#Disaster utensils

[zibiscusloon]

Feathered Fiends who can’t Flirt

[zibiscusloon]

👉👈 👀 please-

Send “📂“ for a random yet completely useless headcanon I have

[noble-kale]

Eman Abdelrahman, @emiiii980, (#213) is a 25 year old Sudanese who has tragically lost her home when the RSF has bombed it on June 24th, 2023. Not only she has lost the place she has grown up in, but her younger brother has been martyred. Grieving over the loss, Eman and her family moved into her relatives' house, but they could not support her, so she decides to rebuild her home!

In May 2024, she has brought 20K bricks, a refrigerator, and kitchen utensils. Unfortunately, the city Eman and her family intend to move in has been bombed by the RSF! Then, in July, the situation has gotten worse. The RSF closes in on Eman's location, so she needs to evacuate ASAP! Eman has been asking for our help, but donations would trickle in little by little or stop completely.

Now we are in November. The window to evacuate has diminished all because the Sudanese pound has inflated. So we are back to square one again. Eman wants to rebuild her house once again! So let's help her achieve the short-term goal of 37K in the next 3 days! 36,007 CHF has been raised. There is 1,993 CHF left to go!

My friend has given 5 CHF, and you can match her! But you are more than welcome to give more. You can also participate in the book raffle hosted by @/magnus-rhymes-with-swagness if you show your proof of donation!

(Make sure to pay attention to currency exchange! $10 USD = 8 CHF!)

[kithtaehyung]

minted (m) (snippet) | myg

title: minted (m) pairing: street king!yoongi x street cart vendor!reader rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , smut ; haegeum au , gang au summary: all you do is wake up, sell your fruit on the dusty streets below your flat, and go to sleep. but everything changes when a customer you always look forward to seeing turns out to be dangerous. really, really dangerous. note: again, this wasn't on the docket for 2024 until i saw one (1) mint yoongi edit on my pinterest feed💀 anyways, this is dedicated to hali @sailoryooons for ur belated bday, nary @joonary for being a cutie pie and letting me adopt the tangerine cart girl idea in general, and luce @minttangerines for ur url and for being a wonderful friend. love you all! warnings: language, violence, weapons (guns/knives/chopsticks/etc.), blood/wounds mentions, drugs, alcohol, murder, gang activity, poor reader is just trying to get through the day, mint!yoongi, haegeum!yoongi, tatted!yoongi, his eyebrow is pierced, knife held to the throat, tension, reader suffers from “my cabbages” levels of disaster, orange!jimin, fight scenes, both versions of yoongi have their own red warning labels smut warnings: to be dropped on drop day but lmfaoooo est. drop date: july 2024! teaser word count: 486 total word count: projecting 15-20k✌️

With a head full of thoughts, you stare into nothing, stirring your noodles and waiting for the heat to die down. 

Maybe you should’ve just walked a shorter distance and checked the shops you originally wanted to browse. If things went to plan, you could’ve been back home by now, freshly showered and curling up on your worn bed. 

But instead, your feet are sore, your head is anything but washed, and you have to trek home empty-handed—on the first day off you’ve had in months. 

Defeated, you sigh, going back to your bowl and watching diced vegetables swirl in aromatic broth. 

At least the food in this area seems good. And the fading decor really adds to the… 

Ambiance. 

Wait. 

You can’t pull your eyes away from the group walking in, bringing heat from the sweltering sun on their clothes and in their eyes. 

But you can only kid yourself for so long because the one that has your gaze tethered is the man in front. The one you haven’t seen in weeks. The one looking right back at you with a visage so shadowed you feel like moving tables to let him pass. 

…Yoongi? 

As he gets closer, you swallow hard, not expecting to see him and having no earthly idea what to do. 

But from the slight confusion pinching his forehead, he didn’t expect to see you, either. Which makes it even weirder when he slowly takes your chopsticks right from your fingers. 

Hold on, what—

“What are you—”

A lone, long digit over lips is the only response you get, silencing you immediately before you whip your head around to watch him rush past. 

All of them waste no time rushing up the stairs, a myriad of blues blending in with gritty paint and smoke. 

And just like that, your reunion is over. 

Home. You need to go home. Leave, leave, leave, because something is bound to be going down upstai—

A thud faintly shoots out into the staircase, and you spin around again in your chair, eyes snapping to the ceiling. 

Shit. 

Even though you’re on high alert, you realize with a quick sweep that no one else is noticing. Or moving. Or even paying attention to anything else but their own company. 

Does no one else care about the commotion? Do hits happen in this area that often? 

Mind running, you can’t decide what to do. Because even though Yoongi’s guys have plenty of weapons, he clearly had nothing since he needed to borrow your damn eating utensils.

Another crash rains dust on conversations around your shoulders, causing you to look up one last time. 

Go home, go home, go home. In what universe would Yoongi himself ever need your help here?

With one more look at your noodles, you curl your lips before biting a side. 

Already yelling at yourself for choosing to book it towards the back staircase.

-

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tbc :)))

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⟶ what do we feel! | 🥢 join the taglist 🥢 | masterlist

a/n: LETS GOOOO WHO IS HYPED BCCC..

[zibiscusloon]

👉👈 please-

𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒!

feel free to tweak questions + all emojis r listed in text form bc i can't see some of them aAAaaAA! sorry if any of these questions are too similar i tried to avoid that but .. there's a lot lol! categorized by emoji type.

i wanted to make one because i could not find one on tumblr already that had a ton of questions. this was created by combining ones under the #oc ask game tag + my own contributions. hi charmymemes nation i'm back.

people

👁️ EYE - what colour are their eyes? do people notice their eyes? is there anything special about them (shows emotion easily, literally magical...)?

🤥 LYING - are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

😭 CRYING - what makes them cry? do they cry easily?

👊 PUNCH - are they quick to violence?

💢 ANGER - what are some habits they have that will take some getting used to?

👪 FAMILY - what is their family like? what is your ocs relationship to them? does your oc have any siblings?

😨 FEARFUL - when scared, do they go into "flight" or "fight"?

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?

food & drinks

🥞 PANCAKE - what is their comfort breakfast?

🎂 BIRTHDAY CAKE - when is their birthday? do they like celebrating it?

🍩 DONUT - favourite sweet treat?

🍟 FRIES - do they order food often? or they prefer to cook their own food?

☕️ HOT BEVERAGE - do they prefer hot or cold drinks? what is their favourite drink?

🍓 STRAWBERRY - do they eat their fruit & veg? what is their favourite fruit or vegetable?

🍰 CAKE SLICE - favourite cake flavour? are they specific about types of cakes?

🍧 SHAVED ICE - do they still have any objects from their childhood? what significance does it have to them? what would their reaction be if they lost it?

plants & nature

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

🌙 MOON - what is your oc's greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

🌋 VOLCANO - how bad is their temper? is it a slow boil, or a instant explosion?

🌺 HIBISCUS - do they have any allergies?

🍁 MAPLE LEAF - what is their favourite season? why?

🍃 FALLING LEAF - do they enjoy being in nature? what is their favourite outdoor activity?

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

🌹 ROSE - do they like valentines day? have they been confessed to before? have they confessed to anyone before?

🙈 SEE-NO-EVIL - whats a side of your oc that they don't want to show other people?

🙊 SPEAK-NO-EVIL - what is something your oc will refuse to stay quiet about?

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

🌱 SEEDLING - what is their most vivid memory from childhood?

🍀 CLOVER - do they believe in luck? are they lucky?

🌏 EARTH - will they give up the world for someone they love? is this decision easy for them?

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

activity

⚾ BASEBALL - can they play sports? what is their best position if they play a team sport? what's their strong suit (speed, power etc.)?

🏊 SWIMMING - can they swim? or are they afraid of water? how well do they swim? how do they feel about swimming in the ocean?

objects

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

📖 OPEN BOOK - do they like reading? what's their favourite genre?

🪤 MOUSE TRAP - what will always lure them into certain danger? a loved one in danger? a promise of something they are always searching for?

📸 CAMERA - do they enjoy having their picture taken? what's their go-to pose? do they like taking photos? what do they take photos of?

🎭 MASKS - do they act differently around certain people? what's different between the way they act around friends, family, strangers, etc.?

✂️ SCISSORS - what is the "last straw" for them to cut someone out of their life? how easily do they let go of people?

💡 LIGHTBULB - is your oc a planner? do they write down every small detail or just wing it?

💎 DIAMOND - how rich are they? can they live the lifestyle they want to?

🎁 PRESENT - what types of presents would they be most happy to receive? are they good at gift giving?

🍼 BABY BOTTLE - what are their thoughts on children?

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

🎤 MICROPHONE - are they good at singing? what is their go-to karaoke song?

🎷 SAXOPHONE - do they play any instruments? are they any good at it?

📚 BOOKS - how were they at school? what is their best subject? what is their worst subject? do they have a favourite subject?

👖 JEANS - what is their go-to outfit?

🎨 PALETTE - can they draw? what do they like to draw?

🎡 FERRIS WHEEL - are they someone who wants to kiss at the top of the ferris wheel?

⏳ HOURGLASS - are they usually late or on-time?

🔫 PISTOL - do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back to someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

🎀 RIBBON - how would they fit into other worlds / aus? what aus would you like to try out? what fictional world would they fit / not fit into?

📎 PAPERCLIP - a random fact.

📦 PACKAGE - what are some "most likely to..." that can apply to them?

🖍️ CRAYON - what advice would you give to them?

⚙️ GEAR - what are your ocs thoughts on science & art? which do they give more importance to? how much value do they place on each?

🔧 WRENCH - are they good at fixing relationships? or do they tend to avoid doing so?

❇️ SPARKLE - what is their most prized possession? what do they value?

📏 RULER - is your oc well educated? where did they get their learning from?

transport

🚆 TRAIN - what is their answer to the trolley problem?

🚲 BICYCLE - can they ride a bike? what do they remember from learning to ride a bicycle?

weather

🌩️ LIGHTNING - are they scared of lightning?

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

❄️ SNOWFLAKE - do people consider them cold? if so, what made them this way?

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

🌈 RAINBOW - what advice would they give to their younger self?

🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

☁️ CLOUD - a soft headcanon

🌟 GLOWING STAR - what do they think about when they look at the night sky? is there someone they want to star gaze with?

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

hearts

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

💘 HEART W/ ARROW - what traits do they look for in a relationship? do they believe in love at first sight?

💗 GROWING HEART - if they have a crush, is it noticable? what changes when they're in love?

❤️ RED HEART - their love language(s)?

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around?

💚 GREEN HEART - what things make your oc feel comforted? hugs, kisses, food?

💖 SPARKLING HEART - are they a subtle or a showy lover?

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

[hsnlv]

cookie confession | l.hs

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

synopsis: when you come home to heeseung baking cookies, it seems like a sweet surprise—until his overly affectionate behavior sets off alarm bells. as you dig deeper, his guilty confession leads to a whirlwind of burnt cookies, broken blushers, and hilariously clumsy apologies.

warnings/others: fluff!, mention of hamster’s death (gasp! tragic!), heeseung is clumsy but he’s cute so he’s forgiven!

wc: 1.6k

a/n: hello! it warms my heart knowing that adorably mine! receives a lot of love from people. so heres another hee fic for you <3 and feel free to check out my page and read my other creations (the old ones are cringe ew so pls dont read those😵‍💫) here’s my masterlist!

you unlock the door to your apartment, the faint scent of something sweet wafting through the air. it greets you the moment you step inside, and you furrow your brows, slipping off your shoes. the aroma is enticing—warm, sugary, and a little… burnt?

you head toward the kitchen, your bag sliding off your shoulder, and there he is. lee heeseung, standing in the middle of the chaos he’s somehow created.

the counter is dusted in flour, bowls and utensils scattered around, chocolate chips spilled everywhere. heeseung himself looks like a disaster: hair slightly messy, an apron tied around his waist, and a smudge of flour on his cheek.

his head snaps up when he hears you, and a wide grin spreads across his face. “baby, you’re home!”

his voice is so soft, so warm, and the way his eyes light up makes your heart flutter.

“what’s going on in here?” you ask, setting your bag down on a chair. you glance at the oven, where a faint trail of smoke seeps out from the edges.

“i’m baking cookies for you,” he announces proudly, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “because my girlfriend is the most amazing, beautiful, smart person in the whole world, and she deserves cookies.”

you blink up at him, confused but also charmed. his voice is sweet, dripping with sincerity, but something about the way he’s acting doesn’t sit right.

“cookies, huh?” you murmur, tilting your head as you eye him suspiciously.

he leans down to press a kiss to your temple. “only the best for you.”

his words are perfect—almost too perfect. and that’s when it clicks.

“heeseung,” you say slowly, watching him tense slightly, “what did you do this time?”

he pulls back, blinking at you, a picture of innocence. “huh? i’m just baking cookies for my beautiful girlfriend. what do you mean, ‘what did i do’?”

you narrow your eyes. you know this heeseung. the overly sweet, doting heeseung who only acts this way when he’s done something he’s trying to cover up. you’ve seen it before.

like the time he accidentally bathed your hamster.

<flashback>

“hee, where’s mochi?” you asked, setting down the hamster cage that you had been cleaning in the other room.

heeseung’s eyes darted toward the bathroom door, and you immediately felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

“heeseung,” you said slowly, your voice laced with suspicion, “what are you doing?”

“nothing!” he yelped, his tone way too defensive for it to actually mean nothing.

you stormed toward the bathroom, pushing the door open to find… mochi. soaking wet. sitting in the sink.

“heeseung!” you shrieked. “why is mochi in the sink?!”

“he smelled weird!” heeseung cried, his voice high-pitched and panicked. “i thought i could, you know, help him out—”

“you’re not supposed to BATHE hamsters!” you cut him off, your hands flying to your head in disbelief.

“how was i supposed to know that?!”

you glared at him, watching as mochi blinked at you both, looking utterly done with life.

you sighed heavily, scooping the little hamster out of the sink and carefully drying him off.

later that week, mochi passed away—not because of the bath (though you’ll never let heeseung live it down), but simply because he was old and fragile.

and of course, heeseung cried at least twice as much as you did, apologizing to mochi’s empty cage every time he passed by it for the next month.

<end of flashback>

you shake your head at the memory, eyeing heeseung as he fidgets under your gaze.

“lee heeseung,” you say again, your voice firm this time, “what did you do?”

his lips part as if to respond, but he hesitates, his hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck. “nothing, baby, i swear. just… just focus on the cookies, okay? you’ll love them, promise.”

“hee,” you deadpan, crossing your arms over your chest. “what. did. you. do.”

he sighs, defeated, and gives you a sheepish smile. “okay, okay, i might’ve broken something.”

your stomach drops. “you what?”

“it was an accident!” he rushes to explain, holding up his hands defensively. “i didn’t mean to—i was trying to clean our room and my elbow—” he stops, cringing.

“what did you break, heeseung?” you ask, dread creeping into your voice.

“your… blusher,” he admits quietly, wincing as he says it.

“you broke my what?!”

he winces again, his voice small. “your blusher. the one in the little pink compact.”

“heeseung!” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

heeseung flinches, his hands coming together in front of him like he’s praying for mercy. “i know, i know, and i’m really, really sorry. but it wasn’t on purpose, baby! it just… fell! and then it kind of… exploded.”

“exploded?” you echo, staring at him incredulously.

he gestures helplessly toward the trash can. “it’s everywhere, and trust me, i tried to salvage it, but it’s just… gone. like, really gone.”

“which one was it?”

“it says ‘charlotte’ something,”

“lee heeseung, what the fuck?! my charlotte tilbury blusher?” you’re screaming at this point. heeseung just stands there, blinking innocently, his lips in a pout.

you sigh deeply, shaking your head. “heeseung, that was a limited-edition shade! i can’t even replace it!”

he winces at the word limited-edition, looking like a scolded puppy. “i’ll buy you a new one,” he offers quickly, stepping closer to you. “any shade you want. even if it costs a fortune.”

you cross your arms, glaring up at him. “you bet you will.”

“please don’t be mad,” he pleads, wrapping his arms around you. “i’ll make it up to you, i promise. i’ll even get you two blushers—one for everyday use and one as a backup!”

you huff, turning your head away from him. “you’re lucky you’re cute, lee heeseung.”

he grins, sensing the tiniest crack in your armor. “cute enough to make you forgive me?”

“no.”

“adorable enough to make you consider forgiving me?” he tries, his voice light and teasing as he nuzzles his nose into your neck.

“don’t push it,” you mumble, though you’re already fighting a smile.

“what if i let you eat the cookies first?” he offers, pulling back to look at you with big, hopeful eyes. “the ones i baked with all my love.”

you glance toward the oven, where the faint smell of something burnt still lingers. “hee, those cookies are probably inedible.”

he gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “how dare you doubt my skills?!”

“heeseung, you burned instant noodles last week.”

“that was one time!”

“and the spaghetti before that.”

“okay, fine,” he concedes with a sheepish grin. “but at least let me try to make it up to you. we can go shopping tomorrow, and you can pick whatever makeup you want. blushers, lipsticks, foundation, the whole works.”

you narrow your eyes at him. “you’re just saying that because you feel guilty.”

“absolutely,” he says without hesitation, pulling you into another hug. “but I also mean it. because i love you, and you deserve everything.”

you roll your eyes, though your heart softens at his words.

“fine,” you mutter, resting your forehead against his chest. “but i’m still mad about the blusher.”

“understood,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “i’m officially on probation.”

“and you’re cleaning the kitchen,” you add, glancing at the flour-coated counter.

he groans dramatically. “you drive a hard bargain, babe.”

“consider it payback for mochi,” you say with a smirk.

heeseung freezes, his expression comically guilty. “you’re never letting me live that down, are you?”

“never,” you reply, stepping out of his embrace and grabbing a cookie from the tray he set on the counter. it’s slightly misshapen and more than a little burnt, but you take a bite anyway.

it’s terrible.

but as heeseung watches you with a hopeful, lopsided grin, you can’t help but think it’s a little perfect, just like him.

[kitchenwitchtingss]

50 KITCHEN WITCH TIPS TO MAKE YOU FEEL MORE WITCHY

(And other useful things I've learned over the years)

Hi! This is a list of dos, don'ts, tips, tricks, and other fun things that I've learned over the years. I always love finding more effective and efficient ways of doing things so if you have any cool things you'd like to add, leave them in the comments or reblog. I'd love to read it.

Anyways... On with the list ^_^

Light candles around your kitchen space (just make sure nothing flammable is near you)

Annotate your cookbooks with the correspondence of the ingredients.

Mediating is really good to calm the mind before cooking.

Cut oranges and lemons thinly, dry them, and hang them with twine around your kitchen

Need a cleansing tip? Open all your windows near your kitchen. Let some fresh air in.

Cutting sigils into apples, pie crusts, and carved potatoes.

Save lemon and orange rinds, freeze them, and then use them to clean the garbage disposal.

Make infused oils and honey: Things like garlic honey, lavender honey, herb oil, sun oil, moon oil, dandelion oil, and other different edible oils are very fun and useful to make.

Hid sigils in pages of your cookbooks and kitchen witch journals.

Add some plants! Snake plants and spider plants don't need too much light, and growing your own herbs in your kitchen is awesome too. Basil, lavender, thyme, aloe vera, rosemary, etc. are good fits. You could also add some plants that require more sunlight on the kitchen window sill. Like cacti and succulents.

Bring crystals into your kitchen space such as rose quartz, clear quartz, amethyst, or whatever you want the space's intentions to be.

I keep a small money tree on the sill, along with cacti for luck and protection.

Make a simmer Pot! Mostly because it makes the whole house smell good, easy, and fun.

Stir clockwise for best results!

Learning how to pickle things is actually pretty witchy. Plus, anyone could do it as it requires absolutely no kitchen experience. You could pickle any vegetable, even if you don't like pickles. I originally learned this after having to take shelter from a natural disaster. A person brought a bunch of stuff and taught us how to pickle things with different spices and herbs. Very fun!

Decorate your kitchen with your favorite stuff. Crystals, decor, heat mits, that cool mushroom cake stand you've been eyeing at the World Market for the past 2 weeks, cool looking curtains, sun catchers. Why stop there? Paint the walls, hang shelves full of marked-up cookbooks that are a little too well-loved and thumbed through.

Wanna be the person that has the amazing-smelling house every time people come over? Syrups take some time to simmer down, it's actually a pretty good time to leave it on the stove to simmer. Since syrups have a lot of aromatic ingredients, it acts as a really good-smelling simmer pot.

Hang up herbs to dry with twine from cabinets that are rarely used.

Invest in that new set of plates and cups.

Homemade jams, butter, sauces, and syrups are your best friend.

Crochet or knit your own dish rags, pot holders, etc.

Don't pour extremely hot things into a glass that's not Pyrex, it will break, and you will be very sad about it.

Don't cook anything while extremely upset or emotional (For safety reasons)

Make recipes you want to make, not just because you'll like the effect. Make it because you think it's tasty.

Chinese Five Spice works in place of herbs for protection and luck spells a lot of the time! It's cheaper to buy 1 spice than 4 different spices that total up to 15 dollars when you could just spend 3-4 dollars.

Take a shower before cooking (I don't know how to explain this one other than it makes you feel better)

Don't use microfiber/plastic material clothes on hot burners, it will fuse to the burner and melt. It is VERY hard to get off.

I don't know if I need to put this one but I did see someone do it so nonstick pan = wooden utensils and plastic utensils, metal pan = metal utensils. Do not use a metal spoon in a nonstick pan, please. It can make you very sick.

Keep your pets away from hot oil, open ovens, and hot pans.

You can proof bread dough in the fridge overnight if you don't have the time to bake, or want to eat fresh bread right in the morning.

Need a quick witchy meal for dinner in 12 minutes? Use premade tomato pasta sauce and doctor it up with thyme, rosemary, and garlic, for protection and distilling stagnant energies. Serve with pasta of your liking.

You can substitute Butter for Crisco/shortening, buttermilk for 1 cup of milk + 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar or lemon juice, and heavy cream for 1 cup of half and half plus 2 tbsp of butter.

Use leftover animal bones to make bone broth

Teach yourself the art of bread scoring (It's fun, and you can show it off to your loved ones!)

Collect and hoard your own and others' family recipes.

Sometimes the food doesn't have to be a spell, sometimes it just makes you feel good and you don't know why.

Listen to your favorite music in the kitchen, it makes the monotonous things like chopping veggies move faster.

Invest in a vegetable chopper if you don't like chopping vegetables.

Find a really good hot cocoa recipe and make it once a week. Master it. Just for your own happiness because hot cocoa is really good. You could also be the friend/family member that makes the best hot cocoa ever.

Focaccia Bread Lasts a very long time, and it's very easy to make!

Keep a first aid kit near where the oven is, in case of burns, cuts, or serious injuries where time is everything.

Quick Bread and no-rise loaves are simple for beginners, tasty, and take little time. They also feel very witchy to make.

Study a bit of Herbalism! It's fun and really helps better understand the herbs you're putting into your food.

While something is boiling, put your wooden spoon over the pot to minimize the chance of something boiling over.

Try a bit of coffee magick, it's simple to get into, and gives you a boost of energy to take on the day!

If you're over 21, wine-making is a very interesting way to celebrate the sabbats. Just with that, make sure you KNOW what you're doing. With anything fermented, there's always a risk if you don't store things correctly. Apple wines, strawberry wines, dandelion wines, etc. all very cool to experiment with. If you're not over 21, vinegar is a similar way to experiment.

Hang up some witchy things, sigils, photos, cool magnets, and other things that give you joy on your fridge. (Sometimes if you are lucky they have some fun magnets at five below)

If you live in the US, for some reason, there are a lot of books in the book section dedicated to witchcraft and spirituality. At least where I live. And they are all under 5 dollars!

Teas are the cheapest and easiest things you can practice being a kitchen witch.

[aventurineswife]

🤣 The one with Yor Forger!Reader lmaooooooo

Now I’m picturing the AE crew having to eat their cooking and they’re all collectively horrified.

But then Welt eats it anyway with a completely straight face and gives some pretty good criticism (becuz he noticed Reader’s hands were a little cut up and burnt from the effort and doesn’t want them to feel bad) before leaving.

And then Pom-Pom and March go check on him and he’s uhhhhh definitely not feeling well. 😅

Meanwhile, Caelus/Stelle is the only one somehow unaffected (and probably asking for seconds).

From Burnt to Bonded | Part 3

Summary: An ordinary evening aboard the Astral Express takes an unexpected turn when you decide to prepare dinner for the crew. What starts as an innocent gesture quickly becomes a culinary misadventure, challenging the crew’s taste buds and patience. Despite the questionable outcome, the experience strengthens the crew’s bond, proving that even the most chaotic moments can bring people closer together.

Tags: Astral Express x Reader, Platonic, Hurt/Comfort, Slice of Life, Humor, Found Family, Food Mishap, Culinary Disaster, Fluff and Angst, Welt Being a Dad.

Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries (cuts/burns from cooking), Mild descriptions of food-related discomfort, Slight angst regarding self-worth.

A/N: and this will be the last part of this, goddamn, I didn't expected it to be so long 💀

[Part 1] | [Part 2]

[Header credits]

It had been an ordinary evening aboard the Astral Express, but today, something was different. A new experiment had taken place in the ship’s galley — you had taken it upon yourself to whip up dinner for the crew.

It started innocently enough. The crew was used to their usual meals, carefully prepared by the ship’s automated systems. But when they saw you eagerly walking in with a bowl, the overwhelming optimism in your eyes was hard to ignore. You were so eager to share your homemade cooking, determined to impress everyone with your culinary prowess, or at least with your effort.

"Tonight's dinner is all on me!" you announced cheerfully, placing the steaming bowl of... something on the table.

The crew exchanged curious glances, unsure whether to be excited or worried. March 7th, with her usual enthusiasm, bounced over to the table first. "Ooh, it smells... interesting!" she said, her voice a little uncertain, but always supportive. The others joined her cautiously.

"Looks... uh, different," Dan Heng said quietly, eyeing the dish with suspicion. He had never seen anything quite like it.

"This is... unique," Welt remarked, pushing his glasses up and observing the dish with a level of expertise that seemed to imply he was bracing himself.

Sunday gave a gentle smile. “I’m sure it’s delicious,” he said, trying to mask his own unease. His eyes flickered briefly to the dish, then back to you.

The crew could sense the hesitancy, and that only made you more determined. “I promise it’s going to be great! I’ve been practicing!”

With a collective sigh of resignation, the crew began to dig in.

A few bites in, and it was clear: something had gone terribly wrong.

The texture was… unusual. A blend of mushy and rubbery. The taste was a strange combination of sweetness and bitterness, each bite leaving a lingering aftertaste that no one could place. Even March’s usually upbeat demeanor faltered as she chewed slowly, her eyes wide with confusion. "Uhm... it’s... something," she said, forcing a smile.

Dan Heng took a small bite, then placed his fork down slowly. “I think I’m going to need a drink after this.” he muttered, his stoic expression barely cracking.

Welt remained silent as he took a bite, his face completely unreadable. The crew all watched him, waiting for a reaction.

It was then that the older man set his utensils down, folded his hands calmly, and looked up at the crew with a composed expression. "It’s not... terrible, per se," he began, his tone surprisingly calm. "But there's a lot of room for improvement."

Everyone gasped. They had been bracing for an explosion of distaste, but instead, Welt spoke with the same careful consideration he always used when analyzing a difficult situation.

“First off, the texture is a bit off, not quite as you might expect," Welt continued, pointing at the dish. "It's important to have a balance of softness and firmness in any dish to maintain its integrity. This could use some fine-tuning. Perhaps some more precise timing with the cooking process would help.”

The crew, though still recoiling from the taste, were caught off guard by Welt's composed critique. They exchanged uncertain glances.

“And,” he added, noticing your slightly cut-up hands and bandaged fingers, “it looks like you’ve had a few accidents while preparing this. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard. You need to take better care of yourself.”

There was a pause as everyone looked at you. The tiny cuts and burns on your hands suddenly became more evident, though you’d tried to hide them under your sleeves. Sunday’s eyes softened as he watched your reaction, his gaze tinged with concern.

Your expression faltered for just a second. You hadn't realized the crew had noticed, your focus so consumed by making the meal that your own safety had slipped from your mind. “I… It’s fine,” you replied quickly, not wanting to burden anyone with your injuries. “I just wanted to make something special for you all.”

Welt nodded thoughtfully. “I appreciate the gesture, but your well-being is just as important as your cooking. Rest a little, take care of your hands, and maybe we can try this again with a bit more guidance.”

March, who had been silently observing the exchange, piped up with a bright grin. “I think it’s the thought that counts, right? And hey, maybe we can try it again together! We can improve this with some practice. That’s what friends are for!”

Sunday gave a small smile. “You’ve already succeeded in one thing,” he said, his wings fluttering gently. “You’ve reminded us that even in a place where the impossible happens, there’s always room for growth.”

Your heart swelled at the unexpected support from your crew. Despite the culinary disaster, there was a sense of solidarity that made everything feel a little lighter. You gave them a weak but grateful smile.

“Thank you all. I’ll get it right next time.”

After the meal, the crew began to disperse, still chuckling and gently teasing each other about the "unique" dinner they had just experienced. But as the last of the crew members made their way out of the galley, Welt stayed behind for a moment longer, looking over the scattered remnants of the meal with a pensive expression. He seemed as composed as always, but there was a subtle pallor to his face that hadn't been there before.

He quickly excused himself, muttering something about needing to check on a few things, and made his way toward the hallway. It was then that Pom-Pom, ever the observant one, and March, who was still in her playful mood, exchanged a knowing glance.

Pom-Pom’s small, fluffy form waddled toward March, their ears twitching. “Pom-Pom senses something’s wrong. Let’s go check on Welt!”

March, ever the one to go along with Pom-Pom’s suggestions, nodded with a grin. "You got it! Maybe he just needs a little space to recover from all the flavors... or... maybe he ate a bit too much."

The two quickly followed Welt, trailing behind him as he walked down the corridor, his steps slow and deliberate. When they reached his quarters, they noticed the door slightly ajar, and it creaked open when Pom-Pom gave it a gentle push.

Welt was sitting at the edge of his bed, his face now flushed, though it was unclear whether it was from the lingering effects of the food or something else entirely. He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on the surface of his thighs, trying to compose himself.

"Are you alright, Mr. Yang?" March asked, her voice quieter now, her usual teasing tone replaced with genuine concern. She moved to his side, scanning his face carefully.

Welt looked up at her, his usual composed demeanor starting to crack. "I’m… not sure," he admitted, his voice laced with a rare hint of discomfort. "It seems my stomach is disagreeing with me more than I anticipated."

Pom-Pom, as always, was the first to react, their face lighting up with concern. "Pom-Pom think Welt’s tummy doesn’t like the food! Pom-Pom thinks it needs special care!"

Welt offered a small, self-deprecating smile. "I’m afraid you may be right, Pom-Pom."

March frowned, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You sure you’re okay? Do you want me to get you something, Mr. Yang?”

Before Welt could answer, a voice from behind them caught their attention.

“Everything alright here?”

Caelus stood in the doorway, having apparently overheard the conversation. Unlike the rest of the crew, who had made faces and hesitated after trying the meal, Caelus seemed unbothered, if not pleased. In fact, he had a small plate of the strange dish in hand.

“I have to say, despite the... texture, it wasn’t as bad as I thought,” Caelus continued with a grin, walking into the room with a casual air. "Actually, I’m gonna go ask for seconds.”

March blinked at him in confusion. “Wait, you... liked it?” Her eyes shifted to Pom-Pom, who was equally baffled.

Caelus shrugged, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “What can I say? I have an adventurous palate.”

Welt glanced at him, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re either incredibly brave… or incredibly insane.”

March couldn’t help but laugh, her earlier concern momentarily forgotten as she stared at Caelus with a raised eyebrow. “I guess you’re the only one who escaped the curse of that dish, huh? You should teach us your secret for tolerance.”

“Well, you’re all welcome to try again,” Caelus replied with a wink, taking a nonchalant bite of the food, seemingly enjoying it as much as before.

Welt sighed, his discomfort still evident despite the lighter mood in the room. “I think I’ll pass on any more attempts at that meal for now. Maybe next time, we’ll stick with something a bit simpler.” He placed a hand on his stomach, grimacing slightly before managing to regain his usual calm composure.

Pom-Pom bounced over to Caelus, eyeing the plate. “Pom-Pom wants second helpings too! But Pom-Pom think it’s better to ask first next time.”

Caelus laughed at Pom-Pom’s antics, his eyes sparkling. “Sure, Pom-Pom, you can join me! But next time, let’s make sure someone knows what they’re doing in the kitchen first."

"Yeah, that would probably help," March added with a teasing grin, her eyes flicking back to Welt. "Maybe someone should take the next meal off and let us try something ourselves."

Welt gave her a tired but amused look. "I think that’s a good idea."

As Pom-Pom and March continued to poke fun at Welt's misfortune, the atmosphere lightened, and even the older man couldn’t help but join in the laughter, his earlier discomfort forgotten for the moment.

Meanwhile, Caelus took another bite of the food with a satisfied expression, savoring the bizarre combination of flavors. “I’m just glad we can all laugh about it. And hey, there’s always room for improvement, right?”

The crew may not have gotten the meal they expected, but they had something even more valuable: the sense of camaraderie and the knowledge that, no matter how strange the experience, they were in it together.

[Credits to @aochiorta]

[nightmaretherabbit]

OH MY GOD

AHHH ALL THE GIRLS LOOK SPLENDID!! TY CURLY!!! ILY ILY ILY/P

Summer time!

I watched a video about a 1950’s fashion show about swimsuits, and I just got inspired! And what better way to spread inspiration by giving it to others?

Summer ends for me in 2-3 weeks, so have some summer girls!

Credit:

Gala belongs to @nightmaretherabbit

Rosé belongs to me

Tea belongs to @marshmallow-biscuit-blog

Paris belongs to @cupheadlover101

Moonshine belongs to @trippin-chippin

Elise belongs to @purplemang0z

Ross belongs to @zibiscusloon

Video I watched:

[zibiscusloon]

Introducing: Hortense Wilfowl !

Hortense is a harpy from the mountains of Isle 2. They’re highly carefree and the head of a large flock of raptors who hunt down prey ranging from vermin, to unsuspecting bird hunters.

She’s highly lax and kind to her flock and looks to keep them well maintained and healthy. She has a soft spot for kids and takes most of the children of the Isles under her wing.

They’re very close to Nebuluna, often visiting the fallen angel and watching over Chippy while Neb is out at her work. She and Neb tend to spend a lot of time with each other. Hm.

•Full name is Hortense Wilfowl

•She’s 798 years old (she is mortal, harpies just have a far more extended life span that most species)

•Genderqueer, they/she, sapphic

•Lifelong nemesis to one Werner Werman. Her flock has been hunting down that lil war criminal for years, it’s become less so that she wants her flock to be able to eat him, and more so she wants to see what intricate trap he’ll use to escape them next. He’s terrified of them.

•Views the Warbles family as friends! It’s actually a rather one sided rivalry from Wally’s perspective, as he thinks Hortense is trying to take over his territory. (Willy and her get along a lot better, Hortense has taught him a few hunting methods)

•They and Nebuluna share a mutual crush on each other, Hortense being far more oblivious to her own feelings than Neb is to her own.

(Note: Nebuluna x Cala has since been made non canon to Disaster Utensils. I’m sorry for those who liked that ship, I just couldn’t find myself writing them anymore as the ship wasn’t catching my eye like it used to. They’re now canonly exes.)

[faithfulren]

messy cooking

late at night in the 1-A dorm kitchen, izuku’s attempt to bake cookies turns into a chaotic mess. y/n steps in to help, and amidst playful flour fights and laughter, they bond over the imperfect but heartfelt moment, realizing they make the perfect team.

----

it’s past midnight, and the 1-A dorm’s shared kitchen smells like chaos.

y/n stands in the doorway, arms crossed and eyebrows raised as they watch izuku fumble around the counters. he’s still in his hero training sweats, his hair even messier than usual, with a streak of flour across his cheek. pots, bowls, and random utensils are scattered everywhere, and a thin trail of sugar leads from the counter to the sink.

“izu..” y/n says, barely holding back a laugh, “what on earth are you doing?”

izuku spins around, wide-eyed and guilty. “i—i was trying to make cookies!” he stammers, clutching a whisk that looks like it’s seen better days. “i thought it would be a nice surprise for you, but, uh… things got a little out of hand.”

y/n steps closer, surveying the battlefield of ingredients. “a little?” they tease, picking up an empty carton of eggs and gesturing to the flour explosion on the counter. “this looks like a sugar monster sneezed in here.”

izuku scratches the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “i thought it’d be easy, but i didn’t realize how fast everything happens. and then i forgot to preheat the oven, and, uh… i might’ve added salt instead of sugar at one point.”

y/n snorts, shaking their head as they grab an apron hanging nearby. “alright, chef midoriya. step aside. let me save this disaster.”

izuku blinks, his cheeks flushing. “you… you’re going to help me?”

“of course,” y/n says, pulling their hair back. “but only because you look like you’re about to cry over burnt cookie dough.”

together, they work to salvage the mess. izuku is surprisingly good at taking directions, though his clumsiness doesn’t exactly help. at one point, he accidentally flings a glob of dough onto y/n's cheek, earning a playful glare and a smear of flour across his nose in retaliation.

despite the chaos, laughter fills the room, and by the time the cookies come out of the oven, they’re leaning against the counter together, shoulders brushing and smiles lingering.

“these turned out pretty good,” y/n says, holding up a slightly misshapen cookie.

izuku takes a bite, his eyes lighting up. “they’re perfect,” he says earnestly, looking at y/n with that soft, adoring gaze that makes their heart skip a beat.

y/n grins, bumping their shoulder against his. “they’re messy, but they’re ours. just like this kitchen.”

he laughs, glancing at the disaster zone they’ll have to clean up. “yeah… i guess we make a good team.”

y/n rolls their eyes but leans in closer. “we always do, izu.”

[ricciardosheart]

Hey could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader where she's a chef and he's being her taste tester for her new recipes. Maybe their son, Jack helped (a little bit). Add something you'd like. Tag me later! Thanks :)))

sorry for the delay lol i had not checked my messages, but thanks for the request , hope it did not disappoint, loads of love @pear-1206

Title: Taste Tester Duties Pairing: Toto Wolff X fem!wife and Jack Warning: None

pictures are from pinterest

The kitchen was a beautiful disaster, a blend of chaos and creativity that only came from a day spent experimenting with new recipes. Flour was scattered over the countertops like a dusting of fresh snow, and various kitchen utensils were piled in the sink, a testament to the culinary journey you and your son, Jack, had been on.

You glanced at the clock. It was almost time for Toto to come home. He’d taken on the role of your official taste tester ever since you decided to test out new recipes in the evenings. As a chef, you prided yourself on perfecting every dish, but there was something special about letting your husband, the always-composed Toto Wolff, be the first to try your new creations. And today, with Jack’s “help,” it was bound to be an adventure.

“Mommy, look!” Jack called out, holding up a wooden spoon triumphantly. He’d been in charge of stirring the sauce, but judging by the state of his shirt—and face—half of it seemed to have found its way onto him. Chocolate sauce, no less.

“Oh my,” you chuckled, wiping a smear of chocolate off his cheek with your thumb. “You’re going to be as messy as the kitchen.”

Jack beamed up at you, not bothered at all by the chocolate mayhem. “Papa’s going to love it, right?”

“He will,” you said with a smile, finishing the last of the plating. “Especially when he knows you helped.”

Just as you were setting the dishes out on the kitchen island, you heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. The deep baritone of Toto’s voice followed, speaking a quick goodbye to someone on the phone before he hung up. Jack's face lit up with excitement, and he dashed out of the kitchen to greet his father.

“Papa’s home!” he yelled, his little feet padding down the hallway.

Toto chuckled from the doorway, scooping Jack up into his arms the moment he came barreling into him. “There’s my boy,” Toto said warmly, planting a kiss on Jack’s chocolate-smeared forehead. “Have you been helping Mama again?”

Jack nodded vigorously. “I made the sauce!”

Toto raised an amused eyebrow, following Jack’s enthusiastic pointing toward the kitchen. “I can see that. Very creative.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when they both walked into the kitchen, Jack still perched in Toto’s arms. Toto’s eyes swept over the mess of the kitchen, landing on the immaculate plate of ravioli you had just finished arranging.

“Well, it’s always a good sign when the kitchen looks like a war zone,” he teased, setting Jack down. “Means something special is about to happen.”

“Let’s hope the food looks better than the kitchen,” you said, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I’m ready for my duties,” Toto said, rolling up his sleeves in an exaggerated gesture, a familiar twinkle in his eye. “What culinary adventure have you prepared for me this time?”

You placed the plate of ravioli in front of him with a flourish. “Ravioli with a chocolate reduction sauce. A little sweet, a little savory. And Jack was my sous-chef today.”

Toto glanced between you and Jack, clearly trying to keep a straight face. “A chocolate sauce, you say?”

“I stirred it!” Jack piped up again, climbing into the chair beside his father. “It’s good!”

Toto gave him a playful nod. “Well, if Jack says so, then I trust him. Here goes nothing.”

With that, Toto picked up his fork and carefully cut into the ravioli, making a show of sniffing it dramatically. He took a bite, chewing slowly while you and Jack watched with bated breath.

After a pause that felt much longer than it needed to, Toto’s face broke into a wide grin. “Incredible. Absolutely perfect,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Sweet, savory, just the right amount of balance. Jack, I think you’re a genius.”

Jack’s chest puffed up in pride. “Told you!”

You let out a relieved laugh, playfully rolling your eyes at the theatrics. “I thought I might have lost my touch there for a second.”

“Never,” Toto said, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Though I have to say, I was a little worried when I saw the chocolate…”

“You doubt me?” you said with mock offense.

Toto grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Never. But Jack’s taste is a little more… adventurous than mine.”

As if to prove his point, Jack was already poking at the leftover chocolate sauce on his plate, dipping his fingers in and licking them happily. “It’s the best sauce, Papa. Better than what you have on race weekends.”

“Is that so?” Toto asked, pretending to be offended. “Well, maybe I should ask the Mercedes team chef to take some notes from you two.”

“I’d be happy to share my recipe,” you teased, sitting down beside him. “But it’ll cost you.”

“Oh?” Toto raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “And what’s the fee?”

You leaned in closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Another date night.”

Toto smirked, leaning in just as close. “Deal.”

Before you could steal a quick kiss, Jack interrupted with a loud, “Ew, Papa, no kissing!”

You and Toto both burst into laughter, and Toto ruffled Jack’s hair. “Alright, alright, I’ll spare you this time.”

Jack grinned, pleased with himself, and then clambered off his chair. “Can I have more sauce, Mommy?”

“Only if you promise not to wear it this time,” you said, eyeing the chocolate stains on his shirt.

As you got up to serve Jack another small portion, Toto stayed seated, watching the two of you with a contented smile. These moments—the little everyday joys of being together as a family—were what he looked forward to most after long days spent at the track or in meetings.

“You know,” Toto said, breaking the comfortable silence, “I think this one is good enough to serve at the next team dinner.”

You turned, eyebrow raised. “Really?”

He nodded, a playful smirk on his lips. “Absolutely. I can already picture Lewis and George fighting over the last plate.”

You laughed at the image. “I’m sure Jack’s chocolate sauce will be the next big thing in Formula 1.”

“World champion sauce,” Toto declared, raising his fork like a trophy. “Courtesy of my talented wife and her apprentice.”

Jack beamed, holding up his spoon in victory, mimicking his father’s gesture. “Yeah, world champion!”

You shook your head fondly at the two of them. “Well, before you go declaring any more world championships, how about we clean up this kitchen?”

Toto groaned dramatically. “Ah, the real challenge.”

“Papa, I can help!” Jack offered, hopping off his chair once again.

Toto exchanged a glance with you, his eyes softening. “Alright, buddy. Let’s tackle this together.”

The three of you spent the next while cleaning up, Jack eagerly running around with a small towel, trying his best to wipe up the counters (which mostly meant moving the mess around). But despite the chaos, there was an undeniable warmth that filled the room—one that came from shared moments, laughter, and love.

As the last of the dishes were put away and the kitchen began to resemble something more functional, Toto pulled you into a gentle embrace, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you for this, liebe. It’s exactly what I needed today.”

You smiled, resting your head against his chest. “I’m just happy you like being my taste tester.”

“I love it,” he said softly, his arms tightening around you. “But not nearly as much as I love you.”

“Papa, come on!” Jack’s voice cut through the tender moment as he tugged at Toto’s sleeve. “Let’s go play!”

Toto chuckled, releasing you but not before planting one more quick kiss on your cheek. “Duty calls,” he said with a wink, before scooping Jack up in one fluid motion.

As you watched them disappear into the living room, their laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. Life was messy, but it was yours—perfectly imperfect.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[girlkisser13]

baking with the bau would include

aaron "hotch" hotchner

• aaron would insist on having all the ingredients and utensils ready before starting, ensuring an organized workspace.

• he’d follow the recipe to the tee, measuring ingredients precisely and setting timers for every step.

• his keen eye for detail means nothing gets overlooked, from ensuring the dough is mixed evenly to making sure the oven temperature is just right.

• aaron would make sure to taste the batter or dough, making sure everything is on track, and encouraging you to do the same.

• he’d be diligent about cleaning up as he goes, making sure the kitchen doesn’t turn into a disaster zone.

• throughout the process, he’d engage in meaningful conversation, making the experience not just about baking, but also about spending quality time together.

aaron finished mixing the brownie batter, setting the bowl aside with a satisfied smile. he handed you the spoon, his eyes twinkling. "here, lick the batter," he said, his voice warm and playful.

you eagerly took the spoon, savoring the rich chocolate taste. as you licked it clean, aaron watched you with an amused smile.

"you've got some on your face," he said, leaning in.

you looked at him, puzzled. "where?"

he didn't answer. instead, he closed the distance between the two of you and pressed his lips gently against yours. his kiss was tender, filled with affection.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were filled with warmth. "got it," he whispered, a mischievous grin on his lips.

you laughed, your eyes meeting his. "you just wanted an excuse to kiss me."

he shrugged, his smile widening. "guilty as charged."

you grinned back, the kitchen filled with your shared laughter.

derek morgan

• expect a lot of teasing and playful banter. derek is known for his charming and humorous personality.

• the two of you would probably have some music playing in the background, and he might even bust out some dance moves while waiting for the items to bake.

• derek would do some research in preparation but much like driving, he likes to "vibe" baking. he doesn’t follow any specific recipe.

• he would enjoy working together, dividing tasks, and making sure you both contribute equally to the baking process.

• after the baking is done, he'd insist on cleaning up together, making sure everything is as spotless as when you started.

derek pulled you into the kitchen, laughter bubbling between the two of you as you slid the tray of cookies into the oven. the smell of chocolate chip cookies filled the air. as the oven door clicked shut, a catchy tune began playing on the radio.

derek’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "dance with me," he said, not waiting for a reply as he took your hand and pulled you close.

you laughed, letting him guide you around the kitchen. "here? now?"

"why not?" his grin was infectious, and soon you found yourself swaying to the music. his strong hands were warm and sure, one on your waist and the other holding yours firmly.

he twirled you around, making you giggle. the tension from the day melted away as you danced, your movements light and easy in his embrace. the radio played on, and derek’s smooth moves made you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

"not bad, morgan," you teased, breathless from the impromptu dance.

"just don’t tell the team," he winked, dipping you slightly, his gaze locked onto yours.

the timer beeped, signaling the cookies were done. reluctantly, you both let go, the moment fading as you turned to the oven.

"thanks for the dance," he murmured, his voice soft.

"anytime," you replied, a smile lingering on your lips as you pulled the tray of cookies out, the warmth from the oven mirroring the warmth in your chest.

elle greenaway

• elle might suggest trying out a classic recipe with a twist, perhaps a family favorite or something she’s been wanting to experiment with.

• there’d be a playlist of her favorite songs playing softly in the background to keep the atmosphere relaxed and enjoyable.

• elle would enjoy the creative aspect of decorating the baked goods, whether it’s piping intricate designs on cookies or adding elegant touches to a cake.

• ahe might introduce you to unique ingredients or healthier alternatives, explaining their benefits and how they can enhance the recipe.

• she’d likely have a collection of favorite recipes and would enjoy swapping them with you, maybe even writing down the one you just made together.

as you finish the last dish, your hands still damp from the soapy water, you glance at the tres leches cake the two of you just made, your excitement barely contained. "elle, will you feed me a piece? my hands are still kind of wet"

elle grins mischievously, cutting a generous slice. "sure thing," she says, but instead of gently offering it to you, she slams the piece into your mouth and bolts from the kitchen, laughter echoing behind her.

you quickly grab a piece and sprint after her, your footsteps thudding through the apartment. you catch up to her in the living room, tackling her to the ground in a playful heap. she squeals as you pin her down, smearing the cake across her face in retaliation.

you both burst into laughter, the sound filling the room. you’re straddling her now, her eyes sparkling with joy. "how does it taste?" she asks between giggles.

you take a moment to savor the flavor before responding, "it’s pretty good, but i think i might need another taste." leaning down, you kiss her, tasting the sweetness of the cake mixed with the warmth of her lips. you pull back slightly, grinning. "i stand corrected. it’s delicious."

emily prentiss

• emily would start by meticulously organizing all the ingredients and tools, ensuring everything is in place before beginning.

• there would be some classic rock or her favorite tunes playing softly in the background, setting a relaxed and fun atmosphere.

• emily would pay close attention to the recipe, following it precisely. she might have a few favorite recipes she's perfected over the years.

• she would insist on tasting the batter or dough at various stages, making sure it's perfect before moving on.

• if something goes wrong, she’d stay calm and patient, encouraging you and finding a solution together.

• when it comes to decorating, emily has an eye for detail, making sure everything looks just as good as it tastes.

as the oven timer beeped insistently, you and emily pulled away from each other, the mix of chocolate and laughter lingering in the air. the cookies you had been so excited to bake were now blackened discs of charcoal, but neither of you seemed particularly bothered.

"you know, prentiss," you said with a grin, "this is exactly what happens every time we try to cook together."

emily raised an eyebrow playfully, a smirk tugging at her lips. "and why is that?"

"well," you continued, pretending to be serious, "it’s because you keep trying to kiss me. the food always suffers."

emily laughed, her eyes twinkling. "you kissed me first!"

before you could say another word, emily closed the gap between you, her lips capturing yours in an intoxicating kiss that made your head spin. when she finally pulled away, her eyes sparkled with mischief. "i guess we’ll just have to rely on that bakery around the corner."

you laughed, your senses still reeling from her kiss. "lead the way," you said, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the door.

jennifer "jj" jareau

• she would have a clear plan for what you’re baking, including a well-thought-out list of ingredients and steps.

• jj would likely start with a kitchen check, making sure all the utensils, mixing bowls, and ingredients are ready and within reach.

• as someone used to working under pressure, jj would likely keep things running smoothly, ensuring that everything is done in a timely manner.

• expect some unique twists on classic recipes, as jj would bring her creative side into the baking process.

• given her warm and approachable personality, there'd be plenty of light-hearted moments and encouragement throughout.

"alright, we need to make sure we have everything within reach before we start," jj says, scanning the kitchen with a critical eye. "can you grab that bowl for me? it’s a bit too high up."

"sure thing," you say, dragging over a small ladder. as you climb, you feel jj’s hands steadying you, her hands resting firmly on your ass.

you laugh, glancing down at her. "is this really necessary?"

"yes," she replies with a grin. "just grab the bowl."

you chuckle, reaching up and grabbing the bowl. as you step down, jj takes the bowl from you with a playful smile. "see? you can be helpful."

you roll your eyes, grinning. "glad i could assist, agent jareau."

jj laughs, setting the bowl on the counter. "let’s get baking, shall we?"

penelope garcia

• penelope would likely bring vibrant, playful recipes that reflect her quirky personality, perhaps including fun shapes, bright colors, and unique flavor combinations.

• expect upbeat music playing in the background, creating a lively, cheerful baking environment.

• penelope would add personal touches to the baking, like customized decorations or themed treats that reflect inside jokes or interests.

• the baking session would be filled with engaging stories, lots of laughter, and maybe even some spontaneous dance breaks.

• she’d be encouraging and enthusiastic, offering lots of positive reinforcement and making sure you’re having a good time.

you and penelope stood side by side in her kitchen, the aroma of sugar and butter filling the air. she was animatedly flipping through her phone, holding it up triumphantly. "trust me, this strawberry and vanilla swirl cake is going to be amazing. i saw this recipe on tiktok, and it’s supposed to be incredible."

you eyed the ingredients skeptically. "but we were planning on a classic marble cake. you know, chocolate and vanilla. it’s a safe bet."

penelope pouted playfully, her glasses sliding down her nose. "come on, just this once. i promise you’ll love it."

with a sigh, you finally relented. "alright, alright. let’s do the strawberry and vanilla."

an hour later, the cake was cooling on the counter, its swirls of pink and white creating a mesmerizing pattern. penelope handed you a fork with a grin. "time for the taste test."

you took a bite, and your eyes widened in surprise. the combination of sweet strawberry and creamy vanilla was unexpectedly delightful. "okay, i admit it. it’s really good."

penelope’s grin widened as she leaned in for a quick kiss. "i told you so."

spencer reid

• spencer would likely come prepared with research on baking techniques, ingredient substitutions, and even the history of certain recipes.

• he’d meticulously follow (or even improve) a recipe, explaining the science behind each step, from the role of baking powder to the importance of precise measurements.

• spencer might suggest experimenting with unusual ingredients or techniques, eager to test out new ideas and learn from the results.

• expect deep, engaging conversations on a variety of topics, from criminology to literature, as you bake together.

• he’d be attentive to every detail, ensuring that everything is measured accurately and timed perfectly.

as you and spencer knead dough together, his voice flows like a gentle stream. "did you know that flour has been used for thousands of years? the earliest evidence of flour comes from around 10,000 bc in the middle east. it was made from grinding grains between stones."

you watch him with a smile, his enthusiasm palpable. "really? i didn’t know that."

"yes! and the ancient egyptians were baking bread as early as 3000 bc. flour has been a staple for millennia. it's fascinating how something so simple can have such a rich history."

his excitement is endearing, and you can’t help but reach out with your flour-covered hand, patting him gently on the cheek. "you’re adorable when you get excited about these things."

spencer’s eyes widen in surprise, and he starts to laugh. "hey, wait a minute—"

before he can finish, you flick a bit of flour at him. his laughter turns into playful mock outrage, and he retaliates with a sprinkle of flour of his own. soon, the kitchen is filled with laughter and white dust as you both engage in a light-hearted food fight.

in the midst of the chaos, spencer grins at you, a streak of flour across his face. "well, at least we’ve added a new chapter to our flour history."

you laugh, catching a glint of his joy, and nod. "definitely a memorable one."

a/n: RAHH!!! thank you so much for 800 followers!!! i really appreciate all of the love and support. <33

[gojonanami]

SWEET NOTHING - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: satoru always comes running home to your sweet nothings -- except maybe this time. ✴︎ cw: spoilers for jjk 236, discussions of death, fluff, angst, implications of delulu twitter theories of survival ✴︎ wc: 1,175 ✴︎ song: sweet nothing by taylor swift

Satoru didn’t know when it happened.

But he had started running home to you far before the two of you shared one. 

Was it when Suguru left? Was it even before that? Or was he just always by your side at night, sneaking into your dorm room to sleep beside you. He’d tangle your limbs together so escape wouldn’t be easy for you, his face buried in the crook of your neck as you slept all too easy with him. Your soft pants and snores was the metronome that put him to sleep, the weight of your body was the only warmth he needed, and your quiet hums in the morning after he finally stirred was the thing that made him want to wake in the first place. 

“Morning,” you’d mumble, your voice all too thick with sleep, as you tried to pry yourself from exhaustion’s embrace, and he was too eager to help you with that — with sweet kisses and splayed fingers under your shirt. 

“It’s always a good morning baby,” he’d jokingly chide you, as he would kiss your neck, as you always made sure to say the phrase without the ‘good,’ if only to elicit his kisses (though he’d give them to you anyway), “cause I get to wake up with you,” 

Satoru didn’t kiss you for a long time — he couldn’t — he knew it was foolish to date anyone seriously — after everything ended in disaster with Suguru, he knew the burden of being the strongest was only his to bear — no one else’s. And besides, loving someone as Satoru Gojo was as good as taping a target to their chest, and he’d never do that to you — no matter how much he wanted to. 

But what could he do when you were the one to kiss him? Kissed him one night after the two of you shared a meal — barely a meal, scrambled eggs and bread — and he had cracked some stupid joke about Nanami that made you snort. And then you tried to shove him, but he caught your wrist, and you were close — too close because he could practically count the number of eyelashes on your eyelids. And right when sense was setting back in, and he was going to turn away, you kissed him. 

And he couldn’t turn away after that. He never could — you had pulled him into your orbit and now you were never gonna let him go. 

Not that he ever wanted you to. 

He’d come running to you, even after running away, because he couldn’t stay away. Because it was you. 

And it didn’t truly hit him, until he had come home this time, to the home you both had shared, and heard you in the kitchen, the faint sounds of clinking utensils and your humming. He removed his shoes, lips curling into a easy smile, as he stepped inside, opting to surprise you instead of announcing he was home. 

He whispered the words instead, “I’m home,” walking to find you just where he thought you would be. He leans against the doorframe, watching you hum along to whatever song was stuck in your head, as you prepared his favorites cake — only stopping when his arms wrapped around your middle, a small gasp on your lips that turns into a wide grin. 

“Toru—“ and his lips find yours, as they always did, and he could taste the sugar on your lips, but nothing was ever sweeter than you, “welcome home, baby,” 

And he gets the goofiest grin, as he sweeps you off your feet, making you yelp and laugh, a sound that vanished all the exhaustion of the world from his shoulders. From the industry disruptors, soul deconstructors to the voices that implore he should be doing more — only always taking more, and more, and more. But as he kisses your neck, the soft skin against his lips, only with you he could admit, he’s all too soft for it. And he could find more, more to life than the life that was stolen from him because of his abilities, the youth that he lost far too long ago, and the line he had drawn between him and the rest of the world. Because he wasn’t the strongest when he was with you — he was just Satoru Gojo.  

He buried his head in the nape of your neck, your arms curled around him, holding him impossibly closer, his breath tickling your skin, “I’m home now,” he whispers against you, eyes sinking shut. 

He spent his best moments in the company of your sweet nothings — your feet thrown over his as the two of you ate dinner on the couch, swiping food from your fork and stealing kisses between bites; the walks you took in the cool evenings, cicadas singing their symphony as the sun blazed against the sky in its final moments, where his six eyes would narrow to a pin, and all he would see was you; and the moments he spent beside you in bed, your touch, your presence, your being — the only thing he ever wanted to perceive with his entire being. 

Home was not a place, but it was you. And he had remarked that to you when you both were discussing the possibility of moving in the future and he had shrugged off giving suggestions. 

“Come on, Toru, there must be somewhere you’d want to live,” and his lips only curled, as he stared you — beautiful pout and all — and he knew his answer. 

“Home is anywhere you are, baby,” he leaned over and kissed your neck, “so pick anywhere in the world and I’d follow you in a heartbeat,” his hand guides your hand to his chest, “because it’s yours,” 

And now, it seemed like the end was coming. He had to leave home, and he couldn’t go home to your sweet nothings — he thought as he stared ahead at the sky. Death was painless — it was easy for the dead, they held the power over the living, of leaving before being left. But he had to leave his home behind, and he swore he could see your face, could hear your screams, your pleading, your cries. And it wasn’t only yours. His students. His friends. 

Was it enough to leave? He glanced at the departing flights in front of him, his smiling friends and the regrets that were lifting off his shoulders, and wondered was it time? 

And he saw your face again, two words on your lips, “come home,” 

And his lips curled into a smile, as his legs fell back, his fingers twitching, as they had done once before when he had fallen — fallen before the sorcerer killer. He would give it all up — his lower half topples over, closer, closer to his torso — give up all the power in the world to just be with you. And he swore away his six eyes in favor of two legs and one life—

He had to run home — home to your sweet nothings.  

☆ a/n: so i was listening to sweet nothing by t. swift on repeat and got super emotional thinking about how this song fits gojo while scrolling about post-236 fan theories, so this is the result.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

husband!Steve Harrington x housewife!reader

| When you fumble the home-cooked meal you attempted to bake for Steve, he doesn’t mind at all. In fact, the meal he really wanted was already waiting at home for him, all along… |

| And yes, I know the pic is from Marmalade and not Stranger Things, but it’s how Steve looked in my brain when I wrote this, so bite me 😊 |

The rain coming down over Hawkins was relentless. Heavy gray clouds obscured any chance of sunlight breaking through and warming the chilly April evening. A blanket of fog crept along the streets of downtown, slipping between houses and through windows left partially open.

One of those windows belonged to the house you shared with Steve. The chicken casserole you’d attempted to bake had ended in disaster, having literally ‘gone up in smoke.’ You wanted to surprise Steve with a home-cooked meal when he got home from work, because you felt a little guilty always ordering take out. You wanted to take care of Steve, to be the wife you knew he ‘deserved.’ Naturally, Steve already thought you were perfect just as you were, and told you as much, frequently. Still, doubt nagged at the back of your brain, and you wanted to make sure that Steve understood how proud you were to be his, that you wanted to be his perfect little housewife…

In spite of the chilly air that evening, you were forced to open the kitchen window. The rain smelled so sweet in contrast with the acrid scent of smoke filling the kitchen. The sound of Steve’s car pulling into the driveway caught your attention. You made your way to the front door, waving a dish towel as you walked, fanning away the last of the smoke. Steve’s keys made a jingling sound in the door; your heart skipped knowing he was right on the other side of it…

As soon as you saw Steve’s face, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. His eyebrows lifted in surprise when he noticed the smell of smoke in the house. “Did you uh-.” Steve chose his next words carefully. “-Light a candle, baby?”

You bit your bottom lip, an apologetic look on your face. “I wish that was the reason it smells so bad in here,” you replied. “But actually, I-.” You sighed. “I tried to make dinner, for a change. And it kind of exploded in the oven…”

Steve nodded, glancing behind you at the kitchen. He silently observed the aftermath of your work. Every utensil and baking dish you owned had seemingly been taken from the cabinets, considered, and then rejected to the counter. “It’s okay, baby,” Steve assured you, putting his arms around you. “We can order take out; it’s not a problem.”

You tried to let your anxieties fade, melting into the familiar comfort of Steve’s embrace. Holding your ear to his chest, you listened to his heartbeat, soothed by its steady rhythm, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“What sounds good?” Steve asked, placing a kiss in your hair. “Anything you want, and-.”

“I’m actually not really hungry anymore,” you said, your eyes cast downward. “I kind of lost my appetite, with all the smoke.” You chuckled a little, in spite of your disappointment. The bitter smell of smoke and burnt casserole still lingered in the air, but only a little. Not enough that it distracted Steve from how pretty you looked, your forehead lightly dotted with sweat, your hair disheveled and some stains on your pajama shirt from the mess you’d made while baking.

Steve’s eyes swept over you, a combined feeling of love and lust washing over him. That combination of feelings was exactly the reason Steve had fallen so hard for you, why he’d loved you more every day since, and why he’d eventually asked you to marry him.

He knew you were frustrated about the dinner mishap. Steve was a very intuitive husband, and always seemed to know what you needed even before you did yourself.

“Just order something for you this time, okay?” You gave Steve a quick kiss on the end of his nose.

“Well actually,” he replied. “There is something that I’ve really been craving.” He smiled. “Been thinking about it all day, actually…”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Okay,” you giggled. “Well then you absolutely need to eat it.”

Steve nodded, his tongue sweeping lightly over his lips. “Oh, I’m going to eat it,” he replied, his tone a shade darker. “But I don’t have to order out for it. What I want is already here.” A corner of Steve’s mouth curved upward in a suggestive grin. “At home...”

Oblivious to Steve’s meaning, you peered behind him at the burnt abomination casserole sitting on the kitchen counter. “Well I hope it’s not chicken casserole you’re craving,” you replied. “Because that thing I made is definitely not fit for human cons-.”

Steve cut your sentence short by tugging you closer, so your faces were less than an inch from one another. He softly pressed his lips to yours in a closed kiss. It was chaste, romantic, sweet; but laced with darker implications that had your pulse racing.

“I want you, baby,” Steve murmured, easing his body against yours. “You’re the sweetest meal a man could ever ask to come home to…”

You felt a little dizzy, and it certainly wasn’t because you’d missed dinner. Everything about Steve made you weak…but the way he could have your pussy dripping using words alone made you fall the hardest…

“Let me eat you,” Steve said tenderly, respectfully, as if he didn’t already have your absolute permission. “Please?”

You swallowed, steadying yourself, suddenly feeling very light on your feet, as if you could be swept away by the slightest breeze. “Mm-hmm,” you replied through closed lips, then spoke out loud “yes. Yes, please, Steve…”

His smile was exchanged for a look of something carnal, and it would probably have seemed predatory in any other context. But once Steve had your permission, he was completely absorbed in his pursuit of having you.

Your ass was on the couch within seconds, Steve kneeling at the floor between your legs. He kissed your knees, your thighs, working upward till he was nibbling at the waistband of your pajamas. Steve let his right hand drape lazily against his crotch, occasionally palming his erection through his pants.

His lips pressed soft and warm against your belly. Steve spread a trail of gentle kisses down your stomach, lingering above the waistband of your pajama pants. His pretty hazel eyes flicked up to meet yours briefly before he hooked a fingertip beneath the pajamas, and lightly tugged them down.

You shivered at the feeling of air on your newly-exposed skin, but Steve’s tongue warmed you up immediately. He licked soft, wispy stripes beside your clit, intentionally neglecting it, letting the pressure at your center build…sucking one of your lips between his, then releasing it with a wet pop. Your fingers went to Steve’s hair, threading his caramel strands. He dipped his nose between your labia, bumping his bridge against your clit, penetrating you gently with his tongue. Your back arched, pressing your cunt forward, burying Steve’s face even deeper between your thighs.

He groaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his mouth stimulating the inside and outside of your cunt, plumping your lips even fuller. The sound of Steve’s tongue pumping inside you squelched beautifully, combined with the delicate, breathy sounds you were making. He nuzzled even deeper between your thighs, the tip of his nose gliding between your pouty lips.

Steve seamlessly replaced his tongue inside you with two of his fingers, making you gasp at the new, firmer penetration. His tongue washed over your clit, bathing your cunt in a mix of his saliva and your cum. You could feel yourself getting close, but what you really wanted was to finish together with Steve inside you. Your hand left his hair for his shoulder, patting to get his attention as you breathlessly told him “Steve, Steve, need you, in-.” And before you could finish your request, Steve had already lifted your ass off the couch, pulling you down to meet the bulge straining at the front of his pants.

He fumbled slightly at getting his belt and pants undone, because he was in such a hurry. You reached for his cock and rubbed the outline of it, feeling it pulse under your touch. As soon as Steve’s dick was in reach of your mouth, you tugged him between your lips. With a hard suck, you took him all the way to the back of your throat in one gulp. Steve’s knees went shaky, his breath punched out of his lungs at the shock of hitting the back of your throat so unexpectedly, so quickly. Your gag reflex activated and you popped off Steve’s cock, a raw trail burning all the way up your throat. You laid back on the couch and spread your legs, eyes trained on Steve’s, a seductive grin turning your lips.

He shook his head, your slick dripping from his chin. “No,” Steve said, reaching for your hair and gently guiding your mouth back onto his cock. “Need more of that tight little throat-can’t suck me like that n’just take it back-.” Steve eased himself down the length of your throat, nudging the back with his tip. A low growl of pleasure rumbled from Steve’s chest, his fingers threading your hair. “God, just like that…keep sucking…FUCK-!”

Steve hurriedly pulled your lips off his cock and pushed your back against the sofa, mounting and entering you as quickly as he could. Your hands clutched Steve’s shoulders, holding on tight as he humped you like a desperate animal, punching his cock so deep inside you that his shaft was rubbing your cervix. When Steve came, he choked back a dry sob, his breath heating the skin at the base of your neck as he panted through his release. Sweat dripped from the ends of Steve’s hair and onto your chest as he carefully lifted himself off of you. He fell back onto the couch beside you, pulling a hand over his disheveled hair, his pants around his muscular thighs. You laid your head on Steve’s shoulder, tilting your face to gaze at him.

He noticed you staring, and smiled. “Now that was a home-cooked meal,” Steve said, attempting to catch his breath. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. You fell asleep on the couch, drifting away while listening to the sound of rain thrumming against the roof, and the muffled rhythm of Steve’s heartbeat…

[zibiscusloon]

Akhakajaajjka lord this is so in character for all of them- 😭😭😭

(I’m sorry but the one with Ross & Lilith completely did me in-)

The entirety of Hell at Ross & Lilith:

Some prompts I did with mutuals oc’s

(Oc’s belong to @zibiscusloon, @marshmallow-biscuit-blog, @iinksp1llz, @queenkittycat123 and me!)

Smithy: *sad about something*

Ron: oh, it’s ok, sweetie! Tomorrow will be better!^^

Smithy: really?

Vessel: we don’t know! :P

Ron: *punches vessel* >:(

-

Rooty: a dead end, I’m doomed!

Vessel: well, you lived a good life!

Rooty: I’m only 10!

Vessel: I said good, not long.😒

-

Vessel: thanks for the water, Spector. I dunno why I’m so parched!

Solone: you’re a thirsty bitch! :D

Blind Spector: solone-

-

Millie: uncle vessel, are YOU wearing a blindfold?

Vessel: haha, no, but with these cataracts I might as well be! *looks at windshield* what is that, a woodpecker? *hits wender*

-

Lilith: you dirty BITCH! Look what you’ve done to my peonies!

Ross: they’re marigolds!🙄

KD: by god, I think she’s right! They are marigolds!

Lilith: I may not know my flowers, but I know a bitch when I see one!! >:(

Ross: >:O

This is so stupid I’m sorry-