PANDORA HEARTS KINK(-ish) MEME
The Pandora Hearts Kink(-ish) Meme!
Okay, this here's a kink meme! You know the drill! Only... it's actually okay if you want to request/write/draw gen or non-porny pairing fic, because hey, the PH fandom is kinda small, right. 8D;
WARNING: As I'm sure you can tell from the description, this is anything goes, so if you're bothered by the ( Read more... )
Okay, this here's a kink meme! You know the drill! Only... it's actually okay if you want to request/write/draw gen or non-porny pairing fic, because hey, the PH fandom is kinda small, right. 8D;
WARNING: As I'm sure you can tell from the description, this is anything goes, so if you're bothered by the ( Read more... )
Alice crossed her arms grimly, “Che, difficult? I’m surprised you didn’t set fire to us both.” She cast a glance around the room, “You should have just listened to me when I suggested getting meat from the market.”
Oz seemed to wilt at her tone, “But I wanted to make you something.”
Gilbert’s eyes glazed over, “My kitchen,” he muttered weakly. He grabbed Oz’s shoulder, though did not turn towards him. “What happened?”
The blonds’ smile tightened. “I followed a recipe.” He said, quite decisively for someone covered in flour. Gilbert’s back stiffened, and his grip became vicelike.
“H-how,” Gilbert stuttered, his tone increasing in volume, “How does that explain anything!” Alice raised an eyebrow in his general direction, and Oz’s smile became a little tense.
Oz opened his mouth to speak, but what cut off by Gil yelling, “Why is there PASTA on the ceiling?” With that outburst he flopped into the chair. “…Never mind, I don’t think I really want to know.” His hand came up to cover his face, but it didn’t repress the rattling sigh that left him.
Oz tiptoed over to where Gil was, “Wow, you must really have had a bad day at work today.” As he said this he pulled Gil’s hand away from his face, brushing his temple. “You look tired,” he paused, holding Gil’s hand in his own, “and you feel warm.” He stared at Gil for a moment, thinking deeply, “ Alright then, off to bed with you.”
Gil looked aghast at this, “No.” He shook his head wildly, “I have to clean this,” his free hand gestured sharply at the kitchen. “I won’t be able to sleep while I can still see that-” Gil’s voice cracked on ‘that’, “mess.” Oz grinned at the vehemence in the word mess.
“Then don’t, stupid.” Alice had skulked over to the two boys, looking as intimidating as she could with a floury face- and was that jam in her hair? “Oz and I will clean your stupid kitchen, and you can go to bed.”
Gilbert, offended on behalf of his kitchen, looked even more shocked at her suggestion. He didn’t want Oz half to do so much work, and he had a growing fear that the kitchen would only get worse if Alice tried to clean it. “B-but,” He tried to get out, desperate to think of a way to dissuade her and Oz from doing further damage to his -not stupid- kitchen.
Alice grabbed the arm Oz was holding and pulled, surprisingly gently. “Come.” It was an order, and Gil was too tired to physically protest. Heaving a great sigh, perfected from years of watching Liam do the same, he got to his feet and let himself be lead by the house terrorist. But instead of being led to his couch, they turned and he found himself heading down the hall. He opened his mouth to protest and turned slightly towards the living room, only to be interrupted by the girl in front of him. “You didn’t want to see the kitchen, right?”
Shutting his mouth with a pop he nodded. Not that Alice could see, but she said no more. She turned to the first room in the hallway, pausing to open the door. Gilbert yawned widely as Alice led him into the room.
“Go to bed then seaweed head.” She turned to leave and got to the door before she stopped. “And don’t worry about the cupboards, I’ve got a very good memory.” It took all of Gil’s tact to not remind her why she was staying with him. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and added, “In return you will make me a tart tomorrow…I really wanted to try one.” Alice sounded quite bashful as she said this. Gil pretended not to see the flush of her cheeks. She pursed her lips and left.
As she closed the door, Gil smiled gratefully. Perhaps she could go back to being an intruder rather than a terrorist. He took off his coat, noting the flour handprints warily, kicked off his shoes and shuffled into bed. As his fatigue crossed the line into exhaustion he fell asleep with a smile on his face.
I hope you enjoyed.
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Dammnit.
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