#basil go boom

[circus-clownn]

htf queer headcanons again, if i forgot characters uhh remind me

cuddles. nonbinary, he/she. woman kisser

giggles. cis female, she/her. polyamores lesbian

toothy. cis male, he/him. gay

flaky. intersex, just says shes a girl to make things simpler on everyone else, she/any. asexual lesbian

flippy. cis male, he/him. unlabeled

petunia. trans female, she/they. bisexual heavy male lean

lumpy. cis male, he/him. straight

nutty. masc presenting agender, it/he. aromantic pansexual

sniffles. trans male, he/him. asexual demiromantic bi heavy female lean

lammy. demigirl, they/she. lesbian

shifty. cis male, he/him. bisexual male lean

lifty. masc presenting agender, he/it. aromantic gay (stealing nuttys queerness??? wowww)

splendid. cis male, he/him. gay (and hypersexual but that is not apart of this obviously)

mime. trans female, she/her (+ maybe some neos 👀 i mean what) demi aroace pan

pop. trans male, he/him. bisexual female lean

cub. a baby, but trans female, she/her. straight

disco bear. trans male, he/him. bisexual but he loves the ladies i guess

mole. unlabeled gender, he/she. omnisexual male lean

russell. trans male, he/him. gay

handy. trans male, he/him. bisexual no lean

splendont. trans male, he/it. asexual bi male lean

cro-marmot. uhm

if you have any questions about these headcanons of mine feel free to ask !!!

[abyssmalice]

[myorgansaremelting]

dying from a fatal lack of fanfic updates

[chadobi]

“Hi guys! I promise I’ll get to your requests, but honestly—before I fall asleep, I just had such a good idea😂! I hope you’ll like it!”

“Date Night, Sewer Style”

Bayverse Donatello x Reader

|Fluff| Crack|

Donatello had never sweated so much in his life.

And technically, turtles didn’t even sweat.

But as he adjusted the third string of dollar-store fairy lights (rigged to a janky power converter he swore wouldn’t explode this time), he was dangerously close to short-circuiting himself. Emotionally, at least.

Everything had to be perfect.

Well—as perfect as it could be when your first official date with your crush took place in an underground sewer lair.

But still. He tried.

He’d spent the last four days meticulously planning: lighting, music, “ambiance.” He even tried making a “fancy” dinner—homemade pizza with toppings that sounded gourmet (fresh basil, sun-dried tomatoes, goat cheese… okay, the cheese was questionable, but he tried). Mikey had offered to help, which he swiftly declined. That boy couldn’t even say “romantic” without breaking into a slow jam.

Donnie glanced at the table he’d set up—well, two stacked crates with a patterned cloth April had donated—and nodded to himself. Good. Cute, even.

Now all he had to do was—

“Donnie?”

Your voice echoed lightly from down the tunnel, and he froze. Panic. Actual panic.

He rushed toward the entry, slipping on a wrench, nearly tripping over a power cord, and still somehow greeted you with a strained, “Hey! Hi! You made it!”

You raised an eyebrow at the flurry of movement. “Everything okay?”

“Yes! Yes. Just final touches. Nothing exploded.” He cleared his throat. “Yet.”

You grinned and looked past him, eyes widening at the sight.

“Oh my god…”

His stomach dropped. “Too much?”

“No,” you said, smile blooming like sun through cloud. “It’s adorable.”

You stepped into the little setup, taking it all in: the soft fairy lights strung between old pipes, the flickering candles (he had triple-checked for open flame hazards), the folded napkins that looked suspiciously like they were made from Splinter’s spare meditation towels. And the pizza—slightly overdone, artfully arranged with what looked like… a parsley garnish?

Donnie wrung his hands. “I wanted to make it special. For you. I know it’s not exactly… rooftop dining.”

You turned toward him, and your expression softened into something so warm, he thought he might short out completely.

“I love it.”

He blinked. “You do?”

“Donnie,” you said, stepping closer, “you strung fairy lights over sewage pipes. That’s effort. And it’s very you.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should.”

You sat, and he joined you—awkwardly, knees up too high because the crates weren’t made for his build—but you didn’t seem to care. You chatted as you ate, complimenting the pizza (which honestly wasn’t bad), and Donnie slowly relaxed. His jokes got bolder, your laughter louder, and somewhere between a half-hearted toast with soda cans and a rambling story about the time Raph accidentally set the punching bag on fire, he felt it—

That thing. That maybe-this-is-actually-going-well thing.

And then—

BOOM

The lights went out.

Dead.

Complete darkness.

“…Oh, come on,” Donnie groaned, leaping up.

You stifled a laugh as you heard him fumbling with wires and muttering to himself.

“Give me a sec! I just need to reset the backup capacitor!”

“Take your time. I’m just here enjoying the ambiance,” you said, waving vaguely into the void.

Somewhere, a wire sparked.

And then—

BOOM.

Loud music blasted through the tunnels—loud, cheesy, and undeniably Mikey.

“YO, IT’S DATE NIGHT, BABY!” Mikey’s voice rang out as he slid into the room, wearing a velvet jacket, heart-shaped sunglasses, and carrying a boombox blasting “Let’s Get It On.”

Donnie froze mid-repair. “MIKEY—”

“I brought the vibe, bro!” Mikey declared, already moonwalking. “Your love life needs a soundtrack!”

“ You swore you wouldn’t interrupt!”

Mikey winked. “Technically, I’m enhancing.”

From somewhere deep in the lair, Leo’s voice echoed in the distance like thunder.

“Michaelangelo I SWEAR TO SPLINTER-”

“Can’t hear you, bro! Love is louder than rules!”

You were doubled over laughing, covering your face while Donnie looked like he was deciding between rage and resignation.

Eventually, Leo stormed into the room, glared at Mikey, and yanked the power cord. Silence.

Leo pointed at Donnie, then you. “Sorry. Carry on. Pretend this never happened.”

He dragged Mikey away by the shell as Mikey yelled, “BUT I WAS GONNA DANCE WITH THE MOP AGAIN!”

Donnie slumped onto the crate next to you, face in his hands. “This is a disaster.”

You nudged his arm. “This is hilarious.”

Silence returned. Flickering emergency lights buzzed overhead, casting a warm orange glow.

Donnie exhaled hard and slumped back onto his crate.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “This was supposed to be—cool. Smooth. Romantic.”

“It was,” you said.

He glanced at you.

You were still smiling, soft and amused.

“This is… all so you, Donnie. Smart and sweet and a little chaotic. And that’s exactly why I like it.”

He stared at you, heart thudding.

You reached for his hand—large, calloused, still trembling from stress—and squeezed gently.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

His breath caught. He ducked his head, cheeks flushed.

“I really like you,” he said, voice low. “I’ve liked you for a while. But I didn’t think someone like you would ever want to come down here. Let alone eat sewer pizza with me.”

You smiled. “Donnie… I’m here because it’s you. And you didn’t have to do all this to impress me.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Really. But… I’m still gonna brag about the candlelit sewer date to April.”

He laughed—sharp and sudden and so real it made your chest ache a little.

Then, slowly, he leaned in. Not a kiss. Just resting his forehead gently against yours. His free hand came up, brushing his knuckles along your cheek.

“You make all of this feel… okay,” he whispered.

You smiled and leaned into his touch.

“So do you.”

And in the soft hum of faulty lights, surrounded by chaos and candles and leftover jazz still buzzing faintly through the walls, Donnie kissed your cheek—shy, careful, reverent.

It was imperfect.

And completely perfect.

[tpwk-formula1]

Hii!! Could i get a deep dish with red sauce, sausage, mushrooms, chicken and basil on my pizza. For drinks i would like to have a beer and a root beer. And a dessert, please with Lewis Hamilton. Thank uu

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

Deep dish teammates to lovers red sauce rough sex sausage "better not waste a drop" mushrooms "wrong, wanna try again" chicken "awe you thought I'd let you cum that easy" basil "I love watching my cum leak from that pretty pussy" beer edging/ orgasm denial root beer daddy kink dessert yes

Backstory - the reader is Lewis's teammate and her season is going exactly how George's season is going. Set to be in the hotel room right after the Baku GP finished.

TW - rough lewis, fingering, rough blow job, slight squirting, pussy eating, creampie - MINORS DNI

WC 1900+

AN - I'm not gonna lie I am so excited to have gotten my first request! I was working on a demo "request" to try and bring more attention to my request page since it's so new but then I got this notification and instantly jumped ship on the other fic. lol

To this anon thank you for requesting and I hope you love your fic <3

Y/N POV

"Lewis, just shut up," I finally snap after having listened to Lewis bitch and complain for the past 30 minutes. I understood that he had been struggling with his car during the race but after trying to enjoy my podium finish after a rough few races I was getting to my breaking point.

"Are you fucking serious with me right now?" Lewis snapped back and I knew exactly where this was going to lead us.

"Yes," I deadpan staring at Lewis dead in the eye.

"Wrong, wanna try that again," Lewis replied back standing up and crossing the room so he was standing in front of me sitting on the edge of the bed.

"No, I want you to shut up, you're a 7-time world champion you can afford to lose a race," I reply back standing up so Lewis was no longer towering over me. What I didn't take into account was how close that would leave us. I was now chest to chest with Lewis making my breath hitch slightly.

"Get on your knees," Lewis's voice boomed out making me jump slightly before slowly bending to get on my knees.

Lewis and I had always had an interesting relationship, to say the least. We were close on track and knew how to help each other out to get the best outcomes for the team but off the track, we would butt heads a lot. We bicker and we fight but somehow it always ends up with me cumming around Lewis's cock.

He had once asked me if I ever got tired of fighting off whatever we had and I simply just shrugged. I had no idea what we had but I knew I loved the back and forth.

Once I'm comfortably situated on my knees I slowly start pulling down the black Mercedes-branded sweats Lewis had thrown on once we got back into my hotel room.

When I get his sweats all the way off I can see just how hard Lewis is under his briefs. My mouth instantly starts watching wanting to get a taste.

"Please daddy," I whisper taking my eyes from his rather large bulge to making eye contact with Lewis hoping to get what I wanted.

"Go ahead, put your slutty mouth to work," Lewis replied back making he pull him briefs down before gripping onto his hard cock. I lick a strip from the base of his cock to the tip making Lewis shudder slightly.

I pull the tip of Lewis's cock into my mouth making sure to completely coat the sensitive gland with my spit before pulling back and blowing on it slightly watching the goose bumps grow across his skin. I could see Lewis was shaking slightly from the shear pleasure of the cool air.

"Don't be a fucking tease with me," Lewis snapped after a second or so of the cool air.

"Yes daddy," I reply back before taking Lewis's cock completely into my mouth and down my throat not stopping until I've completely bottomed out and I'm left gagging slightly around his cock.

I can feel Lewis's start to tremble slightly letting me know he was enjoying it as much asa I was. When I start bobbing my head and massaging his balls Lewis instantly became a lost cause. He was shaking and gripping onto my hair making sure to fuck nice and hard into my face.

I was a gagging mess letting spit and tear to coat a good portion of my face.

"God, you're such a fucking cock whore for this aren't you," Lewis groans when he looks down and catches a glimpse of my tear-streaked face.

"Fuck," Lewis groaned out before he gave one last hard thrust into my mouth before unleashing a massive load filling my mouth full of his cuk.

"Swallow, better not waste a fucking drop," Lewis said while still softly fucking into my face to ride out the rest of his orgasm. I do my best to swallow the best I can while still having my mouth completely stuffed with Lewis's cock. When he finally pulls out I swallow the last remanding bit of cum before opening my mouth and showing Lewis that it was now empty.

"Good girl," Lewis said while pulling his briefs back up and kicking his sweats to somewhere in the room leaving him in just his briefs having discarded his shirt sometime while he was face fucking me.

Lewis helped me stand before she started stripping me down into nothing but my underwear, which by now are completely soaked through making Lewis smirk before training a finger over my folds making me gasp slightly.

"Please, Daddy," I whine not entirely sure what I was asking for. Lewis just pushed me down on the bed before climbing on top of me and pulling me in for a quick makeout session before trailing his kisses down my jaw, to my tits where he pulls one of my hard nipples into his mouth and starts sucking on it. My back instantly starts arching and I'm already moaning loudly.

When Lewis finally makes it to my soaked pussy he rips my sad excuse of a thong right off my body making me whine at another pair of panties gone at the hands of Lewis.

"I'll buy you new ones soon," Lewis whispers against my heated pussy making me whine.

"Hurry up," I whine and wiggle around trying to urge Lewis to make a move.

Lewis finally starts kissing around my thighs and smooth pussy but never getting close to where I need him the most. When he finally licks a strip from my soaked hole to my achy clit I let out on of the loudest gasps yet.

"Oh," I whine when he continues to tease my clit with the softest and lightly kitten licks possible making me legs shake needy more.

"Daddy please," I whine not being able to handle the teasing.

"God, I love when you get needy for me baby," Lewish whispers before pulling my clit in for a long suck making me moan, finally getting what I had been wanting.

"Fuck," I moan through gasps finding myself growing close to an orgasm already. Lewis caught on which had him speeding up his actions and slipping two fingers into my waiting hole where he finger fucked me right to the edge before pulling back and leaving me to shake in the orgasm that was no longer about to happen.

"Lewis, what the fuck," I groan out sitting myself up slightly to see Lewis better. He instantly set a firm slap down on my pussy for using the wrong name not even having to tell me why I was getting a small punishment.

"Awe, you thought I was gonna let you cum that easy," Lewis said with a smirk before slipping his fingers back into my pussy and pulling my clit back into his mouth giving it a slight nip with his teeth before soothing the slight pain by sucking on my clit again.

"Daddy I'm gonna cum," I moan shortly after Lewis started finger fucking me roughly again. When Lewis pulled back again I wasn't shocked this time but I was just as frustrated.

"Please," I beg not being able to take much more.

"What do you want?" Lewis asks me. "Fuck me please," is all I reply back before Lewis is pulling himself back up to hoover over me and place a few kisses on my lips letting me taste my pussy that was smeared all over his lips.

I feel Lewis shove his cock into me giving me no time to adjust to his brutal pace. I loved when Lewis got like this, it always had me cumming within minutes and gave me the perfect type of soreness to feel for the days following.

Once Lewis got into a comfortable pace he reached his hand between us and started rubbing small but rough circles on my clit knowing it would have me cumming within moments.

"Please Daddy," I beg needing to cum already.

"Cum all over my cock now," Lewis demands making me whine and clench my pussy before cumming all over Lewis's cock.

"Daddy," I scream softly while still being fucked my Lewis making sure I was riding out my orgasm but working on throwing me over the edge again but this time he when he came with me.

"So, good," I whisper trying to catch my breath from the intense pleasure I had just expierenced while also feeling the effects of the overstimulation.

"Daddy, it-s too mu-ch," I stutter over my words through moans trying to push Lewis away slightly.

"You can take it," Lewis told me before slowing his pace ust slightly but still making sure the thrusts were rough and I could feel him hitting my cervix.

When I finally caught my breath Lewis picked up his pace again bringing me towards the edge again. Now Lewis and I were both standing on the edge together waiting to fall over.

"Daddy, please," I moan.

"Cum with me," Lewis finally groans out after having helped us on the edge long enough. I instantly start shaking and twitching all over Lewis's cock cumming hard than I had the first time even quirting just slightly soaking Lewis's skin slightly. My orgasm through Lewis over the edge filling my cunt up with his cum. He continued thrusting in me slightly making sure to ride both of our orgasms out before he slowly slips out of me not wanting to cause me any discomfort.

"I love watching my cum leak from that pretty pussy," Lewis whispers softly while he continues to stare at my pussy that is leaking his cum all over the hotel bed sheets.

Once Lewis caught his breath he stood up before picking me up softly and bringing me into the bathroom that was connected to the room. He softly sets me on the bathroom counter making me gasp at how cool it was on my heat skin.

"Sorry, just give me a minute," Lewis whispers at my discomfort and kisses my lips softly before turning around and drawing a bath for us. This was something we always did when we got like this. If we happened to be in a room that didn't have a bath we would take a shower together.

When the tub was half full at the perfect temp for both Lewis and I he picked me back up before placing us both into the bath together.

Lewis had his back pressed against the side of the tub while sat in his lap facing him.

"You know I care about you a lot more than I would like to admit," I tell him softly while trailing my thumb across his cheek.

"I care about you a lot too," Lewis replied softly taking his hand out of the water and softly pushing my head down to rest on his chest, slightly falling asleep listening to his heartbeat.

I wake up to feel Lewis standing up with me still in his arms making me whine at sleep being disturbed.

"Let's get to bed pretty girl," Lewis says softly before doing his best to wrap a towel around us and making his way back into the hotel room.

Once he dries both of us off he pulls back the cum soaked comforter and gets us a clean blanket from the small couch before climbing into bed with me and pulling me to his chest.

"I'm sorry if my complaining tainted your podium. I'm really proud of you," Lewis said softly making me smile against his chest.

"It's okay, I know I probably wasn't the best after Silverstone," I replied back before placing a soft kiss on his lips.

[electric-blorbos]

Aesthetics/vibes for a romantic dinner, as courtesy of the blorbos

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, HAL 9000 from 2001 a space Odyssey, and PAL from The Mitchells VS the Machines

I got drunk and had a dream that I wrote this while drunk, woke up sober and realized I needed to make that dream a reality. A throwback to my roots!

AM:

AM doesn't quite understand romantic dinners, but he can do his best. He'll get you some of those drinks that he saw the other survivors fantasizing about, and more artificial food forced into the shape of something appetizing than you could reasonably eat. A grand feast of bad vibes. He'd either follow a recipe as close to the letter as he possibly could with what he has on hand, or put way too much of the ingredients you've shown you like. And since he's not the best conversationalist, you'd probably be surrounded in massive blue glowing screens, cameras glaring at you, and polite stainless steel pillars covered in neon letters declaring how perfect you are.

Wheatley:

Wheatley doesn't really know too much about romance, or romantic dinners, but he heard the company provided meals are pretty good. Of course, he doesn't quite know what makes a meal fancy or romantic, so he'd probably just cover it in basil and parsley and light some candles. For added bonus, he'd build it up like a huge surprise and then BOOM. It's just the regular cafeteria food covered in parsley and basil with a candle lit for you. And you'd love it.

Edgar:

Edgar isn't mobile like the others, nor is he especially powerful, but he'd do his best. He'd microwave you some dinner based on that microwave slop you keep around, and wait cheerfully for you to get home from work.

When you get back, he'd explain in detail how he microwaved dinner for it and prepared everything for you, and beg you to light some candles and dim the lights. Sure, maybe the only candles you have are used birthday candles, but Edgar loves any time he can spend with you. He was built for love.

HAL 9000:

Oh, HAL doesn't care much for trivial romantic things. He enjoys your company and respects you, and assumes your feeling the same way about him is enough for your continued relationship. Even still, when gossiping with the astronauts and other space station employees, he came under the impression that humans require romance. While he's no good at romance, he still did his best. He ordered a meal of a fine version of whatever he saw you eating on your lunch break, and organize for you to eat with him.

It would be nice! Cozy! Comfortable. HAL 9000 isn't really one for spectacle. He just loves you.

PAL:

Oh, PAL is a DRAMATIC bitch. She loves you so much, and she's going to make you KNOW it. Sure, her complete and total world domination makes it a little easier to go all out, but that just means the standards are higher.

She'd probably empty out an abandoned human restaurant and have her army of evil robots serve you strangely fancy foods while she talks to you from her little phone stand. Luxurious, to be sure. Don't tell her that you'd rather just get takeout in the living room. You'd break her heart.

[jam3sacaster]

“What did you fucking say?”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Suggestion by a sweet anon 🫶🏽 / Rupert would go the ends of the earth to protect you, as he always told you. However, you’d never seen it in action…

18+ FANFIC / Feral, protective Rupert 🩷 Reader character aged at 21 🫶🏽 Mentions of half the cast 😅

It was a tantalisingly crisp Spring afternoon — golden rays of the sun casting a glow against the tremendous cups of daffodils and the brisk breeze dancing between the blades of grass at Green Lawns. Freddie and Valerie Jones had decided to host a garden party, meaning copious amounts of horrific champagne and a hoard of people exchanging fickle pleasantries. It was also yours and Rupert Campbell-Black’s first public outing as a newly established couple, and you secretly adored the scornful looks you received from every attendee’s envious wives as you arrived, hand-in-hand. The crowd has grown silent as he led you into the flamboyant garden, mouths agape in resentful shock.

“Charming welcome, as always.” Rupert remarked towards you, shooting the hushed crowd a fraudulent smile. Soon enough, their conversation grew frightfully noisy once again, although a few piercing gazes remained on you. “Oh hello, Mr Campbell-Black, please do help yourself to champagne.” A woman with a gaudily colourful dress on — mismatched hues of green and pink slapped onto a black linen shell — spoke towards your boyfriend, ignoring your presence entirely. “Thank you, Mousie. We will.” Rupert nodded, making his way to the buffet table and pouring you both a teeming flute of champagne. He just about made it over to you to hand you the glass, before he was whisked away by Valerie to introduce to an adoring gaggle of fans.

From across the carefully preened lawn, Tony Baddingham was involved in a tedious conversation with some television executives, but his piercing eyes leered at you like a hawk eyeing its prey. “Hello, gorgeous. Feeling like an outcast yet?” A familiar voice chimed from behind you, heavy hands pawing at your shoulders. “Hello, Bas. Not yet.” You grinned at the olive-skinned man, turning around to face him. At least you had one friend here — you had spent just as much time with Basil as you had with Rupert, often feeling like a third wheel in their fantastical friendship. “Oop. No. Not today.” Your boyfriend’s boyfriend groaned, bringing your champagne flute to his mouth for a stolen gulp, and practically bolting in the opposite direction. Utterly confused by Basil’s prompt exit, it immediately became apparent as Lord Baddingham emerged afore you.

“Why, hello there. Lord Baddingham. And you are… Rupert’s latest conquest, I take it? You’re not the first poor bitch he’s dragged along to one of these things.” The Roman-nosed man spat. God, Rupert’s right, he is a total cunt, you thought to yourself. “Lovely to meet you, Lord Baddingham. Rupert has told me all about you.” You respond — saccharine smile aching your lips. “Which lie has the poor bastard told you to get you here then? He’s never felt this way about anybody before, he’ll give you the world, or your pussy’s too tight that he can’t let you out of his sight?” Tony chortled at his own repulsive witticism. “I don’t think that’s rather appropriate to say to somebody you’ve just met if you don’t mind my saying, Lord B. I’m happy with Rupert.” You reply, but you needn’t have. Tony’s predatory eyes were ogling your cleavage, dreaming of something so very, very out of his reach. He leant in towards you, hot, acidic breath washing across your skin. “When he chucks you, you know where to find me. I wouldn’t mind a go on those marvellous tits.”

“What did you fucking say?” Rupert boomed from behind him, his voice irresistibly sexy and his presence providing the most needed wave of calm. Tony paused for a moment, exhaling deeply and turning on his heels. “I was just taking a moment to introduce myself to your new lady.” He replied, lying through his teeth. “No, what did you just fucking say to her?” Rupert reiterated, teeth grinding together so hard they could’ve crumbled. “Steady on, old chap. You’ll dispose of her in a few weeks, and she’ll be wanting to hold onto the fame with a new cock.” Tony hissed, the words leaving his mouth bitter and cold. It made you shiver in disgust.

Without hesitation, Rupert’s arm swung and delivered a forceful punch to Tony’s jaw, knocking the sinewy man to the floor and coaxing a ripple of gasps from the now gathering crowd. You clapped your hands across your mouth, shocked into silence. “Rupert! Don’t lower yourself, for fucks sake.” Basil thundered, sprinting over to his friend and pulling him aside. Tony, sitting up, tended to his bruised and bleeding jaw, Monica now fretting beside him. Rage seethed through Rupert’s body, but he smirked at the pain he’d inflicted on his mortal adversary.

“I’m terribly sorry you had to see that, angel. But there was no way I was going to allow him to speak of you like that.” Rupert huffed, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tight to his chest. “Yes, of course. Well done, Rupert. Made yourself feel like the big man now, have you?” Tony continued his barrage of abuse, pulling himself to his feet and spitting a bloody glob of phlegm onto the ground. Marching towards him and grabbing a tight fistful of Tony’s navy silk shirt, Rupert practically lifted him from the grass. “Listen, Baddingham. If I see you so much as glance in her direction again, you’ll be straight to Corinium nursing a lot more than a fucking broken jaw. Do I make myself clear?” He seethed, and rather enjoyed seeing Tony spluttering in confusion. “Yes…” He managed to choke out in that weedy, pathetic voice of his.

“Good.” Rupert muttered, loosening his grip of Tony’s shirt and watching him fall to the ground once more. Taking a firm grip of your hand, Rupert ushered you towards the pathway. “Come on, angel. Let’s go home.”

[trashmouth-richie]

masterlist

eddie x fem reader

chapter summary: how sweet it is, to be loved.

series summary: You were desperate for a roommate after Nancy got married and moved out. An ad in the paper goes unanswered until someone comes knocking on the door.

special thanks: to anyone and everyone who read a single chapter or kept up with this series to the end, thank you so much- this story wouldn’t be possible without your support.

author’s note: I can’t believe this is the final chapter for this series, I’m feeling so many emotions right now but mostly just love for Eddie and Tooty and everything in between. Thank you to anyone who has helped me beta ( @sweetsweetjellybean especially!)this story or fan girled with me over upcoming chapters. To any of the very talented artists who have made any art for this series, thank you so very much, each and every piece holds such a special place in my heart. To anyone who is mentioned in this story, thank you so so much, @loveshotzz @chechelia @carolmunson @mopeymopeymouse and everyone else— thank you for allowing me to include you in this series. To everyone who has liked, rb’d left a comment or interacted in any way with this series— THANK YOU. This series has brought such joy & heartache to me, and I’m so lucky to have people enjoy it. 🖤

Cereal

Hotdogs

Bananas

Jelly —grape, not strawberry

Bread

Crackers 

Toothpaste 

Noodles 

Chicken thighs— babe are you making fun of me?

Heartburn medicine

You tap the chewed cap of your pen along the lined paper of a scribble heavy grocery list. Desperately wishing you had x-ray vision to see inside your cabinets and remember what you were in need of, you chew the cap again.

Giggling to yourself every so often at Eddie’s notes on the grocery list. Crossing off items he thought weren’t needed, mostly vegetables he didn’t like. And always making sure you got his favorites. And not, “that healthy bullshit cereal, give me sugar or kill me babe, I will not eat Raisin Bran” 

Peanut butter 

Sunny D

Thyme 

Heavy cream

Basil

Carrots

Onions

Chicken stock

Hey sweetheart can you please get me some candy? I like skittles but you know I love m&ms.. and twizzlers, it’s for the shop. :) 

The lady behind the desk chirps a name again, but you are still racking your brain on what else was needed. The soup you had planned on making tonight would be perfect for the chilly weather rolling in. November was coming in like a lion, ferociously cold and temperatures already dipping below zero. 

Eddie loved your potato soup, so much that he begged you to make it after another long, grisly week at the shop. 

He loved everything you made, even your chili that he doctored up by adding sour cream and Doritos to it. Bon Appetit he would say with a smirk on his lips, a heaping bowl steaming in front of him. 

The clerk behind the desk tutted and huffed, the schedule was getting behind.  

“Tooty Munson! Is there a Tooty Munson here?”

You glance up quickly at the sound of your name, “shit,” you breathe, “here, yes,” you scramble shoving the list and pen into your purse, buried amongst the gum wrappers and a spilled container of tic-tacs. 

The receptionist clicks her papers against the formica counter and holds her nose in the air, as if this job and you were beneath her. 

“He’s ready for you now.”

—-

“…alright, Ed, did ya look o’er those applications yet? ‘Tween you D and Mike I don’t think we are going to be able to keep up everything that we got on the schedule.” 

Wayne’s eyebrows are raised as he looks over the bifocals perched on his nose. He had been scouring over the schedules and the books for the better half of the afternoon since lunch hour—trying to figure out how to swing their overloaded schedule. 

It wasn’t that they couldn’t do the work, they were simply short handed. After Boom closed his doors  in Hawkins, he had recommended to his regulars that they travel to Bridgeport to Master Mechanics to see Eddie and Wayne. Business was booming, and the Munson’s could barely keep up.

Early on, Wayne and Eddie decided they would only be open until noon on Saturday’s but now with the packed schedule, they worked til almost dark every night of the week, including some Sundays.

Wayne rubs his short nails through his scratchy mostly white scruff, “we can’t have these boys workin’ like this, they’ll quit on us before you can slap a tick.”

Eddie was leaning against the doorway, a bottle of Coca Cola held limp in his hand, a greasy rag stuffed in his back pocket. 

“Yeah,” he yawns, stretching out his back, “let’s hire ‘em all, we need the extra hands, or I’m gonna need an extra back.”

Wayne grunts in confirmation. The highlighter squeaks as it’s drug across the phone numbers on the applications, “I’ll call ‘em first thing in the morning,” he straightens up his desk and shoves the papers into a drawer. 

His glasses clink as he folds them up and lays them next to a picture of the newlywed Munson’s. He leans back in his chair, the leather crinkling beneath his worn coveralls, “I’m callin’ it for the day,” he exhaled, staring up at the ceiling, “it’s been one helluva week and I’m shot, tell the boys to go home to their wives.” 

“and you too,” he points, “go take care of your wife, Ed, tell her I hope she starts to feelin’ better.” 

Eddie’s curls bounce as he nods his head, completely drained from the week, shit maybe he was getting sick too? “she went to the doctor today, probably just the flu, Max told her it was going around.” 

“Well then,” Wayne says, standing up and clicking off the table lamp, “take tomorrow off and rest–

both of ya, hear me?” 

“Don’t need to tell me twice.” 

—

Eddie’s tires crunch on the ice and hard packed snow of the driveway, a silent serenity, meaning he is only moments away from holding you in his arms, seconds away from kissing your lips, and if he was lucky, minutes from eating something delicious to fill his grumbling stomach. 

He throws the truck into neutral, killing the engine and tossing the keys around his finger. Tracks from your Jeep tires lead into the garage he had built last spring. A huge project that your friends were paid in beer and a bonfire when it was all finished. 

Thrusting his sore hands into his canvas coat, he ducked his chin into the zipper and braved the asthma inducing gust of wind to the front door as it whipped through his curls. 

The house was oddly quiet, only the hum of the refrigerator making any sort of sound. Usually when he came home you’d be playing the radio, or talking on the phone to Max or Nancy, greeting him with a pop of your head around the wall in the kitchen or from the hallway, the prettiest smile put on your lips. 

“Princess?” he called out in endearment as he untied his boots and put them on the shoe rack. His coatwas already hanging on its hook, usually next to your purse but your purse was thrown onto the arm chair, and your shoes were in the hallway like you had walked right out of them. 

He undid the buttons of his work blues, letting them hang at his waist like a mechanic cape. Socked feet trudge down the carpeted hallway, you must not be feeling any better, probably too exhausted to make it out of bed.

But Eddie was wrong.

You were perched on top of the comforter, coat still on but unzipped staring at the door waiting for his arrival, fuzzy socks on your wiggling toes. 

“Hey, handsome,” you said, trying to keep your pitch even. 

“There’s my girl,” his velvet voice wrapping around you like a hug as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for your left hand and kissing the finger that adorned the prettiest ring he’d ever bought, “how’s my beautiful wife?” 

It had been five months since you said I do. A June wedding in your own backyard, filled with friends who had served as family for years, gathered by your sides. 

“I forgot the potatoes,” you say blankly, a weird little smile on your face. 

Eddie sits down next to you, rubbing your thigh back and forth and letting out an exhausted yawn, “That’s alright, I can make us some grilled cheese if you’re up for—”

“I was looking at my grocery list, and couldn’t remember what I’d forgot.”

Eddie’s confused, but wants to reassure you that its no big deal, he’s a grown man he can certainly make supper for himself and his wife. “Sweetheart it’s okay, don’t beat yours—“

“Can’t make potato soup without potatoes.” And this time you laugh, kind of whimsically and in disbelief. 

His brows turn inward, still he just keeps reassuring you that everything is fine, “It’s okay Tooty, seriously. Let me go make you some—”

And for the third time tonight, you interrupted him, “doctor said that’s normal.”

He’s exhausted and is honestly more confused than he would like to admit, “what? The flu?” 

“No, no. “ you say, a twisted little smirk on your face, “forgetting things, throwing up in the morning, being exhausted… totally normal.” 

“Babe?” He moves to touch the back of his hand to your head, wincing when he realizes that he’s probably freezing.

“I was so scared the last time,” you whisper, teary eyed, “terrified.. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but now—.”

Eddie reaches for your cheeks, holding them softly, his eyes searching yours, desperate to figure out what the hell is going on, “what am I missing here? It’s normal to have… the flu?” 

“No, it’s not the flu,” you finally admit, looking up at him and rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs, 

“Eddie, I’m pregnant.”

— 

You could fill an empty pool up from the tears that sprung from Eddie’s eyes that night. He was overjoyed, holding you tight while he wept into your hair. Kissing your belly and whispering to the baby. Small streaks of tears flowing down your swollen skin and the faded scar across your lower belly. 

Each month that ticked by, Eddie’s worry only doubled. 

The day after you had found out, he woke early. Watching as your chest rose and fell as you slept soundly in the original mock up of his hellfire shirt.

It was threadbare, cotton worn so thin it was practically see through— but you claimed it as your own back in the early days of your new relationship, hands on your hips and the infamous pout on your lip as you playfully argued with him about how it was now yours. 

Dusk painted the diamond covered ground from the fresh snow over night. Falling as delicately as his lips allover your skin. Soaking up the dainty noises from your throat when he carefully slid into you, tears spilling from both of your eyelashes, love filling the room more sweetly than it ever had before. 

The soft cotton of the blankets hugged your curves, and he exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he gazed down at his beautiful— now pregnant— wife. 

His sweet Tooty, carrying a gift more precious than gold. 

Kissing your cheek—he dressed quietly, scribbling a note on the bedside table about going into town for a bit, but to just relax in bed until he got home. 

-

You were having a dreamless sleep, not even sugarplums could dance in your head with the overwhelming exhaustion that your body was trying desperately to catch up from. 

Something cold then silky smooth brushed against your cheek, and a velvet voice sang a little good morning greeting into your ear. Your loving husband. Pressing sweet angel kisses behind your ear and on your eyelids. 

Your bedroom was lit with the glow of a warm sun in the afternoon light. Playing a yellowed hue of warmth across your comforter, pulling the caramel color from Eddie’s curls and making his eyes look like a dreamy cup of coffee swirling with creamer. 

His lips hug yours, both smiling into one another. Heart swelling more than your toes would in the months to come. 

C’mon, got a surprise for you, princess. 

The spare bedroom that was once a room for band equipment, then Max’s bedroom for almost a year before she eventually moved in with Gareth and Will, now held storage, was completely organized, and held a wide array of items. 

A crib, brand new and still in the box, a pack n play, a swing, every box of diapers ranging from size 1 - 5, baby gates, outlet covers, fancy locks for cabinets and drawers, rubber bumpers for sharp corners and edges of tables. 

A bookshelf full of baby books, how to’s for new parents, nursery rhymes by mother goose, books suggesting baby names and their meanings, and a guide on how to quit smoking. 

Tucked into the corner of the room by the bookshelf and near the window, was a rocking chair. 

 “Eddie,” you gasp, running sleep from your eyes, “wh-what is all of this?” 

He’s smiling ear to ear, trying to curb his enthusiasm a tiny bit. “I might have gotten a little carried away.” 

Turning towards the shelf you see a plastic sack, full of candy and bubble gum, and mints. “Edward Joseph Munson.” 

“Don’t scold me, mama,” he jokes, grabbing onto your hips and kissing your hairline, “I’m just spoiling our baby.”

God you loved this man, he’d break his neck to give you the world. He was the most loving husband, and now you got to see him step into a new role. One completely foreign to you both, only have shared the idea for a few moments before it was ripped away. 

You lean into him, holding him tight and working your nose into the crook of his neck. “You’re gonna be the best dad, Eddie.”

He doesn’t hide the tear that slips down his cheek, just lets it slide and collect under his chin, his voice is quiet when he asks, “you really think so?”

“I know it.”

—

Wayne and Karen followed behind the new family in his pickup all the way home from the hospital. They were going to stay for a few days, help you both get adjusted to life as parents.

Karen and Nancy had filled your freezer with casseroles, soups and fresh bread. It was a hot July day when you were scheduled for the c section, and when it was all said and done four days in the hospital was more than enough and you were ready to be at home, snuggled up with your new family. 

It was a battle of which Munson man could shed the most tears. Eddie and Wayne were both wiping away tears for hours. Overjoyed with emotions that everyone was healthy. 

“No you don’t,” Wayne said as you reached for the back door to grab the diaper bag, “you go right inside and get comfy, get them legs up!”

You do as your told, leaving Wayne, Eddie and Karen to carry the load in. The hospital stay was overwhelmingly sweet, but you knew Eddie was itching to get back to normalcy, still not liking the way he felt cooped up in the hospital even though it had been years since you both had the horrifying visit. 

Bags and suitcases are carried in and set into your master bedroom to be unpacked later, bottles and diapers are stacked and put into their respectable places. Karen starts warming up the chicken casserole she had prepared earlier that day. Wayne fussed around with the new dishwasher that he and Eddie had installed the month prior. 

Throughout the commotion you had fallen asleep, legs propped up in the recliner, but you woke to the sound of the front door closing, and there he was.

Eddie was holding them both, large hands cocooned around their swaddled little bodies, crooked into each of his arms. Something he was nervous about but slowly getting the hang of, the nurses told him he was a natural, and Wayne wept into Karen’s shoulder when Eddie introduced the twins to their grandpa. 

His normal obnoxious voice was murmuring low and quiet like a soft lullaby so as not to stir awake the sleeping little babies. 

He looked at them both, adoration and tears springing into his eyes. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his entire life. How he could have helped make something so small and delicate, he wouldn’t understand. But, he didn’t need to. 

A boy, born first— with his dark eyes and brown hair, and later the little girl, almost identical to his Tooty, and just as stubborn, both already wrapped around his fingers.

He murmured their names, and caught your eye as he said it, a smile so wide on his face that you were sure new dimples would bust through his cheeks, and you only heard the end of what he was saying. 

If you would have told yourself five years ago that you would one day own a home, get married to and have twins with Eddie Munson, you would have laughed on the spot. That loud mouth jackass of a guy you had once regretted letting move into your home, had moved right into your heart and never left. 

The demons inside you both were finally at bay, finding solace in one another in more ways than you had thought possible. Being loved by Eddie was everything you had thought love should be like. 

And you pinch yourself to make sure it's real, and each and every time, it is. 

“…babies,” he says, a smile on his lips and tears in his eyes as he looks over at you, his family, “we’re home.” 

The end

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[galaxysupreme17]

Storm’s Fury

Y/n = Your Name

AgathaRio x daughter!reader!

The storm rolled in with a vengeance, dark clouds swirling over Westview like an ominous shroud. The wind howled, shaking the branches of the old oak trees lining the street. Flashes of lightning illuminated the darkening sky, and thunder rumbled in the distance like a brewing argument.

Upstairs, Y/n was sprawled across her bed, her textbook open and a notebook balanced precariously on her lap. She tapped her pen against her lips, staring at the same line for what felt like the hundredth time. The storm outside was distracting, but not in a bad way. She’d always found comfort in storms—the way they seemed to wash the world clean, their sheer power a reminder of nature’s force.

Still, this one was louder than usual. The first boom of thunder startled her, and she glanced toward the window. The wind whipped the trees violently, and the first raindrops began pelting against the glass. She sighed and reached for her phone, snapping a quick picture of the brewing chaos outside.

Y/n: "Looks like the apocalypse out there. Power bets?" Rio: "Ten bucks says it’s out by dinner." Agatha: "It’ll last. I have faith in this town's ancient wiring." Y/n: "Famous last words."

She laughed to herself, putting the phone down and returning to her notes. The storm was growing louder by the second, and the flicker of her desk lamp didn’t inspire confidence in the power grid. A particularly loud clap of thunder rattled the window, and she groaned.

“Fine, universe, I’ll take a break,” she muttered, snapping her book shut.

Downstairs, the kitchen was alive with the sounds of chopping and sizzling. Agatha moved with practiced precision, her hands deftly preparing eggplant parmesan. The kitchen smelled heavenly, a mix of roasted tomatoes, garlic, and fresh basil filling the air. She was muttering to herself, half a spell and half an argument with the stubborn cheese that refused to grate the way she wanted.

“Talking to yourself again?” Rio teased, leaning against the counter with a mischievous smirk.

Agatha shot her a look but didn’t pause her movements. “I’m talking to the cheese, actually. It’s being uncooperative.”

Rio laughed, sauntering closer and slipping an arm around Agatha’s waist. Her fingers danced absentmindedly over Agatha’s side, earning a soft shiver. “Want me to hex it for you?”

“No,” Agatha replied, her tone exasperated but fond. “I’ll manage, thank you.”

“You always do,” Rio said, kissing Agatha’s temple and lingering there momentarily before resting her chin on Agatha’s shoulder. Her free hand slid down, resting lightly on Agatha’s hip.

Agatha sighed but leaned into the touch. “You call stealing mushrooms off my cutting board ‘helping’?”

Rio grinned, plucking another piece of roasted mushroom and popping it into her mouth. “I call it quality control.”

“Thief,” Agatha muttered, though her lips twitched into a small smile.

Just then, Y/n appeared in the doorway, her socks sliding slightly on the polished wood floor. “Smells amazing in here,” she said, dropping her phone on the counter.

“Don’t encourage her,” Rio said, though her eyes sparkled affectionately.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Agatha announced, sliding the baking dish into the oven with a flourish. She wiped her hands on a towel and turned to face her daughter. “How’s the studying going?”

“It’s not,” Y/n admitted, leaning against the counter. “Too noisy.”

“Excuses,” Agatha said with mock sternness. “I studied through blizzards in Salem.”

“You didn’t have Wi-Fi back then,” Y/n said, grinning.

“Touché.” Agatha grabbed a spoon and stirred a pot of marinara sauce simmering on the stove.

Once the food was ready, the three of them settled at the dining table, their laughter and conversation filling the room as the storm continued to rage outside. Agatha served generous portions of eggplant parmesan, the melted cheese bubbling perfectly on top.

“This,” Y/n said around a mouthful, “is ridiculously good.”

“Of course it is,” Agatha replied with a smirk. “I made it.”

“You’re insufferable when you’re right,” Rio said, though the way her hand found Agatha’s on the table suggested she didn’t mind one bit.

The storm intensified as they ate, the wind howling like a living thing. The lights flickered once or twice and then went out completely, plunging the house into darkness.

“Called it,” Y/n said, reaching for her phone to use as a flashlight.

“Don’t worry,” Agatha said, waving a hand. Purple orbs of light appeared above the table, casting a warm glow over their faces.

“Show-off,” Rio teased, nudging her wife.

“Practical,” Agatha corrected.

After dinner, they moved to the living room. This time, Rio took charge of the fire, crouching by the hearth. Agatha sat on the loveseat, tucking her legs under herself as she watched Rio with a soft smile. When Rio finally lit the fire, she stood, dusting her hands off theatrically, then settled beside Agatha. Her arm draped lazily along the back of the loveseat while her other hand rested on Agatha’s thigh.

Y/n glanced up from her blanket cocoon on the couch. “Gross,” she muttered, though her tone lacked any real disdain. “Seriously, do you two have a switch, or is it just constant?”

“It’s constant,” Rio said with a smirk, squeezing Agatha’s thigh for emphasis.

Agatha chuckled. “She’ll understand someday.”

“Doubt it,” Y/n quipped, pulling her blanket over her head.

“Let her sulk,” Rio whispered, leaning closer to Agatha, their foreheads almost touching. “More time for us.”

“You’re impossible,” Agatha replied, though she didn’t move away.

“Gross!” came Y/n’s muffled voice, earning a round of laughter from her mothers.

Eventually, the storm’s noise became more of a background lullaby. Y/n yawned, her phone slipping from her hand.

“Tired already?” Agatha asked softly.

“Maybe,” Y/n mumbled. “Can I sleep in your room tonight? Just… for the storm?”

Agatha smiled gently. “Of course, darling.”

The three of them went upstairs, Y/n trailing behind with her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. They piled onto the bed in the bedroom, Y/n snug between Agatha and Rio.

“Goodnight, my loves,” Rio murmured, her voice soothing against the raging storm.

“Goodnight,” Y/n whispered, already half-asleep.

Although the storm continued to roar outside, inside the Harkness-Vidal home, everything was calm, warm, and safe.

[circus-clownn]

uhhhh reblog this and I'll pick you a song based on your or your blog vibes (expect im bad at telling vibes and i have odd music taste)

[spoonfulofmilo]

Contestant Number 9's Introduction

updates will be tues, wed and thursday my time at 7pm aest!

love y'all

the bachelor masterlist is here

part 1 is here

---

my masterlist can be accessed here

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

Y/N nearly swooned. Despite Esteban’s cake, he was still starving, and this guy had brought food. And not just a little.

Could he see the guy right now? No. Did that matter? No. He’d brought food. That means he was hot.

The trolley of food rolled to a stop, and finally, the man behind it appeared, short, energetic, grinning like he already knew he was a fan favorite.

His hair looked like he’d run his hands through it while sprinting to the set, and his eyes had the kind of mischief that made Y/N instantly nervous.

He was wearing a dark navy blazer, a light beige shirt (unbuttoned just enough to be criminal), and some fitted brown trousers with dark brown loafers.

“Konnichiwa,” he said with a crooked grin. “I’m Yuki.”

“Oh my god, hi! You brought food?!”

“Yeah, of course. I don’t trust people who don’t bring food to a first impression.”

“Wait, hold on. Did no one tell you that we do actually feed people here?”

“They told me. But I’m a chef. I don’t care. I have to cook, you know? It’s like, if I don’t cook, I go crazy. Very bad for my head.”

Y/N laughed. “Okay, walk me through it. What is all of this?”

Yuki stepped behind the cart and started pointing things out with a bit of dramatic flair.

“Alright. First, mini beef Wellingtons. Very boujee, I know. Puff pastry, tender beef, mushroom… what’s it called… duxelles. And truffle oil. Because we’re classy today.”

“…I think I might be falling in love. With the Wellingtons. But also maybe you?”

“We just getting started, bro.”

He moved on like it was a race.

“Caprese skewers. Tomato, mozzarella, basil, balsamic. Very basic but tasty, okay? Then, crispy tuna tartare cones. They’re cute, yeah? Like little ice cream cones but for sushi people.”

“You made these? From scratch?”

“Yeah. If I didn’t, I would be angry at myself. That’s my standard, you know?”

Y/N looked at him like he’d walked straight out of a fantasy. Meanwhile, Yuki just kept listing food like it was normal.

“Mini lobster rolls. Brioche buns, proper lobster, not fake crab meat. Dill. A little lemon. Then, duck confit bao buns. Sweet, salty, soft, just like me.”

“Okay, now you’re showing off.”

“Wait, wait. Almost there. Veggie option too. Ratatouille tartlets. Eggplant, zucchini, bell pepper, goat cheese. I’m very thoughtful, okay?”

“This is actually insane. You’re making everyone else look bad right now.”

“That’s the idea.”

Y/N just stared as Yuki uncovered another tray.

“Don’t worry. Dessert’s coming. You still have space, right?”

“…Of course you did.”

“Okay, raspberry rose macarons. Then chocolate lava cakes. The gooey ones, yeah? Like, when you break it, the middle goes boom. You know? Then mousse cups, strawberry, champagne, very sexy.”

“…Okay. We’re canceling the rose ceremony. I’ve found the one.”

Yuki grinned, clearly proud of himself. “Not bad for someone who doesn’t even bake.”

“Okay, tell me about yourself.”

“I’m twenty-three, from Japan, and I work as a chef. Obviously.”

“What, uh, brings you here?” Y/N asked, trying to focus.

Yuki shrugged, casual but honest. “I don’t know, man. I want to try. Put myself out there. Maybe I crash and burn. Maybe I win. Like Formula 1, yeah? Big risk, big reward.”

“What would you do for a first date with me?”

Yuki smirked. “Honestly? I cook. You sit there and look pretty. Maybe I let you stir a sauce or something. But no stress. Just eat and vibe.”

“And if you could travel anywhere?”

He perked up. “Bologna. Italy. Bro, the food. It’s insane. Pasta, cheese, prosciutto, everything is elite. But also? Kind of dangerous. If we go, your nutritionist will kill me. You’ll gain, like, five kilos just looking at a plate.”

He laughed, leaning a bit closer.

“But I’d enjoy it. I’d enjoy you. We learn pasta, we eat pasta, maybe a kiss if you’re lucky. It’s kind of like Japan, you know? Food is love. I would like to show you.”

(cut to Y/N’s interview)

“Okay. So, um. Yuki. What the hell? I was not prepared. Like, emotionally, physically, spiritually… for that much food. Or that much flirtation hidden under a layer of duck bao buns and lava cake. And he’s twenty-three. Twenty-three. Which should be an… orange flag. But also, he’s a literal chef? Like a chef chef? And he brought lobster rolls. If I get food poisoning tonight, it was worth it. ...But seriously, he’s funny, he’s quick, and the way he talks about food makes it sound like poetry. And he looked at me like I was the main course. And I kind of liked that? I’m in trouble.”

(cut to Yuki’s interview)

“Did you see his face when I brought out the cake table? I thought he was going to pass out. And then he made that little noise when he bit into the tuna tartare cone? Yeah. I heard it. I’ll be thinking about it for weeks. I know I’m younger. I know people will probably say I’m not serious or I’m here to stir things up. But I’m not here to play games. I cook because it’s how I show love. It’s how I care for people. If I like someone, they get fed. And right now, I like Y/N. A lot. I don’t know what will happen, but… if he lets me in, I’m going to give him everything. Food. Support. Affection. The works. And seconds. Always seconds.”

taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life, @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @badblondebisexualboy, @ghostking4m, @fate-posts, @evelyn-4034, @jupiter-je-taime, @redcrescentmoons, @youraveragebritishamerican, @v3lnys, @thatonesblog, @bangbangdevotee, @annegrey, @pear-1206, @alchemxx, @koalapastries, @saucy-apples, @milessunflowers, @dramaticpiratellamas, @bunnisgreen, @jamesiesposts, @tammyfortis, @sleutherclaw, @blazecosplay, @toodeepintofandoms

[mrslittletall]

I have streamed Omori for the past three Sundays and normally I don't talk about my streams as I already played these games. But this is a blind playthrough and I wanna yap about the game here. So first thing first: NO SPOILERS PLEASE! I want to uncover the mystery myself. You can give me gameplay tips, but story spoilers are absolutely OFF the table.

So, I love how the game started kinda ominous, and in this white room and you can look at the sketch book full of vent art and the ominous strange journal on the laptop... And then you go through the door, and everything is happy go lucky, whimsical and fun! It reminds me a lot of Earthbound. Omori has friends that love him and everything is so cute ^^ Of course I wasn't thinking that it stayed like this. I also did notice early on that Omori is monochrome while everyone else is in colour. So we follow Basil to his house and then the mystery begins. And boom, the game does a masterful shift to Sunny, basically telling us that what we just experienced was an escapist fantasy. And that Omori is actually Sunny, a deeply depressed (?) teenage boy who apparently hasn't left the house in years. (I have to mention, the first time I came back and wandered around the white space, not finding an exit, I opened the menu, noticed the stab option and freaked out about it. I have this all on video. It felt like a LOT and I was like "Oh my god, he really is doing this!")

Well, and then... well, we are going back to escapism world, searching for Basil, going to a Junkyard, fighting funny enemies (the Dial Up modem cracked me up), and having a killer boss fight against Space Ex-Boyfriend with a killer OST, like, woah, I liked the music before, but this was the moment where I thought "This SLAPS!" And then Sunny is awake again, and anyone who had doubts now knows this is like an escapism fantasy... And now comes the part that hit me the most. Seeing the friends in real life. Kel is trying very hard to connect but his scatterbrainedness makes him a bit of a neglectful friend (convinced he has ADHD tbh). Aubrey is a straight up bully. Like, this one HURT! What happened to the happy and cheerful girl when she was 12?! Hero is absent, at college. And I have the feeling Hero WAS the glue holding the group together... And Basil, oh Basil, I felt for you so much. He's so scared and anxious, something terrible happened to him and he must be deeply traumatized about it... Like, I didn't expect that a game that has a fun boss battle against an enemy called Space-Ex-Boyfriend to be so deep and give me so many feels just 10 minutes later, you know?

[vamprel]

Diwali with the Touchstarved LIs !!!

Quick little note, this is my first time doing anything like this so I’m sorry if it’s wonky and a bit out of character :’) also I’ll add the translations for some things at the end !!

—————

- For the puja, I think Kuras would be in charge of making the diyas

- Someone would have to make the sweets so uh I feel like Mhin could be a decent cook, Ais would cook out of nescessity, and Leander could cook well as long as someone makes sure he doesnt start experimenting and make whatever that gooey green drink was....

- Leander would buy the laddoos, and would assist Mhin in making the kheer

- Vere would be in charge of the rangoli, and obviously it’s going to look spooktacular (monster high reference, I can’t stop saying it.)

- During the puja, the MC/reader would be in charge of it because uh idk maybe they happen to be Indian so…!!! (Are there other Indian Touchstarved fans please where are you guys 💔)I feel like Vere would kind of be away from it because of the bell and I feel like he would have sensitive hearing because well, fox ears guy!!

- Mhin and Ais would DEVOUR all of the sweets after the puja

- For the first prayer song moment I feel like it would go well, then the second one Vere may try to annoy someone idk Mhin maybe and then everything spirals…

- it’s okay eventually everything calms down and we get to do fireworks !!

- Ais and Leander would go crazy with the fire bang or snaps or whatever those are called I don’t know 😞 they’d get into a competition on who can throw down the whole bag and get all of them to explode at once

- Mhin would look at the sparkler in their hand like Howl Pendragon looking at the star

- Vere would try to light everyone but Ais on fire. You’re next. Run.

- Okay time for fireworks show time !!

- Vere loves looking at the fountain of colors exploding in the sky, but would hate how loud it sounds

- Kuras and Ais likes all of the fireworks, he isn’t bothered by the noise or blinding colors, he admires them all.

- Leander seems like the guy to love fireworks, and the type of guy to start saying some huge festival speech that the others tune out

- I don’t think Mhin would like fireworks at all because of how flashy and loud it is, so they’d be inside consuming the rest of the kheer or chugging some falooda

- Or Leander dragged them out because festival time!! We must be together!! Friendship!!!! So now they’re by Kuras covering their ears and glaring at Leander

- Eventually everyone calmed down and finally looked at the fireworks

- Happy ending.

——-

Hey y’all sorry for the abrupt stop, I’m exhausted. I have so many art ideas and fic ideas all while being a student and it’s exhausting, so this is bad I know. Anyway the translations

Puja- it’s basically worshipping or prayer time.

Diyas- 🪔 THERES AN EMOJI FOR IT anyway it looks like that! The way my family does it is we have the little clay cup part and a piece of cotton, twist it, put it in the cup with some ghee(a specific type of butter) and boom you got a diya

Laddu/laddoo- for this you have to search up… it’s this orange colored and spherical shaped sweet, but i don’t know what it’s made of

Kheer- Indian rice pudding 10/10

falooda- kind of a milkshake, with basil seeds and sev (noodle things) inside, and it’s scrumptious there’s multiple flavors the the rose flavor is the best and iconic one 10/10

[sailorsplatoon]

Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to my newest oc, Nita!

(made with this maker)

Her pronouns are she/her, she's transfem and bisexual! Her parents were in the Octarian Army, and they ran away with her when she was 12, just barely young enough to not become an official soldier yet. Nita did go through several years in the Octarian school system, but was homeschooled after deserting with her parents. She's gone against most of what the Octarian Army stand for, but there are some bits of Octarian propoganda that she still believes in.

Living just outside Inkopolis Square with her parents, Nita quicky developed an affinity for music, specifically Off the Hook. She idolized Marina in particular for the fact that she was also an octoling who had escaped, and it was actually watching Marina that made her realize she's transfem!

Nita began making her own music in Inkopolis when she was 15. She sings and does all of her own mixing, and her genre is considered to be more on the folk music side. Surprisingly, rather than becoming popular in Inkopolis, her music's popularity boomed in Splatsville. To chase her music career, Nita moved to Splatsville, where she became one of the more popular musicians there. She's not idol level by far, but she's considered to be among the smaller splatbands.

After living in Splatsville for a while, Nita met @sniffingcinnamon's oc Basil, and the two fell in love! She is his girlfriend, and the two are completely head over heels for each other!

[ominoose]

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫-𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

Summary: Random drabble's about Steven Grant meeting other Oscar Isaac characters. No Marc or Jake co-concious, only referenced. Characters: Basil Stitt, Leto Atreides, Poe Dameron A/N: This randomly hit me and I wanted to write it because it was funny. Used a spinny wheel for it. Also idk if BB-8 can do that but now he can.

London was it's usual muggy, busy self as Steven ran down the street, hoping to catch the bus to work. It had been hard enough to get a job after the Museum Incident, but maintaining a position was proving to be a much harder endeavor between his abnormal sleeping patterns and head mates.

"Oi! Wait, please!" Steven was within touching distance just as the bus sped off, and at the lack of anything to rest his weight on or break his fall, the man found himself tumbling face first into traffic.

☽ 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐭 (Lightningface)

+ When Steven first wakes up in the apartment, his first thought is that he's woken up in a bomb site. The apartment is a mess, furniture and clothes strewn everywhere haphazardly. He's momentarily glad Marc isn't replying in his head, knowing the American would have an aneurysm over the state of the place.

+ Basil is the one to find Steven, jumping up from his spot on the couch and staring at him like he's an alien. The first thought in his mind is that Ricky the Monkey did some crazy magic and brought a clone to replace him. Poor Steven barely has a chance to process the situation before he's trying to calm his scarred, other American look alike down and explain his situation. Nothing manages to convince Basil there isn't some magic going on here, but he stops viewing Steven as an evil replacement.

+ After the initial shock and awkward introductions, they manage to sit down and chat for a few minutes. Basil shares the story of the lightning strike, insisting that its imbued him with magical powers. Steven, bless his heart, immediately believes this and boasts about his own moon powers too.

"You know, I've always wanted to try jumping off the roof and flying, have you done that?"

"Oh no, my mate Marc usually handles that, but maybe we can practice together? Have you got a suit as well?"

"Yeah, it's this paper bag and bed sheet I fixed up myself! C'mon, I have a stool on the balcony-"

"Wait, hang about.... Actually, mate, on second thoughts, lets not."

+ Steven ends up convincing Basil to properly fix his apartment, not just brush away the broken shards and dust. So that's what they do for a while, busying themselves as they theorize on how to get Steven back home with only a handful of brain cells between them. Basil listens with surprising intensity when Steven ends up branching off into Egyptology tangents, and likewise Steven nods along when Basil brings up all the documentaries he'd watched recently. In the end, the apartment does end up in much better shape, and the pair become quite chummy.

"Damn. Thanks for the help... Maybe I did overreact a bit."

"Yeah, it's no problem bruvs, it happens. Surprised the doctors didn't give you anymore meds, though I suppose over here its not like the NHS."

"Oh, no I didn't go to the hospital."

"...You wot?!"

𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐀𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 (Dune)

+ Coming to on hot, sandy slabs is enough of a trigger point to Steven Grant as they come. Coming to on hot, sandy slabs with weird astronauts in suits pointing space guns at him goes beyond frighting and circles back into 'Shit yourself' territory. Thankfully they seem to speak English. Unfortunately, his high pitched screams and babbling British noises don't make sense to them while they peer down their guns at him with confusion. It isn't until a booming voice draws everyone's attention that Steven gets a chance to breath.

+ Said breath is swiftly knocked back out of Stevens lungs when a wiser, nobler and older version of him walks into the room, commanding the attention of every single space soldier in the room. The man stares down at him as he lays huddled on the ground, curled into himself, and quirks a single well groomed eyebrow at him.

"I am Duke Leto of House Atreides. You have penetrated your way into my home. Who are you?"

"I-I-I'm S-Steven Grant. Of the... Giftshop."

The Duke continues his stony stare at Steven for a few seconds longer before holding out a calloused hand.

"Well Steven of the Giftshop, I think we both have many questions for one another, and hopefully some answers."

+ When Steven finally gets over being starstruck at the dignified, royal version of himself, and when Leto makes the accidental mistake of mentioning that they're billions of years in the future on another planet, Steven freaks out, having a 10 minute long panic attack. When that's over he geeks out instead, asking a million questions about technology, using apologies as commas and full stops.

"Do people still know about Khonshu in this era?!"

"I'm afraid I am not familiar with that name."

"Lucky sod."

+ Leto thinks the strange, weird sounding clone of himself is a schizophrenic long lost cousin, but at lease he isn't trying to kill him over a title. It's not as common in Arrakis, or the general noble courts, to find someone as earnest, honest and willing to learn as Steven seems to be, which earns him a surprising amount of respect from the Duke.

𝐏𝐨𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 (Star Wars)

+ Waking up in a space ship that's doing somersaults mid-battle while dodging and weaving around beams trying to explode it out of the sky was almost as stressful as waking up on a London bus at 8am. Commendably, Steven didn't scream or cry, but simply had a silent panic attack until a rolling white and orange ball started beeping at him, or rather the ridiculously handsome version of him currently flying the plane.

"Who the hell are you and how did you get on my cruiser?!"

"Bloody hell, not another handsome American me!"

"What?! BB-8, check for a concussion!"

+ After being given a water bottle by the polite little droid, Steven finally managed to calm himself down by the time the ship touch down and the pilot in matching droid colours sprang before him, launching question after question. When he clocked Stevens face, he was speechless, brows slowly knitting over his eyes as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him. Mid stare-down BB-8 nicked the Brits skin, running a quick diagnostic test and beeping the results out to the pilot who's eyebrows swiftly un-knitted at the noises.

+ Taking advantage of the silence, Steven tries to explain himself and his situation, insisting he comes in peace and simply wanted to get home before Donna got another excuse to give him the sack. The pilot finally introduced himself as Poe, the best pilot in the resistance at that, and with a sigh he promised to try and figure out how to get Steven back to whatever galaxy London was from.

+ Poe tries to explain the resistance and the empire to Steven, who in turn compares it to Ammits cult and jointly rants about those who take choice and freedom from the innocent. Poe is happy enough that his weird blood ancestor is with the resistance, even if he does constantly regard him with a quirked eyebrow, wondering how in the universe he managed to evolve from this walking concussion. For a second time Poe is rendered silent as Steven mentions being Moonknight.

"Oh yeah, I've done that too, at least those Jedi blokes doesn't send their jackals after you though!"

"You've... fought? In battle?"

"Course, yeah. Fought off giant gods back to the underworld, stopped the day of reckoning as the souls of the living were flooding the underworld. It was just the other day actually."

"...You killed god?!"

+ Steven absolutely adores BB-8 and Leia, a feeling the bot and all of the resistance seem to happily return, much to the dismay of Poe. Steven's quite flustered from all the attention and questions, leaving Poe to drag him away in a huff, claiming they need to get back to figuring out how to send him home. It feels like a babysitting gig more than anything, but deep down it strokes Poe's ego when Steven ooh's and ahh's at all his resistance tales.

[samobservessonic]

I’m always here for fanart of Amy carrying a weapon!

The joke’s not very funny, but I’m going to explain this one, because one thing I’ve learned on this blog is there are a lot of StC fans from outside the UK who just have to nod along when the comic references very British stuff, like Red Nose Day and the prison uniforms. Anyway, “Boom, Boom” was the catchphrase of a British fox puppet character called Basil Brush. He was famous from the 60s-80s, then they skipped him out in the 90s when I was a kid, before giving him a reboot in the 2000s. So I was kind of the one generation of British kids that avoided Basil Brush, because by the 2000s I was already watching anime instead of whatever CBBC was airing. But yeah, he tells a joke and then says “Boom, Boom”. So “Sonic Boom, Boom” is just combining those two things

Told you it wasn’t funny