#that episode was all flavors of messed up

[kusakiguzen]

Yandere Haikyuu x Reader x Yandere Kuroko No Basketball

A/N: Hear me out.. What if reader was the twin sister of Tobio Kageyama? I mean neglected twin sister? If you wanna know, give it a read..

Imagine being the twin sister of a Vollyball prodigy, where your achivements were always overshadowed by his, all the parties were about him, celebrating him and most of all Loving him. Everything was about him, your twin, The perfect child, Kageyama Tobio. And there you were the imperfect one.

Growing up with him was nice, well until elementary, until he made his debute as a vollyball player, everything was perfect, no competition for anything. Everything was divided equally. But after Tobio started playing vollyball and everything became a competition, from love to celebrations.

Even though you both were born on the same day, there was now only one cake, vollyball themed, his favorite flavor, gifts for him. Nothing for you... When it started in 2nd grade, you just believed that your present must have been lost in the mail or the bakery messed up you cake, but as the years passed you realized the pattern. Never once did the bakery mess up Tobio's cake, or never once did his gifts get lost in the mail. As a last ditch effort to gain your grandfather's and older sister's attention, you started playing vollyball. Again at fist you got the attention you craved for, but again you fell behind and your family again started focusing on Tobio, ignoring you again.

The neglect got worse when you entered Junior High, and along with the neglect there was bullying too by an upperclassman who had it out for your twin, Oikawa Tooru. Even after he graduated, the bullying didn't stop, because "since Oikawa-senpai bullied you means you deserved it". It was hell for you, while your brother stayed blissfully unaware.

In the second year, your gandpa had passed so it was just you and your siblings, it didn't affect you as much as you thought it would. But for the other two, it was hard since they were close.

Then came the devestating news, Due to overworking yourself, it caused an injury, an injury that could criple you if you continued to play.

They weren't even at the hospital when you got this news. And this was the last straw for you. You did stop playing, not that you were truly able to enjoy it due to the constant expectation and pressure you faced to keep up with your brother. You may not have had talent for vollyball, but academically? you were on a level of your own. You had many unpublished Novels too but they needed to be edited and you were going to ask someone to read it before you were truly going to publish it.

You took scholarship exams for everywhere except Miyagi for high school, you need to get a fresh start, away from the people you knew. You did get a full academic scholarship to a school that recently opened in Tokyo, Seirin High School. You accepted it.

You decided to become a content creator, specifically a Gamer, to provide for yourself. You made an online friend in this chaos, while getting used to playing the video games, applepi.

He went to Nekoma High School in Tokyo and was happy to know that you would move to Tokyo for your education.

Your steams were doing great and now you had a good amount saved up.

You then decided it was time to tell your siblings or your departure. You called you sister and invited her for dinner. She agreed and talked about not seeing you and your brother in a while. You called Tobio and asked him to end practice early and join dinner that will be held the evening appoaching.

You prepared a variety of dishes, and some drinks too. When they both arrived and began eating, you broke the news.

You looked at them, waiting for a reaction. Your sister was stunned but you didn't expect your brother to stat yelling angrily. He looked like you told him it was you who killed their grandfather or something.

He was yelling things that could only be described as incohearent. After his episode, he started crying alot with fat tears and snot poring down.

It surprised you and you immediately went to comfort him, you were never able to hate him. I mean why would you? He was just doing what he loved, it was the adults fault for your neglect.

He took while to calm down but he kept repeating 'You can't leave me, Please.' You felt guilty but it was your future, and you knew if you stayed in Miyagi you won't be able to get out of the shell. You tried to reason with him but he didn't budge, acting like a toddler who refused to give up his toy.

Your sister intervened, stating that it would be expensive to live in a big city and it will probably be out of our budget since Tobio requires money for his equipment and camp trips that he would take in the future.

You reassured her money won't be a problem, since you got a scholarship, meaning you didn't need to pay a dime. The only catch was that you would need to join an after school club, more specifically a sports club. She asked about the living arrangements since your school does not provide dormetories. You told her that one of your friends had found you a cheap apartment near your school. (The said apartment was owned by Kenma, hence the cheap rent, but you don't need to know that) You also don't need to know that he has camera and bugs set up in that apartment

Tobio and Miwa (you older sister) were about to tell you it was a bad idea and Miwa was about going to refuse paying for it, but before they could say anything, you told them you already had a job and can pay for it yourselves.

They were stunned and Tobio started hugging you even tighter. You reassured him that you would visit and try to be at all his games but he just said,

"It won't be the same without you at school"

To which you do agree since you won't be there to tutor him and give him your notes. Your sister reluctantly agreed, and even if she didn't you were going to leave anyway so it didn't matter much.

You moving day was 1 week away and during that week Tobio refused to leave your side, still trying to get you to stay, even if he didn't say it, his body language gave the message clearly. He stated hiding your things, and when you found the things he looked like a lost puppy.

On the last day, Tobio gave you a gift.. A Bugged Phone. You thanked him but did enquire about how he got the money, he told you he had used his allowance since he never used it. You were happy that finally accepted your decision.(He didn't)

You moved about 2 weeks before school stats to get settled, You move in the apartment that your friend applepi, whose real name was Kozome Kenma was gracious help you find. He was also kind enough to show you around the city and major landmarks you needed to remembered. You soon got to know your neighbour who was also a student at the same high school as you, his name was Kagami Taiga.

He and you became friends quite quickly and he introduced to basketball.

And soon School started.

You joined the basketball club as a manger and found it fun since there was no expectations to out do anyone. You also became close to Taiga and his 'shadow' Kuroko Tetsuya. You still hung out with Kenma and streamed online with him on his or your channel, your identity was hidden and you went by an alias, Etsu. You were only called that online and other than Kenma no one knows about your identity.

You met Kenma's team, who were very shocked at Kenma having a friend other than them, much less a beauty like you.

You also met Tetsuya's former team mates who were called The Generation Of Miracle.

You talked to Tobio every night without fail or else he would bombard your phone and also said he would show up at your house if you didn't pick up his calls.(How though? you didn't tell tell him your address?)

You didn't realize it then but your friends were now acting strange.... They were overprotective and always watching you, and you don't know why?

Also your brother was also acting weirdly clingy...

He did introduce you to his friends when you went to visit him, he acted.. Different.

He also told you about people he would go against. One of them was Oikawa-senpai

He was especially clingy when you both accidently ran into Oikawa and Iwaizumi while returning from the cafe you wanted to try.

Wait now that you mention it, Oikawa-senpai and Iwaizumi-senpai were also acting odd, so friendly, as if they didn't make your life hell in Jr high.

What is up with everyone?

Why are they paying attention to you now?

Your new friend, sure it was fine..

But why you former senpai and his friends?

Its okay.. You can just ignore it since you don't live in Miyagi anymore...

But what's up with Kuroko's friends trying to one up each other in front of you? Maybe it's just how they are?

Maybe they just treat each others friends like this? Buying them gifts, telling them their horoscope and giving you your lucky item, giving them sweets?

Yeah they were probably like that to everyone right?

Right...?

No Ulterior motive...

Its not like you were someone special..

You were just plain Kageyama Y/N..

Everyone is so kind to you now...

I WONDER WHY

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

A/N: I'm preparing a part 2 as I post this lol. It was going to be like my Yandere one piece x reader one but I changed it last minute. Anyways the next part will be something special..<3

Masterlist

Stay Safe Healthy and Hydrated. ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

[markantonys]

i was like "maybe i should test out entering my late 20s baking era like everyone else i know is doing" and proceeded to make coconut macaroons that came out more disgusting than i ever could've imagined it was possible for a thing with those ingredients to be

[nightprompts]

&. 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧 (𝐞𝐩𝐬. 𝟏-𝟒) 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  dialogue  prompts  taken from episodes 1 - 4  of max's  the  penguin  (2024),  created  by  lauren  lefranc.  feel  free  to  edit  and  change  as  you  seem  fit.. )

❛ i see you've made yourself at home. ❜

❛ so this new deal you got going... maybe i can help. ❜

❛ you know what i like most about you? you are who you are. you couldn't change if you tried. ❜

❛ you got a girl? good looking guy like you... ❜

❛ can you imagine? to be remembered like that? revered? ❜

❛ you really think people’d make a float of your dumb face and march it down the street, chanting your goddamn name? ❜

❛ you messed with the wrong fucking guy on the wrong fucking night. ❜

❛ you’re gonna do everything i say. or else i’ll murder you and, uh... anyone you care about. ❜

❛ what do you think of this? it’s a little air freshener. aqua paradise. you smell it? ❜

❛ we used to go there every day in the summer. you know, we’d mix the flavors for a suicide. you ever mix the flavors? ❜

❛ i ain’t trying to get in your business, but... i need an alibi. ❜

❛ i asked for extra pickles, and they give me two? so what, a normal amount of pickles is one? makes no goddamn sense. ❜

❛ there’s a nice sunrise behind you. you should take a look. ❜

❛ i could help you with whatever it is. whatever you need, whatever it is, all right? ❜

❛ well, maybe it’d be useful, keeping you around. for now. ❜

❛ but if you step out of line just once, i swear to god, i’ll gut you like a fucking fish. do you understand? ❜

❛ all right, listen, if i don’t come out... nah, i’ll be fine. you’ll be fine. it’s gonna be fine. ❜

❛ you know, maybe you don’t like me. that’s fine. i’m an acquired taste. ❜

❛ i’ve been rehabilitated. ❜

❛ you’ve really moved up in the world, haven’t you? ❜

❛ are you nervous? i’d hate for you to feel nervous with me. ❜

❛ you know, people underestimate you, but not me. i’ve always known you were capable of more. ❜

❛ this city is meant to be yours, sweetheart. what are you gonna do to get it? ❜

❛ the world wasn’t built for guys like us. that’s why we gotta take whatever we decide is ours. ❜

❛ but i gotta know. no bullshit. can i count on you to pull through? ❜

❛ i know who you are. i know what you are. i don’t work with people whose loyalty is for sale. ❜

❛ i’m gonna run this goddamn city. and i want you in on it. ❜

❛ i'm not safe. i'm home. ❜

❛ very, very convenient that, all of a sudden, you’re on my side. ❜

❛ you are scrambling for whatever dignity you have left and you’re hoping i will save you. ❜

❛ rough night, detective? ❜

❛ i refuse to let these old fucking men push me aside again, like i’m nothing. so, i’m going to take from them now. ❜

❛ you in? ❜

❛ let's dance. ❜

❛ you act like wanting more is a bad thing, but, i mean, don’t you want a better life than this? ❜

❛ are we, uh, kinda... partners now? ❜

❛ i mean, you fucked up. huge. but you learned, right? ❜

❛ whaddaya think the new clothes are for? you’re my guy. can’t have you lookin’ like a schmuck. ❜

❛ and from now on, you want something, you ask for it. ❜

❛ how’s anyone supposed know your worth unless you tell ’em, huh? ❜

❛ man of the hour, i was just thinking about you... ❜

❛ you do anything stupid, i’ll sense it. ❜

❛ that’s why you’re here. you seem to know everybody’s business. so, now’s your time to shine. ❜

❛ you’ve got a good thing going here. i’m really happy for you. ❜

❛ i know you’re not right in the head. i mean, that’s pretty damn clear. but i’m not scared of you. ❜

❛ you think i’d come here empty-handed? come on, we both know that if i ever truly left you hanging, there'd be a bullet between my eyes. ❜

❛ i got a real opportunity for you here, but it’s kinda hard to focus with a gun pointed at my face. ❜

❛ you got fight in you. you gotta let it out. ❜

❛ you’re fun at a card game, or over drinks, i’ll give you that. but people don’t keep you around because they think you’re smart. and they sure as shit don’t trust you. ❜

❛ i wouldn’t ask you to do this if i didn’t know you could handle it. i believe in you, kid. ❜

❛ i can't tell who wants this move. me or you. ❜

❛ i want this for you. ❜

❛ what you did to me. was it worth it? did you get everything that you wanted? ❜

❛ you wanna go, what are you waiting for? fuckin’ go. ❜

❛ you coulda left whenever you wanted. but you chose to stay. how about you ask yourself why. ❜

❛ i fucked you over. that what you wanna hear? ❜

❛ i’m fuckin’ sorry for everything that’s happened to you. ❜

❛ you meant something to me. still do. ❜

❛ i don’t know where to go from here. i don’t know how to trust you. ❜

❛ you need a cigarette, take the edge off? ❜

❛ a lobotomy couldn’t take the edge off. ❜

❛ when the time comes, i want you to take my place. i want you to run this family... if that’s something that would interest you. ❜

❛ they know you're mine. they'll do as i say. ❜

❛ why would you do this now? picking away at old wounds... you know how it upsets me. ❜

❛ you still haven’t told me what you want for your birthday. ❜

❛ i don’t need your advice. i don’t care what you think. no one does. you are my driver. that is all you are. so stop talking and drive. ❜

❛ listen, i get that you’re angry, you know. but i was just doing my job, looking out for you. ❜

❛ i’m not gonna make it in a place like that. i’m gonna die in there. ❜

❛ it’s okay to be scared. i was scared at first, too, but it’s not so bad here. you get used to the noises. ❜

❛ a woman beat the shit out of me while everyone stood around and watched. so, yeah, i had an incident. ❜

❛ i don’t know how to convince you i’m sane when you’ve already made up your mind about me. ❜

❛ i told you i’m fucking innocent. ❜

❛ i’m gonna get you something to eat. if you wanna get cleaned up, there’s a towel and a change of clothes in the guest bath upstairs. ❜

❛ i trusted him... when everything in my body told me not to. i should have killed him when i had the chance. ❜

❛ you abandoned me. ❜

❛ i left because i had to. because i could. i know you didn’t have that choice, but I’m here now. ❜

❛ you don’t have to pretend with me. ❜

❛ i haven’t forgotten, you know? the way you looked at me. so curious. ❜

❛ what did it feel like? to get to watch a person unravel? and now, you’re numbing yourself as punishment. ❜

❛ they think i'm broken. i'm not broken. ❜

❛ i'm not the one who's sick. and neither are you. the world is. ❜

❛ for the first time, i have hope. ❜

❛ to new beginnings. cent’anni. ❜

[chunksworld]

Moth to a Flame

IVE Wonyoung x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N 1: Welcome to another episode of Chunk goes monkey brain. Credit goes to @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading

------------------------------

From: Vicky Jang

“She told me she just got on the plane, daddy. You know what to do.”

You should’ve known that she had something up her sleeve as soon as your girlfriend left for Japan. You should’ve known how opportunistic she is and yet you find yourself driving to her apartment as quickly as possible once again like you don’t already have a significant other that loves you very, very, very much. It should have raised red flags when you didn’t receive any messages from her the week leading up to your girlfriend’s departure. It was foolish from you to think that maybe, just maybe, she finally realized just how extremely messed up the situation is. You should’ve known better, you should be better. But it really doesn’t matter now because it was pathetic how quickly you dressed up as soon as you received that text from her. You couldn’t even wait until your girlfriend has completely left the country and you’re already dying to dick down her best friend out of all people. 

It’s infuriating how addicted you are to Jang Wonyoung. It’s infuriating how she can manipulate you. It’s infuriating how easily she can gaslight you. It’s infuriating how you are willingly giving in to all of it. And what makes all of the above worse is that she’s not even your girlfriend to begin with. No, she’s just your girlfriend’s beloved best friend that somehow crept her way into your life like some sort of parasite waiting for a vulnerable host. And you were vulnerable in more ways than one because it only took one session of drinking before she was able to seduce you and you’ve been falling prey constantly ever since. It didn’t help that you’ve already developed some sort of attraction with her that you tried so hard to hide deep inside you because of your “morals” but it’s almost disgusting to even bring out such a word at this point. Knock on the door in a specific pattern that only you two know and you’re met with a surprise that far exceeds your expectations.

“Wonyo—“

Only one foot inside and you already find your body meshed with hers, lips doing the same as you haphazardly close the door behind while you attempt to weather the storm that is Jang Wonyoung. It’s all too overwhelming and yet you should be familiar with it now; one second you find yourself engaging in an awkward dance in the middle of her spacious living room and then another finds you blindly crashing on top of her sofa (be careful not to land on her pillows again or she might actually kill you this time). An outsider might think that this is all just one giant mess but everything is carefully orchestrated; Wonyoung is one for establishing routines and sex is no different matter. Her slender fingers make quick work of your hoodie, hurling it god knows where and leaving you awkwardly in a white tank top that you wore in a rush. You hope she would look past it and she fortunately does, more so because it gives her an even better opportunity to ogle at your biceps than she usually would and such a sight turns her on immensely (though that’s something she won’t ever admit to you).

“Hmm. I’ve missed you so much, daddy.”

You hate it.

You hate how one word can bring the most primal and sinful desires out of you, the way she utters it with such conviction and vigor devolving you into a shell of your former self (which doesn’t say that much considering you’re so willingly giving in to what she wants). You hate how her perfume lures you every single time, notes of red berries and datura flowers driving you further and further into the edge of your sanity. You hate how those lips intoxicate you much faster than any alcoholic concoction could; their taste and texture rivaled by none—soft, plump, and with a hint of the peach-flavored lip balm she always uses. You hate how amazing her body feels against yours, tight, slim, curvy and oh-so-delectable in all of the right places. You hate how just one measly text from her brings you right into her apartment every single time. You hate how you always promise to yourself that this shouldn’t happen ever again and yet you find yourself itching to fuck her right at this very moment. You hate how easily you forget the fact that she’s not your girlfriend—or even worse, you hate the fact that she’s not your girlfriend.

“Wony, I told you not to say that.” It’s a feeble attempt in trying to look and sound intimidating when she already knows you too well—even better than your own girlfriend, unfortunately. It’s almost pathetic hearing her laugh in response, her teeth sinking into her bruised lower lips to prevent herself from destroying your ego even further though the sight just makes her that much tempting to your eyes. She knows how much power she holds over you, an irony considering her position in this power dynamic you two have going on; and yet it’s a position she’ll gladly relegate from if it means getting fucked until she can’t walk the following morning. But she’s too nice of a girl to push you to your limits and she doesn’t want her dick appointment to be ruined so she pulls you for another kiss to subdue your feigned anger. It’s embarrassing how quickly your anger is quelled the more she swirls her tongue around yours, the more amorous sounds that emit from those lips of hers, the lower her hand travels starting from your well-defined abs down to the raging tent forming on your gray sweatpants.

“Or what, daddy?” 

It’s downright poisonous, the way her eyes dare you to do something, anything and yet you’re like a deer in the headlights. Those damn alluring eyes. This isn’t anything out of the ordinary either, it’s common knowledge that you’re too much of a coward to actually confront her about the usage of that particular term of endearment (See, the truth is that you actually love the fuck out of being called “daddy”, but why boost her inflated ego even further by telling her? Keep acting like you hate it and she’ll continue to tease you for it). Thankfully, there’s still a small part of you that is completely aware of just how wrong all of this is—and this small remnant of humanity in you wants to inform her of such unjustness. To inform her that you have a girlfriend who you have a loving relationship with, that you should be in your shared apartment and FaceTiming her because she’s bored out of her mind in that hotel room, that all you should be worrying about right now is how to make sure her dog doesn’t leave a mess all over the place. Isn’t it your anniversary in a few weeks?

“I can’t.” Of course you can’t. It’s a “grass is green and the sky is blue” situation. Any response other than that would freeze hell over (not that you aren’t there already). Was it worth trying? Perhaps. But all it does is make Wonyoung even more impatient—and you should know out of all people just how incredibly difficult it is to deal with an extremely horny and needy princess. This brief moment of vulnerability enables her to flip your positions, straddling your lap. Groan as the underside of her shorts make contact with your clothed length and the sensation almost sends you into a frenzy. A proud smile paints her features—it’s another battle won for her and you didn’t even put up a fight. Maybe you should stop trying at this point, you’d rather paint her face with your cum anyways. That will surely look better on her than the loads of makeup she spends hundreds of dollars on.

“That’s what I thought. Now take these clothes off of me— and wait! Don’t rip them, okay? I’ll cut your dick off if I have to throw away another expensive top.”

“You’ll have nothing to fuck then. And if I recall, none of your toys can make you scream as loud as I do. I don’t think you want that to happen. Right, Miss Jang?” Checkmate.

“Hmph, shut up!”

Before either of you could retort, you sit up to meet her at face level. Take this moment to appreciate just how gorgeous she is, a face truly sculpted by the gods and made to be ruined. Starstruck couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when Yujin introduced her to you, it was like looking at a Michelangelo piece come to life. Except she’s actually real and you’re about to spend another night finding out just how perfect she is, no need to snoop around in a museum somewhere in Europe. Brush loose strands of her hair aside and grab her by the waist, pulling her into a kiss that is gentler and softer than the first two. It’s captivating, alluring, and addicting. It’s a feeling you don’t quite achieve even in your hottest sessions with your girlfriend and deep down, that’s probably what kills you the most. “You’re so gorgeous, Wony.” 

“Save the compliments for later, I want you to fuck me hard right now, daddy.” Before you could even do the honors, she’s already pulling her top over her head and you do the same to yours. Wonyoung moans as your lips latch on to her neck; kissing, licking, and biting as you give her hickeys but you’re careful not to leave any darker ones or you’ll be out of here in a flash. It’s so sinful the way she moans your name, and it fills you with elation knowing that you’re the only one out of eight billion people on this planet that is capable of such a feat. It sends more blood rushing to your groin and you can’t wait to just ruin her. Your hands aren’t idle however, roaming her smooth back as you search for the clasps of her lace bra before throwing it with the same force as she did with your hoodie.

She’s definitely not as big as Yujin but her breasts are perky, taut, and just the right size to fit in the palm of your hands. You’ve grown to love them over time and you wouldn’t have it any other way. They look perfect in your hands and even better once you have your lips wrapped around them. Trail your kisses down to her collarbones, continuing to leave marks while you fondle her tits. It only makes her moan louder and you bring your lips to hers to silence her—you two have already received a noise complaint and you don’t want her to get kicked out (it’s definitely not purely because you want to kiss her again). But it’s useless once you do end up sucking on her tits, careful not to overstimulate her while your tongue twists around her areolas and your lips latch on to the soft flesh.

You would gladly stay like this until the end of time but of course the night couldn’t end like this because before you knew it, she already had a firm grip on the waistband of your sweatpants. Regretfully lift your face off her tits and she gives you a look that could only scream “fuck me already.” And what Wonyoung wants, Wonyoung gets. She removes herself off your lap and pulls the obstructing fabric down in one swift motion, immediately exposing your fully-erect cock to the cold air of her apartment. She almost drools at the sight, but she doesn’t want you to boost your ego either so she could only cover her hand to prevent you from hearing any sounds of arousal. But it really doesn’t matter because at the end of this night, you’ll have her screaming for your dick as if her life depended on it.

“Commando? Seriously? And yet here you were acting like you didn’t want to do this?” She tries hard not to give any further reaction and yet, her eyes can only look at its size and girth in awe. The sheer attention she gives to it almost makes you want to pull up your sweatpants again because of how much precum is dribbling out due to arousal. Completely remove your sweatpants and it joins the scattered pieces of clothing in her living room. Now you’re completely naked; and as much as you don’t want to think about it, not even Yujin gets the privilege of seeing you in such a state regularly (go ahead, keep thinking about your girlfriend and that would make it two women you’ll disappoint tonight). Just focus on Wonyoung, you already made it all the way to this point so you might as well see through it.

Make her straddle your lap again, this time working on unbuttoning her shorts and taking off her matching lace panties that are absolutely drenched. You would tease her for this but given the mutual overflowing lust for each other, you decide to save that for a later time. Now both of you are fully naked and given how wet she is, it makes the task of sliding her down your length much easier. Though it doesn’t say much considering how tight she is, even tighter than Yujin, despite the handful of times you’ve had sex with her already. You almost groan in pain as her nails dig deep on the skin of your back while your cock digs deep inside her warm and suffocating pussy. She screams, the sound reverberating throughout her studio apartment and given how thin the walls are, you two are about to give her neighbors a show tonight.

“So fucking tight, Wony. So. Fucking. Tight.” You hiss and grit your teeth as you fill her more and more, stretching her out with every inch inserted inside her. It takes a few more seconds before you can finally impale her, your tip reaching her cervix and then completely pulling out—audible whines from Wonyoung as she grabs your cock from underneath and forces you back into her. She’s so damn needy. But you would be lying if you said you aren’t either because you grip her ass needily as you begin to stroke upwards, immediately sending shockwaves throughout her slim body as she falls slump on your chest. Her slick thankfully aids in helping you maneuver or you’ll have to use some lube (something you’ve only had to do when she asked to do anal once and you’ve been dying to try it again).

“God—ah—f-fuck, daddy. You’re stretching me out so well.” Hot and heavy breaths send goosebumps all over your body as she buries her face on the crook of your neck, completely pressing her warm body against yours (you actually wanted to kiss her again but you’d gladly feel every inch of her perfect body as an alternative) and god, does she feel so fucking amazing. The way her thighs crash against yours, the thunderous slapping of skin on skin mixing with the faint noise of the heater turning on in the background, her moans flowing directly into your ears—it’s all too much to handle and as much as you hate to admit it, the fact that she’s not even yours to begin with is what truly sends you spiraling into a world of bliss. You’ve already fucked up anyways, might as well indulge to the fullest before judgement day comes.

And indulge you do because soon enough, you’re moaning and groaning much like she does—only at a lower tone as if a conductor is telling you to harmonize with her. But eventually, it gets drowned out by the continuous slapping of your hips to her thighs, creating a vociferous squelching noise that only increases in volume and confirms just how wet and aroused she is. Look down and the juices flowing down her thighs adds further evidence as it stains your crotch with her precious honey as well—such a delectable treat shouldn’t be wasted and should be lapped up instead. Fortunately you have the weekend all to yourselves so you can eat her out all day tomorrow if you want.

“H-Heh. You’re really enjoying this aren’t you, daddy?” Wonyoung lifts up her face to look at you for the first time in a while and she looks so beautiful, breathtaking, and absolutely fucked. Tears have begun to well under her eyes and yet somehow her mascara is still intact, guess it was money well spent after all. “I bet Yujin unnie can’t fuck you this good, huh? I wonder what she would be saying right now once she finds out that her best friend loves getting dicked down by her man, hmm?” It should make you angry, it definitely has to make you angry. But every sexual encounter with her has stripped you of any sense of dignity and honor. And at this point, you don’t give a damn about anything else other than giving in to your desires.

“Shut the fuck up, Wony.” You have no response either, so you just grab on the sides of her face and pull her into another kiss. “Just shut the fuck up and take this dick like the cumslut you are.” Fuck it. You go back to the hickeys you’ve made earlier and turn them to an even darker shade of red, making it near impossible to hide the sinful events that took place tonight. No worries, it’s not like you two are planning to leave this house for the next two days anyways. You want to make sure that you’ve fucked her in every single corner and in every position manageable. You don’t see it but a smirk appeared on her face. She got you worked up again like she wanted and it caused you to be even more aggressive just like how she wanted. You really are just a moth to her flame, how pathetic.

“Of course, where else would I want your cum? Turn me into your breeding bunny, daddy.” A sultry whisper to your ear and it unlocks an even more primal side from you. Plant your feet on the couch and you begin to fuck her with reckless abandon like the wild animal you are. Wrap her long legs around your waist and lift yourselves off the couch, a position that almost makes your knees give out. But your leg muscles are there for a reason as you grab on the back of her thighs and pound her relentlessly. It’s raw, it’s hot, and it’s so fucking passionate. The way her sweaty body would lift high up in the air before gravity brings it right back to your cock, the way she clings on to you for dear life, the way she tries to kiss you despite it being an almost impossible task. The air grows increasingly hot signaling your impending orgasm.

“I-I can’t hold on much longer—ah, shit. I can’t hold on much longer, fuck.” Thank goodness her floor isn’t made out of carpet because her slick starts to seep out of her pussy with every deep thrust. Usually she would respond with a one-liner but she’s so deep into her own world of ecstasy that all she could do is cry and wail as your spearing length continues to drive home into her cervix. You can’t talk that much more either because the familiar, bubbling sensation in your stomach only grows with each thrust. And the way she clings on to you for dear life, screaming to the world how good your cock is only serves to expedite and intensify your eventual undoing. It only leads you closer to completely unraveling like she intends you to, like how you’re supposed to.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuckkk! I’m gonna fucking cum inside you, Wony. Gonna cum and fill that tight pussy.” 

“Don’t fucking stop, daddy, I-I’m gonna cum as well. Please—“

“FUCK!”

With one final deep and unrelenting thrust, you completely explode. It’s a shout that’s definitely justifiable enough to cause your eviction, even more so as she joins you in your peak. It’s a sensation that’s overwhelming and numbing at once. Your vision is filled with white. You can feel your ears ringing, legs completely giving out as you crash back down on the couch. An out-of-body experience that only happens with her leading you to become breathless and scrambling for air. You won’t stop cumming, can’t stop cumming as ropes upon ropes of semen continue to unload inside her, every jolt of your hips make sure to shoot your cum deep and fill her walls white. It fills you to and over the brim with bliss, a feeling that you want to chase over and over again. It’s addicting, it’s mind blowing, and it leaves your balls completely drained inside her. So much so that your cum immediately starts dripping out of her fucked pussy as soon as the last spurts have been left inside her, an erotic sight that you will never get tired of. 

A few minutes past before the tremors completely stop and you engage in a mindless makeout session with her to help you two calm down. Brush loose strands of disheveled hair aside as you can gradually feel her breathing return to normal, wrap your arms around her waist possessively and she squeals due to her heightened sensitivity. “You filled me up so well daddy, fuck…..” Wonyoung takes a finger and swipes at a streak of cum that drizzled out of her and brings it to her mouth as if it was spilled ice cream, her facial expression indiscernible. “Yum! Next time I want it all in my mouth, m’kay?”

“God, you’re insatiable.”

She gives you a kiss, then she starts grinding her hips again. “Only for you, daddy.” 

[savventeen]

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

[matchalovertrait]

So many people, so many different thoughts and opinions!

Previous / Next (Transcript under the cut)

Transcript:

(1.) [Andrea] You have 30 minutes to make an appetizer using all four of the basket ingredients. The timer starts... Now!

(2.) [Alex] I'm making a raclette with an assortment of merguez sausage, vegetable flatbread, pea shoots, and a side of shakshuka sauce. I think everything will go nicely with the melted cheese.

(3.) [Alex] I'll add ham, salami, steamed potatoes, and olives. I'm kind of playing it safe, but I hope the variety of flavors work out for me. It's all part of my strategy to at least get to the second round.

(4.) [Lewis] I've calmed down now. I decided to make a salad with pea shoots, crumbled sausage, flatbread croutons, and a shakshuka vinaigrette.

(5.) [Lewis] It's a salad. I can't possibly mess this up.... right?

(6.) [Dulce] I went with pizza wedges with a flatbread crust. They'll have shakshuka sauce, pea shoots, and merguez sausage. Of course, I'll be adding some mozzarella and parmesan cheese.

(7.) [Dulce] The pizza wedges are going to be soooo cute and fun. I'll also put some bacon bits and garlic. I can't put too many things, though. The wedges aren't going to be that big.

(8.) [Rubiya] I'm making spaghetti with merguez sausage meatballs, shakshuka sauce, and pea shoots. I'll add the vegetables from the flatbread to my sauce and use the rest of the flatbread to make garlic bread.

(9.) [Rubiya] Could I have made shakshuka? Yes, but that's rather predictable. Also, as someone from a Middle Eastern family, I refuse to use premade shakshuka sauce. I must make it from scratch.

(10.) [Andrea] It's time to introduce the two judges here today who are joining Michelin-Starred Chef, Mia D'Angelo-Ramirez.

(11.) [Mia] Thank you, Andrea. I'm always accompanied by amazing people, but I think the viewers and contestants will find today's lineup quite astounding.

(12.) [Dulce] Wow, it's actually her... I look up to Chef Mia a lot as another Mexican-Italian. I don't have Italian blood like her, but I was born here. I want to be on her level someday.

(13.) [Lewis] Oh my gosh..... I know Chef Mia is in every episode, but I still got nervous again when I saw her at the judges' table. She is so beautiful and talented.

(14.) [Carlo] Mia, you flatter me.

[Andrea] Chef Mia is right, though! Folks, here we have Executive Chef and Food Entrepreneur, Carlo Mancini.

(15.) [Alex] Chef Carlo Mancini??? He's the real deal. It's too late to change my appetizer now, so I have to impress him with my raclette.

(16.) [Rubiya] Chef Carlo Mancini. This will be fun.

(17.) [Andrea] And here's Grammy Award winner, Sofia Bjergsen!

[Sofia] Thank you so much. I've already been having a blast here. Not many people know this, but I was actually in culinary school for a bit before I decided to pursue music full-time.

(18.) [Dulce] THE Sofia Bjergsen??? I have all of her vinyl records! My favorite song by her is My Love Knows. I know the entire choreography for that song... here, I'll show you!

(19.) *My Love Knows by Sofia Bjergsen starts playing*

(20.) *My Love Knows by Sofia Bjergsen starts playing*

(21.) [Alex] Okay, I'll admit that I'm a fan, but what is she doing here? Isn't she on a world tour right now?

(22.) [Andrea] We are overjoyed to have the three of you as judges. Please, talk amongst yourselves while I check on the chefs.

[emelinstriker]

Mink (Ink MK) ♡ Opinions

Minky-Mink needs love too y'know.

Even if some people disagree with the choice of one's lover based on past experiences with said inky entity...

Also not gonna lie, I probably got the layout of Flower Fruit Mountain messed up cuz I just went purely by memory, so if something changed over the course of the show, and it shouldn't be like that in the current timeframe of the story, just ignore it- I can't be bothered with looking back at all the episodes involving the mountain and whatever happens on it- fdhgnfdhghfdg

Art drawn by me

♡ ~ Fluff ~ ♡ 

You and your friend MK were walking towards the waterfall on Flower Fruit Mountain. MK was supposed to train with Monkey King today, and you just decided to go with him to visit Sun Wukong again after not having seen him since the beach party you had following the downfall of the Brotherhood. You even brought some peach-flavored snacks for him!

Once MK split the waterfall and you entered, you almost immediately spotted Wukong seemingly napping on his peach tree. MK decided to grab his attention, "Monkey King! We're here!"

Monkey King opens his eyes and grinned, lazily waving. "Hey, bud. You're early." Then he noticed you before jumping off the tree to talk to the two of you. "Oh hey, (Y/N). What brings you here today? I don't think you said anything about joining in on training."

You shook your head, waving your hand dismissively as you let out a nervous chuckle. "Oh- Ah, no... I'm just here to visit. I haven't seen you since the beach party... And I brought snacks for you!" You then began to drop your backpack to shuffle around in it, grabbing some of the peach-flavored snacks. MK just stared at you in both awe and shock... How did you manage to fit all of those in there?! Meanwhile, Wukong snickered at the sight of all those snacks in your arms. He crossed his arms with a grin.

"Oh damn, you brought a lot... You sure these are for me? I could just, you know, use my hair and recreate those... Would've been a lot less expensive-" "No, no! I insist!" You interrupted him with a sheepish smile. "I'd rather have you eat actual food than food made from your hair, to be honest. It's a lot more comforting not having to ignore the fact that your food would technically be made out of your hair."

Wukong shrugged as he took the snacks from you. "Eh, point taken." He then glanced back over to your backpack and paused as something caught his eye. And yet, he didn't say anything as he slowly frowned in suspicion. His frown was quickly masked by a smile. "So, do you guys wanna come in?"

You grabbed your backpack off the ground and nodded before making your way inside with MK. Placing your bag on the couch, you turn back towards Wukong with a small smile as you place your backpack against the side of the couch. "Thanks for letting me hang out with you two, Monkey King. Otherwise I would've just spent the entire day at Pigsy's."

He waved his hand dismissively, "Don't mention it. It's a lot more fun hanging with me and MK than at the noodle shop, if I'm being honest here." He said kind of smugly. "Who knows what could happen next? What kind of adventures await us while simply being in this room?" Monkey King added dramatically. Then his eyes landed on your backpack again as he got suspicious once more. Just to make sure of what he saw, his eyes flickered golden for a moment to confirm your backpack's content to him, revealing exactly what he assumed he saw... He had to bring it up now, because what he saw was dangerous...

"Say, (Y/N)... Have you brought anything else besides snacks?"

You tilted your head at him in confusion. "Um... No? I only brought snacks as gifts. I don't have other gifts for you, sorry..."

He shook his head and crossed his arms. "I'm not talking about specifically gifts for me... I'm talking about if you brought anything else in general with you." You blinked at him, still confused, but at least he clarified his question.

"Um... I can just show you my backpack if that helps... I don't own any weapons or anything like that though, so I'm not sure why you're asking about this-" You said as you picked up your backpack, placing it on the couch. The moment you opened it, both MK and his mentor peer into your backpack with you. The ginger-furred simian already saw what was in there, but the sight shocked MK as he looks a bit... Confused? Betrayed?

"What... W-Why do you have that scroll, (Y/N)?" MK asked in disbelief as he looked at the black and blue scroll sitting at the bottom of your now-empty-of-snacks backpack. You were just purely confused about why both were stressing so much about the scroll... The scroll has never been evil since you got it a long while ago from your dad... All it did was give you a new friend... Or rather lover. And he's never done anything in the months you've known him personally.

"Nezha took the scroll and brought it back to where it came from... How do you have it? Did he give it to you? Did you steal it?" Wukong asked with a raised eyebrow. You nervously scratched your cheek. While your answer was simple and you didn't plan anything malicious, you really didn't feel comfortable with the way Wukong sounded... It was as if you were being interrogated for doing something horrible.

While you were trapped in the scroll with your friends before, something they didn't know about was how the scroll's curse never actually did anything to you, at all. And instead of reliving some form of memory of yours or the past like the others, you actually were just lost and wandering aimlessly... Until you met the curse and talked to it. Or, well, him... Because the curse took on the form of MK, but made out of ink, including imitating his voice. He probably took on your friend's form to appear friendlier, which worked to an extent... After all, you weren't used to seeing MK's monkey form made out of ink.

Long story short, you became friends with the scroll's curse and even got a lot closer after your dad gave you the now much more docile scroll... How he got his hands on it, you never questioned since this was far from the weirdest achievements he's managed to reach. You would not be surprised if he had connections to the Underworld or the Celestial Realm. He was probably also the one who brought back Mink. Because you remembered how the curse was practically blasted and defeated by MK before being used by Azure Lion... Well, the curse was responsive once more when you opened the scroll.

"W-Well, um... My dad gave it to me and told me to open it whenever I'm in trouble or feel lonely... S-So... Uh..." You stammered out. MK blinked at you in confusion and suspicion while his mentor's glare was fully set on suspicion.

"(Y/N), you've seen what that scroll does... even with the curse not actively haunting us or our past and future. Especially if it falls into the wrong hands... I'm not saying you're directly the one with the wrong hands, but you could be at risk of losing that scroll to someone who would only do bad with it. Azure Lion was one of those..." Monkey King states firmly, trailing off with a bit of sadness when he thought about his fallen brother.

You frowned at him. "But... Mink wouldn't let that happen twice... And I already am carrying the scroll around everywhere I go..." Your friends looked at you in confusion. Ah, right... They didn't know who Mink was. So you added, "Mink is the scroll's ink demon curse... I named him that myself and he seemed to like it-" "Wait, wait, wait-" MK cut you off, "You named the curse? And gendered it??"

You nodded awkwardly. Monkey King pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "You know what? How about you just give me the scroll and I'll make sure it reaches Nezha again. Or I might as well just bring it back to the Underworld myself." He then reached his hand into your backpack. However, before he could grab the item, the scroll began to move. Monkey King and his successor took a step back in fear of the scroll lashing out at them and sucking them back inside to trap them. You on the other hand just casually reached your hand into your backpack, which seemed to stop the scroll from moving. Then you pulled it out and and held it in your hand.

"Mink doesn't like it when someone else holds the scroll of memory after all that happened... Usually I'm the only one he doesn't mind being carried by." You said, shrugging. Your words only seemed to confuse your friends more and more. 'How could you be so casually with such a dangerous weapon of entrapment?', they were probably wondering. Then you got an idea. "How about I introduce you guys to him? I know you technically already met him, but he's changed since you guys have last seen him..." And before they could respond, you open the scroll. Dread is plastered across your two friends' faces as they prepare to fight.

As the familiar black ink splat onto the ground beneath the scroll, a kneeling figure was formed by it on top of the small puddle. An inky figure with a swaying monkey tail and blue lights for a face... It took on the form of MK as it seemingly grinned at the real MK and his mentor.

"It really has been a while... MK, Sun Wukong."

There was some serious tension in the air as they both glare daggers into the ink demon in front of them. Mink stretches a bit as he stands up from his kneeling position. "No need to look so hostile. I'm not even doing anything." He then wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his tail around your leg. Despite him being made out of ink, the form the curse took on was quite solid and somewhat warm to the touch. "I'm just here to make sure my beloved human feels comfortable."

"MK, Monkey King, meet Mink. He's my, um... goopy boyfriend." You said sheepishly, to which Mink seemed to smugly grin at the other two. MK and Monkey King were both baffled. You were dating a literal curse placed upon the Scroll of Memory to keep others trapped in it! How could they not be shocked??

Though, for MK it wasn't so much the fact that you were dating a curse that confused him, instead it was the fact that the curse decided to use its ink replica of him to be affectionate with you. This, in of itself, made him feel uncomfortable and a bit disgusted since he saw you more as something like a sibling... And basically seeing a depiction of himself being romantically involved with you was just weird to him.

"...Alright, that scroll really has to be returned though-" Monkey King started, but then was cut off the moment he tried reaching for the scroll in your hands. An audible, ominous growl could be heard coming from Mink, which sounded more like a corrupted monster than the usual voice replica of MK.  The curse glared at the Great Sage Equal To Heaven while holding you close.

"That scroll now belongs to (Y/N). No one else will have it. I refuse to let anyone ever separate me from them!" Mink said angrily, which was a huge difference in behavior compared to when the group was trapped within the scroll.

Meanwhile, you also held tightly onto the scroll, hugging it close to your chest as you shook your head. "Sorry... But Mink and I already agreed on him staying with me... Which does unfortunately mean I have to keep the scroll around me at all times..."

"But does it really have to take on my form??" MK whined in response as he eyed Mink.

Mink shrugged in return before letting go of you to cross his arms. "What can I say? I just like this form. It's simple, not too tall or too short, not unfamiliar to (Y/N)... And I get to off-handedly remind you of our conversation a while ago! Isn't that fun~?" He said that last part rather mockingly, which made MK clench his fists. On the other hand, Monkey King's eyes softened a little as he looked at you, worried.

"(Y/N), think about this... Even if it- he- the curse, isn't doing anything right now, you can't forget about that scroll being more of a weapon against even the divine... Mink might trap more people in the scroll. And maybe even trap you in there agai-" "I would never do that!" Mink angrily cut him off, MK's replica voice sounded insulted. "Out of all the beings in existence that can get imprisoned, my beloved human will never be one of them! They can enter and leave the scroll freely whenever they want. It's already like their second home anyway." The ink curse added firmly before taking your hand into his.

Monkey King scoffed. "In my opinion, it would still be best to bring you back to where you belong. In the scroll, and in the Underworld."

"Well too bad, bud. I'm not leaving. You can't keep me from (Y/N)." Mink retaliated. The MK copy then seemed to pout as he shows a blue-glowing tongue, pointing it in the simian's direction like a stubborn child. Monkey King's eye seemed to twitch in annoyance.

"Mink isn't even outside of the scroll in public... He only ever comes out whenever we're alone..." You added, trying to defend the curse. Monkey King hesitantly sighed.

It took some time and some more arguments, but eventually MK and his mentor gave in and agreed to let you keep Mink... On the condition that Mink continues to stay in the scroll around people, and of course that you never use the scroll against others, even if you hated them. As if you were going to plan anything with the scroll anyway...

But on the other hand, Monkey King told Nezha about you, Mink, the scroll, and your relationship with the scroll's curse, and... uh...

He was not happy.

Like, at all.

However, that did not stop Mink from being with you. This actually ended up becoming more of a game of Nezha trying to "rescue" you while Mink would just hide you in the scroll whenever the Lotus Prince was around. And while Monkey King usually wouldn't help you with Mink, he would slowly start to join in on this little game and be the one to hide the scroll, pretending like he didn't see it. Just to mess with Nezha for the fun of it.

Soon, the rest of the crew found out about Mink's more permanent reappearance. While it also took a while, they did slowly start to accept him. Pigsy was the most pissed off one, just because Mink would end up leaving ink everywhere he went in the noodle shop... And of course, when Pigsy would tell you to it all clean up due to Mink technically being your responsibility, all the ink on the ground would suddenly disappear the moment you turned the corner to grab a mop. Sandy was probably the most open to the idea of you finally having found someone to love. Even if that someone was the literal curse that kept the group within the scroll... But at least Mink was nice to talk to! On top of that, Tang tried talking to him about history since Mink knew about everything immortalized within the scroll, to which Mink would ominously reply, "Wanna see for yourself?"

And of course, MK and Mei were still very much on edge... Especially MK due to, well, the entire topic of you literally dating an ink copy of him. Though, Mei kind of over it after realizing that she could now have another cool friend to hang out and have fun with. Mink's ink really helps in scary pranks, after all...

Then there was your relationship...

"Listen. You didn't specify when you said you wanted to have our next date on Flower Fruit Mountain." Mink said with a sly grin. You gave him a comedically unamused look.

"But I said Flower Fruit Mountain, not Flower Fruit Mountain within the scroll."

"Oh c'mon, there's not much of a difference anyway. The mountain barely even changed from the memories in the scroll. In my opinion, anyway. Besides, the actual mountain wouldn't let me do this-"

Suddenly a bunch of fireflies were summoned around you two as you sat on a cliff, leaning against Mink's inky body. You looked at them in awe as they lit up the night sky of the mountain's memory. "...They're beautiful."

"I could just throw in something cheesy. But the sentence of 'Not as beautiful as you' wouldn't exactly apply..." He started as you looked at him a bit offended.

But before you could chew him out over that comment, he added, "...It wouldn't apply because I've seen many use this line in the past, and literally none of the memories displayed within the entire history of the scroll's archive would compare to you. Not even all of them combined..." Which in turn made you snort as your offended look faded. Mink gave you a sly grin again at your reaction.

"...Just in my opinion, sweetheart."

[ Masterlist ]

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 2 SBD & Cinnamon Rolls

Series Master List

Rating: M for language, but this blog is 18+ MDNI

Summary: Frankie works out at Pope's Gym with his bff Pope

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! Bit of backstory about reader, Frankie gets a glimpse into reader's powerlifting world, meet some OCs. And as always, thank you to my beta @bloviating-vy, although I messed with it later so all errors are my own, lol.

Word Count: 3.7k

Tags: no y/n, reader gets a nickname, swearing, yelling, discussion about food, reader is a powerlifting girlie in her late 30's described as short and she has hair long enough to put into a ponytail, Tom is alive unfortunately (we hate Tom), Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, reader's mother is a menace, an OC is fatphobic, some Frankie POV

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One of the hobbies you picked up after you broke up with your fiancé — ex-fiancé — was baking. Chase always complained that everything you cooked or baked made him fat. You both shared a sweet tooth, but he was adamant about keeping the house sweets-free, fat-free, fun-free. Christ, he had gotten so militant about so many things. So fucking suffocating.

He didn't start out this way when you first met in college. He was sweet and driven, focused on getting into medical school, like you were. Your first real relationship. But somewhere between medical school, residency, and supporting him through his fellowship, he became increasingly neurotic and controlling. He started yelling, first about things, then at you. Why can't you do anything right? Why are you friends with her? Who is he? Why are you texting him? Why do you act like a child? You're going to wear that? That outfit makes you look like a whore. He started bragging about what a big bad surgeon he was going to be and how lucky you were to be with him. The larger his ego grew, the smaller you felt. It took you too long to realize the college boy you fell for no longer existed.

Now, every Friday night after a long day, you'd go home, throw on some tunes, and bake to decompress from the week. There is something calming and meditative about the process — measuring, mixing, and kneading — resulting in a desired outcome that pleases you, delights you. Sometimes you even liked to get experimental with the flavors from your childhood. You could watch whatever show you wanted while you baked: wholesome comedies to cringe-worthy reality tv, without a judgment to be heard. Peace. You finally had peace.

Despite the long days at the group practice, it was nothing compared to the 80-100 hours a week you'd pull working at the hospital. Did you miss teaching the next crop of residents? Sure, but you love the newfound free time you had to do things for yourself, things that interest you. You needed a break and a break from working in the same building as Chase. The hospital just wasn't big enough.

The hospital rumor mill had cranked into high gear when you caught him sneaking out of a call room with one of the OR nurses, scrubs rumpled, hair mussed. It's like you were living in a fucking episode of Grey's Anatomy. And he had the audacity to raise his voice at you in the middle of the hospital in front of what felt like everyone. You stopped wearing your engagement ring (thank fuck) and Chase started blatantly hooking up with any of the staff that were ready and willing. Of which there were a lot. You were done with the hierarchy of the hospital, placing surgeons at the very top, over-inflating their otherwise fragile egos. You were over the whispered judgements questioning Why would you leave a surgeon? What was wrong with you? Between the long hours and hushed whispers everywhere you went, you wanted — no, needed — a change.

You joined a group practice with some former residency friends across town and moved into a small one bedroom apartment until you could decide what your next steps were. It helped that Pope's Gym was halfway between home and work now, so you settled into a more sustainable routine of working, lifting, and exploring hobbies and interests long neglected since college. And Chase. And more recently, giving the whole online dating thing a spin after over a year of pouring back into yourself, rediscovering who you are now in your late 30's.

Sometimes it felt like going through a second adolescence, rebelling against the expectations Chase and your parents caged you with, to fit their very specific idea of who you should be as a wife first and physician second. Always serving a role, being a pretty object, but never a person. At the first opportunity, you sold the stupid black Audi that Chase had insisted you buy because all of the other physicians owned the same fucking one. He also insisted on an automatic because he couldn't drive stick. Now you zipped to work in that sporty blue WRX STI that you wanted in the first place, windows down, singing loudly and off key to the radio, free as can be.

It still hurt when you ended things, but it hurt a lot less than you thought it would. You realized the end really began when Chase left for his fellowship out of state and you noticed how much happier and free you felt when you were on your own. Why didn't you miss him more? Why didn't you miss him at all?

And yet, it didn't stop you from saying yes when he proposed. A big flashy proposal in front of both your families. You remember feeling frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a car driven by your mother. Your mother's voice in your ear, You won't do better than a surgeon. Not with your looks. Not with those thighs you inherited from me. So you said yes and floated through the rest of the celebratory evening weighed down by the most obscene diamond ring, smiling and nodding like a robot while you drowned on the inside. Saying and doing exactly what you had been taught to do as the eldest daughter. Appease. Please. Live for everyone else. And don't rock the fucking boat.

Frankie couldn’t remember a Saturday when he had sweated so much. When is Pope going to get a proper A/C system for his gym? It'd been a week since Frankie met you at Redfly's and Pope had finally convinced him to come in for a workout despite his excuse that he had Gabi that weekend. I'm sure your mamá would love to spend some time with her nieta, Pope had pressed.

Which is how Frankie finds himself, curls dripping in sweat, looking up at Pope's crotch as Pope hands off the barbell for him to bench. Fuck, he’s out of shape. And getting old. Pretty sure he could hear both his shoulders creak under whatever weight Pope had shoved onto the bar. He grimaces at how he is going to feel tomorrow.

As he finishes his set and sits up, Frankie catches a blur of lavender and black greeting Benny and beelining to one of the lifting platforms near the entrance of the gym. It was you.

“You can quit starin', Fish, she’ll be here at least 2.5 hours. It’s her SBD Day,” Pope ribs. "You text her about dinner yet?"

"Um…" Frankie pauses before choosing deflection. "Uh, what's SBD?"

"Jesus, Fish, it's been over a week," Pope chides.

"I mean, we've texted a bit," Frankie mumbles, getting up from the bench and turning to face away from you, one hand cupping his neck.

"Squat, bench, deadlift," Pope responds.

"What?"

"That's what SBD stands for," Pope grunts, laying back on the bench to complete his set.

"She's going to do all three in one workout?!"

"She's planning to compete this year, so yeah," Pope unracks the barbell on his own as Frankie just stands there dumbfounded. He was beat just benching with Pope this morning.

He takes another glance in your direction as you wrestle your knee sleeves on and flop dramatically on the ground when you finish. As other members filter around your platform, you greet them like old friends with that warm, beaming smile of yours. Even the perpetually furrowed brow woman doing tire flips in one corner of the gym breaks out a smile when you arrive and wave at her. Frankie had noticed her shirt first, a deep red t-shirt with cut-off sleeves that read "STRONGER IS HARDER TO KILL" in aggressive black text.

He could watch you lift all day. The way you set up for your squat with mechanical precision. Your entire body language changes with a flick of a switch. You could be casually chatting with another person, but as soon as you walk up to the barbell and click your belt in place, you are methodical, intentional, focused. When your hands touch the barbell a streak of aggressive energy swirls around you as you swoop under the barbell and set your feet, left foot, then right. Two deep breaths and brace. A flick of your ponytail over the bar. Back tight against the bar with an assertive lift-off. Right foot back, then left. A brief pause. Then squat. Loading into your lower body with control. High knees. Weight midfoot. Driving up into each rep. Rep after rep. Pause. Re-rack. The switch flicks back when you lever off your belt and you're giggling again about something with someone until your next set. Rinse and repeat. It is fucking hot.

"C'mon Fish, top set," Pope prods, bringing Frankie back from his reverie with a groan. "If you get a move on, maybe we'll finish in time for you to offer your spotting services to her when she gets to her bench."

Frankie hustles.

As he spots Pope for his top set, he notices a toned, blonde man with a garish tan approach you as you stand to do another set. Instead of greeting him with your usual smile you gave everyone else, he sees your entire body tense at the man's approach. Frankie couldn't hear what Blondie is saying to you but you cross your arms, hands gripping your upper arms as you move to the edge of your platform, giving you as much distance as possible from the guy. You shake your head twice to whatever Blondie says.

This guy makes you uncomfortable, Frankie thinks to himself, paying rapt attention to the interaction. He loses himself in thought wondering what the story with Blondie is, if you had dated him before, or...?

Pope's grunt snaps his attention back to his friend as he helps Pope re-rack the bar.

"Who's the guy?" Frankie asks, tilting his head towards your direction. Pope glances over before he shrugs and responds, "His name is Michael? Mike? Kind of a bro."

Mike seems to have finally gotten the hint and stalked off. You stand there for a moment before glancing around the gym wondering if anyone else saw the interaction. Your eyes fell on him and Pope, lighting up before mouthing hi and giving Frankie the sweetest smile and small wave. Frankie felt his cheeks flush as he smiles back and looks down at the weights he had been removing from the bar.

"Fish, why are you taking all the weights off? We still have backdown sets!" Pope rolls his eyes. "Focus, cabrón."

As he and Pope work through the backdown sets that seem to take fucking forever, Frankie keeps a sharp eye out for Blondie in case the man decides to bother you again. Everything seems to have gone back to normal, as you finish your squats and adjust the rack for bench. Frankie notices a sudden shift in the gym's energy. Energy amping up as it seems like everyone is watching you more intently than he is. What the fuck is going on?

"Oh shit, it's time," Pope says, snapping to attention and moves towards you. "Let's go, don't wanna miss out on..."

"I thought we had one more set?" Frankie asks as he follows behind Pope.

"SNACK TIME!" bellows the woman in the aggressive Harder to Kill shirt who now stands next to you.

"Descend like locusts" drifts through your mind as you dig out two enormous Tupperwares of baked goods. Thank God for powerlifters and their appetites, otherwise your co-workers would complain about all the sweets you brought to the office. You didn't need that kind of negativity around such a delicious act of love.

Snack time became gym tradition on SBD Saturdays, usually between squat and bench. This week you made fluffy cinnamon rolls, a batch of regular flavored rolls with a light icing and an experimental batch of ube flavored rolls with delicate coconut icing, making them a delightful purple dressed in white swirls.

"Fuck, these are so good," Pope groans before taking another large chomp out of his purple cinnamon roll.

You see Frankie standing behind Pope, glancing around, bewildered at the crush of powerlifters crowding your platform to grab a treat. You manage to squeeze through the throng of biceps and quads to reach him.

"Saved you half of each," you smile up at him before proffering up your baked treats. He seemed surprised you thought to save him some.

"S'good, so good," he groans between bites. "S'not too sweet either. I really like that."

"That's why we call her Sweets," the furrow-browed woman says as she walks up to you and Frankie. When Frankie gives her a confused look, she explains, "It's the highest praise she gives for dessert, not too sweet."

"Ah yeah, no one really calls me by my name," you explain with a shrug. "Everyone just calls me Sweets, honestly." Frankie nods with comprehension, shoving the rest of the roll into his mouth as if to give himself an excuse to avoid talking.

"Frankie, this is Chloé. Chloé, Frankie," you introduce the two of them. Chloé gives you a meaningful look before grunting a nice to meet you at Frankie. When she gives him an extra firm handshake you inwardly roll your eyes.

The first time you met Chloé, she immediately sized you up, trying to not-so-subtly find out if you were interested in Benny. It made sense since you had just squatted him in front of the whole gym to get him to shut the hell up. It could have been interpreted as a sweet pick-up move (if you thought so yourself, although you hadn't tried it on someone you actually wanted to pick-up, pick-up yet). As soon as you snorted that yes, you thought Benny was hot, but no, absolutely not your type, Chloé released her arched brows and decided you were okay, or at least not mortal enemies. She even offered some valuable insight into the idiosyncrasies of Pope's Gym and its members.

You soon learned that her fierce demeanor and myriad of furrowed expressions ("Yeah, I'm aware. My mom reminds me all the fucking time my face is going to get stuck like this if it hasn't already.") protected her thoughtful, kind, and sweet interior. Her broad shoulders, taut muscles, long single braid down her back, and aggressively worded shirts struck an intimidating image. You won her over once you plied her with snacks you kept in your gym bag. Premium snacks, every powerlifter's dream.

"Why are you sharing the good stuff," she asked, a skeptical arched eyebrow appearing once again.

"Us girlies gotta stick together," you reason. "Plus, who else is going to listen to you gush about Benny's abs?"

You both bonded over training cycles (fuck volume week, you can't count higher than 5 in the gym), training on your cycle (uuuuugh, just gut me now), creative ways to consume enough carbs (you both loved to bake and began swapping recipes at an alarming frequency), Benny's abs, and Pope's ass (dares may have been made to try and bounce a quarter off it). Chloé definitely had an enormous crush on Benny, but adamantly put her foot down when it came to dating anyone from the gym. Not gonna shit where I eat or something like that.

You treasured your friendship Chloé, the way she understood the highs and lows of training, didn't care you were basically a pariah in your family, and didn't give a flying fuck about other people's expectations. When you eventually shared why you moved to this part of town, how you ended up at Pope's Gym, and why you broke off your engagement, she looked you dead in the eye and congratulated you, "Sounds like that was a close call."

It made sense why she is now giving Frankie the once over, although you suspect it would take a lot longer and more than a few choice snacks to get Chloé to view Frankie without reservation. You appreciate how protective she is of you now that you are two peas in a powerlifting gym. Despite her own reservations about dating someone at the gym, she mostly kept her opinions to herself when you had mentioned going to have drinks with Benny's friends, including Pope's best friend.

Of course she was the first one you told the next morning as you warmed up for your workout — how the evening went, how you finally tried literally picking up someone you wanted to pick-up, pick-up, and your surprise when it worked. At the end of the night, Frankie had insisted on walking you to your car where he asked for your number with heat creeping up his neck before getting promptly distracted by your car. Wow, I've always wanted to drive one of these! Did you know they make some of the best rally cars? Oooh and it’s a manual! You may have suggested if he was lucky, you’d take him for a ride one day as you slid into the driver's seat. Before you even got home, your phone pinged with a message from him asking if you'd let him know when you got home safe.

"Just... be careful okay?" Chloé pressed, concern creased across her brows this time. "If Frankie starts working out here because he is the owner's best friend, you're gonna have to deal with some awkward shit if it doesn't work out."

"Good thing I have you as back-up," you teased back, earning you a Chloé shove of annoyed affection.

Frankie knows he's really in trouble now.

Between the glare from the serious looking woman, Chloé, shooting you pointed looks after you introduced the two of them, and the fluffiest, softest, most delectable cinnamon roll he's ever eaten in his life, he's either going to die getting strangled by Chloé when he eventually fucks things up with you or he's going to die of diabetes. Because Christ, you can bake too? How did you get the roll so light and fluffy? And just the perfect level of sweetness? Is that coconut in the icing on the purple cinnamon roll? Frankie loves sweets, but hates things that were so sweet it made his literal teeth hurt. Somehow you had managed the perfect balance of sweet. A fitting nickname, Sweets.

He peers around for the tupperware you brought, hoping a cinnamon roll may have escaped the locust of lifters that had descended just a few moments before, but the box is picked clean. It's then Frankie sees Mike grousing as he picks up and slams the container onto the floor.

"You didn't save one for me, Sweets?" he says, indignant words laced with outrage.

Frankie watches you flinch and move, putting as much space as you can between yourself and Mike.

"Fuck off, Mike." Chloé bites back, stepping in front of you.

"Even the new guy got one?" Mike jerks his head towards Frankie.

Frankie steps forward in line with Chloé and furrows his brows, hands clenching and unclenching. Who the fuck did Mike think he is?

"Yeah, well, I like him more," you push back, voice unsteady, staying partially hidden behind him and Chloé.

"What the FUCK did you just say bi—" Mike snarls, stalking forward just as Pope and Benny come up behind him. Benny clamps both hands on Mike's shoulders, staring daggers into the back of his head.

"Time to take a walk, buddy," Pope instructs, as Benny steers Mike around and marches him in the opposite direction. It takes Frankie a moment to realize he'd also moved, putting himself between Mike and the two of you, ready to protect. He drops his arms before turning back towards you.

Eyes wide, you release a long, shakey exhale and roll your shoulders away from your ears. After a moment you move to slide an arm around him and Chloé. "Thanks for having my back," you say to the ground. He can still feel a slight tremor in your arm before you drop them.

"Mike's such a fucking douchebag," Chloé huffs, glaring in the direction Benny and Pope had gone with Mike to before looking at Frankie with a flicker of appreciation before resuming her usual scowl.

"Wasn't gonna let him touch either of you," Frankie hesitates, "Know you're both strong women that can handle shit, but he's got at least 30 pounds on either of you. Wouldn't be ok just sittin' back if I could do something 'bout it."

Your eyes shift around him, glancing to make sure Mike hadn't suddenly come running back, before looking up at him, eyes still wide, before thanking him again. "Yelling... freaks me out. I — I don't... handle it very well sometimes." Chloé eyes you like she knows a lot more behind what you're talking about.

Frankie's unsure of what to do next. He wants to pull you to him, hold you, promise you you are safe and he won’t ever let Mike or anyone touch a hair on you ever. He longs to soothe the terrified expression off your face, wants to know what else made you so afraid besides what happened today. He isn’t good at many things, but Frankie knows he is built to protect the people he cares about, always making sure all the guys came home to their loved ones, safe. He wants to be the one who cares about you, protects you from anything that could hurt you, even if you are capable of standing up for yourself.

You take a few more slow deep breaths, staring at the entrance of the gym, before tearing off your squat shoes and knee sleeves. A switch flips and you're back to lifting mode, focused and determined, setting up the rack for your bench.

Frankie thinks he catches Chloé rolling her eyes when you shyly ask if he'd stick around and spot you in a few sets. "Absolutely," he breathes, delighted at the excuse to stay near you.

"Look," you continue, all business. "My top set is going to get real grindy, the bar might even come to a total stop, but don't touch the fucking bar unless it goes back down, okay?" you look at him over your shoulder waiting for confirmation before you lie back on the bench.

"Yes, ma'am."

<<prev chapter next chapter >>

Notes: nieta = granddaughter; cabrón = asshole

🙏🏽 Thank you for continuing to read! Your comments and reblogs have been giving me lifeeeee! I'm still bad at tumblr and new to tags/warnings, so if I missed something please let me know. Planning to post every other week since I have a lot of travel coming up.

I am open to constructive feedback but please be gentle with this baby powerlifting writer, yeah? I might be able to squat you, but I'm a big ol' softie.

Taglist is open: @katareyoudrilling @christinamadsen @rebel-held @littlemisspascal @burntheedges

[bunnyinfoxclothing]

Chaggie Cooking/Baking

Okay... hear me out...

This is something I have wanted to talk about for awhile. But it is so out of left field and absolutely nobody asked for this. But I want to rant, and this is my blog so suck it up.

So I read a lot of fan fiction... probably too much and as far as I have seen. A lot of people agree, that Charlie can't cook, but in the same vein most think that she can bake.

HAVE ANY OF YOU TRIED TO BAKE??

I'm talking anything other than premade flour dough, where you just add eggs, butter and water or oil.

None of this:

Baking is almost exclusively about specifics. Everything has to be mixed for a certain time. Over mixing can cause any rising agent to go flat. If you over mix eggs they will become curdled and dry. But if you under mix your bread becomes tough and dense, almost like a brick, making it inedible. With egg whites they can be left too runny and unusable in a meringue. Temperatures have to be exact. Butter has to be the correct consistency. You have to know how to measure, things can be messed up if you are off by a gram.

This is because Baking is quite literally, stripped down to it's most basic form, Chemistry.

All of this to say in baking you need 5 key things.

Organization

Attention to Detail

Co-ordination

Patience

Creativity

Does Charlie have all of these traits? YES! Can she hold all of them at once for 40 min? I am less certain.

However if Charlie is failing to cook... she is not succeeding in baking.

Now that being said. I think Charlie would make a fantastic cook.

If Baking is chemistry, cooking is art.

In baking if you mess something up and it doesn't taste good, you are back to step one. In cooking, you add seasoning and flavors and adjust to your taste and the tastes of others as you go.

Cooking is hands on, taste every step of the way.

Baking is follow this recipe exact or face the wrath of the gods. Cooking is, here is a general guideline, you decide what a pinch is, and always double the amount of garlic we suggest.

In art, there is trust the process, because in the moment things can look bad or strange or use ugly colors, but you can paint over mistakes, you can use markers to color over wrong lines, you can add details to turn something from a sketch to a masterpiece. You can look at something, see the mistake and fix it.

Tell me this scene of Remy dancing, tasting, and adding flavor doesn't seem exactly like what Charlie would do. Throwing stuff in, just to add to the flavor, improvising.

In episode 3 Charlie literally heard the words "I don't trust you" and decided that's what they were doing for the day. No plan, no idea, just straight into it.

(Charlie and Vaggie probably had a brainstorm session right before to decide on trust falls and to make the banner, but still)

Charlie as a Character very much hops into things with full enthusiasm and lets whatever is happening guide her to the next decision.

That is not the personality of a baker. That is the personality of a chef.

Anyway, someone please make an Au of this with Chef Charlie and Baker Vaggie trying to teach each other and fall in love. It would be so cute.

(Vaggie teaches Charlie discipline and subtly, creating a calmer mind in the kitchen, and Charlie applies that to her personal life, so she can better talk to people. Meanwhile Charlie teaches Vaggie how to have fun and go with the flow. Allowing Vaggie to go out and explore the world a bit more. Greet the world with open arms style. iykyk)

Anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[dandylovesturtles]

31 and 36 for the ask game 🏄‍♂️

Okay so I’m going to answer these in reverse because while I was thinking of the answer to 31 I ended up having a whole tangential rant and I’m going to put that part of my answer under a cut lol

36. I think Mikey is the hardest one for me to write. He’s easy enough as a side character, but when I try to make him the main character I have a harder time delving into his flaws and problems and what makes him tick as a driving force of the narrative. It’s something I would like to change, though, because I love Mikey a lot. I’m grateful to the people who write Mikey-centric fics because I can read those and learn more so I can better rotate him in my brain microwave haha

31. So it’s not necessarily that I dislike Donnie’s Gifts as an episode, but I do tend to pretend it didn’t happen most of the time, because I have no idea what to do with it lol. It’s definitely not meant to be taken too seriously and I think that’s fine, and I don’t really like taking it too seriously. But I am usually writing more serious-flavored fics, so bringing up that time Donnie put a shock collar on his brother feels…. well, it breaks the tone haha

I have enjoyed the occasional fic or comic that DOES choose to take it seriously but I prefer to just pretend it’s not there for my own work.

Mind Meld is kind of in the same boat but this is where I ended up going on a whole tangent so I’m going to put it under a cut

The thing with Mind Meld is I feel like they had a good idea but then lost the through line. I THINK they wanted the ultimate lesson for Donnie to be that he prefers his brothers the way they are, even if that means they don’t think and act like he does. And I don’t think this is a bad issue to tackle with Donnie. Overall I kind of like the idea of him using a machine to make his brothers more like him as a thing he thinks at first will be beneficial, so that’s not really where my problem is.

My problem with the episode is… it works? Like, they do the mission properly. And then the bros end up being even smarter than Donnie and better at doing things. So by the end it feels like Donnie isn’t reverting his bros because he misses them, it feels like jealousy. Especially because they start being actively hostile toward him.

If I were writing the episode, I would have them bungle the mission the second time too. And Donnie would not understand, because how could four of him have messed it up! But of course, it’s BECAUSE you have four people who all think the same way that it falls apart. They all get caught up in Classic Donnie Overthink and everything goes to shit. Mikey can no longer razz his tazz around an obstacle and Raph doesn’t want to use his fists for smashing and Leo is thinking straight forward and not in 4 dimensions.

Donnie having to come up with a THIRD plan, one that properly took his brothers’ strengths and personalities into account, and then convincing his Donnie-fied bros to think that way and thus accomplish the mission, would show that Donnie has learned the error of his ways and has come to fully understand the strengths that each of his brothers has even if they aren’t the same strengths Donnie has. Which is what Donnie’s Gifts was trying to do too but if they’re going to do the same story twice anyway might as well do it better the second time.

Anyway in conclusion Nickelodeon should hire me /j

Thanks for the ask!

[lcdrarry]

LCDrarry 2024 Round-Up Post | Week 2

On Sundays during our posting period, we won't post a new work, instead you have time to catch up with the works that posted during the week and hopefully leave lovely comments for our creators.

Happy reading, commenting and sharing! ;)

~Your LCDrarry Mods

PS: Please have a look at the author notes and tags on AO3 for additional information. Thank you!

PPS: Please share far and wide! Thank you!!

***

Podfic

***

"As You Wish" by Pineau_noir

Prompt: "The Princess Bride", 1987, Rob Reiner Written by: Pineau_noir Narrated by: Anonymous Podfic Length: 02:31:28 Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: Draco was raised on a farm in the small country of Witshire; his favourite pastimes were flying on his broom and tormenting the hired farm boy. Though his name was Harry, Draco never called him that. On Harry's forehead there was a scar shaped like a lightning bolt, so Draco called him Scarhead.

Nothing gave Draco as much pleasure as ordering Harry around.

Or a story about fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, giants, monsters, chases, escapes, True Love, and miracles.

Listen to it now on AO3.

***

Fic

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first, she fell

Prompt: "Anatomy of a Fall", 2023, Justine Triet Prompted by: @wolfpants Author: Anonymous Word Count: 1,648 words Rating: Mature Warnings: angst, referenced character death, open ending, referenced adultery, speculated murder

Summary: Harry's wife is dead. No one knows quite what that means.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Caribou Garden

Prompt: Nature Documentaries (genre, any year) Prompted by: @meandminniemcg Author: Anonymous Word Count: 2,641 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: None

Summary: Alone with his swotty, posh, nemesis-turned-colleague on an uninhabited island in the far north, cinematographer Harry Potter grapples with his inconvenient crush. A nature documentary-inspired fic with magical caribou migrations, dramatic landscapes, and only one tent.

Read it now on AO3.

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Twin Blades

Prompt: “Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith”, 2005, George Lucas Author: Anonymous Word Count: 3,525 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: lightsaber combat, nightmares

Summary: Harry advances a few steps toward Draco, who doesn’t move, only watches him approach with narrowed eyes. “If you’re so sure the Jedi have no power, duel me. If you win, your master will be proud of you.” Draco’s eyes glitter. “And if you win?” “We’ll find out, won’t we?” Harry raises his lightsaber, readies himself. “Come on.” Without another word, Draco lunges at him.

Or, a Drarry-flavored reskin of the battle on Mustafar.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Slipping through my fingers all the time

Prompt: "Mamma Mia", 2008, Phyllida Lloyd Prompted by: @Azulaschild Author: Anonymous Word Count: 11,378 words Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: sex while on drugs, drinking

Summary: Recently-divorced Harry returns to Serenity Commune, site of his wildest youthful romps and the beginning of his recovery from trauma, to get out of a rut (and because Hermione made him). Unfortunately, sex, drugs, and dancing aren't all that await - he'll have to confront his past and what life might have been.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Leap Year

Prompt: "Leap Year", 2010, Anand Tucker Prompted by: @DrarryMyHeart Author: Anonymous Word Count: 29,064 words Rating: Mature Warnings: None apply.

Summary: Draco Malfoy has come a long way. He has a successful business and a muggle-born high-flyer boyfriend.

One tiny thing - it's been four years and he has no ring. No matter, he'll take things into his own hands. Feb 29th is an Irish muggle tradition that he'll happily jump on. Archie (boyfriend) is in Ireland - he'll simply portkey over and pop the question.

One (LARGE) problem. The portkey office messed up and he's landed outside Harry Potter's pub.

The same Harry Potter that hasn't been seen for ten years.

*Big sigh.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Runaway Groom

Prompt: "Runaway Bride," 1999, Garry Marshall Prompted by: @elskanellis Author: Anonymous Word Count: 30,044 words Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Arranged marriage (not between Harry and Draco), Infidelity if you squint (not between Harry and Draco)

Summary: OK, so Draco's feeling so nervous about his upcoming wedding to his fiancée Astoria Greengrass that he could faint. That's one of the pitfalls of an arranged marriage, right? Just because he's run out of his past three weddings, doesn't mean this one won't go ahead. He just has to keep his eyes on the finishing line, and ignore the sudden reappearance of Harry Potter, who seems to be determined to turn his world upside down. Again.

Read it now on AO3.

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Hope Is A Thing With Feathers

Prompt: "Thelma and Louise", 1991, Ridley Scott Author: Anonymous Word Count: 33,335 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator chose not to use Archive Warnings

Summary: Harry is disillusioned with the Aurors, his relationship with Ginny, and is tired of all the hero worship but feels trapped. Draco, still hated by the Wizarding world, decides to get away and shares his plan with Harry, his only friend. Harry jumps at the chance to go with him.

They share in the freedom of their adventure, but things don’t go according to plan. Amidst their misfortunes, they discover new talents, courage in the face of tragedy, and above all, love.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Romancing the Dragon

Prompt: "Romancing the Stone", 1984, Robert Zemeckis Prompted by: Anonymous Author: Anonymous Word Count: 34,382 words Rating: Explicit Warnings: Action movie typical violence

Summary: Harry Potter writes romance novels from the comfort of his London townhouse, with the assistance of his beloved cat, Juliet. He does not engage in rescue missions, talk to dragons, or develop feelings for Draco Malfoy. That would be absurd.

Read it now on AO3.

***

Please help promote the fest by sharing your favourite submissions, so more people can enjoy all the amazing new Drarry works of LCDrarry. Thank you!

Creator reveals are on 15 June.

[gerblinbones]

Deadbeat dads of Adventure Time!

As a deadbeat dad Martin is...Let's admit that if he hadn't went through unchecked brain damage and the fact he had been gone for so long, long enough to have burnt a bridge he knows he can't fix, he would've been a pretty good dad who'd probably make pancakes and waffles for the kids while the oven is smoking out.

We seen how well he makes soup [With possibly a very limited flavor palette] during episode 7 at FaC. He can make some pretty good meals, albeit with the possibility of setting something on fire if he's rushing things.

So comparing Martin with some other father figures [not Simon or Mr. Pig though, they're pretty good] If he hadn't went through what he went through or could've showed up on time before his mind started to fade and his entire life became a mess he just moves forward in and, He'd be a decent dad.

Hudson is...Something

He genuinely does care but human emotions aren't his thing, and by this AU's standards. He gives the same vibe of a dad who'd help you out on homework all the while insulting your work.

He would let you buy a dress but insult your choice in fashion [either meaning to or not] and even compares you to others believing it'll motivate you. You won't tell when he is and isn't being manipulative or genuine because they both fall on such simlar forms to him that in all honesty, if Hudson understood human emotions, he would've had some better effort. Like seriously, he has the benefit of doubt for running basically the underworld itself and being a immortal being who only knows the outer layer of what feelings are, but he's still a jerk. And unless we get deeper understanding of him. All we know is, he's a...Something, dad.

YES. YES YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT.

Martin, while he did still suffer brain damage and couldn’t fully repair his relationship with his children (he didn’t even know Fionna existed), still makes more of an effort to fix things than he did in the show. He didn’t have as drastic of a personality change, so he probably would still sit his kids down for a slightly more charred than normal meal. :)

And you’re RIGHT on the money with Hunson, my gosh. He’s really, really, REALLY bad at understanding human emotion and empathy isn’t something he’s fantastic at either. He’s pretty much the exact same as the show but put in a different scenario. It’s harder to emotionally connect and bond with two kids than one for him, and though he loves them, he very much subconsciously gravitates to expressing that to Marshall more. He’s critical of them both, only because he wants to see them do their best, and that usually just translates into him being awful without him really even meaning to be. Marcy gets the short end of the stick for that. She’s usually the one that receives casual criticism for pretty much exactly what you mentioned.

He’s much more attentive to Marshall’s successes and positive experiences, because yknow, boy’s got more of the demon genes, whereas Marceline would have to mention hers more than once for it to go noticed. Unintentional favoritism at its finest, and if he understood human emotion better it would still be an issue, but a much smaller one.

[transmascutena]

Hey hey, I forget if you've ever posted about this, but one thing that fascinates me about Utena is the food side of everything. How Akio bakes, how Anthy basically only successfully makes shaved ice, and how Utena talks about the food going bad from lack of refrigeration. How it's not the job of the Rose Bride to cook. How Wakaba being able to prepare food makes her a good wife. I have thoughts about this, but I'll avoid saying too much because I wanna hear what you have to say too

i have gotten an ask about anthy's cooking before, where i talked about the ability to make food as a symbol for agency/freedom/independence, and how anthy can cook certain things like festival food, shaved ice, rosehip jam, the cantarella cookies, but not really anything that counts as a substantial meal (the curry is a bit of an outlier here. i guess it shows that her agency is mainly expressed through messing with nanami?) anthy says she wants to get better at cooking, and i'm inclined to believe her. i think she has the potential to be good at it too, but that akio has.... discouraged her from trying, as a way to make her more reliant on him. although, i actually can't recall if akio ever does anything in the kitchen other than (allegedly) bake that cake to impress utena, so maybe i'm way off. or maybe that's another piece of symbolism i haven't quite figured out.

you bring up a good point about gender roles here in regards to wakaba too. cooking is traditionally a woman's role in a lot of cultures, which makes it interesting that anthy, who as the rose bride is supposedly meant to be the ideal bride/wife not only cannot cook very well, but, according to touga, should not cook at all? i guess that ties back to the agency thing, though. but does wakaba have a lot of agency? she has a certain degree of freedom, at least, that comes with not being tied up in the main narrative most of the time. i'm not sure. i think food and cooking is one of the (many) things within this show that does not have one specific meaning that can be used to interpret everything related to it. i suppose my conclusion is that cooking can be both a limiting role if it's forced on you (in the sense of "you need to cook well to make for a good wife which is of course something you should want to be"), and something liberating if you do it for yourself. it's also just kind of a necessary survival skill, which is why it's so telling that anthy doesn't have it.

surprisingly enough i've never really posted about utena's food talk in episode 33 or how it may or may not play into this symbolism, so i guess i'll take this as an opportunity to do that. first, during the othello game, she talks about messing up measurements when cooking, and about the flavor coming out wrong. "you can't undo it once it's done." this shows her worries about what is happening/what will happen, and is already hinting at her regret afterward. it's a metaphor, but it also kind of ties into the agency symbolism. it tells us that utena is not very good at cooking either, and hints at the similarities between her and anthy. later she talks about what to make for lunch the next day. she's rambling, trying to distract herself, dissociating, and i don't tend to read a lot into what specifically she's saying. that's not really what's important. however, i do think it's signicant that she's bringing up anthy, for one, but mostly that she's talking about something urgent she needs to do that isn't here. she's making excuses to go home, to stop. if you buy the cooking as agency thing, utena's worry about the food going bad could once again reflect her worries and doubts about the whole thing. is there symbolism to the fact that she specifically brings up salmon and eggs and asparagus and sandwiches? maybe. but i think it's too easy to get caught up in all the little details and miss or ignore the bigger picture of what actually matters (very vaguely referring to an analysis of this scene that i hate. if you know you know.)

[dk-wren]

Buddy Daddies Week - Papa Rei's Onigiris

Welcome to Day 6 of my Buddy Daddies anniversary celebration week! I am so excited for today (even though it got a little delayed) as I present to you...my attempt at Rei's onigiris from ep. 9!

In all honesty, it's something I've been wanting to do for a long time. And I'm so glad I finally had the time and special occasion to do it! Since episode 9 premiered, I always thought Rei's choice of filling sounded different, but good. Maybe that just says something about my taste buds/food preferences. I don't know.

Anyways, the three fillings I used in my onigiri were based on what Miri, Hinata, and Kotori described in theirs. So, I used strawberry jam, Choco Rings (aka chocolate Cheerios), and grape gummies. I don't think it was specified what flavor of gummies was in Kotori's onigiri, but based on what I thought would taste or pair the best, I went with grape.

Here are my "ingredients:"

I made about a half a cup(?) of rice and was able to make 5 rice balls (of varying sizes). In the end, I made 2 rice balls with Choco rings, 2 with the grape gummy, and 1 with strawberry jam. Here's a cross section of a rice ball with Choco rings as I was attempting to shape it.

After I finished making/shaping the onigiris, I let them sit for an hour to cool down before putting the nori on it.

And finally...the finished product!

But how did they taste, you might ask? Well I got you!

I tried the Choco rings onigiri first because that was the one I thought I would like the best. In all honesty, I was a little let down. I think it was a personal/"chef" error because I forgot to let the rice cool down before making them. As a result, the cereal got soggy, so it didn't have a crunch, which would have added to the its distinctness. Likewise, because it got soggy, I think the cereal lost most of its flavoring since I snacked on some beforehand and could definitely taste the chocolate flavoring. There was a bit of sweetness when taking a bite with a large concentration of the cereal, but otherwise the cereal to rice ratio was not that great (and I was left mostly with rice with a hint of sweetness). Final ranking - 3rd

The second one I tried was the strawberry jam onigiri, which I thought would be my least favorite. Perhaps it was because I was let down by the choco ring one, but this was one ended up being my second favorite. This onigiri was on the larger side, but I was able to (unintentionally) spread the jam more evenly across the whole rice ball. This meant every bite had a bit of sweetness to it, and towards the center, I could really taste the strawberry flavor. What was even better was when I got a bite of the rice, nori, and jam. The flavors of each part mixed pretty well and created a pleasant taste.

The last onigiri I tried was the grape gummy one. This one ended up being my favorite. The ratio of rice to gummy was really good, and the grape flavor was really strong. That being said, because of consistency of the gummy compared to the rice, I was left with more gummy at the end of my bite.

Final Ranking:

Grape gummy onigiri

Strawberry jam onigiri

Choco Ring onigiri

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Thank you for reading about my attempt to recreate Papa Rei's onigiris and indulging in my chaos with me! I genuinely had such a fun time doing this.

On another note, based on my personal struggles/difficulties that came up while making these, I can somewhat understand how the rice balls got their shape. If Rei made them with the inexperience I did, he might have not waited for the rice to cool before making the rice balls. Thus, trying to make them round or give it any type of shape became difficult. Likewise, each topping messed with the shape in comparison to how much rice there was for that specific onigiri.

Thank you again for reading and following along as I attempt to cook/make something (I am not a cook by any means and I think everything above supports that claim)!

-Dakota Wren

[hazbincalifornia]

Ghostfuckers: Surprise

Another entry in the 'episodes but blitzpreg' fic collection!

Summary: Blitz buries his sorrows- and something else- in junk food.

Ao3 link

He was fine. He was fine! He was peachy-fucking-keen, he was Coping with a capital C, he hadn’t snuck back into the palace and yanked all the fancy silk curtains out of the rods or pissed all over them, so really, he was the picture of restraint.

The ice cream helped. Gallons of it, some of it half-melted so it had to be chugged by the time he actually got to it since sometimes he had multiple containers at once, but it helped soothe his heart and his stomach, and he’d count soothing anything as a victory, especially as heartbreak apparently came with a sore back and occasional upchucking when he let his brain marinate on feathers too much. 

(Fuck, he still saw that cockbag with the douchey haircut when he closed his eyes too long, so he cranked up the volume on the tv.)

Granted, the ice cream wasn’t exactly helping his waistline, but it wasn’t like he needed abs right now, considering there wasn’t an owl anywhere in the vicinity to ogle over them. Who cared if his pants were a little tight for a few hours days weeks, he needed the sugar and the spice and the sweetness, even if that creamy goodness wasn’t the same as the sticky white-

(Blitz reached for the spray cheese instead and funneled it directly into his mouth, the tangy chemicals mixing with the distilled peppers that were blended in with the cream. It satisfied something deep in his gut, and that was good. He’d take it, even though sometimes the mixing of flavors and emotions knotted things up and forced them right back up again.)

He found himself rutting against the underside of the carton, hormones oozing restlessly throughout his bloodstream as Millie stepped around the chain. As he flicked away the empty container and reached for some chocolate instead, he heard ‘ghost’ and something in his brain went ping.

(The rest of the day did not go as well as his brain had wanted it to, belly aching from the excessive movement after weeks of barely hauling his ass off the blankets and pillows to piss and the Bethany costume not fitting quite right. Even giving some grace with his food baby, the pricks must have undersized it.)

_____

He squirmed in the seat, feeling newly-materialized fingers trail along the bump in his middle that had for some reason decided to hitch along for the ride. When the chains tightened, something in him squirmed like a trapped rat even before the highlight reel of every insecurity he had was pinned down and flayed open.

The fire, Dad, Fizz, Verosika, M+M, Stolas, Stolas, Stolas-

“Oh, this is delicious,” the parasite purred, slipping around the spikes on Blitz’s chair to plant a foot on his bloated middle. “You don’t even know, do you?”

“Know wha…” The tears poured hot and thick, but he attempted to blink them away as the screen fluttered, the images flashing through at a rapid pace. Some were the same- Loona in LA, Barbie at the human camp, Stolas offering up the Crystal like it was a fucking ring- but some were different. Burning Chaz’s rental jacket when he got home because of how vile it had smelled, barfing into one of the empty ice cream cartons, curling up in the blankets and pillows, a strip of white and red skin exposed from the bottom of his too-tight shirt-

No.

No.

“Yes, yes,” The infestor practically sang as his heel traced down to the side of his stomach, and the bile in Blitz’s stomach bubbled into acid as he realized just how firm that little bump actually was. “Surprise, Daddy. Who could have thought you’d manage to ruin someone’s life before they even hit the starting gate?”

“You- I-”

“I didn’t do shit. I just got here! This mess was all on you.” His toe of his shoe hooked the bottom of Blitz’s shirt and tugged it upwards, exposing the bump as a pulsing heartbeat pounded the walls of the theater, and Blitz found himself unable to look away as the screen flashed faster and faster. A lifetime of regrets, broken chances, fuckups, fuckups, fuckups-

“Blitz? Blitz!” The screen shuddered before cutting to Millie, and he tugged at the chains but couldn’t pull far enough to escape his own head.

Insults spat from his mouth while his body writhed around like a fish on a hook, shit he’d never say to her but she just might believe because he’s such a piece of shit, and every time he tried to pull back to reality he could feel the exposed skin of his stomach growing damp from the clammy brain-room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, how didn’t he notice, what would he do, he had no time to fucking think-

He felt his arms ache as she manhandled them, and oh, Millie, that beautiful, wonderful bitch, she wasn’t falling for it. Thank Satan, she was smarter than-

Oh fuck.

She slammed him into the wall and oh fuck no, no, no no no, they couldn’t go like this, not when he hadn’t even gotten the chance to-

A glow flashed on the screen as the infestor rubbed at his sore cheek with a snarl, and Blitz’s stolen eyes dropped down to see Millie’s fist hit air, magic blooming around his middle. Her eyes widened for a moment before flicking up and socking him in the chest again, and the crunch that echoed combined with a pained moan was the sweetest sound he’d heard all day.

_______

“…So how long have you known about the baby?” Millie’s voice was careful as she shifted on the van’s roof.

“About twenty seconds before you did,” Blitz said. “Figured it was just…y’know…”

“Eating your emotions?”

“Yeah. That.”

“I’m glad I didn’t hurt it, at least. Thank fuck for that magic thingamajiggy that popped up.” She reached over and intertwined her fingers with hers, giving a quick squeeze. “You know what you wanna do with it?”

“I found out I was pregnant when he was Clockwork Oranging me, I need to think on it for a few minutes first,” Blitz said, tail twisting against the metal.

There was quiet for a moment as wind whispered through the gravestones. 

“It’s his, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I told the shark he had to go in wrapped from my stash or I wasn’t playing. Besides, I doubt anybody else would have some kinda built-in magic shield to keep them from getting pummeled.” Her hand was nice. Warm and comfortable, but rough enough from a life of work that it didn’t feel like his scars were too much, didn’t feel like he was going to scrape her skin off with the contact as their palms brushed together. “Maybe birds just… take a while to show.”

“Maybe.” Her tail curled around his, lightly pinning it down from where it was anxiously twitching. Steady weight.

Tomorrow, he’d have to figure out where the fuck to go from here. Tomorrow, he’d have to figure out if he wanted to keep the nest in his office. Tomorrow, he’d decide on the future.

Today, he leaned into Millie and watched the sunrise.

[pearl484-blog]

On Roland Dupain

While my beta and I were discussing characters, Roland Dupain showed up, and I explained the common headcanon that he is racist to him. For those of you who have forgotten Roland, he is Marinette's grandfather, and in his intro episode, it is brought up that he has not visited his son, Tom Dupain-Cheng in quite some time. When Marinette asks around though, no one seems comfortable enough to explain to Marinette why. It isn't until after Marinette meets Roland that we learn the reason. He and Tom got into an argument after Tom used rice flour in a bread recipe.

Roland's explanation is "That's not how it's done!" and it's implied that Tom got the idea from Sabine, a first generation Chinese immigrant. So the fanon goes that Roland is actually racist towards Sabine and used the rice flour as an excuse. But my beta reader came up with a different explanation. What if he's autistic?

See, Roland is very resistant to change, and he hates to explain himself, besides just saying "that's not how it's done". It's presented as him being stuck in the past -and he is- but he also shows a lot of autistic traits.

For starters, when Roland is upset, he has a tendancy to repeat himself. "That's not how it's done" is his catchphrase for a reason. He also defaults to a customer service phrase while talking to Hawk Moth during his first akumatization. He also sings the exact same song every time he bakes, but that could be a habit to help him time himself and be consistent.

Roland is very self-isolating and dedicates himself 100% to baking. To the point where it seems to be his main obsession (his old tech is obselete and usually implied to be busted beyond repair, but he will not toss it). He clearly does not leave the house often as his akuma is startled -and frustrated by- technology that would seem mundane to most. He'll keep the same frustration at these changes even when he's acknowledging the tech is better for everyone, including himself.

When he's confused or frustrated, he never explains why very well, just has a massive freakout. These are all symptomatic of autism.

If he's autistic, it would explain why he freaked out over such a "minor thing". By changing the main ingredient in bread, Tom changed the texture and flavor to something very different than what Roland was used to and he didn't like it. So he freaked out, wouldn’t explain this "atrocity" to his tongue (ie, a texture/flavor that repulsed him) and might have even assumed Tom would know what he did. This would've been especially bad if Tom interfered with Roland's primary fixation.

In Tom and everyone else's eyes, Roland freaked out over nothing, but in Roland's eyes, Tom messed with baking -his hyperfixation- and made something he hated and assumed everyone else would hate, then had the GALL to stand by his abomination to baking- Serious Business for Roland.