#i just think forks aesthetic

[echo-echo31]

Can't believe you lost my sfw prompt request smh in cri /lh

Anyway

Perhemps

Murdock/Reader afab/fem pronouns

SOFT LOSERS YOUR HONOR

Mayhemps the losers going for a walk in the woods. Just a little outing/date together walking the trails. Spending time together? With a murder man? More likely than you think.

warnings: none apply :)

The smell of damp bark makes Murdock close his eyes for a second, something he doesn't usually allow himself to do outside his own bedroom.

Now though, he feels a type of serenity wash over him gently. These are his woods, surrounding his cabin, and there's not much that would be able to sneak up on him here. At least, not without him being delightfully prepared for it.

As if anything could surprise him here, let alone you.

He can't help the twitch of a grin curling his upper lip just before you playfully wrap your arms around his waist. Your laugh is light and intoxicating, as if you don't know what a bad idea it is to try and jumpscare a man like him.

"Careful, little fawn. It's dangerous to play games in the woods," He warns, but not without amusement dancing on his lips.

"And what exactly is gonna get me in the woods, huh? The big bad wolf," You put on a mocking scary voice, but he can see your eyes now you've stepped beside him. Your eyes never fail to betray your emotions.

"I told you to wear gloves," Murdock states, eyeing your small, pale hands exposed to the misty air.

"And I told you I don't need them," You respond, despite tucking your fingers further into your jumper even as you speak.

He smiles, your smile, before continuing on your morning walk. As if trying to act casually, you look up at the canopy of evergreen leaves whilst strolling to match his pace.

A few seconds and Murdock brushes his gloved hand against yours and suddenly you're enveloped in the warm, soft leather. He sees you shudder slightly at the change in temperature, your hands looking so very fragile in his.

He doesn't say anything, but there's a fire that's warming in his chest.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

The inclusion of the forked greatsword in Elden Ring is so funny because it's just a worse flamberge and in dark souls 3 the imps just. Used flamberges.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Suburban Legends

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: fernando alonso x wife!reader

♥ synopsis: for your husband's birthday you decided to gather the help of the grid in order to create the perfect surprise party.

♥ smau + written - fc: amanda seyfried and girls on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing, mentions of liquoir, and some suggestive-ish jokes !!!

♥ a/n: here's a fernando fic for his birthday! (even though it's already passed by now) tysm to the anon that requested this! I will also be toying with the way I format my fics because much like hobie brown I don't believe in consistency lol. if you want more fernando x wife!reader fics @theyluvkarolina put out one earlier this week and you should go show her some love <3

-Belgium 2024-

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 1,183,502 more

yn.alonso belgique with nando and our girls <3

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user1 why is her ten year old more aesthetic than me

user7 fanciest family ever

user3 wish I was there

user6 nando looks SO fine

user8 what about Y/N SHE LOOKS GORGEOUS

user10 I cant believe nando's birthday is this week

jensonbutton he's so old

user5 @/jensonbutton you're older than him but go off 😭

user2 my favorite DILFS

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

Your husband Fernando never made his birthday a big deal, but when your daughters begged you to throw him a surprise party, you just had to agree. It was adorable how much they cared about his special day and you knew he'd appreciate it.

Usually his birthday consisted of a stressful race, but since it fell on a Monday this year, it was the perfect opportunity to get everyone together.

This was why you were with Lance. You weren't really "alone" with him either. Not even ten minutes after the picture was posted Nando had dropped off your kids to take them to the beach.

You watched as the girls walked along in the sand, picking up any seashells they found.

"We have everything right? Balloons? Venue? Everyone RSVP'd?" you fidgeted with your bracelet.

"Yes, Y/n we have everything," Lance responded.

"Good. I just want this to be perfect."

"It will be," he smiled.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by lancestroll, fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri, and 972,743 more

yn.alonso brunch & beach with the girls favorite uncle @/lancestroll

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lewishamilton I thought I was the favorite uncle?

fernandoalo_oficial you wish

user1 am I the only one who thinks y/n and Lance are kind of flirty?

user6 yes you are the only one.

nicorosberg the twins have gotten so big

yourusername I know 🥹

user21 wait I'm new to f1. I didn't know Fernando had kids???

user8 @/user21 yea him and y/n have three :) all daughters, making him an unbeatable girl dad. The twins Mariana (the brunette one) and Sofia (the blonde one) are ten and their one year old is named Isabella <3

user3 no bc its so cute that the twins have each of their parents hair colors

user7 lance's job is beach

user12 he is SO Ken

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

Nando couldn't help but notice the way your phone vibrated on the dinner table. This has been going on for a few weeks now. People calling you at odd times, your phone blowing up with texts, randomly going out with the grid...

He knows you would never cheat on him, but he still found it strange that you'd never mentioned anything about this to him. Up until now, you told him everything.

“Who is it?” Fernando asked, taking a bite of his meal.

Mariana and Sofia looked at each other with their eyes wide, not even trying to hide the fact they were in on your little secret.

”What’s this,” Nando gestured to the two girls with his fork. “What are you three up to?” he raised a brow.

”Nothing, mi amor. Let’s just finish eating, yeah?”

“Are you sure? This isn’t something I should be worried about? Sabes que puedes contarme cualquier cosa, ¿verdad?” - (you know you can tell me anything, right?)

“Si, I know. It’s nothing to be worried about. I promise.” you reassured him.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yn.alonso, lancestroll, astonmartinf1 and 648,942 more

fernandoalo_oficial p5 today

comments are limited

lancestroll we didn’t get the best team result overall but congrats on p5. let’s keep pushing

astonmartinf1 points 💪

yn.alonso proud of you ❤️

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Fernando's Birthday-

The day started off as it usually did. The twins were up super early to jump in the bed with you and cuddle up beside Nando, wishing him a happy birthday.

He always spoiled you and today was the day to return the favor. You made him and the girls breakfast in bed before taking them out sight seeing in Brussels.

"We have one more stop," you said to Fernando who was in the passengers seat.

You pulled up to the venue and led your family through the door. You were holding Isabella as the twins giggled the whole way inside.

-

"Surprise!!!" everyone yelled as the lights went on.

The room was filled with gold, white, and green balloons and a heart shaped cake was sitting in the middle of a long table.

Fernando smiled and turned towards you, "Mi amor what is this?"

"Your birthday party," you smiled back as his arm snaked around your waist. "It was the twins idea."

”I love you so much,” he said, kissing your temple and ruffling his the twins hair. He held his arms out to hold Isabella.

"Lets drink," Lando held up a bottle of alcohol making everyone cheer.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, aussiegrit, jensonbutton, and 1,592,484 more

yn.alonso happy birthday to the love of my life @/fernandoalo_oficial. you are the most incredible driver, husband, and father and these last fifteen years with you have been an absolute blessing. eres mi todo, mi amor. feliz cumpleaños - (you are my everything, my love. happy birthday) ❤️

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fernandoalo_oficial te amo mucho. gracias cariño ❤️

♡ by yourusername

lancestroll I'm not crying you're crying

carlossainz55 happy birthday cabrón

lewishamilton happy birthday fernando

user7 guys 🥹

user1 this is the cutest thing I've ever seen

astonmartinf1 happy birthday to our fav

♡ by fernandoalo_oficial

user8 THEY LOVE HIM SO MUCH 😭

user2 if my relationship isn't like there's I don't want it

aussiegrit happy birthday mate

♡ by fernandoalo_oficial

[girlishguitarist]

I always feel so weird when I see companies making mega expensive “punk” and “goth” clothes. I used to know this other person who kept on wanting to get into the goth scene, and another one of my friends literally was so willing to help her and get her started out with like music recs and clothing tips and she’d constantly tell us. “Oh, but dressing goth isn’t accessible for me. I don’t have the money.”

Which y’know makes sense, not everybody has the money to drop on getting goth clothes. Especially when your priorities are literally keeping a roof over your head and paying bills. We’re all from working class families here. But then we just kind of realised she was referring to the shit you’d find on like… Killstar or Dollskill and everything made a lot more sense. It’s been making me think. Ever since alternative subcultures such as goth, such as punk, even grunge tbf have made their way into mainstream fashion trends on the internet it’s made people believe that the only way you’re able to get clothes to “dress the part” is to fork out shite tonnes of money to these ridiculously overpriced online clothing stores. (You don’t even have to dress goth for example to be goth because it’s a music based subculture but that’s a whole other thing.)

The way trends are today with this whole, “aesthetic” thing along with the consumerist HELL that is fast fashion sparks a wave people just buying swathes of overpriced clothing to hop onto a clothing trend that is actually ripped from a subculture they don’t really understand? Like part of the whole core of these subcultures is that we are anti-consumerist and anti-capitalist. You are a fucking joke.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not talking negatively about people who truly want to get into these subcultures. There is nothing wrong with that at all, of course there isn’t. I’m talking about people who will see a fashion trend and just hop onto it and really have no idea what they’re doing. (This is part of the reason why I believe it’s unlikely we’ll ever have a new subculture as big as previous ones ever again because of just how everything is a trend now.)

Fashion that has been born from these subcultures has always been DIY. Making your own battle jackets, thrifting pieces of clothing and tweaking them to be how you want. Like… I don’t know about you babes but I don’t think goths in the 80’s were getting their clothes from fucking Hot Topic.

The fact that companies are now and have been making ridiculously priced pieces of clothing to capitalise off of: 1.) People who want to hop on trends because they don’t want to make the clothes they just want the style now, and 2.) People who want to genuinely get into subcultures such as punk and goth but may be misguided as to where to get clothing just makes me so fucking mad because it makes getting into the fashion within these subcultures seem inaccessible and consumerist-ridden when they’re absolutely not meant to be.

[roronoa-roro]

Date nights !!

Pairing: kita x reader, osamu x reader, atsumu x reader

Coming up next: kenma x reader, kageyama x reader, recommendations if any

disclaimer: reader is gender neutral.

ᴋɪᴛᴀ ꜱʜɪɴꜱᴜᴋᴇ :

Date nights with kita shinsuke are pretty chill. Usually you both are exhausted from the week and just decide to relax with each other. Oil massages, aromatherapy, and a nice, long soak in the warm water with your favourite bath bomb. Your legs intertwine with his as you bond skin to skin. Post bath, Kita princess-carries you — oh, he's a strong man — to the desk, where lay your elaborate set of skincare utilities. Kita absolutely adores the way you slap the mask on his face, rambling about all the damage the long hours under the sun does to his skin. He loves the way your eyes twinkle, reflecting the twenty or so candles he lit around the dark room since you love aesthetics so much.

His lips set into a smirk as you apply moisturizer to his torso and always get distracted by his strong muscles. He loves the part where you hand him the moisturizer and let him massage it into your skin even more. The best part of the date though, is when it's all over and you both are on the bed, your head on his chest and his arms around you. And you just bask in the presence of each other. It is nice, Kita thinks to himself. It is so, so, so nice he could do this forever. The love and adoration overcome him as he kisses your forehead and slips into the best slumber he's had that week.

❝ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ, Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ. ❞

ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ :

Osamu loves date nights. It's his time to experiment with his favourite recipes and have a taster at the ready. He always has cutesy little onigiris and soft mochis with pink eyes and tongues ready for date nights. And you are also expected to cook something for him. You could be a Michelin star chef, or a hazard to the kitchen, or anything in between, best believe that man is getting you into the kitchen with him. The night is filled with bickering and laughter, as you both discuss ingredient proportions and the best flavours. It always ends up with silly accidents and one of you covered in flour.

Once the cuisine is ready, it's served on the previously prepared candle lit table for two on the balcony. The balcony itself is decorated elaborately with a little something from both, you and Osamu. Over dinner, sometimes you both pretend to be aristocrats, smelling and tasting the wine, using forks and knives. Other times, you both gossip, brutally tearing on anything and everything you can debate on. And most of the times, it's just staring cheesily into each other's eyes and smiling like dorks, cuz wtf, you both are so in love with each other. It's bliss, drinking in each other's features in the romantic setting and carving the memory deep into your heart.

❝ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ, ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ❞

ᴍɪʏᴀ ᴀᴛꜱᴜᴍᴜ :

Date nights with Atsumu are crazy. Atsumu is a very spontaneous man, and he knows how to have fun. One thing you absolutely learned from dating atsumu is that dressing comfy was the go-to with him. He could be asking you out for a movie and then halfway change his mind and take you to the amusement park, just because it looked so pretty from afar. Sometimes when you are tired, he would settle for board games, and if you're not in the mood, then a vent session for you both. And the vent sessions are so awesome. Because, however unhinged the vent could be, the responsibility of the other person is to hype the vent. So, a typical vent session would go—

"I couldn't believe that prof's audacity! I literally turned in the paper at the last second— like rh timestamp was literally there and he had the fucking audacity to say I submitted it late. That bitch!"

"YEAH!! That bitch!!! How dare he do that to youuu!!! :((("

"I KNOW RIGHT??? I hope his house burns down!"

"That's right, we're gonna burn his house down!!!"

"Yeah, but save his dog. It's a cutie."

"YAYYY, SAVE DA DAWG AND BURN DA BITCH!!!!"

Eventually, one of you would break into giggles, and soon enough, both of you would be clutching your stomachs, laughing at how absurd it all was. By the time you made it to bed, you'd be so worn out that sleep would come instantly, comforted by the sound of each other's gentle breathing. No matter how you drifted off, he would end up spooning you, his fingers softly entwined with yours.

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Do you accept poly hcs? If so, could i get some for Hanma x Reader x Ran? I think these two are a really interesting pair to put them in something like this 😈

You can do both sfw and nsfw hcs or anything you want, with either fem or gn reader idc, thank youuu♡

Poly Relationship w/ Hanma and Ran

♡ SFW and NSFW, fem reader, two jackasses in a room together lmao, fluff, mention of Rindou and Kisaki, ass slapping + baton spanking, oral->male receiving, anal, double penetration, filming sex ♡

note: I definitely do poly hcs lol, thank you for requesting anon 🩷 these two together are something else fr

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

SFW

💞 Ran sleeps a lot and Hanma is loud as hell, so he constantly wakes Ran up (on accident and on purpose)

"What the fuck is all that noise!"

*Hanma in the kitchen, scraping a fork on a plate*

"Nothing ♡"

💞 They flirt with you 24/7 and love making you blush

💞 Expect some corny ass jokes and a lot of innuendos

💞 Constantly dragging you along with them, especially when they go to bother Rindou or Kisaki

💞 They try to teach you how to fight and end up fighting with each other

💞 Try to dress you in their aesthetics but can never agree on a full outfit

💞 They love when you wear their clothes around the house, they think you look so cute

💞 Hanma slaps your ass every time you bend over, and when you're standing up, and when you're sleeping or getting out of the shower (anytime any place fr)

💞 Ran likes spanking you with his baton, not even in a sexual way, he's just cheeky

💞 You're practically expected to go to all their fights and cheer them on, besides that they tend to keep you away from their dangerous lifestyles

💞 Give you weapons for your protection, Ran gives you a baton to match his and Hanma gets you brass knuckles (or a taser)

NSFW

💞 Both prefer receiving, they'll even stick both their dicks in your mouth at once

"Look at your pretty little mouth getting stretched by our dicks~"

"So damn cute ♡"

💞 They fuck you at the same time and Hanma always fucks your ass, even when Ran gives him a choice not to he's just like "Nah, I want to ♡"

💞 Ran will fuck all three holes (mouth, pussy, ass, in that order) while Hanma watches (and probably records)

💞 Hanma smokes after sex and Ran kicks him out the room because he doesn't like the smell

💞 Ran and Hanma cuddle with you sometimes, but it usually turns into another round

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies @manji-hoe

[jessybarnes]

Bunker Nights

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Tags: Angst, mentions of past physical and emotional abuse, nightmares, panic attacks, eventual fluffy smut, and protective!Dean

Betas: @winecatsandpizza

Word Count: 4,667

Fic Aesthetic: Yours Truly

A/N: This is a repost from my old Tumblr account. I am in the process of transferring all of my fics over to this one. I hope you enjoy :)

One year.

It had been exactly one year since you ended it with Tyler and you still suffered from the aftershocks of the abuse. Even though your body and mind weren't subject to his fists or harsh words, you still felt worthless. Every day the memories of the torture you went through filled your mind.

The moment you met Sam and Dean in the shitty hole-in-the-wall bar, your personalities clicked. You needed a distraction and somewhere to live, and they needed help in their line of work. So when they offered to let you stay and help them hunt you agreed without hesitation. 

Finally, things seemed to be looking up for you, or so you thought. Two weeks after moving into the Bunker, the nightmares started.

These weren't just any run-of-the-mill bad dreams either. No, in these dreams, Tyler was torturing and trying to kill you. The vividness left you screaming and crying in your sleep almost nightly. The nightmares plagued your mind every time you went to sleep.

Neither of the brothers said anything to you about it, so you tried to pretend everything was fine. It was one of the hardest things you've had to do if you were being honest with yourself. The physical training alone sometimes brought on a panic attack. Even though you knew Sam and Dean weren't trying to harm you, your mind was starting to become your biggest enemy. 

You could tell they wanted to ask you about it, but they also knew that you weren’t one to talk about your past. The only thing you told them was that you and Tyler had a rough breakup. The thought made you laugh. Calling it a rough breakup was putting it very mildly. 

The day before your first hunt went surprisingly well. You went the entire day without any panic attacks or a questioning glance from either of the Winchesters. Even though you couldn’t remember the last time you slept, it didn’t stop you from humming in the kitchen while you cooked everyone dinner. Not to mention, the copious amounts of makeup you used to make yourself look less like a zombie. You made a mental note to get some more of the coverup you hid your dark circles with. 

Sam rounded the corner as you filled everyone’s plates, one of his eyebrows rising quizzically. 

“You’re extra happy tonight, Y/N.” 

You shrugged and continued to hum as Dean joined you both at the table. 

“Yeah, what’s gotten into you? You win the lotto or somethin’?”

You gave them both your signature eyeroll and took a pull of your beer. 

“What? I can’t be in a good mood now?”

Sam cleared his throat and looked over at his brother before staring back at you, concern evident in his eyes. 

“Of course you can, Y/N. Dean and I …  well, we’ve noticed that you’ve been having nightmares.”

Your eyes narrowed to thin slits. If this was their attempt to keep you from going on tomorrow’s hunt, then they had better think again. 

“I’m. Fine."

You enunciated your words, making sure to look at both of them sternly. Sam scoffed and set his drink down.

“I don’t call it fine when you wake up almost every night screaming, Y/N”

All you wanted was one day, one day where you could just forget about the grim night that awaited you.

“They’re just dreams, and I’m going tomorrow no matter what. I’ve been training for this day for months, and a stupid nightmare isn’t going to bench me.”

The hostility in your voice caught them off guard, and you suddenly weren’t hungry anymore. You pushed the contents of your plate around with your fork, the awkward silence becoming more deafening by the second. Dean was the first to break it, his soothing tone of voice practically making you sick to your stomach. You knew they wanted you to stay home, and it pissed you off even more that your brain somewhat agreed with them. 

“Look, Y/N, we just wa-”

You slammed your fists on the table cutting him off mid-sentence. 

“ENOUGH! I’m not here to be your charity case! I came here to hunt, not for you to feel sorry for me!”

Before either of them could say anything you had stormed down the hallway to your room. Slamming the door for good measure, you finally let yourself unleash the angry tears you’d held back. You knew they were only trying to help, but being pitied didn’t sit with you well. You’d grown accustomed to it after being with Tyler for so many years, and it made you feel like everyone was hypersensitive to your feelings. 

Once the tears stopped, you were left exhausted and feeling numb. Falling asleep right after an outburst would definitely bring on a nightmare, so you opted for a long hot shower instead. The moment the water cascaded over your skin you felt the stiffness in your muscles leave your body. You spent extra time massaging your scalp and even used your lavender soothing body wash to help calm your nerves. 

Finally, in your pajamas, you slid beneath your covers and sighed deeply. Couldn’t you just have one day where you didn’t have someone worrying about you? Deciding not to dwell on it any longer, you turned the bedside light off and let yourself fall asleep. 

Fear, raw fear coursed through your body as you ran. You’d just told Tyler you wanted to see other people and he’d tried to force himself on you so you’d stay. He pinned you against the wall, his breath reeked of stale beer as he kissed down your neck. The feeling of his lips made you shiver with disgust. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you raised your knee hard and fast hitting him right where it counted. 

Tyler yelled in pain as you broke free, running as fast as you could to the door. 

“Ow, FUCK! God Dammit, Y/N! Come back here you fucking bitch!”

Cold air hit your face as you ran barefoot into the woods behind your home. Branches hit your exposed skin leaving little cuts in their wake. You could hear Tyler shouting after you as you found refuge behind a big tree trunk. Your chest heaved and you shivered as you tried to stay still and quiet. 

Tyler’s footfalls and yelling became louder by the second, and you were sure he could hear the thundering of your heart. Just as you thought you were in the clear, strong arms boxed you in, the bark of the tree cut into your back as Tyler stared menacingly down at you. 

“There you are… you pathetic little slut. You shouldn’t have done this, Y/N. You should have just come home like the good little bitch you are and kept that pretty, little mouth shut.”

His fingers grazed your cheek briefly before his mouth was on your own, the taste of his tongue made you almost vomit. 

“Now, we could have done it back at the house, but seeing as how you made a scene, I think I’ll just take you right here.”

You tried to push, shove, kick, anything to get him off you, but it was of no use. He began to forcefully rid you of your clothes, and all you could do was scream. Scream for anyone to help you.

“Stop! Please, Tyler!”

Sobs racked your body as he pawed roughly at your skin. You could feel him now, shaking you, calling your name.

“No! Just leave me alone!”

You bolted upright in your bed, a cool sheen of sweat covered your skin and the sheets. Dean knelt in front of you, concern etched in his features. 

“Y/N! It’s okay! It’s me… it’s Dean.”

You blinked a few times before covering your face with your hands, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks. 

“D-Dean… I’m… I’m s-sorry for waking you up. I… It was just another d-dream.”

You tried to sound confident between your sobs, but you knew he wouldn’t buy it. Hell, even you knew how pathetic you sounded. Ever so slowly Dean sat on the foot of your bed, his hand coming to rest gently on your knee. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew he was looking at you with worry in his eyes. 

“C’mon now, Y/N. Don’t bullshit me. You and I both know that this is past the point of being 'just dreams'. I want to help you, but you’re going to have to work with me here.”

Using the back of your hands to wipe the loose tears away, you finally got the courage to look at him. His eyes were soft, kind even. The lopsided smile he gave you was the moment you finally let your walls down. Dean was here to help you, not judge you. 

“O-Okay… so umm… what do we do now? How do I stop dreaming of these… these horrible things?”

Dean started to move his thumb across your kneecap. In any other situation you’d be in a fit of laughter, but at a time like this, it was soothing. 

“Do you trust me?”

Those four words made you swallow thickly. Trust wasn’t something you took lightly, and Dean knew that. Sam understood this too, but Dean was different. He could count on one hand the people he had full trust in.

“Yes, of course, I trust you, Dean. Believe me, I want these nightmares to stop just as much as you do if not more.”

He stood and held his hand out to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you took it anyway and let him lead you to his room. The Bunker was eerily quiet at night, but you knew you were safe. You stood at the threshold, watching him as he padded across the floor to his bed. Your cheeks flushed as he rid himself of his t-shirt, leaving him only in his low-hanging grey sweats. You never let yourself think about Sam or Dean this way before, but you weren’t a prude. Every woman who came in contact with them knew how attractive they were. 

Dean cleared his throat bringing you back to reality.

“You comin’ sweetheart? I don’t bite...much.”

He winked, and you knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but who were you kidding? You couldn’t share a bed with Dean. That would make things weird, and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. Nightmares or not, you weren’t going to jeopardize your friendship. 

“Dean...I-I don’t think I can do this… I’m pretty worn out from crying so let’s just say we forget about this night and I’ll go back to my own bed… I’m sorry for being a burden. I’ll just.. I’m gonna go…”

You turned to leave, but not before Dean caught your arm. 

“Whoa whoa slow down, Y/N. What’s wrong? Is it because I took my shirt off? ‘Cause I can put it back on. I’m just used to sleeping without it on is all.”

You sighed and shook your head. 

“No, it-It’s not that. I just… I don’t want this to ruin our friendship ya know? I don’t want things to get weird or anything.”

Dean shook his head and chuckled. 

“So, don’t let it get weird.”

His look went back to firm before he continued. 

“Y/N, be honest with me. How long has it been since you slept, and I mean really slept?”

Your eyes went to your feet, your toe rubbing across a rough spot on the old floor. 

“I umm… I haven’t slept in four days…”

A flash of concern laced his features as he pulled you back into his room. 

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

He pulled back his covers and got under them before patting the other side of the mattress invitingly. 

“Come here, Y/N. You need sleep just as much as I do. I promise I won’t try anything with you. I mean, I’m a cuddler so, I might do that, but nothing else, I swear.”

You lowered your head in defeat and crossed the room before climbing into bed next to him. He carefully wrapped his arm around your waist, feeling you tense a little, before relaxing. Neither of you talked, but there really wasn’t any need to. You already felt more at ease in Dean’s arms. The smell of his shampoo and pheromones calmed you. Mere minutes later, his breathing evened out, and his light snoring filled your ears. Moments later, you were asleep. 

It became a routine that none of you spoke about. Every night, you would get ready for bed in your room and slip into Dean’s, silently climbing into bed beside him. True to his word, he was a cuddler but instead of the apprehension you’d expected at his touch, you only felt warmth and safety.

He was never inappropriate either. His hands stayed firmly in the safe zones, holding you around your middle if you decided that spooning was the position for you; his lower half was always carefully angled away when you woke up. If you slept curled into his side, he kept his hand on your shoulder or waist, never anywhere else.

The nightmares weren’t dispelled so easily. But being with Dean, they were normally stopped before they were over - he was a naturally light sleeper and the slightest twitch in your slumber had him waking you with gentle reassuring murmurs.

It was three weeks before your first night with no memories assaulting you. You woke with your face against Dean’s bare chest - you’d fallen asleep there the night before. His skin was warm under your cheek and you sighed, closing your eyes and allowing the haze of sleep to keep you still for a little longer.

“You slept well,” he muttered without opening his eyes and you smiled.

“No nightmares,” you whispered.

“Good.” Dean yawned, stretching his arms up. “I think I slept pretty well too.”

The covers slipped down with his movement and you couldn’t help it; your eyes went south to the straining erection that was fighting against the elastic of his pajama pants.

His hand wasn’t fast enough to snatch the covers back up and when you raised your head to look at him, his face was beet red.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, “s’morning and everything… y’know.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, patting his chest.

“It’s not,” Dean grunted, clutching the covers over his lap, “you didn’t want this to get weird.”

“You having a…” you swallowed, unsure how to phrase it, “an erection, isn’t weird. It’s perfectly natural.” With a shrug, you slid your eyes away from his, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’d say it’s a compliment.”

He blinked, processing what you’d said before his mouth set in a thin smile. “Can’t help what happens when I sleep next to a beautiful woman.”

You were sure your face was about to burst into flames and you giggled. “Now you’re making it weird.”

Dean smirked - not one of those sarcastic expressions, more playful, devilish. The way you expected he’d look at a woman he wanted to -

“Besides,” you added hurriedly, shifting a little way away from him, “I’m not your type.”

“Who says?” he challenged and you pulled back, frowning.

Dean moved, pushing himself up with his arm. “You say you don’t wanna ruin our friendship but I can’t keep spending the night with you warm next to me and pretending I’m not craving you in every way possible.”

His declaration left you speechless - what were you supposed to even say to that?

Thank you?

Dean chuckled, leaning in a little closer. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered and you were struck by the thought that no man should ever look that pretty when asking that question. With scruffy bed hair and sleep lines on his face, Dean managed to look like he’d fallen out of a GQ photoshoot.

Your reply, when you finally forced it out, was barely a squeak.

His lips were soft when they pressed against yours but you couldn’t relax. Your entire body was stiff with trepidation; you felt hot and cold all at once and it took only seconds for Dean to notice your tense posture.

Breaking away, he cupped your cheek, dragging his thumb down to rest on your chin, making your eyes meet his.

“Talk to me,” he urged softly.

The temptation to shut off, to not tell him anything, warred with the need to spill your illogical shame for what had happened. You knew Dean would never blame you but seeing the pity in his eyes would be unbearable.

But he deserved to know what he’d been protecting you from. At least, in part.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve,” you took a shuddering breath, dropping your chin away from his hand, “since I’ve been with anyone. And the last time wasn’t…” Your eyes closed and you tried to forget the rough touch on your skin.

Dean’s hand moved, resting on your hip and the warmth of his touch seeped into you, forcing you to look at him again, letting his gentle touch replace the horror from before.

“You know I wouldn’t hurt you,” he coaxed, smiling softly. “I could never hurt you.”

What you feared most was nowhere to be found in his face. His sincere green gaze focused on you, filled with nothing but lust and affection.

You moved closer, startling him with a chaste kiss, your little moan swept away by his hum of appreciation and when he tugged you closer, you moved with him easily, losing yourself in the warmth of his skin.

Dean didn’t push, letting you set the pace and you were content with kissing, feeling his hands roam your body. You licked into his mouth, breaking only for air; you weren’t paying much attention to the way you pinned him back onto the bed, straddling his lap so you could kiss him and run your hands over his solid chest and stomach.

He laughed, arching when your fingers caught a ticklish spot, which only prompted you to do it again.

“Quit it,” he chuckled, grabbing at your hands but keeping his touch light.

Dragging your right hand to his lips, you sucked in a breath as he kissed each fingertip, his eyes locked on yours the entire time.

He continued down over the palm of your hand, tracing the throb of your heartbeat to your wrist. By the time his soft lips reached the inside of your elbow, you were practically mush - before he could continue, you used your free hand to cup his face.

“Later,” you promised.

Dean’s eyes sparkled as you rolled your hips, reminding him of the erection straining at his pants. “Fuck,” he groaned, letting his head fall back, “don’t do that.”

“Why?”

The tone of your voice had him narrowing his eyes at you. “Because if you do, I might not be able to help myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to?”

Dean pushed himself up onto one hand, abruptly enough that you squeaked and giggled, smiling when he used the other hand to cup the back of your neck and draw you in for a deep kiss.

“Do you want me as much as I want you, princess?”

You nodded, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise, his nose squished against yours.

“You know you can tell me to stop at any time, right?”

“I know,” you whispered, initiating another kiss, dragging your tongue over his.

Shifting his weight so his back was straight, Dean’s hands landed on your hips, grinding you down harder against his cock. His fingers trailed up underneath the thin tank top you’d worn to bed; he groaned when his thumbs brushed the underside of your bare breasts.

You lifted your arms, letting him pull the top up over your head, giving him full access to your breasts and Dean leaned in, brushing his nose across the top of one.

“You’ve got no idea how beautiful you are,” he murmured and you smiled, folding your hands around the back of his head as he started to worship your tits with his tongue.

His cock was twitching against your core and Dean grunted, pushing one hand underneath the covers to shove his pants down.

“Sorry, it’s getting a little uncomfortable down there,” he joked, resuming his attention to your nipples and you gasped when his teeth grazed one solid peak teasingly.

The sudden desire to feel his skin on yours was a full-body craving; you shifted and pushed at your shorts, managing to drag them down without dislodging him.

The sound Dean made when you were finally perched nude in his lap was only amplified when you pushed him back, using your feet to shove the covers down. His cock was warm and throbbing against your bare slit and you whimpered, grinding against him and he broke away from your breast, groaning loudly.

“Fuck, Y/N -”

“Sssh,” you ordered, sliding down his body until you were straddling his thighs, wrapping one hand around his shaft before you could stop and think about it.

Dean’s chin tilted up and the veins on his neck popped with the strained angle of his neck, a low moan accompanying the bob of his Adam’s apple when you licked the tip of his cock.

He kept his hands at his sides, clenching them in the sheets, giving you all the room you needed. It wasn’t something you had an entirety of experience in but Dean seemed happy enough to let you explore, finding the sensitive spots at the base of his length. When you cupped his balls with your other hand and fondled them gently, Dean emitted a noise of pure lust and warmth swelled in your core in response.

Stroking him slowly, you watched a bead of precum seeping from his slit; the urge to taste it was more than you could ignore. The salty tang was worth the way Dean’s entire body twitched and he looked down at you, tucking his chin into his chest.

“You know there are limits to torture, right?” he muttered, raising an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing to stroke him as he moaned under his breath. “Jeez, Y/N, you’re gonna… fuck…”

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” you chided, your gaze fixed on the way his cock fit in your hand. Your fingers didn’t quite touch either side, not until you reached the slightly flared head and you suddenly wanted to know what it felt like to have him buried inside you.

The thought was enough to provoke a sudden rush of wetness between your thighs and Dean groaned as you rutted against him, barely acknowledging your own movement. 

A tiny voice in the back of your head stilled your movements, doubt settling in the pit of your belly. Shouldn’t you be frightened of this? After… after him, there hadn’t been anyone and this felt like something that should be shaking you to the core.

But all you could feel was pure adrenaline and desire pumping through your veins; everything was focused on the way Dean felt underneath you, the warm weight of his cock as you stroked him, and the sounds of pleasure he was making.

“Dean,” you whispered, meeting his eyes, “I wanna fuck you.”

He muttered a curse, biting his bottom lip when you released his cock and crawled further up his body. There was no objection - Dean continued to let you set the pace. You lifted yourself, slipping two fingers between your thighs, sinking them into your body.

“Y/N…” Dean muttered, covering your hand with his own, “let me.”

You nodded, letting him take over, whining when he pushed a single digit into you. Just one of his fingers felt bigger than your two, more calloused and filling. He pumped them a few times, smirking when you closed your eyes and tilted your head back, enjoying his slow touch.

All too soon, you grew impatient for more but before Dean could add a second finger, you tugged on his wrist. “Want you,” you pouted, leaning over to kiss away any protest he could make. Lifting your hips, you pinned his hands beside his head, smiling against his lips. “Stay.”

Dean obeyed, groaning when you slipped one hand down to grasp him again, lining his tip up with your soaked entrance. Lowering down onto him, you whined, lifting again when your body struggled to accept the intrusion. With a few more thrusts, you had him halfway inside and his body was shaking with the effort of holding back.

Lifting up once more, you pushed down, taking him to the hilt. The shock of being so full made you yelp and Dean’s hands were on your hips, holding you steady so you could adjust.

“Gah,” you moaned, resting against his chest, “you’re… fuck.”

“Now who has a dirty mouth?” Dean teased and you pulled back, smiling. “Want me to put my hands back?”

You nodded, waiting for him to return his hands to the pillow before sliding your fingers up to lace them with his.

When you started to move, rocking gently on him, Dean closed his eyes, a low rumble in his chest letting you know that it felt good. The way he reacted made you a little bolder and you lifted yourself, letting him withdraw a few inches before taking him to the hilt again. 

“Y/N…”

“What?” you asked, worried you’d done something wrong with the way he moaned your name.

His cheeks were a little red when he answered. “I’m close and you haven’t -”

“Oh,” you blinked, ceasing your movements, unsure what to do, “do you want me to stop?”

“God, no,” Dean chuckled. “I just wanna make sure you cum too.” The way he said it, his low throaty voice almost catching on the words, made you shudder and clench around him. “Sit up straight,” he instructed - you obeyed, a little puzzled until you felt how much deeper it let him be.

You moaned, circling your hips as Dean’s jaw clenched. Your lips parted in a little “o” when he responded with a slight thrust, one hand untangling from yours to hover over your mound, his thumb settling just above where his cock was inside you.

“That okay?” he asked and you nodded, squirming needily. Intense pleasure was on the edge of your senses, teasing you with the promise of climax but you craved more. Dean’s thumb traced your clit and a spark made your hips jerk. “That’s it,” he coaxed, “keep moving for me, baby.”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you started to rock, much like how you had started. The throbbing inside you increased with each glide of his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Electricity ran through your veins prompting your head to fall back as you whimpered into orgasm.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” Dean murmured his other hand on your hip now, guiding your rocking motion when you fell over the edge.

It was calmer than any orgasm you’d ever experience but possibly one of the best. Dean’s climax followed yours within seconds and he stopped touching you, letting you fall forward onto his chest, panting heavily.

Although you’d barely moved, you were sweating, exhausted and more sated than you’d ever felt. An overwhelming sense of calm swept through you; even though your legs were shaking with the effort of simply existing, you felt peaceful.

Eventually, Dean had to move, helping you clean up before he slipped back into bed with you. Neither of you spoke as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and drew you back against his chest, letting you curl into his side.

“Get some more sleep,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You nodded, closing your eyes without a reply and letting the last ebbing waves of bliss carry you off.

[skrrts]

Home Is ✧ yeosang version (oneshot)

✧ gn!reader x kang yeosang ✧ genre: non-idol, slice of life, fluff, romance ✧ word count: 1,3k ✧ warnings: food / eating

You have found the love of your life, and now the two of you are ready for the next step in your relationship: moving together. Neither of you can wait to finally be able to spend every day together but it's out of the question ... the whole progress looks a lot more casual and aesthetical on social media than it actually is. Chaos. Your furniture delivery is delayed but that doesn't mean you can't have a cute dinner in the middle of unpackaged moving boxes and fake candlelight. It still feels like a dream, looking at the most beautiful man with whom you'll now truly spend your life with.

a/n: #2 of my friday oneshot series for September ft. the hyung line. delayed because i deleted the original post while on a trip. hope the start of autumn is a pleasant one for you so far 🤎🍂

It was a little silly, the way how you shoved some of the moving boxes together as a replacement for a table and threw a bedsheet over it so that it looked much nicer than simply doing it without that. You placed one of your smaller plants on top and added one of the LED candles you bought the other day. Soft sounds came from the kitchen, Yeosang unboxed a few plates to use instead of eating out of the plastic containers your takeaway food arrived in.

This was your very first apartment and everything was so new and exciting, easily outweighing the downsides of it, the stress and endless amount of work still waiting for you. Your parents owned a small house and until last week, you lived in the small rooftop apartment your dad built for you. It had been small but perfect for you and you’d always cherish the hours you spent there growing up, time with friends and most of all, those soft nights with Yeosang. 

The two of you had been dating for over two years and when Yeosang proposed to move together, you accepted it without hesitation. Your parents were thrilled and excited to see their youngest child venturing into this new part of life and there had been many helpful hands to help bring all you needed here. Now all that was left were shelves to set up and boxes to clean out, well and waiting for your bedroom and living room furniture which had been delayed by a week due to poor weather conditions in your area.

It would take weeks until this really would be homely but Yeosang and you both were simple people and you managed to feel happy with the smallest of things.

“The dinner is served.” Yeosang carried two large places swiftly inside, placing them on your small setup table. 

You allowed yourself to admire his beauty for a moment. While he wore comfortable jeans and a loose white shirt, his muscular body still was showcased beautifully, and while his brown hair reached his eyes by now, the birthmarks you adored so much were still visible.

Yeosang covered them up still when you two started to date but now, he was comfortable not to do that anymore and you were proud of him.

“What are you looking at?” he asked in his deep voice, a curious smile on his lips when you blinked, being caught once more and quickly picking up the fork and knife. 

“Just was thinking how I get to stare at you properly now at any time of the day without having to answer anyone’s question of what I am looking at,” you teased but wanted to be sincere. Your parents always taught you the importance of being sincere and honest with your partner and you liked how the two of you boosted each other’s confidence, helping out with the insecurities you faced.

You weren’t perfect but you could remind each other how you were perfect in the other’s eyes.

“Is that so? Well, I cannot deny that is a good point,” he chuckled and clapped his hands together: “Thank you for the shared meal.” 

With that, Yeosang also started to eat but he was slow, his eyes on you adoringly. You did not realize just how hungry you must have been after all the hard work of today and it tasted even better than usual, your plate empty in no time.

Your boyfriend disappeared for a moment and returned with two plates of cake and you didn’t even know when he had the time to get those. “Now you are tempting me to eat sugar at such a late hour,” you laughed and he winked.

“Well, I was just thinking how I can spoil you to any given hour now without having anyone to ask if we always do it like that.”

Tch, using your own words against you, all you could do was smile.

Yeosang picked up a little bit from the cake, offering it to you on the tip of the fork. You carefully leaned over and accepted it. His pretty face was lit by the fake candles, making him look like what you thought angels must look like.

The cake was delicious and you soon repaid the favor. This was nice, you enjoyed how soft everything felt, the excitement to know you’d share your life like this from now on.

Once you were done, you cleaned up and decided to call it enough for the day. 

Yeosang prepared the couch, there were blankets and pillows and more candles. Yet, the most beautiful part was him with arms wide open, inviting you to come into his embrace and you did so without hesitation. 

He hugged you tightly, wrapping your bodies into the blankets as he turned on the TV. You relaxed against his body and his arms kept you tight as you picked a random show you two watched before, something easy that did not require your full attention. Today really had been too exhausted to pay any show much mind.

Yeosang began to place little kisses on top of your hair and you find yourself sighing. 

“You are okay?” his voice was soft and caring, his fingers entwined with yours as he leaned a little forward so that you could look at his face.

“Mhm, I was just thinking, this is nice. I mean, I know in theory we do not do anything different from all the evenings we spent at your or my old place but knowing this is our home now…”

The budget had been a bit tight but this would be more than enough, you did not need a whole lot of space.

Yeosang’s eyes wandered over the living room or the parts you managed to set up earlier before he smiled too: “Knowing how it won’t get boring.... I am excited, thinking about mornings where you get nervous because you cannot find your keys and they just fell off the shelf or when I have no memory just where I left my phone in the middle of the night.”

It was something the two of you would do very likely. You could already see it in your mind, how two mature people just were silly and clumsy together, maybe a little lost. 

“But also, do not forget how we will be too late at work because we got lost in each other’s embrace, little kisses exchanged while one of us mumbles how we should get going but the other is simply unwilling to let go just yet.” 

Most of your friends had a hard time imagining how the two of you were like that as you were considered the mature ones but it occurred several times and now living together, well.

You loved how you were a little more silly when it just was the two of you together like that. 

“That sounds amazing,” Yeosang admitted, humming as his gaze wandered back to the TV.

“I do not care if in the end, we do decide to expand families or live just like that, the two of us. I know that now, my home in form of the person I adore the post and the place where I return to are finally together and I am so very lucky for that.”

Your cheeks turned red just a little when he said that.  “Sh, you make me all shy!” you complained and Yeosang grinned: “Good, get used to it.”

You rolled your eyes and he laughed, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“I love you, so very much,” he whispered and your hand rested on his cheek.

“I love you too, Yeosang.”

Yeosang looked happy and content when he looked at you and for a moment you just remained like that before snuggling closer to him again. The TV was still running in the background but all you could think about was how you had a future, one really starting now, together with the man you loved more than anything in the world.

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 4 all chapters

Winter is making you stir crazy, so on your day off you decide to go for a hike on one of the copious mountain trails around your town. There’s still snow on the ground, and in the middle of the day you seem to have the woods nearly to yourself.

You like being by yourself.

The mountain is quiet, but for the wind in the trees and some determinedly chipper little birds chirping.

You nearly have a heart attack when you round a bend, and there is a large figure in all black. For a split-second you mistake him for a bear, before you realize it’s Mr. Wick.

“Jesus, you scared me,” you huff.

“Sorry,” he says, seeming genuinely apologetic.

“Where’s Dog?”

“I left him at home. Too cold.”

You like it, that he considered Dog’s comfort in the matter.

With a small frown he peers around you. “Are you alone?”

“Yes. I hike alone all the time.”

You hope he will spare you the lecture, even if it secretly pleases you that he is a little worried for you.

He sighs a little. “I wish you wouldn’t. You never know who you might run into out here.”

You cant your head, finding this statement slightly ironic, considering.

“I can handle myself. You’re looking at a junior Tae Kwon Do black belt, I’ll have you know.” The latter you deliver with a sassy grin, because even though it has come in useful on a few occasions, in the real world you know it doesn’t mean shit. You were just a child, and it was a long time ago.

This actually succeeds in winning you what is nearly a full-on smile, for him. “Well then. Remind me not to piss you off.”

The thought is absurd to you. You’re no willowy waif by far, but you can tell right now that this totally fit—and fine as fuck, if you’re being honest—man could snap you like a twig, if he wanted to. You snort in answer.

“I’m sure it won’t come up.”

He levels you with a long look then, that you don’t entirely understand.  

“So…you like hiking in the cold?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little awkward.

“I guess I’m used to it,” he answers. “I was born in Belarus.”

“Oh.” There is no hint of accent in his words. You reason he must have come to America at a very young age.

“And you?”

“I was not born in Belarus,” you confirm. It’s his turn to huff, and your heart skitters in your chest when he takes a step closer. He veritably looms over you, so tall and broad shouldered. You have a moment of clarity in which it really sinks in that you are totally alone out on the quiet mountain with this man, and he really could do anything he wants with you.

The thought titillates more than it disturbs, and maybe you have a screw loose.

“You’re a cheeky girl, aren’t you?”

There is a look in his eye, and for a moment you think he’s going to bend down to you. Crazier yet, you would have let him. But his hands remain in the pockets of his expensive down coat. The weight of his gaze alone is enough to make you feel as though he’s touched you, and you narrowly suppress a shudder.

It’s not because of the crisp mountain wind.  

“So I’ve heard. I don’t like the cold,” you answer his real question. “But I do like the snow.”

He frowns a little. “How does that work out?”

“It’s an aesthetic thing.”

“Ah. Your artist’s eye.”

“I guess.”

“You’re very good.”

It is, in fact, freezing cold out there in the woods, but suddenly you feel warm, standing there with him, basking in his praise.

“You’re kind.”

He tilts his head, his hair falling in his eyes. “Not really,” he says, and it almost sounds like a warning. “But maybe, just for you. Can I walk with you?”

You were enjoying your solo excursion, but you find yourself nodding in agreement, unable to turn down the opportunity to spend time with your mysterious but favorite customer from the coffee shop.  

“Ok. Are you making the loop?”

“Partly. My house isn’t far from the north fork of the trail.”

“Ah.” He must have just moved into one of the insanely expensive mansions tucked back in the woods, you reason.

It’s too cold to stand around and talk, so you hit the trail together. His legs are long, boy are they, but he matches his pace to stay with you. You don’t say much, but you enjoy each other’s company in the outdoors. You follow the line of a steep bluff on one side, old growth trees towering all around. It’s not a sunny day, but still bright from the freshly fallen snow. Later the forecast calls for more.

When you slide a little on an icy rock he makes a grab for you, and suddenly you do find yourself tucked in against the hard line of his side. It wasn’t entirely necessary—you’re wearing knobby boots, and you would have landed on your feet.

But it is endearing that he was worried for you.

The strength in his grip squeezing you steals your breath away. You only manage to get out a wheezy, “Thanks.”

He acknowledges your gratitude with a grumble, releasing you almost as quickly as he grabbed you. You get the sense that he is annoyed, somehow. You, however, know the memory of his body against yours is going to haunt your dreams that night.

Suddenly too warm, you unzip your jacket a little.

When you reach the trail marker for the north fork that will take him closer to home you look at him, expecting to say goodbye, certain he will be glad to be rid of you. But he keeps walking. “I'll get you to your car,” he says. 

“You don't have to do that.” 

“I want to,” he insists. “If you don't mind?” He’s softened again to you, for whatever reason, and you swear his moods could give you whiplash. Having this man to yourself for another mile isn’t the worst way you've spent an afternoon. 

“Ok, if you insist.” 

When you get to the parking lot, there is a shifty pair of guys hanging out in a beat-up Dodge van that might as well have “FREE CANDY” spray painted on the side panel. You look to John curiously, who is staring down the driver with a hard look in his eyes. Even though that look isn’t directed at you, it gives you a little chill.

The man behind the wheel confers with his bearded companion, and they decide to start up and chug away. 

You feel like you narrowly missed a passing danger, like a shark swum past your hiding spot in the reef.

“How... did you know?” 

“Seen them around the past week or so. Maybe promise me no more solo hikes until they move on?” 

“Yeah. Ok.” Maybe they were just two guys down on their luck hanging out in a van…but they definitely gave you the creeps.

“Can I give you a lift home?” He would have miles to go, uphill, in the bitter cold otherwise. 

“Thanks.” 

You pause at your late model Rav4, kind of embarrassed. He drives a very nice black Range Rover, and though your car is a soldier, bless all four of its cylinders, it kind of looks like a piece of shit. “Um...sorry,” you say, moving some books out of the passenger seat.

However, he seems non plussed. 

“No worries. Thanks for the ride.”

You start the engine, letting it warm up a little. He rubs his hands together, blowing on his fingers. “So…do you pick up strangers from the woods often?”

You laugh quietly. “You’re not that strange.”

 He tilts his head in that way that makes you feel unnervingly seen.

“You don't really know me, y/n.”

Why do you feel like he's trying to warn you?

“So... you’re saying I should make you walk back up the mountain in the freezing cold?” 

His low laughter tugs at your insides, making unbidden warmth spread through you.

“No, now that I'm here that really doesn't sound appealing.” 

You dare to wonder if he means here, with you.

“Ok then.” You put the Rav4 in drive. “Where are we headed?”

[honeygrahambitch]

Wedding cake shenanigans

"Alright. Ready?" Hannibal asked as he handed Will a fork.

"So ready."

"We have to take this very seriously, Will."

"Relax and count on my sugar tooth."

Hannibal pulled a chair and sat down in front of Will. Various sortiments of cakes were resting on the table in front of their eyes.

"And I suppose you know what every cake contains? Every cake?"

"Yes. Pick one to begin with, dearest."

Will's gaze fell on the cakes. He pulled some of them closer to have a better look. He was examining them as if they were a boat engine which needed to be repaired.

"This." He said as he pulled a chocolate one between them.

"Sachertorte. Excellent choice. Austrian cake made from chocolate and apricot Marmelade."

Will nodded in approval and sank his fork into it, followed by Hannibal who was more interested in Will's reaction. He admired the way he frowned as he chewed slowly and had another bite. And another. But the delight was not on his facial features.

"What do you think, darling?"

"It's good. More Marmelade would definitely make a difference. Do we rate them?"

"Like in a tiktok video?"

"I mean, you use that app, I do not. But, sure, like in a tiktok video."

"Yes, we rate them, then."

"8/10. You?"

"6/10."

"Alright, Doctor, and here we thought I would be the difficult one."

"Will, I will always appreciate Sachertorte but I feel like it would be too basic for our wedding. Too simple. Choose another one."

Will sighed dramatically even if, in fact, he did not mind eating as much cake as he wanted.

"This."

Hannibal sighed loudly.

"Why do we even have a red velvet slice if you have a problem with it?" Will asked an arched an eyebrow as he greedily sunk his fork into it.

"The one thing that I love is the red and white contrast. It is aesthetic enough for what I have in mind. But as far as I'm aware, it's been extremely overused."

Will grabbed another bite and fed Hannibal.

"A bit too dry. But the cream is nice. 7/10" Will commented as he watched Hannibal think about it, as if it was the most important decision in his life.

"5/10. It has no flavor. Just sugar. And I agree, too dry. If it was not for the color, it would have been a well deserved 4/10."

Will laughed. "Choose another one."

"This. Sponge bathed in whiskey, dark chocolate and mint-orange glaze."

Will made a face which Hannibal pretended to ignore and they both tried it while their gazes remained locked.

"This is as if you had sex and then immediately went to wash the dishes."

"Elaborate on that." Hannibal said with an amused smile on his lips. Watching Will trying so many cakes was one of the most entertaining things they had ever done.

"So the texture is great, and the orange bit is also great...and that would be the orgasm. And if it ended there, the cake would have been brilliant. But then there's the mint. Tastes like toothpaste. Then there's the dark chocolate. Too bitter. So instead of having a nice ending... you end up regretting life choices."

"Wonderful description. I am not a fan of the toothpaste taste. But the subtle whiskey flavour is lovely."

"I was harassed by so many flavors at the same time that I could not even identify the whiskey. A 4/10 for that."

"I will give it a 6. It has potential. Your turn."

Will looked at the remaining cakes and immediately went for the cheesecake to Hannibal's dismay.

"A passion fruit cheesecake. But it can be other type of fruit too."

"But?" Will asked as he dug in.

"It's... cheesecake. I can make it for you any other day. It does not scream "wedding"."

"Well, now we know the issue. You want our cake to scream. That should not be a problem, right?" He said as he devoured the slice.

"I unfortunately cannot incorporate human meat in our cake. Since you insisted to get it done somewhere else."

"I don't want all that pressure on you. You shouldn't be doing so much while I am not doing anything. You are definitely worrying about the decor, the flowers, the invitations, the food, the suits-"

"I am not worrying, I actually enjoy doing most of the planning. And you are doing enough by tasting the cakes. You are helping a lot. The other things would not be as entertaining to you anyway."

Will knew he was right. "Well, thank you. And everything you have updated me on with looks brilliant. I think navy blue and silver are a great combination."

"You remembered it was navy blue." Hannibal said as he was about to propose to him once again.

"Of course." Will said as he finished the cake. "9/10."

"0/10 since you ate it all."

"Oh. Next."

The next five cakes were not it. They were either too dry, too basic, too sweet, too flavoury, nor flavoury enough.

"This was all?" Will asked as if he did not tried 9 types of cake.

"I am afraid so. We can try a different cake shop tomorrow."

"No. I have a better idea. The best compromise."

"I'm listening."

"We both like a moist sponge. And we both like coffee. And we both like Italy."

"Tiramisu."

"Exactly."

"You are pulling the Italy card because you know I will not refuse it."

"That and also the fact that we actually really like Tiramisu."

"I love you so much that I could marry you right here in the kitchen."

"I would gladly do it here in the kitchen."

[agaypanic]

How about a rodrick x fem reader where she's a preppy girl but goes through a change and becomes a punk rock girl. And Rodrick had already noticed her before but now he's really into because they match aesthetics and she's really into rock music now

New Music (Rodrick Heffley X Jefferson!Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: While having to watch your and Rodrick’s younger brothers, he makes a little jab at you about how you only play boring classical music. You challenge this notion by learning a rock piece.

A/N: i could make a part two, bc by the time i was done writing i realized i kinda deviated from the request, whoops… inspired by metal lords and some of the rodrick asks i answered about rodrick x rowley’s older sister (specifically this one)

***

You were used to routines. You liked structure. Every day, you’d have breakfast with your family, take your brother Rowley to his school before going to your own, go to class, pick Rowley up, do homework and thirty minutes of practicing music, have dinner with your family and catch up with each other, then go to bed. Of course, every day differed the slightest bit, and you’d make sure you weren’t constantly overworking yourself, but that was the main gist of it.

And a few times a week, you had to watch after Rowley when he hung out with his best friend, Greg Heffley. And when his mom was forcing him to spend time with his brother, Rodrick had to watch after the boys with you.

More often than not, you’d either be at the Heffley house or a public place like a park or arcade. Very rarely though, you’d all go to your house.

Today was one of those days.

“Okay, don’t do that.” You said, trying to keep the frustration out of your tone as you snatched a fork away from Rodrick while he tried putting some food in your microwave. “My dad doesn’t even like Greg being here sometimes. He’d probably hate your whole family if you burned our house down.”

Rodrick rolled his eyes, slamming the microwave door shut and rolling his eyes. “Oh my god, relax. I would’ve stopped the microwave after the first few sparks.”

You sighed, gripping the fork tightly. You’d think that after years of knowing Rodrick, you’d be used to his behavior. “Look, Rodrick. We already have to look after two little kids; I don’t wanna have to look after three.” Then you handed Rodrick his fork and walked over to the living room, hoping the oldest Heffley could handle himself and his lunch without causing too much trouble.

Rowley and Greg were sitting on the couch, deeply invested in some video game. Your parents didn’t like you and your brother having too much screen time, but you figured another hour or so wouldn’t hurt. You looked at the clock on the wall and realized you hadn’t touched your cello all day.

“Hey, I’m gonna go practice so…” You looked back toward the kitchen, thinking of calling Rodrick over. But instead, you shook your head and looked at the boys again. “Don’t cause too much trouble.”

“Wait!” Rowley paused the game, ignoring Greg’s annoyed reaction. “Can you practice in here? I like that new song you’re doing.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Sure, Row-Row. I’ll be right back.”

As you ran up to your room to fetch your things, you faintly heard Greg say, “Row-Row?”

You came back to the living room with your cello, sheet music, and music stand. As you set up, Greg looked at Rowley questioningly. “She’s really good, Greg.” He said reassuringly. “It’ll be like nice background music.” Greg just shrugged, unpausing the game and going back to playing. 

You quickly became immersed in your music, somehow tuning out your little brother and his friend yelling at the TV and Rodrick loudly munching on his food as he looked at your music from over your shoulder. 

He was polite enough to swallow his food and wait until you were finished playing to speak. “That was boring.” You rolled your eyes and rearranged the papers on your stand to play a new song. “You could play anything, and you decide to play music by dead guys.”

“Well, you don’t have to listen to it, Rodrick.” You hissed. “I’d ask what you think would be better, but I don’t really care for your opinion on music.”

You started playing again, hoping that it would push Rodrick away. But instead, he got closer. “I bet you wouldn’t be able to handle my type of music, goody-two-shoes.” You scowled, trying to not hit Rodrick with your bow.

“You could spend a year practicing a piece, and I would still play it better if I was sight reading.” You inched closer, making intense eye contact with the Heffley boy. 

“Challenge accepted.”

***

Later that week, while picking up Rowley from school, he said that Rodrick told Greg to tell him to tell you to bring your cello to the Heffley house that afternoon. Part of you wanted to say you had more important things to do, but simultaneously, you were curious to see what Rodrick was up to.

“Black Sabbath?” You read the top of the sheet music Rodrick gave you as soon as you and Rowley walked into the Heffley house. “War Pigs… like the Pig War?”

Rodrick narrowed his eyes at you and furrowed his brows. “What?” Before you could answer, he held his hand up in front of your face. “Don’t. Come on.” Then Rodrick grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to the garage, leaving your little brothers to most likely wreak havoc. 

You rarely came into the Heffley’s garage. Whenever Rodrick was in there with his friends, it was beyond loud and chaotic. Totally not your scene. So you were a bit relieved to see that besides Rodrick’s drums and decorations, the room was empty. He grabbed a chair and set it near his drums, and only then did he realize that he was still holding your wrist. Rodrick quickly let go and grabbed his drumsticks, warming up on his drums while you set up your stand and tuned your cello.

“What exactly are we doing right now?” You asked while tightening your bow. 

“We’re about to see if you can handle my type of music, princess.” Rodrick twirled the sticks between his fingers, giving you a smirk that forced you to take a deep breath and stare at your new music so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “There’s a bunch of stuff before your part starts, so just go when you’re ready. I know where to jump in. And the song’s like eight minutes long, so we’ll only do the first two pages.”

“Eight minutes?”

“Just play, Jefferson.”

You sighed, giving the page a quick once over before setting your bow on the string. You tapped your foot to the tempo written above the first measure, internalizing it for a few seconds before playing the first notes. Rodrick immediately followed by tapping on one of his cymbals. Being classically trained and not interested in this kind of music, you had no idea what each little piece of Rodrick’s set was called.

But as the two of you kept playing, the sound started to grow on you. There was something about the mix of strings and percussion that pleased you. The music relaxed you in a way, despite some of the big note jumps. 

By the time you reached the second page, you were a bit disappointed that it was over. Rodrick silenced one of his big cymbals with his hand, seeming slightly impressed. “...Not bad.”

You nodded along, loosening your bow. “So… what does Black Sabbath sound like?”

Rodrick perked up at your question. After staring at you for a few seconds, he almost fell down with how quickly he got out of his seat to go over to his CD collection. You set your bow on the stand and leaned against your cello, watching him curiously. Eventually, he plucked out a CD and put it into a player connected to a large speaker.

As War Pigs started to play, you realized it was very different from how it sounded when you and Rodrick played. When the song got to the part Rodrick had given you, you started to pizzicato along. Unknown to you, Rodrick watched you intently. 

You were both surprised that you listened to the almost eight-minute-long song without asking for it to be turned off. You quietly played along the whole time, tapping your foot in tempo. When the next song on the track played, Rodrick paused the CD, figuring you had had enough. “Not bad.” You said, which surprised him. “...I think I like our version more, though.” That surprised Rodrick even more.

He laughed a little, slightly amused. He walked over to where you were sitting, crouching down to make eye contact with you. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna go all rock now, goody-goody.” You thought he looked a bit hopeful as he said it. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“In your dreams, Heffley.”

***

“Oh my gosh.” Rodrick gasped dramatically as he opened the front door. “What are you wearing?”

“Shut up, Rodrick.” You rolled your eyes, but still smiled at him as you pushed Rowley to go into the house first. Once again, you lugged your cello with you. “It’s just a black dress; I’m not going all emo like you.”

“I’m not emo.” He muttered, shutting the door after you entered. “What’s with the guitar?”

“Cello.” You corrected. “I learned all of that song you gave me. Wanna play it?”

Rodrick looked at you, a bit surprised. “Uhh, yeah, sure. Follow me.” You did as told, walking close behind as he led you back to the garage. “So, you like Black Sabbath now?”

“It’s just an interesting piece.” That wasn’t a lie, but it definitely didn’t tell the whole truth. After going home from that first playing session with Rodrick, you decided to look more into the band. Your search led to their other albums, and then other similar bands. Some of the songs you heard were a bit much, in your opinion, but you really liked some of the others you heard. “And, I guess playing with you is fun, or whatever.”

Rodrick’s back still faced you, so you couldn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks. The chair he had pulled out for you the first time you played together was still in its spot, like he didn’t want to move it. 

The two of you got situated and quickly started playing. You were a lot better than the first time, but then again, that was a sight reading. When doing your daily half hour of practice, you added an extra ten just for the song Rodrick gave you. You didn’t know why you were so fixated on it, but it was fun to play, which you suppose was all that really mattered.

You ended up getting through the whole song with Rodrick. About seven minutes of uninterrupted playing, so in sync with him despite only practicing together once. 

“That was pretty good,” Rodrick said, popping his knuckles. He watched silently for a moment as you plucked through a couple measures before giving a mischievous grin. “I think I’m slowly corrupting you and that nerdy, good girl image of yours. One day, you’ll be wearing chunky eyeliner and listening to Metallica.”

You shook your head, giving Rodrick an unimpressed look. “Shut up.” Yet the thought of that sure did sound interesting.

***

Rodrick Heffley Taglist: @tweedledipshit

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Actually could we put some light on the class difference clash epel is experiencing in school. The situations looks a little weird to me. Cuz in epel's robes vignette it starts with the other pomefiore students asking him about carpet brand preference and he has no idea what to answer. They end up having a misunderstanding that never clears up. Epel proceeds to make a table manner mistake which Rook helps cover up with a lie so epel won't be embarassed (rook can probably sympatise) while vil is more strict. It is in this vignette we see that instance of vil first making epel lie about his favorite food for unclear, debated reasons.

In Epel's labwear vignette we hear some of the NPC students whisper about him and they seem to be asuming he must also be from some rich family due to the clothes he wears (which vil gave to him and makes him wear) and maybe also because he's in pomefiore. I know that it's just like vil to give people clothes he thinks will fit them best,and some of it might be so epel blends in pomefiore better, but could Epel actually be more likely to get picked on if he was perceived as from a lower class? NRC is a prestigious boarding school but it's not like he's the only character with more...average circumstances. Compared to the literal royalty and celebrity attending.

[Referencing this post!]

Mmm... I mean, aren't the mobs (in the Labwear vignettes) already bullying Epel because they perceive him to be of high social status? I don't think it would make a difference if they knew he was of a low social status since the mobs were already bullying him (again, under the impression that he's rich) to begin with. What I'm saying is that bullying would have occurred regardless of Epel's socioeconomic status. It's not necessarily nice, but it seems to be the norm for NRC students to verbally bash one another.

I don't really recall other major or frequent instances of middle class (Trey, Jack, Ace) or low-income students (Ruggie, Deuce) in the main cast being bullied. In fact, Trey and Ruggie are pretty well-liked and respected within their own dorms despite not being as wealthy as the majority of their peers are. (In this post, I go over how roughly 75% of the main cast come from at least upper middle-class backgrounds.) The bullying seems to be centered mainly on Epel, and I think that's probably because his peers perceive him as being small and cute--and therefore delicate, meek, and easy to push around. Epel just seems like the ideal target from a quick glance. Notice how B-kun comments on Epel’s face first:

I think it's also worth noting which dorms the bullies in Epel's Labwear vignettes come from: B and C are from Savanaclaw, and A is from Pomefiore. Savanaclaw mobs are notoriously belligerent and are usually the go-to mobs to pick fights with their peers for what are very minor things. The Pomefiore mob bully seems to be an outlier; most other Pomefiore mobs, at least as depicted in Epel's Ceremonial Robes vignettes, are polite and refrain from this type of behavior.

Importantly, (Savanaclaw) C is the one that calls Epel a “little rich brat” and (Pomefiore) A says Epel is “daddy’s fancy little lad”. This wording makes both sound resentful of the rich, thinking them spoiled—so it makes me think maybe A, B, and C are actually not rich themselves and are the less privileged picking on someone they think is wealthy but unable to stand up for themselves.

Now, within Pomefiore itself, it does appear that many of its students are upper class or at least sticklers for appearances. Their knowledge of brands and aesthetics itself is not damning evidence (anyone of any class could know this too; there’s also lots of non-rich people who obsess over brands). However, the fact that all of Epel’s first year peers already seemed familiar with how to handle a full set of cutlery at a formal meal does indicate high socioeconomic status, as the common man would not know how the heck a salad dork differs from the fish fork. (Most people use 1 fork or 1 spoon for the entire meal, and forget about having courses.) Buuut we shouldn’t assume that this one vignette is representative of all Pomefiore students, just as we cannot assume the one mean Pome A is a good example of all Pomefiore students, since there are limitations with the game. (Another famous game limitation is all Savanaclaw mobs being beastmen and every other dorm having zero beastmen mobs; in the manga, we see humans in Savanaclaw and beastmen in Heartslabyul. Riddle also verbally confirms that Heartslabyul has a cat beastman in the second Beans Day event.)

I think there’s definitely intersectionality at play as well. There’s something to be said for a culture clash in addition to a clash of classes. Epel is the only one in the main cast from a decidedly rural area where there isn’t much to do (ie no brand name shops) and everyone is close and casual with one another (ie there is little in the way of formalities). This likely contributes to the disconnect between Epel and his Pomefiore peers.

Now, where is this all leading to? Am I claiming that bullying based on socioeconomic status doesn't happen at NRC? Of course not! I have no doubt that it happens, but I don't think it's specifically the rich-on-poor type. In Epel's case, it seems to be the poor-on-(perceived to be) rich kind, but the opposite also occurs (in book 1, Riddle insults Yuu's pitiful education, something which is typically associated with the lower class; magic and magic education in particular is associated with the upper class). And, of course, we have the middle ground of people of similar socioeconomic status going at each other (for example, Leona and Malleus's rivalry). What's sort of sad is that the environment at NRC is conducive to animosity and no adults ever intervening because: 1) the students are so prideful, who would actually have the guts to tell an authority figure they were being picked on? and 2) the students tend to try and retaliate or get into fights instead, which only escalates the situation.

At NRC, I get the impression that class is one thing you could get bullied for, but that power and/or connections are much more important factors. Let's revisit Ruggie, who is the most impoverished of the main cast. If we assume that the less well-off students are predominantly the ones who get picked on, then shouldn't we have many examples of Ruggie being bullied? But he isn't. In fact, the big, burly Savanaclaw mobs (who are known to be combative) seem to defer to him instead of bullying him. Leona even leaves Savanaclaw in Ruggie's care while he is away in book 6, fully expecting that the mobs will listen to Ruggie. Why? Well, Ruggie is not physically or magically strong, but he has Leona's backing. It's through this association with the powerful Leona that Ruggie gains the respect and the following of the others in his dorm. This is something we consistently see in other characters, including Epel's own dorm leader. Because Vil beats him in combat, Epel agrees to listen to what he says even if Epel dislikes it. We see mob students bend the knee to the main cast once they've gotten glimpses into their power or abilities (Leona versus the Savanaclaw mobs, Idia versus the Ignihyde mobs, each in their respective Dorm Uniform vignettes).

Circling back around to the concept of Epel being bullied! Would the Pomefiore mobs turn on him if they realize he's actually not wealthy? Maybe...? We don't really know enough about the individual personalities of the mobs to judge for ourselves. If they did bully Epel for that though... I feel like those mobs would be in for an ass whooping from Vil (and Rook) for being so petty, vindictive, and disregarding decorum. Vil can rub people the wrong way with his demanding and stern attitude (I'm one of those people sometimes), but he wouldn't stand for such "ugly" behavior. It sullies the good name of the Fairest Queen and the dorm made in her image that he oversees. Those are my thoughts on the topic! I apologize if I ended up straying a little from the initial ask (I felt like I wasn't even truly talking about Epel for half this post ashdbsadlbayw).

[soldat-buck]

holy shit you guys, look, there's more.

bg3 culinary headcanons: Absolute Edition

- Minthara: would accidentally fit in as the Addams Family home chef (and be angry about it). Gomez would praise her assassination attempts which flusters her (internally) because she's cooking with the normal amount of poisonous mushroom and not an attempted murder amount (and also she would hate loud, in-your-face-chaotic Gomez SO MUCH. if she wanted him dead, he would be dead, do not insult her assassinating abilities). makes the coolest Halloween party food until you realize it's not fun, spooky-mimicry decoration, those are real black widows on those cupcakes (what? they're venom and merlot flavored) (she used cricket flour, too). you don't know where she gets the "red" for her red velvet cakes, but you *do* know that ignorance is bliss and this is a pretty bitchin' birthday cake, so don't think too hard and just eat it

- Dark Urge (pre-game/embrace): slaughterhouse nightmare aesthetic - chef's apron is leather and something more appropriate for blacksmithing, there are way too many cleavers around (why in the blue fuck is there a meat hook over a drain in the floor?). some people watch tv when they cook. some listen to music, podcasts, or nothing. Durge listens to the Toy Box killer kidnapping tape (not to be mixed up with the (not safe for LIFE) Tool Box killers torture tape. that one is for relaxing baths). watches Dahmer documentaries for culinary inspiration. Hannibal Lecter would find most Durge dishes tasteless and over the top.

- Ketheric: listen, he didn't want me to tell you this [so you did NOT hear it from me], but he actually doesn't eat. he has a symbiotic relationship with the bacteria and fungus that keep his body animated and undying (they're why his blood is black). he consumes rotten things to keep his corpse puppet fungus happy and the corpse puppet fungus allows him to keep his consciousness/sentience and keep serving Myrkul. Myrkul's cool with it, as long as his bidding continues to get done

- Orin: Martha Stewart would have a nervous breakdown upon entering Orin's kitchen. the average person would consider Orin's cooking to be a hate crime. if someone doesn't vomit uncontrollably upon first sight, she considers it an insult (she grew up with a gross misunderstanding of what a Roman vomitorium is). her spaghetti and meatballs is wrapping a handful of uncooked noodles in unseasoned ground meat (she neither knows nor cares whether it's fish or chicken or cow. meat is meat), then baking it in a casserole dish sprinkled with still-condensed tomato soup from a can. Midwestern casserole cooking brought to you by Hell. doesn't use salt because she finds it too spicy. she has an entire pantry section for savory jello

- Gortash: culinary techbro. kitchen is spilling over with unitasker gadgets ("and THIS contraption evenly distributes heat for the perfect boiled egg! what do you mean 'what else does it do'. it boils eggs perfectly i already told you, why the fuck weren't you listening"), and the most stupid, overengineered 'smart' devices ("no no no, you don't understand, this is so helpful. the fork connects to the plate to measure the temperature of the food, and then the plate changes color to warn me if it's too hot, and then i don't burn my tongue, because i really hate that"). despite all of the pricey kitchen shit that he keeps buying, he's skilled at making exactly one dish: microwaved Totino's pizza rolls

(i'm sorry if Gortash is out of character; my brain replaced his voice with John Oliver's and won't put the original back)

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Companion Edition

[beneathsilverstars]

@horatiocomehome replied

ooo how about jewelry taste. dangly earrings vs studs, do they wear bracelets, rings, flashy vs elegant, etc

mirabelle has so many cute trinkets! we know she loves accessories that go ding ding, and she'll layer a ton of necklaces so they knock against each other. sometimes they all match nicely, sometimes it's eclectic chic! she adores metal charms and carved beads, especially charmingly unusual shapes like an itty bitty fork, ducky, book, etc. as well as classics like lockets and bells! she tends to fidget with rings and lose track of them, so she avoids those. post-canon she decides to stop wearing earrings, so she turns her novelty earrings into bracelet/necklace charms! and gives her more basic studs to isabeau so he'll actually own some basics.

isabeau is all about shapes and contrast, so he likes chunky beads in materials like turquoise or jasper that have different shades marbled together, metal geometric shapes, wire-wrapped stone, and unique arrangements of elements. he likes funny noises too, but will go for one complicated necklace instead of multiple single strands. he definitely tends towards statement necklaces and earrings — he used to run into trouble because he only had statement pieces, so they would clash terribly, but then he started buying more matching sets. he loves bonding earrings as a romantic, but is a little torn because there's no way any two earrings could match all of his fits...

odile is the kind of person to pick a nice look and stick to it, so there's not much variety in her accessories. she has her glasses gems, a pair of pearl studs, a pair of silver studs, and a couple sentimental rings that she keeps somewhere safe instead of wearing. we know bonding earrings are popular in ka bue but not as universal as in vaugarde; i think it would be cute if ka bue had a whole language of earrings and rings, with different gem types/cuts/colors denoting different sorts of relationships and emotions. so she's got, like, a [daughter, you are the most important thing in my life] ring from her dad, and a [lover, we change each other] ring from an ex.

siffrin is all about sentimental pieces!! it doesn't really occur to him to buy himself jewelry, but isa or mira will see him looking at something in the market and buy it for him and suddenly the aesthetic appeal that sif had mildly enjoyed doesn't matter at all compared to They Gave This To Me. siffrin tends to be drawn towards solid shades or starry dots, and smooth, swirling shapes. isa also gets them stimmy pieces like a bumpy bangle or spinny ring, and mira gets them cute things that remind her of them like star pins or kitty charms. he's just so fun to give trinkets to, even bonnie and odile have gotten him some, so he's working up quite a collection! he carefully rotates through everything, and keeps some pieces in his pockets when he can't fit everything he wants onto his body or doesn't want to wear any jewelry that day.

bonnie's bracelet is smooth wood, and they're going to be very upset the day it no longer fits over their hand. they prefer non-rock materials like wood, shells, bones, and sea glass, because that's just way more fun! they made shell necklaces with nille all the time, so many that it doesn't matter how often they lose them.

loop goes full magpie! since they don't have to buy necessities like food, they're less careful about spending money than siffrin, plus they're more desperate to capture any scrap of joy. they also have a bit of "everyone else is an npc" brain and "i am both above and beneath normal rules", so they're more comfortable with stealing than siffrin is. they like drapey chains, black and white beads, and unusual pieces. they like the pressure stim of very heavy necklaces and the clack of many bracelets. once when one of their favorites broke they procured the tools to fix it, and started modifying the stuff they own and stringing trinkets onto chains!

[wildpeachfarm]

I'm late this conversation but ppl going into weird kid fandom spaces and being surprised weird kids are there is so frustrating. imagine walking into a kitchen and getting mad you saw a fork

also the whole shipping thing is so odd to me "you can ship xyz because they're not canon/they don't interact/they're real ppl" my brother in christ I used to ship Thomas Sanders in a prince costume with Emo Thomas Sanders. if you can't figure out how to ship two characters you're not trying hard enough

-baby fever anon

hehe yeah I think a lot of post-covid fandom babies don't know the roots in which fandoms were created were not perfectly logical/moral/aesthetically pleasing foundations, everyone just does whatever they want to do

[fisheito]

non horny ask: what kinda irl snake would Yakumo be? venomous or non venomous?

my instinct says venomous purely because that opens up the fun possibility of magical side effects whenever yakumo bites someone (i want his venom to have a mild numbing property so he can bite me and i can finally get a decent night's sleep)

i'm openinmg up the search gtengine for this (HEY SNAKE FREAKS IN THE AUDIENCE!! IF YOU HAVE SUGGESTIONS THEN SHOW THE CLASS 👉👇👈👐)

(spoiler alert: i am no closer to an answer than when i started. we're just looking at snakes together)

flashback: i once pointed at western worm snake and laughed because BABY

but let's assign yaku a larger counterpart for when he's feeling big and brave i briefly considered the nonvenomous approach but i'm gonna joke that yakumo has a bigger oral fixation>>squeezing fixation on eiden so uh, this snake is all about the mouthparts i guess

i mean.. the snakes that constrict will inevitably hoRMPH(gulp) too so it would be reasonable to make yaku a nonvenomous squeezer. but. my bias says venom time, ,today

considering his ridic Great Serpent ancestry, he's probably gonna have a potent venom so let's look up Hella Dangerous Bitey Boys *typetypetypeclickclaxke*

side thought: are some species generally more aggressive than others? or does it vary moreso by individual? hmm. let's see if we can find a danger noodle that's reeaaaallllllly not into using its fangs as a first response

..... .......... i'm overwhelmed by choice again so i'm gonna start relying on aesthetics by which i mean altho i love defaulting to boas for their :3 face

i feel like yaku would be more of a streamlined snake skull like the neck isn't distinguished very well from the head... I wANT to see him as :3 snake puppy face but i also need him to have zero structure. absolute jello. no bones. skullless. just a *USES LINE TOOL*

wait. if i rely on Looks does that mean i can only choose IRL snakes that are black or subdued colours? because yaku doesn't want to be perceived, after all........

[eyes start to glaze over] -nondescript colouring -venomous (perhaps potently so) -not aggressive?? the type to strike ONCE , or wait-- is he more of a multi-striker.. fast? no... he seems like he'd be slow..if Dark Nova/Shadow Lineage is any indication..? slow OHKO heavy hitter? no, not "slow". HESITANT heavy hitter? ... -heat sensing organs? or just drawn to the heat? THE TYPE TO ONLY PREY ON OTHER VENOMOUS SNAKES--no no that's not right yaku will eat everything uhhhhhh

[SHAKES MY HEAD VIOLENTLY LIKE A WET DOG REBOOT]

call me basic but i like the look of mambas....

(sadly the black mamba doesn't have black scales but LOOK AT THAT MOUF!!!!!!!!!!)

wait how about a snake that hangs out in east asia? MOUNTAIN KEELBACK????? lil diamonds all along the back .nice

LOOK AT THE MASSIVE ORBS on *THIS* keelback.......

would he be arboreal like those funky vine snakes? mmm.., unlikely? i don't think yaku has shown much of a desire for heights... at least not yet (flashback to Puzzling Investigation Blade's impromptu takeoff)

what about a rattlesnake??? err... nah... yaku doesn't seem like much of a defensive butt wiggler....

Now i'm rethinking my entire instinct on VENOMOUS because ...Dark Nova 2 had yaku going snake-ish and eiden was ALL UP IN HIS fangs but he didn't feel any ill effects besides, you know, the physical obstacle of yaku shoving forked tongue down his throat-- EURYJK WHAT DO I DO . look at more cool snakes

OKAY BUT WHERE ARE THOSE SNAKES WITH THE PRETTY LOWER LASHES LIKE THE EYELASH VIPER, BUt LOWER lashes???

CAN I GET A LOOK AT ONE OF THOSE? do they exist? did i hallucinate the glorious snake lower lashes? do they belong to another reptile? boo.......

WWAIT NO, RIGHT, THE EYES, I SHOULD HAVE STARTED WITH THE EYES THAT'S AN EASY WAY TO NARROW DOWN A YAKUSNAKE

ok.ok. slit eyes. but a lil squiggly. thunderbolt eyes? the creative freedom of it all. let's go with slit eyes but wibbled by tears...

HOLD UP ! HIS EYES LOOK LIKE A TOKAY GECKO'S . IS YAKUMO ACTUALLY JUST A REALLY LONG GECKO?????

DESCENDANT OF THE LEGENDARY GREAT GECKO...........