#the one on the right is made with store bought eggs

[autobahnmp3]

two attempts at pad kra pao stuffed omelette except i used tofu bc i didn't have minced meat

[genericpuff]

Tbh at this point you should just make your own webcomic app/website because it would probably be 100 times better than whatever going on with webtoon right now.

hahaha it wouldn't tho, sorry 💀

Here's the fundamental issue with webcomic platforms that a lot of people just don't realize (and why they're so difficult to run successfully):

Storage costs are incredibly expensive, it's why so many sites have limitations on file sizes / page sizes / etc. because all of those images and site info have to be stored somewhere, which costs $$$.

Maintenance costs are expensive and get more so as you grow, you need people who are capable of fixing bugs ASAP and managing the servers and site itself

Financially speaking, webcomics are in a state of high supply, low demand. Loads of artists are willing to create their passion projects, but getting people to read them and pay for them is a whole other issue. Demand is high in the general sense that once people get attached to a webtoon they'll demand more, but many people aren't actually willing to go looking for new stuff to read and depend more on what sites feed them (and what they already like). There are a lot of comics to go around and thus a lot of competition with a limited audience of people willing to actually pay for them.

Trying to build a new platform from the ground up is incredibly difficult and a majority of sites fail within their first year. Not only do you have to convince artists to take a chance on your platform, you have to convince readers to come. Readers won't come if there isn't work on the platform to read, but artists won't come if they don't think the site will be worth it due to low traffic numbers. This is why the artists with large followings who are willing to take chances on the smaller sites are crucial, but that's only if you can convince them to use the site in favor of (or alongside) whatever platform they're using already where the majority of their audience lies. For many creators it's just not worth the time, energy, or risk.

Even if you find short-term success, in the long-term there are always going to be profit margins to maintain. The more users you pull in, the more storage is used by incoming artists, the more you have to spend on storage and server maintenance costs, and that means either taking the risk at crowdfunding (ex. ComicFury) or having to resort to outsider investments (ex. Tapas). Look at SmackJeeves, it used to be a titan in the independent webcomic hosting community, until it folded over to a buyout by NHN and then was pretty much immediately shuttered due to NHN basically turning it into a manwha scanlation site and driving away its entire userbase. And if you don't get bought out and try your hand at crowdfunding, you may just wind up living on a lifeline that could cut out at any moment, like what happened to Inkblazers (fun fact, the death of Inkblazers was what kicked off the cultural shift in Tapas around 2015-16 when all of IB's users migrated over and brought their work with them which was more aimed towards the BL and romancee drama community, rather than the comedy / gag-a-day culture that Tapas had made itself known for... now you deadass can't tell Tapas apart from a lot of scanlation sites because it got bought out by Kakao and kept putting all of its eggs into the isekai/romance drama basket.)

Right now the mindset in which artists and readers are operating is that they're trying way, way too hard to find a "one size fits all" site. Readers want a place where they can find all their favorite webtoons without much effort, artists wants a place where they can post to an audience of thousands, and both sides want a community that will feel tight-knit. But the reality is that you can't really have all three of those things, not on one site. Something always winds up having to be sacrificed - if a site grows big enough, it'll have to start seeking more funding while also cutting costs which will result in features becoming paywall'd, intrusive ads, creators losing their freedom, and/or outsider support which often results in the platform losing its core identity and alienating its tight-knit community.

If I had to describe what I'm talking about in a "pick one" graphic, it would look something like this:

(*note: this is mostly based on my own observations from using all of these sites at some point or another, they're not necessarily entirely accurate to the statistical performance of each site, I can only glean so much from experience and traffic trackers LMAO that said I did ask some comic pals for input and they were very helpful in helping me adjust it with their own takes <3).

The homogenization of the Internet has really whipped people into submission for the "big sites" that offer "everything", but that's never been the Internet, it relies on being multi-faceted and offering different spaces for different purposes. And we're seeing that ideology falter through the enshittification of sites like Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. where users are at odds with the platforms because the platforms are gutting features in an attempt to satisfy shareholders whom without the platforms would not exist. Like, most of us aren't paying money to use social media sites / comic platform sites, so where else are they gonna make the necessary funds to keep these sites running? Selling ad space and locking features behind paywalls.

And this is especially true for a lot of budding sites that don't have the audience to support them via crowdfunding but also don't have the leverage to ask for investments - so unless they get really REALLY lucky in EITHER of those departments, they're gonna be operating at a loss, and even once they do achieve either of those things there are gonna be issues in the site's longevity, whether it be dying from lack of growing crowdfunding support or dying from shareholder meddling.

So what can we do?

We can learn how to take our independence back. We don't have to stop using these big platforms altogether as they do have things to offer in their own way, particularly their large audience sizes and dipping into other demographics that might not be reachable from certain sites - but we gotta learn that no single site is going to satisfy every wish we have and we have to be willing to learn the skills necessary to running our own spaces again. Pick up HTML/CSS, get to know other people who know HTML/CSS if you can't grasp it (it's me, I can't grasp it LOL), be willing to take a chance on those "smaller sites" and don't write them off entirely as spaces that can be beneficial to you just because they don't have large numbers or because they don't offer rewards programs. And if you have a really polished piece of work in your hands, look into agencies and publishing houses that specialize in indie comics / graphic novels, don't settle for the first Originals contract that gets sent your way.

For the last decade corporations have been convincing us that our worth is tied to the eyes we can bring to them. Instead of serving ourselves, we've begun serving the big guys, insisting that it has to be worth something eventually and that it'll "payoff" simply by the virtue of gambler's fallacy. Ask yourself what site is right for you and your work rather than asking yourself if your work is good enough for them. Most of us are broke trying to make it work on these sites anyways, may as well be broke and fulfilled by posting in places that actually suit us and our work if we can. Don't define your success by what sites like Webtoons are enforcing - that definition only benefits them, not you.

[nayaesworld]

Rugged Whiskey

Warnings: Mentions of killing, smut, toxic behavior and situations

—

Terry Richmond X OC!Khia

Part 2

__

|Future Wifey: If you can find out where I’m at in the next hour this pussy is yours again daddy 😉

Terry sprung up from his couch and headed out his door, he had no time to waste and he had a lesson to teach. There was no telling where she was at the moment but Terry had a few places in mind he would look, Hide and go seek for pussy huh? She just knew he would come running, and here he was scrambling his brain like eggs neurons firing off with thought after thought of where to search first.

Her voice stuck inside his head like the call of a siren to a lonely pirate.The black ski mask and leather gloves inside his glove compartment would finally see the light of day again. Terry was flying around the city desperate to leave no stone unturned. The park,the grocery story, the bar, her favorite spa place. All places left him no closer to Khia than he was when he first left home and it was nearing nightfall. An annoyed growl left his lips as he slapped his steering wheel, he was frustrated and starting to feel anxious. His left eye began to twitch and his palms rubbed constantly on his black jeans trying to calm his bouncing leg. He already owed her one for blocking him, and now she was making it worse for herself not being easily accessible to him.

His phone vibrated in his console and he snatched it up to see a new text from her. She was taunting him.

|Future Wifey: Did you give up on me daddy? I don’t see you anywhere.

A picture attached to the text message made him lean up in his seat. A sliver of her face shown in a failed attempt at hiding her background from him. At first nothing about the tiny view of her surroundings looked familiar, until he noticed the orange neon sign in the background. Sensual, a popular lingerie store located in the mall, he now had her location and it was time for the real games to start.

By the time he had reached the parking lot of the mall the sun and moon had exchanged places in the sky, and only a bold white moon lit up the night. Ski mask rolled up on his forehead and leather gloves on he started the trek into the mall. She could be anywhere in there now. His all black attire had him gliding through thick crowds of people, like a scene straight out of Halloween he glided slowly through the mall. His eyes sliding slowly left to right surveying his surroundings carefully. He just needed one flash of her.

He rode the escalator up to the second floor of the mall and found the lingerie store, he had to check inside it first to be sure.

“Hi, welcome to Sensual. Is there anything I can assist you with today?” A chirpy voice greeted him from behind the counter and he glanced at the tall brunette.

“Good evening…I was looking for my wife. She was just here but I seemed to have lost her.” He pulled out his phone and showed the woman the photo Khia had just sent him.

“Oh yess I remember her, she bought a few items but left shortly after… she said she had an Uber to catch.” She drifted off the last few words as she glanced at the leather gloves on his hand, eyebrows scrunched with worry. Noticing her change in demeanor immediately, he knew it was time to cut the convo short.

“Ok thank you, have a good night.” He turned on his heels and headed for the escalators. He had to get back to the front of the mall asap and now he knew she didn't drive her own car there he needed to be quick on his feet. He was itching to touch and squeeze flesh..her flesh.

Reaching the entrance of the mall outside he finally saw her, and that was almost enough to make him nut just from relief alone. She stood waiting with her shopping bag faced away from him, mindlessly tugging on the necklace around her neck . The grey sweats and jacket hung off her in an oversized fashion and he couldn’t wait to tear them from her. Dark natural curls blowing slightly in the wind made her this picturesque beauty and he knew he couldn’t wait any longer to bring her home.

Gloves tight on his hands and ski mask pulled down, he approached the dark shaded area she stood in. It was perfect cover and no one would notice him dressed to the nines in full out burglar gear. Slow quiet paces made him invisible to her, and when he finally stood behind her he slid a hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Anchoring her to him with nowhere to run. A gasp and a small scream exited her mouth as she thrashed around in his hold trying to get a look at the creep that had his hands on her.

“Stop all that screaming shit, save it for later. Now walk…and don’t try no funny shit. I won your little game fair and square.” When he finally let her go he saw her eyes were slightly damp and reached out to wipe them.

“Aww I scared you baby?… good don’t have me out here looking for your ass. I’m sad too but I’m not crying.”

He watched her scrunch up her face and roll her eyes. “I’m not crying, and I definitely wasn’t scared.” He didn't buy her little act, he knew a genuinely stunned face when he saw one.

“Mm yeah yeah, now walk. You know what I drive.” With a nudge he pushed her into the parking lot, taking her bag from her hands to carry it and toss in his truck.

__

The drive was silent and Khia had no idea where he was taking her. A slight downpour had covered the truck on their drive and the sounds of the windshield wipers against the glass was the only sound available. Terry was eerily quiet. She expected him to gloat and nag her but he was just silent, an unnerving silence.

“Are you gonna take off that mask?” The ski mask was still pulled over his face and she was getting hot from it.

His head glanced her way then back at the road before he answered her. “Why you scared..?”

“No, and where are we going, your apartment is in the city. We’re on the outskirts of town?” He put a finger to his lips signaling for her to shush and cut on his radio. She sat back in her seat and huffed loudly, maybe she should’ve just stayed her ass home and kept him blocked.

“You good… you got something you wanna share? Sit tight and chill out we almost there.”

“I don’t wanna chill out, I wanna know where we’re going, all this blowing up my phone and stalking me for nothing…I never should have texted you back.” She sat in the passenger seat face frowned up from pure impatience. He was annoying her and she wasn’t holding her tongue.

“Oh you just a mouthy little brat tonight ain’t you…if I tell you to close your mouth again trust me you won’t like what comes next.” A big hand laid on her thigh in warning and she finally sat back and stayed quiet.

Terry made a sharp left turn onto a rural back road. It was dark and the only thing she could see was miles and miles of field. She sat up in her seat trying to gauge where she was but nothing looked familiar and she’d never been this far out of the city, she had no reason to come way out here. He made another left turn and this street sign she caught a glimpse of. Stone Hill road? Was he being serious right now?

The eerie dark road had been the chosen spot for a link of murders. Each body made its way to Stone Hill road and was disposed of, only to be discovered months after they’d been killed and buried. The person was never caught but everyone knew to steer clear of the road. Yet Terry had just pulled to the side of the road, parked and turned off his truck.

“Terry, why are we here?”

He threw her a squinted look before answering. “Why do you think we here?”

“Haha very sarcastic, but did you pick THIS road specifically…don’t you know what happened here?”

“Yeah I know, that’s why it’s perfect. It fits the occasion…lil bit of serial killer dick never hurt nobody.” He mumbled the last part more so to himself but Khia swore she caught the tail end of it.

“What?… Terry what did you say?”

“I said a lil bit of scary dick never hurt nobody���what did you think i said?” His green eyes peered into hers in the dark cabin of his truck.

“I-I don’t know..just forget it. I think I’m just tired.” She gave him a small nervous smile and pushed a curl behind her ear.

He snatched her up by her jacket and pulled her in close, pressing his soft plump lips to her ear. “Don’t question me again, I’m in charge..you know that.”

Her chest rose and fell quickly. She was more and more turned on as the seconds flew by and her clothes began to feel completely uncomfortable on her hot skin.

He needed her in the worst ways right now. And more importantly he needed her out of those clothes and on his dick. He pulled off his ski mask and leather gloves and placed them in the armrest, long fingers reaching over and stroking her thick thigh.

“Dig in your panties and let daddy smell that pussy… mm mm don’t act shy now, do it.” He watched her breathe shakily as she slid the sweatpants past her ass and slid her hand into her pink panties, fingers moving slowly in her panties gathering her juices on her fingers. She lifted her fingers from her panties and put her index and middle finger under his nose.

He gripped her wrist and inhaled her sweet scent, nothing in his life smelled better than it. A smell so intoxicating and raw it made his most primal thoughts and feelings rise to the forefront. He wanted to own her and fill her head with his own thoughts, but she had to be somewhat willing. The tangy taste of her juices made his taste buds tingle and mouth fill up with water. Pussy definitely made the world go round and there was no denying that fact.

“Come sit on daddy’s lap, let me feel you.” He patted his thighs and used the automatic button next to his seat and pushed back along with reclining it a bit for more space. She kicked her shoes and sweats off and crossed the console to sit on his lap letting him pull off her jacket and t-shirt. He came out of his black denim jacket and tossed it on the dashboard along with her clothing, his urge to feel her made him feel like he’d absorb her into his skin. He gazed into her damp brown eyes as he rotated her hips in a circle on his bulge, his pants slowly finding their place down his ankles.

Their breathing picked up and they grinded against one another at a quicker pace. Her bare chest on his clothed one as he pulled her closer into him, his hips lifting up to meet her soaked center every time, loud grunts and growls jumping from his mouth. The dry humping had them drunk on lust. Mouths sliding hungrily against each other's faces in a rush to assert dominance over the other. His low moans had her pussy clenching around nothing in her panties and she was sure she would combust from the feeling beneath her. She slowed her hips and looped her fingers around the hem of her panties and threw them aside. She needed him badly.

“Baby I need you to touch me please…look how wet I am for you. Put your fingers inside me, make me cum.” She leaned back against the steering wheel to give him a view of the mess she was making in his lap, and watched him drag a lone finger down her slit before he slowly pushed into her.

“Tj you make me crazy… I thought about you everyday I had you blocked.” He let his finger speed up slowly adding a second and pushing in until only his knuckles showed.

“That’s because I’m daddy, and I told you that. You gonna block me again mama?”

“No Noo I promise, I’ll never do it again daddy..that’s my dick.”

She threw her head back and bounced slowly on his fingers. Her pussy had his lap wet with her arousal and his wrist was working overtime between giving her good penetration and clitoral stimulation.

“What you gonna do for this dick tho baby, tell daddy what you willing to do for it.” She leaned forward into him nuzzling her lips against his ears, sucking his earlobe into her mouth.

“I’ll catch a charge behind this dick, it’s mine and nobody else’s. I’ll beat you and any bitch that doesn’t get that.” Terry let his Hand come down on her ass cheek hard, and quickly pulled his shirt from his body.

Her tongue slithered across his chest and to his neck.

“Oh yeah, you fighting about this dick?..you gonna fight daddy in the backseat and ain’t no running back there.”

__

Terry's hand wrapped around Khia’s throat as he drove his hips into hers. He had her folded up in the backseat of his truck feeding her inch after inch of hard dick. She had nowhere to run.

“Daddy it’s in my stomach…mm fuckkk please just cum already I-ahh.”

Terry pressed his hand onto her belly watching his bulge form behind her skin in and out. “That's where I’m supposed to be..right mama. Mhmh fucking this pussy, my pussy!”

“Tj my pussy…my pussy is yours, and that dick is mine.” She reached between them and held onto his dick as he sped up splashing her cream onto his seats. He’d get it detailed sometime soon to cleanse his truck of their sex.

The windows in the truck held a slight fog as the temperature inside it kept rising. Body temperatures collectively turning their fuck session into a homemade sauna. He glanced down at Khia watching her whimper, a glazed film over her eyes as her breathing slowed. He took his hand from around her neck to slap her cheek lightly.

“You better breathe.. I can’t believe this dick got you about to pass out!” She breathed in a large gust of air and reached forward to pull him into her body.

“Because you’re fucking me daddy, you fuck me so well.” The helpless look on her face mixed in with the sentiment had him exploding internally, if she said one more thing like that he wouldn’t last any longer.

“Fuck..fuck say it again. Tell daddy what he’s doing to this sweet pussy.” Praise was one of his kinks and she was playing right into it. His head dropped to her chest to suck on a plump nipple and his hips rolled slowly trying to hold back his release.

“Tj you're such a good boy…you found me and brought me back with you..you did so good. And now I feel it coming, you about to nut daddy..please cum Tj.” Her honeyed tone weakened him and had him sucking breaths in quickly to make himself sane in the moment. But her pussy was constricting him. Her tight hot walls suctioning him in further resembling a racing heartbeat. He had to fight against it and pull out hot slimy coats of white jizz covering her belly and breast.

She dozed off quickly after he sat her back in his passenger seat. Spent body curled against the door using his jacket as a blanket. Terry was fatigued but pushed back towards the city to his apartment, they needed a hot shower and food. He woke her up and grabbed her stuff from his backseat, swiping his keycard to get into his building. She trudged behind him, yawning and stretching as they made it inside his apartment. Clothes stripped off again for the second time that night. The two stepped into the spacious shower together. She slid her hands around his waist locking her fingers as she held her head against his chest. A thudding heartbeat echoing in her ear. Warm shower water pouring onto them in gentle pulses.

“You ok mama..what’s on your mind?”

“You are, I loved tonight, and I love your body. You’re like an Adonis.” He felt the feather-like touches slithering all over his back and meeting together in the front to explore his large biceps and toned abdominal muscles.

“Mm thank you my baby I try, but have you seen you, you stacked lil mama. Really ain’t ever seen anything like it… that’s why I can’t let you out my sight.” They continued exchanging compliments and exchanged kisses as they washed each other's body from head to toe.

Freshly washed and moisturized, they chatted in his kitchen. Khia sat swiveling left to right on his bar chairs, body covered in a red and white polka dot slip watching Terry’s naked back as he cooked up a mini brunch for them. He placed a few crispy edge pancakes on a plate for her along with a fried egg and breakfast sausage. She drowned everything in syrup and sipped on her cold glass of orange juice tucking into the sweet and savory late night brunch. Conversation drifted onto the two of them discussing being hit on in the workplace and Terry let his resolve slip once more.

“So what would you do if you saw me flirting with another man, it’s just a little flirting can’t be that bad right?” He watched a sneaky smirk form on her face and enlightened her with a matching one.

“I’d kill him…simple, just to make sure you get the memo that is. You want his life taken from him, then go ahead and play in my face.” She laughed loudly and waved him off, hand in front of her mouth just cracking up at him.

“Terry you can’t say stuff like that, that’s crazy.” Hadn’t she caught on yet? That’s exactly what he was.

“Of course I can, and I can mean it too.” He stuffed the last piece of egg into his mouth before moving to wash out his plate.

“You would kill for me Tj?” Her voice came out low and sultry and he whipped around to stare at her, dark brown eyes low but expressive.

“Fuck of course you would… you’d do anything I asked you, right daddy?” She continued speaking to him in that tone, breaking him down further and placing her in the driver seat of his body. She leaned onto the island titties jiggling from the low cut of her slip.

“Good boys get all the pussy in the world when they listen…are you a good boy Tj?” Terry was under her spell lock and key. He shook his head quickly, he was a good boy and he would do anything she asked.

“Yes I’m a good boy mamas…haven’t I shown you that though?” He rounded the island to stare down at her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She pulled him down to her face by his ears, gripping and rubbing them. She placed chaste kisses behind his ear lobe.

“Yes you have baby but I want more, can you do something else for me…so I know it’s real? Can you do this one thing to solidify us…make us one?”

“Yes yes anything, name it now.. you got it I swear…I want us to be one. Tell me what I have to do to earn you?” She sucked a hickey onto his neck, a warm hand down his grey sweats stroking the head of his dick softly as he breathed harshly in her ear. Terry was putty in her hand, his brain on autopilot as he turned into a living breathing ventriloquist dummy right before his own eyes. Worshipping wasn’t enough for him, she was goddess-like. She could snap her fingers and like a dog he would do what she said when she said it.

“Can you make someone disappear for me…I want you to be the last person he lays eyes on before you take his life, plus you're a beautiful sight who wouldn’t wanna die to your face daddy.”

Terry fell apart from that alone, spongy tip and her hand covered in webs of cum. She played with it some more on her hand before she stuffed the sticky fingers into her mouth. Making a scene of the milky white slime sticking to her lips. He gripped her chin and sucked her tongue into his mouth, he didn’t give one fuck about her having a mouth full of his nut.

“Count him as dead already, give me his address and workplace..let me prove how badly I want and need you.”

__

A/N: And that praise kink? IMMA WRITE IT. I hope yall enjoy these cuckoo birds as much as I do🫶🏾 I tried to tag everyone but if I missed you my bad!

@venusincleo @grlsbstshot @yassbishimvintage @avoidthings @pocketsizedpanther @writingsbytee @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @playgurlxoxo @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @brattyfics @hotgrlcece @henneseyhoe @starcrossedxwriter @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @blackmoonchilee @invisiblegiurl @blackerthings @19jammmy

[id-element0]

Oni28's Blueberry Cheesecake for TS3

I've been sitting on this for days because, well, 'real life'... Anyways, it's done. You can check this and this post for further info and more pictures.

The cake can be purchased from the catalogue and a single slice can be bought from a food register. But I haven't check the Rabbit Hole Grocery Store. It also comes with a recipe book and a custom buff which are documented in the posts linked above. Two versions: A BGC one with a recipe requiring eggs, fruits (if there's no blueberry) and cheese. And a Baker's Basket version with a recipe requiring creme cheese, sugar and fruits (if there's no blueberry) which is shown in the screenshot above.

The cooking process in this post is for BGC version. Baker's Basket version has a slightly different process. During testing, upon eating the cake Gigi was so delighted she wanted to learn the recipe which amused me quite a bit so I included the screenshot of it.

Both versions require Custom Cake Connector and CCloader. Baker's Basket version additionally requires, well, Baker's Basket. You ONLY need ONE version since they're exactly the same except ingredients and cooking process which will conflict if you have both.

Technical details for the nerds: I changed the UVMap of the cake to make room for the serving tray. The berries and their sauce beds are decimated to acceptable levels. Polys are 734 for the cake and 138 for the slice. One thing to note, Baker's Basket already have a recipe for Blueberry Cheesecake. Still, the meshes and the textures are really different. Also, this one's recipe book costs §150 and requires level 5 of cooking skill. So you can easily sort them out. Have fun. And let me know if things are not right.

- Credits -

@oni28 for the mesh and textures

@martassimsbookcc for conversion to TS3

@echoweaver for the Custom Cake Connector

douglasveiga for CCLoader

@icemunmun-spicy-scalpel for Baker's Basket

@sarasccblog for that ask :)

Made with: s3oc, s3pe, Blender, GIMP

@pis3update @kpccfinds @xto3conversionsfinds

- DOWNLOAD - The Base Game Compatible version

:: MEDIAFIRE | SFS ::

- DOWNLOAD - The Baker's Basket version

:: MEDIAFIRE | SFS ::

[pupkashi]

mistletoe-go

satoru comes up with a new holiday tradition

a/n: hi friends !! this is a silly little thing i thought of when i went to michaels the other day and saw their christmas decorations ! let me know what u guys think :3

wordcount: 949

masterlist

satoru sees an artificial mistletoe at the store one day, his eyes linger on it for a bit, walking past it and straight to what he needed to buy. the little plant lives in the back of his head the entire time he’s walking around the store, should he buy it? you guys had already decorated for the holidays, what’s one more thing?

he snags two of the small fake plants and adds them to his cart, smiling to himself as he pays for them, already planning on exactly where to put them.

you don’t notice it when you greet satoru in the living room, smiling at him and welcoming him home.

“did you find the right batteries for the lamp?” you asked, watching as he tossed the bag to the side, grabbing what looked like a clump of leaves and tying it up so it dangled from the ceiling.

“yeah i did, can you come look at this? wanna make sure you like the placement” he smiles, holding back his maniacal giggles as you step close and closer to him, until the two of you are finally under the plant. “oh would you look at that! we’re under the mistletoe” he grins.

you can’t help but smile, laughing at his antics and rolling your eyes lovingly. “that we are” you hum, leaning into him a bit, “you know what that means right?” satoru looks into your eyes excitedly, already leaning forward as his eyes dash from your eyes to your lips.

��kiss me sweetheart, it’s tradition” he mumbles, a small smile as you lean in closer to him, lips only centimeters apart when you abruptly stop. it makes his eyes shoot open and brows furrow, lips forming into a pout, “why’d you stop?” he whines.

“don’t you hate tradition?” you tease, watching as he rolls his eyes, one arm slipping around your waist and pulling you flush against him, the other slipping behind your neck as he crashes his lips into yours.

he pulls away with a satisfied smile on his face, eyes practically sparkling as you chase his lips for one last peck, pulling away from him. he doesn’t tell you of the extra mistletoe in the bag, opting instead to sneak it into his pockets, just in case.

it’s two days later when you’re sitting across the kitchen bar from him, mindlessly eating cereal and watching him making himself some eggs, your mind so focused on the muscles of his back moving you don’t see the outline of the faux mistletoe in the left pocket of his sweats. you don’t even register what he’s doing until he’s standing in front of you, fishing in his pocket and holding his arm up over the two of you.

you look up, eyes meeting the same leaves that were hung up only a couple feet away from the two of you. “did you take that down to put it in your pocket?” you laugh in disbelief, satoru only shakes his head proudly.

“i bought two, one for home and one to go,” he explains, leaning over the counter and placing his lips onto yours, you could taste his honey chapstick when you licked your lips after.

“isn’t the point for it to be, i don’t know, random? by chance? like the Christmas spirit bringing two people together?” you ask, twirling your spoon a bit, head resting in the palm of your hand, ogling your lover as he stretched, heart faltering when his abs flexed a bit.

“oh cmon sweetheart, fate already brought us together, i think the Christmas spirit can take this year off,” he smiles, “I’ll be sure to do the mistletoe-ing this year.”

satoru was true to his word, carrying the small decor item everywhere the two of you went. you were caught off guard the first time, you knew he was serious about ‘mistletoe-go’ as he called it, but you didn’t expect him to pull it out in front of the first years.

your face burned as you eyes went wide, satoru already puckering his lips to kiss you.

“ooooo sensei!” yuji teased, giggling, megumi and nobara had made face of slight disgust, still looking out of the corner of their eyes to see if gojo would get rejected.

“cmon sugar plum don’t embarrass me infront of my kids” he whispers, you roll your eyes at him, placing your lips onto his quickly, laughing when the students shout a mix of ‘ew’s and ‘aw’s.

satoru continue to pull the mistletoe out: at the grocery store, on walks together, anywhere around the house, even at a restaurant once.

everytime he’s act surprised, ‘who put that there?’ he’d say, a smile on his face as he furrowed his brows in faux concentration before sighing, ‘gotta do what you gotta do!’ he’s smile, leaning in, ready to catch your lips in his.

you’d indulge him everytime, not caring where you were. you’d both go in for a quicker second peck, smiling into it as you both pulled away. satoru always had pink dusting his cheeks afterwards, though he’d swear you were lying to him every time.

after such a successful first year satoru made it a tradition. mistletoe-go was something he looked forward to every year, never failingto remember, breaking it out earlier and earlier over time.

“this was the best purchase ever” he smiles, holding the bundle of leaves above the two of you.

“i don’t know those batteries were really great too” you tease, leaning in and pressing your lips to his, the familiar taste of his chapstick meeting your tastebuds.

you’d never admit it to him, but you loved mistletoe-go just as much as he did.

taglist (send and ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[ataraxiaspainting]

Just the Way I Am.

Yan Yuji x F Reader x Yan Sukuna.

Synopsis: Yuji is like the sun. His cursed half is like the moon. Both of them hurt you, but in different ways, but neither of them will stop. That mere fact, in the end, hurts you more than if only Sukuna was around because sometimes you think of terrible things. Terrible things like wishing Yuji, who used to always be your ray of sunshine, never existed at all or would die a slow and painful death.

Warnings: Yandere themes, manipulation, unhealthy relationships, violence, and a not-so-healthy dash of not SFW and misogyny (from our dear Sukuna of course).

Word Count: 850.

*~*~*~*

Yuji was not wearing the clothes he usually wore. Instead of his favorite outfit which consisted of a scarlet hoodie and black sweatpants, he simply wore his briefs, sitting on the couch opposite to the bed you had slept in since the night before, loudly eating some beef jerky you and he had gotten from the convenience store yesterday. All the noise was the reason you had woken up in the first place. Choosing not to voice it, though, you attempted to go back to bed. Perhaps that was the wrong decision though, because as soon as you closed your eyes and turned to face the wall, you felt long nails grip at your shoulder, sinking deep enough to almost make you bleed. It was foolish of you to do such a thing, you realize because Yuji only bought the jerky for Sukuna.

Before you could turn around to greet him, the pain went further into your flesh, making you wince.

“Who taught you to be so rude, huh?” The voice was as cold as it always has been, being as much more gruff than Yuji’s ever could be. “Answer me.”

His breath was smokey from the beef jerky but also smelled like rotting food, the instant ramen Yuji made along with a boiled egg he swore was not too old to eat. You try your best not to gag as you start stuttering out an apology.

“N-No one…”

“Oh really?” The voice changed to that of a mockery of something tranquil, something kind. Something like Yuji’s voice. But instead of begging you to stay the night while claiming it was too dark out for a girl to be walking to her dorm room alone, it was speaking to you like you had just done something you were too dumb to realize was stupid. You suppose, in a way, that that is what you had done. 

You forgot the very first rule Sukuna had told you to never disobey when you had woken up screaming at the sight of something that looked sort of like Yuji but did not act like him at all, and now you are in for yet another trip to hell itself. 

“I told you I didn’t want another brat. I already deal with one as it is.” He lets go, and out of instinct to not get hurt more than you already will today, you turn around to face him. He looks down at you, his arms crossed and shaking his head in a mix of amusement and disappointment. “You deal with him too. You know just how big of a pain in the ass he can be. ‘Oh, [First], let me carry you to my bed! Oh, [First], I’m sorry for hitting you when I thought you were cheating on me, please come back! Oh, [First], I’m not a pervert, but wear those shorts that show off your ass for me!’ Please, it’s all pathetic, isn’t it? He’s just as bad as me.”

Not wanting to get hurt even more, you agree by nodding your head faster than necessary, you think, because as a response Sukuna laughs so loud it hurts your ears.

“Tell me, just why haven’t you left him yet then, hm? Since you’re so eager to admit I am right.” 

Your answer is whispered low, though you already know Yuji can hear you, even when Sukuna takes his turn with the body they share. “Because of you. You’d… drag me back.”

“Good girl.” The customary compliments are merely a facade just like this one, no matter who is speaking. His resentment towards you remains intact. Soon, Yuji will also harbor the same fury, as he takes his rightful turn in that vessel they both inhabit. “You haven’t even been promoted to Grade 3 yet. Quite sad, wouldn’t you say? Not that a little girl like you should be a sorcerer to begin with.”

Once again, you nod your head.

“How would you ever hope to survive me, or even outrun me, the King of Curses?”

“I… I wouldn’t.”

Another praise that is just as empty as all the ones before it. With it, the walls of Yuji’s dorm feel even more like that of a prison’s, and this room feels even more small. If these walls could talk, they would tell you to run, or at least you would hope that they would.

“That’s right. So good.” Sukuna turns to face the only window in Yuji’s dorm. You look too. The sun is going down. Did you really sleep for that long? Not that you blame yourself, dealing with Yuji during the day could be considered a full-time job after all. “You fell asleep before I could get my turn. Now, how are you going to compensate me for that when it is fully night outside?”

As the sun descends like a sharp guillotine blade, you and Sukuna share a silent understanding of the inevitable. Your legs tremble at the impending doom, for both of you are well aware of the answer.

You’ll stay, won’t you?

[lunajay33]

Future🍂

Summary: Daryl’s the only one that’s ever made you feel loved so when you get separated during the apocalypse you feel lost without him

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Daryl was there for me growing up and I was there for him, when his dad acted out on him I was there to hold him through the night, when a guy would break my heart he’d do everything he could to cheer me up, we were inseparable, so we saved money and bought a little house in the woods together, it was peaceful everything was just settling for us, eventually he asked me to be his girl and it was the happiest day of my life

Then came the apocalypse, thankfully I was with him when everything happened and he took me to the quarry away from the town staying far away from big crowds, we shared a tent and I’d grip him tight at night scared that if I closed my eyes he’d be gone in the morning or something would happen and he’d turn into a walker

Eventually we made it to the farm, life seems like it can be good here, there’s water, land to grow crops, chickens and livestock, even after everything that’s happened including Daryl’s accident I’ve felt a sense of calm for once

“Hey sunshine ya doin okay?” Daryl asked as he sat next to me around the low burning fire as he handed me a plate of bacon and eggs

“Oh yeah I’m fine just thinking about how we use to live, remember all the plans I had for our home, all the recipes I wanted to make, all the trips I wanted to experience with you, a family…….” I said the last part under my breath but the man had the ears of a bat

“Ya wanted a family…..with me?” He asked a bit of shock laced in his voice

“Of course D why would I, have a little girl running around with crazy dark hair like yours, seeing you play with her, maybe getting a dog you like, I just had so much more for us, but I’m still grateful that we were able to escaped together”

“Maybe one day we can still have that, ya never know sunshine, I wish I coulda given ya more”

“You give me plenty Daryl”

Everything was happening so quickly one minute the barns on fire the next there are walkers swarming the farm, I tried to get to Daryl but I got cornered by walkers having to run into the woods, my heart was beating so fast that was all I could hear, running for what seemed like hours till the sun started to rise, eventually I couldn’t hear anymore groans and moans of walkers, I slumped against a tree exhausted when I realized I’m in the middle of nowhere with no idea how to get back or where to even start looking for Daryl

That heavy feeling gripped my heart voiding me of any emotion but despair, I walked and walked and walked down the long winding road heading South, making stops for any supplies left at random houses or stores I came by, 2 months into be on the road I became sick, not being able to keep anything down, exhausted more from the long days of walking, coming to realize I was pregnant, it gave me a little bit of hope knowing that if I truly never found Daryl again atleast I’d have a part of him still

The months dragged on until my belly was plump with a little Dixon, luckily I found a house unscathed from seekers, the food stocked high which made sure I was malnourished during this pregnancy, I loaded up a car with the groceries and drove, everything worked for a few months, I am guessing I’m about 7 months now and the food was running low and the gas was running out, slowly my car came to a halt, I got out feeling the Georgia heat when I heard running water, I ventured into the trees with my canteen finding a a small man made waterfall, I filled the canteen when I heard shots, looking forward over a hill I see a prison, people walking around, I was secure no walker inside, distracted I didn’t notice where I was stepping and stepped right onto a nail on the train tracks making my fall and bust my eyebrow open, my knees ached and my hands were bloody, I pulled my self up screaming when I ripped my foot off the nail, the scream alerted near by walkers until they swarmed around me, I was scared and weak, this couldn’t be how I go I still haven’t found Daryl and I had to protect this baby

I gathered as much strength as possible running towards the prison gates, praying they would take me in and help just for today, I made it to the gates exhausted with a trail of walkers behind me when a woman with dreads appeared at the gates

“Please let me in I need help….please I’m begging” I cried holding my belly seeing her eyes soften as she noticed my baby bump, she yanked open the gates right in time to let me in and shut it on the walkers

“Come on hun let’s get you cleaned up” she smiled leading me up to the prison, we almost made it inside when I heard the familiar grumble of the bike I use to ride on all the time, late at night when everyone in town was asleep Daryl would take me out roaming around

I turned my heart leaping every second that passed, until I knew for sure it was him, and it was I could recognize that hair anywhere, he parked the bike and looked around till his eyes landed on me, and he did something I’ve never seen him do before, he dropped to his knees crying

I wobbled over to him still in pain but I didn’t care, I dropped gently to my knees infront of him holding his face in my hands

“I can’t believe I found you Daryl, it’s really you” I weeped as took me shoulders and held me tight against his chest

“I looked for ya everywhere I swear I never gave up, that day when ya weren’t with anyone after the farm it felt like my life was over, but I knew ya were still out there, god I love ya”

“I love you too Daryl, so much”

“Sorry to interrupt this beautiful moment but your girl need some medical attention” that’s when Daryl noticed my busted eyebrow and all the blood over me

He picked me up in his arms bringing me inside to Hershel

“The hell happened to ya angel?” He asked as Hershel attended to my wounds

“I stepped on a nail and fell in just glad I didn’t land on the baby”

“Baby?” Daryl face drained of color standing there frozen

“You didn’t notice? I’m pregnant D” I said flattening down my shirt to make my belly more prominent

“I guess I was just to stunned”

“You seem a lot more healthier than the Lori, how did you manage?” Hershel asked as Daryl came to sit by me squeezing my hand, something he did when he was anxious

“I found a fully stocked house, only just ran out of food today”

“I’d say you’re pretty lucky lil lady, now I’ll give you two some space”

Daryl looked at me with such love mixed with worry

“I can’t believe yer pregnant and it’s mine?” He asked gently rubbing the bump feeling the baby kick

“Of course it’s yours D, you know I’ve only ever been with you, I’ll only ever want you”

“I’ll keep ya both safe, I’ll give ya that dream life ya wanted fer us, I promise”

“I just need you Daryl, I just want you”

[kolyasangel]

oh baby!

synopsis: you have baby fever and nikolai is intrigued...

content: fem!reader, husband!nikolai, fluff, suggestive ending

You don't even know how you got here. You were currently clothes shopping with Nikolai, but you somehow wandered into the baby's clothing section, looking at the small garments.

"There you are. I've been looking for you." Your husband's voice called for you. It didn't take long for him to find you, so he must've already been nearby. You saw he was holding some things, a few plain shirts and a jacket with a black and white checkered pattern draped over his arm. He noticed the jacket caught your eye, so he held it up for you to see and get your opinion on what you thought about it.

"Do you like it? I saw it and I thought it would suit me, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I do! You know, you really own black and white." You chuckled. Nikolai smiled contently and placed the jacket over his arm again before taking the shopping bags you were holding, wanting to hold them for you. His eyes shifted, suddenly aware of his surroundings.

"Sooo, what are you doing here? Do you have something to tell me?" He nudged your shoulder with his elbow.

"No! I'm just- just.. looking around.." You quickly responded, realizing what he meant by his question.

"Looking around? I don't think these clothes will fit you, dove." He playfully teased as he picked up a baby outfit before placing it back on the rack. You didn't miss the slight smile on his face while he looked at the tiny outfit.

As you two left the baby section, you continued to browse leisurely around different shops with Nikolai, hand holding onto his bicep. This surprised him because you usually didn't like showing such affection in public, but he didn't mind at all, of course. In fact, he loved it, but he couldn't help but notice you were being more clingy than usual.

You've already envisioned countless heartwarming scenarios of Nikolai embracing fatherhood. One in particular was your favorite to imagine, a disheveled and sleep-deprived Nikolai tenderly feeding his newborn from a bottle, the baby's tiny hand holding his finger. Others consisted of him buckling up the child in their car seat, dropping them off on the first day of school, making them laugh uncontrollably by smothering their little face in smooches, and many more. You imagined who your child would look like more, maybe Nikolai. The possibility of them inheriting his beautiful eyes filled your heart with immense happiness.

It's not like you didn't want to tell him, but the uncertainty of what he might say kept you on edge, even if you didn't know for sure. What if he doesn't even want kids? What if he says no? You knew you would have to tell him sooner or later though, since it wasn't like he could read your mind. The last time you even remembered Nikolai ever mentioning or interacting with kids was when he said babies look 'squishy' after an encounter in the grocery store where one kept staring and smiling at him in an aisle. You swore you felt the eggs shoot out of your ovaries as you watched that scene unfold. Something about him with a child just looked so right.

Nikolai wasn't clueless. He had already picked up the hints a while ago and realized that you might be contemplating starting a family, but he still wanted to hear the words directly from your mouth. The idea of starting a family excited him, yet it also made him nervous. While he would be more than happy to have children with you, doubts plagued his mind as he feared he wouldn't be a good enough father. Nevertheless, he would be lying if he said he'd never thought about it before. He would be lying if he said a warm feeling didn't grow in his chest whenever he heard you talk fondly about children.

Later that evening, Nikolai suggested he try some of the new clothing he bought in front of you. You agreed and lay on the bed, watching as he removed his shirt each time, leaving him shirtless and just in sweatpants for a short moment before he tried on the next one. You've seen him shirtless many times, but each time left you absolutely breathless.

He tried on the last shirt, and you gulped as it just had to do him so much justice. It was more form-fitting than the previous ones he tried on, his fingers running over the outline of his toned muscles visible through the fabric.

"I think I should only wear this one in front of you," he laughed as he winked at you flirtatiously before sliding the shirt off, leaving him shirtless once again. This time, it would stay that way. He then removed his hair tie and started to unbraid his hair, catching your gaze and offering a teasing smirk. It took everything in you to not push him down on the bed and-

"You like looking at me, don't you?" He raised his arms above his head, clearly wanting to show off his body for you. It almost seemed like he was doing it on purpose, ravishing your thirst for him.

"I'm sorry.." You don't know what you were apologizing for, your mind scrambled at this point.

"For what, dear? Don't be, you can stare all you want! It's all yours anyway." Nikolai seemed confused at your apology, so he swept some hair behind your ear to get a better look at you.

You stayed quiet, contemplating bringing up the topic now or later, now that you felt hot and bothered by his little show.

"What's wrong, dove? You seem to be lost in thought lately," he asked as he joined you in bed.

"I'm just.. thinking about something." You said.

He noticed your nervous demeanor and tilted your chin with his fingers to make you look at him. "Why've you been so shy with me, hm? You can tell me anything, you know I'll never get mad or judge you," he stroked your cheek gently before his hand trailed down to hold yours.

That's right. You always told Nikolai about anything and everything, so why was this any different? No matter what it was you talked to him about, he always made you feel heard. It was only a question after all, so you decided to just let it go and finally tell him.

"Kolya, what do you think about having kids?"

"Oh my! I knew it." He giggled before patting your cheek, amused at your question. You didn't know what kind of reaction you expected from him, but it certainly wasn't this.

"What do you mean?"

"You think I haven't caught onto your hints? You haven't been so discreet with your actions, sweetheart."

You felt a warm flush of embarrassment creeping up your face as you nervously fiddled with your fingers. It felt like a huge weight had just been lifted off your shoulders. He already knows.

"I know it's a major decision, but I feel ready.. and it's okay if you're not yet, I just thought I should let you know," you stammer.

He reached out and planted a soft kiss on your nose before speaking. "Well, I have thought about it before. Honestly, I don't know how great of a father I would be, but the thought of having a mini version of you running around the house sounds like a dream come true."

You felt a pang in your heart as you heard him speak ill of himself falling short of being a good father. The sad look on his face was discernable, it was the same one he had whenever he thought about the horrible actions committed in the past. It still made him shiver at times, regret consuming his mind whenever he sat on the thought for too long before you recognized his despair, rushing to comfort him.

"Nikolai, I don't think you give yourself enough credit. You're not who you used to be."

It was only natural for him to have worries due to his past, but the mere fact that he cared how he may affect you and his future children indicated that he was a changed man, so you made that point very clear to him.

He smiled at your comment and you felt a surge of emotions as he continued, "When I was younger, I never imagined myself getting married, but now I can't imagine having a family unless it's with you."

"Kolya, that's so sweet. I know this is new for the both of us but we'll work through this together. You're already an amazing husband so I have no doubt that you'll be the best father!" You expressed, gently squeezing his hand. A faint rosy hue dusted his cheeks, flustered by your praise.

"Thank you, dove.. and you're going to be such a wonderful mommy." He sighed as he mused about you being a mother to his children. So gentle, so caring, you would just be perfect. He could already see himself peppering your belly with kisses, blabbering on and on to his unborn child about frivolous things. The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't wait.

"What if I wake up in the middle of the night asking you for pickles and ice cream?"

Your adorable question caught him off guard, making him laugh. He imagined the scene happening in his head, and it was too cute for words.

Nikolai wakes up groggily as he feels you shaking his arm, wanting him to fulfill your request. "Kolyaaa.. I'm hungry and I need pickles with ice cream please.."

"Even if you do, I wouldn't mind at all, darling! If you want to eat ice cream with pickles or any other strange combination, then I'll gladly get it for you. I'll even try them with you."

Your eyes glimmered at his sweet response and trailed down to his chest, fingers running across his abs. You were overcome with so much love for him that you felt you couldn't wait any longer, and it seemed like Nikolai could tell.

"Kolya.."

"Hm?"

"I want to make cute chubby babies with you." You pleaded with cute eyes.

"Yeah? Right now?" He asked as he pulled you closer to him, finger hooking onto the strap of your tank top, sliding it off slowly before placing soft kisses on your shoulder. "How many?"

"Mm, one? No, two.."

"How about ten?"

"N-No! Too many."

He snickered and pushed you down onto the bed, climbing on top of you.

"Well then, we better get started if we wanna make those cute babies~"

[elvensorceress]

tuesday teases

Haven’t been around in a million years but the show baited me with delicious Eddie angst. So. Hello lovely little gay people in my phone. Would you like some Tuesday fic teases?

@tizniz @hippolotamus @chaosandwolves @inell @smilingbuckley @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @blutterlie @thelikesofus @ronordmann @dr-shortsighted-owl @lovecolibri @eddiebabygirldiaz @fiona-fififi @thekristen999

Here’s the ridiculous boys after the realtor phone call meeting…

“She probably wasn’t thinking anything one way or the other. She’s just focused on her job and finding us— me. Me, technically. A house.”

No. Not just Eddie. Their house. It would be theirs. Even if Buck isn’t there. Even if he never steps one foot into it. Eddie’s home is still Buck’s home. That won’t change. Ever.

But he can’t say that. How does he say that?

He gets up from the couch and grabs his empty mug. “You still want to make snickerdoodles? Or some other cookie? Or, what did you call it? Cake masquerading as loaf bread?” Eddie doesn’t wait for an answer. He goes into the kitchen and gets out the stash of flour he’s recently acquired.

He stocked up. Just in case. Can’t have the alternative of Buck without his baking.

Eddie sets one of the ten pound bags on the counter then grabs a pack of butter and the carton of eggs from the fridge and finds the measuring cups and spoons in their drawer. The basket Buck made years ago during quarantine is next. It holds the vanilla, the baking powder and soda, various flavored extracts, finishing salt, molasses, packets of instant yeast, chocolate chips, other baking essentials. He takes the jar of cinnamon from the spice rack in the cupboard, goes to put it with everything, but finds Buck staring from the kitchen doorway.

He looks too wistful. Too heartbroken. And all Eddie can offer is a kitchen and ingredients. He doesn’t have anything else.

Was it really that much of a loss? They were only together for six months. Did Buck really want to spend his life with the guy? It couldn’t have been that serious. It never is.

None of the people Buck’s dated are good enough for him.

Maybe Buck isn’t thinking of his ex right now. Maybe he’s thinking about the kid who was like a son to him.

Or the whole Eddie moving to El Paso thing. He seems fine, for the most part. He’s helping. But that’s what Buck does. He helps. He supports. Even when he shouldn’t.

But Buck has bad relationships to get over. He’s not really thinking about Eddie or Eddie’s problems. He’s focusing on a task so that his mind doesn’t wander where it shouldn’t.

Buck would be fine without Eddie. Hell, he’s probably better off. Or he will be.

Eddie asks too much of him. He takes up too much of Buck's time with his issues.

Eddie looks through the little stock pile he’s put together. “Anything else you need?”

Buck looks, stands beside him, and answers, “Sugar?”

Sugar.

Eddie’s stomach twists. It’s not a pet name. It’s an answer. Not a term of endearment. Answer. And of course it slipped Eddie’s mind. Why wouldn’t something that huge and essential be missing from his offering. He should have some though. Buried in the back of the pantry. He finds white, brown, and confectioner’s, and adds them to the supply. “All yours. Whatever you want to make. I’ll run to the store and get more if you need anything. We should have plenty of flour though. I got you five bags.”

Buck’s head snaps toward him. “Five bags? You got me five bags of flour? Like, two pound ones, right? Or the five pounders?”

Eddie shakes his head and gestures. “No, the tens. Like that one.”

“You bought me fifty pounds of flour?”

“Well, you’re the one who decided his coping mechanism was snickerdoodles and sourdough. I’m just being supportive. Since you’re my wingman and I’m yours or whatever you said when you stole my tablet and my realtor call.”

Buck huffs but smirks. “More like saved your call.”

More like saved Eddie’s everything but who’s counting?

[iid-smile]

at home bakery , fushiguro toji

with his daughter ! just fluff, nothing else, mentions of a wife but not necessarily said to be the reader, no name daughter too

author's note: i forgot i made a poll about this omg... idk if i wanna make a pt2 because i completely skipped over the actual baking and just left it open ended + idk if i wanna do x reader

"come up here, lassie." toji picks up his daughter with ease, placing her onto a stool that's high enough for her to reach the counter. "we're gonna be baking before mama gets home."

as he fiddles with the stool, making sure it's secure and stable, she taps at the marbled surface and glances around the kitchen. "what will we bake?" once he stands up straight, she peers up at him with big eyes, filled to the brim with curiosity and anticipation.

he stares at the miniature version of himself, his eyes squinting as he tries to jog his memory. "...what did you want again?" he whispers, half to himself, half directly to her. his memory has been completely used up trying to remember the names of all of her dolls, not that he had much space left to do so in the first place.

"omurice!" no, that wasn't the right answer, but she still clapped in excitement anyways.

"no— careful." he supports her back with a hand when she starts the wobble, not having the heart to scold too much in fear of her getting upset. "that was your breakfast. you told me you wanted dessert didn't you?"

"hmm..." placing a hand on her chin, she starts to think. then it moves down to her skirt, playing with the loose details and buttons. "don't remember..."

"of course..." he mutters under his breath, planting his hands on the edge of the surface. "forget it. i'll make a guess based on what we have here."

luckily, his wife had everything prepped on the counter before leaving for work. milk, flour, sugar, butter; the basics. eggs, yeast... bananas? now, toji may be a smart guy, but he's not the best when it comes to making estimations with such common ingredients like this... plus the addition of a bundle of bananas. "what the hell's this supposed to make?"

"oh!" as if there was a light bulb above her head, she holds her index finger up. "babana bread! i want babana bread!" she reaches out and takes hold of the bundle of bananas.

"banana bread." he corrects. easing the bundle out of her grip, he starts to break one off for her. "and didn't you already have some yesterday?"

it's a vivid memory. he had quite the mess to clean up when you had found the store-bought baked goods in the pantry, and with some (useless) help from her, managed to fix everything up and save him from the wrath of his wife. within minutes too... stressful.

in a fit, her arms swing back and forth, and she tries to put in the most innocent facade she can. "papaaa..."

"what? i'm still going to make it for you." he peels the fruit. "and you can eat this one while you watch."

"not that!" she pouts, stomping her tiny foot. the whine in her voice was an easy way to make him sway, and not being able to handle her sulky looks was an absolute curse. her hands reach up to tug at the material of his shirt. "you needa do the thing, papa!"

"what thing?"

"the thing!"

his eyebrows furrow, and he places the half peeled fruit on the counter. "i—"

"papa!"

"okay, okay." somehow, he seems taken aback, and he raises his arms to surrender. "no need to get loud with me, sweet." on command, he walks over to the doorway of the kitchen, three aprons waiting for him. he takes the first, covered in the word's 'this dad can't cook'. and the third, with the words 'baby princess' on it.

toji puts her apron on first, tying it loosely around the back to prevent safety hazards. as for his, it barely reaches around his waist, but not enough for a knot, so he leaves it hanging. "and?" she looks up at him expectedly.

"papa toji's bakery is..." he reaches up and flips over the makeshift sign hanging on the wall in front of the oven, showing 'closed' to 'open'. "open!"

his daughter's happiness was so potent, so innocent. her hands raise in the air, albeit not that far, and laughs in celebration. "yay!"

[hellishjoel]

playing hooky

9.2k / pairing: linecook!frankie x waitress f!reader

Series Masterlist l Previous Chapter l Next Chapter

summary: Frankie calls in sick for his shift. You simply must investigate. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), mentions of reader previously being on her period, smoking w33d, getting h!gh, swearing, pet names (angel, princess, etc.), handjob if you squint, oral (f! receiving), unprotected p in v, h!gh sex, aftercare, tangled feelings/messy emotions, sitcom vibes

A/N: tune in next time for a special halloween episode of Table for Two! 

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“We’re not at the diner right now, y’know? We can,” he pauses to find the right words, seeming to get lost in the beautiful hue of your eyes. “We can take things slow. Wanna take my time with you.” 

You purse your lips as you scribble another drawing on your order pad. You’re sitting at one of the empty barstools at the counter, one leg lazily swinging back and forth while the other is brought up under you. 

“You’re gonna get hip dysplasia.” Carla, your sarcastic manager, hums as she passes you. She playfully smacks you with her own order pad before she settles down beside you, a loud and tired sigh leaving her ruby-red lips. She rolls her swollen ankles, a side effect of being on her feet all day. A side effect of being alive. 

Your eyes lightly screw together, eyebrows knitting in curiosity. “I thought only animals get hip dysplasia.” You trail off and watch her sit with slight confusion. She parts her lips and takes a breath before her face contorts in thought. 

Finally, Carla reemerged with a new confidence. “No, baby, because my cousin- my second cousin,” she illustrates all of this with her hands. “They were born with it! I swear, look it up.”

You stifle a giggle before you both hover over your phone in search of the truth via Google. That’s when you clock the time. 

Your head swivels to the wall clock and confirms it’s half an hour past five in the evening. “No Frankie tonight?” You ask, eyes still attentive to your phone as you attempt to try and hide any obvious interest or concern. Where the hell was he?

Carla eyed you up and down. Since when did you start caring if Frankie showed up for his shifts or not? She decides not to press it, clearing her throat as she moves off her barstool once she hears the doorbell chime, a new customer sauntering in. 

“Just said he was under the weather. And we don’t need another sick line cook, that’s for damn sure. Everyone would be coughin’ and sneezin’ over their undercooked bacon and runny, nasty eggs.” She said with a little umph at the end for distaste. 

You sigh and nibble on your thumbnail. 

Frankie was a bit of an ass, but he made the shifts go by faster. Yes, even before you started fooling around, he was entertaining. 

Let’s see, there was the night he tried to see how many coffee cups he could stack and if he could make a tower to the ceiling - he tried this multiple times, and each attempt left glazed ceramic shards everywhere, to which Carla made him sweep up.

There was another time the diner needed supplies, and Rudy, the owner’s son, sent you and Frankie on an errand run. He pushed you in the cart through nearly the entire store, in search of toilet paper and paper towels, dish soap, and other amenities. Frankie bought you a Redbull at the end of it. 

Now, more recently, Frankie fucking pavloved you! Like a damn dog! Every time you worked a shift, you got ferociously horny. You had gotten so used to clocking in, working for a bit, then getting your needs met. And now that you had finished serving time being on your period, you were needy for what you missed while you were surfing the crimson wave. 

Your foot, more anxiously now, taps against the metal stand of the barstool you were sitting on, huffing in annoyance hearing that Frankie was ill. The pit in your stomach was already coiling, searching for a release that just wouldn’t be satisfied tonight. Or would it?

You’re not in the back kitchen as much as everyone else, but as the end of your shift wound down and it was nearly ten o’clock, you decided to piece together a panini and a side of fries for Frankie. You thought about how he learned you weren’t feeling good just last week, and he knew how far a simple meal went to make you feel better. Maybe you could do the same for him. And that was it. You swear there were no ulterior motives. Just a nice coworker bringing a bite to eat. 

You yank your phone from your uniform. Your fingerprints smear your phone screen with grease from the fries. 

text me your address if you’re still up

frankie (work) Huh?

You have to will yourself not to roll your eyes. 

read the first message again and ask me if you’re still confused

frankie (work) Okay sassy pants 194 Rivercrest Apartments #501

His stupid reply leaves a broken, twitchy smile on the right side of your mouth. Stupid asshole. 

Once the restaurant closes, your clunky car takes you across town to Frankie’s apartment. Your gleamy, tired vision catches the streaks from passing cars and street lamps. You pull into a visitor parking spot and let out a disgruntled sigh as you sit in silence, waiting in your idling car.

A weird part of you is nervous. Overthinking. Was this taking it too far, helping him out while he’s sick? 

You push aside any nerves and force yourself out of the car, a death grip on the doggy bag of food you had packed him. The evening Texas air tickles your bare legs, trying to adjust your uniform under your jacket after it got smushed around in the car. You buzz his number before you hear the entrance’s lock click, allowing you in. 

Glancing around for an elevator is hopeless. The entrance leads you straight to a set of stairs,  and you clench your jaw in annoyance. God dammit. You were not a woman who prayed to the cardio gods. 

Your lungs feel strained, and your feet ache, desperate to sit down after your shift and the mild hike up to Frankie’s apartment. You rap your knuckles against his door in disdain, lips parted with a few light pants for breath as you wait. The door had a few random dents and marks, obvious trails of someone moving items in and out of the apartment over time. The numbers on his door were crooked, the paint chipped. Did he have to live in such a sketchy place? It looked like the birthplace of tetanus. 

There were a few heavy footsteps on the other side before the door jangled open. And a very healthy, Frankie opened the door. Your face fell, and your eyebrows furrowed. A heavy whiff of weed smacked you in the face, and you swore it nearly gave you a contact high, even from the hallway. 

Frankie was all too happy to see you here. You drove all the way to his apartment just to see him. His face was dripping in a smirky grin. He barely fit through the door frame, his large broad shoulders and tall stature filled the entire rectangular entrance. He crossed his arms and leaned one shoulder against his door. He was perfectly fucking fine. 

“Hey, princess. Surprised to see you-”

Your lips purse and your eyes screw tight as you smack him with his bag of food. “What the hell-” smack, “is wrong with you! Fuckin-” smack, “asshole!” 

He’s slow to defend himself at first, letting you exhaust your hits as you fist the brown paper bag in annoyance. Finally on the last hit, he swipes the bag from your hand and sighs. He’s trying to dial down his stupid smirk, but it ends up turning into this stomach-twisting, sweet smile. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose and chew on the inside of your cheek. “Carla told me you were sick.” 

“I am sick.” Frankie playfully defended, standing straight and shrugging his shoulders with a half-innocent smile. “Sick.. and tired of working.” He laughs at his own joke, and you bite back a smile. Such a fucking dork. 

You’re at a weird standoff outside of his apartment. It’s like he’s holding your invitation to enter over your head, and out of your reach. He wants you to ask. You want him to ask. You’re both so goddamn stubborn. You cross your arms and stand straight, eyeing him down. 

Frankie rolls his eyes, his smile breaking into a larger one as he grabs your wrist and pulls you inside. “So fuckin’ difficult.” You hide your smile as your face lightly glides against his chest, unintentionally inhaling his scent. By the looks of his hair, he was fresh from a shower. 

Frankie closes the door behind you, and his front brushes against your back as you stand in the tiny entrance hallway to his apartment. Music was playing deeper inside. 

His hands gently settle themselves on your arms, slowly coasting his warmth up and down your goosebump-covered skin. You inhale slowly, your back lightly resting back against his front. He was so easy to sink into. But then you remember how he bailed on work today, and you jut your elbow into his gut. He lets out a puff of air at the force you hit him with. 

“You’re such an ass ditching work. Ditching Carla.” You say as you step away from him and invite yourself further in, exiting the dark hallway and working your way further into the apartment. “We had to make do-it-all Paul step into the kitchen. Do you know how terrifying that is? Such a dick, Frankie.” 

“And you’re so sweet for bringin’ me food.” You hear him rifle through the paper bag, digging out his packaged food, and seeing him smile at the contents. “Thanks. You shouldn’t have.” He brushes past you and towards the kitchen while you stand in the living room. 

You didn’t concern yourself much with Frankie up until recent events, it was odd to see his evil lair. Okay, he wasn’t evil, but you know what I mean. You take in as many important details as you can while you slowly peel off your jacket and toss it on his couch. 

It’s quaint, really. He has no other furniture in the living room besides a couch, which you feel is by design. It sits perfectly opposite his mounted flatscreen. The walls are plain beige but are decorated with band and movie posters. You admire one that was purposely framed, unlike the others, with signatures. You didn’t recognize the band, but by their look, they seemed like an 80s rocker group. 

Below his flatscreen was an impressive vinyl collection, a record spins, and you recognize it as the melody you initially heard upon entering. It was serene, jazzy almost. 

“This is what you listen to when you’re alone?” You tease, kneeling down and flicking through a few album covers to see his taste. It was expansive, to say the least. There were only a fair few that you recognized. TOTO, ABBA, Billy Joel, Bruce Springsteen, Metallica, a little Van Halen, and a whole lot of The Beatles. 

Frankie sucks the salt from the fries off his fingers, seeing he’s already munched on half his panini. “It’s something I listen to when I’m stoned.” He half-jokes, a slight smile on his face. So that’s what he’s been up to. 

“You called in so you could lay around your apartment and get high all day?” Your tone is playfully judging, but he gives you a proud nod, not a care in the world behind those slightly glazed eyes. 

“I didn’t really lay around all day.” His tone is softer since you’re both so close. He’s standing just to the right of where you’re kneeling down, your head could lay against his thigh if you wanted. “I was trying out some new recipes and shit.” He mutters as he points a thumb behind him and to the kitchen. You glance up and notice his pretty curls in the light. You don’t often see him without his hat or his bandana. Come to think of it, you don’t really see him outside of his yellow-stained apron. 

Your eyes slowly took Frankie in, seeing him casually for the first time outside of work was startling. He was big. Tall and broad, with squishy thighs and a soft tummy, strong arms, and defined biceps. He was comfortably relaxing in a pair of black basketball shorts that landed just above his knees, eyeing a few tattoos by the hem. On his upper half was a tattered, well-loved Lakers shirt with a small tear at the shoulder, which has since been sewn closed. He had a little bracelet on, one of those leather brown ones that twisted around his wrist, accompanied by a spherical, multicolor beaded one. 

Your eyes linger for a hair too long, and now he’s already smirking at you. “Like what you see, princess?” God, that stupid fucking nickname needed a break. Heat shoots up your spine nonetheless, and you have trouble staring daggers at him like you usually would. 

You huff a breath through your nose and stand up on your feet, raising your eyebrow at him. “What do you mean you trying new recipes? You can actually cook?” It sounds rude and sarcastic, but you thought Frankie just goofed around at work and cooked for the cash, not as a hobby. You slowly make your way past him, eyeing his kitchen in the process. 

There are recipe books, honest to god recipe books. Big ones, small ones. Different categories of food outlined on the covers and spines. And his kitchen was a chaotic mess, with multiple cutting boards of varying sizes across his already limited counter space. There were bright-colored vegetables cut up and diced, the scraps having been tossed in a spare plastic bag sitting on the sidelines. There was an open bottle of soy sauce and another for sesame oil, a little tin of cornstarch, and diced chicken sizzling in oil on a frying pan. 

You take a few steps in further, your sneakers landing on linoleum as you really smell what’s simmering in a large skillet. Mushrooms, bell peppers, green onions, broccoli, and peas are cooking in a thick sauce, coating them amidst freshly minced garlic onion.  Your lips part as you inhale, and you can’t believe it. You don’t even know what it is, but it smells heavenly.

You finally have to ask, because hunger is carving a hole in your stomach. “What are you making?”

Frankie parks his hands on his hips and looks at you with knitted eyebrows. “What? You’ve never had stir fry before?” 

You purse your lips and reach for the spatula, looking to Frankie for reassurance, to which he nods his head. Go for it. 

You smile as the vegetables sizzle once you push them around on the pan, relishing in the attention as you allow the other less glazed vegetables to catch some heat from the burner. Frankie hums, like he’s debating something, like he’s learned something from his little experimentation. He reaches past you, his front brushing against your shoulders as he reaches around you and adds a little brownish-amber liquid to the pan. It sizzles, splashes, and dances across the different vegetables, which makes you grin. 

You were never big into cooking, especially since you started working at Tommy’s Diner. You’ve seen enough grease to last a lifetime. You were fine settling in on the couch with a bowl of cereal and a glass of cheap wine. You saved making extravagant dishes for when you had a date over, and even then, that was risky. 

But there was something about Frankie actually knowing how to cook cuisine that you liked. “I didn’t know you knew how to make dishes besides burgers and fries.” 

He sneers and rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling the entire time and lets you continue slowly shifting the vegetables around, watching as the glaze sizzles. “I didn’t know you cared enough about me to visit me at my apartment. We’re both a bit surprised tonight.” This was your worst nightmare. 

“I only came here under the impression that you were sick-”

“So you came to my aid?”

“Psh,” You huff, “You wish. But no.” You insist more forcefully, setting the spatula down and turning to face Frankie, who is all too close to you. You lose a lot of your angry traction as his hand finds your hip, feeling his fingers flip to the stovetop’s burner switch to a lower setting. 

His hands navigate you away from the oven, your back flushed against his counter now. His eyes trail you, grazing over your body as his hips now plant you in one spot. You swallowed a lump in your throat, your still resisting hands planting against his chest. You can feel his cock twitch against your thigh. 

You can’t explain why your fingers twitch and start to clutch his shirt, pulling him a little closer. Stupid Frankie with his goading smirk, bringing his forehead down against yours. It was so hot in his kitchen, in the middle of summer. You feel a bead of sweat sprout behind your ear and lightly glide down your neck as you flutter your eyes closed. It wasn’t often you felt your power to resist him rendered useless, but tonight you felt like he had a quite literal home-field advantage. 

“You want me to stop?” He asks, voice low and lust-drenched. His leg parts purposely between yours, jutting them open and spreading what was his. 

Your throat is closed off, the lack of air draining from your busy head. “I..” Your words fall off, distracted by something scampering through the living room.

“Do you have a cat?” Your eyes light up as you slink past Frankie. He found your stray of attention a bit adorable, despite being given a slight case of blue balls. 

You carefully padded out of the kitchen and into the living room, using the excuse to slip off your sneakers at the entrance. The small orange cat had curled up onto Frankie’s couch by your tossed jacket from earlier, forming a perfect circle amongst all of its tangerine fluff. Its eyes were closed serenely, absent of a new presence. It was fucking adorable, in short. 

Frankie was still flummoxed in the kitchen, adding the cooked chicken into the stir fry before turning the burner off and putting his masterpiece aside. “That’s Leo.” He announces, Frankie’s voice carrying annoyance that he lost a sure thing in the kitchen. Now you were cooing over his cat. 

He settles two bowls on the counter and adds the stir fry to each, a few splashes of the sauce splattering around the rim of the bowl. With two forks randomly stabbed into the piles of food, he walks one of them out to you. “Could have eaten this whole thing by myself.”

You smile, taking the offering and humming as you flop on the couch, the orange tabby finally peeking its eyes open. “I don’t doubt that, so thanks for sharing.” You recognize how he had eaten the panini and fries, and he was still excited over the stir fry. Poor guy probably had the munchies like crazy. 

With the kitty taking up one of Frankie’s couch cushions, he’s forced on the end with you in the middle. He sets his food aside on a spare side table and reaches for a small pipe, your breath pausing at the sight. “You want a hit?” He asks.

His face glows orange as he flicks on the lighter, spreading the flame over the green, now black, substance in the tiny bowl. He inhales, and you watch in mystification as he takes in the smoke filtering through. Your heart thumps harder in your chest, the right side of your mouth twitching up in a sly smirk. 

Let’s smoke weed with Frankie Morales tonight. 

He lets out a labored breath, the smoke flying loosely in the air and creating hazy grey circles that flood the ceiling before disappearing altogether. The stench fills the small apartment rather quickly. 

“I get really weird dreams after I smoke.” You whisper, biting down on your lower lip as you glance down at the pipe he’s holding, a small glow still coming from the weed. 

“It’s still lit if you want some.” His voice is low from smoking, and you have to clench your thighs closer together. Damn this stupid uniform, you wished you would have brought a change of clothes so you’d at least be comfy eating stir fry, petting his cat, and getting stoned with him. 

He raises the piece in an offering, and you look to him for one last look of reassurance. It’s polite to be offered free weed, especially since he’s the one who paid for it. He gives you a nod and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. Are you crazy? If you want it, take it. 

So you do. And you smoke it. And you pat yourself on the back to do so without coughing. It’s a small hit, but you don’t need much, your brain already feels like it’s as light as a cloud, dancing in slow motion. You giggle by accident. 

Frankie lets out a sputter of laughter, watching you get high with him is a bit comical. “Princess knows how to smoke. Kudos.” 

You let out a puff of laughter through your nose and grab your warm bowl of stir fry, stabbing into a green pepper. “Shut up, Frankie.” 

He ends up putting on a show you both agree on, something comical that makes you both laugh your high asses off. You eat the stir fry and almost forget Frankie is the one who made it. It was delicious, you ate everything down the the finely chopped green onions. 

You both shared another hit, and you felt like you were loosening up. Any need to hold onto control slipped through your fingers. Any issues you had been dealing with drifted away. And you realized how stupidly happy you were to be beside Frankie. Trying to do anything of actual initiative went out the window after your second hit. You both found yourselves on the floor of Frankie's room, sat side by side, heads resting on the edge of his bed as you both stared up at the ceiling and spoke gibberish. 

“Aliens?” He asks, your thighs brushing. 

“Of course.” You hum, slowly blinking in a gentle haze. “Ghosts?”

He sighs and takes a long time to answer, which apparently offends you because you snap your head up and look at him in disbelief. 

“You can’t be serious. If you believe in aliens, you have to believe in ghosts.” You argue as you stare at his fan. 

He lets out a throaty groan, closes his eyes, and runs his hands down his face. His curls are pretty. They haven’t been run through a million times yet or smothered by a bandana or hat. 

“I think… I do believe in ghosts. I just don’t want them to bother me.” He says, a weak smile on his face. 

“What? Like you’re afraid to be haunted?” Your head lays back on the bed but rolls over, watching his profile while he continues to look up absentmindedly at the ceiling. 

He’s silent for far too long. Finally, he rolls his head over to face you, your noses lightly brushing. He’s so close that looking at him feels a bit cross-eyed. 

“Wait- what? Sorry.” He finally says with a broken, short laugh. 

“Can you focus?” You ask teasingly, pushing your hand up against his cheek and making him stop staring at you. 

You take the soft silence as an opportunity to rest your hand lightly on his thigh. He does the same, except he feels the warmth of your skin and the material of your uniform. Goosebumps form shortly after, and you smile shyly up at the ceiling. 

“Have you…” You start to say but trailed off, bashfulness overcoming you. 

“Have I what?” He asks. You both blink slowly as a car’s lights flash through his window only for a few seconds, lighting up the dim room before it is filled with darkness again. The moon and an orange lava lamp was the only source of glow. 

You distractedly look away from him, admiring a tapestry on his wall and his soft comforter. “Have you had sex with someone high?” 

He shrugs and slowly smiles before gently nodding his head against the edge of his bed. “Yeah. Have you?” His head rolls over to look at you again. You feel his warm gaze, but you just keep your eyes locked on his ceiling fan. 

Warmth and a subtle shyness flush across your chest, your thighs nearly trembling in excitement. “No.” You whisper. 

He doesn’t say anything, but he watches you for a few moments. 

“Want to, though.” You finish, feeling a knot slowly grow in your stomach. 

Frankie’s eyes flick to your long lashes, then down to warmth creeping up your neck. “Yeah?” He asks.

You gently nod, too, eyes still too shy to meet his own. “Yeah-” 

He doesn’t let you get out one more syllable. His large hand comes up and meets your cheek, guiding your head to meet his gaze.

Frankie kisses you deeply but at a slow pace. And you’re feeling a desperate hunger to have him. You eagerly cup his cheeks in return and swing a leg over his lap, intensifying the kiss as your hands glide down the landscape of his clothed chest, bunching up his shirt in the process. You feel like a horny jackrabbit, but it’s really all his fault. You can feel his half-hard cock as you grind the center of your pelvis over his own, whimpering into his mouth desperately.

“Take care of me,” you whisper, and it ends up sounding a little more like a desperate, whiney plea. 

Frankie’s lips part against your own, feeling the neediness of your touches. His hazy vision peers open, breaking your kiss for a moment. 

“Hold on, baby,” He sits up a little bit against the bed, his eyes scanning yours with a certain deepness. 

You pause, your chest heaving lightly as you regain your breath. “Frankie, come on, don’t make me beg.” You say as you lean in once more, but he catches your face and pauses your movements. You feel like a deer in headlights, static tingling in your ears as you feel a sudden rush for embarrassment. Why wasn’t he just as excited? Or eager? Or desperate? Were you the problem?

Suddenly, your eyes were dashing around for an escape. Then he speaks your name. Soft, gentle, careful. Hear him out. You swallow your pride and stay seated over his lap. 

“We’re not at the diner right now, y’know? We can,” he pauses to find the right words, seeming to get lost in the beautiful hue of your eyes. “We can take things slow. Wanna take my time with you.” 

You can’t help but let an awkward chuckle escape between you, eyes having a hard time meeting his. You playfully scoff and smack his shoulder lightly to regain a sense of control. “Shut up, Frankie.”

His head cocks, and he looks at you with that stupid fucking smirk. “You don’t know how to take it slow, do you?” 

His words antagonize you, and your eyes light with fire. A defensive fire, because he was right. 

Slow meant feelings, slow meant experiencing, slow meant bonding. You weren’t slow. Sex was supposed to be fast, hot, desperate, counting down the seconds until a sweet escape, racing to an orgasm, chasing it like a fever dream. You weren’t good at slow. 

You hate that Frankie has learned this about you. Giving up the upper hand wasn’t in your caliber. And you find yourself frowning as you look down at him once his smirk washes away. He’s looking at you like he cares. Even with you both stoned, brain’s hazy and light, he sees through all that and looks at you like he gives a damn. 

He lightly shrugs his shoulders and softens the hold he has on your face, his thumb gently stroking along your cheekbone. “Can show you.” 

Hesitancy screams across your blank face, but he reads you better than anyone else. He speaks your name, more genuinely explaining his offer. “Let me teach you.” 

You let out a gentle sigh, slowly giving in to temptation. Because having him at all was better than not. So you take it slow. Frankie teaches you zen. Teaches you how to melt. 

One of his hands falls from your cheek and lands on your waist, gently stroking your hip in a soothing slow circle. It feels like heaven. 

His brown orbs dip close, and you let him take the lead. He kisses you tenderly, soft. His tongue lines your lower lip once he’s ready to lightly increase the intensity, begging your mouth for permission to part. If it was any other night, your tongue would be down his throat, and you’d be a grinding, sloppy mess in his lap. Let him teach you.

You take a deep breath in as your tongues tangle. 

It almost makes you giggle again, because it feels stupid, but you sort of like it. 

His stubble brushes your face, and you fight to release a moan. Frankie’s hand on your hip shuffles to your lower back, and you feel him add pressure. Your chest meets his, and you let yourself melt into him. His strong torso easily keeps you both up. Your heavy breaths hit the room, and you force yourself to pull away for air, despite how much you enjoy making out with him. He grins at the sight of satisfying you. 

Frankie pushes a stray hair that’s fallen out from your loose ponytail behind your ear, smiling as his hands move to the back of your uniform. This will be the first time he actually undresses you properly, not just shoving the material up past your ass so he has access to your pussy. 

“You know how to work the zipper?” You playfully ask as you settle your head on his shoulder, taking the slower moments to breathe and relax. 

He stuffs down a chuckle and nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I think so. Am I doing it right?” He asks as he guides the zipper down your back, feeling your flesh exposed to the rest of his room. 

You purse your lips and slowly sit up in his lap, watching him take in a deep inhale as your centers brush lightly. You hide your coy smile as his eyes light with excitement, but he’s made a point to be slow with you. You guide the sleeves of your uniform down to your hips, exposing your breasts to him. Giggles leave your mouth as you wiggle out the last bit of your dress, Frankie is more than happy to help you. 

“I’m feeling a little alone here.” Your voice is soft, tugging at his shirt before you push it up just past his pecs. Your high ass got a little distracted, staring at the hair sprinkled in dark trails across his torso, feeling him struggle in his shirt as he laughed. 

“Focus, princess,” his arms tangle with his shirt before he tosses it off, especially since you started slacking. You shyly smile and flutter your eyes down to his warm body as your hands explore the landscape for the first time. You had yet to undress each other like this, you sort of liked it, especially with this whole slow and steady thing going for you both. 

Frankie leans back against the bed, admiring the sight before him. You feel a little awkward, goosebumps rushing up your arms as you shyly smile and playfully push his face away. “Stop staring, perv. You’ve never seen a pair of tits before?”

He’s quick. “Not a pair that nice.” 

You smile and crack out a laugh, knowing sex has never felt this casual before. No pressure. Good vibes. And it’s not just because of the weed. It’s because it’s Frankie. And he looks at you like you put the sun in the sky and you could do no wrong. But then he starts staring at your tits, and you realize he’s just another guy. 

His hands caress your waist, thumbs dipping into the curves and appreciating the way they run up you like beautiful rivers. You decide to do the same. Your hands slip lower, letting his happy trail guide you to his black mesh basketball shorts. His rough and calloused hands cup your tits, taking them in his palms and giving you a tentative squeeze. He’s figuring you out, what you like, what makes you squirm and whine. As soon as he pinches your nipples between his thumbs and pointer fingers, a broken gasp is elicited from your mouth. 

“Shit,” you curse breathily. Everything was a bit heightened right now, including your sensitivity. It felt like a million little strums were being played, making your spine shiver and your head grow foggy. And you were determined to make him feel the same way. 

You bite down on your lower lip, fishing your hand into his shorts and fisting a hand around his already hardening cock. A smirk tangles on your lips as he lets out an earthy grunt, low to the ground and heaven to your ears. 

You start a bit fast, eager to please, wanting to see him tremble for your touch.

His lips meet yours in a distracting manner, rocking your steady pace. “Slow.” He murmurs against your lips, and you gently nod, a shy smile spreading from embarrassment.

“Slow.” You whisper, your lips brushing his. Your ego trips on the power you have over him, fisting him, his heavy length weighing in your hand. You couldn’t even fully wrap your fingers around him, he was all just… girth. Your body ached for him, needy for the feeling only he could satisfy by being inside of you. His tip trickles with precum, and a low moan drips off his tongue like honey. It fuels you. 

“Spit on my cock, princess.” He grunts out, his face leaning in to capture one of your nipples in your mouth. You squeak lightly in excitement before doing just as he asks of you. 

You angle your head over your centers, letting a long line of saliva puddle down onto him. It meets the strokes of your hand, and Frankie’s jaw twitches as he squeezes your breasts involuntarily harder.  You let out a long whine as your nipples form peaks between his fingers, feeling your heart thrum against your chest. 

Frankie likes how you look on top. Back arched, chest pushed up, messy hair falling loose, eyes lit with an eagerness and curiosity for him to teach you the method of going slow. Admiration mixed with respect. He feels like he’s dreaming. 

All he can imagine is you like this, bodies in sync, riding his cock. Tight walls milking his cock for everything he has. His skin becomes riddled with goosebumps, thinking about your nails digging into his chest, your tits rocking up and down, how he would tumble out moans of your name and squeeze your hips with adoration. Yeah, he’d like to see that one day. 

He’s not sure how much longer he can last with merely your hand on him. 

“C’mere, baby.” 

A gasp of surprise jumps from your throat before you can stop it, Frankie managing to stand up off the ground, wrapping your legs around his waist for security. His strength, how easily he lifts you and shuffles you around like a ragdoll spurs white hot heat in your stomach. You were going to fuck him good if you ever got past the going slow part. 

His smirky mouth meets yours in a hot kiss, one heavier than before. Like he’s needy for you. Your eyes melt closed as your fingers wind into the pretty curls that were formed at the nape of his neck. Your back meets his mattress and blankets, your fingers dance along the pattern, your high mind hypnotized seeing Frankie on top of you. 

His body rests between your parted legs. You whimper into his mouth, feeling his hardened cock resting against your core. 

“Take my fucking panties off,” you beg more than you mean to. 

Frankie tries not to sneer. His teeth capture your lower lip, and you mewl out a moan before he lets you go. 

“To hell with going slow.” 

You hastily nod, feeling his fingers grip your panties at either side of your hips before he shuffles them down. You whine with how the sticky center stays latched to your core, he gently peels it loose with a hellish smirk. 

Frankie’s heart thrums against his chest and echoes into his ears. Hearing you desperate for his touch was heaven, he felt undeserving to have such an angel vying for his attention. “So wet f’me, barely touched you, princess.” 

He discards your panties to the side, off on the floor with the rest of the clothing you both have shed. You’re completely naked together, makes you a little nervous. 

Frankie promised to speed up, but you’re finding harmony in the way his soft lips trail down your body, leaving wet prints between the valley of your breasts to the soft skin of your stomach. Your breaths come out heavier, thighs shaking as he drops back down to kneel at the edge of the bed. His hands grip your thighs and yank you impatiently closer to his eager mouth. You whimper as your body is shuffled closer, your fists that were clutching the sheets being torn away. 

You giggle as your thighs shake around his head, feeling those perfect kisses move between the warmth of your legs. 

“Fuck,” you finally let out, excitement seeping through your bones. Frankie’s stubble drags across the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, and again, you feel that heightened sensitivity that makes your stomach roll. 

Frankie decides that dragging out the teasing is enough. He wanted to taste you, every mile, every inch, every centimeter. 

Your core glistens in his eyeline, begging to be touched, kissed, fucked. He can’t help but dive in. His dopey brown eyes meet yours as his face disappears lower and lower before he’s past the valley of your tits, and all you can see when you crane your neck are those mocha brown eyes. 

His tongue tastes you, and divides your folds, as he laps up your juices. 

The feeling is exhilarating, like the rise and fall of a roller coaster. 

A gasp riddles its way up through your throat, concaves your chest, and your pupils blow wide in excitement. Frankie enjoys your taste but aims to pleasure. His mouth latches onto your sensitive clit and suckles, his tongue intervening every few swipes to flick across your clit. Rise. 

His large hands grip the outside of your thighs, pinning your lower half to his mattress, and lapping over you in a heated race to the finish line. Your face contorts in pleasure, fingers drifting down your stomach before you wind them in Frankie’s hair. He growls against your pussy, you’ve never felt your blood pump faster. Fall. 

“Fucking- Christ,” you push out, gripping his hair strands tighter and making him grunt hot heat against your core. “Feels so fucking good- oh my god,”

He pulls away for a breath and sucks a love bite into the sensitive flesh of your thigh until it swells pink and purple. One of his hands on your outer thighs wraps around the shell of your body, playing with your clit. He slowly shakes his head as he looks at you. You wonder if he shares your hazy vision. The pleasure makes you feel like you’re seeing double. 

“Christ isn’t making you feel good,” his words make you whimper, “I am.”

You quickly nod, but you realize your body can’t move quickly under the influence. You’re just hazily bobbing your head, your hand in his hair dropping to his strong bicep. 

“Frankie, I need you,” you plead as you gently sit up on your elbows and cup his cheek, wiping your glistening slick off his pretty bottom lip. “Need you inside of me.” You whisper, a desperate look splashed across your face. 

You hated how much power he had over you. He almost just made you cum from playing with your clit. You need him biblically, fully, flesh and blood, blood to bone. It was carnal, primal. 

He doesn’t need much further convincing. Frankie preferred to pull an orgasm from going down on you, but he listened to your needs and what you wanted. 

His lips meet yours in a hungry kiss, working you further up the bed and letting you collapse into his pillows. Your eyes catch the sight of a dream catcher while his tongue tangles with yours. You flush at the taste of your own arousal. That’s when you realize his hand is still between your thighs and working soothing circles into your clit. 

You whimper as he adds a tad bit more pressure, and you feel the white-hot heat of adrenaline making your stomach pool even more excitement into your tummy. 

“Frankie,” you whisper softly, and his forehead rests over yours while he guides his shaft to your center. 

He lines his tip up and down between your folds, your jaw dropping as he sickeningly uses your slick to lube himself. He lets his entire shaft rest against your sex, and he does slow thrusts back and forth, lining his entire cock with you. Holy fuck. A shiver was sent up your spine, goosebumps parading across your body. 

Your chest swelled for him. 

“What do you say?” He asks in a taunt, knowing how weak you are. 

You huff and move your hands up his arms and hang them loosely around his shoulders. He complies in moving in closer. 

“Please.” You finally admit between gritted teeth, which makes him grin. 

“Alright, princess,” his forehead now rests against your temple, cocking his chin down to get a better angle of your centers. He guides his tip to your entrance, slow and patient, before he notches himself inside of you. 

Your eyelashes flutter, and you watch as his eyes clench closed. He likes to act all tough like he wouldn’t fold for you, but you know he would time and time again without having to say more than a simple please. 

Both of you share unsteady breaths. It feels like a dam is giving way inside your chest. 

Frankie thinks how he has never been inside a tighter pussy, squeezing the last bits of air from his lungs. 

Your walls pulsate around the intrusion, but your dripping core and his wet tongue from earlier allowed him to slowly push in, inch by inch. 

You swallow a lump in your throat. You don’t realize your eyes are closed, and you're gripping him around the neck to keep him close until he sponges a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Alright?” He forces out. It’s like you’re choking him, and it makes you twitch up a smile. 

“Mhm,” you muster up, feeling his chest rumble lightly with laughter. 

“Baby,” he whispers, and your chest surges at the pet name. “Can’t breathe.” Oh, shit. You damn near had him in a headlock.

You loosen your grip around his neck, shyly smiling as your desperate hands look for something to ground you. 

Frankie stays flushed inside you but shifts to be more centered over your body, gently resting his forehead just above yours. 

“C’mere,” he whispers before he takes your hands. You decide not to question why he interlocks your fingers. But it feels safe, and you’re still high, so you’ll blame any poor decision-making on that. 

“Fuck me,” you finally grit out, desperate for him to just fucking, “Move.” 

Your whine is met by him reeling back his hips, only for him to plow right back into you at an unforgiving rate. A gasp ripples through your throat, and you feel like screaming. Your entire goddamn body was on fire with the way his girth parted your walls, splitting you open. You let out a string of whimpery moans, and your eyes glared desperate daggers into him. 

“S’what you wanted, right?” He grunts out, jaw tight, pretty curls falling limply in front of his eyes and crowding his forehead. “You wanna be fucked hard, is that it?” He can barely speak authoritatively, you’re squeezing him like your last lifeline. 

But he’s right. Tears cloud your vision, and you weakly nod as desperate puffs of air leave your pretty parted lips. “Yes,” you squeak out, relaxing your hips so Frankie falls into you more. 

“Feels so fucking good, can’t-” An eager cry leaves your lips as he pulls himself out, just to thrust right back in and rocking you further up his bed. Your chin tips to the ceiling as you curse every god, man, woman, whoever the hell created Frankie Morales. 

“Can’t what, princess?” His tone is lower, sinister even as your walls twitch around him but only gush out more arousal for his cock to slide in and out of you. 

You find it hard to string together syllables. So he squeezes your hands that you’re holding for dear life. He stills inside of you until you answer. 

“Shit,” you whimper. 

“Can’t what, angel?” He probes again, cocky asshole waiting for his answer. 

You whimper and peek open your eyes. The right side of his face is highlighted silver from the moon, your hazy vision thinks he looks like an angel. His hand wanders between your centers and finds your throbbing clit, making you cry out the answer. Your face crumbles as you own up to what you need to say. 

“Fuck! Fuck, Frankie! Can’t go without your dick,” you pant out as he subtly rocks into you at a good pace upon your confession. “Can’t even go- can’t even go a week without it,” you admit in defeat. 

That stupid, cocky smirk of his graces his parted lips. It’s crooked and perfect, and he’s fucking you like your life depends on it. Because it does, you think. 

His thighs clap against your ass, pounding you into the bed, drilling you into place, suffocating the air from your lungs.

Your vision goes hazy, seeing white, then rainbow, then stars. They cloud your vision, and you’re not sure if you’re still high off the weed anymore. Or just high off Frankie. 

You whimper strings of his name tangled with profanity, he’s still filling you to the brim. It once seethed hot with pain, but now your stomach is contorting in pleasure. It’s like he knows exactly how to crack your vault, penetrating your walls, unlocking something deep inside of you that no one else manages to know the code. 

His messy fingers continue to circle your clit, and you know your end is coming. 

Frankie’s grunting with every thrust, moaning a symphony of your name every chance he gets. He likes holding your hand, resting his sweaty forehead against your own, listening to you beg for his cock, for your finish. It’s the only thing he wants to give you. He’d be at your every beck and call if you let him. He wouldn’t mind if the only thing he ever got was a fraction of your praise. 

Frankie’s thighs clap against your ass, the sound echoes around his bedroom. If his neighbors didn’t know his name, they did now. 

“Fuck! Frankie!” You cry out, feeling every inch of his cock massage your insides. His tip kisses your cervix, and your jaw drops. Nothing more comes out of your mouth, so your blown-out eyes do all the talking. 

I’m so fucking close.

“I know, baby, feels good, doesn’t it?” He grunts as his balls slap against you. “Feels good having my fat fucking cock inside you, huh?” 

You shake under him, your thighs clench around his hips, and you pray to the gods for making Frankie. You take back what you thought before, you need him. 

You don’t care that he’s a little older, that he’s an asshole, that he eggs you on. 

Because in the shelter of his bedroom, locked in your embrace, he swallows your name and persuades you into pleasure, time and time again. 

Your clit tingles, and your walls furiously clench around him. Finally, your mouth finds words to try and elaborate on what you’ve been holding inside. 

“Fucking- shit! Fuck me harder, right there- fuck me, Frankie! God- I’m coming!” You cry out as his pants fill your space, fanning across your face. He fucks you harder and faster as you near your orgasm, wanting to help you reach it. And he gets you there.

Your back arches, and he groans lowly as he stills inside of you. It’s almost beautiful the way you cum in unison. 

Your hands hold his tighter, and he reciprocates by squeezing gently. I’m right here, I’m here, baby. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there, still. Your hips get a little achy. He feels you twitch and knows it's time to let you go. 

A gentle whimper leaves you as he pulls out. You feel a bit empty, a little cold.

His sweet laughter makes you peek open your eyes. He’s trying to move out from around you, but you haven’t let go of his hands. 

You shyly let go, and both of you squeeze your hands to flex the knotted muscles and stiff knuckles. You close your legs and lightly curl up. He doesn’t come to rest, he gently pats your outer thigh once or twice before he disappears to his bathroom. 

You think he couldn’t have been gone for more than thirty seconds, but he comes back in a fresh pair of boxers and his basketball shorts, his tanned torso still exposed for your viewing. 

“Frankie,” he pauses like a deer in headlights as he stands up from grabbing your panties. “I’m gonna… spill.” You finally pitch out, a bit embarrassed. 

“Oh,” he says, feeling like an idiot. He circles back to the bathroom and grabs a towel and a wet washcloth. 

“Sorry, my brain is all-” he starts to say, but you quickly shake your head. 

“I know me too. S’okay.” You whisper with a smile as you weakly sit up on your elbows. The record playing in the living room had stopped. He shimmies the towel under your hips before he aids you with a clean washcloth. 

Feels too domestic, so you take over, much to his annoyance. You wrap yourself in the towel once you’re done, and sit up to retrieve your uniform. You dread putting it on. 

“Can I take the towel for the way home? My underwear is still too..” you trail off. Soaking wet was the words you would have used. 

Frankie’s face screws up in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together. 

“You’re going home?” 

Now your expressions match. “Yeah?” It sounds more like a guess than a statement. “What else would I do?”

Frankie shifts back and forth on his feet before he sits down beside you on the bed. “Dunno. Stay here.” 

You take in a hesitant breath, and he feels it. “You shouldn’t drive home, you know. You’re stoned. And tired. Don���t need you falling asleep at the wheel or some shit.” 

You frown. Staying here does sound nice. Thinking about going down those five flights of stairs with your jelly legs sounds like a walk to hell. 

But there’s a certain rule about sleeping over. One you don’t want to cross. You and Frankie are just fooling around. Nothing more. 

“I don’t know, Frankie.” You say with a small frown, tightening the towel around you even more. His sullen look deepens at your words. He doesn’t want to overly convince you. If you want to go, he doesn’t want to stand in your way. 

You chew on your bottom lip and weigh your options. You don’t want to go down the stairs. You’re tired as fuck, and you don’t want to get pulled over or something else. And you really don’t want to put your uniform back on. And you want to stop trying to put issues in your own way when you really just want to stick around. But the decision is made for you. 

“Stay.” 

Your eyes meet his. He’s more certain now, going after what he wants. 

“Stay the night, it won’t kill you. I’ll get you something more comfortable to wear, and you can just…” he trails off and shrugs. 

“Stay?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. He nods. 

You sigh loudly but inevitably smile as you point to his closet. “I need a shirt. Please.” 

A big smile glides across his face, and you can’t believe you’re the one who put it there. 

“Alright, princess, whatever you say.” He squeezes your thigh and stands up, his back to you as he fishes through his closet and smells a few shirts to see how clean they are. 

You roll your eyes and sigh as you fall back into his pillows. 

You change into something clean, you hope it’s clean, and end up curling into a protective ball under his covers. 

His cat, Leo, circles up by your feet, and you coo, gently stroking the pretty fur along his back. Frankie retrieves two glasses filled with water and hands you one. You instantly take a few gulps before your hand gently strokes down the shirt he’s put you in. It swims a bit on you, but you like it. The hem hangs at your thighs. 

“Can you get in here?” You ask impatiently. “M’getting chilly.” You whisper with a coy smile. 

Frankie blows out a few candles in his living room and finishes putting away any leftover stir fry. 

Your high has worn off, and now you’re just a sleepy little thing. A long shift plus getting railed would be your new nighttime sleep aid. 

Now that the apartment is drenched in darkness, he pulls back the covers and moves in beside you. Cuddling was not an option. He spoons you, yanking you halfway across the bed and out of your little ball. His warm flesh meets your back, and you hum at the feeling. He was a furnace. His head settles above yours, you feel the stubble gently poke at your hair. Your eyes are already closed as his arm wraps around your waist, an affirming hand settling on your tummy. He must need skin-to-skin contact because his hand slips under the shirt he’s put on you and settles on the warm skin by your belly button.  

You let out a short little laugh. “You do this with all the girls you sleep with?” 

“No.” He quickly says, and your eyes peek open. 

“No?” You ask curiously. 

“No. Just all my coworkers I sleep with.” You roll your eyes and reach around to slap the back of your hand against his hip, forcing out a chuckle from him. 

“M’kidding.” He somehow pulls you closer. Your head rests comfortably on his bicep, the cold tip of your nose warmed by his flesh. 

Questions pour out of your stupid brain. Were you the only one he was sleeping with? If you weren’t, who else was there? Was this normal to him, cuddling after a friends-with-benefits situation? Did Frankie want something more? 

You sigh and close your eyes, attempting to shut off your brain as your finger lazily draws shape on his forearm. 

He murmurs a goodnight against the shell of your ear. You blame how happy and comfortable you are right now on his cat. And it somewhat makes you feel better. You never pictured falling asleep beside your coworker, let alone Frankie Morales. 

Sleep eventually overcomes you. You dream of Frankie sitting in a bowl of stir fry like a hot tub. 

---

here's my masterlist!

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[glamatron3000]

The Unofficial Malto Family Cookbook

I was inspired by the longing of @ihatebrainstorm for Alex's cooking to do a deep dive into just what Earthspark's best dad was making, so here it is! The Unofficial Malto Family Cookbook!

Just a note, I am in no way familiar with Filipino cooking (I mostly cook American, European, and Japanese-inspired food in my day to day) but I'd like to think I am a skilled practitioner of Google-Fu, so here's what I was able to find!

These dishes were either shown or mentioned, sometimes both, in season 1 and the first half of season 2. I believe I got them all, but I did pan through the episodes pretty quickly, so let me know if I missed any!

Embutido

First up is the main dish from episode 1, which already sent me on an adventure trying to identify because it was never named. After poking around a few Filipino recipe sites I managed to identify it as embutido, which is described as a Filipino meatloaf. Dot mentions that it is her favorite dish.

Lumpia

The side dish of Dot's celebratory new job meal is lumpia, Filipino egg rolls! This dish appears regularly in the Malto family's meals, seen twice again in the first half of season 2.

Pandesal

Okay, so technically this is probably just a store-bought dinner roll, but why not try to find if there's a Filipino recipe it could be? Our boy Alex seems like the type of guy to pull out all the stops when it comes to feeding his family. The closest I could find is pandesal to round out our episode 1 meal.

Breakfast Burrito

In episode 2, we see Robbie lure Alex out to the barn with a picnic of breakfast burritos. Now surely there's also a Filipino style recipe for this, yes? Yes!

Longganisa

In episode 3, we see Alex frying up a pan of sausage for breakfast. Could be store bought, but it's also possible that it's a traditional Filipino pork sausage called longganisa.

Tortang

Here's our first one that was only mentioned and not shown. In episode 4, Alex tries twice to coax Bee into frying tortillas with his stingers. At first I thought he meant just regular flour or corn tortillas, but the way he was talking made it sound like a main dish and not just an ingredient. So after a bit of digging I found a dish called tortang, which is sometimes referred to as tortilla from what I can gather (citation needed -- I am a dumb American). Unlike the sort of tortilla you would use in a wrap or burrito, this dish is closer to an omelet. Those with more knowledge of Filipino cooking please feel free to correct me if I got this wrong.

Bibingka

Another only mentioned in episode 4, this is the dish Robbie would have picked to have for dinner for a week if he'd won the weekly chore race. Of course a child would pick a sweet dessert for dinner if he could.

Spam Steak

Okay, this was another mystery for me, particularly because of the way everything is stylized in the show. In episode 5, we see Alex frying up another breakfast food. I thought maybe it was a kind of french toast, but the browning texture didn't look quite right for that. So I browsed through the breakfast section of the recipe website I've been using and the closest I've found is this crispy spam steak recipe. Apparently spam is pretty popular in the Philippines, so it's possible! Again, if anyone more knowledgeable has another option, please correct me.

Snickerdoodles

In episode 7, Alex makes bagged lunches for Mo and Robbie's first day at school. While we don't know what's in those lunches, Alex did mention that he included his homemade snickerdoodles. Snickerdoodles originate from Dutch/German immigrants who settled in New England, and since there's a lot of Dutch/German heritage in Pennsylvania where the Maltos live, I'm fairly confident this is something Alex picked up in America. But just for fun, I did find an interesting Filipino/Mexican-inspired variant of this classic cookie, so you get a two for one deal with this one!

Unfortunately, Tumblr won't let me post more in a single post, so the rest will have to be in a Part 2 reblog!

[buckyalpine]

Catch Me If You Can 2/3

Mob!Bucky x single mom police officer

I am so happy you all loved these two so here is more from this AU. I had the story half in mind but wasn’t sure if people would feel it, once again, LMK if you want more! 

Warnings: fluffffff, single mom reader, crappy ex, Mob Bucky is a whole ass warning 

Part 1

Part 3 

-

You woke up to the smell of fresh coffee, sun pouring in the giant room, your body still aching from the night before but the peaceful rest proved to be helpful. You smiled at the steaming cup that sat by your bedside table, picking up the hand drawn card that was placed beside it; giant heart coloured red was in the middle with the words Get Well Soon decorated in bold letters. You grinned, opening the card to read your sons hand writing. 

Dear mommy,

Get well soon. Uncle Bucky says he took good care of you and that you’ll arrest him once you’re all better. He bought me a kinder egg. He seems nice. Maybe give him a running head start. 

Love and kisses and cuddles,

Jordan 

PS: Can we stay a little longer? Peter is still trying to beat me in Mario Kart

On the side of the card were a bunch of other messages, each signed by Bucky’s men. You shook your head at the signatures, your son having asked every one of Bucky’s men to sign the card, well wishes from them all scattered across the paper. A knock at the door broke you away from the card as Bucky peeked in, happy to see you were awake. 

“Where did he get art supplies” You snorted, while Bucky walked in, carrying a tray of eggs and toast. You whispered a quiet thank you as he set it down for you, taking a seat by the edge of the bed. 

“Had Steve pick some up” Bucky couldn't help but chuckle, remembering the way your son had asked him to sign the card before proceeding to go around the house with a glittery pen. 

“He loves to draw” you hummed, tracing over the bright, colourful letters on the smooth paper, the materials clearly from a higher quality art store. As nice as everything was at the moment, tension lingered in the air; the question of how you ended up in this position in the first place still left unanswered. 

“What happened” Bucky spoke softly while you turned away not meeting his gaze. Your jaw clenched as your hand skimmed over the bandage that covered your gash, a dull ache still radiating through your side. 

“It was-nothing” You lied poorly, unsure of to explain the situation to Bucky of all people, “Just some people trying to scare me” 

He didn’t believe it for a second. 

“This was personal doll” Bucky tilted your chin to meet his eyes, knowing damn well even some of the more unruly gang members in the area wouldn’t dare attack a police officer in their home, especially when they had a child. “Who hurt you”

“It doesn’t matter” You shook your head feeling helpless, knowing the problem wasn’t something you’d ever be able to easily get rid of. Bucky chewed his lip, deciding not to press the matter further but he couldn’t help the curiosity that still picked his brain. 

“Jordan came to me...didn’t call 911″ He cocked his head, wondering why your son would chose to come to  his club over easily calling 911 to help you, something you would have surely taught him. (Especially after he had kidnapped him...)

“He goes to people he can trust” You stated, nibbling on the toast, groaning at the grin that spread across Bucky’s face, “Don’t get it twisted, that doesn't mean I trust you” 

“Of course, officer” 

God, he was such a little shit. You hated the way his charming laugh made your insides giddy along with the way he was taking care of both you and your son. As if he could read your thoughts on que, he spoke before you could mentioning leaving. “Stay a little longer”

“Bucky-”

He shook his head, not letting you speak further, urging you to finish breakfast instead. 

“Your home was compromised, the locks were broken off. Let Sam and Steve clear some stuff up a bit and reinstall some new locks. They’re on it right now” 

You wanted to protest but you also knew there was no arguing with him, if all past encounters with his illegal antics proved anything. When he set his mind to something, he did it. This was one of the few times you were secretly happy he was so hard headed. 

“Alright” You smiled softly, cocking your brow at the smirk that danced on his lips immediately after. 

“Can’t promise I won’t give myself a spare, doll” Bucky winked leaving you to finish eating and rest up while he quietly made his way out to make sure your house was taken care of. 

As promised, Sam and Steve had gone above and beyond, cleaning and patching up all the damages, including replacing the broken photo frames that were smashed to bits. The locks they added were far stronger than the ones you had from the Home Depot, clearly purchased from somewhere you had no idea existed. Bucky had dropped you home along with a very excited Jordan who felt like he had Christmas twice this year, hauling bags of art supplies behind him.

“Y’know this changes nothing” You reminded him,  your cheeks warming up at the way he bit his lip, giving you a cocky smirk. 

Little shit. 

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, doll” 

*****

As expected, gang activity was back up and you were back to your job of investigating the latest nonsense Bucky was up to. You seemed to still be the only one concerned about stopping what he was doing while the rest of the department pretended not to see a damn thing. Most of the day would alternate between you trying to do your job and being told to lay off the mob boss. 

The worst was the little traitor that lived under your own roof. 

“Uncle Bucky is kinda like Batman” Jordan stated while you gave him a pointed look, continuing to make him breakfast which now consisted of scrambled eggs and toast, just like how uncle Bucky makes them. 

“Explain”  You knew you were going to regret asking as soon as it came out of your mouth.

“Well, he’s rich. Very rich. He likes to help people. He wears a suit. He stops the bad guys”

“He is a bad guy Jordan” You had your hands on your hip, challenging Bucky’s latest swimfan. 

“But the badder guys! That has to count for something” He peeked at you with hopeful eyes before turning back to his toast, nervously poking at it. “Can I play with Peter?” 

“Peter” You frowned, not remembering any of Jordan’s friends with that name. “Peter who?”

“Paarkerr” He drawled out, blinking up at you while you connected the pieces together, your eyes growing wide. 

“Absolutely not” 

“But moooom” Jordan gave you his best puppy pout, “None of the kids in my class are as good, you told me I should challenge myself” 

“That doesn’t mean you find competition in the house of the Mafia, Jordan!” You scoffed while he slumped his shoulders, hopping off his chair to get ready for school. You knew he was guilting you, acting as if you had refused to feed him for the rest of his life, staring out the car window like a sad puppy on his way to the pound. You kissed him goodbye, promising him you’d “think about it” before driving over to the prescient, most of the day filled with paperwork, a part of your actually thinking about letting Jordan play video games with Peter before you shook some sense back into your head. 

Just because he saved you once didn’t mean you had to let your son play with his junior henchmen. 

*****

You sipped on some tea as evening rolled around after helping Jordan with homework, the rest of his night spent using the newest fancy art supplies he’d gotten. You no longer paid attention to the show on TV, frowning at the unmarked truck that had circled the block twice. Then three times. You carefully reached for a gun tucked under the sofa and stood by the side of the window just out of sight. The SUV came to a stop near your driveway; uncalled for butterflies erupting in your tummy when you realized who it was. 

Bucky stepped out of the truck while you opened the door, your son much quicker than you, slipping past your arm and darting straight outside. 

“Uncle Bucky!!” Jordan grinned, bounding towards the all black SUV, ignoring your calls for him to slow down, maybe not run with so much passion and admiration for a man who had once kidnapped him and taken care of you and nursed you back to health and changed your locks and why the hell were you feeling hot and fuzzy right now. 

“Hey kid” Bucky smiled while you huffed, making your way over, poorly masking the smile that tugged at your lips. 

“Did you get lost Barnes, or were you here to kidnap me today instead?” You teased while Jordan slipped back into the truck to talk to his second favorite “Uncle” Steve. 

“You wound me doll, y’know, I’m not just a heartless gang leader” his facial expression almost the exact same as what Jordan had given you earlier. “Just came to see how you were” He said sincerely, not realizing his heart rate had calmed as soon as he saw you and your little one safe in your home. 

“We’re safe” You nodded, your heart fluttering at the way his gaze softened, scanning the area just to be sure there wasn’t anyone he didn’t recognize lingering near by. 

“Good to know” Bucky murmured, giving you a once over before getting back in the truck and leaving for the night. He didn’t like that he was still in the dark over what your story was. He didn’t like not knowing who hurt you; they were still out there and it made him sick. You didn’t deserve that. Jordan didn’t deserve that. You didn’t need to know that he had done some digging, learning a bit more about you but not enough to get answers. 

You also didn’t need to know that his unannounced visits were more frequent that you realized, sometimes a car circling around Jordan’s school, sometimes a quick roll around the block at midnight. 

Steve and Sam were only able to contain themselves for so long, making their own betting pool over how this would all end. 

They hoped it’d end with them getting a nephew. 

Maybe one day. 

*****

6 missed calls

4 voicemails

100+ text messages

Your jaw clenched watching your phone ring again, the No Caller ID screen shining bright as you ignored the call. Of course you still had the other issue to deal with. One that you had kept hidden ever since you moved to the city. One that had followed and found you over and over again, even after you managed to change your number and address.

The nightmare never stopped.

“You gonna get that? Someone’s been trynna to reach you all day” Your boss piqued as he walked by, curiously eyeing your phone that had been ringing the entire morning and afternoon, eventually muffled when you stuffed it in your bag.  

“It’s fine” You gave him a tight lipped smile, waiting for him to pass by before calling your son’s school and making sure he was still there, informing them to not let anyone else pick him up but you. 

As you drove home with him, you were on edge, your nerves ready to snap, heart rate spiking erratically. Jordan chatted your ear off about how he was still the reigning champion of his video game but you couldn’t help but feel a sense of uneasiness, the same feeling you got the day Bucky rescued you. The same day you were attacked. 

You just knew. 

The front door was still locked as you inserted the key. 

The lights were all still turned off.

But you knew. 

The hairs on your neck stood up as soon as you entered your home, the smell of alcohol enough for you to know who was already inside.

“Babycheeekss” 

Your stomach flipped, the blood in your veins turning into ice as he stepped out from the shadows, his feet crunching over the glass from the window he had broken into. 

Not again. 

“Baby, go upstairs” you whispered to your son, who was reluctant to leave your side, refusing to look at the man that was supposedly his father. You nudged him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze urging him to leave; the last thing you needed was for him to be further traumatized. Jordan shakily made his way up, stopping at the top of the stairs so he’d still be able to see you, reaching for the baseball bat he had kept by his room. 

Uncle Bucky would be proud of me, he thought, his small hands tightening around the handle, fiercely protective over his mama. 

“Why are you here” You hissed, flashbacks clouding your mind over the way he had broken into your house and didn’t take no for an answer. 

He’d rather have you dead than live peacefully single. 

“To see my son” Your ex shrugged, taking another casual step towards you while you backed up, slowly reaching for your gun. “I mean, he is my son, isn’t he? Unless you think there’s reason to believe he isn’t” Andrew sneered, while you scoffed, your hands trembling, hoping Jordan was safe in his room before you drew your weapon. The last thing you needed was for him to get hurt while protecting the both of you. 

Before you could do anything,  the front door swung open with a bang, your ex’s eyes growing wide, frozen in place, focused on the man that was now behind you. 

You turned around, gasping at the soft baby blue eyes that were peering down at you, his pink lips this time with a deep frown instead of his typical boyish smirk. Bucky gently tugged your arm, pulling you behind him, keeping you far away from your ex who was staring daggers at the both of you. 

“What the fu-”

“Stay away from her” Bucky growled while you ex scoffed, taking a step forward instead. 

“And who the hell are you? Her latest fuck? A new boytoy to play with?” Your ex challenged, unable to hide the quiver in his voice. If not for the seriousness of the situation, Bucky would have laughed. It was a valid question. Who was he to you anyway?

“Mommy?” Jordan padded down the stairs, instantly rushing to your side, his worries washing away when he saw who had come to the rescue. 

“Stay upstairs Jordan” You tried to urge him back upstairs but he stayed rooted in place, not willing to leave if there was someone trying to hurt you. 

“Let me see my son-” Andrew tired to take a step forward but Bucky wasn't having any of it, keeping the both of you behind him, and pushing your ex away. 

“Don’t” Bucky growled, keeping his itching hands away from his gun. It would have taken him all but 1 second to put a bullet between Andrews eyebrows and have the body disposed of within the half hour but he didn’t want to either of you to have to witness that. 

“Hey bud” Your ex tried to reach out for Jordan again, hoping he’d get some leverage if he got him in his hands. “C’mon, you missed me, didn’t ya?” 

Jordan trembled, his small hand clutching onto the back of Bucky’s suit jacket, the other still holding his bat. He shook his head, tightening his grip when he saw the anger flash across his fathers eyes. Bucky reached behind, taking your hand in his, holding it firmly in his grip hoping to ground you. 

“Leave” Bucky stared at your ex, nodding towards the door, giving him a final warning to leave with his life. Andrew glared at him before narrowing his eyes at you and Jordan while he silently left, the look he gave you telling you this wouldn’t be the last time he’d see you. Or so he thought. 

As soon as he was out the door, Bucky immediately turned to you, his hand cupping your face, scanning you up and down for any signs of injury, his features softening when he didn’t see anything. 

“You’re coming with me” Bucky stated, taking your hand in his again, ignoring the way his heart was still beating out of his chest. You wanted to argue against it but you didn’t feel safe in your own home and a hotel didn’t exactly seem like a safer option. 

Perhaps sleeping with the enemy wasn’t so bad...

At least sleeping at his house. 

You cocked an eyebrow, glancing at the door that was perfectly in tact, no signs of a forced entry from when Bucky entered the house. How the hell did he get in. 

“How did you-”

“Told you I’d make myself a spare” Bucky grinned, twirling a small gold key between his fingers, itching to wrap his arms around you. He squeezed his hand to his side instead, letting you go up to pack some things to take to his place while he waited for you outside. 

-

You had agreed to stay at his place until the window as fixed and a security system was installed throughout your house.

Then you agreed to stay for an additional week just to be safe.

Then that turned into two weeks to make sure Jordan was extra safe. 

Then that turned into three weeks while Bucky took care of business. He didn’t tell you what that meant but he promised you’d never have to worry about Andrew again. 

The nature of your relationship was confusing.

You spent time with Bucky, sometimes with Jordan and sometimes all by yourself while both boys ditched you to do something that would probably leave you reeling. There had even been a number of times where Bucky himself had gone to pick up Jordan from school, your little one more than happy to ride in the huge dark truck, any chance he got. 

You had no idea what to do with yourself, screaming internally on a daily basis, wondering why someone who did 101 illegal things a day made you feel giddy, feel safe, feel butterflies, all while quietly tossing a body off into the lake. 

It didn’t matter what you felt. 

It didn’t matter than his charming smile made you melt.

It didn’t matter than he took care of you in every way possible, not once looking at you in a way that was disrespectful. 

Nothing mattered. 

You were both still too different for anything to happen. 

Sweet as Bucky was, nothing would happen between the both of you.

That's just how things had to be. 

You reminded yourself that every night, whenever Jordan rambled on for hours over how much fun he had with uncle Bucky, how he taught him self defense, bought him more art supplies, beat Peter at video games again, got used as a human volley ball between uncle Steve and Sam. 

That's just how things had to be.

Then why were you still in his house. 

- 

“I don’t think I like the name Uncle Bucky anymore” 

“You don’t, huh?” Bucky smirked at his little side kick, your son no longer paying attention to his homework which he now often did in Bucky’s office. He took a sip from his apple house, swirling the ice around the glass cup just as Bucky did with his whiskey, taking another long drag before setting it down. 

“We look alike” Jordan stated, looking up at the mob boss while they both sat on the office couch, neither of them focused on their work anymore. Jordan reached over for the kinder egg that sat on the table, a treat Bucky had bought him for doing well on his math test. 

“We do” Bucky nodded, while Jordan smiled in satisfaction, munching on the chocolate, scooting over a little closer to Bucky. 

“Some people say you look like my dad” He spoke a little more quietly this time, inching closer until he was pressed against Bucky’s side. 

“Uh-huh” Bucky watched Jordan curiously while he assembled the toy, chewing on his bottom lip. 

“Sooo...”

“Soo?” Bucky waited for him to continue while Jordan fidgeted with his kinder egg toy, his eyes now trained on his lap, worried about what the answer would be. 

“Can I call you dad instead?” His voice was small, wavering slightly, unsure how Bucky would react. He held his breath, not daring to look anywhere else, hoping his request wouldn’t upset the mob boss. He didn’t need to know that he’d already been calling Bucky dad in his head for a while.

What would da-uncle Bucky say? 

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc   @buckybarnessweetheart   @pandaxnienke   @manyfandomsfanvergent

[liquorflower]

𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐦 — 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

cw: just pure angst, canon divergence, post-jjk, mentions of death, gojo and you have children, plot-twist.

a/n: this is just a little writing exercise.

the table was just set at this moment. in this icy morning, water, breakfast and honey, decorate the table and coffee brewed fills the house with its well-known smell. your children enjoy playing outside with yuji, megumi and nobara. in this cold morning, you thank having bought those cozy jackets in the mid-summer. now you don’t have to worry about visiting full department stores in this time of year.

poor nobara. by the way little ike is inspecting her eye, grabbing with her tiny hands the jovial cheeks of the girl, she right now might be asking her how she got to lost her eye, how it felt like, how it is to just look with one eyeball, and other sorts of questions, that for you, are merely childish imprudences — perhaps a behavior inherited from your husband, who was about to arrive.

takeshi, by the way he seems to grab both megumi and yuji marks, may have the same curiosity as his sister.

water, for when they have finished eating the western breakfast: scrambled eggs and bacon, to refresh your mouths after the meal and children can drink milk and the adults enjoy the hot coffee.

honey, to spread it in the recently baked biscuits nanami will bring from his trusted bakery shop.

now you just wait for satoru. the kids will be happy to see their dad again and then, in the afternoon enjoy the sweets you are sure he will bring for them. though you don’t have a sweet tooth, you recognize how vile it would be to deny them a sweet treat from time to time.

“hey, there.” a cocky voice can be heard from afar.

“satoru?” you turn and that albino hair, those blue pupils, and...

why he’s not wearing any jacket, with the awful cold is making outside?

after the divorce, when nanami didn’t serve as a therapist for both of you, you managed to keep your worry for him as a formality when you were in front of the children. “have you checked your teeth?” “it’s cold outside, i think you should wear a jacket.”

“i’m glad to see you too.” he gets near and, grabs your knuckles with such delicacy, inviting you to get up from your chair.

“i can tell the same.” you look away, not wanting him to wonder what goes through your mind, not wanting your eyes to betray you. you both had to admit that there was still a spark. it’s just that satoru’s busy lifestyle didn’t allow you to consummate your love, enjoy the children. just curse there and there.

it was unbearable.

“you’ve been missing me?” he teases as always. nanami would always say things like: “i think there are things you need to solve by yourselves.” “i’m not any kind of messenger that you can use as you please.” the blonde man, in some way or another, implied how much he made you suffer, even though you asked him not to tell him that you waited for him every day, just to see if he would change his mind.

then, he notices it’s just not the way he wanted to let you know he also missed you, but also despite how you tried to hide it, you, trying not to cry and hold tears back, is present.

“i think i sounded cruel, didn’t i?” he murmured.

you gasped, as now an enormous and overwhelming sadness consumes you and can’t understand why. he’s here with you and all you want to do is to tell him how much you’ve been longing for him to come and stay with you. that doesn’t matter how much you’ll be waiting for him, the three of you will be blissfully anticipating his arrival.

“hey, it’s okay, i’m here.” he hugs you and instead of feeling any sort of comfort, it’s like a mass of ice is hugging you and that sheds more tears, accompanied by uncontrollable sobbing. “you know? could you please tell the children that they’ll live forever in my heart?” he mumbles in your ear.

“i don’t want you to leave, satoru.” you protest. your whimpers and sob crack your voice.

“hey, hey.” his frozen thumbs try to clean your tears. “i’ll be here, with you. looking after ike and takeshi, you were the most precious thing that could ever happen to me. you have no idea how much i would have liked to enjoy you more. i wish i could go back in time.”

“don’t bullshit me. you still can do it. we can...”

your hands intertwine. “tell them i would’ve loved to take them to eat all the candies in the world.”

you look at his hands. the hands of the strongest man. a vague: “yes” comes from your mouth.

and then, nanami enters with the bread and the trio of young students enters with your children. who quickly noticed your face full of tears and tried to distract the children for them.

nanami, of course knows what happened.

yeah, you have forgotten. now nanami just can’t go and tell him about how your feelings. even if you were at verge of tears, you tried to hide it from nanami, who of course, tired of other things that were happening in his life, tried not to be attached or pay attention to them.

now you just wished you could have been brave enough to speak directly to satoru and no after disgrace just happened.

[jals-stuff]

Taking care of it! p.2

That took ages because I had a shitton of things to do, apologies.

You can find part one here.

warnings: we talkin' about snakes here.

word count: 5.9k

note: i had a very specific ending planned and a very slight change in mood swept it all away, so there ya go.

The snake was now out of its egg and you were absolutely ecstatic. It was your first time actually caring for a pet, and you had even seen it come to life. Your petty rivalry with Orter didn't matter anymore and all you wanted now was to see what kind of colours Rivers would get as it sheds its old skin.

What you didn't know was if the beast was going to keep absorbing your energy as it kept growing or if it only took in emotions. Asking the teacher was out of the question, but you knew you'd find out about it quickly.

That night had been rather sleepless due to the excitement of seeing this adorable creature come out of its shell. You had carefully made a little nest inside one of your scarf and when the sun rose, you decided to take a little walk.

Orter was against the idea of letting you wander around on your own, because what if you just collapsed again? But it was all nonsense to you and you wrapped your scarf around your neck, then placed Rivers carefully on top of the cotton.

It didn't seem to mind being carried around, and at least it wasn't alone in your room. Walking around with a snake inside your scarf was unusual, but it was nothing compared to Orter’s heavy steps behind you as he just refused to let you be on your own.

“I’m just going to the store, Orter. I’ll be fine.”

“I don't want you to collapse and crush Rivers in the process.” Yes, that was his excuse. Truth is he wouldn't forgive himself if he left you alone in your current state. But he couldn't possibly tell you that, could he?

You did take offence in his words, though. Was he calling you fat? Ah, but again, he was pretty blunt by nature. The slight change in your expression made him panic just a little bit.

“And… if you get hurt, you won't be able to take care of Rivers anymore. This is a two-people assignment.” He added, pushing his glasses up a little bit. It was obvious what he thought, but you were pretty dense yourself.

“..right.” Was all you said before you entered the store, still carrying the mandragora snake inside your scarf. It felt nice to finally be able to walk around instead of letting him do everything. You bought some snacks, of course, and decided it was time for a little stroll in the Academy's gardens.

It really felt odd having Orter follow every single one of your steps and just pretending not to be here, staying all silent. He had his usual neutral expression, but the coldness in his eyes was a well-built wall to conceal his actual thoughts.

The sight of you being so excited about the snake and finally getting outside was refreshing, to say the least. You were walking slightly faster than him, and he had to take some of those comically big steps to catch up to you.

You were looking around as if you had never seen a plant in your entire life and he found that absolutely adorable. You sped up a little and so did he, and then…

You felt a little dizzy, as if your energy had vanished, and you stopped walking. The second your body leaned backwards, he was behind you to hold your shoulders so you wouldn't collapse. You looked up at him with a small sigh and just let out a stupidly childish chuckle.

“Ha! Thanks, Orter.” 

It absolutely melted his heart but he didn't say anything, just let you rest against him as he pushed his glasses back up, one of his hands firmly holding the back of your shoulder.

“See, this is why I insisted on coming. Had I not been here…”

“But you were. It's nice, thank you.” You just said, taking the opportunity to rest as you just leaned against him without really thinking, breathing deeply and hoping you'd quickly regain your energy. 

He didn't say anything to that, but you could feel his hand faintly tighten against your shoulder. A week ago, you would've panicked but somehow it felt relaxing now. You had to resist the sudden and very unexpected urge to put your hand on top of his. 

Of course you didn't do it, you were too busy wondering why you wanted to do such a thing. You were overthinking the hell out of it and for a second, it felt like Rivers was squirming around inside your scarf. 

You exhaled deeply and looked down at the small snake. “Oh, sorry Rivers. Too much?” And the snake flicked its tongue slightly in response. Orter looked down at it, then at you, as he had no clue what you meant by that.

Was he going to ask? Absolutely not. He would be damned the day he reveals even a portion of his feelings. Feelings? He couldn't place a word on what he was feeling, but he definitely didn't despise you anymore. 

You weren't planning on moving anytime soon but some students were kind of staring now and it was really embarrassing. “Um… I think I'm okay now.”

“Are you?” He asked and you really, really wanted to say that you weren't, that you needed him to just stay like this for a little longer, and that under no circumstance he should let go, but you just nodded, and his hand didn't simply leave your shoulder. It traced your arm down to your elbow before he cut contact completely. 

What is up with this guy? You wondered, but what was up with you as well? Rivers was almost going crazy with all of the emotions he had to absorb and it was only the first day. 

“Anyway… let's, um… go back..?” You suggested in an unsure tone, and he merely agreed. The way back felt like an eternity, confused students staring at the two of you, wondering why you're both headed for your dorm room. 

As soon as you took Rivers out of your scarf, Orter carefully held him and stared for a bit. He then just sat on the bed opposite to yours and kept it in his hands, looking at it as if he had never seen anything like this before.

“Isn't it so cute?”

“It…” ‘isn't nearly as cute as you’ was what he wanted to say but he decided not to. “...is, yes.” He kept looking at it in an intense effort not to stare at your amazed expression, with stars in your eyes as you gazed upon the adorable baby snake.

This was going to be one hell of a rough week. He had nothing to pour his attention into since there was no homework. He could read another book, but then you would probably think he doesn't want to talk to you, and gods, he does.

He could absolutely research more things about young mandragora snakes, but then you'd be left alone, what if you collapsed? What if you weren't feeling okay? What if you needed him for something and had to get out of your room and go out of your way to find him but ended up fainting again?

He was clearly overthinking and Rivers could feel it, slightly squirming in his hands. Orter came back to himself and blinked a few times, then sighed as he looked at the snake. “Oh, sorry.” He muttered, petting it with one of his fingers.

It was your turn to be confused as he apologised. For a second, you wondered if he, too, was overthinking, but… that was definitely not his style, why would he? An idea suddenly crossed his mind.

“We could go to the library and do some more research if you'd like.”

You thought for a bit; researching was an excellent idea and this way, you’d be making good use of your time while also staying with Orter. While also staying with Orter? When did that become a priority to you? Your thoughts were scrambled again and you just shook your head to dismiss them.

“Good idea, let’s go, you can have it.” You said as you started taking off your scarf, but he stopped you and just carefully placed Rivers inside of it. He couldn’t carry the snake, not if he had to pay attention to you in case something went wrong.

You assumed exactly that, as you didn’t oppose this decision and just grabbed a few snacks and left your room, followed by the straight-faced sandman. Everytime you started walking a little too fast, he would simply grab your sleeve to slow you down a little and give you this look, these eyes that practically said don’t waste your energy out loud.

And instead of rolling your eyes or being snarky like the old you would’ve done, you’d slow down, knowing he was right. You were paying attention to Rivers inside your scarf, sometimes patting the top of its head with your index finger and the little snake didn’t seem like it minded at all.

However as you did this, your eyes weren’t exactly focusing on the path and you felt something hit your whole front as you stumbled backwards, right into Orter’s chest and he put both hands on your shoulders to stabilise you. Looking up, you were met with a student’s annoyed glare.

“Hey, can you fucking watch it?”

“Ah—” You felt terribly sorry and you were about to apologise, but you felt the sand magic user’s hands tighten against your shoulders slightly, prompting you to stay quiet. His eyes travelled from your figure to the student’s face, giving him this cold look he was known for.

“Do we have a problem here?” He asked, and oh boy, you could feel the atmosphere brutally change, as if the air around the three (four, with baby Rivers) of you was thick and icy. You looked up towards Orter’s face and he was staring daggers at this poor guy, who just stepped back quickly.

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve paid more attention!” He stuttered, and this obviously should’ve been your line, but these golden eyes were too intimidating for anyone to handle. The student quickly left and Orter pushed his glasses up a little and blinked slowly, then looked down at you.

“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?”

Somehow, for some reason, for some goddamn reason, your heart was beating too quickly for your own good. You couldn’t even speak up, because if you did, the only thing that would come out is a choked out, high-pitched sound, as if to explain the amount of pressure your diaphragm was currently undergoing, and you only felt like screaming. Why? Was it badass, was it scary? Was it both?

A quick nod was enough for him to sigh softly in relief, and he gently pushed your shoulders forwards so you’d keep walking. And you did. The trip to the library was undisturbed after the earlier events, even if you kept glancing down at Rivers to check how it was doing. Orter pushed the door open for you, a true gentleman, you thought, and found a nice secluded spot for the two— three of you. 

You sat down and he immediately fetched some books on mandragora snakes. Now that you’re thinking about it, this library is really huge, it has books about anything and everything. You could get stuck in here and be busy for more than a lifetime reading all of them.

Both of you opened your own book to take some notes. This whole moment was silent until Orter heard you whisper something and, as he turned to face you, he saw you hunched over one of the pages with Rivers’ head slightly coming out of the scarf. His eyes travelled to said page and he thought he was going to implode. 

“Look here, Rivers!” You whispered and the snake followed your finger. You were… showing him pictures of other mandragora snakes, this time adult ones, and it seemed to be looking. The display was ridiculously adorable and he couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle and a faint smile as he watched you introduce Rivers to its congeners. How could you get any cuter when he thought it was impossible?

You glanced at Orter and found him staring at you with that very faint smile of his, and you couldn’t help but think he looked really handsome like this. The slight blush that crept upon your face was out of your control and you just pressed your lips together in an unfructuous attempt to hide it. 

“I-I’m sorry, did I disturb your reading..?”

He chuckled again, this time a little louder, at your worried expression. “No, of course not.” He looked at you with eyes full of kindness, a rare occurrence for a man like him. “By all means, do not let me interrupt.”

You couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you, though he did seem very sincere… but now that he had noticed, it felt a little embarrassing, and just as if he could feel it, he brought his book closer to you and pointed at a picture of a young mandragora snake and looked at Rivers. “Looks like you, buddy.”

You almost exploded at how cute that was of him, but said nothing and just watched him playfully pat the top of the snake’s head. Orter’s soft side was unknown to the public, and witnessing it had drastically improved your mood for today, and probably the days to come as well. 

The research session led you both to more notes on how to take care of a young mandragora snake and what their colour patterns mean. For example, the majority of this species gets glossy scales with purple flower patterns when they are healthy, but some rarer colours had been observed a few times in their natural habitat; specially strong specimens would have beautiful golden scales and very faint black flower patterns, some of them, mostly in captivity, would get darker green scales with white flower patterns, indicating they had absorbed a lot of anxiety from their owners.

Some had rocky, callous scales and looked really dangerous, just like the one your teacher had shown you in class, all of this coming from an angry environment. Others had darker patterns, or red flower patterns when the emotions they fed upon were love and care, some even had blue flower patterns if their owners were the dreamy type. 

Despite how interesting it was to learn about mandragora snakes, so far nothing had been too helpful, and you deemed your routine to be just fine. In the mornings, you’d feed Rivers pieces of mandragora roots, then talk to it, pet it, let it wander around the room… 

Come to think of it, since the day you had stopped biting back at Orter’s snarky remarks, he had only been very supportive and helpful. Was he just that nice? It did change pretty much everything you thought about him. When you glanced at his figure, he was just meticulously taking notes, really pouring his efforts into it. 

Your hand reached for the snacks, and you realised the pack was empty. At the sight of this, your stomach growled in protest and your face turned red from shame. Orter turned to face you and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to go to the cafeteria?”

You shyly nodded and he adjusted his tie before standing up and retrieving the books. “Alright, let us go, then. I think we have enough material now anyway.” Another nod of your head and you stood up, then felt like you were weighed down. 

“Did… did Rivers grow again? I feel like it’s getting heavier…” You muttered as you looked at the snake inside your scarf; it looked clueless. Of course it did, but it also looked a bit bigger than it was in the morning. “Look at you, you’re an even bigger baby now.” You cooed at the snake and it rubbed its head against your chin, making you giggle.

“I’ll measure it when we get back to our room, then.” He said and hearing him use the word our, for our room was doing… something to you. You dismissed the unusual emotion and stood up once more, carrying RIvers inside your scarf and with Orter’s hand hovering near your back to guide you.

The cafeteria was empty except for a few students who lingered after their lunch break, stalking the cook’s schedule to try and snipe one additional piece of dessert from the shelves. You were about to grab the chair you wanted to sit in, but Orter was faster than you and pulled it back so you could sit. 

“What do you want? I’ll bring it here.” 

Why was he being so… gentlemanly? You couldn’t say anything for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you with a slightly worried look. You let out an embarrassed chuckle and looked away from him, directly towards the tabletop. “Uhh… I’ll just have a bowl of rice, please…?”

“That’s it? A bowl of rice?” He raised his eyebrows at your answer, crossing his arms. “You need more nutrients than that, you’re clearly tired, you—” but he interrupted himself at the sight of your embarrassed expression. Not wanting to bother you any further with his concerns, he sighed and gave a nod. “Right. A bowl of rice it is, then.”

The way he was now trying to take care of your health was really endearing. Had he always been like this, you would’ve probably… 

Rivers squirmed a little inside your scarf, interrupting this thought that was making your heartbeat a little faster than you liked, and you gently rubbed the snake’s neck with your index finger. “Ah, again, huh? I’m sorry baby.” you muttered, looking at the snake. In fact, you had helped Rivers hatch, and taken care of it until now, so it technically was your baby… and Orter’s.

The thought got your face heat up at maximum level, and you had to press your lips together as you felt your cheeks contort into this uncomfortable blushing smile, the air blocked in your throat and your lungs begging for you to exhale, but you couldn’t, lest you’d just squeal in timidity. 

He put the bowl of rice down in front of you, making you jump in surprise a little, and mutter a quick “thank you” before digging in. It felt amazing to finally absorb some actual food other than snacks and sweets. You eyed Orter’s plate for a bit.

“Do you perhaps want some?” He asked, and you looked up at him, shaking your head.

“Oh, no, no! I was just wondering if Rivers would like that. You know, since it eats mandragora roots…”

As if to test out that theory, Orter grabbed a piece of carrot and presented it to Rivers, who immediately flicked its tongue towards that new piece of food it was being introduced to. It chomped on the piece of carrot and swallowed it. “It seems to like vegetables in general, then.” Orter remarked, again with a faint smile.

You thanked the gods that he didn’t notice your expression, staring at his lips like they were a work of art, your heart gradually beating faster and faster, weakening you to no end as you hadn’t recovered from last week yet. 

With both of your dishes empty, Orter brought them back to the kitchen and both of you left the cafeteria to get back to the dorm room. Your steps were a little shaky and Orter noticed that; he walked a little closer to you so he would be able to catch you in case you fell. Upon feeling the way his hand hovered against your backside once more, your heart sped up yet again.

You did manage to walk to the door and open it, but your legs were trembling a little and he just knew you were about to fall. His arms gently supported your weight around your waist, closing the door behind him and walking you towards your bed. It was a bit embarrassing, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt to have his arms wrapped around you.

He helped you sit, seating himself next to you and still holding your waist. “Are you feeling alright, (Y/N)?” But his question fell on deaf ears as the comfort his embrace brought you automatically made your body and brain shut down. Your head rested on his shoulder and he sat there for a while, a bit muzzy as he looked at your resting figure against his body. 

He would’ve been very nervous if you were awake, but it was fine right now. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm further around your waist, tightening his hold just a little bit as you slept calmly, Rivers doing the same inside of your scarf. It took all of his willpower not to laugh out loud at how cute the two of you were, his fingers gently caressing your face, moving your hair away from your cheeks. 

You exhaled quietly and nuzzled his shoulder and the side of his neck, and suddenly he couldn’t let go anymore. His heart was beating like crazy and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Suddenly, he felt the urge to keep you as close as he could. Suddenly, you were the remedy to his ills. Suddenly… he understood what this feeling was exactly.

His head was now resting against yours as his free hand was on your face, his thumb softly rubbing circles against your cheekbones. You seemed to appreciate the gesture, turning around just a little bit to face him, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his waist as well, making him think he was about to suffocate from the amount of affection he now felt towards you.

How could he reason now? The only barrier between him and his urges was the thought of rejection, but now you were holding him. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes and kissing the top of your head. He rested his back against the wall, sitting in your bed with you by his side, holding him, and nothing else mattered anymore.

Rivers was comfortably tucked in the cotton inside your scarf, sleeping soundly, and you were comfortably positioned with your head against his shoulder, arms wrapped securely around him and not letting go. He grabbed his book from the nightstand and opened it, reading with his free arm around you, holding you close.

However, this position was extremely comfortable, which led him to fall asleep, his hand holding the book now laying limp against his legs while still holding you. 

A few hours into the night, you woke up from Rivers’ slight movements inside your scarf. Your eyes fluttered open and you were immediately met with a pleasant smell; Orter’s. It barely took you a second to understand what kind of position the two of you were in, but this time there was no such thing as embarrassment. 

You simply reached for his glasses, taking them off and folding them delicately onto the nightstand, before you felt him slightly toss at your movements and, without warning, he completely laid down and pulled you against him, tightly holding you in his arms. Only then were you embarrassed.

What would the best approach be when both of you would wake up? Should you just go with the flow, or pretend you didn’t notice what happened? No, no. This would be Orter’s choice. If he decided to keep holding you while both of you were awake, you would gladly accept it. But then if he decided to pretend nothing happened, you’d oblige as well. 

But you didn’t concern yourself with any of this any further and simply didn’t resist his pull, letting him hold you close to him, with Rivers between the two of you, truly an adorable picture, you thought. It felt comforting and soothing, and you had no trouble falling back asleep even though you weren’t really that tired anymore.

…

As soon as Orter woke up, he had the reflex to pull you closer to him and move your hair away from your face before he realised what he was doing. He slowly pulled away, reluctantly leaving your embrace. Maybe, just maybe you hadn’t noticed any of this and he would be able to play dumb. 

He puts his glasses back on, not remembering when he took them off… but it didn’t matter. He simply sat on the opposite bed and grabbed his book again, throwing sneaky glances at you to see when you’d wake up.

It took you something like an hour to emerge completely, sitting up on your bed with Rivers partially out of the scarf now. You rubbed your hands against your face and took a deep breath, looking around you. Orter was sitting on his own bed… was that all a dream? No, no. The images from last night were way too vivid for your imagination to have created them. 

Then… was he going to say anything about it? You looked at him and he simply greeted you. “Good morning, (Y/N). How did you sleep?” His tone was still neutral, but it felt a little softer than usual. So he decided to play dumb, huh? Luckily, you were dumber.

“Oh, good morning. I slept like a baby. How’d you sleep?” 

He cleared his throat slightly at your words. Did you… did you know? Were you playing dumb with him? He narrowed his eyes slightly before pushing his glasses up a little. “I slept very well. What do you mean like a baby?”

You chuckled and sighed. “I mean I kept waking up every hour.” You could see his face become livid, and you held your laughter back. “I’m joking. I slept really, really well for some reason, I don’t know.”

“Oh, that is… good to know.” He coughed and felt the urge to divert your attention to something else. “Hey, didn’t… didn’t Rivers grow overnight?” At first it was only this, a mere attempt to make you focus on something else. But as he looked at Rivers, he realised that he was right. It had grown longer and heavier, too. It was now roughly the size of your arm, in both length and girth. 

Just how much was the little one going to grow? And what would the teacher even say? What would Rivers’ colour patterns be? So many questions without an answer, but you were sure it was all going to be fine. Somehow, the idea of having Orter with you through this comforted you into thinking such a thing. 

Somehow.

And you weren’t surprised anymore when, everyday for the following week, you woke up finding Rivers gradually getting bigger and bigger. It was getting heavy, but it was still a really cuddly, friendly creature. It was weird, the way it absorbed emotions.

What was it absorbing to grow so quickly? Orter had a flying suspicion on what it was, but he was going to take this secret to the grave, or so it seemed. You, on the other hand, were clueless. You were now on the sixth day and the little one was not so little anymore. 

Rivers seemed ready to shed and you would soon have to bring it to the teacher so they could reveal its colours. You were quite excited at the thought of discovering the beautiful patterns on its scales, and also the other students’ snakes. How did they all turn out, in the end? Would you also be allowed to keep Rivers?

…

It was still early in the evening and you were laying in bed. Orter was sitting on the chair by the nightstand, holding the snake and looking at it, rubbing its neck and patting its head. It was quite a cute display, really, and he was faintly smiling as well…

You shook your head slightly, dismissing these intrusive thoughts that started slithering into your mind, and decided to focus on the snake. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't guess what patterns it had, and you were getting pretty impatient.

Orter stood up from the chair and settled himself in his bed, back against the wall  with Rivers resting against his chest, one of his hands kind of resting against it as if holding it close to him. He grabbed his book and started reading, sometimes glancing at the snake and mumbling incomprehensible things to it. 

You decide to get out of your bed and sit on the edge of his to pet Rivers, and he immediately lowers his book and puts it away. “I don’t know if it was supposed to grow that much?” You wonder, out loud. “The ones we saw were… well, much smaller, right?”

Orter looks at the snake and boops its head. “Mmm.” He hums softly before raising an eyebrow and chuckling quietly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a big baby. Aren’t you, Rivers?”

You looked away from him immediately, hearing him speak to the snake in such a calm, tender tone was too much for your heart to handle and you were about to explode in a loud screech at how utterly adorable that was, and how you didn’t expect this. This cold looking, straight-faced man had been acting so tenderly these last few days, you didn’t even know if he was the guy you had been paired up with anymore.

You wanted to ask why he changed so much and what happened, but would he not take offence? Still avoiding his eyes, you thought of a way to ask him.

“You sure grew softer these last few days, Orter.” Your tone wasn’t aggressive nor mocking, and was accompanied with a faint, gentle smile so he wouldn’t think you’re criticising him. And it didn’t seem to bother him at all, his eyes travelled from the snake to your own, looking like he was forcing himself to look cold and distant.

“Did I, now?”

“Definitely. It’s… strange.” You trailed off, then realised he could take it in a bad way. “I mean— not bad. It’s different. It’s… unexpected? I um…” You were stuttering now and panicking slightly, not wanting to upset him or anything. “I think it’s very—” lovely? Or perhaps likeable? Both options could make it seem like you were confessing, really.

“I know you mean it in a good way, you don’t have to torture yourself like this.” 

You exhaled in relief at his understanding and looked out the window. You knew that tomorrow, this lovely little assignment would be over, and it made you feel a little bitter. The thought of having to let go of this little routine you had quickly gotten used to was filling you with emptiness, ironically. 

Only two things were certain in your mind right now: you wanted to keep both of them. How did a cold jerk and a snake become that important to you in such a short amount of time?

Your eyes travelled to Orter’s face again, taking in this gentle expression of his, and now it was starting to make sense. The reason why you couldn't take your eyes off him, why your heart was going crazy at every single touch of his hand.

You had fallen for this guy. Hard.

The thought made you blush slightly, and he pretended not to notice. Did he even like you… back? Did he simply put his rude, cold personality on hold just for the assignment? Was his old self going to resurface then? Was it really the end of these good times? If you could keep Rivers, maybe Orter would stay, too? 

You were spiralling into overthinking once again, and didn’t notice his golden eyes on yours while you were simply staring off. He didn’t say anything and merely looked at your troubled expression, slightly amused. It had become a little game of his own now, trying to guess whatever was going through your mind when you stared off like this.

“You should probably sleep, you look pretty tired.” Orter said, in a very gentle tone you had grown accustomed to, maybe a bit too much. But sleeping was a bit like time travelling; you close your eyes and suddenly wake up a little later into the future. You didn’t want that, you wanted this moment to last for as long as it could.

“Absolutely not.” You muttered, and for a second, your tone had him slightly worried, but he wasn’t going to question it. He simply grabbed Rivers and came sitting next to you to let you hold it. For a split second, the thought of asking him to hold you while you two were sitting and looking at the snake crossed your mind; you didn’t. You couldn’t. 

The very simple feeling of sitting next to him, his leg and arm against yours, was intoxicating enough, but it wasn’t enough, so to speak. It was getting later and later and you just wanted to hold on to this moment, you were unspeakably exhausted but you couldn’t let go. Your entire personality (and his) had shifted in only a fortnight and you weren’t sure how you managed to live like this before. 

Orter’s mind, on the other hand, wasn’t going through angst the way yours was. He could only tell you were very agitated, and as dense as he was, thought that maybe, just earlier, you weren’t staring at him for no reason. He knew you were falling asleep already but kept holding on to awakeness, and it somehow felt really cute to him.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know?”

That sigh you didn’t know you were holding finally came out, and as if his words were a lullaby, you started falling asleep again, sitting next to him, not caring about your head that threatened to fall limp against his shoulder anymore. With this, you just… let go.

The noise of your front door closing brought you out of your trip down to memory lane. Everything in there was so vivid you could’ve sworn it happened yesterday, or the week prior. You closed your diary and walked towards the vivarium in your room, taking Rivers out of it and carrying it over your shoulders as you walked downstairs. 

Grocery bags all over the kitchen floor, he went all out this time, you thought, but at least there was enough material to make some really good dinner. 

“I’ve been reading the diary I was keeping during our graduate years.” You chuckled and held Rivers up, another pair of hands catching it and letting it slither around these arms. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? That was so long ago, but I can remember it all very clearly.”

“Mm, no wonder, it’s the same for me.” Orter said as he ran his fingers against Rivers’ beautiful red, flowery patterns. With a very slight smile on his lips, only for you, he simply took off his coat and hung it in the entrance before wrapping his arms around your waist, planting a quick kiss on your lips, as usual. 

“There’s so much stuff, I don’t even know what I could cook with all of this.” You muttered, resting your head against his chest, and he merely chuckled once more and kissed the top of your head.

“Let’s just eat outside tonight, darling.”

Maybe group assignments aren’t always the worst. 

..........................................................

taglist: @babyorphanstastegood @squishychongyun

[aldryrththerainbowheart]

Jason Todd loves to travel to cozy forest cabin getaways with you

🍂 Especially in the middle of autumn/one the cusp of winter. A little strange, considering people usually prefer spring, summer or at least warmer months of autumn. You asked him about it once, he said it's the calmness of the forest that's preparing for winter.

Like everything's falling asleep. Calm, quiet, undisturbed by anything.

🍂 You have one place surrounded by mountains that you book year in advance and visit every year for a week. It's a long wooden hut made of layered logs with stone fireplace and terrace window overlooking nature. Nestled on the high slope right under the mountain, it offers a beautiful view of valley with river curling like a snake through the slopes and acres upon acres of ancient pine trees.

🍂 He makes sure you're stocked with everything you need. Even the things you don't need but he bought them because he knew you liked them. Your favorite coffee, dried fruits and nuts, his favorite beef jerky, soup cans, store bought dough for pizza, fresh buns and cinnamon buns, eggs for morning omelettes, pumkin spice and ingredients for simmer pot (you taught him to drink that pretty quickly).

🍂 It's that calm quiet routine he falls into wih you there that he loves the most. You wake up late, burried under the patterned blankets, to a cold autumn morning with golden-brown leaves falling behind your window. He doesn't want to let you go until you bribe him with fresh coffee. It another half an hour before you get out of bed, either talking or reading your respective books you brought with you. Then and only then, you get out of bed. Usually one makes breakfeast while other gets ready or sits at the dining table. You rarely use that table, usually taking the food either outside on the terrace, the couch or bed.

🍂 Your days are filled with hiking and walks through the wilderness. Each morning greets you with the soft light of dawn as you lace up your hiking boots, ready to explore the outdoors. The air is fresh and crisp, filled with the earthy scents of pine and wildflowers.

As you venture deeper into the wild, you find yourself surrounded by towering trees that sway gently in the breeze. You might encounter babbling brooks that meander through the landscape, their crystal-clear waters shimmering in the sunlight. With every step, you are greeted by the symphony of nature—the cheerful chirping of birds, the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush, and the distant sounds of nature that fill the air with tranquility.

Each hike offers its own unique adventure: sometimes you climb to breathtaking vistas that reveal sprawling valleys below, while other times, you wander through serene glades where wild animals may cross your path. You take the time to pause and appreciate the beauty around you, capturing moments with photographs or simply soaking in the sights and sounds.

In the evenings, as the sun sets and casts a warm glow across the horizon, you reflect on the day’s explorations, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for the connection you have with nature. Whether trekking through rugged mountain terrain or strolling along peaceful forest paths.

🍂 Unlike eating times, your walks are usually filled with peacefull silence, disturbed only by the sounds of rustling leaves, crunching of branches under your feet or animals. Speak of which, you were pretty nervous when you encountered bear or moose, but Jason assured you that as long as you don't bother them, they won't bother you. You didn't know that wolves are so much bigger that a dog until a pack of them was chilling early in the morning around your cabin.

🍂 You make sure to bring your beaten-down old camera on these trips. Because some of these breathtaking sights cannot be captured by a phone. You have tons of them with beautiful sighs of nature, that one time you decided to go up the mountain slope, and the little fox family you stumbled upon. There's also plenty of pictures of Jason, sometimes taken without his knowledge. It's a rare sight when you manage to see that expression of pure serenity on his face, let alone capture it on the camera. There's one you cherish the most. It was taken when you climbed up the hill to a clearing. The sunlight is still peeking over the mountains and is shining directly on his back. He looks to the side and light illuminates his face perfectly, tracing the lines of his face in light and shadow. Dark strands peek from underneath his beanie and his neck is buriend in the scarf you made him. A fog is rising from his lips and one green eye is cast in sunlight. In the background, a blurried out expanse of forest and mountaintops. A copy of this photo made its way to the Wayne manor.

🍂 In the evenings, you cook dinner together and then either play boardgames or, you guessed it, read some more. Jason always looks forward to cooking dinner with you. You blast music for your portable radio, you mess with each other by throwing bits of food and argue what toppings should or should not go on a pizza. You test out what board games would stand the trial on the game nights with his family and you always end with cards against humanity. Your always at disadvantage when playing Black Stories. It's not your fault you're not detective like someone.

🍂 Out of all activities, your absolute favorite undoubtedly has to be stargazing with Jason. There’s something truly magical about those nights spent together, standing under the open sky, clean of the polution of Gotham city.

In those quiet moments, as you both gaze up at the milions of twinkling lights, you feel a deep sense of peace and connection. The cool night air envelops you, and every sigh, every laugh, and every shared dream feels amplified against the backdrop of shimmering constellations. With Jason by your side, it’s not just about the beauty of the night's sky; it's about the warmth of his presence, the quiet conversations that stretch into the night, and the comfort of knowing that you’re sharing these moments with the person you love most. The stars don’t just fill the sky; they light up your hearts, creating a memories that feels timeless and everlasting.