#which is both impressive and also mildly confusing

[kalied0skull]

Lost the game

inboxing

coughs

is this like becoming a permanent thing now or 💀

like should i just quit the game so i don't have to keep losing

because quite frankly i think if I'm just losing... ever single day... and I don't get any recharge... i think that means I'm out

and like I don't think about it

until i get an ask in my inbox

so like

looks around

wtf am i supposed to do? 😭

[panerasbox]

—FLOUR,FIRE,&FEELINGS; 8 Days To Go

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x fem!Reader.

Genre: fluff with implied smut

Word count: 1k.

summary: you just wanted to cook something nice for Melissa. Instead, you nearly burned down the kitchen.

30 DAYS OF MELISSA SCHEMMENTI MASTERLIST

You spent the entire day preparing. Recipes printed, ingredients prepped, music on— Tori Amos, obviously, because you were feeling dramatic. Melissa deserved something special, and you were going to cook for her, even if your last attempt at pasta had ended in smoke. Literally.

You imagined her walking through the door, tired from work, smelling garlic and basil and immediately melting into a puddle of appreciation and passion. You wanted to be the romantic surprise. The domestic goddess.

Instead, the smoke alarm went off. Three times.

The pasta was stuck to the bottom of the pot. The sauce was watery but also somehow burnt. The garlic bread had gone full charcoal briquette. And there was flour in your hair.

Melissa opened the door, her expression shifting from confusion to suspicion the moment she smelled the air.

“You cookin’?” she asked, eyeing the kitchen like it owed her money.

“Surprise?” you said weakly, brandishing a wooden spoon like a white flag.

She blinked. “You tryin’ to kill me?”

“I was trying to make dinner!”

“You used the good olive oil for this?”

“…yes?”

Melissa sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose, and walked into the kitchen. “Move. I’m takin’ over before you burn the whole damn block down.”

You stood back, cheeks flushed, trying not to feel completely crushed.

Until she turned back to you, grinning.

“But points for effort, hon. You look real cute covered in disaster.”

Within ten minutes, your culinary crime scene was transformed into something that smelled edible. Delicious, even.

You sat on the counter, swinging your legs and sulking mildly, still dusted with flour.

“Stop pouting,” she said without looking at you. “You already did the hard part.”

“Which part was that?”

“Making me laugh. And letting me see you like this. You don’t gotta be perfect.”

You melted a little inside. Maybe a lot.

She handed you a spoon of sauce to taste.

“Be honest,” she said.

You tasted. Moaned. “God, marry me.”

Melissa smirked. “Cook first, propose later.”

You watched her, mesmerized. Her rolled-up sleeves. Her focused brow. The way she tasted the sauce off her finger like it was no big deal and completely ruined your ability to form coherent thoughts.

You hopped down and walked over to wrap your arms around her from behind. “You’re a kitchen witch.”

“I’ll put you in a pot and stir if you don’t sit back down.”

You stayed put. And fell even harder for her.

The dishes were technically done, though Melissa had rewashed everything you’d “cleaned” with a judgmental squint and a lot of muttering under her breath about soap actually being necessary.

You were now both curled on the couch, one blanket between you, Melissa’s hand lazily rubbing your thigh while your head rested on her shoulder.

“You do realize,” Melissa said, “you’re never allowed near my stove unsupervised again.”

“What if it’s for toast?”

“You almost set a bagel on fire in the microwave, babe.”

She chuckled and kissed your hair. “You’ve got other talents,” she added. “Better ones.”

“Like what?”

“You’re an excellent taste-tester. Very enthusiastic.”

“And you’re pretty damn cute when you’re trying to impress me.”

“I just love you, that’s all,” you said quietly.

Melissa reached up, cupped your face, and kissed you.

“You’re already somethin’ special,” she said. “Don’t gotta prove that to me.”

“…So no more surprise dinners?” you asked.

“We’ll compromise. You pick the wine. I’ll cook.”

“And dessert?”

“You can unwrap the cannoli box real dramatic-like.”

You laughed into her neck. You’d never be a good cook, but with Melissa, you didn’t need to be.

The next morning, you woke up determined to start the day right.

Which meant two things:

1. Make Melissa coffee.

2. Not set anything on fire.

You filled the compartment and pressed a button you hoped was the right one.

The machine groaned like it was dying.

Melissa walked in, hair mussed, voice gravelly. “You tryin’ to kill the Keurig?”

“I wanted to make you coffee! But I might’ve summoned a demon instead.”

Melissa nudged you aside. “You filled the water too high. Again.”

You leaned dramatically on the cabinet. “I swear I’m good at literally everything else.”

She smirked. “You’re just a public safety hazard around appliances.”

You wrapped your arms around her. “So I’m banned from the kitchen and the coffee station?”

“Only if you’re unsupervised. Which, lucky for you,” she whispered, “I got no plans to stop supervisin’.”

Six months later, you were back in Melissa’s kitchen—this time with full permission. Mostly.

“I just wanna help,” you said, dramatically tying on your apron.

“You can help. But if I see cinnamon near my sauce again, I’m throwin’ you out the window.”

“That was one time!”

Melissa handed you a grater. “Just the mozzarella. Don’t get ideas.”

You grated with wild enthusiasm. Cheese flew. Melissa hovered.

Eventually, she came up behind you, guiding your hands over the ricotta. “Now we layer.”

“Like… emotionally?”

“God help me,” she muttered, then kissed your neck.

Somehow, the lasagna made it into the oven. You leaned back, proud and cheesy.

“I think I deserve a kiss.”

Melissa kissed you. Then again. And again.

“Maybe I like you in my kitchen after all,” she said.

“Does this mean I’ve earned toaster privileges?”

She looked you dead in the eye.

“…No. You know what’d really impress me?” she murmured, lips brushing your ear. “You lettin’ me bend you over this counter.”

Your breath hitched. “In your kitchen?”

“In our kitchen,” she corrected, and then she was kissing you—slow, then fast.

You barely registered the stove cooling behind you before she spun you, your hands bracing on the marble. Her hands slid up your thighs, under your shirt. You whimpered when her fingers dug into your hips.

Clothes disappeared like they were never there. She was muttering in your ear, calling you her girl, so good for me—and you melted into the granite and her touch and the way she knew exactly where to press.

You moaned her name—desperate, drawn-out.

“Shhh,” she cooed. “You keep bein’ loud, the neighbors’ll think I murdered you in here.”

You turned your head to look at her, breathless. “What if I want them to know I died happy?”

Melissa grinned—dark, dangerous, and full of love. “Then I better finish the job.”

[itgirlgyu]

XDINARY HEROES and their roles in a messy romantic movie!

( 장르 ) humor. 𝓰en! — reader. 𖥨᩠ׄ݁.ི. WARNING! ི— im a shitposter before a human❕ 𝓦ord c𝓞unt : 0920! ps. i swear a lot ssshh.

⚘( ၴႅၴ  GAON—professional hint hopper.

it's absolutely crazy, and mildly astonishing how many signs he is able to hop over.

that one who friendzones the main character at first.

yet like an real fucking idiot, when the love interest is at the dawn of a real relationship; suddenly the tubelight on top of his head lights up and he realises it's been “the love interest” he has been in love with all this while.

crashes and burns (mostly because of someone).

loses one of their front teeth in one of those attempts to win them over as well.

it was jooyeon idea to think it would be good to moonwalk to impress the love interest.

and the best way to learn it overnight? attempting it on a soapy floor.

with a good chunk of his dignity lost (and a teeth), in their attempt to get back the love of their life,

ultimately at the end gaon decides to give up.

most likely in the airport, because that's where every defeated main lead ends up at the end of an angst since it's too embarrassing to stay in the country after the rejection and plane tickets become too cheap.

gaon looked back and see the love of their life running back to hin.

there might or might not be a divorce after the seemingly “happy ending.” in post credits.

⚘( ၴႅၴ  JUNGSU—perfect candidate.

literally the most perfect definition of a man in the entire storyline.

has every kind of insurance one can name.

respectful, sweet, handsome and probably rich too.

is very subtle in the beginning but as the story progresses gets very desperate by the minute.

the worst case of reverse psychology when the love interest does not show much interest in him, with a sprinkle of ego in the side.

sort of a ‘nice guy’ but less of incel-ism and more of may or may not go to your parents to gently manipulate them.

gets cast aside with a side hug.

has to grin and bear it all with no sparkle in the eyes.

is also forced to clap with everyone.

ends the story with a quick rebound with a very beautiful person or else he would look like a loser.

also pays for gaon’s root canal because he's a generous king.

⚘( ၴႅၴ  OD.E—the potential second husband.

nobody knows where he came from and nobody CARES!

the type to make a place in anyone's heart without even realising.

sort of perfect like jungsu, but without the air of pompousness around him.

with the best qualities of both gaon, and jungsu: he is the strongest candidate of them all.

but also gets swept into the politics of love by the other two and almost ends up always getting the brunt of their pranks and left behind.

by the end of the story, he shapes into a best friend character and helps the love interest to choose the one they love, even if he is in love with them.

he might, or might not end up at the second husband after the end credit rolls in.

⚘( ၴႅၴ  GUNIL—the instigator.

the wise one.

that's who he made everyone believe he is.

he is always calm, collected and zen and always seen meditating in some corner of the scene.

jungsu humble boasting about his new car? there's gunil in the background doing surya namaskar.

jooyeon has somehow caused gaon to choke in a singular shine muscat which he had left out to lure ode out? he is wrapping up his daily morning affirmations to carry out Heimlich's manoeuvre.

when the love interest has finally decided to choose one of the main characters, he's there saying something that completely turns the game over, confusing the love interest in once again.

survived at least one pillow on face attempt.

⚘( ၴႅၴ  JOOYEON—the obstacle.

tries to be the help in need when gaon comes out of his catatonic state after he realises that he might be in love, as his best friend.

is actually the help that no one needs.

he's always there: creating some issue in the name of doing lord's work.

even if the plan was perfect with no possibility of messing stuff up.

he's there to make the impossible possible.

does not realise he's the reason why everything is taking a u-turn coming to bite gaon in the back while they lament about the majorly screwed love life.

somehow, gaon doesn't clock it either.

tries to create situations that will paint gaon in a good look in front of the love interest.

spreads a rumor around that gaon saved a family from a burning house.

by the end of the day, gaon almost became the psychopath that burned a house down and clipped butterfly's wings.

ended up becoming the reason that knocked one of gaon’s teeth out.

⚘( ၴႅၴ  JUNHAN—the wildcard.

he's here, there and everywhere.

he's an engima at this point because brother is so cool he's just playing his guitar in a corner and now there's a crowd around.

somehow he's the man of everyone's dreams.

when asked for public opinion, most of them commented on his reluctantance to communicate.

someone: “junhan have you gotten the lice that's been going around the community?”

junhan: “...”

public: “see how dreamy”

jungsu personally has taken very great offense to it.

he may have the love interest crushing on him too at one point too.

doesn't matter because he disappears from the storyline due to plot armour.

(or else no one would get the love interest let's be honest.)

© ITGIRLGYU⠀⠀. feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated! TAGLiST @ox1-lovesick @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @forever-in-the-sky2 @beoms-sugar @full-sunnies

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

Do you think that Aegon was whitewashed this season? As in, they realised they went too far with him in s1 and wanted to rectify it in s2 at the expense of other characters, mostly aemond and alicent. The problem is, you can't retcon everything. He is still a bully and rapist in show canon, but for some reason they now want to downplay it and focus on his incompetence, but also on him wanting to make something right while constantly being undermined by his family. I can't even enjoy such a confusing arc because it's inconsistent and manipulative. Also, it seems they wanted to nip Aemond's popularity and propping up Aegon at his expense apparently worked. It's true that TGC is extremely likeable, he was even in s1 when they wanted to show his character as a drunken rapist who doesn't understand consent, and he is now when they want to show Aegon as a tragic victim of his traitorous and unsupportive family. However, it's not enough to rely on actor's talent and charm when the writing is all over the place. Finally, I must say that I'm really disappointed with the green fandom, I even had to left their sub on Reddit because of the hate they constantly throw at Alicent and even more, Aemond. Like someone on other blog said, they never turned on Aegon after s1, they were relentlessly stanning him and blamed everything on the writers, but now won't do the same for aemond. Seriously, Aegon stans behave identically as Daemyra stans and that is something. It's sad because I've liked both since s1 but it's a fact that the green side of the fandom is much harsher and unjust to aemond, it's enough to check out the mentioned subreddit and some blogs here to get the picture.

Hello!

I think that Aegon's character was not so much whitewashed as used for a very unsavory purpose which was to make other Green characters, especially Aemond and Alicent look bad (here is the link to a post where I expressed my opinion on that matter). In order for that to work there was not a lot of actual embellishment needed - Aegon's story is a compelling and a tragic one as it is. The problem, however, lies in that the writers did their damnedest to use the most touching and relatable aspects of his arc to the detriment of other characters - who were supposed to love, cherish and support him.

As for the fandom reactions, I have always had an impression that among the hardcore TG supporters sympathies for Aegon run wider and deeper than for Aemond anyway. IMO there is a combination of various reasons at work here: him being the leader and the beating heart of his faction (in the book, that is), his incredible character journey, the way Tom's charm and charisma fill even the underdeveloped and kind of warped show version of Aegon with color and life (if we're talking about the adaptation) - and/or the simple fact that someone likes one character more than the other, sometimes even without being able to name a reason for it.

The thing is - while it doesn't sit right with me when people are not willing to cut one character some slack and at the same time cut the other (their favourite one) all of it - I can't really judge the favoritism per se: we are all human after all. What I do have hard time stomaching is the fans (in that case Aegon's - or more precisely exclusively or heavily prevalently Aegon's fans) being unnecessarily vicious about it.

As someone who loves both Aegon and Aemond, I for that exact reason have always felt disheartened by seeing fans of one Targtower brother shitting on the other one (or even worse, the fans getting personal with each other). Over the two years of being in the Tumblr fandom I have seen a number of posts made by Aemond's fans where they bashed Aegon by downplaying his good qualities and heavily focusing on the negativity ("useless drunk", "atrocious bully" etc) - and obviously have never agreed with them (to put it mildly) and am not about to start agreeing now. But - even in comparison with that - not even the amount of the posts but the intensity of the hate Aemond has been getting from Aegon's supporters is something else. And the worst part is that some of the posts I saw positively reek (sorry, I can't use any other word here) of schadenfreude. Guys, I understand the anger and frustration about having your character being heavily mistreated by the writers (which is exactly what happened to Aegon in season 1) - in fact I was right there with you when it happened. But now, when the exact same thing is happening to other character, maybe you can recall just how much it sucked and hold yourself back a little? Yes, Aemond is being brought down in great part by the script having him treat Aegon horribly, so your current lack of love for the former is understandable. But in season 1 the same was happening in reverse (although to a considerably milder degree - brotherly bullying, as shitty as it might be, doesn't equal an attempt on one's brother's life) - and in spite of some Aemond fans tearing Aegon to shreds in their blogs I personally saw far more people who like Aemond still expressing their irritation and outrage about the way Aegon was written in season 1. I am not trying to shut anyone up - but is making an effort to show some understanding and compassion for your fellow Greenies so much to ask? HotD has all but destroyed the Greens as a team and a family - but the fans don't have to (if you ask me - should not) mirror that atrocity.

[neurodivergantizzetwitch]

ive been hearing a lot of legitimate criticism of will wood and his fan base from people who like his music, but see him as a pretentious white guy, and his fanbase as an extension of that.

now i havent been in the ww fandom v long, but given the depths i have gone in it i feel at least somewhat comfortable saying im not sure exactly where this impression is coming from.

i see him writing very eclectic erratic and idiosyncratic songs, and people having a variety of interpretations of them, and i can see how that might come off as pretentiousness, especially bc some of his fans really do cross a line in terms of a gatekeepy parasocial attachment to will

but i haven't really seen anyone going THIS IS THE ONLY WAY TO INTERPRET THIS SONG YOURE STUPID IF YOU DONT SEE IT or smth to that effect

i acknowledge tho that there is also some legitimate background to this perception, bc what i have seen is:

-will playing characters live and joking w his audience in ways that are often either easily misinterpreted or clearly just someone with extreme mental health issues

-will being maybe mildly annoyed at how his fans often... over analyze his songs and upset when they overstep boundaries, and sometimes expressing that in non ideal ways.

-wills fans being incredibly obsessed with him and his music, which to the outside observer can be annoying i think (but honestly this to me reads more as a bunch of nd ppl w who have hyperfixated/have a special interest related to him)

-the lyrics to wills songs all being very confusing, especially the farther back in his discography you go, and his fans acting like their meanings are obvious on a first glance even when they arent (which is all the time)

-will pulling references from sources that can be seen as pretentious and off putting, esp when coming from a white guy (taoism, it's always sunny, modern psychology, 'classic' films, name dropping authors of philosophy, etc.)

-wills stances often being contrarian and often (especially on first glance) seemingly being that way purely for the sake of being contrarian

-will explaining his stances in fancy and grandiloquent language (a note on this one in particular: i think of this as not really a sign of being pretentious, potentially bc of my own struggles w it. i often accidentally use a bunch of complicated words and descriptions that wouldn't make sense to me if i was the one hearing them, not because im trying to be exclusionary or come off as ✨intelligent✨, but bc it was explained to me in those terms and i went through the process of studying it in that terminology and being told i had to use that terminology, and now im too dumb to translate what im thinking back into language that's actually comprehensible)

but i feel that a lot of these things are really overstated in how often they happen. by and large, i think a lot of this response is a misreading of the facts that his fanbase is really passionate to a somewhat obsessive degree, will is very passionate about the things he likes and the things he believes in, and both will and the majority of his fan base are pretty mentally unstable and/or neurodivergent.

from what ive seen, will isn't trying to be pretentious in any way and is legitimately just expressing himself. his fanbase despite their occasional issues are ultimately pretty much just very passionate people. and also he does not hate them! to quote the man himself

"guys, i don't hate you! stop telling people i hate you! stop doing that; i like you people! 99.999 percent of you are really good, and 99.999 percent of the people who piss me off are just going through it! i don't know where people are getting this idea the whole like 'will wood hates his fandom' yeah i know i said i hate you all in that song but... you know, it's a song! i like you guys."

if you have counter info/arguments though id love to see them. im always looking for new perspectives, and as i said ive *just* started listening to will wood and looking into his lore. i couldve totally missed smth and id love to hear it if i have.

[daisyishedwig]

@lusthurts tagged me this week, so for them specifically I'm going to share a cut scene from my McKinley 'Verse (that might make its way into a one-shot one day) but then I'm also going to share what I've actually been writing on this week, which is a Sebklaine fic.

He smirked. “What did you do to the football team to get them this worked up this quickly? You’ve been here two days.” Sebastian ignored him, moving past to get to the paper towels. He gathered a handful and dried his face, scrunching his hair in them to try and sop up as much water as he could even if he knew his coif was helplessly ruined.  The boy was still there, watching him expectantly. “One of them said he heard all French guys are cocksuckers.” Sebastian turned and leveled the boy with a hard stare. “I told him that his face was making me reconsider my attraction to men.”  He looked mildly impressed. “Coming out on your first day is certainly a bold choice. Especially in this school.” “Yeah,” Sebastian said, grabbing more towels to dab at his grey polo, “I’d heard this place was a hell-hole.” “Couldn’t convince your parents to send you elsewhere?” he asked, he was watching Sebastian’s futile scrubbing with amusement.  “My father,” he huffed, giving up and tossing the towels in the trash, “said it would build character. Straighten me out, so to speak.”

and the Sebklaine fic!

“How comfortable are you with me?”  Kurt slowly lifted his head from where he had it buried in a pillow on Sebastian’s couch. Sebastian lived alone, and when work and school and Rachel all became too much for Kurt to handle, it was the only place he knew he could go to exist in silence for a while. Even if Blaine was already there, he knew that Kurt showing up at Sebastian’s unannounced meant it was quiet time, and he certainly didn’t mind letting his boyfriend lay his head in his lap while he silently read or did homework. But it was just Sebastian today, Blaine’s other boyfriend and Kurt’s… friend. It didn’t always feel entirely platonic but they had yet to address changing the label, so friend was all it was for now. But he knew they were both simply dancing around the subject, waiting for the other to make a move to change it. And Blaine, for as much as he loved the idea of them all being together, was leaving that decision entirely up to them. Sebastian’s arms were folded tight across his chest. His brow drawn in deep contemplation as he waited for Kurt to answer. “Well, I came to your place to disassociate so I didn’t do it in public, so… decently comfortable.”  Sebastian sighed and dropped into the arm chair at the end of the couch.  Kurt pushed himself up on his elbows. “What’s up?” “Would you… be comfortable…” Sebastian leaned forward and rubbed his hands over his face, “participating in sex… with me there?” Sebastian said each phrase slowly like he was just waiting for Kurt to shut him down at any second.  Kurt pushed himself fully to sitting. “That is very strange way for you to ask me to fuck you, Smythe.” Sebastian groaned. “It’s not… you wouldn’t be having sex with me, you’d be having sex with Blaine and I would just… also be there. Possibly also having sex with Blaine. But we wouldn’t… we’re not… I’m not…” Sebastian shook his head, “nevermind, it was just a–” “Hold up,” Kurt said raising his hand to stop him, ““I’m confused… but I’m listening, walk me through what you’re thinking.”

and I'll tag @cryscendo, @kurtsascot, @bitbybitwrites, and @wowbright this week

[idiotwithanipad]

Gore Au: A Look To The Past

(Sequel to Witch and Nobelman, where Humphrey gets to see Amy's childhood)

The last thing Humphrey remembered was the twirling little tornado of smoke billowing into his brow, then followed the sensation of falling. Falling straight downwards very fast. His stomach flipped and he couldn't resist the urge to fling his arms forward to catch himself before he could hit the ground.

But he collided with nothing. His feet were still planted firmly on the ground. But beneath them was not leaves and twigs like he remembered there being. Instead, beneath his feet was carpet. Or more accurate, a rug. It coated the floor or the thin hall he stood in. The walls a light beige, poorly painted. The hall was so narrow that he could lift both arms at his sides, without even straightening them, and press his palms flush against each wall.

This was hardly a house, it was tiny, cramped, dark and cold. Mould coated almost every high corner and chipping paint and slight impressions of dirty handprints were smeared in random spots. It wasn't a building he recognized at all. In childhood travels to the city, he'd seen a public privy bigger than this.

A slight murmuring sound caught his ear. Off to his right, a battered white door sat in his eyeline. Halfway down the door was a dent, chipped and splintered. Clearly someone had tried to put either their foot or knee through it.

The murmuring was very quiet, a mere lilt. Humphrey couldn't make out what was being uttered, it wasn't a voice he'd heard before. Seconds passed and he heard the muffled pitter-patter of feet beyond the door, followed by what sounded like another door closing.

His brow furrowed in confusion, and he felt compelled to inspect. He pressed his palm to the door and pushed it open. The handle flopped downwards with a squeak as it swayed lifelessly towards the floor. Broken.

Inside the room was drastically different from the hall. The walls, a baby lilac, little heart stickers decorated the chipped skirting boards. White curtains, slightly moulding at the hems. A little blue plastic table and chair set by the wall with pages of doodles and scribbles in cheap felt tip pen. The smallest little bed he'd ever seen lie lopsided and slightly bent by the wall, with what looked like a princess decorating the sheets.

Clearly a little girl's bedroom. Though he'd never seen such colours and materials in his own time.

A sound knocked him off of concentration. A tiny fumble which sounded similar to someone accidentally knocking their arm against the side. It came from within a small wardrobe in the left corner of the room. He kept his eyes on the two doors fixed crudely in place; one good push and the whole structure would plumit to the floor.

"Who's in there?..." He asked aloud, mildly unsettled. After a pause, one of the doors to the wardrobe creaked open with a droaning wail. A little girl. Just a little girl. She sat, tucked up tightly inside the wardrobe. Her flesh pallid and lightly freckled. Her ebony hair which just barely reached the center of her back was pushed back by a thick plastic mauve hairband, save for her fringe. Her clothing looked big on her, loose, baggy and not very remarkable at all.

A long sleeve white shirt with thin horizontal black stripes and a pale purple denim dungaree dress which ended just above her knees.

The sight of the little girl staring up at him from inside the dark wardrobe made him melt with sympathy, but also made him shudder with unease. The girl's eyes were puffy and redened, and it showed greatly in the dim light. Her bottom lip trembled at she met his eyes. Humphrey held up his hand and stepped closer.

"What you doing in there? You alright?"

The girl rubbed her sleeve under her eye and grotesquely snorted back a glob of snot. She didn't answer him, but regarded him curiously, like she'd seen him somewhere before. Her big eyes blinked and darted towards each detail of his attire.

Without any time to think of another question, the girl let out a squeal and jumped out of the wardrobe. She sped over to him like an unsteady foal and clung to his legs. She giggled and clung to fistfulls of his cloak. Humphrey felt the air leave his lungs and his limbs turn to concrete as the little child fussed at his knees.

She looked up at him and smiled, some teeth missing from her gums. He gingerly reached down and stroked his palm along her hair, confused but enamored by her cuteness. Why was she so familiar all of a sudden?

She released him but kept gripping the end of his cloak in her fist.

"Where'th mummy?" She asked pitifully. A heavy lisp whistling through her teeth.

"Mummy?..." Humphrey repeated, unsure and on the spot. The girl nodded.

"My mummy. She went out'thide a long time ago and she hath'nt come back"

Humphrey looked to the window. Pitch black outside, all he could see in the window was his own mirror reflection staring back at him.

He crouched.

"When'd you last see 'mummy' ?"

The girl's eyes drifted from his, an unnaturally solem expression for a girl her age melted onto her face.

"Mummy wa'th talking on the phone. She th'aid... 'I'm on my way'...and she hath'nt come home yet"

There was an innocent ignorance in the girl's eyes as she swayed shyly in her spot and continued to hold onto the bottom of his cloak. Humphrey already didn't like the sound of this.

"How long ago was that, Poppet?" 'Poppet'? No. He shouldn't call her that. He only calls his Amy tha-

His gut dropped.

She pointed to the window.

"It wa'th th'till daylight out'thide"

Humphrey remembered the darkness beyond the glass, that that mattered very little to him at the moment. He drew in a hitched breath.

"Is your name 'Amy'?"

The girl nodded.

His heart felt like it could burst. For a second, he'd forgotten that this was all the Witch's work. She'd sent him back to a time when Amy was still small, like he'd requested. He wanted to see her past, if all that the Witch was saying was true, he needed to see it for himself. Regret pinched at his heart. But it immediately dispersed when he remembered the little tot at his feet, looking up at him begging for help.

He placed his hand on her shoulder softly.

"It'll be okay, Poppet"

The girl's brow scrunched in confusion and she blinked.

"Juth't have to wait until Mummy come'th home" The girl shrugged sadly. She turned away from him and darted back to the wardrobe. Humphrey feared that she would climb inside and shut herself away again, but instead, she reached behind the door and brought back with her a stuffed tiger. It's once fluffy fur reduced to matted clumps.

"This i'th Billy" She proclaimed, holding up the little toy for him to take. Humphrey glanced down at the teddy and gently took it in hand. It was covered in ink stains and slightly torn at the joints. It reeked of stale tobacco and felt almost damp to the touch.

"Ah. Well he's something, isn't he?" Humphrey gave a smile, hoping he didn't look too appalled. The girl wasn't focused on him, in fact, she hand already crawled beneath her bed and pulled out another toy. A little wind up toy no bigger than the girl's hand. A cheeky looking mouse with floppy ears and plastic whiskers.

"This i'th Cheese" She smiled, once again, handing the toy to Humphrey; He hoped he wouldn't have an armful of them by the time she was done.

The sound of uneaven shoes ascending the concrete stairs outside made Humphrey look back to the broken door.

The girl's happy grin dropped and she rushed to Humphrey's side.

"It'th Mummy"

Humphrey went to place 'Billy' and 'Cheese' down onto the little table, but the girl was quicker. She hurriedly began to push at him, herding him into the wardrobe.

"Amy? What-"

She brought her finger to her lips, fear in her eyes.

"Shh. Mummy will be angry if she see'th you. Shh" Amy closed the wardrobe door, sealing Humphrey inside. Sections of his cloak remained jammed in the door, so she poked and pushed at them to fit them into the wardrobe out of sight.

She rushed to her bed and climbed inside, hiding under the sheets.

From inside the blackened wardrobe, Humphrey could still hear the shoes outside. A bundle of keys turned in the front door and what sounded like a very slow grumble filled his ears. Quiet and barely noticeable at first, but quickly, it rose in cadence and stretched into a thunderous frustrated roar.

Humphrey held his breath. He could only imagine the state that the little girl was in. HIS little girl. Not- whoever that was. A strict tutor maybe? The guards didn't come until Amy was older.

The footsteps made their way through the hall, up to the bedroom door and flight it open. He could hear the heavy breathing, the rustle of a waistcoat, and the scent of alcohol filled his senses.

Amy must've been good at pretending to be asleep, as soon afterwards, the light in the room was turned off and the door pulled shut. The woman was gone from the room. Humphrey waited until he could no longer hear the woman outside the room anymore before he even contemplated moving. But he didn't have to.

The wardrobe door creaked open. Amy stood there, little torch in hand. It's beam was pink, clearly just a toy torch, not a real one. A deep sadness lingered on her face. Humphrey opened his mouth to talk, but the girl, surprisingly, stepped into the cramped wardrobe with him and slithered her arms around his legs again.

Humphrey yeilded and, to the best of his ability, ducked down in the wardrobe. He brought the little girl into an embrace and rocked her slowly. He could feel that she was crying.

"I don't like when Mummy'th angry" She said, her voice muffled by his cloak.

--

The smoke retracted from his brow. He took in a gasp like he had been holding his breath for hours. He was back in the forest, back home. The Witch and her daughter stood before him. The Witch's dull eyes stared at him in somber sympathy.

His palm pressed against the spot on his forehead where the smoke had been. His flesh was unscathed and normal. His surroundings became clearer and all sensations returned.

Clap

He looked down. Amy was still wrapped in his cloak, except this time, she was how he'd always known her. Older, but still youthful, sickly, mute and shy. Her bulging eyeballs stared up at him, curious and worrisome.

'You okay?' She signed with her hands.

Humphrey's heart cracked. The Witch was right. Such pain.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm alright, Poppet..."

[positivelybeastly]

🖤 for Pietro!

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

So, Hank has known Pietro for, god, pretty much 20 years at this point, starting off of course with the Brotherhood, then being comrades on the Avengers, going through *gestures at all of that* - and, while he has immense respect for the growth that Pietro has gone through, and can absolutely appreciate that he's quite a handsome man in his own right, with sculpted cheekbones and quite the smile . . . there's still a part of him that does still see a little bit of Pietro's father when he looks at him. Juuuust a little bit of the man who Hank started his whole superhero thing off fighting, dodging missiles and all. He could grow to get over it, but it makes appreciating him as an attractive being - tricky, in ways, at least to start with.

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

Hank honestly does find Pietro frustrating and confusing on a base level, but if he peels things back and really thinks about it, he can very much understand why Pietro is the way he is - he knows exactly what it's like to live in a world where it feels like everyone else is going too slowly for your liking, even if the root causes of that are very different for them both. He also immensely respects his commitment to his loved ones (Hank adores Wanda, and has notably sided with trying to help or protect her whenever even Avengers or X-Men would do her harm) and believes he's trying to do the right thing, even if he doesn't always succeed . . . something else Hank's grown to sympathise with as he's grown older.

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

Honestly, a question that could go any which way! Hank's a pretty open minded fella, there's not many people he immediately thinks of as complete sexual no-zones (though the ones he does, they are NO-ZONES), though he's unlikely to make the first move. He honestly would never even think he's on Pietro's radar.

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

I can't think of a ton of direct interactions between them, but there's one I really love from classic Avengers after Pietro finds out he's going to be a dad that I always think about. Like, this is just fucking cute, and I have to think that Hank and Pietro must get along decently if he's willing to take a fairly strong pat on the back like that.

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

First impression was Brotherhood of Mutants, soooo, very much not a positive impression, and it took a while to clear up, since Scott was the first one to really get hints that Pietro and Wanda didn't want to be pulled into Magneto's madness with the whole Santo Marco debacle - even if he'd told Hank and co., it'd take a while for it to sink in. Plus, even when they were friendlier (e.g. the First Class comics), Pietro was still kind of an immature dink. :P

current impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

Again, last interaction I can think of is years ago, from maybe Children's Crusade or something off-panel during the pre-Fall of X Uncanny Avengers, but Hank's always respected Pietro's unwavering commitment to trying to be better, even if it doesn't. You know. Always work out that way.

[writteninscarlet]

🖤 ;; @bothsidesofaquestion

send 🖤 and my character will answer about yours. ;; accepting

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

"Kurt is very much HIMSELF. Perhaps he is still learning who that is, and trying to find and truly accept himself - but when I look at him I see him, and I like what I see." A soft smile curled up her lips, almost thoughtful. "I do find him attractive. He is a good man, and I think he is attractive as he looks. He has a presence no one else does. Different is not bad, simply different and everyone has different tastes. And I like Kurt."

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

"Kurt is an interesting person. I think there is plenty more that I could learn about him. Perhaps he can be reckless and impulsive, but I do not know any member of the X-Men who does not fall into those categories." Those words could also be entirely true of herself. "He is charming and sweet. I enjoy his company. He has a lot to offer the world."

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

"I find him attractive, and I like his personality. I am always... wary of ruining any friendships," she mused, "But if we are putting that aside, or saying that our relationship would only strengthen, then absolutely. I would have sex with Kurt. I feel comfortable with him, and I think we have chemistry. I have no doubt we would both have fun."

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

Wanda gave a warm smile, remarking, "I think of him as a good friend. I feel I could trust him, and open up to him. I believe him to be quite a genuine person with a lot of potential." He was a good person, and she enjoyed his company. Could they be closer? Of course. But maybe that would come with time.

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

"Well, see, we first met on opposite sides, did we not? At which time I did not trust him nor like him. But if we can move on from that part of our past and go to when we first met as ourselves and not influenced by our teams, I did like him." He was smart and witty. He came across well. "My first impression was that we could get along - but that there was a lot to do to make up for my past and a lot I had to learn about him."

current impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

"I am learning more about him all the time, and I am enjoying finding out more about him. I think there's a lot still to learn, but I like spending the time with him. And I'm willing to put in the effort to become closer to him. He means a good deal to me at this time."

[darkhugprince]

it's been a big talking point that kris apparently dislikes ralsei, feels really uncomfortable with him / mixed on him, doesn't want to be around him, etc. "making" kris hug ralsei is harmful to them because they don't like hugs, by the same notion, and especially not with him.

there's a problem with this kind of definitive, declarative statement:

there's no proof within the text that supports this.

when kris hugs ralsei, they never express any kind of discomfort. many of those who believe kris has their own autonomy can agree that kris chooses the way things are said, even if they don't choose what exactly is said. on top of that, their discomfort is noticed by other characters.

no character at any point notices kris being uncomfortable with ralsei in any cutscene. you could argue that ralsei has reason to ignore it because he's the one getting hugged and he likes the hugs (i would say this contradicts his character, but for the sake of argument i will acquiesce on this one point, and that's something to go into for an entirely separate post from this one), but susie also doesn't notice any discomfort kris supposedly has with ralsei... and she does notice when kris is uncomfortable in general.

there's two big counterarguments i can anticipate with this:

argument 1: tea theory

the counterargument here would say that because ralsei tea only heals kris for 60hp, it means that they aren't very fond of him.

and you know what? you're right. that does mean that kris isn't as fond of him compared to noelle (+70hp) and susie (+120hp). it's also true that the argument that kris doesn't know ralsei as well (while true) seems weak in the face of the fact that susie, who also doesn't know him well, gets +120hp.

there's a few different pieces to my response to that:

i think susie heals from ralsei tea more because she grows attached to her friends very quickly. before her relationship with kris was purely antagonistic, yet after a day she also heals for +120hp from kris tea. she and noelle are implied to barely talk, and from noelle's tea she also heals +120hp. i believe this is a pattern specific to susie... and ralsei, who also heals +120hp for both of them despite knowing them a day.

noelle is kris's childhood friend. they have grown apart over time, which means they aren't exactly best buds (and even noelle is uncertain they're friends), but, though the feeling has a confusing "aftertaste" as implied by noelle when she drinks kris tea, it's clear it's still generally a positive relationship. after all, noelle is happy to hear it when kris says that they are friends when questioned by the addison. being 10 points under that, where there are clearly fond feelings but some conflict getting in the way of intimacy, is not that bad in the face of it.

noelle and ralsei are total strangers and get +50hp from each other's tea. +10 points above that implies at least a mildly positive association, even if it's not as strong as the other two.

it should also be mentioned that when kris actually drinks the tea, they don't react in discomfort or throw the tea away or anything like that. they have "no reaction". this doesn't imply that they're uncomfortable with ralsei at all... they just don't really have a strong impression of him.

given that your own tea heals +10 outside of battle, and +40 in battle, and doesn't really taste like anything, i think it's safe to conclude that if the emotion was negative, it would do less than that. as ralsei's tea doesn't heal less than either, at the very least, kris considers them above stranger level.

argument 2: asgore's remark about hugs

when asgore gives kris a bear hug, he makes a remark after apologizing for it. people have taken this apology to mean that kris dislikes hugs.

this... well, to put it simply, unlike tea theory, this is a misinterpretation of asgore's words and people misremembering what he said. he said, verbatim:

there's a couple different parts to go into in this one line:

"i forgot if" -- this means he doesn't know for sure. he doesn't remember if kris has stated any objections to the hug in the past.

"you don't like hugs like that" -- specifically, referring to asgore bear hugging them and swinging them around.

firstly, this is not conclusive at all about kris's feelings; asgore doesn't even know for sure how kris feels here. secondly, even if it was, it's talking about a specific kind of hug. kris could totally be very fond of hugs and just not like to be literally manhandled.

and even if it was totally about what people thought... we get no confirmation from kris themself about this response, so we have no idea how kris feels about it. no feedback whatsoever. and asgore doesn't mention them looking uncomfortable, either.

i would go as far as to say that this line isn't meant to tell us anything about kris. i think it's meant to tell us about asgore. twofold:

asgore still holds a lot of affection toward kris and seems to miss seeing them, enough that he's overenthusiastic about showing his affection toward them.

asgore has been separated from kris long enough that he doesn't remember some specific details about their preferences.

other than that, there's nothing to draw from this. it's people reading a bit too much into the line and misquoting it.

in fact, counterpoint, i would go as far as to say kris does like hugs --

they're open to letting toriel hug them without any input from us.

if ralsei has the HUG PRINCE title, post-spamton neo, if you answer with "no", he hugs kris. why is this relevant? well, after, they turn to susie and obviously say something to entice her into hugging them too, which would be very odd behavior if they dislike hugs.

i should also mention that ralsei's hug does seem to calm them down. contrasting it to other options (such as offering cake after "yes" where susie says that the goosebumps don't disappear after, and it takes some banter between ralsei and susie to get them to smile), kris spends the time after his reassurances and susie's follow-up making the joke to hug susie. susie does not say anything that would hint that ralsei's hug made them uncomfortable in that scene.

last note

i wanted to mention one other thing that makes it pretty clear to me, beyond any tea theory, beyond any reading in-between dialogue, that kris, at the very least, does not distrust ralsei like people say, in the practical sense.

simply put: in the weird route, when kris is calling for help, ralsei is the first one that they call for, even before susie.

why would they do that, if they don't trust him? if they're super uncomfortable with him? if they think he's unreliable, or will betray them? not only do they call for him, they call for him twice before moving on to trying susie.

it's true that right now they aren't attached to him, not to the same degree that they are to susie (someone who they are implied to have a crush on via noelle's blog), but we'll have to see how the relationship changes. at the very least, nothing currently suggests that kris outright dislikes or hates ralsei, nor that they're uncomfortable in his presence.

(it should also be mentioned that there's a good chance they feel concern for him, too, as when susie thinks ralsei is screaming in distress, kris rushes along with susie in a segment we can't control to get to him.)

[luimagines]

Take the Potion

Another commission!

Masterlist

They asked for stubborn Links in which they refused to take the health potion.

Content under the cut!

Wild

“Wild.” You approached the young man steadily, as one would a cornered wild animal. “Care to explain what happened?”

He gives you a tired, almost angered look. “I was up a tree.”

“Yes?”

“I got the eggs to make breakfast.”

“...And?”

“I fell.”

You have to bite your lip. His clipped answers were new. Granted, he wasn’t exactly one of the more talkative of the bunch, but he was never this snippy. “And then what happened?”

“I broke my arm.” He glares at the space just around you. You think he’s frustrated with himself. And while that may be true- it’s not a far off guess to say that he was also genuinely annoyed that you’re asking him of this.

You can’t help it. You snort and sit next to him. “Did you tell anyone about it?”

He looks away, poking the dropped arm with a neutral expression. He doesn’t want to show how much pain it’s in. Or he has high pain tolerance. It could go either way with this one. At least it doesn’t look broken. So he either put it back into place himself (also not surprising) or it’s not that bad.

You hold out the potion. “I have something for you.”

“Don’t need it.”

You scoff. “Don’t be stupid. What if one of the guys punched your arm?... Or we get attacked? How are you going to explain that not only can you not use your sword but you’re out of luck with your bow as well?”

Wild doesn’t answer for a moment. Instead he chooses to look away from you. Out of sight out of mind, right?

You sigh and shift around him, reaching around to shake the bottle in his peripheral vision. “Don’t make me tell Time-”

Wild snags the bottle and uncorks it with his teeth. “This stays between us. Not a word to the others, understand?”

You grin, feeling satisfied and happy with the results. “Of course, Link. Anything you say”

Legend

At first there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with the Hero of Legend. He was walking normally and rough housing and bantering as he normally would have. But then he started walking slower. Not a big deal. No one thought much of it, they just passed him, thinking he couldn’t fall so far behind. Then he started walking with a limp.

Then you noticed the steadily growing blood stain just under his boot-

“Link, stop right there.” You command.

Legend- and Time unfortunately, stop dead in their tracks. Both of them turn to look with confusion in their eyes. Legend’s is mildly laced with irritation until he sees that you’re looking directly at him- and you don’t look pleased. His looks softens into something a little more sheepish after that.

Time looks between you both and promptly backs out of it. Every man for himself.

You march up to Legend and point to the injury. “How long were you planning on hiding that?”

“Pssh...” He waves you off. ”It’s nothing.”

“You’re limping.”

“Well it itches.”

You smack the side of this head. “Idiot. You’re not superhuman.”

“I’m fine.” Legend moves away from you and begins to walk with the rest of the group.

You grab him before he can leave and hold him while you search through your bag with your other hand.

“Come on, this isn’t necessary-”

“Here.” You all but push Legend away with the strength you chive the potion into his chest. “Drink it or so help me, I will make you.”

“Alright, alright, by the three-...” Legend takes the bottle with more dramatic flare than you think is called for. “If it will get you to calm down.”

He opens it and takes a small sip. “It’s not like we have a lot of these, you know-”

“Just drink it.” You cross your arms.

Legend pauses again before taking another sip. “...What? Are you just going to watch me finish it?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not that bad!”

“I beg to differ.”

Warrior

“I’m fine.” Warrior groans, pushing you to the side. Granted, he’s not rough with it. He can’t afford to be. An arrow has been fully logged into his forearm from the inside and it’s been hard to put any pressure on it.

You’re not impressed.

“Ok, so tell me why is there blood on your shirt then?” You point to it with your free hand. Your other hand still has the health potion extended towards him and you’re not ending this until he takes it from you and drinks it.

“Well It’s not mine.”

“Monsters don’t have red blood.”

“It’s not monster blood then.”

You growl, shoving the potion towards him again. “Don’t make me do something drastic, hero.”

The word stings your tongue and Warrior flinches. The way he had gotten injured to begin with was nothing short of a hero complex. He had bitten off than he could chew and his impulsive and brash nature had gotten the best of him this time around

“It was an accident.”

“I know. That doesn’t change this.” You glare.

To be completely honest, you're more upset about the injury than the man in front of you, but he doesn’t need to know that just yet. You shake the bottle to emphasize it. Warrior glances away like a petulant child.

“You’re full of it.”

“I am not!” He snaps back snagging the potion before he registers what he did. He did it with the wrong hand.

Warrior grimaces with a pained cry and drops the bottle. You catch it and uncork it before he can change his mind.

With a shake of your head, you hold it out again. “Believe me now?”

Warrior whines. Your heart and attitude softens a bit at the sound. Maybe you’re being a bit brash yourself. “Here.” You tilt his head towards you with two fingers. “Open.”

Warrior does as you say even if he closes his eyes. He drinks the potion and relaxes. The magic does its work and you both calm down. “Thank you.”

Time

“Are you ok, Old Man?” You had asked him. He seemed to be breathing a little heavily even if there didn’t seem to be anything too bad going on with him. But he did get hit in the fight. He got hit hard enough that the wind was knocked out of him. He had to be dragged out of the fight so he could catch his breath.

“I’m fine.” He grunts.

“You don’t look fine.” You press. It could have gotten worse. “Is it the hit?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Time-”

“Listen-”

“Link.” You glare. “How bad is it?”

“Not bad at all.” He meets you head on.

You reach out and poke his side.

Time reacts as if you’ve burned him and he hardly manages to kill the pained cry that leaves him from the contact. You pull your hand back slowly with wide eyes. You hardly touched him. But you could feel it. His ribs are broken.

“You really are getting old.” You smile awkwardly. It was supposed to be a joke but it falls flat. “Um… Here. Hold on.”

You bend down, taking your bag out in front of you so that you can look through it. “I might have something left over.”

“I’m not going to take your-”

“Found it!” You cry out happily. You take out the health potion and hold it out to him. “Here. This should help.”

Time’s look softens but he puts his hand over yours, pushing it down. “Keep it. You need it more.”

You give him a deadpanned look. It’s such a striking contrast from the moment before that it startles a laugh out of Time. “Which one of us is hurt here, me or you?”

Time sighs. It dissolves into an impromptu staring contest. A test of wills.

You push it forward again.

“Alright, fine.” Time grimaces and takes the bottle. He uncorks it and takes a generous swig of it before he looks you in the eyes again. “Thank you.”

You grin, albeit weakly. “It must be worse than I thought. You didn‘t put up much of a fight.” 

“Hush.”

Wind

“I don’t want to drink it!”

You frown, holding the health potion in your hand. “Wind, don’t be ridiculous. You have to or it’s going to get worse.”

He turns his violently to the side. A hand comes up to knock the bottle away “I won’t drink it. I’m tired of that stuff. It tastes disgusting.” 

“Don’t be such a baby.” You frown, pushing his hand away from yours. You push the healing potion towards him again. “Just drink it fast and don’t let it touch your tongue. That’s how I do it.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Well you don’t see me complaining do you.” You challenge him. “So stop whining.”

“I’m not doing it.” Wind meets you head on. He’s glaring.

You stare back for a solid ten seconds before you yell out, “Time, you were asking about who was the one who dropped all the fish food in the lake earlier?”

Time turns his head as Wind pales. Wind reaches out to cover your mouth with both of his hands. Wind turns his hand to the leader. “They’re lying.”

Time just raises an eyebrow. “Are they now?”

“Yes.” Growling, Wind snatches the bottle from your hands. “You play dirty.”

“You’re the literal pirate.” You stick your tongue out at the boy. Wind uncorked the bottle with little difficulty. He stares at it for a long period of time. He’s clearly hyping himself up to drink the contents within. You wait and wait. You turn to Time. “Wind just so happened to-”

“Shut up!” Wind kicks your shin, throwing the health potion back like a shot.

You laugh at the way he seems to shiver from the liquid going down his throat. He coughs and gags. You take the bottle back. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was awful.”

“Are you done complaining?” You raise an eyebrow, getting comfortable in the spot next to him.

Wind looks to you with an unimpressed expression. “I’m never doing that again.”

“You said that last time.”

“Well I mean it this time.”

Hyrule

“Come on- just one sip.” You plead. The bottle full of liquid sloshes around with your movement.

Hyrule shakes his head, only for it to flop. “Dun… need it.”

“I beg to differ.” Your voice drops, entering the gravely portion that you try to avoid. It’s a voice that shouldn’t belong to you and it catches his attention.

“Go drink… some water…” Hyrule raises his arm to point- but he can’t bring himself to point and he only gestures to the rock wall beside you. The hit to his head was incredibly bad but he’s not in a state to either be cooperative or forced to take the potion.

“Link, honey, this is for you.” You try a different approach and put the bottle in his hand.

“What issssss……it..” He lifts it the best he can but you can see him struggle to get his vision in order.

“Water.” You grin tightly. You uncorked the bottle. “Here. This will help you feel better. But you have to drink all of it, ok? Otherwise it won’t work.”

Hyrule hums and brings the bottle to his lips. You press the top of your fingertips to the bottom of the bottle and tilt it slowly as he drinks it. His eyebrows furrow when he registers the texture and taste of the potion but you tilt it a bit more. He has to drink more of it to keep up with the inertia of the liquid.

He coughs and you pull it away.

The light returns to his eyes for a moment to glare at you. “Rude.”

“Better?” You press the bottle to him again.

He looks away for a moment, still upset before he sighs. He takes the bottle from you and admits defeat. “...Yes.”

You sag. “You’re as stubborn as a mule, Link.”

Twilight

Twilight grunted as he pushed himself up against the wall of the dungeon. Admittedly, it was not his best performance but he got the job done. 

There was a deep wound in his side. The blade of the monster had cut him deeper than he wanted to admit. He was thankful that he wore as many layers as he did.

Twilight took a breath. He calmed down. All he had to do now was wait for someone to come get him and they would be able to call it a day. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He could hardly feel it if he had to be honest with himself.

That’s it, he decides. He’s going to just keep going. He’s fine. He doesn’t need to have anyone else wait on him.

“Hello hello?” You call down the hallway, trepidatious and nervous.

Twilight relaxes. He’s happy to see you. “Hey there, yourself.”

You also seem to relax at the sight of him, but then your eyes dip down. “....Link…”

Uh-oh. You said the name. His name.

Twilight suddenly gets a tad sheepish. “Yes?”

“What… happened to you?” Your jaw drops and you instantly drop to your knee, taking your bag out from behind you.

“Oh, this?” Twilight takes his arm off of it. It’s all red. “It’s nothing.”

“Link.” You stress, taking out a potion. “Why are you like this?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Twilight pushes forward. He may trip, but he blames it on the rocks on the floor and not the blood loss.

You are undeterred. In fact, you deadpan. “Link Ordon.”

“Not the full name.” Twilight whines.

“Take the potion.” You glare. You shove the potion towards his chest.

Twilight takes note of your furrowed brow and your pout. It’s your serious face. Part of him knows that this isn’t to be trifled with. ..But you’re so cute.

He sighs, trying to make it seem more of an effort than it really is and takes the potion out of your hand. “If I take this, will you stop pouting?”

“I’m not pouting!”

Twilight smirks, uncorking the bottle. “Uh-huh.”

Sky

Gasps and hisses were the only things to fill the air during the quiet night’s watch.

“What on earth are you doing?” You hiss back. “You’re going to wake someone else up and they’re going to think that you’re doing something inappropriate.” 

Sky just grunts in reply and you stand- almost afraid to see what he was really up to. You run your hands through your hair and begin to close the distance. “Don’t expect me to cover for you when Time or Wind- oh by the golden three-”

He’s trying to put a bandage around his forearm. You don’t know but it’s bleeding profusely and Sky has the bandage in his mouth to try and keep it tight enough to wrap it around.

Your stomach drops for a moment and you have to turn your head to keep the contents within yourself. “I’m not going to ask.” You say instead. “But give me one second…”

You turn and make it back to your bed roll. You fall to your knees and take out your pack. It’s dark and your back is against the firelight so it’s hard to see. You have to fiddle around for a moment before you manage to take out what you were looking for.

You make your way back and drop the bottle unceremoniously on Sky’s lap. “Drink that.”

Sky drops the bandage from his mouth and looks up to you. “Thanks, but you should save that for an emergency.”

“You’re hurting.” You deadpan, not willing to deal with this during the witching hour. “Enough so that it woke me up. Just take it. I’ll get more.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Sky argues, holding your potion out to you. “Keep it.”

You frown, taking the bottle and bashing it over his head. The glass shatters and the potion seeps into his body anyway- healing the hit and the cut simultaneously.

Sky freezes as the glass rains down his face and body.

“Retail taught me that one.” You say and move to go back to bed. Stubborn man. You’re not going to play those games.

Four

“How did you manage this?” You frown, putting your hands on your hips.

Four winces and slowly laying backwards against the stone floor. “I have no idea but it certainly wasn’t my greatest moment.”

“I’ll say.” You take the potion on reflex and sit down next to him. “Come on, drink up. I’m not going to carry you out of here.”

“Nah.” He doesn’t even look at you. “Save it. Just give me a moment and then we’ll be on our way.”

“And if you’re bleeding internally?” You raise an eyebrow.

Four doesn’t react. “My blood is all on the inside anyway, that’s where it’s supposed to be.”

You flick his forehead.

“Ow.”

“Drink the potion.” You press, putting a hand on his chest. His breath leaves him with a wheeze and he has to push you off.

“That’s where I got hit!” He croaks, trying to get his breath back. “Don’t just touch it!.”

You poke it again. “I would hurt less if you drank the potion.”

Four grunts, sending you one of the nastiest glares you’ve ever received from the young man.

You shake the potion in front of his face.

Four growls and takes the potion. He has to force himself to sit up again and it’s clear he struggles to make it all the way. You push him up as gently as you can. Four puts his attention into opening the blasted bottle while you hold him steady.

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” He complains as he takes a sip.

“You love me.” You shake your head. “You wouldn’t put up with half of the things I do if you didn’t.”

“Lucky you. And lucky me.” He takes another sip, a bigger one this time. You don’t dignify that with a response.

[whoistartaglia]

the fake date for chocolate cake.

your local cafe is having a valentine’s day promotion! all couples get a free slice of chocolate cake. you’re determined to take advantage of this discount, even if you have to ask a random stranger—what is his name again? zhongli?—to help you.

you survey the bustling cafe: the workers running around, delievering and taking orders, the several couples starting valentine’s day off with a oh-so romantic coffee date together, the man sitting alone at a table in the back—perfect. you go over to him like you’ve known him your entire life, even though you don’t know a thing about him, not even his name. when you sit down infront of him, he doesn’t object, just looks mildly surprised. you take that as a good sign.

“hi, so, my name is [name], and i know this is totally random and out of the blue,” you say, hating each word. “but i really need to you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” your eyes dart from the man’s increasing confused back, around the cafe, to his face, and back again.

“why?” he asks. “are you in trouble?” he follows your gaze to the front counter. there doesn’t look to be anyone particularly threatening, only the staff members who most definitely did not want to come in on their valentine’s day.

“what? oh, no,” you reply quickly, looking back to him. “that’s not it, actually, it’s because—“ you stop quickly once the waitress—who a second ago was at the opposite side of the cafe, delievering coffees and pastries alike—is now standing next to your table.

“welcome to the cafe,” she says. she smiles at you and at—well, you don’t know the man’s name yet. he still looks confused. you don’t blame him, though you wish he didn’t, because now the poor waitress looks confused. she continues, “did you order anything yet?”

“no we were just waiting to…to…“

“to look over the menu,” the man across from you says. you shoot him a grateful look.

“yeah, just… look everything over,” you say. “but i think we’re ready to order now.” you both tell her your orders—a small matcha latte for you, a fancy coffee drink you can’t quite pronouce for him.

“i’ll put them in for you,” the waitress says. “oh also, since today’s valentine’s day, we have our famous chocolate cake free for couples who order two coffees, should i put that in for you two as well?”

you give the waitress a large smile. “yes, that sounds great. thank you.” once she leaves, you reluctantly turn back to the man. thankfully he doesn’t appear angry, rather, he looks slightly impressed—if only by your sheer audacity.

“so that’s why you wanted me to pretend to be your boyfriend,” he says thoughtfully.

“shh!” you ask, looking around. “if they find out we aren’t actually dating, they’ll revoke the discount.”

“and you couldn’t just pay for the cake because…?”

“it’s twenty dollars for one slice,” you respond hotly. “i’m not paying that—especially when coffee’s five dollars a cup, plus extra.“

“you couldn’t have just bought one from the grocery store?”

“it’s not the same,” you insist. “the cake is really good here and besides, they’re the ones running this stupid valentine’s day promotion—why shouldn’t i take advantage of that?”

“because you’re not actually my—“ he cuts off when the waitress returns with your large plate of chocolate cake.

“here we are,” she says, putting it down. “the drinks will be ready shortly. i just need a name for both of them.”

“sure,” you say. “[name] and… umm…”

the waitress stares at you expectantly. when no name comes, she asks, “you don’t know his name?”

“of course i do,” you say, drumming your fingers on the table. they move as fast as your heart.

“and it is…?”

“it’s…” why didn’t you ask him his name? what were you thinking?

“you can’t tell me,” the waitress concludes. “are you two even a couple?”

“it’s zhongli,” the man—this zhongli, apparently—answers for you. you give him another grateful look and smile, both of which you use to conceal your surprise when when he takes your hand in his own. he continues, still while looking at you, “and yes, as you can clearly see, we are a couple.”

“okay… sure. no problem.” the waitress still looks unconvinced, but leaves without another word all the same. you move to pull away once she’s disappeared, but zhongli holde on.

“just a second longer—she still has to deliever that table’s cake.” you look behind you to where an elderly couple sits. the old lady winks at you, and you have to wonder how much you’re blushing.

a few seconds of later, your names are called and zhongli leaves to get your drinks.

“there,” he says, setting it infront of you. you take a long sip of it, replaying the past fifteen minutes in your head. on one hand, your plan worked. on the other, you kind of felt bad about duping the waitress and asking this random stranger to go to bat for you.

you felt a little less guilty when you tasted the cake—perfectly chocolate and without being too sickeningly-sweet.

“you’re right, my dear [name],” zhongli says, taking another forkful of the cake. “that is worth pretending to be a couple.”

you blush, a combination of embarassment and him having called your “my dear.”

“i can’t believe we got away with that.”

“barely,” zhongli corrects you.

“yeah, barely,” you agree. you set down your fork. “thank you… zhongli.” you say, testing out the name. you quite like how it sounds on your tongue. you also liked how it sounded earlier, next to yours.

“the plan was kind of dumb and we almost got caught, and i’m going to feel so bad if you actually have a partner, but thank you.” as a joke, you add, “and if you want to do the same next year—“

“i don’t,” zhongli says.

“oh.” you look down, and try not to feel disappointment. of course he wouldn’t want to do this again next year, despite how he felt about the cake. “sorry. i didn’t mean—“

“i mean,” he interrupts. “i don’t have a partner. so you don’t need to feel too bad.”

“oh, that’s… good.”

he looks at your carefully before continuing, “i would actually like to do this again next year… and maybe then we won’t have to pretend to be a couple?”

at your expression, zhongli laughs and leans back in his seat. you force yourself to close your mouth and lower your eyebrows. what did he just say?

“i’m just kidding—sort of. at least you know how i felt when you proposed your plan to me,” zhongli explains. your cheeks run red hot with embarassment. you’re blushing even harder than before, if that’s even possible. “but after today, i would actually like to get to know you better. you’re very interesting, [name].”

are you dreaming? you have to be dreaming. if you just heard zhongli correctly, then not only did your plan get you chocolate cake, but maybe also a boyfriend. a good-looking, chocolate-cake-loving, polite and intelligent one at that. zhongli watches patiently as you take it all in.

“i would like that too,” you tell him at last. you steal the last piece of cake and ignore zhongli’s protests as you pop it in your mouth. you still can’t quite believe what just happened, but you do know thing:

it truly is your best valentine’s day yet.

[lemonadecandy103]

Ok I’m just gonna say it. My feelings about Kougami up to this point:

(Disclaimer: I have not seen PPP yet so my impressions are based on the spoilers and discussions that all the watchers have had, -and they are subject to change) - also trying to separate my shipper feelings from this but beware of my inherent bias anyway.

Season 1: Kougami is generally very warm and protective towards Akane. He doesn’t see her as a woman yet but they both validate each other to an unimaginable degree. I mean, she risked her life and psycho pass to help him track down Makishima who ppl believed was a ghost. She restored the credibility of his investigative abilities and made him actually think that there might be a better world without the structural divisions that they have. That didn’t stop him from breaking the law but it’s obvious that he especially thought very highly of her even after leaving the country.

Psycho Pass: The Movie: honestly, the movie is so enjoyable with regards to Kougami’s character development. He smiles at Akane so much in this movie, tries to get validation from her and again is really protective of her. They definitely pose Akane as more womanly and more as a equal with him - both in physical and mental abilities. She also impresses him several times in the film. He’s overall amused like “wow, she actually followed me all the way out here. What a woman”

SS Case 3: He sings praises of Akane ofcourse, even in the presence of an undeniable beauty like Frederica. If anything, we can contrast Frederica finding him to Akane finding him in the first movie, and his dialogue and body language alone show how he’s mildly annoyed by or at least resistant to Frederica’s presence. Most of his character arc here is in relation to Tenzing though which I suppose was supposed to teach him to be responsible for more than just himself(?), but that ends up being left open ended during his fight with Garcia (I mean he stabs the man to death before they can conclude the dialogue). Overall though, Kougami’s smiles are for Tenzing here and also when he’s saying that he’ll return to Japan.

Season 3 and First Inspector: He’s either all focused on the investigation at hand or with Akane. Everytime he smiles in this season- it’s for Akane! And not to mention, they don’t even really discuss work or philosophy in their interactions, but more about themselves and what they’ve missed from each other after being separated for years. This is what gave me hope that his emotional intelligence had improved and he would finally find some peace in Akane’s presence.

Providence: Based on what I’ve read, Kougami feels rather out-of-character in this. Like a weird blip in the timeline of his character arc. All the bonus scenes I saw anyway just made his interactions with Akane awkward. I didn’t expect it to be absolutely smooth but where’s the warmth that he initially had for this woman in S1 and the 1st movie??? What is this fuckboi behavior Kougami??? Maybe he’s able to make up for it in the 3rd act of Providence at least based on the notes I’ve read but he’s just so cold. Like he has a point to make?? I’m so confused. The tone of Providence is just cold in general and we keep seeing scenes where Ko and Akane are just on their own, never really together and communicating - the rain, the ice, the cold city drafts - just adds to it. But maybe the fact that S3 and PPFI comes after this gives us hope that he did get his act together and maybe visited her more and actually talked this out with her while she was in confinement. Maybe we’ll get some bonus scenes in a novel format.

I haven’t even seen PPP yet and I already need a season 4 to redeem Kougami’s character like what the hell. (And I’m sure the animation staff are exhausted and I don’t wanna encourage overworking them) - even if it’s like a measly 45 sec scene, I need to see the warm and caring Kougami again.

Providence looks phenomenal though - the team definitely outdid themselves - and I can’t wait to watch it.

[scaredshadowsswap]

SCP Headcanons about Site-19

[These are kinda silly, but it’s what I need right now. In true fanfiction writer style, I got diagnosed with cancer (Minor, I should be okay) but…yeah, I’m not doing good.]

-The stairs up to the main entrance are (jokingly?) dubbed anomalous because every year, exactly one person breaks both their legs from tripping on them. Outside of that, nobody has ever gotten a even scrape on those stairs, not even the poor researcher who fell down the entire flight. For the past three years, it’s been Dr. Gerald who broke his legs. Gerald is only at Site-19 for maybe 20 days out of the year, so it’s quite impressive he can manage that. Once, he broke both his legs falling up the stairs, but his streak doesn’t stop Dr. Shaw from hosting a site-wide bet on who is gonna be the one to break their legs this year. When Dr. Gerald was asked about breaking both legs on three separate occasions, he replied “Those stairs are a blessing, isn’t it great I can only break bones once a year on them?”

-People typically live on-site. Well, at least, some people do. There’s no way Clef could convince the Foundation to let him take 173 on a date off-site, not even if they are a really cute couple. Most people live in apartments for pure convenience to the Foundation. If an SCP you’re studying does something weird, you can’t be 30 minutes away by commute. The floors are split up by languages, and although the Foundation typically discourages anything but cold and calculating, they make an exception for pride over a language/culture. They’ve found that more people learn more languages when there’s a sense of excitement around speaking multiple languages.

-The Site is surrounded by trees so the public can’t see, but right behind the apartments that personnel live in is a large pond, which gives the Foundation a water reserve in case something terrible happens. It’s mildly discouraged to do anything on/near the lake, but they also don’t really care as long as it’s on your time off. People have picnics near it, and there are hockey games every winter when the top freezes over.

-People don’t get Saturday/Sunday off, they get two randomly decided days off. It could be a Wednesday and Friday. It could be a Sunday and Monday. Personnel are only allowed to leave the Site on one of their two days off, though, in case they are needed on the other.

-Everyone on site gets a pager-esque device. It’s encrypted, of course, but it’s by far the easiest way to get in contact with someone. The lead of any research team will have their pager number written on the file, and it is taken off when research is completed. It’s usually still able to be found in cases of…ongoing problems. You can find Elijah Itkin’s pager number in SCP-049’s containment chamber. It’s a good idea to memorize the pager number of whoever is in charge of SCP-682 on a given day.

-Because these numbers are so important to be able to reach quickly, they’re not 10 digits long. They’re 4 digits long, and a lot of the times, they’re recycled when a staff member dies. This has led to the occasional murder for a specific number. Bright has 0069 on permanent reserve, much to the chagrin of many members. Clef killed the poor soul who had 6666, and Glass had to put in a recommendation to please just give him that number. Gears has 0002, which confused a lot of people since Moose isn’t 0001. In fact, all numbers are accounted for except 0001 and 0055. Don’t push your luck by messaging either.

-Site-19 has had one civilian breach the perimeter. It was a 6-year-old. The file is heavily redacted to anyone at Site-19 because it is quite honestly, a disgrace. It’s not redacted to anyone outside of Site-19, though, and those darn folks over at 120 will bring it up whenever they can.

-Not every Junior Researcher at Site-19 works directly under someone. At smaller sites, it’s a given, but at the largest site the SCP Foundation has? There are a lot of junior researchers who just do paperwork, or help out with odd projects here and there. Any Junior researcher who works as a Senior Researcher’s assistant gets the wonderful privilege of…not having to share a desk with some random stranger! You instead will most likely get the corner of the Senior Researcher’s desk as your new desk space.

-Speaking of Senior Researchers, they can request or drop anyone at any time, depending on how many assistants they’re allowed. Junior researchers…cannot do that. They have to work with a Senior researcher for at least 4 weeks before they can request to work with someone else. Even then, no guarantees. The Senior researcher can just say you’re vital to a project and now you’re waiting 4 more weeks for another chance to request a transfer. The only exception to this rule is Dr. Clef. He has a waiting list of naive newbies who requested to work with him since they’ve heard the legends, only for most of them to want to quit before the 15 minute mark.

-When a breach happens, nobody cares 80% of the time. Shaw likes to place bets on how long, to the second, containment’ll take. They’ve gotten really good in the past 40 years, and can now get it within 15 seconds of the actual time pretty accurately. The site is set up with the commute difficulty of an amusement park, and it’s actually really hard for an anomaly to get anywhere without a map (which they do not make)

[sweetsugarstarz]

More Ditto!Yuu HCs/info

-They bounce...

- For instance, when Jamil threw them across the dessert they bounced about 5 times before finally stopping.

- They did NOT like being thrown.

- They do hold a grudge against Jamil.

- During the events of book 5 Vil and Rook have to tell Ditto!Yuu to stop transforming into giant bugs and chasing Jamil around.

- They still turned their head into a giant spider during lunch just to disturb Jamil.

-Vil was so disappointed.

-Ditto!Yuu did stop, but only because Vil lectured them for three hours because Jamil was starting to get paranoid, and stay awake all night, thus causing him to have bags under his eyes, but also because Jamil was starting to lose his voice from the screaming.

-Also, after the events of chapter 4, once Crowley got back, Ditto!Yuu snuck into his office, under the door.

-Crowley was mildly terrified, he had no idea that this student could almost completely liquefy themself.

-Ditto!Yuu then proceeded to "eat" the phone that he gave them out of anger and spite.

-Ditto!Yuu dissolved most of the phone, except the sim card snx the SD card, which they spat out at him indignantly, hitting his mask with both. Then they left his office in the exact manner that they entered.

-Lazy bird man is so confused. On one hand, he's upset that they destroyed the phone he so graciously gave them, but on the other hand he's rather impressed, and mildly terrified that they were able to break down a phone within a few seconds.

Spoilers for chapter 6 ahead!

-Ditto!Yuu was delighted to see that Ortho was finally a full-fledged student!

-So delighted that they immediately transformed into a copy of him and bounced around excitedly for about an hour.

-Ortho was happy to see Ditto!Yuu so excited.

-Idia was not.

-It's not that he doesn't like Ditto!Yuu, but it's weird that there's a student who is essentially a sentient slime.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Eye to Eye, Hand in Hand

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

This time, Ramsay’s students are from two social extremes. When they’re bringing drastically different viewpoints and backgrounds to the table, can food be the great equalizer?

Imagine this...

Gordon’s time at Night Raven College had been... extremely eventful, to put it mildly. When he closed his eyes, those memories would shoot across the darkness like fires flaring in the night.

Shouting, wailing, confused cries. Strange smells and odd, colorful concoctions. Flowing hair and the silver flash of blades handled by untrained hands. The blood, sweat, and tears of all his past pupils.

“Right, let’s make this as painless as possible,” he had told his newest duo—trying to stay optimistic. It was directed both to them and to himself.

The last thing Gordon wanted was another kitchen nightmare.

But...

Crack, crack, crack!

A row of eggs sailed through the air in an elegant arc. They were caught one by one, their shells gently knocked against the flat of a clean counter and eased open. Golden yolks and translucent whites dropped into a large, waiting bowl.

Two hands working at once, not a single shard of shell tainting the eggs. Efficient and clean.

Gordon blinked. “... Bloody brilliant.”

“Nishishishi. Impressed, teach?” Ruggie glanced up from his work to pass along an impish grin. He playfully moved an egg back and forth between his palms, as though expertly handling a softball. Fast hands—and even faster fingers, practiced in pilfering.

“You’ve clearly got experience,” Gordon said carefully.

The hyena nodded, busting open another round of eggs. “I could do this with my eyes closed.”

Ruggie jabbed his chin to the counter adjacent from his. “And looks like Malleus-kun can too!”

Gordon warily followed where Ruggie guided his eyes—and the chef’s jaw dropped, nearly colliding with the floor.

“What the fuck am I looking at?”

Dozens and dozens of eggs floated in the air, emitting a strange neon green light. As if guided by an invisible hand, they tore themselves open, their contents separating into two bowls: one for yolks and one for eggs.

A whisk, also giving off the same green glow, beat the whites, which turned frothy in a matter of seconds. Following that, a rubber spatula gently folded runny yolks into the whites.

The mixture was poured onto a greased pan on the stove, a line of emerald flames cooking the eggs into omelettes. When the tops had set, the omelettes folded themselves in half, lifting from the heat and onto plates. Rows and rows of great, golden, wobbling mounds were set out. Each perfectly identical products of magic.

And there, hovering over the mass-produced omelette army, was Malleus Draconia, his mouth curled into a satisfied smirk.

“I trust that this amount is sufficient for the judges, Chef,” he declared matter-of-factly.

Gordon stared at him.

Then his expression grew hard as a jagged stone—as did his voice.

“Start from scratch.”

There was a pregnant pause as the order soaked in.

“... Excuse me?” Challenge took residence in the fairy’s tone. Unseen embers licked his every word.

“You heard me.” Gordon slammed a hand down on the counter, rattling all the plates. “No magic in my kitchen! We do things the old fashioned way around here.”

Malleus’s features sharpened.

“Is it not more efficient to use magic for meal preparation? It would take a great amount of time to master the various techniques and appliances to be found in the kitchen—but with magic, that issue is greatly alleviated.”

“Lazy cooking is what it is. It’s like sticking eggs in a damn microwave. How do you expect to be self-sufficient if you’re relying on something else to do all the work for you? The texture, the searing... The results would never be the same, and the food loses all its heart.”

“Heart, you say?”

Sparks flew between their gazes, charging the air with tension. Ruggie’s fur stood up, his skin tingling, as if grazed by lightning.

Uh-oh. Is a fight gonna break out or what?

To the hyena’s shock, Malleus brought a hand to his chin, his face turning pensive.

“I see. So you are also no fan of metal contraptions. That is one thing we can see eye-to-eye on.”

“You mean microwaves? Yeah, I can’t stand those bloody things. They’re no replacement for what your mother gave you.” Gordon thrust up both hands. “If you have them, then put them to good use, god damn it!”

Malleus frowned slightly. “To liken magic to machinery... it is odd, but perhaps not incorrect. They are both marvels that serve to lighten one’s workload, defeating the point of a course which prides itself on instilling ‘self-sufficiency’ in its students.

“How curious. I had no idea that cooking was meant to be so laborious.”

“Well, you had better get used to it.” Gordon placed an egg in Malleus’s open hand, then indicated a bowl.

The prince tentatively curled his fingers around it.

“Go on then. Get cracking.”

Malleus did.

CRACK!!

The egg was cleanly crushed between Malleus’s pale fingers. Its insides ran down his hand, painting his skin in shades of sunshine and viscous rain.

Malleus frowned, and grabbed another egg.

CRACK!!

Again, it shattered—this time, bits of eggshell sticking to the glue of yolk and whites. Malleus’s brows furrowed in mild frustration. His strength, frightening.

“Keep at it,” Gordon encouraged. “You’re bound to get the hang of it sooner or later--but for god’s sake, loosen up your grip!”

“Hmm, that’s strange. I was already holding back as much of my strength as I could...” Malleus glanced over at Ruggie, who had procured a whisk and was furiously beating his own eggs. “You appear to be quite skilled at this, Bucchi.”

“He~ I’m being complimented by the great Malleus-kun. Should I shed a tear?” Ruggie snickered at his own sarcasm. “Nah, I’ve just been cooking a lot longer than you have. Unlike you rich people, the rest of us gotta fend for ourselves, sometimes without microwaves or magic.”

(... Though he wouldn’t say no to a free microwave—it would certainly cut down on cooking, freeing up more time for picking up additional odd jobs.)

“So I see. I initially enrolled in Master Chef to answer a particular query of mine, but... It seems that I am learning far more than I had initially anticipated that I would.”

Malleus gave a small smile. “For the common folk to put forth this much effort into making meals... It makes me all the more appreciative for the food which appears before me.”

“I’ll bet it does~”

Ruggie’s mouth was wry as he lifted his whisk to check the consistency of his peaks. They were slightly stiff, falling off in thick, creamy glops. From the corner of his eye, he could see Malleus carefully observing the consistency. On his other side, Gordon peaked over his shoulder, nodding in approval.

Must be nice being a big shot. Waited on hand and foot, never having to give a second thought about where your next meal will come from. And being a celebrity chef from another world ain’t half bad either. Must make the big bucks back home.

“... Have you got something to say?” Gordon suddenly asked, his gaze locking with Ruggie’s. “Come out and say it then.”

“Nothin’, Chef~ Just a hyena hard at work!” He put on his best innocent face. “Oh, by the way! Speaking of work, we’re not gonna let Malleus-kun’s go to waste, right?” Ruggie indicated the magical omelettes.

“We’re not serving those to the judges. They weren’t prepared with the proper parameters in mind.”

“We’re not tossing them, are we? It sure would be a waste of ingredients.” A mischievous grin spread across the hyena’s face. “Nishishishi... I’d be happy to take’m off your hands for ya!”

Ah, so that was his true aim all along.

Gordon’s brow knitted together. “Don’t be daft. By the time this class is over, the air will have gotten out them. You’ll have cold and deflated omelettes.”

“So?” Ruggie shrugged. “Food’s food. Sometimes you don’t have much of a choice with what you can eat or how fresh it is. Can’t afford to be picky.”

Gordon passed a look to Malleus.

“I have no qualms with his proposal,” the prince replied. “However, it would be a shame to partake in food when it is not at its peak.”

Malleus smirked, raising a hand. “You are employed by Kingscholar for menial tasks, correct? Then what say we make a pact of our own? Favors for favors, one might say.”

“A pact with you?” Ruggie stiffened at the suggestion. A great risk—but, perhaps, even greater reward. “I’m listening.”

“It is no feat for me to retain the freshness of the omelettes. My wind magic shall keep the air from escaping. In exchange, you will lend me your instruction on egg handling, seeing as you are adequately versed on the matter.”

“Huh? That’s it?”

“Yes. Of course, I can always ask Ramsay for the same, but I believe it may be just as valuable to hear advice from the common man. It is important for someone of my status to understand the people from various countries and walks of life. This is merely a stepping stone to that end.”

“Seriously...? Sheesh, you’re shrewd...” Ruggie bit back a laugh, and seized the opportunity. “Well, alright! It’s an easy win-win for me. Listen and watch closely, Malleus-kun~”

“Fufu. Please instruct me well, Bucchi.”

Gordon crossed his arms, wearing a gruff grin. Like a fond father, he watched over the duo as they leaned closer, shoulders bumping—Ruggie muttering something, Malleus looking intense as he absorbed it.

Quiet words slipped out of their mentor.

“... Now that’s what I like to see.”

Poor and wealthy, Savanaclaw and Diasomnia, peasant and prince, beastman and fairy. As different as the were, both needed to eat. At the dining table, nothing else mattered. Their very reason for gathering was the same.

Together at the table, they were equals.