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crystalrabbit246912 · 5 months ago

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Bookbinder Yuu

So I should probably be focusing on my thank you fic for 1000 likes and 25 reblogs (there's probably more than that, but Tumblr only tells me about milestones, so thank you all so much for all of the likes, reblogs, and comments), but I had a thought and it's not leaving my mind, so I figured I might as well make this.

I've been getting into bookbinding lately (the process of making books) and I started imagining if Yuu was a bookbinder and their bookbinding tools got transported Twisted Wonderland along with them.

Imagine Yuu threatening people with an awl when they get upset, which happens a lot. (If you don't know what an awl is, either look it up or just know that it's a sharp tool) Ace, Grim, and Deuce to a lesser extent get threatened a lot, and Ace and Grim get stabbed a little so they know it's not an empty threat.

The carbonara guys in the cafeteria and Cater after he tricks them into painting the roses also get stabbed in Book 1, as well a lot of Savanaclaw guys in Books 2 and 3.

Basically all of the Overblot guys get stabbed at some point during their Overblot, and the few people that haven't been stabbed are Trey (although he got threatened in the library), Kalim (he's the only guy that's never been threatened), Epel (I don't know when, but he got threatened at some point), Lilia (though Yuu's definitely tried), and Silver (Yuu's considered pricking him to wake him up, but he's too nice for them to do that).

Moving onto something more wholesome, Yuu makes books as gifts for the squad. They made the Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, and Octavinelle guys fun, personalized books for Christmas, and some for Scarabia over break, and they always have a project going.

The first-years in particular are the ones that have gotten stabbed the least (minus Ace and Grim), so they get a bunch of random, really beautiful notebooks (mainly Deuce, Jack, Epel, and Sebek, since they'd actually use them), sketchbooks, and photo albums for Ortho, since he can actually use them.

The upperclassmen get less, but Yuu gives all of them at least two books at random points throughout the school year. Trey gets blank cookbook style books that he can write his recipes down in, Cater gets photo albums with covers that he can photograph for Magicam, Riddle gets actual notebooks, just with fun designs on the covers, because that's what he'd actually use.

Yuu tends to write down puzzles from their world in books for Leona, because that's something that he'd actually use, while I'm blanking on ideas for Ruggie.

Azul, Jade, and Floyd tend to get books at the same time, because Yuu doesn't want to risk upsetting one of them. The covers usually match for the Tweels and correlate with Azul's, or the Tweels get inverted designs while Azul's is similar. Inside, Azul and Jade get notebooks since they go to class and pay attention, though there's compliments and small mushroom doodles on the margins. Floyd would get sketchbooks, since he does have drawing moods occasionally.

Kalim and Jamil would usually get books at the same time as well because Yuu doesn't want Jamil to feel inferior to Kalim or something like that. Kalim usually gets sketchbooks because drawing is something fun for Kalim to do and Jamil gets either notebooks or empty cookbooks for him to fill.

Vil gets notebooks because Yuu doesn't know what else to give him, considering he's a celebrity, he can practically buy whatever he wants, so they don't expect him to really use them. (At the next joint class, they're really surprised to see him using a notebook they gave him.) Rook gets scrapbooks that he can fill with his Vil and Neige photos that he gets... somehow. Because he's Rook.

Idia either gets manga-style books that he can draw his own manga in or notebooks in which he can lore-dump for games, anime, or manga, or make theories about what happens next.

Malleus gets notebooks and he's really happy about them because they're gifts from his first friend, so he cherishes them. I have no ideas for either Lilia or Silver.

Crowley would ask Yuu why he never gets books despite the fact that he's so 'kind' to them, and they smack him in the face with a book to shut him up.

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dreamlandreader · 11 days ago

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Cruel Summer

Chapter One - A Recipe for Disaster

Merry Christmas @throneofsapphics - it is finally time for me to reveal myself as your Secret Santa for the @acotargiftexchange ❄️ It has been such a joy getting to know you over the past few months, and I've had the best time writing this fic. I really hope that you love this gift as much as I have loved working on it.

Summery: Nobody knows what happened between Mor and Elain last Winter Solstice. One day they were joined at the hip, giggling as the seer taught the warrior how to bake, and the next morning, they refused to look one another in the eyes. Sick of the tension, Rhysand and Feyre are hopeful that two weeks in the sun will be enough to help the pair rekindle a friendship, but the inner circle are oblivious to the fact that their relationship went much deeper than they know, and it will take a hell of a lot more than a beautiful beach to repair what was broken.

Story contains: Forced proximity, only one bed, second chance romance, lovers to enemies to lovers, angsty start with an eventual HEA.

The patrons of The Frosted Peak - Velaris's sparkling new fine dining restaurant - sat silently as they gawped at the family dispute breaking out before their very eyes.

The High Lord and his beguiling cousin sat centre stage amongst the crowd, but the gentle tinkling of piano keys and candle lit ambience did nothing to soothe the tension that was taught in the air.

“Absolutely not!” the warrior growled through gritted teeth.

“Mor, please just-”

“No, Rhysand! I am 540 years old. I do not need a babysitter!”

Mor had already suspected that Rhys had an ulterior motive when he invited her for dinner on such short notice. It was ever so rare for the two of them to dine alone these days, especially since Rhys had become a father. She knew she was going to dislike what he had to say when they arrived at the restaurant and Rhys began to skirt around the subject. Mor lasted five minutes before snapping and telling him to just ask what he wanted to ask.

“She is not a babysitter Mor, she is a very skilled seer who has been training tirelessly with Azriel and who needs the opportunity to practice what she’s learnt in the field,"

"The field! Rhys, it's a conference for emissaries in the Summer Court, it's basically a paid vacation!"

"It is still official court business and anything could happen. You need someone to support you if anything untoward happens, and she needs to prove to Azriel that she is ready for actual missions,"

“Sounds like a babysitter to me,” Mor mumbled, glaring at Rhysand so furiously that he feared she may set him alight through sheer willpower.

“Please do this for me. I don’t know what happened between you two last winter, but you were friends once, I’m sure you can get back there again,"

Mor continued to glower at her cousin, internally begging that he would back down, but Rhysand would not be backing down today. Not when he had been sent here by his mate.

“I'm serious Morrigan,”

“Ooh full name, boss man must mean business,” Mor quipped sarcastically, scrapping her chair across the hard wood floor, readying herself for a dramatic exit. That would show Rhys just how serious she was.

“If you can't do it for me then do it for Feyre,” Rhysand threw out, desperate for Mor to see sense.

“It's crushing her that she can't have her best friend and her sister in the same room without you both ending up at each other’s throats. Please, Mor,’

Mor contemplated for a moment telling him no, but then she thought of Feyre. Of all the sacrifices she had made for them all. Of how much she valued her friendship.

“It’s a damn good job that I love your wife!”

Elain Archeron had spent the last three weeks pretending that her upcoming trip was not happening. Three glorious weeks of ignorant bliss, that did not involve her dwelling on the dreadful adventure upon which she was due to embark. But present Elain was actually rather furious at past Elain for her decisions, because she had left every ounce of packing until the very last minute. This was why she sat on the cool floor of her bedroom surrounded by piles of clothing, as her sisters draped across her bed, giggling at the language coming out of the seer’s mouth.

“Elain, calm down,” Nesta drawled, a lopsided grin spread across her face. “I know you enjoy dressing up, but it’s not the end of the world if you take the fusha skirt instead of the magenta one,”

“It does matter! For starters, I have to blend in if I’m going to feed information back to Azriel. I also need to consider the heat because most of these clothes are far too warm for the Summer Court, and don’t even get me started on what she will have to say if I end up wearing a fashion disaster!”

“Elain, breathe!’ Feyre said, sliding off Elain’s plush bed and sinking onto the floor besides her sister.

“You will blend in just fine, you’ve trained so hard. I have every faith in you,” she smiled, softly holding Elain’s hand. “Secondly, if you are struggling with packing me and Nesta can help, can’t we Nes,”

“Mmmhmm” Nesta mumbled, face down in Elain’s pillows, lazily lifting her hand in a thumbs up motion.

“Look, Elain. Are you sure this is really about the clothes?” Feyre pried carefully, tiptoeing around the point.

“Huh,” Elain replied, scrunching her brows in confusion.

“I just mean are you sure that you’re not actually freaking out about spending time with Mor?”

“That’s ridiculous Feyre! Why would I care about that?” Elain screeched, her voice rising an octave and a rosy colour creeping across her cheeks.

“I just don’t understand how you and Mor went from barely interacting with one another, to joined at the hip, to enemies in a matter of weeks,”

“I don’t know. Sometimes people just don’t click that’s all,” Elain brushed her off, as if it was nothing. As if her sister’s investigation wasn’t ripping open a barely patched wound. As if Elain had not spent months agonising over the same thing, wondering what happened and how they had got themselves into such an uncomfortable situation.

“It didn’t seem like you were struggling to click last solstice,” Nesta interrupted, “We barely saw you because you were oh so busy getting to know each other,”

Nesta raised a brow and Elain’s heart sank … did she know? Had Nesta worked out the details of the worst heartbreak Elain had ever suffered.

She wished more than anything that she could tell her sisters everything. How she fell in love, slowly and then all at once. How she had placed her delicate heart in the hands of someone she thought felt just the same, only to watch them destroy it in front of her eyes. How she had been living, heartsick, and guarded ever since. She wished she could, but she couldn’t, because speaking it out loud would mean acknowledging the ache she felt in the depths of her soul, and no good would come from digging that up, not when she had spent so long pushing it down down down.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Elain whispered.

“But I just-” Feyre started.

“No! I just want to have one last night with my sisters before I’m stuck in another court for weeks. I’ve agreed to go so that I can be approved for actual missions. I will put up with her company and keep things professional. But I have so much to do before I leave, and I don’t want to spend the time I have talking about Morrigan. Please,”

“Fine. Fine,” Feyre said, raising her hands in surrender. “You and Nesta get started with the packing and I’ll go grab the wine!”

There was not much in life that Elain Acheron hated more than being late. Perhaps it was due to the etiquette lessons her Mother had forced her and Nesta into as children, or maybe she just appreciated punctuality. Either way, the clock was ticking ever closer to four pm and Mor had yet to show her face.

Elain began to pace, her heart fluttering relentlessly at the anticipation of coming face to face with the woman who had smashed her heart into pieces. They’d done a pretty successful job of avoiding one another over the months, but it had meant sacrifice. Avoiding each other unfortunately also meant avoiding the people they loved.

On the few occasions that they were forced into each others company, the weight of the air around them became suffocating. Harsh words were flung across the table, as vicious and deadly as daggers. Neither party seemed able to restrain themselves from snipping, despite the protests from everyone else in the room. It seemed that time was no great healer, no matter what the ancient poets said, things had only become worse the longer they went on.

"Elain, you are wearing a hole into my new flooring. Please stand still, I beg of you," Feyre implored, guiding her sister into a chair.

Elain shot up again immediately, and continued to pace, and rant, and pace some more.

“Where is she! We have to leave in five minutes Feyre!” Elain screeched, making her sister jump.

“Four actually,” Mor drawled, having slipped unnoticed into the grand entrance of the River House with Rhysand whilst Elain was mid tirade.

Elain stopped dead in her tracks, and span on her heel. It felt like the blood had frozen in her veins, like time itself had melted away. Mor stood, beautiful as ever, with utter contempt consuming her features. Silence rang through the room like a warning bell, begging Elain to run, to hide, but she wouldn’t. Not any longer. After all, she had done nothing wrong. It was Mor who had lied. Elain had nothing to be ashamed of.

“You will both make it with plenty of time Elain, don’t fret,” Rhysand spoke soothingly, patting her arm as he passed and settled next to his mate.

“Mor here was simply primping and fussing over what to pack. But, she is here now, aren’t you?” He continued, smiling over to his cousin who fixed him with a deadly glare.

“And you are both sure to have a wonderful time,” Feyre finished enthusiastically, far more hopeful than the rest of the room.

“Pfft,” Mor scoffed, at the same time that Elain mumbled something equally as obstructive under her breath.

“Are we going then, seeing as you are oh so desperate to keep to schedule?” Mor asked, paling somewhat as she offered Elain her arm. Dread swept over Elain’s body like an icy wave, as her hand made contact with Mor’s bare arm. Feyre was wrong, this was not going to be a wonderful time. This was going to be a total disaster.

The second that Mor's feet touched the white sands of Adriata she tore her arm away from Elain and put a healthy amount of space between them.

The turquoise sea glittered under the boiling midday sun, lapping gently at the shore, but the calming scene did nothing to ease the anxiety that swirled in Mor's chest. To feel Elain’s touch once more after so long without it had thrown her completely, the skin of her arm still tingling. With her closeness came a flurry of memories, of soft caresses and urgent grasping.

Mor snapped herself out of her thoughts. It would do her no good to sink into memories that were once so warm, but were now twisted with a tinge of guilt and a bucket load of resentment.

“Neither of us wants to be here. Let’s just make the most of it and stay out of each other’s way,” Mor asserted, daring to glance at Elain, whose loathing was written across her face.

“Fine with me,” Elain replied, offering Mor only her back as she turned and walked towards their accommodation, a hauty sway in her step.

“One room,” Elain squeaked.

“With one bed!” Mor spluttered, wide eyes taking in the hotelier with desperation.

“I thought we’d have separate rooms,” Elain stated plainly.

“With separate beds!” Mor exclaimed.

“I’m sorry ladies, but we were not aware that Ms Acheron would be accompanying you on your travels, and all of our rooms are fully booked,”

“And there is really nothing we can do?” Elain asked. She had paled considerably upon hearing the news. Not only would she be sharing a room with her ex lover, but a damn bed. White hot claws of anxiety punctured her chest. This trip was brewing to be a total nightmare.

“I’m afraid not. I can provide extra blankets and pillows if you want to try and fix a bed on the floor?” The hotelier offered, sensing the discomfort radiating off her two newest guests.

“Thank you. That would be very helpful.” Mor said quietly, clearly resigned to the idea that avoiding each other was now not so simple after all.

As they both slumped up the staircase to their room, Elain fought the memories of the last time the two had shared a bed. It was a rush of tangled limbs and searing heat, purposefully placed kisses and fumbling hands. It was nothing short of incredible. Until the next morning, when Elain had woken to an empty bed.

“I’ll take the floor,” Mor stated coolly, breaking Elain from her thoughts as she threw the bundle of bedsheets and pillows onto the ground.

Looking around at the room Elain suppressed the idea that in drastically different circumstances she’d be squealing with joy. The room was pleasantly sized, perfect for one person, or even two if they were willing to make themselves cosy. A beautiful arched window looked out onto the sea, reflecting oranges and pinks with the setting sun. The bed looked luxurious. Although it was on the smaller side, she knew the second she sat down, that she’d sink delightfully into the plush mattress.

“You aren’t taking the floor, don’t be ridiculous!” Elain grumbled.

“Pardon me?” Mor replied, her brows furrowed in confusion.

“We are both fully grown adults, I’m sure we can handle sharing a bed,”

“Thanks but no thanks, I’d rather take the floor,” Mor quipped, writing the idea off quickly before she even considered it.

“Fine. I should’ve known you’d act like a child,” Elain huffed, rolling her eyes.

“I am not a child!” Mor snapped, a hot rage beginning to burn behind her eyes.

“Sure,” Elain replied sarcastically, striding for the door. “I’m going to get some food. Do as you please,”

Elain felt Mor's eyes on her as she strode out of the room towards the oak staircase, feeling ever so smug that she had the last word.

Mor had spent an hour stomping around the room, unpacking her bags and seething over her conversation with Elain. How dare she act as though Mor was the child? After everything that had happened between them. After everything she had done! No, Mor was most definitely the adult. It was Elain who had acted like a teenager. Fickle, and thoughtless. It was her who had treated Mor's heart like it was worthless. Well Mor was ready to show her just how mature she could be.

Plonking herself down onto the bed, Mor huffed as she surrounded herself with the luxurious sheets and turned her back firmly to the door.

It seemed like hours passed before Mor heard the door snick open, though barely twenty minutes must have passed. Just long enough for Mor to fight off the memories that so desperately longed to be on her mind.

Mor lay silent, feigning sleep, as Elain began to pad around the room in an effort to prepare herself for bed. When Mor felt the weight of Elain joining her in bed, she had to stifle an intake of breath. The sweet scent of rum seemed to drift through the air as Elain adjusted the blankets, and the slightest brush of their legs had Mor unravelled.

No longer able to fight against the memories that flooded her brain, she decided to let them in, oblivious to the fact that right next to her, Elain was also lost in the same thoughts.

~ 6 Months Prior ~

The River house was full of revelry. Laughter bounded around the room, eyes bright and cheeks flushed with joy. Wine flowed freely as Elain entered with desert propped carefully in her hands.

The three tiered cake towered high in the centre of the table as she gently placed it down. The inner circle looked on in awe at the masterpiece. Elain had decorated the cake with a multitude of pastel colours, pinks, blue and purples made up a scene of a beautiful sky and spun sugar adorned the sides like fluffy delicious clouds.

‘Elain, once again you’ve outdone yourself’ Rhys beamed.

‘A true artist!’ Feyre added, painting a soft blush along Elain’s cheeks.

‘Yes Elain you are truly wonderful, but please can we eat it now!’ Mor whined, plate at the ready.

‘You’re just jealous, Mor,’ Cassian smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

‘Jealous?’ Mor replied, her eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

‘I think he means because you can’t bake, dearest cousin,’ Rhys said.

‘I can bake!’ Mor scoffed, rolling her eyes.

‘Mor do you not remember the bread incident?’ Azriel suggested gingerly.

‘That was one time Azriel!’ She responded, whipping her head in his direction and fixing him with a pointed stare.

‘What bread incident?’ Elain enquired curiously.

‘The girl made a loaf of sour dough that was raw on the inside but burnt to a crisp on the outside, it was quite the feat,’ Amren stated, lazily sipping from her glass.

‘Sour dough is hard!’ Mor was quick to clarify, shrinking a little in her seat. Elain eyed her carefully and was surprised to see that the warrior, who never seemed to be anything but confident, looked mildly embarrassed.

‘I can help teach you to bake if you’d like?’ Elain blurted out without thinking twice. Mor’s warm brown eyes flicked up to meet Elain’s and her heart began to race at the attention.

‘You’d really do that?’ Mor said

‘Of course,’ Elain smiled softly. She had always silently admired Mor, her strength and femininity so intrinsically intertwined that she didn’t have to give up one in order to wield the other. She would never admit it out loud, but when she first began to train with Azriel and the sessions felt unbearably difficult, she would picture Mor’s powerful presence and it would motivate her to keep moving forward.

‘Good luck with that’ Cassian muttered under his breath, swiftly followed by an ‘Ow!’ when Mor smacked his arm.

‘I bet you 500 gold marks that by this time next month I can bake a cake as grand as any bakery in Pythian!’ Mor stated, determination flaring in her face. ‘With lovely Elain’s tutelage of course!’ She smiled.

And so they began to meet and bake. At first it was planned they would meet twice a week, but after the second session that increased to every two days. Their baking lessons were filled with laughter and accidental touches which caused heat to bloom in places that neither party was yet willing to admit. Before long both were making excuses to see each other every single day. Whether Elain had found a new technique she thought Mor might want to help her with, or if Mor had come to Elain for advice on how to make tiny fondant flowers - they were spending every waking moment in each others company.

Then three weeks in to their arrangement something shifted. Elain floated into the kitchen of the River house bright and early to make herself a pot of lavender tea, only to see that Mor was already pottering about. Her back was to the door as she hummed a little tune to herself, fussing with something out of Elain’s sight.

‘Hi,’ Elain said softly, smiling as she leant in the doorway.

‘Oh Elain you made me jump!’ Mor clutched at her heart as she span around, hiding whatever she was working on so carefully.

‘Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you. What are you doing up so early?’ Elain moved into the room, trying to see what Mor was blocking from her view.

‘I - well I wanted to make you something. As a thank you! But uh it’s - well it’s better if I just show you I guess,’

Elain could sense the nervousness vibrating from Mor as she gingerly moved out of the way, and presented her with a very runny looking raspberry tart.

‘I had put edible flowers on top. I thought you’d like them. But they sank to the bottom,’ Mor explained, her eyes looking to the floor.

‘I love it!’ Elain whispered, her eyes lined with tears as emotion bubbled in her throat.

‘What? It’s inedible how can you love it!’ Mor sputtered, perplexed at how anyone could appreciate her failed attempt at a thank you.

‘Because you put so much thought into it! No one has ever made me anything before. Thank you!’ She replied, nothing but genuine joy written across her face.

Elain leaned up on the tips of her toes and placed the most gentle of kisses on Mor’s cheek. Her lips tingled, and her heart swelled in her chest. Hearing the light gasp in her ear, she pulled away, slowly, leaving their faces only inches away. This close to the warrior, Elain could make out every tiny detail of Mor’s face. She could have stayed there all day, counting the freckles before her, mapping the constellations of her face, but she knew one of them would have to speak soon.

‘Mor I -‘

Elain never had the chance to finish her thought, as Mor leaned in and kissed her. It started slow at first, tentative pecks and trembling hands. After a while Elain felt Mor’s mouth part and they deepened the kiss, heat swelling between them. It was far from the first kiss Elain had ever shared with another, but it was the first time she felt so light that she could fly. Mor sucked gently on Elain’s lip, eliciting a soft groan, before pulling away, bursting into giggles and leaning in once more.

Elain broke from her reverie. Remembering just how good things were at the beginning hurt so ferociously now that she knew how it ended. She couldn’t let herself get swept up again. No matter how much her heart longed for Mor. No matter how much it hurt to remind herself over and over how it was never meant to be. She had to let it go, she thought as she began to drift off to sleep. It was the only way she would ever make it through the next two weeks.

A/N - Ah I’m so happy I finally got to share this, I’ve been bursting to share the first chapter of this gift for such a long time and it’s finally out in the world!

The next chapter will be out soon and it gets spicier from here so it is definitely one to look forward to! ❤️‍🔥 I really hope that you’ve enjoyed the story so far!

Check out my masterlist here!

Dividers by the incredible - @tsunami-of-tears

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #morlain #mor x elain #mor x elain archeron #morrigan x elain archeron #morrigan x elain #acotar fanfiction #acotar gift exchange

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judesmoonbeauty · 3 days ago

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New Year Blog Goals

Hey, hey!

In short, this is a thanks to you all for your support this year, JMB blog overhaul updates, and blog goals for 2025!

And in case you all don't read it (and that's cool): I wish you all heaps of happiness and warmth for the upcoming year!

So, I just wanted to take the time to sit down and thank you all so much for your support of my blog this past year!!

It was a bit crazy with my blog being reported and having a handful of my translations deleted by Tumblr (still traumatized by that), to personal irl things that happened with the weather and such. Anyways......

I started this blog just over a year ago solely to lurk for IkePri and IkeVil JP spoilers, but because I am impatient beyond words I decided to start playing JP servers myself.

One thing snowballed into another, and then I started translating and writing fanfics (which I thought I'd NEVER do)....and here we are.

Looking back to my very first translation (IkePri's New Year Event for 2024), I shudder....a lot. And then there is my first ever IkeVil translation (Ellis' Past Records), and I shudder even more......they are nightmares of a translation.

Still, looking back to then and comparing them to what I can accomplish now, I think I've come a long way and I hope to continue to progress.

And you all are to thank for that!

Truly, if it weren't for your feedback, kind words of support, your totally going feral with me, and so on, then I don't think I would've kept going!

Now then, this past January I had the most feeble and basic blog goal: Learn how to create master lists. LMAO.

Tumblr was so confusing to me when I first started, and it's still a pain in the ass to deal with tbh, but I think I can safely say that I accomplished that goal. I feel like I make master lists left and right now....

What's Next For JMB Blog?

Well, I am going to be making some changes to JMB overall:

Going forward, JMB will solely be my Ikevil translations blog. All creative content (dissections, fics, drabbles, OC content, IkeVil recipes, etc), will be moved to my other blog @.adreaminthesea.

Master lists will be reorganized so you can locate translations more easily.

IkePri translations: I've been wanting to return to this, but I feel like this will not happen in the future. Hence, past translations and summaries will be discarded now they've released on EN.

Finish Jude's Main Story prior to his release. I actually have a goal to finish this much sooner than late next year (but I'll keep that date to myself.)

Translate for more IkeVil suitors. Currently, I translate primarily for Jude, Ellis and Nica. While I do translate for the other suitors as well, I'd like to do it more - when time and energy permits.

Another IkeVil Main Story translation - However, this will potentially be a collaborative effort. Anyone up for a Vogel route???

More of a personal enrichment goal, but this will hopefully increase the quality of my translations: Dedicate more time to learning Japanese. I learn as I go and that's not the way to do it.

Writing: I used to write a lot more than what I do, and my wips list is longggg, so I'm hoping to get back into this and post my content on my ADS blog.

Have fun and engage with you all more! This means taking time to actually enjoy the events I play, reading others translations more (I am SO behind), and interacting with you all more.

I think that's a good list to keep me busy all year. Of course, adjustments are going to be made along the way, and I already know that I won't be able to accomplish it all fully. Still, let's see what we can do.

#c's corner #JMB blog updates #Blog goals #pardon my dust #dividers: @.strangergraphics & @.natimiles

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katsu28 · 1 year ago

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hii!! i love your writing (especially your ted lasso works, although, i am a tad bit biased), and i was wondering if you could do 'orange rose' for the flower prompts with my bby sam obisanya? i've noticed an extreme lack of fics about him, but i absolutely adore him

thank you so much my dear!! sam is such a ray of sunshine and such a criminally underrated character and he deserves so much more love (and i will give it to him)

orange rose: experiencing constant as well as distracting thoughts of the other person, sam obisanya x reader, reader is the team physio (except my medical knowledge is basically nonexistent pls forgive any concussion inaccuracies oops), 1.3k

Sam’s mind was not with him on the pitch today. He’d been distracted during practice before, but never like this. He attributed it to you. It was always you.

He saw you everyday, sometimes even multiple times a day, always volunteering to pop into the treatment room if one of the boys needed ice or tape. Sometimes he visited you without having an actual reason other than wanting to talk to you for a little bit. You were always a nice change from locker room talk (and you smelled a lot nicer too).

You plagued his thoughts day in and day out, often distracting him from whatever he was doing because he was too busy thinking about what it would be like to do things with you. Mundane things like making breakfast together. Taking an evening stroll around Richmond. Helping him test out new recipes for Ola's.

There was a rather specific reason why you were the source of his distraction today, though.

-------

Sam heard his name echo through the empty car park, looking up from his phone in bewilderment that soon turned to joy when he spotted you jogging towards him.

He slowed his pace to a crawl, giving you time to fall into step with him on the way towards the facility entrance. You looked almost unbearably pretty like you always did.

“Good morning,” He said cheerfully, smiling brightly at you. “How was your night?”

“Good! I stayed in, so it was pretty quiet, just the way I like it.” Your arm brushed against his as you moved to let another person squeeze past you, and Sam swore his heart raced double time in his chest. He had to ward off thoughts of spending quiet nights with you before you noticed him acting weird. “Any fun plans tonight after training?”

“Yes, actually! One of my friends is having their engagement party at Clos Maggiore, near the Royal Opera House. Maybe you know it?”

“No way! I’ve been dying to try that place, but the waitlist is miles long. I’d probably be geriatric by the time I could get a table.” You sighed, offering him a shrug. A brilliant plan sprung to Sam’s mind at that very moment, and he decided to take the plunge and outright ask you what he wanted to.

“Would you maybe want to go with me?” He asked, rocking back on his heels nervously. The corners of your mouth turned up into a small, hopeful smile. “As my date.” He added, praying that he wasn’t overstepping his bounds.

That got a much bigger smile out of you, a beam whose magnitude could quite possibly rival the sun, in his opinion. It was one of Sam’s favorite things about you.

“I would love to be your date, Sam.”

“Really?”

“‘Course. Dunno if you’d noticed, but I like you.”

Sam’s answer was immediate. “I like you too.”

He wanted to continue the conversation so badly, but you’d somehow arrived at the locker room without him even noticing. Normally he’d make an attempt to prolong the conversation, offering to walk you to your office, but he could see most of the team already booted up and ready to train.

“I have to go.” He said, sounding a touch disheartened. You must’ve noticed, because you snaked your hand into his for a quick second, squeezing fondly before dropping your hand back down to your side.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tonight then. Six o’clock? Don’t be late.” You called, backpedaling down the corridor with another sunshine smile aimed his way. Sam nodded furiously.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

-------

“Sam! Sam, watch—”

Sam shook himself out of his thoughts, but not in time to see the ball hurtling right towards his face.

Had he been paying attention, he would’ve seen the beautiful cross-field pass Jamie had lofted his way upon seeing that he was unmarked. Since he wasn’t, it slammed into the side of his head, sitting him right down on his ass in a sprawl of limbs.

There was a symphony of shouts and the boys were by his side in an instant, crowding around him nervously as they waited to see if he was okay. Sam sat up slowly, rubbing his temple with a bewildered look aimed at his teammate.

“You were lookin’ right at me, man, I thought you were open!” Jamie protested, raking his hands through his hair. “Did I break anything??”

“Yeah bruv, did he crack your skull?”

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Do you remember how much money I owe you?” That one was Jan Maas, and it earned him an elbow to the gut. “What? I don’t want to pay him.”

“Sam! Do me a favor and come over here a sec!” Ted called, beckoning Sam over to the sidelines. “The rest of you boys head on over to Coach Beard for defense drills, chop chop!”

With another shake of his head, Sam headed over. “Yes, Coach?”

“First of all, you alright, son? Pretty nasty knock to the noggin you just got.” Ted looked genuinely concerned, but when Sam nodded, his mouth flattened into a rather disappointed line. “Good. Glad you’re okay. Second of all, your head’s further away from this pitch right now than E.T. from his home. Wanna tell me what’s going on, or do I gotta get all stern coach on you and make you tell me?”

“Sorry Coach, I am just…” Sam trailed off, racking his brain for the right word to describe how he was feeling without having to tell Ted that he was distracted because he was thinking about you. Telling his coach he wasn’t one hundred percent into his training was definitely not a good move. “It’s nothing. I promise I won’t lose focus again. You have my word.”

Ted tilted his head at the young player, as if contemplating whether or not to force the reason out of it. Eventually, he just shrugged. “Alright, well, why don’t you mosey on over to the treatment room to pay the good doc a visit? See if she can’t fix you up, make you right as rain again.”

Sam nodded, his eagerness to get back onto the pitch (and maybe at the prospect of seeing you again, even for just a little bit) sending him hurrying through the facility quickly.

The door to the treatment room was ajar when he arrived, but he knocked anyway, poking his head in to scan for you.

“You just couldn’t wait until after training to see me again, hm?” You sighed, smiling at him warmly from where you were looking over a chart. Sam offered a rather bashful smile and a soft greeting back, boots clicking on the floor as he shuffled into the small room. “Alright, come sit. Tell me what happened.”

“The ball hit me in the head.” He mumbled, his cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. You clicked your tongue, fingers pressing against his scalp for any bumps or abnormalities. Your touch and close proximity made him shiver, but he liked to think he kept it under wraps quite well.

“Do you have any nausea? Dizziness? Trouble remembering things?” Sam shook his head. He enjoyed being doted on by you, even if you were just doing your job. You patted his cheek goodnaturedly. “Well, other than that nice sized bruise where I’m assuming the ball hit you, I’m not seeing any signs of concussion.”

“Thank god. I would’ve hated to disappoint the team.”

“Just take this cold pack and ice your head for a while. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off, and repeat. The swelling should go down fairly soon, but I want you to let me know if you start feeling off.” You went to grab a bag of ice and a washcloth to wrap it in as you spoke. Sam’s eyes never left you, even when you came back to place the cold pack in his hand. “Would hate to lose out on Clos Maggiore because you got knocked on the head.”

He nodded slowly, bringing the ice up to his head. “So you are only using me for my connections, I see.”

“Pretty obvious, innit?” You winked playfully and getting hit in the head suddenly didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world. “Right, well you should get back to the pitch. Tell Ted you’re cleared for training after you ice.”

“Yes, doctor.” He hesitated a moment, then crossed the room to press a quick kiss to your cheek before he could chicken out. “See you tonight.”

Had he stayed a second longer, he would’ve seen how big your smile had gotten at the simple action.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

#sam obisanya #sam obisanya x reader #sam obisanya x you #sam obisanya x y/n #sam obisanya one shot #sam obisanya fic #sam obisanya fluff #ted lasso tv

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icarustypicalfall · 1 year ago

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HEAD CANONS!!

how cod men would use their phones

this is my first time doing head canons lmao if its bad just forget it 😭 i tried to be realistic but that was extremely dump lmaoo

warnings: none, totally sfw and maybe funny? 😀

captain john price

honestly, i see him as the type of people who'll lecture you when they see you using a phone, while he plays candy crush and similar games on a loop when he's alone. he isn't much interested in social media, maybe he'll use Twitter for infos and What's up to talk with his team. Otherwise, he'd be a Facebook dad watching videos with that annoying laugh on full volume while cackling. Gaz tried to convince him to use other platforms but it resulted in Price giving him a 10 minutes lecture on how bad social media is.

(john secretly watch tiktok video complications on YouTube)

simon ghost riley

he doesn't use his phone much, he knows how it can be addicting and he has much things on his mind to worry about being social with others. although, he looks for dad jokes and have a laugh at them when he's alone. his camera roll is full of blurry pictures he took by mistake and screenshots of recipes.

kyle gaz garrick

he's the youngest and the one who convinced price into buying a phone. i think Kyle is the the type of people who'd be popular on every platform, twitter, Instagram, you name it. he's funny (also really handsome 🤭) which makes it easy for him to have much moots and friends. He watches streams or horror stories at 2 am. (spoiler: he got scared more than once)

johnny soap Mactavish

he watches shitty shows on Netflix to complain about them. he loves, and i mean really loves annoying people with stupid meaningless Messages when he's bored. if you are texting him, god be with you, this man makes 20 typos in a single word. he'd make comments on random posts to fight people for months.

"jus fer fun lass/lad"

(sorry if this isn't how Scottish people actually talk I've seen it around in fics 😭)

he looses arguments most of the time and asks Alejandro for some back up.

Alejandro vargas

he uses his phone to call only, he despises texting and if he did, it'll be like this

you:"when shall i meet you tomorrow?"

Alejandro:"9"

you:"pm?"

Alejandro:"👍🏻"

although, he takes lots of pictures, sends them to you most of the time. rudy forced him to make an Instagram account and he ended by liking it.

rudy parra

this cute man 🤭💕 he might be a military man, but he has a soft spot for cute videos of pepole taking care of animals. he'd watch them for hours. he doesn't use his phone much due to his job but he's keeps up with the trends and explains them to you if you're confused.

i can see him using this one a lot :3

Phillip graves

he hates social media, he uses what's up to send to his shadows shirtless pictures of him. he'd drop the most heart wrenching pic ever and say"what's for dinner" (you sir 🤭)

he secretly loves watching those videos of reddit stories, he knows it's probably fake but he lives for the drama and enjoys it.

-fin-

i hope y'all like it, it's shitty and short lmao.

i Just got up from a nap lmao can't believe people actually liked my other work

shall i do other operaters from like Kor-Tac and ghosts? (and yes i know König is in Kor-Tac)

*just realized I didn't add tags im

✨d u m p ✨*

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again-and-then · 3 months ago

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Random Pride, Envy, Wrath Headcanons

just gonna do the main girls for this one, a few quick thoughts I've had on their personality as I've been working

Lute:

All Exorcists are given a purpose when they are created, which is usually just ‘to be an Exorcist’ but Lute and Vaggie were given unique purposes which is why they tend to be more impressive specimen. Lute's purpose was to be ‘The Perfect Soldier', a concept which defined much of her personality and skills.

Lute is by far the most physically capable of all known Exorcists with physical strength and durability to rival a lesser Overlord, though she is considered rather slow in terms of dexterity and flight speed

As part of being the perfect soldier, Lute is very quick to pick up new forms of combat and can become a master of any weapon or fighting style with minimal training time

In contrast, Lute is incredibly slow to pick up non-combat skills but her stubborn nature means she will dedicate years or even decades to master specific skills. Most of the skills she has cultivated were to suit Adam's interests as such she is a good singer, can play several varieties of string instruments and is unbeatable at the Royal Game of Ur (though she mostly lets Adam win)

Cooking is Lute's ultimate bane, in 256 years of life she has only mastered a single recipe

Lute is not afraid of fire but grows increasingly uncomfortable around open flames for reasons she doesn't understand

A good soldier should be especially perceptive in order to recognize threats, Lute has hawk like vision and is very good at picking up even the smallest details in the rush of combat.

Despite her repeated insistence that she is not French, Lute does enjoy French cuisine. Her favorite type of cheese is Brie and though she's not particularly big on sweets she will fight someone over a Creme Brulee.

Her favorite kind of meat is venison, just not in the gross roadkill way Alastor eats it.

Charlie:

It's been touched on in the fic but Charlie actually has a pretty volatile temper that she struggles to control, which is why it's pretty common to see her true form poking through whenever she's upset.

Because of this temper, it's not unheard of for Charlie to get into fights if she gets really, really angry but she prefers to remain a pacifist as much as she can due to the fact that Charlie is deathly afraid of actually hurting or possibly killing someone if she loses control of her powers.

Charlie's primary form is what she believes to be the perfect blend of ‘almost human but not quite’ she wants Sinners to be comfortable around her and believes showing too much of her demonic traits would put them off. She is capable of looking fully human, but thinks it would remind Sinners too much of their past mortal lives.

Charlie adores human fantasy books and collects them. She finds the weird and unique ways that humans interpret magic and myth to be utterly fascinating and especially loves anything with a hopeful and uplifting tone, contrary wise she thinks Grimdark books are boring and dumb (she already live in Hell). She really wants to start a book club in the hotel.

Charlie was definitely a lot more of a spoiled princess in her late teen years, spending most of her time in the lower rings, enjoying the luxury of her family's wealth and position, partying with Demon nobility, and occasionally getting into trouble… definitely didn't have anything to do with her parents often being too busy with politics or personal projects and Charlie acting out to get attention or anything. These days Charlie dislikes this period of her past and regrets not becoming involved with trying to help the Sinners earlier.

Seviathan definitely encouraged this former side of Charlie and often brought out the worst in her.

Incredibly physically affectionate, Charlie loves giving and receiving public displays of affection and tends to try to spoil Vaggie with gifts whenever Vaggie let's her.

Vaggie

At her creation, she was given the purpose ‘to be a Tactician’ because while Lute was an absolute machine in combat, even Adam had to admit her ability to organize the Exorcist Army was dogshit.

Vaggie is naturally inclined towards organization, can process information quickly and has excellent memory retention.

Vaggie is definitely the smart one

The duty of a tactician isn't to take the lead but rather to inform and advise. She rarely takes the initiative on projects and tends to gravitate towards the position of second in command.

Grade A nerd, but she hides it fairly well. Vaggie discovered Anime when it first came to be and has been an avid fan of the art form ever since. She used to watch it with Lute (who mostly just liked to watch the fights) and has since managed to convince Charlie to join her.

Used to really enjoyed Real Time Strategy games but now playing them makes her feel guilty about her role in the Exorcists, so she has managed to fill the void with City builders and business sim games

After her encounter with Carmilla, she learned that her natural dexterity translates really well into dance and visits the Overlord once a week for lessons.

In terms of strength, Vaggie is solidly average by Exorcist standards, making her only a bit stronger than a normal human but she makes up for this by being one of the fastest and most dexterous. Especially in terms of flight, Vaggie held records for her speed and maneuverability. This is why it was such a tragedy that Vaggie lost her wings, though with her new wings she is rapidly regaining her speed and actually thinks she might be able to surpass her top speed given some time and practice.

Very easily embarrassed by public affection, won’t say no but she blushes so hard you could use her like a flashlight

#pew au #pride envy wrath #charlie morningstar #lute hazbin hotel #vaggie hazbin hotel

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din-miller · 2 years ago

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ACTIONS HAVE CONSEQUENCES

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: pirates come looking for Grogu but find you alone in the cabin instead

Warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of decapitation, no angst, yeah you read that right decapitation but no angst to be found in this bad boy, it's just comical trash, crack fic really, reader is a sarcastic asshole, married couple, slightly unhinged reader, Din even more so and don't get me started on Grogu, cabin fic, mentions of Moff Gideon, mentions of med-school drop out reader,

A/N: this started off as a serious fic full of sorrow, then somehow turned into a night time comedy special. I'm proud of myself.

You don't normally let Din and Grogu head to the marketplace without you, but you woke up with a sore throat this morning and it hasn't gone away. You tried to convince your husband to let you join them. Fresh air would do you good, you had helplessly reasoned.

"Fresh air does nothing for sore throats. Rest does though mesh'la." Din argued back.

"Oh I didn't realise you were the one who dropped out of med school."

Needless to say, you didn't win that argument.

So now you're stuck in a cabin that you didn't know could be so quiet. For there only being three of you, the house is constantly loud. To be fair Grogu is now speaking in full sentences.

You've been alone before without them, but this time there's something unsettling. Like a bad omen is lurking in the daylight.

You should've contacted Din the moment the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. But you didn't and now you're standing in the living room with two men as you stare down the barrel of a blaster.

"You're going to regret this," You sighed, dramatically, "Look, I'm currently in the middle of making dinner and I have a sore throat. Can we get this over with?"

The tall one – let's call him Lance – glanced over at the short one – Manny. Yeah, that suits him – and sent him a baffled look.

"Where's The Child?" Manny growled and despite knowing you'll win this, you always do, your stomach turned at knowing they're here for your son.

With a shrug you crossed your arms non threateningly, "It's just me here. I'll let you know if I see a child though."

Lance glanced around the room, "You have a lot of kids toys for not having a kid."

"What? A person can't have a hobby?" You raised your brow, acting mildly offended.

Manny stepped forward, hand tightening around his weapon, "Enough! I know you have The Child. Give him to us and we won't kill you. Deal?"

"A deal?" You scoffed, "Why the hell would I make a deal with some lousy pirate? You're not even holding your blaster properly."

He looked down at his weapon, brows drawn tightly together, "I'm not?"

You tisked and pointed to the gun, "Allow me?"

When he gave a small nod you stepped forward, "Here, one hand grips right here... Good, now loosen this hand."

As soon as the blaster is loose enough you grabbed it out of his hand and pressed it against the lower region of his body. He froze, eyes going comically wide.

Lance, being weaponless already, raised his hands in an act of surrender. Honestly when you first felt like you were being watched you thought it would be a little more exciting than this. There's always next Monday you guess.

"You two are actually doing me a favour, bearing you don't have any allergies," You waited for them to shake their heads, "Good. Follow me into the kitchen. See, I've been trying out a recipe for my husband and I's anniversary – it's this weekend, you're not invited. Anyways, I'm not sure I have the correct level of spice to it."

"I'm sure your husband will enjoy it."

"Thank you Lance," You smiled and held a fork full of spicy food to his mouth. You watched as he took in the flavour and deemed it plenty spiced enough, "I'll get you boys a plate full."

Your eyes darted back and forth as they ate, taking in every reaction they had to each bite. It's a silent meal, rather uncomfortable for them you imagine.

Manny set down his fork, "This is our last meal isn't it?"

You blew out a breath, "Sometimes you gotta learn the hard way that your actions have consequences."

Lance politely raised his hand, "Can I have a glass of water?"

"Unfortunately, Lance, you can't. You know why? Because you're trying to murder my family, that's why." You growled, then cocked your head towards the door leading outside, "Now do I have to tie you both to the porch or can I trust you to behave and sit like good boys?"

"We'll behave," Lance said, stepping over the cabin's entry doorway, "Right Manny?"

The short man huffed, "I ain't itching for a blaster fire to the back, Lance."

They both sat on the bench and leaned back against the wall. You took a seat opposite of them, perched on top of the railing you had installed after you moved in.

"Who do you work for?" You asked, blaster twirling in your hand, safety on.

Manny rolled his eyes, "We work for ourselves."

You hummed, "Why us? Why the kid?"

"Figured it would be an easy target now that the Mandalorian is dead."

For the first time since he interrupted your day, you're taken back at his words, "Dead, you say?"

"Yeah, in the fight with Moff Gideon." Lance explained, "We heard you adopted his son."

You have to give him credit for knowing at least that part. You did adopt Grogu. Married Din the same day too.

How many people out there think Din's dead? And who's the dumbass that thought Moff Gideon could kill Din?

Your eyes narrowed in on Lance when his jaw dropped and you could see the faint shine of sweat gathered at his temple, "Am I seeing things?"

"Oftentimes yes, but that's him," Manny shrunk in on himself, eyes forward in horror, "That's the Mandalorian."

You look back behind you, your eyes locking in on your husband. He looks furious, even underneath all his armour. His blaster is already in his hand and floating beside him is Grogu. Your son has his hand held up directly in front of him, eyes squinted – a warning.

This is the proudest you've ever been.

"Ner kar'ta," Din's hands are on you, moving different parts of your clothing around searching for a wound he won't find, "Are you okay?"

Lance nodded, "A little parched – oh, you're not talking to me, right that makes more sense."

You smiled down at the man. He's absolutely hopeless, but it gives him a fun personality. Too bad he has to die.

"I'm okay, I promise," You reassured him, "How was the marketplace?"

"Dull without you there to keep us company," Din said, Grogu nodding in agreement, "How was resting?"

You glanced down at the two men, "I had some unwanted visitors interrupting my relaxation."

Din looked them over, "Why are they unharmed?"

"The only weapon I had in reach was Manny's blaster," You held up the weapon while simultaneously introducing Manny to your husband, "Felt wrong to kill a man with his own gun."

Din pulled Manny up by the back of his shirt, the short man standing on his tippy toes to avoid strangulation.

Manny patted Din's beskar chest piece of armour, "Look Mr. Mandalorian, this is all a misunderstanding-,"

"Yeah," Lance stood up and his friend shook his head, silently telling him to stop, "We thought you were dead."

Din dropped Manny. The man crumbled to the ground, Din's foot pinning him down. You watched as your husband's attention turned to Lance.

"And that gave you permission to hunt down my riduur and child?" He growled, every bit the Mandalorian these pirates fear, "Tell me why I shouldn't put your head on a pike for all your pirate friends to see."

Lance turned to you for help. You looked past him to your husband and nodded, "It would give me much pleasure to see shabuirs like them displayed as an example to why no one touches my family."

"What my riduur wants, they shall receive," Din hauled both men up, his grip tight enough to leave nasty bruises on their skin, "This should only take two hours. Longer if the tall one is stupid enough to run his mouth."

"Two hours!" Manny exclaimed, "I can cut my own head off in less than a minute. I'll even save you some effort and behead Lance too!"

"You don't understand," Din grinned under his helmet, body humming with anticipation, "The effort is my favourite part," Din nodded his head in your direction, "Eat without me, mesh'la. I'll be back in time to tuck Grogu in."

"I'll have the shower ready for you when you get home," You promised, "Oh, and make sure to take your time, alright?"

Din activated his jetpack, throwing down a quick 'i love you' before taking off. You looked down at Grogu, "Your buir and I will never let anything or anyone hurt you. We love you, kid"

#i grew attached to Lance 😭#din djarin x reader #married couple | the mandalorian #the mandalorian #din djarin x gender neutral reader #sir grogu #grogu included fic #crack fic #din djarin fic #justice joy writes

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usmsgutterson · 2 years ago

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Hello Can you do a Poly one with Nikolai & Zoya fic it can be fluff with prompt 6 ? Where the reader has a crush on them

Recipe Box- poly! zoyalai x gn! reader

okay, hi! First ever poly fic of any kind. I've debated writing poly fics before but I've never actually done it so this was next level nervewracking for me and I hope it's decent.

I'm sorry it took me so long to see the requests you've sent in, things get buried in my inbox really quick and this request was no exception for a bit, but dear nonnie, I hope you like this in spite of how long it took me to get this out!

The prompt you requested was fluff prompt six: “Character A wanted me to give this to you,” Character B said.

Fic type- fluff with so much yearning

Warnings- none

You found yourself laughing at Tamar and Tolyas bickering as the three of you moved through the hallways of the Grand Palace, a discussion picking up and dropping in brief moments as the end of the day drew nearer.

The time after the war was tough, the adjustments necessary difficult ones to make and the grief for those you’d lost immense and painful. Nikolai plunged into his kingly duties after he was crowned, Zoya took up the creation and the maintenance of her garden, you took to baking and the twins to sparing to sharpen their already sharp skills.

Tolya and Tamar became members of Nikolais guard, working for him as they’d once worked for Alina and her sun cult. You almost took up a position alongside them, one offered to you by Nikolai after the war, but you refused. Despite it, finding the twins was always easy, striking a conversation with them easier even still.

You’d taken up working in the kitchens, making the menus for the week and putting effort into baking during your off time so that Genya and Zoya could always have the sweet pastries they liked at the drop of a hat and, selfishly, because baking had always been therapeutic for you.

Baking brought you plenty more joy than being on the sea did, but in the days of the war, being on a ship crew meant easy money, and easy money was good enough for you back then, while you worked on the Volkvolny with Nikolai as the captain.

You met Zoya in those times, too, so you wouldn’t’ve counted the war as an entirely dreadful time. You’d fallen for Nikolai when you worked on the ship alongside him, fallen for Zoya as you fought at her side against the Darkling. You had crushes on them for two years, and at that rate, it never seemed like the feelings you held would quite escape you.

So, as you approached the war room with Tamar and Tolya, you were relaxed. It'd been your day off but you'd baked throughout it even still, and you'd dropped a basket of sweet pastries at Genya and Davids door in the hour before you found yourself where you were, with Tamar and Tolya at your sides as you walked them to the war room before you would either head to your room or to the palace library, where you grab a book and spend the next few nights reading.

Nikolai caught sight of you and grinned as you entered the room.

Tamar elbowed you lightly, shooting you a grin as your gaze met one of the people you’d been in love with for what sometimes felt like a thousand days.

“Every time,” she whispered. “Him and Zoya. Every bloody time, and still—fools. The lot of you.”

“Hey,” Nikolai greeted Tolya as you made a point of ignoring Tamars words simply for the fact that you didn’t believe them. “Alls well on the grounds?”

“No threats waiting to jump out and kill you,” Tamar said pointedly. “Grounds sweep was successful.”

Nikolai looked at you again, and seemed to remember something. You watched him pause for a moment before turning, picking up a small box and walking it over to you.

“Zoya wanted me to give this to you,” Nikolai said. “You bake in the kitchens a lot. Said it was recipe boxes with stuff you’d talked about.”

You grinned as you took the box, grin widening as you met his gaze. “Thank you,” you said, turning on your heel. “For delivering it, I suppose. I need to find her, give her my thanks.”

Nikolai nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Tamar, Tolya and I have much to discuss. I don’t know if I’ll see you again tonight, so goodnight, Y/N.”

You grinned. “Goodnight, Nikolai,”

And with that, you left, heart thrumming as you walked down the halls of the Grand Palace, a huge part of you hoping to see Zoya before you retired to your room for the night.

You ended up not seeing her, but you made a mental note to thank her for the very sweet gift when you would see her the following day, at the end of your shift in the kitchens and likely as she sat by a samovar of tea, either chatting with Genya and David or finding something to bicker about with Tolya or Nikolai.

It was something to which you looked forward immensely.

#nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov x reader #zoya nazyalensky x reader #poly! zoyalai x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

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16ruedelaverrerie · 6 months ago

Note

hello! i absolutely loved reading Les Mignardises (thank you for sharing it with all of us), and was wondering if you’d be open to sharing how you learned So Damn Much about food and drink and the pairings thereof? the whole fic was the literary equivalent of a feast for the senses and clearly came from a place of comfortable expertise (or at least extensive knowledge), and as someone who sits in that funky zone of being unable to drink but madly passionate about culinary conquests, i’d love to learn more! thank you!

I wish you could know how much this means to me! I wish that your mirror neurons could feel every stabby pang of joyful gratitude and keen inadequacy that your message has elicited in me! I wish that YOU COULD HURT IN PRECISELY ALL THE MARVELOUS WAYS THAT THIS MESSAGE HAS HURT ME!

Although you are much too gracious to put me in my rightful place, I think that I would probably be more accurately described as a... person on the enthusiast end of the thoroughly amateur scale, when it comes to food and wine. I can't say that I know all that much, where the rubber meets the road-- but I do love it, and I do intake a LOT of media related to it. Perhaps that's the only practical thought I have with regard to how to learn about food and drink; at a remove from professional hands-on experience, repeated exposure to media and actual food is the surest way there is of being more immersed in it! At the end of last year I made a list of the tv shows I'd watched in 2023, and it was just... various series of Taskmaster and then ALL FOOD/DRINK SHOWS FROM HEAD TO TOE. I guess it's sort of a lifelong hyperfixation.

Another less practical, but more theoretical thing is that I am of the party that believes that a poem is not like a frog; you cannot kill it by taking it apart. That's the way I feel about food and drink, too. Unlike the dissection of a living thing, I think that taking apart literature or a flavor profile into what you consider to be its component pieces is less about stopping its functions so that you can observe it. I think it's much more about the journey of attempting to ask a shaky, difficult, potentially unanswerable question: What about this makes you feel towards it the way that you do? Why does a poem, or a dish, or a drink, or a pairing, make you react the way that you react? It doesn't matter whether the answer you come up with is correct or not, because there's no such thing as a correct answer. It's that you're letting the question guide you through asking questions about yourself, and about the poem, the dish, the drink, the pairing. You're not any closer to solving anything, by the end of it, but you've asked good questions and you've allowed yourself the luxury of thought. Even outside of food and drink, I'm the kind of person who spends a ton of time thinking about why they like what they like. This is not necessarily a virtue! I've gotten into arguments with loved ones because I've demanded that they explain their tastes to me in detail! But we are who we are, and when I build an egg salad, I look forward to interrogating myself over what I'm doing with the mustard, the dill, the paprika, the potato chips.

I feel like the thread is getting away from me a bit because I am answering this on a hefty amount of pretty enjoyable Slovenian rosé. I suppose my point is, whenever I encounter a recipe, or a restaurant dish, or a glass of wine, I want to know what goes into it, and I wonder what it is about those pieces and that whole that makes me feel the way that I do. I like thinking about the layers of flavor in food and drink, what notes have earthy depth and which ones pierce up top, which are quick to hit the palate and which linger after you swallow, and what impression that tonal interaction of spatiality and temporality leaves on you. This kind of structuralist thinking is helpful for me, for example, in navigating pairing puzzles: sugar level in drink alongside spice level in food, acidity in drink alongside salt in food, tannin in drink alongside fat in food. Thinking about balance and relationality was a good starting point for me.

There are so many good wine education resources out there nowadays, I think you could get a lot of information about pairings even without needing to drink! (I used to listen to Wine for Normal People by Elizabeth Schneider a lot, though I fell off.) But even if you are more interested in putting dishes together rather than the drink side of it all, I think balance and relationality are equally effective markers for thinking about food alone. After all, that is pretty much the driving force of something like Samin Nosrat's Salt, Fat, Acid, Heat-- why elements matter, separately and together.

MY SLOVENIAN ROSE-INDUCED VERBOSITY ASIDE, I do need you to recognize that you have been very kind to me in sending in this askbox message, and that I would be more than delighted to keep bouncing thoughts back and forth with you on this matter, even perhaps with increased lucidity on my part in the future. I just think it's so neat that you read a story about Nines gritting his teeth for several months until he finally fucks Gavin through a dilapidated couch in the back of a failing restaurant... and then indulged me by coming here and allowing me to talk about food and wine. It's just so nice of you. Thank you. Tell me what you like to eat. Did I mention that I wish you could feel as scraped raw in the face of grace as I do in the wake of your message? SERIOUSLY I NEED YOU TO KNOW THIS, I WOULDN'T EVEN BE ON THIS PLATFORM OR IN FANDOM ANYMORE IF IT WEREN'T FOR YOU TALKING TO ME

#askbox #les mignardises

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gyuluttony · 1 year ago

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would love something mingi x yunho 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 maybe something christmas coded like the two of them having matching sweaters every year, but mingi realizes he can’t fit into his by the time christmas comes around because yunho has been spoiling him so well 🤭🤭🤭

oooh i've been waiting for ateez reqs highkey... i love most pairings in this group soooo bad. these two tall boys are like the cutest people ever so i'm always ready to give stuff for them. gave my bias a cameo because he's an ult (i'm so insane for him) i'm also speedrunning this story because it's christmas eve and i desire to be timely.

What Love Does

This is a feederism fic and features weight gain, breaking of clothes and stuffing. Don't like, don't read.

This year, the holidays crept up on Mingi. He was always usually ready to celebrate, but this time, it came as something a little more out of left field. It might have had something to do with the fact that the holiday season was going to be the first time he spent it with Yunho as his lover and not his best friend.

The pair had spent over half a decade of harbouring innocent feelings for the other before Mingi had confessed his feelings earlier this year. Pretty much all their friends were celebrating the fact that they managed to get this far after witnessing their pining for as long as they did so the transition to couple went pretty smoothly in that department as well.

He knew that Yunho was perfect considering the reason why he harboured these feelings for as long as he did but it was another thing to experience them firsthand. Romantic picnics on the weekends, candlelit dinners when he had a long day at work - there was no area that his boyfriend lacked for romanticism, leaving Mingi a flustered mess whenever he would be subject to it.

Returning these grand gestures back for him was always something that he did. Making songs for Yunho, massaging him when he was tense or just feeling sore from working out or dancing, notes for everyday. They were just the picture perfect fairy tale couple that people were always rooting for.

That brought them to Christmas season. Usually, the two were known as the pair who were not pushovers when it came to the season. Even before they got together, it was a no-brainer that Christmas celebrations would be done at their apartment since they always decorated it festively and were trying new recipes constantly. The amount of practice baking that Yunho did during November astounded Mingi, their place becoming a shared housing for just about thousands of gingerbread families that Mingi would happily munch on in between actual meals. The light displays that they had were always state of the art thanks to Mingi's ability to find the best deals possible to make sure the celebrations were as cool as he wanted them to be in his head.

Everyone was surprised it wasn't Christmas season when they got together but love has people work in mysterious ways. They even had a tradition of wearing matching Christmas sweaters and they had giggled about being able to wear the couple ones openly this year. Mingi had placed the order and on the first day of December, they had arrived and the pair was ready to wear them.

Yunho had exited the room with his 'Christmas Cookie baker' sweater as Mingi looked at the 'Christmas Cookie tester' one with a smile on his face. They always had fun looking for the corniest ones and he had placed this one after a long night of clearing the kitchen of any remnants of Yunho's baking extravaganza one day.

Slipping on the sweater, he looks a little puzzled as it bunches up near his chest, which... now that he's looking at it, is a lot rounder than it used to be. He was used to having pecs but with how much they were protruding and how soft they were, it was a lot more similar to moobs. It was probably just a little bit of relationship weight... he couldn't have put on that much.

The thought came in went as he tried to get the sweater to cover his massive belly that he hadn't even noticed most of the time, which said a lot considering as his hand brushed over it, it felt soft and jiggly, meaning that Santa probably had a lot of competition if they were ever in the same room. As he walked over to a mirror, he felt himself jiggling as he blushed. Where had all this weight come from?

It's not like he stopped going to the gym. Granted, his cardio time got cut in half and he wasn't exactly sure as to what caused it. In the washroom, he lifted his gut up before letting it down, a shiver running down his spine as he felt it rest against the cool bathroom counter and watched as it started to threaten to spill into the sink. What on earth made him think that he could wear the same size as last year... and how did he not notice this sooner?

Grabbing his phone from the bed, he grunts as he bends a little to grab it, feeling his gut hang while he does it before he shoots a message to his friend.

"yo, you and woo wore matching sweaters last year for christmas right? can we borrow them lol"

He wasn't really expecting a response right away considering it was the middle of the day during the week but San got back rather quickly.

"😏 did someone realize how much relationship weight he put on?"

Mingi felt his face flush. Had other people noticed it too? That probably meant Yunho noticed it but why wouldn't he? As he gave it some more thought, times where Yunho was rubbing his enlarged thighs and playing with his belly came to memory. Oh wow, he really hadn't noticed anything because whenever he felt too full and complained like he usually did, Yunho always told him to come over and rest against him while he rubbed his tummy. The way his hands moved on Mingi's fattened body were always enough to lull him to sleep, which likely added to how he managed to get this fat so quickly.

San's next message snaps him out of his stupor.

"fs bro. i don't think i even fit in mine this year lolol woo's might be a little tight on yunho but it should work out regardless."

San had steadily gotten larger during his relationship with Wooyoung but to think that he had put on enough weight to need hand-me-downs from him was making him feel hot in his stomach that was still hanging out of the sweater that he had bought.

Yunho had reentered the room and Mingi turned to look at him. He was biting his lip and making no effort to hide how he was ogling his boyfriend's widened form in the tight clothes as he looked at him. It's not like Yunho had completely escaped the relationship weight, the sweater that same size that he had gotten the year prior was rather tight on his frame and he couldn't help but wonder if that's what San was alluding to as well.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Yunho looked hesitant, not sure as to what his boyfriend was thinking.

"We can..." Mingi began and he watched Yunho tense up before he smiled, "...over the batch of cookies you made. This doesn't fit anyways so maybe I can be the Santa for the party this year instead of San." Before, he would have never thought of fat on his body. Not that he didn't like it but he wasn't ever going to think about it.

Now that he sees his boyfriend scurrying off to get some more cookies to fill him up and just fatten him more, the fat is less about his body and just showing evidence of how much Yunho loved to spoil him... and he loved to be spoiled so he wanted to see how many more pant sizes it would get him to size up.

#kpop feederism #atz feederism #gyuluttonous behaviour #chubby mingi #weight gain fiction

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heart2beom · 2 years ago

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Hellooo I’ve said this as an anon before but I absolutely love your writing! Unrelated, but I was wondering if you have any Beomgyu fic recommendations? I read everything I could in the long post containing fic recs on your previous 4beomy account and I loved every single one of them, but now I can’t find anything left so I’m just rereading my faves LOL Thank you! (And also, thank you for writing! Again, your fics make me so happy)

You’re sooo sweet, thank you for complimenting me not once but TWICE 😭😭?? In terms of recs, I honestly have no idea if I’ve read anything much lately so I had to quickly cruise through my likes both on here and my old blog 😭

I present to you the list of beomgyu fics I’ve decently enjoyed (hopefully no repeats from my other list):

-> Message in a Bottle by @delacyrose224

very cute stuff, best friends to lovers...everyone knows at this point, but i'll forever express my love for this basic ass trope (i literally have a full list of books for b2l. the best romance books come from this trope!!!). one thing i loved about this fic is the portrayal of beomgyu-- just a genuinely good guy. the way he was discreet about his jealousy instead of making a whole deal about it, like fuck i love a mature, healthy dynamic, its so freaking cute

-> Night In by @tqmies

a dark fic, but its so good. i especially liked the fantasy element/twist on a common trope. everything about this is well written but the ending will give you some heebie jeebies (cant believe i just used that) its some fucked up shit 😭 um but b2l beomgyu!! (shoot me in the head)

-> A Recipe for Love by @tinietaehyun

who doesnt love a good old b2l beomgyu roommate fluff!?!?! it's soooo freaking cute i swear i never giggled so much 😭 this writer in general is very good with words and imagery, it's incredibly vivid.

-> how could you not know? by @angelbythewindow

have you noticed the pattern? yeah, it's another b2l. i LOVED the use of flashbacks here and the cute usage of the childhood "beanpole" nickname like shut up do you want me to die? the emotions here were OVERPOWERING. i felt everything beomgyu felt, felt everything mc felt, it was just sosososososo well written.

-> Why We (Don't) Work by @cafeseoulmate

haha. definitely not another b2l!!! i never included this on my other blog's rec list (bcs i dont think it was out at the time) but it is my most recent reblog on 4beomy so i'm fairly sure you've seen it. but regardless, for anyone else who's looking for beomgyu fics, please please please READ THIS. i wouldn't say it's a plot sort of story, it builds off of a lot of flashbacks and whatnot, but that's what makes it so great. like you get a feel for their relationship, why both characters just wouldn't work out (hence the title) but then the more you read the more you're like...alright... YOU KNOW?? like fuck, i almost teared up by the end it was such a cute love confession. a must read for all the bamtoris.

-> slam dunk, lover boy by @qqtxt

just absolutely cute stuff. check out everything from this blog, just binge, you're guaranteed fluffy cuteness. nothing really happens between the two here, but its still really cute and ykw i wanted some change here, so this is a sprinkle of e2l beomgyu

-> Stood Up by @imaginidol

okay, it's angst, i'll be straight up. but idk it was an enjoyable read, even though a little sad at the end 😭

-> Moonflower by @sleeping-sirens

really sweet short stuff, i love beomgyu i swear

-> somniferous confessions by @gyu-xiao

i don't usually read bulleted fics (this is the only one i've read actually 😭) but this is worth the read. i genuinely squealed a few times, giggled like tons, it was so adorable i loved it.

-> be my date by @blossom-hwa

honestly a little bit of a blur, i read this ages ago, but it's good because blossom hwa wrote it like trust me.

-> i know i love you by @universecorp

tried really hard to not include smut but this is definitely a little more plot driven than it is smut, it's sweet. a little angsty but i love it. smut at the end is definitely skippale, just concluding it as the fact that they made love is cute enough too 😭

-> check yes, juliet by @fairyofthestar

-> Yours Truly by @boba-beom

so so freaking cute. we're back with the b2ls but who cares, we all know it fits him so well!!!

-> old friend by @hueningshaped

a little bit of a spin on the fake dating trope and i love it. exes pretending to be lovers? hello? i'm so happy the ending wasn't hard hitting 😭

Fics I'm looking forward to read:

-> The Case by @tinietaehyun

not beomgyu centered but idk i love everything this person has written so far so i'm going to tackle this series. give it a read, i'm sure this'll give someone a good mindfuck since it is a detective series 😭

-> Ashen by @writingmochi

i think i might read this tonight actually, but yeah definitely check this one out. i can sniff out a great writer when i see one!!!!

-> Newsflash! by @ijhyo

teaser has me hooked, like everything about the secret identity...yeah, will wait on it.

-> This Love by @delacyrose224

ive always thought a beomgyu and taehyun love triangle would be a recipe for a perfect fic like… it just makes so much sense because theyre so different in personalities and that clash is just a perfect storm for a love triangle. so i will be reading 🙏 plus, it’s decently long! does it get any better?

Hopefully I got you covered for a couple of days anon 😭 I'll go back to reblogging recommended fics again once I get my shit together at uni, too many good writers out here 💔

#also howd you go through that fic rec list #90% of the links are broken 😭?!?!

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efingart · 6 months ago

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May I ask how did you come up with your Bell oc? She's amazing and even though I have my own Bell can't stop obsessing over yours haha, made me wish there was more than one Bell :3 also I love your art, you're the best!

Hey anon, oh thank you so much. I'm so happy you like her. It's really so cool to hear that you care about her 💙

I don't think I ever sat down to think about her creation. It's like she came fully formed out of my head like Athena.

I don't know how long you've been in the fandom, but she's been with me for a few years now. So I've had the benefit of time to develop her as a character and work on her overall look. Hell I didn't have a faceclaim for her for a year. And I've written, oh, a lot of words about her and a few comics lol. Also tons and tons and tons of drawings. Here's one now:

Also, I'm amazed at how things fell into place with her. For example, in the original JWIN comic (which is now just Chapter 1 of the fic) I just on a whim decided she liked milkshakes. And then I decided to look it up. Apparently, milkshakes were super popular in Soviet Russia. I had NO IDEA. But of course, now I had to run with it. And now I actually see there are people posting recipes for Soviet milkshakes. I think I'm going to have to make one.

If I had actually set goals for her development they would have been to fit her into canon events, the time period, and make her likable and relatable to my audience. And to me. She's definitely the kind of character that I gravitate towards. And I needed for Frank and for her to like Frank. I wanted to give both of them a little something better than what canon gave them. And given that I played Black Ops 1 and 2 after Cold War it just seemed like a natural fit.

Anyway, I wish I was a little more organized so I could give you a better answer. I'm always happy to answer more questions or clarify things because I know this wasn't the most detailed answer. Or if you have any questions about Mila in particular always feel free to ask!

And thank you so much, I'm really happy you love my art. That means the world to me, truly. I know I say that a lot but I do mean it genuinely 💙

EDIT: Oh hell I got so wrapped up in thinking this through I completely forgot. There is more than one Bell. I don't know how you feel about multiverse theory anon but when CoD gave us the choice to name and choose our own Bell it opened up the door to new universes and new outcomes. There's more than one Bell. If you want your Bell to hang out with mine or someone else's that works too.

Tbh I have been thinking about another Bell in The Boys Universe and Mila is there too.

#you’ve got mail 💌#thank you so much anon #I love asks like this #really you can ask me anything about Mila #or my art #jwin whatever

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jillsandwhichs · 7 months ago

Text

Valenfield Oneshots/AU's Collection, Chapter 3, Thanksgiving

Masterlist

Pairing: Jill Valentine & Chris Redfield

Summary: Jill & Chris host a thanksgivng dinner at their house

Status of their relationship in this oneshot: Married

WC: 2.2k

Type: Sfw

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Thank you

"Where is my stupid spoon?" Jill groaned out in annoyance. "Honey, look a little harder." Chris replied, sitting just behind her at the island counter.

"Oh smart ass, I've been looking this entire ti-" She stopped speaking as she looked right in front of her, the big spoon sitting on the wooden shelf above the oven.

Chris sarcastically spoke from behind her, "Told ya so..." Chris loves to be right. Jill rolled her eyes to herself, and bit her lip, almost as if she was trying not to smile.

Ultimately, Jill changed the subject, "When will Claire be here?" Jill questioned. "Is she still bringing the baked mac and cheese, because she knows we can't cook it!"

Chris looked at Jill with a look that clearly showed he was amused by her franticness. "Don't worry, she's bringing it, I messaged her a little bit ago." Chris answered Jill's question.

Around the holidays, especially ones like this, Jill over thinks everything. She was never really into events and special days like these until she was with Chris. Now, he's given her a reason to want to celebrate them.

"Okay, good, that's good." Jill replied, placing the spoon down and letting out a sigh. "So I'm doing stuffing, turkey, pigs in a blanket and homemade dough bread, that's enough, right?" Jill asked, completely turning around to face her husband, Chris.

"Baby, I think that's plenty, we'll have leftovers for days." He stood up, walking towards her slowly, before placing his hands on her hips.

"You don't know that! What if Claire wants to take some home? Or maybe Parker!" Jill said, throwing her head back in frustration. "Such a drama queen." Chris squeezed her hips a bit, making sure she knew he was teasing her.

Jill gave a half sarcastic smile before leaning on her tippy toes to give him a small peck on the lips. "Always." She then kissed him once more before going back to focusing on her cooking.

Cooking skills weren't something Jill always had. Since she grew up without her mother or father, there wasn't anyway to learn recipes or secrets to cooking. Chris was actually more of a cook than her, he's the one who taught her most of what she knew. Aside from that, she'd sometimes watch cooking shows in her free time.

Which she really never has.

She slowly swayed her hips side to side while stirring the stuffing in the pot, making sure all the seasonings mixed together perfectly. Chris just admired her as she did so, he loves her little things that she does that are just so... Her... Like swaying her hips, her dramaticness or even her little humming she does when she's focused.

"The stuffing is almost done. The turkey is still cooking, same with the pigs in a blanket... Can you check if my bread has formed, hun?" Jill asked with a low, gentle tone, seems as though she's relaxed. "Sure." Chris retorted and walked over beside Jill.

He lifted the tin foil and seen the bread wasn't fully done yet, but it looked great, and Chris was excited to eat. "Don't even think of touching it if it's not fully formed, I don't need your fingerprints in my bread." Jill said sternly, knowing she's able to keep Chris in check.

"I wasn't! I really wasn't..." He smirked and went back to sitting, continuing to scroll on his phone while he waited for their guests to arrive.

Jill replied in a sarcastic, teasing tone, "I'm sure." She giggled.

A little while later, the food Jill had made was officially ready. Although, despite her being able to take criticism, Jill didn't want her food to taste weird or just off, she tried especially hard for this Thanksgiving considering multiple people are coming over.

"You okay?" Chris questioned Jill, as she rested her head on the counter, sitting in one of their many barstools. "Mhm." She replied and sat her head up, her short brunette hair falling back to her shoulders. "Claire's just a bit away, along with Parker. I still haven't gotten any message from Rebecca, but I'm sure she's coming." He smiled.

"I'd love to see her, it's been so long." Jill said with a kind tone. Rebecca and Jill weren't always close, until Rebecca joined the BSAA, that's when they were able to get to know one another more.

They're quite the set of polar opposites but opposites attract. Jill's also close with Claire and Parker, especially Parker. He was assigned her partner in the BSAA so working together has brought them closer together.

"Oh shit, I almost forgot." Jill stood up at a rapid pace and walked over to one of the many cabinets in their kitchen, she opened them and took out a few wine glasses.

"Wine?" Chris asked, standing up to go beside Jill. "Yeah, I can't believe I almost forgot." "Well, it's probably because you've been overthinking the entire dinner." "Oh hush." Jill said in a playful tone. She knew he was right.

Popping the cork off, Jill began to pour the red wine into each glass. The sound of the wine filling up the glass was so satisfying. "Do you think that's enough?" "We always have more." Chris smiled and took the bottle and placed it beneath the counter.

Jill nodded and looked up as a knock at the door was heard. "I bet it's Claire!" She smiled and sped walk towards the big front door.

Opening it, she stepped back to get a wider view of their porch and who was standing on it, it was indeed, Claire, Chris's sister.

"Hi, Claire! So good to see you." Jill gave Claire and quick hug, allowing her to step into Jill and Chris's home. "Great to see the both of you. I'm sorry if I'm late, traffic was so crazy, which surprised the hell outta me." Claire chuckled and placed a large tupperware on the medium sized white table.

"Baked mac and cheese here, and I brought some pickle wraps too." Claire smiled and pulled those out as well. "You sure you didn't just bring those for you? Cause I surely remember you downing them last Thanksgiving." Chris teased his younger sister. "Oh haha!" Claire let out a snarky fake laugh.

"Well, we made stuffing, bread and pigs in a blanket, and of course, turkey. Parker is bringing mashed potatoes and a meat board. We still have no intel on whether or not Rebecca can make it."

"It's to bad if she doesn't make it..." Claire replied to Jill, sitting at the counter with them. "Oh, I have a quick question." Claire said with a gentle tone, taking a bite of one of her homemade pickle wraps.

"Shoot." Chris said, sipping his wine. "You two know Leon Kennedy? My old... Friend?" Claire questioned, taking another bite.

"Yes, what about him?" Jill asked. "Is he okay, Claire?" Chris asked, seeming a little worried.

Chris and Jill did infact know of Leon. Chris knew him a bit better though, and a lot longer. They haven't seen him in a while though.

"Well... We're dating, or whatever, it doesn't matter." Claire said nonchalantly.

"What? Claire, that's great for you!" Jill said with a bright smile. "Leon, seriously?" Chris said with a laugh, not being able to contain the humorous statement.

"What? You like him!" Claire said with a confused tone. "I don't know if he can handle you, that is all." He said with a shrug, sipping more from the glass.

"Well, he's been able to handle me all these years, with us just being friends and all." Claire laughed, looking at Chris and Jill. "I think you two make a good team so why not a good couple?" Jill said kindly to Claire.

Claire and Jill are close good friends. Ever since meeting Chris, her and Claire were friends almost instantly. Jill has viewed her like a sister and now, she really is her sister in law.

"At least someone gets it." Claire was obviously kidding around, her and Chris have a close enough relationship where they're able to act like this, instead of distant, not so close siblings.

Another knock was finally heard. "Finally." Jill stood up, placing her glass down while walking up to her and Chris's front door.

"Ah, Parker! It's so great to see you!" Jill smiled. Parker was probably her bestest friend.

"Jill, you look good, how're ya?" Parker said with classic manly chuckle that's recognizable after knowing him for so long.

Parker walked in and said hi to Chris and Claire, despite him not knowing Claire to well, he's still respectful.

"I got the mashed potato and the meat board, made by yours truly." Parker placed it down on the table, alongside the other plates and bowls of food. "Looks great, thank you for doing it on such short notice." Chris retorted.

"Rebecca coming?" Parker asked while sitting down beside Claire. "No clue, but hopefully." Claire spoke to Parker. "I see. Well, let's hope!" He smirked and sipped the wine Jill had poured earlier in the hour.

As the hour passed, they waited for Rebecca to show but sadly, never did.

"I don't think she's making it so we can make our plates." Jill said quietly, she seemed a little bummed but there wasn't much she could do. They all nodded and began loading their plates.

Jill hoped the food tasted as good as it looked. She knew Parkers and Claire's would but she didn't know about hers.

"Jill, this turkey looks better than any turkey I could ever make." Claire gave the subtle compliment. "Thank you, but trust me, yours was so good last year. Hopefully, my skills have paid off and this'll taste good." She chuckled.

It got quiet as they ate, all of them trying to be respectful and not speak with a mouth full of food, which is something Chris really hates, so he didn't mind.

"Is it good?" Jill asked after sipping her wine, cleansing her pallet. "It's really good, well done Jill." Parker gave a half smile. Then again, any food is good to Parker. He once ate frog legs while they were at work, so Jill didn't know whether or not to trust his word.

"Handsome, is it good?" Jill whispered to Chris who was right beside her. "Yea baby, of course." "Honest?" "Honest." Chris smirked, kissing the top of her head.

"Claire?" "It's actually good Jill, stop doubting yourself." Claire said in a playful demanding tone. Jill rolled her eyes playfully, taking a bite of the potatoes.

"Thank you two for coming, by the way." Jill spoke, sipping her wine. "I mostly did this to try my cooking." Jill chuckled.

"Trust me, anytime you two invite me over, I can't say no." Claire smiled. "I didn't expect this life for my brother, personally." Claire stated.

Jill nodded, holding Chris's hand on the table.

"When I joined the BSAA, I immediately knew you two loved one another." Parker said with a chuckle. "Especially since Jessica always pointed it out to me, but we all know why she did that." Parker let out a humorous cackle.

"Oh Jesus..." Chris groaned and rubbed his temple just at the woman's name. "Glad she's gone!" Jill smiled and rolled her eyes. "Cheers to that." Claire said with a eye roll, matching Jill's attitude.

Jessica was someone who was once apart of the BSAA, who was partnered up with Chris. A year or so ago, she was fired for some things she was involved in, ever since, the group could actually speak freely on how they feel about her. Hate is a strong word but for Jill, it's possible.

"Can't believe we lost Jessica, Clive and Raymond all in the span of a couple weeks." Chris sighed and took a bite from the meat board.

"It was a crazy time." Parker replied with a laugh.

The group continued to eat, eventually finishing their plates, there was only a bit left on them anyways. "Woo, I'm stuffed." Claire laughed and slumped in the dining chair.

"Me too." Chris replied. "You all did great on the meal, thanks for pitching in, you two." Chris thanked Parker and Claire. "Of course." Claire retorted.

"I'll take care of the dishes, you guys can just hang around." Jill said with a soft tone, stacking the plates and carrying them out to the kitchen.

"I'll help her." Chris stood from the chair and nodded to the two, going out to his wife. Claire and Parker began to conversate, for once.

Hot water was spewing out from the faucet as Jill scrubbed the plates and silverware with a clean, new sponge, the soap getting on the upper side of her smaller sized hands.

"Need help baby?" Chris questioned, grabbing her waist from behind, placing his head on her thin, warm felt shoulder.

"I'm good honey, thanks." Jill replied, turning her head and puckering her natural pink lips. Chris smirked and kissed her, tightening his grip on her slim waist.

"Dinner was great though, you did really good, I'm proud of you." Chris spoke with his gentle tone, the tone he really only uses with his wife.

"Thank you, Chris." Jill said quietly, placing the plates in the strainer.

"Of course." He turned her to face him then, he kissed her passionately, his hands wandering downwards. Jill pulled away, "No." Jill said sternly. "Fine." Chris rolled his eyes with a tint of blush rested on his face. Jill smiled and walked off, back to Parker and Claire.

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temperancecain · 8 months ago

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As per the results of my recent pole, here's the first chapter of my Torchwood fic. (Warning for use of language, mentions of PTSD and spoilers for the end of Doctor Who Season Three and Torchwood Season 2. None of the recognizable characters belong to me and this was written purely for fun.)

I Found Love When It Wasn't Supposed To Be

Chapter One: Fell Down a Rabbit Hole

"You owe me ten quid."

"I do not."

"You do," Owen insisted, leaning back in his swivel chair, drink stirrer caught between his teeth giving his smile a childish edge. "Last week, down the pub, I said there was no way Jack was ever gonna tell us what really happened while he was gone, and look? He's as tight lipped as a fucking teenager, that one. And just as bloody mouthy, thinkin' he can order us around like…like-"

"Like employees?" Toshiko helpfully chimed in, eyes shining with warring shades of amusement and consternation behind the purple frames of her glasses. "He is the boss, Owen. Just because Gwen took over for a little while doesn't mean that it's not Jack's name on the door anymore. Well, if we even had a door that is, rather than just a big cog thing set into some concrete…My point is, he's been through a lot, and it's not like any of us like to be exactly forthcoming about our own traumas, is it? He just needs time to adjust, is all. To remember that he's home, and has people here for him."

Owen let out a mocking scoff. "Time, right. Something an immortal has in infinite supply and us mere humans have diddly squat of. It'll be a miracle if we get anything out of him before we're in the Torchwood Care Home, eating jello out of plastic cups and arguing over Countdown."

"Don't you do that anyway?" Ianto asked, coming up behind them in that silent way of his. "I take it you're talking about Jack behind his back?"

The doctor had the decency to look chagrined, hands raised in the universal sign of supplication. "Ianto, mate, you know I didn't mean anything by-"

Letting out a heavy sigh, the young agent pulled out a stool, plopping it down in the empty space between their two desks. "I agree with you, completely. You know he took me to dinner last week, just like he promised, and every time I tried to get something out of him, he changed the bloody subject! To me, of all things! Like I wanna talk about what movies I've seen or the new lasagna recipe I got from Gwen when he's been gone for months on end and then turns up right out of the bloody blue! I thought-I thought things would be different," Ianto admitted, so quiet they could barely hear it. "He seemed like he might have actually…"

"Changed?" Toshiko said, not unkindly. "He did seem to have a renewed sense of…something when he came back, all grand speeches and bold proclamations. And now, it's just back to work as usual. That's got to be confusing, most of all for you given your…thing."

"I don't even know if we have a thing. Jack's not exactly one to put labels on things. He's far too…casual for that. But it's really bloody irritating and I just…realized we've spent the past two hundred and seventy nine seconds talking about my love life, which is weird." He turned to Owen. "Why haven't you thrown a pencil at me or something like you normally would?"

"How little you think of me. Gee, Ianto, I'm so hurt." Going back to his notes for a few seconds, he eventually snapped his book shut and kicked his feet up onto his desk. "I dunno, mate. Just trying to be a little more…sensitive, to your situation. We've all had our shovelfuls of shit this last year and…after Diane, guess I know where you're coming from a little more, is all. But don't expect it to become a regular thing, yeah? There's only so much talk about feelings a bloke can take."

Ianto offered him a half smile. "Don't I know it." Glancing down at his watch, the Welshman squinted his eyes, asking them curiously, "Wasn't Gwen supposed to be back with takeaway by now?" when the door to the Hub ground open, the agent in question sauntering across the walkway, plastic bags held aloft in triumph.

"I am. Amazing. Seriously. You lot should name a holiday after me after what I did to get all this," Gwen declared, depositing the various containers on their worn coffee table. "Stood in line for twenty five minutes I did, then when I realized they'd forgotten the egg rolls, I went back and spent another ten minutes in there waiting."

"A real hero," Tosh agreed fondly, abandoning her carousel of computers and making her way to the sofa, eagerly digging into a container of mu shu pork. It was almost midnight, and by most people's standards not the most conventional time to be eating fast food -or even being awake- but the Rift activity had been particularly volatile today and Jack wanted them at the ready, just in case. So it was all hands on deck, no one going home until the sun rose, then back again after a whopping three hour's worth of sleep to do it all over again.

The life of public servants, so glamorous.

Gathering around the table, Ianto began doling out napkins and cutlery and reminding people that coasters were an actual thing as the three of them chatted away. Gwen was too busy looking up at Jack's office, the single light still burning catching her attention as it shimmered against the translucent glass walls. Staggering over the amassed assembly of legs and elbows, Gwen extricated herself and climbed the stairs, knuckles knocking faintly on the glass so as not to startle their fearless leader.

"You got a hit on some Rift activity?" Jack asked abruptly, not even bothering to look up from his sheaf of paperwork.

Gwen cleared her throat, suddenly nervous. "No, um, I just got us all a spot to eat, wanted to know if you wanted anything or not."

"I'm good, thanks." Not even a flicker.

Things had been…awkward, ever since he got back. Since he'd found out about her marrying Rhys. He'd looked so happy to see her, and yet it all drained away like water down a plughole when he took sight of that diamond engagement ring. And his return, after so many agonizing and uncertain months away, had pulled all her old feelings right back up to the surface, despite how deeply she'd buried them inside herself, like driftwood being brought back up in the tide. He was Jack, and yet he was…not, and all she wanted to do was help him, but she couldn't do that if she didn't know what was wrong, if he didn't just open his mouth and bloody tell her like a normal person.

But Jack wasn't normal. He never had been, and he never would be. And maybe that was half the problem.

"Okay then. Well, you know where we are if you change your mind," she said softly before making her way back to her friends, letting herself get lost in some conversation over one of Tosh and Owen's first cases together.

***

Jack Harkness was tired. And for a man that didn't really sleep, he supposed that was kind of a given. But it was more than that. So, so much more. He'd been back for two weeks now, and yet every time he closed his eyes, he expected to be back on the Valiant when he opened them, chained up and bleeding, waiting for that automatic door to hiss open and the Master to swagger in, pointed shoes squeaking incongruously against the metallic grating of the floor. Sometimes it was a cattle prod. Sometimes he'd pump the vents full of poison and watch him choke to death. Sometimes it was just a plain old beating when he was bored or if he wasn't getting what he wanted out of the Doctor, when his 'puppet' refused to dance to its owner's drums.

Some days, he left him completely alone. And that was almost worse. The silence. The emptiness. The gnawing, aching feeling in his chest, thinking about everyone he loved in danger, not knowing whether they were alive or not. If they needed him. About Martha, out there all on her own in a world gone to hell in an intricately woven hand basket. About the Doctor, caged and powerless as no one so brave and wonderful should ever be. About Rose, stuck in some parallel universe but mercifully far away from all this.

The waiting. The waiting got to you.

He was home now. He was fine and everything had been fixed and all those people had been saved and everyone he loved was safe and it was okay, it was all good, it had all been wiped away like it never happened…but it did. And he didn't have anyone to talk to about it, no one to share in the burden of these memories. No one would understand, without having been there. What it was like. How it felt, to die over and over and over again, more times than he ever had before. He didn't want to scar anyone else with that, to scare them, so he kept quiet. Took Ianto out to dinner where the sound of the clinking silverware was too much like knives sharpening against metal. Tried not to flinch every time Gwen brushed against him in the passenger seat as she fiddled with the radio because apparently his taste in music was too 'old-timey.' Fought to keep his breathing even when the lights went out and the Hub wound down and it was just him, alone in the dark once more, an enemy of his own mind.

Jack knew what PTSD was. Had seen enough soldiers battle through it during the countless wars he'd been a part of, sometimes winning, sometimes not. But not him, never him. Jack Harkness dusted himself off, and carried on, not even stopping to let his wounds scab over, much less heal properly. Moving, forward, forward, forward. Always forward, never back, just like the Doctor.

He'd always idolized him so much. Now he'd give almost anything to be a little less like him, a little less broken, a little more whole.

He felt disconnected and irritated and on edge at every little noise and he hated it, hated it so much, because he was supposed to be better than this, was a leader and it was his job to look after everybody and he couldn't do that if he was wasting all his time on trying to hold himself together. He'd make a mistake, he'd miss something, and someone he loved would end up paying the price; he couldn't allow that. He wouldn't allow that, not again, not in a million years. Not after what happened to Gray. So he had to get over this, had to find some way to beat it, to fix himself. Even if it killed him -which was okay, since he'd just come straight back to life, like always.

But the cracks were getting more and more noticeable, the strain ever more apparent. So he tried to keep his distance, excluding himself, secluding himself in his office, behind his walls of glass and watching on as his team talked and joked and laughed without him. And it hurt, it hurt so much because that was what he'd fought so hard to get back to, and now he couldn't even be a part of it, looking in on the life he'd once had and wanted again, still wanted, always wanted.

Thankfully, the piercing wail of an alarm cut through his melancholia like a knife, allowing him to instantly slip into his designated role as effortlessly as he donned his dark wool coat. "What have we got, people?"

"A major energy disturbance, about four miles from here. Significant increases in Rift activity, almost off the charts. Jack, I've never seen readings this high," Tosh rattled off, food forgotten in her lap as her fingers flew against her keyboards, reams of text appearing on the screen, maps of Cardiff flashing with warning lights.

"Any idea what caused it?"

"We've been monitoring everything all day and there's been no unusual disturbances, no police reports with any of the telltale signs of alien activity or interference, but the earlier blips suggest that whatever it is, it's escalating, and fast."

"Then we better get a move on. Alright team, suit up. We leave in five," Jack ordered, returning to his office and taking out his holster, securing it under his coat as his mind raced through worst case scenarios. They were all piled into the SUV and tearing down the road in under three, and while the immortal marveled at their precision and efficiency, he couldn't help but feel just the tiniest twinge of jealousy that it was under Gwen's leadership that this had come about and not his. While he'd always prided himself of his military strategy, how tightly he ran the ship as it were, perhaps he had been a little too harsh in the past. Maybe they needed a more caring, considerate hand to guide them, given everything they'd been through in the past year or so. Maybe they needed Gwen.

But Jack couldn't allow himself to dwell on it as a few minutes later they were pulling up in an abandoned field, forgotten grasses growing up to their knees as they each jumped down, weapons at the ready, flashlights combating with the glow of the waning moon hanging high above in the sky. Man, he'd had some fun times there. Boot heels carving a swath through the tangled overgrowth, they all scanned the area, but there was no signs of any Rift activity, nothing but insects chirping and the cold autumn wind gusting through the trees like a mournful breath.

"Oh my God. Jack, look at the sky!"

There, splitting the midnight sky like a wound, was a gaping portal, trickling light like blood.

That hadn't been the moon, then. It was over a hundred feet up, golden and glistening, crackling with energy like a lightning strike, equally beautiful and deadly. Never a good combination, Jack knew from experience.

"Tosh, get me a reading!"

"I can't, the system's overloading! It's giving off too much interference."

"How is this possible?" Gwen wondered, eyes wide and panicked in her pale face, tendrils of dark hair floating like underwater seaweed as she gazed up at the giant hole in the sky. "No one can open the Rift from our side like that, not without breaking into the Hub."

"I think you just answered your own question," Owen muttered sarcastically, but it did little to cover the shock etched across his expression.

"Someone's opened the Rift from somewhere else." It was the only thing that made sense. "Question now is why."

The light above seemed to coalesce, churning and pulsing like the unpredictable swirl of a hurricane. There was very little known about Rift portals and their effects, but Jack reckoned it wasn't too good an idea for them all to be standing out in the open like this.

"Everyone, back in the car!" He ordered, tracing his way backwards, gun still pointed to the heavens. And then he heard it. A shout, pained and desperate, as angry as it was desolate.

"Poppy, I'm begging you, you can't do this!"

"Doctor, you know I have no choice!"

His whole body went cold, too many emotions shooting through him at once. Before he even realized it, Jack was sprinting across the field, batting away foliage as he ran at full speed, until he was standing right under the mouth of the portal, craning his neck back as if he could see all the way up there to wherever it led.

"Tosh, can you lock into that audio and link it up to our comms?"

"Already on it!" Their technician hollered, and seconds later, as if he were speaking directly to him, Jack heard the words, *"We can find another way!" It was a voice that the Captain didn't know but a tone that was infinitely familiar. "Please, please, just hold on! I'll pull you up, I'll save you! I promised I'd always save you!"

"And I told you not to make promises you might not be able to keep," the mystery woman answered back, softly chiding him. "The Mnemosyne will keep coming, it'll tear this whole planet apart. Thirteen billion people, each one living for two hundred years. All those memories for it to feed on, it won't be able to resist. And you…you're almost twelve hundred years old, sweethearts. So many memories, good and bad and everything, the entire spectrum of a Time Lord's existence, there's no telling if you'd even survive it. If you can't close the Rift from this side, the very least I can do is take it with me. It won't relinquish its hold on my mind, not when its already started the eradication process. So, I'm asking you, for the sake of everyone on this planet, for you to let me do this. For you to let me go."

"I can't." He sounded like he was crying; Jack had never seen him cry, except when the Master died, when he held him in his arms aboard the Valiant and realized he was all alone once again, the very last of his kind.

"Then I'm so very, very sorry for this, Doctor," the woman said, words dripping with palpable regret. "Just make sure you look after him for me, that's all I ask. I can do this, so long as I know that he'll be alright," and soon followed an indecipherable reply. Seconds later, there was a tremendous boom, a shockwave rippling out and knocking everyone off their feet, slamming them backwards into the siding of the SUV, but Jack regained his bearings almost instantly, mesmerized by the subsequent pulse of green light that lit up the sky, knitting the two sides of portal together like it had never been there at all.

"Is everyone okay?" He shouted into the ensuing silence, ears ringing slightly but seemingly no worse for wear.

"Everyone's good, Jack," Gwen called back, but even as she said the words his attention was being pulled elsewhere, to the object -no, the person- falling from the sky, the form a slash of fiery red like the blazing tail of a comet as they plummeted through the atmosphere. "Oh my God, someone's falling from that thing!"

"If they hit the earth, they'll die instantly," Owen said in that sanitized, clinical way of his, grating on the Captain's nerves harshly.

"Not if we can help it," Jack insisted firmly, hastily holstering his gun so that he could have both hands free. "Ianto, get me one of the containment units and plug it into the laptop. Owen, get out your medkit, we might need to do a little emergency surgery. Tosh, how long before they hit the ground?"

"Twenty seconds, maybe less!"

"Okay then." Striding to the SUV, Jack jumped into the backseat, hacking into the containment shell as he tried to recalibrate it back to its original settings. It was just like he'd done for Rose, all those years ago, bombs and blitzes and balloons in the sky, London on fire and an epidemic he'd never meant to start, a day that would change his life forever and set him on a course he never could have imagined.

"Come on, come on. Please work," he begged, slumping slightly when the settings finally gave way and he got to the core where he could input the new data. Seconds later, he was back in the grass, aiming the device at the descending figure, details becoming more visible as they plummeted through the atmosphere. A red coat, a stream of long brown hair. A woman. The woman. And she was wrestling with something, the shape biting and snarling as they neared the earth. A beam of blue-tinged light shot out, engulfing the two of them and suspending them mid-air.

The beam had worked, just like he thought it would. The hard part was getting them down. Whatever that creature was, it seemed unperturbed by its current state, its howls echoing gruesomely through the night and through the deserted woodland, no doubt freaking the poor creatures dwelling there the heck out.

"Can you shoot it down?" Ianto asked from beside him, his own gun gripped tightly in his hand.

"I think so. But if it keeps struggling, I could end up shooting her."

"Her?" Owen echoed disbelievingly further down the line from them.

"What, you think a guy could fill out a coat like that? Well, anyone who wasn't me, that is," Jack quipped in an effort to hide his quaking nerves. It had been a while since he had to shoot at anything besides that Blowfish last week, and the knowledge that that woman was a friend of the Doctor's and someone he obviously cared very much about made it even worse, the fear of his reaction if Jack ended up hurting her, even by accident.

But he had to try.

Planting his feet, Jack plucked the gun from Ianto's hand and pitched his voice loud enough for them to hear, "Hey, Blubberface, try picking on someone your own size."

As predicted, the creature turned its head, a row of double mouths opening up, casting a long black proboscis into view, curling around the woman's neck like a noose, presumably feeding off of her just as she'd said. Sending up a prayer, Jack lined up the shot and squeezed, two quick successive shots that rippled through the night. There was utter silence, and then a distant thud as the body hit the grass, crumpled amongst the brittle weeds. He could just make out the woman's face, pale and pretty in the moonlight, still hanging like a ghostly apparition in the sky, an angel come to bestow knowledge or bad tidings depending on the day.

"Don't worry, we're going to get you down, alright? Just stay calm," Jack said to her, wordlessly passing Ianto back his gun and ordering Owen and Tosh after the unknown body. "I'm going to release the beam, but don't worry, I'll catch you, okay? I promise."

He saw her nod vaguely, and so he pressed the button, letting her go. She didn't scream, and that was almost worse, a soundless descent as she fell and fell and fell, until she collapsed into his awaiting arms, so hard his muscles shook with strain. Her eyes flew open, glassed over and hazy, but not so much that Jack couldn't make out their distinctive hazel colour.

"Thank you for catching me, Captain Harkness, Sir," the woman thanked him before she went limp, seemingly unconscious.

Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed it.

All my love, Temperance Cain.

#torchwood #fanfiction #fanfic #captain jack harkness #ianto jones #toshiko sato #gwen cooper #owen harper #oc character #fanfic writing

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