#quite the opposite you silly little chef

[misslovasstuff]

If Sanji ever gets to know about Pudding’s true feelings, I’d love if it was somewhat the same setting when he heard her say all those awful things.

Hear me out. Pudding is talking to someone else this time, be it a strawhat for example, and she’s really wearing her heart on her sleeve as she explains how she feels about Sanji.

And Sanji does not expect that AT ALL. He’s leaning hidden against something as he lightens his cigarette, this time not extinguished by rain drops but the fire gets so intensified because of his emotions that it falls off his mouth as he panics a little.

#just little silly scenarios that come and go in my head #it’s not fair not to know how people really feel about you yk #especially when those feelings are love #so I am not sure if Oda will ever make Pudding confess but #it’d be nice if Sanji gets to know that she doesn’t really hate him #quite the opposite you silly little chef #one piece #sanji #one piece sanji #op sanji #sanji x pudding #one piece pudding #charlotte pudding #pudding one piece #sanpu

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem! reader | part seven

summary: you and luca go to a club opening and take an opportunity to learn more about each other.

warnings: fluff, smut (18+ only), eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, slow burn, baby, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 5.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist

a/n: hi cuties. here is a long chapter with a whole lot of juicy content considering i've been gone all week. i'm also hard launching what luca's last name could be in this series -- something i've brainstormed with @arctvrvs and @superhoeva. there IS smut so please be respectful of it being 18+ only content.

also: mild implication on reader/mc having some kind of asian heritage, but you can super not take it that way, which is why i wrote joe's family as japanese-english. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part six | masterlist | part eight

“Cool shoes,” you say, your eyes fixed to Luca’s choice of Nikes for the night, instantly chuckling to yourself as you realize how silly the words coming out of your mouth sound. It’s like you’re a kid again, sitting on the back of the bus with her crush, trying to come up with something– anything – to say.

Luca chuckles, stealing a glance your way as he replies, “Yeah I've got a bit of a thing for them – trainers.”

“I… noticed,” you say, exchanging a look with him, your eyes meeting his as the two of you sit side by side on the train.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, there’s the coffee table book – that and you wore some to the ballet,” you explain, a blush running across your cheeks. 

“You noticed that?” he questions with a hint of amusement in his voice, only a little surprised that you’ve picked up on the little things before he’s shared them with you. 

“I notice you,” you answer, your voice quieter, yet genuine in your admission.”

He smirks. 

“And?”

“And… so far, I like what I see,” you flirt, boldly, this time. 

The right side of his mouth turns up into a small smile, and while you’re too busy reading his facial expressions, Luca’s busy finding your hand with his. You can feel it: the lightest touch that sets off butterflies in your belly, his fingers tangling with yours as you ride the train with him to Vesterbro, the humble beginnings of something good. 

As Luca continues glancing over at you, he shakes his head incredulously, letting out a small laugh in the opposite direction. 

“Hmm?” you hum, inquisitively, stealing a glance his way this time. 

“You just ehm…” he trails off, almost as if he’s not sure how to say what he wants to say next. “... you look… really beautiful tonight.” 

“Uh-, I-, Thank you,” you stumble through, deciding you’ll just accept his compliment. 

It’s not like you don’t know it – didn’t know what you were doing when you put on the barely-there lace bodysuit meant to be a lingerie teddy, that lays perfectly layered underneath your high rise pair of denim. The plunge neckline is cut deep, showcasing quite a bit of inner boob, so much of your cleavage, that you put pasties on just in case. You can tell Luca’s having trouble not ogling you as you smirk, giving his hand a confident squeeze. 

As you get off the train and back up to street level, you discover that it’s not a long walk to where the newly-opened club is located. Luca hasn’t let go of your hand and you savor the feeling of new love as the two of you walk hand in hand. 

“So explain to me again what all the drama’s about again,” Luca requests, recalling something you previously mentioned. 

“Oh it’s a whole thing,” you sigh, as you begin trying to explain yesterday’s gossip. “The guy Jesper is dating is one of the guys opening the club. I don’t think it’s serious, perhaps just a… fling of sorts, but Jesper’s ex-girlfriend who he dated for two years is a… well, she’s a bit of an influencer and it’s a whole thing because she’ll be there too.”

“Ooof,” Luca sounds, giving you a grateful hand squeeze. 

“Yeah. Any ex girlfriends we might run into tonight?” you ask, only half-joking. 

Luca shakes his head, “I doubt it. I don’t get out much.” He pauses. “Think my last serious ex-girlfriend moved to Spain a year ago or so.”

You hum in response, momentarily relieved that the likelihood of running into any of Luca’s exes tonight is low, considering it wasn’t something you’d worried about until the words were coming out of your mouth. You’re ready to wait in the line that’s formed outside of the club until you hear the sharp sound of Jesper calling your name, waving you into the club. You watch as he exchanges words with the bartender, while Luca mutters something to you about how fancy he feels about skipping the line. 

You and Luca follow Jesper down the long, dark hallway, the feeling of pulsating music and a heavy bassline undulating underneath your feet with each step. It feels more like a grungy club in Berlin than Copenhagen, but it seems like it’s what they’re going for, and you thank your past-self for choosing to wear something this sexy. While you feel out of place, at least you look like you knew what you were getting yourself into. 

“I’m glad you made it!” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he leads you and Luca to a table in the VIP area. 

“What? Thought I’d skip?” you shout back with a raised eyebrow. 

This time, Jesper leans in closer, “Thought you and Prince Charming would have a hard time leaving the bedroom now that you two are-.”

“Jesper!”

“What?” he asks with a shrug, looking from you to Luca, who sends you a quizzical look of his own. 

You send him an ‘I’m so sorry’ look before ignoring Jesper’s comment. 

“I don’t think I’m drunk enough for this yet,” you say, and you’re only half-joking. 

“Can I get you a drink?” Luca asks, overhearing your comment. 

“Yes,” you nod, before telling him your drink order. 

“Great. I’ll go,” he offers, though it’s more like a confirmation than anything else. He leaves the sweetest peck on your lips, earning a look from Jesper as you watch Luca disappear into the crowd. 

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t-,” Jesper groans. 

“We haven’t,” you interject, firmly. 

“You’ve got more self control than I would,” Jesper sighs, disappointedly as he shakes his head your way. 

Before you can reply, a pair of arms are wrapping around you as Mathilde’s voice follows with:

“Jesus Christ! Who said you could be hotter than me at my brother’s fling’s club opening?” Mathilde teases you, giving you a big hug. 

“It’s not just a fling!” Jesper protests at the same time as you, replying with: “It’s good to see you too, Mathilde.”

It really had only been a few hours since you closed down the restaurant for the night, but seeing the Mikkelson twins off the clock was a whole other animal. You can imagine a time, when they were both single, that the two of them could have ruled the Copenhagen social scene – two fiery forces to be reckoned with. 

“So have we run into the ex-girlfriend yet?” you ask, desperate to get the spotlight off of whether you and Luca had slept together yet. 

“Ahhhh,” Mathilde smirks. “No sign yet, but my money is on a fashionably late arrival.”

“What’s the drama? Claudio knows you’re bi. You and Sofia ended on good terms. I don’t get it,” you ask, curiously. 

“Because it’s Claudio’s big night. And I don’t want anything to fuck with it,” Jesper begins. 

“And because Jesper’s a big drama queen,” Mathilde adds, as her brother glares at her in response. 

“Who cares about how the night goes,” you chime in, from the perspective of an optimist.

“So you and Luca…” Mathilde solicits, raising her eyebrows a few times cheekily. 

“It’s good,” you guys, a broad smile spreading across your lips. “I mean… it’s really, really good.”

It’s good morning texts. And funny cartoons he sends you from the paper. And using him as a soundboard for new dish ideas.

“I’m proud of you, babe,” Mathilde smiles proudly. “For taking the leap.”

“I-,” you begin, before pausing. “Me too. I’m proud of me too.”

It’s then that you see Luca appear, just at the opening of the VIP area, headed in your direction with Emil following closely behind. 

“Hey!” you greet the both of them as they approach. While Luca has your drinks, Emil carries a tray filled with shots that you're not entirely sure you’re ready for. Your eyes widen. “Shots?”

Emil only shrugs, as Jesper corrals you, Luca, and Mathilde for a round of shots. You all pick up the soon-to-be-yours shot glasses, as Luca scoots over so that he stands closely, next to you. 

He leans in, the feeling of his lips ghosting over your ear sends a chill down your spine as he murmurs, “How much do you want to bet we’ll regret this tomorrow?”

“Oh, so much,” you answer, turning ever so slightly towards him, your lips inchest away from his. 

“To a night of letting loose,” Jesper shouts over the loud music as he begins his toast. “To old friends.” He pauses, toasting his glass towards Luca this time. “And new.” 

“Skal!”

“Skal!” you all echo as you cheers. 

“Eye contact!” Jesper orders, earning a laugh from you and another questioning look from Luca. 

Over the electronic music and flashing laser lights, you take in the sound of shot glasses hitting the table, the faces made in response to the bitter liquid, the whoops and cheers of a triumphant first shot of the night. 

You set your shot glass down on the tray along with the other empty ones as Luca asks you:

“Eye contact?”

“Yeah,” you shrug in response, taking a more flirtatious approach as you continue your explanation. “You’ve gotta make eye contact while you cheers or it’s seven years of bad sex.”

“Huh,” Luca smirks in response as you take his hand. 

“I think I’m ready for a proper drink now,” you coo, a seductive tone in your voice that Luca hasn’t heard yet. 

He likes it. Not just because it’s for him, but because he likes discovering these new parts of you, unraveling you as he goes, finding something different every time. 

And the more he learns, the more he likes you. 

He really likes you.

Luca is quick to locate where he put your drinks down right before you started taking shots. He hands you yours, then goes for his this time, raising his glass towards you. 

“Cheers,” you say with a raise of an eyebrow. 

“Cheers,” he replies, clinking his glass with yours with immovable eye contact. 

You raise your glass to your lips, taking your first sip, as Luca does the same, holding your gaze the entire time as if it’s a damn promise. Before anything can get too heated (because you swear the way he’s looking at you could start a forest fire) you hear the sound of Mathilde’s voice as she saunters over to the two of you. 

“Luca!” you hear her call out. “Come. Have a sit. I want to know everything about you.” 

You giggle, watching her usher Luca away so that she can bombard him with questions, and your heart fills with warmth. He’s here – meeting your friends, meeting your people – and you don’t even feel like running in the opposite direction. 

-------------------------------

In tandem with the loud, pulsating dance music, you move your hips in a swaying motion, against the feel of Luca’s tall, broad body. You’ve got your arms wrapped around his neck and at this point, you’re quite sure you’ve lost count of the drinks you’ve had. 

That anyone’s had, really. 

“Have I told you how absolutely ravishing you look tonight?” Luca rasps, leaning down so that the sound he makes vibrates right against your ear. 

You let out a gasp, the feel of his body pressed up against yours and the sound of his voice all feel too good. 

“I think last time you said ‘beautiful,’” you tease him, playfully. 

“Why can’t it be both, darling?” he asks you, grinning down at you. 

Instead of answering, you pull him towards you, pressing your mouth to his in a passionate attempt, yet very sloppy, drunk kiss. 

Do you want to get out of here? is what you think he’s going to say, but instead, Luca pulls back from the kiss, only to lean in once more as he whispers in your ear:

“Are you hungry?”

You laugh at the unexpected question, and suddenly, it becomes apparent to you that you’re starving. 

“Yes. You wanna get out of here?” you ask back. 

“Lead the way.”

Knowing it’ll take longer than you’d like for it too, you bypass the idea of trying to find everyone to say goodbye, and skip right to the Irish Goodbye, leading Luca out of the noisy club and back out to the bustling streets that are the red light district. The two of you are blissfully drunk and giggly as you sit on the train, on the way back to your place.

You’re more than grateful that you live so close to the train station, since it’s only a quick walk back to your apartment.

“I can’t believe those girls from the train were only just starting their night’s. Can you believe it?” you ask with a giggle, as Luca follows you up the stairs of your walk up. You fidget with your keys, unlocking the door as you continue on about how you’re not twenty five anymore and tonight’s reminded you that you can barely keep up now.

But Luca doesn’t answer your question. 

Instead, as soon as you close the door behind you, he’s pressing you up against it and kissing you like he’s going off to war tomorrow. You sigh his name against his lips as you kiss him back, completely turned on by the brute force of a man as tall as him. Your head spins as you realize that he’s only just started kissing you and he’s already got you this hot and bothered. You can’t tell whether it’s the alcohol, the way his lips move expertly against yours, or the way his hands snake up your torso, inching dangerously close to the exposed skin of your plunging lace teddy. 

“Touch me,” you gasp as an encouragement, impatient with the way your nerves seem to be screaming for more of his touch.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, his large hands moving to cover your breasts, only confirming his suspicions that you’ve been braless this whole time. 

This new discovery leads to another moan from his mouth as his hands wrap around you, pulling you closer to him. Luca presses his forehead against yours, abruptly breaking the kiss, his breath heavier, more uneven now. 

“Fuck, I think I might be too pissed for this,” Luca murmurs, as you try to catch your breath, knowing that he means drunk. 

You giggle, as you admit, “That’s-. Yes. I… too am very drunk.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he starts up again, leaving a small kiss on your lips. “But I’m not sure that’s quite the impression I want to leave on you either.” 

“That’s… so respectable,” you say on an exhale, in pure disbelief of how perfect this man is. 

“Plus,” he continues, in between kisses as his lips begin to place gentle kisses along your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. “When we do finally sleep together. I want you to remember. Every. Single. Thing. I do to you.”

You’re not sure whether you feel completely sexually frustrated or entirely turned on by how responsible of a decision Luca’s making for the both of you, considering the circumstances. Luca leaves a trail of kisses up your neck once more earning a moan from you as manage to get out:

“Fuck, okay. Just let me cook you something.” 

You both laugh as he agrees to the terms of your agreement. You playfully shove Luca off of you, knowing that you won’t be able to function much longer if he stays pressed up against you like this. 

“Wait here,” you order, holding up your index finger as if to say, ‘give me a moment,’ before disappearing into your bedroom. 

-------------------------------

By the time you emerge from your bedroom, you’ve changed into one of your favorite t-shirts to sleep in – an old, mildly tattered Rolling Stones tee that you once bought at the thrift shop back in college. Luca’s kicked off his shoes and has found a few of your cookbooks that he’s started flipping through as you pull an amalgam of half-full frozen dumpling bags out of your freezer. With your pan on the stovetop preheating, you silently offer Luca a glass of water, before leaving a soft kiss on his lips once more. 

You put a little music on, just something soft for the background as you add oil to the increasingly hot pan. Luca hums along with the song that’s playing, cookbook in one hand, glass of water in the other, as he approaches you, making his way to the kitchen island that sits directly across from your gas stove. He settles in, placing both objects down on the counter top as he sits down on the barstool you have tucked underneath the kitchen island. 

There’s a quiet intimacy about the way you move around each other, so comfortable, so familiar, even if you’ve only just met within the last few months. The sound of sizzling hot oil as you place the first frozen dumpling down into the pan adds texture to the symphony of your evening: your choice of music, Luca’s soft humming, the way the pan slides against the coils of your gas stove as you shake it. 

“Did you grow up cooking like this?” Luca asks, breaking the comfortable silence between you. 

“Uh… yes. And also no,” you reply, cryptically, ready to explain more. 

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Luca says with a chuckle. “You know… when I met you. When I first came to the restaurant… I was pleasantly surprised.” He takes a beat, taking a quick sip of water as he explains himself. “It’s just that the whole fusion thing got a little tired, a little too played out, but you seem to have given it new breath… new life.” Luca flips the page of the book he’s been examining. 

“And I recall you saying something about an Italian restaurant… so the Asian inspired flavors….”

“Yeah, no, it’s a great question,” you reply, turning to look at him as you let the bottoms of the dumplings crisp up. “So my mom was a single parent – raised me solo. Growing up we ate a lot of easy things… you know, like frozen dumplings… and lots of Stouffer’s lasagnas which… you could say that that combination alone is perhaps the foundation of discovering my culinary voice.” 

You chuckle, recalling your childhood memories as you share more.

“So no, I didn’t grow up cooking with her often. We didn’t do the whole… sit around a table and make dumplings for hours kind of thing, but Mom always has a bag of ‘em in the freezer and chili oil on hand. But yes, I grew up cooking like this, more so than anything I do now.”

Luca nods as he listens, his half smile growing as you so openly share about yourself. The way he responds to you – to learning about you – only makes you want to share more. It’s all true… but it’s not the whole story. 

“Do you have siblings?” he asks, curiously. 

“Nope, just me,” you answer, before deciding that you really do want to answer Luca’s initial question. 

“I actually learned a lot of this stuff – about miso, how to make a proper dashi, how to pleat dumplings – from Joe. From his mom,” you hesitate, before pausing. 

You want to check in with Luca, searching his face for any kind of reaction, before you proceed to talk about your ex husband considering you were so close to getting naked with him just minutes ago. 

“Is it okay… if I talk about him?” 

“Yeah,” Luca answers with a shrug, as if it were the simplest answer in the world. “He was a big part of your life – of you. And I like learning about you.” 

You accept his answer, trying your best to be cool about the fact that the level of emotional maturity it takes to respond that way really impresses the hell out of you. Realizing that it’s time to add water to your fry pan you turn your back to Luca momentarily once more. You add the smallest bit of water from your drinking glass, a white hot sound filling your ears as the cooking process goes from pan-frying to pan-steaming. You cover the pan tightly with its lid before turning back to Luca. 

“Joe’s family… they’re Japanese-English, which is really where I learned to start blending my own stories into food,” you explain, with an honesty that makes you feel incredibly naked right now. “His mom would teach me very traditional Japanese recipes when we first started dating – I think it’s how she knew how to connect with me, how we got to know each other, and I was more than eager to learn. we got to know each other. I… sort of always had a thing for food, for cooking, and learning things I didn’t necessarily learn in my immediate family unit… it was cool, you know? I just, I didn’t think it could really be a career, wasn’t my priority at the time to be an artist as the full-time gig.”

“But the more I learned from her, the more I realized that it wasn’t dissimilar from what I’d learned growing up inside of my best friend’s family’s Italian restaurant. And it all just kind of… grew from there. After Joe and I got divorced, I figured it was now or never, take the leap, do the thing I always wanted to do.”

“Opening a restaurant. That was your dream?” he asks, searching for confirmation. You nod as he smiles proudly. 

“And look at you now.”

“Yes,” you chuckle, taking a breath. “Yeah, somehow I now have a whole new life and restaurant in Copenhagen.”

“You do,” Luca nods, admiration evident in his eyes. 

You take a beat because the way he looks at you sends another rush through you, and this time, you know it’s not the alcohol. 

“While we’re on the subject… What about you? What are your parents like?” you ask, shifting the spotlight over to him this time. 

“Well, like you, I grew up mostly with a single mom,” Luca replies, as a flash of recognition flashes through your eyes. 

“Mostly?” you question. 

“Yeah um..” he trails off.

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t-,” you interject.

“No, I-, I want you to know,” he reassures you, a soft look in his eyes that makes you want to trust his word, as if he wants you to know him too. 

“Okay,” you say, softly. 

You’re not sure a man’s ever let you in like this before and it feels terrifying and electric all at once. 

“My full name is Luca Davies-Bernardi,” he starts. “...but I dropped the last part when I turned eighteen.” Luca flips another page over, glancing down quickly before he returns his gaze to yours. 

“My mum had me when she was pretty young. Got a bit of the short end of the stick when my dad left her and me. I was… three or four maybe? A real tosser, if you ask me.”

“Woah,” you sound on an exhale, as you listen. 

“Yeah,” he scoffs, before continuing. 

“He got another woman pregnant. Moved back to Italy instead of staying here with us. Apparently I’ve got a sister, out there… somewhere.”

You wait a beat before asking:

“And he never tried to keep in touch?”

“He tried,” Luca admits, a hint of bitterness in the way the words come out. “But I was a really angry kid. And as I grew older, I just didn’t see the point.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, empathetically. 

“No it’s-, I dunno,” Luca shrugs. “I much rather put my energy into my relationship with my mum. We’re actually quite close.” 

“Yeah?” you ask with a smile, because it really is the most darling thing you’ve ever heard. 

“Yeah,” he answers, leaning in to show you the larger forearm piece he has on his left arm. “I got this tattoo for her. She was a nurse… for most of my childhood. It’s what she had to do, so she worked a lot. I had a lot of time on my hands, perhaps why I got into so much trouble as a kid. Really put her through it till I started working in the kitchen.”

“You little rebel, you,” you tease him, with a giggle. Turning your attention back to your stovetop, you remove the lid and the pan for its heat source, before turning off the stove entirely. Giggling again you add, “You know, I’m just trying to picture it. 

“Oh, I’m sure I have a few old photos around my flat somewhere,” Luca laughs, as if it’s a promise that he’ll show you someday.

“Your mom sounds like a badass,” you sigh, making your way around your small kitchen island so that you’re standing right in front of him. 

“So does yours,” he replies, reaching for your hands. 

As your eyes take in the ink that adorns his hands and his arms, you drag your fingertips across the little designs: the A, the scotch bonnet, the nurse tattoo he got for his mother. 

“And I like them… your tattoos,” you finally say, breaking the momentary silence between the two of you. 

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, his eyes catching yours as you look up at him. 

“Yesssss. They are… very sexy,” you smirk in return, biting down on your lower lip as you run your fingertips along his inked forearms. 

“Glad you like ‘em. They’re permanent,” he preens, showing off cheekily

“Oh shut up,” you tease him as you place the gentlest peck against his full lips. 

He chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, this time deepening it. 

As Luca kisses you, your mind wanders to his choice of words. 

Permanent. 

Of course it’s too freaking soon to think anything else of it other than this: 

If it were up to him, Luca’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon. 

-------------------------------

As the morning light trickles in through your bedroom window, it dawns on you that you are not alone. You blink your eyes open, taking in the image of the gorgeous man that lays beside you. 

The one who you ate dumplings with on your couch in the early hours of the morning. The one that fell asleep with you in your bed last night, because there was no way in hell you were letting him walk home at 4 am. The one who's making your heart race and your head spin and who reminds you that there is romance in this world. 

Yep, that one. 

You slip out of bed, careful not to wake him as you get up to pee, the massive headache a result of far too many drinks consumed last night. You tiptoe into your kitchen, filling up your glasses from last night with fresh water before heading back to the bedroom. 

“Good idea,” Luca says, as he notices the glasses of water you return with. 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you ask. 

He shakes his head, “It’s alright.”

“Figured they’d be helpful considering neither of us are 21 any more,” you joke in reference to the water, as Luca sits up in your bed. 

Handing him his glass, he happily takes it before taking a few greedy sips of water. It’s a silent exchange: he hands you the water glass and you place it back on your bedside table before crawling back into bed with him. 

The way you fit curled up against his side feels better than you imagined as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, whispering a soft ‘good morning.’ 

“Morning,” you reply softly. 

You’re not sure how long you lay there, or how long it takes, or who makes the first move, but one minute you’re peacefully snuggled up to Luca’s side, and the next, he’s all over you, rolling you over onto your back as he presses hot kisses to your mouth, to your neck, his hands snaking underneath your favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt as you sigh out his name. 

“Luca.”

“Yes, love?”

You repeat your plea from last night – now that neither of you are intoxicated. 

“Touch me.” 

No longer hesitant, Luca grabs at your breasts, his face buried in your neck as he sucks, kisses, leaves love bites all over you as you arch your chest up into his hands. Large hands cover each breast and you moan as you feel his thumbs graze your nipples, your breathing becoming heavier with each touch. 

“God, you’re incredible,” he murmurs into your skin, one hand making its way down your body at a smooth, slow pace. His fingers play with the waistband of your panties, and he knows that he’s got you in the palm of his hand as you’re more than impatient for him to continue his exploration. 

“May I?” he asks cooly.

You let out a frustrated moan, anticipating his touch like your life depends on it. 

“Please,” you beg, a desperateness in your voice that you’re unfamiliar with. 

“Well when you ask so nicely,” Luca smirks, cockily. 

You wish you had it in you to roll your eyes, to shake your head, to tell him to shut it, but as soon as his fingers slip into your panties, your mind goes blank. He sighs softly at the feel of you, then puts all of his energy into sliding your panties down your legs, the wet heat of you already slick with desire for him. 

“My god,” he groans, as soon as his fingers find the wetness that’s pooled between your legs. “This all for me?” 

And you don’t even have it in you to reply, letting out a loud, keening moan as his fingers slide through your folds, parting them as he explores new territory. They move up a few inches, dragging your wetness up and down your core, expertly finding your clit as you hiss in pleasure. 

“What do you think?” you bite back, letting out another moan. 

Luca smirks, watching as you writhe underneath him, enjoying the way you look at his mercy. 

“I think,” he begins, his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, earning a gasp from your mouth. “I know. That this is all for me.”

“Fuck!” you cry out as Luca pushes his index finger into you. 

The way you feel stretching around his finger elicits a moan from him too this time. 

“You’re so tight, love,” he groans, as if he’s getting off to the idea of you. 

You fall into a haze as Luca begins to fuck you with his finger. One. Then two. And before you know it, he’s moving at a rapid pace, his fingers buried deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you calling out his name while his thumb comes up to pay close attention to your clit once again. You’re on the edge, ready to come undone, the coil that’s building in your belly ready to burst. 

It’s all Luca, and fuck, and I’m so close, and yes right there, are met with groans of your name, eyes that look at you like you’re a work of art, and hands that are intent on bringing you to your climax. 

“I want to see you fall apart, love,” Luca commands, his voice low and raspy. 

And that’s all it takes for you to cum around his fingers while they work you through your climax so beautifully. You cry out his name, your eyes snapped shut as you experience one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time. 

“Holy shit,” you pant, trying your best to catch your breath as you come down. 

You whimper at the loss of him as he slides his fingers out of you, both hands come up to your torso as he kisses you passionately, deeply, breathlessly. 

“C’mon,” he says as he pulls away from the searing kiss, knowing that he is fully in control here. 

“Let’s get you some breakfast.”

-------------------------------

a/n: IS EVERYONE DOING OK BC WOW THE SEXUAL TENSION

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

[starlightandetherealshadows]

Are the aliens at all impressed with any aspects of humans, or do they just find us inferior in every regard? Personally I like it when humans in stories have one or two things they're better at than the aliens, even if it's small things that are easily countered by the aliens technology

Hi my darling!

Absolutely! I'll talk more about it when I talk about life on Nion 8 (which won the poll, purrrr), but the aliens are quite impressed with Earth (even if they roast it on a daily basis).

One thing they admire about humans is their resilience. When trouble comes a-knocking, humanity fights back. We're people of blood, sweat, and tears. No matter how much time it takes, we persevere through hardship and never take defeat lying down.

It's one of the reasons why the aliens haven't completely eradicated life on Earth. Sure, they killed a lot of humans, but that was done the same way people kill in war. They stifle the opposition and allow the remaining survivors to live under their rule.

The aliens see humans as beneath them, but they don't underestimate the threat they pose. So, it is better to know thy enemy than ignore it. They allow just enough humans to live so they will be more inclined to accept this as their "new normal", but not too many where they forget who now rules over them.

Aliens from Nion 8 are also concentrated in their own cities around the planet. Humans can go days, weeks, months without encountering any alien humanoids unless they're near that populated area. The aliens are rebuilding their own civilizations. They aren't worried about the petty, small humans unless they stick their noses in business that doesn't concern them, and cross the boundary lines set in place by the aliens.

The hard thing for humans, other than you know..the obvious, is that the aliens left them with few resources and little means of acquiring any. That means that you're pretty fucked if you don't have a source of food, clean water, or shelter. Humans have either been left to their own devices to starve or not, the aliens don't care, or they've been enslaved and possessed to serve as lower-tier soldiers in the alien militia. Remember, story of survival! Yeaaaa it's all coming together *rubs hands together*

Now the alien humanoids aren't what you should fear on a daily basis...it's the creatures. Imagine the apex predators doubled in population and began chilling everywhere on the planet. Like you try to take your daily jog and a jaguar is rolling around in your front yard. Mhm...it gets real bloody real fast.

Whew I went on a tangent...BACK TO YOUR QUESTION!

The aliens are also impressed with how advanced the humans are technology wise. Nion 8 has some bitchin' tech, but they also have many different resources available to them. It's sorta like the alien's have vibranium and can create the Black Panther, but they're still impressed with what humans can do with their own metals. "Not bad, silly humans. Not bad."

Humans are also much better at living meaningful lives than aliens are. Life on Nion 8 is pretty pre-determined. There isn't time or thought towards hobbies, likes and dislikes, or free will. You have a position, you have a job. That is it. They aren't unhappy with that, per say. It's all they're used to. Seeing the humans be so well rounded and interesting definitely impresses them.

"What is this?"

"A video game!"

"What do you achieve from this..vee-deo game?"

"It's just for fun."

the aliens:

Many aliens also have a fascination with human food and have taken human chef's to their cities with the sole purpose of making them cook for their people.

The human chefs after thinking they're about to be sacrificed, fried, and bbq'd for the aliens to consume, only to be told they get their own rooms and just need to run their own lil alien restaurant (prompted with the threat of death, of course)

Nion 8 was in a silly goofy mood when they invaded Earth. Happens to the best of us.

Thank you so much for your question, sunshine! ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

All my love,

Cheye

#choice of games #choicescript #cog #ask: answered #ask: lore #ask: css #alien #romance #dystopian

[askcharaandfriends]

Chara! i know it may sound rude but is not meant to be could you please rate 1 to 10 your relationship with everyone? 1 being we need to work out some big issues/problems and 10 is we have the most awesome Friends/Family relationship!

Chara: um well... I don't know If I could just rate my relationship with everyone. But I can describe what I feel and how I think about them.

Dad- big warm soft hug factory. Always there for me. Listens and takes my opinions seriously. Not the best chef, but probably the best gardener ever. Protective and sturdy. Home is where the Asgore is. Sometimes very sad, but always tries to keep smiling and find something nice about the day.

Toriel- complex woman with a lot of responsibilities. Stuck halfway in between being a good mom and a good queen. Super kind and loving but with quite a lot of weight in her chest. Baking extraordinaire. Can make even snails appealing. Also quite good at textiles- taught me everything I know. Bit of a grammar police but in a gentle corrective way.

Asriel- more than a friend. My partner. Soft and cute. Kind and thoughtful. I can't imagine not being by his side. We are thick as thieves. Great at video games and has a superb imagination. Also not half bad at video editing. Sometimes a bit of a scardy cat and a pushover, but incredibly brave and cool when it really counts.

Sans- full of energy and puns. Loves his brother to pieces and will do anything for him. Parkour expert. Ninja skills. 9th level black belt in pranks. Secret love of junkfood. And socks. And toriel. A man of many secrets in general. But very fun loving, cool and caring.

Papyrus- well crafted puns finely aged in an Oaken cask. Equal parts silly and serious. Very cool without even trying. If he ever tried- watch out world! Loves his brother more than anything in the world. Depression disguised as laziness- but he's getting better. Mild sugar addiction. Astonishing capacity for forgiveness and giving second chances.

Alphys- anime antagonist turned ally. Gives amazing long-winded speeches. She deserves an Oscar. Highly opinionated and passionate. Hard outer shell like a hermit crab. Surprisingly soft insides. Fond of cute things. Highly skilled and trained warrior. Hero of her own story. A blast to hang out with except- ironically- when watching anime due to her opinions often Clashing with mine. We're like epic rivals.

Undyne- an excellent mad scientist. Brilliant and creative inventor. Very enthusiastic about her work and her girlfriend. Prefers to show rather than tell. Surprisingly Pyro for a fish lady. Almost always exciting. But also has a soft and sad side that she likes to sweep under the rug. She has a good heart though and is loyal to a fault.

Tem- the unreformed Stitch in my life. Little gremlin. Mild chaos. They're a lot of fun at the best of times. At the worst of times... well at least they aren't bent on causing permanent damage anymore. Cranky chihuahua. Grumpy cat. Lonely haunted doll. They say they don't feel anything and literally do not have those emotions, but I don't know. They must be really good at acting because they feel genuine enough sometimes. Even if they don't have a SOUL, they must have some kind of echo of one or else why can they get so mad when I destroy them in smashbros? Out of everyone they seem to tolerate me the most. I think it's because I remind them of their best friend....even though we are nothing alike.

Napstaton- an amazing dj and super cool and chill. Surprisingly shy for a world famous celebrity. Seems like they like to party but in reality big crowds drain their batteries really fast. Greatly prefers to just vibe.

Hapstablook- pretty much the opposite of his cousin but not in a bad way. The undead of the party. A trendsetter and fashionista. Loud and highly opinionated- somehow more than Alphys. Sometimes pushy. Completely glamorous. Kept trying to dress me up until I put my foot down. But He's cool and respects my fashion choices, even if he doesn't always agree.

Dr Hermann- mysterious scientist from the space between spaces, but apparently not originally from there. Apparently Sans and Papyrus' mom. Didn't get to raise her boys as much as she would have liked. Seems loving and caring and glad to be back. Also somehow a Latina even though many generations of monsters were under Canada.... though I suppose it's not that strange. It explains why both Sans and Papyrus occasionally break out in to Spanish.

#long post #fun little interaction #about the character #character opinion #about everybody

[repulsiveliquidation]

hi, I’m new to woso tumblr and I’ve been looking at your blog and really enjoy your fics. Just wanted to know more things about you so I have some questions below:

- how do you look like

- what are you looking for in a partner

- hobbies besides writing

- fun fact about you

thanks!

hello, that's very sweet of you!

a little get to know me for those who are new :)

i'm 5'5, long greyish blonde hair (natural color is black/really dark brown), semi-athletic build with wide shoulders but short torso, long legs. i wear glasses.

i want someone who is loyal and kind, sweet but can be silly, determined and smart but humble and ultimately themselves around me. i am introverted so someone who is the opposite is quite often what i'm attracted to simply because it brings out that side of me when i get comfortable.

i play golf at a college level and can be out there for hours but i also love soccer and very recently, basketball! i also love to read, sing and cook! i am a very good chef and can make most things delicious the first try.

i taught myself how to sing better and can figure out songs by ear. i can also "listen" to music in my head and while i write there is a play-by-play movie in my head of how the scene is going as i write!

#liquidation asks

[cultgambles]

BNHA Soulmate AU

I know I did one for mysme (more than 2 years ago omg!) but BNHA deserves one too

Yes..i do realize how random this list is ? i dont care

Word count: 1200

Masterlist | Requests? open

Hawks: it’s impossible to lie to your soulmate/the truth comes out

You were just a pastry chef down near Hawks’ agency

“So, I heard you made pretty good treats here?” he asked one day, stepping up to the counter

Not a normal Tuesday anymore, huh?

“Yup! I think they’re pretty good. Anything you’re dying to try?”

“Yeah, you--” Hawks’ slapped a gloved hand over his mouth, mustering up the most apologetic look he could do

“Ha ha, I heard you were a charmer! I just didn’t expect you to be quite this forward. How about a chocolate croissant?” you blushed.

“Sure, that sounds great..”

“700 yen please!” Hawks drops the coins in your palm. You hand him the pastry and tell him to come again, to which he says he definitely will

He does, the next day, and the next, and even the one after that

Your shop is also getting more popular too, since his fans want to try and get a look see at him

“So, Hawks, how’s your hero work going?” You ask him one calm afternoon. He’s sitting at one of the booths, and you’re sweeping.

“S’aight. Spying for the league, no biggie.”

“HUH?”

“You weren’t...supposed to know that.” his eyes turn to slits and he stands, not much taller than you, but his wings make him look massive.

“Hey, hey! I’m not gonna tell anyone!” you throw your hands up. “Cross my heart and hope to die!”

“Well I don’t want you to die,” he sighs, “it’s strange, I can’t seem to keep any secrets to myself around you, I just wanna tell you everything.”

“I feel the same. That day we met, and you said that, I was ready to drop everything and leave with you just to please you.”

“Is that so?” he grins.

 Every time one of you tries to lie or hold back what you’re truly thinking, it’s like a burning in your chest 

One time y’all had a competition to see how long you could do it

Keigo won

He likes knowing you’re always transparent to him, much better than the commission

Aizawa: before meeting in real life, you meet in the dream world

Why is he always sleeping? Oh, cuz he’s tired from hero work, and he also gets to see you

Damn timezones, damn you for living in California…

“Sensei,” it’s three in the afternoon, don’t you think we should be in a lesson right now? Iida asks.

“It’s 10 at night in California,” he mumbles, turning over in his sleeping bag.

“What did he mean by that?” the others wonder aloud.

In the dream world, he sees you in a meadow filled with wildflowers

Your hair splayed out, the grass tickling your nose

“Shota! You’re here!” you laugh, “come lay in the flowers with me!”

“Hi, [Y/N],” he smiles, laying opposite to you

“What’s happening in Japan?”

“The villains have been acting up, but the kids are working just as hard at their own studies and quirks. How are you?” Aizawa laces his long fingers with yours

“That’s nice, I’m sure they appreciate such a good teacher. And there was a storm a couple days ago, so rainy.”

“Come visit me”

“Now?”

“Of course now” he says, serious as a heart attack 

It takes a lot of convincing, but he manages to do it

Only, you don’t tell him, so while you’re on your flight, he’s sleeping in class and you’re awake doing a crossword and he’s looking for u in the dreamscape like --where they at lmao

He comes home from work to see you sitting on his door mat

So mad you didn’t tell him lol

Edgeshot: your shadow is the same shape as your soulmate, and same for them

First of all, petition to have more edgeshot in fics LIKE...have you heard his sub voice? So fucking hot--

Anyways

You have a weird shape in general (cuz his hair) and then for it to just get real skinny sometimes? It’s just like whaaaaa

His (your shadow) is more normal person shape

Honestly finds you one day from just doing hero work

Happens to glance down as he’s changing his arm into a blade and sees it happen

You approach him after he’s on the ground with Mt. Lady for photos

And he made and off hand comment about how he thinks he saw your shadow changed but wasn’t too sure

So he invited you to dinner just to make sure what he saw was correct

Respectful guy 

Love him

Dabi: initials tattooed on your person 

T.T was written on the inside of your left wrist, and you always covered it with a yellow ribbon. 

Your mother had told you how detrimental soulmates were, especially since hers had left the two of you one summer evening

Sometimes it made you sad that she instilled that belief in you, but it quickly goes away since you basically live in the worst parts of town

There’s more important things to worry about than a silly soulmate, and obviously they aren’t that forever

Thus you found yourself in the League of Villains

It was the night Dabi and Toga stumbled in.

He said, “I go by Dabi now,” and you were curious.

You observed him like he did the whole group, his gaze never staying on you for long, but flitting over to you frequently

Dabi kept his distance from practically everyone, however he did like your no-nonsense personality and the fact that you didn’t bother him like everyone else

Unless for missions, that was really the only time he talked to you

He was curious about your ribbon though, but he kept that inside

He’s not stupid, it must be for some soulmate

Probably left you and that’s why you’re in the league, and you cover it up like you’re ashamed

He had a mark too, long ago, before it burnt off with the rest of his skin on his wrist

Some of it must still be there though, that area is slightly more raised than the rest

He tries not to think about it

Day of him telling the world who he is

Both your wrists feel hot

You untie your ribbon, and it looks the same, perhaps a little darker?

You stare at him, watching Dabi

He briefly looks down at his own wrist and then back at you

You barely notice his lips turn upwards, and then he turns around to do his lil dancey dance

Honestly don’t see him for a while after that, he’s having cool down time

Knocks on your door at the hideout one evening

“So it’s you?”

“It’s me”

He takes you up to the roof, and y’all just sit in silence

But a good silence...you think. Honestly hard to tell.

Soon enough, he grabs your arm and runs his fingers over his initials

“Touya Todoroki, it’s a great name,” you parrot back to him softly

“Your name ain’t that bad either, dollface”

#bnha headacanons #mha headcanons #soulmate au #dabi #hawks #edgeshot #aizawa #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #edgeshot x reader #aizawa x reader #fanfic #anime #boku no hero academia

[fleetingpieces]

My One in a Million Chapter 8

Hiiiii! I'm back from the dead and finally got back to writing again <3

Sorry it took ages—and sorry it's not a great chapter— but thank you so much everyone for the patience and support, it means so much!

Thank you @inloveoknutzy @donttouchmycarrots and @knittingdreams for beating, love y'all! <3

Tag list: @whataboutmyfries @justdyingontheinside @heyoitslysso @sunflowerfox87 @hereforwolfstarr @potterlocked24-7 @ttylfedora @domesticatedbeetlenamedjorge @lovemeleo @im-lana

CW: Mentions of food

Ao3

Masterlist

Chapter 8 - The morning after

Remus woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. He blinked a few times to get the tiredness out of his eyes—which seemed to want to stay glued shut—and stared at the ceiling for long moments.

His first thought was that, for a second, he thought he could hear Padfoot’s laugh. Vague images of a dream he’d had came flooding back to him; long corridors, empty beds and his gaming console. The sound must have been a remnant of that.

The second thought was that the ceiling of his room was weird. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where the bugging sensation came from, but something was off and he was way too tired to figure out what it was. Maybe he should just go back to sleep. Groaning, he turned around to do just that, and that’s when he got a good look at the rest of the room.

He sat up with a start, regretting it instantly when nausea hit him like a wave. Closing his eyes, he stayed still until the feeling ebbed away, then opened them again slowly.

This wasn’t his room. There was no sign of any of his stuff; instead, he saw a big mirror, a dark wood chest of drawers, and a trail of scattered things that either belonged to different people or to someone with diverse tastes: a blue hair tie, a black snapback, t-shirts that at a glance he could tell were of different sizes, with stamps that varied from Disney to Strand.

One by one, memories from the night before popped up as the fogginess from sleep left him completely. That’s right, Sirius had offered his home to him after he’d found Remus outside of his flat; he’d come in to take a shower and had sat on the couch as they watched a movie and drank. Things were a bit hazy from that point on.

Had he really pouted and asked Sirius to stay with him like a little kid? Fuck, please let that be a part of the drunk hallucinations. He turned around slowly, glancing to the other side of the bed with his heart beating fast in his throat, but the spot next to him was empty.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Remus threw the blankets to the side and planted his feet on the floor to get some resemblance of stability, but frowned when he stepped on something. Looking down, he noticed a pillow and a blanket lying rumpled on the floor, next to his side of the bed.

A pang of guilt made its way to his chest when he realised Sirius must have slept on the floor while Remus was on the bed, covered from head to toe and warm. Sirius had been so careful with him. Every touch had been gentle, not invasive but rather trying not to overstep, trying to comfort. So, so very careful.

Remus felt slightly ashamed for thinking Sirius would take advantage of him. Not to mention for the way he'd bawled his eyes out in front of the man. He’d made a fool of himself yet again, something that kept happening a lot as of late and to which he wasn’t used to.

“Oh, God.” He remembered how he’d felt his mother’s hand brushing his hair before he fell asleep and he desperately hoped he hadn’t called out for her in his dream. Bringing a hand to his forehead, he could almost feel that phantom touch, tracing fingertips over his hairline.

He rubbed his face in embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Sirius after all that, but there was no way he could fall asleep again and a quick glance at the clock on the opposite wall told him it was barely eight in the morning. It was still too early to call Leo or go back to the clinic, plus he didn’t know how everything had panned out.

Remus glanced at the bedside table where his phone was lying face down and stretched over to grab it. He flipped it from hand to hand, back and forth, the small thing weighing him down every time it fell on his palm with a soft thud.

He could call.

He should call.

But what if something had gone wrong? What if Cocoa had had a complication during the night? Would they have notified him already if that was the case? Did he want to find out like this, far away from him and helpless to do anything? He didn’t want to show any more weaknesses in front of Sirius, he’d already shown more of his vulnerable side than he’d ever intended to.

Nodding to himself, Remus got up and threw the phone on the bed. He took two steps towards the door. The doctor had told him to go in the afternoon; he could wait a couple of hours before going back to the clinic and then he would know and—

A huff escaped him as Remus hurried back and dialed the number, plopping down on the mattress.

“Thank you for calling Mercy Animal Clinic. This is Jennifer, how can I help you?”

“Yes, hi, my name is Remus? I brought my dog in last night for chocolate poisoning and I—I was just calling to check on him?”

“Of course, Sir. What is the patient's name?”

“Cocoa,” said Remus, gripping his phone a bit tighter. Jennifer hummed and asked for a few more details to confirm his identity, to which Remus replied on autopilot, his mind going blank in a subconscious attempt to protect himself.

“Just a second, please.”

Remus busied himself counting the floorboards while he waited, trying to calm his nerves, but it had the opposite effect as he became very aware of how long Jennifer was taking to find what he wanted to know. He’d started tapping his foot when the receptionist finally came back on the other end of the line.

“Yes, everything was ok during the night and Cocoa will be ready to go home after lunch,” they said cheerfully.

Remus’ breath stopped completely and then he exhaled loudly. He could have sworn he felt his heart unclench, invisible fingers letting go of their painful grip and allowing blood to stream freely again. His shoulders dropped, releasing all the pent up tension that had been building there since he’d stepped into his apartment the night before, and he laid down, covering his eyes with his free arm.

“Sir?” Jennifer said hesitantly.

“Yes. Ok. Ok. Thanks, I’ll be there.” He hung up and let the phone fall at his side.

The silence of the room was an echo of his own head as Remus tried to let the words sink in. He peeked at the ceiling from under his arm. Cocoa was fine. The phrase repeated itself a few times until Remus took a deep breath and swung himself up.

The hall was quiet outside of the room, but he could hear some noises coming from ahead. Remus bunched the sleeves of the jumper he was wearing, not too willing to admit how comfy and warm he was in Sirius’ clothes. Especially not when he was assaulted by memories of Sirius helping him walk through this same corridor the night before and Remus almost gave in to the embarrassment. Sirius probably thought he was pathetic.

Groaning, he steeled himself as he padded the rest of the way, but his step faltered before going into the kitchen, a hand rising to settle on the wall. Something smelled amazing in there. Like melted butter and Saturday mornings back home, with his mom humming as she stood by the stove and the sun streamed in through the open windows. The sound of the sizzling pan was accompanied by a rock song playing in the background, a cool guitar distortion filling the room, followed by a gravelly voice singing a capella.

And there was Sirius in the middle of it all, moving around the kitchen gracefully, head bopping and singing into a ladle. He slid across the floor like Tom Cruise in that old movie as he moved to the fridge and a chuckle bubbled out of Remus’ chest, taking with it most of the heaviness still clinging to him.

Sirius jumped up, accidentally closing the fridge door with a bang, and turned to face Remus fully. It was only then that Remus realized what he was wearing: he had black ripped jeans and a black tee, his hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail; and on top of all that, he had one of those aprons that had a buff man printed on the front, that read “Kiss the chef”.

Remus stared for so long that Sirius followed his gaze and looked down, only to look back up quickly with a blush. “It was James’ idea of a joke.”

James, as Remus was quickly learning, took special pleasure in teasing his friends, although Lily claimed he always failed when it came to her. But Sirius clearly treasured anything that came from his best friend, no matter how silly or awkward.

Clearing his throat, Remus stepped into the kitchen and peered at the stove. “What are you making?”

“Pancakes!” Sirius exclaimed, seemingly glad for the rapid move of the subject. “I thought you could use some hangover breakfast,” he added with a shrug before turning back to the mixing bowl on the counter.

“Oh,” Remus said dumbly, taken by surprise. He scrambled for something to add. “Did you get the recipe from the same place as those cookies?”

Sirius spluttered and threw an offended look over his shoulder. “Mon Dieu, I’m never going to live that down, am I? I’ll have you know, these are my speciality. But I won’t give you anything if you keep that attitude up.”

Laughing quietly, Remus breathed a sigh of relief that Sirius wasn't looking at him with pity or mentioning his sorry state from the night before. So much had happened between them in just one day, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act anymore. He shuffled awkwardly to the island and, as he leaned on it, the name of the song Sirius had been dancing to dawned on him.

“I can’t believe you’re actually listening to Black Dog,” Remus said, covering his face, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Hey,” Sirius turned to point at him with the batter-covered ladle, “Plant speaks to me on a spiritual level. I’m sending good vibes to Cocoa.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, making an effort to keep the corners of his mouth down. “You do know that the lyrics have nothing to do with dogs, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s the feeling that counts,” he waved his hand dismissively, sending a few vanilla-colored drops flying, “and the song title.” Smiling at that logic, Remus shook his head—as weird as it was, he found it reassuring. Sirius peered at him as he flipped the golden pancakes easily. “I’m glad you look better. How are you feeling?”

Remus tensed up, but it didn’t look like Sirius was making fun of him. Focusing on some point by his feet, he rubbed at his neck. "Yeah, um. Thank you for your help. And sorry about...everything. I guess it was one thing after the other and it was just too much.”

“We’ve been through this, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Sirius smiled tentatively. “Have they contacted you from the vets?”

“Actually, I called just now.” His heart rate picked up as excitement coursed through his body. Saying the words aloud made them even more real, allowed them to settle in and gave way to tiny pinpricks of impatience. “They said everything’s good. I can bring him home after lunch.”

Sirius turned to face him fully and his hand went to grip Remus’ forearm, his smile turning so bright it was almost blinding. “Remus, that’s great.”

Remus smiled too, staring straight at him. “Yeah,” he breathed. After a second too long, he coughed discreetly and moved back. “I just feel like I won’t be able to relax fully until I see him, you know? I wish I could go over now.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Sirius said as he leaned back too, fingers moving to play with the strings of his apron. “Just a few more hours, eh?” Remus hummed noncommittally and, sensing that he needed a bit of a distraction, Sirius turned his attention back to the food. “In the meantime, can you get the plates from over there?” He pointed at a cabinet as he got the pan out of the stove.

Remus did as he was asked and brought them over to the counter, where an array of toppings were waiting. His stomach grumbled as he watched Sirius cutting up some strawberries to place over the pancakes and then drizzling chocolate on top of everything, singing under his breath to the next song on his playlist. It was all oddly domestic. It was nice.

They sat in the living room to eat, though instead of sharing the couch like they had last night, Sirius—now without the ridiculous apron—sat across the coffee table on one of the armrests. Remus took a bite of the fluffy sponge and closed his eyes with a hum. “Ok, you were right. These are awesome.”

Sirius had just taken a mouthful himself, but he beamed before he swallowed and licked some of the chocolate off his finger. “Glad you like them, Re. I don’t think my reputation could have survived another fiasco.”

“Are you sure this wasn’t just a lucky mistake?” Remus joked, if only to ignore the way his stomach jumped at the nickname, prompting Sirius to throw a napkin at him.

For the next two hours or so, the conversation was light and easy while the music kept playing at a dim level. But, as time went on and the plates got piled up on the coffee table, Sirius started getting distracted.

He kept glancing at his phone like he was checking the time or waiting for a call. Remus would have thought that he was overstaying his welcome—Sirius had a life to get back to, after all—if it weren’t for the fact that the man kept the conversation going and going, asking questions and gesturing excitedly when he was telling a story about how he and his friends had once managed to get a flock of pigeons inside a train full of passengers. At this point, Remus was pretty sure that Sirius was not capable of lying.

A lazy breeze drifted in from the open window, bringing in the smell of morning dew and ruffling Sirius’ hair so that a few strands fell in front of his face. As he brushed them back, he raised his eyes and pinned Remus with a look that was slowly becoming very familiar. That look that said he wanted to say something but he was choosing his words carefully.

Remus was pretty sure he knew what that meant. So far, everything he’d blabbed about the night before had been skillfully avoided—mostly by Remus averting his eyes every time Sirius looked at him like that. He wasn’t looking away now though. Wasn’t sure he could, honestly; not with such intensity and thinly-veiled concern directed his way. Sirius opened his mouth, the words starting to form at the back of his throat when Remus’ phone pinged.

He jumped slightly and went to quickly fish it out of his pocket, holding on to the getaway it provided. Talking about his behaviour or the few hints he’d let slip about his past was not something he was ready to tackle. A quiet sigh dropped from Sirius’ lips as he got up to take the plates back to the kitchen, while Remus stared at the notification flashing on his home page. “Oh, Padfoot just uploaded a new video?”

The sound of ceramic banging in the sink startled Remus into looking up. “Um...you ok?”

“Yes! Too much soap,” Sirius’ voice came back, muffled slightly by the running water.

Remus snorted and got comfortable on one end of the couch, resting his back on the side and pulling his knees up. He wiggled his toes as he waited for the page to load, digging them into the plush sofa and then tapping his feet when the video finally started. It began like usual, with the starting screen of a game and Padfoot’s cheerful voice.

“Hello everyone and welcome! You’ve all been nagging at me to play with Prongs more often, so I hope you appreciate how much effort it took to get his ass out of bed.”

“That’s so not the introduction I was expecting,” another voice complained.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to do it?”

“Why, yes, thank you. Hello y’all! By popular demand and because I know you like me more than this silly goose, I am here to play some games and have fun! Mostly at Padfoot’s expense.”

“You’re the only person in the world who could say ‘silly goose’ and not have everyone laughing at them.”

“I know, it’s a skill I honed for years.”

“What the hell,” Remus laughed, shaking his head fondly.

Sirius came back into the room, drying his hands absentmindedly on his pants as he took his seat back. He sat at the very edge of the cushion, leaning slightly forward with his hands clasped between his knees, eyes down.

Remus made a questioning sound, waving the phone in front of him. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Sirius croaked, gesturing with his hand for him to go on as he cleared his throat.

A small line of confusion pulled Remus’ brows together. Something was definitely going through Sirius’ mind. Deciding to give the man some time, Remus focused his attention back on the video and made a note to ask later if something was bothering him.

Padfoot was talking about the game they were going to play and Remus could feel his energy even through the screen. He always got like this when he was trying something new. Remus pictured him bouncing on his chair, waiting impatiently to start playing, tapping the buttons in anticipation. “He’s like a kid on sugar, isn’t he?” he said without thinking.

A cough came from Sirius’ spot. “Well, I… I think it’s...nice? He sounds happy.”

The corners of Remus’ lips tugged up in a small smile at that. “Yeah. That’s good.”

“Huh?”

“He didn’t seem his usual self in the past few streams. I’m just glad he’s ok, is all.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw how Sirius’ hands gripped his knees tightly, slipping through the holes in his jeans. Remus watched in silence but, just when he was about to ask what was going on, the video changed. A small square appeared on one of the corners, showing a man sitting in a chair, not much to see in the background, his face covered with the black dog that was his signature logo. Remus sat up straighter. It wasn’t often that Padfoot appeared in his videos and he couldn’t help the interest that sparked inside him whenever it happened. He scanned the small image until something caught his eye.

“Huh? ...Wait. That’s—” Remus froze for a second before promptly throwing his phone to the other end of the couch. “Oh my God.” He covered his mouth, feeling the pull of his mouth as a grin lit up his face, his wide eyes not leaving the small device lying innocently face up. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“What happened?”

Remus turned to see Sirius looking at him with a confused little smile, probably wondering if he was still drunk or just bonkers.

“He...he’s wearing my merch. My merch.” And one of his favourite hoodies from the collection, at that. “How—How does he even know about me? I know he likes to keep in shape but…”

The faintest blush crossed Sirius’ cheeks. He rubbed his hands together, looking down at them and then back up at Remus’ still astounded face. He took a deep breath and exhaled in one go. “You know, I’m...” He trailed off, mouth opening and closing a few times.

Remus tried to bring his thoughts back to the room, to the man in front of him and not the one on the screen. He bent forward to grab the discarded phone, his mind still reeling as he paused the video. “Yeah?” he prompted Sirius to go on when he straightened back up, smile still in place—he wasn’t sure he could wipe it off even if he wanted to.

Sirius’ grey eyes roamed his face, then went to the phone in his hands before they finally settled on his bright expression and he sighed, smiling and shaking his head. “No, nevermind.”

Remus tilted his head, but Sirius simply shrugged. “Are you sure? You can say it, whatever it is.”

“I don’t think it’s the right time,” Sirius admitted, letting his head fall back as he worried his lip.

Curiosity flared up, dazzling and hot, and Remus tried to water it down, unwilling to trespass Sirius’ boundaries. Instead, he looked down and tried to organise his whirring mind, eyes going to the clock on his phone. “Fuck,” he muttered. He really wanted to finish watching and keep talking with Sirius, but it was getting late. “I should probably get going.”

“Oh,” Sirius blinked as he raised his head up. “You can stay if you want to.”

“No, I…” Remus stood up. “I should go get the key from Leo. I will probably see both his mom and mine, which means it won’t be a short visit and I’d like to be at the clinic as soon as possible.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Stopping midstep, Remus turned to look at Sirius, eyebrows raised. “Come with me?”

“Yeah, to the clinic? You are not too fond of them.”

It wasn’t a question, but Remus replied anyway, surprised that Sirius had caught on to that at all. “No, I’m not,” he said, dumbfounded. He shook his head. “But it’s ok, you did a lot for me already.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Remus, anyone in my place would have done the same.”

No, they wouldn’t.

“It’s fine, really. Leo will probably come with me,” he said. He wasn’t sure how Sirius could think that everyone was that selfless, that any person would have helped an almost stranger without thinking it was too much effort. Remus chose not to say anything about it, knowing fully well that was not the case.

#my one in a million #moiam #fanfic #remus x sirius #siriusxremus #sirius x lupin #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black

[nkhrchuwuya]

✨✨✨

I really like your idea of doing this event! You’re actually one of my favourite chuuya writers out there and I feel that you write his character so well in your fics. This is actually my first time sending you a message cause I’m soooo shy about these things hahah. But curiosity got the best of me and your writing style is just *chef’s kiss* .

Alright soooo, I’m a female with she pronouns. And I’m the type of person who cares a lot, especially when someone is close to me. I will do basically anything in my power (and range) to make that person feel happy and safe again. I can be really affectionate when I’m with someone I trust, however I can also be quite shy and bashful. But if I’m in the mood, I can tease the hell out of someone and just irritate them with my silly humour and behaviour 🥲 I’ll admit right here and now that I can be quite the brat when I feel like it. I regret nothing lol. Also, my social battery runs out pretty fast when being in new situations or meeting lots of people, since I’m still an introvert and I don’t like being the centre of attention. But it gives me a kick experiencing new things! And, probably the most important thing for me, is that I highly value understanding and accepting of each other.

I guess that kinda sums up how I’m as a person? Basically a true INFJ hahaha.

Thank you for your hard work every time ❤️ I think it’s safe to say that we all appreciate you for what you’re doing while having your fulltime job. So please, take good care of yourself too 😊

hi hi! aww, thank you sweet! 🥺 chuuya's really dear to me and i get happy when you guys like my characterization of him! thank you for sticking out with your courage and messaging because i love hearing from you guys, absolutely!

here's your chuu headcanons, i hope you like em!

your affectionate nature is something that chuuya absolutely adores when he's finally in a relationship with you. chuuya might be one of the more "stable" members of the port mafia, but he definitely still needs a rock to lean on when he can, and for you to be around is something he definitely is so thankful for.

he won't need you to do much for him, really. there's little one can do about the weight that being a member of the port mafia inflicts on a person. all you need to do is bring him a glass of wine, maybe sit pretty in a dress he loves on you, and rest your head on his shoulder... that's enough to make him feel happy and safe.

there's not a lot you can tease chuuya about that'll really get under his skin (except, maybe, topics related to his former partner) so any banter with him is really lighthearted and fun. he loves messing around with you as well and it'll definitely be bonding time for the two of you!

he loves taking you to do new things! once he understands that thing about your social battery he definitely makes sure to find activities that you can really enjoy without feeling super drained at the end. still, whether you're into sports or nature or just plain old hobbies kind of doing new things, he's definitely there supporting you or lending you a hand in being able to access these things. if he can join... of course, the better!

your introvert mode really converts chuuya into a cuddle machine. he's not the best at recognizing when your brain begins to alert you that it's time for alone time- you'll need to tell him- but when you do he's very there for you in a non-crowding way and would love to help you recharge in any way he can. probably just loves sitting on your lap while you do your thing, really.

chuuya's lines of communication are always clear and open with you- once he's gained enough trust in you. there's not a thing he would lie about (except if it's a surprise for you!) and even if it's a hard topic he will make sure to brace himself to talk to you about it. oppositely, you best be armed with your valuations of being understanding and accepting because he has a lot of shit on his shoulders.

don't worry he'll listen to you too, with an attentive ear. he's just not the best at giving wordly advice so he'll mostly stick with physical comfort until he sees that you really need to hear him talk. he doesn't forget a single trouble you tell him about, and mysteriously, somehow you never encounter that trouble anymore in the future...

oh and also... be careful with that bratty side around chuuya. it's fine and all, he will tolerate it and he will be a good sport, but remember, he always returns twice as hard :p

overall i think a lovely duo! your advocacy for honesty and care amongst people is something chuuya greatly resonates with, and he loves joining you in your efforts towards it. i think you two will make lovely memories with each other, just full of lighthearted laughter.

#anonymous #chuuya's special someone event #nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #bungou stray dogs imagines #bsd imagines #bsd x reader

[millllenniawrites]

gold rush (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part two of dear love of mine

words: 2.6k

warnings: reader has a last name; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; afab!reader; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; pining; awkwardness and slight secondhand embarrassment possible; everyone is unreliable; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: WE’RE FINALLY GETTING INTO THE STORY IM SO EXCITED also we get a lot more Poe in this chapter which I hope you guys like!! as always, if you wanna be added to the taglist, there’s a link in my bio :) 

__

You didn’t see General Dameron or Lord Barnes until dinner that night.

They’d been busy moving their things in. Two more carriages had arrived shortly after the men, but they were mostly carrying Lord Barnes’ staff. With the grandeur of his presence, you were surprised at how little his servants had to carry into your home.

It did make you happy to see that he was keeping those loyal to his father employed through the renovation of his home. You had discussed the very topic at length with Mister Kirk, who had informed you just how easily those servant jobs can be lost.

And how difficult it could be to regain them.

You couldn’t imagine not having your staff with you. Your Ladies Maid, Char, had been the only new edition to your household that you could remember since Siena had been born. You were one big family. They were paid, certainly, but family all the same. No one else had been around through grieving your father’s death. No uncles, no aunts. But the people that had looked after your family since before you were born had been there every step of the way.

At the very top of the staircase you had tumbled down with Ana only hours earlier was a large circular landing, branching off into two halls. The western wing held your sisters’ bedrooms, yours, and the room your mother had moved into in her grief.

The eastern wing was seldom used these days. Since your father had passed, it had been empty except for the staff and your rare journeys to your father’s study for records and estate paperwork. It was perfect for your guests, separate enough from the rest of your family that your eldest sister’s virtue could be ensured without having to turn away the Lord of the land you lived upon.

He would be quite the match for her indeed, if he could get around to actually proposing.

Though you knew that you should have been focusing on Lord Barnes and how best to nudge him in your sister’s direction, your thoughts returned to the General.

You wondered how he was filling his time before dinner. You’d offered them a tour — well, Mister Kirk had offered them a tour on your behalf — but they’d both declined. Perhaps their trip had been long. Ana had not mentioned where they had been voyaging from. It could have been far. Lord Barnes had a few homes. The men in town had said as much when you’d been not-eavesdropping at one of the spring balls.

Only to assure yourself and your mother that Ana would be kept and cared for when they did marry.

Fussing with your hair could only provide distraction for so long. Sat at your vanity, you fiddled with brushes and clips and jewelry that Char had so neatly arranged that morning. Your room was beautiful, smaller than your eldest sisters and made smaller still by the shelves you’d insisted on lining the walls and packing with books. There was no shortage of beautiful trinkets, littered among the stacks of paper. Among your favourites, a bronze compass your father had gifted you and a necklace that had belonged to a distant grandmother you’d never met that appeared more like water droplets than stones.

Every time you allowed your eyes to wander, you could see the General gazing back. Your short glimpse of him had cemented itself in your memory, not allowing you a moment of respite.

He had to know how handsome he was to walk the way he did. Never mind how short your interaction was. You’d seen enough.

Another beautiful man, not unlike the Lord Barnes. The money, the fame behind his title and his bloody victory, meant nothing to you.

But there was something about those eyes…

Perhaps your sisters’ company would distract you.

Before you’d fully registered your decision to move, you found yourself out of your bedroom and at the bottom of the stairs. Your sisters and mother loitered in front of the dining room, chattering amongst themselves.

You slid in between Siena and Ana, linking your arms with theirs. “Are we awaiting something?”

Ana bumped her forehead into your shoulder. “You, silly. Shall we sit. Chef said she was almost finished with supper.”

Your mother opened up the doors to the dining room. This was one room that you were truly proud to inherit. Since you were of an age to sit up without assistance, you’d all sat at the same table. Your grubby hands had smudged across it’s surface. You’d traced the curved edge with the end of a fork at more than one of your father’s terrible business dinner meetings. It was as much of an heirloom than anything else your parents could leave you.

You sat first, at the head of the table opposite your mother as you had since your father had vacated his seat. Your sisters joined you in their chairs with their backs to the window, Siena closest to you.

She leaned across the corner of the table, whispering behind her hand, “How old do you reckon the General is?”

With a roll of your eyes, you whispered back, “Too old for you, dear sister.”

As if summoned, the man himself walked through the door with the Lord Barnes in tow. The General was no longer in a military uniform but a loose white shirt, the sleeves unbound. Barnes was dressed, jacket buttoned and hat tucked under his arm. Truly opposites.

To your dismay, the General sat beside you, leaving the seat next to your mother to Barnes.

“Thank you for joining us, gentleman.” Your mother lifted her wine glass to them, and you followed her lead.

As your servants set your meals in front of you, Lord Barnes broke the silence. “I must say, Miss Dean,” The title caught your attention, though he had directed it to Ana, “It is refreshing to see you after so long of reading your words. Though it was a necessary evil, I have needed to gaze upon you for some time.”

He was bold. So quick to flatter, and in front of your mother, no less. But you weren’t afforded the time to process his words before the General was cutting in.  

“A need, you say?” He echoed. “You aren’t perhaps attempting to rewrite Shakespeare, are you, Finn?” The Lord shot an amused look to his companion, who continued, “Does the line not go something like, ‘So are you to my thoughts as food to life, or as sweet seasoned showers are to the ground’?”

Your mother and Siena both sighed, as if you were the only one that could see the General’s clear attempt to flaunt his abilities. It seemed he was determined to be as infuriating as he was beautiful. And you simply would not have that in your home, disrupting your sister’s love.

“Did you have a lot of time to study literature while on the front lines, General?” You asked sweetly, glaring daggers across your plate. “Or was your time spent reading in an office far from the dying cries of your men?”

Your mother politely engaged Lord Barnes in a conversation as the General’s eyes flared. “I studied classics in school, Miss Dean. I can assure you, though I am a few years removed from my education, I do believe I remember the details of my years of study.”

“Did you attend a private school before joining the military, General? It would be a shame if your father had paid good money for you to quote sonnets on the battlefield.” Siena kicked you under the table but nothing could distract you from the fire behind the General’s eyes.

“I did, though it was of my own merit, not my father’s coin.”

“Lord Barnes!” Siena said loudly, forcing you to keep quiet as the rest of the table fell silent. “How long was your journey today? I don’t think you said.”

“A few hours. And please, do call me Finn. I think that we will all be getting to know each other quite well in the next little while and I must admit I am not used to the title, even after a year.”

“Then we shall.” Ana’s sweet voice broke you out of your anger. The way she gazed at Finn would have stoked the flames if not for how truly happy you were for her.  

Siena perked up as she discovered a way to insert herself into the discussion. “Do you have a favourite, General? Of the writers you studied?”

“The King himself, of course. Shakespeare. I couldn’t possibly pick another. Do you know of another writer that can so excellently balance the comic and the tragic, Miss Dean?” He addressed you, causing Siena to slump down in her seat. “For if you do, I certainly would not mind a recommendation. This summer shall be long without anything stimulating to discuss.”

“Oh General, don’t get her started on the greeks!” Siena faked a swoon, the back of her hand pressed to her brow as she deflated in her chair. “She truly won’t stop chattering if you do.”

The light behind his eyes shifted, the defensive fire from before becoming a curious simmer. “You’re well read.”

You chuckled unbecomingly into your wine. “You sound so surprised, General. Is it more shocking that I am beautiful or that I am a woman, as well as educated?”

Evidently taken aback, he took a moment to compose himself before responding, “I will admit that while both of those traits may make you… distracting, Miss Dean, they do not surprise me. I simply expected the future matron of these grounds to be more focused on her people, rather than a man’s education.”

“Are you accusing me of neglecting my duties, General Dameron?” Your sharp tone silenced the room.

He seemed as if he might be ill over the table before quickly recovering. In a soft voice, he said, “Of course not, Miss Dean.”

His grovelling could not quell the need in your gut to put him in his place. “I would hope not. Though I understand that perhaps the concept is foreign to a man such as yourself, women are more than capable of a trick known as multitasking.”

With a small, apologetic smile into his soup, the General ducked his head.

A rush of untapped power surged in you at his bowed head. You breathed deeply to keep from further injuring him, taking a bite of the soup in front of you.

It tasted of nothing. Chef had rarely disappointed in the years she’d worked for your family, so you were certain it must be you. The sourness of your exchange had need to be cleansed from your palate, perhaps.

A trip to Father’s study would do just the trick. And while you were there, you could brush up on your reading to ensure you were thoroughly prepared on the next occasion the General dared to test you.

“I do believe I am finished.” You pushed your seat back, standing and sweeping from the room without so much as a backward glance.

***

You clutched your skirts in one hand to keep from tripping as you ascended the long staircase that lead you up to your room, your nose in your book. The house was quiet. After your outburst at dinner, it couldn’t have been terribly comfortable to stay seated in that room.

Mrs Wex had not yet extinguished the candles that lined the hall, which left you to navigate in their dull glow. It wasn’t needed. You could have found your way to the room that had been yours since you were a child in the pitch dark. Or asleep. Or bound and barely able to move.

The violent thought was enough to stop you in your tracks. Perhaps it was time to put the books away and get some rest.

You turned down the hallway to the west wing, tucking your book under your arm. It was one that you’d read enough times to open and begin at any place without really missing any of the story, so you weren’t terribly worried about marking down the page number.

A shadow at the end of the hallway moved.

You didn’t have a chance to raise your book up to defend yourself or scream before the shadow held out his hands and stepped into the candlelight. “Miss Dean, it’s me.”

Your hand flew to your throat. “General Dameron,” The words were breathier than you intended, but you pressed on, whisper-shouting, “What exactly do you think you are doing?!”

The General’s sharp features stood out in the wavering light. His hands trembled. Quickly, he straightened himself and let his hands drop. “I was…” He glanced over his shoulder, back down the long hallway. You followed his gaze and noticed your door ajar. “I was searching for a servant. I hadn’t noticed how late it was, so I took care of my task myself.”

Before you could comment on the strange ‘coincidence’ of your room’s disturbance, you realized how close you were standing to him. Your gaze traced down the column of his throat, to the collar of his shirt that he had left unbutton, exposing his chest.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to look into his eyes. “It is not proper, General Dameron, for us to be alone together.”

He bowed, stepping away from you as if his proximity was the offending matter, not his presence itself. “I shall leave you then, Miss Dean. Goodnight.” With a slight duck of his head, he walked quickly to the end of the hall with his hands clutched tightly behind his back.

You gazed after him. He was a curious man, confident and near-boastful one moment, and almost shy the next. It certainly was not becoming of a General, who you would have more likely assigned the former description. It would not inspire confidence in men for them to witness their leader so bashful in the presence of a woman.

Once he was surely out of range, you entered your room. Everything was as it should be, nothing disturbed, aside from a folded square of parchment sitting atop the covers of your bed.

You unfolded it. The ink was still drying, but through the smudges, you read:

Dear Esteemed Host,

On behalf of myself and my colleague and friend, Lord Barnes—

In the margins, he had scrawled: Would he be as insistent on being address as Finn in the written form? I suppose we will not ever know.

You continued on reading.

On behalf of myself and my colleague and friend, Lord Barnes, I thank you for your most gracious invitation to reside with you for this tumultuous time in our lives. Though your mother is the owner of this property, I understand from your wonderful staff that it is you that truly manages the grounds, while your mother looks after your sisters, so I thought a formal thanks to be required.

I also think an apology is in order for my behaviour at dinner.

You had never known a man to apologize. For anything. You sat in the shock for a moment before returning to the letter.

I had not intended to offend, though I do believe this was the result of my actions. I truly look forward to further opportunity to hear of your studies and perhaps share some of what I have learned, should you wish to hear of it.

Your humble servant,

      General Poe Dameron

You hadn’t known his name. Poe. He’d scrawled the characters messily, perhaps through force of habit. It fit somehow, warm on your tongue as you whispered his name into the night air.

Perhaps you could entertain his questioning. It couldn’t truly hurt. Could it?

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #mywriting #poe dameron fic #regency au #bridgerton au

[pandawriterstuff]

Pinehallow Summary & Character List

This is my main WIP, if I'm complaining about characters doing whatever they want, this is them.

Pinehallow Summary-Monty, an eleven year old boy who has spent most of his life traveling from place to place with his in-demand lawyer mother, Irene, is sent to live at his uncle's horse ranch because she thinks he needs roots. Used to nearly everyone but his mother not being around long enough to get to know, Monty is more than a bit uncertain about this. But in scrambling to find his place in a town different to anything he's ever known, he finds friends, both human and animal, makes discoveries, and even manages to foil a plot against Pinehallow Ranch itself.

Character List

Monty (Montgomery) Cade Waller- Main character, 11, white. Monty is curious, bright, and more than a little awkward. He has a tendency to state the obvious, which can be endearing or annoying depending on your perspective. Big vocabulary and grown-up way of speaking because he’s spent more time around grown-ups than other kids. He’s quietly stubborn, particularly when it comes to being told he’s wrong when he knows he’s right. Insecure about socializing and friendships because of constant moving and traveling. Can’t hold a grudge for the life of him, even when he likely should. He likes bugs, birds and turtles, would rather read nonfiction than a story. Fills lonely afternoons with sketching, nature sketching on the ranch.

Irene Waller- Monty’s mother, 36, white. Irene is a powerful corporate lawyer, either full of energy or exhausted, never in between. She loves using words to sway minds and deciphering documents to find exactly what the opposition doesn’t want her to find. Sometimes Irene wishes she was using her skills in more meaningful ways, but also really likes the money, the traveling, and the competition. Has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of show tunes from musicals. She has a hard time letting people get close. Would stab someone for her baby, but knows it’s better to teach him to stab for himself. Only partially joking. Dolly Parton is her hero, and as much as she loves her music, it’s Dolly the business woman and Dolly the philanthropist that she strives to emulate.

Keith Waller- Monty’s uncle, 34, white. Horse Rancher. Keith loves working hard and getting dirty, and if he’s not exhausted at the end of the day he’ll be looking for something else to push him there. Otherwise he gets antsy. Loves animals and absolutely will not tolerate anyone mistreating any of the animals on his ranch-ordinarily he’s very careful of his size and strength, in that situation, all bets are off. Times that by about ten for any of the ‘barn rats’ that help around the ranch for riding lessons/time. Loves romantic comedies and telanovas and doesn’t care who knows it. Keith doesn’t read a lot, it never came easy to him, but if he’s taking a long trip he’ll always check an audio book or two out of the library instead of just relying on the radio.

Juniper - Keith’s goddaughter, 15, white. She has a calm, confident personality with a smile for most everyone she meets. If she doesn’t have a smile for you and it isn’t because her head is in the clouds over a girl, you’ve probably earned her scorn and will be ignored as much as possible. Juniper raises rabbits and it’s taught her patience, and a lot about unfairness when a kit doesn’t make it. She helps out with riding lessons at the ranch in exchange for riding time of her own, and has become a fixture, spending more time there than she does at home, and when she can get away with it, school. Loves sunflowers and her sunflower comforter is probably her most prized possession.

Nell - Caretaker/cook for the ranch house(would cooking lunch for the workers still be a thing on a modern ranch?). 38, white(?). Not about to put up with nonsense. Will make you cookies if she doesn’t have to put up with nonsense. Please. At one point she wanted to be a chef and has a year of culinary school under her belt, but quickly decided the super fast paced and competitive environment wasn’t for her. Anything that was making her hate one of her favorite things that fast could not be good for a person. She intends to live a long, long life and that kind of stress can just walk right out of the door. Loves to go on long walks, often into the hills (BLM land) behind the ranch. (maybe she was taught/took a class on foraging, and teaches Monty to find wild onions and stuff? But this would mean *I* have to learn about foraging in Idaho.) This leads to a contented, if often silent, companionship between her and Monty, who desperately wants to explore/record/sketch everything about the natural world of his new home, particularly the parts that are off limits to him without an adult along.

Ray- Family Friend/Co-Owner of R & M General (designed to feel vintage, but shiny. Bit of a tourist stop now, they decided to lean into it.), 50, Black. He uses his background in chemistry to make amazing looking candies and chocolates, using that to deal with a time he used it in less pleasant ways when he was in the military. He never expected anybody outside of his small town, or maybe the folks at the county fair to make so much fuss over them. This might embarrass him, if he weren’t so delighted. A cheerful man with a dreamer’s heart, a magazine once referred to him as a small town Willy Wonka. He dotes on his wife, often making and gifting her small surprises. An amputee in honor of my Grandpa (missing left leg at the knee, possibly missing one arm as well, but I’m not sure how that would affect candy making.). Has certain parts of his past he just doesn’t talk about.

Mavis- Co-Owner of ____ with Ray, 48, Black. Fierce and kind in equal measures, Mavis believes in protecting what’s hers, and as far as she’s concerned the entire town of (oh my god, it needs a name) is included in that. Mavis is very selective about the battles she fights, but when she chooses one she throws herself in whole-heartedly. On several committees around town, she’d be on more, but then she wouldn’t have enough time to really get into the work of the ones she loves. She knits in her limited free time, often while listening to the news, but sometimes opera. Has started knitting stuffies in the shapes of the more unusual candies Ray makes, it’s silly, but fun, and tourists and the local kids love it. Still head over heels for Ray, even though his often dreaming about things for ages instead of just doing them is also still baffling to her.

Leanna - Juniper’s sort-of girlfriend, 15, Vietnamese. Quiet, a little cynical, but very empathetic. She avoids the news because it’s that or be mad and want to cry all the time-until she hears about something she can’t not research, and goes on a 24 hour google search and learns far more than is probably good for her about a species going extinct due to logging in prohibited areas, or genocide being covered up by claims of violent uprisings. She loves manga and comics. Leanna sometimes tries for a cottagecore* type aesthetic, but mostly thinks it's too much work. She’s starting to worry about what she’s going to do with her future, and people telling her that she’s only 15 and doesn’t have to worry about it yet is NOT HELPING.

*even though cottagecore isn’t a thing in the early-mid 2000s this is maybe/vaguely set in. Shh, let me have this. Anne of Green Gablesesque maybe?

Winnie - Leanna’s mom, 45, Vietnamese. Widow? A little ditzy, but a lot loving. Everyone in town is convinced she’s the stoner type of hippy, but no one minds as she’s someone who truly wants to know how you’re doing when she asks and strangely almost always has very spot on advice. She’s rarely on time anywhere, but that’s because she’ll have stopped to talk, and often to help, whoever she’s run into. Leanna and her bicker over this when she’s late picking her up. Always wears bright colors. Loves Agatha Christie books. Calls everyone, even people 50 years older than her, hon.

Logan - Juniper’s stepdad, 40, white. Kind of a jerk, but most of the jerky things he says are actually jokes that fall flat or have simply gotten old. Tries really hard, like *really* hard, but has a tendency to get annoyed if people don’t appreciate his efforts right away-more in his personal life than professional, possibly because of his profession. A contractor, hard worker, loyal, has worked for the same company since he was twenty even though they don’t often treat him right. Sometimes tries to buy people’s affections. Wants to have better communication with Juniper, but it’s gotten really hard the last few years and he’s never quite sure why.

Candice - Juniper’s Mom, 39, white, works at a nursery that sells seedlings and baby fruit trees, has a cheerful, calm personality, but a lot softer and more lowkey than Juniper’s version. Very house proud, but has a ‘maximalist’ approach to decorating-everything is in its place, but there are places for lots of things. Loves spending time outdoors, but would rather spend it tending her garden than hiking or riding, preferably with a cup of tea by her side. On the weekends, a fruity beer or wine instead. Wants to go on one of those train rides where you get to drink wine, eat canapes and try to solve a mystery, thinks Winnie might be a good candidate for someone to go with her.

Ura - a ‘barn rat’, 12 and a half, white(maybe a Czech immigrant? 2nd generation?) . A cheerful, rough and tumble boy who is always climbing things, and often being told to stop when he gets too high for other people's comfort. Ura is fearless when it comes to physical feats, but has a fear of ‘slimy’ things like worms and frogs. He has a thick layer of pudge and a big appetite, but is athletic and strong enough that anyone bullying him over it would be doing it at their own peril. Not that he’s the type to start fights, or even finish them most of the time. Doesn’t feel he quite fits in with his family, who are all more serious, reserved people. Redwood is his favorite of the horses, and Keith has all but given up on telling him that sitting on the floor of Red’s stall to talk to the horse isn’t exactly safe.

Elliot - Ray and Mavis’s son, Black, 19 and a college student-maybe/probably at U of I. Lives on campus, but comes home at least a couple weekends a month. Has an older car that he and Ray fixed up together, that is his pride and joy. Quiet, with an irreverent sense of humor that he unleashes somewhat at random. Interested in robotics, engines and mechanics and generally has some project he’s working on, a piece of which may or may not be in his pocket. Often has oil, grease, or ink on his hands, either from working on or designing a new project. A bit of an overachiever, he can spread himself thin trying to live up to all his responsibilities at once. He’s best friends with Randy, a friendship his parents want to disapprove of, because the few times Elliot’s gotten into trouble not only was Randy there, but 99% of the time whatever it was is Randy’s idea, but never quite manage too.

Randy - Handyman at the ranch, mixed race Hispanic and white, 21. Technically head handyman, because the old head retired six months ago, and is a little young/inexperienced for the job, but he’s not the type to back away from a challenge and has risen to the occasion beautifully. Loves rock and metal music, and spends a lot of his free weekends at concerts, the ones crammed into little venues and bars where people are practically on top of each other and the beat is so loud and solid it throbs through you, connecting you to everyone even before you hit the mosh pit, are his preference. He’s been working at the ranch since he was 16, and feels like he has a claim on it, not afraid to speak up if he thinks a decision Keith is making isn’t right or that he isn’t taking something important into consideration. Can be a bit wild when he’s not being the responsible one, definitely doesn’t always think before he acts.

Alma - Local artist/worker at R & M’s, Hispanic, 25. Alma is a painter and poet, a confident young woman who’s figured out that half of surviving as an artist is being your own agent/a salesperson as well, and in addition to several shelves at the R & M that hold postcard prints of many of her pieces, both the coffee shop and cafe have some of her larger paintings displayed, and she always has a booth at the Saturday market, though the majority of her sales come from her website. Alma is cheerful, and likes to tease, and growing up the middle child of four brothers, is very able to hold her own in verbal sparring. She’s close with her family, still living with her parents, and while at first her father was dismayed at her choice of career, he now hands out her business card to basically everyone he talks to.

Miriam - Nell’s Mom, white, 71, a little deaf, speaks loudly, partially because of the deafness, partially because she spent too long letting other people push her around and when she hit about 50 decided she was going to be the one talking over people now. She’s earned it. Age has made her more delicate than she likes, bruising and scraping easily, but she’s determined to do most things for herself. Those that are beyond her she has no problem loudly ordering someone else to take care of. Volunteers a lot, often fosters kittens for the local animal shelter. Used to chain smoke, quit when Nell was a teenager because she kept leaving pictures of diseased lungs everywhere. Still uses the candy ones as a substitute.

Places

Unnamed Town- Somewhere in Latah County, Idaho, where there is not already a town in the way. Around 200 years old and has grown and shrunk and grown again, and currently has a population of about 12,000. Having grown out from a traditional mainstreet, _______ no longer has the western style boardwalk seen in old pictures, but it does have a large cluster of local businesses and ‘hot spots’ still along that old main street, a coffee shop, a diner, a combination bookshop and independent library, a hardware store, a bar, a few places I haven’t thought of yet, and of course R & M General. There is a historical barn half a mile or so away from mainstreet that has been converted into a theater/meeting hall/dance hall, and a community center was added onto it in the early 90’s. During the summer there is a farmer’s market on the property every Saturday. The elementary school and junior high are all on one property, several miles out of town, because the majority of families live on farms, ranches or small rural properties rather than in one of the neighborhood clusters in the town itself. The junior high is 7th, 8th and 9th graders, in a newer two story building, and the elementary school is divided into lower and upper elementary with the bracket shaped building basically being cut in half, K-3 on one side and 4-6 on the other. The high school is outside of town on the other side by several miles, and actually serves kids from another town(s) as well. There is also a trailer park with about forty units, not exactly sure where it is yet, but Miriam(Nell’s Mom) lives there. There is also an animal shelter, a vet’s office, a cemetery, and a couple churches, and I’m sure more things to come.

R & M General (working title?)- Ray and Mavis’s store, a general store with a candy focused twist. A vintage Pepsi sign, neon still bright, and a charming green glass juke-box filled with hits from the 1940’s onward grace the front porch of the R & M, along with a long bench that locals are encouraged to use for a spell or to listen to a couple songs, provided they can behave themselves (teenagers arguing over who their favorite member of the rat pack is might be amusing, considering they were already ‘mom and dad’, or at least older brother and sister, music by the time Mavis and Ray were teenagers, but when they get loud it also gets annoying.). The store itself still has the original wooden counter up front and built-in shelves along the walls, but all refinished and polished to a high shine. A mixture of display types going down the middle of the store, barrels and baskets filled with skeins of colorful yarn and cloth or Mavis’s knitted stuffies(and during winter sometimes socks and mittens), other sewing and craft supplies, display racks with local arts, postcards and carvings, sometimes wind up toys made by Elliot, and of course many, many displays of candies and chocolates. They also have a lot of dry goods, and some of the simpler candy types have little instruction booklets and the ingredients it takes to try out making them yourself stocked in the same display, drink coolers, and sometimes have local produce available. Basically, they have a bit of everything, except for building equipment/home repair supplies, and that’s because of the hardware store across the street.

Pinehallow Ranch-A sprawling 100 acre ranch in Latah County, Idaho where the Waller family has been doing something or other with horses for four generations now. Originally it was a horse breeding ranch, but Keith and Irene’s grandfather felt the money was in training horses, and offered boarding as well, and Keith has continued to build that up, offering lessons for a variety of styles, ages, and skill levels. Butting up against BLM land that allows additional grazing and trail riding, the ranch has four pastures, a large corral, a medium sized indoor arena and two horse barns, one for boarded horses and one for the ranch's own stock, and an equipment barn, an old bunkhouse that is mostly used to store feed-though Randy has slept there when in between places, mostly unbeknownst to Keith-and some smaller equipment sheds, placed where they’re needed. The main house is an L-shaped ranch house with a porch that goes around the entire long front of the house with a large herb/kitchen and rock garden arranged around that. There are treed pockets scattered here and there, left alone as the rest of the ranch was developed, but the creek Monty and Juniper sometimes hang out at is on BLM land, as is most of the forested area around the ranch.

Pinehallow Taglist @sleepysera @enchanted-lightning-aes @odysseywritings @thegreatobsesso @writing-is-a-martial-art and @hiitsolivia If anyone else wants to be added just interact with the post :) (My more advanced tumblr knowledge has led me to believe this is better than asking people to reblog/comment to be added, but if I'm wrong just let me know.)

#character list #oc list #someday I'll do a proper series introduction #and an introduction for me #but today is not that day #pinehallow ranch #original writing #I tend to build my world around the characters #backwards I know

[massivemonsters-giantguts]

OCS:

Bonnie Mubridgen - Stupid Gothicc Horse!

Species: Centaur

Age: 27

Size: 7′7″ (feet) tall, 9′ (feet) long

Weight: 1584 lbs 

A silly and not too bright centaur woman, Bonnie lacks the pride, grace and... brains that one would expect of her race. Friendly and giddy, she goes one day at at time with a smile on her face and living an (ironically) positive gothic life! Though all her snacking and munching Bonnie indulges in  has softened her up, she’s still stronger than a horse and has plenty of love in her body! Just be careful that she only smothers you affection, and not with her plush tummies. 

Occupation: Hauls around objects and works an office job for a a big name company. 

Rietta Vink - 3 Vampiric Feet of Sass and Fat

Species: Vampire

Age: Late 50s

Weight: Roughly around 180 lbs.

A chonky ‘n gothicc prideful little lady that comes from a line of vampires who have been figuring out ways to satisfy monsters’ blood cravings as well as experimenting with fun ways for the meat tolerant species to enjoy blood based/mixed snacks without risk of falling ill—’with very high success. Having high skills as a chef and chocolatier along with power that comes with her richness ‘n legacy, her pride’s gotten the better of her ‘n caused her to gain a… few pounds from her own confections.

Occupation: Chef! 

While her sclera is black and she’s got echolocation, Rietta can manage being in the sunlight for an hour or two without eye protection and enjoys the taste of garlic. Due to her stature (height and status), she’s quite rude and snarky to almost everyone—though there’s certainly a lot of crudeness tainting the perfect image she tries to project.

She might not be scary or intimidating, but at the very least, you can stuff her mouth with something to put a (temporary) stop to her boasting and whining.

Barlai - Big Mean Ghost Bully

Species: Ghost

Age: 38+

Weight: Heavy as hell when solid. 

Having died a good few decades ago, to what she can’t recall, Barlai had changed immensely. Where others would want to better themselves and change their ways, Barlai, despite not remembering her past… Very much did the opposite, growing wicked, ruder and twisted with her newfound semi-invincibility. Also, she got fat. Very fat, to the point where her ethereal body matches her bloated ego. 

After some time wandering around, she ended up stumbling upon the Blakiris–a monster crime syndicate, run by a short cyclops that’s more rage than eye. Unfairly deciding to stick around the crime gang (much to their dismay, Barlai had found her first and only friend since her reawakening: a boney lich who, quite literally, is the only person to enjoy her company. 

With only one friend at her doughy side, she’s taken to annoying the hell out of the people around her, stuffing her face whenever she gets the chance, seeking out new chumps to play with and continuing to be a very, very horrible person. A shame for the folks around her, but hey; She’s living her best afterlife!

Occupation: Haunting the Blakiris Gang - Otherwise, completely untethered and unemployed. 

#ocs #mun's monsters #mun's ocs #bonnie #rietta vink #barlai #rietta

[bloodywankers]

I think I messed up and sent this privately so I’m posting it separately 😭 😭 I’m sorry I’m such a boomer lmaoo

TW! Forced Relationship! Blackmailing! Implied abuse! Implied NSFW! Delusional Mindset! Yandere Themes!

Arthur—

This man comes from a rich family with decades of history so of course, it’s going to be a very traditional wedding.* A traditional chapel reserved just for the occasion.* Arthur doesn’t like overly extravagant things, instead, fussing more over the little details. Like the expensive champagne severed to the guests. The small, albeit ridiculously expensive, gems adorning you. Or the decorations.* He won’t leave a single detail out, only then will he be able to host an event worthy to be called your wedding.* You’re probably aware of how he really is by now, hence why he rushed you into marrying him. It’s an ‘insurance’ of sorts to make you bound to him by law. Though he’d like to get married quickly even if you were still blissfully unaware.* No matter how you resist it doesn’t matter, a few threats here and there and you’ll be set.

“Remember, love, we don’t want your family to get hurt, now do we?”

You better not cause any trouble in front of the guests. Do you really think they’ll believe you? Half those people didn’t even approve of your marriage, to begin with.* And before you know it you’ll be dressed in a surprisingly modest ball gown, with gems and accessories in all the right places with a bouquet in your hands and your father walking you down the aisle.

Other than that, be prepared for Arthur to keep a tight grip on your waist for the rest of the wedding. Just to remind you when you get too comfortable with any of the guests. Just in case you forgot who you belong to.* He’ll make you feel like a princess, at least throughout the wedding ceremony. He’ll be a gentle and caring husband for as long as his patience allows him to be. And unfortunately, his patience runs thin quite quick.

Alexei—

This man is quite possibly the opposite of Arthur, you’ll find everyone from celebrities to politicians at his wedding.* Extravagant decorations, expensive foods, high-profile guests dressed in the finest of clothing and all of that, hosted at a grand wedding hall.* Unlike Arthur, Alexei isn’t as good with his temperament so there’s no way you aren’t aware of his tendencies.* While he likes to act indifferent, Alexei always wanted a wedding, to see the person he loves most in the world walk the aisle and kiss him on the lips as proof of their everlasting love in front of all those people.

Hence why he’ll put just as much effort into making it the perfect event. Though not as painstakingly, it is still remarkable in its own way.* Getting you to behave was a bit of a chore but you were so complacent in the end listening to everything he said, even kissing him back when the priest announced you two as man and wife.

“I already told you I won’t be marrying you, you bastard!”

“You will, be getting married today, and you will like it [name]!”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Are you sure, dear? If I were you I wouldn’t want to tarnish my family name with all of those questionable pictures of yours. You were such a dear too, acting all obedient like that, a real whore aren’t you?”

He’ll have you dressed up in the most luxurious dress he can find, you’ll be decked out with anything and everything that suited your dress.

Jean—

The wedding will be small, at least when compared to the other two but it’s just so lovely.* An open wedding held in a garden, sweets and cakes carefully set up.* He’ll only invite family members and close friends, there’s no need for other people.* You’ll be all dressed up in the prettiest dress you could find. Jean made sure you felt special, after all, today was all about you two and your love.* You’ll walk down the aisle, a soft smile on your features as you stand next to your loving partner.* The most magical moment is most definitely when he slips the ring on your finger and softly cups your face before kissing you.* Unlike the other two, Jean doesn’t like grand or expensive events, he wants an event that stands as proof of his love, not his money.* The best way to describe your wedding will be as something you’d see in princess movies, a fairy-tale.

“[name] I love you so much! You love me too, right?”

“Of course I do, silly! Why wouldn’t I when you’re so cute?

Jean even made the wedding cake himself, he is a pastry chef after all.* He’ll make you feel special and loved all the way through even after the event, showering you in love and compliments.* Why wouldn’t he when you looked so adorable and irresistible? All dressed up and pretty for him. He’ll be a mess throughout the event, all soft and blushy and just so cute.* He felt like the happiest man alive that day and will make sure you also share his feelings.

#oc #yandere #original character #yandere art #yandere character #yandere oc #yandere x reader #scenario #Yandere scenario #headcannons #yandere headcanons #Yandere asks #yandere blog #yandere male #yandere ask #yandere fanfiction #dark fic #dark romance

[bo-bo-bean]

Memories

Memories

Zuke pulled out the tray of chocolate chip cookies from the oven, giving them a sniff and turning one over with a spatula. A beautiful light pecan covered the bottom of each one, chewy on the outside, soft and fluffy on the inside. They were puffed up as if air was inflated into each one. Already, the smell was haunting the sewers, set aside the typical sewer and sweat scent.

“Cookies are done!?” Mayday eagerly asked, sitting on the couch on her knees.

“They need to cool,” he told her, going to sit next to her. With a whine, she sighed as Zuke grunted as he took place on the couch, leaning back. Mayday, always enthusiastic. Zuke, quite the opposite. But he never opposed to baking and cooking. It always brought a… joy to him.

He began to wonder about ways to improve the recipe, but nothing could change. He didn’t want it to change.

“Zuke!” Mayday called. Zuke looked over with a confused look. “Hey did ya hear me?”

“About the cookies?” he tipped his head. Mayday scoffed. As cool as Zuke is, he sure is absent-minded. But she smiled and asked her question again.

“I asked how you cooked so well…! Like ever since we met, you made all sorts of recipes! Chicken rendang, Ikan Bakar, Nasi Lemak, all sorts of foods! So like… what, did you have baking class in college?”

“Eh, no not really,” he shook his head. “But you can say I had a teacher.”

“Was it Eve?” she wondered, plopping down to listen to a tale she would be ready for.

“Nah, she always went out to eat. No… it was West,” he smiled. “When we were kids, mom and dad were out a lot, so he and I cooked. A lot. He taught me a lot and it was fun.”

“Ooooh, man! The bros cooking and rapping!”

“Eh, only he was rapping,” he softly chuckled. “But… it was the best memory I have with him. Still is…”

And soon, Zuke’s mind wandered to young him wearing an oversized hoodie, hair tied back, going to his brother. West was wearing a tank top with baggy orange jeans, humming as he was setting out some ingredients. It was nearly two in the morning.

“Weessstt…” he groggily groaned. “Go to bed…”

“I’m hungry…!” Little West shrugged with a chuckle. Zuke rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes, pushed a chair next to his brother, climbed on, and looked. West had a recipe book open and ingredients all about. Flour, sugar, eggs, salt, vanilla, measuring spoons, cups, butter, brown sugar. Whatever it was, Zuke assumed it was going to be sweet.

“So where’s mom and dad?”

“Out,” West replied nonchalantly. Zuke huffed at the answer, but curiosity got the better of him when he saw the recipe book. He couldn’t read yet, but the picture showed cookies.

“You’re making cookies?” he asked, a little perked up.

“Yeah!” he beamed with pride. “Figured it’s worth a shot to make! And I always wanted to!”

Zuke looked at the counter, then the book, then his older brother.

“Can I help?”

West nodded and got aprons for both of them. Zuke tied his around his waist, West one around his shoulders.

“The best way to remember recipes is to make them memorable…!” he pointed out, raising a whisk in the air and spinning it a bit. Zuke couldn’t help his excitement as his fingers drummed on the counter. “So what if we made a rap about it?”

“Haha…! Okay…! I’ll keep the beat!” Zuke announced, holding two wooden spoons. With his brother’s agreement, West clapped his hands, breathed in, and sang with silliness intended.

“Time to bake, it’s cookie baking time! Watch and learn as I teach you in rhyme!”

Zuke giggled, ready to follow his brother’s instructions. “First the dry, pour the sugar and the flour!”

“Flower?” Zuke looked confused. But when he saw West measure it out, he understood. He took the cups and poured them into the bowl carefully, tongue sticking out in concentration. West looked at the book, eyes widened but continuing his song.

“Almost forgot! Preheat the oven for an hour!”

West quickly did that, Zuke keeping an even pace on a saucepan. “Mix mix mix until they all have met…!”

Zuke took the whisk as he stirred everything together. He looked down, thinking, but gained a smile when West put a thumb up. “Put that aside,” he put the bowl away to have a clear space. “Let’s get the others set! Cracking eggs, melt the butter please…!”

Zuke quickly got off the chair and put the butter in the microwave to soften. He watched his brother crack eggs on the side of the bowl and put the yolk and whites in. Zuke scrambled back on, holding his hands out.

“I wanna try!”

West let him. Zuke took the egg, took careful aim… and smashed it on the side of the bowl. It oozed on the table, eggshells sticking to his hands. He gasped, but a loving arm was put around his shoulders and then West’s hands put his fingers on Zuke’s tiny hands, leading him to cracking an egg and carefully put it in.

“Add vanilla, put your taste buds at ease…!” West added a dash of vanilla, then looked back at the book. They were both covered with flour at this point. “Douse some oil, don’t be too greedy!”

West measured the oil and let Zuke pour it in. “Chocolate chunks, only if you’re needy!”

They both sampled the chocolate chunks before putting them in, West more than Zuke, earning a slight scold from the drummer boy. He laughed it off as West brought the bowls together. “Whisk whisk, stir, stir, combine and mix!”

Zuke held the bowl as his brother slowly added the dry ingredients in slowly and letting him mix before his arms got tired, to which West took over. “Butter the pan, use the whole stick!”

He let Zuke take that one since he was busy mixing. Once the pan was completely covered in butter, they both molded little spheres and put them on the sheet. The oven beeped, ready for the next lyric. “Shove the sheet in the oven, slam it shut!”

They both did so, wearing oven mitts to protect them from the heat. West put a timer on the stove, letting it tick down. “Set the timer, not too soon, no shortcuts…!”

While waiting, West scatted and sang as Zuke banged to the beat, laughing as they cleaned up the area. They were both a mess, but the kitchen was spotless as soon as the timer rang. West pulled out the sheet, putting it on the counter. “Here’s a secret, let me put you to a halt…! When out and hot and super soft, add a pinch of salt…!”

West added some salt to the top of each cookie. Zuke was confused but went with it. West was the chef, not him. “I know you’re eager, drooling at this rate,” West put a hand over his shoulder. “But be patient, let them cool and all we have to do is wait… wait… wait…”

They both stared at the pan in silence. Zuke’s stomach rumbled, his mouth turning into a river at this point. After fifteen minutes, West nodded and they both grabbed a handful, going upstairs after leaving a note for their parents, and getting into bed together. They nibbled and giggled until their bellies were full.

“I can see why you added salt,” Zuke giggled, yawning and leaning on his brother.

“Brings the sweetness out…! The book said so…!”

Zuke smiled, his eyes fluttering shut. Zuke smiled fondly at the memory.

“Awwwww!” Mayday squealed. You two are so cute together!!”

“Ah! I’m not cute…!” he grumbled. “The cookies should be done now.”

He got the plate and they both took a bite. Sweet, airy, fluffy. He sighed out, eyes closed, a smile on his face. “Yeah… best teacher I had.”

@nsr-simp

#DK West #Mayday #Zuke #NSR #No Straight Roads

[gowithgabby]

Remember the Daze.

Character BIO(s):

Kylie Julien McCarthy

17 years old

Born on September 2nd

Nickname: Ky pronounced like “Kai” (by everyone) Kay-Jay (only by Sav and Jessa), Jewels (by Noah)

Goals: Yale, aspiring to be a Doctor

Interests: Reading, Baking, Beach Days, Mathematics, Literature, Pizza

Crushing on Noah Collins, her best friend since Kindergarten

Summary: One of the best students at Laguna Beach High School, Kylie is articulate, well spoken, mannered, good at multitasking, fairly great at planning, and organized. The kid has a good heart and a good head on her shoulders. A straight A student, member of the school decathlon team, the senior class VP. Kylie is very sweet, honorable, and level headed often acting as the voice of reason in the female portion of her friends. Kylie was born to a successful lawyer, George McCarthy and his partner, Christopher Julien, a ambitious magazine editor. They used a surrogate to have their children, Kylie does know of her birth mother and maintains a relationship with her but she loves her fathers very much. She has a little sister named Violet, who is starting her freshman year at Laguna Beach HS. In all of her 17 years, Kylie has been very complacent in her actions. This year, she is hoping to take the big step in really getting what she wants. She just hopes that it doesn’t blow up in her face. 

Noah Joseph Collins

18 years old

Born on June 27th

Nickname: Joey, Jojo (Only by Kylie and his mom)

Goals: Yale, aspiring to be a Lawyer

Interests: Listening to music before his time, Pizza, Video Games, Reading, Writing, Debating, and Traveling.

Crushing on Kylie McCarthy, his best friend since Kindergarten

Summary: You might think Kylie is the best student at Laguna, but Noah is her academic rival. While he is on the basketball team, he doesn’t care much for the glory that sports brings, not neglecting his athletic skills. He prefers to bury himself with books, educating himself and enriching his mind. You would think him and Kylie would be trying to tear each other down to be the best but it’s actually the exact opposite, they work off each other and build together. This is mainly due to being each other’s best friends since kindergarten, having fond memories of each other. Noah split his lunch with Kylie when she forgot hers on their first day and they’ve been tight ever since. He has dreams of Yale, his father’s alma mater. He is gifted, the editor of the school’s newspaper and he is the senior class President. He is the son of New York Times best selling author, Layla Shaw-Collins and her equally successful husband, Duane Collins, who made his wealth being the most sought out talent agent in LA. He has an older brother named Aaron whom is starting his junior year at Cornell and an older sister named Luna who is a sophomore at Spelman college, a historic black college.

Savanna Wyatt Birkhart

17 years old

Born on October 31st

Nickname: Sav, Savvy, Wyatt (by Ethan)  

Goal: UCLA, aspiring to be a Model

Interests: Modeling, Singing, Cheerleading, Bonfires, Volunteering, Traveling, Shopping, Horror Movies, Yoga, Romance Movies, Makeup, Sage, Hot Wings, Indian Food.

Dating Levi James, boyfriend of 4 years. Crushing on her best friend, Ethan Mahoney (possibly)

Summary: What’s to say about Savanna Birkhart that hasn’t been said already?, dubbed the golden girl of her senior class due to her being head cheerleader and girlfriend of arrogant, Levi, the football star. She makes good grades to keep her GPA somewhat untouchable, she dreams of UCLA. Daughter of Carter Birkhart, a successful property realtor and his award winning actress wife, Farrah Sayers-Birkhart. From the time that the biracial girl was placed in her mother’s arms as a baby, she was genetically “blessed”, taking the best of both parents. Doomed to be popular of her face and wealth, don’t think she feeds into the stereotype of high school. Far from entitled and spoiled, she’s openly friendly, down to earth, charitable, honest, warm, caring, and very naive…especially when it comes to her boyfriend, Levi. Everyone is friends with Sav, she’s a good person to be around. She has an older brother named Silas, who is climbing the ladder to be a PR agent in LA, alma mater of USC and she has a 10 year old younger brother named Six, who was born on Christmas Day. Lately, she’s been finding herself in a somewhat love triangle, between her boyfriend whom she loves and her best friend, Ethan, who she also loves but she’s not sure if it’s friendly love or something more. She’s best friends with Ethan, Cali, Kylie, Noah, and Jessa but gets along with everyone fairly well.

Levi Nathaniel James

18 years old

Born on May 15th

Nickname: LJ

Goal(s): winning the state championship, Stanford, aspires to be CEO of his father’s company

Interests: Partying, Drinking, Working out, Having Sex, Traveling, Sushi, Indian Food, Sports

Dating Savanna Birkhart, girlfriend of 4 years. Unbeknownst to his naive girlfriend, he tends to cheat on her when he goes on family trips or with his dad out of town. He does love her but sometimes he cheats.

Summary: Born to a pair of sun-kissed blonde power couple, Levi is the son of Fortune 500 - Forbes listed CEO of JamesCo, William James and his former model turned socialite wife, Uma Peterson-James. From the day that he was born, Levi has been told that he is powerful, he has money and a lot of it. There hasn’t been anything he wasn’t given, awarded, provided. Textbook jock, Levi excelled in football (mainly), basketball, lacrosse, soccer, and surfs in his free time. He’s QB of the football team and he relishes in the fact that he has Sav on his arm, he’s perfect and he only wants the best for his ego. He mainly focuses on his girlfriend, sex, parties (lots of them), drinking, and sports. He is not the best friend you would want however, very few outside of their friend group knows how he got Sav, by betraying his former best friend from childhood, Ethan, who still harbors a love for Savanna. Recently, he’s been noticing Ethan’s less than quiet advances on Sav. He doesn’t like it, but he has also been holding in secrets from his girlfriend, his cheating and a deeper one that might not only fuck up his relationship with Savanna but destroy the bonds that are deep rooted with their friend group. Levi does have a softer side that only his parents, Savanna, and his sister get to see. He has a little sister named Chelsie, who is a gymnastics prodigy in the making at only 12 years old. He’s best friends with Talan, he’s friends with everyone but he doesn’t care too much for Ethan still being accepted in their group of friends.

Maia Genevieve Langley

18 years old

Born on July 5th

Nickname: Mai, Langley

Goal: Juilliard, aspiring to be an Actress

Interests: Flowers, Hot Girls, Cute Boys, Designing, Makeup, Sneakers, Cupcakes, Acting, Slumber Parties, and experimenting with different hair colors

Crushing on Bodhi Desai and her female classmate, Hanna Richardson

Summary: Everything about Maia screams sensitive, mainly Kylie’s best friends but she does hold close friendships with everyone in the group, Maia is overly sensitive, fiercely loyal, a ride or die friend, and occasionally shy. A little bit on the hyperactive side, openly bisexual and her parents are okay with it, modern day hippies…what can you say?! She had her first same sex experience with a girl at summer camp when she was in the 7th grade. Her friends do tend to walk on eggshells with her due to her over-sensitivity to avoid triggering her. A flair for the dramatics, Maia knows her name will be in lights one day. She wanted to just move to LA and not go to college but her parents are still a little old-fashioned and want her to be educated and perfect her craft before she attempts the struggling actress thing. She was born to a Japanese-American Self help guru named Mina Sato-Langley and a English father named Jeremiah Langley, he was a footballer in England before transitioning to the states and settling into ESPN anchor fame. Maia is the eldest of four children, having two younger identical twin brothers named Hunter and Finn Langley, who are freshmen at Laguna Beach high school. She has a younger sister named Bay Langley who is 6 years old, Maia was 12 years old when her sister was born, she was a what you call a “surprise” baby. Maia has spent the last four years in awe of Bodhi but he doesn’t pick up on her flirtatious banter or he ignores it to avoid hurting her feelings.

Bodhi Abraham Desai

18 years old

Born on March 19th

Nickname: Bo

Goal: Cornell, this school is said to have the best culinary arts program; aspiring to be a Chef with his own restaurant

Interests: Mixology, Baking, Cooking, Soul Music, R&B, Comic Books, Alternative music, Old movies, joking

Crushing on Cali Hernandez

Summary: Known as the Lovable Goofball, Bodhi is down to earth, laidback, friendly, and most of all, silly. He is the son of British Indian award winning Bollywood turned Hollywood actor named Deepak Desai and his acclaimed Screenwriter wife, welsh-Irish wife, Alys Davies-Desai. He has a younger sister named Billie, named after his parents love for Billie Holiday, who is 11 years old. Bodhi dreams of being a chef one day with a restaurant similar to Wolfgang or Gordon, his culinary idols. He would love to take his culinary skills abroad and studying in France, India, Italy, and many other countries. He is quite skilled in mixology, teaching himself the art of mixing drinks from YouTube and picking up tricks from hired bartenders at his parents parties and events. He makes decent grades enough to make his parents proud, he excels in chemistry having a love for science since he was in elementary school. He surfs in his alone time and is a beast on the beach when it comes to frisbee and volleyball. He’s best friends with Noah and Ethan. Close friend with everyone else in the group.

Calista Pilar Hernandez

17 years old

Born on December 31st, a New Year’s Eve baby

Nickname: Cali

Goal: UCLA or USC, aspiring to be a Decorator

Interests: Shopping, Makeup, Vlogging, Chinese Food, Boba Tea, Cheerleading, Beach Nights, Partying.

Dating Talan Everett, boyfriend of 4 years. Crushing on someone in the group but refusing to say it

Summary: Calista is the hot-headed BFF to Savanna Birkhart, while they’re both cheerleaders and share some interests, but ultimately are opposite, where Savanna is down to earth and warm, Cali tends to come off as spoiled and cold. Outspoken, brash, a slick mouth and sarcasm stewed to perfection. Do not call her a spicy Latina, she hates the way Hollywood has stereotyped women with attitude. She’s fiery and will let you know about your wrongs, proud of her heritage. She’s of Mexican-Cuban descent and Swedish through her mother. Cali has a younger brother named Javi, who is a sophomore at Laguna Beach High. Raised by her single father, Javier Hernandez Sr, a famous architect that made his wealth building homes and iconic businesses for the elite. Her mother, Enya Nilsson was a influential fashion designer with several collections, one even named after her daughter, Calista. She lost her mom at 8 years old, making her father a widow. He buried himself into his work and left his cards accessibly to his kids, Cali stepped up and helped her various nannies with her younger brother who was only 6 when their mom died. Like her best friend, she’s sexually active with her boyfriend, Talan. She and Savanna were already going to be best friends, due to their mothers. Enya and Farrah being friends. Farrah even walked on the runway for her designer friend a few times, somehow falling pregnant with their daughters weirdly around the same time. She’s been having issues with her boyfriend, Talan lately.

Talan Gray Everett

18 years old

Born on April 10th

Nickname: Tal

Goal: Wharton Business School, aspires to be Advertising Executive

Interests: Drawing, Gardening, Growing his own Weed strains, Smoking pot, Surfing, Painting, Working out

Dating Cali Hernandez, girlfriend of 4 years. Crushing on Jessa Filipov, his best friend of 6 years.

Summary: Talan is by far the most reliable guy next to Noah in his group of his friends. Son of A-List Party Planner, Britney Westin-Everett and successful Nightclub-Exotic Strip owning Mogul, Alan Everett. Talan has a younger sister named, Serena who is 15 years old and a sophomore at Laguna Beach HS and a older half brother on his father’s side, Gilliam, nicknamed Gill, who’s a senior at NYU. Talan spends his days smoking weed, drawing, surfing, skate-boarding, playing volleyball, and mainly keeping his GF, Cali and his best friend, Jessa from ripping each other’s hair out. While he knows Cali is not always a BITCH on wheels and Jessa is not only known for her body count, he doesn’t understand why the young women don’t care to much for him having the other in his life. He often wonders had his life would have been different if he chose Jessa over Cali back in the summer of 9th grade. Would Cali even still be his friend?. He knows they’re both different outside of school and when they’re alone with him. Don’t let his pot smoking ways fool you, Talan is very articulate, calculated, wise…even honorable. He has a green-thumb and he frequently grows his own cannabis in grow houses on the shores of Laguna. He does plan on going to study business. He’s a skilled artist and creative with everything. He’s sexually active and you would think with how close he is with Jessa, he cheated on Cali. But he has not, he’s been extremely faithful to his girlfriend, he does love her. Even though lately they have been on murky waters.

Jessa Beatrix Filipov

17 years old

Born on September 23rd

Nickname: J, JJ, Jess, Bea

Goal: NYU or FIT, aspires to be a Stylist

Interests: Dancing, Twerking, Parties, Salads, Gyros, Burgers, Cheerleading, Beach Days, Themed parties, Hip Hop, Pop music

Crushing on Talan Everett, her best friend of 6 years. Despite him having a GF, Cali

Summary: Jessa was not born in Laguna Beach, Cali will let you and everyone know this information. But she was born in the Nation’s capital to a pair of Bulgarian-American parents, her mother was a high society debutante, Petia Alferov-Filipov and her father, Darian Filipov, was the son of a Oil tycoon who was working his way to senator in his state of DC. However her high society days were cut short when her parents were killed in a car crash when she was 12 years old. Not having any family that was willingly to take her in on the east coast, Jessa was placed in care with her paternal aunt, Yoana Filipov, who was 23 years old at the time. Her aunt is old enough to be her older sister and is not much of a guardian. Her aunt is an heiress who doesn’t need to work, naturally she let her niece do whatever she wants. Only showing up to parent-guardian type things if it’s really needed, signing permission slips and sending her niece money. Jessa quickly made friends in the first few weeks of moving to LB, quickly making her debut as the 10th friend in their group of 9. Jessa “grew up and out” developing physically before the other girls in the group, making her unwisely the first one to adhere to her sexual exploration and interests. She briefly dated Noah, even took his virginity in 9th grade before letting him go as he continued to love Kylie from afar. She does not believe in labels or dating unless she’s really in love and she’s only been in love with one person, Talan for as long as she can remember. A cheerleader, a party girl, and sexually liberated (her words), Jessa is not everyone’s cup of tea…mainly Cali’s. She and Cali actually share a lot in common, both being confident in their looks on the outside but insecure on the inside, sexually active, slick mouthed and sharp tongued, you would think they’d be the best of friends…but they aren’t and Talan is the reason. Plus she also never really like Cali due to her attitude and spoiled demeanor and ability to keep secrets and lie, she is however best friends with Sav and Maia and occasionally Kylie, as she respects the girl’s morals and values to wait. She’s got a good heart and she does believe in love, having seen it firsthand with her parents. She doesn’t want to rush into something that will bite her in the ass. Until it’s something real, mainly with Talan, she doesn’t want a relationship, keeping it casual.

Ethan Lewis Mahoney

18 years old

Born on April 22nd

Nickname: E, Ma-Honey (by Sav…a childhood nickname because she mispronounced his surname in pre-K) and Mahone (by Sav and Noah)

Goal: NYFA or USA, aspires to be a director

Interests: Photography, Smoking Weed, Directing, Writing, Making Films, Comic Books, Hot Wings, Tacos, Horror Movies, and Spicy Foods

Crushing on Savanna Birkhart, his best friend since Pre-K.

Summary: Ethan prefers to spend his time, directing school plays, photographing things, his muse is often Savanna, often taking a lot of her photos for her portfolio. But he’s not a creep about it, she asks him and he obliges because he loves her and knows that she will be a phenomenal model one day. He works for the school newspaper as the head photographer after Noah asked him to when his OG photographer graduated two years ago. While no desires to be a sports guy, Ethan does enjoy watching them. He’s more on the artistic side, preferring to be on the opposing side like behind his lenses or making the productions. He’s the son of Celebrity Chef, Eleanor White (formerly Mahoney) and her philandering Award winning Actor ex husband, Lyle Mahoney. Ethan is the middle of three children that the couple bore before divorcing, he has an older sister named Isla Mahoney who’s currently working at Vogue as a social media advisor, and he has a younger brother named Noel Mahoney who’s the same as age as Sav’s younger brother, Six. He has dated in the past and even had sex a few times, but none of them compared…compared to Savanna. She’s been the object of his affection since he was in preschool, he loved her even before he knew what love was. They even shared their first kiss together. Ethan was right on track with own planning tactics to telling Savanna how he felt until Levi happened. Levi was at one point his best friend, he swooped in and asserted his claim on Savanna, buying her off with lavish gifts and court side seats. He didn’t blame Sav, Levi gave her a story of lies that he always been in love with her and he was too scared to make a move, the gifts didn’t get her…the lies of Levi did. From then on, Ethan had to watch the girl of his dreams be paraded around like a trophy by his former best friend. Things have been rocky ever since, with both guys only getting along for the sake of Savanna. But he wants it’s to be different especially after he hears some interesting news about Levi’s infidelity…he’s just hoping Savanna will believe him and not Levi.

#series #remember the daze #inanna sarkis #liam hemsworth #crystal westbrooks #alex pettyfer #alexa demie #aaron taylor johnson #hayley kiyoko #lily collins #trevor jackson #avan jogia #characters #character concept #oc #fiction

[ubernoxa]

The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 38: The Firescape

Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Chapter Summary: Del tells Duff that she wants to go to Betsy’s engagement party. Axl slips a truth and Beth doesn’t deny who he says that father’s baby is.

(Masterlist)

Tags: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @dustnbones @queen-crue

“You’re up early,” Izzy noted as he walked into the kitchen that Del had turned into a war zone. There were half chopped apples and peppers that looked like they were barely even touched laid out on the cutting board. Wrappers from butter and eggshells danced across the floor as she scurried about moving from one corner of the kitchen to another.

Izzy was never one to admit he understood women or people in general, but the scene that was unfolding in front of him sent concern through his bones. Something was wrong, and there was no doubt that Duff was the reason for the poor girl’s hectic state.

“I’m always up early,” Del shrugged trying to focus on baking. It was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment. Memories of the threat and what if’s had been haunting her late last night and into the early morning. She had been up since before the sun began to rise, and to be honest she could not recall if she ever actually found sleep.

Upon closer thought, Izzy simply nodded his head assuming that this had something to die with Mark and Matt from the night prior. He bit his tongue as he noticed that there was barely any coffee left in the coffee pot. If the little brunette who currently ran around the kitchen bouncing between tasks had drank most of the coffee, he wondered how her heart hadn’t exploded yet from all of the caffeine.

After once again deciding that this was entirely Duff’s fault, he took the remaining coffee from the pot and poured it in the first cup he found.

“I’ll refill the coffee in a few. You’re banned from coffee for the rest of the day,” he pointed at Del when he spoke.

“Who am I Steven?” She shot back, her snappy tone catching Izzy off guard.

“Look around the kitchen Delilah, tell me that this isn’t something Steven would do,” This time it was Del who bit her tongue. She felt like a child in detention. She wanted to protest or tell Izzy to fuck off, but she knew better than to push Izzy at this hour. She cradled her last cup of coffee before taking another sip, returning back to her cooking chaos only moments after the bitter coffee touched her sweet lips.

Izzy huffed down the hall, cup of coffee in hand as he stormed into Duff’s room.

“What the fuck!” Were the only words that escaped Duff’s lips after Izzy had dumped the remaining coffee on his bandmate. Izzy didn’t give a damn if Duff woke up the entire apartment or even the entire building. His idiot bassist needed to deal with whatever the hell Del was going through.

“I don’t know Duff. You tell me. Your girlfriend is an absolute mess in the kitchen, so instead of sleeping away why don’t you go see what is wrong with her,” Izzy barked back.

Duff took in his surrounding for a quick second only to realize that Del was in fact nowhere to be found. Fuck, he thought to himself. Had she run off?

“Did she run off?” Izzy wished he had another cup of coffee to pour on the bassist at his stupid question.

“No, dumbass she is in the kitchen. Like I just said. This is you first girlfriend that I find tolerable, so why don’t you go fix that situation,” Izzy pointed towards the door before he stormed out of it.

“Can you just...shut the fuck up,” Duff rolled his eyes at Slash’s silent protest in the bed on the opposite wall as his.

“Is that coffee I smell?” Slash asked, only moments later.

“Yeah, Izzy fucking woke me up by pouring coffee on me. That bastard..,” Duff huffed again as he pulled himself out of bed.

“Don’t laugh Slash, it’s not funny,” Duff starred his bandmate down who had immediately erupted into a fit of laughter.

“It’s pretty funny dude,” Was all Slash could say between laughing fits, and before Duff slammed the door.

The beautiful smell of Dell’s cooking engulfed Duff’s nostrils when he entered the kitchen. Instead of a sweet Del dancing around while cooking, he was met with a Del who was clearly on the verge of setting the entire kitchen on fire.

Duff froze, lost for words before he could take in the entire scene. Dell’s hair resembled a mad scientist, and her apron was covered in...everything. He didn’t dare try to guess what she had tried to make.

“How can I help?” Del froze in place when Duff spoke.

“Can you tell Izzy to fuck off? Apparently I’m banned from coffee now! I would tell him myself, but I’m afraid laser beams will shoot out of his eyes when he stares me down,” Del admitted, her voice more defeated that she was hoping than she hoped.

Duff, eyeing her now empty cup of coffee, offered her a small chuckle at her silly words before he stepped forward into Del’s storm.

“How about I make some coffee, and then help you chop up those peppers?” Del smiled at Duff before returning to mix her stew or soup. She wasn’t quite sure what she had created.

Just keep wearing your mask around him Del, she told herself as she attempted to force another smile on her face. She knew it wasn’t the time to confront him about Mark and Matt’s threat.

No, she stopped herself in place, immediately lecturing herself on how poorly that would go. She couldn’t tell him about the threat. It would ruin them, of that she was sure. Instead, she decided, she was going to ask him to come to the engagement party.

Duff, making sure to give Del her distance, made some decaf coffee. As much as he didn’t like to admit it, Izzy was right. She needed to be cut off from caffeine. Her bags under her eyes looked as if they were poorly painted on with eyeshadow.

“You don’t need to watch me Del, you’re not the only chef here,” Duff tried using a teasing tone, but he still didn’t earn a laugh from Del.

“So I woke to Izzy dumping coffee on my shirt this morning,” Duff raised a brow when he heard Del hiding a giggle.

“It’s not funny,” Duff replied. This time a small smile was on his face, unlike when he had this discussion with Slash only a few minutes earlier.

“It’s pretty funny,” the moment Del snorted, Duff pulled her into a hug causing Del’s giggles to fill the apartment.

“Not as funny as your face right now,” in a flash, Duff had grabbed some of the yogurt and covered her face with it.

Del immediately grabbed some of the yogurt off of her face and splashed it over Duff’s.

“Nah, you’re still more funny looking,” Del teased before Duff pulled her in for a kiss.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He mumbled as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Later.”

“Later?” Duff cocked a brow at her, quickly receiving a nod.

“We have a breakfast we gotta cook and coffee you have to pour on Izzy,” He smiled before she went back to stirring her...whatever she had cooking in her pot.

“So, Chef Delly, where would you like the peppers?” Del pointed towards the large pot that seemed to be cooking over the stove.

Time flew by as the two cooked in silence. Chopping and preparing different foods in harmony while enjoying the silence that had grown between them.

Despite Duff finding his peace again, Del still remained on edge and couldn’t keep Mike and Matt’s threat from the party last night racing through her head.

She would never cheat on Duff. She loved him, that she knew for sure, but she couldn’t pinpoint why. It’s was just a million little things that added up to one big thing from his smile to his stupid jokes to the songs he played for her. He didn’t steal his heart. She 100% willingly gave it to him.

Duff continued to focus on cleaning up the mess that was a resultant from Hurricane Del, but he could feel her eyes hang on him. There was something on her mind, and he knew there was no way his silly jokes or cooking could fix it. They needed to talk, and the worst part was that part of him didn’t want to talk about it. He wanted to file Mark and Matt away in a filing cabinet and throw it into the ocean, far far away from Del.

“The fire escape,” Del mumbled, filling Duff with dread as they headed over towards the only place he knew that they could have some privacy.

“Okay, what’s up? What happened last night,” Del shook her head as Duff sat down on the fire escape. His long legs hanging off the end.

“I would like to go to Beth’s wedding party. It’s just a little celebration about her engagement,” The words couldn’t come out of her mouth faster as she spoke.

Duff paused and looked at Del. She was lying, of that he was certain. He knew she didn’t want to go to the damn party. He knew she didn’t want anything to do with her old life.

Maybe if I keep her from it, maybe that would help, he thought to himself.

“No,” Duff replied his focus not leaving the ally that the fire escape faced.

“No?” Del was shocked at his response. He wrote songs and he couldn’t bring himself to using more than one word.

Duff stood up, not saying a word. Del felt smaller than an ant as she stared up at him, “No, I said no. I don’t want you around Mike or Matt.”

“Beth was my friend!” Del shot back, her skin felt like it was boiling.

Was.

Was.

Was.

Del froze as the sentence escaped her lips. She was her friend. Best is not her friend.

“Really? When was the last time you talked to her?” Del remained silent, not wanted to deal withDiff’s words. She wished he went back to the single word answers.

“You call her a friend, but she left you ALONE at the bar Delilah!” Duff shouted back at her.

“So what Micheal! She was scared and maybe I was in the wrong!” Del shouted right back.

“I don’t want you anywhere near Matt or Mike or Beth or whatever the hell their names are! You’re not going there!” He shouted back matching my tone.

Del clutched onto the cold railing that was the only thing keeping her from falling off the firescape. It felt more like sandpaper than any railing she had held before. It gritted under her palms, screaming at her to let go. She wasn’t sure if that was her overactive imagination or the crippling state of this apartment.

Run.

Get away from him before it escalates,

“I thought you would be okay if I was there with you. You could protect me,” she felt childish as all of her nerve had disappeared. Del could feel herself shaking as she continued to use the railing as her support to steady herself. It was the only reason she hadn’t fallen over.

Duff was about to speak when he froze as he looked down at Del, she was cowering. She looked like prey right before the laughter. Her body was leaned up against the cold railing and he could tell that she was visibly shaking.

He reached out a hand hoping to gently stroke her cheek hoping to calm her, but he soon realized how bad the idea was. The moment she flinched, he knew how poor of a choice it was. She had to have known that he would never hurt her.

As if Del was a dying fire, and Duff’s touch was gasoline, she felt her flame return, courage flowing through her veins. She shoved his hand aside and pushed him out of her way. She felt on fire as she stormed through the apartment, ignoring Duff’s pleading in hopes that she would slow down and listen to his logic. She didn’t listen.

Del could feel that every soul in the apartment was watching the scene unfold.

“Shut the fuck up Duff and leave me alone,” Del shouted at the top of her lungs. Her throat was hot and it felt like it was on fire.

“Del, where are you going?” Duff shouted, only furthering the fire she had become.

“Home,” Del shouted, only realizing how pathetic she sounded before slamming the door behind her.

When the door closed behind her, the tears quickly streamed down her face. She felt guilt as she stormed down the stairs. Guilt for acting like a fool. Guilt for yelling at Duff.

Home? She almost scoffed at the idea as the tears came streaming down her face. She had no home.

“Don’t,” Mag’s voice was sharp as Duff went to run after Delilah.

“What do you mean don’t?” Duff shouted.

“You are only going to make it worse.” She countered.

“Did you tell her that it’s your baby or is this only about the engagement party at her old church ?” Axl’s voice cut through the silence.

“What?” Duff turned towards Mags who froze in time. Her face went flush, looking more like a ghost than a living being.

“Mags, what is he talking about?” Duff shouted.

Mags could feel the tears streaming on her cheeks as she ran out to the apartment.

Steven didn’t hesitate as his punch collided with Duff’s face.

While his face burned like hell from Steven’s punch, he couldn’t focus on it. His brain was too occupied with the fact that Mags didn’t deny that he was the father.

He was going to be a father.

And Delly, Delly was gone

#gnr fanfiction #guns n’ roses fanfic #gnr fanfic #gnr imagine #guns n’ roses fanfiction #guns n’ roses imagine #duff mckagan fanfiction #duff mckagan / oc #duff mckagan imagine #duff mckagan fanfic

[snowdice]

Big Bang Editing Story [Day 3](Part 2)

In the same vein as my study session fics, I’m going to be writing a story while I edit my Big Bang Fic. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing final edits for a section of my Big Bang Fic.

This will be a royalty AU and unlike the study fic, I actually have a few plans for it going in, but you can still feel free to send in asks with suggestions or questions to help me along.

Because this story is a story I’m writing to edit, I’m not going to edit it very consistently… The two chapters are finished and under the cut.

Also! I have a lot of world building for this story already and I have a role for all of the sides! (Even the ones that won’t show up for a little while.) Feel free to ask any questions. There’s plenty of magic in this AU.

If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today.

Chapter 1

“Please?” the younger teenager said as he threw his arms around Logan in a hug. Logan gave him a disgruntled look when a stray arm bumped some of the papers on his desk and one that he’d been using fluttered to the ground.

“Patton, I have work to do.”

“You work all the time,” Patton pouted back at him.

“I’m the crowned prince,” Logan reasoned. “There is a lot for me to do.”

“You’re not even doing royalty business tonight,” Patton pointed out. “You’re just reading your book.”

“But I have to do some tomorrow and if I agree to a sleepover, we both know neither of us will sleep.”

 “We’ll sleep, I promise!” Patton said.

Logan gave him a skeptical look. They had been having these sleepovers for a decade at this point and in none of them had Logan ever actually slept. On the contrary, Patton usually kept him up long enough that Logan was so tired he couldn’t fall asleep and then the boy himself would pass out leaving Logan to stare grumpily at the ceiling.

“Future Royal Advisor’s honor?” Patton tried, eyes hopeful. “Come on, we can play dress up.”

Logan glared at him. “I am 17 years old,” he reminded.

“I’ll do your hair,” he tempted. “I’ll even let you read a book while I do it.”

The look in his friend’s eyes and the fact that he really was quite good at hair started to weaken Logan’s resolve.

 Patton, knowing him so well, saw his tenacity faulter and pitilessly pressed his advantage. “Mama made fresh cookies today,” he said. “They’re the ones with strawberry jam. We could sneak into the kitchen and steel some in the middle of the night.”

“Considering you are the head chef’s son and I am the prince, it would hardly be considered stealing.”

“But it’s more fun that way,” Patton argued with a laugh. “Come on, you need to have some fun. You’ve been stressed out lately.”

“This is fun,” Logan said with a frown, gesturing to the large book in front of him.

“I know,” Patton said, “but your brain has got to be tired from reading all of that Latin and Sand’s Kit.”

“Sanskrit.”

“Gazuntite.”

 Logan sighed. “Why did father agree to make you the royal advisor in training?”

“Because he knows without me, you’ll send your entire life sitting at this desk reading your book.” Patton scrunched up his nose at him.

“I would also do my royal duties.”

“But sometimes you need to relax,” Patton said. Logan opened his mouth. “Really relax. No super encoded magical books that make me dizzy looking at them. We’re going to play dress up, eat cookies, and read silly books, and that’s final.”

“Oh, I’m being commanded, am I?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised. “You’re really going to try to command your prince? You’re lucky I don’t have you tossed into the dungeon.”

Patton hopped off the chair he’d pulled up to Logan’s desk and scrambled a few feet away. “You’d have to pull yourself away from your book to do that,” he said, sticking out his tongue at him.

 Logan glanced down at his book. Reading the Pragilium text despite its difficulties had been his life’s work since he was a small child, and it was something he very much enjoyed, but he was tired from his duties and his lessons the last few weeks and not in the way he would be if he agreed to Patton’s sleepover. He looked up at Patton. He was shifting back and forth on his feet, a smile on his face. The book could wait.

Logan carefully closed his book and stood from his desk chair. Patton was already giggling before Logan lunged for him.

 Patton was a lot more agile then Logan was himself and knew the castle just as well since he had been brought to live here when he was just starting to walk, yet he was clearly slowing his place so Logan would not lose him. They ran through familiar corridors, careful to not slam into the stationed guards as the slid around corners. They ran past the large window that gave the best view of the castle garden and Patton avoided the spiral staircase that would let out near the kitchen where his mother was currently preparing that night’s dinner. Instead, he made a dash through the smaller dinning hall, unused at this time because they had no important guests, and then hung right to bolt towards the wing with Logan’s own private quarters.

The guards that stood in front of the double doors to the private hall, stepped aside easily at Patton’s approach. Patton pushed through the doors and they swung shut behind him.

“Traitors,” Logan accused, shooting past them through the door himself.

 The guards only seemed amused by his accusation.

“Help!” Patton yelped. His still light tone didn’t worry Logan that something was actually wrong, but it did make him wonder who he was speaking to. That became clear, however, when he noticed his father standing at the end of the hall outside the entrance to his own bedroom. Patton sprinted past Logan’s bedroom and directly at the king.

“What is going on here?” Logan’s dad asked amused as Patton darted around him to use him as a human shield.

“I made Logan stop working and now he wants to throw me in the dungeons.”

 “Well,” Logan’s father said. “It’s a good thing I’m king and can overrule him then.”

“Thank you, Thomathy.” Father chuckled at the nickname, and Patton poked his head around the king to stick his tongue out at Logan once again.

“He’s sticking his tongue out at me!” Logan pointed out. “Surely that counts as some sort of treason.”

“Does not!” Patton claimed.

“Does too!”

“Does not!”

“Stop it!”

“Make me!”

“I would, but you’re hiding behind my father like a coward,” Logan argued.

“He does have a point there, Pat,” Father reasoned. Patton just wrapped his fists into the man’s robes and shot him a piteous look.

 “Oof, Pat,” Father said, rubbing his chest as though it ached. “That look is a shot straight to the heart. Is someone trying to assassinate me?”

“No,” Patton said. “I wouldn’t let them.”

“Hmm,” Father replied, reaching out to ruffle his hair and then stepping away from him. “I can always count on you Pat. I have to head to a meeting now. Keep our troublemaker out of mischief for me?”

“Oh, I’m the troublemaker?”

“Of course, Thomathy,” Patton swore, ignoring Logan completely. “Can we use the jewelry box for dress up?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Father agreed. “I won’t need any for a while. Just keep them safe.”

 “We will,” Patton promised. Father smiled at him and walked towards the entrance of the hall. He paused to press his palm to Logan’s cheek briefly before continuing and disappearing through the doors.

Logan turned back to Patton. “It seems you have cornered yourself,” he pointed out.

Patton glanced around himself. He had, in fact, sequestered himself in the end of the hall. The only possible avenue was into Father’s bedroom and he’d likely locked the door behind him if he was going to be gone to a meeting. Patton giggled when his predicament set in. “Truce?” he offered.

“Not a chance.”

 “No! Logan! Truce!”

Logan took a menacing step towards him.

“Defensive offence!” Patton shrieked and charged at him.

The air was knocked out of him when Patton slammed into him. “Ugh, Patton, why?” The arms that had wrapped around him squeezed hard. “I’m being attacked! Guards!”

To the guards’ credit, one of them did stick their head through the door just to make sure. Patton waved at them.

“There is no respect for the crown in this entire castle!” Logan sputtered when the door closed once again.

Patton released his waist finally, and instead grabbed his hands. “Come on, I bet I can pick out a good fun book from your dad’s library for you to read during our sleepover.”

“My book’s fun.”

“And easy,” Patton stressed. “We’ll have to wait for the cover of nightfall to steal the cookies, but there is plenty to do until then.”

“Fine,” Logan said with a put-upon sigh, though he honestly didn’t feel any true resentment. He wondered if he’d regret his decision to agree to Patton’s ‘sleep’over in the morning.

He would find in the years to come, that he very much wouldn’t. For, many, many reasons.

Chapter 2

Virgil hated this. He really, really hated this. To think he wished he was back in training camp. He yearned for General Landon’s mistreatment like he imagined most children desired their mother’s affection. He tried not to sniff too loudly from his place behind the foul-smelling bags he’d hid behind in the small shed long enough ago that his legs had long since cramped.

He could tell from small window opposite him that the sun had set recently, though it was not quite last light. Soon he would have the cover of darkness and would have to move from this spot. That was almost worse than staying cramped here forever and starving to death in the shed. He felt sick. He felt so sick. He didn’t want to be here.

 A noise startled him, and he flinched down further behind the bags as someone pulled opened the door to the shed. A man made a groaning sound and set gardening tools down on the table with a clank. Virgil did not want to imagine all the ways each of those things could kill someone, but his brain didn’t give him the choice.

Virgil focused on breathing as quietly as he could even when the thoughts in his head made him want to pant. The man continued to put away the tools in different places in the shed. Virgil tried to curl even tighter into his already tight ball when he strayed too close a few times.

 The man finished his work and wiped off his hands on his shirt. Virgil expected him to turn and exit the shed, but instead he called out. “I can see your hair.”

Virgil froze, and when the man turned to look right at his hiding place, he let out a small whimper. He tried to scramble away when the man took a step closer to him, but there was nowhere to go but to press himself up against the back of the shed, the man’s body between him and the door.

They sized each other up for a long moment. Could Virgil make it to one of the tools if he moved quickly enough? He didn’t know. He doubted it and there was more than a likely chance that he’d reach for a tool himself with his much longer arms.

“You here to steal food from the castle garden?” the man finally asked.

 Well…no, not at all. He wished he was here to steal food. How should he respond? What was the most tactical answer? He cast his mind back to his training. There were a few options when faced with this situation, but he didn’t know which was the best one. The most obvious explanation was to go with his cover story and try to say he worked in the kitchen, but this man worked with the garden. There was every possibility he knew people in the kitchen. Another strategy would be to agree with whatever he said and hope he came up with a reasonable explanation on his own… but that explanation seemed to be that Virgil was a thief. Would he immediately be dragged in front of the king or have his arm chopped off or something else horrible? He could try spinning it around on him by asking him questions back and confuse him. He could ask him why he was here or if he was the one stealing food. That would be stupid though, he was obviously the gardener. That would probably just piss him off and make Virgil’s fate worse.

Virgil couldn’t breathe.

 “Hey kid,” the man said. “What’s going on?” He had crouched down in front of Virgil and the fading light from the window finally hit the side of his face the right way to light up the currently black tattoo on his face. Virgil blinked. He was really glad he hadn’t just lied in that case. He did not comment on the marking or otherwise indicate he knew what it was. That would breed questions about why he knew what the man was. Why was the man a gardener if he was a multrum? It didn’t make any sense.

That didn’t matter now however, Virgil needed to say something, and it had to be the truth.

 “Kid?” the man said again.

“I don’t want to be here,” Virgil said truthfully.

The man’s tattoo shimmered just slightly, and he paused. He settled himself down in front of him. “Well where do you want to be?”

Virgil shrugged.

The man frowned and then leaned back to grab something out of a bucket under the table. “Here,” the man said. An apple was plopped down in his lap.

Virgil stared down at it in confusion.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yeah,” Virgil admitted. “I wasn’t here to steal though, promise.”

The man nodded. “Go ahead and try it,” he suggested. “It’s from a new hybrid plant that just started growing fruit.”

 Virgil cautiously brought it to his lips and took a bite. “It’s good,” Virgil said softly. “Thanks.”

The man watched him eat for a long moment. “What are you doing here?” he finally asked.

Virgil was careful with how he responded. “Hiding.”

He arched an eyebrow. “From what?”

Virgil was not fool enough to say.

“Well, you can’t hide in here,” the man said once he realized Virgil wasn’t going to speak. “I lock it from the outside during the night. How about I walk you back to wherever you’re supposed to be. Where’s that?”

Virgil bit his lip. “The castle,” he said.

 He titled his head at Virgil. “Alright,” he agreed. “Come on.” The man offered him a hand and he twitched before slowly taking it. The man pulled him to his feet carefully. He reached over and grabbed another apple from the bucket. “Here, have another one for the road,” he offered.

Virgil looked at it in confusion. “Oh,” he said. “T-thanks.” He stored the apple in his pocket and when he’d looked away, he felt a hand descend on his back.

He yelped and jerked away, eyes wide, but the man was just holding his hand in the air where Virgil’s back had been, looking confused.

 “Sorry,” he stuttered. “You just startled me.”

The man eyed him. “Sure kid,” he agreed. “Let’s get along.”

Virgil nodded and followed him out of the shed. He waited for the man as he locked up the shed and then they walked side-by-side to the castle. The man never reached for him again, Virgil noticed.

Virgil found himself shuffling closer to him as other random castle workers passed them, using him as a cover. No one looked at them twice.

The man took him in one of the doors of the castle. It was one near the kitchen if Virgil’s mental map was right.

 “Can you find your way from here?” the man asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil replied. “I know where I am. Thanks.”

“No problem kid,” he replied. He nodded at the bulge in Virgil’s pocket. “If you ever want another one of those apples, I have plenty.”

“Oh,” Virgil said softly. “Thanks for the offer.”

He inclined his head and turned back to leave out through the door they’d come through. Virgil watched him go. Well. That was the weirdest interaction he’d ever had with an adult, but at least all of his limbs were intact. He gulped looking around at the strange hall he was in. For now.

 There weren’t many people coming in and out of the kitchen at the moment since dinner had long since passed, but he was still cautious as he took the spiral staircase up. Though most wouldn’t question him in the more public areas of the castle, it still never hurt to be safe. He came out in a large corridor across the way from what he knew was a small dinning hall for important guests. It was still fall, but it was getting late enough in the season that there should not be any guests staying for fear winter may come early and snow them in.

 He kept close to the walls as he quickly passed through the dining hall, wincing as his shoes clacked softly on the floor and then turned left. He kept his ears peeled for guards and ducked around corners when he heard people coming, but eventually found himself in the correct hall. It was a hall of large bedrooms used for visiting dignitaries, and he slipped into the first bedroom on the left.

He took a moment to gawk at the large bedroom. Most of the furniture was covered in white cloth to keep it from getting dusty when not in use, but he could still imagine how beautiful it was when someone was staying there, how soft the bed and chairs must be, and how pretty the designs on the wardrobe.

He shook himself and turned his attention to the bed. He crouched down and squirmed underneath it. His arms stretched out, searching along the wall at the head of the bed until he found the loose board. From what Virgil had been told, a dignitary from Faumatia had come here in the spring before their membership in The Alliance was known and planted supplies for this. He grabbed the bag and squirmed back out from under the bed. He opened the bag and pulled out exactly what he’d been told would be there: a knife, some dried meat (which he chose to forgo since he still had the apple), and one sleeping potion enough for the guards who would inevitably stand at the entrance to the hall The King’s bedroom was in.

 Then, Virgil settled in to wait for a few more hours until the rest of the castle was asleep. He chewed idly on the second apple he’d been given. He felt a little bad; he wondered if the nice gardener liked his king. Would he make the connection between The King’s assassination and Virgil? Would he feel guilty for helping him even if accidently?

He shook off the thought. He had enough to feel bad about without feeling bad about that too.

He waited for hours before he finally decided it was time to move. The clock had struck 2am a good while ago and everyone but the night guards should be asleep. He stood and snuck back the way he came, past the dinning hall and into another area of the castle. The correct hall was easy enough to find with its two guards posted outside of it. With practiced ease, he kept silent to the shadows and snuck up on them. When he was close enough, he pressed his shirt up against his nose and uncorked the potion, tossing it so the gas it made when hitting oxygen hissed and spiraled up their legs. They were down in a moment and Virgil was running past them, holding his breath. He closed the doors behind him silently.

Now, he just needed to find the king’s bedroom. He imagined the floorplan in his mind. There were two bedrooms in this wing: one for the prince and one for the king. He froze. Which was which? He remembered which doors led to bedrooms, but racking his brain, he couldn’t remember which one they’d said was The King’s.

It was fine. They’d both be asleep at this hour. He’d just check the first bedroom on the left and see if it was the prince or the king. If the prince was sleeping there, he’d back out and go to the next one.

Decided, he took out the knife and crept to the first bedroom door. He turned the knob and pushed it open slowly.

Confused eyes met his the moment the door finished opening. It was the prince. What was he doing awake at this hour? The stared at each other for a long moment, both frozen. The prince’s eyes drifted to the knife.

Then, something heavy and flat slammed into the back of his head.

 Chapter 3

The figure whose head Patton had just slammed a cookie sheet over tottered forward and fell to the floor; the knife fell limply from its hand onto the floor. Patton immediately stepped forward to kick the weapon away towards Logan. Logan stepped forward to grab it and stored it away quickly at the bottom of the chest at the foot of his bed.

He looked back up at Patton. “T-thank you,” he said.

“Um-huh,” Patton replied, still looking down at the fallen figure. It did not seem like it’d be getting up anytime soon. He slowly lowered the cookie sheet.

 He cautiously knelt down next to the person.

“Patton, what are you doing?” Logan asked.

“I just want to see,” Patton said. He carefully shoved the figure over to its back so he could peer at his face. It was a young boy with a pale face and kinda squiggly dark hair that framed his face unevenly. “Oh,” Patton said softly. “He’s just a baby.”

“What are you talking about?” Logan asked.

“He’s like 12,” Patton said with a frown. “Maybe 13.”

“He also had a knife,” Logan stressed, but he did move closer to get a better look at him. “We should call the guards.”

“But...”

“No, Patton,” Logan said firmly.

 “Maybe it’s just a misunderstanding?” Patton tried.

“A misunderstanding?” Logan scoffed. “What? Did he accidently sneak past the guards into royal family’s private hallway and come into my bedroom in the middle of the night with a knife?”

Patton looked down at the kid. “Well…”

“He’s clearly an assassin,” Logan said. “We need to call the guards so they can deal with him appropriately.”

“Can we at least wait until he wakes up?” Patton said. “I want to talk to him. Maybe…”

“He’s not a feral cat you can tame.”

Patton bit his lip and looked up at Logan about to do something sorta mean. “But aren’t you curious?” Patton beseeched. “He’s so young. Who would have sent him? Who would have trained him if he’s really an assassin? How’d he get past the guards? Don’t you want to know? They probably wouldn’t tell you if we let the guards take him away.”

 Patton could see Logan’s resolve breaking. He was weak to his own curiosity and whoever this kid was, was a curiosity. He sighed. “We’ll have to check him for any weapons before he wakes up, and we’ll have to restrain him.” Patton beamed up at him. “We’ll call the guards and tell Father as soon as we’re done or at the first sign of trouble.”

“Sure,” Patton readily agreed.

“Hmm,” Logan said. “Watch him closely for a couple of seconds.” He ducked through the door to his little work area and then ran back with a corked bottle. “Hmm… can I borrow your bracelets?”

 “Sure. Why?” Patton asked, already working them off his own wrists.

“This is a binding potion,” Logan explained, taking the bracelets and pouring a couple of drops carefully on them. “It keeps people locked in place. It’s rather strong though and if I applied it directly on his skin, it’d hurt him and be hard to take off. This way, the bracelets will just act like magical cuffs. They’ll hold his arms in place wherever we need them to be.” He waited for a moment and then tapped his own finger to where he’d applied the potion. “It’s dry” he said.

#proofread stories