#what's better than PEACH PIES??

[kaleldobrev]

Mutual Pining

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean and you are in love with each other, and it's obvious to everyone but the two of you

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Cursing (10x), Mutual Pining, Fluff

Authors Note: Switches between reader and Deans “POV” but still written in the third person | This came out a lot longer than I thought, but I loved the way it turned out! I hope you guys do too! | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

For as long as you’ve known Dean, he has always been incredibly nice to you, which initially surprised you given his gruff exterior. Growing up, you were always told to never judge a book by its cover, and things aren’t always what they seem to be; and you had felt that this truly applied to Dean. Despite his appearance (although a very attractive one you had to admit) and his very I don’t give a fuck attitude he sometimes gave off, he was genuinely one of the nicest, funniest, charismatic, loving, and selfless people that you have ever met in your entire life. He was just someone that wanted more than anything to love someone (to be loved by someone) – and craved touch.

He was a catch in all senses of the word: he was smart, sexy, cute, he could sing (well not good, but at least he liked doing karaoke!), he could cook and bake (you were teaching him a lot about baking lately, even though he did already know a thing or two), he was handy (both when it came to cars and household maintenance), and he was a nerd (Star Wars, horror movies, Star Trek, cartoons, you name it). For as long as you had known him, it amazed you that someone hadn’t snatched him up yet. Well, you knew about some of these instances (Cassie or Lisa for example), but Dean seemed to be under the impression that the reason it never seemed to work out with these women is because of the job, or he would blame himself. “I just don’t think you found the right woman yet.” You had told him. This had earned you a weird look from Dean, and since then, you hadn’t given your two cents into his love life, despite being one of his closest confidants.

For as long as Dean has known you, you’ve always been incredibly nice to him; even when he knew he didn’t deserve it. When he had met you years ago, it took him by surprise to find out that you were a hunter given your exterior and extremely bubbling personality and positive energy that you radiated (he would later come to start calling you Sunshine as he considered you the light of his life in his ever so present and consistent cloudy days he called his life). “Just because you’re a hunter, doesn’t mean you have to be depressed all the time.” You had said to him. “But we’ve all witnessed and endured horrible things. Don’t know how you can still be so happy.” He had said back to you. You had simply shrugged stating, “You have your way of coping, and I have mine.” What Dean had initially thought that he hated about you (you being that Ray of Sunshine) had actually grown into something that he would love and appreciate about you.

Something that he always tended to carry in the back of his mind is quote that you had frequently said: Never judge a book by its cover, and things aren’t always what they seem to be; and he felt that your quote really did apply to you. Despite the type of energy that you give off, and despite your colorful array of clothing, you were genuinely one of the best hunters that he has ever met or worked with in his life.

You were a catch in all senses of the word. You were smart, cunning, funny, cute, sexy (even when you weren’t even remotely trying to be). You knew how to cook and bake (he was particularly fond of your peach and apple pies that you had made), you could sing (despite you saying how awful you were, your voice had sounded like honey to him), and you knew how to shoot a gun almost as good as him (in reality, you were probably a much better shot, but he would never admit that). It amazed him that you hadn’t settled down yet, even though he knew that was something that you had wanted to do at some point in your life. “I guess I just haven’t found the right yet guy. Just like how you haven’t found the right woman yet.” You had told him. “He’s sitting right in front of you Sunshine,” he had desperately wanted to say to you.

It was a lazy Sunday at the Bunker, and since there was no cases you had decided that you were going to do some baking today. You had promised Dean that you would him your famous peach and apple pie sometime this week, and since that was something you promised him last Tuesday, you were getting near close to almost falling through with your promise – something that you didn’t want to do, especially when it came to Dean.

Dean didn’t ask for much. So when he asked ever so politely if you could make this for him adding “no rush of course” at the end of his request, you were more than happy to oblige. This man has saved your ass more times than you could possibly count, and never asked for anything in return. So, the least you could do for the man was bake him a pie right?

Walking into the kitchen you were wearing your comfy clothes which consisted of a very faded AC/DC shirt that Dean had lent you they you had never given back (to be fair, he never asked for it back), a plain hot pink sweatshirt, black sweatpants and hot pink fuzzy socks.

Rolling up your sleeves, you walked over to the cabinet to grab everything they you would need in order to make the pie for Dean. Technically speaking, you were making the pie for everyone to enjoy, but you knew the second Dean for a whiff of the peachy and appley goodness, he would most likely hoard this (not that you had a problem with that, you were happy that he enjoyed your cooking and baking that much).

Placing your phone on the counter, you decided to play some music, picking the playlist you had rightfully named “Baking/Cooking Jams” (pun intended), so the quietness didn’t seem so eerie to you. You didn’t like the quiet at times, but you had such fond memories of singing along and dancing along to the music when you were a little girl in the kitchen with your mom or grandma.

One of the things that you appreciated, was the fact that none of the boys made fun of you while you did this (not that it would have bothered you if they did), but you half expected one of them to say something. The closest any of them had gotten to “making fun” of or commenting on your dance moves or singing had come from Dean, and his comments which very complimentary. You were so thrown off, that at first you thought he was fucking with you.

It’s been almost a week since Dean had requested you make your famous peach and apple pie, and there was a part of him that was starting to get just a tad disappointed when you hadn’t made it yet. But one of the things that was holding him together, was the fact that you always kept your promises and followed through with them (it was one of the things that he loved about you. He had asked for the pie on Tuesday, and it was now Sunday. He had wanted to re-ask you, but decided against it because he didn’t want to seem pushy and he didn’t want to bother you with what he seemed to be a silly request. “You could never bother her Dean. Trust me.” Sam had told him numerous times.

As Dean walked down the hallway of the Bunker, he could hear the quiet sounds of your music coming from the kitchen. The only reason he knew that it was your music is because he recognized the current song that was playing as a part of “Baking/Cooking Jams” playlist (pun intended). He smiled, hoping that since you were listening to this playlist it meant that you were baking something - specifically, baking the pie that you had promised him.

Dean peaked his head into the kitchen and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight before him. You were bopping your head, quietly singing along, and shaking your shoulders to the music as you were lining a tin with your homemade pie crust. You were wearing your hot pink sweatshirt (something that he loved always seeing you wear) and your fuzzy socks (another thing that he secretly loved). Wonder what’s underneath. Hope it’s one of my shirts…or nothing at all…He thought to himself. No Dean, don’t think that way.

Almost as if you could read his mind (which he knew you couldn’t do and was extremely thankful that you couldn’t) you stopped your dancing and looked at him, giving him the biggest smile you could muster up. “Hey you!” Your voice sounded so cheerful, so inviting, it practically made him melt.

“Hey Sunshine.” He said, walking into the kitchen and making his way to the island. “Whatcha making?” He asked, as if he couldn’t tell from the fresh cut apples and peaches on the counter in front of him.

“Your favorite.” You smiled, alternating between placing the peaches and apples into the pie tin. “Sorry it took so long Dean.”

Your apology surprised him. “Why are you saying sorry?” He questioned; you literally had no reason to be apologizing to him right now.

“Well, I know you asked for this Tuesday and it’s Sunday now.” Your voice that was once full of joy, was now sounding almost slightly sad and embarrassed, almost as if you were disappointed in yourself. “I swear I didn’t forget. Got a bit sidetracked with research this week.” You looked down just then, finishing up with the filling.

“Hey.” He began to say and you looked up at him. “Please don’t apologize for something like that okay?” You nodded. “Need any help?”

You shook your head. “I’m good Dean. But thanks for the offer.” You said, placing the pie into the oven.

“It’ll be ready soonish.” You gave him a smile. He could sense that you were trying to go back to your joyful voice, but you seemed still slightly upset, despite you having no reason to be.

Although you said you didn’t need the help, Dean started to gather all of the dirty dishes that you had made while you were baking. “Dean, you don’t have to do that.” You said as you watched him bring all of the dishes into the sink.

He turned the faucet on and looked at you. “It’s the least I can do Y/N.”

“I would have done it.” You walked over to the sink, picking up a dish rag and started drying the dishes he was finished washing. He looked at you briefly before letting out a small chuckle. “What?”

“Sweetheart, no you wouldn’t have. You would have left the dishes in the sink and I would have come to clean them up anyway. I know you love baking and cooking, but you hate the clean up.” You had started to open your mouth to comment, but you knew what he had said to you was the truth. Yes, you didn’t mind doing dishes, but you hated doing a large amount of dishes.

“I see Y/N finally made you your pie.” Sam said, gesturing to the giant slice of pie that Dean came walking into the War Room with.

Dean walked over with the biggest smile on his face. “It’s her best one yet.” Dean said, mouth full of pie. He sat down across from Sam who was on his laptop. “I really do think the singing and dancing helps.”

“I don’t know why you just don’t tell her.” Sam said.

“She knows I like her singing and dancing.” Dean took a mouthful of pie and Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his brother.

“I mean how you feel about her.” Sam’s comment had made Dean stop chewing his pie mid bite before he gulped it down.

Dean went to open his mouth, to say something, but he couldn’t think of anything clever or snarky to say. “I’ll pass.” He decided to say.

“You’ll…pass? What does that even mean?” For as long as Sam had been around you and Dean, it seemed completely obvious to everyone that you two had feelings for each other, but for some reason, it seemed like neither of you understood that you two had feelings for each other.

“I said, I’ll pass.” Dean repeated. “What about that can’t you wrap your head around?”

“Dean, you’ve been in love with Y/N since you’ve met her. Which, honestly, is quite a record.” Sam had never seen his brother be so in love with someone before, let alone being in love with someone for as long as he had been in love with you.

“Look Sam, she doesn’t like me in the way okay? I’ve made my peace with that. Why would I tell her that I love her if she doesn’t feel the same way? Sounds very silly to me.” Dean got up from his chair and walked out of the room with this now empty plate.

You were lying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you researching. You weren’t really researching anything in particular, just random things that had peaked your interest. As you were typing away, a small knock came from the other side of your door. “Who is it?” You asked.

“It’s Sam.”

“Come in!” You called back, the door opening and quickly shutting just as fast. You questioned the abruptness of the door. “Everything alright?”

“Peachy.” Sam replied. He pointed to the edge of your bed. “Can I sit?” You nodded.

“Did you get to try any of the pie yet? Or did Dean finish it already?” You joked, closing your laptop.

“No, not yet. He uh, he didn’t finish it yet shockingly.” Sam’s expression looked at you more serious now. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” You smiled.

“Have you ever thought about telling Dean how you feel?” His question seemed to be coming out of nowhere.

“I…No.” You had wanted to tell Dean more than anything how you felt about him, but you knew that he didn’t feel the same way about you. “Why would I tell Dean that I love him when I know for a fact that he doesn’t feel the same way? It’s a little silly don’t you think?” Sam couldn’t help but almost let out a laugh. You two really are meant for each other. Sam thought to himself.

“But what if, there actually is a chance that he loves you too?” Sam asked.

You laughed. “Don’t you think he would have told me by now?”

“What if he’s afraid of the same thing you are?”

“Meaning…?” You weren’t completely sure of the point that Sam was trying to make to you.

“Meaning, what if he loves you too but thinks that you don’t love him back?” You furrowed your brow at Sam’s question.

“Dean afraid of telling me how he feels?” You laughed. “He doesn’t love me Sammy, trust me. I know what he looks like when he’s in love, and that ain’t the same way he looks at me.”

“Are you sure about that?” Sam challenged.

Dean and you both were laying awake at night, thinking about the comments that Sam had said to the both of you. The both of you had similar thoughts in your minds: Does Dean really love me? Does Y/N really love me? Have I been reading the signals all wrong?

“Sam wouldn’t just bring that up if he didn’t say something right?” You said quietly aloud to yourself.

“Did Y/N say something to him?” Dean said quietly aloud to himself.

“I could easily ask him.” You said.

“No, no. I can’t just ask her.” Dean said.

“Sam’s fucking with me.” You and Dean said in unison.

“No…Sam wouldn’t do that.” You rationalized with yourself.

“No, Sam wouldn’t fuck with me like that.” Dean rationalized with himself.

“He’s literally right down the fucking hall. I could just…be hypothetical?” You questioned.

“It’s three in the morning. She’s probably sleeping.” He said.

“Fuck it.” You two said in unison, both practically jumping out of your beds.

You opened your door and started making your way down the hall. As you were walking, you were trying to keep your composure despite how nervous you were in that moment. “Don’t chicken out now Y/N.” You mumbled.

“Alright. You got this. You got this.” Dean mumbled. “Don’t be a pussy now.”

Your head was down, but just up enough to catch yourself if someone else was in the hallway. As you were walking you noticed Dean coming down the hallway, he seemed nervous and you wondered why.

“Fuck I can’t do this.” You whispered and started turning around back toward your room.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice had made you stop in your tracks, making you turn back toward him.

“Hey.” You tried to make your breath even. “What are…What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He replied.

“I asked you first.” You said.

“I…Wanted to talk to you.” He sounded so nervous.

“At three in the morning?” You questioned.

“Yeah I uh…You know what, this can wait till later.” He said, starting to turn back into the direction of his room.

For some reason you had found yourself running after him, like you were in some cheesy romcom that you both secretly loved. “Wait.” You grabbed his arm, and he almost spun back in your direction.

Dean looked at you before looking at your hand. It amazed him each and every time how soft they had felt whenever you touched him. God, what I’d do to feel your hands all over. He thought to himself. “What’s up?”

“Dean…” He watched you take a deep breath. You were nervous and he could tell. He had known you long enough to know what you were feeling by just your body language.

You removed your hand from his arm, and he already missed the contact. “Y/N?” He asked.

“I uh…Can we talk in your room?” You asked, and he found himself automatically nodding.

“Of course.” He gave you a smile, hoping that would comfort you in some way.

You didn’t realize how nervous you truly were until you had made your way into Dean’s room. You had been in his room numerous of times (even spending the night in here) and it always strangely gave you comfort, but not in this moment. It was one of the rare occurrences in which even the calmness his room usually gave you, ceased to help you.

Dean shut the door behind you, something that made you even more nervous. You weren’t afraid that the door was shut, a majority of the time you and him had been in your room or his room, the door was usually shut. “I can, I can leave it open if you want?” He almost questioned, gesturing toward the door.

“No. No. It’s fine.” You said. “Can I…Mind if I sit on your bed?” You asked. It felt strange asking to sit on his bed. In normal circumstances, you would have just walked into his room and just sat down, never asking if you could first. Something that you were now realizing, was that you were the only person that never had to ask if you could sit down on his bed - everyone else had to ask him.

“You know you don’t have to ask.” Dean sat down on the edge of his bed and patted the spot next to him, in which you hesitantly sat down.

Dean looked into your eyes as you sat down next to him, placing your hands on your thighs. You rubbed them up and down. It kills me to see how nervous you are. He thought to himself, so badly wanting to say it out loud to you. “Sorry. I don’t know why I’m nervous.” You let out a small, nervous chuckle. It made his heart ache.

“I’m nervous too.” He said, hoping that it would make you somehow less nervous.

“Why are you nervous?” You asked. Crap. How do I answer that? He thought to himself.

“Probably for the same reason you are.” He looked at your face, looking for some kind of hint of what you possibly could be thinking.

“I highly doubt that.” You looked away, and folded your hands as if you were back in school, patiently waiting for the teacher to give you instructions.

It started to seem very evident to Dean now, that you were either nervous because Sam was right - you did in fact love him, or you were nervous because you were trying to figure out the best way to tell him that you didn’t feel the same way that he did about you. Either way, it scared him.

“I…I thought this would be easier somehow.” You admitted, after what seemed like a forever amount of silence between the two of you.

“I feel like I friggin teenager.” Dean joked, you knew he was trying his best to lighten the mood.

“Same here.” You gave him a nervous smile. “Um…Dean…” You took a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to tell him, while at the same time, talking yourself out of telling him. “You know you’re my best friend right?”

“You know you’re my best friend right?” There is was, the sentence that he didn’t want to hear.

“Yeah.” He said, feeling his heart quickly sinking into the pit of his stomach.

“And you know I appreciate you more than anything.” You couldn’t even look at him; he wasn’t sure if that was better or worse somehow.

He reached out for your arm, gently grabbing it. “I appreciate you too Sweetheart. And I know I don’t tell you that enough.”

“Don’t be silly. You show me plenty.” Your statement was true, he may not have realized it, but there were plenty of times when he had found himself doing things to show you how much he truly cared and appreciated you, even when he didn’t outright tell you - you were the same way. You sighed. “Dean –”

“Before you say anything, I just want to tell you that whatever you say to me, our friendship is never gonna change. I won’t hate you. I could never hate you, okay?” He wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you, or reassure himself in that moment.

“Here it goes then.” You took yet another deep breath.

“Fuck it.” You heard Dean mumble. Not even getting a second to react, his lips were suddenly on yours. His lips were just as soft as you had thought that they would be. Despite wanting to kiss him for as long as you had known him, you never thought that this is how your first kiss with him was going to go.

The kiss was quick, and not nearly as long as you had wanted it to be. He released his lips from yours and he stared at you blankly, almost embarrassed. “Sorry.” Dean said. “I uh…” He was actually speechless. “Shit.” He let go of your arms.

“Sammy was right.” He hears you mumble.

“What did my brother tell you?” He needed to know how badly the damage control was going to be, and how much he was going to kill his brother.

“He…He asked me if I um…If I ever thought about telling you how I feel.” So Sammy got to you too huh, Dean thought. “I told him that it would be silly of me to tell you how I felt because I knew you didn’t feel the same way.” You chuckled, nervously. “I guess…I guess I was wrong.”

“I told Sammy the same thing earlier.” He admitted. “As much as I wanted to tell you…” He trailed off, unsure of what he had wanted to say next, because there was so much he had wanted to say to you.

“You didn’t want to ruin our friendship in case I didn’t feel the same way.” You said, practically finishing his sentence for him. “I felt the same way. I mean, you know just as well as I do how hard it is to find people you can trust and rely on. I love both of you, and I didn’t want to say or do anything that would of fucked my relationship up with you guys.”

“So, what do we do now?” You asked, unsure of what was going to happen next. Just because the two of you had admitted your feelings for each other, doesn’t mean that you would actually do anything about it. As much as you had wanted to try out a relationship with Dean, you knew that he wasn’t much of the relationship type – then again, maybe it was because he hadn’t found the right person?

Dean looked over at the clock, noticing that it was almost 4:30 in the morning. He looked back over to you, almost looking too tired. “You spend the night in here with me. Or, morning in here with me.”

“And do what Dean?” You asked, curious as there could be a million things on his mind.

“Just lay here together…” He began to say, slightly pulling you in close. “Maybe cuddle…” He continued, leaning in slightly, inches away from your lips.

“Do some more kissing maybe…?” You whispered, slightly questioning. “Or are you too tired?”

“Hmmm, don’t think I’d ever be tired enough to not kiss you Sunshine.” He smiled tiredly, leaning in and kissing you again.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you would like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[jnnul]

peaches

sum.: when you pie your [really-hot] neighbor in the face on accident, you never imagine that you’re gonna have to be wheeling him to the hospital because who the fuck is allergic to peaches? yang jungwon, apparently. but you come to learn that yang jungwon is so much more than his unfortunate allergy to peaches and his pretty face and you’re stuck wondering if falling in love with someone you can’t have is worth it.

word count: 2.9k

tags: this one’s sad bois, bullet fic, like ngl, when i was planning this one, i teared up a little bit, sorry in advance tw: major character death, terminal illness, just...not meant for the weak-hearted

a/n: literally all i can say i’m sorry :( can’t believe my first fic for jungwon is this sad nonsense i conjured up literally last year

you didn’t mean to pie your extremely attractive neighbor in the face

and you definitely didn’t mean to have to take him to the hospital because apparently, your hot neighbor was allergic to peaches

who’s fucking allergic to peaches?

yang jungwon, apparently

you didn’t even know what he looked like until you had to drive him to the hospital in your stupid beat up toyota bc his face was bright red and splotchy

and he kept itching it

which then meant that you had to swat at his hand every so often

it was not the first impression you wanted to make on such a pretty man

you vividly remember sitting in the waiting room, knee bouncing in fear that you may have accidentally killed the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life

or that you would have to pay his hospital bills for the rest of his life

fuck american healthcare (and the collegiate system)

only to find out that he was absolutely fine. in fact. he knew the doctor there. not only did he know the doctor. he worked for the doctor. 

he had insurance.

you had been betrayed.

not really. you didn’t exactly give him a chance to tell you that you didn’t need to take out a debt creating loan to pay his hospital bills

you were too busy trying not to cry as you sped down the interstate in hopes that your decision to take the toyota instead of paying another $4000 for the ambulatory fee was the correct decision

it was.

so when jungwon walks out with an itemized bill and a sheepish, almost silly smile, you nearly fall to your knees in gratitude in the middle of the waiting room

you’re pretty sure that some of those people are convinced jungwon beat cancer bc of the relief on your face when you see the 0 next to copay on the bill

you could kiss jungwon but his face still looks a little too splotchy to be doing that

and you tell him as much but he just laughs, shaking his head a little bit

“so you’re saying you would kiss me if i didn’t look so splotchy?”

“i’m saying i’m going to kiss your insurance provider and i’m switching mine to yours today.”

anyway

after nearly losing your hot neighbor to justin bieber’s hit song, you finally start getting closer to him

it turns out that you had meant to pie yours and jungwon’s mututal friend and down the hall neighbor, jake sim, from whom he was renting out the apartment for the summer

but jake had the reflexes of a fucking ninja and had ducked and jungwon had the privilege of being pied instead

you had knocked on jake’s door and as soon as someone opened the door, you pied them with no thoughts and no turnback

jungwon had opened the door though, and the rest was history

you guys had a very neighborly relationship

jungwon would come home after a long day of summer classes, internships, and work and you cook jungwon (peach-less) baked goods that he could die for

and when you would complain abt your broke ass, he would buy enough groceries for the two of you and you would go to his place or he would come to yours

the stubborn struggling artist in you always protested

“i can’t let you buy this for me! groceries are so expensive nowadays!”

“if it makes you feel better, these aren’t organic. in fact that avocado looks like it’s on life support.”

“...”

but you also end up coming over to his place whenever he has a quick repair or smth bc the landlord doesn’t know a screw from a lightbulb

so he insists that it all cancels out in the end

but you hates taking jungwon’s help (or any help in general you stubborn ass)

so you got onto the summer job hunt grind

but it was pretty late, almost the middle of june, and not many places were hiring

thankfully, jake sim was loaded

and he was going to europe for the rest of the summer

randomly

bc apparently that’s what rich people do

so you were able to take his role temporarily at the local dance studio that jake taught at

not that jake needed the money

but he said smth about “passing on the passion” and “encouraging the next generation of dancers”

you kinda stopped listening once you saw pics of him in leotards that left nothing to the imagination

scrubbing the mental image from your mind was hard enough

you weren’t the best ballet dancer, but you had danced for 10 years in contemporary before a foot injury knocked you out of dancing for good

so you definitely had the experience (and a semi-healed foot) that you needed

and besides! as an education major, you needed experience with working with students anyway

or at least that’s what you tell yourself

because you forget how terrifying little human beings are until you step into the studio

and every single one of them is wearing some lululemon or aritzia variation

and you’re...kinda just wearing your old tights and a loose shirt

not in a quirky “i’m not like other dancers” type of way

a more humble “i can’t afford luxury brands” type of way

no shame in the college grind game

but other than the fact that you felt like you were on an episode of dance moms every day, the classes weren’t that bad

the kids were pretty polite and they generally didn’t really mind that they had a new teacher - although one of them did say that jake was really good eye candy

and that you were gorgeous but not really their type

hey. you’re gorgeous. you’re everyone’s type. in fact, they’d be lucky if you were one’s type.

but you’re also thankful bc it’d be really awkward if your prepubescent students had a crush on you...

speaking of crushes

jungwon was fucking oblivious to yours

he says shit that makes you think that he’s caught on

that he knows that you would cosplay anastasia steele for the rest of your life if it meant he went for a roll in the hay with you

or you know, took you out on a nice, romantic date

you don’t really know how it works nowadays

but every time you think you’ve been discovered, he proceeds to completely do a 180

one time, the two of you were sitting on the couch watching, aptly enough, the notebook

when jungwon leans over incriminatingly, close enough to kiss you and you’re just about to turn your head, excited that jungwon has decided to make the first move

only for him to grab the remote and turn up the volume

which, in hindsight, does nothing to confirm that jungwon feels the same way about you as you feel about him

but it doesn’t really matter

we live in a delusional world and you’re the reigning monarch so it all works in your head

but other than the fact that you were most definitely crushing on your neighbor

the two of you were basically inseparable

it was like some higher being wanted you to suffer

bc you and jungwon got along SO WELL

and he just...didn’t even connect the dots

or if he did, he didn’t say anything about the tension between you two (that you might’ve accidentally somewhat have made up)

but all in all, jungwon and you had a pretty nice summer

some days you’d go to the beach and just watch the stars while drinking beers

some days you’d go to the little kiddie theme park that the neighboring town has just because their fried ice cream was insanely good

“we’re probably going to get diabetes, three different heart conditions, and certified obesity from these things.”

“...well the universe shouldn’t have made the human body too weak for fried ice cream then.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that fried ice cream simply should just not exist?”

“never.”

that summed up pretty much your entire friendship with jungwon

but no matter how close you became with him, it still felt like he was holding himself back a little bit - although, it killed you, you understood

for starters, he’d disappear off the face of the planet for two or three days before coming back to you with the same calm yet insane energy that only jungwon could carry

on top of that, he seemed to be losing a lot of weight lately - which was probably what was leading to the hair loss as well

and whenever you guys weren’t hanging out, he was pretty much always at the hospital

you’d mentioned gently a couple times that you were worried for him bc you were worried that his job was working him too hard (so as to not tip him off)

(hence the long hours at the hospital and the weight/hair loss)

but jungwon always gave you a tight smile and changed the subject

so you slowly learned to just drop it and not push him

you had no clue that jungwon was struggling with how to tell you the truth behind all those hours and the weight loss

you had no clue that jungwon was head over heels in love with you

you, y/n l/n, were completely unaware that jungwon knew exactly how you felt because he felt the same exact way

you had no clue that you were catching feelings for the terminally ill jungwon yang - according to jungwon yang

jungwon had liked you from the beginning, honestly

the almost comical way you fretted over him when you accidentally pied him, only to see rashes on his neck

the way that your eyes would light up when you were talking about how you wanted to teach

the way that your nose crinkled when jungwon brought home asparagus for you to experiment with one day

the way your eyes fall to his lips and then back up hurriedly, as if you’re scared that he’s going to find out you like him the same way that he likes you

which he does.

but jungwon yang also has terminal cancer.

which meant that he was absolutely never going to tell you about his feelings and let you tell him about yours

because he didn’t want to know that when he left this earth, he left someone who loved him behind on it

he’s scared

he’s scared that you wouldn’t move on (was that his ego speaking? perhaps)

or that you wouldn’t understand why jungwon had taken so long to acknowledge his feelings

or worst of all, jungwon was so fucking terrified that you would leave his side if you knew that he had terminal cancer

because that’s a burden that not many people were willing to take on voluntarily

so he stuff his feelings down deep into his stomach, where his heart can’t reach them

and it is the one thing that he regrets most

little does he know that you’re well aware of the fact that jungwon had cancer

jake had called you one day, out of breath and shaken to the core with worry

his friend jungwon had called jake and collapsed mid-call, three days before you met jungwon officially, and the line had gone silent

jake had begged you to drive jungwon to the hospital

which you obviously did, the second you found jake’s spare key

and managed to haul jungwon into your beat up toyota

and even in his semi-conscious state, you couldn’t help but think that he was the most gorgeous person that you’d ever seen in your life

and that you really wanted to get to know him

jungwon never knew that you were the one who had driven him to the hospital, since jake was the only one in the room when he awoke, finding out from the doctor that he had collapsed due to the toll of treatment on his body

you’d instructed jake to keep the news of you driving jungwon a secret

jungwon’s cancer wasn’t exactly public information, and you hated to think that jungwon would have a certain impression of you and that you’d never be able to speak to him normally

which is why you figure that jungwon simply just doesn’t want to want anyone at this point in his life

but you can’t help it

you like him so much that it starts to hurt

and you have to let it out

you have to tell him just how much you love him

before the love starts eating you from inside out

jungwon is silent when you blurt it out one day, while the two of you are standing in the kitchen, cooking with a random louis armstrong song playing in the background

you’re somewhat aware of what jungwon is going to say before he says it

but you let him say it anyway

“i’m not sure i want to get into a relationship right now.”

“that’s fine. i didn’t tell you because i wanted you to respond; i told you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

the louis armstrong song just continues to play and the two of you continue to cook in silence

it never grows awkward between the two of you

even with your feelings out in the open, everything stays the same

the two of you still tiptoe the line of friends and something more without ever crossing over to the other side

until that one day

jungwon had planned to finally put his big boy pants on and tell you how he feels

fuck the cancer

fuck his hesitation

fuck everything

he just wanted you to know that he liked you too

and that you were the reason why he was still smiling and dancing his way through this summer, even though he’d thought that he wouldn’t be able to smile like that anymore

he was all ready too

he’d gotten you flowers, put on your favorite song and cooked you your favorite food

he pushes down the funny feeling in his stomach that had been bugging him for the past couple of days, chalking it up to nerves because he was finally acting on his feelings

but that would be the nail in the coffin

the last thing that jungwon remembered was the feeling of swaying before falling to the floor, seeing jake sim’s shoes run over to where he was

and then everything went black

when jungwon woke up, the doctor had to inform him once again that he had collapsed

that the funny feeling in his stomach was no silly joke, but the cancer attacking him from inside out aggressively

they tell him that they had to perform emergency surgery to replace his kidney, which was damaged beyond repair, something that no one had been able to trace previously

he was lucky, the doctor said to them

there was a patient who was in a car crash in the operating next to him and the kidney had been in perfect condition

the doctor continued, saying how lucky jungwon was that the kidney had been compatible for his body, stating that the likelihood of his body being able to beat the cancer that had been destroying him increasing significantly

but jungwon isn’t listening

everything felt wrong.

jungwon could feel it in his heart

it wasn’t right

he swallows and asks the doctor the name of the patient

but he knows the doctor cannot reveal information like that

it doesn’t matter

once he sees jake burst through the doors, tears streaming down his cheeks, jungwon knows

“it was her, wasn’t it.”

jake just falls to his knees, sobs wracking his body and the doctor sees himself out

“she wanted me to tell you that she was happy that it was her before you.”

jungwon just falls back against the pillow, staring up the ceiling, unable to feel or think of anything

he just felt numb

even at your funeral, just a week later, jungwon is unable to think

he’s numb

completely frozen

unable to move on

and when he’s asked to pay his respects, all he can do is touch your coffin, his tears finally falling

“i’m so grateful you pied me in the face that day, y/n. i wish i had - i wish i had told you, i like you too. and i’ll get pied in the face with a truckload of peaches if it meant that you could come back to me. to come back to me to at least let me tell you that i like you. the same way you like me.”

he laughed cynically through his tears.

“you don’t have to respond. i just wanted to tell you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

jungwon never falls in love again after that, unable to forget the memories the two of you had shared in that short but sweet summer.

and every year, on the year that you’d given your life to jungwon, he eats a peach pie, wishing that you were there to chide him and eat it with you, louis armstrong playing in the background

[cocoa-rococo]

Koopaling Headcanons: Lemmy

Larry | Morton | Wendy | Iggy | Roy | Lemmy | Ludwig

The clown prince of crime and everyone's favorite circus performer! Gosh he's adorable.

Right-handed.

Fairly sensitive about his height. The rest of the Koopa Troop know better than to bring it up. Just. Don't call him short. Last guy who did ended up with more than a broken nose.

Allergic to peanuts, which is unfortunate, because a lot of folks like them roasted at circuses. He likes other nut butters better anyway.

Likes collecting old circus memorabilia, such as posters, small trinkets, and flyers. He started it when he was younger, and has kept it going ever since.

He purposefully lets people underestimate him due to his silly personality and clown aesthetics. Makes it all the sweeter when he ends up with the last laugh.

Can and will juggle just about anything. Ludwig had to stop him on multiple occasions because he was tossing around something dangerous for fun (and profit).

Is very fond of caramel corn and citrus candies, as well as fruit gummies.

Favorite cookies are snickerdoodles and classic chocolate chip, but he loves fruit pies and sweet crêpes for dessert, really anything flaky with layers.

An excellent roller and ice-skater, given his balance. He, Wendy, and Larry like to skate together sometimes.

Very tactile person! Likes giving and receiving hugs, pats on the back, head scratches, and secret handshakes.

Similarly, a tactile learner; if you want him to remember something, give him something he can hold.

Because of his smaller size and how much he moves, any sickness he gets hits him like a truck, but also burns through his system pretty quick.

The only member of the castle with permission to enter Iggy's lab at any time without prior warning or knocking.

Has an almost terrifying amount of emotional intelligence and is very good at sussing out the crux of a relationship problem, sometimes even before the other person does.

Always rehearses his tricks in front of Iggy before anyone else, because he knows he’ll always be guaranteed a laugh, as well as critique on what he can improve on.

One of the lesser strict generals, which the minions are thankful for, but will also ask them to assist in his tricks. This can range anywhere from "hand him something" to "balance on a ball while juggling flaming hammers". The minions are not so thankful for this.

His proficiency with stage illusions actually helped him grasp the concepts of his wand's abilities. Out of the Koopalings, his strength lies in how precise his magic is, able to pull what he needs right when he needs it, as well as being able to divide and manage his concentration.

Likes to exercise with Roy, though he leans more towards yoga and calisthenics than weight training.

He likes all kinds of flowers, but likes seeing cosmos and marigolds the most. Poppies are nice, too.

He can be just as bad as Iggy when it comes to pulling pranks, mainly because no one suspects him; he manages to get out of 99% of situations by pulling the "ohhhh I'm just a lil guy" card.

An alarmingly good impressionist. More than once he fooled the guards into doing something for him by pretending to voice someone else.

Given his small size and how active he is, his metabolism is working overtime to fuel him. He eats almost as much as Larry.

Mastered the art of making the perfect hot chocolate drink, inspired by his trips into the ice lands. Wendy is determined to learn his secret. Lemmy is an adorable steel vault.

If you pick him up or he falls over, he has this… almost ragdoll-like heft to him, with dangly limbs and a little flopping from where you grab him, like he's made of sand or a weighted stuffed animal. The only time this doesn't seem to affect him is when he's on his ball. No one can really explain why this is.

Favorite fruit is any kind of berry, as well as peaches (formed before any interaction with a certain princess).

Morton used to carry him under his arm when they were younger. For what purpose? None know. Lemmy, though, was happy to stay there until he was put down again.

He likes sleeping where he's suspended, like swings, tree tents, and other such places. There was a notable instance where Kamek once found him tucked in his shell and snoozing in an empty hanging plant holder.

Really good at shuffling cards and coin moves, really any sort of street magic or little parlor trick. He's been learning tarot interpretation from Kammy because it's always a hit at parties.

His bombs are his own invention. Iggy helped him develop the combustion system and ratio of powder to use, but the shape, style, and make are all his own. Similarly, the tires he sells for his business are made from the same rubber as his balancing balls.

One of the most agile of all his siblings, and one of the best climbers.

He used to share a bunk bed with Iggy when they were young, but once they got older and had their own separate rooms, he used a hammock instead of a bed. It's quite cozy, with lots of blankets and pillows.

One of his favorite snacks is roasted sunflower seeds with a little salt. Crunchy, and especially tasty after an energetic routine.

The one most likely to lose things. Not because he misplaced them somewhere, but because he made them vanish via magic trick, and can't remember if he re-summoned them again.

Takes any sort of dance class he can. He's energetic and likes being able to move around a lot, but he's especially fond of tap, hip-hop (no pun intended), and ballet. The latter he practices with Wendy.

[felinisnoctis]

Bonded Pairs: Fruits of Progress

prev- next

I seem to have discovered the trick for getting the ultramarine out of his shell a bit. On impulse I stopped by a farm stall on the way home. They were selling fresh baked goods as well as the usual assortment of apples and corn and other produce. I bought a couple of pies to bring home, intending to put them in the freezer for later. Put a fresh peach pie in the room with the wounded astartes to be polite, even though they’ve been rejecting most food.

About ten minutes after I left the room I heard a small knock on my office door. Opened it on the assumption that it was Lorren, my space wolf, although he’d have either knocked more loudly or simply entered. Surprisingly it was the ultramarine, although the other was hovering protectively nearby.

“More food with fruit inside still are there?” His english was very tentative and he spoke deliberately softly and slowly, head down and hands folded in front of him. That part was strange - I’d seen angry and combative astartes plenty, but one who was this cautious around a lone baseline human? Something was very wrong here.

Besides the missing eyes. Or possibly because of them. Being stranded in a strange world is, from what I’ve been told, challenging enough. Being unable to see the world around you can't help.

I wasn’t going to find out what by sitting and staring though. “Yes, there are. Would you like some more?”

“Yes, Yes please.” He switched to gothic for the second half, fortunately what little I know.

“They’re upstairs. I will go get them. Unless you want to come up?”

The blood angel tapped something on his brother’s arm urgently; the ultramarine tapped a response back. A slight flash of worry crossed the blood angel’s face.

“I do. You don't carry, not good.”

A few minutes later, he’d settled in to a large armchair just outside the kitchen and was clearly making a valiant effort to take polite bites of his fourth peach pie rather than simply wolfing the entire thing down. With his limited english, my even more limited gothic, and a bit of help from a phone translation app, I learned that his name was Gerhardt and his blood angel companion was Asariel. I held off on explaining exactly where we were, deciding that would be better once I could get in contact with a more settled astartes of an appropriate chapter and temperament.

Asariel paced behind Gerhardt restlessly, refusing any food I offered him and looking between me and the outside windows warily, occasionally tapping something onto Gerhardt’s arm. Several times he glanced over at the kinfe block as if contemplating taking one. I’m not really sure what to do to get him to open up, so I left him alone until the pair returned to the basement.

They’d be welcome to one of the proper rooms, of course, but I’m not sure Asariel could handle it yet.

[i-actually-post-stuff]

In celebration of Spones day I remembered that I never posted the written submission for the @sponeszine after the waiting period was over! I'll have more to post today for Spones day! Something I that I actually made for the day 😂

For now, the unedited version of my zine entry:

A03 Link

“Now, what's this, Spock? Cookin’, or biological warfare?” McCoy eyed Spock's potluck contribution; a mixture of colorful unfamiliar baked vegetables, piping in the bath of sauce and spices, all served in complement with a steamed Vulcan grain that he recognized but didn't remember the name of. But, the spice from the stuff was practically overpowering without him even eating it. It made his eyes water like getting too close to the smoke from a fire. 

In all honesty, it seemed exciting. McCoy wasn't a loather of spice. He liked spicy chili, hot pot, jerk chicken, spiced rum; all kinds of tasty things that’d make his mouth burn. It wasn't that he disliked the idea of trying the dish at all; it was that he wanted Spock to tell him about it, and with Spock, an insult always worked better than a request.

“If I was attempting biological warfare, Doctor, I would have not chosen such an obvious method as poisoning you via food.” Spock paused to consider McCoy’s initial jab. “I am lucky to have found Vulcan ingredients in such abundance in the market. All of the vegetables and spices are Vulcan in origin, and the grain is myropses, which has been grown on Vulcan since the early days of space travel, when it was first imported.” he knew McCoy’s game at this point, it seemed, and he looked like he was taking an un-Vulcan-like pride in his recreation of the dish. “I ruminated on what to prepare for quite a long time yesterday evening.” 

McCoy leaned in a bit to really admire his work while he listened. It did look absolutely mouthwatering.

“You are unaware of this; Vulcan cuisine exists on what you would call two ends of a spectrum; unflavored meals focused on texture and, in contrast, meals that take full advantage of the spices available on Vulcan.” the corners of his mouth quirked up—subtly, but certainly fiendishly. “I only used a small fraction of the traditional spices for this dish. Perhaps I should have made a tasteless dish, in order to suit your palette more appropriately,” he insulted. 

McCoy resisted a simple; bite me. “Maybe I should’a made some spicy harissa aubergine pie. Had you put those Vulcan taste buds to the test,” he genuinely considered. “Lucky for your Vulcan ego, I just made some sweet peach pies.”

“Then, perhaps I'll show you the fault in your thinking that any Human spice would adequately phase my palate on another day,  doctor.”

“You’d-”

He was promptly cut off by Jim awkwardly ringing the little dinner-bell he'd replicated. The entire potluck crowd straightened up and looked to the captain. 

It was truly a wonderful sight laid out on the several large tables in front of them. The Enterprise cultural exchange potluck was many a crewmember's favorite time of year, including McCoy’s. There were so many tantalizing looking breakfasts, lunches, dinners, and desserts scattered across the table, and even more odd looking ones. Jim had been wise enough this year to separate the dishes by smell, after the absolute fiasco of smells from the last year's contributions. It certainly made where he was standing all the more dangerous for his sinuses. But, no one would be skipping over his pie sitting on the opposite table because of the magma incarnate Spock had brought along.

“Everyone, welcome, to the annual Enterprise potluck. Today we celebrate, where we came from, the people, we surround ourselves with and choose to care for now, and, the way that our strength is in what each, individual, one of us, brings to the table—because our differences are the exact thing that make, wonderful times like this, possible. I,, remember all those complaints last year about the length of my speech, and all I have to say, is, shame on you all for not enjoying the only thing I can bring to this table. You, don't, want my cooking here,” he got a light chuckle from the crowd, “and, dig in.” He stepped down from his spot at the head of the intersection of tables as everyone rushed for their plates. 

McCoy really did try to seem like he wasn't in a hurry to taste test Spock's special Vulcan dish that he'd so considerately made palatable for human consumption, but it was the third thing that he'd put on his first plate, and Spock definitely took notice, looking at him from across the table. And McCoy took note of that look, and the peach pie slice on Spock's dessert plate. That eased him. He'd actually been fairly concerned that Spock wouldn't like what he brought to the table this year; Vulcans weren't exactly known for being avid lovers of dessert. And the two years before, he hadn't gotten to participate. 

As he made his way to Jim's side at one of the sitting tables, he found himself troubled with the idea of Spock eating his pie. He knew he'd put a lot of effort into making it just right, and he knew that it was probably one of the best damn things at the entire potluck. But it was also the first time Spock was going to try his cooking. What are you sweating for, McCoy? It doesn't matter what Spock thinks. Get it together. He couldn't fathom why Spock's judgment on the matter seemed to get him so anxious.

Spock sat on the other side of Jim. McCoy eyed up his plates. Despite the many other wonderfully colorful dishes Spock had decided to sample, he couldn't help but lock his eyes on his own slice of pie on that dessert plate. He briefly considered causing a scene; doing something, anything, to get rid of that slice on Spock's plate. He won the battle with himself and forced himself to calm down, of course, but the whole thing just made him feel silly. 

He took a deep breath, double checked to make sure he had his little shot glass of milk, and took a bite of Spock's cooking. 

It was incredible.

The vegetables were crisp on the outside and tender on the inside. The perfect texture, easy to chew and easy to savor. As his teeth bit through them, the juice went straight to his taste buds, sweet and sour. But the method of cooking added something else; a kind of char, almost like it had been grilled; or, maybe that was one of the spices. That's when the first wave of spice hit. Whatever it was, it was intense, prickling at his tongue and down his throat, then right up into the sinuses. It was a good burn, like the first time he tried Thai food. The spice playing in harmony with all those flavors, pairing so perfectly with the plain, grounding taste of the grain, and just begging to be chased with a nice smooth drink. Then the second wave hit, and he sniffled a little as his nose started running. He held a napkin over his nose and mouth and let it run for a second, not wanting to give away that the third wave, the aftertaste, was making his eyes burn. He shut them. 

There was no doubt. Spock was a damn good cook.

He subtly wiped his nose and took half his shot of milk, wishing that he had gotten a full glass and didn't have to save the other half for what was left of it… and also wishing that he had a bigger stomach, to go back and get more without sacrificing the capacity to try all the rest of the food he’d piled on his plates. He cleared his throat, the remnants of the spices tickling where the milk hadn't entirely soothed.

Then, he subtly looked over to Spock. 

Spock was sitting there, looking as though he hadn't even started eating, like something was on his mind; not something troubling him, more so that he was ruminating on something he found important. He knew the man, after all—he knew what the look on his face was. The Vulcan was definitely thinking about something very important to him. So important that he hadn't touched anything on his plates—Leonard did a double take.

Spock had touched one thing on one of his plates. McCoy's slice of pie, which was completely gone. Briefly, he was flattered, before realizing all of the different things that that could mean. 

Maybe Spock hated it. Maybe it’d put him off eating all together. Or maybe he hadn't checked the little ingredient card in front of it closely enough, and it had something he couldn't eat, and now he was considering the validity of calling the whole thing off for himself and going back up to the ship to pretend that he wasn't having a reaction to it. Or, maybe he was trying to think of the best possible insult to grant him after the meal. Well, two can play at that, Spock! Yours is—well, it was perfect. It was just great; he couldn't think of a bad thing to say that wasn't just insulting himself for not having a Vulcan tolerance. 

Maybe Spock was thinking the same thing. Well, not exactly the same thing. 

Maybe Spock was thinking that he wished he'd tried his cooking sooner. Maybe, just like McCoy was, he was wishing that they’d just cooked for each other so they didn't have to worry about leaving out all the other wonderful things there were to eat on their plates. 

No, not Spock. The man doesn't even eat breakfast. He only ever eats what he needs to survive unless it's in the name of being diplomatic. It seemed inconceivable that the Vulcan could be thinking of something so worldly as having another bite of something delicious. 

“Since when are you a slow eater, Bones?” Jim remarked, nudging his shoulder knowingly. 

“It's called pacing yourself, Jim. Good for big meals like this. ‘N I'll recommend it to you if you don't slow down.” he gestured to Jim's half finished plate. “You even chewing? You're gonna give yourself a stomach ache.”

Jim huffed with a bit of amusement, both of them knowing that McCoy was just crabby about being caught staring at Spock and wondering what he thought of his food.

Leonard took a bite of something else on the plate to avoid more ridicule, listening as Jim turned to Spock and said, “not hungry, Spock?” 

Whatever game he was playing. 

Sure, everything at the potluck that McCoy had put on his plate tasted incredible. There wasn't a single thing he regretted, even the things that squirmed under his fork—a bit like octopus with soy sauce, he considered, and he knew better than to be put off—but nothing stuck in his head quite like Spock's silly little spicy vegetable dish. He was embarrassed, finding his thoughts drifting over and over again to a hypothetical situation of him walking up to Spock and asking about the recipe.

On one hand, it felt a whole lot like praising the enemy. The little game that they played that neither of them were supposed to really win didn't work that way. Sure, the occasional compliment on the other's competency slipped out on occasion. But asking the man to make him dinner was a whole ‘nother thing. It was so… domestic. And the thought of sitting down in one of their quarters over a Vulcan meal that Spock had put so much time and effort into preparing seemed a bit too much like him asking Spock on a date for his comfort. Although, it didn't sound like a bad date. It sounded like a very good date. In fact, it sounded like the best possible date with Spock he could think of in that moment.

In that train of thought, he considered that it might even be a bit of a show of strength on his part; a brag that he was able to handle it. One of his ways of teasing him that was more of a compliment, despite its disguise as a boast.

He thought back and forth on it until just about everyone at their table had finished everything on their plates. Not that he noticed until Spock intruded behind him.

“Doctor.” 

He looked back over his shoulder at Spock, playing with the last thing on his plate with his fork. “Spock,” he acknowledged.

“We will be in orbit of this planet for 57 more of your Earth hours. I intend to acknowledge your challenge. You will inform me of what time would work best for you. Then, we will meet and you will prepare a dish for me that you believe would adequately test my Vulcan taste buds.”

He was stunned for a moment, of course. Spock had beat him to it. He practically did everything but schedule the date. But McCoy was too quick a thinker to sit there with his mouth hanging open about it. “All right, Spock. Only if you take me to the market and show off your fancy Vulcan veggies and spices.” He wouldn't let Spock be in charge of the whole situation without a fight.

“Acceptable,” Spock immediately acknowledged, almost as if he would accept any condition.

“And, one more thing.” McCoy pushed his luck.

“Yes?” Spock shifted uncomfortably, as if he was worried- if McCoy didn't know better than to think such a thing about a distinguished Vulcan like Spock. 

“You're gonna make this for me again the night after we leave orbit.”

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #7: In Pie We Crust

Prompt: morsel || Master Post || On AO3

A/N: This is one time I'm not sorry for a pun. This is your only warning about what's coming, have a snack ready. YOU ARE WELCOME.

---

Rereha was a grown woman, halfway through her thirties, had helped save the world multiple times over, but absolutely nothing reverted her to being a twelve-year old sproglet like Angharad Greywolfe’s baking.

The kitchen in the Greywolfe ancestral seat wasn’t as familiar to her as the one in Isolde Greywolfe’s ostentatious manor was; the furniture was different, the shelves of different placement and style and material. But the layout was, almost to the ilm, the same, with a great table as the centerpiece. Aunt Angharad’s influence, certainly, as even with a score of servants manning the household, the Greywolfe matriarch preferred to make the kitchen her domain, to her good-sister’s continued bafflement.

Considering how large and heavy the table was, how darkened and worn the surface, Rere suspected that whatever Garlean household had squatted here during the occupation had decided trying to move the thing was more trouble than it was worth.

The chairs, though, were new, more like stools to accommodate the height of the work table, and Rereha perched on a lalafell-appropriate one, hands flat on the tabletop as she watched Aunt Angharad flit about her kitchen like a hunting hawk. Next to her, Lyse did similar.

“I think the last time I had a proper fruit pie,” Lyse said, her voice dripping with wistful lust, “was just before that damned banquet.”

Aunt Angharad nearly tripped over her own feet in her haste to pivot and stare at Lyse, just as Rere whipped her head around with a horrified squawk. “Lyse.”

Lyse nodded. “S’true. The Resistance cell that Papalymo and I stayed with when we snuck across the Wall had a good supply line, but any fresh fruit they got was dried for better storage, and wheat was for bread and hard tack—”

Rere and Lyse both went rap-rap with their knuckles against the wood, and shared a conspiratorial giggle.

“—and whatever pies were made were meat ones,” Lyse finished. “Pretty tasty, though! I’d forgotten how much I loved gazelle meat. But then we were scrambling back home, and the whole thing with the Griffin…” She paused again, breathing deep, and Rere leaned over to hug her as Aunt Angharad pushed a mug of spiced tea towards her. Lyse returned the hug, then sat up to reach for the mug and sip from it. “Thanks. So, the huge disaster Ilberd made, and then we were running around Gyr Abania and Othard and then I was suddenly given a leadership position and staying in Ala Mhigo, and here we are! I mean, sure, I’ve attended a few formal functions in Eorzea, but those only have the cute little cakes and cookies for dessert. And I’m a good little Gyr Abanian girl, I can and will fight Synnove for the last piece of kunifeh, but pie.”

“Mother Miounne’s blueberry pie,” Rere said dreamily.

Lyse moaned and thunked her head against the table. “With peach ice cream from the Bismarck! Oooohhhh, the way it melts right into the blueberry and makes this cold-and-hot sticky yummy fruit mess on the plate and in your mouth…”

Rere could taste the memory on her tongue as vivid as if she had just shoveled blueberries and ice cream into her mouth, and groaned rapturously.

“Well,” Aunt Angharad laughed setting down a pie tin, “it’s not blueberry, but something tells me that won’t disappoint you girls.”

Rereha and Lyse leaned forward, oohing and aahing in excited delight.

The top crust was perfectly golden brown and no doubt delicious, strips of dough layered into a lattice work as tightly-woven as any picnic basket and encrusted with a cinnamon-sugar mix before being baked. The edges had been neatly crimped, then pressed down with a fork so that the tines made pretty little impressions. A few strategic openings in the lattice allowed steam to escape, curling and dancing upwards and bringing with it the familiar scent of rich cinnamon and ginger and nutmeg and most importantly, cooked, tart apple.

Rereha and Lyse both took deep, appreciative lungfuls, holding the deliciousness in their noses before letting out sighs of pure happiness.

Aunt Angharad chuckled, and made the first cut. The pastry cracked satisfyingly and a shiver went down Rereha’s spine. Aw, yeah, she thought, reaching up to wipe away the drool from her mouth, Angharad Greywolfe’s own pie dough.

“Pie! Pie! Pie! Pie!” Lyse was chanting quietly, staring with huge eyes. Rereha started thumping her hands against the table in accompaniment.

One slice, two slices. With the deft expertise of the experience home cook, Aunt Angharad plated each one without losing any of the filing. Beautiful, spice-covered slices of apple glistened in the kitchen light, before it began to gently ooze out of shape and onto each plate.

Lyse’s stomach made a gurgling noise. Rereha’s followed.

Aunt Angharad’s expressions could properly be called “deeply smug.” She set a fork on each plate, and then gently slid them so they sat perfectly in front of them.

“Do enjoy, girls,” she said, sing-song, with the assurance that would do nothing less.

Rereha picked up her fork. So did Lyse. They clacked forks together, then used them to cut off a large piece of apple pie, and shove said pieces into their own mouths. And moaned.

The crust, as always, was perfectly flaky and soft and good in its own right, made with a combination of sweet cream butter and lard to create the lovely little layers. The crunch beneath Rereha’s teeth was oh-so-satisfying, especially against the soft apple slices.

The sugar-spice blend was cinnamon-dominant, as it should be, the other spices mixed with it added sparingly to enhance rather than overwhelm. Just a hint of the nutmeg, the warmth of ginger, and ooooh, yes, there was the star anise. Rereha continued to chew slowly, savoring each and every bit of this truly divine experience. Along with the sugar that Aunt Angharad had tossed the apples in, it was almost candy-like with how the sugar had caramelized as it cooked. Not quite enough to be a chewy treat in and of itself, of course, but more like a sauce, thick and rich and sweeeeeeeet. So, so, so good. And then the wonderful tartness of the apple, bright enough to cut through the sweet and ensure that the fruit was all that was left on the tongue in delicious memory as Rereha swallowed.

Rereha closed her eyes and sighed. “I love you so much, Auntie,” she said, opening her eyes to claim another bite. Beside her, Lyse was still making frankly obscene noises, cheeks bulging as she continued to chew her first huge bite.

Angharad’s laugh echoed from the other end of the kitchen, and she poked her head in from the cold room. A devious smile was on her lips. “Want some vanilla ice cream for that?”

Lyse nearly choked as she joined Rere’s shriek of, “YES!”

[the-fiction-witch]

Oh F-oxes P1

Media Godless

Character Whitey Winn

Couple Whitey X Reader

Rating Flirty Af

I sat in the office, I was leant back in my chair, as I read my latest Nickel Library comic. While I minded the office as Bill was away doing, well I don't know really whatever it is he's up to. I heard the door open so I glanced up and saw y/n. "Aww Hiya Miss Y/l/n, What a nice surprise," I smiled as I set my comic down and turned to sit a little better on my chair "Hi Mr Winn" She smiled, as she came through wearing her usual black and white vertical striped dress with black frills and lace, her hair braided and pinned up with her bonnet style hat tied under her chin, a little wicker basket in her arms and following along behind her the little grey fox with well fluffed and trimmed fur and little sharp blue eyes. I saw Y/n often as she lived in a little house with a wrap-around porch close to the old mine, She'd been In Labelle as long as I could remember, having moved here to live with her great uncle but he passed away in The Accident.

We certainly enjoyed each other's company being the only two around a similar age and we had been courting for a few months now even if I would have courted and married her years ago if she wasn't so damn stubborn. And Of course, I knew little Fleur. Y/n had gone for a ride out in the woods one afternoon and found a young abandoned Grey Fox cub barely through its blind and deaf stage, she helped it of course and did try many times to find its family but never did and the two were now so bonded Fleur honestly thought of y/n as her mother, followed her everywhere and took great care to protect her. "What brings ya to see me today then? Or am I just lucky?" I asked as I leaned on the desk. "I figured I'd bring my favourite deputy a little treat," She smiled as she pulled back the gingham cloth to reveal a still-steaming one of her apple and peach lattice pies which she pulled out and set on the desk "As you've been working so hard with Bill gone," "Really?!" I asked excitedly, "Of course," She smiled as she handed over a clean fork, "Do ya have a plate?" I asked as I happily took the pie and fork, "Do you need one whitey?" She giggled "Ya know me well darlin'" I smirked as I eagerly had a taste "Ummm Delicious Darlin' thank you very much" "You're welcome" she smiled as Fleur came up and perched on my desk watching me with her strong eyes, "So Whitey I was wondering?" She smiled

Ah, I knew she wanted something.

"What is it?" "I need to pop out of town for a little while," "Oh? Where ya goin'?" "Just on a little trip to visit family, I'll only be gone a month or so," "Okay," "And I was wondering if you'd mind looking after my house while I'm gone," "Ohh course no problem, I'm more than happy to pop in, collect your mail, water your plants and such" I explained, "Thank you," she smiled "And also could you take care of Fleur for me." I met eyes with Fleur and she seemed as unhappy with the concept as I was, "Uhhh? Ya sure about that?" I asked looking at her, "Well, I don't really have much of a choice. I can't take her on the train with me and Everyone else in town is scared of her, Please Whitey." "I'm not sure y/n, I have no experience with animals and I don't really think Fleur likes me very much," I explained as I got up and leaned on my desk, "She likes you, Enough." She said, "Please Whitey, all you'd need to do is feed her once in the morning and once at night, check her water bowl and give her a brush once a week that's all." "I don't know y/n…" "Please Whitey," She pleads stroked her hand across my hair then down my cheek, across my jaw, down my chest rubbed on my chest with both her hands as she moved close to press her body against me.

God damn girl she knows how to manipulate me!

That's the thing when you're courting a girl this smart, she figures out quickly how to manipulate ya! She has been denying me since we started courting, never letting me get any further than just some kisses, so she goddamn knew! all she had to do was hint and snuggle and I'd be putty in her hands. "Alright," "Yay! Thank you whitey!" she smiled as she pulled me into a hug so I quickly hugged her back "On one condition," I warn her, "Ohh?" She asked, "I will look after ya house and Fleur. If when ya get back, you come and stay over at my place a couple nights?" "Just stay over?" "Well See." "We have a deal, Mr Winn," She smiled as she pulled me into an intense kiss, I happily kissed her back stroking her waist through her dress till she pulled back "Come up to the house later and I'll walk you through everything," "Will I get a deposit payment before ya go?" "Well see." She smiled as she tapped my nose "Come On Fleur" She smiled and Fleur happily jumped off the desk fluffing her trail and she followed y/n out of the office.

[yanderelmk]

Hey ! So i was wondering how would Macaque and wukong (separate) court they'r s/o?

WUKONG:

-He is a ball of anxiety throughout the entire thing -Sure, he's The Monkey King, but that's not enough on its own to catch someone's attention -At first he'll just do small things, casually trying to stalk where you are to "accidentally" bump into you -Tries to talk about things you're interested in despite having zero clue what you're talking about at times -Tries to research what you talk about to be better informed -Realizes that just giving someone a peach isn't an inherent act of romance so he tries (and fails) to figure out how to make various peach treats (tarts, pies, prolly attempted a cobbler once) -Eventually sticks to just going through his treasure hoard to share things with you he thinks you'll like MACAQUE:

-Makes very vague hints/comments that he just hopes you'll pick up on -Perches in your window to watch you sleep and watches for nightmares -Leaves you various gifts around your house like some kind of cat -Has his clones watch over you 24/7 to make sure nothing bad happens to you -Second you're in danger he just. APPEARS through his shadow portal to defend you -Getting him to outright confess is worse than pulling teeth from a cranky bull elephant -His hope is that if he drops enough vague flirty comments he can slowly transition his way into the romance zone without you noticing

[u-mspcoll]

Crisscross Apricot Pi(e) Day

All about Home Baking : Cakes, Cookies, Pies, Pastries, Biscuits, Muffins, Quick Breads, Frostings, Table Service, Party Menus. 2nd ed., Consumer Service Dept., General Foods Corp., 1933. Call No. Cookery 1933 Al 2nd ed.

More for pie day from our colleague Melanie Lowrie!

"Happy Pi(e) Day! As the resident nerd in high school, Pi Day was always one of those holidays that I enjoyed reminding the rest of my classmates of, and what better way to celebrate than with one of my favorite desserts, pie! (Although, I like all desserts personally, I have a sweet tooth and will never turn down something sweet). 

In my capacity as one of the Collection Services Support Specialists for Special Collections, I have been the go-to person for almost all post-cataloging activities since arriving at the Library in July 2023, meaning that I have been getting very close with new acquisitions once they arrive back from Technical Services.

One of the main collections that has been coming across my desk almost constantly since July has been additions to our Janice Bluestein Longone Culinary Archive. In other words, I’ve been seeing a lot of cookbooks! So, when Juli McLoone sent out an email announcing the annual Pi(e) Day celebrations, I immediately knew I needed to participate. The theme being fruit pies, I challenged myself to find a recipe using a fruit not commonly found in pies at the grocery store (apple, cherry, blueberry, peach, you get the idea), and I wanted this recipe to come from a book in our collection.

Enter All about Home Baking: Cakes, Cookies, Pies, Pastries, Biscuits, Muffins, Quick Breads, Frostings, Table Service, Party Menus. The edition in our collection is the second edition created by the General Foods Corporation circa 1933. I thought this was perfect as I started leafing through the book as it seems to have been created to help the home chef learn basic skills and then build upon them with foolproof recipes. While I was searching through the section on pies, I came across the recipe for pie crust with a simple cherry filling. Well dang, I wanted to stay away from fruits you commonly find in pies in the grocery store!

Thankfully, I kept going, because on the final page of the section was the recipe for Crisscross Apricot Pie. Racking my brain, I could not pinpoint a single time in my life where I have had or even seen an apricot pie. Perfect! Thankfully this book was scanned and uploaded to Hatitrust from Cornell University’s collection, so I printed out the two pages I needed and decided to get to work...."

Read more!

Crisscross Apricot Pie recipe from All About Home Baking.

While I could have used a food processor to complete this process, I felt that actually "getting my hands dirty" may be a little more fun.

Carl definitely thought the pie filling was for his dinner. He was disappointed when I said it's people food.

The completed pie.

[uwudonoodle]

Happy pi day! I think stories are always better if they have a delicious pie in them. So here's a random list of pies on screen, that I lowkey want to make and eat. 🥧

🎞 Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

🥧 Gooseberry Pie

The queen poisoned Snow before she could put it in the oven. That's the real tragedy. I've never had a gooseberry pie, but my dad has a small gooseberry bush that might produce enough for a pie some day.

🎞 Julie and Julia

🥧 Chocolate Silk Pie

Julie makes a pie in the opening of the movie while musing about how cooking brings her peace in a chaotic world. I had never had a chocolate silk pie before, but after the movie I looked up a recipe and made it. It's now one of my most requested pies at Thanksgiving. Although I like to use an oreo crust where Julie used a Graham cracker.

🎞 Big Fish

🥧 Apple Pie

Of course the perfect little idyllic town of Spectre, Alabama served hot apple pie. It looked real good too.

🎞 Kiki's Delivery Service

🥧 Herring Pie

At least I think it's a fish pie because of the design on top, not positive. Fish pie wouldn't be my favorite to eat. It was baked in a wood fired oven, and man, did the crust look amazing.

🎞 Harry Potter

🥧 Shepherd's Pie, Pumpkin Pasties, and Treacle Tart

(This includes the books as well since I think only the Pumpkin Pasties are mentioned in the movies.) Shepherd's pie is pure comfort food. We aren't really shown pumpkin pasties, but they sound like mini pumpkin hand pies. I saw Binging with Babish make Treacle tart (Harry's favorite) and now it's on my wish list. I just have to order some golden syrup from the UK to make it.

🎞 Tangled

🥧 Raspberry Rhubarb Pie?

We don't really know what kind of pie Rapunzel bakes in her tower kitchen, but the internet thinks it's raspberry rhubarb, which sounds awesome.

🎞 I, Robot

🥧 Sweet Potato Pie

I love how Will Smith's character is so excited for his Grandma's pie, that he just starts eating without even cutting a slice. Then he tells some stranger on the street to hold it or wear it. 🤣

🎞 Hook

🥧 Imagination Cream Pie

All the imaginary food in Neverland looked amazing to me as a kid. It would be fun to try to make a cream pie that was as colorful as the food in that scene. I wonder what flavor it should be? Inventing new pies is fun.

🎞 The Emperor's New Groove

🥧 Spinach Puffs

Arguably not pie, but it's a filling in a pasty, so close enough. Binging with Babish's recipe looks awesome, but I have yet to try it. Kronk is a proud cook, and I respect him for it.

🎞 Blazing Saddles

🥧 Cream Pie

They did more throwing than eating, but the pies still looked tasty, and it was a good time.

🎞 Waitress (movie and musical)

🥧 Marshmallow Pie, Dark Chocolate Strawberry Pie, Spiced Pumpkin Pie, Chocolate Blackberry Pie, Butterscotch Banana Pudding Pie, Ham and Cheese Quiche, Spaghetti Pie, Pecan Cheesecake, Peach Pie, Cherry Pie, Chocolate Custard Pie, Cinnamon Custard (hope I remembered them all)

Before I saw Waitress, I had made pies, but I never thought about inventing new pies. Jenna got me thinking more creatively. I've since made my own versions of her Dark Chocolate Strawberry, Chocolate Silk, Spaghetti Pie, and Ham and Cheese Quiche. FYI, one of the pies on the DVD cover has a lazy lattice, and I noticed. 👀

📺 Monk

🥧 Chicken Pot Pie

Monk got the crust perfectly placed and then stalled while he counted the peas. It hurt my heart that I never got to see the finished product. I should make more pot pies, they are awesome.

📺 Avatar: The Last Airbender

🥧 Egg Custard Tarts

Avatar did not need a pie to be one of the best shows ever, but it did, because Avatar has it all. The face Aang makes when tempted with egg custard is adorable. Now I know why, as I made an egg custard a few years ago at Christmas.

📺 In Plain Sight

🥧 Lemon Meringue or Banana Cream (I didn't get a good look)

After a long hard day, Mary's partner got her a big slice of pie from a bakery and told her, "Eat pie. Pie makes everything better." Thank you, Marshall. We stan.

📺 The Dragon Prince

🥧 Jelly Tarts

Of course my favorite show has pie. They are based on an Israeli dessert, but they're close enough to pie for me. Callum's Spellbook has a recipe, although I might try making them with traditional pie dough. Maybe for the season 6 premier?🤞 I just have to decide which flavor. 🤔

📺 Adventure Time

🥧 Apple Pie (with crystal apples!)

I watched the first episode, and when they mentioned pie, I was like, this show is going to be good. Even though Tree Trunks was wisked to another dimension and never actually got to finish her pie, I ended up loving Adventure Time.

📺 Pushing Daisies

🥧 Mixed Berry Pie, Kiwi Cream Pie, Three Plum Pie, Apple Pie with Gruyere

No joke, my therapist recommended this show to me because she knew I loved baking pies. I, of corse, immediately identified with the sad pie maker who was obsessed with making pies as a way to cope. I binged the entire series, then found out it was cancelled, and processed to mourn for the next week. I still want to try to recreate some of their signature pies. The Kiwi Cream is so pretty.

🎮 The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom

🥧 Apple Pie, Pumpkin Pie, Fruit Pie, Meat Pie, Fish Pie, Egg Tarts, and Cheesecake (it counts)

These the first video games I ever finished (my parents banned them so I didn't get to start playing until I was older). The combat still kind of scares me, but I took to the cooking right away. On my first play through, I was so excited to get Tabantha Wheat, so I could finally make pies. Wild's era Link is so much cooler because he's a pie maker. I always keep a few egg custard tarts in my inventory for some quick hearts.

Happy pi day! Go eat a big slice. Pie makes everything better.

Please comment any pies I missed (I definitely haven't seen everything).

*Sweeny Todd, American Pie, Spongebob's bomb pie, and The Help aren't mentioned because their pies were not delicious.*

[ladytesla]

The Great Faerun Baking Show (part five)

Hello people. I cannot be stopped. Do you know how long I spent making up and looking up weird desserts? Do you have any idea how hard I tried to come up with a baking-related pun using the word 'Menzobarranzan'? I have a Problem.

(I failed thinking of a pun, by the way. Feel free to comment whatever you come up with and then I'll kick myself for not being as clever as you)

For those of you who are just stopping by, I had a horrible idea a while ago and this is the result. I have no idea what's going to happen or who's going to win. I’m just going to roll a D20 ‘bake check’ for everyone and write out the results, including what everyone rolled so y’all know I’m not cheating just so my druid boyfriend can win.  The person with the lowest total score (out of a possible score of 60) goes home.

We've got the main 6 companions, Jaheira, Halsin, Minsc (and Boo), Minthara, Dammon, and my tav Medora (who y'all can just pretend is Alfira if you don't want someone else's tav in the story, since they're both female bards)

Week One, Cake Week: Star baker was Karlach, Minthara went home

Week Two, Biscuit Week: Star baker was Halsin, Shadowheart went home

Week Three, Bread Week: Star baker was Wyll, Jaheira went home

Week Four, Pies and Tarts Week: Star baker was Wyll, Minsc went home

Week Four: Underdark Week, or "Just Like Lolth Used to Make"

Signature: Sussur loaf

This cake uses sussur fruit instead of eggs, which provides a unique gelatinous quality. They also glow in the dark, which of course they do.

Astarion: Blackberry and vanilla sussur loaf. He got the proportions wrong, and after upending his pan onto his serving dish the sussur loaf oozed out in a puddle. The flavor was nice, but the presentation was horrible.

Dammon: Peach lemonade sussur loaf. Part of the loaf stuck to the pan, but he did his best to decorate it with leftover sussur fruit to hide it. The dark silhouettes on the glowing cake disrupted the traditional clean look, but there was nothing to complain about regarding the flavor.

Gale: Pandan and star anise sussur loaf. The star anise flavor was a bit too strong and the loaf was underbaked, but overall he received positive comments from the judges.

Halsin: Honey and lavender sussur loaf. The alien-looking cake and the homey flavors made a wonderful contrast, and it was baked almost perfectly.

Karlach: Gin and tonic sussur loaf. While her loaf was in the oven she passed around measuring cups of booze for the other bakers, the hosts, the camera crew... Things came out quite nicely, but the taste was ALMOST too boozy.

Lae'zel: Ginger and passionfruit sussur loaf. A nearly-flawless bake that came almost perfectly out of the pan. She expected no less, of course.

Medora: Rose and orange blossom sussur loaf. The floral flavors and the glow of the cake made her dessert look ethereal. She went a bit too heavy-handed with the rose, however.

Wyll: Lemon and thyme sussur loaf. The Blade isn't familiar with the Underdark, and it showed, unfortunately. The loaf was very overbaked, which dims the signature glow, and the thyme was overwhelmed by the lemon.

Technical: Menzobarranzan Tavuk Göğsü

This seemingly inocuous custard-based dessert contains a secret ingredient: shredded bulette meat. You apparently can't taste it if you prepare it correctly, and it provides a more robust texture to the dessert.

From worst to best:

8. Medora

7. Astarion

6. Gale

5. Halsin

4. Karlach

3. Dammon

2. Wyll

Lae'zel

Showstopper: Myconid Cake

What better way to showcase the natural beauty of the underdark than to bake a tribute to those weird and wonderful mushroom people? Cakes must have two tiers and beautifully decorated.

Astarion: Tiramisu cake. The soaking syrup he put on the layers made the cake too wet, but the flavors were well balanced. He wasn't able to make as many decorations as he liked, but the ones he managed to create were nice.

Dammon: Earl Grey cake with raspberries. And with enough myconid-like decorations that it looked like a cavern in the Underdark. Nearly flawless.

Gale: Triple chocolate cake. Had a very ambitious idea to do three tiers, each with a different flavor batter, different filling... and time got away from him. His presentation was very sloppy, and as he frosted the cakes while they were still hot due to the time constraints, the frosting melted right off.

Halsin: Orange and thyme cake. A unique combination of sweet and savory, again using herbs he foraged himself. His decorations were incredibly detailed, and the cakes themselves had a very delicate texture.

Karlach: Carrot cake. Carrots are roots. Roots grow in the ground. Mushrooms grow in the ground. It works. Unfortunately carrot cake takes quite a long time to bake properly, and hers were still nearly liquid on the inside when she took them out of the oven. She salvaged what she could, but gave up on trying to make things pretty with two minutes left on the clock, and went to find the last of the gin and tonic from the signature round.

Lae'zel: Lemon elderflower cake. The lemon overpowered the elderflower and the cake was slightly overbaked, but her militant attention to detail made the rock candy decorations incredibly precise.

Medora: Mojito cake. It was far too boozy and the presentation was definitely lacking, but at least the cakes were baked properly.

Wyll: Strawberries and champagne cake. Apparently it's Boozy Bakes club this week, and he was a card-carrying member. A surprisingly delicate flavor, and beautifully balanced with the strawberries.

The Results:

Our star baker this week with a total of 52/60 is Lae'zel!

And with a score of 24/60, Astarion is leaving the tent today.

So I hope y'all are okay with me taking some creative liberties with the bakes today. Suspend your disbelief. Except for the Tavuk Göğsü which is a real traditional Turkish dessert that honestly sounds super interesting to me. How can you put chicken in a dessert and not taste it. I gotta know.

Feel free to play along in the comments! How would your tav or favorite npc compare?

Omg we're halfway through! We've got dessert week next.

[1u11ablues]

MY LITTLE INFERNI (NIKOLAI LANTSOVxOC)

WC: 3k Summary: Following a heartbreak with a certain childhood friend, an inferni asked to be stationed somewhere as far away as possible–to heal, while also serving her country. It's going well, until she realised her feelings were, in fact, requited.

[This is the longfic I had in plans after 'You Made it Easy'. I update once a week/every two weeks on Ao3, but will update here as well.]

CHAPTER 1: SCORCHWITCH

“How much for the plums?” 

Dasha picked up the ripe purple fruit, squishing it in her hands to check for rot. Next to them are various fruits; apples, pears, perfect round peaches—and her mouth waters at the thought of having peach jam to go with her bread. For a country known for its never ending winter, it’s quite surprising how they can grow the amount of fruits that they do. She’s not even surprised if illegal grisha labour is involved somehow. Saints know how they treat grishas in Fjerda. In fact, being forcefully indentured might sound better to some than getting killed for simply existing.

The village market was nothing compared to the perfectly arranged stalls they have in Djerholm—but Dasha finds it endearing; almost whimsical in its own way. She preferred the Ravkan market more, though. The wares were more colourful, especially in the summer and spring. Rows and rows of stalls full of produce, flowers, cloth and the Zemeni spices her brother used to love. He’d buy something from the spice stalls every time they visited the marketplace and use those to make his famous hot chocolate. Dasha knew it was only delicious because of the spice,but Stepan never got the chance to tell her what the exact ingredient was before he left. She missed his hot chocolate. She missed Stepan.

The sky grumbled. It was such a lovely day this morning, but she can see dark clouds approaching from the distance, sensing a storm coming soon. Just as the snow had stopped falling for the day. Great.

“Oh, dear Astrid!” The stall owner greeted her. “Good to see you today. Doing some shopping for the mister?” 

Dasha smiled, still not quite used to the identity Zoya had given her. She had been undercover in Fjerda for almost a month now, disguised as a housewife to a leatherworker;a member of the Hringsa. She repeated her new name to herself the first week she arrived— Astrid Karlen, Astrid Karlen, Astrid Karlen— just so she wouldn't be an idiot and say her real name; Dasha Lenkovya, whenever she had to introduce herself. The story she had concocted was that she’s a girl from a rural Fjerda village looking to marry someone who can take care of her—and live somewhere closer to the city for better opportunities. It was simple, but so far, no one had mentioned anything about it.

It was her request to be sent somewhere far away for work—heartbreak makes you do weird things—but she didn't expect Zoya to assign her somewhere this  far.

“Yes,” she replied, “although I’m not sure I will get anything else done today with a storm around the corner.”

She turned to look at the sky, and the lady at the stall followed her gaze. Her mouth twisted downwards, and Dasha grinned. Her fruit stall seems wonky and there was nothing to cover its wares and owner from the torrent of bad weather Fjerda has been experiencing lately,so the lady will have to close shop sooner than she planned.

“Djel must be angry.” She states, as her eyes scanned through her unsold produce. “You know what? Any other fruit you want, I’ll give it to you for half the price. At least I’m getting something instead of leaving them to rot .”

Dasha laughed and picked herself a variety of colourful fruits; apples, plums, peaches, and pears—some for dinner, some for pies, some for the jams she plans to make. She reached into her coin purse for the payment, when she overheard two ladies in her periphery sounding distressed.

“It’s just a precaution,Clara.”  

She arranged the produce neatly in her netted bag—taking her time, focusing her attention on what the ladies were saying. If there’s anything Zoya had taught her, it’s that even gossip from the townspeople can offer valuable information. She just had to be diligent enough to sift through and separate idle talk from intel.

“They probably arrested him,because you know—he’s not actually the upstanding civilian you think he is.” A pause. “When they find out he’s done nothing wrong,they will release him.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. He’s my brother!”

Hmm , so people have been missing . She had heard the same words from different people over the course of two weeks now.

She hurried down the gravel away from the market square, not wanting to be caught out there by any authorities, or worse, Druskelle. Sure, the Druskelle rarely patrols this far down from Djerholm, but with what had been happening lately—the miracles blooming here and there in what she was guessing was a part of Nina Zenik’s plan—it’s normal to be scared.

Her role in Fjerda is to be a dormant agent, to be used only to send messages or news to Ravka. She hasn’t stumbled into anything that requires active work yet, so to her this kind of feels like going on a vacation. Except she has to pretend that she’s happily living with the man of her dreams who she had only known for a month now. It’s already hard enough for her to form bonds, but Zoya had to pair her with someone as ill-tempered as Henrik Beck, who reminds her of the boys who pull on your pigtails just for the fun of it. 

It also took her a while to get used to the ways of Fjerdan women, to be obedient and prude, or in her case seem like it, but other than that, things were going swimmingly. Well, sometimes she wishes the weather was less harsh on her skin—her nighttime routine consists of slathering herself with animal grease so she wouldn't shrivel up like a prune.

She stopped by a house a little further left to the market square to pay its tenant a visit. It took her three knocks before a boy a little younger than her answers, his face a welcoming olive against the harsh colour of snow.

“Dasha,” Adya Yul-Naran whispered as he ushered her into his home. His assigned home. Dasha had known Adya’s sister Zaya since she was a fresh-faced student, still struggling to control her abilities in Baghra’s hut. They have been close enough for her to share some of her secrets, and for Zaya to ask her to take care of her brother as a favour. Dasha treated Adya like her own brother already, so she was planning on doing that, anyway.

“It’s Astrid, Oswin Westegaard. Common Fjerdan name for common Fjerdans, remember?” She reminded Adya, sitting herself in his comfy armchair before he even had the chance to extend the invitation to sit. She placed her bag of fruits by the side of the chair, sinking into the chair like it was made for her.

“Aye, Astrid, I daresay you got that aright. Please, make yourself at home. Fjerdan hospitality,” Adya mimicked as he poured her a steaming cup of tea. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

Dasha laughs, threatening to hurl one of his many throw pillows at him. “Just curious as to how my charge is doing. That, and I’m seeking refuge from that nightmare outside,” she replied as she took a sip from her cup. 

Adya crossed over her to pull the curtains down, so that they could talk away from prying eyes.

“You know how those Fjerdan are,Dash. You can’t just visit the home of unmarried men when you have that six feet hunk of a husband to return to.” 

Dasha’s mouth hung open. “Adya, are you lusting over my fake husband?” She asked, a grin spreading on her face.

“Please.” Adya rolled his eyes. “I have better taste. Though I have to admit, Zoya picked a fine one for you.”

Dasha giggled at his admission, though she can’t say she had the chance to look at Henrik thoroughly enough to agree.

They exchanged a couple of pieces of information regarding the mission before Adya slapped his knees and stood, claiming, “You best get going, Dash. That storm cloud looks like it’s going to chase us with a cane,” and Dasha agreed as soon as she saw how close it was. She packed her stuff and rushed out of his doors hurriedly lest she got caught in the storm.

She manages to return just as the sky starts sprinkling its first wave of rain. The house she lives in is situated in Kvívik, a quaint village further east from Djerholm, with most of its building still made up of timber—a stark contrast to the brick and concrete Djerholm is packed in. It was near enough to the capital for her weekly visit, but not that near that it became a common patrol route for Druskelle. 

Bag hanging from her elbow, she unlatched the door to the small snow cabin she had been living in the past month. Well, to Fjerdans, it’s just a normal house. She pushed her wet hair away from her forehead as she entered. The light from outside shone a path from the front door to a small dining table and a modest kitchen Dasha had helped set up.

She hung her coat on the hook by the door, shook the dirt and snow off her boots before removing them. He’s not home yet. Her shoulders sag in relief, though she doesn’t know why she was so tense to begin with. 

Dasha hummed a Ravkan lullaby as she emptied the fruits from her bag to a basin full of water so she could rinse them. She watched as they bobbed up and down, thinking about the summer festivals in Ravka, then realised that her teeth were chattering. 

Changing to something dry, a modest dress that Fjerdan women often wear, she wrapped herself with the blanket she had brought with her from Ravka—blue fleece embroidered with gold stars—and approached the fireplace. Her fingers were numb as she struck her flint to conjure a small kindling of flame to start a fire. It’s probably wiser to use the match propped on the stool to the side of the fireplace, but her hands were too shaky to even attempt to strike a match.

She sits there for a while and watches as the flame grows, the dancing of fire taking her back to the nights spent with an old friend. Someone she probably should try to forget by now, the reason she was here to begin with. She tried to tear her eyes away from the fire,but the rhythmic movement was too hypnotising—her mind too quiet. 

“I find fire mesmerising,don’t you?” Nikolai told her one night, and she agreed. He took a swig out of an amber bottle and continued, “Yellow and orange, like autumn leaves. The sway of them almost looks musical, dancing and playing like the silk ribbons they sell in Noyvi Zem.” She listened to the poetry pouring out of his lips, remembering how the subject of it illuminates his facial features. If she was drunk enough, she would have kissed him.

A loud creak startled her out of thought. She looked to the door, tense, hand on her flint, to find out it was Henrik just returning from work. Saints, how late is it? When the outside wind from the open door crept in, she scoots nearer to the fire to find out it had burned out to a pile of ash on the hearth.

Henrik dropped his tool belt on the dining table, scowling.

“Stupid girl, why didn’t you start the fire?” 

Dasha cringed at the scornful tone that came out of his mouth—she does not like this man, and it doesn’t matter if Zoya says that he’s helpful towards the cause. 

Standing up to grab some more firewood, she replied, curtly, “I did, but got distracted .” 

“I should’ve asked the Stormwitch for more competent help.” Henrik dashed past her to the woodrack before she did.

Her hands trembled, movement so minute that most would just assume it was out of cold or nerves. Then he swiped the matches off the stool and took one out to restart the fire. What would Zoya do if she found out that Dasha had singed their valuable intel’s eyebrows off? She could do it right now—could enlarge the sparks from the matches to make it big enough to reach his face. She chose not to, but there’s a surprising comfort in knowing that she can.

“First of all,” Dasha crosses her arms, “I’m not here to be the help.”

Henrik grunts, more focused on feeding the fire so that it gets big enough to warm the entire house instead of just himself.

“I’m here for my country. And secondly—” she flicks her hands, making the flames roar, barely licking the cuffs of his coat. “—have you forgotten that you were talking to an Inferni?”

The corners of her mouth rose in a smirk, satisfied as she made him tumble back on the heel of his feet. 

He stood up to make himself dinner, rubbing the charred cuff at his wrists, and Dasha heard him call her something under his breath.

“ Scorchwitch .”

***

Dinner was frugal, butter smeared toast and smoked deer meat—though Dasha wished she had jam to go with her bread. She added that to her mental list as she grabbed a couple of plums to snack on as she wrote Zoya a message regarding the stuff that was happening in the market square earlier. Reports of missing people, some saying that they were taken to the Ice Court for trial.

She doesn’t think that the missing people were taken there, because the Ice Court is—according to the Fjerdan—a place for people who were considered the bottom of the barrel. So, Zoya, the infamous Stormwitch, would definitely count as the average barrel dweller. Maybe she would be considered one, too. She’s pretty confident that she could wield her ability well enough to annihilate an entire town. If she tries.

Dasha shook her head, once again distracted by her weird musings. This is why Nikolai called her a ‘space cadet’, which is quite a fitting nickname for her in general. Though she knows it was mostly because her head was always in the clouds—and not because of her love for the stars and moon that adorned the night sky.

She finishes the letter complaining about Henrik,as usual—bless Zoya for putting up with her—and folded it neatly into an envelope. She’ll ask someone from the network to send it out tomorrow, but today she just wants to relax and not have to think of anything else.

With the last bite of her plums, Dasha stood up and walked to the washbasin to splash her face clean before going to sleep. She looks into the mirror and inhales sharply—a little alarmed at the person staring at her in the mirror. Oh, she whispered to herself. She forgot that Genya had tailored her face to fit the usual Fjerdan features. It’ll take a while for her to get used to the new face. Blue eyes, the bridge of her nose a little too high that it looks weird if she were to have it with her original face. And Saints , her hair. She preferred her auburn curls much more than the limp blonde she had to settle with. What would Nikolai say if he were to see her now?

She tucked herself into her bed, her body weary. She hasn’t used much of her power lately, and the dark circles under her eyes were getting too prominent. Today was the first time in almost two weeks that she had even had a reason to use them. And one of them was out of spite. She smiled—Genya would be proud of her. No more being careless, though. It’s far too dangerous to display even the tiniest hint of Grisha abilities, even this far away from Djerholm. Just like Ravka has the Hringsa everywhere in Fjerda as eyes, so does Jarl Brum. It’s hard to trust anyone these days.

***

“Dash!”

Dasha jolted up from her cot, startled. She took a moment to process her surroundings, using her flames to disperse the darkness she woke up to. Droplets of rain pitter pattered the roof of the tent they had been living in the past months, and Dasha shivered as a gust of wind blew into the slight opening of hers.

Who was calling her? She peeked out, dimming her fire so she wouldn’t leave soot on the walls of the tent. Her eyes widened. Several steps north of their camp, before the trees lining the Sikurzoi, a pyre was set up. Smoke haze her vision, but she can see that something was propped up on the pyre, and the burnt smell of it was so overpowering that her eyes teared up. She looked around—assessing her surroundings for danger—and found that the camp was eerily empty, almost like a mass exodus had happened in the span of one night. When she was sure that nothing would sneak up on her, she raised her hands to diminish the burning pyre, but stumbled when she heard someone calling her. From the pyre. “Dasha…” the person—or rather, creature—croaked, burnt hands outstretched towards her. The voice seemed oddly familiar, and fear tingled up her spine. As the smoke started clearing, she noticed something new that she had missed before. It had wings. And talons. Its eyes as black as the charred wood that was used to prop up its body. It’s—

Dasha’s eyes shot open, sweat beading down her forehead. That was the third nightmare she had had in two weeks. She was at the campsite in all of them, reliving the horrors of the slaughter her mind refuses to let go. This was the first time Nikolai was in it. As the demon. She was pretty sure that when Nikolai’s creature first visited her several moons ago; she was not that scared. So why was she dreaming of it?

Clank!

Dasha’s back straightened, startled. The damn neighbour’s cat is always running into things at night. She was about to return to sleep when she heard the soft pit-pat of footsteps on snowy grounds. Who’s up this late ? She rises and knelt on her bed to take a peek outside. Darkness would’ve cloaked the neighbourhood had it not been for the moonlight providing a wash of dim light against white snow. A figure silhouetted against the walls of the shed to the left of the house. She considered telling Henrik to come and see before another figure joined the first. She wanted to conjure her flames to see the faces of the figure, but decide against it. Should she tell Henrik about this? Maybe in the morning when she feels fresher to deal with his sour self. 

She pressed her ear closer to the frosted glass of her window to try to catch a glimpse of what sort of dealings were going on in the dead of night. The winds were not helping her,at all, but she managed to catch one word that gives her an idea of who one of the figures is.

Scorchwitch.

It’s Henrik.

Here's the prologue.

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #1158: New Donk Morning Parade (Super Smash Bros Ultimate)

9:24 a.m. at the Sidewalks of New Donk City.........

It was a bright, lively day in New Donk City as everyone gathered around to watch over this year's Christmas Parade. And what better way to start the celebration of then with.......

'Soft Piano Playing'

Guy Dressed in a Bowser Costume: (Singing While Playing on the Piano on a Float) Peach, you're so cool~ And with my star, we're gonna rule~ Peeeach!~

Chorus: Peach~

Guy Dressed in a Bowser Costume: Please understand!~ I'M GONNA LOVE YOU TO THE VERY END!~

Bowser: (Scoffs Before Turning at His Villains Peers) You guys are hearing this? (Turns Back at the Performance) I can sing that piece MILES better than those posters up there can!

Hades: Really? (Forms an Evil Smirk on his Face) Your last singing performance seems to prove otherwise.

Bowser: It was three years and I was completely wasted that night, so that obviously doesn't count, Hades!

Sephiroth: Drunk or not, your pianist skill is hardly much to be desired in retrospect.

Pichu: (Nodded in Agreement) Pi.

Bowser: (Turns to the Father-Son Duo) That's only cuz I've been rusty for what? A near decade now? (Crosses his Arms While Putting on a Cocky Smirk.on his Face) I was a pretty one hell of a prodigy back then. Check it!

Bowser shows the trio a video of himself playing the piano at a very young age on his phone.

Baby Bowser: (Playing thePhone. Piano Off Key) DA DA DA DA DADADAAAA! DA DA DA DA DAAAADAAA!

Kamek: (Shed a Tear From his Eyes as He Watches the Young King Koopa's Performance) ('Sniff') My darling little king is a prodigy of the making......I'm so proud!~

Pichu: (Looks in Disgust at the Video in Front of Him) Pi....chu....

Hades: (Already Has a Deadpinned Look on his Face) Yeah, you were a really prodigy alright. Of pure delusional.

Sephiroth: (Simply Shrugs) I've heard worse.

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

"Santa": (Sitting on his Red Sledge with Mrs Claus, Waving at Everyone Around) HO HO HO! MERRRRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYBODY!~

Sage: (Standing next to Bowser Jr While Watching the Parade in her Hologram Form) So this is what Santa Claus look like, Junior?

Jr: Yep. The big, jolly, fatman himself. A legend among all the boys and girls from across the globe. (Turns to Sage) He's gonna be at mall all month, so we'll probably go he see at some point.

Sage: (Smiles Softly) That sounds fun. (Sighs While Letting Out a Sigh) It's a shame I couldn't physically join you all on this wonderful experience this year.

Jr: Hey, your family comes first, right? There's no need to feel bad about that. Besides, don'tcha guys still have that huge project you still have to finish?

Sage: (Simply Nodded) For the most part. The Homemade Ice Cream Maker is approximately 52,6% in completion, so there's much more work to be thoroughly done. (Smiles Softly) Regardless, that it in of itself, won't ever stop me from missing you dearly, Junior.

Junior: (Immediately Starts Blushing) O-Oh! Well, I'm uh......already missing you already, Sage.....So does everyone else in the Smash Family......

Sage: (Giggles Softly) I can tell~ Your attempts at holding my holographic hands is evidence of that.

Jr: (Looks Down at his Hand Before Quickly Moving it Away From the Hologram) What handing hold? I just feel the need to grab something is all.....

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

Roy: (Watching Sage Giggling at an Already Flustered Junior in the Distance) ('Tch') Look at 'em. Tryin' to be all cutesy with one another....(Cross his Arms) Gonna be a matter of time before those two start becoming certified lovebirds.

Ludwig: (Too Busy Reading the New Donk City's Guide Book) And yet here you are with little to no one to romanticize.

Kumatora: (Shrugs) Not too surprising really.

Roy: (Glares at the Couple Beside Him) Can it, nimberons! I can get any chick anytime I want whenever I feel like it!

Kumatora: Uh-huh.

Ludwig: (Casually Turns the Page) Highly doubt it, but good for you I suppose.

Roy: Oh screw the both you!

Maria: (Smiles Brightly) I don't think I could ever comprehend how breathtaking these parades are.

Alucard: I've seen more entertaining attractions in my younger years really. But I suppose this.....parade you all speak isn't too bad.

Roy: (Turns to Alucard with his Signature Cocky Smirk of his Face) What's the matter, old man? Afraid of getting out of your comfort zone?

Alucard: (Rolls his Eyes) Far from it. I'm only experiencing the moderation of what this generation has to offer. Which is more than I say about you sulking over having no romantic partner.

Roy: (Starts Letting Out a Offened Chuckle) I'm sorry, was that a remark you made towards me just now?

Alucard: I wouldn't say it was a remark per say. I just happen to noticed a blatant insecurity and felt the need to call it out as it is.

Roy: (Starta Chuckling) Blatant insecurity, huh? Alright. We'll see who's insecure.....(Glares at the Vampire) After I beat your ass in a game of Arm Wrestling!

Ludwig: (Abruptly Closes his Book Before Turning Towards his Brother) What?

Kumatora: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Huh?

Maria: (Places her Hand on her Lips in Genuine Surprise) Oh!

Alucard: Pardon?

Roy: You heard me! I challenge you to one on one arm wrestle! Winner gets bragging on all accounts!

Ludwig: Roy, have you ACTUALLY lost your mind right now!? This is Master Alucard you are challenging!

Roy: (Turns to Ludwig) AND!? I ain't scare of an old timer like him!

Kumatora: I dunno, ypu should he. 'Heard he's a real tough cookie to crack.

Maria: The toughest cookie I've ever known and love.

Roy: A cookie I'mma bout to crack! (Pounds his Fist to the Palm of his Hands)

Ludwig: (Turns to his Girlfriend and Master) Kuma, grandmother, I'm imporing you to stop encouraging him even further!

Kuma: Luddy, it's fin-Wait. Grandmother?

Ludwig: (Eyes Widened at the Realization of What he Just Said) N-No! I-It's Ms! Ms. Maria I meant to say! N-Nothing else besides that.

Roy: ('Scoffs') Liar.

Maria: (Heart Begins to Melt in Pure Happiness as She Pulls Ludwig into a Loving Hug) Oh my dear, Luddy, I'd be honored to play the role of your Grandmommy~

Ludwig: I-I mean......(Starts Blushing) You don't have to....

Kuma: (Giggles Softly) Awww~ Congrats, babe!~ You just got yourself a grandma to look after!~

Alucard: Is that right? I suppose that makes me a grandfather then?

Ludwig: Master please.....

Roy: (Start Rolling his Eyes) ANYWAYS....(Turns Back To Alucard) Does my request still stands, geezer?

Alucard: ('Sigh') Very well. I accept your challenge. But can we at least do this on a later date? I'm currently enjoying my vacation with mi'lady and our faithful grandson.

Ludwig: (Glares at his Gran- Master) Okay, now you're just doing that on purpose!

Roy: ('Sigh') Aight, fine. We'll do once it's all over and we're back home. Good? Good. (Pulls his Habd Out) Now let's shake on it.

Alucard sighs once more as he reluctantly shakes on Roy's hand, awaiting for his so called challenge. In the near future.

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

Diddy: ('Sigh') This is getting ridiculous, big guy. You can't keep wearing that every time you're out in public! You have better clothes to wear back the room.

DK: (Sighs While Wearing a Trench Coat, Hat, and Shades) Yeah, but I don't wanna be given death glares all day! They're reminding me way too much of Wrinkly's glare......

Diddy: (Starts Shivering at the Thought in Particular) Don't remind me.....Those eyes of her could even make Cranky curl up in fear......(Eyes Begins to Widened at Something that Catches his Attention) Hey, DK! This a look at this! (Points at a Float Rolling by of the Original DK Beating on his Chest in Pixelated Form)

DK: (Lowers his Shades Down to see the Float In Question) Hm. That's a pretty good looking float.

Diddy: Right? It's pretty and detailed....It's still crazy for me believe that Cranky used to look like this all those years ago.

DK: (Slowly Shakes his Head) Poor old man must've REALLY let himself go after those glory days ended.......

Diddy: (Shrugs) I can believe that. It would probably explains why he's so bitter and cranky all the time. (Turns Back to DK) Say, you think he'll like some souvenirs?

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

'Horns Playing'

Pauline: (Singing While Riding On her Christmas Float Along with Bandmates) It's time to Jump Up in the air!~ Jump Up, don't be scared!~ Jump up and cares will spar awayyyyy!~

Peach: (Watches the Performance Driving by While Letting Out a Heavy Sigh)

?????: Peach?

Peach: (Immediately Comes Back to Reality) Ah! Um....(Clears her Throat Before Looking Down at Mario) Y-Yes, Mario?

Mario: Sorry for startling you for there. You looked like you were out if it minute there. Is everything okay?

Peach: (Giggles a Bit as She Hugs Onto Mario From Behind) You worry too much, dear~ I'm okay, honest! I was too busy listening to the song Pauline was performing is all.

Mario: (Smiles Brightly) You like it? She wrote for me as thanks for helping her and city out in the past, even went as far as to throw me a huge concert afterwards

Peach: Oooh~ That must've really exciting for you.

Mario: (Smiles Sheepishly) It was more surprising if anything. But I had a great time regardless.

Peach: I'm so glad you did. It seems like a more remarkable reward than some cake.

Mario: (Starts Shaking his hand a Bit) Ehhh.....I think concerts are fine and all, but I prefer receiving cakes more if anything.

Peach: (Eyes Starts Sparkling in Happiness) Even mines?~

Mario: (Chuckles Lightly) Yes, dear~ Especially yours~ You're a wonderful cook. (Kiss the Top of Peach's Hand)

Peach: (Happily Rocks Mario From Side to Side a Bit) Ohh you sweetheart of a plumber, I'm flattered!~ Thank you!~ (Forms a Proud Smile on her Face) (HA! Score one for the princess back home, Mayor!)

Zelda: (Staring at The Couple in the Mid Distance While Standing Next to Mewtwo) Wow. You were not kidding when you said she's jealous fueled

Mewtwo: (Simply Shrugs While his Arms is Crossed) Not surprising really. Her expressions alone were too easy to read.

Zelda: Yeah. Kinda like a certain Legendary Pokémon I know. (Turns to Mewtwo with a Raised an Eyebrow)

Mewtwo: (Turns Away) You're going still on about that?

Zelda: Kinda hard for me not to when you tried to find out what I'm getting you this year with your mind reading shenanigans.

Mewtwo: (Starts Blushing).......Teaching you psychic manipulation was a mistake.

Zelda: Uh-huh sure. Just wait until Christmas morning like everyone else, okay Mewwy? I promise it'll be worth the wait.

Mewtwo: (Pulls Out his Pinky) You solemnly swear?

Zelda: (Giggles Softly While Playfully Rolls her Eyes) Yes, I pinky swear. (Wraps her Pinky Around Mewtwo's) You cute goof~

Mewtwo: Not cute. But also thank you.

@cyber-wildcat

@ma-lemons

@albion-93

@theweebmaster31

[thequixotic]

was that EMILIANO LAZAROS? the THIRTY SEVEN year old is a BAKER, how exciting to see them this season! rumors have it they are COMPASSIONATE and FORGIVING, but i’ve heard they are PASSIVE and NAIVE as well — maybe that’s why they’ve been called the QUIXOTIC. I have even heard that HE’S TERRIBLE WITH MONEY AND HIS FAMILY PAYS FOR IT, LITERALLY AND EMOTIONALLY —only time will tell.

Every good story needs good background characters, don't you think? And wouldn't you know it, I am notorious for writing Just Some Guy. And, thus, I present to you:

ABOUT.

Emiliano is the first born and only son to a family that is, frankly, just getting by. The oldest of three, Emil has always tried to support the family as best he can, but he's always been more of a hanging by the sidelines guy. Besides, Gabe may only be a little over a year younger than him, but they do a better job taking charge of the three of them, especially since their parents died not much longer after Jimena was born

Anyway, with Gabe running the home, and Jimena running around and giving them trouble to look after, Emil is just trying not to let them both down, and that starts with just holding down a job

His first ever job started on a nearby street corner selling fruit — it was simple enough to start and he had a good eye for what would taste best so for a while, it was a decent living

He quickly outgrew that though, so when Gabe started working in a noble house and scored him an in as a stable boy, he jumped at the chance. It felt romantic in a very classic way until he realized how much time he spent just hanging out with horses and the business they get up to. He sorely missed people

The thing about Emil is that he is always dreaming. Of the world, of experiences, of a life full of people and love, instead of working to the bone just to survive

So while his family sorely needs him at home, Emil knew he wanted to be out there learning and traveling like all the fancy folk do. But the Lazaros family does not have the funds for that — so he decides what he can do is try his hand at the life of a traveling salesman. Problem solved

Another thing about Emil, though, is that unfortunately he is so easy to scam. Just laughably softhearted and willing to see the best in people. That does not make you a compelling salesman, it turns out

So he does keep losing money, even after begging Gabe to send some with broken promises about investments and paying her back double. In his travels, most of what he found were people struggling just as hard as he was and his wallet was immediately opening

Eventually, and shamefully, he makes his way back home, accepting that this was just another venture lost. He learned a lot of neat home skills just so he could keep himself alive and fed while he was on the road, but nothing substantial he can make a living out of

That is, until, he stumbles on an opening at the bakery that catches his interest. It's nothing glamorous, but it's something he knows he can do, and at least he can see people regularly (sorry to the horses)

Currently... Emiliano is still just doing his best. Maybe he lives with his head in the clouds, baking his bread and pies while he dreams of a world he'll never live in, but someone's got to knead this dough, right?

STATS.

name: Emiliano Lazaros

nickname: Emil, Emmi (if you're family)

faceclaim: Alfonso Herrera

orientation: Bisexual

languages known: English, Spanish

education: Nah

height: 5'9"

likes: daydreaming, traveling, peach cobbler, talking to people, the ocean, hugs so tight your bones feel warm for a moment

dislikes: horses, monotony, snow, letting his family down, marriage

CONNECTIONS.

Friends – I imagine he tries to make friends everywhere he goes, so maybe they met young while he was a scamp on the streets, maybe they met while he was traveling and he failed to sell you on his wares, maybe you frequent the bakery and he's struck up a conversation every time you come in, the possibilities are endless

House Eaton – Anyone who has worked or visited often enough to have known Emil when he worked in the stables and are like oh... that guy. I hope he's doing okay now...

Scammed – Like I said above, even if he's fully aware you might be lying to him, Emil is so easy to scam. He wants to believe in the best from you! And even if they both know he was lied to by know, he's already forgiven them

Exes – Someone who Emil was serious about and fully in love with until the topic of marriage came up, which spooked him so badly that he just gave up on the relationship altogether. Up to you whether they were able to talk it out or he's dead to them now

Unrequited – Would it really surprise you that he's coveted someone way out of his league? A man can dream... He definitely wears his heart on his sleeve, though, so perhaps his pining is so obvious that your character is fully aware. In fact, I'll even open this up to anyone can let their character know about this lol

I'm so open for anything else under the sun though!! Please feel free to hop in my dms and whisk me away with a completely unrelated idea other than what I have up here! I am putty in your hands <3

[heyyallitssatan]

My boredom is immense, let’s fucking go

Soda cans

Lollipops

Bubblegum

A pleasure to have in class

Styrofoam cups

Grunge?

Headphones

Tv shows

Hot leather

Crab Soccer

Rice porridge

Angry dad rock

Lanyard

Lemon heads

Great Gatsby

The chaotic neutral

A very old pair of Nikes that I have worn holes into and the soles off, 10/10 v comfortable

Cloudy, 75°, 10-12 mph south breeze, between 40-60% humidity, it drizzled last night and everything is slightly damp without being wet so it’s not dusty

One my left side, right leg curled up to my chest, left leg down where my dog props her back legs up on my thigh, one arms under my pillow and the other scratching her head, I will wake up in the middle of the night with me flat on my back because I’m unable to breathe cause she’s on my chest

Sketchbook or notes app

Magic treehouse, I read all of them

Fuck if I know

I sing the pi song at half speed when I’m anxious

Rainbow quartz

I love rock and roll, I was six, I fully blame this moment for both my punk awakening

Swim

Wake up early to make coffee and waffles, then eat and drink on the balcony with my roommates

I love rock and roll, I don’t wanna go to heaven, Randy mcnally, raging on a Sunday, feed the machine

Read a book or watch a show with me and talk about thoughts/theories

Walmart parking lots, boba shops, the back of the library, anywhere at three am, treehouses

Band tees, patch work jeans, knee high pride socks and platform docs

Road work ahead? Uh yeah I sure hope it does, I said whoever threw that paper your moms a hoe, whaddup I’m Jared im 19 and I never learned how to fucking read, I don’t have enough money for chicken nuggets, it is Wednesday my dudes

Fuck if I know

JG Wentworth, 877 cash now

00:30

Grumpy cat

Duffel

Mix em together

Lemon cake

We had a bench that we carved the names of every kid that ever died there into, it was half full when I got there, and three quarters full when I left

My mum

Pants pockets

Hoodie

Peach

Fantasy

Boxers

Pepper Jack

Raspberry

Kindness is punk as fuck, be punk as fuck

It was my friends, we were drinking boba and trading gifts on Christmas, I don’t remember what anyone said or even what the gifts were, but I remember we were sharing food and I laughed harder than I had in a long long time, I was in a bad place but for a few hours they made it all so much better

School and finding a better job, dealing with my family, but things are better than they used to be

Courier

Hard

How not to burn myself

Pied piper

Christmas Potluck, my roommates and I for years now always get together on Christmas to share food and gifts

My bad eyesight, chronic joint pain, being queer and nonbinary

I’m flexible, can draw good sometimes, can write good sometimes, can read fast

A raised eyebrow and a sigh of derision

Shounen, bleach or Naruto style, but I don’t want to be a main character, I just wanna be the side character that shows up sometimes as a plot device to help the other characters while also being an ass and calling them idiots

No mourners no funerals

I don’t know, I see pieces of myself in most characters

Don’t threaten me with a good time, raging on a Sunday, American horror show, emperors new groove, verbatim

Cool math games had a choke hold on me

Wrecked my bike when I was younger, the front of both knees are basically all scar tissue now

I like wisteria and sunflowers

This cat head necklace my mum found at a fair once

Artificial grape flavouring, goes for medicine too

Hippos are more closely related to dolphins than any other species

Right

Paisley

Math

Raspberry, lime, vanilla, ginger, and cream soda

Six or seven

Six or seven

Cheesy mashed potatoes or fries with ranch

Aloe

I’ve had both, gas station coffee wins

School ID

Jewel tones

Fireflies

Console

Drawing

Talk radio

Polly pocket

Mythology

Cupcakes

Losing my mind

Writing a book

I don’t know

I got put in an archery club by accident when the school put me in the wrong class couldn’t switch cause all the other classes were too full, five years later and I was competing nationally with my two best friends one of which became my roommate

Fairy lights

Of course

Fall

Spotify

A beautiful sunset at the beach, I’m fucking with you it’s a rotating image of the aroace flag that says “fuck? No” in Burbank condensed

4

Edwardian for fashion, 80’s for music, Twenties for vibes, 60’s for rights, and Han dynasty for fuck yeah

weird asks that say a lot

in

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

7. earbuds or headphones?

8. movies or tv shows?

9. favorite smell in the summer?

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

12. name of your favorite playlist?

13. lanyard or key ring?

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

18. ideal weather?

19. sleeping position?

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

21. obsession from childhood?

22. role model?

23. strange habits?

24. favorite crystal?

25. first song you remember hearing?

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

28. five songs to describe you?

29. best way to bond with you?

30. places that you find sacred?

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

32. top five favorite vines?

33. most used phrase in your phone?

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

35. average time you fall asleep?

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

38. lemonade or tea?

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

41. last person you texted?

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

44. favorite scent for soap?

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

47. favorite type of cheese?

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

51. current stresses?

52. favorite font?

53. what is the current state of your hands?

54. what did you learn from your first job?

55. favorite fairy tale?

56. favorite tradition?

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

62. seven characters you relate to?

63. five songs that would play in your club?

64. favorite website from your childhood?

65. any permanent scars?

66. favorite flower(s)?

67. good luck charms?

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

70. left or right handed?

71. least favorite pattern?

72. worst subject?

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

82. pc or console?

83. writing or drawing?

84. podcasts or talk radio?

84. barbie or polly pocket?

85. fairy tales or mythology?

86. cookies or cupcakes?

87. your greatest fear?

88. your greatest wish?

89. who would you put before everyone else?

90. luckiest mistake?

91. boxes or bags?

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

93. nicknames?

94. favorite season?

95. favorite app on your phone?

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

98. favorite historical era?

[dadjokestop]

Dad Jokes Thanksgiving Edition

Dad Jokes Thanksgiving —a time for family, food, and the inevitable dad jokes that get passed around the dinner table like the mashed potatoes. While we stuff ourselves with turkey and pies, let’s also stuff our hearts with laughter. These Thanksgiving dad jokes are sure to make your relatives groan, roll their eyes, and laugh (maybe against their will). So grab your stretchy pants and prepare for some cheesy, turkey-filled humor! Why Dad Jokes at Thanksgiving? Because what’s better than awkwardly waiting for the turkey to cook or recovering from a food coma? Dad jokes bring everyone together for a chuckle or an eye-roll, and they’re harmless enough that even Grandma won’t mind (too much). Let’s dive into some perfectly corny Thanksgiving dad jokes to make this holiday even more memorable! Joke 1: Why did the turkey cross the road? To prove he wasn’t chicken! But he might’ve been running from the Thanksgiving feast! Joke 2: What’s the best song to play while cooking a turkey? All About That Baste! You know, because it’s all in the baste, ’bout that baste, no trouble! Joke 3: Why don’t turkeys ever tell secrets? Because they’re always gobbling everything up! Loose beak sinks ships—or in this case, dinners! Joke 4: What do you get if you divide the circumference of a pumpkin by its diameter? Pumpkin pi! Perfect for math lovers who also love dessert! Joke 5: Why did the cranberries turn red? Because they saw the turkey dressing! Talk about some juicy gossip in the kitchen! Joke 6: What do you call a running turkey? Fast food! But not fast enough to escape Thanksgiving dinner, unfortunately. Joke 7: What kind of key can’t open doors? A tur-key! But it sure knows how to unlock your appetite! Joke 8: Why was the Thanksgiving soup so expensive? It had 24 carrots in it! Nothing like some golden humor to spice up the meal! Joke 9: Why didn’t the turkey want dessert? Because he was already stuffed! But there’s always room for pie, right? Joke 10: What’s a turkey’s favorite dessert? Peach gobbler! And it’s guaranteed to leave you gobbling for more! Joke 11: Why do pilgrims’ pants always fall down? Because they wear their belt-buckles on their hats! And you thought your Thanksgiving fashion choices were questionable! Joke 12: What’s the best part of Thanksgiving dinner? The nap afterwards! It’s the ultimate food coma tradition! Joke 13: What did the turkey say before it was roasted? “Boy, I’m really getting roasted here!” Don’t worry, turkey, it’s all in good humor (and flavor)! Joke 14: What do you call a turkey after Thanksgiving? Lucky! If it’s still around by Black Friday, that is. Joke 15: Why was the turkey excused from the table? Because he was using fowl language! But can you blame him? He had a rough day! Joke 16: What did the sweet potato say when it won the competition? “I yam the best!” Humble brag from everyone’s favorite side dish! Joke 17: What happens when you eat too much at Thanksgiving? You get autumn-atically sleepy! It’s like the leaves falling, only it’s you on the couch. Joke 18: How do you fix a broken pumpkin pie? With a little pumpkin patch! And some whipped cream, obviously! Joke 19: Why didn’t the cook season the turkey? Because there was already plenty of thyme on their hands! And maybe a little too much rosemary! Joke 20: What’s the official dance of Thanksgiving? The turkey trot! It’s perfect for burning off that extra slice of pie—if you can still move, that is! Joke 21: Why did the mashed potatoes disinvite the gravy to Thanksgiving dinner? Because it was acting too saucy! Sometimes you just need to keep things mashed and mellow! Joke 22: What’s the best way to stuff a turkey? Serve him lots of pizza and ice cream! That’ll keep him full and off the table! Joke 23: What does Thanksgiving have in common with Halloween? You gobble up all the food! Except this time, no costumes required—just stretchy pants! Joke 24: How do you know the turkey loves Thanksgiving?

Because it’s absolutely carving up the spotlight! Though we might all need some carving ourselves afterward! Joke 25: Why was the Thanksgiving table so chatty? Because it was full of sides! And they all had a lot to say about the main course! Joke 26: Why did the pie go to the doctor? It was feeling crusty! A little whipped cream therapy goes a long way! Joke 27: What did the turkey say to the computer? “Google, gobble!” Turns out, even turkeys are looking for last-minute escape plans! Joke 28: Why don’t turkeys play baseball? Because they’re afraid of getting fowl balls! And who can blame them? They’re in enough trouble already! Joke 29: Why do cranberries never get lonely? Because they always come in bunches! Plus, they’re surrounded by turkey and stuffing at the table! Joke 30: How do you know you’re at a good Thanksgiving? When the laughter is as full as your belly! And everyone’s already calling dibs on leftovers! Conclusion: A Feast of Laughter There you have it—a cornucopia of goofy Dad Jokes Thanksgiving to share with your family and friends. Whether you're cracking jokes before the turkey is served or keeping everyone entertained after the meal, these groan-worthy puns are sure to get the whole table laughing. So, give thanks, enjoy the food, and remember—there’s always room for one more dad joke! Happy Thanksgiving!