#looks like monster fucking's back on the menu boys

[sandinthemachine]

posting a little blurb cuz I'm very proud of myself today

-first, for those of you that will not read this whole post, brat!tamer König is happening, I'd love some fun ideas and inspiration for that, feel free to use anon (I'm sure plenty of chaos gremlins follow me that can help, you know who you are)

And several updates on Deadly Nightshade!

-I wrote 3000 words for it today! This fic has been a struggle because I'm putting a lot more pressure on myself to get the prose right and to have all the details in order because there is a bit of a mystery element to it and two intertwined plots that I'm figuring out how to balance, but! I'm excited at how it's going so far! Part 2 should be out within a week, and then after that updates will be more frequent because I'll actually, of course, know what I'm doing (plot outlines ftw even if they're a bitch to make my nd brain write)

also for those interested, the monster design is complete! After many hours of combing through research papers and getting very easily distracted by so many niche biology things, I know exactly what he looks like. Once we see more of him in the story I'll have a whole post ready for him :)

[bunnys-kisses]

Charles Leclerc + pudding chomeur + sangria

bakery menu

thank you for ordering from the menu! orders are still open, so please hit me up! i'd love to make something up for you, these have been a ton of fun and i hope to make more in the future! thank you for all the support! a nice short and sweet prompt for the lovely people at home!

pudding chomeur ("i don't share.") + sangria (drunk sex) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, drunk sex, facetime calls (sorry max!), jealousy, a touch of possessive behavior (but he loves you so much), doggy style, dirty talk, everyone's drunk

charles never considered himself to be a possessive man. there was no reason to be, jealousy was never a good look on him. he had beautiful green eyes, but he was no green eyed monster. but he very much didn't like how max was talking to you.

he also didn't like that the wold champion was eyeing your cleavage then looking to charles in the near distance of the club you were all at. those blue eyes looked to charles, almost daring him with what he was going to do next. max practically had you cornered while you rambled in your drunken state, what was charles going to do?

the devil was a talker, and he was currently in charles' ear.

back in your apartment, charles' hands rarely left your body. you stumbled a little into the apartment as you kicked off your heels and ended up on the couch. but you weren't on there long before charles had you back on your now-bare feet and headed towards the bedroom. charles held onto you tightly as he walked into the room, only to let you go as he pushed you onto the bed.

"strip." he said, flushed in the face and a little out of breath. something came over your charming, loving boyfriend when he got enough alcohol in him. pink in the cheeks down to his neck and his insatiable need for you.

"strip?"

he nodded as he started to undo his linen white shirt, his hands were a little shaky as he got his shirt off, he wore no undershirt and then worked on the belt of his pants. you got your dress off before charles has the chance to rip it off of you.

"you're mine."

"charles."

"say it."

you sat on the edge of the bed, now naked. you then swallowed and said, "i'm yours, charles." you shifted in your spot, "now and forever."

he got his slacks off and soon his underwear. he admired your nude form once you slipped your lace panties off. he watched them fall to the ground before he pounced on you. he pressed himself against you for a moment before he got you on your elbows and knees. your face pressed into the mattress, you moaned as he brushed his cock up against your cunt. "say it again."

"i'm yours, charles." you moaned as you arched your back a little. that was what he liked to hear. it polluted his brain more than the alcohol and it made his cock twitch.

"that's what i like to hear. i'm never sharing you, you are mine and mine alone." he didn't need max's hands all over you. not all over what was his. he continued to rub against you before he sank his cock into you. he covered your body mostly with his as he got all the way the root of his cock.

"charles!" you squeaked as you held onto the covers under you. his pace wasn't gentle, it was rough and it made the back of your skull throb with the intensity of it. when charles was drunk, he fucked you like an animal. a far cry from the gentle pretty boy most thought of his as.

he couldn't help it, something about you mixed with hard liquor made everything fire off in his brain. he needed you, he hungered for you. as he fucked you till you were moaning, he grabbed his phone from his pants that were on the bed. he propped it up on the pillows and as he drunkingly fucked you, he called the only person he could think of.

before max could even say hello, he was greeted to the sounds of your fucking. from your high pitched noises to the creak of the bed. he could see you, but most of all see charles' hungry, drunk gaze.

max chuckled and said, "i guess you're sharing now." his voice low as he admired how charles was fucking you. it was messy sex, the kind of sex that the predestined shouldn't be having.

he said through a tense jaw, "i don't share." then continued to shove your face further into the bed. he looked towards the camera and saw max on the screen, "don't put your hands on her again."

max shifted a little in his bed and was all smiles. even in the low light of the room, charles could see the heat in the drunk verstappen's face. in only fueled him to fuck you harder. max said quietly, "no need to be so rough her, mate. she's not going anywhere."

charles could tell that max's other hand was down the front his sweatpants. he knew that bastard was jerking off to this. he looked back to the back of your head as he loomed over you. his thrusts were hard and made you whine with each movement.

only he could drive you crazy. your noises were angelic and it bled pleasure into charles' head. he briefly looked at max on screen and smiled. all three of you were painfully drunk. max's heavy pants could be heard, but you were lost in your own sexual euphoria. charles continued to fuck you roughly, he watched your ass bounce against his cock as he fucked you right into the mattress.

"please, charles." you whined as you felt everything fill your head. it was painfully hot. there was nothing else quite like it. you drooled onto the bed as he fucked you. the pleasure made your head feel heavy. it was a sick sexual heat that left you clamoring for more. you were drunk and your lover was drunk.

"i got you, baby." he said, he could feel the sweat down his back as he rutted up inside of you, "you look so beautiful. tell me who you belong to, who fucks you just right." who owns you, were the unspoken words.

you whined, not knowing max was on call, "charles. fuck, you, it's you!' and you clawed at the covers, you felt the urge to climax. you moaned heavily as he continued to fuck you.

you both didn't last long, and neither did max. you came first with a harsh moan which only spurred charles to finish inside of you with a loud groan, that bordered on high pitched. and max bit into his palm as he came to not alert you that you were being filmed. charles wiped his eyes to focus himself before he turned off the call without even saying goodbye, leaving max to clean up his own mess. the phone was put further on the bed before charles got you onto your back.

he admired your sweaty features and your blissed out state. he licked his lips before he hiked up your hips, "i'm not done with you. i'm going to mark you so max never touches you again."

-

the next morning, charles woke up and checked his phone through bleary eyes. he had very recollection of last night once the two of you got home. he noticed that he was on facetime with max for over half an hour. he assumed he had fallen asleep while they had a conversation.

that was until he checked the text message that the driver sent him. the words made charles' eyes go wide.

'she looked good under you. maybe next time i can join." <3

[kwanisms]

Kinktober 「10:28」 — k.soonyoung

» seventeen menu | hoshi menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ weretiger!Soonyoung × fem!Reader wc: 3.3k summary: Normally during his heat, Soonyoung stays as far away from his girlfriend as he can for fear of scaring her away but he can’t help himself when she comes by to drop some soup off seeing as he told her he’s sick. genres/themes/au: smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, mentions of: food consumption, cat anatomy; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.  MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: sorry for skipping two days in a row. I will be tacking those on at the end of Kinktober just like the others I missed so don’t worry. Jisung’s I just lost track of time and Christian’s fell on game day and I didn’t even realize it. I’ll get them done and added to the end of Kinktober, I promise lol anyway, here is our resident cult leader, Soonie and his tiger agenda. Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), heat cycles, rough sex, unprotected sex (just don’t do this. Use protection lol), non-human genitalia (like yunho, Soon’s got a barbed d!ck because cat. Don’t like it, don’t read it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idc), scent marking (f receiving), biting (f receiving), use of pet names (hers: baby, kitten, beautiful, etc.; his: babe, Soonie, baby, etc.), I think i got all of them but let me know if I missed any! kinks: heat cycles + rough sex dialogue prompt: ❛❛ You heard me. Take. It. Off. Now. ❜❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

“Kwon Soonyoung, I know you're home! Let me in, damn it!”

Soonyoung raised his head as he sat with his back against the door. He'd lost track of how long he'd been sitting there while you stood outside his apartment door, knocking, ringing the bell, demanding to be let in. He'd lost track of how many times he'd almost given.

Almost.

It's not that he didn't want to see you, he did. He wanted to see you more than anything, but he knew if he let you into his apartment, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from jumping you. Especially now that he could smell you.

It was always a rough time for him when he went into heat. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't just female animals that went into heat, males also went into heat too and as a weretiger, Soonyoung was no exception. He'd spent most of his formative years dealing with it on his own and for a long time, he avoided being intimate with anyone because of the weird physiological changes to his body.

Unlike many werecreatures, Soonyoung's curse was a generational one and he was not bitten or scratched. His was passed from father to son and inherited by blood. The changes lay dormant until a boy started to go through puberty. By the time he was 18, Soonyoung had gone through just under two hundred and thirty full moon transformations.

And now, at twenty eight years of age, he'd been through over three hundred and fifty transformations. His heat always came the week leading up to the full moon. He was always consumed with an insatiable need to fuck something and he was very good at holding himself back.

Until you came along.

The sweet, caring, and unsuspecting girl who lived across the courtyard from him in the same apartment as him but on the other side of the complex. From his balcony, Soonyoung could see your balcony and the windows that looked into your apartment. 

You kept an assortment of potted plants on your balcony and had installed some sort of netting or mesh to sort of close in the area which made sense because as soon as it went up, he saw an orange tabby cat lounging at the top of a cat tree.

Know you liked cats gave Soonyoung the drive to talk to you the next time he saw you in the courtyard with what he thought was little success but his poorly executed joke still managed to make you laugh and get him your number.

From then on, he was hooked and the moment you invited him over for dinner, he was a goner. One date turned into two and then three and soon, he had the privilege of calling you his girlfriend.

You both maintained separate spaces in the building and he found it kind of cute, his girlfriend living across the courtyard from him. Your cats, which he learned there were actually two, were the sweetest creatures on earth and absolutely adored him. The girl, a white one with orange markings and long fur, was named Pad Thai and the boy, the short hair orange tabby, was named Cheezit. 

Soonyoung had taken to calling them his children and joked with his friends that you had full custody and he got visitations. It was a joke you took in stride and accepted fully, sending silly videos of the cats pretending to use your phone and making silly voices for them, speaking to their dad. It often made his day all that much brighter when he couldn’t come visit you.

Soonyoung had yet to tell you about his condition, only mentioning that he wasn’t like most guys, urging that he wasn’t just saying that and that it was a thousand percent true. He just hadn’t found the right time to tell you exactly how different he was. How does one even go about telling their partner that they’re a weretiger?

It was a conversation Soonyoung knew needed to happen but it just hadn’t yet. Which is why he was stuck in this situation now with you pounding on the door to be let in.

Soonyoung had started telling you that his once a month disappearance was just him coming down with something. He started with the usual excuses, the flu, the cold, stomach flu, even covid but he was starting to run out of excuses. He also hated using illness as an excuse because your immediate response was to offer to bring him medicine and food, usually in the form of soup, stew, or broth. He always gave the same excuse for not opening the door.

He didn’t want to get you sick.

At first, you took it as your boyfriend being cautious and caring but soon, you started to get suspicious and he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the charade much longer. He was going to have to come clean and tell you the truth much sooner rather than later.

A conversation he had been dreading ever since asking you to be his girlfriend.

The wood behind him shook as another series of loud knocks rang out, no doubt you beating your fist against the door. “Kwon Soonyoung!” you shouted. He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut, as if it might make you leave faster. He felt awful. He hated ignoring you but in his mind, it was for the best when he was in heat. He couldn’t risk scaring you off and losing you.

Another series of knocks shook the door, which was surprising given your somewhat smaller stature. For one so little, you sure were strong. And loud. “Kwon Soonyoung! If you do not open this door right now, we are done!” 

Soonyoung’s eyes opened quickly and he turned his head to look back at the door. ‘She wouldn’t…’ he thought to himself. “I mean it, Soonyoung! If you don’t open this door, consider us through!” Something in your tone made him scramble up to his feet, hastily pulling at the locks separating you from him. He could tell you weren’t kidding.

He kept the chain on, opening the door only a few inches as he looked out into the hall at you. He held his breath as he took in your frame. You’d showered recently, he could smell the scent of your shampoo and body wash, mixing with your natural scent and making his cock twitch in his pants.

On your face was a furious expression and his heart sank immediately. If he had cat ears, this is where they would flatten back against his head in fear. You were terrifying when you were mad. He’d never been on the receiving end of your anger before nor had he really seen it in action.

“H-hey,” he stammered. His eyes dipped down to see the thermos in your hand that no doubt held a homemade soup, stew, or broth of some kind but he couldn’t be sure with how tightly the lid was screwed on nor with how overpowering your scent was.

“Don’t you hey me,” you said, your eyes narrowing at him. “Open the door and let me in.” Soonyoung grimaced. He wanted more than anything to let you in but he knew if he did, there was no telling how he’d react to having you so close when he was aching, burning, to be touched. It wasn’t a good idea on many levels.

“I don’t wanna get you sick,” he murmured, keeping his voice low. You scoffed, placing a hand on your hip and looking every bit the sassy girlfriend he knew and loved. “Don’t try that bullshit with me,” you snapped. “I know you aren’t sick,” you added. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as he looked up from the thermos in your hand to meet your hardened gaze. “Wh-what?” he breathed. 

“I spoke to Jihoon,” you started to explain. “He told me the truth.” Soonyoung’s stomach sank as the realization that his best friend had outed him to you. ‘Well fuck,’ he thought. It looked like he was going to have to have a talk with Jihoon.

“So let me in. We need to talk.” Soonyoung sighed and closed the door, undoing the chain before pulling the door open for you to enter his apartment. He shut the door behind you and prepared for the storm.

You didn’t unload on him immediately, instead sliding your shoes off and walking towards the kitchen where you set the thermos down. He followed, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched you move around his kitchen, pulling out a bowl and a spoon from their resting places.

You placed the bowl down next to the thermos and unscrewed the lid silently, pouring out a very hearty looking stew. It smelled amazing, the scent of meat, herbs, and potatoes invading his senses. “Jihoon said you aren’t exactly sick. Just that during this time, you don’t feel well,” you said as you finished pouring the hot stew into the bowl, setting the thermos down and pushing the bowl towards your boyfriend, holding out the spoon.

Soonyoung glanced at the spoon and the bowl before looking at you. “Here’s what’s going to happen.” you said leaning over the counter. Soonyoung’s eyes dipped down to your chest, the curve of your breast visible down your shirt from where he stood. “You’re going to take the damn spoon and eat while I talk. Sound good?” 

Soonyoung nodded, moving to sit at the kitchen island and grabbing the spoon from your hand. The moment your skin met, electricity and heat spread throughout his body, the urge to pounce on you from across the counter trying to take the reins but he managed to push it down and simply started eating.

You watched him take a few bites before speaking.

“I know you’re a weretiger,” you said softly, drawing his attention as he looked up at you, his mouth full of bits of beef and potatoes. “Jihoon told me everything. I will admit I’m a little shocked you didn’t tell me all of this but I can’t imagine it’s an easy subject to bring up so I’ll give you a pass there,” you explained. “That being said, I wish you would have just told me the truth. Did you think I would judge you? Did you think I would leave or break up with you?” 

Soonyoung swallowed the food in his mouth before speaking. “I didn’t know what to expect, actually,” he answered truthfully. “I was less scared about you finding out about me being a weretiger and more scared that I—” he hesitated, looking down at his bowl of food. You followed his gaze. “Finish eating,” you told him. “I have more to say anyway.

By the time Soonyoung had finished his bowl of stew and ate another at your insistence, you were sitting on the couch, Soonyoung resting over your legs as he hugged around your waist, his face buried in your stomach, a deep rumbling emanating from his chest as he purred happily. You stroked his hair, massaging his scalp with your finger tips.

“This is nice,” you said softly as you combed your fingers through his hair. “Mhm,” Soonyoung hummed. Silence fell over the two of you for a few minutes before you couldn’t stop yourself from asking a question that was at the forefront of your mind.

“Soonie,” you said softly, gently tugging at his hair. “Hmm?” he asked, not lifting his head or opening his eyes. “Can I ask you what you meant earlier about being scared?” You felt him stiffen under your touch before he finally lifted his head, looking up at you. “Wh-what about it?” he asked.

You brushed his hair back from his forehead, cupping his cheek at the same time. “What are you scared of, babe?” Soonyoung took a deep breath before pulling himself up to sit. “I’m scared of frightening you,” he finally answered, glancing at your hand before reaching over to take it in his.

“Of frightening me? How would you frighten me?” you asked, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. Soonyoung looked down at your joined hands before speaking. “You know how when we’re intimate?” he asked softly, not looking up as you nodded. “Yes,” you replied, a small smile on your lips. “Well, when the week of the full moon approaches, I start to… change,” he continued.

“My body starts to change.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes as your smile spread. “Is this about your heat?” you asked nonchalantly. Soonyoung’s eyes widened as his gaze snapped up to meet yours. “Y-you know about that?” he asked incredulously. You nodded, your smile only growing. “You think I’m going to learn that my boyfriend is a weretiger and not look up what all of that entails? I know everything, baby. Your heat, your transformation cycle, all of it. I also know your curse is familial and not transferred by bites or scratches. Jihoon told me that part though,” you said, reaching up to brush his hair back again.

“And I already know what happens to your cock, so there’s no need to explain that to me.”

Soonyoung’s eyes widened comically. “I learned that on my own by reading. Jihoon did not inform me of that part,” you added, reaching up to bop the end of his nose with the tip of your finger. “I know all about the sexual changes, the heat cycle, the penile spines, copulation, all of it. I know everything.”

Soonyoung wasn’t sure whether he should be impressed, alarmed, or relieved. He felt a mixture of all three as he sat there on his couch with you. “Do you also know about the insatiable urge I have to be buried inside you whenever you’re around?” he asked, noticing how your eyes widened slightly. “No,” you answered softly before a smirk started to form.

“But now I do.”

Soonyoung could feel heat creeping up his neck towards his face at the same time heat settled in the pit of his stomach. A new smell invaded his nostrils. The smell of arousal but it wasn’t his own. He glanced down quickly before looking back up. “Can you smell me?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, the smirk still present on your face. He nodded slowly, holding your gaze.

You leaned back against the arm of the couch, spreading your legs slightly. Soonyoung’s eyes fluttered shut as the scent hit him stronger. He could feel his cock painfully hard in his pants. “Baby,” Soonyoung said softly as a shiver ran up his spine, that insatiable need to bury his cock inside your warm cunt starting to take over. “If you don’t stop me,” he continued, opening his eyes to meet your gaze.

“I won’t be able to stop myself. I’ll…” he trailed off as your hands moved, sliding down your body. “I don’t know what I’ll do,” he said, swallowing thickly as his eyes followed your hands. “Maybe that’s what I want,” you said softly. “Maybe I want you to pounce on me.”

Soonyoung turned his head, averting his gaze as he tried to steady his erratic breathing. He felt the couch move and then your hand under his chin, turning his head to face you. “Don’t look away from me,” you said in a low voice. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Soonyoung whispered, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I promise you won’t,” you replied, leaning into his touch.

“I want you to let it take control. You need this,” you continued, taking one of his hands and guiding it between your thighs, pressing his fingers against your cloth covered crotch. “Pin me down, Soonie. Fuck me like I know you want to.”

Soonyoung let out a sound between a moan and a growl as he closed the distance,  the hand on your cheek sliding to the back of your neck to pull you into a bruising kiss, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth. You moaned as he pushed you back onto the couch, pinning you down with his weight alone. 

You could feel his erection in his pants press against you, rutting slightly. “I don’t think I can wait,” he murmured against your lips, hands moving to pull at your shorts. “Then don’t,” you urged as he pulled back, fingers working to undo the tie of your shorts. He made quick work of them, pulling them and your panties off. “Shirt off,” he grumbled as he pulled his own off.

You watched him instead as he undid his pants. He glanced up at you. “What’re you doing?” he asked, his hands stilling. “I’m watching you,” you replied. “He glanced down at your shirt. “Shirt. Off,” he repeated. “What?” you asked, feigning ignorance. “You heard me,” Soonyoung growled as he stared you down. “Take. It. Off. Now.” 

You let out a giggle before complying, pulling your shirt off as he resumed undoing his pants and pushing them down, kicking them off before leaning over you, lips kissing a path up your chest to your neck. “Turn over,” he whispered in your ear.

You did as he asked, rolling over onto your stomach as he leaned over your back. You felt him rub his cheek against your shoulder. “What are you doing?” you asked with a chuckle. “Marking you,” he replied simply. “Don’t worry about it,” he added as he grabbed one of the pillows and guided you to lift your hips, placing the pillow under you.

With your hips raised, he guided the head of his cock to your slit, gathering your arousal on the tip before starting to push into you with a guttural moan. You gasped as he stretched you, the spines on his cock creating a rough but not entirely unpleasant texture as he bottomed out.

“Oh shit,” you gasped as he pulled back, the spikes raking your walls slightly. He thrusted into you harshly and you cried out. Soonyoung leaned over your back, covering your mouth with his hand. “The neighbors will complain, kitten,” he whispered in your ear. “You have to be quiet.”

He gave you another harsh thrust, slamming into you roughly as he set a brutal and unrelenting pace. “Is it too much?” he asked breathlessly. You shook your head, biting into your bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure. You couldn’t hold back when you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder. “Fuck, sorry baby,” he panted as he pounded into you.

“S’okay,” you gasped, walls spasming around him as he send you hurtling towards your orgasm which hit you, the strength making your legs shake as he continued to fuck you through it. “Are you okay?” he groaned as your cunt continued to flutter around his cock. You nodded in response. “Y-yes,” you gasped. “I’m – ah! – M’fine — oh god, Soonyoung!”

A second orgasm washed over you and still he kept thrusting, not showing any signs of slowing down. You knew by the end of it you were going to be a bruised, panting, sticky mess but you couldn’t be bothered to care now that he wasn’t holding back and showing you a new side to him you’d never experienced. As he sent you toppling over the edge of your third orgasm, he finally came without warning as he sank his teeth into your shoulder again as his load exploded inside you, painting your walls in his sticky white essence.

“Fuck!” he growled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “Sorry,” he murmured, pressing wet kissing against your skin. “Didn’t mean to yell in your ear.” You merely chuckled as you shook your head. “It’s fine, babe,” you replied. “Was I too rough?” he asked suddenly and again you answered with a shake of your head. “No,” you answered. “That was great. In fact,” you said as you lifted your head.

“I’m coming over more often to help with your heat if it means you’ll fuck me like that.”

©️ kwanisms 2024 | all works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works. All graphics made by me.

[demonic0angel]

(The line is inspired from a fanfic that I read but I thought it was funny if Danny give the Batfamily Pandora's "lunch" from Ghost Zone)

He picked up his food—his Pandora-made lunch—then he took some careful steps towards the center of the rooftop, ready to unveil the horrors contained within the ghost's lunch box. He turned to the Batfamily and Jazz one last time. "Are you truly sure?"

 "...I have never been more sure." Jazz said

"I'd agreed," Bruce replied.

Swallowing hard, Danny uncovered the Pandora Box. Today's menu was… "FUCK! It's the Kraken ghost box! GUYS, RUN! RUN! RUN! RUN!"

Jazz froze for a second. That thing was just horrible. However, she began to run away like a flash, hiding behind a column: "The hell is that?!" asked Jazz , as soon as she regained some mental clarity.

"That's Pandora's handmade lunch!" Yelled Danny as he made a beeline for cover, only barely dodging the powerful strikes of Pandora's "lunch". Notice how the quotation signs are in bold? That's intentional.

Pieces of concrete went flying off behind as he considered dodging the attacks. Death by fall damage seemed a lot better than whatever that thing was probably going to do to him.

On the other hand, Jazz, Bruce, Alfred and the boys could only shout "That's Pandora's lunch?!" as they looked absolutely mortified.

Soon enough, tentacles went flying in the boys' direction. Each Batboys quick to get the hell out of dodge before the monster could grab them.

"Danny/Fenton?!" Tim/Damian asked.

"Yes?!" Danny replied.

"You're the worst, you bug ghost!" Damian screamed.

“I asked if you were sure!!” Danny shrieked back. He jerked his head backwards with a yelp as a tentacle flew in his direction.

“You never said we’d have to fight our damn food!” Jason shouted before he started firing off his gun at the squid monster. Each bullet ricocheted off of the tentacles, causing more screams as bullets flew in all directions.

Tim screamed, dodging back and forth. “Stop shooting! Stop shooting!! You’re going to hit us!!”

Damian tried in vain to slash at the tentacles with his sword but all he was rewarded with was a missing sword and smack to the face. He was quickly picked up by Jazz and they both hid behind a column again.

Amidst the screeching, Batman used his grappling hook to fly over the box and then land beside Danny. He snatched the Fenton thermos from his side and then opened it, pointing it towards the Kraken. A beam shot out and then it was gone. Peace finally settled within the room as the Batfamily and Jazz finally came out of their hiding spot or slowed to a stop from their various jumping and rolling around.

“I revoke my agreement,” Batman said with a grumble. “You’re never bringing us lunch again.”

Danny nodded, looking abashed. “Y’know what? Fair enough.”

[hansensgirl]

summary. | Your sugar daddy’s jealousy is something you’ll just have to get used to.

prompts. | Lloyd Hansen + Sugar Daddy + “That’s no way to talk to your future husband.” + Daddy kink, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!sugar daddy!Lloyd Hansen x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, jealousy, possessiveness, obsession, lloyd being rude (not to reader), pet names, Daddy kink, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, power imbalance, forced engagement, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics

Lloyd is your first sugar daddy, but you aren’t his first sugar baby. He knows the ins and outs of the entire relationship, what is expected and what isn’t. He showed you the ropes and, of course, tailored them to suit him best.

You find he isn’t too bad. Your friends warned you of the arrangement, worrying that you’ll grow attached or end up crashing down with no prospects at all. But Lloyd always shooed those thoughts away and quieted them with his lavish gifts and equally as tantalizing attention.

But the long stretches of absence and his secrecy make you want to break things off entirely. You know you’re not Lloyd’s girlfriend—you probably never will be. That doesn’t stop you from feeling lonely or as though you’ve been left out in the cold.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when the waiter brings you the menus, hand lingering on yours for a little too long. Lloyd notices this—of course he does. You both sit in the private room of the restaurant, which has been shut down and guarded for added measures.

You still don’t know what Lloyd does, but you hope you haven’t gotten yourself tangled up in something illegal.

The waiter still stands there. “S’that all, bus boy?” Lloyd rudely asks, and the younger man quickly scurries off once he sees the look on your sugar daddy’s face. 

Lloyd sighs and turns his attention back to you while you try to ignore what just happened and focus on choosing a meal. He stares at you intently, unnerving you. 

“You know what you’re getting, darling?” Lloyd questions, smoothing his mustache with his fingers. “Probably some pasta,” you joke, quickly glancing up at him. He nods, sipping on the wine that you both started with. “What about you, Daddy?” you ask, closing the menu and placing it on the table.

The older man grabs your left hand and holds it gently, a gesture he loves. He caresses your fingers, and it soothes you, making you want to get out of here and curl up in bed. 

Thankfully, Lloyd isn’t too crazy about sex. You’ve read stories about some sugar daddies pushing their sugar babies away with their insatiable needs, although they lacked the awareness to see that they were hurting those women. 

However, when you two do have sex, it is always mind-blowing.

“I’ll do the same. I think they have a good truffle pasta here. We’ll get that,” Lloyd says, and you smile. You both gaze at each other, almost lovingly, until the same waiter returns.

He clears his throat, and Lloyd snaps his eyes to glare at the younger man. He stutters before turning his attention to you, giving you a flirty smile. You recognize his intentions but ignore them. You’re not interested in anyone except for your sugar daddy right now.

“Are you ready to order?” he asks, and you nod before looking at Lloyd. He always does the talking for you. “We’ll get your truffle pasta, with a side of you not eye-fucking my girl like a little shithead. Got that? Oh, and a to-go box, too,” the older man says, and you gasp at his words.

“Daddy–” you start, and he tuts. “By the way, this wine? Your personal recommendation? It tastes like shit. I could make something better myself,” Lloyd sneers, and you wince. It’s certainly not the first time he’s been rude to someone else in front of you, but the root cause of it annoys you. 

Jealousy is an ugly, green-eyed monster that rears its head whenever you go out with Lloyd Hansen, even though your relationship is not like that.

“Y– Yes, Sir. Sorry. I’ll be right back with your order,” the waiter shivers in fear. He scurries off, and Lloyd chuckles. “Was that really necessary?” you hiss, voice no louder than a whisper. “Of course, princess. C’mon, don’t be mad at me. He’s been giving you the puppy eyes since we got here,” Lloyd coos. You sigh deeply. “So? That doesn’t mean you should insult him,” you continue, and Lloyd rolls his eyes. 

“What do you want Daddy to do? Huh? Apologize?” he scoffs. “Actually, yeah. You should apologize to him for being such an asshole, Daddy,” you fume, speaking harder than usual. You just wanted a nice night out.

“That’s no way to talk to your future husband, honey,” Lloyd chides, and you nearly laugh. “Future husband? Yeah, right.” You go to pull your hand away from his, but he doesn’t let go. Suddenly, you realize one of your digits feels a little heavier.

You look down to see an engagement ring on your fourth finger, with a fat rock that nearly blinds you. 

“You may be laughing now, but all that wedding planning is gonna make you cry. But don’t worry, Daddy’ll be there every step of the way.”

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Animato

Chapter Thirty Four

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Gibson Child OMC, Bobby, Annie, Victor, Charlie, both bands and roadies, nameless DJs

Word Count: 3160

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, the last of Uncle Dean for a while, drinking and mild drug use, smoking cigarettes (do not come at me for this), Kevin calling Dean out publicly but subtly.

Series Masterlist

The rapid beat of a double-stroke roll woke Dean from the haze of sleep. He cracked one eye open and found the source of the wake up call. Gibson, sitting on the floor in Dean’s suite, was wailing on the coffee table while watching a random infomercial on the hotel’s tv’s world class Sunday morning programming. At least the little dude hadn’t gotten into Dean’s guitars without asking. 

“Gibby! What gives, man?”

“Oh, sorry,” the little boy didn’t even look back, instead he lightened his efforts into a tapping from the original knocking.

Dean huffed and fell back onto his pillow, muttering to himself and the ceiling, “I guess we’re up for the day.”

They had spent the night watching old monster movies and eating pizza. Dean had even taken Gibson to the hotel’s pool for a dip before the adult only hours kicked in. He had no idea how Pam and Lee kept up with the kid on a normal day, Dean was fucking beat. And that was after he slept more than double his usual night’s rest. 

How was it after nine already?! No wonder the kid was bored.

“You hungry? Probably should see if the buffet’s still going,” Dean asked suddenly.

“Okay!” Gibson dropped his sticks on the coffee table and hopped up with the unbridled energy of youth.

“Yeah, uh, I gotta throw some real pants on, dude.” Dean dragged himself to the edge of the bed and rolled his back. “Give Uncle Dean a minute and we can head down.”

Gibson nodded, but then ran to the counter in the kitchenette. “I made you coffee! They’ve got the little cups. But that was a while ago.”

Dean raised his eyebrow and surveyed the damage from his perch on the bed. “You make one for yourself?”

“Yep! It was gross. And the pink sugar didn’t help.”

“Yeah, well, that’s because it is gross. White or brown are best— no matter what Uncle Sam says.”

Gibson giggled, walking carefully over to Dean with the paper cup sloshing slightly. Dean wanted to help him, but he looked so proud of himself that Dean just sat back and clenched his hands as he awaited the delivery.

“Thanks, buddy,” Dean diligently took a sip. It was god awful. Cold, sure, but also really bitter and thin. Thankfully the kid didn’t think to add anything for him. He sighed and took another gulp while trying not to breathe and taste it more. “Uh—-yeah. Can’t start the day without some fuel.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah, man, of course. Now, I am gonna get dressed, find your shoes so we can get some grub.”

Turned out, the continental breakfast was already being cleaned up when they got back downstairs. Gibson’s spirits dropped instantly, but Dean assured him it was alright, and took the little man over to the attached restaurant that was hopping with the brunch crowd. 

“Look who the cat dragged in!” Bobby’s voice caught Dean’s attention as they rounded the corner with the hostess. “Make room. Miss— these idjits are with us, sorry they don’t have any manners about showing up on time.”

“Alright, I’ll— uh, I’ll let your server know.”

Dean had the wherewithal to murmur and hand over his thanks and apologies right in time to get a surprised smile. Kevin and Annie were on Bobby’s right while Sam and a very hungover looking Victor filled out the left side of the six person table.

“Rough night?” Dean teased.

“It aint over yet,” Victor lamented.

“Ooof! Been there, man. More bacon’ll help.”

Just then their server returned with two extra chairs and a busser slid in two extra place settings for them. “Thank you— thank you both. Seriously.”

“Of course, let me get you some menus.” Then the server disappeared in a flurry, weaving through the crowd of people in various states of dress and sobriety.

Kevin nudged Gibson with his elbow. “How was the sleepover at Dean’s? I bet he snores.”

Everyone around the table laughed.

“Bite me, Kev. Gibby, steal me one of his fries would ya?”

Gibson looked back and forth between the two men. “What?! No.”

Dean just shrugged. “He deserved it.”

“Two wrongs don’t make it alright,” Gibson told him knowingly.

“Yeah, UNCLE DEAN,” Sam butted in.

“From the mouths of babes,” Annie said, shaking her head in amusement. 

Kevin just laughed and took an obnoxious Dean-sized bite of fries.

“So— last day on tour until school’s out, what do you want to do today?” Bobby asked the star of the table.

“Is Mom and Dad awake? I want to see them ‘fore Grammy comes and gets me.”

“And you will, dude. I’m guessing they’re just up in their rooms getting dressed or something. It’s still early yet.”

“What timezone are you in?!” Bobby gave Dean the stink eye.

Dean ignored his manager and just ruffled Gibson’s hair. The menus appeared and they all settled in for another hour of each other’s company. 

        Dean knew it had to be hard for Gibson when they were on tour, he’d lived his own childhood with his dad barely there. But to have both parents out of reach for months at a time seemed worse. That’s why they made sure to give Pam and Lee breaks on the road, fly them home for three days at a time when they could. And they let Gibson come along when he didn’t have school.

It still felt like a worse case scenario though. He didn’t even have a little brother to make the days go by faster. Lee’s mom and their nanny were all he had outside of school friends. And the dogs. At least the kid got pets too.

Dean never did.

“Full House, bitches!” Charlie declared and threw her cards into the center of the table. “Jacks over twos.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Madison exclaimed, leaning in to inspect Charlie’s hand herself. She’d tagged along with Lee’s mom down to San Diego so she could join in on the Vegas leg of the trip. 

“She always pulls it out, I swear to god. I don’t know how, but she does,” Sam muttered and tossed his hand to Dean to shuffle for the next round.

They were an hour into the trip to Vegas and the mood on the bus was contagious. No more little ears and eyes to worry about, meant that the bottles and the bongs came out and the chips were stacked high across the tiny table. 

“Alright, alright, fair hand. Get your cards in, and maybe you can win some of them stacks back. If you’re lucky,” Dean taunted, collecting the rest of cards and sliding them back into a deck to be shuffled. “Trouble? Ante up.”

You tossed your share into the pot and took another sip of your drink. Dean felt your eyes on him as he dealt, bottom lip between his teeth in concentration. Technically, he knew everyone was watching him as he doled the next hand, but your attention felt heavier the last few days. Maybe you knew something he wasn’t ready for you to know.

Maybe you were waiting for him to fuck up again.

Or maybe it was all just wishful thinking and you weren’t really watching him at all. Either way, he was preoccupied with it all when he picked up his cards to find absolute trash.

“Oh Christ. I’m going to need more to drink. KEVIN! Another round of shots, if you don’t mind?”

You chuckled. “Dealer can’t deal to himself, huh?”

“Apparently not,” Dean muttered, not even bothering to pick up his cards again.

“More chances for the rest of us at least,” Madison pointed out and placed her call bet.

The afternoon turned into night while Bobby drove on. Games and ridiculousness ensued. Just when they stopped for dinner, Dean found himself in the playful overlap of drunk and stoned. 

He hummed a few bars of some pop number that was playing over the truckstop speakers and Kevin joined in in harmony as they trudged across the parking lot to the twenty four hour diner. Lee came in for the chorus and they started getting louder and sillier with it, doing the monkey walk with Dean in the middle of the two shorter guys.

Dean couldn’t hear the radio station any longer, but they carried it along, finishing the number strong while guessing at some of the lyrics. When everyone had reached the double doors of the restaurant, he caught you and Charlie with your phones up recording the shenanigans. Meanwhile, Sam and Madison were giggly, leaning a little heavier on one another than most people would be at just after seven at night.

“Alright, cool it you damn buffoons. Let’s see if they’ve got room for everyone,” Bobby grunted before disappearing inside.

“Looks like you guys are the fun bus!” Donna greeted, as SPS and company caught up with them.

“Just gettin’ started darlin’,” Dean drawled, nodding and smirking. “Though I doubt it’s all charades and crochet on Big Bertha over there either.”

Jody took a swig off of her flask. “Oh, fuck no. Nancy knits, but that’s about it. But that’s only when the Adderall kicks in.”

She dangled the metal bottle out towards the circle of waiting musicians in offering. Kevin and Pam both took a pull and passed it back. Then the equipment rig pulled in and the headcount shot up even more. Benny sauntered over with a knowing glint in his eye as he stepped right in between Dean and Donna. 

“We think we gettin’ in or gotta spread out to the fast food joints?”

“Hard to say, looks pretty dead in there, but that might mean there’s a small staff too,” you answered as everyone’s head craned to look inside.

“Alright, well I’m heading over to the cancer section until we hear one way or the other,” Jody nodded towards Annie and Patience smoking down the sidewalk. 

Dean perked up and followed her like an earnest puppy. He wasn’t a habitual smoker anymore, but he definitely still imbibed, especially on the road. Sam’s influence could only go so far. But oddly, you were trailing along behind him, followed by Jesse and a newer, yet awkward roadie that he’d only heard called Chief.

You actually pulled a pack out of your purse and held one out to Dean expectingly. “What?” you asked like an accusation.

“Are you just smoking because you’d knew I would be or—?”

You exhaled your first pull and offered him your lighter. “It’s been a fucking week, okay? Let me have this until we hit the states with actual vegetation and I have to deal with allergies too.”

Dean lit his cigarette nodding and blew out a smoke ring. “You don’t have to justify it to me, I was just checking I’m not the bad influence.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re always a bad influence, doesn’t mean I still didn’t choose it.”

That got him a little hot, if he was being honest. And he felt his smile all the way to the tips of his ears. “Damn, Trouble. Always knocking me back on my heels, you know that?”

You took another drag and shrugged, looking around to see everyone else somehow in their own conversations. “Part of the job.”

“Nah, that parts all you.” Dean said without even meaning to.

You looked up at him and gave him a little squint. “You need to eat something or you’re gonna be miserable in a couple hours.”

“I’m trying!” He huffed, gesturing with his cigarette towards the front doors, right as Bobby made his glorious return.

“Listen up!” Bobby glanced around at the bands and accumulated crew. “They’ve only got room for thirty folks, so line up and whoever is stuck at the back’s gotta find something else. We’re pulling out of here no later than ten o’clock, so be on time or be left behind.”

You chuckled over the hard-learned line.

Dean sucked a deep pull off his cigarette, trying to speed through it and getting lightheaded in the process. 

“Uh,” he exhaled and looked over at you then over you towards the rest of businesses in the travel center. “We trying to get in or we taking a walk?”

“I’m finishing my square.” You pointed to yourself and held up your cigarette.

Dean couldn’t get over your sass tonight. “Alright, then. A walk it is.”

It ended up with Jody and Patience sticking around while you and Dean finished smoking and then all four of you headed to the Arby’s across the parking lot. 

“Alright, folks, we got a quick segment at the end to wrap things up. Phantom Traveler, are you ready to ‘Hit It or Quit It’?” the gruffer DJ asked them from his chair across the room.

They barely all fit in the little sound booth, but managed to squeeze together to make it work. Lee, Pam and Kevin were on the three stools they provided, while Dean and Sam hovered over them to get at the shared mic. It was six o’clock in the morning and Dean didn’t know if any of them had even slept. But there they were anyway.

“It is five questions we ask in rapid succession and you just say the first thing that comes to mind. And since all five of you are here, we’ll just go down the line— or clockwise I guess,” the younger DJ explained.

“I’m game!” Dean exclaimed, futsing with the ball cap on his head.

Pamela, who was holding the mic, winked. “Let’s hear ‘em, boys.”

The DJs laughed. “Alright, Pamela’s ready. First question: Who’s got the craziest ex’s of the band?”

Everyone ‘Oh’d!’.

Lee leaned in and said deeply into the mic. “I’m sitting right here!” 

“Couldn’t have planned that one any better!” Dean teased.

“Wait! I want to hear the answer though!” Kevin butted in, steering them back on track.

��NEW KID doesn’t know these things yet!” The first DJ said excitedly.

“Oh, this is too easy, though,” Pam rumbled.

“Yeah, sorry, bro, everyone knows this one,” Dean tacked on.

“Eat me,” Sam snapped back.

“But yeah, it’s Sammy for sure,” Lee agreed.

Sam rolled his eyes but the DJs just ate it up.

“Okay! Second question is—- for—- Lee! Favorite venue you’ve ever played?”

“Seriously? He gets a real question and I got a Cosmo question?” Pamela said, annoyed, but not quite into the mic.

“Seriously— I’m just reading off the list,” the younger DJ promised, holding up a clip board.

“That one’s easy— Harvelle’s back home.”

“Hands down,” Sam agreed.

“Best burgers in Nebraska, too,” Dean tacked on.

“Ellen’s gonna kill you,” Pam warned.

“Totally worth it,” Dean shot her down.

“Yeah. Nothing like playing for your hometown,” Lee finished.

“What a bunch of saps!” The older guy teased. “Okay, okay, I’ll let you have it. Sam— third question: Who would you still like to collaborate with? You’ve got Annie Hawkins on the latest album, you’ve played with some of the greats at some special events— I know you all were close with the late, great Rufus Turner and now you’re touring with his granddaughter’s band Sheriffs, Psychics and Secretaries. Who else?”

“Uh, honestly? I’d kill to play with Sarah and Provenance, even though our sounds are totally different. Maybe Mick Davies? Especially now that he’s left Men of Letters, I am looking forward to what he works on next.”

“Wow— those are not names I expected to come up today. But, yeah, okay— always the wildcard Sam Winchester!” The younger DJ seemed genuinely surprised and maybe even impressed.

Dean could tell it annoyed Sam, but he was always way smarter than anybody gave his bodybuilder-shaped self credit for.

“DEAN! Question numero four: If you weren’t a rockstar— okay, musician– what would you be doing?”

“Right now I’d be sleeping, that’s for damn sure.”

Everyone laughed and nodded. “I don’t blame you there, but for a job?”

Dean scratched his three day stubble. “I always say I’d have made a killer mechanic or car restorer, but, uh, honestly at this point in my life I’m going to go with firefighter.”

“Nice, very heroic.” The first DJ approved.

“Dude!” Sam gave him a look that asked if he was alright.

Dean shrugged. “Well, hopefully we won’t have to find out. Just a reminder we’ve got two shows at Cesar’s Palace tomorrow night and Wednesday!” he plugged like they needed help selling tickets.

“Which are completely sold out! We’ve got tickets for our listeners tomorrow morning at seven, eight and nine if you listen for the code to play.” The younger DJ picked up where Dean left off. “One more question and you guys can get on with your days. And it’s for Kevin Tran— the newest member of the band, stepping up for the now reclusive Cas Novak. Fifth and final question!---”

Dean flinched at Cas’ name coming up, but all things considered, it could have been a much more brutal comment. Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Bobby whisper something to you through the glass in the adjoining room.

“In one word describe your bandmates.”

“One word total or—?”

“One word a piece,” Sam clarified.

“Yeah one word total. Band. That’d be the worst question answered ever,” the first DJ joked.

“Okay, okay, I got it. For Pam I’ll say ‘badass’. Lee’s word will be ‘groovy’. Sam gets ‘salad’ and Dean can have ‘Trouble’.”

“Oh, fuck,” Lee actually had to cover his mouth. While everyone else just about choked on their own spit. 

Dean glared at the kid, but didn’t say anything, counting down from twenty in his head.

“It is going to be a very long tour, folks,” Sam tried to ease some of the tension, clearly the DJs did not get the significance of what was just said.

“Alright that is a wrap with Phantom Traveler, in town for just a few days on the start of their latest tour. Thank you guys, it was a blast. Their fifth album drops next month. You guys have been digging the new single, so we’re gonna close with that as we get these guys on their way.”

The intro to ‘Baby’ played in the background as everyone handed over their headphones and shook the DJs' hands. Their marketing people came in for some quick publicity shots. Dean spotted you getting matching angles, where you stood behind their photographer, for the band’s socials.

God, he wasn’t ready. He had no idea if you caught what Kevin had said or if you knew he was really talking about you. The little punk had to go and say that shit on air of all places. 

One thing was for sure, Dean’s time was running out. Sooner or later somebody was going to let it slip and it wasn’t fair to you to hear it from anyone but him. Now, he just had to figure out how.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 35: Cambiare

[llamagoddessofficial]

biggest of brain energy re warm bread and beloved skeletons - so.... might i offer you .................. patisserie/baker au??

the boys are all rival(ish) bakers/pastry chefs on the same cute little side block of a quaint walkable downtown.

Sans has that extremely detailed, finicky pastry work down pat, on top of all the strange new versions that keep, somehow, making filo dough more difficult and yet structurally impressive. he's tried all those cool gastro-chef techniques, but just loves & excels at the fancy little pastries. absolutely the type to just close the shop when he's sold out of whatever he felt interested in making a lot of that day. surprisingly good-yet-bad social media presence. makes the jokiest videos and jankiest signs advertising when he's got a new batch of Something Tasty out, but the most beautiful shots of his pastries.

Red is one of those not-so-surprisingly charming excon-type (maybe never actually in prison, but y'know) bakers that looks intimidating but makes the best goddamn homey baked goods you ever had. pies, breads, big soft filled rolls, anything that feels ghibli as hell, frankly. has a not-so-secret love of making those really decorative lattice-style pie crusts; can absolutely make art you wouldn't want to eat if not for how damned good you know the pie is. always the most slammed during autumn, has spirited """debates""" with Sans (who is directly across the cobbled street) whenever they get deliveries at the same time, often about incredibly inane but opinionated baking nuances. accidentally best friends with all the local widows and grandmas. frequently propositioned by all genders.

Skull is a bit of the odd man out - he used to work at a little old cakeshop on the corner, but Something Happened one day and that corner store has frustratingly been turned into Insert Encroaching Soulless Chain Here. he now works at the back of the little pizzeria, making the best goddamn pizza dough anyone's ever had. seeing him flip and spin those pizzas is art in and of itself. rumor still had it that there was someone on staff at that cakeshop that could make the most dazzling wedding cakes you ever did see, but they also made the flavors involved so harmonious you could cry....

....... MC is a new arrival, perhaps opening up her own little shop - a little cafe maybe, specializing in warm drinks and a simple menu of baked goods like croissants and scones and cookies, some finger foods, and most importantly Cozy Vibes.

maybe she puts out an ad for a proper baker to help her out while she makes the teas and coffees and runs the front....

... and maybe some shenanigans ensue ✧∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

genius. absolutely genius. allow me to lose my fucking mind

Mc opens up her delightful little cafe. It's small, obviously, since she's technically the only employee- though she's great at coffee she struggles to make anything more complex than a cookie for cafe food. Her croissants melt and flatten, her pies collapse, her attempts at macarons just spread out into a sheet. So! She puts out an ad!

Sans: Ironically, his habit of only making what he's interested in and randomly closing shop without warning has made his desserts even more sought after. The incredible intricate and unique nature of his treats give them an element of scarcity, and people will come from all over to get to his next batch early. The sign out the front says 'open 10am to 5pm monday to wednesday. open some thursdays, depends how i feel. closed the second friday in the month, unless we were open thursday before. open saturday. closed sunday'.

He was a bit suspicious of her cafe, he'll admit it. He's suspicious of anything new on the street. Various chain brands have been infiltrating the previously majority monster-run area, and he hates the way his favourite place is slowly being subsumed by shitty corporate machine-made food. But it only took one visit (purely out of curiosity) for him to get love at first sight.

Since his store has such a reputation, he can afford to flunk whenever he likes to go sit in with her and chat for hours; he's a welcome presence. After noticing her difficulty with baking he starts giving her tips but quickly graduates to giving her some of his stock, instantly boosting her popularity. She thinks he's giving her leftover stock he doesn't need- she has no idea he's making stuff specifically for her.

Red: Red and Pap do have a tendency to treat their business like it's a mafia. The way they call it the 'family business' often makes people think it's a front for organised crime. And it was, once- the two of them only opened the store to cover up what was happening behind the scenes. But then they enjoyed running a bakery so much that they dropped the crime. He doesn't like the way Sans has turned baking into something snooty and highbrow; Red thinks food should be delicious and comforting, not a one-bite commodity people pay out of the nose for.

Red becomes a cafe regular, he goes during breaks and straight after work. He spends most of his time standing up at the counter flirting relentlessly, but he's so on the dot that she usually has his order ready for him. He offers to teach her to make a good pie- "payment? what're you talkin' about, doll? seein' yer pretty face is payment enough fer me." There would definitely be some scenes of him teaching her to bake... standing behind her with his hands over hers, showing her the technique to fold dough, though neither of them are really concentrating because he's grinning like an idiot and she can only feel how hot her face is.

(He'd probably ruin it with a 'wish you'd pound my dough like that'. A swift smack, and the magic of the moment is over)

Skull: He's the one that responds to her ad.

Though he didn't mind his job, per say, he misses being able to make his own stuff. Pizza tossing can only do so much to fill the baking-shaped hole in his heart. He wanted to apply anyway, it was just a stroke of luck that the cafe owner turned out to be the love of his life. Though he's a bit spooky and looks at her like he can't see anything else, she's quick to accept him, telling him he can make whatever he wants- and that's when he works his magic. All the stunning cakes lining the display case are his handiwork.

He's a man of few words, and he doesn't like being in public, so he's always in the back baking and cleaning. He wishes he had the confidence to talk to her more. She brings him coffee whenever she has time, as thanks for all his hard work... she leaves foam art, since it's one of the few things she can do. Though when she leaves a heart, the coffee usually ends up going cold. He tends to just stare at the heart until the foam is gone.

[theheathenousfish]

A continuation of professor andreil. I will not apologize.

It’s the weekend. Casey and 3 of his classmates are at a restaurant celebrating the end of midterms ( which they did pretty well on, if they do say so themselves)

They were looking at the menus when Owen noticed their professor walk through the door with a red haired woman on his arm

“Hey, is that professor minyard?” Owen asked the table “and is that his wife? Didn’t he kiss professor Josten like, last month?”

Casey swirled around to look at the couple, who were walking towards the table the dean and his wife are sitting at.

“ about damn time you bring her. Jesus kid you’ve been married 10 years” the dean, wymack, grumbles.

“Oh my god!” AJ gasps “he wasn’t lying when he said prof josten wasn’t his boyfriend ! He’s the side piece!”

A few minutes later professors day, Boyd-wilds , walker-Reynolds, and Josten walk in and to the table.

“ hey Matt, how are the kids?” Prof josten asks

“ Neil! My man! Teenagers are so hard. Cody and Marlo have discovered my college photos and are giving me shit for how my hair looked”

Just then, a second minyard enters and sits down? It’s Avery’s turn to say something “I’m sorry, what? He has a twin?” Therefore she does.

Professor day scowls and says “ Neil your monster is here.”

“Drew! I thought you couldn’t make it”

“ sit down, junkie.I’m here.” Prof minyard mutters. In a louder tone asks “ why are we here day?”

“Why do you have something you were going to do?”

“ I want to go home and do nothing.”

Prof josten chokes on his water.

“ kevin” Mr wymack says “ tell them or I will.” Prof day huffs “ wymack is my father. I found out last year and I told him a week ago.”

“ this is why I’m here? Kevin, I could be asleep right now. I just worked a 24 hour shift.” Possible prof minyard complains

“Aaron! Be nice.” The red haired woman scolds

“ ok, so, that’s not our minyard.” Casey confirms

“Our minyard?” Aj asks

“Yes”

After about an hour of the teacher meeting talking about stuff, they start to, one by one, venture back home. All that’s left is the real professor minyard, prof josten, and the dean and his wife( who’s name is apparently abby)

“So, um, wymack, we have news. Andrew and I are married. We thought you should know first.” Prof josten states

“Oh! Congratulations boys! When did this happen?” Abby gushes

“5 years ago.” Prof minyard says flatly

“Christ, you two will be death of me. 5 years? Seriously?” Wymack sounds exasperated

Once the teachers leave the students just look at each other stunned.

“So he’s not the side piece, he’s the main piece.” Aj says so solemnly everyone else thinks she’s trying to be funny. She’s not.

Andrew is running late for work. Like, stupidly late.

When they got home, Neil jumped him and they’d spent most of the night having mind blowing sex, then when he woke up it was 10am and sir jumped onto the bed landing directly on his dick. Neil just laughed at that.

His coffee had grounds in it.

He grabbed Neil’s lunch on the way out.

And he’d forgotten to put his ring on.

He was having a bad day.

Thankfully most of his class was also late. “ today we will be visiting the butcher case. The key points are on the board, write them down. Neil josten will be joining us”

Just then Neil walks in, looking so fucking gorgeous. How dare he.

“ hey Drew. I brought YOUR lunch and some coffee. Also your ring is in my pocket if you want it.” Neil says. He’s so sweet, he’s beautiful, and kind, and Andrew loves him.

Andrew pulls Neil in by his pocket and gets his ring out. He puts it on, obviously.

“Care to introduce yourself junkie?” Andrew drawls

“Sure. Hello, my name is Neil josten, I’m here to consult on the butcher case. Any questions?”

A student raises his hand “are you two married?”

“That’s none of your concern,” Neil says coldly

“Why are you consulting on this case?” another student asks

“Because this case is personal, and also because Andrew asked.”

“ sit down rabbit.” Andrew murmurs “We will start with Nathan wesninski’s connection to the yakuza,specifically the moriyamas.

Neil and Andrew switch places when it’s stated that a college student was kidnapped and tortured

“ in fall of 2006 i was kidnapped and tortured by my fathers people. I was brought to my childhood home where my father was going to question and kill me. My uncle on my mother’s side came to my aid, and shot my father. By then I had sustained serious injuries to my face, arms and hands. I was brought to a hospital with two FBI agents in my room. I was demanding to see my teammates. In spring of that year my father killed my mother, she died on a beach in California. Her body was recovered by the FBI for evidence.” Neil recounted

“Junkie” Andrew asked softly

“ I’m fine.”

“I want a 20 page report on my desk by Friday.”Andrew told his students

Neil didn’t have class today, Andrew knew.

“Drew. I need to go. I want to go home. I need you.” Neil whispers

“I know ,love, I know. We will.” Andrew reassures him

They got home hours ago, and Neil immediately went to their bed and beckoned Andrew to come lay down with him.

Andrew was happy. He was so fucking happy.

Neil was kissing down Andrew’s neck as he thought. Andrew gave a shiver of pleasure when Neil sucked a mark just under his ear. He was going to have to cover that up tomorrow.

Andrew was home

[weird-an]

It had been Steve's idea. 31 hours on the road. Billy had been driving like a maniac. Only three stops at ratty motels. Now they are there.

Billy has been so cold since the Mind Flayer. Now he feels warmer, the sinking sun still stroking his skin, chasing away the iciness the shadow left behind.

He's here. He's home. Toes in the sand and listening to the waves, Steve leaning against him.

"You wanna go for some pizza?" Steve plays with a strand of Billy's hair, scratching his head and tugging it a little.

Billy hums. He feels so... calm. He doesn't want to go back. He knows he has to, because Neil needs him around for a while and he can't afford to stay away longer than a week. But this week? A week in San Diego, fucking paradise.

They sit down at a corner table, Billy is stretching his limbs and jawns.

Steve snorts. "You're like a cat sometimes."

"'m not," Billy says, staring at the little menu in front of him.

"You are. You sit on furniture, your hair is everywhere, you purr.."

"I'm not a cat." Billy hits him with the menu. Not hard.

Steve snickers. "Totally."

A voice from a past he can't forget suddenly starts to speak. "Welcome! We make everything fresh here at Surfer Boy, except for our pineapple, which comes from a can, but I still recommend slapping some juicy- Billy?"

Billy looks up. Argyle stares back at him. The same Argyle he kept running around with years ago, before Neil felt social services and too many debtors breathing down his neck and brought Billy to the dump that calls itself Hawkins. To the monster that took everything from Billy - his body, his mind - and nearly his life.

"Argyle?" Billy clutches the menu in his hand and suddenly there are strong warm arms around him, dragging him up and he's hugged so hard he can't breathe, getting lift up a little - because Argyle had always been taller and used it to his advantage.

Argyle lets go and grins at him. "I didn't know you were back."

"It's.. just a trip." Billy rubs the scar on his chest. He regrets wearing only a crop top. Argyle has to notice the scars on his body.

"It was my idea. After Billy's... accident." Steve stands up.

"I'm Steve." He says with a big plastic smile on his lips and oh fuck. He's fucking jealous. Billy never thought that Steve would be jealous. Something inside Billy purrs at that.

Argyle looks back and forth between Steve and Billy. He stretches his hand out for Steve to shake.

"Nice to meet ya, dude." Argyle gives Billy a goofy grin. "I'll get you guys the finest pizza in California!“

Steve watches him leave to get their order. "His hair is pretty."

Billy presses his knee against Steve's. "I know. But you're my…" He swallows against the panic in his stomach. He can't say it. He's always so scared that someone hears.

Steve puts his hand on Billy's knees, gently squeezing it.

"You're mine, too," he says. Billy feels lighter.

Argyle brings them their pizzas and a giant cake in the colors of a rainbow.

"Confetti cake is on the house," he explains. "Not every time you meet a friend that got lost."

Steve stares at him again. But this time more fascinated than jealous. "What are you doing after work?"

Billy blinks in surprise.

Argyle laughs and points at the joint behind his ear. "Sharing a smoke with an old friend and a new one?"

Billy feels so warm like he has never been cold before.

@harringroveweek

[super-unpredictable98]

The Eighth Child (~TUA AU~) - Season 4

Chapter 3: Next Stop at The End of Time

Warning: Strong language, mild sexual content, death, talk of addiction

(The Eighth Child Masterlist)

Victoria was scared to walk inside. Partially because the place was condemned and could crumble on them just like when Viktor started having a fit back in the day, but also because she didn't know what to expect. Ben was there and Five said it was her Ben, but what if it wasn't? Last time she had any contact with him, they were fighting for their lives, right before he disappeared forever. It was hard to believe he would simply waltz back into their lives.

All of the doubt and the nerves disappeared the moment she laid eyes on him and realized that was her brother. It wasn't the same as looking at the knockoff Sparrow version, it was a bond that survived time, death, and several ends of the world.

"Ben!" She screamed when the door opened and she ran into his arms crying. "Bennie Boo, I missed you so much, oh my... where have you been?"

"Another timeline," he chuckled and hugged his sister. "Someone told me you married Klaus! How insane is that?"

"I know, I know... it's crazy, but you'll get used to it," she laughed, drying her tears. "You need to meet my daughter, her name is Fortune. We gave her the middle name Bennie."

"That's so sweet... ugh too sweet, you're gonna make me emotional! I didn't think you'd ever forgive me after I made Klaus kiss Jill," he sighed.

"Oh, that? That was a billion years ago, I swear I don't resent you at all for that. It was your chance and you took it, I would've done the same. You need to visit my bakery! The Ben special on my menu is your favorite, torta holandesa."

"With Calipso cookies on the rim?" he chuckled.

"Of course, it's not torta holandesa without Calipso cookies on the rim!" She squeezed him tighter and covered his cheek in kisses. "And when our youngest is born, you have to be there! We'll know very soon if it's a boy or a girl! I have so much to tell you, just... so much."

"Are they always so gross? Good thing she hates me," Sparrow Ben scoffed. "Helloooo, we're all in danger?"

"Oh fuck, yeah," Victoria swallowed nervously, trying to catch her breath. Okay, so what I know is that Abigail, Dad's wife, somehow disguised herself as Sy Grossman and gave us the marigold hoping we'd take it. You're very welcome for that, by the way, we'd be very screwed if I let you do that. Then her plan was that we'd look for Jennifer, who has some sort of anti-marigold in her called durango. Once those two substances interact, horrible things happen... the cleanse. Which from what she said is just killing everyone."

"If it's so dangerous for marigold and durango to interact, that's why Dad locked Jennifer away, which means he didn't know about his wife's plan," Five said.

"He didn't, she said she was doing that because she didn't ask to be brought back to life and blah blah blah," Victoria rolled her eyes. "She created these elements and she wants them to stop existing via the cleanse. In a way, Ben saved all of humanity when his tentacles killed Jennifer and himself that night, this reaction had already started. I remember the glowing rash on his arm, of course he couldn't just leave an innocent girl to be destroyed even though that's what Dad told us to do."

"Good thing I died that once then," Ben tilted his head, thinking. "So the cleanse would be like... a monster that carries the seeds of its own destruction? Kills everyone and then itself?"

"Exactly. Maybe if we got Jennifer to drink some marigold, the cleanse would happen in a contained environment and end this nightmare," Victoria suggested.

"I don't think there is containing the monster, don't you remember what happened the first time?" Luther murmured, giving Ben a look.

"I guess we should first figure out how to get the timelines to merge and leave us with one," Five pinched the bridge of his nose. He was definitely too old to be dealing with that sort of stress.

"Oh easy then," Lila joked.

"There are portals all over the place, we could go down there and try to decode the map. Find a way to shut down the train, anything," Ben said.

"He might be right, we should go down there and see who's in command of the train," Diego nodded. "Let's go."

"Hey guys... I sort of can't," Victoria murmured. "I need to look for Klaus, I think he might have relapsed. We had a big fight and... I need to get him back."

"Can't this wait?" Sparrow Ben grunted.

"No, it actually can't. My husband might be in danger and I don't care if he's a junkie or a germophobe, I love him. I should've never said that him getting clean was the worst thing that happened to me."

"That's harsh..." Allison mumbled.

"Shut the fuck up! I'm already very sad!"

"Alright, we'll go and meet here again ASAP, once we're all together, we fix this shit," Five walked to the door, but Vicky stopped him.

"I need your gun."

"What?"

"I need it, if Klaus is with some sort of dealer or gang member, I need the gun to protect myself and him."

"Unbelievable," he handed her the revolver. "Bring it back without a scratch, that's company property."

**

"I see a huge change in your future, it seems a few people who are holding you down will finally be out of your way... it'll hurt, but you need to let go to make way for your new and improved life," Klaus looked at the tarot cards.

"Should I start the new business then?" The lady in front of him asked.

"Definitely, I see hard times in the beginning, but look," he picked up one of the cards. "Prosperity in the future if you persist."

"Thank you so much," she gave him the payment for the session.

"No, thank you, my dear," he smiled, counting the money.

The lady left and Quinn came in followed by another woman, a beautiful woman in a skimpy outfit.

"Moneeeey!" Klaus cheered. "Here, now you know I intend on paying my debt, so please let me go home. My daughter is waiting, my wife must be worried sick..."

"Nice try, but you're not leaving until the 40k is paid," Quinn grabbed the money. "This is for food, rent, supplies, the stuff you took last night... now you choose, my little star."

He held up ten bucks or a little packet with a couple of pills.

Klaus sighed defeated and took the pills before looking at the woman by the door. "Come on in, let's start your reading, yeah?"

"She's not here for a reading," Quinn chuckled and tossed a strip of condoms at him. "She's here for your other services. Five hundred an hour."

"Wait no no no! I have a wife, I can't do this! I have a family! No offense to this beautiful lady, but..."

"You'll do your job until your debt is paid!"

"Don't worry, you'll like it," the woman placed her hand on Klaus' chest. "I love feminine men, you're so cute."

"So does my wife! I'm sorry, I can't! I can't!" Klaus pleaded while she tried to take his clothes off.

"That's just too damn bad, isn't it?" Quinn huffed while closing the door.

"Too damn bad indeed, too bad you can't take no for an answer," Victoria pointed the gun at him. She had seen that place before, she knew that's where Klaus came to get drugs.

"Who are you?" He raised his hands.

"The wife. Now you can let my husband go or you can go ahead and meet your maker."

"That's cute... do you even know how to shoot? You're some dumb housewife with her daddy's gun."

It had been a while since Victoria experienced that intoxicating feeling, being underestimated because she looked so delicate and docile when she knew she had the power to end that person's life.

"You wanna take the chance?" She smirked.

"You haven't killed a roach in your life, Freckles..."

"Yeah, I haven't," she faked defeat. "But I have killed dozens of people."

Without waiting, she shot him in the head and immediately reached into his pocket to get his gun so he wouldn't try to retaliate in his last moments.

"Piece of shit... girls! You can all go!" She screamed at the young ladies in tiny rooms, probably just as helpless as her husband.

She then opened the door with both guns ready to shoot. The woman, who was still trying to grind against Klaus, let out a yelp and backed away.

"Never touch my man again or I'll put a bullet in your fucking head too! Scram!"

"Victoria!" Klaus was crying tears of happiness, relief, and guilt. "Victoria, my Liebling, my baby! I'm so sorry..."

He ran into her arms and she embraced him too. He felt like a failure for relapsing, but she was ready to help.

"No, no I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of that stuff, I should've helped you get over your fear, I should've been more empathetic."

"I should've tried harder, looked for therapy. I also said a bunch of shit I didn't mean, I'm sorry. I yelled at Fortune, I'm such a shit dad..."

"No you're not, you're the best dad ever, you just need help," she smiled sadly. "Tunnie is okay, she's with Claire and Ray."

"So you still love me?"

"Of course I do, I looked for you all night and just killed a man because I love you."

"Help me get clean again? Help me be a better Klaus that you can be attracted to again?"

"Of course," she kissed him softly. "We need to meet the others, there's a whole timeline bullshit going on, I'll explain on the way... but hey! Ben is back! Our Ben!"

"Really? Oh my..." Klaus grinned. "We'll go, we'll go. There's just a place I need to go first."

**

Victoria drove Klaus to the nearest AA meeting. He really wanted to do things right this time.

The moment he entered the room, there was nobody there except for the chairwoman, who was already gathering her things.

"The meeting is canceled," she said. "Nobody's here."

"I'm here," Klaus shrugged.

"Take a pamphlet..."

"What's your name?"

"Stephanie."

"Stephanie, listen, I've been to enough court-ordered rehab to know that if one person shows up, it's a meeting. You might make a motion to adjourn, but I'm not seconding and I've had one hell of a slip, and I'm not leaving until I get my one day chip."

"Fine... sit," Stephanie shook her head, pulling out a binder.

"Well, my name is Klaus-"

"Ah ah, no. If we're gonna stick to the rules, we'll stick to the rules," she started reading from the binder. "Alcoholics Anonymous is a fellowship of people who share their experience, strengths..."

"It's very important, I know, and you've said it a thousand times. I've heard it a thousand times, can we get to the part where we share?"

"The floor is now open for sharing," she tried not to laugh. "You have two minutes! No more than that."

"Wonderful!" Klaus clapped and raised his hand.

"Alright, how about you?"

"Moi?" She faked surprise. "Thank you Steph, I can call you Steph, right?"

"No."

"Okay... powerlessness... it's all there on the first step, little words on the page, but I never knew what it really meant until I screamed at my pregnant wife, screamed at my child, and took her Barbie cash to only then be forcefully pimped out by a psycho who I owed money to..." He sat down. "Before that, I had three years clean, three whole years. The problem was I was trying to do it all by myself. Staying in my safe little bubble, scared of death, scared of life... scared of life and taking it out on the people who love me the most, one of whom is sitting outside by the way."

"Hey!" Victoria waved through the door. "You go, Babe!"

"That's my wife slash sister," he whispered.

"I'm not gonna ask," Stephanie breathed.

"So I'm saying it for the first time in my life without irony..." he took a deep breath. "That my name is Klaus and I'm an alcoholic. I'm also a complete drug addict. And while we're at it, I'm probably also addicted to love, and sex. Which has been tough cause I haven't gotten laid much since I went totally nuts and my wife stopped being attracted to me because I became insanely boring. I don't even know how I got her pregnant again..."

"Hey, I'm so sorry to interrupt," Victoria opened the door again. "Can he get his chip? We really need to go right now! Claire just said she just got visited by a woman claiming to be Grandma who took Fortune away when she wasn't looking. I already called Five, we're going to see Dad."

"Shit, my daughter!" Klaus took the one day chip and ran off. "Thanks for the help, Steph!"

Tag List: @jozstankovich @firstpersonnarrator @salvador-daley

[bh-writingdump]

Zeek's Freaks

Original

[old draft, messy] / AO3

Nurse Andrews flipped through his notes. Of course on his last day Dr Shapiro piled up so much the clamp could barely hold it. He came to a stop beside the first habitation cell. The lamia within took zir time slithering over. A lanky lamia towered over him, making him feel like a child in comparison.

A whistle drew his attention to the smug lamia. “you forgot something.”. Zir luminescent pinkish-orange tongue flicked in and out invitingly. In his lower periphery something wiggled. Nurse Andrew’s gaze dropped to zir hand in an OK gesture, “Gotcha.” Peaches snickered.

He rolled his eyes, like he definitely didn’t see that coming. “Oh darn.”

He muttered beneath his breath. A soft snort came over the light chatter from neighboring habitation cells.

Flipping through his patient files, one of them floated to the ground.

Subject 071? Vanilla? He’d been transferred years ago, how was he still in the system… hmm

Pronouns: he/him, they/them

That isn’t Vanilla, then who is it? Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me? How childish could you possibly be?

Previous Occupation: monster fuck boy

“you okay, zeek-a-reeno?”

His tongue felt like sand paper reading what came next. He might as well have a dozen gallbladder stones clattering around his body.

Items of Note: wears gawdy black and white clothing that gives him a slutty Halloween look down to his disgusting fake bleach blond hair.

“what is..”

‘Additional notes’ read in Dr Glover’s neat handwriting. Nurse Andrews crumpled up the trash, tossing it away, only for it to drift upward and out of view.

Paper crinkled.

“g l o v e r.”

Nurse Andrew hurriedly flipped through the rest of his notes. He desperately scanned each page.

Subject Patient: 069 Peaches     ze/zir

Previous occupation: [redacted]

Items of Note: collects shoes

Subject Patient: 404 Ocean   any/all pronouns

Previous Profession: [redacted]

Items of note: can’t stand being alone, never show him your back

Additional notes: needs more stimuli

Subject Patient: 999 Crimson   he/him

Previous Profession: engineer

Items of note: only lamia from original group still in treatment]

Nurse Andrews flipped through his notes at the speed of light.

No, no, no! He’d taken months collecting all those.

“ay, zeek? earth to zeek? listen, s’alright, we can—"

After the nurse took a photo of Crimson struggling to open up a pickle jar, many patients insisted that they’d only take the psychological eval and additional tests if they also had theirs taken. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth, Nurse Andrews found himself with a scrap book’s worth of photos.

All gone.

Every. Single. One.

The entire wing seemed to go silent.

“is it just me, or is dessert on the menu?” A husky voice rumbled beside Nurse Andrew’s ear.

Ze followed the low rumbling purr.

How long was he  standing there?

Enticing hooded sockets crease in pleasure at the attention. “cuz i just realized i got a sweet tooth.”

The nurse blinked owlishly. Like he’s suddenly being pulled out of quick sand.

“Took you long enough?..”

“and i wanna eat you up.” To drive zir point home, zir long thick tongue slid out. Dizzyingly bright and dexterous with a single row of bumps that dissected it down the middle. So dumbstruck, he nearly reached out and touched it. “heh, you got something on your tie.”

Zir phalange hooked around it through the ventilation holes, giving it a light tug. There, Peaches held it. The two staring into each others eyes.

Bit by bit, pieces came back into focus. He was looking at the files, right? The one he dropped is curiously absent. He dismissed it, instead vying to flip through Dr Glover’s report on Peaches. Absently, he tugged back his tie like one would an offered flower.

Noticeably, Dr Glover removed nearly every privilege Peaches had after yesterday’s incident. Zir habitation cell was bare except for what Peaches wore. A sunset hoodie that advertises some mountain resort the nurse visited as a tot. It only reached zir midriff. Usually, ze’d be sporting a loose-fitting beige skirt as well.

Nurse Andrews chewed on his cheek. Peaches curled zir body over zir pelvis using zir tail. Nurse Andrews would need to find another one on his lunch. Finding one large enough in a short span of time would be challenging but possible.

“Dr Glover gave me the impression that your spirits were exceedingly low. Peaches, is that the case today as well?” In an obtuse way, the way zir smile faltered almost seemingly apologetic aside from zir relaxed manner.

Peaches lightly taped on the glass.

No spinner.

Of course they took that too.

“don’t know what you expect, hun.” Peaches leans against the plexiglass, taking advantage of zir full height over Nurse Andrews. Not very challenging since most were taller than him. Nurse Andrews struggled to make eye contact, craning his neck far back.

“A minute of effort.”

Zir words take on a musical undertone. “said i was sorry, didn’t i? what more do ya want?” Zir gaze wandered a little lower to inspect the offered lolly.

One of Peaches’ long phalanges dipped through the ventilation hole, tugging on the lolly. Yet Nurse Andrews held tight. He whispered. “Don’t pinch panties if you want the Nelsons guard’s help. Call me next time.”

Peaches stared at Nurse Andrews like he’d grown another head. Zir smile grew crooked. “ya think they’ll give calls when ya leave, huh? heh. didn’t think didn’t ya say ya were a realist?” Zir laughter comes out stale.

Yesterday’s magic level assessment dug into the nurse’s mind like a rusty nail. “Arrangements have been made.” He uttered only half paying attention to the charts. Peaches pops the lolly in, noticeably a lack of tongue. Still, Peaches hummed like ze can taste it via thoughts and prayers alone. “has anyone toldja you’re a sweetheart, doc, cuz ya take the cake.”

His heart palpitates along with a rush of dopamine. “Not a doctor.”

“still a doc in my book.” Peaches hums. Zir gaze drifts in the direction of zir brother. “I know Ocean’s a handful—”

The nurse’s eyes burned as holes into his clipboard. “Don’t be dramatic.”

“When I’m gone, make sure he isn’t alone--”

“--Dr Shapiro would like you to answer this survey.” He interrupted him off with a glare as he leans back.

Peaches’ sighs, smiling in the dopiest manner a person could.

Nurse Andrew’s lip quivers for a moment before he gets it under control. “Once your released—“

“I Didn’t Know You Were A Comedian, Doctor Andrew.” Another lamia teased from the cell behind him. The complex battle formation and arithmetic covered the glass of his cell framing their face. “Was It Something I Said?”

“No, Wine. I leave the humor to you.” Nurse Andrew replied curtly.

A warm breeze blew over Nurse Andrew’s neck, setting all his hairs on end. Yanking up his coat, ruckus laugher errupted from behind him, passing from cell to cell like the common cold. “sorry, hun, ya looked a lil cold. couldn’t have ya turn inta a zeeksickle.”

“Unfortunately for you, Peaches--” Dr Andrew struggled to sharpen his tongue. “—The ambient air temperature is perfect. Now, Dr Glover requests that you refrain from any further harassment. Unlike me, they think you can actually be rehabilitated.” He punctuated the thought with a click of his pen.

“aww, zeekster, your gonna make me blush.” The moment Nurse Andrews turned; he could feel the lamia’s gaze take a generous pass at zir behind. (The lab coat wasn’t necessary for his work anyway.) Not that he’d allowed Peaches the satisfaction of knowing, he had other patients to see after all.

The next several patient’s exams passed uneventfully. Wine, while forthcoming, continued to derail the survey with small talk and little passive aggressive comments whenever Nurse Andrews had the audacity to cut off his chess rant.

Error blipped into the antivoid as long as his control collar allowed.

The “Pied Piper” as everyone called her, went so far as to approach the glass. Nurse Andrews could never see more than her teeth beneath her hood but progress is progress. Plus, her new spring tune had a rejuvenating quality that even Nurse Andrews couldn’t deny.

For once, Posca took notice of him. Though, it only after Nurse Andrews admitted to wearing the loose-fitting black dress pants for a high wasted look. 

Posca raced across the cell. His arms legs and face were somehow all covered in marker. The heterochromic skeleton’s eye flashed a heart and swirl, “Ezekiel,” He tsked. “You Should Wear It Below Your Waist More Often. Something Like An Unsaturated Orange Or Pink. I Know You Don’t Like Color But It’d Really Compliment Your Bleach Blond Hair.” Nurse Andrew resisted the urge to facepalm but Ink still picked up on his displeasure.

Was it really that obvious?

Was he losing his touch?

“All I’m Saying Is Don’t Be Shy With Showing Off What You Got. I’m Sure You Know You A Superb Ass. It’s A Shame You Don’t Have Any Good Fits.”

Nurse Andrew clicked his pen rapidly. “That will be all for today, Posca.”

Nurse Andrews eyed the yellow line. The paint below it read as follows:

“Please remain six feet from the glass at all times.”

It was a laughable rule, especially among habitation cells without ventilation holes. The intercom was turned on manually. In Crimson’s case, the team replaced the glass monthly due in part to all the scratches obscuring view of him. Not to mention his magic had a tendency of weakening even the most impact resistant glass over time. Nurse Andrews strutted up to the glass, careful to remain a few inches from touching it.

The fog, as per usual, as thick as pea soup. He’d be lucky to catch a glimpse of his illusive patient.

“Greetings, Crimson. You’ll be glad to hear that Nurse David will make a full recovery. The report neglects to mention whether or not you warned him about biting off his nose but I’m sure you did. Still, in the future, I’d advise utilizing verbal methods a touch longer.”

A low rumbling chuckle crackles over the intercom. He must’ve hotwired it again as he was nowhere near the panel. Instead, he dwelled somewhere in the thick fog that pervaded his cell. “what can I say, doll? man’s gotta eat.”

Nurse Andrew snorts. “Your Vegan.”

…

“lettuce say ‘ve bean branching out.”

His lip curls ever so slightly despite his best intentions. “Peas branch out elsewhere for all our sanity.”

…

“was that a… heh, it was, wasn’t it?”

Shit.

Nurse Andrew held up the clipboard, covertly covering his face. His white makeup could only conceal so much of his burning cheeks. When Nurse Andrew finally dropped the clipboard, something moved by the bean bag chair. The elaborate maze of things made it difficult to make out any clear shapes.

“admit it. yer dying ta break out in puns. like a moth ta flame.”

“If you wish to regain TV privileges, I suggest you…” Nurse Andrew mumbles, the fog parts just enough to reveal the silhouette of someone behind the bean bag chair.

He revealed himself willingly. This should be great.

“Thank you Crimson, as I was saying…”

Suddenly, it darts from the other side of the habitation cell.

“Charming.”

Why am I not surprised? Oh well, cat and mouse it is.

Nurse Andrew walked toward the far end of the cell where the fog was the thickest.

“As I was saying, TV privileges will be reinstated when and only when you reveal yourself.”

Some days he should really mind the yellow line.

A massive set of fangs lunges out of nowhere. Crimson’s hairy legs slam against the glass, his webs sending gusts of dust filling the air. His red eye lights glowing like demons in tiny cones of light. He lets out a horrified scream, stumbling back. His goggles fell off and clip board skittering across the floor. Breathing felt like running up ten flights at full speed.

An unhinged laughter silenced the entire cell block. “oi, level bait, don’t go falling for me just yet. ya might even get me hooked.” He cackled. His sharpened hook arm dragged along the glass while his spider legs arched up against the glass, making him look even taller.

Frantic flute noises cut through his laughter. Each time he tried to speak, a shrill tone filled the air. Pied leans against the adjacent cell wall. An oversized hoodie covers all but his silver fanged smile.

“can it, kazoo!” Crimson snaps.

Morse code beeping echoes across the hall. “NOW THAT’S JUST RUDE!” Ocean chided from the furthest cell back. “YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER. NO DOCTOR WILL WANT—"

“Ocean,” Nurse Andrews coughed. Hurriedly, he put on his glasses again, taking care to keep his eyes closed until doing so. “You’re up next.”

“awww, c’mon, doll. was only joking.” His grin sharpened, showing off a shiny golden tooth, “A little.”

In several quick strides, Nurse Andrews roughly yanked out the food tray, slamming it shut with a photograph. “Don’t bite this one. There won’t be another specialist.”

Nurse Andrews raised his voice. “That’s a shame. I’d hate for the warden to hear of this. He’s particularly keen on finding that bean bag chair.”

For a beat, Crimson misses his cue. His clawed prosthetic gingerly running over the far sleeker and lighter model in the picture. He nodded, slowly putting his mask back on.

Crimson slammed his fist against the glass, cracks immediately spiderweb across it. “yer bein’ awfully sensitive over a lil joke. cut a pal some slack. not like we met yesterday, bait”

“5 days, 6 months and 3 years. 26 more including my training. However, I thought you grew out of this… juvenile behavior.” Dr Andrew added with a hint of bitterness.

Crimson shoves the photo in his vest pocket. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Nurse Andrews marched over to Ocean’s cell, feeling a strange lack of sins crawling up his spine.

What was wrong with everyone today?

Perhaps there wasn’t enough monster food in their diet. Nurse Andrews scribbles into his notebook. ‘check diet.’

Morse code chirps fill his ears. He distantly notices the repetition of his name but keeps writing.

‘peaches skirt.’

Less pauses came between sentences.

‘set up appointment for prosthetic fitting + sea tea for abrasions’

“There.” He sighed. Everything was in order.

Looking up, the habitation cell before him looked straight out of an aquarium. A scaffolding ladder lead up to the water level. Below, all manner of underwater toys lay strewn about from diving torpedos to suspended rings to swim through. Pressed up against the glass, a starry eyed dolphin siren beamed. In one acoustic meatus a ear piece poked out.

That’s good. It must be working well if he hadn’t taken out this one.

His finger never left his clicker. Yet, he didn’t say a word. Ocean cocked his head and brow-bone tense with a story to tell. He hurried taps into his tiny data pad attached to the glass.

Words appeared in cyan font on an identical screen on the other side of the glass. “DOCTOR, YOU DON’T LOOK SO WELL… VERY PALE. YOU KNOW, I HEARD THAT HUMANS ARE MADE OF 75% WATER, YOU MUST’VE PERSPERATED TOO MUCH WITH CRIMSON. WHY DON’T YOU TAKE A BREAK AND WE CAN CONTINUE ONCE YOU’RE WELL?”

Buttering him up or not, Nurse Andrew could already smell the fear sweat. He’d been at it for nearly an hour, it hardly warranted a break but they couldn’t fire him on his last day.

Nurse Andrew considered the potential ramifications. Dr Shapiro could fire him. Granted, if  he was out by the end of the day, what was the point? Plus, Dr Shapiro wasn’t the sort to waste labor when it was available, even if she wanted it gone. “We’ll resume in 10.”

“I LOOK FORWARD TO IT!” Ocean’s tail slapped against the water, sending a bit of spray across the glass.

Nurse Andrews popped through several thick security doors.

“Ezekiel, done so soon?” A despondent soul crooned. “Did crazy ol 999 scare you again?” They sniffed. Their vulture instincts served them well.

“Actually, Crimson and I had a delightful conversation about his ambition to open a repair shop. I’ve seen a great deal of progress. If it weren’t for my absence, he’d have been out by the quarterly review. What about you, Doctor Glover?” He hummed. “I heard Peaches was quite.. insistent the other day.”

Dr Glover stiffened at his smile.

“Don’t worry, I told zem to… give you some space. Ze was quite accommodating. It’s amazing what happens when you don’t confiscate zir undergarments.”

Dr Glover body checked the nurse into the crumbling asbestos wall. Dry wall dusted his hair and shoulders. The nurse coughed. Blood covered his elbow. Their hands slipped around his collar like a glove, hefting his short and stout frame high off the linoleum. “it doesn’t even have genitals! Why would it—”

“They say a smile is worth a million words, don’t you agree-ack!.” The corner of his lips twitched.

“Where is it?” Their head swiveled around. The shit for brains doc finally locked on the hole in the wall. Their breath hitched.

“Don’t worry… I have… copies… for the whole family.”

As if nothing happened, they dropped him, brushing off his shoulders while they’d rather break him like a twig. “You know as well as I do they’re a luxury. We got other mouths to feed and 69 needs the motivation. You can’t just give it anything it wants willy nilly. It’ll get entitled. Self righteous.”

Whatever they saw on the nurse’s face seemed to disappoint them. “Don’t think I didn’t see the bean bags.”

“Bean bags?” Dr Andrews hummed contemplatively. “Ah yes, I remember now. Those awful lumpy chairs. I honestly cant understand why anybody would choose that shade of brown. It’s a blessing in disguise. Whoever it was did.. whatsername a favor.”

The sound of drywall crumbling draws his eye to the hole fist embeded in the wall. “Derek and you better not forget it, snowflake.” For such a sculpted person, build to tear someone limb from limb, it was difficult to see why a tank wanted to do the work of surgeon. However, given time, the nurse saw glimpses of that soft underbelly. For once in a very long time, Nurse Andrews saw he misjudged the fellow enby. Someone as independent and focused wouldn’t harbor such fire at the slight on behalf of a jilted friend or bedmate. Though, the idea that someone as strong willed as Dr Glover could be brought under Shapiro’s spell..

He shivered.

Dr Glover smirked. “I don’t care how far you go. Nobody will hire your unscrupulous ass from Seattle to New York. Unlike you, Derek’s friends back him up. You could learn a thing or two. Too bad you picked with the freaks.”

Their goggles slipped from their forehead, perfectly landing on their nose. “It’s only a matter of time before you’re behind bars.”

A whisper of a memory tickles Andrew’s ear. “i can’t sleep. i can’t eat. the only thing that makes me feel anything was fucking and now i can’t even do that.” Peaches curled up into a ball, covering the bruise ze got from slamming zir head into the wall. “i’m just a defective whore who never should’ve been born.”

Nurse Andrews’s hands formed into fists. Taking the goggles off and setting his clipboard aside, Ezekiel opened the cell door. He kneels in front of Peaches.

Peaches rubbed the tears from zir eyes. “A freak of nature, you know bitties aren’t even supposed to get this big. Much less lamia.” Ze hiccuped. “My magic’s all fucked. Freakish. Perverted.”

Ezekiel reaches out. Something told him he should hold hands but it was like a thick force field surrounded the trembling lamia. “If you keep this up, you won’t leave any more freak for the rest of us.” Peaches’ gasps pause, he pops up like a prarier dog.

“b-but y-your normal.” Peaches sniffles. “y-you’re good.”

Something sickly crawled along Ezekiel’s back. His own thoughts ready to drown him at a moment’s notice. Carefully, Ezekiel eased the hairnet securing his wig in place.

“whole and.. and..”

More of the sickly crawling sensation writhed over his shoulders, head and neck. The thoughts ready to spill over the dam he  so carefully constructed all those years ago.

“zeek i—” I held up a finger, silencing him.

Ezekiel carefully worked off the special effects make up covering the side of his face, covering the whole in his ear.

Finally, he past to the hardest part. Unbuttoning the first two buttons on his shirt, just enough that Peaches could see where his original flesh ended and other began. If he’d shown the other side, it would’ve gone all the way through.

“Babies born as witches get their…” He trailed off, the words not coming to him.

All of a sudden, Peaches’s arms encircled him, yanking him into the tightest hug of his life. He gasped. Not frightened, just the shire surprised mixed withs something else, relief?

“us freaks need to stick together.” He whispered into the side that didn’t have an ear.

“What the hell are you smiling about?!”

Nurse Andrews sighed. “There’s one thing you can always trust in our line of work and that is the gossip mill. It’s unfortunate you didn’t learn that during our friendship. Otherwise, you’d have a leg to stand on. As it is, you’ll finish Crimson’s exam for me today.”

She sneered. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe but you make time for Derek. He too will let you slip out for lunch, correct? You two really should keep it to the bedroom. Board rooms are notoriously insecure.”

Nurse Andrews waved a USB drive. “Don’t worry, this isn’t the only one either.”

The moment Dr Glover veins on her forehead popped, Nurse Andrews muttered. “Good grief.”

“It’s your lucky day, monster fucker!” Dr Glover grabbed him by the lab coat, throwing him into the laundry shoot. “I’m taking you out with the trash!” They gave him another solid shove before stalking off.

“Bloody Brilliant.” Nearly thirty minutes later, Nurse Andrews managed to escape the clutches of the tube. He checked himself in the bathroom. His back screamed. Pulling off his shirt, there was already a lovely little bruise forming. Plus, he chipped tooth. “Fucking perfect. The Blue menace will eat me alive.”

Sure enough, Ocean gasped the moment he was within eye shot, exclaiming. He darted to the glass, typing into his data pad. “DOCTOR! HOW IN THE STARS DID THIS HAPPEN? LET ME LOOK AT IT. I AM AN EXQUISITE HEALER."

“Greetings Ocean.” Nurse Andrews continued staring at his clipboard, gritting his teeth. The damn ear prosthetic kept itching. “Dr Viola informed us what happened when she helped you with the radio. Unfortunately, it was not good news.”

Faster than Nurse Andrews would’ve expected, a storm cloud extinguished his starry eyes into empty voids.

“VIOLA? OH! VI, YES, I SO SO SO AM TERRIBLY SORRY. MY RECIPES AREN’T MEANT FOR HUMANS. I DID WARN HER MY TACOS CAN BE UNPREDICTABLE.”

“Interesting, Ocean. How very interesting... I wasn’t aware cookies involved cyberizing my colleagues.”

“Wait… so you don’t mind I poisoned her?”

Nurse Andrews sent him a flat look. “If every person who poisoned Dr Viola were held accountable, we wouldn’t have any nurses.”

Ocean let out a breath he must’ve been holding in awhile, his shoulders fell as he leaned fully against the glass.

“I’d like to be frank with you, Ocean. Did you know—”

“Aww, why can’t you be Frank with me?” Peaches whined. “I always get boring old Zeek.”

Ocean snorted. “PERHAPS IF YOU TOOK MORE INITIATIVE. YOUR ROOM

WAS ALWAYS MESSY AT HOME. FRANK ONLY COMES OUT WHEN YOU’RE PRESENTABLE.”

Nurse Andrews shot him a look.

Peaches held up his hands in mock surrender. “Not that I mind.” He waggled his brow.

Ocean kneaded his hands together before typing again. If he didn’t have the mask on, Andrew imagines he’d be clicking his teeth.

“DOCTOR, I DON’T KNOW WHAT I CAN SAY FOR YOU TO BELIEVE ME. I WOULD NEVER DO ANYTHING TO HURT VIOLA. WE DISCUSSED THE RISKS BEFOREHAND. SHE CONSENTED TO IT. THEN SHE GOT COLD FEET, WE WERE ALREADY SO FAR ALONG, TO STOP WOULD JEOPARDIZE HER HEALTH!”

“The doctors say she’ll never beath on her own again.” Nurse Andrew pinched his nose. He awaited already getting a head ache and he only got through a quarter of his patients. “Her goggles were missing when we found her, ocean. To take responsibility is the first step to change. We’ll put a pin in it today.” Nurse Andrews remained fixed on the clipboard. He continued writing, neither of them break the silence.

Ocean smile was a few degrees weaker. “You have to believe me.”

His eye lights shrank so small, the faint draft could extinguish them. “I can’t be without my brother again.” His phalanges easily fit through the vent holes, clawing at Nurse Andrews sleeves. He’s so much smaller than the other patients. A hair shorter than himself actually.

Ezekiel bites his lip. “I don’t have the key. I can’t—”

“But you could talk to her! Dr Shapiro knew about Viola’s situation. I wouldn’t operate otherwise. I—” Big tears poured like waterfalls down Ocean’s cheeks. “Please don’t look at me like that. I don’t care what you think of me but you have to believe me.”

Ezekiel leans closer to Ocean’s phallanges, allowing him to tug part of his sleeves through.

He kept fiddling with Ezekiel’s sleeves. Neither of them spoke. The ever hanging storm felt like it was on their door step. There wasn’t anything that he could do without an actual monster doctor or human trained in monster medicine.  After several false starts, Ocean lets go of Ezekiel’s sleeve. “I don’t know how long he’ll last—”

Something tugged at Ezekiel’s goggles. He reaches up to secure them but Ocean’s already got ahold of his other sleeve.

“Ocean, I can’t protect you if you do this. Listen to me.” The goggles rose of his cheeks, forcing him to keep his eyes on the display. Those cyan letters glaring back at him.

“I’m so sorry.” His words so soft.

Ezekiel’s gaze darts up to Ocean’s face. The mask gone.

Oceans sobs shift into sniffles and slowly devolve into giggles.

Ezekiel scrambles to tug his sleeves away. With a buttoned shirt, he couldn’t get it over if head unless Ocean let him go.“Dr Shapiro told me himself that she’d stop feeding you if you exhibited any “maladaptive” behaviors. She’s actively looking for a reason to kill you! I know we haven’t been eye to eye… please, give me back my goggles.”

Ocean wiped away a tear smiling with an elbow. “Zeek, I’ll be confiscating your goggles. Once you learn to behave, you may have them back. Do you understand?”

The words slip from his mouth before he could even think them. “Yes, I do.”

“For now we have work to do, my prince.”

He finally let go. Every bone in Ezekiel’s body screamed to run. Get the fuck away from him. He knew he shouldn’t have reached out.

No matter how hard Ezekiel tried, he resist speaking to Ocean. He needed to hear more. Hear more of that wonderful voice that reminded him of the most gorgeous bells and harp. “Is there any way I can help? I could open the doors? Would that satisfy you?”

Ocean hummed, “it’s a start.” In seconds, Ezekiel unlocked the door separating the tank from the upper platform. He raced back up. Anything to hear Ocean’s call.

“Should I—”

Just as Ezekiel reached the platform, Ocean lunged out. His sharp boney phalanges digging deep into Ezekiel’s sides, drawing a gasp. Everything went fuzzy from there on out.

There were sounds. Doors unlocking. Familiar voices murmured. An alarm blared.

Soon that too got drowned in the darkness.

[codenamehazard]

.:Feast by the Fire:.

Chapter 23: Feast by the Fire

Hey guys!

Some cozy feels just in time for the holiday season! This one of the scenes I've been wanting to do ever since No Man's Land started to evolve from a silly little one shot to what it is today. I have to thank @rogueshadeaux for putting up with my ramblings as well as giving me the push to actually write the whole fic in general! Without further delay, let's jump in!

---------

Crimson light bathes the land as the sun begins to set, I start to make my rounds around the HEMTT. I had volunteered to take the first watch while the others set up camp, mainly to be alone with my thoughts and boy howdy do I have a lot to think about.

I look around at where we had stopped, some sort of abandoned ranch or farm. A place where we could scavenge for scrap should we need to, quiet enough to set up shop for the night. I can see signs that people before us have thought the same, remnants of human activity littered the area in the form of burnt firewood, disrupted stones and used cans. I take one of the metal tins and toss it up in the air before shooting it with a mild bolt and walking on.

As I milled about, I started to think back about the “Night Warped” the Misfits mentioned before we had set off for Tri-Point. Bigger, nastier monsters that could only be out at night due to the UV from the sun frying them. I have asked for clarification before, but couldn’t get a straight answer from them as, apparently, there were just so many different types that somebody could run into if they wandered off into the night.

I think back to the monsters I had dealt with in the past. The Swamp Creatures and the Icemen that terrorized New Marias, the giant cockroach that Bertrand turned into, the metal monstrosities that the Dust Men created… Then there was that four armed freak, David Warner.

Now there were the recent additions to the rogues gallery of things I had to deal with, the literal zombies that were trying to turn Droptown into an all-you-can-eat Conduit buffet… And the less said about the Summoner, the better. I shudder at the still fresh memory of that ugly fuck, another thing to haunt my nightmares.

I remember the fight with that tumor-turned-skinned gorilla thing, how tough it was and how it healed when I used my Beast abilities. How the only thing that stopped it was the Amp shoved in its back and 100 million volts of fuck you channeled right into the spinal cord.

How much worse can these things get??

The smell of fire catches my attention before I could get too deep down that rabbit hole of potential nightmare fuel. I turn my head to see Kestrel and Dove setting up a fire and Pangolin bringing over a big-ass witch’s cauldron looking pot. A voice draws my eyes as I see Mako with a checklist and her calling out to the other three. Something about checking stashes. As the three head back to their trailers, I head over to Mako to ask what all the shouting’s about.

As I head over, I watch the Shark pull out various ingredients from a communal food storage. Hm, must be getting ready for dinner. My stomach growls at the thought. Damn, forgot to eat lunch earlier today.

“Whatcha got going on here?” I ask as I look over the ingredients, looks like some beef, potatoes and some veg, looking promising so far. Mako grins and puts her clipboard down.

“You remember the stew I brought over for lunch back in Droptown?” She asks in kind. Of course I remember, it was amazing! Especially after spending so long eating mainly shitty protein bars and whatever else I can get my hands on. I smile and nod as the memory of the first taste of actual, proper food flits through my head. Mako’s smile widens as I reminisce. “That’s what's on the menu for tonight, it’s called Hodge-Podge stew.”

“Hodge-Podge stew?” I repeat, raising an eyebrow. She nods in confirmation.

“Yeah, it’s pretty much a staple for us and any other nomadic Wildlander. Simple, easy to make, filling, hearty, everything you’d need in a meal.” I feel excitement well up inside as I continue to remember that thermos lunch. If it was that good as leftovers, having it hot from the pot would be even better.

“Just… Don’t expect it to taste the same as the leftovers.” Mako points out as she starts prepping the veg. “It’s never the same way twice.” I chuckle and smile.

“Don’t need it to taste the same way, just needs to be good.” I state before stretching. I give a wave before leaving her to do her prep work after saying a quick good-bye. My stomach growls again as I start to smell the ingredients. I hope there'll be enough for seconds.

I watch as the Misfits go through their trailers to find their personal stashes and bring them up to a card table where the ingredients were laid out. Mainly some spices like garlic and cilantro and other things. Now I see where the Hodge-Podge comes from, everyone contributes something to the meal. Part of me wished that I had thought of something like that for when I led way back when, but then I remember how much of a pain in the ass Kuo would have been about it and how it wouldn’t have worked with the amount of people under my leadership.

The thoughts of the comradery makes me frown a bit, not because I had something against it or I disapproved of it, but because I really didn’t have anything to contribute myself. Food-wise anyways.

I think to myself, despite the spats I’ve had with Kes and Pangolin, these guys have been decent hosts. Never asked any favors of me despite knowing I’m the Beast, hell, the Beast topic doesn’t really get brought up at all outside of said spats. Maybe every now and again in a joking way, but never seriously. They treated me like I’m just another person, no different than them, for better and worse.

I know they wouldn’t expect me to do anything, as I am their guest, but the thought just didn’t sit right. I look over and see everyone falling into their roles and an idea pops in my head. While I can’t contribute with food, maybe I can contribute by lending a hand? I see Pangolin lugging logs out from a storage compartment before pulling out a clipboard and looking over it. I’m guessing I’m gonna have to play nice for a little bit and talk to him about if there’s anything that needs to be done.

I stretch before walking over to the Brick Spartan, Mako turns her head to watch, wondering what I am planning.

“Hey Pangolin!” I call out as I walk over to him, I see him stiffen a bit, but once he sees the neutral expression on my face, he relaxes some. Seems like my little chat with him made an impact. Good. “Is there anything that needs done?” I can see Mako’s eyes widen in surprise out of the corner of my eye, but I focus on the shit brickhouse as he looks over a list and at what’s around.

“I’ve pulled out some logs for the fire.” He starts as he gestures over to the neatly stacked pile of wood. I look over at it and hum. “If you’re looking for something to do while dinner’s cooking, I’ll give you an axe and you can get to chopping.” I smile and nod, I can feel a certain itch making itself known at the thought of starting fires, but when I look over to the cooking fire, I see that Kes had it handled. Oh well, prepping the fuel will sate the itch for the time being. I hold my hand out and Pangolin gives me a chopping axe. “What, not gonna give me the monster you have?” I joke a little, he and I may not be on the best of footing at the moment, especially with how he treated the Gunsmith, but right now is a peace time, no point in stirring up shit when it’s not needed. Besides, me and Zeke still had our fair share of laughs even when things were shaky and I wasn’t ready to forgive. Pangolin chuckled nervously before rubbing the back of his head.

“Sorry Cole, just as the Amp is your baby, Rifter is mine.” I give a chuckle and a grin, but I can feel a bite of anger in my chest. If you already had a weapon you loved dear then what in the name of God was with your behavior towards Kes, Pangolin?? I note it as something to question him about later, but for now I take the axe and I head over to the wood pile to get started.

Putting my backpack to the side for the time being, I unhook the straps of my vest and use them to tie the vest back to open it more before taking the bandana from around my neck and tying it on my forehead. Do I look like some hick? Maybe, but I don’t care. I need more airflow to keep me from overheating and the bandana will keep the sweat from getting into my eyes.

I give the axe a good feel and a couple of practice swings. They take good care of their gear, I have to admit, the blade actually gave me a slight nick on my finger when I felt it. Grabbing a log, I stand it up before centering and taking a swing. Chopping the hunk of wood in half and then into quarters before I pile them up nearby, ready to be used to feed the hungry fire. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mako walking over with an amused smile.

“I have to ask, who are you and what have you done with Cole?” She questions with a grin. I chuckle and roll my eyes.

“He didn’t go anywhere, Mako. I’m still me.” I hum between the swings. Even though the tool is light compared to the Amp and the movements are familiar, my muscles still give a slight satisfying burn from the repetition. In a way, I’ve missed this.

“I don’t believe you.” She teases as she puts her hands on her hips. “The Cole MacGrath I know wanted nothing to do with any of this. Any time the word “chore” is brought up, he’d walk away, put up a fight or would have complained the entire time!” I can’t help but to chuckle, it is true that I did throw up a stink whenever chores and labor were involved, but granted, I had a reason.

“That’s because “the Cole MacGrath” you knew was either “volentold” to help, pestered until he said “yes” or was outright demanded to help, even when he was in the middle of something else... Like trying to keep a bunch of mad-dogs from tearing each-other to shreds.” I point out, still keeping the playful tone. “Back in the Conduit Army, I really wasn’t given any choice in the matter. Here? I chose to help out. Nobody asked me to help, it wasn’t expected or demanded of me, I got to make the call of my own free will.” Mako nods in understanding.

“Besides, the pyro-itch was getting to me and I figured this would hold me over.” I can hear Mako snicker at my comment before I see a mischievous grin split across her face, oh god, not again. “Penny for your thoughts, Mako?”

“You’re just wanting to spend more time with the resident hothead, aren’t you?” Fucking called it. I roll my eyes before looking at her.

“And what, pray-tell, gave you that idea?” I scoff as I cross my arms.

“Hmmm… Let’s see. You’re working on a task that is connected to fire-tending, which is Kes’ responsibility… You’ve opened up your vest more so that the goods are on display… You’re standing in a spot where she can see you easily and watch you show off how strong you are…” My god, if I could roll my eyes any harder, they would have fallen out of my head. She’s losing her mind over this!

“Mako, how many of those sappy, fluffy, cutesy-wootsy romance animes have you watched since you’ve been on your own? Because the’ve rotted your brain, you’re looking for something that isn’t there!” I guffaw loudly, looking at her like she’s nuts as she just grinning away like the cat that ate the canary.

“Uh huh…. Suuuuuuure.” She hums while still grinning that shark-tooth smirk. “Don’t think I didn’t catch those wandering eyes.”

“What the hell is that supposed t-” Mako runs off giggling like a gremlin before I can even finish my sentence. What has gotten into her?! I let out an irritated sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose before going back to chopping wood.

Time seemed to fly as I got lost in the rhythm of my task. It’s only when I hear Pangolin bellow out to everyone that dinner’s ready and it’s time to eat. I stop what I was doing and use my bandana to wipe the sweat off of my brow and hands before wringing it out. As I walk over, I watch how everyone falls into place like a well oiled machine. Pangolin handing out the bowls and silverware that looked like they were fashioned from scrap and rebar, Mako at the giant iron pot, ladle in hand.

The two remaining Misfits line up and I take a cue from them and line up behind them. Moving with them and doing as they do. Taking the bowl given, heading to the pot so Mako can fill the vessel with the delicious smelling stew and then sitting down around the fire to relax and tuck in.

As Pangolin and Mako get their portion, I take a deep breath of the steam coming from the food and a big smile grows across my face as I take in the scents of the meal. Mmmmm…. Savory, meaty, hearty… Maybe spicy? Who cares, it smells tasty and I want to eat.

I take the rebar made spoon and get some of the broth from the bowl and blow on it before taking a sip. My eyes widen as I feel the tell-tale immediate burn of peppers and spice. The capsaicin stringing my tongue and throat and flooding my nerves with a sweetly tortuous heat that added thrill to the hearty and meaty flavors. Reminding me of some of my favorite dishes from New Marias. The more it burns, the bigger my smile grows before feasting, eating the meal like a man starved.

As I chow down, I started to notice a cacophony of pained gasps and pants. I look up and see the two brothers with red faces and angry tongues. Dove’s damn-near squawking while fanning his tongue with his hands and Pangolin was trying to keep a straight face, but the reddening of his cheeks and the tears pricking the corner of her eyes gave him away. I look over and see Kestrel happily eating while the corner of her lips twitch in struggle and Mako was trying not to laugh at the two dying brothers.

“What’s up with them?” I ask as I point over at the two while looking at Mako and Kestrel. Dove snaps his head to look at me in shock, staring at me like I’ve grown three heads.

“HOW IN THE NAME OF GOD IS YOUR TONGUE NOT ON FIRE, MACGRATH?!?” The pigeon squawks out and I have to cover my mouth to keep myself from spitting my stew in laughter.

“Quit your belly-aching, Dove!” I hear Kes snark out, her lips still fighting not to smirk. “It’s not even that hot! Barely a nose-runner!”

“Easy for you to say!” Dove croaks before glugging down a canteen of water. “You’re probably the one who spiked the stew again with your homemade god-damn hot hot-sauce!!” I struggle not to laugh as Kes puts on an overdramatic show of looking hurt and offended.

“Oh Dove, your cruel cruel words wound my heart!” The birdie teases in a faux hurt voice while doing the dramatic wrist to forehead arm and hand to heart thing. “Accusing me of such a thing! I would never ever eeeeeeeeeever do that!” I snort and sputter, trying not to absolutely lose it as Dove has a conniption.

“This is like, what, the fourth time this month you pulled this shit with the hot sauce, Morrison!” Dove yelps out as he continues to try to cool his tongue in vain. I can’t help myself anymore and burst out laughing. Holy hell, she has done this multiple times and they practically let her get away with it?!

“Well whose fault is that?” I chime in between laughs. “You’re the ones leaving her with the stock-pot unsupervised, so y’all got no-one to blame but yourselves for that.”

“How are you not dying from this?!” I hear Pangolin bellow out as he stares at me in disbelief. I laugh more as I try not to choke on soup. Kes looks at the brothers with a smug grin on her face.

“He likes it, three to two, you guys are outnumbered!” Kes points out with her spoon before taking another bite. It isn’t long before Dove and Kes get into a bit of a heated debate about hot-sauce tampering and if it’s sabotage so she and Mako could have the whole pot or not. I continue to laugh at the bickering birds as Pangolin continues to stare at me like I’m some sort of anomaly and Mako falls into a gigglefit.

In my fit, I thought I could hear the sound of scraping stone. I stop to look around, but saw nothing of note. I shrug and go back to watching the squabble. Probably just needing some rest.

After all, since when can a boulder move?

[chesires1hell]

So I had a dream....

So we know that SKZ lore is based of parallel worlds, but what if the different SKZs we see here a different SKZ.

Some terms to be used

-Alternative universes: A new alternate universe is made every time there is a choice (Like if I ask you to pick a ball. An alternate universe is made for the result of each choice)

So we know Han was the first one to travel to an alternate universe(In Hellevator, he didn't want to leave his childhood and so used the Hellevator to travel to a alternate universe where SKZ doesn't grow up.

What he didn't know was he could just teleport that easily. Only Felix could do that (We can see different cases where he teleports into different universes seamlessly) In his attempt to escape his universe, he caused universes to clash into each other(When universes clash, the SKZ from a universe fall into another and either fight or work together). That's why in most MVs, there are two different SKZs, fighting each other.

Although there are many SKZs, The 4 I'll be taking about are:

-Fugitives

-School boy

-Hero

-Villain

Fugitives are the ones who escaped District 9 and on their way to find their home

School boys are the film makers working in their clubhouse trying to stay together(There is more to this but it's not important right now)

Heros are the SKZ that are trying to saves the collapsing Universes from monster And/or villain SKZ

Villains are the SKZ that want revenge for the politician (Y'know that guy in Miroh and Side Effects). They fall into universes and overthrow their leader (Or rather the universe's 'District 9') This came be seen in god's menu, thunderous, back door, etc. (Random people were walking around plainly, lacking individuality. Just like SKZ before they escaped. This is what they mean by 'Straykids world domination' that's their plan.

But there are a few times Hero SKZ and Villain SKZ worked together , like in circus.

But in ODDinary, the SKZ of that universe were missing except Felix who went to look for them. They were replaced by Villain SKZ.

In Maxident, The Heros are fighting against Pipi(love monster) who was working with evil SKZ, to make Maxident SKZ lovey-dovey zombies that will stop Hero SKZ on their Behalf.

But in 5-star, There are some parallels between Maxident, so I think 5-star is what there were before Pipi. (So says aa stay theorologist on YouTube)

Note: This is my own theory amongst many others in the fucked up SKZ universe and it wasn't meant to attack anyone's claims but to express mine. If you would like to use my Theory, give me credit

[flowergirlmiwa]

my personal relationship with the pokemon stadium series and the leadup to my pokemon stadium japan blogging

my personal relationship with the pokemon stadium series

Pokemon Stadium was the first game i remember owning for Nintendo 64, the first home console i properly owned as the Sega Genesis was my dad's. i played it aaallll the time back then, but i didn't make that much progress into the cups, just one or two of the easier ones and maybe up to lt surge but that was all i could muster. my dad still jokes about it to this day. "what's the matter, trainer?" i literally left the game on for days at his house

like i alluded to in my previous post, while i did have a transfer pak and pokemon games, the transfer pak was prone to failing when the controller it's inserted into is moved and i move all the time so i was fucked as i only owned one controller. i actually only owned the one n64 controller (blue) until around 2012 when i bought a shitty third party one just to make multiplayer even POSSIBLE. before then i reached multiple moments where i regretted the lack of additional n64 controllers. with my modern wisdom, a transfer pak controller is simply left to the side to sit and look pretty after getting it set up so the game will recognize it.

as i also alluded to, in late 2002 i forgot a game case including my game boy color and almost all of my games (sparing solely Pokemon Trading Card Game, which, based, but,) on a bus during my first weeks living in Mexico. needless to say this blew as i had only recently managed to procure pokemon silver and thus complete my collection of all pokemon games on the game boy color (even the spinoffs). losing my collection also included such games as super mario bros deluxe and game and watch gallery 2 so yeah it fucking sucked it was a huge shame.

after this i didn't get another pokemon gen 1 or 2 cartridge until around 2009. adding to this, despite renting it multiple times and always very much desiring it, i never actually got a copy of Pokemon Stadium 2 until around 2019. this left pokemon stadium in sort of a weird position for me. rentals only.

truth be told it wasn't the entire reason but pokemon stadium was a pretty big motivator in me collecting those pokemon cartridges back and taking me on the journey i went on where i can say i 100% completed both and now knock on the door of the japanese entries. but it was a long dark lonely road until then. basically a decade where every now and then id pick it up again. same old menus. same old pokemon stadium. like this game was baked into my dna at this point. there was one change, however, an inciting incident. 2017. when i discovered that speedrunner werster had basically compiled optimal rental teams during his runs and watched the points where he struggled, it gave me the motivation to pick the game back up again.

basically the rest went like this -i eventually finished R1 of stadium using werster's teams -i bought a cartridge of Pokemon Yellow to help me through the rest -with the power of using my own team through Yellow, complete R2 of Stadium -bought Stadium 2 -complete most of R1 and maybe a little R2 in Stadium 2 using Yellow -acquire Pokemon Gold cartridge -complete a bunch of R2 using Yellow & Gold's combined efforts (i think i also got Blue before Gold but honestly i don't really remember lol) -only Challenge Cup is left in R2 and i put off doing it -learn how to solder and ensure all my game boy cartridges will have good batteries, encouraging me to buy more cartridges, like for Silver and Crystal -i get 151 in Yellow partly thanks to abusing Trainer-Fly glitch -i buy an N64 Everdrive -with the power of this everdrive i can play the japanese stadium games without shelling out for the real game and doing cartridge magic on them to region-break them -i buy a cartridge for pocket monsters red version and begin formulating ideas for how to play pokemon stadium japan -i build the team and the moves that were used many months later when i got around to actually implementing it, only really changed since i somehow didn't have the TM for explosion or ice beam -eventually i decide to also get a cartridge for pocket monsters silver after realizing i would need some method to trade in order to use an alakazam like i had planned -in the meantime i finally get around to finishing R2 of Pokemon Stadium 2 by getting some good runs on Challenge Cup -after several months of getting around to progressing my japanese!silver cartridge to the point where it can trade with japanese!red, i start assembling the puzzle pieces of capturing team members -reliving the teambuilding from the yellow days, i abuse the missingno glitch in red to get 99 of every good item to streamline the process -i completed up to ultra ball on the LV1-30 on pokemon stadium japan -i begin blogging….!

NEXT: THE REAL TEAM INTRODUCTIONS FOR REAL THIS TIME!!!! tauros exeggutor lapras starmie alakazam pikachu

[rubyvhs]

silence in the city (two)

part i

pairing; sam x reader/ dean x reader summary: you cook for the two boys and start to feel like you’re fitting in again. tags; mention of rape, degradation, suggestive content, soulles sam.

"Sam," I moan against his hair, sliding my fingers through it. He's kissing my neck, then higher and higher, behind my ear, my face, my lips. He's getting so close to me. And I can't think straight when he's this close because all I can remember is him pounding into me that night—

"Hey," his voice forces me back to where we are. His room. The bunker. His bed. His his his. How do I even fit here, with the Winchesters? “Hey, what happened? Where'd you go?"

"I— I don't know, what happened?" I echo the question, mostly asking what I did when he's decided on shaking me softly out of it.

"You were with me. I was kissing you but you were shaking and... fuck, are you okay? You really scared me. I think you were trying to tell me to stop but you just—" He's stepped back now, sitting on the bed a few inches away, he's still towering over me but it doesn't bother me as much as it did when he was kissing me, he's just really scared.

"I'm sorry," I mumble, trying to get up and off the bed. "Sorry, just thought about something and I couldn't stop."

"Yeah? Was it something bad?" He lets me leave his bed but stares at me in a way that makes me think he won't be so generous about me leaving the room.

"No, just something. I think I'll— yeah, you guys are probably hungry, I'll go make dinner." I don't move until I see him nod, but while walking out I don't miss the way his whole body deflates and his hands scrubbing down his face. 

My whole chest hurts and I want to cry again for the tenth time today but I just can’t help it. I’ve been trying so hard with Sam and I know he sees that, I know he hears me cry at night when we’ve went a little too far or how I start shaking whenever we’re alone and he runs a hand up my body. I’m not scared of him, I know he wouldn’t do anything like that, I trust him, but just— i don’t want to, just can’t do anything with him when all I imagine is that fucking monster pounding into me, calling me a slut, telling me to take it.

“Hey, angel,” I perk up at the sound of nickname coming from Dean. I’m still looking through the cabinets for any ideas for dinner so I entertain him, nodding. “What’re you cookin’?” That Texan accent.

“Oh, just pasta probably. I’m not sure, any requests?” He drums his fingers onto the table, seemingly in deep thought, “Not pie, Dean.”

“Dick,” He rolls his eyes but I let out a huff at his playfulness, my tone similar to his.

“Slut,” I retort back quickly, waiting for him to actually give me suggestions. Though it looks like pie was his only running thought (maybe something with bacon too) and I decide to pick out a bunch of random spices, hopefully the idea will come to me as I make it. 

I am glad Dean is with me in the kitchen though. For all the shitty me and Sam have been going through this past month, me and Dean have gotten closer, especially since his heartfelt declaration in this very room. 

Albeit, I haven’t seen soft Dean since then, but I got enough to last me a lifetime. “What about something from your home? I can try to help too.”

My eyes widen. “You want a proper Egyptian meal? Are you serious?” It makes me giddy more than I’d like to admit cause fuck that’s kinda the most adorable thing anyone has ever asked of me. He wants me to make him something from my culture? That’s… 

“Yeah, ‘course. Don’t know why we never had Egyptian before, but let’s do it. What’s on the menu today?” He says casually but my cheek’s all pink and my mouth hurts from grinning and I bet I’m even beaming a bit but it’s all expertly concealed as I give him my back to look through the fridge.

“Yeah, we can do that. How about… do you guys have cabbage?”

“I’m not sure. Sam probably—” 

“There, found it!” I answer myself quickly, looking at the bottom drawer. I take it out, figuring it’s big enough for maybe all three of us, could even have some left overs. “I can get started on the mahshy and leave it to cook while I go get some stuff from the market, how’s that? Y’all don’t mind a few hours before dinner, right?”

“The what?”

“Mahshy, honestly our most popular dish. Or maybe waraa enab, either way, you might like them. I don’t know if you’ve ever tasted anything like them but… I can make pizza too, incase it isn’t something you end up enjoying.”

“I’m sure it’ll be good, sweetheart.” I nod then run to the drawers, as if he’ll change his mind, to start getting supplies. 

Two hours later I’ve finished making the rice and stuffing it into the cabbage then rolling them, letting Dean attempt a couple, and put it all on the stove to cook. “Okay, I wanna try and make pigeons, too, for protein.”

“I’m sorry— you what?” 

I keep scrubbing my hands clean at the sink, biting my lip between my bottom teeth. I often forget what’s common and what’s uncommon here in America, mostly ‘cause I’ve only been here a decade, but in my home two. 

“Yeah, I mean, you don’t have to, I don’t know— what kind of bird do you eat? It’s just usually made with pigeon or hamam in Arabic and I guess I figured if we’re… you know, but we can do…” The words are blurting out my mouth and I see Dean holding in a laugh. I deflate a little and he chuckles, walking towards me. 

“Sweetheart, whatever you make will be perfect. I didn’t know you were stressing about this. You know we love your cooking.”

“Yeah but this is different, you’ve never had this before and obviously I won’t be offended if you guys don’t like it— that goes without saying,” and I check Dean’s expression through my eyelashes so there’s hopefully no doubt about that, “but I wanna make it good for you.” I’m assuming the you is heavy on him because he takes a deeper breath but then shakes his head, moving his hand from his side to my back.

“Let’s go to the market. Wanna get Sammy?” And then, a beat, “Or you guys could go and I can watch the food here?”

“No, no. He’s probably busy, we should go. Surprise him ‘n all.” Dean looks down at me, he looks like he’s going to reject the idea, plus I’m about to apologize for suggesting it, but then I feel him nudging me forward with a smile and we walk to the garage.

We’re going to the market for some food.

Me and Dean.

K.

It’s uncharacteristic of Sam to both be dry and not grammatically accurate while texting and it makes my chest constrict before I shut the phone off and stare out the window. I already know tears are running down my cheek but I don’t want to acknowledge it at the moment. God, I have so so much to just cry about, it’s all since I’ve stayed with these Winchesters. I love them, and I love Cas, and Charlie, and Jody obviously but that doesn’t take away from all the pain they’ve caused me.

Sam (soulless) fucked me while I kept screaming at him to stop. Practically raped me. Dean didn’t speak to me for years, not even after what Sam did, though I’m not sure how much of that he actually knows. Hunters and supernatural creatures alike have tried to smite me so many times to get the Winchesters that I’ve lost count. I’ve been used as bait too many times and almost died even more. I’ve watched these two men die over and over and over again. 

It never ends, even when Sam got his soul back; leviathans got thrown back to purgatory; Dean came back from purgatory; Sam went through the trials; Angels falling then Dean got rid of the mark; then the darkness. It just doesn’t end, and I have been with Sam through it all. Saw him grieve Dean so much I started to miss his brother that I’ve talked to a handful of times. I let him go through the trials after begging him not to, only for him to give them up when Dean asked him to. 

I don’t think the boys understand what that night did to me. We were all there, staring at the king of hell gain some ounce of humanity and Sam losing all of his while I sobbed into my knees. My voice had grown hoarse with my screams at Sam at that point. Then Dean came in. We all stilled. We all knew what would come next. We all held our breath. Then;

“Don’t you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in-front of you. It has never been like that. I need you to see that. I’m begging you.”

“I— how do I stop?”

What I had tried to do for months Dean had done with three words, and of course, yeah, they’re blood and all that, but the look in their eyes? I wasn’t sure whether he loved Dean as innocently as he claims he does.

“Angel?” My head whips, giving me a damn migraine, and I face the older brother. 

Dean had never done anything particularly nasty to me. I only started living in the bunker this year so we’ve been housemates for a little over three months, and we started speaking two months into it so I’ve decided he’s heaps better than his brother at the moment. 

“Angel, you with me?” I nod then remember he’s looking at the road, though I’m sure he can see me.

“Yeah, Dee, with you?”

“Dee?”

“Nickname. Like ‘angel’.” He seems to accept it. I don’t though, so I ask the question that’s been on the top of my tongue since we’d spoken a month ago, “Why’d you call me that, by the way? Why ‘angel’?”

“‘Cause.” I hope he doesn’t think I’m letting him keep the answer that brief. Thankfully he keeps going, “You saved Sam. Saved him from himself too many times. Kinda like his guardian angel.”

Damn it. Even the one thing I thought was mine, totally and utterly related to me, had something to do with my boyfriend. 

“— and, sweetheart, you saved me too.” That catches my attention and just as I’m about to ask, he parks in front of the mall’s double doors. 

“Get inside, I’ll park Baby and come in.” I zip my mouth, though it takes everything in me, 

I get out of the car and into the market quietly. That’s how me and Dean finish our shopping. That’s also how we get into the house (though not without our little squabble of “I’m a hunter Dean, I can handle a few bags!”  “You’re also cooking enough as is, stop being stubborn and get inside. I’ll bring the bags.”)

I told him he should go check on his brother while I make the pigeon, that takes much less time than the mahshy. Dean doesn’t come back, but an hour later everything is ready to serve so I text him to get Sammy and come down. 

I may or may have not brought a frozen pizza at the market and put it in the oven incase they don’t enjoy the meal— it just makes me feel more at ease. I’ve never been so nervous in my life, not even when me and Sam had sex the first time. Or when I said yes to our first date. Or when I came to America alone.

But here I am, panicking out of my boots because Sam and Dean Winchester are gonna taste Egyptian food by my hand for the first time. “Angel, you’re shaking,” I look at Sam first and he’s smiling at me but it’s clear he’s not happy. I’m not sure about which part.

It’s already close to ten and I left our room in a hurry at six so I can only think of the contemplation he’d done. About me and us and our sex life and everything.

“Want any help, honey?” I let a smile spread over my face as I nod once at Sam. Yeah, okay, maybe I’m overreacting. 

He goes to grab a plate but I shake my head and point to the ten inch tray we have for when we’re serving guests. He furrows his eye brows but does at told and I tell him to put it on the counter where we’re eating. He does so and I grab the pot of mahshy then flip it upside down on the tray. Both men seem to jump at my sudden movement but quickly relax when they see it was not an accident and that I have it under control. 

When I flip the pot, we all stare at the excessive smoke from the dinner and I smile. I almost want to snap a picture and send it to my mother. She’d be proud. If we still talked. 

I shake the thought out of my head and we decorate with some parsley then salt. Me and Sam grab more plates and I serve the fried pigeon and traditional salad. 

“Woah, Angel. This looks fuckin’ incredible.”

“Yeah, what is that?” Sam agrees and I serve some on both their plates (though my mother would scold me for that one ‘we always eat from the pot’ but I don’t think they’re ready for that much culture yet). 

“Oh, uh,” I see both men’s focus on me and the food they’re trying, “Mahshy is just cabbage with rice, I guess. Broth too, but I used mostly water since y’all don’t have that here— but it should be just as good.” 

Dean’s the first to stop blowing on his food like a fucking girl and actually put the finger into his mouth. He chews and chews and then—

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” My heart stops, “This is… oh my god.” He starts shoving more onto his fork from the top of the steaming pile so it’s the least hot.

“Really? You’re not fucking with me?” I ask, like a hopeful child on Christmas Eve, I bet.

“Angel, this is amazing.” I smile so wide I’m sure it could stretch to next Monday. I face Sam and he’s… he’s eating. 

Sam is actually fucking eating my food. Not that he’s ever not eaten my food, but he asks about the ingredients first, frickin’ diet he’s on or something and tries it first, but no trying today. Sam goes right in. 

“You said—” Dean says through a mouthful and it pulls a surprised laugh out of me so he swallow before resuming, “Said something ‘bout protein?”

“Yeah, yeah,” I start to give each of them a bird from the four on the table. It’s stuffed with a dried wheat mix I made. Honestly, I had to make literally everything on the table. America doesn’t provide the right spice mix, or sauce, or even wheat mix, for me have any help. And I wanted it to be perfect. 

“What is that?” Sam asks a second after he’s cut his one open. 

“Dried wheat mix.” And then I remember the fucking diet he was just telling me about— “Sammy, ‘m so sorry, I forgot about—”

It’s evident he doesn’t mind because he tried it with no hesitation then lets out soemthing between a growl and moan that I thought was reserved for the bedroom but was apperantly not off limits to my cooking too.

“This is absolutely fuckin’ delicious, sweetheart. How’d you… wow.” And I don’t think he’s actually asking anything, he’s just praising me. 

I feel a blush on my cheek from both the extremely positive feedback and small praises both men have thrown my way. I quickly get up to get them beers from the fridge but both men groan so i quickly look back to them.

“Where’re you goin’? You didn’t even try the food.”

“Getting your beers.” I smile and run over to get them then back. 

“What about you?” It’s no secret I don’t drink so I shrug and pour some of Sam’s pineapple juice/smoothie mix thing into my cup. 

I touch around some of my food, but I’m not entirely sure I made enough for both men after seeing them eat like they are so I want to keep as much as I can for both of them. I don’t think they notice because they go in for seconds— then Dean for thirds and the pot is almost empty when they both decide they’re full and there’s only one pigeon left, the one on my plate.

“Y’all like?” They both look offended and I laugh, “I’m so glad you actually enjoyed it. Can’t believe you guys enjoy Egyptian food like this.”

“Yeah? You made it so damn well, too.” I can hear the satisfied tone my boyfriend gave and I smile. “Shit! We should’ve asked what you do before you eat. Tradition in Egypt and all that. We could’ve really made you feel at home.” 

Dean doesn’t seem to care what Sam’s saying though because he’s leaning back in his chair, phone in one hand as he lazily drinks his beer. 

“Actually, it’s after we eat.” Sam smiles, urging me to go on, “but it’s religious, not traditional. So I guess it is traditional but just not—”

“What is it?”

“Translated in English it’s; Praise be to the Lord for blessing us with the food we’re eating and for our drinking with no power or will required from us… I think. It’s usually in Arabic.”

Sam nudged Dean’s foot under the table and I let out a giggle as they both repeat why I said and then I kiss Sam’s cheek quickly before going to get cleaned up so I can come clean after. I am still a bit hungry, though, so I might go for some pizza tonight.

+

“Hey, baby.” I smile and Sam dips his side of the bed as he climbs in I move closer to him, nudging my head into his chest.

“Hi, Sammy.” He strokes my hair, long fingers making me moan as I put my phone down and melt into him. “Missed you.”

“‘Missed you so much more.” He kisses my head and i drift to sleep in his arm. Feeling safe for the first time in a very very long time.

it’s so fluffy and idk why but I’m Egyptian so kinda really wanted to write this but also is she liking Sam or dean???🤭 we never know

we might next chapter tho.