#on one unfortunate attempt they forgot the salt

[foldingfittedsheets]

I was thinking this before, but then you posted about your betrothed making you bread. And your art is fresh challah bread.

A little sweet. Warm. A comfort.

Mmmmm, absolutely stunning compliment.

[lovelybluebirdie]

The pale chef

Astarion x f!Reader

Summary: Astarion attempts to cook for you, but things don’t go as planned.

Word Count: 1,7k

A/N: I got the idea that Astarion naturally struggles with preparing food, so I had to write some fluff about it! Hope you enjoy :)

[ AO3 ]

Astarion stirred the pot in concentration, holding a wooden spoon in his hand and wondering what exactly he was doing here. 

This whole endeavour resulted from your constant need to be nice to him, he thought with a sigh – apparently it made him want to be nice as well. 

It started the other day when you mentioned how you would kill for a mushroom soup. At first he thought nothing of it, but for some reason the idea stuck to his head, so Astarion decided to roam the forest and gather some mushrooms. Unfortunately it turned out rather quickly that he lacked essential knowledge on the matter, so he had to consult Gale of all people. 

Putting his pride aside, he asked through gritted teeth which ones were edible and which to avoid, since he had no desire to poison you by accident. Due to Gale being Gale, the wizard not only lectured him on different kinds of fungi, he had also given a detailed instruction on the soup’s recipe.

Astarion chuckled at the absurdity of the scene. He had never thought that one day he'd voluntarily prepare food for another person – and yet he found himself bending over the hearth and mixing different ingredients, hoping for the best.

He even wore an apron borrowed from said wizard, therefore he was more than glad that his companions had left for a supply run, while you were waiting in your shared tent so he could attempt this little surprise in solitude.

Gale's voice echoed in his mind: Chop the mushrooms, add them to the broth, stir until thickened, season with salt and pepper and sprinkle a few herbs on top – that’s it! Absolutely foolproof, even for someone who prefers to appease their hunger solely with blood.

The mushrooms had been the easiest part. His dexterous fingers cut them into perfectly bite-sized pieces, but Astarion bloody forgot how long the meal should rest on the fire.

Suddenly a burning smell lingered in the air, and he sensed in horror that the soup was boiling over.

“Fuck!” He grabbed the pot with haste and put it away from the heat.

Well, he thought as he gazed at the bubbling mass, that probably meant it was done.

With utmost care not to spill more of his precious loot, he grabbed a ladle and filled a large portion for you. If he already took the effort for such a novelty, you should at least get your belly full.

Astarion slipped out of the apron and made his way back to you. He assumed you were already growing impatient, as this entire affair had consumed far more time than he had anticipated.

“Hello, darling,” he purred when entering your tent, skilfully balancing the bowl in his hand. 

“Finally! I thought you'd kept me waiting all night – wait, what's that?” You put the book you were reading aside and eyed the dish in his hands.

“I’m not quite sure myself, but according to Gale's recipe it should resemble a mushroom soup.”

Your eyes lit up. “Hold on – you prepared this for me? You know that’s my favourite, right?”

“I suppose I do.” Astarion offered you the soup with a coy smile. “Although you should remember that I’m not particularly versed in the culinary arts, so it might be best to treat this with caution.”

You took the bowl from his slender fingers. “Hah, let me be the judge of that! Besides, it was about damn time you returned the favour of feeding me for once, hm?”

“I couldn’t try it myself for obvious reasons, but I doubt that this could compete with your delicious blood,” Astarion replied jokingly and sat next to you, curiously watching as you sniffed the soup.

“Smells not bad…” you affirmed while blowing on the steaming broth resting on your spoon. “Now comes the delicate part – the taste test.”

The spoon disappeared in your mouth, and suddenly your face twisted into a grimace. You swallowed hard, a cough forcing its way through your pressed lips.

Astarion couldn’t help but snort over your clumsy attempt to keep the soup inside. “So – I sense I failed you miserably?”

“What? No – I mean, it’s not… terrible,” you stuttered. “It’s… Well – did you let it burn by chance?”

“Maybe.” He dragged out the syllables dramatically and shrugged. “Be honest, my dead heart surely can take it – shall we save this mess for Scratch and the owlbear?”

“Of course not!” you exclaimed with widened eyes. “I’m not hesitant to share, but not something you specially made for me. Also, some things tend to get better once you get used to the flavour, you know.” 

Before Astarion could intervene, you put another spoon to your mouth and eagerly gulped it down, followed by a second and a third. 

“There’s certainly room for improvement,” you eventually muttered with full cheeks, “but it’s not that bad.”

“I’m afraid you’re a poor liar, my love.” Astarion gently grasped your wrist to prevent you from taking another mouthful. “So please let me stop you right there, before you seriously upset your gut. I’m sure we can get you something more nutritious for the evening.” Then he took the spoon from your hand and put the bowl aside.

“If you insist,” you said with fondness in your eyes while wiping soup from the corner of your mouth. “But honestly – thank you, Astarion. This was… unexpectedly sweet.”

Heat rose to his ears as he rested his hand on your stomach, starting to draw circles. “Well, let's just hope my failed culinary attempt won't kill you tonight.”

“I guess in that case Lae’zel would avenge me, so you’d better start preparing yourself.”

“Mh… You think she’d stake me?” Astarion questioned and continued to caress your belly.

“Who knows what her creativity will lead to in the end. Knowing Lae’zel, she’d probably come up with something worse,” you pondered while tapping your chin. “But I guess you wouldn't let your preferred blood supply die that easily after all, would you?”

“Oh, don't sell yourself so short,” Astarion countered in feigned bewilderment. “You know that you mean way more to me than that.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, you also keep me warm at night, sparing me the coin for a thicker blanket. You know how expensive those things can get.”

You playfully raised an eyebrow, clearly not satisfied with his response. “And if you had to give a genuine answer this time?”

Astarion clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I thought my sentiments were rather obvious by now.”

“And yet I don't seem to tire of hearing your appreciation for me,” you teased.

“Getting greedy now, aren’t we? Fine, you're ... quite decent. Despite your constant need to do something heroic, of course.”

You poked his shoulder and turned away with an exaggerated pout.

Astarion chuckled, before he cleared his throat. “Alright – perhaps you’re more than that.” 

He drew you in his arms and breathed against your cheek. “One might also say you're the first person I truly came to care about. Deeply.”

Your lips brushed over his contours, searching for his own until you kissed him tenderly. “See? Wasn’t that hard, was it?”

Astarion rested a peck on your forehead and embraced you closer, a pleasant flutter spreading in his chest. 

You were right, he thought as his lips curled into an affectionate smile – with you, everything seemed surprisingly easy these days.

*

The next morning Astarion woke to a rumbling. He opened his eyes and could only make out your silhouette as you hastily rushed outside, leaving the flap of your tent wide open.

“Love, are you alright?” he asked in concern and immediately got up to follow you.

“Don't worry, I’m fine,” you huffed under your breath.

Astarion knelt beside you in the grass and frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I said… it’s alright…” You gagged between your words. “But perhaps the soup… Ugh–”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Astarion said softly, when he noticed that you were still wearing his shirt from the other night. “And for the love of the gods – please be careful not to stain my clothes.”

“That's what you’re most concerned about right now?”

“No, of course not! But – That’s my favourite,” Astarion mumbled while he reached for your hair, smoothing it back over your shoulders.

“FANGS, what did you do to her?!” Karlach’s voice erupted like a thunderstorm from the other side of the camp as she spotted the two of you.

“Nothing – I only prepared some soup for her last night!”

“Shadowheart! Hurry up, we need you – Astarion poisoned our leader!” Karlach was already marching in the cleric's direction.

“What – no!” You both spoke almost simultaneously, causing you to laugh.

“I seem to have a sensible stomach,” you managed to add before retching again.

Astarion turned serious as he rested his hand on your back. “I'm terribly sorry, my love. That wasn’t meant to happen at all.”

You offered a weak smirk. “I know, and I appreciate the thought. Besides, that means your next dish can only improve.”

Astarion gazed at you in disbelief. “You’d consider letting me cook again after this entire debacle? Those mushrooms must have gone to your beautiful head.”

“Well, on second thought–” You couldn't finish your sentence as your stomach’s content finally emptied onto the grass.

Astarion felt a twist at his ribcage seeing you like this. “We’d better make sure I haven’t actually poisoned you, shall we? – SHADOWHEART! Get yourself over here – now!” 

“I'M ON MY WAY!” Shadowheart shouted from afar.

“I think the worst is already over–” you began to explain, when another voice cut you off.

“Tsk’va! What is going on?” Lae’zel poked her head from her tent, obviously annoyed by the sudden tumult.

“Please, don’t let her stake me,” Astarion whispered and continued to stroke your back.

“Be glad that I love you, otherwise I’d probably let her get away with it this time,” you replied mischievously.

Astarion’s chest filled with warmth as he grasped for your hand. “My sweet, I truly am.” Then he bowed his head to place a kiss on your hair. “And I love you too. So much in fact, that I might consider forgiving you for ruining my shirt.”

You squeezed his hand and grinned. “Prick.”

Astarion returned your grin before his expression turned soft. “But honestly, I promise I’ll make this up to you.”

Next time he would surprise you with something less nauseating, he thought as his fingers entwined with yours – a safe choice like bringing another stray to your camp, or a nice perfume perhaps.

Masterlist

[yawntutsyip]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓 ─ when you bake something for them and it turns out horrible. (yuji, megumi, gojo)

warnings: none that I know of // SHITTY WRITING

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈:

When Yuji got home he was greeted by the smell of…well something was cooking.

“Babe, I'm home!” He announces and walks to the kitchen after taking his shoes off to see you standing there with a proud smile on your face and a plate of cookies in front of you.

“I made cookies for you! Try some!”

“Wow! Thank you baby” Yuji says excitedly and gives you a peck on the cheek before grabbing a cookie and taking a big bite, all excitement washed away.

Yuji chews waiting for the delicious sweetness to hit but it never does, all he got was immediate salt so he slows down his chewing and looks back at you and begins to feel bad.

You looked so proud standing there waiting for him to finish, you worked hard making these for him, how could he break your little heart. He just couldn’t.

“Mmm!” Yuji hums out with a forced smile as he swallows the horrid food. 

“I love my significant other I love my significant other  I love my significant other I love my significant other-” he repeats in his head and goes in for another bite, hands shaking, taste buds screaming.

‘WHY WAS IT SPICY? AND SALTY?’

“These are so good-” He begins but his body betrays him and causes him to gag, nearly spitting it back up.

“Yu? Is everything alright?” You say worried as you watch your boyfriend fight against throwing up.

“Y..ye..yeah baby, totally great! These cookies! Hahahaha so….gag so good!” 

Concern growing on you, you reach and grab one of the cookies to taste for yourself and ask the same question in your head.

‘WHERE DID THE SPICE AND SALT COME FROM?!’

Immediately you spit the food out in a napkin you quickly grab and shout at Yuji “SPIT IT OUT BABE!….DON’T KEEP EATING IT?!”

“No really babe it's not that bad!” He argues while trying to eat more but before he could you force it out of his mouth and quickly sweep all them away straight into the garbage and make him rinse his mouth in the sink.

“Why did you keep eating it?!?”

“You worked so hard..” He pouts at you.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈:

Megumi is a bit more straight forward than the others unfortunately. 

You and Megumi were chilling at your house, he was working on some homework while you were jamming in the kitchen attempting to make a chocolate cake with the ingredients you had at your house, some ingredients missing but you didn’t care.

“GUMI BEAR!” You scream for him. “I told you not to call me that, it's embarrassing…” He grumbles and appears behind you in a second, looking over your shoulder at the supposed cake you made. 

His face says it all, with his eyebrows furrowed with a sour look on his face. “I made a cake! I know it doesn’t look the prettiest…I forgot to let it cool off before I put the frosting on and it crumbled but I'm sure it tasted good…”

You grab some on a fork and place it in front of Megumi’s face so that he could taste it.

He shakes his head no at first but as you keep pestering him and he finally stops grumbling and takes the tiniest bite. “Yep it's good”

“You didn’t even eat it! You just tasted the fork! Come on, just try it”

With more groans and mumbles coming from him and more pestering coming from you, you finally get him to take a full bite of the cake you made.

You feed it to him and watch as he chews only once and quickly spits it out in an instant.

“That was disgusting.” He tells you but instantly regrets it as he watches the smile fall off your face and turn into a frown.

“...Sorry babe…” 

After you taste it for yourself you agree that he was not exaggerating because you had the same reaction when you got a crunch in your bite that was not supposed to be there. “Oh yeah what was not good…”

Megumi pulls you into his embrace while giving a light peck to your temple. “How about we make another one but together?”

WHILE THE TWO OF YOU ARE MAKING IT: “hand me the sugar please” “…babe did you use this earlier?” “yeah why?” “this is salt. You used salt instead of sugar.”

“OHHHHHHH well they look similar you can’t blame me…” You shrug sheepishly and go to crack the eggs but Megumi stops you.

“How about…I do the eggs…you can stir it”

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎:

Gojo was finally done with the last minute mission that he got sent and was now on his way back to his lovely significant other who was waiting at his house so patiently.

“ANGEL CAKES I'M HOME~ did you miss me?” he screams as he walks in the front door expecting to be greeted immediately with you at the door but you aren't there.

With a big frown on his face he walks further in the house to which then he hears you calling him from the kitchen. “In here my love! I got a tasty surprise for you!”

Books it to the kitchen with a cheeky smile on his face, once he sees you he’s slightly disappointed the surprise wasn't you on the counter, but a plate of cookies instead, a man could dream.

“I made you cookies! Tadaaaaa!” You tell him while shoving the plate in front of him and greeting him with a kiss.

In your guy's relationship Gojo does the cooking and baking. From knowing you since you both were in diapers, he has had previous experiences with you and your cooking to know whatever you made was about to taste like an absolute abomination. 

“NOW! Before you say anything, I know I’m not the best at cooking but this time I followed the recipe step by step! So they should taste good…how hard could making simple cookies be? Taste them!”

Gojo hesitates but seeing you look so proud of yourself made him let his guard down. “Alrighty, hand one over then lets see” He gives in and takes the cookie you handed him, taking a bite before the horrid familiar taste hits his tongue. He quickly makes a gesture that he needs something to drink with a smile and when you turn your back to him he quickly opens the garbage with his foot and spits out while chucking the cookie in after, if you can even call it that.

You turn back around and hand him a glass of water. “Woah! You finished it already?! Was it good?” You grin at him while clapping your hands.

The man felt bad that even when following a simple recipe you had no talent when it came to baking, “Very good! I ate a lot of kikufuku on the way here so i'm full but i’ll eat some later cutie”

Later that night, when he made sure you were deep asleep he throws them all away and quickly stuffs other things to hide his crime.

Next morning: “Toru? What happened to all the cookies I made last night?” “I got so hungry in the middle of the night and they were so good that I ate them all! Sorry angel!”

“Oh?! Okay I’ll just make more then! Look I’m improving-“

“NO!…no more cookies, save your baking for a special time…hehe”

[hoshinoyozora]

Poor, Unfortunate Soul(s)

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Self-aware! Twisted Wonderland x Female! Reader

💛 Word Count: 1,3k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

Just a lil scenario about MC who ‘dismisses’ their existences aka me lmao.

“They’re just a bunch of game characters, anyway. Why should I care so much about them?”

You laughed, unaware of the hearts that you broke within the screen. The thin yet sturdy piece of glass that separated you from the people who thought of you as their world. Their everything. Your friend chuckled, adding salt to the injury. Had she didn’t ask you why you hadn’t logged into the game for days, weeks even, maybe they wouldn’t be so humiliated and disappointed.

But did that mean they wouldn’t know your true opinion on them otherwise?

Maybe ignorance was bliss, because, then, they would’ve kept holding onto the hope for you to come back. To still want them the same way they wanted you. In this world of codes and numbers, you were the one real thing in their lives. You were human. Warm, fleshy, and expressive. And yet, you dismissed their existences so easily just because you both lived in two different worlds.

Did they really mean nothing for you? Were all of your reactions towards them merely a façade? Or a memory so insignificant you forgot about it in the next day?

“Maybe I should just delete the app. It feels like a chore to open it nowadays.”

The sky darkened, the ground trembled, and the thunder rumbled as the result of a certain dragon fae. Was this your true self? Then again, NRC was a school of villains. They shouldn’t be surprised if you, the Player, turned out to be the biggest villain of all. Not even Malleus Draconia could hold a candle to you. Your words alone had the ability to mold and break their spirits. Your touch alone could move them somewhere else and show them how beautiful Twisted Wonderland was with you by their side. And your presence alone gave them a reason to live.

If you were to disappear, wouldn’t that be comparable to death? A slow, painful death where everyone lost themselves in depression and rage, and ultimately, destroyed themselves. In a moment of morbid curiosity, they wondered if that was what you wanted all along. You toyed with their hearts, and when you got bored, you moved onto their lives.

“We… we can’t just let her leave!” A boyish voice, thick with desperation and an even desperate attempt to recompose, shattered the mournful silence. Everyone recognized him as Ace Trappola, one of Yuu’s enviable first friends and troublemakers from Heartslabyul. “We need to stop her! Come on, guys. Are we really going to stop now, after everything we’ve done to reach her?”

“But how?” Leona asked, sounding even more listless somehow. Despite his pride and consent, you’d taken a peek into his past and remained amicable with him. It didn’t matter that it was for the sake of the plot, your vessel, Yuu, still approached him and asked for his help during Octavinelle’s story. Didn’t that mean something for you? For him? “Just because we’ve managed to hack into her phone doesn’t mean we can drag her here. There’s only so much we can do to make her stay.”

Ace flinched, unprepared for the reality to slap him twice.

“I-I don’t know.” He turned to face the Diasomnia gang who, with the exception of the sniffling Sebek, looked as somber as a funeral guest. “Malleus-senpai, Lilia-senpai, you guys gotta know something about bringing someone from another world, right? You guys are the strongest of the strongest. I don’t care if it’s forbidden. There… there has to be a way!”

For a moment, they were silent as though reluctant to admit their lack of knowledge. Ace wilted, his buckling knees threatening to collapse once the severity of the situation settled in.

That is, until Lilia opened his mouth.

“… There is, actually.” he murmured. “But for every soul that moves here, another has to replace them.”

Some of the characters lit up, but the others remained skeptical.

“And I assume it’s for the sake of balance?” Vil mused, crossing his arms.

Lilia’s glance confirmed his suspicion.

“T-then, what are we waiting for?” In a burst of hope, Azul momentarily stopped sobbing. “Let’s sacrifice that person.”

“But who’s gonna be that person?” Jamil retorted.

Everyone fell quiet again, unwilling to be the lamb in the altar of your capricious existence.

“The NPCs ‘live’ when the story is moving.” Idia mumbled through the floating device. His shyness and reluctance for a face-to-face interaction was customary, but nobody could truly see the underworld his sanity was falling at a rapid pace. Still, it didn’t change the fact that he still wanted to see you living among them. Literally. “That means she has to play again if we want to sacrifice one of them.”

“I, for one, would be more than willing to help ‘convincing’ her, if that’s what it takes.” Jade simpered with his eyes closed and a hand over his chest.

“Oui! It’d be a splendid day to see her sublime face gracing us again. The sun would shine warmly, the flowers would grow tastefully, and the birds would chirp merrily!” Rook enthused, jabbing at Malleus’s inadvertent use of magic.

Riddle wiped his teary eyes with the sleeve of his uniform and straightened up.

“Seeing that our Player has slackened in her responsibility to watch over us, it is our duty to set her right.” he declared. “Heartslabyul students, I order you to find this person and bring him here!”

“I-I agree…!” Sebek piped up, still loud as always despite his trembling voice and runny nose. “I shall seize him and send him to that world at once!”

Ever the dutiful one, Silver gripped his baton and nodded. As long as it wasn’t murder without a cause, he’d gladly perform any task like a true knight would.

“Well, if Riddle ordered us like this, who are we to disobey him?” Cater laughed, trying to hide the shakiness of his voice.

Trey pushed his glasses, foggy from the upcoming tears.

“Indeed. But I won’t lie, this is something that I’m looking forward to carry out.”

“For once, you did something right, Ace!” Deuce beamed proudly.

“Oi!”

Jamil glanced at Kalim, who reluctantly nodded. He hated to see people throwing away their lives carelessly, after all the assassination attempts that he suffered through the story. But if it was for the sake of seeing you with them, who was he to stop them?

Floyd grinned happily, but the anger of being abandoned by you darkened his eyes.

“Once she gets here, I’ll be sure to give her a nice, long squeeze as a welcome~”

“Well, Leona-san?” Ruggie asked, crossing his hands behind his head. “Are we gonna boost their morale or something?”

Leona sighed, lacking the irritated exhaustion he usually had. Even he wasn’t immune to the hope that Lilia brought to them, no matter how annoying it was to trust him.

“You better not be disappointing us, Lilia.” he growled. “And you, too, Radish Sprout.”

“I don’t like this.” Jack murmured. “But if this is what it takes to make the Player fulfill her role again, then I’ll do my best to live up to the expectations!”

“I… I will join as well!” Epel stated, clenching his fists resolutely.

“Look, Brother!” Ortho chirped. “You managed to bring them all together. That’s so cool!”

Idia muttered something, but the younger boy was too engrossed in their touching cooperation to notice.

Sunlight finally dispersed the dark clouds, mirroring their spirit. Malleus took a step forward with his chin raised in determination.

“Then, I shall assist Lilia with the magic.”

You said you didn’t care about them?

Well, they would make you care.

[xaeethebaee]

Shuji x Shortcake Chapter Three

Minors DNI! Mature Audience ONLY!

After over a decade, you reunited with your childhood best friend Shuji Hanma after moving back to Japan. Things seem great however the more you've spent time with him, the more you learn about the dark activities he has been into since you last saw him.

Warnings! Violence, mentions of murder, smoking, Hanma being a giant intimidating doofus, and strong sexual content. More warnings will be added for individual chapters.

This fic contains both fluff and smut in addition to some dark content (Hanma is in a gang after all).

Chapter Warnings! Blood and Gore. Attempted R (Hanma comes just in time), human burrito, and gaslighting if you squint. There is a flashback as indicated in italics, and the perspective will switch from Reader to Hanma multiple times throughout.

A/n: Just a quick reminder that all characters in this story are at least 20 years of age.

Word Count: 2.9k

It’s been a long night worrying about this party. Long before even arriving at the mansion, you were anxious about what could unfold tonight. Despite that, your friend assured you that everything would be fine. Her confident tone allowed you to loosen up a bit - with the help of some liquid courage.

Chapter Three

For the first time tonight, you are actually having fun. All you can do is smile and dance away to the rhythm and beats courtesy of Rindou Haitani who expertly mixes many songs together to create a work of art. For once tonight, you adorn a genuine smile on your face. For once, you’re enjoying yourself. For once, the anxiety that was building up inside of you dissipates allowing you to regain control of your mind. For once, you are not stressed out about this godforsaken party.

All good things must come to an end, unfortunately. You’re too engrossed in your own fun that you did not notice the moment your drink - that you’ve been holding all night - has been spiked. In spite of having the high ground and keeping his eye on you, Hanma was not able to catch that moment either. More importantly, he did not even see the one responsible. Figuring out that part will have to subside for now as a sense of urgency overtakes his lean body.

“Hey? Hanma. What’s your deal?”

Sanzu asks, wiping the white crystals from below his nostrils. Hanma did not answer as he immediately rushes out of the balcony and into an adjoining hallway, leaving the pink-haired crewmate to his recreational activities.

On the dance floor, your friend is nowhere to be seen even though you were just right next to her a moment ago. Granted, she was right next to you even when you first realized your condition. In your drugged-out state, you forgot that you turned your back on her after being grossed out by her seductively dancing with Ran Haitani. Instead, you started looking for her in the opposite direction.

That explains why you were unable to find her, though, it’s not like you had much luck in the first place. The woman who was supposed to stay by your side the entire night for reassurance finds herself being escorted off the dancefloor by the elder Haitani. To add salt to the wound, she never attempts to check to see if you were still next to her.

Completely abandoned, you stumble to a pillar that holds up the balcony Hanma was just relaxing on moments ago. You find that it suddenly became hard to keep your eyes open while remaining on your feet at all times. Your muscles ache, begging you to rest them, and the room around you spins causing you to become nauseous. That did not stop you from noticing a familiar pair of men approaching in your direction. Even though you’re drugged, it does not take much of your common sense to realize the ill intentions they have in store for you.

It takes much of your strength to pull your body off the structure before you start to wobble toward what you think is the foyer of the mansion. Instead, you have entered the hallway that leads to the private rooms of the house.

“Where are you going, sweetheart?”

Those words pierce through your eardrums as you feebly attempt to get away from the men. Your attempt is in vain once you feel rough hands grabbing at your body. You attempt to scream, but no words come out as the other man covers your mouth, while simultaneously brushing his chapped lips against the shell of your ear.

“Shhhh.”

His hot breath brushed against your skin, nearly causing you to vomit on the spot. Your weak arms try to pry the man’s much stronger arms away; however, all they do is laugh at your hopeless form.

“Let’s hurry up before one of those Kanto Manji Gang assholes see us.”

One of the men says to the other. Swiftly, you’re dragged to a private room that is towards the end of the hallway just in time for a familiar tall and lanky man to see you being taken into the room. Rage fills his golden orbs as he marches straight to the bedroom, squeezing his hands so tight that his knuckles turn white.

At this point, your senses have been completely corrupted by the drugs in your system; therefore, you fail to notice one of the men pulling out a switchblade from his pocket. With an evil smirk, he uses the tool to cut open your small dress. The fabric was tight on you, not allowing much room for a bra; therefore, you went without one. Completely exposed, save for your underwear, the men throw you onto the bed; however, that is the furthest they were able to get.

They did not get a chance to continue touching you as the wooden door to the room bursts open, and seething Hanma charges in, never giving the men any time to process his presence. The door closes behind him and the auto-lock mechanism disengages not allowing anyone to enter - more accurately speaking, exit. Thankfully, you lost consciousness, sparing you from witnessing the brutality that is about to unfold.

Hanma notices the man baring his switchblade while his friend arms himself with a discarded curtain rod. He can see the blatant fear in their eyes as they back away toward the wall, shaking like cowards.

“H-Hanma Shuji?” One of them stuttered, causing the tall man to let out a dark chuckle.

He averts his gaze to your unconscious nude body and then faces them again.

“As fucked up as we are, we do not condone this.” He only states, taking off his black hoodie and revealing the white t-shirt underneath.

In an agonizingly slow manner, he proceeds to lay the hoodie over your body, covering you up. Due to his sheer size, the hoodie almost acts as if it’s a blanket leaving only your feet and some of your legs uncovered. After that, he turns back to the cowering men before stating in a dark tone:

“This is necessary.”

He approaches them but the man with the switchblade charges at him before quickly swinging it. He managed to cut through Hanma’s skin; however, it was not enough to slow him down. Instead, Hanma grabs the man’s hand with Punishment, using it to shove the blade straight into his eye. The moment was too quick for his friend to react in time, so he was forced to watch and listen to the agonizing scream.

With a sadistic smile, Shuji turns to him as he throws the switchblade-baring man to the wall, leaving a crater.

“You’re next.”

The other man was only able to weakly swing the metal curtain rod at the taller man. Hanma hastily grabs the rod before it could make contact with his head, and he immediately yanks the object out of his hand, leaving him unarmed. Sin makes a crushing impact on his face, shattering his nose in the process.

Suddenly, Hanma grabs his neck before dragging him to an adjacent bathroom. He also grabs the switchblade man by his collar and throws him into the room as well and then he shuts the door. All that is heard are the blood-curdling screams that all fall on deaf ears. Constant sounds of struggle and crashing could also be heard though they are all being drowned out by the blaring music from the ongoing party. You’re completely unconscious, and there is nobody else around that could hear the brutal violence that is happening on the other side of that door.

Your unconscious body lay there completely still save for your heaving chest. You’re still breathing while snuggled under Hanma’s jacket. That breathing allows the scent emanating from the article of clothing to invade your nostrils - albeit that scent has a tinge of cigarette stench.

Even though much of your senses are still corrupted, your brain still registers the familiar smell of someone from the past. It’s not the first time you’ve been wrapped in the soft and comfortable fabric that was given to you by Shuji Hanma himself.

In the middle of winter, you find yourself shivering from the cold air that is crashing against your 11-year-old body. School has just let out, and you walk through the front gate only to be quickly met by Shuji who was waiting for you with a wide grin. A happy smile is presented on your face once you noticed the tall boy, and without hesitation, you nearly sprint to him. Your arms wrap around his body and you rest your head on his chest.

“Whoa. I didn’t think you would be so happy to see me.” Hanma says in amusement, returning the hug by engulfing you with his arms.

“Shut up. I’m cold.” You immediately reply, never letting go of your embrace.

The boy could only chuckle at your response knowing deep down how you truly feel about him. Nevertheless, he finds enjoyment and in a lot of ways, comfort whenever you are in his presence. Even as an 11-year-old kid, he knew and accepted the strong feelings he had for you.

Never dropping his hold, he can feel you still shivering in his arms. The boy examines the sweater you decided to wear and scoffs at the thin fabric fully aware of its uselessness against the chilly weather.

“How long have you been living here and how are you still not used to this?”

He teasingly asks, snuggling you tighter in order to share his body heat with you.

“I don’t go outside much, Shu.”

Came your response though it is muffled due to you burying your face into his chest.

“Fuck, Shortcake. I know it has been at least a few years now. There’s no excuse.” He chuckles.

“Stop calling me that.”

“No. Now let go.”

He demands despite not giving you a chance to object by prying your arms away from him. You can only cry out slightly from the loss of warmth. Amused by your attitude, Hanma just takes off his jacket before putting it over your shoulders, allowing you to be warm again.

“But you’ll be cold.” You say; however, Hanma shrugs his shoulders.

“It’s nothing. Come on.”

The taller boy starts walking down the sidewalk and you quickly follow behind him. Looking down at you, he smiles, adoring how cute you look in his jacket that is way too big for you.

You, on the other hand, can feel the intense gaze coming from your best friend. If it wasn’t for the warm jacket and his natural scent that is lingering on it, you’d feel a little embarrassed from the staring. Despite that, you internally smile to yourself being content with his presence.

“Shu?”

You ask for him softly, and in return, Hanma gives you a hum.

“I’ve been invited to a birthday party by Mitsuko.” You announce with a smile.

Hanma blinks away his adoration as his smile drops instantly. Looking forward, he puts his hands in his pockets, slouching slightly.

“Really?” He asks, feigning interest.

You can hear the fakeness in his tone; therefore, you breathe out a sigh, knowing exactly where this may be going. Due to how close you two are, it’s easy to forget that you’re capable of befriending other people. Hanma knows that too, and he knows that he cannot control who you are friends with. That does not stop him from feeling a ping of jealousy upon hearing you mention the other people in your life.

“Yes. She asked me to bake a strawberry shortcake for her.”

“Why can’t she do that shit herself if she wants one so bad?”

Sighing, you respond:

“Because it is her BIRTHDAY.”

“So? She has parents, right? More importantly, she has two fucking hands.”

Shuji responds with more hostility this time. You’re unbothered by the tone as you continue:

“She wants it to be her present, so I agreed to bake one for her.”

The tall boy starts picking up his pace, and due to his long legs, he is able to get a few feet away from you in seconds. Huffing, you speed up to catch up with him. Even though you’re somewhat used to this behavior, you’re still a bit annoyed by it. Hanma can get childish sometimes; however, it is with a reason.

“Slow down, Shu!” You demand, already feeling tired from the speed-walking.

Although reluctant, Hanma does so. You managed to match his pace again as you two continue into a middle-class neighborhood. The residential homes line the streets as the noise from the busy city street is slowly replaced by the quietness of suburbia.

“Why is it that every time I mention my other friends, you catch an attitude?” You ask after catching your breath.

“I don’t have an attitude. You’re just seeing things.” Hanma says dismissively.

“I will kick you in the shin if you try that on me again.”

You threaten, causing the adolescent male to chuckle.

“Fine. You want the honest truth. You have terrible taste in friends.” He reveals, causing you to gasp.

“How!?”

“Well, I see some of those girls around the places where I hang out at. They aren’t exactly the upstanding students they pretend to be.”

He explains, looking down at you to gauge your reaction. Confused, you return the look. It’s no secret to Hanma that you can be a little naive when it comes to the people you choose to hang out with, which is part of the reason why he feels unnerved whenever you make a new friend. As a delinquent kid himself, he can easily point out other delinquents and this Mitsuko girl is no exception. Additionally, he can also tell which of these ‘friends’ you have are truly good friends, which makes him more perceptive than the normal kid his age.

“Remember when you invited those same friends to your birthday party a few months ago?” He asks.

“Yea and they got sick, so they weren't able to come.”

“All of them?” He raises a brow at you.

You can only present a pout before saying:

“You act like NOBODY showed up. Some people came and we had a good time so that is what mattered.”

“Mitsuko did not show up yet she wants you to bake her a cake that is only for me.”

“First of all, I never said that I bake for you.”

You correct him as you two arrive at your house. Unlocking the front door, you enter followed by Hanma who promptly takes off his shoes. You take off yours as well, before putting on your house slippers while saying:

“I’ve already promised her that I’ll show up with the cake.”

“Sometimes, you’re too nice for your own good.”

He points out as you two make your way to the living room.

“That girl is nothing but trouble, I swear.” He adds.

“You’re just jealous.” You tease him back while sticking out your tongue at him.

“Or maybe you just attract bad people?”

Hanma says as he puts his arm over your shoulders. Both of you become content with each other’s presence as he turns on the television.

The screams soon stop, and there is an eerie silence emanating from the bathroom. The wooden door creaks open after a few minutes, revealing a blood-covered adult Hanma. He smiles upon seeing you unharmed; however, he is reminded of the fact that you were drugged which was why you are in the position that you are in.

He says in a soft tone. A soft smile adorns his bloody face feeling the same sensation of happiness and contentment from childhood. It’s been over ten years since he has last seen you. Throughout that time, he has never stopped thinking about you, even hoping that one day you would make a return. There is a lot of catching up to do since so much has happened. Thinking about that sort of made the male anxious as he is not sure about how you’d feel once you find out about the shenanigans he has been up to.

“Oh Shortcake.”

Right now, Hanma decides that getting you to a safer location is his biggest priority. He’ll cross the ‘Revealing his involvement with the Kanto Manji Gang’ bridge when he gets there. He reaches to scoop your unconscious body but stops right before he does. His eyes peer at his bloodied hands and then he looks at the body mirror next to him, reminding himself of the splattered human blood - and possibly some bits of internal organs - on his body. The man goes back into the red bathroom, stepping over the mutilated corpses in order to get to the shower knowing better not to risk smearing some of that Probable Cause on your face and body.

“Ran and Rindou are gonna be pissed when I tell them about this.”

Hanma remarks while taking off his soiled clothes. He gets into the shower to wash off the blood. It only takes a few minutes for Shuji to wash off the blood and to find another pair of jeans and a white t-shirt after checking the bathroom pantry. Those clothes belong to Ran Haitani which is almost no surprise that they fit due to their similar stature. Freshly cleaned off, he also notices a neatly folded quilt on the top shelf in the pantry, taking the opportunity to snatch it.

Going back to your unconscious body, he spreads the quilt out on the bed while tucking one side under your body. In a rather childish act, the tall man rolls your body while simultaneously rolling the blanket over you, effectively turning you into a human burrito.

“Off to my room, we go.” He happily says, heading to the door and managing to unlock it.

Hanma exits the room, allowing for the door to close again so it locks to prevent someone from walking into the bloody horror scene.

[Just a forewarning, Chapter Four WILL have an explicit sex scene.]

[I need some help! I've been trying to add links to the previous chapters so they'll be easier to access. I do not know how to do it in a way that looks organized and it doesn't take up so much space. I've seen other blogs that have that when it's just the previous chapter name - i.e. Chapter One - with the line under it. All you have to do is click it and it'll take you to that page. (I don't know exactly how to explain it, so I hope you understand what I am trying to say.) I've tried numerous times but the links end up super big and ugly. Does anyone have any advice?]

Taglist Officially Opened:

@510hz @reiners-milkbiddies @sleeplessreader

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future: The Animated Series, s01ep12 “Retired”

Previous episodes linked HERE.

In this episode: Jules and Verne's April Fool's jokes nearly destroy not only their family but also the entire town.

Quick update on the pic/gif situation. If you've been keeping up with these, you know my pics and gifs aren't being formatted correctly when viewed through a desktop computer. Instead of being in a row, they get enlarged and stacked vertically. Tumblr support has informed me that this is a bug they're working on. So, while it still bothers me and ruins the "flow" of my posts, I'm at least not losing my mind over it anymore. That is all.

Our visit with Real Doc begins with him hyping us up to see his latest experiment. He explains that it's taken months of research and hard work, but he's finally able to reveal...

He's finally able to reveal....!

Yep, Doc can't remember what it is. He goes totally blank, having completely forgotten what experiment he was going to show us. He's put hours upon hours of painstaking work into something and cannot for the life of him remember what it is. Doc panics as he tries unsuccessfully to figure it out. This is basically what happens.

He briefly ends the broadcast, then returns a moment later to make his second attempt at announcing his latest invention. Unfortunately, he still can't remember anything regarding what he was so excited to show us. "It can't be," he says. "Not my brain power."

This leads Doc into the story of another time he feared he was losing his mind, which all started with a prank on April Fool's Day.

The cartoon begins, and we watch as Jules and Verne put the final touches on all their planned hijinks for the holiday. Some of the things on their list of pranks include: salt in the sugar bowl, chocolate sauce in the shower nozzle, and pouring sparkling water on Doc's brainwave analyzer (which is less of a prank and more of just. breaking something lol).

One by one, the pranks play out, with Doc being completely unaware that he's being tricked. When his "automated jogging shorts" (which have been filled with banana peels) malfunction, he's confused but generally unalarmed. When Clara goes to shower and gets covered in chocolate sauce, he ends up thinking it was a skin-moisturizing feature he purposely built in and somehow forgot about. And when he tries to use the brainwave analyzer, which the boys had poured water on, it tells Doc that he's only got 0.01% of his brainpower left.

Doc tells Marty, who has stopped by for a visit, that he must immediately give up science in order to preserve the tiny bit of his brain that he's got left. He also says that he can't even risk conversing with Marty anymore.

Doc then runs straight through the wall of the garage and toward the house in an absolute panic.

Marty, meanwhile, is very bummed at the timing of this whole crisis. He's got a big upcoming gig with The Pinheads, and Doc had promised to help create some cool special effects for the show. But special effects require brainpower, which Doc refuses to use. Left on his own in the garage, Marty takes it upon himself to "borrow" a weather simulator machine Doc had invented. He thinks it'll make the perfect special effects for his concert and has no idea that Jules and Verne have also messed with this device.

We do a little time-jump then, where we see Doc sitting on the couch in his robe, watching mindless television. He's determined to not do anything that requires thought, and Clara is fed up with the whole thing. She tells him he's got to find something else useful to do if he isn't going to do science anymore. They have this funny exchange.

Unable to convince him to get up and do literally anything, Clara announces that she's getting Marty (who she feels is the only one able to talk some sense into her husband). When she returns with him, they find a note from Doc telling them he feels like a burden and has decided to run away. Yes, Doc has ABANDONED his wife and two small sons.

Also, yes, this is a silly cartoon for kids, but I also feel like there's a lot to examine here. Doc thinking he's used up almost all of his brain and deciding his family would be better off without him sort of says a lot about how his sense of self-worth is dependent on his perceived level of intelligence. The guy really thinks he has nothing to offer his family anymore and has decided to jump ship because he evidently can't see any remaining valuable qualities in himself.

Who did this to him? Doc, who damaged you like this? Was it Erhardt? Can we assume Erhardt is somehow responsible?

Meanwhile, Doc is wandering the streets, desperately trying not to think. And honestly? He should've brought Marty along, because Marty is well-versed in the skill of Not Thinking. He could've been a big help.

After a brief scene of Marty and Clara failing to get the police to take them seriously regarding Doc's disappearance—they think it's an April Fool's prank—we return to Doc, who has taken a job playing piano at a Hawaiian Luau-themed lounge. The patrons are less than thrilled with his rendition of "If I Only Had a Brain" from The Wizard of Oz.

Also, I'm no expert, but I'd say playing an instrument uses a significant portion of your brain, Doc. If you're trying to preserve that 0.01% that you've got left, you're not doing a very good job.

As a side note, I like that Doc can play piano. Unfortunately, he swiftly gets fired from the job for putting everyone to sleep.

We go back to Clara, who has resorted to wearing a sandwich board in order to bring awareness to her plight.

After his failed job at the lounge, we follow Doc on a montage of several more failures as he tries being a gardener, a parking attendant, and a pizza maker.

Things are not going well for him.

Apparently, the whole situation thus far has all taken place in the span of a few hours (I thought it had been days, lol) because Marty and Clara go to pick up the boys from school and inform them that their father is missing.

We go again to Doc then, who has decided to use the DeLorean to travel back to a time "when things were simple." As he flies off into the sky, we see a brief shot of a movie theater where Back to the Future is playing.

He ends up traveling to the Cro-Magnon period, where he attempts to teach the people there how to make fire. And I say again: Doc is doing a very poor job of not using his brain. He should've stayed on the couch watching mind-numbing TV if he was really serious about all of this.

After concluding that the temptation to invent things is still too strong, he seeks out a place where "no thinking is required."

Back in present day Hill Valley, Marty is preparing for his concert with The Pinheads. Wow, there's a lot of scene-jumping in this episode! We're all over the place here, bouncing between Doc and everyone else.

Marty is convinced that the best way to find Doc is to do his show because, "Doc told me he was coming, and he hasn't broken a promise to me yet." Awwwww. Very sweet. And he ends up being right about Doc showing up because we soon see him sleeping under some newspapers.

Turns out a rock concert is the perfect place to go when you don't want to experience a single thought.

Clara and the boys catch up to him and try to explain that the brain wave analyzer had been sabotaged, but Doc isn't buying it. The show begins, and Marty uses the weather simulator he had taken for his special effects earlier in the episode. Since Jules and Verne had also tampered with that device, it starts going haywire and creates a massive, dangerous storm. Marty is struck by lightning (he's fine), Doc is struck by lightning (he's also fine), and the sky turns into a swirling vortex of doom. There's a simultaneous thunderstorm, massive flooding, and snow. Clara and the boys beg Doc to use his brain to come up with a plan to save the town before it's too late. Btw, this is the current situation...

And I'm sorry but. I don't think Hill Valley can be saved at this point. Everything is completely underwater. The clock tower is almost entirely submerged. This is hundreds of millions of dollars in damage, and people are probably dead. It's incomprehensible destruction all caused by Jules and Verne's April Fool's Day prank. They should be brought up on criminal charges.

After being convinced to finally use his brain, Doc is able to turn off the machine and undo all the chaotic weather. The end result is only a slightly soggy Hill Valley. I guess no major damage was done by the 50-foot-deep floodwaters. Somehow.

We go to the Browns' kitchen table, where Doc falls victim to one final prank the boys had set up: salt in the sugar bowl. After choking on his salt-filled cup of coffee, we end on a freeze frame of Doc scowling at his children.

I also must address the fact that Doc's eye color was off again in this episode. If you've been keeping up with these posts, you've seen me mention this inconsistency before. There have been many instances of a character's eyes changing for a few seconds mid-scene (a Tannen relative's eyes going from black to blue, then back to black briefly, as well as Doc's changing to blue for a few moments) but this was like. The whole episode. They went from being black in all previous episodes to being green.

Left is how they should look (taken from a previous episode). Right is what they were like for this whole episode.

I'd really love to know why this show struggles so much with eye color consistency. What a weird little problem to have.

Real Doc closes out the episode with an experiment involving condensation and "creating clouds" but it isn't all that interesting, so I don't have much to say about it. The end!

This episode was kind of fun, even though Doc was super out of character. That guy would not ditch his family like that. It also made no sense how he was spent the whole time going, "I must not think!" while taking on jobs that all required significant amount of thought. The rapid-fire scene-jumping gave me whiplash, too. Fifteen seconds with Doc, then a thirty second Marty and Clara scene, then back to Doc for like a minute before we go back to Marty and Clara...I'm tired.

Why are Doc's eyes green now?

Join me next week for our final episode of season 1, in which Clara's mother falls in love with Marty.

[waterfallofspace]

#23 from my prompt meme with E/lias (maybe P/eter deciding to make Elias sneeze)??

Thank you for the request~~

Gently humming “wreeeckkk the maannn, wreeck the maaan” under my breath~ <3

2.4k, prompt #23 from ~this list~, story under cut!

23. "You really don’t want to do that, trust me."

(References to swearing, and T/MA spoilers, so please proceed with caution for those!)

~~~~~~~

It wasn’t The Eye that alerted him to the company waiting in his office. Nor was it Rosie, though it should have been. Elias makes a mental note to have a talk with her about her job description. No, unfortunately for the head of the institute, what clued him in was an unmistakable scent of mischief in the air. Mischief tinged with a hint of salt. 

“Peter,” Elias offers with a glance at the figure flicking into focus in the corner. He steps into his office, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t recall planning a meeting for today.” 

To the untrained ear it would seem a polite yet dismissive greeting, but Peter is well versed in the many tones of Elias Bouchard. As a captain, one has to be able to see each undertow through an otherwise calm surface, a technique not limited to the ocean. 

“Your memory remains sharp as ever, Elias. We did not. However, I’ve come to you with an offer. One I know you can’t turn down.” 

Raising an eyebrow, Elias lets the image of Jon slumped over his recorder fade into the background. Pulling himself to his full height, he strides to his desk and takes a seat behind it. 

“You have my undivided attention.”

“I do, don’t I? What an honour.” The captain sinks onto the desk, a faint smile clinging to the corners of his balanced expression. His gaze falls on Elias, who in turn feels himself starting to slip into the familiar sensation. 

Peter’s eyes aren’t just dark, they’re more… empty. It’s not that the light doesn’t reach them; they aren’t bathed in shadows. Instead, they seem to soak the light from around them and swallow it whole. As they trace up Elias’s figure, it’s as if they’re trying to consume the glow from his own, taking all of him with it. 

“Well? I am quite a busy man. If you would be so kind, present your offer.”

“Oh, I did use that word, didn’t I?” Despite not a trace of illumination, a gleam dances through Peter’s eyes. “My sincerest apologies, I fear it doesn’t quite match my intentions. Perhaps a better term would be… challenge.” 

“And what sort of ‘challenge’ would that be?” 

Within a moment the faint smell of salt is replaced by a burning sort of sweetness. Elias feels his body react before his mind has a chance to catch up, a single finger raising to crush the tip of his nose. The contact only serves to exaggerate the itch, and the hand is quickly dropped back to his side. 

A smile spreads across Peter’s face in response, fingers uncurling to reveal something long, soft, and distinctly floral. His lips part with an inhale Elias finds himself unable to echo as Peter whispers, “An easy one. Don’t sneeze.” 

“Sihhh… hiH-! Simple enough, I suhhppose. And what do I ge- gehh… hH-! get if I succeed?” 

“Whatever you would like.”

“You seem quihhte confident, Peter,” Elias purrs, attempting to maintain a touch of decorum through the maddening tickle as it begins to spread deeper. Peter shifts his position, hand coming to rest against Elias’s knee, the offending blossom inching ever closer.

“Perhaps I am.” 

“I’ll be the first to admit I wahhsn’t expecting it, you caught m- me… hH- off guard,” Taking a pause, Elias swallows hard, willing the tears pooling around his lashes not to fall. With a measured breath, carefully manufactured nonchalance spread across his face, he meets Peter’s gaze. 

“Unfortunately for you, the element of surprise has passed, and I am quite able to fight off this mild irritation.” 

“Is that so? Oh dear, my apologies once more, I’m afraid things just keep slipping my mind today. I forgot to mention there’s one more rule to this little challenge,” Peter hums, the smile haunting his hollow face almost as sickeningly sweet as the fauna he waves around with precise recklessness. 

Elias feels his nose quiver as the pollen spreads through the air, an unfortunate side effect of The Eye presenting itself as each individual grain makes themselves known to him. Peter had paused, presumably for dramatic effect. Though now it’s more likely captivation, eye’s locked on his prey as Elias sniffles with increasing urgency.

“Ahh… hIH-! And what wouhhld that be?” 

“There are no limits to what I can do with my weapon of choice.” 

Gesturing to the flower hanging from his fingers, Peter’s face lights up with a smirk once more. The glow of mischief is not unfamiliar to him, but Elias still can’t seem to shake the unease that settles in his gut. Such a light seems to be at odds with the captain’s very personage in a way that makes his skin crawl. 

“If I rehhfuse?” Elias questions, lifting his thumb to swipe away a stray tear threatening to escape. The action spreads the buzzing deeper into his sinuses, a gasp breaking between his clenched teeth. Peter echos the inhale with a sharp breath of his own, turning the exhale into a chuckle.

“I suppose you could…” The sentence is unfinished, lingering in the air with almost as much irritation as the pollen. Neither need finish it, they both know the unspoken words ring true. But you won’t.

Another hitch breaks through his defenses as Elias feels his eyes start to shut, the familiar itch spreading out through his mind matching the burn in his sinuses. The all consuming itch to observe. To watch. 

“hihH-!” A finger presses against his nose, then two, until his whole palm is pressed against his face in an effort to block the cascade of tickles lining each breath. However before long his wrist is encased in a soft grip, Peter gently pulling it away from his face. 

“You saihhd nothing about not being able t- to… haHh- touch my n- nohh… nose.” 

“That’s because it’s not a rule. But if you’ll recall, I’m allowed to do whatever I desire with my weapon,” Peter chuckles again, wiping another tear that had broken free, Elias feeling his nose give a violent twitch in response. “And your hand was in the way of that.” 

Bringing the blossom up, Peter twirls it between his fingers, a faint horror flashing through Elias’s eyes as a fresh wave of pollen spreads through the air. He wants to hold his breath, but a touch of moisture starts to spread through his nose, the sensation nearly sending him over the edge. Peter isn’t holding his wrist anymore, and yet his hands seem to be frozen in place.

Before he can make a choice, Peter brings the lavender to his face, gently flicking it against one nostril. It manages to touch the inside of his nose leaving his mouth twitching and eyes snapping shut. The constant buzzing of his thoughts are suddenly swarmed with one single word. Sneeze. 

“eh’KSHH’ieu-!”

The first crawls out before Elias can raise a hand, but his fingers tighten across his nose in time to stifle the next, “hk’nGT-! ek’gNKT’dieu-!” that seize his breath. From atop the desk he manages to pick up Peter’s voice, though for the life of him he can’t make out any words between shaky gasps.

“hk’nngt’ieu-!”

“Elias, the stifling,” Peter starts, pausing as Elias manages to cast a watery glare. He offers a grin dripping with playful mischief. And yet, a hint of sincerity just below the calm darkness gives Elias the will to stall the impending sneezes long enough for Peter to finish. “You really don’t want to do that, trust me." 

“I’m quihhte.. hh’kngt-! quite sure my n- nohh… eh’dnxt-ngXT’ieu-! nose would disagree,” Elias manages, fingers still tightly gripping said nose. Each stifle brings forth a new wave of irritation, his eyes begging to open between each outburst. 

The Eye never seemed keen on something that would force his eyes shut. Unfortunately for his patron, it seems allergies were not something even body hopping could outrun. Elias often found himself figuring it as some sort of cosmic joke, or perhaps a punishment. Whatever the case, it led to quite famous attacks, no matter what body he found himself in. 

“Actually I believe your nose would be on my side with this matter,” Peter insists, running a single finger down the bridge of said appendage as Elias finds his mouth hanging open, tears now freely streaming from his delicate lashes. “Though your eyes might have a few complaints.” 

“hIHh-! P- Peter I cahhn’t… I’m… I’m gonna-” Elias feels his nostrils flare, each breath bringing a fresh wave of thickly sweetened air. His sinuses practically hiss in response to Peter tracing a single nail across them. “hh’kNGT’ieu-!”  

Before he can even manage a full breath, the tip of the lavender is pressed against his nose, Peter stroking it back and forth in a motion that has Elias damn near moaning. A light chuckle falls from the captain’s lips, the vibrations travelling through his hand into the stem. Elias just gasps in response, not capable of much else at this point. “hehHH-” 

“Much as I’m enjoying watching you prolong your own misery, I’m a bit of a perfectionist. My goal was to make you sneeze, and honestly those little squeaks feel like a hollow victory. I’m going more for the real thing.” 

“heHH-! I- I hhhave to… ahH!”

“Yes, I imagine you do.” With that, Peter sets the blossom back on the desk, pulling Elias’s chair closer until they’re sitting eye to eye. With a single fluid motion Peter secures both wrists, Elias only managing to mutter out a groan of disapproval before his features go slack. “Now, have I earned my show yet, or do you need a bit more convinc-”

“hH’KSHH’ieu-! ek’TISHhhieew-!”

Elias aims for his shoulder, spinning as far as he can manage while Peter holds his wrists hostage. Still polite, even in the midst of an allergy attack, an apology scrapes out before another desperate “heHKZSHHuh-!” 

“See, doesn’t that feel better?”

“My- my haahhh… hands! aH’KNZSH’dieuu-! ”

“Oh right,” Peter says, releasing his arms and grinning again as Elias frantically brings them to his face. Rubbing his nose against a wrist doesn’t seem to relieve the itch. Instead, Elias switches to mashing a palm against it with a groan.

“Can you imagine if people found out the ‘All Powerful Elias’ was completely taken down by a single bloom of lavender?” 

“dTZSHhhuh-!” A wave of irritation flashes through Elias’s face, though it’s unclear whether it’s from the tickle or Peter’s words.

His lashes flutter again, voice hoarse and wavering as he manages to get out a single sentence. “Oh christ, don’t even say the w- word… hh’ETSHhhieew-!”  

“Sorry, sorry. It’s quite amusing though. Not often I get to see this shade of red cross your face.”

“Glad you’re… hehh- hH’INZSH-! entertained,” Elias mutters, rummaging through his pockets with growing urgency. Apparently not finding his prize, he turns an accusatory gaze to Peter. “Do you happ- happen-” 

Elias pauses, stuck in an itchy limbo that seems to consume him. Peter waits a full minute, but soon it becomes clear there will be no progress without interference. With a glint in his eye, he reaches down and runs his nail down the bridge of Elias’s nose.

“hk’TISHH’dieu-! huhhh… heH-”

A breath, cautious sniff, then Elias attempts to resume his sentence, only to groan in frustration as the tickle chooses this moment to resurge. “Thank- eh’KSHH’ieu-! guhh…”  

Holding a wrist up to his nose, Elias coughs lightly, the water in his eyes seeming to take on a luminescent tint. Clearing his throat, he attempts to regain some of his long forsaken propriety. “As I was saying, do you happen to hahh… fuck- ih’GZSH-!”

“Elias Bouchard! What language! Even on my ship we don’t resort to such a foul tongue,” Peter taunts, savouring the scowl Elias aims his way. It’s soon overtaken by another desperately ticklish look as Elias buries his face into his collar for another round. 

“hihHZSHHhiew-! Oh bloody hell- kNGSHH’dieu-!” 

“Bless. Into your collar Elias?”

“I didn’t have much of- of a… ek’NZSH-! choice. Seems I’ve misplaced my handkerchief today.”

“Oh dear, that certainly does seem like an inconvenience,” Peter murmurs, letting his mouth contort into a grin as his tongue traces the outline of his lips. Elias offers an exasperated sigh in return.

“Quite. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. 

“ehH-! Really, agaihhhn?” Rolling his eyes, Elias reaches for his collar as the tickle swells once more, shooting the lavender a pointed glare before his eyes glaze over. “hH’KZSH’ieu-!”

“Blessings. You know what, I think I just so happen to have an extra today. Would you be interested in-” Before he can get another word out Elias has ripped the cloth from his hand, burying his face in the soft folds for another “eh’YIZSHieww-!” 

He lets a couple blows scrape out into the cloth, a heady sigh bursting from his chest as he finishes, managing to actually get some airflow through his nose. The sound leaves them both wincing, but it’s better than nothing. It also seems to mark the end of the fit, though Elias still eyes the blossom laying on the table with more than a hint of caution. 

“Are you planning on… disposing of that?”

Peter follows his gaze, another unsettling laugh spilling out as he crushes the flower in his palm. “I would be happy to. After all, it served its purpose well.”

“Well. In that case, I suppose there’s only one matter of business left to attend to before this ‘meeting’ comes to a conclusion.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Peter asks, head tilting as he watches Elias dab at his eyes with a clean section of the cloth. Once he’s content, he brings it down to his scarlet tinged nose to give it another deep scrub. Peter gestures to his face with a smirk. “If it’s the handkerchief, you can keep it.”

“How kind. No, I was thinking more of your prize.”

“My prize?” 

“Indeed. You did win the challenge af- after… afterall- hhK’IEZSHuh-!”

Elias lets out another groan, a few curses following on its tail as he blows his nose again, the whole ordeal leaving him sniffling. Peter can’t help but feel a pang in his chest as Elias leans back in his chair with a heavy sigh, letting his eyes close in a way that just looks exhausted.

“How about you owe me a favour. I’m sure I can think of something I’d want,” Peter offers, a softness in his tone that has Elias opening a single eye to observe the captain.

After a long pause, Elias simply nods, returning his head to the back of his chair as his eyes drift shut once more. Peter stands, offering a wave over his shoulder as he doesn’t quite walk out the door, but still exits the room. 

“Thanks for the fun, Elias. Let’s do this again soon.”

[kyluxtrashpit]

No morals just memes anon offers a very strange image in an attempt to cheer you up.

6’2” gym bro Crime Spree holding a takeout bag while standing on top of the car terrified screaming “kill it!” while 5’2’ skinny insta model looking Meme Lord tries to fend off a fucking gator with the leg of a bar stool while yelling “fuck off you scaly bath salts looking ass bitch!”. I am inside the other car thinking wtf.

In other news, our road trip is off to a great start. More antics to come if you’re interested.

So uh I had put all the road trip asks in here, copied and pasted you know, to just kind of keep the whole story together and deleted the originals. Except. Tunglr did that thing the new post editor does where some secret button sequence just fucking deletes the entire thing you just typed (and I didn't have anything in the clipboard anymore) SO unfortunately the full chaos I guess will remain only with me (might be for the best, given uh the whole bag of guns thing XD) but anyway lmfao it truly sounded like an absolutely insane time, I'm glad you all returned in one piece and hopefully had an enjoyable time

Also for some reason I forgot you were in Canada and that all of your stories are thus also in Canada and for some reason this has thrown me for a loop cause the US, you know, it's just chaos down there, all sounds like typical american stuff, it's just a terrifying country where terrifying things happen. BUT YOU GUYS ARE UP HERE. WITH ME. Lmfao idk why but it just added another layer of awe and fear to the whole thing XD

Anyway, thank you for the updates, they have provided me much cheer in recent times and I always look forward to them (even though I'm slow sometimes OTL)

[saiakv]

are they a home-cooking kind of person, or do they rather get takeouts? (honestly i just want all the tea about him and the girls cooking together that is all)

headcanon prompt :that I can't find to link the source-

Moving from the dorms to the cult compound was not a linear process. The first thing Suguru did on the next day of the massacre was withdraw his funds from bank accounts the school had access to, so for some time he was living in hotel rooms and rented appartments without a kitchen or with a barely functional one. Now, he is not proud of it, but that meant they had to rely on takeout a lot. A stack of brochures followed them from one hotel room to another for a while.

But even so, he had found some strange comfort in the way his girls learned to navigate food delivery so quickly; and they were very opinionated. Both of them were, but especially Nanako. Suguru spoiled them during that time because he felt awful for not being able to provide them with a stable environment, so Nanako had free reign over what they eat at times ( his heart did swell watching her build her confidence and call to order herself, for one thing ) At one point an unfortunate coincidence where Nanako's favorite crepe place coincided with an item on the menu Mimiko was hyperfixating on. Suguru had to eat crepes for a week straight as a result.

After they acquire stable accomodation at TVA owned penthouses, Suguru begun experimenting with the kitchen. Things were still busy but he wanted to wean them off of junk food, so there would be a lot of furious stir frying with the phone wedged between ear & shoulder and cutting himself whilst dicing too fast because he had to meet up with his secretary. Overall, it was hectic. His previous cooking experience included instant ramen, jello shots and a poor attempt at a cake for Satoru's birthday that him & Shoko had undertaken once. So, the girls quickly took matters into their own hands.

The girls were already pretty independent, having grown up with nothing but each other to rely on. So it didn't take long for them to start partaking. Soon, Suguru was confined to the cutting board and hoisting one of them up to reach the top shelves. He did not mind it at all. Nanako was often the one giving direction with Mimiko providing very acute insight after taste tests and he was there to chop up the veggies for their stir fry and clean up after they fell asleep during movie time with a full stomach. He'd pick at their leftovers and do the dishes; and he would feel a strange sense of peace settle over him when the counters were clean and the girls tucked in bed and sent off to dreamland with a kiss over their forehead.

Eventually Manami begun to help, the girls took over completely and he rarely cooked for them in the end. Sometimes they wanted takeout or to visit a place that was trending; and Suguru never said no, even if he did not partake unless they asked him to.

Because how could he deny them? When he was at his lowest point trying to rebuild himself anew, it was Mimiko's hand that gave him a towel to wipe his fresh chopping cut with and it was Nanako that tasted the soup in case he'd slipped up in his thoughts and poured too much salt. It was these girls that made him soba on his birthday, with noodles rolled from their own hands. It was these girls that sneaked in his room with late night snacks for when he forgot to eat and it was these girls that took pictures with him laughing with flour powdered noses. And if they want to eat pancakes at Harajuku with all the monkeys, he can do that for them.

[maruzzewrites]

monster & mortal.

second part; ship | the moments right after the crash of the spaceship seen by astarion. cw: mentions of abuse

One has to be unlucky in life if the event that could be defined as the best is being kidnapped by aberrations and infected with a parasite.

However, there was no other definition for what Astarion felt the moment he opened his eyes and he had to get used to the light of the sun all over again.

Strangely enough, it doesn’t hurt him the same way it burned when he attempted to be touched by its rays back in the mansion, it doesn’t hurt as if his skin was melted away by acid. It simply is too much, too sun, and his body forgot the gentle caress of the kind sun.

He shields his eyes with his hand. They’re sensible to the light, but they quickly dart in all directions as he looks all over to this beach with no survivors and plenty of debris. What remains of the spaceship that caught him back in the city lays in a wreckage, part on the sand and part in the water, long tentacles still twitching like a sea monster begging for life.

Little brains on limbs crawl in the distance, as if they are mere animals belonging to this land. Corpses both alien and humanoid are scattered all around. In this absurdity, Astarion finds his normalcy again.

It takes a few minutes for it to truly sink into his mind.

He is awake, out of the prison that is Baldur’s Gate and he is standing under the light of the sun unscratched. He finds his footing again, balancing on his legs after such a high fall is not as easy for the body as one would think, and then he paces around.  

The sun feels heavy on his exposed skin, there is fresh air flowing from the sea and embracing him with its careless strength, and the sound of life screeches all around – from bees to seagulls to fast fishes jumping over imaginary arches.

The world turns and, for once, he is part of it.

For once he isn’t busy worrying about what will happen as soon as he returns to Cazador, for once he won’t have to count his blessings if he was fed instead of letting be starved for one more day. And for once, he doesn’t care to know how he has made it, how this is possible.

He ignores the implications of all of this, he has no explanation for it at all. He simply knows that the sun is annoying to withstand after all this time, and he could easily find shelter under the shade of a tree, but he needs that warmth to seep into his flesh and stay there. He wants to commit it to memory, the smell of the salt and the sensation of the sand shifting under his boots.

He isn’t the type to dance around, but he enjoys the moment. He is so tempted to drink the water straight out of the sea to feel it salty and disgusting, if it means it won’t turn into dust under his tongue. He will hunt and feast on rats, but this time by choice and because of need.

No, not need. Want.

That makes him feel himself, that makes him feel alive and wonderful right this instant. It’s the want to have more, to feel this sun and to experience this wind, to eat fruits again and to drink wine until he isn’t himself anymore. It doesn’t matter anymore what he needs, because he needs nothing and it was that need that made him survive.

Now he is alive, he can just want. It doesn’t matter if he will drink blood or not, only if he wants it; and it doesn’t matter if he will lay down to sleep or not, until he wants it, and now he can have it.

It’s incredible how the most unfortunate of event could be his fortune, in the end.

[monterraverde]

🍡 - Can your muse cook? Can they bake? How well can they do either? Do they have any kitchen disaster stories?

She knows enough cooking to make simple meals like pasta and packaged ramen- and pokemon treat waffles- but any attempt to break out of that results in scorched pans and wasted food. Baking is not something she's tried, unfortunately, and she's too scared to make the attempt for fear of setting her oven on fire.

One time she set a pot on fire because she left water to boil and then totally forgot about it, which caked salt to the bottom of the pan and nearly had the fire department called- Never again.

[aemonds-sapphire]

Make a Wish - Hawks x Reader

Summary: You finally asked Hawks to show how flying felt like; he ended up showing you a lot more.

Warnings: Fluff. Cavity-inducing fluff. Friends to lovers.

Word count: 2.1k

“Don’t drop me.”

“Oh! Thanks for reminding me,” Hawks said teasingly, spreading his arms. “Now, come here.”

Against your better judgment, you decided to ask the number two pro hero to take you on a short flight. Even after years of being friends with Hawks, it still took a leap of faith to trust him with something like this.

You didn’t budge, feet rooting you to the ground. “Promise?”

You knew deep down that he would never allow such thing to happen, but fear gripped your heart and lungs.

He wiggled his gloved fingers in an attempt to snap you out of your frozen state, beaming smile spreading his lips. “Why would I drop you? I love you!”

There it was.

Those three words that he’d often toss around mindlessly, and that you wondered far too many time whether it was just a proclamation of his friendship with you, or if there was something else underneath.

“Why are you frowning?” Hawks’ arms dropped to his sides as he stuck out his bottom lip. “You don’t love me? I’m hurt.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “Shut up. Let’s do this before it gets too late.”

He reached inside his aviator jacket and snatched a pair of headphones. “Put these on. I don’t want your eardrums busted.”

What a comforting thing to say to someone who was about to be swung up in the air in the middle of the night.

“Anyways! Now I’m matching with the famous pro hero Hawks,” you teased, finally getting your feet to move closer to where he stood. “I wonder what your fans would say.”

His big red wings quivered slightly. “Oh, so you think they’d be upset that I’m taking a beautiful girl on a ride?” he feigned concern before winking at you.

“Should we ask?” you grinned in defiance as you positioned the protective headphones over your ears.

He lifted his arms once more as if offering you a welcoming hug. With a deep sigh, you shortened the distance between you two. It was now or never.

You laced your arms around his neck as your chest hit his. Unfortunately for you, this was enough to get your heart to skip a beat.

“Hold up,” Hawks said, raising a brow. “I forgot to bring another eye visor for you. Damn.”

Your palms started getting sweaty from how warm he felt against you, but you had to push that aside for now.

“It’s fine. I’ll just keep my eyes closed.”

He brought his hands up to retrieve his own visor. “And miss the amazing view? Can’t have that,” he beamed while placing it snuggly on you. “Besides, I know these airways like the back of my wings.”

The visor tinted your field of vision with pale yellow, but since it was already dark, it didn’t make much of a difference.

You adjusted it across the bridge of your nose, and offered a smile before looping your arms around him again.

Hawks was staring at you like you were his pride and joy. “There! Seems like we got ourselves another winged hero.”

“Except I have no wings, you dumbass,” you noted, laughing.

“You have mine,” he winked in response. “Now, I need you to wrap your legs around my waist.”

Your smile faded slightly. Very poor choice of words.

“Just hop on me,” Hawks added, seeing the confused look on your face.

You took a deep breath and bent your knees slightly, just to have your legs spring up and circle his body just as requested.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear, both arms tightly holding you. “Ready?”

Your heart skipped two beats; one for because how he had just praised you, even if he hadn’t meant to make it sound like that; the other because the question he had shot at you.

You nodded, propping your chin on his shoulder, instinctively closing your eyes as he took a few steps to stand on the edge of the the rooftop of your apartment.

One hand rubbed your back for a bit as if preparing you. “This part is the worst. But it’ll get better soon.”

“Just go!” you half-shouted impatiently.

And before you could even register what was about to happen, you felt your stomach lurch upwards as he took a dive off the building.

Just as you were about to scream, you felt the air change in direction when his two colossal wings suddenly hurled you up into the night sky. Your insides rolled once again as the young man defied gravity. Was he also defying your ability to keep your food down?

The white fur that lined collar of his jacket would occasionally tickle your cheek as the wind fanned the both of you. For a while, all you could hear were the strong flaps of his wings, and even though you had been flying for a while, you couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes.

Hawks’ grip on you never wavered, and neither did yours. Your legs were completely glued around his toned torso just like your arms kept tightening around his neck.

“You okay?” You heard his muffled voice.

You gave him a thumbs up, still keeping your eyes closed.

His hand started patting your lower back. “Open your eyes!”

How did he...

Carefully and slowly, you opened one eye at a time. Hawks had brought you so far up high that all you could see when looking down were faint rivers of city lights spreading as far as the eyes could see.

His wings drifted expertly across the chilling wind, bending into different angles whenever Hawks intended on shifting directions.

Everything was breathtaking. Your fear was replaced with excitement as you felt for the first time ever what it was like to be him.

Soon after, you watched as he started lowering himself towards a very tall building.

Both his wings shot upwards, allowing the wind to flow through them and allowing him to prepare for what came next

He gracefully landed on the rooftop, bending both wings close to his body.

A part of you was relieved, but another was ready for more.

“You know...” he started slowly, still holding you in place with his strong arms. “As much as I like this position—“

“Uh!” you huffed in annoyance as you promptly let your legs slide down his body, bringing your hand to his chest to push him away. “Pervert...”

“Just teasing you!”

His voice was coming out muffled, and you suddenly remembered you still had the headphones on; you pulled them down to rest around your neck much like Hawks would often do. The visor came off next and he took it back with a smile.

“How was it?” he was looking at you expectantly as he placed the visor on top of his head, a few strands of golden hair going astray in the process.

You flapped your hands along your jacket and pants to set everything back in place again. Your body was still coming down from that high, and you could still feel the surges of adrenaline rushing through your veins.

“Very... weird?” you said truthfully, rubbing both hands together from the cold breeze. “But in a good way! You’re approved!” you quickly added when you saw his smile waver.

“You cold? Want my jacket?”

Ever the gentleman. “Just my hands...”

He immediately slid his gloves off and handed them to you.

“No! What about you?” you asked worriedly.

“It’s okay! I’m hot,” he shrugged, wiggling his eyebrows at the not so subtle innuendo.

You stuck out your tongue at him, slipping both hands inside the warm fabric. You then turned on your heels to explore the rooftop and beautiful scenery.

“This makes me feel so...”

“Free?” you heard him suggest from behind you.

You agreed in silence. Up there it seemed like nothing could ever reach you. Then it hit you.

Hawks longed for freedom more than anyone else. It was painfully ironic how he was gifted with a set of wings, but was still caged by his own morals.

Looking up, you saw bright specs of stars sprinkled across the night sky, some of them framing a bright and round moon.

“Do you bring every single girl here?”

He chuckled, slightly taken aback by your change of topic. “Only the ones I want to impress.”

You scoffed. “You don’t need to do that to impress anyone,” the words automatically left your mouth, and you inwardly cursed at yourself for the slip.

“Oh? Is that a compliment?” Hawks took the opportunity to rub salt on the wound as it was so typical of him.

You shifted your eyes to the horizon that was lined by a row of light of a nearby city, feigning sudden interest.

“So... are you?” he drawled from beside you.

“Am I what?”

This time you turned your head to face him, and you had to mentally slap yourself as you were met with his handsome face.

He flashed you a boyish smile. “Impressed.”

“Very. Thank you for bringing me here... this is beautiful.”

You were about to shift your gaze back to admire the amazing view when his hand grasped your arm.

“Hey, you have something on your face.”

“Huh? What?” you panicked.

“Come here.”

Hawks leaned in, his brows furrowed. “Ah!”

“What?!”

He merely smiled as he brought a hand to your face, his thumb grazing your skin and sending jolts of electricity down your spine.

Oh.

You saw a thin and slightly curved strand on the tip of his finger. An eyelash.

“Make a wish,” Hawks said excitedly.

“You serious?” you widened your eyes at him, but almost did a mental backflip at the sweetness of it all.

He didn’t reply; instead, he brought his thumb close to your face.

You puckered your lips, but he promptly pressed his index finger on them effectively stopping you.

“Eyes closed,” he whispered, looking far too serious. “You’re gonna jinx it otherwise.”

You arched an eyebrow at him, but did exactly what he asked. Once more, you brought your lips together, allowing a swift breeze of air to flow through them.

Wishing upon lashes... this was so... Hawks. You quickly thought of him. No specific details... just him.

“Keep them closed.”

“Why?” You inquired suspiciously.

His face was close to yours as his hot breath fanned your skin. “You gotta wait fifteen seconds for it to stick.”

“You just made that—“

You were cut off by a pair of lips covering yours. Your eyes shot open in surprise as his mouth slanted firmly against your own, causing a wave of warmth to pool in your stomach and a faint shiver to course down your entire body.

Thinking back, you had wished for this moment for a long time. Well, not this one in particular, but your mind managed to come up with very vivid images of Hawks slamming you against a wall only to finally kiss you; or maybe as you both gazed at the sun setting just like in those romantic movies where everything always worked out in the end.

But this was so much better.

It was far better, because of how unexpected it was. Your heart was beating so fast that you could hear the rhythmic pounding in your ears. Once you got over the initial shock, you let your eyes flutter shut as he deepened the kiss, one hand at the nape of your neck, pulling you into his embrace.

Maybe this was the universe’s way of laughing at you. A moment ago you were laughing at the idea of wishing upon eyelashes. It seemed like a childish thing to do, but here you were. You had wished for him, and he was here.

Hawks’ hand splayed across your lower back as the other slid forward to have his thumb caressing your cheek.

A raw moan tore from your throat as you felt all of him pressed up against you, and Hawks followed soon after, a soft groan rumbling through his chest.

Instinctively, you dragged your hands through his thick locks, completely forgetting about the visor resting on his head. Before you could process it, you heard a loud shatter as the fragile object hit the ground.

Fuck.

You broke the kiss at once. “Oh my god... I’m sorry!”

Hawks was glaring at you through hooded golden eyes, and you swore you had never seen that hungry look on his face before. His trademark markings that framed both eyes on both corners were lightly accentuated, and that alone was enough to make him even more alluring.

“It’s fine!” he hurriedly mumbled.

He was leaning for another kiss, but then you smacked his arm as you realized what had just happened. “You asshole! What took you so long?”

“W-what?” the young pro hero looked genuinely confused. “I could say the same to you!”

You pulled him into a hug.

Hawks relaxed against your touch. “I love you.”

Those words yet again... “Do you mean it this time?”

“Always have.”

-

Masterlist

[eclipsetickles]

"The Impossible Task" - (Platonic OdaChuZai)

Ehe happy Halloween everyone! Enjoy <333

Word count: 1850

“So, you understand your assignment… Right, Sakunosuke?”

“Yes, boss. I’ll do my best.”

“Perfect! They’ve been at each other's throats non-stop lately. Of course I don’t mind my employees having a little fight, I actually consider it rather entertaining, but these two can’t go even a few seconds without trying to kill the other. I’d rather not lose any executives.” Mori lamented in a fairly tired tone, clearly very tired from witnessing the constant arguing and roughhousing between Dazai and Chuuya.

Oda stood in front of Mori, shifting weight from foot to foot as he waited for Mori to dismiss him, though it seemed said boss had become distracted by Elise, who had been lurking behind him the entire time, attempting to scare the older man. Unfortunately she had only succeeded in making Mori fuss over her and how cute she looked in her Halloween costume, and as a result forgot Oda existed.

“Boss.” Oda hesitantly called out to Mori, causing him to jump a little as he looked towards the tall redheaded man before him.

“Ah yes. My apologies. You’re free to go. Good luck on your task.” The moment he finished speaking, his attention was back on Elise. Barely spared even a moment to dismiss Oda properly. The mafioso in question didn’t mind too much however. Really, it was a huge privilege to be able to take on a task involving both Chuuya and Dazai considering the fact that he was the lowest-ranking mafia member.

Oda bowed in Mori’s direction (despite the other not seeing it) and swiftly turned around, exiting the spacious room through the large doors, and into the long, winding hallway filled with guards. Really, Oda was thankful to be able to leave such a tense feeling place. Unfortunately, the assignment awaiting him just outside the doors of the Port Mafia building was much more daunting. Let’s just say that the pair known as “double black” was an incredibly powerful duo who needed each other like curry needed rice, but it was basically impossible for them to get along in a setting where their lives weren’t at stake. They were night and day, sugar and salt, hot and cold, pretty much polar opposites. Oda had been trying long before Mori took notice (let’s just say the “get along shirt” was a complete failure), and frankly he was running out of ideas. He had just one left though. How could anyone be angry or fight while at an amusement park? Especially a Halloween one!

-

“OH FUCK OFF DAZAI! WHY DON’T YOU FIND A NICE BRIDGE TO JUMP OFF OF?”

“This is an amusement park, idiot. Last time I checked there were none.”

“AS SOON AS WE GET OUTTA HERE, I’LL PERSONALLY FIND YOU ONE!”

Right, should have known that basically nothing would stop those two. The kids really loved amusement parks, but they were just orphaned children, not angry mafioso ability users. He even bought them snacks thinking it would at least shut them up for 5 minutes, but unfortunately he wasn’t that lucky. At this point Oda was ready to report back to the PM and tell Mori his mission was impossible (and deal with the consequences of failing, which definitely weren’t pretty). That was until their argument took a turn.

“So pathetic! God. I bet you wouldn’t even be able to make it halfway through that haunted house over there!” Dazai taunted, a confident smirk adorning his face (the same smirk that Chuuya was this close to shattering by sending a flying kick to his face).

“HAH?! WHAT’D YOU SAY, JACKASS? I BET 10 BUCKS THAT I CAN GO THROUGH THERE WITHOUT EVEN FLINCHING!” Chuuya yelled at the brunette as if he wasn’t standing 3 feet in front of him.

“Make it 15 and you’ve got a deal.” It seemed like Dazai was very entertained by this turn of events and accepted the challenge with open arms.

“Deal!! I’ll show you, asshole! I’m a man, I can handle a stupid gimmick with a bunch of teenegers dressed up as zombies and shit. Come on!” Oda looked up from the ground and stood up to join them as they made their way over to the line for the haunted house that’s now become more of a challenge than entertainment.

“Ick… They sure make the cobwebs in this place realistic. Either that or they don’t clean it very often. That’s pretty scary in itself.” Dazai muttered as he stepped through the doors with the other two a step or two behind.

“If you find that scary, I’ll win this bet easily! Right, Oda?” Chuuya gloated, looking up at the relaxed man for validation. Not wanting to stir up another fight, Oda answered as carefully as possible.

“Mm… We’ll see.” The tallest of the three replied casually as they made their way into the labyrinth of flashing lights and decorations within the building. Even just a few steps in, Oda noticed both Dazai and Chuuya tense up a little. Were they scared already?

Cutting off Oda’s thoughts, a chainsaw wielding clown jumped out in front of them, revving up what was very clearly a fake weapon. Despite that, the two screamed out loud in unison, and Oda had to hold Chuuya back from attacking said clown.

As they ventured further in, even more actors in costume appeared, some reaching out from behind bars of a cage, some screaming in their faces, and even a few trying to grab their ankles. Really, Oda thought it was all rather entertaining… That was until he noticed the two practically clinging to him absolutely trembling. That wasn’t part of the plan. They’re mafiosos who’ve seen countless unspeakable things and have probably participated in such, so who knew they would be so shaken by this?

Frowning a bit in concern, Oda placed a hand on their shoulders and noticed them softly flinch. Maybe Chuuya and Dazai were more similar than he thought.

“Are you guys okay? You look scared.” He questioned, taken a bit aback by the speed at which Chuuya’s head whipped upward to look him dead in the eye.

“I’M NOT SCARED!! I just… eh…” Whatever half assed excuse Chuuya had ended up disappearing as his words trailed off. Oda took this as an indication he shouldn’t bug Chuuya for an answer.

“Dazai?” The brunette looked towards the ground the moment his name was mentioned, looking as if he couldn’t handle too much more of the constant jumpscares. Oda took a moment to look around while holding onto both of them to provide at least a little comfort. Damn… No exits other than the one at the very end. They were too far in to turn around and leave out the entrance, and they would have to endure everything they passed all over again. Protective dad mode took over Oda’s mind and he came up with an idea to get them out without stressing them out further.

“Alright. Close your eyes. I’ll guide you guys through the rest of this. We’ll be out soon, okay?” He spoke the instructions to them gently, and reluctantly, both Dazai and Chuuya clinged onto one of Oda’s arms and closed their eyes, following his lead.

This seemed to help a bit, but the loud noises and screaming still seemed to affect them. There was no way to keep them from hearing the scares around them… but maybe distraction would help-

Moving his hands to their sides, he began gingerly wiggling his fingers against them and the response was instant. Both mafiosos let out a squeal of surprise and descended into giggling fits. The tickling wasn’t intense enough that they would have a difficult time walking, but just enough of a sensation to make them squirm a bit and make them forget about their spooky surroundings.

“O-ODASAKUHU! Hehey!!” Dazai protested through bubbly laughter, holding onto Oda’s arm a little tighter as if it would save him. He was very wrong.

Chuuya however didn’t say a word. Honestly he was too busy trying to softly smack away Oda’s hand with a huge sweet smile adorning his once frightened features. Hm… So it was working! Letting out a chuckle at their reactions, he moved to their stomachs, eliciting a snort from Chuuya, who was trying to find a way to escape Oda’s playful attack without opening his eyes or letting go of his arm.

“OI..!! CUHUT THIS OHOUT! GET DUMBAHAHAS OVER THERE, NOT MEHEHE!” Chuuya complained in a half assed manner. It was clear he wasn’t too bothered though considering the fact he could have knocked Oda out for this effortlessly but chose to endure it.

The scare actors in the general area all seemed to be a bit stunned by the sudden bursts of bubbly laughter, and even a few broke character to go take a look at what was happening. Oda paid them no mind, and the two giggly mafia men likely didn’t even notice. Really they were too focused on trying to continue walking through the scribbly sensations.

Though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, Oda actually thought the way the two were laughing in such a carefree manner was really adorable. They were very complicated people, hardened and desensitized to violence and so many other atrocious things, yet one thing that could somehow slip past their tough defenses was a little tickle fight (though it seemed like less of a fight and more a one-sided attack. Practically the same thing in his mind).

“Odaaaa no fahahair!!” Dazai whined. Glancing down at him with ever monotone eyes, Oda decided that if he can complain, he likely wasn’t getting the right spot. Seamlessly he switched to Dazai’s upper ribs and his laughter jumped an octave or two. Heh… That’s a little better.

“Mafia executives that can’t handle some tickling… Man. The boss would probably love to know about this…” Oda mused aloud, causing a sudden flood of protests from the two clinging onto his arms, bringing a soft smile to his face.

Easing up on them a little, both Chuuya and Dazai quieted down a bit and had a moment to breathe. Dazai slowly opened his eyes, taken aback by the brightness of the sun. somehow, through all that chaos, they’d made it through!

“Chuuya… You can open your eyes now.” Letting out a noise of confusion, Chuuya did as he was told, only to have the exact same reaction as Dazai. Suppose those two really are similar.

“Oh- Eh. We’re out. Good. Smelled like plastic in there…” Chuuya mumbled as a way to hide the fact that he was actually quite scared by said place. Nice save, Chuuya.

“Oh don’t give us that. You were scared shitless! You were this close to crying the whole time!” Dazai mocked, making various unflattering faces at Chuuya, who squawked in annoyance and denied it all. The absurdity of the situation caused the two to break and laugh at the whole thing together like friends would. Oda was a little taken aback, but smiled regardless. Maybe this wasn’t an impossible task after all.

“So, about that 15 dollars-”

[chaoticorganizedmess]

Cold Shoulder🧊

| Masterlist | Shouto Masterlist | Navigation |

Todoroki attempts to help soothe you.

Warning: None. Just fluff.

You knew those snacks were a bad idea. However you aren't one to study without having something to munch on. This time you figured you happened to pick wrong. The snack you picked had rather hard pieces that were tough to chew. Even though that was earlier in the day, here you were at the end of the night sitting on a couch in the common area clutching the right side of your jaw.

Your tooth had been aching for hours now. Going to the dentist always made you rather anxious, so you were putting off going to get it looked at until tomorrow. Thinking it was gonna go away you didn't bother to get help either. Now that you waited, it's late and you don't wanna bother anyone. You hid in your dorm room for most of the day so that you didn't have to endure speaking with anyone.

You sat cross-legged on the couch as you popped a pain reliever and washed it down with your peppermint tea. You were trying everything to relieve what you were feeling. You had a small ice pack that unfortunately seemed to keep thawing too fast. Besides the medication and tea, you also tried a salt water rinse. Any relief would result in pain just a short time later. You let out a whine as you sat there feeling sorry for yourself.

🧊🔥

Shouto had been stressing a bit over the upcoming testing himself. He had been having trouble sleeping so he went down to get a drink of water. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you sitting alone on the couch. Shouto had been crushing on you since the two of you started school together. You were the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Not that you knew any of that. Though Shouto was a simple man, feelings weren't something he was good at.

As he took a few careful steps your way his look of adoration changed to concern. He could tell something was wrong with you before he noticed you clutching the opposite side of your face. "[Name]?", he called out quietly in hopes he didn't scare you. He wasn't fully successful though. You jumped a bit at hearing your name and when you looked you almost forgot about all the pain in your jaw. There stood your crush, Todoroki, looking you over. His bottom lip bitten and eyebrows arched as a worried expression had washed over his normally stoic face.

"Todoroki?" You blinked at him a few times. "What're you doing up so late?", you managed to choke out, quickly remembering your pain. "I couldn't sleep. Are you okay?" He barely paused in between his answer and question. You simply shrugged before pointing at your face. "Bad toothache." Shouto simply gave a nod in acknowledgement. He didn't always pick up social cues but you were different for him. He didn't have to think about it when the words 'Can I do anything for you?' left his lips.

You forced a head shake through the pain. You certainly didn't want to be a bother to him. "Nah. Thanks anyways, Todoroki." Even though it hadn't been much, all the talking you had done in this bit of time really kicked the ache up a notch. A hiss left through your gritted teeth as you clutched your face once more. Shouto took a look at the now thawed cold pack on the table and stepped over to the couch. "Here.", was all he said when he took a seat and leaned back.

Before you knew it he had pulled you close to him, your right side tucked into his chest. He cradled your head to guide it gently to rest on his right shoulder. Your eyes had widened at his actions. Was Todoroki actually comforting you? A few moments later you understood. Suddenly your toothache was starting to feel some relief as the temperature of your skin along the side of your jaw began to cool rapidly.

Todoroki had activated his quirk, his most used right side, to act as your never-ending, human cold pack. You smiled as you tucked into him more. "Thank you, Todoroki."

Shouto had no problem pushing his nerves aside if it meant ridding you of discomfort. That fact that you had accepted him and not pushed him away thrilled him. He began to softly rub your back with his left hand. "Shouto." You looked up to him. Heterochromatic eyes peered down at you and you found he could fluster you with one simple look. Realizing you were wondering what he meant he elaborated. "You don't have to call me Todoroki. I'd like you to call me Shouto." 

To hell with the pain. You couldn't help the smile that grew ear to ear on your face. "Okay. Thank you, Shouto." If you thought you could already die happy, feeling Shouto plant a soft kiss on your head made you scream internally. You snuggled into him once more as he continued to run his warm hand up and down your back. You quickly found your eyelids were finally heavy as they began to close for much needed rest. Before you were out, however, you didn't miss Todoroki's last words to you. "Anything for you."

[rhys-daarling]

Nessian- pinned against the wall headcanon

Stepping out into the Illyrian camp, the cold biting her skin, Nesta could hear familiar voices.

Holding her head high, she walked into the training field. “Morning everyone” she gave a quick smile, and ensured she held no-ones gaze.

“Balthazar”. She gave her most flirty smile, the Illyrian, who had become a close friend, gave a friendly smile back.

In a bid to help better their views of women, the Valkyries and inner circle trained at the Illyrian camp a few days a week, Balthazar, since helping her during thewrite, had become good friend with Nesta.

“Should I ask why you’re over here” Balthazar asked, a smile smile playing on his lips as Nesta attempted to maintain her flirty demeanour and stretch, all whilst ensuring Cassian could see her.

She could hear Mor laughing, and Nesta resisted the urge to growl at her.

Her mating bond was chafing, and watching Mor train with Cassian, Nesta wanted to rip both of them to pieces.

She was being ridiculous she knew, but she couldn’t quell her jealousy, her possessiveness. She couldn’t stop picturing the two of them togther.

A fight had ensued, and here she stood.

“I take it you two haven’t made up yet then” Balthazar quipped.

“I need you to trust me, and go along with me” she whispered, so that her mate, who’s eyes were trained on her, did not overhear.

Balthazar’s eyes widened as Nesta began sliding a hand up his arm as if to admire the muscles underneath. Nesta had to grab his arm as he attempted to shake her off.

Cassian growled, and even from across the sparring field, she could feel his anger.

“Nesta I do not need the General to rip me to pieces with his bare hands because his mate wants to make him jealous” Balthazar held his fake smile in place, but his eyes were panicked.

Nesta rolled her eyes, trying to quell the rush of desire at the males terror. A reminder that her mate was lethal, that he would be written in history for his brutal strength and tact, revered across all seven courts for his feats in war.

“Nes, this is a bad idea. This won’t end well. The lack of sex has given you both short fuses” came Emerie’s voice, her friend usually the one who calmed everything, could see Cassian’s temper rising.

“I had to ask Gwyn to sleep over because I was worried I’d beg Cassian for sex in the middle of the night” Nesta snapped. Emeries lips began to twitch as she held in a laugh at both Netas outburst, and for poor Gwyn who had become an unwitting third wheel, and even Balthazar’s lips twitched.

“ I haven’t fucked my mate in over two weeks, so today i will use every skill and weapon in my arsenal to get him to throw in the towel” she huffed, her body so attuned to Cassian, she had to restrain herself from jumping onto his back and taking him right here.

“So you” she turned on Balthazar, squeezing his arm, even as she compared it as so much smaller than her mates. “Will pretend. You will let me flirt and antagonise my mate, and you can be assured he will be far too busy devouring every inch of me, to even remember to snarl at you”. Emerie snickered, but Nesta, who was now imagining Cassian and her on a kitchen table, was too distracted to care.

Nesta turned to Balthazar, putting both her hands on his chest, ignoring her friends grumble, and began to take deep breaths.

Cassian snarled again, and the sound of another Illyrian swearing told her that whoever had been unfortunate enough to spar against Cassian was taking the brunt of his anger.

Nesta smiled and slid closer to Balthazar, ignoring the scent that was all wrong, and focused on Cassian’s heavy breathing and snarls, imagining it was him she was chest to chest with instead.

“If you wanted him angry you can be rest assured that’s worked” muttered Balthazar. “He’s just taken four Illyrians to the floor” he shook his head, in wonder and part fear.

“Good, time to take it up a notch” she winked at him as she leaned to rest her head on his arm, and both jumped slightly at the sound of Cassian’s sword colliding with his opponents, imagining the power his angry stroke would have held to make such a sound.

“Don’t mind me” she said walking up to Feyre and Rhys, this close to her mate she could feel him shaking with rage. Feigning an innocent smile even as Feyre struggled to muffle her own laughter, she grabbed two swords.

She gave a quick dismissive look at Cassian, even as her blood heated. Sweat falling across Cassian’s heaving chest, his face terrifying and lined with such rage Nesta almost faltered. The three males he was sparring with dropped to the floor at his assault, all the while his eyes remained locked on Nesta.

As she walked back, she heard Morrigan drawl “Well this is interesting”.

“I agree cousin, a most interesting development” quipped Rhys, as she heard his footsteps come closer to her.

“Hello Rhysand”

“Nesta. Have you quite finished torturing my brother yet? Any longer and I’ll have no Illyrians left standing”. His voice laced with laughter and interest.

“He’s not grovelling yet, so no” she smirked, and he responded with a dark laugh.

She lowered her voice to a whisper to ensure no one else could hear. “Make sure Cassian doesn’t…”

She hesistated, unsure how to describe that she wanted his jealousy, but not to damage all the work he had done here.

“I’ve got him.” He assured. “I’m not sure what your plan is, and I trust you, but the minute I think it’s pushing him too far I’ll stop this” he warned, eyes soft but juggling the role of brother and high lord.

“I’m relying on that” she assured him, glad that he was here. “Thank you” she added with a small smile and laughed a little as he walked back to the others, remarking how far the two had come in their relationship together.

“Here” she handed Balthazar a sword, “I’m going to teach you some fighting stances” she smiled, and Balthazar shook his head and rolled his eyes.

She pressed her body into his side, stroking down his arm to hold the sword above his hand.

“Cheap move Nesta” Balthazar roller his eyes. His siphons glowed, as did the siphons of every Illyrian around her. Cassian she realised. Cassian’s rage had activated all seven of his siphons , and every Illyrian nearby had responded by battle readying, feeling threatened at the power in her mates veins.

Nesta smiled. She was walking such a fine line between his jealousy and that uncontrollable rage that all fae and Illyrians possessed. She knew Rhys was readying, monitoring Cassians every breath.

“Fine. Let’s spar”

They faced off, and after a few false dodges, Nesta ran at him.

Balthazar fell to the floor and Nesta fell next to him, her arms across his chest. “Shit” Balthazar heaved breathlessly.

A vicious snarl, so loud Nesta’s bones shook, pure terror on Balthazar’s face and the familiar scent of her mate swarmed her.

His wings cast a shadow, his huge body stalking and shaking, dark eyes ready to rip Balthazar to pieces.

“Shit” she heard Rhys mutter and a second later, her and Cassian were being winnowed, dumped in Rhys’s mothers house and Rhys winnowed away once more.

His body in front of her, every sense and thought eddied away from her as she inhaled his scent and the smell of his sweat, possessiveness, rage and from the flare oh his nostrils, he detected her arousal too.

“What are you playing at” he grit out, his voice so low and guttural she could barely understand. he stalked to her, chest to chest, her head tipped so far to look into his eyes.

“Training” she gasped, this close to his body, she could do nothing but feel Cassian envelope her every sense.

“Is that what you call it” his voice sounded angry, as if he was using all his self control to not pounce her, he spoke againsther neck, and she whimpered.

“It’s just training remember, completely platonic” she bit out, throwing his own words at him.

The breath flew from her lungs as Cassian slammed her against the wall. His hand around her throat.

“Let’s train then” he ground his body against her, and Nesta arched into him, desperate for any contact. “But I promise you, when I’m done, you won’t be able to walk for weeks, and every step you take, you’ll remember me, and not that prick. I’m mark every goddamn inch of you if I have to” he swore, the red hot anger in his eyes making her moan once more as she ground against him.

“No” he snapped and grabbed her waist, he twisted his body taking them to the floor, his arm softening the impact, but suddenly he was caging her body with his legs and arms.

“What are you doing” near breathless, the moves making her dizzy she could think of anything but the huge make above her. She lifted her hips, trying to grind against him again.

A predatory smile, and he lifted her again, slamming her against the wall with her legs around his waist, his other hand he used to grip both of hers against the wall above her head.

“Let me remind you” a bite on her neck, and Nesta moaned.

“You are mine” a kiss so punishing Nesta gasped for breath, her chest heaving against his.

“Say it” he ground against her neck, marking her.

“I’m yours” she moaned, and bit his ear, he hissed.

“I’m yours, and you’re mine” she licked at his neck, tasting the sweat and salt.

He bit her lip, she yanked her head backwards, tasting her own blood. He pulled on her hair, she bit him neck once more.

“I’m yours” he growled. “I’m yours and you’re mine”. Claiming her in another kiss.

They continued to claim each other, to fuck so brutally they marked and mapped every inch of each other. To lose themselves in each other so throughly they forgot about everything but the taste of one another and until they could feel each other in their bloodstreams.

[fontegagrilledcheese]

Dumbasses in Quarantine

This is my Bog Exchange fic! I finally finished! This is for the lovely @herostag I hope they like it!

Special thanks to Dani and Doug for beating my grammar with a stick. Ily <3

This is 2.9K words of idiots being idiots during the plague. Just pure fluff, no CW here. Modern Au.

1. Geralt had finally had enough of Jaskier complaining about all the takeout they had been consuming since everything had gone on lockdown, so here he was, watching a pot of noodles cook while Jaskier was in the living room weeding his island in Animal Crossing for the third time that week. He stirs the spaghetti around before grabbing a second pot and the jar of pasta sauce that he had bought at some point in the last few years. Geralt pours the sauce into the pot, throws some Italian seasoning in and hmms at the consistency before ladling some pasta water into the sauce to thin it out slightly. “Dinner’s almost ready” Geralt softly calls to Jaskier before going back to his noodles, fishing one out to check the doneness. Geralt bites into it and makes a face at the sweetness as Jaskier walks into the kitchen.

 “Everything all right there?” Jaskier inquires, coming over to look into the pots on the stove. 

“Hmmm, I think so. Taste this?” Geralt fishes another noodle out to hand over to Jaskier, who eats it with a hum. 

“That doesn’t taste right,” Jaskier says thoughtfully. “But I don't know enough about cooking to dispute it.” 

Geralt hums again, “Think it will be fine?” 

Jaskier just shrugs and goes to set the table, leaving Geralt to finish putting the meal together. Geralt tilts his head at the pots on the stove before pulling out his phone to text  Eskel ‘is pasta supposed to be sweet when cooking?’

While waiting for a reply, Geralt drains the noodles and dumps them into the sauce to stir them in before his phone rings with a call from Eskel. 

“You tried a noodle and it tasted sweet?”

“Yeah, is it supposed to be like that?”

There is a moment of silence where Lambert can be heard laughing in the background before Eskel replies, “Are you sure you put salt in the water?”

“Yeah, poured a bunch of salt in there like you said to.”

Eskel hums, “Are you sure it wasn't sugar? Did you make sure to taste it first?”

The silence on Geralt's side is telling, and Lambert can be heard dying in the background. 

“Thanks Eskel,” Geralt says before hanging up and staring down at the pot of sugared spaghetti. 

“Hey Jask, how do you feel about getting takeout again?”

Jaskier sighs, “What happened?”

Geralt blushes “I… I may have put sugar in the water instead of salt…”

“Oh… but the sauce?” 

“I put some of the pasta water in the sauce to thin it.”

Jaskier starts giggling, “G-Geralt... noooo.”

Geralt sighs, wearily turning off the stove. “So takeout?” 

“Yeah, takeout is fine. Whatever you feel like.”

Geralt hums and pulls up the delivery app, “Sorry, Jask.”

Jaskier sidles up to him, giving him a half hug, “Thanks for trying.” He leans fully into him so he can see Geralt's phone as they order.

2. A while into quarantine, Jaskier decided he needed some greenery in his life, since he couldn’t leave the house. This led Jaskier to order himself a cute little cactus from a local nursery for the next time they order a grocery pick up. Talking Geralt into stopping by the shop on the way back from the store proved easier than Jaskier had anticipated. Geralt had begrudgingly agreed after hours of Jaskier’s pouting and puppy eyes wearing him down. 

Jaskier dances around the apartment with his new treasure before placing it on the sunny windowsill in their living room. Geralt rolls his eyes but smiles at his roommates' antics, “You do know how to take care of it don’t you?”

Jaksier pouts at him, “It’s a cactus, how hard can it be! I just water it every so often and bam, beautiful thriving mini Geralt!”

Geralt huffs at him, grabbing a controller for their gaming console, “You promised I could destroy you at Mortal Combat if we picked up the plant.”

“Yes, yes Geralt I’m coming, just let me water my precious child.”

Weeks later, Little Geralt starts looking a bit droopy, causing Jaskier to water him, but unfortunately Jaskier does not account for his ADHD and lack of calendar filling out, and proceeds to water the poor cactus every day for the next two weeks, water logging and eventually killing poor Little Geralt.

Once Jaskier realizes, he cries to Geralt only a little and has a funeral for the cactus as he throws it away, being the absolute most dramatic about it as possible. Geralt just rolls his eyes at the antics and adds a new plant to the order list to pick up the next time they have their outing to go get groceries.

Jaskier gives Geralt the biggest hug when he realises they’re heading to the plant store and talks excitedly about how determined he is to to not kill Little Geralt the Second; Geralt just rolls his eyes half heartedly but helps Jaskier set up a calendar to keep track of when he’s watered the cactus. This works for about a month before Jaskier gets busy and forgets about his little plant, frying on the windowsill, until Geralt notices about three months later.

“Hey Jask, your cactus is looking a bit… shriveled.”

Jaskier rushes into the living room “NO!” He yells as he slides to a stop on his knees before the  dried up little plant “Noooooooo, Little Geralt the Second, nooooo!” he shakes his fists at the ceiling.

Geralt pats his shoulder comfortingly, “At least it lived longer this time.”

Jaskier shakes his head with a sigh. “I’m a terrible plant parent.”

Geralt hmms consolingly, “We can get you another. I’ll try to help you keep better track of it this time.” 

Jaskier nods, “Thanks Geralt,” and picks up his dead plant to go throw it out. 

Geralt just hmms and pulls up the pick-up list on his phone to add a new little cactus.

Three months later, Little Geralt the Third is thriving in its place on the windowsill, happily soaking up the sun on a bright spring day as a breeze comes through the window. Jaskier dances around the living room, vacuuming and dusting as Geralt cleans the kitchen of the previous night’s actually decent attempt at cooking. Jaskier sings along to ABBA, twirling with his duster mic when disaster strikes poor Little Geralt the Third. Jaskier swirls too close to the window and pops his hip at just the wrong time and the plant wobbles before being pushed off the edge and falls three stories down to the concrete sidewalk down below. Jaskier freezes at the crashing sound and turns to look out the window, staring down at his poor, broken plant.

“Nooooooo, Geralt!” Jaskier yells, and Geralt comes running in from the kitchen, startled by Jaskier’s cry. 

“Jask?!” 

Jaskier just points down at the sidewalk, falling to his knees “Geralt, I killed him! I killed our son! To ABBA!” 

Jaskier sprawls out on the floor dramatically, mourning the fate of poor Little Geralt the Third, who had been thriving wonderfully before going splat on the pavement. 

Geralt sits down next to his dramatic roommate and pats his leg, “That one was actually doing pretty well. Maybe we could get another and just find a better place for it to sit?”

Jaskier sniffles and looks through his lashes at Geralt, “Really?” 

Geralt nods before being tackled to the ground in a tight hug. 

“Thanks Geralt.” Jaskier whispers, nuzzling into his friend.

3. Geralt stood staring into the mirror at the red roots growing into his perfect silver platinum hair. He pouts at it, looking at his hair and then back down at his phone at the pictures of his past beautiful silver hair. 

“I can do it, how hard can it be?” he grumbles, glaring back at his roots. He nods to himself before searching different bleaches, toners, and silver dyes that are available at their local beauty shop.

A week and two trips to the store later, Geralt is once again standing in the bathroom and glaring at his roots in the mirror. “How hard can it be...”

Five hours later, Jaskier comes home from the park to Geralt sitting on the couch in a hoodie with the hood on and scrunched up around his face, pouting.

“So how did it go?” he asks.

Geralt grunts in response.

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” comes Jaskier’s exasperated reply, reaching for the hood over the back of the couch.

Geralt growls and catches his hand, yanking and pulling Jaskier over the couch and partially into his lap.

Jaskier laughs and reaches up again with both hands, trying to use one as a distraction. Geralt growls again and tackles him to the floor to pin him, where they tussle around before Jaskier gets an upper hand and pulls the hood off. Geralt freezes as Jaskier stares at him with wide eyes and a growing smile.

 “Don’t,” he growls.

Jaskier’s grin turns into giggles, then into full on laughter. “Geralt! Your hair!” 

Geralt sits back with a pout, still sitting on Jaskier. “I know, it's horrible.”

“It's bright purple! What did you do!?”

Geralt flushes, “I forgot to set a timer and left the toner in too long. It should wash out and wear off in a few weeks,” he grumbles.

Jaskier continues to giggle. “Well at least it's not permanent, and you bleached the roots pretty well.”

Geralt sighs and nods before laying down on Jaskier for a consolation cuddle. “Yeah, at least there's that.”

4. Geralt’s birthday was coming up and Jaskier was determined to celebrate it, even if they couldn’t go on their customary birthday bar crawl that they had gone on for both of their birthdays since they had been roommates in college. Jaskier wanted to go the extra mile for his bestest friend in the whole world and decided that he was going to make Geralt a homemade cake, icing drizzle and all. Jaskier had scoured the internet for weeks trying to find a cake he thought geralt would like and that he thought he could make with his limited baking abilities. He finally found the perfect recipe for a simple strawberry pound cake that he only had to buy a minimal amount of extra ingredients for. 

The day of Geralt's birthday, Jaskier sets up in the kitchen and banishes Geralt to the living room to play his new Witcher game while Jaskier makes the cake. 

He starts by setting out everything he needs and getting the beaters set up and his recipe out. He preheats the oven and then gets to work measuring everything out carefully, looking back at his recipe often, so often he doesn’t quite notice that he’s grabbed the salt container instead of the sugar and measures out the three cups the recipe calls for before adding it into the wet ingredients bowl to cream together as stated by the recipe. Jaskier goes about making his cake and mixing it up, carefully pouring it into the disposable cake tin they had bought specially for the event before putting it in the oven and carefully setting a timer on his phone.

He takes a break for a moment to make a cup of tea before cleaning up the mess from the cake and mixing up the simple drizzle icing for the cake.

The timer goes off and Jaskier pokes the cake with a toothpick as he has been directed, frowning at the lopsided cake. 

“Is that how it should look?” he mutters to himself, looking at the clean toothpick. “Guess it’s done.”

He pulls the cake out of the oven and  sets it on the rack to cool, poking little holes in it with the toothpick to help it cool and absorb some of the icing later.

After 30 minutes, he drizzles the icing over the cake, humming happily to himself. 

“Geralt, do you want to do cake now or later?” he calls into the living room. Geralt hmms and stands before replying, “Now.”

Jaskier grins and grabs them plates, forks, and a knife to cut the cake with.

Geralt stands beside him at the counter, smiling softly at the cake Jaskier has made him. 

“Thanks Jask,” he says softly. 

Jaskier grins fully at him. “Happy birthday, Geralt!”

They cut into the cake and serve themselves. Geralt happily eats his, reaching out to get seconds while Jaskier frowns at his slice. “Does this taste right to you?” he takes another bite while Geralt shrugs.

“Tastes fine to me,” he replies, happy to continue eating what his Jaskier has made him. 

Jaskier frowns more and looks at his recipe, “I dunno, doesn’t it taste salty?” 

Geralt hmms in thought before continuing to eat, “Suppose so, but it’s not too bad.”

Jaskier gasps. “Geralt! No Geralt, stop eating that! I must have mixed up the salt and sugar when I was measuring, oh! It's terrible, I’m so sorry, Geralt,” he whines, looking almost at the verge of tears. 

This causes Geralt to pause his gremlin-like cake eating, setting the plate down before pulling his best friend into a tight hug, resting his head against the others. “So maybe you had a booboo with it and it’s a little salty. You know I’m not picky, and it tastes fine and vaguely like strawberries. I’ll eat it anyway, Jask.” he grumbles out.

Jaskier sniffles. “But you deserve a good cake that’s made correctly.”

Geralt hums, “Maybe, but this is something you’ve made for me with all your heart, and I think it tastes alright, and I will keep eating it, because you made it for me and that makes it taste all the sweeter.”

Jaskier sniffles again, squeezing the man in his arms tightly “Oh, you big softy! You don’t have to eat it.” 

“But I want to.”

“Fine.” Jaskier sighs, nuzzling the broad chest he’s pressed against. “Love you”

Geralt smiles softly, pressing a kiss to Jaskiers temple. “Love you too, you disaster.” 

Jaskier gasps and smacks his chest “You!”

Geralt laughs and grabs his cake before dragging Jaskier to the couch. “Come on, I demand my birthday cuddles.”

Jaskier puffs his cheeks but settles against Geralt on the couch, holding the controller for him “If this is my penance.”

5. Usually Jaskier did the laundry while Geralt did dishes. This was because Jaskier had many a delicate piece in his wardrobe and he did not trust Geralt to treat his clothes the right way if he were to do the laundry. Geralt didn’t care much either way who did the dishes and who did the laundry, as long as the chores ended up done in the end. This was how their kitchen, laundry nook, and part of their living room ended up absolutely covered in bubbles.

They had decided to switch up the chore rotation for the week because the dishes weren’t too bad and Jaskier hadn’t worn any of his ‘delicate’ pieces in the past week and a half, meaning there was nothing of his Geralt could mess up. The switching of chores had unforeseen consequences however, in that neither remembers exactly how to do the new chore, as they hadn’t had to in at least a year. Rather than ask the other for help, both Jaskier and Geralt decided to wing it and try their best. 

Jaskier stares down at Geralt, slav squatting, staring at the bubbles that were slowly invading their apartment via the laundry and kitchen. 

“So, I couldn’t remember which dish liquid was the one for the dishwasher and put the red one in, which was apparently the wrong choice…… What did you do to create the bubbles in the washer?” 

Geralt grunts. “That was the dawn dish soap that we hand wash the alcohol glasses with,” he sighs. “I may have put a full cup of laundry detergent in the washing machine”

Jaskier gasps “A full- Geralt! The entire cup!? That’s at least double the amount you’re supposed to use!” 

Geralt pouts. “I couldn’t remember how much,” he grumbles

“You could have asked me!”

This earns Jaskier a raised eyebrow and the stink eye.

“Fair enough,” he giggles. “We should have asked each other when we were confused.”

Geralt nods before standing. “Well I guess we should turn the appliances off before the bubbles get worse… wish me luck”

Jaskier nods and jokingly salutes him. “I’ll remember you dearly.”

Geralt chuckles and shakes his head before wading into the bubbles to stop the dishwasher and washing machine cycles.

A minute later he reappears, covered in bubbles from head to toe, looking like some sort of grumpy snowman. Jaskier laughs at him before Geralt smirks and captures him in a bear hug, causing the man to shriek. “Nooo! Geralt my clothes! Ackkkk!”

Geralt swings him, picking him up slightly. “I think if we let the bubbles settle we can clean up in a little, but we should change first.”

Jaskier pouts “The point of you doing it was so only one of us had to change.”

Geralt gives him a toothy grin, carrying him towards their bedrooms to change. “But you laughed at me, that demands retribution.”

Jaskier just sticks his tongue out at him before being set down in front of his room. “Wanna play Smash while we wait?”

Geralt grins, “What, wanna get wrecked that badly?” he winks to Jaskiers affronted gasp before going in his room to change.

guess I’ll add my tag list huh

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @jaskiersvalley @jaskierswolf @dani-dandelino @wherethewordsare @softnerdypeter @thecomfortofoldstorries @dapandapod @lindianaj0nes @kuripon​ @elliestormfound @veritasrose

Hope y’all enjoyed it >///<