#crnch

[druidshollow]

yummy snack! :D yummy snack! :D yummy snack! :D yummy snack! :D yummy snack for lizor

[ask-chihiro-fuji-saki]

well not much seems to be happening right now, so I’ll just casually give Chihiro a bag of popcorn just so he can chill in this endless void that just has a bed and nothing else for some reason.

Crnch cnch crnch

[swordmaid]

girls when they remember [the lovers. ‘twould be cruel to seperate the good knight and his lady. but which one is the knight and which one is the lady?]

[katsukistofu]

my caffeine mix-up!

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | pt. ii

You take a sip of your morning coffee and almost spit it out on your dashboard.

This could not be your order. It was so… unusually sugary. Too sugary. Like someone liquified a whole candy store and shoved it into a venti cup.

Still reeling a little from the overly sweet aftertaste that lingers on your tongue, your eyes trail down to read:

Vt Crml Crnch Frap

5 Banana

Ex Caramel Drizzle

Extra Whip

Extra Ice

Ex Cinnamon

7 pumps Add Dk Crml Sauce

Ex Caramel Crunch

1 pump Honey Blend

Heavy Cream

Double Blended

What kind of pretentious asshole orders this garbage? Were their taste buds dead?

You mentally sent your condolences to the poor person that had to make this disgusting monstrosity of a drink. Please, you would’ve taken one look at the order and thrown it in the trash.

Your eyes searched the paper cup for who your local coffee shop transgressor was– catching sight of a scribble in blue marker reading “H-A.” You moved your hand a bit to reveal a “W-K-S.” A sense of dread creeps in as you numbly stare at the squiggly heart next to it.

It was like someone slipped an ice cube down the back of your shirt.

You had mistakenly picked up the wildly famous winged pro hero’s order and to make things even worse, put your mouth on where his was supposed to be.

Okay that sounded kind of dirty. But it’s not like you could drive back and return it now, what with your lip gloss already staining the lid.

Hey, um, I think I accidentally took a sip of the Hawks’s coffee? Oopsies? You guess you could pay for his order to be remade, but who’s to say he’ll even come back for it, much less accept it from some random stranger?

You were already running late to your desk job as is, and your coworkers were probably scratching their heads, wondering where you were since you always arrived at least half an hour before them. Should you just throw it away and pretend it never happened?

Oh god, would some person dig through the trash the moment you turned your back and extract your DNA from your lip gloss on the lid, thinking you were a deranged fan who stole his drink on purpose?

Or worse—that you were his secret girlfriend picking up his drink who had just wanted a little taste first before delivering it to him?

Your brain starts to wring itself dry of all the possibilities that could happen, shuddering despite each one being as unlikely as the next. An impressive mental workout for an un-caffeinated person at barely eight in the morning.

You wish you never even went to get your usual little treat today. That barista definitely looked right at you when you went to pick up your order, you swear they did.

But now that you’re thinking about it, maybe they were looking at the person standing behind you that you didn’t see as you rushed out of the shop? How do you even miss a man with wings that big?

Something gently knocks on the driver side window and you almost jump out of your seat.

As you roll it down with caution, your brain momentarily stops functioning as you’re met with a pair of striking golden eyes. Another inch of tinted glass down, a strong Grecian nose.

Forget work, the hell. You didn’t even know noses could be that pretty, and as your last bit of window disappears into the car so does your self-respect as you realize he’s abandoned his usual tan-colored jacket, standing before you in his black compression shirt with gold embossment.

Forget everything, actually.

You don't realize you’re holding your breath until he laughs at you, and you sheepishly close your slightly parted lips.

“Didn’t know coffee thieves came this cute.” Drinking in your appearance his keen eyes stray from yours, slowly trailing down to your trembling lips, a stark contrast to the growing smirk on his. “Or this nervous.”

His fingers drum absentmindedly on the side of your car door, clear amusement written across his handsome face as he waits for you to say something. You collect yourself and snap out of your thoughts, taking a deep breath.

“I’msososorryIdrankyourcoffee!” You squeeze your eyes shut in embarrassment as your words come out in a jumble. “I totally grabbed the wrong order and I can’t believe I didn’t see you waiting behind me, I swear I’m not a creep–”

“Hey, hey,” Hawks gently interrupts you, reassurance laced in his voice. “It’s all good, no harm done.” He taps the paper cup that somehow miraculously hasn’t slipped out of your fingers yet.

“Sooo was it good?”

You choke on air, not expecting that. “Your drink?”

“Yeah, my drink.” He shoots you a cheeky grin. That bastard. “Good or nah?” You pause, contemplating if you should lie–no. No, today you chose honesty.

“...Genuinely, I have no idea how you drink this shit.”

Hawks laughs at your bold answer. “Thanks for being my little taste tester anyways. Too sweet, huh?” The tip of his finger traces around the remnants of your lip gloss on the lid, the cup still in your now slightly shaky hand as you nod.

His touch seared against your skin, as his pretty fingers closed around yours to raise the drink up to his lips to take a slow sip, eyes never leaving your own.

With a gaze that was infuriatingly sultry as it was sweet, like a bird of prey beckoning a field mouse to be their next meal, he murmurs, “Just how I like it.”

You’re not really sure he was talking about the coffee anymore.

He hums, and your thighs involuntarily clench a bit as his soft-looking mouth closes around the opening of the lid to take another sip.

“I’d say you’re a villain that deserves their own special category.” He grins, eyes sparkling conspiratorially. “One that involves letting me take her out to dinner.”

If you weren’t sitting down you know your legs would have given out. “Like… like on a date?” You gape at him incredulously. Because there was no way. Hawks. Just asked you out.

“Now sweetheart, what else would it be?” Hawks smirks at your dazed expression, like you’re sure you misheard him. So cute. “I mean, unless you don’t want to–”

“No!” He blinks, and your hand flies to cover your mouth at your sudden outburst.

“I-I mean, I want to…” You shyly say at a much quieter volume, fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. He leans closer to you with a grin, languidly resting his folded arms over the open frame of your car door.

“It’s a date then. I know this really good sushi and ramen place down the block near my agency, my treat of course.”

“If I’m a villain is this your idea of rehabilitation?” You joke dryly. “Because it’s working.”

He tips your chin up. “Oh don’t worry pretty, I’m just getting started with turning you into a good girl.” A hot flush creeps up your neck to your cheeks, and you almost melt into a puddle right then and there at your steering wheel.

“I’d love to stay but I’m actually so late for work right now.” You utter weakly, chin still resting against his finger. Hawks tilts his head at that, unfolding his vibrant crimson wings as he wordlessly opens the front door of your car.

With little effort and an impressive flex of his biceps, plus a sharp intake of breath from you, one of his arms slips under your thighs and another firmly hugs you just under your shoulder blades as he lifts you up to his firm chest.

A smirk tugs at his lips as he feels your flustered arms hastily reach up to wrap around his neck. Honeyed eyes like molten gold meet yours as he gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh through your pencil skirt, and once again you find yourself needing a reminder to breathe.

“So, where to?”

‎

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‎

“IS THAT FUCKING HAWKS OUTSIDE OUR COMPANY’S BUILDING?!”

say you can’t sleep, baby i know, that’s that me expresso~ ♪

[richielikesballs]

Snowing in March as per usual in Ireland :T

[asherashedwings]

Chewing on ur Pico design...... crnch. Mrnch. Yumm

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 5 - Silver Fang

Gripped by paranoia, Matchstick hides out in the burrow... At least, until its previous owner returns: another local cryptid known by the townsfolk as the Silver Fang.

~*~

Mystic

…

Aside from the distant whirr of vehicles driving by on the road, nothing reaches him in his hiding place. He’s left alone with the pile of garbage he’d used for warmth, and his fears that kept him cold.

…

The gurgle in his stomach came back.

He ignored it.

…

The next day, it hurt more.

He ignored it.

…

After two days, he couldn’t stand the ache anymore. His throat hurt, too. He felt parched. He needed something to drink. This was something he’d never had to worry about before, in the facility. Whatever they did to him- or gave him- it only eliminated the need for food and water for so long.

Spooky

Regardless of however the fuck his body was supposed to function, it was making one thing urgently clear- this was not it. He was going to fucking die like an animal in this hole in the ground if he didn't do something.

The moment he tried to get up from where he was laying, though, it felt like his limbs were made of lead. His arms reached out and felt around him in vain hope of finding anything edible in here that he hadn't eaten yet, even though he knew what little stores he had were gone within the first day.

He did find some paper trash and tried to eat it out of desperation, though it burnt to ash so quickly and his attempts to swallow it just made his throat feel even more dry than before. This wasn't working, he needed to get out.

With no fuel left to go on other than fear of death, he managed to force himself up onto all fours and clumsily crawled towards the entrance. As he did, he feverishly tried to remember if he'd seen any water close by, but the only one that came to mind was that little pond in the place with the sand tubes...

Mystic

…crnch

crunch crinkle-crnch

That was footsteps. Walking over leaves.

Getting closer.

crunch crunch

thud crnch thd

Oh that was heavy. Whatever it was, was big.

thmp crunch thd crnch

The footsteps pause. Something snuffles at the edge of the hole.

Then- all of his light is promptly blocked out, as a hulking, spiny shape blocks the entrance.

He has no visual reference to know what the hell this is. All he can tell, silhouetted by the sun, is that it’s large, reflecting light off the edges of their shape, and has two yellow eyes peering down into the hole.

Oh- and the big claws they’re using to brace themselves at the edge of the burrow. Can’t forget those.

The yellow eyes widen at the sight of him in the pit, surrounded by… trash. The head- which has two frilled-looking ears on the sides of the pointed head- tilts slightly to one side. A rumbled noise emits from its throat, staring down at him.

Spooky

Cast into complete darkness save for the weak glow of his eyes and mouth, he shakily backs away from the tunnel, terror gripping his heart. He had no idea what the hell that thing was, he had no way to even describe what he was looking at beyond huge and pointy, and that was all he could gather from the initial silhouette.

The worst part was, it filled up the whole tunnel. There was no getting around it. He was trapped. Like... Some kind of small thing in a trap. He'd been hunted before, but confronted with this huge creature that snuffled at him, he felt distinctly like prey. Was he gonna get eaten?!

Out of the sheer stress of the situation he was in, he could feel his body trying to ignite. 'Trying' being the key word, because he was running on empty at this point and any strength his powers had before were completely shot in his current weakened state. The occasional lick of flame would crawl up his body, flutter into the air and promptly die, but for the most part he just huddled against the back wall, shaking and sparking.

Mystic

The hulking thing tilts its head the other direction, blinking once as it regards him. Another rumbling sound comes from its chest.

…it leans forward slowly, taking a cautious step into the hole. The giant claws on the forelimb sink into the soft dirt.

Another step. It’s so big that each step crosses nearly four feet of distance. The spines- which appear to be some sort of silver-colored plates, once the sunlight is no longer directly shining on them- scrape faintly against the ceiling of the den. Bits of earth shower down the spines with the sound of a chain link fence, landing on the floor of the burrow with a drizzle of sand. A long tail of similar plates drags behind it, curling slightly at the end as they get closer.

The thing pauses as embers and sparks flicker at his skin. It blinks some more, looking at him curiously. It leans in, sniffing.

Then it recoils back, muzzle scrunching up in- disgust? That was a very palpable expression of disgust on that inhuman face. They stick their tongue out at him, huffing a snort out of their shiny black nose. It shakes its head. Another rumble, and it- backs up? A heavy breath, in and out.

Wait- was that a sigh? Did this thing just fucking sigh at him?

It turns around, leaving him to face a veritable wall of pinecone scales, and starts trundling back out of the hole.

Spooky

He curled up in as little of a ball as he possibly could the closer it got to him, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt its nose get close enough to sniff him.

However, instead of the sensation of teeth sinking into his flesh, the snout suddenly withdrew. He peeked up through his fingers as it reacted with disgust. There was little space with the creature in there with him, so he continued to hug close to the dirt wall as the creature turned around and another veritable wall of heavy armored plates moved past him with about a foot to spare. Soon the den emptied out as it moved back up the tunnel and out.

...What just happened?

Fuck it, he didn't care. He was so relieved that he fell back to the ground and glowing tears spilled from his eyes despite being in limited supply at this point. He needed a moment.

Eventually he regathered enough strength to climb back out of the den. He couldn't tell what time it was for the life of him. The sky was partially dark but whether it was dawn or dusk he had no fucking clue. Either way the light, as limited as it was, hurt his eyes after he'd been underground for days, and he was forced to squint.

His body still felt clunky and hard to move, but he had to get to that fucking water, so he forced his protesting limbs to move. It felt like he almost had to walk on all fours half the time to avoid falling over, but whatever worked. At this point he felt like if he fell over, that would be it for him. There were a few points where it felt like he couldn't go on, and he might've slumped to the earth and eaten some grass off the ground- it was kind of a blur honestly- but somehow by some miracle that familiar building came into sight, and that tree, and those food tubes.

He plunked down next to the pond, and had a very strange moment in which, despite being deathly afraid to get his face near the water before, thirst seemed to take over and the next thing he knew he was leaning down with his hands gripping the sides of the pond and his face practically half submerged, greedily gulping down water like... Well, his life DID depend on it.

Mystic

The water was nectar from heaven. It soothed his throat, which had cracked and ached from the ashy paper dust. Not even the sweet sticky water from the weird hanging tubes had tasted this good, or eased the pain of thirst quite this well. Even the cold temperature didn’t deter him- if anything, it felt even better! Steam puffed out of his mouth every time he had to stop to take a breath.

Nothing attacked, assaulted, or ambushed him while he drank his fill. The pond was empty, with no surprise fish people waiting for him. He could drink in peace.

By the time he’s finished, the pond water level is noticeably lower, about an inch or two. Steam is curling up into the air around him from wherever water touched his heated skin in the fervor to drink.

…his limbs feel sore. Sitting down by the water’s edge felt so nice, even though he was very exposed right now. The desperation to sate his thirst overrode self-preservation for the time being.

…hm?

He smelled something. Something- good.

Even though his stomach was feeling a bit waterlogged, it cramped in protest. He was still hungry, and whatever that smell was, it was making him hungrier.

The smell wafted from something sitting on the porch of the house. A flat white disc, with some kind of- something he didn’t recognize. He didn’t recognize a lot of things.

Spooky

He moved closer to inspect the food. It looked like a piece of meat of some kind, with little speckles of something on top of it... There were some sliced-up lumps of something else that were kind of light brown and yellow-ish, and something that looked like tiny green trees. There were some little metal instruments placed down by the white disc, but he ignored them and picked up one of the tiny trees between his thumb and pointer finger and looked at it curiously.

He could recognize this as human food easily enough- it smelled too good to not be. He wasn't sure what it was, but food was food, and he dug right in.

He was so hungry that the food disappeared before he had much of a chance to really taste it, but like the cooked patties he'd managed to snag before, what he could taste of it was so good compared to what he'd been scavenging that it nearly made his eyes roll up in his head. Sure, he'd been taking food from the town, but they seemed able to prepare the food in a way that it was even better somehow... The meat was especially good, having an interesting flavor along with it that he guessed was the stuff sprinkled on it?

Either way, the food was gone quickly and he picked up the white disc, licking it clean.

Mystic

Once the food has all vanished into the furnace that was his gullet, he finally has the opportunity to sit and think without being plagued by demanding organs and various pains.

If that was human food, why was it left out? Surely not to feed any of the animals about. He'd glimpsed people in this place chase off fluffier grey animals with ringed tails from their trash cans or their own food discs. Could those be the 'raccoons' everybody complained about?

This food was left out with the intention to feed a person. But- he'd never seen anybody besides the weird fish-person go into or out of that house. And the only person who went anywhere near the property was-

-him.

...was the food meant for him? And if it was, why?

Was it- bait?

Spooky

He put the disc back down, unease settling in. They had seen him the last time, so they knew he'd been getting food here. But at the same time, it didn't make sense to him why they would leave more food out after knowing he was taking it. The only other possibility he could think of was that it was that person's food and they just forgot it outside... But who would actually do that?

It felt like maybe this was some kind of attempt to trick him, but to what end he had no clue. It wasn't like any traps had sprung and captured him, and there was plenty opportunity for that to happen.

...

Ah shit, that's right, he was in the open! His eyes turned upwards and scanned the sky for any sign of camera drones, but there weren't any. Just open sky, and the high branches of trees. Still, not wanting to take any chances, he retreated back towards the forest.

He could try to figure this out once he was somewhere safer.

~*~

Previous | Chapter Index | Next

[side-of-honey]

gah. wheatley. lets put him in the mortar and pestle

Crumbhc crmc crimch cruch crnch cchchk

[t1r3dd]

hehehehe..

hhaha

mmawful rnt i

aawfullitlstarboyy

[brokenpuns]

kroumnchh crmch crunch crnch

[sillyguyhotline]

grunch crunch crnch crunch crunnch crcmhc

[the-disemvoweler]

crnch mnch

crunch munch

[transgenderprototype]

Bites you bites you bites you bites mrrrow crunch monch crnch croncg

BAPS U BACK BAP BAP BONK BAP BAP THWACK

[cottagecore-glitterwhore]

crmch cumpyh crnch

[ali-annals]

Cracket

Pairing: Timari

Rating: G

WC: ~0.6k

A/N: I wrote this in half an hour out of spite for @/boldlyanxious.

The ball sailed past the half-a-million dollars’ worth vase and hit the mirror, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces with a sharp crash.

Daizzi tucked the bat behind them and cringed. “Oops…”

“Oh no! What are we going to do?” Mullo squeaked, hovering above the pile of glass and wringing their paws nervously.

Footsteps sounded and Marinette came running around the corner. “What happened?”

Ziggy sheepishly faced their Guardian. “We were playing cricket…and Daizzi missed Mullo’s ball.”

Marinette surveyed the scene and sighed. “Please tell me you learned from your lesson and now know why I told you not to play in here? At least it was only the mirror. We can replace that a lot easier than Bruce’s great-great-aunt’s vase.”

It was a hideous thing, painted with a replica of Boticelli’s The Birth of Venus, and oysters and pearls covered the sides as decoration.

Longg, who had been acting as umpire, fetched a broom and dustpan to start cleaning up the mess.

The large pieces were dumped into a bag and the kwami zoomed over the area, making sure no small pieces of glass would be left to shred the foot of an unsuspecting passer-by.

Tim rounded the corner, mug pointed at the sky as he drained the dregs of his coffee mug.

Crnch!

Tim moved his foot. “What was that?” he asked. 

“Cricket,” Mari replied, tying the garbage bag tightly. “The kwa-”

“I squished a cricket?!” Tim yelped, looking around for more. “Where are they? You know I hate locusts and anything related to them after I had to eat them in the desert!”

His flailing mug knocked the vase off the table and Mari watched in slow-mo, horrified, as $500,000 worth of gaudy porcelain splintered into a million shards.

The crash was louder and sharper than the mirror’s, but this time the shocked silence was broken by a wail as Tim fell to his knees in front of the pieces of his mug.

“My coffffffeeeeeeee!!!!!”

Marinette was torn between horror at the accident, relief that it wasn’t her or the kwami who broke the vase so she wouldnt have to reimburse Bruce, and stunned bemusement at her overtired and overcaffeinated boyfriend’s antics.

“Tim, you finished your coffee,” she pointed out. “I think you need sleep more than you need coffee.”

“But it was my favourite mug! You painted it!” He protested, letting her pull him to his feet and head towards the stairs. 

“You have like five favourite mugs. You’ll survive. Come on,” she tugged at him again. “Aren’t you at all worried about the vase you broke?”

“Nah, Alfred leaves out heirlooms Bruce hates so they’ll be a casualty of our shenamingiaminans.” Tim’s head lolled onto her shoulder as he robotically climbed the stairs.

“You mean shenanigans?�� Mari asked, her eyes dancing in amusement at her boyfriend’s slurring and the Wayne butler’s scheming.

“Yeah. That. Shemangans.” He lifted his arm to emphasize his carefreeness and lightly hit her cheek. “Sorry. Bruce hates the heirlooms but his extended relatives would give him no end of trouble if he got rid of them, so Alfred came up with the plan to put out only the things that Bruce doesn’t care about or wants broken, so he has a perfectly good excuse as to why they disappear.” He told her all the antics Bruce and Wayne extended relatives got up to as the caffeine delirium set in.

They reached the top of the stairs and Mari dragged him down the hall, then tucked him into bed. “I’ll make you another mug tomorrow, okay?”

A soft snore sounded from Tim’s pillow and she smiled. “Sleep well, mon canard.”