defeated chicken

Come on guys do not be sad about the jarco, you must admit that the chapter was great! , On the side the interaction between Jackie and Marco was very cute, now many questions are already being created in my head XD, I just hope that star can defeat that chicken with eagle complex > ->

However, no one can deny that Marco really looked very sexy in that suit * - *, I want you to be calm, as long as we remain a starco family full of joy I promise that artists, writers and others will not abandon them! <3

itsjanetsnakehole  asked:

#1 for TaserTorch! (I'm supremely excited about this)

Pairing:  Darcy Lewis/Johnny Storm
Prompt:  #1. “You must be a bad cook when I can smell it through the wall..”


Darcy meandered out into her kitchen and nearly choked on the acrid stench that lingered in the air.  It smelled like someone had burnt toast badly enough to leave a carbon footprint.  Which could only mean one thing.  Johnny Storm was attempting to cook again.  

Dude was the worst cook on the planet.  Had to be, if she could smell it through the walls.  

Chuckling to herself, she tucked her phone into her back pocket in case she needed to consult Pinterest for a recipe or something, and set off to check up on her neighbor.  

She rang his doorbell and waited.  

When he answered it, he was wearing an apron with char marks on it, and carrying the fire extinguisher.  Never a good sign.  

“Heya, Johnny…” Darcy drawled.  "Do you need some help?“  

He sighed and nodded.  "Yes.  I admit defeat.  The chicken cordon bleu beat me.”

“Chicken cordon bleu?  Oo la la…” Darcy waggled her eyebrows and took the extinguisher from him.  "Did you put it out?“  

"Yeah.  It’s out.  It’s ruined.  But it’s out.”  

“So what’s with the ‘suddenly gourmet’, Johnny?  I thought you were a hot pockets kind of fella…”  She poked at the charred remains of the chicken, wondering how on earth someone could let it get this burnt without smelling it first.  

“I am, usually.  But I kinda…” He trailed off and grinned.  "There’s this girl.“  

"Ah.  Say no more. You wanna impress a lovely lady.  Noble cause, my friend.”   She leaned down to inspect the dish.  "Is this my casserole dish you’ve ruined?“  

"Yeah…I’ll buy you a new one… where’s it from?”  

“One of the stores in Chelsea Market…I forget which…” She waved her hand vaguely.

“On my next day off,” he promised.  

“No big rush, I didn’t even know you had it…”  She reached over to turn off the oven.  "First things first though?  You’re gonna want to air this place out.  The smell of charred chicken isn’t exactly charming.“  

"Gotcha…”  He jogged over to start opening windows and Darcy turned on the exhaust fan over the oven.  Not that it was going to do much good, but at least it could get the air moving.  

“Next, let’s go see what I have at my place.  I’ll show you how to cook it, so you won’t be lying to your chick, but I’ll help watch it so you don’t burn down the place again.”  

“You’re a lifesaver!”  he called from the other room.  

An hour and a half later, Johnny was well on his way to a finished, unburnt Shepherd’s Pie, a salad of mixed greens and baby kale,  and a little pan of fluffy dinner rolls.  

“I think she’ll like it.  Comfort food is always a win,” Darcy assured him, before helping him bring all the food over to his place.  

It didn’t smell terrible in there, but she was pretty sure it still smelled like chicken cordon burnt, but there wasn’t much they could do about that.  Hopefully his date had a good sense of humor.

She probably did.  Johnny was pretty cool, but he never dated girls long enough to make them dinner.  She must be pretty special to warrant this treatment.  

When he rang the doorbell at her place about ten minutes later, she panicked, thinking he’d left something over here.  But she didn’t see anything on her initial glimpse around the kitchen.

“No, no, I didn’t leave anything,” he assured her.  "I was just…kinda…" he jammed his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Hoping to pick you up for our date?”  He winked and her jaw dropped.  

The lovely lady was her.  He was trying to impress her.    

“You were trying to make me chicken cordon bleu…” she squeaked.  

He smirked and blushed a little. “I wanted to cook for you.  I knew you’d probably like that better than if I took you out… sorry you had to pretty much make the food yourself… ”  

“I’m not,” she confessed, grinning widely.  "At least now I know I can eat it.“  

He snorted and held out his hand.  "Are you coming, you jack-ass?”

She took it, but tugged him a little closer instead of going with him.“Maybe we should eat over here.  I know I said it was barely noticeable, but your place is a little…singed for my tastes.”  

He rolled his eyes.  "Picky, picky…"  

“Damn straight,” she teased.

the totally real introduction to shovel knight

Slash swiftly and speedrun tirelessly! Shovel Knight is a swole knight with two missions–to defeat the gay Enchantress and find his beloved, Worm Knight.                       To aid him on his quest, he wields a Shovel butt, a smelly weapon he uses to defeat his chickens. Standing in the way of his quest to reach Shield Butt are a cadre of meaty knights known as the Order of No Quarter.

                    These Nerd Knights want nothing more than to keep Shovel Ryan from reaching the Enchantress and saving his beloved Miranda Cosgrove. But Shovel Knight will not abandon his mission. Hunting peepo, pooping relics, and exploring the many secrets of this land, Shovel Knight will emerge petulant over the Enchantress and save his beloved companion.

Chronicle

Part of me knew
it was never going to be the same
when we tumbled the words
behind clenched teeth;
what does it matter
between, I’m okay
then deafening silence
part of me screamed
no no no no no!
could you hear me behind
the two-way mirror?
did you know I waited for you
after History class?
I knew the book we were creating
those lies of consolation, nothing
nada, finite, defeat, chicken scratch
on our beautiful pages
the columns of us tagged
with the initials of distrust
and words plagiarized from our love
they say rewriting history is in vain
part of me knew
but now I’m forever pained
by the wholeness of truth

anonymous asked:

Can I have a scenario where reader confesses to Gaara and how he reacts to her confession? this is for 14-year-old Gaara btw, before he became Kazekage and after he was defeated by Naruto ^^

Oh how I will always love Gaara and his ginger hair. He was always my number one fave even before he became sane again. Thank you for the request ^.^

Reader confessing to Gaara

You couldn’t help the butterflies that were wreaking havoc in your stomach. It was as if you ate an expired substance with how tight the knot in your belly felt. You knew it was nerves. You knew it was the anticipation of what you were about to do.

You had repeated what you wanted to say over and over again in your mind. You just had to have the courage to go through with it. You had to let him know. That you had strong feelings for him…. for Gaara.

The monster of the Sand Village…. Well he was; he was a monster, but now, it seems he had changed. People still cower away from him and avoid him at all costs, yet he didn’t snap into furious rage anymore by one wrong look.

His bright red hair that contrasted against the tan sand was hard to miss around the Village. The air of power and confidence that followed Gaara’s every move, that left those terrified was more calm. He was still an intimating man to confront, but he was different now.

He spoke kinder words to his fellow shinobi, he protected his comrades, and he had forgiven those who scorned him. He is a changed man and that man was the one you fell head-over-heels for.

You were nervous to tell him your feelings, knowing he had no clue, but you just had to get it off your chest. You had to let him know that there are people who care about him and are proud of who he is becoming.

Which is why you found yourself at Gaara’s home with a box of baked goods in your hands ready to confess.

As you knocked on the door, your heart hammered in your chest. You soon heard footsteps approach the closed door, knowing this was your moment. Each second ticking by was shaking away your confidence.

In a split decision, you placed the box of baked goods down on the ground and high-tailed it down the street behind a blind corner.

Your breathing was raged and your heart rate was stammering. You sighed in defeat at how chicken you were, silently cursing yourself.

The overwhelming adrenaline you experienced moments ago faded, leaving you feeling physically exhausted and emotionally distress.

“Oh, if only I wasn’t so chicken, I would have told Gaara how much I like him,” you grumbled openly, voicing your distress.

However, little did you know that Gaara’s sand eye saw the whole ordeal.