#Extra Spice you know

[d8tl55c]

[aheathen-conceivably]

Did someone say new Titanic CC? ✨

[ultramarinaa]

Also I don’t think anyone cares but just so you know whenever I draw John and Martin I think of them as John being partly Peruvian and Martin being part Polish (probably his deadbeat dad or something)

Definitely not projecting over here

[residentialsinyomakai]

Not sure I ever shared this shadow milk!! Will probs post the rest when I have,,,,motivation,,,zz,zzzz

[allfrogsmatter]

In starlit nights I saw you

So cruelly you kissed me

Your lips, a magic world

Through the thick and thin

He will wait until

You give yourself to him

₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊⊹ ₊

Playing around with editing my screenshots for a change (I am the laziest mf and never do anything but put text and psds) and I’m pretty happy with how these came out considering I was just fooling around with random features

Also lowk spoiler for Wasteland Babes far far in the future if I do what I’m starting to think I’ll do… heheheh

[onlyasimp4nobody]

I'm so bored ask me to rate ships or characters on anon

[peculiareyezer]

best thing about cooking for myself is putting whatever the hell i want in anything. i want to season my cheap as hell steak with rosemary and lavender? nobody can stop me and it tastes bangin'. i want fennel seeds, marjoram, and black spiced rum in my chili? yeahg. i brew chamomile tea and put sweetened condensed milk, hot cocoa powder, and elderflower liqueur in it? oooh baby. ooh yeah

[red-and-white-and-black-and-gold]

We’re playing Bayer Leverkusen in August let’s goooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[pokemonruby]

bg3 has done irreparable damage to my brain, i've never finished a game and immediately started a new playthrough. and now that i more or less know how to play it now it's been a lot more enjoyable. also the durge storyline has been so very fascinating and i'm excited to see where it goes.

[love-killed-the-superstar]

*peppers my turtletitanshipping playlist with some break up songs because of the inevitability of them having to part ways when the time portal is completed*

[aheathen-conceivably]

Sometimes all it takes is a good pose pack to make you revive your favs for a totally not spicy at all photoshoot.

So please have your Saturday boost of serotonin courtesy of Rosella and George, circa 1911 🌹

Bonus spicy content before the screen ~fades to black~ below the cut...

[mvncesa]

something about the idea of decker . wounded and-or out of it . snapping / lashing out at sb has a certain Spice to it

[unproduciblesmackdown]

waugh jenashtep's "happy 15 years since the final dress (rehearsal) of bloodsong of love" posting....oh to be permanently bloodstained from front rows splatter in this show, or from front back row "brent stranathan being in the onstage band & pointing out his drum during bmc still with some bloodstains from jeremy morse who in turn blames the Blood Cannon but also jenashtep saying turkey leg had blood effects & i'm Dying to know how that goes down ha ha (standing in the front row titanicking into henchman steve's blood cannon spray. i'd also die for so many of these Scenes Seen including jeremy morse lo cocodrilo getting up to the kazoo entr'acte alone which then also goes right into lifechanging scenes with henchman steve like good lord is that stretch a wonder of our times)"

wait yeah & a pic that shows at least One treadmill in the stage, in the lower left Protrusion:

[sakuraszn]

ft. timeskip katsuki bakugo

summary: you and katsuki got into a fight last night but he’s not leaving the next day without his kiss.

“You Still Mad?”

The sun had barely risen, casting a warm, hazy glow through the bedroom window, but you were still wrapped up in last night’s argument like a thick-ass winter coat. You hadn’t even looked at Bakugo since you both woke up, let alone spoken a word to him.

He noticed. Of course, he did.

Now, he stood by the front door, arms crossed, already in his hero gear, watching you with narrowed crimson eyes. His gauntlets hung from his belt, meaning he was giving you extra time before heading out.

“Tch,” he sucked his teeth. “You still actin’ like that?”

You didn’t answer, just sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone, legs tucked under you.

Bakugo took a slow step forward, then another. “Y’know I ain’t leavin’ without my shit, so you might as well quit actin’ funny.”

Silence.

His jaw twitched. “Oh, so we playin’ this game?”

Still nothing.

Bakugo exhaled sharply through his nose before yanking his gloves tighter. “Alright.”

Before you could react, he marched over, plucked the phone right out of your hands, and tossed it onto the couch.

“The fu—Bakugo!” You snapped, looking up at him.

“There it is.” He smirked, tilting his head. “Finally got your attention.”

You folded your arms, scowling. “You really that pressed over a damn kiss?”

He scoffed, looking down at you like you were the dumbest person alive. “Uh, yeah? That’s my good luck for the day. You want me out there fightin’ villains without my daily dose of you?”

Your lips twitched, but you forced the smile down, turning your head away from him.

Bakugo, not having any of that, leaned down, caging you in with his arms on either side of you. “Oh, so now you mute?”

You rolled your eyes. “Katsuki, go to work.”

“You know I’m not leavin’ without my shit.”

He was so close, his breath tickled your skin. His scent—warm spice and a little bit of leftover sleep—wrapped around you. You hated how familiar it was, how much you’d miss it if he actually left without kissing you goodbye.

“Why do you even care?” You muttered. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you say that,” he murmured, fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your face up. “But I know you. You don’t wanna be mad anymore.”

You huffed, but his touch was soft, gentle. A contrast to how brash he usually was.

His thumb traced your bottom lip. “Lemme fix it.”

Before you could protest, he kissed you. Slow. Deep. It wasn’t just some quick peck or heated make-out session. It was that I-know-you-love-me-so-stop-frontin’ kinda kiss.

And, like a damn fool, you melted into it.

His hands slid down, gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. His lips moved with yours, lazy but demanding, like he had all the time in the world. Then, right when he knew he had you, SMACK.

His palm connected with your ass, making you gasp into his mouth.

Bakugo smirked against your lips. “There she is.”

You shoved at his chest, but he barely budged. “Your so damn annoying.”

“Yeah?” He nipped at your lip before pulling back, smug as ever. “But you still love me.”

You exhaled, finally giving in. “Yeah, yeah. I love you.”

“Damn right you do.” He leaned down, stealing one more kiss, slow and sweet, before finally stepping back.

You watched as he grabbed his gauntlets and strapped them on, the usual cocky attitude in full effect. Right as he reached the door, he turned back, grinning. “Oh, and don’t think I didn’t catch that lil’ smile. You ain’t slick.”

You rolled your eyes, but he saw the way you bit your lip.

Bakugo chuckled, shaking his head. “See you later, dumbass.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you sitting there, heart still racing.

© sakuraszn! xoxo

[majoryeager104]

Sick Katsuki, who tried everything outside of medicine to fix how he was feeling. A shower, some tea, he even reduced the spice level of his ramen to have a nice relaxing meal instead for dinner the other night. But nonetheless, he had a fever.

Sick Katsuki, who stayed in his room, texting Kirishima for notes and ignoring you. There was no way he’d get you sick, and he knew for a fact that if you found out about his current state you’d try to help, and before you know it you too would be feverish. That was an absolute no.

Sick Katsuki, who instead had Mina keep you busy, sending her money to spend on you all around town. Mina of course did her job perfectly, with the singular issue that once you got back you came up to Katsukis dorm to show him all the stuff you’d gotten that day.

Sick Katsuki, who tried to act normal when you did, but couldn’t really hide his extra hoarse voice and glassy eyes. Every time you questioned why he wasn’t at class, he just deflected and said he didn’t feel like going. You knew him too well for that.

Sick Katsuki, who winced when you immediately checked his temperature after that half-assed attempt at hiding it. He tried to get you to leave, not wanting to get you sick, or for you to take care of him. All you responded with was a flick to the forehead as you went downstairs to find him some medicine

[kateschi]

second helpings

synopsis: he owns the kitchen—until you quietly claim a corner of it, and he is enjoying it more than he lets on.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: been gone a while. had ran out of ideas but here we go

you don’t cook often.

not because you can’t, but because he always beats you to it.

katsuki treats his kitchen like a battlefield—controlled, efficient, and his.

he moves like he’s been doing it his whole life, sleeves pushed up, jaw set in focus, the faint smell of spices clinging to his shirt even after he’s done.

it’s something he enjoys, something he’s good at, and he rarely lets you lift a finger when it comes to meals.

so when you tell him, “i made something for you,” you expect a scoff, a teasing remark, maybe even a lecture about how he should be the one cooking for you.

what you don’t expect is for him to hesitate.

it’s barely noticeable, but you catch it—the slight pause, the flicker in his expression before his arms cross over his chest.

“you what?”

you huff, nudging the bowl toward him, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “i cooked something for you.”

his red eyes flick down, scanning the dish like he’s assessing its structural integrity.

it’s nothing fancy—just something simple you put together while he was out. but his fingers twitch slightly, like he’s holding himself back from reaching for it immediately.

“…what’s the occasion?”

you blink at him. “nothing. just wanted to.”

his brows furrow slightly, like he doesn’t quite understand the concept of someone cooking for him just because they felt like it.

but after a moment, he exhales through his nose, jaw shifting as he grabs the chopsticks.

“you didn’t have to, y’know.”

you smile, resting your chin on your hand. “I know.”

he doesn’t say anything else before taking a bite.

the first one is quick—just a taste.

then the second comes almost immediately after, slower this time, more thoughtful. his chewing slows just a fraction—contemplative. his brows furrow, but not in a bad way.

he’s thinking.

then, without a word, he goes for a third bite.

you watch him, amusement curling at your lips. “well?”

he chews, swallows, and sets his chopsticks down with a casual motion.

“…it’s good.”

you stare.

then squint.

“just good?”

his ears tint the faintest shade of pink, and he scowls, looking at anything but you. “what, you want a damn trophy?”

you snort, shaking your head. “a simple ‘thanks’ would work.”

his mouth presses into a tight line, and for a second, you think he might just grumble his way out of this. but then, just barely above a mutter—

“thanks.”

your grin widens, warmth blooming in your chest as he goes back to eating, and even though he doesn’t say anything else, you don’t miss the way he finishes every last bite.

it happens again.

not immediately, but enough that it starts to become a habit.

one night, you make an extra portion without thinking, setting it aside without a second thought.

another night, you leave something for him when you know he’s coming home late, the dish waiting on the counter like a quiet reassurance that he isn’t alone.

you don’t always expect a reaction, but you always get one—even if it’s just a muttered “’preciate it” or the way his shoulders shift ever so slightly when he sees what you’ve left for him.

and then, one evening, you catch him sneaking extra bites.

you’re pretending not to watch, seated at the kitchen counter with a drink in hand, your body angled just enough to keep him in your peripheral vision.

katsuki eats like he always does—quick but deliberate, each motion efficient, no wasted movements.

his back is straight, his expression unreadable as he makes his way through the plate of curry you set in front of him.

then, the second you turn your head—

a blur of movement. a quiet clink.

your eyes snap back to him.

katsuki freezes, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, a second helping clearly stolen from the pot sitting on the stove.

his jaw tightens as he chews, his expression carefully neutral, but you don’t miss the way his fingers tighten slightly around his chopsticks.

your brows lift. “did you just steal extra?”

a beat of silence.

then, his red eyes flick up to yours, his chewing slowing slightly as he glares, unimpressed. “what?”

your gaze drops to the now slightly emptier pot.

a slow grin spreads across your face.

“you did.”

he scowls, shoving another bite into his mouth like it’ll somehow erase the evidence. “it’s good. so what?”

you rest your chin on your palm, amusement flickering in your eyes. “you could just ask for more, you know.”

he clicks his tongue, gaze flicking to the side, suddenly finding the tiled floor far more interesting. “dunno what you’re talkin’ about.”

after that, you start paying more attention.

to the things he likes, the things he doesn’t say outright but that you pick up on anyway.

you learn that he prefers meals fresh off the stove, that he eats fast but never wastes a single bite. that he loves spice—but sometimes, just sometimes, it even gets to him.

you catch the way he drinks more water when it does, the slight furrow of his brows when the heat creeps up on him.

“you good?” you ask once, watching as he takes another gulp of water.

he clicks his tongue, setting the glass down with more force than necessary. “’course I’m good.”

you just shake your head, amused.

even when he’s exhausted, dragging himself through the door after a long shift, he still eats whatever you make. no complaints, no hesitations.

just a quiet moment where his shoulders loosen and he sits down without a word.

and no matter how much he huffs and grumbles, no matter how much he acts like it’s nothing—

he never says no to your cooking.

one night, he comes home later than usual.

you’re already half-asleep on the couch, curled under a blanket, when you hear the door open.

heavy boots thud against the floor, the familiar sound of him kicking them off near the entrance. there’s a rustle of fabric as he shrugs off his hero jacket, the soft clink of his gear being set aside.

then—

a pause.

you blink groggily, rubbing your eyes as you push yourself upright. “katsuki?”

he doesn’t answer right away. just stands there, his gaze fixed on the covered dish waiting on the counter.

his shoulders loosen slightly, the exhaustion still clinging to him, but there’s something softer in the way he moves now, like the sight of the meal has pulled some of the weight off his shoulders.

“…you made somethin’?”

you yawn, stretching your arms above your head. “yeah. thought you might be hungry.”

he doesn’t say anything at first. just strides toward you, stopping in front of the couch, and before you can react—warm lips press against the top of your head.

it’s quick, fleeting, but it lingers in the way his breath ruffles your hair right after.

his voice is quieter this time. “thanks.”

your chest feels light, a soft warmth settling beneath your ribs, but before you can process it, he’s already moving again. he grabs the plate, lifts the lid, and takes in the meal.

then, he makes his way back to you, dropping onto the couch beside you.

his thigh presses against yours, his body radiating warmth, and then an arm drapes over your shoulders, pulling you in.

you blink, a little surprised, but you don’t resist, sinking into him as he picks up his spoon.

he eats in steady bites, quiet, comfortable. then, without a word, he scoops up another bite and holds the spoon out to you.

you hesitate for half a second. “you don’t have to—”

“just eat.”

you huff, but open your mouth anyway, letting him feed you.

the flavors settle on your tongue, familiar and warm, but you barely notice because katsuki’s watching you now, eyes flicking over your face like he’s waiting for your reaction.

you chew, swallow, then smile a little. “tastes good.”

his mouth twitches, and he clicks his tongue, looking away. “’course it does. you made it.”

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