I don't think you should do these things. You are the best shizun of your generation. Doing this kind of dishwashing and floor cleaning . . . it feels wrong." He trailed off, leaving half the sentence unsaid --

The main reason is that the old man doubts whether you can even sweep floors, cook and wash clothes!

Chu Wanning didn't doubt himself at all and went to report to Mengpo Hall in an orderly manner.

All of Mengpo Hall, from the chief steward to the servant, was shocked to hear that Chu Waning was coming to do hard labour. They were terrified, as if they were approaching the enemy.

Chu Wanning, dressed in white, arrived in a flutter.

His handsome face was cold and calm, completely expressionless. If you added an auspicious cloud under his feet and a whisk between his arms, he would've looked like the picture-perfect immortal.

Manager Meng Potang felt very ashamed and uneasy. He was actually supposed to make such a beautiful man wash vegetables and cook.

Chu Wanning didn't have the self-image of being a beautiful man. He stepped into the kitchen and coldly swept his gaze over the crowd, who couldn't help but take a step back.

". . ." Chu Wanning was straightforward. "What should I do?"

The chief steward coyly pinched the edge of his hem and thought about what he should say. He cautiously went with: "How does this elder feel about washing vegetables?"

Chu Wanning said: "Okay."

The chief steward was greatly relieved. He originally thought that Chu Wanning led a very pampered life. He might be reluctant to do this kind of labour, however, all the other jobs were either dirty and tiring or required some skill. He was worried that Chu Wanning wouldn't be able to do a good job. Since Chu Wanning easily agreed to wash the vegetables, he didn't need to worry about it.

As it turns out, the chief steward was really naive.

There was a clear stream in front of Mengpo Hall. Chu Wanning went to the stream with a basket of green vegetables. He rolled up his sleeves and began to wash the vegetables.

This area is under the jurisdiction of Elder Xuanji. Occasionally a disciple of the Xuanji sect passed by. He saw Chu Wanning actually washing vegetables and was so scared that he couldn’t even get a word out. He rubbed his eyes three or four times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He said in astonishment: "Elder Yu-Yuheng -- good-good morning."

Chu Wanning raised his eyes: "Good morning."

Elder Xuanji's disciples shivered and fled.

". . ."

Chu Wanning didn't bother to talk with them and continued with his business. He broke the leaves, washed them, and threw them back into the basket.

He washed them very carefully. He broke each vegetable leaf apart, repeatedly brushing them thoroughly. The consequence of that was -- come noon, the basket of vegetables still hadn't been washed.

The man waiting in the dining room was anxious, pacing around in circles: "What should we do? Why hasn't the elder come back yet? If he doesn't come back with the vegetables, how are we going to make the stir-fried beef and vegetables?"

The chief steward looked at the sun and said: "Forget it. Hurry, let's replace it with braised beef."

So, when Chu Wanning returned, Mengpo Hall had already served the beef. The stew was so crispy and flavourful that there was no need for vegetables at all. Chu Wanning frowned. He held his vegetables, rather unhappily, and coldly asked: "If you didn't want the vegetables, why did you make me wash them?"

The chief steward's hairs stood on end. He wiped the cold sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief and said something that he regretted: "That's not it. I was thinking you could make a pot of stewed tofu with vegetables?"

Chu Wanning had no expression. Still holding his vegetables, he tilted his head and pondered silently: ". . ."

The chief steward hurriedly said: "If you don't want to, that's alright--"

He hadn't even finished speaking before Chu Wanning asked: "Where is the tofu?"

Chief Steward: ". . ."

"Elder Yuheng, do you . . . know how to cook?"

Chu Wanning said: "I'm not completely ignorant. I'll give it a try."

At noon that day, all the disciples happily entered Mengpo Hall as usual in groups, looking for somewhere to sit. Then, they headed to the counter to get their food served.

There was no shortage of food on Life-Death Peak. The food had always been plentiful and today was no exception.

The braised beef was fatty and lean, the fish shreds were vibrant and rich, the farmhouse pork was golden and crispy, and the chopped pepper fish was red and tempting. The disciples rushed to grab their favourite foods, lining up around the hall, asking the chef to add a spoonful of sweet and sour pork ribs to them, pour some marinade on the rice, or add some spicy sauce.

The ones who always made it to the front of the line first were Elder Lucun's disciples. The little guy at the head of the line had a big pimple on his nose. All he had on his mind was some Mapo Tofu. He skillfully carried the wooden tray to the last counter without raising his eyes and said: "Shizun, I'd like a bowl of tofu."

The shizun, with pale, slender fingers, handed him a plate full of tofu.

However, it wasn't the Mapo Tofu he was familiar with. Instead, it was a plate of strange food with a charred black colour and indistinguishable ingredients.

The disciple was surprised: "What is that?"

"Tofu boiled with bok choy."

Mengpo Hall was full of people, so the disciple didn't pay attention to answering the other person's voice. He said angrily: "Are you an alchemist? Can you even call this tofu with vegetables? I don't want it. Take it back!"

While cursing, he glared at the shizun there. As a result, when he saw the person standing behind the counter, the disciple screamed in fright and almost knocked the tray over.

"Elder Yu-Yuheng!"

"Hmm."

The disciple was on the verge of tears: "No, that's not what I - I didn't mean that just now. I. . ."

"Since you're not eating it, I'll take it back." Chu Wanning said blankly, "Don't waste it."

The disciple stiffly picked up the plate, handed it to Chu Wanning then left with his tail between his legs.

In a short while, everyone knew that Elder Yuheng was standing at the last counter, so the originally lively Mengpo Hall was suddenly silent.

The disciples lined up like a pack of puppies, and they hurriedly grabbed their food, panicked. They went up to the last counter respectfully, greeted the elder, and stumbled away.

"Hello, Elder Yuheng."

"Mmm."

"Good day, Elder Yuheng."

"Good day."

"Elder Yuheng has worked really hard."

". . ."

The disciples were very disciplined and were acting with an abundance of caution, so Chu Wanning accepted the tense greetings from each disciple, but no one dared try his pot of boiled tofu with green vegetables.

Slowly, the line was getting shorter and the food in front of other shizuns was almost gone. Only Chu Wanning still had a pot full of food. The pot of vegetables was completely cold and untouched.

Chu Wanning's face didn't waver, but his heart was conflicted. He had washed them all morning. . .

At that point, his three disciples showed up. Xue Meng was still in silver-blue light armour, refreshing getup. He bounced over with excitement: "Shizun! How are you? Does your wound hurt?"

Chu Wanning was very calm: "It doesn't hurt."

Xue Meng: "Well, that's good."

Chu Wanning glanced at him and suddenly asked: "Do you eat tofu?"

Xue Meng: ". . ."

[nonbinaryroyalty43]

A fic about the orange side, maybe he could be confusion or doubt or both

Characters: The orange side (Doubt). Mentions of all the other sides, Thomas, and Nico.

Pairing: Platonic Doubt and Janus and Remus (sorta mentioned at the end)

Warnings: Spoilers for all the videos, mentions of insecurity and doubt (duh)

Summary: The insecurities of the Sides and Thomas make Doubt powerful and soon he’ll be able to break free.

Tell me if I need to add any more warnings!

******

It was almost time.

Doubt’s power was growing, fed by both the Sides and Thomas. It seemed everyone was doubting themselves and each other these days. He didn’t mind. It only made him stronger.

He could feel their insecurity, their worry. Each Sides’ had a different taste, a different feel.

Logic’s doubt was cool and crisp, like a stick of peppermint gum. He seemed to be doubting just as much as the others, despite being “unfeeling”. Whenever the others shut him up, he doubted more. Was he good enough? Did the others actually need him? Or did logical thinking hold Thomas back? His insecurities gave Doubt more power and in turn, Doubt fed into them. He loved making the Sides feel worthless.

Creativity’s doubt was an explosion of sweetness, like eating a chocolate bar. Oh, the doubt from him these last few weeks had been exquisite. He thought he was Thomas’ hero, but now he felt like the villian, especially after Deceit had been accepted. His doubt over making Thomas go to the wedding and over whether or not his behavior towards Deceit had been right caused that sweet taste to explode in Doubt’s mouth over and over again. And so his power grew more.

Morality’s doubt was sweet as well, but a richer kind of sweetness, like a freshly baked cookie. He doubted that opening up to the others was better than repressing his feelings. He doubted that he was actually good for Thomas after all the mistakes he’d been making lately. He doubted that he was needed. Unfortunately for Doubt, Deceit had managed to assuage Morality’s insecurity slightly, but Doubt wasn’t too concerned. After all, he still had five other sides plus Thomas feeding him.

Anxiety’s doubts were bitter, like a cup of black coffee. Anxiety had been feeding Doubt for the longest out of all of them. Wondering if he was good for Thomas, if he was helping. Wondering if the others liked him, if he was needed. Deciding to duck out and then come back had caused all sorts of commotion that made Doubt almost twice as strong as he’d been before. Anxiety doubted less, but there had been that brief flare up when the Duke had been introduced and Anxiety had admitted that he had been a Dark Side. That had been a huge surge of power for Doubt and he’d be forever grateful for that. (Not really. Anxiety had abandoned the Dark Sides, but he would get what was coming to him. Doubt would make sure of it).

The Duke’s doubts were sour, the opposite of Creativity’s. He really didn’t doubt much. He had the occasional worry over whether he was really bad, but he usually shook those off (and if he didn’t, Doubt would help. The Duke was a Dark Side and Dark Sides stick together). The Duke helped Doubt in other ways, like making the others insecure. Oh, it was beautiful.

Deceit’s doubts were salty, like pretzels. He rarely doubted himself. He knew when Thomas needed to lie, when a Side needed to be hidden. He didn’t have time to second guess himself, so whenever he began to doubt, Doubt took it away. Deceit needed to be on his A game, always. Doubt made sure he was.

Thomas’ doubts were spicy, like eating a pepper. Thomas’ doubts didn’t really count, since Doubt was behind them. He made Thomas doubt his relationship with Nico, doubt whether he was doing the right thing. Thomas fed into these doubts, however, and that was what made Doubt strong.

It wasn’t enough, though. Their doubts were feeding him, sure, but he could still feel the chains that hung on him. Thomas wanted to believe he was confident so Deceit was forced to keep Doubt locked away. It didn’t matter. Eventually, Doubt would be to strong to ignore.

Until then, he’d bid his time, making plans, watching movies with Deceit, destroying things with the Duke, and pushing doubt onto the Light Sides. He’d make use of his time because soon, very soon, the chains would fall off.

And Thomas wouldn’t know what hit him.

[zestyq]

The Flavours Of Life - A Sims 4 Legacy Challenge

Sims tend to have a lack of personality. A lack of flavour. But I'm here to fix it. Are you tired of sims challenges either being too short or having wayyy too many goals to incorporate your own creative freedom? Then read ahead!

General rules;

1 - No cheats and cheaty mods. Sims tends to get boring if you cheat money, careers and skills. 2 - This challenge is about having freedom and being flexible. So feel free to edit some of the generation rules for your liking in your playthrough. 3 - Stick to a normal or long lifespan. 4 - Design your sims with the general colours/styles of the generations. 5 - The whole point of this challenge is to have fun so if you don't think you're going to enjoy a gen, skip it!

Generation One, Vanilla;

New town, new life and new opportunities. You grew up with privilege and have never had to work for yourself. Until one day, your parents pass away suddenly and you find they left nothing to you in your will. In a rags to riches style, you have to build yourself up from nothing. Eventually, you gain back your white picket fence lifestyle and marry, then have kids. You care for and love your kids - you want the best for them. But one day you make a grave mistake...

Traits: Materialistic, Snob and Perfectionist.

Aspiration: Succesful Lineage.

Career: Your choice, excluding high intensity jobs.

-Max out a career of your choice.

-Have at least two kids.

-Master parenting and whatever skill(s) correspond with your job.

- Complete at least half of your aspiration

- Have a one night stand with an evil sim, get pregnant and lie to your partner that it's their child.

Generation two, Strawberry;

You've always seemed so sweet and... charming. So charming you can practically manipulate anyone into liking and trusting you. Okay let's face it - you're evil. (I wonder who you got that from). You've been married so many times it's hard to count. It's a shame your relationships never work out. Although you'd prefer to commit crimes all day, you have a reputation to uphold. So you buy a bakery! Some say the special ingredient is love. You know it's much more sinister.

Traits: Evil, Romantic and Foodie.

Aspiration: Serial Romantic.

Career: Baking Business.

-Have a pristine reputation.

-Have multiple of your wives/husbands die under "suspicious circumstances" and take their money

-Have at least a three star business.

-Master the Baking, Charisma and Mischief skills.

Generation three, Bitter;

Growing up your parental figures came and went. Nothing was permanent. Which is why you guess stability never come easy to you. The only thing that remained consistent throughout your life was your hatred of your parents. As a teen or young adult you run away from home at the dead of night and start a new life. With no set goals or plans in your life you jump quickly from one thing from another. You live all over the globe during your life but you finally settle down in the tropical Sulani. Oh, did I forgot to mention you hate children?

Traits; Non-Committal, Hates children and Self-Absorbed.

Aspiration: Beach Life

Career: Any four careers + a term or so of uni.

-Reach level 2 of four careers.

-Go to uni for a degree but drop out sometime during the first term.

- Max two skills and reach level five in another.

-Get pregnant by accident and have twins. (You may cheat)

-Have maxed out hate for at least one parent.

-Get a Nanny for your children.

Generation 4, Salt OR Pepper;

(During this generation you get a choice as who you will play as)

Option 1 - Pepper,

You and your twin sibling have always been polar opposites but that doesn't mean you can't be close! You were always the rebellious one. Sneaking out to parties, underage drinking and hiding your soulmate in your room. Whatever you were doing it certainly wasn't something good. At school you never tried and got an F Grade at high school. But when P.E came around... you were the star of the show. Sports was your natural calling. And after a long day of exercising, you liked to help yourself to a drink.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Active, Hot-Headed.

Aspiration: Soulmate.

Career: Bodybuilder Branch of the Athlete Career

-Max the fitness and mixology skill

-Complete the Soulmate aspiration.

-Reach level ten of the athlete Bodybuilder Branch

-Have an alternative style for the majority of your life.

-Have max friendship with your twin.

-Meet your soulmate as a child and stay together forever.

Option 2- Salt,

You and your twin have always been close friends but that didn't stop you from feeling jealous of their perfect relationship. During school you always had your head in a book and at the library one day you meet someone to love. But it didn't work out. For a lot of your life you were stuck in a loveless relationship that ended in divorce and kids to look after. You wrote romance novels in hopes that one day the stories would come true and you'd find that special someone to call your "soulmate". And eventually, you do! In the last years of your life you meet your special someone...

Traits: Romantic, Gloomy and Bookworm.

Aspiration: Bestselling Author.

Career: None. You can only get money by self-publishing books.

-Max out the writing skill and logic skill

-Complete the Bestselling Author aspiration

-Meet your first love at the library during "Book Club"

-Have a divorce as an adult.

-Have max friendship with your twin

-Marry "the one" as an elder

Generation 5, Spicy:

Growing up you always wanted to be the centre of attention. You always had a fiery and unpredictable personality. Sometimes you'd fabricate stories just so your parents would feel bad for you. As you got older, nothing changed. You became a famous actor. People around the globe loved you and the roles you'd play. One night you spot a paparazzi and the flirtations began. At first you thought it'd be nothing; you were used to pretending to like someone. As the night progressed, you and the paparazzi hooked up and a child was conceived. Terrified of what the public would say you quit acting, become a stay at home parent and marry the paparazzi.

Traits: Self-Assured, Ambitious and Erratic.

Aspiration: Master Actor.

Career: Actor, Stay at Home Parent.

-Master the acting and cooking skill.

-Reach at least level 5 in the acting career.

-Complete at least half of the acting aspiration.

-Marry a paparazzo.

-Become a three star celebrity.

Generation 6, Orange:

You always knew your parent loved you but you could tell they'd rather be famous and living a life of luxury. They signed you up for drama club in the hopes you'd fulfil their dreams but you'd rather be playing with your doll family at home. Babies. Something about them was so cute to you. You grew up and had a large family. You managed to balance work and family perfectly. You gave your children full unconditional love and they returned it. Despite being unwanted as a child, you made sure your children felt belonging. One day it all changed. One of your children passed away in a fire and you were distraught. But you wouldn't let them be forgotten; every week you made at least one painting dedicated to them.

Traits; Creative, Family Oriented and Paranoid.

Aspiration; Big Happy Family.

Career; Painter.

-Master the painting skill.

-Complete the Big Happy Family aspiration.

-Make at least one painting a week after your child passes.

-Have 5 or more children.

-Attend drama club as a child.

Generation 7, Sour:

Your childhood was fairly uneventful. Except from the fire incident... But you don't talk about it. You prefer life to have a kick to it. You spend your life seeking danger. Some days you'll be climbing the treacherous Mt.Komorebi, others you'll be exploring the ancient tombs of Selvadorada. Whatever you're doing it's sure to be fun. For a while you settle down and have a child but as soon as the child is old enough to journey with you - it's back to the thrill. Life doesn't wait. Neither do you.

Traits; Adventurous, Loves Outdoors and Slob.

Aspiration; Jungle Explorer

Career; None. You sell fossils and artifacts.

-Max the Seladoradian culture and archaeology skill.

-Complete the Jungle Explorer aspiration.

-Reach the top of Mt.Komorebi.

-Have a child with a Seladoradian Native.

Generation 8, Sweet:

You grew up in a wild family. You often went on wild journeys with your parent but you didn't really want to live that life. Music was your passion. Anything musical was perfect to you. Through joy, sorrow and hope you played music. You became an entertainer and married your co-worker. You sang soft lullabies to your children when they cried and serenaded your partner when things were getting romantic. After a long days work, you come home and see your partner in bed... with the maid! Do you forgive and forget? Or do you divorce?

Traits; Music-Lover, Good and Jealous

Aspiration; Musical Genius

Career; Entertainer

-Max out two instrument skills and singing.

-Max out the entertainer career

-Donate to charity once a week.

-Adopt two children from less fortunate homes.

-Catch your partner cheating on you

FYI;

This challenge is my first one so please don't hate. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Also this challenge is loosely based off of the not so berry challenge by lilsimsie. Go subscribe to her :)

[writing-frenzy]

I Wouldn’t Risk It (SVSSS Fic)

Summery: In which one annoyed Shang Huan does not know why he puts up with a certain Demonic Cultivator- “I owe you.” ah, that’s right.

Warning: some Violence and blood, and cursing. All good things to be found in svsss canon~

(In which @hamelin-born is a terrible, wonderful enabler, thus this is how it came about.)

EDIT: Part of Wager verse, first Part HERE

----

“Welcome to- oh wait it’s you.” Shang Huan started to greet some incoming customers, only to give the pair that came in a flat look instead.

“Greetings Uncle Shang!” Cao Mei, an actually adorable raven haired girl, her purple eyes so dark one could almost think they were black if it weren’t for certain lighting here and there. Puberty was obviously treating her well, seeing she must have been 19 at least, was developing some curves, her baby fat also finally melted off. But despite this, Shang Huan was unmoved, as for one, he wasn’t a fucking pedo, and two, he could easily see that same matching intelligence and calculation she inherited from her grandfather’s own dark purple eyes.

As expected of Wife #45; not only a knock out beauty in the making, but even had more IQ points then most, along with a more developed character and backstory then a lot of his later wife plots.

Though, he could admit he was taken off guard with her story then most; the cause of that being one certain person-

“I see the place hasn’t burnt down yet; congratulations for that.” was huffed by said anomaly, making Shang Huan focus his deadpan face on the other.

“Thanks, my kitchen staff is always trying though.” and no sooner were the words spoken, then what sounded like multiple firecrackers going off in said kitchen... He could even swear he saw what looked like a blue firework of a bird fly out from there, before one of his handy golems ate it as it passed...

Closing his eyes, Shang Huan counted to three, before opening them once more; he would never be able to count as high as he really wanted, but time was rarely on his side, so three it was. Hazel eyes once more opening, Shang Huan was able to look at a source of many headaches, one Dark Poison Sect Leader, Cao Xiaowen, a true doting grandfather who still looked like he was only in his late 20s, his blood red hair peppered with black from all the resentful energy surrounding him, and greys from stress of life actually catching up with him.

And a character that was never in Proud Immortal Demon Way, but yet again from one of his other stories; a Demonic Sect Leader that had just been a random background character, just to flesh out that world a bit more. He had only named because while he could get away without naming the Sect the guy made, it wouldn’t make sense to have Cao Xiaowen be nameless, seeing as he had bullshited a whole bunch of techniques this infamous and well known demonic cultivator was supposed to have made...

Making a face at that smiling face before him, Shang Huan felt some regrets; just some more to add to his pile stashed in his closet and under his floorboards, but what can one do? Especially with a story that seems to make sure he can never forget any of them, always seeming to push willing to push cheery, willful mistakes into his face.

i.e. the Demonic Sect Leader before him.

But then again, to see these two characters, Cao Xiaowen and Cao Mei connect here, in this living world of PIDW and other mash ups, was honestly rather amazing, just with Demonic Cultivation and the same last names... It was as fascinating as it was paranoia inducing. Cao Mei had been just another revenge wife plot, the young woman wanting vengeance against her Mother for killing her loved family members along with trying to kill her... as well as to save her young baby brother, who their Mother was trying to mold into her perfect image of Sect Leader. The girl had only been able to survive for as long as she did because one of her dying relatives had sacrificed themselves, turning themselves into her Spirit Familiar and protecting her...

.... And as for Cao Xiaowen, when he had mentioned how he went down in his end in his own story verse, Airplane had only said that it was due to betrayal and sacrifice, that being the only ending he gave the character...

(How many other fucking throwaway lines does he have to worry about ohmygodwhyisthishislife-)  

“...So, why do you choose now to darken my doorway?” Shang Huan asked, the unspoken ‘I-know-you-hate-this-place-much-less-willing-to-bring-your-beloved-granddaughter-with-you.’ not said, but easily heard.

“... You would be glad to know, but I must now introduce you to Sect Leader of the Dark Poison Sect, Cao Meihui.” Cao Xiaowen introduced as he motioned to the young girl. Shang Huan stared for but a moment before closing his eyes once more, even as whispers broke out all around them in his place, from the gambling tables to even the bar and restaurant.

This time he allowed himself to count to 10, as a treat.

“Follow me this way, Elder Cao, Sect Leader Cao.” and with a simple hand motion, a few of his workers already getting things done, the Ruby Room already to entertain his ‘guests’. It didn’t take to long after all, with his standards and staff precision, but he needed to make sure there was nothing to spy on in this conversation.

Because oh, does he have a lot to say right now.

Once the door was closed and all the silences spells and talismans in place, Shang Huan rounded on the now sitting pair, letting his hands slam on the service table before him.

“Can you not?!” Shang Huan seethed, even as Cao Xiaowen grinned, his heir now leader beside him shifting ever so slightly beside him, smartly making some space between them.

“Why, Shang Huan, what ever do you mean?”

“You politic in my place again and I will make sure to show the world just how much I can beat you into the ground.” was practically growled, Cao Xiaowen smartly raising his hands in surrender as he did. “Why the hell did you even need to do that, didn’t you already get the stalker bitch killed and dispersed last year? I distinctly remember being there for the mad ramblings.” 

-Urgh- he never wanted that much TMI into someone’s deluded sexual fantasies, especially rounding around this who-me? Demonic Cultivator! Body stealing and marrying the guy’s son just to get a possible chance at him, and then killing him and half his family when she still couldn’t get what she wanted to spite him?

Shang Huan doesn’t move, but that still doesn’t mean he’s not fighting a shiver of repulsion at the thought. Seeing the way Cao Xiaowen grimaced at the reminder, Shang Huan was actually starting to feel in a better mood. 

“While she and most of her supporters are now gone, traces of those who still hold sympathies for her and her ideals still remain.” the man scowled, even as he took out a small sachet, handing the small plain back over as he did.

Hmmm, spicy roasted melon seeds; say what you will about the man, he did know his bribes at least.

“They’re also trying to push my little didi to be the next Sect Leader, even though he never wanted it in the first place!” Cao Meihui scowled in turn, taking out a beautiful, yet still deadly battle fan to fan herself. “Really, he has suffered enough under that woman’s ‘care’, he should be able to choose however he wishes to live in life!”

Shang Huan doesn’t even wince at those words, even as he thinks on the poor fate of canon fodder Cao Yun, a young boy desperate to leave his harsh home circumstances, even joining a certain Righteous Sect set to be doomed and destroyed, loosing his home once again and setting him in turn on a doomed quest to stop Luo Binghe...

Well, considering the boy had left home at 15, and had only just turned that this year, maybe that path could be prevented; there were still plenty of other Sects still up and running when his protagonist came into power, maybe he could join one of those?

Still though, maybe he should give the kid a transportation talisman for his birthday; you can never have too many of those after all.

“That still does not explain why you had to announce Young Mei right in front of my store.”

“Please, it’s the perfect place too; not many completely neutral places around anymore, what with Hua Hua Palace trying to police everyone and dragging the other Righteous Sects into it... Speaking of which, they haven’t bothered you after last time, have they?” Cao Xiaowen asks, with what looks like could be actual concern in his eyes.... Ha-

“I’m pretty sure they won’t forget my warding anytime soon; not to mention the rest of the towns folk’s farewells.” Shang Huan replies dryly, remembering just how all those golden pricks were beautifully thrown from his store, some of his staff even joining in on the beatdown the protection brought forth. If he remembers right, it soon became a whole town wide event to run them all out. 

And when you have a whole town seemingly a melting pot filled with Spiritual beings, humans, and demons, they definitely are going to have their wounds to lick.

“But again, my place is, as you said Neutral; so why are you bringing in politics here? Announcements of a new Sect Leader should be only at official events or places that one is already allied with after all.” The Owner of the Gilded Plane asks lightly, those hazel eyes taking on a deadly touch, like molten liquid gold is taking over bronze, a sunset of colors being the last of the sky you will ever see, easily to see it all reflected in the blade at his side.

(Ah, how terrifying, seeing the threat of Fortune’s Favored all out to bare, Dujin Xue at his side, the spirit weapon willing and bloodthirsty to take out any threat to its master.)

For a moment, all is silent, before finally, the red haired cultivator takes from his sleeves, a few boxes simple in their decorations and yet obviously of the finest Jade.

“I almost forgot; I have with me some of the finest of Blight and Poison Talismans with me, not to mention my newest creations; a Pipa made with Blood Drain White Wood and using heart strings of an abyssal creature, painted with curse residue.” Cao Xiaowen motions to an opened box with said black and purple instrument with white accents, truly a work of art and power, even unbound as it is, no master to really work those deadly strings just yet.

Another box is soon opened as well, revealing a twin pair of daggers, their blades white with a beautiful red handle for a hilt. “Not to mention these Ancient Necromancer’s Bone Daggers, recently uncovered in an old tomb, plenty of resentful energy and dark desires just waiting to be unveiled in any upcoming battle, madness in but a cut to be delivered...” the former Sect Leader says, a bit of sweat coming from his brow, those dark eyes uneasy even as he hides behind his bluster and charm. His granddaughter, Cao Meihui watches intently, her own dark eyes worried even as she is awed by her beloved grandfather’s work, and the man who can make him so nervous. 

The one Fortune’s Favored watches and listens, and waits, even as he is showcased all the wares most people would die to get their hands on, each item worth more then most lives to some.

“... I will give you a warning and you will be Marked for it; there will be no next time if you try and pull this stunt again, you hear me Xiaowen?” Shang Huan allows, eyes turning back into that warm and soft hazel, even as he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he does. Well, at least he now has more good things in store for his gambling patrons, who will no doubt go crazy for these goods.

(Never noticing how the familial pair relax, a breath of relief taken for their own that this gambit actually worked, even if they are now Marked by all the staff.

Best behavior is a must for now at least.) 

-----+----- 

~15 Years ago~

Cao Xiaowen, once just regular Cao Xiao, was a man most would never dare cross; as a Demonic Cultivator, you wouldn’t even be able to escape through death. He had cultivated carefully along his chosen path, having no talent for what was Righteous roads, so turned down to darker paths and alleys to get what he wanted. He had been smart about it, and equally talented for Demonic Cultivation, becoming a Bounty Hunter to be able to hide just what practices he used.

Not only did it get him much needed gold, but the resentful energy and blood of the wicked were quiet useful on his path. Unlike other Demonic Cultivators that sought to take in the energies as fast as possible to form their Obsidian Cores, killing innocents, and eventually needing Cauldrons in the end to balance themselves and to go farther in their Cultivation, Cao Xiaowen went for a more steadfast pace.

He first started with crafting items of Resentful energy, talismans and amulets to get a better feel for the delicacies of the energy he chose to work with. With time and effort, along with plenty of meditation and blood on his hands, he found a cultivation path that suited him rather well, untraditional as it was for the usual brutal force most Demonic Cultivators usually went. His path was like a slow acting poison, letting the wicked energies ever so carefully, ever so gently gather into his meridians, building up a steady foundation before he ever focused on building his Core.

And the results for it were astounding; when compared to traditional Demonic Cultivators, not only could Cao Xiaowen hold his own with those stages above his own, he could beat even those whose Cultivation that was said to be an entire level above him. Not to mention just how devastating his spells and attacks were against those of the Righteous Sects.

It was no surprise that when he founded his own Sect, he had plenty of disciples to chose and pick from...But he wasn’t stupid.

He knew he had plenty of enemies all around him, some just jealous of his power, others hateful of just how he got it, being a Demonic Cultivator was a sin for some even if he only went after criminals. That he was a rather attractive even as his red hair was peppered black and grey, and even a few tigers acting like pigs to be fatten all came for him in the end. He knows people were waiting in the shadows, eager to take him down and steal everything he worked for, salivating over his abilities and life work...

Though despite it all, he never expected the betrayal to come so close to home.

“P-papa.” was stuttered out by his honestly rather adorable Granddaughter, the young four year old sobbing as she reached for him; his daughter in law smiling all the while even as she held one of his crafted knives to the little girl’s throat. He had to give it to her, not many women could still look so devastatingly beautiful, covered as they were in their husband’s blood. He never expected the raven haired woman to be so ruthless, honestly sure the woman loved his son.

Looks like he still has errors in his judgement, even at his age; taken off guard on what he though would be a simple material gathering mission, only to be crippled and threatened by a woman he thought he could trust even as she slit his beloved child’s throat before his eyes.

“You really shouldn’t have refused me all those years ago; this all could have been avoided if you had just agreed to be mine... oh well, too late for regrets.” The woman mourns softly, making Cao Xiaowen feel his brow crinkle, dark eyes confused.

But trying to parse the words of the mad woman was not something he had time for, seeing as his lovely little granddaughter was suddenly in his arms, the both of them finding themselves being pushed off a cliff, and into the Broken Jaw Ravine.

Using what remained of his spiritual energy in his blighted Obsidian Core, Cao Xiaowen was fully prepared to become his dear granddaughter’s Familiar Spirit to protect her...

When in the end, it turned out unnecessary; they ended up landing in a Spirit Capture Net. And judging by the pure color and Qi he could feel running through it, a high quality one at that. Feeling how it blocked him from using any of his spiritual energy and Qi, he looked to his darling dear grandchild, the (forcibly) retired Sect Leader couldn’t help but feel so relieved to see her shaken, but well at least in body.

And then he heard the cursing.

“What in the fuck you soggy old vulture of a corpse! Curses on your fucking clothing to never be nice and pristine, to always stub your toe on the corner, to be miserable even when you have your favorite food! Do you know how long it took to make that net?! Could you have fallen somewhere else? No, of course the skies would decide to shit on me with some young man in my beautifully crafted net! Probably jumped off for the heck of it knowing how fucking dumb most Demonic Cultivators are! ARRRHGGGG YOU DAMN WALNUT!” was practically ranted below them, a young brunet man yelling up at him, who couldn’t be more then in his 20′s. (Though rather impressively at the Peak of Core Formation from what he could sense.)

As it was, two pairs of dark eyes could only give the ranting rouge a wide eyed stare, even when, in the end, the young man let them down, hazel eyes narrowed in on them. He raised one brow at his child that was with him, but easily narrowed them back onto Cao Xiaowen’s own.

Ah, he could probably sense his power (use his weakness).

“So, this is how it is going to go down. I’ll help heal you and your kid, won’t even leave her in debt... tho your ass is mine; I say jump, you better do it and ask if this is high enough. You will owe me till the end of your day and then some, and in return I will benevolently help you out. You agree or should I leave you and the kid here for any unpleasant fates?” was the rather grumpy, if smartly given offer, Cao Xiaowen finding he can’t help but respect it, even as crudely as it was put. Looking down to his innocent little Cao Mei, the grandfather could only nod at the offer, no other recourse that could ensure his little gem a better chance at life.

And thus marked the first meeting between the terrible and powerful Dark Poison Sect Leader Cao Xiaowen, and the Rogue Cultivator Shang Huan, who would one day have a title even greater then his own.

Amazing really, how some things start (and others end).

-----

:D Here we are, another story from this verse; it was really fun! (even if I actually had to create a damn timeline to make sure everything was straight TTxTT)

Anyways, here is an ally of Airplane! Their relationship can be described as.

Shang Huan: Why do I put up with you again?

Cao Xiaowen: Because I have the best gifts bitch. *Inwardly sweaty*

But Also-

Cao Xiaowen: So... Demonic Cultivating involves a lot of... Dual Cultivating huh... And are those innocents being brutally murdered over there?

Rando: Yeah, ain’t it great? :D

Cao Xiaowen: ... *proceeds to make a cultivation path that involves as little Dual Cultivation as needed while also being one of the nicest ironically* Ah, that is better, better get more wicked blood~

These two were really fun to write together, and with PIDW, I can make as many ocs as I want~ So much to do, so much to play with~

Oh yeah, Shang Hua’s blade, Dujin Xue means Gilded Blood :3

Cao I picked for being a common last name, while Xiaowen means red skies. Mei means red gem, but for Meihui I liked the meaning of monstrous/demonic beauty~ As you can see, I had fun~ 

[stufftippywrote]

consequences

@notenoughgatorade prompted me with #33 from this list! I’m still taking prompts!

Set in CQL/TV The Untamed universe.

The urge is just too unbearable. And today is a ridiculously good day, the sky bright and the breeze crisp, and Wei Wuxian's in a sunny mood. He's about to run off with the juniors to Caiyi Town for lunch, leaving Lan Zhan to tend to his own matters for a while. Nothing he hasn't done before, nothing he won't do again. And the urge is nothing new, either. Lan Zhan stands at the screen door to see him off, and every time, Wei Wuxian feels the persistent and annoying need to peck him on the lips before he goes.

It's just an odd urge that occurs to him once in a while. Who knows why.

And today his heart is humming and he feels like nothing can go wrong. So just as he's saying his goodbyes, promising to be back before sundown and all, he suddenly darts in and presses a quick kiss to Lan Zhan's mouth. "Behave," he says. "I'm going now."

And he walks casually out of the doorway and through the courtyard and away. Like nothing happened.

But now that he’s done it, his pulse is jumping and he’s terrified of the consequences. The moment he is out of Lan Zhan's immediate line of sight, he ducks behind a tree and peeks back toward the jingshi.

Lan Zhan's hand is on his mouth. His eyes are blown open wide. He's standing stock still.

Oh, no. He’s made a huge mistake, hasn’t he?

Well, nothing for it now. He'll just have to apologize when he gets back. He doubts Lan Zhan will kick him out or anything for the imposition -- they've been living comfortably in the same building for a month since Wei Wuxian returned from his travels.

He goes to collect the juniors and set out for lunch and inevitable shenanigans. They'll keep his mind off it.

--

It's midafternoon when they return. Wei Wuxian has successfully distracted himself via spicy food and animated conversations among the juniors. He's rather proud of Sizhui and Jingyi, who spent the majority of their walk back arguing over whether a talisman should include a certain stroke or not (Sizhui thought it was reckless; Jingyi said that's the only way it's effective). Others talked about the girls they saw in town; one shyly confessed to having a crush on one of the female disciples, and was roundly teased for it. All in all, Wei Wuxian was able to keep his mind off his reckless action this morning. Mostly.

That all fades the moment they passed through the gate to Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian is suddenly terribly nervous.

What will Lan Zhan say? he wonders. What will he do? Will I get a scolding? Or maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe he's already forgotten all about it. That's meant to be a comfort, but it isn't -- partly because Wei Wuxian doubts it's true, and partly because a piece of him doesn't want Lan Zhan to forget about it.

Which is odd, it was a mistake, Lan Zhan usually lets his mistakes go, why should Wei Wuxian want him to remember it?

He sneaks back behind the same tree where he hid before, peers through the brush at the jingshi.

Lan Zhan is still standing at the door. His hand is still on his mouth. It looks like he hasn't moved a muscle the whole time Wei Wuxian was gone.

Looks like he hasn't forgotten about it at all.

Wei Wuxian pauses in trepidation outside the gate to the courtyard and summons up all his cheerfulness, pasting a big smile on his face. Maybe he can talk his way out of this.

"Lan Zhan!" he calls with a big wave as he enters. "You missed a fun trip! I hope what you were doing wasn't too boring, but who am I kidding, it was probably boring." He saunters up the steps to the Jingshi. "It's hard to believe how much A-Yuan has grown in the months I've been away. I've mentioned it before, but today--"

An arm blocks his way. Lan Zhan is blocking his access to the Jingshi. His jaw is clenched.

Shit.

Wei Wuxian summons up his boldness and puts a hand on that outstretched arm. "Lan Zhan. Don't tell me you are still hung up on that little joke I played on you this morning. It was just for fun! I didn't mean anything by it."

Lan Zhan lowers his arm slowly. His eyes narrow. "It was a joke?" he asks, as though he hadn't even pondered the possibility.

"Well, what else could it be? No, you know what, don't answer that question, it's too embarrassing. Anyway, tell me about your afternoon--"

"Don't do it," Lan Zhan says, a trace of coldness in his voice, "if you don't mean anything by it."

There's some implication there that Wei Wuxian is scared to examine. He saunters into the room and stretches, extending his arms as wide as he can. "That reminds me of something you told me a long time ago. In the cave. You were so upset about my flirting, do you remember? I said at the time you probably liked Mianmian. You got so angry." Why is he still talking about this? He has the vague feeling he's making things worse.

"I didn't," Lan Zhan says. "Like her."

"It's all ancient history anyway," Wei Wuxian says, sitting down. "Who cares who you liked? We were kids. Do we have fresh tea? The spicy peppers are still sticking with me. I'm afraid I may have some bad breath. You probably don't want to come near me."

And Lan Zhan certainly doesn't seem eager to come near. He's still standing at the doorway, watching Wei Wuxian with some interest. "I'll get tea," he says, and descends down the steps and away.

With him goes an ominous atmosphere; the air feels visibly lighter when he's out of the courtyard. Wei Wuxian sighs. What was that reaction about? Lan Zhan wasn't angry; neither has he forgotten it. More than that, what about Wei Wuxian's own reaction? Why does he care so much, anyway?

He leans back and folds his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.

It was just this odd urge he felt once in a while. Now that he's done it, that should be the end, right? But there's something unresolved in all this. Something unsettling. Like this isn't, or shouldn't be, the last time.

That's the issue, isn't it? Wei Wuxian wants to do it again.

I want to kiss Lan Zhan.

He thinks the words methodically, one at a time, then tries them out loud. They sound less absurd than he'd expected. But he doesn't have those tendencies, does he? Granted, if he did, Lan Zhan would definitely be the guy he'd go for. He's handsome and genteel and, more than that, sweet and affectionate in the moments Wei Wuxian steals for himself, the ones no one else gets to see. There are times when he looks at Wei Wuxian and it makes him melt inside. Nobody else has ever looked at him like that.

Lan Zhan looks at him like that. Like he’s the only person in the world.

And Wei Wuxian wants to kiss him.

Oh.

The realization knocks the wind out of him. He has to remind himself to start breathing again.

It's an eternity until Lan Zhan returns with the tea. He's expressionless as he pours one cup for Wei Wuxian, one for himself, then sits neatly at the table across from him.

Wei Wuxian stares at him without saying a word. Now that he knows, he wants. The line of Lan Zhan's jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the feel of him in the room. The curve of his hands around the teacup. Everything about him is staggeringly beautiful. Wei Wuxian has to wonder why it took himself so long to come to this epiphany. Who wouldn't fall in love with this man? He's everything anyone could ever want.

He's everything Wei Wuxian wants. He always has been.

"Will you drink?" Lan Zhan asks, breaking the silence.

"Ah-- of-- of course." Wei Wuxian forces a short laugh. "I got distracted."

Even so, Lan Zhan doesn't let him take more than a sip. "Wei Ying."

"Y-yes."

"Please ... think of the consequences of your actions." Lan Zhan's brow is furrowed, and his gaze is downward, as though he's unsure of what he's saying.

Wei Wuxian sighs. "You say that, Lan Zhan, but how am I to know what those consequences are? A talking-to and then we get tea? I'm thinking if I did it tomorrow, that wouldn't be your only response." Lan Zhan's eyes widen in sudden panic.

Wei Wuxian waves him down. "I won't do it tomorrow, don't worry." He tries to keep the smile off his face, but it's hard.

"Oh." Lan Zhan's gaze wavers. "Then there's no need to discuss it."

"I think there is a need," Wei Wuxian says, and he scoots himself around the table to take a seat next to Lan Zhan. "I think you really need to make clear what the consequences are of doing it again. In fact, I think it's so important, I'm willing to do it again just to find out."

The panic returns to Lan Zhan's eyes. "Wei Ying..."

Wei Wuxian leans forward. "Go on, then," he says, "show me what my punishment is." And he closes the gap between them and kisses Lan Zhan's soft lips. A little longer this time. Just a second or two, then over, and Wei Wuxian smiles. "What are you going to do to me?"

Lan Zhan grabs the back of his head and pulls him back in.

--

It's two hours later, and the sun is fast disappearing beyond the horizon. The rays shine slanted on the bed, and a golden sheen appears on Lan Zhan's bare side. Wei Wuxian touches his skin with two fingers, strokes. Lan Zhan murmurs approval.

"Why didn't we do this a long time ago?" Wei Wuxian wonders aloud.

"Many reasons." Lan Zhan says, touching Wei Wuxian's face with a gentle hand. "Mostly, I didn't know how you felt."

"That makes two of us," Wei Wuxian says ruefully. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

"It's fine." Lan Zhan's traces the shape of Wei Wuxian's lips with a finger. Simple, light contact, but Wei Wuxian can't resist trying to purse his lips and press kisses to that earnest fingertip. "Don't say sorry."

"Well, I have to say something." Wei Wuxian thinks for a moment. "How about this?" And he whispers something soft and low that makes Lan Zhan look at him with those wonderful, shining eyes.

"And," he adds, "I'm absolutely doing this again tomorrow. Now that I know the consequences."

Lan Zhan kisses him. "Please do."

[nonbinarybrainstorm]

Is the ask box still open? May I ask for Hot Rod/Soundwave content?? Please and Thankyou ❤️❤️

I got your other message not to worry

Some spicy Cyberverse Soundrod coming right up

Additional content: public sex, possessive themes, mild masochism, wall sex

Of course he just had to get a darker paint job. It’s because he’s been through a lot, because he needed a change, Soundwave knows this but can’t help the ideas and connections his processor makes with the black paint and scorching flames glaring in his vision. It’s loud and still undeniably vibrant much like Hot Rod himself but now there’s new context and a deeper meaning. There’s a need, a claim for power that’s so Decepticon but Soundwave knows that he can’t mention that, it’s not what Hot Rod had intended. Even so, it makes Soundwave feel that Hot Rod had somehow become more… obtainable. It’s a ridiculous notion for sure even with the tentative truce that’s formed that he could spend some more time with the Autobot, that he could ask Hot Rod out for fuel, that he could run his hands over his dark plates, that he could push Hot Rod up against a wall… Soundwave shakes his helm and regains focus on the mechs in front of him. Hot Rod had been talking to Bumblebee about something from their past, a race or that’s what they had been talking about when Soundwave had spaced out, ogling Hot Rod’s paint job. Bumblebee leaves, called to another task by comm with only Hot Rod and Soundwave standing in the corridor.

Soundwave tries to think of something to say but Hot Rod beats him to it, “Heh, sorry about that. Didn’t mean to bore you…”

He rubs the back of his helm a little bashfully as though he was actually embarrassed, he probably was. Soundwave knows that his rather… placid body language comes off as unimpressed at best and intimidating at worst but that’s not at all how he wants Hot Rod to feel. A faint buzzing, foreign and insistent, hums in Soundwave’s lines.

“Admittedly racing isn’t one of my own interests.” Soundwave rolls his shoulders and tosses his helm back in an attempt to be casual but it comes off more smug than anything, “However, you seemed to enjoy it. I’m sure it’s different for those with racing frames.”

“Yeah…” Hot Rod looks off to the side, his smile going crooked with amusement then he returns his optics to Soundwave, “So, where were you?” When Soundwave narrows the light of his visor at him, he taps Soundwave’s helm, “I mean what were you thinking about?”

Soundwave catches Hot Rod servo in a gentle but firm grip and moves it from his helm but doesn’t let go.

“Your paint job,” Soundwave admits, not seeing any harm in divulging that much.

This has an unexpected effect on Hot Rod, he tenses and his servo flexes in Soundwave’s and his smile disappears making Soundwave’s spark shift uncomfortably in his chest.

“Is it that bad?” Hot Rod mutters off to the side, “I know it was kind of a dramatic change but I thought it looked cool…”

In a surge of trepidation, Soundwave grabs Hot Rod by the shoulders and steps forward to get closer only to set Hot Rod off balance so he stumbles back into the wall. Hot Rod makes a sound of surprise and grabs Soundwave’s arms to stabilize himself, looking at Soundwave when he’s against the wall. He stalls, staring at that red visor and knowing now, with experience, that Soundwave only has two settings: perfectly calm or completely dramatic that Soundwave doesn’t mean to hurt him. The intensity is still surprising. It’s just a paint job after all, there’s no need to worry too much about it. He could just change it if it looks bad. However, with the way Soundwave’s servos sliding over his armor, passing over his shoulders to settle on his arms, Hot Rod doesn’t think that’s the issue.

“Quite the opposite,” Soundwave assures him in a low tone Hot Rod’s never heard from him before.

Hot Rod swallows to hold back that cheeky smile threatening to break on his face. There was no mistaking the way Soundwave is looking at him now or the way his servos flex now that they’re actually on Hot Rod making a bubble of excitement burst in Hot Rod’s spark. Now that he knows what’s up, there’s no way he was going to let Soundwave off the hook so, he might as well play it up. Hot Rod turns his helm to the side, feigning dejection in a way that exposed his neck cables to Soundwave.

“Come on, it’s okay.” Hot Rod shrugs and smiles coyly, “I know the flames aren’t to everybody’s taste…”

Soundwave leans in closer, taking the bait only to stop short and clear his intake much to Hot Rod’s disappointment.

“I think they suit you,” Soundwave mumbles low, his course voice lowering to a soft growl.

“Glad you think so.” Hot Rod doesn’t hide his cheeky grin this time and pulls Soundwave closer.

Soundwave feels the brush of Hot Rod’s faceplate’s against his and runs his hands unconsciously over Hot Rod’s chest along the flame decals and sucks in air through his vents that’s shockingly cool in comparison to the warm frame under his fingers. Then, he presses his faceplate against Hot Rod’s neck with a static kiss as he trails his hands to Hot Rod’s hips. Hot Rod pulls Soundwave fully against him, pressing them together so he can feel the rapidly increasing pulse of Soundwave’s spark in his own chest. With another sharp invent, Soundwave feels Hot Rod’s cables between his seams and runs a finger over a hot fuel line getting Hot Rod to gasp. It’s such a lovely sound that Soundwave searches for every spot on Hot Rod’s frame that gets him to gasp and moan softly, tugging on seams and pressing his face against the fuel line at Hot Rod’s neck to send energy coursing through his lines. Hot Rod chuckles but it’s quickly cut off with another moan as Soundwave digs into his hips.

“You know if you like my paint job so much…” Hot Rod trails of as Soundwave peppers more static kisses over the plating around his collar then regains his voice, “How about we get some transferred onto you?”

Soundwave stills and pulls back to look at Hot Rod who’s now completely flushed, running hot and panting softly with his hands still rubbing along Hot Rod’s hips, his thumbs catching the edges of Hot Rod’s array. Hot Rod shrugs, his smile faltering as he loses some confidence but that’s quickly remedied by Soundwave hooking his hands under Hot Rod’s thighs and lifting him. With his hips between Hot Rod’s thighs, Soundwave grinds against him, his codpiece catching against Hot Rod’s, the heat between them increasing as charge transfers between them.

Soundwave presses his face against Hot Rod’s audial and growls, “Open for me.”

Hot Rod wraps his legs around Soundwave’s hips and obeys, his spike pressurizing between them and valve cover sliding free. Soundwave grinds against Hot Rod’s spike, the hot, flexible cabling rubbing easily against his pelvic plating, already slick with pre-fluid. Letting himself pressurize, Soundwave grunts as his spike brushes against Hot Rod’s and moans into Hot Rod’s audial as Hot Rod takes both of their spikes in one hand. Soundwave hisses as the ridges of their spikes catch with every thrust as Hot Rod squeezes down harder and harder, his vents going ragged as his cooling fans turn up to full. Gently, he moves Hot Rod’s hand away and shifts their position so his spike is pressed up against Hot Rod’s valve. Hot Rod tugs at Soundwave’s helm and moves him so that their helms are pressed together as Soundwave slides his spike between Hot Rod’s folds. Scratching the paint of Soundwave’s shoulders, Hot Rod drags his fingers down Soundwave’s back as the ridges of his spike catch Hot Rod’s node and tease his entrance. Thick lubricant covers Soundwave’s spike and starts to run down Hot Rod’s thighs.

“I want you inside me already,” Hot Rod pleads, his hips following every pass of Soundwave’s spike, “Take me, claim me.”

Soundwave grunts and grips Hot Rod’s hips in a harsh grip that makes Hot Rod yelp and cling to Soundwave.

“Careful, Hot Rod,” Soundwave growls a low warning in Hot Rod’s audial, “We Decepticons can be rather possessive when given the chance.”

Hot Rod moans and nods, pressing kisses against Soundwave’s helm and says, “Well, maybe sometimes we Autobots like to be possessed.”

Delight floods Soundwave’s spark and he pushes into Hot Rod who pulls in Soundwave as much as he can with his legs, a delightful burn forming in his valve as Soundwave’s spike stretches him open.

“All the way,” Hot Rod moans, “I want you all the way now.”

“I don’t want to hurt-”

Hot Rod cuts him off, “I want it.”

Soundwave hesitates for a moment before hilting himself into Hot Rod fully, groaning at the feeling of Hot Rod’s hot valve around his spike. Hot Rod gasps and moans at the burn his valve that fades away as Shockwave rocks into him, grinding the head of his spike against the entrance to Hot Rod’s gestation tank. When Hot Rod nods, Soundwave thrusts slow and hard into him, his hips rubbing harshly against Hot Rod’s thighs. The thought of having dark, black marks on his blue plating to show everyone what he’d done forms in his mind and drives him to thrust harder into Hot Rod, his valve making obscene noises with every thrusts as their plates scrape roughly against each other. The sharp pain from the scrapes make Hot Rod gasp and he can feel his valve tighten around Soundwave’s spike, every sharp peak of pain mixing with the pleasure and driving Hot Rod closer to the edge. Soundwave had Hot Rod in his hands, his valve around his spike as he made the sweetest sounds pushing Soundwave closer to the edge.

“Hey S- whoa!” a voice stops Soundwave cold and he looks to see Acidstorm in the hall they’re in, frozen in shock.

“Leave,” Soundwave orders, his voice dark with rage and Acidstorm goes racing down the hall.

Hot Rod can feel his spark jump in his chest with fear and embarrassment at the sight of Acidstorm’s retreating form the memory that they’re still in the hallway hitting him like a block of ice. Seeming to not care they were seen, Soundwave starts thrusting into him again hard and Hot Rod nearly forgets everything.

“We should-” Hot Rod gasps and moans as Soundwave presses another static kiss to his neck, “We should go somewhere more private.”

“Any Decepticon that sees us will know better than to interfere,” Soundwave doesn’t slow down as he pants in Hot Rod’s audial, “Any Autobot that sees us will have to deal with me.”

Hot Rod thinks of one of his friends seeing him like this with Soundwave’s spike in him while he’s pinned against a wall and instead of shame he feels his charge build. He shakes it from his processor and focuses on the mech in front of him, looking down to see black streaks on Soundwave’s thighs. Leaning in, he bites Soundwave’s neck, groaning deep in his chest and gasps as hot transfluid floods his valve, spilling into his tank. Soundwave doesn’t slow down, transfluid and lubricant streaming from Hot Rod’s valve until Hot Rod cries out, his hips spasming on Soundwave’s spike as his valve flutters around it, trying to get every bit of transfluid as it can. Hot Rod falls limp in Soundwave’s arms, gasping and panting, and makes a soft noise when he feels himself be removed from the wall and carried down the corridor. In his temporary room, Soundwave sets Hot Rod down on the berth and finally pulls out of him then fetches a cloth to wipe them both down before crawling into the berth alongside Hot Rod.

He pulls Hot Rod into his arms and holds him tightly to his chest, venting in slowly, delighting in how perfectly Hot Rod fits in his arms and places a static kiss against Hot Rod’s helm. A few moments pass and Hot Rod feels recovered enough to stand so he begins to get up only to be pulled back down by Soundwave.

“I told you,” Soundwave whispers, “We Decepticons can be rather possessive when given the opportunity. I don’t just want a quick frag, Hot Rod. I will make you my mate and one of the most revered mechs in the optics of the Decepticons.”

Hot Rod’s optics go wide and he hides his face in Soundwave’s chest, “Isn’t that a bit fast?”

Soundwave hums and rubs Hot Rod’s back to soothe him, “If you don’t want this, you��re welcome to refuse…”

Hot Rod knows Soundwave enough now to detect the inconsistencies in his voice to know at least his general mood and right now he’s upset but Hot Rod knows he means it. He means it but doesn’t want it. Hot Rod snuggles in close to Soundwave and shakes his helm.

“I could try it out…” Hot Rod shrugs, “See how things go.”

Soundwave’s engine turns over so fast it startles Hot Rod but the heavy rumbles of Soundwave’s engine quickly calm him and he smiles to himself as Soundwave clings to him. His smile falters only a little as he rubs his plating over his gestation tank well aware of what might happen now.

[belfrygargoyles]

Hi! I saw your post the other day about reader-inserts and from your points about fetishization, I’m wondering, when does someone’s writing move from a smut fic about a character they are attracted to, to it being fetishization? You mentioned two tropes used very often for Boba fett and din djarin, but are they simply going off of those characters’ traits and personalities while possibly amping them up for the sake of smut or is it just fetishization because the actors happen to be men of color? Sorry if this doesn’t really make sense, I’m just curious on your thoughts!

No it makes sense don't worry!

So, as a white person, in the end it is not my place to decide what is and is not fetishization- I try my best to be mindful of harmful stereotypes and caricatures based off of what I have seen other poc talk about. If I say something is fine, but a fan of color tells you it is harmful, listen to them before me. And also tell me so I can correct my mistake. I'm far from an authority on it.

That being said- and I'm going to put this under a readmore just because it might be mildly nsft and also discuss racist tropes

Just writing smut fic about a man of color on its own isnt fetishization- it's fine to be sexually attracted to someone and it's fine to have fantasies.

What you (and I mean the general "you," not you in specific anon) need to keep in mind though is the history of people of color (and this isn't exclusive to just men of color, but because the subject matter in question is regarding boba and din that will be the focus-) being subject to white sexual fantasies and stereotypes- I.E. brown men being stereotyped as aggressive, extremely sexual, physically imposing and dominating, often in contrast to a "delicate, sexually pure" white woman, the "spicy latino lover" stereotype, and the ways these have also historically been used to racially profile and convict men of color of sexual assault or harassment against white women who were simply made uncomfortable by the presence of a man with a different skin color.

Since we're talking about fictional characters, yes, there is a degree to which some traits might just be part of the character (and keep in mind that Star Wars canon also has a history of pretty egregious racism anyways-), but as a writer it is also on you to decide what kind of focus you put on these traits.

And this being said-

It becomes fetishization when these are the only traits authors focus on- yes, Boba Fett is highly skilled and sure of himself, he doesn't carry himself like someone who second-guesses his actions, and to many people, this commands respect. But Is he dominant? Is he aggressive? The single time he uses a term of "endearment," it is specifically to mock Bo-Katan, who just insulted his relationship with his heritage and Jango's memory completely off-base.

In many of the fics I see, Boba is only there to serve as a sexual object to dole out the role of the dominant party- there is none of his character in it, there is little substance that actually tells me 'okay, yeah, this author was writing about Boba Fett' rather than a preconstructed sexual fantasy they slapped his name on. Furthermore, over half of all fics in the Boba Fett/Reader tag were Explicit, and most of them include tags referencing rough sex, a submissive female reader, and some kind of power dynamic in which Boba holds power over the reader as employer, hunter/bounty, dom/sub, or a considerable age gap. They are not written as though the author really thinks that is what his character would do, but instead read like the author had a role already in mind that they adapted to him.

(And this point is relatively small, but it stands out to me- the use of Mando'a. I see it peppered in both Boba's and Din's dialogues in fics all the time, regardless of the probability that either of them would be fluent in it- it personally comes across to me the same way fics with a hispanic character will just add random spanish into their dialogue, which smacks of an author hyping up the "exotic" factor of another culture)

Din gets a similar treatment, just of a slightly different flavor. Again, they read like the author already had a premade scenario in their head and just wrote Din to fit, regardless of how in-character it would actually be, and snipped down his character to fit their idea of a dominant man.

And look, it's possible to write an explicit D/S fic with a dominant character of color without it being a racist stereotype or fetishizing. But you actually need to pay attention to the character and your own subconscious biases the whole way through.

[kurowrites]

I’ll See You Soon - Part II

Part II to this prompt. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

---

Wei Ying was on his way to the little takeaway that Lan Zhan had suggested they try out, and Wei Ying was nervous. They hadn’t seen each other since the wedding banquet, but they had started to message each other pretty frequently ever since then. Wei Ying had learned several things about Lan Zhan during these conversations: That Lan Zhan was extremely smart, rather taciturn, but also funny and fun to talk to once Wei Ying actually managed to make him talk.

Wei Ying was most definitely developing a crush. Had developed a crush. He didn’t even know. He had only met the guy once. But be that as it may, they were meeting today, and he was hoping to convince Lan Zhan that he wanted to meet Wei Ying again. So, Wei Ying had to be on his best behaviour today, and as he knew himself, he would inevitably fuck it up. But he wanted to make a good impression so badly. God, he wanted Lan Zhan to like him.

It was very easy to spot Lan Zhan, sticking out from the general masses as the only tall figure dressed in all-white with a long, thick braid falling down his back. He looked even better here, away from the oppressively opulent hall they had sat in for hours, among the red brick buildings of the university, surrounded by flowering hedges and trees.

“Lan Zhan!” he called out before he could stop himself, and skipped over to where Lan Zhan was standing as he turned around. “Sorry, I made you wait!”

“No,” Lan Zhan said. “I just arrived here myself.”

Then, after a short break, “Wei Ying.”

Wei Ying smiled at the mention of his name. Ah, he really liked Lan Zhan calling him by his name!

“So, Lan Zhan,” he said playfully. “Please guide me today. I’m sure you know all the best foods here.”

Lan Zhan nodded and led them a few steps further to the takeaway. The shop wasn’t extremely busy since they had opted for a late lunch, but it still had a steady stream of customers placing and picking up their orders. Lan Zhan pointed towards the menu hung up above the counter and recommended a few dishes he personally liked.

“If it is Wei Ying, he will like this one,” he said as he pointed towards a dish called Kadai Paneer on the list. “Spicy.”

Wei Ying laughed, a little embarrassed. “Was I that obvious at the wedding? But yes, you have guessed correctly, I like spicy things. I’ll take that one.”

Lan Zhan went to the cashier and ordered for them both, even asking to make Wei Ying’s dish extra spicy. When Wei Ying was getting ready to pay, Lan Zhan gently pushed his wallet back into Wei Ying’s bag, looking severe.

“It was my invitation. I will pay.”

“Lan Zhan, no!”

“I will pay.”

Wei Ying pouted at him, but Lan Zhan ignored him in favour of completing the transaction with the cashier. Well. He wasn’t going to complain about a handsome man paying for his food, no sir.

Before long, they were handed their food containers and carried them outside to secure one of the wobbly tables that had been placed under one of the large trees just next to the takeaway.

“Thank you for the food,” Wei Ying said as he opened his container with Kadai Paneer. It smelled heavenly. “I didn’t accept your invitation to mooch.”

“I know,” Lan Zhan simply replied.

They ate in silence for a little while, mostly busy with enjoying the food. Lan Zhan had been entirely right. The sauce was rich and spicy, and the paneer and bell peppers were a delightful contrast. He loved the food and told Lan Zhan as much.

Lan Zhan almost seemed to smile at Wei Ying’s enthusiasm.

“I come here often,” he told Wei Ying. “They change the menu regularly, so there is variation, too.”

“Hehe, nice,” Wei Ying smiled. “I might join you more often, in that case.”

He stole a sly look at Lan Zhan, and was almost sure that Lan Zhan blushed the tiniest little bit.

Wei Ying’s heart soared.

---

It didn’t take them long to start having lunch together regularly, slowly making their way around different takeaways and cheap but delicious little restaurants close to the campus. Wei Ying enjoyed all the meals, and he enjoyed Lan Zhan’s company, but he also couldn’t help but notice that Lan Zhan never allowed him to pay for a meal. Not one single time. Lan Zhan always found a moment of distraction or a threadbare excuse to pay, and while Wei Ying thought Lan Zhan’s insistence on paying was pretty cute, he was also getting rather frustrated.

“Lan Zhan,” he said one day as they both ate a lentil curry (Wei Ying’s spicy and red, Lan Zhan’s sweeter with a delicious taste of coconut). “If you keep feeding me all the time, it’s almost like you’re dating me.”

Lan Zhan blushed bright red without warning. There was absolutely no mistaking it this time. He was blushing, and it was the cutest thing Wei Ying had ever seen.

In disbelief, Wei Ying dropped his spoon into his curry. He stared at Lan Zhan, who was studiously avoiding Wei Ying’s gaze, studying his own curry with single-minded focus. Could it be that–

He slowly reached out for Lan Zhan’s hand, lying on the table between the two of them. He felt a smile spread over his face when he touched Lan Zhan’s fingers; the fingers opened up to make room for Wei Ying’s hand, closing gently around it, holding it without hesitation.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying teased, once he found his voice. “Have you been stealth-dating me?”

He laughed happily when Lan Zhan only blushed harder. Overwhelmed by a feeling of tenderness in his heart, he squeezed Lan Zhan’s hand.

“You know you could have just asked, right?”

Despite the fact that he was holding Wei Ying’s hand, Lan Zhan kept stubbornly staring at his curry, refusing to look up. “I couldn’t be sure you were interested in someone like me.”

“Someone like you?” Wei Ying asked, incredulous. “What? A perfect gentleman? One of the most handsome, intelligent men I have ever met? At the banquet I was just waiting for the chance to get to talk to you! You were the one who would barely look at me!”

“You,” Lan Zhan cleared his throat. “You looked very handsome in your suit.”

Wei Ying gasped, but he couldn’t help but laugh at the same time. “Lan Zhan! Are you saying you were shy? That I was too handsome to talk to??”

He was teasing, but he also squeezed Lan Zhan’s hand in reassurance as he did so. He didn’t want Lan Zhan to feel bad about it. No but– he couldn’t wrap his mind around Lan Zhan liking Wei Ying in a suit and then being too shy to do something about it. It was cute. It was adorable. It was frustrating.

“You should tell me such things, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying continued. “If you tell me, I can wear a suit whenever you want me to.”

“Not necessary,” Lan Zhan replied. He finally found the courage to look up and meet Wei Ying’s eyes. “Wei Ying is always handsome, no matter what he wears.”

Now it was Wei Ying’s turn to blush.

“Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan squeezed Wei Ying’s hand tighter.

“I am serious,” he said, and Wei Ying had no doubt that he was. That was the worst part.

After a few more moments of holding Wei Ying’s hand and stroking it gently with his thumb, Lan Zhan finally let go of it. He then returned to eating his curry without another word.

Wei Ying looked at him in confusion, waiting for Lan Zhan to say something until he couldn’t bear it any longer.

“You’re not going to ask me out?”

Lan Zhan shot him a look from the corner of his eyes.

“Not while eating,” he replied. “After we have finished.”

Wei Ying laughed and shook his head. “That’s so you! Incredible.”

He reached for his spoon, and finished his meal quicker than anything he had eaten in a long time, all thoughts of spices and good taste forgotten.  

[wedreamerz]

Ravenous

Written for @mcukinkbingo

Square Filled: Hickies

Pairing: Tony/Loki

Alt Universe in which Loki showed up at the final battle with Thanos to save the day.  This is several years after the battle.

Rating: E

Mainly smut with mention of past angst and loss. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I fail to understand your fascination, Anthony.  They are only bruises.”

Tony rolled his eyes and straddled Loki’s hips, earning him a lusty groan from the god beneath him.

“What lovely noises you make,” Tony said and nibbled along his jawline.

Loki chuckled.  “Do you wish for me to eat you up like the wolf in that fairy tale Morgan insists you retell every night?”

Tony smiled at the memory, no more than a half-hour prior, retelling the tale of The Big Bad Wolf.

"I don't know, you are rather tasty.  Maybe I should eat you," he growled in the voice he always used for the wolf and bent to suck open-mouthed kisses down Loki’s neck, gently at first, wet and enticing.  But when Loki rolled his hips, pressing their cocks together, giving Tony that little bit of that divine friction, he bit down and sucked a mark onto Loki’s pale skin.

"Anthony," Loki breathed.  He pushed long fingers into Tony's hair, grey now.  He had stopped coloring it at Loki's request, but he wasn’t sure how long that would last.

“I like seeing my marks on you in the morning,” Tony said.  “And don’t think I don’t notice the way you look at them in the mir-”

Loki chuckled and cut Tony off with a kiss.  But Tony didn’t mind the distraction.  He loved to get lost in Loki's kisses, the warm, sweet slide of their tongues, the sharp, needy little nibbles that let Tony know his very own personal god was done playing around.  

Loki stood and lifted Tony as though he weighed nothing.

"I want you by the fire," he purred, laying Tony down on the plush rug before the fireplace.

Tony started to argue but Loki shook his head as he knelt between Tony's parted thighs.

"You needn't worry. I've enchanted her door. She will hear nothing and we will be well warned should she wake up."

Tony smirked.  He should have known.  Loki adored Morgan like she was his own.  He’d been a balm to Morgan's broken heart when Pepper died a year after the final battle with Thanos.

Loki touched his hand, the mangled one, the one he would have lost had Loki not been there during that battle.  Tony looked up to meet his gaze and smiled.  It had been his own mistake that brought Loki to him - the lost Tesseract.  It was the best mistake he’d ever made.

“Are you here with me now, Anthony?" Loki asked in that careful tone he used when Pepper's ghost crossed Tony’s face.  Loki blamed himself.  He’d tried to save her.  But it turned out even Loki’s considerable powers couldn’t cure cancer. 

“I’m here,” he said, reaching for Loki, pulling him into his arms.  He buried his face in Loki’s hair, breathed in the scent of his shampoo - spicy, sweet, and exotic.  He still wore it long but let it fall in soft curls around his face now instead of slicking it back.  “I’m always here with you, Mr. Shakespeare.”

Loki chuckled at the nickname Tony had given him when he’d developed a taste for The Bard’s works as he’d poured through Earth’s literary wonders.  Tony chuckled too, remembering the way he’d rolled his eyes and continued through his fourth reading of Henry V.

“Shall I quote you love poems? Prose?” Loki purred, and with the twitch of his finger, Tony’s clothes were gone.  The flames in the fireplace flared, reflected in the bright green of Loki’s eyes, turning them an intoxicating shade of copper for just a moment. 

“Pistol’s cock is up and flashing fire will follow.”  

Loki smoothed his hands up Tony’s thighs to where he was already hard and wanting.  With one long finger, he traced Tony’s length and smirked when it twitched beneath his touch.  He bent to kiss him - tiny warm presses of his lips from base to tip that left Tony breathless.

“Loki,” Tony whispered.

“Flesh stays no further reason. But stays rising at thy name,” Loki quoted, holding Tony’s gaze as he licked the same trail his kisses had blazed.  

Tony loved to watch Loki suck his cock.  His expression was so open, so full of love and desire.  Tony bent his good arm behind his head so that he would have a better view.  That’s when he saw mischief in Loki’s eyes and knew he was in for a treat. 

“But nay,” Loki said.  “Me thinks the Man of Iron prefers a more primitive tale this night.”  He nibbled around the flared ridges of Tony's cock head and swirled his tongue around the tip. 

“Not a children's tale; but a tale of wanton greed and excess. A wolf in the guise of a handsome prince, laying in wait for the beautiful man cloaked all in scarlet - waiting and eager to eat him whole."

Tony listened, enraptured as always at the way Loki wove his spell.  He pulled Tony in with his words and the gentle teasing of his mouth.  Through slitted eyes he watched Loki lap up the length of his cock and then take the head between his spit-slick lips.  Tony groaned when Loki swallowed him, pressed his nose into the well manicured hair at the base of his cock.

"Loki," Tony panted and pressed his hips forward, needing more - deeper, faster, harder.  Loki moaned around his cock and urged him on.

Fuck my throat, Anthony. Let me feel your cock throb as you cum.

Loki spoke into his mind, feeding him images and thoughts of how it felt when Tony fisted his hair and pumped his hips. He saw his own face through Loki's eyes, head thrown back, mouth open as he cried out and emptied himself down Loki's throat.

Tony floated, electrified and numb and yet somehow feeling everything, the chafe of the rug, the warmth of the fire.

"Roll over, Darling Red. I wish to have you on your knees."

Tony tried to comply, eager for more but blissfully boneless.  With a chuckle, Loki helped him into position, slipping a pillow under him for Tony to hold onto.  Tony closed his eyes and stretched.

Warm, wet and luscious, Loki tongued open his asshole until Tony was hard again.  He rolled his hips and moaned when he felt Loki's cock at his entrance.

"Come on, Wolfie," Tony murmured after turning his head to the side.  "My...what a big cock- oh...fuck."

"That is the general idea, Love," Loki purred, balls deep in Tony's ass, waiting for the signal that he was ready for more.

Tony smiled and enjoyed the fullness, the complete joy of his submission to Loki in that moment.  Tony knew how difficult it was to wait, how much Loki longed to take him. But he held them there on the precipice for just a moment longer before pressing back in invitation.

Like a caged animal finally free of its confines, Loki growled and snapped his hips.  He pushed Tony's face into the pillow with one splayed hand and set a brutal pace.

Tony moaned, relishing each thrust, the press of Loki's fingers into his hip and back.

"My Darling, Red," Loki said with a chuckle Tony could feel as the god leaned forward to drape across his back.  Loki kissed tenderly  his shoulder, such a contradiction to the way he used Tony's ass. "Would you like to come again?"

"Yes," Tony panted, meeting each of Loki's thrusts With the wet slap of skin on skin.

"Then turn around and let me see your face. Let me feel your cock twitch against my stomach.”

Loki pulled out, and Tony moaned the loss.

 "I know, Pet. I know. On your back now and I will fill you again.”

 Tony rolled over and pulled Loki into his greedy arms.  He sighed when Loki did as he promised.

"That's it, Darling, so needy, so tight." 

Loki buried his face in the crook of Tony's neck and moaned before biting, sucking the flesh between his teeth.  Tony moaned and rocked his hip, rutting shamelessly against Loki's hard stomach in time with each quick snap of hips.

"Come for me, Love," Loki whispered and like one of those famous dogs, Tony obeyed.  With a feral growl, Loki came a moment later, pumping into Tony's ass.

Warm and content, Tony drifted.

Loki must have carried him at some point; because the next time he opened his eyes they were in bed, snuggled under layers of blankets and entwined.  He closed his eyes again and sighed into Loki's chest with a smile.

Pale sun shone through the window when Tony woke up.  He rolled over to find Loki's side of the bed empty but still warm.  He moved into the space and filled his lungs with the scent of their lovemaking then heard the shower in the bathroom turn on.

Tony smiled.  He was sore.  He had barely moved and he could tell that.  But the thought of a shower warm Loki, smelling clean and all slippery with soap made Tony throw back the covers and pad into the bathroom.

Tony went to the sink to brush his teeth and smiled when Loki began humming a tune he didn't recognize.  But it was sweet and happy, a clear indicator that he had pleased his God well.  Tony smirked at his reflection and saw the bruises - Loki's marks from the night before.  He pressed on them and groaned as his cock hardened.  Memories from the right before manifested into reality.

He palmed himself, just a few strokes.  He squeezed the tip of his cock and closed his eyes, fingers straying to the bruises on his neck.  He pressed down again and stifled a moan.

Loki's marks. Loki's bites.

Tony startled as the thoughts were pushed into his mind. He looked to the mirror to find Loki staring at him from the open shower door.

Mine.

"I believe I am beginning to understand," Loki said with a smirk.

Tony's gaze wandered Loki's pale skin and found his own marks along his collarbone.  He smiled.

"Come here, Red," Loki purred.  "I find I am once again...ravenous."

[vixlenxe]

@a-certain-genesis-order​ | @a-certain-academy-city​ Unprompted SPICE based on this.

It was just another day in Academy City, the city so much different from the Victorian home Violet once knew. And like nearly everyday now, the brunette super human was returning to the Board Chairman’s building, a two cans of black coffee in hand. 

Yes, she was getting back from another on of those coffee runs. The things she’s willing to do from that skinny chairmen can go down to even the dumbest of tasks.

Though, on her way back up to the floor where the albino's office was, walking passed a few other people, someone reached out to get her attention.

“Excuse me, your Miss Violet, aren’t you?”

“... Yeah?” An eyebrow goes up on Violet’s head. This was a little weird, people usually have a hard time going right up to her & speaking with her directly given a lot of people around here are frightened by her. Then again, maybe this guy is new, she doesn’t recognize his face as one she’s seen before.

“Ah... well. I accidentally order an extra burger for my lunch today, do you want it by chance? I heard from around the building your someone who likes food.”

The strange employee seemed to then pull the before mentioned meal from his little desk, with only made Violet’s confusion rise. Lot’s of different things going through her head. This was either some newbie guy, trying to get in good with a high-up, or something was done to the burger; like it was drugged or tasted like shit.

“... Uhhh....” When she thought about it in her head, if it was drugged, there were more then enough people around her to make sure nothing crazy or fucked up happened to her. If it just tasted weird, well, then the results would be her emptying one of the coffee cans she has down the bastard’s shirt as repayment. So... why the hell not?

“Eh... fuck it. Sure.”

With a shrug, she just took the burger that the employee offered & took a bite, & as soon as she did, she saw the young worker’s face twist into a grin. Violet was staring down at him, likely waiting for the taste of something horrible to hit her... & waited... & waited... & waited.

“The hell?” Finally the employee's face went from a grin, to confusion, seeing as nothing ever happened to Violet, & her expression didn’t chance at all from taking a bite of that burger. “Why aren’t you reacting at all?”

“... SO, what did you put in it?” Violet’s response came with a grin. Yeah, she knew something had been done to that burger, only question now was what? And why didn’t it effect her?

“I put... jalapenos on it, you should be freaking out from the spices in it right about now.”

Again, the brunette's eyebrow goes up, as she starts to remove the bun of the meal, & look through it for the peppers the employee mentioned. And sure enough, they were there, hiding underneath the lettuce, where two cooked jalapeno peppers. And seeing this, Violet just laughed.

“I can’t be burned by something that isn’t hotter then me.”

That response made the worker’s face flare up in a embarrassed crimson color, while Violet just broke down into laughter more in front of the poor guy.

“No, but really, I once drank a bottle of hot sauce by mistake, thinking it was a weird drink, that’s the day I discovered hot sauce & became basically immune to anything that’s underneath a ghost pepper. Nice try trying to punk me like that, but if you do it again, I’ll kick your ass, alright? And thanks for the burger.”

A smile now on her face, Violet headed back to what she was doing before, returning back to the boss man’s office, while the young dumb-fuck worker was only left the slump back in his chair. Somehow, now knowing that the Broad Chairman’s assistant was almost immune to spicy things, made her even more terrifying now.

[maskydoo-old]

Gas Gas Gas

Way back when I was a wee little private in basic training, I had a few gripes. Ok. A lot of gripes.

Griping is just what soldiers do – it’s our favorite pastime. What else are we going to do, actually read the Army manuals? What for?

To learn the words the Army Song? Pssh! Like I’ll ever need to know that!

Training is hard. It’s supposed to be. So embrace the suck. If it was easy, everyone could do it.

It wasn’t all bad. I genuinely had a lot of good times in the army, even in basic training. Sometimes the training was fun, and found things I was surprisingly good at.

I knew it would be hard, but I was young and invincible and I could do anything. 

So I was ready for the shouting, the challenges, the pushups – all that. Bring it on.

But the gas. The gas.

The recruiters never said anything about tear gas.

Just forgot to mention that one, did you SSG Nett. Left that one out of the recruitment brochure. Join the Army, set your lungs on fire.

The gas was the absolute worst experience, in basic, in the Army, and probably in my entire life.

Not so tough anymore when the gas hits.

I don’t care what a big, strong, stoic soldier you are. Doesn’t matter. You’re gunna cry, GI Joe.

Zero out of ten. Would not breathe CS gas again.

CS gas, that’s … this.

(text: orto-chlorobenzylidene-malononitrile /  2-chlorobenzalmalononitrile )

The drill sergeants never called it by these names. They always just called it CS. Probably they assumed we wouldn’t be able to pronounce these words. Well HA! Jokes on them. I’ve been practicing, and-

They’re right.

CS gas is a riot control agent. A tear gas. And, according to the internet, it’s really an aerosolized powder.

The more you know.

Imma keep calling gas anyway.

If you’ve never been exposed to tear gas, maybe you think all it does is irritate people’s eyes a bit and make them cry, like someone managed to weaponize the feeling of chopping onions.  

I mean yeah, the gas will do that, but it’s so, so much worse.

Day whatever of basic,

I don’t know, it all blurs together,

Aint like I kept a diary like some kind of pioneer on the Oregon trail, days away from dying of dysentery.

The drill sergeants issued us all these enormous green pouches. Inside, some ancient gas masks that look like they’re in even worse shape than my rifle, which by the way was held together with wire where a takedown pin should have been.

The upper and lower receivers were not on speaking terms. Rattled like a… well, a rattle.

And like my rifle, we were taught to take masks apart and put them back together. Some are missing pieces.

Like my rifle.

Drill Sergeant: “GAS! GAS! GAS!”

This is the command to put you mask on.

Drill Sergeant: “Gas! Gas! Gas!”

Pretty straight forward as far as commands go. Nothing left to interpretation there.

Also, there’s gesture signal. Shoulder touching. Like this. Looks goofy.

We drilled putting on those masks quick, because when their air is poison, you’d better be fast or you’re going to have a bad time.

Speaking of bad times, next we ran laps. You do a lot of running in basic, and it’s death. I hate running even on a good day. I can do pushups all day long, but cardio can pound sand. Running laps with a facehugger doesn’t improve the experience.   

The purpose of this is to prove that yes, you can in fact breathe in these things, so just quit whinging and do it, Drill Sergeants have no time for your claustrophobia nonsense.

That wasn’t a problem for me. The heat was. Running laps in Missouri, in the summer heat, with my face covered material designed specifically NOT to let air flow.

Well the good news is you don’t have worry about breathing poison if you can drown yourself in your own sweat first.

All of this was in preparation for the gas chamber.

The gas chamber was a tiny one-room building full of that nasty CS gas that we would all have to spend some time in, as a required part of training in the US military. Why?

To instill confidence in your equipment to protect you, we’re told.

Yeah… about that…

(gas mask falls apart)

We get marched into the woods, to this run down looking shack, where we would get locked in.

This sounds like a setup for a horror movie.

The room is already filled with gas. They make sure it’s nice and thick before they send us in. When we were lined up outside, masks on, I could already smell pepper. Trying to clear my mask was not working.

Not feeling super confident in my equipment right now.

So we file in, and to prove to us that our masks can protect us from the gas, what do they do?

They have us take our masks off. Immediately.

What?! How are our masks supposed to protect us if we just take them off as soon as we’re inside? I don’t know. Training people to remove their masks and just stand around when exposed to gas doesn’t seem like a great idea…

You can’t hold it forever, eventually, you have to breathe. And holy heck that is some SPICY air!

I’ve been told that CS gas works by reacting to your mucous membranes, which I basically just took this to mean anything moist will burn.

This is when I became literally painfully aware of what it means to be a lifeform made mostly of water. I regretted every drop.

Just a scratching in your throat at first, makes you cough. Then it burns. Your throat. Your nostrils. Your eyes.

Now you’re crying. Not so tough now, are ya? The tears fall and the trail burns down your face.

All your exposed skin burns more as you sweat – and if you weren’t sweating before, you are now.

Your mouth burns. Down your lungs. It even reaches your stomach. You realize a lot more of your body was exposed to the outside environment than you’re comfortable thinking of that way. And it’s all on fire.

You hack, you cough, you gasp, you cry, you snot, you drool, you puke. You’re not pretty.

Did you know CS gas use in war is prohibited by the Chemical Weapons Convention? We literally wouldn’t use this stuff on our enemies.

The trick to making the gas chamber not so bad is to remain calm, but that’s difficult to do when you feel like you’re actually melting.

Your bodys like WTF?! Alert! Alert!

Your sympathetic nervous system kicks in – you freak out. Your heart races, your breathing quickens – or tries to, and you sweat more, all of it makes the reaction so much worse.

30 seconds in, I thought I was gunna die. A minute in, I wished I would.

I think we were there for at least five. It could have been ten. Felt like an eternity. Like a preview of hell.

We weren’t allowed to leave or put our masks back on. So there we are, just choking and coughing for as long as it amused the drill sergeant.

And he was in no hurry. He was in full MOP gear, and presumably his mask was one that actually worked.

The Drill Sergeant is completely indifferent to everyone’s suffering. He walked up and down the line holding a plate to shove at everyone, like a pusher church user with a collection plate. But you couldn’t pay this guy not to waft some fresh-ly made, concentrated CS directly at your face.

But we’re not left to our misery, no. The Drill Sergeant has tasks for us.

He was doing everything he could to make the reaction as bad as possible. He wanted us breathing hard, getting our heart rates up, and sweating. And Drill Sergeants know just how to do that.

Pushups, cardio, shouting.  All things the Army loves. All things that require breathing.

But the worst was yet to come.

Y’all, I made a huge mistake not reading the entire Army manual. The task we had to complete, without making a mistake, in order to escape this horrible room was to scream-sing the Army Song.

I didn’t know the words. No one knew the full song. At most, a few of us knew some parts of it – but no one bothered to memorize the whole thing. And the Drill Sergenat was not about to help us at all.

It took us all soooo many agonizing tries to get it right. But enough of us knew enough bits and pieces to eventually piece it all together, after many, many tries.

All: “First to fight for the right… (trails off)

One Private: “And to build the nation’s might!”

Drill Sergeant: “Start again!”

All (wheeze) “March along sing our song *cough cough*

Drill Sergeant: “Louder! Start over!”

All: (Anguished wail)

This singing portion went on for a long time, and not because it was music to anyone’s ears. The patriotic tune as covered by the wails of the damned wasn’t going to make top 40, but there’s no accounting for schadenfreude for the drill sergeant. He seemed entertained.

And… as much as I hated his guts in that moment…. I get it. I totally get it.

If there was a version of American Idol, like, insane edition, where contestants had to sing their hearts out while Simon Cowell pepper sprayed them in the face…

I’d watch that.

I did not know the Army Song going in, but I sure as heck knew it by heart by the time we left.

It turns out you can learn pretty fast when it feels like your life depends on it. Still, doubt,  gas chambers will catch on as a study aid.

Teacher: “What’s the quadratic equation?”

Students: “

Side note: The Army Song doesn’t hold a candle to the Marine Corps Song. Yeah, I’m a traitor and I don’t care. Don’t at me.

So remind me again, what was supposed to be the purpose this training? Between all this singing, exercising, and not mask wearing, I forgot.

“To instill confidence in our equipment.” You know, the equipment we were not using in the one exact situation it was designed for. What does screaming the Army Song and working out in a gas chamber, puking my lungs out, demonstrate about a mask that we are not even wearing?

----

(Cut to an airplane)

Skydiving instructor: “Alright everyone, I want you all to feel confident in your equipment to protect you. So today you’re all jumping… without your parachutes.”

Jumper: Uh… it’s Ok, I trust the parachute.

Skydiving instructor: (Tosses someone) “Out you go.”

I think the methodology of this experiment is flawed, the test doesn’t do anything to support your conclusion.

I think the real reason they didn’t let us wear the masks at all was just keep us from realizing these old things have been used for every basic training company to come through probably since Nam and really don’t work.

I’m sure the newer ones fielded to the real army work just fine, but no one is shelling out that kind of dough for a bunch of newbie kids in basic. We just get the hand-me-downs..

We take them off so we don’t get the change to lose confidence in our gear.

That, or it’s just plain hazing.

Probably both.

Finally it was time to leave. We were half blind but could see daylight enough to rush for it. And if we’re not careful, rush right into a drill sergeant waiting in ambush, just standing there evidently in hopes of a collision as an excuse to shout at us some more.

In other places, I’m told this drill sergeant is a replaced by a sturdy pole, there for no other reason than to be in the way.

By the time we finally leave, we’re a mess. We’re crying, we’ve got drool and snot hanging down our faces all the way to the ground, which we’re not allowed to wipe away. We have to keep our heads down while flapping our arms to air out our uniforms, while hacking and coughing and puking all the way out.

We looked like ostriches with a plague.

And you’ll get to have that look remembered forever. There was a sneaky photographer dude I’d sometimes see following the company around, taking shots for the class yearbook and… I guess Army publicity.

He won’t get that sweet action shot of you scaling a wall, or crawling under some razor wire on the night assault course, or when you stab a dummy right in the chest with your bayonette, looking like a total bad one.

But he’ll totally make sure to capture your ugly-crying gross booger face for your siblings to laugh at when your family buy your class yearbook on graduation you’re your grandma will frame the photo and hang it on the wall, telling proudly telling everyone in her book club “that’s my granddaughter.”

And your teachers will use it to threaten their students with “This is the face of someone who didn’t complete their homework on time. This could be you if you don’t get your grades up. Get a scholarship or you’re joining the military.”

Ah yes, this is the face I want to show the world. That dangling snot rope really brings out the agony in my eyes. Gunna put that right on my Tinder profile. Yep.

(If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best.)

Wikipedia suggests several methods for treating victims of CS gas exposure. Our post exposure treatment was - nothing.

Yeah. We got nothing. Just sat around in a field and waited for the effects to wear off and for life to suck slightly less.

And that’s the funny thing about it. Just a short while before, I was having probably the worst 5 minutes of my life up that point, but as soon as it was done, it was done. I felt fine.

Actually, I felt a little better than I did that morning, and not just out of a new appreciation for fresh air.

Stick 60 people from all over the country in one sleeping bay, in an environment where no matter how hard you try hygiene is never great, and then there’s that donkeyface who stands behind me in formation coughing directly at the back of my head, and sicknesses tend to get around.

Me: “Cough in my hair one more time, and I will jam this patrol cap right down your throat to feed back you your own germs.“

I don’t think many people make it through the first weeks of basic without catching some kind of bug.

One lady in our platoon even managed to catch a staph infection, like, the first week. I dunno how. Eventually, she got sent home, and I got to take her rifle, which wasn’t much better than my original one, but at least was not held together by a bit of bent wire.

Anyway, if there’s anything good that can be said for CS, it really works wonders to clear the sinuses. I was breathing better after the gas chamber than before I went in. Everything that was stuffing me up was gone.

Gotta find that silver lining somewhere.

And in this case it’s a snot lining, and you’ll find it coating the gas chamber floor.   

Me: (reading my own script.) “Ew.”

-Infomercial-

Sinus congestion got you feeling down? Don’t have time to wait around for normal medicine to kick in?

Not to worry, the US Military has the solution for you! Formally declare war on enemy boogies with CS gas! 9 out of 10 riot control teams agree, CS is the number 1 choice to make all your troubles panic and scatter in terror. Just pop one CS gas capsule and it works instantly, scientifically proven to make the sniffles the least of your problems.

Mission accomplished!”

Side-effects include:

Burning sensation in eyes, skin, mouth, and internal organs, coughing, wheezing, watery eyes, difficulty breathing, difficulty speaking, sweating, thoughts of revenge against your recruiter, elevated heartrate, snot rockets, drooling absolutely everywhere, vomiting, making this face, secondary gassing of yourself and others later when puff of CS come off your clothing, pain – like - lots of it, and regret.

Harness the power of chemical weapons today! Ask your doctor is CS gas is right for you and your entire neighborhood!

Not approved by the Geneva conventions.

[spirithunterscenarios]

Concept: Ai and Shou participating in a challenge to eat spicy foods. With a concerned Yashiki... And a sort of probably OOC Mashita. Sorry, it's late and he was a last minute addition. I should've been sleeping when I decided to finish this and my phone is almost dead. Was originally gonna post to my personal but it was already in my drafts here and mobile is awful. I may do an edit later if I notice big mistakes.

Credits to @ktsumagari and the anon who mentioned them eating a bunch of spicy food. Thank you and sorry once again if it isn't the best. I was just trying to have fun with it and calling it practice since I haven't officially written fanfiction in forever.

'This is insane,' I thought to myself as I watched the two young adults who were currently tearing through the different varieties of the spiciest foods they could find at the nearest convenience store. The poor staff there already seemed to think I was some sort of ghost... I imagine them watching two teens shoveling through all the spicy food was an experience as well. I sighed, rubbing my temples as I continued watching them in hopes that they might just call it quits.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for at least a good 15 minutes... How did they get so much food in one trip?

It had honestly started out just fine, no real need for concern considering they were just eating snack foods. And then it turned into them actually pulling out the different varieties of spicy ramen they had found. I don't know how many bowls the two had eaten at this point, but it was concerning every time they added new ingredients or had some sort of little dish on the side. Ai didn't seem to have any signs of stopping despite her flushed complexion, but when I looked at Shou...

The kid looked like he was ready for death to take him already. His face was completely red and he was sweating profusely and... I don't know if I'd heard right but I could've sworn I heard a small whimper. He was on his last leg but still going.

"They're going to kill themselves," a voice said beside me. It was Mashita. Due to the fact that I'd spaced out watching, I had forgotten he had dropped by to have some coffee earlier before the two had burst in. "Didn't she say she had a secret weapon in mind for the last challenge?"

My face must've paled because Mashita was giving me a look of concern. Maybe he was right, they really were going to end up feeling sick... Or worse! My anxiety increased the moment I heard Ai place her chopsticks down. "Ready for the next round, Shou?" Her voice didn't even strain as she laughed almost triumphantly as the boy in question chugged down the broth from his bowl.

"Yeah! Ain't no way I'm losin' this one!" He was grinning as he placed the bowl down despite the sweat seemingly pouring from his face. Evidently, he didn't know how much of a mess he looked like. "Bring on the real challenge!"

Bold words from someone who looked like he was going to drop any moment. He didn't like the impish look on Ai's face either. What was she going to do?

Almost as if reading my mind, Ai suddenly pulled two peppers from seemingly nowhere and held them up. "Each one of us gets one! This is the REAL deal! We're adding it to the next bowl of the spiciest instant noodles ever!"

Sure, that sounded like a serious exaggeration but I couldn't shake the anxious feeling deep down as I watched them head off to the kitchen. Why did that pepper seem so ominous? Should I really worry about it or let them be...? It wasn't until I noticed my company stiffen as he gripped my shoulder.

"Yashiki, those are ghost peppers." He hissed as he looked to the kitchen, following the two with his eyes before looking into mine before continuing to speak. "I don't want to take two idiots to the emergency room!"

Neither did I, to be honest... I might not go as far to say "idiots", but he was right. "Tag team to sneak in there and get it out?"

"Got it, but you're the distraction."

I sighed, "Right..."

It was easy enough getting into the kitchen, the dining room was basically a small stride away from it. It was just initiating the plan to acquire the pepper. I had to think carefully as I looked in. Looks like Ai was still reading the pack while Shou was starting up the stove so I had enough time to come up to them while Mashita carefully strode in with our coffee cups. Luckily, the coffee maker was nearby the peppers on the counter so while I started my conversation he had already made his way over.

"So, what is this ramen called? I don't think I've had it before..." I recognized the package from my own grocery trips, but I usually got the cheapest meals I could. Better than wasting money on something I might not like, I suppose. I liked spicy, but burning my mouth and stomach didn't exactly sound all that tasty to me. "Is it really that bad?"

Ai piped up ather quickly. "Oh yeah, people talk about it all the time!"

"It's some brand instant ramen from South Korean, old man. Sanyam or somethin'? Didn't get to read the package before Ai threw it in the cart." He shrugged

The idol giggled a little. "Not quite, Shou! See, Yashiki-san?" She was quick to show the package to me and I read it for myself. "And to top it off, we'll add ghost peppers for a kick!"

I gave a glance to where the peppers had been, witnessing the moment when Mashita managed to stick one each into our cups. It seemed Shou wasn't paying attention either luckily, but... I squinted for a moment in question as he poured coffee into the cups.

'Why? Why would you do that?' I mentally whispered before Ai brought me back to my senses.

"What's wrong, Yashiki-san?" She glanced over to where I was looking and watched Mashita walk away with the coffee before glancing at the counter.

Quick! I had to save him from suspicion!

"I didn't see any peppers though, Ai. I think you misplaced them."

Mashita scoffed as he left the kitchen. "Kids. Always losing things you just had seconds ago..."

Ai was checking all her pockets now and even hazarded checking Shou's. "N-no! That was going to be the ultimate finale! Are you cheating, Shou??"

Shou almost lost the pan as he tried to get Ai out of his jacket pockets, obviously a little embarrassed by the invasion of his personal space. "H-hey! Why would I take them? I didn't see ya place 'em down either!"

The idol gave a whine as she just stopped and pouted. "Guess we'll eat the noodles without them... Still think you're cheating! Come on, Shou! You're not running away that fast! You can't be a hero of justice with me if you can't take the heat!"

Shou sighed at that, but went along with it nonetheless. I supposed he couldn't help it. Her energy was kind of cute sometimes. "Man, again with that justice thing... But I ain't running! Bring it on!"

Once again, bold words... They were an odd pair, but they made things interesting. "I'll be out in the dining room if you guys need anything."

It didn't take long for me to get back to Mashita and sit down beside him, giving him that same questioning glance from the kitchen. Why didn't he just put them in his coat?

"Nobody in their right mind sticks their hand in hot coffee. If she had checked my pockets, it would be game over."

"I guess you're right..."

This brought me back to his comment at H Elementary where he had questioned a child's way of thinking, but I dropped it. The two were back anyway with four bowls of noodled. Ai was still energetic as usual, but Shou looked a little afraid as he stared at the bowls and swallowed thickly.

She must've made a new adjustment. Oh, boy...

It was painful watching them as they started because they were already red faced and Shou looked like he was going to get sick on my carpets at any given moment. I had to get a nearby trashcan out of sympathy. He shot me a questioning look, but seemed to appreciate the gesture.

Mashita didn't look all that good watching them either... I shrugged it off as I took a small sip of my coffee before noting the odd flavor.

Oh, right. Well, that was a mistake. I placed the coffee to the side as I looked back to the spectacle unfolding before us.

"O-okay, time for the noodles with the whole bottle of hot sauce! One minute to eat!"

"One minute??"

I groaned internally as I watched them for that next painful minute before taking a glance to Mashita to see his reaction. Was he... sweating? I peeked at his cup as he ran to the kitchen, assuming he was going to get water. Did... Did he really forget the pepper was in his cup?

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard someone's chair clatter to the floor as I whipped my head back to see Shou collapse to the floor. He seemed conscious, just... Sickly and his shirt was drenched. When did he shed his jacket?

"Yes! I won...!" She didn't sound quite as peppy as usual... In fact, her hair was sticking to her face and I swear she must've been panting before the decided to lay down beside Shou and gently nudging his arm. "Ready for a round two in a few minutes?"

Shou groaned as he held his stomach, crying out in anguish as Ai giggled. "I can't take anymore! Please, Ai, I feel like I'm dyin'..."

"This is your fault, you damn idiots!" Mashita cursed from the kitchen.

Shrugging, I got up to investigate the bowls on the table and noticed Shou's bowl still had food left. Why not? A little taste surely wouldn't be that awful as I picked up a pair of the disposable chopsticks from the pack they had bought to give it a try and surprised even myself. What were they complaining about?

"Hm, not bad..."

Guess I'd finish it up and then take care of my friends... After all, I didn't get lunch yet.