#it is both a starter and a drabble

[pathoscleaved]

@valour-bound is stuck within the web, and cannot escape.

THE STARS OFFICE, EARLY MORNING: ANOTHER ALL-NIGHTER. Streams of light break in through the white window shades, illuminating a sole figure's silhouette. Captain Wesker sits in his brown leather chair, feet kicked up upon the cherry wood of his desk. Glasses are off, thrown haphazardly across the swirling, dark brown and burgundry grain, and fingers knead tension out of the bundle of stress between his eyebrows. He wears his usual attire, but his tactical vest is off and laying in the seat in the corner of his office. 

Albert is... a mess. 

Dark hues of purple decorate his under eyes, and he has been sleeping even less than usual. His carefully brushed, spun-gold locks are back to their more unkempt placement, as if they had decided to rebel against his gel. His muscles ache with lactic acid buildup, the pressure enough to make him more sluggish - and within, a storm churns, rotating faster and faster.

Since Christopher Redfield had been attacked and so gregariously injured by an assailant, Wesker has been to himself, only coming out of his office to bark orders and recieve reports. He seems to ignore everyone but Chris, as if the rest of the STARS team is just a distraction, or he pays them little attention. So unlike the man who made it his duty as captain to build and keep a strong repertoire with his team. And when he does give Chris his attention, it is fleeting -

Whenever he sees the marksman, all he can see is the crimson slowly overtaking the concrete and Redfield's pale form, like Chris was getting tucked into a blanket of blood. The fear and panic that rushes through him when he remembers how quickly he offered up his own vein for a blood transfusion, and the relief when he started being stable, is an acknowledgement he cannot run from: he is hopelessly in love with Christopher Redfield.

He doesn't remember when the feelings started getting uncontrollable, just that one moment, Albert viewed him as that really handsome pilot who saved his life during the Gulf War, and the next, his best friend whom he could not live without. Chris had become a permanent fixture, as reliable as his own hands, and the experience of almost losing him had shaken him to his core.

In the orphanage where he grew up, he had always been taught to never let another impact him as such. That emotions were little more than tools that the exceptionally bright could manipulate.

It had developed out of his control, and Albert felt he was being devoured alive with want. Chris dominated his thoughts. 

After filing reports for what feels like centuries into the early morning, the captain grabs his belongings (a set of keys, his glasses which go back into place so easily upon his features, his fingerless gloves that he shoves on, and a leather backpack that he slings over his shoulder), and meanders out of his office. Clicking the light and turning his back to the rest of the STARS headquarters, Wesker rubs sleep from his eyes and yawns as he sets about locking his door. His keys rattle and jingle while he turns the lock, and when he moves to leave, that storm inside of him swells when he sees Chris, asleep, on a stack of folders at his own desk. He looks so peaceful, the soft rise and fall of his chest enough to soothe Wesker's fears. No blood, no losing him, just his steady breath -

Oh, how he loves him more.

Deciding that he cannot leave him there, Albert pads over and stands behind him for a moment. Chris smells so good that he leans down a little and breathes him in - one un-gloved hand moving to bury itself in short, dark strands. Soothing touches, soothing strokes. 

"Chris," he whispers, "wake up."

And when the other rouses from sleep, Albert moves away quickly and gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"I'll take you home. You shouldn't be driving. You're still recovering."

Albert's own blossoming splotch of blue, yellow, black, and purple reminds him of that, too. 

His blood had pumped within Chris's veins to keep him alive. And Albert had never felt the urge to give quite so much. He had almost passed out from it.

By the time Chris comes out to meet him and slides into the passenger seat of Wesker's Jaguar, Albert is tapping the steering wheel to some Vivaldi that blares through the black car's speakers. 

"Put on your seatbelt," he orders, waits for it to be done, and then peels off towards the direction of Chris's apartment. Wesker is silent, keeping his distance, ignoring the fact that Redfield's presence still makes him feel like he's buzzing. The drive isn't too bad, not enough people on the road to cause any issues or traffic. The only companion to the Jaguar as it coasts down the street is the occasional stop sign or street light.

They pull up to the curb, and Albert climbs out. He almost hops back into the car and drives off, but something keeps him rooted there, and he cannot leave him. To do so would be agony. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his slacks and walks on, his Oxfords clicking against the concrete.

And as he walks behind Chris, he realizes this is the first time they'd been truly alone since the incident when he'd almost lost his best man.

When he comes to the door of the complex, the thought to turn and run back to the safety of his car does strike his mind, and yet, when Chris turns to say goodbye, and those blue-brown eyes look at him, Albert falls into them, and he knows... he knows that he is going to change their dynamic forever. 

"Chris," he whispers, "wait. I - "

Genuine feelings are so difficult.

Albert's hand reaches and wraps around Chris's wrist, to keep him there, too.

"I want to apologize."

The sentence feels heavy in his throat, but Bert persists.

"I know you wonder why I have been keeping my distance. It is... because I almost lost you."

Glasses are pulled off with the other hand and placed into shirt pocket, blue eyes shining with something intense and inexorable, if Albert did not know that the name for the emotion was love. 

The captain leans in close, resting his forehead to Chris's.

"If you haven't noticed," he says, a smirk quirking his lips to the side, "that thought causes me a lot of grief."

The smirk turns into a ghost of a genuine, happy smile, and Wesker's other hand moves to rest against the side of Chris's neck.

"It is because I love you, Christopher. I do."

The wind whips around them, and Albert can barely help it when he closes the distance between his and Chris's mouths. Both hands move to cradle Chris close, a bracket that means he cannot get away from this bestowal of affection.

It is a kiss of claiming, of longing, of devotion and possession, of devouring. Wesker's fingers curl along his carotid, thumb gently tracing Redfield's pulse as he desperately tries to prove how much he means his words. His nose presses into Chris's cheek, and with each passing second, Albert finds himself falling deeper and deeper, soul intertwining with Chris's in a loop, an ouroboros, that never stops.

[virulentharlot]

It hurt, everything ached. Every limb, every muscle...his head pounding, he struggled to focus his vision. Concrete beneath him hard, harsh, and rough, gentle falling rain tapping against his face as if urging him to remain conscious.

Thrown out amongst the trash in a dirty alley, much to his disgust, to his chagrin, such was a rather usual fate for those like him. He could only count himself lucky he survived this time. He couldn't use his status to save himself. Not now, not ever.

That time has passed, long ago.

Thunder rolled overhead...those clouds were getting darker. The rain was getting heavier, he still couldn't move lest his body scream at his defiance.

Maybe...if he just...took a nap...

[5mind]

Rain poured, beating down a furious rhythm on the roofing of the bus stop. An android in red was taking shelter. However, they were not the only being there.

On their lap was a little black cat in perfect loaf shape.

The cat had wandered over to the bus stop after Red had. Unwilling to scare the animal away , especially not when the drizzle had been threatening to turn into a downpour, the machine had kept still.

Too still.

The feline seemed to have not registered that this was a moving machine, let alone a sapient being. And that was how Red One found themselves stuck - unable to get up without alarming the cat.

But really, this wasn't so bad. It was still raining anyways.

[all54321]

HotGuy!

Thinking about the Soulbound AU and also about Scar’s HotGuy antics and had the thought about him doing it to Grian, even though it would be like him doing it to himself. Also with the fact that he actually has wings now, it would make this whole thing better. Now that I’m thinking about it, opinions on them having hawk wings for the bit? I never thought about what wings he has before. Whatever they are, I want it to be a more predatory bird because he’s a vex, and they’re very violent generally.

Also this is properly a drabble for once.

—————

The yell of “HotGuy” is the only warning Grian gets before he feels an arrow is piercing into him. Since he was already low on health due to whatever shenanigans Scar had been doing, the arrow kills him.

He jolts up in bed, trying to process what just happened, only to be pulled from his thoughts from Scar’s loud cackling. Grian turns to his soulmate with a glare, who seems entirely unbothered by what just happened. “Scar!”

His laughter quiets a little, but he still doesn’t seem remorseful, “I didn’t realize we were that low on health.”

Grian punches him on the shoulder, unable to keep his annoyance while listening to Scar’s laughter, the sound always being music to his ears. It doesn’t mean he can’t pretend, however. Although it’s clear that Scar can see through him. “Come on, we need to get our stuff back.”

“Right, right,” he concedes, still grinning.

[alastors-radioshow]

A quiet moment. Not always something the overlord had. But when he did, he made it a point to indulge in something he enjoyed.

This grey and solemn evening was no different. He'd made his way to a lone piano, crimson orbs studying those ivory keys for a moment, as he came to a decision.

Slowly, he'd move to sit in front of the piano, long, slender fingers carefully caressing the keys. It had been a while, but..

Ah, one never forgot how to play.

He let his fingers do the talking, a somewhat melancholic tune filling the empty space. His voice was gentle as it accompanied the tune, managing to convey the appropriate emotions. Then again, he was rather skilled at that. He knew how to express what he desired through music, even if his own words failed him.

"If this world is wearing thin And you're thinking of escape I'll go anywhere with you Just wrap me up in chains But if you try to go alone Don't think I'll understand

Stay with me Stay with me..

In the silence of your room In the darkness of your dreams You must only think of me There can be no in between When your pride is on the floor I'll make you beg for more

Stay with me Stay with me.."

[tangledfate]

Voices. So very many voices. And memories. Lifetimes echoing through her as Solas and the others screamed for her. Begging her not to do what was already done.

"Lan'lin..." ["Mommy..."] Head turning as eyes blind to the world around her searched for the voice that reached above the rest. Fiore knew that voice but-- how? How could she--?

"Lan'lin mahnast len'lin...?" ["Mommy where is Daddy...?"]

Then there was screaming. Was it hers? Or was it in her head? Her hands found her ears, tried to shut it out as her knees buckled into the water. It was so much--too much! Flashes of memories and pain as she reached for them. Searched for something, anything, to hold onto before--

"Fe'ne, ar'ona?" ["Fe'ne, is that you?"]

She found it. Whatever it had been. Sighing in relief as the memories fell into place as if they'd always known where they'd belonged. And as the image of a boy with her dark hair and skin but the bearing of his father flashed into her mind, she sank into the darkness.

Fiore groaned softly as she awoke, limbs like lead as she struggled to raise her arm to her head. She felt...fuzzy...like she was in a fog until she heard his voice. His beautifully chastising voice demanding what she'd been thinking--how could she do such a thing? His demands stopped when the tears skated down her cheeks and fade green eyes focused on him.

There he was, centuries later; a little older--was he wiser now? Had he waited for her all this time? Through death and rebirth and he was still here?

"mahn'an'the mar dhula, ma fen?" ["where is your hair, my wolf?"] The words came with the best smile she could muster as she reached for him--her love. Her mate. Wide violet gray eyes staring at her as she half sat up, half pulled him down until their foreheads met and they could both breathe again.

[purposefully-lost]

Charlie,,

[godzexperiment]

starter call

-like for an iconless/likely multi para on the shorter side (depending on what idea comes to mind)

-specify your muse if that's needed <3

-open to everybody especially new faces/those i have yet to write with

[hazbinsandweirdos]

"Not a problem darling, your little one is welcome over anytime. You two have a good night." He waved to the neighbor with a warm smile as he returned to his apartment. Well, if it hadn't been a mess before, a rambunctious, imp toddler, certainly made sure it was now.

He didn't feel like cleaning at the moment, he was starving and didn't have the energy to cook so, back out the door he went. Bag slung over his shoulder, he double checked what he had for cash then dug into his bag for one of the cards he'd lifted. It would be fine. Just needed to wait for the guns to get picked up, then he'd have plenty and he could even pay back Gigi for taking care of his last hit. He owed the bull a lot for that one.

[critterbitter]

The twins and their starters may have grown slightly taller, but their love of shenanigans have tripled, no, quadrupled in size.

On that note did you know Eelectrik has a glow animation?? Perfect nightlight eel. Absolute gold standard for creature. Click here for the masterlist!

Bonus shitpost under cut ft @birdsaretoddlers’s incredible take.

(plus a fanfic drabble that birds did while we were discussing in chat! Check out their funny writing @birdsaretoddlers) “Lam lam pentttt. Lam.”

“Language. I am not calling them that. This is a civil discussion about the capacity of a 284 Berkshire’s firebox, not a playground argument.”

“Lammm Pent.”

“If you possess my phone I will have to put you in time-out in your ball, and neither of us will like that.”

The argument over a literal online flame war was cut short by the door flying open, one of the hinges breaking off with the force and flying somewhere into the aether, never to be seen again. Or at least, not without a strong magnet.

Emmet stood there, proudly, holding his newly-evolved Eelektrik, his grin a mile wide. Ingo picked his heart up out of his femoral artery, where it had lodged itself, and gently removed Lampent from where she hid, hanging over his shoulder. Emmet stood there, eyes twinkling, clearly ready to perform the coveted Bit. Ingo opened his mouth, got halfway through a word, and his twin took the proffered delight of cutting him off.

“I am Emmet and I discovered something INCREDIBLE. INGO LOOK.”

Ingo looked, because what else was he going to do? He would allow his twin to complete his circus act, it was only proper and polite. Eelektrik trilled with delight. Emmet twirled like the best of Nimbasan runway models, clearly wrestling his eel, cooing platitudes to it as he writhed and squirmed to get it into position.

“Me beautiful slimy baby, my beloved pool noodle, my beeesstt conductor!~” Doing something that could generously be called ‘dislocating his shoulders’, Emmet managed to get his eel flipped up and around his neck. He flopped forwards, bonelessly, tipping his hat and giggling madly. He was grinning harder than normal. Ingo was a little scared.

“But now, Eelektrik can do MORE. OBSERVE.”

He threw his shoulders back, standing up as tall as he could, somehow not throwing himself ass-first onto the floor as the fifty pounds of eel he was currently deadlifting remained stationary over his neck. Emmet’s arms flew upwards and out, rocking back and forth in jazz hands. Eelektrik frilled its fans, made another happy little buzz and-

"Eelektrik boa."

“DRAGONS ALMIGHTY. THE EEL GLOWS.”

There it was, clear as day. Eelektrik flashed it’s spots in natural bioluminescence, blinking like a neon sign. Bright beautiful yellow and clearly charged, Emmet’s hair stood on end, pushing his hat an inch off his head. They blinked in a rhythmic, pulsing manner. It was almost hypnotizing to watch, in a way. Ingo snapped back to reality, realizing his mouth had dropped open and Lampent had ceased questing for his Pokedex. Recognizing Emmet was looking for a response, he threw his arm out in a thumbs-up so fast his arm hurt, snapping his suspender against his neck.

“Brrravo! Ten out of ten! Majestic eel scarf!” He praised, Emmet’s expression only growing further full of himself and his achievement, which was well deserved. Lampent echoed the sentiment, flashing back at Eelektrik in response.

Now that both Pokemon could glow, they’d never have a problem in the caves again!

[adeadlysong]

Arlyn is internally screaming as he rifles through many papers.

Nuriel stared. “Arlyn? Love? Are you okay?”

“HOW MANY SUITORS HAVE WE GONE THROUGH!?”

Arlyn’s scream echoed through the room, and Nuriel tried to count.

“Er....dunno. Lost count after Tahirah turned nineteen?”

“Probably over five-hundred people.” Arlyn stared up at Nuriel. “Do you realize how many people we’ve had to give the harsh rejection to?”

Nuriel just kept on staring back at him. “All five hundred?”

The icy advisor scratched the back of his head. “Well...not that many, but at least 75% of them.”

Nuriel’s jaw dropped. “Were we really that harsh with the rejection process!? I mean, I only sic’d a bear on a few of them - “

“Yeah, but I think we gave all 75% of them death threats.” Arlyn let a low whistle leave him. “Are we going too extreme on this? Do we need to scale it back a bit?”

“But we have to make sure they’re, like, the one. Or ones, I guess, if Tahirah pursues polyamorous romance - “

While Nuriel and Arlyn are tossing this increasingly-wild conversation back and forth, both fail to realize that Tahirah is listening in and quietly laughing at the hilarity of it all. 

[hahaifolded]

Good... Really? - Simon "Ghost" Riley x POC!GN Reader Drabble

Warnings: Angst, ANGST, Angst (comment about eating habits) Author Notes: I don't know where this came from so I do apologize for this. I have a part 2 in mind but I don't know when I'll write that so... yeeeeah.

Imagine Simon "Ghost" Riley asks you, the temporary interpreter for the 141, on a date. Imagine how surprised you were when after the most recent briefing, this hunk of a man approaches you asking if you like Italian and free that same night for dinner. Imagine how nervous he is when he asks, eyes looking anywhere but you, hand fidgeting at his sides. It absolutely melted your heart to see the man that made your heart beat so fast that you might faint shy to talk to you.

So imagine your shock when you agree on said date and it's just... horrible.

Just imagine you walking in, seeing him at the booth and as you catch his eye, he immediately looks away. How when you approach the table, he stays seated and mumbles out a small hi. You assume it's just a cultural difference and quickly move past it.

Then later when you ask him about work, because well it seemed like the safest conversation starter, he snaps at you, saying "we're on a date, not on base. no work talk." While he may have a point, he didn't have to say it so coldly. You try to be cheeky and ask him what does he want to talk about, hoping to ease the tension. It doesn't. Instead, it makes it worse as he just looks down.

So you both sit in silence as you look at the menu. You try to make small talk and ask him what he was thinking of getting. He answers plainly and says a salad. A SALAD? He tells you he's trying to cut, but assures you that you don't have to be shy, he can tell you like to eat. Oh wow - that cut deep. You just nod and look back at the menu. Your appetite dies at that very moment. You consider leaving, but the waiter pops up, asking if the "lovely couple" was ready to order. Simon quickly places his order and glares at you, waiting for you to go. You're already here, might as well stick through it.

So after you order a small soup that Ghost felt so compelled to ask if you were sure you wanted something so small, you start fidgeting with the menu, wondering how long does it take to toss a salad and pour a bowl of soup.

Imagine your shock when Simon finally speaks and asks if you thought the weather was nice. You died a little inside. The weather, really? You answer with a yes and even start to share how you loved this time of year, because it's perfect for-- and his eyes are glazed over. Great, he's not listening. You go quiet. It seems like he comes back to and asks you to repeat yourself. You don't.

You both sit in silent for a bit. You're trying to get comfortable, but find that you can't. You can tell that he's feeling the tension as he takes in a deep breath and lays his arms on the table. You can't help but stare at his tattoos.

Without a second thought, you reach out and try to ask him a question about them. As your fingers graze his arm, he pulls back and hisses at you.

"Don't touch me!"

The entire restaurant goes quiet and stares at your Lieutenant cradling his arm as if you burned him. You quickly pull back and apologize. You've never seen anyone recoil so much by your touch. He looks around the room and realizes the commotion you/he caused and mutters out a simple, "it's fine."

Silence falls on the two you again.

Dinner finally gets here and you don't think you ever ate a bowl of soup so fast before in your life. However, you can't even celebrate your small achievement as when you look up, you see Simon's plate already empty.

You can't help but be confused. Why did Simon Riley invite you on this date if he so clearly doesn't want to be here?

And before you can stop yourself, you ask him why the sudden interest. You deserved to know.

But damn did you wish you didn't ask when he says,

"Johnny's been hounding me to ask you on a date so I finally did."

Oh.

He asked you after Johnny, the only person on this fucking base who's even aware of your little crush on Ghost, told him too. Wait, no, BEGGED him to.

You don't know how you did it, but you managed to not to explode right there on the spot.

Or how when the waiter comes by asking if the "lovely couple" wants desert, you politely decline and ask for the check.

Or when Simon says he'll pay, because Johnny told him he had to, you just nod instead of storming off?

You don't know how you held your head high at you walked out of that restaurant, knowing that Simon Riley wasn't even interested in you and probably felt like he had to go on a date with the boring interpreter that has a stupid crush on him.

So imagine your shock, when before you can rip Johnny to shreds, he tells you how Ghost thought the date went swimmingly and can't wait for the second date.

WHAT!?

Word Count: 880

Thanks for reading! — Folded’s Page Guide + Masterlist

[emmcfrxst]

OKAY and what about a happy ending for reader, Logan and Laura??? Like in that one little drabble you wrote her mom!reader somehow resuscitated/healed Logan after he was ‘chest fucked?’ Nobody dies and Mom and Logan get to raise Laura together like normal parents!!!

Cue some happy mommy/daughter headcanons with Logan loving his girls 🩷🩷🩷🩷

the term “chest fucked” made me laugh out loud so thank you for that

one thing you come to learn about laura is that she absolutely LOVES to be the little spoon. she’d never felt particularly cared for (or safe) in her life before she met you and logan, so when you hand her affection on a silver platter she just becomes quite honestly a little obsessed with it. she loves everything about the concept of spooning because it’s easy affection— you can be watching tv or reading in bed with her curled up into your arms, cradling her, and it both makes her feel loved and makes her feel safe because she’s come to associate your touch with pure, unconditional love and support. like i’ve mentioned before, you’ve quite literally began to carry out with the purpose of being her mother, her protector; she knows that no matter what happens, you’ll always, always have her back and that comforts her to no end. she’s very physically affectionate with you, to the point where she feels comfortable initiating physical contact on her own— she knows you won’t refuse or judge her, and she’s been deprived of love for most of her life so having a parent who is willing to hand out love and care like this honestly has made her a little greedy (in a funny, endearing, child-like way. she absolutely adores you and she does not have the words to properly express how much you’ve impacted her life).

affection is a little less easy between logan and laura; they’re both a little awkward with each other— logan because he’s unsure of just how to initiate any kind of physical affection to anyone that isn’t you, and laura because she’s unsure whether or not he would reject her (he wouldn’t. ever. he might grumble about it but it’s just for show. he would never ever dare to reject laura’s affections because he knows just how badly this could affect her; he’s the human embodiment of touch starvation from years of abuse and pain and he’s come to learn just how truly impactful a little love and care can be, that’s something he’s learned from loving you and being loved by you) so the only kind of affection they really partake in at first is through play fighting/bickering. i’ve mentioned this before but laura really brings out the child in logan; he loves to tease her and be playful during their interactions, even if she sometimes gets annoyed with it (it’s the Howlett Poor Anger Management Starter Kit) so he shows his affection through little acts like pinching her cheeks, ruffling her hair or pushing her aside with his hip while they’re helping you out in the kitchen. the playfulness is fully reciprocated, because laura can and will jump on him and basically force him to carry her around the house like a little baby monkey (which is one of the reasons why he affectionately calls her his little monkey, i’ve talked about this specific nickname and the whole carrying thing in the two posts linked in this reply) and the whole frenemies thing they have going on at first really helps them bond and like i’ve said before, also helps two very traumatized people associate touch with something that’s fun, light, and positive. their interactions do end up growing from play fighting/wrestling as a way to express affection to actual, genuine (although tentative) affection in the “usual” way; laura will often rest her head on logan’s arm/shoulder if they’re sitting side by side, and it’s not uncommon for you to see laura’s head resting in logan’s lap while he reads or vice versa— they slowly find something that they’re both comfortable with, and it always makes you a little emotional when you think of how far they’ve come in not only their personal journeys, but also in their shared one. it’s not over-the-top physical displays of affection, but it’s simple and it’s genuine and that’s really what makes this so beautiful to you. logan probably won’t admit it out loud because he’s not particularly good at voicing his feelings (although he’s been actively trying to be better at it for your and laura’s sake), but there’s nothing in the world that he loves more than having you and laura by his side, both literally and figuratively.

[heartfullofleeches]

I want to teach Carnis that normal foods can be sweet too like they likes. I bet they ate a lot of oatmeal back in the facility but those monsters probably gave it to him plain and boring and bland.

I make a MEAN bowl of oatmeal. I would add cinnamon and nutmeg, liberally sprinkle brown sugar, and add some honey drizzle on top. Maybe I should cut some apples up in there too, they like fruit.

I just imagine it being the early days and he gets nervous when I serve him the bowl because he's used to being treated badly but I gently encourage him to try it and he eats like 3 bowls.

Yan Lab Experiment Drabble

The last thing Carnis wanted was to come off as ungrateful.

The debts they owed you could never be paid in full. Their freedom was one thing, but finding a purpose for themselves is what gave their sheltered life new meaning. You gave them that purpose. Carnis longs for the day he'll understand the outside world the same way you do. Until then, the experiences you hand pick for him are more than they could ask for or repay from anyone.

Carnis would follow you through every bump and hurdle. Regardless of their blind faith in you, they didn't know if you could guide them through this.

"I r...remember...this stuff."

They always hated it. On top of tests and questions, Carnis dreaded mornings for the very meal placed in front of them. It was like stuffed wet paper into their mouth- Near tasteless, plain, some days they weren't even given the luxury of having it warm.

Yours, on the other hand- Could the two be placed in the same category?

For starters, yours was thicker than they recalled. If their memory served them correctly, the right word to use for the texture of your oatmeal was creamy. The smell was.. undefinable. The warm scent of cinnamon spliced with the soft, sweet aroma of honey. Carnis was lucky to receive a sugar packet or two from the kind doctor who took pity on them. Coupled with the fresh chunks of fruit you topped with oatmeal off with it was like breakfast and a snack in one.

Carnis stirs awkwardly in his chair; hunger digging at the walls of their stomach yet their hands lay in their lap - fingers picking at the skin of their palm. The oatmeal looked good. Smelt good too. They wanted to appreciate all your hard work, but after so many years of eating the same slop - their eyes lacked the appetite their stomach was cursed with.

"Ah!"

Their spine shoots straight as an arrow as hands rest gently between their shoulder blades. Sensing their distress, you massage at the center point of the tension in their back, mindful of their sensitivity to touch.

"I know what you're probably thinking. I didn't think it looked the most appetiting when I first tried it, but one bite and I was in love. It's one of my favorites to eat now-"

"Favorite?... Favorite..." If someone as kind as you likes it as much as you claim, surely it can't be that bad...

Carnis tentatively wields their spoon, brushing the chunks of apple off to the side as they dig in. If they really weren't a fan, surely eating some part of it would still make you happy, right? They bring the spoon closer to their mouth, tensing as the metal clinks against their teeth. The hybrid steels their nerves and the tremors of their hand - shutting their eyes tightly as they take a bite.

...

"You did really well today... Carnis... I brought you something new to try. Keep it a secret between me and you, alright? I'll tell you what it is when you're older."

Sweetness. Their first taste of it can after one of the worst experiences they had in the lab. He couldn't feel his legs for days- Had they not been able to see them, Carnis would've believed they had been cut off for good. A sugar cube was granted to them for all their suffering- And it was worth it.

Carnis didn't know what they did to deserve this.

The spoon is swiftly discarded. Carnis picks up the bowl with both hands, switching to one as the oatmeal pours into their mouth too slowly for their liking. Using their fingers, Carnis inhales every oat - Their feast cut short by a small chunk of apple catching in their throat.

"Carnis!" As the cow coughs, you quickly lift the untouched glass of milk on the table to their lips for them to drink. "Slow down- It's not gonna run away from you."

Carnis barely seems fazed by nearly choking themselves on a slice of fruit.

"M...more? Please? I'd like more. I-if it's not too much trouble."

Desperate hands cling onto the hem of your shirt. You wipe stray tears from his eye as he begs. "There's a whole pot on the stove- You can have as much as you want."

"Y..you... Can.. can you teach me? How to.. make it? Oatmeal...and other goods food- I wanna make things for you.. too... I want you to be.. be happy too...."

[daisynik7]

Neighbor Nanami headcanon where he uses his new neighbors mini garden on their balcony as a conversation starter. Man had a crush for his pretty neighbor since she moved in months ago, but his tongue is always tied but one day he notices she is growing cherry tomatoes among all the flowers and herbs and his mouth is faster then his brain

Author's Note: This has been sitting in my inbox for months now, I'm so sorry it took so long for me to reply! I hope you enjoy this little drabble. :) Heart divider credit to @/cafekitsune!

You sip your coffee on the balcony, relaxing into the patio chair, basking in the morning sunshine. It’s been almost two months now since you moved into this new apartment and it finally feels like home. The first week you arrived, your parents helped you plant a miniature herb garden and you’ve somehow managed to keep it alive since. It’s now sprawling with fresh basil, parsley, and cilantro, all of which you use often to elevate certain recipes. You glance at the pot beside it, inspecting the cherry tomato plant you received as a house-warming gift from a friend. So far, no fruit yet, only leaves, though you’re hopeful you’ll see progress soon. 

Right on cue, you hear the distinct swoosh of a sliding door opening, then see your neighbor step out onto his balcony. You smile at him, waving. “Good morning, Nanami.” 

He turns to face you, giving you a polite nod, a steaming mug of hot tea in his hand. “Good morning.”

Your conversations usually don’t last very long. Sometimes it ends just like this, with the both of you silently enjoying the quiet morning together until either of you decide it’s time to get ready for work. He’s a quiet man, maybe even a little shy at times. Though you find comfort in his presence.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as he takes a sip of his tea, staring out into the horizon. Golden streaks of sunlight shine on him, casting a beautiful glow on his figure. He’s handsome, that’s for sure. You’ve always thought that ever since you met him. 

Feeling chatty today, you stand up, walking to your garden, grazing the delicate basil leaves between your fingers. “Do you cook?”

He’s surprised at your question, hesitating slightly before he answers, “Yes, I do.”

“My garden is overflowing now. Would you like some fresh herbs?”

He walks to the end of the balcony closest to you. “Are you sure?”

You grin at him. “Of course! I don’t know what else to do with all the excess. I’m running out of recipe ideas.”

His mouth opens, but then closes, remaining silent. You’re curious what he wants to say, though you don’t ask, plucking the stems off gently. “I’ll put these in a bag for you.” 

When you return, you notice him staring at the cherry tomato plant, studying it carefully. You hand the herbs to him, hoping he’d ask you about it. Instead, all he says is a quiet, “Thank you,” before bidding you farewell, going inside. 

You sigh, sinking back into your patio chair, wondering what you’re doing wrong. 

When the tomatoes sprout, you can’t contain your excitement, spending the morning marveling at the round green bulbs decorating the vines. Nanami is out with you, remaining silent, though you catch him glancing in your direction a few times. You want so badly to converse with him, but you’re unsure how. He hasn’t mentioned anything about the herbs since you gave it to him over a week ago. Did he use them yet? What did he cook with it?

Finally, on the day your little tomato babies are bright red, Nanami speaks to you. “Cherry tomatoes,” he says, looking at your plant. 

You beam at him. “Aren’t they beautiful?” 

He gazes at you, smiling. “Yes. Beautiful.”

Butterflies flap around in your stomach and suddenly, you’re speechless, unable to think of anything else to say. But you don’t need to, because this time, Nanami does the talking. “I’ve used up all of the herbs you gave me. Thank you again.”

“I’m so glad you found a use for them,” you reply, finding your voice, standing as close to his balcony as possible. “I’m not sure yet what I’ll use these tomatoes for.”

He does the same, and it feels like there’s barely any distance separating you now. “I know a great pasta recipe I can show you. If you’d like.” There’s a hint of blush in his cheeks. Maybe this is what he’s wanted to tell you all along.

You smile wider at him, happy with this progress. “I’d love that.”

[raguiras]

Mionn's art & writing ship trade event

(Click the art for better quality!)

I'm hosting an art & writing event centered around ships & duos (multifandom)!

🖤 REBLOGS ARE SUPER APPRECIATED

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I've recently reached 200 followers on this blog, 900 on my meme blog, and 100 on Instagram!! Honestly, I don't even know what to say... I feel so damn honored and am so grateful for the support!! 🖤🖤🙏

As a multi-milestone celebration as well as an event for the official Spade of Storms (Deuce x Allen) day, which is on the 27th of July, I decided to host a TRADE EVENT!!!

Basically, this event is going to be an open art/writing trade that's all about ships (or platonic duos).

The event starts on 7/23 (today) and lasts for rest of July as well as for the entirety of August. For every Allen x Deuce art/writing that I receive during this duration, you get one of your own ship from ANY FANDOM back!

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Why am I hosting this?

it's a way to thank everyone for three different follower milestones

a contest/DTIYS/raffle wouldn't promise that everyone gets something back, so I went for a trade event

the event allows me to post more about other canon TWST characters and draw them while not having to neglect Allen x Deuce

I wanna make new mutuals & friends, get to know more ships, and strengthen friendships with mutuals I already have!

Artfight is/was tons of fun, but I only do/did colored sketches there & ships are a tricky subject. Meanwhile, I'll do ANYTHING here!

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Basic information:

Make a drawing/writing/comic of Allen x Deuce. (Ideas can be found in this post's pink "starters for my ship" section.)

Post it on your blog, tag me in it, and refer to my event. (While posting is by far preferred — especially for bigger artworks and written stuff — you can also just DM it to me.)

In return, you'll receive a gift of the same type for your own ship from any fandom (OC x canon, canon x canon, OC x OC)! I'll DM you about the ship, so make sure that your DMs are open.

For example: If you submit a sketch, you'll get a sketch back. If you submit a fully shaded drawing, I'II make a fully shaded drawing for you, too. If you add a background, I'll (do my best to) do the same. If you write a drabble... You know the drill!

ANYONE can join, whether you follow me or not! However, new followers through the event are super appreciated!

EVENT TIME: July 23th (today) - August 31st

Anything submitted before or after this event duration will not receive anything back (unless we explicitly do a trade), but be held in high regard nonetheless!

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Rules:

The portrayal of Allen x Deuce must be shippy/romantic.

Please keep angst at a minimum unless it has a happy ending. Comfort is allowed.

Please DO NOT add your own OC or another canon character to the submission. Including them in the background as a wingman or something is alright, though. Additionally, any kind of romantic implications between Deuce and another character/OC are NOT allowed.

Please no NSFW. Harmless implications and slight spice are okay, but keep in mind that these characters are both minors.

AUs are very much allowed! All the previous rules apply here, too, and I'm willing to give an overview of some AUs via DMs.

Please no genderbending.

Please DO NOT draw Allen or Deuce as a standalone character. This is a SHIP event for a reason.

Please don't change their appearances too much, especially when it comes to the color schemes & body types.

Giving them different outfits — especially event outfits — is absolutely cool (yes, you can draw Allen in a skirt if you wanna), and changing their hairstyles is okay as long as they still look like themselves.

This is NOT A DTIYS event, so please DO NOT redraw one of my Allen x Deuce arts. Please come up with something original.

If you have any more questions, please DM me!

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What CAN you submit?

drawings // comics // writings // animatics

For drawings, anything from a quick sketch to an extremely detailed drawing with a background is allowed! You'll get something of the same quality back. The same also goes for writings/fanfics.

Animatics will receive a drawing in return.

What CAN'T be submitted?

Gacha videos // edits // memes

-> You can theoretically submit all of these and I'd appreciate them, but I wouldn't be able to give you anything back.

Memes refer to funny pictures that simply have Allen & Deuce's faces in them. DRAWN memes/meme redraws count as DRAWINGS.

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Starters for Allen x Deuce

Got no clue what to draw/write about?

Check out the few already existing Allen x Deuce posts on this blog for proper lore and facts.

Check @spade-of-storms for fun facts, shorter rambles and additional info.

In any case, you can't go wrong with simple fluffy, romantic scenarios! Dates, kisses, cuddles, whatever!

For information about Allen himself, please check my pinned post.

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Q&A:

I want to join the event, but I don't have any ship (OC x canon, canon x canon, OC x OC) you could draw/write about for me in return.

That's okay! In that case, I'll gladly draw/write about two separate characters or a platonic duo for you.

Can I do multiple submissions for this event?

Obviously, and every single one will be "revenged"!

Can I get something of another type/quality back? For example, can I get a fully shaded drawing for my sketch, or art for my drabble?

Unfortunately not, as I prefer to always give something of the same type back. There are only the following two exceptions that I AM willing to do:

you do a drabble/oneshot —> I do a sketch

you do any type of art —> I write a drabble/oneshot

Is there anything you refuse to draw/write about?

Deuce ships (other than Deuce x Allen). NSFW. Family x family. Minor x adult. Any ship considered to be problematic.

How do I tell you about the ship I want you to draw/write about for me?

I'll DM you after you post your event submissions.

Do you prefer to do OC x canon, canon x canon, or OC x OC?

I have a bias towards OC x canon and canon x canon ships. However, I'm willing to do any ship that's not problematic! In the case of OC x OC, I simply need you to provide information on two OCs instead of one only.

Will you do poly ships?

In order to keep things fair, no. But I could include the third party as a plush or chibi head.

I want to make Allen x Deuce content for you, but not receive anything in return.

That's also super appreciated anytime (and totally doesn't make me freak out /pos)! Simply share it as a gift and don't mention the event.

How long is it going to take you to finish your "revenge" on me?

It depends on the type of submission you make & what I'm giving you back. Some things can be done within a day while others may take much longer, but either way, you WILL get something of the SAME TYPE back & that's guaranteed.

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Personal notes:

My health isn't the best and I also have a job. Please be respectful and don't rush me nor get mad when I'm being slow.

Please do not start a discussion nor get mad at me if I refuse to draw/write about a ship I deem problematic & want you to pick another one instead. Preferably pick a ship that's by far NOT problematic from the beginning.

I'm unwilling to draw/write about any Deuce ships other than Deuce x Allen because I kin Deuce a ton and tend to feel uncomfortable with many of his ships, so please don't ask for any. I'm asking you to not start a discussion over this, either.

I won't post everything I make for the event on this blog. Sketches and writings will either be DMed to you or posted on one of my other blogs.

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That's it for now! If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to DM me.

And again, thank you so much for 200 followers!

♤ Happy trading! ♤