#the implications of that are just chefs kiss

[diamondcitydarlin]

nandor looking for the store in the mall that is both named after and strictly catered to Guillermo's interest in gifts took me the FUCK out that line had absolutely no right to be as adorable as it was

[darkmuffinstudios]

I love hole dwelling a normal amount

[carcharadroid]

nergigante was my favorite gen 5 flagship throughout all of world and iceborne and then rise and sunbreak as well

...buuuut then primordial malzeno happened and the implications for the ecology/lore of that monster shot him straight to the top. sorry nergi you had a good run

[pathologicalreid]

milk and cookies | s.r.

in which you and Spencer try to bake gingerbread cookies with your daughter, the operative word being "try"

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: toddler tantrums, cookies, presents, christmas, talks about having another baby, it's not explicit but this is technically jareau!reader word count: 1.02k a/n: i put off doing my own christmas baking to write this so here we all are!! i hope you enjoy it!! now, i have pie to make and gifts to wrap!

In hindsight, you should’ve called it off the moment the bag of flour fell on the floor, but Mila had asked for gingerbread men. The last thing you were going to do was disappoint your daughter this close to Christmas.

You weren’t entirely sure she was going to like the taste of the cookies, but she hadn’t stopped asking about them since she saw them in one of her cartoons. At the very least, she’d enjoy decorating them, but you’d likely have to make some regular sugar cookies after this batch was done. Spencer was a fairly impressive chef, but he didn’t show the same aptitude when it came to baking, leaving you to take the lead.

Your focus on the baking and Spencer’s focus on you had left Mila unattended for just a moment too long, which led to the all-purpose flour on the ground. You assured Mila that it was fine while Spencer got the broom and dustpan. “We’ll still have enough, honey,” you consoled her, wiping away tears as quickly as they fell.

She reached out her arms, and with tears in her eyes and a pout on her face, you couldn’t deny her comfort as you picked her up from her stool and let her wipe her eyes on your sweater. “Cookie,” she whimpered softly, looking sadly at the empty countertop while Spencer rid the dustpan of flour. “Daddy, cookie,” she said mournfully, the kind of misery that could only be depicted by an almost three-year-old imagining a world without cookies.

“I know, princess. We’ll get you your cookies,” he told her, putting the broom back in the closet and rounding the counter to kiss her cheeks. The two of you had debated whether or not it would be okay to purchase a tin of gingerbread men, but a previous agreement to give your daughter nothing but the best holiday experiences led you to this point.

It certainly didn’t help that she was now old enough to understand what Christmas meant: presents and treats.

After her first year of life, you’d needed to put the kibosh on random gift-giving, particularly from Garcia. Though you still gratefully accepted Rosemary’s hand-me-downs from Matt and Kristy, Christmas and her birthday were the only times Mila was allowed to be spoiled. Of course, you and Spencer were more than willing to spoil her year-round.

The three of you resumed working through the dough, falling a bit short on the flour, but Spencer assured you it would be just fine. “What if they don’t turn out?” You asked, letting Spencer wrap his arms around your waist from behind as the two of you watched Mila twirling in her dress in the light emanating from the Christmas tree.

“Then you’ll insist on going back to the store to get the right ingredients,” Spencer whispered, swaying gently to the sound of the holiday music, a record gifted to you by Rossi when he insisted that you needed to raise Amelia with “real” music.

You hummed, “And how do you know that?”

“Because I know you,” Spencer reminded you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Do you think she’ll be okay knowing we didn’t get everything on her list?”

Your face warmed as you recognized the implication, “I think she was influenced into adding that to the list.” Turning around, Spencer kept his eyes on Mila while you looked up at him. Penelope had acted as the scribe for your daughter’s Christmas list. Naturally, the words ‘brother or sister’ were scrawled on the bottom of the list in glittery gel pen.

Spencer’s hands squeezed your waist gently, “Maybe next year?”

Before you had a chance to respond, a small voice rang out from the living room, “Mommy!”

You spun around, watching your toddler run to you, her two braids bounced on her shoulders as she skidded to a stop. “What is it, sweetheart?”

A shy smile spread on her face, putting her arms behind her back as she prepared herself to ask for something, “Peek?” She asked, pointing at the oven, which currently had your first batch of gingerbread women in it.

Nodding, you leaned over and turned on the oven light, letting your toddler gaze into the oven, startling you when she screamed at the sight of them.

Instinctively, Spencer reached down and scooped her off of the floor, resting her on his hip while you opened the oven to see the misshapen cookies. “Oh,” you said, the dough had spread out on the sheet, creating one slab of what was a sorry excuse for a cookie, “it’s okay, Mila.”

There must’ve been even less flour than you thought, and your daughter wasn’t standing for it, “They’re ugly!” Her exclamation took you by surprise, no more than the tears currently streaming down her face did. Gingerbread cookies were obviously not a welcome treat in your household, this is the second meltdown they’ve caused.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” you said, setting the cookie sheet on the range and setting a comforting hand on her back. You watched as she wiped her tears on Spencer’s shirt, “It’s okay, they’re just a little deformed.”

She turned back like she had an answer for you, but as soon as her eyes caught on the cookies, her face crumpled again. Somehow, your lack of flour had managed to completely devastate your two-year-old, and it was putting a pit in your chest. Spencer walked her into the living room, making sure the gingerbread blob was out of sight.

“Hey,” you whispered to her, tickling her side gently, “How about we make sugar cookies instead? Mommy’s really good at sugar cookies.”

Apprehensively, she nodded, balling up her tiny fists and rubbing at her eyes before reaching out for you. She rested her head on your chest, her eyes starting to shut as you swayed, “Ugly cookies,” she whispered.

What she couldn’t see was the smile that you and Spencer exchanged, holding in your laughter. While you understood that she was expressing her emotions the only way she knew, you couldn’t help but be amused at the phrase “ugly cookies.”

[kinardsboy]

This has been sitting on my mind a lot lately but it seems extra relevant now with the way Tommy and by extension Lou has been criticized for acting “too gay” in ep 5. And while yes, I will agree Tommy acted slightly different in ep 5, it has absolutely everything to do with Lou’s incredible acting choices to play Tommy differently when he is around people he deems as “safe” which is much better explained in this amazing post here <-

All these complains are doing is just yet again exposing buddies as homophobes who are, at the end of the day. Uncomfortable with real queerness being shown infront of them. Of course we already knew this with how they react to Buck and Tommy kissing and god forbid flirting especially if it has sexual implications like the daddy kink scene.

They can’t possibly fathom their precious uwu baby Buck would be sexual with another man so they spin and twist it however they can to make it out to be, “NO! You see! Tommy started the flirting! Tommy is just an insatiable horny gay man! He only wants sex! Like most of them do!”

Which is again spewing homophobic rhetoric, who wouldve guessed thats what they immediately turn to?

I now have something probably controversial to say but oh well, im going to say it anyway.

A good many of these shippers would be deeply uncomfortable with Buddie actually becoming canon, because they would be nothing like their fanfic. They don’t want to see two men in a relationship, they want to see Eddie in a relationship with the character they project themselves onto.

There are so many examples of this but perhaps the biggest being the way Buck is made out to be the “woman” in the relationship and especially how he is made to be the “mom”

Buck and Tommy’s relationship 1st does not have any children involved so there are no gendered roles to be assigned (even though if there was.. theyd just both be a dad), they are both beefy and the same height, which is what people usually use to decide “top” and “bottom” but again since there is little physical difference between them, they cannot do this, which only adds to their uncomfortableness.

Furthermore, I would go as far to say that Buddie shippers dont actually like Buck.

A while back a shipper posted this analysis of Buddie, that essentially reduces Buck to a dog. A pet. Only to be let out of the bedroom to cook and take care of Chris, otherwise he’s meant only for Eddie’s pleasure.

Which, disgusting. But the thing that stood out most to me was how Tommy was criticized for

letting Buck be himself. For accepting and loving him flaws and all. For not trying to change anything, or “train” the bad out of him

While Eddie was the “trainer” in that scenario, that had to train the bad out of Buck in order for him to be acceptable.

And thats the funny thing isnt it? Buddie shippers have to completely warp and destroy Buck’s character to make him fit their mold of perfect partner for Eddie. They make him out to be this helpless person who can’t even tell Tommy he doesnt want to be called Evan, that needs rescuing from Tommy, that is a “mother figure” to Chris, that his “dream role” would be live in chef and maid for the diaz family..

When none of that is Buck.

Buck is a smart, independent and strong man. He has worked tirelessly on himself to know who he is and what he wants, which right now? Is with Tommy.

Bringing it back to my main point, their complaints of Tommy being more gay and Bucktommy intimacy ultimately just boil down to homophobia plain and simple, seeing real queer representation and not representation that they can specifically twist and cater to themselves through fic, headcanons or gifs, makes them uncomfortable

(could this be why so many of them ignore shows with canon m/m ships for favor of shows with fanon ones that will never actually happen? So they can make these demands for representation then shit on it as soon as they get it because its not fanfic? Its not their fetish specifically catered to them? It actually represents real life queer men who they don’t actually like?)

[amischiefofmuses]

There's a sense of familiarity in the way the stranger smiles, something Morior mentally likens to someone greeting an old dear friend they have not seen in eons and it makes his own expression soften a touch. Perhaps he'd considered them truly gone given how they hide, glamoured in the world of Humans or naught but ghost stories in their own woods - all but tales for men to tell eachother and scare their children to behave lest they be spirited away. A double-edged sword, clearly, given that the very same protection could be keeping those like Emmanuel oblivious to their presences. A good-natured laugh rumbles in his chest at the small quip about his greeting, he's thankful it hasn't been taken as an insult at the very least. Although he is a little caught off-guard by the praise for his work and there's a falter there in his expression as he does so, barely perceptible but present nonetheless. A lot of awful things had to happen for this to be the place of peace it is now, certainly not anything worthy of honoring. It's duty, he has the ability to protect them and he shall - as the Fae were the only ones to welcome him as he is. Not one of them, not truly, but familiar enough to live among their kind. There are but tales to explain his existence - a god, a monster, merely a particularly powerful Fae, even death himself. He himself knows not which is true and has long since abandoned trying to seek out answers. -- ❝There is no need for that at all. All those that may not be welcome or understood by Humanity are welcome here. Yourself included. I merely keep watch these days, it takes little to scare off a stray Human poking their nose in where they shouldn't.❞ Though despite his words, there's no hiding the way his body stills in surprise at the answer he receives to his inquiries. An angel? In his long existence he has never met such a being and that is a novelty in itself, even more so when considering the implications of his existence. It's a turbulent thing, realising some 'higher power' may have presided over all the events he has witnessed in his long life. For a moment he's silent, gaze fixed on Emmanuel like he's shot him before he catches himself. It is not this Angel's doing, he cannot blame him. His jaw tenses as though working around his words before he speaks, his smile a little tighter. He can't afford to let his emotions get the best of him. -- ❝Apologies for my reaction, Emmanuel. I hadn't realised such a thing could exist, it's quite the surprise that in all my years I'm still faced with something entirely unfamiliar. It has been a while. That doesn't make my actions acceptable, however. Please forgive me.❞ Despite the luring warmth, it's discomforting and he feels guilt for such a reaction. Afterall, has he not had the same reaction from others? -- ❝Come, I will show you to where the festivities shall be taking place. I'm sure many of the circle would indeed appreciate your kindness and warmth, if you are intending on staying for the night, that is.❞

Oh. Fae. He lets go of the other’s hand, yet still allows himself to recall the touch. There is something precious in it. Fae. His smile blossoms wider at the thought; for it’s been quite a while since he was in their company – a part of him had at times worried they’d gone from Earth entirely, leaving place for merely the stories. But perhaps, as ever, he’d allowed himself to blend with the humans too closely, and disregard that which the earth itself hummed below everything. He’s embarrassed now, if only ever so slightly, for ever giving ear to even the consideration that this land could be anything but a sanctuary of life. Aren’t all forests, no matter if they bow to a devil or a god? If anything, this moment is but another reminder that he too does need the exercise in humility once in a while, and the way he looks down, bows his head, the way his cheeks burn, they all show he has been humbled quite enough.

„It is a true and welcome pleasure to be so wrong, my friend,“ he speaks and his voice barely seems to cut through the air, as if his lips themselves were learning to take the environment in, in its truth. „No wonder you’ve come to greet me,“ the way his eyes glint it is clear enough that he is well aware greeting may have not been the other’s intention at the start, „– you do well, for those seeking shelter here, I can tell. Thank you. For… that and for believing me worthy, for allowing me this passage, Morior.“ There is effortless honor to the way he speaks the name. No pedestals, no expectations, no reputation. A living entity acknowledging the liveliness of another.

Deep brown eyes, kind and old, do travel from the other and over the trees, from their tips reaching for the sky to the striped horizon they make of the world. „Most call me Emmanuel,“ he says and the tinge of amusement suggests that the name, as potent as it is, hardly feels like it really contains the universal truth of himself. Perhaps there is pride to it, and pride is a sin – but of all angels, his name feels like an open palm more than anything. A gesture, nothing more. A gesture that can be performed, voicelessly.

He hesitates to speak quite so bluntly, but he decides that his host deserves honesty since he made it a point to ask. „All is but glamour when ones not of this world wish to walk it, one way or another. – I am an angel of the Lord, an extended hand of the divine, though – currently I mostly make my own way, doing good. Trying to bring some light and tenderness to those that may have been forgotten or – fell on some low times. Perhaps some of that could be appreciated, even in your circle. Humans are not the only creatures of this world, after all.“

[velvees-archive]

Some post-SOJ DLC case thoughts about Edgeworth, his opinion on marriage, and by extension, love.

…and how, at the very center of this discussion is one Phoenix Wright.

Contains spoilers from 3-5, 6-5 and 6-DLC

As if the subtext wasn’t enough.

I wanted to share some thoughts about the DLC case and Edgeworth's insistence on remaining unwed, which, from what I've seen, is a commonly employed gotcha moment against NaruMitsu (because all relationships must end in marriage, right? /lh). Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really mind. I just…didn’t find the dialogue exchange very damning.

Coming off 6-5, where Edgeworth says this,

I saw the DLC as an extension of Edgeworth's sentimentality, this time directed at Phoenix’s romantic prospects.

To make my stance clear, I don’t think Edgeworth is blind to romantic overtures; he just doesn’t care about them very much. As in, Edgeworth is largely unaffected by and uninterested in matters of the heart (with a concession that he is obtuse when it comes to people expressing interest in him, unless they're Wendy Oldbag over the top about it). But even if you feel he's terrible at sensing romantic tension, my argument still stands. Edgeworth doesn’t care about romance, and we never really see him prying into anyone’s romantic relationships…

…with the exception to this being Phoenix Wright’s.

From Bridge to the Turnabout:

Sorry for the janky screenshots. I didn't didn't take 3-5 pics on my Switch so I had to search for YouTube clips. Let the record show I actually really enjoy Feenris PLUS I love angst, so this interaction was…chef’s kiss.

Assuming Edgeworth doesn't care about romance but he can understand romantic signaling, this is already pretty condemning. Why are you poking around Phoenix's business if you're so uninterested in love? Surely, there are bigger fish to fry, like investigating the Inner Temple Garden because the clues found could be vital to catching the victim's murderer?

Assuming Edgeworth sucks at detecting any romantic undertones, the implications are even worse. You're telling me the guy who doesn't know the first thing about romance somehow clocked Phoenix and Iris's chemistry this quickly? How? For what reason were you able to catch it? How attuned are you to Phoenix's personal affairs?

Now, shifting back to the DLC case, we have this lovely interaction when you show Miles the wedding chapel pamphlet:

Something to note with Phoenix’s “W-Wait. You’re not thinking about finally settling down and getting married, are you?” is that the screen flashes and we hear the damage sound after the “W-Wait."

Once again, Miles inquires about Phoenix's love life, this time after Phoenix asks about his. I've analyzed my fair share of Miles Edgeworth dialogue, and I don't think he pingpongs questions just to make conversation (see: “Say something, Wright. I’m not good at small talk.”). This leads me to believe he was genuinely curious and (subtly) trying to fish for information. And why would that be the case?

My overarching point is this: Edgeworth isn’t as obtuse about romance as everyone makes him out to be (both in-universe and from a fandom perspective), which makes his mentioning marriage plans around Phoenix even more suspicious. The way the scene reads to me is that Edgeworth, in Phoenix’s company and swept away by the intimate atmosphere, lets his interest in Phoenix Wright slip through the cracks once Phoenix shows him the pamphlet. It's sentimental of him and it surfaces—once again—while he's investigating a case. At risk of sounding repetitive, there are bigger fish to fry.

It'd be less suspicious if Phoenix had similar conversations with other cast members he shows the pamphlet to, but it never gets to be this personal, even when he presents it to Maya, his best friend.

Good news if you feel otherwise about my “Edgeworth isn’t that obtuse” headcanon though, because should you believe he is actually just that clueless, you now have to contend with this:

If Miles can’t pick up on all things love, why is he so attuned to Wright’s (and to my knowledge, only Wright’s) romantic prospects in particular?

So yeah. Checkmate, I guess. Edgeworth might not be interested in marriage or love, but he’s definitely interested in Phoenix’s partners, or lack thereof. Take that how you will.

[sixerstanley]

hey. you got any good stancest fic recs? 👀 i trust your opinion over any other stancest blog rn

!!!!!!

Omg, that is so so sweet????? I'm not sure what I did to earn that trust, but thank you!!!

Okay, here are some of my favs, but I'm still making my way through the tag!!

What We Used To Be - By fractured_hourglass (M)

Here's one of the fics I first read when I got into stancest, it broke into my home and tore my heart apart with its angst but it was so GOOD???? SO fucking good, great angst, spectacular writing and characterization. It takes place between stanchurian candidate and last mabelcorn, so don't expect a happy ending in the first part, BUT it's insanely good. The summary is that Stan and Ford are trying to learn to live together again, but they keep fighting, and implications that they were something more...makes everything worse. And when Jimmy Snakes, an old fling of Stan's is back in town, Ford gets more and more irritable until shit hits the fan. There is also a part 2 now that wraps everything up nicely!

Any Way You Want It - By Pandame (E)

An untraditional A/B/O fic that is deliciously hot. Ford comes out of the portal...different.

Miss Missing You - By theywerefireworks (E)

A fic post weirdmageddon where Ford tries to make Stan remember their shared memories together--even if they aren't all that pretty.

Oral Communication - by fishingboatblues (E)

Stan starts leaving notes in code, leaving Ford to decipher them.

Sweet Dreams and Glacier's Rock - by Frondere (E)

The twins take a trip, and there's only one bed 👀

everything you feel is good - by businessboyjared (E)

A delightful pwp where Ford walks in on Stan watching porn. What happens next will shock you.

TV Remotes and Ice-Cream - by wubdub_redux (G)

A really sweet fluffy fic about Stan being awkward about his feelings, but luckily Ford is really dense.

And last, but CERTAINLY not least, a fic I'm still reading right now and it's in progress but is SO good:

many dreams come true, and some have silver linings - by GoodbyeBabylon (E)

This fic is just. Chefs kiss. It's so well done. It's the pining Stancest fic I have yearned for, where they are OLD and PINING and STILL have trouble communicating. It's so so good guys. Highly recommend.

And there you have it!! There are probably some I'm forgetting, and like I said I'm still going through the tag, but please enjoy! :D

[etheraltides]

Chef Kisses

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: a harmless attempt of cooking pizza with Rafe turns messy

Warning(s): light swearing and some mild suggestive content.

A/N: Feedback is always welcome :) I love to know your thoughts.

The late afternoon sun streamed through the kitchen window, casting golden streaks on the countertops as you moved about the space, the playlist humming softly in the background. Rafe leaned against the counter, his usual cocky smirk playing at his lips, casually tossing a piece of mozzarella into his mouth as he watched you.

“Are you even gonna help, or just eat all the toppings before they make it to the pizza?” you teased, glancing over your shoulder.

His blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “Hey, I’m quality control. Someone’s gotta make sure this cheese is safe.”

You rolled your eyes, tossing a ball of dough onto the counter in front of him. “Alright, Mr. Quality Control, make yourself useful and knead this.”

He smirked, leaning closer to you. “I don’t hear you complaining when I taste-test you.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you shoved him away with a laugh. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you’re obsessed with me.” he shot back, giving you a wink.

He sighed dramatically but stepped forward, cracking his knuckles like he was preparing for battle. You watched him as he rolled up the sleeves of his Henley, his tanned forearms flexing in a way that distracted you for longer than you’d admit.

He caught you staring and smirked. “Enjoying the view, babe?”

You scoffed, grabbing a handful of flour and flicking it at him. The powder dusted his shirt, and he froze, his expression shifting to playful menace.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that…” he warned, swiping flour off his chest before lunging toward you.

You squealed, ducking away, but Rafe was too fast. His arms wrapped around your waist, spinning you as he grabbed a handful of flour and smeared it across your cheek. The two of you dissolved into laughter, your attempts to wrestle free only making the mess worse.

“Okay, okay! Truce!” you gasped between giggles, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

Rafe held up his hands, flour-covered palms raised in surrender. “Alright, truce.” But just as you started to relax, he slapped your ass with one of those same floury hands.

“Rafe!” you yelped, turning to glare at him.

His grin was utterly unapologetic. “Couldn’t resist, doll.” he said with a wink.

You tried to look annoyed, but the way he was grinning at you made it impossible. Instead, you grabbed his face, dragging him into a kiss.

It started slow, your lips moving softly against his as the world around you faded away. But then Rafe’s hands slid to your hips, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepened. His lips were warm and insistent, his breath mingling with yours as your fingers tangled in his hair.

When you finally pulled back, your chest was heaving, and Rafe was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

When you finally pulled back, your chest was heaving, and Rafe was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered and it never faltered to make you blush.

“Damn.” he murmured, his voice low and rough.

You bit your lip, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach. “We still have a pizza to make,” you said, stepping back and turning your attention to the dough.

Rafe groaned dramatically but moved to the counter, grabbing the ball of dough you’d prepared earlier. “Fine, but you owe me later.” he said, his tone dripping with implication.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

The two of you eventually managed to focus – sort of. You worked on rolling out the dough while Rafe prepped the toppings, sneaking bites of pepperoni when he thought you weren’t looking.

“You’re like a child.” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling.

Rafe leaned down next to you, his face far too close for concentration. “A child who can kiss like that? Don’t think so.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you tried to spread sauce across the dough. “Just try not to eat everything before we even get this in the oven.”

The moment was light and warm, and the two of you fell into an easy rhythm of teasing and working. It was one of the things you loved about being with Rafe – how he could make even the simplest, most mundane activities feel fun and alive.

You were just finishing arranging the toppings when you realized you were missing the grated Parmesan since Rafe had managed to eat most of it before you could stop him.

“Can you grab the Parmesan from the cabinet?” you asked, gesturing toward the upper shelf.

Rafe arched an eyebrow, glancing up at the tall cabinet. “The one that’s way too high for you?”

“Yes, thank you for pointing out my limited reach. Now be a good boyfriend and grab it.” you shot back, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably because of his grin.

Rafe walked over, making a show of stretching lazily before reaching up to open the cabinet. His shirt rode up with the motion, exposing a sliver of his toned stomach and the waistband of his underwear.

Red.

Your eyes locked onto the flash of crimson, your breath catching in your throat as an unexpected wave of heat coursed through you. The way the waistband dipped slightly, hinting at the definition of his hips… it was unfair how attractive he was without even trying.

“Find something you like?” Rafe’s voice snapped you out of your trance.

Your cheeks flamed as you realized you’d been caught staring. He smirked, holding the Parmesan in one hand while resting his other casually on the edge of the cabinet.

“You’re such a tease, little shit.” you muttered, snatching the cheese out of his hand and turning away.

“Me?” Rafe said, feigning innocence. He moved closer, his chest brushing against your back. “You’re the one checking me out like I’m dessert.”

You tried to focus on sprinkling the Parmesan, but Rafe’s hands settled on your hips, his fingers brushing just below the hem of your shirt.

“Rafe…” you said, your voice a little breathier than you intended. You couldn’t exactly tell if it was a warning or a plea.

“Hmm?” His lips brushed against your ear, and you felt him grin against your skin.

You turned to face him, intending to tell him to knock it off, but the words died on your lips when you met his gaze. His blue eyes were dark with something that sent shivers down your spine, and suddenly, the kitchen felt a lot smaller.

Your cheeks burned, and you snatched the cheese from him, spinning away. “You’re insufferable.” you muttered, trying to focus on the task at hand.

Rafe didn’t back off. Instead, he stepped closer, his chest brushing against your back as his hands settled on your hips.

“Am I?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

You swallowed hard, your resolve wavering as his fingers traced lazy patterns on your sides. “We need to finish the pizza, baby.” you said, though your voice was shaky.

“Hmm. The pizza can wait” Rafe replied, turning you to face him. His blue eyes were dark, his gaze locked onto yours as he leaned in.

The kiss was slow at first, a teasing exploration that left you breathless. But then Rafe’s hands slid under your shirt, his palms warm against your skin, and the kiss deepened.

“Rafe.” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck.

You couldn’t think of a coherent response, too caught up in the way he was making you feel. His teeth grazed your skin, and you gasped, your hands tightening in his hair.

His grip on your hips was firm, pulling you closer as he pressed you against the counter. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension building between you like a live wire.

But just as things were about to spiral out of control, the smell of something burning broke through the haze.

“The pizza!” you exclaimed, shoving him away and rushing to the oven.

Rafe groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You’re kidding me.” he muttered.

You pulled the pizza out, laughing at the slightly charred edges. “This is what happens when you distract me.”

“Me? You’re the one who—”

“You’re not winning this argument.” you interrupted, cutting him off as you grabbed plates.

He grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue further, taking a seat at the counter as you served up the pizza.

Despite the burnt edges, the pizza tasted surprisingly good. The two of you ate in companionable silence, stealing bites from each other’s plates and laughing about the chaos of the afternoon.

As you finished the last slice, Rafe leaned over, wiping a smudge of sauce off your cheek with his thumb.

“You’re hot when you’re bossy, y’know?” he said, his voice soft.

“And you’re cute when you’re not ruining my kitchen.” you shot back, though your tone was more fond than annoyed.

Rafe smirked, leaning closer. “I’ll ruin your kitchen anytime, babe” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours. There was a small smirk in the corner of his lips that told you he wasn’t exactly talking about the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips as he pulled you into another kiss, the taste of marinara and mischief lingering between you.

And in that moment, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. You knew you wanted many more nights like this, with him.

[simonsoys]

I realize how frustrating bad fanon takes on the Undertale characters have always been, having been a fan since the game came out. I get it, I've felt it too.

But I also kind of feel bad because it takes so much effort to dig through all the dialogue. There's SO MUCH of it.

Especially for fan works being made between 2015 - 2018 because there was still new stuff being brought to light constantly that any normal single playthrough or "watched one playthrough on YT" wouldn't show you. There wasn't even a general consensus on Chara's role in the story for the first several years.

I feel like everyone goes through the "UT characters are funny and endearing!" >> "Wait, there's a lot of mysterious lore and implications here" >> "Actually, there's lore but it's still mostly funny" phases, but not everyone's at the same point in the ride.

I guess, I feel like as obsessed as I am in understanding the characters fully, I still think it's OK not to get them 100% right. People have been asking me questions about the game for 8 years like I'm an authority on the subject and I still don't have it all right.

(Honestly I think AUs that are totally and intentionally off base are OK too. Characters are toys, play how you want. Plz still tag them as their own thing though lol i beg you)

No purpose for this monologue, just to say writing the UT/DR characters in the perfect chef's-kiss sweet spot is actually really hard and don't feel too bad if you don't get it right lol

It's OK not to have Tolkien-scholar levels of knowledge on UT/DR, I still want to read your fanfics and see your art.

[cruyuu]

The proof of sukuita's soul resonance and their oneness. Yuuji is shown without two fingers and cannot salvage them, considering how the person responsible for him losing those fingers (the missing piece) is dead and gone.

Fitting, no?

Let's talk about it.

Yuuji lost both his ring and pinky finger.

The pinky one (representing promises– pinky swear) was torn by Sukuna and used to overtake Megumi, symbolically representing Yuuji's failure to keep his promise- keep Megumi away from Sukuna and, in general, protect Megumi. In the beginning, Yuuji was shown as someone incapable of defending and keeping people alive despite the fact that he very much wished to. You could say Sukuna reminded him of that by taking over the very person that saved his life in the first place by postponing his execution.

The pinky remained in Megumi (because that's how Sukuna got to Megumi) until Yuuji tore it away- tore Sukuna away- and then spoke to him, leading to Blobkuna and Sukuna's passing. Of course, knowing Gege's love for everything sukuita, they fittingly made Sukuna the one to rip that finger away to be in someone else and conveniently not return it by instead choosing to die.

Mind you, the reason why this happened was because Yuuji didn't place a condition in the Binding Vow (the one he doesn't nor will ever even remember making) that he cannot be hurt when Sukuna has control which is, again, an insane thing because it implies he trusts him not to cause harm to himself or truly doesn't care what happens to him after he's "dead to the world" (kinda like Sukuna who doesn't care what happens to his body after his death).

So that's for the pinky. Yuuji also never got the ring finger back.

Now, Sukuna believed that his finger was eaten by Rika, but that wasn't the case. It was revealed to us that the finger Rika ate was Yuuji's, and according to Yuta, anything she eats cannot be salvaged by RCT. It cannot be healed and I'm crazy over the symbolism of Yuuji losing his ring finger because of the general, well-known meaning of the ring finger. He gave up that finger because of Sukuna (giving up his love in order for his downfall) and, conveniently, we're shown a single finger that remains of Sukuna. I also truly do wonder why the location of Sukuna's finger (for some reason) was fitting with the location of the music video for that one song.

Yuuji never got back the ring finger in form of a person who he had also asked (twice) to return. Who he could live with no matter what he had done. Who he would accept no matter what. Who he thinks back on fondly while looking at his lost fingers. He gave up that finger for him and that one finger (one person) remains in the Stevenson shed- right where he found him.

Through symbolism, the implications are insane because love and commitment (the ring finger) remains with Sukuna.

If you want more insanity, well... Remember what I said about the pinky? That it was how (basically) Yuuji lost Sukuna? Well, Sukuna didn't return to Yuuji (no matter if Yuuji wanted him to) and hence Yuuji couldn't truly get that finger back.

The fact is that Yuuji was supposed to be the only vessel (specifically made for him, so much so that he inherits his techniques and cursed energy like come on, you couldn't get more perfect than that, he even has his face!) for Sukuna and one made intently for the purpose of his true return and yet... Sukuna chose another one and reincarnated via that one. Lost because of that very choice.

So it's basically the fact that these two were practically perfectly made for each other (spelled out by the story), but unlike their mirrors (Yuta/Rika, Hana/Angel), they never acknowledged it nor chose to accept one another.

Yuuji only accepts Sukuna when it's over, during 268. Fittingly, Sukuna "accepts" Yuuji in the afterlife and to Mahito's face (which is hilarious because Yuuji hated Mahito's guts and Sukuna *of all curses* telling him off too was just chef's kiss).

If you think about it, if Sukuna ever reincarnates (and it's highly probable because of how the door to the shed is open, quite literally open for return), perhaps he'd stumble upon that finger in the Stevenson shed and that is so awfully romantic to me. Considering the placement of the finger being near Yuuji's high school, you could also say that's Yuuji leaving a clue for Sukuna to find him, should he ever reincarnate in this lifetime while he's still alive. If he doesn't, well, at least it could serve as a reminder (to jog his memory if he doesn't remember).

Yuuji got his permanent reminder of Sukuna- right there on his left hand. Hell, he can't even get married because of him (wedding rings are worn on the left hand in Japan and I'm cackling because oh the implications lmfao).

[animasola86]

🏚️ BONUS: THE HOUSE

misc!monsters x f!reader 🔥 words: 2.7k

You were invited to a Halloween party in a mysterious house, promising a night full of surprises - which all came true, one way or another. Now it's the next morning, and you're going back to finish that chapter of your life once and for all.

WARNINGS: None? Fluff! Mystery! Some (sexual) implications and references to previous chapters/adventures. Shapeshifting. (READ ON AO3!)

A/N: This is a bonus chapter for my CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE story A NIGHT TO REMEMBER. This references chapters 1, 2 and 6, so it's best to have read those or even better the whole story to understand it. It's just a way to tie up some loose ends. Cameo by an infamous masked man. Spoiler: there's no actual smut here, but it's somehow referenced (come back soon for the smut bonus chapter!). 1 🔸 2 🔸 3 🔸 4 🔸 5 🔸 6

During breakfast (turns out the hairy man is not only a great lover but also a brilliant chef), you find yourself on Bear's lap, feeding and getting fed in a way you've never experienced before. It should be weird how fast you feel this comfortable with him. But it isn't. It's almost as if you've already accepted your new life.

If it wasn't for one thing. The absence of your purse and the remnants of your old life it entails.

“Can we go?” you ask quietly, wiping your index finger over his upper lip, teasing his mustache.

“You sure you left it there?” he responds, watching you closely, a little crease between his heavy eyebrows.

You shift on his lap. “Well, I can't fully remember, as you know,” you start, thinking back to your time at the party that brought you here (and ultimately into his arms). “But I think I left it in the bathroom. I had it when I entered the house, but if I still had it when I ran into you, you would have seen it it, right?”

He hums, nodding slightly as his eyes travel past you through the window. His hand lies heavy on your thigh, squeezing it gently. “I don't want you going back there, though...”

“I know,” you whisper, eyes wandering over his bearded face. “But I need it. As much as I just want to throw my old life away for you, I have to cut off some ties beforehand, and tell people where I am, or at least how I am. I hope nobody's worried yet...”

His hum turns into a low growl. You reach up and cup his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs over the corners of his tight lips. His dark eyes snap back to yours.

“I want to stay, I told you. I'm not going anywhere. But I have to get some stuff, too, you know? Like clothes? I only have this blouse and skirt with me. Unless you really just want to keep me in a cage, bound and gagged and naked...” you tease, raising an eyebrow.

“Tempting image,” he grunts, a chuckle escaping him. “But no, I want you to be comfortable here. And I guess clothes do their part, hm?”

“Yes, they do. I'll still wear your favorite cape whenever you want, don't worry,” you whisper, leaning closer until your nose brushes against his. “I do like red...”

He huffs a loud exhale, warm against your skin, before he tilts his head and presses his lips to yours for a short kiss. “By the way, whatever happened to your underwear, huh?” he mutters into you with a smirk.

You blush deeply, leaning back, your hands moving down to his shoulders. “Well, good question. Maybe I went commando in the first place?”

His hand comes up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “Hmm, I'm not sure I can believe that. You may be the adventurous type, or at least, you're open for a little fun, but no panties in late October? I bet your mother taught you better.”

You scoff, smirking back at him. “If I only did what she taught me, I wouldn't be sitting on the lap of a strange mythical creature, would I?”

He gives you a wink. “Little Red sure is known for leaving the beaten path, isn't she?” He watches you for a moment as you smile softly, before he throws his arms around you and hugs you tightly to his chest. “Fine, we'll go. Get that damn purse, you do whatever needs to be done, and then, as soon as the moon rises, you're in for a treat, missy,” he adds, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he holds you close.

You chuckle, snaking your arms around him as well. “Can't wait,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a moment.

Half an hour later, you walk up to the imposing house, Bear's hand tight around yours as he leads you through the garden. Everything looks so different during the day. It's eerily foggy, but the sun still tries to fight its way through the clouds. As you round the building to get to the front door, you realize just how old it looks. The paint is chipped, the wooden sidings aged and weathered and rotten in some places, the metal accents rusty and crooked, the whole structure looks as if it's holding up by sheer willpower (or by the magic that cursed it).

The windows are dark, there's an air of stillness around, and you wonder if anyone is even there to open the door. As you approach the steps leading up to the large entrance doors, Bear nudges you to stop. You turn to him, his tan face almost a little pale as he stares up at the big house. You mirror his concerns. He told you the house calls to the lost souls, trying to trap them with its original inhabitants. You may have found what you were looking for in the hairy man beside you, but what if that's not enough? What if the house won't let you go if you enter?

“It'll be fine,” you whisper, to ease your worries and the creases on Bear's forehead. He looks down at you, his brown eyes almost black. You reach up a hand to caress his cheek, trying to distract yourself with the scraping sound of his beard against your fingertips.

“Maybe you don't have to enter,” he growls quietly, putting his large hands protectively around your waist, pulling you closer. “Try not to tempt fate, okay?”

You lean up on your toes and press your lips to the corner of his mouth, holding his gaze. “It'll be fine,” you repeat. He sighs deeply, but then nods, reluctantly letting go of you as you slip out of his grip.

Giving him a smile, you slowly turn again and face the double doors. Your knock sounds loud through the quiet space. For a long moment, nothing happens. As you raise your hand again to rap your knuckles against the door, you suddenly hear footsteps. The creepy squeak of the door opening is almost comical.

A maid, a young woman, probably your age, in a neat uniform, looks at you, almost a little bewildered, confused, as if she hasn't expected anyone to just knock or even approach the house. “Yes?” she asks, staring at you.

“Uh, hi. I... I've been to the party last night and it seems I've forgotten my purse inside,” you reply hastily, shuffling from one foot to the other.

“Party?” the other woman whispers, frowning deeply, causing you to stare at her with your lips parting.

“Yes, party,” another voice suddenly sounds from behind her, and she is shoved to the side unceremoniously as a man steps next to her. “Silly Daisy, she seems to be a little forgetful today.”

You look up at the stranger, and something comes over you, like a cold wave of déjà-vu. He's tall, muscular, wears black pants and a tight black shirt, his large hands rest on the maid's shoulders for a moment, and you stare at them, following the pronounced veins up his arms. When you reach his face, the feeling is gone. You've never seen this man before, you're sure.

“Go be useful with the others,” he tells the servant girl, and she nods, blinking in confusion as he gives her a gentle push away from the door into the large lobby. You can see others shuffling behind him, probably cleaning up. “Excuse her, it's been a long night,” the man focuses back on you, and you still stare at him. His voice sounds strangely familiar, low, deep, but something's different. It sounds too clear.

“Uh, oh, no problem,” you mutter, furrowing your eyebrows as you look up at him. His eyes are so bright, blue or gray, almost icy in his pale angular face. A smirk plays around his lips.

“So you've lost your purse, huh?” he asks, crossing his strong arms over his chest.

“Yes!” you call out, glad to remember why you came here in the first place. “Have you seen it? It's, uh, this big,” you show him the dimensions with your hands, ”a red clutch, with a red leather strap.”

“Well, we do have a box of forgotten items right here,” he says, tilting his head to indicate to something behind him. Inside the house. “Come have a look.”

You freeze. Your first instinct is to turn around to look at Bear, but to your biggest surprise, you can't see him. Where did he go? Confusion washes over you as you look back at the strange man. Those arms... and hands... the voice. You can't shake the feeling that you know him somehow. When you meet his gaze, he smiles at you. It doesn't reach his eyes.

“Come on, we don't bite,” he says quietly, unfolding his arms to take a step back, giving you the potential space to walk through the door.

“I... I'd rather not... uh... I don't want to invade. You look busy. Can't you just show me the box? Or look for the purse?” you stammer, wringing your hands.

“I would be less busy if you would just come inside and take a look yourself,” he insists, raising an eyebrow.

Your heart sinks. How important is that purse anyway? Then again, why are you so afraid to enter? Surely they won't just abduct you. Your mind goes back to Bear, to his cabin, to the life he's promised you. And you want that, want to be with him, and you will be, if you just think hard enough so that no ancient magic can get its hooks into you. It'll be fine.

Inhaling deeply, you take another look behind you, hoping to see him somewhere. Maybe he isn't allowed near the house, so he waits somewhere behind a hedge or something. “Okay,” you whisper as you turn back to the man waiting for you to enter. “I'll be quick,” you add as you take the first step, your foot already crossing the threshold.

He steps aside, extending an arm to show you which direction that box must be. Your heart beats faster when you hear the door clicking shut behind you. Trying not to fuss about it, you keep walking until you find a large cardboard box on a little table near the pompous staircase leading up. You see various items. Phones, sunglasses, jewelry, scarves, and –

You freeze as your fingers brush against a large white mask. Suddenly another hand moves to grab it, veins and tendons working under tight skin as the man from the door picks up the costume. You gasp as he turns the mask between his long fingers. His icy eyes stare down at you, a smirk dancing around his lips.

“What a silly thing,” he says quietly. “What a lazy way to conceal oneself, hm?”

You blink as your mind reels with a strangely feeble memory. Your stomach tenses up, something hot gathering low in your body. Clearing your throat, you look away, focusing back on the box, your fingers pushing aside all kinds of things, until you finally see something red. Your purse. Clutching it eagerly, you pull it out and inspect it, sighing in relief when you find your wallet, your phone and all the other small things you brought with you.

“Everything in order?” the man beside you asks, still fingering the eerie mask.

“Yes,” you reply, taking a step back as you hug your purse to your chest. “Thanks. I... uh, I'll best be going now. Long way home,” you say, giving him a nervous smile.

He tilts his head, and between his fingers the mask does the same. A cold shiver crashes down your spine. “Sure,” he says. “Best of luck.”

You swallow hard, slowly walking backwards to the entrance door. Your eyes scan the adjacent rooms where people in costumes move about like zombies, slow and uncoordinated, trying to pick up dropped cups, wiping at surfaces. They look familiar as well. A sexy ladybug next to a guy with a white T-shirt that says This is my costume. You frown. You feel like you should remember them more clearly, but your mind is fuzzy.

Clutching your purse, you try to look away, and when your back hits the door, you gasp, your hand finding the door knob. You turn it, and it won't budge. Panic settles inside you. You try again, nothing happens.

Then you feel a body next to yours, towering over you, a hand reaching out to close around your own. You stiffen, bracing yourself as long fingers move your hand around the knob, and the door suddenly opens. Cold air hits your nostrils, and you inhale deeply. Looking over your shoulder, you see the man behind you, except now he is wearing that stupid Ghostface mask, making you jump and shriek as you realize how close he is.

A muffled chuckle escapes him. “Oh little Red, it's so sad to see you go,” he says quietly, his hand moving along your arm until it rests on your shoulder. “You really can't stay?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to ignore the burning between your thighs. “No, I... I don't belong here,” you whisper, slowly inching away from him, your feet so heavy you can barely move.

“Hm, you sure?” he replies, tilting his masked face ominously. “I thought we fit quite well together last night...”

Another gasp escapes you, the memory rushing back into your head with a force that makes you stumble backwards, but as soon as you cross the threshold, standing on the porch, outside, you blink in confusion as it fizzles away again. All that remains is the man in the mask, staring at you, his face unmoving, eerie. A sigh sounds from behind the thick plastic.

One of his hands moves to his pants pocket, and as you watch him, frozen to the spot, trying to figure out what happened, he pulls something out that looks strangely familiar to you. The red cloth you chose to match your costume. Your panties. He unfolds them between his long fingers, and you feel a different kind of heat creeping into your cheeks.

“At least I have this to remember you, hm?” he says quietly, waving the garment at you in a mocking fashion.

You take another step back, breathing harder. “I... I don't know what you're talking about,” you reply, forcing the blurry images away.

“Whatever makes you happy, Red,” he sighs, scrunching up your underwear in his big hand before he pushes it back into his pocket. “Say hi to Bear from me, will you?”

His last words make you pause, your eyebrows furrowing. Before you can inquire what he means, how he can possibly know you're with Bear now, he closes the door so slowly it lets off another eerie squeak. You blink, staring at the old wood.

Somehow you manage to turn around, your feet dragging down the porch steps until you hit the gravel. Your head is spinning. And it only gets worse, when you hear a sudden rustle in a bush close to you. With a low snarl, a big black wolf jumps out of it, yellow eyes boring into you. You shriek in fear, stumbling back, but the animal has already grabbed the hem of your skirt between his sharp teeth, pulling you away from the house.

You loose your footing, landing hard on your already scraped knees, but at least the cold stab of pain is finally enough to clear your muddled head. Breathing harder, you sit on your knees, looking back at the large house behind you, before the wolf nudges your cheek with his wet nose. You turn to him, all the terror gone as you look into his bright eyes. There's nothing malicious about this animal. Your hand reaches out to pet his surprisingly soft black fur.

“Bear?” you whisper, sinking your fingers deeper into his pelt.

The wolf huffs a warm breath against your face before he licks his long tongue all over your cheek. You giggle as you try to get away.

“It's fine, Bear,” you whisper as you wrap your arms around the wolf's neck to get back up on your feet. “It's done. Let's go home.”

End notes: There will be one more bonus chapter after this: The Marking, focusing back on our werewolf friend. Stay tuned!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

KINKTOBER 2024 MASTERLIST

[thefandomdirtymind]

Please a OPLA Sanji x fem shyreader magic user? The crew caught them making out ☺️☺️

A/N IMPORTANT:  Hello Anon ! Thank you for your request, I admit it gave me some kind of problem since I'm the exact opposite of shy, but I had fun trying to wonder how it look like and how Sanji would succeed to make himself understand without scaring the reader. I hope you will like it !

The Magic of a Kiss

OPLA - Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji series : SFW Shiny Offering - NSFW The Small Favor - SFW The Mermaid Dream

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.  

—

From as far as you could remember, you're always been able to make the object around you levited . A power who had created a lot of fun games and yes, a few childish misfits. But, it was your family heritage and you couldn’t be more proud to have inherited it. 

Based in a small village near the water, populated mostly by other magical folks, your family had a small shop you never truly learned to love. Your interest was more in the water and the many ships sailing on it. It's why one day, after a heated argument about your lack of implication in the family business, you decide to leave for the city.  

Shy by nature, you weren't the kind to show off, even if as a magic user, your power would have opened many doors ordinary people couldn’t even dream of reaching. But, after a few disastrous interactions, when even meeting the gaze of the Captain was above your force. You finally meet Luffy and his straw hat crew. 

Their warm approach toward you and your power made you quickly feel more comfortable. But, as they tried to get to know you more, you could stop yourself from feeling nervous to open up and bore them. You usually end up silently smiling,fidgeting your fingers, listening to their fantastique adventure and executing the heavy duty since gravity isn't a problem for you. As the time passes, they all accept your shyness, still including you in their conversation and other activities. 

Sanji was by far your favorite member of the crew, to not say you had a pretty hard crush on him. Things who’s even more complicated the task to answer him as he asks you the simplest question or tries to make you happy by cooking your favorite dishes. Of course, the blond chef would never make fun of your betterave red cheeks and often stutter, but he couldn’t help himself to flirt with you. He never had seen something more cute than your reaction as you enjoy his food and he had to admit that nothing makes him more proud than the way you look at him when you thought nobody saw you. 

It’s why one evening, as you were helping Usopp to repair the mainmast, effortlessly sending him the multiple parts of wood he needed. Sanji took place at your side, lighting a cigarette nonchalantly.

“ It amazes me each time watching you use your talent Madam“ He confessed, watching absently the plank of wood gaining altitude. “ Isn’t it exhausting to keep control of the object ?” 

“ No…I just think of it and…then they float…” You replied, already feeling the tips of your ears warming.You would for nothing share with anyone, the humiliated time it takes you to learn how to push them in the right direction and stop before reaching your face.  

“ Oh, so you have to think at every separated item to make them fly…But what happens if you aren’t in a situation to think, like say overwhelmed ? “ His tone, serious, but clearly flirting. Even if you could feel a trap, you couldn’t think of a single time when you could become so self absorbed that you couldn’t even think. “ Like let's say we kiss, will all the objects of the room start to levitate or just our heart ? “ 

The loud “ BAM “ of the plank slamming against the lower desk makes you jump, you face bright red. Up in the air, Usopp asked what happened, worried that something had occurred to you. It push as well Zoro and Nami out of the own preoccupation, concern if it was a normal noise of a sign of a near danger.With the warrant on Luffy head, your Captain who’s right now was snoring somewhere, they didn’t take any  chance.  

“ Sanji ! Don’t tease me like that…please ! “ You plead, your gaze fixed on the floor, embarrassment clearly making you want to disappear on the floor.  

“ I’m not teasing, I’m truly curious to know…We should try one day” He proposed, a smile playing on his lips as he finished his smoke before heading back to the kitchen “ I make your favorite breakfast tomorrow don’t miss it please”

That conversation spined in your head for at least a few weeks before you accept the meaning of it. Sanji had in his smooth way, confessed his affection for you and waited for you to be ready to do the same. Meantime, he didn’t push you further more, dosing his usual flirt and neither talked about it in front of the others, knowing clearly how you would be mortified. 

Until that day. 

The crew had stopped the ship alongside an island reminding you of pictures of jungle you often saw in exploration books. Each taking a different path to explore the village and his surrendering, you quickly become bored and decide to come back to the ship, certain that you were alone aboard. 

It was why the sound of metal brushing against what seemed to be the same component took you by surprise. Making your way to the kitchen, you discover Sanji, already busy cracking eggs in a bowl. Lifting his head, he smiled as he discarded the empty shell. 

“ Already back ? Are you hungry? I am planning to make an omelet for dinner, but i’m not sure if the other will be back so I will make small ones. “ 

Nodding slowly, watching nervously around you, you decided that if you had to respond to his previous invitation it was now or never. 

“ Sanji I…I...You remember that…you know that conversation...about...my talent and...Kiss…” You succeed to say, your hand sweating against your pants.

“ Yes, I remember” He replied, careful to not scare you away.

“ I would like to try…” You finally quickly confessed, your whole body burning like if you had a fever.

Washing his hand with the rag hanging on his shoulder, Sanji gently smiles contouring the kitchen island to place himself in front of you. Putting delicately your chin between his thumbs and his index, he lowered his head trying to meet your evasive gaze. 

“ I would like to see your pretty eyes Madam before kissing you “ He demanded, as you nervously turned your gaze to meet him. “ Much better” He smiled. 

His lips meet yours with tenderness, as his other hand makes himself a home on your hip. Slowly, you closed your eyes, making yourself melt in the multiples sensation of his soft mouth against yours, followed after a certain time by the teasing of his teeth nibbling your bottom lips. Your tongue quickly follows his invitation, brushing against each other, as you hand find their way to his broad shoulder. 

Inclining your head slightly higher to accommodate your difference of height, you instantly reach again for his lips, not wanting to let him go yet. 

Lost in the moment, you didn’t hear the rest of the crew come back, dinner being an abstract place in time way ahead of the feeling of Sanji against you. 

“ WOAH Y/N you can make people levitate now, that’s so cool ! “ You heard Luffy exclaim as Nami, knowing how embarrassed you should be, tried to drag him out. 

Feeling the floor meet your feet, as the cacophony of gravity regain his control of every none fixed item in the room, you promptly separated yourself of Sanji, who’s for once, was as much blushing as you do. 

“ I guess that means dinner isn't ready, “ Zoro said, unmoved by what he just saw, already taking his place at the table alongside Luffy. 

“ Guys we should maybe go eat somewhere else “ Nami tried, eyeing you hoping that it wouldn't push you to close up yourself more. 

“ No need Nami,  dinner almost ready just, give me just a minute “ Sanji protest regaining his composure before clearing his throat, whispering gently to you “ Now since we know that you make float everything around you and everyone you kiss…please Darling, let me be the only one to fly with you” 

Blushing even more, you couldn't resist laughing in front of the embarrassing but joyful event.

“ I swear “ You promised, already excited for the next time.

[artinandwritin]

DUDEEEE THEYRE SO INTERESTING!!! I still remember Sikka from otwd (i love her design so much, all the different components work really really well together) and her tribal tattoos are so interesting and well researched! The background conflict you gave here makes her such a tragic character too, with her conflict with Cato who technically took her under his wing and who she eventually had to betray. Makes it all worse and more upsetting :(((

Ragnall and Siraj look/sound awesome omigosh???? I love the inclusion that not every dragon hunter is an actual dragon hunter, like Siraj. It really adds to the different motivations and makes me really excited to meet these characters in the prequel!! (And also very, very intrigued as to how Ragnall plays into the bigger plot cuz i currently can't imagine how lolll. Excited to find out!)

Oh and also 7 so you can indulge in talking about your ocs (the beloved beans)!! <333

I ended up busy all day yesterday so I decided to add some little drawings to spice up my reply <3 I'm gonna resist yapping about Baldur and Cato for this one, and I'm gonna save our sweet Bjorn and Eret for later yaps. Instead I decided to focus on some other dragon hunter OCs!

People who have read OTWD might remember Sikka for her antler hood or nadder spear, but under the hood she's got incredible tattoos called tunniit. Tunniit are part of the Inuit tattooing tradition that Eret’s tattoos were inspired by. In real life they’re typically seen on women, and these days a lot of women are getting them again to keep their traditions alive, so I decided that based on Eret’s I would give each northern tribe their own kakiniit that identify their tribal affiliation and family. Since our httyd northern tribes live in the Arctic between Greenland and Russia, I figure the tradition probably spread from Greenland! The forehead portion is similar triangle shape for everyone in Sikka’s tribe and represent antlers (there might be variations in exact design based on the family). The chin portion represents one's individual role or honors a family member. Sikka's represents a herder tracking the hoofprints of a reindeer, and her mother had the same. She belongs to the Reindeer Tribe of Reindeer Valley, near Griselda's Fortress and was only 16 when she joined Cato's crew (she's ~21 in OTWD). Griselda refused to hire her at first bc her mother had ended up in a terrible, fatal conflict with one of Griselda's top men that caused controversy between her tribe and the hunting operation, but Cato insisted on giving her a chance. He's extremely proud of her skill and loyalty, and she loves him like a brother, so betraying him in OTWD was not an easy decision. The moment he realizes Sikka's abandoned him is when he decides our heroes have really got to pay, bc he hasn't just lost a payday or even his second chance with Gustav but also his horned shadow. I'm SO excited to see her again in Into the Polar Night, she's going to have a very important role and I think it'll surprise everyone. Hopefully it won't be too long before I post a playlist for her <3

The other two OCs here will only appear in Gustav's short which is tentatively titled How To Hunt Your Dragon LOL

Ragnall is the quartermaster of the Goregutter, the first hunting ship that Gustav and Cato work on, and he's essentially Gustav's boss despite not being much older than him. He manages the ship and deck for the captain Harald Bloodaxe, who handles the business side like choosing where to port and hunt. Ragnall does hunt dragons but he doesn't manage the dragon hold where they're kept, that's up to a slavic man named Wyrmhart (Cato's boss). His mother was the witch Skuld, and he grew up working whaling boats in Thunderhead Bay, and some of the men grumble that he practices witchcraft. He's strict but generally fair, and likes Gustav just because he's a high quality sailor relative to a lot of the hunters. On the other hand, he despises the mainland vikings who are converting to christianity and their christian Saxon neighbors, so he's particularly prejudiced against Cato, who barely even speaks fluent norse at this point (if he'd bother to ask, he'd learn that Cato isn't a christian, but you know how prejudices are). Ragnall is pretty important to the overall OTWD series for a few different reasons actually, so I can't wait to write his story. I think everyone will find it shocking and fun hehe >:)

Siraj is the 19 year old son of an extremely wealthy trade lord from Marrakesh who pays to bring a lot of Griselda's cargo through the Mediterranean. He's apprenticing under Harald and Ragnall to learn the ropes (literally) of sailing and managing a trade business because his father wants him to have practical knowledge before taking over the business, since he's been raised in a very privileged and comfortable life. He went to university in Marrakesh, so he speaks multiple languages and really boggles Gustav's mind with his knowledge haha. He's really sociable and is Gustav's first friend on the Goregutter, they have a fun gang of friends. The only thing he's not involved with is the actual dragon hunting, since that has nothing to do with running a trade empire. He does go home after his time on the Goregutter so he isn't involved in the plot of ITPN or TOTG, but I imagine that he keeps traveling all over the Silk Road and making friends everywhere before taking over his dad's business.

Whew that was some MAJOR yapping but I'm so glad for the chance to talk about some of my dragon hunters. A lot of the hunters are just background people to me, like the background Berserkers, and I don't really consider them OCs, but these three definitely are <33 my actual reaction to this ask:

[optiwashere]

20, pairing chef’s choice 🖤

Thank you for requesting this one! 💜 Oh, whichever pairing shall I choose...

20. A kiss on a scar.

Warning: Implications of abuse from Minthara's time with Orin, including indirect descriptions of a PTSD response.

---

“You’re bleeding.”

Minthara hardly noticed these details during a battle until the killing was done, but this wound in particular eluded her attention. Blood ran from her shoulder down to her elbow, following the sliver of a scar slicing on the same path. Not the oldest of wounds she wore on her body, but one that haunted her more than any other.

“What is this?” Shadowheart asked, quieter than before. “This scar… I’ve never seen it before.”

They shared a bedroll on occasion — after all, Minthara had no need for it otherwise — and there was no need for an irregular visitor to see all her scars. There were countless that Shadowheart herself wore. More than enough for both of them, and so Minthara had always daubed body paint or wove a simple illusion taught to her as a child so long ago.

And it was entirely because of a moment like this. So, Minthara said nothing in return, shrugging her shoulder to brush aside Shadowheart’s healing hands. She drew in a long breath and tensed the muscles in that arm.

“It is nothing,” she snapped in return. “The blood must have been another’s.”

“No, you’re clearly cut. But this is—”

“It is nothing.” Minthara leveled Shadowheart with what she intended to be a righteous fury.

But the face staring back at her was not frightened nor did she look at all dissuaded. Shadowheart said all-too-softly, “How long have you had it?” She turned the threads of her healing magic back to the bleeding wound. “It’s had some time to settle into your flesh.”

Why do I allow her to ask me such questions? Why do I let her touch the wound so close to it?

She should not dignify a foolish attempt at interrogation with an answer. It was not part of her life she should ever tell the likes of a surface-dwelling dalliance.

For all Minthara knew, Shadowheart was a spy. Or someone else entirely. Sharing this sort of personal information was one deadly tactic practiced in Menzoberranzan as well as by any spy worth their weight in lies. Saying a word more would spell her death, surely.

“For as long as I have been on the surface.” The words fell from her before she could even berate herself for saying them. If it’s her…

“Oh.”

That was all. Not another question, prying deeper with the incompetence Minthara expected from her. Perhaps that meant she already knew. Perhaps, then, it meant that this wasn’t Shadowheart at all.

A cold sweat built on Minthara’s brow, and her eyes flicked across the interior of her tent. A dagger was within reach, but the shattered pieces of her mace and her sword were too far away.

Just as her heart began to thud faster in her chest, breaths accelerating, something wet and warm pressed against the scar on her arm. She flinched and reflexively drew her arm to her chest. Surprise lined Shadowheart’s features like a child caught stealing by her snarling, spiteful mother.

“What did you do?” Minthara hissed.

“I didn’t mean anything by it.” Shadowheart held her hands in her lap and blinked at her in confusion. “It was only a kiss.”

Lost for words for a moment, Minthara managed to ask, “A what?”

“A kiss. I know, it’s silly. But a scar with history like yours needs more than magic to heal.”

A history like mine. Minthara said nothing, but she understood the meaning of the kiss. She did not understand, however, why Shadowheart of all women would think she might need that. It was an old scar and nothing more. The result of capture and horrors she named as the source of her well-earned vengeance. That was all. Certainly nothing demanding kisses.

Minthara, formerly of House Baenre, did not understand why she so badly wanted Shadowheart in her bed that night, either.

[aq2003]

archive dive #3: romeo and juliet (2000)

i fucking loved this so so much. ohhhhh it was so good. i am fond of the baz luhrmann movie but my one gripe w it is the portrayal of the titular characters feels too boring and here it's like. i can't even joke david tennant and alex gilbreath are perfect for the roles and i'm obsessed. i feel like this production really nails the tone most of all; when i was reading the play again i found it kinda fucked up and dark, like while it was funny at times (like any shakespeare play is) it very much wasn't this light fantastical sweeping romance, even at the beginning before the deaths start happening...and it feels like michael boyd thought the same when approaching the story. it feels slightly unconventional but also the original felt like that to me too, if that makes sense. anyway i loved the music and choreography in this soooo much and the seperate curved walls symbolizing the two families is just [chefs kiss]. it's a great production all around and i'm forever jealous of the people who got to watch it live

prev / archive dive tag / next

david wrote about it in his romeo essay of course but i love the choice to have romeo narrate the prologue in the middle of the big brawl between the families at the beginning. the fact that it's a romeo after his death looking back on the tragedy with a sense of resignation but also serenity like yessss yessssssss <- sicko. he was doomed from the start because of the world he lived in etc etc

you can feel the teenage angst dripping off romeo the minute he walks onto the stage (after the prologue during his actual first scene). his back is to the camera as benvolio hugs him but the angst is still so palpable. it's coming off of him in waves. just the way that he walks. so real

"in sadness, cousin, i do love...........................a woman" why did he pause like that. this is so funny. what is the implication here.

david plays romeo's self-dramatizing lovesickness perfectly but also this was the exact energy i expected he would also bring to berowne and he surprisingly did not! i will talk about this in the LLL post but i will leave this note here for now

i love alex's voice an inordinate amount and i think it is just a perfect fit for juliet. i think a big thing with juliet is that she sort of acts/imagines herself as much older than she actually is (bc that's how her family sees her too) and her having that kind of raspy, deeper voice lends itself well to that

mercutio is a really interesting bit of this production because it's the one element i feel like is the least faithful to the text (or at least, whatever my reading of the text is). he's very clearly jealous, and a lot of his lines poking fun at romeo's love life feel way less humorous than they were originally written to be. like of course this mercutio is witty and fun which goes for basically any good mercutio but he's also a bit vindictive here! he's cynical about love specifically because of romeo's rejection of him! it's not bad and it def feeds into the tone the production is going for but it is still very Different to me

like by comparison you look at harold perrineau's mercutio (bombastic and campy and fun with this undercurrent of past tragedy to him) or dt's audio drama mercutio (filled w a lust for life without the actual lust. he's just here for a good time) and adrian's mercutio just feels like a whole different character. he even gets aggressive with romeo and pins him down for half of the queen mab speech and it's like mercutio we can find you another twink for you to make heart eyes at it's okay.

i wonder if the familiarity between mercutio and romeo + that line reading on "i do love a woman" a while back implies that they had some kind of history together? is that why mercutio feels so possessive and jealous over romeo? much to think about

the whole stage changing color back to blue during the dance when juliet and romeo first lay eyes on each other. Oh baby

the curved line the capulets form as they hold hands and walk off the stage after the dance imitating the curve of the wall <33

i'm obsessed with how alex delivers the "you kiss by the book" line. it's so funny. i think in general juliet is so interesting because she's less sensitive and "romantic" than romeo is, like if he's this emotional misunderstood poet than she's more of a grounded realist and is almost surprised by how her feelings bloom out of her. in her head it's like she's aware of romeo's unimpressive aspects (like his cookie cutter pickup lines and his mediocre kissing) but she's still enchanted with him anyway because (to steal a line from doctor who) he's the first person she's met who is remotely like her

i love the song the chorus does at the start of act 2, originally i kind of imagined it being done in the same way as the prologue but it would not make as much sense for ghost romeo to come back in now that the story is rolling along lol

the balcony scene... ahhh the balcony scene. i love how romeo starts off with his back pressed against the wall representing the montagues and then when he works up the courage, makes his way over to the capulet wall where juliet is standing at the top of. symbolism!

juliet hitting her head on the wall to punctuate every word of "wherefore art thou romeo" a) is a great way of approaching the text without over-sentimentality + the baggage of "oh these are some of shakespeare's most famous lines" and b) makes the line a lot more easy to understand for a random audience member watching it (like how she's not asking "where" but "why" and is frustrated by the situation she's found herself in)

the two of them reaching for each other over the wall during the "i would i were thy bird" bit made me go "awww :("

mercutio pushing romeo away when he screams "a plague o' both your houses" (while letting himself get carried away by benvolio)... like Oh yeah it's not even actually about the montagues and the capulets at this point he is blaming romeo specifically and i'm positively sure romeo is looking at him with the sad_wet_david_tennant_eyes.gif

the way romeo's voice breaks when he says "but mercutio's soul is a little way above our heads" someone hug him please. oh my god?

3.3 was done so well and i am so [screams loudly] abt it. just in general i think this scene is VERY important to romeo's character, bc this is basically where you understand his turmoil and why he feels like he can't live in a world without juliet. he's traumatized by his friend's death and thinks his soulmate hates him forever and that his life is over. and you get the sense maybe he was always teetering on the edge of a cliff too. it needs to be given the right amount of weight, it can't shy away from this horrible meltdown he's having. and i think david really does it justice in his portrayal of it. the way he paces around in this uncomfortable and frantic way like he doesn't want to be in his own body n how he screams and lashes out and tries to claw at his skin. it is so heartbreaking thank u david i'm so fucked up now

and like the way that friar lawrence takes the dagger from romeo and goes on his whole spiel about how he needs to man up and stop crying and this just makes romeo start crying harder like oh my god. Ohhhhhhhh my god i actually need to be shot

somewhat delving into hc territory but i think romeo (dt's version especially) is very sensitive and seeks out love and affection wherever he can find it bc his parents were emotionally neglectful towards him (while friar lawrence was far more understanding and attentive by comparison, and generally much more of an actual father figure towards him). but even then friar lawrence has his moments of "stop having those stupid girly feelings romeo". i feel like juliet is the only person in the play who doesn't see romeo's emotions as unseemly or ridiculous

i was reading the prompt book alongside watching this and they changed juliet's line "love, lord, ay husband, friend" to "love, lord, my husband, friend" as if that line couldn't get more tragic. my husband. my friend. fuck!!

also. guys i need lord capulet DEAD and GONE. clean shot. ok anyways

one of, if not my favorite scene in the play is in 4.3 where juliet monologues about what could go wrong before drinking the sleeping potion. it's like... she has to be incredibly brave to even get by in her life, whether that be her relationship with romeo or her father threatening her or her accepting the potion from friar lawrence in the first place. her life is actively scary in a way that romeo's isn't and obeying her family would be so much easier but she still doesn't give in and stop fighting. bc her life is hers and she won't let her one choice she made for herself be taken away from her. but here all of that bravery falls away because she basically has to give up and surrender. she's just left with herself and a drink that will basically kill her and it's so genuinely fucking terrifying for her and it makes me want to eat rocks. she is just so young and scared and she has to look death in the face for a chance of freedom and it's so fucking sad because you know it's not going to work and she's doomed by the narrative

AND THE STAGE TURNS BLUE WHEN JULIET HALLUCINATES TYBALT'S GHOST. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. SHE'S SO TERRIFIED AND RIGHTFULLY SO. SHE KNOWS EVERYTHING COULD GO WRONG BUT SHE DOES IT ANYWAY. BUT WE KNOW SHE'S DEAD. SHE'S BEEN DEAD FROM THE BEGINNING.

anyway that scene was cut out in the baz luhrmann movie but it's here in this production which makes me very happy, as happy as i can be about this very upsetting scene where this young girl is finally overwhelmed by her fear of death

mentioning another thing david wrote about in his essay but romeo in act 5 isn't overindulgent and emotional anymore just determined and driven towards his end. but also actually watching it, for me it's just so so sad because it's like. you want that overemotional romeo back, the romeo that was coming up with love poetry on the spot or crying over being separated from juliet. at that point he still wanted to live for her but now it's like he's filled with this cold finality of "oh, i can only be together with her in death. and there is nothing i have left to do but to make that happen"

romeo's final speech to juliet. david tennant i'm in your walls

juliet's dying gasps/sobs as she sinks into the grave with romeo in her arms. alex gilbreath i'm in your walls

the light of the stage turning blue as the ghosts of juliet and romeo come out of the grave and exit the stage together as their parents agree to resolve the conflict between the families... (the only other times it turned blue were when ghost romeo came out to narrate the prologue, when romeo and juliet first meet each other, and right before juliet drinks the sleeping potion). i am sick

the music at the end of the play/during the curtain call is so melancholy and beautiful I AM SICK

such a good production. fuck