#Even if I need to do that by telling you are a stick of cinnamon or a mushroom

[writersdrug]

Konig despises eggplant. He won't go near the stuff. No matter how you cook it, he'll shiver and grimace every time you offer him a bite.

He goes with you everywhere - and I mean everywhere. Sits at the empty table next to you while you get your nails done. Walks down the path from your front door to the mailbox at the crack of dawn, his hands shoved in his pajama pants. Clingy, though he'll never admit it.

Loves a bar of 70% cocoa as a snack. Doesn't need water or milk to wash it down, but he won't turn down a glass of cold, whole milk if it's offered to him (it never is. He grabs it himself).

He'll yell at you to turn the water temperature down when you shower together. Corners himself as far away from the stream as he can, acting like you're threatening him with a scalding fire poke.

When he comes home after missions, he doesn't always drag you to the bedroom to do the devil's tango. Sometimes, he hugs you tightly and begs you to make an actual meal, something to replenish him after weeks of boiled chicken and canned beans from wherever he was shipped off to. He wants you to sit at the table with him and just talk, please just distract him from his own thoughts.

If you hand him something, he'll hold it. He won't even pause what he's doing, whether that's talking about Spartan phalanx formations, or listening to you babble about your day. And he won't let whatever it is go until you tell him what to do with it. You'll turn around, seeing him holding the half stick of butter you handed him well over five minutes ago. "König, baby, you can put that back in the fridge."

He holds your breasts in his sleep in a non-sexual way - but damn, his grip can be fucking tight sometimes. He's got his head resting on your soft stomach, snoring against your skin as his fingers dig and squeeze at your tits. It takes a few minutes of your whining and shoving at his head before he finally relents, wrapping his arms around your waist instead.

He's happy to go to Home Goods with you and spend an hour just sniffing the different candles. He tends to lean towards the apple, cinnamon, pumpkin, or any warm, holiday scents. He can't stand the ones like "tropical waves", or "fresh linen".

He has eaten an entire wheel of brie cheese in one sitting. Multiple times. With nothing else to compliment it. And he will do it again. You can't stop him.

[cheetabites]

☆彡 cinnamon pt 2 ˳༄꠶

character: kang dae-ho (player 388)

˳༄꠶ summary: five sfw and nsfw general headcannons for dae-ho

sfw headcannons

★ he’s a man that knows how to dress himself well. in korea, the importance on appearance is a reinforced by society so lots of people dress good, but i’m telling you that he knows how to keep up appearances - even if his clothes remain casual, all his outfits look good on him; he mainly wears black high waisted dress pants w/ wide pant legs paired with a loose fitting shirt & a cardigan or an oversized hoodie w/ cargo pants

★ he has a sad playlist that he jams out to regularly; even if nothing bad happened. he could be doing the most mundane task - like walking down the streets of korea - and one of the most heartbreaking songs would be blasting out of his earphones

★ he hates needles, and i mean he hates them. sure, he got a tattoo, but if he has to do anything like getting his blood drawn he’ll bolt it out of there - unless you’re there and you hold his hand

★ he’s one of those people that keeps all their app tabs open on their phone. and probably barely has any storage space because of the amount of pictures he has of you and other things; he doesn’t want to delete them because he thinks he’ll forget the moment

★ he’s big on physical touch. there isn’t a moment where he can go on without holding your hand or wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. it’s also normal for him to place tiny kisses on your face whenever the opportunity arises

nsfw headcannons

★ loves to tell you how beautiful you are when you please each other. your hair could be messy and sticking to your face, or you’re sweating profusely, but it doesn’t matter. he never wants to think your any less than beautiful

★ he really likes when you ride him; especially when he’s just laying flat - no hands on you or anything - on the bed and you lay your palms flat on his shoulders for support

★ the idea of you just using him for pleasure really gets him off - like if you were stressed and needed to blow of steam so you decide to pin him down and be a little bit mean and condescending while you please him; he usually cries when you guys fuck like that, but it’s always out of pleasure

★ he wouldn’t want to have sex anywhere besides the bedroom. i feel like both of you tried it once in a more public place - like maybe one of your guys’ cars or in a hotel room - but it turned him off so bad that you both agreed to not try that again

★ he’s all for waking you up by eating you out (consensual somnophilia); hearing you gasp as you awake and having you card your fingers through his hair to tug on it, it’s one of the best sights he’d ever witnessed. he usually does this on the days he has to work cause he loves riling you up, but he always makes sure to clean you up before he leaves

the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!

© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 3 2025.

[judasofsuburbia]

something something caretaker! steve gets hired by rockstar! eddie to look after and live with wayne. everything is set up over the phone after eddie was given his resume so eddie's never physically seen the guy but he has enough positive reviews and references that it seems like there is anybody in this world that doesn't like this steve harrington fellow.

wayne munson soon becomes his #1 fan.

wayne keeps telling eddie all about steve in their weekly phone calls. anytime eddie tries to steer the conversation into something actually about wayne's health and wellbeing, wayne manages to involve steve. says that steve's blushing face is real handsome while steve rolls his eyes and laughs to himself across the room.

"you should come home on your next break," wayne says.

"i'm planning to."

"steve really wants to meet you," wayne says with an infliction.

"well, shit, wayne. from how much you gush about him, i'm excited to meet your new boyfriend too," eddie teases.

"oh hush, you. my casanova days are over. you, however, could use someone good."

the next break eddie has, nearly six months after steve starts working for the munsons, he arrives at nearly 11pm. he's quiet as he sneaks into the house he bought wayne years ago and nearly shits himself when he sees steve hanging out on the couch watching TV. he drops his suitcase to the floor, jolting steve out of his trance.

"oh god, i'm so sorry!" steve rushes to say as eddie clutches his chest and tries to steady his breathing.

"steve, i take it?" eddie laughs breathlessly.

"yeah, hi," steve stands from the couch and holds his hand out. "nice to finally meet you."

steve steps into the light as he does this and eddie's taken aback by just how handsome he is. oh fuck, wayne wasn't just messing around. eddie takes his hand, firm and strong, and shakes it.

"sorry to jumpscare you like that," steve smiles and his eyes twinkle in the low hallway light.

"no, i should've prepared myself," eddie says. "someone hasn't been in the house either than wayne or i in....well, ever."

"don't worry, i'll try to keep mostly to myself as you two have quality bonding time," steve replies sheepishly.

eddie shakes his head. "you don't gotta do that. you're more welcome around us than anyone. i owe you so much for looking after him."

steve smiles. "you already sign all my paychecks."

right, yeah. eddie's technically this guy's boss. eddie's never really thought of it that way before. that means any plans eddie's monkey brain had in the last thirty seconds about flirting with the handsome caretaker is out the window. it wouldn't be appropriate. eddie slouches and gives steve a tired smile.

"i'm gonna turn in. see you at breakfast?" eddie asks, hopeful despite his conflicting internal monologue.

"be prepared for oatmeal," steve jokes. "it's the only thing he wants for breakfast nowadays."

eddie scrunches up his face. "you don't have any poptarts or anything fun stashed away somewhere?"

"depends. do you like brown sugar cinnamon?" steve asks.

"love it," eddie whispers.

"then yeah, your breakfast fate can be a little better," steve nudges his elbow and it lights up eddie's skin.

"thank you caretaker steve," eddie salutes and turns heel to his teenage bedroom.

over the next few days, eddie goes out of his mind. he watches steve just do his job, the job he hired him to do, and he's still going crazy over it. how steve prepares for everything, accidents and things eddie couldn't even predict. spoon feeds wayne if his hands are too shaky. jokes and messes around with him like he's family. wayne's eyes keep drifting over to eddie's when steve isn't looking, a smug little smirk on his face.

"it can't happen," eddie seethes when steve leaves the room. "you're what's important here and i need him to stick around."

"and i need you to stop moping about the country, getting your heart broken every other week," wayne retorts. "steve's a good boy. he would treat you right."

"we don't even know if he's gay," eddie grumbles.

wayne gives him an unimpressed look that makes eddie bark out a frustrated laugh. "take a look at his bedroom, kid. you'll have all your questions answered," wayne advises right before steve returns.

"jeopardy time?" steve asks, hands already on wayne's wheelchair handles.

"eddie is gonna beat us both," wayne claims.

"that so?" steve beams. eddie is glaring daggers at wayne.

"he's full of useless facts," wayne jokes while eddie throws up his hands and steve laughs joyfully.

eddie falls for steve more and more as the week goes on. he tries his best to restrain it, tries his best to never be alone with steve. catches himself from checking steve out (especially in his daily running outfit, god) and swallows flirtatious lines that nearly escape his mouth. it's hard to say no when steve invites him to watch a movie or hang out with him while he cooks dinner but he does. eddie has to be coming off like a total dick at this point but it's for the best.

steve is out running an errand so eddie finally decides to snoop only a little bit. opens steve's bedroom door and smiles at all the decorations. sure enough, there is a little bisexual pride flag sticking out of the pen cup on his desk. eddie is admiring framed photos of steve and some kids along with little handwritten camp postcards on his corkboard when steve enters the room.

"anything interesting?" steve jokes from the doorway.

"shit!" eddie yells, clutching his chest again like he did the first night. "fuck, i'm so sorry."

"don't be," steve shrugs easily. "it is your house after all. i snoop your teenage bedroom all the time when wayne asks me to change the sheets."

"still, i shouldn't be invading your privacy," eddie says with an apologetic face.

steve walks carefully over to where eddie is standing. "i don't think there is much privacy between us where wayne is concerned," steve says quietly with a kind smile, leaning up against the desk.

"i'm sorry about him," eddie groans, rubbing his hand over his chin. "he is a little pushy about my love life."

"no, i'm sorry that he's weird about us. i swear i called you handsome once and he has never left it alone since," steve admits with a small blush.

eddie's eyebrows raise. "you think i'm handsome?"

"are you kidding me? you got this whole," steve gestures in a circle, "rockstar bravado going on. hard not to admire the show."

"well, you've got a show i admire too," eddie admits, inching closer.

steve huffs, looking down bashfully. "do i?"

"mhm. smart, genuine guy with a heart of gold. makes wayne's days better. lights up a room. probably rescues cats from trees and saves drowning puppies," eddie smiles.

steve tilts his head from side to side. "i may have rescued a cat before but it was stuck under my little brother Dustin's porch."

"see? heart of gold," eddie repeats.

steve exhales deeply, twisting his mouth. "i wasn't sure if you liked me."

eddie reaches his hand over and touches steve's hand on top of the desk. steve looks up shyly to eddie's sympathetic face. "i didn't want to-- there's a power trip here, you know? like you said, i sign your paychecks. i'm not about to pull out the moves and make you feel like your job is at risk if you aren't into it."

steve nods before slowly rubbing his thumb over eddie's.

"and if i am into it?" steve whispers.

"well i--" eddie stutters.

"can i kiss you?" steve asks quietly. eddie's not sure he's ever been asked in his entire life.

eddie nods. when steve's lips touch his, it's all over. any pretense of keeping his feelings undercover blows up like fireworks underneath his skin. eddie feels as his resolve sparkles and cracks away into the air. he encourages steve to keep kissing him by pulling in his face closer. steve sucks his bottom lip in between his own when his watch beeps.

"wayne's meds," steve whispers.

"old bastard," eddie jokes. "watch a movie with me later?"

steve bites his lip and nods. "i know just the couch."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sugar Cookie

Warnings: non/dubcon, allusions to abuse and neglect, oral sex, manipulation, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You try to learn some new traditions for your first Christmas with Tony.

Character: Tony Stark

Day Eleven of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - experiencing a new festive tradition 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You stare at the floating screen and suck in your cheeks. It's only your first try but you're feeling overwhelmed. Just like always, you can't follow simple directions. You're a fuck up. 

It makes you wonder how you ever ended up here. In this immaculate kitchen with its shining marble counter tops, sparkling appliances, and many gadgets and accessories. Silver pans dangle from the rack hung over the island and knives are stuck to the magnet hold mounted on the wall. Yet you've made a mess of it all as flour dusts over the gold-veined surface and the smell of burnt dough tinges your nostrils. 

"Miss, is appears you've burnt the snickerdoodles," Friday says in her matter-of-fact way. 

"I did," you groan and plant your elbows on the counter, cup your chin in defeat. "I'm sorry." 

"You don't need to apologise to me," she assures. "You should start again at step one. 'Preheat the oven to 375 Farenheit...' 

"The oven's still on, you drone as you turn your face down. "I've ruined it all. I tried so hard but it's just all spoiled." 

"Miss, you can try again. I've already ordered more ingredients so that you can make everything," she insists. 

You puff. That dang computer. Of course, Tony insists that isn't what she is. She's a companion. She's more than code and she's a lot smarter than you, so you should listen. 

You push yourself up as you stick your lip out pathetically. You've never baked before. Tony knows this but it's a tradition. Not your tradition. You never even celebrated Christmas before. You watched it on the old VHS'. The films about daughters or sons or lovers trying to make it home for the holiday. Stuck between four walls, you always just assumed it was another fantasy. 

"Miss, you should dump the burnt cookies. They are not fit for consumption. And put a fresh sheet of parchment paper down." 

You nod and do as she says. Your hands are still fettered in the oven gloves as you take the tray and carry it to the bin. She opens it and you wince. You're still not used to that. 

You return to the counter and pull off the thick gloves. You tear off a new sheet of parchment and lay it on the pan. A frown tugs at your cheeks until they hurt. What if you can't do this? What if you disappoint Tony? He'd just be another person who you let down. There may not be many of those, but you can count everyone you've known on one hand. 

"Begin with the topping," Friday directs you. "Combine the granulated sugar and cinnamon together in a small bowl..." 

It's easier to let her tell you what to do. Almost like she's thinking for you. Tony does that too. He tells you what needs to be done so you're not so worried. Sometimes though, it's too much. All those expectations. Before, you were only ever expected to be quiet. 

You make three lines of four. The dough balls are perfectly arranged. Now you just need to not mess them up. 

"I would be happy to set a timer, miss." Friday offers. 

"Thanks," you say over your shoulder as you slide the pan into the oven. 

"You've made enough dough for three more batches. In the meantime, you could begin on the fruitcake," she suggests. 

"Uh, sure," you agree. 

"Mmm, smells like a fire," Tony's voice jars you before the companion-programmed interface can give her next command. "What're we workin' on, beautiful?" 

You face him and press your sweaty palms to the red apron with the frill edging. "Cookies. Or cake--" 

"There are a dozen snickerdoodles cooking with eleven minutes and thirty-one seconds left," Friday supplies. "And she was about to begin the fruitcake." 

You cringe and nod, "what she said." 

"What about the meringues? Peppermint? Just like I said?" He asks. 

"Sure, uh," you gulp, "you know, Mr. Stark, Tony... I'm not very good at this." 

"You'll get better, beautiful. Besides, it's tradition." 

"Y-yeah, I know, but I... I don't want to screw up or make you sick." 

"Baby, you're just fine. I know you can do it." He steps closer and puts his hands on your arms, "I see what no one else saw in you, huh? You got potential, you just gotta try." 

"I am. Trying, sir," you say. 

"I know, beautiful," he reaches to tap the end of your nose. "Don't be so mopey, alright? Look at all you got; a gorgeous kitchen, a gorgeous house, a gorgeous man..." 

You flick your lashes shyly and look away. He leans in and you let him kiss you. That's getting easier, even if the other things still hurt. 

"You know, there's nothing else I could ask for," he purrs as he draws back, "well, maybe one thing. Whiskey?" 

He looks at you with his deep brown eyes and that crooked grin. It was that look that comforted you the day you met. When the red and gold receded and revealed the very human man beneath. The first man you knew that didn't loathe you outright. 

"Yes, Tony," you answer and spin around. The liquor cabinet opens as you approach. You thank Friday and take out the dark bottle. A cupboard opens and you pull out a glass to pour. You bring the drink to him and smile nervously. "Here you are." 

"You know, seeing as this is your first Christmas and all, you're learning all my traditions," he leans a hand on the counter and sniffs the whiskey before he sips. You watch him tentatively, "we could start a few new ones." 

"New?" You echo curiously. 

He winks and takes another swig, "yeah, all this sweetness," he looks around at the cluttered ingredients, "I'm thinking something even sweeter."  

"Oh?" You bring your hands together and wring them. "What's that?" 

"Friday, scram," he looms close to you and sets his glass down.  

"Reconfiguring to standby," Friday responds promptly. 

He steps up and frames your hips with his hands. He sucks his teeth as he looks you up and down. You shiver as you're reminded of the night before. 

"How about you hop up here?" He keeps one hand on you as he sweeps aside the bag of flower and canister of baking powder with his other. "And feed me another kinda dessert." 

You look at him. You think you know what he means but you’re not sure. You’ll be embarrassed if you’re right. The last time he tried that you couldn’t stay still. 

“Oh,” you bat your lashes. 

“Oh,” he repeats coyly as he squeezes your hip. “You’re doing all this work, baby, why don’t you let me do some?” 

“Um, later... er, the cookies--” 

“I got a hankering for something better than cookies,” he grabs at your skirt and shoves his hands under the hem. He gropes your ass suddenly as he pulls you flush to him. You squeal in surprise. “What are these?” He pinches the fabric of your panties. “I didn’t pull these out.” 

“Uh, I...” you gulp. You didn’t think he’d be unhappy, you can see through every pair he gave you. “I’m sorry.” 

“Take ‘em off,” his voice deepens as he lets you go and steps back. He crosses his arms as his lips straighten to a dire expression. “Now.” 

“Yes, sir,” you blanch and open, your thumbs catching on your skirt before you can get the panties down. 

You teeter as you shove them to your knees and they fall to your feet. You bend to untangle them and stand. Tony takes them from you and flings them without looking. 

“Now, baby, I’m ready for the full course,” He takes you by the waist and turns your back to the counter. “You gonna serve it up to me?” 

You stare at him, speechless. His thumbs curl into your stomach then ease. He trails his hands to your hips and you yelp as he lifts you. You land on the counter and knock over a bowl as you slap your palms on the marble. 

“Tony!” You squeal. 

He hushes you as he raises the apron and your dress up your thighs, “open up for me, beautiful.” 

“Please, can’t we wait--” 

“I’ve been waiting,” he growls and bends before you can stop him. Not that you would even try. 

He grazes your thigh with his lips and his facial hair tickles you. You quiver as he nuzzles along the crease of your leg and against your pelvis. You tense as he grips your knees, holding them wide as he shoves his mouth against your cunt. 

You cry out again. You spasm as his tongue glides between your lips. His flicks around your clit and you whine. It’s so sensitive you could explode. 

You grasp the back of his head and try to push him away, “it’s still too much--” 

He hums and keeps going, ignoring your protests as he suckles on your bud. The pressure is enough to make you buck. You lean back on your arm and hiss. He puts his hand over yours and presses it to his skull, as if to make you urge him on. 

He wiggles his head as he eats you up unabashedly. He snarls and groans and laps. You whimper and shake, your insides consumed in flames. You can hardly stand the heat as he seeps through to your skin. You push your nails into his scalp and murmur his name. 

“Mmm, delicious,” he slithers against your thigh, pressing a wet kiss to your leg. 

You close your eyes as the sight of his head just peeking out beneath the rumpled apron makes you blush. You bite your lip and shudder as he goes back to his eager tending. He clutches your hand tighter as his tongue swirls around and around. 

The smell of smoke tinges your nose again. You sniff and flutter your lashes. You open your eyes and see the silver curls climbing out of the stove. You squeak and try to twist free of Tony. He grabs your thighs and sinks in fingertips in until you ache. 

“Ton-y,” you eke out, “the cook-ies!” 

“Leave em,” He growls as he snakes his hands under your thighs and hooks his arms around them. He yanks you so you fall onto your back, splaying wider as you crush mixing spoons and bags of chocolate chips and sugar. “I got more than enough right here.” 

[abilouwrites]

WHO TELLS A TEENAGE GIRL SHE’D MAKE A PRETTY BRIDE

AND THEN LEAVES WITHOUT WARNING, ON A FRIDAY NIGHT

I’ve never been comfortable with love, rarely found comfort in another person. Except him, cradled in his arms on a Tuesday night. My leg over his, his between mine. My arms around his neck and fingers twisting the green curls in my fingers. He peppers kisses against my chest and collarbone, “I can’t believe we’re about to be second years” I murmur. My breath hot against his skin as his hands slide up my tank top.

“I want to marry you” Izuku whispers, so faint I can barely hear it. In the privacy of my room with my fan blowing the words wish away into nothingness.

“I do too” I agree, a little more firm. A little more existant than his, I lay next to him a happiness of just existing next to him. Of being with him, a hopefulness of the future.

Oh how quickly that was ripped away from me. A startling Saturday morning, knocks on doors. Shouts from downstairs. Letters taped to doors, each one. Even mine. Scribbled handwriting and some stains through the ink. I stare at it as I ride the elevator down. Baggy sleep shorts and one of his shirts I took last night after we did our homework together.

Gone, just like that. Like he just disappeared; gone out to nowhere. Izukus excuse to leave me after telling me he loved me. Because he was worried about my safety. Mine and everyone else’s.

“How do you feel y/n?” Momo asks as I stare in silence at my letter. Biting at my lips and picking at my fingers, “y/n?” She repeats my name softly. Passing me a cup of green tea. It shakes in my hand that I grasp for it. Her reflexes catch it from my slippery grasp and she sets it on the table. She sits next to me, a friend from my elementary days. A girl I’ve known my whole life. She wraps an arm around me and holds me to her.

“I don’t understand” I repeat again and again, as if the more I say it the clearer his reason for leaving me will become. Leaving me after I’ve told him how many times I’ve been left. In this same situation, again and again I have loved and love has been ripped away from me, “why would he leave? He’s safest here?” I try to make sense of it. But there is none.

No logic was made in his choice to leave. But he still left, “he told me he loved me” I whisper, “he thought I was asleep but I wasn’t and he told me he loved me. And now he’s gone”

I’m still reeling from this, standing slowly. Iida chastises me but I’m in my own world. One where I need to lay in bed and mope, wail and cry until the hurt leaves my body. Until I don’t want to run out and find him, I’m too tired to keep begging for someone’s love and affection. I don’t have it in me anymore to love. And maybe that sounds selfish but to be gifted a note that says he wants to protect me and the school but still leaves me. Knowing it may hurt me more than death to see him leave.

I close my door, sinking to the ground on shaky legs and sore bones. A lump shoves itself into my throat; I bow my head and I’m overwhelmed by the smell of him. The sweet cinnamon of his cologne. Vomit biles in my throat as I rip the shirt off. A desperate attempt to rid myself of him. A shoving cleanse of everything he’s gifted me.

Tears fall down my face, thick hot tears fall down my cheeks. Bowing at the curve of my lips, snot running down my nose. I’m shirtless crying in my dorm room, wailing and sobbing like some stupid girl but the boy I loved and the boy who told me he wanted to marry me just left me. Left me with no good explanation. God I want to die.

Air doesn’t feel like it’s air, and I can’t breathe. I’m weak as Momo lets herself into my room. Quiet and gently she grabs a shirt from my closet and tugs it over my shoulders.

“Shh. I know y/n just breathe”

I don’t fight her, I don’t fight as she lifts me into my bed. And lays with me, I don’t fight. I don’t have anything to fight. As the tears fall from my face and collect on my pillow, as they stick my eyelashes in clumps. As my nose runs and tears fall into my open mouth.

“He told me he wanted to marry me..” I hiccup against her skin, “and then he left me”

I repeat it again, softer this time. Like the way Izuku said he wanted more, more than just a girlfriend, “he told me he wanted to marry me, and then he left me”

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 2

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,899 of 5,084 Prev | Next

AO3 Link

The Markets of Oz are normally packed during the daytime, ladies coming and going to get groceries and maybe a new dress or two, but they are flooded during the night markets of Lurlinemas. If you have the chance to look without getting swallowed in the waves of the crowd, you can see green lights strung from brick building to brick building (the bricks painted green for lack of renovation funds), newly built stalls in the main square that sold roasted quail for a quarter, and a great Spruce that had been brought in from Winkie Country, its top cresting just past the meager buildings that boxed in the square. Emily tugs me along as I admire the great golden star that was perched atop it, emeralds chiseled into the shape of snowflakes adorning each tip.

"If we move any slower they're going to run out of hot chocolate," she says, pulling me by my elbow.

The hot chocolate in the night market is one of a kind, spiced with warm cinnamon and sweetened to the point that it hurts your teeth. If I could have it year-round, I think I would like that very much, even if I did eventually get sick of it. I follow after her in our immediate quest, trying to shoulder oblivious men and women out of the way.

"How many presents do you need to get?" I ask as we get in line for the cocoa.

Emily pulls her green-gloved hands out of her pocket, silently ticking off her checklist on her fingers. "Six," she says.

I try not to drop my jaw at the idea of such wastefulness. I'm not sure there are six people that I could call friends, much less that I would be willing to spend my wages on for silly presents. In truth, there was one, but she would chastise me if I tried to get her anything. Still, I couldn't help but wish for something to get her.

We order our hot chocolate and sip it as we stroll through the sea, dipping and dodging any particularly rude costume choices. We had stuck to our uniforms, hiding them under the woolen pine-colored peacoats that were standard issue for when we had to lend an extra hand in shoveling off any balconies that got covered in snow during the wintertime. There was no option for us to have extra extra wide-brimmed hats or wired puffy sleeves that were the size of small dogs. Even if we had the option, I don't think that I would have done it on a regular market day, much less in the nights leading up to Lurlinemas.

Emily stops at an ornament seller and takes her time browsing the brilliant sun catchers and rhinestone-encrusted baubles. The glass and “sodering” (I’m sure it’s silver-colored glue) look far too flimsy, so I tell her I'm going to the next booth to look at ribbons and laces. The price of laces haven't gotten any better (in fact they had gone up by 6 cents) but I look at them anyway.

Most clothing could be mended, but there was only so much to be done about laces as they became more and more unraveled. If you had a friend in the mailroom, you could persuade them to let you borrow some rubber cement to stick the frays back together. If you didn't, you had to dip the tips of your laces in the wax of your candle at night. The wax didn't last nearly as long as the cement, usually cracking off within a day or two. I wasn’t friendly with anyone in the mail room, so I had slowly been shortening and dipping my laces until they just barely tied in a regular knot.

My eyes flicked over the shades of olive and forest and moss, until they had reached the box of ribbons. There is a skip in my heart as I remember how the Wizard had tied the ribbon in my hair just days ago. If I close my eyes, I can feel his hands guiding the ribbon up from the nape of my neck and the warmth that radiated from them as he tied the bow in place. If it is true or not, in my mind he has a smile when he looks at me after. I wonder if these ribbons would make him smile like the one I still have in my hair, if they would make him...

I have to look away from the ribbons for a brief moment. The thoughts I had of him since that day have not been pure and kind. They are selfish. I know that they will lead me down a path of trouble if I linger on them. I have my sister to think about and it would not do if I were to lose my job at the palace. I could not save her from the children's home, but they still let me visit her and send her things. I don't send her much, most of it disappears within a few days, but I bring her sweets if I have time to swing by the bakery after I am no longer needed for the day.

Looking back at the ribbons, I can't help but wish I could get one for her. I want her to feel as pretty as I did that day in the Wizard's bedroom. The kids would have a harder time taking the ribbon from her if I braided it into her hair, away from their jealous hands. My eyes flick up to the price card that is held in a coily golden wire stand. 200 cents! It's more than double the price of the laces.

I bite my lip, but my mind is already made up. I look at the shop lady, but she has her back turned attending to the till and adding pennies to it from a green paper sleeve. I snatch a pistachio-colored satin ribbon and shove it into the pocket of my peacoat. Quickly, I slip back out into the crowd of people, heading back to Emily in the ornament booth.

I'm jerked back, my forearm locked in an iron grip as it is hoisted high, so high above my head that I'm afraid my shoulder will dislocate.

"Hey!" I shout.

"There is zero tolerance for stealing in the Emerald City," The man says. I scrape my tiptoes against the ground to get a better look at him and realize that I've been detained by one of the Emerald City's Royal Guards. The green coat with gold trim and accents is unmistakable, accompanied by a sharp green officer's cap.

"I didn't steal," I lie.

He fishes into my coat pocket and pulls out the ribbon that I had stashed in there. "Is that so?" he says. My shoulder burns as he drags me back to the lace and ribbon booth, chucking the spooled-up ribbon back to the shop lady. "Sorry about that, Hazel. Street rat."

I can't help it as the words come flying out of my mouth, “I am not a street rat! I work at the palace!"

"Good," he says. "Then I know where to take you. Lets me get off my shift earlier at least."

He lowers my arm, only to twist it up behind my back, his other gloved hand grabbing hold of the collar of my coat. I shout at Emily, trying to fight against him as he marches us past the ornament booth, but I'm not sure she heard me. She has a confused look on her face as I'm dragged off, but she doesn't do anything to interfere. We may share a bed in this cold weather, but she's never been the type to stick her neck out for anyone, no matter how big or small the injustice. I wouldn't expect her to start with me.

By the time we get to the palace the hand behind my back is numb from the position and the cold air. The shame and fight has long since left my body, my mind trying to focus on how I will provide for my sister and me, or even if I will be allowed to see her again. Do they let criminals into the children's home? Would they even let me stay in the Emerald City? I try to remember what happened to criminals that were detained in the palace. There had been a boy in the kitchen who had been caught with a whole ham hock in his bag when the kitchen staff was closing up one night this past summer. It had been such a scandal -- it was all the staff could talk about for two whole weeks straight -- but in the end, I could not remember what had become of him, only his original crime that had been passed on by those who had been in the kitchen when the joint had been discovered.

We don't go through the main doors, neither the servant's entrance, but rather a side door that I had never seen before. It must have been for guard use only. They crawl the castle like an infestation of ants, so it only seems natural that they, like ants, would have cracks and crevices to aid their coming and going. It's dark, but soon I see that we are in the main entryway. If I can remember correctly, the guards' barracks and offices occupy the left wing from the audience room (convenience for removing unruly guests from the days of King Pastoria, I suppose). Most in the Wizard's personal service have no reason to go there.

The Wizard. There's a sort of heavy disappointment that sits like an oversized and cold jewel on my chest, deep beneath the layers of wool and scarves and uniform. It's not the disappointment that a child might feel under the disapproving eye of a parent, no. It is something entirely unfamiliar: an anger at myself that I might never see him again, that my last impression on him will be one of a thief. But wasn't that what I was? I had stolen the ribbon, no intention of paying.

The guard marches me up through the darkened emerald halls, passing the large pillars, the walls carved with their sharp geometric designs. I take in the sight of all of it knowing that it will be my last time seeing any of it. We're crossing the audience room, the heart of the entire palace, and nearly to the other side when I see him.

He's in a deep green almost black suit. The lapels of the jacket are peaked giving him the appearance of being even taller than he already is. He's talking to a stocky man, at least two heads shorter than him and twice as wide, wearing the uniform of the palace guards with a few additional golden cords strung over his chest that my jailer doesn't have.

I try walking faster, dragging the guard who had my arm pinned behind my back. I don't want him to see me like this. Better to just have all of my stuff gathered and thrown out the back door with me than to disgrace myself even further.

"Uh…Guard," a voice calls. I know it's his. I hate that I know that it's his.

My captor stops in his tracks, spinning us around to address the two men. "Captain," he says, giving a nod to the shorter man.

The Wizard has a confused if not irritated look on his face. I can tell that I've made him upset. How poorly must this reflect on the palace if members of his staff are getting arrested in the street? He says, "Are you going somewhere?"

The guard looks to the stocky man who gives him a subtle nod of the head. "Street rat," my captor says. "I caught her stealing in the market. I'm taking her to booking and calling the head of staff for the palace. She said she works here."

"Well, yeah," the Wizard says. "I can see that. Anyone can see that." He approaches me and pinches the thick wool of one of my coat lapels in between his thumb and forefinger. I try not to look too hard at the gold ring on his thumb as he drags it back and forth lazily against the material, stroking it as if to assess the warmth of the garment. "She's wearing a palace coat. Initials on it and everything."

My captor seems tongue-tied by this, I can hear his mouth open, a gasp for air as if to say something but nothing comes out. I dare to look up and see that the Wizard has his eyes locked on him. The way he's looking at him with those amber eyes reminds me of grade school, when we learned about the flora and fauna of Oz in biology. When talking of tigers, our teacher had told us that if you could see their eyes through the grass it was already too late. You had been stalked for hours before even noticing and they never got close enough for you to notice until you couldn't get away even if you tried. Foolishly, he tries, saying, "I need to take her to booking. She is a stain on the image of the palace."

The wizard drops my lapel and walks back to the officer that is now resting his hand on the pommel of his sword. It makes me nervous, but I'm not sure for who. Would they execute me right here in the audience chamber? I wouldn't be the first. The Wizard bends down and whispers something to the officer. I watch his eyes tick back and forth as he processes the secret.

"Guard," the officer says, "Leave her to me. I am sure you are wanted back in the square. Where there is one thief there is sure to be more."

I can't see his face, but I know that my captor is annoyed. He'd been hoping to clock out early and now he had to walk all the way back down to the market square. That brings a smile to my face as I hear the hesitant click of his boots and feel all the blood start rushing back into my arm as he lets me go.

We stand there, the three of us, until we hear the loud echo of the door shutting. The short man salutes the Wizard and makes his exit. The smile drops from my face as I realize what little law and witnesses there were had just walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the tiger.

"Stealing?" he says, cocking his head to the side. Immediately, he sets to pacing around me.

"It was just a ribbon, Your Wonderfulness," I say. My shoes have become infinitely more interesting to me, noticing the way even the stitching of the leather to the soles was starting to fray near the toes.

He laughs and it is quiet and deep, sending a prickling from my shoulders down my spine. "Did you like the first one that much? You could have asked for another."

"It wasn't for me," I say.

I can feel him tug on the braids that wrap my head. I had woven the ribbon into them earlier today. There hadn't been a day where I hadn't worn his ribbon since I got it. It was risky, and eventually Emily or someone else would catch on, but I didn't want to leave it in my nightstand and come back to find it missing, pilfered by someone's sticky fingers. So I had woven it into my hair where no one could take it, where the Wizard was now tracing its crooked and dashed path against my scalp.

"You are a terrible liar, missy" he says. "What are we going to do with you?"

Let me go? Kick me out of the palace? In truth, I wanted things to just go back to the way they were, no ribbon, no staff suspicions, just me and my chores and the shared bed with Emily. My voice quavers as I feel his finger stray from the twisted path of the ribbon, wandering onto the pulse of my bare neck, stopping underneath the corner of my jaw. "I won't do it again," I choke out.

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," he says. "But you can't be trusted. To have a thief in my staff... well, it would just cause too many problems. First ribbons, next other things..." He completes his circle around me and I find myself facing him again.

"Are you going to kill me?" I ask.

He smiles, revealing to me a flash of hungry white teeth. Too late. He says, "Do you want me to?"

I shake my head, my lips stitched together in case any wrong words should fall from them.

"Such a fascinating creature," he says, perhaps to me or perhaps to himself. "I'll deal with you tomorrow. Why don't you go upstairs and get some rest? I have... things to arrange."

He leaves me there in the audience chamber, shaking. If you see them, it is too late. I am standing there, head still on my shoulders, and yet I know that I haven't escaped. If you see them, it is too late.

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: the final holiday fic! i always love doing a svech family moment and this was beyond fun to write 🥰 and with that, i’ll be quiet on the fic front since i’m a little wiped out lmao. thank you guys for always being so awesome and have a fabulous holiday!! 🤍

word count: 2.2k

tw: domestic fluff

summary: getting all five kids to work together on one project always makes for a memorable afternoon

Andrei drops the grocery bags on the counter, ruffling the recipe printouts with the little gust of air. “I think this is last of it,” he says, frowning as he digs through the bags.

You look up from the notepad you’re scribbling a list on and poke your pen into one of the handles to tug it down. “Oh, good, you got the regular honey Teddy Grahams. The last time we made these, I accidentally bought cinnamon and I thought Al was going to stab me,” you say dryly.

“We don’t want that,” Andrei laughs and kisses the top of your head. He starts unpacking the bags, lining all the ingredients up on the counter. You tick each item off your list as it appears, sighing in relief when everything is marked off.

“Okay, we’ve got all the ingredients for all the cookies,” you sigh, looking up at your husband. “Remind me again why I thought a baking day with all five kids was a good idea?”

Andrei grins and puts two cartons of eggs into the fridge. “Because you’re the best mom,” he replies. “And you want all the babies happy.”

“I’m not a baby!” Dimitri comes stomping into the kitchen. “I’m six!”

He’s wearing a miniature helmet and carrying a mini stick, whacking at the baseboards as he goes. You pin him with a glare, because he knows he’s only allowed to hit the foam pucks or balls with the stick and only in the basement. He looks a little sheepish and holds the stick behind his back.

Andrei leans down to pinch his cheek. “We know you are not a baby, Dimka,” he says, trying to hide his laugh.

“But you’re our baby, always,” you finish. “Evie’s still our baby, even though she’s twelve.”

“Evie’s too bossy to be a baby,” Dimitri grumbles, rushing at Andrei’s legs. Andrei jumps out of the way, laughing, and catches the boy around the waist to pretend fight him. Childish giggles fill the room as they go, knocking into the counters and chairs.

The commotion attracts the rest of your kids and they appear in the kitchen one by one. Alina and Kira appear together, your youngest daughter’s face covered in glitter for some inexplicable reason. You’re not in the mood to question it, but you do wince at the trail of glitter that she leaves in her wake. Alina immediately jumps into the chaos with Andrei and Dimitri, giggling as she distracts Andrei for Dimitri to get a few good whacks in at his legs.

“Mom,” Kira climbs up onto your lap, getting glitter everywhere. “Can I get my letter to Santa back? I wanna add something.”

You internally cringe. It’s a week before Christmas and you finally had the kids send off their letters to Santa a few days ago because he “needs time to make the presents!” and you need time to make sure you got the stuff that was most important off their lists.

A last minute change up could throw a wrench in your carefully plotted and executed plans.

“We sent off the letters, baby,” you remind her, brushing glitter from her eyebrows. “What did you want to add?”

“Oh,” she shrugs and hops off your lap, “I’ll just tell Canes and he’ll tell Santa.”

She disappears into the mess of husband and kids, which now includes Maks, who snuck in at some point when you were talking to Kira.

You try and muffle a groan with your hand. If Kira tells her latest gift wish to Canes - the Elf on a Shelf named for both your husband’s hockey team and candy canes, you’re actually pretty impressed with Evie and Alina for coming up with that one - you’re screwed since the hunk of plastic and stuffing obviously can’t speak.

Somehow, you’re going to have to figure out what’s going on in your middle kid’s brain. You’ll get Andrei and Evie on the case too.

Speaking of, your oldest wanders into the kitchen. She’s tying an apron around her waist, looking at you seriously. “Mom,” she plants her hands on the kitchen table and leans in, “we need to get baking! If we’re going to make cookie boxes for everyone, we’re already behind.”

Your little taskmaster.

You smile at her and tuck a strand of dark blonde hair back into her braid. “Bunny, Dad just got home from the grocery store. We’re going to get started any minute.”

“They don’t look like they’re ready to start,” Evie side-eyes her dad and siblings, frowning.

“They’ll fall in line,” you promise, standing up and tugging at her braid. “Let’s get everything set up in stations, okay? That’ll help.”

Evie doesn’t look like she quite believes you, but she attaches herself to your side and sorts the ingredients by recipe, using all the counter space and the island. When she and Alina had first decided they wanted to do cookies boxes for all of your friends and family, you’d been hesitant to add another heavy lift to your holiday to-do list. Especially when each kid - and Andrei - had insisted on picking their favorite cookie for the box, making it a little more complicated to coordinate at least six different recipes.

Evie had requested gingerbread, the soft kind not the hard kind because the hard kind is gross.

Alina was all in on the most tedious of “cookies” to put together - puff pastry with chocolate and a Teddy Graham made to look like the little bear shaped cookie was sleeping. Your most chaotic child with the most involved project.

You’d had to talk Kira out of the peanut butter cookies she insisted on - reminding her of the peanut allergies that some of your friends’ kids had. She’d compromised on sugar cookies rolled and shaped to look like candy canes.

The boys were easier. Maks insisted on chocolate chip cookies with “lots and lots of chcocolate” and Dimitri wanted the almond snowball cookies you’d made a few times before because he liked how much the powedered sugar puffed out when you accidentally exhaled when eating them.

Andrei had grinned at you as the kids listed out their cookie requests and you’d pinned him with a glare, murmuring, “if you pick something difficult, I’ll never let you in my pants again, I swear to god.”

He’d taken pity on you and picked a relatively simple lemon ginger cookie that you could make in your sleep.

Now, Evie commandeers the kitchen, pointing each of her siblings to a job. They fall in line relatively quickly and without complaint, but you’re sure they’ll get tired soon enough and rebel. For now, you tell Alexa to play a Christmas song mix and get the kids dancing as they help.

Andrei presses a kiss to your cheek, murmuring, “is it normal if I am afraid of our daughter?”

You giggle, Evie really is terrifying when she gets her mind set on something. She plants her hands on her hips and tells Maks he’s pouring the chocolate chips wrong and you have to swoop in before he starts to cry.

“Yes,” you agree quietly. “Totally normal because I am too.”

You pass Maks off to Andrei and your husband swings the five-year-old up onto his shoulders to keep him out from underfoot. He laughs and immediately grabs onto Andrei’s hair, “Dad! It’s like Remy, I’m Remy and you’re Lin-linweenie!”

A laugh bubbles out of your chest at Maks’s mispronunciation. Andrei grins at you and reaches up to tickle Maks’s side. He agrees with your youngest child and goes along with the game, listening as Maks directs him on what to do and correcting every time Maks gives him the wrong direction. You take a few minutes to really appreciate the way Andrei’s back and shoulder muscles move as he works.

He winks at you when he catches you watching.

You work with Dimitri on the snowball cookies, choking briefly on the cloud of powdered sugar he accidentally unleashes from the bag.

“Sorry, Mommy!” he yelps, looking concerned.

“I’m okay, baby,” you choke out, ruffling his hair while you cough into your shoulder. The cloud of sugar hangs slightly in the air and you know it’s going to settle into every crevice of the kitchen.

That’s a problem for a later time.

The girls manage to work together on their dough with minimal drama - of course you get the whine that Evie is bossy and Alina is messy and Kira is getting sprinkles everywhere even though there’s no sprinkles in the recipe. But for the most part, they’re working together nicely, which makes your mom heart really proud.

Like you predicted, they scatter to the wind after a few hours. Alina is the first to go, disappearing with a skip and a grin. Kira follows next, dragging Dimitri with her.

Maks is slumped over Andrei’s head, little hands on Andrei’s cheeks, and you know he has to be getting tired of holding the baby on his shoulders. But Andrei doesn’t say anything, continuing his job of scooping cookie dough out onto the baking sheets while telling Maks some kind of story. It’s really adorable.

Eventually Maks complains and wants to be let down, so Andrei swings him over his head. “There you go, Maks,” he says, ruffling the boy’s hair.

Maks slaps Andrei’s hand in a high-five, which is his latest move when saying hello or goodbye, and runs off into the den, screaming about wanting to watch Remy. The fact that he’s so obsessed with Ratatoille is cute, but you wish it had been a better movie for him to want to watch over and over.

“Dad and I can handle the rest, Eve,” you say to your last child standing. She’s carefully placing the gingerbread cookies an equal distance apart on the baking trays, tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth.

Andrei scoops a bit of raw cookie dough from the bowl and pops it in his mouth. “Yeah, zaychik, now is boring part. Putting trays in and out of oven,” he says, eyeing you in a way you know means he wants some alone time after the chaos of the last few hours with the kids.

“Promise you won’t let them burn?” She turns to face you both. “And you’ll call me when we can decorate?”

“Yes and yes,” you promise, kissing her forehead and brushing a smudge of flour from her cheek. “Go, have fun. Dad and I will handle it. You did such a great job keeping the troops in order.”

She beams at the praise and unties her apron, tossing it over a chair. “I’m going to make cards for all the boxes, okay?” Evie darts off before you can answer and then suddenly, the kitchen is quiet. Your ears are ringing slightly, but you can feel your shoulders relax.

It must show on your face, your relief at the quiet, because Andrei chuckles and opens his arms for you to step into a hug. You bury your face into his chest and inhale the mix of vanilla extract and cologne that’s seeped into his henley.

“I love them,” Andrei chuckles, voice vibrating through your chest. “But they are very loud.”

“Mhm,” you hum in agreement, lifting your face to rest your chin on his chest and look up at him. “But they’re really cute too, right, Linweenie?”

Andrei grins wider, showing off his dimples. “Very cute,” he replies, craning his neck to kiss you quickly.

You hum into the kiss, grinning when Andrei’s hands slip to your ass, squeezing. “You taste like chocolate,” you mumble against his mouth. “Sneaking all that dough is going to make you sick.”

“But who will make sure cookies are good enough for everyone?” Andrei asks cheekily, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Oh, so you’re quality control?” You tease, pulling away from his embrace so you can start loading the trays into the pre-heated ovens.

Andrei scratches at the few days’ growth of stubble on his face and hands you another tray. “Is a risk I’m willing to take,” he says, tone full of faux modesty.

“Our hero,” you joke back, stepping into his personal space again and reaching up to play with the buttons at the top of his henley. “Meanwhile, Kiry mentioned wanting to add something to her letter to Santa, but wouldn’t tell me what. She’s going to tell

Canes.”

Andrei rolls his eyes at the name of the Elf, the whole concept strange and silly to him. But he goes along with it for the kids’ sake.

“I need you to be stealth and figure out what it is,” you continue. “If it’s something small, we make it happen and keep the magic of Santa alive for a little bit longer for her.”

Your husband nods, eyes twinkling in a way that tells you he’s going to go above and beyond to make Kira’s list addition happen, no matter what it is. He’s always gone above and beyond to be the best dad and husband, making magic for your kids every day.

You love him all the more for it.

“Daddy!” Kira’s shout echos through the kitchen. “Come play mini sticks, Alina quit cause she’s losing.”

“Am not!” Alina shrieks.

You laugh and scratch your nails through his stubble. “Go, play mini sticks. I’ve got this,” you tell him.

His kisses you quickly again before jogging off to the den, calling out, “Dad versus kids!”

Their chatter starts almost immediately and you lean against the counter, Christmas music playing and the scent of gingerbread in the air, tired but so in love with your husband and kids.

[neoplatinum]

cinnamoroll girl | kim 'winter' minjeong

summary: you meet a girl obsessed with cinnamoroll

pairing: minjeong x reader

themes: fluff, just two very cute girls, cinnamoroll, yizhou & aeri!, mention of jimin!

wc: 1.7k

"aeri, stop." you pull the covers back up your face. curling into yourself in bed. you already feel awful, so why is she bothering you right now?

"you are such a mood killer! she dumped you six months ago, get up!" aeri tugs the comforter so hard she falls on her butt. you laugh at her until you realize how cold you are without the blanket. so you rush forward to try to grasp it out of her hand.

"aeri! give it back!" you shout at her.

"no! please come outside with us. we're all so worried about you." aeri pulls the comforter harder, and you let go. aeri once again hits the ground again. you hear a loud thud and see her soothing her head.

"that's what you get." you stick your tongue out at aeri, to which she throws the comforter right back in your face. you get sent backwards, falling into bed.

"ning! i'm done with her, she's hopeless!" you hear aeri shrill. yizhou walks in, eyes wide at aeri on the floor. but she ignores the girl, walking towards the bed and trying to coax you out.

"sweetie, it's not healthy to stay in bed all day. come join us outside!" out of spite for aeri, you comply immediately. getting up with a playful smile as you watch aeri's shocked face. aeri walks out annoyed while you get ready for a night out.

"ning, i'm going to strangle that girl." you hear faintly in the hallways.

you join the two girls outside, eyes smiling at yizhou while aeri punches your shoulder.

"you are so annoying, why are you only nice to ningning?"

"because." and you leave it at that, walking out of the apartment.

--

"aeri, who's that?" you point at the girl with the short bob. her eyes are wide as she tries the claw game; it looks like she's trying to get a cinnamon roll plush.

"that is ning's friend, be nice. we invited her out too." aeri explains, but all you can see is the love of your life. hot hot biker jacket girl with a short bob and a handsome face. lips to die for and long, long, long legs. wow, she is exactly your type.

"ning! you didn't tell me you had such a hot friend." you don't take your eyes off the girl, just speaking loud enough for yizhou to hear.

"i did, i told you multiple times about minjeong. you have just been so 'woe is me' about your heartbreak that you never met her." yizhou continues, eyes rolling when she sees you eyeing minjeong like a puppy seeing their owner.

"god you are so gay, not even an hour ago, you were moping about jimin." aeri starts shaking a hand in front of you, and you finally snap out of your daze.

"shh, don't speak of her please." you shush aeri, and pull the two girl's arms. you need to meet minjeong quick. so you approach the girl at the claw machine.

"hi!" you enthusiastically say to the unsuspecting girl. the girl gives you a once over and a look. before pointing at your shoes.

"your shoelace is untied." she points out, and you look down. sure enough your right shoe is untied.

"oh, um. yeah sorry." you kneel down to tie your shoe, meanwhile aeri and yizhou are snickering at each other. you attempt another introduction.

"hi, you are minjeong?"she tilts her head, and you swoon, it's really like looking at a maltese.

"yes." she says and returns to her claw machine. both yizhou and aeri let out a boisterous laugh. leaving to go "get food", which really means they're going to watch you try to flirt with minjeong from afar.

"do you like cinnamoroll?" you watch as her eyes light up, suddenly she's stopped looking through her pockets for more coins.

"yes! he's my favorite sanrio character." she exclaims, taking out her phone to show you a photo of her cinnamoroll collection. they have nearly taken up the whole wall of her bedroom. it's adorable actually, how dedicated she is to this sanrio character because of how cute it is.

"that's so cute." you point out.

"yeah but i'm having trouble getting this cinnamoroll." minjeong points at her claw machine. "i've been here for ten minutes, but i've had no luck."

"maybe i could try?" you offer. digging through your jean pockets for coins. you start shoving coins into the machine. flexing your hands and stretching your neck. getting ready to get this cinnamoroll plush for this cute girl.

you go for the first try, lining it up in the front, and lining up the clawe by checking the side glass. tongue in between your teeth as you focus. dropping the claw...it grabs one and you can hear minjeong gasp. as it rises up, it releases the cinnamoroll. dropping it back onto the pile.

you aren't going to let that stop you from winning this plushie for minjeong though.

you get another try, aiming for a different cinnamoroll, same method. checking the front, and checking the side for position, dropping the claw and crossing your fingers, begging for the claw to give you the plush. and with bated breath it drops into the dispenser corner.

"yes!" you shout, high fiving minjeong who gives you tight hug after, leaving you breathless with a rapid heart beat. goodness, this girl's got you good.

aeri and yizhou return with hot dog and drinks in hand. watching minjeong get absorbed in the cinnamoroll doll that you just won for her. minjeong hands it back to you.

"it's for you." you say, and push the doll back into her hands. she smiles widely at that, tucking it into her bag and the other two girls give each other a knowing look. you four enjoy the rest of the arcade, all the while you're busying eyeing minjeong and you think she is just so darn cute.

--

"can i have minjeong's number?" you ask aeri. she's popping popcorn in her mouth as you both watch spiderverse.

"ask her yourself." aeri doesn't take her eyes off the movie.

"when would i be able to do that?" you ask.

"tomorrow, she's coming over." aeri continues digging through her bowl of popcorn.

"tomorrow? aeri our apartment looks like a mess right now!" you get up and start picking up all the random clothes and pieces of trash littered around the living room. you start running into your room like a sprinter. grabbing all the dirty clothes off your floor, and shoving them into a laundry basket. you run out and throw all the clothes into the washer, immediately pressing buttons to start the wash cycle.

then you're wiping down the kitchen counters, the dining table, the windows. you wipe down the coffee table and lift aeri's legs to wipe it completely.

"aeri move!" you shout at her. she rolls her eyes but lets you clean around the couch. then she's back to sitting down. you start cleaning the many dishes in the sink and placing them in dryer rack.

"maybe i should say minjeong is coming every week for you to do these chores." you roll your eyes but honestly yeah this is a great motivator. then you start cleaning the bathroom and washing the shower. (aeri is confused why you're washing the shower because minjeong is definitely not staying over)

you finally clean your bedsheets and comforter after your laundry load, excited to have minjeong over. then you start pestering aeri again.

"what does minjeong like to eat? snacks? drinks? favorite food?" you start, opening your notes app to diligently write down each answer. aeri shakes her head at you.

"and do your job for you? no way, ask her yourself. it's more genuine that way." she answers as she pauses the movie, getting up to watch you run around like a headless chicken.

"fine. be like that. just so you know, i ate your lunch last week." you stick your tongue out at her before hiding in your room.

"you come back out here!" aeri shouts. you tune her out, smelling yourself: yeah you need to shower. while aeri pounds at your door, you're busy gathering yourself for a long and definitely needed shower.

--

"hi minjeong!" you bump aeri out of the way, to greet minjeong first. the girl looks so adorable in a blue button up and light washed jean shorts.

you think she looks like how the first spring day feels. warm and inviting. she walks in with a small smile, a little timid visiting you and aeri.

"hello, thank you for winning that cinnamoroll plush for me." she says as she gifts you two some wine.

"oh no problem, anything for a pretty girl." you say to her. aeri's gagging just at the sound. then minjeong walks in with yizhou trailing behind her.

it's a full house, when you all sit at the dinner table, enjoying a delicious dinner filled with laughter and bad gossip about people. you get to really feel the energy of minjeong, a rather reserved girl to people she doesn't know well, but gets very comfortable around people she knows well.

yizhou is doubling over in laughter, and nearly spilling her wine all over the floor, while hitting aeri. minjeong just laughs and points at them two. you laugh at the sight of them three, it's like dumb, dumber, and dumbest.

aeri and yizhou are knocked out on the couch after laughing too much. you take the time to help clean up around the apartment, putting away leftovers. meanwhile minjeong offers to help wash dishes, not letting you say no.

so you and her are quietly cleaning the apartment while the two other girls take a much-needed rest after their drinking.

you walk behind the kitchen counter, and you start drying dishes that minjeong has washed.

"hey minjeong."

"yeah?"

"could i have your number?" you ask, very nervous and feeling the jitters in your body.

"yeah, only because you won me that plushie." she looks at you and smiles. you don't stop smiling the rest of the night, even if aeri kicks you when she wakes up.

--

a/n: my original minjeong work got deleted :((((, but it's okay i didn't love the plot for it. so here we are with this piece instead. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[vivalas-vega]

mistletoe / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

hey hi hello !!! if you couldn't tell by my previous post, it's my favorite time of the year... which means fics to go along with it! this is just the beginning, from now until new years my fics are going to be very centered on the holiday season so if you have any requests pls send them my way! this one is very short, but sweet and fluffy to kick things off :)

mistletoe / jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 1.3k

warnings: none really, slight suggestiveness at the end

Frank Sinatra was crooning from the record player on the console to your left… perched next to it was a still-steaming mug of hot chocolate done up a mile high with whipped cream and a cinnamon stick barely poking out of the top. There was glitter from the ornaments dusting the floor and unbeknownst to you, a rogue piece of tinsel woven into your hair as you perfectly placed each bauble on the tree before you. You were so lost in your own Christmassy world humming along to Let It Snow and narrowing your eyes at your work to make sure it was just right that you didn’t even hear the front door open and close, or hear Jake chuckling at you as he snuck up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I think it’s a little too early for this, darlin’, the Halloween decorations have barely been put away,” he said into your ear as you squeaked in surprise, squirming in his grasp to turn around and hit his chest.

“I know your mama taught you it’s rude to sneak up on people,” you chastised and he just smirked down at you. “Besides, it’s never too early for a bit of Christmas joy.”

“Far be it from me to rob you of your joy,” he said, backing away and holding his hands up in surrender as he looked over the place. You’d had the day off while he was gone at work and you really didn’t waste a second of it. The tree was nearly done, all of the pillows and blankets on the couch had been swapped out for more festive options, and garland was strewn across the mantle. He was always in awe of you and your ability to bring magic to any space… when he’d arrived home from work at the end of August he’d actually been startled by a rather gruesome statue greeting him on the front porch and the fake spiderwebs he’d managed to walk through… you hadn’t accounted for his height when putting it up, only yours. Even throughout the normal periods of the year your home exuded warmth and a little something special that was just you.

“It’s perfect timing, really… I need your help with something,” you said and he looked at you expectantly, eager to oblige whatever request you had for him. He watched as you ruffled through the various shopping bags, and he decided it was probably for the best that he just not look at the bank statements this month, before you produced several bundles of glittery snowflakes and thrust them in his direction. “I wanted to hang these from the ceiling, I thought it might be pretty.”

“I think it will be wonderful, sweetheart,” he said, setting them aside for a moment as he looked you over properly. You were wearing a red slip dress adorned with lace complete with fuzzy reindeer socks on your feet that were in stark contrast to the silk clinging to your body but somehow they made you look all the more sexy to him as he settled his hands on his waist and pulled you in, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips but you leaned back and put a finger on his lips to stop him, giggling at the look of confusion that passed over his features.

“Excuse me, sir… I don’t see any mistletoe, do you?” you asked, looking above you and he let out a sigh at your antics. “I’m a lady and I can’t go around kissing just anybody. There are rules, you know.” 

“I didn’t realize I was just anybody, darlin,” he replied, digging his fingers into your hips and pulling you flush against him but you weren’t having it, you wiggled free from his grasp and turned your back on him, returning to draping tinsel along the branches of the tree and trying to suppress your giggles.

“Find the mistletoe and you’ll get your kiss,” was all you said and he muttered something under his breath that you didn’t quite catch as he began stringing the snowflakes up, taking great care to space them evenly and hang them at varying heights… something he knew to be sure to do after the great debacle of Halloween when he didn’t hang the bats to your standards. He watched you out of the corner of his eye… still humming along to the Christmas record you’d inherited from your mom as you stepped back to admire your work. It really was beautiful, and he wasn’t just biased because you had done it. You had managed to keep it nostalgic without looking tacky, modern without lacking warmth and he couldn’t help but smile at the satisfied look on your face.

You stood on your tiptoes, struggling to reach the top and place the star atop the tree and Jake chuckled as he quickly reached your side and took over for you, fiddling with it until it was straight and you leaned into him as you admired your handiwork, “I’ve always loved Christmas but ever since you came along I can’t seem to get enough of it.” you said, recalling the first Christmas you’d spent together on his family’s farm. You’d been welcomed with such open arms, and experienced a true small-town holiday season for the first time in your life and it solidified that this was without a doubt your favorite time of year.

“I was just thinking the same thing, sweetheart,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple before you moved to clear away all the bags and boxes, leaving behind a pristine and festive living room. You leaned against the archway leading to the kitchen, watching as he secured the last snowflake to the ceiling as you made sure to position yourself just right… legs on full display and that mischievous smirk on your face that Jake couldn’t get enough of. It was something you had picked up from him, and he always loved seeing the little ways in which you two would mirror each other. “What are you up to over there?” he asked, eyeing you suspiciously and you shrugged.

“Oh, me?” you replied, “nothing.” You truly looked irresistible to him right now… lace delicately framing the curve of your chest and the tops of your thighs, all done up in red with that sparkle in your eye as you settled all of your focus on him, walking across the room as if being pulled to you by a magnet. 

“Is there a reason you’re glued to this doorway?” he asked, resting his hands on your waist as you allowed your eyes to dart upwards, just for a moment, and that’s when he saw it… the mistletoe. “You little minx,” he teased, leaning closer and your head tilted back instinctively. You had specifically chosen the area the two of you passed through the most often to place the mistletoe and that cheekiness was one of the reasons he’d fallen so head over heels in love with you. He closed the gap and captured your lips in a dizzying kiss, tightening his grip around you when you leaned into him. You moaned softly into his mouth when he deepened the kiss but were left wanting when he pulled away suddenly.

“You know, I am a gentleman… just because there’s mistletoe that doesn’t mean I can-” he’d started, wanting to get back at you for your earlier stunt but you just rolled your eyes as you jumped up, wrapping your legs around him. You never had a second thought jumping into his arms so suddenly, you knew deep in your bones he’d never let you fall.

“Oh shut up and take me to bed,” you said and just like the snowflakes he was more than eager to oblige your request, reconnecting your lips as he maneuvered down the hallway, hands gripping your thighs as you melted into him. 

“Oh my god, Christmas threw up in here too.”

taglist: @callsignspirit @thegodessc @failuretothrivestuff @olliepig @cruelmissdior @underaveragefangirl @grxcieluvr @amatswimming @camilaricci @nolita-fairytale @dempy @pinkpantheris @aviatorobsessed @tiredqueen73 @pono-pura-vida @binnieslove @nik2blog @waklman @abaker74 @halstead-severide-fan @percysaidnever @memeorydotcom @eli2447 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @toobouquet @a-v-a123 (if your name is struck through it means I couldn't tag you - so sorry!)

[frenchie-sottises]

Back at it With the Punch Out Headcanons.

It's been a long while since I've done any Punch Out Headcanons, and combined with the fact that I looked through my old posts and may or may not have cringed a little, I'm gonna add some more headcanons and update some current ones. (Mostly cause they were made out of little information I had at the time.)

Also, just throwing up a warning real quick as some of these headcanons do mention some heavier topics like familial abuse and childhood neglect for some of these boxers. However, they don't go into detail.

Glass Joe:

I called him a cinnamon roll last time, and that still holds true, but I didn't realize how sassy this man was. Telling you you're bad for his health, making it clear he's coming for you by pointing at you like you just committed a crime, this mfer has some spunk for having a hundred losses to a single victory. He's still extremely chill, but he's not above throwing hands if necessary.. even if he might lose.

100% the type of person to make baked goods for someone if they're down or it's their birthday. Part of the reason why he likes taking his friends to lunch.

Even though the WVBA doesn't seem to have an age limit, especially apparent with boxers like Gabby and Hoy, he's still not looking forward to the day he must retire. He enjoys boxing, it's why he's still kicking despite losing so much, and he hates the idea he won't be in the ring anymore.

Tumblr has broken his humor.

Von Kaiser:

Was exposed to so much propaganda as a kid that he makes a point to learn all sides of the story purely out of spite.

His dad was in the military, so respect was almost literally beaten into this man's head as he grew up. However, despite the trauma, he doesn't believe in his father's tactics, so he chose to turn his boxing career into a place where he can teach other kids the proper way to become respectable adults without the trauma he was put through.

Has a difficult time expressing his feelings, but will eventually give in if it's someone he's close to or with enough coaxing. However, the quickest way to gain his trust and help him open up is to respect his space. His expressions make it pretty clear what he wants.

Kinda has to be dragged to make any sort of online presence. He only has a Facebook and a Tumblr. It would've been strictly Facebook had Joe not encourage him to make a Tumblr. (The site has also broken his humor.)

Disco Kid:

Has 100% wore your typical 80s disco fashion. There's a reason why he's called "Disco Kid." His grandparents were big disco dancers, which eventually got passed down to him. Rollerskating's pretty much paired up with that, so he breaks it down.

Is quite an oddball when it comes to being a boxer. With his history, you'd think he'd just stick with being a dancer, but he's never liked the idea of his passion being his profession. He likes the freedom in his dancing, so it's staying as a hobby. Of course, you need money for hobbies, you saw his car, so he took up boxing when he saw a poster for a WVBA match. He may not be the best, but he loves boxing enough to want to incorporate it with his dancing.

Has made it a mission to learn every instrument there is! He loves his disco stuff, but he has a general love for music. Old, new, fancy, simple, it doesn't matter. If it exists, he wants to learn it.

Is one of the more tech savvy boxers of the group. There's a chat in the Discord server that is solely for memes cause he wouldn't stop posting them in general. ("I've been kicked for posting memes in general. Help-") May or may not be part of the reason Joe's and Von's humors are broken.

King Hippo:

He may be royalty, but he's one of the most humbled beings you'll ever meet. He's definitely an acts of service kind of guy, so he's holding doors open for people, giving people food, using his money to help the citizens on his island, his mother raised him well.

Has personally fought and chased Airbnb off of his island after they tried their greedy bullshit. They already cause people in other places problems, he'd be damned if they're welcomed on his island! (It was televised too, so his appearance alone made even Sandman shake in his boots.)

You're not gonna believe this, but.. Hippo can speak English. He can speak it really well, actually. His iconic way of speaking originally started for show, but became his main way of talking, but English was his first language, so, on the few occasions where he needs to actually talk, he surprises everyone in the room with it.

Has experience in architecture. Safe to say it's one of his biggest passions, and he uses it often to help his citizens because why be a king if you just sit on your ass all day when you can help your people instead? He sneers at most kings he's heard about.

Piston Hondo:

He's such a snarky lil shit in the ring, it's almost comical. He does it on purpose just to cause problems. He's fine outside the ring, but the boxers can tell when he's out to cause problems when his moves his eyebrows more than he normally should.

Second to Tiger when it comes to being a clean freak. He sneezes at the littlest things, so he has air filters and humidifiers all over his home. It's helped quite a bit! If he's in a room where it's dirty, he immediately goes into cleaning mode, outfit and all.

His love for drawing and art still holds true. He gets easily inspired, so he always has a sketchbook on him. He eventually picked up digital drawing, feeling unsure at first, but his determination led him to discover how much he loved it! He now makes a point to learn different forms of art, having made a room in his home dedicated to all things art.

Sneaks up on people too easily. He doesn't even do it on purpose most of the time, he's just very light on his feet. Not even the lightest sleeper can hear him moving around when it's three in the morning. 100% mastered this to raid the fridge, there's no way you're this quiet without picking it up somewhere.

Bear Hugger:

Got his knowledge and love for nature from his dad. He fully understands and accepts nature in all her beauty and ugliness. This also means that anything you'd want to know about nature, he's your go-to. He isn't one to sugarcoat things, so any information you wish to know is to be done at your own discretion. (Is also one of Casual Geographic's biggest fans as he keeps it straightforward while also having master word play.)

May or may not have his DNA altered via a were..bear bite. Yeah, who knew his sparring partner was a mythical being? He paid no mind till he started noticing the typical changes found in such a transformation. His speed and strength led to him breaking his tools by accident fairly often, and his sharpened senses overwhelmed him a few times, but he's adjusted to this and uses these abilities to his advantage, especially in hunting. He's thought about possibly climbing the ranks while he still has the time, but is still unsure as he doesn't mind where he currently sits.

Will fight and has fought people who litter without a second thought. The forest he lives in used to be covered in trash, which he spent weeks cleaning, so he takes massive offense to those who don't bother to throw away their trash. If the person purposely does it after being warned? Only God can save you, cause he's thrown people's whole selves into trashcans. (His werebear abilities make this easier to do.)

Was originally gonna be a massage therapist before attending one of his mother's boxing matches. He has always been good with his hands, so he went all the way and gained his license for it. Of course, he prefers boxing, but he hasn't let his license expire, so he still holds the therapist title!

Great Tiger:

Number one clean freak out of everyone in the WVBA. No one knows where he got it. He doesn't even have health issues that require it like Hondo does, but he feels the need to keep his house clean. This also, by extension, means he keeps himself extremely clean. It's not to insufferable levels like with Don, but he always has a light scent of lavender on him. If he was in a dirty room, or a dirty home, you're gonna see about thirty clones all dressed up and cleaning the place.

If the light shines on him just right, his eyes almost look like they're made of liquid gold. He gets a lot of compliments on his eyes, it's ridiculous. It's either the eyes, or the mustache, which, he won't deny, his mustache is pretty fabulous. He loves the compliments, but he does get a bit overwhelmed if they get too much.

Has a deep love for mythology. It doesn't matter where it's from, he reads and learns all he can about it. He's one of the few boxers who suspects Bear Hugger might've had something happen to him due to the subtle changes he's picked up. He's also dressed up as a vampire on a few occasions just for funsies.

He doesn't want to admit it, but whenever he wears a sash belt, the extra bit behaves like a cat's tail. He tries to control it, but it's apparent when he's irritated, it flicks around just like that of a cat. The only thing it doesn't do is lift straight up, which is something that happens when a cat is happy to see you, but it does curl at the end.

Don Flamenco:

For being as cocky as he is, if he feels like he's in the wrong in any way, he's apologizing FAST. He can't imagine ever hurting someone, even if it's unintentional. He also struggles to not cry as he admits he was wrong, but, dammit, he can't help it.

Absolutely adores games that encourage creativity like Sims and Minecraft. He's always looking forward to designing houses and gardens in these games, using any and all tricks he knows to bring extra pizazz to them. It's even better when Carmen's around to join in. His favorite of the bunch is probably Sims 4. Animal Crossing is a close second. (And you know, damn well, that they got the fanciest, gothic houses in the games.)

Don't ever assume Don performs actual bullfighting, cause this man will not let you hear the end of why he's against it. He's one of cultural heritage, but bullfighting is a disgrace in his eyes and looks forward to the day it's illegal across the country. He'd rather fight the bull with his bare hands in a test of strength than ever bring out a weapon.

Doesn't realize how much his perfume bothers people. He loves the smell of perfume, especially anything floral because of course this dude loves his flowers. He gets fussed at a lot for it, so it's a miracle Mac wasn't fazed by it.

Aran Ryan:

His parents are both terrible. The father pretty much drank his life away while the mother ran away. Because of this, Aran was forced to grow up and fend for not only himself, but also for his little sister, Arabella. It's mostly the explanation for his unhinged and masochist-like behavior. Most people don't fuck with crazy.

Despite his rough background, he was able to get help from neighbors, who all silently agreed to take turns watching the two cause American foster systems tend to not fair much better. He worked at several jobs once he was sixteen. He's worked anything from cashier work to yard work and even some automotive work. He wasn't able to finish school, he dropped out as soon as he started working, but eventually got his GED once he took up boxing and got a steady income to help keep Arabella in school.

Does not give a fuck about what people say about him, but will be on the verge of wailing on someone if they dare trash talk his sister. Soda's had to hold him back a few times cause he'll halt the match to fight whoever said some bs, he doesn't play. Luckily, for everyone involved, anyone with a sane enough mind will not dare cross that line.

Thanks to the WVBA and the neighbors, this is the craziest he'll ever get. Outside the ring, he's pretty much one of the most chilled boxers you'll meet. The most he does is pranks, which all go for annoying the people he targets. You can take the Irish man out of the chaos, but you'll never take the chaos out of the Irish man.

Soda Popinski:

Number one cat magnet. He can't explain it, nor is he trying, but cats love him. He can literally just sit on a bench in a random spot, and it wouldn't even take two minutes before a cat comes out of the wild for some pets. He was even once bombarded with a whole bundle of kittens when he saw one on the side of the road one day. He took them all home, named them, and takes great care of them. Tiger seethes with jealousy.

His calm nature is the Yin to Aran's chaotic Yang. He was one of the first boxers to greet Aran when he first joined, and lent an ear to all the stuff Aran was going through and had to get off his chest. After that, the two pretty much became best friends. He's even helped babysit Arabella a few times if no one else was around to help. It's a bromance at this point. Only Soda can calm Aran down if something, or someone, severely pisses the Irish man off.

Has an immune system of steel. Not even diseases like Covid can faze this man. People suspect it's the soda, but it actually lies in the fact that Soda's technically a genetic experiment gone undetected. Someone messed up the shots and his mother got the shot the Russian government was using to make super soldiers. No one knows about it.

No one has successfully hid from this man, his sixth sense for sniffing out bullshit is insane. Don was sent to get drinks, but came back claiming the store was closed, but Soda pointed out the shirt he left with had tiny flowers, but the one he was wearing currently is only dots. Then Disco came in late for his training sessions, claiming he caught the train, but Soda told him that there's a road that avoids it altogether and questioned why he didn't just take that route. It's almost annoying for the other boxers how quickly he puts them on the spot.

Bald Bull:

Mother died when he was only ten, so the rest of his childhood was handled by his shitty father. Despite being the oldest of three, his father gave his younger brother the ranch due to his disapproval of Bull taking up boxing. He kept what his mother said in mind: to follow his dreams, so he did. He's tried to keep contact with his siblings, but they cut contact with him despite knowing their father is in the wrong. He's understandably bitter about it.

When he has himself a me day, he dresses up in his biker gear and drives his saddlebag bike with the ape hangers. (Ape hangers are high sitting handlebars that encourage upright posture.) His helmet conceals his identity, so no one knows it's him driving around and having fun. He became a rebel/biker as a way to break free from his father's control, so it's forever a part of him. He's also outrun the cops on several occasions. They still haven't caught him!

When it's a good day, he's got that extra bit of shithead energy about him. Doesn't even care if he gets his ass beat by Sandman, when he feels good, he's taunting EVERYBODY. His favorite method of taunting is taking the heaviest dumbbell available and lifting it while cocking an eyebrow and grin while the person is down. Heaviest he's done is 260lbs. He's aiming for higher.

His love for Turkish delights came from his mother making them every weekend after dinner. They hold a special place in his heart, using the same recipe his mother wrote for him, along with several other of her recipes, to keep ever since he took up cooking classes. Will burn someone's house down if something ever happens to that little booklet.

Super Macho Man:

Pissing off people is his specialty. Even when he's not really trying, he'll say something extremely dumb that encourages one of the other World Circuit boxers, usually Sandman, sometimes Bull, to come and beat his ass. He's either oblivious, or he's secretly a masochist, cause this happens a lot.

Takes the BIGGEST offense when someone doesn't recognize him. He thinks he's super famous, and there's some truth in that, but you'll always have people who don't keep up with celebrity drama, so his dramatic self gets salty when the person claims to not recognize him. "Well, I thought I was more popular than that!"

Despite being a dick most of the time, he has his silly moments. People compare him to Randy Savage, they're being generous, so he'll go out of his way to quote him with the voice and everything. He's nothing like the guy other than name, but he does find it endearing and will happily give his fans free meme material. He even quotes memes made of Randy, even the breathing one. He almost passed out.

Loves musicals. He was a huge theatre kid, so he's really good at playing assigned parts and has an extremely good singing voice. (Disco may or may not be slightly jealous.) Absolutely got hooked on musicals like Hamilton, The Count of Monte Cristo, and even the Heathers! Doesn't care he's a buff dude, let him wear the costumes and play those leading roles!

Mr. Sandman:

BIG momma's boy. His mother basically raised him on her own, making sure her boy never lost his way once he got out there. He's grateful for having such a loving mother, and he often gifts her a good chunk of his paycheck so she can treat herself nicely. Not much is known about what happened to the father, but he was a former boxer.

Had dreadlocks at one point in time. Took amazing care of them, even sometimes decorating them with golden braid clips. When they fully matured, they made him look like a lion. He was super proud of them and was upset that they got in the way when he decided to take up boxing. He tried to tie them up in a ponytail, but some of the matches he had got heated, and it led to some of his locks getting ripped out. He plans to regrow them once he enters retirement.

Quietly thanks Mac for taking the belt from him that day. He aimed to be the best, not because of his insecurities, but because he wanted to ensure he could provide for his mom. He thought claiming the belt was it, so when Mac took it, he got the much needed kick in the ass to realize that he doesn't need to be perfect to help out. He's already top dog, so he's already reached that goal.

He tries hard to be stoic, but he can't help but chuckle at some of the shenanigans that occur with the other boxers. Aran smacking Bull's head really hard and getting decked for it? He snickered. Soda constantly putting people on the spot? He smirks at it. Macho almost passing out from doing that one Randy meme? That took some self control, especially when all he heard was Macho falling on his back with a loud "THUD" when he had his head turned.

Extra:

Carmen:

At first glance, she seems incredibly tame, but she's feisty! If someone angers her enough, she'll straight up rip a nearby door off its hinges and beating them with it. Hell, when she's really happy about something, there's a chance she'll kick the door on the wrong side and rip it off the hinges. She's had to replace the doors around the house a few times due to this, and Don finds it hilarious.

Pastel goth type. She was a pink hater for a long while, but the color grew on her. She's also incorporated other pastel colors into her wardrobe. May or may not also have Monster High stuff that she wears as well.

Works as a hairdresser. She colors and styles her hair often, and it's done so well that her girlfriends got her to do their hair. Some of them eventually suggested to her to pick up hairdressing as a profession, which she decided to give a shot and winded up loving it. She's even helped Don with coloring his hair a few times cause he tends to make a mess when he does it.

Cannot sing to save her own life. She was long ashamed of it too, but Don truly doesn't care whether or not she can sing. Due to this, she slowly regained the confidence to sing her heart out again. Anyone who judges or dares to wish for her to shut up will be met with a very angry Don.

Arabella:

She can do no wrong. No, seriously, she's far too sweet to even attempt the kind of bs Aran pulls on a regular basis. Unfortunately, this also means she's gotten bullied a few times as other kids think she's an easy target, especially considering she's chunky and is likely on the spectrum. When Aran had to try and teach her to defend herself, she questioned why she couldn't be friends with them instead.

People make jokes Joe is the baby of the WVBA, because, y'know, his record, but it's really Arabella. Literally everyone has adopted her. If she ever needs help with anything, there's always someone around to help her. Homework? Hondo, Soda, and even Macho can all help. Friendship advice? Disco is literally the extrovert. If she gets bullied? Well, God help the school board cause everybody's showing up. It's hard to not spoil her cause she's such a good kid.

There's a good chance she could be an engineer when she grows up. She comes up with the most creative, and sometimes simple, ways to solve an issue. Her and Aran had to use bunk beds for a while, but nobody really told them how to properly bunk the beds, so Arabella dug into the closet and grabbed a couple of hangers that they could break and use. Surprisingly, they worked really well. Aran's pride shows when he tells this story.

She loves to color in her free time. She has a whole drawer's worth of coloring books and coloring supplies. When she's done, she often gifts the boxers her work, which is also often themed based on what she thinks fits them. They cherish her work, often framing it and hanging it around their apartments. Some of her work is even on display around the gym they train at. She mostly uses crayons and coloring pencils, but she's been learning to use markers as well. She loves the alcohol markers.

[charliemwrites]

I’ve been thinking about “mean” (okay no they’re mean) characters.

Specifically, I’m thinking about Rook “Duke” Alistair being best friends with Actual Assassin and meanest bastard around, Velikan.

They’ve known each other since her early days back in the Air Force. Maybe Duke, freshly nicknamed and bright-eyed, got caught up in some sort of ambush with a shiny new unit.

And maybe Velikan was going to kill her as collateral, but for reasons not even he knows, he didn’t.

And now he’s got this duckling (she’s even blond and fluffy like one) that’s practically imprinted on him. Every time they cross paths (and they keep crossing paths for some fucking reason) she lights up and waves, babbling updates about her life. She doesn’t mind his gruff tone or his short temper, or the absolute mauling she receives when he finally acquiesces to spar her.

It’s not that she doesn’t know he’s an assassin. Oblivious as she can be, she’s not stupid. Just the opposite, in fact. She recognizes that approaching him at any point is like sticking a hand in a tiger cage. And yet she still does it, even when they’re out in the field.

How she’s not dead yet, for pure annoyance alone, he’s not sure. But he figures that she’s spent so much time being an inconvenience to him specifically that he’s earned the right to put an end to her.

And then he’s not sure how she isn’t dead from natural selection.

“I thought you were military,” he hisses, brushing dirt off her shirt and pants. Why is he doing so? Because he’s annoyed that she slipped on pile of wet leaves.

“I am!”

“You have no discipline, no coordination, and no sense of self preservation.”

She beams. “I think that last thing is something they encourage, actually.”

He stuffs her into a good hideout and tells her to stay while he takes care of their his tail.

It’s not just the slipping, tripping, and falling. If anything would make him believe in luck, it’s Duke having the worst of it. Falling objects and loose floorboards, changes in a guard rotation or a light coming on at the worst moment. She’s smart and quick enough to watch out for herself, but only just.

Maybe he lets her live out of pure bafflement. Morbid fascination with someone so smart and yet so—

“Stupid,” he growls, dunking her head in the rain barrel.

She comes up sputtering, but giggling. “This isn’t how you’re supposed to treat acid exposure.”

He dunks her under again for good measure. She shakes off on him like a dog afterwards and he genuinely tries to strangle her. But then she gets her sharp little teeth in his arm and bites, proceeds to inform him that he’s going to need antibiotics with a bloody smile.

Is he going to personally bring about her violent, gory end? Yes.

Is she also his best friend? Somehow.

“Do you think cinnamon floss or mint floss is better for improvised stitches?”

“I think you should just bleed out.”

“It’s not for me, dummy…. Yet.”

He’s not relieved when she gets the position with the CIA, but something close to it.

They hire him for their dirty work often enough that he sees her regularly. Her ridiculous, cluttered desk and her grotesque stash of snacks and her constant rotation of injuries because they still let her near machinery.

“You stink,” he scoffs, lifting her right out of her chair as she squeals. “You are taking a shower.”

And because she has the attention span of a fly, he goes in with her. She fusses when he gets soap in her mouth or eyes, but he just tuts that it wouldn’t happen if she were capable of doing it herself. And dignity? Long forgotten as he scrubs her down from head to toe, pinching when she complains about being babied.

“Do not act like a child, then,” he gruffs, throwing a towel in her face.

Honestly, Laswell should be ashamed.

“When was the last time you ate?” He demands, squishing her cheeks with a little shake. “Eh? When was the last time you had something other than blue candy?”

“‘S raspberry.”

“Are raspberries blue? No. They teach this in school. All that sugar has rotted out your little brain.”

It turns out the answer to his food question was “too long.” He trades her potatoes for carrots, but only after holding her nose closed until he could force peas in her stubborn mouth.

Ridiculous, really.

[wsknbfanaccnt]

Happy Birthday Akashi 2024

A birthday drabble for my beloved husband. Love you Sei <3

"It's Yukimaru's birthday tomorrow..." Akashi pondered, sitting on the bed of his Rakuzan dorm. He took a sharp sigh, immediately standing up and packing his things. Just for a little overnight stay.

Oats, applesauce, wheat flour, cinnamon, molasses, and of course carrots for a carrot cake. He thanked his Mother for teaching him how to cook, putting the treat in the oven as he wiped his forehead. Baking was quite tiring in itself, he concluded.

His horse neighed happily with his presence. A quick ride was much needed for the both of them, galloping off into the edges of the Akashi property. The wind through his hair, the rhythm of his hooves. A perfect day.

Even more so, as the redhead did love to spoil his horse. Grooming, massages, cleaning, polishing; he did everything. All the while telling stories of his adventures as a high school student to his horsey.

It ended with a small cake and a thin stick of carrot as a candle. Hiragana of "Yukimaru" written in yogurt. Akashi hadn't even been done singing the birthday song when the white horse devoured the said treat from the plate... but all worth it as he nuzzled his nose against his owner's chest. The latter took a deep breath, smiling softly.

"Happy birthday, Yukimaru."

"Sei-chan, it's not only Yukimaru's birthday today, yknow," Akashi whipped his head around, seeing the people he loved the most. The Rakuzan and Teiko team.

And Reo holding a cake of his own, "Akashi Seijuro" written with icing.

"This was so hard to plan ssu...! We had to get in contact with your butler and arranged time for you and-"

"Shut up Kise, nanodayo."

"Happy Birthday, Akashi-kun," Kuroko stepped forward, rolling out a mat on the grass.

"Let's sit down already, I want to eat cake... You don't mind if I have a bigger slice, do you Aka-chin~?"

"Akashi!! I got you a present!!" Hayama almost shoved a box at the redhead's face. The face that looked stunned. He had no idea that his friends arranged something like this... well, as is the point of a surprise party after all. Akashi hadn't even recalled that today was his special day too.

"Oh yes... it is my birthday today as well, I suppose." he said, his lips curling into a smile.

Remembering his worries of losing his friends back in middle school... the thought seemed so silly now.

I've gained wonderful friends... don't you think, Mother?

.

.

.

.

.

Tags (join my taglist!):

@chosenimagines @souls-heart @padmsanakin @japeneselunchtimerush

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 30 Tengu

Tengu are a type of legendary creature found in Shinto belief. They are considered a type of yōkai or Shinto kami.

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija @mspurpl3

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

"Y/n-chaaaaan.~"

You heard the thunder bird Harpy boy before you saw him. You were just outside in the garden gathering up some delicious ripe tomatoes before you went off again to go and gather some more fruit from the wild fruit tree grove however you had gotten an unsuspecting surprised visitor. You first heard him from the loud flaps of his massive wings but also because you heard him call your name. 

It was a nice day. Quiet when you stepped out of your home with your basket in your hands and walked barefoot in the soft grass until you stopped by the garden and smiled at the shiny ripe tomatoes. Gently picking them off the long vines one after one until those loud wingbeats were heard.

"Y/N-CHAAANN!~"

You blinked before looking up-

CRASH!!

Before jumping as a loud crash next to you sounded out. You snapped around wide eyed in time to see a giant yellow blur skid across the ground before rolling head over heels over and over again before with a second crash noise the rolling mass collided with the side of your house and collapsed in a heap.

"Oh my goodness. Zenitsu!" Dropping everything you quickly ran over to the groaning mass of yellow and feathers. Pushing one giant yellow wing sticking up to the side before kneeling down to pat the boy's cheeks. "Zenitsu, are you alright?!"

Said boy shook his head before blinking up and then immediately gaining a love struck face. "Y/n-chan! Oh I knew you'd come see if I was alright!"

"Of course. You tore up some of my yard during your landing." You turned back to look at your poor yard and sighed seeing the misplaced lumps of grass torn up from his crash landing. "How many times do I have to tell you to be careful?"

"Of course! I wouldn't want my Y/n-chan to worry about me!"

"Let's just get you to stand up." You helped him stand back up with a grunt and a few flaps of his wings. A quick look over confirmed that he wasn't hurt but you helped pull the loose feathers from them anyways. "You kids NEED to be more careful. Humans will see you easily if you're not careful. That's the whole point of staying HIDDEN."

"*sigh* I know. I know."

"Then please be more careful next time. Now, what brings you all the way here?"

He turned to you with a smile. "Gramps heard about you giving Tanjiro some pies and wanted some too! You have any left?"

Oh! It's about the pies.

You smiled brightly at him and nodded. "Sure do. I thought you guys might want some so I saved you all a few butterscotch cinnamon and apple pie. I even have a peach cobbler just for Kaigaku. Come on. I'll get it for you."

Gently you grabbed him by the arm to lead him inside and again his face lit up a head. "I'm sure anything you made will taste heavenly cuz you're a real angel!~" 

"Let's just see if the others like it too."

[celestemona]

Waitwait, I have a question—what are the dynamics/tropes of the genshin mamas and papas? And if so, do they have special nicknames or pet names with each other? The kind that only you and the other person has...

(Personally I kinda see mama reader and al haitam (idk how to spell his name, shoot me dead I guess) are those very serious, very sticks with their job people that you really don't know if they're married, but the moment they leave the akademia—the moment they leave for the day! His small little smile! The way they would try to hold each other's hands or slowly intertwine with each other.

I also see mama reader and kaveh being that couple that's like, "I LOVE MY WIFE!!! " and mama reader is like, "... kaveh, darling, stop embarrassing me" but they like it shhh) mmmm the thoughts are getting to me.

THAT'S ABSOLUTELY THEM 😭😭

Let me tell you a fun fact about Kaveh's & his wife's relationship: he had to work a lot to court her. Mama reader took an interest in him on their very first meeting. However, she didn't accept his feelings entirely until he paid all his debts. Something about “how will I know you're serious about us when you can't even put your life back on track?”. Harsh words yes, but that worked to enlighten Kaveh's goals.

That's how serious (and whipped) he is about his wife.

Alhaitham' & his wife' dynamic were perfectly described here. When they're at work they put their focus entirely on it. Sometimes you can find her in his office so they can have lunch or a cup of tea together. But only when they leave for they day you see a slight intimate & affectionate side of him towards his wife.

Kazuha' & his wife's dynamic is the calm, gentle, and tired one but helpless in love with his excited, flirty & funny wife's persona. Not a chaotic dumbass way, though. Just a very exciting way. My girl is just madly in love with her husband and adores her children very much! They prefer to be intimate indoors, but they’re not afraid to show some pda too.

I'd describe Cyno' and Mama reader' relationship as looks like a cinnamon but can kill you (her) x looks like can kill you but sometimes is a cinnamon but can kill you too (him). Cyno has that grumpy face that scares most of Sumeru's citizens but all his defenses are put down when his wife shows or gives him some affection. And when he gives her some pda you can see flowers twirling around her. In general, I'd say they are that typical couple which one doesn't need to speak for the other know they’re being heard. They work pretty good together!

I'd say the trope of Neuvi and his wife would be that classy, fancy & untouchable couple. Mama reader has a more laid-back personality tho. Being a merchant, she sometimes displays seductive and manipulative traits but this only works with other people. Neuvillette knows very well how to deal with her and she loves him for it. They're very affectionate with each other indoors.

Not completely biased but Wriothesley has a dynamic similar to Kaveh's with his wife. He had to dig deep to reach her heart so now he's enjoying his happy married life as a reward for all those years she had played hard to get. Don't get me wrong, they were always into each other but their lives weren't easy. Anyways. In their dynamic, there's a lot of teasing, sometimes some pda & flirting (this one mostly comes from reader).

And finally we've our dear Lyney who'd steal the stars and the moon from skies if his wife asked him to do so. At the beginning of their relationship, they clearly presented a shy, blushy & whipped (him) x friendly, teasing & flirty (her) trope. But as they got to know each other and the relationship grew stronger, I'd say they settled into a sweet & calm dynamic. Sometimes Lyney can't help but show his extreme enthusiasm toward his wife and she can't help but be his reason for breathing hahah They've a very lovey-dovey dynamic.

[authorautumnbanks]

One Night (21)

The amusement park is packed, but Shippo appears to be doing okay with the noise. Granted, she got him some earplugs and Koushi some headphones. Kagome pulls the small blanket until it is up to Koushi's chest. He looks out of the stroller window. She has his baby carrier just in case he wants a better view of everything going on. Koushi is pretty inquisitive.

"Sensei!" the students yell.

Kagome stops and looks over her shoulder. Why are their faces so red? Did something happen?

"My bad," Satoru sighs, removing his hand.

Oh.

Satoru is always touching her. Always squeezing her ass or resting his hand on her lower back. Satoru huffs and then places his hand on her lower back.

She ducks her head and smiles. Her insides are gooey like a cinnamon roll. Being with Satoru is a little like that. Warm. Soft. And when she takes him into her mouth, he tastes—Kagome gives herself a mental shake. Not the place.

"I want to ride on that!" Shippo says from his place on Satoru's shoulders. Kagome follows where Shippo is pointing and then shakes her head. "Papa! Let's go!"

"Nope, you gotta stick to the ride for kids." Not that Shippo would be hurt or affected by the larger rides, but he is supposed to be six, and six-year-olds do not ride the biggest roller coaster in the park. Or maybe they do. Doesn't matter, Shippo is small and wouldn't pass the height requirement.

"But..."

"Sorry, bud. We'll head to the kid's section. There are a lot of games you can play." Satoru looks over his shoulder. "You guys are free to do your own thing, and we can meet up for dinner. Unless you want to ride the smaller rides."

"We'll meet up," Yaga says, rubbing the back of his head. Next to him, Panda's large dark brown eyes have yet to blink. He is as tall as Yaga in the human form, Shippo gave him. His hair is black with white streaks.

"Megumi," Shippo coos.

"No."

"Big brother," Shippo sing songs. "You know you want to stay with the family."

Kagome sighs. "Shippo, Megumi wants to hang out with his friends. Come on, or you won't have time for any of the rides." She flashes a smile at Megumi, who looks so relieved. The students follow them for a bit and then break off into their own groups. Once it is just them, Satoru stops.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Why wouldn't she be okay? Kagome tilts her head. "Yeah?"

"You can't get on any of the rides, and I'll need to go with Shippo." Even with the shades on, she can tell he is looking at her stomach.

She exhales. "I haven't taken a test." Not that any test would be more accurate than Sesshomaru, but still, it does not feel real. After trying for so long, getting pregnant so easily is hard for her to wrap her mind around.

"I believe in Sesshomaru."

"You believe in Sesshomaru," she chortles. "You barely know him."

"Seemed like an okay guy," Satoru says with a smile.

"He lives up to the whole killing perfection name," Shippo quips.

"I'm still alive," Kagome points out.

"What?" Satoru snatches his shades off and hangs them from his hoodie. "What do you mean by that?"

Whoops. She needs to change the subject. Last thing she needs is for Satoru to pick a fight with Sesshomaru the next time they go back to visit. She did promise to get some winter clothing for Sango's family. Kagome flutters her eyelashes and strokes his arm. "My mom and Syouma want to take the boys shopping over the weekend."

"... This weekend?" Satoru bites his lip. "We'll be in the house by then. Like the whole day?"

"A couple of hours." She mirrors him, biting her lip as well while heat builds in her gut. Satoru isn't wearing anything crazy, but for some reason, the black hoodie and jeans are driving her crazy.

"Papa! I want to go on a ride." Shippo huffs.

"Sorry, sorry." Satoru laughs. "Let's get moving. Now you don't have to ride every single one. We can always come back. Plus, I don't like leaving your mom alone for long. There's always something lurking around the corner." Satoru glances over to the left. Kagome frowns.

"I can put a barrier up while we wait if it'll make you feel better." In the stroller, she's got a shikigami disguised as a toy in case she needs any extra support, though she doubts it.

Satoru nods, but he's still looking to the left. "Yeah, you should do that."

"Are we going after them?" Shippo asks, taking his shades off.

"Nah, they haven't tried anything." Satoru flashes her a smile as he hands Kagome his and Shippo's shades for safe keeping. "I think there are some rides we can all get on, like a tour or something." He rubs her back and when he pulls away so he and Shippo can get in line, Kagome's heart pangs. Oh dear, she is falling for him.

Koushi looks up at her and stretches his arms out.

"Oh, did you want to watch Daddy and Shippo?" Kagome coos as she takes Koushi out of the stroller. She balances Koushi with one arm and pulls out her phone to record. "You see Daddy?" She holds the phone up. Koushi laughs and then fusses. "Oh no, buddy. You stay right here. Don't even think about it." Kagome squints her eyes at Koushi and tries to look stern, but he just giggles and Kagome's stern demeanor cracks faster than an egg. "I'm serious. You stay right here with me, or you'll give mommy and daddy a scare."

Koushi yawns.

Figures.

He threw a fit earlier when Shippo declared he was going with Satoru instead of shopping with her. Kagome presses her lips into a thin line. At this rate, Satoru will have to come with if she wants the boys to do anything. She lowers her phone and stops recording right as Satoru and Shippo head over to them.

"I want to go on another one!" Shippo says, jumping up and down. "And I want to win some prizes, too." He stops and then points a finger at a game. "I gotta get something for my brother and Mama."

"Well, let's go win some prizes, yeah!" Satoru fist pumps the air. Shippo mimics him. Koushi clenches his fist and Kagome bites down on her tongue to stop from laughing. They end up winning more prizes than what can fit in the bottom of Koushi's stroller. "What is Shippo doing?" Satoru asks.

Kagome hums. "He's always been partial to human girls," she admits. With an arm full of prizes, Shippo talks animatedly with some young girl with brown hair. He gives her an oversized stuffed bear and laughs at something she says. Shippo hands over another prize.

"... He's far too young for that," Satoru exclaims. "Oi! Shippo, come on. We gotta meet the others for dinner, save some for them!" Satoru raises a brow. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she says, turning her head away. "Did you want to take a bath with me when—"

"Yes. Fu—mmm yes."

"Papa, seriously?" Shippo rolls his eyes. "I left one gift for Megumi. Can I have cake for dinner?" Shippo waves goodbye to the brown-haired girl. Her parents shake their heads and usher her away. "Please?" Shippo widens his eyes.

Kagome gives Shippo an Are you serious right now expression and turns the stroller around. "No one is having cake before dinner." She looks at Satoru, who throws his hands up in front of him. Uh-huh, Satoru was planning on getting sweets first, for sure.

"Shippo and I are gonna step out for a bit once we meet up with the others."

"Everything good?"

"It will be."

Got it. He's going to put some fear in whoever is on his radar. When they get to the restaurant, Satoru kisses the top of Kagome's head and then Koushi's.

"Where is Gojo-sensei going?" Yuji asks, pulling out a seat across from her.

"Oh, there's someone being weird, so I think he's gonna talk to them or kill them." She shrugs one shoulder while she cradles Koushi in her arms and looks over the menu. "He and Shippo will be back soon. Shippo will be upset if he misses the show." Kagome motions to the stage on the right. The tickets were pricey, but Satoru insisted they get front-row seating to the stage.

Yuji scratches his head.

Was it something she said? Kagome frowns. Why is everyone looking at her like that? Aren't they sorcerers like Satoru? She does not get what the big deal is.

"What's wrong?"

"You're so nonchalant about it," Nobara says.

"Oh... well, we've already had to deal with one assassin since the news of Koushi spread." She glances back at the menu. Satoru will probably want that. If they aren't back in time, she'll just order for them. Shippo will want everything. "Chances are they'll back down, though."

"We should do something for sensei," Yuta says after a moment. "He took care of everyone's missions so we can enjoy this night out." The table grumbles, but the students eventually agree to put something together. Only Megumi watches Kagome, so she flashes him a small smile.

Satoru did not take on everyone's missions, but Kagome is not going to correct the student's line of thinking, nor is she going to bring attention to how many shikigami she can make.

"Uh... Kagome-san?" Yuji starts. "What does sensei like?"

Kagome stares blankly. What does Satoru like? "He likes sweets, and he loves when the boys show off...is there anything you guys have been working on that you could show him?"

"My energy can be sloppy," Yuta says, leaning forward. "But I've been working on it."

"Put something together like the exchange event," Yaga says after a moment. "It would be good for everyone."

"Is everyone participating, minus Gojo-sensei?"

Yaga frowns. "Naturally, Satoru should not partake. It will be a celebration of sorts."

Kagome looks down at Koushi and smiles. She isn't quite sure what the others are planning on, but it sounds like some kind of event for Satoru to watch.

"Could Shippo participate?" Yuta asks. "Or would that be too much for him? He is young, but he's so strong." Yuta motions to Panda, who looks delighted to be out and about with everyone in his human disguise.

"That will have to be up to Satoru since he has a better judgment of what Shippo can handle," Kagome admits. It doesn't sound any different from the things Shippo did at the kitsune school and Shippo insists on going on missions with Satoru. Kagome shifts Koushi. He wraps his hand around her finger.

Satoru is a good father.

"Yo! Sorry, took longer than I thought it would." Satoru pulls out a chair to the right of Kagome for Shippo and then sits down next to her on the left. "Did we already order?"

"Gojo-sensei?" Yuji asks, lowering his voice. "Did you... did you kill someone?"

Shippo snickers.

Yuji rears back. "Shippo? Did you?"

"I'm just a kid," Shippo replies, widening his eyes and blinking them. "I would never. Why, I can't believe you would accuse me of such things." He sniffs.

"What? No! I wasn't—"

"Shippo, enough," Kagome interrupts. "I was going to order this for you if you weren't back in time." Kagome points to the menu.

"Looks good to me," Satoru replies, pulling out his phone. "I'll just go with that then." He slides his phone back into his pocket right as Kagome's vibrates.

Did he text her?

Satoru: I'm going to stick my tongue in your ass tonight ;)

Her face burns. She wants to look at him so badly, but she doesn't trust herself to not melt into a pile of goo at the table. Who says that? Her heart is beating so loud, she's just happy neither Shippo nor Panda have called her out on it. Satoru squeezes her thigh. She bites back the whimper, shocked by her reaction.

It is only after the server comes around to get their orders and returns with their meals that Megumi addresses Shippo. He runs a hand over his hair. "So, just curious, what did you do?"

Shippo glances away from the stage, a live show about a girl raised by lions and how she falls in love with the boy raised by hyenas, and cups his hand around his mouth. "He's alive. Papa let me practice my domain expansion."

The table goes still and then all eyes turn to Satoru, who continues to eat with one hand. His other hand is still firmly attached to her thigh.

"Satoru," Yaga says lowly, keeping his voice down. Kagome swears she is hearing a hint of fear in Yaga's voice.

"What? I was just helping to tire him out some before we leave here. No biggie." Satoru squeezes her thigh and then holds out his hands for Koushi. "Shhh, watch the show." He rests his arm across the back of her chair and brushes the tips of his fingers across her arm.

I'm going to stick my tongue in your ass tonight.

Kagome closes her eyes and exhales. So much for paying attention to the show.

***

A/N: The students are now regretting their decision to include Shippo in their Gojo-sensei appreciation event. Megumi hasn't shared his new shikigami with the others, so he's the only one who suspected Kagome may have had something to do with Satoru being able to take on their workload.

"Will Shippo get an attendant too?" - Right now Ito, is like the attendant/assistant for the whole family.

"Shippo probably needs more nutrition to keep up the illusion all day" - Yep, he's eating a lot more because he's expending more energy. He's on his way to gaining another tail.

Take care! Wishing a wonderful Sunday and a wonderful week. Drink plenty of water and get lots or rest!

Side story, I was talking to my grandma yesterday and she was telling me how happy she was to have little titties instead of many titties and I stared at the phone wondering how we got to such a conversation.

[restinslices]

Hello! Could you do the Lin Kuei trio with a g!n reader asking them to dance? Like what you did with the earthrealm boys!

You finna be real disappointed 😭

My phone storage still in hell so no pics. I need to make a moodboard for everyone or smth

Bi-Han

No

There's legit nothing else for me to say 

Listen, I know I make him sweeter than he actually is a lot but I can't make my fingers type some shit like “yeah! he'd totally be for it!”

You could be the apple of his eye, the reason he woke up in the morning, the oxygen in his lungs, the wind under his wings, his cinnamon apple, and he'd still tell you no 

“Absolutely not” to be more specific 

You think Bi-Han, the mf with a huge ego, is always serious and damn near has Batman's voice is gonna boogie? It's wishful thinking but the answer is no 

Especially for a video? Get the fuck-

The best you'll get is him listening to the song 

Which isn't all that good because he's the type to say “I'm listening” and is very much NOT  listening 

“I'm listening” *starts vacuuming*

He likes slower music so he'll “listen” to that 

I get it, y'all want me to say he'd be super sweet but babe at some point the delusion is so delusional we gotta snap out of it 

He wouldn't even have a favorite song because like I said, he's not listening much. Instead of hearing lyrics, he just keeps thinking “I can't believe they asked that”

Kuai Liang

No pt2

Y'all I can only lie so much 

Kuai Liang and Bi-Han are some of the most serious people in the game 

You're not getting either of them on board with this dancing shit 

And you're posting it? Now it's especially no

The Earthrealm guys are goofy. They'll do goofy shit like this. These guys? Some of y'all 'bout to be real mad at me, but it must be said… 

Unlike Bi-Han he'll listen to a song and actually listen to it

And maybe he'll have a favorite. Maybe. 

Kuai Liang gives me “I only stick to one genre” vibes so he'll listen to it but the chances of him listening to it again are pretty slim 

This ain't what y'all want but I'm tryna imagine it and feel the fantasy and it's just not fantasy-ing

Maybe he'll slow dance with you but that's off camera and private 

He wouldn't lie and be like “oh sure. We can do it later”

He's just like “um… no but thanks for the invite”

You can ask another Lin Kuei though. He won't be upset 

Or you can do it by yourself and he'll gladly watch and hold the camera 

Tomas Vrbada

Y'all ain't gon’ believe what imma say next-

LISTEN I wanna say they'd all bust it down but like y'all, let's be real 😭

None of them are letting you record them dancing then post it on the internet. They are assassins that's constantly doing shit for Earthrealm 

He'd be nice when he says no at least 

“I'm no good at dancing. You can show me though”

Maybe he'd do a little step to the left, step to the right, spin around and break it down tonight but it's not on camera 

It'd have to be the most simple dance ever and you two would have to be alone 

He'd do a little dance if you kept bothering him but that video shit is not happening and he'd only do it once. Maybe twice. 

Idk why but I feel like Tomas got two left feet but he'll try his best for you so you let it go 

I remember in a post I said I feel like he's lowkey a Twice stan but have y'all seen their choreography? He's gonna break a damn knee 

He'll gladly do the fan chants and watch you though 

Overall the answer is no but he'll listen to any songs you recommend and he'll watch you. Might do a little boogie once or twice if you stay on his ass. 

I wanted to be delusional too ya’ll but I couldn’t 😔 This is so short but I ain’t know what to say. We’ve discussed my brain is ass rn