#the face when she bites into that onion the second time

[redrose10]

Here is the second and final chapter. Thank you for all the feedback. I hope everyone likes it!

Idol Husband Yoongi x Female Spouse Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, body insecurity, hints of cheating, jealousy, anxiety, panic attacks, slightly smutty but nothing crazy

Part 1

Part 1.5

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A few days had passed since Yoongi left your home. You needed some space to process everything that had happened and he was willing to give that to you. Luckily, Hana was used to him being gone for periods of time so she didn’t question it too much and went about her days normally.

Yoongi seemed to be handling everything just fine too which only upset you more because you couldn’t understand how he wasn’t a mess. If it wasn’t for Hana needing you then you wouldn’t have gotten out of bed.

If he truly cared about you he would’ve been begging for your forgiveness. It had you questioning a lot of things. Why did he give up so easily? Why hadn’t he tried harder to explain himself? Why did he still have to text you every day to remind you to take your vitamins and drink enough water? Why did he still have to have your favorite breakfast delivered to you every morning knowing you’d be too tired to cook for yourself? Why did he have to remind you about your doctors appointment today when even you forgot about it? You hated that he was still so thoughtful and involved even when he wasn’t there because it made it harder to hate him.

Before your appointment you dropped Hana off at your parents place. She was spending the night there because you wanted her to do something exciting plus you just needed a night to yourself. Your appointment went great. The baby was healthy and you were too so you decided to reward yourself with one of your biggest cravings and a night of relaxing on the couch trying not to think about anything that had happened in the last week.

You had just gotten home with your large pizza covered in pineapple, pickles, and onions with extra anchovies on the side when there was a knock at the door. You sighed before putting the pizza down and slowly getting up to see who was interrupting your peaceful evening.

“Jimin?”, you questioned seeing the smiling man standing in front of you holding up a tub of ice cream. “Hheeeyyyy Y/N. How’s it goin?”, he sang as you stared at him before turning to walk away. “Yoongi’s not here.”, you said knowing that he was just going to follow you anyways.

“Yeah I know.”, he sarcastically said before placing the ice cream into the freezer, “He’s currently moping around on my couch driving me crazy.”

“Sounds like a you and him problem.”, you said taking a bite of your pizza while ignoring the dramatically disgusted face Jimin was making at the sight of it. It tasted like heaven to you thanks to your pregnancy hormones and that’s all that mattered.

Even though you acted indifferent to his news there was a big part of you that felt relief knowing he had been at Jimin’s and not hers.

“Please come get your husband.”, he whined before dropping down into the chair next to you, “Look I love him like a brother, but he’s sooooo annoying when he’s like this. He won’t tell me what happened, but he just keeps sitting there and pouting and if he’s not pouting then he’s crying AND I’m going to have to put a lock on my freezer. He ate my favorite ice cream Y/N. My absolute favorite. I was so excited to come home after a hard day of practice and eat some of my special ice cream but nooooo it was all gone and he didn’t even bother trying to hide the evidence.”

You continued chewing as you mulled over his words. “I didn’t know he was like that.”, you mumbled before taking another bite.

“Yeah tell me about it. He doesn’t even like caramel or white chocolate.”, Jimin scoffed.

“Has he really been crying?”, you questioned. You had known Yoongi a long time and you had only ever seen him cry once, on the day Hana was born and they were tears of joy. He certainly never cried over your relationship before, at least to your knowledge. That was not like him. He always wanted to come off as strong to you, even when he was struggling.

Jimin nodded, “Yeah he is a total wreck. He keeps mumbling something about being stupid and a divorce and then he starts crying again.”

“Divorce…?”, you whispered.

“Hey uh I hate to pry and I know it’s not really my place, but what happened between you two? I’ve never seen him like this so it must’ve been pretty bad.”, he hesitantly asked.

“He cheated on me.”, you answered deciding to just rip the bandage off.

Jimin laughed which made you quickly throw a glare in his direction so he stiffened up and cleared his throat. “No he didn’t.”, he simply said shaking his head, “Yoongi is a lot of things, but cheater is not one of them and he definitely would not have cheated on you.”

“Yeah well tell that to the woman who pulled his tie out of her purse because apparently he left it at her place.”

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock, “WWWHHHAAATT?”

You nodded, “Yep, we were at Hana’s talent show and this woman came up to us and handed him his tie from her purse. You know that cherry tie I gave him for our anniversary? She said he left it at her house. What other reason would there be for him to remove his tie other than sleeping with her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they were eating and he didn’t want to get it dirty? He loves that tie.”, he shrugged.

“Okay then why was he eating at her house to begin with?”, you rolled your eyes, “And he just left. He didn’t even try that hard to explain himself. Maybe he didn’t want the truth to come out.”

“Y/N you know how he is…He’s all about letting things cool down. He probably just didn’t want you getting even more upset and then things would be made worse. He did mention something about the baby and stress and how it’s bad. I don’t know. He’s the one who reads like every baby book ever published.”

Nodding along you started to agree, “I guess...”

Jimin turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow. He tried to speak, but you cut him off, “I don’t blame him to be honest. I mean look at me Jimin. I look like I swallowed a beach ball. I have stretch marks and my boobs are saggy and uneven and that all happened before I even got pregnant for the second time. That woman…she was perfect. She definitely didn’t spend her Friday nights sitting on the couch eating a whole pizza by herself. Why wouldn’t he choose to be with her over me? I bet he doesn’t even find me attractive any more. He probably hasn’t since Hana was born so this was a long time coming anyways.”

You could feel the familiar burning sensation in your waterline and you began to sniffle. Jimin reached over and took your hands into his. Lightly he gave you a squeeze to remind you that he was there for you. “Y/N, deep down you know none of the that is true. Yoongi loves you. He loves you more than anything in this world. He loves every part of you. Trust me. Yoongi loves to brag about you…sometimes a little too much. I still can’t look at a can of whipped cream without feeling weird. And DO NOT even get me started on that cherry neck choker thing he likes you to wear.”

You laughed a little thankful that he was there to help you work through all of this.

“Hey do you remember what that woman’s name was?”, he asked suddenly like he had just thought of something.

You shook your head, “I don’t know. Sarah or Aera or something like that. I kind of blacked out a little.”

Jimin softly chuckled to himself before breaking out into a big smile, “You need to talk to Yoongi. Let him explain and then the two of you need to discuss all of this. Tell him how you’re feeling. It’s not good to bottle this up…for either of you.”

You nodded and whispered a small okay before Jimin grumbled something about going home to save the rest of his ice cream and quickly scurried out of the apartment leaving you to process everything alone.

You were nervous. Hana was spending the second night in a row with your parents and you weren’t sure which one of them was more excited about the extended stay, but you were happy it worked out. Because currently you were pacing around the kitchen waiting for Yoongi to come home. When Jimin came over yesterday he had made it seem like there was a perfectly good explanation for everything that had happened so you texted Yoongi at 3am asking if he wanted to come home for dinner and talk. He responded immediately with a yes and a light scolding for being up so late, but it wasn’t that easy for you to get to sleep.

There was a beep at the door before it opened and shut quickly. Yoongi’s socked feet padded into the kitchen shortly after. The familiar smell of your favorite noodle spot quickly filled the air. He held up the bag with a shy smile and the two of you ate in awkward silence. And when you were done and cleaned up and you couldn’t stall any longer you moved over to the couch to get comfortable. Yoongi took a seat next to you, but still made sure to leave some space unsure of how you would react to him and it killed you that things had gotten so uncomfortable between you both.

“How have you been Y/N?”, he asked.

“Good. You?”

“Alright I guess. I’ve been better.”

You nodded unsure of what else to say.

“I miss you Y/N. I miss you and Hana.”, he said after a while, “I want to come home.”

“Yoongi…are…are you…are you cheating on me?”, you finally questioned wanting to just get it over with. Your bluntness shocked you and him both, but at this point you were tired and you figured what else could it hurt.

You watched his body tense at the question which brought instant tears to your eyes knowing the truth.

Frantically he began wiping away those tears. You wanted to shove him away and tell him not to touch you, but you couldn’t. Having him so close to you. Smelling his cologne that usually signified safety and comfort. Feeling his skin on yours after so long was too much to bare and you needed it.

“Y/N I didn’t cheat on you. I swear on everything I have.”, he whispered trying to keep you calm.

“Then who is she Yoongi? Why did she have your tie and why were you at her place to begin with? Why are you so close with her son?”

He took a deep breath and ran a shaky hand through his hair, “Her name is Aera Kim. She is the new Director of International Relations for the company. She helps coordinate things for us outside of Korea like tours, promotions, merchandising, things like that.”

All you heard was not only is she beautiful, but she’s also really successful and powerful too which didn’t help. Yoongi could see the drop in your demeanor so he turned to look at you so you could see how serious he was.

He continued, “We were at her place a few weeks ago. All of us. All of the guys, our managers, and a few others on the team. We were discussing the upcoming album release and world tour. Things were fine and then she said that they decided to add more tour dates. Five more in the US, three more in Europe, and they want to add a whole leg of the tour in South America plus all of the promotions and interviews that come with that. AND they want Namjoon, Hobi, and I to release an EP for a rap thing.”, he took a deep breath trying to collect his thoughts, “That’s going to add on an extra six months to the tour which was already going to take almost nine months to begin with. Then if we do release this EP there will be EVEN MORE work on top of all of that. Y/N I’ll be gone for well over a year and who knows how much longer. There might be a little break here and there, but not a lot. I’m going to miss so much. I won’t be here for you or Hana or the baby. I’ll miss the baby learning to crawl, maybe even their first steps and first words. Hana already tells everyone how I’m always gone on “bwusiness” and this will only make that worse. It kills me every time I hear her say something like that. I was already struggling with going on this tour to begin with and now it has me questioning everything. I…I just…I don’t know if I can do this any more Y/N. I’ve been thinking about leaving the group. I can just write lyrics or maybe just produce. At least I get to be here more often if I I do that.”

You felt bad for him. You knew it was tough on him at times, but you didn’t know it was to this extreme.

“The more I sat there and thought about it the more I began to panic. If I back out of the group then I’m letting down the guys and the label and of course the fans. If I go on the tour then I’m letting down my family. I got so worked up during the meeting that I had a full blown panic attack. I walked out onto the balcony to get some air, but I still felt like I couldn’t breathe so I took my tie and jacket off because I felt like I was suffocating. Namjoon came out to try and calm me down and after a while they called a car to bring me home. I swear I thought I put the tie in my pocket when I grabbed my jacket so when I couldn’t find it I assumed that I dropped it somewhere or left it in the car, but I guess I left it at her place. I…Y/N I didn’t sleep with her. I promise. I barely speak to her. Her son is a huge fan of mine and he’s friends with Hana at school. Sometimes I let him hang out in my studio so I see her for like thirty seconds while she drops him off and picks him up, but that’s like the most I interact with her outside of business situations.”

Either from relief at getting this off his chest or reliving the stress again or maybe a little of both his shoulders started to shake and he buried his face into his hands. He cries shattering your heart. Your cheeks were fully soaked with your own tears now so with nothing to loose you leaned in and nuzzled your face against him pulling him as close to you as possible, “I’m sorry Yoongi. I’m so sorry. I should’ve let you explain from the start. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry you feel like this. You’re not letting anyone down no matter what you do. Please don’t think like that.”

“I never should’ve given you a reason to think that I was cheating on you to begin with.”, he shook his head, “I hate that I let it get to that point. I’ve just been feeling like everything was closing in on me and I didn’t know what to do other than ignore it and hope it all gets better, but it just kept getting worse.”

“No it’s not your fault. I’ve just been so insecure and things have just been kind of weird between us and I really thought you weren’t attracted to me any more and then I saw her and how perfect she is and I panicked because I thought you had moved on to someone better.”, you said through your own tears.

Yoongi surprised you when he moved to get down on the floor to kneel in-front of you. He gently supported himself on your thighs. The warmth and pressure of his hands sent a tingling sensation through your body.

“Y/N, I…fuck I’m sorry I made you feel like that. I’ve just been so stressed and tired and then any time I did want to initiate something I felt like you weren’t into it and I didn’t want to push you or make you feel like I expected something. And you know I’m not the best at speaking my feelings so without being able to show you how I felt I didn’t know how to proceed. But you have no idea how much love I feel for you. And how attracted I am to you. Every little thing about you drives me crazy in the best way possible. I can’t get enough of you and I’m so incredibly sorry that I ever made you think any less.”

Your heart swelled as you grabbed onto the collar of his shirt pulling him up onto the couch with your lips searching for his. He laughed trying to catch himself from falling over before reciprocating the action. He straddled you enough to make sure he wasn’t putting too much weight on you as your fingers furiously undid the buttons of his shirt having it removed within seconds. It didn’t take much longer for your shirt to also end up in the same pile on the floor next to you with your bra following right after.

Even though you were burning up Yoongi’s touches left goosebumps on your skin as his fingers trailed down your side to the band of your shorts. He hooked two fingers inside. He teased you just enough to get a desperate whine out out you begging for more. You could feel him smirk against your lips because he got just the reaction he was looking for. He rocked his hips against you searching for any kind of friction and also making sure you could feel how badly he wanted you. Your brain turned into mush with thoughts of him after that.

You pulled away just long enough to catch your breath, “Bedroom?”

“Fuck yes, please.”, he said already picking you up in his arms and carrying you down the hallway while you giggled loudly in response.

Yoongi dropped down onto the bed next to you. “Are you hurt? Was it too much? I wasn’t too rough was I?”, he questioned trying to steady his breathing while pulling you flush against his body and looking you over at the same time. “No”, you shook your head, “You were perfect. I think I…I think we needed that.”

“Yeah.”, he laughed, “It’s been a while huh? Let’s not do that again.“

“Yeah I uh I guess I was afraid to let you see me like this, but it still hurt that lately you never seemed to really even try which only made me feel worse. And everyone’s always talking about how handsome you are and I just felt like I wasn’t good enough. And then I was worried that you found someone el-“

He silenced you with a kiss, “Y/N there will never be anyone else. Not in this lifetime or the next. You’re it for me.”

You smiled and relaxed into his warmth while he soothingly ran a hand over your belly as your baby happily kicked away excited to come into the world soon.

Between the relief you finally felt and his steady heartbeat lulling you it was only minutes before you had nearly fallen asleep in his arms. But then you startled awake remembering a special treat that was waiting for you in the freezer. You and the baby definitely wanted a late night snack and you were thankful it was there.

“Where are you going in such a hurry?”, Yoongi chuckled watching you closely.

“To get cleaned up.”, you grunted as you scooted off of the bed, “Jimin dropped off some ice cream yesterday and I was saving it.”

“Really?”, he asked following you into the shower, “I could go for some ice cream right about now. What flavor?”

You relaxed letting the warm water run over your sore body as you looked up at him with a cheeky smile, “Cherry.”

[twinewool]

Christmas is coming, which means it's time to rewatch Millie McKenzie be the most perfect goblin in RIPTIDE's Combat Panto Match of 2019. [sadly for those on mobile you may need to click here or manually skip to 21:45 ?? :( tumblr why?]

[moonstruckme]

hello!

Could you maybe do poly!marauders x reader and the boys discovering she has a major praise kink!

It doesn’t have to be smutty or it can be whatever you think!!

(ps: you are such an amazing author and the way you write the marauders together and their personalities is impeccable 💋)

This was fun and funny, thanks for requesting!

cw: praise kink, suggestive ending (no smut)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus makes a soft hissing sound. “Is that how you always chop onions?” 

You look at him sideways. “With a knife? Yes.” 

“Don’t be cheeky,” he says, smiling. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” 

You look down at your cutting board, still chopping but now bemused. “I don’t plan on it.” 

James, who’s appeared over your shoulder, makes a similar sound, hissing through his teeth. “No, sweetheart.” He places his hand over yours on the handle of the knife, silently prompting you to stop. “Rem’s right, you’re going to lose the tips of your fingers.” 

You feel a tad defensive of your chopping skills. “I’ve managed to keep them all ‘til now. What am I doing wrong?” 

“Here, let me.” James eases the knife from your grip, squishing in alongside you in front of the cutting board and taking your onion. “See, you want to curl your fingers in a tiny bit so the knife skims off them. Like a claw.” 

You lean over, peering at his hand. “It looks hard to keep a grip like that.” 

“It takes a bit of practice,” he allows. James slices through the onion a few times with smooth, easy motions, then passes the knife back to you. “Give it a try.” 

You try to hold the onion the way he had, looking at James for approval. He taps your pinkie finger, getting you to curl that one a bit more, before smiling at you. 

“There you go. That’s good, now try cutting down your knuckles.” 

“This feels scarier than my way,” you admit, though you do as he says, skimming the knife down your knuckles and slicing through the onion slowly. 

“No, you’ve got it,” James praises. “That’s really good, angel. You’re a natural.” 

Your cheeks are starting to warm from all the compliments. “Thanks,” you say in a small voice. 

“Don’t go getting shy,” says Sirius, coming in to steal a dry pasta noodle from Remus. He bites down on it with a crack that makes James grimace. “You were so vocal about how you knew the proper way a minute ago.” 

“I still like my way better,” you say, recovering some. 

“Right, well do it this way for our peace of mind, would you?” James’ hand warms the small of your back as he watches you work. “You have very pretty fingers, and I don’t think I’m being too presumptuous in saying that we all like them too much to risk it. Plus, you’ve picked it up so quickly.” 

The heat from your face spreads lower. It’s all you can do to squeak out a meek “okay.” You’re grateful when James leaves to return to his own task. 

A minute later, Remus comes over to check that you’re doing what you’re supposed to. He hums approvingly. “Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair. All the air in your lungs dries up. “Thank you, darling. That looks great.” 

“She learned from the best,” James quips. 

Remus hums and kisses his hair too before turning back to his work. It’s only a handful of seconds before they realize you’ve not replied. 

“Dove?” Remus looks at you. 

“Hm?” you hum tightly. 

“You alright?”

“Mhm.” 

James and Sirius have turned to look now, too. You keep your face downturned to the cutting board, but you can feel the weight of three curious stares on the back of your head. Sirius prowls over to you like a cat, taking you by the shoulders and turning you slowly. 

“Humor me for a moment?” he asks, smirking. “I want to test a theory.” 

You’re wound too tightly by this point to respond, his smug teasing pushing you to the edges of sanity. You barely have the wherewithal to set your knife down carefully behind you. 

Your boyfriend’s cold hands find your warm face, shit-eating grin only spreading as he takes his time feeling about your cheeks with his knuckles and fingers. Sirius isn’t always the most perceptive of your boyfriends, but unfortunately, humiliatingly, he’s the first to unravel this particular mystery. 

He asks smoothly, “Do you like it when we tell you how good you are, pretty girl?” 

You’re not sure if he can actually feel the flare of heat to your face at the words, but something about your expression must confirm it. Sirius laughs gleefully. 

“Awe, angel.” James comes over to wrap his arms around you from the side, also laughing. “I didn’t know we were winding you up when we talked like that. I was just trying to compliment what a quick learner you are.” 

“She is a quick learner,” Sirius says in a salacious tone. “You always follow instructions well, don’t you, gorgeous?” 

“Stop,” you plead, covering your face with your hands and forcing Sirius to move his. All three of your boyfriends snicker, James pressing a conciliatory kiss to your burning ear. “It’s not like it happens all the time, you’re just being so much right now. You can’t just call someone—call them—” 

“A good girl?” Remus asks you, and you don’t think he’s putting on a tone like Sirius is, you really don’t, but his regular voice is already so nearly pornographic that the heat in your core spreads anyway. 

“Right,” you say weakly. 

Remus chuckles. “I didn’t mean anything by it, sweetheart. Sorry if I put you in an…uncomfortable position.” 

“No, don’t be sorry.” Sirius is giddy, smugness dialed up to eleven. “This is a revelation. Just think what we could do with this. You’ve given us all a gift, babe.” 

“Oh, our poor girl,” James laughs when you try to hide your face in his shoulder. “Sirius is right, this is good! It’s always good for us to know what you like, right?” 

You’re too flustered to reply, but Remus agrees for you, humming contemplatively. 

“You know,” he says, “if I leave this to simmer for a while, we could make it up to you now, dove. I’d feel awful if I wound you up without giving you any payoff.” 

His tone implies he’s at least partly joking, but Sirius doesn’t take it that way. He has you all in the bedroom in thirty seconds flat, your chopping left to wait for your return. 

[samuelsdean]

Take A Bite

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: the hunt loomed, a constant shadow. but for now, in the warmth of the diner, you had this – a shared meal, a stolen bite, a silent promise spoken in the language only the two of you understood. maybe that was enough, for now.

genre: fluff

word count: 0.6k

author's notes: my first ever dean winchester fic! and of course, it's fluff. this one's extra fluffy and tooth-rotting because he deserves all the love and pie in the world. have fun reading this one!

GREASY SPOON DINERS WERE PRACTICALLY A SECOND HOME TO YOU AND DEAN. After weeks on the road, chasing whatever monster plagued this random unsuspecting town, a decent burger and stale black coffee felt like a five-star feast. You slid into the red vinyl booth across from Dean, the air thick with the aroma of frying onions and something vaguely resembling a pie. Dean's favorite

"Double cheeseburger, fries extra crispy, milkshake," Dean said to the waitress, a practiced routine etched into the lines on his face. "And your apple pie, make that two slices."

You chuckled at Dean's predictability. One thing about the hunter is that he'll never miss out on ordering pie if it is ever on the menu. You mirrored his order, minus the pie and milkshake, opting for a Coke instead, as a comfortable silence settled between you.

"You know, Dean, it'll never hurt you to cut back on the sugar and fat," you poked at the man's elbow. "You're what? 30 years old? You could die from all the cholesterol you ingest."

Dean shoved another greasy fry into his mouth, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Woman," he mumbled around the food, "first of all, I'm twenty-five, almost twenty-six now. Second, cholesterol never killed any Winchester. Besides, haven't you seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer? The girl practically lives on coffee and Pop-Tarts, and she still kicks major demon butt. The point is, you gotta live a little. Besides, pie's calling my name." He jerked his head and smirked towards the display case where a monstrous slice of apple pie sat, practically begging to be devoured.

It wasn't always like this, these quiet moments punctuated by the clinking of silverware. There were times, hunts gone sideways, when the air crackled with tension, unspoken words hanging heavy. But there was also a language you'd developed, a shorthand built on shared experiences and unspoken affection.

The waitress slid your plates across the chipped Formica counter. As you reached for your burger, Dean's hand shot out, snagging a fry. He popped it into his mouth with a wink.

"Always gotta have the first bite," he said around a mouthful of crispy oily goodness—as how Dean would describe the meal.

You rolled your eyes, a familiar warmth blooming in your chest. It was a small thing, this ritual of offering the first or last bite. It started years ago, on a particularly brutal hunt that left you both famished and frayed. Dean had insisted you take the last sliver of pie, a silent promise that he'd take care of you, even in the smallest ways.

You speared a fry and held it out to him. "Only because you saved me from the mystery meat surprise last week."

He chuckled, taking the fry and returning the favor by breaking off a piece of his pie before taking a bite. The practice continued throughout the meal, a silent banter intertwined with the rhythm of chewing and swallowing. It's like second nature between you two.

"So," Dean said, finally wiping his grease-stained fingers on a napkin, "what kind of son of a bitch are we whacking this time?"

You launched into the details the local college professor had shared, a tremor of interest lacing your voice. As you spoke, Dean listened intently, smiling now and then with how nerdy you sounded. He liked it when you go off on your tangents about whatever monster it was you were about to hunt. While doing so, Dean occasionally reached across the table to steal a fry or offer a piece of his pie. It wasn't a grand gesture, this sharing of food, but in the quiet hum of the diner, it felt like everything.

The hunt loomed, a constant shadow. But for now, in the warmth of the diner, you had this – a shared meal, a stolen bite, a silent promise spoken in the language only the two of you understood. Maybe that was enough, for now.

[sunnie-angel]

A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

Part 5: Homecoming

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay's finally home and she's got some promises to keep tags: somnophilia, oral sex, fingering, biting, strapping, resolved sexual tension rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.5k a/n: so this is the last of my pre-written chapters. i'm putting this series on temporary hiatus, but there is an outline for the second half i just have to actually sit down and finish writing it.

part 4 | series masterlist

The sound of the key in the front door has you tripping in your haste to get off the couch. You come careening around the corner just in time to watch Jay drop her duffle bag on the welcome mat with a thud before you’re on her. She catches you one handed, arm a crushing bar around your lower back. Jay honest to god dips you, spins you around until you’re on your toes and dips you into a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. Her hair is a wild mess where it drapes around your face. Breathless she spins you upright, pulls back and rests her forehead against yours.

“Miss me?” she teases and it’s all you can do not to burst into tears now that she’s finally home. “Hey, hey, none of that now,” she murmurs pulling you close. “Thought my baby girl’d be happy I’m back.”

“I am! I am, just missed you s’all,” you reassure her, hands tangling in the fabric of her t-shirt. Tentatively you rise back up on your tiptoes to kiss her when the most awful growling noise erupts from her tummy. You giggle until your sides hurt, her face going from embarrassed to sheepish in the span of seconds.

“Was in a rush to get home,” she says, colour dusting her cheeks.

“Go shower Miss Saved the World,” you tell her, then press a quick kiss to her lips. “Got some leftover rice from dinner, pretty sure I can whip you up something quick.”

“Sorry,” Jay says, dropping a grateful kiss to your forehead before dragging her bag with her to the washing up area.

It’s easy to simmer the eggs and chicken together, the sounds of the pipes running hot water coming from the bathroom. With a start you realize you’re humming, mirin and soy sauce getting added to the beat of the song. Warmth bubbles up in your throat as you hear the water turn off, the sounds of Jay puttering around finally filling the apartment again. A waft of steam escapes from the bathroom door just as you turn off the heat on your pan. The barstool’s legs scrape the linoleum as it gets pulled back in tandem with you carefully pouring out the mixture on top of the rice. Proud of your efforts, you place the bowl on the counter in front of her with a flourish. She catches your hand and presses a soft kiss to your warm palm, her gaze a mixture of grateful and tender.

“Wait! Wait!” you interrupt her before she can dig in. You turn around and start rooting through the freezer. “Knew I forgot something– aha!” Triumphant you pull out a baggie of frozen chopped green onion and sprinkle it across her bowl. “Okay now you can eat.”

With a fond huff she tucks in, eyes dropping closed at the first bite. A final weight lifts off of your chest as she suddenly goes ravenous, attacking her makeshift dinner with the feral attitude of someone that hasn’t eaten well in a while. Jay lets you hold her hand as she eats, bears your careful inspection of her knuckles with their fading bruises without a word but tightens her hold on your fingers whenever you try to let go. Sighing heavily, she leans back full and sated.

“You treat me too well,” she says, stomach warm and full.

“Nah, just the way you deserve,” you reply honestly. Still keeping hold of her hand, you hug her from behind, burying your face in her damp hair. It didn’t smell right when you stole some of her shampoo while she was gone, something essentially Jay missing from it. It smells like her now and you breath it in.

“Said a lot of things about how I was gonna treat you,” she murmurs, lax in your arms and eyes still closed.

“Later,” you tell her. “Right now you’re more likely to fall asleep face first in my pussy and I don’t need that blow to my ego.” You card your fingers through her hair and feel her shake with laughter.

“Probably,” she admits.

“Go sleep it off and just let me enjoy having you home for a bit. Go!” you urge her and finally she listens. Plants a kiss to your cheek before stumbling off to the darkened bedroom. It doesn’t take long to clean up, mostly putting things to soak in the sink for you to deal with in the morning. By the time you make it to the bedroom, Jay’s already fast asleep. With a smile, your curl up behind, arm looping around her waist to keep her close. You’re not letting her out of your sight anytime soon.

The dream is warm. A kaleidoscope of memory folding together. Jay holding you close, Jay kissing down your chest, Jay looking up at you from between your thighs like some dangerous creature just breaking the surface of the water. She kisses your inner thighs like she did on that rainy day two months ago. Pets and blows on your mound the same way she did last spring. Parts your folds with eager fingers to nibble at your clit like she did right before the first time she fucked you. You breath out a heavy sigh, plaintive as she starts to build up a rhythm. Dreams of Jay are always welcome – frequent now that she’s not here to help you relive those memories – even if you always wake with a cry and the feeling of clenching down around nothing.

This time, the dream feels even more real than usual. You can practically feel the heat of her breath on your cunt, the blunt shape of her nails as the drag along your skin. You grind your hips down, dig your heels into the mattress and toss your head side to side as you chase your pleasure, desperate to come before the dream ends and you’re left with your empty bed.

Something solid prods at your hole and you wake with a gasp, sleepy confusion making you slow and stupid as Jay curls a finger inside of you. She suckles on your clit and your back arches as the sensation lights you up.

“J-jay?” you call out, hands blindly searching for the back of her head between your legs. “You’re really home?” It comes out more vulnerable than you’d expected, voice hitching into a high pitched whine as she curls a second finger into you.

“Never leaving home again if my baby girl can’t tell the difference between me’n a dream,” she growls into your thigh before biting down, teeth sharp as she litters the skin with blooming marks. Thumb steady on your clit she keeps finger fucking you, slick dripping down her wrist. She finds the gummy part of your cunt she’s been hunting for, hooks her fingers in and pulls just as she latches onto your clit again. You come on her face with a squeal, head falling back as the electricity rips through you. She pats your thigh patronizingly.

“There she is, there’s my good girl.” She kisses her way up your trembling body, the burning warmth of her skin telling you she lost her pyjama shirt a long time ago. “Came for me so quickly, your cunt knows exactly who she belongs to, doesn’t she,” she coos at you, a hand reaching out to tweak at your breast. Reflexively your body arches up into her and she grins. “But I made a promise, didn’t I? Said I was gonna make you scream.” Jay rolls her hips against you and you can feel the hard, cool tip of her strap notch at your entrance. “Scream for me, okay baby girl?”

The strap slides home in one long thrust that has your body pulled tight, head dropped back and slack jawed as she pries open your still sensitive cunt. Jay mouths at your throat, sucks a necklace of pretty marks as she slowly draws back and then slams back in. You keen as the textured length of the cock scrapes your insides, fat girth bigger than anything you’d let yourself take in her absence. All the tiredness has drained out of you, replace by something simmering in your blood. You can hear the wet sloppy sounds your cunt makes as she thrusts into you again, her hips hitting yours. She hooks a hand under your knee and readjusts the position of your hips before drilling back down into you.

You gurgle as she hits something you think might be your cervix, deeper than she’s ever been before. She’s carving a place for herself inside of your cunt, walls stretched thin around her. Your whole body jolts up the bed with every thrust and it’s all you can do hang on.

“Jay, Jay need it. Need more, please,” you beg her, her strap fucking you just right.

You claw at her back when her calloused fingers find your clit again, moaning loud and wanton as she picks up the pace. Pleasure bloating in your gut as sparks start to collect under her fingers, your cunt clenching. She leans down to kiss you and you can taste yourself raw on her tongue, still dripping with the leftovers of your first orgasm. Jay pinches your clit and you come with a scream, whole body spasming under her as she fucks you through it. Your vision goes blurry and your thighs twitch around her hips but she keeps going.

“Don’t I always keep my promises?” she purrs, voice thick. “Keep you well fucked in my bed, my sweet girl?” Jay slows the roll of her hips to slow, filthy grinds. Threads both hands through yours and pins you to the bed with her full body, the vulnerability of the position making you gasp high in your throat. Knuzzles into your cheek with the tip of her nose. “Knew you’d wait for me.”

“Didn’t like you gone,” you whimper. “Missed you too much.”

“Missed you too,” she says, rests her forehead against yours. Lingers just out of reach to kiss you, shares your air, your greedy gasps. “Missed my little love.” Finally she givens and kisses you. “Couldn’t sleep without you.” She grinds her strap into you. “Couldn’t think without wonderin’ about you, ‘bout that picture.” Jay kisses the corner of your mouth as you pant at her hips undulating. “Wanted you chatterin’ in my ear ‘stead of the others. Fillin’ up the room with laugher.” You squeeze her hands, her damp hair tickling the sides of your face.

“Don’t leave again,” you beg her.

“Love you too much to let you outta my sight,” she reassures you.

“You– you love me?” you repeat back in wonder, heat rising in your cheeks. She stops moving and you mewl at the loss.

“I– what? I’m literally balls deep in you at 4 in the morning and you want to know if I love you?” She asks. You try to hide your face in the pillows but she won’t have any of it.

“You’ve never said it before,” you tell her shyly.

“Yes, baby girl, I love you. I’ve loved you since the minute I walked into that bar and saw you sittin’ there all doe eyed. Happy?” she says exasperatedly, punctating her last word with a filthy grind that has your clit throbbing. You grin and bury your face in her shoulder. Her words put to rest an annoying little part of your mind that hadn’t been able to put the what if aside since the moment she left.

“Love you Jay,” you mumble into her skin.

“What’s that?” She says, pretending not to hear you. “Gonna need you to speak up a bit.”

“Love you love youloveyouloveyou,” you slur as she fucks you until you’re keening, words warm and true. Her brows scrunch up the way they do when she’s close, mouth dropping open as she works the both of you closer to the edge. Your third orgasm rolls over you, takes you by surprise and washes you clean as you tremble and shake under the weight of Jay’s solid body. She kisses you, soft nips that have you chasing after the comfort of her mouth.

“Such a good girl for me, my little love,” Jay coos into your hair.

The alarm doesn’t wake you up in the morning. It’s the kettle, the one Jay insists makes the best tea because it boils the water right on the stovetop, the one she always forgets is loud enough to reach the bedroom if the door isn’t shut fully, that wakes you with it’s rattling whistle. There’s a book face down on the pillow besides you, the cracked spine softly touched by sunlight. With a sigh you roll back over and close your eyes, still hopeful the last of your tiredness is still enough to pull you back under for a few more minutes before your alarm goes off and you have to drag yourself out of bed and off to work. Wait.

With a shriek you try and rush out of bed, uncoordinated, sore limbs only tangling you up in the blankets and almost causing you to faceplant onto the carpet. Your elbow stings with the slight friction of the rugburn buts its going to be nothing compared to showing up to work 4 hours late if the wall clock is right. Whatever dignified noise you made must have been louder than the teakettle because suddenly Jay’s there to help you up.

“Hey, hey what’s all this then? Miss me that much?” she jokes and you scowl. You can’t afford to get your asshole of a manager any more on your case than he already is.

“I was supposed to be at work 4 hours ago,” you seethe, still not quite angry enough to pull back from her touch after so long. “Did you turn off my alarm?!”

“Yup,” she says unapologetically. Before you can storm off to the bathroom, she wraps you up in her arms even as you hiss and scowl. “Aaaand I also called in and said you were taking the day off because your fiance was back from deployment.”

“I— bu- what?” you sputter. Jay just presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Real piece of work that manager, said if it was for one of our brave boys then you could take tomorrow off too,” she hums.

“You told my dick of a boss with his Top Gun hard on that my fiance – who does not exist – is back from a deployment – that didn’t happen – and he just gave me two days off without any notice,” you spell out slowly, still trying to figure out at what point you had slipped into a different universe.

“Well there might have been a little—” she pitches up into a tearful voice “—we didn’t know if Richard was going to make it, but he’s alive and asking for her.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” you tell her, rolling your eyes affectionately at her.

“Yeah, ridiculously in love with you,” she says semi-seriously. She plants a kiss to the top of your head. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” you tell her and savour the warmth of finally having her home.

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Entry 17: A Man Possessed

GIF credit: @maikswen

Bearblr Promptober Day 17: Dumbification (Sub: Clueless)

Summary: Carmy has girlfriend (who he calls Darling) brainworms again, and he's even more of a disaster this time. (Or: the time Carmy had to leave work to go rail his girl)

Warnings: Smut, swearing, p in v sex, unprotected sex (she has an IUD but Carmy's not writing that in his journal), Dom/Sub dynamic, calling Carmy "sir", hair pulling, obsessed thoughts, mild spiraling, fem reader/rando lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list.

If you want to keep following this set of works, you can follow the #cb journal tag.

Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

This is is a two-parter. The first part is here.

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

17 Oct 2024

I handled the second incident of Darling invading my brain much worse than the first.

I couldn’t fucking focus for five fucking minutes on anything. I was pissed off at life two minutes after opening, worse so when the place looked a fucking mess from the night before. Assholes couldn’t even clean up after themselves. I don’t even know how many times I lost track of what I was doing or why because my mind went to Darling instead of staying at The Bear. Here she was, burying her face in my t-shirt again, letting out that delicious sigh, the curve of her hip still visible under the blankets, and I wanted so badly to just grab her. To squeeze her flesh in my hands, dig my fingers into the round of her ass, to drown in her soft skin and her wet kisses to my throat. I wanted to bite her. I didn’t even know what to do with that—I just wanted to sink my teeth into the inside of her thigh before soothing her by putting my mouth to use elsewhere. Why? For what purpose? How does that make sense?

Syd must’ve noticed that I was off because she started helping with cleaning—didn’t even try to talk to me. I hate that, by the way; hate when I’m so far away that people don’t even find words worth giving me. I might not talk much, but if people don’t talk to me, I start feeling like a bug on the window; tiny, inconvenient, gross, unwanted, easily forgotten until I make an irritating sound.

I had to step out in the middle of cleaning—I hadn’t even gotten to prep yet, that’s how bad it was—and I found myself dragging my hand over the side of my neck and my throat. My heart throbbed with such violence that I wanted it to escape so I’d stop being harassed by it. My hands trembled, breaths got erratic. I heard her voice again, telling me to breathe, to find sounds around me, but it came through as static. The apple leaf adagio, the skittering of dried maple leaves, her body fits so perfectly in my hands, strawberry lip balm, what’s not to love? Fuck, that feels good, Carmy. More of that, pretty boy.

Pretty boy.

Please call me pretty boy again, I’m begging you.

I struggled to make it through the rest of prep. I’m fairly sure Sydney figured out I was that same sort of fucked up again because she didn’t wait for me to fuck up a count or fail to give directions before taking over the reigns of the kitchen. I turned into a line cook, just mindlessly doing what was asked of me because it’s what I knew I could do without making a worse mess, and she had the rest under control.

Syd always had it under control; I was the one out of control.

Once again, near dinner service, just when I thought I’d be fine, I cracked under the pressure. I had stepped out to get a break from the relentless heat of the kitchen, try to get some air that wasn’t saturated with the aromas of food (it sounds nice, but trust me, when you’re hour 10 into inhaling sautéed onions, confit garlic, vinegar, cumin, black pepper, olive oil, it gets so deep into your lungs that you feel like you might cough up a prime rib steak). The snap of cold air on my face shattered the dam keeping any assertion of reality in check, and I was inundated with this… how do I even describe it? It wasn’t quite rage, but it wasn’t far from it. Like I needed Darling. I needed her so badly that if I didn’t have her, I was going to break something.

Possessed? Was I a man possessed?

I had this crawling sensation, yeah? Not quite like ants on my skin; the feeling was bigger, coarser. It started in my back, spread to my shoulders, blazed down my arms, into my hands. I clenched and relaxed my fists, trying to ward it off, but when that did nothing—and it did precisely nothing—I rubbed hard over my arms, dug my short fingernails into my skin in some faint approximation of what Darling’s nails felt like. When I thought about doing it again, even harder, hard enough to draw blood if I had to, I knew I was fucked.

I bailed on the kitchen staff again, but something tells me they would’ve hated me being there anyway.

“Sweetheart? You’re home early, what’s going on?”

She’s on the couch fiddling with yarn—I think it’s crochet? Or is it knitting? I don’t know the difference—and has the 2005 Pride and Prejudice on in the background at a low volume. I don’t even know if she can hear it with how quiet it is. I throw off my jacket, and that’s enough for her to figure out something is wrong. She puts the yarn thing on the arm of the couch and unfolds her legs to get up, but I can’t, okay, I cannot.

“No, you stay there.” I’m sorry, did I just tell her what to do? Who the fuck am I?

She froze and leveled a look at me that I can only describe as a deer in headlights. Entirely confused. Clueless. Maybe even scared.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” It’s tiny. High in her throat.

She follows my face with those big eyes as I approach. It’s weird that it didn’t bother me then. It bothers me now, thinking about it, that she was probably confused as all hell and I should’ve stopped to talk to her, but clearly, I was on one. Or something. That crawling sensation was worse, and overwhelmed by the need, the sheer fucking need to taste her. Taste that strawberry lip balm, lap at her tongue, to occupy my mouth with soft, warm wetness. Fuck me, she was wearing my t-shirt, too.

She squeaked in surprise when I crashed our lips together. Immediately shot her hand to my forearm when one of mine blanketed over her throat. The other seized a fistful of her hair, and she grabbed at my wrist. Probably startled. It bothers me that I didn’t care at the time.

“Open,” I growled.

She obeyed immediately, relented control to let me explore her mouth, and wove her hands into my hair. Fucking hell, I needed that. I was starved of her, plagued with memories of her taste for 10 entire fucking hours—fuck I needed her, all of her, I needed her hands under my skin, goddammit. I pushed her down onto the couch, wrenched her knees apart, and settled between them. She tugged my hair in surprise and then coiled her legs around me.

“Pull harder.”

“Harder? Carmy—”

I used my grip on her hair to tip her head back and aim a glare at her. “I said pull. Fucking. Harder.”

She whimpered and did what I asked. My eyes drifted shut against my will at the tension on my hair—not painful, a sort of raw pleasurable that only pain could seem to bring in that moment. It was too fucking warm. It was boiling again. Why is it always so fucking warm? It was almost as if she could hear my thoughts because she yanked my shirt up and off. I went right back to attacking her with kisses. She hooked a leg high up on my waist and tightened it—have I mentioned how fucking strong she is? College soccer player. She’s really fucking strong.—and it was enough to trigger the ache in my back and force me to pause for a moment with my lips at her neck.

“Carmy,” she gasped, “tell me where your head is, sweetheart.”

Her sounding breathless shouldn’t’ve made me feel powerful.

I yanked off her shirt. May have torn a hook off her bra when I wrested it off her. Whatever, I’d buy her a new one.

“Carmy, I need you to talk—” I cut her off with more fervent kisses. She patted my chest, squeezed her legs again. “Hey, pretty boy.”

That got me to freeze and meet her gaze. She rubbed small circles over my chest.

“Hi… hi, sweetheart.”

“Couldn’t—” Fuck me, I could barely think. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Her confusion was replaced with a wide-eyed expression.

I ducked down to continue that hickey on her neck. I needed to leave some kind of mark on her. What the hell was going on with me? She trailed a hand down my abdomen and rested it on the bulge in my pants. Took her about two heartbeats to start fumbling with my fly. This wave of cool relief washed over me—don’t know what or why it was about—but it was brief, just a momentary breather in the flames of arousal consuming me. She got me free of my pants and underwear, kissed my temple.

“That better, hm?” Was she really trying to soothe me right now?

Did she not see the animal trying not to devour her?

It occurs to me now that I might’ve genuinely scarred her when I stared her down in response. She froze, searched my face, darted her gaze between my mouth and my eyes repeatedly. Had shaky, jerky movements when trying to shove off her sweatpants. It was odd that she wasn’t speaking. She tends to talk. Her voice is pretty soothing, honestly. At first, something of a regular check in and reassurance for me to know that I wasn’t fucking up, but now a familiar, comfortable, soothing riff in the soundtrack of our lives together. Of course, at the time, I didn’t register any of this because I just needed to be inside her already.

She tensed up when I hiked her leg up my side. Babbled frantically into my mouth, “C-Carmy? Carmy, be gentle. Please be gentle—oh fuck!”

How gentle do you think a wild animal can be, baby girl?

She was unimaginably tight but also impossibly wet. My head spun and it took every last frayed fiber of wherewithal to not immediately sink into her cunt as deep as I could. Forget thinking straight, forget thinking about anything other than the tight, wet heat enveloping my dick. I was pussy drunk already, and I just barely got started.

She dug her nails into my back, had one hand on my abdomen digging into my muscle. “Baby! Baby, please, slow down… fuck, that’s so good, but please—”

“You can take it,” I snarled into her ear.

She took a second, but then withdrew the hand pushing on me and busied it with my hair instead. Mumbled a small, “Y-yes, sir.”

Sir?

She moaned something of a pitiful sound when I got to work. Whatever that version of me was, it wasn’t gentle, but she didn’t seem to care. She hiked her leg up higher when I hit her deep, begged for more, clung to me tighter when I sunk my teeth into her shoulder and did just that, mumbled praises in my ear as I relentlessly fucked her through her orgasm. Good boy; that’s it, you’re making me feel so good; fuck, baby, I’m so full; I can take more, keep going. It crossed the rat’s nest of busted wires in my brain further. All I can remember is this raw, unfiltered, white-hot pleasure burning a chasm into my core, this tension winding so tight I couldn’t get enough air in. Braided steel cable creaking under a construction load? How do I describe this? Tightening rubber band? No.

Sinew tensioning as a dull knife dug into it. That’s an apt descriptor. Like with the ice cubes in the kitchen that first time. Only all-consuming, raw, visceral, centered on her—her scent, her heat, her strained breaths, her wetness, her taste. 

I hid my face in the crook of her neck when I was right on the edge.

Her lips brushed my ear. Her voice was strained but still the same kind of soothing to my soul. “Come on, sweetheart. Let go… Cum, pretty boy…”

I clutched her like a drowning man when my orgasm finally hit me. It knocked the air out of my lungs, killed a scream in my throat, set off a thrumming sound in my ears, first bathed me in flames and then abruptly flooded ice water through my veins. My abdomen screamed from how violently it spasmed, the muscles in my back seized up. Everything stopped. Everything—never in my life had my entire existence been so blank, so empty, so quiet, so at peace. I might even have blacked out for a bit (or my memory is just as shit as it’s always been) because the next thing I remember is slow, gentle caresses over my face, neck, chest, shoulder, then back up to my face to repeat the circuit. Her lips pressed to my hairline at intervals. My eyelashes brushed her neck while I tried to blink the cobwebs away.

“You with me, sweetheart?”

Nope. Not even close. I don’t even know what planet I’m on right now.

She smoothed my sweaty hair back off my face. Planted another kiss to my temple. “That’s okay. You’re safe. Take your time.”

This is going too well, right? She’s too perfect. God’s a sadist; that other shoe is going to return from orbit, and because I am willing to give my whole being to this woman, it will kill me. This love will kill me.

[stubz]

"Remember to check with a teacher or one of the gardeners before eating what you pick from the gardens." calls out teacher Max.

The youngling centre was on a field trip visiting the ships indoor public garden that grows both flowers and vegetables from a variety of different planets. Younglings took joy in sharing and showing their friends vegetables and plants from their own respective planet. Even the teachers, Max and Kim, were happy to tell them about earth's plants.

"Wow, what's that Emira?"

"It's a glass flower!" she chirps holding up a beautiful flower with the petals and stem translucent. "They're my favorite flower!"

"So pretty! Can you...eat it!" the human grins.

"No!" the avian giggles. "You can't eat it! But my Maemae says you can use the roots for tea that helps tummy aches."

"I'll have to remember that." he nods, wearing an utmost serious and thoughtful face. The nearby gardeners chuckle.

"You should!"

"I shall-!"

"TEACHER MAAAX!!"

All heads whip to the south of the garden. At the very end of it is Ezshi screaming and waving their little tail and arms frantically. Beside them is Pollix, Zyz, and Tarlak huddling around a Kim kneeling on the ground grabbing her throat.

"Mr Max you stay h-" the gardeners watched as the human sprinted as fast he could to the other side of the gardens. Seconds later the younglings followed suit with Emira leading them, flapping her little wings as fast as she can.

"KIM! KIM WHAT'S WRONG?!" he skids to a stop beside her grabbing her shoulders to examine her.

The human shakes her head, face red, opens her mouth to speak only to go into a coughing fit. Her right hand at her throat, her left pounding her chest.

"What happened?? Did you eat something?? Kids what did she eat?!" later he'll apologize for shouting but right now he can't help it. Right now he's going through every lesson he's had about what to do when one eats something harmful/unknown to their species.

"I-I don't know! Tarlak gave it to her!" Zyz cries, tears streaming down their little snout.

"Tarlak, buddy, what did you give her??" the little Simia's lips quiver as he stares at the still hacking Kim.

"Tarlak, focus. What did you give her? What planet plot was it from?" Max grabs his shoulders, making him look solely at him and not Kim.

"...earth...it-it was from earth. This." he hands over a half eaten white plant bulb.

"...Kim's fine kids." he sighs flopping over onto the dirt. The adrenaline immediately leaving his body.

"What! What is it?!" they all cry.

"It's garlic."

For a moment there is silence save for some sighs of relief from the human children. And then.

"GET THE RED BAG!"

"CALL THE GARDENERS!"

"SHE'S GONNA DIEEE!"

All the younglings scream and wail. Most like Emira, however, simply cling to the human silently crying.

"...what?! Kids! She's not dying."

" 'm not...dying." Kim rasps, finally done coughing.

"Garlic is poison! It's how my Maemae's uncle died!" Emira wails.

"I heard one garlic clove can kill a hundred rextalians!" Ezshi frets.

"What are you talking abo...oooh. Thiosulfate."

"Thio-whatnow?" Kim coughs, spitting out a piece of garlic she frees from her cheek.

"Reason why most animals can't eat garlic and onions. Including most other non-earth species."

"...Oooh! Okay learning time! Listen up kids. Humans can eat garlic! Got it? Humans can eat garlic and other foods like garlic, our body breaks it down and stuff."

"But you choked and your face turned red!"

"Because the taste is very strong. It's like lemons. Basically I took a giant bite out of a lemon."

"...Ooooh!" cries out the younglings now understanding that their teacher is not dying.

"Wait why did you take a giant bite out of garlic?" laughs Max.

"I didn't know if was garlic or an onion and Tarlak's dad uses onions for to make a bug repellent...don't judge me I've never seen garlic in that shape before!"

"Why didn't you ask a gardener?"

"They're all the way on the other side of the field! Just-shush!"

"I'm never letting you live this down. Now help me stop the human kids from doing some kind of garlic challenge. I see Anthony and Piper eyeing them."

[milotraflgkl]

reader who likes to cook

STRAW-HATS X GN!READER

note: THIS IS A REUPLOAD!!! content: reader can cook, fluff, can be platonic or romantic, fluff. WC: 1050

Luffy

he loves to eat, so when he finds out that you can cook? you are the first person he goes to for every meal

he doesn’t care what you cook him, as long as he gets a bunch of it and fast. he’s starving!! (he ate like two minutes ago)

if you want to try something knew he’s willing to eat it, he’ll even tell you how good it is but you have to take it with a grain of salt cause he finds practically everything you make him delicious

he also likes to make ideas for things he wants, if he wants something exotic he’ll definitely bring it up in a random conversation to you

he likes both you and sanjis cooking, but he definitely likes your more. maybe it’s the fact that your cooking isn’t restaurant taught and feels more, home like

if you are out shopping on an island, to his dismay yet his obvious interest he’ll grab random fruit and ask what kind of meals you can make out of it

Zoro

he doesn’t really care, he’s never cared for anything except good combat and shit like that but that doesn’t mean he won’t find it impressive

and when i say he doesn’t care i mean, he just doesn’t bother to ask. you’ll tell him or cook him something and he’ll say thanks or cool then move on

but secretly after you tell him you cooked him something he tries to enjoy it a little more than he does Sanjis, i mean you cooked it for HIM he feels pretty flattered

he’ll also sometimes come into the kitchen to watch you, mostly to see how you use a knife and if you are good with it. like i said, he’s mostly interested in combat.

he’ll start to buy you knives, he hopes you’ll use them for defense but most the time he finds them hidden somewhere safely or he’ll see you using them to cut up the onions that will be on tonight’s plate

Nami

she thinks it’s cute, especially when you make her something specifically for her. she’ll eat it slowly and make sure to enjoy every little detail that you put into the dish

if you make her anything orange related you’ll hear constant praises and she’ll tell you how good the dish was then ask for more

she definitely enjoys sitting in the kitchen while you cook, doodling in her pages of maps but also making sure to keep a look out for good islands that have ingredients you might like

she doesn’t mind Sanji’s cooking but whenever dinner is served she always asks, when she hears it’s from you she takes her time more than she does with Sanjis.

when she’s out shopping for herself and she sees something like a little utensil set she’ll snag it then buy it for you, as a random gift because she thought you’d like it

she definitely comes to you when she’s craving things on her period, if she wants a specific snack she’ll go to you and she’ll watch you intently as you prepare it for her

Usopp

he finds it cool! he’ll tell you stories about himself cooking and how amazing of a cook he is but when you offer to cook with him he panics

he will sit and watch you cook, he will ask random question but most the time he’ll bite his nails to hold back from asking to many. he doesn’t wanna bother you while you cook

he won’t say it to either you or sanjis face but he definitely likes your cooking more, he’ll tell anybody he meets about sanjis cooking but then immediately bring up how yours is just 10x better

he’ll ask you about different meals you can make, if you offer to make one he’ll say yes but then immediately feel bad for being a bother to you and distracting you from cooking for the rest of the crew

but when you do cook for him? it’s like he’s on heaven. like nami and zoro, he takes his time enjoying what you’ve made for him. he doesn’t really look at the details like nami does cause it’s food, he’s hungry but he’ll take his time to enjoy it longer than he normally does

if you offer to teach him how to cook he’ll say yes, but will apologize every 30 seconds if he messes up or doesn’t follow the correct instructions. he’s not bad at it either… well making toast at least.

Sanji

at first he’s intimidated over the fact that someone else on the ship can cook and from what he’s heard, it’s better than his. he’s very cold to you at the beginning before he realizes how much this is just like the baratie

one day he comes to you and you two talk it out, eventually opting to work together in the kitchen to make meals that make the whole crew happy and sleep well at the end of the night

sanji won’t admit it but he enjoys having someone in the kitchen, even after preaching that it was his sacred space and no one was allowed there he didn’t mind having you back there

and when you weren’t there, it was mildly hectic. you always knew how to make the meals feel more special, give it that family and homey feel but he’s stuck in the old restaurant ways

he’ll cook you something and even when he does he tries to push his limits to make something similar to you, even though he messes up you still enjoy the thought

when you cook for him it shocks him, he’s not used to being cooked for but when he tries to the food he understands why the rest of the crew says yours simply just… tastes better. he’ll definitely ask you for your secrets, if you have any

[thescarletnargacuga]

Okay so like I know you don’t do art but like could we have a short fic of Raceway Pomni trying to eat a burger in piece while literally everyone interrupts her?

I am slightly obsessed over your raceway au….

A/N: I have actual tears in my eyes. You're the very first person to submit an ask about Raceway! You have no idea what this means to me. A part of me was starting to think that Raceway was too boring to be engaging... Thank you

BURGER

A RACEWAY AU ONESHOT

AU by yours truly

WARNING: NONE

~~~

Pomni stood in front of the dining room table in the racer's garage. Hands in her hips she calls for the bubble chef. "Hey, could I get a burger?"

A bubble assistant wearing a chef hat appeared. "Why, yes you can!" A single beef patty materialized and plopped onto the table.

Pomni gives the bubble a deadpan glare. "I would like more than just the burger patty. Please."

"You'll have to be specific." Bubble said with a toothy smile.

"Fine. Lettuce, onion, pickle, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, cheese. That specific enough for you?"

The listed condiments piled onto the burger patty unceremoniously. Pomni facepalmed. "The bun, bubble. The bun."

"Well, why didn't you say-"

"JUST GiVE ME THE [%$!#] BUN!" Pomni snapped.

"Yeesh, someone's hangry."

A bun popped into existence, sandwiching the pile of burger together neatly. Pomni grumbled to herself as she took her burger towards the lounge to eat in comfort. "Annoying little- you know what you're doing. Wasting my burger time. How dare."

The door to Gummigoo's room on the second floor loft flew open, startling Pomni. She looked up to see the gummy gator covered in marker and absolutely fuming. He stormed to Jax's room and pounded the door. "I know you're in there you sugar snorting son of a glitch!"

Pomni heard a sniggering voice from the kart line behind her. "Hehe...no, I'm not."

Gummigoo heard and turned to glare over the railing and down to Jax relaxing in his kart seat. "Stop coming into my room and drawing on my face!! So you know how hard this is to remove!?"

"Uh, yeah. It's called permanent marker for a reason." Jax smirked. "Of course, if you'd rather do something else when I visit... I'm open to suggestions." He winked.

Gummigoo's face flushed and he snorted. "You think you're funny!?"

"And fabulous." Jax taunted.

"Oh my GOD would you two get a room!?" Zooble loudly complained from her favorite pinball machine in the lounge.

"Gummigoo said I could have his." Jax grinned, enjoying every second Gummigoo was flustered. He was too easy to mess with.

"YOU WISH!!" Gummigoo shouted, blushing beyond belief.

Pomni did her best to ignore the shouting and had a seat in one of the plush recliners. She opened her mouth to have a bite when she felt something crawling up her back. She jumped out of the chair and brushed herself off in a ick-ed out panic. A bead necklace looking bug, fell off to the floor. "Ugh...KINGER! I FOUND MELISSA!"

"Oh, yay!" Kinger popped up from behind the pool table. "She's been missing all morning. Thank you, Pomni." There was a smile in his eyes as he collected his favorite insect.

Pomni sat back down in a huff and tried to eat. A piece of paper blocked her mouth from touching the burger.

"Look what I drew you!" Gangle proclaimed, holding the art directly in Pomni's face.

Pomni tasted the crayon and spluttered. "Bleh- um...thanks." It was a rather nice drawing of her. She took it and gave Gangle a small smile. Gangle skipped away happily over to Zooble to watch them play pinball.

Pomni looked both ways and behind her to see if anyone else was going to interrupt her meal. Satisfied that everyone else in the garage was busy doing something else, she went in for a bite.

"Pomni!" Ragatha called as she rushed over.

Pomni squeezed her burger so tight, it almost fell apart. "What??"

"I have such an exciting thing to tell you! Caine confirmed that Loo will be integrated into every track from today onward because he saw how happy she made me!! Caine is finally taking a hint, ha! Things are actually improving around here!" Ragatha stomped her feet excitedly.

"That's great." Pomni said flatly. It was not burger-interruption worthy news.

"Isn't it!?" Ragatha giddily continued, oblivious to Pomni's silent annoyance. "I could see Loo every day!"

"No one cares about your candy flavored girlfriend, dollface!" Jax heckled.

"Like you're one to talk!" Ragatha snapped back.

"It's not like that, it's just hilarious how angry he gets." Jax looked away.

"I highly doubt that! You tick people off all the time, but he's the only one you openly flirt with and then call it teasing to cover your tracks." Ragatha put her hands on her hips with a satisfied smirk as she watched Jax's face flush a bit.

"Watch it , rags! Or you'll find Carl on your pillow tonight!" Jax growled.

"YOU PUT THAT CENTIPEDE ANYWHERE NEAR ME, I SWEAR-!"

Pomni shot up out of her seat and stormed out of the garage. Enough of this. Enough of everyone. She wants to eat her goddamn burger in peace. She crossed the lawn to the default track. It was a quiet, breezy day. Very peaceful. Artificial wind blew through the grassy indefinite hills, creating shiny waves of green.

She crosses the track to the empty audience stands and throws herself into the first available open seat. Pomni was alone, just her and the refreshing digital day outside. She took a calming breath and went to eat.

"Hello, my dear!" Caine popped into existence next to her.

"AAH-!! WHAT-!?" Pomni tossed her burger. It splattered on the ground in front of the stands.

"Nice day for an outdoor lunch?" Caine raised a brow, confused as to why she just threw her food.

"I wouldn't know." Pomni said, defeated.

"I'm glad you're not busy, because there's something I've been wanting to ask-"

"Race me." Pomni needed to get her frustration out somehow. The track was calling to her raging spirit.

"What?" Caine gasped.

"You heard me. Everyone wants to talk to me so bad, to the point that I literally lose my lunch! You know what, you want my attention? Earn it."

Her intense look gave Caine chills. She was always beautiful to him, but especially when she was fired up. He snapped his fingers and their karts appeared at the start line of the track. "After you."

Pomni marches from her seat to her kart. Caine flew over, his kart starting on its own when he took his seat. The start line comes alive, lighting up with colorful displays. Engines rev as Bubble appears to do the honors of the start lights. "Racers ready?"

Caine and Pomni look at each other with determined smirks and nod.

Bubble stuck out their tongue, the starting light hanging from it.

First light...

Pomni gripped the steering wheel tight.

Second light...

Another rev for good measure, the roar of the engine exciting her.

Third light...

She catches Caine's glance again at the last second and kisses at him.

GREEN!!

Caine is completely caught off guard and bungles his start. Pomni takes off laughing. He shifts gears with a grin. "God, I love her." He puts the pedal to the floor, his tires scream and golden flames fly out of the tailpipes as he rockets after her.

[byllsbytch]

☆Bricked Up☆

We sat backstage, awaiting yet another interview to begin. It was the second one of that day, one more to go. We'd just arrived back in Berlin. It was a new normal, not just the traveling, but every time you touched down you were being thrown into another interview. The boys were all pigging out on the big charcuterie board, while I sat still stuck in the chair getting my makeup fixed. 

"She still looks like a clown!" Bill critiqued gesturing his hands to my face. He always focused on the little things. At times like this he couldn't entice himself with food like the other boys. When he was nervous he refused to eat. He couldn't, no matter how many interviews he did he could never get over that same old, sick, overwhelming feeling. 

Bill crossed his arms, staring at me in deep in thought, his eyebrows furrowing together.

 "How can you get so light with a foundation?" Bill complained biting his nails, Georg turned his head, diverting his focus from the cheese and crackers to Bills stressed comments. He nodded in agreement - shoving another pickled onion in his mouth. 

"Scheiße!" He screeched at the stylist, swatting her brush from my face. He got fed up and pulled me from my chair taking me back into the fitting room. 

"Thank you" I whispered. 

"Oh not a problem, now lets see. They should have some thing better back here, something for like an interview with Christina Aguilera or something, I don't know."

-

-

Bill led me out of the fitting rooms, he'd wiped off the makeup and redid my eyeliner like his. We also managed to scavenge for a turquoise and brown halter top with low rise flare jeans. My hair sat wavy with random plaits in my skunk hair. The fit was kinda out of my usual style but it was better than what I looked like previously and to be honest, I was really feeling myself.

"Where have you two been?" Adela questioned holding her ear piece as to prevent herself from being heard by others, "You're on in three!"

The boys already sat in the couch waiting for the cameras to go on air. The room was already loud and giddy but as me and bill walked out into view the whole room erupted loudly in screams and praise.

Tom looked over in our direction and readjusted him self on the couch, getting Gustav to scoot along as he did so. I sat next to Tom seeing as though he made room on the couch. We looked at each other and smiled. 

"Bill did a great job, you look smoking." Tom winked. I felt my cheeks grow hot and forced myself to face the audience. I struggled containing myself but I had no choice but to do so, we were live now. 

"Tokio Hotel joins us tonight while on their Zimmer 483 Tour." the interviewer says with a smile, staring directly in the camera. "Guys, Germany wants to know, how's it been returning home to perform?" 

-

-

The interviewer turned to me, ready to shoot another question. “Y/N, me - along with many other audience members - have noticed you have something pretty eye catching on your belly button."

I looked down at my navel, forgetting the piercing that laid there.

"That is right." I replied looking up to see even the Tokio boys staring at my stomach. Tom smirked then bit his lip.

"It appears even your band members are surprised by your new bedazzlement." He noted.

The dread-head looked me up and down then altered the way he was sitting. Fixing the bag in his pants then pulling the oversized shirt to his knees. 

"When did that happen, why did you choose to get it done?"

"Well. it happened back in uhh, France so about 2 weeks ago and I got it done because, why not? They're pretty cute and right now I have a little playboy bunny dangling from my belly. Pretty neat isn't it?"

The audience and the boys laughed at my response, and I felt a rush of confidence knowing I could make them all smile. The interview continued with questions about our tour, our music, and our upcoming plans. We answered as best as we could, trying to keep it lighthearted and fun.

As the interview came to an end, the boys and I stood up to thank the host and the audience. Tom waited for me to rise first before he got up and stood behind me. His face was flushed as I felt a bulge poke me in the back. My eyes widened as I turned back slightly to look at Tom. He placed his hands on my shoulders and spun me back to face the front not giving me a chance to look away from the audience ahead of us. He tilted his head back slightly, squeezing his eyes tight and biting his lip trying to get his excitement to go away. I felt Tom's hand on my lower back as he used me as a shield, guiding me to the side as we prepared to leave the set. Doing everything in his power to cover this embarrassing moment from the live cameras.

Once we got behind the curtain, Tom grabbed the hat off his head and discreetly placed it over the tent in his jeans. It was the fastest I'd ever seen Tom dart to our dressing room.

"That was amazing, you did great," Bill whispered-yelled to me as soon as we exited the stage.

"Thanks, I couldn't have done it without your help," I replied, feeling grateful for his support.

"Hmm, wonder what happened with Tom" Georg smirked.

As we made our way back to our dressing room, the 3 boys teased me about my new belly button piercing, making jokes and laughing together. As Gustav went to open the dressing room door it was abruptly swung open from the other side to reveal a panting Tom with a smug look on his face.

"Oh hey guys." He breathed his voice was all over the place. "Just a bit puffed out"

”Oh my god!” Bill gagged.

Me and Gustav chuckled while Georg lent towards him and gave him a fist bump.

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Kids and a 'break up'

quinn hughes x nhl player!reader

note: takes place probably april 9th

warning: period blood, maybe getting second hand embarrassment, pregnancy/kids talk (no one gets pregnant)

word count: 1k

The sun shining through the blinds, waking Y/n from her deep sleep. Slowly slipping Quinn’s arm from around her waist, shuffling towards the bathroom, the cold apartment is a stark difference from the warm bed especially with just wearing a pair of Quinn’s boxers and a cropped t-shirt. 

The girl washing her face and brushing her teeth, then moving to the toilet, only then did Y/n notice the crisis she was in. She hadn’t gotten her period in a couple months, and it always was irregular so it was only a matter of time until this happened. 

“Oh fuck..” Y/n mumbles to herself, before getting a tampon from under the sink, Quinn had bought some without her asking after the woman started staying over more and more. The boy was always so thoughtful towards her and it wasn’t just this, he learned that she hates onions and when they went out with the team the other night he reminded her to ask for no onions when she forgot, and always lets her have a bite of whatever he’s having. And it was to the point where it was starting to worry Y/n that maybe Quinn was getting attached, but that was not something to worry about right now.

 Then washing her hands, and exiting the bathroom to find Quinn stripping the bed. “No Quinny, you don’t have to do that.” she assures the boy, walking over to her side of the bed to take over, “No, no, I can. Grab another pair of boxers from my drawer.” What he was saying was embarrassing, the fact he saw the blood spot on his boxers she was wearing, but the way Quinn said it was so caring, and understanding. That she couldn’t help but not feel embarrassed at all. Folding up the sheet, and moving towards the door, “I’m gonna go wash these.” “Thanks, Quinny.” “Of course.”

After changing into a new pair of Quinn’s boxers, Y/n makes her way into the living room and seeing the man sitting on the couch, “Hey, baby!” “Hey, sorry about that.” “Nah, it’s fine, it’s natural.. And at least we know you’re not pregnant.” maybe not a good topic to bring up with your teammate/fuck-buddy, especially when he wants more from their relationship. 

“Oh well, don’t have to worry about that.” The woman laughs out, but looking up when she didn’t hear Quinn join in, “What do you mean?” Looking up from her phone, “My tubes are tied, I can’t get pregnant” “Ever?” “No not never, I also got my eggs frozen so after I retire if I want kids I'll have them then.” At that, Y/n thought the conversation was done. But Quinn was not done at all.

“‘If’? You’re not sure you want kids?” Quinn had made all these plans for them in his head, but this was the first time he thought they might not happen; for a reason other than him being too scared to ever ask her out on a date.

But Y/n being Y/n was oblivious to the fact that Quinn clearing wanted more, and that this conversation to him wasn’t between friends, it was between himself and the girl he wants more than anything. So of course, once again, she gives him a one dimensional answer, “Well it’s hard to say, not anytime soon. Not that I had a guy even if I did want them now.”

“What about me?”

There was a significant shift in the air, Y/n finally realising how important this conversation was to him, putting down her phone; looking into Quinn’s eyes, reading every thought, and feeling every emotion. “...Quinn. No. No- that’s not fair, you knew this was nothing serious. We agreed this was nothing serious-”

Quinn abruptly stands, walking into the kitchen pouring himself a glass of water, “I wasn’t done! Quinn, we said we wouldn’t get attached, that this was-” “Well you can't control when you love someone.”

After another pause between them, Y/n not knowing how to process or respond to Quinn’s confession. He loved her. And before this, Y/n thought she didn’t have any feelings other than sexual attraction, but at this moment; Y/n couldn’t say that.

And that terrified her.

“Quinn. We can’t do that. And I don’t feel the same-” The woman was cut off, by Quinn finally fully expressing his emotions, harshly setting the glass in his hand on the counter with a loud noise, “Don’t tell me you don’t. ‘Cause with the way you act with me I can tell you do. And I know that scares you, but I'm tired of pretending that I don't want more with you.”

Turning her face away, no longer being able to look at Quinn any longer without bursting into tears. Because, god, he was right. She liked him- maybe loved him, but that doesn’t change the fact she wasn’t ready. “I don’t.” She had never lied to Quinn, it felt weird coming out of her mouth. 

“Bullshit! I know you do!” “I don’t love you.” “Why can’t you?”

Turning her face back to face the man, tears streaming down her face, and seeing the mirroring image back at her on him. “I think we should end this… I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh well, don’t have to worry about that.”

Quickly gathering her things, Y/n exits the apartment she has grown to know so well over the past few months, she loved every part of it. Hot tears were rolling down her cheeks, while in the elevator, in the lobby, and getting in her car. Slamming the door shut, mad at the world, and at herself. “Fuck!” Y/n loved the time she and Quinn spent together, wishing she could let herself be happy, her heart telling her Quinn would never hurt her, but her head telling the opposite. What she didn’t expect to happen was her doing all the hurting.

After the door shuts to his apartment, Quinn letting out all his feelings and emotions, slams his fist into the wall; making a small dent. “Fuck!” At the start of their ‘relationship’ he couldn’t even call it that, Quinn thought he would finally break down all her walls and get to be with the girl he loved, someone he thought would never hurt him, that he spent so much time making sure he didn’t cross boundaries and didn’t hurt her, what he didn’t expect was her doing the all hurting.

~taglist~

@books-hlmc

[flamingtouya]

𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 — 𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐢/𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐚

word count: 1262

cw: none other than dabi's foul language

summary: dabi encounters a cat. i continue to spoon-feed this man happiness. based on this prompt by the lovely @scarlettcryptid ♡

Before he knows it, a quiet ‘Pss-pss-pss’ leaves his lips.

He tries it all.

Clicking his tongue, saying - whispering - “Here, stupid fucking kitty”, because god forbid someone hears. Slowly putting his hand out, some more ‘Pss-pss’-ing - anything that had worked on the neighbours’ cats when Fuyumi did it.

Here he sits; Todoroki Touya, a man stripped of all dignity at the sight of a fat cat.

The concrete is cold underneath his palm. Dabi welcomes April’s spring breeze, a strand of jet black hair tickling his cheek as he pulls the strings of his hoodie tighter. The dewy scent of the morning air is overtaken by the intense smell of steaming hot Yakitori, fresh off the grill, bought - not stolen - bought with his own, hard-earned cash money. (That, admittedly, he had stolen.)

You’ve got to indulge, the vendor had shouted, in the little pleasures! Treat yourself to life's delectable delights! Two plus two, Weekday special! Don’t miss out on-

“Screw you,” he’d told her, shoving the money on the little silver tray next to the register, scowling when she still served him with a bright smile, one that reminded him of Fuyumi’s excited grin every time she’d successfully pulled off a trick on her beautifully painted Kendama. Fuyumi would be so upset, he thinks, if she knew where he gets his food from these days.

He pulls the first skewer from the paper box, diligently inspecting a grain of Szechuan pepper. Dabi hasn’t laid eyes upon a spice in months - especially not one this pricey.

No, ever since he’s made a temporary home in the outer area of the city, it’s been nothing but dumpster diving and collecting restaurant leftovers for him. Stale bread. Expired cookies. Plain rice, cooked in an old bean can. Salted butter. Some Chili powder on top of his potatoes, if the old man at the soup kitchen was feeling generous.

Compared to the barely digestible nutrients his body runs on, the sight mere inches from his face is a divine gift.

After turning it over once more he finally takes a small bite, careful to pull the piece of chicken off the skewer with his front teeth. He’s become even more sensitive to temperature lately, and his teeth are the most annoying aspect. Not the sizzling of his flesh when he overuses his quirk, not the burn behind his eyes as they go dry. Those he’s gotten used to rather quickly. But when most of the food you eat is either cold or poorly reheated, the sensation of something hot is bound to cause major discomfort.

It’s not as bad as he expects. Neither the temperature sensitivity nor the taste. He begins to chew more boldly, savouring the harmonious balance between onion and garlic, sea salt and pepper, topped with tare sauce and just a hint of lemon. Say about the outskirt markets what you will, but those street food vendors do know how to grill a chicken.

Dabi doesn’t notice how quiet it’s gotten until something chirps behind him.

A cat.

A rather well-fed cat.

A cat that technically isn’t overweight, but its thick fur coat still makes it look a little fat.

Black with a white tummy and some spots of orange near its paws, sitting two arms’ lengths away. Its eyes follow the skewer as he moves it to one side, then the other, then dangles it upside down. Some grease drips onto the grass of the porch he’s sitting on. He finishes the remaining pieces of chicken and pulls out the second skewer, eyes shifting between his precious meal and the overly attentive cat.

Finally, he decides to pinch off a small piece, chewing at the spiced crust until it’s gone. He tosses the plain chicken towards the cat but to his surprise, it flinches and retreats behind a large flower pot.

The little fucker.

Wasted half a bite of perfectly good food.

Dabi turns his attention back towards his steaming Yakitori. Some time passes. He doesn’t know if it’s seconds or minutes that he zones out looking at the flowering apricot tree in the distance, but he’s pulled back to reality by soft chewing noises. Careful not to make another sudden movement he shifts a bit, just enough to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, the feline is greedily nibbling at the slice of meat. The two of them make brief eye contact before turning their attention back to their respective meals.

The sound behind him subsides shortly after and is replaced by a soft purring, one that he knows isn’t directed at him. He lets the cat have another piece from his third skewer nonetheless, this time giving it a gentle toss so it lands a few inches closer.

Still visibly tense, it takes a few steps forward and sniffs at the chicken before gulping it down in a few bites. Greedy shit, Dabi thinks, as he sacrifices yet another precious piece. He puts it down at his side, rubbing his fingers together. The cat’s attention is on the meat immediately, ears twitching as it courageously inches closer towards Dabi. He finishes the last of his Yakitori, never breaking eye contact with the cowardly little furball next to him.

Before he knows it, a quiet ‘Pss-pss-pss’ leaves his lips.

He tries it all.

Clicking his tongue, saying - whispering - “Here, stupid fucking kitty”, because god forbid someone hears. Slowly putting his hand out, some more ‘Pss-pss’-ing - anything that had worked on the neighbours’ cats when Fuyumi did it.

Here he sits; Todoroki Touya, a man stripped of all dignity at the sight of a fat cat.

After a thorough standoff, the cat’s curiosity gets the better of it. It keeps its stomach low as it sneaks across the ground, stretching its long neck to sniff at the finger that Dabi used to pull the Yakitori off the skewer earlier.

“If you bite me, I’m sending you to the coat factory.”

As if that theory was being tested, Dabi feels a sudden nip at his fingers. Cursing, he pulls back slightly, only to see the mischievous fucker’s pupils go wider. He wipes the bits of chicken grease off in the dewy grass and offers his palm again, checking both sides of the street to make sure nobody’s looking.

As if to taunt him, the little furball pounces and takes a swipe at Dabi’s hand before he can turn his attention back to the porch. It chatters in surprise when the man pulls away just in time.

Fucker, as Dabi decides to dub this newfound enemy of his, darts toward his other hand where he’s drawing lazy patterns on the concrete. With its claws half out and its tail puffed up, it races toward the wall, around the flower pot and jumps back onto the lawn to take another playful swing at Dabi’s limbs. Minutes later, he’s got the little menace chasing his fingers in circles, losing balance here and there and rolling over ever so often.

He’s focused, eagerly following the cat’s every move, trying to predict its attacks by the flick of its tail, an ear twitch, pupils that narrow ever so slightly before it leaps forward.

He’ll never admit it. That for once, there’s a sudden lack of grief in his heart.

Only when the first ray of sunshine hits the outer edge of the garden does he let himself fall backwards. The cat is but a purring weight on his thigh, stretching its paws across his lap with the softest ‘Meow’. Eyes closed and arms stretched out, he inhales slowly and holds his breath until he feels his pulse slow down. Dabi doesn’t care that his hair is getting a little wet, doesn’t care that the grass tickling his ears stings a little, doesn’t care that he’ll probably have red marks on his hands for a while.

If he shuts his eyes hard enough, he might still be able to convince himself that Touya is dead.

[trashyswitch]

Day 6: Cuddles

Kremy and Gideon sit down, just the two of them together as they eat gumbo, reminisce about family moments and tickle each other till the evening come.

A little less late for this one...but I had a reason this time. I went to a friend's wedding that day, and couldn't upload as a result. So regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Kremy added the diced peppers, the yellow onion, and the cloves of garlic to the pumpkin pot before stirring the gumbo around. The gumbo looked like a thick stew, with a mud-like roux. When it looked stirred up enough, Kremy pulled out the cajun seasoning and spun it in his hand before shaking some around the top of the stew. He continued to shake the seasoning with his right hand as he stirred with his left hand. 

“Lookin’ good, Kremy.” Someone said behind him, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

Kremy smiled and put the cajun seasoning into his left fingers before pulling the person closer and kissing his lips. A few moments later, he broke the kiss before saying “Thought you could walk away, Gid?”. 

“Eh, figured I couldn’t.” Gideon admitted. 

Kremy took a spoon and gave Gideon a small bit of the gumbo. “Spicy enough?” He asked. 

Gideon tried it and hummed eagerly. “Mmmm! That’s perfect!” He reacted, giving Kremy the spoon back. 

Kremy took the spoon and placed it aside, replacing the spoon with a new one before trying it himself. “Mmm- That’s good.” He said, putting the second spoon down. 

Gideon sat down and watched Kremy cook the gumbo for a little longer, before it was served in bowls. 

“Is this the gumbo you grew up with?” Gideon asked, taking Kremy’s bowl for him while letting Kremy sit himself down beside him. 

“Yeah, it is.” Kremy sat down beside Gideon before taking his bowl. “My Maw would always make this gumbo whenever I was sick, or down on my luck. She’d make it extra spicy too, because she knew it would make my stuffy nose run.” Kremy told him. “And…cause she knew I liked spice.” Kremy added. 

“Fair enough.” Gideon responded, taking in another mouthful of gumbo. 

“Yeah…My maw was pretty good.” He admitted. 

Gideon smiled. “I’ll bet.” He took another bite of the gumbo. “What else did your Mom do when you were down?” Gideon asked. 

Kremy took another bite of the gumbo as he reminisced about his mother. “She used to tell me stories of how my parents met, and some of the date nights they used to have.” Kremy told him. “She also used to tell embarrassing stories about my Dad, and would actually encourage me to ask Dad about them.” Kremy told him, laughing a bit. “It was so funny seeing him get all flustered and worked up.” Kremy admitted. 

Gideon smiled and laughed a bit. “Wow…I think I’d feel pretty betrayed too.” He admitted. 

“And if I got him worked up just enough, he would chase me all around the house. If I ended up caught, he would ‘nibble away at the fibs’, as he called it.” Kremy explained.

“Nibble away…at the fibs…” Gideon asked. 

“In other words…tickle me.” Kremy admitted. “He would pretend to nibble at my belly.” Kremy admitted. 

“Oooh, like the ‘Om nom nom nom’ sounds…” Gideon replicated the sound as best he could. 

Kremy yelped and covered his mouth. “AH-!” A small smile filled his cheeks. “Y-Yeah…like that.” He said, his voice going up an octave. 

“Was that accurate?” Gideon asked. 

“Yehes! Too accurate!” Kremy admitted. 

“Too accurate, eh?” Gideon smirked slightly. 

Kremy chuckled awkwardly. “Dohon’t you even think about it!” He warned. 

“Think about what?” Gideon asked. 

“Trying it!” Kremy yelled back. 

“I wasn’t going to!” Gideon reacted. 

“Okay, good.” Kremy muttered, trying to get the pink on his cheeks to go away. 

A couple moments of silence filled the air…Only for Gideon to look towards Kremy with a growing smirk. “But on the other hand-” 

“DON’T!” Kremy pushed his face away, letting out an embarrassed laugh. “I swear!” Kremy reacted. But Kremy’s smile told Gideon everything. If Gideon did go ahead with it, then he wouldn’t really push him away. Not intentionally, anyway. Knowing him, he’d probably just let it happen. 

“You swear?” Gideon asked. “And what would your Dad do if you swore?” Gideon asked, gently taking Kremy’s half-filled bowl of gumbo. 

“H-He’d-” Kremy mumbled. The warlock gator was struggling to hide his face as his cheeks grew more and more scarlet. Part of him wanted to run away. But the other part of him wanted to see how playful Gideon can be. It was a vicious cycle in his head that he was struggling to fight. 

Gideon took in a big breath, scaring Kremy in the process. In no time at all, Gideon shoved his face into Kremy’s shoulder and started making the nibbling sounds while tickling his sides. 

“GIHIHID- HAHAhahahaha!” Kremy squeezed his eyes shut before wiggling around in his grip. “Gihihid, come ohohohohon!” Kremy whined. 

“What’s this? Is this code for “tickle me more”?” Gideon asked him. 

“Whahahat?!” Kremy wiggled around and waved his arms, unsure if he should cover up his sides, or push Gideon’s face away. 

“Om nom nom nom nom nom nom.” Gideon said playfully. His nibbling sounds were positioned straight into his ear, making his flustered face even worse. Maybe that was the reason why his Paw used to tickle him? 

“Gihihihid, stohohohop!” Kremy said through his laughter. 

“Stop what?” Gideon asked him. 

“Tihihickling mehehehe!” Kremy told him. 

“Nom nom nom- yes, I am tickling you. Thanks for the wonderful insight, Kremy.” Gideon teased, before going right back to the nomming sounds. 

“Yohohou suhuhuck!” Kremy told him. 

“Nom-nom- Are you sure about that? Nom-nom-nom-nom-nom-” Gideon asked him. 

Kremy had been handling the playfulness rather well. Sensing he could get him back, Kremy spun himself around as fast as he could, and tickled Gideon’s sides back. 

“Wha- Oh FUHUCK! GAHAHAhahaha!” Gideon dropped his composure and immediately started curling up. “Nohohohoho! Nohoho fahahair!” Gideon reacted. 

“What do you mean ‘not fair’?! You started this! And I’m ending it.” Kremy leaned in and started doing the nibbling sounds as well. “Om-nom-nom-nom-nom! Om-nom-nom-nom-nom-nom!” Kremy imitated, sounding slightly like his father. “You thought you could embarrass me and get away with it?” Kremy asked. 

“Nohohohoho!” Gideon replied. 

“That’s what I thought.” Kremy said as he stopped his clawed fingers. When he was done, Kremy sat himself up and picked up his gumbo before taking another bite. Though the gumbo had cooled down, it was still relatively on the warm side. Kremy watched Gideon pick up his own bowl and finish his gumbo as well. 

When he was done, Gideon put his bowl down and snuggled himself into Kremy’s chest. Kremy widened his eyes and looked at him, but softened his expression when he saw how comfy he looked. 

Gideon’s face looked calm, and quiet. He looked really comfortable around him. This was a striking difference compared to how Gideon acted when he was first getting to know the Fire Genasi. 

Kremy wrapped his arms around Gideon and held him close. When this happened, he saw Gideon open his eyes and look up at him. “You okay?” He asked. 

Gideon looked at him and smiled a little bit. “Yeah…” He nodded his head. “I’m okay.” He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. 

Kremy rubbed his arm and back gently. He wanted to make sure Gideon felt safe and secure when laying in his arms. And it seemed to be working well for him. Gideon’s usually tense body was slowly easing as his breaths grew slower and quiet. His hardened demeanor and hotheaded outward appearance was gone…

Gideon looked so peaceful…

it was…almost beautiful. 

“Do you ever miss your parents?” Gideon asked. 

Kremy shrugged his shoulders. “Sometimes, yeah…” He admitted. 

“Mm…” Gideon looked up at Kremy. “Did you feel…comfortable when you were with your parents?” He asked next. 

Kremy smiled. “Sometimes, yeah.” The gator admitted. 

Gideon smiled. “I feel really comfortable around you.” Gideon admitted. “Maybe that means I consider you family?” He asked him. 

Kremy looked down at Gideon and smiled brightly. “I consider you family too, Gid.” Kremy admitted. 

Gideon smiled and hugged him just a little tighter. “Thank you…” He told him. 

Kremy rubbed his back gently. “You’re welcome.” He replied. 

Gideon looked up at Kremy, before smirking slightly. Sensing a little opportunity, Gideon started to poke and prod Kremy’s side. 

“aAh- Haha- Gihid- NAHA!” Kremy immediately started getting him back. 

“Gahahaha! Dohon’t you dahahare!” Gideon ordered, squeezing his side. 

“Whadda ya mean- KKHAAHAHAHA!” Kremy laughed, desperately trying to get him back. 

“Yeheah! Laugh it up, little- WAHAIT- SHIHIHIT!” Gideon instinctively started to curl up and hide his tickle spots. “NOHOHO!” 

“Yohou giving up?” Kremy asked, wiggling a finger into his belly button. 

“Yehehe- BAHAHA! YEHEHES! YES, IHI GIVE UHUHUP!” 

“You gonna kindly stop tickling me now?” Kremy asked him. 

“YEHEHES, IHIHI WIHIHILL! NOHOW STAHAHAP!” Gideon yelled. 

“Alright, alright.” Kremy stopped his fingers. “Good.” He told him. 

“Jeeheeheez…Ihit’s scary how well you can do that.” Gideon admitted. 

“Do what?” Kremy asked with a smirk. 

“Tickle people. It’s almost scary.” Gideon clarified. 

Kremy smiled and poked his side. “Just know that I’m always ready for a fight whenever you tickle me.” Kremy warned. 

“Just like your old man?” Gideon asked. 

“Exactly like my old man.” Kremy concluded with a proud smile. 

[scaryscarecrows]

"We gotta get rid of her," Mark says shortly, not even twisting around to look at the corpse. "It's unsanitary."

"'ve stayed in worse places," Antoine wheezes, at the same time that Jason murmurs, "Arkham was worse."

"Both of you shut up. No. You be quiet and sit with your ice pack, you shush and think about your life choices."

Jimmy eyes the corpse. There's a lot of ways to get rid of a body if it's intact; a tried and true method is to slap a face mask on it, get on the bus, ride about an hour, and then slip off during a rush. By the time anybody realizes that 'sleeping, sick person' isn't doing so hot, you're long gone. Unfortunately, the boss shot her head off and there's not much you can do to hide that. Missing hand, sure. Hell, a broken neck you can manage; get a cheap brace at the pharmacy, or get real creative with a scarf! Head gone? Not so much.

"You got a cleaver?" Trent's already moving. Antoine blinks at him for a few seconds.

"Yeah?"

"Riley, go get that for me. Frank, go out and gemme a cheap eight by ten rug."

"Seriously?" Jimmy asks. Trent shrugs.

"Meat 'n bone all cuts the same. And since her head's gone, my options are limited."

"What do you want me to do?"

"What any good friend does on moving day." Trent grabs an ankle and hefts the corpse off the floor. "Call take-out and rustle up some beer."

"I got vodka," Antoine rasps. Mark hisses at him. Trent hums.

"Good. Jimmy, man, just call somebody and get that shit flowing. Sober dismemberment's boring as all hell."

"Watch for booby traps," the boss suddenly says, sounding more awake than he did earlier. "S'how she got the drop on me."

"I'm not surprised." Trent cracks his neck. "Relax, boss, this ain't my first rodeo."

"Yeah, I know." He swallows, cracks a wry grin. "But she beat the shit outta me first. If you go on a rampage, you can do some damage."

Jimmy scrolls through Domino's website while Trent trudges towards the bathroom. A trail of blood marks his path, but honestly, there's blood everywhere right now. Headshots are messy, and apparently Antoine put up a decent fight because there's bloody handprints smeared in several places.

Okay...it's been a while, but his memory's pretty solid. Alfredo pasta for Riley, bacon black olive pizza for Antoine and Mark, double mushroom for Trent, Canadian ham and red onion for him, calzone for Frank...

"Hey, boss, whatcha want from Domino's?"

"Hrm?"

'You gotta eat something."

"Oh." He shrugs. "Pepperoni's fine. Doesn't matter."

Fine. Pepperoni it is. Maybe he'll snag a slice of that. It's been a while.

"We got half an hour. I'll just meet him outside. Hey! Half hour to pizza!"

"Good!" Trent hollers. "Now where's my vodka?"

Yeah. That sounds good right about now. Antoine always gets these good mixers, too; ginger beer with an actual bite, mostly, but sometimes grapefruit. Or blood orange.

Ginger beer today, and once Trent's happy with a lidded cup to keep blood spatters out, he pours himself a strong one.

Christ. There'd been about forty minutes that he'd been convinced he'd kick the door down to...not this. And there'd been several hours that he'd been waiting for Antoine to call and tell him it was all over.

He gives himself a good shake, pours out some more, and gathers them onto a rusted-over cookie sheet when he doesn't spot a tray.

"Vodka is served."

[metalnecklace]

There Was Heaven In Your Eyes

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Words: 1361

Warnings: None, really. I don’t know how divorces work, so maybe that.

Notes: This series is done! Thank you so so much to everyone who has kept up with it. I have the second part in the works but it won’t start to be released for a while. In the meantime I will have plenty of other little things in between.

Masterlist

Epilogue

“Agent Peña, how much do you know about the Cali cartel?”

Javier sat with that question, knowing what it would mean to continue on. After everything he went through in Colombia, he wasn’t sure he could do it again. Not alone, anyway.

“That depends,” he said, sitting back and crossing his arms. “I have a few requests.”

-

On his way home he stopped by the local market, taking his time to pick out the freshest vegetables he needed to make dinner that night. His father was out with friends until late, participating in his weekly cards night, which meant Javi had the house to himself.

He had her all to himself.

The reason he felt he could go back to Colombia to take down the godfathers. That is, if she was willing to take up his offer.

He just had to pick up one more thing before getting home to her.

-

When Javi got home the house was incredibly silent. Fear clutched at his heart until he found her wrapped up in blankets on the couch. Her eyes were shut, eyelashes twitching gently against her cheeks, and her mouth was slightly open to allow her soft snores to reach his ears. The anxiety that had swelled in his chest slowly turned into a burn, a heat that bloomed into his veins.

It was obvious what he was feeling, the word pushing up his throat until it sat heavy on his tongue. It would be so easy to tell her, but he feared how she would react. The last time he professed his feelings for someone it felt forced. He said it because he felt he had to, whereas the way he was feeling about her felt so natural to him. She was like the air he needed to breathe.

But she had been through so much, between her ex-husband and the Escobar’s. Did he want her to feel obligated to stay with him? He asked her weekly if she wanted to leave, or if she was happy with him, and she always held his face between her hands and insisted she didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world except by his side. That was enough for him, until the thoughts crept up again.

Maybe she was happy with him, but did she love him? Would she feel trapped if he confessed his feelings for her?

Instead of worrying about saying it, he showed it in his actions. Especially in his cooking. Because of her he decided to learn how to cook properly, both by cooking with her and practicing for her. He wanted to take care of her the way she took care of him in Colombia. Plus he loved the way she lit up after the first bite of a new recipe.

He went to work chopping up peppers and onions, mincing garlic, and prepping the already marinated chicken to be cooked. He was just making a roast, not worrying about being too fancy, since he mostly wanted to spend the night showing his love in a more physical way. Even though it was fun trying to keep quiet while pushing her buttons, he loved the nights without his father around so he could hear every sweet noise spilling from her lips. All for him.

After placing everything in the oven he set the timer on the stove. He could feel her more than hear her as her presence suddenly filled the room. A sigh escaped his lips, and tension he didn’t even realize he was holding onto slipped off his shoulders and spine. Her arms wrapped around his middle, fingers interlocking as her body melted into his.

“Hermosa,” he cooed, “did I wake you? You looked so peaceful.”

“No, no, Javi, you didn’t,” her voice was smooth as honey, though with a hint of sleep still clinging on. He could listen to her for the rest of his life and never get tired of the sound of her voice. “Although I can’t say it wasn’t your cooking. It smells so good I just had to come investigate.”

He turned in her arms, and leaned down to kiss her. “You’re too kind to me, you know.”

She smiled up at him, biting her lip. “Speaking of investigating, how did the meeting go?”

Before he left he warned her that he was probably going to be punished for working with Los Pepes. They hadn’t given him much information, so he assumed it was a meeting about his lack of professionalism. He wasn’t expecting what they offered instead.

“Before we discuss that, I have a little something for you.” He nodded toward the table where a brown envelope sat.

She quirked an eyebrow at him and wandered over, taking a seat before inspecting the envelope. There wasn’t any writing on it, so it was impossible to know what would be inside, but his heart sped up anyway.

“Should I be worried?”

He let out a nervous chuckle and sat down at the table next to her. “Listen, the last few weeks I’ve been working on getting this for you, and there’s no pressure. I just got it so you do have the option if you ever want it.”

Her brow was furrowed in both confusion and concentration as she opened up the flap, and slid the papers out.

“Divorce papers?” Her eyebrows ticked up in surprise, but she didn’t look upset.

Javi nodded. “I wanted you to have the choice. He won’t find you, I made sure to put a system in place so he will not find you, he will never know where you are. As far as he’s concerned you’re in witness protection.”

She read through the documents, taking in all the information. When she looked back up her eyes were glassy.

“Oh, (Y/N), I’m sorry. I should’ve asked first-“

“No, Javi, thank you.” She chewed her lip, but a smile still tried to break through.

Suddenly she reached over to the pen that was sitting between them and looked at where she needed to sign. Once she was done she placed the papers back in the envelope and threw it onto the table, sitting back and sighing.

“It’s done.” She smiled at the envelope, then at Javi. “I’m done. Thank you, Javi. It’ll take a few days, I think, for it to settle, but you have no idea what this means to me.”

He smiled back and reached across the table to hold her hands in his. “You’re so strong, baby. I’m so proud of you.”

“Says you.” Her smile turned into a full grin. “Tell me about your meeting! You look like you’re in a good mood so it couldn’t have been that bad.”

He stood and walked to the cupboard, grabbing a glass for some water. “I could never be in a bad mood around you.”

“True, I’m just too charming.” She laughed and stood up, leaning against the counter while he sipped at his glass. “Come on, Javi, tell me.”

He nodded, placing his glass in the sink and turning to face her. She looked so sweet, he felt that overwhelming warmth spread through his body again.

“They want me to go back to Colombia, to take down the Cali cartel.”

She looked shocked, but didn’t say anything.

“I told them I would. They need to be taken down. I want to be part of that, to right everything I did wrong with Escobar.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

She reached across the space between them so they could be connected again. He felt grounded as her warm affection spread through his fingertips.

“You’re allowed to say no to this. There is no pressure at all.” He rubbed the back of her hands with his thumbs. “I don’t want you to feel you have to do this.”

Her eyes held him, cradled him. He thanked the heavens above for her patience every day.

“How would you feel about going on another adventure with me?”

The words hung between them, Javi felt his heart lurch into the empty air. Ready to break if she didn’t catch him.

She smiled. “I’m in.”

———

Taglist: @sullyosully @ashleymsnodgrass

[dragonmasterhiccup]

“Danger’s never scared me.” She snorts. “I laugh in the face of danger. Bring it.”

As he talks about spending time with her, the girl smiles, bringing her forehead to his and nuzzling him a bit. “Yep. You and me.”

Melodía was glad that Hiccup seemed to be getting some well deserved rest while she made lunch, glancing over occasionally to check on him, blessing his sneezes.

When Toothless reacts to the onion, she looks at him sympathetically, petting his head and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “You too, huh?”

The princess smiles at the dragon as he fuels the fire for her, going over to him and giving him a kiss on the snout. “Thank you, Toothless.”

A bright smile graces his fiancé’s face as he realizes what she’s made for him. “Yep! I asked him for the recipe before he left.”

“You’re welcome, love. There’s plenty more if you want seconds.” She grins.

Seeing that he enjoys what she made, she kisses his head. “I’m so glad, Hiccup. That’s all I could want.”

After ladling herself some stew (and a tiny bit for Toothless and Percy) she sits on the floor next to his chair and leans her head against his right leg as she eats, sitting with her legs crossed.

"You do, huh?" He grinned playfully. "That's good, because the future Chieftess of Berk ought to brave...thankfully, you are well-versed in that area."

He chuckled lightly, though he quickly had to turn away to cough into his elbow. "Sorry about that..."

Toothless peeked up at her, giving a sad, small nod and warbled. The Night Fury was indeed unhappy with the way that vegetable affected him.

Based on what he heard, Hiccup guessed that she might be making a soup or a stew of some kind, but his sense of smell was suppressed, so that skewed his ability to figure it out further. Besides, she'd said it was a surprise, so he didn't want to ruin that.

"You did? And--and he wrote it down, or, or did he tell it to you?" Hiccup always assumed Stoick kept the recipe a secret, and never thought to actually ask his father for it. It's a good thing Melodía had, otherwise Stoick may never have put it down on paper.

"I believe it. Dad always makes a ton, even though there were only two of us." Taking another bite, he replied, "Thanks! I just might take you up on that."

He stopped eating for a moment, glancing down at Melodía, confused. "What are you doing on the floor?" Placing his bowl on the table, he pulled a nearby chair to his side. "After all that work you put in, I--ahchoo!" Sniffling, he continued, "Sorry, uh, what was I saying? Oh, you can't just sit on the floor, especially after cooking and shopping... Please, come up here. Once we're finished, we can sit together on the wooden couch in the living room."