#little squares with the crusts cut off

[v-as-in-victor]

Sometimes I see posts about “you don’t want to be rich you just want to live freely and comfortably”

And like

sure

But I also want to be able to pay someone a living wage to be my sandwich-valet. On call and stocked with groceries to rustle up a flock of tempting little sandwiches at any time.

I have big dreams, ok?

[bahrtofane]

jude helping you in the kitchen because you’re hosting his family for dinner and youre running around at 100 miles an hour trying to find that damn stick of butter, it was just in your hand come onn

all while jude is having the time of his life taking his time gingerly cutting potatoes into neat little squares (roasted potatoes are a must)

"am i doing good?" he pipes up, already done with 3 Potatoes, youre so proud of him

you scramble over to him with a pound of meat in your hand, "yes love youre doing great."

he beams, wiggling his shoulders happily, "what do i do with them?"

you set down the meat on the counter while grabbing what you can from the spice cabinet, "the potatoes? just put them into a big bowl and ill worry about them."

he hums, going to get said big bowl while you run back to the fridge. you need asparagus how could you forget!

he manages to get the squares off the cutting board and into the bowl without much hassle, and you’ve started getting your pans out for the meat and asparagus. the squash is in the oven all ready, you need to make room for your lamb when its time though, desert also needs to get started, oh your mini quiches you completely forgot.

you slide back over to the fridge, the dough you made this morning, grabbing it and some flour. the lamb can wait while you get the crusts in the oven.

by the time jude looks back over at you, your covered in flour.

he snorts, "looks like you lost a fight to a baker."

"very funny jude, get the asparagus in the pan please and keep an eye on the squash for me while i finish getting the dough ready."

he puts the cutting board to the side, wiping his hands on a paper towel "yes ma'am."

you feel like gordan ramsey, barking our orders and running around with enough stress to last a life time. and you tell people you love cooking. pfft. sure. poor jude only follows you, doing what you ask. hes even worm a silly apron with big red words "kiss the chef" plastered on them. he thought it was the funniest thing ever. it was pretty funny you admit.

you spend too much time balling up little wads of aluminum foil for the crusts but jude keeps everything else in order, and before you know it in they go, out the squash comes, and you get started on the meat.

you love lamb, you hate the amount of pans and pots it takes though. first you sear, then you transfer to the oven while you sear off vegetables in the same pot, in they go with the lamb, pull them out, blend them with left of lamb juice at the bottom of the pan, boom you have a little gravy.

jude gasps and for a moment you think he'd burned himself, but he turns around with a stick of butter in his hand.

you light up, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "i love you," taking the butter and adding it to the asparagus.

somehow, someway, all your courses get done just on time, the deserts in the fridge, jude cleaning up the last of the kitchen while you get changed.

you come back down to greet the family, plating their food and basking in the praises they sing after every bite.

you love cooking !

[piss-pumpkin]

🏖️ A beach episode 🌊

Older!Dipper pines x reader, Douce amere chapter 23 ~4.0k words Masterlist Prev

The state of your head meant you couldn’t swim much. Getting water on it, especially dirty water, like that of the Gravity Falls lake was a bad idea. Having the cut contaminated or infected was a big no-no. Even with it healing well, there was still a somewhat open wound under your bandaid, and the cover was far from water proof. That being said, you also weren’t a bitch. 

You just couldn’t let the water touch your head. Seemed easy enough. 

Your flip flop broke on the way to the shore, so Dipper gave you a piggy back ride, and you kicked your other sandal at Mabel, who walked ahead of you. She didn’t dodge, and it hit her in the back. The Grunkles were grabbing things from the trunk: floaties, a chair for Stan, some weird invention of Fords that would do… something to the water. 

Dipper let you down on the dock, where you wouldn’t get sand stuck on your feet. 

The dock was worn down from years of splashing and walking, and you’d been told it was the place where Mabel got her first kiss. And with a merman Dipper was not fond of. That was a fun bit of mythology. 

The lake wasn’t exactly crowded, but it was on the busy side. You couldn’t be too surprised considering the good weather. On the beach, the cops, Blubs and Durland were laying in towels and giggling to themselves over magazines you couldn’t make out from the dock. A couple of Wendy’s brothers were on the water fishing. Mcguckets son was lecturing some teenager sternly.

Stan had used the car to inflate a couple floats. He was walking towards the three of you, tube in hand, a  nice one too. It had a headrest, and netting in the bottom to sit on.

“Oh my god, look at that!�� Mabel said, pointing into the water. 

You looked. The lake water was a little dirty, tinted greenish from some underwater plants growing off the dock legs.

“Um, what?” Dipper asked, leaning over the edge of the dock. You fought the urge to push him in, he hadn’t wronged you in a while, probably didn’t deserve it.

”Yeah, I don’t see anything, what are we looking at?” You asked, studying the lake. You didn’t even see any fish.

Mabel looked up at the both of you, jaw hung open. She pointed accusingly at the small waves. “You guys seriously didn’t see that?” She asked, brow raised. “It was like- I fucking huge fish or something!” 

You pursed your lips, glancing back at the water. It seemed all clear. “Uhhh,” you looked at Dipper, who had a matching look of apprehension, with a little curiosity. “Yeah, I didn’t see anything,” you admitted.

Dipper put his hand up like he was in a classroom, “I also didn’t see-“

“Hey kids, catch,” Stan called, hurling the tube like a frisbee. 

You turned around to look at the shore where he came from. “Huh-“ the tube hit you square in the face. The impact of the rubber got your straight in the forehead. For a soft material, it sure did hit hard when you had stitches in your face. “Fuck!”

You heard Stan suck a breath in through his teeth, “Sorry, my bad,” he said. 

Dippers jaw was hanging open as he looked at Stan, and Stan shot a thumbs up with a guilty smile and shuffled away. 

Mabel swooped I’m in front of you to look at your head. “Bandaids still on,” she said, examining the edges. She picked up the tube Stan threw, and handed it to you. “So your still alive, that’s good!”

You grimaced. At least you could tell your head was getting better, because it didn’t stay bad for long. You blinked a few times, and the pain was nearly gone. “Yippee,” you said dryly.

                                         …

Dipper and Mabel could swim, and you could… hangout. When they went in the water, you lounged in the tube.

Mabel actually had one too. She swam to shore to grab a float shaped like a pizza slice. She flopped up on it, and laid on her back, saying she was trying to get tan.  Her head was buried face down in the crust.

You might’ve rested your sunglasses on your forehead if not for the bandage. Instead, they were over your eyes as you lounged on the tube, and you hoped to god that your sunscreen would be enough to avoid a sunglasses tan line. 

It was surprising how good a job you were doing keeping the water off your face. The headrest of your float was completely dry. 

The twins traded the pizza slice around. Dipper ended up sitting on it, holding onto the side of your tube so he didn’t drift away. The tube was much higher in the water then Dippers float, so for today you were taller than him. Felt good. 

Mabel insisted on diving for pearls. You and Dipper ended up slowly drifting away from her spot by the docks, carried by the weak waves. You caught a glimpse her feet above the surface before she vanished under the water for another dive. 

You leaned over to Dipper, “I feel like we should be betting on if she finds anything, you know?”

He leaned on the tube, and you smiled seeing up close how you were a good head and a half taller than him like this. “She totally won’t, right?” He said, half as a question. 

You shrugged, “I don’t know.” She came up for air again, and took her goggles off to get some water out of them. When she saw the two of you facing her, she waved enthusiastically before putting them on again and diving. “I would say no, but it’s Gravity Falls, you can never know for sure,” you grinned. 

Dipper snickered. “Okay, if she finds a pearl, it’ll be super weird,” he said, talking with his hands as he tried to draw an elaborate picture in the air. 

“Or better yet,” you added, “not even a pearl. She finds some weird cursed gem or artifact.”

He tapped at the rubber of the float. “Okay, I like your thinking,” he said, “but she’s so shallow, like what, did some dude just drop some weird magic thing off the dock?”

You waved your hand in dismissal as you snickered. “Well maybe, like a wizard or something was walking one night and just keeps shit in his pockets,” you said, trying to think. Thinking was hard through. “Or it’s just washing up from the tide.”

Dipper snorted, “washing up from where? This is not a big lake.”

You winced, swishing your cheeks around your mouth. “Uhhh,” you started. 

Before you could come up with something, Dipper gasped. “Wait no- no you’re right,” he said quickly, looking over at the island in the other side of the lake. “I, uh- remembered. There is very much weird shit in here.” 

You pursed your lips, “Okay, well now I’m worried.” The best you could think of was how Mabel’s merman boyfriend somehow ended up in the ocean from here, so it clearly connected somewhere. That or you could make up some underwater ancient city. 

Dipper glanced around, then pointed at the island on the far side. “I’m like, eighty percent sure that island is alive, and it’s a giant floating head,” he whispered. “But we’re fine, we’re… so far over here.”

”Um,” you said, trying to think about that. You had nothing though. Your head was completely empty. You’d totally been on that island before. 

In very convenient timing, you caught a dark glimmer under the water under you. Like… a big fish. But it didn’t look right in the way it moved. “Dipper,” you said sternly, pointing to the water. 

He hummed, looking first at you, then following your finger. Luckily, it was still in a sight. A big, maybe human sized, dark shadow swimming… towards the dock. You could tell Dipper saw it, because his face first lit up with excitement, then fell. Mabel had just come up for air. 

You and Dipper looked at each other, then back at Mabel. The dark shadow had disappeared in her direction. “Dude,” you said.

”Yep,” he affirmed quickly. 

You turned, and started to paddle your tube back over to the dock. Dipper looked like he was about to do the same. You poked at his arm, “you can just swim over, man,” you said. 

He glanced at Mabel, then at the pizza slice. “Yeah, okay,” he said, rolling back into the water.

As he started to swim away, Mabel raised her hand above the water, and you couldn’t hear what she was saying. It looked like she was holding something to show. Maybe a pearl. 

In a blink though, she was almost under. Your eyes widened as her head, all but the top of her hair sunk. Then she was back with a gasp, thrashing.

You sat right up, pointing, “Holy fuck!” You couldn’t tell if Dipper saw, but he definitely heard. He looked back at you for a moment. “Go get her!” you yelled, frantically trying to paddle over. How important was your head? Should you just jump in?

You worried faded quickly though, as Dipper picked up the pace swimming to the dock. He’d get there far faster than you could anyway, now. So you paddled as best you could. 

Mabel disappeared under, and Dipper was close enough to dive after her. And for a good moment, it was oddly quiet. Most of what you heard was your own paddling. You swallowed hard. Ford was far off on the shore doing something with the water. Stan was asleep on his chair. The rest of the people on the lake didn’t seem to see anything. It was just you, the twins, and some random sea monster. Or… lake monster.

By the time you got close, they were still under. You tapped against the tube. You pulled your feet out of the water, like touching it would get you pulled down too. Should you just go? You stood up, and peered over into the waves.

Just then, you heard the surface break behind you, and gasps for air. You whipped around, nearly falling off as you did. Your knees hit the netting in the tube as you crashed down. “Guys?” You asked, paddling over to them. 

Dipper was holding Mabel, who looked more shaken up, and swimming towards you. You offered a hand, and he made Mabel take it first. Only sliding around a little bit, you managed to help haul her into the tube beside you. 

Next was Dipper. Three people in one tube was not great, but it beat touching the water. You caught a glimpse of the shadow fish under you just as Dipper was climbing on. You held the pizza slice float like a weapon to bat it away if it tried anything. It didn’t. 

Dipper and Mabel were panting, and Dippers eyes were locked on the water. 

“Guys, what happened?” You asked, starting to paddle to the dock. If you could climb up onto it, you wouldn’t have to be on the water so long. Dipper must have had the same idea, because he started helping. 

But he also kept looking back at the water. The fish was gone, though. He hummed lowly, “there was-“

”-That bitch had arms!” Mabel shouted, staring at her hands. They were shaking a little. “And they were fucking gross!” 

You grimaced. Fish with arms. Alright. You got to the dock, and Mabel was talking about the fish with arms, and black hollow eyes, according to her. The dock wasn’t too high off the water. With a boost at the feet, you and Dip got Mabel up first, then you, then you both helped to pull him up. You had his hands, so he brought the floats up one with his leg, and one with his teeth. 

You all sat on the dock a moment, catching your breath. You looked around. Nobody seemed to notice the commotion, somehow. 

“Guys!” Mabel shouted, pointing at the water.

You rushed over to the edge to see. The big fish was moving towards the shore, and closer to the surface. You could see the… arms.. flowing at its sides more clearly now that Mabel pointed them out. 

You scanned the beach. Nobody was too near the water except… Ford, kneeling by the waterline with a little machine. You sucked a breath in through your teeth, “God, Fuck.”

The fish moved pretty fast. The three of you stood up, and started to run.

Running felt weird on the head. You slowed to a jog while the others sped to Ford. 

The fish got there first, though. Dipper and Mabel were calling his name, but Ford didn’t seem to be listening. He was staring at the water. The dark shadow was swirling where he knelt, and Ford seemed hypnotized. 

“Cathrine, you came!” He said giddily. His eyes were wide and enchanted as the fish emerges from the water. 

The twins slowed down, stopping to stare. You caught up to have with them. The fish, apparently named Cathrine, was disgusting. It… or maybe she- had arms that moved and sagged and hung like kelp, and were the same colour, too. She didn’t have fingers, instead just… leaves. Her hair was a wet lump of darker plant, cooled down her back. Her skin was also a murky green, and feathered with plants and dusted with sand.

Mabel was gaping, and pointed at the slimy kelp hands, “oh my god, that touched me,” she said meekly. 

“Great uncle Ford!” Dipper yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Get away from that, it’s dangerous!”

His warning were in vein, though. Ford finally looked over at the three of you on the docks, and just waved happily, “Hi Kids!” then went back to staring into Cathrines eyes. Or… actually you weren’t sure if it had eyes, you didn’t see its face. 

Dipper started speed walking to him again, and you and Mabel followed behind. He stopped suddenly, “wait, Cathrine?” He said, one hand moving to his chin. 

You and Mabel shared a glance, silently agreeing not to interrupt his thought process.

”Cathrine- ugh, where do I recognize that…” he grumbled, string between the wood planks of the dock into the water. He snapped his fingers, “oh my god, I’ve got it,” he said, looking at Ford again. “Great uncle Ford wrote in the journal, he used to date a siren names Cathrine, do you guys think…” he trailed off, and you all looked at the big fish again. 

Yeah, she could look like a Cathrine.

“Okay, so let’s kick her away from him, right?” You asked, eying Cathrine. 

They nodded. 

When Ford saw you all approaching again, he grinned even wider at you. He pointed the three of you out to Cathrine, who turned her head to look, and for the first time you saw she did have eyes. She had hollow, pure black eyes, and completely sunken in skin, worn down like when water blazes a trail into stone. Her cheeks could have been a river, and her wrinkles like streams. 

“Kids, come meet Cathy!” Ford called happily. How Stan was still asleep on the chair with a magazine over his face, you’d never understand. 

Dipper practically wheezed, “fucking Cathy?” He looked frantically between you and Mabel, then back to Ford. He shouted across the water again, “That thing tried to drown Mabel!”

Ford waved his hand, “she wouldn’t do that,” he said quietly, possibly forgetting that you were all across the dock from him.

That might’ve been the last straw. The three of you started running to the shore again to catch Ford before something unfortunate happened. You had to slow down for your head, but even in a jog the old planks of the dock hammered under your feet. 

“You’ll love her,” Ford declared happily, taking her slimy kelp hands in his own to hold lovingly. “I think we’re going to finally tie the knot!”

Mabel had to stop running to cough and sputter as she started to laugh. “Go on without me,” she wheezed, planting her hands on her knees to support herself.

You heard Dipper mumble under his breath at her, but he kept forward towards Ford. When your feet hit the sand and dirt off the ground, Dipper was already close. Mabel coughed behind you as she caught up.

Ford was entranced in Cathrines eyes, and she was subtly pulling him closer by the hands. Well, not that subtle, actually, if you could notice from across the beach. Subtle enough that Ford didn’t seem to pay any mind. “I can’t believe it,” he said dreamily. “After all these years, I found you again.”

 ”No fucking shot,” you said, turning to Mabel as the two of you rested. Damn your head. Dipper was the only one doing anything productive. 

Catherine pulled harder, and Ford started idly leaning more toward the water, until he was wading in on his knees to follow her direction. It was only when she smiled wide that you saw her mouth. Her lips blended well into her skin, almost unnoticeable until she opened her jaw, and you could see the rows upon rows of sharpened teeth. 

“Great uncle Ford, no!” Dipper said, as if he was scolding a dog. 

You and Mabel shared a glance, and decided rest time was over. You both tried to catch up with them. 

Just as Cathy tried to yank Ford into the water, Dipper practically tackled him, wrapping his arms around his torso and pulling him back. “Great uncle Ford, snap out of it!” He yelled, turning his head so he didn’t scream in Fords ear. 

“D-dipper, what are you doing?” Ford asked, with all the hurt in his tone of a kicked puppy. He fought back against Dipper, and was far stronger. 

Luckily, just as he broke free, and Dippers grasp broke, you and Mabel got there. She took his arms, pulling them out of Cathy’s grip, while you shoved Ford onto his side in the sand and held him down. Ford tried to thrash and resist, but Mabel kept a firmer grip than Dipper did. 

“Ford, you fuck,” you said, looking as Cathrines deranged smile curled into a teeth scowl. “Do we have to kill you? What’s going on?” 

“She’s the love of my life!” 

Dipper groaned, glaring down Cathrine. 

Ford struggled against you and Mabel, hard. Mabel grumbled holding back his arms as his thrashing grew more desperate the closer Cathrine inched to the sand. Ford tried to wiggle towards her, so you sat on him to hold him down.

You looked to Dipper, expecting help. Or for him to swat the creature away. Instead, he was staring down Cathy, with what at first looked like a glare, but you went on to realize was… a trance. “God fucking-“ you started. You tried to reach him without moving too far from your post, but it didn’t work. At least Dip wasn’t moving. 

Cathy had turned her attention to your boyfriend, and Ford was not happy. “Cathy?” He practically begged. 

You were also not happy. “Dip,” you said, snapping your finger at him to get his attention. It didn’t work. In fact, he hadn’t blinked the whole time you’d been looking at him. You glanced back at Mabel, still holding thrashing arms. Ugh. “Dipper, snap the fuck out of it,” you complained. 

The siren creeped closer to him, and he made no effort to move away. Worse, he knelt down to her level. Mabel seemed to notice too, “uh, bro?” She asked. 

“Ok, Mabes, let’s both agree not to look too hard at Cathy, alright?” You said, trying to keep the fish out of your peripheral. “Cuz he can’t look away right now.”

Mabel nodded, averting her eyes. At the very least, Ford was calming down. Well, no. Calm was not the right word. Ford was depressed and disparaged like you’d never seen before, practically melting into the sand rather than thrashing for escape. 

You tentatively got up from Ford. The moment your weight was off him, he sprang up and tried to lunge for Cathrine. “Oh, fuck off,” you grumbled, tackling him again and holding him down. A low groan escaped his lips. 

Things were getting worse for Dipper though. Slowly, as if crossing a threshold, he outstretched his hand for Cathrine, despite Fords despondent wails. Her disgusting slimy leaves were dangling above him as she lowered them onto his palm. You made mental note not to touch his hands until he washed them.

You looked at Mabel. There seemed to be a stalemate going on. “Ok, what if one of us takes arms and body,” you suggested, looking at Fords sad face resting in the sand. 

“Oh!” She perked up. “I can try,” she offered. 

“Uh, on three?” You asked. You shared a nod and started to count.

On three, you leapt up towards Dipper, shoved him out of the way. You pressed your eyes into a squint as you faced Cathy, trying to avoid her face. Holy fuck her gross hand was near your legs. 

You squirmed at the thought of that touching you, and your legs moved on their own. In a swift motion that you didn’t even fully register, Cathrine was kicked in the head. Easy, since she was low to the ground on the water. 

The moment your foot collided with her face, you regretted it. Still barefoot, you could feel her grainy, slimy skin on yours, and feel the way her jaw moved with your hit, and the way it freaked with the motion. You squeaked as you recoiled away, almost wanting to cleave your foot from your body. 

Cathrine hissed, with a remarkably similar reaction to you. She slithered away back under the water like a snake, and swam away. That was all it took? 

You looked back to take stock. Mabel had knocked the wind out of Ford landing on his back, taking his arms down with her in a makeshift arm bar. Why in gods name she wasn’t doing that the whole time, you didn’t know. With Cathy gone though, he seemed to be doing better, and was actually spitting out the sand that had gotten in his mouth instead of gnawing on it defeatedly. 

You glanced at Dipper, who blinked a few times. His eyes were watery, probably recovering from the dry spell staring context he seemed to have with Cathrine. “Hey, so-“ he started, looking at you, the Ford and Mabel, then the empty spot in the water where the siren was. “Um, what happened just now?”

You snickered, “Found out you’re into old fish hags.”

Ford mumbled out a dazed, “Don’t call her that, she’s a beautiful woman.” None of that was factually correct. She looked more like a fish. 

Dippers face reddened. “I-“ he stopped himself, jaw hanging slightly open. He closed it, pursing his lips, “Yeah, I got nothing, actually.”

You rolled your eyes, and offered him a hand up. “Yeah, I didn’t think so, you freak,” you laughed smugly, “should I be jealous?”

He took the hand, brushing the sand off his legs. “Uh, maybe not you,” he said, glancing back at the ground. “But Great uncle Ford should be.”

He groaned again from the ground, and Mabel got off of him. “Do you guys, uh, wanna leave?”

You stared at the water a moment, scanning for anymore dark shadows underneath. Your eyes caught on the boat Wendy’s siblings were on. “Yeah, alright,” you affirmed. “Is somebody gonna wake Stan?”

“Not it,” Mabel said. You quickly echoed her, leaving Dipper the odd one out. 

“Why are you guys the worst?” He said, walking off toward Stans chair. Ford mumbled an agreement from the ground, and you were fine to call the beach episode done. The water was not looking amazing after seeing its creatures. And you had to go home and wash your foot as soon as possible, since cutting it off wasn’t an option. 

Next

Chat I did smth scary 💀 after like 2 years I’ve given my friend fanfic privileges back. I got one friend who matches my freak and I can trust to read my fucking x readers. Trying to write this chapter was so stressful cuz for once I was self aware of my cringe.

Taglist: @cipheress-to-k-pop @dead-esque @phobo-ss

[sebastianswallows]

Beautiful memories — Chapter 2

— PAIRING: Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (aged up)

— SYNOPSIS: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child, and is filled with anger and jealousy and confusion. He just doesn't know the child is his yet.

— WARNINGS: angst, then a lot of fluff

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— A/N: Here's part 2 of the fic requested by my dear @pugsnotdrugs92 💕 I expect the next chapter will be the last (and it will be the one with the smutt). Enjoy, my dears! 😘

— TAGGING: @rbdiggory @sammysgirl1997

The house she rented was near London, on the outer edges. Looking out the window, Sebastian could see empty dirt fields all around, land prepared for more construction, and to the side toward the south plumes of chimney smoke coming from the city. The grey skies were turning red with sunset.

A couple of lamps turned on behind him in the room, he could see their glow reflected in the window. Cutting through them, a shadow approached. She hugged him from behind.

“I must’ve told you a hundred times today,” she said with her cheek pressed against his back, “but I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he said.

It was true. He’d missed her every day, and every memory of her the Dementors pulled out was like a splinter chipped off of his heart. But since learning of her… situation, he no longer knew what he felt. Was it hatred? Was it rage? Was there even a feeling left inside of him for her, or was the hatred and the rage all for himself?

“Come on,” she said with a calm and loving voice, blissfully ignorant of the storm raging inside him, “let’s give you a little wash.”

She had him sit on the sofa in front of the lit fireplace, and one by one the space before him filled with bowls of water pitchers and little mounds of towels. He wasn’t sure how he looked anymore, he’d only caught the faintest reflection of himself in the window, but he imagined it wasn’t good. His hair felt matted, his skin crusted with dirt, and he didn’t even want to look at all the bruises anymore…

After she placed everything she needed, she brought him chocolate to eat, and on the table next to him she placed a steaming cup of hot cocoa. Sebastian smiled as he picked up a little chocolate square and let melt on his tongue. He remembered reading about this remedy against Dementors in his third year. How long ago that was…

While he ate the sweets, she tended to him. She took his jacket off, his boots, his tie and vest and shirt, and limb by limb she scraped the dirt away, while his feet rested in warm salt water. She had the nerve to blush when she cleaned down his chest, her hands moving slow and enticing. When she reached his thighs, she worked down each one with both hands, sneaking glances up at him through her long lashes.

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat, but he no longer had it in him to be aroused at the sight. At least, not yet. The picture of her at his feet, his naked skin beneath her hands — bruised and bony as he was — was soiled by the thought of what Ominis would think if he saw this…

The next hour was spent cleaning the wounds on his wrists and ankles, applying salves wherever she found the smallest scrape or bruise, and then washing his hair. She placed a basin on a table behind the sofa and had him lean back, close his eyes, and gave him a bit more chocolate. Her fingers soothed his nerves as they massaged his scalp, lathering him slowly, untangling the knots made across so many restless nights… She rinsed the foam out, and then lathered his hair again until she was satisfied that he was clean. He was covered in a blanket by now, feet warming by the fire.

Once he was dry, she brought new clothes out for him — just a comfortable pair of nightclothes to start.

Sebastian let her dress him, but stayed silent the whole while. Unnaturally silent.

“How do you feel?” she asked with an encouraging smile as she rubbed the towel against his still-damp hair.

He avoided the question. “I should be asking you that.”

“Oh?” she giggled. “How so?”

“How far along?” he asked brusquely, not even looking at her.

“Six months,” she said with a sad smile, her hands threading gently through his hair.

Sebastian nodded and was quiet for long moments while the feelings he’d kept trying to hold back bubbled to the surface. Then, all of a sudden, he got up and walked all the way around the sofa. He started to pace up and down the centre of the room.

It wasn’t exactly unexpected… What did he, a convicted murderer with a broken wand, have to offer somebody like her? And who else to take her from him than Ominis — wealthier, more handsome, well-connected, kind and gentle and always far more level-headed than he ever was.

He should be happy for her, if he loved her. But he couldn’t manage it.

“I’d like to go,” he said, looking aimlessly around, everywhere but at her.

“What? Why?”

“I can’t stay here…”

“But ��”

“I can’t.”

“Sebas—”

“It was difficult enough,” he started, “to be in there, wondering about you all the time, doubting whether… whether you would even want to speak to me after everything. But to see… to see you and…”

“And what?” she asked tearfully.

Sebastian took a deep breath in, then out. His swallowed thoughts and feelings poured out of him faster than he could control them.

“Every good memory I ever had was drained out of me, every day, every day,” he mumbled, “but however bad it was, I still thought… I still had… you.”

“Sebastian,” she whispered, approaching him slowly, “what are you talking about? You do have me, you do.”

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, working up the courage to say it. The chime of her steps on the wooden floor rang like a death knell in his ears.

“Seeing you and Ominis today…” he spat, sounding exactly as angry and betrayed and lonely as he felt, “was worse than any thoughts the Dementors put in my head.”

She stood there quietly and listened in a state of shock. Nothing he was saying made sense. Wasn’t he happy to see his friends? Was this an effect of his imprisonment? Would it go away with time? He sounded jealous, but he couldn't be. Nothing had changed between the three of them since they were at Hogwarts — nothing aside from…

“I should have known,” he continued, shaking his head as if he could get rid of the awful thoughts, “I should have known when you were always at the trial together, always whispering to each other…”

“Sebastian,” she said, speaking more sharply than she meant to, “whatever you think happened between me and Ominis, it didn’t.”

He looked down at her, his eyes dull and bleary but full of anger.

She met his gaze and held it gently, and reached out to take his hand. “Is this what you’re worried about?” she asked as she placed his palm on her lightly swollen stomach. “Because this is ours.”

She said it as if it had been the most obvious thing, but it struck Sebastian like a revelation. Suddenly, he looked at her as if she were a new person, and as if he were new as well. His frown relaxed and his lips lost their tension and the brown in his eyes turned sweet again from the smoulder that was there before.

“W-what?”

“That night after they announced your trial… Remember?” she said with a shy smile, blushing a little. “It’s ours. I was never involved with Ominis, we’re friends, like we’ve always been… It’s you I love, you I want, you I’ve been carrying this for.”

Sebastian swallowed the knot in his throat and looked down at her body, his hand still on her stomach. He nearly had forgotten… How could he? How could he? After years of circling around each other that night of finally confessing, finally accepting their love… It had meant everything to him, and if only for a moment it eclipsed his past sins and the looming trial and made everything fade into nothingness. Showing his love for her had been the sweetest moment of his life… So, how could he have forgotten it?

“The Dementors,” she frowned, answering it for him. “They steal happy memories, that is what they feed on.”

“I suppose they must’ve had a feast with that,” he said with a hoarse chuckle.

“My poor darling,” she whispered, her hand going up to cup his cheek. She knew she couldn’t begin to understand what had been done to him. Even seeing it unfold distraught her...

Sebastian, meanwhile, was fixated, fascinated, his hand warming on her tummy. “Mine,” he muttered, his hand caressing the expanse of her little swell. “W-wow…”

He was just beginning to understand what it meant: how wrong he’d been about her, about Ominis too, and about himself… And how beautiful of a future they had together now.

It also made him realise how horrible he’d been to her so far.

“I’m sorry,” he said briskly, looking into her eyes again.

“Why?” she frowned.

“For doubting you. For being ungrateful, most of all…”

“Oh Seb,” she sighed, and in the same breath reached up to hug him. “I’m sorry I didn’t explain it at first,” she whispered. “I know I should have. I just… felt so uncomfortable about it, so —”

“Ashamed?”

“Yes,” she mumbled.

His arms tightened around her back. “We’re both ashamed then. And we both shouldn’t be.”

She laughed a little. “I suppose so…”

Sebastian leaned back enough to look into her eyes again and his right hand cupped her cheek. With a trembling thumb, he wiped away a little tear that beaded at her lashes.

“And I’ve been letting you fuss over me all day,” he smiled sadly, wanting to sink into the ground with guilt.

“Don’t be silly,” she chuckled. “I’ve been alright… It’s you I’m worried about.”

“There’s nothing to worry about anymore.”

He knew it wasn’t really true, he knew he was still troubled and far from the man she used to know, but he was determined — especially now — to put Azkaban and all its woes behind him.

She hugged him loosely at the hips and smiled up at him, drinking in the beautiful sight of her Sebastian with finally a little bit of hope in his eyes.

“So what do you think?” she grinned. “Will you let me take care of you now?”

“I should be taking care of you. I did this to you, after all,” he said with a cocked brow. His hands slid down her neck and to her shoulders before settling around her waist, and all the while he looked her up and down suggestively.

She blushed at the shamelessness of him. “How about we take care of each other?” she chuckled.

“Well, you’ve already taken care of me enough for today,” he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “I think it’s my turn now.”

She giggled and shook her head, but found her heart fluttering excitedly, just like it used to when they were still at Hogwarts, young and careless and in love… Of course, they were still quite young, and very much in love. They just needed to work on being careless again.

“And how do you propose to do that?” she whispered.

His arms wrapped around her waist more tightly and he tucked her head beneath his chin.

“That’s exactly how,” he said dreamily. “I’m going to propose.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

She pulled away enough to look at him. She could tell that he was being serious.

“You don’t expect I’ll let you go on this way, will you?” he said. His gaze was playful but with a serious edge beneath it. “We shall have to marry soon. This month. This week, if possible... Then we can go somewhere nice and quiet for a while, so neither your family nor any of our friends will be able to tell the months…”

“Seb, you’re not ready yet…”

“What am I, one of Garreth’s potions? I’m ready when I say I am.”

She laughed in spite of herself.

“So, what do you say?” he grinned.

And he pulled himself away from her, and held her hands in his, and with a surety that he had until now thought lost to him forever he got down on one knee.

“Will you marry me?”

She didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes. I will. I love you.”

Sebastian’s smile was so big and broad that it hurt his cheeks. It was so nice to have a dream come true every now and then… It felt like he’d been given a new life, a new soul that wasn’t tarnished, a fresh heart to love her with. His arms curled around her waist and he rested his weary head against her stomach, his eyes closed, and his ear to the little life inside her.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Both of you.”

He heard and felt her giggle, and then her hands came down to his ruffled head. She covered him like a star-speckled and cloud-soft firmament, and he’d never felt more safe.

[inkymkk]

more headcanons I have for him bc I'm feeling braver and also because it's anon and you can't tell me off

• has no allergies but really paranoid when trying something new because he's scared he might be allergic to it

•back to the bread crust thing, he takes them off and cuts them into little squares and makes them into croutons for Ash to eat (my mama does this, its so good)

• despises the smell of milk

• lets his pokemon choose whether they want to sleep in or outside the pokeball so that they sleep comfortably

• hates the noise of balloons popping

• pretty good at drawing but rarely has time to do it

• judges people silently unless he knows them and doesn't like them, then he makes sure they know he's judging them (twat)

• looks up to Quillon and copies what he does

• forgets to eat a lot since he gets sucked into his work as a researcher

• feels the need to be successful for his parents so that he can feel like they'd be proud of him if they were alive

WAVESS AND EATS YOUR HEADCANONSSSSSSS

[angelkin-food-cake]

Spinach Artichoke Hand Pies

14.1 oz. pre-made pie crusts, gluten free if desired

9 oz. frozen chopped spinach thawed and squeezed

6.5 oz. jarred artichoke hearts drained

2 garlic cloves

4 oz. cream cheese

½ cup grated parmesan cheese

salt

1 egg white

grated parmesan cheese for topping

Make sure that spinach and artichoke hearts are nicely squeezed. Chop artichoke hearts and spinach a little extra and add both to the mixing bowl.

Add cream cheese, Parmesan cheese, pressed garlic, and salt into the mixing bowl as well. Mix well until all ingredients are completely incorporated.

Preheat oven to 350 and grease a baking sheet.

Roll out the pie crust and cut a little less than an inch off the sides, to form a square (it may not be a perfect square and it's okay). Cut each square in half.

Scoop about 1/3 cup of spinach artichoke mixture and place it in the center of each pie crust half. Spread if in a shape of a rectangle leaving about an each of pie crust on each end. (You may have a little bit of filling left over...spread it on a cracker!) Fold the hand pies and make sure to lightly press the seams together. You can use the pieces of dough that you cut off to cover any space not covered when folding the ends together or make shapes and decorate the top.

Place hand pies on a baking sheet. Whisk egg white and brush each hand pie with it.

Bake them for 25-27 minutes, until the pies are golden brown.

[anamelessfool]

For One Creature's Sake (pt 1 of 2)

(AO3 Link) GEN | Primo & Young Copia

Submitted to @cirrus-ghoulette Whump Month Prompt. June 9: Phobia

Family Drama, Phobias, Young Characters, Brotherly Affection, Caring, Family Bonds, Time Skips, Hurt/Comfort

"Shouldn’t a three, four year old be talking more?" (This is actually an excerpt from my upcoming fic!)

1979

Primo and the little boy named Copia waited until the dining hall had cleared after dinner to have their meals. Sister Agatha, head cook, smiled at them across the hall from her place scrubbing the range. “I can’t thank you enough again, Sister,” Primo said, returning her greeting with a wave. He hiked Copia further up on his hip, carrying him over to a corner table. He placed the boy on the bench next to him and gave his fluffy hair a pat. The first time he had brought Copia down for a meal the boy had cried hysterically, the noise of crowded dinner conversations bouncing off the walls overwhelming him.

“Anything, sweetheart,” Agatha said. “I saved this for you.” The old cook carried over a small tray of leftovers, setting it down on the table. “And how are you, little one?”

Copia’s brow furrowed, his big eyes staring at her with suspicion. He brought his arms to his chest and squeezed himself. Agatha tilted her head. “No talking yet?”

“I coax it out of him, occasionally,” Primo replied. “But it’s mostly just repeating what I say. Jogs his memory, I guess. Shouldn’t a three, four year old be talking more?”

“Look at you, doting on him.” Agatha smiled quietly. “He’s gone through a lot, in a short time. Just be patient with him.”

“Secundo is already planning on teaching him piano,” Primo chuckled. “Says Copia’s actually pretty intelligent. Can read a little, apparently. But we can barely get him to eat or speak.”

“That boy Secundo is eighteen going on forty five.” Agatha shook her head. “Everyone’s a project to him. Gotta lighten him up, Primo.”

“Sure, let me add that to my list. Tack it on,” Primo sighed as he cut the chicken breast and carrots into small pieces.

“A little bit at a time. Copia may surprise you. But don’t get too excited, that may scare him back to square one,” Agatha said.

Primo flashed her a tired, thankful smile. “You’re a gem.”

“Anytime. Let me know when you want to darken my door and man my grill again, handsome,” Agatha replied with a friendly wink. Primo laughed back. The cook returned to her kitchen chores, leaving Primo and Copia alone to eat in the quiet.

Primo attempted to hand the boy a fork, but Copia ignored him, making an attempt to reach for a piece of the meal with his hand. He leaned too far forward and slid under the table, uttering a small surprised yelp. Primo lunged for him and pulled him up into his lap. “We’ve got to solve that,” Primo muttered to him, and handed the boy a bread crust to gnaw on. Copia finished the piece and started grabbing the food with both hands like a desperate little rodent. “Hey, slowly!” 

”Slowly,” Copia parroted back, his mouth muffled by food. Primo pulled the plate away and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder, sighing. He was grateful the boy was too small to see his worried frown. Too much had happened lately, too many loose ends and lost trails surrounding this Copia kid to count. He couldn’t walk away from his promise to find out where Copia’s mother had gone, and the thought of sharing with her what had happened to her child kept Primo up at night.

“Ahh! Nooooo!” Copia started to howl, scratching at Primo’s robe, kicking his legs.

Primo hugged the boy close. “What is it, shhhh…”

Copia vigorously pointed at the far corner of the room. There was a cabinet there, set in the shadow of a column. A piece of bread sat abandoned a few feet away. Copia fell into a sniffling silence. After a few minutes of quiet, something below the cabinet stirred and cautiously emerged into the light, padding softly towards the food on the floor.

It was a rat.

Copia shrieked again. The rat sat back on its haunches, rolled and scurried under the cabinet. Primo held Copia’s head in his hands, watching the little boy struggle with hiccuping breaths. “It’s okay, it's just a little rat,” Primo whispered. He saw the rat bite on the boy’s cheek, healing slowly but healing well. It would be a scar, but not too big. “They're just as afraid of you. You're both so little.”

Copia slammed his body against Primo’s chest. “So little,” he said with heaving breaths.

“Everything is so much bigger. Even you. You're bigger than him.”

“I’m…I’m bigger?” Copia blinked furiously, looking up into Primo’s eyes.

Primo smiled down at him, petting his head. “Much much bigger. Very scary.” Something clicked in the little boy. His eyebrows twitched, his eyes searching. His mind must have been grappling with the concept of his own self being scary to another creature. “Even if you're not, you may seem scary to somebody else. Hold on, let me show you.” He picked up Copia, putting him on the bench beside him. He stood up, taking a piece of chicken from the plate.

He walked over to the cabinet, dropping the meat on the floor and softly moved back to the bench. “Now let's watch and see,” he whispered, putting Copia back on his lap, his hands enfolding the boy protectively. “Be quiet, he's shy.”

“He's shy,” Copia whispered back, fascinated.

There was a few more minutes of silence then the shadows stirred. The rat cautiously returned to the light, sniffing the air. Copia grabbed Primo’s hands and Primo pulled the boy closer into him. The rat stepped across the floor and examined the meat, bringing it into its paws, settling in to eat it right there in front of them.

“He's got little hands!” Copia shouted, and the rat visibly jumped and rushed back under the cabinet. “I scared him. He's got little hands, doesn't he, Primo?”

Primo gripped Copia tightly, stunned. It was the most the boy had ever said so far. He swallowed, trying to hide his excitement. “Yes, little hands, like you.”

Copia reached for a piece of bread off his plate, then pulled and kicked in Primo’s arms. “Let me down!”

Primo obliged, trying to keep his movements even. His heart was pounding. Copia walked hesitantly over to the cabinet and dropped the bread. He scampered a few feet away, sitting down on the floor, watching and waiting.

“Don't touch him,” Primo said quietly. “Just watch. You have to give everyone a chance, okay.”

Copia nodded then settled into a focused stillness. In a moment more, the rat returned. The creature froze, eying Copia, but then saw no danger from the boy. It walked over to the bread and grabbed it in its mouth, turning tail and trotting back to the safety of the shadows.

Copia looked over to Primo, his face bright, his mouth in an excited smile. He’s smiling, he's actually smiling, Primo thought, his throat becoming tight.

“He's got little hands and little black eyes,” the boy explained. “Little dark eyes like me.”

“Yes…yes he does,” Primo agreed, his voice cracking as he struggled not to cry. “Come on, come eat the rest of your dinner.”

Copia pushed himself off of the floor and scampered back to Primo, attempting to mimic the rat’s movements. “Get the traps, we have a big one over here!” Primo laughed, grabbing Copia and swinging him back into his lap. “He’s awful hungry too. Look at him eat!”

Copia grabbed a piece of his dinner and nibbled it close to his face. “We will be here for hours if you eat everything like that.” Primo pet the boy on his head once more, wiping tears from his eyes. “But I’ll be patient.”

Me on AO3!

If you're up for seeing some 70s era Dark Magic Noir, please subscribe to my AO3 or the "Scenes from the Void" Series there. This fic will be released very soon. Thank you!

[teegeewrites]

The new fic is here! This was one of the most fun fics I've ever written, and I hope whoever reads it enjoys as well!

Scent of Revenge - AO3

Mario was no stranger when it came to hard battles, which included a muscular gorilla obsessed with his ex-girlfriend and toys of his likeness as well as a powerful turtle-dragon king who repeatedly kidnaps the Mushroom Kingdom’s benevolent ruler and desires to rule over said kingdom. Every time, the plumber emerged victorious against them. However, this trial, while not as arduous as squaring off against mighty beings, presented its own challenge.

Physically, the opponent in question posed no threat, so Mario didn’t have to worry about any bruises or any other external aches. However, it tested him in a different way, even if it lacked the sentience to realize it.

It not so innocently sat in the middle of the round table. It had the shape and size of a standard vinyl record. Ripe red Yoshi berries smothered in thick syrup of the same hue spread across the off-white primary section. A golden-brown layer of graham cracker crust lay beneath it to complete its tantalizing image.

Although Mario has seen and eaten his fair share of cheesecake in his life, none had him as transfixed as the one in his presence. Unfortunately, his sight wasn’t the only sense titillated by the dessert’s elegant presentation. The sweet aroma it emitted, especially the berries, pleasantly tickled his nostrils and caused him to involuntarily sniff quite a few times. This potent assault on his senses made his mouth drool and stomach grumble in anticipation. He was certain the accursed thing would’ve blown a raspberry at him if it had a tongue.

Mario chuckled to himself as he thought about how he was reacting. Princess Peach’s confectionary creations always had this effect on him, so he’d like to think he’d be used to them by now. Nonetheless, here he was in awe of yet another sugary concoction. When she invited him to the castle to sample her latest endeavor, he could’ve rivaled Sonic with how fast he arrived. Now, here he sat, exerting as much self-control as he could muster while awaiting her return. If he were Wario, the whole thing would already be sitting pretty in his stomach. However, he would never consider doing such a thing to Peach. No matter how tempted he was, he wouldn’t lay a finger on the cheesecake until she came back.

Fortunately, the wait wasn’t long as she appeared with some plates, utensils, and a large knife. He smiled as she cut two generous slices with the knife and placed them on their plates. He internally celebrated his victory against the strong temptation, for his tenuous patience was about to pay off. However, he would have to wait a little longer because of his self-imposed rule of waiting until the princess finished her first bite before even thinking about picking up his fork.

Peach smiled genteelly at him before cutting a piece of her slice with a fork and elegantly wrapping her peach-colored lips around it. She placed her free hand on her cheek after swallowing the piece and moaned softly as a blissful close-eyed smile formed on her face.

“I’ve never been one to toot my own horn, but I think this is delicious,” Peach opened her eyes and smiled softly towards Mario. “However, I am more interested in what you think of it, Mario.”

Not needing to be told twice, Mario nodded before cutting a large portion of his slice. He made sure to grab a berry because he wanted to taste everything. He smiled at Peach before placing his fork in his mouth. His eyes widened in awe as he swallowed the portion. He marveled at how creamy and dense the cheesecake was. It had the right amount of tartness he believed a cheesecake should have, and the sweetness of the berries and syrup provided a delicate yet effective balance. In other words, this cheesecake was divine.

“I must say, Princess, this has to be the best cheesecake I have ever tasted!” Mario grinned. “You may have outdone yourself with this one!”

Peach’s cheeks gradually took on the same hue as her dress as she unsuccessfully tried to prevent a smile from forming on her face. “Why, thank you, Mario. To be honest, this endeavor intimidated me. I heard how difficult making a cheesecake can be, so I was afraid it would be a disaster. The Toads who tasted my first attempt thought it was good; however, I know they would praise anything I made, even if it was a rock boiled in water. Hearing you laud my effort, however, means a lot to me.”

Mario’s cheeks gradually warmed at Peach’s comments as he briefly looked down at his lap. He lifted his head as soon as he felt his face return to normal and grinned. “Thank you for the kind words, Princess. You are the best baker I know outside of my nonna and mama, so I knew I was in for a treat when you invited me over to try your cheesecake. Trust me, I know how frustrating making one of these things is! I burned my first attempt and never tried to make another one again. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said this is the best cheesecake I’ve had the pleasure of eating. In fact, I'm already looking forward to seconds!”

He grabbed his fork and devoured the rest of his slice in record time, which elicited the bell-sounding tone of Peach’s laughter. After finishing their second slices and engaging in some conversation, Peach placed a hand over mouth as she poorly tried to contain a giggle.

“Is something funny, Princess?” Mario asked with confusion.

“You have some crumbs in your mustache,” Peach giggled.

“Oh, is that so?” Mario smiled playfully as he reached for a napkin. “I guess I better take care of that real quick!”

“Mario, wait! Allow me to wipe them off,” Peach volunteered as she rose from her seat with a napkin in hand. She approached Mario and meticulously wiped away the offending crumbs from his mustache. A rush of blood trickled towards Mario’s face during the cleaning, and he released a held breath after Peach was finished.

“There, crisis averted! The hero’s mustache is all clean!” Peach grinned cheekily.

Mario chuckled in response, which made Peach chuckle in return. Peach’s face, however, became more serious as she gazed into his eyes before grabbing his cheeks. Mario’s heartrate picked up its pace as he returned the gaze. Mario then thought he was hallucinating because it appeared that Peach’s eyes gradually shifted down towards his lips. The next thing he knew, her face inched towards his, causing a bunch of alarms to sound off in his head.

“Um, Princess,” Mario gulped, causing Peach to stop for the time being, “not that I’m being ungrateful or anything, but what are you doing?”

Peach grinned with seductive playfulness, making him gulp even louder. “Don’t worry, Mario. Your question wasn’t rude at all. To answer it, I believe my hero deserves a second treat. I guarantee this one will be just as sweet if not sweeter than the cheesecake.” She closed her eyes and puckered her lips before continuing to inch closer to his face.

Peach’s insinuation did not fly over Mario’s head, and that caused his heart to act like an unruly prisoner trying to break out of its cell. His face rapidly heated up, and beads of sweat danced on his forehead. He had conflicting feelings about the predicament he found himself in because while he sat frozen in his chair in nervous anticipation, this was also something he dreamed of happening ever since he met the princess. He eventually relaxed his shoulders and closed his eyes while awaiting his second dessert…

~~~

“OWWW!”

Mario woke up to something slapping his cheek hard. He massaged the tender spot and glared in the direction from which the sharp blow came. There sat Luigi, slumped on the couch snoring away with an arm flailing loosely. Mario shook his head in disbelief while chuckling to himself knowing who the culprit was, for this was far from the first time Luigi inadvertently struck him while asleep.

Speaking of sleep, Mario realized the interaction with Peach in the garden was merely a dream. He was annoyed and disappointed at first, but that quickly gave way to a lamentable smile forming on his lips.

“This always happens at the best part,” he murmured humorously to himself. “I can’t even get lucky in my dreams.”

After laughing about his poorly timed luck, he recognized the television was still on airing an infomercial. He smiled as he remembered that he and Luigi were watching a movie together and must have fallen asleep at some point. He rose from the couch and turned off the TV before reclaiming his spot next as the dream replayed in his mind.

“Hee-hee, cut it out, Daisy! That tickles!” Luigi’s groggy voice brought Mario back to reality. His brother was clearly dreaming about Princess Daisy and from the smile on his face, it was certainly a happy one.

“At least I’m not the only one dreaming about a princess,” Mario laughed quietly to himself as Luigi continued to talk about Daisy in his sleep.

As Mario continued to be amused by his dozing brother, he noticed something peculiar on Luigi’s face. He had an idea what it was at first but leaned closer to get a better look. There was no mistake about it: Luigi’s face was covered with orange kiss prints, with his nose having the most.

It took Mario a herculean effort not to laugh out loud as not to wake Luigi up from his slumber. He knew only one person who painted her lips orange and from that deduced who did this to his brother. He quickly placed a hand over his mouth to stifle another bit of incoming laughter that threatened to escape.

A quick glance at his hand upon removing it made him furrow his brow in confusion. A few pink spots were on his fingers, and a pink smudge sat in the middle of his palm since it was the same hand he rubbed his cheek with earlier. He had a notion what the pink marks were; however, he wanted to confirm them first. He raced to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, there were multiple pink kiss prints all over his face, including a few smudged ones from his earlier actions, causing him to smirk at his reflection. Unlike Luigi’s, however, the ones on his face were placed in a delicate heart pattern, excluding the one dead smack in the middle of his nose. He was disappointed at first that one wasn’t on his lips but smiled in relief since he wanted to be awake should that moment ever come. He chuckled heartily, knowing how meticulous and graceful the person responsible was, before leaving.

Luigi was still blissfully dozing away when Mario returned to the living room. As much as he regretted doing so, he roughly shook Luigi’s shoulder to wake him up. Luigi reacted by groaning then stretching and yawning before staring at Mario with his eyes halfway open.

“Mario, what’s going on?” Luigi moaned irritably. “I was getting to the best part of…”

Luigi’s voice trailed off as his sleepy eyes fully widened. Any traces of sleep vanished from his face, and his eyebrows almost disappeared under his tousled hair.

“Um, Mario. Pardon me for asking, but why do you have a bunch of kiss marks on your face?” Luigi chuckled as his lips stretched into a smug smirk. “Did the princess visit and the two of you make out while I was asleep?”

Mario flinched as his face burned at Luigi’s teasing inquiry. He certainly wouldn’t object to such a thing happening, but it wasn’t true. A quick look at the orange kiss marks on Luigi’s face helped him recover, and he returned the smug smirk.

“I wouldn’t be talking if I were you,” Mario teased. “You should worry about your own face before commenting on mine.”

Luigi cocked an eyebrow. “Mario, what are you talking about?”

“Go look in the mirror, and you’ll see!” Mario chuckled.

Luigi’s brow furrowed before he shrugged and made his way to the bathroom. An astonished shout echoed throughout the house a few seconds later, causing Mario to laugh so hard he nearly hit the floor as he plopped on the couch. Tears flew from his eyes as his laughter continued when Luigi returned.

“Go ahead, chuck it up!” Luigi stood with his hands on his hips before joining Mario on the couch. He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair.

Mario placed a hand on Luigi’s shoulder after his laughing fit ended. “Well, Luigi. It appears we had some visitors while we were asleep.”

“I didn’t know Daisy was in the Mushroom Kingdom,” Luigi shook his head.

“Did you forget that the princess told us Daisy was visiting for a week? She arrived yesterday.”

“It must have slipped my mind,” Luigi rubbed the back of his head. “I would’ve looked forward to seeing her again. Back to the topic at hand, I can’t believe they did this to us! They could’ve at least woken us up so we could enjoy it!”

“Yeah,” Mario nodded in agreement. “I bet you anything this was Daisy’s idea! I doubt the princess would come up with something like this on her own.”

“Well, she has kissed you a few times while you rested after rescuing her,” Luigi grinned, making Mario’s cheeks burn some. “But they were just once and out of gratitude. They were nothing like this! With that said, I completely agree this is something Daisy would come up with!”

“We’re not going to sit back and let this slide are we, little brother?”

“Definitely not, but how are we going to get them back?!”

“Good question,” Mario rubbed his chin. “One thing’s for sure: leaving kiss marks on their faces while they’re asleep is out of the question.” The brothers shared a laugh over that.

A few minutes later after flipping through some scenarios in his brain, Mario’s eyes lit up as a light bulb turned on in his head. He smiled widely as a clear picture of his idea formed in his mind.

“I take it you came up with something?” Luigi chuckled with a smile of his own.

“You know me too well, Luigi!” Mario returned the chuckle.

“So, spill the beans! I need to know what it is!”

Mario laughed at Luigi’s excited anticipation. “Don’t worry, little brother. I’ll tell you in due time. I even know when to put the plan into action.”

Luigi’s eyebrows popped. “When would that be?”

“I just remembered something,” Mario smiled. “The princess told me that she, Daisy, and Toadette will be spending all day in Bubblaine tomorrow for a girl’s getaway. That means they won’t be in the castle during that time. Surely, we can do something then, can’t we?”

“Now I’m even more interested!” Luigi rubbed his hands together with a mischievous smile. “At least give me a hint at what you have in mind.”

Mario placed a hand on Luigi’s shoulder. “First, we’re going to pay Minh T. a visit…”

~~~

After wiping the kiss prints from their faces, much to Luigi’s displeasure, Mario and Luigi left their house on their way to visit Minh T. During their trek, Mario filled Luigi in on his plan to avenge the princesses' prank, making Luigi’s eyes widen a few times.

“Mario,” Luigi began with concern in his voice, “not that I’m doubting you or anything, but are you sure we’ll be able to pull something like this off?”

“I want to say absolutely,” Mario answered truthfully. “However, we’ll get our answer after speaking to Minh T.”

Luigi looked at the sky with a furrowed brow. “Even if Minh T. says she could do what we’re going to ask her, you know Toadsworth won’t approve of such a thing.”

Mario skidded to a sudden stop at Toadsworth being mentioned. “Mamma mia, I forgot about him!”

Luigi was right that there was zero chance the royal advisor would allow what they had in mind. Not only would he admonish them for considering such a thing, but he would also reacquaint them with his cane a few times for good measure. Although Mario has been hit by harder and more powerful attacks, he has unpleasant memories about that cane striking him, and it was something he didn’t want to experience again if he could help it.

Mario rubbed his chin as he mulled over how they would execute their plan without Toadsworth being the wiser of it. It was something he overlooked while thinking up this plot. He breathed in relief as a smile gradually stretched his lips, for he recalled something about what Toadsworth would be doing tomorrow. His relaxing posture did not go undetected by Luigi.

“So,” Luigi began with a curious gaze, “you have an idea on how we’re going to sneak this past Toadsworth?”

Mario’s smile grew wider as he addressed his brother. “Luigi, we won’t have to worry about Toadsworth after all!”

“Why not?”

“Because he won’t be at the castle, either! He’ll be visiting Little Fungitown assisting the Toads who live there with something.”

“Whew, that’s a relief!” Luigi rubbed his forehead. He then frowned. “Still, the council Toads will certainly object.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about them,” Mario assured Luigi. “They hold us in high reverence and know we would never do anything that would deliberately harm the princess.”

“If you say so,” Luigi sighed. “I guess our main concern is Minh T.”

“Yeah,” Mario nodded his head in agreement. “Let’s find out if she’ll be able to help us.”

The brothers resumed their trek towards the little garden area across the street from the post office where Minh T. usually hangs out. Fortunately, she was there, watering the flowers surrounding the Flower Fields gateway while cheerfully humming to herself.

“Hey there, Minh T.!” Mario waved as he and Luigi approached her.

Minh T. flinched before turning her head and seeing the Mario brothers approaching. A bright cheery smile lit up her face as she rose to greet them. “Hey there, Mario and Luigi! How are you two doing?!”

“Splendid!” Mario matched her energetic spirit.

Minh T. nodded in acknowledgement. “So, what brings you two here?”

“Well,” Mario began, “Luigi and I want to know if you can help us with something.”

“Mario, you know I’ll try to help any way I can! After all, you’re the one responsible for making my dream of having these beautiful flowers bloom here a reality! So, what do you need from me?”

“Well,” Mario rubbed the back of his head as he felt his cheeks get warm from Minh T.’s compliment, “it’s a huge request, so I understand if you’re unable to do it.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll see what I can do,” Minh T. encouraged Mario with a small smile.

Mario sighed as he told her what he needed from her and asked if it was possible. The Toad furrowed her brow as if she were in deep thought, clearly taking in everything he told her. He gulped nervously, wondering if his request was too much. A minute passed before she addressed the Mario brothers.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Mario. What you ask of me is not something that will be easy to do, especially in such a short time frame.”

Mario nodded in somber understanding. Maybe it was presumptuous for him to think he could pull something like this off in one day. Luigi placed a hand on his shoulder with an understanding smile, which he returned. It was worth a shot, but he saw his plan to pay the princesses back evaporating faster than the steam from Princess Peach’s teapots. He would have to think of another idea, one more feasible. He was about to thank Minh T. and return home when a huge smile formed on the Toad’s face.

“However, it doesn’t mean that it’s impossible! This will certainly need assistance from Wise Wisterwood and the other flowers in Flower Fields. I’ll ask them if they can help us. Wait right here; I’ll be right back!” She then entered the gateway to Flower Fields, the door closing immediately afterwards.

“Hey, Mario,” Luigi nervously rubbed his hands together, “do you think Minh T. can convince Wise Wisterwood and the others to help us out? This is a rather ambitious request.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Mario replied with cautious optimism as he placed a hand on Luigi’s back.

A few agonizing minutes later, Minh T. emerged from the gateway with a neutral expression on her face. His fists clenched in nervous anticipation, Mario wasn’t sure if it meant she returned with good news or not. He didn’t want to jump to gun so to speak, so he waited to hear what the Toad had to say. His nerves began to ease when her lips stretched into an assuring smile.

“Great news, guys!” Minh T. beamed. “They’ll be able to help you! Wise Wisterwood immediately accepted when I told him it was a favor for you! He said it was the least he could do after you defeated Huff N. Puff and helped restore peace to Flower Fields.”

“Woo-hoo!” Mario jumped with enthusiasm, making Luigi and Minh T. chuckle. “Thank you so much, Minh T.! We owe you big time for this!”

Minh T. rubbed the back of her head as her cheeks turned a light pink. “Aww, it’s nothing, guys. As I said earlier, you helped me bring this garden to life, so consider us even. He told me he and the flowers will have everything ready by tomorrow morning. Come around by then, and everything should be prepared.”

Mario nodded before bending down and giving Minh T. a grateful hug, causing her entire face to match the color of Peach’s dress. “We’ll be here by then! Once again, thank you so much!”

“Again, you’re welcome, Mario!” Minh T. returned the hug.

“Well, Luigi,” Mario addressed his brother after he and Minh T. broke their hug. “It looks like everything worked out, after all!”

“I guess it did,” Luigi nodded. His tummy then started growling, which made Mario and Minh T. snicker. Luigi chuckled in embarrassment when Mario’s abdomen made loud rumbling sounds of its own. “It appears I’m not the only one hungry here,” he teased his older brother.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mario feigned irritation as he rubbed his midsection while trying to fight off a chuckle. “So, what are we eating? I want to try out that burger joint that recently opened at Toad Town Mall.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Luigi smiled. He turned his attention to Minh T. “Do you want us to bring you back anything, Minh T.?”

“No, I’m fine,” Minh T. replied. “I made my own lunch today. Thank you for offering, though.”

Mario placed a hand on Luigi’s shoulder, which Luigi imitated. “In that case, I guess we’re off. See you tomorrow morning, Minh T.!”

“Sure thing!” Minh T. smiled brightly.

The Mario brothers waved goodbye to Minh T. as they made their way towards Toad Town Mall, with the Toad returning the wave. Mario couldn’t keep the huge grin from his face during the trek, even when Luigi constantly teased him about it. He was looking forward to tomorrow.

~~~

Mario sat up in his bed with a jolt in the wee hours of the following morning thanks to a text notification from his phone. He rubbed his heavy eyelids before grabbing the phone and reading the message. It was from Peach letting him know that she, Daisy, and Toadette were on their way to Bubblaine. He texted her back wishing her safe travels and hoped they enjoyed themselves. She instantly replied with a thank you as well as a pink heart and a winking kiss face emoji, which made his cheeks warm as he put the phone down back on his nightstand.

Since he found it difficult to go back to sleep, he hopped out of bed and gently opened the blinds to peek outside. He grumbled to himself as the sun was nowhere in sight. Despite his copious energy, Mario was never much of an early riser, so he fought off the irritation threatening to explode from his body. He figured a cup of coffee, and a quick bite would improve his mood; hence, he traveled to the kitchen to prepare his light breakfast. He thought about waking Luigi up but although his brother was definitely the morning person between them, he decided to let him sleep for a little longer.

A couple of hours later while watching TV, he received another text message. He opened his phone and saw that this one was from Minh T., informing him that his packages were ready for pick up. His lips curled into a huge smile as replied to the text, telling her he and Luigi would be there shortly. As soon as he sent the message, he hopped off the couch and raced upstairs to Luigi’s bed.

“Luigi, get up!” Mario heavily shook Luigi’s shoulders. “Our packages are ready! We have to go get ‘em!”

Luigi groaned as he opened his eyes. “Ugh, give me a moment, Mario.” He slowly sat up as he blinked himself awake. “I’ll be dressed in a few minutes.”

Mario nodded before returning downstairs. Since Luigi was slower than him when it came to getting ready, he figured it would be at least a half hour before they left. That would give him enough time to watch at least one more show, so he sat in his previous spot on the couch and returned his attention to the TV. As soon as the show concluded, Luigi dashed downstairs and grabbed a piece of toast Mario had made earlier from the kitchen table.

“OK, Mario. I’m ready!” Luigi uttered in between bites of toast.

Mario smiled as he turned off the TV and rose from the couch. He and Luigi grabbed their hats from the rack next to the door and left to meet up with Minh T.

The image of Minh T. standing in front of two boxes that rivaled the size of the average Toad house with a jubilant smile on her face greeted the brothers upon arrival. She waved them over, which caused them to put more pep in their steps.

“Hey guys!” she welcomed them. “So, what do you think?!”

“Minh T., this is absolutely perfect!” Mario beamed with a huge smile. “You’re the best!”

“Aww, shucks!” Minh T. blushed. “I’m happy I could be of help.”

Mario placed a hand on her head in appreciation, making her blush deeper. He immediately removed it upon noticing her reaction, and his cheeks warmed. He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh-heh, sorry about that! I guess that’s a habit I got from the princess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Minh T. assured him. “Speaking of the princess, I’m sure she and Princess Daisy will be thrilled with their gifts!”

Mario and Luigi chuckled from guilt, for they knew they didn’t tell her the whole truth about what the items inside the boxes are for. “Yeah, they’ll be surprised, that’s for sure!” Mario said. “Well, we’ll be taking these out of your hands now. Give our thanks to Wise Wisterwood and the others!”

After equipping the Shrink Badge, Mario gently leapt on the two boxes so as not to crush them, shrinking them down to a manageable size. He and Luigi picked them up and waved goodbye to Minh T. before carrying them towards the castle.

Upon reaching the castle’s main door, they let the guards know they were delivering a surprise present for the princesses. The guards acknowledge the reason for their visit before opening the doors for them. They checked the boxes in the main lobby to make sure they had the right ones before heading towards the princesses’ rooms.

Mario was fortunate to run into a maid who was about to lock Peach’s room. He stopped her and let her know he was dropping off something for the princess. The maid was apprehensive at first since she had strict orders not to let anyone in the room without permission from either Toadsworth or Peach herself. Mario, however, convinced her to grant him this privilege this one time. Since he was the Mushroom Kingdom hero and a close friend of the princess, the maid acquiesced and allowed him to do what he needed to do.

Minutes later, Luigi met Mario at the center of the lobby and grinned mischievously while giving Mario a thumbs up.

“Well, mission accomplished!” Mario laughed. “I would love to be a fly on the wall when they come back tomorrow!”

“Hopefully, they won’t treat us like bugs and try to squash us!” Luigi echoed the laughter. “So, what you want to do now?”

Mario thought for a moment before an idea sprang to mind. “Remember Tayce T. asked us to replace her kitchen faucet when we bumped into her at Toad Town Mall yesterday?”

“Now that I think about it, I sure do,” Luigi affirmed.

“Great, that’s settled!” Mario smiled. “We better head home and get our tools first.”

The brothers nodded at each other before leaving the castle. Mario didn’t know what awaited him when the girls came back from their outing, but he was proud to return the favor for what they did to him and Luigi twenty-four hours earlier.

---

“Man, that was a lot of fun!” Peach exclaimed happily as she, Daisy, and Toadette entered the castle lobby. “It’s been a long time since I remember feeling this refreshed!”

“Tell me about it, sister!” Daisy beamed. “Those spas in Bubblaine are elite! Heck, they give the ones in Sarasaland a run for their money! Our skin and hair have never looked or felt better!”

“Let’s not forget about the food!” Toadette chipped in. “I heard great things about the Luncheon Kingdom, but the dishes in Bubblaine have a great reputation for a reason, especially their seafood!”

“No kidding!” Daisy agreed while rubbing her stomach, making Peach and Toadette laugh. “I think I put on at least fifteen pounds alone from this trip!”

“Considering that you ate more than Toadette and me combined, it wouldn’t be surprising at all,” Peach smirked.

Daisy fake pouted before crossing her arms and turning her head. “Gee, thanks for the words of encouragement, Peach!” However, her pout quickly gave way to laughter, which made Peach and Toadette join her.

“As fun as this outing was, I’m exhausted!” Toadette yawned. “I think I’ll head home and try to get some rest. Thanks for inviting me, Peach and Daisy!”

Peach kneeled down and hugged the pink Toad. “Anytime, sweetie! Thank you for coming with us.”

“No problem, Peach! I’ll see y’all later!” Toadette received a crushing hug from Daisy after Peach finished hers. She quickly re-orientated herself before leaving the castle, causing Peach to smirk teasingly at Daisy.

“Don’t say a word,” Daisy returned the smirk. The princesses then giggled together before Peach unsuccessfully tried to smother a yawn with her hand.

“Toadette had the right idea,” she said. “I think I’ll get some rest too. The trip back takes a lot out of you.”

“I’m right there with you,” Daisy agreed. “As much as I want to give Mario and Luigi their souvenirs, I’m ready to catch some Z’s. Besides, it is late, so we can give them their gifts tomorrow.”

Peach nodded her head. “Well, I guess this is goodnight then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Same here. Goodnight, Peach,” Daisy yawned. The princesses hugged each other before retreating to their rooms.

Despite the signs of sleep becoming more prominent in her body, Peach was still in an upbeat mood. As much as she loves running the Mushroom Kingdom and adores her people, she was glad to get away from her duties for at least one day. Spending quality time with two of her best friends only made everything better. She frowned a little knowing she would have to return to her responsibilities tomorrow, but she wouldn’t change anything for the world.

A tired smile formed on her face as she finally reached her bedroom. After absentmindedly running a hand through her purse, she grabbed her keys and unlocked the doors. What she witnessed made her eyes and mouth widen vastly and place a hand over her thumping heart.

Atop her four-poster bed stood a mountain of carnation pink roses stacked to the upper panel. Not a single inch went uncovered, and there appeared to be no threat of a single flower falling out of place. Despite the inconvenient sight, Peach was impressed by the creativity and structure, and a smile crept on her face in spite of her attempts to resist it.

“PEEEAAACH!” a loud familiar voice shrieked from the hall, snapping her back to reality. She turned around to see Daisy leaning at her door, huffing as if she ran the Yoshi Island marathon. Somehow, Peach held the laughter that threatened to escape from her lips in check.

“You won’t believe what’s…” Daisy began but stopped at noticing Peach’s bed. A smirk formed on her lips. “It looks like you were victimized as well.”

“Wait, you mean…” Peach started.

“Yep,” Daisy cut her off while chuckling. “I have a huge mountain of flowers on my bed as well, except mine are yellow daises.”

The laughter that Peach originally imprisoned broke from captivity and incredulously filled her room. Daisy placed a hand on her shoulder and added her laughter to the mix.

“Wanna guess who’s responsible?” Peach offered between laughs.

“Girl, we already know who did this!” Daisy hacked before regaining her composure. “Besides, I found this next to a vase of daisies on my desk. This clearly gives them away.”

She handed Peach an orange card with some writing inside. Peach read the card aloud:

Violets are blue, roses are red

Enjoy the daisies on your bed

My headstrong flower, best take heed

‘Fore on my face you plant your seed

- Luigi <3

Peach chuckled after returning the card to Daisy. “Well, at least it flowed nicely.”

“That’s my Weegee for ya!” Daisy said with some pride as she hugged the card. “With that said, let’s see if Mario left you something as well.”

Peach nodded as she turned her attention to her desk. Sitting right in the center was a pink vase filled with a few roses and a pink card leaning on the front. She immediately picked the card up and opened it. As with Daisy’s, she orated the writing, which was much sloppier than Luigi’s:

Ah princess, the sweetest fruit

I admit your prank was cute

But I return from the brink

To stack your bed with roses of pink

- Mario <3

“Did Luigi help him write that?” Daisy chuckled wryly.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Peach returned the chuckle. “Well, this was obviously payback for what we did to them yesterday.”

Daisy crossed her arms and huffed. “You’d think they appreciate it more. Most guys would repeatedly have Thwomps cave their heads in to receive what we gave those ungrateful jerks!”

“Now, now, Daisy,” Peach placed a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “You have to admit we deserved this. Besides, I think it’s kind of sweet.”

“Oh Peach, I’m only kidding!” Daisy laughed. “We absolutely had this coming. I agree with you that it’s very sweet, all things considered. At least it was our favorite flowers.”

“True,” Peach agreed.

“However,” Daisy grinned impishly, “that doesn’t mean they will get away with this.”

Peach shook her head. “Oh, Daisy. We got them, they got us. We’re even now. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Daisy conceded with a sigh. “With that said, we can still have some fun with them.”

Peach cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Daisy shared her idea with Peach, and Peach found herself agreeing with it. The princesses giggled among themselves after Daisy finished.

“It should be fun!” Peach said before returning her attention to her bed. Her brow furrowed at the roses. “Well, it looks like we won’t be sleeping in our beds tonight at least.”

“Hmm,” Daisy nodded. “So, what are we going to do?”

Peach pondered about their conundrum for a moment before a solution formed in her mind. “You know the furniture in entertainment center have pop-out beds, right? We can sleep there tonight and have the flowers removed tomorrow.”

“Great idea, Peach!” Daisy beamed. “That settles it! We can even watch a movie and pop some popcorn while we’re down there! I’m going back to my room and grab my sleepwear. I’ll meet you there!” She rushed out of the room with as much gusto as she entered.

Peach shook her head in amusement at her friend before going to her wardrobe to grab her nightgown. As she grabbed the soft pink fabric, she remembered something that gave her pause. Her fellow princess makes Bowser sound like a cat purring contently while visiting Slumberland. Her mind flashed back to when she thought an illegal kart drag race was occurring outside of her castle the last time she and Daisy slept in the same room. Chuckling to herself, she grabbed a couple boxes of earplugs before heading to the entertainment center.

---

Two days later…

“Luigi, you ready?!” Mario called upstairs.

“Almost, Mario! I need to grab one more thing!”

Mario sighed as he shook his head. Yesterday afternoon, Peach invited him and Luigi to a picnic with her and Daisy via letter. The brothers accepted the invitation, of course, but one thing that troubled him was there was no mention of the flowers he and Luigi left in their rooms. He wasn’t sure if the princesses were trying to get them back for it, so he planned to be on full alert in case they had anything plotted.

A minute later, Luigi emerged from their room and met Mario downstairs. Instead of his usual green shirt and cap and blue overalls, he wore a green short-sleeved buttoned shirt with white Bloopers spread across it over a white T-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, a green visor with a green ‘L’ encased in a white circle, white high socks, and a pair of green sneakers. In his hand were a pair of green sunglasses.

“Looking good, little brother!” Mario pointed finger guns at him with a grin.

“The same can be said for you, big bro!” Luigi returned the gesture.

Mario looked down to check his attire, which was similar to Luigi’s except his colors were red instead of green, and his shirt had white mushroom power-ups instead of Bloopers. His sunglasses were perched atop his visor, which had a red ‘M’ in the middle.

“Hey Mario,” Luigi began, “where are we going to meet the princesses? Do they want us to pick them up from the castle?”

Mario shook his head. “The princess texted me a few minutes ago and asked us to meet them at the park. They reserved a section for us ahead of time.”

Luigi nodded, “OK, that means we can head straight there. Let me grab the macaroni salad and drinks real quick!”

~~~

Mario and Luigi kept their eyes peeled for the princesses upon entering the park. Mario smiled at the Toads and friendly Goombas and Koopa Troopas enjoying themselves. There were even three Toad families celebrating birthdays with some festivities. He was happy the weather was ideal for any outdoor activity.

“Mario! Luigi! We’re over here!”

A familiar voice broke Mario out of his appreciative gaze as he looked in the direction from which it came. Princess Peach was waving at him from a picnic area. Mario tapped Luigi on the shoulder and pointed where Peach and Daisy were. The brothers shared a quick nod before racing towards the table. Luigi had to be more cautious since he was carrying the bowl with the macaroni salad. They stopped a few feet short of the area, and Mario’s jaw dropped in appreciation of what awaited him.

Peach was wearing a soft pink sleeveless mini dress with a low neckline. The dress also showcased her long slender legs and hugged her body as if were an additional layer of skin. It was similar to her tennis outfit but more revealing; it appeared one can slightly see-through the fabric, which was some of a shock since Rosalina was the only woman who was more modest than Peach regarding their clothing. That didn’t mean Peach was afraid to show any skin, however. Completing the ensemble was a white sunhat with a pink ribbon around it over her ponytailed hair, gold dangling bracelets from her wrists, and a pair of pink wedge heel platform sandals.

After he returned to normal, Mario quickly checked on Luigi, only to see he was just as mesmerized as him, except his focus was mostly on Daisy. The Sarasaland princess wore an orange sleeveless crisscross blouse that displayed a healthy portion of her flat toned abs, a pair of white shorts that stopped at just above mid-thigh, an orange ribbon around her hair, and a pair of orange wedge heel platform sandals. Mario thought he saw drool form on the corner of Luigi’s lips, and he couldn’t blame him. Daisy was certainly showing more skin than Peach, which was nothing out of the norm for the girls.

“Hey boys!” Daisy approached and greeted them with a hug. Mario returned the hug with little issue. The same couldn’t be said for Luigi, however. It took him a few seconds before he returned Daisy’s hug.

His brain must have short-circuited seeing Daisy’s outfit, Mario snickered to himself. He shook his head from hypocritically thinking that because he had nearly the same reaction when he laid eyes on Peach.

Speaking of whom, she also approached and hugged him and Luigi. Mario was enthralled by her hair's strawberry aroma and the floral scent of her perfume. He complained inwardly when they broke the hug, for he wanted to get lost in her pleasant scents for a little while longer.

“Nice to see the two of you make it!” Peach flashed a huge bright smile, the one that never failed to make Mario weak in the knees. “You guys look great!”

“T-Thanks,” Mario stammered. “So you do two!” He mentally kicked himself for acting like a shy schoolboy talking to his crush for the first time. Luigi was the one who usually behaved in such a manner. Speaking of his brother, his snickers did not escape Mario’s ears, which made Mario chuckle to himself. He would get his revenge on him some time in the near future.

“Glad you seem to think so!” Daisy winked as she struck a flirty pose, causing her blouse to rise some. From the corner of his eye, Mario could’ve sworn he saw a trickle of blood threatening to drop from Luigi’s nose. The poor guy would be gushing a red geyser if Daisy kept this up all day.

“Oh, is that for the picnic?” Peach asked Luigi upon seeing the bowl he was holding. Luigi could only nod weakly in response before stretching his arms towards her. Peach took the bowl with an appreciative close-eyed smile and placed it on the table before returning. She did the same with the drinks Mario forgot he was holding.

“Again, I’m happy you two accepted my invitation to join Daisy and me on this picnic,” Peach addressed the brothers. Her smile then became perter. “We’ll start eating soon but before we do that, however, you know Daisy, Toadette, and I visited Bubblaine two days ago, right?”

Mario gulped heavily, for he figured this was the part where the princesses exact their revenge for the floral surprise that he and Luigi left them. Unable to speak at the moment because of his throat rapidly going dry, he only nodded his head in response.

“Well,” Peach continued, the smile never leaving her face, “during our time there we came across something that we thought both of you would enjoy, so Daisy and I purchased them and wish to give them to you now.”

Mario was caught off-guard since he thought Peach would mention their prank. However, fought off a smile when she told them she and Daisy got them something.

“Oh, you didn’t have to, you know,” Mario nervously rubbed the back of his head.

“You’re right, we didn’t have to,” Daisy interjected, making Mario frown. She then flashed a comforting smile towards the brothers. “But we did anyway because you two are very special to us. As much as Peach and I would love to bless you with them, you two have to shut your eyes first.”

“Wait, do we have to?” Luigi asked in a nearly whiny matter.

“No,” Daisy answered with a small smile. “but Peach and I want to surprise you.” Peach nodded in agreement. “So, unless there are any more questions, could you both please close your eyes for us?”

Mario blinked at the request and was about to raise an objection. When Peach and Daisy flirtatiously batted their eyelashes towards him and Luigi, however, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. Luigi already had his eyes closed, so Mario followed suit, chuckling along the way.

No sooner than he did, he felt something being placed around his neck. The next thing he knew, his visor was removed from his head and replaced with what felt like a round thing that perfectly fit his head shape. This item rubbed gently against his forehead, and a familiar fragrance entered his senses.

“OK, you can open your eyes now!” Peach’s voice sang perkily.

Mario didn’t need to be told twice as his eyes reacquainted themselves with the surrounding sights. He glanced down to see a wide oval-shape necklace made of large pebbles whose polished surfaces glinted prettily under the sun. He turned to face Luigi, who had a similar necklace around his collar, except his pebbles were green. However, something else made his eyes expand curiously. A well-crafted crown of daisies adorned his brother’s head in lieu of his green visor. Seeing Luigi wearing such a thing gave Mario a good notion of what was on his own head, and the thought made him grin despite himself.

“So,” Peach addressed the brothers, “what do you think?”

“Princess, these necklaces are wonderful!” Mario answered happily, with Luigi nodding in agreement. “It’s easy to tell a lot of care was placed in crafting these.”

Peach nodded in confirmation. “We discovered these beautiful multi-colored pebbles at the beach. A friendly Bubblainian noticed and offered to make jewelry from them. We were skeptical at first, but to gain our trust he created this gorgeous pendant from one of the pebbles right in front of us! That was enough for us to want to have some jewelry made. Daisy, Toadette, and I each had pendants made for ourselves, then we decided to have something created for you two.”

“Well, we certainly appreciate you keeping us in mind during your getaway,” Mario smiled. “By the way, I have a feeling I already know the answer, but how was it?”

“It was one of the best trips I’ve ever taken!” Daisy gushed as she leaped in the air. “This was my first time visiting the Seaside Kingdom, and I’ve read a lot of rave reviews about the place. Let me tell you, those reviews did not do it justice! There was so much to do, and the residents there were some of the nicest people you could ever come across. In fact, I’m ready to go back again. Say, why don’t the four of us schedule a future date to visit?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Peach jumped in. “Mario, Luigi, what do you think?”

Mario shared a nod and grin with Luigi before returning his attention to Peach. “You know we’re down to go anywhere with you two, except Isle Delfino!” Everyone chuckled at Mario’s comments.

“Great!” Peach exclaimed happily. “I’ll have to check the calendar and see which date works the best for us!”

“Sounds good, Princess,” Luigi smiled. “I’m happy you two had a great time. Both of you deserve to get away once in a while.”

“Thanks, Weegee!” Daisy grinned cheerfully. However, her grin became gradually more impish. “Speaking of deserving, did you two notice the other thing we gave you?”

Sweat began to decorate Mario’s forehead because he knew this was where the hammer was about to come down. There was zero chance he and Luigi could deny their deed since they left enough evidence for the princesses to ascertain who was responsible.

“Y-Yeah,” Mario blurted out unconfidently.

“Peach and I have to admit your prank was clever,” Daisy stared, the grin never leaving her face. “To do it while we were away even more ingenious. Did you know how long it took us to clean everything up?” Mario and Luigi could only shake their heads.

“I’ll tell you,” Daisy continued, “it took us quite a while. Oh yeah, I should tell you Toadsworth was not too fond of your prank. It took all of Star Haven to stop him from marching to your home and greeting you with his cane upside your heads!”

“Hehe, thanks,” Mario chuckled nervously. “We appreciate that.”

Peach nodded before chiming in, “it wasn’t a total waste, however. We didn’t want to throw those beautiful flowers away, so we came up with ways to preserve them. Some were planted in the castle garden. Others were given away to the people. Also, we helped Minh T. plant a lot of them around the kingdom. We kept some for ourselves. Lastly, we created those crowns for you with the few remaining.”

“T-That’s nice to hear,” Luigi stammered.

“Although we couldn’t sleep in our beds that night thanks to you two, despite us admittedly earning it for what we did to you,” Daisy said, the last part of the sentence spoken quietly, “we like you so much we gave you two gifts instead of the one. Thank your lucky stars Peach and I aren’t completely vindictive!”

Mario and Luigi did nothing but nod. Daisy grinned again with a mischievous glint in her eye as she sauntered towards Luigi, making the younger Mario brother gulp. Her grin spread wider before honking his nose.

“Hey, what…”

A peck on the tip of his nose, leaving an orange kiss mark in the process, instantly silenced what was sure to be a protest from Luigi’s lips. Luigi’s face rapidly became crimson as a droopy-eyed grin spread across his face.

“You’re lucky you’re cute!” Daisy grinned huskily, to which Luigi could only weakly nod.

Mario shook his head while chuckling as Daisy gave Luigi a small hug. He continued to watch them when a pair of hands firmly placed on his shoulders turned him around. Before he could properly react to what was happening, those same hands gently cuffed his cheeks, followed immediately by the softest lips he’s ever felt quickly pressing themselves on the edge of his nose. His face felt like a volcano on the verge of erupting as his eyelids traveled halfway over his eyes.

“Although it was revenge for our actions, it was still a sweet gesture,” Peach spoke softly as her long silky soft fingers tenderly stroked Mario’s cheeks. A bright mirthful grin then flashed on her face. “It looks like we’re even now.”

Mario, like Luigi, only nodded feebly as he remained in a blissful state. If there was one weakness he and Luigi had, it was having their noses kissed, no matter how big or small the pecks. Both princesses knew this, and they weren’t above taking advantage of it when they felt like it. Nonetheless, Mario never complained, for he would never reject nor grow weary of such a thing. Besides, he knew the princesses loved them as well.

“Time for a group selfie!” Daisy’s energetic voice rang in the air as she disrupted the intimacy between Mario and Peach by grabbing their hands. The two of them shared a laugh as they along with Daisy and Luigi posed in front of Daisy’s phone being held by a selfie stick.

“Everyone, give me your brightest smiles! I don’t want to see anyone frowning!” Daisy jokingly admonished. “Ready?! Three…two…one!” A quick light flashed from the phone, indicating the picture being taken.

“OK, one more!” Daisy exclaimed cheerfully. She counted from three again before snapping another picture. This time around, a loud gasp filled the air during the flash.

“I’m sending everyone the pictures now!” Daisy informed everyone.

As soon as she pressed the send button, the familiar chime of the original Super Mario Brothers theme sounded on Mario’s phone. He took it out and opened the attachments from Daisy. The first picture had everyone smiling widely, and Mario chuckled when he saw he had a kiss print in the middle of his nose as well, except his was pink of course. A glance at the second picture had him trying his best not to sound like a hyena. What had him reacting this way was Daisy smooching a red-faced Luigi on the cheek and Luigi leaping with his eyes and mouth open as wide as humanly possible. He knew where the gasp came from at least.

“Did everyone get the pictures?” Daisy asked. The other three confirmed they did with a nod. “Good, because I’m starving! Let’s eat!” She then wrapped an arm around Luigi’s shoulder, making him blush again.

“Come on, sweetie! I hear you make a mean macaroni salad. I want to try it out!”

“Hold on, Daisy! No need to be so eager!” Luigi cried out as Daisy dragged him by the hand towards the picnic table, his heels skidding in the grass.

“That's one battle Luigi will never win!” Mario laughed to himself. A familiar pair of soft hands intimately grabbed his arm, causing him to almost get lost in Peach’s baby blue eyes.

“I’m feeling a little hungry myself,” Peach batted her eyes. “Will you care to accompany me to the table?”

Mario good-naturedly rubbed his chin. “Let me think about it for a second. You know I will, Princess!”

A soft mellifluous laugh flowed from Peach’s lips before she flashed Mario another bright smile that he thought could stand toe-to-toe with the sun. “Well then, let’s-a go before Daisy really gets going!”

“No need to tell me twice, Princess!” Mario laughed as he and Peach walked towards the table holding hands.

Mario reflected on the past few days up to the picnic. While there was a mini prank war between the battle of the sexes, it was all in good nature as neither side went out of their way to deliberately hurt each other. In fact, both pranks showed the respect and admiration each side had for one another. In the end, it could be argued that he and Luigi strengthened their bonds with the princesses when it’s all said and done.

He didn’t know what the future held, but he was going to live in the present and enjoy this moment with his brother and the princesses.

[ddpej]

Autumn Sampler complete!

[Hi-res version]

It's been quite a while, but I'm still alternating a large self-patterned project and @mathysphere samplers as I have time! First up was my version of the Ocean sampler, and now the Autumn sampler has joined the completion pile. As with the ocean one, i did a bonus variation on one of the squares for 17 pieces total.

Technical details under the cut, for those of you interested in such things.

The fabric I used for these was a 28ct evenweave in a muted light brown, stitching two over two. Since I was doing them as individual squares rather than one full piece, I did the borders in backstitch rather than cross-stitch to let the designs shine! I did not bother to keep track of the orientation for each fabric scrap as i went, which is why some are a smidge taller and some a smidge wider. Evenweaves be like that sometimes.

First row: owl, mushrooms, goose, moon All of these were stitched as given, nothing particular to add here! The moon is my favorite of the row. <3

Second row: apples, pumpkin pie, black walnuts, squirrel This row got a few changes. The apples were patterned with a sky-blue background, which I left off and later gave to the squirrel instead. The light brown of the squirrel's body was too close to the fabric color to stand out the way it needed to without some help. I also worked the pie border from the reverse side, to give it a thicker line since it was such a light color (plus a bonus fancy-crust twisted effect).

Third row: produce crates, grasshopper, icy leaf, pumpkin patch This row was also stitched as given. I love the leaf one, but bonus points to the pumpkin patch for feeling particularly fairy-tale!

Fourth row: preserves, campfire, deer, hedgehog This set got a bit of extra backstitch -- I outlined the lids on the preserves jars, and also the hedgehog's face. In both cases, my fabric color was just close enough to the floss colors to muddle things. I very deliberately did not outline the deer, though -- it seemed so much more fitting that they would blend into the background a bit, as they always did in the woods where I grew up. ^_^

Bonus campfire: The campfire was my favorite square of the sampler, and I had a scrap of mottled dark brown fabric sitting around, so I decided to stitch it again! I could not be bothered to dig out waste canvas; instead I just slapped some of the light brown evenweave onto the back of it with a running stitch and worked right through both. Some of the stitches in the center are a little wonky as a result (parallels to the bookmark, Geri! haha) but it came out pretty well! I do wish I'd thought to stitch the middle of the flames in three strands instead of two, to get more intensity of color, but the visible Xs are fun too! The only changes I made from the pattern were leaving off the black background and using black for the border instead of dark red.

[frischkasekuchen]

Dreamtalia Carrie AU - Blood of the Covenant

Credits:

Nevo, Dreamtalia and its characters by kyokyo866

Carrie by Stephen King

Content Warnings:

Swearing

Religion/Christianity

Religious Abuse

Child Abuse

Homophobia (slurs are used)

References to smoking

Starring:

Reve and World as Carrie White (Reve Faucher and Nicholas Major)

Nevo as Margaret White (Nathan Major)

(Author's Note: I spent Lent and partway through Easter working on this fic. This is for the 50th anniversary of Carrie. Beta read by my sister. Please remember to thank Tabitha King for making sure Carrie's story was told and kickstarting King's career. )

 "And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord." - Ephesians 6:4 (King James Bible)

If it wasn’t worth it, if it wasn’t for his only friend, he’d never do this. If the boy didn’t think there was more to life than prayer, the day of Judgement, and papa- he would happily rot in these four walls till some other horrible disaster came.

(tonight)

The word bounced around his head. 

(i am not afraid of him)

Nicholas, for the first time in his life, was going to do something worse than just say fuck under his father’s roof. Something worse than 

(of whom shall i be afraid)

sharing a quarter cigarette with Reve that one evening. But there was that rising nausea, like the same urge to vomit when he first tasted sin- nicotine.

(she gave of me the tree, and I did eat)

Anxiously, 

(flex)

Nicholas made his pocket change swim in the air around the ceiling light, like sharks circling a lone surfer.

“Nicholas!” Papa called, causing him to shoot up from his bed and drop the coins. “Reve has come over for dinner, come downstairs!”

“Coming!”

The boy looked in the mirror. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders the way Alfred does- minus the boisterous, prideful laughter that accompanied the stance. Nicholas marched downstairs, like a soldier to a battlefield.

—

(it was a dark and stormy night)

As Reve surveyed the dinner table one could most definitely compare it to a battlefield. Despite the polite conversation he had with Mr. Major

(what is your favorite proverb)

the air was thick with tension- the boy might as well cut it with a knife so he could breathe a little. 

Things began to escalate when dessert was presented at the table. Nicholas’ father divided a blueberry pie among the three. Its filling looked thick and slimy, with cane sugar crystals. Fresh, bulbous blueberries were packed together and nestled in the crust. 

When Reve took a bite of his share, he puckered his lips. The pastry was too sour and too sweet all at the same time. “It’s great!” Reve said.

However, Nicholas wasn’t having any of it, literally. He just twirled his fork in his right hand, while his left was scratching his pant leg.

“This is new.” Mr. Major said, “You haven’t touched your pie.”

“It makes me have breakouts.” Nicholas answered firmly, pushing the plate away from himself.

Mr. Major let out an ‘I-know-better’ sigh. He pushed the plate back towards his son. “Pimples are the Lord’s way of hindering pride.” 

“Maybe it’s a Sign I should lay off the sweets.”

Reve jumped in an attempt to de-escalate the situation. “I-I wouldn’t mind taking his share! I have a sweet tooth after all.” Personally, it was in the boys best interest to keep the man placated. 

A pregnant pause.

“Actually,” Reve chimed in once more with an eager grin, “Nicky and I have something important to tell you!”

Mr. Major’s eyebrows raised and he hummed in expectation.

Nicholas looked like a deer in headlights, it was as if he forgot what this dinner was for. The boy’s wide eyes told Reve ‘I can’t do this’.

Reve locked his pinky with Nicholas’ own under the table. 

(im here)

It seemed to say.

“Reve and I…”

(spit it out be a man)

“Have been invited to prom!”

The man froze as though struck by the lightning outside. “Prom.” Mr. Major muttered in horror.

“I’m going to support Reve and-” Nicholas gulped for air a moment, “The coach thinks this could be good for us because, y’know, we’re growing up- and stuff.”

The man’s lips moved but neither boy heard what came out his mouth.

Nicholas pressed on, “V- Mr. Bazarov and Ludwig bought us tickets- so you don’t have to spend a cent.” 

“No.” Mr. Major’s voice raised to an audible volume.

Nicholas began a tangent, “People think we’re- Reve and I- are weird, and not the good kind- the bad kind. And I think we need to learn, to- well- get along with everyone else, before it's too late-”

Nicholas was promptly doused with tea as his father threw it across the table. Some of it got onto Reve’s shirt. Fortunately for the two it was lukewarm. Nicholas sputtered and sniffled quietly.

Reve placed his palms on the table to stand up and voice his outrage-

But Nicholas placed a hand on his knuckles and gave a faux-reassuring squeeze. Reve sat back down. Nicholas’ hand stayed

(i just need you here)

right where it was.

“Go to your closet.” the man snarled.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” Nicholas protested.

“After all you’ve been taught- you fraternize with a sodomite?”

“He isn’t a bad person, Papa.” Nicholas muttered as he scrubbed tea out of his eyes.

“The moment you stepped into that shower room-” The man heaved a heavy breath, “You exposed yourself to him, those boys- that filth. And even after you were punished for the Sin of Lustful Thoughts- you went back for more.”

“It-” Reve whimpered in a small voice, “It isn’t like that.” No one heard him.

(my siblings arent bad people im not bad am i)

The man shot out of his seat and thundered over to Nicholas. He gripped the boy’s forearm as though he were a chew toy. Mr. Major’s face appeared disturbingly enchanting, with his blue eyes framed by stringy, pink hair.

(this is too much too mu)

“Come to your closet and pray.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong.”

The man raised his hand to strike at Nicholas. The boy seemed resigned to what would come next.

Reve spent a good quarter of his life just…watching Nicholas be treated like everyone’s ragdoll. But remaining seated as his own father did the same? That was just too much.

The sound of Reve smacking away Nathan’s hand was almost as ear shattering as the sudden thunderclap.

Nicholas looked dumbfounded. The man looked offered. And though he was terrified, Reve stood between father and son.

“Don’t you hit Nicky!” Reve shrieked. “He’s your son- he doesn’t deserve that!”

“You have no right to-”

“I do! He’s important to me!” 

Nicholas had doubted that Reve cared. He thought they were only friends of circumstance, but he’d gone and said that. “Reve…”

Reve was shoved and he slammed against the kitchen counter. 

“Reve!” Nicholas ran over to his side, and shot his father a glare.

“Nicholas.” Papa said in a hushed tone. “Tell that man no.”

“I already said I was going.” Nicholas countered as he got Reve to his feet.

“Then tell him you’ve changed your mind!” Nathan nearly hollered. “Or we’ll move! Move somewhere you’ll never see that boy or that teacher again!”

“No- I won’t!”

“That’s final.” Mr. Major walked away as though he had the last word in. 

“I’m not done!” Nicholas screamed.

“I have to close the window. The rain’s getting in the house.” he marched to a nearby window.

“I’ll get them- just please talk to me!” 

And Nicholas flexed. 

At that moment, Reve felt the house shift. Every window slammed shut, even the one upstairs, and the one Mr. Major was going to close and nearly crushed his fingers. 

A large knife dangled inches away from the man’s face as he cowered in a corner.

Nicholas’ fingers flexed and twitched like a malfunctioning machine.

Reve put a hand on Nicholas’ shoulder. “Nicky,” he murmured, “put the knife down.”

Nicholas breathed a staccato of inhales and exhales through his nose.

Reve wrapped his arms around Nicholas’ shoulders, leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Please put that knife down, Nicky.”

The knife fell to the floor

(not worth it hes not worth it)

with a clatter.

“Witch.” Mr. Major breathed. “Devil’s power.”

Nicholas was sniffling, but without any doubt in his mind he said: “The devil’s got nothing to do with this. It’s me- me.”

“And it’s- he’s amazing.” Reve huffed.

“Nonsense.” Mr. Major rose from his crouch. “The devil is cunning. He gives you things- he tricks you- you know what he did to your mother-”

Nicholas chuckled with mirth. “She ran away, Papa.” 

“She was seduced, she vanished into the night-”

“She ran away. Everyone knows that.”

(she knew she knew you were)

Reve put a hand over his mouth; Nicholas’ life was revealed to be more of a hellhole with every new fact he learned about his friend.

(can anyone tell me what abandonment means)

Nicholas sighed, “And I don’t wanna talk about these things anymore.”

(just wanted to talk like how all the other kids do with their)

Reve looked to Nicholas, his father, and then back to his best friend again. 

“Are ya really sure you wanna go to prom? You don’t gotta go just for me.”

Nicholas smiled at him through the tears, the tea and nodded. He gripped Reve’s hand in his “We’re going.” Nicholas looked at his father. “We’re going to prom.”

And that affirmation is what sealed the boys’ fates.

—

Reve opened his umbrella and stepped out of the doorway.

“Have a good night, Reve.”

Reve nearly stepped off the porch. Instead, he whipped around to face Nicholas. He didn’t notice at the time, but he was crying. “Please- please promise me- that if I leave you alone with him, you’ll still call me in the morning.”

Nicholas was confused, but gave him a grin. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

“People like him- they- what if he-” Reve’s trembling lips stopped that track of words.

(no no i cant say it)

“Papa won’t do that.” For some reason, Reve felt like the other boy was lying through his teeth. “Things are gonna change around here.”

“Saturday night?” Reve sniffled.

Nicholas cupped Reve’s cheeks, stood on his tiptoes, and kissed away Reve’s tears.

He pulled away. “Saturday night.”

Reve nodded, turned away, and found the courage to drag his feet away from the Major bungalow and walk home.

(Author's Note: Sorry if this piece was heavy- the Carrie AU is kind of a personal story to me (aka mad projecting). I just really wanted to do something for a Stephen King anniversary because both his novels and Dreamtalia itself have carried me through tough times. Thank you for reading.)

(P.S Shout out to anyone who got the Utena reference)

[the-clockwork-three]

Day 2: Gur Cake

Also known as Chester Cake in every part of Ireland that is not Dublin

Its a type of bread pudding with pastry on the top and the bottom and a slice could have been bought for a ha'penny (half a penny) throughout most of the nineteenth century in Dublin. It got its name from gurriers, little boys who skipped school and were generally, in my father's words, little thugs. The gur cake was the only cake gurriers could afford in the bakery.

Makes 24.

Ingredients:

8 slices stale bread with the crusts cut off

3 tbsp flour

1⁄2 tsp baking powder

2 tsp mixed spice

100g (1/2 cup) brown sugar

2 tbsp butter

175g currants or mixed dried fruit

1 large egg, beaten

4 tbsp milk

350g shortcrust pastry

icing sugar for sprinkling

Instructions

Soak the bread in a little water for an hour, then squeeze the moisture out. Combine the flour, baking powder, mixed spice, sugar, butter, fruit, beaten egg and milk. Mix well.

Line the bottom of a 22 cm (9 in) square tin with half of the pastry and spread the mixture over, then cover with the remaining pastry. Make a few diagonal gashes across the top and bake at 190°C/375°F/gas mark 5 for about an hour.

Sprinkle the top with sugar and allow to cool in the tin, then cut into 24 small squares.

Recipe taken from:

Tags: @rusalkaandtheshepherdgirl @charlataninred @grimalkinsquill @unseeliethot (ask to be added or removed)

[moremysteriesthantragedies]

Soaked Dreams

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Trigger Warnings for unreality/dream logic, cuts, symbolism connected to periods, flooding, claustrophobic/closed-off spaces, discussion of sexuality, symbolism connecting to sensuality, masturbation, and internalized guilt around sensuality.

It had been a blissful cycle, Florence thought as his fingernails batted against the glass. The light flung all around, its shine shimmering against the tile walls and floor. 

He didn’t have any dreams. They’d disappeared with the urges, which disappeared with the pain. He could continue on as per usual without any strange feelings or doubts circling through his head.

He stopped, the light continuing its swaying before coming to a halt right next to his cheek. His nails were aching, his hair one big knot with all the dried up crust and dirt in it, and his dress had suffered the same fate. Its white hue was long since gone, replaced by a rigid brown. 

He let out a scream, echoing through the shower room he’d found himself in the middle of. Beige tile covered the entire square, the wall lined with shower heads but each station lacked the other necessities these spaces usually contained. There weren't even dividers, the showers easily blending in with one another. 

The room contained no windows, not even blurred ones, shrouding it in shadow except for that singular, dim light. It hung there from the ceiling like it always did, just taunting him with the knowledge it could disappear with the mere blink of an eye. It was all the same place, just with a different coat of paint over it each and every time. 

Florence balled his hand into a fist, sucking in his breath to prepare himself. With a shout, he hit the bulb directly, shattering it into a million pieces that rained down upon him.

It was pitch black, and yet, Florence, "didn’t feel so much as a twinge of pain". Instead he stood deadly still in the darkness, the occasional shifting of his feet causing a crunching sound.

For a long time, other than the sounds of Florence’s own breathing and the clinking of the glass, it was silent.

However, at the presence of footsteps, the showers flickered on. It had caused Florence to yelp, a sudden hissing and cold sensation lashing out from the darkness. He slipped on the glass in his panic, managing to remain upright by the skin of his teeth, and the strength of his upper body.

They sprayed everywhere, washing something away from the tile that Florence could feel pooling at his feet, though he couldn’t place what exactly. They even sprayed Florence, removing the mud and the blood caked along his dress and body. His hair fell on his shoulders, becoming silky once more without even a hint of its previous grime.

The water turned everything back to the way it once was, except for that large stain on the front of Florence’s dress, which remained no matter how much water pelted on it. He could feel it brushing against his legs, chafing his skin and making him squirm. It was so large it almost made the entire front of his skirt stiff. 

The rushing of water echoed in Florence’s ears, followed by that absolute guttural sound. A sob filled the air, dancing off the walls with no clear source or direction to it. If Florence were to follow it, he’d have simply gone in circles and, though he plugged his ears, the sound remained.

“Hello?” he asked, taking a shaking step forward. 

Florence reached out into the darkness, but all his hands found was more water. It bounced off the walls, tickled at his feet, and cascaded over him no matter where he turned. His fingers groped from left to right, up and down, searching for any familiar landmarks to use as a reference. 

What he found instead was…fabric. Fabric which his pinky’s had snagged, becoming attached to two little loops on both sides. The clothing radiated cold, unmoving even as a subtle breath made its way into the air. 

“Don’t fret. I’m here now, and everything is going to be just fine,” a voice said from directly in front of him.

There was the sound of something being screwed in, before, with a few flickers, a light came on. It wasn’t white like the previous one, instead, basking everything in a silver, blue light.

Florence squinted and, for a moment he couldn’t see what was directly in front of him, only the rest of his surroundings. 

By the time the showers had shut off, Florence was soaked, his hair, his eyelashes, and his dress all dripping. All the remaining liquid flowed beneath him, going down the very drain he realized he stood on. It’d brought the glass with it, slipping down that indented ground and stuffing itself in the drain. 

Looking up, the lightbulb was quite clear, able to see a line of water filling its bottom and yet, the electricity never reacted. It remained on, shining through the water that dulled its color. 

As his eyes adjusted, Florence realized that gray figure was standing right in front of him. This was soon followed by Florence looking down at his hands, only to see what his fingers had caught onto. The loops were belt buckles on the man’s jeans, and the rest of his hands had become perfectly splayed over the man’s crotch, as if they were preparing to touch it. 

Florence pulled back, letting out a gasp and slipping to his knees from the slick floor. The man smiled at that, remaining in place and effectively towering over the fallen figure.

“This has been going on for far too long, don’t you think so, dear?” He asked, tilting his head.

Florence attempted to cross his arms, fought against his slumbering nerves to show some gumption. Yet, his arms remained loosely by his sides, the room going silent except for that voice. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t even try to pretend. You know exactly what I am talking about. Now, let’s end this, right here right now, shall we? I assure you it would be painless. All it’d take is a single word from me, and you’d be in pure bliss.”

The showers turned on, though the drizzle was a weak one this time, not managing to reach the two. The man took a step forward, and Florence took one back, shoes squeaking on the floor. 

“Oh? That’s right, you’d want something slower, wouldn’t you? Something that’d let you feel each and every pleasure. You’d like to hear about them, wouldn’t you? All the little sensations you’d feel if you just gave in?”

The drain groaned, so stuffed up with glass it wasn’t so much as making a dent against the water funneling onto the floor. 

Florence remained silent, eyeing the shower heads as he passed them. The water looked deep blue beneath the light, and it felt just as heavy as it looked.

“His arms, so soft around your body, would pull you against his and shield you from all harm. It’d be so warm, melting into his grooves as if they were meant for you, as if they’d been waiting for you all this time,” he whispered against the sound of the gushing faucets. 

Florence fidgeted, a sudden heat embracing his body, as if he'd fallen face first into a mattress. His arms wrapped around himself without his say so, squeezing tight as the sensation only strengthened. 

“What are you doing?” he asked and the man stuck out his hand, as if in an offering.

“Come now, my sweet, you can enjoy it. There’s no shame in enjoying being held as he kisses you. His kisses, so slow, so tender, lips so perfectly taken care of. You can taste that, can’t you? It’s wonderful, it makes you so hungry.”

The glow of the light bulb became more shaded as it continued to be filled with water, blue turning to a light indigo. All at once, Florence’s breath was taken from him, eyes wandering down to the man’s lips. 

“Sto…” Florence began, but the words wouldn’t make it out of his mouth, opening to brush against the droplets. 

The water that touched his body was heated, Florence mouthing the vapor all around him. It tasted like honey, gaining that smooth, lip balm like texture. He wanted to fall back into the mist, vanishing within its touch to meet the unseen figure that now embraced him. His eyes fluttered shut.

“That’s right, kiss him, let things escalate ever so gradually. And, as your lips press more and more together, so do your bodies. The silk of his skin with that layer of soft, soft fuzz, all out in the open and vulnerable, just for you. You rub against it as he lets out happy little breaths, becoming louder, and louder.”

Florence bit down on his finger, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as he had to fight back a noise. His legs were spread open, shoes slipping on the tile as he’d become absent at the sensations present in his lower region. They buzzed with pulsations as, for a good moment or two, they were stimulated by a familiar shape. At least, if that shape had become as pliable as Florence’s surroundings. 

Full bursts of water came out from the hung up shower heads, pelting down onto the scene and making yet another attempt to rid Florence’s dress of that God awful stain. But, it couldn’t be washed out. At that stage, it was too late. The water came up to Florence’s knees without succeeding.

The man stood within the liquid, Florence’s fidgeting creating waves against his legs, though his attention remained solely on Florence. 

“Don’t you want all of that, my love? To become one with someone you hold so dear?”

Florence flinched, stumbling back though his legs felt like lead. It’d taken him a moment to notice that the water had since traveled up to his thighs, skirt floating all around him. 

“Yes,” he whispered, head still foggy from the daydream.

The man’s smile widened and his head tilted. 

“Then why fight that urge?”

“Because,” Florence said, swallowing back the tears, “I’m not stupid. I know exactly why he wants it, I know exactly what he wants from me.”

“And, what is it that he wants?”

More and more water began to pour out, filling the room at an alarming rate and they both had to shout over it. 

“A taste of it. Just a taste is all it takes, then he’ll keep wanting more and more, until it all becomes too much,” Florence said, sinking back in his soaked mess. 

The man came closer, a hand finding Florence’s beneath the surface and pulling it out from below. Water trickled down from Florence’s palm. 

“But what if it didn’t become too much? What if it was what you wanted? Something special, gentle, something that mattered? Why need more when you can have just that?”

"I'd adore that. But it's just…it can't happen, especially not to me," Florence said, shaking his head.

Florence’s hair showed its full length, becoming a plume in the water, just like his dress. 

"And especially not with him?"

When Florence fell silent, the man continued. The water had reached their stomachs. 

“I understand that these desires can be such vulnerable things. Once you let someone satisfy them, you can never go back. That person will become your provider, and you’ll find yourself fantasizing about even more ways to experience such pleasures with them. It’s like an addiction,” his smile widened, “But, is it really enough to keep you away from him, to force yourself to constantly want, trapped with that base desire? I highly doubt it.”

He came closer to Florence, who had gone completely still, placing his hand on his heart. The water was now all the way up to his elbow.

“So, why not use me? I am completely safe, am I not? A figment of your imagination, one that comes with no consequences, or social expectations. You can use me as your experimental toy, one that won’t judge you or force you into anything. I’ll just let you touch, feel, play.”

His voice lowered as he bent over, putting his face within Florence’s reach.

“You want to play with me right now, don’t you?”

There was something about the man’s eyeless face that had Florence shifting closer, so close that he could feel the man’s unnatural chill. His hands placed themselves on the man’s chest, which had puffed out to meet Florence’s touch. Once again, he got the sense that if he pressed too hard, it’d just cave in.

Florence craned his neck, he pressed up on his tippy toes, leaned in for the kiss, and then…

…the showers stopped, Florence faltering back into the now chest level water. It covered his breasts beneath its deep blue surface. 

“I-I can’t. I’m too scared, I can’t,” Florence said, repeating it over and over again.

The man brought his hand up, lifting Florence’s chin to touch their noses together. Florence could feel the fuzz the man had previously discussed, the tip of the man’s nose pressing against his own.

“Why not, my love? It’s safe,” he said, nuzzling Florence as he spoke, “You have nothing to fear, it’s safe.”

Their faces drifted closer and closer together until their lips touched, the man’s arms drifting down to fully embrace Florence. It helped Florence steady as, all at once, he was overcome by so many sensations.

The man smelled of the wind, a fresh smell with several accents one couldn’t quite place, but Florence couldn’t help but breathe it in. He tasted of lavender, Florence pressing against him to get more of that wonderful, soothing flavor. As it strengthened, causing his muscles to relax, Florence’s body fell back into the man’s arms. He was beginning to float atop the water, kept in place thanks to the man’s efforts.

“Safe, safe, safe, you feel so safe,” the man said as his hands submerged themselves beneath the water.

They found the zipper of Florence’s dress, grasping onto it, though not daring to move it from its spot. Instead, the man pulled away to peer into Florence’s face.

"May I?" He asked and Florence was overcome with visions.

Visions of that man’s body pressed against his own, hands running lightly down Florence’s body as if they were the trails of water from before. Florence gave a small nod, cheeks flushing. 

The man unzipped it, slowly brushing it off Florence's shoulders and letting it float away into the water. It took Florence’s tainted undergarments with it, letting out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding as his body did the same.

The man’s eyes felt soft on Florence's body, just as gentle as the water that carried him now. His eyes were transfixed on the man as he stood there.

Florence’s view was temporarily blocked by the man’s arms and, when they moved, the man had become naked as well.

He bent down, looking at the dry blood that coated both the insides of Florence’s legs and the exposed, shaven area below. It was as restrictive as it looked, only slightly cracking with Florence’s movements. 

“Let me clean you off,” the man said, placing his hand lightly on Florence’s thigh.

“Please.”

He reached up, using one hand to clean, the other to submerge Florence’s lower half in the water for an easier time scrubbing. He started at Florence’s legs at first, slowly going up, up, up.

“Soft, soft,” the man kept whispering over and over, making his already gentle touch become as smooth as a breeze.

Those fingers gradually met Florence’s exposed part, beginning to work on its many layers to ease it from its prison. The crust became liquid, falling down and being carried away in chunks. Florence tried not to pay too much attention to them, a task that was made considerably easier thanks to the sensation of the man’s fingers now reaching skin. 

The man’s touch was non intrusive, fingers precise as if they were working with clay, digging deeper and deeper, until their motions developed into a consistent rubbing. Not one bit of crust was left uncleansed. 

Florence stifled a noise, causing the man to pause. Looking into his face, Florence swore he could see Max in his features, mouth slightly agape, and the hint of curious eyes just underneath that shade. But, it was only for a moment, continuing on with the motion, slow with a feather’s amount of pressure.

“Awww, how sweet,” the man said, leaning his head back as his lips parted.

The man made the sound back, holding no weight or true passion behind it, which made it soft within Florence’s ears. The man finished the small section he had to clean before pulling away. His hands had become soaked, and Florence’s freed skin was able to take in the full warmth of the water all around him.

The man placed his hands on Florence's shoulders, chilling the water there before leaning in. Ultimately, Florence was the one to close the gasp, taking a good minute to bask in his scent before doing so. Lips met lips, the man's feeling as delicate as they were sweet. 

When The man pulled away with a grin. He held that floating body in order to pull Florence up against his chest and whisper into Florence's ear. 

"You liked that, didn't you?"

Florence gave a whine, shutting his eyes tight.

"Yes. But, I don't want anything to ruin it," he said, balling his hands into fists.

He refused to open his eyes until the sensations had stopped. Within an instant, the dream was gone, but Florence could have sworn the scent of his flesh was still present.

Taglist: @caxycreations

[radia-chronicles]

Radia at Night.

So I wanted to start with a snippet about Radia itself, because I don't think I can portray the love I feel for this story with my first post better than that and I really want anyone who reads this to feel the setting like I feel it when I think of this place.

Thanks for stopping by!

The street is empty and desolate after the bus pulls away behind you, leaving you alone on the empty main road of Radia. A sharp wind cuts through you as it sends the illegible street sign wailing on broken hinges. When you look up to the sky you see the half moon peeking through lacey clouds. It's going to be a cold night and you've got nowhere to go so you set off at a brisk pace down the damp old cobbled road. Walking helps warm your stiff legs as you rub your hands together, hoping to spark a fire between your palms before using your breath to warm the numbing tips of your fingers. 

Although the night is dark the small buildings that line the main road have flickers of life you can see through wavy glass windows. After walking for a few minutes you're stopped by the sudden sound of raucous laughter pouring from the open door of a small building ahead that had the looks of an old tavern. It was tall and slightly crooked, like most of the buildings down the old road, but it was the mostly lively place you had seen so far. There's chipped paint that may have once held color adorning the windows and doors, but the wooden pillars that made the wide patio were as old and tired as the hand laid stones beneath your feet. The entire building and those surrounding it seemed to be the forgotten past of Radia. Beyond the tavern you could see the old road as it turns to asphalt as it leads through more of the lower city until disappearing among the tall buildings in the center of the modern metropolis ahead. It's curious that the bus dropped you so far from the station which should be closer to the center of Radia, but you have little time to think on it as the smell of warm pies and hot cider wafts out of the inviting glow emanating from the charming inn. Looking at it again you wonder why you thought it looked so run down, the paint is old but now that you've moved closer you can see the patterns of vines twisting around themselves to decorate the clear windows which showed a bright, clean, dining area and bar inside. 

A man leaned in the doorway with a warm smile on his face, watching the livery inside. While you're approaching he turns towards you, as his face turns away from the light inside you see a pair of giant beet red horns curving atop his square head with the tips resting on the soft blonde hair curling at his temples. His smile once soft and easy turned wicked and sharp, locking his burning orange eyes to yours. 

You blink in surprise, but when your vision clears again you see he's wearing a wide brimmed hat and not horns atop his head. His eyes were deep amber, not orange and terrible, but his smile wavered a little as he saw the confusion in your expression. 

He cocks his head to the side before the smile finds its place again and waves his arm in a beckoning fashion at you, "Comin' in?" He hollered even though you were only a few feet away, "It's a cold one tonight," he added in a booming voice that echoed down the street. 

You took a moment to look at the well lit city ahead which was still quite far. It would be too late to get a room at a hotel if you could even make it that far walking, but something about this side of the city gave you pause, there was an aching pit forming in your chest as you realized how empty the street really is. 

The man in the doorway poked at the indecision he could see in your posture while pondering the road beyond, "We've got warm home spiced cider on special and I think Bas just finished up a meat pie with her famous flakey crust."

At that moment your stomach gave a loud grumble and the man laughed, a sound like deep bells that rang through you.

"Your stomach agrees with you, young one! You can walk into the city on the morrow, drink with us tonight." He beckoned, his voice sweet as honey on your ears. Washing away the doubt in a thick layer of sweet, he turned and joined the patrons inside for what sounded like an old drinking song. The laughter and sounds of light conversation was as alluring as water in a desert on this cold night. 

Shaking the daunting image from before out of your mind, return his smile and head towards the bustling inn. You don’t think of how the man’s speech was out of date and awkward, you don’t even see the hooved feet he wasn’t able to disguise fully with his glamour as you walk past him into the bustling room. 

The air in the tavern seemed to weigh down your lungs while you walked into a room of strikingly unusual people. Your eyes are drawn all across the room in what seems like frozen time when the entire room stops to face you. With shaking legs and the hulking man behind you, nudging you further into the room from the door you weave through the tables of the dining area. There was a woman sitting at a large wooden table nearby wearing an elegant nightgown of purest black, hugging her down to midcalf before spilling onto the ground in a puddle of lace. Through the sheer curtain you could see strappy heels so sharp you wondered how she could walk in them. She was watching you cross with a curious expression with eyes were blacker than coal as she swept her gaze up and down you while you passed by. A woman with her hair worn in an intricate head covering next to her leaned across the small gap between them to whisper in her ear. They curved together conspiratorially giggling until you had finally passed them. There were people dressed in head to toe coverings, while others wore unusually formal outfits from ancient eras across the world. In the back corner shrouded in darkness was a pair of piercing green eyes following your route to the bar. 

As you pass by a table playing cards the entire group stops their game to sniff the air as you accidentally brush against the jacket of a burley woman with tattoos on her face. She growled low, making your heart thrum against your chest like a trapped bird. Someone at a nearby table smacks the head of one closest to him and whispers something harshly at the group in a language you couldn’t quite pick up. They picked up their cards again as you pick up the pace and finally get to the counter where the bartender seems to have been waiting for you at the center in front of an empty barstool. She shot a look at the large man sitting in the seat next to it and he sighed before gathering his drink to move over one more so you have an empty seat on each side. 

“Sorry about the crowd here,” she said with a kind smile, giving the dining room a significant look, you hear the bustle finally pick back up behind you as they seemingly got the message, “We don’t get many out of towners around here.”

She waved the words away before you could even say them, sending her short hair bouncing around her head. It's such a deep brown it seems to glow red in the lamplight as she tosses her head back with a grin. 

“That backpack looks big enough to carry me and it doesn’t look like the only thing that’s weighing those shoulders down, my friend.” as she spoke she was grabbing a glass and a cocktail shaker with one hand and various colored bottles with the other. “Now toss that thing down and take a seat, here,” she nodded at the seat in front of her while tipping the bottles upside down into the shaker with one hand.

She was right, she probably could fit into the pack you’ve been carrying as she was probably only just over five feet tall and you did put your entire life it before getting on that bus. The bartender kept on bustling along, filling trays for the server who swept past you in a flurry of white fluffy hair as she ran orders around the dining room. Your bag was getting heavier by the second so you finally ease the straps off your shoulders before settling on the worn wooden barstool. 

The bartender popped back up in front of you the moment you sat down, her deep russet skin drank in the flickering candle-light that shone from the wrought iron chandelier above. 

Wait, weren't they light-bulbs earlier? 

You look back at the dark chandelier and see clear bright bulbs shining down among the maze of twisting bars. You begin to feel an ache forming behind your eyes as you think hard trying to remember what you saw.

 “So,” the bartender said, breaking the train of thought. Her slender eyebrow arched when you looked back at her with a start. 

“You alright there? You must be exhausted from your travels, we’ll get you set up with a room alright?” she motioned to the server and mumbled something to her out of ear shot and before you could even blink she’s back in front of you. 

“Sorry about that, I was telling Cat to get a room prepped for you. The bus dropped you down here in the dead of night rather than go all the way to the city didn’t it?” 

You nod, the ache seemingly gone from your head thankfully as you look at the bartender for the first time. Her hair is short, but curled slightly at the ends making them bounce with each step she took. Her eyes are a light hazel like autumn leaves that pull your gaze like a magnet, it’s hard not to lean forward too much as her attention leaves you breathless for the moment. 

She spoke again and you could feel the air break in your lungs, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding. 

“Pah! Lazy drivers, I swear people get lost here all the time because of it." She wiped her hands with a rag, looking off into nowhere before she snapped back, "Well I won’t ask you what brings you to Radia. Gods know this place was built on a tomb and forgotten about. All sorts of dark things happen here..” she started to make another drink as she spoke, this one in a tall glass using some sort of green liquor and fizzy water. Your eyes followed her movements as she talked in a low tone. Her words forming a daunting knot in your stomach, “You may not know it, but this is a dangerous city. Do you know how many people have gone missing in this place?" Her smile grew wider and she gave the shaker a final SLAM on the counter, you watch paralyzed by a fear you know was given to you for a reason. 

She continued finally, her voice low, while gently pouring the green fizzing cocktail into a tall clear glass, "But people just keep on coming don't they." You see a little regret in her eyes before it's gone and the playful light returns. 

She plops a cherry in the lime green foam that gathered atop top liquid, nearly spilling the contents over before sliding the drink across the space between you. She shook her head at you as you darted for your wallet, hoping to end the interaction as quickly as possible. 

"Now, now, none of that. We'll settle up later, enjoy the drink." Her wink sends a jolt down your spine and she's off again to help someone on the other end of the bar.

With nothing left to do and the feeling of eyes prickling on the back of your neck you take a tentative sip of the cocktail. Despite it smelling like oven cleaner, it surprisingly doesn't taste alcoholic at all. It's like fresh cut grass and floral mint before ending with a slightly sweet berry taste. After a few more healthy swallows you begin to feel pleasantly light headed, the room shifts and so do the people in it. 

How much time has passed? It's hard to say as you sit in the stool at the now rowdy bar, has the drink been refilling itself? You attempt to pondered that thought as it slid from your mind as quickly as it came. Were you supposed to be leaving? No no no, there's still drink in your glass, you take another swallow and look around. 

There were two men dancing by the music box, their movements slow and hypnotizing against the dissonant chords. 

What kind of music is that? It sounds like wailing pipes and broken violin strings being grinded into dust to you, but after a few more sips you hear the chords from some pop song thats been on the radio a few times. You shrug the thought off and return to the brimming drink in your hand. 

A few people brush by behind you, ghostly fingers trailing fire along the back of your neck as they slide through the crowded taproom. You snap back to look at who it was, but nobody's there. 

As you're looking behind you the dark corner catches your eye again, but instead of smokey blackness you see a woman with a large mane of purple hair watching you with the same piercing emerald eyes. There was a smile playing at the edge of her lips as she lifts her glass up towards you with a small bow to her head. Confused, you raise your drink, with your hand only trembling slightly, back towards her with a nod. An overly wide grin nearly cracked her face in half before she tipped her glass over, dumping the contents across the table in front of her laughing like a deranged clown. Her eyes shifted from deep green to a violent ochre like a fire eating the forest. 

You quickly swivel back to the bar, trying to ignore the roaring laughter growing behind you. Someone passing by joins the laughter while slapping you on the back with such force you're sent spilling into the counter, breaking the glass against the old grained wood as you desperately try to unlock your chest from the force of it. Your eyes were glued to the green fizzing liquid as it seeped into the bar, focusing on breathing in and out. 

"Don't mind her," the bartender's voice seemed to help slow the frantic beating of your heart. The breaths came easier but your head was still swimming from the drink. 

"She's a lot nicer than she looks," her hazel eyes flicked to the back corner, raising her voice enough to be heard, "Even though SHE'S BAT SHIT CRAZY." Almost yelling the last bit, her face drawn in mock surprise at being overheard. Or at least you assume the purple haired woman heard by the change in her laugh from high pitched, to a deep genuine chuckle before trailing off into, "La-de daw daw daaaaaaaaaaa." And finally silence from behind you. 

When you finally look back up at the small red haired woman you can feel a weight to her gaze. 

"Look, friend," She said in a lower voice to you, "You look tired, let's get you to bed huh? Cat's got your room ready." 

As she spoke she was leaning over the counter further and further, her voice almost a whisper now, almost touching her tawny nose to yours. 

"I hope you know what kind of place you're in now." Her breath was hot against your face, but smelled slightly of campfires and fresh water, "Tomorrow, you leave Radia. Never come back." Her eyes were alit with a fire making them burn with yellow intensity, "This place is the playground of Daemon's and God's. The humans here are hardened, but never safe. Leave this place on the morrow," She whispered, your vision was fading at the edges in a black fog. 

"This city is a graveyard for humans like you, but you'd be lucky to stay dead here." 

The last word trailed through your mind as you descend into a black sleep. You feel hands upon your head, a delicate touch on your forehead lowering you down into rest. 

When you awake you're lying in the center of what was once the bustling dining room of the inn, but a layer of dust lay thick upon the furniture. Some pieces are knocked over with webs of time built on them and no footprints on the grimy floor, but your own. The only clean spot was your seat at the counter, you stare at the remains of the glass you broke on the counter. It was gray with age and not a fleck of moisture on it. 

Your eyes trail up the shelves that were not empty of liquor until you see a sign you didn't notice last night. It was old, but cleaner than everything around it, with "Charon's Coin Inn" painted in bold black letters. A chill ran down your spine as you read the name of the ferryman to the Underworld. She told you to run, but something within you kindled at the thought of staying. 

Tentatively you reach into your pocket to pull out a silver coin. With your eyes trained on the sign, and your hand only slightly trembling, you slap the coin on the counter with an open palm. 

The clank of the coin reverberating in the empty room is the last thing you hear, save for the high pitched laughter of the woman in the corner before the floor falls from beneath you. 

[ilymtl]

"Boy" and "Girl" Little

So I'm technically agender, I call myself queer because its just easier but I don't mind what pronouns are used. However, I've noticed that a when I'm little there seems to be an overlap sure but more defined "boy mode" and "girl mode" for whatever reason so I thought I'd write down lists for both

"Boy" little:

Green and blue, orange or earth tone kinda colours

Foresty

Usually slightly older seeming than "Girl" little but still likes paci's and things like that

Little gear: stuffies, rompers, paci, sippy cup

Animals: Bears, Octopus, Puppies, Highland Cows

Video games: Kingdom Hearts, Spyro, Legend of Zelda, Destiny, Final Fantasy, World of Warcraft, Pokemon

TV Shows/Films: Anime, Adventure Time, Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends, How to Train your Dragon, Avatar the last Airbender, Scooby Doo, Peter Rabbit, Winnie the Pooh, Studio Ghibli, Bluey, Care Bears, Moomins

Disney: Winnie the Pooh, Robin Hood, Peter Pan, Monsters Inc, Lilo & Stitch, Treasure Planet, Cars, The Nightmare before Christmas, Raya, The Lion King (2), Brother Bear, Ratatouille, WALL-E, Marvel, Star Wars,

Activities: Playing video games, colouring/drawing, journaling, building forts, reading or being read to, cinema, days out

Clothes: Dungarees (also short dungarees), dinosaur t-shirts/rompers etc. Space t-shirts/rompers etc. Teddy bear t-shirts/rompers etc. Oversized hoodies and jumpers

Likes: Dinosaurs, space, fantasy, dragons, superheroes, star machines, lofi, spooky stuff, aquatic animals, mythology, cute nicknames, pens and stationary

Food and treats: sammiches, soup, apple juice, fruits like grapes, apple, mango, watermelon, dairy free babybel, chicken nuggets. squares, discos

Dislikes: clowns, nightmares, the dark, feeling dumb or embarassed, crowded places, public transport

Things I wanna try: going to a museum or something with space/dinosaurs, journaling as little, teaching stuffies something

Trauma response: Anxious, just goes along with things, disengaged, biting and chewing lip or playing with fingers, embarrassed when attention brought to things

"Girl" little:

Pastel colours, specifically pink, yellow

Anything cutesy and sweet

Little gear: diaper, paci, bottle, maybe teether to stop biting my lip at some point, maybe mittens to mimic little hands too, stuffies, little space, rompers, couple of little outfits

Animals: Bears, Kitties, Octopus, Bunnies, Bees,

Video games: Disney Dreamlight Valley, Ooblets, Animal Crossing, Pokemon,

TV Shows/Films: Anime like Sailor Moon, Cardcaptor Sakura, Glitterforce etc. My Little Pony, Adventure Time, PowerPuff Girls, Peter Rabbit, Molang, Paddington, Winnie the Pooh, Hilda, Studio Ghibli, Bluey, Bee and Puppycat, Care Bears, Moomins

Disney: Winnie the Pooh, Raya, Lilo & Stitch, Monsters Inc, Peter Pan, The Aristocats, Dumbo, The Nightmare before Christmas, Brother Bear, Beauty & the Beast, Tangled, Moana. Wreck it Ralph, Bambi

Activities: Colouring, journaling, picnics, sleepovers/building forts, tea parties, baking, getting read stories, naming things, doing kiddie worksheets

Clothes: dresses, skirts, rompers, diapers, animal ears and tails, long socks/fluffy socks, black clothes with cute diapers or pastel coloured clothes

Food and treats: sammiches but with the crusts cut off, soup, apple juice, dairy free strawberry milk, fruit like raspberries, strawberries, bananas, watermelon, dairy free babybel, chicken nuggets, vegan lil chocolate bars, vegan ice cream, vegan yoghurt pots

Likes: Princessy things, fairies, woodland animals, flowers (sunflowers, cherry blossoms. lavender etc.), stuffies, fairy lights, cute clothes, stickers, Sanrio, squishmallows, dinosaurs but not the scary ones, cute spooky like black cats, lofi, fairytales and witchy, cute nicknames, cute pens and stationary, anything sweet and cute

Dislikes: shouting, loud noises, anyone being sad, nightmares, the dark, clowns, most men if really regressed, sometimes people in general except one person, feeling embarrassed, crowded places, public transport

Things I wanna try: stuffie tea party, baking, blanket stuffie, talking to stuffies more opnely, journaling as little, having specific little plates, spoons etc. Daddy teaching me something, talking little

Trauma response: teary, anxious, scared, non verbal sometimes, cuddly with certain person, needs comfort and soft things and babied and scooped up/pulled in, embarrassed when attention brought to things

[secrets-of-harpocrates]

The Dixie Ironheart Story

Pairing: Jake Peralta/Rosa Diaz (+background Jake/Amy)

Tags: Pre-canon, Crack Treated Seriously, Gun Play, Roleplay, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Platonic Sex, Aftercare

Word Count: 8.3k

Description: Jake and Rosa let slip about an embarrassing secret from their academy days.

“I’m sorry it had to come to this… I only wish that in your final moments, you’d have even a shot at redemption. But after figuring out you’ve been using your job as bartender as a cover for poisoning your victims drinks, lets just say… I’ll take revenge served long.”

Jake shoots twice, the bullets landing right on target. Lifting the barrel to his lips, he blows away the little wisp of smoke that curled out from the barrel. And then, with a grave sense of satisfaction, he lowers his gun.

The deed… Was done.

“Lame,” Rosa cuts in from Jake’s right, not even sparing him a glance as she adjusts her firing goggles and lines up her target. 

“C’mon, you ruined my moment!” He rounds on her, throwing his hands up in disbelief, but she keeps her eyes fixed ahead.

“What moment? You’re not even trying to take this seriously, you’re just screwing around.” 

“Uh, not true. Watch this.” He raises his gun again, lines it up, and fires three shots in close succession – two at the wooden outline’s crotch, and one square between the eyes. He turns back to her with a cocky grin. 

“Both balls and the brain – or as I like to call it, The Jake Peralta Special. Who’s screwing around now, Rosa?” He fires back. Rosa reloads with a huff.

“Still you.” She grumbles.

“Look, can we all just stay focussed? Some of you are here to get your licences renewed, so let’s just do that so we can all get back to the precinct, and get back to work.” Terry cuts in from somewhere behind them. 

“Calm down Sarge, we’ll be fine. We’ve passed this test before, doing it again is easy as pie.” Jake replies breezily. 

“Actually Jake, pie can be pretty complicated to make. I mean sure, it depends on what kind of crust you’re going for, and the consistency of the filling, but–”

“ You’re the only one who’s not here to pass the test, Peralta!” Terry barks over Boyle’s yammering, ignoring the early suggestion to calm down altogether. “You got your licence renewed four months ago, you shouldn’t even be here!”

“What? We got ours renewed together a couple of years ago. You’re only due for renewal every three years, why did you do it so early?” Amy chimes in from Jake’s left. She’s also talking with her eyes glued forward, intensely focussed on getting everything right, as per usual.

“Oh, excuse me for wanting to get it done in a timely fashion,” Jake replies sarcastically, firing another headshot and finding himself unable (and unwilling) to hide the proud grin that slips on to his face. God, he was good. If you forget about that one time he shot a portrait of Margeret Thatcher thinking it was a real person, but he's pretty sure no one saw that anyways.

“You also got your licence renewed nine months before that,” Terry went on. “Yeah, that's right, who do you think’s in charge of all that paperwork?” 

“Jake, you’re great with guns, why do you feel the need to get tested so often?” Says Boyle. Then, with an air of intense admiration in his voice– “Are you trying to work your way up to the role of sniper?”

“He just wants to show off,” Rosa replies before Jake has a chance to defend himself. Which he definitely could have, just for the record (even if what Rosa was saying was teeechnically kind of sort of true).

“Aren’t you gonna show off a little too?” The voice that cuts in next is Gina. A civilian who has no reason to be at a shooting range, but who had been enticed by the self-imposed challenge of trying to get Sergeant Jeffords to pick up a gun. 

“Seems a shame you’ve got all those muscles handy, but no way to use ‘em…” She went on in her signature drawl, and even though Jake can’t see her, he can just imagine the way she’s shamelessly eying up Terry’s beautiful globed shoulders right about now.

“For the last time, I am here to make sure none of you idiots injure each other. My job is to keep everyone safe, and then get everyone back to work. My licence is good.” Terry protests.

“Aww, but I bet you look so awesome and powerful when you do it, like a Giorgio Armani ad…” Gina whines. “Besides, what are you afraid’s gonna happen? I mean, do you seriously think we can’t take care of ourselves? Careful Jake! Amy might shoot you.” She says sardonically. Jake hears Rosa huff - which was the closest she ever gets to laughing - as she pushes in a fresh magazine.

“Go ahead, he’d be into it.” She snarks.

He whips his head around to face her.

“Sorry, what was that?” He asks, watching a no-good smirk crawl across Rosa’s mouth. Ugh, Rosa’s mouth, the place good intent goes to die!

“You know what,” She replies, and Jake barely succeeds in squashing the look of vaguely mortified horror off of his face within the half a second it would have taken to show.

“Oh yeah?” He shoots back, intent now to double down. Talking his way out of trouble was never really his strong suit, but he’d been getting really good at talking his way in to more trouble which somehow always cancelled out the first lot of trouble, so this was worth a shot. “We’re going there? Cause I’ll go there. I can go there aaaalll day, sister.”

He watches her look of triumph crack and start to fall. His goading seems to be working.

“Nevermind.” Rosa mutters, but Jake - probably despite his better judgement - decides to keep on pushing.

“Nuh-uh, you brought it up, Diaz, now you’ve gotta see it through. Come on, what’re you waiting for? We’re all listening.”

“I changed my mind!” She barks, firing a couple of shots for good measure. Jake decides to back down – angering Rosa while she’s holding a gun feels like a distinctly bad idea for everyone currently within range, and he decides Santiago and Boyle don’t deserve to die for his sins, unless it would be really really cool and lead on perfectly to a revenge plot. When he turns back to face his own target again, Amy has leaned over, putting a temporary pause on her own round of bullets.

“What was that all about?” She asks, but Jake just shrugs. Letting the topic drop is better for him really, plus he can’t use it to bring Rosa down now that she’s checked out of the conversation and is instead taking out what’s left of her frustration on the wooden cutout in front of her.

“Nothing,” He replies, and soon after they all lapse back into steady silence, punctuated by the firing of their guns.

****

The rest of the day passes uneventfully after returning from the shooting range. For the most part, it seems like everyone’s forgotten Rosa’s earlier slip of the tongue and that things are proceeding like normal. So when Jake and Rosa enter the bar together, hot off the back of the case they’d been assigned together, Jake is ever so slightly confused as to why Gina, Santiago, and Boyle are all crowded together at the bar whispering intensely. And, judging from Charles’ signature flush - this is not the first drink they’ve shared over the topic.

“Hey guys,” He opens as he approaches them, his eyebrows pinching together when all three of their heads whip around with alarm.

“Jake!” Amy says, like she wasn’t expecting to see him here, at the bar they routinely frequent.

“We weren’t talking about you just now,” Charles cuts in unhelpfully, earning him a glare from the others. Oh yeah, he’s definitely drunk.

“Okay, what’s going on? You guys look like you’re plotting a murder. Oh my God, is it my murder? Are you gonna kill me?” Jake gasps, placing a hand over his chest in mock shock.

Charles and Amy look between each other uncomfortably, until Gina leans forward with a drunken lack of grace and announces–

“We solved the case, ya dingus!”

“Case? What case?” Rosa asks, and now Charles and Amy look torn between letting Gina keep on doing the talking that they clearly don’t want to, or pulling her back into her seat and taping her mouth shut. A thing which many people are tempted to do when Gina speaks. In the end, she keeps talking before anyone has a chance to stop her, another thing that is common with her.

“The case of why Rosa,” She points cumbersomely at her, “Said Jake,” She swings her finger round to him. “Would be into it if Amy shot him, duh-doy.” Her sentence ends with her finger angled at Amy – or a little to the left of her, she seems too drunk to notice – and Amy’s flushed face pales a little in alarm.

“Which I would never do by the way! The examiner said I had a very steady trigger finger,” She clarifies, and Jake doesn’t miss the small, proud smile that creeps nervously onto her face as she says that last part.

He hadn’t expected one throw away sentence to take up so much of their attention, and neither had Rosa, from the matching look of surprise on her face too, although hers looks more like vaguely angry judgement than anything.

“I don't believe that,” She says dully. “Let’s hear it.”

“Wait, huh?” Jake rounds on her, but all the attention is now on Charles, who seems to have taken the mantle from Gina re: delivering shocking information.

“Jake,” He begins solemnly, and Jake knows this is not going to be good. “The truth is… You’re about to go undercover again. Your work with the mafia isn’t done – in fact this time, it’s not just the Italian mafia you have to worry about. Their ties to the Ukranian mafia are starting to show, and this time you’re gonna have to fake your death just to get away with it! It’s a risky case, but I understand why they’d give it to you. You're the best there is, Jakey. I just…” He hangs his head a little bit, and Jake realises with horror that he really looks like he’s about to cry right now. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do without my number two!”

Okay, gross , but more importantly– “What? No, Boyle, I’m not faking my death!” Jake exclaims. “Seriously, aren’t you guys meant to be detectives? What kind of lousy reasoning is that? The Ukranian Mafia, are you kidding me?? ”

“But Jake!” Cries Charles, seemingly inconsolable. “That’s exactly what someone planning to fake their death would say! So that when it really does happen, we’ll all believe it!”

“I don’t think I could take another six months without you around, Peralta…” Amy sadly confesses, probably because she’s got a few drinks in her, but it still makes Jake’s chest squeeze. He sighs and looks towards Rosa with a pleading look on his face.

“Okay, fine,” She relents, “We’ll tell you how it really went down, but only because it’s somehow less stupid and unbelievable than your dumbass theory.”

“Yeah. And remember, this isn’t gonna be easy for either of us, so take it with some grace, okay?” Jake adds, spreading his hands placatingly in front of him as if to prepare them for what they're about to hear.

There’s a suspenseful pause. Jake thinks Gina might be recording covertly on her phone, but then again, when isn’t she? Rosa’s face is completely blank and unreadable.

And then, just when he feels like he’s about to explode from the weird anticipation she’s steeped them all in, she finally speaks.

“Jake is into gun play.” She says, and everyone reacts loudly and at once.

After a few calamitous seconds, Jake manages to shout over them all. “No no no no no, you are not going this again! No leaving stuff out!” He points an accusatory finger at her. Rosa looks at them, her scowl growing, which Jake knows means his threat is working.

“Throw me under the bus, and I’m taking you down with me sister.” He adds in a seething whisper, then kind of wishes he hadn’t. He blames it on the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

Rosa rolls her eyes so hard they threaten to disappear back into her skull for a second, and then groans. “Fine,” She says. “Back in our academy days, Peralta begged me to indulge his weirdo fantasy, and I did. There. Not my proudest moment, but there, I said it,”

“Come on, I did not beg, ” Jake scoffs, his eyes darting around the table. He feels like he shifts his weight like a hundred times in one breath, somehow, and he’s pretty sure he's moving too much and– yeah okay, this is weird, he looks weird, “That’s– ridiculous–”

“Ooh– did you do the thing where you shove it all the way up his butt?” Charles says with way too much interest and way not enough disgust, which - I guess successfully? - draws the attention away again.

“What? No! Jesus,” Jake responds, slightly horrified. “Look, if we’re going to talk about it, we have to at least do it properly. Here, I’ll start. It was a cold winter’s eve in the belly of Brooklyn, New York–”

“Shut up,” Rosa cuts through his dramatic retelling before it’s even begun. She takes a bracing mouthful of her drink - a large, large mouthful - then places it down very firmly. She takes a deep breath.

“Back at the police academy, the night we finally got our gun licences…”

They waltz through the door of Rosa’s apartment together, light on their feet despite the bottles of cheap alcohol shoved into their academy-issue heavy-duty backpacks. Jake is practically floating – has been the past few weeks. Since the moment they first heard that they’d be starting their firearms training, he’s been darting all over the place like a kid the night before Christmas. She supposes it’s good that he’s passionate, not that passion is ever really something Jake lacks when it comes to police work (although he did try and bribe her into doing his last written test for him, which she denied. One shirtless picture of the hot commandant from the male locker rooms was not gonna be enough to sway her this time.) But Rosa was pretty sure she caught him posing with his on-loan firearm in the reflection of the academy windows more than once now, which was admittedly kinda weird.

“I can’t believe we both passed! First try too, God we are good,” He beams, kicking off his shoes untidily as he steps inside. A part of her hates inviting him over as often as she does – he leaves his shit all over the place and then just shows up to take it all back, often late at night and usually without warning. But whenever she chews him out for it, he just pouts and clutches his heart in mock sadness and says ‘And I thought we were friends, Rosa Diaz…’ which she supposes, reluctantly, is true.

After all, there’s no one else at the academy who will put up with her. So putting up with Jake is the price she’s gonna have to pay if she doesn’t want to celebrate this victory alone. And she doesn’t, not when she has something she desperately needs to show off.

“I know. And hey, check it out. I bought something to celebrate,” Rosa says, heading over to the small cabinet in her bedside drawer.

Unlocking it, she pulls something out, but keeps it hidden from him until she turns around. She doesn’t need to, but she wants to build up some suspense. It’ll make the stupid starry-eyed look on his face that much better. 

“No way,” Jake beams as soon as she turns around, “You bought one? Already?” A grin splits across his face as soon as the handgun comes into view. “Wait, when did you buy that? You were with me the entire day, weren’t you?”

Rosa shrugs slightly, slipping off her jacket and setting her bag down in the corner. It’s a tiny, shitty apartment - the only kind a 21 year old in New York could afford - so all the rooms kind of blend together. Bedroom, living room, kitchen – you could probably lie down with your feet touching one wall and your fingers would touch the other, but hey. It’s hers.

“Okay, I might have bought it… Last week.” She admits. “But you don’t need a licence for that.”

Jake’s eyes are wide and glued to the gun. It’s not even that flashy, but here he is predictably enthralled by it. All those shitty cop movies must have really rotted his brain, Rosa thinks, scoffing quietly at the way his eyes follow when she moves the gun side to side in front of her.

“So cool… Can I hold it?” He blurts out, and Rosa quickly shifts it out of his reach before his hands can gravitate towards it of their own accord. 

“No,” She says. “You can get your own. You’re licensed now,” A sly smile creeps over her face as she says that, and she watches Jake’s face light up somehow further.

“I can’t believe the day has finally come… I mean, do you know how long I’ve wanted this? Think of all the cool one-liners I can use now!”

“Ugh, I’d rather not,” Rosa says as Jake stoops to start pulling bottles out of their bags. There’s no table suitably big enough to put them that isn’t still covered in the remains of the takeout they’d eaten here last night, so he just starts putting them on the floor. Considering that’s the only place there really is to sit aside from the bed, it makes for as good a spot as any.

“What, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t feel cool when you hold one, right?” Jake pushes. He mimes holding a gun in some sort of cringe pose for a moment. “NYPD, put your hands in the air!.. Yeah? No?” His stupid grin is starting to win her over despite her best efforts, and she lifts up the gun and stands a little straighter.

“Yeah, alright. I guess I know what you mean. Makes me feel powerful, y’know? In control.”

“Totally, totally… Oh hey!” Jake looks up at her from the floor. “I have an idea! We should roleplay!”

“We should what now?”

“Come on, it’ll be fun! I’ll be the perp, you be the officer, here,” He says as he starts pulling the rest of the bottles out of the bag hastily.

“What are you doing?” She asks.

“You’ve gotta get your intimidating act down! You don’t wanna embarrass yourself in front of a real criminal, do you?”

She rolls her eyes at him. “Jake, I am not gonna roleplay with you. Look, you may be into all that nerdy theatre kid shit, but I’m not,” It seems to be too late though, because when Jake looks back up at her, still crouched close to the floor, he’s got a stupid look on his face that Rosa knows means trouble.

“So you’ve caught me at last, Dixie Ironheart,” He starts in some stupid, put-on voice half an octave deeper than his own. Yeah, of course he names me something like that. I wonder if it’s too late to kick him out, she thinks. “Well I hope you’ve come prepared, because I - Hendrick Fullthrottle, renowned jewel thief and cat burglar, won’t go down without a fight.”

Jake eyes the gun, expecting her to play along.

“I’m not pointing the gun at you,” She says back, hanging on to her patience by a thread. “Okay? It’s fun, but it’s not a toy.”

“Oh, so you admit defeat, do you?” Jake fires back cockily. “Very well, but that means I’m making off with the three hundred pounds of genuine diamond stolen from this here safe!” He starts shoving the bottles back into the bag, which physically hurts to watch. This would be so much easier to stomach drunk. Which they’d already be on their way towards if Jake hadn’t sprung this weirdo roleplay thing on her all of a sudden. “I hope you like the taste of defeat, Miss Ironheart, because–”

“Jake,” Rosa begins, but he pays her no mind, just rambling on in that stupid voice as he stashes away bottle after bottle.

“--The sting of this misstep will be sure to follow you for the rest of your lonely life!”

“Jake, stop being an idiot.” She sighs, her exasperation growing. It’s times like these she’s forced to re-evaluate whether it’s really worth it keeping him around.

“The only idiot here is you, you swine, for thinking you could take me down so easily! I mean, do you even have a weapon?” He goes on, eying the gun very pointedly now. When Rosa makes no move to lift it, he zips the backpack shut and turns to her. “Okay, I’ll just take my bags upon bags of stolen, precious good into this here getaway van, where I will swiftly–”

“Jake!”

“I do not know this Jake you speak of!” He barks quickly, flashing a toothy grin. “I am Hendrick Fullthrottle, star of the diamond thieving circuit, king of the–”

Rosa clocks the gun and points it directly at him. He stiffens up immediately, a nervous smile slipping onto his face as the bag in his hands clatters to the floor. If he smashed any of those, I swear I’m gonna kill him. 

“Gonna shut up now?” Rosa asks. Jake squirms, his eyes fixated on the gun. His throat bobs. She wonders if he feels threatened. She wonders if that makes her feel weirdly good for some reason.

“Well,” That stupid voice slips out of his mouth again. “It seems Ironheart knows how to play.” 

“Peralta!” Rosa snaps, advancing on him suddenly. Jake springs to his feet, hands in the air, and he stumbles backwards until he collides roughly with her dresser.

“What is going on with you? Even you’re not committed enough to the bit to risk me shooting you between the eyes,” She growls. 

He shrugs, seeming nervous. When he opens his mouth, he’s still in character, but the stupid voice has slipped away for the most part, like he can’t keep up the energy to maintain it properly anymore.

“It looks like you’ve got ol’ Fullthrottle cornered,” He forces out. “Okay, I fold. So tell me - do you want me dead? Or alive.” His eyes widen with performative gravitas, that wide, toothy smile not slipping from his face for a second. She supposes it’s just because he’s been caught off guard, but it’s unnerving all the same. The damn weirdo almost looks like he’s enjoying this.

Rosa squints. Maybe there is some fun to be had in this, kind of. It’s not everyday she can aim a gun at someone she finds annoying without being told off for it, after all. So she adjusts her grip, watches Jake’s eyes track even that tiny movement, and says–

“Dead,” with finality. “You annoy me. Now turn around,”

“Oo, are you going to make this quick?” Jake whispers, way too interested in the answer for her liking.

“You’ll find out,” Rosa responds. Then, with slow, anticipatory movements, Jake turns his back towards her. She can see his hands shake a bit. Eventually, he’s faced entirely away, the gun still pointed at the back of his head. He hears her take the safety off.

“Finger’s on the trigger,” Rosa says, and it is, because she wants to see how far she can take this now. It’s totally not because it makes her feel cool and powerful and in control, things that - in her rigorous everyday made up of forced subordination and mandated training exercises - she feels she is severely lacking.

“I’m– lining up my sight,” She says. It does feel kind of weird to be roleplaying like this, but her curiosity has won out over the part of her that’s cringing inside. Jake’s shoulders have gone tense, he’s bracing his hands against the dresser, if Rosa tilts her head she can see his knuckles have started to turn white. She thinks he might just be acting, but there’s a little part of her that feels weirdly proud at the thought that he might actually be scared of her.

“Any last words?” She says then, because damn. It does feel cool to practice saying that, at least.

When Jake speaks, his voice comes fast, breathy, and entirely like his own again. 

“Nope, uh just– nope. I’m good.”

Dragging out each moment, she slowly stalks forward, watching the tension build and pool within every inch of his body, tightening until she’s a hair’s width away. The barrel of the gun draws closer and closer, and then finally…

She flicks the delicate spot at the nape of his neck hard with her finger.

Jake all but collapses onto the dresser, his restricted breaths coming in quick and shaky gasps. Rosa loses her patience and grabs him by the shoulder, yanking him back round to face her.

“Okay, the hell was that?” She barks. Jake’s face is slightly flushed from the panting, he’s grinning and fidgeting underneath her. And like he always does in a pinch, he starts rambling off something stupid.

“So you had a change of heart! Well, that’s– that’s good! For me! Bad for you though! I mean I can only imagine what they’re going to say back at the precinct miss Dixi–”

“Cut the bullshit!” Rosa yells, and despite her best judgement, because it’s likely to only make him more jittery, pulls the gun back up so it’s aimed at his chest. Her finger’s far away from the trigger, but it’s cocked and the safety is still off.

“What are you doing, Jake?” She asks. “I mean what, are you into this?”

“What do you mean?” Jake asks, seeming for a moment like he’s actually Jake and not Henson whatever-the-hell.

“This!” She barks, waving the gun in front of him. “And me. And you.” She steels herself for what she’s about to say, hoping the threat of getting shot will prevent him from making a fool out of her. “Look, if you wanna do this as just some casual thing, I won't…. I won’t say no. Frankly I’ve wanted to point a gun at you for ages, just no one ever lets me.”

Jake seems… reluctant, like he wants to turn back around again, wants to go back to being backed into a corner instead of being offered any control of the situation. But that’s his own weird fault, not Rosa's, and if they’re doing this, she’s gonna do it knowing he actually wants it, and knowing the risks involved. He’s gotta at least have the balls to say it, or she won’t respect him enough to follow through.

For a long moment, he doesn't summon words, just opens and closes his mouth like a fish while looking between her impatient face and the gun. He doesn’t manage to keep still for a second of it.

“I mean– yeah, ” He finally admits, reluctant. “But that’s… Kinda crazy, isn’t it? To have that thing loaded, with the safety off. Finger on the trigger, eye on the prize, egg on the– my face. No, that’s not–” He shakes his head, jittery and completely out of sorts. Rosa fights the urge to roll her eyes yet again.

“Jesus Christ,” She sighs, and lowers the gun for one second in the hopes he’ll actually be able to focus on what she’s saying.

“If we do this, we have to not be stupid about it, okay? We’ll come up with a safe word, do it properly. And you have to make sure to do everything I tell you to. Deal?”

“Fine by me,” He says all too eagerly, and Rosa feels a small pang of shame for how into this she’s also getting. She squashes it and gives him a sharp nod.

“Good. So, safeword?” She asks. Jake nods enthusiastically.

“Can it please be Ironheart? Because I think it’d be really funny if–”

“No.” Rosa says forcefully, cutting off his rambling. “Besides, wouldn’t that make it, like, really confusing?”

Jake’s mouth goes wide in awe. “You’re gonna let me do the roleplay?” He asks. Then, before Rosa even has time to reply, he presses forward a little bit, eying her up and down in a way that - in any circumstance where threatening him with a loaded gun were not an option - would have made her cringe. “Oh, well someone’s been a naughty, naughty boy–”

“Don’t. Get cocky.” The gun is up against his chest in an instant, and Jake falters back, nodding rapidly. “The safeword is jamboree. Got it?”

“Yeah, okay that’s fair,” He breathes. “Jamboree? No– okay, sorry, you’re right,” He stammers. “Shall we?”

“Ugh,” Is Rosa’s only response before she leans in and presses her body against his. She doesn’t really want to kiss him, although that is a creative way to shut him up now that she thinks about it, so she settles for just hovering her face next to his, watching him glance at her rapidly out of the corner of his eye. She presses the gun against his side and whispers close to his face.

“So, you gonna follow my orders, or am I gonna have to use force?” She asks, her voice low. He turns his head just enough to look at her.

“Yep– orders, the orders thing, I’ll– yep!” He stutters, so she grabs him by the arm and throws him across the room. He clearly wasn’t expecting it (plus there’s still two bags and Jake's shoes strewn messily across the floor) so he loses his balance and topples over.

“Get up!” Rosa barks instantly, and Jake scrambles to his feet. “And keep your hands where I can see them. I don’t trust you,” She adds, and he does that too.

Crap. Now she actually has to think of an order to give him. She looks around the room, trying to spot anything that can be interacted with in a vaguely meaningful way. The closest she gets is the takeout packaging on the kitchen counter, and she’s running out of time to find anything else.

“Go, uh, clean up that mess.” She says awkwardly, but the weapon she’s brandishing seems to mask her uncertainty. Jake backs over towards the table, then pauses, squirming awkwardly.

“What?” Rosa barks.

“Well, I kinda need to lower my hands–”

“Yes! Fine, just– do it!” The second the words are out her mouth, Jake’s hands drop from his head and he angles himself over the counter, laying the entire upper half of his body over it until mostly just his ass in in view and–

“Oh, Diaz, you’re so dirty– ”

“ What are you doing?” Rosa groans. 

“Uh, trying to make it sexy, duh?” Jake shoots back. “No offence, but cleaning up your garbage isn’t exactly gonna do it for me Rosa, even with the gun.”

Rosa sighs and beckons him off the counter. “Fine,” She says, then her voice drops a little lower as awkwardness creeps over her, “Take off your shirt.”

“Wait, what?” Jake repeats, stunned.

“I don’t know, you said to make it sexy!” Rosa shouts back in the hopes of masking her embarrassment. “Do you want me to stop?” It only comes off half as a threat, but Jake jumps at it anyway, his hands at the hem of his shirt the instant she says it.

“No no no no, it’s fine, you’re fine,” He rattles out, pulling the clothing over his head. When he’s done that, he just stands there for a second, looking vaguely out of place, the same way Rosa feels.

“So, uhh..” 

She shakes her head and lifts the gun upright again. “Right,” She says quickly. “Uh, come here,”

She takes a step back as soon as he approaches, weirded out by the idea of Jake encroaching on her without a shirt on. It’s not like he’s totally unbearable to look at or anything (although she’ll never ever tell him that), but she doesn’t know what to do now this is all actually happening. Of all the people she has ever fantasised about, Jake has been the one to appear completely unwantedly, like when you accidentally remember to do your tax returns while getting laid or realise you forgot to lock the front door when you’re already 20 minutes from your house. Then again, she did say yes to this, and she’s not the kind of person to back out once she’s accepted a challenge.

“Stop,” She warns him, and he stops right there. “Get on the ground,”

She watches as he slowly drops to his knees, and from this angle he looks a little more appealing than before.

“You’re uh… You’re scum,” She says tentatively, still not sure at which point the line between cool and intimidating and cringe and embarrassing lies. Jake seems into it though, looking up at her with complete fixation, so she pushes on. 

“Gimme one good reason not to shoot you right now,” She adjusts the barrel so it lines up with his chest again as she speaks, and she watches his breath speed up a little. “Don’t think I won’t do it,” She goes on. “Cause I will. I’ve killed hundreds of criminals like you, it’s easy. Half of them don’t even put up a fight. They just sit there,” She leans down a little, prods the gun into his chest to punctuate her sentence. “And they take it.”

Jake swallows thickly, that nervous grin splitting across his face again. “Y-yeah?”

“Yeah,” She says. “How about you? I mean, do you really think,” She takes a step forward, Jake shuffles back. She’s starting to see the appeal in this, she thinks, if only slightly. “That could stand up to someone like me?”

Eventually, his back collides with the refrigerator. It doesn’t take long, the room is so small after all. She puts one foot up against it, to the side of his head, and he looks up at her with wide eyes, still grinning. 

“Maybe I could,” He says back, “How do you know I came in here without a plan?”

Rosa crouches down. “You’re bluffing.” She says.

“Or am I?” He says back in that stupid cocky voice of his. She puts the gun right up against his sternum.

“Okay okay I’m bluffing, I’m bluffing!” He panics, but she keeps the gun close to his skin, trailing it up towards his neck, watching his pulse accelerate.

“I hate liars,” She mutters. Somehow, despite the situation he’s currently in, he finds a way to shoot her an uncertain smile, even while he trembles slightly. 

“Oh yeah?” 

She feels something brush against her inner thigh, just light enough to still be apprehensive, but noticeable enough to make her fingers clench. She springs back, hand darting off the trigger, voice loud and full of alarm.

“What the hell man!?”

Jake throws his hands up in self defence. “What? I thought you were feeling my vibe back there!”

“Arg!” Rosa grunts, turning away from him and putting her focus on the gun.

“Enough, this is too weird for me. Pull that shit again and I’ll wind up shooting you for real,” She huffs. “I’m putting the safety back on…”

“Okay, whatever you want to do,” Jake breathes, and he seems to be using this as an opportunity to catch the breath he’s been holding up until now. “You were doing pretty good though, y’know, until you freaked out.”

“Yeah well it’d freak anyone out,” She barks back. “You’re a pervert, Peralta.”

“Oh stop it, you were enjoying it too,” He says. She glares at him. 

“Was not.” 

“Uh, were too,” He makes to stand up, which makes him look pretty stupid because now he’s drawn attention to it she can see just how much he was enjoying it all. “I mean, who could blame you, you have to admit I make a pretty good–”

She pulls the gun on him again, aiming right at his head.

“Does it still work with the safety on? Or does it only make you horny to think I might actually kill you?” 

Slowly, Jake sinks back down to the floor. “I guess we shall see.”

She stalks back over to him, kneeling back down so that their legs overlap in an alternating pattern on the floor. She keeps on her knees though, high enough so that she’s not sitting on his lap, because she’s too embarrassed to admit she’s kind of thinking about it at this point. Whatever, it’s not like anyone will know. Neither of them really have anyone to tell after all. Plus if he threatens to, she has a licence now and can shoot him for real.

“You know, you’ve got a pretty awful attitude, Peralta,” Rosa sneers. Unfortunately, the safety being off seems to have renewed some of Jake’s gargantuan ego, and so he snidely quips back at her without a second thought. 

“Well someone had the option to set me straight, but here we are.” 

She rams the gun against his diaphragm and bites, “I took the safety off once, I can do it again!”

“Okay alright, please don’t hurt me!” Jake whines.

“I thought you wanted me to hurt you, was that not the point of this?” Rosa retaliates. 

“What? No! Did you think the end goal was you shooting me for reals?” Jake says incredulously.

“Of course I didn’t think that, idiot!”

“Well how else were you planning on hurting me?” He attacks. “What, were you just gonna lightly shoot me?”

“God, I wish you’d just shut up!”

“Oh yeah? Make me!”

And then the gun was in Jake’s mouth before Rosa could stop herself from putting it there.

She feels him go eerily still beneath her, which she realises with belated regret is because she’s somehow ended up on his lap without realising. Well, if she’s already come this far, there isn’t much of her pride left to lose anymore, really.

Her free hand goes down to the buckle of his jeans, trying to undo it without breaking eye contact. Jake tries to mumble something with his head still pushed back, so Rosa withdraws the gun from his mouth and wipes the residual saliva on the side of his jeans. Gross.

“What’re you–” 

“Shut up,” She says again, lifting the gun back to his face. It must be intimidating at this distance even with the safety on, because he actually does as she asks for once.

“Oookay, your hand is on my–”

“Yep,” She cuts him off dryly. She watches Jake’s eyes dart around for a second. 

“Welp, this is… Interesting–Oh so you’re!–Okay yeah, you’re– that’s my–yep–” The rest of his sentence falls away as his head drops back against the fridge door. She moves her hand slowly, raising the handgun in the other up to the side of his head.

“Hey Jake?” She says, trying to snag his waning attention. “Hey. Look at me,”

With what looks to be some difficulty, he does as she asks, lowering his eyes to look at her.

“Say I’m a better cop than you,” She says. His face scrunches up a little.

“What?”

“Say I’m a better cop than you,” She reiterates slowly, a little more impatient this time.

“No, what’re you talking about? I mean technically neither of us are even–”

“Just say it!”

“Jesus, okay, fine!” Jake barks, letting his head fall back against the white plastic behind him. “You’re a better cop than me or whatever.”

“Good boy,” She mutters, and in one smooth movement, the safety is off again. 

“Oh my God–” His voice comes out breathy, but he cuts himself off as Rosa leans in close to one side of his face, angling the gun against his head with malice. 

“Do not fucking touch me this time, I’m serious,” She seethes, and Jake nods and whines some vague sound of affirmation as his head lolls to the side and his breaths start to come in faster and faster pants.

She can tell he’s close, which I guess makes sense after the intensity of the build-up, and she’s grateful he’s too out of it to see the sadistic smile that crawls across her face as she keeps the gun pressed steadily against his skull. She watches him tense up under her, noises spilling from his throat, and she covertly moves her thumb across the safety switch again. She leans in extra close to make double, triple sure she’s pressed it, and just to be safe, she pulls the gun away a hair and angles it in front of him instead of right at his head. Jake doesn’t notice in his current state, and when she finally squeezes the trigger, it produces a harmless click right next to his ear . She feels him shudder and convulse beneath her with a groan.

“Oh, gross,” She mutters to herself, stepping away from him and tossing the gun aside on the kitchen counter. She washes her hands thoroughly, trying not to think about what just happened to them, then takes the magazine out of the gun. She’ll have to clean that too, now that she thinks about it, but since Jake is still lying semi-lucid on her kitchen floor, she figures she has more pressing issues right now.

“You alright?” She asks, looking down at him lying slumped against her refrigerator. His chest still heaving rapidly despite the fact he’s definitely had time to catch his breath by now, and he looks dizzy and spent. She awkwardly shuffles back over to him. “C’mere, sit up.” She says, pulling  him upright. 

“You did good,” She says awkwardly, feeling like a drill sergeant complimenting a rookie for not throwing up after 500 pushups. Which Jake totally did during his first week by the way, she’ll never ever let him live it down. She’ll probably never let him live this down either, but it’s still too fresh in her mind for her to not also feel mortally embarrassed by it, so that’ll have to wait.

“Thanks, you too,” Jake huffs after a moment has passed, “When you really do catch the bad guys, you should give em a taste of that,”

“Excuse me?” Rosa says blankly. Jake closes his eyes, realising what he’s just said.

“Not– the sexy part. The part with the gun– not that part, I mean–”

“I know what you mean,” Rosa says, deciding to throw him a bone. He needs this – he looks too exhausted and frazzled to form coherent, sensible speech, which is already not a strong suit of his if she’s honest.

She helps him up and takes him over to sit on the edge of the bed, not quite sure how to react when he starts to sniff, then shake, then cry. She leaves for a moment to get him a glass of water, because she’s not really sure what the current situation calls for. Maybe alcohol would have been a better move now that she thinks about it. But by the time she’s returned, he’s picked up his shirt and pulled it back over his head, so he seems to be doing a tiny bit better.

“Sorry, I’m not– this isn’t because it was bad or anything, please don't think that–” Jake says, gesturing at the tears he’s quickly wiping away. “Because it wasn’t bad, like at all, it was frickin schweet– ”

“You’re fine,” Rosa cuts him off. She nudges his shoulder with hers. “I get it.”

She sits with him until he feels well enough to drink some of the water and start rambling something stupid about how he should get to name the gun now as a reward for all of this, at which point she stands up and heads for the door.

“I’m gonna go get some food for that ridiculous amount of alcohol we decided to bring,” She says, shrugging on her coat. “You wanna watch Die Hard when I get back?”

Jake perks up. “You said you hate those movies!” 

“Eh, well. I guess today I’m all about trying new things.”

And with that, she was gone.

“And that,” Says Jake to an enthralled crowd of Amy, Charles, and Gina, “Is the story of how, among other things, I got to name Rosa’s gun.”

“What did you call it?” Charles asks at once. He’s been listening with the most interest throughout the whole story, possibly even more than Gina, who he’s pretty certain is gonna vague post about this for the rest of the night as soon as she gets the chance.

“Ironheart–”

“It’s called Thrasher,” 

They say at the same time. Jake turns to Rosa, the hurt evident on his face.

“I gave you Ironheart and you went with Thrasher? ”

“Whatever,” She says, avoiding his question entirely. “I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night. See ya losers,” Then she shrugs and walks off, without even acknowledging how gravely she’s wounded Jake’s trust.

He’s distracted though when Charles places an unsteady hand on his shoulder. They’ve all gone through a few more drinks while the story was being told, and he slurs his words slightly as he says them.

“Jake, that was the moss beautiful story I’ve ever heard… I think you’re SO brave. Thank you.” He pats his shoulder once, hanging his head, muttering with conviction, “God, I’m so glad I was wrong about the death thing.” 

Charles excuses himself too to go to the bathroom, although Jake expects he’s really sneaking off to hide the fact he’s started to cry a little. Which is weird, but definitely not the weirdest thing that’s happened tonight, so he can’t really hold it against him.

Gina has already taken off by the time Jake turns back around, probably to tell her new piece of gossip to anyone who will listen while simultaneously sending the voice recording to every name in her contacts. But whatever, Jake’ll live. Or at least if he dies in shame, he’ll get to bring Rosa down with him, which is a decent consolidation prize I guess.

But that just leaves him and Amy at the table. He feels awkwardness creep over him, so he starts tapping a frantic rhythm on the bar to try - and fail - to calm himself down.

“Sooo, uhh– crazy story, huh?” He opens. Amy’s eyebrows raise and she sits with a dumbfounded smile for a moment as Jake laughs awkwardly.

“Yeah uh… Yeah,” She finally manages to chuckle, fidgeting a bit. “A little.”

He bites the inside of his cheek for a second, summoning what’s left of his guts or banishing what’s left of his pride, he can’t tell anymore.

“Hey, so… I hope this doesn’t make things weird between us,” He says at last. Amy looks up at him, her eyes huge and brown and genuine and so, so pretty, even in the shitty lighting of a bar. A part of him aches to smirk and prop his chin up on his palm and sing the Santiago has poop-eyes song again, which is how he knows he’s definitely still in love with her, but he doesn’t. The situation calls for more sincerity than that. Plus it makes her, like, super annoyed for like an hour afterwards.

“Y’know, because I used to like you, and now that whole bombshell just got dropped and I dunno, I just don’t want this to impact the way we are at work and stuff. That’s the last thing I’d want.”

Amy tilts her head and offers him a smile, but her eyes have that glint in them that she gets before she starts an interrogation, and Jake feels his uh-oh, Amy is about to do something annoying senses tingling.

“Just tell me one thing,” Amy says. 

Yep. Uh-oh.

“What?” He replies anyway, because he’s kind of too drunk and a bit too embarrassed and way too fixated on how nice her hair looks right now to just get up and walk away. She leans in a little closer and asks:

“Why?”

“Why what?” He responds. “Why Rosa? Why on the floor when there was a perfectly good bed? Why did I name myself Hendrick Fullthrottle ? Because I was stupid, Amy. Young and very stupid.”

“Why the gun?” She cuts straight to the point he was wishing she’d avoid, so he sighs heavily and straightens up a little, preparing to do some ultra cool totally not mortifying soul-baring in front of her. 

“Well, I guess I kinda have trust issues, don’t know if you knew,” He begins with as much levity as he can force into the sentence, hoping it’ll act as somewhat of a buffer. “So knowing I can trust someone, enough that they can hold a loaded gun against my head and still not hurt me… That’s just nice, I guess. Although saying it out loud makes it sound kind of insane, I am now realising.’

To his utter surprise, Amy laughs a little, looking down into her beer.

“No, strangely enough, I kinda get it,” She says, and Jake feels some of the awkwardness slip away. “It’s okay, Jake, I’m not gonna judge you. Besides,” She flicks her head up, tucking a strand of her behind her ear, and smiles at him. God, how can one person be so stupidly beautiful and annoying all at once? It frustrates him to no end. 

“If Rosa pointed a gun at me like that, I’d probably react the same.”

Jake’s eyebrows shoot five hundred feet off his head, and he leans halfway across the bar in shock.

“ What??”

But the night stretches on regardless and they all keep drinking. Jake and Rosa cover everyone’s tabs, and to everybody’s great relief, nobody remembers anything in the morning.

(Except Gina. Gina’s got receipts, bitchessss!)

[peru-perusals]

Day 7 - Part 3 - Cusco Dinner

Marita left us with a handful of riddles before saying goodbye. Answers to the riddles are at the end of the post!

1. How do you put nine cows in eight boxes, with only one per box?

2. How can half of twelve be seven?

3. How do you draw a square with three lines?

We arrived in Cusco and disembarked the bus. The van driver who picked us up skillfully navigated Cusco traffic, where cars regularly squeeze past each other on the sidewalk. We dropped off our stuff at the hotel before being picked up by our guide, Mario, and the woman that Holly had been communicating with, Lorena.

We walked to Santa Catalina street with lots of shops and went into a restaurant and sat by the door in a table that was angled because it was clearly too long for the space. We sat down with Mario, our guide, and said goodbye to Lorena. The waiter tried to bring us free Pisco Sour, but Holly turned it away, as it is alcoholic.

As with other restaurants, we ordered three courses. I got stuffed potato, Alfredo spaghetti, and cheese cake. The stuffed potato was closer to a croqueta than a baked potato, as it was meat and carrots and other goodies wrapped in mash potatoes and fried. It was excellent.

The Alfredo Spaghetti had undisclosed mushrooms which was very disappointing.

The cheesecake was closer to flan than American cheesecake and the only sweet portion was the crust. It still tasted pretty good!

We watched the same set of dancers as they kept changing into different outfits and performing dances from different communities.

Photo by Holly

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at a little shop to buy more water and watched as the stray dogs chased each other around in the street. We walked back to the hotel settled in for the night.

Riddle Answers:

1. 🄽🄸🄽🄴🄲🄾🅆🅂

2. XII cut in half horizontally is VII

3. Just put the three lines inside of a square!