#wishing waffle iron

[thatsbelievable]

[copperbadge]

I've had to introduce a moment in the latest novel where Eddie is having a minor crisis, and I wanted Simon to recognize it because he's cooking a specific dish he always cooks when he's dealing with anxiety or stress. But it took me for damn ever to figure out what that dish should be -- I don't cook as a coping mechanism for anxiety so I was no help to me. And I'm all for self care but if you Google "stress cooking" you mostly get "simple meals to cook when you're depressed" which is not what I was going for.

I did finally come up with something (see below) but it occurred to me this could be a fun discussion. If you cook to cope, even if it's coping with something other than stress like anger or sadness, what do you cook?

As an example, you can read about Eddie's stress cooking behind the cut...

(context: Simon is enjoying an evening chat with his brother Hugo and Hugo's wife Gwen when he sees Eddie post to Photogram.)

"What's he up to, anyway?" Gwen asked, as Simon studied the post.

"Process photos for a dish," he said, mildly concerned, because it looked like -- "He's making waffles. American waffles."

"Is that bad?" Gwen asked.

"It's not...good," Simon said.

"It's what he makes when he's stressed, and trying not to think about something," Hugo, who had witnessed the stress waffles before, explained.

"Because you can't see the waffles while they're cooking, and if you check too soon, you'll pull them in half," Simon added.

"How does that relieve stress?"

"It doesn't," Simon and Hugo chorused. Gwen looked amused.

"It just means you have to stand next to the waffle iron the entire time and watch it, and all the anxiety goes into that, instead of whatever you were worrying about," Simon continued. "So he explained it, in any case. His parents taught him that when steam stops rising the waffle is done, so you have to watch for the steam. As a wedding gift they gave him the waffle iron they cooked on when he was a child, so it's..."

"Comforting," Gwen suggested. "That's kind of sweet."

"Yes, but not entirely a good thing," Simon mused. "I do wish he'd let go of the idea he's not a baker. He's entirely adequate at most baked goods I've seen him make, and it would do him a world of good to really get into sourdough," he said to Hugo, who nodded knowingly. "I feel sourdough waffles would be a balm to the soul, and also taste better than the quick-rise kind."

"The heart wants what the heart wants," Gwen said.

"I suppose so," Simon agreed. "I'll speak to him tomorrow. Many confessions happen in a kitchen."

[notti-stellate]

Good Morning

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: A somewhat perfect morning with JJ.

Word count: 0.6k

Proofread: Kinda

Warnings: Smoke, mention of drinking, PDA, major fluff

You sighed softly as you woke up, feeling an odd weight in your chest. Looking down you saw your boyfriend’s fluffy blonde hair as he laid sprawled over you. He reminded you of a blanket, the thought making you laugh quietly. Feeling your chest move, JJ slowly opened one eye, tightening his arms around your torso.

“Morning princess,” he mumbled, a small smile adorning his lips.

“Hi J” you whispered, running your fingers along his bare back, scratching softly. His hum of appreciation made you wish you could stay in this moment forever, frozen in time with the person you love most.

JJ’s phone ringing broke you out of your thoughts. He sighed, sliding his finger over the screen and placing the phone on his ear.

“What?” He grumbled to who you assumed was Pope or Mr.Heyward asking where he was. Realizing your moment was over, you slid out of his arms, much to his dismay. Throwing on JJ’s old shirt you walked out of your room, heading towards the kitchen. You could hear JJ sigh and follow you out of your room, padding down the hallway.

After JJ hung up, he came over to where you were standing, wrapping his arms around your hips and burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

“What time do you need to go in?” You asked, pouring waffle mix into the iron.

“An hour ago,” JJ chuckled, swaying softly in place. You just shook your head laughing, that boy was alway late. 

Turning around in his arms, you pressed your lips together softly, only pulling away when you heard the waffle iron beep. Spinning you to face him again, JJ kissed you with much more passion than before, your lips moving in sync as though they were puzzle pieces, meant to fit together. You were so deeply focused on him that you didn’t hear the waffles beep.

Smelling smoke you pulled away, your eyes widening when you realized what had happened. You flung around, grabbing the burnt waffle and tossing it out the front door. JJ loved the fact that you could get so lost in each other, even if it didn’t always have the best outcome. Laughing, you turned back to face him, seeing him laughing as well.

Placing the finished pancakes on two plates, one for you and the other for JJ, you set them on the table. Turning around when you heard a beer can opening, you shook your head at him nodding your head towards the full coffee pot and sitting down.

“Mr.Heyward’s gonna freak if he finds out you were drinking before work.” You muttered, taking a sip of coffee. Sitting across from you, JJ smiled taking a bite of his breakfast. These mornings were your favorite parts of the day, having a little bit of peace before you both had to leave for work or school. To be completely honest, you were still in disbelief at times that JJ was actually yours, not just some small crush you had like before. No matter how long you were together you were still convinced that one day you would wake up and all of your perfect days with JJ would be a distant fantasy. Not that he would ever admit it but he had the same thoughts.

After breakfast you smiled as JJ kissed you goodbye muttering a soft “I love you” before walking out the door. Even though you had just seen him you were already missing the warm feeling of his arms around you, it was obvious you were, without a doubt, completely infatuated with the young Maybank

[corroded-hellfire]

Well, since it's this weekend… what about Ryan and Luke giving their favorite baby-sitter something for Mother's Day? Either after Eddie officially gets the girl, or before… I bet Brittany would loooove to find out that her kids made something for Mother's Day in school, and gave it to the baby-sitter instead of her. 😏

I love, love, love this. @munson-blurbs and I came up with a little sweet and spicy tale. Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there except Brittany 😘

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, mild choking, Eddie’s breeding kink is loud and proud

Words: 4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Okay, next we need a cup of water.” Eddie hands the glass measuring cup to Ryan, nodding towards the sink. “Fill ‘er up and then—carefully—dump it in the bowl.” Ryan does as he’s instructed, and Eddie proceeds with the recipe. “Now, Luke, you’re going to gently mix it all together.” 

Luke takes the directions a bit too seriously, circling the spoon around the bowl at a painstakingly slow pace. “Like that?” he asks proudly. 

“Liiiiittle faster, bud,” Eddie says, holding his thumb and forefinger apart slightly to emphasize his point. “I’d like to get these made before Father’s Day.”

Once the waffle batter is completely combined—Eddie had to help out before the milk curdled—he ladles it into the waffle iron, inhaling the cozy scent of homemade waffles. It’s what he’s always wanted: family dinners where he and his boys cook. Getting to spoil his girl with love and breakfast food. 

His girl. He still can’t believe that you’re his girl. 

“Did you guys make anything for Mom at school today?” Teachers usually have the kids do some sort of Mother’s Day craft, and Eddie wants to make sure that it gets to Brittany before she can accuse him of withholding her gifts. 

Ryan and Luke share a look that Eddie is unable to decipher. “Um, nothing?” Ryan says meekly, though it comes out as more of a question. 

Eddie frowns. “No art project this year? Not even a macaroni necklace?” He sets the timer and leans back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Neither of you?”

“No, we did,” Ryan admits, “but we were talking, and…we don’t wanna give them to Mom.”

“Yeah,” Luke chimes in, an unmistakable smirk spreading across his face, “we wanna give them to your giiiiiiirlfriend!” 

“Luke!” Ryan scolds, but his eyes tell Eddie that he had the same idea. “Is that okay?” he asks his dad. 

Eddie nods. “Of course. I think she’ll love that.” He starts to wipe down the counter before turning back to his boys. “You still need to give Mom the gifts that we bought her, yeah?” Not that she deserves them, he thinks bitterly, but she’ll have my head on a platter if they come over empty-handed. 

“Okay,” Ryan says as he puts the milk back in the refrigerator. “And the cards we bought, too.”

“Oh! And we made cards to go with our gifts tonight!” Luke adds. 

“Did you now?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at his youngest son. “You got a future working for Hallmark?”

“Daddy, you know I’m going to be a monster truck driver.”

“Right, how could I forget?”

A key turns in the lock of the front door and an instant smile appears on Eddie’s face. Ever since he’d given you the key to his apartment, he’s been locking the door more just because the sound of you unlocking it when you come over makes him happy. Both boys scurry in that direction and Eddie follows behind at a leisurely pace. 

You’re barely able to put your keys back in your bag before being enveloped in two sets of small arms.

“Oof!” You toss your bag over on the closest chair and wrap your arms around the boys. “This is a nice welcome. Ooh, and what smells so good in here?”

“Happy Mother’s Day!” both boys cheer. 

It takes you a moment to realize that they’re saying those words to you. They are wishing you a happy Mother’s Day. 

“W-What?” you ask, slightly stunned. 

“We won’t see you on Sunday, so we wanted to have Mother’s Day with you now!” Luke says as he takes one of your hands in both of his. 

“Yeah!” Ryan agrees. “And we made your favorite breakfast for dinner. Waffles! Daddy helped.”

“Helped?” Eddie mumbles under his breath, but it goes unnoticed by both kids. 

“This is so sweet,” you say, the wide array of emotions hurtling through you. Dropping to your knees, you tug the Munson children against your body so that you can give them a proper hug. “I love you boys so much.”

“We love you, too,” Ryan says. 

“Let’s go get the presents,” Luke says to his brother.

“Ah-ah, not until after we eat,” Eddie pipes up.

Luke sighs and lolls his head in the direction of his father. “We can’t just go get them?”

“Fine, go ahead. There’s about to be some kissing anyway, and I don’t think you wanna see that,” Eddie teases. It works. The boys head down the hall to their rooms and as soon as you get back up on your feet, Eddie pulls you into his embrace. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

“Hi, handsome,” you say as you loop your arms around his neck. Tilting your head up, your mouth catches against your boyfriend’s and you sink into the kiss. A loud rattling noise and a shout of I’m okay has the two of you breaking apart. “Was this your idea?”

“Nope,” Eddie says, popping the “p.” He rubs his hands up and down your back as he gives you a smile that’s full of pride in his sons. “They asked me just yesterday if we could do this—have the waffles for dinner. And I didn’t know about the gifts until about two minutes before you walked in.”

“I’m getting spoiled tonight,” you muse, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. You start to walk towards the table, but he pulls you back to him. 

“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs in your ear, squeezing your ass. “As soon as they leave, I’m going to—”

“Is dinner almost ready?” Luke whines as he thunders into the room. “I’m starving!”

Eddie races to him, crouching down and placing one hand on either of Luke’s shoulders. “Do you think you’ll make it?! Hang on, Luke! Don’t go into the light!” He ruffles his son’s curly hair. “Yeah, it’s ready. Go sit down at the table.”

Luke giggles as he takes his seat, and Ryan trails behind him. 

“How was school?” you ask them, putting waffles on plates and setting them at their places. “Learn anything new?”

Luke nods enthusiastically. “My friend Todd bounced a hot dog on the ground at lunch, and it almost touched the ceiling!”

Eddie shrugs. “I guess that’s science, kind of? What about you, Ry? Conduct any food experiments?”

“No, but we started learning about fractions today,” Ryan says, taking a bite of his dinner. “It was tricky at first, but then I got it.”

“That’s my boy!” Eddie high-fives him. “Munsons don’t give up when things get tough.”

“Is that why you took senior year three times?” you tease him, and his jaw drops in mock offense. 

“Hey, Daddy?” Luke interrupts, grabbing the syrup bottle and positioning it over the waffle and drenching it in the sticky-sweet sauce. “Can we do presents now?”

“When dinner’s over,” Eddie reminds him, taking the bottle before Luke can empty it. “And, no, that’s not permission to shove the entire waffle in your mouth at once.”

“Fine,” he concedes, turning his attention to you. “So, who’s your favorite: me or Ryan?”

You shake your head, cutting your waffle into neat little squares. “I can’t answer that. I love you both equally.” You glance at your boyfriend for confirmation, but of course, he’s no help. 

“That means you must fight for her love and affection!” he roars, deepening his voice to a raspy growl. “Men, grab your armor!”

You roll your eyes at his antics, but there’s a smile on your face the whole time. 

Unsurprisingly, Luke is the first one finished with his food. He sits in his chair, fingers beating a rapid rhythm against the tabletop. The patience of a five-year-old can only go so far, though. Eddie tries to hold in a chuckle because it looks like his youngest is near wetting himself. 

“Okay,” Eddie caves with a sigh. “Get your presents ready.” 

“Yes!” Luke cheers as he grabs his gift and the homemade card made of red construction paper. Eddie stands and clears away the plates while both boys take a seat on either side of you with their respective presents. “Mine first!” Luke slides his towards you. 

First, you pick up the card and grin at the flower smiling back at you on the cover. On the inside, Luke has written in his adorable boyish handwriting: “Happy Mother’s Day! I 🖤 you! Love, Luke.” You ruffle Luke’s curls and press a kiss to his forehead. 

“Here’s the gift I made.” Luke points at it. Picking it up, you see it’s a Shrinky Dink that Luke has written his name on and someone—presumably the teacher, put it on a key ring. 

“This is perfect!” you exclaim as you look over your new keychain. “I use my keys every time I drive or have to get into my house, so I’ll always see your name and think of you.”

Luke grins and throws his arms around your neck. You chuckle and maneuver him into your lap so he’s not hugging you from an uncomfortable angle. 

“Thank you, Luke.”

“Now me!” Ryan hands you his card, designed on purple construction paper. It says: “I am happy that your with Daddy now because that means I see you more and I like seeing you. Happy Mother’s Day! I love you! Ryan.”

“That is very sweet, Ryan.” 

“Thanks! This is what I made you,” he says. A heavy lump of what you can only assume is clay is placed in your hands. Tilting it to inspect the blue ceramic piece, you realize it’s the shape of a hand. Ryan’s hand, to be more specific. His handprint has been molded into a small ceramic dish. “It’s for jewelry! To hold it.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! I’m going to put it right next to my bed for when I take my jewelry off at night.”

“It’s like I’ll be holding it,” Ryan says with a giggle. 

“I know it’s in safe hands then,” you say, reaching over to boop his nose. “Thank you both for the thoughtful cards and gifts. I’m very lucky and grateful for you two.”

“Ahem,” Eddie cuts in with a dramatic throat clear. “No love for me? I’ll have you know that I’m the only one here who knows how to use the waffle iron, thank you very much.”

“You’re right,” you sigh, but when he leans in for a kiss, you just boop his nose as well. “Here, let me get the dishes.” You stand up to start towards the sink, but he playfully tugs you back down.

“Not a chance,” he says with a wink. “The Munson men are on it! Boys, I’ll need all hands on deck.”

Luke and Ryan begrudgingly follow their dad, dragging their feet as they walk to where Eddie’s flicking on the faucet and rinsing the dirty dishes. “Can we at least listen to music?” Luke grumbles, grabbing the sponge.

“Can you ask that without whining?” Eddie nudges him, but his tone is serious. “Try again.”

Luke plasters a giant fake smile on his face. “Can we please listen to music?” he asks.

“Of course, my wonderful, perfect second-born.” Eddie goads, clicking the dial to his usual rock station. 

And when she knows what

She wants from her time

Your head perks up and your eyes widen at the familiar Billy Joel song. Eddie throws you a grin over his shoulder before stepping back from the sink and wiping his hands off on a towel.

“Our song, baby,” he says, holding out his hand as he approaches where you’re sitting. “Boys, take over. Ryan wash, Luke dry.”

“I thought this was a Munson man chore,” Luke grumbles, which Ryan nudges his brother’s shoulder for.

“Shut up,” Ryan hisses under his breath.

Luke huffs and snatches the towel up from where Eddie tossed it on the counter. “What does that mean?” he asks his older brother. “That it’s ‘their song.’”

Ryan chuckles as he grabs a plate and holds it under the water. He looks over at the two of you and watches as Eddie practically yanks you out of the dining chair until your chest is pressed up against his. 

“It’s the song they smoochy-smooch to,” Ryan says.

Luke spins around to look at the pair of you as well, making kissy noises as he awaits a plate to dry.

“I’d start washing those dishes unless you want to see us start smoochy-smooching,” Eddie calls, never taking his eyes off of you. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him even closer.

“Maybe I wanna smooch now,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to fill your request. He leans in and just as his lips are about to brush up against yours, there’s a jarring knock on the front door. 

“I’ll get it!” Luke shouts, taking any opportunity he can to get away from the dishes.

“Good,” Eddie mumbles before stealing a kiss from you anyway. Just as you tilt your head up to continue the kiss, an irritating ahem sounds from behind you. 

Turning your head, you have to fight to keep the sneer off your face when you see who’s standing there.

“Mom’s here,” Luke calls to Ryan as he jogs back into the kitchen.

“Hello, Brittany,” you say, sidling up next to Eddie. You go to grab his hand in yours and he’s quick to give it a reassuring squeeze. Play nice for the sake of the boys, you tell yourself. Those seem to be the only semi-pleasant words that ever go through your head when she’s around. 

“Hi,” Brittany says, the words somehow sounding like a scoff. 

“Boys,” Eddie says, forgoing greeting his ex-wife altogether. “Go get your backpacks and the gifts you bought for Mom.”

The mention of gifts has a slight smirk appearing on the bitchy blonde’s face, and you can hardly say you’re surprised. As materialistic as she is, she’s probably more interested in seeing what she’s getting than seeing her own children. Eddie had already told you what the boys had picked out at the store and all you could hope was that Brittany was able to fake enough enthusiasm so as not to hurt the boys. 

Luke emerges from his room first. He puts his bag down on the table and picks up the keychain and jewelry holder that you had gotten from them. “Mom, look what we made!”

“Good job. Thank you.” She couldn’t sound less excited if she tried. But you don’t care because you know Luke is about to correct her.

“Oh. No, your gift is in my backpack. These aren’t for you.”

Brittany’s face hardens into steel, the forced smile looking more like a disfigured grimace than anything. Come on, look up at me, you think to yourself with a gleeful smile on your lips. Eddie tugs on your hand and you glance over to see him wearing a matching grin of satisfaction. 

Ryan comes in as Luke puts your gifts back on the table, and Brittany’s head finally lifts. You swear you can literally see her face turning red as she locks eyes with you. You raise an eyebrow slightly, as if saying, yeah, that’s right. Those are for me.

“Whatever,” she spits, ushering the boys out of the apartment. “Pick them up Tuesday night. Don’t be late.” 

Before she can slam the door behind her, Ryan and Luke call out to you, “Happy Mother’s Day!” You can see her entire body clench with anger.

As soon as she’s gone, Eddie lets out a huge exhale.

“You okay?” you ask, pressing your chest against his and resuming your position. You can feel his heart beating, and it’s immediately soothing.

Eddie nods slowly. “Yeah, she doesn’t really bother me anymore. ‘S just…” he pauses, searching for the right words, “...I hate not being with them, y’know? And I hate having to send them to their mom’s when they’re happier here. But what am I gonna do, tell her that she can’t have them on Mother’s Day?”

“You’re doing the right thing,” you murmur, rubbing his bicep comfortingly. “And once custody is figured out, I know you’ll be able to see them more. Those boys absolutely adore you.”

He tilts your chin upwards and kisses you, softly and gently. “They adore you, too,” he says with a small chuckle. “I had to convince them to buy stuff for Brittany and not you.”

Your jaw drops, making him laugh harder. “No way. You’re kidding, right?”

“‘M dead serious,” Eddie promises, making an X over his heart. “And speaking of gifts…I have one for you, and it’s in the bedroom.” He waggles his eyebrows, and you hook your finger into his belt loop as he leads the way.

You lay down on the bed as he climbs on top of you, trailing kisses down your body. “This–kiss–is for–kiss–being the absolute–kiss–fuckin’--kiss–best.” He sits up suddenly, taking in the gorgeous view before him. “I love you so damn much.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper against the soft plush of his lips.

“You know,” Eddie mumbles against your mouth, “I was thinking.”

“Uh oh,” you tease. In retaliation, Eddie lightly nips at your collarbone, making you giggle.

“Mhm. About your ass.” He gives it a little squeeze as you laugh harder. “Well, that, and how goddamn gorgeous you’d look having my baby.”

“You mean ��our’ baby?” you ask, arching an eyebrow. 

“Of course,” Eddie says. He starts to move down your body with kisses again. “Round belly making a home for them.” He pushes your shirt up to the underwire of your bra and places soft kisses around your belly button. 

“Not to mention my bigger boobs.”

“Oh don’t worry, I hadn’t forgot about those,” Eddie says, looking up at you with a smirk. “Shit, I can picture it so well.” His fingers fumble with the button on your jeans as his lips press gently against your skin. “But before that all happens, there’s something I’ve gotta do.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his hands as you watch them work.

Eddie presses one last kiss just above the waistline of your jeans before looking up at you through his enviably long eyelashes. “Fuck a baby into you.”

A whimper leaves your lips, both at his words and at the urgency in which Eddie is pulling your pants off with. Your panties aren’t far behind, but you reach up and tug on his shirt before he has time to undress you any further. Your hands begin to work on his belt, and Eddie lays one hand on your shoulder to keep himself balanced, and the other hand trails along your jaw. Slowly, he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You want me to make you a mommy, sweetheart? Want to spend next Mother’s Day with the little baby we made?” 

“Uh-huh,” you nod breathlessly, moaning when two of his thick fingers slide into your pussy. “M-Making me regret taking my pill this morning.”

Eddie laughs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he speaks. “S’okay, babe. We can just practice tonight, hm?”

You nod, unable to speak as you watch Eddie lower his head and attach his lips to your clit. With a breathy whine, your head drops back on the pillow as he gives a harsh suck to the sensitive nub.

“Fuck,” Eddie says once he finally releases it. “Never get used to how good your pussy tastes.” He gives you no time to respond before he dips down and licks at your leaking hole. One of your hands fists the sheets, while the other reaches down and grabs onto your boyfriend’s curls. “Feel good?” Eddie mumbles against your folds.

“So good, Eddie,” you moan. “Fucking love your mouth. B-But I want your cock.” 

“All you had to do was ask, my love.” He looks back down at your pussy and gives it a quick kiss. “I’ll be back for you later.”

You don’t have time to process the fact that he’s talking to your genitals before he’s pushing inside of you with a delicious stretch. “Fuuuuuck, Eddie,” you whine, adjusting to the fullness. “Feels s’good. Always feels s’good.” Your words slur together, already drunk on his cock. 

“Only the best for this tight, perfect pussy,” he growls. He brings his thumb back to your clit, making deliberate circles. “Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum. Gonna fuck it into you s’deep. Gonna knock up my princess, make her a mommy, holy shit!” He cries out when you move his hand from your swollen bud up to your neck, placing it around your throat. “Y’want me to choke you, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you manage, body trembling with pleasure as you feel the pressure from his grip. He’s rocking into you at an immeasurable pace, the ridge where the tip meets the shaft hitting all the right angles. “Keep g-going. ‘M gonna cum.”

Eddie throws his head back. “Good girl, good fucking girl. Cum on my cock, fuck, fuckin’ cream it. Make a mess on me, my good girl.”

One hand still gripping the green sheets below you, the other wraps around Eddie’s arm where he braces himself up against the mattress. Little moans and whimpers are slipping past your lips as Eddie brings you up to the brink. 

“I’m—fuck—I’m coming,” you say, hand tightening around Eddie’s arm as your pussy tightens around his cock. You hit your peak just as he does, an expression of ecstasy on his face. 

“Take it, fuckin’ take it, take all my cum. Want it dripping out of you.” You feel the hot, thick ropes coat your walls as he finishes inside you, leaving you both panting and speechless. 

The two of you lie there with each other for a few moments, letting your bodies relax and come down from their highs. Begrudgingly, Eddie pulls out and you both hiss at the loss. He’s quick to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom and clean the both of you off. As soon as he tosses it in the hamper, he’s climbing back into bed and pulling you up against him beneath the covers. You eagerly snuggle up against him and rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“So, how was that for a Mother’s Day present?” Eddie asks, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the bare skin of your back. 

“Perfect,” you respond with a lazy smile. “You Munson men spoil me.” 

“Cause we love you so damn much,” Eddie says as he presses a kiss into your hair. When you stay silent, Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion. When he feels your body start to tremble in his hold, he pulls back to look at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, you wipe the fallen tears from your cheeks. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…I wasn’t expecting any of this.”

“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, worry creeping into his voice. “Because I can talk to the—” 

“No,” you say kindly but firmly. “It’s just overwhelming. The food, the presents. Them wishing me a h-happy Mother’s Day. Eddie, I…” You’re unable to keep the tears from falling even as a joyful smile spreads across your lips. “I’ve never felt so loved before.” 

Eddie gazes at you with an adoring expression on his face. He gently tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your forehead. 

“Well, get used to it, baby,” Eddie says. “Because you have the hearts of all three Munson men and we’re all suckers for showing affection.”

Shifting yourself so your head rests next to Eddie’s on his pillow, you still can’t wipe the smile off your face. 

“They think of me as a mother figure.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve been there for them when their own mother hasn’t. Many, many times. Of course that’s how they see you. You’re everything a good mom should be, and they see that. They needed that in their lives. And then you come along; perfect, wonderful you. Who we all were missing, we just didn’t know it yet. But now that we have you, you’re stuck with us.”

You giggle as Eddie nuzzles his nose against yours. “I needed you guys, too. I always will.”

“I love you, my beautiful girl.”

“I love you, my handsome man.”

“Happy Mother’s Day, baby.”

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 51 | Part 52 | Part 53

“You wish,” Steve teases, then looks wide-eyed at Robin. “What about all the pictures we have?”

“We’ll take new ones,” she assures him, then grins. “And hey, maybe Starcourt will be built, without the Russian base underneath.”

Steve hums. “Maybe then I could avoid one of the concussions from Billy.”

Robin freezes suddenly. “Steve,” she says, “is it a good idea for the party to meet Max? Because of the first concussion from Billy? That wasn’t Upside Down related, was it?”

Steve grimaces. “He’d been Flayed at that point, yeah. Even if he is a racist asshole, I can’t imagine him coming after us like that again.”

Robin hums. “But if he does-”

“Tell me,” Eddie says suddenly, “does he like Mary Jane? Because I can make sure he never sees her again if he goes after Steve.”

Robin blinks at him, then begins to grin. “Sorry, Stevie, Eddie’s my new favorite.”

Eddie laughs and fist-bumps her. “Likewise, Birdie.”

“Hey!” Steve says, faux-affronted. It’s ruined by the grin he can’t hide.

El pokes gently at Steve’s arm, then the waffle iron when he looks at her. “It’s done.”

“Ah,” he says, opening it. “Thank you, Ellie. Mind getting me a plate?” He grins at her. “Without grabbing it?”

El grins. Without moving, she opens a cabinet, floats a plate out to Steve, then shuts the cabinet again. She wipes underneath her nose, then grins at Steve. “No blood!”

“That’s great!” He celebrates with her, offering her a high-five. “You think you’re ready?”

“I’m still scared,” she tells him. “But yes. I do.”

“Y’know something else?” Steve asks. “Vecna needed four more years to be strong enough to do what he did. You needed two more days. I think you’re much stronger than he is right now.”

“Speaking of the big bad,” Eddie interjects, nibbling on a corner of his waffle, “shouldn’t we go over the plan?”

Steve sighs. “Probably,” he agrees.

“I think we should wait for everyone,” Alli says. “Let’s just have as normal a morning as we can for right now.”

Steve smiles at his sister. “Sure, Al,” he says, then rolls his eyes when she pulls him into a hug and ruffles his hair.

“Love you, Bubba,” she murmurs into his ear, and he can’t help but to melt into her hug.

“Love you too, Al,” he murmurs back, then grins at her. “How about grilled cheese when we all make it outta this intact?”

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” she nods, then steps away. “I’m gonna call Cass. Come and get me when everyone’s here?”

“Will do,” he nods, and she smiles in response as she walks off.

Eddie pulls his feet up onto the counter he’s sitting on, looping his arms around his knees. “So, Cassidy is Alli’s-?”

“Girlfriend,” Steve nods. He takes another waffle out of the iron and scrapes the last of the batter into it. “It makes me wonder how I would’ve ended up, if I had her the entire time, y’know? Cause I know I was an asshole. And I’m trying not to be anymore.”

“You’re succeeding,” both Robin and Eddie say at the same time, then excitedly point at each other.

Steve laughs and shakes his head. “Thanks. But I wonder, if I’d had her the entire time, would I have ever gotten as bad as I did? Would I have ever worked at Scoops or Family Video and met you, Robin? Would any of his have ever happened in the first place?”

He only notices his hand is shaking when Robin gently takes his fork and puts it down, then grabs both his hands in hers. “Squeeze,” she requests, and he does, letting out a harsh breath and resting their foreheads together.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Shuddup,” Robin says. He laughs.

After a few seconds, he pulls away to look at her. “Am I being crazy?”

“I think you’re being exactly as sane as taking this mission in the first place makes either of us, Dingus, I don’t think either of us were all there in the first place.”

Steve giggles. “I think you may be right.”

“Maybe you would’ve been different,” Eddie says. He’s taking the last waffle out of the iron. “Maybe you wouldn’t have. Maybe all of this would’ve happened, and maybe it wouldn’t have. Maybes aren’t gonna change anything that’s currently happening. All we can do is our best to get through it.”

El slips between Steve and Robin and wraps her arms around Steve’s waist. “I can do things you can’t,” she says quietly. “But I can’t see the future. I don’t know what could’ve happened. But I know I’m glad that you’re here now.”

Steve sighs contentedly and wraps her in his arms. “Me too.”

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[neonovember]

Lemon meringues

steve rogers mafia!au

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

a/n: this is the first instalment of a series, I honestly don't know how long it will be, but ill try to update every week!

Your hand reaches to grab the disregarded ceramic mugs perched at the middle of the wooden table, deep mahogany coffee stains the edges of the porcelain mugs and the crumbs of David’s famous croissant litter the table.

“All done here?” You smile, your arm balancing a plate of waffles and toast, you hope to god that they’ll just leave you be, your shift has just begun and the way your back ached had you wishing you’d crawled back under the covers, angry landlord and manager be damned.

The faces of the men that sat nodded, eyes not leaving each other as if you weren't even there. Each of them had the same scruffy 7-day stubble as if they had all collectively chosen to throw out their razors. Trucker caps fitted tightly and flannel shirts peeked through large navy jackets buttoned tight against the harsh July cold. The weather here could get brutal, you’d learned that your first winter with frozen pipes and a heater that spoke only puffs of grey smoke.

They show no action of gratitude, but they don't unnecessarily incapacitate you either, exactly how you like it. Nodding you make your rounds to the other tables, wiping down any remnants of spilt drinks and crumbs from the diner tables and booths. It labourers work, but it's still work. And you don't know what would happen if you lost that measly laughable income you earned from waitressing.

As long as you were far and between from him, you kept reminding yourself, every chime of the diner door opening had your hairs bristling and your stomach in twists, he’d never find you here, he couldn’t, you’d made sure of it. Hell, you’d erased your entire life, left it all behind, he couldn't hurt you now. At least that's what you told yourself.

The white-hot fear still slips down your spine whenever you see a familiar shirt he’d wear though, or a voice that sounded like him when he was mad, or the sound of boots behind you, or- god you’d be in therapy if it didn’t cost you a limb.

The soft downpour outside provided a melodic track to your routine, the sea of blue and navy umbrellas moving in unison to escape the rain. The sound of it put you at ease, you've always loved the rain, the way it slid down your face and washed away all the fears you carried. The smell of the earth after it rained, steam rising from the dirt and roads was something you've come to appreciate.

It was the only things you could, the small things, things that had been taken from you, berated and crushed within his iron grip.

“Why are you wasting time smelling the flowers?”

His voice soon followed your every thought, every move, every desire. As if your mind was asking permission- “Please?”.

You forgot what it felt like to live within a body that was fully yours, and not pinned up with strings that were in his grasp. Now you could stop and raise your face to the sky and let the droplets pepper your skin without fearing the downpour of his anger.

“You silly girl, you silly stupid girl” 

Well, at least the one that isn't in your head.

The snap of diner door opens abruptly, slamming against the wall, as an umbrella pops through, your neck bristles with fear, shoulders tense and eyebrows furrowed.

Please no

It's a man, donning a deep maroon velvet coat, the buttons fitted and the material stretched against his chest. His golden locs were smoothed back, a scruff that seemed purposeful lining his jaw, the water from his umbrella runs down its rooves and ridges, gathering at his feet and seeping into the laminate floor. It doesn't matter, it isn’t him.

You quickly dust off your apron, gathering your rags before popping them under the compartment behind the till, the man is perusing through the collection of pastries and breakfast sandwiches displayed in the clear case.

“The lemon meringue is to die for,” You say, smiling at his indecision, You had many like him come in, overwhelmed with the many selections and flavours, not knowing where to begin.

He looks up quickly, eyes racking over your face, his cerulean blues darken for a moment, before a smile cracks over his features.

“That obvious?” He jokes, hands tucked into the pocket of his coat.

“Don’t worry about it, everybody has a first time at something” You reply, fingers wringing as you smile. His gorgeous up close, the kind of features that were clean-cut and old-fashioned. Like he didn't need to try so hard to capture anyone's attention, soft lips curl up as he notices your intense stare, and you quickly shake off your borderline stalker-ish ways.

“Well, in that case, I’ll get the meringue and a club special,” He says, hands coming up to brush through his golden locks dirtied by the rain. 

You ring his order through the till, fingers almost missing the keys as you hurry to have him seated, he always hated being waited on, there were countless times when his lack of patience and your tardiness left you bruised and bloody.

The man reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a deep leather wallet, it reminds you of your father and it has you smiling softly. He hands you a hundred-dollar bill, and when you try to hand back his change he stops you with his hands quickly. 

The feeling of the rough pads of his fingers shoots an intensity up your arm like you've been shocked and you pull your hand away quickly. The man stares intently at your hands, eyes surveying your frame as he rests them on your face.

“Keep the change..I’m sure” He finally says, hands back in his pocket only this time in tight fists.

You thank him generously, tucking the rolls into your side, tips never seemed to cover enough of your pay, and you think this man may have saved you from sleeping outside.

He doesn't say much, just nods, the same darkened look covering his features as he slides into a corner booth, the downpour above sheathed the morning sky in a deep dark navy. Causing the diner to be cloaked in a shadowed darkness as if it were evening instead of noon. The only thing providing light was the soft yellow overhanging ceiling lamp. It gave it a romantic feel that covered his features in a soft glow, and for some strange reason, you had the urge to know what his beard would feel like between your fingers.

Walking urgently back to the counter, you hand up the man's order for David, indiscretidely asking him to give him extra helpings. You carefully slice a cut of the meringue onto one of the ceramic plates, cleaning the edges and keeping it chilled.

David calls your name, motioning towards the finished sandwich that looked like if you didn't walk carefully it would topple over and onto the floor.

David winks at you, his jet-black hair pulled into a tight bun, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling as he takes notice of your ulterior motive.

“When were ya gonna tell me about lover boy?” David teases, chin resting on his arms.

“Cmon David, he just gave me a good tip” You scoff humourselly, him? He wouldn't even look at you that way. You knew his type the moment you caught a glimpse of his goddamn cufflinks, besides, the rings adorning his fingers etched with the unmistakable A, told you he was in a business you wanted no part of. You weren't bout to jump into a relationship after just escaping your last, no, you definitely were not ready for that.

Yet a strange filling crept through your stomach, and it had you taking glances at his crouched figure in the booth, he was tall enough to the point where you could see the tussles of his golden locks, now dried and mused.

Snapping out of your stupor, you go to reach for his meal before another hand reaches for it, what is it today and people's hands? Chipped red nail polish and rubbery lips meet your gaze as Caroline smiles up at you.

“Mare’s asking if you could clean up the puddle in front of the diner door, says it’s quote on quote a cleaning hazard” Caroline rolls her eyes, tongue clicking as she shakes her head

“If she cared that much about following protocol she’d pay us a goddamn living wage” Caroline mutters loud enough for yout o hear, cautious of your domineering manager's watchful gaze.

You snicker, reaching for the mop at the corner of the diner, 

“Who that?” Caroline says, motioning towards the golden-haired man with her chin, curiosity filling her eyes.

“That, is your customer, who just ordered a meringue and sandwich because of yours truly” You reply, eyes finding their way back to him.

Caroline nods, reaching for the meringue in the fridge,

“He even tipped me like over eighty bucks” You whisper, the reality of it still shocking you

Caroline swiftly turns to you at that, her dark auburn plaits whipping across her chest at her movements

“No shit? Cute and a gentleman, if there is one person in this god-forsaken place who deserves it it’s you” Caroline retorts, a smile lifting her lips.

You shake your head, reaching for the notes tucked in your pocket, Caroline had been your one and only friend besides David, you could count a handful of time’s when she had let you crash at her place or borrow money to tide your landlord over the next month. 

It was your duty to give something back.

Caroline stops you gently, pushing the notes into your pocket before she grins gingerly

“Don’t you dare” Caroline begins, eyes darting across to the man in the booth,

“But, you can't possibly expect me not to pay you back” You begin, eyes burrowing as you try again, to hand her over a chunk of the money.

“You need it more than I do, besides you know the saying “reject the present to receive more in the future” Caroline sing songs, you shake your head laughing

“I don't think that’s quite how it goes, in fact, I'm pretty sure you made that up on the spot” You giggle, before pushing her out of the kitchen.

“You're too good for this rotten place sugar, you outta start taking things for yourself, before the world comes and swallows you whole” She replies, not sparing you a glance before navigating through the many red booths.

Her voice echoes in your mind as you clean up the murky water near the front door, watching as the brown liquid on against the laminated floor turns into a clean yellow that came with age and poor maintenance.

You serve half a dozen more customers before Caroline strolls towards you, a hidden smirk on her face with the man’s finished plates.

“What?” You reply, rolling your eyes, wiping down the counter, you always seemed to find yourself cleaning.

“Golden boy asked for you” She’s gone into a full toothy smile now, head lulling to the side as she teases you.

He asked for you? Why would he do that? Maybe he were asking for that tip back, reconciling that you weren't worth it. It wouldn’t be the first time

“Huh? What do you mean?” You cautiously answer Adi, aware of her ability to dramatise quite literally everything that happened between these walls.

“I mean, he asked why you didn’t come and give him his food. Said he was hoping that he could ask you something” She replies eyebrows wiggling playfully, knocking her hips to yours as she purred.

“I see how you play girl, just make him a regular customer why don’t you, I'm sure after the first taste he'll be coming back for more.” She laughed at you widened expression, you winced at her insinuations, you started to believe she wanted you to get laid more than you did yourself.

“Here, he left this” She replied, reaching into her pocket, and pulling out a ruffled tissue, you're expecting a message or a scribble of numbers, yet instead what meets your eye has your heart in your stomach and your fingers gripping your apron.

There written in black ink, is your husband's name, along with a number and one single word.

“I know what you did”.

Fuck.

[solarmorrigan]

Steddie and #12 on the prompt list pleaseeeee 😭

Hello! Thank you for the prompt, I had fun writing this one!

Prompt from this list: 12. Things you said when you thought I was asleep

-

When Eddie wakes, he’s comfortable and warm. These are the second and third best qualities of Steve Harrington’s bed. The best quality of Steve Harrington’s bed, however, appears to be missing.

Eddie rolls over, checking the spot beside him, and finds that, yes, it’s definitely missing. Steve is not there.

If he listens, though, he can hear signs of life coming from downstairs, echoing through the quiet house. The rush of a sink running, the clatter of dishes, the soft murmur of a radio – sounds like Steve is making breakfast.

Eddie sighs and slithers reluctantly out from under the covers, hunting for his t-shirt on the floor, where he’d tossed it last night before getting into bed.

It’s not– it’s not like that, of course, between him and Steve. The shirt had gone, but the boxers and sweatpants had definitely stayed. They share the bed in an entirely platonic manner, just as a way to deal with nightmares and trauma and that sort of fun shit. But sleeping next to Steve is like sleeping with a furnace, and he’s said he doesn’t mind if Eddie loses his shirt; he doesn’t wear one himself half the time.

God, Eddie wishes this could be as gay as it sounds.

He’s not gonna knock what he does have, though. He’s not. Whatever his relationship is with Steve, it’s special, and Eddie’s not going to let his dick (or worse, his feelings) ruin it.

Quietly, he slips out of Steve’s room (the hinges on the door don’t creak. The floor barely creaks. Steve’s house is spooky as shit sometimes, silent and airless; Eddie gets why he doesn’t like being there alone) and heads down towards the kitchen.

Whatever’s playing on the radio becomes clearer as Eddie approaches, and he can hear Elton John singing about sitting on a roof and kicking off the moss. Even closer, Eddie can hear Steve singing along.

There’s already a smile forming on Eddie’s face when he gets to the door, and that’s before he’s treated to the sight of Steve standing in front of a waffle iron, bopping to the gentle beat of “Your Song.”

“Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean,” Steve murmurs, distracted as he cracks the waffle iron open and tilts his head to take a look inside, “Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen…”

Eddie might melt a little bit. That’s his own business.

“Okay, no, this is pathetic,” Steve says, startling Eddie as he breaks from the lyrics. “I mean, this is really sad.”

For one heart-stopping moment, Eddie thinks Steve is speaking to him, but Steve never looks up, instead using a fork to pop the waffle out of the maker and add it to the nearby stack.

“I hate making waffles. Waffles are a pain in the ass,” Steve mutters, contradicting himself entirely by grabbing the bowl of batter and pouring more into the iron. “But Eddie likes waffles and now I’m up at too early in the goddamn morning making waffles.”

Eddie jolts again to hear his name, but Steve still hasn’t seen him in the doorway (or maybe skulking sort of at the edge of the doorway – not eavesdropping! Just… satiating his curiosity). He’s noticed Steve’s tendency to talk to himself when he thinks no one else is listening, but it’s usually just little reminders, or running commentary on what he’s doing.

This – this is interesting.

“Of course I’m making him waffles, what else am I going to do? Not make him waffles? Not let him in and not let him sleep in my bed and not… really like it? Stupid.” Whatever Steve says next is drowned out by the sound of the faucet as he fills the empty batter bowl with water and leaves it to soak, but when he shuts the water off Eddie manages to tune back in. “…because I’m an asshole who can’t just tell him that I think he’s smart and fun to be around and really hot and that I really like him. No, he’s gonna come downstairs and say good morning and I’m just gonna say– holy shit.”

Now Steve’s spotted Eddie.

They’re both frozen in place, and all Eddie can really think to do is give a little wave and say, “Good morning.”

Steve continues staring at him. “I… thought you were asleep. Still.”

“I am not,” Eddie says, and then immediately wishes he’d said literally almost anything else and avoided sounding like an idiot.

“I can see that,” Steve replies, slightly strangled.

There’s another frozen beat of silence.

“I think the waffle is burning,” Eddie says, glad for the momentary distraction as Steve swears and rushes to save their breakfast.

While Steve is wrestling with the waffles, Eddie decides that some kind of action is warranted. You don’t just hear the guy you’ve been crushing on admit that he thinks you’re smart and fun and hot every day.

Eddie enters the kitchen.

“Not burned,” Steve announces, flipping the waffle onto the plate, “just crispy.”

“Crispy is fine,” Eddie says, approaching the counter where Steve has been cooking. “Anything is fine. Waffles in general are great, I like… waffles.” Stop talking about waffles, holy shit. “I like you.”

That is not better.

In spite of the level of awkward Eddie is currently rocking, Steve turns to look up at him with a small smile ticking at the corners of his lips, uncertain hope behind his eyes.

“Yeah?”

Eddie nearly has him cornered against the counter now, close enough to reach out and touch. “Yeah.”

“More or less than waffles?” Steve asks.

“Tough call,” Eddie murmurs, raising a hand to rest on Steve’s shoulder, sliding it over to brush at the crook of his neck, the side of his throat, the edge of his jaw. “Lemme think.”

It’s at that point that Steve closes a fist in the front of Eddie’s shirt, drags him across the minute distance between them, and leans up to press his lips to Eddie’s.

After that, Eddie finds he can’t think about much of anything at all.

(He doesn’t have to, though. He’s pretty sure the way he leans heavily into Steve’s space, the way his hands curl around Steve’s hips and the way his mouth slides eagerly against Steve’s own lets him know where he ranks in relation to waffles.)

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here~

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.2<< >>Ch.4

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is a leader. A leader who doesn't let anyone or anything distract him from the tasks at hand.

He's focused, unwavering, and ruthless.

But what happens when he abruptly pulls away from his territory and wanders into an unknown playing field he hasn't faced in forever?

Many say love holds no bounds, but how much will he be willing to break for you?

Chapter 3: That This Problem Lies in Me

Word count: 1.3K

Miguel awoke to an unpleasant thump in his brain. It wasn't intrusive, just inconvenient.

His eyes flickered, pupils constricted as a streak of gold marginally reached under his eyelids, rapidly removing his vision from catching any sort of light. Browsing his surroundings, he immediately recognized a major dilemma.

He had zero idea where the hell he was.

He struggled to recap the events from the previous night, but his memories were foggy.

He haphazardly slung his body upwards, a bunch of half-dried towels flying off his body onto a bedspread that he certainly knew didn't belong to him, the wooden floor, and a fluffy rug.

The room was abundantly cozy, yet relatively cramped due to its size. A bookshelf, computer desk, and dresser drawer were covered in knickknacks. There was enough space for one person.

But Miguel wasn't that person.

His head spun when he heard airy footsteps and something being opened and closed right outside the door that was separating him from whatever was out there.

Shifting his body until his feet were on the floor, he cautiously stood up, creeping towards the wooden object and placing his ear on it.

Silence until more slight footsteps crossed the ground, echoes of seemingly drawers or cabinets carefully shut. Whatever or whoever was out there clearly doesn't wish to be caught.

Miguel grasped the doorknob, calmly twisting it before hastily hurling it open.

You leapt, alarmed at the sudden, violent entrance. There he stood, exhibiting his full height, deadpan. You gulped harshly as you both remained glued to your respective spots.

Just like the park.

“Uh, good morning. How are, um, how are you this morning?”

Miguel skimmed over you and the surrounding area. Just like the bedroom, it resembled that snug yet cramped atmosphere.

“Where am I?” He crossed his arms over his chest, his watchful eye refraining to drop from you.

You dumped waffle mix and other ingredients in a silver bowl, biting your inner cheek.

“You're in my apartment. You nearly passed out in an alleyway until I basically dragged you here. You are one heavy guy, but I'm sure you’re highly aware of that.”

You chuckled, but promptly ceased when his stony aura lingered in the stagnant air. Sounds of butter sizzled on the waffle iron as you poured some now-beaten batter into it.

You didn't know how to exactly spark a casual chat with a stranger who happened to spend the night in your bed after indulging in whatever was affecting him.

Miguel's brain whirled with an abundance of questions. Why was he brought here? Why were you so mellow in this situation? Well, as mellow as you strained to maintain. What exactly did happen? Were you earnestly not anxious about his presence domineering over you?

Why did you help him?

“Do you like cinnamon? I was planning on adding some to the next mix, but if you don't, these are plain.”

You tried to wrangle any conversation from him to avert any more awkwardness as you scratched the back of your leg with your foot.

From head to toe, you were stiff.

“That's fine.” His voice was harsh, but he endeavored to get a handle on it.

You beamed as you mixed the spice with brown sugar. “I'm glad you're willing to eat. Last night, you gave me a huge fright, but I believe I squashed a good chunk of what was in you. Oh, do you need any pain medication? I don't know if that'll help, but it shou-”

“Why?” Miguel cut you off.

“Why what?”

“Why did you... why are you not afraid?”

You tore away from the waffle iron, your eyebrows furrowed in pure confusion.

“Afraid? What is there for me to be scared of?”

Miguel gestured to his sharpened claws, his eyes, and his fangs. Him in general.

You blink a few times before plating the rest of the cooked, fluffy, sweet bread. “Not proving your case.” You giggled and made a serving for him.

“You saw what I'm capable of. The brick wall, when I bit and injected my venom into that woman, tha-”

“That you used to protect me.”

“That you thought I killed her with.”

Sitting the syrup-covered breakfast on your round dining table, beckoning him to relax as he dubiously sits across from you.

“Yes, and I'm sorry for assuming that. Then you told me it was temporary and non-lethal. You didn't intend on fully hurting her, just enough to stop her in her tracks to prevent actual permanent and lethal damage.”

You munch on a giant part of one of your waffles.

“So once again, not proving your point.” A sincere smile formed on your face.

Miguel perched over, stunned. You didn't appear intimidated or turned away by his presence. It disoriented him in a way. Why didn't you view him in a negative light after all that concurred last night?

“Yes, but I still tried to just dump the body at the police station and walk. And then I attempted to frighten you away. What type of hero does that?”

“You were frazzled. You had unwanted drugs taking over from what you mumbled last night, and I didn't mind telling the police what happened.”

You took another bite, but a smaller piece this time.

“And I figured out what you were attempting, but I'm not allowing anyone to suffer by themselves, especially if they helped me. You were in pain and agony. And even if you didn't do anything for me, I would still help in any sort of capacity. And on top of that, it was on my own accord.”

You casually spoke, shrugging your shoulders, and planted your elbows on the table. Miguel once again hunched over in silence.

“So yes, you are still a hero. You made a few wrong calls, but it happens. We have our flaws; I certainly know I do; it's just how we go about them. We're humans; we make mistakes, but the intention is what shows. And guess what? Your good intentions are there. And from what I've witnessed, they surely do shine.”

You gave him another kind smile and stood up, offering him some juice. Miguel was muddled. He's expected to be a constant excelling leader, not just from the society and the citizens themselves, but from him as well.

Mistakes are made. They can be created, and when they are, they need to be attained and fixed. He's not allowed to have any slip-ups.

They can be easily created… but can they truly be mended? His purpose behind what he does is for the best. Yet hearing that it's fine for him to make mistakes spoken out loud…

Miguel shook his head, refusing to have his judgments and objectives sink into some provoking abyss.

If you weren't panicked by his appearance, then he can linger for a while longer and then return to his life as if you two never crossed paths.

“I'll take you on that offer for pain pills and coffee.”

You gradually shut the fridge as a nervous titter escaped.

“Righhht… coffee.” You pulled your phone out and pressed it a few times.

‘Do you not have any?” Miguel raised a brow, taking a few pieces from his perfectly cut waffles.

“I haven't been able to buy any for the past week. But I'll order you one, so you're gonna be trapped here until it gets here.” You teasingly stuck your tongue out, gaining a playful eye roll from him.

“That'll be fine by me. I'm getting a free drink from it.”

“Perfect! So how do you like yours?” You gleefully rush back over and place the phone near him, leaning in, interested in his choice. 

A one-and-done ordeal. Neither one is truly obligated to advance any further. He'll thank you for your help, express his extensive gratitude, and go from there. 

That's it. The lone, flickering candle he's retaining will remain that way.

Blunders happen. From the insignificant to the monstrous. It's a part of nature. 

Until it takes effect. 

They didn't deliberately aim to burn the candle flame any brighter. It was a mere accident.

[pikaglove]

Now that I have beaten Baulder's Gate 3, here is a list of headcanons I made up about my character and her life (also includes some in game canon events)

Sylvia

• Half wood elf

• Druid (circle of the lands)

• Folk hero

• Cis female

• Bisexual

• Early-mid 30s

• Lover: Gale (married)

• Adopted two kids after the events of bg3 (arabella and Yenna)

• Absolute freak in the sheets

• Has demon fetish

• Canonically forgets her quests (people have died because of this)

• Lived in Baulder's Gate when she was a young girl and was going to be married off to a noble drow but got in a fight that made her "unfit for marriage" and had to be shipped away due to being an embarrassment to the family.

• Lived as a hippie in her young adulthood with other druids.

• Went around saving small towns from bandits.

• Normally peaceful but gets really hotheaded when she sees injustice

• Has gone days without eating much (Gale has had to make her eat a proper meal instead of just a few berries)

• Had a fling with Lae'zel, thought it was mid.

• Did have a pixie friend when she traveled with the other druids

• Not good friends with Astarion because she wishes he would be a better person (she was really proud when he didn't ascend)

• Shadowheart is her bff

• Loves cats

• Prefers cooler weather

• Will fight Mystra at a waffle house

• Loves raunchy ballads about herself

• Has Heterochromia (left: blue. Right: green)

• Got a flower tattoo on her neck once she left Baulder's Gate

• Got facial scars from charging up too much lightning to take down a group of harpies. (She won of course)

• Down with Bukake (Gale gets her so well)

• Half illithid (cured)

• Has blanked out when Gale goes on tangents but she's happy to let him ramble

• Canonically told Gortash to fuck off

• Disappointment to parents (canon by auntie ethiel)

• Astarion, Jaheira, and Karlach judged her for fucking the emperor

• Canonically sacrificed herself to save everyone in the iron throne along with Astarion (character growth for astarion)

• Halsin is her father figure now after he found out her dad is shit

• Canonically cucked Gale 3 times (The emperor, the drow twins, and Haarlep)

• Whenever Haarlep is using her body and she is in puplic, she and Gale absolutely go off somewhere to fuck.

• Date nights with Gale include star gazing

• Is the reason why Gale learned more ice spells (He wanted to impress her)

• Taught Gale animal handling.

• Steals books for Gale while on adventures

• Canonically goes on adventures with Gale

• Uses vines to bind Gale's wrists so she can give him the sloppy toppy without him returning the favor. (All consentual)

• Taught Arabella druid magic

• Yenna and Gale cook while in waterdeep

• Tara and Sylvia have helped Grub come out of his shell more.

• Has a good relationship with Mrs. Dekarios

• Won the heart of Tara after growing her some catnip.

• Has gotten into cheese arguments with Gale, whenever Elminster comes to visit.

• People sometimes think Yenna is her biological daughter due to similar hair and eye color.

• Father is human, mother is a wood elf

• Has a younger brother

• Her bi awakening was when she was a teen and had a crush on a tiefling classmate

• Let's Shadowheart stay at their tower when she visits waterdeep to be at the Selunite temple.

• Once got attacked by Shaarans when Shadowheart was visiting.

• Has nightmares of turning into a mind flayer due to taking that parasite

• Years after all events and our heros have passed, the wizard tower of waterdeep becomes overgrown with vines.

[mysimsloveaffair]

The scent of waffles and bacon guides me to the kitchen when I wake up the following day. Downstairs, I find Maia there, standing next to the waffle iron.

Wade: How are you feeling?

Maia: Okay, but I’d feel much better once this nausea disappears.

I wish there was something I could do to help. But I can only offer a ‘feel better’ kiss on the cheek. Luckily, the nausea subsides long enough for her to enjoy her breakfast.

(Full post available to read on my website)

[azrielgreen]

The Way It Shouldn't Be - Part Three

It goes like that for a while.

It's different now.

Steve doesn't let himself examine it, so rarely does with Eddie because everything is confusing and yet really fucking obvious too.

Obvious that he likes him.

For more than just sex.

Which really is unexpected.

Because they have nothing in common, or they shouldn't. Their tastes are wildly different, everything about them runs in stark contrast.

But that first night Steve throws his thigh around Eddie's own, traps him with sweaty skin and aching muscles, and he whispers, 'Stay?'... that changes things.

Because Eddie does.

Yeah, he looks at Steve with a degree of wariness that borders on suspicion, sure he scowls when Steve delights in keeping him for the night. But he does actually stay.

And the next day it's Sunday and Steve is greedy for him. Demands he try the coffee machine and the waffle iron, help Steve make mess for the cleaner when she arrives later.

'Why?'

'Because you're messy, Munson. And I like mess.'

Eddie glares softly. He's still all beat up from those fuckers, he's still bruised.

'You're hardly squeaky clean,' he grouses, but he hangs out. Cooks, makes coffee, smokes with Steve outside and they cautiously spend time together that's not frantic fucking or the cleaning of wounds.

Eddie doesn't relax for a few hours.

But then he does.

And when Steve drapes himself over him, when Steve straddles him with slutty grace, Eddie exhales shakily and puts his hands on Steve's hips.

They kiss.

They make out.

Then they order pizza.

And it goes on like this for a while.

Until prom.

*

Stupid fucking bullshit, Steve is already so grossly over it. He wants to leave this town, he wants to take his car, pack a bag and go other places.

The thought of popularity and comfort keeping him here like a lure makes him vaguely sick.

Eddie's got his hand around Steve's throat, his cock buried deep inside him and he's pounding him for all he's worth. It's brutal and painful and it's usually enough for Steve to forget his own name, along with everything else. They're in the back of his car, parked up right at the back of the school lot and anyone could come along.

Steve really cannot deny anymore how much he wishes someone would come along. Discover them, see them, tell everyone in the fucking world because then...

Then he'd have a reason to leave.

To drive, see new places.

And maybe, grotesque though it is to even think it, if Eddie was discovered too, he'd want to go with him.

They could run away together.

Eddie smacks him across the face.

'You're not here with me.'

The pain blossoms, it hits Steve's bloodstream like a drug, makes him moan and gasp as his cheek fills with blood and sharp, exquisite agony.

'S-sorry.'

Eddie grunts, shifts.

'You wanna stop?'

Steve hides in the curve of his neck, trying to catch his breath. Eddie stills.

'Just. Pause?'

Eddie chuckles, wraps his arms around Steve's bare back and makes swirls with the tips of his fingers. 'You're not subtle, Harrington.'

Steve smiles against his damp skin. 'Don't know what you mean.'

'Uh huh. Brat.'

Eddie kisses his throat and thrusts teasingly, nudging against the place that makes Steve see stars. It's big and it's deep and they take turns with this, they switch often now ever since the first time Eddie fucked Steve on the kitchen floor, held his wrists and took his virginity.

They try new things each time, confidence growing. Steve loves when Eddie smacks his cheeks, especially when he has to go back to class and Eddie likes when Steve leaves deep, love bruises in his skin, framed by teeth marks but he always pretends to beg Steve not to.

'Not where people will see,' he'll beg, cock throbbing, nipples red and abused and swollen. 'Everyone’ll see and know what a slut I am for you.'

And Steve will laugh open mouthed and breathless, he'll cover him in them, he'll mark him up and abuse every inch of flesh he can feast on and them afterwards, Eddie will press on them when he thinks Steve doesn't notice.

So Eddie knows Steve wants to get caught.

He knows it.

But he maybe doesn't want it like Steve does.

'Can I come see you play tonight?'

'You and the three other barflies? We might need a bigger venue.'

'I'll bring people.'

'You dare.'

'Can I come or what?'

Eddie gets hold of his face, makes him look. Dark eyes search Steve's own, intent and serious.

'Why?'

It's his go-to question with Steve. He wants to know the reasons, always.

Steve is increasingly honest.

'I wanna see you.'

'You always see me.'

Pretty much every day.

Steve tries to look away but Eddie won't let him.

Then Eddie sighs, seems to have found what he was looking for and is disappointed. That... hurts.

'I'm not your boyfriend.'

And see, months ago, back when this was all just sex and the vague thrill of secrecy, Steve would have laughed in his face, smacked his cheek and said, 'Thank the neglectful god,' or something equally derisive.

But now.

Things aren't the way the world tells them it ought to be.

So Steve leans back, expression slipping into a thunderous sulk and he demands, 'Why not?'

Eddie stares. 'Are you fucking serious?'

'Am I not good enough to be your boyfriend, is that it?'

'Oh my god, get off of me.'

He tries to move Steve away, but cramped and contorted like this, Steve has all the control. He pushes Eddie back down into place and starts working himself up and down the length of the man inside him.

'Tell me why I'm not good enough to be your boyfriend, Munson.'

He bounces, he stretches and squeezes, thighs burning with the ache of such effort and he knows lunch ended a while ago, they're both missing. Anyone could come along looking for them.

Eddie groans, hand fisting in Steve's hair right at the back, yanking cruelly and it makes Steve moan like a whore, makes him work himself harder up and down, back and forth, grinding.

'Don't be a little bitch, you know what I mean.'

Steve sneers, squeezes so hard Eddie makes a pained sound, eyes darkening.

'Why. Not?'

'God, you're such a fucking brat. You have no idea how the real world works, do you? Living in a bubble and you want me to burst it, huh? You're so dumb.'

'Fuck you, you backwater trailer trash.'

Eddie slaps him and then he kisses him and then he fists Steve's cock, hard and painful and perfect.

And into his mouth he whispers, 'It can't be me, Stevie.'

And that hurts more than anything else.

It hurts the bad way.

It makes Steve sob for real.

'Want it to be you. Want you.'

'It can't be. That's not how--oh fuck, god--how this works, baby boy.'

Steve kisses Eddie like it'll make it untrue, like it'll break the spell of dull-ass grey skied Hawkins.

'Only want you.'

'Stop it.'

'All the time.'

'Steve.'

'I love you, Eddie.'

Eddie comes inside him and Steve's orgasm blindsides him, knocks him for six better than any hand across his face.

Kissing, licking, whispering things and all of them burn like a delicate glowing copper wire pressed into living flesh.

And when it slows, Steve kisses Eddie for real. Kisses him like he loves him... which, oh god, he does.

Fucking hell.

Eddie won't look at him.

The car will need a clean.

Steve takes a deep breath. 'Eddie, I'm so sor--'

But he cuts off when someone knocks on the window of the car.

*

Continued next Saturday.

💜💜💜

[pixelglam]

I’m SO excited for the upcoming stuff and expansion packs! I love the little waffle iron we’re getting, I have one just like it 🥹

Also for the ep I’m really wishing for an urban world with townhouses and apartments. Maybe even a more realistic real estate system (that won’t be too buggy). It seems very possible judging by the key in the ‘teaser’.

[birdmitosis]

Keep seeing your analysis-ish posts in the tags and man. I wish I could make coherent posts about this game like that but whenever I try it just comes out like this

misery

also I see you are a voices enjoyer so I am obligated to ask what you think about voice of the contrarian bc he is my fav (he just like me fr we are best friends we are going to go get waffles together)

Aaahhhh, ironically my brain has been MUSH and so I didn't respond to this right away, but it's been giving me fuzzy feelings for days ;-; It is so kind of you to say... My analysis stuff is mostly me rambling and trying to sort out my own thoughts, LOL, so I'm glad it's at all coherent! I constantly feel like I'm in a state of

over this game, at least, so I get it. As for Voice of the Contrarian, I absolutely adore that voice! He's not my top fave but he's easily in my Top 3. I love him so much in The Stranger chapter and especially if you get her first and get any variation of the "Strange Beginnings" endings; I love his development and the quietly positive relationship he develops with Voice of the Hero, with the Stranger, and even in some ways with the Narrator. I love the way he tries to defend the Long Quiet in the "A new and unending dawn, and everyone hates you" endings! I love him in The Razor and The Moment of Clarity paths, I adore him in The Fury chapter... The only chapter he even mildly annoys me in is The Wild, and I think that's just because my first experience with that was the one with Opportunist and Paranoid and there was something so... emotional in that experience, and Contrarian really doesn't want to let you just sit with that emotion. That's not really a bad thing, though, not inherently, and it also says a lot about his character at that point in the game! (Honestly, my one quibble with the game is that since he says in the "Strange Beginnings" version of the endings that he's been at the cabin since you left him there, I honestly wish it became impossible to get any route he appears in if you get the Stranger first. That might be annoying and even a little unfair; I'm sure that in practice I wouldn't like being entirely locked out of The Razor and The Moment of Clarity if I went with The Stranger for my first vessel. But it'd make that part make a bit more sense, right? Then again, if you say to Hero "I thought you died whenever I looked in the mirror," he says:

"I don't think that's wrong, but I'm not sure it's right either. ... There's still a piece of me nestled close to where it all began. I can take you there... I can take you to her heart." Which I... think might imply that while the voices are all broken-off shards of you, they're also in pieces across each chapter you do? Which has some fascinating implications and does make Contrarian's thing work better. He is also still "where it all began," where Hero takes you.) ANYWAY that was some rambling about non-Contrarian things, or at least not strictly Contrarian things. Suffice to say that I really, really love that character; I think that in a situation where the other voices are learning to be individual people especially he could be really supportive and helpful there, because he has possibly the biggest personal arc of any character in the entire game. And I love that for him. (I also ship him hard with Voice of the Hero, and have a bunch of other more minor ships with him, including Contrarian/Hero/Narrator a little? SO YEAH THAT TOO.)

[exvangelical-christian-nerd]

Some thoughts on "Hell is Forever"

TW religion, conservative Christianity

Hell is Forever is a bop. Musically I enjoy it a lot. And It's definitley one I'll go listen to separatelyfrom the others on occasion.

But

It is also probably the song that bothers me the most. And it does not bother me in a way I like. I've talked about before, how I like things that poke at my beliefs and make me ask questions. This one doesn't do that. This song is like a buzzing fly to my inner-theologian, and I think I figured out why (Ironically it might also be one of the reasons I enjoy it)

So I've been working on some of my series type content lately, including my devos. I'm trying to make a series based on the Hazbin songs (if that is something you're interested in let me know in the comments and I will try to tag you when I start posting them). Naturally this includes Hell is Forever.

The thing about Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss is that by their very nature they include some theology, but a good portion of it is hellaverse-ified. Some of it is theology and some Christian lore. It's part of the draw. Here's the diffrence between Hell is Forever, and most of the rest of it: Hell is Forever addresses real Theology, more or less directly. I'd say more than, possibly, any other part of either show so far.

Now before I go any farther let's make sure we all have the same definitions so my meaning doesn't get mixed up.

Real Theology= Theology actually believed by a fair portion of people.

Good Theology= Theology that is grounded and has biblical backing.

Bad Theology= Opposite of Good Theology

So yes, Hell is Forever has Real Theology. Here's the thing that gets me though: I wouldn't consider most of it Good Theology. In fact I would consider most of it Bad Theology.

Now the thing with Theology is that our interpretation of it is flawed. We don't know a lot and we don't agree on a lot. That's why there are tens of thousands of denominations. But the particular brand we get in this song is what I'm going to call "Bible Thumper Theology." Not all Bible Thumper Theology is necessarily Bad Theology, but plenty of it is. But honestly I have three major issues with Bible Thumper Theology. First is that it's weaponized. Whether your Theology is good or bad, using it as a weapon is risky business. Second, it's often pretty weak. Even if the theological concept is solid, their understanding of it is usually surface level at best. And third, so much of it is just cherry picking.

So here are the main theological points I identified in Hell is Forever. I'm not going to go deep into them now, because that would make this already long post way to long, and because I'm already planning on making posts specifically on them.

Hell is forever (Obviously)

Eye for an eye Theology (I don't know what else to call it)

Justification by the law (or works)

Justified k1ll1ng (which is obviously super yikes)

Now there are few others in there too, but I'd say these are the main ones. As I said I'm plannin to address these more later, though the first one, I'm still waffling on whether I want to tackle that or not. The primary reason being that I do believe eternal damnation is eternal (as much as I wish I didn't), however I am not going to join the fire and brimstone brigade. There are too many of them all ready. If I do tackle it, it will probably be about why I take issue with the fire and brimstone brigade.

But yes all that to say, Hell is Forever bothers me because it's essentially just Bible Thumper Theology, and Bible Thumper Theology annoys me because it's what makes the church as a whole look bad, and usually it is pretty Bad Theology.

Honestly most of the time someone starts spewing this kind of stuff at me, I can't help but think "Have you read your Bible, or do you just believe what your pastor tells you?" Is my theology flawless? Not a chance (If anyone ever says their's is, approach with extreme caution, or better yet don't approach at all). I am seeking and trying to sort out what I believe. And I'm growing.

Ironically, I think part of the thing I like about Hell is Forever is that the people spewing the bullshit are the villains. I have too often seen them up on a pedestal.

[invisibleraven]

24, sleepy kiss for Rulie?

"Mami?"

Julie cracked open her eyes, seeing Luna peering up at her waving her little fingers at her. "Hi moonbeam, what's up?"

"Are we making breakfast for daddy today?"

Julie looked at the clock seeing it was at least after seven AM, so that was a blessing-usually Luna woke them up closer to five. But she had promised Luna they would make Reggie breakfast for Father's Day, so up she got.

Glancing over she saw that he was still sleeping, which was good, because she knew he had been up late working, coming to bed long after Julie herself was asleep. They tried not to do that too often, but he had a new client who was very demanding and would greatly increase his business connections, so he wanted to stay in her good books.

Julie took Luna's hand, leading her down to the kitchen. "So, what do you want to make for breakfast mija?"

"Waffles!" Luna yelled, earning a shush from her mother. "With chocolate chips and berries!"

"We can do that," Julie chuckled. "Waffles are daddy's favourite."

"Yippee!"

They gathered the ingredients, and Julie placed Luna on the counter so she could help pour everything in the bowl, with the waffle iron sitting on the other side of the kitchen slowly heating up.

Thankfully by now Luna was an old hand at helping cook and bake and didn't make as much mess as she used to-Julie still had nightmares about the first time she attempted to help make pancakes with Reggie. Sure there was still some flour to wipe up and an odd piece of egg shell to fish out of the bowl, but she'd take that before ever having to clean batter off the ceiling fan again.

"You ready to pour the batter Luna Boo?" Julie asked.

Luna nodded, and they moved her stool over to the other counter so she could pour a scoop of batter into the waffle iron-the one that was shaped like the Death Star, because Julie married a Star Wars nerd, and she had come to accept it. Sure she wasn't as big a fan of the franchise, but it wasn't about her today. Plus it wasn't like he didn't put up with her love of old Disney channel movies and boy bands.

While they waited for the waffles to cook, Julie made coffee and gave Luna some fruit to wash so they could have some fruit salad as well. She did the cutting-she didn't trust Luna with knives quite yet.

Finally the breakfast was ready, so Julie got a tray ready with enough food for all of them, and Luna grabbed the card she had made for Reggie at daycare, bolting up the stairs ahead of her mother.

Only when Julie got to her bedroom, she found Luna gently giving Reggie kisses to wake him up and whispering at him that she had helped make breakfast for him because he was the best dad in the world. Julie swore she was melting as Reggie swiped at his eyes-feigning it was due to sleep, and not him tearing up.

"Love you too moonbeam," he said, voice groggy. "I'm only a great dad because I have such an awesome kid."

Luna grinned at that-the same smile that her father bore, and Julie wished she had a camera to capture this moment, but instead came in, coughing subtly.

"Hey darlin'," Reggie said, sitting up and shifting Luna over so she was in the middle of the bed. "Have fun playing sous chef?"

"Luna did it all really," Julie teased, sitting in her spot and offering them both a plate of food. Thankful that their sheets were easy to clean when she saw Luna whip out the syrup.

The food was delicious, Reggie cooed over the card and crafts Luna gave him and gave her a big sticky kiss in thanks.

"Do you wanna open my present?" Julie asked.

"You didn't have to get me anything," Reggie insisted, but made grabby hands at the envelope she swung back and forth in front of him. But then he opened it and looked at it-then at her. "Really?"

"Really," she nodded, eyes filling with tears just as his were.

"Why are you crying?" Luna asked, looking between her parents with concern. "Was the present sad?"

"No moonbeam, it's the best present," Reggie assured her. "And it's for you too."

"Me?"

"Yes mija," Julie replied. "Mami got you a baby sister or brother."

"Where is it?' Luna asked, looking around like she expected the baby to pop out.

"In my tummy," Julie replied, laying Luna's hand over her stomach. "It won't be here until after Christmas, because it still needs to grow, but next year you'll be a big sister."

"That's so cool!" Luna exclaimed.

"It really is," Reggie agreed, pulling his girls in for more kisses. "Best present ever."

[pinkestmenace]

💫 (Shooting Star) - If they were to wish on a clockwork star, like Galactic Nova or Star Dream, what would they wish for?

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

☀️ (Sun) - What’s their morning routine like? Do they take a lot of time getting ready in the morning? How do they groom themselves? What are they having for breakfast?

🐛 (Caterpillar) - What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid?

For the pea!!! :D

Oof! Starting off with some hard ones right off the bat! Have fun picking these apart. Heeheehee...

💫 (Shooting Star) - If they were to wish on a clockwork star, like Galactic Nova or Star Dream, what would they wish for?

I think current her (that is, tournament time/space shenanigans her) is pretty satisfied with her life. Enough that she wouldn't want to risk it misinterpreting her and creating some kind of disaster because it gave her more than she bargained for. This goes for 'canon' Hero of Yore her too. At least until it all goes down the drain after the fight with Void. I haven't completely worked out what happens after that. (I still need to iron out some details.) But let's just say that during the period of her existence where she desperately wants to make a wish she's no longer able to. There's no turning back time. It relentlessly marches forward until the past and all that belongs in it is forgotten. The thread of time can be bunched up and stuck in knots, it can be twisted and repeated, even folded to bridge gaps and overlap with itself, but it cannot be fully rewound. Not for her and not for her friends.

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

I don't think she necessarily has a favourite food. She does like vegetables a lot, but she's not picky at all and always open to trying new snacks! ...Actually, if she's having a bad day (or just winding down from a tiring one) she might enjoy a nice thick soup.

She's definitely a big eater and her daily diet probably involves lots of protein and carbs. (She's a jock, pretty active and needs that fuel!) But she's not that strict in her diet. Her goal is being strong! Not being perfectly slim and trim at all times.

The obvious food for the Cook ability is of course pea soup. For food that actually appears in the games the peas in a pod that can be found in Kirby's Super Star (Ultra) or the snap peas in Kirby and the Rainbow Curse. But just for fun I'd like her to spawn a glass of punch or a club sandwich.

☀️ (Sun) - What’s their morning routine like? Do they take a lot of time getting ready in the morning? How do they groom themselves? What are they having for breakfast?

She wakes up and she's up 'n' at 'em! The biggest part of her morning routine is probably combing her hair. (She has so much of it. Where did it come from?? Where does it go?) She does not bother with pretty outfits often outside of special occasions (not that she dislikes them, they just get in the way), but her luscious locks and her long lashes are her pride and joy. Gotta make sure she looks sharp when she's kicking your butt!

Breakfast is whatever she grabs first that's available in large quantities. (She wakes up HUNGRY!) If you gave her a large pile of waffles with honey they'd be gone in the blink of an eye. And then her big ol' eyes will be staring up at you for more.

🐛 (Caterpillar) - What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid?

I'd say she's pretty brave, so when she's faced with a threat she definitely tries to fight back. Fleeing is a last resort to make a tactical retreat and try again later.

There are some things that would disturb her. Things she can't fight. She prides herself on her strength and coordination. If she were to lose that, if everyone suddenly saw her as just a weak useless little bug, if she became so clumsy her friends and innocent people got hurt because of her that would definitely haunt her. If nobody listened to her or took her seriously and everyone saw her as just an overgrown child or dumb muscle, or worse something that's outlived its usefulness, that would break her heart. Especially if she believed it's coming from her own friends.

Oh, and she probably doesn't like the dark either. A cloudless night is fine, she can still orient herself by the stars. But finding herself stuck in murky suffocating darkness that stretches out endlessly wide, too lonely and too quiet, to the point where it cuts off the senses and you lose all sense of body, self, time and direction? That's just eerie! She wouldn't wish that kinda nightmarish fate on anyone!

...Actually let me tag @kirbyoctournament in this. For the 🫛 lore!

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