#it should splat him instead

[eatsouls]

[keferon]

It has been YEARS since I have writen anything. I more so draw. Maybe later if you like I can try but... the Deadlock Mecha au with Ratchet ❤ it goes brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

(Wrote this in three hours. No editing. Spur of the moment dump. Apologizes for the length and how it bounces around. I imagine Deadlock had saved Ratchet and his team somehow. Ratchet in turn tries to save the person inside Deadlock. Finding no human Ratchet instead saves the Cybertonian realizing he is more then a mechine.)

****

Deadlock's optics dart around the bioengineer's lab as he stays crouched on one knee. He keeps his servos flat on the floor to stay steady in the small hanger. He doesn't want to bump into the over head lights any more then he has. He is almost at his limit. When he crawled in here he didn't expect to be surrounded by screaming squishies. He's had enough of the small creatures running around him calling out for help. Let their 'help' come. He will tear apart anything that comes between him and the human that saved his life.

Ratchet, the spitfire of a human had bothered saving him when his own kind left him to leak out in the mud. Cared enough to find fuel and feed him. He had learned quickly that Ratchet has a brilliant and clever processer. He matches Deadlock's glossa with his own with zero hesitation and either has no self preservation or no concept of fear. Which ever one, whatever keeps Ratchet going strong and steady could scare Unicron himself into submission.

Deadlock gives a fond hum as he recalls onlining to a very small hand petting his cheek muttering, "It's ok kid we're getting you out of here. Focus on me. Only me." While the ground shook around them. While screeches from the enemy closed in, almost drowned out the calming grumble of the bioengineer.

He snarls as something pings off his helm bringing him back to the hanger. His lip curls back enough to show a shiny fang. One of the little fraggers shot him with a... should he even call that a blaster? "ENOUGH!" A voice demanding respect and carries weight yells out when Deadlock lifts his left servo to grab the offending toy. Everyone pauses and falls silent. He hears a ting ping ping from his right leg. "Stop that line of thought right now Drift! Hand down!" Deadlock looks at Ratchet as Ratchet gives the plating around his knee a few good wacks with a... piece of wood that had bristles at the end. Deadlock gives an amused rumble and slowly sets his servo back down as he turns his right one slowly till it's palm up next to Ratchet. Ratchet huffs and grumbles but climbs on still wielding the mighty stick weapon. "What the hell are you doing in here you menace?"

"Ratchet~ I missed you. You are late coming to berth. For the sixth time. Iv come to escort you from work." Deadlock purrs as he lifts Ratchet slowly to his optics. He can't help but smirk at the twitching frown Ratchet gives.

"Ain't happening kid. I have a lot to do. Go back to your bed. Rest. You're still recovering." Ratchet says in his, this is not a request but an order, tone. "I don't need you here giving me more work. That's what you'll be doing if you make puddles out of any of my interns. We WILL have words if you do that by the way. Do not smash any of my workers." Ratchet growls back with no more heat then Deadlock has grown use to.

"More of a sad smoosh or splat then smash." Deadlock mumbles. He pauses as the wooden stick with bristles is waved in front of his optic, "Ah.. I mean... isn't scrapping your kind off of things the youngling's job?" That earned him a wack on his optic ridge. He gives a small grunt and closes his mouth.

"No, Firstaid doesn't handle all the dirty work Drift. Even if that was the case don't give the poor kid any more work you numbskull." Ratchet says lowly as the humans optics narrow. Deadlock watches as Ratchet swings the stick servo to servo. "Now get out of my lab or I'll make you."

Deadlock tilts his helm and raises an optic ridge. A devilish smirk spreads across his lips enough for his fangs to poke out. "Right right we're going." He rumbles while cupping a servo around Ratchet as he slowly shifts around to back out. His EM Field spreads out into a smug, pleased pulse as Ratchet yells and curses at him. He ignores the threats. No Ratchet will not take him apart from the inside out. He will go to berth to have the strength to do it in the lightcycle, if he wishes. But he won't, his squishy would never harm him. Sharp glossa, beautiful processer, and pure of spark. Deadlock vows he will protect his squishy with his whole being. "So Drift eh? Think my name will scare your subordinates? Our are we already on nicknames Doc?" He teases with not so well hidden pleaser/fondness.

OH YES THIS AKCNGNJGMGNGNGNGMGMGBDINFBMGGM

Next

[mrsshabana]

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓!𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎 ⛧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Being too afraid to spend another night alone, you decide to invite your best friend, Mitsuri, over for a sleepover. But you'll soon realize that was a mistake. Have you already forgotten how much your ghost loves to humiliate you? ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words.

༺ Art ༻

⇢ Chapter one ⇢ Chapter three ⇢ Kinktober Masterlist

The ghost stopped showing himself after that night. You could feel his presence but he never actually appeared like he had that first time.

But even though he wouldn't show himself, that didn't stop him from treating you like a toy. Knocking things over, shutting off the electricity, and even touching you while you slept. It was all a game to him.

And you'd be lying if you said you weren't terrified. Fed up of countless sleepless nights you decided to invite your best friend over for a sleepover, Mitsuri. In hopes that some company would make you feel more at ease. Or at least she would acknowledge your home was haunted so you'd feel less crazy.

But you should have known this would be a bad idea. You seem to have forgotten that the ghost gets a kick out of embarrassing you in front of other people.

Things are calm for now, though you still can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. Despite that, you still try to have a fun night with your friend.

The two of you sit on the couch in your pajamas, eating pizza, and watching a horror movie. The ring to be specific, as it's one of Mitsuri's favorites.

Then the iconic scene comes where the girl crawls through the tv, except something looks off. It looks so much more real than you remember.

The ghost crawls through your television, crawling onto the ground like some demented monster only to look into your eyes, striking fear into you.

You can't help but scream as your body jolts from the jumpscare.

"Y/N, haha!" Mitsuri laughs, "I thought you've seen this movie before! It's not that scary!"

What she doesn't know is that a ghost really did jump out of your tv! And he's rolling on the floor laughing his ass off.

"You should have seen your face!" He laughs hysterically.

You're about to say something to him before you remember Mitsuri has no idea he's there at all, so instead you're stuck trying to play it cool and ignore him like last time. "Oh haha sorry, that part gets me every time."

Mitsuri chuckles but returns her attention back to the movie, oblivious to the fact that there's an unwanted visitor in the room.

"C'mon you gotta admit that was pretty good," he smirks as he walks over to you, "I used to love this movie..." he trails off as he briefly thinks about his life when he was alive but he quickly shrugs it off, not wanting to think about it.

You want to talk to him, ask him questions, cuss him out, anything really. But you can't when Mitsuri is right there. It pisses you off that he decided to show himself now of all times and refused to do it when you were alone. But unbeknownst to you, he's doing it for a reason. Not only does he like toying with you but he also doesn't want you asking him questions about his past.

All you can do is look at him with a mixture of anger and confusion.

"What?" he quirks his brow, "Oh right, I guess I never really introduced myself." He plops beside you on the couch, "Name's Gyutaro."

You want to ask for a last name but knowing how much he hated you asking questions about his family, you know he'd probably refuse.

At least now you can get a proper look at him. He's tall and very thin with the palest skin you've ever seen. His long black hair seems weightless as it floats around his face. But what catches your eye is the black spots on his face. You don't know what they are but they look like birthmarks. The other thing you notice is the blood splatted on his t-shirt.

At first, you're confused but then you think about the fact that if he's a ghost, surely he must have died somehow. It makes you sad as you think about all that blood being a result of him dying in some violent way. He may be annoying but no one deserves that.

"Your friend is pretty cute," he interrupts your thoughts, "But not as cute as you... y'know I can't stop thinking about the other night. I could tell you liked it." He leans closer to your face, trying to get a reaction out of you.

"I think you owe me back. It's only fair," he says as he pulls down his pants, exposing his erection.

Your eyes widen at the sight. Maybe you should have expected this knowing how immature and horny he is, but you can't help but be shocked.

He leans back onto the sofa, getting comfortable as he languidly starts stroking himself.

You look over at Mitsuri, then to Gyutaro again. Your face heats up, completely embarrassed about the situation you're in. You know your friend can't see him but that doesn't make it any better! She's sitting on your right while this annoying ghost is jerking off on your left.

"Just touch it, I promise it doesn't bite," he moves his hips closer - gently tapping your arm with his member, "C'mon, pleaaase!" He whines like an entitled child.

You just cross your arms and refuse to give him any attention, hoping that he'll get bored and stop.

Even though he's annoying, you can't help but find something about him charming. Maybe it's the fact that he's not how you imagined ghosts to be. Or maybe it's that playful attitude he seems to have.

And honestly, you can't deny that he's attractive. Having a ghost haunting your new home isn't ideal, but at least he's sexy and seems to have taken a liking to you. He acts like a needy puppy, desperate for your attention.

Probably because he's been trapped here for so long, all alone.

But even so, how would it look if you started touching him? If Mitsuri glanced over she'd see you jerking off the air! How embarrassing that would be! So even if you're willing to play along, you can't do it now. And Gyutaro knows that, it's just all a part of the fun.

"Fine, be that way," he pouts as he tilts his head back and focuses on pleasuring himself.

You peek over to see him picking up the pace. Slowly bucking his hips as his eyes squeeze shut and the tip of his cock glistens with precum. Soft moans escape his lips as he gets closer and closer.

Shifting uncomfortably, you rub your thighs together - feeling your panties begin to moisten. Hopefully, he doesn't notice because you know it'll only make his cocky attitude worse.

"Fuck," he groans, "I'm so lucky a hottie like you moved in, Y/N. You have no idea."

"You're annoying, but at least you're somewhat of a friendly ghost," you think to yourself, wishing you could openly respond to him.

"Ah," he moans softly, leaning closer to you. You feel his body tense up and his hand stroke faster.

It's not long before he's spilling all over the place, shooting his load without any care for where it lands. It splatters on the couch, your arm, and on your lap - splattering all over the plate of pizza you had sitting there. You feel stupid for not moving it sooner, but you honestly didn't expect a ghost to be able to ejaculate like that.

What makes it even more disturbing is how cold and slimy it is.

He doesn't even bother to clean anything up, he just sits there panting with a sick grin on his face. "Heh, you look good like that."

Before you can grab a napkin to wipe it off, Mitsuri speaks up, "Are you going to eat your pizza, Y/N? You said you were starving but you haven't even taken a bite yet!"

"Haha! Yeah Y/N, you gonna eat it or not? I don't see nothing wrong with it," Gyutaro taunts.

Your face goes red, she must not be able to see the ghostly semen all over your pizza. "I-I um..." you choke, not wanting to do this.

"Oh come on, don't be a wuss!" Gyutaro teases.

"Mine tasted great! But if you don't want it I'll have it," Mitsuri says, reaching over and grabbing your plate.

"No! I'll eat it!" You snatch the plate, not wanting your friend to eat the tainted food.

You look at Gyutaro, narrowing your eyes to show your displeasure for what you're about to do.

Hesitantly opening your mouth, you take a bite of the pizza. You shudder as you feel the cold slimey substance hit your tongue and slide down your throat. The texture is disgusting but at least it doesn't really taste like anything.

Gyutaro begins to giggle, watching in amusement as you force his cum down your throat.

"That's it," he snickers, "Eat up like a good girl! I think I'll stay here and watch you eat every last bite!"

[blackbat05]

Real or Not Real?

Miguel O’Hara x Reader

Plot: You need a plus one for a wedding. Who better than your boss and perhaps the most hated person on your list.

Genre: PG-13, Enemies to Lovers (I would like to think so😬)

A/N: I’m on a roll. Also, I always wanted to do this trope! This is longer than usual. Reblogs and feedback appreciated!💜

“Shit!” Your phone bounces off the bed, landing inches away from another expensive repair.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica Drew looks up from the self help book that she was currently engaged in.

“An old classmate. I totally forgot about the wedding!” You groan, feet becoming more fidgety by the second.

“Right… and would you care to explain why you look like one of Norman Osborn’s pumpkins?” Your best friend looks at you cautiously, as if like you were a volcano waiting to explode any second.

“Well, she used to be great with everyone in school. Can’t say the same about myself.” You winced internally at the memories about your youth. “You know how it is. Everyone is either rich, successful or in love once they leave school.”

“Or maybe all three.” Jessica adds helpfully much to your chagrin.

“Thanks, Jess.” You refrain from rolling your eyes. “Anyways, the chat group got reignited and some genius started asking about ‘the girl who everyone always see but doesn’t really know’ and before I know it, everyone starts pestering me about how I’m doing!” You throw your hands dramatically in the air and Jessica can’t help but to look amused. “So?”

“So, I kinda told them that I have a reallyhotboyfriend.” The last few words are mashed into one big mess but still clear enough for Jessica to pick up. “You what now?”

Smelling the judgement from a mile away, you hang your head in defeat. “I know! I’m an idiot! I couldn’t help myself okay? This is what happens when you attend a private all girls’ school. You stand out for being weird and suddenly The Plastics start making your entire school life hell.”

“The Plastics?”

“It’s a movie reference.”

“Why am I not surprised.” Jessica chuckles. “So what now girl? How’s damage control going?”

“Terrible.” You splat face first into the pillow. “I was thinking of getting help from the guys but…” You hold up four fingers, ticking them off one by one. “Pavitr can’t pretend, Hobie’ too unpredictable, Miles is too young and Peter’s married with a child - a fact I can’t ignore even if this is fake.”

Jessica looks at your closed fingers, tapping her chin thoughtfully. If being friends with her taught you anything, this wasn’t a good sign.

“There is one more option. I think he would fit your description of a really hot boyfriend.” She deliberately gives you a meaningful look that makes you leap off the bed, throwing her an accusing look.

“Actually, I think I’m going to ask Gwen. Do you know where I can find her?”

“Long gone. She went to visit Captain Stacey.” Jessica quips. “Come on. He’s a good option. Besides, this is a great opportunity to know him better!”

“I rather tangle with the loch-ness monster instead.” You mumble, thinking about your very first encounter with the man of the hour - Miguel O’Hara. The two of you were a good representation of day and night.

While you were bright and upbeat, the leader of the Spider Society probably didn’t have the word ‘joy’ in his dictionary. As you attempted to introduce yourself to him at your first meeting, he had simply brushed you aside.

“Miguel isn’t that bad once you get to know him.”

“Very funny, Jess. You should be comedian of the year. Did you forget how he yelled at me when I pushed him out of the way from Kingpin’s gangbangers?”

Jessica opens her mouth slightly, only to shut it soon after. You frown, turning your back to see whatever she was staring at behind you. How you wished you hadn’t. Oh, if only the ground could swallow you whole as Miguel himself stands at the door, staring at you with an unreadable expression.

“What- how long have you been here for?” You struggle to form that one sentence. “Jess…” You start accusingly.

Jessica shrugs, taking Miguel’s presence as a sign to leave. “I’ll leave you two to it!” She gives you a wink that results in your mouth hanging agape. Miguel closes the door and you quickly attempt to compose yourself.

“I’ll do it.”

“Do what?”

Miguel raises a brow. “Be your date.” He says it all too nonchalantly, as if choosing at empanada at the supermarket. You blink, pinching yourself out of his sight. The situation was very real. He stands in front of you, waiting.

“What do you want from me?” You blurt out. “You want something in return.” You clarify once more, trying to make sense of things.

The end of Miguel’s lips turn upwards slightly, and you’re worried that the sudden acceleration of your heart would unable to support your body to stand upright.

“I just want to apologize for my behavior and I happened to overhear your conversation.” He responds and you make a mental note to never trust Jessica again for not warning you about his presence.

“Am I in some kind of alternate dimension?” You laugh, trying to defuse the awkwardness. Miguel remains impassive, eyes staring intently into yours.

“What’s it going to be? You can take me or you can look like a liar to everyone. It’s your choice.”

You hate to say it, but he’s right.

***

“You came!” Your old friend comes barreling into you, giving you a big hug.

“Lils! You look amazing!” You gushed, returning the hug. “Congratulations. What a beautiful place.” You refer to the beachside wedding that she insisted on.

“Thanks! Jeju Island was always on my bucket list. I’m so glad I get to share this memory with all of you!” She gushes, turning to your plus one. “I mean, I finally get to see who has stolen your heart!” She extends a hand. “And who may you be?”

“Miguel O’Hara.” He extends his own hand for a shake. “Congratulations.”

“No need for the formalities!” Lilly smiles brightly. “What I do want to know is how you two got together! You can be away from her for a little can’t you?”

Before the two of you can even say anything, you find yourself being pulled away by Lilly while the groom effortlessly picks up the conversation with Miguel. She brings you aside, within the sight of the two men.

“Tell me everything!” She pounces on you like a tiger, demanding to know your first encounter. You give what you hope was a easy smile. “We’re… colleagues.” You don’t think exposing both your superhero personas would do well, not especially when you got here by inter dimensional traveling.

Your friend seems to be satisfied by this as she squeals. She hits your shoulder a little too aggressively, wanting more. You sigh, hoping that Miguel wasn’t being interrogated this intensively on his end.

“We just had the same interests and kind of clicked.” You prayed that the questioning would stop soon. “Everything was just a blur after.”

Lilly nods, throughly invested in your fake love story. She’s about to ask another question when a sharp voice pierced through the air, causing you to be rooted to the ground. You really wanted to run away at that moment.

“What is this that I’m hearing? You’re actually seeing someone?” The clack of heels come to a stop and you find yourself facing your tormentor.

“It’s nice to see you too, Becca.” You grit through your teeth. The woman remains oblivious to your discomfort as she addresses the two others trailing behind her. “I wonder who’s the lucky man nice enough to pick her up!”

“That’s enough, I invite you to my wedding out of our friendship but this doesn’t give you the right to insult her.” Lilly shoots back, keeping her eyes trained on your curled fists.

“It’s alright, Lils.” You try to remain calm. “Let’s go. I’ll tell you everything later.” You take the lead to escort her back when Becca’s comment brings you to a halt.

“I bet he isn’t even real!”

Although she was right, you couldn’t help but to turn around, wanting to give Becca and her posse a piece of your mind. Something that you should have done a very long time ago.

“Oh, I’m very real alright.”

You see Miguel walking up towards the trio. Was it just you or did Miguel look… angry?

He composes himself, giving a charming grin to the trio who looked like they were going to start falling at his feet any moment.

“Miguel O’Hara. She has told me a lot about you three.”

“Oh, she has?” Becca twirls the edge of her skirt nervously and you don’t know where Miguel is going with this.

“Sure. She’s told me all about how you three dimwits made her entire life hell. Honestly? I don’t even know how that happened when she’s a hundred times classier with more substance than you plastics claim to have.” Miguel catches your eye and gives a quick wink.

“Excuse me?” Becca stutters. “Oh, I get it. She must have paid you to say that!”

Miguel walks over and gently loops an arm over your shoulders. By now, the conversation seemed to have attracted every guest who were lining up at the buffet table.

“Nope. But you know what she is? She is the most courageous and selfless person who wouldn’t hesitate to help others. I don’t think you three would even come close to understanding what that means.”

Miguel has done it. He’s left them speechless and every guest is know giving disapproving looks to the trio who can only storm away in embarrassment.

“I think I’m not that hungry yet. How about we take a walk?”

You realize that Miguel is asking you, so you nod numbly and find yourself being led out of the venue. You see Lilly standing at the entrance greeting guests.

Catching your eyes, she gives you a thumbs up and a mischievous grin, not bothered at all about the verbal altercation that was inadvertently caused by you. Amidst the chaos, one thought was clear in your mind.

Just what is going on?

***

The rainbow colored blocks providing as seats for families, friends and couples to take photos makes the sea look even clearer. Silence overtaking the two of you, you busy yourself with noticing how the jagged edges of the rocks are a wonderful addition to the waves crashing near the shore.

“What’s going on up there?”

Finally. You prepare yourself, stopping beside the statue. “I was just about to ask you the same thing O’Hara.” You take a brave step closer towards the hulking man and he briefly looks away before staring back at you. “Not that I’m ungrateful but that wasn’t like you.”

“Then, what am I supposed to be?”

You paused. “Well… you’re supposed to be grumpy and grouchy and keeping me at arm’s length I guess?” You search for the right words as Miguel contains a chuckle seeing how flustered you were becoming by the second. “And you’re suddenly being nice to me? Hell would have to freeze over.”

Miguel closes the already small gap between the two of you and you suddenly feel hot at his gaze. He examines you for a while and you think he’s about to deliver another sharp retort.

“I did try. I tried to keep you away but you were too bright and cheerful for your own good.” Miguel gruffly tells you. “You were so much like her.”

You knew that he was referring to his past. His wife whom no one really dared to talk about. You finally understood. To him, you were a walking and living painful reminder.

“I’m sorry.” You breathed out. The air suddenly constricts in your lungs and you feel the need to get away. Anywhere but here. You turn around and find yourself being pulled into him. Miguel hugs you, and he hugs you tight.

“No, I’m the idiot. I punished you for seeing you as someone else.” He confesses. “I should have just seen you as… you. You were so bright and so brave, I almost lost it when you took the bullets from Kingpin. That’s when I knew my behavior had to stop. I wanted to tell you and I guess I saw this as the perfect opportunity.”

“Oh.” You don’t know how else to react to this sudden revelation.

“But I meant every word. About me apologizing for my past behavior.” Miguel continues. “And that. Earlier on.” He refers to his relentless counter attack on your tormentors. “I didn’t know that you had to go through all that.”

“Hey, we all go through things right? Kind of a ticket to join the spider society.” You try to lighten things up. “Besides, it’s nothing big.”

Miguel pries you away gently, a slight frown on his face. “Don’t minimize your struggles. You are a hundred times stronger than those three combined. After all, that’s what made you stood out to me in the first place.”

Your heart swells at his statement. As you hear the waves crashing, it felt as if like it gave you a sense of newfound confidence as well. It was all or nothing now. You’re inches away from Miguel, his rosy cheeks prominent from the strong breeze that the coastal city offered. “I just have one more question.”

Miguel cocks his head to the side, curious. He doesn’t interrupt, giving permission for you to go ahead.

“You love me. Real or not real?”

He takes you by the waist, lips on yours. It could be minutes or hours before he lets go, leaving you in a daze. But the movement of his lips are as clear as day. One that would be forever etched in your memory.

“Real.”

[iicaru2]

we all agree on the comedic value of astarion being a horrid little terror of a son-in-law to ulder ravengard, but id like to introduce you to another point: the dark urge (inspired by my 2nd durge run where im romancing wyll)

post-iron throne debacle, ulder is still reeling from the revelations that he is a Bad Father and wyll is the sweetest most forgiving man on the continent, and his son cheerfully decides to introduce him to his love, the person he plans to spend the rest of his life with— and ulder is trying, so he prepares himself to play nice with the cheeky little vampire spawn that practically hangs off his son and flirts with him every chance he gets, or perhaps the very sweet, very strong tiefling that almost dislocated his arm giving him a handshake.

instead, he comes face to face with the guy that stormed past him earlier muttering about blood and intestines, glaring at him with murderous intent that outpaces their soon-to-be dead sister, somehow covered in blood first thing in the morning. the same guy who threatened to put him back in the ocean if he didnt quit insulting wylls entire being the other night. the entire time his son is gently holding hands with the wretched bhaalspawn who only agreed to save ulders life because, if they didnt, wyll would be sad.

and wyll, aforementioned sweetest man on the continent, keeps smiling and saying things like “arent they wonderful, this is the person that helped free me from mizora and save you, i dont believe ive ever met anyone to be so kind to me,” while the dark urge silently murder-glares at ulder all the while, promising death should he ever hurt his wonderful son again. ulder has to watch these two adorably dance and declare sweet things to each other as if durge wasnt just imagining ulder as a splat of gore on the stones underfoot seconds prior.

and then he has to watch them get married, with all their slightly mad friends in tow. it is a glorious disaster.

[sailortongue]

"Baking with my boyfriend!"

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 1.6k

summary: you run a popular baking vlog, and after a Q&A video where you said your boyfriend helped you eat all the delicious things you baked, the people demanded a bf reveal

------

“Hi guys!” You waved at the camera enthusiastically. “In honor of the upcoming fall season, today I’m going to be showing you how to bake pumpkin bread!” You were practically sunshine incarnate when you were filming for your viewers, but today was special and you were even more cheery than usual.

The last video you did was a Q&A and apparently many viewers were very curious about what you do with all the baked goods you make because surely you don't eat all of that yourself. You’d laughed, pleased to tell them that you share everything with your lovely boyfriend, and, if you made a particularly large batch of something, then he’d take them to work for his coworkers.

You hadn’t thought much of it, but when you read through the comments it was flooded with requests for a boyfriend reveal. You’d immediately called Spencer into the living room, excitedly asking him if he’d film a video with you. How could he possibly say no to you when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes? He caved embarrassingly quickly, but frankly he’d do anything if it meant that beautiful smile would continue to be directed at him.

And so here you were, standing in your kitchen with Spencer and getting the ingredients and supplies assembled. Now, as much as you loved him, there was a reason he’d never been in one of your videos before: that man was a klutz in the kitchen. For all his intelligence, he couldn't bake a cake to save his life.

Spencer, bless his heart, had neglected to place the eggs in a bowl and accidentally knocked one off the counter, sending it to splat onto the floor. You glanced at the cracked egg slowly seeping across the floor and then back up to Spencer, a grin teasing the edge of your lips. He did the same as you, and as you both made eye contact the tension broke, both of you bursting into laughter.

“I’ll clean it up,” he said sheepishly. “And get another egg.”

You chuckled and continued with your instructions. “Once Spence gets that taken care of, then we’ll have everything we need to start. As usual, we’re going to preheat the oven while we prepare everything. This particular recipe says 325℉ but if any of you would like to bake this at home, there is a note at the bottom of the recipe. It says that if you're using a one pound loaf pan instead of a 9x5, then it may come out underbaked, and if you feel like you need to add more time to it then you should bake at 350℉ instead.”

You felt Spencer’s presence return to your side, this time placing the eggs in a bowl to prevent any more mishaps. He bent down and kissed the top of your head as his way of apologizing. You reciprocated the action and got on your tippy toes to kiss his chin since it was the closest you could get.

Continuing with the recipe, you put Spencer in charge of the streusel topping since it was the most straight forward. You were confident that even with his lacking baking skills he’d be able to do it. You were promptly proven wrong.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” you said.

“Really?” he asked excitedly, ever eager to please you.

“Very. I think you got more flour on the counter than in the bowl.”

He threw his head back and groaned. “Oh come on, it's not that bad.”

“Whatever you say, hun. Can you put it in the fridge?”

He nodded, and you turned your attention back to the camera. “And now for the star of the show we’re going to start on the batter!” As you spoke animatedly and explained every step of the process, Spencer was watching you with rapt attention, a small smile fixed on his face.

Occasionally you’d ask him to measure out some of the ingredients and put them in. You’d had to correct him that the brown sugar had to be packed in, but other than that there was no way he could mess up. The only notable thing that happened was his insistence on tasting the vanilla extract. How could something that smelled so good taste so bad? He was going to learn the hard way and there was nothing you could do to spare the stubborn man. You had practically doubled over with laughter when his expression instantly changed to one of profound disgust. He rushed to the kitchen sink, trying in vain to spit out the vile liquid.

He was positively green when he looked back over at you. “Why would you let me do that?”

Taking pity on him, you poured him a glass of water and handed it to him. “Here, swish.”

He took it gratefully and did as you said. “Thank you. Lesson learned. Vanilla extract is a liar.”

“Would stirring make it better?” you asked, offering the whisk to him.

“No, but licking the batter might.”

You shrugged, “Your loss.”

With your attention back on the camera, Spencer took the opportunity to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and watching you mix the dry ingredients into the wet ones from over your shoulder. He took advantage of the close proximity and placed a tender kiss on your temple. You were practically melting on the spot at how domestic everything felt.

“Ok, so with that all mixed up the next thing we have to do is pour it into a greased loaf pan and then sprinkle the streusel on top.” You turned your face to the side, “Hey, hun, can you get the streusel from the fridge?” He hummed in affirmation, leaving you to pour the batter, intentionally leaving a bit more than you usually would to make up for Spencer’s unfortunate experience with the vanilla.

He resumed his position at the counter, standing next to you this time. He was eyeing the bowl with the leftover batter, being very obvious about what he wanted. You giggled. “Trade?” Without a word, he snatched the bowl and handed you the cold one with the topping. As you were sprinkling it onto the top, Spencer was busying himself with licking the spatula.

“Perfect!” you exclaimed when you were done. “Now all that’s left is to put it in the oven for an hour and twenty minutes.” After closing the oven door, you turned to see Spencer scraping more of the batter from the bowl and onto the spatula. You also noticed that some of it was smeared around the corners of his lips. You huffed a breath out through your nose, finding him utterly adorable. You grabbed a rag from the drawer and ran it under the faucet. You walked over to Spencer and he spoke before you could do anything. “If the batter is anything to go by, then the bread will be delicious.”

“Of course it will. I think it'll be one of the best, just because you helped me with it.” He beamed at you. “That was cheesy, but cute.”

“C’mere,” you said, placing your hand on his cheek and adjusting his face so he’d look straight at you. You brought up the hand with the wet rag, wiping his face. He laughed and took the rag from you, using it to clean the stickiness from his hands as well.

Now that there was nothing to do but wait for the pumpkin bread to finish baking, you stopped recording and set about cleaning the mess you two had made.

With both of you working together, the kitchen was pristine in no time. You decided you’d go ahead and start editing the footage you already had, and by the time you had it looking as aesthetic as always, the oven timer went off. You gasped excitedly, hopping off the couch where you were sitting next to Spencer. You quickly slipped on a pair of oven mitts and took it out to cool.

Thirty minutes later and you began recording again. “I wish y’all could smell my kitchen right now,” you started. “Smells so good. Like cinnamon and pumpkin goodness.”

You cut two slices of the loaf, one for each of you. Spencer took a bite before you did and groaned. “It's so good,” he said.

“Better than the batter?” you teased.

“Definitely.”

You took your own bite and reacted just as he had. It really was tasty. “10/10. You guys should definitely make this at home! It’s perfectly moist and pumpkin-y and the streusel topping adds a lot of texture. I hope you all enjoyed this video and I’ll see you next time! Bye!” You waved at the camera before stopping the footage.

There wasn’t much editing that needed to be done since the second take was just a review of the dessert, so you had the video uploaded shortly after, titling it "Baking with my boyfriend!"

You were both splitting a second slice when you started getting notifications on the video. Spencer placed the plate down on the coffee table and got comfy next to you, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. You leaned into his side and opened the app to read the incoming comments.

“#relationshipgoals”

“You two are so cute!”

“Does he have a twin brother? 👀”

“Can we reply?” asked Spencer. You nodded and handed him your phone.

“Does he have a twin brother? 👀”

“Sorry, @user but no, I don’t.”

“Homeboy is so down bad”

“According to Yn, that means I’m infatuated with her. Yes, I am.”

“Omg his HANDS”

“Thank you? I guess?”

You laughed at his reply to the comment about his hands.

“Did yall see the way they look at each other? 🥺”

“Lmao see if he’ll try cacao powder”

Spencer looked at you after reading the cacao powder comment. “Is cacao powder also a liar?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It tastes just like chocolate.”

[paperbackribs]

Eddie's Proposal

Prompt Day 28 – Proposal | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Eddie and Chrissy are besties, pre-steddie, buckingham, no Upside Down AU | WC: 877  For the @steddieholidaydrabbles

💘💅💘💅💘

“I have a proposal for you,” Eddie says.

Chrissy looks up from filing her nails, splayed across his bed with head and hands hanging off the edge, “I thought we established you don’t swing that way, babe.”

Folding his legs under him, Eddie sits cross-legged on the navy carpet by her side. David Bowie plays softly in the background because he’s not a barbarian and he’d do anything for this girl; plus, Steve loves Dancing in the Street and who is Eddie to not develop an appreciation in the gorgeous face of all that enthusiasm?

He tuts at her, “But you do about the other half of the time, so I have a proposal for you.”

“Eddie, dear, darling of my heart, you should have brought a ring. Maybe a big cheesy placard with hearts painted all over it.” She focuses on a particularly rough edge, squinting at it. “Diamond princess cut, please and thank you, sweetheart.”

Eddie scoffs even as he rubs his sweaty palms over his knees. The album fades into Cat People and Bowie roars that he’s been putting out fire with gasoline. He wonders if the lyrics are why he feels so hot suddenly. “No, not for me. For Steve.”

Chrissy’s smile is immediate and bright, “Thank God. Yes, do it. Ask him out, for sure.” Her long blonde hair shakes around her face as she laughs, a beautiful tinkling sound that spears through his heart. Eddie grips his knee; this is what he wants, he reminds himself.

“I think you’ll have to do it, he’s too shy,” Eddie says around the copper in his mouth.

Chrissy snorts, shooting him a wry look, “Steve Harrington? Shy? He struts around in barely there short shorts whenever we come over for his pool. The man doesn’t have a shy bone in his body.”

“There’s a bone somewhere,” Eddie mutters to himself, thinking of the heart palpitations he’s suffered from an affectionate, touchy-feely Steve by the poolside. Louder he says, “But you know it’s different for emotional stuff. He’s been hurt before and I think he’s gun shy.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t track,” she rebuts, frowning as she accidentally chips a piece of baby blue polish off. “He’s been very clear that he wants to move on. And with who.”

Eddie feels the blood drain from his face, dropping below the heart that has fallen out of his chest with a splat. “He’s asked you out already.” As he watches Chrissy’s face move through a series of complicated expressions, Eddie tells his heart to get itself under control: this is good, this was the goal all along.

“Eddie,” Chrissy begins, throwing aside her file to prop herself above him on her elbows, he tilts his head up to meet her suspicious gaze. “Are you asking me to date Steve? Not someone else?”

“Definitely not someone else,” Eddie answers quickly. “He should have the best and you’re the best, you two would be… the best together,” he finishes lamely albeit sincerely.

Eddie immediately knows that his crush on Steve has been ill-hidden when her wide blue eyes fill with pity. What he doesn’t expect is for amusement to swiftly replace it. “You’re an idiot,” she says affectionately.

Eddie straightens, he doesn’t expect her to cede ground to Steve because well, look at the gorgeous, sweet fucker, but she doesn’t need to rub his nose in it. “I know,” he sighs, “And I shouldn’t have let myself develop feelings for him, but at the very least I would be happy if he were happy.”

He moves up, kneeling like a knight under his queen, taking her hand in earnest, “You two are the best people in my life, and I just know you’d be good for each other.”

“Eddie…” She moves her free hand up to his head and instead of the gentle stroke he had expected she takes a chunk of his hair and yanks it, hard. “Ow, motherfucker!” He jerks back, staring at her incredulously.

“Eddie Munson, who does Steve spend all his time with?” She demands exasperatedly.

“Me,” he shakes his sore head, “That’s how I know you two would fit.”

“Yeah, well, Robin might knee-cap you for suggesting it.”

“Robin? You and…” Eddie tilts his head, the only way he can keep the world in focus as it tips over. “Yes, me and Robs,” Chrissy rolls her eyes, “And I think she would knee-cap me if I tried to hit on Steve when he clearly wants you.”

The world is still tilting, he thinks as he wordlessly points to himself. Chrissy nods, smirking. “Apparently, she’s not that far off of doing the same to Steve, if only to put him out of his misery.”

“Because he wants… me?” Eddie whispers because reverent things should be treated delicately. Chrissy patiently nods, allowing him time to reconcile the hope ballooning inside him against the sudden drumming of impatience.

Eddie drops her hand, scrambling up. “Sorry princess, I have to see a man about a proposal,” he calls out as he runs out of the room.

Chrissy shakes her head, grabbing her file and flopping back onto the pillows on his bed. “I’m surrounded by idiots,” she mutters, thinking about how Robin’s going to lose it when she tells her about this later.

[storm-angel989]

Yo I love your work.. anyway can I request Val x Fem Reader when Reader is on their period and the rest is up to you (I’ll cry if you actually notice)

Hi Friend,

Thank you for sending in your request! I always notice and read a request- sometimes it just takes time for my brain to buzz.

Now I have written this before. The link is here:

Valentino x Reader (Period Pains)

That being said….

Here is another version! Think OTO reader and Val after they’re married. 

<3 Mandy

The bright red stains on my favorite pajama pants began the start of that cursed day. It was going to be one of those mornings that lasted all day. 

It didn’t help that I woke up alone, my husband off to do whatever it was he did in his studio. Vox and Velvette were working and me? I was by myself. Which, as I poured myself a cup of coffee and stirred in my creamer, I figured was better that way. 

I lifted the mug to my lips and took the first sip of what should have been a heavenly experience. Instead, I was met with the bitter taste of peppermint.  I spat it into the sink and went to set my mug down. Somehow I missed the counter and shards of ceramic splatted the floor. 

“Fuck!” I yelled across the empty flat. I grabbed a roll of paper towels and cleaned up the mess as quickly as I could, tossing the shards into the garbage. Housekeeping would be up later, but with how the day was already turning out, I didn’t want to risk stepping on a rouge shard. 

“Who the fuck puts peppermint into their coffee without mocha?” I growled aloud as I shoved the creamer back in the fridge. 

Of course, I knew the answer was Vox. As much as he pretended he only drank black coffee, those of us who lived with him knew his guilty pleasure. Random flavored coffee creamers that appeared in the fridge each time it was restocked. It was just my bad luck that I had grabbed the wrong one this morning. 

Shoving the thought of making another cup of coffee to the side, I jumped into the shower, willing the hot water to take away the cramps that slowly awakened with each movement of the day. Fuck, there were some days I hated being a girl. 

But, like all women, being on our period wasn’t an excuse to miss work. Going to see Velvette in her studio was always an option, but just the thought of being touched by another being made me annoyed. I gingerly dressed myself and pulled my hair up into a bun. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I grumbled as I tried to hide the tiny whiteheads that appeared overnight with a strong dose of foundation. 

“Okay, I can do this,” I said to my reflection as I swallowed down several advil. “I got this.” 

Ten hours, eighteen phone calls and one ruined pair of underpants later, I stormed back upstairs to our apartment. 

“Babygirl, you’re home late,” Valentino’s voice rang out.

“I know, fuck,” I snapped without thought. The cramps, masked by the Advil I had taken this morning, left me both nauseous and crabby.  Every part of my body ached, and I could feel a headache starting to brew. I slammed the door behind me as I stripped off my outfit for the day. 

The bright red bloodstain on the back of my dress. I stared at it and without really knowing why, I burst into tears in the middle of my room. 

“Bebita?” Valentino’s voice came quietly from behind me. 

I felt him tug the dress from my hand and he wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t have to say a thing and instead laid my head on his chest as I sobbed. 

“Nothing a little stain remover can’t take out,” he said soothingly. “It’s alright. Why don’t you get in the shower? I’ll get your pjs and…”

“My two favorite ones are wrecked,” I choked out softly. “I bled all over the ones this morning, and my backups have a hole in them and…”

He pressed a finger to my lip and kissed my forehead. “Just let me figure it out while you go shower, okay?” 

There was something about he way he said it that left me with a feeling of comfort. I disappeared into the shower and by the time I came out, he was leaning against the bathroom sink, waiting. He handed me a towel and watched as I wrapped it around myself. 

“I have a heating pad and a cup of tea ready for you in bed. Toast, if you’re hungry. Advil if you want it. And if you’re in the mood to cuddle, I’m here. If not, I can stay with you or give you space. Remote is yours either way.” He pointed to a pile of clothes. “Period underpants. Vel sent them up. And…wear my pjs tonight. They’ll be looser than anything you own.” 

“Thanks, Val,” I said softly. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch when I came in.”

He cracked a smile. “Mi amore, I don’t think you know the true meaning of that word. Come on out when you’re ready.” 

I watched the door close behind me and got dressed in the outfit he left for me. I settled into bed next to him and sipped the warm tea. 

“I love you Val,” I said after a few moments. 

“I love you too, bebita. Even when you’re cranky,” he replied lightly. “And I always will.”

[elfwitchtrickster]

A trickster’s pranks - Loki fluff oneshot

Summary: Y/N is known for being a prankster and Loki is the most notorious trickster of all time. Only chaos can ensue when these two team up

Tony let out a large yawn as he picked up the empty kettle. The other avengers were all seated in the living room, talking or watching tv. Loki was quietly reading his book, next to Wanda who was showing Peter some small, non-lethal magic tricks. "Whoaaa" Peter laughed in the background, as Stark rubbed his eyes blearily. As he turned on the tap the kettle filled, not with water but a dark red liquid and Tony yelled loudly, almost dropping the kettle.

"What is it?" The others questioned before he turned around and set the kettle on the countertop for everyone to see, the ghastly sight was met with gasps of shock. "Who would? How could this have-" "This must be a message from our enemies" Tony said, staring into the sloshing liquid. "And if they've managed to do this, that means they're inside the building, all barricades up an-" Before he could continue he heard a muffled laughing coming from behind one of the large pillars.

As he rounded it, he discovered his intern Y/N with her hand clasped over her mouth in effort to contain her giggles. "Y/N" he said sternly, as if he were talking to a puppy that had ruined the furniture. "Did you do this?" He asked gesturing towards the kettle upon the countertop. "Maybe" she said with a wide grin and another laugh. All the avengers groaned and sat back down, shaking their heads as Y/N rolled around on the floor in laughter.

Some of the others like Peter and Thor also joined in her laughter, along with Loki, surprisingly. " I swear to god, this is worse than when reindeer games turned my coffee into snakes" he said glaring at the god of mischief who only smirked in response. "One day, one of your pranks is gonna get you killed you know" Clint said with a small smile. "That's the fun of it!" Y/N replied.

She played many a practical joke on the avengers throughout the next few months. Her escapades included scaring Natasha, which ended with a dagger to her neck, hiding Clint's arrows throughout the compound and feeding Thor an ice cream sandwich that had been replaced with toothpaste instead of ice cream. All of these were found enjoyable by the rest of the team, but none more so than Loki whose eyes lit up every time there was a scream or yell of frustration from one of Y/N's antics. As a result he began talking to the intern more often, frequently requesting drinks or books in an effort to talk to her. They became fast friends, engaging in conversations about their favourite books or the best pranks they had played on their friends.

To the heroes' horror the two began collaborating in their pranks, combining Y/N's knowledge of the others and Loki's production value. Together they almost burned down the compound a total of 3 times in a month, but no matter how many tricks they played, the others never seemed to expect it.

"So it'll burst when Steve walks under it?" Y/N whispered to Loki as they hid behind a wall near the gym. "Yes, it's enchanted so it will sense him just before he enters, which should give the paint enough time to fall" he murmured back. They waited giddily, for their target to arrive, Steve visited the gym at 6 am every morning and that's exactly where they were, 2 minutes before he was due to arrive.

Y/N fumbled with her camera a bit before finding the perfect angle to capture Steve, ever since she and Loki had started cranking people together, they had filmed each and every one of their tricks, as a trophy of their achievements. Right on cue, the super soldier sauntered toward the gym's entrance. It was silent for all but his footsteps before "SPLAT". Steve whirled around in confusion, green and yellow paint flying all around him. He shook his hands and yelled "LOKIIIII! Y/NNNNNN!" In frustration. The pair in question were silently giggling from their hidden viewpoint, quietly high fiving each other.

However when Steve ran back to where he had came from and caught sight of the tricksters they had no choice but to run. Skidding and slipping through the hallways, Loki revelled in the sound of her laugh. After a few minutes he found a small laundry cupboard to hide in. He grabbed Y/N by the sleeve and dragged inside, shutting the door just before Steve could see them.

Each held their breath as they listened for the super soldier's footsteps with mischievous grins. As Loki looked down at his partner in crime he noticed just how close they were, pushed together by the cramped closet. In the dim light he could still admire her playful smile and he noticed how her eyes sparkled as she peeked through the slats of the door.

A warm sensation spread through his chest and he found himself leaning towards her. It was as if some invisible force was pulling the god of mischief towards her. But Y/N turned to face him, Loki abruptly came to a stop. He played it off as fidgeting in the tight cupboard and Y/N believed him.

They carefully exited their hiding spot looking for any sign of the Captain. As she made her way back to the living room a smile grew on his face. Oh dear Asgard, what was he to do with these feelings, he asked himself. But somehow he couldn't manage to be worried, about being in love with someone to wonderful.

[witless-winion1]

Eurylochus’s nightmares

inspired by: (https://www.tumblr.com/caramellcandy/772384179167051776/they-transformed-and-it-wasnt-quick-she-turned) @caramellcandy

The smile tempted him. The beautiful, welcoming palace tempted him. The smell that promised warm, fresh food tempted him. 

And yet there was something wrong, something he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Eurylochus had to stay outside, he had to. But hunger was so heavy, and the rest of the men were going inside too. So he followed them in, into the strange woman’s palace. 

The place was familiar; large and elegant, like the palace back in Ithaca, the palace of his friend…whose name he couldn’t quite remember. 

His gaze moved from the pink flowers blooming from every surface- the potted plants, the woman’s hair, the wind bag settled on his plate, with strange, alluring scents. 

The woman swept closer to him, and food was brought in, young girls that looked like nymphs settling roasted meat and vegetables and fresh fruit on the table- pouring wine into a goblet with a lotus settled on the bottom. The nymph serving him pulled away once she was done pouring, a red headband tied around her wrist. 

He reached forward and drank. It was delicious. 

The woman smiled as his fellow men dug in, devouring what was given freely to them. He did as well, his stomach growled as he ate, lacking manners he knew he should have, yet he couldn’t find it in himself. His heart pounded frantically in his chest; he couldn’t seem to figure out why, so he did his best to ignore it?

Time passed, perhaps minutes, perhaps an hour, before he looked up from his refilling goblet and saw something pink across him from the table. One of the other men, he couldn’t remember his name, was staring at his empty plate. How strange. Eurylochus’s plate had magically refilled itself when he was done. 

The man began to writhe, shaking and staring blankly at the plate, before he fell backwards off the bench he sat on. There was a horribly familiar splatting sound, like a club had been smacked into him instead of him simply hitting the floor.

Eurylochus jumped up, as fast as he could, but it felt like he was moving through water, sluggishly rounding the table to see the man was fine, there were no broken bones or broken glasses, no red blood staining his tunic. 

There was pink blood, though. 

Pink blood that stained his face, his bottom, his hair, and strange features growing from the unseen wounds, hairy and round and fleshy. First a snout, and the man howled and clutched his bottom as a curly tail ripped through his clothing, and the howl melted into a strange squealing noise. There was laughter echoing in harmony as the other men pointed and chortled at their comrade, before the biggest one stopped and twisted with a grunt, grabbing a piece of pork and smacking the man sitting next to him with it. The victim screamed and thrashed, the deep brown-red food leaving a pink mark on his face, and the laughter roared louder as the second man jerked, his wordless protests becoming pained and then animalistic as Eurylochus blinked and then there were two swine where his fellow soldiers had been. 

His hands started to itch, and he rubbed at them as the largest man opened his mouth snout and stood up, his hooves clopping across the floor as he began to dance away, running off to open a cupboard that hadn’t been there before, and dozens of little gray, furry beasts scuttled out like spiders. They swarmed the fourth man, silently burying him in cuteness, and when they retreated his crewmate had been replaced with a large, round, pink creature.

Eurylochus looked around desperately, rubbing his hands harder as he realized that every man he’d come in here with was now a pig. Two squealing in distress, one wrestling with one of the furry beasts, screaming it’s treasure! in unison in funny, high-pitched voices. One had sat back down at the table like nothing was wrong, continuing to eat his slice of roasted pork. 

There was a hand on his shoulder, and Eurylochus jerked and tried to look at it, but his head wouldn’t move, body wouldn’t obey him, it wouldn’t-

His heart hammered, his lungs wouldn’t breathe- he was drowning-

The hand shifted on his shoulder, a cunning, fanged smile sliding into view. His eyes tracked the glinting teeth, glowing eyes in his peripheral vision that he couldn’t meet. 

“Come on, my dear. Give into it. How much longer til your luck runs out?” The pink woman’s hands dug into his shoulder, the smirk growing. 

He tried to reach for his sword, pull it from the sheath that his lovely wife had designed for him (what was her name again?) but it was no longer there, gone, and he opened his mouth to scream for his captain, scream for anyone as his body shrank, it was like that time he’d stepped into an ant’s nest when he was younger, following Odysseus around- but no sound that could be recognized as his own came out, no, it was so shrill and high-pitched that it hurt the ears on top of his head. The woman was getting taller, the world around him blurring and growing, as the pink ants consumed him, and when he looked down he was pink, and his hooves reached up to feel the ears sprouting from his hair, and he was still screaming-

-still squealing as the sharp, clawed hand on his shoulder grew softer, shorter, shaking him vigorously. 

“-rylochus. Eurylochus!”

He gasped, his straining voice cutting off as his eyes cracked open, a blur of dark brown and a strip of red in his vision. 

“There you are.” The hand squeezed his shoulder, and his vision focused to see Odysseus, frowning down at him. “You alright?” 

Eurylochus stared at him, shaking and sweating. “O-Ody?”

“Yeah, it’s me. I’d advise not to sleep in the Underworld. Gives you strange dreams.” 

Eurylochus let out a shaky sigh, looking around at his cot in the crew’s quarters. “Yeah…yeah, okay…”

Odysseus sat back. “What were you even dreaming about? I’ve never seen you thrash and squeal like that.” 

“…Nothing, captain.”

[frog-man-moments]

Villain agent 8 au: UPDATED

(this is my silly little idea for a villain agent 8, i have been talking to @flamingskull28 about it and he even gave me a couple of idea's for the au so major thanks to him)[also thanks to @lbodraws for some inspiration and @joltthewolf for making a v8 edit)

During the fight with smollusk, smollusk in an effort to turn the tides of battle aims for an weakened agent 4, which ends of killing her. .This sends agent 8 into a frenzy which leads to her killing smollusk in a fit of grief.

After escaping the memverse agent 8 locks herself away as she is unable to comprehend four's death. Pearl and Marina try to reach out to agent 8 but 8 kept pushing them away. Pearl and Marina feel like failures of parents after everything is over.

Marina and pearl are the ones who have to deliver the bad news to the NSS, all of them are distraught but this news hits marie the hardest alongside eight, as marie always viewed four as their child . However while marie accepted and grieved fours death, agent 8 was unable to process it. Eight could not accept four's death and just kept denying and denying. Agent 8 took an orange inkling plushie four gave her and began talking to it. She talked to it like agent 4 and held it constantly with her making her crazy and further denying fours death.

Until she had an epiphany, the memverse had the power to mess with souls, eight began to wonder what else the memverse could do.

This line of thinking brought her to wonder if she could use the memverse to bring back agent 4. She brought this idea up to marina however she told eight that she believed eight should accept four's death and to try to move on, unsure if resurrection could even work. This caused eight to go behind marinas back to try and execute her plan. 8 begins to study souls in hopes of finding a way to bring four back. This causes damage to the souls she's studying and makes marina get involved. Eight falling into madness didn't care, all she cared about was getting four back.

Eight brainwashed marina to get her out of the way and to get her help. 8 also blamed marina for fours death for creating the memverse and smollusk in the first place. Parallel cannon in this au is eights first attempt to bring four back. However instead of resurrecting agent 4, it made a clone of her. PC feels useless and rejected as their sole purpose was tobe a lover and the person they were supposed to love rejected them.

Marina wasn't the only person to get brainwashed. agent 8 was still angry and wanted someone to take their anger out on so she turn to shiver.

shortly before the events of splat 2 agent 4 and shiver were at their worst mentally. they were both 14 and dealing with a lot and not dealing with it well. so when they both met they jumped into a relationship without thinking.

They both had attachment and abandonment issues. So when the other partner would spend too much time away with friends or even a day away from the other, the partner "left behind" would get very upset, usually resulting in an argument. they both did this as they were co-dependent on each other.

it was only after a really bad argument did agent 4 leave. It left shiver feeling really guilty as she did love four and still had feelings for her.

so when she saw agent 4 during splat 3 she wanted to get back with her. But she saw agent 8 as a cheap copy of her and always tried to start drama with her.

so agent 8 brainwashed shiver as a form a revenge for her past actions( even though her and agent 4 were equally bad back then) and basically turned her into a second parallel cannon and was assigned to guard marina while the real PC was made to guard the lower floors.

Eight's attempts to bring four back is causing four pain in the afterlife. Four even temporarily contacts eight to tell her to stop because shes hurting her. However eight does not listen deciding four doesn't know what's good for her.

(v8 design made by @joltthewolf)

(new design i made with picrew)

Eight eventually discovers a way to bring four back. In order to bring a person back it requires hundreds of souls to be sacrificed in order to bring a person back. This ritual is very painful for the person being brought back.

It ends up being marie who has to climb the tower to take down eight as see can relate to being hit very hard by fours death. she is accompanied by callie drone.

Things are mostly the same but some things are different. Mainly PC and the finale boss.

Marie would finding PC in a state of sadness. They still try to fight but they are clearly in pain. Marie decides to take PC with her and PC opens up to Marie about how they feel, they feel rejected and alone. They feel useless and afraid and it breaks Marie's heart since four had similar feelings before they died.

Marie and PC's relationship to be similar to Pearl and steven's earlier relationship, even having a "WHY WON'T YOU LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU ROSE?!" type moment. PC has a journey of self-discovery while Marie learns that PC is their own person and more than just a clone.

agent 8 's fight would be a mix of soul of sectonia and order.(including a phase where 8's head pops off) agent 8 would start out small and the first phases would be hard but manageable. But when she turns big mode you are going to have start praying as you will have to deal with brutal attacks and a difficult envoirment.

There are 3 possible endings for this au

Good ending: marie takes 8 down and drags her our of the memverse. Eight ends up getting help to process four's death. fairly simple.

Resurrected good ending: eight is successful in bringing four back but is still taken down. four is mortified by what her lover has done. hundreds of people are now souless and she was dead and brought back. four breaks up with eight which breaks her even more(she does get better)

Resurrected bad ending: eight brings back four and kicks the other agent's out of the memverse. She creates and ai to wipe her and fours memories every couple of years and to create adventures for her and four to enjoy. She and four go on adventures for a while unaware of everything that happened. until the NSS enter the memverse and stop the temporarily ai and bring back four and eights memories. 8 and 4 are overwhelmed by the past. Eight is horrified by what shes done while four is trying to comprehend the fact they died and came back to life. they have the option to either go to the real world or continue living the lie

[thesleepyfable]

~ SWTD: Still Here AU Season 2 Part 6: ~

I Don't Want to Say Goodbye:

Tomorrow, a road trip. Today, a couple of conversations.

TW: Blood

Part 7:

'Mr. Cunningham? You have a caller who says it's a personal matter.'

'Put them through, Elizabeth. Thank you.' It wasn't a personal call because instead of his son or daughter, Bernard was met with an all too familiar voice he hoped to never hear again.

'Alright, Bernard?' The chairman jolted in his seat, throwing his phone in the air and letting it land on the mahogany desk while his skin turned white. Rennick. 'Listen, we need to borrow those two trucks again.' No response. 'Hello? Bernard? Hello?'

Slowly, Bernard pressed the phone to his ear. 'What?'

'There's been a change of plan, and we need the trucks.'

'Why?!'

'I just told you why. Look, I can give an address for you to bring the trucks, but we need them today. The sooner, the better.'

'You have some fucking nerve, David,' Bernard hissed through gritted teeth. 'I thought I told you that I never want to see you again.'

'Technically, you're not.'

'If you think,' Bernard's temper began to rise. He shoulders tenses, face turned red, and his knuckles turned white by how hard he gripped the phone. 'I'm going to give you anything after you embarrassed me? You can take this phone and stick it where the sun doesn't-'

'He'll be sending them in an hour,' Rennick mused, passing the phone for Caz, who to put back on the receiver.

'Good. We can get going in the morning at this rate.' It'll take several hours for the trucks to arrive, and Addair was willing to wait till morning. Caz sat on the step and had to ask. 'You don't like Cunningham much?'

'Much is putting it lightly, Cameron, but yes, I don't like him.'

'And why's that?'

'Because he fucked me over. Promised me a seat at the table after his pa died, but instead he told me to go and build the Beria with my own money.'

'Fuckin' Hell, mate, I'm sorry.'

'It's fine,' but there was a tone of exhaustion in Rennick's voice. He had that distant look in his eye. 'He gave me some funding, but I still had to empty my pockets.'

'Did he explain why?'

'No.'

'Then why did you bother staying?'

'Because the Beria was mine. For all its faults, I finally felt like I had a seat, but I was never proud of it.' Caz gave Rennick a pat on where he imagined his shoulder would have been. Rennick smiled and quickly found this was the right time to change the subject. 'So, about the police.'

'Ah, fuck.'

'Mind telling me why you ran?' He knew, of course. Rennick heard everything back on the rig, but he wanted more details. It was only fair. Caz rolled his eyes and let out all the air from his lungs. He also knew that Rennick heard everything. Guess they were both nosey bastards.

'He slagged off Suze.'

'Oh, I would say you were completely justified then,' and Rennick was being very honest with that statement. 'Why the fuck would he do that?'

'Because Billy was jealous. He was always jealous of me, but I dunno why. Well, actually it's because I have Suze, but he's the one with a silver spoon in his mouth who could piss away money on meaningless shit and never know what it's like to go hungry or work extra to pay a bill.' Rennick listened and watched Caz, who now had a distant look in his eye, and kept his head low. He kicked at the snow on the stairs and twiddled his thumbs, which began to shake.

'One day, he just took it too far. Looking back, he clearly wanted a reaction, and he got it, but I should have been the bigger man and walked away.' A flash of blood dripping from the bar crossed his mind. 'I just...' Caz felt the chunk of Billy's hair in his hands. 'Wanted him to shut up.'

With a splat, before anyone could talk, a snowball pelted Rennick in his eye. 'What the-?' His pitch was high, making Caz snicker and Maidie laugh. But, the poor girl had been listening again. Caz knew that, and she was just doing this to cause a distraction. He could see the fake happiness in her eyes, unlike Rennick, who began to gather up the snow in a tendril. 'You're a smart one, aren't ya?' A little too much snow in a tendril. Maidie's face dropped, and she began to run. 'Get back here, you little bug!' Something, he called his son.

Caz watched Rennick chase his daughter, toss the snowball, purposely missing her, and hitting Trots in the back of the head. Maidie kept running as Rennick chased her, kicking up the snow under his tendrils. Another snowball landed on his cheek. Cait was here to rescue her sister and join in the fun. Three more snowballs from Roy, Suze, and Jack. Caz watched until he caught Addair sitting alone by the barn. It seemed to draw in those knee-deep in thought. Seems it was his turn to comfort someone.

'Hey.'

'McLeary,' Addair mumbled. He was looking through the photo album. The pair stood awkwardly in silence. Caz found himself staring at the photographs. They told a story of Addair and Jennifer. All in black and white. From holidays to simple captures of the everyday. Jennifer making dinner, or Addair hanging up a new pair of curtains. When the colour came in, so did the wedding photographs and the children. Tommy's school photo stood out the most. Caz sighed.

'I saw Tommy in my head.' Addair turned with a naturally confused look. 'It wasn't a dream, but I saw what happened that day, or what I guess you thought happened that day.'

'That makes no fucking sense, McLeary.'

'I still saw it, though, and I'm sorry, Addair. I really am.'

'I just keep thinking about what happened,' Addair said after a pause. 'Seeing the blood in his hair. Hearing the bike collide with the car. Seeing-'

'Seeing him order sweets for his brothers?'

'Y-Yeah. It's what Jennifer told me over the phone.' Addair's eyes lingered back to the photos. It was a New Years one, with Jennifer holding sparklers with Tommy and George. 'I don't want to say goodbye.'

Caz didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. So, he knelt down and just stayed with him, as they watched the children getting their revenge on Rennick, who was trying to hide his face from the warfare of snowballs. Unlucky for him as Muir dropped one right onto his head, leaving it completely covered, and like a cat, Rennick jumped and took off across the field. He was going to be running for a while...

[aballadforbarbatos]

mc falls hard and fast

specifically, out of the sky.

you were looking for a gift for mammon, originally. something sparkly and shiny- he seemed down in the dumps, last time you saw him

and since you’re back in the human world for an undisclosed amount of time, this is the best time to go searching for a surprise gift!!

thinking back on it now, this whole set up was a bit suspicious… maybe you should be a little less one track minded next time?

i mean, saying the item’s worth is well over ten thousand dollars and then selling it for only $200? what were you thinking?

and it only got worse! they apparently had it hidden in a secret place where you needed to take a helicopter, and they needed your driver’s license and passport? MC, what is WRONG with you?

well, they told you they were going to steal your identity, taken your documents, and pushed you out of the helicopter. they’ll probably be back later to collect your body.

so here you are. falling out of the sky.

you screamed when you first got shoved, sure, but you can’t keep doing that or else you’ll go splat on the ground and the entirety of devildom might break down and also some shady guys will steal your identity.

and you’ve done a lot to have this identity, so that definitely can’t happen

pacts! you can get a demon to come rescue you!

as soon as the idea pops into your head, you know exactly which demon you want, even before you see his pact mark on the back of your hand, the same hand that you always, always use to pull out your wallet.

but, uh… you’ve never actually used the pact from so far away. will it even work if you order him from here, now?

you reach into your pocket for your D.D.D.

with the needy demon boys you’ve collected, you can barely go anywhere without it

you tap his name…

and wait while the phone rings??

meanwhile, in devildom, the demons are having a student council meeting, completely unaware that you are currently hurtling towards the ground, and your death, at an incredibly fast pace.

mammon’s phone rings.

he tries to ignore it and play it cool, but it’s so obvious it’s him

“mammon. what have i told you about keeping your D.D.D. on silent.” mammon does not look at lucifer and instead decides to investigate the table until he remembers-

“no, wait! i did put it on silent, which means-”

which means that the caller has to be you, because he fiddled with his settings so that you were the only one that could reach him while his D.D.D. was off.

he digs his hand into his pocket and pulls it out, eagerly answering your call and putting it close to his ear

…and then immediately holding it at arm’s length as you shout into the receiver, trying to be louder than the wind

“MAMMON! MAMMON OH MY GOD, MAMMON!”

“uhh…”

he genuinely has no idea what to say. what’s going on in the background? why’s it so loud? and it’s nice hearing you say his name, don’t get it wrong, but you sound panicky and he’s not sure why you’re saying it so often.

“mammon, it’s time for you to take responsibility for your words, okay?!”

“aha, words? MC, what words are you talking about? i haven’t done anything super bad or anything!”

“mammon…” your voice gets quieter and shaky so he gingerly puts his ear against the receiver. “mammon, i don’t want to die, okay?”

his eyes widen. if lucifer’s saying anything to him now, it doesn’t matter. mammon has totally drowned it out, listening to what you have to say.

“what do you want me to do?”

“mammon, come here.”

poof! he appears next to you

except you’re falling through air

so he’s only next to you for a split second

and he’s in his student uniform too so he’s falling as well

just a human and their demon, falling to their certain doom

“mc, what the fuck?!”

that’s what you think he says. you’re not sure. the wind has carried his words away

you look up, away from the ground, and at the scenery beyond. at the very least, if mammon doesn’t get it together soon, this is a pretty place to die.

mammon gets it together.

your life didn't flash before your eyes- did that mean that your brain knew that mammon would catch you?

well, of course it would think so. it’s not like he’s ever let you down before.

he could’ve saved you a little NICER, though?

seriously, slamming into your body from the side? what if he broke a rib?!

plus he accidentally crashed into a haystack, so now you’re sitting there pulling straw out of your hair, adrenaline still pulsing through your veins

okokok hold on, you’re gonna hurl

mammon’s head pops up just as you finish, “okay, gross.”

you laugh. and laugh. it feels so good to be alive! a shame about your stolen documents, but you can do something about that later

“um, why did you call me? lucifer probably would’ve been faster…”

you look at mammon with a warm smile

“mammon, aren’t you my first? didn’t you say that if you couldn’t rescue me, then i should just die? why would i want to be saved by anyone other than you?”

your D.D.D. buzzes

it’s a text

no wait, it’s two

three?

eight??

they’re also all asking you if you know what happened to mammon and if you could get him to come back to the student council

you glance at your saviour, covered in hay, now sporting a light blush

“lol” is all you send back

the devildom lives another day

[peppered-moths]

imagine you were born hungry. imagine you were born with a hole in your gut that can never be filled, that is always writhing.

you are a mirror. you were born a mirror, surrounded by mirrors. the first thing you ever know is that you are not human. the second thing is that you are not him. you are a reflection, with his face and his voice and the people who loved him. you can mimic him, pretend so well that you are not anything else, but you cannot escape the aching hunger in your stomach, in your mouth.

he cared for the other one, the you-but-not-you. you hear that you died in his arms once. you don't know how to feel about that; you don't know him, don't care (because you're not him even though you want).

nevertheless, you are drawn to him. maybe it's the way he looks at you, guilty and frustrated and awe-struck all at once, a complicated mixture of feelings that has you shying away and inching closer, bit by bit. you decide you like the way he looks when he's happy, though you'd never say it to his face.

that's probably why you don't say anything, when the world twists, soft graphite and watercolors. because you like seeing him happy.

this world is good enough. it doesn't matter if it isn't real, it can be good enough. you can be alive. he can love you like he loved him be happier here, without the pressure, without the fear. isn't that good? why can't it be good enough for him?

you know you don't matter to him, not like the real you. you know that when he looks at your face, all he sees is the other one. he doesn't understand. it's not fair. it's not fair. you want something for yourself for once.

he says he'd die, if that's what you wanted. standing on the precipice. his heels slip over the edge, hanging in space. you want. you do not want. you want, but not like this. you imagine his body below the city lights, arranged like he's sleeping, a halo of red seeping into his hair. you wonder what forever looks like with him, what it might look like without him. he would die for you. you have never been so afraid of that.

he pulls you over the edge, hands entangled.

you are the only one who can stop this. you are the only one who can save him.

(part of you doesn't want to. part of you is selfish, and aching, and hungry.)

(what would he have done?)

you catch him. save his life. it feels like the worst thing in the world. you hate yourself, just a little bit, for not wanting it. the hunger coils in your stomach.

you leave for a while (because of the severance). you don't want to talk about it. the far shore has waves that beat endlessly against the sand, and you fell apart and shivered back together- and you don't want to talk about it.

you tell him to take you somewhere. anywhere. somewhere nice.

(a nice place to die, you think. you're too much of a coward, too much of a monster, to say it.)

it's beautiful, and he's smiling, and there's a gaping emptiness in your gut. you feel yourself shaking apart, skin to bones.

you tell him you are hungry, the words ripped from your throat like the awful truth they are. and he just looks at you, the way he always does.

and then he kills for you. not human, not yet (you wonder if he would), but it still screams as it dies.

he holds the heart in his hands. you are hungry. from here, it just looks like meat. it drips, plip-plop-plip, black blood splatting on tile. you are hungry. he offers it to you.

(despite everything, you sort of want to be human. despite everything, you sort of want to be dead.)

you close your teeth around his fingers instead. like a feral dog. like somebody who is not (has never been) human. his blood is red, and you are terribly, painfully hungry.

you tell him you are a lost cause, a monster with a pretty face and nothing behind it. that he should give up, should leave you alone, should let you die (should kill you himself, really).

he cries, salty and miserable, shoulders shaking. he cries. for you. because of you. all you can do is stare.

the heart drips on the floor between you. you are hungry.

(he does not look like an angel, or an icarus, or a savior. he looks like a fourteen year old boy in love with a monster.)

you have always been selfish.

you have always been hungry.

[im-not-batman]

For the ask WIP game

Spideypool falling please 😊

Oh I LOVE this one!

It's a 5+1 of spideypool falling for eachother and then Falling For Eachother. Featuring Dadpool because I'm a big fan of his work (Ellie).

"It really creeps me out when you do that, Webs." Wade said, sinking deeper into Peter's beat-up couch and kicking his fluffy-sock-clad feet up onto the other half of it that Peter was perched above. "I like sitting up here, sends all the blood to my brain so that I can beat you quicker," Peter reasoned and as if on queue the tinny TV speaker announced yet another victory. "You're such an asshole, Baby Boy," Wade smirked up at him, sounding more proud than annoyed. He threw a couple of M&Ms up for Peter to catch in his mouth, "do the other heros know how much of an asshole their comrade is?" Around his mouthful of chocolate and peanuts, he grinned, "I save all my worst bits for you, Wade." It was true too. He always felt like he needed to pose and posture around his fellow superheroes. Even though he'd come into his own as Spider-man over the last ten years, he still yearned for their approval and strived for their respect. Around Wade though, there was no need to pretend he was any better than he actually was. He didnt feel the need to constantly be on his best behaviour. Peter let his sass and sarcasm, disdain and irritation, good moods, bad moods and everything inbetween run rampant around Deadpool. And he never felt like he was being judged or evaluated. Just admired. Ecouraged even. "I'm touched," he said, throwing up another handful of M&Ms. This time Peter didn't react quick enough, lost in thought, and missed them.

Instead Wade caught the chocolates in his own mouth. Which shouldn't have been a thing but Peter's brain was making it a thing. He couldn't figure out if it was the ease with which he caught them – Peter's attraction to competency rearing it's ugly head – or the fact that the M&Ms were intended for his mouth and were now in Deadpool's. Either way, Peter's brain was doing some sort of horny gymnastics to rationalise it as tonsil tennis by-proxy. He watched Wade's throat bob as he swallowed. Peter's concentration was decidedly broken. He slipped. Usually that wouldn't be an issue; usually he'd have fallen from a much greater height and thus had more time to catch himself. But he was hanging from the ceiling this time. Granted, it was a relatively high ceiling, but not high enough. He let out an indecipherable jumble of a scream/shout/warning and Wade managed to dive out of the crash zone in time to not be knocked out by a 170 pound moron. When Peter didn't feel the heavy, throbbing pain of head trauma, he managed to gather his wits enough to realise that his head hadn't made contact with anything.

After another moment, he realised that Wade had seemingly managed to get his hand between Peter's skull and the floor. He still found himself uncomfortably contorted - half on the couch, half off, in a sort of human pretzel situation - but Wade had reacted in enough time to keep his head from cracking against the ground. And he was still holding him that way.

Peter's brain stopped working again. "Sorry," Wade said, trying to right the hero so that he was no longer lying at a downward 45 degree angle with legs akimbo, "Dad reflexes."

Peter wanted to scream. "You're apologising for saving me from a concussion?" Peter attempted to tease but it fell flat when he saw Wade's face, "Are you okay?" He let out a choked laugh, "Am I okay?" He asked incredulously, "you just fell eight feet." "And yet you're the one looking a bit loopy," Peter half laughed but wasn't able to keep the worry from seeping into his tone. "You scared the shit outta me, thought you were gonna go splat!" Deadpool justified. "From that height? Child's play. If I'd splatted, I'd have deserved it." It was a joke but Wade didn't seem to find it funny. "You should look after yourself better, Petey," he looked like he realised he was being too serious then, and his demeanor visibly shifted, "you don't regenerate, so you gotta look after that sinfully gorgeous meat suit of yours."

Ty ty for the ask! I really wanna get back into writing these two, I love them so much 🥲

Send me an ask with which of my WIPs from This Post you wanna hear about!

[mr-urple]

I wrote this instead of paying attention in class today

@atomic-rattz @rawcherrycake @splatting-stampede

(This is kinda lazy/bad so mb gang 😭🙏)

—

“...I’m fine.” 

DNA growled dangerously, glowering at the other three turtles in the room. His lips were curled up into a snarl and he was quite visibly annoyed. “I can take care of myself.”

Cyclone quickly interjected, her tail swishing in irritation. “DeeDee, it doesn’t matter if you can ‘take care of yourself’, you’re not in the best physical state and you need to rest. You don’t have to do this. Just lay the fuck back down and let us handle it.”

D growled, his annoyance morphing into frustration. “Let you guys ‘handle’ it?? Last time I did that, it ended catastrophically! I can’t have that happening again. I’ll do it myself, because I’m OKAY and you guys SERIOUSLY need to STOP WORRYING ABOUT ME-”

“But you could die!!” Gal interrupted, his forehead knit in worry. “It’s too dangerous… I swear we’ll be more careful this time! Please, just listen to us and let yourself recover.”

Cy nodded. “Right. It’s not safe for you to handle that sort of hazardous equipment in your current state. You really just need to lay your ass down and let us take care of this.”

“Jesus Christ- GUYS.” 

D groaned, dragging his hands down his face. He was completely over this debate. “PUH-LEASE. Stop making this sound like a life threatening situation. IT’S JUST THE GODDAMN FLU.”

“And flus can be lethal!!” Gal and Cy retorted in unison. “It said so on Wikipedia!!” Gal added unhelpfully, though Cy once again nodded in agreement.

D massaged his temples, exasperated. “I think this stupid flu isn’t as lethal as you dumbasses setting the kitchen on fire.” He said flatly.

“That was only one time…” Cy muttered sourly. “It wasn’t our fault our stove is stronger than the one the recipe used…”

“Besides, you know I can cook decently!” Gal crossed his arms, pouting slightly. “Sure, we nearly burned down the whole place last time you got sick, but like! That was just an accident!! It won’t happen again!”

D let out another groan. He cast a glance at Mari, who was as silent as ever but looked just as done with this conversation as he was. “Yo. Mars.” He called, causing the indigo-clad turtle to perk up slightly. “Do you think I should let these two imbeciles cook dinner again.”

Mari immediately shook their head no, cringing at the memory of the pink and orange turtles’ last attempt at making a meal. Sure, it had gone smoothly for the most part, but the miscalculation of the stove’s strength and an accidental topple of kitchen utensils gave way to catastrophe and destruction. Never again.

D looked pointedly at Cy and Gal, who were both averting their gazes guiltily. “The child has given their input.” D announced, ignoring Mari’s piercing glare at being called a child. “I’m the one who’s cooking tonig- cOUGH COUGH CCKRKJDLSKLSODOKSKADK OUGH GOD-”

“D!!” The three terrapins immediately rushed to D’s side, who started coughing uncontrollably and hacking up mucus. The flu was NOT treating him nicely.

It took a moment for the coughs to die down, but eventually the mutant caspian turtle got ahold of himself. He leaned back on the bedroom wall and sighed, gritting his teeth in visible irritation.

“...While I’m perfectly capable of preparing a meal, I don’t think I wanna get you guys sick.” He finally said after a few minutes. “So I think me taking charge of the cooking is also not optimal.”

Cy sighed. “Alright. Well if you don’t want us to cook and you aren’t gonna cook either, the fuck are we supposed to do??”

Mari raised a hand and the other three turned to face the youngest. They had their phone in their hand and the screen shined bright with a website saying they ordered a meal for four online.

“...Oh.” The older turtles said dumbly. They all got so used to home cooking that ordering food had escaped them as a viable option.

“Crisis averted, I guess??” Gal grinned awkwardly, reaching over to give Mari an affectionate noogie. “Thanks kid.”

Mari only huffed, rolling their eyes and pulling up Subway Surfers on their phone. How they got stuck with absolute idiots, they did not know. But hey!! They were going to eat Chinese takeout soon so everything was okay, they supposed.

—

THIS IS SO DUMB IM SORRY KFKAJJDJQKD