#prompt tag

[creamsiclemelt]

not sure what type of prompts u wanted but maybe natejo where the team realizes jo is their solution to how angry nate gets

(or if u need smtg more specific and more ur beat in terms of freaky, natejo cockwarming ◡̈)

I decided to combine both of your prompts anon! Enjoy!

///

Jo is a nice guy. He’s always quick to smile, and is a hell of a hockey player. 

But if you ask Mikko, maybe the best part of having him here, above everything else, is how he has a handle on Mack. Mikko’s never seen anyone outside of Gabe know how to talk Nate down when he’s worked up. 

Jo, though, blows even Gabe out of the water in Nate-handling-skills. Mikko’s seen Jo happily step in between Nate and the target of his ire more than once, has seen Jo go over and make Nate crack a smile when he’s got That One Look on his face. Within the first two weeks of the season, Mikko already knows just how valuable he’s going to be strictly for that alone. 

Still, when Nate accidentally bats the puck into their own net in the last minute of a one-goal game, Mikko knows that the nice dinner out the boys had planned is about to be a whole lot less relaxing than they had hoped for. Either Nate’s not coming—which seems unlikely because Jo’s coming—or he will, and be snappy and irritable when he’s not trying to talk hockey with whoever’s caught next to him. Not to mention what he’s going to be like at practice tomorrow. 

He doubts any amount of Jo talking to Nate or trying to make him laugh is going to change that. 

Mikko stays and does a post-game TV interview right after the game and hopes idly that maybe Nate will have the worst of his anger out by the time he makes it back to the room. 

He’s not exactly optimistic as he approaches the locker room and hears the dead silence coming from it. When he opens the door, he’s expecting some kind of—well. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting. But it isn’t what he finds.

Because Nate’s sitting in his stall, slumped like the picture of relaxation, with his legs spread wide. And in between his knees, there’s a dark head of hair.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it is, but when Mikko cautiously approaches his stall, situated right next to Nate’s, he finds himself blinking down at Jo, eyes caught on the way his mouth is being stretched open by Nate’s cock. 

Jo’s eyes flick over to his, and although Mikko can see his face getting pink, he doesn’t try to pull away, just blinks once, twice, and then shuts his eyes. 

“Thank you, baby,” Nate says, his voice husky and maybe the calmest Mikko’s ever heard him sound after a loss like that. “You’re doing such a good job.” 

Then he looks up, glances around the room until he sees a member of the staff, standing in place, just as frozen as everyone else. “Can you guys do post-game interviews somewhere else?” he asks. 

And, well—

It’s a small price to pay in exchange for a content, calm Nate, all things considered.

[quellstak]

the people (me) need a new jussy one shot 🙂‍↕️

“He’s cute.”

“He looks transient,” Cheryl voices her distaste.

Transient was an exaggeration. Out of place? Perhaps. But, not homeless looking. There’s something familiar about him that she can’t quite place.

Josie runs the sharp point of her pinky’s nail against the palm of her opposite hand. The tips were shaped specifically to mimic a cat’s.

“I thought you were seeing Reggie,” Valerie replies.

Movement stills. Her eyes narrowing suspiciously, yet they remain on the current object of her curiosity. “Why does everyone think we fucked?”

She raises her hand as Melody snickers. “It was a rhetorical question.”

Josie exhales a slow breath, tilting her head to side as she continues to observe the most recent addition to Stonewall Prep. From her place in front of the window, she can see most of the hallway below.

The curly haired boy scratches his head, spinning in another circle with the outdated map in his hand.

“Incoming.”

Melody alerts their attention to Brett and Joan, the pair turning a corner and stopping in their tracks. She rolls her eyes at the cartoonish villain expressions that come over them.

Could they be any more obnoxious?

“I’m going to go introduce myself. I’ll see you three at the party later.”

“There’s a party later?”

“Come on, Val. There’s always a party somewhere.”

With those parting words, Josie descends the staircase. Brett and Donna reach him first; she arrives just in time to catch his name.

“Jughead. Jughead Jones.” He adjusts his glasses as Brett sizes him up.

“Josie McCoy,” she introduces herself, making her presence known. Jughead’s eyes flicker towards her and, yeah, he’s even cuter up close. “They’re not bothering you, are they?”

“We’re just offering to show him around.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, Brett. I can give you a tour if you’d like.”

“I’m just looking for the main office.”

“What a coincidence, I was just headed that way.”

Jughead nods, cheeks twinged with pinkness, “Okay.”

“So, what brings you to Stonewall Prep?” She inquires as they begin to walk. She assumes that he’s a senior too; it’s rare for someone to transfer in their final year of high school.

“Finally got bumped up to top of the waitlist.” He answers blithely.

“Mm. What school were you at before?”

“Riverdale High.”

She would’ve guessed Southside High.

“Really? My parents graduated from there.”

He smiles, lowering his guard as they find common ground. “Mine too.”

She’d likely be attending Riverdale High if her mother didn’t push her to apply to Stonewall Prep. Not a decision she regrets since meeting her best friends.

And they’ve reached their destination.

“Well, word of advice, Jughead: be careful of the company you keep.”

“Stay away the Basic Eight, got it. Anything else I should know?”

She pauses, weighing whether to leave or continue this quasi-tour. Her curiosity is not completely satisfied.

“There’s a party tonight. You should come.”

He grimaces. “I’m not really a party person.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you in class.”

Josie spins around and begins to walk away. She takes five steps before he calls her out her name.

“Josie?”

She stops then turns back around, “Yeah.”

“Do you know where to get a good burger around here?”

Josie pretends to think it over. The food court at the mall down the road has a nice variety of restaurants to choose from. “I might.”

[kitweewoos]

Hunnihawk + "Did you just call me honey? Because, honey, I have a name, it’s a really good name, I found hard for it, and you will use it when addressing me, or speaking about me at all. " <3

[also on ao3]

He was too tired for the truly asinine dribble he was being subjected to; he really was. He’d been running on motor oil coffee and spite for thirty-six hours, and he wasn’t going to last much longer. He was going to break down and he was going to be unable to keep his mouth shut the next time Frank spoke to him. He usually considered himself a level-headed guy, not one likely to fly off the handle, not the way Hawkeye was, but there was just something about Frank. His voice hit at a pitch that crawled underneath BJ’s skin and made him want to tear into him. His body hurt; he had barely been back on his feet after taking a sniper’s bullet through his abdomen when a fresh rolling wave of casualties from a push by whatever General had gotten in their head that they needed new property. He ached, and he wanted to lay down, but instead he was working while every part of his body screamed at him to take it easy.

“C’mon, honey, move it, you’re in my way,” Frank’s voice cut through BJ’s thoughts and he whipped around to look at the other surgeon. They were in the OR, a patient beside BJ as Frank tried to nudge him out of the way to take over. He’d been afraid of this, of someone – particularly Frank Burns – finding out about him and treating him differently, treating him worse. Frank had taken it to a level beyond anyone else entirely, though, calling BJ pet names like he would the nurses and comparing him to Klinger, saying he might want to start dressing from Klinger’s closet. He was just too tired for this and something in his chest cracked wide.

“Did you just call me honey? Because, honey, I have a name, it’s a really good name, I fought hard for it, and you will use it when addressing me, or speaking about me at all,” BJ spit at him.

“It seems appropriate, Hunnicutt,” Frank snapped back and if BJ hadn’t spent ten minutes scrubbing and sterilizing already, he might have popped him hard in the mouth. “You really should be a nurse on that side of the table, taking orders, handing the real men instruments as they do their jobs, saying yes, sir and yes, doctor when I address you.”

BJ couldn’t move, the disbelief like static in his muscles, but Hawkeye had no issue stripping his gloves off and lunging at Frank over the operating table behind them, grabbing him by the front of his gown and yanking him in close.

“Listen to me, you small-minded, webbed-toed, mouth-breathing cure for a boner, BJ Hunnicutt is not only twice the surgeon you are with his eyes shut and his feet bound, but he also happens to be twice the man you are as well. He had more compassion and kindness in his pinky nail than you have in your whole body, and in every way except military rank, he outclasses you. So, I’d really consider your words carefully, Frank, before I find a firing squad for you to be a target dummy for.”

BJ didn’t want to admit how attractive Hawkeye was in the moment, especially in front of Frank and the rest of the OR theater that was assembled. Ever since Hawkeye had had to dig bullets out of BJ’s guts, and everyone learned that BJ had been born with a uterus as well as a functioning penis, BJ had become some kind of freak. He couldn��t imagine how they’d react if they knew he was into men as well, and sometimes when they were alone, he and Hawkeye would curl together in dark corners and forget the war entirely.

With Peg’s blessing, of course.

Hawkeye hadn’t touched him until BJ laid a letter on his lap from his wife where she explained how happy she was for BJ to find someone like Hawk, a companion through the horrors of war, and she couldn’t wait to meet him when the war was over and they all made it home safely to her, that he’d be welcome in the spare room if he wanted it.

“That doesn’t sound like an invitation to sleep with her husband, it sounds like she’s being a polite host,” Hawkeye had argued.

“We don’t have a spare room,” BJ had explained patiently, looking at his best friend on the cot in front of him. “It’s, it’s the euphemism we use for talking about potentially having a third in our relationship when we don’t want anyone to catch on to what we’re talking about. Spare room means the room we have between us, in our marriage bed, in our home, in our hearts.”

“And you’re sure that that is what she means?”

“As sure as I’ve been about anything, Hawkeye. This isn’t the first letter we’ve talked about this, because I’ve been thinking about kissing you since the day we met.”

Hawk had climbed into his lap and pressed kiss after desperate kiss into his mouth and face, obsessed with his neck and ears, and they’d clung to each other, a promise that they were there together, until helicopters could be heard and Radar called over the PA for all medical shifts to join them for a party in the OR to welcome the incoming wounded.

Now, BJ stood back as Hawkeye put himself in between him and Frank, snarling in his face, and he shouldn’t find it as attractive as he did, but he did.

“Alright,” Potter soothed. “To your corners, doctors. Burns, knock off your snide comments. Hunnicutt is still a doctor and whatever extra organs he had doesn’t change that. Pierce, let him go.”

His uterus had been so badly damaged by the bullet tearing through him that Hawkeye had had to remove it, not that BJ was using it, but his stomach was flatter now without it and he felt weird, off-kilter, as if something important was gone. He curled into Hawkeye the first night he was allowed back in the Swamp instead of Post Op and said, “I know I could never bear children, but I liked the idea of it being there, just in case. Like, if I tried hard enough, it would work, and I wasn’t born a freak for no reason.”

Hawkeye had set his hand on BJ’s stomach, just below his belly button, and he had murmured, “we can still give it a shot.”

It had been enough to settle BJ’s nerves about the situation, though, that they were in this truly together and it didn’t bother Hawkeye at all what BJ’s body included just so long as BJ remained the same person he had been before, and to Hawkeye, nothing had changed. The rest of camp hadn’t quite agreed, whispering about him, and wondering what else he was hiding, if he was a woman in other ways that he wasn’t telling them. They talked about how he never hit on any of the nurses the way Hawkeye did, and they’d thought it was about his fidelity to his wife, but now their whispers wondered if he was afraid of being found out that he had more going on than just a uterus – never mind that they’d seen him naked more than once already thanks to some pranks that had gotten out of hand – and couldn’t satisfy his partners. The worst of the rumors wondered if he could even get someone pregnant, and if Peggy had found someone to father Erin when BJ couldn’t get the job done. He burned every time he heard those insidious little phrases, knowing that he held the truth and what everyone in this cesspit of a hell hole didn’t actually matter.

He knew, and Peg knew, and when you looked at Erin, you could see BJ in her features. That’s what truly mattered.

But still, he’d been raised BJ because his parents had been told he wasn’t a boy, and he wasn’t a girl, instead he was something in between, and they hadn’t wanted to give a real name to a child like that. They’d decided to name him BJ, and raise him as a boy as most of his external features were male, and they’d wanted a son anyway. It had taken a long time, and Peg’s unerring support as she loved every inch of his body to convince him that his name – slapped on him at the last minute – was just as worthy as the rest of him. Somehow, it had only truly solidified when he’d heard Hawkeye call him Beej for the first time, a nickname out of his two letters that felt like love and like home.

“You okay?” Hawk asked as Frank slunk away from them in the OR, his voice low but gentle, the understanding and care in his tone so characteristic of Hawkeye Pierce that BJ would kiss him right there if it wouldn’t get them both thrown out without benefits and ruin their reputations.

“I’m alright,” he assured Hawk. “My honor has sufficiently been defended from anyone looking to degrade it.”

“I didn’t mean to -”

“You don’t have to apologize, Hawk. I’m good. I’ll be better later when I’m off my feet with a drink in my hand, but as long as Frank stays on the opposite side of the OR from me, for now, I’m good to go. Put me in, Coach.”

"As long as you’re sure.”

“Yeah, as sure as spare rooms,” he replied, and Hawk’s eyes sparkled as he nodded. He turned and let BJ get back to work, and for the first time, it didn’t feel terrible that the camp knew that he wasn’t quite the man they thought they knew. He was different, but that didn’t mean he was less than them. He was still BJ Hunnicutt, and he’d worked so hard to make it to where he was now, and he wasn’t going to let anyone, least of all Frank and the camp’s chorus of gossips, take that away from him when he’d already worked so hard to be here as he was. He was Doctor BJ Hunnicutt, and no one could change that.

[commbowman]

Squint - @frankpooleunofficial

—

Having his eyeballs frozen was not something Frank had ever expected from an accident at work. Whatever the doctors these days had up their sleeves did a pretty impressive job of letting him see again, but there were still little imperfections and reduced central vision. There were surgeries he could have that would fix it, but they were far riskier than simply leaving it be. He would adapt.

“Looks like freckles…” he said. “I didn’t notice before.”

Maybe he was getting a bit too comfortable, but Frank leaned in close to Halman and inspected the little glowing dots that made up his form. There were speckles of blue, red, yellow, purple, and white all spread about like grains of sand.

“Is that good?” They ask, cocking their head to the side.

Not shrinking away when the other leaned in, uncomfortable not but in the same way as with others. Frank’s examination was different. He noticed things about them not even they had.

When they shifted the dots would move, fluttering around each other as if in a snow globe. It seemed to be representative of them free flowing, barely contained within a form. Doll like and not very detailed— yet incredibly so. He was made of contradictions but that only seemed to impress Frank.

“We never noticed either,” the voices soften together.

Cosmic dust, to put it plainly, he as anything else in the universe was comprised of it. Just more visibly so as he captured it to make himself visible and at some points tangible. In a way he comprised his own cosmos. Flecs, stars maybe, all about him. Some more visible and freckle like than others.

He wondered if it was the others… condition… that led him to be able to notice these details. All that the other, rare few he let see him, ignored.

[blade-that-was-broken]

Concept: On his way back to the Tree (not long after the escape) John Dory saves Clay from being eaten by some critter…

And then ends up following him around cause Clay has no idea how to survive out in the wild and keeps almost getting eaten or walking into dangerous places.

[hebuiltfive]

30 gentle prompts

13: "Lean on me."

John

Hellooooo! Thank you for the ask! This one fought me hard so I hope it reads okay and that it (kind of) fits the prompt!

(#13: Lean On Me from 30 Gentle Prompts)

Poolside

The pastels of dawn finally broke and gave way to the rising sun. Warm golden rays were cast down onto the island and, in the distance, above the crashing of the waves below, distinctive chatter of seabirds filled the morning air.

Having been so used to the silent solitude of orbit, by the cacophony of singing birds had woken John up early than usual. 

Not that he was complaining. One of the only things he missed about being earth-side was being one with nature. 

For a while, John remained laying in bed. With his eyelids closed, he listened to the symphony that was being played beyond his window in contentment. He could have stayed there all day but he eventually grew restless and pulled himself out from under his sheets.

So used to suiting up at a moment’s notice for his work, it took John very little time to get ready for the day. He was dressed and presentable within minutes. Before he left the solitude of his room, he grabbed one of his cameras; if he was up this early, he might as well take the opportunity to shoot some shots.

He traipsed down to the kitchen, being as quiet as his stumbling legs would allow him to be so he wouldn’t wake the rest of his family. A couple of his brothers, he knew, would already have been awake, but the rest of the household deserved all the rest they could get. It had been a difficult week readjusting Dad back into life back on Earth. The break they had requested from the GDF — or rather had asserted the organisation was going to be taking — had been desperately needed. 

John’s idea had been to grab a quick morning snack before heading out onto the peaks but, as he entered the kitchen and noticed the small figure sitting alone on the edge of the pool, John’s plan quickly changed.

He abandoned the idea of breakfast and stepped out onto the cool concrete of the patio. If the sun hadn’t yet risen and the darkness of night had still been reigning supreme, John might have mistaken him for Gordon. But, as the golden rays shone down onto Alan, they made him look like the kid he still barely was.

John quietly stood beside him. “Are you normally up this early?”

Alan, who had his pyjama bottoms rolled up to his knees so his feet could be dipped into the pool, gently shook his head. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Many-a-time had John struggled to wake Alan up, even during one of his naps in the middle of the day. When the kid was out, he was out, so the easy confession made John’s instincts kick in.

Alan not being able to sleep wasn’t normal.

Worried, but determined not to show it, John casually sat himself down beside Alan. His jean cuffs were rolled up to match his little brother’s so he too could dip his feet into the pool.

“Jesus, Alan! This water is freezing!”

“Sun hasn’t warmed it up yet.”

“That’s why the pool has a heating system, you know?”

Alan shrugged. “Seemed like a waste to put it on if it was just my feet in there. It’s okay, they’ve got used to the temperature now.”

Pulling himself back up to stand, John huffed. He didn’t want to calculate how long that meant Alan had been out there. He walked over to the controls, set the pool heater to a sensible temperature, and then made his way back to his brother. When he sat himself back down, he crossed his legs and avoided touching the pool until the water had warmed up.

“What kept you awake?”

Again, Alan shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Nightmares?” John carefully probed. It wouldn’t have been the first time Alan had suffered from night terrors.

To his initial relief, Alan shook his head. His lack of a further verbal response, however, had John still worrying. 

Trust me, he thought to himself. Let me in, Allie. 

He cast a glance over. Sometimes it was easy to forget how young Alan was. Their work with International Rescue had all of them pulling crazy stunts and impossible feats, and Alan made it all look so easy. Sometimes they were all guilty of forgetting that Alan was still technically just a kid. Recently graduating high school didn’t change any of that over-night.

John’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not worrying about college, are you?”

He had thought the idea had been ridiculous to even suggest. This was Alan he was talking to. The kid would not only get the best pick of schools but he was also incredibly capable of doing anything he set his mind to.

The way Alan froze at his question, however, seemed to suggest that John had accidentally hit the nail on the head.

“Really? You know you have nothing to worry about there.” John continued, but when his brother still didn’t give him an answer, he coaxed, “Alan, come on. Talk to me. What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

For a moment, John wasn’t sure whether Alan was going to say anything ever again. His blue eyes were fixed on a lone canary coloured float that was drifting at the far end of the pool.

“Nothing’s going— My mind isn’t— I’m just…” Alan sighed deeply, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “I don’t know.”

“That’s useful.”

John’s dry sarcasm was unusually welcomed by his younger brother, who cracked a small smile.

“Is it about choosing the college? Or the major? Or about making friends? Because, you do know that you will excel at all of that, regardless of anything that’s thrown in your way, right?”

Alan’s head shook. “No. No, it’s none of that.”

“Then what is it? Surely nothing is worse than those things. Are you worried about living away from home? Or—” 

“It’s Dad.”

John stopped mid-sentence and watched as his brother inhaled sharply.

“Dad?”

Alan’s fingers picked nervously at the hem of his pyjama shirt. A thread that had come loose was in danger of being completely pulled out. “Well, not Dad himself… It’s my… I don’t know. Maybe it is…”

Without checking the temperature, John dangled his legs over the edge of the pool once again so he could more easily shuffle closer to his younger brother. He was thankful the water had begun to heat up nicely so his feet didn’t freeze this time around. John placed his camera down beside him and gently took Alan’s hands in his in a feeble attempt to save the pyjama top from further destruction.

“Having Dad home is great, that’s not what I’m trying to say, by the way.” Alan quickly blurted out. “But, up until now, he was always, like, a figment of my imagination. He wasn’t real. There was no-one that I needed to impress, you know? I mean, other than Scott but… Scotty’s different. Dad’s… Dad.”

“Alan, you don’t need to worry about impressing him.”

“You don’t get it.”

“As the middle child of four impressive brothers, I think I do.” John attempted a soft smile, but Alan didn’t seem to notice.

“Try being the youngest of four impressive brothers.” He sighed again. “That’s not the point, though. Dad being back… I always dreamed of that day, no matter how impossible it seemed, and now that it’s happened and it’s real… I don’t know. Living up to whatever it is he’s hoped for us is kind of… scary?”

John wrapped an arm around Alan’s shoulders, but his brother remained as stiff as a rod. Softly, he attempted to pull him closer, but Alan shook him off.

He stood up, splashing John as his feet snapped out of the water with haste. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t pick up bad habits from Scott.”

“But I am, okay? I don’t need to be hugged or coddled, I just need to… I just need to grow up.”

The assertion had John stumped for a moment. Whilst Alan had been the youngest of them all, never had he shows signs of immaturity when it mattered. In some ways, John grieved the fact that Alan was never able to experience a normal childhood as he and his two older brothers had done. Even Gordon had received a semblance of normality before they’d all uprooted and moved to the island. Alan had been “grown up” for a far longer amount of time than he should have been. 

“Don’t say that.”

“What, the truth?”

“Alan…”

With less speed than his brother, John lifted his feet from the pool and stood himself up too.

“What if I’m not good enough, Johnny?” Alan’s voice broke, his face contorted to try and keep the tears at bay. “What if I’m a disappointment to Dad?”

“You’re not going to be.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yeah, I do. You want to know why?”

Alan seemed unsure as to whether he should have allowed John to continue. He fidgeted, swaying from one leg to the other as his fingers pulled at that single thread of his shirt once again.

John didn’t wait for Alan to offer up an answer. He knew that an answer wasn’t going to be in the cards. “I know because of all the things I’ve seen you do, Alan. You say that you’re worried you won’t impress Dad but you impress us all every single day.”

He took a pause, allowing Alan a chance to try and negate that comment. When he didn’t, John stepped towards him and placed his hands on his shoulders. Alan’s watery eyes lifted to meet John’s.

“You’re already an amazing person, Alan, regardless of what Dad thinks, though I know he thinks it too.”

“How?”

“When we were in the Oort Cloud, I was co-piloting with Virgil and we had Dad onboard. You were flying ahead in Three and Dad was watching you pilot that craft with such awe, Alan. He asked us who taught you to fly like that. We told him you were a natural and he looked so proud of you, Allie. You don’t need to worry about proving yourself to him. That’s not something you’ve ever needed to be worried about.”

Alan crumbled at that. He fell forward and into John’s arms. The outburst was no doubt at least partly due to the fact that none of them had yet taken the time that week to fully process the fact that Dad was home. If John thought too hard about it, about what Alan had just confessed and what he’d said in response, he might have risked becoming overwhelmed too. No longer did they have to come up with imaginary what-ifs when it came to their father. Anything they wondered about, they could now confirm with a simple conversation and that… That was going to take some getting used to again.

Alan sobbed into John’s shirt, but John just held him. Their conjoined shadow began to show on the rocks behind them as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky.

“It’s okay, Allie. I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

“Sorry… ‘m sorry…”

John pulled him in tighter. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“But you shouldn’t… need… I’m fine.”

His lips dared a smile. “I know, but I am and it’s alright. It’s always alright.”

Alan broke away and roughly wiped his cheeks with the back on his hand. “You were busy.”

“I wasn’t.”

He followed Alan’s gaze as it trailed over to the abandoned camera still sitting by the poolside.

“I was just going to take some photos of the sunrise.” John clarified.

“And I ruined that.”

“Hey, no. No, you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I did.” Alan hiccuped through a sniffle. “You had to become my emotional support again.”

“You know that I’m always willing to be that, Alan. You know you can lean on me whenever you need to, no matter what, okay?”

“But your photos!”

“I can still take some.” 

John observed the sky quickly, squinting as the warm sunlight bathed the pool in morning light, and then glanced back at Alan. “You can join me if you like? That way we can talk more, if you wanted?”

Alan pondered the question for a moment before offering a small nod. “Let me grab some shoes.”

[who-scrambled-my-ocs]

If Lucas could've adopted Baby Bim (by normal or by evil-parent-eating means), what would raising an infant look like for him and Bruno?

Part one

He’d been Hunting

He’d been stalking the duo

The Intent, the Magic, the Cruelty in their gazes

It had sung to him

-

They’d been hunting too

A group of friends, a group of laughter, careless joy and harmless fun

A sheer feeling of innocent invincibility

They had been Hunting

The Magic in their hands, on their lips and in their shadows

Encircling and ensnaring and exploiting

It had Reeked

-

He’d had them

His Magic seeping through his veins

The excitement, the Hunger

He’d had them dancing at his fingertips, so close-

He’d

Stalled

Something had hiccuped behind him

Past the path they’d ran from him

He almost had them

.

.

.

He hadn’t noticed them hold a carrier

.

.

.

It laid on the side of the alley he’d ambushed them in, in the middle of their hunt, haphazardly tossed, almost overturned really

.

.

.

Brown tear filled eyes stared frozen at his sea-green ones, cheeks streaked but silent, merely hiccuping as quiet as possible

.

.

.

They’d ran

Without it

—————————————-

“Caro you cannot be serious” Bruno is walking wide eyed after Lucas as he pushes the stroller- it was new, when had he even found time to buy one already- further inside their house while still stubbornly rocking it, refusing to look his husband in the eye-

Bruno grabs his hand, forcing him gently but firmly to stop, to please listen “This is not- you brought in a child!”

“Caro keep it down, they’re sleeping”

“The bambino, Lucas- Caro it’s Human!” He almost hisses in his exasperated whisper, pouring everything in those words, everything they knew as Lucas keeps silently rocking the stroller

“We’re old” he says finally, a huff almost to it “We’ve gone past our retirement ages ago Bruno. It-it won’t be as long, we don’t have to worry like when we were young, we wouldn’t even be separated by decades, even if we live longer” Lucas says quietly, uncertainty caught in his voice despite his steadfast stance, eyes flitting back to the stroller he was rocking gently and away from his husband

Bruno sighs heavily, but there’s a sort of resignation in it despite himself as he glances at the bundle in the stroller, something fond already in his smile as he sees the baby was actually awake

The baby gurgles and babbles silently to itself as it raises a little fist up, making baby grabby hands and lightly kicking a leg as it held a new baby ring in its other hand, silently entertaining itself all on its own, all curious expressions and deep concentration

It looks up and suddenly freezes as it catches Bruno’s eyes, looking like a deer caught in the headlights at the sudden attention it was being given, eyes so very wide they were practically sparkling in the light, and Bruno chuckles softly as he reaches out a hand towards the baby

“Ciao, Stellina~”

—————————————

“Uhm, shee doll? Shee, you can play with her”

Lucas pauses in the hallway with a smile, laundry basket resting on his hip with one hand as he listens in to his Stella’s attempts at words

He’d already grasped several vowels and consonants so rapidly fast Lucas had almost felt jealous, remembering his own struggles at learning the human tongue

He silences his laugh at the memories, listening in with an amused and fond smile-

“No, papá sh-aid, sh-aid no magic alone”

His smile drops to an alarmed frown immediately, snapping his fingers and letting the shadows carry away their laundry as he walked closer to the bedroom beside his own

“Papá sh-ays magic can-can give euhm, boo-boo”

“Stella? Who are you talking to amarino?” He asks softly, his eyes scanning the room sharply as he walks in with one hand still on the doorknob

He sees nothing. Nothing but a kid with a curly mop of hair, bright rosy cheeks and beautiful brown eyes staring up at him with a finger by his face

There’s two cups of pretend tea placed on the floor, accompanied by two plates with two real cookies on each, on a little purple blanket on the floor strewn with toys

One plate is in front of him, the other across from him halfway in the shadows of a corner

His cookie lies untouched

The second cookie had a bite out of it

A hand gestures at the corner before Lucas can react, a frown above a mouth trying out his words

“Nona!”

Lucas frowns “Nona? Mio caro?” He asks, stepping a lot closer and swooping his heart up in his arms, scanning the shadows intently but seeing nothing “Do you have a friend, mia stella?”

“Nona” He simply repeats in Lucas’s arms, fiddling with the doll still in his hands “She likes cookie”

“Does she now?” Lucas asks softly, trying to hide the tenseness in his shoulders as he looked around

It hadn’t been the first time

Imaginary friend? Or something more

He pushes it away for now, smiling instead “How about we ask babbo to make many cookies with you then huh? Some pignoli-“

“Yesh! Yesh yesh!” Arms raised up in cheer before Lucas could even finish, and he laughs, booping his little nose

“We’ll make the best pignoli in the world-“ He freezes

It had been a single second

A single blink, forgettably easy to miss

But

He stares back in the room, eyes scanning again

He’d felt a brush of something-

“Papá?” Wide eyes are looking up at him, concern starting to seep in despite Lucas’s attempts to hide it

Focus

“Sorry stella, I thought I heard something” he simply smiles, kissing the little bundle’s forehead “Let’s go make those cookies huh?”

And perhaps get some scrolls ready from the basement

—————————————

“Stella! We need to leave!”

“Coming Nonno!” A rush of feet over the staircase, a yelp, and a tut of someone standing at the end of the staircase watching a little boy being carried by shadows safely down

“Bim, no running down the stairs, we’ve told you it’s dangerous”

“But papá-“

“No no, none of that. We’ll talk about it later again, now let’s tie your shoes-“

“I already did it!”

“What? Lemme see” Lucas reaches down to check and sure enough, they were two neat bunny ears on each shoe, snuggly and securely fit

Lucas raises a brow

“Did Nona do them for you?” He asks with a wry smile, biting back a chuckle as his kid bristled before him

“Nuhuh! No I did it! All by myself! I’m not a little baby anymore!” The stomp with his huff is adorable and Lucas can’t help the small laugh that escapes him, snickering at the pout it gets him

“I’m sorry Stella, you simply surprised me. You’re learning so fast I can’t keep up” he says amused, ruffling their curls as he’s greeted with a smug yet beaming smile “How about we go show babbo how well you did?”

“Yes! Babbo! Babbo look at my shoes!”

“No running-! Oh dear” Lucas chuckles, smiling fond as all the blobs in the house resumed chase after the bundle of energy, ready to catch his every trip and every stumble, allowing no serious harm

He could hardly protect him from every bump

But oh did he try

—————————————

“Why did you name me Bim actually? You-you chose the name Lucas for yourself papá, and that’s Italian just-just like you, babbo!”

“That’s because we found your name on your person stellina” Bruno says gently, both him and Lucas sharing a quick, furtive surprised glance at each, having not expected the question

Well, not now atleast

“And?”

“And?”

Brown eyes roll so hard it’s a wonder they didn’t fall out from behind Bim’s glasses, making Bruno snort despite himself, and Lucas gently tut through an amused grin

“We cannot read your mind stellina”

“Uh yes you can”

“But I won’t” Lucas reiterates, smiling wry as Bim huffs a little, yet he eases on the teases as he sees the restless energy return fast

“What do you wanna know about your name stella?”

“Well, why did you choose it? Why didn’t you pick another one like-like euhm-“ he stalls a little, thinking his question through as his parents waited patiently

He sighs “Why didn’t you choose one like yours babbo? Or like yours papá?”

“Do you mean, an Italian one?”

“Yeah”

Lucas and Bruno smile at each other, before Bruno pats the seat next to him, half hugging Bim as he took a deep breath

“Well, we tried to at first. In fact, we didn’t even know your name yet. But you didn’t like any name we gave you”

“Huh?”

“Yes” Bruno chuckles with a nod “We tried a few names, just a little to see if we all felt a connection to it. But, when we found your name on your old blankie in a little corner and called you your name, your face lit up” Bruno gestures with another chuckle “You gave one of your first giggles” he grins, gently poking Bim’s side as he tries to dodge and suppress his giggles, pushing at Bruno’s hands

“That’s not real!”

“I assure you we’re being completely honest” Lucas chuckles, pushing aside the paper he’d been reading “You’d already decided what your name was, it didn’t matter what anyone else thought about it! You, already knew” he grins, giving a slight tap on Bim’s chest with a smile

Bim looks down at his hands as Bruno and Lucas share another look, and Lucas gently takes his hand in his

“Do you like your name, stella?” He asks softly, watching Bim shrug

“I guess” he says, that lingering uncertainty still hanging in the air, of why his name wasn’t same as theirs

Why he wasn’t part of their connection

Lucas gently pats his hand “Bim. You are our son. Nostro figlio. No name, blood, or any magic will ever change that. Even if you wish to find and bond with your birth parents, or your birth family, you will always be in our hearts, and always be home here” he says softly

“We will have your pignoli, and your cristallo, and your abito viola-“

“Babbo”

Bruno chuckles softly, half hugging him as Bim huffs a bit in embarrassment

Oh the time when he’d proudly shown all his favorite stuff off without a hint of awareness

Time had flown

“Our point is, you are family to us, no matter what stellina”

“And” Lucas adds on to Bruno’s words, smiling soft as Bim looks up “You may choose any name you like, whenever you like, just like I did. Just like you did” he says softly, gently holding Bim’s shoulder, letting the words sink in

No matter what

He was their bambino

He was their stella

[icehearts]

geranium ; a flower of folly .. for a time my muse was foolish or acted foolishly.

Thank you so much for the ask! These are so fun.

[ floral-inspired questions ]

geranium ; a flower of folly .. for a time my muse was foolish or acted foolishly.

Telling a bald-faced lie to a Brass Blade in order to cover for a wanted Garlean operative inside Ul'dah? That counts as foolish, I would think. In her defense, Esca wasn't fully aware of who Silas was or what he had done; her petty grudge against the Brass Blades simply mandated that she obstruct whatever facade of justice they were pursuing. (This act of foolishness would pay off though, as their temporary alliance eventually becomes a valuable mentorship and treasured friendship.)

[ctedcicle]

epicsmp

ted works all day as a milkman running errands and charlie stays home

he gets lonely and gets over excited when ted comes home :)

cuddles

[i-am-a-fan]

:D!!

Alright alright alright I did the thing. Feel free to send me a character with a number and a letter. (Ships are ok too!)

[creamsiclemelt]

nick with anyone???? nickxcale. all star hookup! nickxanyone on the knights “what we lost in the fire” please you can completely ignore any of that and write whatever nick being loved you wanna write

oh anon you got me in the right mood and inspo...

here's nick/kaiden guhle (my little pet rarepair). past nick/shea

The first time Nick sleeps with Kaiden, it’s in the middle of the summer. The sunlight is bright as it shines through the window and all Nick can think about, in the second between Kaiden getting naked and distracting Nick with a stroke of his cock, is how terrible of an idea this is. 

This past year had been the first of Nick’s captaincy, and Kaiden’s first season in the league. It feels like a gross imbalance of power, like Nick’s taking advantage of Kaiden. Like he shouldn’t be doing this.

It doesn't stop him.

He lets Kaiden put him on his back, lets Kaiden fuck inside him, digs his nails into Kaiden’s shoulder, and moans about it. 

/ 

Nick doesn’t read stories about himself but he does try to keep up with the ones about the rookies. He’s learnt better by now than to seek out opinions about himself, but those guys haven’t. They read that stuff. So he reads it too, tries to keep on top of what words he knows will burrow their ways into their minds so he can do his part and pick them out. 

So he reads the articles. Pays extra attention to some of them—like the ones for Kaiden.

He knows that everyone always compares Kaiden to Webs. 

It’s not fair, in some ways. Kaiden’s just a rookie to the league, and it’s too much pressure to put on him. Trying to hold him up against a guy with multiple Olympic gold medals, a guy known as one of the best captains of his time, a guy who Nick’s heard more than a few rumours will be getting into the Hall of Fame by the end of the summer isn’t fair. 

In other ways, Nick gets it. He recognizes that look in Kaiden’s eyes when he feels like someone’s fucking with one of his guys, recognizes the way he bares his teeth in a smile when he’s hit a guy just fucking right. He sees the way he leads, the quiet confidence. Can practically see a ghost of the A he knows Kaiden will wear on his chest at some time. 

But one thing Nick can admit the difference in is one that no one else knows. It’s how it feels to sleep with both of them. 

The sex isn’t bad by any means—Nick’s not a martyr—but it isn’t what Shea was. What Nick realized he liked.

Kaiden fucks him and he fucks Nick good, even pulls on Nick’s hair when he’s on his knees, slaps his ass and presses him down into the bed while fucking him. But he doesn’t put Nick exactly where he wants him, doesn’t shove his face down into the sheets when he’s fucking Nick and Nick’s moaning too loud, doesn’t spit on Nick’s hole, his face. 

Kaiden’s never been with a guy before, doesn't bring that mean streak from the ice into Nick's bed and it shows. 

But he’s good. And Nick sees that hard look in his eyes sometimes, sees the clench in his jaw, that way that he looks at Nick after a game where he’s keyed up. He wonders what if?

/ 

It isn’t like Nick is using Kaiden to replace Shea. He isn't closing his eyes and thinking of Shea when Kaiden’s fucking him.

He likes Kaiden. Likes his smile, likes how he teases Nick, likes how he remembers Nick’s favourite food, how he holds Nick after rough nights

But Shea had taken him, fresh faced, young and new to Montreal. Fucked him for the first time when Nick was 20 and taught him to love to take it the way Shea liked to give it. 

He’d gotten Nick used to how good it could be, to have this through the season and in stolen time through the summer

So when he’s spending his nights with Kaiden, it’s hard not to remember, to compare.

It’s good sex. It is. But sometimes, afterwards, when Nick’s carding his fingers through Kaiden’s hair, he thinks that it could be even better. 

/ 

Kaiden doesn’t get mad off ice all that much. He doesn’t get mad at Nick pretty much ever. But he’s mad tonight. 

It’s not like Nick can blame him. He gets why Kaiden’s so mad. 

Nick had known right away that he’d fucked up the second he’d said it. I wish you’d fuck me like Shea did, he’d said in between kisses, all the liquor from the night making his tongue loose. 

Kaiden had stopped, had moved away from Nick before Nick could blink. 

“I didn’t mean…” Nick starts, before trailing off. His heart is pounding rabbit fast in his chest. He wants it to make it stop. Wishes he could rewind this moment. 

“Didn’t mean what?” Kaiden asks, his mouth twisted. “That you wished I was as good as your last fuckbuddy?” 

Fuckbuddy. The words feel lacking. 

Kaiden goes on. “Have you been fucking me the entire time thinking of him?” he asks. 

“No,” Nick says. Insists. 

“You expect me to believe that?” Kaiden says, shaking his head. “Do you bend over for anyone you think can be him?” 

Nick flinches. It’s cruel. It’s meant to be. 

“I don’t think you’re him,” Nick says quietly. 

“Yeah, you don’t,” Kaiden says, shaking his head. “Apparently, I’m not good enough to be him.” He pauses, laughs, an ugly sound. “What, you’re gonna try Arber next?” 

He doesn’t bother relishing in the hurt that Nick knows is painted all over his expression, is out of the apartment before Nick can speak. 

(Btw in my mind, after they work their way through this drama, Nick, Kaiden and Shea will have a threesome where the main objective is Shea teaching Kaiden how to really fuck Nick up) 

[kitweewoos]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard Additional Tags: Developing Relationship, Fluff, Laughter, Drunken Shenanigans, Drag Queens, Ficlet Series: Part 28 of 2024 Prompts Summary:

Tommy loves Buck's laugh.

[hebuiltfive]

Hellooo!

How about our boy Scotty and #22?

Hellooo! Thank you for the ask! My words were not wording, so I hope this is okay and makes sense (I did read it back, but I don't think my brain is firing properly). Also I wasn't sure how to end it so apologies for the sudden finish! We're travelling back in time for some Wee!Tracys for this one!

(#22: You've Got Something On Your Face from 30 Gentle Prompts)

Pie

Time-keeping was a skill that little Scott was very proud of having. The watch Jeff had bought him for his recently passed ninth birthday had been a cherished present and Scott had worn it with every outfit, even when the bright blue of the watch didn’t exactly match the attire chosen. He didn’t care. It helped him keep track of time which, as he often pointed out to his younger siblings, was a very important thing to do.

Hence why Scott became irate this morning.

Before bed, he had asked his father all the necessary questions regarding how long it would take to drive out to the track and what time would be best for him to set his alarm. Jeff had helped him navigate the itinerary before tucking him in for the night and wrestling with Lucille over Scott not needing to be so organised at the tender age of nine. Scott had heard part of their conversation, but their words had soon drowned out as sleep claimed him.

When he had woken in the morning, he was on time and raring to go. His bag had been packed the night before so all he had to worry about was getting ready to leave, but that was when it all went wrong.

He strolled downstairs, his bag grasped excitedly in his hand, prepared to see his father waiting to drive him over to the club… Only Jeff wasn’t in the living room. He wasn’t on the front porch and, when Scott traipsed through to the kitchen, he noticed he wasn’t there either.

Virgil was sat at the table. In one hand, he held a spoon that was dripping with milk and cereal. In the other, he held an orange coloured crayon, which currently held more of his attention. When Scott entered, Virgil’s head lifted.

“Dad had to go over to Grandpa’s. Something had happened.”

Scott’s heart sunk. “What? What happened?”

“Nothing bad!” Virgil quickly amended at the look of dread on his older brother’s face. “Grandpa said it was urgent though, and Dad said he would have been back by now.”

Scott slammed his bag onto the table before lifting himself into one of the dining chairs with a huff.

Virgil steadied his bowl of breakfast with a tut. “Careful! You’ll ruin my homework!”

“What are you working on?” Scott asked, peering over the box of cereal to try and make out what Virgil had been colouring. Being on the opposite side of the table, it took Scott a minute to decipher the picture. “Is that a pigeon?”

“No! We’re studying regional birds. This is the titmouse.” He held up the orange colour proudly. “He has some orange around his sides!”

“Orange is boring. You should colour it blue.”

“It wouldn’t be accurate.”

“So? It would look cooler.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, throwing over another sheet of paper towards Scott. It landed upside down but, when Scott flipped it over, he noticed an already completed picture.

“That’s a bluejay.” Virgil explained as Scott’s eyes widened.

“I’ve seen these! There were some in one of the parks when me and Dad visited Wichita last month.”

“You can keep it.”

Scott’s eyes tore away from the perfectly coloured in picture — honestly, Virgil had a real talent for his art projects — to glance back at his brother. “What about your homework?”

“I only needed to do one, but I got inspired so I did them all. You can keep that one.”

Before he could utter his thanks aloud, Lucille walked into the kitchen with John trailing behind her. When she caught sight of Scott, he expression saddened. “Scott, honey, I’m so sorry but you might have to join the afternoon class today. Your dad did say he’d be back by now but…”

“It’s alright. Virgil coloured me in a bird.” Scott held up the picture for his mother to see.

“That’s lovely, sweetie.” She smiled fondly and then ruffled his hair. “Now, breakfast?”

Scott frowned. “But what if dad gets home when I’m eating?”

“You shouldn’t really start the day without breakfast, Scot. What about some cereal, like Virgil? Or I could make you some pancakes if you’d prefer.”

A dull thud and then the cries of a toddler came from the next room. Lucille ran out to check on Gordon before she noticed Scott’s grimace at her suggestions.

“Mommy is right, Scotty.” Virgil said, as John clambered up onto one of the chairs to join his older brothers. “Food is good.”

Scott rolled his eyes. He wasn’t particularly hungry and he hadn’t planned on having anything before his first day of training. Though he wouldn’t admit it to any of them, he had been feeling anxious all night. His sports teacher had signed him up for the track club after claiming he saw potential in Scott, and Scott had been excited to start ever since he’d agreed to give the club a go, but now the day had approached, he was nothing but nervous. Eating was the last thing on his mind.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Just have something small.” Virgil offered his bowl. “You can have the rest of mine, if you’d like?”

Scott shook his head. Cereal, especially the kind that was now soggy from being left in the milk too long, was the least appealing option. He jumped off the chair and scoured the kitchen. Both Virgil and John watched him curiously as he opened cupboards and debated between boxes and tins. Eventually, during his perusal of the refrigerator, he caught sight of the remainder of Mom’s freshly made apple pie and his eye brightened.

He took the pie from the shelf and placed it on the counter. Once he retrieved a clean plate from one of the cupboards, Scott carefully sliced himself a piece. He was acutely aware of his two brothers staring at him. Smugly, he returned the rest of the pie to the fridge and then took his seat at the table again.

“That isn’t breakfast!” Virgil claimed as Scott began to tuck into the pie.

“Mom said I had to eat. This is what I want to eat.”

“But it isn’t healthy!”

Scott’s eyes flitted from Virgil’s horrified expression to John’s curious gaze. He shrugged. “It tastes good though.”

“Mommy said pie is for the puds.” John frowned, finally understanding what his older brother had chosen to do and deciding to show he was unhappy about it. “Not morning time!”

Another couple of bites of pie were taken and Scott rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, Johnny. Mom won’t know. I’ll eat it really fast, look!”

But John had already jumped down from the table and had left the kitchen. 

Unfazed, Scott continued to eat at a hurried pace. Whilst he technically didn’t do anything wrong by helping himself to the apple pie, he didn’t fancy having to explain his choices to Lucille and so wanted to be rid of any evidence before she returned.

“Ew, Scott, slow down! You’re getting crumbs everywhere!”

“Stop bein’ such a baby, ‘Gil.” He involuntary spat more crumbs everywhere, causing Virgil to cover his colouring to avoid the sheet getting tainted.

It took Scott no less than a few minutes to finish the plate. He grinned widely. “See? Nothing to worry about!”

Virgil clamped a hand over his mouth as the front door to the ranch clicked open and Jeff’s voice boomed through to them.

“Scotty? Ready to go?”

With furrowed brows of confusion at his younger brother’s obvious amusement, Scott hopped off the dining chair. The pie sat heavy in his stomach as he jumped, the nervousness beginning to set back in again, but he pushed it aside.

Just as Scott was about to run through to greet Jeff, Lucille appeared from the next room. She stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Slow down. You’ll cause an accident— Oh, Scotty.”

There was a glint of amusement in her eyes that matched Virgil’s quiet giggles.

Scott frowned. “What?”

“What have I told you about leaving those pies for pudding, not for breakfast?”

His cheeks warmed. “I didn’t…”

“No? So why is your little face covered in the red sauce and crumbs?”

His mother’s fingers carefully wiped at the corners of his mouth as she asked him her question. There was no accusatory tone, only soft delight.

Scott batted her fingers away. How embarrassing! “Mom! Stop! It’s fine! I’m already late!”

Behind him, Virgil was finding it hard to contain his chuckles. 

Scott offered him a glare, finally realising what his younger brother had found so funny. “You didn’t even tell me!”

“You would have found out eventually! That’s what happens when you eat something you’re not supposed to, Scotty.”

“Boys.” Jeff stood behind his wife in the doorway. “No fighting.”

“We wasn’t fighting.” Virgil clarified, his smile still large and beaming despite his inaccurate phrasing.

“We were about to.” Scott mumbled before being ushered out of the kitchen by Lucille.

Jeff took Scott’s shoulders to direct him through to the porch. “Come on, let’s get you going. We can make it for the afternoon class and… Scott, why are your clothes covered in pie crumbs?”

[who-scrambled-my-ocs]

Eggs

This started as fave egg recipes and devolved into anything involving “egg” XD

Also not everyone’s on here cause some didn’t inspire anything really interesting. I can add if asked B)

-

Neora: Living in Arcaelys, the land of the elves, most of her experiences have been with sweet foods and dishes. Beyond cakes and patisserie, she rarely gets variety in egg dishes. She thus doesn’t often cook it for herself and prefers alternatives during breakfast like toast with jams and butters.

However, on her visits to her mother she has often been treated to highly savoury foods like egg curry, egg chatamari, and the highly popular spicy fried boiled eggs which has left her with a nostalgic craving each time she heads back home with her dad. Her dad has occasionally requested herbs in order to make it as the occasional treat for them both during special occasions as she grew up. One of the few Arcaelys raised elves who often eats savoury foods

-

Tireal: similar palette to his daughter Neora, if perhaps more elven inclined. Enjoys sweet egg dishes greatly and is less prepared for the spicy dishes his ex-wife prepared for him and their daughter, often being left red faced and wheeze-laughing through tears as his littol girl giggled at his silly face, smiling fond at the chuckles of his former partner

-

Evan: Scrambled, he likes to crack the eggs straight in the pan and toss the shells in one swift move, which has been upgraded to Taren the moss-fae-fox snatching em up midair to crunch on as excellent fertiliser for his fur, much to Evan’s amusement.

Evan himself will continue to shake and agitate the eggs until they’re fluffy with light crunchy bits in between, adding some thyme, salt and pepper to the mix. If he’s making breakfast meat with it, he’ll use the oil of that to fry said eggs in

-

Sia: Usually sunny side up. But doesn’t even actually like eggs all that much, and has had the existential crises thought of wondering if that’s because she’s technically a Mythical Bird

However that thought was quickly confuddled upon observing little Raspberry absolutely going to town on an egg, pecking and chipping it to smithereens, gulping it down faster than she could think, and then watching Raspberry fly off into the sunrise to build another nest. An experience which has left her with a whirlwind of thoughts about biology, life, magic, her own self, and what it all means in the grand scheme of things despite Fate not existing.

Drowns her sunny side up eggs in cinnamon now so she does not have to go through another existential rabbit hole while eating breakfast with everyone present. Can’t think about eggs when ya can’t taste em. Hehe…

-

Felix: An absolute feast at his theìa’s house, scrambled eggs with tomatoes fried in olive oil, oregano, basil and crumbled feta on top. Something he’d devoured in a hurry with his brother and cousins, before rushing out the door to play as his mama and theìa gossiped the hot day away, a full stomach warming his thin frame as dust swirled around his running feet.

Something he took so greatly for granted, as all kids do, and shed tears over when he ate again at his theìa’s house many, many years later. Felix’s soft spot is food, and the feeling of being finally satiated after a meal is a feeling he treasures dearly with every spoonful of delicious kayanas and his theìa fussing over him

-

Lucas: Despite appearances, Lucas is as much an excellent cook as his husband is, considering he learned much from him. His literal sea life diet of raw fish and unfortunate human flesh has long been put aside for more, palatable sushi and richer, livelier, Chosen prey.

As thus, he has learned to cook his meals with a patience that is almost reverent as he carefully lowers eggs in perfectly cooked sauce, poaching them to a perfect consistency. Uova All’inferno, Eggs in purgatory in Italian, and yes, he still enjoys gulping them whole with an amused irony at the name as he considers his own nature. But its rich and warm and perfectly done, and he savours every moment of it

-

Bruno: Frittata al tartufo, Uova All’inferno, Frittata di zucchine, Deviled eggs, etc etc etc. He’s had so many egg dishes he’s long lost count of all he’s tried, and all he’s made uniquely his own. With so many recipes, one would expect something fancy and rich and over the top to be his favourite, no?

Surprisingly, it’s the simple dish that captures his interest best here. A simple sunny side up, cooked very similar to Lucas’s own purgatory poached eggs, heaped with flavourful ingredients on the side true. But the simple egg yolk is allowed to shine as it practically melts over the rest of the dish, adding a rich flavouring only the basics sometimes can give, being a spotlight on their own.

-

Lewis: Easter eggs. As a baker and pattiserier he would often spent countless hours painting food safe dyes onto chocolate eggs, placing a basket up front of his shop for the kids to come and choose one out of.

Had an extra special batch he’d make just for Mairae and her kids, blushing greatly as he offered the sweet strawberry filled treats to the trio and sighing fondly as they left his shop, happy for the rest of the day (but no he definitely wasn’t in love. Definitely not. No no)

-

Flint and Rho: Both love a good hard boiled egg, with Flint chomping into it and eventually eating it straight whole as he grows bigger than the egg. Rho will take sweet little bites, and make happy smacks and coos in between each nibble

-

Yarrow: Who cares about what Sia and Evan’s deadbeat dad liked? But for lore sake it will be said, he never learned to properly cook. Mooched off his parents spoiling and complained constantly about everything put on his plate to them. “Praised” Mairae highly on her learning how to cook human dishes early in the relationship while simultaneously chipping at her self confidence with passively hurtful comments, knowing full well what he was doing.

Rotten fucking egg through and through

-

Juliette: *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

-

Denise *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

-

Seth: *spoilers. Reminder to add once introduced*

[jo1sstuff]

A tag said, "oh this idea but in a gomens au where crowley and aziraphale never met or something......"

And I have to agree.

You thought you were the only immortal and thus, have sworn to never date. One night, however, chilling at bar, you have a frankly disinterested conversation with someone, until they let it slip that they have went through something that happened over a century ago…

[icehearts]

18 - what is something they wish to try? why haven't they tried this yet?

Oh this is a good one. Thank you for the ask!

[ sexuality headcanons & questions ]

Secretly, or not-so-secretly, Esca wonders what it'd be like if someone else took the lead. (Take that as you will fl;ajgf;l.) That requires a great deal of trust, though, and it's exceedingly difficult for her to trust anyone like that. She's far too comfortable holding the reins (figuratively. sometimes literally?) in most situations, and being at the mercy of someone else is exciting but also very very scary and she'd rather just. Not.

However! In her wol!AU, she does eventually reach that level of trust with Thancred and feels safe enough to switch things up. ("MY TURN" and so on and so forth.)