#so what i had built has been burnt

[lesenbyan]

you know, I might be Stepping In It, but I really hate people's tendency to "you're lucky" when finding out someone's naturally skinny really piss me off.

I'm not saying there's not privilege to being skinny, there absolutely is in this fatphobic world. But as someone who has spent literally over half my life wishing I could gain any fucking weight ever it makes me so fucking mad. I've tried working out, I've had physically demanding jobs, I've tried, back when i could afford it, eating as much as I could handle. I have literal dysphoria about being skinny.

and then when I Go Off at a coworker for being the second person in a week to tell me I'm lucky- while wearing braces digging into my joints bc I am physically too small to wear them right but they don't get smaller- I'm told "oh but you have to realize we never considered the other side" sure! but I'm still allowed to get pissed! you would be too!

[azullumi]

trying different types of kissing with scaramouche?💔 like forehead, neck kisses, hand or anything at all....

“say yes to heaven” ; wanderer/scaramouche

summary — ultimately, he really does just want to be loved, behind the many layers of him to hide all that yearning and longing. but how can he say it when love, for him, was a synonym to forgiveness; alternatively, different kisses with him, with each one signifying a progressing relationship.

pairing — scaramouche/wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; could imagine this with either but i wrote this with wanderer in mind

tags — established relationship, fluff, a little bit of angst, not proofread, 1.1k ; ficlet

note — i needed an excuse to write a fic that is just all about kissing him and also comforting him (but still, i hope u like this nonnieee!!)

i. hand

You hold his hand and press small kisses on his knuckles, a little bit ticklish it was for him but he doesn’t retract. The feeling of it makes something in his chest ache with an unfamiliar sensation, and he knows it’s not his heart because he never had any.

You kiss the back of his hand, an intimate gesture, like devotion, like he was something—or someone—that should be adored.

“I am no god.” He was no deity to be worshiped so why are you so gentle to him? He wasn’t made of glass nor is he fragile; he was born from ashes of a burned home, he was carved out of war and winter storms and everything that you could ever pray against, he was a symphony composed of nothing but bad luck and conflicting melodies—he was not the kind people would choose to be around, much less adore.

And as if you bear a part of him in your mind, you understood what he was trying to say, could hear the questions that tormented him, could see the conflicted look on him as he looks at you with a gaze that seems to scrutinize your being when only he is looking for an answer. He tries to look for a crack, a gap in your expression, so that he can look through it and see what you’re really thinking.

“You don’t have to be one to be loved.” You press one last kiss on his hand just as you finished speaking, looking up to him. Indigo blue orbs met yours in a gentle gaze, eyes filled with affection only for the other to drown in. If he could put all that he was feeling, all that he was asking and seeking an answer to, into a simple word, it all condenses to: why?

“Do you still have doubts?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. He opens his mouth only to close it again, looking for the words that he should say but chose to be silent instead. And you smile—not a beaming grin nor a subtle paint on your features, but something gentle and comforting as if you’re assuring him: it’s okay, I understand you. I know you.

“You’re not unloveable.”

Loving him wasn’t the hardest thing to do, it came to you naturally as if breathing but the man thinks otherwise. A burnt child who loves the fire will only hear the fact that he is loveable, people just choose not to.

“How do you know that?” You know him well enough to hear the way his voice trembles at the effort to allow himself to be vulnerable. Long was the fall of the tall and formidable walls that he built around him.

“You’re not unloveable.” You repeat, taking hold of his fingers to kiss his hand once more. “Am I not enough proof of that?”

ii. forehead and cheeks

You cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead, an unspoken language of tenderness in which he took a long time to understand. When love and affection has finally been given to him after decades of yearning, he’s unsure of how to hold it in his hands—does he gently hold it with both? Every bit overwhelms him to the bone, the gratifying yet intense feeling seeps through his being and settles inside of him in a way that it slowly consumes the crevices of his mind, until all that is left of him is nothing but a starved man who only longs for the feeling of your skin against his own.

There was a flicker of warmth in his expression and he closed his eyes as he relished in your kindness, your hands cradling his cheeks with warmth that coaxed his entire existence, your lips pressing against his forehead softly. Then, you started to pepper his face with small kisses and the man could only surrender to your touch, a dance of vulnerability and intimacy as he crumbled into your hold.

No one has ever come this close to him (a closeness that was a stranger to the pages of his past, a tender note composed solely for him), no one and nothing.

You spoke, murmuring against his skin and close to his lips: “Sunshine.” Humor weaves through your tone, teasing the absurdity of the mismatched title and the man who wears it with subtle grace.

“Don’t call me that.” He snarks yet no bite. It’s ironically funny how you use that nickname on him despite him being the complete contrast of it; he stands as the living paradox of the word itself.

The sound of laughter bubbles up in your throat and you answer, “Why not? It suits you perfectly, don’t you think?”

What else should you call the man who grasps the warmth and tender light in his chest only the sun could give? To be with him was to sit in the autumn sunlight, to sleep in the comfort of your sheets when the rain patters against your window, to walk barefoot on the sand even if it feels like shards of glasses against your sole, to be with him was to simply exist; you’ve never met anyone who had the sun for a soul and he has never met anyone who had the stars in their eyes, and while you had the universe etched on the palm of your hands, he has your name engraved on his.

iii. lips

Your lips ghost against his own, albeit in a tantalizing manner, teasing and quite slow—but he wasn’t a patient man.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” He whispers and you don't waver at his straightforwardness, having been used to this note. There was no hostility in his tone, just pure and raw desperation and desire to feel you.

You could imagine the eye roll he would give you had he not had his eyes closed at the moment, could imagine the frown on his expression while he spoke and could imagine it faltering soon when you finally kissed him, slow as if to savor the softness of his lips and how it reminds you of spring; he could not properly express the warmth on his chest at the thought of how you love him when he still tasted of heartache and war.

You part from him but remained close, foreheads pressed against one another, breathing heavily, and looking into each other’s eyes. You wanted to tell him that you will find him in every lifetime, but the silence between you two was enough to convey such strong affections that you could hear him respond: And I will love you in each one.

(And he somehow finds himself thinking at the same, this is what he deserves. He’d do these, these vulnerable moments where he lays himself bare for you to touch and hold even if you’ll see the scars and cracks on his skin, the falling and getting hurt despite the fear, the burning and constant searching for something, he’ll do it all over again—if it’s you.)

If someone were to ask him what forgiveness tastes like, he would utter your name—everything that he has ever longed for came in the form of you. And he fears that this longing will last forever even while you’re here, that this longing will grow even when he crumbles to dust, that this longing will outlive this body and weave life into the earth that swallows your existence.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[jgracie]

LEO AND Y/N’S GARAGE: AUTO REPAIR AND MECHANICAL MONSTERS

masterlist | rules

in which life after camp half-blood is everything you and leo could’ve wished for

pairing husband!leo valdez x wife!athena!reader

warnings none :)

on the radio . . . this is the life (amy macdonald), keep driving (harry styles)

an i read the bit w leo and calypsos repair shop in house of hades and knew what i had to do 👩🏼‍💻

Eventually, the scent of your lineage - half mortal, half Goddess - began to wear off. What once was the bane of your existence, singling you out as ‘different’ and putting you in danger from the moment you popped out of your mother’s brain, was now a faint odour, a mere memory of the life you once led and the people you knew.

Leo didn’t wear off, though. He could never. Your relationship had been unexpected by everyone who knew the two of you. Pristine, perfect Y/N, daughter of Athena, the girl who not only stayed within the lines but drew them herself, and Leo Valdez, a messy, wild son of Hephaestus. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew you wouldn’t stand him. He was persistent and annoying, never giving you a moment’s peace and tearing down the walls you so carefully built around yourself. 

In the end, he grew on you, and you realised you had a lot more in common than you thought. For example, your love of machinery. For as long as you could remember, you gravitated towards wires and nuts and bolts, only stopping when you got to camp as your life became filled with training and learning about the side of the family you didn’t even know you had. You used to longingly stare at the Hephaestus kids, itching to pick up a wrench and join them as they made all sorts of weaponry. Now, you own your very own garage: Leo and Y/N’s Garage: Auto-repair and Mechanical Monsters.

It started off as a silly joke between you and Leo. You were newly graduated and after spending so much time taking care of the Godly side of your family, you forgot what life as a mortal was like. Sure, you always wanted to be a mechanic, but what now? You didn’t want to work for someone else. You spent your whole life working for other people and watching as everyone you loved had shrouds burnt for them (if they were lucky), so you thought it was only fair if you did something for yourself. 

“We could always open our own garage,” Leo had said when you voiced your thoughts that day, “‘Leo and Y/N’s Garage: Auto-repair and Mechanical Monsters’ has a nice ring to it, right?” 

You laughed, saying something along the lines of “get real, Valdez,” before deciding to help him as he cooked dinner. Little did you know, Leo was being real. The next morning, he started looking for places he could rent for your garage. A few months after that, he began furnishing it and months after that, he started advertising. Once he was sure that everything was perfect, he decided to show you his little project, a velvet box with a certain piece of very valuable metal weighing down his coat pocket.

Today marks the six year anniversary of the opening of your garage (as well as the six year anniversary of your engagement), and to say business was booming would be an understatement. It started off as a place for mortals only, they’d drop off their cars and the nicer ones would stay for a little to make small talk, marvelling at your stories of how you sailed from the US to Europe together on a ship Leo built himself (you censored a lot of your experiences, of course), but after you expanded the garage, making it almost twice as big as it was before, you thought, ‘Why not let this be a place for demigods, too?’ 

Hidden from the eyes of mortals, the second half of your garage comes to life. There, you sell weaponry, armour and anything a demigod could possibly need, as well as providing a safe haven for those who needed recuperation after a long and tiring quest. You loved meeting them all, giving them advice and comfort as proof that things do get better and not all demigods die at the age of 16. 

“Leo, have you seen Espe?” You yelled, wiping the grime from your hands as you realised your daughter had gone missing. Your son was too young to be at the garage and usually you’d stay with him, but your hands were itching for a hammer and your dear sister and brother-in-law offered to babysit, so why not let them? Your daughter was another case. She seemed to have inherited her parents’ inability to sit still and love for making things, insisting on spending all her time at work with the two of you as soon as she could walk. 

On cue, Leo waltzed into the mortal side of the garage, your first born daughter, named Esperanza after his mother, in one arm and a toolbox in the other. “She decided to amuse herself with daddy’s magic toolbelt,” he said, sitting down on a nearby stool and placing her on his lap, “summoned about 50,000 gummy bears. I’m surprised she managed to override the cooldown on it, I’ve been trying to figure that out for years”

“Gummy bear?” She asked, looking up at Leo then at you, a grin - one she clearly got from her father - gracing her lips as she suddenly seemed interested in your conversation, making the two of you break into fits of laughter, which in turn made her laugh. Did she know what she was laughing about? No, but it didn’t matter anyway.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, you were being watched. Sydney and Aaron, the two demigods you were hosting as the former’s leg healed, were going to tell you that they were good to leave tomorrow when they stopped, noticing you were having a moment.

“It’s hard to remember they’re demigods too,” Aaron began, “they seem so… normal. No chaos, no monsters, nothing,” he stared longingly at you, then down at the girl next to him. Could they have that too?

As if she read his mind, Sydney took his hand in hers and smiled, “we’ll make it, trust me. They went through a lot before this, remember? They were part of the last great prophecy. If they can do it, so can we.”

If you had told your past self that you’d marry the one boy who managed to get under your skin, start a family with him and open not just a garage, but a place where demigods could feel a sliver of normalcy, you would’ve laughed in your own face.

[alcoholfreenayeon]

The Ryujin headcanon’s were so spot on, could I request a Yeji version please?💕

Yeji Girlfriend HCs

SFW HCs

The silliest and sweetest person ever. She’ll be so loving and caring towards you. Always ready to do anything for you.

She shows her vulnerable side to you, expressing her concerns, issues and feelings to you frequently yet at the same time tries to brush it off because she sometimes feels like a bother.

When she’s tired she clings on to you like a koala. Resting her head on your shoulders or chest.

She likes to send you lots of selfies when she’s away. She gets worried about you easily, constantly asking if you have eaten well and slept well. She always secretly steals a shirt if your when she’s away so she can keep your scent.

She doesn’t have a favorite spot to kiss you, instead she prefers that you kiss her instead. She’ll get close and either stare at you or keep shuffling restlessly until you give her a kiss to calm her down.

She puts herself under more pressure and stress than necessary because she feels like the oldest member and leader she has to be the example, set the standard and not show weakness.

She sometimes tries to cook for you but her clumsiness makes it more challenging than Yeji would like. Once you were napping and woke up to smoke and panicked thinking it was a fire only to find out Yeji accidentally burnt the cookies she was trying to make.

Her smile always makes you feel weak, she’s just that pretty.

Yeji introduced you to the rest of Itzy quite easily, she was proud to show you off and was happy to have you. The other members did try to tease her a little but her spirits were too high for some teasing to faze her.

Whenever she wakes up before you, she likes to confess how much she loves you and how happy you make her feel. But she says it quietly because she doesn’t want you to wake up and feels too shy to saw it when you are awake.

NSFW HCs

She’s quite loving but can also be a little insatiable at times. Especially when she’s been away for a while, Yeji just can’t have enough of you.

She can make out for hours with you, her hands roaming everywhere.

She likes it when you talk dirty to her though whenever you mention it afterwards, she just covers her ears and tells you to shut up, her face completely red.

Always leaves marks on your neck. She just has to, the idea of kissing and biting and sucking your neck is so appealing to her.

She likes being gently choked a few rounds in so things feel even more intense.

She doesn’t mind being bold in public, sometimes when you both are out for dinner, you’ll feel her leg touch yours, tracing upwards slowly and dangerously all while she her face is innocently listening to you.

Car rides tend to get heated, teasing and suggestive comments, lots of touching and results in a lot of built up sexual tension so either you both end up heading home early or pull over to….release the tension.

Recently Yuna accidentally ended up walking in the dressing room because she saw Yeji was alone there only to hear you and Yeji on the phone saying something she definitely didn’t need to hear. To make matters worse worse, she had walked in noisily, calling out Yeji only to hear you speak about the things you and Yeji would do when she comes back.

She always dresses up, trying out different styles to see what she likes and what you like.

She likes the idea of roleplaying but hasn’t really done it yet or asked you because she doesn’t know how to bring it up without feeling embarrassed.

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™?

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name?

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈 You're fine!! And I'm open to doing that! I'll add it to my list hehe

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

[w0yxe]

Imagine the past soulmates of the Bad Boys seeing how much their partner has changed this season.

Scar couldn’t care less.

Or atleast that’s what he tries to tell himself. Grian never even loved him in Double Life so why should Scar care how he’s doing? BigB should probably be more confused then him even if Scar knows this entire persona is very out of character for Grian. The alliance probably won’t even last, knowing him he’ll probably betray his allies.

But no matter how much he tries to tell himself that he doesn’t care, he can’t get rid of the feeling that this is the only time Grian has changed his skin in the entire series.

The two full seasons Scar had been with Grian, the latter never switched out of his red sweater but now that Jimmy and Joel have rolled around suddenly he’s in a leather jacket with sunglasses? Occasionally even a suit? He can only feel a little hurt because at the end of the day Grian probably doesn’t care about him anymore…it’s not like hes made an effort to talk.

————————————————————————

Tango doesn’t know how to feel.

This wasn’t his rancher, this wasn’t the ball of sunshine that he knew last season. This guy was…confident? He was bolder and Tango didn’t know if he liked that or not. His Jimmy, his rancher, was sweet and caring, even if he was airheaded at times it was all with their best interest in mind.

Maybe it was just his exterior now but it looked far less friendly than the one Tango knew, jean jacket now replaced with leather and sunglasses permanently covering his shining blue eyes. The oceans eyes that put out Tangos flames of rage in the lowest point of their lives when Scar had burnt down their ranch.

This Jimmy also only seemed to take risks and not care about his own safety, dying twice to pure stupidity and recklessness. It would hurt Tango, like a phantom pain, every time he had to see a death message from “SolidarityGaming” in chat. Especially if it was easily preventable. Especially if it wouldn’t had happened had Tango been with him instead.

————————————————————————

Etho didn’t see a change.

Joel had always been more reckless than the average player. He would mlg off cliffs for crying out loud! His hostile personality also stayed the same although it did come out more being able to fully embrace it with this facade and all. While that personality may have been directed at him (or his cows) sometimes it was nothing Etho couldn’t handle.

Especially with that shoulder cut leather jacket, studs lining the edges of the sleeves and sunglasses that make it look as though he were staring you down whenever you talk to him.

There was a strange feeling in him though, when he heard that he wanted to built on the sea with Jimmy. That feeling only grew when he’d overhear the trio laughing about whatever jokes they’d decide to make.

Joel was also smiling. It’s not like he hadn’t with Etho but the smile Etho knew seemed to hide the truth of “please don’t leave me, I can do these things for you” “I’m worthy of your affection” whereas this one was of pure enjoyment with his team. He just wished he treated Joel better so that instead of only having memories from one season, he would be the one making Joel laugh and smile in this one.

[luci4theminorannoyance]

Hi! may I request something? the residential masked fellas (Ghost, Konig, Keegan, & Roach), x therapist!reader, who's a billionaire? (shocking part, the billionaire part was not mentioned by our reader) I imagine reader spoiling their s/o with gifts & affectionate stuff they deserve, while helping them get a sense of theirselves or something like that 😭 (most of the cod characters need therapy, to be honest) BUT- they start to suspect how on earth did reader get all of the stuff? cause i'm sure reader gifted them the expensive kind- but anyways, reader just casually just says their a billionaire, like it's normal- how would they react to this?

Please take care of yourself & stay safe !! 💖

a/n: you take care too!!! Sorry to all my followers for not posting in forever 😔 I had family stuff going on, and I’m a bit burnt out so I couldn’t come up with story plots for some of the characters

konig:

-konig is a well off man to begin with, but doesn’t use much of the money he earns with his impressive title as he has little idea what to actually buy when it comes to things being worthwhile, and hence since you give him so many gifts, his house is mostly filled with gifts then actual things he bought

-always took the gifts at face value and adored the thought put into them and never really thought to think of how much money you must spend

-eventually though, one of his few off duty friends asked why he had such high class things in his house as they pointed out gifts you had simply given him and he started to get quite curious himself

-called you up one night to ask, waking you up as he asked a simple “uh- maus? You know the mixer you got me last week when I said I wanted to make cookies is 800 dollars, why??”

-you had to stop laughing out loud from his confusion since you thought you had been open with it due to the amount of things you simply gave him

Roach:

-stayed in his cramped barracks a lot of the time and very rarely replaced any of his tearing gear because he was too tired to do so, he just generally didn’t care how the public saw him and had little care on himself

-of course that changed when you practically threw him new clothes, new gear, new facial care for his tiny apartment he used when off duty. He started to actually enjoy getting to indulge in a massage or a face mask while he simply felt all clean

-of course, he thought it was all temporary, that you were just spending a particular amount on a well paying month, but as it went on and on continued, he started to get more and more confused

-one day when you took him on a shopping trip, he saw you check your checking account and THATS when he realized that you planned to pay for his every whim personally and could without damage… a very flustering experience

Ghost:

-never truly is off guard even when off duty or around people, it’s built into him from trauma and past and his job doesn’t help to much with that

-however, he does have a particularly interesting hobby that calms him down more then most things can, even you (although he adores you with all his heart). And that hobbies is photography. Of things he enjoys, that is. He never put money into a very good camera, never seeing the need in doing so until you bought him one…

-he cherishes that camera more then he cherishes his mask, which is saying quite a bit. He didn’t know how much he actually needed the upgrade till he saw the difference in his photos

-he of course, shows it off to his team. And soap points out exactly how pricey it must be for a lil old therapist to buy. he starts to get worried, did you spend money you didn’t have on him? Did he take away from your own funds? Did he just take it and not think about the damage you might have created yourself without even thinking twice???

-calls you on his burner phone in a tiny bit of a panic, but it doesn’t show too much under his gruff tone. He lets out a sigh he didn’t notice he was holding in once you told him that you in fact had the money to buy that camera 100 times over

[fandomsnrambles]

The spinjitzu family has recently become my roman empire for some reason, you’re all going to see so much of them 😭

Anyway, i’ve been thinking about his relationships with his sons recently. And I know he doesn’t have a good relationship with any of them.

I know people argue ‘Wu was his favourite’ but i think if we actually look at how he acts, you realise he didn’t really have a favourite. I also feel personally inclined to respectfully mention that just because Garmadon said it, doesn’t make it true. Characters have biases that mess with their worldviews after all. It’s like saying Wu’s to blame for the devourer’s bite because he said he was. Even though he was like seven, maybe nine and had no idea that snake even existed.

Thats why you should take everything they say with a grain of salt and then consider their actions.

Wu’s relationship with his father is complicated. In the spinjitzu books he mentions how he wants his father’s approval, but doesn’t know how to start with getting it. We also get hints of the FSM’s (flawed) parenting methods in the show. I’ve noticed he’s emotionally distant even if he’s physically there. I mean, Wu says his father talked to them (Garmadon and Wu) less after the Aspheera incident. Makes me think that the FSM was definitely not there emotionally.

Due to this, Wu’s emotional needs as a child weren’t really met. His fathers distance hurt him and the FSM (maybe accidentally) neglected him. I say accidentally because i’m pretty sure the FSM is a traumatised child soldier who doesn’t know how to properly cope with everything so they just shut down/dissociate.

Wu was also raised with high expectations (alongside Garmadon.) This probably put him under a lot of stress to keep up. I’m thinking gifted child who got burnt out and more depressed as he aged.

I also think the FSM has trust and paranoia issues. You can look at Nineko and the way they went about dying for this. This guy really hands their son a script of where he died without telling him he gave it to him and mentions the bare minimum details. (I wonder if mentioning too much details got the FSM hurt. Maybe thats why he’s so distant.) Of course, trauma doesn’t really excuse being a flawed parent.

I also feel the need to mention that Wu unintentionally copies his father’s trauma responses. Heck, we could even talk about how Garmadon does the same, and later Lloyd. They all bottle their emotions and issues and hope nothing bad ever happens with that ever. Too bad for them though, we know how this ends

(Oof this is ✨generational trauma✨ at work)

Moving on to Garmadon, we know that after he got bitten by the devourer, the FSM helped him through his episodes and tries his best to find a cure. From this i can honestly say that the FSM did love and care for his sons. But this doesn’t mean they knew how to properly show that they did (especially because he doesn’t have a proper basis for what parent-child relationships should even look like.)

We see this when we get to know of Garmadon’s insecurities as a child. He doesn’t think there was anything wrong with him and seems to hate how the FSM tries to find a cure for him. Maybe because he doesn’t like the implication that he needs ‘fixing’ more than anything else. Garmadon’s also different than Wu in the sense that he grows more resentful of his father as he grows older whilst Wu clings to his father’s attention to get approval/praise.

I also want to mention how this resentment built up also affects how his perception of Wu’s relationship with their dad. He thinks Wu is favoured probably because Wu doesn’t have the venom and is the good one (because the venom apparently makes Garmadon the ‘bad’ one) and he sees his younger brother as the golden child. This probably built to jealousy and then guilt for the jealousy because Garmadon does love his brother a lot.

The high expectations also come’s into play here. It probably puts a lot of weight on Garmadon’s shoulders. Which doesn’t make his growing feelings of resentment better nor does it make his insecurities about his venom any better.

What makes this whole situation worse is that NO ONE in this family knows how to communicate. Wu doesn’t tell his dad or his brother how he feels, Garmadon doesn’t as well and FSM wouldn’t be caught breathing a word of his feelings to be honest.

This whole family would rather die than communicate ffs.

In conclusion:

[mostly-marvel-musings]

So Inappropriate

A/N: Alright, you guys wanted it, here it is. This little ficlet based off of the video that’s got our Stark Squad all riled up. Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you enjoyed it.

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut-ish fluff. There is a significant age gap between the reader and Tony (say 20 years?) Also the reader is Bruce Banner’s assistant.

Word count: 1896

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

You were just about done arranging the equipment in the lab when you heard the door slide open.

“Dr. Banner, I’m done for the day unless you need me for anything else!” you called out without glancing up, not realizing the person who had walked in certainly wasn’t your boss.

“Dr. Banner has left the premises for the day, Miss Y/L/N. But I might need you for something.”

Tony Stark made an appearance, his signature smirk adorning his face as he traipsed in closer, his walk oozing all sorts of confidence and authority. Of course, your face did very little to hide the blush that creeped up, heating your cheeks in an instant.

Why did this man have such an influence on you? You’d never know.

Well, not exactly. It was pretty obvious. The genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist had this effect on most individuals. His natural charisma and intimidating presence was all wrapped in an impeccably trimmed-goatee-bearing handsome package. The guy was senior to you. Much senior. But there was something about him that always drew you in, an impish charm that was all too endearing, his commanding aura that compelled you to behave. Almost challenged you to confront your deepest, darkest desires.

“Earth to Y/N?” he snapped you out of your reverie, making you accidentally knock over a set of beakers kept on the platform.

Cursing under your breath, you bent to pick up the shattered glass as did Tony, resulting in your head banging against his, further adding to your embarrassment.

Just great!

“Careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Tony murmured, taking the shards of glass from your hand as Dum-E, one of his bots zoomed in to sweep it all away.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I–I’m sorry.” you fumbled, wincing as you saw you an angry drop of red ooze out of your finger from where you had evidently cut yourself.

“Ah, you poor thing. C’mere.” not awaiting a response, Tony clutched your hand and brought it to his lips, gently sucking on your index finger all while his eyes bore into yours.

A part of you wanted to run away from the scene like a scaredy cat but, the other part was completely rooted to the spot. Not daring to move an inch, as if if you did, your little daydream would break. Your cheeks probably burnt with the heat, and you could feel your pulse rush to the part of your finger that was currently in his mouth, smarting. His tongue soothed over the cut softly, sending tingles of desire down your back, the moistness between your legs increasing with his little action.

He is your boss. Not exactly but he built this place. He was your boss’s best friend. These thoughts were quite inappropriate.

Almost as quickly as it began, he let go of your hand, his touch still lingering strong as you cleared your throat, watching his bot whir away from the scene.

“Thank you, I think. Um. For your help.” you stared at your feet, unsure what to do next.

You grabbed your things and stuffed them in your bag, very aware of the fact that Tony and signature smirk were following your every move.

Why was this man allowed to have this effect on you?

You stopped right by the door, turning back to face the man who hadn’t moved from his spot.

“Uh, Mr. Stark? You said you wanted me for something?”

“Right! Well, we have a charity, inauguration, felicitation, something here at the Tower in two days. I wanted you to come.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at you intently as he waited for an answer.

“Oh! Are–are you sure?”

That was a surprise. You had been working with Dr. Banner for a better part of a year now however it had always been strictly professional. You were aware of the many, many galas and events that took place, you were just never a part of them. Until now.

“Yeah. I’ll have Big Green send you the details. You can bring a date. Or not.”

He winked cheekily, walking up the stairs right next to you before the doors slid open once again, gesturing you to go first.

Needless to say you were flabbergasted. A rush of excitement brought a pep in your step as you headed home, going through your wardrobe in detail and what could be a Stark-party-worthy outfit.

.

Tony’s eyes scanned the room, eager to find you in a sea of impeccably dressed people. He couldn’t shake you off from his thoughts. Not for a while now, if he would admit to himself.

His curiosity grew ever since he saw you for the first time, entering the lab and giving Bruce Banner a shy smile, eyes locking with him and holding his gaze, almost unable to look away. He sensed you were nervous, it was cute. It made his cock stir. He could not remember the last time he felt this way. You were a young, smart, vivacious thing that was too young for him, and yet he couldn’t resist you.

Not that he tried. You drew him in right from the start.

Tony had found you chatting animatedly to your boss some time later. You looked stunning in the floor-length number you had decided on. Your features were beautifully highlighted with the hair and make-up you’d chosen.

His wish to have you closer had been fulfilled as the party warmed up, people sat around in groups, drinks in their hands while conversation flowed. Of course, the Avengers had a favorite corner they had gathered at, the center of attention being the one and only, Iron Man. He was awarded a trophy for his philanthropic work earlier which now sat in his lap proudly, an almost phallic-shaped glass that had his name etched.

“I can’t be the only one thinking this.” Tony smirked, holding the award against his crotch and earning collective groans from the crowd around. The action brought warmth rushing to your cheeks, your wildly imaginative mind pictured him doing that to his member, letting out soft grunts.

“You alright, Miss Y/L/N?” Your attention was captured by someone standing next to you, pointing to your dress.

Unknown to your preoccupied self, the filled glass of wine you held had tilted enough to spill on your dress.

“Oh God! Shit!” you exclaimed, turning a few heads your way as you grabbed a few tissues to blot the spilled liquid as much as you could. The darker color of your dress masked the big stain that had probably formed.

It was hard to miss Tony’s piercing gaze as he gave you one of his lopsided grins, clearly giddy with the reaction he had hoped his stunt would achieve. If anything, one fact was becoming clearer by the day.

Your attraction towards this man was increasing and it seemed he was equally interested in you too.

.

It had been a hectic week, you sighed and leaned back against your chair, closing your eyes for a moment as your exhausted body relaxed momentarily. You couldn’t wait to get home and soak your butt in a hot bubble bath.

With the events of Ultron, there had been extra work load that you had volunteered to help out with at the Tower. You didn’t mind, of course. It meant spending a lot of time with the Avengers and a particular one at that too. Tony spent hours, sometimes days holed up in the lab, working with Bruce and yourself.

It was almost impossible not to be distracted or turned on by his presence there. To see him laser-focused at work, fingers gliding over keyboards and holograms in front of them as he paced about the space. It was all too hot.

Shutting your computer for the day, you grabbed your things and made your way out of the lab. Tony had retreated back to his floor some time ago and had promptly forgotten his phone on his work desk. It rang with a start, catching your attention and making you walk back in to grab it.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to bother the billionaire genius in his home since there had been multiple occasions where Dr. Banner asked you to summon the man whenever he got a lead on Ultron.

The elevator dinged to a stop, the doors opening to his grand living room that offered a view of New York people would kill for. His bedroom door seemed left ajar as you made your way over, stopping in your tracks as you heard a muffled groan.

Curiosity got the better of you as you sneaked a look inside his bedroom, not able to stop yourself as the sounds increased.

You felt your mouth go dry at the sight before you. Tony lay on his bed against the pillows, eyes scrunched up, pants undone., soft sighs leaving his lips as his hand moved up and down on his erect cock.

It felt so wrong to watch him pleasure himself in the privacy of his own home and yet so right, you felt yourself blush at the sight. It was like you were unable to look away, he had his fingers wrapped around his shaft, moving at a steady pace as you saw precum leak at the tip of his head. His pretty, thick lips were parted while his chest rose and fell, eyes shut in ecstasy.

You were about to peel your gaze away from the scene when you heard a faint whisper of what you thought was your name.

“Oh Y/N..” his breathy moan sent desire to pool right between your legs, a part of you still processing the whole thing while the other wanting to push that door open and join the man or perhaps help him finish.

His thumb swiped across his red tip before the pace of his strokes increased, his pants echoed in the room while you felt your entrance clench around nothing, desiring the very man who was masturbating while thinking of you.

You were sure your panties were ruined by the time Tony’s hips jerked and you saw him climax, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and spilling on his hand and lower abdomen. That had to be the hottest thing you’d seen in your life.

You definitely needed to take care of yourself after this, that bubble bath was going to be an elaborate one. His softened cock still lay open for your eyes to feast on, his cum scattered on his body begging you to be licked clean.

Your thoughts came to a standstill when the phone you held in your hand rang terribly loudly, interrupting the little moment. Your scramble to hide or run was rendered useless when Tony glanced outside and saw you.

“It is rude of you to just stand out there and watch, Miss Y/L/N. So inappropriate.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅

I'm already deciding on part 3, so don't bother asking for it! do feel free to send in suggestions, characters for her to end up with, etc.

find part 1 here.

summary - after your breakup with steve, you change, no longer wanting to deal with your emotions. after months of your team not hearing from or seeing you, they decide to track you down.

warning - angst, death.

the gif and header I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

The Avengers were worried. Your friends and family were concerned. Hell, even your asshole of an ex was worried. It has been months since anyone had seen or heard from you, not since the day of the gathering. The house you and Steve used to live in was burnt to a crisp. Nothing was left. You had just disappeared. Steve ended up getting a couple of bruises and some broken bones that healed from your friends. They knew he was the reason for this.

You stood there, covered in blood and surrounded by dead bodies. You had been minding your own business, wanting to grab some food and return to your cabin, but these men. Oh, these men. Why did they have to think they were better than you? Why couldn’t they have minded their own business and left you alone? Was their entire species built on invading a woman’s life? Could they not just fuck off. You were so annoyed, looking around at the pathetic beings that lay bloody and lifeless. “Men.” You growl quietly before bending down to grab your bags full of food and return to where you call home. You guess this could be a time to think about everything you have done and that has happened. 

Sure, burning your house down was probably a bit over the top. But you wanted to get rid of the memory of Steve, and that was the only thing you could think of at the time. Some may call you childish or crazy for how you dealt with your emotions, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care anymore. You had spent years in a relationship with a man who was stuck in the past, who had thought you were only meant to cook, clean and bear his children. Steve didn’t really love you, he just wanted to use you, and it took him behaving like a child and throwing a tantrum for you to see he wasn’t meant for you.

It doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun. In the end, you did love him. He did have a piece of your heart. The woman inside of you was grieving and hurting. She begged you to forgive him, make him see you were meant for him. But you were stronger than her. You know that no man could ever treat you like that. You know he wasn’t right for you, and you were on a war path. You groaned as you walked up the stairs and onto your porch. Making your way into your house, you walk past everything and to the kitchen, where you place the bags down. “Hello, people who do not live here.” You hum, facing your old team members, who look shocked as you are covered in blood. 

“Y/n?” Nat steps forward, looking you up and down, trying to determine if the blood is yours. You nod, digging into the bag and pulling out your food. You reach over and grab a fork as you begin to dig in. 

“That’s my name.” You give a sarcastic smile, chewing on your food. Your eyes move over everyone before focusing on your ex. “What’s he doing here? I thought you were too busy finding someone else to put up with your shit? Ya know…” You jump up onto the counter, swinging your legs as you glare. “Someone who would make a better mother than I would.” You smile before stuffing more food into your mouth, humming at its taste. 

Tony tilts his head, making his way over to you, unafraid. “You’ve changed.” His eyes move over your face, and yours connect with him. He smiles. “I like it.” He pulls you into a hug, “I missed you, kid.” You smile, patting his back.

“Missed you too, dumbass.” He pulls back, and the rest of the Avengers make their way over to hug you, letting you know how much they’ve missed you and how worried they’ve been. “So… Whatcha doing here? I won’t ask how you found me because that’d be a stupid question.” 

“As we said, we were worried.” Nat tilts her head, “were you attacked?” You shrug, chewing your food more. “Y/n?”

“Sorta, I guess? I don’t know. Men don’t know how to mind their business.” Your focus moves to the container in your hand, barely noticing the looks they give each other. “Yes, I killed them, and it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal?! You murdered people! See, this is why I said what I said.” Steve growls, staring you down as he tries to make you uncomfortable. 

“What is it, asshole day?” You groan, tilting your head back as you feel a headache form. “Yes, Steven. I murdered people, and again, you’ve stated I wouldn’t be a good mother. How about you get over that?” You hum, shovelling more food into your mouth as you stare at him without emotion. You point your fork at him. “Have you ever stopped to think that maybe you're the problem? Maybe you're the one who wouldn’t make a good parent? I mean, let’s face it, you have issues. You can’t even keep anything good in your life, and when you do find something good, you try and destroy it because you are so self-absorbed.” You roll your eyes, ignoring how some team members chuckle as you tear the retired Captain a new one. “You think you're better than any of us? You’ve killed, too. You’ve done worse. So what if I did the world a favour and took out some pathetic men? What are you going to do? What is worse than you ripping my heart out like I meant nothing to you?” You place the food down, hop off the counter and approach him with a glare. 

And the dumbass decides to open his mouth. “Well, if you want my opinion–” 

“I don’t.” Your glare hardens, jaw clenching as you stop yourself from killing him, especially in front of your friends and family. “I have my own.” Everyone’s breath hitches when you step closer to the towering man. “Now, if you don’t mind. I don’t want trash in my house, so I suggest you find the door before I set you on fire.” You growl lowly, sending shivers up everyone’s spines before you turn and go into your bathroom, needing to get the blood of the useless off of you. 

Once you finish showering and changing into comfier clothes, you return and stop when you notice everyone bar one, still here. “Oh, you guys didn’t leave?” You look over and see Wanda preparing a feast in your kitchen while everyone else makes themselves at home around your cabin. You look around to make sure Steve isn’t hiding around a corner. “Huh, I guess trash does know how to take itself out.” Your head turns as you hear Tony laugh, nearly falling out of his seat.

“Oh, kid. You don’t know how much I missed you and your sarcasm.” He sips the very expensive whiskey that you may or may not have stolen from him. “Morgan’s missed you too, especially how you’d teach her your sarcastic ways.” You smile softly, accepting a glass from Natasha as she walks up to you. 

“I’ve missed her too. I’m sorry for not rushing over when she got hurt.” You take a sip, leaning into Natasha as she wraps an arm around you. 

Tony shrugs. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise. She had help plus. She isn’t even your kid. You shouldn’t have to apologise for not rushing to someone else’s kid.” He rubs his forehead, “It’s not your job to do that. Sure, when you are on the field. I get it because that’s our job.” Tony points at you. “Don’t let Captain tightass get to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.” 

You smile, “Thanks, Tony. Always one for wise words.” You smile when Wanda comes around and kisses your cheek softly, mentioning that dinner’s ready. You all head over to the table and sit down, feeling a pair of eyes on you. You turn and notice Bucky staring at you with a soft smile. “What’s up, Buck?” 

He shakes his head, “nothing. I just want you to know that I tried talking some sense into him, and when he didn’t listen and we found out the truth of your disappearance, we kicked his ass.” You giggle, shaking your head at the image. Bucky flashes a proud smile at making you laugh. He’s happy you’re smiling and loves his best friend, but Steve didn’t deserve someone like you. You deserved the world, and he knew the rest of the team was thinking it.

“Thank you, you guys didn’t have to do that. I know you’ve known him longer than you’ve known me, but I appreciate the love you’ve shown me.” You thank them, feeling loved even though deep down you feel broken. Once dinner was over, they said their goodbyes and left, promising that they’ll come and see you again. You were left alone once again. Left in your thoughts as the broken woman inside you pounded against your heart, she wanted out. She wanted to cry and grieve the relationship you once had. But anger was better than tears, better than grief, better than guilt. You walked into your bathroom and stared at yourself in the mirror. The person staring back at you wasn’t who Steve had left. She was different. “How could you have been so stupid?” You spoke to her, watching her mouth move like yours did. “Why did you fall for him?! Why did you give your heart over?!” You screamed, your fist flying forward and shattering the glass. 

You were better off alone. Maybe one day you could open your heart again, and maybe one day you’ll find the person right for you. But right now, you needed to find yourself, find the woman you were without him. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

part 3

[mysteryshoptls]

SR Silver - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Silver Version ～Let's Make Beef Stew 1～

Silver: Beef stew… A dish needing to be boiled in a pot, of all things. I'm hoping I don't mess this up.

Ghost Chef: "Of all things"? Is there something worrying you?

Silver: Well…I actually have a bad habit where I find myself abruptly falling asleep.

Silver: Waiting for food to cook is no exception… I've fallen asleep while cooking before, leading to many failed dishes.

Ghost Chef: I had briefly glanced at what you wrote in your reasons for taking this class, but I see you were telling the truth about falling asleep easily.

Riddle: It's rather dangerous to fall asleep while cooking. Has it ever resulted in a fire?

Silver: In Briar Valley, we generally prepare our food using magic. This means that even our flames for cooking are produced via our own magical abilities.

Silver: If I were to fall asleep, my magic would also be cut off and the fire would disappear, so even I haven't had to deal with a fire hazard as such.

Ghost Chef: Hahaha. So it was like you had a built-in automatic shut-off function.

Silver: As it was, back when I couldn't use magic, my father would light the flames for me.

Silver: This meant that even when I dozed off, my father would tend to the fire and he'd adjust… I mean, finish up the dish.

Silver: However, as a child I hadn't realized just how much my father had been trying to keep me from danger.

Silver: That's why I had believed that there would be no issues if I attempted to cook by myself…

Silver: One time, while my father was away, I attempted to cook over a wood fire.

Silver: The morning had been particularly cold that day… So I thought I would make a pot-au-feu for my father.

Silver: I was able to chop the ingredients, throw them in a pot, and season everything with no issues…

Silver: But perhaps that is where I let down my guard. I dozed off while the pot was still on the flame.

Riddle: Ah, but that was quite dangerous! It wasn't fire borne from magic, yes?

Riddle: What happened next?

Silver: I somehow woke up before any fire hazard took place. However, by that point, all the water had boiled away…

Silver: So, I added water to the pot in haste, which only served to turn the whole soup black as the charred bits dissolved into the liquid.

Silver: The dish was a failure. The whole house smelled like char. Just as I was at my wit's end, my father returned home.

Riddle: …Did he scold you?

Silver: Not at all. He just laughed, relieved that I hadn't hurt myself.

Silver: He also said that failure was a stepping stone to improvement for next time.

Silver: Furthermore, he scooped up a bowl of that black and burnt pot-au-feu and ate it without any hesitation.

Silver: My father said that it had a distinctive flavor even as it was, but… There was no way it was anywhere near edible.

Riddle: …He seems to be a very kind father.

Silver: He is, I'm glad to have him.

Riddle: Did you ever have the opportunity to learn how to cook from him?

Silver: He is an adept swordsman and mage, but… When it comes to cooking, both the ingredients he would use and the way he would cook constantly changed on a whim.

Silver: And he could never season anything the same way twice… In short, I never found my father's cooking style to be worth referencing.

Silver: That is why I consider myself self-taught. That being said, I always considered a dish good enough if it was edible.

Silver: All I can really do is chop up meat and vegetables and toss them in salt and pepper, or sometimes take leftovers to make risotto.

Riddle: It is fine enough that you are self-taught. I myself have never prepared anything by my lonesome.

Ghost Chef: Okay now, you two! Get to work, don't just chatter away!

Silver: Ah, right, my apologies… I should chop up the vegetables first.

Silver: I'll peel the carrots.

[peels carrots]

Ghost Chef: Oho～ You've got skills.

Silver: Blades are somewhat of a specialty of mine.

Silver: Next are the onions.

[peels onions]

Riddle: Silver, I am in need of an onion as well. Will you teach me how to peel them?

Ghost Chef/Silver: …?

Riddle: Wh-Why are both of you staring at me strangely!? Was my question that bizarre…?

Silver: It can be peeled by hand.

Riddle: I was not asking for the method of peeling, exactly… Rather, I can't seem to grasp where the peel ends specifically.

Silver: Oh, that's what you meant. The peel is the thin, brown layer on top. The white part is what's edible.

Ghost Chef: If there are any areas that seem to be discolored brown, you can just cut it out.

Riddle: I should cut out the discolored spots…? It's a little disconcerting to create random divots like that.

Ghost Chef: Hmm, Riddle-kun, you're very thorough!

Silver: Don't worry too much. At worst, even if some of the peel were to remain, it would just stick to the inside of your mouth. It is still edible.

Ghost Chef: And on the other hand, Silver-kun, you're much too loose-minded!

Silver: Alright, I've finished chopping up the vegetables and meat. Now, we melt butter in a hot pan…

Silver: And brown the meat.

[sizzle]

Silver: It's almost time to add the vegetables. …Ordinarily, I would just salt and pepper it here and consider it done.

Ghost Chef: That would be a fine dish if it were with a regular sirloin steak. However, shank and tendon taste much better stewed～

Silver: So different cuts of meat are cooked differently, I see. I'd never really thought about that before.

Silver: …Chef, the onions are starting to become translucent, are they sauteed enough?

Ghost Chef: Oh yes, it looks good! Now add water and bring it to a boil.

Silver: It seems we've finally come to the dreaded moment of boiling the stew. I worry I may nod off…

Ghost Chef: Hehehe… Have I got just the thing for you to keep your mind off your worries.

Silver: What is it?

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Silver Version ～Let's Make Beef Stew 2～

Ghost Chef: Let me introduce you to this… Ta-da! An electric pressure cooker!

Silver: An electric pressure cooker…?

Silver: I think I get it. If I use a pressure cooker, that would decrease the amount of time the stew needs to boil.

Silver: Plus, since it's electric, there's a timer function. Even if I were to fall asleep, the ingredients shouldn't char.

Ghost Chef: Yeah… That's basically it. You got it in one before I could even explain it.

Silver: This will be my first time using an electronic appliance to cook.

Riddle: Huh, your first time!? I have limited experience with cooking, and even I have used an electronic appliance like a microwave.

Silver: Of course I know of their existence, at the very least…

Silver: But I hadn't had the chance to use one since I enrolled here because I would just dine in the cafeteria.

Silver: In Briar Valley, most of the homes don't have electricity, let alone appliances like microwaves.

Riddle: Truly, it is a prerequisite to be able to use magic there, I see… It's a life I could not even begin to fathom.

Riddle: Although, I do believe that my magic would improve greatly if I were to live there.

Silver: With your magical prowess and competence, I'm sure you would have no issues living there.

Ghost Chef: Alright, Silver-kun. Throw all the ingredients into the electric pressure cooker.

Ghost Chef: Select the button on the menu panel that says "Beef Stew" and then press start!

[click]

Silver: It says… 20 minutes remaining.

Ghost Chef: Now you're all set. We just need to wait for it to cook.

Silver: Do we not have to keep watch over the pot? Will it need to be stirred midway through?

Ghost Chef: Don't worry, it'll come out fine. In fact, it'll be more prone to failure if we keep poking at it.

Ghost Chef: Leave the pressure cooker be for now, and instead, let's start on the demi-glace sauce!

Silver: It didn't take as long as I expected to make the sauce. I guess I should wash the dirtied pot and knife.

Silver: …I need to… wash the pot…

Ghost Chef: Oh! Hey, hey, Silver-kun!

Silver: Ah! That was close, I almost fell asleep. I can't let my guard down for even a moment.

Silver: I have no earthly idea why.

Ghost Chef: Well, since you stole my thunder a bit earlier, let me try to show you how the electric pressure cooker can be used.

Silver: Yes, please.

Ghost Chef: A handy pressure cooker is capable of crating any number of dishes, but it doesn't mean you have to follow a recipe to the letter.

Ghost Chef: If you swap out ingredients or seasonings, you can make a dish that is more aligned with your personal tastes.

Ghost Chef: For example, you know the ingredients we're using for today's stew?

Ghost Chef: If you chose to substitute tomato juice for the demi-glace sauce, you could make a tomato stew instead.

Silver: …My father loves tomato juice.

Silver: If I substituted tomato juice for the sauce… Maybe my father would gladly eat it up.

～～♪

Silver: What's that noise…? Oh, it's done cooking.

Ghost Chef: Go ahead and open up the lid to the pressure cooker. Take care not to burn yourself when you do.

Silver: Yes, sir.

[opens pot]

Silver: Wow…

Silver: Both the vegetables and meat are cooked to perfection. I would have never guessed that they'd get this tender in only 20 minutes.

Ghost Chef: Yes, yes, and now it's time for the finishing touches.

Silver: Now we add the demi-glace and a tad bit of ketchup to taste. That should be about good.

Silver: Mm, delicious!

Silver: Next, plate it and add boiled broccoli for garnish.

Silver: …Good, it's finished.

Ghost Chef: Not bad! Take the plate and head on out to the judging venue.

Silver: Right. No matter how difficult the judge may be, I'll definitely emerge the victor…!

Ghost Chef: Wait, hold on, you're not going into battle.

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

???: Ah, so you're my chef today, Silver.

Silver: Jamil. I've heard from Kalim that you're very proficient at cooking.

Silver: Within the school body, you're probably the most competent at cooking… Urk, am I even a viable opponent for someone like you?

Jamil: What kind of fight are you even trying to gear up for right now? Well, whatever. I'll dig in now.

[chomp]

Jamil: Hmm… It tastes okay.

Silver: Just okay, hm…

Jamil: However…

Jamil: I'll give you that the ingredients are cooked through pretty well. The meat is so tender it falls apart in my mouth almost instantly.

Jamil: This must have taken you some time, didn’t it? I would have thought you'd be in danger of falling asleep midway through…

Silver: Yeah, I was also worried about that. In fact, while I was waiting for it to stew, I could feel myself getting drowsy.

Silver: The reason this dish was a success was all thanks to the Chef allowing me to use a pressure cooker.

Silver: Since it only stewed for a short while, I was able to push through without drowsing off.

Jamil: That's surprising. I thought the Master Chef program was designed with a focus on improving your cooking abilities…

Jamil: But it seems they provide assistive tools for those who may be lacking in techniques or aptitude.  Good to know.

Silver: That's right, they gave me a good way to compensate for my lack of experience.

Silver: Even if I were to fall asleep, I can simply set a timer and the dish won't burn.

Silver: Also, when the timer goes off, it makes a noise, so it would wake me up… Or at least, it should.

Jamil: How did it ever come to your mind to use a pressure cooker as an alarm clock in the first place…?

Silver: I shouldn't constantly rely on outside tools… But I think it's something that I currently have a need for.

Jamil: Thank you for the food.

Jamil: I'm not sure how much of this can be said was of your own skills, but I'll say it was edible.

Silver: Well, it wasn't a flawless victory, but I suppose at least it wasn't an abject failure… I'll continue to work at it.

Ghost Chef: Well done! Looks like you made it through to the end without falling asleep.

Silver: Ah… That reminds me.

Silver: I started to think of how I'd like to make for my father the tomato stew and cabbage rolls that you mentioned…

Silver: Perhaps it's because that was on my mind that I was able to keep the drowsiness at bay.

Ghost Chef: That's because we can't help but try to put forth our best effort whenever we imagine how happy people would look eating our food.

Silver: I see… I guess your state of mind is rather important when it comes to cooking.

Requested by Anonymous.

[head---ache]

Hello, as many of you may know, I'm from Chile, and I want to share with you what's happening right now, and that has been happening every summer for as long as I can remember.

Every summer, as soon as December hits, we start to see impressively big forest fires, especially in the south of Chile, where there's the most vegetation to get burnt. As summer goes on, the fires start appearing all over the country.

These fires are widely believed to be started intentionally by real estate companies, to be able to build more houses, because these terrains aren't being sold to them because of the vegetation they possess, but after they're burnt, they are able to buy them, and build freely.

Today there are currently many fires happening in my region, in my city. This morning I just happened to visit the capital (Santiago) with my family, and on our way back home we saw three different fires.

My cousin wasn't able to return home from work, she'll have to look for somewhere to spend the night, on a different city. Some of my brother's friends had to evacuate their homes. Public transportation is not working right now. The streets are filled with infite traffic, of people having to evacuate their homes. Some of my friends' relatives lost their homes, and don't know if their pets are okay. There's so many people that got lost during the evacuations, especially children. And I don't even know when I will be able to post this, because I do not currently have access to internet, nor electricity, and up until recently, water was also unavailable.

I also need you to know that many of these fires happen in hills, where, usually, the most vulnerable people are situated. Many of the houses that are in danger started as tomas, and some of them still are. A 'toma' is the conquest or occupation by force of a square or city, and most of the times, these happen so that people who do not have a house, can build a house. These houses are built by these people, and are extremely vulnerable. This is who is in danger of losing all their efforts, their belongings, and the roof over their heads.

All of this to say, if you see someone from Chile asking for help, please do, in anyway you can. Due to the current events, they probably need it.

Hopefully I can post this soon.

[backtothefanfiction]

Done| tasm!peter imagine

Warnings: angsty, fighting, break up

A/N: it’s been a little moment, I need to give my boy some love but I also just feel angsty so….

“PETER, LOOK AT ME!” You screamed at him from the kitchen doorway.

You’d been arguing for the last 10 minutes. You wish you could say this was something new, but this fight had been going on ever since you first met. Peter was in love with you, has always been in love with you, but would rather punish himself than go through what he did with Gwen again. But he could never stay away. He always came running back. Crawling back down into that web that he carefully constructed and built just to trap you and keep you there. But every time that web shook just a little, he’d get cold feet. Instead of staying and facing what came head on or fixing the string that broke, he runs, only to realise he can’t let you go- he needs you. And so he always comes back.

Tonight- tonight was a running night… and you’ve had enough.

He can’t look at you, won’t look at you because he knows he will break.

“I can’t do this again.” You say as you sigh, your hands rubbing away the tears streaking down your face as you turn into the kitchen. “I can’t,” you repeat, more for yourself to keep your conviction than for his benefit. “I can’t.”

You turn and notice the fresh flowers you’d put in a vase not 2 hours ago when he turned up for dinner. You saw them for what they truly were now, apology flowers. You didn’t want them. Before you could fully process the action you had picked up the glass, stormed back into the doorway between the kitchen and living room and thrown them at the wall, just above his head. His head swerved to the side out the way, but still he didn’t get up, he didn’t look at you, he didn’t say anything. He knew there was nothing he could say to make this any better and knew you just needed to get things out of your system.

“We’re done, Peter, okay? We’re done.” You reiterated as you picked up your keys off the counter and started making your way to the front door, you really needed some air before you burnt down the whole apartment with your rage. “Pack up all your shit. I want you gone by the time I come back.” You said, putting on your coat. “And leave your key on the coffee table.”

He just nodded. No final words, no more excuses or apologies. No goodbye. Just a nod of acknowledgment. Is that all you had become- is that all you would be the next time you ran into him.

You’d slammed the door and taken 5 steps down the hall when you froze. No- you realised. You weren’t done. But this fight was.

When you walked back into the apartment Peter was picking up the flowers off of the floor. He places the bunch down onto the coffee table and stuffs his hands into his pockets as you slowly walk towards him.

“I thought you said you were done.”

“I’m not done.” You say quietly, “but this, this is done.” You say to him. “This argument, is done. Peter I’m not Gwen. If I see you swinging towards danger, first thing I do is start running the other way. Why do you keep coming back?” You ask him. You’ve gone so soft, like talking to a toddler. He wants a fight, it’s easier if he has the fight. Then you can paint him as the bad guy and walk away. He can continue to punish himself for something that was never his fault, it was hers. And for him to keep taking that out on you, his anger, his grief, it was wrong. To keep taking it out on himself. It’s wrong.

He’s silent, so you continue, “I’m not your punching bag Peter, I’m your girlfriend- and I have been for 3 years now, whether you like to acknowledge that or not. Peter, look at me,” you ask again, reaching out for him, your hands wrapping around his wrists and pulling his hands from his pockets. “Peter, touch me.” You say softly, guiding his hands to your body. It’s a slow process, but he slowly moves them to the tops of your arms, finally finding a home on your cheeks when he finally looks at you. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere… and we both know neither are you…. This fight is done now. It’s time to move on. It’s time to let her go.”

You watch as his eyes soften, his own fight leaving him because he knows you’re right.

“You’ll never overcome fear of you keep running away.” You remind him. “You’re Spider-Man…” you say, leaving the sentence open for him to finish.

“And Spider-Man never runs away.” He concedes.

“Tell me it’s done. Tell me this fight is done.” You say one last time.

You feel his whole body sigh as he finally concedes, released that control, that power and just begins to float, to survive. “It’s done.” He agrees.

His arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your head as he holds you tight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I know.” You coo. “I know.”

[rahuratna]

He's got the look

Part 1: Hitting like a Hammer

Content: crack, humour, fluff. Gojo being ... Gojo.

Satoru yawned as he bent at the waist, the top of his head coming into view in the bathroom mirror. He had always been one of those people. The ones who  could wake up every morning, looking what some would call 'deliciously disshevelled'. Stray strands of silver fell forward softly over his forehead, the pure, crystalline eyes blinking slowly as he took himself in.

Satoru was fully aware of how attractive he appeared to others, physically speaking. While he didn't place much store by it, he did like looking his best, even if it was largely concealed under the blindfold. Eyes roving over the rippling muscle of his torso with a kind of satisfied disinterest, he sighed and was about to reach for his toothbrush, when something on his head caught his attention.

Were those ... split ends? And why was his hair looking distinctly duller in hue than normal? Considering his cursed technique, Satoru was seldom affected by environmental conditions. Winter was coming? No problem. It was particularly humid out that day? He'd still stroll along, unaffected, while people wilted around him like soggy paper towels. It was raining? Hello, built-in umbrella.

So, if there was an issue with his hair, it must be internal. Was he not getting enough of the necessary vitamins in his diet? Was all the sugar finally catching up with him? Unthinkable.

Still, something had to be done.

Contrary to how things seemed to others, Satoru worked exceptionally hard in his role as a sorcerer. Difficult missions didn't take quite so much time and effort when you were the self-proclaimed strongest. Thus, there was not much time to spoil himself.

Today, however, was a very rare, relaxed Sunday. He'd have to take action. There was only one person he trusted with his hair. Retrieving his phone from the counter, Gojo typed in a quick message and hummed slightly, applying moisturizer to his face as he waited for a reply.

"How? How can this be?"

"Er ... Gojo-sensei?"

"Yuuji! This is a disaster!"

"Whoa, whoa. What is?"

"My hair stylist! He's injured his back and won't be back for six whole months. What will I do? How will I survive? Am I supposed to rid the world of curses while my hair looks like this?"

"Uh ... yeah?"

"Wrong answer!"

Yuuji raised his hands, laughing slightly at the stricken expression of his teacher.

"Okay, okay. Hey, here's an idea. You know who has really nice hair?"

"Who?"

"Nanamin! His hair is always nicely cut and ... shiny? Maybe ask him who he goes to."

Satoru huffed.

"If I wanted a seven three parting and a cut so severe I'd look like I was about to serve fifteen years in the gulags, I'd go see his barber."

In his apartment in the city, relaxing in the living room with a cup of coffee in hand, Nanami sneezed violently. Unaware of this distant repercussion, Satoru was tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"There is a replacement in for my stylist, though. They said he was young, but talented."

"Oh? Why don't we go check it out then? If your previous stylist trusted him enough to take over, then he must be good, right? We can see him in action and you can decide if you trust him enough to do your hair!"

"Hmm. All right. I'll go for it, Yuuji!"

Now in a decidedly better mood, Satoru mimed finger guns at his student.

"Let's hoof it."

The hair studio was located in Harajuku, a twenty minute walk from where they exited the subway. The trendy boutiques that lined the street caught Yuuji's eye, and he knew that Nobara would have loved to have come here.

When they reached the studio, both teacher and student paused, taking in the shop front.

"Uhhh, was that always ... "

"Nope. This is new."

" ... Gojo-sensei, maybe we should just call Nanamin and - "

"Now, now, Yuuji. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Something Nanami has probably never said in his life."

"Hey! That's not very -"

Somewhere, in a neat cafe, Nanami burnt his tongue on his third cup of coffee for the day and uttered a soft 'fuck', before looking around to see if anyone had heard him.

Before Yuuji had a chance to defend the honour of his other mentor, Gojo had pushed open the door to the salon, whistling merrily. Pausing outside, Yuuji swallowed as a sensation of impending doom threatened to overtake him.

The facade that had been erected over the entryway was of a large and garish tornado, shaped into a classic pompadour, neon geometric shapes superimposed over it in what was clearly meant to be 'arty'. It reminded Yuuji of the anime he had been following religiously as a kid, Bobo's Bazaar Adventure. While he loved the show, he wasn't sure how effective it was in inspiring confidence as a hair studio. Shrugging slightly, he followed Gojo.

The interior was no less psychedelic. Assistants wearing bright pink rollerblades, clip-on angel wings and yellow overalls flew here and there, sweeping up fallen hair and delivering hot drinks while barely avoiding calamity. Hair stylists in chequered aprons snipped away at a frenetic pace, creating some of the most avant garde hairstyles Yuuji had ever seen. His eye was caught by a young woman with a purple up-do being shaped into a top hat and nearly collided with Gojo.

The moment Gojo entered, all eyes were drawn to him, of course. Today, the special grade sorcerer was wearing casual clothes, a dark jacket over a white t-shirt that clung to his very toned abdomen, fitted jeans in black that made his legs look like they'd been airbrushed in real life, and a pair of horrifically expensive sneakers. Gojo cheerfully saluted, tapping the side of his sunglasses that had probably cost more than Yuuji's entire education.

"Yo! I'm Gojo, Maurice's usual customer. I was told to come in today to see Hattori?"

The new receptionist dragged her eyes away from Gojo's pectorals with an audible gulp and hurriedly turned to her computer, her fingernails clacking swiftly over the keys as a burning crimson blush arced over her nose.

"J - Just a moment, sir. Er, ah, yes. Gojo Satoru, correct?"

"That's me!"

"He'll be right with you. Let me call him. I think he's just finished with a client."

Gojo surveyed the studio with interest from behind his shades.

"So he doesn't work out here on the floor?"

"Oh, no. He has a private room upstairs where his personal clients see him. Give me a moment."

She lifted a hot pink receiver and spoke in hushed tones into it. After a few minutes of waiting, she waved to the stairway behind her.

"Go on up. He's ready for you."

The room they entered was obviously supposed to be some sort of den of intense creativity. The matte grey walls were covered with modern art pieces in neon shades, humanoid figures distinguishable in the sinuous, branching tracks of colour. A giant window, forming a one-way looking glass, took up most of the outer wall, showcasing a stunning vista of the city below.

A single styling station, the mirror, chair and stands for various paraphernalia, stood alone and stark in the centre of the room, surrounded by the large fanning leaves of tropical plants. Flowers that Yuuji had never seen before provided bursts of colour where they hung from the ceiling in coconut mesh.

There was a woman, presumably the previous client, who was sitting before the mirror. Yuuji stared. Her hair was coiffed and curled in some kind of artistic representation of a rose, the layers tinted in colours ranging from dark crimson to the finest blush of the sky at dawn, creating a depth and dimensionality that anyone would be hard put to find in a painting, let alone on someone's hair.

The man standing behind her flitted about like a hummingbird at a flower, his slightly high-pitched voice rising and falling as he spoke a litany of encouragement to himself. Upon their entry, he hadn't even turned his head.

Gojo seemed content to stand and wait, so Yuuji cleared his throat slightly. Immediately, the stylist (who must be Hattori) froze and turned, a slightly crazed expression on his narrow, pinched features. Yuuji recoiled, but when Hattori's eyes moved across to Gojo, the change in the atmosphere of the room was palpable.

The stylist threw his scissors to one side, eyes opening wide, expression even more manic than before. The client who had been seated before him had to duck as the blades passed dangerously close to her face. Coming forward in a zig zag, as if pausing at different angles to take in Gojo completely, the man approached.

Close up, Yuuji could see that he didn't look in the best of health. His skin was dry and his lips cracked, the lines standing out at the corners of his eyes, even though he probably wasn't more than a few years older than Gojo. His bleached blonde hair bore the brittle look of many dye-jobs, and his fingernails were stained. He bore a striking contrast to the image projected in the rest of the studio.

Nevertheless, he was looking at Gojo like he was the Mona Lisa come to life. The lady seated at the mirror cleared her throat.

"Thank you Hattori, I'm - "

"Yes, yes, you're done now."

"Well, I just - "

"Speak to the front desk for the care routine." He dismissed her with a wave of his hand that left her gaping. "Now, who, who, who do we have here?"

"Gojo Satoru. I hear you've taken over from Maurice. I was a client of his for many years."

"Ahhh. Maurice, my dear mentor. Such a tragedy about his back injury. Can't even stay upright for longer than five minutes. Now, on to more important things, namely, you."

Hattori had now sidled right up to Gojo, his manic expression never toning down in intensity. The sorcerer in turn, regarded him with his usual good natured condescension. The woman with rose-like hair was now scurrying out of the room, scandalized. Yuuji watched her leave nervously. He didn't like being in this room. Everything just seemed weird and wrong.

"But ... I have to say... Maurice certainly kept you a closely guarded secret. Gojo, you say? No. No, I've never heard him speak that name. But look at you! You're... just ... a ... I have no words. Look at this shade of hair! Look at your jawline! Your facial structure! Superb. Superb. A true muse. Yes. A ... oh, this is .... wait. I must ... inspiration  has struck!"

Scurrying over to the styling stand, Hattori withdrew a notebook and pencil from the drawer, flipping open the book and beginning to sketch as if his life depended on it, his hair standing slightly on end, as if it had a consciousness of its own. Gojo raised his hand.

"Can't I just request my usual? Maurice always - "

"Usual? Usual?"

Hattori almost dropped the book in his hand.

"Dearest Gojo, please, never, never use the word 'usual' to refer to anything regarding yourself again!"

Gojo rubbed the back of his head and grinned.

"I mean, yeah, I know I'm exceptional, but - "

"Not just exceptional!" There were tiny, red capillaries standing out in the whites of Hattori's eyes now. Yuuji crept a little closer to Gojo.

"No, exceptional is too bland a word. I can't believe that Maurice kept you from me."

Yuuji could think of several reasons.

"Now let's see. Yes, yes, that would be - come and have a seat! I'll get started!"

"But I haven't told you - "

"Forget everything you know! I am Hattori, and I am inspired by a muse above all others ... you! Gojo Satoru! I will do with your hair what nobody has ever attempted before!"

Yuuji cleared his throat, speaking loud enough for only Gojo to hear.

"Uh, sensei ... "

"I know. Relax, Yuuji. I'll handle this."

Gojo pulled out his phone and typed a quick message, before sauntering over to the styling station.

"All right then, Hattori. I place myself in your capable hands."

Hattori chose, at that moment, to finally glance over in Yuuji's direction. He froze, eyes opening to dimensions that defied the basics of human anatomy.

"Wait. What ... what is that?"

Gojo looked over, confused.

"Oh, that's my student. Itadori - "

"No! That! The colour!"

Hattori was positively shrieking by now, and Yuuji laughed nervously, backing away.

"Uh, are you talking about my hair colour?"

"Yes! What kind of... of ... monstrosity is this? Salmon pink? In that single shade? No highlights? What were you thinking, boy?"

"What do you mean? This is my natural colour?"

Hattori laughed, tears of rather demented mirth gathering at the corners of his eyes.

"Natural? What are you? Some kind of anime character?"

Gojo sighed.

"Oi, oi, oi. I'll trouble you not to pick on my precious student. What's he got to do with my hair anyway? Isn't that what we're here for?"

"He needs to go! He's going to taint the whole process with his presence!"

Gojo's cheerful demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. His smile disappeared and in its place was a kind of terrifying calm that made the room grow slightly colder. Hattori looked over at him and quailed.

"Uh, but if, as you say, he is your student, then I can ... make an exception for a favoured client such as yourself."

As the stylist scurried over to Gojo, Yuuji let out a soft breath as he mentally confirmed his suspicions. Unlike a regular person, Hattori had only reacted to Gojo's ire when there had been a change in his cursed energy signature. Hattori was certainly aware that Gojo was a sorcerer. And the hair stylist himself... was not all he seemed on the surface.

Certainly, there was no immediate danger to someone as powerful as Gojo. But Hattori looked unhinged enough to try almost anything. Yuuji kept his eyes on the erratic movements of the man as he darted here and there around Gojo, hands reaching out like the darting tendrils of a sea anemone as he touched and caressed Gojo's hair.

Creepy.

But Yuuji would have his sensei's back, even if his own strength was not needed.

As if sensing his serious mood, Gojo glanced over at him while Hattori whipped out a black bib and tied it around the sorcerer's neck with a flourish.

"Hey Yuuji, why the long face? I guess I'll have an exciting style soon. Something Nanami's never had in his life."

"Oh come on, sensei, you don't know that."

"I do. He was my underclassmen, remember?"

"Well ... what if he had something exciting while he was a salaryman?"

There was silence in the room for a while. Yuuji sighed.

"Okay. You win this one."

Nanami kept his eyes on the woman with rose-coloured hair, following her from a discreet distance. His plain jeans and sweater were helping him blend seamlessly into the crowd, along with the newspaper clutched in his hand and the fifth cup of coffee for the day. He really needed to cut back.

He was a little grumpy, to be honest. Here he was, enjoying his peaceful day at a cafe, when Gojo had messaged, asking him to investigate possible curse activity related to a woman with distinct rose-styled hair, somewhere near a salon in Harajuku. Nanami had hurried to the predicted co-ordinates and managed to spot the woman in question right before she boarded the subway.

It wasn't hard to determine who Gojo had been talking about. Besides the ... really spectacular hairstyle she sported, there was a horrific amount of cursed energy whirling about her frame, concentrated around her hair.

Nanami suddenly felt that same unbearable itch in his nose from earlier in the day and sneezed heavily, whipping out his handkerchief.

Why did this keep happening? Was he coming down with something? 

[callme-holly]

Sorry if this doesn’t make sense - I just have a great feeling about this since your dating Dallas Winston headcanons were amazing and, I feel, very true to his character. GENERAL DALLAS WINSTON HEADCANONS 🗣️🗣️‼️💥🔥 As in what are things you think he’d like, habits he’d have, things he can and can’t do? Is he lactose intolerant? Does he have a secret affinity for dirt bikes?

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - i got a little carried away with these and they are so random but it is what it is! not proof read!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 474 words

Believe it or not, he knows how to fix up cars. it had been something he'd picked up during his time in new york but is never something he'll bring up in conversation.

He won't go to bed until the early hours of the morning. does he get enough sleep? probably not, but he couldn't care less.

I also feel that part of the reason he puts off going to sleep as long as possible is because he suffers with nightmares. This boy had been through a lot and, as much as he pretends they don't affect him, some nights they really mess with his head.

He uses sarcasm and wit as a sort of defence mechanism, refusing to let anyone break down the walls he’s built up around himself.

I think, despite his tough exterior, he’s probably got a lot of emotional insecurities and fears. His childhood wasn’t perfect and he’s most likely got a lot of trauma he keeps hidden and unspoken about.

He views the gang as family and is fiercely loyal to them. Despite how much they can get on his nerves, he couldn’t imagine doing things without them.

Speaking of family... I have a feeling that Mrs. Curtis was more of a mom to Dallas than his own had ever been. She cared about him and when he heard about her death he was devastated and very lost.

When it comes to habits, I think he has quite a few that he will do without really noticing.

For example, he has a habit of drumming his fingers on surfaces or tapping his feet when he’s restless or impatient. I feel like he’s also a major nail biter and will pick at the skin on his hands until he starts bleeding. It’s not something he does on purpose, he just can’t help it.

He hates cats and I feel like he’s probably allergic to them.

I have this scenario in my head that once Johnny befriended a stray cat at the lot and when he introduced the creature to Dallas, the greaser could not stop sneezing.

Also, he’d never admit it, but they kind of scare him. When he was young, a cat scratched his hand and ever since then, he’s made a conscious effort not to go near one.

Dogs, however… He strikes me as the kind of person who loves dogs and dogs love him. If he sees one outside of a store, he will stop and pet it, no exceptions.

One time, Two-bit teased him for it and earned a pretty swift punch to the jaw.

He secretly loves old movies and makes it his sole purpose to go and see every single movie that previews down at the drive-in.

For the life of him, Dallas can’t cook.

One night he snuck into the Curtis' house and almost burnt it down trying to cook pasta.

Safe to say, he received a very firm lecture from Darry and is no longer allowed anywhere near a stove….

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[howtotwirlaknife22]

Mother

David “Hesh” Walker x Fem!Reader

Summary: you and Hesh have been living together for a little while now, and you recently found something out that will change the dynamic between the two of you, forever.

Warnings ⚠️: pregnancy, reader has some mood swings, intimate themes

A/N: happy belated Mother’s Day out there to current mothers, your own mothers, mothers to be, step mothers, or any mother figure really! I hope ya’ll like this cute little one shot I did for Hesh, let me know if you want more!

For the last few months, you and husband Hesh had been living together in your new house just outside of San Diego. Things had finally seemed to start getting back to some form of normalcy after the federation had been successfully defeated. When the news broke that the United States had come out on top, everyone was ecstatic. Including Hesh. So much so, that the second he and his team had returned home from a mission successful, he popped the question to you. You couldn’t contain the joy you felt in that moment. You had a small wedding ceremony, with his team and some of your family and friends attending. It was a cozy wedding, and you were happy Hesh’s team could be there for him. Losing his father was hard on him, and not to mention his brother going MIA for a while as well. But they eventually found Logan, though he was in a hostile state after being tormented by the feds. But they were able to get him back to his old self after a few good months of therapy. You were happy to hear this, and you were happy you were able to see Logan at your wedding, acting as Hesh’s best man. Shortly after you were married, you had bought a house together. It was one of the newer houses in the outskirts of San Diego that had been built after the federation collapsed, and Hesh’s military connection definitely came in handy when it came to obtaining it. You and Hesh had so much fun going to different department stores in the main city choosing out different furniture and kitchen equipment, and you both loved to play house with one another in the fake housing set ups. Once the two of you had gotten fully moved in, you were ready to finally start your sweet little life together as husband and wife. Once you both adjusted to each others schedules in your day to day lives, you had finally found time to hang out with one another for casual date nights. And when you just wanted to spend time at home, you often times cuddled on the couch together and watched a movie, played video games, and sometimes you even cooked a fancy meal together and laughed when one of you burnt it or added to much flour, often times resulting in ordering take out for the night. But your all time favorite thing was the alone time you two had. The intimate and deliciously passionate bedroom activities you enjoyed together. You two tried to make time for each others needs, and you couldn’t remember a day since you had been married that you hadn’t explored one another’s bodies in some form. But lately, Hesh had gotten a little more tied up back on base with his new promotion, and you had been a little more lonesome at the house than usual. You usually wouldn’t mind, and you didn’t the first few times he came home late, but this time felt different. You felt…anxious. You had always considered yourself strong and independent and you didn’t feel like you needed a man there to support you. But this night in particular made you feel uneasy. You couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong. It was starting to get closer to around midnight by the time Hesh stepped through the door, and you were still wide awake sitting on the couch once he came inside.

“Babe?” He questioned, shocked that you were still up. “What are you still doing up? I told you you don’t have to wait up for me.” He placed his coat on the coat rack and his keys on their hook. You stared at him for a moment. For some reason, that sentence was off to you. It rubbed you the wrong way. You couldn’t shake off the feeling of pure annoyance. took a deep breath, and finally you blurted out

“are you cheating on me!?”

Hesh was shocked. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. You were always so calm and collected, and you knew he had been working later hours as he had been adjusting to filling out new reports. With raised eyebrows, he placed a hand up in defense.

“Whoa, where the hell did that come from?”

You lip curled a little and you muttered.

“Yes or no…”

Hesh furrowed his brows and crossed his arms.

“No. God no. Babe, Where the hell would you even pull an idea like that from? You know I’ve been stuck on base since I ranked up.” His tone shifted into a slightly softer one towards the end of his sentence, and he slowly began to take a few steps towards you on the couch. You felt your curled lip begin to quiver, and in a few seconds you went from a sneer to tears fully streaming down your face as you began to sob into your hands. Hesh was disturbed to say the least. He had never seen you this distraught in the 5 years he had been with you. You looked up at him once he sat beside you, choking out an apology through sobs.

“I-I’m sorry…I..I don’t know what’s wrong with me…I just…I’m so worried that you..that you’re…y’know…I’m worried you don’t like me anymore..” you didn’t even know what you were saying. None of it was truly what you meant, but it felt right to say it anyways. So you kept on rambling. “I’m just worried you find me gross…I’m worried you’re gonna ditch me for someone who’s prettier and smarter than I am…I’m..I’m worried you’re bored of me!” You sobbed and curled into him as he slowly sat down beside you, curling an arm around your shoulder to comfort you. Hesh tried to shush you and rub your back as you cried into his chest, but it was no use. You were sobbing uncontrollably in his arms and the only thing he could do was hold you.

“Babe…are you feeling okay? This isn’t really like you..” he tilted your chin up and was heartbroken to stare into your red and teary eyes. You sniffled and glanced up at him.

“I…I don’t know…I just..fuck..” you pushed yourself off of him and wiped your tears off on you sleeve. “I…I think I’m gonna go to bed…goodnight.” With that, you huffed and promptly turned on your heels heading straight for bed, leaving Hesh alone and confused in the living room.

“What the fuck was that?” He questioned, sighing heavily.

A few days had passed after that incident, and you had continued to grow more and more irritated with Hesh. Whether that was a dish left in the sink for too long, or the toilet seat getting left up once or twice a day, or even the trash getting taken out an hour later than usual. Everything he did seemed to annoy you. And you couldn’t prevent the little outbursts you would have on him, no matter how hard you tried to look past those petty little incidents. These often ended with you crying and locking yourself away in your shared bedroom for hours at a time, and Hesh had begun to grow irritated with these outbursts as well. It all came to a head one day when Hesh had to leave for work earlier than usual one day, and you had been greeted in with facial hair scattered all around your bathroom sink, most likely from him rushing to get ready for work that day. You gritted your teeth and began to type out an angry text, your fingers dancing across the screen at a million miles an hour. Just before you were able to hit send, you felt a sudden wave of nausea wash over your body. You paused, clutching your stomach. Maybe you had just eaten some bad chicken the night prior? After all, you had meant to throw it out a few nights ago. You felt another wave of nausea, this one stronger than the last. You groaned and slowly slid down to the floor, setting your phone to the side. You blinked a few times and whimpered as you felt your stomach turn. You could feel the aching feeling you get when you’re about to vomit creeping up on you. You slowly made your way to the toilet and lifted the seat, feeling your mouth begin to fill with saliva. You whimpered again, this time spitting into the toilet as the Silva became too much. You felt your stomach begin to bubble up, before you felt the rush of vomit coming up your esophagus. You coughed, spitting up the remains of the foul bile into the toilet. It took a few minutes for your vision to return to normal again, and you stared into the toilet before you had the slow realization as to why your mood had been so shitty for the past few days. You gulped and opened your phone, the unsent text staring back at you. You felt guilty and embarrassed and quickly deleted it. But you switched contacts over to your best friend, who you swiftly texted a few words to.

Can you please buy me some pregnancy tests?

You sat on the toilet, holding the plastic stick that you had just urinated on in front of you. You stared back at it as you waited for a few agonizing minutes for the final results. Your friend was outside the bathroom door for moral support, calling out to you.

“Any results?” You sighed.

“Not yet…two more minutes.” You had a timer set on your phone as the seconds counted down. You gulped, hoping that the mood swings could be explained because you were about to get your period instead. You and Hesh had discussed having children a few times, but neither of you really thought it was necessary in the near future. And you weren’t sure how Hesh would even react to the news, especially given his new position. You were quickly ripped from your thoughts as your timer went off, and your eyes snapped from your phone to the test. You thought you were going crazy. You blinked a few times and shook your head before you stared at the test as hard as you could. Two lines. Two blue lines staring back at you. You couldn’t believe it. You were ripped out of your thoughts when you heard a loud knock on the door.

“Hey! You good? What does it say?” Your friend called out from the other side, a hint of worry tinged in her voice. You opened your mouth to speak but no words came out. Your friend knocked again. “Y/N? You okay?” You swallowed hard and stuttered out.

“I…I’m okay..” you sat up from the toilet and flushed it, washing your hands quickly and opening the door. You were staring down at the test before you held it up, showing her the plastic stick. Her eyes widened and she stared back at you with her mouth agape.

“Are…are we celebrating?” She asked quietly, her tone unsure. You didn’t even know. You were unsure yourself.

“I…maybe?” You felt tears begin to well in your eyes. “I…I gotta talk to Hesh once he gets back. Fuck…this would explain why I’ve been so mean. But..damn. Shit..he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve any of it!” You began to sob into your hands as your friend rubbed your back gently.

“Hey hey, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s gonna understand. But…that does mean you’re gonna have to tell him soon.” She pulled your hair back and tied it into a loose ponytail. You let out a shaky sigh and looked up at her.

“You’re right…I just…I don’t know how to break it to him.” You friend gave you a sympathetic look and you knew this would be some of the hardest news you’d ever have to break to anyone. You weren’t 100% sure how he’d react, but you knew you had to tell him.

You had been avoiding him for the past few days after you found out. But you didn’t really have to, as he had been giving you the silent treatment for the past few days anyways. Your most recent outburst didn’t help you out much in that field, and you were trying to figure out a good way to bring it up to him. Trying to find the right time was the current issue. Things had been so tense since your hormones had started to go crazy, and you were so anxious that you had ruined a core piece of your relationship permanently because of them. It was a Saturday night, and Hesh had been home from work all day. He had barricaded himself in his office all day, and you stayed in bed for most of the day, trying to work your way around your newfound nausea battles. It had been in and out of the bathroom since 5 that morning, and it was currently nearing 7. You groaned and decided that it was a good time to shower and go to bed. You inhaled sharply and decided that you would at least try talking to Hesh first. You knocked on his office door and slowly opened the door, peeking your head around as you slid it open.

“Babe?” You called out quietly. Hesh was sitting at his desk, typing away at something on his computer before he grunted out, not even turning towards you.

“You’re supposed to wait for me to say ‘come in’ before you come in y’know.” He responded coldly, continuing to type away on his keyboard. You felt your lip quiver. You knew you had been mean the last few weeks, but you didn’t realize you had been so mean that he was giving you the cold shoulder.

“Sorry..I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” You mumbled, turning on your heel and slowly closing the door behind you. You felt tears begin to prickle in your eyes as you walked through your hallway to your bedroom. You could hear a quiet but defeated sigh come from the office, and you wiped your tears as you gathered some comfortable pajamas from your dresser drawer. You opened the door to your bathroom and entered, turning the shower on as you got things set up for your nighttime routine. You stripped yourself down and entered the shower, the warm water washing away some of the tension in your aching muscles. You inhaled as the steam rose, and you hummed quietly. You placed your hands on your stomach and rubbed it gently. You had your first appointment with the doctors on Monday, and you knew you had to tell Hesh soon. You wanted him to be there with you at the first appointment, but you still had to make sure he was on board with the whole thing. Not to mention patching up the last few weeks of hostility. You shook your head and rinsed yourself off, stepping out of the shower to dry yourself off and slip into your comfortable clothes for the night.

The time was now 11:30, and you were still awake in bed. You knew you should sleep, you hadn’t gotten a good full night the past few days due to morning sickness, but your body just wouldn’t let you sleep. You tossed and turned and eventually gave up, resting on your side and staring out of your window, looking up into the night sky as the moon shone through your open blinds. You heard your bedroom door creek open, and you heard footsteps approaching your bed. You didn’t turn over, but you were happy to hear your husband coming to bed. You had been going to bed before he did or after he did the last few days, so this would be the first time you’ve gone together for a bit. You didn’t say anything and instead kept looking up at the moon until you felt the opposite side of the bed dip, and you slowly turned your head towards him as he crawled under the covers next to you. Hesh noticed your head turn and he raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“What are you still doing up? I thought you went to bed almost 4 hours ago.” He mumbled, pulling the covers up towards him. You exhaled through your nose and muttered out.

“I couldn’t sleep…I just..I couldn’t.” Your eyes wandered over his form until they met with his eyes. His hardened gaze softened a little as he scanned your swollen red eyes and puffy cheeks.

“Were you crying?” He reached his hands up and cupped your cheeks, rubbing his thumb over the apple of your cheek. Your lip began to tremble once again and you gave a small nod, avoiding his gaze as tears welled again. He bit the inside of his cheek and sighed. “I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole to you earlier. Or anytime the past few days really. It’s just..you’ve had a bit of an attitude lately and I don’t know what I did wrong. Did I do something wrong? Or did something happen that I don’t know about?” He questioned, continuing to stroke his thumb over your cheek. You bit your lip and slowly slid yourself up onto your knees, sitting over him. He slid up onto his elbows and cocked an eyebrow at you. You began to speak in a quiet voice.

“No…no you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m..I’m really sorry I’ve been so bitchy and mean lately..” you balled the blanket up in your fists as you sighed. “You didn’t deserve that…I’ve just..everything has been so out of wack lately..” you voice broke at the end of your sentence as the tears began to stream down your hot cheeks, and Hesh sat up fully and pulled you into a warm hug.

“Hey hey, it’s okay…don’t even worry about it, okay? I promise you I’m not mad..at least not anymore..and whatever is wrong, we’ll work through it together. Just tell me what’s up and we’ll figure it out, alright?” He pulled away and brushed some strands of hair out of your face. You looked up at him with a nervous gaze and opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. This went on for a few moments before Hesh furrowed his brows at you questioningly. “What?”

You couldn’t bare to keep it in any longer. And there was simply no time like the present.

“I’m…I’m pregnant.”

The both of you froze for a moment. Hesh’s eyes went wide and he stared right back at you with a blank expression. You stared back with a nervous one, and you waited for a while agonizing minute for him to respond.

“You’re..you’re pregnant?” Hesh whispered. You swallowed hard and nodded at him, whispering back.

“Yes..”

You were engulfed in a tight bear hug, and you could hear a choked out sob exit your husband’s mouth. Your eyes widened and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, hugging him back just as tightly. You could hear him sobbing quietly into your hair as you felt tears coming from your own eyes. Were these happy sobs you heard, you weren’t quite positive until Hesh pulled away, a small smile lining his tear stricken face.

“I’m gonna be a dad…and you’re gonna be a mom!” He exclaimed, sliding his hands from your shoulders down to your stomach. “How long have you known?” He looked up at you with a new shimmer in his vibrant green eyes. You smiled softly.

“Only a couple of days…I haven’t even had my first doctors appointment yet, but I took about 3 tests, and all came out positive.” You placed your hands over his on your stomach and you leaned in to kiss him gently. He kissed you back, this time with the same sweet passion that you had missed for the past few days. You hummed against his lips before you pulled away. “My first appointment is Monday.” You smiled as he beamed at you.

“I’m taking off of work then. I want to be there for your first appointment. And every other appointment from here on out.” He placed a hand on your cheek again, grinning from ear to ear. You bit your cheek as you searched his gaze shyly.

“So…you’re not upset? You want to have this baby with me?” He gave you a confused look and leaned in to give you another gentle hug, placing his hand on the back of your head.

“Upset? Baby, this is the best news I’ve heard all week, or that I’ll ever hear in my life even.” He pulled away from you and took your hands in his. “I’m so happy to have you in my life baby. I was already happy to call you my wife, but now you’re going to be the mother of my children as well.” You couldn’t help the happy tears that streamed down your face as you sniffled and smiled at his sweet words. “I love you so much baby…please, don’t ever forget that.” You squeezed his hands and looked up at him with glistening eyes.

“I love you too, Hesh.”

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