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imtherain · 1 year

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Soup

So here I am again, having feelings about a man who kills people.

This is for, about, around Simon “Ghost” Riley. From Call of Duty, a game I never in a million years thought I’d care about. But here we are.

Warnings? Hurt/Comfort I guess. Some female mentions for “you” (mentions being an auntie etc.) A lot of sort of sad feelings. Talk of trauma, injury, near death, all that fun stuff. Allusions to past relationships. No pancakes. But hey, there’s soup.

I apologize if you misread the title as Soap, as I have a few times. He’s lovely too, but this one is for Ghost.

Anywho

It was one of the hardest things you'd ever done, but after that last mission, you hadn't really had a choice. You'd been just about blown apart by a rain of gunshots. There was an explosion you didn't remember and three weeks of time you lost. Another three lost to a coma.

~~~~~

You had left the 141 six months ago.

And while you carried the scars and some pain the doctors said would never go away, what hurt you most was the look in your lieutenant's eyes when he told you you were going home. The way his eyes were hard chips of stone behind his mask when he told you he wouldn't let you come back.

That was the last time you'd talked to Ghost. And you tried not to think about how much his silence hurt you. You had been so close to him for so long. He always had your back and you always had his. You couldn't count the times you'd spent nights together, trying to deal with all the shit you had to do, there were too many. Maybe there were all of them. Then there were the times when you fell into each other's arms because there was nowhere else to go.

And he sent you home without saying anything that even resembled goodbye.

But that was half a year behind you. You had begun to pick up the bits of your life that could be salvaged. Your sister helped a lot. She was the only family that knew you were back, that even knew you were alive. She lived across town from your apartment, but she made sure to stop by to check on you as often as she could.

You had taken to making food when the things in your head got too loud. You made beef stew and thought of Soap. How he always told you to add more potatoes and made jokes about the Irish in good humor. You made chicken noodle soup for cold nights in safe houses. Leek soup for when it rained and for stomach aches. And you made cakes and pies and cookies for Price and Gaz, both of which had terrible sweet tooths and always tried to steal the batter or taste the dough.

You left a bowl empty for Ghost because you didn't know what else to do.

Tonight you made turkey soup. Lots of root vegetables from a friend of a friend who had a farm south of the city. Good fresh earth still clung to the turnips when your sister brought them to you. She had a whole bag full of turnips, parsnips, carrots, and rutabagas. Onions from the store.

You made the broth with the carcass of the turkey you shared with your sister and her husband two nights before. At their place with their kids. The house, full of color and joy and laughter and life. You got to be Auntie y/n and not a soldier. Not a broken thing left for eternity to find left behind.

Sometimes it was easier to forget the 141 when there was laughter around you.

Sometimes you drove home and cried.

The soup was delicious, warm. Tasted like the stuff that kept you alive with a hug.

You'd gotten good at making soup, as though it was the only thing you knew how to do. Your sister always made bread. Your whole apartment smelled like a Hallmark movie. You sat together at the table, three bowls, two now dirty, and all three empty.

Your sister had stopped asking why a while ago. You figured she knew it was a type of mourning. She always knew you in ways you didn't tell her. Knew how you only wore earrings when you wore dresses. How there was always a knife close at hand. How you slept with a gun, loaded, strapped to the side of your nightstand.

How you always made soup when you missed them.

You had picked up your bowl and your sister's when you heard a knock at the door. All of your alarms went off, thinking the worst at first. But then you remembered how there was a single mother down the hall who you often told could come asking for dinner when she smelled it. Knowing she needed good food sometimes for her and her twins. Remembered just how far your sister’s bread recipe could carry down the hall.

You covered the peephole with your hand before looking through it. In case whoever it was had a gun waiting for you.

There was a shadow outside the door. Tall, broad, black sweatshirt. They were looking down the hall, towards the exit sign that glowed faintly red along the white parts of his mask.

You opened the door and he turned to you.

"Who is it?" Your sister called. You were frozen in the doorway.

"I shouldn't have come," was all he said, turning with his duffle bag to head towards that glowing red light. You caught his sleeve before he could flee.

"Can you do me a favor?" You call over your shoulder back into the house. "Go hide in the bathroom, I'll let you know when you can come out," you stepped out into the hall and closed the door enough that she wouldn't see him. You knew how he was. How he liked his privacy.

"What? Why?" Your sister's confused voice.

"Just do it, I'll explain later," you call back. Ghost hadn't tried to pull away yet. You just held his eyes while you both listened to your sister grumble as she did as you asked.

"You have company," his voice was gravel, just like you remember it. The accent slides around his words like silk.

"She's my sister, she watched my place while I was gone." You told him. You hadn't talked about family, there had been no room for it amongst the gunfire. "If I ask her to go, will you stay?" You didn't want to feel the hope that tried to block your throat. You didn't want to admit how badly you missed him. How being apart had made you realize just how fucked you were, falling in love with your LT.

But he wasn't your LT anymore. Not your commanding officer in any way. So what was he?

"Simon?" Your voice is smaller than he remembers it but hearing his name in your throat brings him back to earth.

"Affirmative," he said. His voice was smaller than it used to be too. As though he didn't want you to hear it. You pulled on his sleeve.

"You can go to my room while I send her home, she wasn't going to stay much longer anyway." You tell him when he resists your tug. "You can take a shower if you want, it'll feel good. Or you can just…" whatever other suggestions you had died in your throat. "Just, don't leave, ok?" This time he only nodded.

He pulled off his boots inside the door and followed you to your room. You didn't see him look around your apartment, didn't see the way he took in the mismatched furniture, the loudly colored rugs, the blankets and pillows that filled the arm chairs. You pointed him into the darkness of your room, flipping the switch to light the lamp on your bedside table. The only light you kept in your room these days.

He looked somehow more massive in the space of your room. He glanced at the dresser which had a mess of body sprays and lotions your sister kept bringing you. There was another chair, filled with clothes this time. The bed was made up with bright colored blankets and more pillows than he'd ever seen in one place before.

"They say the more pillows you have the lonelier you are," He spoke like it was a joke.

"That they do," you didn't agree but you knew better than to lie. "I'll be back in a minute," he dropped his duffle on the floor next to the bed and nodded.

You sighed heavily and went to kick your sister out.

She was worried about leaving you with Ghost. You had told her more than enough to make her nervous about him. But you trusted him still, even if he had sent you away. Even if he hadn't said goodbye.

She promised to call you in the morning and you locked the door with all three locks.

When you came back to your room, you could hear the shower running. The duffle was opened and a few pieces of black fabric were spilling out. You weren't surprised that he wore only black when he played civilian.

"She's gone," you called through the door of the bathroom. "Take your time," you added.

A few minutes later the bathroom opened and Ghost came out. A simpler Balaklava over his face now, a black long sleeved shirt, black pants. The steam from the shower spilled out into the room and backlit him with the harsh light over your sink. He was barefoot as he stood on your carpet.

You didn't know what else to say to him.

He went to his duffle and put his things back. You thought of all the times you'd imagined him here, how he'd look amongst your things. Mourned how you'd never find out. But here he was.

He stood and faced you.

"I didn't know you knew where I lived," you finally said. You weren't surprised he could find you, but you didn't know how else to break the silence.

"I've known for a while," he replied.

"So why now?" You had your arms crossed as you watched him think of what to say. Maybe you imagined it but there was something sharp in his eyes, something like fear or loss or… something.

"I had to see you…make sure you were ok,"

"Why?" You didn't want him to know how fast your heart was beating.

"I had to know," you felt anger flare at his attempt to answer you without telling you anything.

"Had to know what, Simon? Had to know if I was still alive? Had to know if I was still going to the doctor's, to rehab? Had to know if I was living alone or with someone who would actually fucking care about me?" It wasn't fair to accuse him. You knew that. But it had hurt so much when you were sent away. Hurt like a battery acid injection. Hurt like a thousand paper cuts that could never figure out how to heal.

When he didn’t say anything you laughed. Of course he’d stay silent. He never quite figured out how to talk unless it was to give order, to tell off color jokes, or to grind out dirty words into your ear.

“It hurt like hell when you told me to go home,” You said. “Did you know that? It felt like you were kicking me out of the 141, out of all of your lives…out of your life. As though you couldn’t stand to so much as look at me.” You weren’t looking at him anymore, so you missed the way his eyes snapped to your face.

“You almost died, y/n,” He said. “Because of a bad call I made. I had to watch you get shot to shit, watch you bleeding out while Gaz did all he could to keep you from dying. It was a miracle we got you to a hospital at all.” You felt tears gather behind your eyes, pulling angrily at your throat as you tried to keep them inside.

“I never blamed you for that,”

“It doesn’t matter if you did or not because I fucking did,” Ghost snapped. “And then I had to see you hooked up to all those fucking tubes and machines, not moving.”

“You didn’t have to stay,” You tried to ignore the way your heart clenched at his words.

“Three weeks. I had to see that shit for three weeks before you opened your eyes again.” He took a step forward and you watched him cross the space until he was before you. You looked up at him, his frame so large in the dim light. You knew people who would be terrified of being so close to him. But not you. Never you.

“And first chance you got, you told me to get the fuck out… forced me to retire,” His face was hidden by his mask, but you could see the way his shoulders fell as your cheeks grew wet. You wiped at your eyes with your hands and pretended it didn’t kill you for him to see you like this.

“I couldn’t…I couldn’t see you like that again,” His voice was soft now. When you didn’t look at him, he sank to his knees, his hands coming up to touch your legs, gently, as though he was afraid you’d break. “Every time I closed my eyes, I saw you laying there, bloody or plugged up with so many machines…” He shook his head as if to displace the memories. His hands moved up your sides. You didn’t want to forgive him, didn’t want to understand.

“You told me not to die, and I didn’t,” You said. “And you paid me back by leaving,”

His head dipped down into your lap as his arms closed around you. He was hurting too. Just as much as you were. Your hand moved to the back of his head, wanting to comfort him even after all this time. You knew he wouldn’t be here if it didn’t matter, if you didn’t matter to him. But it hurt so much for so long.

“Didn’t know what else to do,” A confession at the altar you built to hide your heart from the world. You felt the walls, the temple you haunted, start to shake and crumble.

“Why are you back?” Your voice was small as your hand traced the back of his head. You’d never seen him like this before, and it meant something to you. It had to.

“Soap said I was a dumb fuck for letting you go,”

“That’s all it took?” You could almost laugh. You used your hands to bring his face up so you could look at him, but frowned when you saw his eyes, dark as always, but more haunted than normal.

There was more to it than just Soap talking shit. “Tell me what happened, love,”

“Bad intel, shit went sideways.” You felt your heart clench.

“Who?”

“Whenever I closed my eyes all I could see was you all shot to shit, bleeding out like you were in a hurry to die,”

“Simon,” You pressed.

“Me,” He finally said. You had his face in your hands, but he pulled away and ripped the balaclava off, showing you his face. You’d seen him before, but seeing him now, his eyes angry and wet, caught you off guard. There were no new marks on his face, but you studied him just to be sure. “I was the one bleeding out… and you weren’t there to see it.” Your heart dropped like a nuclear bomb, but when it hit bottom it didn’t explode. It just sat there, heavy.

“But you’re ok now,” You said. You were telling yourself just as much as you were reminding him. “And me, I’m here, I’m safe too,” Your thumbs brushed his cheeks, something that, even when you were together, you’d rarely gotten to do.

“I thought it would be better if you weren’t there,” He continued. “That I wouldn’t keep looking for you,” You wondered how long he’d been keeping this to himself, knowing he didn’t usually open up to anyone. You wondered if he’d told Soap, and that’s why he’d called him a dumb fuck.

“It sucked being here without you,” You said. “Not hearing from you. Soap calls once in a while, checks in. Price even offered to come visit. But I told him no.”

Simon looked at you for a long time, not saying anything more. You held his face, knowing he’d run out of words. After a while, you just sighed and leaned down to kiss his forehead, holding the kiss for three counts too long.

“Should I go?” He asked. Your hands were on his shoulders now, his still along your waist while he knelt on your floor. You shook your head.

“I made soup, if you’re hungry,” You told him instead. He thought for a moment before he nodded. It took him a minute for him to pull away from you enough to stand. You picked up his mask and handed it to him before taking his hand. He laced his fingers with yours.

If he was going to stay, you were going to have to start over. And if you were going to start over, you’d do it right this time. Soft touches, gentle kisses. Not fast fucks in the desert. Not sloppy quickies behind the barracks. Not moans concealed by gloved hands.

He dutifully followed you to the kitchen and took the chair you offered him. You went about reheating the soup, as it was cold now. You didn’t say much, and he didn’t say anything. But his eyes followed you, face still open and empty of his mask. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen his face this long in a single go before.

It was nice.

“My sister made the bread, it’s fresh,” You told him, handing him a thick slice. You couldn’t help but touch his face one more time before turning back to the stove with his bowl.

You sat with him while he ate. Watching as he dipped the bread in and brought it to his mouth. You wondered if he liked any specific soup best. Maybe squash soup, or tomato, or mushroom bisque.

“What?” He asked after you’d stared at him too long.

“I missed you,” You said, knowing better than to lie. His lips threatened to turn into a smile.

“Missed you too,” He speaks carefully, as if the words were new, before returning to the soup.

You were content, for now. He was here, he was clean, he was eating. You could touch him.

And the empty bowl was full.

[Masterlist]

#simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #hurt/comfort #simon ghost riley #soup #imtherain #lackofpamcakes

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theliterarywolf · 9 months

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Drop a dish recipe, and I can share my absolutely thrilling recipe for non-specific Scandinavian fish soup.* *I'll be honest, Idk if it's even in any way Scandi, but I cooked it here, so it counts... there's no banana. Fuck bananas.

Oh, Banana!anon! It's been a minute, how have you been?

Anywho...

Stew and Rice

2 pounds of fresh tomatoes 2 large red onions 2 cans of tomato sauce 1-2 pounds poultry (chicken, turkey, whathaveyou) 1-2 pounds beef (or goat or lamb) 1-2 pounds of a white fish (cod or pollock) 4-6 Habanero peppers Maggi cubes Curry powder Thyme Cooking Oil (either Canola or Olive) Liquid Aminos to taste (more conventionally this would be salt, but my mother has high blood-pressure so I'm used to not using salt-to-taste anymore) Rice (typically Parboiled rice but Jasmine or Brown work well too) Optional: Broccoli Mixed Vegetables Plantains

First, after rinsing them, cut the tomatoes into large chunks. Then blend them until smooth with a combination of ½ one of the tomato sauce cans and water. This may take several rounds due to having to pour out a full blender into a pot and starting over. However, when you're on your last round of tomato chunks, make sure to blend in the Habanero peppers as well.

At this point, the tomato/tomato sauce/Habanero mixture should be in a large pot. Cover it and set it to boil on low heat. Your main goal is to boil off the excess water.

While the tomato mixture is boiling down, cut your white fish into large portions. Place them on a baking sheet (or a baking pan lined with foil) and place them into the oven at 400°. The goal here isn't to make the fish crispy but to make it so that the fish won't fall apart when introduced to the stew, so keep an eye on it.

While that's going, chop up your red onions. Set them to the side.

At this point, cut your poultry and your beef/goat/lamb into chunks. Put them into a pot with a handful of your cut onions and 4-5 crushed Maggi cubes. Let them boil, covered, on medium heat until the proteins break down and the meat is tender (around an hour or so).

Check back in on your tomato/tomato sauce/Habanero mixture. It should have boiled down a bit but not all the way. Add in the rest of your tomato sauce (the leftover can and a half) and half of your onions. Stir before covering the pot back up.

NOTE 1: Whenever you uncover the pot, be wary because the mixture is volatile and will splash quite a bit. And the splashes burn no matter how experienced you are.

NOTE 2: Occasionally scrape the bottom with a rubber spatula to prevent any of the stew from catching and burning on the bottom of the pot.

By this point, your fish should be removed from the oven (remember, the goal is to firm it up, not to crisp it up). Once your poultry and beef/goat/lamb are tender enough, you can begin the process of putting everything together.

When the tomato/tomato sauce/Habanero mixture has boiled off all of the excess water, retrieve another pot (seriously, if your stove doesn't look like the Battle of Waterloo by the time you're done, you're doing it wrong) and pour in half a cup of cooking oil. Once heated, add in the rest of your chopped onions and cook until tender.

Then, pour your stew mixture into the pot with the oil and onions to essentially 'fry' the stew mixture (you're really just trying to temper everything to the same temperature and consistency). Carefully add in your fish, poultry, and beef/goat/lamb. Stir while adding in healthy amounts of curry powder and thyme. Depending on the consistency, you may have to add more cooking oil at this point.

Allow this to cook for a few minutes while you grind up more Maggi cubes (5-6). It's preferable to use a mortar and pestle, but if you unwrap several cubes, put them in a bowl, add a tablespoon or two of warm water, and wait for a few minutes for them to crumble, that works too.

Pour that into the pot and stir. Add in a few healthy splashes of Liquid Aminos (or a few pinches of salt-to-taste) and cover. Let this cook on it's own for ten minutes before cutting the heat.

Boil yourself a pot of rice (or use a rice cooker, they are better than sex after all). When the rice is up to snuff, plate out several scoops. Uncover your stew and ladle out one or two scoops (you don't want to drown your rice in stew; keep things balanced). Plate with cooked vegetables (broccoli is my preference but mixed vegetables are another option) and fried plantains.

Grab a glass of wine, a bottle of beer, or a responsible beverage and enjoy!

NOTE: Depending on what part of Nigeria someone's from, they may have a strong appreciation for Ponmo (otherwise known as Kanda). This is basically cow skin. And I fucking HATE IT because eating it is just constant chewing and cooking it is a neverending balancing act of 'if I don't cook it long enough, it's going to be hard and if I cook it too long, it's going to turn into jelly'. I mention this because sometimes people like to add this to stew and rice as well. And the adjustment to the recipe in that case would be as follows: While your poultry and beef/goat/lamb are boiling, clean your Ponmo/Kanda (remove and stray bits of fur or unsavory bits). When your Ponmo/Kanda are clean, just before your poultry and beef/goat/lamb are done boiling, add in the Ponmo/Kanda to make sure it gets some good initial cooking time without going gummy.

#food #recipe #also even though I grabbed the picture from online #this is my individualize recipe #different Nigerians and Nigerian-Americans have their own takes on Stew and Rice

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iremainunfappable · 2 years

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Tumblr Nuked My Orig Blog

Tumblr had a hissy-fit and terminated my original @unfappable303 blog. Over 5000 followers. Apparently it's okay for filth of all imaginable types (which I like BTW) to show up in my feed but re-blogging the same shit (that might have a...Shhh...nipple or two) gets you warnings and terminated.

FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCK!

Anywho.... 60, average Dad-bod'd pervert with high personal integrity and levels of depravity I didn't know really existed within me.

Loving Partner to @ghostlybailiffrebelfan.

Lots of layers to my Onion. Just ask...

#Bring the Kink

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luminnara · 2 years

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Just disassociating at work, ya know? And had a sudden thought that made me cackle. What do you think about an oblivious/bimbo/stupid in the best way vamp hunter?

Like reader wants to hunt vampires but she’s legit got the wrong idea or doesn’t know. And she meets the lost boys, who fucking love her. Hands Marko an onion, “Babe? What’s this for?” Reader smiles proudly, “Vampires don’t like onions! Make sure you keep it on you at all times.”

Reader shows Paul her new compact mirror and mirror like jewelry. “Vampires don’t have a reflection, I can use these to help me find them!” Paul is desperately trying not to laugh, “baby you’re a genius.” Ya know cuz old mirrors had silver n stuff?

Anywho. What you think?

-🍰

OH MY GOD BUT I just saw a tiktok the other day where this girl was explaining a tattoo she got when she was really fucked up and how it was an onion to ward off vampires. Same energy lol

I honestly love this, it’s so cute 💖💖 the boys are just like “oh my god she’s an idiot and I’m in love”

#the lost boys #the lost boys x reader #🍰

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missguomeiyun · 2 years

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Mondo Pizza . . . . . . again.

This order was a Saturday order a few weeks ago & . .. it was not a pleasant one.

This is the 3rd time I’ve ordered from Mondo Pizza. Like I’ve shared before, both experiences were great. They still have the garlic bread sticks for free when you order over $25, & delivery fee is waived with you order over $20.

Pls read on if you’d like to hear about my experience. .. *sigh

These are seriously so good!

So to put things into perspective a little. .. this order was a surprise for my brother’s bday. My family had no idea what I ordered. We prepared absolutely nothing, just waiting on the order. ..

I ordered when I got home from work at 1719h & the expected delivery time is roughly 38-48mins, according to the app & my previous experiences. So you know. .. around 1800h is when I’m expecting my food to arrive.

But no. .. -story to continue later-

This is the donair pizza & I loved it last time! It’s lopsided & didn’t look great but . .. taste was good! I got a side of onion rings bcos I wanted to try it. It was alright. Worth a try but not outstanding. (The tomato sauce on the side is for the bread sticks)

Here’s the other pizza: the pesto chicken pizza. This was very delicious!!! A lot of chicken & they did not cheap out on the sauce & cheese! It was awesome!

I actually ordered a combo meal, which includes: 2 14″ pizzas, 10 wings, & a 2L pop.

This is the 10-piece wing that’s part of the combo. I chose honey garlic flavour (pop = Brisk iced tea). I got 11 pieces woooot! Flavour was good, but size of the pieces was quite small.

Ok so . .. my order. .. it suddenly jumped to like 65mins & I was like WHAT?!?!?! So I thought. .. ok alright, so about an hr... 1830h. It’s past our usual dinner time but that’s fine.

But then the tracking thing for the order literally stopped updating. It would also randomly “jump”. Like it would sit at x mins for n mins long.. . & the driver’s location doesn’t move for like 20mins. It was as if it was frozen! It say at 16mins for a long time... the estimated time of delivery kept pushing back/being delayed as you can imagine. I was getting quite frustrated. & then the app had a few working moments & I could see the driver’s location really close to the restaurant.

I was like ooooh it’s almost here!!!!

. .. then the driver changed.

WHAAAAAAAAT o_O

Got the Caesar’s salad. It was very saucy, & came with a lot of croutons. It was alright.. .

Here’s the Insalatone Salad. This was really mehhhh........ It was so bland. Wasn’t disgusting but not enjoyable. I don’t recommend this.

So anyway. .. the delivery came SUPER late, & it was not delivered by the initial driver. It was really weird.. . I actually left a bad review & even reached out to Skip & spoke to a live agent via chat. I got a little bit of refund back but. .. this delivery took over 1.5hrs to complete, which is insane! O_O

Anywho, if you’re ever ordering from Mondo, get their pizzas. Their salads weren’t great; onion rings were alright, & the wings were small for what they charge.

#food #pizza #mondo #dinner #bread sticks #salad #wings

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ploffskinpluffskin · 1 year

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btw i went to the farmer’s market again today, but this time. A Different One

tho i did realize the two farmers markets are literally like. a couple blocks away from each other lmao this one is held Outside tho, and i had just as much fun ;o; they had live music and everything. i didn’t buy as much for some reason, tho. maybe i’m learning some restraint finally lmao

anywho this time i bought

- two bunches of turnips - a small bouquet of cut posies in a jar (i think?? i can’t remember now rip they started with a P) - package of ground pork - more oyster mushrooms - one bunch of radishes - a dozen eggs - small bag of mesclun mix - chipotle-flavored goat cheese - an asiago topped pretzel lmao - a loaf of onion dill bread - yet another loaf of bread, this time with cheese and peppers - hibiscus bubble tea with popping mango boba

and. uh. i Think that was it. my grandfather made me feel kinda Bad for spending so much money on a dozen eggs but honestly i’m just kinda trying things out right now when i have the time and freedom to. i’ve never had fresh eggs before, for all i know they really do taste different uu; i feel like he thinks i’m being stupid or something orz

#i was so excited for the vendors to start bringing flowers and they did not disappoint #i'm going to clean the dining room table off so maybe we have a place to put them ghfhieo #or maybe find some place in the kitchen #probably not tho our kitchen is Crowded orz #not a lot of cabinet space

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nancypullen · 2 years

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September 28th

It’s been a lovely day. I hurried through some morning chores, and even managed to get a menu and a list made and do the grocery shopping. That has become my east favorite thing to do. I tend to make the same dozen meals on repeat, mostly because the mister and I have very different tastes - when I hit on a recipe that we both enjoy I wear it out. Anyway, I’m bored and if I had my way we’d skip dinner and just have popcorn in front of the tv at night. But that’s not what I’m here to share - let’s talk about FALL again. I told you I’d snap a few photos of the ongoing porch project. Don’t judge me, it’s not yet October so I’ll foof it up some more before my high holy month arrives.

You already saw the containers for the porch railing.

Burgundy, yellow, purple, and orange, all nestled in a bed of green - the jewel box of autumn. *happy sigh* This corner of the porch is a mess. I need to switch out the cloth on top of the shelf. The orange plaid is competing with the big black and white check of the chair cushion. None of it is really working, but it was all inside the easiest to reach Halloween bin in the garage. If I swap out the cloth for one of my other tea towels and switch those pillows around, it might work. That little flower pot holds leftover pansies that didn’t go in the containers. Hope it turns into a riot of color.

I’d planned to place cornstalks on either side of the front door but quickly figured out that would involve more work than I was willing to do. It would look better, but tools would be involved and I just didn’t have the ambition today. Soooo, I used twine and tied them to posts and it’s fine.

Just as I secured the first one, my friend Leslie stopped by for a chat.

Strapping those stalks to the post, adding a bow (one roll of wired ribbon, $4.50) and two stems of Dollar Tree sunflowers took about fifteen minutes. Quick, cheap, and easy - my favorite adjectives.

Sure, they’d probably look better with a big, over the top bow and all sorts of add-ins, but simple is good too. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Ignore that dirty porch. I’ll scrub away the potting soil and sweep it clean. Those buckets of deep red mums will soon burst with color and compliment the bright orange of the pumpkins - one of my favorite combos. I’ll throw down a pretty fall door mat too. I think that I still need something on either side of the door, but I’m through spending on this spot. I have a witch broom, maybe I’ll just lean it against one side. That’ll work. If this photo seems wonky, that’s because it is. The front door is not centered between those porch posts. What the heck? I’m working with what I’ve got. Anywho, after dressing up the front of the house I turned on a little music and spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. I made a big pot of veggie soup for our lunches for the next few days, then peeled some carrots, sliced some onion, and tossed them with a few small potatoes. After seasoning a fat hen and putting her on top of the veggies, all I had to do was wait for the timer to go off for dinner. Ain’t she a beaut?

I forgot to tuck the wings, but it didn’t affect the taste one bit. Mmmm, juicy chicken, taters that are crispy on the outside and fluffy inside, roasted carrots are my favorite, and onions for flavor can’t be beat. I had a pot of green beans simmering and for Mickey I put just a couple biscuits in the oven. I cheated and used Mary B’s frozen biscuits, but they’re yummy - squeeze a little honey on that biscuit and you’ll never know it’s not homemade. This meal was prepared to summon autumn right into the house (I used wooden spoons as magic wands) and it worked. Roasted root vegetables are always good for a fall vibe. Mickey wandered down from his office demanding to know what smelled so good and in no time he had a plate full of goodness. Now we’re sitting here fat and happy - he’s watching television and I’m talking to you. In about an hour I’ll go soak in the tub with a book. Livin’ on the edge here in Denton. Tomorrow I need to get those yews planted. I’ve decided on their spots, kept them watered and ready, and I don’t have anything else to do tomorrow. I can get that done in the morning, then shower and spend the remainder of the day making earrings in my pretty new artys/craftsy room. I love saying that I have a room! I’m expecting two deliveries tomorrow - one will be the light for my craft room, and the other is a cute ottoman to go in front of the chair in there. I used part of the birthday money that my sweet mama sent, and it’s going to be perfect for getting cozy in that chair. I plan to snuggle in there on rainy and snowy days and lose myself in books. Once that arrives I’ll snap photos of the whole room and share them. I’m so pleased with it, it truly feels like home to me. I’m sure that it’s not everyone’s taste, but it makes me happy. I love that I can sit at my desk and see blooms and birds. I can watch weather and seasons pass. That’s important to me - just another one of my quirks. I wouldn’t do well in prison. That’s what keeps me on the straight and narrow. Signing off for the night before this gets any weirder. Sending out lots of love and even hugs if you need ‘em. Stay safe, stay well. Be good to each other.

Nancy

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dausy · 2 years

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I worked last week and then my husband came home for a few days. So I took days off to hang out together.

We ended up going to the Atlanta Botanical Garden which is someplace I've been wanting to go. I've heard its pretty during Christmas time, just havent been able to make it. It was nice weather. I dont think their flowers were as in bloom as they could have been. I don't know enough about plants to know if we were too late in the season or too early. But it was a nice stroll anyway. Stopped by a restaurant that had sushi tots. I was so excited for sushi tots. The sushi part was great. The tots were not. Its like back when my mother used to bake frozen ones in the oven. Sad.

and speaking of plants my little garden is growing in so well. I haven't killed them yet. I had a single cherry tomato for the longest time and I was getting nervous he was going to turn red and I'd only have..one..cherry tomato..but I think he's been the same size for years at this point but I have 30 other cherry tomatos growing in Im about to be overrun. I already have plans. They're all going to get baked. Thats really the only way I like tomatos in baked. You bite into them and they explode in your mouth. Add a little salt and italian seasoning and parmesan or add balsamic *thumbs up*. I have 2 cucumbers growing in as well. I'm ok living off of cucumbers and cherry tomatoes tbh.

I've actually been living off of cucumber salad already. We went to a friends bbq and they served us cucumber salad with watermelon in it. cucumbers, onion, watermelon, fetacheese...what..I did not know about watermelon and fetacheese but I'm a fan. Surprisingly.

and then we went to the Ga renaissance festival. Last year we went I guess we just got lucky..plus the mask wearing probably helped cull the crowds. But this fest has been going on for almost 2 months I didn't think it could possibly have that many people going and I WAS WRONG. I didn't feel that crowded out when we were just at Disney for easter (we were in epcot tho so...). Surprisingly I didnt get sunburned. But it was hot and extremely shoulder to shoulder crowded. I saw mainly people dressed up as Geralt from The Witcher. I think I saw some people cosplaying Our Flag Means Death but I can't be positive. Anywho, it was fun people watching.

I don't work until wednesday it looks like so I'm trying to come up with something that I could paint relatively quickly before I have to go back to work.

oh and Chip and Dale was great.

#lifeblog #renaissancefestival #atlanta #gardening #vegetables #artstuff #procreate #horseillustration #horses #animalartist

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dinneronvenus · 9 months

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Hellooo how are you? Tumblr just suggested me your nagumo headcanons and i had to scream a little bit because reader sakadays content??♡♡♡♡ they are wonderful & kind of made me want join and write for sakadays myself too now ;w; your writing is amazing !

Since you take requests (no pressure at all btw) would you be willing to write some Shishiba relationships hcs in the same fashion? He's my everything and i'm dying to read something about him please & thank you so much :'3

Anywho thank you for sharing your works, hope you're having a great day♡

Hi! I’m great, thank you for asking. I hope you’re doing well—and I’m so happy to hear this!

Join the fun, I just started writing fics again after literally a 10+ year hiatus (unless you count daydreaming) LMFAOOOO, so I really appreciate the feedback and the compliment, thank you!

I’m always willing to write for that fine, onion-hating, hammer swinger 😍 coming right up

#asks #requests

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weirdmarioenemies · 3 years

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Banjo-Kazooie Spotlight

Hello, all! Guest writer Bynine here with an article on my favorite game of all time! Despite the immense popularity of this beloved N64 classic, the enemies of Banjo-Kazooie are not something that often comes up in discussion. Well, I'm here to change that!! Or at least, write well too much about some choice picks from the bestiary. Let's go!

Topper

Topper is the first in a small collection of sentient, googly-eyed vegetables that live in Spiral Mountain, where heroes Banjo and Kazooie also reside. Get used to those googly eyes, by the way, because you'll be seeing them a lot. Anywho, I really like the name Topper. You know, like "carrot top"! Great names are another feature of this series.

Bawl

Speaking of which, here's Bawl. Bawl is a fun name! It's hard to say without a southern drawl - bawwwl. Besides that, I don't have much to say about this hopping onion, but I still appreciate you, Bawl.

Colliwobble

The finale of our vegetable trio, and I'll be honest, I've saved the best for last. Sorry, Topper and Bawl, but it's a flying cauliflower called Colliwobble! How can you not love that? It flaps around gently with its big leaves, sustaining flight in a physically improbable yet adorable manner. How come the real thing can't do that, huh? No amount of bourbon roasted, brown butter baked cauliflower can convince me that we didn't get the short end of the stick here.

Gruntlings

The henchmen of the villainous witch Gruntilda, these oafish ogres patrol the halls of her lair, running after Banjo in a stance I'm sure they think is very intimidating.

Or maybe they want a hug? C'mere, big fella.

The most striking thing about Gruntlings to me is their impeccable fashion sense. They come in a variety of colors, and each one has a rakishly charming cloak to match, emblazoned with a fetching skull emblem. Would you mind stretching your arms out, Mr. Black Gruntling?

Thank you. Did Gruntilda coordinate these outfits? I'd believe it - she has a great ensemble herself, replete with a gorgeous purple striped scarf. And this is the same lady who's decorated her entire lair with images of her own face, after all...

Shrapnel

These ornery armaments are in the tragic category of enemies whose only goal in life is to detonate directly next to you. It's fitting then that they're based on a naval mine, but they also (perhaps unintentionally?) resemble sea urchins! How fun!

Normally they look fairly docile, even cute with their little underbite, but when Banjo draws near they growl and do... this. You okay there, buddy?

They're also the only enemies that appear in every Banjo-Kazooie platformer game! Clearly Rare knew they had a winner on their hands. Look at their pretty colors in Banjo Tooie! Look, but don't touch, please. It won't end well for anybody.

Sir Slush

Anyone who's played Banjo-Kazooie will be familiar with these goons. Living snowmen are usually quite jolly, and Sir Slush is no exception, with his consistent and hearty laughter. However, instead of frolicking in the snow, all Sir Slush does is pelt our heroes with snowballs. Rude!

Similar to the platonic ideal of living snowman himself, Frosty the Snowman, the life force of Sir Slush seems to be concentrated in its hat. It's invulnerable to most forms of damage, but if Kazooie strikes its hat at high velocity, it will be blown into icy chunks. Is this a similar principle to the "aim-for-the-head" zombie-killing technique? Are snowmen not merely zombies, extra ice, hold the flesh? Human bodies are 70% water anyway!

Slappa

Another classic bestiary staple, the living hand! Slappa are gargantuan mummified arm-hand combos that pop up without warning from the dusty sands of Gobi's Valley, the requisite desert level of Banjo-Kazooie. True to their name, their main method of attack is a slap, where they simply fall over, crushing anything in their path. The most confusing thing about Slappas is that they have the ability to speak - they laugh if they manage to land a hit, and groan in pain when defeated. How are you talking, Slappa? Do you have a mouth hidden under those bandages? Maybe a whole face?

Artist's interpretation

There also exists a single non-violent Slappa called Grabba, who clutches onto a Jiggy and hides underground with it if you get too close. Should you manage to grab it, they mention having had it for a thousand years, but then congratulate you on your technique. Of all the traits to be assigned to a mummified hand, "sportsmanlike" was not one I was expecting, but I'll gladly take it.

Tee-Hee

Another winner of a name! Tee-Hee! That's great! This design is great too, in my humble opinion. You wouldn't expect a ghost to have such a goblinoid appearance, but Tee-Hee delivers both flavors of common RPG monster at once in an elegant package. Naturally Tee-Hees can phase through walls and are invincible to most attacks, staples of any Game Ghost (TM), and their pursuit is marked with constant laughter. Admittedly their laugh is more of a "mua-ha-ha" than a "tee-hee", but I'm willing to forgive it.

There's also a purple version! This one ignores Banjo and Kazooie entirely, preferring to move around in square patterns. Don't worry, though, it still laughs a lot. What's so funny about squares? Only the purple Tee-Hee knows.

Grimlet

Appearing on a ship known as the Rusty Bucket, Grimlet will disguise themselves as ordinary pipes, only showing their eyes and fangs when Banjo and Kazooie draw near. Despite their metallic appearance, they can stretch their bodies way out to take a bite out of bears and birds alike. You know, I like this design, but I feel like it could be improved somehow. Hmm...

Ooh! The beta version of Grimlet has a really interesting twist- eyes in its own mouth! Of course, any monster is improved when it puts its peepers in its gullet, and Grimlet is no exception. Well, let's keep going!

An even earlier screenshot shows them with white, human eyes... and with a fleshy inner maw... Nope, I don't like this one bit. Abort!

Ahhh... Much better. Now that's a sentient cowl ventilator that I'd let take a chunk out of me. No, I don't have a problem! Quiet, you!

Of course, there are many more denizens of the BK universe worthy of scrutiny - in a universe where even common collectibles will strike up a conversation with you, that's not surprising. In particular, a Banjo-Tooie showcase would be a lot of fun... But I have to stop myself somewhere. Until next time!

#banjo-kazooie #banjo kazooie #enemies #topper #bawl #colliwobble #gruntling #shrapnel #sir slush #slappa #grabba #tee-hee #grimlet #bynine #guest writer #mod orange shy guy

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xtrasauce · 3 years

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so i have to repost this because it literally did NOT show up in the tags??

anywho, enjoy this dabi smut that i self-indulgently wrote and would like for you to read so you can eat good too love you bbs warnings: lots of swearing and whewww sweet smut.

“I’m so tired of this shit” you sighed, wiping your eyes.

Another bullshit artist that came into your life. Another man that gassed you up with promises of being better than the last one...only to be the next repeat offender. You were exhausted. Being played like a fiddle only to be let down every time was zapping you of what little romantic energy you had left. It was hard enough being a fiercely independent woman - people feared you. You were intimidating in how well off you were alone; it made the men you dated feel inadequate, scared even. Despite your laid back attitude and never really making a big deal about taking care of yourself, you couldn’t deny you were a force to be reckoned with. But deep down behind your strength and independence…all you asked for was to be loved. To have someone who didn’t care about your successes and just saw you as a woman. Someone worth affection and not fear. Was that so much to ask? You were capable of vulnerability and delicacy like any other human…so why not you?

You dabbed at your eyes, your shoulders sinking heavily as you whimpered. Pity had its place here when you realized you lost count of how many failed relationships have walked out of your front door.

It was after you’d took a long, shaky breath that you heard the quiet thud of steel-toed boots at your living room window.

“You cutting onions in here?” came the rasp from the other room, “I’m hearin’ a lot of sniffling.”

Your eyes widened at the sound of your long time friend sauntering towards you. You used the sleeve of your oversized t-shirt to fiercely wipe at your face, hopefully leaving no traces of tears behind. “Nah, just allergies” you called from the kitchen. A stitched hand pulled around the corner, dark hair and ocean eyes to follow. It came as no surprise to you that Dabi showed up - this was a fairly common occurrence. You two had been long time friends: far before the league, back when he resorted to petty theft to get his meals. You’ll never forget how he tried to intimidate you with his blue flames into stealing your wallet. What he didn’t expect however, was for you to call him a “little shit” (after clearly hearing his stomach growl) and buy him a meal instead while you yammered on about how you busted your ass for a job they give two shits about you in. You weren’t afraid of him. All the fire he possessed, the scorched skin and scars he bore, the way the staples imbedded in his flesh stretched grossly as he flexed and spoke; none of it fazed you. You were nothing short of fascinating. At first you told him to fuck right off when you noticed how he’d follow you, and he did…from a distance. It wasn’t until some creep tried to rob you at gun point when you got home, accompanied by the instant incineration at Dabi’s hand, that you figured maybe he wasn’t half bad. Ever since then, you made fast friends with this odd flame wielding man. So when he popped into your place without mention, it didn’t bother you.

With a nervous spin, you reached into your fridge and grabbed two drinks - a ritual you often practiced when Dabi came over. He took the neck of the bottle and flicked the top off with ease. “Thanks, doll. You always got a stash ready for me.” he smirked, chugging back a long swig. You rolled your eyes as you hopped up on the countertop, “I have to keep stock otherwise you’re gonna drink me out of my fucking home.” He laughed low at that, leaning back on the faux marble with his elbows. That playful smirk was always plastered on his face when he was around you.

“You love having me around, don’t fucking lie.” You mirrored his smirk, he wasn’t far from the truth. Having Dabi around was a pleasantry. Your friendship with him was one of honesty - you didn’t sugarcoat shit with him and neither did he with you. You supposed that’s why he was so willing to open up to you; something you were sure wasn’t kosher for the kind of man Dabi was. But you understood him nonetheless - a tragic past, littered with so many scars both physical and emotional. The idea of you having any sort of ties to a criminal made you realize you probably weren’t the most wholesome person yourself…but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind as often as you could. For now, he was the closest person you had in your circle.

“Yeah, yeah, hothead,” retorted you, hand waving to brush him off, “Maybe if you weren’t a pain in my ass half the time, I’d like you a little more.” “Oh yeah?” Dabi scoffed, eyebrow raised in amusement. “Maybe I can take the place of your current little boy toy - god knows he doesn’t fuck you enough considering the mouth you’ve got on you.”

Silence fell over you. In any other normal circumstance you’d laugh - punch his shoulder and tell him to shut the fuck up. But now…his words struck you deep without him meaning them to. He picked up the chill of your withdrawal almost instantly and it caused him to lean toward you, scrutinizing the entirety of your face. Eyes narrowed, he spoke a little softer now, “Allergies my ass…you’ve been crying.” It nearly struck a nerve in you how quickly he was able to tell; it shouldn’t surprise you, but it does every time he catches on to things when you try to hide them. Turning to you now, Dabi stuffs his hands in his pockets with his gaze trained on you,

“Out with it.”

Those deep turquoise hues locked you in place, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him directly. With your head turned, you did your best to even your tone out, “It’s nothing Dabi, don’t worry about it.”

“Bullshit,” spat the villain, “Considering how quickly you got quiet over the mere mention of your boyfriend, I know something’s fucking up so spit it out.” You grit your teeth, holding your tongue as the blood in your veins felt of searing fire. His teeth shown now in a sour grin as leaned forward toward you, “Oh suddenly she’s speechless now, huh? That little boyfriend of yours break your heart? I know that pathetic look when I fucking see it.” That got your attention. Your face was twisted with malice, hot tears spilling down your face now with a mix of sadness and frustration. Always the one to push your buttons was he…but never this far. Sure you’d lamented to him after your many break ups, but not like this. Dabi had never seen you cry like this. You yanked the fire user by the collar of his white tee, hurt seething in your words,

“What the fuck would you know? You don’t give a fuck about anything or anyone! I’m surprised you haven’t destroyed my shit the way you destroy everything else in your life!” You were screaming at him now, eyes wild, “You don’t have to deal with every man who walks into your life being AFRAID of commitment with you. God for fucking bid I be an adult who can take care of herself, apparently that’s too scary,” the last few words said with pained sarcasm. He was shoved away as your palm scraped across your face to swipe at your tears,

“What the fuck would you know about relationships or love or any of this shit, Touya?” His name, his real name, slipped from your mouth like poison. Your lips were curled back in a snarl as you burned with embarrassment. It took a full minute before your breathing began to slow from its ragged pattern. Your own words resonated back at you and immediately you felt horrendous guilt. Hands carefully reached out for a gentle touch in apology, “Shit…Dabi, I’m-”

“What would I know, huh,” came a deadpan rasp. As fast as you could blink, he was before you, heated hands prying your knees apart so he could slide between them. He was too close too quickly. Dabi’s eyes were dark and unreadable, piercing into your own, “I know I’m tired of seeing you like this…aren’t you tired of feelin’ like you do?” What a question to ask after being downright insulted. He continued, “I’m sick of watching you throw yourself to these fucking idiots who don’t deserve you - just to watch you crumble and cry and sulk. It’s not like you and it makes my blood fucking boil.” Your eyes began to glaze over with tears once more as he wrapped a hand around your wrist, and suddenly you were pulled toward him, inches from his face. He bore holes through your irises with the intensity of his glare,

“You wanna yell at me for bringing the truth to light? Fucking fine…but at least I’m fucking honest with you, princess.”

He was right. No matter how blunt or scathing his words may have felt when he said them, he never lied to you. He...was probably the only man you knew who was completely honest with you. You suddenly became very aware of the grip his hands had on your legs, how close his body was to yours now. His scent, ash and whiskey, a normal comfort for you now made an unfamiliar shiver crawl up the length of your spine. The hand that wasn’t encased in his grip moved without thought, cupping one of his cheeks. Softly you stroked the flesh there, an apology swimming deep in your eyes,

“Dab- no...Touya, I...I’m sorry.”

The hand that held your wrist released it almost immediately, snapping up to your face. An arm encased your waist as you were pulled against his hard frame. Without a word, he slammed his lips into yours. His grip on your hip made you squeak in surprise, allowing Dabi to slip his tongue into your mouth. As he wrestled down your tongue, you felt yourself overwhelmed with several emotions, shock and confusion being the most prominent. Your hands gripped his shirt once more, shaky fingers unsure of what to make of all this. However...that didn’t stop you from kissing back. Everything in your mind told you this should be weird - you shouldn’t like kissing this asshole and all the grief he gives you every damn day he breathes, yet that’s exactly why it feels so incredibly right. The hand on your face trailed down to the back of your neck, and a hard grip on your hair found you tilting your head back. It was inevitable that a breathy mewl would escape you when Dabi pressed hot kisses into the skin of your neck, sinking his teeth in where he wanted most and licking the indents in the aftermath. When you felt the pressure of his lips and teeth suctioned at your pulse, it dawned on you how very real this was becoming. A million thoughts blazed through your mind - yet it was the self-deprecating thoughts that clung to you the most.

He was looking to get his dick wet and you were vulnerable.

Or worse, he pitied you.

Yes...yes, that one hurt the most. The idea of Dabi only wanting to touch you because he felt bad for being so harsh. You felt your lip tremble at the intrusive whispers that plagued you, and it caused your grip on him to loosen. With a shake in your voice,

“Dabi, don’t do this…”

He stopped. Mouth leaving your neck with a wet pop, he ceased all actions and just kept his hold on you. The waver in your tone never left, “I...I-I can’t be a pity fuck for you. Don’t do that to me, please...I c-can’t take that right now…”

The silence in the room was deafening even through your stifled whimpers. His grip on you faltered slowly, and it made your heart sink. You felt like you’d hit the nail on the head with that notion. It was difficult trying to swallow the seeds of rejection, but you’d have no choice.

“You think...this is a pity fuck?” came his voice, full of gravel and a tinge of something you couldn’t place. Suddenly the arm on your waist doubled down in its hold, nearly crushing you against him. His head never left the crook of your neck however and his deep exhale on your skin made your whole body shiver. Dabi trailed his tongue from your pulse to just under your jaw, pressing a small groan into your neck when you arched your chest against his. The growl he let out made you bite your lip, it was strained - as if to insinuate he was holding something back.

“Babe…” he muttered scratchily, “If I wanted to pity fuck someone, I’d pick some sad bitch at the club…” and he peppered kisses over your jaw this time, “You, dollface, are worth much more than that…” his path continued upward before finally stopping at your lips for one final chaste kiss, “In fact, you…you’re getting what you’ve long deserved.” The big question of what that was popped into your head, yet Dabi left no time for you to ask it. Bruising kisses on your mouth were what you got instead, his nimble fingers pawing at your thighs and sliding up your sides. The whine that tried to escape you? Dabi drank it all in, taking your needy cries down to his lungs like it was the air he needed to live. Your hands flew everywhere on him: gripping his shirt, digging into his arms, cupping his face and even scratching at the back of his head when he bit down your neck again. It was delicious and almost too much, but god smite you if you didn’t want every second of it. Your baggy t-shirt was ripped from your body in simple seconds before Dabi latched onto your collarbone. Scarred hands palmed your breasts without hesitation, and the cool, steel staples only served to be enticing on your hot flesh - the threat of them potentially snagging your skin making you ever wetter.

“Fuuuuck, Dabiiii” moaned you, thighs fully spread now as his tongue lapped over a pert nipple. Your fingers were back in his hair now, tugging hard at the scruffy black locks. His low growl sent heat straight between your legs, “That’s right princess, make those sounds for me…” and he quickly switched to your opposite breast, gently rolling the sensitive bud between his teeth. You shoved at his coat, and practically ripped his shirt in two just to get him out of him; you didn’t miss the dark chuckle let out, whispering something about impatience and being needy before you shut him up with a kiss. You palmed the front of his pants, letting out a short gasp into his mouth at what you felt in your hand. The smirk was not missed in the slightest, “Big, isn’t it?”

Normally you’d roll your eyes at his cockiness, but all you could muster at this moment was a deep bite to your bottom lip. Trying to be nimble, your fingers ran for the buckle of his pants - and you did your best to scoot off the counter top. Dabi stopped you however, knowing right away what you were about to do, “Uh uh…there will be time for that another day” the rough tug of thumbs in the waistband of your panties caught your attention; it was now that Dabi made a point to lock eyes with you, predatory heat in those swirling tides, “If I don’t fuck you right fuckin’ now, I’m gonna fuckin’ combust.” You barely made it out of your panties before he was wrapping your legs around his waist and lifting you up. Your back connected with the closest wall, a one hungry flame villain pinning you against it with your thighs held firmly in his hands. He reached between your conjoined bodies for only a few seconds, the shudder in his breath alluding to you that he’s managed to pull his cock free from his pants. The confirmation: how heavy it sat pressed flat against your slit. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and your breaths came in sputters - it was literally and figuratively, a lot for you to take in.

A pause. Hesitation almost.

With Dabi slated firm between your thighs, you expected him to simply take the plunge...and yet he stilled. He planted his hand strongly against the small of your back, using his weight and strength to keep you there - just above the last act before the bridge that separated you two from being “just friends” would fall to pieces. A hand came to your face, angling your head to the side with an uncharacteristic gentleness. Warm breath trickling over your skin, you felt the hushed command, “...Say you want this.” It was just above a whisper, and your mind being in the haze it was almost didn’t hear it...almost. You stuttered out, “Wh-What…?” He repeated, voice more firm as he said your name, “Say you want this...tell me you want me to fuck you. I won’t ask again.”

Your heart raced a mile a minute. But you already knew the answer.

“Yes, God, Dabi, yesss” you whined out, your thighs squeezing him closer. And that was all it took. Spread open wide for him, Dabi sunk deep within you, a hard groan rolling into your collarbone. Your hands wrapped around his head, holding onto him for dear life. His hips connected with yours slowly at first - allowing you to adjust as he stretched and filled you down to his balls. But the cry you let out when he finally slammed his hips up into you was the sound he loved the most. Thrust for thrust you took him, back scraping against the kitchen wall, rattling all odds and ends that hung nearby.

“Fuck, you feel so ungh, so fucking good.” Dabi says sharply, inhaling between grit teeth as he lends you a particularly hard thrust. Your pussy clenches at the desperation in his voice; masculine moans a symphony that sang down your body. He fucks up into you like you’ve never felt before, primal power oozing out of that lean body of his. All of your senses are ensnared by him and all you can think of in that moment is DabiDabiDabi. Unbeknownst to you, you’re spilling that same mantra from your lips like your life depended on it.

“Yeah, princess? Feel that good? Aghh fuck” he winces, the pain of your nails digging into his scalp mixing with the way your pussy grips him when you register his voice in your ear. He takes the shell of your earlobe between his teeth, moving both his hands now to come up under your ass. As Dabi forcefully ground your hips against his while he continued to pound into you, you couldn’t help but moan - heated pleasure was surging through your whole body. Your muscles tightened, the start of pressure building low in your belly.

“They could never satisfy you like this” he growled into your ear, “No man was ever good enough - no one will ever nghhfuck you like this,” he chuckled immediately after, tone low and dangerous in register, “You’re mine now, understand me?”

With an exasperated gasp you came undone. Electricity zipping through you from head to toe, tears finally spilling, soaking his cock completely as you came. “Fuck yess doll, that’s it, give me all of you,” he hissed, picking up the pace of his thrusts now. You loosened your vice grip on his hair - and that’s when you saw it. Dabi’s lids low as he still took you: eyebrows knitted in sheer pleasure, harsh pants accompanied by sharp grunts. But his eyes...his eyes held an adoration you’d never seen from him before. Soft pools of turquoise that swam in a haze of affection, of pure warmth and intimacy. He watched your flushed face twist in pleasure from your orgasm (simultaneously as he chased his own),

Dabi looked at you like he’d never seen anything more stunning.

“...S-Say my name, princess.” he stuttered out, grunts indicating he was close now.

“Dab-” “No. My real name.”

Your loins fluttered at the notion and you drew him in close. With a wanton moan, you let his ear have every letter, “Unghh, Touyaaa”

His hands gripped the fat of your ass as he damn near drilled an imprint of you into the wall.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckloveyouloveyoufuuuuckcummiiiing” And the sound of a choked gasp cut the air. Thick heat spilled inside of you, a feeling you moaned after as he filled you. You nearly felt yourself collapse onto him, but with the last of his strength, he pulled you both to the couch as you sat on top of him.

His words took a moment to settle with you. Did he…?

You looked up at him, you had to be sure. His head was thrown back, chest rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath.

“...You love me...don’t you”

It was said more as a statement than anything else, but the question was weaved into your words. His head came up for a moment, meeting your eyes quickly before closing his. He was vulnerable here, you knew this. You should’ve known - the way he stuck by your side and met you attitude for attitude. Your shoulder to lean on, your match made in hell. It couldn’t be helped…

“I didn’t think you were capable of love” you laughed softly, your fingers tracing over the scars on his cheeks. He snickered at that, pushing your head down for a quick, deep kiss.

“Only you, doll. It’s only ever been you.”

And boy did you feel finally seen.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #dabi #dabi x reader #x reader #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #confessions #a little possessive #plenty passionate #the way this man has a CHOKEHOLD ON ME #goddd what i’d give #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #lemon

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coconutstars · 3 years

Text

Struck by love ♥

Pairing: Stiles + Reader Prompt: Imagine getting hit in the head by your future boyfriend, Stiles. Summary: It’s readers first day at Beacon Hills High and an unfortunate event (getting hit by Stiles car door, lol) leads to the beginning of a cute love story. A/N: Jeez, I AM ON FIRE. Never in my years of existence have I produced so many fics in such a short period of time. Guess we’ll just have to see how long it lasts. Anywho, this is a very short, sweet one-shot I wrote in like two hours. It’s not proofed (guessing y’all are used to it by now). So take it for what it is!

[ :: ]

You were standing on the curb, looking up at the school you were supposed to spend the next two years in. Behind you, sitting in the driver’s seat of a beat up chevy impala was your mother.

“Make good choices!!”

There was no denying that she was loving this. You. Her. New house. New town. For as long as you could remember your mother had always loved moving to new places. ‘There’s something about the sensation of starting over’ she’d explain. ‘Of reinventing yourself and getting to be whoever you wanted to be’. You, on the other hand, were getting reeaal fucking sick of it.

According to mom, the move to beacon hills was your last. “This is it” she’d said last night. You’d thought she was referring to the placement of the horrible picture of you from fifth grade when you’d decided to dress up as an onion for your school costume party. “personally, I’d prefer it in the trash, but hey…” you’d said, raising your arms in a defeated gesture. You’d discussed the matter enough times to know you wouldn’t win.

“No, I mean here” she’d said with a headshake. “Beacon Hills” “This is where we’re staying”

// ::

Rolling your eyes, you heard the car engine start and your mother yell ‘I love you!” before driving off. This sucked. You hated starting starting over. Hated having to make new friends just to lose them a year later. Digging into your bag, you grabbed your new schedule. first period: Algebra second period: P.E. Great. All the good one’s first. With a sigh, you folded the paper in half and stuck it back in your bag. You were just about to hike the bag up on your shoulder when you felt something hard smack against you with such force you fell backwards. What the… “Shit. Fuck. Shit.” You heard a panicked voice call. Suddenly a face popped up above you. “I am so sorry” the guy declared, kneeling down beside you. “I was talking and… okay I wasn’t talking so much as yelling cause Scott, I mean, that guy, is an idiot” he swiftly pointed towards a second guy jumping out of the passenger seat. “we were discussing this thing and I was saying that… actually, you know what. you probably don’t care…” he babbled, grabbing ahold of your hand to help you into a sitting position. “I’m an idiot, I just hit you with my fricken door and I’m talking about.... fuck I’m doing it again, anyway I should’ve looked…” “hey,” you interrupted softly. “It’s okay” Your lips curved into a smile.

As you went to get up, he held on to your hand while the other grabbed onto your waist for support. “I’m really sorry” “Yeah you said that already” you grinned. “Yeah, no. I just think, you know, you should probably apologize more than once for almost killing someone with your car door”. You couldn’t help but laugh, a sound that seemed to make the guys almost honey colored eyes flicker with just the slightest sparkle of light. “I’ll walk you to your class” he said. “You don’t have to do that” you chuckled, releasing your hand to dust off the back of your jeans. “I’m fine” “No-“ He searched your gaze and formed his lips into a crooked smile. “I want to”

#Stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fanfiction #stiles fanfiction #imagine stiles #stiles imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles x reader #stiles x y/n #single shots

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bad-comic-art · 3 years

Note

Geez. The way people worm out of their dirt just to horribly defend the comic book industry is insane. A lot of the stuff you share is objectively bad, but they get so defensive and have the worse excuses at the ready. I can’t get over that one guy a bit ago who could only list two male characters that get portrayed erotically and was seriously like “Yup. Okay. Perfectly balanced. As all things should be.” Anywho, your blog brings me joy. I look forward to new posts often even though I’ve only been following for a short while 👌

first glad you enjoy the blog! and yea I think it’s the inherent nature of the internet to be contrarian and then combine that with another facet of the internet in which people just need to say things sometimes, like they don’t need to say anything specific or important, the simple act of saying something and having it responded to (negatively or positively whichever isn’t important) is the goal because I think so much of the internet today makes you feel like you need to say things even if you’re uninformed, unqualified, or really don’t even have an opinion on it and it often leads people down roads where they end up defending things that are wrong

I’ve noticed two kinds of people on my posts, first people that just want to disagree with something but don’t actually give a shit and had probably not thought about their point once in their entire life up until 5 minutes ago (and these are pretty obviously to see because their comments are kinda pointless and rambling and unfocused and never really have any content beyond the basic two or three talking points they’ve semi heard in the past and nebulously remember) and then just straight up horny people who have tons of porn and hentai on their blogs and I always remember, I think it was an onion article headline, “oil executive says BP oil spill, like, not even that big of a deal guys”

#Anonymous

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nbrook29 · 3 years

Note

99 🖤🖤

Hello there! You’re officially my last dialogue prompt 🤩 I’m sorry this took so long, anon, I hope you’re gonna like it at least a little 🤓

I don’t take prompts for this challenge anymore. Just wanted to put that out there 😇 There are so many amazing ones on that list, but as of now I have 3 WIPs and one additional one in the works and I’d like to finish them before wtfock ends 😅

Anywho, here you go!

99. “I don’t think I’ve ever played spin the bottle.”

* * *

Robbe is going to kill Moyo.

In fact, he's going to kill all three of his so-called friends because none of them protested when Moyo, tipsy and on his way to drunk, announced that this party sucked and was in dire need of some spice.

He wishes he had listened to his past self and stayed home just like he had originally planned. It was supposed to be a quiet night in, editing videos or maybe spent in bed rewatching Romeo and Juliet in peace with no broers around to mock his movie choice while stuffing his face with onion chips and pretending the movie does not make him emotional, no sir. The wetness in his eyes must be sweat, not tears.

Then, after the movie would have ended, his sulking levels high, it would be time for his favorite activity of recent - daydreaming about reality in which he actually had the fucking guts to make a proper move instead of turning red everytime a certain someone was in his close proximity; smiling at him with that perfect sweet lovely smile that turned his already gorgeous features so much more beautiful that Robbe could weep.

And doesn’t that sound like a magnificent evening?

It may sound kinda lame, Robbe is a man enough to admit that, but the prospect of spending the night watching his friends salivating over girls they can’t get being the alternative wouldn't be particularly alluring to anyone, he guesses. Especially since he never partakes in that salivating part himself, instead chugging one beer after another and playing his designated role of a wallflower.

Story of his life.

The whole thing just plain sucks, because it’s not like his friends aren’t well aware of the fact that Robbe’s interests lie elsewhere and that he’s usually bored out of his mind at those parties. But when there’s at least a semi-attractive girl around them they don’t care about anything else but getting her number and Robbe’s not exactly their priority then. In fact, he could well enough not be there at all and it wouldn’t make much difference. It happens every time they drag him along to those parties and every time he just stands there, rolling his eyes on their embarrassing attempts of flirting.

Not like he’s the master of flirting himself, but even he’s not capable of stooping as low as they usually do.

This time, he reluctantly agreed to come to this one, against his better judgement, after Jens bugged him about it for their entire biology class, trying to convince him it was going to be more of a small gathering rather than a party. And frankly speaking, he did that just to make him shut up so mrs Jansen stopped glaring at him. Like he was the one running his mouth.

Once Robbe said the magic words “I’ll be there” there was no way of getting out of it. Still, his plan was to come by for an hour or two to get the broers of his back, drink a few beers, talk to Jana maybe, and then quietly leave when everyone would be too drunk and too busy tonguing at each other's tonsils to notice he's gone.

But to his surprise, the party turned out not to be the typical banger they usually attended. It wasn’t even that bad and he was kinda having fun since he wasn't forced to play the guys' sidekick-gay-friend this time around and instead was dragged by Zoe to the kitchen to drink shots with her, Jana and Luca right after he arrived.

However, parties are not really his scene in general so when it started getting really late he finished his last Buttery Nipple shot composed by Luca (don’t ask) and was just about to make an apologetic face at the girls and say his goodbyes.

But then Noor and Brit arrived.

With him.

And Robbe almost swallowed his tongue.

Nobody should have the right to look this good but there he was, laughing with Milan in the hall while taking his signature leather jacket off, running a hand through his smooth like silk hair (Robbe's convinced it's indeed very silky) to ruffle it a little like it ever needed any styling, and in general looking like he had just walked out of Robbe's dream straight into Milan's apartment.

Sander Driesen.

The reason for Robbe’s cheeks being permanently stained pink as of late.

They met at one of those after school clubs led by Amber several weeks ago that Robbe came to only because he agreed (after pretty much being blackmailed into it) to play Aaron’s wingman in winning Amber’s heart.

He was gone as soon as those green eyes met his and the boy in front of him, wearing a black Bowie t-shirt and a leather jacket, shook his hand while smiling a little unsurely but still friendly, never breaking their eye contact as he introduced himself in a honey-like voice that penetrated every cell of his body, knees buckling a little, heart stuttering, the whole shebang.

He’s still thanking god he managed to hold back the whimper that was about to get out when he was saying his own name back.

Needless to say, the meeting became much more bearable after that.

Even having to witness Aaron’s cringeworthy attempts of gaining Amber’s attention weren’t that bad anymore. Not when they made Sander chuckle under his breath and catch his eye over Amber’s shoulder, winking at Robbe with a mischief dancing in his eyes as he bit his lip to keep his own laugh at bay.

And then, Amber came up with some stupid “love excercise” or whatever the fuck she called it and made them all hold hands in a circle. She claimed it released stress and spread positivity or some other bullshit, but Robbe was convinced it was just a ploy she came up with to hold the school’s number one fuckboy Senne’s hand (who, if Robbe had to guess, also wasn’t there out of his own free will).

Robbe wasn’t a very touchy-feely person, especially with people he had no business of touching in the first place so the whole thing was beyond painful. Thankfully, Jana came to his rescue, snatching his right hand as they exchanged smirks over Amber’s lofty speech about positive energy filling their bodies.

But then someone else gently took his other hand and when he went to inspect who it was, annoyance already starting to creep in, his mouth went dry, eyes going up, up, up the person’s leather-clad arm before stopping on Sander’s face, looking far too entertained.

The boy took an overly deep breath, eyes closed and face feigning seriousness, breathing out loudly.

“Ahh, I can already feel that rush of energy,” Sander leaned in to whisper to him, a teasing tilt to his voice making Robbe giggled at his antics.

“I guess Amber was right then.”

“No no, I don’t think it’s Amber’s techniques, I just think it’s because of you.”

Robbe just gaped at this shameless flirting, receiving another wink when caught blushing deep pink. Sander seemed unfazed though, totally chill, like saying lame lines and winking at boys was in his everyday repertoire. It definitely wasn’t like that for Robbe, and definitely not from boys as cute as Sander.

He should have probably rolled his eyes at him, called him cocky and full of himself. And yet.

There was something about Sander’s demeanor that screamed it was all a facade, and that underneath there was a huge dork that came out right after that guard was let down. Robbe couldn’t even be annoyed with the smug winking because it was adorned with such a cute smile that it called for a fond eye roll rather than scoffing.

Before he could form at least a half cool response, Amber started shushing all of them with a bossy face, glaring at every person that dared to make a sound. So with a rush of sudden boldness, Robbe just squeezed Sander’s hand and looked at him from under his lashes, biting his lip in an attempt at being coy (and cringing at himself internally) despite his body thrumming with nerves standing this close to Sander, and for some unknown reason it brought the desired effect.

Sander kept smiling at him surreptitiously throughout the entire meeting, making him laugh with his playful faces at some of Amber’s more ridiculous statements, and it felt like they had an entire conversation even though they didn’t exchange one word during that half an hour.

When they were finally free to go home it was after 21, Robbe realized with a whine. After they all collected their things and were ready to leave, Sander turned around in the doorway, searching for Robbe’s eyes while ignoring the rest of their friends crowding against the door, and when Robbe glanced furtively into his direction his expression turned almost bashful as he said bye, Robin.

And then again with the winking.

Good god this boy.

And how cute it was he couldn’t actually wink? It looked more like a reinforced blinking, but he still looked cute doing it.

Once Robbe came back home that evening, thoughts occupied with bleached hair and the smell of leather jacket, he couldn’t stop himself from searching for Sander’s social media. In just one sitting he gathered a handful of information, finding out Sander was a year older and recently transferred to his school (which would explain how he had missed him in the corridors). He also had a photo with Amber down at the bottom of his profile and from the caption it seemed like they were cousins.

Robbe’s fingers hovered over the ‘follow’ button, but he didn’t want to seem like a stalker so he just closed the app, throwing his phone on his bed in exasperation feeling sorry for himself and his inexperience in talking to boys.

The universe decided to be graceful for him for once in his life though and put Sander on his path again only 3 days later.

Like every Saturday afternoon Robbe was in the skate park with the broers, taking piss of one another’s skills and trying out new tricks while basking in the October sun that felt more like it was full on spring rather than the beginning of fall. He was in the middle of showing off some of his best tricks to the sounds of his friends hollering when he caught sight of bleached hair in his peripheral, almost falling straight on his ass. But luck was on his side and he avoided making a spectacle out of himself.

Once he was safely on the ground, skateboard under his foot, he glanced in the direction of white hair one more time to see Sander lowering his vintage camera and whistling, making an impressed face and promptly causing Robbe to downcast his eyes bashfully.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Robin.”

Robbe sighed. “It’s Robbe.”

“I know, but isn’t that a cute nickname?”

Robbe ducked his head, smiling a little to himself, cursing the heat rising in his cheeks. “Are you always this annoying?”

For a moment, Sander seemed to be taken aback, but then he must have noticed the teasing glint in Robbe’s eyes because he relaxed visibly, confidence back on his face.

Then, easily and offhandedly, he said, “No, just with very certain people.”

If Robbe had any doubts before about Sander taking immense pleasure out of teasing him, he didn’t anymore. He was flashed with another mischievous smile and then Sander nodded at the bowl.

“That was pretty awesome.”

“Thanks.” Robbe scratched at the back of his neck self-conciously, ignoring his friends’ intrigued faces and praying they didn’t say anything stupid. “To be honest, these aren’t even that difficult, anybody could do them...”

“Pff, I tried this skateboarding thing once and let me tell you, I was an absolute disaster so don’t sell yourself short.” Sander nudged at his shoulder with a knowing look, the contact sending a shiver through Robbe’s entire body.

“So what are you doing here if you suck at it?” He sent him a toothy grin when Sander gaped at his brazen words, faux-scandalized.

He then lifted his camera swiftly and took a photo of Robbe’s dumbfounded face.

“I’m only around this deadly thing to take artsy pictures of cute boys.”

Looking very proud of himself, Sander laughed at his indignant spluttering, refusing to show Robbe the photo at first, giving in a few seconds later under his killer pout (Sander’s words).

“So, is this where you spend your afternoons?” he asked casually once they sat down at a nearby bench, Sander scrolling through his camera roll and showing him the photos.

Robbe nodded, watching Aaron from afar attempting the backside ollie and failing miserably. It pulled out a snort from Sander.

“Well, you’re definitely better at it than your friends.”

Elbowing him in the side as a sign of loyalty to his friends, he replied. “Jens is actually better than me.”

Sander sent him a curious look. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“What?! Eww, no! I have way better taste than that.” It’s not like he’d admit he had crushed on his best friend a year ago. So, hopefully, he sounded convincing.

Sander lifted his hands in surrender, laughing at his outburst. “Okay, okay, message received, only the cutest boys for you,” he paused, biting at his lip to hold his smirk. “Makes sense,” he muttered under his breath, but Robbe heard him anyway.

Later that day, he got a instagram notification that informed him that earthlingoddity was following him as of now and damn if that didn’t make Robbe’s heart beat faster.

earthlingoddity sent you a link

S: Considering today’s unfortunate incident, I made you a bowie playlist, need to teach the youngsters like you the real music 😎😏

The first message from Sander made him scoff, but he rolled his eyes at himself anyway when he remembered his conversation with him at the skatepark, asking about the shirt and prompting Sander to quiz him about David Bowie’s songs.

Robbe hid his face in his hands at the mere memory.

Space Cowboy.

How embarrassing.

Sander tried so hard not to burst out laughing at Robbe’s confusion when his answer was met with a blank stare, bless him.

R: So you're one of those people?

S: What people?

R: Self-righteous hipsters 😜

S: Now now Robin

No need for names 😩

R: It's Robbe

R o b b e

S: Okay Robin ;)

R: 🙄

Unbelievable

S: So

What's up? 🙃

They kept up at this casual texting for 2 recent weeks, getting to know each other, and Sander confirming that he does, in fact, have a soft side. Robbe also realized he was a much bolder person when no face to face interaction was required when he had more time before responding to Sander. Then there were the occasional “hellos” at school when they crossed paths in the halls, but so far their friendship, if he could even call it that, hadn’t evolved further.

In fact, this party was the first time Robbe had seen him in a week.

Their eyes met for a few short seconds and Robbe waved at him, immediately after wanting to bang his head at the table because who the fuck waves these days?

Sander didn’t seem to mind this dorky display at all, beaming at him from across the hallway and not paying much attention to Milan who was talking his ear off. A second later, he was out of Robbe’s sight, dragged by Milan and the girls to the living room, leaving him staring longingly after him.

Before Robbe got his shit together and on shaky legs went there to maybe squeeze out a few words to him, Moyo was already on his way of arranging people into a circle and producing a bottle to spin.

What a bad fucking timing.

This was so not Robbe’s idea of fun so he started to surreptitiously backing off to the hall to slide out the door but Jana, the traitor, grabbed his arm and sat him next to her, seeming very excited about the game.

It’s not like he was the only one reluctant to play though. Sander’s face looked rather bemused too.

“Come oooon, Sander,” Noor groaned at him, pulling at his sleeve relentlessly to make him plop his butt on her left side. “You promised to leave that sulky slash lovesick face at home and have fun. This is fun!”

“I think we have a different definition of fun, darling,” he retorted, his gaze sweeping through the half-drunk faces, stopping at Robbe’s for a millisecond. It was so quick he thought he imagined the apprehensive look on his face, but then Sander did sit down, letting out a long-suffering sigh and promptly avoided his gaze throughout the game. Which was clearly an intentional effort because they sat exactly opposite each other.

To say Robbe was confused would be an understatement.

And that’s how he finds himself here, sitting in a circle amongst his friends and several strangers who keep hollering and shoving tongues in each other’s throats. He had one close call when the bottle spinned by a redhead girl almost pointed at him, making him hold his breath but then stopping on Moyo sitting on his other side, who was way more eager to fill the deed.

When it’s finally Sander’s turn to spin the bottle, Robbe's heart starts beating double time and he twists his fingers nervously. He realizes with dread that there is no good outcome of this situation; if it lands on any of his friends or any of those few people he only vaguely recognizes, he’s going to have to watch Sander play tonsil tennis with them and his stomach turns unpleasantly with something akin to jealousy at the mere thought.

But if it lands on him?

Oh god.

The bottle is spinning already, Robbe having missed the moment Sander put it in motion, too busy wrangling with his thoughts about what he should do. The fact Sander has been avoiding his eyes ever since they started this stupid game makes him even more nervous about the whole thing.

Then the bottle stops, pointing at him so accurately that it leaves no room for question.

And Sander’s face positively falls.

Sitting near him Jens and Moyo are giving him subtle thumbs up and not so subtle shit-eating grins with Aaron next to them clearly confused at their behavior all the while Sander looks like he’s in pain.

Eyes glued to the floor, body rigid, looking like he’d want to be anywhere but here.

People are staring at them, waiting for something to happen and Robbe feels nauseous.

And so humiliated.

How could he misinterpret Sander’s behavior so much? And it’s not even that, not really. Does the idea of kissing him disgusts him that much he can’t even give him one stupid kiss to avoid putting Robbe on the spot?

From the corner of his eye he can see Noor elbowing Sander in the side and there’s an entire conversation happening between them without one word being uttered.

Then, several things happen at once. The boys let go of any subtlety and start whooping and hollering like they want to force Sander to make some kind of move, there’s a loud whack coming from the kitchen where one of the couples went to continue their PDA so Jana and Zoe get up to check the damage and then Adi, who has been rummaging through the liquor cabinet for the last ten minutes, yells that he found a ten year old whiskey, making the broers scrambling off the floor to get their hands on it.

The rest of the people are still here with them though. Still staring. And Sander still seems to be rooted to the spot.

And Robbe has had enough.

Ignoring Noor’s soft Robbe, he gets up and with a heavy heart almost runs to the door, putting his jacket on in a haste, frustration and shame cursing through his body as he runs down the stairs two step at a time, wanting to get outside as fast as he can.

The cold air washes over him once he reaches the entrance and he breaths in shakily, feeling his eyes welling up despite his hardest efforts not to cry.

It just hurts. It really hurts. And if he’s being honest with himself, the fact that there have been witnesses to his humiliation is a small part of the reason why he feels this way. It’s about the fact that it was Sander.

Sander. This boy who let him believe there may actually be someone interested in him. In that way. Sander, who flirted with him, complimented him, smiled at him, listened to him and sent him Bowie playlists.

Sander, who he felt more connected to recently than to any of his friends.

He wipes at his eyes angrily, scoffing at the fact that this asshole was able to make him cry, when he hears rushed steps on the sidewalk behind him.

“Robbe!”

Walking faster, he tries to ignore the sound until there’s a hand on his shoulder stopping him in his tracks. He turns around ready to blow out in Sander’s face but the boy is faster.

“I’m so sorry for that,” he pants, voice tinted with desperation, apologies written across his face as his eyes flit all over Robbe’s like he’s trying to read his mind.

But Robbe only lets out a humorless laugh. “No worries, I understand, you were very clear. Point taken,” he sneers, starting to walk again.

“No, you don’t understand,” Sander pleads with him, taking his hand in his own to keep him from leaving. Robbe wants to pull it back, but the distressed look in Sander’s eyes makes him hesitate. “I didn’t want our first kiss to be a part of some stupid game. Not when I spent weeks trying to come up with a perfect scenario for our first kiss in my head.”

Robbe promptly loses his breath at his confession.

“You wanted to kiss me before?”

“Ever since I saw you,” Sander confirms in a small voice. His demeanor lacks the confidence Robbe got acquainted with, ripped of any trace of the usual conckiness. Instead, Sander appears almost shy, biting his lip nervously as if waiting for a blow and heart-breaking rejection.

There won’t be a rejection though. Not tonight.

Without second-guessing himself, Robbe takes that one step that still separates them and seals their lips together, hands drifting to Sander’s rosy cheeks on their own, like there was a magnet pulling them in. Sander is stunned at first, his lips unresponsive, but it only takes about three seconds for his brain to catch up and then.

Then.

Then there’s Chernobyl in Robbe’s head.

Fuck.

The way this boy kisses.

Phew.

Robbe’s brain shuts off as Sander’s mouth moves over his with intention, sliding together in a rhythm that leaves him breathless. It’s almost impossible to keep all the noises that threaten to escape inside, one small whimper getting out without Robbe’s accord, but it’s okay because it gets swallowed by Sander’s unyielding lips right after it leaves Robbe’s, making Sander pull him even closer.

Eventually, they have to stop, getting dizzy from the lack of air. When their mouths do separate though it’s only for a centimeter and they keep panting in that small space between them, soon breaking out in quiet giggles.

“I've wanted to kiss you ever since I saw you too. Ever since that stupid meeting,” Robbe admits, feeling brave and like he’s floating on air, no confession scary enough right now. Sander looks very pleased with his words, and Robbe can feel the telltales of his regular confident smile coming back to his face under his lips when Sander pecks him softly.

Then, he draws back, regarding Robbe with eyes full of mischief.

“I only joined to meet you.”

That makes Robbe cock his brow in surprise and he searches his face for a lie or at least a joke, but he doesn’t find any. “You saw me before?”

There’s a pause and then Sander’s smile turns softer. “I saw you the first day of school.”

And, wow. He did not expect such a turn of events.

“You were sitting at a lunch table with your friends, deep in thought, looking so beautiful you took my breath away. It felt like I saw an angel.”

Blood floods Robbe’s cheek and he drops his eyes under Sander’s intense gaze, because he’s not used to such praise, or praise whatsoever. And then there’s Sander, looking at him like he’s something precious, like he hung the moon and stars, touching him so gently and kissing him so passionately and Robbe feels like passing out.

Sander must have sensed he was getting overwhelmed because he chuckles quietly and cradles his cheek in his palm, thumb sweeping under his eye in a soothing motion as he leaves a few small kisses on his other cheek, melting Robbe in a pile of goo right there on the sidewalk, quiet night around them.

Once he pulls himself together, he can’t resist the tugging at the corners of his mouth and a full-blown smile blooms on his face that’s instantly matched by Sander’s own.

“You know, I don’t think I ever played spin the bottle before but I’d give it zero stars on booking.com,” he declares suddenly pulling a laugh out of Robbe. “I was so scared I’m gonna have to watch you kiss somebody else, phew!” He places a hand on his chest comically, turning on the dramatics. “My poor heart wouldn’t take it, Robin!”

And fuck, he’s so cute that Robbe can only laugh at this (his?) dork, fondly rolling eyes at his antics.

“Yeah, I didn’t want anybody to kiss you either. And it’s Robbe,” he adds with a long-suffering sigh, futilely, he’s sure, but it’s still worth it because Sander’s cheek in tongue expression lets him know the boy loves to rile him up and is not going to stop anytime soon.

Still, to wipe off the smug smile for the time being he pulls him back into a kiss by the lapels of his leather jacket and Sander doesn’t exactly protest such. The second kiss is slower, more thorough, but still mind blowing enough for Robbe to feel heat tugging at his stomach.

“Will you go on a date with me? Tomorrow? Or any other time you’re free? Please?” Sander whispers in the small space between them after they finally break apart, foreheads resting against each other and fireworks going on in Robbe’s brain. Despite them standing so close Robbe can see Sander’s face pretty clear, and he can see his hopeful but tentative expression as he waits for him to answer, eyes growing unsure with each second of silence.

Not wanting to keep him in suspense anymore, he gives his parted lips one more lingering kiss, too weak to resist them when they shine so prettily in the street light above them. “Tomorrow sounds perfect.”

#wtfock #og easter eggs because it's cute af #😌

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