#Jack has it as well but under a different flavor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cum-a-calla · 4 months ago

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i went a little insane on this Jack Delroy tidbit (is it still a tidbit if it’s 4800 words? get back to me on that)

Jack Delroy visits a diner in the middle of the night to wind down. He has very little in the way of expectations in the midst of fighting his own demons, but one thing he doesn’t expect is meeting a starstruck waitress that forces him to truly reckon with his urges.

under the cut: the lightest touch of dubcon, rough PIV fucking, fingerfucking, oral sex, public fucking, internal misery, and the suggestion of possession.

…

The late-night circuit is taking its toll on Jack.

It’s not so much the show - he lives to host, lives to act and react, lives to hype up his guests, to engage the audience. Genuinely enjoys the silly little skits they do. It’s living a dream, being in front of the camera and feeling that very specific, special feeling - not quite acting, not quite being himself. It’s less a façade and more a specific side of him - just a sliver of Jack, a flavor. A taste.

It’s not even really the late-night circuit, is it?

Ever since - …since, Jack’s been off. And why wouldn’t he be? The loss, the never-ending grind, the… the events that precluded this loss. The carving out of something inside of him, and to that end, when did that start? When the ratings fell? When Minnie did? When everything between those two massive events in his life took place? That secret in-between time, the woods, the eerie hooting in the trees, the costumes; God, the costumes had been so hack. He’d come so willingly, veins sluiced with booze, laughing, jeering with the rest of them. Until… until they weren’t.

Until he was kneeling in the pine needles, feeling them crunch under his knees, and had he ever paid so much attention to his surroundings? Had he ever stopped and noticed how it smelled in the forest? Perhaps not until then. Green, thick, heady. The sound of flapping wings, the whispers of his cohorts in the night. The metallic taste in the cup. Feeling something so unlike anything else, coursing through him, and wasn’t it so easy to chalk it up to nothing? It was easier. It was easier.

And then… and then.

It had been a time between sweet Minnie’s passing and his almost-reluctant return. But how long can tragedy keep you from your ultimate calling? There can only be so many mornings, noons and nights spent in a stupor, crying, vomiting, drinking, drugging. Only so much time avoiding every single part of your life, your livelihood. And what an unfair thing, to neglect one love of your life for the loss of another; Minnie’s face, her voice, she still lives in the back of his brain like an aneurysm. Capable of taking him completely out at any given moment.

And so the meetings in the Grove certainly helped, and perhaps did not at all. Before, after - what difference does time make, anyway? Minnie’s passing feels at once a hundred years in the past as well as five minutes ago. Time. Distortion is the only thing Jack knows anymore. There is only his life as the leading Night Owl and his life as Jack, and what in the fuck does that mean anymore unless he masks it with whatever else he can get his hands on?

His hands.

They tremble a little on the table, slid into a booth at a local diner. It’s a perfect imagining of a fifties spot, the plush, scuffed seats, the ridiculous outfits the largely female staff are wearing - the modest skirts, the aprons. The little notebook balanced against his waitress’s arm as she glides dutifully to his table.

“Evening,” she begins, glancing at him for barely a second before flipping a page. “Or - well, I guess it’s more like… good morning, right?” She laughs a gentle little laugh and it tugs at him, somehow. He watches her as he sweats, resisting the urge to wipe at his damp hairline. It’s been a fucking night.

“Evening and good morning to you, young lady,” he responds. Always genteel, always On.

She glances at him again and it’s a classic double-take. Eyes a little wider, she shifts in place and stares at her notebook, making every effort to conceal her recognition. Jack’s seen this look hundreds, thousands of times, so used to it that he can only smile warmly in return. The price of fame, but also the pleasure. She’s turning pink in the cheeks and it’s endearing, the way it lights her freckles up, the way it makes her squirm in place. Jack is charmed. He’s used to all ranges of attention - clamoring women, shy women, forward men. He takes it all in stride, but it’s the shy ones that get him. Demure, unsure. Something in his gut twists, and he waits politely for her to organize her thoughts before he says anything else.

“Th-thank you,” she stammers, blushing. “I… I know you must uh, get this a lot, but… you look like somebody,” she hints. She flicks her eyes from her notepad to Jack’s own eyes, guarded, giddily scared.

“I do get that a lot,” he says warmly. He drops her a quick, clever wink. “You’re clearly up late enough to know for sure, considering.”

She lifts the pad and covers her mouth with it, making an adorable, almost-silent squeal of excitement. The tips of her ears are burning, she’s so flustered. Jack can’t help but grin, laughing at her genuine and unbridled reaction.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry, I’m being so dumb! I just - I love you,” she gushes, and the words tumbling from her lips embarrass her even further as she cringes at herself. Absolutely gorgeous - Jack can’t help but run his eyes quickly along the line of her body, noting the curve of her waist, the length of her legs. The hint of bare thigh under her skirt. “I’m such a fan. I know everybody must say that, I.. wow, I’ve never met somebody famous before. Especially not somebody I’m such a big fan of.”

“That’s incredibly sweet. Must be my lucky night, being waited on by such a lovely fan,” he flirts. The dark twist in his pelvis keeps him eyeing her, and he’s forced to take the linen napkin on the table and blot at his forehead. “Excuse me - been a long, long night.”

“I bet,” she says. “I imagine you’re constantly busy. Mister Delroy, I’m so sorry for keeping you waiting - what can I get you?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that. Just a… a black coffee will do me for now.”

She nods and the woman scurries away, glowing with excitement. It’s just one of the many perks, the hoards of beautiful women that lose themselves in his presence. The power there. Jack is easy, kind - hearted. He has no need for applause, not in the way you’d assume - he lives to be enjoyed, lives to be an entertainment, sure. But the drive isn’t for the droves of people begging to worship him - and isn’t that cliché? Isn’t that just something a famous, rich asshole would say, or convince himself of?

But it rings true. All he wanted - all he wants, all he sacrificed for -

All he sacrificed for… is to be needed.

The girl comes back with his coffee, placing it down on top of a napkin in an oversized, chipped mug. Jack smiles warmly at her and winks again, watching her thighs under her skirt as she hurries away again. It’s cute, really. It’s heartening in a way, but mostly… it stirs. Jack forcibly turns his head and stares down at the scratched formica tabletop, coffee steaming. A single drop trails its way down the cup and stains the napkin, bleeding through to the table. In the low of his gut, in the back of his brain, a whisper begins. He sweats - he’s always sweating these days. The cocaine, the alcohol, the various other substances he blinds himself with… and -

And…

The… thing. The thing that makes his belly hot, the thing that turns his cock hard even when he least expects it. It’s like a black, swirling possession over him; it’s the only thing that he doesn’t need a substance for, but a substance against. It’s not a drunkenness, not a high - it’s something else entirely, a tingling, pervasive kind of darkness.

It’s been easy to overcome it most of the time…

Most of the time.

It gets harder every day, little by little. What makes it really hard is when he finds a person, a thing, a place, a situation - something that makes his fucking balls ache, something that fills him to the throat with blackness, with need, and he follows. It’s all part of it. Resisting makes him… not himself. Giving in makes him not himself. Where the line between who he thinks he is and who he is now has been blurred, irrevocably lost in the dust of things, impossible to decipher. The ruins of his life have been buried so many ways in such a short amount of time. He looks in the mirror and it’s a miracle to recognize himself anymore. He rakes his fingers through his hair, straightens the lapels on his suit jacket. It’s hot. He takes the napkin, blots his sweat once more.

He stares serenely out the window at the darkened sky. Stars are out, now, piercing through all that velvety blue-black, like freckles, like pinholes embedded in some luxurious cloth. He checks his watch - just about a quarter to three in the morning, and not even a wink of an urge to sleep. Nothing satiates, nothing helps him rest. Constantly on the hamster wheel, doing his little dance.

“Mister Delroy - I, uh - well - I know you just ordered the coffee, but… we had some extra things, so… I just thought - in case you were hungry… On the house, of course.”

Jack turns to the waitress as she carries a plate to him, steaming with all kinds of fixings - hashbrowns, eggs, bacon, toast. She toes her shoe on the floor, and again he steals a look at the little bit of exposed thigh, the way she nervously straightens the apron affixed to the front of her uniform dress. He smiles up at her and there’s a whisper in the back of his mind - he watches her struggle to try to look away, but she can’t. He indulges her in her sweet gaze, refusing to break eye contact just to see what she does. She squirms a little, pleasantly so - her pupils dilate, flicker from his mouth back to his eyes. Trying not to be obvious. It makes him laugh a little, a hum under his breath as he takes a sip of his coffee.

“Thank you very much, dear. You sure know how to take care of a tired man.”

She looks at the floor, smiles so big. She ducks under the length of her hair but it does nothing to dull the sheer delight making her face glow so. Jack wants to grab her by the hips - a line of racing thoughts boil his blood, stir his cock as he sits. Thinking about her lips on him, the warmth of her mouth, his fingers digging into her. Stop. Not now. Please. Fighting the urges, the impulses.

“Anything for you, Mister Delroy.”

He almost winces, dick jumping in his slacks. God, she’s adorable. There’s an almost coquettish quality to the way she looks up at him again, under her lashes, hands clasped chastely behind her back. She licks her lips and he feels suddenly so, so feral. He can almost taste her by power of thought alone.

“Jack is fine… I insist.” He reaches out and takes her hand. Her fingers tremble the slightest bit and it sets his soul on fucking fire. He brings her soft hand to his lips and kisses her tenderly on the knuckles, resisting the urge to take her fingers into his mouth, to gently bite on the tips of them. He imagines pushing his own fingers between her pink lips and feeling her tongue, reaching back toward her throat until she’s teary-eyed. He watches her as she exhales, shaky. Uncertain. Absolutely excited.

“Jack,” she parrots under her soft breath. “Jack it is, then.”

As she hurries back behind the counter, fielding some of the other late night owls in the restaurant, he contemplates what exactly brought him here. Why the cocaine never jumps him the way it used to, at the beginning. Before the - the… gathering. Why the booze doesn’t calm him the way it used to. Why nothing works, why nothing can settle the hot, despicable urges, the constant crawling underneath his own flesh.

He spends the better part of the next hour switching between gazing out the window, sipping his coffee (and then another, and then another) and picking at his plate, forcing himself to chew the food, to taste it, to appreciate his server’s gift. It does nothing to satiate him. He can barely feel hunger these days - it’s just going through the motions.

Minnie used to make a killer breakfast. On lazy weekends, while he slept off a hangover, and -

He pushes those thoughts away.

3:55 A.M.

The cute waitress comes around again and seems pleasantly surprised to keep finding him here, alone, lingering. Is he lingering? Why is he still here? He should be trying to sleep everything off, getting at least a snatch of shut-eye before another busy day tomorrow trying to up his ratings. There’s a very special show in the works - still in the idea phase, still scouting for a story, but… it’s shaping. Things are rolling, building up. The smart thing to do would be to pay his bill and catch a cab to his hotel room so he can rest fitfully for a few hours.

He asks for the bill and she swallows her own crestfallen feelings as she turns to retrieve it for him. He glances at it, pulls bills from his cracked leather bifold and tips her so generously that her eyes almost bug out of her head. She begins to refuse his tip and he rises from his seat, shushing her. He towers over here and she has no choice but to gaze up at him, like the very length of him is hypnotizing. The shared hunger. He can feel it like electricity, and for a split second they’re so close to each other that he could hook his hand behind the curve of her skull and pull her into a kiss. There’s zero doubt she would give it to him.

Instead, he grasps her shoulder and gives her a light squeeze.

“Thank you for a delightful breakfast - or dinner. Whatever is appropriate for this time of night,” he jokes.

She smiles, beaming at him like he’s the sun and she can do nothing more but bask in his light. “Of course, Mister Del - er, of course, Jack. It was such a pleasure to meet you. A dream.”

“I’m flattered,” he says, and he means it. That’s one thing about his job, and about protecting the shreds of humility he still has left - he always means it. There is nothing more intoxicating, nothing more rewarding than meeting a person who lights up at his very presence. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Touching somebody in such a profound way that brings a little joy, a little entertainment? “The pleasure’s all mine.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true.” Her voice is low, quiet and sweet. He stoops just slightly to catch it, that dark little voice tickles the back of his brain as he finds himself just a touch closer to her, and he swallows against the urge again to crush her against him, to sip her breath into his lungs and feel her tongue against his. Her eyes glitter in the old, yellowed lights of the diner. He, the Jack Delroy, finds himself utterly speechless and hanging on to her silence like a life raft, awash in his own deafening desire. “I’ll never forget this night, Jack.”

He’s the one basking, now, wondering what her feverish cheek might feel like against his, what other parts of her might feel just as hot, just as deliriously pink and warm against his own flesh. He summons a graceful smile, but it comes out as more of a gentle smirk, a huff of a laugh. Since when does Jack get nervous?

She waits and he regains control of himself, running his fingers through his hair and swiping the back of his hand across his damp hairline, straightening up, taking a deep breath.

“I’m sure I won’t be forgetting this night any time soon, myself,” he jokes. She’s delighted, practically vibrating in place. He can almost smell her, her sweat. Some delicate kind of perfume or soap.

He makes his way outside and waves at her as she returns behind the counter, scurrying into the kitchens - he imagines her in there pressing her hands to her own cheeks, shaking out her adrenaline and excitement. It’s endearing. It sets him on fire.

There are a line of pay phones outside of the restaurant, and he steps into one and lights a cigarette, flipping through the pages to find a cab service. He finds himself eyeing the building, seeing if he can see her through the windows as she continues serving. Mere glimpses - he sees her flit back and forth a little, remaining largely out of his view.

He closes the abused phone book and drops it to hang on its heavy chain, the pages nearly in tatters by years and years of use. He exits the booth without having so much as put any coins into the slot, opting instead to walk across the parking lot. He glances at his watch - 4:14 A.M. He seats himself on a cement block at the edge of the lot, finishing his cigarette just to light up another one directly after. God, he could really use a scotch or two - not that it would help any.

Minutes tick by and he waits. He rubs his sweaty palms down his thighs, constantly checking his watch. 4:21 A.M.

By the time 4:45 A.M. rolls around, he spots her. The lot is dark, the flickering neon sign of the diner doing little to expose him to her. She has a purse slung over her shoulder and not much else. Jack rises to his feet, wincing at the pop of his knees, the stiffness in his back. He flicks the butt of his cigarette to the ground and smashes the lit end with the toe of his shoe.

He approaches her and the gravel crunching under his feet has her suddenly alert, jerking her attention toward him. He watches her tense up, eyes wide, clutching the strap of her bag. Her features distort with fear, confusion. She can’t seem to decide how to feel, expression blurring and resetting, blurring again.

“Jack…? What are you - what are you doing here?”

“I was, uh… well, I suppose I was waiting.”

“Waiting for…?”

“For you.”

A hint of delight seems to ease her tension, but not enough for her to relax. She shifts from one foot to the other. Jack aches. He feels the heat pooling in his pelvis, feels that pull. His cock is already half-hard, pulsing with his heartbeat as he comes closer. She’s frozen to the spot, unable to do much else but watch him.

“For me? Wh-why?”

“There is something very special about you, I think. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, if I’m being honest.”

He’s nearly touching her, and he slowly brings his finger to her chin, lifting her face to his. He leans down until he can feel her shuddering little breaths against his mouth. She licks her lips, anticipating him, and he finally bridges that gap. Her lips are so soft, her kiss so submissive, inviting. It’s even better than he’d been fantasizing about, and inky black tendrils of desire creep up through his spine, dripping behind his ribs like ichor. Roiling down from his belly to his balls, stiffening his cock. The violence. The utter, blind, salivating need as he pulls her close, buries his fingers in the fabric of her cheap uniform as he does so. She resists for a moment and seems to melt into him, moaning into his mouth.

He could eat her alive.

They stumble together across the gravel, her hands on his face, skating over his sharp cheekbones to muss his hair. He grabs at her ass, squeezing the generous flesh there. He imagines biting her, leaving a mark that she’ll feel for days to come, imagines her craning to look into a mirror and running her fingers along bruises, bite marks. God, how he wants to mark her.

He guides her clumsily into the mouth of an alley behind the diner. Pressed against the wall, he has the freedom to roam further under her skirt. He tucks his thumbs into the band of her sheer, nylon tights, pulling them down to her calves. Kneeling before her, he watches her flushed expression as he rips her panties off her body with his strong hands, relishing the way she squeals his name. Like a trapped animal. A lamb trembling in the jaws of a wolf. He dips his fingers between her thighs, sliding them into the tight heat of her cunt. She gasps as he fills her this way, stroking, thrusting until she’s practically panting. He ducks under her dress and a growl rumbles up his throat as he tastes her. He wants her dripping down his face. He wants her to beg him to stop, to feel her tighten exquisitely around his fingers as he fucks her with them.

She’s alternating between gently pulling his hair and petting it, thumb slipping occasionally down to trace the bridge of his nose. She does this many times, and it’s so unexpectedly intimate it catches him off guard. Feeling him, painting the image of his profile on the inside of her mind’s eye like a tattoo - it’s not enough to be able to look at him, touch him, kiss him, watch him on TV. She traces him. She memorizes the shape of his nose, the gentle slope of his brow, fingers tickling over his cheekbones. It has him leaking in his trousers.

Her breath catches in her throat and his name is on her lips, sweet and soft as silk, thighs shaking, and there it is - she climaxes. He pulls his fingers out of her and stoops even lower, tongue pushing as far as he can into her folds, nosing her clit. This seems to do something animalistic to her; she nearly screams, covering her own mouth as she grinds against him. He wonders idly if she’ll buck hard enough to break his nose (and so be it, he decides).

Jack can’t wait any longer. He wipes his face off on his sleeve, spins her in place and yanks her hips back. She’s still catching her breath, face so red in the shadows of the alleyway. Eyes half-lidded and dreamy, lips swollen. She glances back at him and watches him struggle to unbuckle and unzip himself, pulling his hard cock out to rub between her wet thighs.

“Jack - please,” she whines. “Please, please.”

“Please what?” God, she’s so fucking slippery. He could swoon on the spot. She makes a soft, whimpering sound and he pulls the head of his cock away, teasing. “Come on. Say what you want.”

“Please… make it hurt.”

For a moment, he stares into her eyes in surprise, and she offers him a coy smile. It changes her features into something a little more sinister than he’d expected. It sets him on fire. Without another word, Jack lines himself up to her plush, slick, waiting cunt and fills her in one brutal thrust. She stiffens on the spot and screams, and now it’s his turn to clap a hand over her mouth.

“Oh, but you wanted this, little dove,” he coos in her ear between grunts. He fucks her hard, fast, feeling all that silken flesh rippling around him. “I had no idea you’d be so filthy. Are you like this for other men? Older men? Spreading your legs in an alley for them to fuck you open?”

The sounds she makes against his hand are probably words - surely they are, but all he hears is her desperate mewling, her high-pitched moans and near-shrieks, the feeling of her breath and drool, her teeth as she considers biting into the flesh of his palm.

“Just me, then? How long have you wanted this, how long have you fantasized about Jack-fucking-Delroy pounding into your little pussy? Do you think of me when you try to sleep? Do you touch yourself thinking of it? Is it what you expected, darling?”

He can barely control himself. There’s a special place between heaven and hell, some secret universe they’ve created with all the heat and pressure of their bodies, with the whispering darkness coursing through him, clouding him, transforming him. There’s nothing else but the urge to rip her in half. To make her scream, to fill her so violently that she feels it for days, for weeks even. He releases her mouth in order to grab her hips, hooking his fingers around the soft flesh there to yank her back against his brutal thrusts. He no longer cares how loud she screams. He likes the way her hands flutter back, grabbing at his wrists, reaching for this thighs in a poor attempt to escape his violence, to temper the way he hammers into her. But he’s too far gone - the smack of his hips into her ass, the way their bodies make the most infernally wet sounds… it’s all there is.

Jack hears a sound, something that nags him in the back of his mind. A rhythmic, gentle noise in the distance, something familiar but unable to breach the ferocity of his current focus. As the pressure builds in his balls, cock harder and more rigid than ever before, he recognizes it. Delirious, he recognizes the sound of an owl somewhere among these buildings, the gentle, almost mocking call of it every couple minutes.

Something about it pushes him over the edge, sweat rolling down his forehead in hot, fat drops, tickling the tip of his nose. He holds her flush as release frees him from all that pressure, muscles tightening and relaxing and waves of molten-hot pleasure surge all through his belly, between his thighs. She’s nearly sobbing at this point, and who can blame her? Each throb of his cock has him grunting against her, draped over her body, teeth bared.

Jack’s easing up, now. He rocks through his orgasm and fills her with his cum, pushing himself as deeply as he can as if a slave to his biological urge. Coating her, marking her with his seed. Mine. I did this.

As he’s emptied himself into her, so empties his mind. No more owl sounds, no more swirling thoughts, the darkness dissipating. He pulls his softening cock from her body and tucks himself away, doing his best to help the poor woman straighten up. Tear tracks shine on her cheeks, little sniffles accompanying her embarrassed smile. There’s fear there, just a little. It hides beneath the veneer of guilty satisfaction, of still being starstruck by her company. It seems that she can barely believe everything that’s just happened. He puts an arm slowly around her shoulders and guides her out from the alley, taking a secret and perverse satisfaction in the way she has to limp a little at first.

“Hey - that was… well, that was something, wasn’t it?” He laughs nervously, searching her to make sure she’s okay. “Are you all right? Do you need a cab? I’d be happy to get one for you, to share?”

“That would be great, actually, if - if it isn’t a pain, Mister Delroy.”

“Jack,” he corrects her gently. He turns her toward the phone book and she waits beside it as he makes the call, staring into the night sky and hugging herself warm. He reemerges, and the way she looks up at him fills him with something he can’t quite name. Some kind of near-familiarity. He’s suddenly struck with his need for the affection, to hold her, to lean own and kiss her lips and be tender to her after all of that. He shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over her shoulders, drinks in her warm little smile as she tugs it around her. They wait in a comfortable silence, occasionally smiling at each other until a car pulls into the lot. It doesn’t take very long at all. He escorts her to it and slides into the back with her once she’s seated, resting his heavy hand on her knee.

“Would you like to… do you need a place to stay the night?” The nip of loneliness. The need, poking its head restlessly into his mind, his body. So different than what they’d done against the wall, so much scarier. “If you’d like to join me…”

She tries unsuccessfully to hide a grin, turning to stare out the window at nothing at all. Hiding her delight, her own need. “I’d love to, Jack.”

#can i just jump into my own story or what like #hurry up and invent the technology #my writing #mine #jack delroy #lnwtd #late night with the devil #jack delroy smut #jack delroy x reader #jack delroy x you #jack delroy/reader #jack delroy/you #my tender violent daddy ass fuckin man right here holy fuck #i actually considered doing some daddy shit in here but it didn’t feel right. maybe another time #hail satan y’all

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mynnthia · 8 months ago

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Jack-O'-Lantern Potage and Sautéed Dryad Buds with Cheese (Kabocha Pumpkin Potage, and Sautéed Chinese Cabbage with Mushroom and Cheese)

ID: a photo with some dishes of food – from bottom to top: 1) a plate of sautéed chinese cabbage with mushroom and cheese sauce 2) a bowl of kabocha pumpkin soup 3) a pot of kabocha pumpkin soup. there is a sticky note on the pot with a face drawn to resemble the "Jack-O'-Lantern" bowl, pictured in the screenshot below

ID: a screenshot of the Dungeon Meshi anime, depicting "Jack-O'-Lantern Potage and Sautéed Dryad Buds with Cheese" the "Jack-O'-Lantern Potage" resembles pumpkin soup, served in 3 bowls and a pumpkin-like fruit with a face. the "Sautéed Dryad Buds with Cheese" is a ringed green vegetable covered in cheese sauce

ID: a photo of the same dishes as the first image in the post, but taken from a different angle

my first recreated dungeon meshi meal!

i had been planning on making kabocha pumpkin soup/potage for a while. after watching the newest dungeon meshi episode where they made "Jack-O'-Lantern Potage and Sautéed Dryad Buds with Cheese", i decided to recreate the full meal with the ingredients i had!

it turned out really good, definite recommend

if anyone is interested, i wrote up additional info about my process under the cut:

"kabocha" is the english term for the main kind of pumpkin common in east/southeast asia. it has a richer flavor and texture than orange pumpkins in the west, which makes it great for soups and stir-fries.

for my soup, i combined the kabocha with carrot and potato. the additional vegetables add nutritional value, and help "bulk up" the portion size.

ID: a photo of 2 kabocha pumpkins. one is sliced open hotdog-style, the other is intact [link to image source]

despite the smaller portion size, adapting the "Sautéed Dryad Buds with Cheese" was the bigger challenge for me – i was already familiar with making kabocha soup, so that was simple

i decided to use some leftover chinese cabbage for the dryad buds because of the similar appearance. i assume it was meant to be analogous to onion, but i'm allergic

ID: screenshot of some Dungeon Meshi manga panels, featuring Senshi preparing and cooking the dryad buds. when Senshi cuts open the dryad bud, he notes "mmm, this has a nice aroma"

when i tried searching for "cheese cabbage recipe" all the results were for oven-baked dishes. i debated baking the cabbages, but when i tried to cut them into rings, the cabbage didn't really hold shape, so i decided to just sauté them to save time

i thought about just throwing some shredded cheese into the pan when sautéing, but decided to make a cheese sauce for more accuracy

i made bechamel sauce (a french sauce base, made from melted butter, flour, and milk), and added cheese to make a cheese sauce. then i stir-fried the cabbage and mushrooms in butter and olive oil, seasoned with salt, pepper, paprika, and a bit of light soy sauce. i added the cheese sauce afterwards. it turned out surprisingly well!

ID: a screenshot of the Dungeon Meshi anime, depicting "Sautéed Dryad Buds with Cheese" being made a ringed green vegetable is being cooked with mushrooms on top, and a cheese sauce being poured onto it

if youve made it to here, thank you for reading! idk if ill recreate more dungeon meshi dishes in the future (i just happened to have all the ingredients for this one already, so it was convenient) but we'll see

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #food #mynn.txt #uhh fuck i dont have a food tag #mynn.food #there we go. may or may not use it again in the future #dm art

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miz-chase · 3 months ago

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🍉 🍑 🍋!

🍉 Do you prefer to write short fics or long fics? Multichaptered works or single ones? Why?

I tend to write in the 1.5-3k range because it's long enough to Do Something, but not so long that it consumes me. Usually I struggle with keeping track of multiple stories at the same time, and if my brain has moved on to a different story before I'm done writing the first, it ends up a mess / I get bored

Also I work a job that lets me set my own hours, which means if I'm intensely into a long fic sometimes I sorta.... blow off work. For multiple days at a time. Which can be bad. So again, it's better if I write shorter things. I'm bad at being a grownup.

🍑 If you could make a connection between your favorite character and another work you care about (whether a crossover/fusion or a wonderfully “pretentious” literary reference) what would it be? How would it work?

I'm going to pass over the obvious Jane joins the FBI or B&B get a case in Boston Bones/R&I crossover. Obviously I'd be into that.

Also passing over the Rizzles Gentleman Jack AU. Also too obvious.

So this AU I've been sitting on since before the pandemic, even before I started to get back into crime procedurals, comes from a shuffled mix of NK Jemisen's Broken Earth trilogy, a little hint of Dragon Age (which is just BE with shittier politics lbr), and Meliso Caruso's The Tethered Mage. They all deal with magic as a slave caste under full control by politico-religious authorities. BE & TTM especially deals with the complicated, often hostile 1-on-1 bond between magic users and their Guardian/Falconer controller. Mages are a living tool used by their Guardians to enforce law, solve crimes, whatever. Can you see where this is going?

I'm interested in the tension of Booth and Jane using Brennan and Maura as tool-object-persons. Having authority over them, directing their talents, while also polite-society-pretending the relationship is consensual and equal. Meanwhile Brennan and Maura to a degree don't care / aren't putting up a fight / are happy to have a bond / just want to get out and do the work. They share an arguably autistic-flavored focus on doing their science, such that they care more about doing the work well than they care about the political system they are feeding, and how they are being used. How do you build a functional (or even healthy?) partnership when power is unequally distributed? How do friendly, even flirty, social interactions play out between the controller and the controlled? How do you confront "I love you but I could never free you. It's not safe for you or me."?

I like that it takes an undertone, unaddressed dynamic from the source material and amplifies it to an extreme. It's fucked up and messy and discomforting, that's what makes it fun >:3c

(usually it ends with the controlled escaping and making their own way, which forces the controller to confront their feelings and the system they're upholding and then they fight to support the mage revolution blah blah, you know, high fantasy tropes)

🍋 What’s your favorite spicier trope to write?

I'm gonna go with.... praise kink/praise-based dom. "You can take it." "You're so good for me" etc. Pushing extremes while being affectionate and supportive and maybe a little condescending, rather than hostile or degrading, is fun to play with!

ALSO! Bad sex!! It's fun, its funny, it's real. Let them be messy disasters, let them work through shame and trying too hard to be perfect and the mishaps of life

#ask game #welcome to my long convoluted high fantasy acab #dont even get me started on high fantasy au #the m caruso books are trash dont read them just harvest the useful trope structures for other things #the nk jemisin books are a *hard* read and should not be spoken of this frivolously #do not read them without thoroughly research the tws #im just stealing a tiny bit from them and sanitizing the aspect im stealing

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assorted-candy · 1 year ago

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20 Q's for Fic Writers

I got tagged by @dp-marvel94! Thank you!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

I've just posted my 22nd work a few days ago!

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

37,763

3. What fandoms do you write for?

So far, all my published fics are for Danny Phantom. It's a fandom that's near and dear to my heart and my favorite to write for. I've written fanfiction for myself in a lot of different fandoms over the years. Miraculous Ladybug, Mega Man (Star Force, Battle Network) and Fire Emblem are a few. (Will these ever see the light of day? Probs not, lol)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 5. Frayed Ends - 37 kudos - Jazz and Maddie are fighting more often. Jack wants to reach out and help his family. 4. The Same Blood - 45 kudos - Maddie and Jack try to help a sick girl that collapsed in front of their house. They don't know what to make of her condition. Danny wants to help.

3. Returned Home - 49 kudos - Maddie finds Danny at home after he disappeared ten months ago.

2. The Broken Pieces Left Behind - 66 kudos (tie) - Maddie knew what the portal did to Danny. If she could create something that essentially turned him into a ghost, she could figure out a way to fix all of it. Even if she hasn't made any progress in the past two months, she'll keep trying. She didn't account for what Danny wanted. 1 . What's Out of Out Control - 66 kudos (tie) - Danny thought he had it under control. He thought he could finally hang out like they used to always do. Tucker could feel the rift between them widening. It wasn't getting smaller anytime soon.

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to! There were a few comments from my two earlier fics that I never responded to and it's already been so long and I feel like I ended up putting it off too long to say anything now 😓But I'm so so thankful for all the comments I receive! I never thought anyone would read my work, let alone comment on it. I'm always between two modes of 'author commentary' and 'screaming thank you and running away'.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Lol, I love my angsty stuff and there are so many different flavors of angst, so it's hard to pick just one. I'd say the piece I aimed to write for Angst Fest, The Broken Pieces Left Behind, might be it. It ends on a rather hopeless note for the Fenton family that even I don't know how to make everything better for them

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Home for a Cat. It was for a Ectoberhaunt prompt that I was absolutely stumped on. So I decided someone was going to adopt a cat by the end of the fic.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Ahh, so I actually posted a fic on FFN wayyy back when I was in high school. I remember it being received pretty well but I got a really rude comment on a simple spelling mistake. Back then, I was just told I had dyslexia a few years prior and I had some really bad self-esteem issues tied in with that. So, yeah, that comment basically made me terrified to ever show my work to anyone ever.

It's been over ten years since then and I wanted to actually get over that fear. I impulsively decided to do Angst Fest with the mindset that no one would even look at what I posted. Not only did people look, everyone has been so kind!!!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

lkdajldkf, nope. I get flustered trying to write basic romance and having two characters hold hands, lmao. Major props to those that can, it's definitely a skill that takes time to master just like any other genre.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I haven't.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Also haven't had this either.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, but it seems like a lot of fun.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Back when the show was airing, Amethyst Ocean (Danny/Sam) was my go to. I'm a sucker for friends to lovers tropes and it's really nostalgic for me. But, I don't really read a lot of shippy things for Danny Phantom, so ships don't make or break a fic for me.

If I'm looking to read romance, the whole Love Square (MariChat my beloved) with Miraculous Ladybug will always be great. Even if I jumped ship on the show around season 2 or 3 and I have no clue what they're doing now, lol.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I honestly have so many WIPs that are unfinished on my computer from over the years. Maybe a super old one that I titled 'Phantoms in the Daylight'. Angst once more with Character Death as the main pain point. I like the beginning but oh boy, does it get sloppy and confusing real quick. I'd need serious outlining energy put into it if I'd ever want to salvage it and I just don't have it in me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue! Give me two blorbos and I'll make them talk forever.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Scenery and description. I love the dialogue portion so much that I end up running into the floating heads in an empty room problem in the first drafts of my fics. My first round of edits are dedicated to making sure I have a scene and grounding characters into it. And then I have to go back later to make it not feel so robotic sounding.

(Also a weakness but more as in fic than writing. Summaries and Titles. I stare at my drafts on AO3's editor for at least half an hour trying to pull something together, lol)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I can probably talk about this for hours, lol. I absolutely love foreign languages, especially when it comes to linguistics. So, I'll try to be brief, lmao. Short answer: depends on the fic but normally no. I already spend so much time fussing over the word choice/slang/formality/dialect characters use in my native language. I don't have a good enough grasp on another language for it to sound natural to the reader. ("They would not fucking say that" is my internal monologue during dialogue edits, lol)

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It's a toss up between Pokemon and Danny Phantom. I first learned about fanfiction from a friend who showed me FFN for the Pokemon fics. I looked around the site and found all of the Danny Phantom fics soon after and got hooked on those. I started writing around then and it would have been for one of those two.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Hard to chose one! Writing technicality wise, I'm proud of how What Remains on the Table turned out. I consider description my weak point, so the original draft was 0 dialogue with very stiff descriptions. I was able to edit it to really practice my environmental storytelling. (Although, please mind the tags if you click the link as it does deal with the dissection topic)

I'm not sure who's been tagged and I'm not sure who writes fanfic, so @lavendarlily, @fangirlwriting-stories, @grub-xd, @nanaarchy and anyone else that wants to join!

#tag game #danny phantom #fanfic authors #candy-posts

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into-the-fraymotif · 2 months ago

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May I ask for one of these three fraymotifs, I guess roll a d6 for which one is actually made ohohohoho 1-2 maid of void + rouge of light 3-4 maid of void + seer of space 5-6 maid of void + muse of hope

I’m going to do the first two, one here, and the other is going in the queue solo. But first I will take the time to explain though why I’m leaving the third out.

It’s super long tho so I’m putting it all under the cut

So, the Muse. There’s a very intentional reason why i left the master Classes out of the equation when calculating how many viable Classpect Pairs there were to be made into Fraymotifs. You see, a Class is not only the way you interact with your Aspect, but it is also the kind of person you are; they are at their core character archetypes flavored with superpowers. The two master Classes don’t really function this way. You see, where the main 12 really flesh out their Heroes’ personalities and interactions, the two master Classes are Vast, Vague, and Very powerful, but not at all specific. The Lord does everything that every active Class does, and the Muse does everything that every passive Class does, which doesn’t tell you anything about the person who holds the title, just the position that person has. Caliborn is The Foreground Character (always already here), and Calliope is The Background Character, permeating the back half of the story in close-to-no direct way. The Lord, while not necessarily a bad guy, is a Mary Sue by definition. And the Muse may as well be a SylphMaidPageHeirSeerBard Jack-Of-All-Trades Master-of-None.

I cannot stress enough that when it comes to the two master Classes, your entire archetype boils down to the function you have in the narrative, because if it were anything else, it'd be a different Class. So, any powers they have, when applied anywhere close to the level of a Fraymotif, would not be a “Special Attack”, it would be a Major Narrative Event that shapes the plot of your session irreversibly. And I’m not here to tell you how your story pans out, developing it yourself is the fun part of storytelling, and I don’t want to take that away. That said, wanting to play a powerful Hero is by no means a bad thing. It’s fun to play a broken character! (Especially the Muse of Hope, which is the most effective Muse in a team-setting imo) Have fun with your peeps and your characters, I just find that the master Classes’ regular powers are essentially Fraymotifs in their own right, and there’s really no point because any combo would be “and then the Lord wins”/“and then the Muse causes their allies to win”.

Anyway, enough of my whining, here’s your first request:

Ode to Nihilappraisal

Rogue of Light [one who redistributes and redistributes through information, relevance, and fortune] + Maid of Void [one who serves and serves through emptiness, irrelevance, and absence]

Ode (a lyric poem in the form of an address to a particular subject, often elevated in style or manner and written in varied or irregular meter) + Nihil (Latin for "nothing") + Appraisal (an act of assessing something or someone)

The Maid, as one who serves the Void, would naturally be in communication with and in some cases directly receive orders from the Noble Circle of Horrorterrors (if the Witch of Void was a Warlock, think of the Maid as a unionized employee). So through following the whims of the NCHT, they would grant the Maid some degree of access to their powers.

The Rogue could then take the knowledge of the existence of the NCHT and redistribute it amongst the Targets. The NCHT don’t really like people knowing them all that much, so that combined with the Maid’s upkeep on all that it unknown, and the Rogue taking the physical brightness of the area and giving it to the Targets for dramatic effect, would culminate in the Targets being… well…

When matter and antimatter meet, they annihilate. So when you have a bunch of Lightened up Targets and you flood them with the true nature of the Void, both Aspects annihilate with each other; this is brought on by the wrath of the NCHT, and by the Maid "cleaning up" all the "clutter" that is supposed to be in the empty space, and the Rogue redistributing all of the Target's relevance elsewhere,

Evaporating the Target.

Yeah.

That's the power of combining opposite Aspects.

This is also a slightly special case because the Maid Class usually only serves the nature of their Aspect (like Time, making sure everything is moving forward smoothly and pruning doomed timelines, and Life ensuring that everything g keeps growing and developing, etc.), but Void is a special case because there are tangible forces to serve with dynamic motives out there that also have crazy Paradox Space warping powers.

A Maid of Void may not work under the NCHT in every session; I honestly don't know how many Maids they need for whatever motives they have, so... A less cool version may be just the Rogue redistributing the Target's relevance somewhere else, and the Maid tidying up the job to ensure the Target is nearly completely irrelevant such that the Target fades into obscurity. Not as cool, but Heroes of Void are rather inconsistent between sessions, regardless of Class.

Thank you for your patience and I hope this was worth the wait! More to come in the queue as per my last post.

#homestuck #fraymotif #discussion #request #rogue of light #maid of void

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talesofsonicasura · 2 years ago

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Not A Plaything

Prologue: Unfriendly Meeting

Somethings aren't meant to be toys. A line that one should always respect. To cross it is to break those involved and leave the innocent picking up the pieces.

Can be read gender neutral or preferred gender.

'Toys make the world go around.' A phrase that those who craft goodies for children of all ages would probably agree on. Whether it was for the smiles or money, toys were made to bring enjoyment to these youthful bundles.

Dolls, plastic cars, playing cards, building blocks were just some of many flavors they came in. Size doesn't really matter compared to the quality. And there were some lines people would cross if they want the perfect toy. Yet, perfection has a price. One that can be seen as morally forbidden depending on how far a toy maker will go.

It can develop into a growing nightmare if more than a single crafter choose to dance with the devil. One company would soon become a hidden workshop of horrors, crafting monsters in exchange for blood. Products made from stolen lives and broken morals.

The thing about commiting taboo is that one day it will all come down. Play with the Devil then you better prepare to pay the price. Cause all dues shall be collected at some point. It was a single incident that led to the massive downfall of this dark company. The Devil's due paid in blood and death as nothing remain except for their sins.

Although, not everything would become forgotten. One tortured soul was given salvation in the form of a determined child. The Devil within the factory knew what these two meant to each other. And let both leave together as they were proof that hope still exists.

Something which expanded far beyond what anyone could imagine.

"Yo, I'm back!" It was a freezing cold day despite being spring season. A lone house sat peacefully deep in the forest, it's roof peppered by the sunlight piercing through the green canopy. It held a comfy aura to it from the two small gardens on each side, soft peach walls and multiple wild cats napping in a homemade shelter.

The two floor home did have oddities for the door frames alongside the hallways were strangely wider. Almost if to accommodate the needs of something large. It could be considered strange to even ominous for many people.

Well, maybe not for you as this been your home for at least a decade. Every wooden board, brick, and piece of plaster renovated by just four hands than a single crew. The wider frames were made to accommodate your housemate. Well, housemate was a loose term as the soft yet rapid thumps echoed through the home.

Enough warning to quickly put up the eggs alongside any other fragile thing. Why? You can thank the large colorful blur that knocked the air out of you for the seventh time this week. "I HAVEN'T BEEN GONE FOR MORE THAN A FEW HOURS!"

Holding you in a hug made of spring-like arms was a vibrantly colored giant jack-in-the-box creature. A large 15' toy whose body was mainly a light blue box that has the classic wind up handle on the back, golden shaped compartments on each side in the form of two stars, two rings, and a heart. Hidden spaces where the five blood red springs which serve as the giant's limbs came out.

Its rectangular feet alongside its large four finger furry paws were equipped with sharp yellow claws. Although they weren't as bad as the cubed head bearing large razor sharp teeth and slightly dilated eyes. Only 90s folk or crazy toy collectors would recognize the giant toy as Playtime Co's Boxy Boo.

Well, if it was a monster that looked ready to eat some poor person whole and not the cuddle bug here. You however knew him under a different title as the large beast gently continues to nuzzle you. "I only been gone for a few hours, Dad."

Yes, the giant toy was just called dad. The Boxy Boo churring up a storm as he hugged you is actually your biological father. Something that would seem impossible if he hadn't been a human made former lab rat by a mad doctor's toy company.

A shit show neither of you wanted to get caught in again. "Let me guess a nightmare about the factory?" He rapidly shook his head. "That Mayfair Watcher's Society podcast we listened to the other night?" He let out an amused snort at that one. "It's that strange reoccurring dream, ain't it?" Dear ol' Boxy Pops gave a small thumbs up.

For the past two weeks, your dad had been plagued with a weird dream. Piercing red eyes that lurk in the forest shadows. A bloody silver blade shone under a crimson moon as you and him were fleeing from something. It always ended the same way. Blurry figures of shadow and light destroying everything as they collide.

The dream scared him shitless every time despite how mild it was to the hell he gone through. You were obviously concerned for Boxy Pops as the nightmare sounds more like a warning. Anyone else would wave this off too if they were unaware that the toy victims of Playtime Co. were telepathically linked to something WAY BIGGER.

Your dad was still connected to 'him' by a tiny thread so whether these dreams were 'his' doing is up in the air. But it was enough to tell that this was a storm is on the horizon. You softly caressed the large toy's cheek trying to ease him.

"Don't worry dad. Whatever is going to happen, we'll get through it together. No matter if it's those bastards or something else entirely... They're gonna get steamrolled." You made his favorite snack, devil eggs, and the both of you watch Shazam together to help him calm down.

Boxy Pops' mind had been damaged ever since Playtime Co made him into a toy. At the start, your dad was closer to an actual father bear than the 'soft shy geek' from what your mother once quoted. Ready to strike anything that got near his cub and bring back questionable food. You helped him recover as many lost memories by reintroducing his favorite things.

Games, food, movies, music, comics to even his favorite animals like the wild cats. You taught your dad sign language so communication was much easier. Could he still talk? Sorta sadly. The bastards had twisted his kind soft voice to a heavily static radio that rumble like a car engine. It hurt for your dad to talk and it hurt your heart just seeing how cruel people could be.

For now, it was best for Boxy Pops to recover by lounging with the cats or help solve puzzles for his favorite videogames. You were going to gather as much info on Playtime Co. and make whatever is left burned to the ground. They hadn't paid enough in blood yet...

Let this be known that Boxy Pops is someone who has difficulty sleeping by himself. You or one of the cats stay next to him as he wouldn't rest with no physical reassurance. The factory fucked him up pretty bad and completely ruin Boxy Pops' previous life.

If he feels something is wrong then your father is quick to alert you. This includes light shaking, poking and licking if it's really urgent. Thus the large scratchy cat like tongue that ran across your face at 3 in the morning was enough to wake up in a sputtering mess.

Boxy Pops was on edge as his eyes were more dilated and arm springs hung back a bit for a quick launch. Something had him ready to slip into attack mode, not good. You immediately got dressed, packed emergency provisions, grab the travel pack, then load up both your shotgun and hand pistol.

The people who experimented on him were a relentless bunch. Folk who wouldn't stop until they get what they want or die. Five years on the move, faking your death, barely getting overseas illegally, making a new identity and build a hidden home by hand sums up just how bad they were.

The forest stood eeriely silent as even the wild cats were on edge. Every mother kept close to their kittens while the males look ready to fight off anything that got too close. Boxy Pops had a unique hand in this peculiar nature as all were hostile enough to attack any trespassers like an organized army. You seen wolves get taken out in minutes at how vicious and calculated the cats were.

Whatever been part of his transition into a toy gave Boxy Pops the ability to communicate with animals to an insane degree, especially felines. You stayed on guard as your dad follow stealthily behind. From where the cats were facing, the disturbance was somewhere up north which is boar territory.

Using his spring limbs, your father had leapt into the trees and kept watch from above. Despite his huge size, all of Playtime Co's experiments were extremely stealthy that even someone as big as him wouldn't make a sound. Traits that would make the most advanced ambush predators blush.

You kept your shotgun steady and night vision goggles on to look through the forest's darkness. It was too empty as nothing made a sound to the lack of fireflies that constantly hang out in these parts. You couldn't help notice the woods slightly shift the deeper you tread inside.

The birch trees somehow bled into dark oak, the ground brush now held thorns alongside foreign berries, and even the area's cool air felt more humid. A small snap of a twig was enough warning to aim your gun at the brush as an armed figure stood there.

It's peculiar inhuman shape and animalistic traits didn't spare it from a buck shot to the head. The body part exploding into bloody chunks as the headless figure hit the ground dead. You carefully approach the slain creature, not missing what looked like black blood stains on the flora.

The possibility of it not being a bear was obvious but this monster is unmistakable to any avid gamer. A Red Bokobolin specifically the Skyward Sword variant. It was easily recognizable from the thorn covered club, open fur vest, crude fur skirt covering tiger print underwear and worn brown boots. Since the Bokobolin's sad eggplant head was currently in smithereens, it had to be around 3'9 as Skyward Sword Link stood around 5'1.

"Holy fuck." You immediately raised your shotgun as Bokobolins were pack monsters. If there's one here then a squad has to be nearby. Legend of Zelda was something you played for your dad as it been his favorite series since childhood. Sadly large furry paws can't work a controller well unless it's a custom made one.

Your instincts were right as your night vision goggles caught even in more of them coming this way. "Did Playtime Co. decide to break trademark claims and bring videogame monsters to life? Or did I get bloody Isekai'd?"

You would ponder more once these monsters were dead. The second Bokobolin jumped from the brush had its heart blown apart by another buckshot. Your finger never leaving the trigger as you fired shot after shot. None of them were the archer variety so the only threat was crude clubs and boom...

You managed to duck in time to avoid the Ice Arrow from above and froze the spot where your head would've been. The one responsible was a Lizalfos but it's the Breath of the Wild variant! Large humanoid horned chameleons both in their wiggly lithe appearance and natural camouflage ability wearing metal armor unlike the more eel-like bandit desert lizards.

It was a silver coat, obvious white scales to blue stripes, which meant this son of a bitch is more dangerous than the others. You quickly shot the bastard down before it could let loose another elemental arrow. This allowed the sheer size of the Bokobolin army to charge in, 50 to at least 100, and show how bad the situation really was.

You would run out of ammo alongside room to fire long before even half these bastards were killed. Boxy Pops needed to show up NOW. Immediately dug into the emergency bag until you pull out the flare gun and fired a red shot high into the air. It's burning hot smokey stream made the horde pause in confusion.

An opening you were gonna use as you began to fire once more. Head, chest, legs, any way to slow them down until help could arrive. If the barrel went out, then it was quickly reloaded. The recoil of the countless buckshot from the shotgun had your arm practically screaming in pain as shells litter the ground alongside monster gore.

It was only a matter of time before the worst horror cliche happened...the damn trip. You fell on your ass as a shotgun shell had rolled under your feet like a sick joke. A big misfortune cause one of the Bokobolins took that moment to charge with its club raise high for a good smack.

You ready to intercept the strike using your shotgun when... "HYAAH!" An eeriely familiar howl of a young man had you quickly duck as a large steel boomerang brutally collided with attacking Bokobolin's face. Perfect opportunity to get a good distance from the monster and watch two blonde swordsmen run towards the horde.

A hand gently touch your shoulder was enough to pull up your goggles so making out the impossible sight wouldn't be hindered. What stood there with the steel boomerang in is the one and only BotW Link. A more accurate version from your opinion as the left side of his lean soft tannish 4'11 frame was marred by severe old burns.

The soft blue hue of his Champion's tunic, long soft blonde hair in a blue ponytail, light beige pants, brown travel boots, the soft blueish glow from the dark metal Sheikah Slate and those ocean blue eyes were realer in person. You kept your cool since you weren't the 'fangirl' stereotype, plus Zelda is more of your dad's thing.

That meant the blonde with the long blue scarf had to be Hyrule Warriors Link and the one wearing the multicolor tunic must be Minish Cap/Four Swords. "Is this a fucking Isekai???" Wild Link look at you like an alien in a conga line with martini in hand. "Kufryh Ryiko?" Oh no. No. No. No. NO. A BLOODY LANGUAGE BARRIER ON TOP OF THIS?!

"Fuck my luck!" You went to reload your shotgun and put the night vision goggles back on. Wild Link been distracted at the peculiar weapon before him that he didn't notice the blue Lizalfos emerging from the tree. That is until you pulled him aside and shot the bastard out it's hiding spot.

"Pay attention!" A loud very familiar roar tore through the fighting forces like shrapnel to a wall. Everyone but you froze as no one could see the source of the sound. They weren't looking above for Boxy Pops fell from the trees and crushed two poor Bokobolins flat under his large frame.

With a vicious roar he bit down on another monster, the beastie was so small that only its feets peek outta the toy's mouth. Your father swallowed the Bokobolin whole in seconds, much to its comrades' horror, and lunge at the rest. "Don't hit my dad."

The blast from your shotgun had shaken the three Links out of their daze as they quickly rejoined the fight. In seconds, the Bokobolin squadron shrunk to miniscule numbers. Your father's spring limbs were a three bladed halberd, every monster in range was gonna get hit either by his claws or springs.

Wild Link had swap his boomerang for a long sword as the boomerang didn't mesh well in close quarters. You blast off heads of any Lizalfos that showed up or Bokobolins who went to sneak attack the Links. The last low budget goblin met its fate gruesomely torn in half by Boxy Pops' jaws as this fight finally came to an end.

It wasn't over though for six more Links had joined the other three. The ones who are still adjusting to the absolute monstrous toy before them and the armed stranger who stood protectively in front of the beast. You moved your weapon to the side but never took a finger off the trigger. The moment felt perfect to test something. With your free hand, you sign to the group a single sentence.

"Care for a ceasefire?"

Yep, you ain't imagining what ya just read. I like to make bizarre, insane or crack crossovers sometimes. Shits n giggles that boggle the mind. Poppy Playtime with Legend of Zelda/Linked Universe felt perfect this time. This takes place at least two weeks after Twilight recovers in LU.

Yes, I'm also trying an actual hand at language barriers. Wild's line is gibberish but he was basically saying 'Weird foreign language.' I went with Boxy Boo for the form Reader's dad is trapped. One is because I like goofy jack-in-the-boxes, two I can make dad pun level nicknames such as Boxy Pops and three Huggy Wuggy or Mommy Legs didn't have what I was looking for in surprises.

Boxy Boo literally hides in his box body to sneak attack. I can write the killer jack-in-the-box trope on a Yiga or something as equally funny. As for the cats, since the toys never left Playtime Co's except when Huggy Wuggy escaped in that one ARG vid, there's no way to tell what else they can do inside a different environment.

Thus talking to animals alongside lethal common felines was made for Boxy Boo. Expect Time and every other responsible Link being so done with the bullshit I'm about to drop on 'em. Also I don't know which Link (not Wind obviously) would be the closest to Reader in a platonic or romantic way so it's up in the air.

That's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you back in Hyrule! Here's Boxy Boo, both monster and toy art alongside his wiki page.

#crossover #fanfic #loz #linked universe related #linked universe #reader insert #tales of sonicasura #sonicasura #legend of zelda #lu #poppy playtime #boxy boo #project playtime #project playtime boxy boo #human reader

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klownkoster · 1 year ago

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FNAF Security Breach oc🤲Her name is Jukebug!! She's the little sister of my partner's oc Beat !! Big thank you to both @sunnzii and @alpacababs for the help with her design!! It gave me so much trouble but you two were a massive help😭

full image/better quality

Some extra stuff under the cut 👇

Given that Beat is her sister, Jukebug LOVES her to pieces!!! And just cannot stand being away from her for too long!! So she's often trying to find ways to get out of the Daycare to find her! And she's done that so many times that she's memorized exit spots and has gotten lost many times doing so, she's done it so much the staff decided to go ahead and program a built-in "map" into her to MAKE SURE she knows how to get too and from Beat's roller rink and back to the Daycare without getting lost, as well as other areas that kids frequent the most But the idiots didn't bother programming an automatic rerouting system for when she strays off the paths by accident :/ so if she strays, it causes the map/GPS system to bug out, and if that happens she's screwed big time cause the poor girl cant see to find her way back, so she gets lost very easily :"(

Plus more notes:

♡ She is 4ft 3in 🙏

♡ Whenever she gets lost and can't find her way back, she tends to sit in one spot and cry until someone finds her and takes her back to either the Daycare or to her sisters roller rink

♡ Outer casing is made of soft rubber/silicone and her sweater is made of extremely soft fabric

♡ Doesn't really like her hair being touched, mostly by those she doesn't know that well(especially not by most staff workers), but if you give her her favorite Chica Fizzy Faz she'll zone out and not really notice anything going on around her until it's empty. She does not have this reaction with other Fizzy Faz drinks. (I assume/headcanon different Fizzy Faz's have different flavors if they don't already)

♡ The headphone jack is mainly for kids that need certain noises and/or music for sleep assistance at naptime

♡ Sun and Moon both are quite protective of her, especially since she's like a child and can't see to really fend for herself most of the time unless it's something already programmed into her, they're often the ones that take her back to the Daycare or to Beat's roller rink when she sneaks out and/or gets lost.

#you can mix and match her outfits too #klowndraws #my art #my oc #Jukebug #fnaf sb #fnaf #security breach #security breach oc #fnaf oc #fnaf security breach

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thevegans · 2 years ago

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Jack fruit Katsu curry and rice noodles.

One of my favorite dishes to make is Jack Fruit Katsu Curry. It's a vegan take on the traditional Japanese dish, and it's incredibly flavorful and satisfying. The recipe is easy to follow and uses simple ingredients that you can find at your local grocery store.

Jack Fruit is the key ingredient in this recipe, and it's a versatile fruit that can be used in many different dishes. It's a great meat substitute because it has a similar texture and can absorb flavors well. The red and yellow bell peppers add a pop of color and sweetness to the dish, and the onion provides a savory flavor. The rice noodles are a perfect addition to this dish and make it a complete meal.

Let's get started on making this delicious Jack Fruit Katsu Curry!

Ingredients

For the Katsu Curry:

1 can of young jackfruit, drained and rinsed

1 red bell pepper, sliced

1 yellow bell pepper, sliced

1 onion, sliced

2 tablespoons of oil

2 tablespoons of curry powder

1 tablespoon of garam masala

1 teaspoon of cumin

1 teaspoon of cinnamon

1 teaspoon of turmeric

1 teaspoon of salt

1 teaspoon of black pepper

1 can of coconut milk

For the Rice Noodles:

1 pack of rice noodles

4 cups of water

1 teaspoon of salt

Instructions

Katsu Curry:

Step 1: In a large pan, heat 2 tablespoons of oil over medium heat. Add the sliced onion and sauté until translucent, about 5 minutes.

Step 2: Add the sliced red and yellow bell peppers to the pan and sauté for another 5 minutes.

Step 3: Add the drained and rinsed jackfruit to the pan and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Step 4: In a small bowl, mix together the curry powder, garam masala, cumin, cinnamon, turmeric, salt, and black pepper.

Step 5: Add the spice mixture to the pan and stir until the jackfruit and vegetables are coated.

Step 6: Pour in the can of coconut milk and stir well. Bring the mixture to a boil, then reduce the heat and let it simmer for 15-20 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Step 7: While the curry is simmering, prepare the rice noodles.

Rice Noodles:

Step 1: In a large pot, bring 4 cups of water to a boil. Add 1 teaspoon of salt to the water.

Step 2: Once the water is boiling, add the pack of rice noodles and cook for 2-3 minutes, stirring occasionally.

Step 3: Drain the noodles and rinse them under cold water.

Assembly:

Step 1: Divide the rice noodles between 4 bowls.

Step 2: Ladle the jackfruit katsu curry over the rice noodles.

Step 3: Serve hot and enjoy!

This Jack Fruit Katsu Curry recipe is a great vegan alternative to the traditional Japanese dish. The jackfruit has a meaty texture and absorbs flavours well, making it the perfect substitute for meat. The red and yellow bell peppers add a pop of colour and sweetness to the dish, while the onion provides a savoury flavour. The rice noodles are a great addition and make it a complete meal. This dish is easy to make and uses simple ingredients that you can find at your local grocery store. Give it a try and enjoy!

#food #plant based #vegan #what vegans eat #foodpics #vegancommunity #foodie #veganism #vegano #vegetarian #currystagram #katsu #veganfood #foodblogger #crispy tofu #i love tofu #meat free #food pics #noodles

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mooifyourecows · 2 years ago

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moo i turned 21 last week do u have any fun funky (preferably sweet/sour) alcohol related recs? u wrote open tab i have a feeling u have Knowledge ™️

turns out i hate wine and twisted tea so far. smirnoff ice screwdrivers are kinda bearable. that is all i know

happy late birthday! i'm happy you were born!

well, first off, please drink responsibly! it's really fun to get drunk and all but make sure you're taking care of your body. always drink in moderation and be sure to drink lots of water! Open Tab is very much fiction and it's inadvisable to drink as much as they do 👍 it's okay to get drunk every once in a while, even to the point of barfing, hey go for it, but DON'T make a habit out of it. people love to downplay the seriousness of alcoholism but it is very much not good and can really fuck with your body if you don't get your consumption under control

okay now that i've done my responsible big brother PSA...

there's a lot of different types of wine, so if you've just tried one or two, don't give up! my preferred wines are cabernet sauvignon or riesling, but neither of them are especially sweet (maybe riesling). cabernet sauvignon is a red that's really full bodied, kinda black cherry-ish, while riesling is more acidic, think more green apple-ish. Both of them very much taste like Wine though so if you're looking for something that's more fruity and smooth like juice, i'd recommend a zinfandel or moscato. Sangria is also a fruitier choice 👌

for wine coolers, you can't really go wrong. Jack Daniels has several flavors in their country cocktails and every one i've tried has been pretty good. even their black jack cola, and i'm not the biggest fan of jack and coke. I'd recommend their peach one though.

Smirnoff Ice is okay but i prefer Seagrams or Mikes Hard Lemonade. Flavors I like from Seagrams are their Jamaican Me Happy, Bahama Mama, and Calypso Colada. For Mikes Hard Lemonade (or Harder if you want something higher in alcohol content), I like their mango, strawberry, and cranberry.

there's also Steel Reserve. all their flavors are pretty good but my two fave are pineapple and orange soda

if you wanna dip your toes in beer, maybe give hard ciders or apple ales a try? i used to drink Redds apple ale, specifically the Wicked apple ale, which were good but more on the sour side. Some pumpkin ciders/ales are also really good but i haven't drunk them enough to be able to recommend specific brands. i had one this past fall season that was DELICIOUS but can't remember what it was 🤔

if you're looking for some liquor, there are quite a few that are pretty sweet or sour to drink just on their own. Disaronno is SUPER tasty, sweet like candy, but it can be a bit pricey. Though it's amaretto so there's probably cheaper alternatives... i never tried them.... because i really like the Disaronno bottles... they're classy and cool.... Schnapps are a good bet for taste. I'm partial to peppermint schnapps because the crisp, cool taste disguises the sting of the alcohol whereas other flavors might not so much. Then there's the creamy stuff that's great for mixing in coffee or hot chocolate like Kahlua, Godiva liqueur, rumchata, baileys, etc.

Flavored vodka can give you sweet or sour, depending on the flavor. personally, i'm not big into it, but i liked it a lot when i first started drinking. You WILL taste the alcohol though, so if you're pretty averse to that, then you might not enjoy vodka.

if you like coconut then coconut rum is 👍

Then there's the 99 series, if you're looking for something strong. I've drunk enough 99 Bananas to fill a boat. (don't follow my example, drink responsibly, too much alcohol consumption is bad for your health okay be safe)

honestly, a good way to figure out what types of liquor you like is to buy those little mini bottles at the liquor store. just pick out a bunch of them and have a little taste testing party. you never know what you'll like! and if you don't like it, hey, at least you didn't buy a whole bottle, right?

for cocktails that you might order at a bar/restaurant, here's a few simple, classic recs for sour and sweet:

Sour: margarita, daiquiri (classic or strawberry are both good), mojito, whiskey sour, lemon drop

Sweet: white russian, sex on the beach, cosmo, mudslide, grasshopper, mai tai

well, that's all i got. everyone experiences alcohol differently, so don't worry if you don't enjoy it as much as you think you should. you don't have to like it. you don't have to drink it. don't let anybody pressure you into drinking anything you don't want to drink or MORE than you want to drink. you can have fun without it! only ugly losers with tiny smooth brains pressure people into drinking when they don't want to 😤

Stay safe, drink responsibly, have fun, don't forget to eat and stay hydrated (with water)(not more alcohol)

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whitepolaris · 4 months ago

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The Wolf Creek Inn Still Howls

The Wolf Creek Inn was built in 1883 and served for many years as a stagecoach stop along the sixteen-day trip from San Francisco to Portland. Somehow the inn survived the end of the stagecoaches, the arrival of the railroads, and even the invention of the superhighway. It hosted simply folk, like gold miners and merchants, as well as the rich and famous, people like Jack London and Clark Gable. Even though the Wolf Creek Inn is no longer along main travel routes, it is Oregon's oldest operating inn, hosting living guests-and maybe old guests who have not checked out.

Wolf Creek, located a few miles north of Ashland, has been a waypoint for travelers since the 1850s. Many people saw a lot of wolves in the area, and they named the stream, and eventually the little town that grew up around it, Wolf Creek. Wolf Creek grew up after gold was discovered in northern California and southern Oregon, as miners and the people who served their needs traveled between claims. One of their stops was the Six Bit House, built near the site of the present-day Wolf Creek Inn.

According to legends, the Six Bit House got its name when some gold miners decided to hang a Native American who was at the inn, drinking. They placed the young man on a horse under a tree, with a noose around his neck and the other end of the rope tied to a large branch. Before they could sat at the house, the owner of the inn came running out toward them, yelling. He ordered them not to hang the man until he collected the seventy-five cents, or six bits, that the doomed man owed as a bar bill. They searched him, found the money, and then hanged the unfortunate man.

The Six Bit House was eventually abandoned, and guests instead came to stay at the Wolf Creek Tavern as it was known then. Henry Smith built it in 1883 and it was much nicer than the infamous Six Bit house. He found many skilled craftsmen and paid them very well for building him a beautiful restaurant and inn. Even after the gold ran out and the stagecoaches stopped running, the inn survived. Railroads have passed through Wolf Creek since the 1850s, but in 1887, the Oregon and California Railroad lines began stopping in Wolf Creek. When the old highway was built in the 1920s, it passed through Wolf Creek, and many tired drivers stopped there. Business was so good that the owner built a wing of guest rooms in 1925.

Following World War II, the pace in America became faster, and more people traveled between Oregon and California by airplane. When I-5 was built, fewer cars stopped here, and business shrank. Fortunately, the State of Oregon purchased the Wolf Creek Inn in the 1970s and restored it. The inn, decorated in early-twentieth-century style, is now open year-round. It attracts guests who want to relive an era with less stress and more flavor. Perhaps the historic aura around Wolf Creek has kept some past guests and employees around.

With a name life Wolf Creek, there are many legends surrounding the town and inn. The most shocking tale involves werewolves and, oddly, vampires. Periodically stories spread across the Internet of werewolves hunting or haunting the hills above Wolf Creek. On Web site devoted to cataloging haunted places across the country stated that many people have seen a vampiric batlike creature, with blood dripping out of its mouth, in the vicinity. It stated that the creature was seen along the nearby highway, where it chased cars and attacked a couple of hikers, leaving marks on their necks. So far, Weird Oregon has not found any newspaper accounts that confirm this story, but believes that there is something at the Wolf Creek Inn.

In 2007, Cougar and Fox from the Shamans and Spirit Warrior Society, spent a few days at the inn, investigating the stories of hauntings. They experienced several different paranormal events, and may have even activated dormant hauntings.

Cougar and Fox spent one night in the Clark Gable suite. In the past, many guests and the staff reported smelling cigar smoke in the men's room, near the bathroom of the Clark Gable suite. The Wolf Creek Inn has been smoke-free for many years, but it happened often enough that they could not blame it on someone breaking the rules. When they arrived, Cougar and Fox walked around the hotel, and Cougar smelled smoke in the same area, before anyone told him about the legends of ghostly smokers. Later they smelled a sweet perfume in their suite, and Cougar briefly saw a figure in their bathtub, though he could not tell if it was a man or woman.

People have seen a man reflected in the mirror in the men's bathroom on the second floor. Some romantics believe that this may be the ghost of Jack London, who once stayed and wrote here, though it is not proven. The innkeepers a radio in their office. IN the past, the staff rented the radio to guests for an extra fee. More recently, the staff watched the radio dials move on their own until someone taped the dials down so they would not move anymore.

An earlier guest who stayed in Room 5 reported seeing a female apparition come into his room. She shifted his blankets and messaged his feet before she disappeared. She may have been the same ghostly woman Cougar saw in various places in the inn. He saw her once in Room 5, and described her as being in her early twenties and wearing a blue and white dress with a short stand-up collar and a white apron. Later he had a vision of her with some kind of cloth around her neck, falling or jumping down a flight of stairs. He speculated that these were the servant's stairs in the back of the inn. He believed that she could have been a servant girl who stayed only because she desperately needed a job. Other people believe that she may have been the daughter of Henry Smith, who is supposed to have committed suicide in the Wolf Creek Inn.

Perhaps the most frightening vision Cougar saw was outside the Wolf Creek Inn. About a hundred yards away from the present inn, he found an old tree that he believed marked the site of the Six Bit House. Cougar saw a vision of a young Native American man, sitting on a ghostly horse. The man had a rope around his neck, but strangely, the other end of the rope did not end on one of the tree branches. Instead it was hanging in the air. After a closer look at the tree, Cougar saw where a large branch had been sawn off, in a position such that in the past, the rest of the limb must have grown to where the rope hung on empty air. The vision lasted a few seconds then flashed forward to the man's body hanging from the tree for several days as a tourist attraction.

Shamans Cougar and Fox saw and experienced many other strange things at the Wolf Creek Inn-too many to list here.

#type read #weird oregon #long ass read

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sailingshellsgames · 3 years ago

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Demo Link

☀️ Play now ☀️

Other Links

☀️ Patreon ☀️

☀️ Ko-fi ☀️

☀️FAQ☀️

Leas: City of the Sun, an interactive fiction game

Enter the city of Leas, where humans dwell in safety behind city walls while strange and powerful Fey roam the wilds. Play as one of a rare few skilled enough to explore the outside world, an agent of Den Zarel.

After making a dangerous discovery you are sent on a mission that unfolds into an adventure that will unearth more than expected, and more than you alone can handle.

Fortunately, you’ll have help along the way: a lifelong friend hiding a dangerous secret, a mysterious and taciturn rogue, and an eccentric and charming mage unite under your banner to help save your city, and possibly, the world.

ROs

🧡 Keoanai Hakana

Personality - An agent of Den Zarel and MC’s oldest friend. Capable, strong, and stoic, with a tendency to get lost in thought. Protective of the MC. The child of a human-Fey union, Keo has seen a great deal of both Fey and human society, and struggles to find the point of balance between them.

Physical Appearance - Warm brown eyes flecked with gold, tan skin, dark hair usually pulled back in a messy bun, muscled.

🧡 Rin (last name unknown)

Personality - Snarky, clever, and sarcastic to a fault, but fiercely loyal. Not much is known about Rin’s background - and Rin, meanwhile, seems reluctant to share much. Comes from Den Luana of Leas’ sister-city, Dalusin.

Physical Appearance - Striking silver eyes, pale skin, black hair, intentionally nondescript clothing, aside from some silver rings and a small cloth tied around the neck.

🧡 Wren Iolenas

Personality - Wren is witty, charismatic, and wildly intelligent. A traveling archivist of great renown, new to the city of Leas yet already surprisingly well-connected. Silver tongued when dealing with the nobility and always ready with a smile when MC wants to talk.

Physical Appearance - Sharp brown eyes, deep brown skin, dark hair, shimmering gold tattoos along their hands and forearms, small scars on their fingers.

Highlights

Choose your gender (including nonbinary) and sexuality

Three romanceable love interests (LI genders determined based on player sexuality, all routes available to all players), and a no-romance route

Choose your specialty within your Den. Play as a prodigy, conjurer, diplomat, or focus on a bit of everything as a jack-of-all-trades, or specialize in nothing at all

Train skills and set your personality through choices

No wrong choices: skill checks can be failed, and the content and flavor of the story changed, but ultimately there is no “game over” screen, just different endgame outcomes.

Author Notes

Thank you for reading through this post! If you choose to check out the demo I hope you enjoy playing it as much as I did writing it. Either way, I’m happy to have you here :)

Game is currently in-progress, and will be submitted to Hosted Games when complete. You can check out the hosted games forum post here

#Leas: City of the Sun #CYOA #choose your own adventure #Hosted Games #romance #fantasy #game #leas #interactive fiction #games #IF #choice game #romance game

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fortuositywritings · 3 years ago

Text

I Said No (Wanda x R): Pt 8

Summary: Did someone order a fluff stuffed pizza with extra cheese?

Warnings: Language, also a bit of violence

The following day starts as most have the past week, only this time you are not dreading waking up early in the morning for a hike aka jogging at an incline with Nat. In fact, you wake up kind of pumped for it and decide to forego the usual coffee. Nat looks at you like you are crazy. You shrug. “Not all of us need caffeine to live, Natasha.”

But you do, you find out mid-hike.

“Fuck me!” you groan, dragging behind Nat.

“No, thanks. You’ve got Wanda for that,” Nat quips. When you don’t reply, she continues, “What? No comment?”

“I’m saving my energy. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. If I die here from exhaustion, hit me with a rock or something. Make it look like a cooler death,” you say. She laughs. “What happened to not needing coffee?”

“Caffeineless-Me is a delusional me. Don’t ever listen to her,” you huff.

Luckily, you smell coffee when you get back to the house. You hear voices in the kitchen and make a dramatic entrance. Clint, Pietro, and Sam’s conversation halts at your interruption. Finding Clint responsible for the coffee, you butter him up in exchange for the coffee cup he hands you. “You know, I told Laura, you were it. I said ‘Laura, you’ll never find another like this one. A king among simple men.’ True story.” Used to your antics, Clint ignores you but Pietro and Sam laugh.

You spend the afternoon at the arcade with Wanda, Pietro, and Peter. You in fact do beat Pietro at skeeball, rubbing your win in his face. He beats you at everything else. It’s hard to be a sore loser though when you are too busy having fun and entertaining Wanda.

Wanda pulls you all into a photo booth. The group does their best to fit in what is meant to be a two person booth. Wanda ends up on your lap, you sitting next to Pietro, and Peter sticking his head into the frame. You shoo the boys out after the group photos, wanting a strip of you and Wanda. Despite the free space, Wanda stays seated on your lap, not that you mind it. The first two photos are silly. You kiss her cheek for the third and simply smile for the last one in which Wanda sports a blush looking at you.

You ask Wanda if she is ready to go to the bookstore yet, not forgetting what you promised. She refrains from saying yes when a game calls her attention. She says you can leave after one more game. Wanda challenges you to Guitar Hero and the results are embarrassing. You stare at her score in shock. You refuse to believe it. “What? There is no way! How?” She giggles when you turn your face to her with your hands on your cheeks. “No wonder you’re so good with your hands.”

She blushes at your comment. “Do you play guitar?” You ask, but before she can confirm or deny, you stop her, “Wait, no. I don’t want to know. ‘Cause if you do, that’s too attractive and we can’t have that.”

“Why not?” She tilts her head to the side.

“Because it will ruin our dynamic, You see, we both bring certain things to the table. You bring in the kind hearted, easy on the eyes superhero thing to the table. Me, I bring in the funny, cute, one year away from graduating college kid thing. My two years playing the trumpet as a child could never match even the thought of you holding a guitar,” you explain.

Wanda looks at you curiously. She smiles cheekily, before saying, “I’ll have to play for you someday then.” She laughs when you groan saying she ruined it all and tugs you by the hand to where the prizes are. You both trade your tickets in for small inflatable sledge hammers that you immediately use against each other standing off to the side of the prizes booth. You feel the employee who helped you out stare at you both and feel like you are getting in trouble, so you stop hitting Wanda.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to stare,” the employee says. “The two of you just make a really cute couple.”

“Oh,” you say surprised, but you don’t correct him, unbeknownst to you, making Wanda suppress a smile. “Thanks.”

“Come on, you promised me a bookstore,” Wanda says, taking your hand and pulling you toward the exit. You spend an hour in the cute bookstore, which Wanda could have easily made two but she took pity on you, seeing you get a little restless walking around the store in circles. She leaves the store with two new books in hand that you had insisted on buying and a smile on her face as you hold the door open for her.

“I would say ‘I got you next time’ but I wouldn’t want to force you to actually read words on paper,” she jokes.

You roll your eyes at her playful remark. “No, we wouldn’t want that.”

“So, how about we get some ice cream instead?” she offers, hoping to spend a little more time with you out in the town. Your ears perk up at those words. “Now we’re talking, Maximoff!”

“That reminds me. You still haven’t told me your last name.”

“And I’m not talking.” You mime zipping your lips and throwing away the key. Wanda jokes, “Well that’s a first. That was the only key, right?”

Wanda laughs when you roll your eyes and eagerly take the bag with her books out of her hand to carry it instead, replacing it with your own as you practically drag her to the ice cream shop. She tries not to react when halfway to the shop you interlace your fingers and smile at her, but her heart doesn’t get the message.

Tanya smiles when she sees you both back again at the shop. She raises an eyebrow, looking at your hands in question. You catch her look and shake your head in denial at Tanya while Wanda is busy looking at the flavors of ice cream. Tanya purses her lips disapprovingly and you nearly groan. Wanda turns to you and asks if you know what you want, unaware of the silent conversation that occurred before her.

You tell her to order hers first. Although you see her eyeing the strawberry flavor for a good amount of time, she orders the cotton candy flavor. You look at her surprised. “What? Maybe I want to try something different.”

“Well, in that case, Tanya, I will have two scoops of the strawberry on a cone, please and thank you,” you order. Wanda gives you the same look you’d given her, so you decide to throw her words back at her. “What? Maybe I want to try something different.”

Wanda pays for your ice creams, which of course Tanya would not let slide without commentary. “She’s making you pay for the ice cream? It’s no wonder Y/N stays single. You would think she’d know how to treat a lady.” Tanya shakes her head at you, making you scoff. Wanda laughs but defends you. “She does. This is a small thank you for how well she’s actually done that.”

“Yeah, Tanya! You hear that? I treat people well,” you reiterate as you take your prepared cone from Tanya. “I even did as you said and took her to the fair.” As if it is so unbelievable, Tanya looks at Wanda for confirmation and looks nearly impressed when Wanda nods. You add to pick on Wanda, “All for her to dance with someone else for most of the night.”

This time she scoffs and you try to suppress your smile at how easy you could rile her up. “It was one song,” she defends herself. When she sees that you’re just pulling her leg, she huffs, “You’re annoying,” and goes to sit at the small table by the entrance. Tanya speaks up when you just stand there looking after Wanda with a smile. “Don’t leave her to eat alone now.”

Tanya’s voice startles you out of your trance and you make your way to sit across from Wanda. “It was two songs,” you say, continuing the banter. Wanda retorts before trying her ice cream, “Two. One. What’s the difference?”

“He got one more song with you than I did,” you shrug. You see her make a face of disappointment at the flavor she chose. She replies, “It could have been none with him if someone just asked earlier.”

“Noted. I will let someone know and pass on the message for you,” you tease, earning you a light kick under the table from Wanda while you start with your ice cream. You can only watch her struggle to eat her ice cream and look at yours longingly for so long, before you eventually just snatch hers from her hand.

“Hey! I was eating that,” she complains.

“Oh, is that what you were doing? That was a very sad attempt at best. Here, try again,” you say and hand her the rest of your strawberry ice cream. She tries to hand yours back. “I’m not going to take your cone. It’s not the one I ordered.”

You shove the rest of the ice cream you stole into your mouth and eat it as quickly as you can. Wanda stares at you in shock. You try not to make a face at the brain freeze you get. “Well, I just finished yours so now you have no choice.”

Wanda giggles. “You have a brain freeze, don’t you?”

Nothing gets past this woman. You try to deny it anyway. “Nope. Brain warm, actually.”

You don’t fail to make her laugh. She thanks you and you smile as she finishes the strawberry ice cream. You decide to head back to the arcade before the guys get worried. You are surprised they have yet to call or text to ask where you and Wanda were. Wanda says she wouldn’t be surprised if they did not even notice your absence.

Someone spots you making your way out of the ice cream shop with Wanda and decides to approach you. “Well, well, well. Look who it is,” a loud voice taunts you, making you and Wanda turn your heads to see a guy your age and not so much taller than Wanda approach you. You know him as Abby’s (grocery store lady’s daughter) ex-boyfriend.

You don’t try to delude yourself into thinking this exchange could be an exchange of simple pleasantries especially given your history and the condescending sneer he throws your way. You huff, mumbling under your breath, “Never move to a small town, Wanda.”

She gives you a questioning look but you ignore it as the ex-boyfriend stands before you both. You give him an obviously fake smile, acknowledging his presence. “Jack,” you say tiredly, not wanting to give anyone the impression you want to actually interact with him. He, on the other hand, has a bone to pick with you and does not plan to let you off easily.

“Y/N, I see some things never change.” He laughs bitterly, giving Wanda the once over. Not appreciating this, you try to avert his attention back to you and speak in a more fed up tone. “What do you want?”

“What? I can’t say hi to your little girlfriend? You were always so eager to say hello to mine. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t show the same courtesy,” he says, scorn clear in his voice. You really do not have it in you to put up with him and the mess you made that you never dealt with, but you’ve had enough of this biting you in the ass at every corner in this town.

“Look, what I did wasn’t cool. I know, okay? I’m genuinely sorry for not taking your feelings into consideration or talking to you about it before and ignoring the whole thing after it happened. Alright? Can we just move on from this?” you ask, sincerely. Jack looks at you in shock as you await his answer, wanting nothing but to finally move past this mess. Wanda on her end is impressed by your ability to recognize a mistake and apologize. You can feel her looking at you and Jack notices it too, the act riling him up more than anything.

When Jack saw you, he finally found his chance to let everything he was holding back out and seeing you with someone else only assured him he was right about you being this asshole who just goes around stealing people’s girlfriends. He was not expecting an apology. Although it seems to be sincere, it still does not satisfy him and seeing the girl you’re with looking at you the way she is because of it just ticks him off.

So he doesn’t accept your apology. Instead, he turns to Wanda. “It’s a little late for apologies, L/N. Hey, sweetheart. Some advice, best go apologize to your boyfriend before it’s too late, ‘cause whatever you think this is,” he says waving between you and Wanda, “it’s not gonna last.”

Trying to form some semblance of a safety blanket against his fiery gaze, you pull Wanda to stand behind you. Now you’re feeling very irritated. You’re not going to hit him or anything of that nature. God knows you would only hurt yourself. You’ve always strayed away from getting into fights. Besides, why bruise your fists when you could bruise his ego?

“Hey, assface. What do you know about lasting? Last I heard you weren’t doing too well with that. Some advice for you,” you taunt him, using the same tone he did with Wanda, “when you are finally doing something right, which you’ll know since Abby’s not really a quiet one, give her neck a little squeeze and-” You snap smugly. “She can thank me later.”

The whole time you were talking, you could practically see steam coming out of his ears. It’s logical to stay clear when you see the signs of a volcano about to erupt, but when you are standing two feet away from the danger zone, it’s a little hard to avoid getting hurt. You see it coming but you are not quick enough to dodge it. Suddenly, your ass is on the sidewalk, vision impaired as your hand covers the left side of your face that is throbbing in pain. Wanda would say her vision is also impaired as all she sees is red. Not caring if anyone sees, she uses her magic to hold him by the throat, red wisps tightening around his neck. She sees the panic in his eyes but doesn’t ease up.

“Don’t you ever lay a hand on her again. In fact, from now on you don’t talk to her unless she’s speaking to you. Don’t look at her unless she calls your name,” Wanda threatens him, her voice deadly calm, you would almost define it as soothing. Jack wouldn’t. “You know who I am, don’t you?” Jack nods to the best of his abilities, starting to feel light headed. “If you even think about touching her again, I’ll know.”

She releases her magical hold. He coughs, bringing back oxygen into his lungs. Jack sees the red fade from the witch’s eyes but her stare still holds a fire. Not wanting to enrage the witch any further, he sprints away as soon as she says, “Leave.”

As soon as he is out of sight, Wanda turns to check on you. She finds you already on your feet but your hand is still over your face. She pries your hand away and sees the damage, a bruise already forming over your cheek. You flinch when she prods it gently. Wanda gives you a questioning look when you unexpectedly giggle.

“Sorry, it’s just. Nat always said my big mouth would get me into trouble like this one day. I was really hoping she would be wrong about this one,” you explain, looking away from her but still giggling. Wanda doesn’t find it funny. She gently takes your chin to face her. “It’s not your fault. He had no right to lay a finger on you.”

Wanda’s intense stare doesn’t waver. It’s almost demanding you to understand that what happened can’t be brushed off as a joke and it works. Your mind replays the events and you feel a lump in your throat. Wanda brushes a tear away from your cheek. You hadn’t been aware of the tears forming in your eyes. The sound of a car passing by snaps you out of your emotional state. You haven’t had a good cry in a long while, but like hell will you allow yourself to break down on the sidewalk in front of the ice cream shop where you used to work.

You chase away the tears and clear your throat. Today was a great day for the most part; you weren’t going to let this bump in your trail keep you from continuing on to have a great day and ending it on a good note. Your eyes are a vault of tears, and though you know one day that door is going to open and possibly drown you, today would not be that day.

You pull away from Wanda’s touch but before she can say anything about it you hold that hand in yours. “Thank you. I’m lucky you were here.” You avoid cringing at how your voice breaks halfway through, evidence of the lump in your throat you cleared away. You manage a small smile instead.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I hope I didn’t frighten you,” Wanda says, suddenly embarrassed at her quick tempered reaction. This brings out a genuine giggle out of you. “Are you kidding me? Frighten me? The only scary thing about your reaction was how attractive I found it!”

You can tell Wanda doesn’t believe you, searching your face for any sign that you may be lying and saying this just to humor her. “No, seriously. His pants were wet out of fear. My pants were wet in an entirely different way,” you press. She laughs with glowing red cheeks. As the color fades, you and she decide to head back to the arcade after you refused her offer of getting you something cold at the store to rest against your cheek.

Pietro and Peter didn’t notice you had left the arcade, but they do notice your bruised cheek quickly. After dismissing their concerns, you ask if they were ready to head back. They say they still have to trade their tickets in, so you let them go do that. It isn’t too long until you are back to the car.

It turns out you are the only one in the car with a license, but you’re not feeling up to driving back to the house. Peter looks nervous at the prospect of driving, barely having taken two lessons at school, so he isn’t going to drive. Wanda wants to sit by you, so she lets Peter sit up front. That leaves Pietro to drive.

Big mistake.

You make it home in one piece with your bruised cheek, a massive headache, and a date with the church on Sunday after promising God you would go if you make it back home alive. Pietro brakes hard when pulling up right behind Nat’s car. Luckily, he didn't hit her car. You didn’t need to survive Pietro’s wild car ride, just so Nat could kill you after.

The twins are arguing. “God, Wanda. No one likes a backseat driver,” Pietro says as he puts the car in park and takes the key out of the ignition. Wanda yells, “No, but I’m sure we would all like to live to see past our 20’s and Peter past high school!”

At the mention of his name, Peter finally opens his eyes and loosens his tight grip on his seatbelt. “Oh, we’re here? I, um, have to go to the bathroom.” He excuses himself before basically ripping the door open and running into the house on shaky legs. Pietro also storms out of the car but more so in irritation from his sister.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asks you, taking off her seatbelt. You unbuckle yours and laugh to ease her concerns. “Yeah, just give me a moment. I don’t think my life is done flashing before my eyes yet.”

Wanda giggles as you act out seeing your life replaying in your mind. “Okay, almost done. Exercise with Nat, board games, seeing you naked.” You laugh when she punches your arm. “Arcade, your brother almost killing us all, and finished. Wow, I lived a pretty good life.”

She shakes her head at your silliness, before practically pulling you out of the car. Most of everyone is in the living room when you come inside. You guess your bruise must be very noticeable, your cousin gasping upon seeing your face. She rushes to your side with the help of Clint and sees the damage.

“Y/N, what happened?” she asks, a motherly type of concern slipping into her tone.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.” You thank Nat when she sits you down and helps place an ice pack on your injury.

“It looks pretty bad, kid,” Clint says, not helping ease the concern on his wife’s or his best friend’s face.

“You should have seen the other guy,” you say, acting like you actually did anything other than stare mouth agape as Wanda took care of Jack. The disbelief on everyone’s face when you said that, including Sam’s, was insulting. You scoff, “Okay, ouch. I could have taken care of business if Wanda wasn’t there, thank you very much.”

“So, Wanda was there?” Nat pries and you tell them everything. Laura thanks Wanda for doing what she did and Wanda, being of humble heart, claims it goes unsaid that she would do that for any of them and there was no need to thank her. Nat doesn’t say ‘I told you so’ but she tells you it’s time to learn self-defense as she wants you to quote unquote “be prepared next time god forbid something like this happens again”, which to you was another way of saying ‘I told you so’,

Nat says she will personally see to giving you your first lesson tomorrow. Clint laughs at the thought and suddenly everyone is amped to watch Nat teach you some moves in the morning, inviting themselves to be your audience as if embarrassing yourself in front of Natasha was not going to be enough. Everyone leaves you alone to get ready to sleep after that.

After changing into your pjs, you pull out your phone and scroll through your camera roll sitting on the couch. You have at least fifty or so new photos of just today. You smile as you watch the video you recorded of Wanda and Pietro playing Dance Dance Revolution. Watching them interact today, you are reminded of you and Laura and Nat and if their bond is anything like yours, you are happy that Wanda has someone like that in her life.

Wanda comes downstairs to check up on you before turning in for the night. She hears you before she sees you, your giggles cutting through the air. She follows the sound, curious as to what has you in such spirits. When she is close enough, Wanda sees you are laughing at something playing on your phone.

“What are you watching?” Wanda asks from behind you.

“Just some of the stuff I recorded today. Come look.” You invite her over.

Leaning over your shoulder, she finds out it is a video of her and her brother playing the dancing game at the arcade. She fails to see what you find so funny but as the video plays on, you kept zooming in and out of Wanda’s face as she pouts every time she missteps but the look of determination never wavering.

You think it’s a cute video but you aren’t surprised when Wanda lunges for your phone in an attempt to take it and delete the video. You lean forward away from Wanda on time so that she cannot reach it. She groans, “Delete it.”

“Mmm, no.” You shake your head and laugh when Wanda wastes her energy to maneuver around the couch to take the phone away only for you to hide it behind your back away from Wanda’s hands. She looks down at you unimpressed. “Y/N, do you really think that’s going to work? I can take it with a wave of my hand.”

“Tsk tsk tsk. Always relying on your magic. Afraid you can’t get it without twirling your fingers?” you shoot back with a smirk. Your cockiness is short lived as you see Wanda sport the same look of determination she wore in the video you took. She surprises you by settling onto your lap, basically straddling you. She holds you by the shoulders. You nearly whimper when she leans into your ear and whispers, “I’ll show you twirling my fingers.”

She leans away from your ear and looks you right in the eye as one hand begins to wander down your chest. You hold your breath when she gets to your belly button. You should have known better, misreading the smirk on her face. It all takes a turn when she brings her other hand down and begins to tickle you.

You try fighting her off with one hand, keeping the other with your phone behind your back, but she’s relentless. You flail around and you end up lying on the couch, Wanda still on top of you. You can’t help the tear that slips and you take that as your cue to beg her to stop. “Mercy! Mercy! Stop!”

Wanda eases up on the tickling, giving you time to catch your breath, but she makes no move to get off of you nor to actually take your phone away. She rests her hands on your stomach and watches you, amused when you wipe away your tear.

“That wasn’t nice,” you breathe out. She chuckles. You stare at her as if it is your turn to gaze at her in wonder. She takes you by surprise again when she asks, “Can I kiss you?”

She’s kissed you before. Hell, you’ve done a lot more than that, so you’re wondering why she’s even asking at this point. At the confusion on your face, she explains, “I mean, can I kiss you just to kiss you?”

Finally understanding what she is asking, you sit up and give her your permission. “You can kiss me whenever you want. It doesn’t have to lead to anything.” She hesitates to move so as a show of faith you peck her lips, startling her. “See?”

Wanda smiles and leans forward to kiss you. It’s a slow but still rather chaste kiss. It takes your breath away and when she pulls back she giggles as your lips unconsciously chase after hers. She gives you what your lips were seeking for, pulling you further into her by your neck and tangling her hands in your hair. You are kissing slowly but then you’re not when you slip your hands under her shirt to grip her waist. You pull away and kiss down her neck.

Wanda starts to feel hot. She doesn’t know when she started to grind onto you, but her hips are actively working to find some friction to relieve the feeling that’s bubbled up. You’re both wearing too many clothes, she thinks. She pushes you away and goes to take off her shirt, but when she had pushed you, you’d come to your senses. You stop her and pull her shirt back down.

“As much as I’d like to, Clint and Nat seeing me in boxers haunts me to this day. I don’t want to imagine what they’d do if someone saw us less than decent on the couch,” you explain.

“Oh,” she says, almost a little dejectedly, but Wanda understands. She honestly forgot they were in the living room, open for anyone to accidentally walk in on them. You crack a joke at her sounding so bummed. “Sorry if I gave the idea that I’d be comfortable putting it all out there for show. I don’t know what kind of things you and your ex-robo-boyfriend liked to do, but not everyone can be as free spirited.”

Knowing what comes next after a joke like that, you are quick to grab her wrists before she punches your arm. “Or as violent,” you add, laughing when she pouts at not getting her way. You wrap your arms around her before falling back to lie on the couch. Wanda stretches out her legs to get more comfortable, which is hard to do given your arms are still wrapped around her holding her arms down as well.

“You’re the worst,” she mumbles into your neck. You laugh. “Hey, don’t start comparing me to your exes. It’s hard to compete with a lab-produced man. He’s probably over six feet tall and can do long division in a blink. Probably does the cheesy things you like, like serenading you and lipsyncs as the song actually plays from his mouth.”

Your arms loosen up as you speak, allowing Wanda to shift more so beside you. Wanda giggles at your rambling and throws an arm around your stomach. “He’s not an Alexa, Y/N.”

“Are you sure? Or you just never tried saying ‘Vision, play Summer by Calvin Harris’?” She bites your shoulder instead of swatting at you. “Ow. What kind of name is Vision anyway? I mean that can only mean he’s packing some serious stuff cause moaning out ‘Vision’ is just not it, you know? I mean, it’s better than ‘Brad’ but honestly most anything is better than Brad.”

“Ugh!” Wanda lets out in frustration and a hint of embarrassment. Her face turns pink but she tries to hide it behind her hand. She says something else you don’t catch as it’s muffled by her palm. You grab her hand and move her arm back to its original position around you. “What was that?”

“I said ‘I don’t’,” Wanda repeats.

“You don’t, what?” you ask. Wanda waits a second for you to catch up. “Wait, you and he never?” you ask. When she shakes her head, you are too bewildered by that possibility that you have to confirm. “Never ever?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Sorry, it’s just that,” you pause. A thought that nearly shuts down your brain takes over and you have to ask, but you weren’t sure how, not knowing if she would want it brought up in case the answer was yes. “Wait! Were you? I didn’t, um.. Did I…”

“Did you, what?” Wanda cautiously asks, noting how hesitant you are to ask whatever it is you were trying to figure out. You clear your throat. “Was I your first?”

You don’t know what you hoped the answer to be. Yes? Being someone’s first can be a big deal and if you were hers, Wanda’s first time, you’d have to move to a mansion for the size of your ego. But another thought arises. Did you live up to her expectations? Her body language seemed to say yes, but maybe she’s just really good at lying. Did you actually disappoint? Wanda disrupts your thoughts by laughing… loudly.

“Well, damn. A simple ‘no’ would’ve been sufficient,” you pout. Internally, you are a little relieved to not have been the first. When she leaves here, you’ll probably be brought up at an odd time or another in conversation. Three of the small group of Avengers will probably remember you as Wanda’s fling, but you wouldn’t be able to stand being seen as that goof that deflowered the second youngest member of the team.

“Do not take this the wrong way, Y/N, but I’m glad you were not my first,” she says. Obviously, your response is “Ouch. I don’t know how there is any other way to take that.” She continues, “Because I got to enjoy myself with you. The first time for me was not fun. I didn’t even really like him, but I was tired of everyone comparing me to Pietro, who is as you say more of a ‘free spirit’, and I guess I wanted to prove I could be too.”

With one hand you run your fingers through her hair and with the other you rub her arm in comfort. “Well then in that case, I’m glad I wasn’t your first as well. Also, I enjoyed it too.” She giggles, making you smile in return. “Just sayin’.”

“What about you?” she asks.

“My first time?” She nods. You hesitate to get into it and she gives you an out. “You don’t have to.”

“No, it’s only fair. My first was actually Skye,” you say. Wanda looks surprised. “I know. A lot of firsts with that one.”

“How did you meet?” Wanda keeps the conversation flowing after a heavy pause.

You chuckle remembering how it happened. “It all started with what Laura coined the great animal rescue,” you start. You tell her the beginning, the middle, and the end of your first and really only relationship.

“Was she the girl in the picture you showed Peter?” Wanda knows the answer. Why does she do this to herself? Maybe to try to get it through her head that there is someone out there that knows you the way she does and maybe better. Of course, a straight yes or no is too much to ask from you. “Daisy Ridley? I wish! Could you imagine? Rey Skywalker?”

“Maybe Sam has a right to tease you. You are a nerd.” You scoff, “Excuse me. Anyone would be lucky to date ‘only the prettiest woman alive!’” you repeat Peter’s voice, trying to make his voice. Wanda laughs at your impersonation of the young hero.

You remove Wanda’s arm and get off the couch. She frowns. “Where are you going?”

“Getting us a blanket and pillows. It’s way late and although I can talk with you until the sun rises, I need to get some sleep before Nat kicks my ass tomorrow. I’ll be right back,” you say with a smile before turning to grab said items.

You come back, hand Wanda a big pillow you decide you would both use, and stretch the blanket out over her before getting under it and back to the way you were before.

“Are you comfortable? Do you want the other pillow?” you ask her, which she really appreciates. Once she tells you she’s all good, you kiss her head and wish her sweet dreams.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Wanda replies.

She can’t understand how Skye held so much of you and let you go. Holding you and talking through the night with you, she knows it’s going to hurt when she will have to do the same in a few days. She holds you tighter and closes her eyes, hoping to dream of you tonight.

“Does Vision come with WiFi?”

“Y/N, go to sleep,” Wanda mutters, though she tries not to laugh.

“Sorry, just wondering. Goodnight, Wanda.”

Did Vision have wifi? He doesn’t work like a router, does he? Could she have had a personal hotspot the entire time she was dating him? Wanda needs answers.

“I bet you’re thinking about it now too, huh?”

“Y/N.”

“Sorry, sleeping now.”

____________________________________________________________________

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