#yeah nah i just put it all into the mixing bowl

[emotionalsupportdman]

me: baking is a science! you need to follow the recipe exactly!

recipe: melt the butter on the stovetop (don’t even THINK about using the microwave, you godless heathen), then add the sugar and salt and stir until it starts to dissolve then slowly add the milk, stirring constantly, and heat until the mixture reaches about 105 degrees fahrenheit-

me: i’m not doing all that

[evie-sturns]

wrong room - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you recently met nick through social media, he invites you over to his house for the night. while walking to the bathroom you accidentally enter the wrong room, walking in on matt masturbating.

contains: smut, caught masturbating, soft!dom matt, swearing, light choking.

a/n: this fic will contain different pov's between yours and matts, but it will have a little text so you will known when.

—----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐----------———

i met nick just the other month at taras party, we instantly clicked resulting in him inviting me round today. i've been hanging out with him around his house his whole day with one of his triplet brothers, chris, i think.

(y/n's pov)

i lean against nicks countertop as he has a poor attempt to cook, "nick- nick no!" i laugh, grabbing the bag of flour as he repeatedly hits it with his elbow while mixing the dough.

"oh god, my fault" he says with a a grin as chris walks over, he spanks the cookie dough which is inside the mixing bowl, earning a slap from nick.

"okay- i'll give it a go." i decide to finally step up, nick steps out of the way as i look into the bowl, its somehow completely unmixed even after hes mixed for a solid 5 minutes.

i look over my shoulder, my eyebrows knit in confusion as i lock eyes with nick, "i'm actually not sure how i managed that."

"its okay baking isn't for everyone." i tease, he scoffs as chris laughs, "how do you mix for 20 minutes and all the ingredients look the exact same as when we put them in the bowl." chris says,

nick mocks him with a finger in the air and a nerdy tone, chris punches his shoulder.

i step away, "do you guys have a bathroom?" i ask, "nah we shit in the woods." chris says.

"yeah, we use the bark off the trees to wipe then bury it with our hands." nick adds on, unlocking the backdoor and opening it for me.

i go to walk out slowly, chris grabs my shoulder and spins me around, "down the hallway, and the last door on the left."

"oh-" i say with a loud laugh as i walk down the hall, i hear the metal of the bowl collide with the wooden floor from behind me "shit!" nick says.

i get to the end of the corridor and look to my right, the door is shut. i grip the handle and open it,

my eyes widen as i instantly grow hot, the third triplet, matt, is laying across the bed. hes wearing a green shirt and a necklace hangs loosely around his neck. his sweatpants are tugged down to his mid thighs as he's repeatedly running his hand up and down his length with his head thrown back.

(matts pov)

"fuck- fuck fuck-" strings of whimpers exit my mouth as slick noises fill the room, i brush my fingers over my sensitive tip before continuing to run my hand up and down my cock, the cold metal of my rings dragging against the veins.

"oh my god 'm- please please-" i whine, squeezing my eyes shut as i throw my head back against my headboard. my ears ring,

i dont even register the click of the door opening until i hear a feminine gasp "shit-" i hear.

my eyes spring open as i abruptly stop all hand movements, she stares at me in shock. her face is white and her mouth is open, after a few seconds she scrambles out of the room with several 'sorry's'

i sigh as my cheeks grow red, i didn't even cover myself. my hand is still wrapped around my length.

i stand up out of bed, my legs weak. i'm still hard but i've completely lost my train of thought, too embarrassed to think about finishing now. i hear the bathroom door slam shut, meaning that this girl has now found the bathroom.

i pull up my sweatpants, grabbing hand sanitiser off my bedside table and clean up my hands before pulling up my sweatpants.

"matt!!" i hear nick call from the kitchen. i open the door of my bedroom before making my way up the corridor.

(y/n's pov)

i unlock the door to the bathroom before walking back up towards the kitchen, the 3 triplets are there.

"we got the cookies in the oven but it turned to fucking liquid as soon as we put 'em in." chris says, pulling out the chair to the dining table and flopping down on it,

"this is matt, i don't think you've met him yet." nick says, matt and i lock eyes and he sticks his hand out for a hand shake.

i hesitate before shaking his hand, "formal ass greeting" nick says, elbowing matt and sitting down at the table, "sorry- 'm matt" matt says, running a hand through his hair "no worries, im y/n!" i say chirpily

all four of us gather at the table, matt is directly opposite me and i can feel his eyes lying on me, we keep making eye contact as chris and nick speak with each other about god knows, hes painfully attractive i have to admit, his tatoos, rings, awkward persona.

"its almost midnight, do you wanna start headed to bed?" nick asks me, i nod before walking off with nick towards his room.

"are you okay?" nick asks me as soon as the door shuts, "no- no i'm fine."

"is it matt?" nick laughs slightly as he pulls on a crewneck sweater and leaps into his bed. "yeah- no- i mean it's just i've met him before..?" i lie through my teeth, nick nods suspicously.

"well i'm tired as shit so i'm gonna cut it" nick says, "cut it?" i laugh, laying down beside nick.

"go to sleep? cut it....?" he smiles with a shrug.

-

nicks fast asleep, i just now remember the fact the cookies have been in the oven for over 35 minutes. i jump up, speed-walking out of the room and into the kitchen. i take out the metal tray, the 'cookies' are just lumps of charcoal now.

with a groan i exit the kitchen, i can see through the crack in his bedroom door that matt's still awake.

i don't know what posseses me but i knock softly on the door, "come in." i hear.

i open the door, matts shirtless in bed, still wearing those sweatpants from earlier.

(matt's pov)

my eyes widen as i see her walk into the room, "hi, uh- i just wanted to apologise for earlier." she says, i stand up out of bed to get closer to her, she shuts the door behind her. she’s only wearing a loose and long shirt which looks like a dress on her, with panties, which show every time she lifts up her arms.

"i should've knocked." she continues, i smile and shake my head.

"no i totally get it, honest mistake" i reply, "wasn't the best way to meet you so i'm sorry about that." she laughs slightly.

"its all okay," i say, "so you're not mad at me?" she asks shyly. "i would never be mad about that?" i sigh, pulling her into a hug.

theres a thick tension in the air, i don't know where it's come from but i know we are both feeling it.

she looks up at me, my arms are still loosely wrapped around her back.

she grabs my jaw before colliding our lips together, her lips are soft, i hesitate before kissing her back, my hand lacing into her hair.

i guide her back, she falls backwards onto my matress as our lips stay joined, our tongues now fighting for dominance.

her hands reach down and start tugging down my waistband. i pull away for a second, “are you sure?” i ask her, she nods frantically “please- yes.”

“arms up.” i say, she puts her arms above her head as i reach down, pulling off her loose tshirt. my eyes fall to her tits as my cheeks flush, she squirms on the matress impatiently.

i tug off her panties, discarding them somewhere across my room. she’s fully bare infront of me, her top teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

i lean over her to reach my bedside table, fiddling around in the drawer for a condom, “i’m on the pill,” she says grabbing my wrist and pulling me away

“oh shit okay!” i say, sounding a little too excited. she laughs slightly.

“you gotta be really, fucking, quiet.” i stare into her eyes, “nick is through that fucking wall and chris is the other side, if you get too loud i’ll stop mhm?”

she nods frantically “yes- yeah okay”

i line myself up with her, my hand travels down to grip her waist and i hold her hand with my free hand.

i push inside of her, instantly feeling her grip around me. i immediately worry, there’s not a single chance i’m lasting past a minute with her being this tight.

she lets out a delicate moan, holding herself back as she presses her lips together. i give her a minute to adjust before thrusting out to my tip, then pressing deeper inside of her.

with each thrust i pick up my pace as i stay concentrated on the wall, trying not to instantly cum.

she throws her head back, arching her back off my bed as every so often she lets out a shaky deep breath. i take the hand that’s on her waist and press down on her lower abdomen, seeing how far i can push her before she makes a noise.

i stop holding her hand with my other hand, and start tracing figure 8’s on her clit.

she finally breaks, letting on a desperate moan which seemed to come out louder than expected. i quicken my movements before slamming a hand over her pretty mouth. i hear a muffled ‘close’ and i continue to toy with her clit, keeping a hand plastered on her mouth.

she clenches around me, a whimper falls from my mouth as i feel her release, screaming my name.

i take my hand off her clit and place a hand on her throat, pressing lightly as she comes down from her high.

i pull out of her, finishing in my hand.

i flip down next to her, pulling her ontop of me and rubbing her back soothingly as i attempt to catch my breath. “matt..” i hear her say quietly,

“mhmm?” i reply, “can you walk me back to nicks room.” she says, sitting up on my thighs and reaching for her shirt.

“yeah, of course.” i say with a smile.

she crawls off of me to retrieve her underwear, which landed on my computer keyboard.

i sit up, pulling on my sweatpants and a soft shirt before grabbing her hand.

i creak open my bedroom door, she follows close behind me. i open the door to nicks room where he’s spread out on his bed, fast asleep. i pull down the covers and sweep her off her feet.

i lay her down on the bed, adjusting her head on the pillow before pulling up the duvet, i press my lips to her forehead before leaving the room.

————————-

(y/n’s pov)

9:38am

i wake up to the sun blaring on my face, i roll over, my legs still hurting from last night. i sit up, “nick” i tap him, he shoots up in bed.

“jesus!” i laugh, “how the fuck did you get up that fast- were you awake??”

nick erupts into laughter, “you scared me that’s all!” he says, i scoff before standing up out of bed, nick follows behind me as i open the door to his room.

i walk into the kitchen where chris and matt already are, leaning on the kitchen counter.

“good morning!” i say, matt shoots me a stupid smile “guess what.” chris says blankly, my heart drops, did he hear matt and i last night?

“what.” i instantly reply, looking over at matt who looks equally as nervous as me.

he walks over to the stovetop where the tray of ‘cookies were’ he picks them up and walks over to nick, matt and i.

“oh yeah- you dumbfucks left ‘em in the oven so i took them out.”

“what. the. FUCK is that” nick laughs, backing away from the burnt excuses of cookies.

“are they edible still?” chris genuinely asks, looking over at me for an awnser.

“chris what do you think.”

——————-

[captainsophiestark]

Unexpected Guest

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: Dating a vigilante sometimes leads to a few false alarm scares, but Dick Grayson couldn't be happier with how well his partner rolls with his crazy family.

Word Count: 1,410

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Crash!

My eyes shot open at the sound of a noise from the living room of the apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Dick Grayson. The man in question still snored peacefully next to me, annoyingly, but a quick glance at the clock told me why. It wasn't quite 5am, and Dick had been out patrolling until one in the morning. I listened carefully for any other noises in the apartment. I didn't want to wake my poor boyfriend up unless I absolutely had to.

After a few minutes of nothing, I heard another crash followed by a tense voice and what sounded like hushed swearing. This time, I didn't hesitate to roll over and whack Dick on the chest, hard.

His eyes shot open and he was half sitting up when I managed to throw a hand over his mouth to keep him from giving away that we were awake. My wide eyes must've tipped him off to something being wrong, because I immediately saw him shift from sleepy to ready for action.

Slowly, I dropped my hand from his mouth and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"There's someone in our living room. I heard two crashes and someone swearing."

Dick nodded once, then motioned with his hands while mouthing 'stay here'. He hopped off the bed, grabbing his escrima sticks from where he'd thrown them onto the dresser, then stalked towards the door with catlike grace and stealth. After a minute, I decided I couldn't just let him go alone, superhero or no, so I grabbed the bat I kept by my side of the bed and followed after him.

Dick popped out the door, and after a moment without hearing anything, I followed, bat at the ready. I found my boyfriend with one hand on his hip, weapons down, staring into the kitchen. I followed his gaze to find none other than Jason Todd in our kitchen, a mixing bowl and some eggs in front of him and a look with a significant lack of guilt on his face.

"What? I was after somebody and it dragged me all the way to Bludhaven. I needed a place to crash that was closer than Gotham."

Dick and I both shook our heads. As the oldest of a very high number of siblings, his apartment had become a second home base for every single other batkid. When we'd finally moved in together last month, he'd warned me I needed to be prepared for things like this.

"Glad you know to help yourself, Little Wing," said Dick with a sigh, waving one tired hand to Jason before turning and heading back to bed. I squeezed his shoulder and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he passed me, then headed into the kitchen with a smile.

"My tax for you making me think I'd have to fight off an assailant with a bat at five in the morning is my own serving of whatever you're making," I said, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island stools. Jason raised an eyebrow at me.

"You're not going back to bed?"

"Nah. Unlike Dick, I got to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour last night, so the adrenaline dump isn't threatening to put me to sleep. I'd rather hang out with you, especially since you're a better cook than Dick and I combined. I'm not missing out on that."

Jason snorted, cracking an egg and resuming his cooking all the same.

"Dick contributes nothing to your combined cooking score," he said. "I'm pretty sure he's burned cereal before."

I laughed. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're right. He's gotten better though. We watch the Food Network and look up recipes to make together, and I can trust him with way more than I used to be able to."

"If you could teach him anything it'd be a miracle," said Jason with a snort. I just hummed, trying to pick up some new skills of my own as I watched Jason cook.

"To be totally fair to him, I once forgot what I was doing and strained soup because I was on autopilot for pasta."

Jason barked a laugh, unable to hold himself back, and looked at me with a grin and a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" I nodded. "That's pathetic."

I just shrugged. "Yeah. But at least there's not a lot of places to go but up, after that."

"I guess so."

Jason and I chatted as he cooked and I watched, keeping our voices low so Dick could sleep—although, after the night he'd had, he'd probably sleep through a train in our living room. After breakfast, Jason decided to go down for a nap on the couch, passing out almost as soon as we'd put the last few dishes in the sink. I just smiled, threw a blanket over him, and wandered back into the bedroom to find Dick.

It was late enough in the morning now that my boyfriend was officially up and about, stretching by the bed with his hair still a little messed up from sleeping. I grinned and flopped down against the headboard as he crossed the room to the dresser to pull out clothes.

"How's Jaybird?" he asked. "Still a good cook?"

"Still a great cook. And he's good. He seems a little wiped out from patrols and stuff, though. He's taking a nap on the couch right now."

Dick smiled and shook his head. "I get up and he goes to sleep. Typical."

"Clearly he's avoiding you."

"Clearly."

Dick and I shared a smile, and then he sighed.

"I'm going to take a shower. Hopefully Jason will be up by the time I'm out, because I actually have things to do today."

I smiled, shifting on the bed to pull the covers over myself. "I'm sure you can be quiet if he's not. Wake me up when you're out of the shower, okay? A post-breakfast nap sounds too good to resist right now."

My boyfriend laughed. "Alright, will do. I'll wake you and Jason up when I'm out."

"Mhm. Good luck with him."

"Thanks, I'm gonna need it."

I closed my eyes, getting comfortable and ready for my nap, but before I drifted off I heard Dick's shuffling footsteps crossing the room to stand by my side of the bed. A second later, he sat down next to me, the bed dipping under his weight. I cracked an eye open to squint at him.

"What do you want?"

He grinned at me and chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to interfere with your nap. I just... I wanted to say how much I appreciate you, and how good you are with my family. They mean the world to me, but I know having vigilantes dropping in at all hours of the day and night can be a little much to deal with. So thank you for being so wonderful about it, and about them."

I sighed, sitting all the way up and propping myself up on my hands to look Dick in the eye.

"Dick, I love you. And I love your family. Sure, it took a little getting used to some of the vigilante stuff, but the longer I know them the more I love them. You don't have to thank me for anything. They're my family too."

Dick absolutely beamed at me, wrapping one arm around my back and pulling me in for a kiss. I immediately reciprocated, tangling one hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. I smiled into the kiss and a moment later, Dick deepened it. We were right on the edge of escalating into something more, but both thought better of it at the last moment.

"I should take a shower," he said, still looking a little reluctant as he pulled away.

"Yeah, and you should stop interrupting my nap."

Dick snorted, rolling his eyes as he finally stood and headed for the bathroom. I grinned after him as he went, flopping back down onto my pillow only as Dick closed the bathroom door.

I took a deep breath and sighed, a smile on my face, as I closed my eyes for the second time. I heard the water start in the bathroom, and a faint smell of breakfast still hung in the air. I was surrounded by people I loved dearly, and who loved me right back. No matter the scare Jason had given me when he'd shown up, I couldn't ask for a better start to my morning than this.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

DC Taglist: @luv-ghostie

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,354 Words

Summary: Sun and Moon take Earth and Lunar on vacation, which leaves Ruin and Solar to babysit Eclipse.

Warnings: Imprisonment?, Babysitting, Brotherly Bonding, Self-Esteem Issues, Touch-Starved, Cursing, Fluff, Mild Angst, let me know if I should add anything else.

To Babysit A Grown Man

The fact that they’d allowed him to live now was seemingly moot, Eclipse was a glorified maid at this point. They always had him cleaning and running their errands for them. Especially Moon, Moon the most out of everyone with Sun being the second most.

Lunar avoided him, Earth as well due to unsavory memories at the previous Eclipse and the Original. Ruin outright hated him. Solar was the one who was ‘friendliest’. Solar didn’t make him do things, but he also didn’t pay Eclipse much mind. But at least Solar wasn’t using the household ’maid’.

Eclipse had been most surprised when Sun, Moon, Earth, and Lunar left on a family vacation, leaving him under the direction of Ruin and Solar. He wasn’t sure why they’d trusted to leave him under the influence of their cousins alone when they’d kept him under strict lock and key before.

It was a stretch to think they were beginning to trust him, so perhaps it was an exercise to see if Ruin or Solar would truly betray them while they were all screwing off to the Bahamas or wherever they’d gone. Eclipse sure didn’t know where they’d gone, he’d just been told they were on a week-long vacation.

Eclipse sighed as Ruin went to charge and finally the judging eyes left as Solar was now taking shift to watch him like a babysitter. It was infuriating but, not that Ruin was gone, he was relieved. He’d rather be ‘babysat’ by Solar anyway. At least Solar didn’t threaten him constantly.

“So what are you up to, huh?” Solar asked, following Eclipse as he went to the daycare kitchen.

“Hobby. Thankfully Moon didn’t throw it out before he left like he said he would.” Eclipse grazed his hand over the large bowl of dough on the counter he’d made a couple hours ago under Ruin’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Yeah, been meaning to ask about that. What is that giant container thing you have on the counter all the time? Venom or something?” Solar asked.

“Bread starter. Sourdough.” Eclipse answered as he took the cloth off the bowl and put flour on the counter, tipping the dough onto the counter and using a knife to divide it into six. God, he made too much. Eclipse sighed at the amount he’d made and shook his head.

“Why’d you learn how to make bread, Clipse?” Solar asked, simply sitting at the table with his feet on it as he scrolled on his arm computer.

“I wanted to learn something…harmless, I guess. It just interested me when I saw videos of it.” Eclipse told him, mixing matcha powder into one of the six doughs and putting nutella on the inside of the dough as he rolled it up and put it into one of the six baking dishes he had out for the bread.

“Well, I’m glad you found a hobby. What kinds are you making?” Solar asked.

“Well, I made too much. And I don’t think I can stand all one flavor. One of them is matcha nutella. One last said it tastes good but I’m not sure for the rest.” Eclipse tried to figure out what exactly to do with the rest.

“You want help?” Solar asked.

“You know how to make bread?” Eclipse asked.

“Nah, I’m not into baking. But I can suggest shit we have so you don’t overproof it, or whatever it’s called, having to go get more stuff to use.” Solar chuckled at him.

“Hm. Sure.” Eclipse agreed.

“I have instant espresso. You can probably put instant espresso powder in one so you have coffee flavored bread.” Solar suggested.

“That…actually sounds good.” Eclipse muttered as he looked through Solar’s cabinet and got out the instant espresso powder, mixing a bit into one of the doughs and putting it into a baking dish.

“Chocolate powder in one of the others Then we have blueberries you can use for one. Maybe one plain bread. Aaaand maybe rosemary and garlic.” Solar suggested.

“Where do you come up with this stuff?” Eclipse grumbled as he did the other four as Solar had suggested and scored them and put them into the oven with a pan with hot water.

“I don’t like baking but that doesn’t mean I don’t like bread.” Solar told him.

“Well, yeah, bread is good.” Eclipse sat with him to watch the oven. “Get your damn feet off the table.” Eclipse playfully shoved Solar’s legs off the table and onto one of the other chairs.

“Ugh. Can’t a guy put his feet up?” Solar sighed.

“Not when you’ve got those damn boots on. I don’t wanna clean the table a third time today alone.” Eclipse rolled his eyes.

“How long?” Solar nodded to the oven.

“Twenty minutes. Take the tops off and 20 more. Sadly, they need to rest for like an hour after before I can cut them.” Eclipse watched the clock.

“Fucker. Why can’t we eat molten lava bread?” Solar whined.

“Because it’ll kill every bit of our internals it touches. And it needs to cool to cut it. Or it won’t cut right or something.” Eclipse told him.

“Despair and disappointment.” Solar chuckled. Eclipse felt relaxed, he liked this little banter. It felt like he wasn’t being babysat, it felt like he was at home with a friend. Family? Were they family? Did Eclipse even get that title?

“You’re overthinking again. What’s in your head?” Solar asked.

“I…just….Are we family? Do I deserve that even? O-Or am I just being delusional or something?” Eclipse asked.

“You’re not delusional, we are family. You’re like my little brother kinda.” Solar smiled.

Eclipse halted and stared at Solar with slight awe. He’d thought Solar would call him a cousin or second cousin thrice removed or whatever meaningless title he could think of. Hell, he thought he’d get told no and called a nuisance.

To be called brother. It felt like someone lighting a fire into his core, it made his processors run on overdrive and his engines turn warm with heightened intensity. Eclipse felt…happy? Wanted? Loved? All he knew was he felt warm and excited.

“Eclipse, your bread.” Solar reminded him, opening the oven and taking the tops off for him.

“Thank you.” Eclipse felt tears well over his cheeks and he couldn’t help but smile, artificial breaths staggered with tears.

“You’re welcome.” Solar told him, not yet noticing that Eclipse was in tears. Solar put the tops of the cooking dishes in the sink to be washed. Solar came and sat back down with him and Solar finally seemed to take notice of Eclipse’s tears.

“You okay?” Solar asked, sliding a hand over but hesitating to hold Eclipse’s hand.

“You really see me as your brother?” Eclipse asked softly.

“Of course I do. I don’t get much time to hang out with you but yeah, you’re my brother.” Solar held his hand and Eclipse melted into more tears because of it. He hadn’t been touched that gently before, ever that he could remember.

“You’re too nice to me.” Eclipse whispered.

“Eclipse, come here.” Solar forced Eclipse to stand and hugged him into his arms. Eclipse melted against him and cling on tightly. The hug was so simple but it made him break down finally, choked sobs leaving him. His engines felt so warm and his processors felt like they were burning.

“It’s okay. I get it, it’s okay.” Solar rubbed his back softly and Eclipse sniffled, his fit of tears slowly petering off. He let go of Solar slowly and wiped his tears off his face, trying to stop crying.

“Thank you.” Eclipse whispered.

“No problem, little brother.” Solar ruffled his rays and made him laugh a little at the feeling of his messed up rays.

“Now about bread, I’ve got questions on if we can bake moondrops into them.” Solar told him.

“If we crack them like eggs maybe. Or melt them down.” Eclipse answered, laughing more at the idea.

“We’re doing that and giving it to Moon. Maybe force him to sleep for once.” Solar told him.

“You’re taking the blame. Not it.” Eclipse claimed.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for heavily seasoning casserole leftovers?

TLDR: My aunt made a bland TikTok casserole and I added seasoning to my leftovers.

Background: I (21NB) live with my aunt (60F) rent-free while I attend school. I moved in with her as soon as I graduated high school because my parents were abusive and I couldn't stay in their house any longer, and she offered to let me live with her. I've offered on multiple occasions to pay rent, but she always refuses. I do try to do chores around the house (washing dishes and putting them away, vacuuming, cleaning the bathroom, etc.) but sometimes I fall behind or she gets to them first.

Anyways, onto the issue. My aunt decided to make a casserole that she found on TikTok. I was immediately skeptical, because I've seen the abhorrent casserole recipes that have breached TikTok's containment, but she's generally a good cook so I decided to trust her. And the casserole wasn't terrible, it was just very bland. Incredible bland. But when she asked if it was okay, I said "yeah, it's good." She went on to say that she thought it was bland (which I agreed with, not sure if she heard me) and that it needed more seasoning, and she wouldn't be making it again. However, we have a whole pan of casserole that needs to be eaten. So tonight, I scooped myself a bowl and seasoned my portion. This happened in front of her. I didn't think she'd mind since she said it needed more seasoning in the first place. But I'm always very polite and grateful that she makes anything, because I know she put effort into the dish and that she is kind enough to share it with me is all that matters.

However, when she asked what I was doing and I told her I was adding some seasoning, she seemed... weird? I'm not entirely sure because I don't look at people's faces (I'm autistic) and I think she was a bit offended. She added a bit of buffalo dressing to hers and I used a mix of other seasonings we have. And I admit, I do heavily season my foods because I grew up with much more flavorful dishes than what white people usually make (the majority of my friends growing up were POC, so I was the token white kid that loved spicy and ethnic food. In fact I think this might be the first casserole I've ever eaten. Sorry, I'm getting off track).

AITA for heavily seasoning my aunt's casserole in front of her?

What are these acronyms?

[aclowntiny]

The Dancing Effect- Best Friend!Dino x Gender Neutral!Best Friend!Reader (College AU)

Word Count: 3,434 | Fluff, Best Friends to Lovers, College AU | Warnings: 💋 hehe

“Admit it, you love it.”

You turned to meet the eyes of your best friend, upturned in pleasure as he grinned at you, shaking your head in amusement as he ran a hand through his bleached-blonde hair.

He’d invited you to join a dance class with him, just a beginner one rather than the advanced stuff he did for his major, and out of need for an elective you’d agreed. The class was a mix of styles, ranging from swing and waltz to some fun Latin steps. Partners were assigned and you got given a guy named Jihoon who wasn’t exactly the tallest guy in class, but really shocked you with his strength when he effortlessly dipped you each salsa round. As you twirled around the smooth studio floor, you could see your own reflection passing the mirrored walls with a grin. There was no denying this was your most fun elective yet, even if you didn’t want to give Chan the satisfaction.

“I guess it is pretty fun,” you conceded mock-grudgingly, relenting into a grin at the pure joy radiating across Chan’s face.

He must have really wanted you to enjoy dancing. “What’s your favorite style so far?”

You swerved around a skateboarder, arcing around to return to Chan’s side. “I don’t know, there’s something cute about the swing,” you replied.

Your best friend nodded thoughtfully, squinting slightly at you as if in scrutiny. “I see.”

You just giggled. “What? Why, what’s your favorite?”

“I don’t know, the waltz is kind of romantic.”

“Oh yeah? Thinking of your partner, eh?” You couldn’t help but tease him. You didn’t know the girl he was paired with, but she seemed nice and no matter what his reaction would be funny.

“Ew,” Chan’s nose wrinkled, his face screwing up hilariously, “Minkyung is my friend’s sister! No way!”

You put your hands in the air, palms up. “All right, all right, just checking.”

“Yeah, she’s totally not my type.”

He always said that, but you’d yet to hear what was Chan’s type. If you didn’t know him so well, you’d just assume he wasn’t ready for a relationship, but he was a great guy, so probably just picky. Or looking for someone who could be as sassy as him, you reflected as the two of you continued teasing each other.

~

Chan’s club was hosting a little ‘fall bash’ outside of the student union. They were putting up one of those big shade tents with snack tables and setting up speakers, lights, and banners for some icebreakers and dancing. All students were welcome of course, so not majoring in dance didn’t exclude you in the slightest.

Free food and new company was all it took for you, a recent transfer to campus, to be sold, but the light show sounded like it was going to be bomb, too.

“Yeah, they’ll be dancing over us as we move! In fall colors of course almost like leaves! I tried to get them to actually make leaf-shaped formations, but they said-”

“Whoa, slow down there, Passion Boy.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be there.”

“What are you going to wear?”

You cocked a brow. “Why, are you supposed to dress up? I didn’t think this was prom.”

“Nah, it’s wear whatever you want.”

“Then frankly I have no clue. Maybe that orange sweater I got? That's fall-y."

"Orange sweater. Got it."

~

You weren't sure what Chan had meant until you showed up to the party and saw him dressed in a burnt orange blazer, which was buttoned smartly over a black turtleneck and matching jeans and boots, just a hint of fall color that perfectly matched yours.

"What is this, Sadie Hawkins?" You teased, tugging at Chan's sleeves.

Your best friend just shrugged, pinching a peach ring out of a nearby candy bowl and bringing it to his lips. "Thought it might be fun."

"That is a cool blazer. Is it comfortable?"

"Here," he unbuttoned it immediately, shrugging it off his shoulders, "try it on."

Chuckling, you removed your jacket, then pulled the sleeves on over yours, buttoning yourself in and inhaling a big whiff of Chan's scent. A unique mix of cologne and that faint, perpetual bit of dance sweat. Whether it was a good or bad smell you couldn't even tell at that point because you were so used to it, it just smelled like home to you. Ever since you guys had your first class a year ago, you were inseparable, sharing car space and visiting each other's dorms all the time. In all honesty, you were a bit surprised you could still smell it after this long, but the blazer seemed to hold an extra concentrated Chan essence you found yourself wanting to inhale just for the comfort.

"So," your best friend raised his eyebrows, "like it?"

With a nod, you answered "I do. I might just steal it."

He teasingly unbuttoned it and pulled it back off you, onto his own chest once more. "Alright, then no more. Go get your hand stamped, (y/n)."

"Get my what now?"

"If you wanna dance, you have to sign the waiver and get a stamp. Campus liability and all that."

"Right, in case our swing dance rager gets us grievously wounded," you rolled your eyes, making your way to the table where two guys stood, one on either side.

One of them, a guy in white with black hair and a sweet smile, introduced himself as Soonyoung, gawking when you signed in as (y/n) because 'oh my gosh you're the friend Chan is always talking about'. He gave you an incredibly pleased grin as he pressed the stamp against the back of your hand, leaving a little orange cartoon of a fall leaf on it.

"Do you have any other stamps?" The other guy, a tall, trenchcoat-and-sweater-clad figure with sort of long hair, asked.

"We don't and you know it," Soonyoung shook his head, nudging him teasingly, "you international students think you can come in and tell us what to do, huh?"

Tall Guy put his hand over his heart in mock offense, and Soonyoung reached over to quickly stamp it, sticking his tongue out as he did so.

"You're an international student? Where are you from?"

"China," he answered with a wide smile, looking directly at you but batting at Soonyoung blindly from behind with one hand, "Guangdong, to be a little more specific. My name is Junhui."

"See, I may be the (y/n) Soonyoung heard about, but I've heard a ton about your dancing skills from Chan! He says he wants to go to China, you and the other guy are so good! What's the other guy's name?"

Junhui waved off your compliment. "Minghao is a way better dancer than me. And if you want dirt on Chan, he's the one you want to go to," he added with a devilish little smile.

"I'll remember that," you reply, mirroring his expression before wandering back over to the snack tables to grab a few of your favorite candies, squinting a bit in the dim purplish ambience and nighttime air to find them.

Your classmate Mia was at the snack table too, gingerly grabbing some chips as you stuffed your own face, so you busied yourself with asking how her math test went until a lilting, old-fashioned tune poured forth from the speakers.

You gasped. "Time to dance!" Tossing your candy wrappers, you shuffled excitedly over to the wide open area of student zone concrete that was the dance floor.

Being members of the hosting dance club, Junhui and Soonyoung each grabbed you for a dance first, and wow, was that two different experiences. Junhui led you so smoothly, fluidly, and gently you felt like you were being glided on clouds, dancing just as well as your instructor did. You almost felt like you were back in class learning the best pace for each triple-step. He was so nice about it, you forgot to feel embarrassed at your own novice skills. Following that, Soonyoung was a whirlwind, twirling you exuberantly and performing crossovers and turns you'd never even seen before; your feet could barely keep up, but you were laughing the whole time. Mia asked you to teach her what everyone was doing, so you did your best to lead her despite usually performing in class as a follower, clumsily giving her a lesson before taking her for a turn around the spotlight-dotted dance floor, the sidewalk a glittering, wonderful mess of dancing duos and even singles doing their own thing.

You stopped to drape your jacket on a chair, grab a soda and recharge, and that was when you saw Chan. He was doing the same thing as you, catching your eyes with a smile and nod of his head. His blonde hair was thoroughly tousled by the wind now, all the fast steps of the last song clearly being taken as a challenge.

A new song started a few sips later. "Come on, it's my turn now!"

The moment you obliged, Chan took your hand. Close as you guys were, you'd never really held hands before. It surprised you how delicately your best friend intertwined your fingers, taking your hand slowly as if reaching for something behind a door that might close. He held your hand like that, gently connected, until you reached the floor, where he let go, sliding his right hand down to your waist as you rested your left on his shoulder. He joined your other hands, extending them out a bit before glancing off, clearly mentally counting the song's pace.

Chan swayed you so gently, leading you carefully into each step of the turn. Much more warning than Soonyoung, and a little more care somehow than even Junhui, who moved like it was second nature to him. Chan seemed to take his time, savoring every motion and smiling widely at the joy you got from each turn. When you went to each side and even as you stepped back, his eyes never left yours. Maybe it was the spotlights dancing over the makeshift floor, but they looked extra sparkly tonight. Or maybe it was what you called the dancing effect. Jihoon was always cuter to you when he was dipping you.

That had to be it, but you'd never looked into Chan's eyes so deeply, so intently before. You knew if you looked at your feet, gazed too long at another pair dancing, you'd lose time, falter in your footing, so your best friend's gaze was your anchor, the center of your every motion. There was no reason to look away, especially when the twinkling green and white lights reflected so well in them. You'd never felt the warmth of Chan's hand against your waist either, the way he softly pulled you closer to his chest after you strayed too far from a twirl. It was getting harder to convince yourself that your heart was just beating faster from the exertion of dancing to six songs in a row.

"Are you glad you came?" He asked in between songs, tilting his head and keeping you swaying even in the momentary silence, as if you'd run away from him otherwise.

What a time to ask that question. "Yeah," you breathed, giving a simple nod, "this is really fun."

"I was hoping you'd enjoy it," he replied. No teasing for once- you could tell by his tone how genuine he was being.

You felt his hand flex ever-so-slightly above your waist, the dancing effect sending your heart jumping. "Of course."

They'd snuck some Latin songs in before the night was over, and you were beyond frustrated upon your brief partner switch that Jihoon was no longer all that cute to you, even when he dipped you.

~

"Well, I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow."

"Whoa, whoa," Chan jogged to keep up with you, "oh no you don't, I'm walking you back."

"I know my way back to the dorms, Chan," you replied with a light laugh. The glittering spotlights had been once again replaced with almost eerie mystic purple ambiance, casting shadows on the concerned frown crossing Chan's defined features.

"Yeah, but it's dark. I'm getting you home safe."

There was that flutter again- he'd done that before, though, countless times. You'd walked between your buildings more times than you'd needed to keep record of. This was nothing new.

You relented anyway. "Alright, yeah, thanks. You're right."

"I know I am. Campus can be dangerous. You need someone to keep you safe."

"Oh, my knight in shining armor," you teased, giving his shoulder a little push and drinking in the smile you received in response. Why wasn't the dancing effect wearing off?

"Come on, let's go."

"The guys are still tearing down."

"Eh," Chan waved a hand, "They can fold a few tables without me. Right, guys?" He called a little bit louder.

Soonyoung gave him a thumbs-up. Junhui whooped, and the graceful guy you'd come to know as Minghao just remarked that no matter what they said he'd go anyway before cracking a mischievous smile.

"See? On we go."

Leaves drifted through the night air, carried in a dance of their own as cold air blew. Instinctively you wrapped your arms around your middle as you reminisced on the night's success.

"Here, you need this more than I do. Besides," Chan smirked as he removed his blazer again, "you liked it so much the first time."

You'd thought nothing of wearing his blazer the first time. Why did it make you so happy now? Maybe it was the way he draped it onto you himself, making you feel like a 1950s starlet or something. Maybe it was the way that as you took nearly-stinging breaths of cold air, still inhaling harder from exertion, you picked up that homey smell again, this time mixed with a skosh more dance sweat, but you didn't mind, knowing you had the same and Chan wouldn't judge you for it.

When you reached the door of your building, slowly drawing your key card from your wallet, you gave him his blazer back, hands dropping to your sides. "Well, thanks for everything. You guys really should have more parties. This was a lot of fun."

"Are you kidding? Thanks for coming! This was a success, so I'm sure we'll have an even bigger one next time!"

Your eyes didn't leave his. "That's the spirit."

"Always. Hey, well, good night."

"Good night," you breathed back as Chan pulled you into your customary goodbye hug.

You weren't sure if it was you, him, or just straight-up your imagination that held on a bit longer this time. When you separated, he kept a hand on your shoulder for just a second, leaning in a tiny bit and looking at you with those furrowed, scrutinizing brows, then just as quickly he pulled back away, scurrying off. You couldn't help feeling a very hard lightning bolt of disappointment zap you through the clouds of confusion.

"Guess I'd better go help. I'll see you tomorrow, though!" He ran off, waving like nothing different had happened.

You waved slowly, resisting the urge to lightly slap some sense into your head.

~

You were early to dance class that afternoon, feeling a strange anticipation of the whole event. You could tell as soon as you walked in, though, that you were going to have a hard time keeping your eyes off of Minkyung and how she got danced with, though.

That was the root of your anticipation. Ever since that dang party, that cursed blazer and the way Chan held you, it was like every muscle in your body ached to see him again. Despite all the time you'd gotten with him in the past year. It was like that had vanished completely, leaving a void more massive than you'd have ever guessed behind. Like even though you'd loved every minute of hanging out, you'd somehow took it all for granted.

"I'm surprised Chan hasn't come barreling in with your jacket yet," a voice commented at your side.

Turning around, you were met with Minghao.

"My jacket?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you left it behind at the party and Chan kept saying how he was going to have to remember to bring it back to you after letting you forget it. Seemed like he felt a little bad." That smile again. For all his calm, Minghao had a little streak of fire in him, it seemed.

And, if you remembered Junhui correctly, dirt on Chan. "Junhui said you know Chan pretty well, huh?"

That earned you a full-on grin. "Well, he's not my best friend or anything, but he opens up to me. Something you wanted to know?"

"No, Junhui just told me about you having something I could tease him about is all," you chuckled.

"Please don't." The slender dance major still sounded faintly amused, but something in his tone softened.

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Don't tease him about it, ok?"

"Wait, what are you talking about?"

"He really likes you, ok? So don't give him a hard time. You should know better than anyone he's more sensitive than he gives off."

"He what?" You didn't mean to raise your voice as much as he did, especially with the reverb in the mostly-empty dance practice room, but you could barely hear anything over the roar of your chest's somersaults.

"Oh, wait, Junhui didn't spill the beans?"

So that was why no one was Chan's type? Your jaw dropped, but before you could say anything, the door swung open, revealing the figure of your bleach-blonde friend stepping into the fluorescent light, casually dropping his backpack against the wall and waving brightly at you.

You, for your part, waved back, well aware that you were probably smiling like an idiot. The void in your chest filled so fast, it was like it barely existed in the first place.

~

After class, you guys grabbed your stuff, presumably to take your usual walk to the student union, but Chan stopped you. "You left your-"

"Jacket, yeah, I realized this morning."

"Yeah, sorry."

"Don't be," you chuckled, "I have more than one, you know."

"Yeah, but I like this one, so I wanted to make sure you had it. It's your old one. I didn't wash it, so it still has that (y/n) smell," he commented with a sheepish smile.

So you had a smell too. Something about that filled you with nearly as big a wave of confidence as Minghao's words, which had your chest soaring all through class and even Jihoon asking you why you were so giddy. You just told him you'd gotten good news. Either way, your heart pounded as you threw caution to the wind. No more taking anything for granted.

"That one's your favorite, huh? Tell you what," you quipped, stepping close enough to take the jacket out of Chan's hands and drape it over his shoulders, "you keep it then and I will steal your blazer."

"Why would I do that?" He asked, gulping at the way your hands smoothed the jacket over his chest.

"Call it something in the dance floor air," you said, giving him one last look in the eyes before your hands found your jacket's collar, tugging it forward until Chan fell into you, his lips meeting yours.

The moment you connected, Chan kissed back, hands wrapping around your waist far tighter than they had last night as yours slid up his chest and around his neck. You moved faster, then he did, and you both kept at it, challenging each other until you both needed air. As you pulled away, though, Chan caught the back of your head in his hand, pulling you back into him so your foreheads rested together.

"Man, if all it took was dancing with you, I'd have made Jihoon switch partners with me on day one."

"Minghao also may or may not have snitched on you."

"I'm going to fight him."

"But it was mostly the dancing."

"Charmed you, didn't I?"

"Something like that."

"What can I say," Chan commented, flicking forward just long enough to ghost his lips over yours, "I know you so well."

You smiled and shook your head, which fell onto his shoulder, bringing that homey smell up into your head with the fall breeze once more. For once, you didn't feel like sassing Chan back, your chest-void now overflowing with more serotonin than you knew what to do with. "That you do."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Broken Shell

Epilogue for Sweet Treats AU: by character | chronological | epilogues

Warnings: these drabbles will include dark elements such as noncon, control, intimidation, and other stuff that may not be specified. Take this as you chance to scroll by.

Note: Sigh, oh Buck.

Please let me know what you think <3

🍒🍒🍒

"You really never baked?" You ask as you plop a bowl in front of Bucky.

The idea of him standing in your kitchen is absurd. You still can't believe it. It feels just a little fantastical. Your friends would never believe you, not they ever listened to your ramblings about earth's greatest defenders.

"No, I just… my ma hated me being in the kitchen and Co– my wife," he pauses and takes a breath, "before she went missing, my wife, baking was her alone time."

"Ah, makes sense," you open a drawer and pull out a whisk and a spatula, "sorry, didn't mean to bring all that up."

"Nah, nah, it's…it always comes up you know, you just learn to live with it." 

He puts on a smile. You catch him doing that a lot. Pretending everything’s okay. You’re not brave enough to push for more than that. You couldn’t imagine being him or going through that kind of pain.

“Well, it would be a good thing to learn then. To surprise her once you find her,” you offer the thin morsel of optimism.

“Huh,” his cheek dimples, “yeah, I guess you’re right.” He watches you pull out your tools and ingredients, “you always know exactly how to cheer me up, don’t you?”

“Eh, I don’t know,” you shrug as you plop the flour on the counter, “maybe I just don’t know how to handle bad thoughts so I go straight to escapism. Which baking is a great medium for that.”

He lets himself chuckle as you pull the open cookbook closer. You tap the page as he taps his fingers restlessly. It’s the first time he’s worn anything short sleeve around you, or even removed the glove.

“Take the lead.”

“What? What do I do?”

“Read each step and follow along. I’ll be here for moral support, mostly.”

“Uh, oh, really?” He looks back to the bowl fearfully.

“Don’t be like that, come on. With everything you’ve faced, I’m sure you can handle a simple cake.”

“Oh, I’ve been called simple before but I don’t know if I can handle this,” he clucks and leans forward, pressing his fingertip to the page as he reads. “Alright, cream eggs and sugar… we need cream?”

“No, mix the eggs and sugar,” you explain, until they’re smooth.”

“Ah, ha, alright, egg…” he grabs an egg from the tray and it cracks in his metal grip. His brows raise and his lips curve downward as its yellow innards leak from his fist. He opens his hand, “ugh, god, I forgot– I just–” 

He shakes his hand off as you grab the paper towels. You offer him some and clean up the broken egg. He’s quiet as he wipes off the vibranium and clutches the wad of towel. He plants his hands on the counter and sighs.

“I’m sorry, I fuck everything up.”

“It’s fine, it’s just an egg,” you hold out your hand, “let me throw that out.”

“No, you don’t understand. I break everything. I ruin everything!” He thumps his fist on the wooden countertop, “I… I was trying to fix things before it happened. Before she was gone and now it’s too late–”

“Bucky, please, you’re gonna find her and then you can fix it. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to help with all knowing you looked so hard for her.”

He sniffs and closes his eyes. He blindly hands over the paper towel. He pinches the bridge of his nose and steps away from the counter. He tilts his head back and turns to lean with a groan.

“I’m not gonna find her,” his voice cracks, “I’ve been looking for so long… I don’t even wanna think of what’s happened.”

“Shush,” you drop the dirtied paper towels in the trash and face him, wiping your hands on a dish towel, “don’t talk like that. I hate… I hate hearing it. I hate seeing you like this.”

“You don’t know. You don’t know how lonely it is and how shitty it feels,” his timbre turns rocky as he drops his chin down, fixing you in his sights, “you can’t know.”

“I can’t,” you come closer, reaching hesitantly to rub his arm, the real one, “but I’m trying to understand, Bucky. You know I will always listen.”

“No, no, it’s not that I miss her,” he glances over at your hand as it caresses his sleeve. A wave of self-consciousness overcomes you. You recoil your arm and cross it over your chest, curling your fingers around your shoulder. “It’s that I don’t miss her as much as I used to.”

He looks back to you with glistening eyes, “because I think so much about you.”

“What?” You croak as the air rushes from your chest.

“I… I’m a piece of shit. I can’t stop myself. As much as I want to find her, to know she’s safe, I want just as bad to kiss you right now and it’s eating me up inside.”

“Bucky, I…”

“I know I can’t, I know, but she was going to a lawyer. It was over. I missed her a long time before she disappeared.”

“Oh, Bucky,” you reach to him again, not thinking as you take his hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I lost her already,” he squeezes your hand. “I won’t put that on you but could I have one thing?”

“What?”

“A hug,” he pushes out his lower lip pathetically.

“Of course,” you let go of him and open your arms, “friends can hug, Buck.”

He wraps you up in his embrace, strong and warm. It’s like a vice as he clutches you to him, tighter and tighter. A shudder rolls over him and flows through you.

You think to pull away, or try to, but stop yourself as he sniffles. He’s crying. He’s confused. He needs to get it all out. And you have to admit, it’s a tingly sort of feeling to know he needs you.

[basiliskonline]

LETS MAKE SOME FUCKING STRAWBERRY TIRAMISU!

You only get ONE FUCKIN PICTURE cause this website fucking sucks and every attempt to put more than one into this has caused it to break. ANYWAY, ON TO THE FUCKING TIRAMISU!

This is an adapted recipe I inferred from an Easy Biscoff Tiramisu recipe i use all the fucking time! If you search for strawberry tiramisu on the internet I assume you will find some and i assume they will look really fucking similar to this, but I don't fucking know cause I never looked for any! But I totally admit I'm unlikely to have created something unique in the history of the whole damned world. Unless... Did I? Nah. Probably not...

Aight so first off we are gonna make some BOSS ASS MASCARPONE CREAM! You need:

MASCARPONE (Shocker!! Also: this is cheese! Yeah I had no fucking idea my favorite dessert was made with cheese but here we fucking are, anyway its delicious and even though you've never heard of it, you can find it at pretty much any fucking store!) You need about 8 oz!

Strawberries! I hope you bought a 2 lbs box of these motherfuckers cause you are gonna use MOST of that 2 pounds throughout this recipe. But you only need about 200 grams right now. Yeah all of this shit is mostly done in grams cause i have a little fucking kitchen scale i use and its fucking great.

Sugar! Just a lil bit. I used splenda, but ya know, you can use sugar. 2 tbsp of sugar or about 3-4 packets of splenda.

A splash of fucking vanilla extract. Yeah i never measure this shit, i just splash a bit in, measure that shit with love, but if you aren't familiar with vanilla don't measure with TOO MUCH LOVE, ya dig?

Some Heavy fucking WHIPPING CREAM, I use a Trader Joes Vegan Alternative cause my wife can't do too much dairy and its got less calorie and it tastes exactly like cream, but do whatever the fuck you like, I'm not your mom. You're gonna 2 cups of heavy whipping cream for this part (and a teensy bit for the next part)

Aight so here's the fucking deal. You are gonna take 200 grams of those strawberries and throw their ass in a food processor or blender or some shit and you just murder those lil bastards, it should be juicy and not to chunky. (also keep the tops greens and all for smoothies or eating and shit, they are edible and good for you, don't waste that shit).

Now you got some blended fucking strawberries, you throw the 8 ounces of Mascarpone cream in there along with the 2 tbsp of sugar (or 3-4 packets of splenda) and a splash of vanilla and then you are gonna mix that shit up with a power mixer of some kind (or I guess put some real elbow grease into it? fuck man if you are that much of a masochist than go for it, i support you, you do you!). Don't mix too long just like 60 seconds or so... cause the Mascarpone can "split" easily or something? IDK man, thats just what the recipe I adapted said so im passing it along! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

NEXT YOU THROW TWO CUPS OF THAT COLD ASS WHIPPING CREAM IN THERE AND WHIP THE SHIT OUT OF IT FOR ABOUT 1-2 MORE MINUTES UNTIL ITS GOT STIFF PEAKS AND SHIT!

Confucking grats, you got some delicious ass strawberry mascarpone cream in a bowl, go ahead and eat a spoonful because you FUCKING EARNED IT!

(I had originally intended to throw some zero-sugar strawberry torani syrup in that bitch to really make the strawberry pop, but turns out I didn't need it, but hey keep it in the back pocket if you like a lil fuckin strawberry in your strawberry, aye?)

Okay so next up you are gonna start making the FUCKING TIRAMISU! Heres what you need:

ALL THE REST OF THOSE FUCKING STRAWBERRIES

Vanilla wafers, I'm poor as fuck so I bought the amazon Happy Belly ones cause they are cheap af but you can do the like name brand ones if you're a fucking millionaire or some shit, or its like an anniversary or something, fucking splurge man, you fucking deserve it. Anyway, you are gonna need about 60 of those mother fuckers.

The rest of that goddamn cream!

Some sort of dish or dishes to put them in, I separate mine into two smaller rectangular dishes so i can freeze one for later (here's hoping it fucking works, I haven't fucking tried that before), but you can do it in one big one and have a great fucking week full of strawberry Tiramisu.

That big ass bowl of Strawberry Mascarpone cream.

Aight here we go, lets make this bitch: take those vanilla cookies and dip them in the cream and then layer the bottom of the pan for this, you want about one layer of them and then i just crumbled the shit out of some more and filled in cracks and spaces between the cookies with em and drizzled a lil cream in there. This will probably be about 15 cookies for two dishes and 30 or so for one dish.

Then you slice up some strawberries to whatever fucking thickness you like, and do a nice layer of those on top of the cookies.

Then you grab a fucking spoon and just spoon that shit onto the strawberries and spread it out nice and even (or not whatever, live your dreams). How much you use will depend on what kind of dishes you are working with. One dish? Half the fucking cream! Two dishes? One fourth the fucking cream in each. Get it? Got it. Good.

Dip some more fucking cookies in cream and do the same thing, layer them in there, crumble some more on top, I didn't pour any more cream on these ones but you probably could, idk, live your dream.

Another layer of sliced strawberries.

The rest of that fucking mascarpone strawberry cream!

Then I sliced some more strawberries on top again, but thats optional.

You probably have about idk 6-7 strawberries left from that 2 lbs pack, or less if you just packed those strawberries into that dish, good for you motherfucker, I love that for you!

Anywho, throw that shit in the fridge for a few hours or overnight or some shit and enjoy! 1/8th of the Tiramisu is a lil over 500 calories if you care about that shit.

[abiiors]

baking autumn treats 🍪 // george daniel x reader

promptober '23 - day 12

a/n: oh bbf!george how i've missed you <3 cw: weed, flirting wc: 900

george watches her move around the kitchen, absolutely focused on the bowl in her hand. she’s wearing an old apron—brown with a little bear on the pocket that currently holds her tasting spoon and an extra spatula—while she mixes together butter and sugar. 

that’s exactly why he wandered into the kitchen in the first place—when he smelled vanilla and cinnamon and things far more delicious than the cold slice of pizza in his hands. well, that and the half-smoked joint that has his head buzzing. 

but she hasn’t noticed him yet. no, she’s far too busy with her eyebrows pinched in concentration and her lip caught between her teeth as she measures the ingredients. the jar of apple jelly rests precariously close to the edge of the counter. and she’s so engrossed in whatever music she’s listening to (from her old and frayed wired headphones that she’s so emotionally attached to. seriously, george has actually see her be frantic when she thought they were lost.) but he feels caught between two worlds.

in one are matty and the rest of his friends in the living room, locked in an intense round of mortal kombat. in the other is she—baking in the warm kitchen and almost waltzing to herself to the tune of whatever music is playing.

and so george keeps watching from the threshold—so enamoured that he registers it too late when she takes a dazed little twirl and nudges the jar of apple jelly. in slow motion, it falls down. shatters into a million pieces. and jelly splatters everywhere. 

what’s worse however is how her face goes from having the look of excited concentration to one of pure heartbreak. so much so that he can’t help stepping forward. 

“need some help?”

she looks up from the ruined remains of the glass to him, already kneeling down to pick up the pieces and salvage whatever’s left (which is barely anything if he’s being honest.)

“um… not much you can help with,” she sighs, going back to it. when george steps closer to the wreck she looks at him again. “careful with the glass. don’t need you high and bleeding in my kitchen.”

“your kitchen?” he teases and then kneels down in front of her to start picking up some of the bigger chunks. 

with a slight smile she rolls her eyes. “i’m the only one in this house who actually uses it. me and my dad once in a blue moon i guess…” then she clicks her tongue, looking at him with a bit more interest. a bit more scrutiny. “shouldn’t you be outside with matty?”

does she not want him here? 

the thought sends a pang in his chest. here she is—the girl he’s kissed and slept with for fucks sake, all while hiding it from his best friend in the whole world. and he doesn’t even know what she is to him. matty’s little sister? a one night stand? his girlfriend? well that’s a word he certainly hasn’t used before…

“george?”

“yeah?”

she looks at him as if he’s grown two heads all of a sudden. “outside. your friends. my brother.”

“yeah, uh, yeah i was,” he clears his throat with some effort, putting another piece of glass onto the neat little pile next to her. “shouldn’t you be outside with us too? you love mortal kombat.”

“nah, not today,” she shrugs, “i just wanted some peace and quiet today. you lot make too much racket.”

“oh you are right there with us, yelling and screaming when you get into it!” he teases again and she laughs at him. 

he can smell the sweetness that clings to her—sugar and vanilla and cinnamon. something that matches her so perfectly. and once again he goes back to that night, to the taste of her skin and the feel of her body against his own. absolutely fucking perfect. 

his thoughts are about to run absolutely wild when she hisses and abruptly drops a chunk of glass, involuntarily lifting her finger up to her mouth. 

the edge of the piece she just dropped is tinged with red. 

“show me!” he’s alert in an instant, grabbing her wrist and pulling her finger away from her mouth to inspect it. he frowns when he sees the tiny bleeding cut. 

it’s only shallow, just skin deep, but it’s still bleeding. 

“it’s just a nick, george,” she supresses a laugh but when he looks up at her again, her eyes have gone soft. there’s almost a tender expression on her face if he really wants to delude himself. 

so he lamely let’s go of her, nodding absently. 

it’s just a nick. yeah, of course it is. 

“what were you going to do? kiss it better?”

his eyes widen in surprise at her so openly referencing it when she’s rarely done it before. she’s flirting with him! is she flirting with him? something warm fills his stomach—something that very suspiciously feels like hope. 

and so he grins at her, trying to suppress his shyness. “can i sweetheart? kiss you?”

it’s such a risky ask. everyone is right there! right outside the door! and anyone could walk in on them—heads bent together, sitting so close that he only has to lean a few inches to kiss her. and yet none of those thoughts take precedence. all that matters to him is the way she smiles shyly. and then leans forward to bridge those few inches between them. 

lemme know what you think <;33

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[aestheticpearl]

— 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭

[𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔] d.a.m.n squad

“listen eating cheetos with chopsticks just make the most sense, that way you don’t get the cheese dust all over your fingers” you try to back up your strange habit while reaching in the bag for more.

“what?! dude the cheese dust getting on your fingers is like the best part!” you shake your head at huxley.

“bro your gonna give someone a yeast infection one day” gavin holds back a laugh at your brutal comment.

“hey man i wash my hands!”

“huxley i had to remind you to brush your teeth this morning” damien cuts in and huxley scratches the back of his head.

“it may have slipped my mind” you shake your head and continue picking through the bag while watching lasko and damien game on the tv.

“hey can i have one?” gavin whispers and you lean the bag towards him. “feed me?” you roll your eyes and pick one up to feed him.

“mmm you love me~”

“yeah i know don’t remind me” you watch as gavin pokes at lasko to break him from his concentration, he yelps and damien takes the chance to win finally.

“gavin!”

“whaaa? just making it interesting”

“lasko come with me to kitchen, i wanna start on those cupcakes now or they’ll never get done” you shove the bag and chopsticks you had into gavin’s chest and he lets out an oof and takes the items. you get up and take lasko’s hand and guide him into the kitchen.

“uh i wanna thank you again for hosting this uh um”

“slumber party”

“y-yeah that, thank you”

“it’s my pleasure i love having you guys over and i’m super excited to have you all sleep over” you flash a smile at him and lasko feels his heart squeeze. “hux and damien will probably sleep together on the pull out couch, you’re welcome to sleep with gavin and i”

lasko can feel his face flush at the offer, you can’t help but smile as you start pulling out the bowls and measuring cups.

“can you grab the eggs?”

“oh y-yeah sure”

“thank you~ go ahead and crack those into a bowl, i’ll start mixing” you instruct as you start pouring the mix together.

“got room for one more to join? damien and hux started to suck face”

“r-really?!”

“nah but i could sense that wanted to so i’m giving them some privacy” gavin says before walking over and wrapping his arms around you from behind. “whatcha making my little freelancer?”

“we are making red velvet cupcakes”

“sounds yummy, but not as yummy as—”

“ahem, we are not the only two in here gav” you say sternly.

“i’m aware” gavin says while starting to plant kisses on your neck.

“gav” you say in a warning tone that’s barley about a whisper.

“alright alright” he says finally letting up. “lasko you wanna get in on this?” lasko’s face heats up once more as he faces down to focus on prepping the cupcake tray.

after putting the cupcakes in the oven you all go back to the living room to help set up the pull out couch and set up a movie. huxley had damien to snuggle up with and lasko watched as you laid back in gavin’s lap. you noticed his anxiousness and opened your arms for him, he glad took your invitation and you instantly started played with his hair.

“hey scooch i wanna be party of the cuddle party” you giggle and open your arm for huxley to move both damien and himself into your side.

“my legs are getting crushed”

“suffer” you smile up at gavin as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“anything for you”

you sigh happily at the pile of friends you have as you watch them watch the movie you put on. you can never express how grateful you are for them to be in your life.

“i love you guys”

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

eat cheetos with chopsticks it will change your life i swear it

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

.harry’s house masterlist

[qwerty-between-the-lines]

Announcer: ...and our four contestants are ready. They will have 1 hour to put together their dishes. Before we get started, let's go to the floor and put our contestants in the hotseat.

Interviewer: First up, hailing from the US's very own NYC. Perseus ssss Jackson! How are you feeling, Percy?

Percy: I'm doing alright, thanks.

Interviewer: What do you have planned for the judges today?

Percy: I'm doing seafood.

Announcer: Seafood. No surprises from the son of Poseidon. Let's go now to Leo Valdez.

Interviewer: Hailing from the southern metropolis of Houston, Texas. It's the senior counselor of the Hephaestus cabin at Camp Half-Blood. Give it up for Leo Valdez!

Leo: WASSUP everybody!?

Interviewer: You seem excited.

Leo: Nah, that's just how I roll. I'd like to take a moment to say - let's everybody do the Team Leo!

Interviewer: What you have planned for us Leo?

Leo: Hispanic food! I do it best...

Interviewer: Confident, ain't he?

Announcer: That's Leo Valdez, folks. Now we go to our third contestant.

Interviewer: Let's all put our hands together for Athena's own daughter, Annabeth Chase. How're you feeling Annabeth?

Annabeth: I'm feeling great.

Interviewer: Psyched to win it?

Annabeth: You know it!

Interviewer: What are you cooking up for us today?

Annabeth: I'm doing desserts.

Announcer: Desserts! A bold choice from the daughter of Athena. Time will tell if Annabeth's desserts blow the judges away and send her home with the grand prize. Now let's go to our last contestant.

Interviewer: Our last contestant is His Grace, the Ambassador of Hades. The Ghost King himself. Nico di Angelo! How are you doing Nico?

Nico: Okay, I guess...

Interviewer: What are you cooking up for us?

Nico: I'm doing dishes with black ingredients.

Announcer: Another bold choice from this son of Hades. I think it is safe to say that our judges can look forward to a diverse spread of food at the end of the night. Now, let's get it started. One hour on the clock! Contestants... GO!

Percy

-starts placing large lettuce leaves on plates

-chops up onions

-dices potatoes

-cuts deboned fish into thin slices

-squeezes mayo into a bowl

-finely chops up two whole dill pickles

-measures out 1/4 cup of lemon juice

Announcer: I think it seems obvious that the son of Poseidon is preparing some kind of fish dish and tartar sauce, but what are the diced potatoes and onions for? It's anyone's guess, folks.

Leo

-chops up two tomatoes and two bell peppers

-opens two cans of refried beans

-starts rolling out corn flour flat

-starts ground pork to frying on low heat

-makes a four-cheese blend

Announcer: Leo appears to have two dishes underway already. One is probably tacos, but the corn flour is an interesting choice. What's he doing now?

Interviewer: Can you tell us what you're planning with the corn flour?

Leo: Sure. I'm making pupusas.

Announcer: ...and it is! Pupusas! A rather unexpected pleasure for our judges.

Annabeth

-whips up chocolate pudding mix

-crushes up graham crackers

-starts whipping cream

-breaks 3 eggs into a bowl

-starts adding two tablespoons of peanut butter,

Announcer: It looks like the daughter of Athena might be making peanut butter cookies. Clearly the pudding and the graham crackers are intended for something else. What could the whipped cream be for?

Nico

-stirs together blackberries, amaretto, and corn starch in a bowl

-sets premade pie crust on the counter

-starts black beans on low in a food processer

-starts melting cheese

-slices up two egg plants

-pours rice into rice cooker

Announcer: The son of Hades is fast on his feet. Watch him go folks! He already has what appears to be at least three dishes in the works. It's a little early to call, but the competition starts with Nico clearly in the lead.

(in audience) Will: Go Nico! Yeah!

[dancingtotuyo]

Scathed (Javier Peña) Chapter 4

As my friend Ashley put it, "The hip really is the main character."

Comments are always welcome! I love hearing your thoughts and reactions!

Rating: Mature (Again probably more like pg-13 but with language)

Chapter Warnings: death, celebration of death (Padblo Escobar's), brief mentions of the violence in Colombia, mentions (no descriptions) of rape, kidnapping, & abuse. Mentions of power dynamics and underage- age gap, anxious stream of consciousness, anxiety/panic attack

Words: 2,817

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry December 3, 1993

Pablo Escobar was killed yesterday. Dad’s having guys from the office come over tonight for drinks.

It seems weird to celebrate death like this, but I also understand it. Escobar was responsible for the death of countless people. I wonder if I would sleep better at night if Mig He was dead.  

 “Emily, can you grab the poppers out of the oven?” Anna asked as she busied herself over a mixing bowl.

 “Yeah, of course.” Emily threw on the oven mitts. “Is Dad expecting the entire DEA or something?”

 “Or something,” Anna sighed. “You’d think it was Thanksgiving or something. I think he thinks this will double as the office Christmas party.”

 “Good, one less thing to host.” Emily rolled her eyes. “Speaking of which, this is his party, where is he?”

 “He’s out grilling.” Anna pushed two pans of dessert into the fridge to set. “Have you decided if you’re going to stay out with us? I know these aren’t your favorite things.”

 Emily shrugged. “I might, but I know there’ll be a lot of shop talk.”

 “Kids all taken care of?”

 “Ale and Miguelito are at Jen’s for the night and Mateo is out with the sitter. I think they were going to the movies. I’m sure he’ll be passed out when they get back.”

 “Don’t push yourself, okay? Choose what’s going to make you enjoy the night best. You don’t get the night off very often.”

 Emily nodded. “At the very least, I’m going to eat some of this delicious food.” She grabbed a cracker off the plate Anna was working on. She smacked Emily’s hand.

“Emily Louise, párale!”

Emily grinned. “Tengo hambre, mamá.”

Anna rolled her eyes, but Emily could see the smile threatening to break on her face. Anna always smiled when Emily referred to her as mom. She swiped another cracker. Anna pinched at Emily’s side hitting her ticklish spot. She jerked back in laughter.

Someone knocked on the door. Anna frowned. “No one is supposed to be here for 30 minutes.”

 “I’ll get it. There’s no way it’s anyone from the DEA. They’re always late.” Emily headed for the door. “I’m guessing it’s the babysitter. Mateo probably left something behind.”

 She checked out the window. It wasn’t the babysitter. Her eyes fell on a pair of too-tight jeans and a hand resting on a popped-out hip. She opened the door. “Javier?”

 He looked almost surprised to see her. “Emily, Hi.” He wore a dark leather jacket and a flannel that was appropriately buttoned for once.  

 “I didn’t know my dad invited you.”

 “It’s good to see you too.” His lips tipped up.

 “Sorry, that was rude. Come on in.” She stepped aside. “You’re early.”

 “I can leave and come back if you want.” He pointed toward the door.

 Emily sighed, fighting back her smile. “Nah, we’ll just put you to work.”

 “No, we will not! He is our guest!” Anna called from the kitchen.

 “I didn’t know she could hear us.”

 Javier lowered his tone. “She sounds stressed.”

 Emily matched his volume. “She is.”

 Their shared laughter turned into awkwardness that hung above them like a cloud. It was a weird thing to open up to a person and then not talk for a while. What do you say? Thanks for listening to my trauma. The right words felt unachievable.

 “My dad is out back. You can put the whiskey in the kitchen.”

 “I was planning to hold onto this all night. No need to dirty a cup. It is a celebration you know…”

 “Yeah.” She forced a smile. It didn’t convince either of them.

...

 “Okay, okay,” Walt Breslin spoke, hushing the small group of agents. One would’ve thought the group was much larger from their sheer volume. He raised his cup in the air. “To another motherfuckin’ drug trafficker in the grave.”

 “Here, here.” The group chorused. Glasses clinked against each other. Discussion rose up.

 Emily stared at the group from a distance, her back pressed to the wall. The label of her soda felt gritty under the back and forth of her finger. They wore satirically large grins on their faces as if they’d chased after Escobar themselves. Yet the one person who had, wasn’t even with the group. She didn’t know where Javier had disappeared to, only that he was still here. His leather jacket hung by the door, and she could just see his untouched bottle of whiskey on the end of the kitchen counter.

 Fucking Walt Breslin. He couldn’t stand that he was stateside when he-who-shall-not-be-named was arrested, and now Javier was here the night they were celebrating Escobar’s death. It must have been driving him mad.

 In all fairness, Emily didn’t think Walt was a bad guy, but she felt uncomfortable around him more so than she did the other men her dad worked with. Walt knew most of the truth. Her father’s right-hand man, he was on the tarmac when her plane landed in Texas that night. He knew the parentage of her children and whose bed she’d warmed. She felt that judgment from him, whether it was there or not.

 She’d hit her limit. If she hung out here much longer, she’d be fighting an anxiety attack, even now her chest ached with tension. She disappeared down the dark hallway toward her room. Emily pulled the crochet blanket she made off her bed and around her shoulders. She slipped past the intoxicated DEA agents and out the back door, grabbing Javier’s bottle of whiskey on her way out. The door shut behind her and all was right in the world.

 “We have to stop meeting like this.”

 The whiskey bottle hit the group. She jumped to avoid getting her toes smashed. “Fuck. You gotta stop scaring the shit out of me, Javier.”

 “How else am I supposed to let you know I’m out here?”

 Emily rolled her eyes as she felt around for the bottle. Her fingers connected with the cool glass. It was surprisingly still intact.

 She walked over to Javier. A cigarette glowed between his fingers. “Careful with my whiskey.”

 He sat on the bench swing, her spot. It was big enough for two, but just two. If she sat, their shoulders would touch, probably their legs too.

 “Y’all’s patio furniture is more comfortable than ours. This one has a cushion for my ass.”  He wiggled in his seat for emphasis. “I gotta get me some of these.”

 Emily plucked the cigarette from his grasp. She savored the pull before handing it back to Javier.

 “Please help yourself.”

 “You were going to offer anyway.”

 “Would be rude not to.”

 Emily twisted the top off the whiskey. She brought the bottle to her lips and took a long sip.

 Javier’s eyes widened, the moonlight flickered off of them as he did. “I was going to say that you look like you’re doing well.”

 She removed her lips with a pop. The whiskey sloshed within the glass bottle. “You look like shit.”

 “Would you like a glass?”

 “No need to dirty a cup.” Her lips ticked upward.

  He shook his head, putting the cigarette between his lips.  She tipped the bottle back again.

 “Might wanna slow down there. It’s a school night.”

 Emily stopped. She cocked her head to the side and just looked at Javier. So much of the time, she felt like a newborn foal, timid and shaky on its legs. Something else was growing inside her. She felt like an untamed horse, wild and reckless, stomping down fear and anxiety. Maybe it was the whiskey or maybe frustrations outran her anxiety for once. She did something that terrified her. She plopped herself down on the bench swing next to Javier.

 Their shoulders brushed and she let them, separated by the thick crochet blanket hanging around her shoulders. It helped. She crossed her legs so they didn't touch him. Javier looked at her. She kept her eyes straight ahead.

 “Why aren’t you celebrating?” She pulled the bottle back to her lips.

 “I am.”

 “No.” Emily looked at him. “You’re sulking.”

 Javier sighed. He grabbed the whiskey bottle from Emily’s hands. He drank from the bottle looking at her the whole time.

 “Thought it would feel different…” He handed the bottle back to her. “But people are still dead. Nothing is going to change that.” He closed his eyes, pictures flashing behind his eyelids. So many people. He ran a hand through his hair. Some he’d been responsible for, people he knew.

 “I don’t think true justice exists…” She picked at the whiskey label. “He would’ve died thousands of deaths in all the ways he ordered it. He’d know all the pain and grief and trauma and all of its intricacies that he’s responsible for inflicting.”

 Emily lifted the bottle. Javier stopped her. He took it and set it on the ground. She stared at her empty hands

 “Do you wish He was dead?”

 They were no longer talking about Escobar.

 “Sometimes I think it would help. I always hear he was brought to justice. He’s going to rot in prison for what he did.” Her hands shook. She clenched them. “But not for kidnapping, or abuse, or rape-” Her eyes turned glassy.

 Javier sucked in. He’d assumed. It wasn’t a stretch by any means, but hearing it struck something deep down.

 “It’s okay that my story isn’t known. I prefer it that way, and I know there’s a slim chance he’d actually be convicted of anything he did to me, but there’s not a lot of closure because of it.”

 “I think closure is a scam because if this is it, it sucks.” Javier picked the bottle back up. He gave it to her first.

 She thanked him as she tipped it back. “If you want to get real existential about it, they’re all just made-up concepts: justice, closure, and all their friends.”

 He took the liquor. “That hurts my head.”

 Emily laughed. “I know.”

 Cicadas sang around them. Emily picked up on the faint sound of laughter inside the house.  

 “How-” Javier stopped himself. It wasn’t his place to ask.

 “Hmmm?”

 “Nothing, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

 Emily bit her lip. “Were you going to ask how it happened?”

 Javier looked away. He felt bad for bringing it up.

 “It’s okay… It piques curiosity.”

 “It seems like something you don’t like to talk about.”

 She took a deep breath. “I was 15. My mom took us on vacation to Mexico. We stayed in the hotel He owned. My mother was all too thrilled when the rich hotel owner started taking a liking to me, and I-” her voice quivered. She picked at her jeans. “I was too young to know any better.”

 She slid her palm in a long single motion down her thigh. Javier could only imagine the pictures running through her mind.

 “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

 She shook her head. Her motions continued. She was quickly drifting away from this. Her breathing quickened.

 “Give me your hand.” He held out his hand.

 She stilled, staring at it like it was a grenade. She could feel the warmth from it, but he didn’t touch her. Her lungs trapped the air in her chest. He looked at her for permission. She managed the briefest nod and extended her hand.

 His thumbs dug into her palm. It almost hurt, but not quite. It brought her off the edge saving her from falling into a cloud of memories.

 He lowered their hands just above her knee. His fingers edged over her jeans. He could feel her muscles move and twitch beneath him. He gently increased the pressure. Her knee stopped bouncing. Her shoulders dropped, and her lungs released.

 His thumb moved back and forth with long, firm strokes. It grounded her, made her feel less detached from the world, and chased the panic away.

 Javier’s eyes were still trained on her. She looked at him. The words came out quiet. “Thank you.”

 He nodded. “Feel better?”

 Every voice in her head screamed and fought, but her body relaxed. “Yeah.”

 He didn’t move his hand, and she didn’t want him to. They stared up at the December sky. Javier slowly eased his motions until his fingers stilled against her jeans. The whiskey hummed through her body, making everything feel warm around her.

 She tilted her head to the side. “How is it that you know exactly how to handle me?”

 “Handle you?” Javier’s lips ticked upward.

 “You know what I mean.”

 He took a moment to contemplate his answer. His forefinger thumped against her kneecap. Emily watched it. She still couldn’t believe her body allowed this to happen. She felt a little less broken.

 “I know we went through different things, but-” He stopped. They locked eyes. “People should make sure you’re okay.”

 “I’m never okay, Javier.”

 “I know.”

 “Neither are you.”

 He looked back at the stars. His Adam's apple bobbed. His hand disappeared from her knee leaving a rush of cold in its wake.

 “I’m not a good person.”

 “So you’ve said.”

 “You don’t believe it?”

 “You know what I think.”  

 “My family thinks I’m this big hero.”

 “Do you want to be a hero?” Emily wrapped the thick blanket tighter around herself. She shifted and their contact lessened.

 Javier bit his lip. “I want to do things the right way.”

 “You want to go back.”

 “I don’t know.”

 “I can see it. You’re already thinking about who’s going to pick up where Escobar left off.”

 Javier bristled. “And what are you thinking about?” It came out a little shorter than he wanted it to.

 Emily took it in stride. “Right now, I’m thinking that I can still hear everyone in the house which means no one is missing us, but nobody’s left. I know that Mateo is sound asleep in his bed. That I should probably go check on him. Not because I think there’s anything wrong, but because there’s this all-consuming need to lay eyes on him so that I can assure myself everything is right. Ale and Miguelito are gone for the night. They’re with people I trust implicitly, but I’m still expecting the phone to ring and say something has happened.”

 Javier bit his lip.

 “On a normal day, I’m wondering if Felix will get out and try to get us back. I’m not that far from the border, or will it be someone coming after us because they don’t want a child of His posing a threat.” The words tumbled out in growing succession. “Or maybe they’ll get bored and do it just for fun. Maybe it’s all irrational because we’ve been here for so long, and many of the people who know about us are dead, but what if someone has kept tabs on us all this time? What if I can’t get better? What if I get worse and I can’t be there for my kids? How can I be a good mother when I don't even feel like a whole-”

 He reached for her knee again. Emily smacked it away. “Just because you’ve touched me once doesn’t mean you can do it again, Javier Peña.” She sprung off the seat, her chest heaving. Wildness burned in her eyes. It was getting harder to pull air in.

 “Shit.” She sank to the ground. Her chest ached as she struggled to breathe. She pulled the blanket tight for pressure as she curled into a ball. Her eyes squeezed shut as she focused on her breathing. It wasn’t getting any easier.

 Javier was trained to handle crises to operate under pressure, but he froze. His hands were useless. His feet carried him through the backdoor.

 Anna was in the kitchen drying dishes. “Javier? I didn’t know you were still here.”

 “Umm.” He pointed haphazardly toward the backyard. Why was he out of breath?

 “What’s wrong?” Anna set the dishes down.

 His tongue felt heavy and dry in his mouth, unable to form shapes and sounds. Laughter roared like a freight train from the living room.

 “Javier,” Anna said firmly. It snapped through the fog.

 “Emily.”

 Anna’s eyes darted toward the door. “Shit..” She moved instantly. “Panic attack?”

 “I-” was that what it was? How was he supposed to know what a panic attack looked like? “I think-”

 Anna was already out the door. He followed her tracks.

 He watched as Anna kneeled beside her. He couldn’t hear what she said in Emily’s ear. She didn’t move. Anna rubbed her hands over Emily’s back. Javier lost track of how long he watched. She eventually rested her head on Anna's lap. He imagined the tears on her cheeks, but he knew they were there.

 He’d done that. He’d pushed her.

 Guilt settled on his shoulders. Just another weight to carry.

 Javier slipped out the back gate

[manestjerne]

Let me save you pt. ll

Juice Ortiz x female reader 

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: mention of a toxic relationship 

My day off went by fast, I should’ve go get some groceries but instead I just spent the whole day in bed and ordered a takeout. I had no break in a week, so felt like I could use a lazy day. Reading a book under covers with a cup of hot coffee was one of my favorite ways to relax. I completely ignored the „baby, where are you? Are you running from me? What’s wrong?” texts from my ex’s new account. It’s not possible to block him so I can just pretend I don’t know what’s going on. The next day I took a shower in the morning, ate a bowl of cereal and enjoyed my free half of the day by playing some video games. When it was time to leave I went to grab my car keys, but then I remembered. Fuck, I was supposed to get some gas yesterday. After a quick fight with myself I chose to just walk there, it was about 15 minutes, and my shift started in 20. Yeah, that’s better. For me and the damn environment. I grabbed my purse and and left for work. On my way there I saw a cat sitting beside the sidewalk, so of course I had to go there and pet it, how could I just ignore that cutie? But that wasn’t a cutie.

- Ah you nasty bitch - the cat bit me and scratched half of my arm - Let go!

When I got free from the attacker I moved on looking in my bag for some tissues to wipe the drops of blood. Don’t pet stray cats ever again. Got it.

After cleaning the rest of my arm from blood I got behind a bar and started my routine by cleaning. Every time I heard the door opening I stealthily looked that way wishing Juice would come in, but he didn’t. Instead of him I saw Joe. Joe was one of our regulars, but he was a total prick. We all tried to ignore it and just serve him, but my day started bad enough, I didn’t have the patience to serve him now.

- Nat, your boy is here, come on - I yelled at the back door, waiting for her to appear.

She stood there so happy I almost felt bad doing that, but then I remembered every time she used me to deal with rude customers, so I just smiled.

- Oh, are you kidding me? I’m not-

- Sorry darling, I need to bring some coke from the back.

- There’s enough in the fridge!

- Yeah, remember last week, when you made me play pool with those creeps? You owe me one.

She still looked pissed.

- What about when some guys were fighting over that redhead? Or when I ha-

- Alright, alright. Go and hide, pussy.

Hanging out behind those magic doors was the best thing to do when something bad happened out front. Our boss didn’t really care, if the money was good one of us could literally go out and he wouldn’t give a shit. I saw a perfect opportunity. A whole lot of bottles were sitting on the floor, that’s the job for me, let’s put them away on the shelves. I had about two hours before the biggest crowd show up, so I decided to just stay there, coming out once in a while to bring Nat some more ice or sodas.

- Could you stand behind the bar for a minute? I need to call my mom.

Just 5 minutes, nothing bad can happen. I started pouring beers and mixing drinks, 10 pm and it was still quiet, but some of them have already had enough drinks. A guy tried to toss me a glass, he sat just two stools away from me, but refused to get up. I wanted to catch the sliding glass but it fell over and everything inside it went straight on my top. There wasn’t much left, about two melted ice cubes and a sip of cuba libre, but it was enough to get me wet.

- Oh shit, I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that.

- It’s alright, don’t worry.

It wasn’t, but what could I do? Can this day get any worse? I went behind the magic door and Nat was just putting her phone in a back pocket.

- Shit, what happened?

- You have a spare t-shirt I could borrow?

- No, sorry. Is it that wet?

- Nah, I look like a three year old who just ate noodle soup and smell like rum, but it’s fine.

- Just try to get it off, I can go back there.

Yeah, water didn’t help with the coke stain on my white shirt, so I decided to just keep stocking the bottles up. After only a few minutes I heard Nat.

- Hey y/n. Now your boy is here.

I rolled my eyes, pulled my pants up as much as possible to hide the stain and went through the door, ready to see a whole crowd of people, but it was shockingly quiet.

- What happened?

She just smiled, I looked around trying to find what’s wrong when I saw him.

- You know him? - I asked trying not to look at him

- Nah, but he came here yesterday, looking for you.

- Wait, you were here yesterday?

- Yeah, Laura told me you two had a hard Wednesday and wanted me to cover her. He’s cute.

- A little, but I’m not sure about that.

- Just give it a try, you’re so stressed, a dick would help.

- Oh shut up - I said when he sat on the stool across me - What can I get you?

- Just a beer - he smiled and put his phone on the bar

- What are you doing here, Juice? - I asked while pouring his drink - Another bad day?

- Yeah, stepped in on my way home.

- You live here?

- Not quite. You look like you had a bad day, what’s that? - he pointed at the stain on my stomach

- Oh yeah, very funny - but the words came out softly, not as rough my thoughts, I realized I’m not as stressed anymore

- No, seriously. Maybe you should drink with a straw next time.

I rolled my eyes handing him a beer.

- Trust me, if I had something else to wear I would put in on, but I came here on foot today. I left my spare clothes in the car, wasn’t expecting a cuba libre landing on my white shirt.

- I can borrow you a shirt - his voice was so soft, didn’t match his appearance

- Well, I don’t know you.

- It’s not a promise ring, just a shirt, and I have a jumper on, trust me I won’t freeze. But if you want to look like a three year old, then-

- Okay, that’s enough - I squinted my eyes - I’ll take it.

He smiled and went to the bathroom, came back a minute later with a white t-shirt in his hand.

- But watch out, I don’t have another one.

- Very funny - I said and went to the back

I finished changing when Nat came in with an empty keg.

- Wow, what’s that? - she asked pointing at my hand - And whose shirt is that? Oh my! You got it from the cute gangster, didn’t you?

- Stop yelling and change the keg, in 15 minutes we won’t have time for that.

I went to the tables and started collecting empty glasses, after wiping the tables I moved to the bar and wanted to get Juice’s glass but froze when he gently stroke my hand.

- What’s that?

- A scratch? - I said with fake disbelief in my eyes, trying to play it cool

- What happened?

- It’s nothing, I cleaned it already, I’m a nurse, remember? - but he acted like he didn’t hear me

- You okay? Who did this to you? - I couldn’t help but started laughing - hey, what’s so funny?

- I saw a cat on my way here… - his faced relaxed in a moment

- Natalie, could you please help me? Sure y/n, enjoy your date and I’ll serve everyone else, don’t worry - I heard a voice behind my back

- Am I interrupting you? - Juice asked nervously looking at my coworker

- Don’t worry, she’s just playing. They actually pay me for entertaining guests.

- So you’re entertaining me?

- If I’m not then why would you come back?

I felt a phone buzzing in my back pocket. I took it out to check who’s calling, but when I saw my ex’s name I quickly put it away. Yeah, whatsapp, I haven’t used it in years.

- You can’t use your phone at work?

- Of course I can, just didn’t want to pick up - I smiled trying to look as calm as possible

- Can I get your number then?

- What for?

- Well, you have my shirt

- Well - I smiled - but it’s not a promise ring, remember?

He looked me for a second not saying anything. I went to serve another guest, still smiling. When I came back after a while he took one of his rings of and gave it to me.

- And what’s that?

- A promise ring, so let me start again. Can I get your number? - I laughed at loud this time, took his phone and wrote my number down, putting his ring in my pocket - unbelievable…..

Rest of the night went by pretty fast, as always during the weekend, but this time my smile wasn’t a „customer smile”, it was real, whole damn night. I didn’t care about rude customers, I didn’t get mad when they whistled at me, I didn’t care about young boys hitting up on me. I didn’t, because I could feel him staring at me the whole time. There wasn’t much time when I could talk to him, but he still stayed, sitting at the bar all alone. People finally started to leave, so I used a moment to go back behind the bar.

- You want a lift home?

- Nah, I’m good.

- What about all the bad guys out there? And bad cats… - he smiled - you sure you want to go on foot?

I heard a phone buzzing, but this time it wasn’t mine. Juice’s phone was still on the counter. I caught myself staring at it so I looked away quickly. Jax doesn’t sound like a girls name, that’s good. He put his phone down after a minute and looked at me.

- What time do you finish?

- In 20 minutes, why?

- I can still give you a ride home.

- Don’t worry, I actually need a walk, I’ll be fine. Your boyfriend probably needs you more than me if he’s calling that late.

- You sure? - he smiled

- Yup, go home. See you - I didn’t mean to say that, felt my cheeks getting red, he just gave me a warm smile

- Get home safe, okay?

- Okay - I said, my cheeks were burning at this point

He left with a smile on his face and I was just standing there, looking at the door.

- Hey y/n, can I get another one?

- No Joe, we’re closing in 15 minutes - I said not even looking his way

My walk home was scarier than ever before, but I knew it was only because of what Juice said. When I got home I took a shower, ate some leftover pizza and got ready to go to bed. I looked at the pile of clothes tossed on the chair. Took the borrowed shirt with some other white stuff I could find and put in in the washer. I wanted to do laundry tomorrow anyways. Then I picked up my jeans and took the ring out of a pocket. I looked closely and saw „Sons of Anarchy” engraved on it. Well, a promise ring from a biker, that’s funny. I put it on my necklace and went to bed when I realized how much my head hurts and how tired I am. I refused to get up to get some painkillers. I got a text message, probably from Nat or my ex, so I ignored it. This can wait ’till morning. Another one. God. Then my phone started ringing. With my eyes closed I picked it up ready to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone.

- Hey, sorry, were you sleeping? - I opened my eyes, his voice as soft and worried as when he saw my arm

- What? No, I- I was making dinner, sorry. What’s up?

- I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.

- I’m okay. Thanks Juice.

- Wonderful, goodnight y/n, you should get some sleep.

- Goodnight.

He hung up, but I couldn’t close my eyes now, I wasn’t expecting that. My headache was gone and suddenly I was not sleepy at all, so I got up and made myself some tea.

[laurfilijames]

Hi! From the WIP Asks, can I ask #7: What is your favorite scene you’ve written so far?

Thank you for sending in this ask @justreblogginfics ! 💗

It was really difficult to choose just one scene from Like My Dreams as I truly love every single part I've written so far, but I managed to narrow it down to this one scene in Part 3 where Pete and reader share their first kiss.

It's all new and exciting and sweet, and I really loved describing Pete's flat and all the things he has in it and the curiosity of them learning more about each other.

Here is the scene if anyone wants to swoon with me:

You loved it from the moment you stepped a foot inside; his flat homey and welcoming, filled floor to ceiling with all the things that held importance to him and helped make up who he was.

West Ham paraphernalia was scattered everywhere, alternating between band posters and shelves and cabinets containing CD's, books and records, the little spaces left fitting in the necessary everyday items, making it clear what held the most importance to him.

Your fingers slid across each record as you scanned over his collection, reading the familiar names of all the same bands you loved and had listened to your whole life, the edges of each sleeve worn from use and time.

"A lot of those were Dad's," he explained, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You turned your head to look at him, a sort of solemn expression present on his face.

"Steve was pissed that he'd left them all to me, but they wouldn't have gone with that wanker's stuffy, modern decor," he laughed. "It's been close to twenty years, and I still feel close to him whenever I play them."

"That's really nice, Pete," you said, smiling at him before stepping over to one of his book shelves, stooping and tilting your head to see the titles. You pulled one off the shelf and flipped through it, the musty scent a welcomed one, and your heart swelled when you came upon his notes scribbled across some of the pages. Tucking it back in its place, you breathed in and continued to look around, admiring the varied compilation of things accumulated over the years that told the story of him and put on display a physicality of his personality, his character portrayed in all the words in those books and lyrics in the music he listened to.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, watching you from across the counter that he leaned against.

"Hmm? Yeah," you replied, your answer somewhat distracted as you were lost thinking about how perfect he was and how you longed to know everything about him. "Is there anything I can help with?"

Pete frowned and shook his head, unfolding his arms from his chest as he stirred the noodles floating in the bubbling water. "Nah, you're alright. You just stay there and continue to give me something nice to look at."

The wink he shot you went straight to your core, finding yourself unable to do as you were told as you slowly made your way around the counter and into the kitchen with him, standing as close to him as you could get. You picked up the bunch of fresh basil sitting beside the bowl of freshly grated parmesan and began to carefully tear each of the leaves into small pieces, the fragrant herb mixing in with the intoxicating smell of garlic and tomatoes, your arms brushing against each other as you both worked.

"I'm happy you're here," Pete whispered, glancing over at you, licking his lips while his blue eyes held an intensity you hadn't seen in them yet.

"Thank you for having me."

You hadn't noticed your hands halting in their duty, letting the leaves you held fall onto the counter as you turned your body to face Pete while he did the same.

The brightest smile spread across his cheeks, his hands reaching up to cup your face, and still smiling, he leaned into you and gently met your lips with his, a light chuckle sounding from him as he kissed you.

You couldn't stop the soft moan that passed through your mouth as he continued to tease your lips with his, carefully exploring and tasting and feeling you against him, the dizziness you felt when you closed your eyes and let yourself melt into the moment not on account of your lingering concussion.

Pete inhaled deeply, his fingers tightening their hold on your cheeks ever so slightly as he breathed you in, deepening his kiss before pulling away.

The way he looked at you as he licked his lips had you wanting to feel his tongue against yours again, but seeing his satisfied and entirely sweet smile made you hesitant to want to miss such a view in exchange for his craveable kiss.

"I couldn't wait to do that," you admitted, your tone breathy.

He smirked, his thumbs grazing your skin as his gaze dropped to your mouth, "Me neither."

Pete flicked the burners off on the stove and gave the sauce a quick stir before turning his attention back to you.

"Now forgive me, because I don't think I'll be able to stop."

It was your turn to smile and laugh as he captured your lips with his again, more boldly this time, your hands roaming his body as his wrapped around your back and pulled you closer into him.

[steddie-as-they-come]

blame it all on human nature - chapter 4

ao3 link || part one

☆Sunday, April 6th, 1986☆

Eddie wakes up to Steve trying to move around the room quietly. He sits up. “Steve?” he says groggily, rubbing his eyes.

Steve freezes, then slumps. “Morning, Eddie. Sorry if I woke you.”

Eddie waves it off, yawning. “‘S fine. Why are you up this early?” He squints at the rosy light coming in through the cracks in the window blinds.

“Mike’s birthday is tomorrow. April seventh.” Steve tells him. “But because it’s a school day tomorrow, I was thinking we could celebrate today. Me ‘n Rob don’t have work.”

Eddie hops up and stretches, padding after Steve in his socks. “So where are you going?” he asks quietly. 

“Making a cake for him.” Steve says. “I wanna surprise him when they all come downstairs.” 

Eddie holds his breath and his response until they get downstairs, then lets it out. “Sucks he’s gotta have his sweet sixteen in the middle of all-” he waves his hands. “This.” 

“You planning on helping me make the cake?” Steve asks as they walk softly into the kitchen. 

“I would,” Eddie shrugs, “but I think I’m legally obligated to give you a warning that Wayne actually banned me from the kitchen because I kept forgetting to turn off the stove.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Of course you are.” He starts to gather cake supplies from around his kitchen. “Eddie, can you move?” he asks. 

Eddie realizes he’s right in front of the fridge. “Shit, sorry.” he says, and moves around the island in the center of the room.

“Thanks,” Steve says, grabbing eggs, milk, and butter from the fridge. He places them on the island, walks around, and comes face-to-face with Eddie again. “Hey, can you, uh-?”

Eddie snickers and moves again. Steve grabs measuring cups, puts them on the island, and Eddie’s immediately in his way. Again. 

They both giggle. Eddie never thought Steve Harrington would make him honest-to-god giggle . 

“Okay, this isn’t working,” Steve says, and for a fleeting moment, Eddie thinks Steve’s gonna kick him out of the kitchen.

Instead, Steve braces his hands around Eddie’s waist and lifts him, setting him on top of the counter. “Better. Stay out of my way.” he instructs Eddie, walking off like he didn’t just single-handedly reshape Eddie’s sexuality. 

Oh. 

Oh.

Eddie knew he liked guys. 

He didn’t know he liked Steve .

Steve looks back at him. “Eddie? You okay?”

Trying to regain his mental footing (and trying not to have a crisis he thought he got over years ago), he swings his legs casually. “Yeah, ‘m fine. Thought- thought about what you’re gonna decorate the cake with yet?” he asks. 

“Nope. Can that be your job?” Steve replies, scooping out a cup of sugar. 

“Depends. Must the writing be legible?” Eddie leans back on his hands and lazily watches Steve move around the kitchen. 

“Can’t cook, can’t write, what are you good for, Munson?” Steve teases, pressing a couple buttons on the oven. 

“Oh, you’ll regret that one day, Stevie,” Eddie grins, spreading his hands like he was picturing a display name in lights. “When I’m playing to sold-out crowds, you’ll regret all the slander to my name.” 

Steve shrugs with one shoulder, whisking something in a bowl. “Nah, I’ll probably go get interviewed by People magazine or something.” He puts the whisk up near his mouth like a microphone, plastering a shocked expression on his face. “Steve Harrington Tells All: Eddie Munson Can’t Cook?” 

Eddie just manages to keep in a shout of laughter, remembering El sleeps light. “You’re the worst. You hear me?” His heart flutters traitorously. 

“I know. Return of King Steve, just because I do all the cooking in this house.” He pushes the bowl he had been mixing at Eddie, along with the whisk. “You do this.” 

Eddie takes it apprehensively. “If I somehow manage to set this on fire too, I want it on the record that I am not at fault.” he says seriously, starting to mix. 

“You are hereby absolved of responsibility.” Steve says. 

“Ooh, big words.” Eddie teases. 

Steve pushes Eddie’s hand and the whisk out of the bowl (his hands are warm ), cracks two eggs in, and then pats his hand. “Keep going.” 

“Am I just your personal stirrer?” Eddie says, raising an eyebrow. 

“You can’t exactly do anything else,” Steve retorts, which is rude but fair, “and I don’t tolerate people taking up space in my kitchen without doing anything. El and Rob normally crack the eggs for me. Dustin likes to measure. I make everyone else do dishes.” He lowers his voice at the last part, like it’s a secret, which makes Eddie crack up.

“Well, I can appreciate not being on dish duty.” Eddie says. Steve takes the bowl and whisk out of his hands, passing him a different bowl with different ingredients and a clean whisk. 

“Frosting.” he explains when Eddie gives him a confused look. “Hey, you were the one who made me remember that cakes normally have frosting on them.”

“Hah! I am good for something!” Eddie crows, mixing the bowl’s contents together. It’s not at all the consistency of cake frosting, which makes him slightly worried he fucked it up somehow, but Steve keeps glancing into the bowl and he hasn’t said anything yet. 

“Yes, Munson, you may be my spare memory holder for the rest of time. I’ll rely on you for everything I forget.” Steve says as the oven beeps. “Starting out with this: where did I hide my dad’s whiskey when I was a freshman?” He pours the batter into a round pan. 

Eddie goes to put both of his hands to his head like a psychic, remembers he’s holding a frosting-covered whisk, and decides this is a joke that can be made one-handedly. He places two fingers to his left temple and closes his eyes. “I see…a tree stump in the middle of the woods. It has your initials marked on it. You put the alcohol in there.” He wiggles his fingers like a ghost. 

Steve laughs, then shuts the oven door. “You’re joking, but I think I actually carved my initials into a tree stump out in my backyard when I was a kid with my first pocketknife.” He cranks an egg timer and sets it on the counter by Eddie’s hip. 

Over Steve’s shoulder, a slightly blurry version of a baby-looking Robin appears, winks at him, then vanishes. 

Eddie swallows. “I mean, did you ever check there?” he says. “Worth a shot, right?”

“Sure, man.” Steve chuckles, opening up the back door. “I’ll check.” He points at Eddie. “You keep stirring that.” He walks outside in his bare feet, which is bad and awful, but he also did that in the Upside Down, which is objectively much worse. 

Not five minutes later, Steve comes back in, toting a half-empty bottle of whiskey. “I do not know how the fuck you knew that, Munson.” he says breathlessly, and Eddie grins. 

“Hell yeah!” he says. “Do I get to drink that as a reward?”

Steve cringes. “This has been out there for four years , Eddie. I can promise that you don’t want this. Whiskey’s supposed to be kept at a controlled temperature.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’ve drank worse. Gimme.” He drops the whisk in the bowl, balancing it on his lap, and makes grabby hands for the alcohol. 

“It’s seven A.M., Munson. No.” Steve hides it in one of the many, many cupboards around the Harrington kitchen. “Keep stirring.”

“It’s frosting, Stevie. I don’t know how much more stirred it can possibly be.”

Steve barely spares a glance at the bowl. “Like two more minutes. Go.”

Eddie gives him A Look. “There is no way you can see that by looking at it.” But he picks up the whisk again anyway. “If my arm falls off and I lose my ability to play the guitar because of this, I’m haunting you and Mini Wheeler.” he informs Steve. 

“Haunting?” Steve asks. “Why are you not planning on annoying us normally?” 

“‘Cause if I lose my ability to play the guitar I might as well be dead, obviously.” Eddie says, chuckling. 

He stops laughing when he sees Steve’s expression. 

“Hey, Harrington. You okay?” he asks quietly. 

Steve seems to shake himself out of whatever unhappy trance he had fallen into. “Yeah. Yeah, man, I’m fine. Just…don’t like thinking about that.”

“Sorry.” Eddie says. Next to his hip, the egg timer buzzes.

“Can you get that?” Steve says, grabbing a potholder and opening the oven. Eddie turns off the egg timer. 

Steve puts the cake on top of the stove to cool. “Alright, I think I know what we can put on the cake.” he says aloud. “But I need your help.” 

Eddie mock salutes. “At your service, captain! What’s the idea?” 

“That Demons and Drama game-” Steve starts.

“Dungeons and Dragons,” Eddie corrects.

“Yeah, that. Anyway, Dustin was showing off his dice to me, and the twenty-sided one looks like it could be a cake design, but I don’t know enough about it to make it.” 

Eddie hops off the counter, landing gently on the kitchen tile. “Hold on, I’ll be back.” He moves into the dining room quickly, grabbing the set of dice Dustin had chosen for Mike and bringing the d20 into the kitchen. “Okay, so here’s the die.” Eddie says. “Do you have food dye for the frosting?”

Steve nods. “Think Mike would like blue?” he says, moving to a corner cupboard. 

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, probably.” 

They wait about an hour for the cake to cool in the freezer (Steve seemed to know what he was doing putting it in there, and Eddie didn’t want to question the master), before pulling it out and getting to work. 

Eddie dips a butter knife into the bowl of blue frosting, trying to move his hair out of his face without the use of his hands. 

Steve sighs. “Oh, I should’ve had you put that up. Hold please.” He leaves the room to go to the foyer. Eddie puts the butter knife down and steps out into the hallway to watch as Steve rifles through the pockets of a coat Eddie’s eighty percent sure isn’t his.

He returns, stepping behind Eddie. “Hold still,” he mutters, and suddenly his fingers are ghosting through Eddie’s hair. 

Eddie freezes completely at the sensation of Steve’s fingers feather-light against his neck. He is a very weak man, alright, and Steve’s pulling his hair up. 

All too soon, Steve lets go, and pats him on the shoulder. “There, that should help.” 

He busies himself by spreading blue over the cake, willing the red he knows is painting his face to go away. Steve’s pouring white frosting into a piping bag. 

“Are you just prepared for all manner of cake-making emergencies?” Eddie asks, motioning to the piping bag with his chin. “Why do you have that?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I like baking. And having it comes in handy, like right now.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Eddie says. 

Steve’s handwriting is neater than expected, and Eddie watches in fascination as he pipes the numbers and lines of the d20 onto the cake.

It’s not a bad cake, if he says so himself. 

By the time the kids come downstairs, it’s completely ready. They’ve got the counter and table cleaned up and candles ready to go. As soon as Mike sees the cake, Eddie yanks his lighter out from his pocket and lights the three candles Steve had managed to find tucked away in his pantry.

The cake’s good. Steve’s a good baker. 

Eddie shoves the last bit of cake into his mouth. “So, Mini Wheeler, are you planning on playing any party games?” he teases, waving his hand. “Like…like truth or dare? Spin the bottle?” He chuckles, setting down his fork. “Hide and seek?” 

Mike shrugs, but El looks confused. “What’s hide and seek?” 

Dustin gasps. “You’ve never played? Oh, we’ve failed you as your friends.” The table laughs. Dustin begins to explain. “So basically the group all finds spots to hide, and one person has to go around finding them. The last person found wins, and they become the seeker for the next round.” 

El grins. “That sounds like fun!” 

“We could play, if you’d like.” Dustin seems nervous about offering it, like he’s afraid the rest of them will make fun of him. 

But it’s Will who speaks up. “Yeah! It’ll be like the old birthday parties we used to have!” 

Lucas slaps a hand to his forehead. “How could I forget about the annual birthday party hide and seek games?” he says, mock-distraught. “Now we have to play!” 

All eyes turn pleadingly to Mike (except Erica, who looks like she couldn’t care less). 

“Fine. Fine!” Mike says. “But I’m seeking first.” 

The kids cheer and disperse. Robin, Steve, and Eddie stay seated.

Mike points at them. “Nuh uh. You’re playing too.” 

Robin practically dematerializes with how fast she vanishes from her seat. Eddie follows Steve. 

“I haven’t played this since I was six, with Tommy Hagan.” Steve mutters. 

Eddie immediately spins on his heel and ditches Steve. “I’m not letting you ruin my chances of winning!” he whisper-shouts over his shoulder.

He finds a random room and wedges himself under a desk. He can hear Mike as he finishes counting and calls, “Ready or not, here I come!” 

It doesn’t even take two minutes before Mike shouts, “Found you, Steve! Why did you even think that spot would work?” 

Eddie has to clap a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. 

It takes longer, but Mike eventually comes into the office and peers under the table. “Eddie…” he groans, sticking a hand under the desk to help him out. “This spot sucks.” 

“Yeah yeah, birthday boy, laugh it up.” Eddie says. “Steve distracted me and I lost valuable hiding time. I’ll kick ass next time.” 

Dustin’s last found. Apparently El did pretty well too, though, folding herself into one of the kitchen cabinets, and Eddie’s proud of her. 

When Dustin begins to count, Eddie runs upstairs and shoves himself in Steve’s closet. It’s wildly appropriate, considering his earlier revelation. He buries himself in the back, behind even the Scoops Ahoy uniform. 

As he’s waiting there, listening to himself breathe in the dark, he busies himself by touching all of Steve’s shit. Some of them are really nice textures, and he makes a mental note to come look through it in the light again later so he can steal some more clothes. Then again, if they’re horribly bright colors, Eddie doesn’t want them. He lives and dies by his metal aesthetic.

It takes a lot longer for him to be found this time. Eddie even hears Dustin come in and out of Steve’s room a couple times, but he doesn’t check the closet. He’s not sure if Dustin’s a really bad seeker, or if this is a really good spot. Could be a combination of both. 

The closet door opens.

Eddie holds his breath.

Clothes shuffle around towards the front and Eddie braces himself. 

He lunges out at Dustin. “RAHHH!” 

Dustin tumbles back, yelping. “Eddie!” Seizing a pillow from Steve’s bed, he starts to whack Eddie with it. “You suck! Why’d you scare me?!”

Eddie laughs, shielding his face. “It was funny !” he says defensively. Dustin finally calms down and puts the pillow back on the bed. “So who’s left?” Eddie asks, sprawling out.

“No one. Found ‘em all.” Dustin says. “You won!” 

“Hell yeah!” Eddie shouts. He practically runs downstairs to the table, where everyone else is waiting. 

He doesn’t even wait for them to talk to him, instead putting his head to the wall and loudly starting to count. 

They scatter. 

This is fun. He never really got to do stuff like this. Sure, he played hide and seek on the playground at Hawkins Elementary, but he’s never gotten to play with his friends. 

“Ready or not, here I come!” he shouts. He feels like a little kid again. 

That’s good. It’s been too long since he’s felt like a kid. 

It feels like there’s an internal compass attached to his heart, tugging him in the direction of the living room. 

He walks in, pauses, follows the pulling to one of the chairs. 

“Boo!” he says. 

Mike, hiding behind the chair, yelps. 

Eddie sticks out a hand to help him up. “You were making so much fun of me for my first spot, this is not better, Mini Wheeler.” 

Mike rolls his eyes, accepting the help up and out from behind the chair. “Listen, I’m tall now. I wasn’t expecting to not fit anywhere.”

Eddie laughs at him, and Mike goes to sit at the table. 

The pulling is back, leading him to the front hallway. 

Well, it led him to Mike, sooo…?

He grabs the handles of the hallway closet door and wrenches them open. Will tumbles out. 

He doesn’t even look mad about being found. 

Unlike Dustin. 

“C’mon, this was a great spot!” Dustin complains. “How did you find it?” 

“Henderson, I hate to break this to you, but wedging yourself between Mrs. Harrington’s fine china cabinet and the wall isn’t a good spot.” Eddie tells him. “Go sit down.”

Robin’s in Steve’s closet. “Already used this spot, Buckley.” Eddie tells her, opening the closet doors. 

Robin steps out. “How’d you know it was me in there?” she asks. “You didn’t even see me before you said my name!”

“Who else would be in there, really?” he asks, but it’s a cover up for the fact that he really doesn’t know. He just had a feeling that the person the internal compass was pulling to was Robin. 

Robin rolls her eyes and leaves. Eddie focuses on the pulling, trying to put a name to it. 

Lucas. 

He tracks it down into the Harrington’s garage. 

Lucas is standing motionless in the back corner when Eddie flicks on the light. Eddie just sorta looks at him.

He lets out a breath. “Was I the first one found?” he asks. 

“Nah, not even close. You’re good, Sinclair.” Eddie pats him on the back. 

He brings Lucas into the kitchen and leaves him, following the compass. 

Steve. Next one’s Steve. 

He’s just following it through the house, when he gets the urge to open a random door to his left. 

Stairs, leading down. 

The basement is dark, but when Eddie turns the light on, he can clearly see Steve’s hair poking up from behind a punching bag. He starts to chuckle. “Hi, Harrington.”

Steve comes out sheepishly. “You didn’t even know this room existed, how??”

Eddie grins. “Just lucky, I guess.” 

“Did I at least win?” Steve asks. 

“Nope. El and Erica are still out there. Good effort, though.” They make their way back upstairs. 

Eddie walks around, following the compass he knows is leading him to Erica. It brings him into an unfamiliar bedroom, the king-sized bed in the middle looking untouched and pristine, excluding the fact it was all covered in a layer of dust. 

“I know you’re in here, Lady Applejack.” he calls.

There’s dead silence, and Eddie’s about to resign himself to getting down on his hands and knees and poking around under the bed, when Erica huffs and shimmies out of her hiding place in the cabinet under the TV. “How did you even know where I was?” she says grumpily, brushing dust bunnies off her clothes. 

Eddie doesn’t answer, just leads her out of the creepy room. Must be Mr. and Mrs. Harrington’s. 

The compass for El is confusing. It keeps leading him to a spot in the middle of the hall, but there’s no hiding places there. He paces back and forth, wondering if El could have been in the basement with Steve and Eddie’s weird little tracker just missed her somehow.

He pauses and looks up at the high ceilings. 

Of course.

The other people at the table look up as Eddie blows right by them, beelining for the back door. Eddie steps out of the house and eyes the roof, and sure enough, El’s curled up with her knees to her chest, perched on the roof. 

“You won!” Eddie shouts. “Nice job, Supergirl!”

El shimmies down with a grace that speaks to years of practice, and lands lightly in front of him. 

Everyone else pours out of the house, talking to Eddie loudly. “That was amazing!” Dustin says. “You were faster at seeking than everyone else! How’d you know where we were?” 

Eddie doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t want to tell them about the weird compass thing just yet. “Guess I’m just lucky.” 

Coward , his mind hisses.

[the0ldmann]

Minors DNI. Ageless blogs DNI. You will be blocked on sight.

Yeah this is fluff, but the IP is 18+, so this writing by default is 18+.

Sorry if this uh, fluffy fanfic one-shot isn't very in-character. I tried! But I'm still very new to this fandom and I'm struggling to get a grip on Friend's character, tbh. If you got feedback, lemme hear it!

Writing below the cut. Not proofread. 977 words.

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Cameras.

They came in various sizes, ranging from bulky and requiring two hands, to tiny enough to fit into a pen. The smaller, easy to disguise ones were his favorite. Get the right brand and one button sized camera could run for a long while on the tiniest battery.

Yes, cameras were quite useful and versatile tools- that certainly could not be denied as Friend sat at his desk. One of the monitors in front of him displayed a scene from one of those very cameras. The commissioned plush he was supposed to be sewing lay forgotten on the hard surface in front of him as he watched his Sweetheart.

They were somewhat dancing as they moved around the kitchen of their little apartment. Friend could not tell exactly what they were making, but judging by the various baking pans strewn about the counter and large mixing bowl in their hands he knew it had to be something sweet.

He could see they were saying something. Turning around giddily, putting things away, their mouth moving quickly between words and laughter.

Oh their laughter…

Though he could imagine it, he still wished he could hear the sweet sound instead! Perhaps he should give them a call?

Nah, a call would be too distracting. Not to mention, taking a closer look between the camera trained on them and the ones in their bedroom, it was clear the phone was charging on their nightstand. Friend was digging watching them do their little dance- he didn’t want to interrupt that.

While he was briefly distracted looking for the phone’s location, he missed his Sweetheart putting whatever they were making on a plate and covering it. His attention came back to them as they were rinsing the dishes, stacking them neatly to be washed later. A knife was set to the side of the sink as they then dried their hands.

Watching intently as they went to their room, he saw them pick up their phone. It looked like they were typing out a text message.

Who were they sending that to?

Before he had much time to get jealous, his phone vibrated next to him on the desk.

Sweet<3: Friend! You wouldn’t happen to be busy right now, would you?

Friend looked down at the half-finished plush, a little embarrassed. It should have been ready for stuffing by now. Ah, but he still had three days 'til it needed to be mailed out, he had time. It could be finished tomorrow.

Friend: Not busy enough to be kept from you! ;)

Sweet<3: Haha, well then, if I asked you to come over, would you?

Friend’s heart skipped a beat as he hastily tried to type out a typo free response.

Friend: You don’t even need to ask- I’m already on my way!

Sweet<3: Come on in when you get here~

He didn’t even see the final text as he rushed to grab his car keys. It had been no time at all before he pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot. Thankfully their residence was incredibly close to his house. As an added bonus, the guest parking was relatively empty and he got a spot fairly close to the door.

The door opened just as he went to reach for it.

Sweetheart’s smiling face was a sight to see, making him blush as they hurried him inside.

"Ah, I knew my Friend-senses were tingling!"

“Miss me that much, did you?” Friend teased as Sweetheart playfully took a second to boop his nose.

“Always,” they said while winking at him. Grabbing his hand, they dragged him over to the couch. If they teased him any more, they wondered if he’d be able to see through the inevitable cloud of pink hearts that would float around his head. “Sit down and wait just a moment for me to go grab the surprise!”

“Oh? A surprise?”

There was rustling from the kitchen. It didn't take long for the noises to end and Sweetheart to emerge holding a tray. They set it down on the living room table.

"I know you tell me the plushies are all gifts, but I still feel a little bad that I haven't been able to get you anything. Ah ah!" They put a finger to Friend's mouth as he went to say something. "Obviously I don't have the money to get you anything, and you've probably gotten yourself everything you've wanted or needed anyway. But since the plushies are homemade, I realized there was one homemade thing I could make for you that I know you wouldn't be able to refuse."

As Sweetheart finished speaking, they lifted the covering off the tray to reveal an array of fudges. All of them were cut into little heart shapes and came in varying shades of pink.

"I know you have a sweet tooth, so I figured what better gift to give than the one always bound to keep on giving? Plus I came across this recipe for strawberry fudge that sounded too good to not try. One thing led to another and uh, I might have gotten a little carried away!" They scratched the back of their neck. Setting the covering on the table and then sitting down next to Friend, they waited patiently.

Carefully, he picked one up. He was so gentle with it, it almost made Sweetheart laugh. They managed to hold it in and not ruin the moment as he popped it into his mouth.

Friend couldn't help the small moan that escaped him as he closed his eyes.

"Heehee, I take it I did a good job? I mean, that must be so, if you like it that much!"

He smirked.

"Oh Sweetheart, any job you'd do would be a good one. But with a talent this divine? I should make you my personal baker…"