#'i like to eat food that tastes good' he says as he actively bites down on his second slice of plain white bread

[mukuberry]

you should try this

or these

you eat them raw :)))))))) crumbchy yummy nom nom

nooo thank you im good i liek to eat food that tastes good and doesnt explode into crumbs when i bite down on it. u should just cook ur dang noodles

[pucksandpower]

Made with Love

Charles Leclerc x amateur baker!Reader

Summary: in which Charles would rather risk the entire paddock getting food poisoning (again) than break your heart by telling you that your baking is horrible

You hum to yourself as you pull a tray of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. The sweet, chocolaty aroma fills Charles’ kitchen, making your mouth water.

This batch is sure to be perfect! You’ve been practicing your baking skills for months now, determined to get it just right.

Charles wanders into the kitchen, drawn by the scent. “Mmm, something smells good in here!”

He peers over your shoulder at the tray of cupcakes. They’re a bit misshapen, with cracked tops that deflated the second they were taken out of the oven. The frosting is glopped on unevenly.

To you, they look absolutely mouthwatering. To Charles, they look … well, he loves you too much to say.

“Try one!” You urge, holding out a cupcake. Charles flashes you a hesitant smile before taking it. He peels back the liner and takes a bite. His eyes widen and he forces himself to chew and swallow.

“Well? How is it?” You ask eagerly.

Charles clears his throat. “It’s, uh, it’s great. Your best batch yet,” he lies. In truth, it’s dry and dense, with a strange bitter aftertaste. But the delight on your face makes the fib worth it.

You throw your arms around him in a hug. “Yay! I can’t wait to share them with the team this weekend.”

Charles’ stomach drops. The thought of the entire paddock pretending to enjoy your baking makes him cringe internally. But he plasters on a smile. “What a nice idea! I’m sure they’ll love them.”

The two of you arrive at the circuit and you can barely contain your excitement as you carry a large container of cupcakes into the paddock. Charles trails behind you, backpack slung over one shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist. He presses a quick kiss to your temple before you flit off to distribute your baked goods.

You first approach Max Verstappen, holding out a cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “Here Max, have one!”

Max eyes the treat dubiously but accepts it with a polite smile. “Thanks Y/N, that’s really nice of you.”

You beam and turn to Charles, missing the look of apprehension on Max’s face. Charles catches Max’s eye and draws a finger across his throat in warning. Max’s eyes widen but he nods in understanding. Charles won’t let anything ruin your mood today.

You make your way through the paddock, handing cupcakes to mechanics, engineers, PR reps, reporters, team principals, and drivers. Charles hovers behind you, keeping a watchful eye on each recipient.

Daniel Ricciardo visibly gags on his first bite when you turn away. Charles glares and shakes his head sharply. Daniel rearranges his face into a smile and gives a thumbs up.

Lando Norris takes an overly large bite and Charles has to pound on his back as he chokes it down.

Esteban Ocon discreetly spits his cupcake into a napkin when you’re not looking. Charles lunges forward and grabs his arm, squeezing tightly until Esteban wheezes out “Delicious!”

You remain blissfully unaware of the chaos that falls over the paddock in your wake, oblivious to Charles’ desperate interventions. All you see are your friends and acquaintances enjoying your baking.

When you finally offer a cupcake to Charles, he takes it and eats the whole thing without hesitation. Because even if it tastes like sugary sawdust, the delight on your face makes it the best treat in the world.

“Wasn’t that fun?” You gush to Charles afterwards. “I can’t wait to try out a new recipe soon!”

Charles just kisses your frosting-smudged nose and says, “I can’t wait either, mon amour.” As long as you’re happy, he’ll choke down all the questionable cupcakes you offer. Because your smile is the only thing that matters.

***

The paddock is bustling with activity as you and Charles arrive for the next race weekend, yet another batch of fresh baked goods in hand. You’re eager to share your latest creations — classic chocolate chunk cookies. You spent hours carefully following the recipe, determined to get them just right.

As you make your rounds distributing cookies, the reactions are the usual mix of forced smiles and discreet spitting. Charles trails behind you, glaring at anyone who doesn’t immediately rave about how delicious they are. The drivers and mechanics quickly catch on, showering you with praise and shooting Charles grateful looks when he turns you away.

You finally offer a cookie to Graham, a mechanic from the Mercedes team. He takes it hesitantly, eyeing Charles standing behind you. But Graham is new to the paddock and unaware of the baked goods situation.

He takes a bite and immediately grimaces. “Ugh, these taste terrible!” He blurts out.

You gasp, stumbling back as if struck. Tears well up in your eyes. Charles is at your side in an instant, pulling you into a comforting hug. Over your shoulder, he shoots Graham a look of absolute rage.

Graham realizes his mistake too late, shame washing over his face. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean ...” he stammers. But you’re already pulling away from Charles and rushing off, sobbing.

Charles turns on Graham, eyes blazing. “How could you? All she ever wants to do is make others happy!” Graham cowers before him, other mechanics backing away nervously.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking,” Graham says miserably.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” Charles snarls. “You stay away from her, you hear me?” Graham nods shakily. Satisfied the message is received, Charles races after you.

He finds you behind the garage, face buried in your hands. “Oh mon ange,” Charles murmurs, wrapping you in his arms. “Don’t listen to him, your cookies are perfect.”

You cling to Charles, sniffling. “I just wanted to do something nice for everyone. But I’m so horrible at baking!”

Charles tilts your chin up. “You listen to me. You have the biggest, kindest heart. It doesn’t matter if the cookies are a little, er, overdone. What matters is you put love into making them. Don’t let someone like Graham get you down.”

You smile tremulously. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best boyfriend ever?”

Charles grins. “Hmm, I don’t mind hearing it again.” Laughing through your tears, you tell him again, punctuating it with a kiss.

After ensuring you’re okay, Charles seeks out Graham. “I trust you’ll be more considerate going forward?” Graham nods meekly. “Good. But just so we’re clear, if you upset her again, you’ll be out of this paddock for good.”

The next day, the news breaks that Graham has been dismissed from the Mercedes team for “attitude issues.” You feel a bit guilty, hoping your cookies didn’t cause him to lose his job. But Charles seems strangely satisfied, so you don’t dwell on it.

From then on, Charles redoubles his efforts to protect your feelings whenever you provide baked goods. The paddock falls in line, fawning over your overly salty pretzels and dry banana bread.

The brightness of your smile makes it all worth it to Charles. Because keeping that joy and kindness shining in you is what matters most to him.

***

You step out of Charles’ Ferrari, the engine purring as he puts it in park. Taking his hand, you smile excitedly — today is another fan meetup organized by the team, and you can’t wait to connect with Charles’ supporters again.

“Are you ready, mon cœur?” Charles asks, squeezing your hand gently. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you adoringly.

“Absolutely!” You chirp, patting the large picnic basket hanging off your arm. “I made lots of treats to share today!”

Charles grins and leans in to kiss your forehead. “I’m sure they will love everything you made, as always.”

You beam, bolstered by his encouragement as you both make your way to the event. The meetup is being held in a local park, with tents and tables set up amongst the lush green grass and towering trees. You spot a long line of fans waiting eagerly for Charles’ arrival. Most are dressed in the familiar rosso corsa of Ferrari, holding posters and memorabilia for him to sign.

“Charles! Charles!” They chant excitedly when they see him. You hang back happily, letting him have his moment with his dedicated supporters. Charles takes selfies, signs autographs, and chats animatedly in Italian, French, and English. The fans are thrilled to interact with their racing idol.

After some time, Charles waves you over. “I would like you all to meet someone very special to me,” he announces, wrapping an arm around you. The fans erupt into cheers and applause. “This is Y/N, my love.”

You blush at the attention but manage to give a little wave. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to be here today.”

Charles addresses the crowd again. “As some of you know, Y/N loves to bake and has brought some special treats to share with you all today.”

This is met with more enthusiastic cheers. Though none of them particularly enjoy your baked goods, the fans appreciate the effort and know Charles likes to reward them for humoring you.

You open up your large picnic basket, beaming with pride. “I made my favorite oatmeal raisin cookies, some lemon squares, and my famous rocky road fudge!”

The fans try not to visibly cringe, lining up politely with plates held out. You happily distribute your overly dry, burnt cookies and gooey, cloying fudge. The lemon squares are mushy and saccharine. But the fans accept it all with smiles and encouragement.

“Mmm, delicious!” One teenage girl forces out through a mouthful of your fudge.

An older man gives you a thumbs up as he chokes down a cookie, eyes watering. “So good!”

You beam, pleased that they enjoy your baking so much. As you chat with each person, you don’t notice Charles discreetly handing out autographed photos, caps, and other prized memorabilia to reward the fans for their efforts.

After you’ve handed out all your baked goods, Charles suggests a stroll through the park gardens. As you walk hand-in-hand admiring the flowers, he says softly, “You have such a big heart, Y/N. The way you care so much about connecting with the fans means the world to me.”

You squeeze his hand gratefully. “It’s the least I can do — they support you in everything, so I want to support them too.”

Charles stops and turns to you, his expression tender. “You are amazing, truly. I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He leans in and kisses you sweetly. Your heart flutters just like the first time your lips met.

When you return from your walk, the event is winding down. You say goodbye to the fans, who thank you profusely for the treats and making their day so special. You tell them you can’t wait to bake for them again soon!

After the last fan leaves, it’s just you and Charles. The late afternoon sun casts golden light on the empty picnic tables.

“Did you have fun, mon amour?” Charles asks, caressing your cheek.

“The best time!” You say enthusiastically. “I just love baking for your wonderful fans and seeing how it makes them smile.”

Charles’ eyes are full of love. He kisses the top of your head. “As long as it makes you happy, that’s all that matters to me.”

You snuggle into his chest happily. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“I don’t think so,” Charles teases. “Why don’t you remind me again?”

You grin up at him. “I’ll tell you over dinner … I have a new donut recipe I want to try out.”

Charles fights down a grimace as he reminds himself that your love is more than worth suffering through another dreadful dessert. “I can’t wait!”

***

“Mate, you have to stop her before she poisons someone,” Max whispers urgently to Charles as you step out of the room.

Charles furrows his brow. “What are you talking about?”

“Your girlfriend. Her baking. It’s … it’s just terrible. I’m sorry, but it has to be said.”

Charles lets out a dismissive chuckle. “Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Max raises his eyebrows incredulously. “I chipped a tooth on her brownie last week!”

Charles rubs the back of his neck awkwardly as he avoids making eye contact.

“Look, I get that you don’t want to upset her,” Max continues, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “But we can’t keep lying and pretending it’s good! One of these days, someone is going to end up in the hospital.”

Charles sighs deeply, running a hand through his tousled hair. “What do you want me to do? If I tell her the truth, she’ll be devastated.”

You return to the room then, a bright smile on your face as you carry a plate of freshly baked apple tarts. “Who wants one?”

Max cringes almost imperceptibly while Charles shoots him a warning look. “They look great, ma belle!” He says with forced enthusiasm, taking one and bringing it to his lips.

The apple filling is gelatinous and tastes faintly of soap. Charles forces himself to swallow it with a strained smile. Max quickly declines when you offer him one.

Later that evening, Charles finds Max alone outside his apartment building. “I need your help,” he admits defeatedly.

Max looks at him expectantly.

“With Y/N’s baking … how do I get her to stop without completely crushing her?”

His friend contemplates this for a moment. “Well … you could try convincing her to take up a new hobby instead?”

Charles shakes his head. “I’ve suggested that before, but she’s dead set on baking. It’s her biggest passion.”

“Okay, then you’ll have to take a different approach.” Max strokes his chin thoughtfully. “What if … you told her a bunch of us were going vegan or something, so she couldn’t bake for us anymore?”

Charles raises an eyebrow at the suggestion, but then slowly nods. “You know, that could actually work …”

The next day, you eagerly bring a fresh batch of blueberry muffins to the paddock to share with everyone. Charles takes a deep breath before pulling you aside gently.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?” He starts, trying to keep his expression neutral.

You blink up at him curiously. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well …” He clears his throat. “I was talking to the guys and … Lewis has actually convinced a bunch of them to go vegan. Lando, Max …”

He lists off a dozen more names, watching as realization dawns on your face. Your shoulders slump slightly.

“Oh … I see.” You glance down at the muffins in your hands. “I guess that means I can’t really bake for them anymore.”

Charles feels a pang of guilt at the disappointment in your eyes. But then, your expression brightens again.

“I’ll just have to start baking vegan treats instead!” You declare happily. “This is so exciting, I’ve been wanting to experiment with more plant-based ingredients!”

Charles’s shoulders tense as the plan epically backfires. Of course you’d take this as an opportunity to bake even more.

Over the next few weeks, you gleefully embrace the vegan baking lifestyle. Charles has to smother his laughter when Max nearly chokes biting into one of your “chewy” vegan brownies. Lando spits out a mouthful of your gritty vegan chocolate cake when you’re not looking.

You, however, remain blissfully unaware of how dreadful your creations are. No matter how many hints Charles tries to drop, the problem only seems to be getting worse.

One evening, you set a plate of fresh-from-the-oven vegan peanut butter cookies on the coffee table, plopping down on the couch next to Charles with a proud grin.

“Try one!” You insist, picking a cookie up and holding it in front of his lips.

Charles hesitates for just a second too long. Your face falls and he scrambles to take a bite, barely suppressing a wince as he chews on what feels like a solid lump of chalk mixed with peanut shavings. He forces himself to swallow it down with an enthusiastic grin.

“Wow, these are incredible!” He lies through his teeth. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

You perk up immediately, the dejected look vanishing. “You really think so? I tried a new recipe I found online.”

“Definitely a winner,” Charles affirms, trying his best to sound convincing. “We should bring some to the paddock for everyone to try.”

Your eyes light up at the suggestion and guilt twists in Charles’s gut. The last thing he wants is for the other drivers to have to suffer through these … confections. But he could never be the one to shatter your baking dreams.

The next day at the track, you eagerly pass around the plate of peanut butter hockey pucks to the drivers and crew. Charles discreetly pulls Max aside with a pained look.

“Please, I’m begging you …” he murmurs under his breath. “Just smile and nod, no matter how bad they are.”

Max grimaces as he takes an experimental bite of one of the cookies, his expression doing little to mask his revulsion. But he meets Charles’s pleading gaze and forces out a strangled, “Mmm … great!”

One by one, the others follow suit — fake smiles and strained praises as they choke down your baked atrocities. You remain obliviously pleased, unaware of their suffering.

Over the next few weeks, the vegan baking experiments only seem to get worse and worse. The paddock has become a silent circle of culinary martyrs — all sworn to an unspoken code to preserve your feelings at all costs.

You proudly present a tray of charcoal-colored muffins that leave the entire garage coughing from the plume of burnt flour. “Tried a new recipe for dark chocolate avocado muffins!” You explain brightly.

“Can’t wait to dig in,” Lando is close to crying, his eyes already watering.

Charles has to bite back a laugh as Max takes a heroic bite, barely managing to keep it together. He pats the Dutchman on the back firmly as the poor guy fights back a gag reflex.

“Two more words about her baking and you’ll be racing with three wheels next season,” he warns Carlos in a low mutter after witnessing the Spaniard nearly vomit up a slice of your “moist” vegan zucchini bread.

The sheer willpower it takes for the entire crew to maintain the facade is almost impressive. Technique and strategy meetings have now become immense displays of unspoken fortitude — everyone driven by the simple goal of not letting you catch on that your baked goods are, in fact, completely inedible.

Charles has started bringing backup protein bars and shakes to every race just to make sure nobody accidentally lapses into baked good-induced delirium.

He really has no idea how much longer this can possibly be sustained. But he also has no idea how to safely extract the situation without demolishing your passion and self-confidence in the process.

For now, his main objective is to ensure your bright smile and cheerfulness remain unchanged — no matter how many mouths he has to personally silence to make that happen.

At the end of the day, having you by his side, radiating that infectious joy and following your heart’s desire, is worth enduring all the subpar vegan muffins in the world.

He’ll take a bite of your latest abomination with an adoring grin, because that’s what partners who truly love each other do — they support each other through the good, the bad, and the burnt-to-a-crisp.

***

It’s the start of a new season, and Charles has been racking his brain for a solution to the ongoing baking saga. As much as he loves indulging your passion, the charade is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. The entire paddock is at their wits’ end trying to choke down your vegan torture devices week after week.

That’s when he has an idea — one he hopes will be a win-win for everyone involved.

“Surprise!” He says with an excited grin, presenting you with the envelopes. “I got us signed up for this baking course. I thought it could be fun for us to take some classes together!”

You’re beaming as you throw your arms around his neck. “That’s such a thoughtful idea! I would love nothing more.”

Of course, Charles being Charles is hardly fully forthright about his motivations. “To be honest, I’m the one who really needs the help,” he fibs sheepishly. “We all know I’m a disaster in the kitchen. But with your talents guiding me, maybe there’s hope!”

Over the next few weeks, you and Charles diligently show up for your baking classes. The instructor walks you through fundamentals like properly measuring ingredients, controlling oven temperatures, and mastering technical skills. Slowly but surely, your creations start emerging looking (and smelling) better and better.

One evening, you return home with a fresh tray of beautifully baked chocolate chip cookies — the first delicacy you’ve felt confident enough to bake since the lessons. You present them to Charles with bated breath.

He takes one tentative bite, his eyes widening in surprise. These are actually ... edible! More than edible — they are legitimately delicious! The dough-to-chip ratio is perfect, the texture is chewy but not dry or crumbly. He quickly stuffs two more into his mouth with an appreciative moan.

“Ma belle … these are incredible!” He gasps out between bites.

You clap your hands over your mouth, eyes shining with glee. “Oh my gosh, you really think so? I was so nervous!”

“Are you kidding? I could eat this entire tray all by myself!”

The two of you dissolve into celebratory laughter and hugs, the sweet taste of success quite literally on your tongues.

“I think it’s time for the real taste test,” you declare one day, rolling up your sleeves as you start prepping an array of fresh baked goods. “We’re taking these bad boys to the paddock!”

The next race weekend, you stride in carrying bakery boxes of your fresh chocolate chip cookies as well as some decadent fudge brownies.

“Fresh out of the oven!” You announce proudly, setting them down with a bright grin. “Who’s hungry?”

For a long beat, nobody moves. The drivers exchange wary glances, their self-preservation instincts kicking in as they recall the many baking debacles of the past. Lando bravely reaches for a brownie first, his face scrunched up preemptively-

Only to blink in surprise as the rich, fudgy flavor hits his taste buds. His eyes widen comically as he takes another bite. “Bloody hell ... this is actually good!”

The words seem to shatter the suspended tension. Soon the entire paddock is swarming the trays, devouring the fresh baked goods with delight. Charles watches on in disbelief, his own taste buds experiencing flavors he didn’t even know were possible from your former creations.

He sees Max take a bite of one of the cookies, freezing in place as his eyes slip closed with an expression of pure bliss. When they open again, Charles is alarmed to see they’re glistening with unshed tears.

The Dutchman wordlessly holds up the cookie, gazing at Charles reverently as a lone tear trails down his cheek. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he brings the baked good to his lips and takes another sensual bite, savoring it like it’s the first good thing he’s ever tasted.

From then on, it’s like a switch has been flipped. The paddock that once dreaded your baking now seemingly can’t get enough of it. Every race weekend, they await your fresh creations with unrestrained enthusiasm, like kids on a sugar bender.

Charles has lost count of how many times he’s caught drivers and crew sneaking off to wherever you’re prepping the latest batch, nostrils flaring as they try to scout out that heavenly aroma.

It’s gotten to the point where Max’s performance coach has had to implement strict rules about his treat consumption to prevent indulgences from derailing his season.

“Easy there, Max!” Rupert calls in a booming tone, swooping in to physically restrain the Dutchman as he makes a mad dash toward where you’re unpacking that week’s fresh delivery. “You know you have a limit on those.”

Max strains against his performance coach’s grip, eyes zeroing in on the platter of goodies being unloaded with unrestrained longing. “I don’t care, she brought triple chocolate cookie dough brownies this time! Let me go!”

Rupert grunts in exertion, struggling to keep his driver in check. “This is for your own good! Think of your diet!”

“That’s irrelevant!” Max practically snarls, pupils blown wide like an addict suffering from withdrawals. “Do you have any idea how long I waited to have real baked goods again?”

It’s a battle of wills and metabolism that quickly becomes a weekly sight. Charles can’t help but chuckle fondly as he watches Max and Rupert’s familiar tug-of-war happen like clockwork every Sunday.

As much as he’d love to intervene, he knows better than to come between Max and your heavenly baked creations. He’s just thrilled that this baking journey took such a delicious turn — both for your invigorated culinary passion and for the safety of everyone’s tastebuds.

Honestly, he’ll take the sight of a feverish Max drooling over freshly baked goods any day over having to choke down burnt muffins and brittle biscuits. This is the sweet upgrade everyone had been dreaming about.

The true recipe for happiness was sticking by each other’s side through all those halfbaked stumbles.

[jjkamochoso]

How do you think jjk men would court their crush? Feel free to add anyone you want but I would love to read about Choso.

OMG SO CUTE!!!! Thanks for the request and I hope you like it <3

JJK Men Courting Their Crush

A/n: okay so for this, I chose to depict most situations as their first time doing a certain courting activity with you so they’re a lil nervous and haven’t made their crush on you explicitly clear🫣 I hope that’s alright and makes sense!! And I can do a part 2 of them doing the same courtship things but with a confession, just lmk if that’s something you guys want🫶 please enjoy below!!

JJK men x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Yuji: cooking for you

“So, y/n, what do you think?”

Yuji was standing over you as you took a bite of the dish he made. Nervous energy was radiating off of him. He didn’t have much experience in the romance department but knew that usually the quickest way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. He wanted to treat you to some of his favorite dishes as a way to show you that you mean a great deal to him and hopefully get to know you better over a good meal. He had prepped in the school’s kitchen all day after spending hours trying to decide which entrees you’d like the best. He thought back to the times you all went out to eat in the city and what you ordered, then thought about what recipes he knew that were similar. As he was cooking, he hoped you liked what he made enough to where he could eventually do it for you every night.

As soon as it hit your tongue, you felt the warmth of the lovingly cooked food spread through your body. You could tell he spent lots of time on this for you and you were extremely flattered that he would go out of his way to do something like this for you.

“Yuji, it’s absolutely divine. I haven’t had something this yummy in years.”

Yuji put a hand on the back of his neck, sheepish from your compliments.

“I’m really glad you liked it. I have some more recipes that I’ve been meaning to try out and you would be the perfect taste tester if you’re up for doing this often.”

Your eyes lit up. “That would be amazing! But are you sure you wouldn’t mind cooking for me that much?”

“Of course,” he said earnestly, “it’d be tons of fun. Besides, I really like hanging out with you.”

And I really like being the cause of your adorable smile! he wanted to say, but decided to save those words for another time. Chatting and laughing with you was enough for now—maybe he’d cook up enough confidence one day to tell you how he really feels about you.

Megumi: making you playlists

Megumi couldn’t stop fidgeting as he waited for you to meet up with him before class. You had mentioned that you wanted new songs to listen to so when you asked him for recommendations, he took the collecting of songs very seriously. He was never good with his words so maybe you’d get the hint that he had a crush on you from some of the songs he chose. He heard your steps coming down the hall and it was like he forgot how to stand and breathe like a normal human being. He shoved his hands in his pockets and studied a stray rock lying on the ground to look busy.

“Hey Megumi!” you greeted, making him jump slightly. He mumbled out a “hello” and immediately dug into his backpack, a CD emerging from its inky depths.

“Well, I, uh-I didn’t know if you used Spotify or YouTube or something else but I know you mentioned having a CD player so… yeah. Here.”

He thrusted the CD into your hands without meeting your eyes. The plastic case held a disc that said “Y/n’s Playlist” in sharpie.

“Thank you so much!” you said, inspecting it, “I’ll give this a listen after class. I really do appreciate you taking the time to do this for me.”

“It’s nothing,” replied Megumi, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh wait, I won’t know the song names or artists when I listen to this. Wanna come over later and help me make a track list?”

Megumi felt his face burn up with a blush. “Y-yeah. That, uh, sounds great.”

He’d definitely have to make you more playlists and keep forgetting to include that pertinent information!

Yuta: complimenting you nonstop

“Y/n! I like your shirt!”

“Y/n! Great fighting form!”

“That joke was hilarious, you’re so funny, y/n!”

These were things you were used to hearing when you were around Yuta. He was always showering you with compliments, not that you were complaining. He had a major crush on you and wanted to start letting you know that he saw, appreciated, and admired you without revealing his full feelings for now. You and your classmates were training on the field and Yuta was your sparring partner.

“Wow, you really pinned me down quick! That was amazing,” Yuta said as you extended a hand to help him up.

“You’re always so sweet, thank you,” you replied. “You were really good, though, too! I’m sure you’ll get me next time. You’re super strong.”

Yuta felt his breath hitch in his throat. He was superb at giving compliments but horrible at receiving them.

“Geez, that, umm… it means a-a lot coming from you because you’re so great. Thank you.”

“Please, I’m not that cool! You’re awesome as well,” you told him.

“Yeah, but not as awesome as you!”

It seemed that you two were stuck in a never ending cycle of compliments. After a few more rounds of back and forth, you agreed that you were both cool and strong and whatever other positives you could think of. Yuta left the field in high spirits, thinking of all the creative ways he could tell you how cute you were the next time he saw you.

Inumaki: giving you flowers

Toge stood, clippers in hand, eyeing the flowers in front of him with an intensity rarely seen from the blonde. He was trying to decide on which flowers to cut to make you a bouquet. Taking flowers for personal purposes would normally be extremely frowned upon but he was the plant caretaker and figured he could get away with snipping a few here and there. He thought back to all of your previous conversations, wracking his brain for any moments you might have mentioned a favorite all those times you walked here together. He remembered you’d said you liked them all so he really couldn’t choose wrong. When he made up his mind and clipped his picks, he smiled under his pulled up collar. He walked over to your dorm, an extra pep in his step.

“Toge! Hi!” you greeted kindly as you opened your door. His collar was now pulled down and you felt your heart swell at seeing his cursed marks curled in a happy expression. You were afraid you were about to get pranked when you saw he had his hands behind his back, but your fears were quelled when he presented you with a small bouquet of flowers.

“These are for me?” you asked, surprised.

He shook his head. “Salmon.”

“You’re the best! Thank you!”

You grabbed him into a hug, careful not to crush the flowers. He’d keep bringing you bouquets until either you got the hint that he liked you as more than a friend or he got the courage to write out his feelings.

Noritoshi: writing you letters

It was hard to make friends at the Kyoto school since your classmates were always so on edge about letting people get close, but you and Noritoshi had somehow bypassed that fear and your acquaintance turned into something deeper over the years. Unfortunately for Noritoshi, his feelings now dove even deeper than that, finding himself in the throes of a crush. Unsure of what to do, he’d tried ignoring the nagging feelings in heart every time you spoke to each other, but it never work. After much introspection and consideration, he determined that it would be wise to see if you felt the same. If you did, great. If you didn’t, he’d be released from the constant “what if’s” running through his mind. As he started putting pen to paper, he felt his confidence falter. Who pours their feelings into a letter instead of speaking face to face? Is that cowardly? He changed gears; this letter wouldn’t be of romantic intent, per se, but just of a way to get to know you better and show you he cares about what you think, how you feel, and whatever else he managed to write before his fingers failed him. When he nervously slipped the sealed paper under your dorm door a few days later, he anxiously awaited to see when you would mention it in your face to face conversation with him—you didn’t.

Imagine his surprise when he was greeted with his own letter hours later! You had expressed your delight in his letter and wanted to keep him as a consistent pen pal for the near future. Noritoshi’s hands grasped your letter, fingers tracing your words. With this new open view of each other’s hearts, your private conversations safe from prying ears, he yearned for the day he could tell you the truth of his heart before it was spilled in ink.

Todo: carrying/lifting things for you

Aoi knew you were more than capable of handling things yourself but he wanted to show you that he’d be your perfect, strong protector so he’d always offer to carry whatever you were holding, no matter how big or small. At school? He’d carry your books. Grocery shopping together? He’d lift all the heavy items in and out of the cart. Need to move your car but you’re too lazy to get up? Consider it done—he just picked it up and moved it. He hoped that by continuing to show up for you like this, you’d see how much he really likes you. Of course, he wouldn’t be afraid of speaking to you about his crush on you, but he would rather go out of his way to impress you first before stating his obvious attraction to you.

“Y/n! Let me get that for you!”

Your dorm room door was propped open and Aoi had shown up, seemingly out of nowhere, when you were struggling to move some furniture around in your room. He lifted the couch with ease and shot you an award winning grin and wink.

“Just tell me where you want it.”

You pointed to a spot near the window and he put the couch down gracefully, barely making a sound.

“Anything else I can help with?” he asked eagerly. He’d rearrange the layout of the entire school if you asked him to—anything to make you happy!

Gojo: buying you gifts

Satoru was not the type to outright tell someone he had a crush on them. You know, the whole “love is the greatest curse of all” thing? He’d much rather ignore those feelings in hopes of them disappearing. So when he found himself fawning over you nonstop, he didn’t know the right way to convey his desire to connect with you on a deeper level. He might’ve been running on empty in regard to romantic skills, but his bank account was severely overflowing. He began to take mental notes on everything you looked at and put back while in Tokyo during your shopping trips and visited those places to buy all of it on his own.

“I got this for you.”

Satoru had several bags by their handles that he gently nudged toward you. Confused, you opened them, greeted by multiple items that you had taken notice of but didn’t have the funds to purchase. You didn’t remember Satoru even being there when you were browsing them in the first place.

“Satoru, how did you-”

“I pay attention more than people think,” he shrugged, glad to have his blindfold covering his eyes so you couldn’t see how they softened when they met yours.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said, trying not to cry tears of happiness.

He chuckled. “I know. You deserve nice things, though. If you can’t treat yourself, then allow me to.”

He was glad he turned infinity off to feel your arms wrap around his in a tight hug. Even if the words evaded him at the moment, he’d be sure to keep showing how much he cares for you by giving you things to remember him by.

Geto: taking you to the farmer’s market

“Come, y/n, I have a fun morning planned for us.”

Suguru had texted you and invited you to the local farmer’s market. You, of course, accepted readily, and now that he was here to pick you up, he was starting to feel a little nervous. Your friendship was a wonderful thing but Suguru craved to get to know you better and see if you shared the same romantic affections he was feeling toward you. He figured that going somewhere low key like a farmer’s market would be great to cultivate easy conversations. As you two walked together, admiring the handiwork of the local artists, you shivered from a cold breeze that kicked up. Suguru was quick to remove his outer layer and drape it over your shoulders.

“Oh, Suguru, I don’t want you to get cold.”

“I’m alright, I promise. I’d rather be a little chilly than see you freeze on my behalf. May I buy you a warm drink as well?”

After that, you were nice and toasty and he glad he could help in any way he could. When the market was closed and you two walked back home, you decided to make a visit here an every week occurrence. Suguru was sure that in a few weeks’ time, he’d prove to you that he’d be a great partner.

Nanami: cooking with you

Kento wasn’t sure how to approach the topic of his romantic feelings toward you. He valued straightforward communication, but he couldn’t find it within himself to outright express his desires for romance right now. Instead, he opted to show you he cared by inviting you over to cook a meal together. He had asked you to pick a recipe and went shopping for all the ingredients. Now that you were finally over at his place, he felt his palms getting sweaty as saw you chopping vegetables, looking extremely cute while doing so. You gave him a sweet smile when you noticed him staring and he quickly looked away, a blush apparent on his cheeks. You dropped the veggies into the hot pan and he started cooking them. You two worked well together, never in each other’s ways and able to partake in conversation while keeping the task at hand. When dinner was ready, you were ecstatic that everything tasted delicious.

“Is it alright if I ask you to join me again sometime soon?” Kento asked.

“I would love nothing more,” you replied sweetly, his stomach now teeming with butterflies.

Choso: stargazing with you

Choso had zero experience with any type of romantic love. He was the expert in familial loyalty, a prime example of being a great big brother, but being a boyfriend? Not his forte. However, his desire to woo you outweighed his nerves so that’s what led him to call you and tell you to meet him outside one night. He read online that looking at the stars is a good way to induce romance and he was determined to prove to you that he’d be a worthy partner. You were taken aback when you saw he had set up blankets on the ground and put out picnic baskets of snacks. He had even wrapped you up in another blanket so you didn’t get cold! Once you were settled, you both chatted about anything and everything as you gazed at the wonders of the night sky.

“Choso! A shooting star, quick, make a wish!”

It was quiet for some time.

“What’d you wish for?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m not supposed to say or else it won’t come true,” you teased, nudging his arm. “What about you?”

He was studying the sky before he looked back at you. “I wished to keep having the privilege of sitting here with you as many days as I can.”

You felt yourself go shy at his confession but it certainly wasn’t unwelcome. After that, you had plans in place to meet up again in a few days to do it all over. Choso was hoping that his next wish would also come true—that he’d be confident enough to bring the true feelings of his heart to light.

Toji: inviting you to local music shows

There was nothing better to Toji than a cheap activity, an attractive person by his side, and the promise of alcohol. That’s what led him to extend an invitation to you to join him at a small concert being held by a band you both liked. When you met him outside the run down venue, Toji felt his heart rate pick up as he saw how good you looked. His calm and collected demeanor didn’t change a bit, though, as he lazily threw an arm over your shoulder and walked with you inside.

“This place is super cool, Toji,” you said, taking in your surroundings.

He smirked. “I knew you’d like it. Wanna get something to drink?”

Toji wasn’t known for having tons of money but he liked you enough to pay for the first round of your drinks. As the band finished setting up their equipment and started playing their first song, you had a blast dancing along while he kept stealing glances at you between sips of his drink, relieved that you were having fun. You were able to convince him to dance with you after a few more drinks (not that the drinks affected his decision making—he just couldn’t deny a request from someone as hot as you). As the night wound down and he walked you home, he felt an excitement spark in his heart that he hadn’t known in a long time. He hoped that one day he’d stop being a coward and tell you he really liked you, but for now, he’d be content just holding you in his arms—and definitely keeping an eye out for flyers with information for the next show.

[cranberrymoons]

peppermint chocolate

prompt: came back wrong (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: m word count: 766 words tags: vampire eddie, morning fluff, established relationship

welcome to Day 2 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

---

So, it turns out vampires can go out in the sun after all, which is… good to know? They just can’t be out in direct sunlight for too long without whining about it, or – that might just be Eddie, actually, but he’s the only vampire who exists, or at least the only one Steve has ever met, so.

Whatever.

Steve never expected for the intricacies of vampire morphology to be relevant to his life. He also never expected to survive hell a half dozen times or get the shit kicked out of him about as often, but – here we are.

“Are you even really a vampire?” he’d asked when he got over the initial shock of Eddie being not dead. “I mean, you don’t fly, you don’t get burned by the sun, you’re eating garlic knots…”

And Eddie had looked up from the pizza he was actively shoveling into his mouth after a week presumed dead in an alternate dimension and just – shrugged. 

Because whatever? Who knows what he really is. 

The demogorgons aren’t actually demogorgons; that’s just what Dustin decided to call them. The Upside Down isn’t really the Upside Down; that’s just the best way to make it make sense in their brains. 

And the vampire currently sliding his arms around Steve’s waist and hooking a chin over his shoulder and yawning with the sharp points of little fangs sticking out is maybe not actually a vampire, but the kiss he presses into the crook of Steve’s neck comes with a little nip that breaks the skin and makes blood bead up to the surface. 

So… vampire. 

Steve is used to it enough by now that he just grunts around his toothbrush and rubs a hand over Eddie’s forearm in morning greeting. He tilts his head to get him to shift his teeth to the skin of his shoulder where he’ll be able to cover it more easily when he goes to work later, lets his eyes fall shut as he feels the familiar pinch and pull of Eddie finding a vein to tap into.

“That’s enough,” he says after a moment. 

He spits foam into the sink, and Eddie bends with him, still latched on. Steve feels his head start to spin with it, and he digs his nails into the back of Eddie’s hand to get his attention.

“Eddie. Enough.”

He feels the sharp points of his teeth pull out of his skin, and then the warm flat of his tongue laving over the pinpricks of the wound, and he takes a deep breath.

“Sorry,” Eddie says quietly. He presses a soft kiss to the mark, already healing over to be replaced by a bruise. “I’m hungry.”

Steve raises his eyebrows at Eddie where their eyes meet in the mirror. “You’ve got to let me eat something first before you take too much,” he reminds him. “There’s a reason they give you cookies when you donate blood.”

Eddie’s arms tighten their hold on his stomach, and Steve can feel the hot, hard press of him behind as he crowds in closer. He’s always like this right after he feeds: all hands and lips and tongue. He still eats normal food, too, but they’d figured out early on that he can’t go more than a few days without getting hungry for… well. 

The other thing.

Steve turns his head to give Eddie what he’s after, lets him push his tongue past his lips into his mouth and lick over the ridges of his teeth. There’s an iron tang in Eddie’s mouth that mixes with the minty toothpaste taste on Steve’s tongue, and it makes him inch closer, letting Eddie nudge him up onto the countertop, crowding between his legs to get closer.

Eddie’s stomach makes a ravenous noise, and Steve pulls back to run a hand over the flushed line of his cheek, pumping warm with his blood.

“Go make breakfast,” he says quietly. He brushes another kiss over Eddie’s mouth. “Please?”

Eddie hums. “Is that the deal? Pancakes for blood?”

“That’s the deal,” Steve says. He raises his eyebrows. “No breakfast for me, no breakfast for you.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll add chocolate chips,” Eddie says. He licks out and lets his tongue catch on the backs of Steve’s teeth. “Or peppermint. Sweeten you up a little more. Stick a straw in you like a juice box.”

Steve just smiles, tweaking the ends of his hair where his elbows are looped over Eddie’s shoulders. 

“If you make me mint chocolate chip pancakes, you can do whatever you want.”

[also on ao3]

[captainnameless]

This is no stress and only when/if you have the time and inspiration.

But talk to me about super hyper little Max please😇

It doesn’t get like this very often, Max quite literally bouncing off the walls. Max gets excited, sure. About race day, about cheat meals, about Daddy time, about flags and animals, but rarely this… active.

It’s usually a sign of overstimulation, they’d been pretty busy these past few weeks, very little time with each other and even littler time for any regressing. Daniel’s glad the coin’s fallen this way though, he loves Max regardless but this is a little easier to deal with than an overly defiant Max who toes the line of boundaries and oversteps until Daniel puts a stop to it.

The pancakes don’t help though.

“Taste?” Max asks, holding out a bite for Daniel to take and Daniel blinks slowly, eyeing Max, then the bite, then GP, who shrugs sheepishly.

“He deserved a treat.”

Max always deserves a treat, Daniel thinks. But he’s also thinking about the added sugars and their 10 hour flight they’re about to get on. Oh well.

Daniel wasn’t wrong about the extra sugar, he tries getting Max to take a nap on the plane but Max is way too busy chatting, coloring, he’s doing puzzle games on his phone and keeps getting up out of his seat to walk around.

There’s a minor tantrum that Daniel has to navigate them through when he denies Max a Red Bull, distracts him with a Trash Truck episode and gives him an apple juice instead.

Max falls asleep on the ride home from Nice to Monaco and Daniel curses silently because this is not a good time to fall asleep and he knows this will bite him in the ass for bedtime but he doesn’t want to risk waking Max up and having to navigate another tantrum while driving.

Max wakes up 2 minutes from home like he senses it and turns on immediately. He’s darted up the stairs to the penthouse, refused the elevator while Daniel struggles with their luggage, and goes straight for the cats.

Daniel’s still navigating their luggage and then goes to take Max’s shoes off when he’s having a moment of being in one spot to cuddle his pets.

As soon as his feet are free he takes off and Daniel has to catch him again to remind him of the “no running inside” rule but takes Max’s sock off anyway, knows his boy well enough to know Max’s listening ears might not be tuned right now and he’s limiting the risk of a slip and fall.

Max tips over the entire bin of legos they have, busies himself with it while Daniel whips up some dinner, comes in to the kitchen every five minutes with a “Daddy, look!” while showing off a new build and explaining what it is.

Daniel realizes quickly Max is not going to stay seated for dinner, and pulls him into his lap instead in hopes to keep him there and get some food into the boy.

Max tries sliding off again after two bites and Daniel wraps an arm around his waist, keeping him in place. “Can you keep your butt still for a minute?” Daniel chuckles lightly and Max whines at him.

“My butt doesn’t want to be still.”

“We’re having dinner, buddy.” Daniel says, squeezing Max’s hip. “I’d appreciate it if you would sit and eat it, you like the lasagna.” He adds, grabbing Max’s fork and pressing it down into the lasagna and then offering Max the piece.

Max nods and opens his mouth for the bite, then speaks with his mouth full. “I like it but my butt doesn’t.”

Daniel rolls his eyes fondly, shifts Max a bit and feeds him another bite. “Too bad for your butt.”

Max finishes most of his plate before Daniel decides he cannot contain him anymore and takes the victory with most of the dish gone.

Max is dashing through the living again when Daniel catches him around the waist, digging his fingers into the soft skin around his fingers. “What did Daddy say?”

Max bursts into a fit of tickles immediately trying to unsuccessfully squirm out of Daniel trying to reply but his voice is cut off by another squeaky giggle when the tickling doesn’t stop.

“I can’t hear you.” Daniel smirks, shifting his grip and moving Max around so he can tickle all the way up under his arm. Pulling a delightful squeal out of the younger and another fit of giggles around a “Please Daddy!”

“Huh?” Daniel asks, pausing his tickles, still holding Max. “What was that?”

Max gasps for breath, cheeks flushed, big smile. “Please don’t, Daddy.” He breathes. “No running.”

“Oh, so you do know?”

The flush on Max’s cheeks deepens then, and he goes to bury himself in Daniel’s chest. “I’m too awake! I need to get the shakes out.”

Daniel sighs gently, wrapping Max up in a quick cuddle, the gears in his brain working as he tries to think of something. He really can’t be arsed to go on a run right now, sticking Max in front of a screen will probably only make it worse but he is suddenly reminded of Max’s pool.

“Wanna go for a swim?”

Max nearly forgets the no running rule again when he’s going to grab his trunks, and again when Daniel opens the sliding doors and Max makes a run for the pool, this time he argues they’re not inside anymore.

They splash until their fingers are wrinkly and Daniel takes his tike shampooing Max’s hair in the outside shower and sneaks in a little massage he hopes will mean Max gets a little sleepier.

He gets his first yawn when he’s helping Max into pajama’s which gives Daniel a tiny bit of hope that bedtime will be alright until they’re laying in bed and Max’s bright blue eyes are staring right at them.

“Maxie,” Daniel whispers, grabs Leo from in between them and uses his paw to gently stroke Max’s nose. “Close your eyes, baby.”

Max whines around his thumb, scooting closer to Daniel, speech a little slurred around the digit. “ ‘m not sleepy.”

Daniel bites back his own whine. “Daddy’s sleepy, and Leo’s sleepy. Can you try, please darling?”

Max nods, such a good boy, and scrunches his eyes shut that brings a smile to Daniel’s face. “Relax, bubba.” He whispers, goes back to using Leo’s soft paw to gently map Max’s face, trace over his brows and the bridge of his nose until the scrunch is gone.

He switches tactics then, maneuvers Max onto his chest and gently scratches his fingers into the shaved up bits of Max’s hair, lips pressed against the top of his head while he murmurs a song Max likes.

He’s worried he’s gonna murmur himself to sleep before Max but right as his own eyes start to feel too heavy he feels Max relax all the way, breathing evening out.

Daniel gives him one more kiss before his own eyes shut.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Flufftober prompt 21: Picnic (Eyeless Jack)

Chat I'm not going to lie the motivation to finish flufftober has been dwindling but good god I just got a brainblast for this prompt you dont understand list here plot: You and Eyeless Jack go on a picnic in the woods together, you're the only one who can eat what was packed... notes: reader is gn, hc that jack can no longer eat normal human food and it makes him ill + it all tastes gross to him now, this is new info to the reader, following the hc of "jack got sucked into cult activities on accident and got fucked up" word count: 781 cws: mentions of vomit

Your fingers tapped against your glass, lips resting on the rim as your eyes looked at the various snacks and foods you had brought along with you for your outing with Jack. He was in the middle of speaking when you had noticed that he hadn't touched any of the food. Your lips purse and pull away from the glass, and you look at him.

"Are you not hungry?" You asked, frowning. You'd spent all morning preparing for the evening that you couldn't help but feel just a little hurt that he seemed so disinterested in the spread in front of him. Your glass is set on a coaster with a soft clink.

He stopped talking and slowly faced his masked face to you. Deep pits of black gave nothing away as he took a moment to think over what to say. "I thought you already knew, I can't eat," He said. "I've seen you eat before though?"

You pick up a strawberry and roll it between your fingers, picking off the leaves. His face tracked the fruit as he spoke again. "Not food,"

Pausing, you let the berry roll into your palm and close your finger around it.

He shrugged, as if the revelation should have been obvious. "You haven't noticed?" A pause before he continued when you didn't respond. "It makes me sick, at best it just... falls out of my mouth, can't bring myself to swallow it." He lowered his head and scanned his gaze across the spread of food in front of him. "Or I throw it up when I can force it down... honestly I don't care all that much anymore," He pulls his head to stare.

Anymore?

Your nail pierces into the strawberry and twisted into the flesh of it. "So you could eat just fine before, right?" You asked before you could stop yourself. You hear him shift as he leaned away from you and propped a hand behind him. He seemed... tired... You could hear the breath he takes as he tried to find the easiest way to explain it.

"I could, I didn't always need to eat..." He began, he didn't need to finish for you- you already knew exactly what he was referring to. "I think my biggest regret is not trying more food when I still had the chance,"

You frown.

"Well... have you tried strawberries before?" You asked as the berry finds itself back between your thumb and finger. He snaps his head back up at you and you can feel his gaze burning into you. You begin to feel worried when he takes a few seconds to speak, until he breaks the silence finally.

"No, actually. My family didn't buy much produce growing up unless we needed it for something specific... and when I was older trying them just didn't cross my mind..." He crossed his legs and finally pulled himself closer to you again. Hands rested on his ankles and scrunched into his jeans. "Flavored shit doesn't count," He added.

Your eyes dart to the fruit and to him.

Offering it to him would feel like a slap to the face, you think.

You pop it into your mouth without much of a second thought.

"It's sweet," You said through the bite.

"I would assume it is, most fruit tends to be that way,"

"It's also a little sour. Not entirely so but it's definitely there in the background,"

The holes of his mask stare into you for a long pause, the gears seem to shift in his head before everything clicks together. Jack gives you a half chuckle, it was more like a huff of air as he lowered his head shaking it. "You don't need to do this, you know. I don't mind you eating in front of me, it doesn't bother me,"

"This doesn't bother me, either."

You look around the options.

"Have you tried honeydew?" You ask as you pierce a piece with one of the forks you've brought along- though the point now seems moot now that you know you'll be the only one eating.

He stares at the chunk as you bring it to his face. You hear him sniff, before pushing the fruit back towards you.

"I've never seen this in my life,"

"You've never seen a honeydew before?" You ask nearly offended. He merely shakes his head no. You give a scoff, a lighthearted one, before shaking your head. "You really did miss out," You teased before crunching into the chunk. Jack didn't respond back, only waiting for you to describe the taste to him.

You turn the piece in your mouth and think it over. It tasted like....

[rokishimizu4]

Signal’s Fast Food Adventure

(I’m gonna be finishing up the BatFam headcannons on my tumblr, then take a small break before starting my actual BatFam story on my AO3, as I’m gonna be starting my new job soon and I need to get it into my routine. Doesn’t mean that I’ll quit posting, but I’ll be posting on my other blog more than on this one.) (Also, Reader is small and has those soul stealing gray/blue eyes, you’re welcome)

To say that Duke was so happy to be stuck on the day shift due to his powers and such would be undermining the sheer wiliness of Tim, who can barley stay awake during meetings on a good day, to replace him for an entire week after the spider incident.

Duke, while facing worse things than a giant spider that wasn’t even gonna hurt anyone, had allowed Tim to join him. Not because he was terrified that Tim would find someway to get him to agree, like putting a fake spider in his bed or something, certainly not.

But he was incredibly thankful when Tim returned to the night shift. Not that his brother was bad at being a daytime bat, but Duke knows that the daytime rouges would appreciate not getting a double dose of roasting from two bats (One bat bringing up mommy issues was enough, thank you)

Plus, the daytime rouges were polite enough not to attack during lunch rush (As the line to any fast food place, not to mention restaurant and gas stations, were packed with already hangry people) and mostly tried to pull off a few bank robberies instead of trying to blow shit up.

Speaking of the lunch rush, Signal sits down on the roof ledge overlooking some of the fast food places/ Restaurants that busy rouges and Gothamites frequently stop to grab a quick bite to eat (That a few tourists go to as well if they’re brave enough), and waits a good half an hour before making his way down once the crowd thins out enough that he could get in and out without being recognized. (Hopefully)

He waits a bit more, until he notices that someone was stepping out of the Batburger and placed a sign out a bit away, then turning back and going back in.

Signal smiles to himself, before dropping down onto the empty sidewalk and casually walking past the sign into the restaurant. (Which reads: Closed for cleaning, this is not an invitation to rob us! Signal is watching!)

The bell rings with the pleasant dings of common dinner bells (not unlike Alfred’s little dinner alarm) as the smell of pure greasy food assaults Signal’s nose as his mouth begins to water and his stomach growls.

“Hey Mr. Signal! Got your order up and ready!” A man back behind the counter calls out with a smile, a gray wife-beater hugs tightly to the man’s chest and eagerly clings to his prosthetic hand/arm and steel plating. The man had a weird Australian/Canadian accent, but the man’s skin reminded Duke of a cup of coffee with either too much milk or too little (depending on the light, he guesses)

Signal just gives the man (who he’s not sure what the guy’s name is as he has no name tag) a smile and a nod. Eagerly taking the bag of four bat burgers and a large fries and setting money on the counter.

He turns to leave, but stops when he accidentally bumps into someone (much smaller than him cause he was almost reaching 6ft).

Cue him looking down into the pouting storm clouds above a flooding river eyes of a very small person, of whom was wearing a knitted purple and turquoise sweater and ripped jeans, and something in his chest flutters like when he first met Damien and won his respect after a brutal patrol.

“Sorry little one. Here, let me help you back up.” Cue Signal reaching up and gently grabbing the kid’s? Hand and starting to help them up, only for his powers to activate mysteriously.

”SHIT CLOSE YOUR EYES!”

Cue Signal running out of the restaurant and back up onto the roof of the tallest building close to the sun.

Cue Signal experiencing a different type of ‘ghost vision’, one were he feels a brief flash of pain of a needle prick, and a taste of chocolate. But, he sees nothing but white, hospital white but different.

Once, the vision is over, he rushes back down to the Bat Burger. However, the person he accidentally ran into was already gone but he swore that he could make out a faint smell of bitter chocolate. (Which was weird as there were nothing made with chocolate in the Bat Burger, not after the Riddler broke the Milkshake and ice cream machines months ago.)

“Hey Mr. Signal, back for a new meal?” The Australian/Canadan man asks as he points down to the ruined bag that was supposed to be Signal’s meal. (Smoking like it got lit on fire and everyone was too lazy to even put it out correctly)

*Biggest dramatic, one full of regrets getting up this morning, sigh* “Yes please.”

(Let me know if you want the reader to be an actual adult, teenager, or a child. Also, I’m like 5’2” but I’m an adult. I feel more and more like I should make the reader a child, so please let me know)

(Also if I should do a Eddie/Venom headcannon too)

[sunny-speaks]

Househusband Harper Headcanons

Hello, hello !! I am going to be redoing some blog design stuff when I WORK UP THE MOTIVATION-- so if the blog name changes, y’all know why!!

Anyway, I've been deep diving for Harper crumbs to accurately write him as one does. (gotta get everything lore accurate, would not be able to live with a too OOC in any of my fictional literature./hj)

AND I KNOW HE WOULD RATHER HAVE YOU BE THE AT-HOME PERSON AND WHATNOT while he works but hear me out… He would be such a good househusband, alright? AUHG- Everything's under the cut, lol.

also Harper is from @campwillowpeak !! I can remove the tag btw, if you don't wanna be tagged in further works ;-;

So maybe the two of you had been married for years. Doesn’t make Harper feel any less happy when you introduce him to people as your husband or when he sees the ring on your hand that he bought for you before you leave the house, it always leaves him with a tingly feeling.

After all, now you’re his. And doesn’t that sound just lovely?

Harper’s got that side job of his to keep the both of you financially stable, as long as you don’t ask too many questions about it.

He doesn’t understand why you need to go work, when the two of you could be comfortable at home from his profits.

Especially when he has more than enough to keep you happy with him!

But if that’s what his partner wants, who is he to deny you?

He’s always anxious to let you leave the house, you’re so magnificent, what if on your way home, some creep tries to hit on you?

He knows you wouldn’t cheat on him and that you can defend yourself, but… but wouldn’t it be safer to just be at home with you?

Or worse, what if one of your coworkers, god forbid your boss, tried to… coerce you into something!

He knows you always wear your wedding ring, and he made sure that it was shiny enough to show people how much he loved you. (Material objects could never dare to show anyone how much he loved you. He loves you sooo much and he knows you love him too !)

But there are a lot of ignorant people out there! 

If you let him, Harper's be more than glad to mark you up, stake his claim so your peers know exactly who you’re married to.

“Cara miaaa,” Your husband looked up at you with wide, pleading, unfaltering eyes, “You said your coworkers were giving you trouble, right?” He’d practiced saying it without violently cursing out your coworkers. You wouldn’t like it if he was mean about them… Even if it was true.

“Unfortunately, yeah. They can’t take a hint, even with this.” You gestured to your wedding ring. “I don’t get how it’s so hard for them to understand I’m a faithful spouse…”

And with that, Harper set his plan into action. “Y’know… we could do something a bit more drastic, if you wish, dear?”

Your eyes glinted with a hint of mischief. “And what would that be, Harp?” You had a vague idea what he was hinting at, but you wanted to hear him say it.

“Mm, just showing them how much I looove you… and maybe biting you.” He muttered the last part to himself, a light flush making its way to his face. He had not prepared too much on how to convince you.

“You mind giving me a little preview?” You sat yourself down on the couch and beckoned him towards you with a finger.

“Not at all, cara mia.”

But there are some pros to being alone when you’re gone!

Harper being your dutiful househusband means he can and will do anything and everything for you !

(And indulge himself in certain activities while you’re gone)

He also has complete control over everything you sleep in, you eat, you wear.

So if you notice some odd stains on your clothes or weird tastes in your food, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about ! Do you not like the food he spent so much time preparing? Or the laundry he did to take a load off your back ?

It’s not his fault he gets so lonely when you’re gone ! It’s just because he misses you so much !

You should just quit your job, you know? It’s so dangerous ! That boss of yours was targeted by an arsonist ! (Because he had the nerve to try and touch you.) Gosh, what if you were next ?! (Harper would never do that to you though… <3)

You should just listen to your husband, he’s so worried for you ! Won’t you pleaaase hear him out?

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

Comfort in a Family Dinner

Summary - Part 58 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure), Andre (OG Character) x Reader (best friends), Garth x Bess, Sam x Eileen

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N: Sorry about the extended break, I ended up needing the week to recover from the trip and meeting J2 (the best weekend of my life FYI). If you ever get lucky enough to get the opportunity to go to a SPN convention, it’s definitely worth it. I loved every minute! But anyway, back to the story at hand…In my mind, the last chapter was gonna be the last one and then this week would be the epilogue. However, I love a good cliffhanger so I couldn’t resist. Looks like we get one more chapter with this lovely couple that I love so much.

While Dean finishes delivering the food to the table you go downstairs with Destiny to get the door. You discreetly check through the peephole in the door before nodding to your little girl and letting her twist the handle. You step back as she pulls the door open. 

“Hi, Uncle Sammy!” She says as she runs over to hug his leg.

He kneels down to her height and pulls her into a tight hug. “Hey Kiddo. You gonna give me a tour of your new home?”

Despite having seen the house when he helped move a few of your larger furnishings over, he hasn’t seen the full house in all its glory. Destiny nods enthusiastically and pulls away, but not before grabbing his hand to lead him upstairs. Sam smiles at you and nods in greeting as he’s pulled past you. You smile back as they disappear up the stairs before turning and locking the door.

Once you get back upstairs, Destiny is showing Sam her room, so you go out to the patio where Dean’s leaning on the railing looking out over the dark forest. You quietly sneak up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He stiffens for a brief second before placing his hands over yours on his stomach. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

“You feel tense, what’s on your mind?”

Dean spins around in your arms so he can wrap his arms around you and look you in the eyes. “Just a lot of changes at once.”

“You regret it?”

He shakes his head and kisses you softly. “Just adjusting. I am gonna miss the adrenaline of a good hunt. But, I’m where I want to be.”

“Once Sam and Eileen get their operation on its feet you’ll get to help them out. And it’s not like you’ll never hunt again. I’m sure the monsters won’t leave us alone forever. I just need you to come home safe. No more dying and being resurrected all the time. This family needs you. So, we just won’t seek it out. Plus, I’m sure we can find other ways for you to burn off your energy and get an adrenaline rush.”

“Yeah? Like?” Dean raises an eyebrow at you as he lets one of his hands wander over your ass cheek and squeezes lightly.

“Hey! You have company! We eating or what?” You hear Sam tease from the doorway.

“We were just waiting for you slowpoke,” Dean jeers back. He kisses you quickly before leading you over to the table and pulling out a chair for you. You smile at him gratefully as you sit down. He takes a seat beside you as Sam and Destiny sit on the opposite side of the table. 

“Nice place you guys got here. I’m really happy for you. You both deserve to get out and get a taste of normal,” Sam says as he fills his plate.

“Thanks, Sam. We’re still raising a little wolf, so I don’t know how normal it is,” you say as you smile at Destiny as she bites into her rare steak. “But we’re happy and it’s progress. We wish you all the best for you and Eileen’s venture too. We’re here, whatever you need.”

“Thanks. We’re still working out all the details. That’s actually why she couldn’t come tonight, she’s meeting with some other hunters with Bobby. We want to make the Men of Letters Bunker back into what it once was; a hub of activity and a safe home base for others who grew up like us.”

“You’re gonna be a great leader, Sammy. If you ever need a soldier…” Dean adds with his mouthful, “But you have to promise that none of you hunter buddies, or hunters in training will know about or come after our little monster here. Whatever happens, we will handle it ourselves, as a family.” Dean gives you a stern look to make sure you understand his threat and agree.

You nod before giving Destiny a reassuring smile. Sam nods too. “If you’re still planning to go ahead with that appointment in a few weeks, then I guess this is the only niece I’m gonna get. So, I won’t let anything bad happen to her. You have my word. Family comes first, you taught me that. And family don’t end in blood.”

A comfortable quiet falls over the table as you all eat in peace, having got the few concerns out in the open.

Once you’re all finished eating, Sam helps Dean in the kitchen so they can talk alone while you get Destiny washed up and tucked into bed. Despite her desperate pleas to stay up with you guys, you stay firm by bedtime. Werewolf or not, she’s a child and you plan to raise her as such. You kiss her forehead and switch on the nightlight by her bed before switching off the overhead light and closing the door. 

Back in the living room, Sam and Dean finish up cleaning the kitchen just as you come back to join them. Dean pulls you into his embrace the second you're close enough and kisses the top of your head. “She go down easy?”

“Nope, definitely tried her best debate skills. But it’s been a big day and she’s tired, it won’t take long.”

“Well, I’ll let you guys relax from your big day. Thanks for dinner,” Sam says.

“Anytime,” you say.

“Call first,” Dean adds as a warning.

“Of course. Have a good night guys, we’ll be in touch I’m sure.”

“You too, Sam. Try not to get too lonely in that big Bunker alone,” you say.

“I’ll be okay. Thanks.”

You and Dean walk him to the door and wait until his car disappears into the darkness before retreating back inside and locking the door behind you.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Dean says with his arm wrapped around your waist as he leads you back upstairs.

“Let’s take a bath first,” you counter.

Dean raises his eyebrow, “Or…We could try out the hot tub?”

“Sounds good to me.” You lean up to peck his cheek.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

A/N: Another shorter one to end us off. Let me know if you want an epilogue next week. I hope you’ve all enjoyed reading this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it. 

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican, @fallenlilangel99, @heavenlyhopeful0, @nelachu2423, @ladysparkles78, @canyouimaginethatstory, @mrlonelycat, @roseblue373, @staley83

[narabea06]

* Peaks head around corner *

Gimme Toby HCs?

Hmmmmm I think I can do that- *pulls out giant book of headcanons* They should be under T, I believe-

Toby Headcanons Part 2!!

Here's part 1 if you want to read more of my Toby headcanons to understand my AU a bit more

TW: Implied Su!c!dal Ideation, Alcohol

Him and Nina are best friends, and have been since highschool. His disappearance was the first among the friend group before Clockwork's, and was what pushed Nina to isolate herself. They are both reunited now, and Toby believes it's his fault Nina ended up wrongfully joining Jeff, but Nina keeps telling them that it isn't.

Halloween is actually his favorite holiday.

Back when he was a proxy, him, Cody, and Clockwork were all very close. Cody often would tease Toby for having a soft spot for Clockwork, like a little brother would. Like an older brother would, Toby would hide Cody's shit as payback.

When Clockwork first met Toby, she instinctively attacked him until the other proxies ran over and told her to stop. Toby was petty about this for months until Clockwork apologized.

Toby hates himself, and has been trying to cope with that since he was 12. He doesn't believe he deserves a happy ending or good friends, or a loving partner, or a good brother and sister, but he has somewhat come to accept that he can't bear the lose everything that he has left right now, and does not want to give up what little he actually is happy about in his life for once.

He only say a few things still from when he was a kid, one of them being Lyra's old lanyard she used to hang from her belt. He now wears around his neck constantly, and hangs his apartment keys on it. Sometimes he even jingles it as a stim.

Toby hates the smell and taste of alcohol, and will actively leave a room if someone is drinking it in the same room as him.

They aren't too big on being called nicknames besides Toby, and the only two he is actually fine with are "babe" and "cinnamon", and only Clockwork is allowed to call him those.

Toby tends to bite at his nails a lot and often does not even realize when to stop since he can't feel it.

His love language is acts of service and words of affirmation.

He's the kind of person to give you an awkward thumbs up and just say "that's cool" if you came out to him.

Slenderman was actually considered an urban legend in their town, like like Bloody Mary and Sirenhead, so when Toby told people that he was seeing Slenderman everywhere, nobody believed him, other than some conspiracy theorists.

He is actually rather short (5'2"), especially in comparison to the other proxies. The only proxy who was shorter than him was Cody, and Cody is three years younger.

Toby is an Atheist.

Toby was never really a great traditional artist, but does find painting relaxing, and sometimes will paint as a form of art therapy. He even has a small portfolio full of random art pieces that make sense to nobody else but him, and he's okay with that, so those paintings weren't for anyone but him.

Cody will sometimes randomly take pictures with Toby when they least expect it using one of Skully's old cameras, or with Toby just in the background, mostly because Toby hates being in photos and will sometimes purposefully hide their face from the camera, or will take the camera beforee Cody cab take the picture.

They do not know how to tie a knot, and therefore doesn't know how to tie sneakers, even as an adult, and now they feel too embarrassed to ask for somebody to show them.

Breakfast food in general is a small comfort for them since Connie would often make him and Lyra breakfast for dinner on the nights she saw they were particularly down. Toby tries his best to recreate Connie's cooking, but keeps not making it right, and ends up having to throw it away because his food sensory issues physically won't let him eat it if it's not exactly the way she used to make it.

He doesn't have a phone, though he has been working towards getting one, but is scared that Slender will somehow track him through it or something.

He listens to cavetown.

Toby can hold his breath for a surprisingly long time, and almost even joined the swim team in highschool.

He was terrified of cats as a kid, and refused to get one or be near one. Toby has been trying to work on his fear though now that he's an adult, and even sometimes leaves food outside his window for the stray cats in the neighborhood.

Toby steals dice from every board game he plays just so he can have a tiny dice bag in his backpack to make little click-clack noises when he shakes it.

He read Percy Jackson in middle school, and sometimes studies Greek mythology.

[a-v-j]

He couldnt be THIS happy

Akills and Hryxy

Content warning:

yandere fever, bad puns, emotional conflict(but not as bad like with averse), dick mention, character aware of going OOC, panic attack, emotional outburst, knives, bit of self-harm, character believing they dont deserve a happy ending, hryxy doesnt know what to do but he's trying his best, hurt/comfort, author speaks/side comments, not really a polish fic so format can be a bit wonky

Written by @nyxus-nyx and me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Akills=Italic

Hryxy=Bold

Previously(suggestive warning)

Akills decided to chill here after his strenuous activity 🚬

Hryxy appears behind Akills and stares down at him. His body was still half morphed beast as his tail dragged on the ground making scrapping sounds.

Akills flicks the cigarette and stomps on it

"not having a good day too, big guy"

He says so from his sitting position

(shiiiit i forgot Hryxy's in yandere-)

"Shit…." He hissed st himself

Hryxy just stared as he crouched down to Akills and tilted his head. His tail swaying more.

"i cant really tell if youre happy to see me or if youre plotting my demise already inside your head"

He deadpanned, staring back into hyrxy, trying to read something behind those eyes

”no.”

He fully sat, as his tail twitched and stopped fully. His eyes fixated on akills.

He cant really read hyrxy right now. Mild confusion etched to akills' face as he raised a brow

"…"

"Then what's in your mind, big guy"

”You..”

His tail began to sway and drag again, his mouth twitches. His claws flex a bit in the sweater pockets. The empty eyesocket continues to stare.

Akills tsk-ed and leans back.

"Well i hope it's not about chewing me. M'not in the mood"

Casually recalling how the thing with lavendar the first time he did it again after a long while. Doesn't mean much to him though, but boy it did left his body a little bit sore

"…"

"Ya gonna keep staring at me or …?"

Hryxy shook his head as he grabbed Akills and pull him onto his lap. His tail wraps around him along with his arms as his bodu warms up. Slowly releasing pain relief and healin magic.

“Tired.”

Akills tensed as he was randomly picked up and squished against Hryxy. He loosened up, feeling the other's healing magic

"Hey- didnt asked for this, just to let you know"

He stated as if he's gonna pull away but made no attempt to

Hryxy chuckled as his body slowly went to normal. He held onto Akills.

“Dont have to ask.. i already know.”

He sighed restin his head on Akills.

"well youre awfully touchy than usual"

He says, pretending to not know hyryxy is having some yandere fever going on

"Is there something you want from me?"

”No.”

He just sighed and held em. He grumbled.

“I know you, you know of this damn.. fever.”

Akills chuckled dryly

"Dont look at me, nobody knows what fixes that crap"

Akills took a long while to realized that this had probably the longest he's being touched that doesn't involve being chewed, pinned or generally in a pain inducing situation and it actually feels…nice? Gosh it's been so long

”Do you.. like dark chocolate?”

He mumbled as he reaches into his own shorts pockets searching for soemthing. He grumbles struggling to find the soemthing.

"heh, i dont really desire food anymore"

Akills says as he's being slightly juggled around in Hryxy's attempt to search something in his pocket

"And i doubt whatever you're finding is even actual chocolate-"

”Surprisingly it is.”

He chuckled as he pulled it out. He pulled infront of them both and opens it.

“Im not a monster without taste.”

"that's a first. I assumed youre gonna pull out some pieces of brains and call it chocolate"

”Haha.. cant blame ya for that..”

He breaks it in half and offers it to Akills. He didnt care if he couldnt feel the need or cant eat. He has his own reasons why hes offering it.

“Its a bit salty sense i was in a rush gettin it.. was trying to get the sweeter one..”

Akills accepts it and takes a bite, a huge one

"Not complaining, it's a nice gesture coming from you, might as well do the same"

”Mm..”

He bites his half almost biting it all off.

“If you dont want the things i give or do.. tell me.”

"heh"

He rolled his eyes, as he gobbled up the last bite of his chocolate

"I'll let you know"

He finished the bite and ate the rest, his arm going back around Akills.

He rested his head back on Akills. He closed his eye sighing contently.

“Your body temperature mixes from cold and hot.. its funny..”

"what can i say, im all bones and no meat"

Akills sighed humorously, getting a bit comfortable being in the others embrace

He chuckled.

“Makes sense, your a skeleton. If so, id have to pick a Bone with you.. would try to eat it.”

He smiles a lil, his teeth hidden by his curved lips.

“Im bad at puns.. its been years..”

"real humerus, bud"

"Really tickled my funny bone"

He genuinely chuckled to himself this time, he internally thought for himself, he's not been joke-y since. It's quite nostalgic to simply humour around

"It's been years for me too"

He nods and his arms wrapped around more. Similar to a bear.

“Tell me soemthin interesting sbout you..”

His voice almost sounded as a purr as he closed his eye.

Akills almost on reflex attempted to friendly tap Hryxy for getting a bit tight there but he just lets him

"Well…besides having an expressive dick and absolutely charming- wait, am i really developing a personality right now?"

He chuckles to himself, with feelings this time. It's funny

"Im feeling funny"

It's like his old self is stirring back to him but he couldn't care, it feels nice. He usually wouldn't be caught dead having his old self back but this one feels like there's none of the bad things, he feels the him who was happy. Happy WITH someone

"Hehe, im feeling really out of character right now"

”Ha. Maybe your being developed..”

He loosens his arms for him more, he twitches a lil as his chest begans to itch.

Akills made Hryxy's arm stay in place

"Dont even think about it, big guy"

””Sorry. Sorry.”

His smile twitches as his body begans to itch. These feelings are weird. But he grins wider.

"hehe, i know right. It's weird and fluffy. It's so gay, haha"

He gives a friendly pat on the other's arm. A vision of just giving hryxy some belly rub crossed his mind but he knows better to think that's one hell of an idea

He laughed as he leaned back some, trying to rub his back on something.

“Makes you think this is a dream..”

Akills twitched as a foul memory flashed before him, setting him to haphazardly pry himself out of Hryxy's arms. Reality is sinking itself and he knows damn well he was in this situation before. What if it IS a dream.

This is too good to be true

He couldn't be THIS happy. Especially with SOMEONE.

What a joke

Akills scurried away from Hryxy. He shook, his hand gripping on his shirt as he tries to get himself back to calm. He looks like he's about to have a panic attack and shoot out his knives out of sheer anger at these…"feelings"

Hryxy just sat there his arms to his sides.

“Do you need to stab somethin.?”

He didnt feel like tackling or makin him more upset.

Akills did not respond but his hands started to shake more and glowed.

After a split second, a sonic boom kind of wave emanated from him and around him was a dangerous amount of knives, more than his magic supply could summon. He heavily breathes thru his mouth as he shakenly shut them tight in a grit. His face pure of hate and anger, his eyelight narrowed as he began throwing all his attacks everywhere where Hryxy isnt.

Dust and debris flew to the air as his attacks penetrated the ground with so much force, the sound almost felt like explosions as it continues to rain knives.

As the dust subsides, there alone akills barely standing. It appears that he cut against himself as well. He was trembling to stay standing.

He has his back still at Hryxy. He slowly turn, face void of any emotions but with almost dried streaks of tears barely visible against the stain on his face.

"… it's fine now.."

He monotoned

He tried to walk back to Hryxy, he barely made it as he collapsed

Hryxy quickly caught him and sighed, he looked down at Akills. His face full of confusion and worry.

“The more ypu do that.. the more im most likely going to tackle you.”

Hryxy huffed and sat Akills back on his lap and started to take off his hoodie.(Not Akills' l o l)

Akills seems to response back in a form of a groan. Being the weakest of autos when it comes to magic, his energy consuming attack earlier completely drained him, and he's unable to heal himself of the multiple cuts he brought upon himself. He's rendered immovable.

Hryxy puts the hoodie on Akills and he goes back to the bear hug and starts to heal him.

“Would be funny if a knife hit me in the face.”

He chuckled

If only akills have some energy left in him, he gladly would without hesitation. But right now, he's helpless, vulnerable, and weak. Might take a while for him to deliver Hryxy's request. Right now he has to heal

”Wanna know something funny. I cant die unless my soul is crushed.”

He stared at the endless abyss of this room. He just kept healing Akills.

“Can’t feel pain unless is afflicted on my soul.”

Hryxy was only met with the sounds of akills' breathing but it gives off a sense that the smaller skeleton is listening, he felt more relaxed now

”I don’t think the fever.. affects me much. Im still me just more.. clingy i should say.”

He shrugged his claws twitch and his chest itched. He only wore a white bloodied tangtop.

“I talk to much..”

It's interesting enough to know hryxy is able to bounce back from the effects of the fever. In fairness, it's only worse at the beginning and in the end, but he seems to do well managing the middle part of the process. Akills' tried to open his socket with little energy he has, he wants the other to know he's listening still

Hryxy leaned back abit, giving Akills some kind of space. Hryxy ruffles his hair and rubbed his temples. Itching at chest now sense has room now.

“God.. fuckin.. damnit.”

A hand quickly but sluggishly placed itself on Hryxy's claws that's scratching his chest, Akills' had his socket closed again but a small frown form itself on his mouth

Hryxy froze his head looked down at Akills hand. His chest began to itch more then ever before. His claw twitches under the others hand.

“What..”

Akills' response was nothing but silence, his mouth twitches as if trying to say something but it feels like he's having sleep paralysis. What will hryxy be doing next?

Hryxy begins to salivate and looks away, he grits his teeth. Scratching helps him not feel this weird things in his body. It keeps him from lashing out almost to what akills does but less cool. He laughed to himself but it turned into a growl.

“Can.. you scratch it.. if i cant..”

"…"

Akills' hand that's trying to stop the claw felt lighter, indicating the small skeleton is letting him do what he must. Remembering how the scratching could only mean that some nasty thing will happen, he just felt a bit… concerned with his own situation. He's very prone to the whatever may result if the bigger guy keeps on scratching

He scratches it but not as rough. His body is aching, but he used more of his magic to heal Akills.

“You remind me of a cat sometimes haha..”

He licks his teeth from the drool.

Akills brows slightly bunched together, seemingly disagreeing to Hryxy's statement. He was able to open his eye slightly and for a split second, one can see his eyelight was looking directly at the halfbreed before closing again

”Cats are cute yet dangerous. Could claw your eyes out.”

He humed as he slowly drifts into past memories. The flowers. The names. Mother..

He twitched clenching his claw into a fist.

“Fun times..”

If there's two things akills hate in the world, it'd be being called cute and being compared to a cat, he hates cats.

"…"

He tried to move his hand that was still somewhere on Hryxy, in an attempt to get the other to relax a bit after sensing some tension from the other from recalling past memories

Hryxy caught Akills hand and kept it there. His body begins to shift and goes into beast mode, his body holding akills like a dragon with its eggs. He grumbled not wanting Akills to leave yet.

It's not like akills can move at the moment anyway.

akills tried to crack his sockets open to let hryxy know he's still damn awake, and he's able to open em a little and and a bit longer.

Hryxy rests his head on Akills lap and sighed and his red eyelight closes. His body warming up more. The hesling magic increases along with pain soothinf magic.

Akills' finger twitched in an attempt to start moving any of his limbs. He was able to sloppily move his hand to be place on top of Hryxy's head but it kinda smacked the other's face on the way, but it made it's way to the place akills want it to be.

Hryxy didnt mind the small hit but he soon leaned into the others touch. His horns and some waht spikey ears bend back a bit. Liking the others touch.

Akills sighed in content, feeling a lot better. He blinks a couple time and looks down at Hryxy on his lap, brushing his thumb on the other's soft furred head. He eventually was able to fully stroke it, his finger softly combs thru the other fur. He wiggled his feet and toes a bit and made a small stretch, glad to finally able to move. He goes back to relaxing and a nap feels like a very good idea right now. He kept stroking Hryxy's head as he slowly closes his sockets.

The End :D

Next

[nerdysleepybunny]

hello. I just want to say that your tpn fics cure my depression. thank you very much. may I request a norman x reader where reader is basically nezuko. she's a demon she has the pink eyes and everything. and one day she snapped into her final form when isabella found out they were gonna escape and attacked norman:

(p.s I know that they are children so if you want ignore this request or age up the characters or you can cover up her chest all up to you😊)

and she lost control and nearly killed isabella but norman(for whatever reason im not really sure) protected isabella because he knows reader would never do such thing like kill isabella. then reader snapped out of it and started crying and apologizing to norman like when in the show nezuko cried when she remembered her mother:

thank you so much. I love your fics. like I said before you can completely ignore this if you're uncomfortable with it or you just don't want to do it at all. sincerely, an acquaintance. 😌

Ah, back when I went by Shroom 🥲 Apologies for getting to both of these so late, and I hope you don't mind me combining the asks!

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

Fandom(s): The Promised Neverland

Character(s): Norman (ft. Isabella)

Reader: Gender neutral (they/you)

TW: Panic attack, attempted murder, puking, slight gore

Style: Hcs

Summary: you're a half demon child, brought into the "orphanage" to be used as a tool.

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

You were a demon, but your true identity was masked by all of your human qualities

The only thing that gave you away were your pink eyes, which is how Isabella figured out you weren't a normal child when she examined you after you were found crying in a basket near the gate, luckily before you stavred

But the children, with their active imaginations, just assumed that you were unique

Isabella quickly learned that she'd need to properly manipulate and shape you in order to contain you

The biggest issue was your hunger. It could be satiated by human food, but only for so long. So you'd eat with the rest of the children until a new batch of newborns arrived. Isabella would choose one to feed you. But of course, she didn't want you knowing that you were a demon that needed to eat humans. So she'd cook the meat and throw away the rest, and tell the rest of the children that you needed "special meat.

The unknowing children often complained about your special treatment, and you could only laugh, being none the wiser. If only you knew the truth.

As you grew up, you grew closest to Norman, who never judged you for your differences.

He also liked you due to how good you were at hide and seek. You were the only person he genuinely struggled to find

He knew that you were faster than all the others, but everyone assumed that it was just that. You were fast. But in reality, it was due to your demon species.

And due to your exceptional hearing, you could easily hear when Norman was approaching, and knew just how to avoid him.

This also came in handy for tests. With better hearing, it was easier for you to obtain information. You easily climbed to the top, joining the fullscore trio. You may not be entirely as intelligent, but at least you were pardoned from being shipped out. Sort of. Isabella was still figuring out what to do with you when you came of age.

And come of age you did

The trio didn't want to keep you in the dark

You learned the secret, every last detail. And at first, you assumed that that was all there was to it. But then dinner came around.

The special meat.

You took a bite. It tasted good. But it just didn't go down right when you thought of those dead children, being fed to demons...

Oh god

Were you a demon?

You took a second bite, but it didn't take long for it to come back up

You didn't even have time to excuse yourself from the table. You got up and rushed to the nearest bathroom as fast as you could, leaving the other children confused. And Isabella suspicious.

"Mommy, what happened?"

"Let me go see."

Isabella excused herself politely from the table and calmly followed the direction you went in, walking past door after door until she reached an occupied bathroom. She stood there and listened to the gagging that came from the other side of the door.

She heard the toilet flush, the ripping of a paper towel, shuffling... and then the door opened.

You had been too focused on the feeling of sickness that you were completely caught off guard by the sudden sight of Isabella on the other side of the door. She quickly grabbed you. Too quickly. Her touch was firm to keep you from moving, but perfected to be gentle. Motherly.

The way she looked into your eyes was like a warning. She knew that you knew. But it was masked by a look of concern.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mom..."

"Why don't you come down and finish your dinner?"

"No-! No... thank you."

Isabella gave you a look. One you couldn't quite read, but you knew she wasn't happy. Then she smiled. You could now see how fake it was.

"Okay... you're sick. Go rest."

It was more of a command than a suggestion.

Stay in your room and keep your mouth shut.

And you did in fact have your own room, another reason for the other children to be jealous of you. It was to keep you separate from the others in case you suddenly became hungry

You obeyed, glad to be away from that horrid meat. But you couldn't stop thinking about the other children still down there with that awful woman. The woman who willingly kills her own children. Maybe not directly, but she allows it. And she was just as disgusting as those demons

But by hating the demons, were you also hating yourself? Who even were you?

Stuck with nothing but your thoughts, you spiraled

You learned to put up a facade, but your thoughts never ceased.

Not when you and the trio discovered more and more about the secret

Not when you and the trio conjured up a plan of escape

Not when everyone was training

And especially not when Isabella checkmated all four of you.

Norman was being shipped out.

The only person who's always been there for you

Despite your differences

Despite you possibly being a demon

You don't know what came over you. Everything just suddenly turned red

You were vaguely aware of the fact that you had lunged at Isabella. That you were on top of her. That your sharper-than-normal teeth were currently digging into her shoulder.

It's been so long since you've had meat. You could barely even hear her screams

Norman didn't know what to feel as he watched you. Or what used to be you. You looked different now. You were... eating. The woman he considered his mother. As awful as she was, he didn't want her to die. And he knew that deep down, you didn't either.

Reality suddenly returned when you felt hands on you, tugging you off of a bleeding Isabella. You froze as you stared at what you've done. The damage wasn't lethal, but you sunk your teeth pretty deep into the skin that connected her neck and shoulder. It would take a while to fully heal.

You turned your head towards Norman, the two of you simply staring at each other for a moment.

You, seeing your best friend staring at you with a fearful expression despite holding you in his arms

And him staring right back, seeing your lips dripping in blood and your look of remorse.

All you could do was burst into tears, and all Norman could do was hold you closer.

You screamed and sobbed, letting out all of the pain you've been feeling since you first learned the truth of this awful place.

And Isabella realized something as she watched.

She was putting her children in pain.

This is how far they'd go to leave this place, to avenge their lost siblings.

And Isabella began to think of a plan of her own...

🩷☁️N E R D Y S L E E P Y B U N N Y☁️🩷

[hetastates]

Western Wednesday except posted on a Thursday

How each (Western) state acts when they get the wrong order at the drive through.

Alaska: Pretty sure this guy sources a lot of the food that is served in the drive through to begin with. Despite this, that doesn’t actually have any effect on how he behaves when he clearly ordered an elk burger and you give him a Fillet o Fish. This isn’t even a McDonald's — how and WHY are they giving him a Fillet o Fish? Now, let’s be real here, being that far up North will mess anybody up, and being that far away from the rest of your country means that a lot of hatred and Karenage is stored up and bottled inside oneself. And that’s exactly what Alaska does — he just grumbles and drive away, possibly while the food is still in the employee's hand. Will he say or do anything about it? No. Will he write a one star review on Yelp? Also no. You’d best believe that he’ll hold that grudge forever — and probably mutter something about this is why he doesn’t go to fast food places.

California: People may think that just because she’s rich means she doesn’t really work hard, but this is not the case. When she’s not actively on set, she works in various state parks. She loves animals. This job is very laborious, and when Cali gets off work, she’s famished. Oftentimes she’s too tired to really correct an employee if they pen down the wrong order. It doesn’t stop there, though — of course it doesn’t. California is vocal. California is loud. She will devour the entire wrong meal, not even once questioning how she was served a Fillet o Fish when it clearly is not McDonald’s, and then, after the very last bite, after she’s licked her fingers clean, she will go up to the register and unleash the wrath of a thousand grizzlies about how this was NOT her order. "But you ate the whole thing" has no gravity in this situation. Do you know who California is?! Yeah, she’s annoying, okay, she’ll give you that, but will you be able to function without California? Don’t mess with California. She’s larger than life. And you? You’re just an incompetent speck of dust who gave her a FILLET O FISH!

Colorado: Dude, does he even notice? Pretty sure that altitude sickness got to him. He didn’t even drive himself here. No, he got an Uber. He doesn’t even question the fact that he went to a drive through vegan bakery and they sold him a Fillet o Fish that was purple. He can hardly taste the difference. Despite the way Colorado behaves, he is completely sober, but living on the mountains for so long, well, he’s, by default, high. This is some good food, though. Would you like a free coupon? He collects coupons for things he'll never use. It’s his love language, and he loves you so much. You’re so awesome, did you know that? You’re, like, a star. You’re, like, Vega.

Hawaii: Hawaii is the epitome of someone who is sensible and a normal human being. She knows how to party — oh, she KNOWS HOW to party — but in day to day interactions she is the person we all should be but no one actually is. She is the one who says, "Oh, excuse me but I think you mixed up my order" and she waits there calmly for the issue to be sorted out. How did Hawaii ever get so normal? No wonder she’s slowly drifting away from the chaos empire, a few inches annually.

Idaho: Like Hawaii, Idaho is chill. Idaho's a farmer. Idaho honestly doesn’t have the energy to complain. All food is good food, after all. She’ll eat whatever is given to her. She came here specifically so that she didn’t have to cook tonight — she doesn’t care WHAT you give her. Yeah, so she ordered Mountain Dew but you COULD give her dirty mop water. She won’t complain. Unless. Unless you give her a potato meal. Do you think this is funny? Like some kind of joke? Ha, ha, Idaho is a potato farmer, VERY funny, HILARIOUS, BRAVO, do you realise how you come across when you do that? You know, wise guy, BACK IN HER DAY when people made a stupid practical joke—

Montana: It depends on the nature of the mix up. If what she ordered was more expensive than what she got, she'll go up to the front, stern but not impolite, and fix the mistake. She'll circle that Toyota Tundra into the parking lot and walk into the store and wait. However, this does not apply if she’s getting a discount. Did she pay for chicken nuggets and receive a whole rack of baby back ribs? Well dang, guess it’s her lucky day or something! Maybe she should try the lottery! In the long run, Montana doesn’t care all too much about her food — as long as it’s filling and not made of pure sugar, she’ll be happy. Montana is in it for the money. And she goes out once in awhile so that people stop making fun of how cheap she is. She’s not cheap, dang it, she’s frugal!

Nevada: Nevada is strange. When it’s just him, he’s a very chill guy. When it’s him and literally anyone else, whether it be him and a girlfriend, him and a coworker, him and the guy across the street, he can get really uptight and confrontational in an attempt to impress and to come across as something of a macho man. His love for music, geekiness for cinema, and green thumb (as well as his ability to survive 290 days in the desert on a vegan diet — he would never back down from a dare) are really what make him macho and manly, but for some odd reason Nevada thinks that people will be completely wowed if he screams in a fast food worker's face about how he got the 6 pack and not the 4 pack and how he wanted HONEY MUSTARD WITH HIS CHICKEN NUGGIES >:(. It’s like he’s a completely different person when others are around.

Oregon: …. …. … If you don’t understand why he’s sitting there glaring at you as if he’s trying to activate some magical eyeball lasers to completely disintegrate you, then eventually he’ll just drive away, still coldly staring at you through the side mirror of his car. Oregon has a weird way of expressing his emotions which, for the most part, involves menacing stares. He looks like a guy who thinks he’s in an emotional music video but in reality he just looks like Hannibal Lecter got caught drunk driving during a downpour and doesn’t know how to operate his windshield wipers.

Utah: She doesn’t even tell employees that they mixed up her order; she just asks to confirm the ingredients in the wrong order are okay for her to eat. If she wants chicken nuggets and she’s given a Fillet o Fish, she’ll double check to make sure it was made in non-alcoholic batter and that it doesn’t contain caffeine. She could just say "Excuse me, I think you gave me the wrong order, I ordered chicken nuggets" and it would probably be faster and less burdensome than what she actually does. She doesn’t want to come across as mean — and she doesn’t. She comes across as paranoid.

Washington: WASHINGTON is the kind of guy that would go full Karen at a fast food restaurant. He would pound on the drive thru window — in fact, he would climb through it, get stuck, and require police and fire services to pull him out. He’s done this on multiple occasions. No one is quite sure what goes on in Washington for a man to behave like this, but this man clearly ordered a six piece chicken nugget meal. The amount of bad reviews this guy has given is astronomical — and these are long and detailed, too. Washington doesn’t speak to the manager. Ironically, even the mention of a manager is enough to send him running. He just wants his nuggets, man. Why’d you do him dirty like this?

Wyoming: Another sensible being (rare to find on this planet earth), like Hawaii, Wyoming doesn’t really ever want to cause a scene. She prioritises her time above all, and returning a mixed up order would just be a pain in the rear that she doesn’t want to deal with. Something about the bureaucracy and the red tape — at KFC. Whatever that means. She'll glance at her order, knowing very well that this is not what she wanted, and begrudgingly mutter, "Okay, whatever" before leaving. Whether or not she'll be back is debatable. Wyoming does not like to make a big deal out of things. In fact, one of the things that angers her most is when others make a big deal out of things. Anything that can be okay whatevered SHOULD be okay whatevered.

[cyandelightz]

1,2,12

1. how long are their nails? do they paint them?

I actually just described this in a thread with Giselle - they're kept as short and clean as possible, and he does in fact paint them when he gets the chance. Usually red, sometimes black... could see pink or sparkly in the (distant) future if character development pans out. He keeps them very clean and neat, and doesn't bite them, specifically because he's seen how an infected hangnail in an environment like Olathe can actually cost you an arm. A number of his underlings back home are missing arms - and one of those guys simply lost it to infection rather than as a punishment, which is the typical reason for a Joy Boy to be missing an arm. Buzzo is trained in lab safety and cleanliness, so he enforced a nail-trimming and handwashing mandate after that event. The boys figured he was just annoyed that the event didn't really allow him any sadistic pleasure, given it was a medically necessary amputation.

2. what is their hair texture? do they take good care of it, if they have any?

I've seen depictions of it as being straight and depictions of it as being curly. I'm gonna split it down the middle and say he has wavy hair - which can often look like frizzy straight hair if it's not properly taken care of. Which, it's not, in his case. It's usually stuffed under a helmet and prone to getting logged with sweat under the baking sun. Fresh water, especially enough to bathe in, is a luxury, as are decent toiletries. And as a very utilitarian person, he's never put much effort into his appearance outside of very easy things (like painted nails or putting on lipstick or putting on a certain outfit) on a whim.

He's also prematurely balding and has a FIERCE widow's peak. He'd likely cover it with a hat if he didn't have his helmet. It provokes some mild, subdued self-consciousness to think about.

12. do they have any sensitivities to tastes?

Oh boy, I have a lot of words to say on this one! The answer boils down to "no, and if he did he'd deny it".

Buzzo has never been one to eat for pleasure or taste. Not since Lisa died, anyway - back in the day he'd spend her allowance on graham crackers, marshmallows, candy, or fast food for her, since she was neglected by her father and he wanted to do what he could for her.

Since her death, though, he would just eat whatever was put in front of him as a kid without complaint. And as an adult pre-flash, he would eat pretty much just, meal-prepped chicken breast and broccoli without any particular seasoning or sauce, and then spend his weekends drinking beer alone in his apartment. The point was to maximize protein intake so he'd look good (in the vain hopes of attracting a female companion - but he doesn't socialize often, and he also gave himself a beer gut, so...)

There was a little bit of culinary joy in his life pre-flash, though. What he'd do is on Sundays, he'd take a pre-made, ready-to-bake pie crust from the store (he definitely can't make a pie crust from scratch), fill it with whatever fruit was cheap or in season at the time (typically apples, but he's also done peach, pear, and even persimmon) plus a little sugar, and he'd have that for breakfast every morning before work each day.

That being said, he actively identifies as NOT a picky eater. He'll eat anything edible without complaint and needle other people for being picky, which he thinks of as being immature and childish.

If he were to start eating for pleasure, I could see him being very adventurous in terms of like... say, weird types of cheese.

...However, I think this guy has zero spice tolerance. You hand him a hot wing and he immediately gets incinerated.

[base0h]

Hi Evou-san! You grew so much since I last saw you and you are so active here!!! I'm so happy!

Can I please request a little scenario of Killer and his crewmate / ")crush talking about different kinds of pasta? I just saw a video about carbonara (type of sauce) and all I can think about is making it for Killer, the supreme pasta lover.

Sorry for the long ask, have a good time!! Byeeeeeee.

a/n - Hi hi Kero!! Awww tysm, I’m so happy you always read my killer things 🥺🥺💜💜 omg. Pasta man. YES. I just ate some pasta so it’s perfect 👀

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, fluff, chef reader

Simple love <3

Sitting in front of you was a neatly plated serving of carbonara. It was one of your favorite dishes to both eat and make. Despite its simplicity, it remained one of your most precious recipes in your book. You took your fork and started to neatly twirl a bite of the noodles onto the fork, raising it to your mouth and blowing gently. When you tasted it, it was still the same nostalgic taste you’ve remembered since your childhood. It made you so happy when you got to eat it and daydream about past memories. You were snapped out of your daze when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs towards the kitchen where you sat at the counter. You peered your head to the side, trying to get a better look at who was approaching. When they appeared in the doorway, accidentally bonking their forehead on the wooden beam, a metallic noise resonated from impact. You sighed with a small hint of relief, for a second you thought it might’ve been an enemy. You then snickered when you saw who it was, there wasn’t anyone else who’d do that except for one person you knew. “Killer!” You said with a kind smile, continuing to eat your pasta with a happy atmosphere around you. “Hi.. Y/n, is that pasta?” He asked curiously, walking over towards you and peeking over your shoulder. “Mhm, carbonara.” You said, covering your mouth half full with food. Underneath his mask, Killer looked nervous and anxious, he was so embarrassed to say exactly why he came down here. The reason was just- kind of stupid to him. “Did you need something?” You asked, managing to swallow your food quickly. Killer stayed silent for a couple seconds, his helmet hiding most of his thoughts being displayed on his face. “Yeah. I smelled.. Pasta.. so that’s why I came down here- nevermind.” He replied quickly, trying to dismiss his broken explanation.

Your eyes widened, “Killer! Do you like pasta too???” You asked with excited eyes, standing up and smiling up at him, your face inches away from his. Killer was slightly blushing underneath his mask, but he bent backwards awkwardly, “I like pasta, yeah..” He replied quietly, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. Wasn’t it kind of- weird that Killer, THE Killer of the Kid pirates was a huge fan of pasta-?? And specifically the one you made? So much so that he could smell it from on deck..? “That’s so cool! Wait here I’m going to make some more for you, you must be hungry anyways right?” You asked, hurriedly grabbing another pot from the cabinet. You gathered all of the ingredients, quickly putting them each on the counter. He was surprised by your actions, he just expected you to laugh, just like how the rest of them would.. But no, you called his love for pasta- “cool”. Killer silently observed from the side, watching the determined look on your face. He smiled softly, he appreciated the fact that you were going out of your way, making pasta for him. “Here, I’ll show you how to make it so you don’t always need me to make it. Then you can have it whenever you feel like it.” You said with a bright smile, beckoning for him to watch you. He stood behind you, bending over from behind, peeking over your shoulder. You salted the water in the pot, bringing it to a boil before dropping in some of the leftover homemade pasta you made from before. You put a lid on the pot, and set a timer for 6 minutes. “Ok, now you grate the cheese, about 1/3 cup. Then add the two eggs, make sure they’re room temp! I still dunno why they have to be that way but it just tastes better- and then..” You explained to him, trying to help him crack the eggs without breaking them completely. His large and strong hands fumbled with the eggs, struggling to crack one without completely shattering it… He must’ve gone through five different eggs before he finally was able to crack one of the eggs. You clapped your hands together excitedly, like a fan cheering on an idol. “Yay! There ya go!” You said happily. Killer smiled, he felt so happy in these moments with you. He never thought that making pasta with someone could be this wonderful. “Now you have to mix it all together like this.” You demonstrated for him, mixing the sauce of the carbonara together in a metallic bowl. You carefully handed it to Killer for him to try as well, and he gently started to mix in circles. At one point, some of the sauce accidentally splattered onto the side of his mask. “Oops- lemme get that for you.” You said, reaching up towards his mask and wiping it off with your thumb. Killer stopped all of his actions, he froze. The tips of his ears were flushed with red. “Uh- you ok?” You asked, waving your hand in front of his mask, snapping him out of it. “Yeah, sorry.” He replied, trying to play it off as nothing. He’s never felt this way for someone before.. It was so different, unfamiliar. Yet at the same time, it was one of the best feelings he’s ever felt in his life.

Once the noodles were done, you took a cup and filled it up with some pasta water, “This is a secret I do, don’t tell anyone. It’s something my Mom taught me when I was a kid.” You whispered to him, setting off the pasta water to the side. You carried the ginormous pot towards the sink, struggling a bit with the size of it. Killer helped you a bit, draining the pasta into a strainer. “Almost done.” You said with a smile, taking the sauce you two made and putting it onto a skillet. You stirred in the bacon, as well as a tiny sprinkle of pepper. You then instructed Killer to pour in the sauce, “See? Cooking isn’t so hard!” You said happily with a grin, letting him try to stir around the sauce. He laughed silently, watching you pour in the pasta water with a gentle smile on your face. He couldn’t help but find himself staring at whatever you were doing. He almost always got caught in a daze if he didn’t keep himself from staring. You then put in the pasta noodles, stirring it around skillfully, turning the stove off quickly. Killer grabbed two plates, one for you and him. As you put the pasta on his plate, you giggled and gave him way more than you gave yourself. “Hey- why did you give me more?” He asked with a confused tone. “Because you said you liked pasta, there’s always more if you want more.” You replied with a smile, taking the cheese, and the grater in your hands. You then started grating the cheese, the little flakes falling onto his plate. He had a smile on his face, his heart felt so.. Full of compassion, and all of it was yours, “Thank you, y/n.”

a/n - pls I love pasta sm 😭 this was sooooo cute I loved writing it, tysm Kero!! 💜🥺

<3

[yandere-sins]

Hi, Sorry if this is a bother, can I request Yandere Beelzebub and a Breeding Kink? If not, you can pick anything you want to write, I love this boy so much, I’ll take anything, and you write him so cute and achingly smothering 💖

Hope you like it, I think I found a way to make it more Beel! Thanks for requesting ^^

Rated Lemon!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

Of all the things you could have said to him. Of all the jokes you could have made. Of all words to choose from.

Why did you say this?!

“I can’t eat that much! It’s not like I’m pregnant.”

You laughed it off as if it was funny, but Beel didn’t laugh with you. In fact, you had never seen him this serious before as he stared at you for a long time, contemplating your words before getting up and closing the tilted windows shut, pulling the curtains close, and checking if the door was locked for privacy. The chuckles soon got stuck in your throat as he stalked back to you, your body instinctively knowing better than to remain in the same spot, but it was too late to crouch away over the ground as he picked you up by the armpits and threw you down onto the bed.

For the longest time, you had imagined yourself safe with him. Even if he seemed downright needy for your attention lately, would drag you off to his room whenever he had the chance, and hog you all to himself, it never crossed your mind that sweet, gluttonous Beel was dangerous. Even if you two had history, he still seemed as sweet and precious as he always was, making more than sure you were well-fed and cared for, loved even. In his presence, you could forget about the tedious work for RAD and the constant bickering from your ‘roommates’ and just escape your every-day-life for a while. Watch some good movies, have some food, tell him about your worries without having him overanalyze your problems.

It was comfortable.

So you never expected him to snap like this.

“I think I understand it now,” he mumbled as he pulled off his shirt, exposing the muscular build underneath, truly a sight for gods. Beel climbed on top of you, letting his ever-so-hungry eyes wander over your body as if he was estimating your capabilities. A moment of silence fell over you two as he stared deep into your eyes, your reflection in his showing confusion and... fear. 

“I didn’t consider that your stomach is too small if you are eating only for yourself.”

 Even if you had corrected him about his assumption at that moment, you had doubts he would have listened to you anymore.

»»———————— 

Of all the brothers, you never had envisioned Beel to be sexually active or even having a clue about what to do in this type of situation. It was your fault that you dismissed hundreds of years of being alive for nothing since he only ever ate or hung out with his brothers. But having him press you down into the mattress assertively, your head in his palm, and ramming his cock into you like a bull, you had your doubts that he was as innocent as you believed him to be.

The relationship you two had before had been strictly friendly; you wouldn’t have thought to bring it to this level. Sure, he had licked some whipped cream off the corner of your mouth before or let his arm hang between your legs, absent-mindedly stroking your thigh, but you had always brushed it off as harmless affections and teases. Perhaps you had been wrong. Maybe Beel saw you two as something very different than you were, and you had ignored his longing gazes and attempts to close in the distance between your mouths for much too long.

But that giant, gritty mess pounding into you from behind was nothing remotely close to harmless.

Your mind was in a weird state of worry. One where pleasure had long overtaken most of the coherent thoughts and concerns you had about sex. The last two orgasms had already burned most of your resistance, making your limbs soft and your body compliant to what Beelzebub was doing with you. Not like there was any chance to struggle your way out to begin with, Beel’s strength coming in handy when pinning you down and destroying any attempt of pushing him away and fighting your way out. From the moment he put his tip against your entrance, his whole demeanor had changed. Suddenly he wasn’t the sweet and somewhat indifferent glutton you were used to having around. Now he was serious, focused, and determined, and you didn’t know how to deal with this side of him as well as the endless waves of pleasure rocking through you undisturbed.

Beelzebub didn’t need your help in fucking you senseless, luckily - you wouldn’t have been able to assist him anymore - one less worry on your mind. No matter how much you had wanted to resist, your body had long melted into the pleasure and desire he spread in you. Perhaps, your body knew more than you. Knew what all this was about. But all you could focus on was the tight grip around your waist, pulling you back and forth in the rhythm of Beel pumping into you and the thick cock spreading and filling you up. 

The way he managed to hammer it into you intensely and pull it out slowly, but to the point you felt every vein on his shaft, gave you goosebumps. Every time Beel backed away, you found yourself hoping he’d come back for more, and every time he slammed into you, you wondered when it would finally push you both over the edge.

You didn’t even want to think about the mess you’d be the next day. The aching, pain, and discomfort this would bring you. All you hoped for was that he wouldn’t lose a sense of himself and actually bite out a piece of flesh on you in his trance-like fucking. 

No one - not even you yourself - had ever stretched you out so much, explored that deep. No one ever had a taste of you the same way Beel did. And with the way he treated you, you weren’t just a sample to him - you were the whole damn platter of delicacies! No matter how much he worked you to achieve his goal of filling you with white, sticky cum, your body was covered in teeth marks and hickeys, and you found out that was more of his love language than words - which he kept sparse - would ever be. 

Still, by the way Beel was groaning and biting back the sounds stuck in his throat, you had no doubts how he was feeling about it all. The sweat of your bodies combined with the pool of fluids between your legs, the sound of your hips colliding over and over enough to fill the room with instead of pesky words. No matter what he’d have said, it wouldn’t have justified or made his actions better. It would only help soothe whatever anxiety you had. But with the frenzy he was in, all you could do was hope that you were special to him nonetheless.

You had expected that at some point, your body would loosen up, adjust to the size of his cock and accommodate him properly. Still, every push, again and again, felt like a tight squeeze and ignited another flame of passion in your depths. You were ready to be done. Ready to receive the seed he had wanted to plant inside of you all this time, prepared to...

Oh, no.

Finally, it dawned on you, your eyes widening as your strength returned back into your body with the clarity of mind you had suddenly. Instantly, you tried to turn and push away from the demon using you like a cheap fleshlight, but while you seemed to regain some sense while experiencing your body being prepared to use it for breeding, Beel wasn’t that far. 

“Stop!” you yelled, only for your voice to be caught in a loud moan as Beel pressed deep inside you.

You didn’t want to be pregnant! It had been a freaking joke to stop him from overfeeding you again that night. If anything, you were perfectly fine not bearing children, and you weren’t even sure if your body was ready for it either. Sure, Beel was a demon and must have his way to inseminate you if he so desired, but that was the furthest thing on your mind!

“You’re not wearing a condom!” you tried to reason with him as you felt his pace quicken, perhaps stirred by your sudden movement, encouraged to end it while you still hadn’t been able to escape him. Of course, it was futile, Beel growling a low, “Yes...” before gripping your outstretched wrist tightly, pulling you back into his hips roughly and moaning loudly. 

Nothing could have prepared you for yet another wave of electric shocks as you orgasmed, body shivering and making you gasp lustily, the tip of his cock deeper inside you than ever. The position really did make the difference, but you felt your brain fry with this orgasm, causing you to collapse into the soft pillows the moment Beel let go of your wrist. Had he not caught you with his hands on your hips again, you would have slipped off him, messy and completely out of it, like a fulfilled little slut. But this wasn’t over yet.

“That was the whole point,” he muttered with ragged breath. Your body got pulled along as he sat back, pulling you into his lap and crossing his arms over your torso. He didn’t even need to push you down, gravity doing him a favor with pressing you down on his cock. You felt your still convulsing walls spread for him again, making space despite feeling sore and used. But Beel was the one to make sure you’d reach the very base of his shaft for good measures, giving you the final push from below until there was no more inch to dig into you. “We’re doing this for you,” he reminded you, but you were too dazed to understand anything of what he was talking about. Part of you wished for no more orgasm, and the other hoped he’d sent you back to heaven with each push that brought his cock deeper inside you.

Spreading your legs over his, Beel tugged your arms behind your back, using them to pull you back every time you almost slid off him. You wanted it to stop. You wanted him to fuck you deeper. You wished it would end now. But you hoped it would never end. Until the moment you could feel the hot, slimy mess he left inside of you, making your toes curl and your mouth mewl in the desperation that was orgasm number four, you never stopped wondering what you were doing with Beel, letting him fucking impregnate on his own decision. 

Who gave him the right to do it, and who gave him the right to be so good at it?

His teeth sunk into your shoulder one more time as he orgasmed, his whole body rocking and trying to go even deeper than he already was, spreading out his semen over every inch inside of you so it would carry far and wide. Your body wasn’t ready for any of this, but it felt so good, so right, to be taken by this demon friend of yours, naturally even. The pleasure was addicting, and you could feel yourself growing to like it as it made you forget even your own name.

It didn’t even bother you when Beel finally let you off, your body slumping onto the mattress as if you were a lifeless sack of potatoes. This man was a monster. A monster you had ignored for far too long, setting it off with just a silly comment of yours. Big, muscular arms snaked under yours, holding your hands while his body settled on top of you, completely smashing you beneath him.

“You think that’s enough?” he asked, mumbling the words into your ear. “Will that make you pregnant? Do you want to have some more food now?”

Even if you wanted to reply, all you could do was let out jumbled groans from your throat. Eyes unable to focus, as were your thoughts, you stared off into the distance. The next thing you felt was the hot feeling of something dripping out of you, and you wished this to be the end of the ordeal. Part of you still wanted to believe that he genuinely, innocently thought this would make life better for you. Help you to enjoy all that he enjoyed in the same amounts Beel was able to consume. You still wanted to believe in the sweet boy that would let you cuddle when you had a nightmare and not tell anyone about it the following day. Believe that he wasn’t aware of what he was really doing.

But his following words completely destroyed that image of him for you forever.

“You know I’ll take good care of it,” he mumbled, and you felt one of his hands wander down your body, fingertips probing against your entrance. “I’ll make sure you and the baby eat enough, and we can have all our meals together from now on, so staying with me will be the best for you two.”

His fingers disappeared inside of you knuckle-deep, making you moan out loudly as they stirred up your insides. “I’ll do my best to be a good dad, too,” he announced, pushing himself up again and giving your lungs back the space to breathe. “So you...”

Only now did you feel a long, stiff shaft between your asscheeks. 

Something you wouldn’t have expected to appear after what went down just now. Your eyes widened as you felt it travel lower again, the two fingers getting pulled out slowly, replaced by the tip of his cock.

“... make sure to do your best too,” Beel mumbled, licking his lips before pushing his entire length back in your still wet hole, letting out a loud groan of pleasure on his part.

“Let’s build our future together, okay?”