#had goopy shits for three days and that was it

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, lil smutty, reader has hair long enough to tie up, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: oohhh big changes! we are TALKING! with our MOUTHS! what a time. This is the last part of flatmate!Joe - for real this time. I truly hope you've enjoyed what is still my most plotless (imo) bit of writing, lmk your thoughts <3

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

There was something living inside of your chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Soft. Vulnerable. Silently shrinking. It had gotten hurt and was wearing its bruises on the outside. When it got poked, you could feel the shooting pains as it curled in on itself more. It would find the safest spots to squeeze its eyes shut and you’d mentally tell it, it’s okay. You’re okay.

It wasn’t okay.

Maybe therapy wasn’t an insane suggestion, anymore, at this point. You felt like you were protecting a child to the point where you couldn’t let it see the light of day. Couldn’t let it go outside and play. Couldn’t let it have friends – let it meet Joe. Couldn’t let it experience anything joyful, because if you did, it’d probably experience more hurt too.

But it was hurting anyway.

And now it was only pain it got to feel. Never joy. Just bruises and cuts. Scrapes that slowly formed thick drops of blood that hardened into scabs which pulled at your skin and eventually turned into scars.

You wished you’d known that before you locked it up inside.

There was something living inside of your chest, and it carefully wished it could speak up and be heard.

When you’d walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, a surprised Josh raised his eyebrows at you. He was leaning back into the sofa and had an acoustic guitar in his lap that he was absentmindedly playing whilst he was watching TV on a low volume. The guitar playing stopped when he saw you and didn’t pick back up as he watched you walk over, pillow in hand, facial expression drained.

“Hey, what’s up?” the guitar got moved onto the floor.

You didn’t answer when you put your pillow down on the opposite end of the sofa and took the blanket you’d slept under before. You curled up, ignored Josh who tried to ask if you were okay a couple of times as you stared at the TV. He asked if you wanted to talk about it. Said you probably should talk about it if you didn’t want Josh to think about this all night.

“It’s going to keep me up if I don’t know if you’re okay.”

You ignored it all, didn’t give a shit if Josh was going to get a good night’s sleep, and eventually turned over and faced the back of the sofa. It sent the message it needed to. It took just another moment before Josh turned off the TV, and then the lights as he left you alone.

This was stupid.

But you were stubborn.

You were stubborn and were going to go to sleep on your sofa, even though you were the one that lived here, and maybe Joe should be the one to sleep on the sofa.

Or actually, he could go home. To his own flat. Where all things were his, and the only things that felt like they were yours were the plants you’d brought in and the toothbrush you’d left by his sink.

Yea.

Joe could just leave.

You didn’t care that he was still paying rent.

 But you didn’t actually get up to go and tell him that. Of course not. You just wallowed in thought. In all the would-dos and would-says. Shivered because this new stupid blanket Josh got wasn’t thick enough to keep you warm throughout the night.

You made yourself cry inside of that soup of goopy misery. Felt what lived inside of your chest as it drowned and mentally apologised to it when, after three hours of not being able to actually go to sleep, after three hours of anger that turned into fragile neediness, you decided to get up and make your way back.

Find Joe.

Because, and fuck him for this, Joe always knew how to fucking fix it.

And there was something so silly about walking down the hallway of your flat with tears staining your cheeks to sneak into Joe’s old bedroom. To find Joe inside of the bed there, the lay-out of the room still the same. Joe’s side of the bed still the same.

The click of the door closing made Joe lift his head up in an attempt to see into the dark.

He hadn’t expected you at all, so for a second, he thought that maybe you’d just walked in to get something. Your phone. Or your charger. But then you walked around to your side of the bed and got under the covers. It was too dark to see your face, but you found Joe’s warm body and snuggled up. Pressed your forehead to his jaw and hummed through a sigh and Joe didn’t need to see your face to hug you closer. Didn’t need to see if you’d been crying to wrap arms around, and to tangle legs, and to press a small kiss into your hair.

You wiggled as you settled and sighed as you sunk deeper into the mattress. You could deal with the disappointment within yourself in the morning.

“I’m sorry.” Joe whispered into the dark, and you decided you could also deal with your disappointment in Joe in the morning, so you softly whined and said, “Pause.”

“Pause?”

“Mhm.”

Everything could just be paused. Postponed. Just for a few hours. You just needed to get some sleep.

Joe wasn’t in a position to not accept that. His heart felt full with the nostalgia he unexpectedly found with you sneaking into this room in order to get some sleep. It used to be like this. He was in the same location. In the exact same spot. Just, everything was yours now.

Me too, Joe thought.

Everything was yours now, including Joe. Whether you wanted him or not.

He squeezed you tighter and saw that you got to sleep. Traced finger tips across skin that warmed under the covers, and tickled into your hair by the nape of your neck, and he could feel how you were drifting off and, fuck off, he was yours.

He’d tell you in the morning.

Joe was going to tell you in the morning.

He would.

When Joe woke up, you were gone.

Fucking figures, Joe thought.

The private moment of waking up together that would’ve granted him the security and comfortability to say whatever needed saying was gone now.

Joe rubbed both hands over his face and scolded himself for not waking up as you had gotten out.

But it was fine.

There’d be another moment for it, he’d make sure.

Venturing out of your bedroom, you weren’t in the bathroom. Nor in the living area. He did, however, find Josh in the kitchen.

After awkward but polite good mornings shared, there was some uncomfortable shuffling around. Joe had made breakfast thousands of times in this kitchen, and he was already reaching to open the fridge when he realised that, actually, that was a weird thing to do. He no longer lived there. He couldn’t just go into cupboards and find the food that he knew was there – he knew exactly where the oatmeal went. He knew exactly where to find the cinnamon to sprinkle on top. How the coffee machine worked. Which cupboard to open to find the mugs.

Joe opted to busy himself making a coffee first. The machine was right there on the counter – less weird to reach for it and prepare himself a morning brew.

And Josh was cool about it. Opened a cupboard for him to fetch him a mug. It was a bit of an awkward dance, but a friendly one, tight smiles shared as Josh prepared his own breakfast.

It wasn’t until the loud noise of coffee beans being ground up that Joe decided to just… ask.

Might as well act like last night actually happened.

“Sorry about last night, mate,”

“Oh yea, no worries, I didn’t…” Josh frowned and shook his head as he scraped some butter onto his toast. He didn’t finish his sentence. Didn’t need to. Took a bite before buttering the second piece.

“Have you seen her?” Joe tried sounding as casual as he could, but failed miserably.

It was as honest and vulnerable of a question he was ever going to ask Josh. It revealed he had no idea where the fuck you’d gone, which in and of itself revealed that there was probably a reason you hadn’t told him.

But Josh was relaxed about it.

“Yea. Morning run. You just missed her, I think.”

And it took all within Joe to pretend that didn’t surprise him as much as it did. He just nodded. Pretended like that was a normal thing to hear about. Morning run. Sure. Miss be-useful-first-thing, what the fuck? When had you picked up that habit?

The coffee machine stopped whirring, and Joe took his coffee. Went for a sip immediately and instantly burnt his tongue. Rookie move.

“Is um… is everything okay? I don’t want to pry, but,” Josh asked as Joe moved around the island to sit down.

“Ah, well… you know,”

No, actually, Josh didn’t know.

Which was good.

Joe didn’t really want him to know.

Joe didn’t really want to explain.

Couldn’t really explain.

Where the fuck would he even begin?

“Hmm, yea,” Josh accepted the non-answer easily. “She seemed upset, but wouldn’t really say anything.”

Joe had to suppress a smile.

Of course you hadn’t fucking said anything.

“I asked like fifty times if she was okay, but she… I don’t know, she fully ignored me I guess. Kind of went catatonic on me a little.”

Joe drank his coffee and nodded.

“To be fair though,” Josh made big eyes at himself, “I was being really fucking annoying. I would’ve rolled over and ignored me too, I think.”

Both men let huffs of air escape them in silent laughter.

Then a moment of silence followed where Joe drank his coffee and Josh ate his toast. Joe realised he didn’t like how Josh knew things about you that he didn’t, but the upside was that it was incredibly useful, actually.

Josh talked where you... well, you did not.

“Did she cry?”

He wanted to know.

“No, she just… watched TV for a bit. I don’t know, she seemed tired so I went to bed shortly after to make sure she could get some sleep.”

That meant that, if you’d cried, you had waited for Josh to leave the room. Joe didn’t know if that was a comforting thought or not.

It didn’t take much longer for Josh to finish his toast and to casually suggest for Joe to make his own breakfast. Mentioned that everything on the bottom shelves of the fridge was yours before he walked out, and this morning was just full of surprises.

You split the fridge?!

What kind of sensible flatmate behaviour was this?!

When it was you and Joe, your stuff would just be thrown in wherever. None of it sorted. Joe would end up having your oatmilk in his coffee and you’d end up using his cheese in your omelettes.

Actually, he remembered how this had been the source of bickering for more than once. More than a couple of times. You would fall out over Joe having your food all the time, if he really thought about it. But it was always playful. Always something fun about it. A reason to swear at him until you made yourself laugh, and a reason for him to shut you up with poking fingers in your sides. The back and forth had never prompted you to split the fridge.

Had you and Joe ever been normal flatmates?

Probably not, he guessed.

Joe decided against breakfast in the end and just finished his coffee. Waited until you got back from your morning run, which he still had a hard time wrapping his head around, and when he eventually heard the front door open, he got up to make you a drink.

You knew Joe was still there by his coat that was hung up by the front door.

Fine.

Fine.

It was fine.

You were sweaty and sticky and hot and you could feel your heartbeat in your face, but it was fine.

Walking into the kitchen, you were welcomed by Joe in jeans and a T-shirt, bare feet, hair stupid, already holding out a glass of juice for you.

You took it and refrained from talking as you had a sip. Looked at him over the glass though, and you hoped that what Joe would see was determination. Strength. That he saw someone who wasn’t going to take bullshit, because you weren’t.

You’d just gone for your very first morning run for fuck’s sake.

For a moment Joe just looked right back at you. Watched you have the drink he poured for you. You had bits of hair stuck to your flushed neck and had to breathe through flared nostrils. It was wildly attractive, if you asked him.

“Morning run?”

You caught a small smirk from Joe that you turned away from. Couldn’t look at him be cute when you were supposed to be mad at him still.

Then, in a rogue move, Joe opened the freezer and took a single look inside to find a frozen pizza he took out and tossed onto the counter.

That was meant to mean something.

You gave it a blank stare as Joe looked at you and you sighed.

“Hey,” Joe tried getting your attention back on him, but instead, you put the glass down and turned around. Walked out. Went to your bedroom.

Joe followed.

“Hey,” Joe tried again, stood in your doorway, watching you collect an outfit. “Talk to me.”

It went ignored.

This was the worst part of not having an ensuite; having to take just enough clothes into the bathroom to change in there. You and Josh weren’t exactly on a just-a-towel level yet. Bathrobe felt scandalous too, somehow, even for the five steps it took to get from your bedroom into the bathroom.

Josh could see you in clothes or not see you at all.

Joe easily moved aside when you walked past him, out of your room, and you looked at him as you did.

“Come on. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Joe tried again.

It didn’t feel like you were fully ignoring him, but you weren’t answering him either.

You were thinking Joe was being an idiot.

You were trying, had been trying really hard to meet him where he wanted to be met, and then he just went and let you know he didn’t trust… you? Your flatmate? The situation he’d created with his own two hands?

Felt unfair.

You didn’t say any of that though. Just walked into the bathroom, and then left the door open.

Joe would get the hint, you thought.

He did, but only when you started peeling off your sweat-soaked top with the door wide open, still.

Joe moved quick. Sort of scrambled to get into the bathroom, to lock the door behind him, and then to help you get your top over your head as you struggled with the damp fabric around your shoulders.

You undressed, and Joe helped, and you made eye-contact the whole time.

You could see how he was searching. Trying to find whatever you weren’t saying in your eyes, his chin tucked in, his eyes pleading, all soft and rounded.

Joe tried.

He really tried.

You were getting naked right in front of him, body flushed and glistening with sweat and he got a good look as you stretched your body over the bath to turn the shower on and then you kept staring right at him as you removed more clothes and you were doing something with your eyes and Jesus fucking Christ, Joe was trying.

Trying to not grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake.

Trying not to let his eyes skirt downward because you’d just removed your sports bra and, oof, man, that was a lot of skin on show.

Joe was trying not to hold you by the face and trying not to get real close and trying not to whisper words into your mouth in hopes of coaxing out some of your own. Which… he failed. Because he did get your face into both his hands just after you’d reached up to untie your hair. He did get real close. And he did ask you once more to just talk to him, please.

You handled the close eye-contact fine.

Handled the cupping of your face fine.

And Joe couldn’t stop searching your face.

Was there truly no budging?

Was this… was this it?

Had he just gone and fucked it all up for himself? Had the big plan behind his move imploded because he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were now… no longer in his flat with him? Joe’s mind tried to make sense of it, but all he could really come up with, was that you probably didn’t even consider the two of you to be together.

You’d never talked about that.

Had never mentioned it.

Hadn’t labeled it.

You were just close flatmates that weren’t actually flatmates anymore, and… and now what?

He just wanted you to talk.

You were just in your underwear now, stood in a small bathroom and Joe ticked off all boxes in his mind: you were alone, check. You were close, check. You were in your safe space, check.

The shower was hot now, slowly filling the room with warm steam and, fuck, if you would just fucking talk.

Joe was about to repeat himself. Was about to say it again. But then he saw it.

Something changed.

Your eyes softened and your mouth tightened as you tried to keep your lips wobbling. As you tried to not let what was living inside of your chest get out. When you started blinking more rapidly as your eyes stung with tears, you also began avoiding eye-contact and, good. This was good. Joe let you go then, and watched as you got out of your last piece of clothing before you stepped into the shower.

You left the shower curtain open, and Joe thought he’d never undressed quite so fast.

You’d never shared a shower before.

Something about it felt really momentous, but you didn’t have the opportunity to think about it for too long. The thought vanished just as quickly as it had crossed your mind, because when Joe stepped into the bath behind you and held you by the shoulders before curling his arms around to hold you close, you decided that, actually, you were going to talk.

“You left,” you started, voice far thinner than you wanted it to be.

“I know.”

“You left and you’re making me feel bad about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair. It’s not my fault you moved out,” you reached up to hold onto Joe’s arm across your front and you felt how your eyebrows knitted together when you softly followed with, “Is it?”

And, fuck.

Something snapped into Joe’s chest.

Something swelled and popped.

He didn’t know what that was, all he knew was that it hurt.

“No!” Joe tightened his arms before he let you go enough to turn around. “No, baby, of course not, is that– do you think I left because of you?”  

You looked at each other, and for a moment, Joe didn’t know if he was looking at shower water or tears that were running down your face.

You gave a small shrug before Joe lifted his hands to your face to wipe at your cheeks. If they were tears, they had no business being there, so he needed them gone.

“I didn’t leave this place because of you. Hey,” you avoided eye-contact, so he grabbed hold of you by the face again where both your of your hands found his wrists. “Look at me. Look– I did not move out because of you, all right?”

Well, he did… but, it was nuanced. He moved out for the both of you. He had to be careful. He couldn’t say the wrong thing and ruin what already felt ruined enough.

You gave a tiny nod that he could feel more than he could see, and you looked so fucking sad, Joe couldn’t help but move in to try and kiss some of it from your face.

He hoped you believed him.

You were naked in a shower together, of which Joe was getting none of the stream, and you were trembling because of things Joe had said and done and all he could think to do was hold you.

So he did.

It was a terrible waste of water, but it felt so incredibly necessary for him to not pull back until you did. Let you take the lead. Curl an arm around your head, the other around your waist, and follow your pace.

Joe felt how you were trying to control your breathing, and, you were right. He wasn’t allowed to be the cause.

He was the reason why you were feeling the way you were feeling and he realised he had been, for a while, probably.

Joe pushed you.

Joe had been pushing you.

He shouldn’t have.

He shouldn’t have left and he shouldn’t have tried with all his might to keep you as close to him as you had been before and he shouldn’t have taken his jealousy out on you and he shouldn’t have repeatedly asked you to talk to him because look! Look what all of it had lead to?

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

No more making you meet him halfway.

Joe was going to wait for you.

He would.

It didn’t fucking matter how long it was going to take you, or if you’d even get there at all. He was going to wait. If that meant actually befriending Josh like a normal person, then he was just going to have to befriend Josh like a normal person.

Joe held you close until your finger tips stopped digging into his skin so much, and then he softly said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

And, you frowned. Because what the fuck was Joe talking about.

“But…” you started, and you felt it then. You could feel whatever was inside of your chest collect every little speck of bravery it could find within your body. It pulled it from the muscles in your legs and from the bones in your arms. Found some hidden inside the beating of your heart and then some more in the humid shower air inside your lungs. And then, it said it.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked at you. Didn’t get it.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait. Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…” you furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you. All bravery gone.

Joe saw.

Heard what you were saying and, before you even fucking knew what was happening, Joe had both his arms around your waist and lifted you up, effectively pressing his face right into your tits as he scared the living daylights out of you because you were in the bath.

“Joe–” you shrieked, but were quickly shut up by his mouth that pressed to yours before your feet had even properly touched down again.

“I love you.” Joe squeezed it from his own mouth right into yours. Barely got the words out normal as he didn’t want to stop kissing. Didn’t want to break contact, lips and hands doing the most.

“Joe,” you laughed, giving his shoulders a light push before you felt something against your hip, and– oh.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that. I love you. Did you hear me? I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

Joe froze before he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut, and you looked down to see how hard that had made him.

“I love you too,” you repeated yourself and saw it jump, leaking already, and Jesus, that was quick. This was a fun game actually. Talking suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him.

You took your shot and bit right into his fingers.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

And, yea, you could actually. You shut Joe up with kisses of your own this time.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

It felt momentous because you’d shared words that had been stuck in the back of your throat for a while now.

It felt momentous because Joe just told you that he loved you.

It felt momentous because you said it right back and everything about it felt right.

It felt momentous because you were going to have loud shower sex and Josh was likely going to hear you and you actually didn’t care about it. You cared more about the pizza that was slowly defrosting on the kitchen counter which actually sounded like the perfect breakfast food, if you were being honest.

You and Joe were just flatmates, but not.

Were just close, but more.

Were in love. Had said the words now, for the other to hear with their ears, and wasn’t that a shocking turn of events after last night?

Joe couldn’t explain it if he tried.

Didn’t really want to either.

As long as you knew. As long as you understood.

And you did. The proof was in the pudding.

Something felt alive in Joe’s chest. And in yours too.

Maybe someday, they could meet.

Have a chat.

Talk things through.

Or not.

They could also just look at each other. Sit on the sofa. Curl into each other and eat pizza. Watch the first ten minutes of films before they’d doze off together. Make fun of plants that got overwatered in a desperate attempt to keep them alive because they were buddies with yours and Joe could never be responsible for the death of plants that had friends, were you joking?

They’d call you idiots.

And, yea you were.

But it was fine.

You were just close. In love. Together. And that didn’t need explaining. As long as you knew and understood, that was all that mattered.

You were all that mattered.

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

Your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

[stormsthatrage]

Have three (and a half?) ideas/sketches for the very beginning of the Two Idiots and a Temporal Incident Bleach AU. I made Ichigo a girl in this post because I have a deep-seated desire for more female Bleach characters that a) aren't constantly being rescued and b) aren't hyper-sexualized.

Snippet 1:

Two months after she killed Aizen, Ichigo came to the abrupt realization that she was ready to murder again. 

“Grimmjow,” she said, “if you don’t eat that somewhere else, I am going to kill you.”

Grimm lifted his head to look up at her. The rotted arm hanging from his mouth twitched as he ground down, evidently severing some sort of muscle between his teeth. This was unfortunately the last straw for the limb’s integrity; a large chunk of slimy skin sloughed off, landing on the bare dirt with a horrifically wet plop.

Ichigo told herself she was not going to vomit. 

The back of her throat tightened and her mouth filled with saliva.

She was not going to vomit.

Grimm locked eyes with her. Reached out a clawed hand to pick up the goopy chunk. Brought it towards his lips.

Ichigo contorted herself, leaning out over the side of the boulder she was sitting on, and heaved. Breakfast came up — a protein bar — and so did lunch — another protein bar.

Over the sound of her own gags, she heard him say, “And you think I’m disgusting?”

She gagged one last time, gave herself a second to be sure it really was the last time, and then reached out blindly for her sword hilt. Her fingers scrabbled over cold stone and found Zangetsu’s pommel, and then she was leaping down from the rock, fueled by the blood-thirst of someone a little too far past done with another person’s shit.

Grimm laughed as she crashed down on him, his breath powerful enough that she smelled the sound as equally as she heard it — but he had dropped the arm, and now she got to try and beat his face in, so it was a victory even if it was a Pyrrhic one.

Pantera caught Zangetsu’s edge (a brief connection, a split second of perfect understanding: grief pushed down and buried deep; a growing restlessness, born from the pointless question of now what; desperation to pretend the world remained as it was, before the war, before it was all broken, before they two were the last-) and Grimm shoved upward. Ichigo moved with the force of the block, springing backward and landing in a crouch. He grinned at her, more of a baring-of-teeth than a smile, and lunged forward.

And off they went, the two of them, playing pretend in a forest that was shrinking every day, the unraveling of reality itself closing in.

Snippet 2:

The sky was a perpetual, vibrant blue. 

Ichigo hadn’t stopped to ponder the color of the End of Everything before, well, everything ended. But she thinks if she had, she would have expected it to be black.

Black, like nothing. Black, the color of absence. 

But it turns out that the threshold of the apocalypse — where spacetime was being ripped apart, atoms and quarks torn open and destroyed — glowed.

Hat-and-Clogs had explained it before Aizen had killed him. In a twist of cosmic irony, blue was the color of sunny days and also nuclear fission. And so above them burned a spherical shell of brilliant blue, eating its way closer through the fabric of reality.

And beyond the shell, past the threshold? No color at all there, not even black, just a complete nothing.

There was a pun there, about moths and Aizen’s monstrous transformation and the destruction of fabric and possibly an emperor left wearing no clothes. If Renji had been there, he would have made it. Ichigo wasn’t drunk enough to do it for him. 

Spirits, she missed him. She missed them all, with their stupid jokes and annoying — 

“Can you shut up?” Grimm said. “I would, actually, like to fall asleep sometime this year.”

Ichigo stopped staring at the sky to roll over onto her side, squinting through decaying grass to peer at him. “I haven’t said anything?”

“But you were thinking. I know because I could hear you straining.”

Ichigo considered that, and then rolled over twice more, until she was close enough to Grimm to kick him.

Parallel to her in the grass, he tensed, bracing for a strike.

The joke was on him, though, that wasn’t her move. She let out a horrid, caterwauling wail, doing her best approximation of a drunkard trying to perform an aria. In her opinion, she managed the imitation quite well; the sound was positively, excruciatingly awful. 

Grimm launched himself across the remaining ground between them, landing on top of her and desperately trying to muffle the noise leaving her mouth. “Shut up, shut up, shut up - ”

She laid off screeching in favor of employing a technique all siblings learn early in life: licking the hand trying to silence you.

Grimm recoiled, skittering away and frantically wiping his hand on the ground. “I hate you!” he cried.

Ichigo cackled, and he turned his head to stare at her, shoulders hunched and eyes wide, posture all offended-cat. But there was something else in his eyes, too — something a little self-satisfied, maybe.

She huffed. “Go to sleep, moron,” she said, and closed her eyes. 

Snippet 3:

They stood over Aizen’s corpse. Just the sight of it was enough to make Ichigo’s hands shake with a mixture of fear and anger.

Soul King.

They had avoided this place by unspoken agreement, before now. Had wandered through what little forest remained, staying as far away from here as they could without getting too close to the boundary.

After all, why return? All it was was a reminder of how they had failed. How they hadn’t defeated him. Hadn’t killed him until he had already won in every way that mattered.

So, naturally, their return was prompted by nothing less than what Ichigo suspected was the stupidest plan to ever be created, synthesized from pure frustration, a deep lack of comprehension of kido theory, and the complete assurance that whatever they did, they couldn’t make things worse.

“The bastard didn’t even have the decency to rot,” Grimm said.

It was true. Aizen’s body lay there, perfectly preserved by the hogyoku, as the universe decayed around him instead.

“Looking at it makes me want to kill him again, you know?” Grimm added, kicking the side of the corpse. It was not a gentle kick. Something audibly crunched under his toe. “I feel like once just wasn’t enough.”

Ichigo breathed out. Breathed in. “Well,” she said, and her voice was as still and steady as Hat-and-Clogs could teach her, “if this works, we’ll get a second chance. Better make it satisfying, though, because I sure as hell don’t want to do this a third time.”

Grimm’s fangs glinted blue in the light of The End. “Oh, I have no doubt I will enjoy the opportunity immensely.” 

He crouched down and put one hand over the spot Aizen’s heart should have been. “You sure you’re up for this?” he asked. “Your gargantas have always been shit, you know, and your kido is worse.”

“Oh, fuck you,” she said. “Just do it already.”

And so Grimm unsheathed his claws and plunged his hand into Aizen’s chest. With a series of crunching snaps, a wet sucking sound, and a tide of the stench of iron, he ripped the hogyoku out of Aizen’s chest.

He cradled the tiny ball of divinity between both palms. Ichigo’s hands wrapped tightly around his. The two of them dripped gore and power from their fingers.

Focusing together, with neither array nor incantation, they imagined a clock, spinning backwards, and wished.

The hogyoku glowed, awakening from its sleep.

Blue light turned blinding white.

And everything came undone.

Snippet 3.5ish:

In a shocking turn of fate, the two’s methodology was successful.

But there was one factor — one small but vital factor — that they both forgot.

The type of time travel they embarked on required so much energy because, at its heart, it required undoing. In order to write a different book on pages that have already been printed, the pages must first be erased.

Under normal circumstances, the energy required to do this to a whole universe would be so immense as to be prohibitive. 

With a hogyoku, doing so became possible, but very, very difficult.

Doing so with a hogyoku, with the entirety of the universe already undone, save for few cubic miles?  

Well. The energy for that, dear reader, is peanuts.

And so the two time travelers, who had poured all the energy they could into the hogyoku in the desperate hope of landing far enough back to make a difference, found themselves flung back not two months, not two years, not even two decades, but about two centuries.

… There was, perhaps, a reason, that when everyone was still alive, those two were never put in charge of strategy.

[weaselle]

okay, so like three or four years ago i wrote a post about mashed potatoes, and, while i wouldn't say anything as crass as "it's doing numbers" i feel safe in saying it at least did A number

which ticks up in little batches throughout the year and then for a few weeks every autumn it gets like, idk, several thousand more notes.

and i read a lot of those notes, the ones that include words: comments and tags and reblog additions.

I read them because a lot of them are like "tried this and it was delicious i'm making all my potatoes this way from now on" or whatever (even though i did a terrible job of explaining parts of it) and especially on days when i don't have a lot else going on for me, i really like reading a few new notes like that and knowing that i have recently contributed to someone's small moment of goodness.

BUT

i also read the other ones. I don't take any of them personally, it's just opinions, and a few folks proving i did a terrible job explaining a couple bits. And it's not bad like the internet can get bad, you know, it's mostly like, "ew gross why would you make them all goopy and gross" which is whatever, it's potatoes.

THE POINT IS

i have read what thousands of people have had to say about mashed potatoes, some of which is barely about potatoes, some of which is whole recipes, and everything in between. i have studied at the table of potatoes done mashed.

and i have a couple of conclusions

for instance, as far as i can tell some people love fluffy potatoes with all their heart and some people hate dry potatoes with all their soul and if you are one you probably can't be the other, and so there are opposite qualities being looked for in defining what makes good mashed potatoes.

Because the flavor is pretty much always good: it's potato flavored, plus whatever delicious shit you personally like to add to potato flavor.

but the experience of mashed potatoes. THAT is where the secret lies. How it feels in your mouth. And why we can mostly agree on what good mashed potatoes are, which is sort of halfway between fluffy and creamy, but we can never all agree on what the BEST mashed potatoes are, because its like asking what the best shade of blue is.

[hyperfixated-gvf]

Sweet and Spicy

On the fourth day of Tropemas, hyperfixated-gvf gave to me:

A sweet (buh-dum, chsshh) little fluffy fic about baking with fiance!Danny!

Christmas Song Pairing: “Christmas Cookies" by George Strait

Trope: Baking Cookies

~~~

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Reader

Warnings: None!

Words: 951

~~~

“Tell me again why we’re making three different kinds of cookies?” Danny said, hands somehow goopy with batter.

You stared at your fiance, brows furrowed as you tried to figure out how he’d gotten into his little situation in the five minutes you’d been turned around adjusting the chocolate chip cookies in the oven and transferring the finished batch to rest with the sugar ones on a cooling rack. “Did you…try to mix it with your hands? Daniel Wagner, please don’t tell me tried to mix my homemade gingerbread with your hands.”

Danny pursed his lips and shifted his eyes away from yours. “...I definitely did not try to mix it with my hands,” he said, lie evident in his voice. 

“Oh honey,” you sighed, shaking your head at the mess. “You’ve been spending too much time with the ‘no impulse control’ Kiszkas.”

“It’s my job,” Danny sighed dramatically. “We balance each other out.”

You scoffed, checking the timer and then making your way around the island counter to where Danny was. He was blissfully unguarded; big mistake. “Not anymore, it seems,” you hummed, innocently wrapping your arms around Danny’s midsection, wonderfully muscled with just the right amount of padding. 

Talk about perfection.

“Hi, love,” he hummed, continuing his attempt at kneading the gingerbread batter into a less-lumpy mess. “Sorry about your batter.”

You didn’t acknowledge his apology – the cookies could be saved, you thought, and you had other things on your mind. “Danny, do you love me?”

His attention strayed from the cookies, and you could practically hear the one arched brow when he said, “Yeaahhh…why do you ask?”

Aha. He was catching on.

“I just wanted to make sure the wedding would still be on. You know, in case I decided to… take advantage of your helpless state,” you cackled quickly, digging your fingertips up and down his sides, where he was the most ticklish. 

“Ah! Ah, shit, no– stop it!” he yelped, fighting against your weight as you pushed him into the edge of the counter to keep him there and trying to squirm away from you. But he was still bigger than you, and still stronger, so after a couple of seconds frantically trying to find a towel to wipe his batter-hands on, said, “I love you, Y/N, but you brought this on yourself!

You were a little too focused on your attack to register his words in time, so there was no saving yourself when Danny snapped around and put his sloppy molasses hands on your cheeks, pushing you away gently just as you reeled back yourself. Your mouth hung open and you let out a deep gasp, slowly bringing one finger to swipe through the goo. “Daniel Robert Wagner,” you said slowly, deliberately. “You are dead meat when I get this off my face.”

“You started it!” Danny exclaimed, rushing to the sink first to clean his hands in competition with you.

You stomped up right after him, quickly cupping water in your hands and wiping what you could off. “Yeah, and I’m gonna finish it, too. Oh god,” you bemoaned, feeling the oil stick to your face, “I’m gonna have a face full of acne for our Christmas card pictures. Danny!”

You heard him lope up the stairs. Coward. Probably going to hide somewhere to escape your wrath. But before you finished wiping your face dry, his footsteps came again, back to the first floor. He came around the corner holding your face wash, a slightly guilty look on his face. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t even think about that.”

It wasn’t as if you were actually angry; there were always consequences for tickling. And if Danny didn’t have the impulse control not to mix the batter with his hands, then you were quite foolish to believe that he wouldn’t use them as weapons, as well. He hadn’t been in a helpless state – he’d been in a protected one, and that was on you for not seeing.

So, you sighed and took the wash, catching his wrist as you did, and pressed a small kiss to his hand to show him that you weren’t angry. “It’s okay. The wedding is still on, I guess.”

“Whew!” Danny said with a big smile, swiping his hand across his forehead “What a relief. I can’t believe I almost wasted the one good thing I have in my life.” His dramatics were punctuated by the return of the back of his hand slapping to his forehead once again, this time paired with a woeful expression on his face.

“Yeah…definitely too much time around the Kiszkas,” you teased, poking him in the stomach before turning around to wash your face again. 

Danny wrapped his arms around you, kissing the back of your neck before you bent down to the stream of water. You loved that he was so attentive, and he always made you feel warm and gooey inside, just like a big cookie yourself.

“At least I learned not to mix cookie dough with my hands,” he mused out loud. You hoped he didn’t expect an answer, because the wash was just beginning to foam on your face when he spoke and the timer for the next batch of cookies went off – a small, insistent beeping ringing through the kitchen. “We can always buy the little gingerbread house kits. Or the molasses cookies my parents used to buy! Those were fantastic.” 

And ringing. And ringing.

“Dghsndcookwnr,” you said through a faceful of soap. 

Danny put his hand on your lower back. “Huh?”

With just enough water to wipe your mouth, you kicked him lightly with a small laugh. Attentive to you, perhaps. “Danny, the cookies!”

“Oh!”

~~~

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[gaybananabread]

13. Sneak Attack Amity attempts to get her siblings back for their tickling cheer ups to her but in the end gets easily overpowered.

TickleTober Day 13 - Sneak Attack

Is it just me, or have I written pretty much the same scenario three times now? Hopefully there’s been improvement between them (>m<). Busted this thing out the night before I left town, so I’m sorry for any grammatical errors. I’m kinda straying away from TOH, so I might be taking it off my list. Still, thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Amity

Lers: Emira, Edric

Summary: Amity tries once again to get her siblings back for their tickly attacks. The twins catch on, quickly putting a stop to her plan with one of their own.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

Amity was sitting at her work desk, tapping a pencil against her blank homework. She really didn’t feel like writing the essay, her mind wandering elsewhere. She had a good week to work on it, plenty of time to do it.

The purple-haired witchling’s thoughts drifted, various topics coming and going. It was fun to just zone out and think for a bit. Fun…a distant memory resurfaced, one from a good few months ago. Her siblings were messing with her and, once again, reduced her to a giggly puddle. Come to think of it, she never did get them back…

The distant look on her face slowly became a smirk, a plan formulating in her mind. The twins were sneaky, but they couldn’t win every time. It was her turn to finally get some well-deserved vengeance.

…

Amity set the abomination trap, checking to make sure that everything was in place. Her plan was foolproof. She would lure Emira in, call the abomination on her, and finally get her revenge. Edric would have to wait, he was doing his own homework anyways. 

“Em! I need some help here!” As planned, her sister ran into the room to see what was wrong. When Emira saw the small yet shit-eating grin on her sibling’s face, she knew something was up. Best to play along with it, see if she can turn the tables. 

Emira walked closer to her sister, stopping just a few feet away. “What’s up, mittens?” Amity sighed, biting the inside of her cheek. Just a bit closer…

“Just…wanted your opinion on something. Can you come over here?” If she hadn’t already known, that would have told her something was up. Taking a look around, she saw a bit of abomination goo on the carpet. So that’s what her plan was… Em could work with that. 

She walked up to her sister, shoving her back at the last second. Emira wasn’t as good with abominations as her sister, but catching Amity off guard helped her get the jump on the younger witch. She activated the abomination trap, using it on the one who planted it. “Sneak attack!”

Amity yelped, feeling her trap being used against her. She was so close! Before she had a chance to protest, she felt fingers dancing across her belly. “E-EHEMIRAHA! COHOME ON, NOHOHOT AHAGAIN!” 

Oh, it was too perfect. Amity had yet to figure out that there was no besting the twins. Even if it was just one of them. Speaking of which…

“Who’s wrecking Amity, and why wasn’t I invited?” Edric came down the stairs from his room, a smug grin on his face. He knew exactly what was going on, and planned to get his turn. 

Emira waved him over, drilling into Amity’s belly button and making her squeal. “You’re a little late, doofus. Here, help me with her pits. She’s too wild to get all by my lonesome.” Ugh, that stupid voice… Every time they teased her, each twin would use this cocky, smug tone to drive her nuts. “DOHON’T YOUHU *DAHAHARE*!”

That got a snort out of the older teen. Her threat was more adorable than anything, with all the laughter. “Sorry mittens. Twin Law, gotta help if she asks.”

Those evil little- “GYAAA! NOHOHOHO!” Amity thrashed in the goopy restraints, any and all thoughts of insults being drowned out by ticklish agony. Both her worst spots being attacked at the same time was awful enough; then the teasing started.

“Aww, poor mittens. You’d think she would’ve learned by now~ There’s no getting payback on us.” Emira’s nails paired with Edric’s gentle squeezes and pokes were sending her into a tickly tizzy. She regretted making her plan so “foolproof” now that she was stuck in it. Not only was it proof that her plan was not as solid as she would’ve liked; it also kept her firmly in place and at the mercy of her evil siblings. 

A snort interrupted her laughter, Ed’s fingers nailing the center of her underarms as Em drilled her nails into her belly button. It was an extremely unfair combo. “NYAHOHOHO! GUHUHUYS!” 

Edric actually felt a bit bad. They had wrecked her a good few times, constantly denying her any retribution. “Do we have to be so mean, Em? She kinda does deserve to get us back, even if it’ll never happen.” He turned his eyes back to Amity, chuckling. “ A+ idea on your plan, by the way. Execution…needs some work.”

She was too lost in laughter to care. Ed finally gave into his less-cruel thoughts, moving his fingers up to her neck. Amity’s laughter eased up a bit, though squeaks and occasional snorts were added to the mix. “Pl- snort pleHEHEASE! IHIT’S- thihis isn’t fahahahahair!”

Emira wanted to continue the evil attack, but Edric gave her the “c’mon” look. Sighing, she switched to rib-pokes. “You’re lucky Ed’s gone soft. I would’ve been fine making you squeal, little sis~”

“Youhuhuhu *squeak* you bohoth suhuck!” Amity’s battery was already pretty drained from their initial attack. Em had no reason to be so cruel, other than her own entertainment. Maybe it was the big sister instinct to torture their little siblings. She honestly couldn’t tell you; all she knew is that it sucked to be on the receiving end. 

The rib pokes and neck tickles weren’t half as bad as their previous tickle-hell-combo, but it was still sending those annoying butterflies into her stomach. Being tickled by her siblings was fun, to an extent. They had reached that extent. “Cohohome ohon! snort Plehehease?” 

Okay, time to be the merciful brother… Edric pulled his hands away from her neck, backing up to admire their work. Once again, they’d reduced their sister to a blushy, giggling mess. He knew Em would take some convincing to quit, though. Her and her ler moods…

“Em, c’mon, don’t kill her. She’s had more than enough.” When she rolled her eyes and ignored him, he grabbed her by the sides, squeezing as he dragged his twin away from their exhausted sibling. Emira, not expecting the sudden jolts to her sides, practically squawked, whipping around and batting his hands. Her focus on the abomination restrains wavered, the purple sludge melting back into the trap box and releasing their youngest sibling. “Uhuhugh…th-thahanks Ed…”

Emira’s cheeks were red, though not nearly as much as her sister’s. The older teen scoffed, jabbing her brother in the ribs before turning back to Amity. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did take things a smidge too far. BUT- I’m all done now. Soooo… Blight siblings cuddle pile?”

One though simultaneously crossed both Edric and Amity’s minds in that moment: seriously? She had just gotten done wrecking Amity’s shit, and she immediately wanted a cuddle pile? Still, some cuddly aftercare would be nice… Screw it.

“F-fihine. I get to pihick the movie, thohough.” Em could live with that. Sure, Amity only ever picked cheesy RomComs, but it wasn’t horrible. At least it wasn’t one of Ed’s gruesome slashers… Even she had her limits. “Okay, that’s cool. Ed, burrito-ify mittens and meet me on the couch.”

And turn her to a burrito he did. Edric grabbed one of the fluffier blankets from the nearby chair, wrapping his younger sister up and carrying her to the couch. Amity huffed, but didn’t protest the movement. She loved the attention, as silly as it was. 

Tossing her on the couch, Ed sat down and tugged Emira over to them. Pretty soon, all three Blight siblings were curled into each other, the TV ready for some cheesy-movie action. Amity had, predictably, chosen a romantic comedy about two witches in love, each a coven head. The plot was okay, but some of the corny scenarios made Edric cringe and Emira fake-gag. Amity was eating it up, though, so it was kinda worth it.

The trio continued to relax together, winding down from their chaotic day. Eventually, they passed out, cheesy RomCom number three still playing in the background. Their father entered the home about an hour later, a soft smile forming at the sight. He definitely didn’t take a picture for his private Penstagram account. These kids…

[the-boiling-bisles]

Thoughts on the collector following WAD (this is a long one buckle up)

I will talk about the finale as a whole later (it was great fyi I loved it), but right now something that has been bugging me for a while \that has finally just become impossible for me to ignore about this show is that I really don't like the collector.

Maybe I'll get a ton of shit for this, but whenever he got his physical form in Kings Tide, I just couldn't see the point of introducing such an important character into the story the way they were three episodes before the show was over.

The collector also had a very large inconsistency in characterization between the "shadow" and physical version of himself, the former being more demeaning and more rooted in chaos, while the latter was more akin to a young innocent child. This confliction made him feel even less enthralling as a character, it made him just feel like a prop to move the plot forward.

This was ever more apparent in the finale too.

I know considering the circumstances, the finale had to be rushed, there was no way to get around that. But honestly the collector just felt so pointless to the story that after the finale ended I wished that he was never even in the story to being with. For a character this big with so much lore potential to only have under a minute of screen time devoted to exploring said lore as it related to overarching story was super disappointing.

With that said here's what I think what could've been done WITHOUT the collector ever having been introduced to the story:

-Belos is the ONLY villain, he is the cause for all of the problems in the specials, and time that would've been spend with the collector and king is spent on Belos' past and more information on the isles themselves

-The day of unity in King's tide would be stopped by Eda while the circle of coven heads which stops the spell in the middle of it, people are still weakened so that is an issue, Belos would be goopy from an attack from a different major character, still falls on Hunter's shoulder and is stuck in the human realm [cue ttt]

-Everyone returns to the BI following ttt, people are not hiding from the collector but rather are too weak to be able to do anything too grueling (Hunter is not affected by this as he does not have a bile sack). Belos still tries to find a body to possess

-School events are the same, but no more of the kikimora/boscha stuff is shortened. The separation with Camila+Luz, Amity+Matt, and Guz+Hunter+Willow remains the same as well the interactions.

-Meanwhile King is having some sort of Titan awakening (getting wings or a new type of power something like that), which is an adventure on his own, he is trying to find Eda and Luz as he experiences this. Eda isn't weakened by the spell since her arm literally got ripped off so she's busy trying to find a way to heal everyone and help fix the isles (can be related to the students) her and King meet up at some point and vow to find Luz

-Belos actually possesses one of the Caleb clones (I'm so PISSED he didn't do that there was so much potential there) and he trudges his way back to the castle because he's already decided to possess the titan itself (in a realization that because everyone is weakened obviously no one will fight back)

-Eda takes notice of him climbing his way into the titan and follows him distantly in Harpy form

-The gang has reunited at this point inside the titan itself like in the actual episode (just not broken), and so they are perfectly placed to be able to fight Belos head on, Ftf would end with the gang's reunited in the skull hearing a rumble underneath their feet as Belos takes over the body after besting Eda and making it to the heart

-Now it's time for the finale, and instead of the entire group expect for Luz immediately being thrown to the side, they actually get their time to shine in a fight to try and get Belos off the heart. We get cool animation, it's great, until Camila is about the get struck by Belos, we get Luz sacrificing herself but with more meaning to it, and the gang decides they need to retreat before anyone else gets hurt

-Everyone mourns Luz, and then Eda takes notice, which is when Eda meets Camila, and they have a heart to heart over Luz. Queue a different version of the scene where the gang decides to use glyphs instead of their tired magic, but with more time

-We have a scene of Luz meeting the titan like usual, they speak and instead of collector lore we hear about how kind to the isles Luz was and how great she was to King, she's brought back to life etc etc

-Luz appears in front of the gang in her titan form, and she goes with just Eda and King to defeat Belos, basically the same as the original scene. on the split side the rest of the gang is working to keep the people of the isles from getting hurt while the titan is moving using glyphs

-Luz saves the day and then just like the actual episode Philip shows up one last time, but with the whole gang (including Camila). Instead of him immediately dying, Luz and the others take the time to ask questions, which he answers as he is threatened. From this we could get more wittebane brother lore+flashbacks, a confirmation on evelyn being a clawthorne, and even a petty huntlow scene. THEN the rain comes and he dies while everyone watches

-After that they somehow find a way to help the people on the isles and then everyone meets again (raeda kiss of course we were robbed in actual wad)

-This is more general but I think with what time was used in the previous episodes with the collector could've been focused on Belos' glyph knowledge instead

-After that it's about the same, but we have more time for the timeskip so they can take more time with it.

Wow this ended up being way longer than I thought but yeah I really do think the show would've been a little better without the collector. I didn't mean to rewrite all of s3 but oh well I guess.

[yw4thevenom]

havent worked there in half a year heres why lol

one of the assistant managers (who i thought was cool at first cuz he sold me weed) ended up being a pedophile and grooming a 17 year old girl i worked with

i worked with the both of them during their first shift together after the gm found out

he was literally screaming at her the entire shift saying weird shit and like guilt tripping her and shit like brotha EUGHH yall shoulda heard it

gm hired an entire staff of 16-17 year old girls and wondered why availability is so shit

literally when i quit there was only three adults working there. two of which were assistant managers and were literally working 24/7777 (shoutout to shannon and caleb)

mean, fake ass bitches who thought they could treat me like im fucking weird cuz i didnt go to the same school as them

my gm hiring me when i was 15 and not realizing i was working over the legal limit (primarily not being given breaks which like whatever) and then proceeding to blame me, the 15 year old

had to train a new girl the day i found out my cat died

later when telling an assistant manager about said cat dying, he goes "oh damn, f in the chat" and proceeds to tell everyone working to say "f in the chat" for my dead cat except they didnt know it was for my dead cat so all of my disinterested coworkers who thought i was weird just said "f in the chat" in the most monotone, soul crushing voice

worked their for almost an entire year, only spent one day on anything other than pizza table (hell) because apparently i was the only one competent enough to make a pizza. which is entirely untrue, but hoes were too lazy to actually train their employees.

regional manager or whatever the fuck she was supposed to be (miserable bitch who started in fast food and somehow climbed to corporate and never got another job ever) screamed in my face during business hours because i wasnt using the topping cups and decided she disliked me for the rest of my time there and would constantly schedule me on days i was unavailable for (mind u this happened within my first two weeks)

cheese/ham/green peppers CONSTANTLY going bad ESPECIALLY the ham (i have a video of it, literally slimy and goopy and bubbly and evil) and we still put that shit on ur pizzer

oh also remember the creep from the first point? yeah well he continued to be best buds with our gm until one day he had like a psychotic break and followed our gm to his home and tried to attack him

(bonus)i still bought weed off him for a bit after he was fired until he tried to punk me out for a 20 dollar front. typically, i would say fair is fair, but turns out this hoe has 300-500 dollar tabs for grown ass men but he thinks he can threaten a teenager over 20 dollars

oh, did i mention they hired me on the spot?

lol so thats why you should never work at my specific little ceasers

never get a job at little ceasers

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Can I request a Spamton X F!Reader where Spamton has a bake sale in his dumpster selling moldy cupcakes and such, so the reader teaches him how to bake cupcakes?-Art anon

"YOU! Light n eR! HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE MY [First Customer] OF THE DAY?!! YOU MUST BE DYING OF STARVATION! TRY MY SPECIL [Byte-Sized Cupcake] NOW! TAKES ONLY EIGHT BITES TO FINISH AND IMPROVES YOUR [Internet Speed]! [Side Effects Include Nausea and Loss of Appetite]."

"Oh goodie, another vendor." You strapped your weapon to your back as you looked at the poorly-made booth, which surrounded the dumpster. A banner hanged loosely above it, reading "SPAMTON'S B@KE S@LE" with a picture of Spamton--ripped off of one of the old posters around the city and plastered onto it.

You've visited bake sales in the Card Dark World. Simple, but clean and organized as opposed to this incredibly sketchy booth. The metal scraps and poles used were rusted and looked very unstable.

You accepted the free cupcake anyway and gazed at it for a moment. It was tiny, fitting between your thumb and index finger, covered in goopy blue frosting with a WIFI symbol topping it, which was....covered in molds.

Any sane person would immediately throw it away.

But you didn't wanna be rude since he did give it to you for free and you were apparently his first customer.

So you sucked it up and took a bite.

At first it wasn't too bad...until the eighth bite.

*Bad choice. Your HP was halved!

'Ouch..I don't think I'm gonna recover from that for a while..' You grunted as you held your stomach for a moment, waiting for the discomfort to pass.

"OH I'M SORRY YOU'RE NOT [Customer Satisfaction Guaranteed], LITTLE SPONGE!" Spamton observed. "AS AN APOLOGY FOR YOUR [Unpleasant Experience], CAN I INTEREST YOU IN A BURNED CD BAGEL INSTEAD? BETTER THAN THE CRAP THOSE [Three Stooges] ROBOTS SELL, THAT'S FOR SURE!!"

Sure enough, the "burned cd bagel" looked exactly like a regular cd bagel, but burnt around the edges. And when you hesitantly tried it you heard your favorite music genre in a distorted tone, with different pitches and static overlay.

*All your HP was restored

'Thank god.'

"Okay...that one was better."

"GREAT!! THAT'LL BE $264627563 KROMER!"

"....are you shitting me? You gave them away for free."

"AH, NO I DIDN'T!" Spamton cheekily wagged his finger at you with a much wider grin. "I NEVER NAMED THE PRICE! YOU JUST TOOK 'EM WITHOUT QUESTIONING ME! WHATDYA THINK THIS IS?! A [Free Sample Shop] DOWN THE STREET?!"

You probably should've known better than to blindly trust this guy to give away free food. Hell, "spam" was in his name. That should've been an obvious red flag. Now you were stuck wondering how on earth you could repay him...you don't think it's physically possible to carry that much money anyway.

Though as you looked at his booth, and the way he was dressed in such messy clothes and had splotches of dirt all over his porcelain face, you realized he probably wasn't doing this with malicious intent.

He was struggling. And considering the old posters of his face, you deduced that he was popular and successful at one time and..for whatever reason his life went downhill, leading to him selling unwanted garbage and ripoffs of actual edible food.

This was desperation.

But as you thought of his food, you remembered your hobby as a baker back in the Light World. You accidentally entered this Dark World when you visited the Librarby to look for new cookbooks, and figured out how this place worked pretty fast with battles and such.

So...maybe there's another way you can repay him.

"You're right, I shouldn't have assumed that. But what if...I made a deal with you?"

Spamton's eyes seemed to bug out as he sprang up, gripping the dumpster's edge with eagerness. "A DEAL?? WHATDYA HAVE IN MIND?"

"I'm a baker in my free time so..how about I repay you by showing you how to bake?"

"............"

"Uh..I mean your food is impressive presentation-wise. I can see the appeal. But I can help you improve their quality and taste."

"LISTEN, I'M A SALESMAN, NOT A [Betty Crocker] WANNABE." He scoffed with a slight frown. "NOW WHAT'S YOUR PREFERRED [Method Of Payment]? CASH? CARD? CHECK? [Hyperlink Blocked]? DEBIT? CRED-"

"I can help you sell them to customers better. That's the point." You clarified, hoping he'd understand.

"....WELL WHY DIDN'T YA SAY SO?!!" He laughed after a brief pause. "I'LL TAKE THE DEAL! SINCE YOU'RE SUCH A [Charming Ladies Near You], YOUR DEBT WILL BE FORGIVEN-!"

But as Spamton tried jumping out of the dumpster, he accidentally hit his head on the sign. This set off a chain reaction that ended with the entire booth crashing down on top of him.

"...ow.."

"Oh jeez! Are you okay?" You blurted out despite knowing the obvious answer, removing the rubble to find the poor robotic puppet trapped underneath. You took off the poster that covered his face, seeing his glasses go dark.

"I'm no construction worker but..I'll help you make your booth look more presentable, too." Picking him up, you gently lifted him out of the dumpster and set him on the ground.

The color returned to his glasses as he smiled up at you, dusting off his suit. "THANKS, LIGHT ner!"

You just returned the smile and set off for your temporary home in this world, with Spamton following closely behind.

But in the end, even with the improved recipe for byte-sized cupcakes (and the now reasonable prices), he refused to relocate his shop to any busy parts of the city. He preferred to stay in the trash zone or in hidden alleys away from the people. Only a few Maus purchased his desserts, and they complained about the lack of cheese ingredients.

You thought he needed help working his way up; that's why you agreed to help him to begin with. So to see him stay at the same place where you first met him made you feel like he scammed you again.

But when you questioned him, he admitted to scamming you...for your kindness rather than money.

He went on to explain how you're the only Lightner to give him a chance, and he latched onto you, wanting to spend quality time with you. He enjoyed learning to bake and building a new booth with you even though he didn't care much about succeeding at his bake sales.

After that, well..you couldn't be mad at him anymore.

Why should you be? You got a new friend out of this experience and finally got to teach someone about your passion for baking.

It's a win-win.

[itssuppertim3]

How would the husbands react if the LDB wanted to introduce them to their parents?

Skyrim Husbandos Meeting the Folks:

Just to clarify! Usually all of my fics are written with a female reader unless requested otherwise! I apologize if you meant for it to be a gender neutral headcanon ;-;

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

Ulfric Stormcloak: Preps his hair a few too many times. You're the Dragonborn. Such a gorgeous and powerful woman must have parents kin to deities! He'll have to make sure the meeting goes without a single flaw if he wishes to impress them.

He'll be even more anxious if they're supporters of the Empire. Gods, they'll despise him! You know that dinner scene in Shrek 2? That's pretty much how he'll expect it to go. But don't worry. In reality, he learns that your parents happily accept him as their son-to-be. (Forgive him if he gets political)

Veezara: He's a bit surprised by your invitation. If anything, he didn't expect you to even be in contact with your family due to your, ahem, unflattering occupation. Nevertheless, he feels more than honored to meet them.

His outfit choice will be his usual Brotherhood armor, to which you hastily advice him to think a bit longer on the matter. The next issue will be whether or not he should strap a dagger in his boot. "Just in case," he says. Veezara is actually very charismatic with your parents, despite the fact that he's never really had any. But soon enough, he'll come to treasue them as if they were.

Argis the Bulwark: Gods above, he'll love your folks more than a child loves sweetrolls. If the two of you aren't busy, he'll make a request to go visit them. It takes no time at all for your housecarl to immediately feel a part of the family, and he will brag frequently about you, as will they. In the end, the three of them are just sitting in front of the hearth, speaking nothing but pure love and adoration for you.

If Argis had to take a survey concerning his favorite things, it would most likely be structured like this:

My Favorite Things: -Y/n -Y/n's parents -everything Y/n likes -beef roast

Teldryn Sero: Much like Ulfric, he's also very nervous believe it or not. Teldryn is convinced that he's lacking in the career department, and he expects your parents to be underwhelmed once meeting him. The last thing he wants is to disappoint your family by admitting that he's just your average mercenary who used to drink himself sour in a sleezy inn every day.

He's a bit, I dare say, timid upon first greetings. For the most part, he'll let you do all of the talking until the conversation finally steers in his direction. He swears he can feel his heart rest at ease when your parents take a huge liking to his work. He deeply respects your father, and your father respects him all the same. Meanwhile, your mother is busy flashing you giddy looks as she whispers, "such a handsome man, he is!"

Ancano: He's very curious to say the least. He's well aware of the existence of your parents, for you speak about them quite often to him. In reality, he can't help but feel a bit of jealousy stirring in his stomach. To have people that cherish him deeply has been a secret desire of his since childhood.

Your parents are a bit astounded by your taste in men. They might exchange a few worried glances at first, murmuring to one another if letting a Thalmor into their home is the best choice. This causes Ancano to feel disheartened, but that doubt is quickly erased after sharing a chat with them. Your parents will then apologize for their caution, and surprisingly the three of them will get along very well! On your way back to the College, he'll have a pleased smile accenting his lips.

Miraak: He's skilled at maintaining his poker face, but the anticipation is definitely eminent. In his eyes, meeting your parents is the greatest privilege he's ever been bestowed. He already has a deeply profound and complex respect for you, and now he gets to meet the very people who birthed you?! He's screaming. Inwardly, I mean.

Disclosing the topic on how you both met will certainly be interesting. He'll make it elaborate, dramatic, and overall heart-wrenching. "It all started during the era of my rebellion against the Dragon Cult..." "Do you favor the color green, Mrs. L/n? I onced favored green. And then I spent 3000 years imprisoned in a green and goopy dimension, consumed by an endless abyss of vengeance and rage." "Y/n was so beautiful upon first laying my eyes on her. She was on the floor, of course. But even still, her eyes shimmered like jewels (probably from tears of agony :3)" "Ah yes... then she beat the daylights of me and commanded me to be her pissbaby servant. Such a strong and charming woman!"

Savos Aren: Will over apply cologne for the sake of masking his natural herbal scent. He knows well how much you love the way he smells, however he kind of wants to prevent your folks from realizing just how often he spends in his garden.

He's enchanted by your parents from the start, and he simply loves them to death. Savos doesn't categorize in the "young people" flock, so it's only safe to invision three seniors chatting away over a hot brew of tea and rocking chairs. He'll mainly discuss his role as Arch Mage, along with how amazingly talented you are as both apprentice and Dragonborn. Ah, but they obviously knew that already.

Romlyn Dreth: He isn't going to charm your parents, oh no. He's going to dazzle them. He'll wear his best clothing, have his hair combed back, conjure up the best manners known to man and mer, etcetera. And when they ask what he does for a living, Romlyn with flutter out a confident chuckle before saying, "I sell good mead for cheap."

In truth, he's never been so intrigued by your personal life. He didn't even know you had parents! Boy, was he ecstatic to hear that you wanted him to meet them. He was a tad intimidated by the thought, but he became comfortable rather quickly. Sometimes, it feels as if he literally stole them from you, for he speaks with them as if he's their most treasured son!

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

I'll be thinking about this all night, holy shit. Thanks for a awesome request, Anon!

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

team bonding

Taako dropped down onto the couch next to Lup and immediately draped his legs over her lap. He snorted to himself when he saw that one human on the team—Barney, he thought—look over at Lup with a soft, kinda goopy look. Gods above, the mission hadn’t even started and he couldn’t wait for it to be over.

The rest of the team slowly shuffled into the living area. The Institute had insisted on the seven of them all living in a shared apartment for the month leading up to the mission. Something about making sure the bond engine had enough fuel. Taako kinda thought that’s what the three months of training they’d been doing was for but hey, he wasn’t the expert on bond propulsion.

He scooted over slightly to give Lucretia a little more room to perch on the arm of the couch. Magnus sat on the floor, reclining slightly, and looking relaxed. Barclay (certainly that’s not his name, right? It’s been three months, he’s gotta get this. Barold? That’s not a name, Taako thought. It’s his name now, he decided after another moment of thought) leaned against the wall and glanced around the room. Merle commandeered the easy chair in the corner. Captain Davenport stood in front of the group, seemingly ready to give them all yet another rousing speech on the importance of their mission and of the importance of bonding during this time, yadda, yadda, yadda.

It wasn’t that Taako didn’t take the mission seriously, he just thought that everyone else seemed to take it a bit too seriously. He and Lup could probably power the bond engine by themselves, what good did it do making all of them live together for an extra month? Somehow he figured that being exposed to Merle’s snoring for an extra 30 days wouldn’t exactly improve group morale. It had barely been three days and Taako was ready to cast Mending on the dwarf’s entire respiratory system.

“Okay everyone, I think our flight simulation today went really well. I know we’re still hitting a few snags but I know that these next few weeks are really going to solidify us into a real team!” Davenport said, bouncing his gaze across the room. “Now, I think there are a couple more bonding exercises that have bee –“

Lup’s hand shoots into the air as she interrupts. “Hey, Dav, I wanted to circle back to what I asked in my interview.”

“Uh, you asked a lot of things in your interview, Lup. Remind me what you’re talking about?”

“Well, if we’re going to be a team, are we going to have some sick team uniforms?”

“Oh, she does raise a good point, Cap,” Taako said, lolling his head to give Davenport his full attention.

Davenport frowned and looked around. “There’s…there’s only seven of us,” he said slowly. “Do we really need uniforms?”

“I mean, nobody needs uniforms, they’re just cool,” Lup said, crossing her arms.

“What kinda uniforms are we talking? Because I think some matching coveralls might look cool,” Magnus said, suddenly seeming a little more interested in the conversation.

“Absolutely not, coveralls are far too utilitarian for me. What about some sick jackets? Like, ooh like some nice satin bomber jackets with ‘IPRE’ embroidered on the back?” Taako suggested, sitting up to engage in the conversation.

“Nah, what if we get capes? We’d look so badass with some capes!” Merle said, looking over at Magnus for support.

“I personally am vetoing capes, I think we’d all look ridiculous,” Davenport said, sitting down on the coffee table.

“Um, what about lab coats? Since we’re all scientists?”

“Speak for yourself, Barry!” Magnus said, shaking his head.

Barry, that’s it, Taako thought to himself.

“I think it’d be illegal if you put me in a lab coat,” Magnus continued, scooting closer to the circle that was forming.

“What about robes?”

Six heads swiveled to look at Lucretia, who blushed slightly at the sudden focus.

“Well, it feels very magicky but it’s also just kinda cool for those who either don’t do magic,” Lucretia motioned towards Magnus, who grinned. “Or those of us who don’t do it that often.”

“See, I like the idea of robes but I gotta say, I don’t know that I’d love driving in a robe. I feel like a jacket could be nice,” Davenport said with a shrug.

“Maybe a kind of military style jacket? Something with some cool pockets?” Merle offered.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Taako interrupted abruptly, putting a hand up. The other six looked at him quizzically. “Why can’t we just get both? Like I know that Captain and meathead might both feel a little better in jackets but I also know that me, Lup, and Bluejeans over there would rock some super spooky robes. But also, cha’boy wants options.”

Davenport seemed to mull this over for a moment. “We could probably find it in the budget…” he murmured aloud, the end of his tail twitching in thought. “Yeah, okay let’s try to get both!”

“What color?” Lucretia asked, a small smile forming on her face.

“Well, the official color palette of the Institute is ivory –“

“Oh definitely not any shade of white, please,” Barry interjected.

“Obsidian –“

“Boring!” Lup called out, laying back against the couch.

“Mauve, which I am personally opposed to. And crimson.”

“Crimson is mighty cool,” Taako relented, nodding at the rest of the group. Slowly, everyone began to nod.

Davenport smiled wide; he wasn’t prepared for this conversation but he had a feeling it’d have good consequences for the engine. “Alright, I’ll be sure to get us some red robes and jackets. Now, Barry, I think tonight’s your turn to cook?”

“Oh please gods no, I saw this man burn oatmeal this morning,” Lup blurted out. She sent Barry a meek, almost apologetic look. “No offense, dude.”

He shrugged and smiled, a gentle blush kissing his cheeks. “None taken.”

“Lup and I have a recipe for a real good soup. Everyone fall in, wash your hands, and get ready to cut a shit load of onions.” Taako stood up and waved everyone into the kitchen. Normally he hated other people in the kitchen with him, but he figured it probably couldn’t hurt to get that bond shit going while they all had time.

[13uswntimagines]

Leave the Cooking to Me (Sam x Rose x Reader)

Request: Sam x rose x reader. Where R was a part time chef so she’s always cooking their meals and the team is jealous of the good food

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog. We had way too much fun doing this one and spent way too much time looking up random food things. Gotta say that we are both a sucker for writing for Sam. 

Sam and Rose were lucky and they would tell that to anyone who would listen to them. You weren’t just the sweetest human being they had ever met, or the most thoughtful. You were all of those things, and you knew how to cook. Not just recreationally either. You were the full fledged winner of Top Chef season 19, and the Sous chef at one of the hottest restaurants in Washington D.C.

“How can you make such good food dressed like that?” Sam asked, leaning over the island and resting her chin on her hand. 

“What do you mean?” You raised your eyebrows at the woman, continuing to run your knife along the onion without looking at it. 

“Don’t all of your skills come from your chefs coat?” Rose asked, sliding up beside you, her hand trailing under the back of your shirt. You shivered at the cold hand touching your skin. 

“I’m not Iron Man. I can function without an outfit,” you said, rolling your eyes, as you grabbed an egg. You happened to like wearing an oversized pajama shirt and short-shorts while cooking. You never felt bad about spilling anything on them, since you didn’t exactly wear them in public. “Sam, since your hands aren’t literal icicles-” Rose stuck her tongue out at you playfully “- can you hold this and warm it up to room temperature while Rose helps me hold the pastry?” 

“Ohhh what kind of pastry? Why is that filling purple?” Rose squealed. You knew how much she loved when you baked for them (especially considering those croissants you made them for special occasions). She pulled the bowl closer to her, and scrunched her nose when she saw the contents. 

You may have had a good track record, but that color was crazy. 

“It’s Spanakopita, but we’re going to experiment just a little bit. If you don’t like it you have to eat it anyway,” You shrugged, rolling out the dough onto a cutting board, and positioning Rose’s hands right where you wanted them. 

“If you make it, we’re going to like it.” Sam snorted, and Rose raised her eyebrow at her. 

You bit you lip, wilting just slightly. “I just got inspired, cause the beats are going to look so good in the risotto for the Arancini,”

“If it’s anything like that curry you made last time you got inspired, I think we’ll be ok,” Sam said, kissing your neck with a grin while you worked. You squeaked a little and jumped, hip-checking her to keep her away from accidentally touching the food. 

“It’s just a shame Valentine’s day already happened,” Rose said, looking at the three bowls of filling in their various places on the counter or in the fridge, “Pink, red, and purple dishes would have made great themed appetizers for your restaurant!” 

You snorted and shook your head. “I wish, we could do anything this interesting.” The arancini, maybe. The other two would probably be avoided like the plague for fear of any garlic or other lingering spices. “People are too bougie to enjoy the simple things like strangely colored foods.” 

“Good thing we’re not!” Sam smiled broadly, stealing a piece of orange-colored pork from the bowl to your right. 

“Yeah, we get all the sass and none of the class,” Rose giggled, barely avoiding your slap at her hand as she also stole a piece of pork. 

Just then you heard singing from the couch. “We are family,” Sam stuffed the piece of pork in her mouth and jumped up to grab her phone from where it was wedged between the cushions. “I’ve got all my sisters and me.”

“Tha’s Kwsten,” She spoke through her mouthful then swallowed. Do you mind if I go take this?” 

“Go for it, we’re about to stick this stuff in the oven anyway,” You nodded, giggling when she tripped over a chair on her way to grab the phone. “Make sure you swallow before you answer,” 

“Took you long enough. What were you doing, trying to find your pants?” Kristie’s voice rang through your apartment the second Sam answered the call. You smiled when your girlfriend’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. 

“No, Y/n is cooking. She’s so good with her hands Kris, it’s not fair,”  Sam said shaking her head. 

Kristie snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at the woman. “I’m sure she is,” 

“Stop trying to turn everything I say into a euphemism.” Sam groaned, sending a glare at Rose who was cackling like a madwoman. 

“But you make it sooo easy,” Kristie teased, “I mean what was it you said last time, ‘she kneads aggressively?’”

“Bread, Kris. She was making bread. And you’re supposed to do-I mean knead it aggressively, that’s how gluten develops.” 

“Stop trying to explain it babe,” Rose sang, her voice bubbling with suppressed laughter.  

“You’re just making it worse,” You nodded along. 

“You know, I’m not this mean to you when Emily and Lindsey pull this shit with you. I was even sympathetic with the Sketchers thing,” Sam pouted. 

“We agreed to never mention that again,” Rose said menacingly, but Sam was distracted as you handed her a plate with the Spanakopita.

Sam’s pout melted off her face at the sight of the plate. “Ooo goodies. Thanks babe,” 

You kissed her cheek and waved to her sister on the phone before heading back to the kitchen to finish the next set. 

“What is that?” 

“Just course one of the amazing appetizers lunch my wonderful girlfriend is making for me.” Sam bit in and rolled her eyes at the taste, holding up the other half of the Spanakopita so she could see the gorgeous and delicious purple filling. 

“For both of you Sammy. Don’t leave Rosie out, that’s mean,” You called out, your tongue poking between your teeth as you stirred the pot on the stove. 

In the background of Kristie’s call, Sam could see other teammates gathering around the phone to see her food. She stood and walked back to the kitchen, turning the facetime camera around so they could see the two trays out of the oven and then you stirring at the stove. You waved your spoon but stayed focused. The rice was just at the point when it was most likely to burn and you needed to make sure the texture didn’t go from delicious to goopy. Risotto wasn’t for the faint of heart. 

“Look at how fluffy this Bao is!” Sam said, slowly tearing one of the dumplings in half in front of the camera. Sisterly torture went both ways- her sister may turn half of what Sam said into sex jokes, but Sam could rub the delicious food in Kristie’s face. 

“Why is it so orange?” Emily asked, piping in from behind the older Mewis sister. 

“Some awesome Indonesian spices that Y/n thought would be good,” Sam said, taking a huge bite out of the bun. 

“Tamarind and Turmeric in the mix,” you called out from behind her.

“It’s not fair that your girlfriend is a literal chef who enjoys cooking in the weekend,” Emily whined, followed shortly by a “shut up Sonnett” from Lindsey and a thump. 

“Experimenting apparently,” Rose said, mischievously. 

“Not helping dear. Anyway, what were you calling about Kris?” Sam said pointedly. 

“We just wanted to know what you eta for camp was?” Kristie asked. 

“Um, the flight leaves tomorrow at what time was it again Rose? 8 am?”

“Try 4:30 am Sam,” You rolled your eyes. It was going to suck, but you were going to make sure to pack some tasty overnight oats so no one was grumpy on the plane. 

“Ugh. That’s bullshit. Anyway, takeoff at god-awful early in the morning, and then we’ll see you when we land!” Sam said. She hung up the phone and moved back towards the counter. 

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll schedule the flight next time,” You leaned up to kiss her cheek. “Now how bout you help me roll some balls?” 

*****

“I don’t know what we did wrong this time?” Kelley said, poking the overly pale cinnamon rolls that had just come out of the oven. Then she turned the roll over to see a crisp black scorch on the base. “It looks like we took them out just in time though?”

“They’re pale on the top and burnt in the bottom,” Rose whined, tapping the middle of one of the rolls experimentally. 

“Kind of line you Rose,” Sam laughed, patting her shorter girlfriend on the back. 

“Haha, at least they’re not hockey pucks like the last batch,” Rose grumbled. 

How they had let their teammates talk them into this, she didn’t know. What she did know was that cooking with you was way more fun than doing it with this bunch. At least with you everything turned out tasty in the end. And if she accidentally messed something up you always knew how to fix it. 

“Stop that,” Kelley swatted Alex’s hand away from the bowl of icing. “That’s unsanitary. Let us drizzle it on the rolls first and then you can clean the bowl.” 

“But then what are we gonna do with this caramel you insisted I stir?” Emily asked, looking up from the pot in front of her. 

“It’s for the next batch. You put it in the bottom before you bake,” Sam answered, beginning to roll out the next set of cinnamon rolls. 

“And technically, we didn’t insist you do anything Sonnet. We mentioned our idea to make caramel for the cinnamon rolls and you jumped up and said “I volunteer as tribute”” Rose grumbled. “You didn’t even let us suggest a recipe.”

“Which considering the success of the other recipes you picked, might have been a good idea,” Emily said, frowning slightly at the bubbling mixture in front of her. She was stirring but the bubbles weren’t going away like they did with pasta. Maybe because it was thicker? She stirred faster to compensate.  

“Hey guys, what are you-... oh shit,” You raced over to the stove, nearly barreling into Emily as you grabbed the practically overflowing pot of molten sugar and moved it off the heat, praying you had gotten to it before it was too late. You really didn’t want to have to explain to the trainers why you and Emily had third-degree burns if the pot exploded. 

You spun towards the group of older players, glaring at them. “Who let the child do the most dangerous job?” 

“Dangerous?!?” Kelley and Rose sputtered. Sam just blinked at you

You shook your head and pinched the space between your eyes. “If it crystallizes and you don’t take it off the heat it can explode. You don’t stir sugar,”  

“Oh. Well. At least there’s still icing?” Sam grabbed one of the better rolls and gave it a hearty helping of icing before handing it to you.

“What did you use, because Alex is vegan and she’s been eating it?” You narrowed your eyes at the offered plate, glancing sideways at a set of very pale rolls and a set that were very burnt and flat. 

“Flaxseed and applesauce instead of eggs and oat milk instead of milk. And margarine instead of butter.” Kelley said, automatically. She and her fiance had been making vegan substitutes for a while now, and while they might not have been traditional cinnamon roll ingredients, she knew the measurements by heart, so that’s what they had used. 

You bit your lip and squinted your eyes as you reached out and swiped a bit of frosting from on top of the bun and put it into your mouth. 

You gulped when the salty substance hit your tongue, trying and failing to conceal your wince after the flavor. Your girlfriends were a lot of things, but apparently good cooks wasn’t on that list. “Hey, what container was the powdered sugar that you used for this in?”

“Um, this one?” Kelley said, sliding you a container. 

Your eyes widened at the blue-lidded container. You had been experimenting for a new dish at the restaurant and had gotten a hold of some micro powder salt flour for it. You thought it would give the new cracker-jack-themed desert a better taste, and help to balance out all the sugar from the Caramel ice cream. 

“That’s not sugar,” you said weakly. 

Alex dipped her finger into the bowl and tasted it, gagging. “It’s salty!”

Sam frowned down at the plate in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to do this, to begin with, but the team had insisted. Assured her they knew what they were doing and that you would love the surprise. Instead, Emily had almost burnt down your kitchen and everything was a mess. 

“Is none of it alright,” Rose asked softly from behind you, her lip jutting out. 

You scanned the kitchen, looking from the still ominously bubbling ooze on the stove, to the cinnamon rolls so undercooked you could catch salmonella from them to the icing, then finally to a glass on the counter. You grabbed it and took a large swig of vanilla oat milk. 

“Your milk tastes great!” you said enthusiastically, as the others started laughing. 

Sam and Rose just wilted further. You sighed, wrapping your arm around your taller girlfriend and holding your hand out to Rose. “It’s the thought that counts guys. And I love the thought,” 

“That’s what your parents tell you when you give them shitty presents so you don’t feel bad,” Rose grumbled, and Sam nodded. 

You sighed, unable to keep your lips from tipping up in a smile. It was just. It was so bad it was funny. “Maybe next time start with something a little easier? I’d love some scrambled eggs and toast!”

 Sam sighed. “You hate eggs,” 

You laughed again. “But I love you, even if you two can’t cook,” 

You leaned up to kiss under Sam’s chin and over to Rose’s cheek. You loved them and would remind them that their skills were on the field. They should leave the kitchen stuff to you. 

[queenofbaws]

Hey! May I request number 41 for Chris x Ash x Josh, please?

six(ish) sentence weekend ;P

“Know what I like most about s’mores? There’s no fuckin’ them up. It’s impossible. Literally impossible.” In the same way a judge might bang a gavel to signify the end of an especially intense court hearing, Josh slapped the top graham cracker onto his s’more, effectively cracking it clean down the middle. “Literally. Impossible,” he repeated, very nearly eating the whole thing in one bite.

Between them, the fire pit crackled and marshmallows toasted (a significantly quieter affair). Other than that, there was silence.

And then, when he simply couldn’t take it any longer, Chris spoke up. “The hell are you talking about, man?”

Oh, this had the makings of a debate - a stupid, pointless, shouty debate - so Ashley kept her lips zipped. For the time being, at least. She had to see who was drawing what lines in the sand before she threw her hat into the ring, after all. She was nothing if not diplomatic.

“The hell you mean, the hell I mean?” Josh asked through a mouthful of melted chocolate, his voice thick and goopy until he swallowed. “They’re nature’s perfect food.”

...okay, maybe she couldn’t stay out of it. “Nature,” Ashley repeated quietly. “Nature.”

“They are,” he continued, holding up the itty-bitty remaining sliver of his own, “Perfect. Un-fuck-up-able. Graham crackers? Boring but okay. Chocolate? Also boring on its own, most of the time, but preferable to veggies, right? Marshmallows? Delicious. Joyously so. Put all three of ‘em together?” He popped it into his mouth and made a point of crunching it between his molars as loudly as possible. “Perfect.”

“I-I-I’m not gonna sit here and argue with you on the deliciousness of the s’more. I’m simply not going to do that. My problem is how you keep saying you can’t fuck them up, when clearly - ”

“You can’t.”

“They are so easy to fuck up!”

“You’re a fool.”

“They’re the easiest thing to fuck up!”

“A damned fool.” Without moving any other part of his body, Josh swiveled his head towards Ashley, blinking once with slow derision. “You hearing this bullshit? You’re just gonna sit there and let your dumbass boyfriend shout at me like this? Me? Your better boyfriend?”

Her eyebrows crept upwards, as did the corners of her lips. “Oooh no. I’m not saying a word,” Ashley laughed, stabbing a couple of fat marshmallows onto her stick, holding it out over the fire. “Not. A. Word.”

“Traitor.”

Chris was undeterred. He just kept going, muttering some iteration of “Impossible to get right” as he struggled with his own marshmallows, trying to assemble a s’more with his roasting stick squeezed between his knees as he unwrapped more chocolate. It was a close call for a second there, him almost dropping the whole mess onto the porch, but if there was one time or place where Christopher Hartley managed to get his shit right, it was where snacks were involved. When finally he held his own s’more in his (very sticky) hand, he brandished it in Josh’s direction. “Have you ever eaten anything - anything! - that claims to be s’mores flavored?”

He sniffed once. “S’mores. Yeah. Next question.”

“No. No, don’t you start that shit. I mean...granola bars. I mean candy bars. I mean Pop Tarts. I mean...”

“Didn’t Starbucks have a - ”

“Yes! I’m talking frapps - thank you Ash.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m talking milkshakes. I’m - ”

Though it was a party foul of the highest order, Josh shoved his hand into the bag of marshmallows, grabbed a handful, and launched them halfheartedly at Chris’s face. “We get it. Jesus Christ, Cochise, I’m growing a beard over here! If you’re trying to make a point, God help me, I’m not seeing it. Now, if you’re just wanting to list all the foods you’ve eaten in your life, that’s another story, I’ll listen to that all day long. I’ll ask you use a sexier voice, maybe let me get a little more comfortable, but...”

To be fair, not a single one of the marshmallows would’ve hit Chris. Not a single one. He ducked all the same, though, leaning hard to one side like what he was dodging was knives and not puffed sugar particles. “What I’m saying...is that other than literal s’mores, s’mores like this precious gift I am currently holding in my ha - hey!”

Ashley shrugged as she yoinked said s’more from him, taking a bite of it as her other hand continued to turn her roasting stick. “You weren’t eating it, sooo...”

“You guys really suck at making me feel welcome, safe, and valid, you know that? You really, really do.”

“Should I ring up HR maybe? Lodge a complaint?” Josh had just enough time to pop his thumb and pinky finger out and bring them to his ear before Chris regained his train of thought.

“Anything other than a real s’more that claims to taste like a s’more does not, in fact, taste like a s’more. It is absolutely impossible. It has not happened once in the history of the world. Therefore, s’mores are fuck-up-able, and I’ll raise you this, sir - they are fuck-up-able to the highest degree!”

That time, there was no waiting before Josh turned Ashley’s way, leaning his elbow on the armrest of his fold-out lawn chair. “Maybe I should ring up HR and lodge a complaint, whaddya think?”

“I think your marshmallow’s on fire, dork.” When he frowned, she simply flicked her eyes towards the fire and he swore, all but flinging his burning marshmallow out of the fire. “I also think,” she added, still contently nibbling Chris’s s’more as she turned her own marshmallows in the fire, “I’m never making s’mores with you weirdos again.”

[fanficsandfluff]

The Wake-Up

Finally, I've crossed a fic idea off my daydream checklist! Enjoy!

Fandom: MCU, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, some Cass and AJ, a smidge of Sarah

Words: 2,010

Bucky hadn’t felt as well-rested as he had on Sarah’s couch, even despite being woken by her two boys. So, yes, maybe he did keep accepting offers to stay over. It helped his mental well-being, so what? He sought the rest and relaxation. Sam hadn’t even been there a few times, but it was still as welcome as ever. Sarah cooked great food. He brought her flowers the last time he slept over, and he loved the bright smile that sprung to her face.

“We need to clear a guest room all for you,” Sarah joked at the dinner table on one particular summer night.

“You can take Uncle Sam’s room when he’s not here!” Cass announced through a mouthful of grits.

Bucky grinned at all the jests and he knuckled Cass’s shoulder, “Oh, I’m sure Uncle Sam wouldn’t mind at all,” he always smiled whenever he heard ‘Uncle Sam’ being used to address the new Captain America. Brought a lot of nostalgia back, and even turned it into something positive.

But on the couch he remained, at least for the upcoming night.

Sam pulled up at 3 am, the whole house asleep. He had to get used to seeing Bucky on Sarah’s couch, but it was finally starting to become less surprising. As long as he was on the couch and not in Sarah’s bed, all things were fine by him. Sam tiptoed in after shedding his boots at the door, easing into the comfort brought to him just by being in the house. He adjusted the blanket by Bucky’s feet and pulled another corner over his bare arm, non-metal.

Sam smirked to himself. He always assumed Bucky possessed superhuman senses, so someone who decided to even step too close while he slept would be pulverized immediately. But no. The guy needed the sleep, he supposed. Bucky’s breathing pattern didn’t even change when Sam adjusted the blanket. Hmm… he could use this.

~~~

“Shhh, shhshh, hey guys,” Sam kissed his nephews on their foreheads when he woke them purposely later that morning. Dawn was just creeping over the bayou, shimmering the lights on the water.

“Wait, shh, you gotta stay quiet or you’ll ruin it,” Sam had his hand atop AJ’s head and he ruffled it around, making the older boy giggle.

“Ruin what?” Cass whispered.

“We’re gonna wake Bucky. The guy’s just always sleeping, isn’t he?”

Both boys shared identical grins, “Yeah, totally!” AJ slipped his glasses onto his face, Cass following suit.

And so the plot begun. Sam went to the bathroom with his nephews and gathered shaving cream after Cass had pulled a feather from his animal project from school. Sam explained what they’d be doing with these tools, since they’d never pulled this prank before (wow, Sam felt old).

AJ and Cass were practically vibrating with anticipation and giddiness. The trio snuck their way to the couch. Sam sprayed the shaving cream on Bucky’s metal hand since he knew how to not make the spray noise come out so loudly (and his human arm was tucked behind him on the couch so he couldn’t get to that one, okay? He didn’t go for the metal on purpose, he isn’t that cruel).

Sam pointed to Cass first as the three of them stood by Bucky’s head, hiding behind that edge of the couch, crouching. Cass stood and swiped the feather across Bucky’s forehead. No reaction. He gave it to AJ. AJ, more methodical, wiggled the feathered tip on the bridge of Bucky’s nose. Now he got his nose to scrunch, brow to furrow, but his arms stayed put. Sam next. He got the feather to move closer to Bucky’s nostrils.

“So close…” Cass whispered in the smallest voice, hands covering his mouth. AJ also put his own hand over Cass’s hands covering his mouth because of the comment.

Sam kept it up, even swiping around Bucky’s cheeks, when-- WHAM!

The boys both exclaimed, Cass jumping up and down excitedly while giggling. Sam laughed loudly, holding his stomach. The noise was a loud metal clang when metal arm connected with skull. It was hilarious.

Bucky shot up with a start, feeling his eyes covered in some kind of gook, and he practically gave himself a headache. He heard all the laughter and he sighed deeply.

“Gross…” he grumbled and wiped his eyes, not realizing his hand was the cause. He ended up smearing more shaving cream across his eyes.

“You got a little something…” Sam spoke, holding back more laughs. Anything to mess with Bucky was the highlight of Sam’s day.

Bucky got enough shaving cream off his face and wiped onto his pants to see again. He eyed the boys first, knowing he could scare them off quicker. He growled.

“Go go go!” AJ directed his younger brother, ushering him back towards the bedrooms, the two shoving each other and tripping over each other along the way.

Bucky’s eyes went to Sam immediately after.

Sam had to think quick. Run from a super soldier and inevitably get caught, or wake Sarah because there’s no way Bucky would do anything to him if Sarah was--- yeah, nope, not willing to face Sarah’s wrath either. Sam bolted out the front door, hearing the screen door clatter behind him. Not two seconds later he heard it clatter again, meaning Bucky was hot on his trail.

Sam ran through the yard, weaving between trees, feeling the dewy grass get kicked up under his bare feet.

Bucky threw himself at Sam when he had the shot and they both propelled forward, rolling in the grass for a few feet.

“Ow! Shit, Buck!” Sam exclaimed, groaning, feigning more pain than he was actually in.

Bucky was atop Sam, not falling for the act for a second. It took Sam a moment to look up and he burst out another laugh, unable to help himself. Bucky still had a white-painted face full of shaving cream, just now looking more smeared than goopy.

“You know you’re so dead and you’re still laughing? Where’d you get the balls…” Bucky tried to sound menacing, he really did.

“Nahah, no, you--” he cleared his throat, buying time so he could formulate a way out from under the Winter Soldier, “It’s good for your skin. Moisturizing. You look good.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes and his metal hand snapped to Sam’s when he tried to move, wrenching it up above his head. Sam was pinned. Now was the time he was getting nervous.

“It was all AJ and Cass, I just thought you should know.”

“Mmhm,” Bucky, man of few words, looked up and down Sam’s torso. He had him pinned. Now what to do. Bucky poked at Sam’s protruding rib. He did it again to the few above that one, making a little path of pokes.

Sam shifted under him, uncomfortable. His face looked much less jovial now. Annoyed. Good.

“Oh Sam, buddy, you never told me you were ticklish,” he drawled.

“I’m not--I mean, just stop. I’m sorry,” Sam apologized.

Bucky’s eyebrow actually raised. That was the whole fun of the game. Coaxing the apology. But of course Sam went and ruined that. Nice guy.

“For what?” Nice recovery, Barnes.

“For waking you up.”

Bucky allowed himself to quirk the corners of his lips, “Gotta be more specific than that,” and his one hand dug into the ribs on Sam’s right side. His fingers groped for the spaces in between and massaged his way in. Sam bucked and laughter was torn from his chest.

Sam was ticklish and only Sarah knew. Of course she knew, being the older sister. But dammit, he was never planning on Bucky Barnes figuring it out. And this was exactly why! The guy would be devastating!

“No! NohohoHO BUCKY!” Sam twisted side to side since that’s all the mobility he was allowed.

“What else are you sorry for? Here, I’ll give you the list,” as Bucky spoke, he had to raise his voice over Sam’s desperate giggles, hand switching to clawing at the other’s belly, “You woke me up with a prank. So there’s that. You lied and blamed AJ and Cass for something you 100% planned. You ran from the scene of the crime. Am I missing anything, Wilson?”

“Screhehehew you!” Sam got out before laughing louder as Bucky’s hand scratched at his armpit, “Stop! Stoppit, you fuhucking cyborg!”

“Oho! I’ll add that! Aaand, oh, and you lied to me about you not being ticklish. You said ‘I’m not,’” Bucky imitated Sam in a very stupid voice, “when clearly you are. Very. Very ticklish.”

Sam was pulling on his arms as much as he could without injuring himself. His veins popped, muscles straining. He was useless like this. Defenseless.

But he was laughing.

That was kind of nice.

Bucky contemplated letting go and allowing Sam to squirm. He liked having him at his mercy like this, though. Made him feel powerful… Hm.

Bucky kept Sam pinned with his vibranium appendage, and he wiped as much of the remaining shaving cream off his face as he could with his right hand.

Sam coughed as he sucked the humid morning air into his lungs. By now he didn’t know if the moistness he felt all along his back was from the dewy grass or from his own sweat.

“No, man, dohon’t,” he saw the absolute mischief painted on Bucky’s gleeful face and his raised shaving cream hand. Bucky planted his palm on the side of Sam’s face, chuckling to himself after the act.

“Aw, you-- you’re real gross, Barnes, you know that?” Sam spit out the imaginary shaving cream that got in his mouth.

“I think I’m just being fair,” Bucky pushed up Sam’s sleep shirt with his free elbow and he started tracing patterns with shaving cream along Sam’s belly. That got Cap giggling all over again.

“Buhuhucky, noho!”

“Keep giggling, Sam, it’s only gonna make me want to keep this up.”

Sam would swear up and down that that particular comment didn’t make him blush, but oh boy he felt his cheeks get warmer.

“I don’t g-gihiggle, asshole!”

“Oh, no?” Bucky switched to scratching at Sam’s taught tummy, the shaving cream making the experience extra slippery, causing Sam’s laughter to jump in pitch.

“I”m sorry!” Sam squeaked out before Bucky could even change tactics again.

Bucky chortled, “For…?”

“Everything! Eheverything you sahahaid!”

“Aww,” Bucky smiled. He pulled his metal arm back and just sat on Sam’s waist, still basking in the glow of winning like this.

Bucky leaned his head down closer to Sam’s, “I forgive you,” he said curtly. He watched the last few huffs and breaths of light laughs leave Sam’s lips. He could get headbutted being this close to Sam’s own face. Or kissed. Wait--

Bucky climbed off of Sam, sitting beside him in the grass. He pulled up the bottom of his shirt and wiped the shaving cream fully off his face.

Sam jabbed Bucky’s abs when the shirt came up and the Winter Soldier twitched.

Sam smiled wide. Bucky, eyes squinted at first, soon relaxed his face and allowed himself to smile back.

“Don’t do that again,” Bucky pointed a vibranium finger at Sam.

“Which part?”

“All of it.”

“You made Cass and AJ very happy.”

“Yeah, well…. They don’t need to prank me to be happy.”

“Yeah they did. Being mischievous. It’s all part of being little kids,” Sam sat up, head tilted Bucky’s way.

“Still.”

“Okay, I was trying to be thankful, jerk. Thanks for handling it like a good sport.”

Bucky looked over at Sam and he held his gaze for a few seconds. Did Sam like what just happened? Or was that just praise for him for not ripping Sam’s nephews limb from limb? Restraint?

“Oof, that brain malfunctions a whole lot, doesn’t it?” Sam was right back to teasing, “Code red!”

Bucky chuckled, head bowed. Sam, proud as ever to get that smile from the Winter Soldier, nudged him.

“You’re so stupid,” was all Bucky could think of saying. Sam laughed.

[kaissauce]

okay, phucker, do it

ok let's do this @rolli-zolli @ninikins

Horrortale: technically an alternate timeline instead of au. after a neutral run where undyne's queen the core malfunctions and food becomes scarce and people resort to eating humans because sans suggested it. Aliza is the protag. latest thing that happened in the ongoing comic was Aliza agreeing to go with Papyrus to solve his last puzzle. as for the appearance of sans he has a HUGE hole on his head and a red eye. he got the hole from undyne when she got his magic eye which was going to be used to power the core. sans didnt die tho and killed the guards holding him down and just took whatever eye was on the ground and used it as a replacement for his magic eye that's powering the core. i quote first words he said after putting the eye in his socket "who the fuck took my phone?". then the magic eye went apeshit and broke the core again. oh and also he made alphys braindead by quite literally scrambling her brain. yeah this au is rough sans hasn't really eaten anything since the core was destroyed since he decided not to eat any humans.

Dusttale: i think this was originally a korean au? basic rundown: too many genocide runs sans goes apeshit and tries to get his Lv up by killing monsters himself man went fuckin insane kills his brother blah blah blah edgy angsty au the ghost of papyrus haunts him n stuff. sans literally just looks the same except he has his hood on and sometimes artists draw him with papyrus's scarf. the cool artists draw him with his hood on and has the hood completely cover his face so u can only see his glowing pupils. although people call him dust sans he's actually named murder sans

Killer: so frickin similar to dusttale except sans goes apeshit because of the human being like "join me lmao". three different outcomes come from this. i think it was 1 sans joins human 2 sans joins human kills human later on 3 kills human or something. friends with color sans who is basically his impulse control. pretty sure his soul's fucked up and Color sans tries to make his soul un-fucked but Nightmare comes in and fucks up the progress. he has white shorts, his eye sockets are constantly pitch black and leaking tar or something also has a weird target thingy on his chest. OH YEAH ALSO HE HAS BEEF WITH UNDERSWAP SANS ALMOST FORGOT. basically swap sans tried to make killer good and then they had a fight, swap sans lost and was on the verge of dying thankfully swap papyrus was able to save him in time i think

Dreamtale: Dream isn't in the drawing but his brother, Nightmare is. Sooo he used to not look all goooy and have tentacles n stuff but then he ate a couple hundred apples and yeah. he's six years old apparently. Nightmare and Dream are supposed to be guardians of a tree that has 500 golden apples and 500 black n goopy apples. the golden aples are positive and the goop ones are negative. you're not supposed to eat either of them cus bad shit happens. Dream and Nightmare live in a village and for whatever reason they're all dicks to Nightmare because ooughh he's the guardian of negativity that's not baller. he also goes apeshit (do u see a pattern here) and eats a goopy apple n then becomes the goop man he is today. he fuckin eats 999 apples jesus christ. and the last one is eaten by Dream because if u eat all 1000 apples u become unstoppable and immortal. so that would be a bad thing if nightmare got the last one. wop wop wop these dude aren't sanses they only have the body of one if that makes sanse.

Error: manlet. he's literally an error and that's why he's like that. also he's technically not a sans now, the redesign for him was so that he could be in the creator's webcomic named Lucidia. Error sans, aka the destroyer of aus, finds aus to be mistakes so he tries to get rid of them. his process of doing this is simple: get the human soul to the void so that they can't reset, destroy the au. he primarily attacks using his strings which can wrap around one's soul and control them. he like some aus like outertale because of how open and empty it is. he likes to be alone and has haphephobia. if u touch him he'll glitch out and possibly crash. he crashes whenever gets overwhelmed. said crashing causes him to shut down and reboot and he's powerless while doing so. he's actually pretty easy to beat if you know how to push his buttons the right way. in the og ask error blog made by his creator Loverofpiggies he kidnaps Swap sans who tries to help Error become a better person. this ends horribly as error leaves Swap sans in the void who then becomes an error aswell due to being alone in the void too long. Error actually regrets doing that to swap sans

Aftertale: OK FUN FACT THE SANS OF THIS AU, WHO'S NICKNAMED "Geno" IS ERROR. aftertale is a comic made by LoverofPiggies it's been SOOOO long since i last read it so i cant really give a good summary. but anyways Geno is trapped in the loading screen with the human and will die if he leaves the loading screen. eventually from being in the loading screen for too long after the events of aftertale he becomes Error.

OOF WOWIE THERE'S SO MUCH TO GO

Underfresh: he's not even a sans either. "Fresh" is a parasite inhabiting a skeleton. his birthday is on 4/20 which is ironic cus he doesn't like drugs. he censors swears. he speaks 90's lingo and dresses like a neon sign. for some reason he has eyebrows and a gold tooth. the glasses he has can change text but normally defaults to "YOLO". he can't feel anything since he has no soul of his own and just latches onto the host's. instead he learns how to act from the people around him. not being able to feel actually bothers him a LOT

Echotale: Aka Gaster sans. uhhh this one was also a comic if i remember correctly. basically Frisk and G!Sans are the only ones in the au and they're trying to find the core to fix the fucked up timeline that they're in but the core keeps changing positions so that sucks.

Swapfell: originally made by Khhoppang who left social media. Started out as an Alphys x Undyne au so only those two were designed but Kh was planning to design more of the characters. before they could people had a field day with the idea of mashing two aus together and SO many people came up with their own designs for sans and papyrus. Khhoppang left social media because they got overwhelmed with all the art reposters and stuff, pretty sad. the appearance of the sans in that au is the purple one with a scythe (i dont think he has a scythe in the og design).

Swapfell Red: so basically this is the swapfell made by people that isn't Khhoppang. community made per se. Sans's appearance changes constantly because as said before many people made many different designs. typically he just looks like Swap sans but with red high heel boots and his color scheme fits underfell

Fellswap (gold): Au made by blackggggum. so swapfell is underswap turned fell, fell swap is underfell swapped it takes a bit to understand that. his appearance is somewhat similar to Swapfell red. He's kind to his friends but if ur his enemy he'll fucking deck you. he's blind in his left eye, the leader of the royal guard, and secretly into dressmaking. fun fact in this au Papyrus has autism

Xtale: uuuuhhhh so Cross is a complicated one. he's part of the royal guard along with papyrus. has beef with xgaster. responsible for the downfall of his au and then Underverse happens and Ink is all "oh cool someone to mess with" and they became friends for a bit then shit hit the fan

Underfell: OOOOO YES UNIRONICALLY ONE OF MY FAVORITES. So Underfell sans is actually a very powerful mf and constantly has his magic eye activated because he has so much magic. This au is also technically an alternate timeline where monsters "lost their humanity" as the creator put it. so basically trust in the underground is scarce. Sans and papyrus, contrary to many interpretations i fucking hate, are actually on good terms (and no sans doesn't call papyrus "boss" the creator said if he does he'd do it ironically and papyrus would hate it). Fun facts he pays Grillby in socks (grillby accepts the socks as payment and wears them), if u make grillby laugh he gives u a jacket that looks like his and it's heavily implied that sans made him laugh because their jackets are similar

Underswap: ah yes another classic that i love as well. originally made by PopcornPr1nce who fled social media because they hated how the majority fandom treated Underswap (Blueberry and Carrot were popular names for the fanon swap papyrus and sans). Swap sans is constantly infantilized by the community which sucks and i hate it so i draw my own very super cool version of him whom i kin because i am also very super cool.

Outertale: mainly an aesthetic au pretty sure there's no comic of it. basically, instead of underground they in space. outer sans dies in underverse after like minutes of screentime lmao

Epictale: a comic made by Yugogeer. the og comic was retconned and the creator loathes the original version and made a reboot that's much better. Sans actually dies very early in it because Yugo hates how Sans is almost always focused on in aus. also the creator hates how meme-y their sans has become (like him saying bruh every single sentence, using a rubber chicken as a weapon, cookies, etc.) he's friends with Cross but not in canon. He has a purple magic eye that makes him immortal and i think only epic gaster could remove it which is how sans was able to be killed when he fought gaster.

Temmietale: it's undertale but everyone is temmie, don't question it

Trainertale: it's undertale but it's Pokemon, don't question it

Dancetale: it's undertale but you dance instead of fight, don't

Mobtale/Mafiatale: im unsure if mobtale and mafiatale are separate or not but they are very similar. basically undertale but mafia it's self explanatory

Undertale: no clue which au is this one, nope not at all/j

Bittytale or whatever idk: so take sans, make him small. boom. never understood this au

THAT BASTARD INK: HOOO BOY SAVED THE WORST FOR LAST. FUCK THIS GUY/j. THIS DUDE. IS THE REASON IM STILL INTO UNDERTALE AUS. I LOVE EM SO MUCH. also technically not a sans. He comes from an unfinished au and ripped his own soul to escape said au and became an outcode. for so long he was just a soulless husk until someone drew him and he got splashed with paint which let him feel. soon he learned to keep the paint in vials so that he can be able to feel 24/7. And then he learned how to create things with a paintbrush and the paint and spent time alone drawing up his own world until a portal appeared and took him to the multiverse. now he encourages artists to keep creating aus. he's the protector of aus in the sense that he keeps other outcodes from disrupting the script of the au, so if it's pacifist and an outcode tries to kill people he'd stop them, if it's genocide and an outcode tried to help them he'd stop them. no matter what he wants the au to stay on script. fun fact the creator of ink and the creator of error never had them interact with each other in canon, that was all the fandom's doing. Contrary to popular belief he's not really considered "good" his alignment is officially "Chaotic neutral". I personally interpret him a lot more chaotic than in canon because it's fun but he's a pretty chill guy actually. he can just be a bit of an ass sometimes. According to the creator of Ink (who is Comyet) his interpretation in Underverse is not canon compliant. one of the biggest canon things that underverse contradicts is Ink deliberately not taking his vials. if he were to do that in canon he'd become a husk again which is the equivalent of him "dying". he was described as a walking corpse by Comyet, without the vials he can't function anymore. Like Error he's pretty easy to beat if you know his weaknesses. also he has fears of empty spaces and being alone

off topic kinda but i very much love how Error and Ink are opposites yet parallel even though they were completely written without the other in mind. Error believes getting rid of aus is getting rid of anomalies. Ink believes people interfering with aus are anomalies. Error loves emptiness, Ink hates emptiness. list goes on it's funky fresh.

also uhhh sanses missing from that drawing that i can name from the top of my head

Seraphim sans, Insans, Dusttrust, He who shall not be named because he's from an 18+ au, Swapswap (yes. that exists), Storyshift, Inverted Fate (very good au i suggest checking it out), Negatale, Oceantale, Template, Pale, Mafiafell, Farmtale

my phone is at 9% y'all are spared from me going on

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Find the Word Tag Game

Absolutely No Angst Edition!

(tw: lovey shit and lengthy snippets I’m sorry)

tagged by: @sleepyowlwrites!! my words: stab, sharp, send, slip, slender, spring tagging: @drippingmoon, @ashen-crest, @drabbleitout, @sleepyowlwrites, anyone who wants to, and Frankie. boy I sure hope he made it to Hollywood. your words: take, fight, turn, smoke, blush

stab jab (Rebirth)—

"You're not responsible for everyone in the galaxy." Warren slid closer. "You don't need to keep proving that you've got the biggest, kindest heart here."

Thrive exhaled deeply, a grin tugging at his lips. "So I can go back to my true nature of being a wretched bastard, then."

Warren chuckled and playfully shoved his shoulder. "Couldn't even say that with a straight face." He cleared his throat. "You should take full advantage of this break, however short it may be. Go to the Skywaste show, ingest alcohol, sleep. A lot."

"Else you'll manipulate ——— into kidnapping me and forcing me to stay against my will in a deserted paradise?"

"Yeah," Warren said. "Yeah, I fuckin' will. Don't you forget it."

To his surprise, Thrive jabbed his fingers into his sides. Warren yelped and attempted to back away, but Thrive grabbed him around the waist and captured him in an unbreakable hold against him. Warren struggled to get free, giggling uncontrollably at the intense barrage of tickling to his waist, until he hooked his leg around Thrive's calf and they both went crashing to the floor.

sharp (Meridian)—

"Tournaltis has three moons," Thrive said. "One is a mining satellite, but the other two can be used as refugee camps should they be needed."

"That's unnecessary, sir," Sinkship said. "Efthim's people are being housed elsewhere in Andromeda."

In a surprising beat, Thrive broke out into a wide grin at that, slapping a stylus against the palm of his hand. Warren caught the lack of mirth in that grin, and could only imagine the vitriol he had to keep shielded from Delegate Talyssa and the other silhou in the room.

"Okay, first," Warren said when they were released into sentry custody again, "how did you clock that she was bullshitting you?"

Thrive sighed. "They always do. Not to mention the only planet in Ashva open to refugees is R'lis, and they don't have the resources to house that many at once. They would've had to turn away more than four fifths of Efthim's population."

"Second...I had plans for us but that look you gave Sinkship kinda tipped me over the edge…"

Thrive hummed, interested. "I'd invite you onto the royal starship, but I've so missed the close quarters of your apartment—"

Warren shook his head sharply. "No fuckin' way. The docks are closer. I'm not gonna have to jump up with a leg cramp at a critical moment, no thank you."

Thrive laughed and they were escorted once again to the tram.

send (Eternal)—

He didn't care if anybody else saw them at the moment; he gratefully let Thrive deepen the kiss, shifting his hands to his waist and pulling him closer. Thrive cupped his jaw and passed his tongue over Warren's bottom lip, sending a chill through him that was shared through their connection.

"Fuck," Warren whispered, pulling back only to catch his breath. "You're getting way too good at that."

"Thanks to you," Thrive murmured. "I've missed you."

Warren embraced him and buried his face in his throat, pressing his lips to every inch of skin that the form suit allowed. "I missed you too, so much."

"Hey, goopy dumbasses," Guetry called, and though his tone was teasing it also contained a hint of affection. Mercury's arm was tight around his waist and he had a steaming cup of something perched in one hand. "My gag reflex isn't up to par these days, d'you mind? Put it away for the big battle or something."

"Sorry," Warren called back. "Can't wait that long. Might have him take me right here."

"Well that's upsetting and hugely unnecessary. Unrelated—Scotty, go ahead and start recording vid for me please."

slip (Rebirth)—

"There are six Morrite guards below you," Scotty said. "They have been required on pain of death to stay at their post."

Warren quirked an eyebrow. "So we can drop down for a surprise visit."

"Essentially, yes."

"Osillo, get a head start and out of the vent if you can."

"Understood," they replied.

"On the count of three," Warren instructed. "One…two…three!"

They all opened fire into the floor, turning their faces away from the shrapnel of marble and the sparks that followed. They made a grandiose commotion that surely would've drawn attention to them, and the corridor quickly filled with heat from both the blasts of energy and the guns steadily becoming too hot to continue being safely fired.

Warren's magazine ran out first, followed by Emnophene's and Guetry's. Varussa, having used a smaller weapon, decided to cut out early.

When the smoke began to sting Warren's eyes he found himself delighted that he opted to keep the breather on. The air soon cleared to reveal a hole in the floor only large enough for a single person to slip through.

"...Alright," he muttered as they all replaced their mags. "It's...it'll be a very gradual surprise visit."

"We're so close," Guetry said, holding his rifle straight up in the air over his head. "Too close to fuck around. I'll take what we can get." He stepped forward and gracefully dropped into the hole feet-first, padding to the ground below with his balance intact. "My medical bills send their regards!"

A cacophony of more gunfire and Morrite yelling followed.

Warren sighed, turning to Varussa after a beat. "You ever have regrets?"

slender delicate (Aurora)—

"You know...the Consortium say they've got a lead on the Emmuli."

Thrive rolled his eyes and sighed from the recesses of his core.

For the past while, he and Warren watched with interest as Corin and Gouna worked together behind a sheet of clear plastic at the far end of the lab, bent over a table with strange instruments and devices around them. They worked diligently, delicately, and it was odd but comforting to watch Corin so focused and intense alongside his brother. The sight made Warren very confident that everything would turn out alright.

"I do not, by any means, intend to trivialize the situation," Thrive murmured so only Warren could hear him and he wouldn't disturb Gouna and Corin, "however...I am, one could say…"

Warren looked at him. "Sick to shit of the Emmuli?"

"Yes. Yes, that's exactly it."

"Me too." Warren failed to stop the amusement pressuring its way onto his face. "Yeah. I kinda feel like a poor little mouse who's been doomed to be the cat's plaything for the rest of its life."

Thrive rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "...I'm not familiar with any of those things."

Warren swiveled. "What? Really? Out of everything you've learned about Earth and humans and our idioms, that somehow got left behind?"

"I've had limited opportunity to brush up on my knowledge since leaving."

spring sprang (Rebirth)—

"Won't my outdated appearance compromise your little covert operation here?"

Guetry's gaze became more fixed over Warren's shoulder and he tensed up, shifting as if ready to leap into action. "Here's the thing...there ain't nothing covert about this."

He immediately sprang out of his seat and dead-sprinted down the wide walkway, his coat billowing out behind him as he chased the escaping allegiant away from the table. He whipped something out of his pocket, and a loud crack and a series of blinding flashes startled the Node residents around them.

Thin smoke filled the corridor, clearing out after some commotion to unveil Guetry with his boot-clad foot on the felled allegiant's back while bystanders gave them a gracious berth and stared in alarm. He talked into a device strapped onto his wrist and gave Warren a thumbs-up high above his head.

A few members of security moved in around the incapacitated and bound nuaclan and Guetry made his way back to the table.

"Now," he panted, pocketing what appeared to be a large handle with a metal cap. "About that date."

Warren slowly blinked. "Fiercely taken."

"Monogamous?"

"Yep."

"Damn. Worth a shot. So what's the story?"

[cypressleaves]

Tentacle Pets

A Bad Sanses Poly drabble, focused on Crossmare.

Lately, Cross had been taking an interest in Nightmare's tentacles - no, not in that way - and he was pretty sure it was obvious.

He lay draped over Killer and Dust's laps, not-so-discreetly eyeing the lazily flicking tendrils behind the lord of negativity, who was sat in a nearby chair, reading a book. Cross tilted his skull slightly, gaze trailing along the length of one tentacle, really taking the time to note the way it moved. They kind of reminded him of a cat's tail - and that thought opened up a whole new can of worms.

Can he feel them? If they are like cat's tails, does- does that mean I could pet them? Would Nightmare like them being pet?

Cross decided he would need to test his new rapidly-forming theories.

—————

"Nightmare? Can you feel your tentacles?"

The goopy skeleton looked up from his paperwork, staring incredulously at Cross. "...You distract me from my work to ask me that?"

Cross shifted his weight slightly. "Um. ..yes?"

Nightmare blinked. Then blinked again.

"Yes, I can."

"Okay," Cross replied simply, then left the room.

—————

What better time to test his Nightmare-tentacle-petting theory than one of the nights everyone spent cuddling?

Cross and Nightmare were situated in the middle of the gang's cuddle-pile. Nightmare was laying on his stomach, arms folded beneath his head, eye socket closed. His tentacles were curled up loosely on his back, in a very convenient position for Cross to try his petting theory. Slowly, he shifted around and raised an arm toward Nightmare's back. He brushed the tips of his phalanges over the tentacle nearest to him. The appendage stiffened for a moment and Nightmare opened his eye, turning his head to look at Cross questioningly. Cross didn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on the tentacle he was touching. Carefully, he dragged his fingers down its length, observing the way the goop moved like really thickened slime. When he moved his hand up the tendril, it quivered, and the tip of it curled around his wrist and arm up to his elbow, settling there like a snake.

Cross glanced over at Nightmare's face to see his socket half-lidded, his features softened in relaxation. Cross' mouth twitched upwards in a small smile and he kept stroking the tentacle until he fell asleep.

—————

"You aren't developing a tentacle fetish, are you?" Nightmare asked bluntly. Cross' face erupted with a lavender blush.

"N-no! No, I'm not, I'm just, curious?"

Nightmare remained silent for a few moments, staring at the monochrome skeleton long enough for him to start nervously squirming. Then, he smirked. "Well, to answer your question, most times I have full control over my extra limbs. They rarely do their own thing. The last time that was -" He cut himself off suddenly, and Cross was surprised to see the faintest hint of turquoise on his cheekbones. Nightmare cleared his throat sharply, half-heartedly glaring at Cross. "It was two days ago when you were, uh, petting them."

Cross, suddenly, felt the distinct, and rather uncharacteristic, urge to giggle. That said something - many somethings. If the fact he'd pet Nightmare's tentacles was enough to fluster the goopy skeleton enough to make him blush, then Cross held a lot of potential power.

"Okay," he said simply, a big grin on his face as he spun around and left the room.

—————

Cross would never forget the moment he discovered what he liked to call, the Magic Petting Spot.

He'd woken up to find he and Nightmare were alone in their bedroom. (Killer told him later the gang had all woken up early to plan a special surprise for Nightmare, and teased Cross on the fact he'd slept so heavily none of them were able to wake him up. Cross decided to ignore the teasing in favor of committing to memory Killer's face when Cross told him of his discovery of the Magic Petting Spot.)

Nightmare still looked half-asleep. Cross had learned before that a tired Nightmare was more receptive to his tentacles being pet. Grinning, he scooted closer to the goopy skeleton, placing his hand a few inches away from the base of a tentacle and rubbing.

Nightmare's reaction was uncharacteristic and wildly different from all the other times Cross had managed to pet his tentacles. Instead of just relaxing, he practically melted at the touch, whole body going slack as a loud rumbling noise filled the room. Cross stared for several seconds, his hand stilling for a moment.

Holy shit.

Holy shit!

Is he purring?!

He snapped out of his overwhelming excitement when Nightmare made a low grumbling sound, shifting his weight ever so slightly to push back against Cross' hand. Cross blinked, shook his head, and kept rubbing the tentacle. The appendage swished happily in his hold. Cross found himself grinning as he tested out the same spot on the other three tentacles, getting the same reaction out of each - happy swishing and a shit-ton of loud purring. A quick look up revealed Nightmare looking absolutely blissed out, eye socket half-lidded and a small smile on his face.

Holy. Shit.

I'm totally the luckiest skeleton alive right now.

—————————————————

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