#that they just brought the egg in for a season

[thepurplebow]

What if grian found the egg from the dsmp?

Unfiltered(?) And solid black lineart:

[vampiefemme]

a soft n smutty piece for fall coziness… <3 the changing seasons always make me feel melancholic and i feel like ellie would take care of r if she was the same :)

tw: depression, nsfw, 18+ only

the sun filters into your bedroom through the half-drawn curtains, a warm glow that paints everything golden. you stretch out under the covers, hand reaching for sunlight, palm open against the blankets as warmth envelops your fingers. numb with cold, you defrost.

even as your hand soaks in the warmth of the sun, guilt twists inside you, ice cold. the phone in the kitchen has rung out three separate calls today, shrill and blaring in the silence of your apartment; you've melted too deep into the mattress to answer. the kitchen may as well be miles away.

she’s probably worried, you fret. what if she thinks i’m dead? i need to call her back.

but as much as you want to force yourself to leave the comfort of your duvet, the you-shaped crater in the bed, you can’t do it. you just can’t.

you’re not surprised when you hear the sounds of your girlfriend’s arrival, ellie’s key scraping the lock before she swings the door open. you’d given her your spare key months ago. she’d only used it on days like this.

you hear the rustle of plastic, the harried zips and thumps of ellie removing her boots at the front door. and then she’s appearing in your doorway, her face twisted with worry; brows drawn together, lips turned downward. she looks heartbroken.

“baby,” she says, voice tinged with a cocktail of equal parts relief and concern, “god, i thought you were—”

“dead?” you interject. your voice softens when you add, “i’m okay, el. i’m sorry i didn’t pick up the phone.”

“no, it’s okay, don’t worry.” she pads over the worn carpet, plastic bag crinkling at her side as she approaches you on the bed. “i brought breakfast.”

she holds up the bag for emphasis; you can see three to-go boxes inside. the smell of hash browns and scrambled eggs and pancakes wafts out towards you, and you hate the way it makes your mouth water. she knows breakfast is your favorite. you can hardly resist it, even this late in the day, as the sun sets outside your window.

“thank you.” you smile up at her. it’s forced—it doesn’t meet your eyes. she notices, because she always does.

“you don’t have to eat right now,” she clarifies. hazel eyes swoop over the bed, appraising the blankets splayed out over you in disarray, and she hesitates. you hold out your hand for her in encouragement. “come here, ellie.”

so she does. she sets the bag of breakfast food on the nightstand, then climbs over you with a clumsiness that seeps through her caution. you smile. genuinely. and then she’s kissing you, soft lips pressed to yours as her auburn locks tickle your cheeks. the kiss is gentle and languid, slow and soft and encouraging. she tastes like home, and you realize you’ve been aching for this feeling all day, body numb in the confines of your bedroom. you lose yourself in her kiss, sighing deep through your nose. her tongue is warm and wet against your lower lip; she works your mouth open and licks into you, sending heat rushing to your belly where it pools like molten gold.

you’ve found yourself in a haze lately: a fog so thick that it blurs out all feeling, leaving you spent in the silence of your apartment even after days of doing nothing. days of just thinking.

but ellie breaks through the fog as her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing soothingly over the apples of your cheeks. her tongue slides deliciously over yours and you moan without thinking. she freezes for just a moment. she draws back and you nearly whine, eyes barely opening to peer up into his.

“we don’t have to do anything,” she assures you as she leans forward to kiss the bridge of your nose. “not if you’re feeling down.”

your heart swells with affection for her: her disheveled hair, her soft gaze, her flushed lips swollen from kissing. her consideration for you. her love.

“but i want to,” you breathe. “i want it, ellie.”

so she disappears into the crook of your neck, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver rocking through you as she presses kisses to your sensitive skin. each kiss gets more heated, her lips parting to suckle on the flesh right over your pulse. you moan and she pauses before murmuring against your throat, “are you sure?”

you nod almost frantically. “i’m sure, i’m sure.”

it doesn’t take long for her to undress you, which you’re grateful for. she works your shirt off and rolls your panties down your thighs, her hands smoothing back up over the supple skin.

on days like this, when you’re hardly afloat in the tidal wave of your melancholy, she tends to hold you with gentle wariness, as if you’d shatter if she moved too quickly. and you love it. the obvious adoration in her gentleness, in the need to take things slow.

but you decide you don’t want that today.

when her face is within reach again, you pull her in for a heated kiss. it quickly evolves into all tongue and spit and teeth, your lips smacking audibly as you trail your hands down her sides. you grip the soft cotton of her shirt and slowly pull it upwards, exposing inch by inch of pale, freckled skin, and when your fingers brush over her ribs, you feel the slow shudder that afflicts her. her body responding so instantly to your touch makes you dizzy with arousal; that pool of heat in your stomach grows ever-larger. it doesn’t help that she’s touching you too, the calloused pads of her fingers delicious against your skin. she grips and squeezes you in all the right places, drawing sharp breaths and high moans from your throat as her hands explore every inch of you.

suddenly, it’s hard to remember what came before this. the haze that had lingered over you for days. all you can think about is the feeling of ellie’s body against yours, her jeans scratchy as she rocks her hips down to yours. you hook your legs around her waist, bare cunt desperate for friction, even through a layer of denim.

you pull back from rushed, sloppy kisses to gasp at the sensation—you shamelessly rub yourself against her through her jeans, unable to find it in you to worry about the mess you’re making. ellie watches you in awe, your eyes half-lidded as your hips roll upward, your pretty lips parted in a delicate “o” shape.

“fuck it,” she rasps, and she’s lurching back to sit up on her heels, ripping her clothes off in a blur of fabric. her shirt falls off first, and then she works her way out of her jeans, so eager she stumbles a few times. you beam at her, eyes clouded with lust, and when she finds her way back between your legs, the feeling of her bare skin against yours has you gushing impossibly wetter. you find yourself in the same position as before, only now without the barrier of ellie’s clothes between you. you grind yourself up against her, twitching and gasping each time her pelvis glides over your clit; you can feel how wet you are, how messy you’re leaving her. and she can feel it, too, evident each time she moves her hips against yours and moans with her head tucked against your shoulder.

your impatience is a balloon that’s been filled and filled and filled, and it finally pops. you reach between your writhing bodies to ellie’s cunt; her teeth close around your shoulder when you give her clit a few slow strokes, fingertips pressing hard into the bundle of nerves. she soothes her bite with her tongue and then laughs under her breath, uttering lowly, “i’m sorry, fuck, just feels good.”

you hum in response, pausing to reach into the nightstand drawer, where you keep a harness and strap for situations like this. she draws in a shaky breath, turning her head to kiss your neck again, tongue circling your skin before she pulls back to slip into the harness. then she’s back on you, pulling you in for another heated kiss as she drags the tip of the strap through your folds and up to the bud of your clit. you’re soaked everywhere, and her cock feels so smooth as it glides effortlessly over you; you’re barely breathing.

ellie’s voice is in your ear, quiet but thick with lust. “let me eat you out first.”

and it sounds amazing, it really does. any other time, you’d relent, let her mouth at your cunt for hours until you’re so fucked-out you can’t think straight. but that’s not what you need right now.

“i need you inside me,” you tell her, voice low and sultry, almost unrecognizable from its usual timbre. ellie hears it, too, the husk in your tone making her grit her teeth with a low, gravelly moan. “shit, baby—can’t say no to that.”

she slides into you so easily, your cunt opening smoothly around her as she pushes in to the hilt. you both sigh in pleasure, you at the feeling of being so deliciously full, her at the satisfaction of watching your expression dissolve into pure bliss.

“so fuckin’ wet, goddamn,” ellie murmurs. she draws back only to fuck into you again, and you whine when she brushes up against the end of you. the spot that only she can find. that only spurs her on—she starts fucking you in earnest without much buildup, too pent up to be patient and slow and intentional. she knows what you want, you realize, flooded with arousal as her hips slam into yours. her strap drags perfectly through you, so deep you see stars behind fluttering eyelids.

“ellie,” you moan, brows pinched together, mouth hanging open.

she doesn’t slow down, skin smacking against skin as she fucks herself into you. “what do you need, baby? i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you anything.”

another moan tears out of your throat at her words, your arms moving up to snake around her neck and reel her in for another sloppy kiss. “more,” you gasp, your foreheads pressed together, slick with sweat. “more, please, more.”

ellie gives you one last, searing kiss, then pulls back to readjust. she stills inside you while she grabs hold of your legs, palms squeezing the doughy flesh of your thighs before she pushes them toward your chest. your knees are up by your shoulders like this, and you reach your hands around to support yourself, though your own touch can’t rival her. “good girl,” she praises when she notices what you’re doing, allowing your hands to replace her. she instead brings her attention to your hips, holding them still while she pulls almost all the way out and fucks back into you. and it’s rougher, now, more intentional. ellie moves faster, harder; you cry out a blissful oh my god, tears burning in your eyes from the sheer pleasure of it.

this is it—this is what you needed. and ellie gives it to you exactly how you want it, her body smacking against your ass and the backs of your thighs, her cock hitting that sweet spot within you so rhythmically that you find your brain is entirely empty. the ceaseless noise in your head has quieted, in its place is sheer pleasure.

your release sneaks up on you; you’re not thinking straight, overwhelmed with lust and the warmth it floods through your veins. you come suddenly but with so much force it nearly knocks the wind out of you. squirming and shaking under ellie’s towering form, your cunt spasms around the silicon cock and she groans out in delight.

spent, ellie lowers her weight on you, still careful not to crush you beneath her. you’re both catching your breath, but she can’t drive away the urge to kiss you. slower, this time. more loving.

“hey,” she says, “i love you.”

you smile against her lips, giving her another few pecks before you tell her, “i love you too.”

her arms are warm, lithe, and strong around you, holding you as close as she can. but when you start to wiggle underneath her, she groans in disapproval.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i just—i really wanna eat some pancakes.”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N participates in the Disgusting Food Roulette video and ends up having to take care of Matt.

WARNING: Feeling sick in the stomach.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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"I really need to participate?" Y/N asked as she ran her eyes over the triplets. She had her hips resting on the table, where various types of food, sweets, and drinks were displayed.

"It'll be cool! And Matt needs the emotional support." Nick joked, lightly patting Matt's right shoulder, who was looking at the food with a disgusted look.

“It’s not like you won’t do well, Y/N.” Chris scoffed, crossing his arms, before looking at the camera. "She is the only person in the world who isn't fussy about any food. Anything you give her, she will eat it."

The girl rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh while shaking her head. It was true that she wasn't fussy about food, but that didn't hold back the shiver that ran up her spine every time she looked at some of the items on the table.

Raw egg? Easy cheese? She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about the taste of them against her tongue.

"As you can see, we have four separate piles of food here. Y/N didn't buy the food of her side since we decided she would participate when we were already at the grocery store." Matt explained while gesturing to the separated piles.

"Exactly, so we bought the food for her." Nick finished with a smirk on his face, arranging the items in a row.

"They put me in a mess, guys. I didn't even know what foods they would buy, now I regret even getting out of bed." Y/N grumbled miserably, helping the boys open all the product packaging.

Nick rolled his eyes at her drama, quickly explaining about the app they would use to choose who would go in turn.

"Let's begin!"

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"Please, don't be me. Please, don't be me." Nick speaks repeatedly with a frown on his face, his right hand over his mouth while his left index finger pressed the screen of his phone.

Y/N let out a laugh at him, also pressing her finger on the screen, along with Chris and Matt. Matt's right arm was around her shoulder as he took deep breaths, trying to calm the strong, disgusting taste that was settling in his mouth.

The girl watched him momentarily from the corner of her eye, checking if he was well within the limit, feeling his hand squeezing her biceps lightly.

Chris's excited scream caught her attention abruptly, her eyes traveling to the screen. Her finger had been chosen to eat the yellow pepper.

She stared at the pepper for a few seconds, the triplets' laughter sounding like a background sound to her ears.

"Wait, isn't that the yellow pepper we use as seasoning?" Y/N asked, taking some steps away from Matt and the boys and finally picking up the food, twirling it between her fingers.

"I don't know. It doesn't matter, just eat it!" Nick pressed, looking at her expectantly.

Matt watched her closely, pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter, supporting his own weight against the table with his left arm.

The girl shrugged. If her theory was right, that was one of her favorite peppers. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit off a small piece, chewing carefully as she felt the taste and burn settle on her tongue.

"Um, not too strong. It's good." Y/N commented, still chewing, swallowing seconds later.

"You're crazy, entirely." Chris shook his head repeatedly, taking steps away from her as if she was mad.

Matt observed her with widened eyes, surprised by her little reaction.

"Put it there." Nick pointed to the counter next to the stove where they were piling up the food they had already eaten, his face showing a disgusting look. "Next!"

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"It's going to be Chris, I can feel it." Y/N muttered, her eyes fixed on the phone as their four index fingers pressed the screen.

The back of Matt's right shoulder was resting against her chest, while her free hand stroked his hair gently. She knew he was about to get sick, so she was trying to stay as close to him as possible.

"Oh no!" Chris shouted, bringing his right hand to his head in a sign of desperation after seeing the result.

"Yes!" Matt celebrated, turning around and hugging Y/N, jumping up and down in place. His sudden movements made her lose her balance, taking them both to the ground.

Y/N had her mouth open and eyes closed as laughter escaped her lips at her boyfriend's euphoria. She couldn't believe his happiness just because he wasn't chosen to eat the yogurt.

Matt screamed in celebration, hugging Y/N tightly. Nick told him to lower his voice due to the hour, but he was completely ignored.

"He is crazy." Chris commented, pointing to the two on the floor as he shook his head, letting out a laugh, momentarily forgetting what he had to eat.

Nick took the camera off the tripod, focusing the lens on the couple, capturing the perfect image of Y/N with her back against the cold floor and Matt with half his body over hers, his arms encircling her torso and his head buried in the curve of her neck, sounds of laughter echoing from there.

Fans would go crazy over that.

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"No!" Matt screamed, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He had been chosen to eat the red pepper.

Y/N winced, her eyes going from her boyfriend to the pepper and back again. Before she could say anything encouraging, Matt picked up the food and bit off half of it.

"Matt! Are you crazy? This is very spicy. Spit it in the trash! Don't swallow it." Y/N yelled, her eyes wide. She put her hands on Matt's shoulders, guiding him to the trash can.

"Spit it out, Matt." Chris repeated, recording his brother's steps with the camera.

Y/N pressed the pedal to the trash can, opening the lid and patting her boyfriend's shoulder as he spat. She bit her lower lip in worry as she noticed his face start to turn red, his eyes filling with tears.

"Oh, baby. Breathe." She asked calmly, guiding him to the front of the table again, her hands resting on his waist, squeezing the covered skin lightly.

"Oh my God, it's so hot." Matt agonized, fanning his face with his right hand. "My lips-"

Chris and Nick laughed at his reaction, taking their fingers to the phone again, wanting to end the video quickly.

"Come on, guys!" Nick called, pushing Y/N's hips with his own - since she was closer to him -, getting her attention.

The girl took Matt's right hand and guided it to the phone, placing him index finger on the screen and then her own, keeping her eyes fixed on her boyfriend's face. Droplets of sweat started to appear on his forehead as his cheeks burned red, and Y/N was ready to get him out of there if necessary.

Chris was chosen next to eat the jelly, and Matt took advantage of the situation to walk around a little, wanting to alleviate the burning sensation in his mouth.

Y/N quickly followed him, helping him drink the water that was still in his hands, despite knowing it wouldn't help much.

"Do you want some milk, my love?" She asked quietly so the camera wouldn't catch it. Matt shook his head, feeling his stomach churn at the thought of adding milk to the horrendous mix of all the things he had eaten.

The boy seemed disoriented, his head hurt, and his tongue burned. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulling the door open and opening his mouth, momentarily exhaling in the cold air, before closing it again.

"Come, love." Y/N pulled him closer to the phone again, intertwining their free hands and squeezing his fingers with her own lightly.

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"Are you okay?" Chris asked, approaching and touching Matt's shoulder. His words sounded worried, even though he was still laughing.

Matt nodded as he drew in puffs of air through his open mouth, a multi-layered piece of colby-jack cheese pressed to his right cheek. Y/N watched him from the side, feeling helpless.

"It's not helping." He shouted, leaning on Nick momentarily and blinking his eyes repeatedly, watching Y/N eat the second to last content.

His heart raced when it was the app's turn to choose who would eat the last item, the raw egg.

"If Matt's chosen, I'll eat for him." Y/N quickly imposed, pressing her finger on the screen and staring intently at it.

"This is not how it works." Chris muttered, bumping his shoulder against hers playfully.

"Fuck the rules." She shrugged, sighing in relief when she saw the app choose Nick.

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"Matt, what was the worst that you ate?" Chris asked, bringing the camera closer to Matt, who was opening the fridge.

The boy ignored him, leaning forward slightly and bringing his mouth under the water filter, taking long sips. Y/N let out a low laugh as she saw Chris frown at not receiving any response, rubbing her boyfriend's back softly.

Matt closed the fridge doors, taking some steps back and resting his arms on the table as he took a deep breath, feeling all the food rise up his throat. He swallowed hard, straightning up and looking at Chris behind the camera, his own eyes filling with tears.

"I'm going to bed." His voice was broken. He turned and walked quickly to his shared room with Y/N, receiving a light slap on the back from Nick.

"Okay, he's going to bed."

Y/N let out a nasal laugh, shaking her head. She quickly walked to the cupboard next to the stove, taking a glass. She opened the fridge, taking a bottle of ice cold water and pouring some milk into the glass, closing the door with her hip.

"I'll take care of him." She told the boys, blowing an air kiss to the lens before walking to their bedroom, balancing the items in her hands, Nick and Chris' voices speaking with the camera falling behind.

The girl turned the door handle with her elbow, slowly entering the room and closing it again behind her back.

Her eyes traveled around momentarily, the lights were off, making it difficult to see anything. She squinted her eyes and quickly found her boy laying on the bed in a fetal position, approaching him in slow steps.

Y/N placed the milk and water on the bedside table and squatted down, resting her arms on the mattress. She brought her right hand to Matt's hair, gently brushing the loose strands out of his eyes. Her fingers caressing his warm skin.

"Honey? What are you feeling?" She asked in a low tone, not wanting to heighten her boyfriend's senses. Her heart sank at the way Matt seemed to be in discomfort, his eyes were closed tightly and his brow was furrowed, his shoulders tense.

"Stomach pain. My tongue is still burning and I'm hot on the insides and cold on the outside." The boy explained, his voice sounding weak followed by him sniffling.

"Come here, baby. Let me help you." Y/N asked gently, standing up from her crouched position and helping Matt sit up slowly.

Her hands grabbed the hem of the black t-shirt that covered his torso, pulling it up slowly, helping him take it off his arms and head, placing it aside on the mattress to fold later.

Y/N quickly grabbed the air conditioning remote that was next to the items she brought, turning it on and setting it to 18°C. Not so cold, but refreshing.

She put the remote back in place and picked up the milk, sitting on the edge of the bed and raising the glass so Matt could see what it was, receiving a whine in response.

"I know it might seem gross to drink milk after everything you've eaten, but it will help lessen the burn from the pepper, baby." Y/N spoke calmly, bringing the glass closer to Matt's face. "You ate a large amount. If we don't alleviate it now, this burning sensation will continue for several hours, sweetheart."

The boy sighed before wrapping both of his hands around Y/N's, who was still holding the glass for fear of Matt dropping it since his hands were shaking. He took it to his lips and closed his eyes tightly, tilting the glass and taking a small sip.

Y/N encouraged him with small whispers, pushing his hair back with her free hand, freeing his forehead from the heat of his strands.

Matt put the glass down after a few sips, pushing it closer to her, showing that he didn't want any more. He removed his hands from around Y/N's, allowing her to put it down.

The girl placed it on the bedside table again, watching her boyfriend's reactions.

"Do you think you're going to throw up? Or are you okay, and it's just the burning?"

"No, I'm not going to throw up, I just want to sleep." The boy responded weakly, lowering his torso onto the bed again, feeling the duvet pressing against his back. He turned onto his side, pressing his right hand to his exposed stomach. "Come lie down with me, please."

"I will, my love. Just let me take this glass to the kitchen, and I'll be right back." Her tone was low.

She leaned her body over his, sealing his cold forehead with her warm lips for a few seconds before pulling away and rising from the bed. She took the glass again, pushing the water bottle closer to the bed before taking steps towards the exit.

"I love you." She heard Matt whisper before closing the door behind her. A huge smile decorated her face as she felt her heart race.

She would do anything to make him feel better and Matt knew that.

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extra - comments:

"I seriously thought Matt would throw up everything 😭"

"omg Matt is CRAZY for eating half of a red pepper without a second thought 🤡"

"Y/N worrying about Matt is so cute 🥺"

"the way Y/N kept looking at Matt all the time, making sure he was okay 😔 I love them so much"

"Matt almost dying, Y/N worried sick and Chris and Nick laughing until their next generation was the best thing I saw today"

"Matt and Y/N on the floor laughing their asses off is my new romain empire 🧎‍♀️"

"Matt saying 'I'm going to bed' after a traumatic experience is totally me for real"

"can we take a minute to appreciate Y/N eating the yellow pepper like it was chocolate? WHAT A WOMAN GUYS!!!! 🤤"

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[ltwilliammowett]

Cooking like a Sailor- Frisian teatime

Today it's going to be a bit Friesian again and this time the delicious treats come mainly from the North Sea islands and Halligen, where they usually originated before they floated ashore and were eaten or drunk there.

Now that we are approaching autumn with great strides, there are such delicacies. This was the time when many of the seafaring men returned home, which meant a rich harvest of specialities from foreign countries and often also the weddings were hold which were arranged the year before.

But let's start with the drink: tea punch, just the thing for the wet and cold season when it's stormy and raining outside.

Ingredients: Black tea, köm and kluntjes (brown sugar candy).

But even more important than the right ingredients are the way it is prepared and consumed. If you are in a hurry, you have no place at the tea punch table!

The tea punch is served as follows: The teapot is placed on the teapot warmer and the pre-heated bottle of Köm is placed on the table. Don't be surprised: the tea punch cups are tiny. This has nothing to do with stinginess, but with cosiness. And this is how it works: Pour tea into the cup, add a dash of köm and sugar to taste. Listen to the Kluntjes crack, stir and drink hot. Have a chat and then top up again.

This drink has existed on the islands since 1735, when a ship with tea chests stranded off Amrum at Theeknobs, although at the beginning there was no knowledge of how to prepare the tea leaves. As a result, the tea was drunk quite thinly, which was also due to the fact that tea was something special that was not always available, just like schnapps. Köm is a spirit similar to aquavit with caraway seeds. The yellow (geele) Köm is particularly common in the North Frisian region. This is a spirit, usually made with grain, which is mixed with caraway and sometimes with a hint of aniseed.

The tea punch was of course also known on ships, but here the köm was swapped for rum and the punch was used to warm up rather than for chatting. Sailors preferred to do this on land.

What do you serve with tea? Hallig Knorken or Friesenwaffeln are best. This wafer-thin delicacy has been around since the 16th century thanks to the Dutch who settled in northern Germany. They were light waffles that were made with rum and then served with plum jam and cream. Again, these delicacies were either brought by the men or had to be bartered or bought on the land, as the islands and Halligen did not have huge areas of land available for agriculture and so there was a lot of trade with the delicacies from the sea.

Ingredients for 4 people (this is the modern recipe) 4 eggs 200g sugar 250g butter 300g flour 3-4 tsp. cornflour 50ml rum 1 packet of vanilla sugar 1 pinch of salt

Bake the waffles in an iron and then serve hot with plum jam and cream.

Now we come to the highlight of every festive table - the Friesentorte. This magnificent cake is truly a precious piece. Because it requires valuable ingredients that were not always available back then and were therefore more likely to be found on festive tables. It is not known when it has been around, but probably since the 19th century, thanks to the sailors who brought many recipes with them from other countries. Like puff pastry, for example.

Today's variations also work with shortcrust pastry, but are not the original recipe

Recipe

Bake two puff pastry bases (you can use ready-made pastry) Brush one of the bases (the top) with egg yolk and sprinkle with caster sugar Leave the second (base) plain After baking, spread the base generously with plum jam Spread not too little whipped cream on the plum jam base Cut the top into 12 even pieces and then arrange the pieces on top.

The wealthier the family the more the cake would consist of several layers. Which made eating even more complicated, because how do you eat this monster without smearing cream all over your face? Well, you take the lid off, eat the inside and nibble the lid separately.

So there you have it and I wish you a delicious tea time of a different kind. Enjoy your tea and your tasty treats like real Frisians.

[jaehaeryshater]

In 60 AC, the first egg of the latest clutch laid by Vhagar hatched. At the age of 112, Vhagar was already a seasoned mother. Vhagar was an adequate mother by all accounts, but up until then, a hands off and tough love type. She made no fuss until Caraxes hatched from his egg. Born with a birth defect, he at first had a hard time flying or even walking. Vhagar was extremely attentive, always nuzzling and “talking” to him, making sure he was alright. Caraxes, always the performer, soaked up the attention of his mother. He always yipped at her and followed her around, none the wiser of her concern or his defect.

beautiful commission by the lovely @moonwyvern

I haven’t shared my dragon family tree on here yet, but I firmly set Caraxes as the offspring of Balerion and Vhagar. This is for a few reasons; first off, they are one of only two canon mated pairs at this time. Second, I believe the theory that Caraxes’s neck is not due to genetics but rather a congenital mutation caused by environmental factors picked up in Valyria by Balerion. Not sure how that would work exactly, but it’s a cool theory. All that to say, it definitely is a punch to the gut that Caraxes and Vhagar were made to kill each other. There was a time, in my opinion, that Vhagar felt instinctual “love” for her hatchling, and I wanted to show that. We also usually see Vhagar as blood thirsty and a war dragon, and she is, but my goal was to represent that she’s just an animal at the end of the day, and to show a softer side of her in more peaceful times (also the idea that dragon naturally have a bond with their offspring, and how tragic it is that human beings severed those ties because they thought themselves above nature and more qualified to take care of the babies themselves). I also have an upcoming commission of Vhagar and her mate Balerion with hatchlings even earlier on in the timeline, so watch out for that. Vhagar has a special place in my heart, and I’m always here for more content.

Also, Vhagar was riderless at this time; if Visenya had taken away Caraxes it would have been easy, but I imagine when Jaehaerys proclaimed that they must take Caraxes away from her, she screamed and squalled and bit off the dragonkeeper’s hand and burned two others. I reckon the dragonkeepers always had a hard time taking babies away from their mothers, but an especially hard time in this case (pls pls somebody talk to me in my inbox if you want to talk dragonposting, I’m itching to talk about it).

Thank you so much to moonwyvern, they really brought my idea to life and their prices were extremely reasonable given the quality that I received. They were also very accommodating to feedback, and pleasant to work with. I am in awe of how they were able to portray exactly what I was going for. Vhagar usually looks mean or stern in artworks, but here she is curious and perhaps a little concerned, but mostly amused with her little one. Honestly, I’d recommend anybody looking for a dragon commission to go to this artist because they were great to work with and are quite versatile within their niche.

Bonus because the artist wanted to experiment with the dragonpit in the day versus night and the shadows that come with that

[jjmorelikeotp]

One thing about season 6 that is so sad is how Spike helped the gang all summer just for them to act like he never did. I mean, yeah, the obvious take is that they did not tell him they brought buffy back when he thought he was finally accepted by them, but also, when she did, he kinda gets pulled and pushed in an out of the whole scenario and it's so sad. It is also a little bit of bad writing like. If certain writers did not have a grudge against Spike, going by the natural flow of things, Spike would have been more integrated. He used to watch Dawn all the time, as we saw in the beginning of S6. And then suddenly he can't come in? He even CAN, we saw that at the birthday party, he just doesn't come in (6.15) because he respects Buffy's wish to not do so BUT that is exactly what makes no sense. Even Buffy trusted him to protect both Joyce and Dawn in S5. I mean yeah, it is probably just her trying to defend herself and keep him out because she is starting to realize her feelings, but just imagine how different this could have gone if she let Spike in.

Dawn would not have been so alone.

He literally offered financial support.

No meat palace. Passions on TV . Pizza nights and both of them learning to cook cuz more time when no meat palace, and no burgers.

And that might be my headcanon but Spike would be THE boyfriend you can go lingerie shopping with. Like sure he woudl rail her in the changing room and rip apart the fabric before paying it BUT before that he would totally go "oh not THAT color, love" and "that shape is much better. Look at that; that's silk, much better quality , and also, you have an hourglass body so this is the most flattering but of course I'm not complaining about any of them -"

Probably STILL both (or all of the scooby squad) of them fucking it up like Spike harvesting eggs to make money but at least they could rely on each other a lot more.

I should do a post on this seperately lol -

But yeah. One really frustrating part about S6 is how back and forth the logic goes. Anya & Xander literally invited random Demons to their wedding. AND invited Spike cuz then he suddenly is allowed to come into the building.

[b1asho]

Huzzahh, it's species number 3! (There's a total of 6, including humans. 7 if you count artificial intelligences, 8 if you count the uhh other intelligences).

An official up to date visual for everyone's favorite communist amphibians, the Kixeli, and some up-to-date info!! ->

Kixeli are a small sentient species hailing from a planet covered mostly in ocean. They are amphibious, and originally evolved to switch between swimming and climbing using their webbed hands and powerful arms.

Their skin is permeable, allowing them to extend their time underwater to hunt and gather as well as reproduce, but due to their larger body and brain size/oxygen needs this isn’t sustainable and they must return to the surface.

Alongside their frequent trips outside the water, they also have a mucus layer and several specialized glands (including in their face by their eyes) to help remove excess salt and change levels of urea in their body to help make sure they dont lose resources when in the ocean.

Kixeli are omnivorous, with a focus on fruits and sealife. many cultures have a preference against eating anything that lives above water, including birds and the like, because they see themselves as spiritual equals to those animals as fellow air breathers.

They are oviparous, and have a specific mating season.

Most Kixeli have multiple variable spawn partners and see it as strange to be nailed down to one. Anyone who participated lays their eggs in a communal tide pool carved out in their communities.

Hatchlings are entirely aquatic wirh gills until later months of age, where they will begin to poke their head above water for air and start interacting more with the adults around them, who feed them a nutritive crop milk as they have already absorbed most of their tail by now.

This period is also the beginning of their understanding of language.

Once they lose their tail and grow in their limbs, they are still mostly helpless until those fully develop and myst cling to a caretaker adult in the community (blood parents don’t necessarily always raise their own children, but as someone who laid eggs they are responsible for children as a caretaker so anyone who didn’t want eggs gets left alone).

During their puberty, they will develop adult skin markings, and some can even end up changing sexes (much for the same reason some of them grow gliding membranes, as the result of population and resources balance in their surroundings).

Speakijg of that, there are two categories of Kixeli in their communities: Kel (swimmer) and Arasit (flier).

Arasit are just a rare continuation of their life cycle, since most Kixeli kids end up growing into Kel adults.

Sometimes, though, an Arasit will develop in case the community strongly needs to seek out new territory over long distance (triggered by close proximity to many other Kixeli and a variety of other unknown gactors, like grasshoppers turnkng into locusts.) They can’t truly fly, but they can use the powerful ocean winds and even some launching technology to glide very far to scout new resources and other communities).

Arasit are highly celebrated as voyagers, but Kel are also valued as providers for their existing community and even accompany voyages on ships to help their Arasit stay alive.

Some Arasit will cut and cauterize their membranes to make it easier for them to swim to symbolize they are staying in the community, though usually, they just poke small holes in there so they can wear clothes and be sanitary.

Their blood uses the hemocyanin molecule to carry oxygen, making their blood a bright blue when oxygenated and a thin blue/clear when unoxygenated (so you can see the other warmish colored pigments in there when it’s inside them, that yellowish stuff)

Their ancestors dwelled in deeper, cooler water where this blood type was most advantageous, but a global warming period brought them up to warm waters and eventually above the surface to capitalize on resources.

During this process, they developed some ways to improve the molecule’s lower efficiency in the heat. For one, they kept a small body size so there’s less to deal with. Another thing is that they get oxygen (albeit a small amount) from all over their body constantly through their skin, also somewhat making up for it.

The main mechanism, though, is their metabolism/temperature. They can quickly adjust their metabolism depending on the oxygen conditions in their surroundings to prevent immediate failure if they don’t have access to the right conditions to otherwise cope (this, and along with hemocyanin’s natural ability to handle low oxygen and their skin breathing, means they can tolerate very low oxygen areas that would cause a human to faint, though they’ll typically be pretty out of commission too, and this can have longer lasting effects on their health from the whiplash.)

they use their surroundings for heat when they aren’t doing anything too strenuous, and because they aren’t really producing much of their own they can tolerate even higher temperatures that would normally put them out of commission (and they actually heavily rely on that heat for ease in a lot of other processes), to do anything that has bigger oxygen needs, they can dip into cooler water/shade for periods of higher activity (but can’t stay too cold for too long or else aforementioned other processes will shut down, though it does increase the effectiveness to the point where they can do a whole lot and allows them to swim/navigate cooler areas where their early competitors couldn’t return to, it only as long as they got back quickly and warmed up)

they basically swing between these two extremes but tend to stay at a warmish middle-ground, wearing heating pads on part of their body while still letting larger areas cool off, if that makes sense.

Hemocyanin’s other properties don’t automatically give them a longer life, in fact theirs is very short compared to other species, but it does make them resistant to cancers (a common threat on their sunny planet) and the spread of diseases in their dense communities

Being cold-blooded wasn’t a problem on their mostly tropical planet. It is a considerable problem once they left it, though, hence the heating pads most wear to warm up.

many also live in areas without a large body of water nearby (or an easy way to access said body of water) but still need to stay damp to maintain their music layer and trap oxygen, so many also carry spray bottles or wet rags with them to always stay damp.

Kixeli are highly social (with their name even roughly translating to "belonging together"). they rarely live in groups of less than 5.

They experience severe negative side effects from isolation. Their naturally intense empathy also makes it extremely damaging for them to see other Kixeli injured or dead, sometimes leading to their own death from shock if they were the one that did it (though this has not stopped wars over their scarce resources in the past, typically because that intense sense of kinship was naturally strongest towards those among their own community, and if Their community was suffering then they had to get rid of the source of it by any means. )

This period nearly drove them to extinction, and led to a Global Community movement that argued for intercommunity cooperation and the end of 'us and them thinking'.

Due to their sliminess, Kixeli normally keep clothing to a minimum and overall don’t have a need for it beyond temperature control and ornamentation.

They have none of their own social taboos about nakedness, having no external genitalia, but still often clothe themselves to the standards of others due to the pressure/need to be polite from other species.

They also have few class divides within their own communities, with everyone working for the good of the whole, and no sex/gender roles beyond squirter and egg layer since everyone cares for the eggs.

To humans, their language sounds like birdsong, with lots of repetitive noises and subtle shifts in pattern and tone.

Their unique vocalization makes their languages hard to learn and even harder to speak, but they themselves are incredible mimics (only surpassed in some ways by humans because lips and teeth).

The fin on their forehead is similar to eyebrows in communicating emotion or tone. They can see a similar color spectrum to humans and love bright contrasting colors similar to their own skin patterns.

They favor “fast food”, or anything that can be carried easily as you swing around in a tree or on a boat.

Payment/restaurants doesn’t really exist for them, they just have areas where food brought in by providers is available to the community (or people just eat what they catch and then bring extra to the community.)

They also don’t chew their food, though some dishes are meant to be squished to the roof of the mouth with the tongue to experience the flavor

Their clothing is often “readable” in that many individuals wear clothing that represents a certain story, event in their life, event in their community, or mythical hero that can be derived from looking at their clothing from the head down.

In the two guys up there, the Arasit is wearing the equivalent of booty shorts cut scantily close to their Hole depicting one version about the founding of the first community (though a simplified one, so it’s actually more like the equivalent of wearing a crop top tee with a little monochrome dog on it or something).

This kind of imagery is common among Arasit, even modern ones, because founding/birth/life are their associations in religious cultures.

The Kel alongside them is wearing a more complex getup meant to show the inciting incident of one of the nomadic communities mythic hero’s journey, when he was cast from the star sea by the wicked Long Arms into the deep sea.

This would be seen as all most goth since this part of the story is seen as eerie and it depicts their underworld along the hem and bracelets.

By wearing clothing associated with a specific figure//story, they can also show gender identity based on whether that figure or hod was male, female, neuther, etc(helping people draw the right conclusions despite the visible evidence of their sex written on all their skin. The clothing and any makeup done on the fin is usually their main reference point for judging how to address someone. )

[fatkish]

Dabi x Hawk Hybrid Keigo x Falcon Hybrid Reader NSFW

Dabi or Touya, runs the aviary section of Endeavor Farms

Keigo has been particularly restless since he’s gone through several mating seasons without a real partner

It’s been up to Touya to help him through it and act as his mate every spring

That winter, when Touya was informed of another bird of prey hybrid that was recently found and was in need of a home, he jumped at the chance to get you to his farm

When you arrived, Touya saw the bandages on your wing. When he asked, they said you had been used in hybrid falconry competitions and sustained a small fracture in one of the bones in your right wing

Realizing you couldn’t fly, your previous owner simply abandoned you since you couldn’t make him money in falconry

Touya helped you into the aviary and told you about Keigo, he explained that he wants you to try and help Keigo through his mating season every spring

You had told Touya that you had a low fertility and that was the reason why your previous owner abandoned you, since you could barely lay any eggs due to you almost being infertile

Touya told you not to worry about that since Keigo just needs a warm hole to stick it in

When Keigo caught your scent his feathers immediately started bristling and he started trilling and cooing. He immediately began cleaning his room/area and began to construct the most comfortable and secure nest he could build

He couldn’t wait to see his new potential mate. He was so excited he was practically shaking

When Touya opened the door to Keigo’s room, Keigo immediately began flirting with you and trying to get your attention

When Keigo saw the bandages on your wing he immediately paused and growled, as Touya took Keigo aside to explain things to him, you began to look around and eventually settled into the nest and took a nap after having traveled so long to get to the farm

Keigo saw you sleeping in the nest and started purring. He walked over and laid beside you, covering you with his wings

As the weeks passed and you and Keigo got along, the time to remove the bandage from your wing came

As Touya unwrapped your wing, you gave a few experimental flaps before taking flight. Touya watched you as you flew through the sky. Keigo decided to join you and flew right by your side

Soon winter came to an end as Keigo was getting particularly fussy. Constantly preening both yours and his wings. Making sure the nest was perfect and adding blankets and pillows wherever he saw fit

As the snow melted, Keigo finally had what he always wanted. The perfect mate to give him children.

Spurred by his instincts and hormones, one day, after having made sure you had eaten and were cozy, he jumped on top of you and began kissing and making out with you

He grabbed at your chest and pinched at your nipples, biting your neck and growling. His hands slid down to your hips as he grabbed fistfuls of your ass.

Spreading your legs he dove his face between them and began to devour you. Licking and sucking at your sensitive flesh and purring at the taste. He then shoved two fingers into your hole as he scissored them, stretching you

After throughly enjoying you, he flipped you over onto your hand and knees as he prepared to spear you on his dick

As he shoved his cock into your slicked hole, you nearly screamed in pleasure as his thick cock ploughed through your insides. As he began thrusting while holding your hips, the door opened and Touya walked in

You could see the tent in his pants as he walked up to you. He smiled down at you as he began to unzip his jeans and pull himself out

“Look at you, such a pretty little mess. Is Keigo f~~~ing you good? Look at you drooling, I should put that mouth to use, huh?”

He then shoved his cock into your mouth as you chocked slightly, your eyes rolling back some as Touya began to thrust in time with Keigo

“Hey pretty bird, make sure to fill ‘em up nice and full. Don’t waste a single drop, I brought a plug to keep all your precious cum inside them… oh, yeah,… keep sucking, just like that.”

Touya started to groan as Keigo’s thrusts quickened and deepened. Keigo growled as he bit at your neck and stated pounding away as deep as he could

“That’s it Kei, such a good boy, fill ‘em up nicely now and breed ‘em. I want to see some eggs soon, don’t you. You’re gonna be such a good dad, you’re such a loving and caring partner. You want his cum inside you, don’t ‘cha birdie? Go on, tell Keigs how much you want his cum to fill you up”

“I-I I want it, ple-please, please g-give me your cum! I w-want you t-to fill me up, make me y-yours. Please K-Keigo!”

That was all it took before Keigo slammed your head into the nest and began thrusting like his life depended on it. With this new angle, Keigo hit your spot with every slam of his hips. You came so hard as you screamed in ecstasy.

After a few more harsh thrusts, Keigo slammed into you one last time as he leaned over you, cover you with his wings as he filled you with his hot seed.

Panting, as his cock drained his spend into you, he grabbed the plug from Touya before pulling out afterwards, shoving the plug deep inside your sensitive, dripping channel, pulling a final groan from you

Throughly exhausted, you laid down in the nest before falling asleep. Only to wake up 30 minutes later to Keigo already back at it

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

The boys reaction on the reader breast feeding 😅

Like would they want to taste it or would they watch idk lol up to you I feel comfortable 🫶🏻

Breastfeeding (Fluff)/(18+)

Bayverse!Turtles x reader

A/N: oop. Don’t mind if I do👀💚 Not super long this time, as I've had a long ass day😭💚

Warnings: I’m not sure if breastfeeding needs a warning, but I’m just gonna put it anyway to be safe.

Leonardo:

Leo could not explain it, but watching you breastfeed their children did something to him. It has never been in a turtle's nature to seek out their parents. Once the egg was laid, they were on their own. And therefore it obviously wasn’t a common thing to see a turtle suckle their mother's breast for milk. Damn it, turtles don't even have nipples. But with your children being part human, the need for breast milk was there, and to Leo the sight was… interesting. In all honesty, he found peace in the sight, watching you throughout the years with all four of your children. It was a different way of meditation for Leo, to sit with you and your child, in the moment your child’s small hungry cries turned to a content silence.

Raphael:

This might sound strange, but Raph found it hot when you were breastfeeding. To be blunt and honest, he thought you looked absolutely amazing, and at times he wondered if he was willing to have another child, just to see you like that again, when you’re just sitting there with your tit out in the open, but other than that, he couldn't really explain why. Sure, your child was gaining sustenance from your nipple and he knew better than to ever interrupt that, but he just couldn’t keep his thoughts from going to that dirty place. And he would take you with him to that place, when you’ve laid your kid to bed, fighting the urge to put another child in you. It was like you brought a smaller mating season on to him every time, something he had thought had ended with your last child. But he still found himself thinking back upon it, weighing whether the pros and cons, figuring out if it was worth one more child.

Donatello:

Donnie enjoyed watching you breastfeed for many different reasons. You were his wife, so of course he found a sense of joy and happiness while watching you feed your child. It brought him peace to know that both you and his child felt good and comfortable, and watching you in these moments made him feel warm and happy. Who would have thought that he ever got to experience something like this? But of course, it also evoked the more science oriented side of Donnie. He could not help but analyze and take mental notes, learning from all he saw, in order to understand. It was the way of nature, and in this case, two different natures coming together and forming a new one.

Michelangelo:

Breastfeeding was a curious wonder to Mikey. He had never seen it before, and he did not know that was a thing with humans before you had your first child. There was no doubt that Mikey definitely wanted to taste. It started out with genuine curiosity. He wanted to know why his kids would whine and grab for their mother’s breast whenever they were hungry, thinking it had something to do with the flavor. It took some time before you let Mikey taste, had he seemed disappointed when he learned that there weren't any spectacular flavors, but just… milk. But nonetheless, Mikey could not help but find the whole thing a little exciting, and now you had to put up with not just a hungry child, but your imaginative husband.

[eoieopda]

sweatshirt season | ksy

your fuck buddy is good at a lot of things. taking hints isn’t one of them.

pairing: kwon soonyoung x reader type: one-shot / fluff + smut rating: 18+ (minors do not have my consent to interact) au: one-night-stand to fuck buddies to ? wc: 4.5k cw: gn! and afab!reader (no pronouns used); time skips; protected penetrative sex (p in v); hoshi is kinda a himbo, lmao; ft. cameo by minghao and roomate!gn!sibling OC; reference to the movie they're watching, which is hereditary (brief mention of decapitation + demonic possession); barely proofread, sorry! a/n: this is based on a headcanon i did a while ago! i've been in such a horrible rut re: writing for the past month and a half, so it was a major struggle to write this because i feel like i don't know how to do that anymore 😵‍💫 i'm hoping that himbo hoshi can save me from this hell. also, this is told in vignettes!

[APRIL]

“Babe?”

The voice from nowhere is barely loud enough to drag you from sleep, but the effect it has on you is far from soft. Those consonants dig in where your dehydrated brain shrinks away from your skull, pressing in so hard that they throb. 

Bleary-eyed, you blink as rapidly as you can to adjust to the bright, white light beaming in through your open shades. The sound that escapes you is something akin to a hiss; it gets the point across, nonetheless. You sit up just enough to see the figure standing in front of your window, looming overhead with crossed arms, laughing. 

Clearly, your roommate doesn’t give a shit or a fuck about your hangover.

“What’s the deal with the stray you brought home last night?” Mei asks, the corners of their mouth tilting wickedly. 

You don’t have the brain power for this conversation, so you respond with a groan and bury your face back in the pillow from whence it came. Never one to give up, Mei drops down on top of you so that the full weight of their body rests against yours.

“C’mon,” they urge. “Spill your guts, chingu.”

Funnily enough, if they don’t get off your guts, you might do exactly that.

Your reply comes in the form of a croak, some pathetic little sound that reads as lifeless as you feel. “Why do you care?”

There isn’t a single reason you can think of for their sudden interest in your bad decisions. You’ve been making them left and right for the past few months without much more than a concerned glance, and until now, you didn’t realize that you’d taken the lack of follow-up questions for granted. 

What a fucking travesty it is to be perceived.

“Your business is your business.” Mei shrugs. You quirk an eyebrow, ready to jump in and point out their lapse in logic, but then that smirk comes back. “But your business is currently burning eggs in our kitchen, which makes it my business, too.”

Sitting up quickly, the force of your sudden moves nearly knock Mei to the ground. Beyond horrified, you squeak, “He’s still here?”

Faster than you’ve ever moved before, you clamber out from underneath your roommate and crawl to the edge of your bed, kicking wildly at your blankets until your legs are free. 

You’re already up and swaying on your feet, panting from the effort,  when you finally think to look down and assess the state of yourself. Thankfully, you’d remembered to dress yourself before falling asleep. You glance upward and salute whatever deity was looking out for you, ignore the look on Mei’s face entirely, and dash out of your bedroom.

As soon as you reach the kitchen, you skid to a stop, socks sliding across the hardwood until your hip bone collides with the corner of the kitchen island. You hiss again, far louder than the last time. The shape standing at your stove turns around wide-eyed; his mouth is frozen in the shape of an “o”.

Just as quick, recognition flashes, and the shock wears off.

“Good morning,” he chirps, and he’s all fucking sunshine.

You blink back at him without a single idea of where to start  — with the fact that he’s still here after you could’ve sworn he left, that he’s wearing your apron but has no clear grasp on the simple act of frying eggs, or that you cannot for the life of you remember his name.

Fuck.

You should really start keeping a guest book.

Whatever his name is, he’s witnessing you at your worst — certifiably crusty with your standard bad attitude — and that alone makes you want to wither and die, right on the spot. Unbothered by your ghoulish appearance, he gestures to the kitchen island you just collided with, pointing to a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

Items he would’ve had to open two (2) separate cabinets to find. 

In the kitchen he shouldn’t even be in.

You open your mouth, primed to explode all over him, but the way he’s looking at you disarms you immediately. His expression is so chipper — so friendly and childlike in its innocence — that you swallow down the shit you’d readily hurl at anyone else. You gulp, and without saying a word in acknowledgement, you grab what he’s laid out for you.

He smiles when you choke down the aspirin, then turns back around to pull the scrambled, half-burnt mess off the burner. 

“You must have a pretty low alcohol tolerance if you’re this hungover after three drinks,” he muses.

It’s an accurate observation — a harmless one, too — but you did not ask. Once again, he shoots you a smile that prevents you from snapping at him. Instead, you set the now-empty glass back down on the island and stare vacantly over at him.

Seonghwa? 

“You’re still here,” you say flatly. You may be stating the obvious, but that fact speaks for itself. “You’re still here, and you’re also in my kitchen.”

Seokjin, maybe?

He smiles at this, either unaware that he’s violated the unwritten one-night-stand code of conduct or unfazed by his own rule breaking. Rubbing the back of his neck, he laughs awkwardly, “It was the least I could do, you know? After all you —”

What the fuck is your name?

“Sungwoo!” You cut him off with a gasp and a palm raised, all but begging him not to recount what he’s grateful for within earshot of your roommate. “Really, you don’t need to do this. Any of this.”

He corrects you gently, “It’s Soonyoung.” 

Then, without even a hint of offense taken, he nods his head towards one of the stools tucked under the counter of the island. Your eyes flit between his hopeful face and the seat, frozen solid with indecision.

You see two options, and both feel like a trap:

Holding the line risks squashing this clueless boy’s marshmallow heart; and you don’t want to be the gash that ruins his day at the very outset. If you feed the stray — rather, if you let the stray feed you — then you’re an enabler, contracting a residency when the show was supposed to be one-night-only.

More perceptive than you’ve given him credit for so far, he senses the conflict inside your skull and attempts to tip the scale with a bread-cheeked smile and a shoulder wiggle. “Your breakfast is getting cold,” he nudges in a soft, sing-song tone. 

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Begrudgingly, you dump yourself onto a stool without a word. With your elbows now propped up on the countertop, you drop your chin down to rest on the heels of your hands. More than anything, you try like hell to ignore the way it all makes his face light up.

“I don’t understand how you went from demonically hot to…” Your voice trails off as you try to find a word for whatever this is. A beat passes before you give up, waving dismissively. “Domesticated, or whatever.”

And his cheeks go pink.

“You think I’m hot?” He all but gasps, like this is brand new information to him. 

Like you would’ve brought him home from the club if he wasn’t — and goddamn, was he ever. Carrying himself with the kind of confidence that made your knees wobble; saying all the right things in a low, smoky tone with his lips at your ear; moving his body in ways that still fluster you to think about.

And yet, here he is.

Adorable, if not completely obtuse.

After grabbing plates from a nearby cabinet, he snags two pairs of chopsticks out of the drawer to the left of the sink. It takes all you’ve got not to roll your eyes. He shouldn’t know where either of those things are, but he does.

A satisfied sigh slips out of his mouth when he takes the seat next to yours and scoots a plate full of eggs and kimchi in front of you.

“Here you go,” he sings as he holds out a pair of your own chopsticks to you. 

He’s beaming when you accept them into your hand, and it leaves you with no choice but to take a bite of the food in front of you. Intently and chronically hopeful, he watches you pluck a piece of scrambled egg from the plate, like the trajectory of his life hinges on your approval. There’s no turning back now. Reluctantly, you pop it into your mouth.

While you chew, he leans in a bit closer. From this distance, you can see your own reflection in his irises; there are tiny flecks of honey brown amidst the dark, you realize. Little details you didn’t notice last night when he was much, much closer — like the heart-shaped curve his upper lip takes when he smiles as big as he is now.

“How is it?” He asks, walking the borderline between eager and unbearably shy.

You swallow hard as you snap back to attention. If letting him stay for breakfast was a bad call, getting caught gawking at him is a flagrant foul. Somehow, you need to get the point across without being too cruel; to remind him that you signed up for the night and not the morning.

“Um. Well,” you start with a grimace, shifting uncomfortably in your seat. “Are eggs supposed to… crunch?”

[JUNE]

“Oh, fuck, just like that —”

Your back arches off the bed as you grip uselessly at sweat-drenched sheets. Between your spread thighs, Soonyoung and the punishing pace he’s set make quick work of pulling you apart, again. His right arm loops under your left leg to anchor you to him while his left palm presses down on your lower abdomen, making damn sure that every thrust drags over your g-spot.

This — this right here — is why you keep calling him back. He may overstay his welcome, but that’s an occupational hazard. His perpetual presence is a risk you’re willing to take, so long as he fucks you like this.

“Shit. You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?”

He’s panting as he says it, which surprises the hell out of you. His stamina is unearthly, and when you manage to keep your eyes open long enough to look up at him, you don’t see any hint of effort. It's just the ragged sound of his breathing, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“I think this might be a new personal record.” 

Unfortunately, his little announcement is genuine. He’s merely stating a fact, not trying to tease you, because his only concern outside of making you cum is outdoing himself.

To Soonyoung, sex is a performance he’s trying to perfect. He approaches it like an Olympian — an athlete or a god? — and the bar he sets for himself raises every time you see him.

You find it the tiniest bit endearing how focused he is on self-improvement.

Kind of. 

That doesn’t stop you from rolling your eyes, though.

“Not if you keep —” A moan that you didn’t mean to let out cuts your sentence in half. “— talking.”

Your head crashes back against the pillows, which only spurs him on. Deeper, more deliberate strokes leave you writhing underneath him, babbling like a fool. He grins so wide that his eyes almost disappear.

“I’m just saying…” Another thrust, a thousand more stars dotting the periphery of your vision. “If you hit five, you owe me dinner.”

There it is, right on cue: another piece of evidence to prove that Soonyoung still doesn’t know what he signed up for.

It’s a conversation you’ve had more than once — never because you want to have it; and never because he seems to be consciously seeking something more than what you have. 

At some point over the past few months of scattered nights with you, a seed seems to have taken root in the back of his brain. A zombie parasite, more likely; one that’s overridden the controls and completely undermined his understanding of the situation.

Whether he means it or not, these throw-away comments make you wonder if, deep down, he’s not wired to fuck without feelings.

Not like you, anyway.

Your self-preservation instincts don’t let you get that far. Risk-averse to your core, you don’t see the point of gambling when the stakes are that high. And even if you weren’t wary of getting yourself hurt, it wouldn’t change the fundamental truth that you enjoy your own company enough not to need anyone else’s.

The way you see it, Soonyoung can have a cameo in your weekends, but the plot of your life right now doesn’t need anything more than that. Changing the lineup now could fuck your whole season. So, why try?

To his credit, he seems to get that there are currently more pressing matters at hand than the same old conversation. He pats your hip and says, “Let’s switch it up.”

You’re as grateful for the subject change as you are for the hand he extends to help your boneless body sit up again. Thankfully, the one lesson he has learned is that no one can compete with his perpetually full battery. If he’s going to change positions as often as he wants to, he has to be the one to position you.

This time, you wind up with your back flush against his chest, skin slick against yours. To keep him close, you reach back until your hand finds the nape of his neck. After weaving your fingers through the damp hair at the base of his head, you tug slightly, pulling a low groan out of him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he grunts breathlessly. “Pull my hair.”

You do as he says, albeit a bit harder than you meant to; you can’t help it. That’s the exact moment he chooses to grab your hips and slam your ass back against his pelvis, perfectly in time with his forward snap. He’s in your guts now, there’s no doubt about it, and you’re falling to pieces.

Wailing, you have to squeeze your eyes shut to survive the surge of pleasure coursing through you. “Oh, my god,” you choke out.

The only way you manage to stay upright through your orgasm is with Soonyoung’s arms caging you in. Without him, you’d be a trembling fucking mess, collapsing face-down onto your bed in a useless heap. He keeps holding you even when he lets himself go soon after, spilling into the condom with a moan you feel as it leaves his chest.

“Goddamn,” he sighs, voice rough. The heat of his breath on your neck almost makes you want to cling to him, curl up and let your eyes flutter shut. “Every time I fuck you, I feel like I should thank you.”

That flicker of affection goes out in a flash as the memory of consequences comes back around. You snort. “Please don’t cook for me again.”

You leave it at that, and so does he. When he finally pulls out of you, you give into the safer urge; the one that can’t possible give him the wrong impression. Slumping forward, you hit the mattress so hard that you practically bounce, like the dead weight you are.

Soonyoung misses that spectacle, thankfully. He’s already on his feet, tying off the condom before dropping it into the wastebasket on the other side of the room. You hear it drop against the plastic bag, then the soft pad of his footsteps as he makes his way back to you. You unbury your face from the pillows and crane your neck to look over at him.

In a rare display, he looks exhausted. Moments like this might be the only time he ever finds himself depleted, and you figure he’s earned that right. Part of you wants to let him lay here with you — maybe even let him sleep it off — but you can’t let him get tangled in the strings you refuse to attach.

He’s halfway to you when he finally looks up at you and catches you watching him. You’re not sure what he sees in your expression; you’d bet it’s as confusing on the outside as it feels on the inside. Whatever he finds there, it makes him pause. There's a quick nod, like he’s reacting to something neither one of you has said out loud, then he changes course.

“You have to be up early,” he says, like he’s finally learned the script. “I’m gonna head out.”

You nod but say nothing else. You just watch as Soonyoung grabs the clothes you’d tugged off of him earlier, piece by piece, and puts everything back to the way it was before.

The way you want it.

Once he’s fully clothed, he shoots you a smile that only uses half of his mouth. Neither of you offers a word as he walks over to the door, although you can tell he’s moving more slowly than usual. Hoping you’ll stop him, maybe.

You don’t.

It’s not until he pulls it open that he looks back over his shoulder at you; and this time, when he smiles, it looks like he means it.

“Sleep well, yeah?”

[OCTOBER]

“I’m just saying that if her shithead brother bothered to include her in his night, maybe she wouldn’t have been decapitated."

You tear your eyes off the television screen in time to see Minghao’s eyes roll all the way back into his head. Across the coffee table from where you sit, he and Mei occupy the couch; his head crashes against the back of it with a muffled thump while his younger sibling continues their rant.

“I’m being for real,” Mei urges, jabbing their finger emphatically through the air in his direction. “If you ever bail on me like that, and my head ends up falling off, you deserve whatever consequences come next.”

You snort. “Up to and including… what, demonic possession?”

“Absolutely,” Mei sniffs.

Minghao sits upright again slowly. He chews thoughtfully on his lower lip, leaving you and your roommate in suspense. Knowing him, he’ll lecture you both on karmic energy and how Mei shouldn’t fuck around with it. To both of your surprise, he frowns. “Is it bad that I kind of want cake now?”

You and Mei respond at the same time, although your responses are nothing alike:

“I think we have some left over.”

“Yes, you’re a monster.”

Despite what they just called him, Mei is nothing if not a good host. With a beleaguered huff, they push themselves off the couch, step carefully over the legs Minghao doesn’t move out of their path, and stalks off towards the kitchen to forage for food.

Left alone in the living room, you and Minghao fall into an easy silence, eyes glued once again to the screen. It’s always been easier to get through a movie without Mei’s commentary; this one would’ve been finished an hour ago if they hadn’t kept pausing it to ramble. You’re so immersed in it that you hardly hear the way they’re tearing through the kitchen like a cyclone. You almost miss the soft knock at the door, too.

Immediately, your optimistic eyes flick over to Minghao. He’s closer to the door, and if you stare at him long enough, he might let you stay in the armchair you’ve all but fused to. 

“Nope,” he says coolly, without even looking.

Whining, you peel off the blanket you’ve wrapped yourself in and unfurl your knotted legs. You shiver when your bare feet touch the cold wood below, but bravely, you don’t retreat. You push forward on tiptoe and skip across the living room until you reach the front door.

Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead when you open it to find Soonyoung standing there for the first time in several weeks. While overstaying his welcome is his signature, showing up uninvited never has been. That’s apparently one line in the sand he won’t stumble over.

“Hey,” you peep.

For reasons unknown, you have to pause to let your gaze sweep over him, like something might’ve drastically changed about him since you saw him last. There’s a tiny flutter in the center of your chest that begs you to greet him more emphatically than that, but you ignore it.

Soonyoung looks more apologetic than you’ve ever seen him, which makes your pulse quicken even more.

“I’m really sorry to bother you,” he swears. “I think I left my headphones here last time. I’ve looked everywhere, I promise, but they’re just — gone.”

Your first instinct is to ask why he brought headphones to a dick appointment in the first place, but you talk yourself out of it. The next is to find out why he came all the way over here on a hunch, rather than simply texting you; he hasn’t in a while, not that you’ve taken it to heart. But you don’t do that, either, which strikes you as odd.

Instead, you step back and push the door open wider, once again letting the stray inside. “No worries,” you breeze.

Since when?

As it turns out, letting him in doesn’t bring the sky crashing down around you. Taking a single brick out of the wall you’ve fastidiously built doesn’t bring about the end of days. It just brings a shy bow and a quiet “thank you” while he toes off his shoes.

He turns to head toward your bedroom with you following behind him, but he stops short after a few steps. Crashing into his back — god, he’s broader than he looks — you grab his biceps to keep from bowling him over entirely.

“Shit — I’m so sorry.” He wheels around, failing to realize that you’re as close as you are. You can see panic light up his eyes, now mere centimeters from yours. “I didn’t realize you had somebody over.”

What is that scribbled all over his face?

It’s not anger, you know that much. Nothing about the way he’s looking at you reads like jealousy, either. If anything, he seems genuinely torn-up over what he assumes is date-crashing. Guilty, maybe.

So, why do you feel bad?

“Mei’s brother,” you explain quickly, as if he’s owed one. “Our annual horror movie marathon. We — all of us — do it every October.”

Why did you add that qualifier in there?

Soonyoung’s face brightens immediately, and you feel the tiniest bit warmer now that the corners of his mouth aren’t curved downward anymore. You wish that surprised you, but it doesn’t.

Why should it? You’ve given into him more often than not, haven’t you?

All he says is, “Oh,” in the tiniest voice you’ve ever heard, like he’s embarrassed himself for the first time in his life.

It grows quiet while the two of you continue to stand there in the half-light. If you discount the screaming, the flickering colors coming from the television screen make it feel almost — cozy?

But you’ve been gazing up at him for far too long, so you clear your throat. “Your — umm — your headphones. Do you remember where you left them?”

You nudge him slightly to get him moving, which he does without complaint.

“I think they jumped out of my pocket when you…” Soonyoung’s voice trails off. As you pass by, he glances over at Minghao, who either can’t hear your conversation or doesn’t give a shit about it.

With that indifference confirmed, Soonyoung looks back at you with a smirk. “You broke my zipper, you know. I had to take those jeans to a tailor to fix it.”

Immediately, your cheeks start burning.

Resident fuck monster, reporting for duty! Here to rip clothes to shreds and — 

He touches your wrist, just for a second. “It’s cute,” he assures you, even though you haven’t said a word.

And it doesn’t do a damn thing to keep that heat from rising up your face.

You step into your bedroom before you can think of what to say in response, so you let the moment pass and flick on the light. Just as soon as he joins you inside, Soonyoung lays eyes on what he came for — which is a miracle. That thin, white cord is practically invisible under your dresser.

“Ah!” He chirps, bending down to grab it.

Looking triumphant as hell, he tucks it into the pocket of his joggers and shoots you a grin. Suddenly, you find it hard to mimic his smile, although you don’t know why. 

He got what he came for, didn’t he? He’ll be out of your hair in a matter of moments, which is exactly what you’ve been demanding of him for months. You had to train him to get in and get out, and when he eventually learned, the relief was immediate.

So, why don’t you feel relieved now?

Soonyoung must hear your trains of thought derailing because he comes in hot with a distraction. As usual, it’s out of left field, just like the soft brush of his fingers on your bare arm.

“You’re cold.”

It’s not a question. 

There aren’t even goosebumps on your arm; and there’s no reason why he should know by looking at you that you are, in fact, freezing. But he does, and before you can ask how the fuck that’s possible, he spins around to the dresser nearby and grabs the handle jutting out of the bottom-left drawer.

How does he —?

You open your mouth to speak. The words disappear when he stands upright again, now holding out a sweatshirt from the drawer you keep them in. He’s only seen you open it once before, and the fact that he remembers is making you dizzy.

Soonyoung’s expectant eyes lock on your face, looking at you the same way he did when he handed you those burnt fucking eggs. This time, though, you don’t hesitate to accept what he’s giving you. You tug that sweatshirt over your head without missing a beat, instantly learning that it’s much bigger on you than you remember.

Stunned, you blink back at him from underneath the hood, which obscures most of your forehead. “Is this —?” 

You grab the fabric from the front of it in your hands as you look down. At first glance, it looks like the million other white sweatshirts tucked into your drawer, but — 

“This isn’t mine.”

Your eyes flick back up to Soonyoung, who’s fighting for his life to bite back a smile.

Six months ago, you might’ve knocked him on his ass for this, but now, you can’t keep it together, either. You crack wide open, laughing so hard that your eyes almost disappear.

“When the hell did you sneak that in there?” You wheeze, wiping tears as they spill over your lash line. The smack you land against his arm is cloaked in a sweater paw, dealing no damage except to crack him open, too. “God, I was never going to get rid of you, was I?”

Beaming, he slips his hands into the kangaroo pocket on the front and tugs you closer; you let him. “It was just in case I get cold, I swear.”

“Is that it?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Are you sure?”

“Mhmm,” he hums, although you don’t believe him for a second. “It does look good on you, though. Maybe you should hang on to it.”

“To the sweatshirt?”

Watching him blush like that may never get old. Still, he maintains his bluff and nods. 

“Yeah. I mean, why not? Right? It’s comfortable.” He shrugs, not even the slightest bit casually. “A cotton blend, I think. Pre-shrunk, so… It’ll — uh, never be your size, I guess. That’s — um — that’s kind of a bummer, but…”

“Soonyoung!” You cut him off with a breathless laugh, prompting him to shut his rambling mouth.

The rare use of his name seems to startle him. His eyes go wide with that typical, hopeful anticipation that he never seems to leave home without. That look hasn’t disappeared after six months of getting shot down on a weekly basis, and neither has the way he hangs onto every word you say. 

This time, it might actually be what he’s been waiting to hear.

“Do you….?”

It might be a new personal record, you caving like this after holding someone at arm’s length for so long. The relief is automatic, spreading through muscle that you didn’t even realize had been aching.

“If you’re not busy, do you want to stay?”

[consoledacup]

Cannot get what Alice and Will say to Colin out of my head. And it had me thinking about everyone's different reactions to hearing about Colin helping Penelope.

Alice and Will were pretty offended and affronted by Colin's blatant and rude dismissal of Will when he tried to warn him about Cousin Jack. When Colin brings his acquaintances to the bar at the end of s2 and thanks Will for his warning, I bet Alice and Will were like, he's a good egg. They probably admired his sincerity and were happy he brought them business. So they most likely developed a soft spot for Colin.

Alice is very new to the ton when she calls Colin gallant. The Mondriches are still learning the roles in which everyone plays. So instead of seeing Colin's help as scandalous or pathetic, the Mondriches can easily connect what he did to how he handled himself in s2. He's just a good dude, and they know it.

Hyacinth reads as much Whistledown as she can, but she still is not out and therefore not there to witness the societal structure of the ton. So she also admires Colin for helping Penelope. And Penelope herself also reiterates how kind he was to help her. She might be on the outskirts of every social function, but she wields societal power in a way that is unmatched. And she can see through the rules of propriety because, sometimes, she writes new ones.

And every other character who reacts to what he does sees his assistance as something different. Even Eloise, who still holds disdain for the ton, warns him about the scandal. Which makes sense because she's trying desperately to align herself with the winning side this season, while also nursing her broken heart.

All of this goes back to Violet's comment about people pleasing. People pleasing is not martyrdom. Those are two very different things. So Anthony was a martyr to the point that Daphne called him out on it. Colin's a people pleaser.

There is a dark and self-serving side to people pleasing. It's not about helping others. It's seeking the approval of others. It's going against what feels natural and right and doing what you think you should be doing or feeling how you think you should be feeling. So Colin has grown up, learning every aspect of societal norms. Despite the squabbles they get into, he thinks the world of Anthony. And he's watched Anthony and Benedict become men and thinks, well I should be doing that too. I should be acting like them and then, perhaps, I can command respect. And that idea is proven right when Anthony buys a Colin a drink for having so many admirers.

So when Debling pops up, Colin's obviously upset and jealous. He sees this older, richer, titled guy who has a lot going on, is serious about his work, and is easily winning Penelope's affections. But I think he's also threatened by Debling's apparent lack of concern for how people see him. He owns his peculiarities in a way that Colin didn't think was possible for esteemed members of the ton.

That's why his behavior at the Queen's Ball is such a payoff. He had learned how to successfully master society's game. But in the end, none of it mattered if he couldn't be his authentic self. None of it mattered if he couldn't have the one person who truly understood him.

[reidsaurora]

"Apple Pie Proposal" ~ S. Reid

Summary: In which You and Spencer make your yearly trip to the apple orchard an official tradition.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1,144

Content Warnings: heavy food references, honestly i think that might be it? lmk if i missed anything though!

Extra Notes: crappy summary as always, live laugh love 🤪

Originally Written: 10/16/2023 through 10/24/2023

Criminal Minds masterlist can be found here!

Halloweek masterlist can be found here!

Apple cider was on your tongue, Spencer's oversized sweater was on your skin, and fall was in the air. Your stomach did somersaults at the feeling of joy rushing through you, wishing you could capture this moment and stay in it forever.

This was the fourth year you and Spencer had gone to the apple orchard together. Still, it never lost the same magic that it had the first time. Nothing gave you more satisfaction than spending the entire afternoon together, filling up your wicker baskets with locally grown apples, then baking the first pie of the season with them.

Many people didn't know that Spencer was quite the baker. While neither of his parents had taught him many skills in the kitchen, his Home Ec teacher had taught him how to bake up a damn good pie.

The orchard wasn't far from your shared apartment, a quaint little place just outside Mount Vernon, Virginia. Luscious trees spanned for what appeared to be miles, filled to the brim with bright green pears and apples that were every shade of red. The owners were an older couple that Gideon had known in college, whom he later introduced to Spencer and you.

After your baskets were nearly overflowing, the two of you made your way back to the car, starting the journey home, Spencer's favorite CD playing quietly as the two of you talked over it.

Spencer, ever the gentleman, insisted on you heading inside first, saying he'd grab the baskets from the car while you got started on collecting the ingredients for the pie. So, you did as asked, grabbing your apron from the hanger and getting to work.

"I think we severely overestimated the size of our pie," he chuckled as he brought in the second, heavier container of apples.

"Nonsense," you giggled from your spot at the island, where you were currently peeling and cutting the apples from the first basket. "Penelope will want a pie, Hotch will ask us to make him one for Jack, Gideon's coming over tomorrow for the football game. These apples will be gone in days."

He gave you a look of agreement, though you could see there was an unspoken emotion behind his expression. Admiration or love, you figured. And with that, Spencer was grabbing another apron, joining you at the bar and getting to work on the pie crust.

Soon, a batch of apple tartlets was in the oven, while Spencer finished up the last of the work on the pie. You sat down next to him again, giving him a similar look to the affectionate expression he'd given you earlier.

"Hey, do you remember the first year we did this?" he asked randomly a few minutes later, a faint nostalgic smile tugging at his lips.

A smile of your own crept up to your mouth. "You mean the year you threw an egg at me?" you answered, a laugh settling on the edge of your tongue.

"Hey, I only hit you with an egg in self defense. You're the one that threw flour on me," he rebutted.

The aforementioned laugh rolled off your tongue, a sound that Spencer told you almost daily was his favorite noise in the whole world. "Of course I remember. Why do you ask?"

He sat quietly for a moment, as if pondering the reason himself. Eventually, he landed on, "I guess I wonder how many years you think we'll be able to do this together."

The uncertainty in his words was almost enough to break your heart. Since the first time you'd visited the orchard, you'd hoped you'd continued the tradition every year for the rest of your lives. Maybe even eventually rope your children and then their children into it too. You weren't sure where along the line you'd led Spencer to believe otherwise, but the unsure look on his face let you know that he was nervous about your answer to the question.

"I'm hoping forever, if you'll have me that long," you answered, placing a comforting squeeze on his sweater clad arm.

He leaned over, giving you a soft and sweet kiss. "That sounds like a plan to me."

As if on cue, the oven beeped, Spencer heading to grab the pan of tartlets. While he began placing them on the cooling rack, you headed over to the oven, placing the pie inside.

It took you a moment to register what was happening as you turned to face him again. At first, you thought maybe he'd dropped something or his shoe needed to be tied. But then, you realized there was something in his hand, one of the apple tarts. And then, examining the scene further, you noticed something shiny atop the treat in his hand.

The words were shaky as they exited Spencer's mouth, his hands trembling as they held up his creation. "I really hope you were serious about your answer to my last question. Otherwise, I'm gonna look very stupid," he chuckled nervously.

Tears slipped down your cheeks at the display in front of you, your heart thumping a thousand beats per minute. "That certainly doesn't belong in dessert," you managed to laugh, your tears nearly turning to full-on waterworks.

"I suppose it doesn't," he chuckled nervously, holding the tart up further. "I'm hoping you can overlook it just this once though."

"I'll try," the joke came out weak, tears still falling from your eyes.

As if remembering why he was down there in the first place, he shook his head and gave you a more serious expression. "Y/N, I have loved you for over four and a half years. But when I think of how long I wish to love you, four years seems like the smallest sliver of time. I guess what I'm trying to say is… I want this—the orchard, the pies, all of it—every year for the rest of our lives. If you'll have me, I'd really like to be your husband."

The words came out stuttery and nervous, random breaks in his sentences, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. Especially not when the prospect of spending a lifetime with Spencer was on the table. "Of course I'll marry you," you answered, your own words somehow shakier than his.

He stood from his kneeling position, sliding the ring onto your finger and leaving a delicate kiss over the digit. "Thank goodness you said yes. That would make for some awkward conversation when Gideon comes over tomorrow."

A breathy laugh escaped your lips, pulling him in for a long and romantic kiss. This time, Spencer was on your tongue, an engagement ring was on your finger, and love was in the air. And again, your stomach did absolute somersaults at the feeling of joy rushing through you, wishing you could capture this moment and stay in it forever.

-> taglist: @lowsodiumfreaks67 @drayshadow @alexxavicry @nomajdetective @kbakery @leigh70 @darkloverfox @sammyrenae68 @cherrycandle @asgardprincess97 @gh0stgurl @esposadomd @randomwriter1021 @eddieharrington @lunar-affection @givemeth @lavhoes @rhyanishere @cat-lockwood @danielle143 @marsmallow433 @handsupforamiracle @topguncultleader @mente-sindescanso @reverieofmgg @spencer-reids-adventures @ah-blossom @encyclo-reid-ia @reidselle @thevisionthedream @dungeons-are-too-cold @mmmeademaaa @louderfortheback @reidsbookclub @annahalstead5021 @cwritesforfun @soapiebear @maelartasch @buckyyyismahhlife @cynbx @hellooitsrose @lover-of-books-and-tea @juismissing @captainchris-pike @therealrazortai

[theemissuniverse]

“CURIOUS GEORGE” SYZOTH X COMEDIC RELIEF X READER

SUMMARY : You ask Syzoth a million questions and he doesn’t get annoyed with you

WARNINGS : (MDNI) mentions of sex

MASTERLIST 1 , MASTERLIST 2

Syzoth was reading his book on your couch. You sat next to him just staring at him curiously. The two of you had been dating for two weeks.

He was also used to your questions. He actually found them amusing even though a lot of people hated how talkative you were. He found you to be adorable.

Today was one of those days that you were just asking him question after question.

You kept staring at him as he read his book, his eyes fixated on the page. “Are you a reptile or an amphibian?”

Syzoth sighed a little, preparing himself for all the dumb (but amusing) questions you would ask him. “A reptile, dear.”

“Is it true that you have two dicks in reptile form?”

“…Yes.”

“Have you ever had sex with two reptile girls at the same time?”

“No…”

“When you shoot out cum is it green?”

“No…”

“Do you actually eat bugs?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a breeding kink?”

“I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Do you really go through mating season?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to go through that with me?”

“Of course.”

The comment made you smiled but you continued to hound him with questions. “If you were locked in a room with a male reptile and you were in heat would you be forced to have sex with the reptile?”

“No…”

“Is it true that when your dick gets cut off it can grow back?”

“You’re thinking of my tail, dear.”

“Do you think you give good head because you have reptile tongue?”

“Are you trying to test that theory out?”

“Will I hatch eggs if you get me pregnant?”

“No…”

“Ooh! What if-“

Before you could even get a word out, Syzoth grabbed your chin gently and brought you to him before kissing you.

You kissed him back and cupped the right side of his face. Syzoth made his tongue go in your moan and you moaned some.

He pulled away and you couldn’t help but giggle. You knew he did that to shut you up. “I’ll shut up now.”

Syzoth chuckled a little and kissed you on your neck softly. “You’re too cute.”

[chvoswxtch]

it's like that

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: after taking on a new project at work, a figure from your past makes an appearance that doesn't sit well with frank.

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of violence

word count: 8k

a/n: buckle up, sluts (I say with all the love in my heart). this part 4 & it is long (about 25 pages) so grab a snack, a drink, & get comfy. thank you to @imalittleanon for being my lovely beta reader, & thank all of you for continuing to enjoy reading this series as much as I love writing it. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

btw there's a few easter eggs from season 1 of the punisher in this. enjoy 🖤

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

F. Castle

Those black letters had been staring up at you for over an hour. When you walked into your office this morning, the manila folder with Frank’s name on it was waiting on your desk. A furrow formed between your brows as you quickly looked around your office, not catching anyone’s eyes when you looked out into the hallway. You cautiously walked over towards your desk, fingertips barely tracing over the label with his name on it, as you tried to figure out who might have left it.

Your fingers paused when a name suddenly popped into your head.

Billy.

»»———　　———««

“Where the hell’s he goin’?”

Billy stared down at you curiously, eyes continuously darting back and forth between Frank’s ghost and your stunned expression. You hadn’t realized that you’d still been standing in the exact spot that Frank left you in, completely oblivious of all the other couples dancing around your statue. Billy gently grabbed onto your shoulder, dark brows pulling together towards the center of his forehead as he bent down slightly to reach your eye level.

“Y/N?”

“I wanna go home.”

Billy’s face immediately morphed into a more serious expression, and he transitioned into full on bodyguard mode. Wrapping his arm around your waist to lead you towards the hall with the elevators, he pulled an ear piece out of his pocket to slip in and brought his wrist up to his mouth to speak into his comms.

“Bring the car around front, now.”

Pressing the call button for one of the elevators, Billy turned his attention fully on your silent form.

“What happened?”

All you could think about was Frank’s words, echoing in your ears over and over and over as his vengeful glare bore into your eyes.

She died.

Billy grasped onto your shoulders a little firmer to capture your attention, bending down again to be level with your eyesight as he kept his voice calm.

“Y/N, I need you to tell me if this is an emotional thing, or a threat thing, so I know how to direct my guys. Because I’ve got no fuckin’ idea why Frank just took off like that, and the look on your face is makin’ me nervous. Talk to me, Y/N/N.”

“I just wanna go home, Billy.”

Billy’s stare was unwavering, even as the metal doors of the elevator parted with a ding. His dark eyes scanned over your face and entire body before he gave a slight nod of his head and ushered you into the elevator, pulling his comms up to his mouth again.

“Everyone report to your vehicles. We’re headed to the lobby. I’m takin’ Y/L/N home.”

The glass of the window was cool against your temple when you rested your head against it, closing your eyes for a moment as you let out a shuddering breath. All you could see flashing behind your eyelids was Frank’s face. 

Billy pulled his ear piece out as he eyed you, tucking it back into his jacket pocket.

“What happened with Frank?”

“I shouldn’t have asked him.”

“Asked him what?”

The busy streets of New York passed by in a blur as you watched out the window, but you couldn’t see any of it. All you could see was his face.

“I thought…when I saw the ring around his neck…I thought he was getting divorced. I didn’t know that…that his wife…”

You couldn’t even finish that sentence. Your brain was still trying to process the way Frank had said it. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Billy immediately stiffen, and his facial features became darker as you looked over at him.

“Did you know her?”

Billy clenched his jaw tightly as he stared straight ahead, only giving a slight nod of his head.

“She was like family. She was family.”

“What hap-”

“Not my place to say.”

Billy’s voice was stern, with a slight edge to it, and you immediately let the endless questions bubbling in your throat die on your tongue. The rest of the ride was completely silent as you tried to wrap your brain around all of this new information. You knew that Billy and Frank had known each other for a long time, but you didn’t realize just how close they were. Your heart felt heavy in your chest, overflowing with guilt for ripping open a wound not just for Frank, but for Billy too.

“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…I wasn’t trying to…I’m-”

“You didn’t know.”

“It’s not my business.”

Billy’s eyes were a little more sympathetic than the rest of his features as he looked at you. As soon as his car pulled up outside your home, you rushed to unbuckle yourself, wanting to put as much distance between yourself and the mess you had made as possible. 

“Thank you…for everything, tonight. I’m just gonna-”

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I’m still on the clock.”

Billy didn’t give you another chance to protest as he opened his door to get out, coming around to meet you on your side so that he could walk you up to your door. Whatever nerve you had struck with him had completely evaporated the playful mood he was usually in, and you found yourself missing that version of him in place of this one. Your fingers trembled as you pulled your keys from your purse, and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you both stood in front of your door.

“Billy…I’m so sorry-”

“You can’t help it. It’s the investigative journalist in you.”

Billy attempted to give you a reassuring smile, but it never made it to the edges of his mouth. He let out a deep exhale through his nose, adjusting his tie as he glanced around silently for a moment.

“Give him time. Frankie’s kinda like a cat. You gotta let him come to you.”

Letting out a shaky breath, you traced your thumb over your key, staring down at it for a moment as you tried to figure out what to say. You didn’t want to see the hurt and disappointment in Billy’s eyes.

“Thank you…for coming with me tonight. And…for everything. I really appreciate it.”

“If you wanted to go on a date with me so bad, all you had to do was ask, doll.”

When your eyes snapped up, Billy’s signature cocky smirk was back on his lips, and his eyes were softer and shining with mischief. A little bit of the weight from earlier felt like it had been lifted off your shoulders, and you rolled your eyes as you tried to fight the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth.

“I’d never give you the satisfaction, Russo.”

»»———　　———««

Billy had to have been the one that left it. But why? What did he want you to know?

You had spent the past hour waging an internal war with yourself over it. Part of you desperately wanted to know what was inside, especially if it had answers about Frank and his wife. A bigger part of you felt guilty at the idea of invading his privacy like that. If he wanted you to know, he would tell you. 

Why would Frank want you to know? Why had he even brought it up at the gala? He could’ve lied. He could’ve said anything but that.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, you grabbed the folder and shoved it into your bag, deciding it was a problem for later since you had a staff meeting in five minutes. Grabbing your notebook and pen in one hand and your coffee in the other, you made your way to the large meeting room where everyone was gathering around, taking a seat towards the front of the long table. Your editor adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose as he clasped his hands together.

“Alright, I’m sure most of you heard by now, but there was another bomb attack this morning right in front of the Royal Hospitality hotel. We don’t have a lot of details right now, but we do know a car parked out front was rigged to explode. This was most likely directed at senatorial candidate Stan Ori. He was supposed to deliver a speech there for his campaign about gun control this morning. We don’t have confirmation on the number of injuries or deaths yet. Ground team, I want you as close to the scene as possible. Get me everything you can: eye witness statements, pictures, anything. Internal team, I want you contacting all our sources at NYPD and Metro General for anything we can use. We need to run something today, the sooner the better. We clear? Alright, get to work. Y/L/N, stay back a minute.”

Confusion settled over your features as you stared up at your editor, watching as everyone quickly scattered out of the room. Once the two of you were alone, he let out a deep sigh and settled his hands on his hips while giving you a pointed look.

“I don’t want you touching this.”

Fury instantly spread through your bloodstream as you abruptly stood up from your chair.

“You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

“Ellison-”

“You are already too close to this. Do I need to remind you why you’re walking around with a shadow?”

“This is my job-”

“Your job is to write what I tell you, and I am telling you this is off limits.”

“Ellison, I was with Stan when they called into that radio interview. I can get an exclusive with him-”

“So they can threaten you?”

“They’ve already threatened me!”

“Which is exactly why you aren’t going anywhere near this, Y/N. I am not making the same mistake with you that I made with Ben. Do you understand?”

All the fire raging within you suddenly fizzled out at the mention of Ben’s name, and you slowly deflated. Ben Urich had been somewhat of a mentor to you when you started at the Bulletin. He had been an incredible writer that published some of the most groundbreaking stories the paper had ever seen, and he had begrudgingly taken you under his wing once he realized you weren’t going to give him an option not to. The office you worked out of now had once been his, and you hadn’t changed a single thing about it. 

Ben had gotten too close to Wilson Fisk in the process of writing an article to expose him for what he really was, and while it was never proven in court, you knew Fisk had been the one that murdered him.

“Yeah…I understand.”

“I know you hate this shit. Okay, I do too. But pride is not worth losing your life over.”

“It’s not pride, Ellison. It’s…anger. I’m tired and angry.”

“Kind of a shame your beloved Punisher was gunned down. If there was ever a time I wished that guy was still alive, it’s now. Never thought I would ever say that, but…he probably would’ve had these assholes taken care of after the first attack. He was efficient, I’ll give him that.”

Shooting a glare in Ellison’s direction, you crossed your arms defiantly over your chest as you shook your head.

“He wasn’t-I never said he was…shut up.”

You knew Ellison was right to forbid you from covering the attacks. You had already put yourself at risk too much already. But it didn’t make it any less infuriating. 

As you stormed back into your office, you slammed your door shut so hard, it rattled the hinges. A frustrated groan fell from your lips as you tiredly rubbed your palms down your face.

“That good, huh?”

Jumping at the sound of Frank’s deep voice cutting through the silence of your office, you quickly spun around to see him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he stared over at you, and you swore you saw the faintest of smiles threatening to spill over his lips.

“What…where did you come from?”

“You want the long answer, or the short one?”

You stared at him in complete disbelief. Frank was sitting calmly in the corner of your office, giving you sass like he hadn’t just told you an Earth-shattering revelation no more than seventy-two hours ago before completely disappearing again. He cocked his head to the side as he stared over at you, arching one of his dark brows quizzically.

“Ya’know, as your keeper, it’s pretty concernin’ how little regard you have for your own safety.”

“What?”

“I coulda shot you, or came up behind you with a knife. You wouldn’t have even known I was in here. You really gotta start checkin’ rooms before you enter ‘em, and lockin’ your goddamn door. You even got anythin’ in here to protect yourself with?”

“Yeah, you.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed at your response, and you crossed your arms over your chest as you arched one of your brows in return. If he wanted to do sassy today, you could do sassy, and you could do it better.

“I meant a weapon, smartass.”

“Again, you. Isn’t that what they’re paying you for?”

“How ‘bout when I’m not here?”

“Then I get your replacement. At least, that’s what I’ve been getting every time you’ve gone MIA lately.”

Frank’s jaw instantly tensed at your snappy reply, and you didn’t miss the way he sat up a little straighter in the chair. Lightly scoffing, you rolled your eyes as you stalked over to your desk to sit down, tossing your notebook and pen carelessly onto it.

“Should I sign up for self defense classes? Or just skip straight to buying a gun, Frank? What’s your professional recommendation?”

Were you being bitchy? Absolutely. Did Frank deserve it? Abso-fucking-lutey. You were not in the mood to deal with his emotional whiplash today.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just seems to be National Asshole Day, and lucky me. I get to deal with all the biggest contenders.”

Frank grunted in annoyance as a sharp exhale left his nose, and you could feel his eyes staring daggers into the side of your face.

“Whenever you’re done throwin’ your fuckin’ tantrum and can talk to me like an adult, let me know. Yeah?”

You swiftly whipped your head in Frank’s direction, eyes wild with rancor and bewilderment at the audacity for him to say that to you when he was the one that consistently vanished instead of communicating. Frank’s lips were pursed in almost a pout, and there was a clear challenge shining in his eyes as he stared you down. Both of you refused to look away, or blink, like you were having a fucking staring contest. But Frank clearly hadn’t learned by now that you were just as stubborn as he was.

“I’ll start when you start.”

A muscle feathered in Frank’s strong jaw, and he nodded his head slowly as he leaned back in the chair, spreading his legs a little wider as he calmly crossed his arms over his chest. 

“So it’s like that, then?”

“Yeah, Frank. It’s like that.”

Frank stared you down silently as you narrowed your eyes in dissent, a look of irritation and complete exasperation etched onto his features. Shaking his head with a scoff, he slapped his hands on his thighs before suddenly standing, his boots thudding heavily against the floor as he marched over towards your door.

“Where are you going?”

“To find somethin’ to fix that fuckin’ attitude of yours.”

A scornful laugh slipped past your lips as Frank spoke to you over his shoulder, shutting your door far less than gently as he disappeared down the hallway. You slipped your fingers into your hair and ran them through to the ends in frustration, angrily unlocking your computer as you swore under your breath.

“Asshole.”

Twenty minutes later, Frank reappeared in your office, slamming a very large iced coffee along with a small brown paper bag down on your desk. A crease formed between your brows when you noticed the name of your favorite cafe on the cup, and you tilted your head back to look up at Frank in complete perplexity.

“What’s this?”

“Knowin’ you, you ain’t ate nothin’ today, and you’re particular ‘bout your coffee. Figured between bein’ hangry and drinkin’ that shit they pass off as coffee in your breakroom, this would take care of at least two reasons you’re such a ray of fuckin’ sunshine today.”

You’d been so wrapped up in watching the news coverage of the attack this morning, you had almost forgotten about your little spat with Frank earlier. You followed his large frame with your eyes as he plopped back down into the chair he had claimed as his, grunting as he stared out your window with a broody look on his face while sipping his own coffee. 

Frank didn’t normally sit in your office. He usually sat outside to get a better vantage point of all the exits, and to keep an eye on who was coming through the building. There were usually two other guards with Frank that stayed outside in a car, and you knew they were there because you had seen them on your way in. Even though you were still a little upset with him about his behavior at the gala, it was comforting having him to keep you company. Even if you two were in the middle of an argument.

Reaching for the cup, you closed your eyes and let out a quiet hum of approval as the familiar taste of blonde espresso and sweet cream cold foam hit your taste buds. Frank had a point. The coffee in your break room was terrible, but you’d been in a rush this morning and hadn’t had time to make any of your own or stop by your favorite place. You had been forcing yourself to drink the break room coffee because you desperately needed the caffeine. 

You had guzzled nearly a fourth of the cup when you finally opened your eyes, noticing that Frank was staring at you with a mixture of incredulity and entertainment on his face. He shook his head slowly as a deep chuckle sounded in his chest, lifting his own cup to take a sip as a delighted grin threatened to take over the corner of his mouth. A layer of blush instantly coated your cheeks at his reaction.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re so fuckin’ easy to please.”

For some reason that made you blush even harder, and your mouth snapped shut as you looked away to find your computer screen suddenly very interesting.

“Eat that damn muffin so we can call a truce.”

As nice as it was having Frank’s company, it was also pretty unnerving. You had to be hyper aware of everything you did knowing that he was watching you, which made you nervous considering you had a lot of weird fucking habits you mostly did subconsciously. Once you had sucked down half your coffee and eaten a good portion of the muffin, you looked over to find Frank already staring at you, arching one of his dark brows in question.

“You good now?”

Capturing your bottom lip between your teeth, you glanced down at your computer screen and nodded, too embarrassed to even look at him. Now that all your anger from earlier had vaporized, you felt bad about the way you had spoken to him. You had no idea what it was like to lose someone close to you like that. You had no knowledge of how something like that could change a person. 

Ever since Frank had told you about his wife’s death, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You wondered how long it had been since he’d lost her, and how. You wondered if he got to say goodbye. You kept thinking about how you weren’t sure if you would have the strength to go on after losing the person you loved most. To try and find another purpose in life, a reason to get out of bed in the morning, any semblance of meaning again.

Frank stood up and came over to sit in the chair directly in front of your desk, setting his coffee cup down on the edge of it. You lifted your gaze to meet his, noting the softer look in his eyes and watching as he nodded in your direction with his chin.

“You wanna tell me what’s goin’ on, now?”

A soft sigh slipped past your lips as you tucked your hair behind your ears, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk and hold onto the back of your neck with your hands.

“There was another attack this morning.”

“I heard.”

“Fifteen people were injured. Four of them…they aren’t sure if they’re gonna make it through the night. Three were killed. Ellison doesn’t want me anywhere near it. He told me to stay away, said it was too dangerous.”

“He’s right.”

Frank let out a sigh when you looked at him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he glanced around your office.

“The more you antagonize ‘em, the harder they’re gonna come for you.”

“So I don’t get to do my job because they don’t like what I have to say.”

“If it keeps you safe, yeah.”

Letting out a heavy exhale, you sank back into your chair as you crossed your arms over your chest. Frank moved his chair closer to your desk so he could place his arms on it, leaning in closer as he looked at you with sympathy.

“I know it ain’t fair-”

“No, it isn’t. It’s frustrating. This whole thing is so…fucked. They’re hurting and…murdering innocent people, and for what? To terrorize people into agreeing with them? I just…I don’t understand how they haven’t been caught yet. How much longer do they get away with this?”

“They’re not gettin’ away with it.”

“I don’t know, Frank. It seems like they are. No one knows who these people are. There’s no leads, no solid evidence, nothing. And now, I’m not allowed to do my job. I don’t want them to take my silence as compliance, or fear. I don’t want them to think they got to me, and they won. And I realize that is a stupid thing to think right now, but this whole thing just…pisses me off. I just want this shit to be over. I mean, who the fuck just goes around blowing shit up like that?”

“There’s nothin’ in this world I hate as much as a goddamn bomb. Goddamn cowards. They think they’re gonna scare people into doin’ what they want. They’re wrong. It just pisses people off, ya’know, brings ‘em together, makes ‘em stronger. New York doesn’t forget. Whoever this is, they’re in for a world of shit.”

Rubbing your palms tiredly down your face, you let out another frustrated sigh. 

“Hey, I know this shit sucks right now. But it ain’t gonna last forever. These fuckers are gonna get what’s comin’ to ‘em. Then you can go back to callin’ people pussies on the radio.”

A tiny smirk curled at the edge of your mouth as you looked across your desk at Frank.

“I wasn’t allowed to use that word.”

“I know. But I also know it’s the one you wanted to use.”

A knowing smirk ghosted over Frank’s lips, and it only made your smile stretch further. You tilted your head to the side as you looked over at him curiously.

“You listened to it?”

“Course. Read your articles too.”

“I didn’t know you were a fan, Frank.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, sweetheart. I was debriefed on you and why I was havin’ to follow your trouble makin’ ass around. It was part of my homework.”

“Whatever you say, Castle. Just let me know if you want me to sign something, or you know, a picture.”

Frank rolled his eyes as a chuckle slipped past his lips, leaning back into the chair as he folded his arms behind his head.

“Think I liked you better when you were mad at me.”

»»———　　———««

Frank tugged at the tie around his neck with a grunt, staring up at the looming courthouse in complete disdain.

“Don’t see why I gotta get all dressed up for this shit.”

“Frank, you’re wearing jeans. I’d hardly say you’re dressed up.”

“You said I gotta wear a tie.”

“Because there’s a dress code.”

“I don’t work here. The hell that gotta do with me?”

“Because I’m the press, and you’re with me.”

Frank let out another irritated grunt as he followed close behind you up the numerous sets of steps.

“I tell you lately I really don’t like your fuckin’ job?”

A loud laugh slipped past your lips at the annoyed look on Frank’s face, placing your hand on his shoulder when he opened the door for you.

“Sorry Castle, but since you and Ellison both seem to agree that I can’t do my normal job, I’m being forced to take the ones I’m given, which apparently includes interviewing politicians.”

Frank stared down at you in contempt as he rolled his eyes, motioning for you to go inside.

“Fuckin’ hate politics.”

Giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze, you flashed him a grin.

“You and me both. I’ll try to make this as quick as humanly possible.”

As the elevator brought you and Frank up to the fourth floor, you took a moment to gloss over the interview questions Ellison had sent you. It was a last minute favor to him since the journalist originally doing this piece had called out sick, and you hadn’t had a chance to prep like you normally do.

“Who is it?”

“I’m not sure, one of the candidates running for District Attorney. I don’t normally cover this stuff.”

The elevator doors parted with a ding, and Frank followed close behind you as you made your way over towards the receptionist’s desk. There was an older redheaded woman at the desk in the center of the lobby that greeted you with a smile.

“Hi there. How can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m here for a meeting with a-”

Glancing down at the paper in your hand, your eyes searched for the name of who you were interviewing, when suddenly a familiar voice rang in your ears.

“Well well well, if it isn’t the prettiest girl in all of New York.”

As you turned your head in the direction of the voice, you instantly stilled, and your eyes nearly doubled in size.

“Steven?”

“Hey beautiful.”

“What…what are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you.”

“What?”

Flashing you a grin he thought came off as charming, Steven motioned towards the paper in your hand with his finger as he walked over towards you.

“You’re interviewing me.”

Blinking a few times in dumbfoundment, your lips parted in almost shock as you stared down at the paper in your hands.

District Attorney Candidate: Steven Price.

No fucking way. There was no fucking way this was happening right now.

Twisting your face up in confusion, you cocked your head to the side as you stared at him in complete disbelief.

“Wait, you’re running for District Attorney?”

“You sound surprised.”

“Considering you would have a wrap sheet the length of my arm if your father wasn’t who he was, yeah. I am.”

Slipping his hands into his pockets, Steven’s lips parted into a wide grin as he let his eyes shamelessly wander over your body.

“Aww, you remember. That’s cute. C’mon, we can keep reminiscing in my office.” 

Steven’s smile fell immediately when his gaze finally landed on Frank, as if he suddenly noticed his presence. How the hell he managed to miss the walking brick wall behind you that was Frank Castle, you weren’t sure, but Steven was nothing if not self-involved.

“You can wait out here.”

“The hell I can.”

Frank’s voice was rougher than usual when it came out, and you didn’t miss the way it made the Adam's apple in Steven’s throat bob. You fought the smirk that threatened to curl at the edge of your mouth as you took a step closer towards Frank and gently rested your hand on his arm.

“This is Frank. He’s with me.”

Steven’s blue eyes darted back and forth between yours and Frank’s, standing up a little straighter as he squared his shoulders in an attempt to make himself look bigger.

“Does he have to be?”

“I go where she goes.”

As he looked at you for confirmation, you lightly shrugged your shoulders in Steven’s direction with a playful smile. 

“I wouldn’t bother arguing with him.”

Flashing Frank a look of complete dissatisfaction, Steven quickly tried to recompose himself as he plastered a tight lipped smile on his mouth.

“Alright then. This way.”

Interviewing your ex-boyfriend from college was certainly not on your agenda for today, and you were already rehearsing all of the creative ways you were going to cuss out Ellison when you got back to your office. Frank stood stoically by the door, hand over his wrist, with his intimidating gaze focused solely on Steven.

“So, how you been? You look great by the way. Better than great, actually. Somehow you’ve gotten even prettier.”

Backhanded compliments. Classic Steven Price.

Clearing your throat, you pulled out your notebook and a pen from your bag, keeping your eyes on the interview guide that Ellison had given you. Unlocking your phone, you searched for your voice notes app.

“You mind if I record this?”

“You can do whatever the hell you want with me princess, you know that.”

Glancing up briefly to meet his eyes, you were met with a cocky smirk that you were all too familiar with. You always hated when he called you that, and you were certain you told him that every time he had. Completely ignoring his question, you pressed record and set your phone on his desk.

“Mr. Price-”

“Babe, c’mon. That sounds so formal. You know me. You can call me Steven.”

You wanted to gag at the way he made it sound like a privilege to use his first name.

“Alright, Steven. What made you want to run for District Attorney?”

“Seemed like a great gig.”

“That…that’s it?”

Steven pursed his lips as he gave a light shrug, crossing his fingers together as he laid his hands on his chest and aimlessly swiveled his chair from left to right.

“Um…okay. What do you feel is most important-”

“You been to that place in uptown? New one that just opened?”

“What?”

“It’s a high end sushi place. You know, your favorite. Anyway, I own it-”

Narrowing your eyes slightly, you pursed your lips and gave a light shake of your head.

“That was your favorite, actually.”

A huge grin broke out across Steven’s face as he sank his top teeth into his bottom lip.

“You remember.”

“I was very good at remembering things, Steven. Can we focus?”

“We should go.”

“Go where?”

“To my restaurant.”

“I hate sushi.”

“No you don’t, we used to go all the time.”

“Because you wanted to go all the time. Can we please get back to the interview?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you willed your eyes to focus on the next question while tucking your hair behind your ears.

“What has been the greatest reward of running your campaign?”

“Getting to see you again.”

Slamming your notebook shut, you pressed the button on your phone to stop recording and stared over at him sharply.

“Are you going to answer any of these questions seriously? This article is about you and you’re giving me nothing to work with.”

Steven rolled his eyes as he sat up straighter, leaning his elbows on his desk as he looked over at you with another ingenuine smirk.

“Why don’t we discuss them over dinner?”

“Why don’t you answer them now so I can do my job? I have a deadline.”

“Tell you what, I’ll have my assistant email those answers over by the end of the day, and I’ll send a car for you Friday. Where do you live now?”

You couldn’t help but gawk at the audacity flowing from his privileged mouth. 

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“Of course not. I’ll come pick you up Friday, alone, and we can catch up.”

Steven glared over in Frank’s direction as he emphasized the word ‘alone’, and before you could respond, Frank’s hardened voice boomed throughout the office.

“Yeah, that ain’t happenin’.”

Frank had been so quiet, you almost forgot that he was there. You were suddenly nervous to turn around and see what his face looked like. Steven glowered over at him, clearly feeling emboldened behind the “safety” of his fancy desk.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t talking to you…John, was it? You know this really isn’t necessary, you being here. I’d actually prefer it if you waited outside.”

“And I’d prefer if you answered her fuckin’ questions so we could be on our way.”

Steven chuckled humorlessly as he ran a hand through his neatly cropped blonde hair, looking over at you while gesturing towards Frank.

“Who is this guy? A little old for an intern, isn’t he?”

“He’s my bodyguard, and his name is Frank.”

Steven stared at you silently for a moment before his eyes trailed over to Frank, the confidence in them dissipating slowly. It seemed like he was really looking at Frank for the first time, like he was finally paying attention to him since the first encounter in the lobby, and you noticed the way he visibly tensed when his eyes wandered over his large form.

“What do you need a bodyguard for?”

“Pissed some people off I shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, well…you were always good at that.”

“The fuck is that s’posed to mean?”

Steven rolled his eyes as an irritated expression took over his features, pointing his finger towards the door.

“Could you just wait outside, man? She’s safe with me, alright.”

“That ain’t for you to decide.”

“Oh? And who needs to sign my permission slip?”

You heard the thunder of Frank’s boots crossing the short distance on the floor, and you instantly reached out to grab onto his wrist once he reached you to halt his angry movements. Steven scrambled all the way back in his chair, pushing away from his desk as he stared up at Frank with wide eyes.

“Frank-”

“Me. And as far as I can tell, your candyass would be fuckin’ worthless if it came down to it. Pretty sure if I came behind that fuckin’ desk right now, the only goddamn thing you would know how to do is call daddy for help, yeah?”

Rising up from your chair, you gripped onto Frank’s wrist a little tighter and moved to stand in front of him to put some distance between him and Steven. You placed your palm flat against his broad chest to capture his attention, momentarily stunned by the anger that was burning in his eyes once they snapped down to you. As your lips parted slightly, you pleaded with your eyes for him to calm down as you whispered quietly.

“Easy, big guy. He’s not worth the trouble. He’s just being a dick, alright?”

Frank clenched his jaw as he looked over your head at Steven, his nostrils flaring slightly as he gave him an unimpressed once over.

“Asshole’s gonna be eatin’ out of a fuckin’ straw the next couple months if he don’t cut the shit.”

Sinking your teeth down into your bottom lip to stifle the giggles that threatened to slip, you gave a slight nod of your head.

“If he acts up again, you have my full permission. But for now, please don’t mangle him. We are in a courthouse.”

Frank glanced down at you, his dark eyes slightly softer as he grunted lowly, giving Steven one more angry glare before he let out a heavy exhale and took four steps back to stand directly behind your chair. It took every ounce of self control not to smirk as you turned around to face Steven, gesturing to him with the paper in your hand containing the interview questions.

“Look, I think we should just call it a day. I’m not even supposed to be writing this article. I’ll tell my boss you couldn’t make it, and the guy that was supposed to be writing this can deal with you.”

Steven suddenly shot up as you reached for your bag and held his hand out.

“Wait, no. Don’t…c’mon, don’t go. I don’t want someone else writing it. I want you to. You actually know me, you can make me look good-”

“That’s not what I’m here to do, Steven. I came here to ask questions and get answers, and write an article based on those answers. How the article reflects you is solely up to you.”

Steven let out a displeased sigh as he settled his hands on his hips, lightly nodding his head in your direction.

“Alright. Alright, no more bullshit.”

Steven refused to look at Frank as he sat back down, his cerulean eyes nervously watching you as he flashed you a timid smile. Letting out a heavy sigh, you slowly sat back down and started recording again, clicking the top of your pen as you looked at him.

“Why do you really want to be District Attorney?”

“It’s the next step in my career.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be good at it?”

“I come from a long line of successful politicians that made it their life’s work to give back to the city and make it a better place.”

“That’s not what I asked. What makes you think you will be good at it?”

“Well clearly you haven’t done your homework, or you’d know I’m a pretty damn good attorney. Never lost a case.”

Steven’s wink simultaneously made you nauseous and also lit a fire within you. Cocking your head to the side lightly, you narrowed your eyes and smacked your lips together.

“I got handed this piece this morning, so no, I didn’t have time to prep. You still haven’t answered my question.”

“I don’t understand?”

“Of course you don’t. Okay um…what’s the most important issue to you? What’s the priority for your campaign?”

“Vigilantes.”

Your eyes immediately flew up from the paper at that word, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter as you stared over at him.

“What about them?”

“Well, they’re a problem. I mean…isn’t that why you need him?”

Steven chuckled lightly as he looked up at Frank, abruptly switching his attention back to you as he clamped his mouth shut.

“No. I need Frank because a bunch of cowards think they’re making a difference by blowing up New York, and I told them how I really felt about them.”

Steven rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, chuckling with a shake of his head.

“That’s because you always have to be difficult. Always have to have the last word. You can’t ever let anything go, Y/N. It’s always a fight with you. You know, people would respect you more and like you more if you weren’t always so combative. You know if you were…softer…not so loud-”

“You keep runnin’ your goddamn mouth like that, I’m really gonna enjoy puttin’ my foot up your ass. Watch how you fuckin’ talk to her.”

Dismissing Frank with a wave of your hand behind you, an incredulous scoff left your mouth as you stared at Steven with narrowed eyes. 

“So you think it’s okay for a group of terrorists to threaten me because I hurt their feelings?”

“What? No, of course not. I just…I mean you kinda brought it on yourself. Look, these guys, these…’Defenders of Freedom’, they’re a problem, and one I personally plan to take care of as DA. Especially if you’re involved. But vigilantes are a bigger problem.”

A look of complete incredulity covered your features as you scoffed, digging your nails so hard into your palm, you thought you might bleed.

“How are vigilantes a bigger problem than terrorists-”

“Because they think they’re above the law.”

“And these people don’t? At least vigilantes are actually trying to help people. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen put Wilson Fisk away, and brought down a lot of corrupt cops and politicians, some of which worked for your father, I might add. Jessica Jones brought down not one, but two powered killers. Luke Cage saved Harlem-”

“What about the Punisher?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Frank stiffen, but you were so enraged you couldn’t hardly think straight. You dug further crescent shaped indentations into your palm, sitting up even straighter as you tilted your chin up in a sign of defiance.

“What about him?”

“That psycho killed over 60 people, that we know of. He turned New York into a fucking war zone, Y/N.”

“He wiped out three of the most dangerous gangs in the city. As far as some officers were concerned, he did them a favor.”

“He shot up a hospital-”

“No one got hurt-”

“You aren’t seriously defending that lunatic. A killer is a killer, Y/N. He thought he was doing the city a favor, just like these guys are. Anyone can decide that they’re the good guy that knows what’s best. That’s the problem with vigilantes. There is a reason we have a justice system-”

“You of all people know how easily that justice gets manipulated.”

Steven set his lips in a firm line as he stared at you, eyeing you silently before shaking his head adamantly.

“There is a system, I never said it was perfect, but we have laws in place, and people to uphold them. Daredevil goes around beating the shit out of people and committing felonies every night and calls it justice. Jessica Jones has committed murder more than once, and it was excused as justice. Luke Cage is an ex-convict that notoriously assaults police officers, and calls it justice. You see the pattern here?”

Clenching your fists tightly, you tried to contain how they trembled with rage.

“I think we’re done here. Thank you for your time, Mr. Price.”

Turning off the recording, you vexingly shoved everything into your bag, abruptly standing up to pull it over your shoulder. Steven shot up from his chair to rush over towards you.

“Y/N-”

Frank swiftly placed his body between yours and Steven’s, completely blocking your view of him.

“You take one step closer, I’m gonna make good on my promise.”

An exhausted sigh slipped past your lips as you lightly grasped at the back of Frank’s shirt.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Another sigh fell from your mouth when he didn’t budge, and you tugged at his shirt harder.

“Let’s go, Frank.”

The second the elevator doors shut, Frank turned to face you, arching one of his dark brows in question as he gave you a pointed look. You rolled your eyes and leaned your head against the wall with a quiet groan.

“Don’t start.”

“How the hell do you know that asshole?”

“I said don’t start.”

“That’s too damn bad. I need to know.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my goddamn job, that’s why.”

Rubbing at your temples as you closed your eyes, you practically sprinted out of the elevator once the doors opened.

“Your job is to protect me, Frank. Not to be in my business.”

“Sorry to break it to ya, sweetheart, but your business is my business now. I gotta know who you’re gonna be around so I can-”

“I’m not gonna be around him. I had to interview him to cover someone’s article. That’s it. This is a one time thing-”

“He asked you on a date.”

“So?”

Frank grabbed your wrist to stop you from rushing down the steps, and the force nearly pulled you directly back into his chest. You tilted your head back to look up at him in puzzlement.

“You goin’?”

“What?”

“With him, on a date.”

“Are you seriously asking me that-”

“Yes I’m fuckin’ serious. I gotta know who you’re around. We need to know who to keep tabs on. Anyone could try to-”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend from college, Frank. He’s not a threat. And no, I’m not going on a date with him. Happy?”

Frank’s jaw immediately tensed, and his eyes narrowed as he stared down at you in very clear disappointment. Letting out a dry scoff, he shook his head in disbelief before looking down at you again with an emotion in his eyes that almost looked like disgust.

“The hell did you see in him?”

You had always known that Steven was a shitty boyfriend. That was never something you questioned. But sometimes you forgot just how shitty he was towards you. As you stared up into Frank’s deep brown eyes, Steven’s words echoed around in your head, and it made your heart sink with dejection. 

You always have to be difficult.

You brought this on yourself.

People would respect you more if you weren’t always so combative. 

People would like you more if you were softer, not so loud.

Steven never supported you. He never took the time to read something you wrote, even when you begged. He spoke over you when you were talking, constantly dismissed your feelings, and made it his personal mission to make you feel small. He never wanted you to shine brighter than him. He never wanted you to disagree with him. He tried to fit you into a locket of his liking and wear you around his neck like a prize. He never loved you. He loved the idea of you he had crafted in his head. And when you shattered that illusion, he despised you and tore you down with his words.

Frank would never treat you that way. 

Frank never once made a negative comment about why he ended up being your protection. Hell, even Billy hadn’t. Ellison had encouraged you to write the article. He gave the approval. 

Frank read your work. Frank listened to your interview. Frank came to your defense every single time. 

He treated you better than anyone ever had. Even when you were in the wrong, and you antagonized him, he was still so gentle with you in his own way. He remembered little things about you. He apologized when he raised his voice or lost his temper. He offered comfort when you needed it. He listened to you.

And now as he stood in front of you, you couldn’t answer him.

“I…I don’t know.”

Frank’s face all of a sudden softened at the somber tone of your voice and the downcast look in your eyes. For a moment, the two of you stood there on the steps, silently staring into each other’s eyes. 

Clearing his throat, Frank looked away and nodded with his head in an aimless direction.

“We uh…should get goin’.”

Glancing down at your feet, you closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to compose yourself, giving a slight nod of your head as you turned around to descend the steps.

“Yeah, we should.”

tags: @hopeful-evermore @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @neverlandcity @charmedkim

[blackwoolncrown]

Reading list for Afro-Herbalism:

A Healing Grove: African Tree Remedies and Rituals for the Body and Spirit by Stephanie Rose Bird

Affrilachia: Poems by Frank X Walker

African American Medicine in Washington, D.C.: Healing the Capital During the Civil War Era by Heather Butts

African American Midwifery in the South: Dialogues of Birth, Race, and Memory by Gertrude Jacinta Fraser

African American Slave Medicine: Herbal and Non-Herbal Treatments by Herbert Covey

African Ethnobotany in the Americas edited by Robert Voeks and John Rashford

Africanisms in the Gullah Dialect by Lorenzo Dow Turner

Africans and Native Americans: The Language of Race and the Evolution of Red-Black Peoples by Jack Forbes

African Medicine: A Complete Guide to Yoruba Healing Science and African Herbal Remedies by Dr. Tariq M. Sawandi, PhD

Afro-Vegan: Farm-Fresh, African, Caribbean, and Southern Flavors Remixed by Bryant Terry

Barracoon: The Story of the Last “Black Cargo” by Zora Neale Hurston

Big Mama’s Back in the Kitchen by Charlene Johnson

Big Mama’s Old Black Pot by Ethel Dixon

Black Belief: Folk Beliefs of Blacks in America and West Africa by Henry H. Mitchell

Black Diamonds, Vol. 1 No. 1 and Vol. 1 Nos. 2–3 edited by Edward J. Cabbell

Black Faces, White Spaces: Reimagining the Relationship of African Americans to the Great Outdoors by Carolyn Finney

Black Food Geographies: Race, Self-Reliance, and Food Access in Washington, D.C. by Ashanté M. Reese

Black Indian Slave Narratives edited by Patrick Minges

Black Magic: Religion and the African American Conjuring Tradition by Yvonne P. Chireau

Black Nature: Four Centuries of African American Nature Poetry edited by Camille T. Dungy

Blacks in Appalachia edited by William Turner and Edward J. Cabbell

Caribbean Vegan: Meat-Free, Egg-Free, Dairy-Free Authentic Island Cuisine for Every Occasion by Taymer Mason

Dreams of Africa in Alabama: The Slave Ship Clotilda and the Story of the Last Africans Brought to America by Sylviane Diouf

Faith, Health, and Healing in African American Life by Emilie Townes and Stephanie Y. Mitchem

Farming While Black: Soul Fire Farm’s Practical Guide to Liberation on the Land by Leah Penniman

Folk Wisdom and Mother Wit: John Lee – An African American Herbal Healer by John Lee and Arvilla Payne-Jackson

Four Seasons of Mojo: An Herbal Guide to Natural Living by Stephanie Rose Bird

Freedom Farmers: Agricultural Resistance and the Black Freedom Movement by Monica White

Fruits of the Harvest: Recipes to Celebrate Kwanzaa and Other Holidays by Eric Copage

George Washington Carver by Tonya Bolden

George Washington Carver: In His Own Words edited by Gary Kremer

God, Dr. Buzzard, and the Bolito Man: A Saltwater Geechee Talks About Life on Sapelo Island, Georgia by Cornelia Bailey

Gone Home: Race and Roots through Appalachia by Karida Brown

Ethno-Botany of the Black Americans by William Ed Grime

Gullah Cuisine: By Land and by Sea by Charlotte Jenkins and William Baldwin

Gullah Culture in America by Emory Shaw Campbell and Wilbur Cross

Gullah/Geechee: Africa’s Seeds in the Winds of the Diaspora-St. Helena’s Serenity by Queen Quet Marquetta Goodwine

High on the Hog: A Culinary Journey from Africa to America by Jessica Harris and Maya Angelou

Homecoming: The Story of African-American Farmers by Charlene Gilbert

Hoodoo Medicine: Gullah Herbal Remedies by Faith Mitchell

Jambalaya: The Natural Woman’s Book of Personal Charms and Practical Rituals by Luisah Teish

Just Medicine: A Cure for Racial Inequality in American Health Care by Dayna Bowen Matthew

Leaves of Green: A Handbook of Herbal Remedies by Maude E. Scott

Like a Weaving: References and Resources on Black Appalachians by Edward J. Cabbell

Listen to Me Good: The Story of an Alabama Midwife by Margaret Charles Smith and Linda Janet Holmes

Making Gullah: A History of Sapelo Islanders, Race, and the American Imagination by Melissa Cooper

Mandy’s Favorite Louisiana Recipes by Natalie V. Scott

Medical Apartheid: The Dark History of Medical Experimentation on Black Americans from Colonial Times to the Present by Harriet Washington

Mojo Workin’: The Old African American Hoodoo System by Katrina Hazzard-Donald

Motherwit: An Alabama Midwife’s Story by Onnie Lee Logan as told to Katherine Clark

My Bag Was Always Packed: The Life and Times of a Virginia Midwife by Claudine Curry Smith and Mildred Hopkins Baker Roberson

My Face Is Black Is True: Callie House and the Struggle for Ex-Slave Reparations by Mary Frances Berry

My Grandmother's Hands: Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menakem

On Her Own Ground: The Life and Times of Madam C.J. Walker by A'Lelia Bundles

Papa Jim’s Herbal Magic Workbook by Papa Jim

Places for the Spirit: Traditional African American Gardens by Vaughn Sills (Photographer), Hilton Als (Foreword), Lowry Pei (Introduction)

Post Traumatic Slave Syndrome by Dr. Joy DeGruy

Rooted in the Earth: Reclaiming the African American Environmental Heritage by Diane Glave

Rufus Estes’ Good Things to Eat: The First Cookbook by an African-American Chef by Rufus Estes

Secret Doctors: Ethnomedicine of African Americans by Wonda Fontenot

Sex, Sickness, and Slavery: Illness in the Antebellum South by Marli Weiner with Mayzie Hough

Slavery’s Exiles: The Story of the American Maroons by Sylviane Diouf

Soul Food: The Surprising Story of an American Cuisine, One Plate at a Time by Adrian Miller

Spirituality and the Black Helping Tradition in Social Work by Elmer P. Martin Jr. and Joanne Mitchell Martin

Sticks, Stones, Roots & Bones: Hoodoo, Mojo & Conjuring with Herbs by Stephanie Rose Bird

The African-American Heritage Cookbook: Traditional Recipes and Fond Remembrances from Alabama’s Renowned Tuskegee Institute by Carolyn Quick Tillery

The Black Family Reunion Cookbook (Recipes and Food Memories from the National Council of Negro Women) edited by Libby Clark

The Conjure Woman and Other Conjure Tales by Charles Chesnutt

The Home Place: Memoirs of a Colored Man’s Love Affair with Nature by J. Drew Lanham

The Jemima Code: Two Centuries of African American Cookbooks by Toni Tipton-Martin

The President’s Kitchen Cabinet: The Story of the African Americans Who Have Fed Our First Families, from the Washingtons to the Obamas by Adrian Miller

The Taste of Country Cooking: The 30th Anniversary Edition of a Great Classic Southern Cookbook by Edna Lewis

The Tuskegee Syphilis Study: An Insiders’ Account of the Shocking Medical Experiment Conducted by Government Doctors Against African American Men by Fred D. Gray

Trace: Memory, History, Race, and the American Landscape by Lauret E. Savoy

Vegan Soul Kitchen: Fresh, Healthy, and Creative African-American Cuisine by Bryant Terry

Vibration Cooking: Or, The Travel Notes of a Geechee Girl by Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor

Voodoo and Hoodoo: The Craft as Revealed by Traditional Practitioners by Jim Haskins

When Roots Die: Endangered Traditions on the Sea Islands by Patricia Jones-Jackson

Working Conjure: A Guide to Hoodoo Folk Magic by Hoodoo Sen Moise

Working the Roots: Over 400 Years of Traditional African American Healing by Michelle Lee

Wurkn Dem Rootz: Ancestral Hoodoo by Medicine Man

Zora Neale Hurston: Folklore, Memoirs, and Other Writings: Mules and Men, Tell My Horse, Dust Tracks on a Road, Selected Articles by Zora Neale Hurston

The Ways of Herbalism in the African World with Olatokunboh Obasi MSc, RH (webinar via The American Herbalists Guild)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Cant help but notice krubus stardew in the requests,,, so if i may,,,

How about a oneshot/headcanons, whichever ya think works better, for a farmer Reader who's roommates with Krobus, and Shane ends up visiting the farm, and accidentally finds Krobus and the reader is trying their best to calm the situation down or smthn? :]

Ofc you dont have to do this!!

Salt anon (have a good day also!!! always lovely to see ya on my dash :] )

YES MY TWO FAVES <3333

Got carried away but I had so many ideas for this one

.......

'I should check the coop. The void chicken could be hungry, and [y/n] may appreciate me stepping up. But...what if a human saw me? Oh Yoba...I hope there's no surprise visitors today..'

As Krobus paced around your cabin, he kept looking outside the window at the snowfall, the coop just within his sights. It was the second day of winter, and all of the animals you've been raising were huddled inside for the season, the hay keeping their bellies full.

But something told him that the void chicken you recently introduced to the farm felt lonely, a misfit among the "normal" chickens. She wasn't too sociable around them, and that worried Krobus.

Of course he, of all people, could understand why.

To this very day, the shadow monster couldn't fathom why you'd take him into your home..when his existence alone scared humanity and could damage your reputation with the town.

What would the villagers think if they learned you're housing a beast who once dwelled in the mines?

Many weren't anywhere near as brave as you were when it comes to venturing deep into shadow monster territory....and the few who had the guts to made it their personal mission to slay as many of his people as possible.

Or at least..what remained of them after the elemental wars.

Surprisingly enough, some of the brutes began visiting your farmland at night, and Krobus would see them hiding in the foliage, behind trees..or even rummaging through your crops, yet never taking anything for themselves.

He wishes he could greet them normally, ask what drew them to the surface, or try to reason that you're a good human who shouldn't be attacked.

Yet in the back of his mind...he feared being branded a traitor for siding with the species that hurt so many of his own people.

What would they do if they noticed his pendant and realized a human gifted it to him?

Surely they would freak out, coerce him into coming back to the mines where it was "safe"...or worse, they'd kill you and make him watch. He couldn't let his presence be known, lest they discovered you were housing him and destroyed the life you built here.

You would think he betrayed you and brought a siege upon your land--after all you've done to shelter him from the cruelty of the world.

Not even Yoba would forgive such a sin.

Even though he felt his connection with his people drifting with each passing week, he was content with his choice to live with you. He wouldn't trade your kindness and generosity for the world.

Plus, you've told him over and over that you knew what you were signing up for. You knew it when you first bought a void egg from him. You knew it when you and the wizard broke up his fight with Dwarf. You knew it when you created a space in your home that suited his environmental needs.

All he could offer you was a stardrop in return, but it was more than enough for you.

Krobus vowed to contribute to the farm's many tasks how ever he could..when it safe for him to step outside of course.

On this cold winter's day, he figured checking out the coop would be a great first step.

He peeked into your bedroom, discovering you to be sound asleep and looking rather peaceful.

Indeed, it was a stark contrast to how battered and bruised you were last night, having returned from the Skull Caverns at midnight. None of his people ventured there, considering the desert climate would be unbearable for them to live in, but while sharing meals he'd listen to your tales of serpents, mummies, and even dinosaurs living down below.

By comparison..the monsters in the mines seemed tamer and were somewhat civilized, and at his request you managed to avoid fighting them if you could.

The beasts you encountered in the Skull Caverns were brutal and unforgiving, and you had no choice but to defend yourself.

This trip in particular took quite a toll on your body, as you had to use a warp totem to get home...and even then, you were limping from sheer exhaustion. So much so Krobus had to assist you up the stairs and into your bed. He ran the the risk of being seen, yet his concern over your health took priority.

Sleep didn't easily come for him, but it only did after he prayed and thanked Yoba for bringing you home.

He didn't like the idea of you pushing yourself to work so early in the morning, so he decided he'll help lighten that load.

Starting with the coop.

Opening the door, he breathed in the crisp winter air, relieved to not see any humans in sight. There was your pet, who was initially frightened by his sudden arrival, but now warmly greeted him as they climbed the steps.

Krobus laughed softly, crouching down to pet them. "Good morning, little one." He whispered. "Enjoying the snow? I like it very much..but I can't say our chicken friends will agree."

He stood and continued on his way to the small building, eager to check up on your animals and see to it that they're fed.

But unbeknownst to him, a human arrived onto your farmland at that same moment, only seeing a dark figure creeping into the coop.

And he just so-happened to be the man who cared for chickens more than life itself.

......

Shane arrived at your farm, holding a small envelope with a letter inside. It contained a recipe for some dessert--not one that he made or discovered, of course, but rather one he tore out of a magazine.

His first thought was of you, knowing you liked gathering fresh produce and made your own meals..compared to him, a lazy bum who microwaves processed garbage in a plastic dish and called it "dinner."

It wasn't much, but it was the least he could do for a friend who pulled him out of such a dark place..

You were taking a shortcut to the sewer when you found him near the cliffs...where he was truly at his lowest. He doesn't remember much of what he said, but you told him that he considered ending his own life, yet changed his mind after you told him some comforting words.

All the strength you've gained down in the mines allowed you to drag him to the hospital, where you stayed by his side the entire night. Even when Harvey assured you he'll be okay, you refused to abandon him.

Shane never thought anybody in this town would care if he just up and disappeared, yet despite his rudeness towards you...you managed to break down his walls and show him that you cared.

And all it took were some peppers, pizza, eggs, and stupid amounts of persistence.

It really hit him that he almost did something he couldn't reverse..and he never wanted you, Jas, or Marnie to see him get that bad again.

So he promised to make some serious changes, see that counselor Harvey recommended to him, and cut back on the hours he spends at the saloon after work.

The last time you both talked, you mentioned Robin upgrading your coop's space, and Shane was thrilled. So he figured he'd come visit and see how the animals were doing in this cold weather.

He was also curious about that "void egg" you got from a merchant...and he wondered who it was if not Marnie.

Obviously he'd feel like a jerk if he came emptyhanded, or awkward if you weren't actually home right now, thus he decided to bring the letter and recipe just in case. A small surprise "gift" for you to come back to later.

As he approached your mailbox, however, he noticed a dark figure opening the door to your coop. He couldn't tell who it was as they quickly went inside, as though afraid of being seen.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep making him see things, but-

"Huh? What kinda tracks are these..?" He looked down, finding footprints in the snow that didn't belong to any human's.

In fact, they seemed to have clawed toes..

Just like a monster's.

At the saloon, you recounted tales of how you've encountered slimes, plant monsters, bats, and even shadow creatures on your farmland at night--as well as your adventures down in the mines with skeletons, ghosts, and more.

Most of the regulars were 99% certain you were drunk, but others believed your stories and were fascinated by them, as you'd show them gems as proof of your excursions. Sebastian in particular was intrigued by the frozen tear you discovered, flattered that you allowed him to keep it.

Shane, on the other hand, merely dismissed your tales with a "buh" and an eyeroll before sipping away at his beer. He was never a strong believer in the supernatural..convinced that only slimes, rock crabs, flies, and bats dwelled in the mines and nothing else.

Living Skeletons? Metal Heads?? Shadow Shamans???

You HAD to be either drunk, on drugs, or both at the same time.

Although he's become more open-minded to your stories since befriending you, he was still skeptical...yet the footprints he was seeing in the snow didn't match up to any animal he knew in the valley.

Whatever it was, it must've figured out that your coop was an all-you-can-eat-buffet.

That thought alone made him break out into a cold sweat, picking up a stone before rushing towards the building. He didn't hear any noise inside, and that made him all the more concerned.

You helped him when he needed it most, and now he'll repay you by defending your chickens...even though he knew nothing about fighting monsters.

Upon opening the door, he was stunned to find a shadowy humanoid creature holding your void chicken in its arms. It had a goopy smile on its face, looking down at the bird-

Before there was a furious shout.

"HEY! Put that chicken down!"

.........

"HEY! Put that chicken down!"

Just as you were tuning into the Oracle's channel on TV, you were startled by the sound of Shane yelling at someone-

Wait..

'What's Shane doing on my farm? And at this hour, too?? I thought he sleeps in all the time..' Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked around the house.

"Krobus? You in here? I may have a visitor."

No response.

You checked the monster's room, and sure enough didn't find him in there.

Normally he'd freak out and hide beneath your bed if he even caught a glimpse of a human outside. You'd always tell him ahead of time if a friend was coming to visit just so he knew when and how long to stay hidden.

Of course, you never liked having to keep Krobus a secret, yet you understood why he believed that was for the best. He was so, so afraid to go with you even after gifting him the void ghost pendant--a precious amulet from his culture, symbolizing unity and devotion to another.

His worst fear was you being shunned and getting hurt because of him. But you promised to make things work, and so far you've had no problems.

The only other place he'd go besides your cabin was the coop, having grown fond of the animals there and the void chicken you were raising. The winter allowed him to bond with them.

But if he's there right now..and you just heard Shane yell, then-

'Oh fuck.'

Throwing on your boots and jacket, you rushed out the door, damn near slipping on the pathway to the coop.

You opened the door, finding Shane staring down your terrified roommate with anger, ready to throw a stone at who he believed was a monster trying to eat your livestock.

But as he reeled his arm back, he was confused by your hand grabbing his wrist. "Huh?! Hey! Let go!" He grunted.

"Shane, what the hell are you doing?!"

For a moment, he blinked and stared at you as though you had several heads. "What does it look like? I'm....that thing was trying to eat your chickens!" He pointed to Krobus, who was now curled up in the corner, having let go of the void chicken long ago.

"That's one of the monsters you were talking about, right? Don't you have a sword or something that could-?"

"He's not a threat."

Shane froze. "..huh?"

"His name is Krobus. He's a shadow person I met in the sewers." Letting him go, you opted to stand between the two. Krobus immediately got up and latched onto your shirt, hiding behind you for protection.

"The sewers? Jas and Vincent said they saw a monster through the grates, but I thought it was some imaginary friend."

"Well news flash, he's real. And right now he's more scared of you." You huffed. "Now please..put the rock down."

After some hesitance, he complied and dropped the stone. "Fine..sorry. I thought it--he was trying to-"

"I would never harm one of Yoba's precious creatures!" Krobus snapped, despite his voice trembling. "Especially not one that [y/n] so lovingly raised."

"You...understand what I'm saying?" Shane looked astonished.

"Of course.." The shadow monster calmed down a little, but redirected his anger to you. "You..we had an agreement. You promised to tell me if someone was coming."

"I didn't know he was here at all." You frowned. "You could've told me you were checking out the coop."

"But you were so weary from last night, and I thought you'd appreciate sleeping in-!"

"Look..if it helps, I can just leave and pretend none of this ever happened."

Both of you looked at Shane, who was slowly making his way to the door, only for him to stop as you sighed.

There's no way you could hide this now..

"Stay. This isn't something you can "pretend" never happened. Let's all head back to my house and I'll explain everything. Maybe we can come to an understanding without any violence. Whatdya say, boys?"

Shane and Krobus briefly glanced at each other, before silently nodding.

.........

"So basically...you got chased out of your home by Dwarves, had some great war with them, got cozy in the sewers...and [y/n] just...stumbled upon you?"

"Erm..slight correction, the local librarian had a key to the sewers, which [y/n] obtained. And only then they stumbled upon me-"

"After I donated like 60 artifacts to the museum, of course." You added on as you stood by the oven, watching the timer.

For a brief moment, you looked back at the two people sitting awkwardly at the table:

Shane, who was still wondering if the shadow monster sitting across from him was really a monster, a hallucination from his withdrawals, or just..someone in a SUPER convincing costume.

And Krobus, who stared at this scruffy, tired man who desperately needed a shave and a new jacket--the only other human he's spoken to aside from you and Rasmodius.

"Wow..I'd say I need a drink, but um..I'm in recovery right now. So I gotta cut back on those." Shane admitted, scratching awkwardly at his hair. "Do you like living on this farm with [y/n], Krobus?"

"It was...a difficult transition. Something I never expected to happen." He fidgeted with the pendant around his neck. "Our existence..terrifies humans. They attacked us when we came to the surface to make peace, so we stopped and hid back underground. We learned the world wasn't kind to those who were different. But [y/n] showed me that not all of them are like that...and I'm grateful for all they've done for me. I don't regret my choice.."

Then he looked to you, suddenly bashful. "A-As long as they don't regret it, of course..sometimes I feel like all of this is a dream. Or some foolish prank.."

"It's no dream or prank, Krob. I have no regrets becoming your friend." You smiled and patted the monster's head reassuringly, before glancing at Shane. "Just like I don't regret befriending this guy."

"Yeah..I was uh..in a pretty bad place myself." He mumbled, suddenly finding the weather outside more interesting.

"You said your name was "Shane", right?"

He blinked, looking back to Krobus. "Uh yeah?"

"Did you know that means "gift from Yoba"?" His eyes lit up, smiling from ear-to-ear as he clasped his hands together. "You should be proud of it! You are a blessed child of.....um...what's with that look?"

Shane's expression abruptly shifted to one of discomfort, and he couldn't help but shrink back. "Did..I say something wrong? W-Was I out of line?"

"No, no. I probably should've mentioned this sooner, but I'm actually atheist."

"....as in...you don't believe in Yoba?"

Reluctantly, Shane nodded and averted his gaze once more, expecting some kind of lecture or change in his friendly tone that would make this his first and last conversation with him.

Nobody liked it when he mentioned how he stopped believing in Yoba long ago, especially after what happened with Jas' parents and how his life just plummeted into a downward spiral since then. He feels like his name was cruel joke, and he had a pit in his stomach whenever he was reminded of it.

So now he was fully expecting this devout monster to spew something vile and call him a "horrible nonbeliever"-

"Why the guilty face?"

"..wha?" He did a double-take, seeing Krobus' smile return.

"I've observed humans long enough to understand their religious preferences, or lack thereof. We have our beliefs, and you have yours..and that is okay." He reassured. "No need to feel ashamed, Shane."

It took the man a few moments to process his words..before a small smile appeared on his face as well, shoulders less tense than before. "Whew..thanks. Seriously..you're somehow more understanding than all the people in my life." He chuckled dryly.

Krobus was about to respond, when the ding from your kitchen timer made the two pause their conversation, seeing you take something out of the oven.

It was a dessert that had a shimmering purple hue.

"Oh hey..you actually made it?" Shane blinked. "The infamous "Strange Bun"?"

"Yep! It actually looks pretty.." You smiled, setting it on the stove so it could cool down. "I almost don't wanna eat it...but I'm sure we can split it three ways."

"I recognize that dessert." Krobus gasped. "It's considered a delicacy among my people! How I've longed to taste it again....but how did you come to possess its recipe?" He looked to Shane, who simply dug out a crumpled magazine page from his pocket.

"Right here. It looked good, and [y/n] likes cooking stuff and finding the ingredients themselves..so I figured it's something new they could try."

"And it came out fantastic." You chuckled, bringing over plates of the strange bun and sitting down at the table, passing them to your friends. "Dig in, boys."

While Krobus was actively drooling and devouring it with his bare hands, you took a few bites and instantly felt rejuvenated....whereas Shane kept awkwardly poking at it with a fork, eyebrows furrowed.

"You sure this is safe to eat? Like..I'm not gonna keel over, am I?"

"...you're acting like Jas when she doesn't wanna eat her vegetables."

".....shut it." With a grumble, he rolled his eyes before finally taking a couple bites. You and Krobus watched him in anticipation, studying his reaction.

Only to be met with disappointment.

"Eh..I think I'll stick to frozen pizzas, but thanks. Here. It's all yours." He pushed the half-eaten bun towards Krobus, who gleefully finished it up.

"Thank you..this was delightful." The shadow monster swallowed, looking up at you both, frowning slightly. "But I do fear..now that one more person knows of my existence, word may spread to the town and-"

"I won't tell anyone."

"....really?" He looked at Shane, surprised.

"I used to not believe in "shadow people"..I actually thought you guys were just stuff of fiction. But no, you're actually pretty cool. And...I get that feeling of being stuck in a dark place, thinking you're a pest and a burden who has no future to look forward to. It sucks, but [y/n] here..." He paused and gestured to you with a smile. "They pulled me out of that funk, and it seems they'd pulled you out of one, too."

"They have..I-I find this hard to believe, but it seems we have more in common than I first thought." Krobus chuckled softly. "I'm glad we could come to an understanding, and that you embrace my existence, Shane."

"Yeah, uh...glad you can..embrace mine as well." He mumbled, already kicking himself mentally for how weird that sounded. "But tell me..you like caring for chickens, too? I saw that one with the black feathers and red eyes."

"Indeed, that is a void chicken! I've carried their eggs for ages, but the mines weren't suitable enough to raise chicks in. Then [y/n] showed me the coop, and now I know they're in good hands."

"Ah...did you wanna meet Charlie sometime? Or one of my blue chickens?"

"......chickens can be blue?" Krobus had such a starry-eyed look, as though he had just been told the secrets of the universe.

Meanwhile, you were just cleaning the dishes, listening to their conversation delve into chicken care, eggs, and more. And you could only smile, glad to see that your monster roommate was finally warming up to humans.

Only a select few will get to see him, as you didn't wanna compromise his safety...

But for now, Shane is the only one you could trust.