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gamerbearmira · 2 years ago

Note

spoiled Mirabel au

Her glasses are made out of the jade from her papa's tio's vision tablets and perfectly made to fit her face and made not to annoy her.

her necklace and bracelets are made of real gold

shirt, gloves, and bed sheets are made with mulberry silk(which is the most important silk)

you know, all the best for the precious Mirabel

It's kind of ironic that Isabela is trying to be friends with Mirabel because Mira could have sworn Isabela ignored her after her ceremony. Isabela is trying to be friends with her for attention not because she feels bad or even realizes what she did.

The townspeople already know what she's trying to do and they shut that down real quick

Mirabel's birthday parties are always the talk of the town, not the other madrigal's birthdays.

Her birthdays are always the best thing happening in the village and they always come up with new things for her to do so she doesn't get bored

The town started spoiling her after her ceremony. Alma had snapped at her saying "stop pestering your familia with your childish needs" and that caused her to run and hide in an alleyway crying. A couple saw her and asked her what had happened, her little sad face made them nearly buy everything in the village for her. The other villagers noticed this and followed suit

Her kindness and generosity are what make people give her things

Just think of Charlotte from the princess and the frog mixed with her canon personality

she's sweet and spoiled

they don't pressure her into being perfect or elegant they just let her be her

which is why she's sometimes always covered in dirt. She tries her best not to get any of her dresses dirty because her seamstress mama(Aliana Vergara) works hard on them so she tries to be considerate

If she does end up making some clothes dirty she will help Aliana in her shop even though Ali insists she doesn't need to. Plus Mira will handwash the clothes herself(if Bruno doesn't step in and do it for her)

She has about 50 mamas and papas for obvious reasons. She also was gifted with lots of siblings as well. They have no issues with each other because Mirabel makes sure everybody gets attention, not just her.

she is taught morals and values like any other child should be taught

she rarely does anything bad. The only bad thing she'll ever do is still a cookie from the cookie jar when she wasn't supposed to and she'll just end up confessing anyway.

I couldn't resist the puffs

first of he does not wear shoes he's a wild boy

Antonio asked Mirabel if she could make him a halo and some Angel wings when he was 4 because he loved that people adored him and he wanted more adoration

Mira couldn't say no and she made him the halo and wings. And as he knew would happen people adored him more.

he's very sweet and kind like his older sister but very stubborn and well you know...spoiled

But when he receives a gift he always likes to pay it back somehow. Either he'll repay you in work or a gift. He's pretty lazy so he'll mostly do gifts

You can't refuse the gift even if you try you get hit with this

"No, you deserve this gift, you gave me one and I give you one it's fair all around and I WON'T take no for an answer," he says confidently with a handmade stuffed bunny in his hand. You can't say no

His baker mama (Esmerelda Castillo) loves giving him(and Mirabel) free food. Whenever he walks into the shop he can just go behind the glass case and grab a cookie. Let one of the older madrigals try that...

He likes baking and cooking with her and her three kids.

Like his sister, he gets hurt a lot which really stresses out some of the villagers but he always ends up ok.

He loves helping his sister with events. They will go all out for birthday parties, quinceanera's, quinceanero's, holiday parties, and weddings.

Townspeople info

overtime they realized what kind of people the madrigals are and they don't really mess with them like that anymore.

let one of the madrigals try and hurt either of their two babies/siblings physically or verbally. they're going to have a world full of physical or emotional pain and hopefully not both

Once Isabela said something mean to Mirabel and she nearly had the whole town on her ready to emotionally hurt and/or fight her.

You should have seen her face when people of all ages kept walking up to her and cussing her out or downright ignoring her.

Not even an hour after she walked out of the house she ran back home with tears streaming down her eyes.

Alma was outraged she went into the town square and ordered the people who "disrespected" Isabela to come forward and apologize. The only thing she got was -

"teach your granddaughter some manners and then we'll talk"

"Why should we apologize to a brat?"

"the only one who should do the apologizing is her"

"Mirabel didn't deserve that"

Bruno took it upon himself to tell Alma what happened

Alma proclaimed that Mirabel was only lying to get attention. Mirabel was only seven why would she lie about that? The villagers + Bruno aren't that stupid Mirabel was straight up bawling her eyes out about what she said. She could barely breathe.

Dolores didn't hear the fight because she didn't listen in on it. What she did hear was people spreading rumors about Isabela and cussing her out.

Nobody talks to Isabela anymore. Until the villagers hear Mirabel say that she apologized and she was actually sorry for it they won't even acknowledge her.

Mirabel tried to say that she apologized because she didn't want her sister in trouble but everybody can tell when she was lying.

The madrigal dinner was really quiet that night and Mirabel wanted to shrink in her seat. Her papa had to reassure her that he wouldn't let Alma say anything. If Alma was to even open her mouth to say something that seemed to come for Mirabel Bruno shot her a death glare

Julieta didn't notice because she was busy thinking about what to cook the next day and Agustin was confused about what was happening.

So yeah if I can think of any snippets I will write them. They'll mostly evolve how the villagers stopped talking to the madrigals one by one.

WHEN THE TOWN

WHEN THE TOWN SPOILS THEM <333

At least the town is. Standing up to the Madrigals, because none of the others will 💀💀 Glad they saw how mean Isa was too. I'm honestly surprised it took them so long. Anyway, I think this au is nice! Love it when the town adores Mirabel <33

#encanto #my asks are open #my asks #encanto au #au #encanto mirabel #spoiled sweet au #encanto antonio

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silkenstarlight · 4 years ago

Text

body is a temple

Summary: Bucky and reader are training when she finds him staring at her ass. She tries to rile him up, but quickly learns that he doesn’t tolerate teasing.

Pairing: Personal trainer!Bucky x reader

Warning/s (18+ only, minors dni): enemies to lovers, dirty talk, degradation, spanking, multiple orgasms

Word count: 2.8k

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Author’s note: i wrote this while wine-drunk, so if it’s extra horny, you know why

“Fuck!”

You tumbled onto the mat, back slamming against cool polyethylene. The breath whooshed from your body in a dramatic, crushing exhale, your lungs desperately trying to pull in air but failing beyond shallow, raspy puffs. Bucky looked down at you, the fluorescent lights of the gym feathering behind his head in a blinding halo, smirking as he drank in the image of you sprawled on the mat below him, completely at his mercy. He let you lie there for one, two, three seconds, before holding out his hand for you to grab onto. It was a kind gesture, something that completely contrasted with his previous rough treatment. You squinted and firmly grasped his hand, feeling your back leave the mat as he propped you upright again.

“Is that the best that you can do, (Y/N)?” He stepped back, walking to the edge of the mat and retrieving your water bottle for you.

You huffed, raspy breathing slowly returning to normal. “Is this really necessary?”

He handed you your water bottle, frowning. “Of course it’s necessary.”

“I was told that you would be my personal trainer. Nowhere in the program description did it say that you were going to beat my ass all day,” you shook your head, slightly incredulous, and took a few grateful gulps from the water bottle. You felt more comfortable talking back to him because you were the last ones left in the gym today, with no one but him to overhear your complaining. You had expected some light cardio, maybe some weight training, when you had signed up for individual sessions with a personal trainer at your new gym. You didn’t think you would be paired right away with Bucky, who seemed to exclusively work with experienced heavy lifters, and you definitely didn’t think he would take it upon himself to teach you self-defense, a skill which he was surprisingly extremely well-versed in. Every day for the past week, you had ended up in a similar supine position on the mat, beaten and scrambling for air, accumulating a mottled collection of nasty bruises and scrapes on your knees and elbows. The most frustrating part was that he remained unscathed through it all. Every time, it was you on your ass, and him helping you up. It made you want to scream.

Well, that actually wasn’t the only thing about this whole situation that made you want to scream. He was incredibly good-looking, exactly your type, all brooding looks and dark eyes. You actually had to pick your jaw up off of the floor when he walked in to your first session last week. But, the worst part was, he was a cocky bastard. He had to know the effect he had on you, and yet, he chose to do nothing about it.

“Well, you’ll just have to do better if you want me to stop crushin’ you every time.” He dabbed at his forehead with the hem of his shirt, and even though he frustrated you to no end, it took everything you had in you not to let your eyes drift down to look at his toned stomach.

“Now I think you’re just trying to make me mad.” You huffed, walking to the edge of the mat and returning your water bottle to its perch, preparing for another round.

“Well, if I’m pissing you off, why don’t you use that anger? Beat me. Just once,” he smirked, as if firmly believing that you couldn’t, that you didn’t have it in you. But, you were just stubborn enough to take the challenge.

“Fine.” You cocked your head and gritted your teeth, digging your heels into the mat and crouching in a ready position.

“3… 2… 1… start.” The ghost of a smirk still graced his face, but he was concentrating on your movements now, eyes darting as you approached.

Jab, cross, jab. Knee, high kick, and--

“Damn you, Barnes.”

One quick sweep, and he had you pinned. You wanted to scream, to thrash in frustration, but his body pressing against your back limited any movement on your part. Wonder if he likes having me pinned like this. You tried not to let that thought develop further, lest the heat you had worked up from sparring travelled up your neck for him to see, or worse, somewhere farther south--

“Why are you still panting, (Y/N)?” You could feel a puff of hot breath against your ear as he chuckled.

Fuck. “My, uh… my asthma must be acting up again.”

“Didn’t think you had asthma.” He flipped off of you, arching a brow as you slowly stood.

“Forgot to tell you, then,” you fibbed, trying at all costs to avoid spilling the truth, that your panting was the effect of an illicit fantasy that you had thought about in bed, alone, on more than one occasion.

“Uh huh,” he said, unconvinced. You both got into a ready position again.

“3… 2… 1… start.”

This time, you took more of a defensive strategy, evaluating him before striking. Maybe, if you weren’t so focused on completing the flourishing movements, on hitting with perfect precision and strength, you could anticipate his attack instead. You circled around each other like sharks, his eyes glinting almost hungrily, but doing nothing to bely his next move. It was like trying to size up a brick wall.

Suddenly, he darted forward with a speed that no man his size should have, and he swept your legs from under you, flipping you with ease. You fell ungracefully in a prone position, cheek smacking the mat, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. You groaned, aching muscles begging for you to stop and rest instead of getting up and accepting his challenge. You pressed your forehead into the mat, weighing whether it was worth the hassle of asking him to cut your session short today, when you noticed that he was completely silent.

You furrowed your brows, eyes flying open. Every time he had defeated you in previous rounds, he had uttered some sarcastic, infuriating quip, trying to rub in his victory even more. But he hadn’t said anything yet.

You pushed your chest up off the mat, craning your neck to look back at him. He was obviously looking at your body, eyes transfixed on your lower half, but when he sensed your sudden movement, he broke out of his trance. He quickly got up from his kneeling position, clearing his throat and walking to the water jug on the far wall. A smile slowly grew on your face as you realized that he had been staring at your ass.

You stood up, slowly walking toward him, assessing him with a sly expression on your face. “Were-- were you doing what I think you were doing just then?”

His back was to you as he filled a little paper cup with water. “If you mean pummelling your sorry ass into the mat yet again, then yes.” His voice still carried its usual snarky tone, but it shook slightly, as if he were just caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Not exactly what I meant.” You stepped closer until a foot separated you, and he turned around to face you.

“Then what do you mean, doll?” He smiled smugly, but you noticed the pink blush that was creeping its way up his neck.

You hummed a laugh. “What I mean, Barnes,” you cocked your head, relishing how your sudden onset confidence wiped the smirk from his face, “is that you were enjoying the view back there. Isn’t that right?”

Now it was his turn to huff a laugh. “Well, what can I say? You’ve got a nice ass. Gotta get something out of these sparring sessions.”

You scoffed. “Fucking pervert.”

“Call me that again.” His tone was more serious, suddenly bereft of the saccharine sarcasm you were so used to.

You paused, weighing his tone against the risqué direction the conversation was heading, and you smirked, deciding to provoke him further. “You’re a fucking pervert. Beatin’ girls up, just so you have a chance to get a good, long look at their bodies. What the fuck is up with that? Can’t get some like a normal person, can you?”

He let that sink in, head dipped, eyebrows raised. But then, a thought seemed to cross his mind, and a wicked smile crept onto his face. He looked at you with hooded eyes, and your stomach flipped, unsure if you were extremely turned on by your sudden proximity to him, or if you were preparing to balk.

“You’re going to regret saying that.” His voice was low, rasping with something you’ve never heard from him. Your mind was telling you to back up, to leave this encounter before it got messy, but your feet stayed rooted in position as he bridged the gap between your bodies. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you around before pinning you roughly against the wall.

“You know,” he said, breath hot against your ear, “you really shouldn’t be calling me a perv, when I know exactly what goes on in that head of yours during our training.”

“Wh- what do you mean?” You decided to play dumb, hoping that he wasn’t astute enough to deduce your secret, licentious desires.

“Oh, you know. Whenever I pin you, you’re always blushing.” He laughed mockingly. “It’s cute. It’s like you secretly want to be dominated.”

You huffed a breath as his hands traveled down your waist, before settling gently on your hips. His lips dragged across the shell of your ear and down your neck, pressing against your pulse point. You arched your back, grinding against the hard bulge that was forming in his shorts.

“Is that right, (Y/N)? You want me to pin you down and fuck you dumb?” He mumbled against your neck.

A wanton moan tumbled from your lips in response, but it wasn’t good enough for him. His fingers dug harshly into your hips. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Yes, p-please.” You hated how breathy your voice was, but you were too overtaken by desire to care whether he was just doing this to get a reaction from you.

“Please what?” You could feel his mouth curl into a smile as he reattached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly.

“Please, please, please, fuck me, Bucky.” Another moan slipped from your mouth.

“That’s better, baby.” His fingers relaxed against your hips, tracing upwards to the hem of your leggings. He tugged them down with your underwear so that they settled just below your ass, and he pulled back slightly to look at your bare backside.

“Goddamn,” he said, voice gravelly and low. He squeezed one cheek with his hand, kneading it slightly before letting it go and slapping it. “Been dreaming of this ass. It’s just as good as I imagined.”

You gasped, giggling. “So, I was right.”

“Right about what?” He asked, pulling down his shorts and freeing his cock before pressing it against your backside, hot length already dripping with precum.

“You’re a fucking perv, Bucky Barnes.” You smiled coquettishly.

He stilled behind you, and you could feel his glare burning a hole through the back of your neck. You kept smiling anyways-- this was the exact reaction you had hoped for.

He guided the tip of his member down to your slit, dragging it from your perineum to your clit and back again to gather your wetness, before completely sheathing himself inside of you in one motion. You moaned loudly in response to the harsh intrusion, body struggling to accommodate his size.

“Thought you learned not to call me that,” he said, voice level, unbothered by the fact that you were throbbing around him.

“Guess I n-never learn.” Your voice was barely a whisper as he began to move, slowly thrusting to allow your body a chance to adapt to the thrilling ache of being so completely full. It was a harsh sensation, but it felt good, each stroke dragging pleasantly against your tight walls.

“Oh, you’ll learn.” His left hand travelled up your body, drawing under your shirt and flipping the band of your sports bra up. Your breasts bounced free, full and heavy. “Let’s see those pretty little tits, huh?”

He pinched one nipple, rolling its rosy, peaked bud between his cool metal fingers and making you squeal in delight. You ground back against him, encouraging him to move faster inside of you.

“You like that?” He switched to the other nipple, kneading your breast gently in his hand, and you arched into the motion. “That feel good?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, trying to swallow your moans, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart so quickly and completely at his hands. “N-no.”

“You know,” he said, driving into you harder and harder with each thrust, but remaining frustratingly unperturbed and casual, “you don’t have to lie to me. I feel how drenched you are. You can admit how good it feels, baby.” His feigned affectionate tone, paired with the way that the tip of his cock was starting to brush against your g-spot, made you cry out. His permission to let go just made you want to disobey him even more, but the pleasure was slowly overtaking your body, overriding your sense of shame. You rocked on your heels, trying to take back some semblance of control, but when his left hand dragged from your breast to your neck, squeezing slightly, you were a goner. You shattered around him, your muscles fluttering around him and coaxing a gruff moan from his throat. But, he kept his focus, fucking you through your orgasm and watching your face as he did, your eyes scrunched shut and your lips dropped open in a soft “o.” He let go of your throat and you gasped.

As the waves of your orgasm subsided, he refused to slow down, his unrelenting pace repeatedly hitting your deepest point. You could feel him grinning stupidly at you, proud that he had already coaxed an orgasm out of you despite not cumming yet himself.

“B-Bucky,” you whined, your body limp against his. Though your first orgasm had abated, you quickly felt tension building again inside of you.

“Not so cocky now, are you, (Y/N)?” He said between heavy breaths. You knew he was close, just by the sound, but you also knew that he wouldn’t leave this room without teasing another orgasm from your body. “So docile once I put my dick in you.” He panted, laughing at the way you mewled and gasped around him.

His hand drifted down to where your bodies met, finding your clit in the slippery mess of your combined arousal. He pressed his fingers against it in erratic little circles, your body keening for him, completely at his mercy.

“Look at that, makin’ you gush around me again,” he said, almost to himself, reveling in your neediness. “Looks like I win at this, too.” And, with that, you were done for.

Your muscles squeezed around him in a sweet, warm vice, and he groaned at the sensation of you cumming around him a second time. You mewled pathetically, body spent with unabashed pleasure. He followed closely behind you, losing himself inside of you and spilling his arousal in hot, vulgar stripes. His head was thrown back, claiming your body as his in sweet, silent throes. Once his hips finally stilled, his body slumped against yours, completely and utterly spent. You stayed like that for a moment, leaning up against the wall, the battle between you clearly over. And then, he grasped your hips, his cock slipping out of you with a vulgar sucking sound.

You bent down, pulling up your pants, when you heard him clear his throat. You looked back, reaching underneath your shirt to pull your sports bra back down over your tits, when he chuckled. You arched a brow, but he just shook his head slightly. “That was… much more fun than beating you up.”

You frowned slightly, but when you saw his goofy smile and suddenly relaxed demeanor, you couldn’t help but mirror his expression. “Does that mean that we get to do that, instead of my training?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” he said sternly, crossing his arms but smiling slyly nonetheless. “But, we can do it outside of training. As long as I get to take you to dinner first,” he added quickly, his voice almost shy as he averted your gaze.

You smiled, laughing, and he looked up, expression nervous. Now, you shook your head. “Considering how good you just fucked me, I should be the one buying you dinner.”

He smirked, grabbing your water bottle and handing it to you, his fingers brushing against yours. “Now, that’s an offer that I can’t refuse.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfic #smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky barnes headcanon #bucky barnes drabble

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crystalpharm · 3 years ago

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Available Carts

Reach us on wickr app at pharma134

- Puff Bars

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Disposable

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Woods

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Pre Rolls

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Moon Rocks

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#oxycodone #coke #molly #AK-47 #stonners #weed #morphine #cookies

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cemeteryrocks900 · 3 years ago

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Like 1/4c-1/3c ice cream (35)

1.5 cookies (190,95)

Pretty good, I can finally taste more and I can approve, the strawberry halo top is my favorite so far

I grabbed my cheezit puffs bc I’ve never had them before but I don’t want them rn bc I’m still full

I’m also so so tired and I’m seeing my bf tomorrow!!

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sugar-petals · 4 years ago

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hey angel (m)

♡ sub!felix + reader

↳ The JYP Halloween party is ditched on short notice. That means: You have a down-to-celebrate boyfriend in full angel costume on your hands.

words. 5k

tags. domestic au, finger sucking, hickeys, latex, corruption kink, fingering, vaginal sex, footjob, harnesses, cunnilingus, kitten antics, edging, aftercare

★⎡CARO’S NOTE⎦› here goes the cutie on duty 👼

genre. domestic + smut/crack

„So sorry mate,“ Bang Chan’s voice resounds through the speaker. „I thought it could work but… We can’t celebrate tonight. Really sorry, Felix. Changbin and I already got dressed up too, but, you know things got shut down. JYP won’t let us with the Corona rules and stuff.“

„Oh no…“

„Yeah, man. Looks like we’ll have to do it next year.“

„You even prepared the food already, right?“

„We’re handing it out to staff and eat it at home. I know, it sucks. I spent half the morning in the kitchen. I can like keep the pumpkin cookies so you can eat them tomorrow after practice or so.“

„I feel so sorry Chan… and thank you.“

„I’ll be calling Hyunjin and Han now as well. Really sorry we’re cancelling short notice. I hope you’re still having a nice evening bro. Maybe we can make it happen for Christmas.“

„Okay. Cheers mate.“

„Yeah, cheers.“

Felix puts his phone down looking more than deflated in his angel costume, puffs out a big sigh. You can tell he really looked forward to this. Just an hour before, you bothered to sew the wings in place rather than rely on the wobbly back-pack like construction that came with it.

They’re firmly attached to his white top now, and all for nothing. He glued them together by himself with a pack of synthetic feathers ordered on Etsy for a ridiculous shipping cost, along with a little halo that he clipped into his hair. Which, because maybe it really does sense his mood, dangles low and even a bit lopsided over his head.

„It’s the party of the year,“ Felix flops down on the living room couch. “I can’t believe this.“

You sit down opposite to him, starting to clean off the table where masses of cosmetic products and leftover feathers have piles up.

„Next time, Lixie. We can keep the costume. Poor Chan, he organized the living shit out of everything.“

„I’ll just go and shower, get this off, and stuff,“ he points at his face. Felix applied his own makeup with a little help from you here and there, including some golden sparkles. Just yesterday, he bleached his hair. It’s sculpted down to every strand with hair spray now. Felix unties his sneakers with the little gold stars on. Just before he starts plucking off his halo, you get an idea, pick up your phone from the table.

„Wait— Let’s at least make some pictures with your phone, you put so much effort in this. You look so cute. The fans might want to see it as well.“

„Oh! You’re right,“ Felix stops right in his tracks. „For Instagram.“

After tightening his sneakers again and you making sure the halo sights right, Felix walks around your flat in search for a nice backdrop. You follow, quickly flipping through some filters to try, and adjusting the flash on the camera.

After posing at the fridge — strange idea — and in the bathroom turns out a little awkward as well, you decide that such an elaborate costume needs a themed background, and only the bedroom offers just that. You recently changed the duvet to sky blue sheets with clouds on them. The overall interior is mostly clean white as well, with some thrifted vintage furniture. Fairy lights, heavy curtains, a wooden ceiling. Perfect.

„We’ll caption it as… post your own stay-at-home costume, something like that,“ Felix plops down on the bed, acting as if he just took a seat on the cloud in the very middle.

„Sounds pretty good,“ you press release, and the first picture pops up on your screen. „Can you turn a little towards the light? That the sparkles are showing.“

„Yay, I love the sparkles!“

„Just like this, just like this. Don’t move. The sparkles!“

A five-picture series of more snapshots ensues, with you adjusting Felix’s face a few times by hand, even, turning his chin by sheer millimeters to find the perfect angle. He’s stunning.

„I have another idea.“

„Oh?“

„I remember what I wore for Halloween three years ago. The costume must be somewhere. I think it fits together with yours.“

„What, oh wow?“

„What was it again, wait…“

You already begin to sort through your wardrobe, checking each hanger, each drawer, end up where you store your socks, and finally pull out a larger plastic zip bag from the very depths of all that chaos. There it is. Nice.

„Lix, if you’d turn around for me, please.“

He immediately does. Blushing.

„Thank you, angel.“

You pull off your sweat pants, your grey shirt, socks, your bra. Time to dress up. Only your simple black panties stay on. On goes a pair of scarlet stockings, snug and high. Then, a dark red latex skirt that goes in big circles and flounces, down to the mid-thigh.

Added: A tight sleeveless peplum top that admittedly… and deliberately squeezes your boobs a little. Not too much. More important is that your nipples are showing right through, and the cleavage is sweeping, every demon would be salivating at your feet. If an angel does: Remains to be tested.

Around your waist and chest and over your shoulder goes a black harness, pulling everything together. Some very pointed, glossy pumps with thin heels complete the costume. They’re not crafted to be walked on in the very least, their balance is terrible. You’re planning something else with them. Cherry on top: Devil horn headband. Really curved and pointy, too. Can’t go wrong. You click your tongue and take a spin. The skirt flares out perfectly. Ready to go.

„Felix, time to turn around.“

He does. You can tell he didn’t cheat.

„You’re, you’re so hot in this,“ Felix buries his face right in the comfort of his sweater paws, hoping they would not give away his embarrassed little face. But — his voice does, effortlessly so.

„Come on, have a look at me. Real closely, angel, come. You’re allowed to.“

Felix gazes through his fingers with what sounds like a little meep! in a much more high-pitched tone than his usual speaking range. He’s cute.

„Hey pum’kin. Miss Lucifer speaking. Where’s the barbecue?“

Felix and you recently agreed that hell must be one big and extremely hot cave where everyone’s grilling and having a good time. Australia, essentially.

„Welp!“

„Damn right. Infiltrating God’s realm one cloud at a time. Any last words?“

„It’s so intimidating!“

Felix digs himself into a mountain of pillows on the bed, with only his eyes and nose peeking out. You shrug, adjust your horns.

„Hm. Time for my first satanic act I guess.“

„Oh no!“

„Wait just one minute, be a sweet and patient boy.“

You leave Yongbok confused given that you’re quick to hurry to the kitchen. However, what you return with puts a giggle on his lips right away.

„Boom. It is served.“

„Yes, yes, please!“

Poufy black cocoa cupcakes. The ones with the cute little ghost frosting on it, and the melted chocolate inside. Felix finds them irresistable since the last Halloween party, to the point where you bake them mid-July. The current set of cupcakes was meant to be a contribution to Bang Chan’s eerie and delectable buffet. As for now, they’re in deep need of someone hungry since you made a lot of them, assuming a post-workout Changbin would devour at least five or more.

„Good move,“ he admits, a little shaky, and you proceed to tray the cupcakes on the bed — stuffing Felix for a solid ten minutes until there’s chocolate all over his face. What you’ll be quick to confess is that you’ve been deliberately messy feeding him, with all the crumbs in particular.

„Spoiled honey bun,“ you plant a kiss on top of his head.

„These taste so good, I swear.“

Next up is Felix who has to carefully maneuver the sweet treats into your mouth without spoiling your outfit.

„If you get crumbs into my cleavage, I can’t put your face in there later you know.“

Fierce nodding.

„That’s the spirit.“

Under your eagle eyes, he proves to be an obedient little cherub doing his job pretty well. The cakes are delicious in how spongy they are, and the liquid chocolate warms up so well on the tongue, it melts even more. You’re more than pleased and have Felix store away the remaining four pieces only after quite a while.

„I’ll have them for Brekkie, woo!“ is what he’s fast to proclaim, and you agree he’ll need them the next morning. Once you’re done with him, that’s gonna count as a hangover even Chan’s wildest party couldn’t give him.

„We’re talking dinner first, Felix.“

At this point, all the sugar is kicking in. Or it’s the chocolate being some kind of aphrodisiac. Whatever, could be either, you’re feeling like you’re up there at the ceiling, and you’re not the only one. Felix coming back to the bedroom so bouncy and cutieful just gets you even more in the mood.

You sit at the edge of the bed, slanting backward just a little. „You look like you need some more corruption, I won’t lie,“ you pat your lap, beckoning. He can ditch wifi because this is his favorite hot spot waiting for him. Felix sits down looking tiny as ever, eyes full of anticipation and his pants full of… big fat late night erection.

„I don’t mind at all, Miss. I don’t, oh my god…“ he mumbles into his nonexistent Aussie trucker beard, and you’re clear that whatever the skirt did to him, his brain must be doing kangaroo somersaults right now. In the meantime, something very eager is poking right at your lower belly. Captain Boomerang already came fully armed tonight and the Suicide Squad isn’t even anywhere near to be seen.

„Oh hey hey, cupcake. Getting really big there,“ you wipe at the curled little corners of his mouth. Some crumbs come off. His lips already twitch the way you know they want to do naughty things on you. He doesn’t seem to notice. Autopilot Felix has already taken over.

„Don’t hurry with it,“ he stares, mouth half-open, but his little grinds prove him a dirty — in an entirely direct sense — fucking liar. Like he’s literally rubbing himself against your stomach.

„Boy oh boy. You’re not even trying.“

„I’m fucked!“ is what Felix soon realizes with the daggers you’re shooting at him through your hopefully very satanic-looking eyes right now. Alongside catching up with his darn hips doing their own thing.

„You are.“

„I’m sorry for grinding, God help me!“

„He won’t. Cuz I’m here on your cloud. Cue stage number two of my demonic plan. Safeword?“

„It’s chocolate!“

„Mh. Good pick.“

The rest as usual. Tapping the thigh, yellow for pause, towels plus water ready, and always double-checking the lube in case of Jisung putting a glass of vegemite under your bed as his latest practical joke. Yes, it happened. It’s a whole new level of demonic. On the other hand: perhaps Felix’ ass could’ve actually handled it, Made in Australia it is.

„Let’s go honey angel,“ you curl at his hair with a little finger just to tease him a little more. The answer is a little meow, at this point Felix’ communication skills have simplified to kitten vocabulary which always happens when he is nervous and looking forward to something.

Next thing poor Felix knows, his face has entered the scorching satanic abyss that is your cleavage. Literally, you’re burning up. It’s fucking October and Felix has you breaking a sweat from all your horniness (literally, your horns are just that chic) already. Twice the reason to punish the shit out of him. If that can be considered anything near a punishment.

A shower of various „Mh— nh!“ and mewling noises comes to rain down on you while Felix face takes a trip down mammary lane, and that, too, is literal. He’s salivating. So much about rain. Actually, great lubrication. Felix always does things best by instinct.

„Yes, good boy. Great job.“

Now that his mouth is wet already, you’re unceremonious about shoving your fingers right down his throat after he resurfaces. Blushed, hard, and ready to choke himself since he’s already running short on breath. It doesn’t take long until he’s gagging himself stupid and the sparkles under his eyes start running.

„Pretty, pretty,“ you lean down a little, kissing his nose. „Give me all you got.“

„Gh—gch—“

The answer is as slobbery and unintelligible as can be. To a normal human, at least. You’re a demonic top. That automatically means having an Ivy League major in gag noise translation.

„Oh yes, I know,“ you stroke his hair, using your free hand that usually rests at the back of his neck. „Talk to me about it. Exactly what I was thinking. Do go on.“

And he does, louder than ever. If there’s one satisfying sound, it’s this, that heavenly deep voice doing all kinds of nasty acrobatics is making you go crazy. That Felix is absolutely close to cumming in his angel pants is very much clear to you given how the veins and muscles on his neck are having a chaotic Halloween party on their own.

Which includes his tongue taking turns on your two fingers as well. And a wide-eyed Felix struggling, swallowing, holding on to your shoulders with his little feet twitching in their sneakers. Like mad… and you love it. But also — hopelessly sucking and moaning and slurping and squealing until his neck has way too much saliva on it for you not to make it your next target. Felix is so good at this. Way too good.

„Looks delicious,“ you lean in, your hair tickles his ears. And now, you’re busy nibbling, biting a little… and most importantly, giving Felix a wet hickey that will send his makeup artist — my God, you really torture the unsuspecting man almost weekly — into a meltdown. Rowdy and unholy is the look you’re going for.

In the meantime, Felix is still wrapped up trying to hit your fingers at the back of his throat. If his cute bouncy run and rude boner moment didn’t turn you on already, now you would be. The way he’s just sucking in his own spit makes you realize that you won’t ever need a fire brigade for your flat.

You emerge from his neck and raise your brows. Felix is just hard-wired to impress. „Just how much saliva can you produce!“

„Ch… Mnh— Nh…“

Hitting some more complex syntax and consonants there, is he.

„Oh, I get it now. You stayed hydrated during the day. Thanks for explaining, mate. That’s the secret.“

Whether that’s perfectly scientifically correct down to the enzyme theory and shit neither of you can google right now. At least you know that you’re both drenched on either end so that’s that.

Once Felix is so horny from deepthroating your damn hand that he has pull off and yellow-word, you’re already prepared for introducing a new position which you can prepare while he’s gathering himself and wiping off his chin. You hand him a second towel for his neck, and present him a little hand mirror to see how the hickey turned out.

„It’s shaped like, hm,“ he pants, words still slurring a little. „I dunno! It’s really cute!“

„Let me see… No doubt that’s a rice cake hickey. That’s the shape.“

„You’re right!“

And off he goes snapping a selfie with it while you get comfortable on your back, cleaning your own fingers.

„Just don’t upload that one to Insta instead of the cloud shots, we’re not gonna survive another Manager call at 1:15 AM.“

„Can I use your phone for it? That’s where it’s supposed to be on, anyway.“

Felix giggles a little. That cute brat. Always knowing how it’s done.

„Sure babe!“

And voilà, Felix is already occupied setting a good view of his new rice cake-shaped friend as your phone background. Good thing, helps his erection cool down a little, he was about to blow up his poor white pants. The acceptable unfair feat being that he’s just riling you up even more like that on the other hand.

„If you come to mommy now,“ you wriggle one foot in the air, the other splayed on the duvet, knee slightly bent. „Rubbing her pussy and doing your thing, you know how it goes.“

„Angel duties calling! What am I doing!“

At the speed of sound, Felix stores your phone back on the bedside table and crawls over in an instant. He props his chin on your abdomen and blinks.

„Sorry Ma’am. At your service. Never wanna keep you waiting.“

A big smile rouses his cheeks, and you boop them from either side. His peach fuzz is so soft and his eyes are so beautifully dark. You don’t waste any time keeping your skirt down for any longer. Another blink and Felix is already pawing — well, kneading and caressing technically — between your legs. He’s visibly understanding just how wet the whole finger sucking circus has left you now.

„What if I used my heels on your cock, boo. Still no cumming. Just my heels and my lil’ prince.“

Satanic plan stage number three. Felix has gotten to savor it last Christmas and for his birthday, and some time around the holidays in summer.

„I love it yay!“ Felix claps his hands. Baby, baby.

„C’mere then. Just keep on rubbing.“

His arms are fairly long enough. While you’re dragging the slender heels of either shoe right across the outlines on his crotch, Felix, eyes loosely closed, maintains a steady rhythm on your clit with three fingers lined up on the fabric of your panties.

„Oh fucking hell, Felix, shit—“

Whenever you masturbate, that alone would never do. You’d get frustrated after a while. Need more stimulation. But when Felix is on angel duty to keep your pussy soaked, it doesn’t need much to make your clit throb, even with your underwear still on. Guess that God’s little helpers know how to work their magic to make your head spin.

He’s hitting the right spot, with the right moves, and his other hand doesn’t miss out on a single opportunity to stroke at both the in- and outside of your thighs. The touch is so subtle, you twitch. Felix strokes on, delirious himself. His eyelids flutter.

„Fuck…“

Despite the little pause from earlier taking out most of his tension, your heels leave Felix with pants that are even more bulged out. That’s making it easy to direct your feet to jerk up and down at either side. You’d never know either of you would be so into this. Foot fetish and all.

Once he’s edged you to the point of moans, last thing you properly remember is calling it quits with the panties and telling him to line himself up. The heels kicked off, the skirt still on, you decide that unpacking your Halloween treat has been long overdue. You slide his pants down, roll down a pink condom, and grab his cock at the base to glide it all over your wet lips.

„Lix, come fuck me. You got me all horny. Satan is recruiting.“

„With me it’s not sinning,“ he smiles, brighter than the sun and you do right along. It’d be hard not to. Felix truly has the innocence of a virgin, the subtle confidence of an intermediate, the caution of a pro, and the kindness of a real veteran.

„You’re right about that Felix,“ you say, prop your entrance at the very tip, let the wetness do its job. „Come kiss your honey girl.“

And he does. Entering you with care for the right angle, letting your hip do the rest. What’s been circling and sucking your fingers so deliciously is now doing a hot job teasing and pleasing your tongue all over. His lips are amazingly soft and plump, they open so gently and feel electric on yours. A gentle squeeze around your left breast sparks a moan into the kiss from you. It’s Felix massaging your breasts while deepening his penetration, and you can tell the vegemite can stay under the bed today. You can tell Felix is getting more than flustered knowing it was all him who made you this dripping wet.

Even his dick seems to blush in sync. It’s fucking pink and red. Oh wait, that’s the condom. But knowing him and from your viewpoint, it’s still more flushed than before, no kidding. Faithfully pumping in and out of you at its full length now. You wrap your legs around his waist, the thrusts become deeper, shorter, parting you open much more, and filling you out so properly.

„So good. Right there, angel. Just right there. I’m loving that.“

Felix has a great dick. Best handy size, the girth’s comfortable, all nice and bendy, virtually no curve, you can always gyrate on it in any way and even take a complete 180 if you go from cowgirl to reverse (which you’d be doing right now but he’d crush his wings if he were on his back like that so no). Cherry on top, compact but soft balls that don’t steal the show but still do the trick during doggy. They’re whipping up the best cum in the world, so.

The slow kissing goes on and on and Felix tries to walk the tightrope of neither letting your pussy lips suck the orgasm out of him, nor making you cream his cock with shaky legs from all that gorgeous sloppy friction, and the kissing, and his sweet cherry shampoo scent that has your brain in absolute limbo.

With everything hanging by a thread like that, every kiss becomes special and full of a suspense that makes your lips tremble — either set, and Felix can hardly bear it himself.

His little halo is dangling back and forth, and you can tell by his face that all that thrusting has him in serious trouble. And you? Are fucking leaking and groaning, and that little shallow series of first contractions before your orgasm is already preparing you.

The sugar high from the cupcakes is fading, but your adrenaline is sure to replace it. You just want Felix to fuck you more and rock against him, and hold his head, and kiss him. God, his mouth is so warm and inviting, tastes so good like cocoa.

The pace joins yours without any effort, it adapts when your rhythm changes, and it stabilizes everything when you’re currently riding the high of his cock really filling you out so you can clench your muscles around him, feel him and tell him just you wait, I’ll milk you. He’s such a good kisser. You can feel all of your wetness running down your ass like it’s Christmas.

„Felix, I’m overflowing.“

„I’m so sorry,“ he whines into the kiss. „I’ll be washing the sheets.“

„Listen, baby,“ you break the tongue-on-tongue, „you doing laundry is really sexy. But the overflow is the best part. Just look what you’re doing to my body.“

You could ravage him on the spot. He’d probably lose it and cum in two seconds. Holding yourself before the edge is so tough right now.

„Shit… yellow again. Need a moment.“

Felix has to resort to a bit of cockwarming, and you use the little break to rid yourself off the harness. It’s not perfectly comfortable when you’re lying down. You’re about to fling it off the bed that Felix asks to wear it. Oh. Very well. It actually goes as a nice contrast on his white top, and the straps make it easy to adjust to him. And he wants it to sit on him really tightly. Oh again.

You realize—

On you, it’s only a fashion piece. Something random that came with the costume.

On him: It’s kinky.

„Hey hey. You look sexy, pum’kin,“ you pat at his chest. „Look at your waist, wow.“

Your sweet boy. It’s like it’s made for him. So cinched and the exact opposite of his costume. He’s a corrupted, dirty angel now, it’s perfect. With his pink neck and all sweaty face, and his little puppy gaze that will haunt you in your sex dreams because it literally just gets into your pants so much. Oh god, you just wanna cum. You have to distract yourself with chaste images of Felix washing the dishes or writing grocery lists with little hearts and emojis on them but that just makes it five times worse.

The way he puts the harness on with his dick inside you is so mouthwatering and cumworthy, you can’t wait to resume and switch your own brains off on that angel cock. Once Felix is ready to exit phase yellow and resume the session, your hands magically gravitate towards the straps of the harness at this waist.

„Can I?“

„M—hm!“

You have the time of your life grabbing and guiding him by the harness, controlling every thrust. Felix clenches up his teeth from how lavishly his cock is squeezing into your pussy.

„Oh babe,“ you groan out. „Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Come on, angel.“

He’s not going to take it much longer. Felix is tensing all over, neck to the knees, it’s a huge shock wave in the making. That climax is going to be like a fucking punch into outer space.

„I’m really at my limit, I’m, I’m…!“

„Cum for me, angel,“ you reach to his neck to bring his lips down again. Your mouths going into shaky contact brings a big soaring moan with it.

„Ahn—!“

You lock lips, his face scrunches up, and you can tell that cum worth of three orgasms is currently pooling into the condom. You don’t belong to the mile high club, but going by how far up this feels, you might as well be. Those sweet shivers. And the little whines. It’s all too much for him, this one got him bad. Felix cumming is like the angels really are singing. With bells and harps and all that shit at once.

After pulling out, the ruined condom goes off lightning fast. Felix’ cock gets some much-needed cooling, but his face is on heavy duty. How he does it after almost getting his lights turned off, it’s a mystery, it must have been six whole loads he shot into you. You’d already be collapsing in his shoes. Felix still being able to put his mouth to work is an act of divine intervention. Honestly though, it doesn’t even take half a minute. Sloppy head from Felix is cryptonite, your stamina comes tumbling down. His tongue just knocks you out with an overwhelming rush of pleasure.

“Oh— yes...”

What is gravity? You don’t know what north and south mean anymore. He laps and sucks you through your high and your legs give up their soldier service. All you see it fluffy blonde strands of hair peeking from below your skirt, a glimpse of the harness, the rest is heavy growling and swearing from all of the contractions and Felix getting raw and dirty Down Under with no fears, literally none, to bury his face and move it around and let his tongue loose. Time and again Felix shows you he’s a swallower. Satanic agenda: success.

For tonight, your pussy will be nothing but glitter, cum, and spit. Swollen like crazy, properly fucked, and tipped to the absolute limit. Felix keeps on slicking up his face completely, and then brings you into the afterglow with his fingers. One at a time, barely adding stimulation. Just fetching you where you are and climbing down. Looks like you’ll share the cupcakes, this is a couple hangover in the making. In Felix’ case in particular. It’s like he signed up for testing a mad scientist’s latest designer drug.

„Wow wow… So you served me choco cupcakes and God’s menu,“ is the last thing he can say in his delirium before falling over. He’s so fucked out and went so wild on eating you, a part of the harness came off. Thank god his nose is so small, all that swiping could’ve broken the bridge and whatnot. And his lips, they’re twice as plump. You really have to compliment in on what his mouth has done today because that was some champ shit.

You’re both buffering on the sheets for a solid five minutes until you roll to the side. Towel… water… forehead kisses. Yes, forehead kisses most importantly. After gathering yourself a little, you pamper Felix into a heart rate around 90 rather than 120. And with the onset of exhaustion for the two of you, that’s not too hard after some minutes passing. Whispering sweet nothings and praise is all you do up until 2 AM and after. Felix is somewhere between worlds, one foot in the door of the dreamland, the other soaking up the care and the intoxicating, thick scent of the room that has a lot of cherry shampoo in it.

At some point. You loosen the harness, pull off his shirt with the wings attached. The halo you unsuccessfully try to spot in his hair. Turns out: It flew off. Felix really must’ve made Satan proud if it fell down just like that. Good job. Felix has earned a title of being a dirty angel now, and by the way he’s chugging water now, a wet one on top of that.

Five tons of spit, six, seven, who knows how many he’s afforded for today. A head pat is not enough, it has to be several, and Felix passes out onto the pillows. As good as you can, you wipe him down, bin the condom, get off his shoes and his half-pulled down trousers. After staggering to the bathroom, your skirt and peplum shirt follows, the stockings stay on, they’re cozy as hell. Last but not least, you remove your devil horns. It feels like they granted you the most unknown demonic powers.

Next time Felix is on his way to making you cum again, you’ll be wearing them, and you’ll last the way you did tonight. Meanwhile, Bang Chan is blowing up your phone because Felix pressed send by accident earlier, but you don’t notice. It just keeps on vibrating on the bedstand and Chris will have to riddle over the rice cake selfie for the rest of November.

Felix dozes with an angelic little smile on his lips and puffs his cheeks in his sleep, his makeup wiped and his hair truly messy. Instagram can wait. Maybe you’ll get to brush your teeth a little later, it usually takes some time until you wake up again and topple to the sink. You huddle together, tuck your sweet baby pum’kin into his second favorite spot at your chest. Ah, the glory of Felix little spooning.

As the last signature, you nibble at his ear, call him your cutie pie, and switch the lights off. You have to listen closely but if you do, it’s like Felix is purring in his sleep. Whatever your own dreamland is planning to launch on you tonight, you’re looking forward to it.

PS — oh, my good ole fellas, a last cursed disclaimer. i must insist on the following for obvious reasons. vegemite makes for some terrible strap lube okay 😂🇦🇺

like my writing? donate: ko-fi

#felix x reader #sub!felix #felix smut #skz #stray kids #felix x dom!reader #skz smut #lee felix #lee felix smut #lee felix fanfic #skz fanfic #female reader #sub!skz #sub!stray kids #sub felix #sub skz #felix fic #original content #hey angel

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wanna-bee-sk1nny · 3 years ago

Text

Food bucket list

For when and if I recover and travel

Btw some of the headings are more specific than others bc I have lots of food from that specific place.

South America

Brigadeiros from Brazil

Tembleque from Puerto Rico

Asia

Mango sticky rice from Thailand

Roti Sai May from Thailand

Yakgwa from South Korea

Che ba mau (I actually had a dream about this one) from Vietnam

Singapore

McDonalds strawberry shortcake McFlurry

McDonalds mudpie McFlurry

Sourbombe artisanal donuts

Yugoslavia Bakery

Chu and Co

Creamery Botique Ice Creams

Birds of Paradise Gelato

Dessert bowl

Kaya toast

Haianese chicken rice

Oyster omlette

BBQ stingray

Nyonya Kueh from HarriAnns Nonya Table

Chendol from Cendol Geylang Serai

Ice cream block sandwich from the pushcarts with red umbrellas

Durian puffs

Satay stuff

Tekka centre

Japan

Fugu

Soufflé pancakes

Europe

Toblerone McFlurry from Denmark

Stroopwafel McFlurry from The Netherlands

Chimney cakes from Hungary

Skyr from Iceland

Syrniki from Russia

Greek yoghurt from Greece

London

Snowflake luxury gelato

Chin Chin Labs gelato

Full Vegan English breakfast from Gallery Cafe

Yogland

Mamasons Dirty Ice Cream

Blondie's Kitchen

Poptatas Fries

Wheelcake Island

Australia / Home-made

Stroopwafel - 9.5/10

Watermelon soft serve - 6/10

Ice cream cannoli - 9/10

Burgers dipped in cheese from Burger Point, Sydney

Baked custard

Pumpkin spiced latte from Starbucks

Cookie dough from Get Chunky

Doughnut Time in South Brisbane or Burleigh Heads

Daniel's Donuts in Melbourne

Matcha Mylkbar in Melbourne

California

Portillo's cake shake

A hotter-chocolate from Bombobar

Halo Top LA

Primo's donuts

Randy's donuts

Mashti Malone's Ice Cream

Wanderlust Creamery

Sushi donut from Project Poke

Crêpe cake from Lady M

Pho burrito from Komodo LA

New York

Wheel cakes from Catmint Wheel Cakes at The Queens Night Market, NY

Malaysian egg burger from The Malaysia Project at The Queens Night Market

Dominique Ansel cronuts

Mochi donuts from Alimama in NYC

Levains Bakery chocolate chip walnut cookies in NYC

Smorgasburg street food

Funnel cake ice cream sandwich from American Cut

Gnocchi stuffed sandwich from Luzzo's La Pizza Napoletana, NYC

Milk and Cream Cereal Bar

New Jersey

The side-show shake from Coney Waffle

Corn dogs from Mochinut

Frozen custard from Kohr's Frozen Custard

Canada

Queues De Castor beaver tails from the Quebec Winter Carnival

Poutine

Maple taffy from the Quebec Winter Carnival

Turkey

Baklava from Güllüoğlu

Macun candy

Simit

Chai tea

Adana kebab

Kunefe

Pide

Iskender kebab

Cağ kebab

Manisa kebab

Döner kebab

Yuvalama

Tantuni

Küşleme

Beyran

Boza

Ali Nazik kebap

Tepsi kebab

Kuru Fasulye

Pilav rice

Kaymak

Katmer (with milk)

Menemen

Midye Dolma

Cantik

Kokoretsi

Börek

Gözleme

Şambali

Dondurma

Buffalo milk with honey

Çiğ Köfte

#c🦋#c 🦋#food bucket list #food bucket lsit

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cg-cookierun · 2 years ago

Note

whats your favorite lore relating to one of your cookie run fan character

infodump pls

I HAVE MANY CHARACTERS

... ILL TLAK ABOUT THE APOCLYPTIC BEASTS BELOW THE CUT

There are four in total

Solar Flare Cookie (Can cause droughts, famines, heatwaves, and coldflashes) (He/him)

Tsunami Cookie (Can cause Natural disasters) (He/him)

Scarab Rat Cookie (Can cause Plauges) (They/them)

and Lunar Eclipse Cookie (Without her, the others cannot kill directly, this mostly goes for Scarab Rat) (She/her

Solar, Tsu, and Scarab all have their own "wards" which are cookies that they have to repersent themselves.

Lunar Eclipse doesn't have one. Because she: simply does not want one.

The current Wards are

Halo Puff Cookie for Solar (He found him sleeping on a park bench, who found who? Does it matter?) (He/him)

Raindrop Cookie for Tsu (She fell out of a cloud and landed in his soup) (She/her)

and Daffodil Cookie for Scarab (She broke them from their containment, and now they are causing a very sick revoltion. Litteraly) (She/her)

'They were contained?' I hear you asking. Well the answer to that is, they all were! Sometime after Longan Dragon Cookie went to sleep the Beasts were sealed away by The Wizards. They were freed recently in increasingly humorous ways.

An Earthquake knocked the Orb containing Solar into it and he came out looking cool

A group of kids running around knocked the Pearl containing Tsu onto the floor, where it rolled to the beach that he is residing in.

Daffodil shattered Scarab's mirror in a fit of rage caused by her sister's indifference about the people of their city.

And, for lack of a better way to explain, Lunar Eclipse woke up because of Longan's... world ending attempt.

Solar, Tsu, and Scarab all refer to Lunar Eclipse as their mother, and as such, Longan as their parent, and the other dragons as their siblings.

... oh yeah, Lunar Eclipse and Longan were in a relationship for a very long time. Lunar Eclipse ended it when she learned about Longan's little world ending plan. She is still disgusted by them. But she remains polite towards the other dragons.

Lychee is her and Longan's child. All of the other dragons call her mom.

That's all in my head for these guys rn... >:3

#death mention #solar flare cookie #tsunami cookie #scarab rat cookie #lunar eclipse cookie #cookie run oc #cookie run

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Deep Longing Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 心驰之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

More from this collection: Kiro l Victor

[ Released in CN on 24 Dec 2020 ]

The plane is currently flying steadily. I’m entirely focused on the iPad I’m holding, until the end credits of the film gradually appear.

MC: Sigh... I still find it very sweet and warm!

Finally re-watching this Northern European Christmas movie with Gavin, I’m perfectly content, rubbing his arm.

The fragrance of fresh laundry still lingers on the thick woollen sweater, blending with a familiar cool and refreshing scent.

Gavin removes his earpiece, tousling my hair.

Gavin: No wonder you like it that much. The movie is very good.

MC: Of course! It’s precisely because of this movie that I thought of spending Christmas in Northern Europe.

Pure white snow, burning firewood, colourful lights entwining everywhere, decorated Christmas trees, and streets brimming with a joyous atmosphere...

MC: I hope it’s really as interesting as in the movie.

Gavin: It will.

Gavin looks at me and the anticipation written in my eyes, his expression tender as he keeps the iPad.

“Ladies and gentleman, the plane is about to make its landing at the airport...”

We immediately straighten up, pulling the window shade up--

From high above the ground, a silvery white city embellished with a riot of fairytale-like colours enters our line of sight.

The homeland of the legendary Santa Claus is quietly awaiting us.

By the time we complete the check-in process, it’s already dusk, and the streetlights are gradually illuminated.

MC: Is the countdown event in the plaza happening at midnight?

Before coming here, I came across a local Christmas custom. Here, the most famous Christmas event is the countdown in the plaza at midnight on Christmas Eve.

Gavin: Mm, it’s still early.

MC: Why don’t we take a walk along the street first? It’s Christmas Eve, so there’s definitely lots of good fun and interesting things to see!

A hint of a smile appears on Gavin’s lips, as though he’s long since guessed that I’d say this.

Gavin: Looks like it was the right decision to make a booking at this hotel. I did some research beforehand - the liveliest local shopping street is nearby. It shouldn’t be far.

In the midst of our conversation, we’ve already pushed open the doors to the hotel lobby.

The fluttering snowflakes float around like cotton, landing softly on the snow-covered ground and the sharp roof of the lighthouse opposite.

MC: So beautiful...

Gavin and I are standing side by side, our breaths releasing puffs of white mist.

Gavin: The winter here is much colder than in Loveland City. It’s been a very long time since I’ve seen such heavy snow.

Under the eaves, yellow halos from the streetlight fall into Gavin’s amber pupils, revealing an even warmer light.

Sensing my gaze, Gavin turns his head to the side. The light and shadows outline the handsome bridge of Gavin’s straight nose.

He chuckles softly, taking my hand.

Gavin: Let’s go.

Hearing the rustling of the cold breeze at my ear, and the crunching of snow underneath my feet, a wave of excitement suddenly overflows from my heart. I can’t help but break into a jog.

Gavin: You’re that happy?

Tugging on Gavin’s hand, I nod in high spirits.

After turning at a corner, street vendors enter our line of sight from not afar off.

Tiny flickering lights intertwine in the air, hanging in front of the small stalls like waterfalls of flowing light, painting the entire street with a riot of colours.

Joyful songs drift in the night air of the city. In the midst of the bustling crowd, every face is brimming with relaxed and unrestrained smiles.

A movie-like scene unfolds before my eyes, and I feel myself becoming more light-hearted.

As though he can sense my fascination and elation, Gavin tightens his grip, his gaze lingering on my eager expression, his eyes glistening with a warm light.

Gavin: Where do you want to go first?

The fragrance of all sorts of food diffuses in the air. Taking a deep breath, I feel the gluttonous worms in my belly stirring.

Gavin: Shall we try the gingerbread cookies first? I heard the gingerbread cookies here are very famous.

I didn’t expect Gavin’s suggestion to be exactly what I was thinking. A little excited, I nod several times.

MC: We could have gingerbread cookies first, then Christmas cake, then drink the distinctive and warm red wine.... Oh yes, I heard there’s even a medieval merry-go-round that we could ride for free.

I count on my fingers, as though listing down family treasures. Suddenly a low chuckle drifts to my ears.

The moment I turn my head, Gavin’s smiling eyes directly enter my heart, and an unnatural warmth subconsciously blooms on my face.

MC: Don’t laugh at me. We’re already here, so we must definitely experience everything...

Gavin takes a step closer, helping me brush stray hairs messed up by the wind. A smile remains on his lips.

Gavin: You’re right. We must do all of these things. You might have been too busy recently, and it’s been a while since I’ve seen you looking so relaxed. It’s pretty nice.

While he speaks, he takes my hand and places it into the pocket of his coat naturally.

Gavin: The pace of life here is very slow. Today, we can take our time. We’ll complete everything you wish to experience slowly.

The nearest stall happens to be selling gingerbread cookies fresh from the oven. With an enthusiastic greeting from the owner, I purchase a bag of gingerbread cookies.

MC: These gingerbread cookies have been made so delicately...

From the bag, I take out a gingerbread cookie with a snowflake design. Bringing it to my nose, I give it a whiff. Then, I’m filled with anticipation as I take a bite -- It’s fragrant and crispy, and as delicious as expected.

While walking, I hand the bag to Gavin.

MC: Gavin, pick a piece too?

Gavin very quickly takes out a colourful Christmas elf gingerbread cookie.

Gavin: This one. It has a different design, so we can try different flavours.

MC: Sure! I didn’t think you’d actually pick such an adorable design.

Gavin lowers his head to look at the gingerbread cookie elf, then releases an incredibly soft laugh.

Gavin: It could be because... it’s smiling very happily.

Gavin: Just like you.

Although cold wind blows past by cheeks, I seem to feel a warm sensation instead. Beaming with a smile, I bring the snowflake gingerbread cookie to Gavin’s lips.

MC: Here. You said we’d try different flavours, right?

He bends down slightly, giving it a bite straight from my hand. Under the illumination of the streetlights, snowflakes land gently on Gavin’s hair.

Gavin: It has a very special taste, and also has the fragrance of ginger.

While he speaks, I feel the warmth from his lips on my fingertips, enriching the lights and the night scene.

I can’t help but sigh with emotion--

This seems to be the festival ambience I’ve wanted most.

At this moment, the bell from the plaza chimes from far away. I immediately check the time - it’s almost time to take action!

MC: Cough cough...

I clear my throat. Gavin halts in his footsteps, slightly puzzled.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Mm... it’s like this. We’ve already had good food and seen interesting things. So after this--

I deliberately pause. Looking at the crowded street market, a hint of contemplation flashes across the pair of amber eyes which are close enough to touch.

Gavin: Cough. I’ve prepared a gift for you. But you’ll have to wait for a while longer.

MC: ...eh?

Seeing that Gavin has misunderstood, you can’t help but snort with laughter.

MC: Actually, what I wanted to say was that it’s time for you to receive a surprise!

Gavin’s eyes widen slightly for a second. Then, the corners of his lips bring with them warmth and happiness.

Gavin: Do I need to do anything?

I hurriedly scan my surroundings. The “prop” that I prepared earlier is already nearby. As such, I blink slyly.

MC: All you have to do is turn around and wait for me patiently.

Readily following my instructions, Gavin smiles and turns around.

Just as I take two steps away from Gavin, I whip my head around in unease, plopping myself onto his back and peeping out at him.

MC: I’ll say it first. You must definitely not sneak a peek!

Gavin: Okay.

MC: And you must wait for me to say that you can turn around before you do so.

Gavin doesn’t respond immediately. He suddenly turns his head, reaching out to tousle my head gently as it rests on his shoulder.

Gavin: Don’t worry, take your time. I won’t sneak a peek. I can wait for as long as needed for a surprise. I’ll wait for you.

After confirming that Gavin is standing in place, I jog over to the side of the street. The young person who I’d contacted in advance is already waiting not afar off. Behind him is a small and adorable reindeer sleigh.

It’s the first time I’m seeing a reindeer sleigh, and I excitedly bend down to touch the docile reindeer, greeting it softly.

MC: You've worked hard!

With the assistance of the reindeer’s owner, I take the reindeer sleigh and the present, rushing back in a fluster. Everything is ready--

“Cling cling cling”!

Leaning next to the sleigh, I shake the bell on it, then shout loudly towards the tall and straight figure in front.

MC: Gavin, surprise!

Gavin turns around slowly. When he sees the reindeer, his eyes widen in surprise.

In the next second, an unrestrained smile is on full display. Even his eyes are coated with surprise and a glowing expression.

Satisfied, I use one hand to smoothen the red Santa hat on my head, and use the other hand to support myself lightly on the sleigh.

MC: The reindeer says that Christmas is here, and it has sent me to give you a present!

I retrieve a red coloured scarf from the sleigh, and show it off as though I'm presenting a valuable treasure.

MC: Even though it doesn’t look special at first glance, but...

I point at the picture of a golden coloured ginkgo leaf in a corner.

MC: I personally stitched this on needle by needle!

Gavin takes two steps towards me, petting the reindeer.

The colourful lights happen to fall on Gavin’s face. I can clearly see the happiness gradually glowing in his eyes.

He lowers his head, the warm colour of his eyes full of unbridled light.

Gavin: In that case, could you also personally put it on for me?

Stand on my tiptoes, I wrap the scarf around his neck seriously, and can’t help but admire it.

MC: My taste is pretty good!

I chuckle playfully. Just as I prepare to step backwards, Gavin grabs my hand.

Instinctively tilting my head upwards, what fills my vision is a face brimming with happiness and delight.

Gavin: Thank you. I really like this surprise. Not just because of this scarf.

While Gavin speaks, his fingers lace with mine, entwining them tightly. The coldness of the winter wind seems to melt into warmth because of the closeness of his breath.

Gavin: I think the reindeer brought the wrong message.

He stares fixedly at me, his clear eyes akin to the nicest colours in the snow.

Gavin: What I truly want has only been one thing from beginning to the end. Santa Claus likely heard my heartfelt wish. That’s why he sent the reindeer to bring you to my side.

Heavy snow drifts in the air, and the coloured lights flicker radiantly across the entire street market. But all the radiance can’t compare to Gavin’s smile before me.

Gavin: As for the surprise belonging to you... Look forward to it for a little longer, okay?

No matter whether I employ hard or soft tactics, Gavin refuses to disclose a single thing regarding the gift. He simply smiles and tells me to wait for a while longer.

Time passes by without us realising it, and the night has already set in. Gavin and I begin heading towards the plaza.

Along the way, I realise that quite a number of people are chatting excitedly about a “big screen”.

Although I’m aware that there would be a countdown event later, what’s this “big screen”?

As though seeing through my confusion, Gavin explains.

Gavin: The “big screen” they’re referring to should be the one in the plaza. The reason why the countdown event in the plaza is famous is because of the Christmas tree in the middle. It was originally a tree which was already growing in the plaza. Not only that - the tree is over nine hundred years old.

MC: How do you know about this so clearly?

Gavin: ...cough. I did a little research before we came.

A certain warmth and sense of contentment overflows from my heart. Quietly, I tighten my grip on Gavin’s hand.

MC: Looks like the tree carries the weight of a very ancient history.

Gavin: To the locals, this ancient Christmas tree is akin to the blessings of Santa Claus. Whenever Christmas arrives, people will decorate it diligently, and install a bell switch on its trunk. If you press the switch on the midnight of Christmas Eve, it not only heralds the arrival of Christmas, but also represents that the person who pressed it has received the greatest blessings. This is why everyone wishes to be that lucky person.

MC: ...I’ve got it! In order to be the lucky person... you’d have to be the person selected on the big screen in the plaza, right?

Gavin: That’s right.

MC: There’s only one chance in the entire year. No wonder everyone’s looking forward it.

In the midst of our conversation, we arrive at the plaza which resembles an ocean of joy, and I also witness the unique Christmas tree--

At a glance, one can’t seem to see the tip of the tall and towering Christmas tree. The sparkling and flickering star at the top is reminiscent of a brilliant light from high in the sky.

Vivid and adorable decorations and ribbons are strung in layers, filling the entire tree, giving off an especially warm appearance.

MC: It’s the first time I’m seeing such a tall Christmas tree. It’s so stunning.

Hearing my involuntary gasp of admiration, Gavin’s lips curl slightly.

Gavin: Want to sit for a while at the stall over there?

Perhaps noticing that my cheeks have taken on a reddish hue from the wind, he reaches out to tighten my collar, embracing me gently.

I shake my head repeatedly.

MC: It’s a rare trip. I want to wait for midnight with everyone. There’s also a performance beforehand - it’s so lively.

The crowd gradually grows in size, and the liquid crystal numbers on the big screen start flipping with every second--

In just a few minutes, it’d be midnight.

Happy and expectant faces appear on the big screen, and everybody waves their hands excitedly and exclaims.

Likely influenced by the surrounding atmosphere, a wave of hope rises in my heart. I whisper quietly to Gavin.

MC: Gavin... do you think we’d be that lucky?

Gavin returns my gaze, a slight yet confident smile on his lips.

Gavin: As long as you believe it, we definitely will.

Right after the words leave his lips, the image on the big screen happens to display our side profiles.

My heart is immediately lifted--

The image pauses for a few seconds, then deviates slightly, finally focusing on Gavin and I!

Staring at my somewhat silly and stunned self on the big screen, I can’t believe this at all.

MC: Gavin, we...

Gavin: Mm, it’s us.

The night breeze tangles with the ends of his hair, blowing off some light snowflakes, and making the smile on his face even more evident.

He reaches out, holding me securely.

Gavin: Let’s go.

Amidst their cheering, the crowd automatically parts to both sides, paving a small path. Gavin leads me step-by-step towards the Christmas tree while I’m still feeling slightly giddy.

When I see the ceremoniously decorated Christmas tree before me, I finally return to my senses.

Looking into the eyes which contain a smile and are so close to me, I can’t help but reach out to hug Gavin, my face full of excitement.

Accompanied with a soft chuckle, Gavin encircles me with the scarf. His unique scent burrows into my nose.

I hold onto him, nuzzling myself into his arms. Crinkling my eyes into a smile, I lift my head to look at him.

MC: Gavin, I feel so happy today... It’s like a fairytale which hasn’t been thought of before.

Gavin tightens his grip on me, and light undulates in the amber eyes staring at me.

Gavin: Looks like the mission of letting you experience a different Christmas has been completed pretty well?

MC: Not just “pretty well”! We’re basically extraordinarily lucky today!

Gavin: In that case, I’m a little luckier than you.

MC: Why?

Gavin: Because the lucky you belongs to me.

Gavin lowers his head slightly, his lips bringing with them a gentle smile, his eyes filled with seriousness.

He doesn’t seem to realise just how much the words he said can cause one to turn red in the face.

I open my mouth, wanting to cover the chaotic leaping of my heart. Before the words can come out, I once again feel Gavin’s warm breaths on my forehead.

Gavin: MC, this “biggest blessing” belongs to you. In the year ahead, you’ll have the most blessings. I wish that every day of yours will be happy and blessed. This is my Christmas gift.

My heart surges with emotions. Just as I’m about to say something, I realise something from his words--

Thinking about the surprise gift he mentioned earlier, and the confident tone he used when the big screen was sweeping across, could it be...

My eyes instantly widen.

MC: Gavin, did you...

Before I can finish, the crowd in the plaza begin the countdown, their joyous voices covering my soft exclamation.

Even so, I’ve more or less confirmed the guess in my heart.

Ba dump. Ba dump. It’s as though I can clearly hear the violent yet excited beating of my heart.

Gavin seems to be in a great mood. The corners of his lips arch upwards, and he pulls me towards the switch on the Christmas tree.

The countdown from the crowd happens to be reaching its end -- “Three, two, one!”

A second after our gentle push, a gigantic firework scuttles into the sky and blooms. Light-hearted music starts playing, loud and clear.

Beneath the tree, Gavin and I continue keeping our eyes fixed on each other, concealed by the branches.

Gavin lowers his head, his eyelashes trembling, his clear eyes reflecting my focused yet sparkling eyes.

His fingers glide down my cheek gently, leaving behind a warmth I yearn for.

Gavin: What were you going to say earlier?

I tilt my head, looking at him quietly.

After hearing my wish of spending Christmas in Northern Europe, the person before me had started planning this trip, and had given me such a great blessing...

As compared to being selected by the big screen, the person before me is the blessing that I wish to have most.

I encircle my arms around his neck, shaking my head with a smile.

MC: Gavin, Merry Christmas!

Gavin: Merry Christmas, MC.

Without realising it, I tug on his collar tightly, pressing myself to the side of his face. In an instant, all I sense is my heart being filled to the brim.

I can’t see the crowd in the surroundings, can’t see the mottled lights, nor the drifting snowflakes.

All I can see is this smiling face whose breathing melds with mine.

At this moment of undulating longing, I wish to convey all the brimming and surging emotions to him. I wish for this familiar scent to more completely encase itself around me--

Encircling Gavin tightly, I stand on my tiptoes, gently closing the distance between us...

Phone call: here

Texts: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #THERE SHOULD BE A LIMIT TO HOW CORNY A DATE CAN BE #IT'S NOT GOOD FOR MY HEART

189 notes · View notes

fearfulkittenwrites · 4 years ago

Text

“Just a normal night”

Inspired by @s-mscott - link for the art, please check it out!

Word count: 2832

Notes: HEY. THIS IS JUST BEEN SITTING ON MY FILES FOR THE LONGEST TIME AND I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT IT DKJFHAKJHAKJDFH. Anyway, it's a long time coming. The writing probs isn't as neat or as good as the latest uploads bc of that, but... idk. Hopefully it's good! I couldn't bring myself to edit it again, sorry about that. I hope you can enjoy it anyways and please go check out the artist, @s-mscott!

“Guys?” Dick asked, on his tiptoes as he rummaged through every cabinet in the huge kitchen “Hey are we out of cereal? I can’t find my Lucky Charms anywhere.”

“I think so.” Jason answered “I ate the last of the Lucky Charms last night.”

“Yep.” Tim said, popping the ‘p’ as he slid through the countertop, landing a bit behind Dick “I had the last of the frosted flakes two days ago.”

“Froot Loops?” Dick asked.

“I had those.” Duke answered “Sorry.”

“Fruity Pebbles?”

Cass raised her hand, looking at the ground.

“Reese’s Puffs?”

“I finished the box yesterday.” Damian announced, crossing his arms as he leaned against the marble sink.

“Damn.” Dick murmured and pouted as he closed the cabinet’s door “I’ve been craving cereal today.”

“We can always go get some.” Jason shrugged.

“At three in the morning?” Duke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually, four.” Jason corrected, putting up a finger “And yeah, why not? I mean, we had a hard patrol tonight, and if Dick wants some cereal, I say let’s go get some cereal.”

“It’s four in the morning, Todd.” Damian said.

“I mean, the closest Walmart is open 24/7.” Tim interfered.

“You can’t be seriously considering this, Grayson.” Damian frowned at his older brother.

“Why not? I’m not sleepy anyways.” Dick crossed his arms and shrugged.

“Yes!” Jason hissed “Late night adventures with the baby bats. Let’s roll!” He clapped his hands once, and started to walk out of the kitchen, his siblings following him to the garage.

“Oh wait!” Dick said “Let’s ring up Bruce and see if there’s anything else we need.”

“Bold of you to assume he’d know what we need.” Tim interfered.

“Yeah, well, it’s worth a shot. Plus, do any of us really want to wake up Alfred to ask him?” Dick said, taking his communicator out of his pocket and placing it in his ear “B? Have a sec?” He asked

“Nightwing. What’s wrong?” Came the answer, Batman’s raspy voice flowing through the device.

“Oh, nothing’s wrong. We’re going to take a quick trip to the supermarket, I wanted to ask if you need anything.”

“... At four in the morning?”

“Yeah. Do you need anything?”

Bruce sighed.

“We’re running out of the coffee blend that Tim likes. Alfred the cat’s favorite treats have been gone since last week, and Cass’ favorite ice cream is done. Oh, buy Duke that soda he likes, I drank the last can. Also, Jason’s cookies and that brand of chips you like, we ran out of those. Oh, and buy something with Iron in it, I’m worried that Damian might not be getting enough.”

“Like spinach?” Dick said, writing it down on his phone’s notes.

“Yeah, that’ll do. Ah, and we’re a little low on milk.”

“Okay. Will keep that in mind. Thanks B, have a nice patrol.”

“Please don’t give the papers any headlines.”

“You got it, B. Bye.”

He placed the device back on his pocket.

“Okay, there’s a lot of stuff to buy, so let’s get going. I’ll drive.”

“Shotgun!” Jason yelled.

“We’re taking the S.U.V., one of you will need to ride in the trunk.” Dick said.

“I’ll go.” Cass’ eyes twinkled. No one could understand why she was always so fascinated with the idea of riding in the trunk, but she seemed to find it fun and all of them thought that her excitement was cute.

“Alright then.” Dick smiled, ruffling her hair. Her grin grew wider, and Duke set her hair straight again before they got into the car.

“Hey, can I play my music?” Tim asked from the backseat.

“Don’t force us to listen to the atrocity Drake calls music, Grayson.” Damian complained, arms crossed “Let me play something.”

“Uh, I’d rather not listen to Mozart and Bach while we’re in the car.” Duke protested.

“It’s called classic for a reason, Thomas.”

“Doesn’t matter, bat-brat.” Jason said “I’m with him on this one. Besides, universal car rules, shotgun DJ’s.”

“Since when?” Tim asked.

“Since now.” Jason said, plugging his phone in.

“Uh, I don’t think so.” Dick took the cord from him “According to ‘Supernatural’ rules, ‘Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole’. So that’s mine.”

“No one else watches this show Dickhead!” Jason pulled the cord back.

“Doesn’t matter, because I’m older!” Dick pulled it back again.

“Age is just a number!” Tim pushed himself to the front seat and took the cord back.

“Great point Drake!” Damian pulled him back by his waist, stealing the cord from him too.

“Hey, stop with the fuss, I’m gonna crash the car!” Dick said.

“Maybe we should just play Beyoncé...” Duke suggested. The car went silent for a while.

“Okay.” Dick said “Put on ‘Single Ladies’.”

“No. ‘Halo’ is her best.” Damian complained.

“Uhm, no way? I’m playing ‘Drunk in Love’, and that’s it.” Tim shot back.

“Are you crazy? Play ‘Formation’.” Duke interfered.

“I like ‘Run the World’...” Cass said quietly from the trunk.

“Yeah, okay,” Tim murmured “We’ll play that.”

The girl smiled as the first notes from the song filled the car.

There weren’t many cars in the parking lot, which was expected. They picked up two carts, and Dick hopped inside the one Jason was pushing.

“Dude!” Duke started “You’re in your mid-twenties!”

“Leave me alone, I nearly sprained my ankle today.” Dick stuck his tongue out. No one else questioned anything beyond that. The employees simply sighed, used to the two older brothers and their antics.

“Hey Parker.” Jason greeted the nighttime security guard.

“Hey. I see you two brought the whole gang tonight.” He answered.

“Yup.” Dick smiled.

“So this is a regular thing for the two of you?” Duke asked.

“Are you really surprised, Duke?” Tim shot back.

“No. Not really.”

“Okay. First stop, Bruce said we need to get Tim’s coffee.” Dick exclaimed, looking at the list.

Jason led the way, Dick grinning like a child on the cart, Cass quietly following as she pushed their second cart, Duke making friendly conversation with her while Tim and Damian kept bickering right behind them.

“Oh, wait!” Dick held on to the metal bars “We’re right next to the cookies and Bruce said we’re out of your favorites, Jay.” He looked up.

“Alright, a little detour then.” Jason turned them around, quickly grabbing his treats “Anyone wants anything else from this aisle?”

“But... We don’t need anything else from the aisle.” Duke pointed out.

“Um, we have a billionaire’s credit card?” Tim said “Bruce won’t freak out if we buy a few extra things.”

“Uuuh, they have those koala shaped cookies!” Dick hopped out of the cart “How many do I get?”

“I want one.” Cass said.

“Chocolate or strawberries?”

“Uh… I want both.” She answered.

“Okay, one each for the lady, two strawberries for me...”

“I want a chocolate one.” Tim said.

“Me too.” Damian asked.

“Oh, just take twenty boxes, ten of each flavor.” Jason interfered, dumping them on Cass’ cart “We’ll share later.”

“Oh my God, those are expensive!” Duke said, exasperated.

“Yeah. So?” Jason shot back.

“Bruce is a billionaire, bro. He won’t mind.” Dick said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, well, it’s easy for you guys to say it. You grew up like that. It’s kinda hard to accept this when you aren’t used to having so much.” Duke answered, scratching his neck.

“Hey, I get that feeling lil’ bro.” Jason tapped his back “I spent my childhood in Gotham’s streets.”

“Yeah. I mean, I grew up in the circus. I wasn’t used to the idea of getting brand new stuff instead of asking for hand-me-downs from our friends whenever I grew out of my clothes.” Dick interfered.

“But... Just think about it like this.” Jason got closer to him “We now can get everything we couldn’t in the past.”

Duke frowned. Jason nodded encouragingly.

“That... Doesn’t help.”

“I tried.” Jason shrugged. Dick hopped back in the cart “To the coffee aisle!” He exclaimed, pushing his brother around.

“Hang on.” Tim said “This is where they leave the energy drinks. Let me take some.”

“Why do you insist on drinking this crap, Drake?” Damian scowled, reading the label in one of the cans “If you have such a death wish, jumping in front of a train is a much cheaper, quicker alternative.”

“Shut up, little devil.” Tim picked up cans from his favorite brand.

“Jason, push me a little farther down the aisle, please.” Dick asked “They keep their iced teas over there.”

“Ugh, Grayson, you disgust me.” Damian rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be so judgemental Lil’ D.” He smiled, being pushed away by Jason.

As they examined the cans, Dick noticed he had attracted the looks of a middle aged man, a couple of steps from them. He was staring at his hoodie, that contained the frase ‘I love dick’ printed on it.

“Oh,” He exclaimed, smiling at the guy “My name is Richard. That’s why it’s funny.” The man nodded “I’m also queer as fuck, so that makes it better.” He added nonchalantly, and the man’s eyes widened “Okay Jay, I picked up all I wanted, let’s go back.”

“Alright you little shits, back to the coffee quest.” Jason said, leading the way once again. This time, they finally made it to the coffee aisle. Tim crouched down, looking for his favorite blend.

Cass got a little curious once she laid eyes on a colorful package on the top shelf. She picked it up and handed it to Dick.

“Read. Please.”

“This is an espresso roast. Here it says that it has notes of strawberry? Vanilla and... Sugar cane. Colombian coffee. Seems nice. Wanna take it?”

“Yes.” She nodded. Dick dropped it on his cart.

Cass wandered away, still looking at all of the coffee blends.

“Hey girlie,” A guy whistled at her, next to his group of friends “Nice ass.”

She squinted at them.

“Yo, asshole!” Tim screamed, getting their attention “That’s our sister!” He threw a bag of coffee beans at the guy’s face, causing his nose to bleed.

“Hey, who do you think you are?” One of them started to walk up to her brothers. Cass could tell that he wanted trouble, so she grabbed his arm and slammed his face against the shelf, so quickly and brutally that it barely budged, leaving the products unbothered, but the guy fell to the floor, disoriented. She stared at him.

“We are Waynes.” Damian answered, pacing towards them quietly, hands on his pockets “I suggest you apologize immediately for the troubles, if you wouldn’t want to get a hefty lawsuit for your harrasment.”

“Uh, sorry bro.” One of them started, a little scared “We didn’t-”

“Not to me.” He interrupted “To her.”

“We’re sorry, miss Wayne.” All of them mumbled.

“Now promise you won’t do it again.” Damian added.

“We won’t do it again.” They started at the floor, next to where their fallen friend laid down.

“Good.” He squinted “Help your friend up, and get out of my sight.”

They did as they were told, helping his friend walk straight again. As Cass headed back, Dick gently touched her arm, looking up at her.

“Hey, are you alright?” She smiled and gave him a thumbs up. He smiled back.

“Does this happen often?” Jason asked.

“Sometimes.” She shrugged “But they always say sorry after I break their nose.”

“Ayy, that’s our girl.” Jason praised “Alright, we got the coffee. Where to next?”

“Let’s see... Next item is Alfred the cat’s treats.” Dick said.

“Ha!” Damian laughed loudly “As if Alfred would eat the... peasant treats that this store offers. No. I’ve already bought the adequate brand from an online shop.”

“Okay...” Dick raised an eyebrow “Then... Cass’ ice cream is next, but I think we should leave that as the last item, so it won’t melt, which leads us to Duke’s soda because Bruce had the last can.”

“Let’s go then. I think that the cereal aisle is on the way, so we’ll get that first.” Jason said, pushing the cart around again.

“Which ones do we get?” Tim asked, looking through the shelf.

“Everything that has sugar.” Dick answered. His brother began handing him boxes, when they heard a small whisper.

“Oh my God, are those...?” A girl said to her friend, attracting the eyes of the siblings. The duo averted their gaze quickly. Cass frowned at them.

“Relax.” Jason smiled, placing an arm on her back “They’re probably just... Fans.”

“Fans?” She asked, still staring suspiciously at them.

“Yeah.” Dick shrugged “I mean, we’re not super stars, but we do hit the papers pretty often. A bunch of people know us here in Gotham.” The girls were looking again, and Dick gave them a small wave, making them giggle “See? Nothing to worry about.”

“Hum.”

“Hey there, ladies.” Jason greeted, a cheeky smile on his face “What brings you to this fine establishment tonight?”

“We ran out of energy drinks.” One of them answered “What about you?”

“Cereal.” Dick answered, lifting two boxes. They giggled again.

“Hey, um... can we maybe get a picture?” The girl asked “It’s just that... no one will believe us when we tell them about this.”

“Absolutely not!” Damian answered.

“Nah, don’t listen to the little brat.” Jason said “Go ahead.”

Dick held up the boxes again, smiling as Jason made a ‘crazy’ motion with his hands. Tim turned around as the photo was being taken, turning him into a blurr with tired eyes.

“Can we get some selfies too?” The other one asked, grinning.

“No!” Damian protested again.

“Of course you can!” Dick said “Duke, Cass, come here.” He called.

All of them gathered around the cart Dick was staying at, even Damian. He didn’t look so pleased as the photo was taken, but neither did Cass.

“Thanks. You guys really are nice.” The first girl said.

“Oh, you have no clue on how nice I can be.” Jason winked, making her blush “Tell you what, why don’t I give you my phone number and you can text me those pictures later, hm?”

“Sure.” The girl bit her lips as Jason scribbled his number on her wrist.

“You are such a flirt.” Dick rolled his eyes as the girls walked away.

“What, like you aren’t?” Jason snorted, pushing him away, looking for where they kept the soda.

“I think Cass didn’t like that interaction very much.” Tim whispered to his older brothers, who turned around to find a frowning baby bat. Jason chuckled.

“What’s wrong, sis?” She scowled at him “Oh, c’mon, don’t get jealous.” He threw an arm around her shoulder “You know you’ll always be our number one girl, but a guy has his needs. And sometimes, a guy needs a date.”

Cass pushed him away, rolling her eyes as Duke placed five soda cans on her cart.

“Why would you even drink this sugar filled monstrosity, Thomas?” Damian asked, reading the labels “Grandfather wouldn’t even feed his prisoners something as revolting as this.”

“Because, Bat-brat,” He said “We’re all entitled to enjoy at least one or two things that may ultimately be responsible for our deaths.”

“I suppose.” He murmured, lifting an eyebrow “You make much finer points than the rest of them. Father has been looking for heirs in the least suitable places, I assume.” He clicked his tongue “It’s a good thing I’m here to help.”

“Okay...” Duke answered, raising his eyebrows and averting his gaze. There was only so much strangeness that he could handle.

“Great, now we need to get my chips and spinach.” Dick stated.

“Spinach?” Tim asked “Why spinach?”

“B thinks Damian may have been needing more iron in his diet.” Dick shrugged.

“Aaw.” Tim said “That’s actually kinda cute. Do you think he ever worries about our diets?”

“Don’t be stupid Tim, of course he doesn’t.” Jason answered.

“He does.” Dick shot back “He worries about us, he just... Really, really, really, reaaaally sucks at showing it sometimes.”

“Potatoe, potatoe.” Jason murmured.

“Yeah, whatever. Keep me moving Little Wing, we have stuff to pick up and my tiredness is catching up to me.” Dick pointed forward.

“Sure. But the chips are in the opposite direction.”

“Well turn me around then, do you want me to look like an idiot?” Dick said, a little exasperated.

“I wish you had an off button sometimes.” Jason sighed as he made his way to the chips section.

An employee, mopping the floor with a bored expression, looked up from what he was doing when he saw the Wayne gang talking loudly. Dick tried to control his brothers from inside the cart, and had just told Jason to separate a fight between Tim and Damian. Duke and Cass snicker as they saw a bored, six feet tall Jason pushing his much smaller brothers apart.

“Yep.” The employee murmured to himself “Billionaires shopping at Walmart at four in the morning. Just a normal night.”

Hey! If you made it this far, please consider reblogging this? It helps with spreading my fics and it makes me very happy, hahahaha!

Regardless, thanks for reading <3

#batfamily #BatFam #Batbrothers #batsiblings #fanfiction

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partyinthemysterymachine · 4 years ago

Text

The Wendy’s Secret Menu

Cheryl isn’t very ladylike. She slouches on the other side of the old, sunken-in leather bench seat: an original part of the blue, vintage pickup truck. The dashboard is scuffed and dirty where she’s put her mismatched, socked feet (one cartoon zombies, the other made to look like a shark is devouring her leg - gifts from dad). Her happily wobbling knees are so close to her face that they could knock the sweating cup of chocolate frosty right out of her hand if she doesn’t pay enough attention.

And so what? It’s not like it hasn’t happened before, like, so many times.

She’s a Mason, and as a Mason, she has an uncanny knack for tempting fate and patience. So to the beat of the music she rocks her body to and fro, making the bench seat squeak and the truck bounce a second off rhythm. The music is what she and her dad both enjoy (for the most part; he’s come around to some of these songs), though it always looks like she loves it way more than he does. That’s fine by her; she can muster enough enthusiasm for stadium full of stoic duds. As the song reaches the second chorus, she scoops a dripping helping of melting soft serve and soggy, splitting french fries - her favorite.

Cheryl’s hand-eye coordination took an unauthorized smoke break. Her feet hit the floor as she immediately sits up, trying to wipe the mess off an undershot bite from her face.

“Aw, fuck!” she whines, dejectedly accepting a wad of too-thin napkins to sponge her mouth. Dabbing her t-shirt proclaiming that she made it out of the corn maze at the Vermont State Faire back in 2016 was an honorable effort, but was no match for shitty fast food napkins. This was a job for the washing machine. This thing is a prize well earned! A future family heirloom! “Noo, come ooonnnnn.. get ouuuuut! UGH! My life is such a fucking mess,” she complains at her chest to the sound of soft chuckling.

“Do you eat, or just read about it?” Cheryl throws the speaker a glare. “Heh, I was waiting for that,” a young man’s (not very young anymore; much younger than his husband, much older than his daughter, and there are lines where there weren’t even five years ago) voice tells her. She exudes maturity as she mockingly wiggles her head and parrots him under her breath.

“Okay, well, excuse me, prophet,” she says, shoving the used napkins into the paper bag between them. “What, you couldn’t warn me?”

“Mmm.. nope. Then you wouldn’t have been taught a lesson,” James replies, stirring the mash of chocolate and potato in his own cup. “I thought I raised you on how to learn from your mistakes.”

“Yeah, well clearly—“

“Clearly you haven’t learned a thing,” he interrupts, smirking into the dessert somewhat haughtily, “because if you’re gonna be good at anything, sweetheart, making mistakes is what’s gonna make you the most successful.”

“Okay, but whose fault is that?” The unruly teenager scrunches her nose right into James’s ear as she noisily plunges her hand into a second, grease-spotted bag and spends way too much effort grabbing for cooling fries. “Huh? Whose fault is that, James? Huh? Huh? Huh, dad?”

One of the joys of this world is that even after ten years, James gets a dumb little smile when she calls him ‘dad.’ She used to call him daddy; she used to call them both daddy. Modern times call for modern changes, so she has a wealth of synonyms to use for addressing her parents, but nothing hits quite like ‘dad’.

Just so he doesn’t get any ideas about her being soft, she blows a puff of air at his cheek and plops back into her sunken spot. Cheryl releases the handful of salty french fries into her traitorous frosty cup to the sound of her dad’s soft laughter. She picks up any stragglers dropped on her chest and munches on them while she beats the fries down in the dessert with the black, plastic spoon like a milkmaid churning butter. Noisily sucking the salt from her fingertips, she can feel the blond man’s eyes on her.

(Sun-kissed, spun from an angel’s golden halo, sunshine wheat field - that’s how her daddy describes James’s hair; yet within the past couple years, silver threads have come to lay amongst the golden. They look nice, and they make her think about things she already stresses too much about.)

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Cheryl sasses, looking at him sidelong and stuffing her face with savory and sweet. James’s eyes go soft, but the trouble remains on the smirk spread on his lips.

“No way. You broke my camera last time.”

“It’s not my fault technology can’t handle a visage so holy and unattainable to mortal men,” she cockily replies. Then, there’s a prolonged, dramatic sigh. “Ohhh, whatever, dad. Maybe we just go back to the old days and get paintings done of us. Yeah, let’s do that. Let’s spend thousands of dollars and wait two years for someone to paint us a family portrai..”

Cheryl whips her head to James. He raises his eyebrows back at her; his smirk has been traded for a smile warm and loving. “Dad,” she starts urgently, “we have to get a huge oil painting of us done. We have to. This is serious, I’m so serious right now. I’m not even joking a little.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“Uh, hello?” She regards her father (who smells of grease and turpentine, metal, smoke (smells that would make most people nauseous, but not she) and a little bit like Harry (who falls asleep with his face pressed to James’s neck)) like he’s the idiot he is. “Prestige? Fame? Our souls getting caught in it and being passed around as a super haunted painting and we can go around fucking up people’s houses and rearranging their furniture together for the rest of our lives? So we can look like totally rich assholes? Because our egos are as big as my dick?”

James squints at her then. “Mmm. I think our egos are bigger than that. You had me at ‘haunted painting,’ but lost me at the end, there.”

“Pft, okay, didn’t realize we had an ego-dick connoisseur here.”

“Your dad taught me some th—“

“Oh, no!” she cuts off, shoving her fist and extended index finger into his face. “No! Nnno. Nuh uh, I’m not gonna hear about—“

“—ngS ABOUT EGO,” the mechanic continues, matching the volume of Cheryl’s chant trying to drown him out. “Because I’m pretty sure his ego would be big enough to get a painting doaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA—“

Now they’re just holding out one tuneless vowel together, a battle of wills and lung capacity (may the best set win). The Masons are a stubborn people and stubbornness makes the voices crackle and strain as their organ balloons deflate to uselessness. Cheryl flings her head back to face the ceiling, pulls in a ridiculously showy breath, and picks up from where she left off, her energy restored.

It’s hard to warble when another person is doing the same right up in one’s cookies. She starts to laugh with James so close and monotone-yelling at her, but she has an image to uphold. Retaliation comes in first pushing his shoulder, then shoving her palm right against his nose to keep him back while she performs her dominating solo for the truck and all its machinery.

“EW!” Cheryl jumps back into the corner of the door, revulsion pinpointed at her hand. She frantically scrubs her palm on her jeans, whining pathetically. “Daaa-aaaaaddddd, groooossss! Eww, don’t lick me!”

“Don’t put your hand in my face,” he retorts. His daughter huffs and shoves her feet into the side of James’s thigh, making herself comfortable across the old leather, and thus a much easier way to harass her father.

“Well, don’t talk about gross stuff.”

“I wasn’t talking about gross stuff. I was talking about Harry’s ego.”

“Yeee-AH!” Cheryl stresses. “That’s what I said: I said, don’t talk about gross stuff! GOD,” she laments, giving her almost entirely melted stew a sarcastic, wide-eyed stare. “Nyeeheh, I’m James, I like to talk about gross stuff because I think It’s funny to torture—“

“I think we should seriously talk about getting that painting done,” says the owner of this beaten down and beloved blue truck. “We’ll get it as big as a mortgage allows. We’ll have nowhere to put it and it’s going to be the start of our financial ruin.”

Pursing her lips, Cheryl glances up at him and the beginnings of such a captivating pitch. “Hmm.. go on..”

Three pats on the tops of her feet make her smile. “We’ll get it started before you go off to college, and when you visit, we can get more done.” Green eyes glance at her. “Every time we go to sit for it, we’ve changed a little bit each time.”

Slowly, the plastic spoon scrapes the sides of an empty cup and scratch contemplatively at remnants that aren’t truly there. “Hmm.. I like the sound of that. So that it takes a long time to be painted, and as we change, the artist has to alter us more and more.. never truly finishing the painting.. which means we might never even have it, but..”

“But since it took so long, we’ve been in that painting as different people for years,” James explains. “And it’s sat untouched for so much time, too. And what if one of us dies before—“

“Which you won’t.”

“—it’s anywhere near done; then it means that that one is still alive, as they were, in the painting. You could even say that’s the first haunting.”

Their eyes meet.

Ten years ago, Cheryl Mason was seven. She spotted a sad-looking blue pickup truck in the driveway one morning and her daddy lied to her that a neighbor was parking it there for a short spell. None of their neighbors had a car like that, and he knew that she knew.

Maybe a handful of days later, she met the man who owned that truck. Daddy told her he was dating a man, and it was important that they liked each other. She thought he looked young, and he looked at her like she could devour him alive. The first night was test, and this guy passed with flying colors.

The second month was a test, too. So was him dropping her off at school for the first time, and picking her up; when the school stopped him after the fifth drop off/pick up to ask who he was and what he was doing with Harry Mason’s daughter, and oh, the delicate mess to clean up there; when a lady at the park shouted at her son to stop playing with her, and made her cry because she didn’t understand why that lady was yelling at her parents - they were doing nothing wrong! - and James took her into his lap, cradling her, and calmed her down (and she found he smelled of turpentine, grease, metal, smoke, and oil, and a little bit like her daddy); playing Katamari Damacy on a Sunday morning after she begged him to get out of bed and come play, and he did, sleepily, but soon woke up and was laughing with her; and

Toluca Lake.

the time she disobeyed her fathers (officially, legally three Masons in this family; officially, legally two men to raise her) and ate all her Halloween candy in one night to prove a point - the point being that they were right, and James sat with her while Harry started the wash; taking her to a play; to her activities; trips to

Silent Hill.

faires and parks; her dads didn’t (don’t) like hospitals or clinics, but she didn’t even know until she was thirteen because they hid it for her all these years; let her scream and cry at him because he knew, even better than Harry, how to handle her pain, and so held her while she sobbed herself exhausted, since James never truly needed words to speak; the pride in his eyes; the love he had; how he defended her (and scared her, really) against a boy who didn’t understand ‘no’ (but she was glad it was him, because she was even more scared of what daddy could have done, for the way his face changed when he heard..); taught her how to drive; hung out in comfortable silence, and all through the ten years, ten years of absconding to Wendy’s behind Harry’s back to eat fries in a chocolate frosty.

Cheryl gently kicks him three times. (“Three squeezes, or taps, or whatever,” Harry told her. “It’s an easy way to say ‘I love you’ whenever you want to.” So she drummed her palms three times on his aging face, and beamed so bright when he laughed.) “You might have something there. Dark, though.”

James glances down, then at her. “Isn’t it supposed to be?”

“Yeah, duh.” She drops the bare cup into the bag. “I like it. Good lead up. Good lore. Not bad, pops.”

Cheryl smiles at that smile.

“Thanks, Cher.”

A new song begins on the gritty little cassette mixtape that the sole Mason heir painstakingly (while grousing at her middle-aged father about how dumb and time consuming this ancient ritual of appreciation is) strung together. For being a mechanic, James’s radio could really use some good ol’ fashioned TLC - and if he dared to do even think about fixing it up, Cheryl would have an honest-to-god fit. Nothing would sound right; all the old memories and those in the process of making would feel different. James’s radio sucks, and she knew all three of them wouldn’t have it any other way.

Her foot keeps rhythm on his thigh and his fingers match it on the windowsill. This is a bittersweet song. It promises eternity. Cheryl felt a little odd putting this on the playlist, but she couldn’t leave it off. (“It reminds me of you and dad,” she justified. “You’ll get what I mean.”) When she hears it, she gets that happy-sad feeling that everyone in the world seems to have had at least once in their life. A small, apologetic but loving smile indents her cheeks at the sight of James disappearing into thought. He’s probably thinking about an angel.

She used to roll her eyes at it, but on hot summer nights, she’s outside in the dark, looking for an orange firefly in the grass.

When they get home, Cheryl lingers in the foyer. They have a beautiful home. The three of them picked this one out, and it was the second one they were shown. Natural light pours in through a spacious, open-air floor plan. A skylight overhead illuminates, draws colors out to their raw excellence, bathes their comings and goings in halos from the sun and moon. Cheryl can hear the author hard at work at the piano instead of his computer from the living room quiet, and in the kitchen, the mechanic’s radio softly playing a hazy tune while he’s elbow deep in his truck’s guts.

From the second floor balcony, when she can’t sleep and sees the flickering glow from the muted TV, she can stop and listen to Harry make James laugh, though she can barely hear what he says. Once she woke up in the middle of the night and decided she wanted to polish off those leftovers, but never made it to the foot of the stairs. She hid behind the railing, peeking through the carved wood at a sight that instantly welled her eyes with tears.

Watching the two men lazily slow dancing together like a couple at prom, Harry’s arms around James’s shoulders, James grasping his back and their foreheads touching, and the sing-talk style the patriarch was known for asking his husband about sins and love, Cheryl realized she saw an angel and a firefly.

She’d cried so hard into her pillow.

She watches her adoptive father - the second one to adopt her, much younger than the first, whose green eyes inspired so many pieces of their home decor - hang the keys on the kitchen wall, then begin to backtrack to head into the living room. He pauses, a light, questioning frown creasing his dark brows. “Hey, kiddo. You okay?”

Her hesitation only intensifies his worry. James approach, his face falls as his daughter buries her face in his chest and clutches him tight. His arms are lean, but they’re strong and warm around her, and his gnarled hand gentle in her hair. With him she sways, the pressure of a kiss atop her head, and then the weight of his head when he sets his cheek over that kiss.

James is the quiet parent. He doesn’t talk a lot. Verbal communication is not one of his strong suits, even after.. well.. she can’t remember what that was, exactly. So rather, the better way to swing it is: even after all this time, verbal communication isn’t one of his strong suits. But James says a lot when he has his arms around her. It’s really wonderful to hear his voice out loud, but there’s nothing like the way she hears him talk in the best way he knows.

Cheryl locks her arms around James Mason. He smells of turpentine, grease, metal, smoke and oil, and the man he married. She squeezes him harder, and his arms clasp her tighter. He rubs her back, and she finally lifts her head and looks up at man whose features are beginning to age. There’s a smile for her, and so she gives him one, too.

Today is probably one of her favorite holidays out of the year. At breakfast she announced that for the tenth year in a row, upon their honored, Hallmark-dependent day, their gift is: her. Cheryl basked in the golf claps and lavish praise from both of them. Oh, they were so grateful; yes, she knows. They need nothing else, she’s the greatest gift they could ever receive (though a Starbucks gift card wouldn’t go amiss); yes, she knows (no, dad, you’re getting Dunkin’ Donuts and you’re gonna like it). It’s all tradition at this point. The breakfast shenanigans is tradition, and how they spend the day is tradition.

For some reason, their tradition has felt more meaningful the past few years.

She smiles wider. James does too, and even chuckles softly and musses up her hair. He leaves another kiss on her forehead, and before he gets ideas about letting her go, Cheryl says, “Happy Father’s Day. You’re pretty okay. Sometimes I like you more than the other guy.”

James lights up the foyer with his laughter. Cheryl grins up at him, treasuring that look he gets that will never, ever get old. Take a picture, it’ll last longer. Cli-click.

When he’s looking at her again, the mirth still creasing his eyes, his daughter hugs him tighter. “I love you, dad.”

James Mason, formerly Sunderland, dips his head to this precious girl’s shoulder and hugs her so tight (his little girl, their little girl; she cried when they married at the courthouse, she hates her vegetables, likes to play word ping-pong, trusted him with secrets that Harry still doesn’t know, calls him dad, trusted him, trusts him, trusted him, trusts him - loved him, loves him - proclaims she’s the greatest gift they’ll ever receive and she’s goddamn right every single year.

“I love you too, Cher.”

“I’m really glad you and dad got married.” He squeezes her tighter; his head presses harder into her shoulder. “You’re the best thing to happen to us.”

Her father is made of amber and stars, so Harry says; they’ve been wandering the earth forever looking for each other, and Harry held him once on a summer night in a jar, in his hands, and then he let him go. He was meant to be with them, Harry told her, and there’s a perpetual sadness in those lake green eyes but don’t worry: he loves us. He doesn’t always say it traditionally, the older man had said softly. So listen to him, because by god, Cheryl - he needs to be heard, and we’ll listen.

Cheryl’s smile trembles with incoming tears, and she closes her eyes and holds her father close. He doesn’t utter a sound, and she can hear everything he’s saying, loud and clear. He squeezes her one - two - three. She laughs weakly and locks her arms around his back. One - two - three.

She hopes James can listen, and hear her, too, but in case he missed it, she’ll say it as many times, and as many ways, as she can:

“We love you too, James.”

One.

Two.

Three.

#ches writes #harry mason #james sunderland #cheryl mason #silent hill #silent hill 2 #a&s - but make it an au #(because i'm not telling theo how the sh arc ends :3c)#anyway this is a&s #i was supposed to write and finish it for father's day but you know what?#you can't rush art #except when you're making the rules #anyway!!!!!!#i have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings about dad James #so #roundhouse kicks this out into the world #stubs my toes in the process #hobbles away crying about multiple things but definitely the stubbed toes

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cchexmex · 4 years ago

Text

Kotalblack stuff, dudes need an easy bake oven. Warning: it’s a long one. Fluffy sleepy fluff.

“Cheese cake, brownies… god-those cookies we made last week were awful…”

“Awful?” Kotal's shouted voice was muffled from inside that bathroom, shadows moving through soft lantern light-hazy orange leaking onto the dark bare floors.

“Yeah… and how many did you put away?” Erron grumbled through a tired curtain of sleep, pushing it away with a long stretch as Kotal left the bathroom and shut the door softly behind him. “Hold up… I counted…” Kotal rolled his eyes and let out a low sigh, sides of his cheeks creasing with a grin. “Five trays… that was all you, Captain.” He mentioned with a hand held up, returning Kotal’s grin with one of his own as he tracked the man’s movements. Kotal wandered around the room-bare feet hitting the floor as he made his way towards a dimly lit corner. He raised a hand up and waved Erron off, a soft chuckle leaving him and he bent down and plucked a book from the lowest shelves of a bookcase. Erron hummed, watching him-taking in the muscles tensing and relaxing in his back as he stood up again. Appreciating how the soft lantern light cast the curves and dips of his broad shoulders into warm focus-edges melted away into dark pitch as he moved further away from the light cast into the room.

“All me…” Kotal repeated with a tutting of his tongue, skimming through the book in hand with a focused downcast gaze.

“Okay… maybe they weren’t all that awful. Guess I had a couple…” Erron admitted, shrugging his shoulders as he sat up in bed, the sheets moving and bunching up under his legs-thin and airy fabric touching against the sweat that grew on the backs of his knees. He kicked his feet out, staring down at his stomach as the sound of Kotal muttering to himself led him hand in hand down a path of dwindling conciseness. The light was stronger around him, around the bed, a halo of brighter light that the hairs on his chest and stomach reflected, making them shine blonde. He stared at the slow rise and fall of his stomach, focusing on the warmth that billowed and pulled in his gut-heavy weights dragging down his eyelids. He yawned and shut his eyes, pushing back and making himself even more comfortable against the bed.

Kotal hummed, flipping through the book for a moment before closing it and setting it back nestled between the others “a couple trays… have you fallen asleep?” he picked out a book beside the one he set away, smiling to himself as he brushed a hand against stiff paper.

“Neither here nor there...”

“Wonderful…” Watching him move closer to the bed, Erron slumped further against the pillows propping him up, letting his head roll to the side as Kotal motioned for him to move with the book in hand “you had yet to begin your nightly serenade, so I was curious…” Kotal chuckled, climbing onto the bed and crawling towards Erron, lower lip bitten in a curious smile.

Cheeks burning, a spread of heat he could feel blossom into his neck-Erron groaned and shuffled over on the bed, making room for Kotal’s larger frame as he settled down beside him with a low moan. “Holding off on the serenading for now, gotta keep my man wanting…” he licked his lips, smirking gently as he tried to prop himself up on an elbow, Kotal still adjusting beside him-flipping through the book with a pinched brow.

“Don’t keep me wanting for too long, you need your rest…” Kotal thumbed through yellowed pages, frowning at the small text.

“Bubba, I’m fine. Could stay up all night if I wanted to. If we wanted to...” Erron offered up with a grin that fell easily, cheeks patchy and eyes narrowing. The tiredness he felt in him doubling, the heat that Kotal radiated lulling him further into a sleep he tried harder to push away. He ran a hand over to Kotal’s stomach, pushing against him before dragging up.

“Erron...”

“Ko-wha… what book is that?” The book appeared familiar to him-he thought about when he’d seen it last, the font on white once shiney paper tickling the memories.

“The baking bible… the cover is missing… because of the incident.” Kotal responded casually, his eyes drifting over to search Erron’s face, Erron groaning roughly in response and shuffling closer against Kotal’s shoulder.

“Oh hun, no-it was fine… could’ve just dusted off the burnt parts…”

“My love… dusted off the “burnt parts” from ashes?”

“Damn… that’s what you get for sticking it in the oven…”

“Near the oven, it was not inside…“ words bursting out though a deep laugh, making Erron smile and bury further against him-he followed Kotal’s shifting as he turned to lay on his side. Sighing against Kotal’s neck, he felt him take in a deep breath-pressure against his hand where he had it resting on Kotal’s stomach.

“You’re learning though… you could burn a hundred cookbooks… wouldn’t matter at all…” hot skin against his lips, Erron sighed again-eyes fluttering shut as he whispered against Kotal’s neck, Kotal responded with a soft chuckle-lowering his hand and finding Erron’s, squeezing hard against fingers and swollen knuckles. The touch, electric and soothing-sending a tingle of happy nerves throughout his arms and straight to his neck. Hands and fingers, outstretched and clasping. His heat chasing away the aches in Erron’s knuckles, the inevitable swelling of joints-the locking up from carpal tunnel that he’d kept to himself as best as he could for the past year. Though he had known he couldn’t keep it from Kotal for long. Erron squeezed back, receiving the pressure in turn to a lesser degree. Something they’d settled into, a game of sorts, a pattern of stronger touches chased by softer, switching off once one of them drifted fingers near-ghosted, over calloused skin.

“After all we’ve learned I’m thankful we’ve yet to completely damage our private quarters...”

“Hmm, yet...”

“This one?”

“Shit, don’t know where my glasses are…” he knew they were somewhere in the room, maybe in the bathroom, or in a jacket he tossed into a closet. Not that he even wanted to get up, feeling more than content and limbs turning into warm lead, wanting to stay put and just hold the man beside him. “Read it to me?”

“Cherry snowballs… we would need to find a substitute for the cherries…”

“Oh, got no clue what's similar. It’s regular cherries?”

“Maraschino…”

“Shit… we’ll have to do some trial runs of what we can stick inside.” He ran through a few options in his mind, the thoughts refusing to stick as he rubbed his face against the back of Kotal’s neck, his warmth buzzing with energy. “Don’t really like those maraschinos anyhow…” A yawn half muffled his words, breathing hot against Kotal, Kotal reached back a hand-stroking his fingers gently down Erron’s side, drifting softer when he reached the fabric of his boxer shorts. Erron followed, settling his hand on top of Kotal’s-listening to the slow and steady intake of breath as he guided Kotal towards the waistband.

“What we can stick inside?”

“Shhhh…” Erron stifled a laugh, stomach shaking with the jitters as he hugged Kootal and pushed into him, as close as possible-Kotal responding eagerly, his laughter bursting out as he pushed back into Erron.

“We will figure it out, tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow…” Kotal muttered in agreement, pulling away from Erron and closing the book gently, setting it on the nightstand beside him with an outstretched hand “are you tired?”

“Only a little… why?” Little flourishes of arousal twisting in his gut-Erron sat up with a grunt, eyes finding Kotal’s. Kotal shrugged, laying back with a long stretch before letting his legs drape over Erron’s, his gaze growing soft for a moment before his face darkened, focus and heat. Lips curling, a lopsided smirk quickly sprang onto Kotal’s face-Erron tossed his head back, swallowing down a laugh, always easily caught in his teased remarks. Moving closer into him, Erron wet his lips and dipped his face down, blowing a soft puff of air over Kotal’s mouth.

#kotalblack #erron black #kotal kahn #cherry snowballs are da bomb #cw: food mention

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