#and i said so proudly yes!! you put it any dish i put it in maggi and it turns out tastiest

[iftitah]

grrrrrrrrrr

[kaiawrites]

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES (halloween fic)

lando norris x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

prompt(s): “You okay? Your face is red.” “Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally, it’s just the weather.” & "Oh my god, your room is so dirty. How do you live here?" "If you're so bothered by it, clean it up." "Fuck off. I'm not your servant." "You act like one." "I. Said. Fuck. Off."

warnings: slightly creepy guy calls the reader a wh*re, minor violence/blood (just a bar fight), the rest is pretty fluffy

a/n: posting my 'once in every 3 years' post, happy halloween for the lando girlies! I haven't proofread this, so sorry for any mistakes

"Have you seen my black T-shirt, I'm sure it was here. I swear I saw it here," you heard Lando’s voice call out from across your shared flat. 

"Oh, the one that looked like a rag? Yeah, I threw it away," you replied as you continued drying off your dishes.

“What!” you heard Lando shriek. "You little shit, come here!" You snickered as an angry, shirtless, Lando stormed into your kitchen.

“Clam down Norris, I didn’t touch any of your shit I have no idea where your goddamn T-shirt is,” you laughed at the Brit’s unamused face as you put away the last of the dishes. “Come on, I’ll help you look for it,” you said, though you did not expect what you found when you reached Lando’s room. Rarely did you ever come into each other’s room; so you hadn’t seen it’s inside it a while. Clothes were strewn about on every flat surface, cups and plates you’d been missing for weeks scattered about and his bedsheets practically on the floor. No wonder he couldn’t find his stupid t-shirt.

"Oh my god, your room is so messy. How do you live here?" you laughed, your roommate glowering further at you. Clearly, he did not find you as funny as you found yourself.

"If you're so bothered by it, clean it up."

"Fuck off. I'm not your servant." 

"Well, you act like one, darling," now a teasing smile curling his lips.

“Then you can find your shirt on your own, Norris,” you said, giving him a bitter smile before exiting his room. You knew damn well there was no way you would've been able to find anything in his mess of a room. Anyways, you had to start getting ready too, since you were soon to be on your way to a Halloween party. Your costume was quite simple, just a regular red mini-dress and some devil horns on a headband, so it didn’t take you very long once you’d gotten your makeup down. 

“Come on Norris we’re gonna be late!” You called out, checking your phone for the time. In truth, you were already late, but you were about to be later than was acceptable if Lando didn’t come down soon. Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long. Unluckily, however, it seemed that Lando had gone absolutely insane and dumped a gallon of glitter on his skin.

“Is that your costume?” You asked. Lando looked down at himself and nodded proudly, glitter falling off at the movement. “I thought you were being a vampire..?”

“I am,” Lando replied, a permanent proud and shit-eating grin on his face. “You know, like the ones from Twilight.”

“You’re going to embarrass me,” you said in exasperation.

“I know, that’s the point, love,” Lando replied smugly. “Let’s go now, you don’t want to be late, do you?” 

You rolled your eyes and followed him out.

———

Lando watched from the bar as you stumbled off the dance floor and looked around, a bright, dazed smile tugging at your lips when you spotted him. Jesus christ you were beautiful. Not that you weren’t always beautiful, Lando knew you were, but there were moments where you seemed more than beautiful. Moments like this one, where you headed toward him, the glistening of your skin reflecting the club lights, looking at him expectantly as you awaited his answer.

“What?” Lando said, breaking out of his stupor and nearly blushing at how he’d completely missed your question. You laughed at his confusion, before leaning closer. Lando’s heart skipped a beat, and for an imperceptible moment, he thought you were going to kiss him. But of course, the moment passed as you leaned into his ear, repeating your unanswered question more clearly. 

“Why aren’t you having fun?” you asked smoothly, revealing a faux pout as you drew back. Lando let out a chuckle.

“I am having fun, love,” he replies.

“No, you’re standing here watching the rest of us have fun,” you replied, matter-of-factly. “Come oooonnn, Norris, come dance with me.” Lando stared into your puppy-dog eyes, ready to give in and come make a fool of himself on the dance floor for you, before he was cut off by an unknown, and unwelcome voice.

“Forget him, I’ll dance with you,” the voice said, its owner getting far too touchy with you for Lando’s liking.

“Uhm, no thank you,” you answered, all your previous mirth dissipating into discomfort.

“Come on babe, I promise, I’m fun,” the evidently drunk man repeated, 

“I’m alright, thanks,” you said, refusing once more. The man didn’t reply this time, instead choosing to grab your wrist in order to lead you toward the floor.

“She said no, mate,” Lando cut in dryly. The man turned toward Lando, anger simmering beneath his stare.

“Look, you can drop the act mate, I’ve seen her whoring around all night, I know that’s not your girl. She’s free game,” he slurred.

“What did you just call her?” Lando spat. The guy laughed at what Lando could only assume the man thought was an empty threat. However, Lando didn’t give him a chance to retaliate.

“Lando!” you exclaimed as both men went down. The next moments were a blur of fists and bloodied faces, until Lando was suddenly pulled off the man by a security guard. He turned to see you looking all at once scared, worried, relieved and angry. Lando looked back down at the drunk guy, and he couldn’t help the self-satisfied smirk at the state he’d left him in, even as the security guard escorted him out of the bar.

———

“Are you mad at me?” Lando broke the heavy silence as you walked into your flat. You sighed deeply, turning around to face him for the first time since you’d been kicked out of the bar. 

“Of course not, just… promise you won’t do anything like that ever again. I mean, I know you’re an idiot, but that was even more stupid than usual,” you joked, hoping to lighten the mood, but Lando still stared at you, uncharacteristically unreadable.

“I can’t promise that, I would do it again if I had to.”

You stared at him intently, searching for any sign of Lando’s usual playfulness, but you only found earnest eyes and a clenched jaw. You averted your gaze, not knowing what to do with this uncharacteristic behaviour. Instead, you turned toward the bathroom, hearing Lando’s shuffling feet as he trailed after you. Rummaging through a drawer, you pulled out a first aid kit and turned back toward Lando to find him almost comically standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Sit,” you said more harshly than you intended, gesturing toward the ledge of the bathtub. Lando heeded your command, silently taking a spot where you’d directed him. After wiping off the remainder of his face paint and glitter, you began by cleaning up the cut on Lando’s nose, soaking a towel with cold water and dabbing it at the cut. Lando flinched and hissed at the contact. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you chided with a chuckle, though there was no malice in it.

“I am not a baby,” Lando scoffed with a small smile. After cleaning and patching up the cut on his nose, you moved on to his split lip, hesitating a moment before bringing the towel to it. Lando’s breath hitched almost imperceptibly at the contact, but he didn’t wince this time. You focused on intently cleaning the wound, and once you were done, you set aside the towel. You turned back toward Lando to find his face tinged a bright red.

“Are you okay? Your face just got all red?” you inquired, looking him over for any sign of an injury you might have missed.

“Yeah, I mean, yes. Totally. It’s the, uhm, weather,” Lando replied, his voice breaking on the first word. You looked at him, deadpan.

“We’ve been inside for a solid ten minutes, Norris,” you stated.

“Well, y’know what I mean, it’s like, warm in here or something,” he rectified, his face somehow flushing further. A small smirk formed on your lips.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flustered, Norris,” you teased as you finished cleaning up the small cut.

“What? Flustered? By you?” He replied, his voice an octave higher and cadence a tad faster than usual, only proving your point further. You disposed of the gauze, turning back toward him and cupping his face in your hands. You smirked and raised an eyebrow at his widening eyes and ever-flushed face. “Okay, okay, maybe I am,” he admitted.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” You taunted him. Lando’s eyes searched your face for any sign of humour, but found only sincerity. With that, he leaned in, closing the remaining distance between the two of you. The kiss was slow and purposeful, free of any of the teasing which usually permeated all your interactions. This was something else, communicating a kind of sincerity your words could hardly convey.

“Thank you,” you added after parting from the kiss.

“What? For kissing you?” Lando answered with a chuckle. “‘Cause I can do it again.”

“For sticking up for me. It was dangerous and reckless and please don’t do it again. But thank you, still. I appreciate it.”

“Well, like I said, I would do it again. That fucker had it coming, messing with my girl.” He replied, brushing the pad of his thumb on your cheek.

“Your girl, huh?” You echoed teasingly.

“If she wants to be, that is?” Lando replied. You hummed, contemplating.

“If he takes me on a date, I might consider it,” you settled on, turning to exit the bathroom, though you didn’t miss Lando’s hushed, dragged out yes, and you giggled as you imagined him pumping his fist. He followed you out, and you both settled on the couch, seemingly in agreement to watch a movie. You tossed Lando the remote.

“Your turn to pick,” you said, as you had picked the movie last time. After a moment, Lando settled on a movie and pressed play. “A horror movie?” You inquired. “You’re terrified of those.”

“Am not!” Lando replied petulantly. 

“Yes, you are,” you laughed, doubling over as the first jumpscare of the movie made Lando jump in his place. He couldn’t help but smile at seeing you laugh, even if it was at his expense. In fact, he would gladly make an idiot out of himself every day if it meant making you laugh like that. And maybe Lando really was terrified of horror movies, but maybe he’d also purposely picked a horror movie so he’d have an excuse to his his face on your shoulder, and maybe, just maybe, you were glad he’d picked a horror movie because you too, wanted and excuse to keep him close tonight.

[huhmiya]

CHEF KISS | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: he cooks a meal as a small gesture of gratitude for all that you do for him. this way, both of you can enjoy a meal together tonight, even though that won’t be the only thing he’s eating night.

warnings: smut, oral female receiving, swearing, use of y/n, ass grabbing, pet names (baby, darling, love).

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. I didn’t know what to name the title..

WORDS: 1.5k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

-

You have been doing everything for Chris ever since you started dating, and even before that, it seemed like you had put your own life on hold to help him with his, and you were perfectly content with that.

He was grateful for all you did for him, as he didn't believe he deserved it, but the main reason was that he always felt he wasn't doing enough for you.

Although he wasn't the best cook, he had an idea to prepare a meal and made an effort to learn by reading instructions to make it perfect for you.

He was wearing headphones as he was home alone since his brothers had gone out and offered him to join them, but he preferred to stay in and focus on cooking without any distractions.

He took longer than expected to prepare the meal because he wanted it to be flawless, even though he wasn't used to cooking or doing such tasks.

While you were out all day with your friends, you decided to stay a bit longer, which would make you arrive at your boyfriend's house late.

He was aware that you would be coming around 10pm, as you had mentioned staying with your friends earlier. The loud music blared through his headphones again as he prepared your favorite food, hoping that his subpar cooking wouldn't spoil it for you.

"Shit," he muttered upon noticing a call coming in. He hesitated for a moment, uncertain of the caller as he accepted it through his headphones. However, upon hearing your voice, his face lit up with joy.

"Are you okay, baby?" he inquired, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he continued cooking. You reassured him, "Yes, I'm just ten minutes away, then I'll be at yours."

He responded with a sweet remark, acknowledging your imminent arrival. With ten minutes to spare, he focused on completing the cooking.

As you ended the call after a minute, the music resumed playing on his headphones. He didn't mind, instead smiling as he savored the sound of your voice, which warmed his heart, knowing you were the perfect girl for him.

He had just finished the meal when you arrived, creating a pleasant atmosphere after setting the dinner table. As you entered through the front door with your key, you called out loudly, “It's only me!”

However, the house's unique layout made it seem quiet to him, as he was upstairs.

You made your way upstairs to find Chris with a wide grin on his face. He greeted you with a hug, which you reciprocated, prompting him to plant a kiss on your head.

Stepping back, he proudly showed you his handiwork. Your eyes widened as you observed his efforts, then you glanced at him. Without a word, he understood your unspoken thoughts.

“I did everything, even cooked the meal. I hope my cooking skills aren't too shabby,” Chris said with a smile, brushing your hair away from your face.

“This is so thoughtful, Chris,” you murmured, to which he simply chuckled, pleased that you appreciated it. After a moment of silence, he embraced you once more, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around. To him, you were light as a feather, and it was no exaggeration.

He quickly place you down and pulled out a chair for you to sit on while taking a seat himself. His gaze alternated between you and the food in front of him.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it y/n,” he said, observing both the dish he had prepared and your reaction. He didn’t want to force you to eat something you didn’t enjoy.

As you began to eat, you found it delicious. It was possibly the best version of your favorite dish you had ever tasted.

He held back from eating first, wanting to gauge your response. When he saw that you liked it, a smile spread across his face.

“It’s amazing,” you exclaimed, prompting his eyes to light up as he nodded in appreciation. He then began to enjoy his own meal, pleasantly surprised by his culinary skills.

While you both ate and conversed, he listened attentively as you recounted your day. Occasionally, he interjected with questions about your activities, eager to hear more.

Throughout the encounter, his gaze remained fixed on you. Your hair was tousled by the wind outside, adding a carefree charm to your outfit that caught his attention. He couldn't help but notice the fresh love shirt you wore underneath, a detail he had glimpsed earlier while you were changing in his room.

"Checking me out, huh?" you teased, prompting him to roll his eyes and chuckle softly as he continued eating.

"Shut your pretty mouth, will you darling?" he retorted, meeting your gaze and playfully silencing you with a finger on your lips, causing your cheeks to flush.

After ensuring you were quiet, he bit his lip and glanced at you one more time before leaning back in his seat.

Soon, he rose from his seat to clear his plate, prompting you to watch him as you finished your last few bites and followed suit.

With a grin, he reached out to tousle your hair as you rinsed the white plate. "Are you sure it was okay? You weren't just saying that because I made it, were you?"

"I assure you, everything was fine. Why didn't you enjoy it?" you ask, tilting your head in confusion. He just laughs and stops stroking your hair.

"I did like it, but you know what I would like even more?" he whispers, his voice deepening as he moves your hair to the side, exposing your neck.

"What would that be?" you inquire. He simply looks at you before gently kissing your neck and then speaks.

"Well, I'm still hungry, but this time I'm hungry for you," he says before giggling. "I didn't expect it to sound so cringy," he whispers.

He then kisses your lips and pins you against the kitchen counter, grabbing your wrists and making you wrap your arms around him. You respond by kissing him back.

His hands soon move to your backside, squeezing it before lifting you up onto the clean kitchen counter.

He maintains eye contact as he slowly removes your jeans, admiring your naked thighs before placing your jeans on the floor.

Your eyes widen, but he hadn't noticed. He traces patterns on your thigh before moving his hands up to your waist and then glancing at your shirt.

"Can I keep your shirt on? I find it so fucking hot when you wear my merchandise," he says, his voice filled with desire.

You nod, indicating that you are okay with it. He lifts your shirt and kisses your stomach, removing your bra in the process so you are left only in your shirt and thong.

"I'll be fair and make it a bit more comfortable for you to keep your shirt on," he says, aware that you may find it uncomfortable wearing a bra as he has heard you complain about it before.

You push his hair back as he raises an eyebrow in confusion, but doesn't say anything. He removes your underwear and notices how aroused you are.

“You are so beautiful, love," he whispered, gently holding your legs before leaning in to kiss you. His stubbled beard grazed between your legs, eliciting a soft moan from you as your eyes closed in pleasure.

He then kissed your intimate area and flicked his tongue over your folds, teasing you with each sensual touch. His nose brushed against your clitoris as his tongue circled around your entrance, causing you to bite your lip and whimper with delight.

His whispered words, “you like that, huh?” preceded the moment he sensually explored you with his tongue, causing your eyes to widen and your back to arch as he held you in place by sitting on the kitchen counter.

He savored the taste of you, wishing he could always have you. Your moans grew louder, and he didn't attempt to silence you since it was just the two of you in his house.

He intensified his movements, expertly pleasuring you with his tongue, causing your legs to tremble. His thumb deftly teased your clitoral hood, eliciting moans as your orgasm approached.

"I'm close, Chris," you warned, to which he simply nodded. He spread your legs wider, continuing to pleasure you until you released all over his tongue.

Your orgasm dripped onto his chin and the kitchen counter, but he paid it no mind, proceeding to clean you up and lick you thoroughly.

"You taste so delicious, darling," he murmured as he pulled away, licking his lips and gazing at you. As you moved to wipe your essence from his lips, he stopped you, using his thumb to clean them before sensually licking it off.

Your eyes widen as he chuckles before lifting you up gently and taking you to the bathroom to freshen up.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Celebrating Wins

Word count: 942

Pairing: Lando norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: As a new couple landos girlfrined celebrates his polepostion with with a playful, intimate evening, marking the start of their relationship

Request are open

______________________________________________________________

The excitement from the day still lingered as we made our way back to the hotel. The buzz of the crowd, the thrill of Lando securing pole position in Q3—it was all still fresh in our minds. But now, it was just us, away from the cameras and the noise, and I had something fun and a bit silly planned for our own private celebration. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. We had only just gotten together, and this was my first chance to really show him how proud I was of him. I wanted to make the night special, something he’d remember—not just as a celebration of his pole position, but as a moment that marked the beginning of us.

As we stepped into our room, Lando immediately burst into laughter. I had covered the bed with orange and blue confetti—McLaren’s colors, of course. There were small, goofy trophies on the nightstand, the kind you’d find at a dollar store, with labels like “World’s Best Driver” and “Pole Position King” hastily scribbled on them in my handwriting. I’d even put out a cheesy plastic crown that said “Speed King” in glittery letters.

“Are you serious?” Lando asked, grinning from ear to ear as he picked up one of the trophies. “You really went all out, didn’t you?”

“Well, someone’s got to remind you how awesome you are,” I teased, reaching up to place the crown on his head. It was a bit too small, but he wore it proudly, striking a ridiculous pose.

“I feel like royalty,” he declared, holding out his hand for me to kiss, as if he were some kind of racing monarch.

Laughing, I took his hand and gave it an exaggerated, over-the-top kiss. “Your Majesty, the Speed King, shall we dine?”

He snorted, his eyes shining with amusement. “Lead the way, my loyal subject.”

We moved to the small table I’d set up near the window, where a simple dinner was waiting for us—nothing too heavy, just some of Lando’s favorite Italian dishes, including a massive bowl of pasta. I’d even ordered pizza, because who can resist pizza in Italy? And there, chilling in the ice bucket, was a bottle of his favorite champagne.

As we sat down, I grabbed a napkin and tucked it into his shirt collar like a bib. “Can’t have you getting pasta sauce on your royal robes,” I said, doing my best to keep a straight face.

Lando burst out laughing again. “You’re ridiculous! But I love it.”

We dug into the food, the atmosphere light and playful. Lando twirled his pasta dramatically, pretending to be a food critic as he took a bite. “Ah, yes, the perfect carbo-loading meal for a champion,” he said in a mock-serious tone.

“Only the best for you, your highness,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

As we finished eating, I brought out a small cake I’d hidden earlier. It was nothing fancy, just a simple cake with “Pole Position!” written in blue and orange icing, with a little toy car on top for good measure. I stuck a single sparkler in the middle and lit it, the tiny fireworks crackling and popping.

Lando’s face lit up with childlike glee as he watched the sparkler. “This is amazing. I didn’t think I could be this excited about cake.”

“Well, it’s not just any cake,” I said, grinning. “It’s the first of many celebrations this weekend, I hope.”

“Does this mean if I win tomorrow, I get another cake?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, you bet,” I replied, slicing into the cake and handing him a piece. “And maybe I’ll even throw in a victory dance.”

He nearly choked on his cake from laughing so hard. “Please tell me you’re not serious about the dance.”

“I’m dead serious,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “It’ll be legendary. You’ll win the race and I’ll be the talk of the paddock for my sweet moves.”

He shook his head, still laughing. “Now I’m even more motivated to win, just to see this ‘legendary’ dance.”

After we finished the cake, we collapsed onto the bed, both of us a little too full and a lot too happy. Lando was still wearing the plastic crown, and I couldn’t help but giggle every time I looked at him.

“You know,” he said, turning to me with a grin, “this has been the best celebration ever. No fancy dinners, no big parties—just us, being goofy.”

I leaned in, resting my head on his shoulder. “That’s because it’s real. And you deserve to enjoy every second of it, without any pressure.”

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “Thanks. I needed this. It’s easy to get caught up in everything, but tonight, I feel like I can just be me. With you.”

I reached up and took the crown off his head, placing it on mine. “Well, tomorrow, the Speed King is going to show everyone what he’s made of. And McLaren is going to be that much closer to winning it all.”

Lando grinned and leaned in to kiss me, his lips warm and soft against mine. “I couldn’t do it without you, you know. You make this all so much better.”

As the night wore on and we finally started to drift off to sleep, Lando whispered, “No matter what happens tomorrow, this is my favorite victory.”

I smiled, cuddling closer to him. “Mine too. But just so you know, I’m ready for another cake tomorrow.”

He chuckled softly. “You better start practicing that victory dance then.”

[l0v3tast3]

*Peeks into the ask box* Hey, I got a request.

How would the 141 propose to their partner?

ARIZONA THIS IS THE CUTEST ASK EVER I LOVE YOU. this was so sweet to write i loved this so so much thank you lovely!!! ＼(≧▽≦)／

✎ tags: gn!reader, uber amounts of fluff !!

✎ word count: 1.2k words (not proofread)

masterlist | requests are open!

♡ simon "ghost" riley — simon proposes to you quietly, in the privacy of your bed, swaddled in blankets together while you lay on his chest. it's the most serene he's ever felt in his life, the both of you laying in a state of half-consciousness together just to be close. he'll look down at you and trace the line of your cheekbone lightly until your eyes crack open blearily and you tilt your head up to him with a content hum. — it'll take him quite some time, years of building an unbreakable bond of trust between the two of you, years of working on healing not just for you but for himself, for any future children you may have. simon will be so hesitant to settle down with anyone, to try to start a life of his own outside of taking others. so after long enough that he realizes things do work out, he'll cup your face and bend down to kiss you, soft and slow, filled with all the love he has for you. — when he draws away he'll say the words, so quiet you wonder if you imagine it: marry me. your eyes widen and simon presses his forehead to yours, noses brushing together as his thumbs trace the graceful lines of your face, and he says it again, only a tiny bit louder. when you finally say yes, he'll smile with a level of joy you've never seen in him before.

♡ john "soap" mactavish — johnny is not the kind of man to hide his love for you. once he knows how he feels for you, he wears it proudly, always boasting about how lucky he is to have you, how wonderful of a partner you are. his shows of affection are boisterous and grand, spoiling you with lavish gifts and more hugs and kisses than anyone could possibly count. the way he proposes is, of course, no different. — so much planning goes into it. of course, johnny makes sure to ask your friends to confirm that you're okay with a public proposal before it all, but once he gets the go ahead, he doesn't hold back. he'll throw a gorgeous party around a holiday or a significantly happy anniversary, your first date or kiss. he invites all your friends, family, anyone either of you care for and love all in one place. they're all in on it, there's no doubt about it; your friends help you plan your outfit and johnny pays for it all (which isn't unusual, thankfully). the engagement ring is either handed down from your family or bought from an absurdly expensive store with a design pre-approved by your best friends. — he'll bend down on one knee near the end of the party and when you turn back to him he's holding the ring up, looking at you with all the love he has in him. johnny says that all he needs is you, and when you say yes and let him slip on the ring he scoops you into a tight hug, tears of happiness pricking the corners of his eyes.

♡ kyle "gaz" garrick — kyle doesn't have the same flare for dramatics as johnny; he's a quiet man, so much so that he was practically given his callsign because of it. that being said, he's not as low-key as simon, either. kyle isn't a man with many close relationships (by his own choosing). the people he does keep close, though, mean everything to him- you especially. so while he won't throw a huge party or propose in front of your family and friends, kyle still makes sure he shows just how much he loves you. — it isn't abnormal for kyle to take you shopping like johnny does, so he takes out like usual and gently suggests the dress or suit he thinks you'd like best to get engaged in (for the pictures, if that's your thing). the night he plans to propose, kyle starts it off by taking you to the upscale restaurant that you swear puts crack in your favorite dish. after whatever dessert you choose and a bottle of your favorite wine or champagne, he'll suggest a detour on the brief walk back to your shared downtown apartment. — he brings you to a quiet little viewing spot along a river leading into a bay; the place you first met, classically bumping into each other at this very spot. kyle tries to prepare a little speech as a declaration of love before he asked you to marry him, and he swears it's the first time he's fumbled over this many words in years. when he sees the gears in your head turning and starting to realize, he chuckles nervously and says a quiet "fuck it" before he kneels down and pulls out the ring. kyle will unashamedly admit that he cried when you said yes, if anyone asks.

♡ john price — john won't throw a party, but he will throw a "formal gathering" consisting of close friends and family. it's something that he secretly plans months in advance; he won't admit how proud of himself he is, but over the course of those months he subtly finds out every specific detail he needs of what your favorite thing is for the not-party, and you still never figure it out. if you're close with your family he gets your parent's blessing and a handed down ring if they have one (if not, he isn't shy about how much he spends on your engagement ring, and he gets what you'd like it to be out of you too). he even gets your friends in on it too, to help him with their own knowledge of your likes and dislikes. — it's planned from the beginning that john proposes to you right at the start of the not-party. he plans it at a beautiful small venue and keeps it all as a surprise, but he's certain that it'll be obvious from the moment you step foot inside the place. so when you get there he pulls you to the balcony that overlooks a gorgeous lake and cups your face. despite your friends and family watching with dewy eyes, john will make this moment private. the words of how hopelessly in love with you and devoted to you he is shared quietly just between two lovers. — he doesn't even bother kneeling (because honestly you'd be crazy to not already be saying yes) when he pulls out the ring, and when you say yes as soon as he has the four-word question out he kisses you, pulling you as close to him as he can. the rest of the party is spent popping bottles of champagne and basically being inseparable from each other. john spares no expense and does everything in his power to make this the happiest night you've ever had, and will promise you that he'll do the same for every night for the rest of your lives.

[icycoldninja]

Hey! How are you... it's mother's day in India today. And my mother and my relationship strained, though she doesn't know about it.😂

Anyway, not trauma dumping. But can I request lots of angst, followed by lots of love. Basically Dante and fem!reader (his wife) has a cute five year old daughter, she and Dante plans mother's day something for her. As far as trying to make no-bake cake (cause seriously, Dante can't bake for his life and baby is baby.)

I just want it to be followed by the reader questioning after the celebration at night, if she is even a good mother that one day she is turn controlling and obsessive like her mother, when she is alone with Dante. And the baby was awake walking through the hall and overheads. She and Dante make sure the Reader knows she is doing great as a mother. Dante goes as far as saying she is as good a mother as Eva.

Yes, Instagram is giving me a baby fever.

Aww, I'm so sorry to hear that. 💜 And yeah, I get it, when you see how happy other moms are, you kinda wanna be a mom yourself. Here you go, I hope you enjoy and have a great day.

Am I a Good Mother? (Dante x Fem!Reader)

"OK, what's the next step?" Dante asked, bending over your little daughter's shoulder to read the recipe.

"It says...add milk and stir." Said your daughter, standing up on her tiptoes to peer at the recipe sheet taped to the kitchen cabinet.

"OK, I'll get on that," Dante said, patting your daughter's head. "While I do that, go check on your mom and see if she's still watching TV. Do it quietly, though, don't get caught."

Nodding, your daughter scampered off to spy on you, returning a few seconds later with a smile on her face.

"Yup, Daddy, she's still watching TV," She announced, proudly. "And she didn't see me."

"Great job," Dante chuckled, giving the cake batter a good stir.

Today was Mother's Day, and like any loving family, Dante and your lovely 5 year old daughter were fixing up a surprise for you. Earlier, Dante sat you on the couch and turned on your favorite show, ordering you to relax and just enjoy the afternoon. You'd taken the bait and were now absorbed in the aforementioned show while Dante and your daughter made a cake for you, destroying your kitchen in the process.

"OK, now what do we do?" Dante asked, pouring the cake mixture into a glass dish.

"It says chill it." Replied your daughter, walking over and opening the fridge. Dante, slid the dish of cake mixture into the fridge, set the timer, and sighed.

"Great job, Princess," He said, playfully missing up her hair. "Now, go wash your hands and you can go play, I'll keep an eye on the cake."

"OK, Daddy," Said your daughter, grinning.

Several hours later, the cake was ready to be served. You, Dante, and your daughter especially, enjoyed it. After all the food had been eaten and your daughter had been pu to bed, you and Dante had a quiet moment to yourselves, where your dark worries came out.

Dante knew that you and your mother had a rather strained, uncomfortable relationship due to her controlling and obsessive, tiger-mom behavior in the past, and knew that unlike him, you never had the joy of feeling safe around your mother. You always had to put on an act to appease her, never being able to be yourself around her. He never brought this topic up in conversation because he didn't want to upset you, so the matter went largely undiscussed.

Tonight, however, was a different story. Tonight, you started tearfully divulging your fears to Dante, as you lay in his lap.

"I'm just...just worried that someday I'm gonna become like my mom," You told him, tears welling up in your eyes. "You know the saying, like mother like daughter. I don't want our little girl to go through that...I don't want her to have to deal with that pressure, I don't want her to put on an act when I'm around her. I don't want to be like that."

Dante let out a small sigh, running his fingers through your hair.

"Baby, don't talk like that, you're not gonna grow up to be like that old bitch--"

"But you don't know that!" You cried, burying your face in his lap, soaking his pants with tears. "You don't know that. I don't know that. I-"

You were cut off when a sleepy little voice called from the hallway, startling you.

"Mommy?" Called your daughter, stumbling forwards in her pajamas, one chubby fist rubbing her eye. "Are you sad?"

Both you and Dante were speechless for a moment; all you two could do was watch as she continued padding forwards, a concerned little pout on her face.

"Daddy, why is Mommy sad?" She asked. You immediately sat up, straightening your clothes and hair, though you were unable to hide your red, puffy, teary eyes.

"Mommy's not sad," Dante said slowly, trying to figure out a way to hide the truth from your little girl. "She's just..uhh...tired. Yeah, just like you when you get tired, Mommy cries."

"Really?" Your daughter asked, wide eyed. "Grown ups do that too?"

"Yup," Dante nodded, relieved his lie had worked. "I'd better put both of you to bed now, it's getting really late."

You chuckled as the man stood up, lifted your daughter into his arms, and carried her to the bedroom, with you following behind.

"Hey, Daddy?" Your daughter asked, as you neared her room. "Do you cry when you get tired too?"

You and Dante exchanged a brief glance before he answered,

"Yes, I do."

"Does Uncle Vergil cry when he's sleepy too?" Your daughter inquired, now very intrigued.

"Yes, he does," Dante affirmed, laughing. "Now shush, it's time for bed." With that, your daughter's curiosity was sated, and after being tucked in bed, looked ready to fall asleep.

"Night baby," You said, kissing her forehead.

"Night-night Mommy," She whispered, yawning. "I love you. You'e a great mommy."

Dante gave her a kiss and a tickle, and afterwards, he guided you back to the living room, glad to see a smile return to your face.

"See, babe? She seems to think you're a great mom."

"I...guess...yeah," You admitted, shrugging.

"And she ain't the only one," Dante told you. "I think you're an excellent mom too. Hell, you're just as good as my mom was."

"You really think so?" You asked, blushing slightly.

"I know so," Dante chuckled, leaning forwards and kissing you. "Now come on, let's get you to bed before you get too tired and crying again." You laughed at that, the small smile on your face widening into a big, happy grin.

"Thanks, Dante," You said, resting your head on your husband's chest as he scooped you into his arms and carted you off to the bedroom. "I love you...and thank you for...well...telling me what I needed to hear."

"I love you too, babe, and don't think it's just something you needed to hear," Dante said, patting your shoulder as he walked. "It's also the truth."

[takenbypeter]

Food Not For The Fainthearted

Adam Warlock x reader

Words: 1378

“Okay sit down, but keep your eyes shut,” Adam instructed as he placed you in front of a chair.

Your smile deepened as he did so, clear excitement audible in his words. 

Adam has only been on this skull planet for a year now but he hadn’t really made a true friend on this planet until a couple months in when he met you. You made him feel welcomed here. With you he wasn’t at all embarrassed or fearful that you would judge him if he didn’t know a common thing, being that he was only taken out of his pod recently. 

One of the things he enjoyed about you was that you truly took the time to explain things to him and then let him analyze things. One of the things he explored with you was food. Now of course Adam knew what food was and its purpose. He just wasn’t aware there was such a variety of sustenance. With you he discovered his likes, dislikes, how to mix some foods together in recipes, it was truly all new to him. But after some time he gained the hang of it. 

He was so grateful towards you, which is why he wanted to express his thanks. And he thought, what better way than to cook you a meal. Which is what brought you to where you are now, sitting in front of a meal with your eyes closed. He had no help from you and didn’t even give you a hint as to what the meal was, clearly wanting the dish to remain a surprise…until now.

“Okay open your eyes,” he encouraged and as soon as your lids opened, (after blinking at the sudden light), they shifted downwards towards the plate placed in front of you. 

“Chicken stir fry?!” You asked not expecting this type of dish.

“Not just any chicken stir fry. Spicy chicken stir fry,” he corrected, proudly. At the mention of that the crinkle around your eyes relaxed while you tried to keep your smile on display, “oh wow, spicy chicken stir fry…” you repeated. 

Yes, you and Adam had tried different foods together and you were the one to introduce him to different spices and such but it seems that he didn’t notice how you never actually ate any of the spicy foods. It wasn’t the fact that you just didn’t like it, it was more of the fact that some of the spicy items would inflame your taste buds which just wasn’t exactly your favorite feeling in the world. 

But were you going to tell this poor man who looked just so eager for you to try the first dish he’s ever made? Of course not.

“It looks appetizing,” you stated, which was the truth. 

“Thanks, I can't wait for you to try it.”

After making sure you had a glass of water sitting beside you, you stuck the utensil into the dish making sure you got enough. Lifting up the portion you smiled at Adam who was watching you eagerly. And with that final glance you put the portion in your mouth. 

It took all of your acting skills, (which wasn’t exactly the best), to give a smile and pretend it was all okay. Granted the food was delicious but you could already feel the heat sticking to the back of our throat. 

“Mmm, delicious,” you said, mouth hiding behind your hand as the food just hovered in your mouth. Adam grinned widely as he looked down to take his spoonful. In the split second that he does you're already breathing out hot air, trying to do so subtly. 

Obviously there’s no real way of breathing out subtly and Adam picked his gaze back up, looking at you questionably. 

You waved your hand at him, “it’s just a little hot.”

“Oh, yeah I added extra sauce cause I really liked the kick it offered when we tried it awhile ago.”

Your eyes widened at the word extra before you composed yourself, “yup that explains it.” You could practically feel the taste buds on the tip of your tongue starting to appear bumpy, while your nose felt as if it had begun to run. 

Placing your utensil down you take a sip of water, which of course barely helps, if it does at all. Setting the cup down you mentally give yourself a pep talk, he went to all this effort to make you a meal. 

You got your utensil ready taking one more small amount in, of course this just causes more damage to the scene. Quickly swallowing the food, figuring that was better than spitting it out you then grabbed the water before gulping it down leaving just about less than half. 

It was when you placed it down and met Adam’s eyes that you realized just how crazy you probably looked. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking concerned. 

You debated for a split second if you should just tell him the truth or pretend everything was okay. You didn’t want to crush his feelings but you didn’t want to burn yourself as well. 

You placed your utensil down, a little more aggressively than you expected, but you blame that on the burning sensation, “Adam this meal is delicious. It’s beautiful, so well put together, I love it.”

His body physically perks up at your words, his shoulders straightening out. 

“But my body just doesn’t get along well with spicy foods.”

Judging from the expression that overcame his face this seemed like news to him, “what do you mean? We’ve had spicy foods together.”

“Yes…but no,” his eyes looked up in thought clearly trying to recall that day while you continued, “when we tried spicy foods, you ate all the food, I just sort of recommended and watched.”

Adam’s jaw dropped. 

“Oh that’s just terrible.”

“It’s fine,” you coughed out, throat hot, “it’s still delicious.”

“No, not the food. The fact that you are always being so kind to me, teaching me my likes and dislikes, and I clearly haven’t been paying any attention to you!”

“Oh please Adam…” you tried to brush off it wasn’t really a big deal.

“No it’s true. I don’t know your likes, your dislikes, I don’t even know you!” 

“You know me—“

Adam’s eyes turned into an intense shade of yellow before they practically lasered your plate into dust.

“How dumb must I be that I didn’t even notice you don’t like spicy food!”

Apparently this was hitting him a lot harder than you expected.

“That’s it…” you pushed your napkin to the side as you slammed your hands on the table standing up while you did so. That caused his own tantrum to pause.

 “You are not dumb! The fact that you say that infuriates me! You were just excited in trying new tastes that’s all.” 

It wasn’t much but that seemed to do the trick as his next words seemed less angry and more disappointed, “I’m just upset because I want to know you. I want to know your likes and dislikes. This whole time I thought we were getting closer but you’ve just been getting closer while I’ve been standing in the same exact spot.”

You hadn’t realized he felt so deeply about this—about you in that way. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t noticed things. 

“Just cause you don’t know my likes doesn’t mean you don’t know me. You know me Adam…” he still looked dejected, obviously upset about his lack of awareness. “Okay look, you can start learning things about me right now. Better late than never right?”

Adam pondered this over. “Plus you just found out something I don’t like, spicy food!”

His head shifted from side to side mulling this over before ultimately agreeing, “…okay,” he said, a sly smile sneaking its way onto his face.

“There we go, now that's a better attitude,” you grinned before your eyebrows pushed together suddenly focused on the burnt ash on the table. “I know you were upset but you didn’t have to go and burn the food you’ve made, it was still delicious.”

Adam’s smile turned into a more bashful one, “yeah it was a bit dramatic…But come on, let me make you something you will like.”

[saccharineomens]

I wrote another excerpt from my fic!

During the feast at the end of the manga, Marcille re-connects with Fionil and Doni. Some secrets about Fionil are about to come to light, however… (1.6k words)

—

Stuffed. Stuffed was the only word that came to Marcille’s mind right then. She’d been eating as much as she could since she woke up that morning, taking bites in-between helping Senshi prepare vegetables and stock for soups until she was fit to burst. It had been taking real effort to keep up the momentum, but she wasn’t about to slack off just when they were making real progress with eating the Chimera. Was this plan to revive Falin going to work? Marcille didn’t even know. But the food was good, and the company was great, and even if it didn’t work, even if Falin didn’t come back…Marcille didn’t regret one second of it. 

The weather had held steady all week, making it much easier to do all the cooking and feasting and merry-making. If Marcille closed her eyes and imagined some tents selling wares, this would almost feel like a festival. As it was, people as far away as the southern coast of the island had made their way here to partake in the free food and the celebration, and some bards had set up and started busking for loose change and a warm meal, and Marcille couldn’t remember a time things felt so joyous. Her steps felt light even as she strolled around taking in the sights of happy guests and drunk revelers. 

A blue cloak and a flash of blonde hair passed her, and Marcille spun with the excitement of recognition. “Ah!” she exclaimed in surprise. “You’re those adventurers we met on the second floor!”

The girl had her hood pulled far over her face, but the young man at her left gave a reassuring nod before at smiling apologetically at Marcille. “Yes, I was attacked by the basilisk.” He proudly held up a bowl of stew. “Doing our part to help Laios out.”

Marcille grinned. “Doni, right? And Fionil?”

“Shh, please,” Fionil whispered, eyes darting around, and she held a finger up to her lips. “Let’s speak elsewhere.”

Marcille didn’t understand her timidity, but she had no reason to suspect any ill will from the two fledgling adventurers. With a shrug, she trailed behind Fionil’s hurried escape as they left the crowd.

[continued under the cut!]

The two of them led her to the very edge of the clearing near a thick grove of evergreens, needle-heavy branches brushing the ground like a curtain of privacy. There was no table to speak of, but Fionil knelt on some dead leaves and placed her bowl on her lap. It was some of the pulled and roasted meat, simmered with vegetables. The soup had been pretty tasty, but a little bland, in Marcille’s opinion. Senshi hadn’t directly overseen that dish, so it hadn’t had his special touch.

Doni sat cross-legged next to Fionil and offered her a napkin, which she accepted with down-cast eyes.

“Are you…hiding from someone?” Marcille asked. She looked over her shoulder, but there was no obvious sign that anyone was paying them attention at all.

Fionil sighed. “Yes.” She pushed her hood back, finally, glancing up at Marcille with mournful blue eyes. 

“Oh, I never noticed,” Marcille said softly, a hand coming up to her mouth in shock.  “When we helped you with the basilisk, we were so busy preparing the medicine…” She trailed off. “You’re a half-elf.”

Fionil looked back at her lap. “I am,” she said solemnly. “I’m hiding from the Canaries.”

“The Canaries? What would the Canaries want with you?” After all, it’s not like Fionil had been performing highly illegal ancient magic. Unless she was. Such a shy and unassuming elf performing bold and advanced magic yet almost dying to a basilisk was a pretty hilarious image.

Fionil didn’t respond right away, chewing her lip, and Doni put a hand over her arm. “It’s okay, Fionil. We can trust Marcille.” He raised his head. “She was a spy for the Canaries.”

“Doni!” 

Marcille was as agape as Fionil.

“Well, it’s not true any longer, is it?” Doni said, smiling. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But you…you’re so…” Fionil’s cheeks got pinker, and her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, I still can’t believe you don’t hate me!”

Marcille raised her hands to slow them. “Wait, wait. A spy? How exactly were you a spy??” She was so….’easily defeated’, was a kind way of putting it. Her being some sneaky, cunning shadow didn’t fit.

Fionil looked away again, brow pinched with anxiety. “I’m from the Central North Continent, yes. But I wasn’t a Canary. Mixed-bloods aren’t allowed. Not that I wanted to join them.”

The girl fidgeted with her skirt, causing her bowl to rock dangerously, and Doni moved it to the solid ground. Fionil’s mouth quirked a small smile, and her posture relaxed some. “I’m just a mage the Canaries hired to report on the city outside of the Dungeon. They paid me to inform them if they needed to intervene.” Her head snapped up suddenly, eyes wide. “But I didn’t tell them to come here! I swear! I haven’t sent them correspondence in months!”

Doni’s other hand went to cover Fionil’s, and Marcille watched as he gave it a gentle squeeze. Despite her questions and alarm, Marcille couldn’t help how the sweet gesture tugged at her heartstrings. “Take a breath. Tell her what you told me.”

Fionil sniffed and rubbed at her eyes, her cheeks all the redder with Doni’s touch. “When I met Doni…” She cast a furtive glance toward him and gave a watery smile. “He was so curious about the Dungeon. He didn’t want riches. He didn’t see the Dungeon as a source of all evil, like the elves did. It was the adventure that called to him. He told me how he’d grown up in a small world, and how he’d wanted to see it with his own eyes.” She put her other hand over Doni’s, a tear slipping down her cheek as hope entered her voice. “I started avoiding the Canaries. I didn’t want to go home again. The Western Continent isn’t home to me, anymore, my home is here. With Doni.” She looked back at Marcille, pleading. “And with Laios, and the kingdom he wants to create…I want to see it. I don’t want anything to do with the Canaries ever again.”

As romantic as this whole story was, Marcille remained cautious. Everything with the Canaries had turned out alright so far, since the Queen hadn’t ordered any immediate war on the way, but Fionil’s loyalty was still under question. “Don’t you have family back home? Friends?”

“My mother passed, and my father is distant,” Fionil sniffed, rubbing her tears away with the palm of her hand. “I never could get close to anyone, as a half-elf…to the elves, I’m an inferior race, and to the humans, I’m a proud elf.”

Just that one sentence struck Marcille like a bolt of lightning. She saw herself reflected in Fionil, like a mirror. No one her age to befriend, only her parents to spend time with. And at the academy, every gnome and human student was decades younger than her. Even Falin…

“I know how you feel,” Marcille said emphatically, springing forward to take Fionil’s hands, and Fionil startled at her intensity. “I grew up here in the East, among humans, but it was the same for me.” Well, at least she didn’t have elves looking down upon her like Fionil did. But her father, and the court her mother worked at, it was all tall-men. Dwarves were rare, and she hadn’t seen a half-foot until coming to the island. The empty hills and her mother’s garden were the most comforting friends to her.

Fionil blinked at Marcille, jaw dropped. Her face was an open book, she’d clearly never been trained for politics or espionage. The Canaries had probably picked her because she was so much more unassuming than someone as straight-laced and professional as Pattadol.

Marcille grinned and squeezed Fionil’s hands. “It’s okay, Fionil. I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. The Canaries don’t like me much, either.”

Doni laughed and shook her shoulder. “Isn’t that wonderful? I told you Marcille would understand!” He picked up Fionil’s bowl and held it out to her, and she pulled her hands from Marcille’s to take it with a shy thank you.

The kind concern Doni showed Fionil was unbelievably sweet, especially since he was so young. Was he younger than Falin? But the attention he showed Fionil felt more akin to something Marcille’s father did to comfort her mother when she was upset…

“Are you two…together?” Marcille asked, tilting her head.  Hadn’t they had a full party of adventurers with them when Marcille last saw them in the dungeon? There was no sign of them now, but Doni and Fionil were still glued at the hip.

“What?!” Fionil flushed deeply, and even Doni looked a little more sheepish as he scratched at the back of his neck and shuffled aside to give them some distance. “I don’t— I mean— W-what made you think that?!”

Not yet then. Marcille waved a dismissive hand and smiled placatingly. “Oh, it’s nothing! I was just jumping to conclusions.” Maybe they would figure it out, someday. Fionil must be quite young, then, too. First love? That was *soooo* cute. Already the gears were turning in Marcille’s head to see if she could encourage them to admit their feelings for each other…

“It was great to see you both again,” Marcille said, holding out a hand for a shake. “I should get back to cooking, but I look forward to seeing you again soon.” It wasn’t clear if she and Fionil would become best friends, but it would be nice indeed to have another half-elf around to talk to. 

They both reached for her hand at the same time, blushed, and Doni retracted his while Fionil took Marcille’s. There was a small smile on her face, and even with her eyes reddened from crying, her smile was strong enough to outshine the sun. “A pleasure to meet you again, Marcille. Visit me any time you please.”

Oh, Marcille had plans to.

[udretlnea]

A Conundrum at Cotea Cafe

Inspired by @kunichigo (Owner of the Cotea Cafe concept. Go follow them. They're cool...!)

Prompt: A customer arrives at the Cotea Cafe just before closing time, and he brings a message.

A/N: Hey, been a while, though for those following y’all know I'm still active. Fyi btw you can expect more of these shenanigans prompts in the future; I just want to try to write for fun while getting checkpoints on my growth at the same time. Anyway, enjoy.

“Don’t go dimension hopping soon,” he said with utter seriousness. “Or else you'll end up hurt.”

You widen your eyes. Your hands suddenly felt limp as you processed the threat-no, it was a warning.

///

20 minutes earlier…

You relaxed into your seat as your eyes scanned the page in the light novel; it was about a samurai who was thrust into the future where Teyvat was taken over by a demon with a robot army. You pictured the samurai facing off against an army of Ruin machines with nothing but his magic sword. The scene felt so vivid you thought you could see it in your mind.

You turned the page to continue when you heard the bell rung. Somebody had entered the cafe!

You placed a bookmark in between the pages and got up. You stretched your legs, feeling the circulation return. Making your way to the front, you frowned.

Who could be here at this time? Last I checked, the sun was nearly setting…

When you opened the door to the dining area, you expected to see the Traveler and Paimon. A teenager in a white and gray hoodie looked at you with brown eyes. He had black hair and youthful features; he put on a friendly smile while inertinghis hands in his pockets.

“Hello po,” he said in a meek voice. “Is this…a cafe?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He put a hand on his chest. “Um, are you open?”

You smiled amicably. “Of course! Would you like to look at a menu?”

He nodded, but his hand didn’t fall to the side. “My name is…Aaron. It’s nice to meet you.”

He took a seat at one nearby one of the windows. You grabbed a nearby menu and handed it to him; while he was reading it with interest, you couldn’t help but stare at him. He didn’t appear to be from any of the nations, at least judging from his clothing. It looked like something one might wear at home. Furthermore, he seemed to know about this place despite the remoteness of this location.

“Excuse me, but do you happen to have…peach mango pie?” His question snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Yes! Would you like that?” He blinked shyly and shook his head.

“No. I was just curious,” he clarified. He pointed at a line of words. “I’ll have a halo-halo please.”

“Sure!” You turned towards the kitchen, deciding to pick up your train of thought after making his dish. Ten minutes later you come back with a tall glass cup full of halo-halo.

“Sal-salamat po��thank you.” He nodded to the glass. You set it down in front of him; he takes a moment to silently observe it. A happy smile slowly forms on his face. “Ah, it looks delicious.”

He gave a brief prayer before picking up the spoon and mixing it.

You decided now was the perfect time to leave him and fiddle away your time; it usually didn’t take long to finish Halo-Halo so you went back to the kitchen to reorganize.

You tidied the kitchen up by cleaning the tools you used to make halo-halo. When you just about finished, the sound of the spoon clattering in an empty cup made you look up.

“I’ve finished,” Aaron announced almost proudly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pouch. He put it next to his empty cup and you heard the sound of Mora clinking; he got up and turned to the door. You made your way to where he sat. The Mora pouch was moderate-sized. A quick calculation told you that he overpaid. You were about to stop him from leaving, but you saw that he was standing a couple feet from you. He looked at you as if he could peer past your mask.

“...Pardon me, but you’re like me, aren’t you.” Aaron put a hand on his hip. “You’re also a...Creator”

You felt the urge to suppress a wave of panic. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Well, they call them Creators. You probably know them as writers. Self-inserts,” he explained. He shook his head. “My apologies for the strange question, and for offending you, if I did. I just thought I finally found someone to talk to. I…can leave if you want. It’s no trouble.”

Rather than tell him to do just that, you waved him off. “It’s fine. Are you one as well?”

“I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

You examine his form, searching for anything that could tell that he’s lying. When you found none, you shrugged. “...Sure. Although I’m currently living out my cottage-core fantasy at the moment. I don’t care for the stuffy paperwork that comes with being in charge of an entire continent."

“Same. And cottage-core is cool, but I never can find the time to do that. Not that I-not that I deserve anything good,” A moment of silence passed as they let that information process. Internally, you felt a strange sense of kinship beginning to form in your gut. It was certainly strange to find another being like yourself standing in front of you, but given that he was similar, or perhaps greater in power than you it made sense to desire to travel to other branches of the SAGAU multiverse.

“Well, with pleasantries out of the way, um…I actually came here to deliver a message for you,” he said. He raised his hands in the air as if he thought it would ease the anxiety in the atmosphere. “Not-not from any of the Archons, I mean. From me.”

“Eh?” This suddenly turned interesting. What could he possibly have to tell you? He took a deep breath and stared into your eyes.

“Don’t go dimension hopping soon,” Aaron said with utter seriousness. “Or else you'll end up hurt.”

You widen your eyes. Your hands suddenly felt limp as you processed the threat-no, it was a warning.

Aaron bit his lip. His eyes darted from side to side as if he were engaged in an intense internal debate. After a couple seconds, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of flash cards. He flipped through them until he stopped at one “No, but for your own safety, I advise not traveling to other universes in SAGAU until They give you the signal that it’s safe. That's all. Thank you for your time, and the food. I hope your story has a happy ending.”

He put away the flash cards and turned around. Then, he placed a hand on the door knob. But he couldn’t leave yet, not when your interest was piqued!

“Wait,” you interrupt. He turns his head back at you with a surprised look “This…thing that’s going to happen? Call it intuition, but I can't help but feel like it'll be terrible, especially for you. Are you.. alright?”

Aaron simply smiled knowingly. His eyes were glossy. “Thank you for your concern. No, but I will be soon. Ingat po…goodbye."

He opened the door and stepped outside; just as it shut there was a flash of light. When you opened it again to look for him, Aaron was gone.

Something hung in the air, but you weren’t sure what it was. Was this regret, awkwardness, or ominousness? Perhaps it was a mixture of all three.

With nothing else to do, you took the empty glass back and cleaned it. Then you flipped the sign to CLOSED before making your way to the backroom. You reclined back into the comfy chair, settling into the plush cushion. You picked up the book, opened to the bookmarked page, and resumed reading.

///

The next day you wake up and found posters plastered in front of your door; they informed you that several AUs and ATs were missing and that creator deities had been displaced. Furthermore, it advised everyone to stay calm and continue their routines while this incident was sorted.

Suffice it to say you were grateful when the Traveler brought Paimon, Yae Miko, the Raiden Shogun, Arataki Itto, and Gorou with them. A distraction was just what you needed. They kept you busy, dodging questions and cooking them food. They left and you closed the cafe for the day.

When you woke up, the posters you collected were gone, replaced with a single white sheet of paper with the words, "THE PRIOR INCIDENT HAS BEEN RECTIFIED. THANK YOU TO THOSE WHO FOLLOWED DIRECTIONS." -M.

You wondered if Aaron was alright and if whatever happened yesterday was related to him. It was clear you weren't getting any answers soon. With a sigh, you head back into your cottage to get ready for the day.

[sorrownotsexy]

Hi yall !! Thinking about Alejandro in the states. And he meets the love of his life there because she burns his mouth. 

He's homesick. He’s usually away from home but at least he’s in Mexico most of the time. But the states suck and they’re nothing like home. 

He's hungry too. And he’s sick of MREs fast food and hotel breakfast. But a starving man would dirt so he’s walking to the nearest McDonalds when he sees the truck. 

A big ol p30 painted black with rainbow calaveras and a luchador eating a taco. There’s a mom and four kiddos and the truck is bouncing from the people inside? 

The door opens up to a girl looking like a 50’s Cola ad in a long black skirt to her calves and hair braided with a bandana catching sweat in the hot truck, bounding out of the truck to get tackled by the youngest two. She hugged the babies who danced with her to the music that got louder when the door opened. 

La Chona filled his ears and he smiled. That explained the bouncing of the truck the people had been dancing inside. 

The family had been distracted when the girl caught the handsome soldier smiling at her teaching the babies how to step with the music and she burst into embarrassed laughter. 

She got back in the truck and mom moved to let the young man place his order. He stepped up to the window and greeted her with a smile and a “hola señora, buenas tardes-” to be interrupted by her stepping back and giving him a hand motion that said wait.

“Daddy, he speaks spanish” 

“So do you.” the dad replied not giving her any help

“No-”

“Take his order mija he’s gonna leave”

She knew her dad wasn’t going to help her so she turned to the man and smiled apologetically. “Uh lo siento soy no sabo?” she said, searching for the proper response. She was pretty sure she apologized incorrectly.

“Right?” she asked her dad who shrugged and laughed at her struggling. 

“Um qué quieres?”

“I’ll take a number seven” he smiled

The men of the truck roared in laughter “Oh of course” she huffed, frustrated she should have just asked in the first place if he spoke english. She smiled anyway though and asked him about sauces. 

“¿Qué es el asesino?” he asked with a snort

She smiled and leaned down as if it was some big secret “The hottest salsa in the west. Me and my Lita make it ourselves. Supposedly it’s the cause of death for John Disp, a grown man.” she giggled as she finished telling how it got the name.

“Oh now I have to try it.” he grinned

“Ya sure? Don’t wanna ruin your day.”

“I can handle it.” she laughed at him. 

Her brother packed the man's five tacos, rice, beans and fork with the killer salsa for him. She gave him one last warning and he laughed it off so she traded him the dish in exchange for twelve dollars. 

He sat down to eat his food feeling less homesick seeing a big family when he felt eyes on him. All eight members of the family were watching him waiting for the first bite with salsa, the girl standing with an extra large cup of horchata over ice. He laughed to himself and took the bite. 

Just to be cocky he piled a lot on his first bite “¡CHINGADA MADRE!” and the whole family cackled. The girl went up to him holding the horchata which he all but snatched to drink down. 

Still laughing and wiping tears the girl asked if he’d like some sour cream “Yes! Fuck, now!” he was breathing through his mouth and had tears rise. 

One of the babies came up with a small lidded container of sour cream which he snatched to let melt on his tongue. Another one of the babies brought him napkins. He wiped his nose and took another swig of horchata. He was fine after that but the sting was still there. 

The mom took the kids back in the car after and the brother and dad went back to the truck. “What in the fuck do you even put in that? Jesus.” 

She laughed, wiping more tears “I grow the serranos and cilantro” she said a little proudly.

“Oh so they’re bred to kill?” 

“Something like that” she smiled but had to head back to the truck as a new customer appeared. 

The colonel finished his meal being mindful of how heavy he placed the salsa on his food. When the other customer was sitting eating their food he placed a put in the tip jar. “Para la horchata.” and left back to his hotel with a full stomach and a smile.

[pintsizemama]

Holiday Stress

Day 28

Summary: Javi helps Ari de-stress after the holidays.

Pairings: Javier Peña x OFC Ariana Morgan—DEA Agent and daughter of Pablo Escobar

Fandom: Narcos

Rating: Explicit 18+ ONLY

Warnings: language, SMUT, oral (f rec), vaginal fingering

Word Count: 801

Heroes & Heartbreak Masterlist

Day 27 Day 29 Christmas Masterlist Main Masterlist AO3 Join my taglist

“Hey, baby,” Javi murmured in Ari’s ear as he wrapped his arms around her from behind. She was washing the dishes from breakfast. He kissed the side of her neck and squeezed her tight. Ari murmured a greeting. She was tense. Javi knew the holidays were always a bit stressful, and he could see his girl needed to relax a bit now that Christmas was over. “Pop, Steve, and Connie want to take the kids to the park and then out for lunch.”

“Ok,” Ari replied. “I’m almost done with this, and then I’ll get ready.”

“Let me rephrase that, querida,” Javi said. “Pop, Steve, and Connie want to take the kids alone to the park and then to lunch.”

“What? Why?”

“I may have told them I want some alone time with my gorgeous wife,” Javi said seductively.

“Javier!” Ari gasped. “You did not try to pawn our three kids off and tell our friends—and your father—you want to fuck me!”

“I did,” Javi smiled proudly. “And I didn’t try to pawn off our kids. I successfully pawned them off. They all left about five minutes ago.”

“What?” Ari almost shrieked.

“We all knew you’d never take the help if given the choice, so we took care of it,” Javi said simply. “Now put those dishes down and follow me.” Ari tossed the dish in the sink and wiped her hands dry.

“Javier Peña, I cannot believe you right now!” Oh, she looked pissed. He was going to have to work extra hard to relax her. He grabbed her hand and dragged her to their bedroom. He pushed her down gently to lay on her back on the bed. She immediately pushed up into her elbows.

“You have been running yourself ragged since the twins were born,” Javi told her in his no nonsense voice. “I know how stressful everything has been—especially having the twins first Christmas so far from home. Now, lay back, and let me take care of my wife.”

“What do you mean?” Ari asked suspiciously.

“I mean, we have the house to ourselves for at least an hour,” Javi explained, “and I’m going to bury my face in your pussy until you come at least three times.”

“Oh,” Ari said quietly. She lay back. “Why didn’t you lead with that?” Javi chuckled and made quick work of removing her pants and underwear.

“Mmm, I love your pussy,” Javi groaned. Without any preamble, he dove in. Ari arched her back in pleasure as his tongue slide across her clit. It had been a couple weeks since he’d had the opportunity to go down on his gorgeous wife. Fuck. Never again. He needed her like he needed air. He swiped his fingers through her wetness and slid two inside. He wrapped his lips around her clit and suckled gently. She was writhing and panting. He knew she was getting close.

“Oh, Javi, right there,” she moaned.

“You wanna come, mi amor?” He murmured against her swollen flesh.

“Please,” she whimpered. He stroked his fingers along her g-spot and sucked her clit back into his mouth. A few passes and she exploded in his mouth.

“Fuck! Yes! Yes! Yes!” She screamed out. He was glad he had kicked everyone out of the house because his wife was loud. She shivered almost violently as the final tremors of her release faded.

“That’s one,” Javi said with a smirk before diving right back in. An hour—and three more orgasms later—Ari lay in his arms in the bed,

“That was incredible, Javi,” she said softly. “I really needed that. Thank you.”

“Believe me, it was very much my pleasure.”

“I want to return the favor, but my body won’t move,” she laughed exhaustedly.

“Don’t worry about me, I’m covered,” Javi said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Javi looked a little embarrassed.

“Javi?”

“You were so fucking hot when you came that last time….I, uh…well, I came in my pants.”

“What?” Ari asked in shock.

“Don’t look so surprised,” Javi said with a laugh. “We haven’t been able to fuck since we got here. I was backed up, and you’re so fucking sexy it was bound to happen.”

“I’m not gonna lie, Javier,” Ari said, “that’s really fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” she nodded. “If I wasn’t orgasmed out, I’d demand you fuck me right now.” Javi laughed.

“How about you take a nap while I take a shower?” He suggested.

“Ok,” Ari agreed with a yawn. He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” she murmured back before falling asleep. Javi smiled and smoothed her hair back. He felt awe and joy that it was his responsibility to take care of this amazing woman.

Day 29

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[knoepfl]

Love & Scooby Snacks: Shaggy’s Anniversary Surprise

Characters: - Shaggy Rogers  - S/O (Shaggy’s girlfriend)  - Scooby-Doo 

Trigger Warning: This story includes mentions of food allergies and mild scares in a lighthearted, humorous style.

Masterlist

Words: 1926

---

The day had finally arrived. The day you had circled and starred on your calendar three months ago. Today was your anniversary with Shaggy Rogers—the sweet, slightly goofy guy who made you laugh every day. You’d spent weeks planning the perfect celebration, and now you were in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on an elaborate home-cooked meal, hoping that it would make the evening truly special.

Knowing Shaggy’s love of food (and his massive appetite), you’d planned a menu that might just rival a feast. You’d even taken some cooking classes to surprise him with dishes that went beyond sandwiches and Scooby Snacks. Tonight would be a blend of romance and fun, just the way Shaggy liked it.

You looked at the clock. He’d be here any minute now, so you set out the last dish on the table—a layered lasagna with fresh garlic bread, perfectly browned and dripping with melted cheese.

When you heard the front door creak open, you ran over to greet him, wiping your hands on your apron as Shaggy stepped inside with his usual lazy smile and twinkling eyes. He held a bouquet of wildflowers—colorful, a bit messy, but somehow perfect. Just like him.

“Like, hey, babe!” Shaggy grinned, holding out the bouquet, which smelled faintly of… hamburgers? You chuckled and took the flowers, feeling your cheeks warm.

“These are beautiful, Shaggy. Thank you!” You reached up and hugged him, breathing in his familiar scent, mixed with what you could only assume was a fast-food restaurant.

He blushed and shuffled his feet. “Anything for you, ya know? I can’t believe it’s been, like, a whole year already!”

You led him to the dining room, where the table was set with a cozy candlelit atmosphere, the savory aroma of your cooking filling the room. Shaggy’s eyes widened when he saw the spread.

“Zoinks! Did you, like, make all this?”

“All for you!” you said, smiling proudly. “I wanted to do something special. Tonight, you get to sit back and enjoy.”

You pulled out his chair, and he grinned as he sat down, already eyeing the food. “Like, wow, babe, I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy! You’re amazing!”

He reached for a plate, but you laughed, lightly slapping his hand away. “Not yet! We’re going to start with appetizers.”

Shaggy’s shoulders slumped, but he was quick to bounce back, giving you a little salute. “Yes, ma’am!”

You brought over the first course: mini mozzarella sticks and garlic-parmesan breadsticks with marinara sauce. Shaggy dove in, savoring each bite with a happy sigh. “This is, like, the best meal ever already! And it’s just the beginning!”

As the night continued, you brought out one dish after another. Spaghetti carbonara, cheesy garlic mashed potatoes, crispy onion rings, and a whole tray of sliders topped with everything Shaggy loved. By the time you brought out the main course, he was leaning back in his chair, rubbing his stomach and grinning at you with his lazy smile.

“Like, babe, if I wasn’t already in love, I’d fall all over again just from this lasagna,” he said, taking another huge bite. “You’re, like, a miracle worker in the kitchen.”

But as you settled down to eat your own food, you couldn’t shake a feeling of unease that began creeping up your spine. The house was quiet… too quiet. You shook it off, smiling at Shaggy, who was busy devouring the lasagna with absolute delight.

Just as you leaned back to enjoy your meal, there was a sudden loud *thud* from the other room. Both of you froze, your eyes meeting. Shaggy looked at you with wide, nervous eyes.

“Did you, like… hear that?” he whispered, leaning forward and glancing around, his voice barely above a murmur.

You nodded slowly, trying to play it cool. “Probably just the wind, Shaggy. Let’s keep eating.”

But before you could take another bite, there was another sound—this time a scraping, like something dragging across the floor. Shaggy jumped, gripping his fork tightly, his face pale. “Uh… are you sure it’s the wind?”

You swallowed, feeling your pulse quicken. “Well, maybe not…”

With a low gulp, Shaggy got up, wiping his hands on his napkin, glancing nervously toward the door. “Like, maybe we should check it out… together.”

Taking his hand, you moved toward the noise, trying to ignore the racing of your heart. You opened the door to the hallway, peering into the dimness. Shaggy held onto your shoulder, practically hiding behind you as you stepped forward, his usual bravery long forgotten.

Another scraping sound came from the direction of the living room, and Shaggy whimpered. “L-Like, maybe we should, uh, go back to the table? That lasagna’s getting cold!”

But curiosity got the better of you. Steeling yourself, you walked down the hallway and slowly opened the door to the living room. The shadows seemed to loom larger than usual, and every creak of the floorboards underfoot made your stomach clench.

Then, just as you reached the center of the room, the lights went out.

Shaggy let out a yelp, clutching you tightly. “Z-Zoinks! We’re goners!”

“Shaggy, calm down!” you whispered, though you were trembling as much as he was. “There must be a logical explanation.”

A pair of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness, floating ominously before you. Shaggy screamed, holding you tighter. “I don’t need logic, babe—I need Scooby!”

But before you could react, the lights flickered back on, revealing… Scooby-Doo himself, wagging his tail and looking as clueless as ever. Shaggy’s jaw dropped as he stared at his best friend.

“Scooby-Doo! What are you doing here, buddy?”

Scooby gave a sheepish bark, his tail wagging. “Ruh-roh! Surprise!”

You laughed, relief flooding over you. “Looks like Scooby wanted to be part of our anniversary dinner!”

Shaggy grinned, pulling Scooby into a hug. “Like, I don’t know if my heart can take much more tonight! But I guess it’s not a meal without you, Scoob.”

With Scooby joining you, the three of you returned to the table, and you all dug into the food, laughing and reminiscing. It was a perfect anniversary—filled with food, a little bit of fright, and the friends you loved most.

And as you watched Shaggy feed Scooby a bite of lasagna with a happy grin, you realized that this was exactly where you wanted to be: surrounded by love, laughter, and the friends who made life an adventure every day.

---

After the laughter and the delicious food, the evening began to settle into a calm, happy quiet. Scooby stretched out on the couch, his eyes drooping as he nestled into one of the pillows. Shaggy was sprawled next to him, both looking thoroughly stuffed and content, their heads leaning back with blissful expressions.

You smiled to yourself, taking in the scene as you cleared the last few plates from the table and started stacking them by the sink. You didn’t mind doing the dishes tonight—not after such a wonderful anniversary dinner.

The kitchen was warm, the light casting a soft glow as you rolled up your sleeves and began rinsing the dishes. The sound of clinking plates and running water filled the room, and the cozy, contented feeling of the night wrapped around you like a blanket.

As you washed the dishes, you thought back on the evening—the food, the laughs, the little scare with Scooby. Every moment felt special, and having Shaggy here with you made it perfect.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice Shaggy sneaking up behind you. He leaned against the counter, watching you with that lazy, affectionate smile that made your heart skip a beat every time. After a moment, he stepped forward, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Like, you really outdid yourself tonight, babe,” he said softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy… or so full!”

You chuckled, leaning into his touch. “I’m glad you liked it. Tonight was special to me, too.”

Shaggy took a small step closer, his gaze warm and soft as he reached for a towel to dry one of the plates you’d set aside. “I, uh… I don’t know how I got so lucky, ya know? Finding someone who makes me feel like this.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you turned to look at him, your hands still dripping with soapy water. “You really think that?”

“Like, totally,” he said with a little chuckle, his cheeks flushing. “You’re, like, everything I could ever want. And more.”

The vulnerability in his voice surprised you, and you felt your own cheeks heating up as you looked down, suddenly shy. You wiped your hands on a dish towel, unsure of what to say. But then Shaggy reached out, gently tilting your chin up so you were looking at him again.

His gaze was tender, his usual playfulness replaced by something deeper. He leaned in, his hand still on your cheek as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Thanks for making me feel like I matter,” he murmured, his voice soft and a little shaky. “I’m, like, usually the guy who’s scared of everything… but with you, it’s different.”

You smiled, your heart swelling. “Shaggy, you’ve always mattered to me. You’re kind, and funny, and you have the biggest heart. You make me laugh, you’re always there when I need you… I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

For a moment, you both stood there, wrapped in each other’s warmth, the kitchen quiet except for the gentle hum of the lights above you. Shaggy’s thumb brushed across your cheek, his touch light and comforting, as if he was memorizing every part of this moment.

Slowly, he leaned down, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss, and you melted into him, your hand resting on his shoulder as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss was tender, filled with unspoken words and promises. When you finally pulled back, his eyes shone with a quiet joy, and you could feel his heartbeat echoing in the space between you.

“You make me feel brave,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Like, as long as I have you… I can handle anything.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder as he held you close, his hand gently rubbing your back in soothing circles. The two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other, letting the warmth of the moment surround you.

Eventually, Shaggy let out a soft laugh. “I, uh… I guess we should probably finish those dishes, huh?”

You chuckled, looking up at him with a smile. “Maybe… or we could just leave them for tomorrow.”

“Now you’re speaking my language, babe,” he said, grinning as he took your hand and led you back toward the living room.

Scooby let out a sleepy snore from the couch, his head resting on a pillow as he snoozed peacefully. Shaggy settled onto the couch beside him, pulling you close as you snuggled up together, his arm around your shoulders.

As you lay there together, the room quiet and still, you felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. This was where you belonged—by Shaggy’s side, sharing a love that felt as warm and comforting as the glow of the fading candlelight.

And as the night slipped away, you knew that this was just the beginning of many more anniversaries to come, each one filled with laughter, love, and all the little things that made your life with Shaggy so beautifully, wonderfully complete.

---

[insane-control-room]

fallen down (3/3)

Joey is invited to an art convention by Nathan. He goes, and is delighted by the turn of events. So much so, that he finds his dreams clashing again.

chapter 1: ink demonth - rival chapter 2: ink demonth - heartbeat chapter 3: ink demonth - hide

For @halfusek; inspired by his You Left Me in a Heartbeat :) Rated: G+ Warnings: unhealthy relationships, alcoholism, not actually cute AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58747897/chapters/149709112 Length: 1500

They went out to the park again, buying cheap (but good) sidecar food, drinking cool Coca-Cola, walking (or rolling) and talking for hours. They sketched the landscape together, Joey proudly presenting Henry with a drawing of the other man. It made Henry snort, roll his eyes- but he carefully folded it and put it in his breast pocket anyways. The gesture touched Joey's heart, swelling with joy.

Everything was perfect. Joey would never want it to be any other way.

Before they had left, Joey had placed a bottle of champagne into the refrigerator, and now that they returned, he smugly retrieved it- an expensive gift from Nathan, not that he would tell Henry, whose eyes widened with surprise, a smile blooming on his face once again.

"I'm going to take a shower, first," Henry apologetically told him, scratching at the back of his neck. "It's been... way too long since I've had one."

"No worries," Joey smiled at him, picturing Henry in the shower. Henry laughed at him, a flush going across his face as he easily recognized the ogling look his former business partner (boyfriend? were they boyfriends now?) was giving him, and he tossed a towel into Joey's face. "Fine. I'll go do the dishes. I see how it is."

Henry chuckled at him and rolled his eyes, slipping into the bathroom. Joey hummed as he cleaned the plates left for the last two days, thankful that his height allowed him to reach the sink from his wheelchair.

A ringing noise.

A phone was ringing.

Joey stilled, feeling an uncomfortable sensation in the core of his stomach and chest. His head gradually turned to look at the ringing phone, and he carefully moved to answer it.

"Um, this is the Stein residence," he said slowly, shifting in his seat. "Henry's not available right now."

"Joey!" Grant's voice was a slap in the face- a cold splash of ink reminding him of the studio. "I finally found where you were hiding out! I got Henry's number from Nathan- he didn't want to tell me where you were, but I have a way of dealing with stubborn people. Like you!"

"I'm not stubborn!" Joey gasped. "I'm... persistent!"

"Yes, Joey, I know," Grant's voice, while exasperated, was tinged with fondness, as well as concern. "You were supposed to be back on Tuesday at the latest, Joey. It's Friday- and after hours."

"I've got things to do, here, Grant," Joey waved off his worries. "I'm too busy."

"Oh, really," Grant's sarcastic grumble made Joey smile. "Busy with Henry, are you?"

Joey, flustered and flabbergasted, did not know what to say to that.

"In all seriousness, you need to come back to New York," Grant's voice had a bit of harried pleading to it. "The studio needs you."

"Nah, Grant, listen," Joey smiled- a smile that would have probably charmed Grant over, if he could see it. "You got this. I hired you to run the business, remember?"

"You hired me to do your paperwork, manage your funding, and do your taxes," Grant corrected him. "I cannot control the animators and force them to work. They're not working because the boss is vacationing in California. If the animators don't work, the animations don't get done. If the animations don't get done, we don't have anything to put on the air. We don't put anything on the air, we bleed cash. Understand?"

Joey's jaw clenched.

"And don't think I don't see those credit card statements running up," Grant cautioned. "All those fancy restaurants- they add up, Joey. You can't act like a butter and egg man."

"I don't want to go back yet." he forced himself to confess, desperately trying to figure out a way to work around the conundrum. "Can't I just work from here, and mail in the storyboards?"

"Mail is too slow, and still, not addressing the morale issue," Grant dismissed. Joey's hand tightened on the phone, almost fantasizing that it was Grant's throat. "You need to be here, Joey. There's no other way around it."

"I'm staying here."

"You can't hide from your responsibilities, Joey! If your ass is not in your office by Tuesday next week, my ass is out of your studio," Grant snapped. Joey struggled to process his accountant's words, jaw dropping open. "I'm giving you a warning, Joey. Consider this my two week's notice."

"Over the phone?" Joey weakly asked. Grant barked a laugh, and Joey could hear him scribbling something on a paper. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making two written copies," Grant replied. "One that's going on your desk, the other that I'm mailing to California. By the time it gets to you, time's probably going to be up."

"Wait, Grant, don't do this to me," it was Joey's turn to beg. "I- I'll figure something out, okay?"

"And you better figure out that your studio needs you more than you need to be with a washed out-" Grant cut himself off, taking in a deep breath. "A man who left you. I'll see you on Tuesday. And if I don't... well, I don't know if I'll see you ever again."

Joey's hand shook fiercely as he put the phone down. Rage and confusion cascaded through his veins, resulting in an uncomfortably hot chill. Joey could hear Henry humming in the bathroom, soothing him even as it made his nerves tighten considerably. He exhaled, turning back to the kitchen and slowly wheeling himself to the dishes.

Henry helped set the table this time, taking out the dinner they had prepared before going to the park. The anger in Joey's chest simmered down as the time passed between them with ease and comfort.

"Something on your mind, Joey?" Henry asked as he sat down to eat, pouring the champagne into a wine glass for his friend. Joey shrugged, trying to think around his words as he nibbled at the cheese platter. "Come on. I know you better than that, Joey. Something's bothering you."

"I got a call from Grant," he replied, the words coming out in a rush. "He's- he's my accountant. The studio's accountant. He threatened to quit if I don't go back to New York."

Henry chewed on the words, slowly sipping at his champagne.

"Well, it is your dream," he commented. "And I'm not going anywhere. We can figure something out."

"I don't want to leave you," Joey whined, sinking in his seat. Henry reached to give Joey's hand a reassuring, grounding squeeze. "I've finally found my heartbeat again...."

"You can do both, you know," Henry smiled at him. "I know you want it. Want it want it."

Joey swallowed harshly at the echo of words from long ago.

"I want you, too," Joey whispered. "Want you, want you."

Henry stood up, coming to Joey's side. He cupped his cheek, lifting his head to face his own. He leaned down, pressing his lips to Joey's. Joey raised his hands to Henry's face, touching over, tilting his head to get his nose out of the way to kiss him better. Henry's arm came down his back, pulling him closer.

They pulled apart after a long moment, leaving Joey breathless.

"We'll work it out," Henry promised- and unlike Joey's tin promises, Henry's were silver. Joey melted at the words, the touch. "You can't hide here with me, Joey. You've got a life, dreams."

"You are my life," Joey honestly told him, caressing his face. "Every day I spend with you, I'm alive again."

"You gave me up for your dreams before," Henry told him. Joey violently shook his head. "What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I gave you up," Joey sucked in a breath, "For your dreams. I thought you would be... happy. I was a fool in love, Henry, and I still am. But this time, I'm not letting you go. You're as much a part of my dreams as those cartoons. I won't hide that anymore."

Henry kissed him again.

He kissed him again as he saw him off at the train station.

Joey felt like a new man as he rolled into the studio on Tuesday. He went directly to Grant's office, knocking on the door with a bright, blinding smile.

Grant stared at him, a faint of his own smile on his lips.

"Glad to see you back, Mr. Drew," he said quietly. "And I'm happy that I don't have to quit on you, anymore."

"Thanks for not leaving just yet," Joey beamed at him, eyes half lidded. "I'd hate to lose my favorite accountant."

"I'd hate to lose this crappy job," Grant bantered back. Joey grinned, relaxing. "There's some things for you to sign on your desk. Check in on the animators, will you? Keep them in line."

"Will do," Joey replied. After stopping in the art department, he settled at his desk, picking up the papers. Boring. He could... Joey, with a smile, reached for his phone. It was answered after a few rings. "Hello, Henry."

"Hello, dreamer."

[kyuohki]

For the OC Ask game!

Zale's Family -> 🍀 - What originally inspired the OC? 🎹 - Do they have any hobbies? Anthea -> 💀 - Does your OC have any phobias? 🍕 - What is their favorite food? Lorelei -> ❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories? 🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Zale's Family:

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

The whole concept of how the Solstice Born are taken to Mooncradle to train is such a sad idea, and I wanted to explore how Zale's (and Valere's) family would deal with the knowledge that they'd have to give up their child. The world needs these kids to grow up strong and focused on their task, but damn if it doesn't feel cult like when you scratch the surface a bit. (I doubt Sabotage meant for anyone to look this deep into the whole thing, but this is where my brain goes if given any scrap of lore).

Then it boiled down to what felt right when building the family. What characteristics from Zale fit to which parent, physical or emotional? (For all that Zale looks just like Haris, he is most like Yeon'a in temperament (would he have chucked a plant pot at Resh'an if he was gonna lose a kid to this system? Yes, yes he would have.)) When thinking about how large a family, I didn't really plan ahead all that much, but it felt right that Zale ended up with a lot of (quarrelsome) sibs. He's got Yu'mi (oldest sis, +3 years), Alexia (younger sis, -4 years, goes by Lexi; hasn't shown up *yet*), then Jeong and Fotis (younger bros, -9 years, twins). Haris and Yeon'a were pretty young when they eloped and started their family (mid to late teens), so they're only about early 40s when Reunion happens (I have spreadsheets to keep all this in order...*cries*)

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Haris loves to cook (he and Garl get along like a house on fire, and trade recipes). Yeon'a gardens when she's got free time. Yu'mi collects shells. Lexi secretly reads a lot of romance stories. Fotis and Jeong put all their attention on the store (they plan on taking over running it, and already have ideas on expanding they're gonna butt heads with Mirna someday)

.

Anthea:

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Not really a phobia, but she really dislikes frogs. Unfortunately, as a child, X'yll would catch the ones that lived by the pond in the Garden and would proudly show them off to her mom.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

For regular dishes, she likes soups/stews with a lot of vegetables (and seafood). But she has a soft spot for a rice candy that a Flower gave her to cheer her up when she was having a hard time with the training in the Garden (like Botan rice candies.)

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Lorelei:

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

This will go to Link to the Past Lorilei. This Lorilei is a year younger than Link, and is the daughter of Link's Uncle (Alfon) and Venus. Yes, Queen Venus of the Faries; it's complicated (short story is that Venus was forced to leave baby!Lorilei with Alfon and can't return to the Hylian world). Some more backstory: when Link is 7, he moves in with Alfon and Lori when his parents pass away from illness. He and Lori are practically siblings.

During outing to Kakariko for a festival when they're 8-9, Lori gets lost, then a couple of kids corner and bully her, pushing her around and teasing her over the fact that she has no mom. Link jumps in to defend her, chasing the bullies away. Link then cheers her up by leading her around the festival and showing her secrets and tricks to games that his parents taught him, getting a lot of prizes and candy for them both.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Lori apprenticed to Syrup for a few years, to get a handle on her fairy magic. She found that she loves making potions and experimenting with ingredients. Link became an unfortunate victim her chief volunteer to test out the effects of her concoctions.

Clean up of said concoctions. They don't always work out, and the fallout can be awful.

[rocket-sith]

Also going back to the Usenet/AOL era of X-Files shipping, generally Shipper, in the context of fandom discussions, meant MSR (Mulder/Scully romance) by default. If you were into a different ship, you had to specify, and if it was F/F or M/M (Mulder/Skinner for example), it was slash. Mulder/Skinner slash, or Scully/Any Other Woman slash (OC or not), whatever - it was slash, and you were into whatever/whatever slash.

Antis were called NoRoMos, short for No Romance, and this phrase too pertained specifically to anti-MSR. That being said, the level of hate over ship rivalry (or much of any rivalry) wasn't seen in fandom to near the degree it is in current fandom. (Save for the Joel vs Mike fights in the MST3K fandom, but that wasn't any sort of ship wank at the time, and it's also another matter ENTIRELY.)

There was definitely an X-Files shipper vs NoRoMo rivalry, and definitely some heated arguments, and Shippers would go NUTS when we knew an upcoming episode was written by Vince Gilligan (yes THAT Vince Gilligan) because he was infamous for dishing both hilarity (X-Cops, Unusual Suspects) and the shippiest shippy episodes that ever shipped with ALL the UST (Pusher, Small Potatoes), and some beautiful unholy hybrids thereof (Bad Blood), and the NoRoMos never knew if they were gonna get either extreme or just something really cool in the middle.

I don't recall seeing suicide bait and threats against fic authors from NoRoMos being the norm or even common though, and here's why:

The threats (not suicide bait, but definitely nasty-grams from corporate lawyers and "delete your page or else" type threats) were all coming from Fox, and they were leveled equally at all corners of fandom, trying to shut ALL of us up and all of us down.

We didn't have AO3, we had the Gossamer Archive, dedicated exclusively to all types of XF fanfic. It got takedown notices and DDOS attacks on the regular. So did X-Files fan pages on GeoCities and AOL Member sites and whatnot - fanfic, fan art, digital art, fan-run forum sites - forget the opposing shipper, Fox was the ultimate Anti. Anti their own fans celebrating what we loved, no matter what form we did it in.

So yeah, you had situations were a fan would panic over Fox's latest escapade in sending out copyright bullshit C&D letters to fan sites and fic archives, a person would frantically try and mirror a site before Fox could take it down, so a well meaning fan would accidentally DDOS the site they were trying to save and it created artifical strife within the fandom.

This shit runs deep. We used to hide huddled by faction in small scattered corners of the internet (AOL message boards, email listserves, IRC channels) or bonded together in large numbers, proudly and shamelessly as one fandom (Gossamer, a.t.x-f/a.t.x-f.c) that occasionally gave each other noogies, but dammit we're all in this together, waiting for the hand of the overlords to bring down its next bullshit copyright C&D flyswatter against a fic writer or an artist or a digital collage photoshopper or whatever, so we put blue EFF ribbons on our pages, and we used HTML to black out our fansites in protest long before Dark Mode was ever a twinkle in Agent Mulder's TrustNo1 eye, and we organized counter campaigns to advocate for the right of fandom itself to exist.

Shipper wars? Oh no. We've got bigger fish to fry. Fandom will live on, dammit. You can come for us, you can TRY, but not today CSM Satan, not today.

Edit to add: Ya know, this is weirdly/hilariously similar to both the Mirror Universe as it's presented in Discovery, and the quasi-mirror Q-niverse in Picard, where all these different, normally-warring species and factions had banded together to form a rebellion against the Terrans. Fox was the Terrans. That's kinda how things tend to work socially and historically - the enemy of my enemy, etc - but seeing it play out in fandom space is the ultimate trope of life and art imitating one another.

every few months some annoying motherfucker makes a post asking why it's called 'spirk' instead of 'spork' or 'kock' and the short, easy answer is: spirk is already the silly ship name, the og ship name is 'k/s' and the og og ship name is 'the premise', because spirk is a ship so old that it was around before ship names were invented. now never come into my house again.

[visceravalentines]

Breakfast Food

Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader

500 words. Reader is hungover. Brain rot brain rot brain rot....

You'd mentioned something about breakfast last night. How it was your favorite meal, how you could eat breakfast food all day every day. Something like that; the hangover hammering behind your eyes made it hard to recall.

Whatever you'd said, Bo had evidently taken it to heart. He was missing from the bed and you could smell bacon, even all the way upstairs. Would he really make you breakfast? How uncharacteristically thoughtful of him.

You rolled out of bed, groaned, hung your head. You had to stop drinking with him. He must have two livers or one very beleaguered one the way liquor didn't touch him. You pulled on his boxers and one of his shirts. They smelled clean, but they were on the floor, so who knows. Leaning on the wall for balance, you descended the stairs in slow self-pity.

You rounded the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead. How much did you drink last night? Could a hangover trigger hallucinations? Because Bo was indeed cooking breakfast, but that wasn't the important part. The important part was the fact he was wearing a white apron patterned with tiny blue flowers, and nothing else. You were certain of this, because he was facing away from you and you were staring at his bare ass.

He glanced over his shoulder, then turned properly and flashed you a winning smile. "Mornin', baby doll. Hope you're hungry."

Your dry, sticky mouth was hanging open. You closed it. "I…am. Thanks."

"I'm makin' you breakfast," he said proudly.

"I see that."

"Y'want some juice?"

"Yeah." You hesitated. "Need any help?"

"Only if y'wanna. You can flip them pancakes."

You looked from him to the stove. "Which ones?"

Bo smirked, handed you a spatula. "I'll let you pick." The bacon grease popped, spattered his bare arm, and he flinched. "Shit. Got too much skin exposed for this."

You sidled in next to him, reached over and squeezed his ass. "I don't know, I think it's perfect."

He popped his hip. "Cute, huh?"

"Very."

"Maybe if y'quit wearin' my clothes I'd have some left for me."

"No, I think this works out better for everyone." You put the spatula aside and took hold of the strap around his neck, tugged him in for a kiss. "This is sweet, thank you."

"Y'welcome, sugar."

You slipped your arms around his waist. "Those flowers bring out your eyes."

He winked. "Shucks, darlin', you best be careful or you're gonna bring out somethin' else."

"Wouldn't that be a shame." You undid the apron strings behind his back with a single tug.

"Ah ah ah." He snatched the strings back from you. "Siddown."

"I'm helping."

"You sure ain't."

"But Bo…." You ran your hands down his bare sides.

"Darlin', I'll take you on that table soon as the dishes are cleared." He kissed you again, nibbled your lip. "But I'm makin' you breakfast like y'asked me to and if you distract me and I burn this I'm gonna be pissed." He shooed you away. "Quit. Sit."

"Yes ma'am."

He shot you a look. "Don't get cute with me."

You grinned at him. "Wouldn't dream of it. You're cute enough for both of us."