#Like he doesn't have to be a master chef or anything but and maybe he enjoys not HAVING to cook (pain in the ass with one hand + knife/hook

[artkaninchenbau]

People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again

[toxicanonymity]

Any more Raider!Joel? 🥺🥺

I’ll sell my soul for anything about raider Joel

Home

1.3k / raider!Joel x fem!Reader / raider master

mood board by @milla-frenchy

WARNINGS: Dark fluff.  Angst.  Mention of cum. Aftermath of skin carving. Joel carries reader. Sleep kissing, grinding. Angst: Joel is mean in the morning. Credits/shoutouts: everyone who's asked about kissing him, @javier-penas-wifexx420 (shoes)

🖤 picks up from Raider: J. Miller

You pause on the way up the hill.  "It hurts," you whimper, cowering and holding yourself where he claimed you. Your chest burns, too. 

"C'mere," he says and hoists you up over his shoulder for the rest of the walk. Joel's trailer overlooks the stash house and gravel road so he can see trouble coming.  He sets you down, holds the door open for you, then lets it close behind him.

"Got ya somethin'," he says as he puts down the duffle bag on the table. He takes out a few wash cloths then a faded red can.  Chef Boyardee.

-

You could cry, you're so grateful. You throw your arms around him.  He stays tense and doesn't hug you back.  He hardens his face and says, "Take a rest. I'll be outside cookin'."  You curl up on Joel’s bed while he makes a fire outside and heats up the Chef Boyardee. 

When the door to the trailer opens again, you come right to the table, eyes wide like a kitten at feeding time.  It’s been a while since you had something other than squirrel.  You sit down at the small table and wait patiently.  Joel sets down a pot of beefaroni and a pot of boiled water.  He says, "Don't wanna eat too fast. make yourself sick. C'mere." He pats the stool to his left. You slide into it.  He gets a spoonful from the pot and blows on it then brings it to your mouth.  You open up and slurp it down.  It tastes and feels so good. He's right, you would probably wolf it down and make yourself sick.  

When a little bit dribbles onto your dress, Joel says "okay," and sets the spoon in the pot.  You're afraid he's mad.  "Right here." He pats his lap.  You sit on his lap side saddle and he feeds you a few more spoonfuls.  Then he hands you the spoon.  He says "slow, just like I was." He smooths your dress and  watches you eat the rest.  He unlaces your dirty converse all stars while you're eating and slips them off for you.  

You offer Joel some of the beefaroni, but he says you can have the rest of you eat it real slow. He holds a hand on your stomach then slides it down your dress, lightly grazing over your thigh, then your knee, your shin, the top of your foot.  He holds your foot in his massive hand and brushes the delicate arch with his fingers.  You squirm because it tickles and brace yourself for scolding but he doesn't. He just tightens his hand around your foot.  When you're finished with the spoonfuls, you scrape the edges of the pot with the spoon and then turn the pot up and drink as much as you can from it. For the first time in weeks your stomach feels warm and full. 

"Thank you," you say with tears in your eyes.  Joel doesn't make eye contact. He reaches for one of the washcloths and dips it into the boiled water. He puts his left arm under your right arm and braces your back. Then he starts to clean your chest, gently dabbing the trails of blood that have run up to your neck or down into your dress.  You begin to sniffle. He sighs. "Don't wanna hurt ya, sweet pea.  Don't want anyone else to, either."  

When he's done, you ask if you can go to the bathroom.  You haven't seen the carving yourself yet. He lets you stand up, then says, "you're gonna have stuff comin' out of here," lightly pushing your dress into your crack. "Maybe for days. It's a lot." He lets you go with a gentle pat on the butt.

-

You stand at the small, chipped sink and look at yourself in the cracked dirty mirror, reading the text on your chest backwards in the mirror. "J. Miller."  You almost finger the letters then remember not to touch it.  You hardly recognize yourself.  Your eyes are swollen and bloodshot.  You use the toilet and hear Joel cleaning up from dinner.  You stay in the bathroom enjoying a rare moment of privacy.  Then his footsteps get closer.  "You ok?" His face sounds like it might be right at the door. 

"Um. Yeah," you say and open the door. 

"Ok. Let's get you to bed." 

Joel tucks you into his bed.  It's an old, full size mattress on a cheap metal frame.  It's better than the sash house cots.  At least it has sheets and a blanket. 

"You're not coming?" You ask.

"No, not yet," he says.  "Gotta figure some stuff out.  Be right outside." He cracks the bedroom window before he goes outside. 

Joel goes outside and makes a fire.  You listen to it snap and pop and can hear the slosh of whiskey in a bottle.  Your whole body is spent. You shudder to think what you'd be doing if Joel hadn't saved you from FEDRA.

-

You fall asleep and don't even notice when Joel gets into bed and spoons you. 

You only wake up when he startles in his sleep, which jerks your body. He doesn't wake up, but he tightens his arm around you and his hand digs into the wounds on your chest.  You push back against his forearm and he stirs, confused. 

“My chest,” you whisper.  “You said don’t touch it.” 

"Shhhhh," he says without fully waking up.  He cups your breast and cages you, bringing his leg over yours.  His naked dick presses into you.  

Then his lips tenderly press into the nape of your neck and stay.  He’s never done that before.  It feels really good.  Warm.  Like you’re supposed to be right there in his arms. 

-

When you wake up in the morning, he’s still asleep.  You slowly, carefully turn around, his arm still draped over your side,  but loosely. Now you’re facing him.   He looks so peaceful, so harmless.  You know he’s not.  You study his face - the lines between his brows even as he sleeps, the patches in his beard, the hook of his nose, the way his lips part just slightly.  You scoot yourself closer, and your heart races.  

You dare to press your lips into his.  His arm pulls you in and his brow furrows as he just barely kisses you back.  You reach your arm over his waist to hug him as you kiss him again.  He kisses you back harder, then his cock hardens against your front.  He grunts as he grinds himself into you.  You softly moan into his mouth, then he jolts awake and pushes himself away.  

“The hell are you doin’??” He looks at you like you should know better, then averts his eyes as your face becomes pathetic and wounded.

“I - what - nothing,” you stammer softly.  

He sits up and wipes his mouth off then covers his cock for the first time and turns away.   “God damn,” he says and smooths his beard with both hands. He never meant to kiss you in the first place. 

Your eyes sting, but you want to recover. “I thought maybe I could suck your cock,” you offer.  “If you want.”  

He picks up his tight jeans from the floor and pulls them on, too disturbed to accept.  “No,” he says.  “Get dressed.”  He won’t look at you.  

On the walk down the hill to the stash house, he doesn’t say a word.  You walk a few steps behind him and admire his ass in his tight jeans. When you’re almost to the back door of the house, he says in a hushed voice, “you’re stayin’ here today.”  

He brings you back to the room with two beds.  He chains you to the radiator, briefly looks you in the face, and it seems like he's going to say something, but he doesn't. He gives your guard the key for bathroom trips, and reminds the guard what happens to him if anything happens to you.  

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging!

-

All Joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @zliteraturehoe @neobanguniverse @quietlyignoringyou

[residentialsinyomakai]

Obligatory refs + Info of my Yokai Watch Ocs (*＾▽＾*)

Under a cut because there's gonna be a lot of yapping and art stuffs....explodes +□+

Caspian Hernandez || Any Prns || Watcholder

Basics:

The 15 year old 'basically Nate replacement' of this universe!

Lives in Blossom Heights mostly alone, parents are gone pretty often for one reason or another.

In addition, she lives with Baddinyan who is the only reason they're always out of Chocobars

Can see yokai through their glasses (ability can't be deactivated, but he has to focus on yokai for a few seconds in order to actually see/identify them)

Summons them w/ the Yopple-Brand summon band :'] (Customizable! That's why it looks like a disc attached to a Brute Bracer; because it basically is.) Insert disc into a slot in the side!! Whoopie!!!

Not very socially aware due to doing online school up until the age of like 12 (EVIL CAT interactions early on are constantly like 'lol that thing they said actually meant this you dork ahah you fool' 'hush weirdo I'm trying to focus')

((^ i mean in addition to that hes also based on me so like. Neurodivergent canon?? Maybe?? Idk i unintentionslly write characters like me sometimes

A bit goofy and switches moods easily. Some days can be pretty apathetic if she's in a slump.

Gameverse Friend Team of 6: Baddinyan (duh), Badude, Casanuva, Babblong, Tut'n'K'mon, and Rawry

VC: Unbearaboy! from the 'Yo-Kai Watch!' Sub (the blue one in this scene) ((yes I know it's goofy but it's the only clip I could find, skip past the beginning flashback 😭));

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Kerosque || He/Him || Formerly-Alive Yokai

Basics:

Water-Attributed Rank-B yokai of the Tough Tribe

Phrog is about in his upper 40's.

Inspirit; is kinda like when people tend to be kinda cold/curt in the mornings for seemingly no reason.

Runs a ramen stand someplace on the outskirts of Yo-kailafornia. (He's a pretty good chef too)

((He also has little custom pins you can get for free depending on who you are ^u^ a few of his customers/friends tend to.))

Uses his ladle (however you spell it) as a bit of a weapon thing. Comically large goofy ahh 😭

Doesnt go to the human world more often than he needs to. Too much everything

This man HATES stepping foot in downtown he does NOT wanna be there ever-

Kinda perpetually grumpy, resting mildly angry face. He tries to be polite but isn't very talkative at all lol

He does in fact croak. I love frog

Not pictured cause I forgot but like. Has a little swirly stomach pattern

Reoccurring yokai at his stand tend to be: Roughraff, Sick-Kun, Quinn, Ebi, Caspian, Master Oden, and occasionally Bruff.

VC: No clue yet, something along the lines of a higher version of Walrus Captain from A hat In Time, or a less enthusiastic Captain Caviar from Cookie Run? (If you got ideas, feel free!)

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Dread || He/They/Xe || Human-Born Yokai

Basics:

Drain-Attributed Rank-S yokai of the Shady Tribe

Inspirit; kinda similar to intrusive thoughs. Worse case scenario stuff, things that make you think you're an awful person, dreading situations or overthinking anything, etc etc

Is sighted quite a bit around high-schools. Hormones+anxiety+prime place for embarassment? Makes his job too easy

He has low empathy, but isn't completely incapable. Doesn't make a lot of friends and honestly he could care less either way.

Rather flippant, dry humor kinda guy, kinda similar to Jax from tadc for reference

He does have hair under there (i thought thatd be obvious but then again you'd probably also expect him to have skin and a chest/stomach under his hoodie so aifkwod), but it's usually kinda greasy.

Heart is a weak point in battle. If he ever let's it be exposed in the first place, that is

Cannot be seen by Caspian earlier in the story. Around the point I'd expect him to be in most of my drawings, he's at 'watch' Rank-B

Likes to taunt people, the easier to provoke the better. He feeds off of negative reactions and emotions for both entertainment and soul food nom nom

Usually a sad reaction is better than an angry one for him. If he finds someone's emotional weakness he most likely Will Exploit it XnX

While he doesn't care for anyone, he tends to harass Fuwhirl and Negatibuzz the least.

VC: Dont kill me but Raggedy Andy from Raggedy Anne's Musical Adventure

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Swiss || He/Him || Human-Born Yokai

Basics:

Electic-Attributed Rank-C yokai of the Eerie Tribe

Inspirit; is why people (usually kids) are picky eaters. This can look like randomly losing an appetite/ just finding several things repulsive/I'm bald/nuance/ref

Wanders around wherever. Lives in one of the Tranquility Apartments officially tho.

(Fuwhirl lives w him after they reunite <333 long story short they know him)

Has pretty poor eating habits himself tbh

Is edible!! Technically!!! He would not reccomend it (he's cake roll flavored :'])

The swirl in his hair can be dyed different colors.)

Going off of that, he can regenerate. Useful, but kiiiinda painful

He's a bit of an a-hole, and absolutely doesn't know when to shut up. He doesn't like to fight tho surprisingly (°>°)

Sarcastic and quick to snap back at someone =u=

(There's a strange old man he helps with experiments concerning his odd biology....he hasn't been posted yet but he belongs to my friend @sketchdeath22)

VC: lol idk

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Fuwhirl || They/Them || Object-Born Yokai

Basics:

Wind-Attributed Rank-D yokai of the Mysterious Tribe

Inspirit; Makes people dizzy either randomly or after standing up ×□×

Lived at a circus for a while, but eventually it moved out of town. After a bit of aimless wandering they found their way to Blossom Heights 🌸!!!

Kinda stumbles when they walk, it's worse when they're distressed but a bit more easy to navigate when they're happier &u&

Naive, likes to think anyone's nice under the surface +▽+

Is kinda like Tattletell's in the way he had to be latched on to you to be effective. Typically via a backpack

Has one of those build-a-bear hearts inside him!!! Whoopie :)

VC: Uhhh I forgot atm but I will come back and edit lol

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Anyways, that's not including my like 'ocified versions of pre-existing characters' agsgydirofor I love yapping about ocs!!! Wahoo :)

[the-kr8tor]

Cook Hobie and Sous Chef reader because I am GONEEE girl byeee.

The first time you meet is at your interview, he's barely interested as the owner goes on and on and onnnnn. He doesn't believe talk means anything when it comes to cooking, he needs to actually SEE your skills before he lets you into his kitchen. And much to his delight after a trial run you do more than just fine.

It's been a month at your new job as a sous chef and tensions are rising, you help him during the rush, and you fly to the rescue when someone else needs help to make sure everyone can eat on time. You have enough attitude where the servers know not to push your buttons too much, you are a flame and he wishes to be burnt if it only means getting close to you.

Catering is a forsaken task that means a longer day. But suddenly, as people head home, it's only him and you in the kitchen. You both realize it's quiet, too quiet between you two. So he makes the first move and offers you a beer (or a non alcoholic drink for my pookies who can't), and as the night continues you start up a conversation and get closer to one another.

You peel the carrots, and he cuts them into an appropriate size. He starts retelling some of the stories that happened when he was still new to the job. And you laugh, god you laugh and he can't take his eyes off your smile as he hears your voice an- o h. Red seeps from his fingertip as he curses up a storm and wraps his finger in a kitchen cloth to avoid getting it over the food. You immediately drop everything and help him out with his cuts, and he makes a joke about you kissing it better. You do so after having bandaged it up properly so you can continue your prep, kissing the cloth of the bandage with a teasing/snarky remark.

Much later on he hides in the restroom, his heart beating widely as he can only feel like a high school boy getting his first crush all over again. He didn't think this type of small action could pull him so deep, him, Hobie Brown, a master chef who runs his kitchen like its war battalion. He holds up his hand to his heart, eventually heading back out as he finally calms down. But he looks at how unbothered you are by your small task, just peeling away and helping him with prep to make sure everything can get done on time. He promises himself mentally to pay you back, maybe a date would be nice or maybe he could make a new menu item for you, something sweet. Something with honey, fruit, and whisky; sweet, decadent, and strong are all things he sees in you.

-insert grave emoji here, I'm on a computer </3 me phone died

AWJSJSJWNZSBNWOWSB I KNEW YOU'D WRITE SOMETHING LIKE ONE OF THEM GETTING NICKED AND I NEVER THOUGHT IT WOULD BE HOBIE!! He's so smitten your honour

Imagine if R gets burned during dinner service, nothing too drastic just burned the tip of your finger but it still hurts like a bitch so you yelp and the loud clang of the pan hits the stove like a drum beat and Hobie is in full panic mode at your pained face. But when one of the chefs tells you to suck it up Hobie (think like hell's kitchen) yells at them to fuck off before you could even say a word and you're in front of the sink while he holds your hands under the running water asking if you're okay and your brain just went bye bye for a minute while he soothes you 😍

[mamamittens]

yandere Sanji x baker reader

I like to imagine that Sanji specializes in dinner meals but doesn't necessarily excel in other areas of meal prep like desserts or, in this case, bread. Don't get me wrong he can make a mean dinner roll that slaps like hell but it's not his specialty and he's not making the fancy shaped bread with any regularity.

So seeing someone whip out literal works of art brings a tear to his eye, it's so heavenly. A true master of their craft that he gladly tips his hat to. He simply has to have them in his kitchen. Besides, he heard that bread is filling and anything to slow Luffy down is a godsend in his books.

He'll often get distracted watching them knead dough steadily with firm hands and still manage delicate cuts that bloom into flowers and leaves with the barest scrape of a knife. Flour and ingredients cakes onto their apron as they work hard to make bread Sanji dreams about. Anything and everything bread, they can do, and he loves it.

He'll reward them with beautiful, custom drinks and meals for a hard day's work, chef to baker. He feels as though they understand him on a level few others can. From a place of honest love of the craft of food--something that can never last and is designed to be ripped apart and enjoyed. And he gets a little... Touchy about it.

About them.

It's all well and good if he's the one admiring their firm arms and skilled hands. The casual strength created from making food from scratch.

Someone else doing so on the other hand will see maybe about 0.00005 of a shoe heel going mack Jesus into their face. Sanji cannot in good conscience guarantee their facial features will remain in the same place as when the person woke up that morning.

He just can't. And he's not sorry about it either.

[teddy-bear-scribbles]

Obey Me Datables Breakfast HCs

Lucifer-

•He's canonically not a morning person, so he wouldn't have much energy

•He'd make coffee how you like it though

•if you don't drink coffee probably pour some juice for you

•He would be very appreciative if you made him breakfast in bed instead

Mammon-

•He normally doesn't cook breakfast for people, beyond when it's his chore, but for you he'd make an exception!

•He wants to make you a classic breakfast in bed, bacon and eggs

•Got a bedside table so you can eat in bed

•The bacon is a bit salty and extra crunchy, and the egg isn't the best

•He gives you a glass of milk and tells you it's because humans need the stuff in it for their bones to grow

•you're unsure whether or not to tell him human's bones stop growing after a certain age, which you're likely past

Levi-

•He does have some cooking expertise, he wouldn't make it often

•when he does though, it'd probably be something like an omelette with a picture drawn in ketchup on it

•he wouldn't bring it to you in bed but he'd still surprise you with it

•in contrast to what you think, he'd probably draw something more suited to your taste as opposed to something ruri chan themed or anything based on one of his interests

•especially if your interests are nerdy like anime

Satan-

•Makes a slightly more complicated breakfast for you like eggs benedict

•Also brings it to you in bed

•If you're willing he'd probably feed it to you

Asmodeus-

•Despite what you might think he'd put a lot of effort into learning to cook breakfast for you

•He'd make something like a sweet crepe

•He'd spend hours trying to make it perfect and aesthetic for you

•Offers a variety of fruit for you to put on it at your own discretion

•Also a healthy smoothie, probably mainly strawberry

Beelzebub-

•He's not much of a cook, but he learned that humans sometimes make their partners breakfast in bed

•He didn't realize it typically meant cooking it yourself so he probably got akudonalds or something like that

•He thinks sharing food with you is romantic, it's his way of showing his trust and love for you

Belphie-

•Makes fried eggs and slightly burnt toast

•He would improve over time as he continues to do it

•Also gives it to you in bed, sits/lies next to you while you eat as you have casual conversation

Diavolo-

•I think he would be an absolute disaster in the kitchen

•It would be a wreck

•Barbatos does most of the cooking so he never really learned

•Its the thought that counts though, I suppose

•He probably got ambitious and tried to make waffles and french toast

•Barbatos is now teaching him to cook

Barbatos-

•This man is a master chef, it's canon, he could cook a 5 course meal for breakfast

•But realistically? No

•He would covertly learn your preferences and make breakfast suited just for your tastes and dietary needs

•If you have no drink preference, he'd make a different tea each time, so you can continually try new things

•He puts flowers in a vase as decoration

•He uses flower meanings when choosing which to use

•"Peonies represent good fortune, I hope this may inspire as much for you today."

Simeon-

•He'd make his signature pancakes, syrup and butter on the side if you'd like

•His voice is extra raspy in the morning

•also brings you your drink of choice

•If you have no preference, orange juice

Solomon-

•fucking RUN.

•C'mon be serious

•"Good morning MC, I made you breakfast in bed." From Solomon is the start of a horror movie

•I know some people say they'd try his cooking but it's literally canonically lethal and makes demons sick

•You are not built different

•Maybe just, make breakfast in bed for him, instead.

[lonelychicago]

They're competing/fueding Bakers AU 😁

OHOHOHOH

okay so im thinking maybe they're competing against each other on a cooking show, like cupcake wars or whatever the baking equivalent is of master chef idk.

eddie works with his abuela bc of course he does. abuela had her own bakery since forever and eddie's been working with her since he was a little kid— standing on a little wooden barstool in the middle of the kitchen and being abuela's sous chef. || buck works with maddie, obviously. buck's got the technical skills, maddie does the frosting and decorations on their baked goods.

when they get on the show and eddie sees the others competitors, his jaw ticks when he realizes buck is one of them. they kind of have history— as in, buck almost ran him and abuela out of business when he and his sister decided to have their bakery just a block away from eddie's.

and they also kinda dated?? but we don't talk about that. it's too complicated and eddie doesn't really like to think about it. it was short and messy and it didn't mean anything anyway. (seriously! it didn't!!) (it totally did)

the producers from the competition were of course very excited about this information bc who doesn't want to see this on live television??? they were EATING. IT. UPPPP. until the competition actually started and it didn't take buck and eddie much to blow out at each other and have the biggest, stupidest fight in front of the cameras— over flour or baking soda, probably. (they go viral and everyone thinks they'll definitely get married at some point. no one really cared about who actually won the competition) (it was a tie and eddie is still very mad about it. he really doesn't want to talk about THAT.) (maddie and abuela are just enjoying the spectacle.)

Send me a potential AU and I’ll tell you five fun facts that would happen in a story.

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Floyd Leech Apprentice Chef Personal Story: Part 2

"Master Chef"

(Part 1) Part 2

[Kitchen]

Master Chef - Floyd Version ～Let's Make Pescatore Bianco 2～

Floyd: Heat olive oil and garlic in the frying pan, and when they become fragrant, add the other ingredients.

Floyd: Quickly sauté everything, then add the white wine and let it steam under the lid.

Ghost Chef: I had prepped some extra ingredients just in case, but it looks like you don't need them at all.

Ghost Chef: Can you put the food you didn't use back into the refrigerator?

Floyd: 'Kaaay～

[opens fridge]

Floyd: Ah, there's a ton of veggies in this fridge. Oooh, they're all super colorful.

Floyd: I see fruit tomatoes, eggplants, yellow zucchini and… what's this huge coral lookin' thing～?

Ghost Chef: That's called a romanesco, which is a type of cauliflower.

Floyd: Oh, so it doesn't need any special prep or nothing, huh. I'll throw this in too.

Ghost Chef: Shoot! I answered on autopilot! You're just going to use an ingredient you're seeing for the first time like that with no hesitation!?

Floyd: Well, 'cause, if it was something with a specific taste or texture, you woulda started with that.

Floyd: You coulda said "that's real bitter," or "that's super hard to chew." Eh, I mean, I guess I'm not the type to say anything either, so.

Floyd: All you said was that it's "a type of cauliflower," so…

Floyd: That just means it'll basically have the same taste and texture of a cauliflower, right? Am I wrong?

Ghost Chef: Th-That's right, but…

Floyd: Right? If it's like a cauliflower, it should absorb the seafood extract to make it even more yummy.

Floyd: The flavor of that chicken I added earlier should also get a nice flavor to it. Mm, but I kinda wanna add one more thing.

Floyd: Ah. That's right, I saw some fruit tomatoes earlier. I'll get some added sweetness from that, and I'll also throw in the eggplant and zucchini…

Ghost Chef: Aaah, Floyd-kun! Don't just start adding random ingredients again… No, wait a moment.

Ghost Chef: With only my one response, he's completely grasped the nature of ingredients he's unfamiliar with and figured out how to make them compatible with his dish.

Ghost Chef: Floyd-kun's potential is greater than I could possibly imagine. If I let him do his own thing, maybe he'll come up with something incredible…!?

Floyd: Dum-de-duuum ♪ I got shrimp, squid, and octopus; chicken and veggies～It's gonna taste so good～♪

Floyd: The Pescatore Bianco's done～♪ Whaddya think? Looks good and colorful, yeah?

Ghost Chef: Yes, yes, it's fantastic! You even thought about how to plate it and made a good choice to leave out the shrimp heads!

Floyd: Wow, that's some high praise… You were complaining so annoyingly earlier, what's with the change of heart all of a sudden?

Ghost Chef: Fufu… As I watched you arrange your dish, my chef's inquisitive nature was piqued.

Ghost Chef: But, this volume of food… Isn't there double the normal portion here?

Floyd: Since the pasta's the most filling, there's still only a single portion of that in the dish, so I'm pretty sure anyone can finish the whole thing, no problem.

Floyd: Mmkay, so time to bring the food out.

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Jade: I wonder if the dish has been completed. It is beginning to smell quite delectable… Oh, hello, Floyd.

Floyd: What, Jade's my judge? Cool, I guess coincidences do happen sometimes.

Jade: I suppose so. I am a little shocked, myself.

Floyd: Mmkay… Here's the dish you ordered. Please enjoy～

Jade: Oh my, my… There is much more in this Pescatore Bianco than any I've ever seen.

Jade: You've used not only seafood, but also chicken and vegetables. It looks quite nutritious and hearty.

Jade: I suppose we could say it is made in "Floyd's Whimsical Style"...

Floyd: Whatever, why don'tcha just eat it already?

Jade: Actually, I've just come from flight classes, so I am absolutely famished… I'll dig in without further ado.

[bite, chew, chew, chew…]

Jade: The seafood and chicken don't overpower the other at all in a good balance of flavors.

Jade: The vegetables not only are a colorful addition to the plate, but are also well seasoned.

Jade: Yes… This is a rather delicious Pescatore Bianco.

Floyd: Seeee～ I told you it'd be a proper Pescatore Bianco, huuh?

Ghost Chef: N-No, we cannot say for certain! This could just be favoritism from a family member, so we should have a more extensive evaluation…

Ghost Chef: Wait, THAT HUGE HELPING OF FOOD IS ALREADY GONE!?

Jade: I was quite hungry, so it went went down so quickly.

Ghost Chef: Floyd-kun, why're you sporting such a huge identical grin as him…!?

Ghost Chef: …I can see from the look on your faces just how good it actually tastes.

Ghost Chef: Wait a minute, were you thinking about how you wanted the final dish to taste and planned out all the ingredients accordingly!?

Floyd: Planned? Why would I go through something that annoying each time I cook?

Floyd: If you eat three meals a day, you should pretty much figure everything out. Stuff like, "if I put these in the same dish, they'll go good together," or "if I put this in, it'll ruin the flavor,"

Ghost Chef: Is that so… You're already at that level of proficiency, I see. Marvelous! That's simply marvelous, Floyd-kun…!

Ghost Chef: That sense of yours is a talent that would be hard to find for most chefs. It really is quite impressive!

Ghost Chef: Let's try to develop that talent even further throughout this session of Master Chef!

Floyd: Hmm～ At the Mostro Lounge, they're so annoying with all that talk of cost or whatever, and doesn't look like that'd be a thing here…

Floyd: Maybe it won't suck takin' this class for a little while longer. Ahah ♪

(Part 1) Part 2

[theawkwardanglophile]

What are your top 5 episodes??

I should have seen this coming! 😂 Thanks for the ask, Sarah, and I’m sorry I didn’t get this out sooner. My brain was mush the past couple of days and I wanted to give this my full attention when I made my decisions. And, man, I DELIBERATED on this! My criteria were episodes that were Chenford-heavy, so some eps that have like one big amazing Chenford scene (4x18 for example) were left out. And I'm sure this might change at some point, but I feel pretty good about where everything landed for now. So here we go….

5x12 Death Notice This ep just has EVERYTHING: the end of their era of riding together, being flirty at work, ridiculous married vibes (the lint picking??), LUCY LESSON (how did it take them 5 years to come up with the greatest term to counter Tim Tests? Bring back Lucy Lessons in S6!), the lengths they both will go to for each other, Tim's talk with Grey, and of course, NAKED TIME. And that doesn't even cover all of it. I just love it to pieces.

5x10 The List The absolute high this episode gave me, after a full month of bliss already with them being canon. The most delicious rom-commy cold open that I could have hoped for, trying on their entire closets and then being so painfully, adorably awkward on their date. Then Tim and Lucy being ANYTHING but subtle at work, which is just so hilarious considering they can be so stealthy when needed on the job, but trying to hide their relationship? Umm, y'all weren't fooling anyone. Maybe Nolan. And the precious first/second date at the end. The GRANDKIDS, the SMILES, the KISS. Perfection!

4x09 Breakdown An Eric Winter master performance. I just wanted to hug Tim throughout the ep. Luckily, Lucy was there for that job, and what a hug it was! Tim lets go completely and sinks into her, all his walls down. He felt so safe with her. I love how her opinion of him means everything, and she was quick to offer reassurance (I truly believe her words in 4x08 were just a slip of the tongue). But I also love how Lucy is just doing life with Tim, the things that matter. Where was Ashley, hmmm? It's Lucy that's there helping with such a significant job of remodeling Tim's childhood house, and doing some wonderful future sister-in-law bonding with Genny. Also, Tim and Lucy power-walking through the station in plain clothes? A VIBE.

4x12 The Knock The most insane double date ever? My gosh, this ep has so much fun stuff in it, so many little details, that even though Lucy started dating Chris, and Ashley decided to turn a blind eye and continue dating Tim, after watching this I had never been more convinced that Chenford was endgame. Every part of the double date is gold, and Tim and Lucy's scenes on the job beautifully showcase how seamlessly they work together (and their total lack of personal space). LOVE IT.

2x13 Follow-Up Day This ep was an early fave, and still holds a special place. TIM GAVE UP A PROMOTION FOR LUCY. Way before Court Liaison there was THIS. Lucy is his biggest cheerleader this whole ep (and, you know, always), and Grey's knowing looks during the test score scene is *chef's kiss*. And the scene outside the bakery is everything. Their faces say so much! They were being such flirts in S2, to the point that I originally wondered if they might actually start something later that season. THAT'S how powerful that scene was.

Honorable mentions:

2x11 Day of Death I know, I know, and part of me feels like it should be in the top five. I mean, it is without a doubt one of the best episodes, if not the best, they ever made. It's so powerful, and was the turning point in my shipping, because I'd only been mildly intrigued by Chenford in a few S2 eps, but DOD cemented me as a full-fledged shipper (little did I know it would become my best shipping experience of all time). But it can be a hard one to watch, and I just love those others a tiny bit more.

5x08 The Collar There are so many moments to love in this ep. It truly changed everything with Tim and Lucy, and the more I've seen their talk outside at the end, the more it grows on me. It really is so them. Even though they become CANON in this one, I think because there is so much clueless Chris, and the tough scene with the first bomb victim, it just didn't quite make it to the top 5.

3x09 Amber Anyone who was around when this aired knows we all lost our minds pretty good with this ep. It grew on me more and more over time, and I love it so much. The whole confession scene still might be the longest uncut Chenford scene...ever? Just them talking in the shop. It's insanely wonderful! And this ep gave us Parking Garage Face and the beginning of a brand new chapter with Tim and Lucy.

5x01 Double Down Editing to add this one, because I started questioning everything, and it did NOT feel right to leave this one out. What a fantastic collection of moments. The airplane kiss is top tier, HANDS, the gorgeous shots of them in the car in Vegas, it doesn't feel like pretend, etc. And even though I'm so glad they didn't cheat, I'll never be over the fact SHE OPENED THE DOOR FOR HIM AND HE WENT IN.

[sp4ceboo]

The Hunter and the Culinarian: Darth Maul x Reader

A/N: don't mind the millions of metaphors i put in the end i didn't know how to finish it ok

Warnings: swearings, violence, blasters,

Word count: <1600

Unbeknownst to many Sith and many more Jedi, you're in possession of a rather remarkable little secret. You, and only you, have seen the sight that graces your eyes nearly every morning, heard the gleeful notes of a soft baritone voice as he works, tasted the wonders of his phenomenal creation. Your husband, Maul Oppress himself, weilder of the cruel, crimson double bladed lightsaber, master of thousands of deadly, efficient fighting techniques, user of the mysterious, miraculous Force, is quite the chef.

To put it shortly, he makes great Gi dumpling soup. And Tiingilar. His Mustafarian Lava Bun is absolutely delectable, not to mention the Franikhad he cooks up, or that Corellian Ryshcate he made for you after you got some disease from a snotty Mon Calamari child... Oh, and the Quor'sav Fried Steak he made for you after that one hunt, or the one time where he made his own, slightly healthier version of the Raxus Slider from Dex's Diner.

There's nothing you love more than coming back from a long, arduous hunt to the smell of hot, just-out-of-the-oven food, apart from maybe the hug that follows - usually involving you dropping the bounty on the floor, chucking your rifle in the opposite direction (once you check the safety's on, of course) and hurling yourself at his back, trusting his connection with the Force to inform him that a heavily armoured Mandalorian is flying in a collision course for his ass. The expression on his face is always priceless, the soft melody dying an untimely death in the back of his throat as he drops the wooden spoon in his hand and catches you with the strength and precision of  a Sith lord. You can almost the strong grip of his powerful arms now, can almost hear the deep chuckle he'll let out as you kick your feet, toes brushing the ground from where he's lifted you into his embrace.

Your feet drag in the desert dust. How you wish for the insufferable, hot headed Zabrak now, with an unconscious bounty that feels like it's made of the solid beskar slung over your shoulder, the sun beating down on you as you trudge towards the ship - a mere speck on the horizon. Yes, you may tease him all the time that you're the bread winner, but sometimes you wish you were the one at home, pottering around in a 'please do nothing to the cook' apron and humming contentedly to yourself. You reckon you might even be able to avoid burning the whole ship down, although the food you produce may or may not be inedible. It's safe to say that the roles you both carry are fitting - you can't prepare food for your life, and if you put Maul on a hunt he'll either lose patience or find some trace of Kenobi that he can pursue eternally until you remind him that you'll all starve if he leaves you alone to do the cooking.

With every step, the arches of your feet radiate pain all the way up your legs, and the tiny silver glimmer on the horizon seems to slip further and further away, taking with it your promise of food and a pretty, tattooed, Zabrak man wife. The bounty over your shoulder groans, and you don't even think twice, you just sling the Iktochi onto the ground, watching passively until he stumbles, tripping over a rock, and you shoot out a hand to grab his arm in a vice like grip, steadying him. Digging the barrel of your blaster into his back, you urge him forward.

'Don't even fucking think about trying anything,' you huff grumpily.

Without the heavy, insistent weight of the bounty on your back, you relax a little, picking up the pace and forgetting your plans to just leave it all to hell and kill him, even if it meant you had to take half the pay. You roll your eyes when the Iktochi trips again, this time dropping to his knees on the ground. It doesn't escape your notice that he scoops a rock off the ground, probably a last resort weapon, but you ignore it for now - he'll be in carbonite soon, and if he tries anything, he'll have to deal with a grumpy, half starved Mandalorian and a Sith Lord with anger issues.

You're almost to the ship, happily trundling along, so close that the sun reflects off the hull and right into your eyes, when the bounty makes a break for it. It's rather pitiful, if you're being honest. All he does is launch himself in the opposite direction, the rock that had been previously hiding in his sleeve reappearing and rebounding with a clear, laughably bell like noise off your helmet. Maybe he'd been banking on the fact that you'd rather have him alive so wouldn't shoot immediately, but you're smarter than that - the blaster setting flicks to stun in a millisecond, and in the next, he's falling, eating the dust.

Staring at the unconscious body before you, you wrinkle your nose. Are you really going to drag that dead weight all the way up to the ramp, prop it up while you prepare the carbonite chamber, then struggle to not get your arm frozen in the process? It takes less time for you to decide than it took for you to stun the quarry. No. No way.

'Maul!' You yell, banging on the side of the ship. 'I'm home!'

A few seconds later, the ramp slowly lowers, and he pokes his head out, a smile brightening his face. He's a sight for sore eyes, shirtless and clad in nothing but some boxers and the iconic 'please do nothing to the cook' apron that he bought for himself after you... attacked him while he was cooking too many times: a common morning occurrence, which he claims is a bother, but secretly, or not so secretly, enjoys. His tattoos form constellations up his arms and across his muscle sheathed chest, and you watch, starry eyed for a few seconds before you shake some sense into yourself. Maker, you don't even have the strength to run into his arms today, instead waving helplessly at the body on the floor with a sheepish smile.

'Some help?' You ask. 'I'm in a bit of a Sith-uation here.' He groans. 'My love; that was awful.' 'I beg to differ, Maul. It was hilarious.'

The crimson Zabrak rolls his eyes, strolling down the ramp and over to you. He pauses before you, and you think he's going to bend down and hoist the bounty into his arms, but instead he lunges forwards and grabs you, throwing you easily over his shoulder. You yelp in protest, beating your fists against his back, but don't do much else in terms of struggling - you can finally relax, and although you'd envisioned actually sitting down while Maul supplied you with a glass of water and a kiss on the head, this will do just fine. Swinging your legs, you watch from your upside down position as Maul stoops to grab the Iktochi's tunic, slinging him onto the opposite shoulder like a sack of those fried Protatos they sell in Coruscant.

'Alright,' you sigh. 'I can see you're trying to make a point here.' 'Was it with success?' 'Yes, unfortunately,' you growl. 'Put me down, Oppress.' 'No need to get feisty,' he croons. 'I made Tiingilar.'

It's actually almost embarassing how fast you perk up. Food will do that to a hungry Mandalorian like you, you guess. No one makes Tiingilar like Maul does - you haven't tried something as authentic tasting since you left Mandalore, but then, it would make sense, as he was ruler of Mandalore for a while. Knowing Maul, he probably figured out how to make the dish in private, testing out and measuring the exact mass of the spices to add.

Maul sets you down gently at the table as he hauls the bounty over to the carbonite freezer, and you dig into the steaming stew, setting your helmet on the table beside you. Smiling, your Sith sits down beside you, pausing your hurried eating when he cups your jaw, tilting your face to his so he can kiss you, his lips pulling up into a grin against yours as you snake a hand around the back of his head to pull him closer, leaning into his touch. Once he releases you, it doesn't take you long to eat the food he's prepared for you, and you groan, cradling your food baby as you set the clean bowl onto the table.

'That was so good, Maul,' you sigh. 'You spoil me.' 'Anything to see that pretty face of yours,' he replies with a disarming grin. 'Oh, so that's why you cook so much,' you tease. 'And because I love you,' he whispers, voice dropping a few octaves. You smile - so hard your cheeks begin to ache. 'I love you too, Maul.'

It doesn't take you another second - you fall into his arms, the way a comet streaks towards a planet, trapped in its gravity. You are his star, yet you find yourself orbitting him, the shine of glittering galaxies glimmering in your wonder struck eyes; he cradles you in his arms, anchoring you, grounding you, and you wish to stay there forever, sheltered in the arms of the most dangerous man in the universe. He snares you in his grip, yet in doing so, he secures you. The two of you dance together within your own self made solar system, twirling among planets and spinning past asteroid fields, destined, as two star systems are, to collide. And when you do, you explode in a shower of glittering lights, again and again and again, clasped tightly in each others arms.

[redcruxsworld]

I love you, still do.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kennings looked at the picture on his desk. Amongst all his possessions, it was the most special one. One that he cherished the most. A picture of his ex-girlfriend, Cecilia, is also known as "Miss Heed." They met when they were young and fell in love. They dated for six long years before Cecilia finally left him. It was sudden and shocking for him. He didn't notice anything wrong prior. It was just him and her happy together living in his small apartment. He was a good boyfriend, too. He'd clean the place and cook homemade meals for the both of them. It was a simple yet quiet and lovely one..... or so he thought. Ever since she left him with a letter telling him that she was breaking up with him, he felt like he did something wrong. As if the reason why she left was because of him. She never specifically said it was his fault, but he felt like if he only had given her things she wanted, maybe.... she would have stayed. 'That might be it', Kennings said in his mind. He couldn't give her nice bags, clothes, and a nicer apartment, that's why she left him. He stood up with a determined look on his face. He knew what he needed to do, and he would do it if it meant to get her back. He would do every job so that he could take her out on a nice dinner night. He then changed clothes and walked the street nights of Paris. He was inquiring if any of the restaurants and bars needed a waiter. He hanged his head low as he was rejected for the 5th time. As he decided to go back home and try his luck tomorrow, a flyer slapped him on the face. He took it off, and a smile grew on his face. It was a flyer for a well-known restaurant in his area and wouldn't you know they are looking for a waiter! 'This is great! Now I'll be able to save up more money to take Cecilia out!', Kennings squealed as he ran directly to where the restaurant was. He entered, huffing as he tried to gain back some air back to his lungs. The staff who were closing up the place looked at him in confusion. He then looked up and raised the flyer, "You are guys looking still for a waiter?", he said in an excited tone. The staff then spoke up after a solid minute, "Sorry, but we are clos-", then a loud slam of the kitchen door erupted. It was the owner and head chef of the restaurant, Herbert Leth. He smiled brightly, "Oh, looks, we already have a new waiter! Isn't that nice!", Herbert said in a cheery and loud voice. Herbert walked towards Kennings and held his hands, "Welcome to La Gueule de Saturne. It's a pleasure to be your boss and to have you as a new employee. You'll be starting next morning! Don't be late, alright?", he said before releasing his death grip on Kennings's hands. Kennings rubbed his hands together to relieve some of the pain, "A-already?.... No interview o-or anything???", he asked, perplexed by Herbert's overly positive and cheery attitude. Herbert just shook his head, "None, unless you want that? But I'm sure you don't. Anyways, remember, I need you here by 5 am sharp. Ok?", Herbert said as he faced his other employees, "Keep moving. We are 4 minutes late from closure.", his cheery voice shifting to a more serious one. Kennings felt relieved that he immediately got the job, but...... he felt like something was off. Did the great master chef Herbert Leth really just accepted him with no questions asked? It was strange, but nonetheless, maybe it was just luck being on his side today. He left the restaurant before a voice called out to him, "Oi! New guy, don't forget your uniform!", the staff member said hastily giving it to him before running back to the restaurant. He looked at the guy wanting to say thank you but couldn't even finish. His eyes then stared at the uniform, then the outside of La Gueule de Saturne. Looks like his boring life got busier than ever. He doesn't want to disappoint his new boss, just like how he did with Cecilia. After she was the main reason why he wanted this job. It was for her. He then carried his uniform back to his flat and slept. Ready to take on what tomorrow holds for him.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[highfiveheroes]

4 and 20 (haha nice) for the rat grinders!

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

20. Which other character is the ideal best friend for this character, the amount of screentime they share doesn't matter? (rat grinders for both)

OOOH an excellent set of questions.

kipperlilly i’d throw into some kind of nancy drew-esque mystery video game on desktop, but it’d definitely take like a slenderman/amanda the adventurer twist where as the game progressed if you weren’t solving it fast enough she’d try to come out of the game and murder you in the woods. as far as friends, i do feel like she and oisin have a kind of camaraderie, but i LOVE the idea of her and ivy being on good terms and bitching about everyone all the time.

ruben belongs in one of those visual novel apps like episode where fantastical things happen and, as the love interest, he’s always right, always perfect, and never looked down on because he’s everyone’s favorite. i just think he’d thrive in an environment where it’s all love all the time and consequences aren’t real. i think he’d be a horrible influence on buddy but once buddy removes said stick from his ass i like to think they’d make each other worst (in the best way possible) but also ruben and fig as musical bffs who write songs together and have twitter beef that nobody can tell is a joke would also be fucking incredible.

oisin i think would be great in something like psych as the straight character, giving like carlton lassiter vibes. surrounded by chaos and always getting shown up, but he is genuinely good at his job when he lets them be. controversial opinion i think he’s only really good at being friends with ivy, i have a hard time seeing him bond with anyone else except maybe ? mary ann, and even then

speaking of mary ann. i would love to see her in the same episode stories as ruben as his voice of reason that gets ignored all the fucking time and she doesn’t give a shit so she gives up. for some reason i think she and buddy would also get along really well, mostly because she doesn’t care enough to tell him to shut up and he doesn’t care enough to ask her about herself. if not him then ivy as well, for similar reasons, except sometimes mary ann makes one bitchy comment after hours of ivy ranting and it’s so hysterical and well placed that ivy just loses it

ivy!!! put her as a judge on like project runway or master chef so she can be critical as hell and get very little slack for it because she’s just nice enough that everything is "constructive" criticism. she and oisin are made to be best friends of course but she could realistically slot in with anyone (the nature of being fake as fuck <3) so default to oisin, but if she’s having lunch with anyone else, it’s allowed

and buddy!!! buddy would ABSOLUTELY be cast on the fucking wiggles or something. or live action veggie tales. i think he’s really good with kids probably, nature of being family with the head of the church and needing to step up sometimes, so if he can spread the good word and teach the kids how to be polite and proper (and nonfunctional shh) he’d thrive. and as before, having him hang out with mary ann (out of pity on his part, nonchalance on hers) is a great combo but also he and ruben could make each other so much worse. if anyone sees ruben release a screamo hymnal, blame buddy

[kill-the-feels]

the most dangerous thing is to love ~ ch. IV

a/n: hey besties!! it's been a hot minute since i've been on here and even longer since i updated this, but i come bearing a fun chapter so i hope you'll forgive me! i've also got the next four or five chapters plotted out, so the next few updates should be quicker in coming! thanks to everyone who's waited and loved it so far! <3 (previous part) (master list)

warnings: language, lots of snark, references to past injuries, slight horror vibe at the end

word count: ~4.9k

You crouch behind Fett as he lays flat against the edge of the cliff, eyes squinting in the blistering sunlight.

The crystal water all around you shimmers in the distance, the dark forest and cave system between you and the shore.

“I don’t see anything,” he says. You creep up beside him, mirroring his pose, lest you fall over the side.

This is the highest point on the island, a rocky hill that left the both of you winded on the climb up.

“Nothing?” you repeat. He gives you a wicked side-eye, the kind that gives a blaster bolt a run for its money, irritation at your questioning evident.

“Nothing. You’re positive it was bones you found?” You clench your jaw, his skeptical tone grating. This is the third time the two of you have been over this.

“Unless sticks are shockingly white and humanoid. And carry ancient med kits.” He snorts beside you, wiggling himself back away from the ledge.

“This little island is clearly uninhabited. And there are no signs of life. Which makes the presence of another human-”

“Disturbing, to say the least,” you interrupt. He glares at you.

“And unlikely.” You glance at the horizon. Empty, same as it has been.

“Or like us — unlucky. Who’s to say they weren’t like us? Survivors who washed up here, survived as long as they could, then died.” You paint a morbid picture, and Fett makes a face.

“This cannot be the only island on the whole planet. Someone has to be out there.” He's trying to be logical about this whole thing, but you remain unconvinced.

“Maybe. But I don’t like our odds.” Fett fiddles with a button on his wrist, and you watch as it blinks red twice, then shuts off.

“Damn it,” he mutters under his breath, hurrying back the way you came before you can ask any questions. ~~~ The climb back down takes the rest of your afternoon, and the two of you retreat back into the caves as night sets in, building a fire and sitting closer to it for warmth.

“We need food,” you say, halving a ration bar and passing him half. He scowls at it.

“These taste like shit,” Fett says bluntly. You nibble on the edge of it, trying to make it last, so you can trick your stomach into thinking it’s more food than it is.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have the chef prepare something else for next time,” you say, and he glares at you, his favorite pastime.

“If someone hadn’t tossed my helmet, it’d be easier to find things to eat.” You make a face, sticking your tongue out at him like a three-year-old. Always about that damn helmet.

“We could also fish," you suggest. "Got to be plenty of those.” Fett pokes a stick in the fire, ignoring you.

“Tomorrow you’re showing me where you found the bones,” he says instead. Unease slithers down your spine.

“I’d rather not go back there.” He finally glances at you, disdain barely masked on his face.

“Afraid of the nexu?” You clench your jaw, grabbing your own stick to poke the fire with.

“No.” It’s the truth. It’s not the nexu that leaves your skin crawling. It’s the idea of being back in that spot. Everything was so still and quiet, and you can’t shake the sensation that something else was there besides the nexu, watching you.

“If you found the med kit there, odds are there are other supplies. We’re going back.” His tone leaves no room for argument, and you bite off another corner of your ration bar, gathering your courage to poke the proverbial bear again.

“Why are you the one calling all the shots?” You interrupt the silence, unable to let it go. Fett doesn't respond at first, instead twisting his stick in the flames, burning a neat circle around the end. His silence is worse than his caustic arguments, because you can't argue with silence.

“I thought this was a truce.” Bitterness seeps into your voice as you try again.

“If you with your infinite knowledge of survival would like to be in charge, then by all means,” he says calmly. A small flame grows on the end of the stick, steadily climbing up its length to his hand. Fett smudges the stick out in the dirt.

The side of his mouth tilts up, just barely, and you gape. Instead of arguing with you, meeting your anger with the plenty of his own that he's got stored up, he does that.

“Did you just make a joke?” Your own stick burns, and you toss it in the fire instead of extinguishing it.

“I don’t make jokes,” he says, stretching out on his back, one hand resting behind his head. You stare at him as he throws the other arm over his eyes.

“You made a joke.” He gives you a noncommittal hum.

“Some of us are trying to sleep,” Fett says. You snatch up another stick, letting it catch fire. When it burns, you hold onto it, torn between smudging it out and burying it in Fett’s ribs.

In the end, you put it in the dirt beside his stick, pillowing your hands under your head and shutting your eyes. ~~~ “Get up.” The foot to the ribs doesn’t feel any better than before, and your eyes fly open, glare ready.

“Good morning to you too, ass,” you mutter. The sun is barely peaking over the hills but the morning is already hot and steamy, with distant creatures calling out in the jungle.

The waves crash against the rocks as you eat the half of the ration bar Fett passes you on his way out of the cave. You’re scrambling to follow, still half-asleep and vaguely confused.

“Easy,” you huff, sliding on loose rocks as you make your way up the hill. “Do you know where you’re going?”

In your haste to follow him, you put your foot down on the wrong rock, and it twists, sending you sprawling on your knees. Fett catches hold of your upper arm before you can slide too far down, hefting you back to your feet.

“We’re meant to be walking, not sliding,” he says. Blowing hair out of your eyes, you watch where you step, until the two of you reach the top of the hill, just outside of the tree line.

“Where do we go from here?” He's looking at you expectedly, like you should just know where to go. You hesitate, trying to remember.

“I was trying to head to the beach, where we washed up,” you say. “And I know I headed downwards, pretty much straight in.” You bite your lip, unsure how to tell Fett that you basically stumbled onto the spot.

He glances at the sky.

“You have no idea where we should be going,” he says. It isn’t a question.

“I know the general idea. Just… be quiet and let me think.” After the nexu attacked you, it was a miracle you managed to make it back. The green all looks the same, and you have a feeling that the less you try to navigate, the more the your instinct takes over. Plus, the cave is next to the water, so you were able to follow the sound of the waves as you got close enough.

But as you walk forward, the jungle starts to look a little less confusing, certain landmarks seeming familiar. Fett follows silently behind you, shoving leaves and branches out of his way with more force than is probably strictly necessary.

He says nothing, but gradually his breathing gets heavier, like he’s struggling to keep up, still recovering from being sick. You round the corner, into a small, open area littered with rocks.

“Let’s stop for a minute,” you say. Fett glances around, eyes tracing the line of the trees.

“Is this where you were?” he asks, leaning on a waist-high rock. You shake your head.

“No, I don’t recognize any of this. But I need a breather.” The look he gives you is not amused.

“So we keep walking.” He starts off, headed in what feels like the complete wrong direction. With a groan, you hurry after him.

“We can keep walking all you want, but I’m telling you, I need to take a breather, and so do you, and I’m not sure which way I-”

Fett takes another step forward and something clicks under his foot. He freezes and you react on instinct, holding your breath.

“What was that?” He glances back at you without moving, then looks down, lips set in a grim line. Slowly, he crouches, keeping his feet in the same position, until he can brush the leaves and detritus of the jungle away.

His spine stiffens, ramrod straight, and more telling than anything he could say with his words.

“It’s a mine,” he says, voice flat and without any emotion. He's way too calm for the situation, in your opinion. You squint at the ground, just able to make out the top of a durasteel circle.

“Why is there a fucking mine?” you ask, voice a horrified whisper. Fett looks around as he carefully stands back up.

“I don’t know. But there are probably more. Are there any under your feet?” You crouch, maintaining your position the same way he did, and carefully clear away the leaves covering the ground around you.

“I don’t see any.” Fett’s jaw clenches.

“Go back the way we came,” he says. “Watch your feet, trace your steps as best you can.”

“And you?” He eyes the distance between you two.

“Just go.” You shake your head.

“No, we can come up with something. We’re a team now, remember?” He rolls his eyes.

“As if you’d ever let me forget.” Instead of stepping away, you step closer.

“For once in your fucking life, can’t you listen?” he says, angry. “If you step on one, at best we’re both screwed, at worst, we both die.” You stop moving.

“Okay. Since we’re stuck — for now — let’s discuss: why are there mines?” You add the “for now” when he glares at you.

“You’ll be happy to know this counts as a sign of life,” Fett says. “And is one hell of a disturbing way to find out.” Thunder rumbles above the two of you.

“It definitely ranks above the bones,” you say. The wind whistles through the trees, brushing over your skin, leaving chills in its wake.

“Bones can’t kill you.” He looks above him, at the way the clouds are steadily thickening.

“What do we do?” Fett looks behind him, at the way the two of you came. He sighs, rubbing his hands down his face.

“I don’t suppose you have secrets skills with defusing bombs hidden up your sleeve.” You’d almost believe it was a joke, except you know Fett and find it hard to believe he’s joking right now. You’re certainly not laughing.

“Sorry, fresh out of that one,” you say, wiping the sweat off your forehead. Fett closes his eyes, seeming to gather himself before he looks at your fingers.

“Alright. Do exactly as I say.” He reaches for one of the pouches on his belt, pulling out a tiny blade and a little pointed rod of durasteel. When you hesitate, he shakes them at you, drawing you closer.

You move carefully, examining the ground before you shuffle your feet forward until you’re right in front of him.

“What now?” Fett crouches a little, trying to get a good look at the mine.

“Clean it off some more — carefully — so we can see what we’re working with. There should be a place to unscrew the casing. That’s what the pointed piece is for. Tell me when you’ve done that.”

Gently, holding your breath lest you breathe too hard and set the damn thing off, you scrape away dirt and leaves until the muddy mine stares up at you. There’s a raised circular section, with dirt caked into what looks like a tiny X.

“Unscrew there,” Boba says, and you flex your fingers to try and work out the shakiness.

“No problem. Anything else while I’m down here? Some refreshments, maybe?” He scoffs.

“Cut the shit and focus on what you’re doing.” You save the choice words you’ve got for him because it takes too much of your concentration to make sure the little rod is fitting correctly in the corroded X of the screw.

Slowly, it gives way and starts to twist.

“Wait until it’s almost all the way free, then switch to your fingers and twist — slowly. When you get it out, put it to the side and pry the casing open just enough to see what’s inside. Try not to disturb any wires.” He makes the instruction sound like something as simple as baking.

“How am I meant to pry it open and not disturb any wires?” The screw loosens dangerously and you quickly grab at it with your fingers, giving it the final few twists it takes to pull it all the way out. You set it and the rod to the side. Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for the hard part.

“Get at an angle where you can see down inside without moving it too much. Tell me what you see.” You make a face, the angle required putting your face right next to his leg.

The proximity is weird and makes the situation even worse. Squinting, you try to make out what’s under the dirt.

“Bunches of wires,” you mutter.

“I know that,” Fett says, and you can hear the eye roll. “What color?”

Your head is fully pressed against his leg now, fingers trying to delicately crack open the side some more.

“Brown,” you say finally. “And a blue and white one. Maybe a black one under all that? Or a dark grey?” He huffs.

“Which? It’s important to know.” And really, it shouldn’t surprise you that Fett knows how to disarm a mine. He is the Boba Fett after all.

“Black,” you say decisively, because either you’re right or you’ll be dead wrong and blissfully dead so you don’t have to hear about how you were wrong.

“Cut the brown wire.” You look at the blade in your hand.

“Uh, not to question you, but that was awful quick. Are you sure, buddy?” He looks down at you, where your head is still pressed to his leg.

“Cut the brown wire,” he says through gritted teeth.

Slowly, you stab the blade into the gap, trying to not to touch any other wires. Your heart is racing, skin buzzing with anticipation.

Ever so gently, you turn the blade, watching in fascination as it severs the brown wire.

It is a win, you suppose, that you don’t immediately blow up.

But Fett still has to move his foot.

“Is it cut?” he asks. You nod, already carefully backing away.

“Get back here,” he says, “and cut the blue and white one.”

“I have to cut more?” You’re not proud of the way your voice whines. He glares at you, not even dignifying you with a response.

This time, you’re less careful, slicing your way through it.

“And now the dark grey one?” you ask. He jerks his gaze down to you.

“You said it was black!” Is that fear in his voice?

“I meant black, calm down.”

“Don’t touch the last wire. Back up.” You hold your breath, watching.

Your heart bangs against your rib cage as Fett slowly inches his weight off.

There’s a click and you squeeze your eyes shut. Waiting.

It doesn’t blow.

“Fuck,” he hisses, resting his palms on his thighs, catching his breath. You sigh in relief and he pins you with an unamused stare.

“Some thanks for saving your life would be nice,” you say, and he ignores you. The thunder is louder this time, vibrating against your bones.

“Let’s get moving,” Fett orders, as a few fat raindrops start to fall on your heads.

“Back to camp?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“It’d take too long. Let’s find somewhere to hunker down.” The two of you set off in the opposite direction, moving as quickly as you can as the rain picks up. ~~~ He’s damn lucky.

Squinting through the curtain of rain, Boba follows you as the two of you try to find somewhere to take shelter.

It makes him wish he had his helmet, but he’s not complaining, because he’s damn lucky.

Even now, his hands are still shaking so badly that he keeps them clenched into fists, ignoring the way his legs feel weak and wobbly. He’ll take that to his grave, thank you very much.

But still, being forced to confront his own mortality twice in less than a week is not doing great things for his mental space, especially when he has to deal with you, instead of having peace and quiet to process everything.

“Up ahead,” he calls, seeing a rocky overhang that juts out enough to offer some cover.

Cold rain runs down the back of his neck, slipping underneath the collar of his flight suit and sending shivers down his spine.

It worsens his mood, his frustration making it hard to concentrate. You slide underneath the rock, the space just big enough for the two of you to sit shoulder-to-shoulder, heads brushing the rock above you.

“I hate the rain.” Boba blinks at you as the words slip from the both of you in unison.

“Ha,” you say, nudging your shoulder with his. He shoves back, disliking the contact. “Figures we’d have something in common.” Boba scowls out at the grey curtain cutting the two of you off from the rest of the world.

Rain makes his bones ache, makes him feel cold and clammy, and it’s just so loud.

“It’ll pass,” he says, not sure if he’s reassuring himself or you. You glance at him.

“I know. But if you get sick again, I’m going to be pissed.” He rolls his eyes.

“Not gonna get sick.” You don’t look convinced, your hands twisting in your lap. Rainwater that must have been collecting above him gushes over the side of the rock, running down his side, soaking him. Boba glares, biting back the groan and unintentionally shifting closer to you.

“Easy, big guy,” you say, and he looks down to find your hand in the center of his chest piece as he ends up nearly in your lap.

“It’s getting too wet over here,” he says, glad that his brown skin hides the way he can feel his cheeks getting hot.

With a long-suffering sigh, you scoot over, towards the edge on your side, and he moves closer, hating that his options are touching you or sitting in the small waterfall.

“If it isn’t raining, it broiling hot,” you say. “I wish we could just have one day with moderate temperatures and nothing trying to kill us. No cliffs, no killer cats, and no fucking mines.” Boba snorts.

“I dunno. Mines and cliffs are easy enough to avoid. If there wasn’t any challenge, we might get bored.” You roll your eyes at him, and Boba looks away, momentarily distracted by the strange jump in his chest.

It’s the physical contact, he decides. He hasn’t had something like that in years, not since Jango died. Obviously, he’s had lovers. But it’s different, a quick release that ends just as soon as it’s begun.

The last time he sat this close to someone? And didn’t do anything else, but just sat? He couldn’t say.

“What if it doesn’t let up? Do we camp here?” You make a good point, but he’s not exactly sure where the two of you are, and the rain makes it hard to see where you’ve been. Trying to navigate your way back to camp could prove fatal.

“We don’t have to make a decision yet,” he says, giving you a non-answer that has you rolling your eyes again.

“Sure thing, boss,” you mutter, tilting your head back and closing your eyes. Your brow stays furrowed, like you’re thinking about something that’s troubling you. Boba stares at the rain, willing it to stop. It doesn’t work. It never does, but it didn’t stop him from trying when he was a little boy and it doesn’t stop now.

“How does a person like you end up on a bounty hunter’s radar?” he asks, hating the silence. You open one eye, glancing at him, unamused.

“You know how. It’s the same as it always is.” Objectively, he knows the answer. Jabba put the bounty out, so it has something to do with the Hutts. It’s why he took this job.

But he wants to know what exactly you, of all people, did to merit being hunted down, other than being a wise-ass.

You clench your hands in your lap, twisting your fingers around each other. There’s a barely contained anger there, simmering just below the surface. He recognizes it because he sees it in himself, an odd realization to have.

“That can’t be the whole story,” he prods. “You weren’t worth the fuel it took to find you.” Your jaw clenches and you stare pointedly into the rain.

“And yet, it is.” You don’t offer anything else, just take a few measured breaths in and out, calming your temper. It’s a little impressive actually, to see that you are capable of reigning in your blistering comments. ~~~ You know what he’s doing. He’s probing, trying to learn more about you. What you don’t know is why. You two might be allies, but you’re certainly not friends.

He scraps a spare blade over the side of the rock, sharpening it.

Most likely he’s asking because he still can’t believe that the Hutts are really that petty. Regrettably? They are.

Fett shifts beside you, his knee brushing yours, and you resist the urge to shove him away. You’re cranky right now, back stiff and stinging with the stitches.

And just when you’d started to dry out from the last afternoon thunder shower, here you are, soaking wet again.

Your head hurts too, most likely from dehydration and hunger, and you’re to the point where you just want to tear into something with your hands. Fett’s looking more and more like a solid target, especially if you have to keep sitting in close quarters like this.

“Something is jamming my fucking signal,” Fett says, breaking the silence. Slowly, you turn to look at him.

He shows you the same button on his wrist he was messing with when you climbed to the high point on the island. Once more, it blinks red twice, then shuts off.

“It’s not just dead?” you ask, unsure how it works.

“No, it’s not dead. This thing is meant to be used in emergencies. It’s powerful and can pick up any frequency. When it can connect. Even if there’s no one in the area, it should let me transmit something out, to be heard if someone gets near us.” You hear the unintentional emphasis on “if.” Not knowing exactly where you are in the galaxy makes this ten times harder.

For all you know, the two of you could be in the far reaches, where people rarely — if ever — make it.

“Have you been trying it out this whole time?” He gives you his signature side-eye, before slapping it a little harder.

“When I’ve been awake and able, yes. I’m not an idiot.” Your mouth opens of its own volition, the scathing reply poised to leap off your tongue, Fett unintentionally setting you up perfectly.

And just like that, it quits raining, saving you from most likely putting your foot in your mouth again and starting another fight with Fett.

The last remnants of rain drip down the branches of the trees, soaking into the ground, filling the jungle with a quiet hush. You peer into foliage, watching as a steamy mist rises up from the warm ground.

Now that the rain has stopped, it’s humid, everything around you clammy. Fett wastes no time brushing past you, slicking his hair back, the curls unruly and wet.

He peers into the jungle around you, eyes scanning the foliage.

“Does any of this look familiar?” he asks, and you’re tempted to say yes, just so he thinks you’re more useful than you currently are.

“No,” you say honestly. “I think we made a wrong turn.” Fett rolls his eyes.

“There is no ‘we’ in this. You got us lost.”

“Ehh,” you say, face screwing up. “Maybe technically, but really I told you from the beginning. I don’t know how I got there.” His scoff is filled with contempt, and he shoves your shoulder.

“That way. That’s the direction of the caves. We’ll try again tomorrow.” The prospect of spending another day hiking through the jungle in the broiling heat and inevitable rain does not fill you with joy, but you figure it’s in your best interest not to argue right now.

So you stomp forward, crashing through the foliage, generally being as loud as you can, because you’re learning that the creatures who inhabit this island dislike the noise and tend to run from it.

You round the corner of another large boulder, and freeze.

The tree.

In the misty steam rising from the jungle floor, it’s not as clear as it was the last time, but it’s definitely the tree, the same moss covering it as last time. There’s the pool beside it; you're unable to see the waterfall trickling down, but able to hear it in the hushed stillness all the same.

Fett rams into your back, nearly knocking you over, and you don’t even protest at the sudden sharp pain from your stitches.

You just keep staring at the tree, the mist moving all around, like another entity.

Your tongue sticks to the roof of your mouth, unwilling to break the silence, even to tell him this is it. The sun is still overhead, and if you look behind you, you can see it peeking through the trees. But in front of you, this tree and its little haven, remain shrouded in shadows.

Your eyes fall to the base of the tree, where you know the patch of grass rests, housing the long-forgotten bones.

You force your foot forward, having difficulty picking it up, like you’re slogging through layers of mud.

You shouldn’t be here.

The words come unbidden to your mind, whispered as clear as day, like someone spoke them into your ear. Fett hasn’t moved either, looking between you and the tree. He squints at something, resting on a root beside the tree. The dark shape looks familiar, and you’re fairly certain it wasn’t here last time.

A cold wind whistles through the trees above your head, stirring the mist and rushing over your arms, like two cold hands.

You back up a step, bumping into Fett again. Something is wrong here. You shouldn’t be here. There’s a pregnant pause, the anticipation nearly killing you, everything in your body telling you to run.

You blink. Once. Twice.

The mist fades away. Gradually, the sun seeps into the clearing, the cold wind replaced by the same balmy breeze everywhere else on the island.

In the absence of the mist, you can see what the shape is.

“Is that my fucking helmet?” Fett speaks first, disrupting the silence and causing you to jump. He charges forward before you can stop him, and you have no choice but to follow, feet no longer stuck to the ground.

He snatches it up and spins on you, finger pointed in accusation.

“Is this why you didn’t want to come here? Why you’ve been leading me in fucking circles? Real funny.” You’re shaking your head, genuinely afraid, but not of him. It feels like he’s disturbing something, being too loud when he should grab the helmet and get the hell out of here.

“I didn’t know,” you whisper. “It wasn’t here last time. I swear.” Your eyes fall to the patch of grass, the bright green almost unnatural against the dark moss.

Is there—? Yes, just there, the white of the bone. Only, it looks like it’s been rearranged, because you definitely left that thing sticking up more.

“Fett, we need to go,” you say softly, and he must hear something in your voice that your words are not saying, because he blinks and looks around for the first time.

The leaves brush together above you, sounding like a crowd whispering. Debating something. The sun shifts again, slipping out of the clearing, and you watch as the mist starts to swirl back up. The cold returns, and you take a quick step back, as shivers race up and down your spine.

Fett tugs his helmet on and reaches for a blaster.

“Don’t,” you risk calling. “Let’s go.” You take another step back, out of the clearing, into the sunny jungle. Fett looks back at the tree one more time, before he follows you.

Neither of you speak for the entire trek back to the cave.

When the sun sets, Fett tightens his grip on his blaster, and you notice the way he stokes the fire higher, until it lights up every corner of the cave.

[strawberrymilk-sunshine]

Finally reunited, my darling.

It's spooky month!

Warning(s): kinda yandere behaviour from Riddle, mentions of decapitation, Riddle straight-up kills you

As a child, you heard rumours of an old house known as Rose Manor. The most well-known of those rumours was that the young master of the house would behead his servants whenever they messed up, and when the remaining servants had enough of walking in eggshells around him, they turned the tables and beheaded him. They say that the young master was cursed to linger on in this world forever, as punishment for his cruelty. And they say the same curse befell the four servants who defended their master up until the bitter end.

Rose Manor has sat abandoned for years on end.

But today, you decided to visit it.

You entered the house, flashlight in hand.

To be honest, even though you don't think the rumours of the master lingering on after death had any truth to them, you couldn't help but feel ever so slightly scared.

Buildings that have been abandoned tend to always have a creepy feeling to them.

But you know that, realistically, nothing is amiss in this house. There may be a rat or two thanks to nobody caring for the place, but it's not like you're gonna run into the reanimated skeletal remains of someone...

"Boo."

You screamed out in fear after hearing a voice that wasn't your own. You spun around quickly to see who it was, and who you saw was... some redhead with a heart marking on his face, wearing what looked to be a fancy burial outfit.

"Ace! It's not nice to scare people you don't know!" Someone with a spade marking on his face, who was wearing very similar clothes, said as he entered the scene.

"It doesn't matter that much Deuce, I doubt they're gonna stay here much longer." Ace said. "Besides! This is the most entertainment I've had in years!"

"My apologies, we haven't had company in a very long time, it seems Ace here forgot how to be polite to guests." Deuce told you.

"Um... w-who... are you, exactly...?" You asked the enigmatic pair.

"Ace Trappola and Deuce Spade, at your service." Ace introduced, doing a fancy little bow. "We live here, along with three other guys."

"Wha- three? There's no way! This place is abandoned, and has been for years! If five people were living here, I think people would know about that by now."

"We only appear when we want to." Ace explained, not actually clarifying anything.

"Oh! I bet Cater would be excited to see someone new!" Deuce exclaimed. "Come on, follow me."

Deuce grabbed your hand, sending a chill down your spine. He led you around the manor, into the kitchen. There were two more people there, one with a diamond marking, and one with a clubs marking.

"Oh. Hey, Loosey-Deucey! What ya got there?"

"A guest!" Deuce excitedly proclaimed.

"Ooh, haven't had one of those in a while! Hang on, lemme get the ol' formal introduction ready, been a while since I've had to do this, ahaha...!" He cleared his throat and bowed to you. "Greetings and welcome to Rose Manor! My name is Cater Diamond, unfortunately our master is not available at the moment. Would you like me to show you around?"

"I don't see Riddle being available anytime soon..." The other one sighed. "My name's Trey Clover. I'm the chef here."

"Aw, don't be such a downer, Trey!" Cater lightly punched Trey on the arm. "I'm sure Riddle will be feeling better any day now! He'll come to us and apologize for everything! And then, we can all peacefully m-"

"Cater, you know that isn't true."

"So, um... who exactly is 'Riddle'?" You asked, trying to break the heavy silence.

"Oh, he's the master of the house." Ace explained. "I had a fight with him a while ago, and he's being pissy about it and refusing to apologize." Trey looked uncomfortable at the wording Ace used.

"My neck hurts just hearing his name..." Deuce mentioned.

"Hey, you! Uh... just realized I never got your name." Ace looked slightly embarrassed.

"It's (Y/N)."

"Say, (Y/N), why don't you stay the night here?" Ace asked. "Maybe you could get Riddle to apologize to us!"

"What? Me? I'm flattered you think I'm a problem solver, but that is absolutely not what I am."

"Actually, it might be worth a shot." Trey said. "Maybe having someone new speak to him regarding the issue could help."

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive.

"What's going on here?"

"Hi Riddle! We were just talking about you! What a coinkidink, yeah?" Cater happily waved.

Riddle was a short boy with grey eyes and red hair, wearing the same burial clothes as the rest of them.

"Are you ready to apologize for cursing all of us yet?" Ace asked.

"It wasn't my fault, understand? I was just doing what my mother would do... it's everyone else's fault we're cursed."

"Ugh, excuses excuses." Ace rolled his eyes. Riddle looked angry, and turned to leave- but before he could leave, Ace grabbed Riddle's head and literally pulled it off of his body, leaving you horrified.

"H-hey! Put my head back on my body this instant, Ace!"

"Not until you apologize, and mean it."

"Ace, you know this never works." Trey said.

"PUT MY HEAD BACK THIS INSTANT, ACE TRAPPOLA, OR I WILL-" Riddle finally noticed you, and calmed down for a moment. "Who... who is that...?" Riddle's body pointed at you, showing he still had control over his headless body, which only freaked you out more.

"That's (Y/N)! They'll be staying with us tonight!" Deuce happily introduced you. You awkwardly waved to the disembodied head Ace was holding.

"Ahem, my sincerest apologies, (Y/N). Had I known we had a guest over, I'd have acted more politely." Riddle told you. "My name is Riddle Rosehearts, I am the master of this house. I hope you enjoy your stay."

After realizing all of these boys are undead, you tried to leave the house. However, all of them kept you from leaving.

But that's fine, that's completely fine! After all, you're only staying here for a single night.

You're only staying here for a single night...

"(Y/N), wake up."

You shot awake, and found Riddle on top of you.

"AH-! Get off m-"

"(Y/N)." Riddle placed his cold, dead hand on your cheek. "Your face. Your personality. Everything about you. You're identical in every way to my fiance in life." He explained. "It's been hundreds of years, but you're exactly as I remember, my darling."

"Huh? W-what are you talking about, Riddle?!"

"While in life, my fiance was the one who encouraged my servants to revolt and behead me... I completely understand what was going through your head at the time, I understand you thought it was necesarry at the time!" Riddle told you. "But now, now... now we can have the grand wedding my mother desired! We'll always be together, in sickness and in health! In life and in death! We've finally been reunited, my darling."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" You yelled, starting to feel unsettled.

"That's ok, dear... you'll have plenty of time to understand. We have eternity, after all." He smiled, an ever so feint blush spreading across his face. "Ace, Deuce, Trey, Cater... we've all accepted that we're never going to rest peacefully. Thanks to my cruelty in life, the five of us are trapped in this world for eternity... but if you were forever with me, as you were in life, then I believe this eternal punishment may not feel as bad."

Riddle pulled out a knife.

Before you could protest, beg for your life, anything... it was lodged in your throat, and you were choking on your own blood.

"Linger on in this world forever with me, my darling."

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

Okay so I'm seeing a lot of 'Sun sucks at cooking he he can't make cereal properly leave the cooking to Moon he's the best at it' in domestic aus

And that's great! I love that idea! But consider the following: absolutely none of you know anything about cooking.

I mean, sure, Sun's been cutting apple slices with peanut butter for so long he's got it down to an art, and his PB &J sandwiches are to die for. Moon's got directions to make tea and applesauce and instant jello for the kids that they share in their headspace. But that's pretty much the limit for their cooking expertise. So put them near a toaster? Yeah, they can figure it out. A microwave? Moon put a fork in it to see what would happen after Sun saw something about it online and got to 20 seconds before you slam into the kitchen and shut it off. And then talk their audio receptors off by scolding them for putting metal in the microwave and being in the kitchen without your supervision.

All you have to send them is a look and they decide to leave the oven alone.

Speaking of your skills...

Well.

While you're no 'master chef', you've picked up enough to scrape by. A few years on your own will do that to you. Compared to what your boys know, you're practically a god in the kitchen.

So you, with your grand total of maybe 15-20 recipes (half of which have cottage cheese or yogurt incorporated into them) are appointed head of the kitchen.

You're really only slightly better than the boys, but you at least know how to turn on a stove. Still, your skill level is really only enough to make the same few meals throughout the week. So, you all decide to figure it out together.

You look up some recipes online, grab some stuff from the store and dump it all onto the counter. The ingredients are nothing you haven't seen before (the boys regard the flour as some foreign and ancient play-doh from the stone ages), but you can't remember the last time you bought some of this stuff.

After you take in the wonders of vanilla extract and brown sugar, you pick something hopefully easy enough that it'll be impossible to mess up. Cookies aren't that hard. You remember making them when you were younger, and they usually came out alright.

You also remember that you were 9 and had adult supervision to make sure you didn't screw up.

And now you're the most competent adult in this operation.

You try not to picture the apartment going down in flames.

It doesn't actually go terribly. You manage to handle it pretty well, all things considered. Moon grabs your wrist before you pour the eggs into the flour, reminding you that you're supposed to do your dries, then your wets, and then your chips. You're pretty sure he only reminded you so he can keep sneaking chips into his cheeks when you're not looking, but you let him have it. You also elect not to say anything when you catch them pouring more chips into the bowl when you're not looking.

Sun spends the entire time obsessing over the shape of the cookies, making sure they're all perfectly rounded and spread out on the pan. Moon wedges a chocolate chip deep into the center of a few of them, watching his brother panic over the now 'ruined' cookies. He gets over it eventually, though, joining his brother in front of the oven to watch the dough rise and expand as the torturous waiting for them to bake begins. You pull out the tray and inspect your work.

They're...not that bad, in all honesty. There are little things that could be improved, but otherwise, you're pretty proud of your guy's progress.

You're not as happy about the mess, though. It looks like a hurricane has stormed through your kitchen, a fact that is quickly brought to the attention of your boys as they scramble to wipe down countertops and toss eggshells away.

...

I dunno how to end this cuz my endings suck so there it is, thank you for attending my ted talk.

[pain-in-the-butler]

I hope this question doesn't bother you, but I wanted to ask you a bit about that weston arc rewrite you mentioned once in your tags? Like, any kind of info is welcome.

Hi again, friend! It's not a bother to be asked things like this in the least! And I'm definitely excited to ramble about my writing, so thank you! Here's some bare bones of what I've thought up for this AU so far:

Cricket's O-U-T. Yana did fine with the sports angle, especially in retrospect (at the time, everyone was sick of it), but I want to focus on character drama because I think it's juicier -

Instead, I'm changing the angle of the Weston arc to consistently be about the school's social dynamics, with the emphasis on becoming a prefect's fag like it was in the canon arc's first half -

Being a prefect's fag in this AU means automatically becoming a prefect when the prefect graduates (can't remember if this is what it means in the canon story). Therefore, these positions are sought out by students who care about the hierarchy to any degree -

Maurice Cole is going to have a slightly different role this time around. He's not Redmond's fag yet but he wants to be more than anything. As a second-born son, he sees it as the one chance he'll get in life to feel what it is to have an inheritance, and so he and that enormous chip in his shoulder covet the position like anything -

I want Cole's villainy to be much campier. Instead of threatening actual violence and humiliation, he merely threatens to kick boys out of his posse. However, he has pretty big plans for the school — plans that would make particular students want to stay in his good graces... -

Students in different dorms will get along and become friends. The standoffishness between dorms was really just there in the canon to make it easier for Yana to hide certain details until later down the line, but it doesn't actually make much sense. There won't be so much rivalry this time -

While I'm going to try not to venture fully into Dadbastian territory, I do want Ciel and Sebastian to examine their relationship more closely following the Campania incident and consider what they would feel if the other was out of their lives forever. Is Ciel just a meal and is Sebastian just a loyal dog? Or do they actually maybe care about each other's well-being? I wonder.................. -

Sebastian wouldn't be a professor this time! Sorry, but I just never bought him becoming a dorm master so easily. Where'd the old one go? Do the Blue House students not see Seb's arrival as weird at all? Don't they have any loyalty to their last dorm master lol?? The idea's frankly too underdeveloped -

Instead, Sebastian is going to work in the Blue House kitchens as a chef. He isn't very excited about being so out of the way from the action, but Ciel has his reasons for wanting him there... -

The student body will talk about Derrick Arden going missing as if it is an actual big deal. But there will be more details that muddy the waters around Derrick's disappearance... as well as revelations that come to light sooner than they do in Yana's telling -

Now for the biggest change: it will be addressed to the reader from the get-go that Ciel is pretending to be his brother. I have always wanted to explore what it would be like if we knew from near the start that Ciel was faking his entire identity. The Weston arc may not take place close to the beginning of Kuro, but I think it's as good a chance as any for me to showcase how revealing Ciel's identity early on pointblank has a lot of potential for drama and character building

There's a lot that I haven't really decided yet, to be honest, but there are also a few twists and tricks that I would LOVE to mess around with. I kind of let my stories slowly incubate over time, though, so I hope when I actually get to writing this, everything will be in place and I can just go for it. It should be a very fun project, if and when the time comes...

Thank you for asking! I hope this answer piqued your interest... though it'll probably be another two years before any of it gets written lol 😈