#(i'm just saying this is the true sauce)

[keeps-ache]

which of these are better? :>

[moe-broey]

VAGUING VAGUING

[vixlenxe]

Everyone focuses on the grumpy or angry characters (re?)discovering gentleness & kindness.

Well I say fuck that. The real sauce is when the happy or really kind character suddenly have all that kindness leave their body & get piss angry. Nice characters choosing violence is where it's at.

[mrfoox]

Why am I always like "as long as you think of me in any somewhat positive way, I am happy"

[katsukikitten]

Retired pro hero Bakugou buying a really old abandoned home in Japan and restoring it while living in it.

It's all he's got, a lot of his friends have wives, families, kids, some of them even expecting a first grandkid and Bakugou in his 40s has nothing of his life to show for aside from the undisputed number one spot on the hero charts for 20 years straight and more scars than he can count.

He feels he relates to the house, old, once adored but now empty.

He wants to change that, wants to be more than an idea or idol, wants to disassociate from Dynamight and just be Bakugou Katsuki but he isn't sure he knows who that is. Dynamight is still parts of him yes but exaggerated, in all his years Katsuki knows he can soften he just doesn't know where.

Although he's ready to find out. Sadly or maybe fortunately, he's the type of man who has to find out through action and hard work. He bought the house site unseen, didn't even Google what the front of the home looked like he didn't care.

Standing in front of his mostly dilapidated home he feels good, crossing his arms over his chest as he lets his mind wander on where to start. Eyes sharp, cutting into the features of the home as he assesses just like he would any villain situation.

"Excuse me Dyna-" You clear your throat before he looks at you, as you remember his retiring announcement of him saying Dynamight can go fuck himself. I'm Bakugou Katsuki now.

"Excuse me Bakugou. I brought you a little welcome gift. I'm your neighbor." You don't flinch when his heavy gaze flicks to you, don't shy away from his snarl and if anything your smile grows as you offer up the bento and plate of cookies.

He doesn't take them and you don't take offense, just gently pull them back to yourself as you look at the home

"I'm so happy you bought the Sato house. They were good neighbors. They lived here when I was younger by both passed suddenly. Old age does that ya know? They didn't have any children but Mrs. Sato taught me her special rice for bentos."

You're rambling but you don't care, you'd just bought your childhood home from your parents a month prior. Fearful your home would suffer the same fate as the Satos. That the love and memories would be washed away by the rain and neglect. That the air around the home would worsen each year it went unaccompanied until it became so stagnant with neglect it became a miasma that not even the toughest soul could stomach.

Yet here stood Bakugou strong and tall outside a broken home.

"I don't think it's anything special by the way. Just a bit more soy sauce or sesame seed oil, I think she was what made it special."

Katsuki looks down at you for a long time, sees your fingers twitch against the fabric of the neatly wrapped bento, watches you swallow thickly and lashes flutter to combat the burn in your eyes as you stare at the home. You turn to face him, give a polite smile and nod of your head in a brief good bye before his voice stops you.

"I'll be the judge of that." You furrow your brows in confusion, looking up at him before his big warm palm comes under the bento to lift from your hands, "If the rice is special or not."

He watches your face light up, a true genuine smile that could compete with the sun and he feels something deep in his chest ache. Feels it yearn to reach out to you but he stands firm in his spot as he watches you disappear down the short overgrown walk way back to your home.

He doesn't even need to try the fucking rice to know the answer.

The rice was going to be special because you made it, Katsuki's sure of it.

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ RIIZE after the first fight

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst ? pairing bf!riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

In all these years, you had never fought because Shotaro and you had never had any problems. You never would have imagined that your first fight would be because you forgot to wear the color you both agreed on the day before. At first, you thought Shotaro was joking, but when you saw how serious he was, you realized he wasn't. After a brief argument, you went home, crying because of how he had spoken to you. A few hours later, Shotaro showed up at your house, and when you opened the door, he immediately came closer to hug you while saying, "I'm sorry, y/n, I know I was wrong... I shouldn't have reacted that way."

ᯓ★EUNSEOK

You couldn’t believe that Eunseok had completely forgotten that you were supposed to have lunch with your parents. When you showed up at his place all dressed up to pick him up and saw him still in his pajamas, you couldn’t help but get mad at him. You left his house almost in tears out of frustration. When you arrived at your parents' house, you simply told them that Eunseok had gotten sick. You didn’t expect him to show up an hour later, all dressed up and with a bouquet of flowers for your parents. When he approached you, he kissed your cheek and then whispered in your ear, "I'm so sorry, y/n, I promise it won’t happen again."

ᯓ★SUNGCHAN

"I don't like the way he looked at you." You knew that Sungchan got jealous easily, but you never thought he would get jealous over the way your childhood friend, whom you basically saw as a brother, looked at you. Although you tried to explain to him that he had nothing to be jealous of, Sungchan kept complaining about your relationship with him. You didn’t expect Sungchan to raise his voice in the middle of the argument while looking at you intensely. At that moment, you felt like you couldn’t take it anymore, so you crouched down on the floor and started crying. Seeing you like that, Sungchan immediately regretted everything he had said, crouching down to hug you and apologize right away.

ᯓ★WONBIN

You never expected your first argument with Wonbin to be over who looked better in a shirt. What started as a joke turned serious when Wonbin didn’t agree with you that it looked better on him than on you. You couldn’t believe you were arguing over something so silly, but you also knew it wouldn’t end until you gave in. "Yes, Wonbin, it looks much better on you." Seeing how serious you had gotten, looking at your phone without paying attention to him, Wonbin realized he had done something wrong. He approached you and started stroking your hair. "It's not true, y/n, we both know it looks much better on you."

ᯓ★SEUNGHAN

"Why did you put so much hot sauce? I told you I wanted to try it..." Seunghan said while frowning at you. You didn’t think that adding a bit more hot sauce to your noodles would lead to your first fight with Seunghan. After arguing for a few minutes, you both ate in complete silence, not speaking to each other. And the silence continued even after dinner when he drove you home. Even though you weren’t speaking, he didn’t forget to kiss your cheek to say goodbye. It wasn’t until the next day that you spoke to him again. You sent him a message apologizing, explaining that you hadn’t done it on purpose, and inviting him over that evening for some noodles (without hot sauce!).

ᯓ★SOHEE

You always used to have little arguments with Sohee over silly things since you both loved teasing each other. But you never expected that one day you would have a real fight. In just a few seconds, you both were yelling from opposite sides of the room about which song to play while cleaning the house. Even though it was something trivial, sometimes Sohee treated your music tastes as if they were inferior to his, and while it usually didn’t bother you, that day, his comment got under your skin, and you couldn’t help but raise your voice. Hearing you shout, Sohee just looked at you, turned off the music, and started cleaning the house. In the end, neither of you played any of the songs you had suggested, and you ignored each other for more than an hour. But after thinking it over while cleaning, you decided to make him a snack as a way to apologize. You were surprised when you entered the kitchen and saw Sohee doing exactly what you had been planning. You couldn’t help but laugh when you both realized you had thought of the same thing.

ᯓ★ANTON

You were on the couch with Anton, trying to decide which movie to watch that night. The thing was, each of you wanted to watch a completely different movie, and you both flatly refused to watch the one the other suggested. Little by little, without noticing, your voices got louder until you said some things that hurt Anton. He immediately fell silent, becoming completely serious and looking away from you, focusing on the TV instead. "It's okay, put on whatever you want." You couldn’t help but feel bad seeing how Anton reacted, knowing that you had crossed the line with what you said. You looked at him in silence for a few seconds, then leaned in and kissed his lips. Immediately, Anton looked at you, smiling, though trying to hide it. You knew that trick never failed. "I'm sorry, Anton, that’s not what I really meant to say..."

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @cherryishxo @gacktsa @totheseok

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 dancing around the kitchen : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

everytime y/n tries to cook a proper meal, there's Percy trying to get her attention. Which only ends up in chaos.

author: this is very short but couldn't stop thinking about it so :,)

y/n is determined this time. She's found a recipe, checked all the ingredients twice, put on some music and even has her hair tied back to make sure it doesn’t get in the way.

Percy and her are too busy with their college schedules to bother with cooking, often resorting to ordering take out. But She's determined to make dinner tonight.

The only problem? Percy Jackson.

Every. Single. Time.

He just can't seem to stay quiet for a moment, and he's always looking for her attention in some sort of way. When she's too distracted following a recipe to give it to him, he gets clingy. Every time. This is exactly why she doesn’t cook.

As always, he starts slow, curiously leaning over the counter to look at her and ask innocent questions. "Watcha doing?"

"Cooking dinner" she mumbles, already focused on chopping her vegetables.

He nods and goes back to the book he's supposed to be reading for his homework, but a few seconds later he looks back at her again. He just can't help it.

He watches as she hums softly to the music, her movements precise as she chops the vegetables and measures out spices. She is very aware of Percy's eyes following her as she moves through the kitchen, but she doesn’t let him distract her.

He leans his chin on his hand, book already forgotten as he looks at her. "You know, you look really good doing that."

"Percy" she says, not looking up. "I’m trying to focus here."

His eyebrows furrow and she doesn’t even have to look at him to know that he's most certainly pouting. She knows her boyfriend. Everytime Percy doesn’t get her whole attention, he becomes whiny.

Immediately, he jumps from his chair and stands up, walking around the counter. He moves closer until he's leaning over her shoulder, his arm sneakily wrapping around her waist. "What are you cooking, anyways?"

"Pasta" She replies simply, gently nudging him away with her elbow. That only makes his indignation grow deeper.

She doesn’t notice this just yet, she's too concentrated on the recipe, making sure she's not skipping any important steps. But then, when she turns to put the pan on the stove, Percy's right there, leaning into her space.

"Do you need something?" she asks, trying not to laugh at the face he's making.

Percy smiles innocently. "What, can't I just hang out with my favorite chef?"

"You're not just hanging out, you're hovering." she says, hiding a smile as she steps around him to get back to the stove, placing the pan down carefully.

"I wouldn't call it hovering." He protests, following her just to wrap his hands around her waist yet again, placing his chin on her shoulder. "I'm just supervising."

"Uh-huh" she mutters, stirring the sauce. She doesn't even turn to look at him, but the corners of her lips twitch, and Percy notices. He always notices.

He smiles, knowing he's already accomplishing something. "You know, I'm starting to like this whole cooking together thing." he mumbles, pressing a kiss on her cheek.

That doesn't even work to take her attention away from the pan. "Together? you haven't done a single thing but try to distract me."

He gasps dramatically. "Not true! i'm providing moral support."

She can't help the laugh that escapes her lips, shaking her head. "Percy, just let me focus"

Of course, Percy takes that laugh as a sign that she's already starting to fall into his antics, that's when he spins her around. "Focus on me."

"Percy! you're going to make me burn something." she exclaims, laughing as Percy begins swaying along with the music playing in the background.

"It'll be fine for just a minute." He pleads, and of course she can't ever say no to him.

When she doesn’t try to pull back, Percy beams and pulls her closer, swaying dramatically to the music. In no time, she has forgotten about the music and she's laughing as he twirls her around the small kitchen.

One dance turns into two, their mismatched steps all around the kitchen as they smile at eachother. And before she's realizes, the smell hits her nose.

"Wait, Percy!" She pulls back abruptly, rushing to the stove.

It's too late, the sauce has boiled over, spilling over the pan in a bubbling mess. She quickly turns the heat off, taking the pan away from the stove even though there's to way to save it, the damage is already done.

"So... pizza or chinese food?" Percy asks, slighly leaning over her shoulder to survey the damage.

She leaves the pan on the counter and turns to glare at him, but the look on his face makes it hard to hide the amused smile that overtakes her features. "Next time, you're staying out of the kitchen"

"No promises." he shrugs, already taking out his phone to pick their dinner.

They end up sitting in the floor, once again surrounded by chinese take out while they watch a movie. And honestly? she can't even pretend to be mad about it.

[lillotte17]

Jumping on the Veilguard Banter wagon bc I'm back in the Solavellan sauce, but I can't seem to focus long enough to finish anything bigger ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

~~

“I can see the wheels turning in that big bald head of yours, Chuckles. What world-ending secrets are you pondering this time?”

“I was merely… Would I be correct in assuming that you are still in contact with former members of the Inquisition?”

“I might be. Why? Looking to liven up your days with another round of mental chess with Tiny? Not sure he’d agree to that. He’s pretty mad about the ‘ripping open the sky again’ thing, although he did think it was funny that you picked Tevinter.”

“No. Thank you. I do not think it likely that the Iron Bull and I could have any sort of conversation that did not end in violence at this point.”

“If you’d prefer, I’m sure I could get Sparkles over here to yell at you about all of this instead. He’s just as mad, but much less likely to try and bury an axe in your skull.”

“I did not ask the question in the interest of having you summon old acquaintances, Varric. I was simply…curious.”

“You can say her name, you know.”

~

“The former Inquisitor-”

“Are we really doing this?”

“…Is she well?”

“How do you think I should answer that question?”

“Honestly, if you are capable.”

“You wound me, Chuckles! I don’t deal in salacious idle gossip.”

“You wrote an entire book about her.”

“I write books about everyone.”

“Varric.”

*sighs* “Look…nothing I could say would make you feel any better. Good or bad, it is what it is. Knowing about it won’t change anything, so why does it matter?”

“She always matters.”

“Could have fooled me.”

~

“I have to ask, is what Varric wrote in his book about you true?”

“Knowing his penchant for peddling exaggerations, half-truths, and blatant falsehoods? Probably not.”

“So, you weren’t madly in love with the former Inquisitor?”

“That is… I have a deep respect for the former Inquisitor, and I am not going to discuss her personal feelings or private affairs.”

“That book has sold enough copies to rival Hard in Hightown at this point, I don’t think anything in there is private anymore. Besides, I was asking about your private affairs, not hers.”

“I am not going to discuss those, either.”

“Oh, so it is true!” *laughs*

[mwahsol]

Hot sauce makes me nervous

Description: You have been invited to go on Hot One's First We Feast. It was recently announced that you're releasing an album but when some were looking through the title names they noticed some were romantic names, there have been rumors of you and a specific Uconn basketball player, leading there to already be a lot of attention on the anticipated album. Later on in the interview, you get asked about a specific song already out asking you who and/or what was the inspiration for it. I am using Sabrina and her music as well from other artists as yours in this because I can't think of good song titles…enjoy :)

“It's the show with hot questions and even hotter wings. Today we’re joined by Y/n L/n, she is one of the most talked about artists. Her debut album from 2021 still to this day is one of the most played in the last four years, some of her latest singles being Please Please Please, Espresso, Nonsense, and The Diner. As well as her new album called Sort n’ Sweet. Y/n L/n welcome to the show.” Sean announces while turning to look at you during the end as to give you the greeting.

“Hi thank you for inviting me, this has been a dream of mine to be here so I am honored and nervous,” you reply a bit nervous since you're fangirling on the inside.

“We’re excited to have you, how are you feeling going into this, are you a fan of hot sauce or prefer to keep things more tame?” He starts with a simple question to try and get you a bit comfortable, keeping things light and steady.

“Umm, I wouldn't say I'm a fan.. when I'm out at dinner I don't go for the spicy flavors but like as a small snack like chips or something yes I'm a fan. Hot sauce makes me all sweaty and nervous if I'm honest.” You say giggling towards the end because you know if you lied your girlfriend's team would never let you live it down when they watch this. “Like one time I thought it was a good idea to try those hot soups filled with peppers and stuff I started to tear up by like the fifth bite.”

At your retelling of the event, Sean is also laughing with you before he starts asking you the question he's prepared and having to dig in.

“I never eat wings with bones in them so this is a little new to me,” you tell him while taking your first bit of the first wing.

“Really? I thought most ate them with the bone in.”

“Yeah I just have an irrational fear of my teeth falling out if I bite down on the bone, that's also why I hate eating with forks.”

Sean and the rest of the people behind the cameras can't help but laugh at your admission. In the background of everyone laughing with you both, you can hear her laughing as well knowing that what you're saying is very much true. Hearing her you turn your head subtly, thinking people wouldn't notice this when posted, looking at her laughing admiring her for a second. You would find out later on people could decently see you turn your head, and if you listened close enough you could hear Paige's laughter in the back.

As the show went on Sean asking you questions about your career, your opinions on your songs, and how you came to be a singer, he asks, “So your song Let the Light In is one of your more romantic yet darker songs. Is there a story behind it or how did the inspiration come to you to create a song like this?”

When hearing his question you started worrying a bit knowing the inspiration wasn't just yours but Paige's too. You look at her in a way asking if she's ok with you answering knowing that this involves a personal situation with her and yourself, when you see her nod and give you an encouraging smile you know she's giving you the go-ahead and will be supportive of your answer. “Well, I wrote the song from my girlfriend mainly, when she had a serious injury and was in a dark place at the time when I met her. As she slowly got better the day she was cleared to play again she told me that she was grateful to have me because meeting me was like a light coming into her life encouraging her to get better. When she told me that I cried because I admitted to her that when I met her I was also at a dark place in my life so meeting her was also like the sun shining after the storm for me. We are each other's lights so I wrote the song for her.” You answer tearing up at the memory but smiling remembering her face when you told her she's your light too.

“It such a heartwarming thing to see how you can take special memories like that and write something beautiful for it, thank you for sharing.” He replied also smiling fondly at you seeing how you made sure with Paige first and telling such a personal moment.

“Thank you too for asking,” you know some interviews would keep pushing for more details, and you're grateful he didn't seeing as how it's not just your story to tell.

By the ninth wing, you started crying while laughing, there were funny instances from you getting a wing and running to Paige telling her to eat it since she was dying by laughing at you, to you falling out of your chair from how fast you turned and reached to grab the milk from the table away from you.

“I feel like my makeup with melting off just by my sweat and tears,” you say struggling to just sit upright but still laughing at your situation.

“Yeah, you look like it.” You heard Paige mumble in the background teasing you knowing it would get a reaction out of you.

“Babe I swear I will go back there and pour this hot sauce down your throat.” Threatening her, not being cautious anymore, while you felt like your mouth was on fire. This makes her laugh even harder as well as the crew and Sean.

After most of the laughter settled down Sean gets ready to ask another question. “This past year you have been spotted at a lot more WCBB and WNBA games, when did you get into watching women's basketball, and why?”

“When I was younger I had brothers that played basketball, they would teach me to play, and tried to get me to watch the NBA. As most big brothers do I just never could get into watching men play but anytime I would find a WNBA game you could bet I was fighting for the controller to put on the game. This year I’ve had a bit more free time since the tour for my last album was done and I took a bit of a break before I started writing this new album so I decided to attend as many as I could.” You weren't technically lying but you did leave out the part where you would mainly go to Uconn games to see your girlfriend back on the court and support her.

“Do you still play?”

“Yeah, a bit nothing serious though,” which is true if anyone on the team asks you to play you would say yes. Paige, while you are both away from Connecticut, if she finds a court shell beg you to play. Even though they're very much significantly taller you'll sometimes land a few points.

“Alright Y/n last one,” he tells you while shaking the last bottle.

“Oh gosh ok ok,” You can feel yourself shaking a little with nervousness but you have to see it through, or else she will never let you forget it. Shaking the bottle as well you try to put a of hot sauce enough to get it but not too much where you're burn your tongue off.

“Before I do this I want the camera and people to see that I did put some on there so she can't say I wussed out,” you tell everyone holding up your wing and looking directly at Paige while she shakes her head laughing at your expression.

“Yes, no one can claim you didn't go through with it, going out with a bang,” Sean tells you backing you up.

When you bite down you can already feel yourself regretting this. You start sweating again, eyes tearing up, nosey runny, you're defiantly making her drive you to go get ice cream.

“So Y/n you stated that in you're elementary through middle school years you took ballet lessons,” as soon as he said those words you knew where this was going and started to mentally prepare yourself, “we wanted to see if you could choreograph a small routine to your song All mine.”

“Of course, I can't promise it'll be good,” you respond while laughing and sniffling.

“Alright let's move these tables and chairs,” Sean says while laughing with you.

When doing your routine you only got a few steps in before you stopped and could continue because of your laughter, “I'm sorry omg I can't do it.”

“Fanominal dance couldn't have asked for better. There it is Y/n L/n taking on the wings of death, living to tell the tale, is there anything you would like to promote.”

“Short n’ Sweet comes out August, listen to it please it'll make me feel better from this. Watch the WNBA they're really cool and watch WCBB they're really cool too.” Biding everyone goodbye while still panting a little.

“Those wings got you good hm baby?” Paige says while driving to a McDonalds to get you a ice cream you almost demanded for.

“Paige, honey, I love you but I swear on everything I love I will make this car crash if we don't get ice cream. I can feel my face melting off.” You claim not even looking at her too busy trying not to keep sniffling.

“Ok ok we're almost there,” she can't help but laugh. I mean can you blame her, you were excited to do this a few hours ago now you look light you lost a fight.

After finally getting you your ice cream it's like your mood did a complete 180. “Thank you my love,” you say as you kiss her all over her face showing her how much you wanted that ice cream.

“The switch-up is crazy,” Paige says while chuckling at your attitude and holding your waist.

“I can stop.”

“Now I never said that come here mama.”

I'm slowly defrosting y'all (I'm losing my mind.) ANYWAY, I hope you guys enjoyed this <3

Kiss the sun 🌞

[acatinabox]

A collection of cultural and food suggestions related to Antiva

From an Italian amateur writer.

Big disclaimer: I am not trying to claim Antiva or his characters as Italian, if you want to see it more Spanish, be my guests. Things in the setting are ambiguous so let's make the most of this vagueness and make space for each others' headcanons.

That said, I'm Italian, and these are the things I can relate/speak about confidently, so I will. I do write Lucanis more Italian in my fanfiction because he was written as such in the Wigmaker Job and it was such a boon to feel represented in a piece of media I loved but I support fan creativity so do whatever you want.

Also these are generalisations. People are not a monolith, goes without saying.

Nobody asked for this, but I hope maybe it helps someone or is interesting.

With that out of the way, here's a collection of themes/suggestions that speak to me, and that might be useful if you want to write them in in your fanfiction and that aren't coffee or organised crime related.

The smell of soffritto at lunch time in the streets. People cook with their windows open when the weather allows it, and the smell of their food permeates the air. You can smell it from the street. Soffritto is the base of many Italian preparations and sauces, so it's a very familiar smell at lunch and dinner time. It's a mix of onion, celery and carrots minced and put in a pan to stir fry with olive oil. If you add a little bit of tomato sauce you make the most basic pasta sauce. Congratulations.

The smell of freshly made bread is fragrant and unique. Every region has its own type of bread and you can easily find a variety of them in most cities. Italian bread is fluffy and light and sometimes a bit dry. Potato bread is made in mountain areas. In the south, bread has a thick dark crust and an airy centre. We eat bread almost at every meal, it's just as iconic and pasta.

I can easily see Lucanis make his own pasta sauce and bread from scratch.

Speaking of bread, I can also see Lucanis make "scarpetta" after he finished eating, which means scraping the sauce from the plate with a bit of bread.

People make small talk in the streets or in the stores, sometimes with complete strangers. It's not a strict social rule but it happens quite often.

The Lucanis/Illario conversation in wigmaker job about not eating Antivan food abroad is the quintessential dynamic between the expat and the relative visiting who expects to not go out of their comfort zone. It happened to me more times than I can count.

Family functions can last all day, we can meet for lunch on a Sunday and spend the whole day together. If you get out of the table before 5PM on a holiday like Christmas or Easter frankly it means you failed as a host (harsh but true). More often than not you'll find yourself staying for a lighter dinner too.

The usual composition of a big meal is antipasto, first course, second course with a side, dessert, fruit, caffè ammazzacaffè. On normal days we only have a main, though.

Ammazzacaffè is the sacred ritual of the digestive after coffee (it literally means coffee killer). I mention it because it's mentioned in the game and in the short stories. It can be I think any strong liquor. We have it after a big lunch or in the evening, usually not at lunch on a working day. It kinda resets you, closes the meal.

Drinking wine has a big convivial function. Drinking alone is not something most people do often, we reserve it for social occasions and usually with a meal.

Dressing up is kind of expected in certain family functions and situations. Not in all families and not at all occasions but I can see it would be expected especially in high society.

Veneto, where RL Treviso is, is known for their creative swearing against god. I can absolutely picture Lucanis shout "by Ghil'an'ain's saggy boobs" or "by Elgar'nan's dried balls" when angry. Honestly go wild, please make up some insults for them and tell me about them (also sorry for the apostrophes, I don't know where they go).

We have a chocolate bonbon, Baci (means kisses), that have paper slips with sappy, romantic quotes in them. Some of Lucanis's phrases remind me of that. I think he'd be a fan and note down his favourite quotes. It's a dark chocolate bonbon with a soft heart and a hazelnut inside.

I said I wouldn't mention coffee but I lied. In some Italian cities there's the tradition of caffè appeso (hung coffee). Someone pays for coffee for themselves and for someone else they don't know that might want one and not be able to afford it. It's adorable and I can see Lucanis do it exaggeratedly all the time because he seems quite generous.

I think I'm done for now and maybe more people will jump up in the mentions or the replies to add their own useful things. I'll try to add some if they come to mind!

[russellsppttemplates]

Could you write something with dad Lando where his kid likes fish and they go to a sushi restaurant and he is trying to not die or throw up?? Please

When Matilda asked Lando if they could have dinner in a sushi restaurant, he couldn't say no to his little girl, even if it meant he wouldn't eat anything there and would have to try his best to not puke his guts out.

"When she asks you for sushi, you immediately say yes, but when I do it, you tell me to eat in whenever you're having a dinner out and I'm not there", you teased your husband as you walked inside the restaurant, bouncing Fraser on your hip as your little boy looked around while you waited for someone to direct you to your table, "I have been here before with you, baby", Lando reasoned, holding Matilda's hand in his, "I know, just teasing - it's actually cute how she has you wrapped around her finger", you kissed his cheek.

Lando excused himself to go to the bathroom just as the waiter came to take your order, discussing with him what the best ones would be for you and Matilda, "so that one for me and her to share, some rice for this little guy", you said as you skimmed over the menu looking for something else, "And for your husband, would you like me to suggest something?", he offered as he looked at the menu too.

"Daddy doesn't like fish, mummy", Matilda whispered as she pulled on your sleeve to get your attention, "That's true, princess", you spoke to her to let her know you heard her, "he doesn't eat fish - do you still have spring rolls?", you asked the waiter who nodded, "then he'll have those! thank you", you smiled.

By the time Lando was back, you could tell the smell was getting to him, "do you want to smell my perfume? I put an extra spritz on my wrist for you", you stretched your arm out, Matilda busy drawing on the small sketch book got for her and Fraser happily fiddling with your necklaces and pendants, "And people still say romance is dead", Lando deadpanned as he took your hand, kissing your knuckles and taking a big whiff of your scent, blowing you a kiss after he winked at you.

When the food was brought to the table, however, it became hard for Lando to control the scent, sitting as far from it as he could, taking deep breaths with his mouth, "it really doesn't smell nice", he muttered before straightening his back and focusing in dipping his spring rolls on the sweet and sour sauce.

"I know you don't like fish, daddy, so thank you for coming with us", Matilda said sweetly, "are you sure you don't want to try this one? You can barely taste the fish", she said, holding her chopsticks with a small piece out for him.

Lando swalled thickly before answering, "Matilda, I love you and mummy and Fraser more than any words can say or any amount of trips to the sushi restaurant, but I'm going to pass on that, okay? Daddy is fine, I'll get something else on the way home", he assured her as the spring rolls onky satisfied him so much, "thank you, though, sweet girl", he kissed her forehead, mindful of the little fingers that hand been touching the fish every now and again.

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[mingtinys]

" have you eaten today ? "

pairing : boo seungkwan x gn!reader

"13 ways to say "i love you" with seventeen"

warnings : mentions of food , language (seungkwan calls the reader "dumbass" lovingly)

word count : 0.6 k

a/n : words cannot describe the love i have for boo seungkwan , if my future partner isn't boo seungkwan himself i don't WANT them .

You'd like to think after two years, you've grown used to Seungkwan's disapproving glare. But jeez, if he isn't laying it on thick tonight. You're pretty sure he's actually burned two dime-sized holes through your laptop with the way he glowering from his spot across from you.

"Boo..." You draw out his name in a warning, not bothering to look up or cease typing. "You're gonna strain your corneas if you don't quit it."

"Your fingers are gonna fall off if you don't quit it." He mocks.

You spare a full three seconds to look up from your computer just to shoot him a look that says really? Now you're just being immature.

"I told you when you insisted on coming over I wouldn't be able to entertain you. This project is due in two days and I need to focus." You huff out.

It's true, you literally told him three times over on the phone he was welcome at your place, but that he'd have to be quiet and let you work. Which, in hindsight, you really should have known better considering it's Seungkwan, but you felt bad having already blown off your boyfriend three times this week due to this project. And judging from his tone when he called, he was two seconds from marching over and kicking down your door anyway.

Seungkwan clicks his tongue. "This isn't about being entertained—" you highly doubt that "—it's about you being a dumbass and overworking yourself."

You roll your eyes, but that only seems to fuel his persistence. "It's been hours since I got here and you've yet to take a break."

"I will in a bit, just let me finish this."

Seungkwan doesn't get the chance to retort. The doorbell rings with what you assume is the take-out he called in for himself a little over thirty minutes ago. You'd originally told him you didn't want anything, shooing him to quiet down when he tried to ask. But now, you're starting to regret that. Especially when the smell of his food wafts into the room moments after the door shuts.

He sits back down across from you, opening the containers and making quick work of digging in. The scent of it hits your nose tenfold, and at that, your stomach growls. Loud enough for Seungkwan's head to pop up and his eyes to narrow. Traitor, you curse at your stomach.

Seungkwan tilts his head and you're too scared to meet his gaze for fear of being scolded.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, with a soft tone and unexpected seriousness. You just shrug, not wanting to let go of your pride.

"I'm fine."

He scoffs and immediately starts using the container's lid to dish out a heaping portion. All the while muttering to himself about you being difficult and how you're going to give him at least twelve new grey hairs.

"Here, take half." He shoves the lid, which definitely has more than half piled onto it, towards you.

When you just blankly stare at it, he sighs and picks up a piece with his chopsticks. He extends his arm as far as it can go until the item, drenched in a sweet-smelling sauce, is centimeters from your lips. "Eat." He instructs. So you do, admitting defeat by finally pushing your computer to the side and exchanging it for the plate Seungkwan fixed you.

"I swear, what would you do without me." He teases, beaming with pride.

taglist: @matchahyuck @dontwannaexsist @minnieminshi @myfavoritedelusion @tanya596carat

[inbabylontheywept]

Realizing in hindsight that the only reason I was so skeptical about your camp story is that being covered in a combination of crusty, sticky pink residue and rotten fish oil for days on end while sleeping on a wooden floor in the Arizona heat sounded like such unbearable sensory agony that I wanted to convince myself it was fake, because I didn't want to believe that anybody had genuinely been through that. I'd have walked out of that place with a rucksack of pink ooze and either find my way back to civilization or become crispy pink buzzard chow after day 2.

Like, legitimately, I think about my reaction to that post a lot. The imagery was so deeply unpleasant that I was desperately scrambling to convince myself it wasn't true like I'd just found out my spouse was a serial killer. There was no torture, no death, no hunger or disease, just a bunch of sweaty guys being covered in sticky fruit-flavored slime, subjected to unpleasant smells, and sleeping blanketless on the floor. And you can't even smell! You were spared a good third of it! Yet your experience still horrified me worse than any war story, medieval torture device or horror movie for reasons I cannot hope to fathom.

idk, I've had this ask stewing in my head for months, but I keep forgetting to actually write and send it. In my heart of hearts, I knew your story was perfectly plausible. I was just grasping at straws, praying for you to admit that no, nobody has ever showered in off-brand Gatorade and then not slept for 3 days while being expected to attend uni lectures. It's all untrue, a ruse, a trick, and such things could never happen outside of the cruelest depths of hell. Santa Claus is real, teachers live in the school, babies are delivered by storks, and the pink sauce incident never happened.

My mom pulls me into a warm hug after I scrape my knee. The plastic egg I found under the couch opens to reveal a piece of chocolate. A dollar magically appears under the pillow where I'd put my tooth. All is well. I am safe. The universe is kind, and whoever's running it loves me.

It's a sunny August day and I'm holding a popsicle on the swingset. I'm using my plastic dinosaurs to act out an improvised battle between good guys and bad guys as I sit on the carpeted floor. I'm playing Fossil Fighters on my dinged-up Nintendo DS in the plush brown armchair by the window.

I add the carrot nose to my snowman. Candy plops into my Halloween bag. The speaker on the classroom wall announces that school's out for summer, and we all bound out the door with wild glee, free at last.

Panting, wheezing, I drag my battered form back into the cobbled-together wreckage of my innocence, only one arm remaining with which to drag myself, blood and intestines trailing behind me as the storm rages overhead, washing my entrails downstream. I huddle underneath what remains of my once-pristine shelter from the cold and wet, pulling the shards back together as best I can as the wind howls angrily, hatefully. It's no use. It's broken. It's gone. It cannot be repaired. My innocence will never return to me. The rain seeps through the cracks and lands upon my face.

The rain is pink, I realize, and I cry.

First off: I haven’t actually been on the receiving end of this before and I have to say, it's an almost literally gripping experience. I felt this rat for the last three paragraphs.

Incredibly well done. Second: If you just didnt' want to believe, that's fine, I barely have room in me for medium fries - a grudge would just pour out the top, too much tea for my cup. But you don't have to like, gaslight yourself into thinking the story is totally normal and believable (I always stretch my stories out a little) or beat yourself up over it for months. I meant it when I said we're good, you and I. It still makes me happy to see a comment or a like or, rarely, a question like this from you.

If it's just something that pops into your mind every now and again, I dunno, don't sweat it. I'd hate to give you a complex. Did I mention that I loved that writing for this? Incredible experience.

[rebeliz7]

Dangerous

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

Request: 32 & 64 prompts for Wanda or Natasha or maybe both😏

32. “If you interrupt me one more time, so help me god.”

64. “You’re not taking me to bed. ever.” “Who said it had to be on the bed?”

…

“If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God.” Natasha threatens you, annoyed and left eye twitching. 

She’s not being serious, at least not entirely, but you still raise your hands in surrender and lean back in your seat. 

However, her eyes stay firmly locked with yours, and you have to smile at how worked up she seems. She rolls her eyes when you smile, just like you were expecting her to, and the meeting moves along. 

You weren’t interrupting her exactly, but it’s become intensely apparent that your presence annoys the hell out of Natasha. Whatever the reason.  

Not that you go out of your way to annoy her, that’s not the case at all. The thing is, and you’ve been aware of this for a while now, you make her nervous. So nervous that she doesn’t know how to deal with you. 

No one else seems to be aware of that little fact, although the entire Avengers Team lives together for the time being. But Natasha knows that you know, which makes her angry. 

Irrationally so, you must say. 

“She’s gonna get you one of these days.” Clint warns you in a low voice. 

“Yeah, but not today.” You joke, and Clint laughs softly to himself. 

“You don’t wanna push Nat. Trust me.” 

“Oh I'm not worried, trust me.”

…

The meeting ends on a neutral note, since Sam and Bucky lost track of their target on their latest mission. A team needs to fly out to Mexico to lend a hand and things will get a move on again. 

Steve and Clint are going, and so is Shuri. This is not Shuri’s first mission, but you take it upon yourself to get her as ready as she can be before they fly out. 

She’s grown on you, in a 'younger sister' sort of way. You guess it's because she’s younger than you, and so amazingly smart, that her awe for everything you guys do endears her to you greatly. 

“Don’t get killed while I’m gone.” She tells you as you walk her into the hanger, and you’re tempted to laugh. 

“You’re going on a mission with Barton, you’re the one that should be worried. I’ll be fine right here.”

“True, but Natasha is about to kick your ass into a coma if you keep pushing her.” She reminds you, and you huff indignantly. 

“Why does everyone think she can kick my ass that easily?” You ask loudly, just as Clint comes out of the jet with a pointed look. 

“Because she can.” He deadpans. “And she will if you don’t give her some space.”

“I didn’t hear any of that.” You pointendly tell him while Shuri gives you a goodbye hug. “Still trying to process this lack of faith from both of you in my fighting skills.”

“Keep it up.” Clint tells you with another look.

“That’s what she said.” You joke, and you hear Shuri laugh too. Clint chuckles and shakes his head at you, probably thinking that you’re gonna get your ass kicked for real.  

“There’s a kid here!” Steve shouts from the jet, and you run back inside before that lecture reaches your ears.  

…

When you walk inside the kitchen you find Wanda by the stove, stirring a red sauce and your spirits instantly pique up. 

“Can I have some?” You ask, coming up behind her. She yelps in surprise, and you press a kiss on her cheek. 

“You scared me.” She smiles, her cheeks tainting red at your proximity, and you lean against the counter as she turns off the stove before checking on the pasta. “Can you set the table? This is ready.”

She’s a pro at this, and you can't resist her cooking. 

“It smells really good. My mouth is watering already.” You tell her as you set out two plates, and her cheeks grow redder. 

You smile to yourself, and can’t deny that you’re almost inclined to kiss those cheeks again, but you resist the urge. You and Wanda didn’t exactly date, but you did sleep together a few times, and you thought of asking her out properly, but the timing was never right so nothing real ever came up from it. 

Then she moved on -with Vision of all people- and you moved on too. Not that anyone was supportive when you started dating Emma Frost, and maybe you see their point now. Emma was a wild ride, to say the least. 

Shaking your head to get rid of the memories, you pass Wanda the plates. 

“Can you get another one?” Wanda asks you. 

“This isn’t dinner for two?” You ask as you go to take down another plate, and she shakes her head. 

“Natasha is here too. She went to take a quick shower, so she'll be here any minute.”

You smile to yourself. 

...

Natasha is tempted to bolt the moment she sees you’re going to join them for dinner, and you grin when you meet her eyes. It must be infuriating that you can so easily tell what goes through her mind, when she’s spent her entire life training to be unreadable. 

You know she hates it, and often wonders how you’re capable of doing it. To be quite honest, you have no idea either. You just have this sixth sense when it comes to her, that lets you read her like an open book. 

But, you keep your mouth shut all through dinner. You behave, while Wanda and Natasha chat away. You even get seconds, and fill their glasses with more wine when they get low. 

All in all, you don’t annoy Natasha at all while you eat, and you even offer to clean up while they move to the living room with a second bottle of red to continue their conversation. 

You put the dishes in the dishwasher, wipe down all the surfaces, and when you’re done you take a beer from the fridge with the intention to leave them to it. 

“You can join us.” Natasha calls out, just as you take your first sip. 

“You sure?” You ask her, and she rolls her eyes, her go-to reaction whenever you open your mouth.

“As long as you keep the innuendos to yourself, we’re okay.” She sips her wine delicately then, and you -a mere mortal- become entranced with the shape of her lips, and the sensual way in which she drinks. 

“Sure.” You clear your throat, and drink almost half of your beer in one go. 

You’d be lying if you said that you’ve never thought of Natasha in other, much more naked circumstances, but you’re aware that that is never gonna happen, and you’re okay with it. 

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet.” Wanda notices after a while when she comes back with yet another bottle of red, and another beer for you. 

“I don’t want to annoy the pretty lady over there.” Natasha groans at your response, which only makes you smile. You almost can’t believe how easy it is for her to become agitated in your presence. 

“You gotta try harder than that.” She deadpans, and Wanda takes the seat next to yours instead of sitting in front of you, like she was before she went to the kitchen. 

“I’m not annoying, am I?” You ask Wanda, and she gives you this smile that you immediately feel drawn to. 

You breathe in deeply as she gives you this look that makes hot electricity run through you, and runs her fingers through your hair. You do miss her, especially when she’s looking at you like this and her fingers are in your hair.

“You’re quite charming.” She says, and you think she might reciprocate if you were to kiss her right now. 

“You see?” You look at Natasha, and she rolls her eyes, but not with malice. 

“Maybe I just don’t like you.” She says before sipping her newly refilled glass of wine, and you clutch your chest in mock offense. 

“You wound me.” You scoff while smiling, but deep down you do feel hurt by her words. Not a lot, but still. 

“Natasha likes you.” Wanda tells you then, and you’d think she’s joking if the look on Natasha’s face wasn’t so telling. 

“She does, huh?” You ask, mostly to yourself. 

“I thought there were things we agreed on not sharing with anyone.” Natasha reminds her, and Wanda shrugs lightly, the glass of wine close to her lips as she smiles. 

“What happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom?” She asks, and with a start you realize that she’s slightly drunk, and oversharing is -unfortunately- her one obvious tell. 

That’s how everyone found out that you two were sleeping together a while ago, and right now she’s just revealed that she and Natasha are a little more than just friends.

“I swear to God, if you even think of saying anything right now.” Natasha threatens you, and you laugh, your comeback at the tip of your tongue. 

“She likes you too.” Wanda tells Natasha, her finger pointing at you, and you choke on your beer. 

“You’re not seriously trying to play matchmaker here.” Natasha’s grin is otherwise telling of how amused she’s finding this entire exchange. 

“What? It's not like I even had to look inside her head to know that.” Wanda says, and you finally put your beer down after getting your coughing fit under control. “I’m not wrong, am I?” 

She has the audacity to shoot you a smug look, as if she wasn’t throwing you under the bus here.

“Well, no.”

“Great.” Natasha sneers. 

“Okay, now hold on.” You speak up as Wanda laughs, and you take the glass of wine from her hands. She’s had enough to drink. “There are different levels of liking someone.”

“Educate us, please.” Wanda is trying to hold back laughter now, and you really - she’s just - she’s such a little shit.

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly kick Nat out of my bed. But, I’m not interested in anything more than that. No offense.” You add quickly.

“None taken, and you’re not taking me to bed. Ever. So don’t worry about it.” Natasha tells you, and how can you not take that one? Sometimes she just makes it easy for you. 

“Who said it had to be a bed?” You retort and her face turns red, and you’re not sure if she’s about to kick your ass or just shoot you on the spot.

However, you’re not expecting her to walk over, and kiss you dead on the lips. Which is exactly what she does. 

When she pulls back Wanda is laughing, and you’re pretty sure you’re dreaming. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Natasha asks when you finally open your eyes, and you swallow with difficulty. 

Without waiting a beat you pull her back in, kissing her again, a bit more forcefully than she did first, and she kisses you back in earnest. A part of you isn’t sure of what’s happening, but the other part of you is enjoying this turn of events quite a bit. 

“Well, well, well.” You comment when she pulls back, as if she’s finally realized what she was doing. If you’re smiling like a lunatic it’s only because you truly can't help it. 

“Is anyone going to kiss me?” Wanda asks, and you break eye contact with Natasha to look at her. 

“Come here, you needy monster.” You pull her onto your lap, and she straddles you with ease and familiarity. A pretty smile on her pink lips as she cups your face, and you wrap your arms around her waist. 

Kissing Wanda is still heaven. You’re once again submerged in her world, and you still find it incredibly addictive. She bites your bottom lip softly as she rocks her hips forward to meet yours, and you can’t help but let your hands wander. 

Grabbing a handful of her ass you pull her closer to you as she deepens your kiss, and you can taste the red wine on her tongue. Her breath is hot as she breathes heavily into your mouth, and your mind becomes fuzzy with want.

“Such a good kisser.” Wanda says against your lips, and you smile sweetly. She’s so adorable, especially from this angle, and the way she scrunches up her nose makes you want to kiss all over her face. 

“Better than me?” Natasha asks, and to your surprise you turn your head to find her sitting right next to you. 

“I’m not sure.” Wanda says with a false thoughtful look, and hidden smile. 

Natasha doesn’t give her a verbal answer, instead you watch the redhead grab Wanda by the neck, and pull her down for an intense kiss that has Wanda moaning in a matter of seconds. 

You watch them kiss while holding Wanda’s hand, and your throat dries up. You watch, and realize that this is actually happening. You watch until you can’t anymore. 

Grabbing a hold of Wanda’s arm you pull her back to you, and kiss her hungrily. She’s still moaning, her hands now desperately pulling off your shirt, as you do the same with her sweater. 

You hear Natasha softly chuckling next to you, but you’re already too wrapped up in everything that Wanda is to care about the world, let alone Natasha’s smug laughter. 

“I’ve missed your lips,” Wanda says as she pulls back slightly, a tipsy smile on her extremely kissable lips. 

You smile while your hands squeeze her bare waist, and you don't hold back from kissing her again. You’ve missed her lips too, and you hope she can read between the lines. 

Her hands in your hair pull back lightly, exposing your neck as she moves to place heady kisses all over it. You’re breathing rapidly now, your hands massaging her breasts, as she licks a path up your throat, still pulling on your hair. 

“Kinda feeling left out here.” Natasha’s voice breaks through the fog in your mind, and Wanda sits back on your lap, as she tries to get her breathing under control. 

“I’m not sure of what's happening exactly.” Wanda says as you inch closer to her. Your hands are still on her, touching every inch of her exposed skin as you can, while she combs back your hair. You kiss her upper breast, careful not to leave any hickies, despite desperately wanting to. 

She gasps, and you look up to kiss her lips, focusing on pinching her nipples now as she rocks her hips forward. 

“You want to stop?” You ask after pulling back only the necessary amount to be able to ask her that. 

“No.” She shakes her head, her hand gently caressing your cheek as she looks into your eyes. “I think I want you both.”

Instinctively you look towards Natasha, who is still holding her glass of wine, and sipping the red liquid delicately as she observes the two of you. 

“Do you - ” Wanda grabs your chin, making you look at her. “Do you want me?” She asks, and you move to pull her ever closer to you. As if that’s possible.  

“Always.” You nod quickly, and as you kiss the corner of her lips she turns to look at Natasha with the same question. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about that.” You hear Natasha say, but you refuse to stop kissing every single inch of her skin to look. 

“I don’t?” Wanda asks breathlessly, your mouth doing wonders on her neck, while your hands reacquainted themselves with the rest of her body. 

“You don’t.” Natasha says, and she sounds much closer now. Her voice is more sultry than you've ever heard it before, and you pull back, if only to see the look on her face. 

You watch her take Wanda’s outstretched hand as she stands, and pulls Wanda on her feet as well. You swallow with difficulty as you watch her kiss Wanda softly, lips merely ghosting over each other. 

However fleeting the kiss though, you see Wanda’s legs quiver and Natasha’s arm wrapping around her waist to keep her upright. 

“Bedroom?” She asks her with the confidence of someone who already knows the answer, and Wanda nods, as if in a daze. 

You watch them walk away, and you try to calm your racing heart, but it’s difficult when Wanda turns to you from the hallway. 

“You coming?” She asks you, and you’re pretty sure that your brain short circuits. 

You stand up, picking up your unfinished beer, and down it in one go before you nod, and walk towards her. 

“That's what she said.” You stupidly joke, and Natasha rolls her eyes expectedly, but now you see that the edge in her eyes isn’t entirely hate. 

“Incorrigible.” Wanda smiles as she grabs your hand, and pulls enough for you to fall into step next to her. 

“You’re dangerous.” You murmur close to her ear as you wrap your arms around her from behind, and she throws you a side glance, feigning innocence. 

“I have no idea what you mean.” She says, and Natasha chuckles lightly as she unlocks the door to her bedroom. 

“Sure you don’t.” She says as she pulls Wanda in for a demanding kiss, and you close the door behind you. 

Well, you think to yourself, Natasha might actually end up killing you after all, but at least it’ll be pleasurable for the both of you. 

...

[bigfan-fanfic]

Some Type of Way (Male!Reader x Joel Miller)

Sarah smirks at her father as the man helps her gather her overnight bag for the sleepover.

"Wipe that look off your face it or it'll stay like that." Joel nudges her shoulder playfully. "What are you even smirking about?"

"Someone has a daaaaaaa-aaaaate."

"Smart mouth."

"Buy my silence."

"I'm letting you go on this sleepover, aren't I?"

"Yeah, cause you have a daaaaaa-"

He tugs her out of the kitchen by her backpack. "All right, I have a date. Happy?"

When she finally gets to plant her feet, she looks up at him. "Are you? I mean... how many dates is this? Have you two-"

Joel raises an eyebrow. "Do you really wanna ask that question, baby girl?"

"Ew. No, never mind." she shudders. "But still... you like him a lot."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Dad?"

The car pulls up. She has to go, but he can tell this is important. "Yeah, baby girl?"

"I like him too." she says softly.

Joel hugs her tight for a moment and they share it together. All the things they don't say, all the hopes they have. Then she smirks again.

"Say hi to him for me."

"Will do. Now you call me if anything happens. I got you that dang cell phone for emergencies."

"Yeah, Dad!"

She breezes off, and Joel stands on the porch, distracted, until you pull up.

He holds you tight when you hurl yourself into his arms, pulling you inside, closing the door on the world so he can just experience you.

Joel's life is pretty stressful. Being a single dad, dealing with his less-than-steady carpenter work, and trying to muddle through. But you are always his oasis, it seems.

He wants to give the people he loves everything, and he hates that he sometimes can't give them all he thinks they deserve.

But you don't ask for much, really. No matter how many "stay-in" dates with crappy spaghetti with store-bought sauce he makes, you don't ask to go out for fancier meals. Sometimes you even take him out.

Sarah likes you too - you relate to her well, even if you try to not get involved in her raising, knowing Joel might take offense.

He feels some type of way about you. And though you both know he's head over heels for you, you've never rushed him to say it.

Joel has always been uneasy about owing people. But with you, the emotion of gratitude is something powerful.

"I thought we would cook together this time, so I brought some stuff." you grin, and he kisses the top of your head.

"And here I thought I'd be your personal chef tonight. What, you don't like my spaghetti?"

You wink. "I love your spaghetti. But I think you'll love my garlic bread more."

When you first started dating, Joel was rigid in trying to maintain the role he thought he had to play. Provider and rock, masculine and constantly steady.

But your ease and the comfort you bring to him has allowed him to soften, to show you his true self, the one that usually only comes out around Sarah.

He's a jokester, with a wry and sarcastic wit, but also happy to follow along and find something to enjoy or find something humorous in any situation.

He puts on some music from an old CD and you two dance with each other as you cook and bake the garlic bread.

"I'll handle the cleanup. So we don't have to worry about it in the morning." you offer, and Joel winks.

"You mean I ain't kicking you out right after tonight?" he teases, and you smack him in the gut. "Fine, fine, but you let me cook breakfast for you."

"Oh, you drive a hard bargain, sir. But I guess I'll allow it. Besides, I got the whole weekend off, so I can stay over if you want."

Joel comes over, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the back of your neck. "Do you have to leave?"

He's asked things like this before, flirting and romantic, but you sense something... more, this time.

"Well... my lease will be up in a couple of months."

He stiffens, recognizing the unsaid offer, and then he hugs you closer. "I'll have to talk to Sarah about it, but... how would you feel about moving in here?"

"Are you sure, Joel? I know you're starting to save up for your startup and-"

"I want this. You. I want to wake up with you and take you to bed. I think I wanna share my life with you. Fully."

There's a moment you turn and kiss him where he knows he should say it, but he just can't, yet. He's far too cynical and far too wounded to say it without knowing for sure.

But ironically, the fact that you don't push is bringing him to that conclusion anyway. "You make me feel some type of way, Joel Miller."

He kisses you back, barely resisting the urge to pick you up and carry you off right then. "So do you, babe. So do you."

He'll tell you. Soon enough. After all, you two will have all the time in the world...