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yandere-kokeshi · 1 year

Text

— midnight snack

Pairing: yandere ghost x male! reader

Summary: Waking up to find you gone when you are both supposed to be sleeping, he begins to panic, realizing his fears and nightmares might have been real.

Warnings: Slight violence/ptsd, nightmares and crying, cursing, and a whole lot of comfort.

A/N: wasn't Grammer checked? Probably is a bit ooc ghost, otherwise, please enjoy :].

He couldn't help you.

Hearing your screams — those terrifying, exhausted screams, almost ripped his flesh off.

Simon couldn't move, he was stuck to the chair, wrapped in tight rope, fingers grazing while trying to yank away from the back of the damn chair as best as he could.

He couldn't even talk, all he could see and hear was the continuous hitting — loud slaps and hits that shook him to his very core.

He tried to yell, thrash around in his seat — do anything.

But the bad guys were winning; tearing you apart one by one till they was nothing left. They were meant to tear him apart, force him to gargle the water, kick him till he bled; not you.

Never you.

He knew this was a dream — a stupid, fucking dream that wasn't real.

But it was all too real. The sight of you bloodied, beaten up.

The smell of the thick drugs, the sounds of blood splattering all over the walls, and — oh God the smell.

He woke up with a sudden jolt, sweat drenching his body as his heart pounded in and out of his chest. For an instant, a type of hurl of nausea came over him.

His hands were clammy — face was stained with small tears that normally wouldn't happen. Fuck, why was he was weak?

He's Simon Riley — The most brutal and honest man in the camp. He couldn't be vulnerable, or weak. Especially in front of you.

Drifting into proper consciousness, visions of your blood body, bruised and cut face flickered into his mind. He winced. A hand rubbed over his face, rolling over onto his side, wanting — needing to feel your warmth.

Though, all that was responded to was nothing but cold, bundled-up empty sheets.

No. no. Please, god no.

His heart started racing again, stangled gasp coming from the man. He frantically looked around the room, trying to find something to tell him — almost show him you were alive.

But the minute he heard clattering in the kitchen. He followed the noise, leaving the bed to find you.

The midnight air grazed his skin, melting into his face. Grogginess floating away, being replaced with hot and bothered skin.

He heard humming — the smell of peanut butter and jam waved into his nose.

Turning the corner into the kitchen, he saw you, swinging your hips to a song that he wasn't familiar with. But you were there.

Simon could feel his heartbeat. Anxiety moving away, the elephant in the room removing off his chest as he snake behind you.

Snacking his hand around your waist, he felt you gasp — a real, loud gasp.

"Woah, Simon!" You yelled out, almost dropping the knife you were using.

You felt him hum, resting his head on the back of your neck. Inhaling his addictive smell: mix with fireworks, pine wood, and sweat. You looked down at his scarred arms around your lower waist.

You ran your fingers over his arms, tracing the lines of his tattooed arms, feeling goosebumps rise on them. Although, before you stopped, you felt him squeeze you.

A type of squeeze that was quite rare. A clear sign that he was disturbed.

"What happened, bub?" You asked innocently.

You felt his hands release, before running up your sides affectionately. Stopping at your stomach, squeezing it.

"Fuckin' nightmare."

Continuing to run your fingers over his arms, you waited for him to elberate. Leaving it up to him whether he wanted to spill it.

Though, you had a feeling what it was about.

You felt him take a deep breath. A deep sigh released from him, tickling your neck.

"Y'know, you should try this sandwich," you suggested teasingly, offering it up above your shoulder to the man behind you.

You felt him smirk, before removing himself, making you turn to him to admire his hazel eyes.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

You smiled, "Just a good cook. Should be lucky I'm sharing one of my rare recipe."

He snorted. Before shaking his head hesitantly.

Slowly, you felt his hands wrap around your waist once again, bringing himself closer to you. Resting his chin on yours, feeling him give out yet another heavy sigh.

It was all quiet until he spoke up.

"I had to see if you were okay."

You don't take a bit out of the sandwich yet. Not even making it halfway to the bread.

Your tilt your head, meeting his eyes: "...Did I?"

He nodded.

You sighed, placing the sandwich back on the plate behind you. Seconds later, you hugged Simon back, making sure to squeeze him.

"I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to see that. I wish I could—"

Simon hugged you tighter, causing you to shush. Chuckling at his way to make you quiet, you bring yourself impossibly closer to him and rest your cheek on his chest. You both stay quiet, slightly swaying right to left.

A silence of comfort envelopes the room, hearing the soft rain pattern, the occasional hoo' of an owl, and the breathing of the both of you.

You look up at him, shooting him a small smile, "Can I finish my sandwich?"

The comment falls deaf his ears, not replying, but rather drifting away from your hold to allow you to grab that damn snack.

Suddenly, while eating it, he grabbed the crisped bread, earning a small 'hey!' Out of you.

Watching him take a bite, he hummed.

"Not bad."

You rolled your eyes, "Course it's not bad. It's made by me." You teased.

He let out a small chuckle. Before handing it back to you, but, you shook your head.

His brows raise, lips spread in a questionable question of: "Why not?"

It made you laugh.

"You can have it. You deserve it more."

His eyebrows knit, before looking at it. Though, he shrugged and took another bite, pulling you back to his chest.

Watching Simon enjoy the snack you made with love caught you off guard. While he did love your cooking, he wasn't open to showing affection; mostly throwing hugs, kisses, and a rare 'I love you'.

A few minutes passed, hearing Simon chewing, occasionally leaning down to give you a kiss on the forehead or feel his hand travel down your bottom, squeezing it.

"Simon," You whispered, smoothing a hand over his brown hair.

"Fine, I'll let it go," He mumbled into your hair, making you let out a small laugh.

You looked up at him, holding his hand while rubbing the rough — scarred and pink skin. "Read to head back?"

He hummed. Before grabbing your hand, he bent down to kiss you on the lips, tasting the peanut butter and jam. Yummy.

—

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mostly-sentence-starters · 3 months

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Avengers: Endgame funny moments

Feel free to add context/change pronouns/etc as needed!

"He thinks he failed. Which of course he did, but there's a lot of that going around isn't there?"

"Who here hasn't been to space?"

"You'd better not throw up on my ship!"

"You know, if you're about to tell me to look on the bright side. Uhm... I'm about to hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich."

"I'm so confused."

"These are confusing times."

"Take the godamn phone."

"Go to bed or I'll sell all your toys."

"What? I see this as an absolute win."

"Go cry to your father you little weasel!"

"First of all, that's horrible."

"No, I'd like a Bloody Mary."

"Hey, can we hurry it up?"

"Chop chop, we're on the clock!"

"I am... totally, totally from the future."

"So he's an idiot."

"Is that everyone?"

"What you wanted more?"

"Hey! Nice to meet you, OH MY GODDD--"

#rp meme #rp sentence starters #sentence starters #mod mudkip

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corrupt-touch · 2 years

Text

Lullaby

Suptober 2022, Day 2: Pillow Talk

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Rating: E Word Count: 2381

Tags: Human Castiel, Dean Winchester Saves Castiel from the Empty, Sexual Content, The Finale Doesn't Exist, Dean Helps Castiel Feel What it's like to be human

When Castiel closes his eyes all he can smell, all he can hear, is death. He remembers it all. The relentless screams. The voices of the damned and the lost. He remembers praying to fall asleep forever. Praying to fall asleep just to escape. He remembers the shadow of the Empty, engulfing him in black ooze and dragging him away. He remembers the way the vast darkness taunted him, I know who you love, I’ve always known who you love, I’ve always known your true happiness, I’ve always known I’d be the one to take it away.

And he remembers Dean Winchester, broken and bloody, pulling him out of nothingness. Telling him, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, over and over. The rest of it, the ride back to the Bunker in the back of the Impala, graceless and barely alive, is a blur.

The past two days back on Earth are a blur. Everything is the same as it was the night he left, the night he finally confessed everything to Dean. But everything is different. His body is sore and bruised. The scars across his arms and his face, the ones left behind from the void that tried to entrap him forever as Dean struggled against everything to bring him back to this world, aren’t healing the way they would have, before all this. His head is pounding, the pain trailing down behind his eyes, and the pills Dean had given him aren’t working, at least not yet. And he wants to succumb to the exhaustion he feels, but he knows, once he closes his eyes, once he falls asleep, the nightmares will creep back into his brain.

Dean’s bed is softer, warmer, than Castiel had ever imagined it would be. He’d imagined it so many times, the nights when he would sit alone, awake, in the Bunker, while Sam and Dean slept. He had imagined what it would be like, to feel Dean’s body against his, to know that Dean belonged to him, and he belonged to Dean. But now, Dean knows everything, knows how Castiel really feels, and they haven’t spoken a word about it since they’d gotten back here.

Read on AO3

(or keep reading below)

Instead, Dean is asking him if he needs anything every five minutes. Making him toast and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and saying that now, since Castiel needs to eat, they can go to that diner on the corner of Walnut and Grove, go get the best apple pie in all of Lebanon. And Dean is sitting in the corner of his bedroom, on a chair he’d moved in from the other room, his face illuminated only by the screen of his phone. “It will be okay, Cas. I’m right here, man. Just close your eyes and you’ll fall asleep eventually. If something happens—another nightmare—I’m here.”

“Do the nightmares ever stop?” Castiel rolls onto his back, focusing up on the ceiling.

“For me they never have. But, you know, maybe you’ll be a better human than me. Maybe they’ll stop for you.” Dean rests his head against the wall behind him. He knows, he’s avoiding what he needs to say, what he needs to do, but he’s afraid that if he tells Castiel how he feels, if he tells Castiel anything at all, the Empty might steal him away again. And Dean he’s had to survive losing Castiel too many times, he knows the next time will be the end of him.

“This is what you do? What humans do? You just lay here, alone with your thoughts, hoping that at any moment you’ll just be unconscious?” Castiel runs his fingers along the t-shirt he’s wearing. It’s Dean’s, Dean had given it to him to wear after he’d tried to wash the unrelenting stench of the Empty off him.

“Something like that, yeah,” Dean says. “Being human—it sucks. And I’m not sorry that I saved you, but I’m sorry that you lost all your grace when I pulled you out. I am, I’m sorry.” Dean wants to apologize, for ruining Castiel, like he ruins everything he touches.

“It’s not that bad.” Castiel turns his head toward Dean. “It’s just—different.”

“Not that bad? Why would you want to be a miserable, shitting, human being?” Dean drops his phone down onto the ground. “Why would you want to be like me?”

“You know what I told you—” Castiel’s eyes meet Dean’s, but Dean turns his gaze down to the ground. “Every single word of it was true. I meant what I said, every word of it.”

Dean swallows down the anxiety that’s collecting in his throat. He pulls himself up from the chair, and he stands over his bed, over Castiel, in the faded light streaming in from under the door. And he doesn’t know exactly how to put the things he feels right now into words, he doesn’t know how to tell Castiel he’s felt the same way for as long as he can remember, so he lays down next to Castiel, his head on the edge of the pillow, inches from Castiel.

“What are you doing?” Castiel’s legs slip away from Dean’s along the mattress. He wants this, wants this more than anything, but he doesn��t understand if this is what he thinks it is.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. Maybe something I should have done a long time ago.” Dean can feel the warmth from Castiel’s body, and it makes him feel like maybe, this is all he needs now. “Why is this not so bad, Cas?”

“Being human?” Castiel can feel Dean’s fingers brush against his spine, and it does something to him he’s felt before, but never this much, never to the point where he feels like he’s on the brink of losing control. “Because—there’s feelings, that are more intense than I could feel before. Food—it just tasted like molecules. But now I can actually enjoy it. There’s—I don’t know, desire?”

“You couldn’t feel that before, as an angel?” Dean slides closer, until his face is almost against Castiel’s on the pillow.

“I could—I did, all the time. It’s just—stronger now, I guess. I used to be able to tell myself I couldn’t, shouldn’t want that with anyone—because of what I was. But now, I feel like I wouldn’t be able to say no, I wouldn’t be able to convince myself not to,” Castiel says. “And I guess—I did experience that—sex—once before, as a human, but, you know, that didn’t end so well when she killed me.”

“WI guess that’s the good part of being human. The sex, I mean, not the getting killed.” Dean’s hand is on Castiel’s arm now, moving down, to his wrist, to his hands. “That minute you let yourself go, with the right person, and your bodies are all tangled up and sweaty together and you reach that point at the same time.” Dean stops, lets himself laugh. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore. These weeks, spent trying to get Castiel back, trying spell after spell, until one of them broke through, until one of them let Dean crawl into the Empty, have been sleepless, overwhelming. “I guess what I’m saying is, you’re right, there are good things about being human.”

“Yes. You’re okay with this? Being here with me—in your bed—like this?” Castiel’s body, one that feels almost new and unknown to him, leans back against Dean almost instinctively, because it feels right this way, it feels like it’s supposed to be this way. “I can leave if you aren’t.”

“What? No—you’re always fucking leaving me. I’m not letting you go anywhere.” Dean’s fingertips trail along the edges of Castiel’s t-shirt, moving underneath the cotton. “I can help you be human, or feel human, or whatever. If that’s what you need.”

Castiel closes his eyes against the feeling of Dean’s hands touching him in a way they’d never touched him before. “Just tell me what it feels like to finally get something you’ve wanted for so long—to finally have what you know you needed. Tell me what it feels like to be happy, without the threat of death hanging over that happiness.”

Dean is quiet, listening to the sound of Castiel breathing, of Castiel’s heart beating faster as Dean leans over him, their lips nearly touching as Dean says, “It feels confusing—because I can’t believe this is really happening. And it’s terrifying, too, because I feel like what I’ve wanted has been ripped away from me so many times—and I’m so fucking worried it will happen again.” He pauses, lets his hand slip across Castiel’s until their fingers are entwined, and he’s holding Castiel down on the mattress. “But it also feels like maybe something has changed, like maybe I don’t always have to be the one to sacrifice everything anymore. It feels like this—” He kisses Castiel, his lips hesitant, nervous.

But this, this kiss, feels like nothing Castiel has ever felt before. Dean’s mouth is soft and consuming, and the weight of his body against Castiel lets Castiel sink further down into the bed, and, normally, having someone so close to him, would make every single one of Castiel’s nerves on edge, would make Castiel feel like he was committing some violation of Heaven. But now, his fingers run along Dean’s back, as Dean kisses his neck and his chin. “Tell me what it feels like to let yourself go with someone you want more than anything,” Castiel mumbles.

“Are you asking me to tell you what it feels like to come as a human?” Dean tries not to smile, as he pulls at the collar on Castiel’s shirt.

“Yes, tell me what that feels like, to do that, with someone who wants to be with you.” The only time Castiel has ever felt that release, was with someone who was manipulating him, betraying him, and all he wants, is to know what it would feel like, if it was all real. And he doesn’t understand why Dean is doing this right now, or if this is what Dean really wants, but all he knows, is that this human body is pleading, yearning for anything Dean will give him.

“I don’t really know how to describe it,” Dean says, pulling himself up over Castiel. “It’s like this feeling that builds up inside you, when you’re getting right to the edge, when you’re almost there. But sometimes, it feels too good, you don’t want it to end—and you have to try to make it stop, think about something else--but then, you just can’t. And, when it happens, you sort of don’t think—sometimes you say things you maybe shouldn’t, because the words just kind of spill out. When it's over, I don’t know, that’s usually the part where for me—they leave me, or I leave them.”

“Do you feel regret after it?” Castiel’s focus is on Dean, the rest of the room could disappear and he probably wouldn’t even know.

“Probably not if it’s the right person.” Dean lifts Castiel’s shirt from his stomach to his chest, and over his head. Castiel lifts himself off the bed just enough to accommodate Dean, to let Dean move his hands down his now-bare back, to let Dean’s mouth move across his throat and his chest. “I don’t know, Cas—all this talk—why don’t I just show you, and you tell me how it feels?”

“Dean—you don’t have to—”

“I want to. I want to.” Dean rests his chin on Castiel’s stomach. “Don’t you get it? Don’t you get that I feel the same way you do? Now just stop talking and let me do this for you.”

Dean’s mouth moves down Castiel’s stomach, and Dean’s teeth pull at the elastic of Castiel’s boxer shorts, his fingers and his mouth running down Castiel’s body as he pulls the material lower and lower, down to Castiel’s knees. Castiel groans from the feeling of Dean’s lips slowly moving over him, as Dean’s tongue circles along the tip of where Castiel is hard, aching.

“You should have asked for this a long time ago, I would have given it to you,” Dean says, taking him into his mouth. Just the sound of Dean, sucking, almost gagging, as his lips tighten, is enough to make Castiel want to beg for this to never end Then Dean stops, his mouth hanging open around Castiel as he speaks, “Tell me what it feels like when I do this,” before he lets his lips close again, as his tongue rolls along Castiel.

Castiel gasps into the air, runs his fingers along Dean’s hair, pulling at Dean’s scalp. “This feels—like—nothing ever felt when I was an angel, like nothing I could even imagine feeling now as a human—this feels like this—like you’re all I need to survive anymore.” And his eyes meet Dean’s from across his body, and the way Dean looks right now, devouring him is enough to bring Castiel right to the brink.

And he tries to think of something else, like Dean told him, he tries to remember the feeling of being lost in the Empty, the sounds and the smells of decay, the cries of condemned angels and demons. But, now, none of that even matters, it’s all background noise, fading into the way Dean’s face is buried in between is legs. When he comes, he mumbles, Dean, Dean, gripping the back of Dean’s head, holding him like he can never let go, and then pulling Dean back up, along his body.

He kisses Dean, longer and harder, than maybe anyone has ever kissed anyone, and he can taste himself all over the inside of Dean’s mouth.

“So did I describe it right?” Dean lays down on the pillow.

“No—it was much better than you described.” Castiel runs his fingers along Dean’s cheek.

“Do you regret it?” Dean stretches his arm across Castiel, bringing him closer.

“No, not at all,” Castiel says. “I guess you’re just the right person.” “Yeah,” Dean stretches his leg across Castiel’s, the denim rubbing along Castiel’s bare skin. “I guess you’re the right person for me too.”

#suptober22 #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #suptober2022

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coughsyrep · 2 years

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Fluffernutter Sandwich

Summary: Natasha is shot during a mission, and you are the surgeon that tends to her. Afterwards, upon seeing her in a distressed state despite the procedure going well, you also tend to Wanda.

1932 words

Link to AO3 if you prefer that format:

Fluffernutter Sandwich - traviswrites - Marvel Cinematic Universe [Archive of Our Own]

If you'd prefer to read it here:

You could feel the glare of the Sokovian witch through the observation glass, sweat beading along your upper lip as your forceps prod at the hole in the assassin's stomach, waiting for the clink of once sterilized, now bloodied steel against the bullet that now threatened one of the greatest assets to The Avengers.

“Vitals?” You call out, your focus once again on the injury once they're confirmed to be stable. You wipe at the blood the begins to pool on her stomach, not minding the smear as you work your instrument deeper until you feel the foreign object, the quirk of your lips hidden by your mask. As you gently pull it out you’re reminded of the children’s game, where a shaky hand would lead to a loud buzzer and a flash of a red nose installed on a cardboard patient. You nearly laugh at the thought of how simple it was; how simple you wish that your job was.

You sigh as the bullet clicks on the metal tray beside you, nodding at the nurse to begin cleaning the woman’s body before she would be taken to Doctor Cho for further treatment. As they take over, you step outside of the operation room, immediately removing your scrubs and washing your hands diligently.

“Will she be okay?” You jump, cursing as some water splashes over the sink before turning it off, drying your arms as you look over.

“Only medical personnel is supposed to be in here, Miss Maximoff.” Her eyes glow for a moment before she quickly shakes her head, seeming to scold herself at her reaction. You purse your lips, sighing as you lean against the counter. “But she’ll be fine. Once Doctor Cho sees her, it’ll be like she was never shot in the first place.” Wanda nods, though the aggravation she first showed turned to worry. You step around her, opening the door and waiting for her to follow. As she does she stumbles, your reflexes acting quickly as you catch her.

“Sorry,” she mutters as she stands back up, though you don’t let her go as you watch her sway slightly. Your brows furrow as she ducks her head.

“Wanda, when’s the last time you ate?” She remains silent, which is as much of an answer as you need. You gently pull on her arm, and she looks up at you with trepidation. You repeat the action, your movements soft though your face stern, and after a moment she reluctantly follows you. You pull her to the medical staffs’ lounge, pulling out your lunch from the fridge as well as trail mix from the congressional snacks before walking back, handing her half of her sandwich.

“What is this?” You look up mid-bite, trying not to think too much about how cute her confused look and head-tilt are. “This… white spreading?”

“It’s marshmallow fluff.” Her expression is perplexed as she looks at you, and you can’t help but grin. “It’s a fluffernutter sandwich. You know, peanut butter and marshmallow fluff.”

“Fluffer… nutter?” You nod, taking a bite with a hum. She looks down at it, biting her bottom lip as she contemplates trying it. “Go on, it won’t bite back.” She looks back up with distrust in her eyes before taking a small bite, chewing slowly. You slow your chewing as well, suddenly nervous to hear her response.

“It’s… odd…” You snort as she takes another bite, though this one larger.

“But it’s good?” She hesitates before giving a small nod, your smile lighting up your face. “See, no one can resist a fluffernutter.” A huff from Wanda made your smile widen before a silence took over, the two of you finishing your halves of the sandwich. You pass her the trail mix, ignoring how she shifts in her seat until she takes a deep breath.

“Two days.” Her hands pick at the flimsy plastic bag, not looking up at you. “We tried to abandon the mission as soon as Natasha was hurt, but they destroyed the quinjet. We had to hide until the second team could come, and the entire time I used my power to make sure she wouldn’t…” Her eyes glaze over as she looks at the wall behind you, and you didn’t push her to talk. Instead you stood, going back to the fridge and pulling out another paper bag, placing it in front of her. She looks between it and you, and you give a small smile.

“I always pack a second, in case I need to stay an extra shift.” As she opens her mouth to speak your pager goes off, and you check it to see that you were needed in the operating room again. “Shit, I need to get going. I’ll see you around?” Wanda nods, though you can’t help but worry at her blank face as she looks down at the table. You gently place a hand on her shoulder, and she turns to look at you. “She’ll be fine, Wanda.” She nods again, this time her face relaxing slightly. You give her shoulder a squeeze before rushing off, shivering at the feeling of her eyes on you.

At the end of your next shift you finish writing an operative report, triple checking your spelling and grammar as you know your exhausted mind tended to be lenient on the rules of the English language. You let out a heavy sigh as you save it to the system, leaning back in your chair and resting your eyes, enjoying the quiet until it’s broken by the sound of the door opening. You quickly spin around, relaxing when you see Wanda instead of a superior.

“Did you get some rest?” You ask, and she tilts her head at you.

“That’s the first question you ask?” She walks over quietly, tentatively sitting beside you and letting the chair swivel under her feet.

“The last few days have been stressful for you. I just want to make sure you’re not exhausting yourself.” She looks downs, shrugging as she plays with her fingers. You hum, glancing back at your computer and quickly shutting it down, the office going dark once the bright light of the screen went off. You turn back, waiting patiently for her to speak as she bites her bottom lip.

“Not really,” she whispers, and you nod, standing and holding out a hand. She stares at it, apprehension written all over her face, but just before you pull away she takes it, standing and holding onto you with a grip that almost makes you wince.

“Was there a reason you couldn’t sleep?” You ask after walking a few hallways in silence, and she instinctively steps closer to you as you pass by some of your colleagues, who you greet with a smile despite their confusion of you walking hand-in-hand with an Avenger.

“She wasn’t there,” she murmurs low enough for only you to hear, “she wasn’t in our room. In our bed.”

“She’s still recovering, Wanda. Skin is easier to regenerate than muscle and fat.” Despite your explanation you can see the beginnings of a panic attack, and you suck your lips in, looking around to see that the hallway is empty before turning down the opposite way of the elevator, towards the patients’ rooms.

“Where…” You feel her hesitate before she realizes what you were doing, and nearly drags you rather than the other way around. You two make your way to the classified section of the wing, and you quickly let yourselves in, watching as Wanda rushes to the room labeled Romanoff and swings open the door. You walk slowly, hearing their hushed whispers and not wanting to interrupt their reunion, rather pretending to find the plain wallpaper far more interesting than it is. You make your way to a chair several doors down, about to sit when Wanda pokes her head out the door. It’s obvious how much stress has been relieved when looking at her after only moments of being with the Black Widow, making your dread of meeting with your superiors tomorrow slightly more bearable.

“Is she coming in or not?” You both turn towards the source of the sound, Wanda giving a small smirk to the person you couldn’t see before turning back to you, tilting her head. You blink several times before clearing your throat, shaking your head.

“I’m not supposed to be visiting any patients in recovery, my assignments are exclusively to execute emergency surgeries.” A scoff comes from the room as Wanda looks up at you through her lashes, smiling innocently.

“But aren’t you off the clock?” You raise a brow as she tilts her head, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “And we’re not supposed to be down here at all, are we? What’s wrong with breaking the rules a little more?” You roll your eyes at that before making your way towards her, immediately forgetting about the consequences you could face when her face lights up. She turns back into the room, and once you get to the door you only peek in at first, unsure as to why your chest is fluttering nervously.

“You can come in,” an American accent calls, and you take a step through the threshold, both of the women giving you an amused look. “We aren’t going to hurt the person who helped save my life.” You nod, leaning on the doorway and eyes flicking down to where Wanda’s hand is covering Natasha’s.

“I feel like I’m interrupting a personal moment,” you say while toeing at the floor, looking away from them. You hear one of them click their tongue and a shift on the cot, ignoring the footsteps as long as possible until Wanda stands in front of you, arms crossed.

“You saved her life and introduced me to the fluffernutter. You’re welcome here.” Her arms uncross and she takes your hand, pulling you towards Natasha who gives an amused hum.

“We would’ve been fine with you being here before as well,” the red head says, and one of her brows goes up when yours furrow. “Oh Wanda, I think she might be a little dense.”

“There weren’t a lot of chances to talk to her, detka,” she says as she sneaks her arms around your waist, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Always so busy, but somehow always so cute despite such a tiring workload.” You feel heat rise to your cheeks at her words, and she giggles at your flustered state. Natasha smirks as well, resting back onto her half-reclined bed.

“When’s your next off day?” She says suddenly, and when you reply with tomorrow, she gives a wide smile. “Be back at the compound at noon, in something casual. As good as you make scrubs look, I’d much rather see you in something else.” You nod, lost for words as Wanda reluctantly pulls back, though one hand trails over your back as she goes to sit by Natasha again.

“I’ll leave you two to it then,” you say after clearing your throat, turning quickly on your heel and walking out, questioning what had just happened. Did you seriously just get asked on a date with Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff?

“Wanda?” You trip when you hear Natasha’s voice, slightly muffled now that you were down the hallway. “What the hell is a fluffernutter?” Your lips slowly curl to a smile as you make a mental note to pack three for tomorrow, the stares your coworkers giving you at your elated state not bothering you as you daydream about tomorrow.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel #marvel mcu #marvel cinematic universe #wandanat #wandanat x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #fluffernutter saga

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sawtastic-sideblog · 5 months

Text

This isn't the Gavin idea I posted about, but this is a week of sleep deprivation of writing when I could between work and studying/taking finals.

Tw: talk of death, some violence

Hope y'all enjoy.

"Oi, Y/N, you coming to the footie match?" Gavin asks. You look up from your magazine, staring blankly at him before looking down at your team shirt and back up again. You'd never really liked him, but you got along because of your best friend, Ray.

"Yeah," you answer before turning your eyes back down to the article, but your attention stays on Gavin. You can feel his eyes on you as he sits at the table across from you. You can smell his sandwich.

"Peanut butter and jelly? Really? What are you five?" You ask without looking up.

"My mum made me one before every game. Keeping the tradition alive."

"Ah, so you're superstitious," you say, eyes once again, flitting up towards Gavin. He shakes his head as he chews.

"Nothing like that. I'm just keeping my mum's memory alive. Helps me feel closer to her. Ya know, since she's been gone a full year tomorrow."

Your breath catches in your throat. You knew that. Of course you knew that. You went to the funeral with Ray. You'd just forgotten the dates. You let your eyes fall away from Gavin's as you stumble your apology.

"I'm sorry, Gavin. I didn't realize the date."

"It's okay, Y/N. You don't care about me enough to know these things."

"What things?" Ray asks as he walks into the room wearing his jersey.

"The anniversary of my mum dying."

"They remember it. They just don't know what day it is anymore. The haven't been seeping."

"Ray," you hiss.

"Ah, so, the insomnia has come back, has it? I can help with that," Gavin asks with a glint in his eye.

"Shut up," you say, holding the magazine infront of your face.

"Boys, it's time to go. Big game time," John, Ray's step-dad says.

"Come on, Y/N, time to watch me win us a championship," Gavin says. You roll your eyes and grab your things, following the boys and John to the car.

"Wanna wear my spare jersey? Got my numbers on it," Gavin asks as he opens the car door.

"Get bent," you say as you shove past him into the backseat and crawl all the way to the other side. You hear Gavin chuckle as he gets in the car.

"Go on, Ray!" You yell. You watch as Ray passes the ball over to Gavin. Two of the opposing team's players close in on Gavin, who is running towards the goal. One player tries to get the ball, Gavin dodges. The other player tries for it, Gavin dodges again. He kicks the ball towards the goal. You hold your breath, along with everyone else in the stands.

The ball soars ever so slowly, or so it feels. Your eyes follow the ball as it barely makes it past the goalies hands and into the net. The crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Gavin just won the game!

"Fuck, yes, Gav!" You scream. He looks towards the crowd almost like he's looking for the source of the scream.

Suddenly, he's on the ground. One of the players from the other team is kicking him. You see Ray and some of their other teammates running towards the scene. Ray shoves the player and grabs Gavin as a brawl breaks out between the teams.

You're digging through your bag as Ray brings Gavin over. You hand him the first aid kit from your bag.

"You alright?" You ask.

"I'm great. I think my bloody nose is broken."

"Good game," you say. Gavin's eyes light up and he smiles wide.

"Told you I'd win."

"So you did," you say while looking out at the, now, broken up brawl. Graeme's nose is sideways and John is yelling at him.

"To Gav and his game winning goal!" Graeme shouts into the bar. His voice slightly muted like he's congested. Pretty sure it's just the broken nose.

The team cheers and clinks glasses. You clink your glass against Ray's and go to take a sip.

"Ahem," a voice calls. You pause glass to your lips and turn towards the voice. Gavin holds his glass out to you expectantly. His nose is swollen, but not broken, and bruised and he has a bruise around his left eye.

You roll your eyes, but clink his glass and finally take your sip. Ray grabs your hand and pulls you out to the floor where the two of you dance.

You catch glimpses of Gavin staring at you all night. You can feel his eyes on you when you're turned away. You shrug off the uncomfortable feeling and try to have a good time with your friend.

"Hey, Y/N/N, having a good time?" Ray asks as he sits beside you. You had gone off to a secluded booth to get out of the hustle of the partiers.

"Yeah, just needed to catch my breath."

"Good. Gav is taking me home and asked if you needed a ride."

"Hasn't he been drinking?"

"One beer six hours ago."

"That's not like Gavin," you say surprised.

"He said it was his turn to be the designated driver or some shit."

"Well, how sweet of him. Thinking of others. Decent human being shit," you say sarcastically as you grab your bag. Ray keeps his hand on your upper back as the two of you walk through the crowd.

"Ready to go?" Gavin asks as you approach. You nod and keep walking. You could swear you feel his fingers drag against your wrist. You shrug it off as your drunken imagination and continue out the door.

"See ya, Ray," Gavin says before he slowly rolls forward. He watches the mirror as Ray goes inside. You stare at him as he drives off. You watch the streetlights dance across his features as you pass underneath them. His scruff enticing you with each light you passed.

Before you can stop yourself, your hand is reaching out towards Gavin's face. Your fingertips dance across his jaw. He turns his head toward you and your fingers land on his lips.

"What are you doing?"

"You looked fluffy," you say with a slur to your words. You pull your hand back and Gavin shakes his head and turns back towards the road. You close your eyes and relax into the seat.

"Fluffy?"

"Yeah, but it's more prickly than fuzzy."

"Your drunk," Gavin says laughing. He pulls into your apartment building's parking lot. "Here's your stop. Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"We're at your flat."

"Okay."

"Go on, then. Get out."

"I am," you say, not moving. You hear Gavin sigh and open his door. Moments later your door is opened and someone is leaning over you. They smell really good. You can tell it's Gavin. You seatbelt is unbuckled and your arm is tugged.

"You smell good."

"Thank you, now, come on, Y/N, you gotta help me out."

"I am."

"No, you're sitting in my car, doing nothing to help me."

"Ugh. Just leave me here."

"Wish I could, darling, but I gotta get home."

"Why? You don't have anyone to go home to."

"Ouch."

"Sorry."

"I'm sure you are. Now, stand up."

You lazily move your legs out of the car and stand up. You're very wobbly as you start taking steps. You hear your door close and you feel a hand on your upper arm.

"That's it. Easy does it," Gavin says, leading you to the metal staircase that leads up to your door. The night air gives you a chill and you try to curl into yourself. "You'll be inside in a minute. You can warm up then. Just walk."

Even with you stumbling up stairs, hitting your legs on everything, the two of you manage to your door. You stumble into the wall and stay there, holding yourself up. You pat your pockets.

"My keys."

"I have them. I have your whole bag. You left it in the car," Gavin says as he rummage for your keys. You start to slide down the wall. Gavin catches you, keys in hand. "Nope."

"I'm tired."

"I know. I'm trying to get you inside."

Gavin unlocks the door and opens it. He guides you inside and you stumble over to the couch, where you slump into the cushions. You fall into the throw pillow and hug it close to your body. You hear Gavin set your bag down and walk around the living room.

Suddenly, you're engulfed in a soft, fluffy material. You realize it's a blanket and pull it closer to your body.

"Goodnight, Gav," you say drunkenly. You hear a distant 'Goodnight Y/N' as you fall away, into a deep sleep.

The next morning you wake up with a terrible headache. You regret drinking so much last night. Your eyes scan the blurry room. You see a glass of water and two bottles on the table. You ready yourself and sit up. Your head is aching and your entire body hurts. Your legs sting as you move them to the floor. You see a note and pick it up.

"You kept falling up the stairs. That explains your legs. You tried to get up to go to the bathroom before I left and you fell into the coffee table. You got your arm and head on that. I tried to make sure you were okay, but your stubborn ass you wouldn't let me. I put the bandage on after you fell asleep. Take the pain killers, drink the water, and the electrolyte drink I left for you. -Gav"

You pick up the bottle of pain killers and down a couple with some water. You get up to start your day, which isn't much since it's your day off. You pick up your blanket to fold it and a jacket falls out of it. You recognize it as Gavin's.

'Why was I covered up with Gavin's jacket?' You wonder to yourself. You remember thinking he smelt good last night, so you hold it to your nose and inhale deeply. He does smell good. You shake it from your head and get to work on cleaning.

Ray calls you a bit later asking if you to come over for movie night. Not wanting to deal with his mother, you invite him to your place. He agrees and tells you he'd pick up pizza.

You're finishing up your cleaning when you hear a knock at the door. You open to find Gavin there, hands in his pockets, a bag hangingoff on wrist. His scruff from last night a little thicker, his eyes shining in the afternoon sun, they look brighter with the darkness of the bruises surrounding them, his hair a little messy, but it suits him. You feel a pull at your heart and get confused.

"Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, Gavin, what are you doing here?"

"Ray said you two were having movie night. Thought I'd come crash it. Unless you guys had other plans," Gavin says, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No, it's just movie night, you dunce," you says, opening the door wider for him to walk in. He walks by you and you catch that scent again. "Did you get new cologne?"

"Nah, it's the same one I've been using for years. Why do you ask?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm just now noticing it."

"Ah, you like it?"

"It's alright. A little strong."

"Really? You told me I smelled good last night."

"I seem to also remember calling you a dick at the bar."

"This was after the bar. I was bringing you home. You said I smell good and that I look fluffy, but feel prickly."

"What?"

"You said my face looked fluffy, but got disappointed when it was prickly becauenif my beard."

"Oh, sorry," you say. Gavin just shrugs and puts the bag he was carrying on the dining table. You walk into the kitchen to finish up cleaning and Gavin follows you.

"How's the nose?"

"Alright, my entire face is stinging like a bitch. What about your head?"

"Surprisingly my legs hurt more than my head."

"I can imagine. You hit your shins on every surface last night."

"Oh, you left your jacket here. It's on the hook by the door."

"Thanks. Left it with you, incase you wanted to smell me again."

"Yeah, okay. Thanks for last night. I appreciate it."

"Not a problem."

"And, uh, about today."

"What about it?"

"What was your mum's favorite movie? We can watch it in honor of her."

"The Sound of Music. Thanks, Y/N, that's really nice of you considering you hate me."

"I don't hate you, but I do tolerate you for Ray. I also liked your mom. She was always really nice to me."

"She liked you, a lot. Always said you were the child she never had. That you were a good influence on me. That you could get me away from Pat."

"Yeah, I agree with her. He's bad news. You should get away."

"Why? You don't care about me."

"Just because I'm not fond of you doesn't mean I don't care about you. I want what's best for everybody and that includes you."

Gavin's hands find your hips and he spins you around. He pin you against the counter. His eyes are full of confusion.

"If you don't like me, why do you want what's best for me? Doesn't that defeat the purpose of not liking me."

"Because, even though you irritate the absolute fuck out of me, I want to see you happy, Gavin."

"Why don't you call me Gav like everybody else?"

"I do, don't I?"

"In six years, I've only heard it twice. Once was last night when I tucked you in and you said goodnight to me. The other was yesterday when I scored the game winning goal. I believe your exact words were 'fuck, yes, Gav,' but that was from across the field, so I'm not sure I heard you properly. I think I need to make you say it again," he says, smirking as your cheeks heat up. He leans closer. "I could have you screaming it."

You're saved by a knock on the door. Gavin let's you go and walks to the door. You quickly run to the bathroom.

"Hey, Ray, we're watching mum's favorite tonight."

Three months later and you're hanging out with Ray. You're just grocery shopping, but you're both having a good time.

"Hello, friends, how we going?" Gavin asks as he blocks the two of you in with his cart.

"Great until now," you answer.

"Ouch, my heart. Y/N, you cruel beast," Gavin says, holding his heart dramatically. "Anyway, game night? I've been itching to play Monopoly."

"Sure," Ray says as he grabs a bag of chips from the shelf. You sigh, but nod your head. You've been trying to avoid Gavin since movie night, but it's proving to be more difficult than you thought. He left his jacket again, so he was back the next day to pick it up. He always seems to find a reason to come into the shop you work in or to hangout with you and Ray.

"My place?" You offer.

"Perfect. See you both tonight," Gavin says before pushing his cart away.

"Cheating bastard," Ray says as he hands Gavin the fake money.

"I'm not cheating, I'm just a smart business man."

"I agree with Ray," you say as you roll the dice. You land on the 'Go To Jail' space for what feel likes the billionth time tonight. You've been in jail so much what they should just give you the key. "Fuck me."

"Maybe later," Gavin jokes. You feel that little pang in your chest again. Your chest always feels funny when he says things like that to you or even when he's just doing mundane things. You heart did flips when he did the dishes at Ray's house once and when he was working on his car and he went to wipe the oil off his hands. Hell, you're pretty sure your heart skipped a beat when he showed up with pizza tonight. His messy hair, scruff, and mischievous eyes made your heart do cartwheels.

It was in that moment that you realized that you like Gavin. You like him so damn much.

"That's it, I'm done," Ray says, standing from the chair and walking to the couch. You laugh as you start cleaning up the game.

"You're done too?"

"Yeah, no use in even trying. You're the better business man," you say as you organize the money. Gavin nods and helps you clean.

The three of you decide to watch a movie and you offer for the two of them to stay the night. Both agree and you grab blankets for them.to use. Ray takes the couch and Gavin steals a throw pillow and makes a place on the floor to sleep. You bid them goodnight and go to your room. You can't sleep because your mind is running wild with the discovery of your feelings for Gavin, so you decide to read.

"Can't sleep?"

You jump and look up to see Gavin poking his head in your door.

"Sorry, saw the light on and decided to check in."

"It's okay and, yeah, I can't sleep."

"Something wrong?"

"Too many thoughts."

"Wanna talk about it?" Gavin asks as he walks fully into the room, closing the door behind him. He doesn't wait for your answer and joins you on the bed.

"No thanks. I'm good."

"Okay. I'm just gonna hang out here then. Floor is hurting my back, Ray is snoring, and I can't sleep either. Got another book?"

You hand him one from your nightstand and both of you sit in silence for a while. Gavin shifts and his shoulder is against yours. You feel the heat he gives off and suddenly reading is very difficult for you. You notice his scent and just how close he is to you. You take a deep breath through your nose.

"Smelling me? Do I smell good again?"

"No," you lie. You have to think quick. "I was trying not to to laugh. Funny part of the book."

"Oh, really? What happened?"

"You'll have to read it and find out."

"Does this mean that I can come back and sit in bed to read with you?" Gavin asks jokingly. You realize that he's flirting.

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Yeah and I have been for years now."

"You have?"

"Yeah, you never noticed because you hate me."

"I don't hate you. I tolerated you because of Ray."

"Tolerated? As in past tense?"

"What?"

"You said tolerated. As in you no longer tolerate me. Why do you not tolerate me anymore, Y/N?" Gavin asks. He moves in closer to you. You stare up into his eyes and don't say anything. "Do you like me now, Y/N?"

"Quit it. Stop flirting with me."

"Why?"

"Because it makes it harder."

"Makes what harder? Other than me," he jokes.

"To accept that I like you. That I've always liked you, but I only, unconsciously, let myself start feeling it the night you brought me home. Then the next day, when I woke up with your jacket and realized I liked havin your scent around me. Then, you show up, looking handsome as ever, with my favorite soda. The way you mouthed the words to the movie, the jokes, just everything about you for the past three months have bee eating me alive. I couldn't figure out why until tonight."

"What made you realize you liked me?"

"When you said you'd fuck me later," you say hiding your face with your blanket. Gavin throws his head back and laughs. It's a beautiful sound, but it's at your expense, so you hide your face more. You feel Gavin's arms around you.

"On your terms, I will. Also, I dropped Pat the day we talked. I want to put your mind at ease."

"Good because I just realized I liked you and I don't want to lose you now."

"You're not losing me."

"Good," you say and lean into his chest. One of his hands stroke your hair, the other holds your hand.

"Can I fuck you, though?"

"Not with my best friend is here. Or anytime soon. We're taking things slow. Especially since you haven't asked me out," you explain. Gavin laughs.

"Y/N, will you be mine, only mine, exclusively mine, forever?"

"Yes."

"Good, now can I kiss you?" You nod. He tilts your head up and presses his lips into yours. It's soft and sweet, full of passion and pent up feelings. When you pull away for air, Gavin puts his forehead against yours. "I have been waiting six years to do that."

#gavin ellis #the mule 2014 #ray jenkins #leigh whannell #angus sampson

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ddejavvu · 2 years

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peter likes to act like gordon ramsey you cook for him ❤️

he’ll taste it and wait a few seconds and go “it’s absolutely fucking amazing” in a terrible accent

i'm thinking of that tiktok sound 'that is.. that is bloody lovely!!' and he's eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich </333

#let's talk about peter parker !!#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker headcanon

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therebekahmikaelson · 1 year

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In this human form, Rebekah had a great many number of complaints: hunger gnawed so easily, less powerful but more frequent than the undeniable bloodlust of a vampire. There were headaches and fatigue; sleep now an essential rather than a luxury to pass the time and break up the one long, looming stretch of eternity that lay before the Mikaelsons. Most of them, anyway. Years had gone by in the blink of an eye under the thumb of a cured life.

As an Original no longer, Rebekah’s brothers avowed not to include her on matters of squabbling French Quarters factions or Marcel's latest ploy (the last, perhaps, a blessing in disguise). This stung, despite her centuries-long freedom here at last, but there was one very human thing that made this bloody helpless body worth its while.

Beneath his chest, the thumping of Dean Winchester's heart resounded. Golden locks splayed over the sleeping man's bare skin, and Rebekah shifted quietly as not to wake the slumbering mechanic or the little ones who shared their bed.

They were vacationing in some bloody rental home in Idaho, as part of a godforesaken roadtrip that was Dean's idea. Family bonding. She suspected it was more of a way for the former hunter to stretch his legs and break free of making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Cruisin' down the highway in Baby was surely something of a different experience for Dean this time around. In Sam's seat sat the woman Dean had been keen to kill back in the day. Their three children hadn't quite learned to shut up yet, so it was fighting and crying and asking questions all the way up until Dean drowned their voices out with blaring music.

Just past the Idaho state line, Rebekah wondered if he regretted it, just a little bit. It was a not a question of love for the white picket life two restless, tortured souls had built, but a very human wondering. A part of him would wish it was Sam in the passenger’s seat.

A new thud, faint but present, caused Rebekah to open her eyes. She flicked Dean's nose. "Hey, did you hear that? Dean?" Pushing up to her elbows, she kept her voice low. "I don't know about you, but I'm not in the business of trusting things that go bump in the night."

@wronglyrighteous

#wronglyrighteous #I really do not even know what this is but good morning to you #and to Dean too #v: a white picket fence

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thethistlegirlwrites · 3 months

Note

Sugar Maple: What's the sweetest part of your story?

Cottonwood: What event has the most impact throughout the story, leaves it's trace in many scenes?

Sycamore: Which character is protective, would be a great person to turn to in times of danger?

Thank you for the ask! Answering these for Compass!

Sugar Maple: What's the sweetest part of your story?

The epilogue scene with the turn day peanut butter pie. I almost always need to give my story those extra closure pieces, and these characters needed it after I put them through the wringer in the main storyline! I love the thoughtfulness of the gesture, that shows how far they've all come together, and Sierra finally having the courage to admit the secret she's been keeping from Shane for almost a year. There's just something about having those cute bonding moments I love, because I don't care if they're ridiculously sappy, they make my heart happy and I'm writing them! (And I think Shane appreciates getting his pie again too).

Cottonwood: What event has the most impact throughout the story, leaves it's trace in many scenes?

Gabriel Stoker's death haunts the narrative in every sense of the term. He never appears in canon in either Magic & Silver or Compass, but his loss is a huge part of why those stories play out the way they do. Both of them, in different ways, are explorations of generational pain and grief and how that can poison the future if it's held onto and used as justification to inflict more pain. There's a line that I can't remember if I used in a story or found in a book that says something about hurt echoing down the generations, and that's exactly the story of the Stoker family. Both John and Sierra have let the pain twist them, and their story arcs reflect that. They both have to confront their reactions to that event, and come to terms with it, before they can actually grow and change and do more than continue passing that pain along to the rest of the people in their lives.

Sycamore: Which character is protective, would be a great person to turn to in times of danger?

Really that depends on what kind of protection you want... Sierra will go full scorched earth, trail of bodies in her wake kind of defensive, even if that's totally overkill for the situation. She's the kind of person who would give a sandwich stealing cafeteria bully a bloody nose and two black eyes and possible broken ribs. Shay is also protective, but more in a 'curl in over you to protect you even if that puts him in the line of fire' way. He's better at dealing with the aftermath, more likely to actually be comforting instead of Sierra's cool, businesslike 'problem solved' demeanor. He's also fully capable of a quiet menace that makes a lot of people back down just because they're scared of the big guy. Pete is the kind of protective who gets you something warm to drink, a plate of homemade cookies, cracks his knuckles, and says 'don't worry about it, I'll be back in a few'. He's the long-distance solution, whether it's quietly dismantling someone's financial fortress brick by brick, or a rifle shot that no one knows where it came from but was uncomfortably close.

From this ask game!

#compass #asks

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southerndragontamer · 6 months

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Egotober Day 25: Cauldron

Patton couldn’t help but grin, giggling to himself as he stood over the giant pot on the stove. He felt a bit like a wizard over a potion cauldron, which was fitting considering the season and all the decorations around the mindscape. There was fake spider webbing, actually cute versions of spiders around, ghosts, jack o lanterns, bats, skeletons, you name it. There were even some with a bit of…bloody touch from Remus that was fine in small doses.

As he looked through his recipe book to think of what to make today, couldn’t ever go wrong with spaghetti and meatballs really he decided after a few minutes, he was reminded of the times the past week that the others had come into the kitchen and helped him make something.

Logan had come down first, a bit of a sheepish look on his face when he’d admitted an interest in learning food preparation and Patton had been ecstatic to take him into the world of baking, as he thought it would be more preferred to the logical Side as it needed precise steps. With his peanut allergy and how he liked things not completely sweet in mind, and of course his adoration for Crofter’s, they’d made jam thumbprint shortbread cookies with a bit of lemon to add that tartness. He remembered how Logan had eaten them alongside some finger sandwiches while they’d read together in the library later.

Virgil had been next, in the middle of the night looking for a midnight snack to calm himself down, Patton had talked to him a bit but hadn’t pushed on what was wrong as he’d looked a bit like a scared cat about to bolt. Then he’d gently coaxed him into helping him bake something. He knew that he liked something more subtle, maybe a little bit bittersweet and coffee, so they’d made espresso sea salt caramel semi sweet brownies and had them with a glass of milk while they’d talked about what had had him afraid until Virgil felt comfortable enough to sleep again.

Roman had been next, he’d come down in a sulking pout one day because of artist block and when Patton had seen how hard he was half glaring at his sketchbook, like if he could he’d set it on fire he’d redirected his attention with the offer of cooking. Roman loved strawberries and raspberries and he did not do subtle very well, plus he knew the prince liked to go overboard. They’d not only made a shortcake with layers of cream and mixed berry jam between the cake, but fresh bread and butter to go with pork chops, home fries and Mac and cheese. And Roman had been so delighted by the experience that he’d found his art again.

Remus had been soon after Roman, the Duke had almost scared Patton to death when he’d just popped up behind him. But when he’d calmed down he had kind of…not sheepish or embarrassed, he didn’t think Remus felt either of those things really, but sort of hesitantly asked if he could help make something. Patton had of course said yes and didn’t push why as he sort of felt it was a case of Intrusive Thoughts being too much even for Remus, though Patton had been the one in charge of knives. Remus was a bit like Roman in that he did not do subtle, and he liked contrasting flavors, and they’d made very messy, but very delicious subway sandwiches and a dirt cake with sour sweet gummy worms.

Janus had been the most recent, his opposing Side in a sense had just tapped his shoulder with a secretive smile on his face and asked if he needed help with dinner. Patton had naturally accepted and he knew that Janus liked things a little spicy, flavors that changed in your mouth from one to another like layers in an onion and that he liked lemon. They’d made chicken curry with rice and lemon bars. And they’d actually had a long talk that night that had gone from helping Patton with his issues on pushing too much to Janus’ need to hide when things got too much.

Patton knew things wouldn’t always be easy, there was him to worry over, Roman and Logan still needed to work through various things, but…so long as there was good food and someone to talk to. It would all be ok.

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loominggaia · 2 years

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Scenario: All of the FGG magically turn into babies for 24 hours except Evan. How does he handle it?

Well you see, absolutely nothing would change because they are already a bunch of giant babies that Evan has to wrangle every day. :)

Okay, serious answer: It would be hell, and the little brats would be lucky if all of them survived those 24 hours. I'm going to assume by "baby" you mean "toddler". Here's what I think would happen...

Babby Lukas is being a very goode boi, quietly coloring in a coloring book while Isaac is coloring on the walls.

Glenvar is already in trouble for having a temper tantrum and breaking Jeimos' toy. Evan sent him to the corner for time-out. In retaliation, Glenvar is now pissing in the corner.

Evan drags Glenvar to the toilet to teach him that that's where piss goes, but he opens the lid and finds Alaine splashing around in there in her mermaid form. He quickly removes her and puts her in the bathtub to clean her up.

While he's doing that, Javaan has escaped the house and wandering down the street.

Mr. Ocean is but a tiny hatchling swimming around in a fish bowl. Evan was sure there was no way he could find trouble in there, yet he is currently choking on a piece of aquarium gravel.

Balthazaar is running around punching the other kids. When he gets to Elska, she hits him back and completely obliterates him.

Evan comes out of the bathroom with Alaine and Glenvar, finds all the babbies crying, Balthazaar laid out like a sack of potatoes, Mr. Ocean floating at the top of his bowl, and Javaan is nowhere to be seen. Evan rushes over and pinches Mr. Ocean to dislodge the gravel, gives Balthazaar an ice pack for his bloody nose, and runs out the open door to chase Javaan.

When he gets back to the house, Skel runs up to him and tattles on Linde for eating an old chicken nugget off the floor. The babbies hear the word "chicken nugget" and suddenly everyone is screaming for nuggies. Evan tapes Javaan to the wall and goes into the kitchen to make some.

Jeimos somehow manages to climb in the oven while he's cooking and gets baked for 20 minutes. Luckily they're a red elf so they're not hurt, but you better believe Evan is freaking out when he opens the oven and finds a child in there with an empty tray, all the nuggets eaten.

Evan announces that there will be no nuggies and they'll all just have to eat peanut butter sandwiches instead. Cue several hours of babbies screaming. Glenvar is so mad that he rage-shits on the floor. Elska eats a dog biscuit and throws up. Zeffer dumps Mr. Ocean's fish bowl on Alaine's head and transforms her into her mermaid form. She and Mr. Ocean flop around on the floor and scream their little asses off.

All this is going on, yet Lukas still hasn't moved from his spot at the table. He finishes coloring his page and brings it to Evan like "Look what I made, it's 4 u :)"

2 seconds ago, Evan was considering punting all of these little shits into the sun. But in an instant, he remembers why he loves them and bears the suffering until 24 hours passes.

They all change back into adults. Evan approaches them looking like he just got dragged through Hell and back, and he's like "I kept you alive, now you sons of bitches better kiss my ass for a billion years >:|"

The end.

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

#ask #askfunny #askliterature

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desolateice · 2 years

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Food of “Root Beer Floats and Green Tea” part 5 chapters 78- 110

Welcome to TKK3 arc

Fresh honey from Dutch’s Pizza at Mr. Miyagi’s Little Trees Early morning runs with wheat-grass protein smoothies with Dutch and Jessica Dutch’s tropical smoothie with spinach, kale, and protein powder. Daniel’s chocolate and peanut butter banana smoothie Johnny’s acai berry drink

Mr. Miyagi’s congratulations on the opening of your shop: champagne-style sake from the Lawrence's.

Johnny’s breakfast at a old-fashioned diner and with his mom and she had gotten them both big breakfast platters with pancakes, eggs, bacon, fruit, and toast.

Babysitter Johnny’s mac and cheese with cut up hot dogs

After taekwondo tournament hole in the wall celebratory pizza tradition. Daniel’s brunch with Laura: her bloody mary, Daniel’s eggs

Green tea and Mrs. LaRusso’s pie made by Daniel Halloween at the Brown’s House: Bobby’s monster mash pancakes, skeleton cookies Ohio lemon shaker pie Bobby’s lemon pie Daniel’s Mom’s blueberry pie

ghost cookie Frankenstein's monster bar grave parfaits Candy lollipops shaped like different monsters and severed limbs gingerbread homes scale models of paris and story books “There were so many cupcakes under the domes on the cake plates. Ghost toppings, some that looked like they were bleeding, and one with little candy witch's feet sticking out of it. “ Laura’s housewarming Halloween party: She hired a bartender to work on bubbling punch and alcoholic cocktails out in the garden and got cupcakes and sweets from the Browns and a catering company had made themed finger food. snacks, candied apples, and finger food, mocktails: Johnny had a dark purple almost black drink (made with juice and not vodka)

Mrs. Lawrence’s pumpkin muffins Trick or treats with the kids, no king size candy bars (though Mrs. Lawrence had those), Apples and mini bags of baby carrots. and raisins. The Browns give out: popcorn balls and king-sized candy bars.

Scampagnata Eggplant Parmesan Melanzane alla parmigiana sandwiches croquettes pasta salad, and there are fruit and cherry tomatoes. wine torta rustica pajeon Fancy pancakes from the cafe for Jessica’s goodbye breakfast Beach ice cream for broken hearted Californian boys Birthday dinner part 1: A cold soup was brought out on a bowl of dry ice so the whole thing smoked, crackled, and popped. Tiny salad all wrapped up in a slice of cucumber like it was a bite-size salad, sorbet palate cleanser, eclairs, chocolate soufflé

Hotel breakfast: pancakes, eggs, sausage or bacon, and juice.

Ma’s birthday surprise mac and cheese

Mr. Miyagi’s chocolate cake Jessica’s Buckeyes Cobra make up birthday soccer lunch: Jimmy’s grilled hotdogs, Cookie dough birthday cake

After Daniel’s win celebration from the Browns:

Lemon Blueberry cake with cream cheese frosting recipe some tea cookie recipes Alcoholic rum and root beer floats

Cobra’s break in breakfasts: Dutch’s omelets with lots of vegetables Dutch’s favorite coffee: add one pack of hot chocolate and 3 cups of Irish creamer. Bobby: Cinnamon Rolls Jimmy’s corned beef and hash Tommy’s waffles Dutch’s other eggs: frittatas and quiches Bobby was making pancakes filled with cinnamon and chocolate chips. Chozen’s breakfast: eggs Mr. Miyagi had made sometimes, rice, soup, grilled fish, a cucumber salad, and pickles and Nattō Dutch portrait sitting breakfast spread of: pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, hashbrowns and muffins Mr. Miyagi’s Pork and taro leaves, cook for hours so becomes soft, smoked from when he lived in Hawaii Lucille’s pre-flight to Newark breakfast: scrambled eggs and bacon and blueberry muffins Johnny’s coffee trip in Newark: ordered Daniel a cup of coffee with a dash of cream and one for himself that was a mocha Dinner at Nonnio and Nonnia’s: chicken and pesto penne, a pot roast with artichokes and sun-dried tomatoes, a salad with bread, tomato, cucumber, basil and onion, and focaccia.

Sandwiches with baby LaRusso’s and Johnny’s first attempt at mac and cheese. Ali’s brunch at the country club: egg with lobster and caviar. There were also raspberry pancakes (this recipe is for lemon raspberry pancakes) with gold leaf.

The girls and Chozen go to In-N-Out: animal style burgers, fries and drinks S’mores made by Chozen on the leftover Cobra Kai pamphlets Lemonade from Laura for the guys + Chozen working on her garden and making a pond and Conchas Pizza and beer with Chozen and the ex cobras Mint chocolate chip ice cream on the beach

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

#root beer floats and green tea #food of root beer floats and green tea #long post #photos from unsplash a free use website

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chickensarentcheap · 2 years

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his first word was 'mumma'

2. He absolutely hates peanut butter and jam sandwiches lol. It makes him gag if he sees Esme making one and especially if he sees her eating it. Just grosses him right out.

3. First thing he ever cooked her was meat lasagna. And yes, she was surprised that not only could he cook, he could cook extremely well!

4. Not really. Addie is the girly girl, so she's the one that gets taken t manis and pedis and shopping trips. Brooklyn enjoys going paddle boarding with her. Declan loves to help out in the garden and with the animals. Tanner she bakes with. TJ is also a shopping buddy for her and helps out at the grocery store and bringing stuff into the house. Millie and Esme sometimes have a girl day together. Facials, hair styling, massages. But it's not very often. Takota, he just clings to mumma and he'll do anything with her.

5. His hands. They were the second thing she noticed after his eyes. They're huge and they're strong and she loves the callouses on the palms and fingertips and even the scarred up knuckles.

6. The first thing he noticed was those big, dark eyes. But his absolute fave thing is he butt LOL

7. If gets into fights, it's usually dad he will confide in. Tyler doesn't think anything of busted lip, black eyes, bloody nose, etc. Whereas Esme gets a little pissed.

8. He has a t-shirt that Esme and baby Millie gave him for his first father's day. He wore in the last fic, when Esme brought clothes to the hospital for him

9. Yes. He has. More than one. All with two women. And yes, Esme knows about them

10. Definitely Mac (Macaroni) the german shepherd. It was the first dog they ever got as a family not long after moving to Colorado. Also Bodhi. His horse :)

@tragiclyhip

#Tyler and Esme series

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zooterchet · 1 year

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Famous Assassin Recipes

Tanacharison: The filterless cigarette, a Lucky Strike, enjoyed with a gin martini. Two shots of gin, fill with seltzer, and enjoy a Lucky Strike on a brass lighter, a zippo. For VC nai poon. That's the lady. He always knew where the next war would be.

John Wilkes Booth: Take the Snake, a prison rapist, and the Loser, a bisexual informant, and switch them, with a peanut butter sandwich, Skippy, no jelly, bleached bread, Wonderbread, in high sun, with a Marlboro Red at the same time; remark, "flavor country", to the Snake, your mind's eye of the Loser. The club goes all the way back home, and there's a witch trial, on slavery.

Albert Whisker: Use a three pointer, a 3.5 shot glass, the Cantonese shot, to take a half shotter of vodka, cheap stuff, and a half shotter of orange juice, expensive, campus variety, and hammer a shot, before you snort amphetamines. That's the stuff, to get you going, to understand Chinese history. It doesn't go away, unless you've seen Disturbed in concert. Back in that day, we called him Bojangles; or maybe Scott Joplin, or Sammy Davis Junior.

Lee Harvey Oswald: Get a Marlboro Red, some nitrate car battery stomped coca (cocaine powder on cut, "pure", a CIA blend, nitrate phosphate, for the erection, or the transgender juices, if you prefer the ladies, for the ladies), and take a Bazooka Joe pellet. Demonstrate the technique, to the target, "the head crab", someone stealing a drug dealer's job to lay you, as a Freemasonic Ring (Mister President), to dab the powder from the gum, on the cigarette, then smoke it backwards, on the filter (I'm just a paddy, a poor Irish sailor). They'll need crack rock to get out, but only if they trust Jack "Hardy" Ruby, Charlie Manson (old Mister Lincoln, "he stinks", then you're shut down, the entire campus; you wrote 'nigger' in the bathroom, Lincoln was a drug dealer this time, 'again').

Martin Luther King Jr.: Order a beef tarte, the cheeseburger empanada, from anything labeled 'King', and if they have the tres luches, you've alerted them that "James Earl Ray", is in the area. A personal delivery, will be made to a black Senator's house, to see if you've received a coin, from the Nordic Lodge, the rival to the Lounge, the old athlete's singing joint. If it's Joe Frazier's Lounge, you win; you've just caught the last show to Delaware, Joe Biden is President. Like the King family wanted, a French President, since 1935 (improved traffic resistance, the last place besides the bus they can't get you; the King family, is the cops, they run the restaurant).

Sirhan Sirhan: If you have a charcoal grill, strike up a conversation, with a man with your feet. If he's a propane man, that doesn't know how to cook, he'll have your exact stumble, having studied you, to build a healthy intestine. Your mother, will retain cooking recipes, for his family's secrets, on cartoon anti-Semitism, a fat man, for the proper distribution of diet on a budget; for all involved, including you, the stock of frozen foods non-necessary to eat, to get you "off the bucket", and into proper ordering, fifteen dollars on a two dollar "squib", the fees and tip, on a twenty dollar meal, with an extra meal left over, for a three day "spree".

George Jung: "Boston" George Jung, wants you to know, that it is inappropriate, to drink whiskey, without Worcestershire sauce, hiding the steak's sauce, with a Bloody Mary. To beat AA protocols, mix the Worcestershire, in your home "furnace", the cabinet, with Jim Beam, the preferred whiskey of the CIA range division, the overweight cop. If you know a cop, who has ever been overweight, and he doesn't know he's a cop, give him a flask of Jim Beam (not a "fifth", the jeopardy round, you've just qualified as airman, you get free LSD). He'll figure everything out. But he's watching you, very closely, because your girlfriend, likes them big; you're listening to Boston George.

OJ Simpson: The bowels can be purged, through a heart seizure, a rare term of logic, invented by Jake Charlebois, at Minnesota State University, on the professional college team. The posture as Hitler, as an American quarterback aside, a bowl of whole milk, a full box of Cheerios, and a Friendly's Sundae, in the tin (now a plastic or paper cup, since the advance by OJ), can be used; eating the entire box and all the milk, then the peanut butter Friendly's Sundae, to seize the heart clamps, before the pain and agony passes, and a Marlboro Red is enjoyed, OJ's choice to retire from football to get his Wheaties Box (the first of its kind). The bowel chlonic, will unblock the hemorrhages in the liver, unless you die; you were eating too much mayonnaise (you worked food services, and are in danger of colon surgery; sorry, kid, not for the big leagues, bagging groceries).

David Charlebois: A Chinese sausage, can be enjoyed on a George Foreman grill; normally lethal, "red sausage", unless on charcoal, an easy cause of trichinosis, unless rigid cooking times are observed; impossible for the mentally ill. The press grill, however, guarantees a succulent taste, and a slow purge of the insides, the sweatest black meat you can afford. Any sausage, is delicious on a Foreman, but not like red sausage, the Chinese sausage; a boneless spare rib, lethal to Jews out of paranoia, but just delicate enough to please a Hebrew man's stomach if char broiled in a press machine. Be aware, if your room mate has the Foreman, and won't eat it, he's a traitor. Take his story of his background, and recommend it to a writer claiming Lutheran, as marked '88', Millard Fillmore; a history teacher, in politics.

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leagueofleaguesff · 2 years

Text

Laura 🦸‍♀️(VS)🦸 Johnny

*Wonder Woman is transported to a field. High above The Guardians are shooting at her from space*

*She scoffs & calmly walks since drax has terrible are bad aim*

*The Guardians scramble in panic on the ship while StarLord questions his crew and their bad aim. He begins to press a whole bunch of convenient hologram buttons to speed up the ship*

StarLord: Come on guys! You all suck at shooting. Like we are Guardians...we're gonna look weak if we can hit one person with all these guns.

Rocket: Well don't blame the guns. I calibrated them-

Groot: I am groot?

Rocket: Not now Groot (sternly).

Drax: Yeah not now Groot. An epic battle is upon us.

Gamora: Do you even know what he said?

Drax: Who is "he"?

Nebula: Not "he" you idiot. Groot!

Drax: What about Groot?

Yondu: Ah forget it. Lets show you how real Ravengers get down. How bouts it buddy? Let's ram her with the ship.

*StarLord slowly turns his head*

StarLord: Are you an idiot?!

Drax: I thought "Groot" was the idiot?

Rocket: You are.

Drax: Who is "you"?

Nebula: Not the literal word "you" -

*Nebula begins to malfunction due to Drax fustrating incomprehension*

*StarLord and Yondu begin stirring the ship at warp speeds toward Wonder Woman*

StarLord: I guess we're doing this. You owe me a ship Yondu!

Yondu: Sure son its all for the battle.

StarLord: (looks surprised) You really gonna pay for another ship for us?

Yondu: (laughs) Hell no! I taught you better than that son (continues laughing). You really haven't learn huh?

*StarLord grumbles*

After the ship enters the atmosphere...

Wonder Woman manages to dodge most of it...

*StarLord does a quick whisper huddle with the crew after checking if everyone is ok*

StarLord: OK ok. This lady is like amazingly hot. (notices gamora mean mugging him)

StarLord: Hooo......hot garbage.

*Gamora punches his arm in disgust*

StarLord: I was gonna say hot garbage from the get go babe.

Gamora: I am not your babe (angrily)

Nebula: (teasing) Oooh someone is " jelly". I believe that's a term they used on this ugly planet to mean jealously. Why would you even have feelings for this flesh bag? It makes you weak!

Drax: Jelly? Jelly is disgusting.

*Wonder Woman waits as she is perplexed at the conversation taking place among the guardians*

StarLord: Omg the hot....grrrrgarbage girl is staring at us.

*Gamora punches StarLord again this time in the mouth*

Nebula: (laughs) Albeit funny, you are still weak sister.

*Gamora turns and places her sword against Nebula throat*

Gamora: Let us two battle and I will show you who is weak!

*StarLord grimaced in pain on the floor*

Rocket: I'll take that bet! But first, we have this Amazon lady staring right at us so can we get our sh*t together and come up with a plan you numb nuts?!

Drax: I prefer nuts over jelly. Jelly is disgusting.

*Rocket busts out laughing*

Mantis: Have you not had the jelly and nut sandwich?

*Groot laughs along with Rocket*

StarLord: You're saying backwards...its all wrong (holding his bloody mouth). Its peanut butter and jelly alright. Have you not have pb and j? Its delicious.

Drax: Nuts are delicious (Groot and Rocket laugh harder in the background). What? They are. I pick them from the tree.

StarLord: What tree?

*Drax points at Groot who suddenly stops laughing*

Rocket: OK this took a turn. Are you saying what i think you're saying?

Groot: I am groot? (pointing at himself)

Drax: Yes the tree man grows 2 nuts every week or so. I wait until he is deep in slumber and I pluck them. Did I mention they are delicious?

*Everyone including Wonder Woman pauses. They all begin to throw up or spit up in disgust*

Drax: What? Is he not a tree? Can I not eat peanuts?

Yondu: Say peanuts ten times as fast as you can (grins).

StarLord: Yondu no. Drax....that is incredibly unethical, disturbing, and just wrong man.

Drax: I will not Apologize for loving nuts. They are delicious. They are my weekly delight.

Yondu: ENOUGH! Enough of this...what ever this is.

*Yondu conducts the huddle and Wonder Woman prepares herself*

StarLord: (winks at Mantis) Remember the plan.

*Wonder Woman notices and throws her shield while running at them. The shield bounces off wreckage multiple times defying laws of physics to hit Mantis and knock her out*

StarLord: Okay that clearly didn't work.

*Wonder Woman shrugs and turns towards the camera*

Wonder Woman: This took way too long. Lets have an intermission and get back to the recap (smiles). Am I stealing She-Hulks shtick here?

Part 2 of this Recap after this quick ad✅

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See whats next👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇👇

#Youtube

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