#Where to buy Frozen Chicken Feet

[peachesofteal]

Cool Girl

Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist / warning: cancer

“Wait… I’m sorry, I… I think I misheard you…”

The doctor gives you a very kind, but very practiced smile and pats your hand gently. “It’s a brain tumor.”

Oh god. Oh my god. You’re going to throw up. White hot fear rockets up your spine, spreading through every nerve, vessel, piece of tissue like a crack of lightning, obliterating everything in its path.

A tumor. A brain tumor.

“Okay… uh,” you don’t know where to begin. What kind of questions do you ask? What happens next? “Do I… get surgery or something? What… what do I do?” She nods, pointing to something on the tablet screen, scans of your brain lit up like a fucking Christmas tree.

She’s explaining something to you, something you don’t really understand, but you vaguely catch the end of it. “-to try to shrink it. The chemo will hopefully do that for us, and we can move to next steps.” Chemo. Chemo?

“Oh.”

“I know this is a lot to take in, but we’re going to do everything we can.” Everything we can?

She sends you home with a stack of papers, pamphlets, and more appointments than you could possibly remember.

Your empty apartment suddenly feels more sad, more morose than it ever has before, and for the hundredth time today, you think of Simon and Johnny.

Pathetically, you want to call them.

Maybe Simon would let Johnny come over. Maybe he’d let Johnny hold you.

Maybe Simon would even want to hold you too. You snort. Unlikely.

Instead of someone to lay with, be with, you slip fitfully into a restless sleep, buried in a pile of pillows.

Your days turn into Russian roulette.

You meet your oncologist, you start chemo. You take medical leave from work, considering you can’t do anything except go back and forth between appointments, and try not to think about the monster that’s living in your head, sucking you dry. Mornings roll into nights, and you become some sort of zombie, dragging your feet around the building, unable to eat, unable to sleep.

You can sometimes stomach soup though. Soup of all kinds, chicken noodle, ramen, tomato, you name it. It takes two weeks for you to get through your mostly broth diet before you’re forced out into the world to buy some more.

The grocery store is a nightmare. The lights are too bright, the people are too loud, and it’s freezing, even though most people are in shorts and short sleeves.

You’re bundled up. It’s a little ridiculous.

You take your time in the soup aisle with your basket, glancing over your options, trying to push down your nausea and figure out what you might feel like eating later. It’s a daunting task, considering what you threw up before you left the flat.

You fill your basket with as much as you think you might need, ignoring the throbbing in your head as much as possible, and round the corner to the frozen section, looking for some ice cream. Something sweet doesn’t sound so bad, you think. Maybe some mint chocolate, or cookies and cream.

You stand in front of the frosted doors, debating your options, oblivious to the world.

Oblivious until you hear someone calling your name.

When you turn your head, there’s a flash of a mohawk from the corner of your eye, and then Johnny is standing in front of you with his jaw dropped.

“Oh. Hi.”

“Hi?” He bleats. “Hi? Bonnie, ye… ye look-“

“Like shit?” You finish for him, unimpressed, and he shakes his head.

“No. Sick. Are ye alright?” Truly, you want to lie. Throw yourself at his feet and beg him to come home with you, cuddle you, help you.

You can’t though. You know you can’t.

Johnny’s heart doesn’t belong to you. Neither does Simon’s.

“Oh, yeah I’m fine. Just tired.” His eyes narrow, your own heart bleeds. “Swear.” He shakes his head.

“Ye’re lying.” You’re about to tell him to mind his business, to tell him you’re not his business anymore, when his eyes go incredibly soft, and he steps closer. “If this is about what happened-“

“I don’t… I can’t do this.” You move away, backwards. “I just wanted to get some ice cream. I don’t want to do this with you.” You cast a mournful look at the freezers behind him, and then turn away, a barely there goodbye whispered over your shoulder.

[countrymusiclover]

3 - A Sloan Date

Part 4

Feisty Coffee Girl

Running my fingers through my hair I chuckled nervously feeling my face turn red with the interns watching our interaction. “I guess I’m meeting you for the second time, Mark Sloan.”

My entire body had frozen at that moment. I reached into my pocket of my coat drawing out my phone. Scanning through my phone contacts I saw that the number had called me when I had picked up my daughter from school. “You've been blowing up my phone for almost two weeks.”

“I thought you would have called me back by now if you were interested and most people I’m with are typically interested when we first meet.” Mark responded to me shoving his hands inside his coat pockets.

Christina spoke up first behind us. “You know the Mark Sloan.”

“Not really. We only met one time when I worked at the coffee shop.” I corrected her statement before she assumed we had a long past together when we didn't.

Meredith raised a brow. “So how did you two meet?”

“He wanted a coffee and I gave him a scone recommendation. That was basically all.” I looked at the girl.

Izzie finally rounded the nurse desk grabbing me by the back of my jacket pushing me away from the coffee guy. “You listen here Mr. You stay away from her. She doesn't want anything to do with you!”

“Woah Iz dial it down a bit would ya. Nothing happened.” I pushed my way around her, not clear on what she was so pushy about. He was a guy that we were meeting for the first time. He couldn't wrong me from our first meeting.

Mark smiled at me, sending me a wink. “Don’t worry she'd have to let me take her on first before we could ever get serious.”

I felt my face turning red at his words and it only got deeper when our gaze locked onto the other. I didn't feel up to dating at the moment. I had my daughter to think about first and foremost before anybody else. “Mark, I'll at least take you up on your offer to buy me a drink.” I finally spoke towards the plastics surgeon.

“Y/n!” Izzie gasped in disgust.

Waving my hand at her I focused on Mark. “What time were you thinking or what time do you get off of work?”

“How about a quarter to never.” Izzir growled behind me.

Mark put his hands in the pockets of his dark pants. “I'd say around 7. Does that work for you?”

“That’s fine with me.” I replied back.

Someone cleared their throat behind him and we saw an older black guy standing before us. “Dr. Sloan can I see you in my office?”

“Sure chief. I'll see you tonight, feisty coffee girl.” Mark sent me a wink following him to his office on the next floor of the hospital.

Another doctor walks over to our group that had styled black hair and soft eyes that met in Meredith’s direction but says nothing for a few minutes. The man finally did say something to the group though. “So. Who’s the feisty coffee girl?”

“That would be me.” I raised my hand moving away from Izzie, extending my hand to the guy. “Y/n, Y/n Stevens .”

“Derek Shepherd. Nice to meet you. Uh I'm sorry but do you know the kid driving the wheelchair through the hospital?” Derek introduced himself before my eyes went wide, turning around on my feet.

I jumped backwards away from him when a wheelchair came running past us and I instantly saw my daughter being the one driving it through the hospital area. “Uh sorry but I have to go. I’ll see you later, Izzie. Eve!” Chasing after her it took me a good few minutes before I had caught up with her and we made our way home since I had to get ready for my date with a doctor.

“Why can’t I come with you?” Everly asked me eating her chicken bites that I had made for her in the oven.

Slipping on my tenna shoes I was standing in my bedroom with the door open so we could still talk. “Because where mommy is going tonight isn't a place for kids. Don't worry we will spend the whole day together tomorrow to make up for it.” I told my young child looking at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t been on a date in forever.

“I'll get it!” The doorbell rang with Everly opening it revealing Caroline who closed it behind her.

She sat her bag down searching for me. “Y/n, I want to see your outfit before the date tonight!”

“Does this look too simple? It feels too simple but we're just supposed to go out for drinks. I mean it isn't helping this is my first date since I had Eve basically but-” I was cut off with my best friend raising a hand.

She eyed my outfit, which was some ripped blue jeans and a light orange lace shirt that was short sleeved. I left my hair down where I had curled the ends of it to look slightly cuter. “You look cute and he clearly found you attractive in your work uniform so you shouldn’t have to worry.”

“Okay I’ll choose to believe you.” I smiled, calling my daughter over. “Everly!”

She ran over to me when I lowered myself down to a knee hugging her before I left for the evening. “Promise me that you will be super good for Caroline while I am gone.” She looped her pinky with mine and I did the same making our promise. The bar that we were meeting at was near my apartment building so I could just walk down there. Walking down a few different streets I entered the bar seeing Mark sitting at one of the bar tables.

“There’s my feisty coffee girl.” Mark smirked when I sat down on the barstool across from him sitting my bag on the edge of the table. His eyes scanned over me not dropping the smirk. “You look cuter than you did in your work uniform.”

I blushed, snorting out a laugh. “I would hope so, Dr. Sloan.”

“Dr. Sloan, you don’t gotta call me that when we aren’t in the hospital. We’re on a first name basis aren’t we?” Mark smiled with a waitress bringing over two shots of tequila.

Picking up the glass I corrected my last statement. “My bad, Mark. But if we’re on a first name basis, call me Y/n.” We both raised our shot glasses and downed the drink yet I scrunch my nose at the bitter taste not used to doing strong alcohol.

“You okay, Y/n?” Mark asked, seeing the reaction on my face.

Covering my face with my freehand sitting my glass down on the table. When I got pregnant with Eve I didn’t have my first real drink until the day she went to elementary school. “Sorry tequila ain’t my thing.”

“We can go for something lighter. I ain’t picky especially if we can meet up again.” He met my gaze, waving the waiter over to get some different shots for us. We had done about four or five different shots just talking about his job and my job.

I wasn’t sure if I could tell him about my daughter yet. Most of the time when I did guys pretty much didn’t call me back after the date or just left during the date. If it was just me and Eve for a few more years I’d be somewhat okay with that. “You really want a second date. I didn’t think a simple coffee shop girl would impress a plastic surgeon.”

“You’re not a simple coffee girl, Y/n.” Mark sat his glass down reaching for my freehand laying on the table intertwining his with mine. “There’s something about you that interests me.”

I blurted out the question feeling embarrassed the second I said it. “You aren’t just saying that so I’ll sleep with you?”

“I’ll prove it.” He responded quickly back.

A curious look crossed my face. “How ya gonna do that?”

“While we keep going out I won’t sleep with anyone else. I won’t even mention it unless you want me too. Does that seem fair?” Mark squeezing my hand waiting for my response.

Squeezing his hand in mine I agreed to the offer not knowing what I was getting myself and my daughter at some point into. “Sounds like an interesting challenge. I accept it.” The night ended with him walking me back to my building and nothing more.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[cyberbeast99]

Wolf in the City: Part 1

"You're kidding me. NOTHING in the fridge?" I stare into the empty depths of my refrigerator with the realization that I'd eaten my way through two weeks worth of groceries in only nine days. That full-moon werewolf bingefest a few nights ago had really taken a toll on my provisions. My second transformation hadn't been as eventful as the first. I still hadn't worked up the courage to go into the woods and hunt, so I'd stayed at home, watching movies and consuming enough food to make Nikocado Avocado jealous. I sigh, knowing I have to bite the bullet and go grocery shopping today. "Welp, might as well just get it done." About an hour later, after showering, getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and calling an Uber, I'm pushing my cart through the local supermarket. The thousands of scents of fruits, vegetables, meat, and scores of people overload my olfactory senses. I ignore the produce aisle and beeline to my new favourite area of the store, and soon enough my cart is loaded with a vegan's worst nightmare. I'm pretty much buying an entire butcher shop here: a few steaks, a roast, pork chops, a package each of chicken breasts, ground beef, bacon, and sausage. It's a no-brainer that I've become a bit of a carnivore. I move up and down the aisles, picking up more items: a jug of pulp-free orange juice, a box of frozen chicken nuggets, a few bags of Doritos, a dozen eggs, and a frozen cheesecake. I'm getting a few stares from other customers, but they're because of my spiky red Mohawk and my vintage leather jacket. I've heard of other therians having meltdowns in this grocery store due to attracting too much attention but I'm not too worried. The only way people could possibly tell that I'm not human is by noticing my yellow eyes or my pointy ears. I'm making my way towards checkout when CLANG! My ears explode with noise. I whip my head around and see a little boy, probably about eight years old, pull a shopping cart back from the wall, back up to the other end of the aisle, then charge his cart directly into the wall. CLANG! I clap my hands over my ears. It's so incredibly painful it draws tears from my eyes. The noise is probably just an annoyance to the other shoppers, but with my superhuman hearing, it's torture. The pain is so much that I don't notice the itching begin to spread across my body. My ears are still ringing when the little brat slams the cart into the wall again. CLANG! I feel a hand tap me on the shoulder. A woman asks "Are you alright-" I snap my head around and growl at her. She retreats. Where the hell did that come from, a small part of my brain wonders. But the rest of my brain is too preoccupied with the pain to answer that question. A pain that has begun to spread throughout my entire body. CLANG! I drop like a sack of potatoes and begin to writhe on the ground. "Call 911, he's having a seizure!" a man shouts. The screams start as the fur sprouts and my face twists into a canine snout. Bones crack. My clawed paws rip through my shoes. My mind is screaming at me in complete shock and panic. This isn't supposed to happen! The clanging stops. The world becomes silent, save for the dozens of thudding heartbeats and panicky breaths. The air is redolent with the stench of fear, a hundred times stronger than when I smelled it from Candy. I open my eyes as the pain fades. And glance around at the horror I've wrought. Everyone in the store is crowded together in a ring around me, though nobody's close than two meters. Their faces show various expressions of shock, terror, and fear. Half a dozen people have their phones out, recording the sorry scene. The little brat who caused all this is sobbing into his mother's shirt. She looks at me with absolute horror. Every muscle in my body activates at once as the panicked animal in me takes control. I leap to my feet and start to run. On all fours. And I don't stop. The crowd parts before me like the Red Sea. The automatic doors slide open. And then there's just the wind rushing through my fur, the thud of my paws on the pavement, and the tears rushing out my eyes.

[cherriebbyyyy]

My dear Snoopy the only merch of him I got / other than the plush found 💀

Anyways below is my debrief of my LVGP experience 💖💖💖

Anyways this was my first LVGP and I know for a fact I will be returning to LVGP next year so worth it and hopping I can get more girlies to come and split it so hotel is a bit cheaper

First love how F1-ified everything is like I was in Vegas earlier this year and saw like a few things here and there I loved the Extra promo they had around.

Now to the weather idk if I’m like used to this specific kind of chill ? Or since we were legging it the entire day we just stayed warm but all the vids complaining about the cold had me a little peeved because I cancelled my pool club plans the day b4 when I actually probably would have enjoyed lounging and day drinking, (also to note I had a spirit personal item aka basically a jansport) so space was v limited and didn’t want to waste space in a swim suit + cover up)

Anyways went to the Free Fan Experience that I had gotten b4 I even got my GP ticket manifesting hard being in Vegas. And for a free event it was pretty cool based like the f1 academy was a cool demo, I did the pit stop challenge which was really fun and tiring, while it was just one lug nut I have a new found respect for it, but lowkey alpine should hire me I would have been ready for Estie and had a 6.27 time change.

Looped around the hub a few times and line was LONGGGGGGGG and had a feeling snoopy was also no longer in stock so we didn’t get in line and stopped for food at the restaurant that was basically at the end of the hub line, Had 3/5 chicken wings before I felt like I was getting sick was also drinking like blue lemonade daiquiri not sure what it was but I did vomit it up before even leaving the restaurant so …. Yeah and it was the only thing I had eaten since breakfast but I felt better after because I am queen of Rallying and at this point I am wearing kitten heals so feet are hurtinggggg but we continue and stop at Walgreens where I say Hi to the redbull boys as Max and Checo cutouts great us I buy the foot pain / freeze thing, a sugar free Red Bull, and a buzz ball as we head back to our hotel and I Take the L and buy $20 slides and the gift shop and finally also check in.

All this took btwn when we landed at 11am -4pm on foot and I wish I wore an Apple Watch to get my steps but I know I got a few miles in

Obvi freshen up take note that I have 2 blisters one on each foot and one was already popped !!! Yay.

Relax for a bit after showing put the foot stuff on and get the kitten heals back on because the show goes on. (I pregame my drinks the Red Bull is giving me wings)

We do a few loops and get extra steps in because we are just girls who can’t get instructions correctly 🤗😓 I can carry a pretty good speed walk tho and my friend wore docs she’s also slightly handicapped as we enter the Venetian once again and stop by the hub to see no line and it’s about 7:30 pm we go in and no snoops of course we we just buy malbon crew necks and grab our Amex radios as we get lost in the Venetian trying to go to the sphere zone 💀💀💀 and just barley as we scan out tickets in see the end of the drivers parade.

Food Review that was included w/ ticket

1. All food was Luke warm

2. Had a slice of the cheese pizza it was a 6/10 felt like a frozen pizza that was reheated

3. ‘Savory Pie’ it a chicken pot pie 7/10 this one actually had potential I think would have 10/10 if it was actually hot/warm

4. S’more brownie thing 8/10 very good and decadent

None of the food made me sick so that was a win!

Now drinks in my opinion the should have had a separate line for ppl who didn’t want alcohol anyways the cocktail bar area personally need to be ran better my bartender was like low on supplies and I orders a vodka Red Bull and he had to go look for one and then like told be if I wanted to try it w/ a splash of Jarrito which I said yes but then he also had to look for it so it was like ???? If it wasn’t ready why offer it to me like just taking too long to make a vodka redbull imo. Came back later during the race and wanted a cocktail but even tho the lines were shorter they were takinggggg forever so I just I just got a Heineken from their bar instead way faster.

Now since I got my ticket very last minute, I didn’t really see the vents they were going to be holding before the race so when Ludacris came on best believe I was having a good time! Like his set really hyped up the crowd! He was playing for the ladies which I always appreciate. When baby came on the three other girls in our section, also screamed and we all sang along. Low-key some people gave us a little looks when we sang/ vibing out the songs but also what else are we supposed to do be miserable waiting for the race to start no. Like Move Bitch GET OUT THE WAYYYY was playing during the warm-up laps like having Luda play in the background as the cars went was amazing!! Also I stayed in the same area the entire time next time if I go for all three days my Explorer better options in the zone to see because it was pretty full when the race started, but as it kept going, people dispersed, and some came back and some just left but it was good enough and so crazy to see the actual gaps btwn the cars like 3-5 seconds is actually really long when you watch them zoom also for me it helped knowing who had what color camera on there car like Carlos having the neon yellow and Charlie having black one so when I wasn’t paying attention to the commentary I knew who was passing in front of me. And then on that note the transmission on the radios was a few minutes behind the live race and the audio in the zone also I wish there was a screen so we could keep up with the race and not have to be constantly checking my phone / watching a live stream eating up my phone battery.

Loved the section of ppl we were with because Ferrari based but also pro spanish speaker like I think when Carlos overtook Charles I cheered when they passed us again and quite a few ppl joined in and I was like “Checo common bud we need to do better” and ppl started talking about yeah Checo let’s go! And the next few laps we all cheered for them and colapinto as well that someone else in the section was rallying for and it was just fun cheeeing as they passed like even though they can’t hear us just good vibes in the GA stands

My friend is a Lewis Hamilton stan so we were very happy with the finish and around the last 3 laps we were just singing Viva Las Vegas because Carlos was also on Podi and Max was wdc x4 and the end was great and for those moments my feet didn’t hurt but then we began the trek back and caught the fire work show outside of the Venetian which was also super cool

Skipped out on clubbing because we didn’t want to go in w/ our crew necks and even did have club clothes on the feet were starting to give but I have never been barefoot in Vegas and it was still a touch early for me to start. Got back to hotel about 12:30 ish and scrolled til like 2 and saw all the radio drama lmao and had kinda a bad sleep because I’m like princess and the pee when it comes to pillows and both the ones on my bed didn’t do it for me. Got back up at 5:30 am to get ready to checkout as we had a 7:30am flight, lemme just say Las Vegas at 6am is a very fun people watch experience as we saw other like us getting ready to leave, people bare foot coming back in, a lot of dude bros drunk still looking for the next thing, drunk ppl falling out of the uber as we got on out uber and saw the sunrise over the strip.

The flight back was nice because lots of familiar faces from the flight b4 and so manyyyy ppl in their merch, everyone in my row and I’m assuming most of the place was slumped! Like I had a moment where I woke back up and looks over to my right and the guy next to me asleep and the guy next to him not even on the tray table just fully folded over himself knocked out and closed my eyes and nodded off once again for a few before we landed and I got back home and layed down for the rest of the day as my body was so sore and I had to drain my blister yum yum.

[amenders93]

5 Weeks till Chicken Run 2!!

When two people are in a relationship (platonic or romantic), sometimes one of them never really knows how much the other truly cares about them unless they do something that shows it. Sometimes they can do an act that touches their heart and tugs at their strings. Other times, they can do a daring deed that may put their life in danger but in the end all is well. That's why for this week's post, we are going to review one of the most action-packed scenes from the movie - the pie machine rescue. When Ginger is taken for a test run for the Tweedys' new pie machine, Rocky is given the task to rescue her. Will he succeed or will he and Ginger be turned into chicken pies?

Let's pick up from when Mr. Tweedy snatches Ginger to test run the new machine he just put together for his wife. The other chickens see that their trusted leader is being taken to the barn and while the hens all start to panic, Fowler tries to take charge of this situation. Unfortunately, his commands are fallen onto deaf ears. That's when Rocky comes out of the hut and asks about the situation. Babs tells him that the farmers got Ginger and they're taking her to the chop. If only she knew where Ginger is really being taken to - and that it's much worse than the chop. Rocky is standing there all frozen, horrified to learn that the hen he's starting to care about is now meeting her doom.

Fowler insists that Rocky flies over to the barn and save Ginger. The younger rooster thinks fast and says that him flying into the barn is just what the Tweedys would expect and instead they give the enemy the old element of surprise, and the older rooster buys into it, still talking about the Germans as if WW2 had never ended. Fowler asks what his plan is and Rocky simply improvises by using a small coat hanger from Babs's knitting bag and having Bunty lift him up a telephone pole with an electrical cable that runs into the upper loft window of the barn. He hooks the coat hanger onto the wire and slides down toward the open barn window, screaming all the way down. He might have been hoping he looked heroic, but actually he looked completely terrified.

Landing in the hay loft, Rocky gets a closer look at what is making the engine sounds. At first he is surprised by the size of the pie machine in the barn but then his amazed surprise turns to shocked surprise to see Mr. Tweedy clamp Ginger's feet into ankle holders on an overhead conveyor belt. The farmer pushes a couple of levers and the belt starts moving Ginger toward the big opening in the machine. The Tweedys now move around to the side of the machine where the pies would come out so they're completely unaware of what happens now.

Ginger struggles ineffectually against her ankle clamps. Up ahead, she could see that the clamps released over a large chute that led to who-knows-where. This was a situation she couldn't think her way out of, or even will her way out of. For the first time, maybe in her whole life, she was totally helpless. But never fear because Rocky pops up behind her. Ginger had never dreamed she would be so happy to see him in her life. The rooster at first tries to run on the slick surface of the conveyor belt but his feet are churning madly. More than anything he'd ever done, he wanted to get to Ginger and save her. Beneath her tough exterior, Rocky had a feeling she liked him. He fights the conveyor belt and gets his legs to work, running towards the hen. He makes a leap for her, but was about a few seconds late. The ankle clamps releases Ginger and she falls down the chute. She was gone from his grasp. Our dashing rooster makes an inadvertent pun as he looks down at her from the top of the chute.

As Rocky looked down to where Ginger had fallen and hears her helplessly screaming his name, he was unaware that he was standing on a lever. Since he didn't know he was standing on it, he also didn't know that it was moving downward under his weight. When it reached its lowest point, it turned on an indicator light that was labeled Veg Feed. A trough of mixed vegetables poured down on Rocky's head, sending him hurtling down the chute too. As he slides down the chute, ahead he sees a sign that said Veg where the mixed vegetables go but just before he arrived, it flipped over and now it says Meat. Still zooming downward, Rocky was diverted down another chute that sent him toward a set of rotating saw blades. At the last second he notices a pole he could reach and grabs onto it. He dangles over the blades for a few seconds, then the pole dips down a tad and he slides down, plummeting down a dark shaft. Down below, he could see that in the depths of the machine was a labyrinth of conveyor belts going in all directions with huge, noisy stampers, rollers and pushers going the whole time.

Rocky lands in a big clump of dough that was chugging along on a conveyor belt. And to his surprise and relief, there was Ginger chugging along as well with her feet stuck in dough too. Rocky and Ginger may be together again but right now having their feet stuck in dough is the least of their worries. They hear another menacing roar and look behind them to see a giant roller, rounding around the corner and coming down the conveyor belt toward them. It was clear to see that as it rumbles toward them, it flattens all the clumps of dough. In a second, it would flatten them too! They struggle mightily to get out of their dough balls but are far too mucked up in it so Rocky hops over to Ginger with the dough attached to his feet. He sees a chain swinging over the conveyor belt; he grabs Ginger's hand and grabs hold of the chain, pulling them both out of their dough balls and out of the way of the dough-roller.

When they reach an opening above the roller, a large pole knocks them off the chain and they plop down face-first onto a flattened blob of dough. They quickly recover from their fall when Ginger notices a giant pie crust cutter coming toward them. Rocky and Ginger quickly get out of the way in time as the cutter comes down around them, holding onto each other in the process. They notice this little detail as they look at each other when the cutter goes back up. But then they are then swept up in a pie tin that is then moved onto yet another conveyor belt. Both are scared but at least they're going through it together. Rocky places his arm on Ginger's arm to comfort her through their scary ordeal.

Up head they see a giant gravy dispenser, squirting scolding hot gravy into the tins in front of them. Then diced mixed vegetables come raining down on them. Rocky and Ginger are now stuck in a chicken pie tin being covered in diced up carrots, potatoes, peas and celery and about to be smothered in gravy. Rocky digs through the vegetables to find something to help them as Ginger keeps looking at the dispenser in fear. Soon the clever rooster grabs a whole carrot and, wielding it like an orange lance, shoves it right smack into the hot snout of the gravy blaster. The carrot plug holds; Rocky and Ginger high-five each other on their narrow escape from this ordeal. But just then, a presser comes down on them, covering them up with a layer of pastry.

A pusher then slides the Rocky-and-Ginger pie into a large room filled with other pies. This particular pie has two bulges moving around in it until the rooster and hen pop out of it, breathing some fresh air and a sigh of relief, but also feeling a little bit of heat. Rocky comments that it feels like an oven in the room they were in, but Ginger notices something he doesn't at the time. She taps his arm to alert him and that's when he finally takes notice. The room feels like an oven because it IS an oven. Rocky and Ginger watch terrified as blue lights begin to light all around them, shooting out of the floor. Then they see a large, heavy door at the front of the room start to close. With no time to lose, Ginger races toward the door with Rocky right behind her.

Rocky is following Ginger towards the door until he falls into a pie. He tries to keep up with her, he really was, but just keeps on falling into more pies and getting covered with more gravy. All the while, Ginger is still running towards the door not realizing that Rocky's ordeal. She slides through the space beneath the lowering door and looks back to see her friend falling into nearly every pie in the oven. First Rocky has rescued Ginger a few times in the machine. Now she has to rescue him. Talk about teamwork. Ginger grabs a wrench and sticks it in the door to hold it open, then races back inside, pulls Rocky out of the pie he was mucked up in and rushes him toward the door. And she knows she has to do it quickly too because the door was now bending the wrench. Soon the wrench shoots out and lands into nearby gear works, and the door starts to close again. Rocky and Ginger then slide through just in the nick of time; Ginger did have to save her beloved beanie hat before the door closed though.

Ginger places her hat back on her head and Rocky uses a rag to wipe the gravy off his face so he could see again. At least they're finally out of danger. However, Ginger then feels a drop of gravy fall on her head and one on her hand. She and Rocky look up to see the gravy dispenser still with the carrot stuck in the spout, shaking vigorously and dripping gravy. The chickens looked around the machine as it started to ground and groan. Rocky yells to Ginger that the machine is going to blow and that it's time to run. As they start to make their getaway, one of the gear works shoots out a screw and falls down on the gravy dispenser. The dispenser spits out the carrot which shoots past the fleeing Rocky and Ginger and knocks out six enormous cogs from their spot.

The terrified chickens make it to another chute just before the cogs could either come crashing down on them or block their escape. The cogs begin the clatter down the chute after Rocky and Ginger who were now running for their lives as fast as their feet could carry them. Kind of reminds you of the boulder scene from Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark, doesn't it? All around them sharp gears are shooting out and getting stuck into the walls. Up ahead they see an opening that leads to a chasm of bigger gears. Rocky uses one of his hands to grab Ginger's hand and they make a leap the rooster grabs hold with his other hand. Screaming their heads off, the chickens swing over the chasm and towards a vent where they are then flown up and out of the machine. They then land on top of a pie box rolling down a line which comes to an abrupt halt.

Rocky and Ginger can finally relax now that their scary ordeal is finally over; they were finally out of the horrible machinery. They breath a sigh of relief with Ginger lying on top of Rocky. At once, Ginger looks up and screams again, moving out of the way just as a giant press comes down from overhead and stamps a label onto Rocky's chest. The hen's face of terror gets even worse when she reads the label on the rooster's chest; she peels it off and he yells out in pain. Ouch, that's got to hurt! Ginger tells Rocky they've got to warn the other chickens of this horrible realization and they run out of the barn, completely unnoticed by the Tweedys who are far too preoccupied with their pie machine going on their fritz.

We're going to stop right there because what comes after this daring rescue is important for next week's post. Anyway last week's post has shown that Rocky and Ginger are starting to like each other. Some might even say there's a hint of attraction between them. However you never really know how much someone cares about you unless they do something to show it like doing a kind and heartfelt act or even a brave and daring deed. In this case, Rocky went in to rescue Ginger from the pie machine even though he was in danger himself. He may have been scared but he swallowed his fear to rescue his damsel in distress. After their dance and her apology, Rocky was starting to truly care about Ginger. The rooster even had a feeling that the hen was starting to care about him after seeing him cheer up her friends and their dance together as well. In this case, it's true; Ginger does care about Rocky because when he needed rescuing himself, she came to his aid. This whole action-packed scene showed just how much they do care about each other. When one needed saving, the other is there to lend a helping hand even if it meant putting themselves in danger in the process.

Anyway this is my eighth weekly Rocky/Ginger moment post commemorating the upcoming sequel to Chicken Run. I hope you enjoyed this post. There will be 4 other posts about the first film coming up in the future as well as one monthly post about the sequel. Waiting for this long-awaited sequel may not be easy but these posts are making it easier as the release date draws nearer.

[devil-doll13]

Summer Breeze

Ciarán x cottagecore!Reader

Tw: mostly Fluff and a lil bit of Smut at the end, mostly a collection of drabbles rather than a connected story, this is mostly just an excuse for me to ✨simp✨ for Ciarán so there isn’t much of an actual plot lol enjoy

Based off of this post I did a month ago or so

Word Count: 4078

Summary: While minding your own business in the cottage you’ve inherited from a relative, you catch the eye of an ancient, mysterious being…

Dividers by firefly-graphics

Life certainly doesn’t get any better than this.

The sun is shining, bright and cheerful, as you dander up the road towards your modest home. You can’t grow strawberries in this temperate climate, but you can certainly buy them; it’s only about a 15 minute walk from the village and back.

That’s not so bad, you think, admiring the Irish countryside that surrounds you. Verdant green, rolling hills, filled with fluffy sheep and lazy brown cows. You hear the telltale clip-clop of hooves behind you and turn around to see a ruddy-faced, smiley rider on a dappled stallion. You wave at them, grinning back, and you are allowed to pat their horse’s nose. He eagerly snuffles into your hand, searching for treats, nudging you as you giggle.

Once you’re back at the cottage, you clasp shut the white gate behind you and make a beeline to your kitchen, sweeping off your hat and depositing your groceries on the counter. It’s overflowing with jam jars and fruit bowls, a veritable cornucopia. Once you’re done putting away the food, you pad shoeless into the cozy living room and enjoy the sensation of the furry rug beneath your feet. This room is packed wall-to-wall with old, retro armchairs and your blanketed sofa, and crammed in between them is your sole, lonesome bookshelf. A small television sits off in the corner, a relic from decades past.

The Summer afternoon glows sweet and yellow through your windows, melting into your floral wallpaper like honey. It’s dinnertime by now, for both you and your feathered friends; you step out of your back door and cheerfully greet your chickens outside, watching your girls strutting and clucking as you scatter feed on the ground.

“Now, Bertha… Let Milly have some. You need to share!” You scold. Bertha has been hogging the feed again, believing her size and status to be superior.

After you eat, you crack open the book you’ve been putting off reading and curl up on your pillows. You feel good today. It’s peaceful here, not like the frenzied bustle of the city or the social competition of the suburbs, where all your nosy neighbours are desperate to spy on you. You’re grateful that your relative decided to leave you this place in their will instead of someone else in the family.

Outside, you hear the clip-clop of hooves again, thudding on the grass in a canter.

“It’s so late…” You yawn. “Who could be up riding at this hour?”

Stretching, you wander over to your curtains, peering out at the moonlit night. Silver fog has swallowed up the mountains, hanging over the lands like a dewy wedding veil. You blame the way it appears to shimmer on your drowsy sleepless state. Things always seem strange here late at night, and in the back of your mind you remember the myths and fairytales you were told as a child. It’s as if there’s an ancient magic here, untouched by the rapacious grip of human civilisation.

Then you see him. At first, you do not believe your own eyes; but this sight cannot be blinked away. In the quiet, blooming meadows, silent and as if in awe, stands a figure on a strong, black horse. The glimmer of the mist conceals his upper body, but you still can see his sharp, pointed sabatons resting in the stirrups. This is no farmer.

It seems he senses your gaze, and he and his mount turn to face you. Your heart almost stops. For wonder or for terror, you do not know which. Only you are frozen, unable to move. It is only when he pulls back and gallops away into the night that your paralysis gives way, and the fog lifts too, revealing only the milky white flowers of the field, bathed in the moonlight. You gasp for air, feeling as if you’ve been doused with a bucket full of ice water. This brush with what you believe to be the Supernatural does not soon leave you, but engraves itself deep within your mind.

That night, you dream of him, still hidden by shimmering mist.

In the days that follow, you feel a presence follow you on your afternoon walks and your visits to the village. Curiously, you do not feel unnerved, but instead when you leave the local pub late at night, it seems an invisible aura of protection wards off all danger. In the most outlandishly wee hours of the morning, too, you hear the pounding of hooves and whinnies and snorts, and no longer do you fear that a fox in the night will gobble up your beloved chickens or that a burglar will invade your home for fear of crossing him.

You are now quite convinced that this mysterious entity has been watching over you, keeping you safe like some dark guardian angel. How you caught this being’s eye, you have no idea, but you know rightly not to take it for granted. You’ve been taught to respect these lands and all the creatures that still live within them. Often you leave a basket of sweet fruit and bread or homemade brownies outside your door, and in the morning you find in return a bunch of carefully arranged flowers or precious minerals left in its place. This alone confirms your theory, and you can’t help but feel positively giddy at the idea of befriending a fae. Any scepticism you once had is long gone.

Now unafraid of threats in the night, you embark on nightly wanderings across the foggy moors, hoping to catch a glimpse of him again. Your mind has begun to fabricate all sorts of strange tales and explanations for him being here; for why he favours you.

But you want the truth. And on one of these late night walks, you see him again.

You’re certain that if he didn’t want you to, he could’ve hidden himself from you forever. Now, he chooses to reveal himself. All the air leaves your lungs as you see him looming over you on his horse, and you now realise he lacks a head. A wispy blue light flickers on his neck, hissing like a furnace. Before you, the fog draws back like curtains on a stage play, and you are his speechless audience.

He dismounts, and you find yourself drawn towards him. You’ve heard of such a figure in folklore, but never could you have anticipated the true grandeur of his presence. Like some kind of mythic royalty, he exudes a kind of unearthly majesty. You can’t help but feel a little intimidated by him, even though you have been anticipating this meeting for weeks.

It strikes you then that all the offerings of food you’ve given to him were probably worthless. The way his mare nudges your hand tells you that she probably enjoyed your apples, though. You turn back to look at him. He’s watching you, and though he has no eyes, he beholds you with such an intensity that it makes you shy away from him.

“Who are you?” Your voice echoes into the dark. “Um… Could I know your name?” It is difficult not to feel meek, dwarfed by this otherworldly knight.

You don’t expect a verbal answer, and barely even hope for one at all. But soon he extends his black, gauntleted hand and in his palm you see a smooth, carved stone. You take it, lips twitching in amusement. He even gives you a small, polite bow. It’s like he’s giving you his business card.

“Thankyou.” You beam up at him and gladly tell him your own, and you are pleased to see the flame on his neck flare in response. You hope that means something good.

It surprises you that night how readily he is able to answer your questions, as if he’s been expecting all of them. Without words or expression, it requires some interpretation on your end, but you manage. The night grows late and you receive a first tentative horse riding lesson; though you spend much of it nervous and watchful of the great distance between you and the pitch black ground below. A steady arm winds around your stomach and holds you fast against a cool, solid metal cuirass. Now you start to allow tension to leave your body and trust in your companion. You feel in your heart that he would not let you fall or come to harm.

He returns you home far faster than you would’ve liked. You find that you enjoy being close to him, held fast by strong arms. It is this stubborn little thought that makes your face feel hot as he helps you back down. The cracks of dawn, softly orange and warm, are already peeking up from the horizon. You wonder in the back of your mind if this is why he must leave you now. Considering his sluggish movements, he seems as reluctant to part with you as you are.

“Goodbye!” You wave a farewell to him, and he draws up on his magnificent horse as she whinnies, galloping off into the darkness.

When you return to your cottage that night, you feel so sleepy you collapse on your sofa, dizzy.

After this encounter, it’s hard to believe that your life will go back to normal. Everything seems different now, cast in a new light.

You don’t go searching for him again right away, but you’re aware of his gloomy, stalwart presence shadowing you. You stop leaving him food, convinced he’ll find it useless; you’re eager to keep him interested, hoping that he’ll continue hovering curiously around you. This does not stop him from continuing to give gifts to you, something you find out one night you almost stumble over a bundle of oddly made spades on your way to your little garden; they feel so light and well-adjusted to your hands. When you discover them, you feel a sense of relief wash over you, and bashful glee. Not because you’re materialistic, but because you’re beginning to nurse what you thought were foolish hopes. To think that he might return your growing interest, that he sees you as more than simply a trifling amusement to waste his plentiful time on.

Those tools were exactly what you needed after all: you had just very recently broken your old spade.

To your delight, he grows progressively bolder, and one evening while you’re trying to pry Bertha off the others’ shares of chicken feed, you sight him lurking on the horizon, watching over you in the dimming light of the sundown. This encounter sends a happy thrill through you, and motivates you again to learn more about him. Either one of you needs to break the proverbial ice, and considering your mortal lifespan, you don’t want to sit around just waiting for him to do it.

Unfortunately, you don’t crack the code on the rock he’s given you for days. It takes some fair effort to translate, as well as several visits to the local library and several dives down internet rabbit holes, and even then you suspect he has tried his best to communicate with you. But this language was ancient, older than your most distant ancestors. You hold it in your hands and it thrums with power, pulsing like a heartbeat.

“Ciarán…” You murmur under the lamplight, studying the runes engraved in the stone. They are tiny, chicken scratch etchings that make your head hurt when you look at them; perhaps not entirely due to eye strain. “And… Gorm… Laith…” In your mind swim many forgotten Irish pronunciation lessons, and it takes another google search for you to feel confident enough to address him by his name the next time you meet.

“That’s your name, right? That’s what you were trying to tell me?” You ask him. Again, he looms over you, his armoured figure almost melting into the darkness.

The icy glow of his neck-fire morphs and spits in what you hope is happiness, because you’re actually quite nervous about messing this up in front of him.

“Oh, that’s good…” You sigh, relieved.

That night you acquaint yourself a little more with him, and the next evening he takes you out for another ride. This time not due to necessity, but for leisure. You trot up mountains and through shaded trees of woods, and he reveals to you hidden glades shimmering in moonlight, crowned with mushroom rings.

This is how you begin your friendship with him, though in your heart, you know you want more.

You are quick to welcome him into your home, and in the darker evenings he makes a habit of keeping vigil quietly as you cook dinner (if only for yourself) and fold laundry. You often find yourself rambling to him about your day. It’s very easy to slip into revealing so much about your personal life to him, because he is so stoic and unbothered. You are certain you could mention to him off-hand that you’ve murdered someone and he wouldn’t bat an eyelash. Not that he has them.

Ciarán is a man of scant words, of course. He will stand quite upright, unmoving, for hours on end for you. It is for this reason that you are shocked when he strides across your tiny living room and picks out a book from your dusty, neglected shelf.

“Oh… Yeah, I never actually finished that.” You say.

You have always felt slightly guilty for this, and wonder now if you should give it another try. He cracks it open and presents it to you, gesturing in his elegant way.

“You want me to read it to you?”

By now, you’re well used to interpreting him. He hisses in what you assume to be a ‘yes’ and you shrug your shoulders. You’re a little bewildered, but he crams himself into an armchair that’s far too small for him and you start the book again. This time, it seems far more interesting, maybe because you’re hoping he enjoys it as well. To be honest, it may also be an excuse to keep him here for a while longer. He tends to insist you go to sleep when it’s late, and leaves you.

But it’s difficult not to feel drowsy sometimes, and you do nod off; only to find yourself waking up in bed, snuggly tucked into your cushions. You sit up, and he is nowhere to be seen.

One night, you decide to teach him to write in English.

He isn’t difficult to persuade. If anything, you begin to suspect that he has been trying to ask you to do this for a while, nudging blank sheets towards you and tracing a sharp talon over it. More than once he has poked a hole in the paper this way. You want to kick yourself for not realising this sooner, and lead him eagerly to your sofa to your cluttered mess of stationary and notebooks.

The sight of him holding a tiny pencil between his huge armoured fingers is comical to say the least. You notice that his handwriting is unusual, seemingly wanting to stray back into the esoteric runes and symbols that are more familiar to him. You teach him how to write your name and it becomes his favourite thing to scrawl on his paper, second only to ‘Gormlaith.’

For a while the only other words he can manage are “Hello,” and “Dear to me,” but his terse, broken notes to you grow gradually into more refined passages. Even with simple tools, you find he can construct quite meaningful sentences, rich with surprising emotion. He pens several letters to you, and you scour over them all, one by one, in hopes that you’ll understand him better.

One day you notice he treats one of these letters to you as being of great importance, and when you open it you are astounded to see it is a declaration of love. For you.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in a human like me…” You stare at your feet, flustered.

For all your overthinking, you haven’t realised how clear his intentions have been all this time. Then, you hear the scratch of a pencil over paper, and he pushes it over to you. You shift and read it over:

“You’re more precious than you know.”

This makes your ears ring. Feeling bold, you bestow a kiss on the cold metal of his gauntlet, and hear a crisp hiss sounding in response. You allow yourself to lean against his chest and sigh, murmuring your acceptance.

From then on, there is an agreement between the two of you: you are his now.

One night you pack up for a picnic in the dark, and he humours you despite his inability to eat. He seems to enjoy your company regardless.

You’ve never known fireflies to live in Ireland, but you have the funny feeling that the tiny glowing orbs that welcome you aren’t lightning bugs. There’s a curious music in the air, like windchimes, and a warm Summer breeze rustles the grass around you. You choose a sheltered patch in the glade to lay down your tartan spread and basket. Gormlaith, still sporting a knitted blanket you had fashioned for her, trots over to a nearby river and laps at the water there, leaving you and Ciarán alone. He curls an arm around you and you lean into him, all cold, sharp metal and fire, but you have never felt so comfortable.

Something strange happens as you spread jam over a slice of bread, and your attention is drawn by your lover pointing off into the distance. You see it, then, a ghostly blue wisp hanging over the marshes shrouded with fog, and almost drop your sandwich. There are more behind and to the sides of you, glowing with ice. You realise they’re surrounding you both now, haunting the bog like death’s lanterns.

You should be used to this sort of thing by now, but to be able to confront it as a real, tangible phenomenon, and not simply the work of an overactive imagination, is always incredibly surreal.

“Is this your doing?” You stare at him accusingly, grinning. He makes no move to confirm it, so you turn back to watch the flowers sway, biting into your sandwich. He is never transparent, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t bother you sometimes. Even after giving him the tools he needed to tell you all, he remains a great mystery to you.

There’s something wistful about him too, like an old soldier come back from war. You wonder if you’ll ever know him, truly.

Your staring is a little too obvious. He gently touches your cheek with his hand, a soft caress of gauntleted talons. The fire on his neck crackles richly, flaring like he’s admiring you. When you smile and lean into his touch, you see his chest swell proudly.

“Ciarán,” you start, “Could… Could I see you without the armour?”

It’s a loaded question, but you hope he won’t take offence to it. You’re not afraid of him, but you don’t want him to clam up.

His hand comes to stroke your side, and he seems deep in thought for a moment. You’re content to snuggle in closer to him, but then he shifts off the ground. You look up at him questioningly, but he offers you his hand. ‘Come with me,’ he’s saying. Gormlaith trots over on his command, and nudges you.

Ciarán lifts you up with ease and places you on her back. You pat her neck as he mounts, embracing you gently from behind. Your pulse is thick in your ears. You’re thinking you can take this as him allowing you to see him; but not here.

He kicks firmly, and you gallop off.

You shut the door of your bedroom and pull the curtains closed. All is quiet, except for the furnace-like hiss behind you and the beating of your heart.

For a long time, you’ve seen the armour as if it was his own skin, and you almost can’t believe you’re seeing it removed now, clasp by clasp. His gauntlets come off, stiff as if they were frozen, and you see his skin is ashen grey, drab like a corpse’s. Your hands are extended, unsure, but they meet him eagerly. Ciarán allows you to trace an experimental hand across his forearm and up through his collarbone. You see where his head was cleaved from his body, and though it may be a gruesome sight to some, you only wish that you could brush your warm cheek against his, and kiss him there. He clasps your fingers in his and gently rubs your thumb, as if to soothe you against this thought.

He tugs gently at the bands of your clothes and you feel your body shake a little as you shed them and reveal yourself to him. But you’re overwhelmed by want as he touches you, and your embarrassment is quickly away.

He gathers you up and sits down on your bed. It creaks dangerously under his weight, but you cannot think of that now, close as you are, almost melded together. He handles you as if you were his toy, guiding you into his lap. You feel so hot, bunching your hands into his embroidered tunic. You feel your way into his naked chest, finding relief in the cool, solid flesh there.

“I need you…” You sigh breathlessly.

He’s kneading your hips like a cat, almost purring with satisfaction. You think he’s trying to savour the moment, but you can’t help but feel that he enjoys you like this; all desperate and needy. He creeps a hand downward, and your stomach twitches as you feel his palm smooth over it, your heart throbbing as he reaches the inside of your thighs. His movements are achingly slow, and you’re unable to stop yourself from pressing into him.

“Ciarán!”

The deft strokes of his fingers feel mind-numbingly good. You’re shivering with anticipation, brushing softly against his crotch. He’s hard, too. Once he’s satisfied he’s prepared you enough, he draws the strings on his breeches. You swallow at the sight of him, and eagerly position yourself above him. He keeps you still with a firm hold on your thighs, hissing heatedly.

Ciarán finally sinks inside you, and you cry out against him. You’re being stretched like never before. You can tell from his hesitation that he’s being careful not to hurt you, but through the momentary pain you feel white, hot pleasure.

He’s still holding your hips in place to keep you from moving. You whine, torn agonisingly between wanting more and being overwhelmed by sensation. It all feels too good all at once. Ciarán grips your waist and fucks you deeper still, petting your head fondly as a reward for taking him so well. It isn’t long before you’re cumming messily around his cock, almost drooling onto his shoulder.

Ciarán lays your sweaty body down on your pillows, his fire blazing. He’s not done with you yet. That night, he has his way with you until you’re spent and exhausted, and you barely remember falling asleep before you’re wrapped in linen.

-

In the morning you wake up with a nagging fear pricking at your neck. For so long you have been paranoid; what if your lover is a mere fantasy, an illusion conjured by mist? But you open your eyes, and feel Ciarán’s cool skin against your face and his arms enveloping you.

You stir drowsily, sighing in contentment. It was not a dream. His neck is unlit at first, but it soon crackles to life as you adjust yourself; you have no intention of leaving his embrace. Your thick curtains shield you both from the early morning sun, its pure, golden rays reaching only to the foot of your bed. A soft breeze flutters from the open window, smelling of wildflowers. Outside, you hear the sweet calls of songbirds and the clucking of your beloved chickens.

You lean over to kiss his collarbone, and he rubs a soothing thumb into your naked thigh. It seems he feels no pressing need to move either, drawing the sheets closer to your body, as if to shelter you.

You can feel yourself starting to fall asleep again, and you don’t try to fight it, but doze off contentedly on his chest.

Life certainly doesn’t get any better than this.

(Taglist: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @myers-meadow, @solmints-messyocdiary)

This is my nsfw Taglist, let me know if you want let off/added

[hiyouuk]

What Can You Find in a Chinese Supermarket Near You?

How do you prepare the sumptuous Chinese dishes you’ve always wanted? The answer is simple - genuine, fresh, and top-quality Chinese ingredients. You can only ascertain the products you spend your money on are authentic if you buy them from a reputable Chinese Supermarket in Bristol or anywhere else you are – make HiYou your favourite shopping destination.

What are the specific products you can expect from the supermarket near you? Here are the top items you should include in your cart:

Staple Chinese Ingredients

The journey of exploration of Chinese cuisine begins by ensuring you have the staples. Fortunately, you have a wide variety to pick from when you shop at a reputable supermarket. Rice and noodles must be the first staples you stock. Whether you’re yearning for a dish of jasmine, glutinous, or brown rice, you’ll find your favourite brands. For the noodle lovers, you have different types to consider, including:

Rice noodles

Egg noodles

Soba noodles

You deserve distinctive and bold flavours with each dish you prepare – that’s where sauces and condiments come in. You have a variety of those to choose from at the reputable grocery store near you. For example, you have light, dark, and sweet soy sauces for deep flavour and colour. Still, you can purchase sesame oil, chilli oil, oyster sauce, and vinegar among others – you must enjoy those rich flavours in your dishes!

Explore the Fresh Produce Section

Chinese supermarkets are dedicated to ensuring you have fresh produce as and when you need them – when they say “fresh”, it’s in every sense of the word. When you purchase the produce, you can create the authentic Chinese dishes you desire. Purchase Bok choy and enjoy the peppery flavour it adds to your stir-fries, soups, and salads. Other vegetables you can purchase in these supermarkets include Chinese cabbage, lotus root, and Chinese morning glory.

Fresh and frozen meat and seafood are also available at your favourite Chinese supermarket – you can enjoy them any time you want. Purchase and savour tender pork belly - the perfect balance of fat and meat makes it ideal for slow cooking methods that render the fat and create a melt-in-the-mouth experience. You can also have your duck, chicken feet, and beef tendons here. In the seafood section, you have fresh fish, prawns, crabs, and shellfish among others.

Tasty Snacks and Mouthwatering Beverages

You also require tasty snacks and mouthwatering drinks - Chinese supermarkets offer an enticing variety for you. In the snacks section, you can go for specialties such as prawn crackers, rice crackers, seaweed snacks, and dried fruits. They are often enjoyed as a snack on their own or served alongside dishes as a crunchy accompaniment.

If you love beverages, you have many varieties to explore. Enjoy the refreshing taste of bubble tea, soothing herbal teas, the goodness of soy milk, and other unique beverages such as melon tea. Whether you are looking for a quick snack or a refreshing drink, the selection in Chinese supermarkets ensures that there is something for everyone to enjoy.

Cooking Utensils and Tableware

To prepare and serve those sumptuous dishes, you need top-quality utensils – you have the best pieces at reputable Chinese supermarkets. You can purchase woks, steamers, rice cookers, and cleavers here. Still, you can invest in tableware including traditional Chinese bowls, chopsticks, tea cups, and soup spoons.

Enjoy Your Chinese Supermarket Shopping!

These supermarkets have a wide range of top-quality products. You can purchase Chinese staples, fresh produce, snacks, and beverages. They also have cooking utensils and tableware. HiYou is the best Chinese Supermarket in Edinburgh – purchase your groceries both in-store and online!

[brathaifarm]

Why You Should Buy Frozen Chicken Breast from Brathai Farm

Are you looking for high-quality frozen chicken breast that retains its freshness and flavor? Look no further than Brathai Farm! With our commitment to excellence and sustainable farming practices, we offer the perfect solution for your culinary needs. Let's explore why buying frozen chicken breast from Brathai Farm is a smart choice. frozen chicken feet

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[mara-xx217]

Kinktober 2022, Day Four Frottage/Public

You just wanted to go home but instead you had an unfortunate meeting with a freak...

Warnings: Frottage/Non-Con Touching, Dub-Con, Non-Con, Creampie, Marking

   The store was largely empty at this time of night. Not quite closing time, you had a handful of customers come in. Ugh, now? Really? You had hoped that there would be no one so your boss would let you all close early. Guess not…

   You try to look busy. I’m stocking shelves and totally not goofing off… You pretended to face the store. Yes, it’s imperative  that the soup labels are facing the right way. A customer walks into the aisle in your peripheral vision.

   Fuck.

   You pretend the soups are really interesting to look at, shuffling down the aisle as nonchalantly as possible. Okay, you’re awkward as hell but c’mon… Who goes out to buy soup at eleven o’clock at night?! 

   One after another, you look at the cans in front of you. Turning them this way and that… Ugh… Your mind starts to wonder. What will I have for breakfast? My feet hurt… Damn… You rest your forehead on the shelving in front of you. 

   Will it ever end…?

   A presence behind you made you cringe. Ugh, are they still here?! You don’t pretend to care. Maybe they’ll leave once you refuse to acknowledge- 

   Huh? 

   You’re crowded against the shelving. Your heart drops then leaps to your throat as you feel their chest against your back. W-Wha-? Seriously…? You’re frozen in shock, you guess. Even as a hand goes to your waist you don’t bother to move. 

   Even as you feel his body move against yours you don’t react.

   Is this really happening? You stare at some chicken soup as you feel something hard grind against your ass.

   Yep, it’s happening. 

   Another hand creeps up your shirt, groping and feeling your chest. The movements were subtle enough to not seem too innocuous, but anyone that looked for more than a second would know exactly what was happening. 

   It was happening too fast. The hand on your waist, that was moving you back into his hips, plunges past the waistband of your pants. They find their way inside of you, pumping in and out and you can’t believe how wet and hot you feel. 

   It only lasts a few seconds before the hand is removed. A complaint was on your tongue but was completely forgotten as your pants were pulled down to your mid-thigh in one smooth motion. 

   You- You’re really doing this, huh? You brace yourself on the shelves as you feel the head of his member rub against you. You had to bite your hand to prevent yourself from crying out as he pushed inside of you.

   This wouldn’t last long… You steady yourself with one hand while your other shot down between your legs. He grabbed your wrist, wrenching your arm behind your back as he quickened his pace. If anyone were close… It could be heard, you were sure of it.

   You’re so wet- 

   It ended as suddenly as it started. A throbbing warmth filled you, and before you could really comprehend what had just happened he leaned down and bit you on the shoulder. 

   Hard.

   By the time you were able to pull your pants up and catch your breath, he was gone. You rushed to the bathroom, both to clean up and to reach your own climax. Somehow you were both sick and turned on by what just happened. As you were making yourself presentable once more, something caught your attention.

   Not the glaring bite mark on your shoulder that was barely hidden by your shirt collar, but the piece of paper that was shoved into your pocket. An address in sloppy handwriting you didn’t recognize. You should have thrown it away, called the cops- something other than shove it back into your pocket with the intention of figuring out what and where this place was.

  You didn’t want to see the mystery man again! Y-You just wanted to know what to avoid… You swear-!

-If you liked this, you may also like: Monsters' Favorite Ch. 4 (Wraith)

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire

[waitineedaname]

"Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out"

For benrey @ gordon?

“And can you pick up some oat milk while you’re there? I just realized I’m out.”

“Man, oat milk freaks me out,” Benrey said, pushing their shopping cart towards the dairy section anyway. “Like, do oats even have, uh. Others?”

“Others?” There was a beat of silence as Gordon attempted to figure out exactly what the hell Benrey was talking about. “You mean udders?”

“Yeah. Cow things.”

“Dude, that’s not how oat milk works.” Gordon’s laugh made Benrey’s cheap phone speakers crackle.

“Then how does it work? Huh? Mister scientician?” Benrey propped the phone between their ear and shoulder as they opened the fridge door to grab the brand of oat milk he knew Gordon liked.

“I don’t fucking know! I’m not a goddamn milk scientist.” Even through a phone call, Benrey could hear the smile on Gordon’s face. “They squeeze juice out of the oats or smush them into a paste or something. I don’t know. Stop making me think about how oat milk works, it’s going to make me not want to drink it anymore.”

“Cool, so I’ll buy milk with extra lactose then.”

“You will not, unless you wanna deal with me laying on the couch complaining all afternoon because my stomach hurts.”

“You do that anyway.”

“Fuck off, man.” Gordon’s tone of voice didn’t carry any bite to it. “Alright, I gotta go, I’m almost at the end of the queue to pick Joshie up. I’ll see you back at home, okay?”

“Mhm. Love you, bye.” Benrey hung up and shoved their phone back in their jacket pocket. They unfolded the shopping list and attempted to decipher the mix of their own chicken scratch, Gordon’s doctor handwriting, and the occasional misspelled request for snacks in Joshua’s six year old handwriting. Okay, they had to get those frozen chicken nuggets Joshua liked, another pack of seltzer, a can of black beans since Gordon was planning to cook dinner tonight-

Thinking about Gordon made them suddenly freeze in place as they realized what they’d just done. Did… Did they just say “love you” on the phone with Gordon?

Aw, fuck.

They’d been living with Gordon for a while now. It hadn’t always been an easy thing for either of them. When they’d been freshly respawned, both of them had been jumpy around each other at best, and at worst, they were at each other’s throats trying to kill each other. It took a long time and a lot of uncomfortable conversations for them to get to the point where they could interact without an unbearable amount of tension. From there, they were able to start rebuilding an actual friendship. Turns out, they got along a lot better when they weren’t in mortal danger. Who knew!

Living with Gordon involved a lot of rules, both spoken and unspoken. They involved stuff like “don’t ask weird questions about Gordon’s feet,” “if one of them gets too angry, walk it off instead of actually fighting,” and “no gross body horror in front of Gordon’s son.” It also involved shit like “please for the love of god don’t put empty juice cartons back in the fridge” and “don’t stain the carpets with Sweet Voice, this is a rental and that security deposit is worth getting back.” So far, Benrey hadn’t had too much trouble following the rules. They had been a security guard, after all; following rules was supposed to be their thing. Besides, they were a low price to pay to get to spend time with Gordon.

One of those early unspoken rules, however, had been “keep the flirting to a minimum.” That one had been a little tricky at first, but it had been necessary, especially back when they still weren’t on the best of terms. Benrey learned that when Gordon was already worked up, blowing a kiss did the opposite of diffusing the situation. This was news to Benrey. Who didn’t love a little kiss from their buddies? Lame.

That had been an early rule, though, and one that had kind of faded into the background over time. The longer they lived together, the more physically affectionate they both got, and a little domesticity is only to be expected when you share a household. It was nice. Comfortable.

And then Benrey had to go and say “I love you” on the phone. What the fuck.

That had to be crossing a line, right? Gordon was fine with some handholding and some cuddling and they’d make dinner together once a week, but this had to be pushing it.

Benrey went through the rote motions of buying the rest of their groceries without really paying attention, too busy panicking. There was only one option. They had to move out. This was fine. This was totally fine. They could just crash on Tommy’s couch until they find a place of their own because there was no way this wasn’t going to make Gordon freak the fuck out. As much as they loved fucking with Gordon, they’d learned there was the fun kind of freaking him out and the bad kind of freaking him out. They were fairly certain this fell into the bad category.

By the time that they were walking up to their apartment door, they were already mentally packing up all their things, resigned to their fate. They were so stuck in their own head that Joshua barreling into their legs when they opened the door actually startled them.

“Benny!” Joshua cheered, clinging to their jeans.

“Hey, li’l dude.” Benrey carefully tried to push past the kid without tripping over him on the way to the kitchen. Tragically, that’s where Gordon also happened to be.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Gordon asked, taking some of the grocery bags from them. “I thought you’d gotten lost in Costco again.”

Benrey grunted noncommittally and started putting away groceries instead of answering Gordon. Maybe if they didn’t look at him, they could avoid confronting whatever Gordon’s reaction was. Yeah, definitely, this seemed like a sustainable, reasonable decision to make. Yep.

“Dude.” Gordon’s hand suddenly appeared on their forearm. Benrey stared at it, then looked up at Gordon’s concerned face. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You’re putting carrots in the utensil drawer.”

Benrey looked down at their hands again. Oh. So they were.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since you got back from the store,” Gordon said, gently taking the carrots away from them. “Did something happen? You wanna talk about it?”

Benrey screwed their mouth up. No, they didn’t want to talk about it, but learning how to talk through things like adults was something they both had agreed to do. That had been a rule introduced by an exasperated Tommy, sick of mediating their bullshit. So, they sighed and looked away while Gordon put the carrots in the vegetable drawer of the fridge. “I was thinking about how I’ve gotta move out.”

“What?” Gordon stood up too fast and smacked his head on the freezer door. He swore loudly, and Benrey reached over to hand him a bag of frozen peas to put on the back of his head. “Thanks. But also, what? Since when are you moving out?”

“Uh, since now?” Benrey said, confused. Shouldn’t it be obvious?

“Why?”

“‘Cause I said I love you on the phone? Dummy? You, uh, a fucking old man got bad brain disease, not remembering things?” They said, defaulting to picking on Gordon to avoid focusing on anything else. Gordon stared blankly at them for a moment, then, against all odds, a grin spread across his face.

“Benrey,” He said, and Benrey decided he didn't like that tone one bit, “Are you embarrassed?”

“Whuh? No.” There was no way they could be embarrassed. That definitely wasn't what was going on here. Nope. Not a bit, “...Maybe.”

“Dude, you don't have to be embarrassed about that.” Gordon laughed. “Do you know how often I've said stupid Freudian slips? I called my sixth grade teacher mom once and wanted to change my name and move to Canada. I've been there.”

“It wasn't, uh… It wasn't too much? Not crossing a line or anything?”

“Nah, man. It was kinda sweet.” Gordon flashed him a smile and finished putting away the last of the groceries.

“Cool.” Benrey relaxed, letting go of the tension that had been building in their shoulders. “That's good ‘cause I was gonna fight you for custody of your Xbox.” Gordon snorted.

“Good fucking luck, you’re too much of a Playstation guy to win that case.”

The evening passed relatively uneventfully from there. Gordon enlisted Benrey’s help in cooking dinner, and Joshua eagerly told them all about the cool dinosaur facts he’d learned in class that day. They went through the easy routine of watching just one episode (which of course always turned into several episodes) of Joshua’s choice of TV, then Benrey helped wash up in the kitchen while Gordon put Josh to bed. Gordon joined them as they finished washing dishes and squeezed Benrey’s shoulder affectionately when they were done.

“Alright, man, I think I’m gonna head to bed early tonight.”

Benrey nodded. “Cool. I’ll be quiet.”

“Don’t worry about it. G’night, dude.”

“Night, Gordon.”

“Oh, and Benrey?” Gordon paused in the doorway of his bedroom and waited until Benrey glanced up at him. Gordon smiled. “Love you too.”

He shut the door before Benrey could respond, leaving Benrey to stare blankly at the door. They let out a groan, careful not to wake Joshua. Oh, Gordon was going to be the death of them.

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Caerus (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- Champ by his mom & sister

Hermes II by the others

Age- 8 (immortal)

Location- Skyline district, New Olympus

Personality- He's a trickster through and through. He loves gaining attention whether it be positive or negative. He's a show-off, brash, impulsive, & a bit manipulative.

He has the standard abilities of a god. As of now at his age being the god of opportunity his other powers/abilities include being able to shapeshift into a fox or rabbit, being able to manifest miniature wings on his feet (but only able to fly short distances), & being able to curse someone with bad luck or bless someone with good luck (but it only lasts for a half hour).

Caerus lives with his mother Evimería (goddess of prosperity) at their mansion estate in the Skyline neighborhood. His older sister Tyche (goddess of luck) lives about a half hour away. He loves where he lives, calling it his own personal playground or "Funland." He's always messing with the holographic settings for the kitchen and many bathrooms. A personal favorite room of his is the indoor basketball court.

His go-to drinks include fruit punch, cola, lemonade, root beer flavored soda, hot chocolate, limeade, & OmegaDash energy drinks. He also likes the mint chocolate chip milkshakes from The Frozen Spoon.

Among the pets they own, Caerus has a newly aquired adolescent dragon which he named Dymerion. Due to the creature's speed and agility, he's often referred to as "Dymerion the Swift." The dragon has bright green & bronze colored scales. A favorite pasttime for Caerus has been riding on dragonback (especially to school).

Most days things are too hectic for his mom to make breakfast so The Bread Box is a natural stop where he'll buy a BLT on a hero for breakfast and a chicken, spinach, & feta burrito afterschool. Caerus also enjoys a bowl of double chocolate moonstone cereal.

He's currently on break from school. Caerus' best friends are Prophasis (goddess of excuses), Hebe (goddess of youth), and Paidia (goddess of play & amusement). Caerus likes to think of themselves as the popular kids. He's garnered the reputation for being a total prankster & a bit of a bully. He often pokes fun at Myrízei (god of smell & gases). Caerus also socializes with the other schoolmates but hasn't really talked to the other young deities like Xenia (godess of hospitality), Aceso (goddess of healing), Physis (goddess of nature), & Mneme (goddess of remembrance). Caerus can't stop himself from drooling when he catches a glimpse of the godly fifth graders Calleis (goddess of allurement), Melete (goddess of thought & meditation), Eulabeia (goddess of caution), Aidos (goddess of shame, modesty, humility, & respect), and Ersa (goddess of morning dew).

At school, his favorite class is gym and Caerus always looks forward to recess.

Once a week, he'll stop by Confetti Candy Co. where he'll by a plethora of treats like blueberry flavored rock candy, a pound of assorted gumballs & jawbreakers, peanut butter and marshmallow creme filled chocolates, & sour lime candy straws.

His favorite dessert from Hollyhock's Bakery are the chocolate frosted donuts (with sprinkles). He also likes his mom's ergolavi (which he likes to dip in hot chocolate).

Caerus has a good relationship with his mother and sister. He's well aware of his ability to play them both like a lyre to get what he wants. The latest cool gift he's recieved from his sister is a skateboard crafted from Celestial Bronze. He enjoys playing video games with his mom & riding their dragons together.

In the pantheon, he's the BIGGEST fan of Hermes. Caerus hopes that when the time comes, he'll be under the messenger god's mentorship. He also likes Agon (god of sports & contests), Horme (god of energy), Morá (goddess of babies & children); who's often his baby-sitter, and Draco (god of dragons) who helped him with the training & taming of Dymerion. He also misses his mom's former boyfriend Aplistos (god of avarice). Caerus looked to him as a father figure & was even taught by him how to play poker.

He has a growing collection of Airopolis sneakers with the hopes of getting the special edition gold plated ones for Christmas.

Caerus has crushes on Nemesis (goddess of retribution), Eupraxia (goddess of well‐being & success), Terpischore (muse of dance), Nike (goddess of victory), and Thalia (muse of comedy).

His favorite foods include a large pizza pie topped with green and yellow bell peppers, an olympian burger (with extra pickles), garlic chicken tenders, and fried jalapeño poppers.

In his free time, Caerus has taken on guitar & drum lessons as new hobbies. He also enjoys basketball, bowling, football (soccer), baseball, skateboarding, drawing, playing video games, and laser tag.

"Luck is a great ingredient to success!"

[rodeoxqueen]

Can you do more head cannons of The DMC boys taking care of their baby girl???

Howdy,

I do not think I’ve written headcanons of Dante, Vergil, Nero, and V with a baby daughter? Well, no time like the present. 

Enjoy, 

Rodeo 

Dante 

“Baby. Baby girl. Baaaaaby!” Dante calls as his daughter, white-haired and arms covered in baby fat, gurgles with joy. 

Literally the love of his life. The babe looks just like him, with white hair and blue eyes. 

Lady and Trish adore the baby girl and do not trust him to dress their niece cutely. So they spend all his money buying the cutest little shoes and dresses. The baby fever is so bad for them. 

Dante is so protective of his little demon child. He duct tapes all the sharp corners in his shop. It’s Hello-Kitty and red duct tape. It’s such an eye-sore but he’s so proud of himself. 

He doesn’t use her crib. Every night, his daughter cries when he puts her in the crib. He ends up taking her to his bed, her little body resting on his chest, moving to the rising and falling of his form. 

They eat meals together, both covered in bits of food. Messy eaters, the two of them. Dante always seems to eat incredibly leaned back and his daughter copies him, leaning to the back of the baby seat with her little feet crossed.

 She loves sundaes and slaps the table when she can’t get any. Dante can’t resist giving her the strawberries to gnaw on. 

“Shithead! You’re going to give her cavities!” 

“Nero, she doesn’t even have teeth yet.” 

Sometimes they just nod at each other.

“Hey, boss lady.” 

“Dah.” 

“Very nice.” 

He gets a tactical baby carrier, much to everyone’s disgust. 

His little baby girl is often found latched onto his leg, cooing and refusing to leave from her father’s proximity. 

Vergil tries to hold her and she cries immediately. It’s because Vergil looks like a very serious Dante and that doesn’t sit right with her. 

The twins tried dressing the same and brushing their hair the same style to see what she would do. She keeps pointing to the other and saying “da-da” and grabbing at the other twin. Eventually, she starts fussing. 

Well actually, demon children can detect parental pheromones. She likely figures out who is who very soon and will not unlatch from her demon daddy. 

“She’s got quite a grip,” Vergil comments as blood soaks into Dante’s shirt where her hands clung to him.  

“Her claws came in early.” His brother grunts. His hands aren’t even on her, she is completely supporting herself with her little devil hands. 

Dante will walk out of the house with his hair done like his child’s. The last thing a demon sees is the merciless face of Hello Kitty on a barrette on Dante’s head. It’s quite frankly scarier than anything else. 

See Exhibit C-(credited to @aztarion)

Vergil 

“This is my daughter. If anything happens to her, I will kill Dante and everyone else in this room and then I will kill Dante again.” 

“Vergil what.” 

This man does not use babytalk. He talks to her in complete sentences with words Dante doesn’t even know, his child babbling in return. 

“Child, I grow quite jaded by this tirade. Either participate in nap time or stay put,  I shall not heed your intentions to stay up.” 

“Abababa!” 

“I will not tolerate your churlishness.” 

He does his best to dress her in blue. They match all the time. 

He isn’t great with doing hair that isn’t his. His daughter has all her hair swept back like her old man. She copies him, slapping her forehead and swiping her stray strands of hair back. He smirks at her likeness. 

Vergil had to be taught how to change a diaper by Nero. 

No baby carrier, he will hold her to his waist at all times and she chews on the handle of the Yamato. He just lets her. 

He doesn’t buy her toys, everyone else does.

“Child, you must stop collecting tributary from your relatives.” 

“Bababababa.” 

Vergil does not trust those two women with his child. However, he finds his daughter points to Trish and makes grabbing motions. Trish coos at her in her slender arms and laughs when she chews her hair, his daughter gripping Lady’s finger in her other hand. Vergil stops, and realizes-

This is the closest he will ever see his mother hold his child. He finds he does not mind it. 

Vergil’s daughter is protected by his doppelganger, who moves stuff out of her crawling path and ensures she doesn’t bump her little head. 

He also does not use the crib. But he tried. His baby daughter cried and reached for him, her little face scrunched up with sadness. 

“It is for your own good. You must be independent. The world is a hard place, sleeping alone is the least you can do.” 

The baby continues to cry and Vergil relents, eyes soft as he takes her back. He holds her the entire night. 

“Perhaps just this once, my little lamb.” 

All grown up, his daughter will find her baby photos in a neat scrapbook, all images were taken by Dante of Vergil holding her every night. 

Nero 

Youngest dad here, quite frankly the most competent. 

He grew up taking care of other kids, no matter how punk rock he is, his instincts to take care of kids shine through. 

She has a black pacifier that’s shaped like a skull. 

He is so clingy to this little girl, knowing how he grew up with no parents. 

His little girl is always with him. If not, she’s with Kyrie. She has to be convinced to go play with other children. 

“Hey, can an uncle hold his niece-” 

“Frick off, I’m her dad.” 

“Censoring yourself, are we?” 

He gives up swearing near her. That swear jar paid for a new school building next to the orphanage. 

Nero melts when his little girl scratches her nose the way he always does. Some things are just genetic. 

His little girl has his temper. She kicks and screams and slaps him when he doesn’t give her what she wants, although she is an angel in general. 

His kid is the first one to fully trigger, a very angry and blue one-year-old with horns and astral wings, literally bursting with demonic energy and snarling. Nero sheds a tear in pride after she slashes the side of his face. A bag of frozen peas in hand, he looks at her with joy. 

“She’s going to be so kick-butt. Just like me, huh?” 

His daughter is tolerant of her grandfather. In the arms of Vergil, she glares back at him. 

“She will be a very strong Sparda,” Vergil comments as she rips a button off his jacket. 

Nero is so soft with this baby girl. He’ll scream at Dante and his father seven ways till Sunday but coo in baby talk with her. 

He sings her to bed the classics. 

“But I’m a creep, I am a weirdo. I don’t belong here…..” Nero rocks his daughter side to side as she softly breathes. 

“N-Nero?” Kyrie asks from the doorway. He casts her a glance. 

“It’s Radiohead.” He says before returning to his loving mumbles. Kyrie sighs. 

V 

“Oh my darling. Look at you, little star.” He beams as he taps her little nose. Her hair is white just like his when Nightmare is unbound. 

He adores her, this little crawling bundle of joy. 

Cane in one hand, he holds his child in the other. 

“Wow V, human babies sure are squishy looking gremlins.” 

“Griffon-” 

“In a good way!” 

The two other familiars are also dedicated to his daughter. Shadow likes to clean her with her tongue, causing her hair to stick up in all directions. 

Griffon collects things that are shiny and gifts them to her little fat baby hands. 

Unfortunately, babies are very grabby little people. Griffon caused a power outage one time because the little starling pulled his tail feathers out in curiosity. 

Of course, V reads to his child his poetry. It’s the only way she can be put to sleep.

She fusses and V simply holds her up and asks her what the matter is. She babbles and squirms and V does his best to understand baby talk. 

He lets people hold her, although he is nearly inches away to retrieve her in case she is displeased.

Dante is the favorite uncle and she loves to play peek-a-boo with him.

V nearly keels over one day when she managed to absorb Shadow, soft baby skin decorated by black spider lilies. She returns Shadow in the form of a kitten although the big cat quickly turns back into a grown panther.

She tried it with Griffon. Yes, of course he pops out again a swearing baby chicken.

“My dear, what on earth?”

“Da-da!”

She pulls on V’s hair, threading her fingers through the midnight strands. She also puts her hand on his gently-sloping nose. He doesn’t mind it, although her fingers can be sticky. 

He keeps a little bell on his cane to waggle over her head when she is bored. She loves it and reaches her little hands to the sound. She likes to take his rings and clink them together. 

Sometimes, he gives up and just eats the same baby food she does. 

He’s a very patient father, although she can easily exhaust him with all the demands. 

“The queen reigns over all.” V muses as she throws a tantrum. 

He has a day-to-day journal of her development, full of pressed flowers and inked poetry of his Little Wanderer. 

[thetravelerwrites]

Birch (Centaur)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Female Human/Male Centaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Centaur, Reader Insert Content Warnings: Communication Disorder, Social Communication Disorder, Anxiety, Autism, Autistic Reader, Semi-Verbal Autism, Semi-Verbal Reader, Overbearing Mother, Verbal Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Ableism Series: Shelter Forest Words: 4758

Commissioned by an anonymous party, Birch finally gets his own story! The reader, who has a communication disorder, meets and somehow befriends a beautiful centaur named Birch, who lives in the woods with his family and is known throughout the town as being a bit of a playboy and a flirt. When he realizes how poorly the reader is treated by her mother, he immediately tries to rescue her. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You first saw him when you were thirteen year old. You and your mother came to Coleville to beg for work after your father had kicked you both out of the house for another woman. You and your mother worked in the laundry and kitchen of the town’s most popular tavern, washing bed sheets and tableware, so you hadn’t really had the chance to meet him when he came into town to trade. You were only ever able to watch him from a distance

He was massive, friendly, and beautiful. His horse body was the size and color of a buckskin Andalusian, with a pale tan body fur and black socks. His skin was suntanned from working in the fields of his home farm and he always wore a simply-made tunic. His hair was short and black, and his tail was long and black, but his eyes were a bright, clear blue. He smiled easily and seemed to get along with everyone. You fell in love with him as soon as you laid eyes on him.

Well, no, you knew even then that it wasn’t love, it was just fascination and infatuation, but you couldn’t help yourself. You were overjoyed every time you saw him. Not that he’d ever notice you. You were just a plain, poor, chubby laundress with red, chapped hands and a future of working in a tavern for the rest of your life. Why would he even glance at you?

You wouldn’t be able to speak to him, even if he did. You were terribly shy and timid. You’d always been that way and couldn’t help it. Talking to people, looking them in the eye, facing confrontation, it all made you terrified and shaky. You barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t your parents, although you really didn’t speak to them that much, either. You were sure the most used word in your vocabulary was sorry.

When you were younger, your parents had hoped you’d grow out of it, but you never did. Once you hit puberty and was still unable to speak, your mother began to despair of you, pushing you to talk and berating you when you couldn’t, which only made you withdraw more. You couldn’t blame her for being exasperated with you; you were just as frustrated with yourself as she was. She never said it, but you knew she blamed you for your father rejecting you both.

Even though Birch usually came alone, you were sure he must already be married or have a lover, though he was openly flirtatious. You knew he’d had a few girls in town on occasion, having overheard them bragging about their nights with him, though they all seemed to be one-night trysts or affairs that didn’t last long. Perhaps he wasn’t even interested in settling down with anyone and was the playboy type. He was gorgeous enough for it.

Once or twice, he came to town with his family members or to visit family members who had settled here, like his brother Cetzu, the lizardfolk man running the orphanage with his wife. They were all a strange lot: some were human, most were not. You only ever saw one other centaur, and he looked nothing like Birch; he was a younger, smaller piebald named Yew with black skin, white hair, and pale eyes. You’d heard rumors that there was a mixed family in the woods, living on a farm, and that they were all sorts, but it didn’t really seem real to you until you saw them all together.

He’d come to town one day to buy seeds and supplies and came into the tavern for a drink. For centaurs, alcohol was basically food to them, so they drank heavily and often. A lot of centaurs you’d known got pretty rowdy, but Birch was always mindful. He held his ale well and knew when to stop before getting fully inebriated, careful not to make an ass of himself. He was considerate. You liked that about him.

You were working in the kitchens at the time when he arrived, and he sat at one of the tables designed for four-legged folk. It was a long table with no chairs or benches, but flat cushions instead. He folded his legs under him and flagged the waitress, smiling his dazzling smile, and ordered ale and some roasted vegetables. You were neglecting your work, but even if it was just a few seconds, you wanted to commit his image to memory as often as you could.

“Oi!” The waitress, Cathy, hissed as she came toward the door of the kitchen to put in Birch’s order. “What are you doing?!”

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” You said, barely audibly.

“Go take him his ale,” She said. “We’re understaffed. If you’re going to be in the way, the least you can do is be useful.”

“I…!" You protested, but she pushed past you into the kitchen to yell at the cook. With you heart in your throat, you rushed to fill a clean tankard and skittered it over, setting it down on the table in front of him without looking at him.

“Ah, that was fast,” Birch said, his voice deep, rich, and wonderful to the ear. “You’re a lovely little thing. Are you new, sweet pea? I haven’t seen you in the tavern before.”

You looked down at the ground and didn’t answer. You weren’t sure what to do, whether to stay and try to be friendly, or retreat back to the kitchen, so you were frozen there with indecision, looking at the floor.

“Hey now, don’t be shy, love. I don’t bite,” He said, you assumed in an attempt to be flirty, reaching for your hand. You snatched your hand away impulsively and ran back to the kitchen.

Your heart was racing and your mind reeling. Why did I do that? You thought, covering your face with your hands. He probably thinks I’m crazy or a complete shrew! I should never leave the back rooms again and just stick to washing dishes.

After a few moments, though, your mother pulled you away from washing by the arm.

“What did you do?” She asked angrily. “One of the customers is asking for you!”

You panicked. “I… I just… I brought him his drink…” You whispered in terror.

“Come on,” She gripped your arm and pulled you back out into the tavern common room, where Birch was still sitting. He looked at you with a frown. Oh god, he looks annoyed, you thought nervously.

“Miss,” He said, and you stared at your feet, unable to look up. “I think I may have frightened or upset you. I’m sorry, I sometimes forget that not everyone is receptive to my personality or sense of humor.”

You were completely unable to speak and kept your head down, your shoulders hunched.

“Say something!” Your mother hissed at you, and you could only shrink into yourself further. “I’m sorry, sir,” Your mother said in exasperation. “My daughter is as timid as a field mouse. She can’t speak to other people and she never looks people in the eye. She can barely even speak to me. She’s always been like this.”

“Oh,” He said, sounding concerned. “Is she unwell?”

“Probably,” Your mother replied in annoyance, and you pulled away even further. “Though the doctors can’t tell us what’s wrong with her. She usually stays in the kitchen and laundry away from the customers. I don’t know what possessed her to come out here and bother you.”

“C… Ca…” You stuttered, struggling to speak in your defense, looking back toward the kitchen, where Cathy was hovering by the door.

“Oh, did Cathy ask you to bring me my drink?” He asked kindly.

You nodded fervently.

“I understand. I’m sorry that she put you in an uncomfortable situation, and I apologize for making it worse.”

Your mother sighed wearily. “Sir, don’t apologize to her. It’s not your fault that she can’t function like a normal adult.”

That hurt. You were on the verge of tears and hugged your arms around yourself, desperately wanting to escape back to the kitchen.

“Even so,” He said, his voice cold, but softened when he addressed you. “I’m very sorry, miss.”

You nodded once and shuffled quickly back to the kitchen, unable to keep the tears from falling. Your mother rejoined you a few minutes later.

“You could have at least apologized to him,” He said, taking the plates as you washed them to rinse them off and put them in the rack. “Why do you have to embarrass me like that? How hard is it to say ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m sorry’?” She sighed sharply and wiped her hands. “Don’t you dare get us fired.” And she walked off, leaving you weeping into the dishwater.

Cathy heard the entire thing and came over sheepishly.

“Hey… I’m sorry I got you in trouble with your ma,” She said. “I forgot about the speaking thing. I was just in a rush and I didn’t think.”

You shook your head. Cathy was the one person who you might call a friend. She was a little brusque and had a short fuse, but she was one of the few who didn’t make fun of your stuttering and silence or look down their nose at you.

“Listen, Birch is a really nice guy. He plays around and has his fun with the girls, but he’s never hurt anyone on purpose. He wasn’t trying to make fun of you or make you feel bad.”

You nodded shortly. You knew that. He was being friendly; that’s just how he talked to people. But being humiliated in front of him was a torture unlike anything you’d felt before, and it hurt.

The next day, you were feeding the chickens in the coop outside of the tavern when you looked up and saw him exiting the tavern. He noticed you right away, and you turned immediately and tried to flee.

“Hey, wait!” He called. “Wait, please!”

You stood with your back to him but you stayed put. You heard him trotting up to you, his hoof-beats heavy.

“Hey, listen, I wanted to apologize again,” He said. “To just you this time. I don’t know what your mother’s problem is, but what she said… that was uncalled for. You didn’t deserve that.”

You turned to face him but you didn’t look up, focusing instead on his large hooves. You shook your head. No, he was wrong. You did deserve it.

“You can’t help how you are,” He said. “It’s not your fault. I have a little brother who has trouble talking to people, too. It’s the exact opposite of your problem; he says exactly what’s on his mind with no filter. He can’t control it and it embarrasses him sometimes. It’s not the same, I know, but I understand that it can be hard.”

He was so nice. You were able to lift your head a little, but you still couldn’t look him in the face.

“My name is Birch,” He said. “What’s yours?”

You opened your mouth but nothing came out, so you shut it again.

“Hmm,” He hummed. “Can you write?”

You shook your head.

“Um… sign language?”

You answered no again.

“I see,” He said, sighing. “I… I’ll be honest… I don’t want to leave you here with that mother of yours. I’m not sure what kind of relationship you have with her, but the way she talks to you…” He pawed the ground in annoyance. “It bothers me. Does she do that a lot? Make fun of you in front of other people?”

You shrugged, embarrassed.

He sidestepped in an anxious way and swished his tail. “I have to go back home later today,” He said. “Are… are you going to be okay?”

You nodded.

“Are you sure?”

Another nod.

“Well… alright,” He said. “Look, um… if you ever need to… you know… leave this place, talk to Cathy. She knows where my family’s farm is. She can help you get there. If you need to.”

You nodded again, and he turned to leave, but an unfamiliar impulse compelled you to rush forward and take hold of the hem of his tunic. He stopped and looked at you, though he could only see the top of your head.

“Th…” You gulped, your throat dry, your heart beating in your throat. “Tha… ank…you…” You managed to choke out. “H… Haz…zel…”

“You’re name is Hazel?” He asked, a smile in his voice.

You nodded emphatically.

You felt him put a hand on top of your head and and sort of rubbed his fingers against your scalp. It felt nice, even though you weren’t used to physical touch. Your mother wasn’t exactly the affectionate sort.

“You take care, okay?” He said, taking his hand back. “I’ll be back in a few days. I look forward to seeing you again.”

That evening, you were in the room you shared with your mother as she brushed her hair for bed when she mentioned nonchalantly, “I saw you with that centaur man today. What did he say to you?”

“...he… nothing…” You said vaguely.

“Then why did he touch you? And why were you touching him?” She asked, her voice flat.

“I…” You gulped. “I… don’t know…” You said truthfully.

“Oh, really? You don’t know? You don’t know why a man like him would touch you? You know his reputation in this town. He’s trying to take advantage of you because you're simple.”

“He was… just… being nice…” You said softly.

Your mother snorted. “Men aren’t nice without a reason. I thought you’d know that by now.” She threw down her hairbrush onto the night table and lay down in your shared bed. “You’re not going to have anything to do with him from now on, do you understand? It shouldn’t be difficult for you to manage that, should it?”

You didn’t say anything, just sat at the table and stared into the fire.

“It’s for your own good,” She said, facing away from you. “I know I’m strict with you, but… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

You have no problem with me getting hurt when you’re the one doing it, you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t say it. You knew she was right, though. He was a flirt and a bit of a libertine, and you thought that perhaps he was only being nice to you because he saw you as low hanging fruit. It hurt to think of him that way, but it was the only thing that made sense.

He did return in a few days, an older woman riding on his back. She was lovely, even at her age, and was wearing trousers and a practical shirt, but no bodice or ladies coat. Her brown hair was caught back in a tight braid, a few strands of grey weaved in and out.

You saw them arrive from the window of your room as you were getting ready for the day. He was as handsome as always, and you watched him wistfully. As if he could sense you, he looked up and saw you at the window. He smiled at you and waved. Remembering what your mother said, you were unable to smile back and walked away from the window without acknowledging him. You hoped he wouldn’t be too angry at you.

Before you could start work in the laundry, Cathy called you out.

“Birch and his mother are here,�� She said, keeping her voice down so that your mother wouldn’t hear. “They want to see you.”

“I cant…” You said in your normal whisper. “Mama will be angry…”

“Don’t worry about your ma right now,” Cathy said dismissively. “You don’t deserve the shit she gives you, you’re just too shy to tell her off. Just go see what they want. Maybe it’s a chance to get out from under her thumb.”

You had to admit, you did wish for that. You loved your mother, and she loved you in her own way, but you knew she resented you and it was just… exhausting, dealing with her reproachfulness and cutting words every day. You were just too scared to leave on your own.

You thought long and hard about it, looking around to see if your mother was anywhere near. When you didn’t see her, you looked up at Cathy, looking just past her behind her ear instead of at her face, and nodded. She took you by the hand and led you out to the dining area. Birch and his mother were sitting at the four-legged table, with his mother having dragged over a chair to sit with him comfortably.

“Oh, good, there you are,” Birch said. “When you didn’t react this morning, I was worried something had happened. Mama, this is the young woman I was telling you about.”

He told his mother about you? Why?

“I see, I see,” The older woman said. “My name is Ryel, I’m Birch’s mother. Your name is Hazel, right?”

You nodded, unable to look up.

“Goodness, you are rather shy, aren’t you, dear?” She said sympathetically. You chewed your lip, unable to respond. “My son tells me you’re illiterate, is that correct?”

You nodded.

“I imagine that makes communicating with other people very difficult,” She said.

You nodded again.

“So, how about this?” She said, leaning forward. “Why don’t you come to the farm with me for the summer? I’ll teach you how to read and write, and in exchange, you help me out around the farm. How does that sound?”

For the first time in your life, you were surprised into looking someone in the face. She was smiling warmly at you

“I’m getting older and I could use an assistant. My children all have their own work and families to look after and I’d feel as if I were taking advantage of them if I expected them to follow me around and help me all day.”

“Mama, you know we’d do it happily,” Birch said.

“I know that,” She said, hushing him. “Even still, I’d prefer to hire someone for the task, and if I can help them at the same time, why shouldn’t I?” She leaned forward. “What do you say, dear?”

This is exactly what you wanted. A job that was away from your mom. This was your chance. You opened your mouth, as if to answer, when you heard a sharp voice behind you.

“Hazel!” Your mother said, irate, and stalked out of the kitchen toward you, grabbing you by the arm. “Stop bothering these people! Get back to the laundry.”

Birch’s back leg kicked slightly in irritation, thumping the wood of the floor, but Ryel kept her composure.

“She’s not bothering us in the least, madam,” She said calmly. “I’ve actually come here to offer her a job.”

Your mother scoffed. “A job? Doing what?”

“As my assistant,” Ryel said. “I’m a jack of all trades type, you might say, and I’m willing to take her on in exchange for room and board, plus an education.”

“You’re wasting your time,” Your mother said, her grip rather strong on your arm. “My daughter is not capable of making her own decisions.”

“How old is your daughter?” Ryel asked.

“She’s nineteen,” Your mother replied. “But I’m afraid she’s a bit slow. Trying to teach her wouldn’t benefit either of you.”

You frowned, upset. That wasn’t true, you weren’t slow. In fact, you thought you learned rather quickly, you’d just hadn’t had the chance to learn very many new things.

“Be that as it may,” Ryel replied, her voice still even. “Your daughter is an adult and has the right to choose what she wants.”

“Nonsense,” Your mother said. “Besides, even if I allowed this, I don’t want her anywhere near him.” She jerked her chin toward Birch.

Birch bristled. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know what kind of man you are,” She hissed. “How many lovers you’ve had in just this town alone? How many broken hearts have you left in your wake? I know you have ulterior motives for wanting to take her from here, and I won’t stand for it. She’s simpleminded and vulnerable, and I won’t let you dishonor her and return her to me used and broken.”

“Stop talking like she can’t hear every vile thing you say about her!” Birch shouted, slamming his fist into the table, making you jump. “I would never do something so shameful! You don’t know anything about me! ”

“Son, calm down,” Ryel said, putting her hand on his. “My son is a grown man of twenty-eight and has desires, true, but I’ve been to this town quite often and I haven’t found any such string of broken hearts, as you call it. Many sighing and wistful girls who long for his company, sure, but not one of them has come to me with tears in her eyes claiming he lied or misled her. He’s open and forthright about his intentions, and I respect his decisions. You should do the same for your child.”

“Don’t talk to me about my child if you can’t even control your own,” Your mother said venomously. “Hazel, let’s go.”

She tried to lead you away, but you refused to move. There were hurt and anxious tears in your eyes and you couldn’t look at anyone, but you refused to let her pull you away.

“Hazel!” She gripped your arm and yanked you painfully, and you wrenched your arm from her grasp, shaking your head.

“It seems like she’s made her choice,” Ryel said. “The least you can do as her mother is respect her wishes.”

“Be quiet!” Your mother said. “Leave us alone!” She grabbed your hands and started to pull you back to the kitchen. Birch got to his feet.

“Let her go,” He said, his voice a low growl, knocking her hands away from you. He stood between you and your mother. You dared to reach out and place a hand on the fur of his back to steady yourself.

“What’s going on here?” The bartender, Brian, asked. He also owned the tavern and knew about your condition. He didn’t speak to you much, but he also didn’t tease you either. You could handle understanding silence a lot better than persistent expectation to interact. “Are you alright, Hazel?”

You were shaking and crying, so you could only shake your head.

“These people won’t leave us alone,” You mother said. “I’d like them to leave.”

“Now, Rita, these people are good customers and friends of mine. I’m going to need more of a reason than ‘they’re bothering me’ to kick them out.”

“We simply offered young Hazel here a job on the farm,” Ryel said patiently. “I’m afraid her mother is interfering with her decision.”

“Is that true, Hazel?” Brian asked. “Would you like to take up this job?”

Trembling, you nodded.

“Well, then, that settles it, doesn’t it?” Brian said. “These are good folks, Hazel, they’ll take care of you.”

“Like hell they will,” You mother retorted. “She can’t make decisions like this. She doesn't understand.”

Brian sighed. “Rita, your girl’s not stupid, and it’s high time you stopped treating her like she is.”

Your mother looked like she’d been slapped in the face. You looked up at Brian in shock. He smiled kindly at you.

“Why don’t you go up and pack your things while your mother and I have a little chat, eh, dear?” He said.

You attempted to smile at him, though you worried it looked a little like you had indigestion, and went to pack. You took a few minutes to sit on the bed and breathe, clutching your chest, feeling a panic attack poking at your brain. You couldn’t believe it. You were really leaving.

There was a knock on your door and Ryel poked her head in.

“Are you alright, dear? That was quite the fuss,” She said.

You dried your face and nodded, getting up to start putting clothes in a bag.

“I sent Birch outside. He was getting rather angry, and I didn’t want him smashing any of Brian’s furniture.”

You looked out the window. Birch was standing in the courtyard with his arms crossed, stamping the ground and stepping constantly, as if he couldn’t stand still. His brow was furrowed, his jaw was working, and his tail was swishing back and forth without stopping.

“He’s worried for you, dear,” She said, following your gaze. “One thing our entire family has in common is that we don’t like seeing people mistreated. You’re mother may have her reasons for acting as she does, and perhaps it is out of some misplaced notion of love, but there’s no doubt in my mind at all that she mistreats you. You can’t help the way you are, and no amount of her cruel words are going to fix that. In fact, I’m more than certain it makes it worse.”

You sighed sadly in agreement. As you stood there, Birch looked up at your window. He smiled, a little sadder than before, and waved up at you. This time, you raised a hand and waved back.

The door opened and your mother walked in, glaring at Ryel.

“I’d like to speak to my daughter alone, if you please,” She said, her voice low and hostile.

Ryel looked at you questioningly, and you nodded. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” She said, and walked out, closing the door behind her.

Your mother just stared at you with her arms crossed, shaking her head slightly. You looked down and away.

“I guess I should just be glad you won’t be around to humiliate me anymore,” She said, and you shrunk in on yourself. “I don’t like this at all, but it seems I have no say in the matter. You made sure of that, didn’t you?”

You knew she was hurt and was lashing out. She wasn’t exactly sweet and caring on her best days, but she could really cut a person to the quick when she was upset.

“Don’t you have anything to say?” She asked you, and you could hear tears in her voice. “Nothing at all? You can’t muster the courage to apologize to me for that display downstairs? For leaving me without a thought to my feelings? I’ve spent the last seven years protecting you and providing for you after your useless father threw us out, and you do this to me? And you have nothing to say?”

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you walked up to her and put your arms around her waist and lay your head on her shoulder.

“I’ll miss you, Mama,” You said softly.

She started to sob and put her arms around your shoulders. It had been years since she’d last hugged you.

“You’d better start sending me letters as soon as you learn how to,” She said, her voice breaking. “If I don’t hear something from you in a few months, I’m going out there to drag you back, you understand me?”

“Yes, Mama,” You whispered, and took a step back. Picking up your bag, you opened the door and walked out. Ryel was waiting and smiled when she saw you.

“Ready?” She asked.

You nodded.

Back outside, Birch was waiting. He stopped shifting around anxiously when he saw you and his mother exit the tavern.

“Everything okay?” He asked.

“Everything’s just fine,” Ryel said. “We’re ready to go.”

“Would you like to ride on my back?” Birch asked, turning.

You shook your head fervently, mortified.

“Are you sure?” He said. “It’s a long walk back to the farm, over four hours. I can get us there in half the time.”

“She’s feeling shy,” Ryel said. “For centaurs, letting people ride on their back is a special privilege afforded to few. I’ll ride with you.” She grinned at him. “He always makes an exception for his mother.”

He grinned at her in return. “You just assume I do.” But he took out a quilted riding blanket that was rolled up and tied to the bottom of his pack and handed it to her, and she set it on his back. Climbing the steps to the tavern, she vaulted onto his back. She instructed you to do the same. Blushing furiously, with both Ryel and Birch’s help, you were able to scramble on in front of her.

“Let’s go,” He said, and he took off at a trot out of town.

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[iamdeku]

Positions: Prohero!Deku x Reader

I’ve been working on this little drabble for a while, haha. I just wanted to write something really cute and domestic. I hope you guys like this!

Warnings: nudity (non-sexual), mentions of kids/pregnancy

Dating a pro-hero could be taxing, to say the least. That was what everyone had told you when you and Izuku had first gotten together. They had warned you of the unpredictable hours, the nightmares, the trauma. They had said he would be physically unavailable at best, emotionally unavailable at worst. You had ignored all of that, though, and every day you were glad you did.

Dating Izuku had never been anything but a joy, a privilege even. He was one of the kindest souls you had ever met. His work only seemed to strengthen that side of him, accenting his willingness to help others, always with a smile on his face. He never made you feel second best to anything or anyone. In fact, you often felt like he did more for you than you did for him, which was what brought you here.

You’re pulling out all the stops tonight, spinning around your kitchen in your pretty pink over the knee socks that always made you glide across the floor, one of Izuku’s baby blue hoodies tossed over your head and falling far enough to be a dress, negating any need for pants. You had chicken katsu going on the stove, and you were making some tea to go with it. In the other room, you had made the bed with freshly washed sheets, still a little warm from the dryer, and an array of bath salts and bubble baths set up for selection.

Your entire body tenses when you hear the jangle of the keys in the lock, rising up onto your tiptoes in your excitement. You slip at least twice as you dash for the door and the man on his way through it, and you should have bit the dust once except for the arms wrapping around you now.

“Baby, you’re slipping all over the place. You know you can’t run in these.” His laughter hits your ear warm and sweet, body close from the way he’s holding you up. “What’s got you in such a hurry? We have all night.”

You pull back to look at him, smile spreading across your face. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You hold his face between your hands, used to how fragile they looked compared to his broad strength. You brush your thumb across his cheekbone, where a bruise is painted, red at the center but blossoming out to a deep purple, nearly black. You lean forward and press a gentle kiss to it.

“You work too hard.” You sigh, letting your eyes close and lashes flutter over his stained skin. “Do you want dinner or a bath first?”

“Whatever you want.” The answer is immediate, instinctive.

You had seen this coming. You had prepared for it, in fact.

“Nope. Tonight is about you. That’s what I want, and I’m not letting you argue with me. C’mon, we should get you changed out of your costume.”

He lets you drag him back to the bedroom, hands laced together with his. Slowly, you peel him out of his hero costume, the movements routine and your hands gentle as you unveil new bruises. Most of the blood and gunk on him seems to be from other people, hopefully the villains, but you don’t ask. He’ll tell you if he wants to, and he does when he sees the way you pause on a patch of his uniform stuck to his skin from dried blood.

“It was a good night,” he reassures you. “We got them, and everybody is okay.”

“Good.” You nod. “You hungry?”

He smiles down at you. You’ve gently pushed him back onto the bed now that you’ve gotten the top half of his suit off, your navy blue sheets contrasting the green of his hair as he lays back to stretch while you finish undressing him.

“Yeah. It smells good. Chicken katsu?” He leans forward, resting his cheek in his palm.

“Yeah.” You pull his boots off his feet, then shuck of the rest of the costume.

You stand up, knees flushed from the coldness of the hardwood floor, already reaching for his favorite pair of sweats and an old, soft All Might shirt. You let him dress himself as you take his costume to the laundry room, although the damage done to it is likely beyond you. Straight to support team, then.

When you turn to leave the room, his body is stretched across the doorframe, filling it up. You take a moment to let yourself be breathless at the sight of him. It’s not that you forget how beautiful he is, but more that nothing could possibly prepare you for the sight of him, especially not just casually out of nowhere like this. 

“Dinner?” He asks.

“Thought you might want that before a bath.” 

That was a lie. You knew he would want dinner before a bath when you heard his stomach growl about 5 minutes after he walked in the door. Not that he would admit to that, silly boy.

You move to walk past him into the kitchen, but he catches you around the waist, nose skimming across the skin of your neck as he leans forward. He looks you up and down, bright green eyes soaking you up.

“You look so pretty,” he mumbles.

Your breath catches in your throat at his words, leaning into his touch. He brushes his lips against your jaw, just beneath your ear.

“My pretty girl.” He pulls you flush against him, pushing a strand of your hair back. “Gonna drive me crazy.”

“I know what you’re doing,” you breathe, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Oh? What am I doing?”

He plays innocent, but you see the look in his eyes.

“You’re trying to distract me from taking care of you. Not going to happen, pretty boy.”

You slip out of his embrace, throwing a teasing glance his way over your shoulder as you head towards the kitchen, swaying your hips perhaps a little more than was strictly necessary.

“Maybe I just think you look really good in my clothes,” he suggests, following you. “Hard to resist.”

You hum mindlessly, a grin playing on your lips as you reach up into the cabinets to pull out an All Might themed bowl for him and a more traditional choice for yourself. You put rice in both of the bowls, doubling the portions for him, and serve the chicken.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.” Izuku grows more serious from where he sits at your kitchen table, his chair scuffed and comfortable with age, face lit up and golden in the warmth of your kitchen.

“Well, somebody has to feed my big strong hero, and it better not be any other girl,” you respond lightheartedly.

“Wouldn’t want any other girl. Not when I have the best one in the world right here.”

You can’t help but blush as you start in on the food. Deku eats like a starving man, and he has for as long as you’ve known him, except when he’s upset. It gives you almost no time to admire him as you try to keep up, but you still try to get as much of him as you can, always afraid that he’s too good to be true. Worried of the moment he’ll disappear on you.

“I can feel you watching.” He says when he’s finished.

You just roll your eyes, still eating despite your best efforts. He’s called you out on it a million times before. You stopped being embarrassed a long time ago.

You two sit in silence until you finish, but it’s comfortable, the sort of silence that settles down when one of you is tired and the other is pleasantly content, or when maybe you’re both a little bit of each. He speaks up when you take the dishes to place them in the sink.

“You know, you would make a good Mom.” His eyes are glazed over in thought, obviously somewhere else.

“You think so?” You asked quietly, frozen at the kitchen sink.

“Yeah. We would have pretty babies too,” he muses.

“Yeah?” You turn around, leaning your back against the sink.

“Uh huh. Can see it now.” A distant smile pulls the corners of his mouth up. “Our little babies calling you Mommy.”

You cross the kitchen table, settling down into his lap. Your arms loop effortlessly over his broad shoulders, so used to the motion.

“Tell me about it,” you say.

“Wanna buy you a house,” he says, burying his face in the crook of your neck in the way he always does when he’s tired down to his bones. “And a ring. A ring as pretty as you are. I want to have so many babies with you. Have all these kids running around the house, and I want them to all look just as pretty as their Mommy.”

“That sounds perfect.” You run your fingers through his soft curls, body intertwined so closely with his you feel his lashes against your shoulder when he blinks sharply.

“Did you say something about a bath earlier, or did I imagine that?” He asks, voice confused with his exhaustion.

You giggle. “I did actually mention a bath.”

“That sounds nice.” 

He stands, picking you up even now, as tired as he is.

“Izuku!” You squeal. “Put me down!”

“Nope, sorry princess. We’re gonna go take a bath.”

He’s all business as he carries you to the bathroom, plopping you down on the edge of the tub. You beat him to the faucet though, determined to keep your hold on the night and keep taking care of him.

“What bath salts do you want?”

He sits down on the floor beside you, back leaning against the tub and cheek pressed to your thigh as he sighs deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

“Whatever you use. Wanna smell like you. You smell good.”

You follow his instructions, setting the bath up with all of your favorites as he peppers the outside of your thigh with kisses. Your hands never shake, the movements practiced from all the years you’ve spent making baths for yourself and later, yourself and Izuku. When you’re finished, you both slide into the bathtub.

You take your time, washing his hair gently. You’re just as careful with the washcloth, paying attention to every part of his body, making sure not to miss a speck of blood or a smudge of dirt. You’re dedicated to your work and unconcerned with your own cleanliness, though you do briefly wash up so you don’t get the sheets dirty.

You wrap him and yourself up in towels when you get out, the darkened water swirling down your drain.

“Somebody was messy today.”

“Sorry.” Izuku blushes, knowing you’ll have to clean the tub later.

“Don’t be. I’m proud of you. You work so hard to keep people safe.”

He smiles at you, and you can see in his eyes he’s woozy from tiredness. You pull him forward into you, holding him in your arms even as you drag him back into bed with you. He manages to crawl into his sweats before crawling under the covers, and you don’t bother to do anything but pop his sweater back on.

He rolls into you, already half asleep but still wrapping you up in his arms. “I meant all of that earlier, you know?”

“Hmm?” you ask, confused.

“I really do want to have a family with you. A home.” He presses a tired kiss to your temple.

“I know. I want that too, ‘Zuku,” you mumble, his tiredness contagious.

“I love you.” He wraps you up tighter if that’s at all possible. “To the moon. And to Saturn. And Pluto.”

You giggle a little, eyelids falling closed. “Love you too. To the moon and to Saturn and to Pluto.”

[ateezinmymind]

Finding out their s/o is pregnant

Ateez x reader

fluff ~yeo lowkey angst

thank you so much for the request @sonnnflower 💓sorry for the waitt!! <3

Hongjoong:

You would be a little nervous telling him at first Doubting yourself, scared that he wouldn’t be happy due to how busy he is

But when he came home and felt your uneasy aura,, he knew something was up. “Love? Are you okay?”Trying to put on your best smile, you just give a “yep” and change the topic. Doing your best to seem as calm as possible, while talking about his time at work

Your nerves would be over controlling to the point where you started to shutter “Joong, I need to show you something”,,Walking in the bathroom where your pregnancy test was, you turn around to show him, and lock eyes “I-I’m pregnant..”

His face would go blank from hearing the news,,Like he would be full on shookkk :O

From the look on his face you started to doubt telling him-“Are you mad?”. Realizing he hasn’t said anything because he was lost in his imagination he quickly reassures you“Noo—baby? No, why would I be mad at you?”

Then tears would start coming,, “I-it’s just that y-you’re busy, and I know t-that you have a lot of things to worry about...and I don’t want you to have another thing to stress over-“ But seeing the biggest smile spread across his face, he softly comforts, “my life at work will never interfere with my life at home, okay? I could never be mad at something so beautiful as this-“

Looking down to your stomach he’d softly place his hand there. “I just can’t believe that we’re finally starting our family”

Seonghwa:

You were sitting on the floor of the bathroom The test in hand, showing you the positive results-you’ve been wondering if you were pregnant for a couple weeks now..You’ve noticed the changes in your body, and you just needed to make sure

A thousand thoughts went through your mind, but when you heard the front door open you quickly got up off the floor and put the pregnancy test in the trash

Greeting Seonghwa with a kiss, he’s first to say, “Dinner ideas y/n? Any cravings? Your wish..my command” The way he treats you like your his treasure, makes you think about what a great dad he’ll be, and while your request moved to the kitchen to be cooked, you tidy up and think about how to tell hwa

Dinner being made and served by your favorite person,, you thank him “Seonghwa thank you, there’s so much you do for me, even after your day at work you come home to take care of me” Pausing for a moment and taking a deep breath,, “there’s some news I need to tell you-“

“You’re pregnant-“

“How do you-“

“Love, do you think I haven’t noticed the times where you get out of bed to throw up in the morning? Do you think I haven’t noticed how you ask me to get the weirdest foods for you? And babe I’m not blind, I’ve seen that cute little bump you have-” Getting up from his chair, Seonghwa walks over and kneels in-front of you, and grabs your hands “I know you y/n, you’re the love of my life. I notice things, and this..well this has made me want to make sure I take care and am there for you even more,,”

Placing your hands on top of his, which are placed on your stomach he quips “You’re going to be the most wonderful mother to our child, and quite frankly..the hottest” *wink wonk*

Yunho:

You’ve talked about having kids in the future with Yunho,, but you never made an official decision

Until now

He knew you haven’t been feeling well lately,, so he wanted to make sure you had a happy day together You two would spend the day raiding stores, buying too much food, and of course laughing

It was when you went through an aisle that had pregnancy tests, and it made the realization spark,,that you might be pregnant. Grabbing two, you caught up to Yunho and tapped his shoulder-“I kind of want to try it and see??” He immediately smiles at the fact you’re going to do a pregnancy test, and the fact that there’s a possibility of you being pregnant..

Later that day you decided to do the tests-both of them..coming back positive-Mind immediately going to Yunho.. oh how he’s going to be so happy-“yuyu?..” peeking your head out the bathroom seeing him on the bed playing with his feet while waiting “Oh oh y/n,,tell mee tell mee!!” Trying to hide your smile behind the door, you think about playing a little trick with him,

“baby, I’m sorry I guess I just have a stomach bug..it came out negative-“ and from the moment those words came out of your mouth, you deeply regretted it. The sadness washing over his features and the small ‘aw’ that came out of him made you burst out the bathroom and into his arms

“I’M PREGNANT!! Babyyy I’m sorry I was just wanting to see your reaction..I-I I’m pregnant..”Hugging him- you hear a sniffle,,quickly looking up and holding his face. Tears gliding down his cheeks causes you to tear up “Y-y/n, I cant believe this“ —thinking he was mad you start apologizing..

“IM GOING TO BE A DAD!!”

Yeosang:

You knew that you were pregnant,,it’s just that Yeosang didn’t-it wasn’t that you were hiding it, but just because you didn’t know how he was going to react

You two rarely mentioned having kids, frankly you thought he wasn’t fond of the idea, so you tried to keep the topic out of subject—But tonight when you two were sitting on the couch together, eating sweets. Him on his phone, and you staring off at the wall-shoving food in your mouth

“You know I have something I need to tell you...I don’t know how your going to react,but please hear me out-“ lifting his head up attention now on you, “I haven’t told you this yet because I’m scared, but..” looking straight at him, then moving your gaze away from nervousness-“I’m pregnant Yeosang”

Not hearing a words come out of his mouth you start rambling,,”I just don’t know what we’re going to do. I don’t know what is gonna happen..I-“ head turning, your faced with a frozen Yeosang...

Trying to get his attention back, shaking him lightly, patting his cheeks, you give up. Not knowing what he’s thinking right now, why he won’t answer-tears slide down your cheeks, sniffling grabbing another piece of food and shoving it in your mouth you just sit there

“Wait, how long have you kept this from me?”—snapping your head towards him, teary face, and chewing food, “probably a month now..” Yeosang then stands up and throws his phone on the couch. “Come here.” gesturing his hands towards him, you get up yourself—then immediately brought into a kiss

Wrapping his arms around your waist and giving a very light squeeze, he pushes his head in your neck.. ”babe, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me...I want to do this with you so bad—I want to be there for you so bad. Please let me”

Giving out an apology,, he’s quick to jump and look you in the eyes while holding your stomach—“I would’ve gotten CHICKEN!! ahhhhh we can’t have our baby not taking after his daddyyy~”

San:

It was when you woke him up getting out of bed to throw up.. San quickly following after you-one hand holding your hair, the other caressing your sides

always being there for you, wanting to do everything he can to take care of his baby he tries so hard to give you the best comfort—”love , are you okay?? did you eat something bad?”

Ever since that morning, he definitely noticed the more mornings to come..by the third time this happened he’s the one that suggested it-“Y/n, love,, do you have any ideas of why you’ve been sick?”

You’d honestly be oblivious, but San-is obsessed with you and probably knows everything about you before you actually do..yaknow because you’re his babygirl

So when you kept saying you’re confused on why you haven’t been feeling well—San just straight up tells you, “You might be pregnant-“

And then you tense up and realize..OMG PREGNANT-but seeing the smile and the cutest dimples on his happy face,,you know there’ll be no regrets

“Oh..wow, well should we buy a test? To uh make sure-“ he’d give you a fast ‘got it!’ And rushed out the door like a mad man

Coming back with more tests you needed, he couldn’t wait..”y/n, if these don’t come back positive..I’m going to have to take you to the bed—“

“Because I can’t stop thinking about this now,, I really hope you’re pregnant” then ushering you to the bathroom he kisses your nose and closes the door “I love you”

When you came back out with positive results,, you got a high pitched scream, and a grown man running around in joy..

your beautiful journey together only starting..

Mingi:

When you missed your period, you didn’t want to think of what was going to happen—the both of you were cuddling next to each other when you went down the rabbit hole that started from listening to Mingi’s heartbeat, to thinking about snacks, then a little more down to the realization that you haven’t had your period

He nudged his head into the crook of your neck,, a satisfactory sigh leaving his mouth-“I love you so much babe...” awww mingi is my baby, my cute—BABY...your heart beating faster, “I love you too b-baby—“ then hoisting yourself up to hold his hand

“So I just realized I haven’t had my period,, and I know you remember that n-night because..who wouldn’t,” rambling on about him his eyes go wide. “Wait y/n, you’re saying that-“

“I don’t know,, it’s a possibility and I don’t want to risk not knowing for sure” so that’s when the both of you-hand in hand-walk into the store to get your needed supplies. And that’s how now Mingi-on the other side of the bathroom door is humming a little tune waiting

Calling him in, he asks if everything’s alright when he sees you on the floor- “y-yeah..it’s just. I’m pregnant”

:O

Mingi then starts giggling, “y/n you know I always thought I was going to be the baby—TURNS OUT WERE HAVING A BABY?!”

He’d pick you off the floor and take you back to bed and cuddle you so more,, “we should name it monkey after her mommy~” bursting into laughter, the only thing that could be heard was you slapping Mingis leg..then a following “OWWWWEE Y/N IT WAS A JOKE!!”

Wooyoung:

When you asked for some ice and chocolate Woo literally thought you were on cocaine,, “I’m sorry? You said what?” He needed to hear you again-“I want some ice and chocolate! Oh and now that I’m thinking about it,, how about some chips too”

He literally just stood there in confusion-“well go on!” Hearing your demand he ran to get your cravings. Before he came back out to you, still trying to figure out what’s wrong with you—he brings out his phone and types. ‘why is my wife/gf craving ice and chocolate’

When a thing for pregnancy cravings came up he quickly brought the food back to you,,not wanting to keep you waiting any longer-

“How long have you been wanting these weird cravings??” Trying to watch your show, you tell him ‘not for long’..”well the internet said that weird cravings could be because of pregnancy-COULD THAT BE A REASON?!”

You haven’t really thought about why you’re feeling the way you have been, honestly you just thought your body was changing because of weight gain..but hearing pregnancy come up you’re like-DUH

Wooyoung brings up going to the doctor,,and you agree-because you want him to be quiet about this so you can go back to watching

-sitting in the waiting room, currently talking about the pattern on the floor and the interesting choice of wall art. You two are interrupted by the doctor calling you back in..sitting on the chair he starts, “congratulations you two are parents..”

On your way home WOOYOUNG WOULD NOT SHUT UP saying ‘I told you’ and ‘always trust the internet’. But when you sat on the couch he came in right beside you, and held your stomach,,

“I really can’t believe this is going to happen, but I’m for sure happy I’m here for you” KISSES AND SCREAMING LAUGHTER followed as he tickles your legs

Jongho:

You mentioned feeling odd, when talking to your mom. She thought nothing of it, but when you kept coming to her...she gave you advice you weren’t ready to hear

“Hey y/n-baby, what’s going on?”

“You know how I haven’t been feeling good? Well, I’ve been talking to my mom about it-“ taking a deep breathe and covering your face, “a-and she says I might be pregnant..”

You feel the bed dip in from his weight, Jongho crawling up to your frame. He gives you a kiss on your stomach, then holding your hand-“wait-really? What do you think about that?”

“I don’t know what to think, I mean I’m happy it’s with you, but I’m scared..and I-I don’t know” irrupting you with a kiss “don’t be scared, I know this is new-but I’m never going to leave you, and I’m hear for you always..”

Later when you two confirmed with a test, you spent the whole day snuggling, “I can’t wait to tell my mom hehe-“ giggling Jongho says happily. “You’re going to give birth to a little apple..and we’re going to be the most powerful-“

“Jongho,, stop..it’s a baby—not your little play toy” but he only snuggles in closer, “we’ll see y/n, we’ll see..”

[feferipeixes]

Child I Will Hurt You

One of the weirdest things to Alcor about being a father was how automatically Toby trusted him.

Which really freaked him out because he didn’t feel he should be trusted to raise a child. After all, he was practically still a child himself.

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

The thing that scared Alcor the most about raising Toby was how fully the boy trusted him.

He’d experienced and marveled at that kind of trust before. When Mabel found him after that fateful day in 2012 and threw herself at him, sobbing with relief that he wasn’t gone after all, he felt it. When Stan took him and Mabel into his home a few years later, patted him on the back and said “It’s no problem, kid”, he felt it. When he warned Mabel that he shouldn’t be trusted with the triplets’ true names and Mabel shouted him right out of his self-flagellation, he felt it.

The first day he brought Toby home after finding him alone and shivering on the street, he felt something very different.

Panic.

Panic over who the child in front of him truly was underneath that thin layer of flesh. Panic over what would happen if he didn’t stop whatever Bill was planning. Panic as he remembered Weirdmageddon over and over again in complete, horrific detail.

“Listen kid,” he said, floating a few feet off the ground so he could better tower over the child, “no funny business, okay? You hear me in there, Bill?”

Toby only cocked his head, scraggly and unwashed golden locks tumbling away from his face to reveal his scarred eye. He still wore the half-scared half-curious look he’d had when he’d first caught the demon’s attention, but there was something else bubbling up. Something that tasted suspiciously like trust.

It really freaked Alcor out because he didn’t feel he should be trusted to raise a child. Trust was something you gave to adults who knew what they were doing, after all, and he was practically still a child himself.

Alcor grimaced, and lowered onto his knees so he could look the boy directly in the eyes. “I mean it. I’m watching you. I’ll know if anything bad happens.”

To his surprise, Toby smiled at that. “You can make the bad things stop?”

“Yes,” Alcor replied, his voice cracking like it hadn’t in centuries because he was already messing this up, he was sure of it. “N-no getting into trouble. Not on my watch.”

The boy’s face lit up, trust shining brilliant from both eyes, and before Alcor could tell what was happening, Toby had reached up and hugged him around the neck.

And the demon remembered

Bill’s little pipe cleaner hands iron-clad around his neck,

Squeezing the life out of him,

Blue fire rushing all over his body,

Over and into his soul,

Screaming until there was no more breath left in him,

And the little boy’s smile radiated such trust and hope that Alcor was left completely speechless.

“Thank you,” Toby squeaked, and Alcor felt it.

---

“Oh stars, I can’t do this, I can’t do this!” Alcor was in his human disguise, head in hands, elbows resting on the counter, rambling like the world was ending. “I’m way in over my head. Raising a child? Me? I mean I looked after Mabel’s triplets but this is so different…”

“...Sir?” The cashier’s hand hovered over Alcor’s head, unsure whether it was appropriate or comforting to actually pat him. “Are you alright?”

“No!” he fumed, lashing out and knocking over some of his groceries. “I have a six year old at home and he trusts me to look after him and keep him safe! How could this possibly have happened?”

“Uh…” The cashier peered behind the man to the customers in line, most of whom looked some degree of disgruntled or confused. She gave them a little wave to indicate that they should probably move to a different register, and then turned back to the man who appeared to be hyperventilating now. “Do you have a partner? Anyone who’s helping you?”

“Of course not, I’m alone, I’ve got no friends,” he moaned. “There’s no one who I trust enough to foist Toby off to. The poor boy has such bad karma -- he needs me to protect him from that or he’ll get eaten alive!”

“Well… it sounds like you’ve got the right instincts at least. You want to keep him safe.”

“That’s just it! I don’t!” Alcor picked his head up and the cashier saw streaks of a strange yellow liquid running down his face. “Everything I’m doing for him is just stuff I picked up from watching my sister raise her kids! I don’t have any kind of adulting instincts -- none at all! I transcended when I was fucking twelve and that’s where I’ll be stuck until the end of time. I’m just a pointless child! I’ve got too much power and no actual ability to help anyone!”

The cashier sighed and -- after the man nodded to say it was alright -- put her hand on his shoulder. “Listen, man, all of that stuff sounds normal.” (Except for the parts that made no sense to her at all but she opted to ignore them.) “No one knows how to raise a kid, and no one ever feels like they’ve grown up. You learn it as you go. Trust me, my kids ran me ragged and I had no idea what I was doing. But they turned out alright. So will yours.”

Alcor’s voice began to wobble, and he pressed gloved hands to his temples. “But he won’t! I’m developmentally frozen. I’m not capable of learning anything! Seriously, what kind of adult buys this much candy?”

She glanced at his cart, which indeed was half filled with Giddy Cowboys and Sneakers bars. “That is a lot,” she admitted. “I would not advise giving your kid that much candy.”

“What? No.” Alcor stopped sniffling and pulled a face like he’d just smelled poo. “That’s for me. I’m buying all these vegetables and milk and chicken for Toby. He’s a growing kid, he needs to eat healthy, get all those food groups in, you know. I’m not stupid. But I am childish for liking candy so much that I’d eat this much of it in a week! I mean, seriously! Oh stars, I’m hopeless!”

The cashier lifted an eyebrow and removed her hand. “You eat all of this… in a week?”

“I know, I know, I’m ridiculous!”

“That’s not what I meant,” the cashier cut in, before he could start gibbering again. “I’m just worried about your teeth. Your… teeth…” She trailed off as the man suddenly yawned, exposing two rows of jagged knives that could sink into her flesh in an instant. “Your, um, your- your-”

Alcor pulled a mirror out of seemingly nowhere and started picking at his teeth. “What, do I have something in them?”

The cashier’s eyes widened even more as the man’s gloves came off. “My… what pointy claws you have…”

“Thank- wait.” Alcor froze, one long blackened nail still pressed into his gum. “Wait a minute. Pointy. Sharp. Cutting and slicing and ripping open oh stars!”

“Um- um- um-” the cashier tried to say, but with every word she felt like she was shrinking until she’d be swallowed up by her clothes. “Slicing?”

Alcor shook his head furiously, and this time his fist was positively trembling when it came down onto the counter. “I haven’t child proofed the knife drawer in the kitchen!”

He flipped his hat off of his head and pulled out a wad of cash, which he then thrust into the cashier’s hands just as her lights went out. Before anyone else could react, he vanished into thin air, taking his groceries and the shopping cart with him.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before,” Alcor grumbled as he zeroed in on the offending drawer. He pulled it open and there they were -- obscene, dangerous implements that he was a wicked and cruel caretaker to have potentially exposed his child to. He couldn’t stop imagining what might’ve happened if Toby had tried to pull open the drawer and it had fallen on him -- couldn’t stop thinking about his little boy sticking his adorable hand in and receiving cuts and lacerations and awful, awful sobbing filling the house…

With a snap, child locks were in place. Alcor tested them out by trying to pull the drawer open -- and it took a few tries before even he was able to. Sighing with relief, he leaned against the counter and slid down to the floor. His feet bumped up against the shopping cart sitting in the middle of the kitchen, overflowing with Reece’s Mugs and Chortle Taffy and Quasarbursts.

He couldn’t do this. He was too irresponsible.

Alcor dug a hand into the cart and pulled out a candy bar. He sank his teeth into it, enjoyed the rush of sweetness that was almost as good as flesh and bone. Slowly he began to unclench his muscles -- even though his form was imaginary, the cramps shooting throughout his body still hurt. He slid down the counter a little further, almost letting his head touch the floor -- and then he noticed it.

The stairs.

Bolting upright, Alcor let the candy bar fall from his hand. The stairs. How hadn’t he thought about that before? What if Toby fell down and tumbled into the banister and lost his other eye? What if what if what if?

Not a minute later, the demon was wrestling with child safety gates, somehow struggling even with all of his considerable power just to get them to attach to the wall. At one point he tipped his jaw back and used his tongue to line the edges with spit, which then solidified like glue. The stairs had to be safe. He couldn’t risk Toby getting hurt.

And with that thought came even more thoughts that sent Alcor racing through the house. What if Toby slipped in the bathtub? What if Toby climbed on top of the fridge and couldn’t get down? What if Bill slammed his arm in a drawer again and again and again and again until it was full of forks and then he poured soda into his eyes and laughed like a maniac while Dipper drowned in the vast emptiness of the Mindscape???

Alcor stiffened. He set down the intricate contraption he’d been building to keep Toby safe from wild animals in the backyard. And he looked into the mirror.

What was he doing?

This was Bill’s soul he was fretting over. It was always him, on the inside, and he’d known it from the very first day he’d seen the boy. He knew what was lurking beneath the surface, what kind of monster slept in that innocent form waiting until one day he could reach out and traumatize his father once more. Reach out and steal his beating heart, and laugh, and live, and die, and laugh, and live, and die, in a way he’d never be able to again.

A chill passed through Alcor’s body. Something had to be wrong with him, because he knew what Toby was and he’d spent the entire week worrying about the boy. Why did he care so much?

Quietly, he crept down the hall, and peered into the bedroom on the right. There he was -- the beast himself -- sleeping soundly in a bed decorated with race cars and rocket ships. A few more steps, and Alcor could see how small he looked, how even in his sleep he seemed so broken. And the demonic instincts that had rushed through Alcor since the day he’d gone up in flames were quelled, because every fiber of his being told him he needed to protect this child.

He rested a hand on the boy’s forehead, and watched him dream about running around in a field of grass, playing catch with his new father.

---

Thus started a new routine. A demon, trying day-to-day to take care of a small child. Playing grown up even though he felt so utterly unprepared for what he was doing. But Alcor’s life didn’t stop when he became a parent.

Neither did any of his other regular obligations.

“Oh, you’re asking for it now!” Alcor roared, jumping to his feet. “I’m gonna run you through with my sword! Die die die die!”

The dungeon master -- Damien -- peered over his half-rimmed glasses at the demon and smirked. “Not gonna work, I’m afraid. The slime beast’s armor is too thick to be pierced by a sword such as your own.”

Alcor gaped with disbelief. “Whaaat? I call foul play! You let Anushka do it!”

“Anushka’s sword has a fire enchantment on it. Slime armor is weak to heat.”

“Also, I said die five times,” Anushka added with a shit-eating grin on her face, jabbing Alcor in the side with her elbow. “Die die die die die!”

Alcor snorted and dropped back into his chair. “Well, you got me there.” He looked at the other players, disappointment rolling over into amusement. “Can I change my move or am I locked in?”

Damien shrugged. “Go for it. I don’t think you’ll be able to beat it this turn though, and you’ve only got one hit point remaining.”

Nat leaned over and whispered in his ear. “Yo, I’ve got an idea. You should defend this turn and try to survive the slime’s attack, and then on my turn I can fire enchant your sword.”

“Huh. Maybe…” He patted his head to get the spittle out of his ear, and surveyed the map of the dungeon they were in. Then he sat bolt upright in his seat, a large exclamation mark appearing over his head. “Damien. How many sword actions do I get this turn?”

Damien rolled a die. “Two.”

“Yessss. Okay. First, I lunge at the slime again! But with the blunt end of my sword so it gets knocked back.”

Damien rolled another die. “Yep. That works. Are you gonna use your free movement to approach it again?”

Alcor shook his head. “Nope. I’m gonna throw my sword -”

“Your sword doesn’t have enough piercing damage to make a difference from that distance, I’m afraid.”

The room’s dim lighting glinted off of razor sharp teeth. “- at the cable holding up the chandelier.”

Anushka and Nat dropped their pencils, and looked straight up, momentarily forgetting that they were not actually in the dungeon they were traversing. “You what?”

Damien rolled a die again, and sucked in a sharp breath. “Alright. The chandelier falls onto the slime beast before it can react. It quickly catches on fire, leaving it too weak to attack. Congrats!”

Beaming, Alcor scribbled some numbers on his character sheet. “Heck yeah. No slime beast is strong enough to get one past the Dreambender.”

“You’re so creative, Al,” Nat said. “Seriously, wow. I never would’ve thought of that.”

He wove off the compliment. “Naw, I’m just basically a large child. Being silly and immature is what they’re good at.”

Looking up over his dungeon master partition, Damien furrowed his brow. “Why do you say you’re immature -”

There was a ringing in Alcor’s head -- a tug on a bond -- and he held up his hand. “Wait, hold that thought. Speaking of children, my kid’s calling me. I’m gonna have to leave early this week.” He stood up, and did a dramatic bow. “I’ll see ya all next week! Don’t lose my summoning circle!”

Toby -- lying flat on the floor of the Mystery Shack -- perked up at the sight of his adoptive father walking through the door. Tyrone looked about as human as they come -- a man in his mid-thirties with soft brown eyes, no wings, and feet that always touched the ground. He opened his arms and Toby came running to hug him.

Right away there was that trust again, that total trust that Alcor still couldn’t believe he deserved. How could someone like him -- someone who’d just spent two hours playing a tabletop role playing game and laughing about memes -- be trusted to take care of a child?

Gingerly, he took Toby into his arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “How are you doing?”

“I’m boooooooored!” Toby whined. “Can we play a game? I wanna play pretend!”

Chuckling, Alcor put Toby down and then sat beside him on the floor. “Sure thing, kid. You know, I’m pretty good at playing games like that. I was playing one with my friends earlier today.”

Toby’s jaw dropped. “Whoaaaaa! You have friends?”

A vein bulged in Alcor’s forehead. “Of course I- never mind. What’s the game, kid? What are we pretending?”

Toby jumped up and started pacing in a circle. “I wanna make up a story! It’s gonna be great! I’ll be the hero and you’ll be the bad guy -- an evil king who wants to kill all of the good people in the land! Is… is that okay?”

There was a mirror mounted on the wall behind where Toby had been sitting. Without the boy in his way, Alcor found his gaze fixed on it. He could see Toby gesturing as he walked and he could see the nostalgic decorations hanging on the wall of the Shack. But there was no Tyrone to speak of.

It took a moment for him to realize that Toby was talking to him. “What? Oh yeah. Of course, kid. I’ll be the bad guy.” He took a deep breath, discarding the voice in his head that furiously objected to him being the villain to Bill’s hero. “What’s my motivation?”

Toby cocked his head. “Moti- what?”

“What’s my backstory? Why am I evil?”

The boy continued to stare at him with a blank look on his face. “You’re evil cause you’re the bad guy and bad guys are evil!”

“That’s kinda boring- never mind.�� Alcor grimaced and looked back at the mirror. “So you’re the hero, eh? How are you going to defeat me? What’s the hero good at?”

“Everything!!!!” Toby squealed, and his reflection grabbed onto something invisible. “The hero is the good guy so I should always win and I’ll have all of the magic and the biggest swords ever!”

Alcor shifted so that Toby was hanging onto his shoulders rather than around his middle. “Everything? But if the hero always wins, what’s the point?”

“The good guy always has to win!” the boy chirped, squeezing tight around Alcor’s neck. “Always!”

Oh my stars this is so boring, Alcor thought. How fricking uninventive is Bill’s soul? Children are supposed to be good at being silly and creative. I guess all Bill’s soul can think about is being powerful again.

A figure stepped into the room on the other side of the mirror. It was short -- looked to be about 12 years old -- and had clawed hands, bat wings sprouting from its hips, and a fancy suit that looked out of place for someone so young. Alcor’s jaw dropped as he watched the figure pick up Toby’s reflection, pat him on the back, and then stare directly out of the mirror at the demon.

“This is a game for children,” the figure said in a low growl.

“What?” Alcor yelped.

Toby giggled at the interruption. “I said that all the evil people should die because they’re mean! No one should ever do a bad thing!“

“This is what children are like. They see in black-and-white because they know nothing about how the world works.” Cold, black eyes bored into Alcor’s skull. “Have you forgotten what that’s like?”

“B-but I’m silly,” Alcor stammered, sweat starting to drip down his face. “I’m irresponsible. I love playing games and coming up with interesting stories. Those are childish things for someone as old as me to be doing.”

“Dad?” Toby asked. “What are you saying? I can’t hear you.”

The figure sneered, baring two sets of sharp teeth uncomfortably close to Toby’s head. “Whoever told you that must’ve really hated the idea of growing up.” Toby stirred, and it spent a moment cradling him so he’d calm down. Then those eyes -- now bright and full of gold -- flicked back at the demon. “Who said it? Was it you?”

Alcor gasped and fell over. Toby shrieked as he suddenly found himself tumbling to the ground, and the sound broke Alcor right out of his trance. Quick as a whistle, he pirouetted and caught the boy in his arms, pulling him close to his chest in a tight hug.

“Oh no, oh Toby, are you alright?” he fretted. “Did you get hurt?”

“I’m okay!” Toby squeaked, his face pressed against Alcor’s collarbone. Alcor loosened up on his hug, and took in Toby’s smile. “That was fun! You always catch me! That’s how I know you’re really a good guy.”

“I’m a good guy?” Alcor gulped, and glanced back at the mirror. This time he saw himself, in his present human disguise, holding Toby close, and looking so, so utterly responsible. It freaked him out.

“...Dad?” Toby asked, brow crumpled. “Daaaaad what are you thinking?”

“I think…” Alcor sighed, and gave his son a little kiss on the forehead. “I think it’s time you got some friends your own age.”

---

From that day on, things were a little different.

Alcor bought a house in the physical plane, because a memory of a shack in the Mindscape was no place to raise a child.

“Dad?”

He doctored forms and documents so it not only looked like a certain Tyrone Pines actually existed, but also that he and his adopted son Tobias Pines were legal residents of a sleepy town in the middle of Washington. This let Toby attend school with kids his own age.

“What is it, Toby?”

He went to the library on the weekly to check out parenting books, having long exhausted the meager supply of advice his omniscience had to offer -- as it turned out, parenting was very much a learn-as-you-go experience with few absolute truths to guide you.

“What’s a demon?”

Alcor froze, his hand halfway in the process of turning a page in his book. He started to turn his head around to look at the boy, and remembered just in time to turn his body around with it.

“Where did you hear that?” Alcor asked carefully.

Toby kept his head down, opting to study his father’s shoes instead of his face. “I, um...”

There it was again, that emotion bubbling up inside of Alcor, that instinctual distrust he couldn’t help but feel for the soul who had once taken everything from him. It was all he could do not to jump up and yell “Aha! Caught you red-handed, Bill! I knew you were in there all along!”

He got out of his chair and knelt in front of the child, using a finger to gently raise the boy’s head so they could see eye-to-eye. “You can tell me,” he said softly. “It’s okay.”

Alcor saw Toby reach into that pure, automatic trust he had for the monster who was raising him. The boy gulped, and squared his shoulders.

“Um... Devon’s dad said it to Devon.”

Alcor blinked. “Is that so? Devon, the kid in your class who asked you to play baseball with him?”

Toby nodded. “H-he was asking me again, and I know you said I wasn’t allowed to, but he started showing me anyway. He got his bat and swinged it and it looked really cool. Then his dad yelled at him and said ‘Devon, you little demon, cut that out right now!’“

Alcor could only stare, mouth agape, in response. Toby started to tremble as he continued speaking. “Then Devon’s dad took the baseball bat and Devon got really sad and I didn’t know what it means but it looked bad and I don’t want to be a little demon and I’m really really sorry I said I wanted to play baseball I don’t want to be a demon I don’t I don’t -”

He cut off with a squeak as his father took him into his arms and hugged him tight.

Alcor was a being with access to more power and magic than almost anything else in the universe. He could level mountains, he could turn cities inside out, he could institute universal basic income on the moon with a snap of his fingers.

But when he held Toby in his arms, when he saw the awestruck look on the boy’s face when he played the violin for him, when he listened to Toby babble excitedly about whatever he’d learned in school that day, Alcor felt powerful.

All of his magic crumbled beneath the obscene power granted to him by way of this child’s trust in him. He had the power to protect this child, to support and encourage him to grow up to be the best person he could be. He could also betray Toby’s trust so, so easily.

He could punish his son for no reason if he needed an emotional pick-me-up. He could disregard the boy’s concerns and laugh in his face. He could even raise his voice just a little too much, caught in a moment of frustration, and leave Toby wincing in distress -- an ephemeral moment in Alcor’s life but an upsetting and formative moment in Toby’s which could forever mar their relationship.

That would be childish. That would be immature of him.

Alcor had killed reams of cultists, had bestowed disturbing curses on people who’d only sort of deserved it, had terraformed the western coast of the United States in a fit of rage. He’d done a lot of horrible things with his magic, but.

This power, this power he had to shape Toby’s life.

This power horrified him.

“You’re not a demon,” Alcor said, (and it felt so unfair to be saying that to him of all people -- so cruel and dirty that he wanted to scream until his hair fell out. But he didn’t.)

“Don’t cry,” (even though no one had held him when he cried that day in 2012, because he’d simply slipped through their fingers, and he wanted to repay that favor. But he didn’t.)

“Daddy’s here,” he whispered, before kissing Toby’s tears away. “You’re not in trouble.”

The words came so naturally, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. As if he had the experience to understand what was upsetting his son, and the power to make it better. As if he had the maturity to push past his own conflicted feelings, because he was an adult, and this was a little child.

He set Toby down, and kneeled to meet his eyes. In that moment, he felt tall. Sort of grown up.

Toby sniffled. “You’d never yell at me? Even if I do something wrong?”

Alcor thought once again back to the day he’d seen Bill Cipher on the side of the road. Thought about the furious, vengeful part of him that enjoyed the boy’s suffering because that’s what he deserved. Remarked on how the universe had served him up his greatest enemy in the most vulnerable form possible, giving him the opportunity to take Toby’s trust and do unspeakable things to him.

“Sure thing, kiddo,” he said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I promise.”

Remembered how he’d instead chosen love.

---

It was a dark and stormy night that found Alcor wandering the streets of a mostly-abandoned city.

He’d been summoned -- it always started with a summons -- and he’d been angry. It didn’t even matter what had made him angry, because there were so many things these days that people absolutely would not stop doing no matter how much he screamed and threatened and threw flaming balls of plasma into their twisted places of worship. They never learned. And neither did he.

Alcor couldn’t stand how many people had to die because of him. How many people were killed in his name. How many lives he’d taken with his own hands because he couldn’t seem to stop, like an immature brat who throws tantrums when things don’t go his way. He wondered if he could ever change, or if he was just stuck this way.

It was deep in these thoughts that the demon heard a little noise. A squeak, barely audible over the rain. He dismissed it at first, because his grand thoughts were more important than the world around him, and right after a bad summons was the perfect time for self-hatred. It felt good -- it was one of the only things that still did. He considered burning the entire city to the ground. Maybe that’d feel even better.

Something told him that it wouldn’t.

He heard the squeak again, his eyes darting over to a heap of trash bags between two buildings, and that’s when he saw him. A little boy with golden hair, no older than six. He was dressed in rags. He looked like he hadn’t seen a scrap of food in days. The left side of his face had been eaten away by flame, leaving it patchy and discolored.

Alcor had seen right through Bill’s disguise, of course. There wasn’t a meatsuit pitiable enough to blot out the sins his soul had committed. Perhaps that was why he had been abandoned on the side of the street to begin with -- karma was finally catching up with him. Alcor wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. Something strange was going on inside of him. Some sort of instinct buried within him -- not one tipped with blood and claws, but one that creaked and groaned under centuries of exertion.

It was this feeling that prompted him to gather up the child in his arms. He felt how fast the boy’s heart was beating; saw in his past how much he’d been hurt without an adult to protect him. He knew that feeling well.

“It’s okay,” he murmured as Toby began to fuss. “Things will be better now. I’ll protect you. I might only be a child myself, but I promise I’ll protect you.”

One year later, one year of introspection, growth, and unbroken promises later, he had to admit he’d been wrong.

(AO3 link)