#STUPID BRO WHY ARE YOU BAKING AND MAKING STUFF DIFFICULT

[mossmx]

I got about 600 words of useless fic that I might scrap because I got on the wrong track...

I just wanted smell based PWP why the fuck I cannot make them fuck ò___ò

[absolutepokemontrash]

I come bearing a request! The Brothers with an MC who's really good at cooking and baking? Like, the stuff food blogs dream of. Master-level instagram pastries. Could compete with the chocolate guy if they put their mind to it.

👀 ooooo, I do love me some pastries-

(I know you have an *ahem* distaste for Lucifer, dear moot, so enjoy Lucifer acting like a bit of a dingus in his section!)

Lucifer

Oh, the human can cook. *insert asshole eyeroll here*. Great. Wonderful. Groundbreaking. That’s what’s got all his brothers acting like- what was that word Levi used? Simps? This human has turned six of the seven rulers of hell into a bunch of simps.

Sure, the human has near godlike cooking prowess. Sure, everyone looks forward to their day for cooking. And sure, everyone thinks the human’s pretty great.

Tsk, not him though. He’s a refined demon. Some silly food isn’t going to make him a lovesick fool… did he smell eclairs..?

Lucifer peered into the kitchen to see MC carefully taking a tray of eclairs out of the oven and letting them cool off on the counter. His favourite dessert… right there in front of him…

Due to not being a total moron, MC notices Lucifer and asks him what the hell he’s doing just standing ominously in the doorway. Lucifer makes up some bullshit excuse about reminding MC to do their homework and just leaves. Okay, game plan, he needs those fucking eclairs or he will spontaneously combust.

As he snuck into the kitchen that night, Lucifer took a moment to briefly wonder why he was creeping around his own house. He was the Avatar of Pride for pity’s sake! He could eat whatever he damn well pleased! Oh shit was someone coming- no? Okay, back to sneaking.

Lucifer crept into the kitchen, saw the eclairs, and all logic was thrown out the window. Time to eat!

“BEEL NO! NOT THE- Lucifer..?” “…” “…” “…you’re very talented, MC, do you mind making more of these?”

SOMEONE SNAP A PICTURE! THIS IS THE CLOSEST LUCIFER HAS GOTTEN TO BEGGING IN THE LAST THOUSAND YEARS!

Mammon

Ugh, stuck babysittin’ some dumb human, how lame…

As Mammon was throwing a “I’m broke and I’m stuck in a pact with a dumb human” pity party, the most heavenly smell entered his nostrils. Cooking… good cooking… was Barbatos visiting or somethin’? Nah, Lucifer woulda made a big fuss about gettin’ ready for Lord Diavolo. Huh, so what was goin’ on in the kitchen?

Huh? The human? The human can cook? Well damn, maybe this whole deal wouldn’t be so bad. Oi! MC! As payment for babysittin’ ‘em, he got to have an extra big share of- OW!

Did- did the human just hit him with a spoon?! Th-they can’t do that!

Apparently they fucking can. Mammon gets told to sit the fuck down and wait for the food like everyone else. He grumbles on the way to the dining room, but he can’t fully hide his excitement to try the food.

The food even looked pretty! How did they do that?! Magic. It had to be!

After everyone’s tastebuds were blessed with the heavenly substance that is MC’s culinary exploits, Mammon decides he needs to get on this human’s good side in order to receive more food! Maybe even find some way to make a profit or somethin’!

After weeks go by of trying to suck up to the human without looking like too much of a chump, Mammon eventually realizes… hey, this human ain’t so bad. They’re nice, they make him feel good about himself, they give him headpats… he’s really hit the jackpot here!

He’ll offer to help MC bake or cook, but beware, he will try and sample the food before it’s done. Don’t let him lick the spoon!!!

Leviathan

First thought? This human ain’t shit. Thought after seeing their food? WOAAAAAAAH! JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME-

He was unceremoniously cut off by Beel asking demanding seconds. Humph, fine, he doesn’t actually care about this dumb normie food anyway.

…well at least until Levi saw a little something something on TV that he just had to ask MC to try and make. He shyly knocked on their door and when they answered, Levi shoved the screenshot in their face and stuttered out a dinner request.

On the day MC was supposed to make dinner, Levi poked his head into the kitchen and tried to make it look like he was just standing in the same room as MC and not checking to see if they were making his dinner request.

Not that he’d blame them for not doing that… who’d wanna make some anime dinner for a yucky Otaku- OMG JAHSHSHABA THEY’RE MAKING IT! *fangirl squeals*

As Levi continues to commit the SIN of being in the kitchen at the same time as someone else, MC eventually just asks him if he’d like to help out.

“Here! Just keep turning the takoyaki.” “R-really? You trust me?” “Yes, Levi. You watched how they made it on your show, right?” “Yes! I won’t mess up! I swear on my honour as an otaku!”

All in all, it was a very cute bonding experience for the two. Now it’s a regular thing. Levi requests something for dinner or dessert, MC makes it, Levi helps out.

Satan

So, the human can cook. That’s nice. At least someone in this literally god forsaken house can.

He makes sure to thank MC every time they cook, then he makes sure to thank whatever deity is watching over him that Solomon wasn’t the human staying with them.

As the months progress, Satan realizes, he should learn how to cook better. I mean, Levi and Mammon were somehow both improving in their cooking endeavours, and if MC could teach those two, then he would be a breeze.

Satan walked into the kitchen and simply asked if MC needed any assistance with what they were doing. MC just slid him some garlic to dice and that’s how this mentor/student relationship was formed.

Satan was a star pupil, but Mammon and Levi weren’t above trying to sabotage Satan’s progress to get him to leave.

Here’s the thing, the sabotage worked, but it only worked once, and the two idiots didn’t stop to think that maybe they shouldn’t sabotage the meal they were going to have to eat later.

Well, cooking lessons continued uninterrupted after the ghost pepper incident…

Even when he’s ‘graduated’ their little cooking class, Satan’s always willing to lend a hand if needed. He also will slyly hand over some recipe books and cute baking supplies that he finds. MC should be prepared for lots of cat related things to come their way.

Asmodeus

The human can cook? Oh frabcious day! He’s saved from a life of his brother’s mediocre cooking! And the human’s so cute too! What a bonus!

Not only is the human cute, but their food is just so… aesthetic??? Pretty???? Omigosh he just has to get a picture for Devilgram!

For the first few months, MC’s relationship with Asmo consists of Asmo not at all subtly asking to take pictures of their food and post it to his Devilgram. Listen MC, his followers would just love it!

Being the saint-sheep they are, MC lets Asmo sit in whenever they’re making anything in the kitchen. And Asmo slowly realizes “hey, this cute human with the awesome food is actually pretty cool too!”

New Mission: Make the human fall madly in love with him so they’ll want to hang out more.

Whether the mission succeeds is up to MC of course. (I mean, I’m already smitten with him sooooooooo-)

MC offers Asmo a lot of the pastries they make, but the Avatar of Lust almost always declines. Listen honey, he’s on a diet- wait, don’t make that sad face! He’ll eat it! Look! It’s- it’s delicious…

Diet cheat day is now every day MC makes dessert. The feeling of bliss Asmo gets when he takes a bite out of anything MC makes is only second of the treats is second only to the joy he feels at seeing MC happy that he likes their food. It’s just so wholesome I can’t-

MC’s food Devilgram has almost surpassed Asmo in terms of followers and honestly- he isn’t even mad.

Beelzebub

Gasp! Lucifer finally got him the pet personal chef he’d always wanted! Thanks big bro! :D he’ll be sure not to eat this human!

On the first night MC was supposed to make dinner, Lucifer needed to hold Beel back from breaking into the kitchen to see what was causing that heavenly smell. It was, difficult… especially because Lucifer hadn’t slept in three days.

When they all sat down to eat, Beel practically inhaled everything and held up his half bitten plate for seconds.

We here at Stupid Headcanons incorporated recommend that MC have as many bodyguards as possible stationed around the kitchen at all times to ward off a hungry Beel. We don’t want him eating the ingredients and half-tempered chocolate.

A cinnamon roll through and through, he’ll eat everything MC gives him with a big ol’ smile on his cute little face. He’s not the best person to go to if MC wants advice or critique because the best thing Beel can usually muster is “it was really good.”

As Luke said in Lesson 5, Beel would make an awful food reporter. But we love him.

Similar to Levi, he’ll give meal requests on what to make for dinner. (At this rate, MC’s going to have to make some kind of list).

He kind of just waits by the door like a sad puppy whenever MC is making anything because he can’t get into the kitchen :(

Belphegor

The smell of freshly made chocolate chip cookies wafting through the house did reach the attic and it only fuelled his rage more. How dare the human win everyone over with cookies?!

After the attic incident, Belphie was won over with cookies.

Belphie just stands creepily in the kitchen doorway whenever MC is making anything and just makes shit really uncomfortable. Why’s he doing that, you may be wondering, well, he’s trying to calculate the energy needed to swipe the bowl of cookie dough and sprint to safety.

He never succeeds, mainly because once he gets to the bowl, MC already has the wooden spoon ready to smack him, so he just freezes mid-theft and slowly puts the bowl down.

“Oh my gosh, it says let the bread dough rest overnight? Let’s get a headstart and go to sleep now.” “Belphie what-” “I made a pillow Fort, come in. Let’s sleep.” “In the kitchen????”

How’d he make the pillow Fort without MC noticing? Years of experience. He’s trained in the art of- MC? What do you mean you can’t sleep right now and you need to get a head start on shaping fondant?

…he may have eaten the fondant while MC wasn’t looking… whoops… Beel may have rubbed off on him a little…

[spidercakes]

Tony stark is a well known mob boss and he meets and falls in love with Baker! Peter parker

Oh, I love the trend of mob boss!Tony and baker!Peter in this fandom :)

*

Peter fiddles with his apron nervously, unsure of himself as Tony takes a bite of one of the cannolis that he made. Its not really that he doubts his skill as a baker, he knows he’s good at it actually, its just that Tony is Italian so he has more of an expertise in Italian food. Which Peter knows because Tony has told him. Also, apparently he sucks at cooking and despite being his grandfather’s favorite he was routinely called a disappointment over his lack of skills in the kitchen. Apparently that was the only time he was ever insulted by his grandfather, which seemed to be a rare thing because the man was supposedly difficult to please, but still.

He lets out a breath of air that he hadn’t known he’d been holding when Tony all but shoves the rest of it into his mouth. “That’s fucking good,” he says around the food and Peter smiles.

“You’re not just saying that, are you?” he asks and Tony snorts.

“When have you known me to lie?” he asks and right, good point. Tony is a pretty blunt person, sometimes a little too blunt for his own good. 

“Okay, good point,” he says as Tony eats another cannoli. Well, the good news is that his cannolis don’t taste like ass according to at least one actual Italian.

“You have any more of these?” Tony asks, gesturing to the now empty plate.

Peter smiles, “I might have some more in the back,” he says. “Just for you,” he adds, a little unsure of himself but Tony looks enthusiastic about it or maybe he just wants the pastries…

“Earth to Peter,” Tony says, raising an eyebrow and Peter snaps to because right, the cannolis. He lets out a nervous laugh and disappears into the back to grab the rest of the pastries, stuffing them all into a box and bringing them back out.

“Um. Here,” he says, a little flustered and he really shouldn’t be by now. He’s used to how attractive Tony is but he always feels a little caught off guard with it. Especially when he smiles like he does now.

“What do I owe you?” he asks and Peter shakes his head.

“Oh, those were a test recipe so nothing. I was going to probably give them to my roommate if you didn’t like them anyway.” Ned’s a bit of a human dumpster and frankly so is MJ. If Tony didn’t like them one of the two of them probably would have eaten them on account of they’re food and they both like food in any form.

“You saying you made them just for me?” Tony asks and Peter can’t tell if its flirtatious or just part of Tony’s overly large personality.

“I mean. Kind of. I wanted an opinion from someone who’s actually Italian,” he says. Or at least the kind of Italian that grew up with the cuisine, unlike most of the Italians he happens to know.

“And here I thought it was because you liked me,” Tony says, pouting.

Peter laughs, “well, and also that. I could have asked that little Italian grandmother but I think she would have cussed me out in Italian,” he says.

Tony lets out a sharp laugh, “oh, you only think that because you don’t know what she’s saying half the time. Trust me, she wouldn’t curse you out she just looks grumpy all the time,” he says.

“Wait, what does she say?” he asks, ignoring how amused Tony looks because he has a need to know.

“All flattering things, I promise,” Tony tells him, dark eyes glittering.

“Aw come on, Mr. Stark tell me what she says!” He leans forward with interest and for a moment he swears he sees a bit of lust on Tony’s features but it disappears too fast for him to properly identify it.

For a moment he thinks Tony might tell him but instead he gives Peter a quick once over. “You have plans for tonight?” he asks.

The sharp change in subject confuses Peter for a moment but he shakes his head. “No, not really. I mean, probably petting my cat and refusing to make baked goods for Ned. He knows I make them all day and if he wants a pie at 3 am he can make his own pie.”

Tony laughs a little, grinning. “Great. How about dinner with me?” he asks and for a moment Peter is thrown because why would Tony want to go to dinner with him? Tony’s a bit, well a lot, out of his league.

“Uh, yeah, okay, sure. Sounds good,” he sputters out, unsure how to handle this and wait, did he seriously just agree to go out with someone who asked him out at work? And how’d Tony make that not skeevy?

*

Peter really doesn’t know how he gets himself into these types of situations but god he so doesn’t regret it. Tony pets up and down his sides and yeah, they’re in a restraint but they’re in a private room so its not like Peter has to worry about much, or at least that’s what he tells himself as he leans in and kisses Tony.

“So pretty for me,” Tony murmurs and Peter shivers at the praise.

“I barely changed out of my work clothes,” he says. Like Tony isn’t dressed so much better than him in that delicious suit of his.

“Doesn’t matter,” Tony tells him, “you’d look good not matter what you wore. Besides, pretty little thing like you in my lap, I figure I should count my blessings,” he murmurs as he leans in and kisses him again.

Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck, pressing himself into him as Tony’s hands find their way to his hips. This is ridiculous, totally ridiculous Peter thinks, sitting in some guy’s lap in a restaurant and making out with him. But then Tony could probably talk him into just about anything and he’d go along with it. When he finally pulls away Tony gives him a lightly disapproving look and Peter rolls his eyes at him. “Don’t give me that look, you don’t know what I’ve got planned,” he says and it piques Tony’s interest enough for him to pay attention. “Please tell me you have a house with a bed,” he says and Tony laughs.

“Of course I do, baby. What do you-” he’d continue but someone walks in and Peter jumps, letting out a small squeak of embarrassment as he turns around. He finds an irritated red head glaring at Tony in particular, hands on her hips.

“Tony Stark, stop trying to bang the baker in a restaurant and answer your damn phone. We’ve got business to deal with,” she tells him.

“Business can wait until tomorrow,” he tells her, hands on Peter’s hips tightening.

“Um,” Peter says, unsure what to do here.

Tony pets his side softly, “don’t worry about her, sweetheart she’s just my assistant,” he murmurs.

“Oh you are pushing your luck,” the red head tells him.

Tony doesn’t look worried and Peter thinks maybe he should. “Tomorrow, Pep. And don’t bother me before noon,” he says.

The red head glares at him for a few more moments before she rolls her eyes. “Don’t bitch when this blows up in your face,” she tells him but she leaves them alone. Peter sags a little in relief and Tony laughs.

“What baby, shy all of the sudden?” he asks. Yeah, Tony has no shame and Peter feels like maybe he should have a little shame.

*

When Peter wakes up in the morning Tony is gone but he left a note telling him to find him in his office. He also finds several missed calls on his phone from Ned so he calls him back, figuring he should let him know that he’s not dead or anything. Ned answers right away and lets out a relieved sigh, “Peter what the fuck,” he says in place of a greeting.

Peter grins, “sorry I didn’t call, I um. Went on a date and it went well,” he says, letting Ned draw his own conclusions.

Ned snickers into the phone, “oh, with anyone I know?” he jokes.

“Not unless you know a Tony Stark,” he says, not anticipating Ned choking into the receiver.

“You went on a date with who?” he asks and Peter frowns.

“Um. Tony Stark? Is that relevant?”

“Relevant? Oh my god, oh my- MJ! You gotta come hear this shit!” he yells, phone obviously away from his face because he sounds a bit far away despite the increased volume of voice.

“What?” he hears MJ mumble in the background.

“Tell her who you just slept with,” Ned says.

Peter rolls his eyes, “Tony Stark and I don’t know why you think that means something to you,” he says.

MJ starts laughing and Ned lets out a long sigh. “Bro, you totally just fucked New York’s most feared mob boss and your stupid ass didn’t even know because I guess you never watch or read the god damn news.”

“There is no way that’s true,” Peter says. He reads the news. Sometimes. Its been awhile but he’s been busy starting a small business, he has to get up early to bake and stuff and has it really been that long since he’s read a news article?

“Holy shit, only Peter,” MJ says. “I will give you this, he’s at least hot.” He decides now is a good time to hang up and get out of bed. He scoops Tony’s discarded shirt off the floor and throws it on before he carefully walks over to the door and cautiously sticks his head out of it, looking down the hallway.

“Office is down the hall to the left,” someone tells him and Peter lets out a surprised squeak. He turns and finds a tall pudgy guy standing by the door in the opposite direction he first looked in. “Relax, this so isn’t the most compromising position I’ve found Tony in. Technically he’s not even here, which is a real treat all things considered. I’m Happy, I already know you’re Peter, and boss doesn’t like to be kept waiting so go on, get out of here,” he says.

Peter has no fucking clue what to make of any of that so he decides to just follow instructions and scampers his way down the hall and to the left, finding the office easy enough after that. He can hear Tony talking in it and the door is open so there’s that. He considers maybe making a run for it but Tony spots him and smiles and oh, right, that’s how Peter ended up here.

“Peter, hey baby. Come here,” Tony says and Peter’s stupid body betrays him and walks over, perching in his lap without a second thought. “How’d you sleep,” he murmurs, kissing the space underneath his jaw.

Peter huffs, “well, fine technically. Ned called like seven million times but I called him back so he knows I’m not dead and apparently you’re a mob boss?” he asks more than states. Tony looks confused but not more than the red head Peter had seen yesterday.

“Your teeny bopper baker doesn’t even know who you are?” she asks, throwing up her hands. “I quit! I’ve had enough of this, I can go work for some rich CEO who is a lot less troublesome than you!” she says, walking out.

“He’s twenty five!” Tony calls after her. “Teeny bopper my ass,” he mumbles.

Peter sits there, unsure what the hell just happened and not quite awake enough to process it. “Um. Sorry your assistant quit on you,” he says but Tony laughs.

“Nah, she’ll be back. She’s put up with worse and she used to work for Justin Hammer, there’s no way she’s willing to do that twice,” he says. “Did you really not recognize me?” Peter shakes his head. “Wow, that’s a first in… well, a long time. No wonder you weren’t scared of me when I walked in. I assumed you were brave.”

“No, apparently just a dumb bitch who doesn’t read the news,” he says. “I’ve been busy with the bakery so like. In my defense I feel like I have a good excuse.”

Tony considers him for a moment, hand settled on his thigh and Peter knows he should just run off, get out of dodge while he can but he stays put. “You okay with this, then?” he asks, eyebrow raising.

Not really, but instead of saying that he says, “well I can’t unfuck you so I guess so.”

Thankfully Tony laughs at that. “Good. Because if you want I’ll take care of you for the rest of your life,” he murmurs. Peter feels like he should be put off by that but he knows Tony, he knows people who work with Tony- apparently underlings or minions of whatever the hell the mob calls them- and they all seem to like him too.

And Peter’s always wanted to be taken care of. “Okay,” he says, sure that whatever he’s just signed on for he won’t regret it.

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

Excuse me! But where is my Sanders Sides Gamer AU???

Voices in my head: Gee Bunny, it seems you have no problem writing a lot of other fics and stuff yet you still haven’t even finished the next chapter of your Spiderverse fic???

Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP DISEMBODIED VOICES IN MY HEAD!!! IF YOU WANT THAT FIC DONE SO BADLY TELL MY LOGIC AND CREATIVITY TO GET THEIR ASSES IN GEAR AND GIVE ME SOME GOD DAMN INSPIRATION!!!!

Voices in my head:.....

Me: Yeah, that’s what I thought! Anyways, idk if I just missed a memo or something but I haven’t seen any Gamer AU of my boys and that is a crime in and of itself! Like, how dare! But fret not, I am here to provide content (Read: headcannons) that you did not ask for! Let us begin! Or should I say start!

(please note that I am not a gaming expert so feel free to add or correct stuff)

NOW WITH A PART 2!!!!

MAIN SQUAD

Roman Rosewood

Obviously loves RPGs! Anything with a good story line really! Or has medieval fantasy aesthetic!

Skyrim, Diablo, Undertale, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, Fallout, Red Dead Redemption, Undertales, Dragon Age, God of War Dark Souls, Assassins Creed, Earthbound, etc.

Played West of Loathing just so he could rip on it but actually ended up loving it and spending way to many hours playing. Then he found out there was a game called Kingdom of Loathing by the same creators and went down that rabbit hole as well.

He was iffy about getting into JRPGs but then Virgil convinced him to play Persona 5 and he absolutely fell in love with the music!

All the music in his phone is either from musicals or Video games!

Also really likes choose your own adventure games like Detroit: Become Human, Life is Strange, and Telltale Games

So much video game merch! Usually figurines because he likes to make little shelves and display cases for them.

He also really likes multiplayer games because he’s a social butterfly and likes to play with his squad.

Sucks at first person shooter games but still willingly plays Fortnight or Call of Duty or Left for Dead with his friends because he doesn’t want to be a drag and complain. But also they sometimes die in game in the most hilarious ways and it just leaves everybody wheezing.

Virgil Dante

Horror games, obvs!

All about that dark aesthetic!

Devil May Cry, Silent Hill, Fran Bow, Sally Face, Resident Evil, The Witch’s House, Amnesia, Little Nightmares, Bendy and The Ink Machine, Alice: Madness Returns, SCP-Containment, Pony Island, etc.

Yes, he’s played all the Five Nights At Freddy’s games. It’s a good series and it isn’t his fault the fandom is bat shit crazy and full of ten year olds! Fuck you Roman!

Every time the Walking Dead comes out he knows he’ll end up crying by the end of it. He and the squad make and event out of it.

Japanese horror games are usually his favorite because they deal more with the psychological aspects of horror instead of the jump scares

So, yes, he’s also a fan of Corps Party and Fatal Frame

Also really good at first person shooters because he has a really steady hand (you usually have to when playing horror games least you want to restart the level) and it pisses Roman off to no end every time Virgil randomly headshots him.

Usually likes to by merch in the form of posters, t-shirts, or beanies. He only buys figurines if it’s a game he really, really likes.

At first didn’t know why people kept bugging him to play Doki Doki Literature Club but then he finally caved and...oh...that’s why.

Logan Mill

My boy loves puzzle and strategy games yo!

Legend of Zelda, Portal, Tetris, Unravel, World of Goo, Inside, Limbo, Pokemon, Shadow of the Colossus, StarCraft, Command and Conquer, Age of Empire, Heart of Iron, World of Warcraft, etc.

He likes Overwatch but doesn’t like playing with people online so he usual solos or asks the others to play. But that too usually ends in chaos.

Hates rage games because he gets frustrated easily and has broken at least four keyboards and two controllers

He still plays them anyways because he can beat it damn it! Just give him a minute!

Enjoys the God of War series despite all the mythological inaccuracies

He plays a lot of Minecraft to relax or destress and has build beautiful works of architecture and sometimes entire cities.

He thought it was stupid and childish and was embarrassed about it for a long time until the squad came over to his house one day uninvited and caught him playing. He was getting ready for them to make fun of him but they instead gushed about how AMAZING everything looked and how TALENTED he was for building all himself.

Logan ends up showing them how to play afterwards and they work together to make weird sculptures and complex tunnels underground.

He likes practical merch like backpacks, coffee mugs, pencil holders, notebooks, ect. as well as a few t-shirts and novelty ties.

Yes, he does collect Pokemon cards!

Patton Adley

Silly dating sims, farming games, and any cute game really! Plus a few side scroller games!

Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, Slime Rancher, The Sims, Dream Daddy, Animal Crossing, Kirby, Monster Prom, Hatoful Boyfriend, Scribblenauts, Night In The Woods, Ni Nu Kuni, etc.

Big Nintendo fan!

He made the mistake of playing Doki Doki Literature Club without reading the warning tags and regrets it immensely...still a good game though.

He did the same thing with Huni Pop but that one made him laugh more then anything and he kind of got addicted to it. Then he found out there was a sequel called HuniCam so he went down that rabbit hole too.

He likes a lot of phone app games too like Cut the Rope, Neko Atsume, and Candy Crush.

Loves trashy dating app games, he thinks they’re so funny and cheesy

He was addicted to Mystic Messenger for a long while

Just because he has his preference doesn’t mean he won’t try other games too, Logan got him hooked on World of Warcraft (though really he did that to everyone), Virgil showed him Hollow Knight, and Roman suggested he play Undertales.

Prefers merch in the form of plushies and key chains!

He likes to bake and decorate cookies, cakes and pastries in the form of his favorite video game characters.

RED SQUAD

Duncan [Deceit] Adley (Patton’s twin)

A lot of first person shooter and combat games!

Doom Series, Super Smash Bros, Mortal Combat, Halo, Fortnight, Grand Theft Auto, Street Fighter, Tekken, Soul Calibur, Half-Life, Team Fortress, Destiny, Wolfenstein, Bio Shock, Splatoon, PUBg etc.

Patton was the one that introduced him to Splatoon and he won’t admit that it’s actually super fun.

Doesn’t mind story driven games and RPGs but he really just wants something he can zone out to and relax

He likes to troll people online, mainly assholes picking on little kids who just want to play.

He once teamed up with a group of kids on Call of Duty solely for the purpose of collectively kicking the asses of this groups of so called “real gamers” that were being jerks.

Has memorized all the combos! He doesn’t have time to sit and look up a cool finishing move, he needs it now!

Always mains the weakest/most useless character in fighting games and still manages to kick everyone’s ass.

Doesn’t have a preference in merch and usually grabs whatever he likes be it figurines, t-shirts, posters, plushies, or whatever, so long as he likes the game it comes from.

Has several tattoos from his favorite games

Emile Picani

Classic retro games, cartoonish games, and Nintendo are his jam broham!

Mario, Classic Sonic, Paper Boy, Transylvania, Spyro, Pac Man, All the Saga Disney games, Duck Hunt, Mario Kart, Galaga, Mega Man, Donkey Kong, Secret of Mana, Banjo-Kazooie, Conker’s Bad Fur Day, etc.

Absolutely fell in love with Shovel Knight when it came out!

Remy got him into all the indie pixel games: Towerfall, Terraria, Owlboy, Hotline Miami, Papers Please, Celeste, One Shot, etc.

Duncan was the one that introduced him to Cuphead and the usually play it together and see how far each of them can go without dying.

The game is difficult but the art is still so breathtaking!

Likes the occasional psychological thriller game

Bet Virgil showed him Alice: Madness Returns and Doki Doki Literature Club (after he’s played it of course)

Likes plushies and figurine merch with the occasional poster and coffee mug.

Likes to doodle a lot of his fav video game characters and cartoons and is actually really good at it. He helped design most of Duncan’s tattoos.

Remy Knightly

Likes a lot of indie games and old online flash games!

The Stanley Parables, Oxenfree, Inside, Firewatch, Super MeatBoy, The Binding of Issac, Donut County, Henry Stickman series, Impossible Quiz, Crush the Castle series, Hyper Light Drifter, etc.

He always gets everybody hooked on one game or another

He convinced everyone to play Undertales so for like a month they all went through a HUGE Undertales faze.

Was the actual, ACTUAL one that showed Duncan Cuphead because he knew the dork would be reminded of Emile because of the animation and would want to show it to him and play multiplayer (*cough* subtle matchmaker *cough*)

(Do not be fooled, he is a pinning boy himself)

Is up to date in all the gossip of the latest games and consuls, indie or mainstream! He’s in the know, know and if you need to know something chances are Remy probably knows it.

Weeds out through all the indie horror games for Virgil and recommends what he thinks are the best ones.

Same thing with Logan and his puzzle games, he’s usually is able to find very strange ones and Logan seems to likes those best.

Obviously has a lot of merch in coffee mug and thermal form as well as a few key chains.

Occasionally streams on Twitch with Duncan and Emile (sometimes inviting the main squad too), they’re commentary is usual hilarious.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Partners in Grime (baon)

Summary:   Stretch has survived a lot over the years. Surviving Edge's vacation week should be a piece of cake.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Mentions of Depression

part of the ‘by any other name’

Read on AO3

-or-

Read More Here

~~*~~

Stretch wasn’t used to babysitting and that was a fact. Oh, he played games with the neighborhood kiddos, showed them experiments and occasionally planned events but he was pretty sure none of their parents had fooled themselves into thinking that anything he did could be called supervision.

He hoped so, anyway, or there was going to be some inevitable disappointment somewhere along the line.

Anyway, so yeah, babysitting. Not so much. He was used to having the house to himself for most of the day where he could sleep in or watch television or go to the lab—

(don’t think about that)

—or post on twitter while hanging out with the chickens. His days weren’t planned so much as they were loosely connected reoccurring events, and Stretch was fine with that.

Having Edge here every day was ruining his carefully disarrayed schedule and he loved Edge, he loved him so much, and he’d love him even more if he’d sit down for five fucking minutes.

Stress, yeah, sure, Stretch was going to gather up his own stress and shove the whole messy wad of it up Ass-gore’s namesake. But Red had warned him if his bro didn’t chill the fuck out, Asgore was considering sending him on a longer vacation and Stretch was pretty sure that was a sanity massacre waiting to happen.

In the interest of saving them all, Stretch would do his duty to Monsterkind and help.

So far, that had consisted of letting Edge do whatever the fuck he wanted around the house. Just because Stretch didn’t see the purpose of attacking the grout with an old toothbrush didn’t mean it wasn’t an important task, (or so he guessed because he’d spent a lifetime not cleaning grout and he hadn’t dusted yet.)

And just because their neighbor’s smiles when he brought them yet another plate of cookies or muffins were getting a little tight didn’t mean there weren’t other people who would appreciate a treat and so what if Stretch was shortcutting two streets away to find them?

Problem was, cleaning and baking looked like they were losing their luster.

He’d give a half-hearted thought to taking Edge into town to go shopping or maybe a movie but subjecting innocent Humans to him didn’t seem like the best way to build good relations between Humans and Monsterkind.

That left sex as Stretch’s main form of entertainment, hey, may as well enjoy the forced confinement, right?

But after a few days even his libido was starting to make flimsy excuses to call it a night, and while Stretch was usually ready for any reason to desecrate the couch again, if they ever wanted anyone else to sit on it again, they were going to need to let it air out for a couple days. At least washing the sheets gave Edge something to do.

That afternoon he was sitting on the poor, abused sofa, still aching pleasantly in a few key areas from earlier when he realized Edge hadn’t followed him back downstairs. The shower had been turned off for a suspiciously long time and he’d believe Red and Sans were swapping condiment preferences along with spit before he’d believe Edge was laying back down for a nap.

It set off more than a few alarm bells. Time to investigate. For the safety of the City and everyone in it.

Who knew that Edge taking a vacation would give him Superman tendencies?

Shortcutting could be silent if he put enough effort into it. Last time he’d bothered was when he was grabbing all the kids during the ‘human invasion’, if that’s what they called a handful of dipshits, but he did it now. Otherwise Edge would hear him on the stairs.

When the void cleared, Stretch could see Edge was sitting on the bed facing away from the door, almost hunched over, a far cry from his usual perfect posture. Checking his phone from the looks of it, naughty naughty.

“what are you dooooooing?” Stretch asked, pleasantly.

Edge jumped and nearly dropped his phone, fumbling to catch it before it fell on the floor. The look on his face was like a damned neon sign, flashing his guilt for all to see.

“Nothing,” he said brusquely.

Oh, yeah, smooth, that’d fool a lie detector, for sure.

“uh huh,” Stretch leaned against the door jamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “nothing. so, my guess is either you’ve taken up watching porn on the sly or you were checking in on your work email. and we both know you’d show me the porn, i always like a good laugh.”

His silence spoke volumes. Edge didn’t like to lie and since he couldn’t Obi-Wan his way out with any ‘some other point of view’ bullshit, he was going with keeping his mouth shut.

Stretch shook his head sadly. His baby was letting him down on the sneak factor; he should’ve checked while he was still in the bathroom. “you know, i promised that i’d keep an eye on you this week. you wanna be responsible for making me break a promise?”

“I didn’t promise,” Edge muttered but he sighed and let Stretch take his hand, followed him back downstairs like the world’s saddest, boniest puppy, “This is ridiculous.”

“uh huh.”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“you’re definitely fine, babe, always loved those jeans.”

“I’ve taken a couple of days, I’ve relaxed—“

“uh…yeah…about that. you might need a refresher on the whole ‘relaxing’ thing. i could google it for you.”

“And I’m ready to be back at work.”

“you and me both.”

“What was that?” Edge asked distractedly.

“sit.” And when he didn’t, Stretch pushed on his shoulders until Edge gave in and finally sat down heavily on the sofa. Sternly, Stretch told him, “stay there.”

When it looked like Edge was probably going to obey even if it was with all the grudging he could muster, Stretch went to the kitchen. Time to bring out the secret weapons.

He came back out with a heavily laden tray, covered in plates that held the sort of things that required toothpicks and stupid green garnishy things, and announced, “i have snacks. i have drinks. we are watching netflix.”

“Where did you get this?” Edge eyed everything suspiciously, like Stretch had taken up poisoning as a part-time job. “I know you didn’t make it.”

Well, if he had, then he would probably be well on his way to his first paycheck as an amateur poisoner. “i did not, my brother did, so it’s probably safe. you know you love his spinach puffs. now, eat and watch tv.”

“Must we?” Edge groaned. He flopped back against the cushions and honestly, this was fascinating from a scientific point of view. Edge on the verge of a tantrum was a state of being that Stretch hadn’t even known existed, much less that he’d be the one to discover it. He should write a paper. “I’ve seen enough television to last the rest of the year.”

“i hope not, i’m looking forward to the new season of ‘masterchef’. anyway, i think you’ll like this one.”

He picked up the controller and started the episode. Bright music began along with a man explaining, “It’s a never-ending battle to fight the clutter—"

Edge sat up and grabbed a spinach puff, stuffing it into his mouth and chewing with an impressive amount of grudgingness before slumping back to glare at the tv.

If Stretch survived this he was asking for a raise.

An hour later and Stretch was ready to mark this one as a win. Edge was riveted in a way even Gordon Ramsey rarely managed. Probably a good thing Stretch had already married him, or he might be on a plane with flowers in hand, ready to spark a little joy.

Stretch wasn’t quite as enamored; he was okay with the show, sure, the host was a sweetheart. It was just a hell of a lot more fun watching Edge. The way he quivered as the families tried to excuse their messiness, like he was resisting the urge to reach through the screen and shake them. His visible satisfaction when they showed they were on the right path and the episode ended with triumph and order.

It was fucking adorable.

He didn’t get to watch Edge like this very often. Usually if they were watching television, Stretch liked to live up to his namesake and stretch out, laying half on Edge and half off the sofa, soaking up the warmth from his blanket and his baby both.

It was moments like these that he was jarringly reminded that Edge really was younger than him, the same age as his little brother. With his crimson eye lights wide and focused on the screen, enchantingly absorbed, he looked his age in a way he rarely did.

He’d gone through so much in his life; some of it was visible on his bones, the crack in his socket was the most obvious but there were others, scars that had healed roughly without a gentle hand to press soothing magic into them. The other scars were buried a hell of a lot deeper and whether they were why he needed a break from work or they were the reason he drove himself so hard to begin with was anyone’s guess.

Stretch had his own theories.

But that combined with his unrelenting attitude made Edge seem older than he was. Didn’t help that it was hard to gauge ages with skeletons. Plenty of Monsters guessed that Stretch was the younger one.

He liked to think it was because he was young at heart, fuck you very much.

And then after everything he’d gone through, Edge went ahead and hitched his life to Stretch’s broke-ass wagon. Looking at Edge and thinking about the years he had yet to come sometimes made that bitter little voice that lived in the back of Stretch’s thoughts come to life, syrupy-thick, persuasive, and as foul as swamp water, asking him what the fuck he thought he was doing here, telling him he didn’t deserve this. Edge had earned better than having to spend his life dealing with Stretch’s brand of generic bullshittery.

Today more than usual it was easy to stuff that voice back. What kind of asshole would it make Stretch to try to make his choices for him? Stretch had a little too much experience with that and once you allowed it to start happening, it was fucking difficult to flick the switch back. Besides, if his taste in partners was questionable, at least his baby had a good soul.

He was selfish, knew it, but still. He wanted to be the one to spark joy in Edge

When the episode ended, Stretch didn’t even ask. He reached out automatically to push the button that skipped the intro on the next one. The spinach puffs were a distant memory but there were still the tapenade toast points to contend with.

A glance back at Edge made Stretch duck his head to hide a smile. Edge looked like his inner neat freak was getting a deep tissue massage. Now that, friends and neighbors, was relaxed.

“can i ask something?” Stretch said, idly, “how is it a clean bee like you can stand to be with me?”

Edge managed to tear his gaze away from the television long enough to look at him with genuine surprise and a little fond scorn, probably for the pun. It tore away the last bit of the illusion of youth and that left nothing but his own husband, who told him archly, “Marie says it herself. I love a mess.”

Okay, damn, affection and insult in one, and by the Angel, Stretch loved him so, so much. “i asked for that.”

“You did,” Edge agreed. But he caught hold of Stretch and pulled him in anyway, tucking him in comfortably against his side. He was soothingly warm and Stretch snuggled in happily, sighing as Edge pressed a kiss against his skull before whispering to him, “You bring me joy.”

Well, hey, mission accomplished. Now Stretch only had to keep it up for a few decades, no biggie.

But first, he needed to survive the week.

-finis-

Notes:

I can't help but feel that Edge would love 'Tidying Up With Marie Kondo'. His platonic soul mate. ^_^

[camilliar]

fic? post???

@stultiloquentia said I liked fics about the decline of man so here’s some crazy shit I’ve been writing for @tomato-greens where they’re all teenage runaways, maybe I’ll “finish” this “story” one day? pg13, eventual zimbits but not in this part, ~3k, I’d say “enjoy” but

I.

Eric hadn’t begun to fathom just how large Jack was—how tall, how broad—until Jack reared up and bellowed in his face, “This isn’t a game!”

“I wasn’t playing.” Eric tried to straighten up, but he was only five feet.

“Either get with the program or go home!”

And, well, that sure hurt—Jack must have known Eric couldn’t go home, right? Wasn’t that the whole point? What else did Jack think they were doing out here? There wasn’t any home, not really, except this one, here and now.

Also, until Jack yelled, Eric wasn’t sure he knew English. Eric had only ever heard him speak in French before. So that was a revelation.

“What’d you do?” Shitty asked, as they were waiting to steal into the gas station bathroom on Moreland—the Shell, not the Chevron. Less foot traffic at this one. Fewer passersby.

“Nothing,” Eric swore, starting to waggle. He really had to go now. “I gave him a plant, is all.”

“A plant?”

“Yeah, you know, a little plant. A Christmas cactus.”

“A what?”

“Christmas cactus,” said Eric. “They’re pretty when they bloom. My mama used to have one—used to, she probably still does, oh boy, I can’t wait to get into the bathroom—what do you think is taking him so long in there?”

“I bet we don’t want to know,” said Shitty.

“Well, you’re probably right, I suppose—I was thinking I could water the cactus here, or Jack would—you know, if he took it from me—”

“She.”

“—if he took it from me, we could walk over here with it and just get it a little water, nice clean water like from the tap—don’t make that face at me, mister! I’ve been holding it all night.”

“You coulda got me up, you know.”

“Nah,” said Eric. “Nah, and destroy your beauty rest?”

“Nothing pretty about me,” said Shitty, and he grinned to show off his pointy canines. It made him look feral. Eric agreed he didn’t look pretty, though he was sure better-kempt than the rest of them. To that point, when the door flung open and Eric rushed inside, Shitty filed in after and, kindly, took a moment to lock the door. He had his dopp kid until his arm; it was his most prized thing. It looked about a thousand years old, like something from a fairy tale. Shitty put it on the edge of the sink and began removing little cannister, old film containers and pill bottles. Being brazen, sometimes Shitty would sneak into the bathroom of a nice restaurant and fill them with lotion, or soap. Sometimes he’d do it in a Target, just pumping shaving gel into an old film cannister. Why not steal the whole bottle? Eric had asked him once. It was something about that not being right, some code. He had a razor blade and he was shaving with it, carefully skirting his mustache. He was impeccably well-groomed for a bum, Eric thought.

One day maybe I’ll be able to grow a beard and then I’ll be impeccably well-groomed, Eric thought. He was only 14; maybe he’d be tall one day.

Or maybe he’d never find out. Was this temporary? He’d only been in Atlanta for two weeks. Had it only been two weeks? Don’t think about it, he reminded himself. Do your business. Don’t look.

He was still doing his business, his semi-hard cock in hand, when Shitty stuck an old Mortin bottle under his nose. Eric had never gone to high school, but he knew that smell; some of his daddy’s team used to smoke after practice, when they thought Coach had taken Eric home for supper.

“No thank you,” he said, shocked, clumsily stuffing his prick back into his pants, still wet at the tip. He would fret about that all day.

II.

Eric was confident that if he has access to his kitchen, he could make Jack feel better. The one time he’d seen Jack smile—really smile—was when Shitty’d brought him a Happy Meal with chicken nuggets and an apple pie for dessert.

“You know,” Eric had said, trying to be all casual-like, “McDonald’s pies aren’t very good.”

Jack had looked up; having shoved most of the thing into his mouth, his cheeks were bulging.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Eric had continued, “I can make an apple pie that’s a lot better.”

Having a mouth full of food hadn’t stopped Jack from trying to say, “Well, what good does that do us? Where do you think you’re gonna bake one?” Of course, with all that pie in his mouth, not to mention the weird accent, Eric hadn’t managed to make out what Jack had said exactly. But, that was the gist of it, Eric was certain.

“You don’t have to try to make her like you,” Shitty explained. They were walking down Moreland; Larissa had reported that, on the way into town with her mother, she had noticed that someone had left a big box of stuff on the curb up on Briarcliff. Eric had never been to the other side of Ponce, and he was nervous-excited. “Just rich people over there,” Shitty had explained, “real bougie fucks.” Eric didn’t know what bougies were, but they were going to check it out.

“You think there’s any kitchen stuff in that box?” Eric asked. Waiting to cross Freedom Parkway took an eternity.

“Oh, yeah.” Shitty rubbed his hands together, like he’d realized this was a great idea. “That’d be good, if it’s vintage we could try to sell it at Highland Antiques, get some cash. Or is that one of those antiques malls where you have to rent a booth?” He began to stroke his chin. “I wonder.”

The light changed, and Eric scurried across in Shitty’s wake. “Nah, I mean like, we could hold onto it, use it to cook something.”

“Like over a fire,” Shitty agreed, “real old-timey hobo-like shit. Make some beans.”

“I was just thinking since Jack liked that that awful pie from McDonald’s, maybe he’d like my award-winning apple pie, which is much better.”

Again, at North, they had to stop and wait for traffic.

“You can cook a pie over a fire?”

Eric had begun to notice that Shitty was more difficult to deal with right after he’d smoked some pot, which was just about always.

“You cook a pie in the oven.”

“I doubt there’s gonna be an oven at the end of someone’s driveway,” Shitty said. “When rich people get a new oven, the Best Buy or whatever hauls the old one away.”

“Well,” Eric said, consoling himself. “Maybe there’s a pie plate. I shoulda brought mine. That was pretty darn stupid of me, huh?”

Shitty put a hand to Eric’s back, as if to usher him across North Avenue. “Listen, kiddo. It’s nice of you to want to do something sweet for Jack and all, but you gotta let her live with her choices. Junkies get a little junk-sick sometimes, you know?” As they got to the other side of the street, he paused. After a moment, he added, “Let’s go to the Borders sometime and steal you a copy of Naked Lunch.”

“Naked what?” Eric asked. He was only able to half-focus on Shitty’s explanation, too busy hoping beyond hope he’d find something pretty in that box on Moreland to bring home—such as it was home—for Jack.

When they got there, to Eric’s disappointment, the box had already been picked up by the garbagemen.

“Fuckin’ DeKalb County,” Shitty mused. “Fuckin’ yuppie assholes.”

Eric had no clue what he was talking about, none whatsoever.

III.

Borders didn’t have a copy of Naked Lunch, or anything else by the author. “Fuckin’ capitalism,” Shitty complained. “This whole place is full of garbage, not books. Who needs any of this?” He picked up something on a display of mostly stationery, a plastic deer figurine in pink glitter. Eric thought, well, the store is full of mostly books? He did like that sparkly deer. He wished Shitty would steal it for him, but Shitty had a twisted code about stealing things Eric might actually like. “Come on, we’d better go to Whole Foods, see if there’s free tortilla chip samples.”

But at the door of the Whole Foods, a staff member stacking handbaskets looked at them funny and said, “Excuse me.”

Shitty paid him little heed, just said, “Hey, bro,” entered anyway.

Eric had never been in a Whole Foods before. It was dark, not bright like a Publix. And not for lack of light—there were overhead lights. It was just yellow, washed-out, dingy. It didn’t feel clean like a Publix; it felt less clean than Kroger.

“Oh, good,” Shitty said, dragging Eric by the arm. “Guacamole.”

It wasn’t guacamole, though, it was pineapple salsa.

“Bullshit,” sad Shitty, “total bullshit. But, here, eat this anyway.” He had somehow managed to pile it only about four chips at once. “Beat off the scurvy.”

“You think there’s anything here Jack would like?”

Through a mouth of tortilla chips, Shitty said, “There’s nothing anywhere Jack would like, because Jack only likes two things: narcotics, and feeling sorry for herself.”

Eric wasn’t sure he liked what these chips tasted like; they shimmered under the yellow lights with a glean of oil, like they’d come out of a deep-fryer. Sometimes at UGA games Eric’s father would take him to his buddies’ various tailgates, and some of those guys had deep fryers, and, well, Eric knew what flour tortillas in corn oil tasted like. He preferred Tostitos, with their dry, clean starch—but he realized, now that he was eating, that he’d been hungry all morning, truly hungry. He’d been hungry for so long that he forgot he was hungry until he had some food.

“See, the thing with Jack is,” Shitty started to explain, but the same employee who’d been stacking baskets approached them.

“How’re you boys doing?” he asked.

Shitty had tortilla chip crumbs in his mustache. “Thanks for asking, bro, we’re fine. When does the guac come out?”

Eric wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.

Shitty’s question wasn’t answered.

IV.

It was easy to lose track of time, Eric figured, when day after day was the same and you had nowhere to go and nothing to do. It felt wrong when he thought of it: he had things to do, didn’t he? Wasn’t he supposed to be looking for a place to stay? But Eric was no closer to affording an apartment than he had been upon arrival in Atlanta, and some kind of gravity, or lack of inertia, kept him spinning in circles. The highlight of his week became Larissa’s trip into the city on Saturday mornings; she would take a walk in the park with Shitty while her mother did errands. Sometimes, out of pity, Mrs. Larissa’s Mother gave Eric a few dollars.

“Don’t blow it all in one place,” Shitty chided. He was about to head off with Larissa toward Inman Park. What would they do there, and where would they go when the weather got too cold to spend it outside? Eric thought for a few minutes about other places Shitty and Larissa could walk to, but then Eric realized Shitty’s walks in the park were the least of his worries.

When Jack woke up that afternoon he wasn’t in such a bad mood, so Eric felt like it was safe to ask him: “What do we do when it gets cold out?”

Jack blinked his eyes open, slowly at first and then all at once, like the question caught him off-guard. “I don’t know what you’ll do,” he said, “but I’m staying here.”

“In Atlanta?”

“Right here.”

The thought was so disturbing that Eric wandered down the street until he remembered he had three dollars in his pocket. He was a block down from the Zesto, and found himself walking toward it until he was pressed up against the window, looking in, reading the menu over the counter. A sundae was a bit over three dollars. Feeling determined, Eric began to inspect the sidewalk and then the parking lot, hoping to find anything: a nickel, a dime, a quarter. Anything would help.

A pair of ladies holding hands were walking down McLendon toward the corner, on the other side of the street. Feeling bold, and determined, he jogged toward them.

“Hi, ma’am,” he said. “Ma’ams.” Suddenly, Eric was grateful for how long it took the light to change before a person could get to the other side of Moreland. “How’s your day?”

One of them was wearing aviator sunglasses and a poofy skirt that sat high up on her waist. She was big-chested and had on a patterned V-neck T-shirt. She let go of the other woman’s hand and said, “Okay.”

“I was just wondering—” now Eric felt solidly deranged “—if you would be so kind, do you have a couple cents on you? A sundae at the Zesto is three-twenty-nine, and my friend Larissa only gave me three bucks, so I was hoping—”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence before he got a dollar along with the question, “Aren’t you too young to be panhandling?” But, mercifully, they didn’t wait for Eric to answer.

On one hand, if Eric sauntered back leisurely, the sundae would begin to melt; on the other, if he ran, truly hustled, he might spill it. He tried to split the difference, and spent the walk daydreaming of all the things he’d buy for Jack one day, if he would only afford it: a beautiful old razor like his grandfather had owned; a Kindle, so Jack could read all the books he wanted without having to fret about going to the store; new yellow sneakers, fresh as they were vivid as they were hideous.

“What’s that?” Jack asked warily, when he saw Eric approach with something in hand.

“Just a sundae, from Zesto.” Eric paused. “I thought we could split it?”

“I don’t want to share a spoon.”

“I got two spoons.” Eric squatted, careful not to rest his weight on Jack’s blankets. “You like hot fudge, right?”

Jack only grunted.

“These nice ladies gave me a dollar,” Eric explained, removing the lid from the sundae. “You know, I had to really screw up my courage to ask them, but it wasn’t too hard once I put my mind to it. They seemed real friendly, but they asked what I was doing panhandling, said I was too young to be doing that. I don’t think I’m too young, do you? I think I’m just about the right age for things, I mean, we all gotta learn to put ourselves out there at some point, I guess.” He sighed, digging his spoon into the melting soft serve. “I’m still worried about what to do when it gets real cold out.”

Jack, who had already been eating the ice cream, had white on his lips. He licked them, slowly. “I used to worry about it too,” he said, before helping himself to another spoonful.

“What made you stop?”

Jack swallowed his ice cream. “Heroin.”

Eric had nothing to say to that, so he kept eating, perhaps a little too quickly, given how thoroughly he wanted to savor things. Then again, the sundae was melting, so.

Suddenly, Eric was deeply, depressingly aware of how rare this moment was: Jack was being honest, and he didn’t seem sick, and he didn’t seem angry. Eric was midway through helping himself to another bite of ice cream when he got a bizarre urge not to feed himself but to offer his spoon to Jack instead.

And Jack accepted, which was weirder.

It made something in Eric start to burn, start to fill his chest with—god, some emotion, some strong tug from his throat to the pit of his stomach.

Eric cleared his throat, to get Jack’s attention. “Listen, Jack, can I ask you something?”

Jack looked up. “I guess,” he said. “For the ice cream.”

“Why—” It was hard for Eric to get it out. “Why does Shitty call you ‘she’?”

Their nice moment was over.

“He shouldn’t,” Jack said, drawing his arm up, to shield his face. “Does he? He shouldn’t.”

“Well, I was just wondering—”

“Stop wondering.”

“But—”

Now Eric felt awful stupid.

“Never call me that. She doesn’t exist. You’ll never get to meet her, so don’t ask.” Jack put his face in his hands.

“But who’s ‘she’?”

“She’s nobody, so shutup.”

Eric was good at that—shutting up. He merely put a hand at Jack’s back, felt him trembling. “You want some more ice cream?”

Jack looked up, pushed himself to his feet. The plastic spoon from Zesto clattered to the pavement. “I gotta—” He found something, dug it out of his blankets. “I need the bathroom, don’t follow me.”

It had been months now, so Eric knew Jack needed the bathroom the way his mother needed her alone time: to do something she really ought not to have been doing, that was, behind closed doors. Eric had seen Jack crush pills in his fist and rub them into his gums, that night he’d probably thought Eric was sleeping and couldn’t see it.

In the plastic bowl their sundae was a puddle of white streaked with brown. Eric might have gotten a C+ in eighth-grade English, but he knew symbolism when he saw it.

[kyoupann]

if you're still doing the ultimate ship meme thing, all the categories for Unagi (ofc~) plus Reichel x 217 if you feel like it/if it's not too much?

Look at odo being awesome and coming back~!Of course it’s not too much!! ^^

I’m always up to talk about the otp, you kno ;)

Reichel and 217

General:

Rate the Ship -  Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - forever

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - slowly, yk. Like ‘we’re friends and we love each other a lot but it’s not the time to be gay, maybe tomorrow’

How was their first kiss? - soft, lips barely touching and I imagine Reichel holding Nina’s face.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Nina, in the most casual way possible bc ‘it’s not a big deal, you already knew this would happen’

Who is the best man/men? - nyantaro is the only one fitted for the job

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? -  The 7 ladies in ushi dorobou

Who did the most planning? - I’d say both did equally planning w

Who stressed the most? - Reichel

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - melochin  I really don’t know? they are both pretty chill

Sex:

Who is on top? - my girls are versatile and like to switch from time to time

Who is the one to instigate things? - I think Nina would initiate things without wanting to? by making an innuendo or being just silly

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - it depends on whatever they are doing, if they go all vanilla they could last hours with lots of cuddles in between~

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - not necessarily but they do make sure both are pleased in the end c:

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | a solid 7| 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - insemination is always an option but I don’t see it happening? so none

How many children will they adopt? - one girl!!

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Nina always finds the way to leave the dirty stuff to Reichel

Who is the stricter parent? - Definitely Reichel

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Reichel

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Both do the little girl’s lunch every morning

Who is the more loved parent? -

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings?- I feel like Reichel would handle these better than Nina,

Who cried the most at graduation? - Nina. Reichel is a strong and not-really-indepedent-woman-as-she-is-married that is saving her tears for university graduation and wedding.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Definitely Nina would cover her up but then she would be like “ listen here, love. what you did was stupid and wrong and you just better pray I change my mind of telling you mother about this because we both know you’re gonna get your ass whooped”

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? -  Niina

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Reichel

Who does the grocery shopping? - the whole family go on 2 hours long grocery shopping mini trips.

How often do they bake desserts? - once every month

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - they can’t live without pork and fish but they still eat all their veggies

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Niina is just out there being the perfect 60′s wife

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Niina~ she would like to treat Reichel to some fancy place every once in a while~

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - none??? that danger is inexistent?

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - whoever wakes up last

Who is really against chores? - Niina gets things done after hours of procrastinating

Who cleans up after the pets? - Niina promises she’s going to do it but in the end it’s reichel the one that does it.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Both do it and deny it.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Reichel

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Niina but then she gives it to reichel in an attempt of bribing her to do the bathroom.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? -  Reichel

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Niina + the kid

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - They do it every year for halloween bc the house looks cool

What are their goals for the relationship? - idk mate don’t ask me the impossible be happy together forever I guess???

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Niina

Who plays the most pranks? - Obviously Niina!

Unagi~

General:

Rate the Ship -  Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - it’s an on and off relationship

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - way too quickly

How was their first kiss? - they probably were drunk and like “man I think I might be gay but idk” “just kiss me, bro, it’s fine” and it was slow and scary but it was alright

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Ryo put the idea of marriage out and Melochin just followed  and properly proposed (a.k.a. r: dude, I wanna marry you someday. m: ‘k)

Who is the best man/men? - considering the circumstances, two of them would be the guys melochin hangs out with recently and of course nagi and k’suke for the sake the ol’times.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Miume is the 1st supporter of this relationship so she deserves the place, then you just add other good pals like Niina and that cute cosplayer Ryo danced with once

Who did the most planning? - They were like planning completely different weddings on their own but somehow met a middle.

Who stressed the most? - Ryo stressed the fuck out of Melochin. The planning was easy but Ryo is so picky and everything has to be perfect bc dude it’s their day that even choosing the colours of the napkins was difficult

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 I imagine a wedding on the beach on breezy summer evening bc they are that extra| 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - yoshiki no one?

Sex:

Who is on top? - Ryo is a bossy bottom , which can be both good and bad

Who is the one to instigate things? - I fee like both of them are pretty direct when they want to do the do ?? soo

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8  they make sure the passion never dies out| 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 your average bondage couple with some sensory deprivation on the side and maybe a praise kink somewhere| 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - it depends on what they are up to. from 15 minutes quickies to hour lasting sex.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - yeah, kinda? I like to think one’s an actual asshole and leaves the other with a hard on when they are too lazy to do even a sad handjob.

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it. There is no in between.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 they cuddle after sex but mostly bc ryo is a whiny bitch about the cold he feels afterwards| 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - none?

How many children will they adopt? - One girl

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Melochin was always the one in charge of diapers and Ryo never learnt how to change diapers that were soiled with more than pee.

Who is the stricter parent? - Melochin is the white suburban mum

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Both are overprotective and fear for the life of their kid

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Melochin doesn’t trust Ryo to make lunches for any of them, so he has to make them 7 days a week.

Who is the more loved parent? - both are great parents??? what are you talking about???

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Okay, so, Melochin, being the suburban mum he is, attended one of these meeting once and afterwards the school didn’t contact him but instead calle Ryo. Sorry but Melochin’s daughter can’t do wrong. Apparently, it’s easier to talk to him about their daughter

Who cried the most at graduation? - both are sentimental fucks and cried at every graduation from nursery school to university

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Ryo would so do that. He’d be like the cool parent, yk. the one that let’s you have ice cream before dinner. But nothing is free and the child has to do something in return and bc he’s an actual little shit he wouldn’t tell melochin abt it but wait and kinda make the kid confess what they did on their own.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? -  Melochin bc we all know ryo-lun can’t cook for shit

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Ryo is so picky, he’d eat everything but whine about it later

Who does the grocery shopping? - Melochin drags Ryo with him bc he insists Ryo needs to know what to buy in case Melochin isn’t around

How often do they bake desserts? - Ryo and the child whine 24/7 to melochin to make some dessert and Melochin is a loser and always complies

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - they cannot live without meat, fish and pork andveggies are great and melochin know how to sneak them into their child’s plate without her noticing

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Believe it or not, he might forget dates and shit but their wedding was th e best day of their life and Ryo can’t get over it :’)))

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Ryo

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? - the possibility of this happening is nonexisting as Ryo isn’t allowed to use the stove.

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - it’s a rock, paper, scissors match every day.

Who is really against chores? - Melochin might be a white suburban mum but really despises cleaning

Who cleans up after the pets? - Ryo bc it’s his dog

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Melochin, only to be caught by his partner.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - They both do because they wan to be GREAT HOSTS ™

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Ryo because Melochin doesn’t clean.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - they are both sluts for their image

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - They go out with their kid on a family walk

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Ryo likes christmas. You can’t tell me otherwise. As soon as the the calendar reaches December 1st, the birthday decorations are thrown into the trash can and the house is covered in all sorts of christmas decorations and fake snow and ready for a whole month of christmas carolls he doesn’t understand

What are their goals for the relationship? - they planned a life togehter but it wasn’t enough and they divorced

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Melochin. On weekends, though, Ryo might feel rebellious and sleep in

Who plays the most pranks? - Melochin is an asshole and Ryo is just an easy target.

Thank you for keeping me alive , odo.

[wings-of-life]

Chapter 24 - Schooling

“My head hurts.”

“come on, you know this stuff.”

I groaned and rested my head on my arms. Toriel chuckled and petted my head.

“Maybe it is time for a break. The tea will be ready soon anyway.”

“she can take a break as soon as she gives the right answer.”

“Mean!”

Now they were both chuckling. Toriel’s hand disappeared from my head and I heard her retreat towards the kitchen. The smell of freshly baked butterscotch cinnamon filled the living room as she took her signature pie out of the oven. With a sigh, I lifted my head and saw Sans patiently waiting for me to give the math problem another shot. Propping my head on my hand I looked back at the book in front of me. It was one of the math books from Toriel’s school, meant for twelve-year-olds.

I couldn’t deny that I still was embarrassed about the fact that most preteens could give me a run for my money when it came down to math. But then again, I had been lucky to have learned to read, write and the most basic of math before I had been kidnapped. Going to school was not an option if the government believed you to be dead.

Fortunately, the book in the library didn’t care about such trivial things so I wasn’t completely stupid according to academic levels. My reading and writing were what they should be, though I didn’t understand most of the grammar and spelling rules. History was my strong suit, though that had also been the easiest to learn about. History was just so interesting.

When Toriel had found out that I never had any proper schooling she had taken it upon herself to change that. Which I shouldn’t have been as surprised about as I had. She was both a principal and a teacher after all. She had been quick to assign Sans as my tutor for the beta subjects, which were my weak points. I just could never really make head or tails of the books covering them.

He as a surprisingly good teacher. He was patient and didn’t get frustrated when it took me forever to comprehend something I could tell made perfect sense to him. What was especially nice was how he almost always found a way to bring the real world into his teachings. Which meant that a lot of his lessons were outdoors. Seeing and experiencing helped me a lot to wrap my head around the theories and formulas written in the schoolbooks. It was just too bad that the more advanced math became the less real-world examples there were to help simplify it. Sure, there were plenty of examples of why it was important to understand it, but even story based questions were difficult on me.

“write out your train of thought.”

Sighing I started copying the problem into my notebook and tried to remember what method I needed to use to get to the solution. Taking his advice, I started to pen down ever one that came to mind. Abandoning them as soon as they stopped making sense for the problem. Sans didn’t say anything as I filled the page with nonsense, simply waiting to see if I would manage to figure it out on my own. Which I did. Though it wasn’t until after Toriel had already brought us all a cup of tea and a slice of pie. It had taken me way longer than it should’ve but I had managed, maybe.

“Is the answer twenty-three? Please, tell me it’s twenty-three?”

“it’s twenty-three.”

“Oh, thank all that’s good in this world.”

To my relieve, Toriel reached out and closed the book, signalling that now it was really break-time. Giving me another pet on the head before pulling her hand back.

“I’m proud of the process your making, my child. And you should be too.”

“Thanks, mum.”

“yeah kid, it won’t be long now before geometry will; shape your life.”

Sans gave me a wink while Toriel started laughing, I just gave him push unable to keep the grin off my face. It was a good thing Papyrus was on duty because the next half hour was filled with horrible puns until we were all laughing too hard to think of any new ones.

 The sun had set fully, the first stars popping up above us. I had never really watched a sunset this intently. But then again, I had never watched the sunset with monsters before. Papyrus especially had been very openly loving the shift of colours as the sky slowly darkened. Though I could tell Sans had greatly enjoyed the sight as well. Now that the sun had disappeared behind the horizon however it was time for what we were here for. Near the top of Mt. Ebott, the exit of the Underground close by. The lights of the town shining below us, dim enough to have no influence on the brightness of the stars shimmering above us. Sans was already busy setting up his telescope to give us an even better view of them and to help with the astronomy lesson.

“Hey Sans…”

“hmmm?”

“Why did the astronomer become an actor?”

Looking up from the telescope amused anticipation clear in his eye lights.

“i don’t know, why did the astronomer become an actor?”

“Because they had always wanted to visit the stars.”

He chuckled a little while Papyrus groaned.

“SANS! YOU HAVE A TERRIBLE INFLUENCE ON THE HUMAN!”

“aw, come on pap, her pun was just out of this world.”

“SANS!”

I laughed, both at the joke and at Papyrus’ exaggerated annoyance with his brother. I was starting to be able to read Papyrus’ tells between being really bothered by Sans’ puns and when he was just exaggerating.

“why did the astronaut return to earth?”

“I don’t know, why?”

“to give the aliens some space.”

Papyrus threw his hands up in the air in a fake fit while my eyes started to tear from laughing. Sans looked pleased with himself as I used my sleeve to wipe my eyes. As much as I hated that I started to cry whenever I was laughing too hard, he loved it. Occasionally he would pun until he had me laughing so hard that the tears were streaming down my face.

“I THOUGHT YOU HAD INVITED THE HUMAN ALONG TO TUTOR HER ABOUT THE STARS NOT FOR YOUR BLASTED PUNS!”

“you’re right bro. come on kiddo, let’s see if you can find polaris, also known as the north star.”

Wiping away the remaining tears I kneeled by the telescope and started searching. Astronomy wasn’t a mandatory school subject, but it was one that Sans had insisted on giving. Not that I minded, I had always loved stargazing. So, learning the locations and names of the stars and constellation fun. Difficult, but fun. Sans did all the teaching, while Papyrus simply took in the beauty of the stars.

“Sans?”

“hmmm?”

I looked over at Papyrus for a moment before lowering my voice a little.

“Why couldn’t I bring Molly along?”

Sans chuckled softly before taking the telescope from me and lowering his voice as well.

“in the underground, there was a white dog that would plague papyrus by stealing his bone attacks and stuff. i think molly reminds him a little too much of that ‘meddling canine’.”

I nodded and pulled the blanket Papyrus had thought to bring along for me a little tighter. It was nearing midnight and the temperature had dropped significantly. The days might feel like it was almost summer, the nights were a strong reminder that it was still just spring. Not that either of the skeletons seemed in the least bit bothered by the cold.

“Are you guys really not cold?”

“don’t worry, it takes more than this to chill us to the bone.”

“SANS! THIS IS NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR PUNS! LISTEN HERE HUMAN, I THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL EXPLAIN THIS TO YOU. WE SKELETONS AREN’T AS SENSITIVE TO CHANGES IN TEMPERATURE AS YOU HUMANS ARE. WE CAN SENSE THEM, BUT THEY DON’T AFFECT US MUCH AS WE HAVE NOTHING TO FREEZE OR OVERHEAT.”

“you might not have anything to freeze, but you are still the coolest there is bro.”

“BUT OF COURSE, I AM! NEYHEHEH!”

“You are guys truly are the best skeleton friends a girl could ask for, thank you.”

“for what?”

“Everything.”