#I only have one pan so had to do over two batches

[so-much-for-subtlety]

I’m making Julia Louis-Dreyfus’s carrot cake!

[alchemistc]

Tommy ignores the knock at his door. He's in day three pajamas and the only person who might make the effort to check in on him is his exes best friend. Which.

The knocking continues.

It's getting louder.

There's a Kings game on in the background and he's been elbow deep in the Jeep manual he'd finally cracked open in some sort of weird, fucked up pattern of mourning.

Tommy's never gonna buy a fucking Jeep. He hates them. You own one for more than five years and more than half the parts are replacement parts.

He's been staring at a diagram of the timing belt for half an hour, at least. The last thing he remembers about the game is Kuemper letting in three goals on five shots and somehow the Kings are up two, now, and there's still 25 minutes of game time left.

Tommy reaches for the remote. Turns the volume up.

The knocking returns less than a minute later.

---

There's a box of odds and ends tucked under the table in his entryway. He avoids looking at it. He knows there are a few things missing from it and he really doesn't want to examine what he'll have to do to avoid giving it to Eddie tonight. He cut the cords, he shouldn't be lingering watching the frayed edges sway in the wind, clutching his line like there's anything braced on the other side of it.

Evan's oldest, softest LAFD hoodie, the one that's technically too small for both of them but has stretched shockingly evenly and is definitely not sitting unwashed at the bottom of Tommy's laundry basket. The program from a recital of Denny's they'd stopped by to support him for, on their way out of town for a long weekend. Evan's stupid keto bread and the milk frother he'd left behind three months ago and never bothered to grab because he had more than one.

Whoever is at his door is still fucking knocking, and suddenly Tommy doesn't feel like being polite. He'll shove the box in Eddie's arms and tell him to fuck off and close the last few remaining open doors he has to this.

Only when he swings the door wide it's not Eddie on the other side, and the box nearly takes out whatever Evan - Buck, Jesus Christ - has in his own arms.

Not a Tommy box - too small for all the shit that he'd left behind. He misses the house slippers that had had a permanent spot tucked under the left side of the bed.

Tommy flinches, reels away, tries to shove the box away before Buck can see its contents.

"What are you doing here?" Even tone. No quiver in his voice. He's been called rude and dismissive for less.

Buck scowls. Hefts the rectangular dish in his hands and shoves past Tommy before Tommy can blink.

It's silly to say he chases after him, down the hallway towards the kitchen, but he's not exactly following along behind at a casual leisurely pace.

The glass pan slams down on his kitchen counter and Buck spends a minute staring at the calendar he was only getting two months out of because he couldn't look at the one with all Buck's notes penned in anymore.

"Wow," Buck says, and shifts his weight awkwardly.

"What are you -?"

"Jee and I made you birthday cupcakes," Buck says. His voice is hard. Angry. Hurt. "Happy birthday, asshole."

---

He cracks the lid and there are only three cupcakes inside. Tommy forgets himself. Raises a brow, amusement rolling over him pleasantly, prepared to tease him, but then he catches the set of Buck's legs and the curl of his mouth and the tight way his arm tucks itself back in against his belly, a protective gesture that reminds Tommy very effectively what this is.

"Why?" Tommy wonders aloud, and Evan's scowl deepens.

Buck's scowl.

God.

"We've been planning it for weeks." Something flashes across his eyes before he schools his features. "Jee made me promise to bring you some."

"She must not be a skilled baker," Tommy jokes. "If these are the only ones that made it."

Evan's expression twists. "I ate most of them."

The frosting looks fresh. No creases in the paper cup holding them together.

"I had to make a new batch of frosting because I used some of it for -." He cuts himself off. Looks like he'd like to throw it in Tommy's face but can't quite force himself to hurt Tommy.

It hurts as much as he'd expected, anyway.

The world is a small place. It's not the first time he's had to speak to an ex when he didn't want to. It's never pleasant.

This is worse. The cut and run is supposed to give him time.

Evan Buckley has been an ache behind his ribcage for months, now, long before he'd made that final decision. He'd known it was too little too late. Buck's gonna be the shadow other men see behind his eyes for years.

Buck's apparently found and slept with someone within the week and a half span from Tommy walking out to his sad shitty mopey birthday.

That he'd forgotten about.

Tommy leans in. Picks up a cupcake. Licks a stripe through the frosting and makes a face when he realizes it's buttercream.

"The ones you were supposed to get had the whipped cream one you like," Buck says, accusingly.

That somehow stings just a little bit extra.

Tommy pulls back the paper, takes a bite. There's raspberry filling inside, and Tommy can feel tears prickling at the edges of his eyes, because when he'd told Evan about how his grandma baked he'd been thinking of Evan being a grandparent, the kind of shit he'd forbidden himself from imagining with anyone he was dating years ago.

"Thank you," he manages, and Buck frowns.

"He thought the whipped cream was too sweet." And Tommy probably deserves this but he's not particularly in the mood.

"Cut it out, Buck."

Buck rolls his jaw. "I just figured you'd wanna know how it's going. Maybe I could tally up the hookups for you, count them all up by gender and stamina and opinions on how I should feel and act and fall for someone. Find out if I'm actually gay enough to be a man's last."

---

The rest of the cupcake kind of collapses and oozes as Tommy smacks it down on the counter. He takes thirty seconds to pull the other two cupcakes out before he's grabbing the too-large fake Pyrex and turning heel. The keto bread goes in the pan. Then the milk frother.

Tommy yanks the recital program off the fridge and tosses it in the trash.

Buck almost looks triumphant.

"The box under the side table has the rest. You can see yourself out."

He actually does exactly as he's told, and Tommy listens to his footsteps drift off, shoulders hunched in and the breath tight in his throat. He'd been cruel, it was only fair Buck got a few final kicks in.

Tommy sucks in a breath and blinks away the moisture at the edges of his vision.

The footsteps take a heel turn at the side table and turn right back around.

"This isn't everything."

Tommy half expects some panned comment about how Tommy's got his heart - the kind of silly shit he'd say to a dead outlaw.

"My sweatshirt," Buck says, and Tommy freezes.

He could lie. He could pretend he had no idea where it was. Claim he didn't remember it even being here, because that particular piece of clothing did have a tendency to travel.

He doesn't fucking want to hand that one over.

Buck smirks, like he's caught the crack, and is looking for ways to exploit it.

"I own my own house!" Tommy says, and it's a terrible launching point but Buck latches on.

"You just left, Tommy! I know I jumped the gun, Tommy, but you didn't even - you just left! I'm sorry, okay. I'm sorry I didn't know I was into men until you. I'm sorry you had to be my first, I'm sure that must have been such a burden for you."

"That's not fair."

"You didn't even give me a chance. That was - I'm so angry with you, Tommy. I'm so fucking mad."

"I know."

"But that's what you planned for, right? That's - you ripped the bandaid, Tommy, except there's a whole fucking untreated stab wound right underneath and it's still bleeding, Tommy."

"Did you even make this round of cupcakes with your niece?" It's better to keep his family's names out of his mouth. Just keep those ties cut.

Buck looks livid. "No, you idiot, I whipped up a tiny batch of this recipe just for the excuse to see you and - and tell you what a stupid, awful coward you are."

"That's not f-." He isn't sure whether Buck is being facetious about the small batch thing or not. He doesn't have any time to think about it.

"My sister and Chim are having another baby. Bobby and Athena are probably gonna host Christmas this year. Eddie shaved off the mustache and he's, like, dancing now, I guess. Hen and Karen are good for the first time in -." He shakes his head. Stares at Tommy. Tommy can't quite hide from that gaze. "We were good, Tommy. We were - you loved me."

He'd never said the words. Neither had Evan, but they'd both known. Both felt it. Tommy let it go too far, did it scared for longer than he usually would.

"It's not like that just went away when I walked out, Evan," Tommy hisses, and then regrets it immediately.

Evan has spent most of this visit pushing, pressing, digging fingers into the wound to make it hurt.

Evan goes silent now, reeling back a little. He seems shocked that Tommy had admitted it.

"I want you to go," Tommy says. "I need you to go, Buck."

It was the right dagger the first time, but apparently it's only effective once.

"I love you too, you know." His voice is soft. Tommy can't meet his eye. "And I hate you. I hate you even though I know that's what you wanted but I love you too much to not hate you out of spite."

Tommy knows if he caves it's done. He's signing himself over to whatever fucked thing will end them a week, a month, five years, two decades from now.

"Go home, Buck. Hate me there."

---

He goes in for the kill.

"I called Abby, two nights ago."

Right for the jugular. No survivors.

"She laughed for like twenty minutes, and then she tried to get me to chat about our sex life for comparison, and then she was shocked silent for a full minute when I wouldn't." Because Evan had always been a little too open about those details. "She also told me she forgave you but she doesn't think you ever forgave yourself."

Tommy agrees. For all that they'd been terrible for each other, they'd known how the hell to take care of one another like no one's business.

"I want you to go," Tommy says, steady, quiet, nearly a snark for how deep his voice goes to hide the tremor in it.

Buck cocks a hip against the doorframe. "I want my sweatshirt."

The breath that escapes him is shaky, but her think he hides most of it behind the hand over his face, the finger pinched at the bridge of his nose.

"I can't do this."

"Exactly how many men and women do I have to fuck before you believe the future I'm looking at is with you?"

"All of them! None! It was a stupid thing to say and it's not what I meant and I can't do this."

Buck spins on his heel. Grabs the box he'd set aside and hefts it up into his arms. "I'm coming back for my sweatshirt," he says. "You let me know whether you want to talk about the data points of the sexuality spreadsheet or about us."

"There is no us, Buck." His voice sounds defeated even to himself.

"If that was true you'd just give me the stupid sweater and be done."

Tommy sits in silence. He does not get up to retrieve the hoodie. Buck is still angry, but his smile is wide and bashful.

Tommy listens to his footsteps trail down the hall, towards the door, out of it. He hears the Jeep's ignition catch, the wheels roll off the drive.

He realizes he'd left the goddamn Jeep manual open on the timing belt page, right there on his side table where he'd pointed out the things he wanted Evan to take to clear him from his life.

---

There is someone knocking at his door.

Tommy doesn't quite ignore it.

He hid the sweatshirt in one of his toolbox drawers when Evan texted him this morning to let him know he'd be over with a six pack and a pot of chili.

There's a zero percent chance Evan's getting that sweatshirt back, tonight.

[girlrotterr]

But I'm a Lesbian! pt.3

ellie x abby x dina x fem!reader a/n: a shorter chapter! But I promise chapter 4 will definitely be longer! anyways, enjoy angels! 💗

→ Part one! → Part two! → Part four! → Part five! → Part six!

Suddenly, like a starting gun had been fired, the four of you sprang into action. It was a dash to the showers, with elbows bumping and bodies jostling as you all struggled to be the first one in.

Abby, with her speed and strength, managed to dart ahead, closely followed by Ellie. You and Dina were neck and neck, both determined not to be left behind. In the chaos, you stumbled over each other's feet, arms flailing as you tried to maintain your balance.

"Watch it!" Ellie grumbled as she tried regaining her balance.

Eventually, you all reached the showers, each claiming a stall with exhaustion. The sound of rushing water filled the air as you quickly stripped off your clothes and stepped into the warmth. 

With only a few minutes to spare, you all hurriedly scrubbed yourselves clean, trying to make every second count.

“Fuck! Does anyone have shampoo?!" Ellie yelled, shaking her empty bottle in frustration.

"I do!" you exclaimed, quickly grabbing your shampoo bottle and rushing over to Ellie's stall. 

Ellie's eyes widened seeing you approach, her initial reaction being to dart her gaze away, her face turning a deep shade of red. 

fuckk..you were naked.

Without hesitation, you squeezed a generous amount of shampoo into her waiting hand. 

“t-thanks..” Ellie stammered, her voice slightly shaky. 

"I think I need some too~," Dina purred, her voice flirtatious, waving her hand dramatically as if in desperate need.

"Shit, me too!" Abby chimed in, her head popping out of her stall, trying to catch sight of you.

"You're both so unoriginal," Ellie grumbled, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

"I'll be right there!" you replied, turning around to share shampoo with Abby and Dina.

Ellie's gaze lingered on you for a moment, eyeing the way your hips swayed, the curves of your body traced by droplets of water. The softness of your skin, illuminating in a soft glow. There was a certain beauty in your movements, a grace that captured her attention. 

She craved to discover it. 

───

Soon enough, you found yourselves in the cooking classroom, greeted by the aroma of various ingredients. Rows of kitchen stations awaited, each equipped with utensils, pots, and pans. 

The teacher, a seasoned chef, greeted the four of you. “Hello, ladies! Today, we'll be making some classic breakfast dishes," she announced. 

"It's important to start every day with a nutritious meal, especially for your husband," she added with a wink. 

The four of you blankly stared at her. 

The teacher clapped her hands, signaling the start of the cooking session. "Right then! Chop, chop!"

"Just follow my lead," Dina reassured, playfully smacking your ass before guiding you to the station next to hers.

Ellie took charge of cracking eggs, her movements precise and efficient. Abby occupied the stove, flipping pancakes with a flick of her wrist. 

Dina always experimented with different ingredients, adding a dash of spice here and there to enhance the flavors. As for you, your focus was on whipping up a batch of fluffy scrambled eggs, gently stirring them in a skillet.

"Here," Dina said, pausing her tasks and stepping behind you, "You'll hurt your wrist if you do it like that."

She gently took hold of your hand, her touch delicate yet firm. Her fingertips tracing along your skin, leaving a trail of warmth. As she leaned closer, her chest pressed against your back, you could feel the heat radiating from her body.

Your palms grew moist with sweat, and a slight tremble ran through your fingers. Flustered, you struggled to maintain composure, your cheeks warming with a faint blush. 

"Oh," you murmured, turning to meet her gaze, "thank you."

Dina smiled warmly. "You’re so cutee!!" she remarked, pulling you into a tight hug. "Marry mee!!” 

Just then, the cooking instructor approached Abby,  “Abby, the nurse needs you,"

Abby glanced up from her station, faking a face of concern. "What for?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron.

The teacher shrugged. "I'm not sure, but she sounded urgent. You better go check."

"Alright," she nodded at the instructor before turning to the rest of you. "Catch you later, guys," she said with a smirk.

The three of you exchanged knowing glances.

"Mhm.." Dina remarked, her tone suspicious.

───

Thud!

With a forceful slam, the nurse's back collided with the wall, a small whimper escaping her lips as Abby pressed her against it. The nurse's eyes widened in surprise, her breath hitching as she felt Abby's strong grip on her wrists.

Abby leaned in closer, her voice low and seductive. "You’re so fucking impatient.." she whispered, her breath warm against the nurse's ear.

The nurse's cheeks flushed crimson, excitement coursing through her veins. She struggled to find her words, her heart pounding in her chest. Before she could respond, Abby's lips crashed against hers in a hungry kiss, sending a surge of pleasure. The nurse squeezed her thighs together, her hands reaching up to tangle in Abby's hair.

As their lips parted, the nurse's breath came out in ragged gasps, her eyes glazed with desire. "I-I needed you," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

Abby flashed her a grin, her eyes burning with desire. "fuckk…" she murmured, trailing kisses along the nurse's neck. “Let's see how long you last this time."

───

Dina leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye. “I've been thinking," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sizzling of the stove.

You and Ellie exchanged curious glances, waiting for Dina to continue.

"We should sneak into the director's office tonight and steal back our stuff," Dina proposed, a smirk plastered on her lips.

Ellie crossed her arms, her expression firm. "Fuck no." 

"What?! Why not?" Dina whined, clearly disappointed. 

Ellie sighed, "I'm already three strikes down," 

"We won't get caught if we plan it!" Dina insisted, nudging Ellie's arm. 

You nodded in agreement with Dina, "She's right, Ellie," you chimed in, "We'll plan it out and make sure everything goes smoothly. We won't leave any evidence behind."

Ellie raised an eyebrow, surprised by your willingness to participate. 

"Come onn, El's!" Dina groaned,  "Don't you want your finger—"

"Okay!" Ellie interrupted, cutting Dina off before subjecting her to more teasing. "But you owe me a pack of cigarettes.." she huffed in annoyance.

Dina grinned. "deal!" she replied cheerfully.

A sudden small buzzing sound caught Ellie's attention, a tickle on her right shoulder. She glanced over to see a pesky fly. 

"Don't move," you whispered urgently, eyeing the fly.

Dina, sensing an opportunity, slowly raised her hand, ready to swat the fly. But just as she made her move, the fly darted away, escaping her grasp.

"Damn it!" Dina exclaimed in frustration, waving her hand through the air attempting to catch it. 

The fly continued to buzz around the kitchen. Ellie, determined to get rid of it, swatted at the air wildly. You, too, joined in the frenzy, swinging a dish towel in an attempt to kill it. 

“Don’t let it land on the food!” Dina urged. 

In your frantic attempts to catch the fly, bottles of oil and water were knocked over, creating a slippery mess on the floor. Ellie, caught off guard by the slick surface, slipped and crashed to the ground with a loud thud. 

“Argh! Damn it!” Ellie groaned in pain.

Meanwhile, your efforts caused water to splash onto a cooking pot, leading to a sudden burst of sizzling oil that sent you yelping in pain. 

“Ouch!” you shouted, stumbling back and landing on top of ellie.

Amidst the chaos, everyone momentarily forgot about the bacon, sizzling on the hot stove. It was beginning to burn, filling the kitchen with thick smoke that billowed up toward the ceiling.

“Hey guys,” Dina called out amidst the commotion, “Something’s burning..”

Abby walked back into the kitchen, disheveled with lipstick marks scattered across her neck. “Hey guys, I’m back...” her voice trailed off. 

She stood frozen for a moment, taking in the utter chaos that had unfolded while she was gone. 

Ellie was still on the floor, rubbing her bruised body, while Dina was frantically trying to clean up the spilled oil and water, her clothes stained and her hair in disarray. Whilst frantically trying to dodge splattering oil from the pot. You were scrambling to turn off the stove, desperately trying to salvage whatever remained of the bacon.

“What the fuck happened?!” Abby exclaimed, slowly walking over

Before anyone could respond, the sprinkler system activated, sending gushes of water down from the ceiling. Abby stood frozen in shock as she was drenched by the downpour, her already disheveled appearance now completely soaked.

The kitchen descended into madness as everyone scrambled to avoid the flood of water, slipping and sliding on the now-slippery floor. Ellie let out a frustrated groan, while Dina cursed loudly, and you desperately tried to shield the food from the onslaught of water.

Abby shook her head in disbelief, “I should’ve just stayed for round two..” 

[daisy-does-art-and-stuff]

I GATHERED ALLLLL MY EVIDENCE TOWARDS THERE BEING AN ACT THREE

ITS UNDER READ MORE BC THERES A LOT MORE SPOILERS THAN MY LAST COUPLE POSTS

every finale for every season had a panning shot of the sky with "the end" showing up in black text. we didnt get that in this episode (https://x.com/goblonglo/status/1845168766839046382)

all the plotholes?? the things left unfilled?? there is no way theyd leave it off so open-ended. even hfjones ending had more closure

most movies have 3 acts. the 2nd act is known for being the part where everything seems hopeless and theres no saving them. we're still in the "all is lost" portion yall!!

there was a member that said something along the lines of "keep an eye out for what mores to come" in a tweet that was deleted not long after it was made. this implies They werent meant to spoil that there was more coming (https://x.com/meepletism/status/1845164453970706672, https://x.com/eyewellduh/status/1845156100779180075)

no one has ever had a solid answer whether or not there was only act 1 and act 2. not anyone has said a word about it yet. sure, theres no confirmation, but theres also no denying

the entire "how bow got her tail" thing. every time they made her start talking about it, it cuts away. we dont now whats up with that yet, which implies that it spoils what its gonna be used for in the future

THEY JUST HIRED NEW ANIMATORS!!! like LITERALLY just hired a big batch of new animators. there is no way that they did it just for one last part of the series just to end it so soon.

in the post where they promoted the release of ii17 on twitter, it states the series CONTINUES, not CONCLUDES. if you look back on old posts, like the one from the iii finale, it states in big bold letters THIS IS THE END IT ENDS HERE but it doesnt do that (https://x.com/AnimationEpic/status/1845134881098961164, https://x.com/AnimationEpic/status/1764314840410021903)

kinda hand in hand with above but the description of this video compared to other finale episodes looks like just a normal episode. theres no "thanks for watching the series" or anything. the ii team wouldnt just Leave it off like that i dont think

adams account being deactivated over on twitter due to his whole "running away from mephoneX" thing has to be relevant right. they have to reactivate it at some important point. like when act 3 comes out? right??

i cant think of anything more if anyone else has something to add please do so. also if theres anything here that doesnt make sense i apologize my brain is in such a whirlwind

editting this for a few new reasons

11. every season so far has had 18 episodes (if you dont count the iii finale being broken into two separate episodes). we're currently at 17

12. brian asked to contact someone in regards to credit sequences which is Probably in relation to the ii finale. we havent seen that yet so either it wasnt for ii or theres Another Episode for us to See It In. proof in posts comments

13. in the last meetups, a suitcase plush was hinted at. theyve also talked about the plush on stream. we havent been advertised this plush yet so theyre likely saving it for the last episode

[aesthetic-bbyg]

A LITTLE TREAT ~ Sanji

LA!Sanji x fem baker!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, oral (f!receiving)

Nattie speaks: Smash

THE TWO OF YOU CROWDED THE small kitchen with both yourselves and the large amount of utensil splayed out on the counter. You crouched under his arm as he sizzled a dish on the stove, hurryingly whisking together the mix within your bowl. You’re apron was stained with flower, egg yolk, and god knows what.

���I can tell from here that the only pretty thing is definitely you and not whatever you have going on there.” Sanji teased, eyes staring at the mixture while you rolled your eyes. Sprinkling a a generous amount of cinnamon before reaching for the molding pan.

“And I can smell that only good thing is neither you nor that food, if that’s what you dare to call it.” You replied as your lips quirked up in a smirk, pouring the contents of the bowl into the metal pan.

“My, that hurt, love.” The blonde replied, watching you concentrate your eyes on pouring the perfect amount into each paper-covered cup.

“Good.” You mumbled back, ushering him away from the stove to delicately place the pan into the preheated oven. “Maybe you’ll learn to keep that beautiful mouth shut, and find better uses for it.” You gave him a sly winked, moving past him swiftly to start up a fresh batch of frosting.

“Wouldn’t you like to know what I could do this mouth.” Sanji replied nonchalantly, acting as if his dick totally didn’t strain against his pants and a faint tint of red appeared on his face.

You threw him a sweet smile, showcasing the pearly canines while you poured milk into the bowl. You paused, looking around in a slight panic. Where the hell was the vanilla extract? You pinched yourself for forgetting it, you could’ve sworn that you had everything you need already prepped for you to use. Without a second to waste you bent down, opening the cupboard to find a mess of seasonings and ingredients mixed together. You sighed, digging through till your hands caught the dark bottle with a vanilla orchid stuck onto the label. You stood up, catching the eye of Sanji who’d gone unusually quiet, not snarky remark about you being unprepared.

That was because he’d gotten a full view of your eyes the second you bent over before him, revealing what was under that skirt of yours. He nearly burned his food if you hadn’t thrown him a look over your shoulder. After a few more flirty insults thrown at eachother, the food was done. You called Nami into the kitchen as the two of you slid the your creations in front of her. Sanji went on a rant about the meal and how the ingredients in it were like no other, compared to you cinnamon and vanilla cupcake.

The orange haired girl stared at the two plates, unimpressed, and that’s what made the competition so fun. Nami was the only person on the crew who would give a straight answer without a bias. Luffy and Usopp were far too kind to ever admit which one they liked more, constantly reassuring that both were just as delicious.

Zoro had a something against Sanji, their bickering aggressive and annoying whenever they were within the same proximity as each other. You both knew that the moss-head, as Sanji liked to say, was against anything he ever did. If there was a delicious, four course meal offered to him by Sanji, and you presented him with a burnt cheesecake, he’d chose your pastry just to spite the French man.

“Go ahead, take the first bite.” Sanji offered a fork to the girl as she took it and stabbed it into the food, swiping up into her mouth and chewing it with a straight face. She hummed softly, nodding in approval as she set the fork down, swallowing and savory the taste. Then, she picked up the warm cupcake, decorated beautifully with soft and puffy frosting with gold accents. It was fluffy, it golden brown color inviting, and the taste was just as satisfying as it’s looks. Nami licked the frosting that smudged on her lip, let out another hum with a slight smile.

“Well?” You were the first to speak up, leaning on the counter slightly with awaiting eyes. “Who’s did you like?”

“Well, for starters, Sanji’s plate was a meal, something to satisfy a hungry stomach.” Nami commented, making the blonde on your left smirk proudly. “Yours was a nice balance of sweetness and warmth, something to cure a sweet temptation.” The girl placed her hands on her lap, “I liked yours better.”

You smiled widely, bouncing up with a shout as the man next to you sighed, turning away before you could shove it in his face. Nami left the kitchen, cupcake in hand and chuckling at your childish antics. The afternoon ended in torturous teasing from your end while Sanji was left to clean up the whole kitchen, leaving you to relax, watching as he washed the variety of pans.

“Don’t use so much force, it scratches the metal.” You spoke, watching the slightly irritated man scrub away at the grease.

“I’ve work as a chore boy in one of the finest restaurants in the east blue, I know what I’m doing.” Sanji quipped back, making you roll your eyes and stand from the small stool.

“Still bitter, Sanji?” You giggled, bumping your hip into his lightly, “Don’t be such a sore loser.”

“I should’ve won.” He muttered, placing a freshly washed plate atop of the growing pile with a clank. He shut off the running water, drying his hands on a nearby rag, “You got lucky.”

“Admit it, hon, my sweet treats are the greatest things you’ve ever tasted.” You leaned against the counter, one hand firmly planted on your hip. “Or you won’t hear the end of it from me.”

Sanji glanced over his shoulder, walking over to slowly, a smirk slowly lifting onto his lips. “I’ve never even tasted you so called sweet treats, love, why would I spit out lies?” He face so close to your that his breath fanned over your features.

You hummed, feigning a sad frown. “Such a shame, don’t you wanna have a taste of what I got to offer?”

In a dizzying, swift motion, he gripped your waste, harshly planting your ass onto the wooden countertop. He sank down to his knees, creasing the fancy shoes he trudge around the kitchen in, hands teasingly rubbing up and down your thighs. He planted soft pecks from you knee, slowly rising till his lips met the bottom of your skirt. He looked up at you, you’d gone completely silent, just watching with wide eyes and heavy breaths. Without even speaking you lifted your hips, bunching up the skirt to your stomach so it revealed everything.

He squeezed the flesh on your thighs, feeling his mouth water as you leaned back, shaky hands keeping up your body up while you legs spread themselves open. Fuzzy thoughts taking over you. Sanji wanted to move slowly, he was a man of romance after all, he wanted every touch to be meaningful, but fuck, with the way your pussy was displayed, dripping in your arousal and practically inviting him in. He couldn’t hold back, his hands tightly gripped your thighs, assuring that you’d have no way to escape him, even if you were crying from the pleasure.

His tongue expertly lapped up your juices while he nose simultaneously nudge your clit, creating a pleasurable combination. Your back fell done to lay against the wood, free hands now flying to twist themselves into his blonde locks. Your hips jerked and squirmed with each flick against the sensitive pearl, legs going a bit numb from how tight he held them. There would definitely be noticeable marks after he was done, but your mind focused more on what occurred in that moment. How he tongued your cunt repeatedly, moaning softly with each tug of his hair.

Your back arch off the counter, mouth opening widely as you whimpered out, “Don’t stop, please, please.” Your eyes squeezed shut, body stilling for a moment before your hips twitched, an overwhelming feeling washing over you. The tightly wound coil snapped as soon as he began to suck on your clit. “Fuck, Sanji.” You moaned out, subconsciously pressing his face closer then it already was, riding out your high on his nose.

It was such a gut felt orgasm that tears pricked the corner of your eyes, choking back a yelp when he continued his expert tongue work. You’d felt the overstimulation kick in, hands pushing his head away as pathetic squeaks escaped your mouth. He left two more kisses right on your clit, lifting his head to reveal the absolute mess you’d made on the freshly wiped down counter and on his face. A mixture of your slick wetness and cum dripped down his chin, a cunning smirk on his lips.

He lifted you off your back by your hand, making your floppy body meet his hard chest. He lifted your head, forcing you to meet his intoxicating gaze. “I admit it.” He planted a sweet kiss on your lips, “Your sweet treat is the best I’ve ever had, love.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

This man is every possible green flag imaginable. I must have him.

Literally me and Sanji (real, not clickbait, not edited)

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Xavier: Lazy Mornings | Drabble

I totally meant for this to be posted yesterday...but then one of my homies got me into FFXV and legit played that all night. So anyway, my third 10-minute drabble. I'm actually going to start working on Rafayel's batch right now and write maybe one or two of them before I gotta get ready for work.

Pairing: Xavier x Reader Warning: None Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Waking up to something burning normally wasn’t the ideal way of starting your morning. Especially not when you noticed how the man who was normally passed out right next to you until who knows when was currently not in bed. The two things combined had you jumping out of bed in only your underwear, all but sprinting to the kitchen in a panicked haze.

As you suspected, you could see Xavier in the kitchen wearing one of your favorite aprons. He seemed to be trying to cook bacon, but in the frying pan it looked almost charred. He had his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he slid off the desecrated food onto a plate and looked it over. That’s when he finally noticed you in the doorway, looking at him in horror.

“What’s goin on?” It came out as more of a slur as you let out a loud yawn. You covered your mouth and noticed how your eyes seemed to water. You really were tired and you couldn’t place why. Xavier glanced at you, those cerulean puppy dog eyes were big as he almost seemed to pout at being caught.

“I got hungry so I thought I could make us some breakfast.” He finally said and you looked him over then back to the pan. “I also thought maybe I could bring you breakfast in bed for once since I woke up early…” ah there it was. Now you couldn’t be mad at him.

You shook your head as you walked over to him, your hand reaching up. It looked as though you were about to cup his cheeks, but instead you opted to pinch them, making Xavier flinch back in surprise. Before he could get too far though, you were dragging him down to your level and planting a kiss on his lips.

Your arms snaked their way around his waist as Xavier seemed to melt against your lips. Your fingers delicately played with the strings of the apron and you easily untied it and parted from his lips, using your hands now to take off the next piece. Once the apron was gone you tossed it on yourself, tying the back piece and smirking.

“I’ll get us some breakfast, you just sit there and look pretty.” You said with a laugh and Xavier was now actually pouting after realizing he had gotten played by you.

“Can’t I at least help?” Those giant eyes looked at you as he seemed to almost be begging you with them. It always set your heart beating faster than it should and you had to hold strong so you would have a kitchen by the end of the morning.

“How about you crack and whisk us up some eggs. I want to make a breakfast scramble.” You finally said and Xavier didn’t seem happy with the meager chore. His lip jutted out in a pout and gosh it was so hard to say no to him when he was begging.

You grabbed his cheeks with both hands, squishing them and watched as his cheeks turned red. His own hands went over to grab onto yours, but you didn’t let up, “Behave, Xavier.” You scolded him. He knew just what he was doing when he gave you that look, “I want something edible this morning for breakfast.”

Xavier huffed and rolled his eyes; the hands that were trying to pry yours off now went to your waist, dragging you closer as he pressed another kiss to your lips. He spoke against them in a soft voice, “I truly can’t do anything else?” he was testing you this morning it would seem.

You pushed him back gently and smiled, “You really can’t. Now get the eggs ready, babes.” you pat his chest once before parting, walking over the fridge to grab what you needed.

“Fine…but I’ll make breakfast next time then.” He muttered.

“Like hell you will…”

So anyway...tomorrow Infold has a Livestream for what's essentially Season 2 of LADS. Anyone gonna be watching it? Imma have to literally wake up at 6am to catch it.

[nappingnai]

sweet disaster!

synopsis; you attempt to bake for your boyfriend, but it doesnt exactly go as planned..

notes - gn!reader x satoru gojo :) "hun" used as a pet name once. i am genuinely SO ANXIOUS to post this. if u like it pls reblog or comment or whatever.. if u dont like it just come to my house and shoot me tbh

you had always known your boyfriend liked sweet things. the first time you had met satoru, he was munching on some sort of candy. his friends, students, everyone knew. so.. you wanted to try and be a good partner; attempting to bake something for him.

lord now knows you're terrible at baking, and you won't try again.

because it's your fourth try at baking cookies for him, and so far you've failed by forgetting the flour, not placing them further away on the pan causing them to stick together, burning them- you've done everything you could to fuck up these cookies.

you could just watch a tutorial. easy enough, right? well you've watched the same video over and over again, having the urge to punch your phone at the random males voice instructing you for what feels like the tenth time. you could call megumi? he could help. maybe.

a click at the door makes you freeze at the garbage can, having just thrown out your fourth- fifth batch of cookies? you've lost count. you hurriedly shut the garbage, trying to clean up the kitchen and yourself the most you can in only a few seconds, which isn't a lot, but why not try?

satoru shuffles in, looking around a bit for you, hearing you moving around and clinking stuff in the kitchen. "..hun, what're you doing?" he asks, walking over to the kitchen and staring you down as you stand next to the garbage, a complete mess, probably. you haven't had time to look at yourself, just an assumption from the way he's staring down at you and obviously trying not to laugh.

"..nothing at all!" you say, looking over at your boyfriend with a bubbly smile on your face to attempt to distract him from whatever you just threw out, and the burning smell coursing around the house. "you sure?" he questions, tilting his head a bit to the side. you nod, looking into his eyes- well, blindfold- with that same smile on your face. satoru giggles a bit at you, walking over to you.

"two questions. one, why does it smell like a house fire in here? and two, why are you trying so desperately to hide the trash?" he asks, looking down at you. you look up at him. "tried to bake for you, obviously didn't go as planned," you sigh. "stupid dude who's tutorial i was watching didn't make any sense." satoru lets out a small laugh, smiling down at you with that cheeky grin of his.

"you don't gotta bake me anything, you're enough yourself. plus, i don't want you burning down the house.." he mumbles, making you softly punch his arm. "in all seriousness tho, you could've called megumi. he's a pretty good baker, somewhat good of a cook. if you wanna learn how to bake, give him a call."

you nod, still smiling up at him. he leans down and gives you a small peck on the lips, leaning back up to stare back down at you. "please don't try baking again without someone else. it smelled like there was a fire, i thought you burned the house down. smelled like it, at least." satoru says, still looking down at you. you pout up at him, flicking his forehead.

made by myguumi; please dont alter my work or try and post as your own. reblogs are appreciated, but claiming as your own is not.

@venzlenes

[lemonsprite]

𝐀 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 || 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐬 𝐱 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧

Summary: in which Gale shaves his beard Word count: 500 Warnings: brief description of Astarion biting Gale but nothing crazy!! A/N: BLOODWEAVE BLOODWEAVE BLOODWEAVE THEM!!! Not beta read sorry gang -_-

Gale absentmindedly ran his fingers along his smooth chin still getting used to his bare jaw.

He yawned, scratching idly at his tummy, his tunic riding up revealing a scandalizing inch of his happy trail. The magus flipped the pancakes he was currently cooking over their camps open fire, his gaze lazily focused on making sure none of the fluffy stacks were burnt.

Gale really didn’t want to shave but he was afraid he might wake to Tara trying to do it herself late in the night- despite the fact she has no pose-able thumbs. really he was left with no choice, it was either face an possible accidental slit throat or begrudgingly do it himself.

“Mornin’ darling~” came Astarion’s lazy voice behind Gale, his slender hands wrapping around the other’s waist, the pale elf’s face buried quickly in Gales shoulder. Astarion’s body pressed close against him, almost as if attempting to mold their bodies into one.

The mage hummed in greeting, taking his pan off the fire and dumping another two pancakes on to his already growing pile.

Before he could start on another batch, a shiver ran down Gales spine when he felt the light prickling of Astarion’s cold canines grazing his bare neck, the feeling entirely unfamiliar without his signature stubble.

It wasn’t uncommon for Astarion to nibble on Gales neck. After returning the crown of Karsus to Mystra, the waterdovian’s blood returned to a “pleasant tasting vintage” were Astarion’s exact words.

Before his fangs could sink into his flesh however- the elf paused, drawing away from their tight embrace.

“Gale…” asked Astarion, his voice shaking. “Where… is your beard…”

“I had it shaved.” Hummed Gale as he poured more batter into his pan, giving Shadowheart a pleasant wave as she walked by the campfire, the selǔnite glaring in response, still only half awake.

Astarion grabbed the sides of Gale’s face and forced him to look at the vampire, completely forgetting the pancakes in process.

“You what. He shouted, moving Gales face side to side to stare at every angle of his jaw as if that’s somehow make the hair grow back instantly.

“My cat was going to shave it if I didn’t do it myself.” Gale shrugged, turning slightly in Astarion’s grasp to flip the pancake in his pan.

Astarion stared at Gale bewilderedly.

“Okay… I’m going to ignore that part but darling…” the pale elf whined, pawing at Gales jaw. “You look so…”

“Handsome?” Asked Gale with a cheeky smile.

“…interesting…” corrected Astarion, still staring wide eyed at the Magus.

After a few more seconds of taking it all in, Astarion huffed, resuming his spot behind Gale, his hands making their way to the other man’s soft stomach, rubbing idly at the skin.

“It’s Fine I guess…” he muttered, burying his face once more into Gale’s neck. “I could… get used to it…”

Gale rolled his eyes at Astarion’s dramatics knowing he didn’t truly mean his harsh words. “I’ll grow it back dear but you’ll have to be the one to deal with Tara.”

[sturniozo]

In The Shadows IV

Masterlist

“Just one?” Matt asks as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

I look down with a deep blush. “I really have to go-“ I mumble.

“My love, you’ll be happy to give in.” He murmurs as he leans in closer to me.

“Matt-“

“Shhh” he shushes me and presses his finger to my lips. “Just let me…” he trails off. He removes his hand from my lips and leans in close, his lips inches from mine. My heart pounds as I feel him breath on my face.

My eyes snap open as the sound of my alarm rings through the room. I sit up in my bed and shut off the constant beeping. I look around the room. No Matt. It was all just a dream. A horrible dream. Like I’d let anything like that happen between Matt and I.

I rub my face in my hands before I throw the covers of the bed off my body. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, my feet hitting the cold hardwood floor.

Before I can even stand up from my bed there’s a knock on my door. “Hey, did you get up yet?” Matt asks.

I groan. “Yeah, now leave so I can get dressed.” I snap at him.

As much as I despise Matt, I hate mornings much more. The mix of the two is probably the closest thing to my own living hell there is.

“I made breakfast.” He replies through the door.

I shake my head. “I don’t eat breakfast.”

I can hear Matt’s groan through the door. “Come on, I spent so long trying to get the waffles perfect. I burnt like four batches just to get them right for you.”

I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to try to get on my good side when we’re alone.”

“I’m not trying anything. I thought you’d want breakfast.” He says softly.

I take a deep breath. “I’ll be down in a bit.”

“Alright.” Matt says. I hear his footsteps walking away down the hall.

I stand up from my bed, walking to my suitcase in the corner. I pull it over and set it down on the bed, digging through for some clothes for the day.

A party. I can’t believe he’s already gotten us into a party. We only found out about the whole assignment the other day. How could he have pulled this off so quickly? It’s going to be suspicious that we’re the only people no one has heard of in that party of wealthy beneficiaries.

I shake my head. I’ve never been one for dresses or dressing up of any sort. “Foods getting cold!” Matt tells from downstairs.

I roll my eyes and head for the door. I walk downstairs and turn to the right, entering the kitchen.

The counter is a mess, covered in batter and broken eggshells. There’s a pan full of sausage grease burning on the stove, and a plate of overcooked omelettes sitting on the one burner of the stove that’s not in use.

“Matt, what the fuck?” I ask.

“It’s not as bad as it looks, the burns are mostly cheese!” He says as he picks up the plate of omelettes.

“Where are the waffles?” I ask as I sit down at the table.

“Uh, here!” Matt picks up a plate that was covered by paper towels.

“Why are there paper towels on the waffles?” I laugh as I ask.

“They had sausage grease on them.”

“Why?”

“I spilled it.”

“How?”

Matt shrugs. “What do you think?” He asks as he places all the plates on the table. A plate of sausages, waffles, and omelettes.

“Is there enough in our budget to hire a chef?” I ask as I poke the inedible sausage with a fork.

“Hey, I tried!” Matt laughs.

“Not very hard.” I mumble.

“What was that?” Matt asks.

“I said we should throw this out before it mutates and eats us.” I stand up from the table.

Matt frowns and pokes at the omelette that looks like an orange blobfish. “I suppose we can go out for breakfast. Make a face for ourselves.”

“Yeah. You should clean this up first.” I turn around to walk back upstairs.

“You aren’t going to help me?”

“I didn’t make the mess.” I shrug.

“God, you’re like my brother.” He groans.

“That’s a rude thing to say to your wife.” I laugh. “Especially since I know your brother, that’s not a kind comparison.”

Matt laughs. “But really though, aren’t you going to at least help me clean up?” He asks again.

“Can’t hear you, I’m already upstairs!” I yell back as I run up the stairs and to my room. I close the door behind me and giggle as I hear Matt groan loudly and stomp up the stairs.

He opens my door. “You’re sure a child.” I say as I search through my clothes for something to wear to go to breakfast in.

“You’re missing something.” Matt mumbles.

I turn around to face him, confused. “What?”

“Something you’re supposed to be wearing.”

I look down. Shirt, shorts, socks… “What are you talking about?” I ask.

Matt walks up to me. He takes my hand and slips a ring on my finger. “The thing that married people wear.” He says.

“Oh, yeah, that.” I look at the ring. It’s beautiful. Large diamond in the middle with smaller diamonds around it, and it fits perfectly on my finger. “Where did this come from?” I ask. “Did my dad or the case manager pick it out?”

“It’s mine.” Matt says. I look up.

“What?”

“Well, my grandmothers.”

“You’re having me wear your grandmothers ring? For a fake marriage?”

“Why not?” Matt shrugs. He turns around.

“Wait!” I stop him.

“Well if you want to really get married-“ he starts to say.

“What? No, god no!” I laugh and cross my arms. “I just thought you should save your grandmothers ring for someone you really love and are going to marry for real.” I take the ring off and hand it back to him. “We should get different matching ones for the cover.”

“So we’re just going to walk around ringless and hope people know we’re married?” Matt laughs.

“We’ll get-“

Matt shuts me up. “Put the ring back on.”

“You should save it-“

“For someone I really love?” Matt stares at me. “I think that’s passed, don’t you?”

I look down. “Matt, I-“

“No, that was my choice.” He sighs. “Just put the ring on. We should get going before the breakfast hours are over.” He turns around to leave, shutting the door behind him.

“Matt!” I yell through the door.

“Yes, love?” He replies.

“We should match.”

“Match?”

“Yeah, match outfits.”

“Okay.” Matt says. “What did you have in mind?”

TAGS: @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @sturniolopookie @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @cheesesoda @stvrnise @blueeyedbesson @crazycoka @ambersworld69

[probably-writing-x]

Armour - Chapter Three

Summary: Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

Warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship, cursing, i think that’s everything?

Author’s Note: Sorry this took so long to come out !! I went away for a few days and had the busiest week ever but I’m back y’all and I love you <3. Also, I love this storyyyyy !!

———

Rafe’s plan had only been to stay for a few days. And those ‘few’ days were rapidly coming to an end. You’d noticed it first when you’d made your way downstairs and his bag was now packed beside the couch, a duffle only half full. There was a pair of shoes sat next to it and his jacket slung over the top - likely for when he got back to New York. He hadn’t mentioned to you about him leaving, hadn’t even really spoken about New York at all - when you asked him how life was in the city, he rolled his eyes and said ‘you make me sound so pretentious’. You hadn’t asked again and it hadn’t ever come up in conversation, and so you’d just assumed he didn’t want to talk about it yet. But with his bag seemingly waiting for him to go, the realisation dawned on you that you now might not get the chance.

“Good morning!” Rafe looks up as you walk through to the kitchen, “Sleep well?”

You smile, his face is more tanned now than when he arrived, the sun working to return to him, “Yeah, all good. Did you?”

He nods, “Yeah, I just had to get up early to see a couple of people.”

Yesterday night had felt so normal. You’d swam until the sun had fully disappeared, and Rafe spent the next half an hour pretending he knew the stars in the sky, though you were certain he only named one of the constellations right - one of the ones that everyone knows. The pair of you had decided to leave when you were both shivering and you’d lost all feeling in your feet. You’d wrapped towels around you and he’d chased you when you stole his. You showered and changed into the warmest clothes you could find, sat on the couch with Rafe and a mug of tea as the night passed, both of you eventually giving in to sleep when your eyes felt too heavy to beat.

“Do you fancy pancakes?” He suggests, “I want pancakes.”

“As long as you’re better at making them by now,” You point out, walking around the side of the kitchen island.

“Hey! Cut me some slack okay? I was like eighteen!”

“Still old enough to know how to make pancakes,” You shake your head, opening a couple of the cupboards to look for ingredients.

The last time the two of you made pancakes together was when you were both in high school - your options were either revising for finals or finding something else to distract yourselves. You’d opted for the latter. You’d walked the long way to the shop and bought ingredients, whisked up a batch of pancake batter and spilt flour all over the counter. Rafe had been in charge of cooking them, but he’d left the heat too high on the pan and used way too much oil, and the first attempt at a pancake resulted in batter spattering up from the pan and flying into the air. He’d yelled at you jokingly to take cover and had pulled you under the shelter of his arms, your head crushed against his chest as the two of you laughed. You hadn’t thought about it too much then - you’d been dating James by that point anyway. But, now, the thought of Rafe’s arms around you like that made your heart swell just a little.

“Okay what do we need?” Rafe asks, rummaging in one of the cupboards to pull out a big bowl and a whisk.

You lay out the few ingredients on the countertop and start to pour rough measurements of them into the bowl, waiting as Rafe whisks them around, some flour splashing over the lip of the bowl.

“Rafe! Careful!” You laugh, hitting at his arm.

“See? Don’t hit me, you made it worse,” He shakes his head, “So messy (Y/N).”

You roll your eyes and take out a pan, pouring a tiny bit of oil onto the surface and swirling it around.

“Okay so, from experience, we need to be ready to run,” Rafe comments, pouring a circle of batter into the pan.

“So, this is going better than last time,” You smile, “It’s good to see we’ve both got better at doing this.”

“Alright, flip it!” He encourages, watching you patiently.

“Oh, god, no, I’m terrible at flipping them,” You shake your head, “Can you do it?”

Rafe laughs and steps around so that he is stood behind you, his arms wrapping around either side. His hands fold themselves over yours on the handle of the pan, his chest flush against your back.

“We’ll both do it,” He mumbles, his chin above your head to watch the sight in front of the two of you, “Ready?”

He tightens his grip around your hands and lifts the pan up, both of you watching as the pancake flips. It lands on its other side but one of the sides folds upwards on itself.

“Okay so we’re still not the best at making pancakes but we’re definitely getting better.”

You manage to make up enough pancakes for three each and a small pile of mini ones because Rafe always says it’s the best bit when you share them between you. You put maple syrup on yours and he puts whipped cream on his and the two of you sit beside each other on the kitchen island, your elbows bumping as you cut into the fluffy pancakes.

“So, what are your plans for today?” You ask him, wiping your mouth on a napkin.

“Well, I should pro-“

“Hey!” Sarah interrupts, coming through to the kitchen.

You’re sure her bump has grown even in the days you’d been here, and every time you saw her you got a new ounce of excitement for seeing her become a Mom - a day you’d spoken about since the two of you were in pigtails.

“So, John B’s got work to do today,” Sarah explains, “But I need help picking out a crib for the nursery. What do you say we leave in like thirty minutes?”

You nod, “Yeah, of course, I’ll come with you. I’ll go and get ready now.”

Your eyes catch Rafe’s for a brief second and you can see something in them that you hadn’t noticed before, like an odd uncertainty or something close to a guilt. But you offer him a smile and he smiles back before his eyes flick away from you, back down to the fork in his hands.

~~~

Within the hour, you and Sarah are already at the only store on the islands that could actually sell cribs - though the options were limited and you were sure it would be a better choice to accept JJ’s offer of making one for her. You pick up a few other supplies whilst you’re there though - a wooden decoration for the nursery wall, a book shelve with clouds on either end, a few story books with no more than five words per page. Eventually, you give up on the rest, and go to the coffee shop together, taking a seat at a different table from the one you’d been at with James.

“So, did the talk with James make you feel better about things?” Sarah asks, stirring a spoon around her decaff coffee.

You take a deep breath, “I think so… I don’t know.”

She smiles a little, “I figured.”

“I just-“ You shake your head, “I still don’t get it, you know? The reasons he’s giving me, the way he’s acting - I still don’t know how he thinks he’s made the right decision by throwing away a nine year relationship,” You spill, words seeming to tumble into the space between you.

“Well, when you saw him did you want to go back to him?”

You stop then, letting the question sit.

“If he’d have told you then that he wanted to get back together with you, would you have gone?”

The words settle and you still have no response. There’s not a single thought in your mind that could string a sentence together. When you’d seen James yesterday, he wasn’t a boy who knew you. His hands weren’t outstretched to hold your heart, his eyes not flooded with an admiration he would only have for you, his brain not ticking over to remember every detail you’d told him. And you hadn’t reached for him either. You hadn’t felt that pull to return, the kind that made you fight back tears, made your heart feel like it broke a little more in your chest, your hopes sink a little further down into your stomach. It was like there was a wall - one you hadn’t much noticed before. And you realise it all then. You didn’t want to go back to him. And when your mind tried to really consider it, there was only one face you could imagine wanting to go back to…

“(Y/N)?”

You hadn’t realised your eyes filling with tears, the kind that you could place bets on falling or disappearing. You hadn’t noticed your hands gripping too tightly onto the cup on the table in front of you. Or the way Sarah looked at you like she’d just watched a piece of your facade crumble away right in front of her.

“I’m sorry, what wa-“ You shake your head and the tears choose to disappear this time, “Is it okay if we head home?”

She frowns a little as is in worry but nods, “Of course, yeah, of course we can.”

Your drink wasn’t gone, the bill not printed, your stomach rumbled in the absence of food - but there was only one thing on your mind. And you’re in the car to go home before you have the chance to think again.

Sarah chooses not to talk on the drive, the light hum of music between you filling the air enough until she pulls into the driveway. But it’s weird. There’s an odd gut feeling when you get out of the car - like an inevitability you hadn’t considered. You suppress it for enough time that the key turns in the lock and Sarah steps into the house, you following behind.

Your eyes flick to it immediately. The space beside the couch, on the floor just below the armrest. Where a half-full duffle bag and a jacket and a pair of shoes should sit. But nothing is there. Your eyes then move to the end table beside the couch - where a phone and a tangled charging cable and a glass of untouched water should sit. But nothing is there. And the couch - sheets folded atop a single pillow in the middle. All traces of him seemingly wiped away.

Sarah looks back at you, setting the shopping bag down onto the counter, and she realises it instantly, “He didn’t tell you?”

“He-“ You clear your throat, shaking your head, “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I’m so sorry (Y/N), I thought you’d know,” She comes back over to you, eyes seeking to find your gaze, “He told me he wasn’t leaving until tonight, so I figured we’d be back before he left. I don’t know wh-“

“He’s just gone?” You half-cough to get the block out of your throat, “He can’t just-“

“Look, he can’t be leaving yet, maybe you could catch him before he goes?” Sarah pushes the car keys into your hands, “Take the truck.”

Your heart sinks and for a moment you rethink it all. Maybe you should let him go. It would be easier. He’d leave now, maybe come back when the baby is born, maybe you’d see him again at Christmas, and again at the baby’s first birthday party, and again and again on these little pocketed trips where you made no attempt to catch up, and instead accepted every inevitability of falling back into each other’s comfort. You’d sneak out and swim at sunset with him again, laugh about the little things that he remembered, and let him leave without a prolonged goodbye. He’d go back to his life and you’d stay in yours.

No.

Not this time, at least.

~~~

You’re not sure where you’re driving to when you first get in the truck, feeling out of place behind the wheel, your head pounding with the focus of getting to a place you had no idea about.

You drive around the road leading from the side of Sarah and John B’s house, winding down until it trails alongside the docks. It forces another snippet back into your memory - one of the hottest days on the island when a killer heatwave had swept over. Rafe had stolen the keys to his father’s speedboat and the two of you had gone out together. You’d gone as far out into the water that half of the fuel would take you and stayed out there all day. It was too hot and you’d overheated almost instantly on the dock of the boat, diminishing your food and drink supply too soon, diving off into the water and staying there until you could come up with a thousand reasons to go back. It was the last time you’d seen Rafe before you moved to college. You’d got back to the dock and an endless string of missed calls from James - telling you that you should’ve been home an hour ago. Rafe had smiled and told you to leave, saying goodbyes weren’t necessary.

That’s when you stop the car. And you get out without overthinking once again, shutting the door behind you. The sound awakens something in the seemingly empty space. And within seconds your eyes divert themselves directly to the barely visible along one of the old docks now half-covered with the overgrowing of reeds. He’s wearing a t-shirt, slightly stretched over the muscles of his back, hanging a little looser around his stomach. Without seeing his face, it could be the old version of himself - younger, less of a shadow of stubble around his jaw, less of that serious adult look about him. But it doesn’t take him long to turn around, as if he can practically feel you from even metres away from him.

“Let me guess, you want me to steal my father’s boat again?” He calls over to you, his words catching a little on the breeze before they reach you.

You don’t have it in you to humour him now - all you could think about was the empty space next to the couch, where his bag should have been. The bag that was now at his feet.

“You thought you were just going to leave?” You return, squinting against the sun to focus on him as you start to walk the length of the dock.

Rafe smiles a little and looks down at his feet, “Goodbyes have never been necessary.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” You jab back, stopping on the dock still further from him.

Your eyes focus on the wood beneath you - 18 planks between the two of you, feeling like it was now impossible to be any closer.

“Why were you going to go?” You swallow the lump in your throat, “Wh- why weren’t you going to tell me?”

He scratches a hand at the back of his head, his eyes not meeting yours, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say.”

“Say goodbye.”

“(Y/N),” Rafe winces, his eyes finally lifting to they meet yours.

“Look Rafe I-“

“I’m going back to New York,” He interjects, “My flight is today, I’m going back. You’ll be here and I’ll be there. Same as always.”

You swallow every word you’d thought of saying to him on the drive over, every thought that had cycled through your brain of how he would respond. None of that seemed to matter anymore.

“We’ll be five hundred miles away from each other again. It’s great being back here but my life isn’t in the Outer Banks anymore. I know you’re here again, but this place isn’t for me, there’s nothing for me here, I don’t want to stay here,” He clenches his jaw, “I-“

“You’re going,” You state coldly, wrapping your arms around yourself, “I get it. I just wanted you to say goodbye.”

Rafe swallows the lump in his throat, watching the way your face shifts away from him, how you practically recoil away. He’d never seen you respond like that to him, and it boils a sickening feeling in his stomach. He wants to reach out to you, to wrap his arms around you, to tell you to come with him, to tell him he’d stay here - to say anything that would remove every ounce of the hurt he’d just caused.

You keep your eyes on the planks between you, the eighteen spaces feeling further apart than ever now. This place isn’t for me. There’s nothing for me here. Is that really what he thought? Did he think of himself as the big shot city guy and you as the girl that had just come home to nothing? Was that all he could ever really think of you? Was that what he’d been thinking this entire week; that he’d outgrown you?

“You better get going if you want to make it to your flight in time,” You point out, “Wouldn’t want to miss it.”

You can feel his eyes on you and you glance up to find them glassy as he watches you, his hair falling down just slightly and casting shadows over his forehead. He swallows and it bobs his adam’s apple in his throat.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I guess I should,” He glances around his space and picks up the bag beside his ankles, shifting his grip around the handle, “(Y/N)…”

You keep your eyes on him and the focused gaze makes both of you silent. It’s like a thousand unspoken words float in the air between you, catching on the hot air and whisking away as soon as the breeze returns to cool them down. Rafe had been there when you needed him, like he always was. And when you’d first left for college, with James and a new future planned, you hadn’t thought about needing Rafe. When you’d come home, it was like a tiny battery charge if you got to see him - pieces of your youth returning. But you were living separate lives. And, now, as Rafe was leaving again, you felt like you still needed him.

That couldn’t be how things were. He couldn’t only exist in your space when you needed him. And that would be something you’d have to figure out on your own.

“Have a safe flight,” You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself and turning around.

You walk and you don’t look back, as much as each step tries to convince you to. You don’t. You can’t.

Part of you wants to hear his steps on the planks behind you, the sound of the bag thudding against the wood, the sound of him breathless, turning you around.

But he doesn’t.

You get further away and the air seems to get cooler, less dense. There’s a weight on your chest that doesn’t let up, but you force yourself to breathe in and breathe out once, twice, three times. If you could breathe without him, you’d be fine. If you could walk without him, you’d be fine. And, piece by piece, those things would all become possible, all without him.

~~~

It had been two weeks since Rafe had left. He hadn’t texted, though you’d overheard from Sarah that he’d landed safely and that he’d be back again in a few months.

The past two weeks had been full of doing things on your own, for yourself. And it had been flooded with realisation, decisions you wouldn’t have made before.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean?”

Sarah’s sat across from you next to John B, both of them dumbfounded at your announcement. He was sat back in his chair with his arms folded, her leaning forward with her hands on the kitchen counter in front of her, as if steadying herself.

“I’m moving to London,” You repeat, more sure of yourself than you’d been in a long time.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She shakes her head, “You’re just going?”

“What about the logistics of everything?” John B frowns, “Isn’t there stuff you have to think about with this?”

“Well, it’s only short term for now, so I could get all the visa stuff sorted just on short term, I’m moving into an Air BnB for the time being, and then I’ll decide if I want to move somewhere more permanent. But, right now, I just know I need to go,” You nod assertively, “And, you know, what’s wrong with London?”

“How long will you be gone for?” Sarah frowns, “It’s going to be so weird not having you here.”

“I know, but it’s only a flight away, right?” You encourage, “I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Why do you want to leave?” John B asks, looking at you as if it were a stranger in front of him.

“I’ve had my entire life planned out since I was like seventeen. I fell in love with James, I moved away with him, I graduated with him, I moved back here with him, everything in my life has been so determined. And he took that from me. And ever since then I’d been using the excuse of Rafe being here to stop me from actually admitting to anything that had happened,” You swallow the lump in your throat, “Rafe is important to me, and he always will be. But I can’t rely on him to piece me back together. And I can’t rely on you guys either. So, I need just a few months. Just to reset.”

Sarah takes a deep breath like she is finally accepting what you’ve said, “Okay, so you’re going to London. And you’re going to come back?”

“I’ll come back,” You encourage, “I just can’t be here.”

———

Taglist: @viianey @baby19sthings @tsokaro @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @starkeylover

[ivorydragoness44]

Jason Todd x Reader: The Trouble with Dough is

Word Count: 1,020 Warnings/Notes: angst, raw dough from baking, implied eating of some raw cookie dough, the Reader not having a great day but not specified, Jason being helpfully cautious until the Reader is feeling emotionally better. Kinda cute ending? Also, me using the word dough a lot. Summary: The Reader is making cookies, but it becomes a part of their not-so-great day. It’s not going according to plan, and they are having some difficulties with what should be a simple task. Jason arrives worried upon not hearing from the Reader and quickly accesses the situation and tries to help to the best of his abilities.

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

  The day, though bright and full of possibilities, was not exactly going how you would have hoped. You had woken up that morning in quite a good mood, but eventually it steered toward neutral until a bit of a low feeling hung on you. Everything was fine, but you just could not help but wish for more. Something better in a specific area or two of your life. Was that such a terrible thought?   Venturing over to the refrigerator, you were not entirely up for your self-given task. You took the large slab of cookie dough out of the fridge and set it down on the counter. You had forgotten how hefty it was. A decent thud reverberating off of the surface. Without a second shy of crinkles, you unwrapped the parchment paper.   You nearly hummed in approval of the dough’s texture. Gently touching a finger to it, you were pleased to see that it was not sticky at all. Perfect for rolling sizable amounts in your hands.   However, your emerging smile soon dropped as you pulled off a piece to begin your work. All too soon, the inner dough was all over your palms. You sighed and dropped the less than smooth ball of dough onto the pan just to the right. Good enough.   By the second one, you frowned. It was as though it was sticking more to your hands than itself. It was utterly ridiculous and goal crushing.

  Your cellphone rang far out of your reach. As if you could even touch it with the state of your hands.   The specific ringtone ended. Any other time, you would have raced to the phone, if it was not already within your grasp.

  Sliding your fingers one by one against a single index finger, you hoped to add the dough to itself rather than you. If only it worked out a little better. It did not hurt to try, but it was a little frustrating.   The oven clicked in its task of preheating. It would not take long by now, it only had to get up to three-hundred and fifty degrees. But you were not ready for it just yet.   Frowning at the thought, you did not even jump in the slightest at the faint sound of keys and the door knob rattling.   The front door flew open and shut just as quickly. But you hardly looked over to see Jason scan the room with a whip of his head.

  “Are you alright? You didn’t answer your phone,” he asked with a heaving chest.   You stared down at your hands, feeling the welling up of tears. “I’m not enjoying today,” you said quietly.   Jason approached slowly.   “The dough is sticky,” you said, trying to bit back the crack in your voice. “I had it in the refrigerator overnight.”  The oven beeped. Preheated and ready for the first batch. By the sound of it, you plopped the second half cup heap of dough onto the pan.   “Do you want me to put it in the oven?”   “If you don’t mind. I’d appreciate it,” you gave a weak smile.   Jason opened the oven door before grabbing the pan. “Horizontal?”   “Yeah.” Hearing the small clang and slide of the pan before he closed the oven door.   “Uh…”   “Twenty-four.”   “Got it,” he said, pushing the buttons for the timer. Jason turned to you then, a kind smile playing at his lips. “Do you need anything else? Like, soap?”   “Eventually,” you said, stepping over to the sink. There was likely enough dough on your palms to make a small cookie. You were not about to let that go down the drain.   “Can’t waste good dough.” Jason chuckled as you proceeded to remove the cookie dough from your thumb.

  When you finished your tasteful attempt at cleaning, Jason watching for a minute, you requested for soap. He made his way back over to turn on the facet.   Rubbing your palms together, you scrubbed off the majority of the dough before Jason squeezed a good dollop of soap onto your skin.   “Thank you,” you finally looked at him fully. His dark hair was disheveled, even a section of the white streak was sticking to his forehead.   He nodded, green eyes regaining their sparkle, and leaned down to kiss your shoulder softly. Afterwards, he stepped away from the kitchen to give you space. He did not go far. Not that he would.

  Once your hands were finally cleaned, you put the remainder of the dough back into the fridge. And that was how it went for the next batch, until the third and final was in the oven roughly an hour and a half later.   With the last two would-be cookies in the oven, you took the dough covered butter-knife and proceeded to scrape excess dough off of the original parchment paper. Nibbling on that until you were satisfied with the ‘cleanliness’ of the paper, you folded it in on itself and shoved it in a little trash bag.   “Be careful with that,” he advised.   You bit the small blob of dough off of the knife.   “Or do that,” he shrugged. Jason extended his hand to you, and you placed the knife in his grasp.   “Thank you,” you said, feeling progressively better with Jason home.   “You’re welcome,” he chuckled.

  He was kind enough to wash the few dishes that were piled neatly in the sink. Not that there were many, considering that you had done all of the blending of ingredients the day prior.

  “Not that I’m complaining, but why are you making cookies the size of my head?” Jason finally asked, looking down at the cooling racks.   “They’re for your sisters. For helping me out yesterday.”   “Oh,” he pressed his lips together in thought. “Can I still have one?”   “Yeah. There’ll be six once those two are done.”   The oven beeped and Jason smiled. “So, are we sharing the third or fighting for it?”   “I’ll split it in two or we can gift it to Alfred,” you offered, leaning against the counter.   Jason’s face lit up. “I think he’d like that.”

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

Hi! Thank you for reading :) I hope you're doing well.

[straykids-97]

I finally thought of one!!!!

Felix x reader kitchen smut maybe? Maybe they can do food play or use kitchen tools idk. Felix cums in readers pussy? - 🐳

BROWNIE BOY- Felix Drabble

Heh, like what I did there 🫶🏻🫠 thx for the anon 🐳

Felix had always been into baking. Even before the two of you started to see each other. So, it was no surprise when Felix asked if you wanted to come over and bake with him on his day off since he would be lonely as the other members would be off seeing family. Of course, you agreed.

Since you could remember, you had been begging to have his brownie recipe, but he never budged. No amount of begging or pleading could convince Felix. But today, today, you had your chance. He finally was going to make brownies with you.

You excitedly slid around the corner, bag in hand to see Felix digging out pans for the brownies. “Ah! Y/n-ssi!” His face lit up as you bounced up to him. “I got everything you asked for.” You set the ingredients on the counter, he joins you and paws through the bag to see if you missed anything. “Nice.” He smiles, dumping out the bag. He gives you a quick peck, “there’s an apron over there.” He points to the other end of the counter.

Brownie batches were underway, and the second was currently in the oven. Per usual, Felix was beginning to get a little handsy, his slim fingers dancing along your arm every so often. Or hugging you tightly from behind, “watching” you to make sure you were making the brownies right. Felix narrated every step, allowing you to be in control of the brownies this time. But, you noticed that he wasn’t as sly as he thought he was being.

You start to tease him but he finally drew the line as he watched helplessly as you licked the brownie batter off the spoon before rinsing it. Just as you were about to clean the last bit of it off, Felix moves suddenly, gripping your chin. You let out a surprised gasp, tongue still sticking out as he leans in. “Two can play the game, sweetheart.” He purrs as he uses his own tongue and laps at the batter on yours, “but only one wins.” You pant as he yanks the spoon from your hand, standing there as he twists you around so that your leaning over the counter.

He hastily yanks your leggings down, groaning when he sees that you weren’t wearing any panties. You hear him shuffle, peaking over your shoulder and you notice his sweats have been pulled down and he’s lining his cock up to you. His big, lust-filled, brown eyes lazily rise up to your wide eyes. Felix grins like the Cheshire Cat and rams his hips into yours. You moan, bracing yourself against the back wall of the kitchen; Felix doesn’t care. He’s got one thing on his mind.

And that’s showing you who’s boss.

Felix doesn’t care if you cum, there’s time for that later. He just wants to cum in your pussy; that’s squeezing him just right. The two of you got too caught up in the act and nearly let the brownies burn.

You hear the timer go off for the baked goods, “Fe-fe-lixie!” You groan as he goes faster. “Bro-brownies!” He presses against your back, pushing your face against the counter and goes even faster. “I don’t fucking care about those brownies.”

©️straykids-97

[luboy7rt]

TeamWork. Cookies (Task Force 141 - Platonic

There was zero room in the kitchen to move about. John sighed as he exhaled smoke from his mouth out the window so the fire alarms didn't go off, he regretted taking his team to his home for a small break. At the moment Kyle and Johnny were trying a bullshit ‘recipe’ they found online, one to make a batch of chaotic’ cookies... It didn't smell or look good but Johnny promised It would all be okay and he wouldn't blow up John's kitchen.. Kyle made no promises. Simon was silently watching, as he sipped his tea, having had to ‘sneak’ around Kyle and Johnny to even make it… Or well Simon just pushed the two out of the way. John quietly flicked his cigarette, letting the ash fall into the small bowl as he watched the scene in front of him. 

“..I say we draw min’ figures of us lot onto it..!” Johnny huffed out, waiting to draw on the cookies.

“Ya have to actually make the cookies to do that, Johnny” Simon pointed out as he got comfortable on his seat to simply watch, crossing his legs his body a bit less on guard than usual, allowing him to watch his teammates cook.

“We don't have frosting.. so unless ya want Captain’ to get off his arse to go get it, you'll have to beg..! poor you.” Kyle was mixing whatever the hell he and Johnny had mixed up as John gave him a pointed look. He was letting them stay at his house, so why would he go shopping for them all.. for frosting so Johnny can make ‘mini’ thems.

“Probably wouldn’ even turn out too well…bloody hell” Simon himself sighed as he glanced off to the side, his mask still over the top half of his face, but he undercovered his mouth to enjoy his tea.. the only thing able of consumption in this kitchen, usually he wouldn’t but he was trying to relax, plus… No attention was on him with Johnny and Kyle fucking up cookies.

“Aye! What do ya mean, ‘m great at this, ya pieces of shite” Johnny huffed out as Kyle snickered as he tried to shape it into the pan.. making small cookie shapes to put it into the oven.. It was practically sticking to Kyle's hands. John was sure that it was hazardous material at this point, in all his years of service he has never seen that pile of shit before. As Johnny and Kyle have been adding and adding to whatever the hell It was meant to be.

Simon was sure he saw, sprinkles, chocolate chips, milk, Berries..? Bacon from breakfast, a carrot, nuts, and a few different butter brands as they had ran out of one and decided why not two? And other normal cookie recipe materials… But Simon was sure he saw Johnny add a few other things when Kyle wasn't looking.

“Perhaps you lads should stop now” Price warned, glancing around his messy kitchen as he sighed, taking a drag of smoke.. just for the smoke alarms To go off due to his smoking.. the wind having had pushed it inside instead of out the window. “Oh fuckin’ hell” 

“OH shit!” Johnny covered his ears as he hit one of the pans, making it fall on the floor... there goes patch four, the other three having had not made It this far In the cooking process.

“Soap..!” Kyle groaned as he tried to catch it, Simon simply sipped his tea.. moving to try and turn off the smoke alarm and get the smoke out.. and the one-half of the cookies in the oven from their first patch burnt as well... Basically everything went to shite and John never let his team back into his house after this… No way in hell was he letting them cook ever again.

[cyberrat]

89th Batch Of Fics: 12th Fill

Husk/Velvette; Others – Dress Up AU – misunderstanding; mistaken identity; dub-con (love potion) – Husk thinks he's getting lucky? Well he is but actually he's getting drugged.

---

“You’re lucky that you’re cute. And a bit hot. I like the whole… MILF thing you got going for you.” Velvette’s words are softened around the edges just that little bit that Husk realizes with a sense of relief that she is drunk.

Maybe after all these years his luck is actually starting to crawl back to him, pleading for fucking forgiveness. As it should. He swallows thickly, gathering his wits about him. He’s here to do a goddamn job; and listening to Valentino’s laughter slicing through the atmosphere and the crackle of Vox’ electricity, the other two are doing their’s already.

Time to step up.

“Just a bit hot?” Husk croons. He’s not sure what Velvette even thinks he is. He’s not trying to change his voice in any way and he does not think the way he holds himself is particularly feminine, but she seems interested nonetheless.

Her eyes flash and her prettily neon-painted mouth stretches into a wide grin. “Oh. There we go. Got a bit of personality in you after all, huh? What’s your name, pusspusspuss?”

Husk swallows thickly. He’s not… necessarily thought so far. Being the drunk recluse that he’s become, neither of the Vees would probably realize who he was from sight alone, though his get-up sure as fuck helped diffuse any lingering recognition. His name might ring more alarm bells, though.

“I ugh… well-” his eyes fall to the thick glass in his palm and he says in a slow cadence, realizing how dumb it was even as it came over his lips: “Whis…key…”

One of Velvette’s finely sculpted eyebrows rises. Her head turns slowly, eyes following Husk’s gaze and staring at the glass in his hand before turning back to look back at him in a dead pan kind of way that has him wincing internally.

“MMhhh… sure. Whatever you say, mommy.” She reaches up with a hand and while Husk still reels at being called ‘mommy’ of all things, she curls her hand around his throat and forces him to tilt his head back. “MMhhh,” she hums again. He can feel the vibration of it through his body; only because she is suddenly plastered against him, he realizes, his tail flicking nervously in the corners of their eyes. “Your fur is nice and soft. The color could be helped a bit, but… mmmhh are you trembling? Are you afraid or turned on? Cute little kitty cat.”

Husk’s head is swimming. He tries to growl; wants to tell her that she should make up her damn mind if he were a ‘mommy’ or a ‘little kitty cat’, but he wisely doesn’t say a thing. All that comes out is a weak hiss that settles low in his stomach in humiliation.

Fuck, are the others at least succeeding in raiding the Vee’s files? Would they find Angel’s contract? He doesn’t know what he’ll do if all of this would be for nothing.

Velvette stops grabbing at his throat. Instead she fiddles with something there and Husk remembers dimly that Angel wrapped a silky choker around his neck, tittering something about how it flattered Husk or something. He had thought at the time that the other was just full of shit and was tormenting him with the same end goal as Alastor: to humiliate him.

But carefully peering down at Velvette’s interested face now, he realizes that maybe Angel did have the right of it.

A second later, Husk is jerked forward. He grunts, alcohol sloshing over his fingers and heart rate kicking up into overdrive. The sensation is so alike to being yanked around on Alastor’s chains that for a second his wide, panicked eyes flick around wondering if his master was anywhere in sight.

But no… it’s just Velvette who is now cooing at him, her fingers framing his face and carding through the creamy pale fur of his cheeks. The pressure around his neck is still present. “Awww kitty… don’t look like that. Did I scare you? Tsk tsk tsk. Here… I’ll kiss it all better.”

Why is the sensation still pressing in around him? It’s like an invisible finger is hooked into the front of the silk choker, keeping him bend forward and toward Velvette who only needs to slightly stretch her back so she can press her neon painted lips against his mouth.

Husk’s eyes fly open. His first instinct is to snarl and push her away, all his reactions these days focused on keeping Angel Dust at bay; but as if sensing his burst of aggression, his clothes shift around his body and suddenly press in on him from all sides as if a huge invisible fist had taken a hold of him.

It’s not painful. To be quite honest it is kind of… comforting. The pressure from everywhere keeping him nice and down and forcing him to stop his feeble struggling. Mind still reeling with everything that is happening, he lags behind to really react to what is happening.

Namely that he is getting kissed. By Velvette from the Vees who he is supposed to seduce. Or, apparently, the other way round? The fuck even is this?

She smells fruity and warm and slightly chemical, though he supposes that is the neon make-up she is wearing. Not that he’s an expert in these fucking things…

Velvette grunts softly, her fingers moving so there are eight sharp points of pressure digging into Husk’s cheeks through the thick fur. “Focus on me,” she hisses against his mouth.

He tries to bristle but his clothes are pushing in again and this time it does have a decidedly threatening edge to it. His wings jerk involuntarily before he quickly tucks them against his back once more.

Velvette’s lips are feeling a little slick against his mouth; some type of gloss that is quickly sticking to the sensitive fur there. As she pulls back for a little breath, his tongue darts out on pure reflex, lapping at the mess. It tastes like fruit, too. Cherry. So intense that it fills his whole mouth in just a couple swipes of his tongue, sticky and sweet and overwhelming.

Velvette is so close, he can feel her breath ruffling his fur as her fingers become once again gentle and pet across his cheeks as if nothing had happened a second before. “There you go… good kitten,” she purrs, then dives right back in before he can think about it more.

The cherry coating his mouth is crawling down his throat. He can feel it wandering into his belly and slowly spreading warm and saccharine throughout his body. Velvette keeps pressing in, kissing him, pushing him against the wall.

There’s a thick thud and the sound of shattering next to them as his hand goes lax and loses its grip on his glass but nobody is paying it any mind. Velvette seems to feed him her lipstick; her clever little tongue lapping at the seam of his mouth to get him to open up before licking across her bottom lip, swiping away the thick, juicy gloss there and pushing it messily right between his sharp teeth.

Husk groans softly, his tongue flickering helplessly and hands slowly settling on Velvette’s hips.

A calm, detached part of him wonders what is happening.

[demonslayedher]

Nezuko's Favorite: Konpeitou

It's time for Kimetsu Kitchen, and over-analyzing a tiny lore detail! And by tiny, I mean 1.5cm or smaller.

As already stated in the first fanbook, Tanjiro reminds us the Yuukaku Arc Taisho Secrets that Nezuko's favorite food is humans konpeitou, colorful tiny candies that are made almost entirely out of sugar. They are best known for their signature shape, with a bunch of bumps called "tsuno," that is... horns.

Aha, I see what you did there, Gotouge. So in that light, I'm not going to hold back wherever I see connections to Nezuko. First off, like Nezuko, konpeitou also comes in many fun sizes. Because of how the horns are formed with the candies bumping into each other and dripping onto the biggest protrusions, the candies have fewer and fewer horns as they get bigger.

We'll get into how they are made is a second, but first a brief history. Konpeitou, like castella and tempura, were introduced to Japan in the Sengoku period by the Portuguese missionaries. Warlord Oda Nobunaga was even presented with some earlier versions of this "confeit" that had anise at its core for a refreshing finish. However, after the missionaries were kicked out, they disappeared for a time, until Edo-period townspeople in Nagasaki (with access to trading with the Dutch) developed a pan-fried version, which they named 金平糖 (gold-even-sugar). Konpeitou were a rare treat accessible only the rich and powerful, such has the emperor using it for special occasions, until a new and easier method with rotating frying pans was patented in 1903. This was already 36 years into the Meiji period, and Nezuko would had been a toddler.

The first konpeitou factory opened in 1907 in Osaka, which is when they really took off as a wide-spread treat, including being sent abroad in soldiers' rations. The first ones were not flavored, they were purely made of granular sugar and sugar syrup (a mix of sugar and water, so yay, more sugar!), and they came in four different sizes. However, the first variations came when they made a mix of four basic colors to reflect the seasons: pink for cherry blossoms in spring, green for summer greenery, yellow for the autumn leaves, and white for winter snow.

(The closest example I saw to the colors Nezuko might had had available, don't mind those orange ones.)

Throughout the Taisho period they gradually gave way to more popular sweets like ice cream and chocolates, but when Nezuko was a 12-year-old likely around 1912~1913, these would had been widely available and popular.

So how are they made today? Still mostly in Osaka, there's only about 10 factories in Japan that produce them. But only about 5 in Portugal that do, so no wonder people assume they are a Japanese invention! Although you can still find them as purely sugar-flavored and some cafes likes to use them instead of sugar or sugar cubes, you can find them in a very wide variety of colors and flavors now. Basically, if it can be dissolved into syrup, you can color or flavor konpeitou with it.

Konpeitou starts with granular sugar, turned twice a minute in tilted frying pans that are 180cm across at 75 degress C. Every few minutes it gets coated with a scrap of syrup, which gradually makes the candy grow bigger and bigger. It sounds like a simple process, but it takes a lot of patience and practice to get the precise humidity, temperature, timing, and movement to attain a translucent appearance and smooth texture with a pleasing array of horns.

If there is one character in KnY who is extremely patient and can pour that sort of effort into developing something, it's Nezuko. Konpeitou grow only 1mm per day (so it takes two weeks to make a batch of large konpeitou), but that ongoing, dedicated growth is very auspicious, like... hmm. Like what the asanoha pattern on Nezuko's kimono symbolizes. I've always assumed the vines in Nezuko's demon crest symbolized the same thing.

Alright, now to turn this into a Kimetsu Kitchen blog. If you are in Osaka prefecture, you too can join a very brief konpeitou making class to add the finishing touches to a little batch of mostly-finished konpeitou! You get to choose the flavors and colors, and for extra money, you can even add edible gold flakes or get cute jars to put them in. I got to make two batches, one based on the color and flavor already in the first batch. I was concerned out pink and green might mix, so I went with pink followed by yellow for a nice nod to Zenitsu's efforts in Kimetsu Academy to give her the perfect konpeitou. However, I wound up with a nice shade of peachy orange like her hair, and I'm sure Zenitsu doesn't mind.

I call the flavor "drink bar" because I thought a non-pick flavor like melon would be ironic and I wound up with a mix of melon and cola. It's pretty good.

The base konpeitou was purely sugar flavored and white, but with tiny ladles of syrup with food coloring and flavor added and stirred about ten seconds at a time, the shape also gradually changed as the horns got more pronounced. It really is up to taste how little or how much you want to add, they're very versatile once the basics are formed.

[jonquilandlace]

So anyway I was bored and this was fully out of my typical fandom but I found this forest fairy maker by @elequinoa on my old favorite dress up game website from when I was a kid, Doll Divine, and proceeded to brainrot and say hey what if I made all the Disney Fairies in this, except creepy and weird and more my idea of fey? So anyway here's all of the fairies and the goofy redesigns (under the cut because I feel horrible for people who were never in this fandom having to scroll past seven sets of fairies lol)

Tumblr crop is bad so I apologize in advance. (Also disclaimer for minor photoshop on Rosetta and Periwinkle to make their body colors more unearthly, as my intent was None Of These Fairies Should Look Human, and to make Periwinkle's mask an arctic fox instead of a fox; I attempted to look at TOU and it seemed like this should be alright, but if not, I apologize for overstepping!) (Also minor edit for less pixelated banner image)

Fawn - She was the first one I did and wound up more muted in color scheme, but I really like how she turned out. She was meant to look somewhat like a moth or bark, with some faun-ish inspiration, as well.

Iridessa - As a fairy focused on light, there were two ways I could see taking her (the alternate being distinctly holographic), but in the end liked the double entendre of "light" when leaning towards "biblically accurate angel," so there's bird motifs and just general cherub vibes.

Vidia - The opposite of Iridessa, really; the goal here was to lean into lightning motifs and dark or gothic elements to emphasize the opposite elements in comparison to Iridessa's classical elements. Dragonfly wings for speed, of course.

Rosetta - As in her original, meant to resemble a flower, just amped up a bit to where she resembles a rococo/art deco fusion when viewed naturally, but could literally flip upside down and pretend to be a flower if she wanted to.

Silvermist - Yes this picture isn't from the first movie I couldn't find a good one lmao. Anyway, her wings reminded me of that specific type of dragonfly that skims over my uncle's lake, so I riffed on that alongside the almost pseudo-waves of the petal shirt. She is more directly meant to be an embodiment of water, but more lake or even bog-ish water, where she could peek out of the water at the top and an onlooker would only register her as perhaps a frog, as emphasized in the monochrome eyes, or a ripple in the waves.

Periwinkle - Where options did really start to limit what I could do, lol. I decided to lean into the mysterious and crystalline vibes of the winter, with her visage taking on the arctic fox and even reindeer-ish antler look of something moving in the snowy woods, but yet draped in a finery like freshly fallen snow. She's also the only one with "normal" fairy wings, but I could see it for her, with them perhaps being made of frost.

And finally, Tinkerbell - One that I definitely took some more risks with in design, she is nevertheless the most openly friendly-looking of the fey batch, despite her green hue, which is really in character for a fairy best known for hanging out with Peter Pan and being fascinated by humans. For clothing, I leaned heavily into artificer and witch vibes, mirroring a bit more of the human world, with a touch of goblin to temper it. I did shift away from her typical dress in favor of more adventurous wear, more suited for pretending to be a mushroom or even mouse in the corner of someone's eye.

Overall, idk, I just really had fun with this mini-project. I don't intend to do anything with it, ofc; it was just for fun, but I had a fun time with it!