#again if someone else feels inspired by the recipe and would like to make their own cookies. yes pls and also pls share

[halfbaked00q]

aaand here are the ficbits I started coalescing based on my previous concept post -- as a reminder: 00Q are together, Q takes Bond for granted/accidentally hurts his feelings slash breaks his heart by being unintentionally hurtful and also unthinkingly dismissive of the thing they have going on between them. there is more to it but these are the parts that coalesced

(as it says in the tin these are more so like the... vibes-based pre-alpha demo drafts of a fic, as opposed to anything so respectable as an actual drabble or ficlet. and, as such, some parts may perhaps be a bit overworked, tenses are all over the place probably, punctuation is more abt the vibes than actual grammar tbh- but anyway please enjoy our featured program, hot off my notes app presses-)

///

===

They're walking and talking, and then suddenly, it's just him walking and them not talking. Too late, he realizes that the growing silence from beyond his elbow had gone quite still rather than companionable. Too late, he glances back around, just barely catching the tail end of…

…..

The thing is, even in hindsight, he’d be hard pressed to pinpoint what exactly he saw cross Bond's face… only that he was suddenly left feeling rather as if a door he hadn't even known was there had unceremoniously and quite ignominiously shuttered sharply in his face. /// [[only that he was suddenly rather left feeling as if he'd blithely walked into a door that materialized just to shutter quite ignominiously in his face.]?]

As it stands — and unfortunately far too late— as he desperately rolls back the last few moments to try to find- as it slowly, far to slowly, begins to dawn on him-

“007- Bond- wait, I,” was about all he managed to stammer out before Bond somehow manages to evaporate from sight, leaving him blinking at the afterimage of crisp suiting and unbreachable impassiveness.

Oh. Oh shit.

—

Eve took one look at him and immediately swept herself up from her desk and him away to - he paused to gather his bearings - what appeared to be an empty conference room.

“Well,” she said without preamble. “Out with it then.”

Q wrung his hands. “It's Bond,” he finally manages to get out. When is it not.

(maybe sth about a moment too long passed, then another, then another- and he admits. It's me, really, but it is also to do with Bond. / Eve is either not surprised or is waiting him out- no visible reactions one way or another yet)

////

I think he must have said something about anniversaries, and I joked back- or thought I was joking back- something about how he surely wouldn't be expected to keep track of all of his anniversaries like this, or else his rolodex would be fit to bursting. And then when I saw the expression on his face I hastened to reassure him that I certainly had no expectations on that front, ta very much. But it was entirely the wrong thing to say.

What he didn't - couldn't - confess to Eve was the way Bond had — oh, earnestly, seriously — brought up the subject of their upcoming anniversary, and how — yes, unintentional though it might have been, but nonetheless— absurdedly callous his casual dismissive burst of laughter must have been.

//

“…and speaking of, our anniversary is coming up too, you know.”

That accursed involuntary, misplaced, mocking peal of mirth. Then, worse- carelessly, unthinkingly- “Oh don't injure yourself on my account, I'm hardly expecting you to keep track of all of your little anniversaries from your various escapades, let alone ‘ours.’ Goodness, your little black book would be fit to bursting - well, even more so than it is now - if we're expecting you to note down anniversaries and nonesuch as well now.”

////

“Q,” Eve called after him. He paused and turned, saw her regarding him. “Be careful with him,” she finally said.

“You're the one who warned me off him in the first place!”

“Be that as it may, but., well. clearly James Bond deserves for you to take some care with him.” with his heart, goes unspoken, but certainly not unsaid

[merbear25]

Could you do one piece x a cute fem reader who is really good at making desserts and owns a cute bakery!?!?

Hello, hello! This is a super cute request, so I'm happy to write it for you. Since you didn't specify which 3 characters, I chose the ones I had some ideas for. I hope you like what I've written for you 💜💜

CW: SFW, fluff, fem!reader, headcanons

With a fem!reader who bakes and has a bakery (Sanji, Luffy, Koby)

Sanji: Was there anything you couldn’t do? You were already precious to him in every way, but seeing as you not only had a passion for baking, but you also had the drive to open your own business was truly inspiring. He adored watching you express your creativity and adored it even more when others appreciated your hard work. Plus, seeing you in your cute apron and uniform was an added bonus. Being the supportive man that he was, he’d help out around the bakery in any way you needed. Someone called in sick? He’d be there to fill in. The dishwasher broke? He’d wash the dishes himself. Since he was quite the creative one in the kitchen as well, it’d be a lovely bonding moment to bake together, share recipes, and get a little side tracked here and there, his sincerity never leaving him.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Luffy: Admittedly, he wasn’t the best when it came to distinguishing good quality food from bad. That being said, he enjoyed your sweet treats more than anyone else’s. His eyes would sparkle whenever you made something. You learned quickly that if you ever had to bake something for work at home, you had to prepare triple the amount to accommodate Luffy’s constant hunger and lack of self-control. That didn’t mean he’d carelessly eat anything that wasn’t for him, though; he’d just whine a bit about how tasty it looked and how badly he wanted to eat it. When he visited you at the bakery, he’d talk to some of the customers, telling them about which of your baked goods were his favorites. You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest whenever you heard him gushing about how talented he thought you were.

“Everything you make is amazing!”

Koby: You were outstanding in every sense of the word. He was always the kind of person to believe in fighting for what you want, pushing yourself to make it a reality. That's why when you opened your bakery to live part of your dream, he couldn’t help himself: he fell for you all over again. On top of the devotion you had to your business, you were exceptionally talented at what you baked too. Truth be told, you helped keep that fire under him lit. He admired you so much, and you inspired him to keep pushing for his own dreams and wants. Never faltering from the supportive role, he was your biggest cheerleader, offering to help when and how you needed him to—no questions asked. Whenever you were excited about how well something turned out, he was there to listen and encourage you.

“You can do anything. I know you can!”

[artists-ally]

{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Reader x Lucien Vanssera {Pt.2}

Welp. Here we are. Didn't know this was gonna happen. I had ZERO INTENTIONS of writing a part two but I basically got cyber bullied into making another so here ya go fuckers. Someone literally threatened to stop taking their meds so to whoever that was I hope you get to keep your kidney! Enjoy! This part is inspired by this song.

Word Count: 6,111

Warnings: ANGST (yall thought you’re gonna get a happy ending? HAHAHAH) Some pretty negative self talk.

Tagging: @bubybubsters @cyrygher @thelov3lybookworm @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @anuttellaa @lookingforamissingpage @thehighlordishere @crazylokonugget

Summary: In the days and weeks that follow your downfall with Lucien, he has no fucking clue how to go about life without you. He can’t cope. And he desperately wants to fix everything with you.

~~~~~~~

LUCIEN’S POV

I have made the biggest mistake of my entire life. I thought that would be reserved for not being able to protect Jesminda. No. This… this is… I don’t even know.

I’m just standing on the sidewalk, staring at our- her home. At the rustic, auburn door we painted. At its brass knob, at the rusty, creaking hinges that would ring through the house when someone came in. At the little potted plant in the corner, the vines spilling out of it. 

I’ll never be back here again. 

I’ll never get to hear her laugh.

I’ll never get to taste her new recipes.

I will never be able to take all that I said back. That is the most haunting feeling of it all.

I’m an awful person. After all she’s done for me. After saving my life– on more than one occasion– I went and did nothing in return. I gave her nothing for her endless kindness. All I was capable of doing was destroying the one person in my life who has given me everything I’ve ever wanted. 

Unconditionally. She always loved me unconditionally. How could I have been so blind and naive to it? How did I never see it? 

Gods every single time she made me something to eat, a recipe to try… she was basically shoving the bond in my face, hoping I would see it. And I never ever considered it. I was so lost in Elain. Lost in the fact that I finally had feelings for someone after Jesminda… Not once did I think it could be Yn. 

I don’t deserve her. I never did. I was a bitter, rotten shell of a man when she met me. She dragged me by the arms to her house to fix me. She thought I was worthy of being saved when my own father thought the opposite. Yn put me back together. She made me who I am. And this is the thanks I give her?

Elain has said all of ten sentences to me in the past year. I haven’t been able to do anything but replay every single one of them in my head. A thousand times– a hundred thousand times. I wish I couldn’t. It’s exhausting. Constantly thinking of her. But I don’t have a choice. 

I like the feeling of being able to feel again. But at the cost of Yn? At the complete sacrifice of all I’ve known for the past century? My rock? My best friend? Nothing is worth more. 

But it is far too late to do anything about it. I’ve lost her.

I want her back. 

Yn did things to me that no one else could. She just seemed to know when things were wrong. She always knows what to say, when to say it, and how. She never tells you what you want to hear, it’s always what you need. She is the most well rounded person I’ve ever met. She’s never afraid to feel her emotions. 

I envy that skill.

I’ve always hid my feelings deep down. It took years to decipher them again. But it was Yn who made me do it. She always fought for me, fought me for me. Yn never let me do it alone. Refused to, actually. Was there every step of the way and never told me I was taking too long or wasting her time. 

I get it now.

And there is nothing I can do. I have nowhere to go. Tears scald my eyes as I trudge down the little path that we beat into the grass. Day in and day out. 

I remember when we picked this place. We had only been in Velaris for a week or two when we stumbled across it. It was run down and needed a new roof. As a thank you for keeping Feyre safe on our journey across the Courts, Rhysand gifted it to us. Complete with a new roof, new furniture, a new kitchen for Yn to cook in. And he let us be. Well, let her be. I still had my debts to pay off. 

And then I met Elain and… fuck. Everything went to shit after that. 

There is no way of processing all of these emotions at once. These very real feelings I still have for Elain. And these all-of-a-sudden very fucking real feelings I now have for Yn. It’s how I imagine imploding feels like. My body wants to cave into itself and never fold back out. 

I pray to the Cauldron that I do self destruct. This feeling, a mixture between irrational rage and betrayal… I don’t wish it upon another living soul. And Gods know I’d sell mine to change everything I’ve just done. 

I don’t even know how I ended up at the Town House. All of a sudden I was just standing in front of it. I normally resent coming here, but for some reason I was relieved to see the bricks and busted up cobblestone sidewalk. Maybe no one would be here; Rhys was more often than not at the River House with Feyre and Nyx, indulging in the life of parenthood. Nesta and Cassian were probably somewhere in the House of Wind with Elain, Mor at Rita’s, Amren with Varian, and who the hell knows where Azriel is.

I can’t wait to be alone to scream. 

Fuck, the door is locked. Of course the door is locked, no one’s here. It takes every bit of control in my shiver-ridden body to not rip the door off its hinges. And it takes even more control to not collapse against the door and break down for the whole street to see. 

The lock clicks and the door opens. 

I force myself to appear relaxed. I wipe my tears and brush away my loose strands of hair. No use. My face is probably as red as the burning self hatred inside my twisted heart. 

“What are you doing here Lucien?” The High Lord asks. 

I gulp. Of all the people, it had to be him? At least it’s not Azriel, I think. I might hate him more than I hate myself. For actually getting Elain’s attention. Yn was right, I am selfish. “Sorry, didn’t realize you were in.”

“Did you leave something?” I don’t move, and I stay deathly still. Rhys looks me head to toe, and I know he can scent me from a mile away. “Lucien, what the fuck did you do?”

“Stay the fuck out of my head,” I snarled, pointing a finger at his chest. 

“I don’t need to read your thoughts. Your face says it all.”  Rhys crosses his arms over his chest, “Look, we’ve all told you that Elain is hard to reach these days. She isn’t worth-”

“This… this doesn’t have anything to do with Elain.” I lied. He seemed to know it. “Can I just come in?”

Rhys just steps aside, shutting the door behind me. “I don’t really have time for-”

“I fucked up.”

“Clearly.”

“Rhysand,” I said. So full of disgust. He looked at me with a blank expression. One I have seen too many times to not know what comes next. I eased up my tone. “Is anyone else here?”

“No,” he answers, moving around me and heading into a study on the other side of the living room. 

I can’t help but think of how we all gathered in that living room a few months ago for Solstice. Exchanging gifts and drinks and smiles and stories. I vividly remember making Yn laugh so hard she tipped her head over the arm of the couch, sending her wine tumbling to the ground. The stain still on the small rug almost makes me smile, and it almost makes me burst into tears. 

“I ruined everything in my life. Yn’s gone.” I could feel the air freeze around me. “Not like, gone gone but she’s… I don’t think I’ll ever be seeing her again.”

“So this is because of Elain.”

I bit my tongue so hard I thought I’d bite it off completely. But I sighed, the tears coming with it. “Yes.” A really long pause. “She told me I’m-”

“You’re Yn’s mate?”

“Yes.”

“And you never knew because you were so focused on Elain.” “Is that supposed to be a question?”

“It was, but you just gave me your answer,” Rhys sat. “Do you want me to keep guessing or are you going to tell me what happened?”

I took the biggest breath I could, steading my words. “I missed the opening of her restaurant because I was with Elain.”

Rhysand looked at me with such revulsion that I thought he might put me through a wall. Those wicked, violet eyes could’ve boiled my bones. For a split second I wished he would. I could tell he wanted to say something, but I don’t think there were enough words in the world for how much of an awful person I was. 

“There are things in this world that we sacrifice in this world Lucien,” Rhys said.

Hesitantly, “I know.” 

“And Yn gave up the biggest of them all. She shut her mouth to let you be happy. She did what I did for Feyre until she realized what situation she was in. You are one spineless bastard for doing anything but giving your life to her.”

“I know.”

“Have you any idea what you’ve done to her? She gave you everything you could ever ask for. From the moment the two of you stepped in my Court I could tell she only had eyes for you. When you are in the room you’re the only one she looks at. How could you have not known?”

“I don’t know…” “Yes, you do.”

I plunged my nails into my palms. “For Cauldron's sake Rhysand of course I know.”

“Then why did you continue to ignore Yn?”

“Because I couldn’t ever let myself think a female like her would like such a broken, dismantled and lost soul like mine.” Rhysand stared at me. “When Yn pulled me from the border to fix me, she spent every waking moment of her life stringing my mind and body into one piece. If I let myself think for even a second that it was anything other than kindness, I would’ve gone mad.”

“Would it have been so terrible to love her?”

“I’ve always loved her. I just never thought I’d be allowed to love her the way she loves me.”

“Because of Elain?” “Because of Elain.”

Rhys blew out a breath, sitting down on the corner of his desk. “So, let me see if I have all of this correct. You wouldn’t let yourself fall for Yn because you thought you were unworthy. Instead, you sabotaged both of your happiness for Elain simply because she was your mate and you just wanted to feel something?”

“It sounds so much more fucked when you say it outloud.” I rubbed my hands over my tired, burning eyes. “And it’s not just because she’s my mate, Rhys. I genuinely like her. She’s… she has the potential to be so sweet. I’ve seen glimpses of it, heard stories from Feyre and Nesta. Why won’t she let me see?”

“You are still clueless, aren’t you?” He scoffed. “Here you are, a ruined man because you drove away your best friend, and you’re still worried about someone who doesn’t want you. Pathetic. You are a selfish son of a bitch.”

“I can’t just ignore Elain. It’s impossible to think of anything else but her and how I can help her.” “Lucien,” Rhysand stopped me from going on another tangent. “Maybe start considering that she doesn’t want you.”

“What?” My lip trembled. “N-No she… we have a bond. It’s there she just needs time. I’m her mate, she’ll want one eventually.”

“Just like Yn will want one?” His eyes were as viscous as the tone of his voice. “You are doing the same thing to Yn that Elain is doing to you. You understand how that feels. Now imagine that Elain was the one you found on the border of the Spring Court and you spent decades nursing her mind back into her body. Recreating her personality and passions. Wouldn’t you be a little fucking irate if she started showing interest in another male after all you did for her?”

I froze.

This was so much deeper than I ever thought it could be. But I could see it. Bringing Elain back to herself all for it to be thrown away by another male. Azriel filled that roll, and I was filled with raw fury at the mere thought of that happening. 

“So now you see what Yn has been dealing with. And Gods, Lucien, she has been dealing with it for a long while. What you did was wrong, unjust, and unfair. And for you to be with Elain on the day of her grand opening, where all of us just were, is… that may be unforgivable.”

“I don’t deserve to be forgiven for what I’ve just done…”

My shoulder hunch, and my chest cracks. I am a bleeding mess of tears. I can barely stand as I openly sob in front of Rhys. I’m surprised when he shoves a chair under me instead of letting me crumble to the floor in my self induced agony. And I’m even more surprised when he puts a hand on my shoulder. 

It’s Yn. It’s always been Yn. There is nothing in this world that can compare to her or her kindness or her love. What a fool I have been to not take the hand that was given me. What a selfish, self-serving waste of a man I have been to her. 

I can’t take it. I have to have her back. I have to fix this. I have to. I have to. I have to. 

I stand. “Woah, what are you doing?” Rhys tried to get me to sit down. 

“Yn- I have to fix this with Yn-”

“No,” Rhys slams me back into the chair. “You are not going to march back over there.”

“I have to,” I yelled. “I can’t let her kick me out without her knowing that I’m sorry. That I’ll do anything she wants me to to win her back. I can’t be without her, I need her.”

“She kicked you out?” I nodded. “You’re not going anywhere. She clearly doesn’t want to see you. Nothing you could say to her would suffice. Especially right now. She needs time. She needs space. If I find out that you go back to your- her house, I’ll drop you back in the Spring Court, do you understand me?”

I nod viciously. 

“Good,” Rhys let out a heavy breath. “You can have your old room back. Nothing in it but a few storage boxes. Everything is otherwise untouched.” Great. My old memories to haunt me. Just what I needed. For a very short week we stayed here. Yn’s room was right across from mine. Just another reminder of everything that’s happened between now and then. 

I slump in the seat, letting tears trickle down my nose and onto my knee. Watching them evaporate and dry, just for the material to be soaked again. “I’m so sorry Yn…”

I heard Rhys whirl around, and I could feel the tension across the room. He probably thinks I’m mad. I might as well be. 

More footsteps sounded than people in the house and Cassian walked in the room. Luckily I was facing away from him. “Don’t tell me he’s a part of our special detachment.”

I rolled my eyes. Cassian, ever the charming.

“No, he’s… well, he’ll be living here for a little while.”

“Do I wanna know?”

“It’s none of your business,” I snapped. No one spoke. I sighed for what felt like the billionth time today. “Sorry.”

“What happened?” Cassian asked, coming to stand next to me, his body reeking of sweat and dirt. All I had to do was lift my head and I think he understood enough. That or Rhys told him. “I won’t say anything cause I’ll probably just make it worse.”

“Probably,” Rhys nodded. 

“Probably.” My eyes burned, so did my skin. “I have to get all my stuff out tomorrow. She told me to.”

“Then you’ll do it tomorrow. Not tonight, tomorrow. Respect her wishes, or I will make you.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“We’ll be back,” Rhys grabbed a few things from his desk then ushered Cassian out the door. “Don’t do anything. Just stay here.”

It could’ve been twenty minutes or two hours until I finally moved upstairs. Forcing myself to not go to Yn’s room was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. All the conversations we had, all the plans we made. It’s where she first got the idea of her restaurant. She literally had a dream and made it a reality. 

I’d be lying if I said I told her how proud of her I was. I never have. Why have I never told her that? Could I really have been that caught up in Elain that… Wow. It’s funny how you only realize after the fact. 

My bed caught me as I collapsed into it, tucking my knees into my chest. I am such a loser. Pathetic. Just like Rhys said. My heart would burn up and die at this rate. It was a mystery how I hadn’t burst into flames yet. 

There are so many things I need, and Yn takes the top of the list. She had always been everything I needed. When I needed comfort, I went to Yn. When I needed solutions, I went to Yn. When I needed answers, to be heard, to be validated, to be loved… who was I supposed to go to now? Definitely not Rhys or Cassian, and certainly not Elain.

Maybe for the first time ever I wanted nothing to do with Elain. I didn’t want to see her. I couldn’t care less if I ever saw her again. Her presence in my life has done nothing but tear my other relationships apart. 

She’s the reason I’m here in this mess.

_____

At some ridiculous hour of the night– morning? Is that the sun?– I heard the door open. I shot up, then deflated down. I wasn’t in my bed. I wasn’t at home. And that wasn’t Yn walking in the door. 

Every thought and emotion rushed back into my head, creating an endless tangle of thoughts. The next more horrid and self destructive than the last. I deserve it. 

Missing the opening of her restaurant, Latibule–an ancient word for refuge or safe place–was the biggest mistake of my life. I will never be able to make that up to her. I turned her biggest accomplishment into a slimy, diseased memory. I ruined what was supposed to be the best night of her life.

I’ve let her down in a way I’ll never be able to repair. 

Even Rhys and Feyre were there last night. And I wasn’t. Nesta and Cassian. Azriel, Amren, Mor… they were all there, supporting her. And I was with Elain. She probably wanted to go, and I was there, holding her back. 

I need to get out of this room before it crushes me whole.

I could see the sun just barely peeking over the Sidra when I stepped outside, cloak wrapped tightly around my head and shoulders to keep out the early morning bite. 

There wasn’t a soul around, Velaris still blissfully asleep besides this one small corner store that sold hot tea and pastries all hours of the day. Rustling in my pocket was just enough for a peach turnover and a cherry blossom tea. 

The bell chimed above the door as I walked in, knocking my boots against the step to not track dirt in. 

“Early start to the day, Luc?” Ms. Immy smiled from behind the counter, polishing a few mugs before moving to come to the display case, packed full of delicious goods, savory and sweet. 

“Unfortunately,” I sighed. “Couldn’t really sleep.”

“Well I am glad to have you in, the usual?”

“That would be great, Ms. Immy.” 

The lovely owner of the bakery was Ms. Immy. One of the older members of the Night Court but as wise as they come. She’s the kindest, most gentle fae to roam Prythian. With her soft, sage green eyes and long, slender ears adorn with piercings, Ms. Immy was by far one of my favorites here. 

The kettles whistled behind her as she dipped a tea bag into my mug. Ms. Immy always had designated mugs for her regular customers. Mine was made of green clay, mostly green with a white oval on the front with two lines of flowers. In the center of it all was a simple fox. She once told me that I had the spirit of one of those extinct creatures in the human lands. That I was reserved, and at my core I fiercely protected those I cared about.

If only I had been able to protect Yn from myself.

Her mug had been one crafted of the moon and the stars. With all the constellations of the Gods being lifted into the air by the magic of the Cauldron. Ms. Immy had told her it was a visual representation that Yn was a great reminder of the past to the current world. That she was lost art that was to never be forgotten. 

There is nothing I want more than for the rest of the world to be loved as fiercely as she had loved me.

“Here is your tea, Lucien,” Ms. Immy set the mug on the counter, pushing up the glass case and plucking a peach turnover out. “And for you as well.”

“Thank you,” I tried to smile. I stared at the blackberry tart next to the peach turnovers. Yn’s go-to. It made my blood run cold. 

I put the coins in her hand before I could begin to cry again and scooted out the door as another person was coming in. 

The table and chairs outside were hard and covered in a light mist. It creaked as I sat, just as it always did. I should've sat anywhere else, but my body naturally drifted to this exact spot. It had a good view of the street so Yn and I could watch the people walk by. Pretending we know every bit of their personal lives and beyond. Make up extravagant stories and adventures for the most boring looking individuals in hopes they may one day get to go on them in another lifetime. 

Gods she is everywhere. She’s in the tavern across the street, in the stones on the ground that we used to kick on our walks. She’s in the sunrise, the same color of her heated cheeks filling the sky. There is no escaping what used to be my whole world. 

Silently, I let a few tears roll down my cheeks. I ought to be ashamed of showing so much emotion in public, but for some reason I can’t find the will to care. 

The door chimes and footsteps go back down the street. The door chimes again. 

“My fox boy,” Ms. Immy says so softly I almost don’t hear it over the roar in my ears. “What troubles you so badly you can’t sleep?”

I bite my lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises. “I don’t know how to fix something that I’ve done.”

“You missed the opening of Yn’s restaurant.” She says. 

I nod. “How did you know?”

“Because I did not see you there, fox boy.”

“She kicked me out, Ms. Immy. I deserved it, every bit of what she said was true.”

“I think that is true, Lucien,” Ms. Immy came and sat in Yn’s spot, folding her hands in her lap, letting out a breath of air as she extended her old, feeble legs. “Nobody is happy with what you’ve done but-”

“I didn’t mean to blow her off Ms. Immy I just-”

“But,” she cuts me off with a pointed look. “I think you are a very lost soul. For the first time in your life you are truly free. No High Lord to obey, no throne to fight for, no war to fight in. Just a High Lord to serve and to respect. You have everything you could ask for, and yet you have no idea what to do with it.”

She’s right. She’s always right. “I want to fix it. I have to.”

“I am afraid that may not be what the spirit of the Gods wants.” Why is it that I get called fox boy and Yn get’s called something as majestic as ‘spirit of the Gods’? “If those are her wishes, you are going to respect them. Eternally.”

“I will go mad. If I don’t have her by my side for the rest of my life I will go mad.” “So you share a bond with her as well?” She asks. 

“I don’t know. All I do is that I haven’t stopped crying and shaking at every reminder of her. No matter how small. Life without her in it is meaningless to me. Afterall, she is the one who gave it back to me.”

“And a good job she did, fox boy,” Ms. Immy smiled softly. “You are a good male who has been blinded by instincts. While it is not your fault, it has become your problem. And by the looks of you, it seems like it has become quite the ordeal.”

My shoulders dropped as I put my head in my palms. I breathed. “I don’t know how to function without her. She has been there, every day of my life, for nearly seventy years, Ms. Immy. We did everything together. Our mornings were spent as one, our evenings, all the restaurant planning and-and brunches here with you-”

“Breathe, Lucien-”

“How am I supposed to just pack up my things today and move on? H-How am I supposed to just carry on as if she never existed in my life? The thought of not being able to see her every day makes me want to peel the skin off my flesh.”

Ms. Immy looked at me, the hard lines in her face becoming more defined. “Listen to me very carefully, fox boy. What’s done is done. You cannot go back in time and take back what you said. The worst of it is over. Now comes the long process of trying to piece your life together. Whether Yn will be able to help you will depend on what you decide to do in the next several days. If you follow her wishes of moving out and staying clear, there could be a chance in the future. But, if you neglect her wishes, as you had neglected her to lead you to this moment, then there is no hope.”

If you neglect her wishes, as you had neglected her to lead you to this moment, then there is no hope… Words have never stunned me quite as forcefully as Ms. Immy’s had. The true gravity of the situation has set in, if it hadn’t already. One wrong move and she’s gone. For good.

“There is a reason why you are my little fox, Lucien,” Ms. Immy stood, taking my cold mug that I hadn’t touched. “They were intelligent, cunning creatures, just as you are. Do not let your instincts guide you to a decision. Let your heart and the facts do it for you.”

“The facts? What facts?” “The fact that you have screwed up. The fact that Yn has made a decision for you since you were incapable of doing it yourself. It is truth, and it hurts, but it has to for change to come.” And then she went inside. 

I sat with those final words for far longer than I anticipated. It was long enough for people to begin leaving their homes, the streets beginning to fill with people. 

Yn would be out of the house by now, opening for the restaurant’s breakfast hours. I could go now. Or I could stay here and try to blend into the hundreds of faces passing in and out. But I need to move. Yn might come in for her apple cider and blackberry tart. If I saw her right now I’d surely do something stupid. 

As I walked, the clouds blocked out the sun and it began to drizzle. The drizzle turned into a steady rain, then a downpour. I was soaked through my cloak and boots, water seeping in and out with every step. My hair stuck to the back of my neck. 

I kept my head down as I walked, afraid of being recognized. If Ms. Immy had been there to not see me at Latibule, who else? 

The cobblestone ended and mud replaced it. I knew where I was.

The old, beaten path dared me to go up to the house. It beckoned me. From here, at the bottom of the hill, I could see several boxes stacked up outside the door, the disposable brown material soaked through with the rain. She was serious…

Some part of me– the extremely selfish part– has been secretly hoping that she’ll tell me she made a mistake and that she wants me back. But I think those boxes are a not-so-gentle-shove in the opposite direction. 

The key in my pocket might as well have been the key to another universe, because when I opened the door it was like I entered a whole new world. One without me in it. All the pictures of us, all the paintings Feyre had done for us, were off the walls. All the plants and trinkets and decorations I gifter here were piled in the corner for me to collect.

How could so much damage have been done in just a few hours? 

One by one, I packed away the things into the soggy boxes. I moved from room to room. Silently. Hoping this was all a dream only to be launched back into reality with every memory that surfaced. Every possession I had given her in the last seventy years was piled here for me to take. 

She wanted no trace of me here. And I didn’t blame her. I don’t want any trace of me either. 

I must’ve stayed there for hours– crying, packing, reliving moments I had long forgotten only to cry again– because it was close to sunset now. Every trace of me was packed up; all those pictures, all those trinkets, all my clothes and bathing goods… everything I owned fit into these boxes. Everything except for the one person I didn’t want to do life without. 

But Rhys and Ms. Immy are right. If I try to do something now, to get her back, I’ll ruin any real chance. That is something I can’t afford. 

To an immortal, a few months or years equivalates to just a few minutes of human life. But if it takes years for Yn to accept me back in her life…

Besides the clothes and membranes from the Autumn and Spring Courts, I discard everything. I will tear myself to bits if I don’t get rid of them. Will I regret it down the road, probably, but I can’t have them. 

The two boxes and bag of clothes I carry from her house to the Town House are water logged and falling apart. It’s a miracle they didn’t unravel completely. Just add more humiliation to a High Lords son dragging boxes and bags through the street. I deserve all the stare’s and hushed questions. 

Nothing could’ve prepared me for the sights of Rhys and Cassian helping me carry them up the stairs. 

“I don’t know how you’re feeling but-”

“Don’t,” I pleaded. “Just… just don’t. I don’t want your pity, Cassian.”

“I am probably the last person besides Azriel who would pity you, Lucien. And I had no intentions to belittle you for what you did. I was going to offer you a spot in my training ring if you ever needed an escape.”

His kindness shocked me. I can’t say I know the Illyrian well, but this gesture spoke a lot to his character. So I sighed, of course I thought he was going to be hostile to me. Everyone should. “Oh.”

“Training starts at eight and goes to one. Come well fed and in something warm. The top of the House is colder.”

Neither of us said anything else as he left me to unpack.

______

Some weeks later I had taken Cassian up on his offer. Him and Nesta were great at kicking my ass and telling me about it. This side of both of them was far different than the ones I had seen. Here, Cassian wasn’t a prick. He was an instructor, teaching me how to defend my life and my honor. Nesta was… less Nesat. She channeled this otherworldly presence and became one with her weapon.

Me on the other hand… it was far more difficult. Fighting and battle wasn’t rooted in my blood like it was for Cassian. It was much harder for me to get it but I sorta did. Sorta. 

“Just keep working on that footwork and it’ll help with the sword placement. If you’re solid by the end of the week, I’ll put a real one in your hands,” Cassian grinned, chucking me my practice weapon. 

It brought a quick smile to my face. As fast as it was there it was gone. Like most these days. 

When I got home, I rifled through my closet. Brown and green and cream colored shirts after another. Where was that Night Court Blue one I had gotten a long time ago? I could’ve sworn I plucked it from the pile on the floor- no, that was a towel. I was planning on wearing it to dinner at the River House tonight for Mor’s birthday.

Oh, Yn has it. I had given it to her to wear for a meeting with a realtor when looking at properties. She had tucked it into this black leather skirt.

I’ll swing by on my way to the party to get it. Mor always liked the color on me, and said it brought out the fire in my hair. She’ll appreciate the gesture.

After a shower and some other outfit choices, I can’t help but want that blue shirt. I’ll just go get it.

Through the falling leaves, I make my way down the street, across it, and to the meadow. There are six or seven houses with smoke billowing out of their chimneys. But there, right in the distance, is her house. She’ll be at her restaurant tonight so I know I’m safe. 

I scurry up the path, still worried about being seen for some reason. 

Has it been easy these past couple weeks? No. I haven’t been able to think of anything but her. Or dream of anything but her. It’s awful. Not her, but the fact that somehow, someway, she is still everywhere I am. In those memories in the darkest part of the night. The darkest part of my mind reserved for her and her only. 

I hadn’t dared to go visit Elain. I don’t feel the need anymore. Which is relieving and frightening at the same time. It’s like there is a gaping hole in my heart that nothing will fill. Not even training. It proves a good secondary distraction, but nothing can suppress the primary guilt I feel every waking–

What is that smell? I stopped just shy of the door, key in hand. It wants to smell like the rest of the smoke and ash wafting into the air from the nearby cabins, but it’s… more alive? What if she left the stove on? Or a candle? There are hints of woods mixed into it, but not the type of woodsy scent from pine or maple logs. 

I jam the key in as fast as I can to unlock the door. What if she left the fireplace burning or had an electrical fire or-

In the span of five seconds, three things happened. One: Yn was here. And she looked so beautiful. Her eyes are bright and full of color. Two: she was being held by someone, his hands on her cheeks. Three: boiling rage shot through when I realized who it was.

Eris.

~~~~~~~~~

Part 3

[weepingtalecowboy]

While bing watching troll hunters again I realized that during recipe for disaster

Claire genuinely thought about the letter and discussed it with Darci and maybe Mary as well

This motivated her to figure out what Jim lake's deal was

And nearly discover draal chilling in the lake's basement

But like she would by this point know that Strickler is out for harm , at least towards Jim

And that would put so much context for all his actions and behaviors she could pick up on mistakenly

Like For her Jim lake was a nobody in class who was stricklers favorite (even if you didn’t know anything about your classmates you always know who they are the favorite of ) she tried to invite him to get another kid for the play after he approached her

A nobody who she and a few others saved from getting killed by Steven because of his friend starting a chant to make him stop being a jerk

Until he joined and got Romeo in pretty high quality armor for this occasion and a very inspiring monologue for his role

Then she noticed him missing rehearsals way too often and spoke to him about it

This is when he began getting perceived negatively by her and getting attention from her because of his lack of appearing on rehearsals

That was the moment that made her realize something is happening with him and Toby she just doesn’t understand

And now she actively tried to figure out what is going on

She comes up more and catches more moments that make her suspicious of them

Steven getting punched by the nobody in class after Jim didn’t appear for the initial fight (even more suspicious that Toby said someone else beat him up she could have heard in passing rumors …Marcy is her friend for reasons )

Him staying at home during the Spanish exam

Getting arrested for entering the museum to retrieve something (she probably heard from rumors or Darci because of her dad)

Jim not coming during school one day without any reason prior to having given her a letter that can only be interpreted as a cry for help (well fighting draal is a reason but she wouldn’t know)

Throwing a party (?) nobody came for yet her house was wreaked by Jim and maybe Toby yet when confronted about it Jim seemed like he was lying about there being a party

Jim being nervous about something during his birthday and all but begging her to let him drive home with her parents (even if she by that point probably doesn’t even know it was his birthday lol)

Jim being on drugs (?) or other influences and being a general embarrassment to society a bit later (which in context with his fear during his birthday would have different implications because why switch from fear to some kind of influence… it is just weird)

Then when she feels like he might genuinely have some sort of issues she hears Strickler wanting to speak with Jim for a moment while Jim seemed genuinely uncomfortable with being alone with him… which feels incredibly unsettling because he was Strickler's favorite after all

It gets worse when she heard him say that Strickler will go visit him at home and Jim asked Toby to go search his teacher's office for some sort of evidence,… which out of context is incredibly weird and very unusual especially because he outright said that Strickler will be busy with him

And if they get evidence Strickler will be gone or something

Like yeah it sounds very very bad out of context

So she investigates the house and breaks into his basement to listen in

And finds out that Jim and Strickler are busy threatening eachother

Then confrontation seems to start or something

And before she can figure it out she passes out

So when the next episode Jim breaks into her room and tells her she is in danger she probably went with him because if he thinks she is in danger he probably knows something

Which is what makes this side plotline so intriguing because Claire was very logical about her concerns

The first season from Claire’s perspective has great fanfiction values because it is so interesting

[guilty-pleasures21]

Best friend's brother Miguel

Hey guys! So, I based this one off this fic I anonymously requested from one of my ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE writers - @exhaslo - and my inspiration on this website. Please check out her account if you enjoy my writing. I hope you enjoy!

Part 1 - the past

Part 2 - the present

Part 3 - the future

Warnings: None. Just a little sweet and fluffy one.

_______________________________________________

Gabe stood at the counter facing the wall, scraping the butter and sugar off the sides of the mixing bowl before starting the machine up again. “Do you have to separate the eggs like that?”

X ignored the annoyed tone in his voice, letting the white flow from the crack in the eggshell before setting it down and starting on the other one. “Yes! It’s how you make the perfect vanilla cupcake. Trust me! I’ve perfected the receipt!”

Gabe rolled his eyes at his best friend’s proclamation and sighed. “Whatever you say.”

“Just wait ‘til you taste it!” X insisted, turning around to set the bowl of egg whites down by the mixer. “It practically melts in your mouth!” She grabbed the eggshells off the kitchen island and emptied the yolks into the mixer bowl, letting the machine stir the yellow liquid into the creamy mixture of butter and sugar.

“What melts in your mouth?” Miguel asked, strolling into the kitchen. X looked up when she heard his voice, her stomach flipping with excitement as she peeked over at him, her best friend’s older brother. She lowered her gaze quickly when he stopped by the fridge, trying to hide the nervous expression on her face.

“This vanilla cupcake recipe X has ‘perfected’,” Gabe replied, too focused on the mixer to notice X’s reaction. She leaned over to look him in the eyes, her expression serious.

“If you don’t want to help, Gabe, I can always find someone else to partner with for the bake stall.”

“I’ll partner with you,” Miguel volunteered, setting the bottle of milk down on the kitchen island. He glanced up at X, flashing her a mischievous smirk. She gulped at the look and quickly turned away, grabbing the bag of flour beside her to start measuring it out.

“Ugh! Please!” Gabe scoffed. “You’d probably just start messing around with the other guys and then leave poor X all alone!” He took the cup of flour X was holding out to him and tossed it into the mixing bowl while the machine continued whirring away. Miguel let out an offended scoff as he walked over to get a glass from the cupboard.

“I would never leave X all alone!” he argued, leaning over her to open the cupboard door, intentionally pressing his chest against her back as he reached up and pulled out a glass. “Isn’t that right, chica?” She gripped onto the edge of the table, trying to stop the shiver from running down her spine at the feeling of his low voice murmuring in her ear.

“Sure,” she mumbled softly, her tone barely managing to hold the sarcasm she intended it to. Miguel set his glass down and placed his hands on the counter around X, trapping her beneath him.

“How could you have such little faith in me, X?” he asked her, his voice laced with fake hurt. She didn’t respond, too busy trying to steel herself against the way his breath tickled the back of her neck as he spoke, the spicy, masculine scent of him surrounding her the same way his arms did. She snuck a glance over at Gabe, hoping he wouldn’t find anything suspicious about the way the two of them were interacting. He kept his gaze fixed on the mixing bowl, stopping the whisks to start scraping the mixture off the sides again.

“Leave her alone, Miggy,” he chastised Miguel, pretending to be completely oblivious to the tension between his older brother and his best friend. They hadn’t said anything about it yet, so he wouldn’t either. Although he was getting pretty tired of having to act like he didn’t know anything about it.

“But you just told me not to!” Miguel pointed out, still wrapped around X. Gabe sighed and chucked his shoulder into Miguel’s arm, shoving him aside. His brother held his hands up in surrender, then grabbed his glass before backing away from X.

“¡Vale, vale!” he relented, returning to the island to pour himself some milk. X took in a breath, relieved at being able to breathe again, and leaned over the mixer to take a look at Gabe’s work. She nodded, satisfied, then removed the bowl, replacing it with the egg whites so Gabe could start working on them instead. She was so cute, Miguel thought to himself, his eyes drifting over the curves of her hips and ass and trailing down her bare legs as he watched her lean over the countertop. He turned back to the fridge, returning the milk to its original position.

“Oh, wait!” X stopped him, running over to him quickly. “We need the milk!” She stopped when she reached him, fluttering her curly eyelashes up at him pleadingly, and he grinned. He bent over to sneak a glance at Gabe, making sure his younger brother was still completely focused on his egg whites before he took a step back, guiding X further behind the open fridge door. She stretched onto her toes, trying to grab the milk bottle from Miguel, but he raised his arm, holding it high out of her reach. She frowned at him, huffing in annoyance before folding her arms across her chest, her rosy lips twisting down into a pretty little pout. Mierda, she was cute when she was mad. Miguel smiled and leaned forward, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he silently demanded her for a kiss.

What was he doing?! What if Gabe saw?! Her stomach fizzed with nerves at the thought, but she stretched up and pressed her lips to his quickly, praying that Gabe wouldn’t be able to see them behind the open fridge door. Miguel opened his eyes and grinned at her, finally handing over the milk bottle to her, and she felt her heart skip a beat at his smile. She lowered her head as she snatched the bottle, trying to hide her own smile as she scurried back over to Gabe, her heart thudding with excitement at what she’d just done.

Mierda, she was so cute when she was flustered, her lips curling into that sweet little smile meant just for him. It was too bad that she was still too afraid to tell his brother about them: he didn’t want to hide their relationship anymore, sneaking in a kiss or touch whenever they were sure that no one was looking. No, he wanted to grab her hand and twine her fingers with his, showing her off to the whole world, his precious little girlfriend. He sighed and took a seat at the island, tugging his glass closer to him.

“So?” Miguel asked, licking off the strip of milk he could feel coating his upper lip. “When can I expect my cupcake?” X turned around to face him and he met her gaze, fixing her with a teasing look over the rim of his glass. She lowered her eyes quickly, biting down on her lip to hide that shy smile he loved so much, and he decided then and there that that was going to be his new nickname for her.

“Your cupcake?!” Gabe repeated, scoffing in disbelief. “You can buy it from our stall tomorrow like everyone else.” Miguel grinned at the response and turned to X, injecting his features with as much helplessness as he could possibly muster.

“X?” he pleaded, sticking his lower lip out in a pout. She gulped at the sight, trying to come up with a response. Then, she smiled, her lips curling wickedly at the ends before she leaned over the island, resting her chin in the palms of her hands as she looked up at him.

“I’ll give you a two for one special if you bring all the guys from the football and basketball teams,” she promised him, fluttering her eyelashes up at him mischievously. He smiled, unable to help himself - Dios, she was cute.

“¿Para ti, mi cupcake? Siempre.” (For you, my cupcake? Always.) He raised his glass, downing the rest of his drink and Gabe groaned.

“Ugh! You’re so gross, Migs,” he scolded him, rolling his eyes at his brother’s words. Miguel gestured to X with his glass.

“X doesn’t have a problem with it! Do you, cupcake?” She wrinkled her nose at him, then turned back around to add the vanilla extract and baking powder. Miguel took advantage of the moment to admire her ass, his thoughts drifting to how he’d like to give it a little squeeze before spinning her around and trapping her against the kitchen counter, holding her in place while he kissed her. He loved kissing her, her legs curled around his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, his own hands running up and down her sides as she explored his mouth with her tongue. She was so slow and careful with her touches, always pulling back whenever he got a little too excited. But he didn’t mind - he wanted her to be comfortable with him; to feel safe with him in the same way she always made him feel safe, bringing food over whenever their mother was having one of her headaches, staying back in the library with him and Gabe when they were too afraid to go home and face their father, dragging them over to her house every time the fighting got too bad for him to handle. He protected Gabe, but she protected him. He stood up and went over to the sink to wash his glass, placing it on the drying rack before leaning against the counter behind X. “You sure you don’t need any more help?”

She turned to look up at him, thinking. She didn’t want him to go back up to his room, sitting alone at his desk while she and Gabe messed around downstairs. Besides being her secret boyfriend that she absolutely adored, he was her friend too, and she loved him just as much as she loved Gabe - just as much as she loved her own siblings. She swivelled back around to grab the mixing bowl, then held it out to him, gesturing from him to steal a taste. He raised his eyebrows, but dipped his finger into the batter, licking it up before pursing his lips in thought.

“Well?” she asked him when he continued to remain silent. “How is it?”

He grinned. “Delicioso.”

Gabe felt his lips curl at the ends as he watched the way his brother’s eyes lit up every time they landed on X. He was a good person, his brother, always looking out for him and putting his needs before his own. But he was always so serious, so responsible, and Gabe sometimes felt guilty that he’d had to miss out on his childhood just to make sure that his younger brother had one. So of course he’d been glad when Miguel and X had finally started dating, his best friend easing some of the tension off his brother’s shoulder so that he could finally relax and start acting like every other teenage boy his age. He just couldn’t figure out why they wouldn’t tell him yet.

X bounced on her toes, delighted by Miguel’s reaction, then moved the mixing bowl to the island, where she’d already set out the baking tray. “Okay, I’m going to need you guys to fill up the tray with the cupcake holders, then we’ll start pouring the batter in. One spoon should be enough for each, because it’s going to rise when it starts baking.”

She left the two of them to fill up the tray and prep the cupcakes, turning back around to the counter to begin working on the frosting herself.

One month ago.

Gabe winced as he heard something being thrown across the room, the sound barely muffled by Miguel’s closed door. He glanced over at his brother, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, his ears shielded by the large headphones he’d put on. He always snuck into his brother’s room when it got too loud, the fighting. Miguel would close the door behind him, then go turn on his computer, setting his little brother down in front of it and letting him play whatever games he liked while he himself blocked out the sounds with his music. Gabe turned back to the desk and picked up his phone, shooting off a message to X. ‘They’re fighting again.’

‘Are you safe?’ she replied immediately.

‘Yup,’ Gabe reassured her. ‘In Mig’s room. He’s here w me.’

‘How’s he doing?’

‘Got his headphones on.’ X bit her lip at the response, knowing it must have been really bad for Gabe to message her during the fight. She got up from the sofa and ran over to her mum, quickly finding her in the guest room.

“Mum?” she called out to her. Her mother looked up from her sewing machine, glasses sitting low on her nose.

“Yes, darling?”

“Gabe’s parents are fighting again,” she confided in her. “Can I ask them to come over? Just to play some games and stuff?”

“I’m fine with it, but you better tell your father first,” she warned her. X’s stomach churned at the thought. “Have they had dinner yet?” She looked back down at her phone.

‘My mum’s asking if you’ve had dinner yet,’ she asked Gabe.

‘Yup.’

“Yup,” she repeated to her mother, looking up from her phone. Her mother nodded approvingly and X went off to find her father. She peered around the doorway of his study, trying to gauge his mood - it was better when he was in a good mood, though he usually said yes to Gabe and Miguel coming over anyway.

“Papa?” she called out, creeping into the room carefully. He hummed in question and she relaxed, her shoulder slumping with relief at the friendly sound: he was fine. She moved closer to him. “Is it okay if Gabe and Miguel come over? We’ll just play some games and watch a movie! We won’t disturb anyone!” Her father frowned and turned to look at her.

“So late?” he questioned. X shifted in position uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze.

“Their parents are fighting again,” she revealed to him. “I’m just scared they’ll get hurt.”

“Okay,” he relented, turning back to his computer. “Tell them to bring their clothes if they want to sleep over. It’s a Saturday anyway.” X bounced on the balls of her feet in excitement.

“Thanks Papa!” She leaned over to give him a hug, then ran back downstairs, sharing the good news with Gabe. Then she pulled up her chat with Miguel.

‘Are you busy?’ she asked.

A notification popped up on his screen and his heart fluttered when he saw X’s name there. He sat up and sighed, a wave of relief washing over him as he replied to her. ‘No. What’s up?’

‘Want to watch a movie?’ He tapped on his phone, thinking. Gabe had probably told her then, that their parents were having yet another fight.

‘Now?’

'Yeah!’ she replied enthusiastically. ‘My dad said to just bring your stuff and sleep over.’

Miguel slid his gaze over to his younger brother, already watching him, waiting for his decision. His lips quirked at the eager look on Gabe’s face and he rolled his eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Pack your stuff. We’ll sneak out the front.”

They’d grabbed some snacks from the kitchen first, then gone to hang out with X’s younger sister and brother in the family room. The former had already been watching something on the TV while the latter was sat in front of the computer, eyes fixed on the screen as he played some shooter game. Miguel and X had pulled the sofa out into a bed and the two of them had settled on it next to X’s sister while Gabe jumped onto the bean bag. They’d joked and laughed as they watched one Disney movie after another, the minutes ticking by as they all sat together. X looked over at the clock, noticing how late it was getting, then glanced over at her siblings, finding them already nodding off in their seats. She leaned over to give them each a little shake.

“Go to sleep,” she whispered, “it’s late.” They got up and began drowsily heading off to their bedroom, leaving Gabe space to bound onto the sofa and sink into it on X’s other side. She wriggled a little closer to Miguel, and he raised his arm, draping it over the back of the sofa so she had more space to squeeze in. They stayed like that a bit longer, all of them fighting to stay awake as the movie continued to play. Finally, Gabe lay down and turned over, curling the blanket around himself as he fell asleep entirely. X turned to Miguel, wanting to laugh about it with him, but found his eyes closed as well, his head propped up on his fist as he rested his elbow on the headrest behind her. He was cute when he was asleep, his eyes closed peacefully, his forehead smooth without the concern constantly furrowing his brows. She grabbed the remote to switch the TV off, yawning as she realised how exhausted she herself was. Then she reached over to the armrest to steady herself as she climbed over Miguel.

He’d felt some movement beside him and opened his eyes to find himself face to face with X, her lips twisting into a sheepish grin as she looked at him. He raised an eyebrow and she reached up to pat his cheek gently, her touch soft and reassuring.

“Go back to sleep,” she told him quietly. He sat up and wrapped his arms around her instead, turning them around so he was sitting on the edge of the bed with her in his lap. His arms stayed firmly around her as he sat there, trying to get the words out, to tell her that he loved her - he loved her - and he was so, so glad to have her in his life. But the words just continued to hover on the tip of his tongue, refusing to make themselves known.

She’d been surprised at first, when he’d curled his arms around her so tightly. But then she’d relaxed into the hug, wrapping her arms around his neck, his soft, wavy hair tickling her cheek as she gave him what he needed. Finally, he spoke, the words a hoarse whisper in her ear. “I’m really glad Gabe found you.”

He loosened his grip on her, enough for her to pull back and give him a pleased smile. “Thank you. I’m really glad I found you guys too.”

He held her for a moment longer, his eyes travelling over her sweet features as he built up the courage to ask her the question. “Can I kiss you?”

What? Her eyes widened in surprise, unsure if she’d heard him right. Then she smiled and lowered her head, trying to hide the curl of her lips at his request. Of course she wanted him to kiss her, of course she’d had a secret crush on him for ages, with his fiery eyes and his heart-stopping smile and his friendly and thoughtful demeanour. He was her first love, and she didn’t think she’d ever feel for anyone the same way she felt about him. Never.

“On the cheek?” she asked shyly, looking up at him again when he didn’t respond. He swallowed hard, his grip on her waist tightening as he sucked in a nervous breath. He shook his head.

Not on the cheek. Her lips parted in disbelief and she dug her fingers into his broad shoulders, her heart thudding rapidly in her chest in anticipation. She smiled again, then leaned forward slightly, closing her eyes as she waited.

He inhaled another breath, then licked his lips before leaning forward and pressing them against hers. She was soft and small beneath him, and he felt the tension ease from his body as her familiar strawberry scent washed over him. He’d never kissed anyone before, but it felt nice; intimate - like a way he could tell her how much he really loved her without actually having to say it out loud. He pulled back to gauge her reaction, but she stayed in position, eyes still closed, lips puckered up adorably. So he kissed her again, just as gentle, just as light, then he gave her a final quick peck before sitting back.

He felt nice, his lips lush and soft against hers, and she felt like she’d float into the air at any second, her stomach bubbling with happiness as it was. She blinked her eyes open slowly, his handsome face coming back into focus before her: his deep-set eyes, his thick brows, his chiselled features. She grinned and he smiled as well, soft and shy, his sharp canines pressing into his bottom lip. Her toes curled at the sight and she leaned forward again, wrapping her arms back around him. “I really like you, Miguel.”

He ran his fingers along her back, stroking her tenderly. “I really like you too, X.”

Present day.

It was the day of the charity event - the fair they held in their school every year to raise money for whatever organisation their school had collectively agreed on that year - and Miguel had gathered his teammates around him in a group huddle.

“All right,” he began, putting on his captain’s voice, “you guys are going to go out there and make sure my girl … ‘s stall is empty by the end of the day.” ¡Ay, mierda! He’d almost called her his girlfriend! In front of everyone! When she’d specifically told him not to! Not until they’d told Gabe, at least.

“Your girl? Oooh!” Ben nudged Peter playfully, wiggling his eyebrows at him suggestively as he teased Miguel. Miguel rolled his eyes and shot Ben an exasperated look.

“We’re just messing with you, Miguel,” Peter chuckled playfully, taking a brief pause. Then, “we already know she’s your girl.” The group of boys broke into laughter once again. Miguel groaned, pushing them to get them to start moving.

“Just go,” he chided them, following behind as they formed a line to go to X’s stall. She looked up when they came, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she saw the entire under 18’s basketball team line up by her stall.

“Two cupcakes, please!” Hobie requested, holding out the required number of tickets once she’d given Ben his order. She grabbed the tickets and handed them to Gabe before picking up two of the cupcakes and passing them over to Hobie.

“What are you guys all doing here?” she asked them curiously. Hobie grinned and gestured to the back of the line.

“Miguel said to make sure his girl’s stall is empty by the end of the day,” he informed X, causing her cheeks to heat up with embarrassment. She leaned over to sneak a glance at Miguel, her eyes lighting up when they landed on him. He smiled back at her, giving a small wave in greeting as he flashed her a proud look.

“Two cupcakes, please,” he ordered, handing her his tickets once he’d reached the front of the line. He leaned over and shot her a mischievous smirk before adding, “and I believe I was promised an extra?” She wrinkled her nose, pretending to be annoyed by the flirtatious tone he always took with her, but he could see the way she’d pressed her lips together to stop her smile as she gave him his three cupcakes.

“Gracias, mi cupcake,” he teased her playfully, causing some of the guys to shoot him puzzled looks.

“‘Mi cupcake’?” Ben repeated, lips twitching with amusement. “Did he just call her his cupcake?!”

“Yeah!” Pavitr confirmed, punching Ben in the arm lightly. “That’s his girl, Ben! What do you expect?” Miguel rolled his eyes as the guys broke into laughter, but he kept his attention fixed on X as he watched for her response. She slid her gaze over to Gabe, biting her lip in apprehension as she awaited his reaction. Gabe threw his hands in the air and groaned.

“Ugh! I know, okay!” he revealed finally, unable to take it any longer. “Just … make it official already! Or something.”

Her eyes widened with surprise at Gabe’s confession and she turned to him fully. “You knew?! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“I was waiting for you to say something!” he chastised her. She glanced up at Miguel, looking to him for backup, but he just held his hands up in defence.

“Don’t look at me! You were the one who said you wanted to keep it a secret until you told Gabe!” he accused her.

“‘A secret’?!” Ben repeated, serious now. “Wait. You mean you guys are actually dating? Oooh!” The guys broke into a cheer, clapping Miguel on the back in congratulations at the news. X turned back to Gabe.

“How did you know?” He sighed.

“Besides how obvious you guys make it,” he began, his expression softening as he looked at the two of them, “he’s my brother and you’re my best friend. Of course I knew.” He shrugged nonchalantly, the matter resolved as easily as that. X lowered her head, her lips curling into a sheepish smile. Then she straightened and punched Miguel on the arm, trying to get rid of the heat burning her cheeks.

“I told you you were being too obvious!” she scolded him.

“Oh no no no no no,” Gabe wagged his finger at her, stopping her in her tracks. “Miguel was fine. You were the one who was so giggly whenever he was around.” Gabe fluttered his eyelashes and curled into himself in a perfect imitation of X, his voice rising in pitch as he copied her.

“Oh, hi Miguel! Can you help me with my homework? You guys want to come over today? We can just hang out and stuff! Good job at the game yesterday, Miguel, you were so good!” X frowned and punched him in the arm instead, putting more force into the action this time.

“Ow!” Gabe exclaimed, rubbing his arm as he glared up at her. Miguel grinned and leaned over the table to press a kiss to X’s cheek, overcome by happiness at the knowledge that they didn’t need to hide their relationship any longer. X’s lips parted in surprise and she clenched her fists as she lowered her head, her lips twisting into an embarrassed smile as the guys cheered Miguel on.

“Um, thanks for coming guys!” she told the team before plopping back down into her seat, steadfastly avoiding Miguel’s gaze.

“Cupcake.” He waited until she looked up at him before continuing. “You’re going to come by the haunted house later, right? To support your boyfriend?” His lips stretched wide as he rested his hands on the table, his excitement at finally getting to call himself that in front of everyone drowning out the sounds of yet another round of hollers behind him.

She curled into herself shyly, her cheeks catching on fire as she fidgeted with her hands. Her boyfriend! He’d called himself that! In front of everyone! It really was official now. She brushed her hair behind her ear, her eyes staying fixed on the ground as she replied. “You know I get scared, Miguel.”

“You don’t have to get scared, princesa: I’ll be there.” He leaned over the table, trying to catch her gaze. “I’ll even hold your hand if you want me to.” She groaned in irritation as the guys whooped at that, trying not to smile again.

“Ugh! Fine! I’ll come, I’ll come!” She sat up and waved her hands at him, trying to shoo him away with the rest of the guys. “Go!”

“Hasta luego, cupcake.” (See you later, cupcake.) Miguel shot her a naughty wink, then left.

She picked at the skin around her nails as she waited in line with her friends, nervous. “I don’t know, guys. Is it really scary?”

“It’s fine! Don’t worry!” MJ reassured her. Then she wiggled her eyebrows at X and gave her a playful shove. “Besides, your boyfriend will be there to protect you.” X rolled her eyes at the statement, her lips pulling back in a grin.

“Oh my god, yeah!” Gwen exclaimed suddenly. “How come you never told us?! How long have guys even been dating? Like, actually?”

X twirled her hair around her finger as she thought about it. “Um, like, a month?”

“What?!” Gwen and MJ exclaimed together, the news a shock to them both. X winced guiltily at their reactions.

“I was just scared to tell Gabe!” she admitted. “I didn’t want him to think I was going to choose Miguel over him or something.”

“So? What did he say?” MJ asked, curious to find out more.

“He said he already knew! He was just waiting for us to tell him!” MJ rolled her eyes amusement at that.

“You guys,” she sighed, knowing them all too well by now. She’d been X’s friend even before Gabe and Miguel had moved to the neighbourhood and X spent almost as much time with her as she did with Gabe.

“Hey!” Peter greeted the three of them when they’d reached the front of the line. “X! You came!” X brushed her hair behind her ear and glanced up at him quickly.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Miguel!” Peter twisted his head back, calling out to Miguel somewhere inside the haunted house. “Your girlfriend is here.” MJ and Gwen giggled at that, both of them nudging her teasingly. It wasn’t long before Miguel himself bounded out of the room, his eyes lighting up in excitement when he saw X waiting for him.

“You came!”

“Yeah,” she told him, like it should have been obvious that she would have come. “You said you wanted me to support you.” He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She always supported him when he asked, and even when he didn’t, going to all of his games and sitting on the sidelines, cheering him on right next to his brother.

“Miguel!” she whined, curling up against him once he’d loosened his grip on her slightly.

“¿Si, mi cupcake?” he asked her, refusing to let her go just yet. But she wriggled out of his arms, taking a step away from him and setting her features into a serious expression.

“Let’s go.” She nodded to the entrance and he grabbed her hand, gesturing for her friends to follow behind.

“Come on. It’s really good, trust me.”

X pulled her phone out of her pocket, clicking in the message she'd received.

“Oh! My mum's on the field!” she informed Miguel, looking up at him as he walked down the corridor with her. “She said my cousins are doing the bouncy castle. They're probably going to head back soon.”

She smiled as another message came through, squeezing Miguel's hand where it was still firmly clasped around hers. “She says they tried to find me in the canteen, but my stall was already closed!"

She grinned up at him again and his heart leapt at the sight, his stomach bubbling at the adoring look on her face. The look he'd put there. He swung their hands lightly as they continued walking. “You want to go see them?”

“Can you … Do you want to meet my aunt? She's really nice!” She brushed her thumb across the back of his hand reassuringly, her smile turning a little nervous as she waited for his answer. Of course she wanted him to meet her family, of course she wanted to show him off, her sweet and smart boyfriend that she was so proud of and adored so very much. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Of course!” he agreed, gesturing for her to lead the way. She squealed with delight and pulled him down the corridor, racing over to her family.

“X!” Her aunt shrieked when she saw her. She held her arms out and X barreled into them, squeezing her tight.

“Masi! How was your trip?” (Aunt!)

“It was fine,” her aunt reassured her before gesturing to her three young kids. “They were mostly just sleeping on the bus.”

“Penji!” her cousins screamed, swarming her and tackling her with their small forms. (Older sister!)

“We came to find you in the canteen, but you’d already sold out?” her mum asked her, curious. X gestured to Miguel, suddenly shy.

“Yeah! Miguel got all the guys from the basketball and football teams to come buy my stuff!” Miguel stepped forward to give X’s mum a hug - a greeting that had become a habit as he’d opened up to her more over time - then he held his hand out to X’s aunt.

“Hi aunty, it’s nice to meet you,” he greeted her politely. “X talks about you all the time. I’m Miguel.” Her aunt reached forward to shake his hand, her lips stretched into that same wide smile that X always wore.

“Hello, Miguel, nice to meet you too!” She shot X a mischievous look. “What a handsome young man!” Her youngest daughter turned to X, eyes wide.

“Is he your boyfriend?” She gasped at her own question and her siblings smacked her on the arm, sneaking glances over at Miguel as they waited for X’s answer. She shifted nervously in position, glancing over at her mother meaningfully - X always told her mother everything.

“Um, yeah,” her lips curled at the corners as she said it. “He … His younger brother is my best friend! So, we were friends first and everything.”

“Did you tell Gabe yet?” X’s mother asked her, features scrunched up in concern. X nodded.

“Well, he said he already knew anyway. So … yeah.” She bit her lip, her cheeks aching from how much she kept smiling.

“Did he say anything?” her mother continued. “Is he okay with it?” She liked how happy Miguel made her daughter, the two of them always finding comfort in one another’s presence. She was an anxious girl, her daughter, and it had been a relief when she’d found a good young man who took care of her properly. She just worried what would happen once Miguel went to university - he was a year older, after all, so they’d have to spend almost as long apart from one another.

“He was fine,” Miguel reassured her. “He said he was just waiting for us to tell him.” Her mother turned to X, a knowing expression on her face.

“See? I told you he’d be fine!” X nodded enthusiastically, smiling happily. Then she turned to her cousins.

“Have you guys done the dunk tank yet?” she asked them.

“Oh! Coach Matthews is doing it!” Miguel pointed out to X. He turned to X’s cousins. “You guys want to try? I can help you!”

X nodded in agreement. “Miguel’s captain of the basketball team. And he’s also on the football team too! He’s really good at sports!”

The kids agreed and Miguel and X led them over to the dunk tank.

“Miguel?” Coach Matthews called out when he saw him approach. “I think there’s a rule against athletes being allowed to do the dunk tank.” He chuckled at his own joke.

“Oh no. I’m just here with my girlfriend’s cousins.” He gestured to X and she waved at Coach Matthews shyly. His eyes widened in surprise.

“You two?!” He was the football coach for both the official school team and the casual after-school club - which X was a part of - so he knew both of them pretty well. He’d watch quietly as Miguel stayed back after his own practice to train with X, partnering up with her on the drills, filling in as goalie when one of the other girls couldn’t make it - even though he was absolutely hopeless at the role, being a striker himself - and they always looked so happy together, the older boy finally finding relief in the smaller girl’s presence. He knew about Miguel’s parents, of course - all the teachers did, all of them making sure to keep an eye out for him in case he needed anything. He was always so quiet, so responsible, and his coach was glad that he had at least one person he confided in. “Finally! I was getting tired of waiting!”

“Coach!” X scoffed incredulously, her jaw dropping in surprise. He grinned and pointed a finger at Miguel accusingly.

“At least I don’t have to watch all the other girls try to flirt with you at practice anymore,” Coach Matthews teased him. X punched Miguel on the arm and he flashed her a sheepish smile before giving her a side hug. Their coach continued. “But stay focused on your studies, all right? I don’t want to see you guys mucking about.”

X straightened and gave him a salute. “Yes, sir!”

Coach Matthews sighed. “Just drown me already.”

The kids tried, one after another, each doing their best to throw the ball hard enough to dunk Coach Matthews and all of them failing miserably.

“Wait,” Miguel stopped X’s youngest cousin before she could take her final throw. He bent down to whisper something in her ear, then looked at her in question, waiting until she nodded in agreement before straightening up again. “Okay. Ready? One, two, three!” He picked her up in his arms and ran to the button, holding her up so she could smash the ball right into it, dunking Coach Matthews straight into the water. Then he set her back down and kneeled by her side to give her a high five.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” Coach Matthews accused them once he’d swam back up to the surface.

“You asked us to dunk you!” Miguel pointed out jokingly. His coach rolled his eyes as he climbed out of the tank.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you at practice on Monday, Miguel.” He shot him a warning look, hinting at the revenge he’d be bestowing upon Miguel on Monday. Miguel just grinned and waved after his retreating figure.

“See you on Monday, Coach!” He turned back around to X. “You want to go help with cleanup now?”

“Sure." She shrugged. She turned to face her cousins. “You guys go home first. We have to clean everything up.” Her cousins sighed in disappointment, but started making their way back to their mother, saying goodbye to Miguel before they left. He returned his attention to X, brows furrowed in concern.

“Do you think they like me?” She grinned and grabbed his wrist.

“More than me, probably.” She let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be offended by the thought. “You’re too cool, Miguel.”

He raised his eyebrows and slipped his fingers between hers. “I don’t hear anyone else complaining.”

X rolled her eyes, but smiled as she tugged him towards the stairs. “Let’s go. Haunted house?”

Miguel nodded and they made their way back up, hands intertwined, the two of them grinning happily at one another the entire time.

[yuuuume]

cooking with the lieutenants

| 1 | ?

characters; nanao ise, genshiro okikiba, renji abarai, yuyu yayahara

requested; yes (ty bb this was so cute i'll be taking reqs for the next batch!)

rating; safer than a protected pc

@potatoq-een asked; Hi! New follower. Here to show support and maybe a... Suggestion? I don't like to call it a request... Just... Do it if you like the idea and if it inspires you. After all the rambling the idea: [drums please] cooking!! I'm so curious about how the lieutenants manage that part of their daily life with their s/o. Do they cook for their s/o? Do they let their s/o cook for them? ¿Maybe they do it together? ¿Or let the cooking be done by someone else? Idk, just thinking its a good prompt for some fluff. Do what you please with the idea. I'd be happy to read whatever comes out of this. Thank you for reading and be happy.

伊勢七緒・nanao ise

I am under the assumption that Nanao doesn’t really know how to cook. At least, not full blown elaborate meals. Her rice cooker and crock pot are her best friends before you. Having to deal with Shunsui all day along with her typical lieutenants duties leaves Nanao with little time and patience to cook big meals. However she eats well and you come to learn that when helping her prepare one morning. Nanao enjoys coming home to warm stews in the winter. As for summer, she’ll eat anything that won’t heat the kitchen too much. She doesn’t strike me as someone who would eat out often if I’m being honest. Nanao is a weekly grocery shopper with recipes in mind so she knows what to buy, she’s a bit particular about this aspect of her life because again, she’s typically a busy bee. Your help is a relief to her, especially when you work less hours. A bonus if you know how to cook and don’t mind it either. You get to go with her on the weekly grocery shopping trips and make suggestions for the menu because she’ll always consider your thoughts too. The daily chore slowly becomes one of your guys’ favorite quality time activities. At least, a close second to your first favorite.

沖牙源志郎・genshiro okikiba

I don’t think anyone in this fandom cares about this guy but honestly when I see an old man, my coochie goes into overdrive so I’m including him. Anyways, I feel like since Genshiro is older he’s a bit more traditional, meaning he expects you to stay home while he is the breadwinner. So naturally that means majority of the cooking is left to you. On his days off I like to think he would be by your side as you cook, a spectator. Genshiro may be an older, more traditional man but he is thankful for your work, knowing it is not easy or much fun cooking meals every day. He slowly starts to welcome the idea of takeout and food delivery once in a while since he feels asking you to teach him to cook would be too much of a burden on you. Even if you insist on working for whatever reason, if you two are in a relationship, Genshiro has the same expectation that you’d be the one cooking. Boomer expectations, you know?

阿散井 恋次・renji abarai

Renji is the only King in the Seireitei okay. Soul King? Mid. Renji throws it down in the kitchen like everyday is Thanksgiving. He will take full charge of cooking because he loves you (not because you’d get in the way like… totally not…). If you’re feeling under the weather he has the best soup recipe from when he and Rukia were younger, surviving out in Rukon District. It was one of his survival skills, to be fairly honest and one he never would have expected to become a hobby. He assures you that he doesn’t mind cooking, mostly because he loves the way your eyes practically roll every time he makes that one dish you love so, so much. You can certainly wash the dishes afterward. Also, he totally wears those corny ‘Kiss the chef’ aprons. You’ll do it anyway to show your appreciation. However if one day you insist on cooking, he’ll acquiesce and relax. Just because he’s used to cooking doesn’t mean he won’t accept some of yours! Whether you’re a good or bad cook, he always puts his best foot forward and makes sure you don’t lose faith in your culinary journey. Definitely has an album on his instagram saved tab that is strictly recipes.

八々原熊如・yuyu yayahara

Be so for real, you two would blow up the kitchen just by stepping into it. Or at least Yuyu would. She’s an absolute sucker for delivery services once they pop off in Soul Society. Honestly, that’s what half of her paycheck goes toward every two weeks but what’s not to love about it? On-demand healthy meals are such an insane concept for the soul reapers and once it finally landed in Soul Society, Yuyu has been on it and has no shame. Besides, she wouldn’t be up for cooking after work anyways. The hours are long and even with Lisa as a captain, its not as easy a job one might believe. She has your guys’ orders saved, you just need to tell Yuyu what you want for dinner and it’ll arrive shortly.

do not steal or repost my works anywhere

edit: i fixed renji’s section lol

© yuuuume

[the-au-collector]

Was inspired by reading some LU incorrect quotes about cooking to make this little braindump. So uh yeah have some “how good are the Links at cooking” headcanons:

Wild - resident chef, obviously. Very good cook. Was taught how to at the Dueling Peaks stable and it’s very relaxing for him to cook. He genuinely enjoys cooking and has recipes saved from all over his Hyrule. He will fight the others for cooking duty, both on the road and when they’re somewhere safe. He just loves to cook. Before the Calamity, though, he could not cook. At all. He was absolutely horrible at it. Flora was surprised when she learned he knew how to cook all of a sudden.

Twilight - can only make pumpkin stew. More often than not he’s eating food from Telma’s, stuff that doesn’t need to be cooked, or he hunts and eats as a wolf.

Sky - knows a few recipes. I feel like the Knight Academy would at least teach basic recipes, so he can handle himself on his own. It’s just not especially flavorful compared to Wild’s cooking. Also pumpkin stew. If he can he will make pumpkin stew.

Warriors - also was taught how to cook because he’s a Knight, but is still a danger in the kitchen. He makes some pretty infamous gruel. It’s really bad. Keep him out of the kitchen. He lost his taste buds during the War of Eras

Time - he theoretically can cook it’s just that he makes too much of a mess when doing it. He will drop everything, spill anything, and end up covered in ingredients despite actively trying to be clean. Time makes dinner time look like a bomb went off and it’s so much of a hassle to clean and honestly a bit of a waste, especially only for bad to mediocre meals at best. He can survive when Malon’s not home, but is his food good? No. No it’s not. As a kid he was hopeless. Luckily the puppy dog eyes worked like a charm as a kid. When he got older Talon eventually sat him down and taught him how to cook basic meals. Malon’s taught him a little too, but again. He just makes a mess

Hyrule - cannot cook. Was never taught and can’t teach himself since he was never taught to read. But he does know how to find edible food on the road. He’s a really good forager and that’s how he sustained himself on his journeys

Wind - can cook some things. Granny’s been teaching him how to cook. He knows Granny’s soup recipe but he insists he can never make it right so he never actually makes it. He can cook basic fish dishes but doesn’t have an arsenal of recipes. Usually it was down to whatever he could find for cheap in a store or fish himself during his adventures. I feel like Tetra’s ship has a cook so he doesn’t need to worry about food anymore. If he had the choice, though, he would live off Granny’s soup and nothing else

Four - Can cook. Probably the most reliable cook after Wild. He can make some fancy and genuinely good dishes. He just doesn’t particularly like the stress of cooking. Red’s always worried no one’s going to like it, Green wants to experiment, Vio wants to follow the recipe to a T, and Blue just wants everyone to shut up. I feel like during his journeys he used his age, and then his height, to his advantage to get free food whenever he could. I like to think he would help his grandpa cook whenever he could as a kid and thus actually learned how to cook

Legend - Can cook, but only in a kitchen. He never managed to get the hang of cooking over an open fire. Though while he can cook, I feel like he has a special preference for baking since his uncle would make apple tarts with him when he was little. During his earlier adventures, someone would usually cook for him (except for his first, he’d usually have to steal to get by) since he was still pretty young, but he slowly learned to cook over the course of his adventures. He learned a lot on Koholint specifically, so he knows a lot of seafood dishes though he doesn’t usually make those

[walker-extended-universe]

Like a Pheonix, We Rise, Chapter 3

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Relationship(s): Hoyt Rawlins & Cordell Walker, Abigail Walker & Cordell Walker, Cordell Walker & Original Characters

Tags/Warnings: Inspired by Jared's Cameo, Immortality, Immortal Cordell, Immortal Hoyt, Adoption, Grief/Mourning, Difficult Decisions, Character Death

Summary: Cordell just needs one more lifetime with his family.

Written for @yeehawgust Day 10: Undead Cowboy

Taglist: @theladywyn, @ihavepointysticks, @klaatu51, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

--------------

Cordell couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a mother.

He’s sure he had a biological mother at some point, but that was easily a millenia ago, if not longer. He didn’t remember anything about her, nor a father or any siblings he might have had. He didn’t remember anyone else who might have served a motherly role for him. Again, he was sure there must have been someone, some kind soul who wanted to take in a youngster with nowhere else to go.

But it had been a long time since he’d had something like that. It had just been him and Hoyt for years, to the point where they’d taken care not to die at the same time if they could help it.

Having a mother was strange. But Abigail Walker made a fine one and Cordell didn’t think he could ever repay her for that, nevermind her insistence that she was repaying him.

Abby treated him as one of her own children, something that didn’t change even after she actually had children of her own. She even brought Hoyt into the fold when he added another death to his tally 10 years later.

Cordell had 20 good years with Abby. He helped her start up the family ranch, looked after the little ones when days got busy (he had a particular fondness for her youngest daughter, Coraline), and even taught her a few of the recipes he’d picked up over the years. Then, his mind started wandering. He’d never stayed in one place for so long. He’d started to make friends and feel like part of the family. It should be a comfort but it just made him antsy. He could tell Hoyt was feeling it too, though neither of them would dare say it to Abby’s face.

At least she was literate. Leaving a note was always easier.

The immortal friends planned their departure in hush whispers under the light of the moon. There was no need to alert anyone to their plans. They packed some necessities and carefully penned a note expressing their gratitude.

It was almost too easy to leave when the night finally came. Hoyt and Cordell grabbed their bags and made their way to the door, leaving their note on the dining table on their way. Hoyt’s hand turned the knob and-

“Cordi? Where are you going?”

Cordell sighed and turned to see Coraline wiping the sleep dust out of her eyes. “I’m just going to check on the horses, sweetpea,” he said gently. “What are you doing up this late anyhow?”

Coraline sniffed. “I had a bad dream….”

Cordell’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. Here, let’s just get you back to bed, okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.” He cast an apologetic look to Hoyt over his shoulder and set his bag down so he could pick Coraline up.

He just couldn’t leave her with a bad dream like that. 

He stayed up until Coraline fell back asleep and promised Hoyt they’d try to leave again in a few days.

But in a few days, the family buggy broke and Cordell had to fix it, leaving him too tired to escape in the middle of the night. Then one of the older sons, Jared, fell ill and Cordell had to pick up his slack. Then there was a bad storm and Cordell had to help rebuild part of the barn and a few of their neighbors’ as well.

At least, he felt like he had to. Because this had become his home, his family, his friends.

He couldn’t just leave when they needed him, no matter how annoyed Hoyt got.

“You know this isn’t going to end well,” Hoyt told him one night. “They’re all gonna die one day and you’re going to be left alone. Again.”

“I know that,” he murmured. “I know. I just…. Aren’t you tired of running? Of constantly moving around, never having a place to just rest?”

“Yeah, but that’s just our life. We can’t have homes or families. We either have to leave or we get run out of town for being witches or demons or something. The longer we stay, the bigger the risk. You know that.”

He did know that. But that didn't keep him from hoping for the better.

“Would it be so bad to try, just this once?”

Hoyt sighed. “Look, you can get your heart broken if you want to. I can’t stop you. But I’m not gonna stick around longer than I have to.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying….” He sighed. “I’m saying I’m gonna go, but I’ll come visit you. If you want to stay, you can. I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I know how you get when you wanna do something. Just…. Be careful, okay?”

Cordell swallowed hard. They hadn’t split up since they found each other centuries ago. They had to be there for each other. No one else would be.

But now…. Now they were at an impasse. Cordell wanted to stay, to keep the life he’d started to build. And Hoyt wanted to leave, to keep going on as they always had. A part of Cordell wanted to follow his friend, just in case something happened to him.

But he really wanted to stay. He wanted to watch Coraline grow up and help Jared take over the ranch when Abby got too old. He wanted to help the neighbors with their harvest and share gossip with the Mulligan sisters at their store.

Just this once couldn’t hurt. Just one lifetime that felt normal couldn’t be so bad.

“Don’t stay away too long,” he requested. “I’ll…. I’ll miss you.”

Hoyt hugged him. “I’ll miss you too. I’ll always be around when you need me.”

The next day, Hoyt left, and Cordell stayed. Abigail understood and wished Hoyt well. She told Cordell that he would always have a place with her family, for as long as he wanted it.

So he stayed for a lifetime. He watched weddings and funerals pass by. He helped wrangle children and grandchildren and horses alike. He kept the ranch running when the others got ill and kept his distance from anyone who might want to make him an honest man.

It was one thing to become part of a family; it was another to be foolish enough to make his own.

About 20 years after Abigail Walker passed, Cordell had a bad horse accident. For the first time in a long time, he died alone. When he woke up again, he expected to still be alone. He expected that he would have to find his own way out and look for Hoyt again, as he always did.

He didn’t expect to find Coraline rocking him and humming a melody Abby used to sing.

Apparently, unbeknownst to him, Abigail had already passed on their story to her children. “She wanted you to always have a place here, if you wanted it,” Coraline explained. “You’re a part of the family, Cordi, no matter what.”

No one had ever done that for him before. Even the few others he had trusted with his secret were usually happy to see him on his way once he was no longer helpful. No one else had ever really wanted him around so badly before.

He decided then to stay one more lifetime. He couldn’t bear to break Coraline’s heart after such a  kindness.

One lifetime turned into two. Then three. Hoyt always floated in and out, offering to give him a ride out of town if he wanted it. And Cordell always thought about it. Part of him did miss running around the wild plains without a care in the world, living on the edge as if there was no tomorrow. 

But he had a life here. A home. A family, even. He wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

Just one more lifetime, he always told himself. One more lifetime, then I can go.

There would be plenty of lifetimes for him to run wild once he was done here. But for now, a little boy named Bonham needed a big brother to show him the ropes, and Cordell was more than up to the task.

[derangedanomaly]

i’m sorry cricket i will not be taking your man but i would like to be held and also he is pretty as are all of the boys >///< /lh /nm. fluffymare in return, here ya go! yugioh anon, back again >w<

summary: inspired by chaos’s love for making food, you try out making homemade ice cream for the summer. nightmare checks in on you and unsubtly flirts with you. he chats with you while you Create. implied relationship beforehand. can you tell i got tired at the end lol it is 6:30 am i need to sleep

Dry, heavy heat surrounds you as you step out of the lush courtyard and back into the house. Sweat shines on your forehead. Summer was lovely for gardening and exploring the outdoors, but that uncomfortable air following you inside every single time was one thing you could live without. Unluckily for you, you live in a house filled with skeletons who can’t generate heat so the house is consistently just a bit warmer than preferred.

Forcing yourself to continue walking down the hall, you turn to the kitchen. A part of you would kill for something cold. You open the fridge to find… nothing. The entire thing has been emptied by someone. Scratch what you thought before, you might actually kill somebody. There’s a bit of milk, some stray fruits, a knife that you assume to be Blade ‘pranking’ Ted, and a bit of heavy cream. Wait, milk, some fruits, and heavy cream? Wasn’t Chaos talking about making ice cream soon? He bought an ice cream maker and the ingredients!

Your footsteps are just about the only sounds you hear for the next few minutes as you get out the ingredients and measure them out in the bowl. You remember a recipe saying that you can just put them in together chilled and it will work out fine, so you put your trust in it. As you’re setting the bowl back in, you see Nightmare approach in a fanciful outfit.

“Are you using the set Chaos bought, my other half?” Nightmare asks, sitting down straight in a chair as he watched you move about.

You nod and reply, “Mhm! It’s gotten so hot recently, I figured I should just make some now. I doubt he’ll complain about homemade desserts.”

The slightly sassy response makes him smile a bit, but he frowns at the comment about the temperature. He’d never admit it, but he tends to forget the requirements of the human body compared to his and all the other undead occupants of the house.

“Would you not rather a servant make some for you? If it is as hot as you say, I doubt moving around consistently is beneficial.”

You smile at his offer, but shake your head. Despite his neglectful act he oftens puts up, that concerned tone and worried stare give him away. Besides, you’ve almost finished the process so why get someone else to do it now?

“Since you have a moment, would you care to occupy me in donning a recent set of garments created by my designers?” His tone is formal, as if uncaring, but you understand the question. Nightmare wants to do a mini fashion show with you. The two of you relax for a long while, putting on various outfits and picking which look best. You both offer advice and critiques on the new style, but come out of it pleased.

When you finish making the ice cream, you set it into two bowls and hand one to Nightmare while you sink against the counter. The chill sweetness that coats your tongue feels like the core of your being is cooling down. A content smile spreads across your face. Nightmare would recoil from the immense positivity, but seeing you cooling off allows his worries to subside.

“Try some, it’s really sweet!”

“No dessert could rival your gracious attitude, my one and only.”

His cheesy words make you giggle, but you smile at him. A king of negativity, a nightmare, but your Nightmare.

Aww, never thought I'd live to see the day of Nightmare acting soft lol

Love this!

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

hi, there ! i stopped by your blog and i just wanted to say that i really appreciate how intricate and dynamic your artstyle is. it's something i find myself deriving inspiration from especially seeing as i haven't made any art pieces in almost a year. also weird question but i noticed your latest upload(s) have baking recipes attached to them- do you like to bake? sorry if that sounds ridiculous, but i've been getting back into baking/cooking after being bedridden and i wanted to know what sort of things you liked to make! i hope you have a nice day and i hope i didn't sound awkward/weird

hey there anonymous, good morning fellow saint of the living god (my pastor always says this @ church on saturdays and it always makes me smile a little);

first: thank you! i:m a little embarrassed someone would take inspiration from me (honored, though: i:ll take compliments where i can get them) cause admittedly it feels like i can barely make more than sketches lately; you:d leave me to my whims and i:d just draw hands on the weekly sermon programming and nothing-else; so: do better than me, anonymous! strive to become better than a lazy bag of bones like me -- because you absolutely can with a little elbow grease and love :-))

second: i do, sort-of; i:ve been "struggling" with a "eating disorder" (the parentheses aren:t really to down-play, but it:s may-be more tied into religion and hygiene, and i don:t want to write a big paragraph about the "why"), and i found a measure of succor from learning to prepare extravagant meals for myself (mostly just breakfast and lunch) that i /really/ enjoy eating, and look forward to eating every-day (to a sad degree, these two meals are basically all i look forward to on a day-to-day, but i love them); over time the meal-prep evolved into getting a little mug i could bake with, which evolved into me wanting to learn to make simple baked-goods that i could include with my breakfast (note: my breakfast meals are /always/ a type of yogurt+cereal, all ingredients counted out in 4s; lunch is /always/ a wrap, again with all ingredients counted out in 4s) -- so i started with baking crusts for my yogurts, then baking mixed-in stuff, then baking french-toasts and bread-puddings; and ultimately i want to make cinnamon rolls, but i always mess it up (because i always get afraid of including the actual ingredient lists due to nutrition fears and serving-size fears, so i:ll sub things out nonsensically and reduce portions nonsensically) (but bright-side of messing up cinnamon-rolls is that i can use the ruined awful bread-pastries to make great bread puddings). basically though: teaching myself to cook + trying to excite myself to eat like a normal person is all that:s been keeping me going, lately -- and admittedly i really enjoy both. *note, as well: i think both of those recipes are from crazy ed-esque baking recipes that tiktok shows me.

veganism and numbers and leviticus and communication have all been pretty disastrous for my relationship with food.

one day i:ll make the cinnamon rolls right.

anyways, have a nice day today, anonymous; take care and pour yourself into your passions cause they:ll melt away other-wise & it:s only your hands keeping them in place.

[butchdaisy]

This is actually just a rant I left in someone's replies when I saw someone complaining about British people not seasoning their food. Like yes I get it, it's funny to say like "why did you steal all those spices if you weren't going to use them" but like, this is mostly a criticism I see from people who don't live here and I thought a fuller picture might interest people.

Sooooo, something to note about food in the UK. We do have good food here but most of it is imported cuisine, and the best of the foreign foods we have tend to be from those cultures that we have significant populations of, for example Caribbean, North African and Indian. So we have shit Latin food mostly because we have no significant Latin population. As for British food itself, well old recipe books from the 19th century and before weren't very good, they didn't give specific quantities and made references to things that were taken for granted at the time but that we no longer have context for. Additionally it wasn't the food of the average citizen that was being recorded but that of the higher ups and back then the food of the upper classes was heavily inspired by french cuisine. So in comes the 20th century and 2 world wars. A lot of British food culture gets essentially destroyed by rationing and you have a whole generation that grow up learning how to make do during a period where we weren't getting all the spices that we stole from everywhere else. And what they were taught out of necessity they taught their kids out of convenience, or laziness or tradition, take your pic I guess. That combined with successive media frenzies over the decades; going on and on about the dangers of salt and sugar and saturated fats and MSG and basically anything you can think of that makes food taste good. That has combined to create multiple generations of people that see bland food as an almost moral good. It's good to be frugal, you never know when rationing is going to happen again, it's good to eat healthy even if it's miserable and unappetising. Younger generations here have grown up in a world where our parents food often sucks. (At least this is true of a lot of white British people). Most white British people I know don't have a nostalgic feeling about their parents cooking. Like I was always confused growing up by the media trope of food made "just like [insert family member here] used to make". Because why would you want that?? As a result of this there is a push against this trend in the younger generations. I personally would call myself a good cook, I branch out a lot and have learnt from cuisine all over the world. One of the greatest things about the internet in my opinion is the ease of transmission of food culture, because dear god do we desperately need that here. But the thing is the young generation are largely quite poor in comparison to our elders. This means we eat out less and order takeaway less and thus our tastes, our relatively new found appreciation of good food is not reflected in the hospitality industry. Restaurants cater to the middle classes, who still insist on low fat everything with no salt and always double check how spicy something is before ordering. So yeah, this is why it's hard to get good food here. It does exist, and it's getting better, but like yeah it's sure taking its time.

Also at the very least you got to give it to us, the thing we stole the most of was pepper and we put that shit on literally everything.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Trent/Ted Lasso fic recs part 2

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

part 1 here

some small comfort by trentcrimminallybeautiful (biDEMONium) - Rated T

Trent finds Ted having a panic attack in the coaches' office. 

Curious & Judgmental by r_n_g_are_dead - Rated T

When he was ten and three-quarters-years-old, Ted Lasso’s parents left him at the Allen-Bradley Clock Tower for 3 hours and 42 minutes. Well, more like the park across the street. While there, he met a young British boy. Ted gave him a football trading card. The British boy gave him a pen.

Time was infinite. Time with people in your life was not. But sometimes you got more time with them than you ever expected.

what do dogs dream about? by trans_chickens - Rated T

She nestles into her pillows and is just about to close her eyes when she suddenly seems to remember something else. She sits up straight again, blinking at Trent. “He was silly I think, when he said a thing about you.”  Trent, who was this close to feeling triumph over a toddler brought to sleep with no incidents or hiccups, suddenly feels like he’s losing a battle. “What… did he say about me, love?” he asks, mouth dry. Maybe he doesn’t want the answer. He wasn’t even gone that long for the ice cream, how could Ted and Olive have fit in a whole conversation about dog dreams and also talk about Trent behind his back? It’s not fair. It doesn’t make sense. He’d think Olive was making it up if it wasn’t for her sincere expression. That and the fact that Trent suspects his daughter hasn’t figured out the concept of lying yet. He dreads the day she’ll get there, and hopes he still has tons of time until then. He almost wants to believe that time is now when he hears the next words out of Olive’s mouth. “He said you’re pretty.”

recipe for happiness (in khabarovsk or anyplace) by prewars - Not Rated

Series: 7 Works

Ted does what he does best: talk. Trent listens.

I Told You I Would Stay by hippiecommune - Rated G

Coach Ted Lasso from America, the man whose incurable optimism and seemingly infinite supply of well-wishes had somehow wrangled a good opinion out of quite literally everyone he’d ever met, was giving up. He was going home. Trent was here to ask questions about relegation and Ted was here to announce formally that he was resigning. Trent knew this because Ted had left a message three hours ago giving him a heads-up.

the funny thing about coincidences by mmummydust - Rated T

MrBlueSky: What are you working on tonight? Or thinking about on your walk? starman72: Coincidences, coincidentally. MrBlueSky: :) What about them? starman72: Nothing in particular. Just thinking. I’ve had a lot of them occur lately. Just a bit funny how things work out sometimes. --- Ted Lasso has been talking to someone on Bantr. Trent Crimm has also been talking to someone on Bantr. Turns out, they're both using it as a fairly poor distraction for their feelings. This doesn't turn out to be as big of an issue as it seems. Or - Ted and Trent are both incredibly, helplessly oblivious.

the courage to put on the cape by clementines_and_colourful_things - Not Rated

Trent Crimm, The Daily Planet. — A Ted Lasso Superman AU inspired by a Tumblr post by matttheratking. Thank you for violently (and metaphorically) shaking me by the shoulders.

things we are too young to know by andaskwhynot - Rated M

The other man stops talking, looks straight at him. And Trent was wrong, the look he had fixed on him earlier was not a smile, not really. Because now he is smiling at him, and it is nothing short of a beam, bright and open, and there are dimples, and even though the other man has a face that is more narrow than not, all Trent can think of as he looks at him is ‘corn fed’. Trent does a year abroad in the states, gets assigned a football player as a roommate and has his life turned upside down. It's all horribly cliched, until it isn't.

Words are very unnecessary (but they brought me to you) by blueberrywizard - Rated T

“At 4:44 in the morning the smell of coffee, like every other day, woke Trent up. At 4:45 kitchen radio started to play quietly in the background and Trent could, just like yesterday, recognise the sounds of Enjoy The Silence, which he thought was a little bit of a strange coincidence, but well. Stranger things had happened. At 4:50 he was at the kitchen table, thinking about his life choices. About journalism and football and life that kept having turns that he couldn’t predict.” Or: Trent Crimm, The Independent finds himself stuck in the time loop. There’s a lot of British 80's music and questionable life choices included.

Trent Crimm Cannot Be Objective About This by thegables - Rated E

“I’m bigger, you know, so I won’t get as cold, and you’re… not as big, so the cold would bother you more, it stands to reason, so you should just let me go on the outside by the window.” Trent said, “You have the gallantry of a big-jawed American film hero.” His tone when saying it was such that Ted said, “Sorry.”

in my head (I found you there) by lilysaid - Rated E

Trent loses the last three years to amnesia and can't figure out where overly-familiar American football coach Ted Lasso fits into his life.

friday (never hesitate) by oriscribes - Rated G

Trent froze with a small wince. Oops. This was too much. This wasn’t what he meant to do. But it was Ted and he was fucking leaving. But right now Ted was looking at Trent with a gentle smile and a gentler look in his eyes and well shit. Trent needed to leave before he did something stupid like kiss the the gaffer like he got the boy at the end of this fucking fairytale of a season. OR: an alternative take of when Ted is reading over Trent's book.

that funny feeling by bearfeathers - Rated T

Ted needs to talk to Trent about the security footage he found. Except that's hard to do standing in West Ham's facilities with people bustling all around them. So he does the only reasonable thing he can think of: he invites him to dinner.

Total Writing by sbkmm - Rated T

'He’s bouncing off the walls. He definitely made at least two weird noises and waved his arms around like a Muppet.' What happens to Trent after That Scene in s3e07. Can he recover his cool exterior? (spoiler: he can not.)

Take My Whole Life Too by ItsClydeBitches - Rated G

Ted Lasso was the kind of man who taught NSYNC choreography for a going away party and bent his players into impossible positions just to say “Hi, Boss!” in the morning. He’d organized fearsome bets over darts, baked heavenly biscuits on the regular, and had requested at least two boxes from Nate Shelley’s niece, one of which still sat on a shelf in his office, despite the betrayal. Ted was also a passionate believer in what he referred to as “rom-communism,” all the trappings included. In retrospect, Trent should have known he’d go all out for Valentine’s Day.

red-handed love by clementines_and_colourful_things - Not Rated

The ever-bubbling reservoirs of hyperactive energy stored deep in Ted Lasso’s sun-touched soul never ran dry. — Or, Ted Lasso is not the most spatially aware, which leads to a head injury, a hospital visit, and a very stressed Trent.

When Life Gives You Lemons by Springandastorm - Rated T

Trent snorts, which is a sound that Ted has trouble believing he's able to make. "You didn't want to touch the knob?" He repeats. "Nah, it's got all kindsa nasty germs on it, and I know that you bake 'em out anyway, but this one time in college I got food poisoning from a bad donut and spent about two days straight on the—wait." Trent waits patiently for Ted to finish realizing, arms folded. Ted feels his face break open wide. "Trent Crimm, are you making a dick joke?" "...I'm attempting to." Ted thinks that if there were a little meter for how much he likes Trent, that might've just broken it.

lonely, lonely boys (this one's for you) by clementines_and_colourful_things - Not Rated

Nothing about Kansas feels right. And that’s only partly due to the massive fucking tornado.

Or, Trent ventures to Kansas to attempt to drag Ted back to Richmond, but nasty weather throws a wrench in his plans.

Biscuits for Blushes by JessJesstheBest - Rated G

“Clara’s class is having a holiday party and it just so happens that she has listed your biscuits as her ‘Favorotti’ of all time. She absolutely refuses to bring her classmates anything else to the party.” Or Trent's daughter has requested Ted bake cookies for her whole class and obviously he's on board.

Can’t Cry in Public and Can’t Drink Alone by WordsInTheNight - Rated G

When the wifi goes out at Ted's, Ted and Beard turn to watching the Shocker game at Mae's. Trent happens upon them and is invited into the wonderland that is watching football--with football coaches. Ted jumps on chairs. Beard is as protective as a mama bear, but buys Trent a pint. Just some smoopy afternoon getting to know each other and sharing each other's space. Pre-relationship, but the air is thick with promise. Set slightly after season 2, so two-ish years since the Shockers won the Division II NCAA championship. Trent Crimm is working on a book about Richmond. They haven’t hooked up, but intention is in the air.

exercising restraint by trentcrimminallybeautiful (biDEMONium) - Rated E

Following a fun and informative encounter with his favorite ex-journalist, Ted has a rather uncomfortable meeting with the Diamond Dogs. Featuring: Trent Crimm and the be-catted bag, Leslie Higgins knowing a lot about BDSM, Roy Kent being the world's most unwilling participant in this conversation, and Beard being Beard.

Top of the List by infiniteeight - Rated G

Rebecca wants Ted to be happy. Ted is good at making other people happy, but sometimes he needs to be nudged into taking something for himself.

The Humble Himbo by ItsClydeBitches - Rated G

Join narrator Trent Crimm as he follows one of the world's most magnificent creatures, the Himbo, capturing never-before-seen moments within AFC Richmond.

linger by trentcrimminallybeautiful (biDEMONium) - Rated G

Rebecca comes to see why Ted hasn't gotten off the team bus yet.

[jedimasterbailey]

barrissoka game but for kenduli (u know they're my one true love) 3, 22, 30 + 42 <3

OMG YES YES MORE KENDULI YES YES 😍 Forever in debt to you for getting me addicted to them 🥹 I will happily answer these for you my friend 💚💙

3- What do the Masters think of their relationship and would they show their support?

I personally feel that Qui-Gon would support Obi-WAN’s relationship with Luminara 10000%. Qui-Gon would just be happy that his Padawan is getting laid with someone he deems suitable. Luminara is the ultimate good girl with a naughty streak so Qui-Gon would always be pushing Obi-Wan to let loose with her, but he would also ensure that Obi doesn’t become as cringe and obvious as Anakin is with Padme. As for Luminara, I like to headcanon that her Master was Katri from the Tales of the Jedi and I feel she would also be happy for her Padawan but would keep a close eye, making sure Luminara doesn’t get hurt and stays true to her Jedi training and herself. All in all, in a happy world, where Obi-Wan and Luminara can have their family, I believe there would be very supportive “in-laws”.

22- Whose the “top” and whose the “bottom” or do they switch?

Luminara is the top for sure 🥵 She is a woman who can command like no other and probably enjoys giving it to Obi-Wan (especially after he does stupid shit like almost have a mind controlling worm enter Luminara’s nose). I have no doubt that Obi-Wan completely melts like a school boy whenever Luminara gives him the eyes or smirk because my God could she shut anyone down with an expression. Maybe every so often they switch whenever Obi-Wan is really in the mood, but otherwise it’s almost always Luminara 😏

30-Who would be the better cook?

Luminara 100% I feel that Obi-Wan never got much of a culinary lesson with Qui-Gon who seems like someone who just microwaves everything even when you shouldn’t and on top of that, he has his pal Dex, who makes greasy diner fare so…yeah not much inspiration there. Luminara on the other hand was probably educated in every which way about her culture, including food, and she seems to be a woman of refined taste so she would take the time to learn recipes and master cooking. I can see people lining up to eat Luminara’s food and Barriss gets jealous because she wants to be the exclusive taste taster. The lady would have to be in bed sick in order for Obi-Wan or anyone else in the disaster lineage set foot in her kitchen.

42-If Order 66 never happened, what would their futures look like?

If Order 66 never happened, Im on the camp that like Anakin and Padme that Obi-Wan and Luminara would also pursue a more public romantic relationship and possibly have a child together (forever headcanoning a baby girl for them). Perhaps they’d take a break from their Jedi duties to go raise their child in one of their homeworlds like Stewjon with Obi-WAN’s birth family or Mirial or maybe somewhere else. Just anywhere but Tatooine, Luminara would never forgive Obi-Wan for that one 😂 Of course they’d still be tending to their respective Padawans and their families and as they get older, they’d become Grandmasters of the Order and continue to pass on their wisdom. In short, they’d have the happiest life they both so rightfully deserve 💚💙

Again thank you so much for these asks! I love talking Kenduli 🥰😍 Let me know what y’all think in the comments and don’t be afraid to send more asks!

Maybe I should make a Kenduli ask game after all? 🤔

[matrixxsystem]

Terrapin Soup Part 4 (1/3)

After a bit more time at the park Usagi packed his things and took Leos hand as he led him towards his house, "Y'know. I'd been thinking, about out chat the other night." He started as Leo used his free hand to text his brothers that he'd be out late again tonight. To no ones surprise. "Oh? Which part were you thinking about." "Us being boyfriends. Of course, I know you'd meant it more in a.. Pretend situation." "Right.. I mean, it'd be a little weird to date someone you just met that day. I mean we'd been talking for a while but I couldn't just ask you something like that forward as soon as we met and-" "You're rambling." "Hm? O-Oh.. Sorry I uh.." "It's alright, I find it kind of.. Endearing."

"Is.. That a good thing?" Usagi chuckled giving his hand a little squeeze, "Yes Leo, it's a good thing. Endearing means to inspire affection. I like listening to you. Which brings me back to what I was saying. If you'd like, I think it would be beneficial for us to date. But as an honest couple rather then a mask to deter suspicion." "Beneficial..?" He asked, raising a brow and hoping his face markings would be enough to hide any blushing. "Yes. On each of our ends we'd be supplied with plenty of alibis, someone to collaborate with, and a real relationship with someone who shares many of the same preferences. Seems like a fair deal, seeing as neither of us mentioned having feelings for someone else prior to this agreement. And seeing how your family already has a good impression of me it'd be easier for us to stick with each other for a while instead of trying to find someone else, and slowly trying to ease them into these kind of.. Dietary preferences. And... You aren't exactly awful to look at so, that would be a plus as well.." Leo laughed a bit hearing the last bit, his eyes scanned over Usagi, having already called him hot it wasn't a lie to say something similar.. And they already had quite a bit in common. Who else would like him as he was? Who else would treat him as kindly as Usagi had? Probably no one.. "Well you make a solid argument, but I would've said yes if you asked me out normally too y'know~"

"Well, far from normal seems to be our thing. Why bother with it?" "I love how you think.."

-_-_-_-

Once the brothers set foot on the other side of the portal they headed off to do their own thing, doing their daily training exercises then right to goofing off as usual till later that day when Leo finally texted letting them know he wouldn't be home till later that night. [R (Raph) D (Donnie) M (Mikey) for texting]

R; 'Hey what are you all up too'

M; 'I'm writing down the pizza puff recipe for the next time we see Leos boyfriend'

D; 'At the moment I'm doing some upgrades, why do you need something?'

R; 'I mean, it's not like important or anything. I just. So what did you think of Usagi?' D; 'You wanna gossip about Leos boyfriend? I mean hey I'm all for it I love drama but it's kinda random' 

M; 'Yeah I thought he was great! Oh! And he's soooo fluffy too! Did anyone else get to touch his fur I'm so jealous we aren't mammals :C'

R; 'I don't wanna gossip! I was just wondering.. If anyone else got like... A weird feeling' D; 'I mean he didn't like. Impress me, but he was better then most guys Leo's been fanning over lately, and he's real so I can't ask for much else. And he did bring us food, that was an unnecessary kindness. Why? Did you get a weird vibe?' R; 'I dunno.. I mean not really I just.. Raph's brain is thinking a lot right now.' M; 'Well tell Raph that Dr. Feelings says it's okay to be conflicted, just don't overthink it okay? He's our brother so it's normal to feel a little uneasy about him going off with someone else, but you can't let that feeling interfere with something that makes him happy if there's no tangible sign of danger' R; 'I guess you're right.. It's just weird. He's not here that often anymore and I mean he's here for missions and stuff but don't you guys miss him?' D; 'I don't usually interject when emotions are involved but I think I have something to contribute, this once.'

D; 'When we were younger me and Leo made a promise, an oath if you would. To always be there for each other, no matter how mad we were or how far away, we'd always be brothers and always have each others shells. Even to this day that idiot still stands behind me when we get attacked as if its second nature to cover me even I wear my battle shell. Despite his absence from recent activities, I don't feel like he's MIA in our lives, because I know that if I need him he'll be there, in the most flashy and annoying way mind you, but still.'

M; 'Awww Dee :'3c ' R; 'That was.. Surprisingly heartfelt. Thanks Dee.' D; 'Mhmm are we done here I need to keep this core stabilized or it could blow up so Imma brb'  R; 'I'm sorry what-?' -_-_-_-

Usagi led Leo into his house, not far from the garden they'd had lunch in. It looked surprisingly normal, its was a mix of a modern New York style house and a Japanese apartment. Leo smiled a little as he was led in, he wasn't sure why but his mind had made up this dark and ominous house he thought Usagi would've lived in that sort of unnerved him, but this of course was the much more realistic place. "Please make yourself comfortable, my teacher is the houses owner but he is not here often, and will not mind if I have guests. He is a tall lion yokai, which may look a bit intimidating but he's harmless." Leo nodded, glancing towards the kitchen as he listened. "You can look around if you'd like?" "Hm? O-Oh, no it's alright. I was just.. Curious." Usagi chuckled and took Leos hand again leading him into the kitchen, it was surprisingly clean- Well.. Usagi did say he liked to be organized. He mentally cursed himself out for thinking such harsh things about Usagi and what kind of things he might do in his own time. "I like that you're curious." He said with a little smile, letting go of his hand to show him around, "It's no fun to sit in silence. Ask anything you want, and I will answer." "..You will, no matter what it is hm?" "Correct, as long as I'm comfortable doing so of course." Leo nodded, leaning against the island counter in the kitchen, "Do you cook regular stuff and.. Other stuff, in a separate place?" Usagi went to the other side of the counter  leaning forward, "That would waste time, I do all food prep here. And in the basement where we have a bigger freezer, but it's also very well kept down there." "Oh? What kind of prep do you need to do there?" Part 4.2 Part 1

TS Master Post

[bitchin-witchin]

Been listening to the shin gojira soundtrack and ofc I can't help to think of childe when hearing the lyrics for Who Will Know. The first soprano verse i think of his childhood self in the abyss. Then when the bass verse comes in on the second repeat of the first I think of his new self putting the old to rest by carrying on in the face of what almost to anyone else ever would be unbeatable adversity.

Lyrics:

If I die in this world, who will know something of me?

I am lost, no one knows, there's no trace of my yearning.

If I die in this world, who will know something of me?

(But I must carry on. Nothing worse can befall.)

I am lost, no one knows, there's no trace of my yearning.

(All my fears, all my tears, tell my heart there's a hole.)

I wear a void, not even hope.

A downward slope is all I see.

I wear a void.

(As long as breath comes from my mouth.)

Not even hope.

(I may yet stand the slightest chance.)

A downward slope.

(A shaft of light is all I need.)

Is all I see.

(To cease the darkness killing me.)

DUDE EVEN LIKE "I wear a void" HIS CAPE.... THATS HIS CAPE ISHFNFJF. "A shaft of light is all I need to cease rhe darkness killing me" FINDING AN EXIT BACK TO TEYVAT... CELESTIA DELIVERING HIM A VISION... LIKE THE DOTS ARE CONNECTING THEMSELVES.

It also makes me think of an idea where his abyssal powers have grown more and he's closer than ever to being something godlike (the use of like is mportant here) but at the cost of continous suffering. In Shin, gojira's crazy nuclear waste-mutated biology makes it possible for him to evolve in real time at insane speed to combat the humans trying to kill him, but it's not really a conscious choice, it's his body forcing him to live under constant new stressors. Perhaps childes ascent in power comes at a similar price? I'm not thinking exactly the same since Shin's story is very much like its own and not something to be directly transferred to childe character. But the feelings of despair and desperation, continuing to live through agony because what else can you do, what else could there be that is any more painful? That could very well be Ajax's story in the abyss.

Basically this is all just a big excuse to daydream childe growing into a super awesome disgusting foul legacy (which you could make a connection to shin again that this form is the visual representation of how the powers which manipulate teyvat have hurt the world and who's actions could lead to its destruction (the recipe of events which led to the creation of whatever childe becomes) but maybe that's a bit much considering this gets into even more ambiguous and self catering hc territory LOL)

But really I just want to imagine him being a tragic figure who can also cause so much damage and have cool powers that make him suffer MOAR. I'm not usually big on whump but I do love a character suffering while still being very powerful and destructive huehue.

I would love to write a fic that expresses this connection to/inspiration from Who Will Know but I'm not sure how I would approach it/what it would even be. Best idea rn is a fic that would require so much plotting and planning and p much being written all before posting which would take me YEARS considering it already takes me a year or more to write one to two chapters of something 😂😭 if this is inch resting to anyone pls feel free to reply/reblog I would love to discuss and entertain current/new thoughts with others <3 unless you're just gonna poo poo on this then I won't respond. bc who wants to talk to someone about why that someone thinks the idea you expressed liking in the self-identified self-indulgent post is lame and stinky. Not me. LOL. Even if it's a cringe idea to others. who care. We living our best cringe life out here posting like this. Fucked up evolved foul legacy hc has transcended beyond cringe <3

[imaginarybestie]

Daily Blessings & Ideas For Friends

Dear P,

Another thing I could share with my friends is daily blessings and ideas. So by blessings, what I mean is gratitude for good things, as well as just any good ideas, inspiration, quotes, images, videos, insights, any such things. Anything that feels light, uplifting, sustaining, healing, nourishing to the heart, soul, hope, joy, meaning, and all that stuff.

And also, little light bits of ideas that feel helpful and positive to me. Ideas, as in useful infomation, and practical, actionable concepts or theories. Not just feel-good inspiration which is what I was thinking of when I said "blessings". Ideas and info from books, videos, websites, pictures, projects, lists that are inspiring to me and that I thought they might also enjoy. Quotes, book passages, divination messages that I get. Photos that I take. Recipes. (I guess I think of those as practical concepts, weirdly, because it might inspire another person to do the same kind of creative thing as me. But I guess the line gets kind of blurry here, as for what's just inspiring and what's more of a practical, actionable idea).

Whatever, anything. Any real life actions that might inspire someone else to do similar real-life actions. Crafts. Art. Games. List games and word games that I make up and play. As long as it feels like some kind of useful and interesting and positive feeling idea. Music. Youtubes of favorite songs. Exercise videos. The sky's the limit with all this stuff.

But of course, the problem is that I don't know how much such things I'll really have that I'll feel like sharing. So it goes back to the thing of that I'm usually the kind of person who silently observes and takes in life rather than writing or speaking about it. Sometimes just trying to think of the words for such things seems to exhaust me.

When I do talk to people about such things, I also do so with a sense of trepidation and fear, because oftentimes it feels like I'm setting myself up for some expectation. I'm opening a whole can of worms that I might not want to go there. People tend to expect more and more of the same once you start out on a positive note, as if it's effortless and enjoyable and so why wouldn't you just have more and more light, positive stuff to say and be thrilled to do so? And maybe it's so for many but for me, it's often the opposite. I can only stomach so much light and bright and positive stuff. So while it's highly essential for me as a person, to have great huge gobs of positive and light and constructive stuff filled to the brim through my days of all my life, that doesn't mean that I can just share it with everyone very much.

I can only do so in small amounts, for a very limited amount of speaking at a time, and that's it, zip it, shut, I'm done for the day with any more positive talk. haha Not always, but often. I don't know that others would understand or accept this limitation in real life. I guess it's good that this is just writing to imaginary friends, since they don't have to actually understand. As that song goes, 'Imaginary lovers never let you down", and "Imaginary lovers always understand", I think it says, and stuff like that. (the song is 'Imaginary Lovers', by Atlanta Rhythm Section). Well, it's the same with imaginary friends, too, I guess. Lol

Anyway, thanks for listening again, P. It really feels good to write the imaginary you, here, today. I feel on a roll. It's already up to like 9 posts on my first day writing this blog, wow.

-C