#LET THEM BAKE TOGETHER

[puppetmaster13u]

Another Prompt in Memes?! Yes.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

💙❤️Happy Holidays!❤️💙

[akkivee]

still kinda not over ichiro taking a bite out of his hamburger in the leaders bonus hypster track and going 'it's so good!! it tastes really meaty!!' lmao

[tanked-up]

Soap working on a cake for Price’s birthday

Ghost: I think you’re doing it wrong-

Soap about to throw the whole cake away any minute now: I think I’m gonna smash ye’ face in

Ghost: As if you could actually reach me

Soap on his toes about to grab Ghost’s neck: YOU KNOW WHAT-

Gaz entering: JESUS- GUYS, RELAX

[writinganon1]

@cokoweee

You are off the list 😌

I fear I hyped it up too much coz it’s literally just my old lady hobbies. I just stared at ur drawings for way too long and made ‘em needlepoint/ embroidery

THERES DETAILS AND SHADING I SWEAR!!!Tumblr just stole the quality>:( it looks cool in person you’ll just have to use your imagination

Yes I was gonna fill Cali in but I stabbed my finger threading the green and took it as a sign

Uh I forgot you’re some weird freaked up raccoon thing so I made your little sona guy normal raccoon colors. He has jorts because my little brother insisted that he couldn’t run around with a shirt and leave his balls hanging out. His words not mine 🫠

Sorry

Anyways if I had given this to you in person I would have also given you cookies from the bakery, but I can’t do that so the recipe is in the tags :)

(Look up how to make brown butter if you haven’t made it before)

Ok bye I’m sprinting away coz I’m mad embarrassed

🧍‍♀️🚙💨💨

[00fairylights00]

*clears throat* HIGH HUMANITY P FINALLY BEING ABLE TO EAT AND SHARING ALL KINDS OF WONDERFUL TREATS WITH HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh my god Bloodbrown you are reading my mind ahhhh!!

I bet he would love baking so much, and he takes it so seriously when you tell him the best kind of treats are the ones made with love! I actually have a plot bunny about teaching P how to bake and cook floating around in my notes that I’m excited to get some time to work on.

Okay okay!

The growl of a stomach and the pang of hunger had initially concerned P, who tugged on your sleeve urgently. As you turned to face him his stomach rumbled again, you laughed at his mounting concern and explained that it sounded like he was hungry.

“You know, like how when I wake up I always have something to eat? Like that.” You soothed, the worry lines in his brow settling. 

This was something normal, something human. 

He was now very excited about the prospect of a new human thing he’d be able to try, and eating was something he’d been longing to do, watching you eat tended to be awkward and everything you made looked so appetising.

“I think I have something in the pantry you’ll really like.” You beamed, dragging him into the hotel’s kitchen.

You swung open the pantry doors and rummaged a bit, P looked over your shoulder curiously. The pantry wasn’t filled to the brim but what was in there he wasn’t familiar with at all, tins, cartons and baskets full of food and ingredients he didn’t know the name of.

“Ah hah!” You cheered, pulling a white, metal box from the pantry. “I promise you’ll love these!”

You popped off the lid and inside where multiple yellow discs with brown pieces scattered throughout them, he tilted his head and you waved the box in front of him,

“Try one! They’re homemade.” You coaxed, not that he would take much convincing when it came to you.

“Home… made?” He took a disc, the paper surrounding them crinkling, you also took one for yourself before placing the box on the countertop beside you. 

“It means it was made in the home, I made these ones myself. Some people believe the best kind of food is made with love, which you get plenty of in homemade cooking!” You explained, his eyes widened owlishly, throughly impressed once again by your abilities and your knowledge. You’d said before that they weren’t exactly difficult skills to pick up but he didn’t know how to make a… wait what is this thing?

“What… is it?” He questioned, turning the disc over in his hands. 

“It’s a chocolate chip cookie.” It was solid in his hand but the surface had a bounce to it, he brought it up to his mouth and was even more eager to try it now that he could smell it. 

You watched his reaction closely as he bit into the treat, any hesitance was quickly replaced with pure joy as he rushed to finish the rest of the cookie. 

“You like it?” You asked, and you got an enthusiastic nod in response, a giggle bubbling up from P’s throat boyishly. “Would you like another?”

“Yes!” He beamed, you held the box back out to him and he took another cookie for himself but stopped short when he noticed that you hadn’t done the same.

He frowned, looked at the cookie and then back at you before splitting the treat down the middle and offering one half to you. “Love should… be shared.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[catofoldstones]

Saying that Sansa’s rest of the plot is in the Vale is like saying Arya’s rest of of the plot is in Braavos. Hope that helps.

[puhpandas]

What's an average conversation between Evan and Gregory like?

(also inspired by an instagram prompt about a flashlight duo sickfic)

Burrow-Nest-Fort

(2,922 words)

Gregory gets sick overnight, and Evan, who stayed over, gets sick as well. They hang out in their little quarantine together with no worries whatsoever.

Gregory groans, long and miserable as Evan takes the thermostat he found in the bathroom out of his mouth. "100.4." Evan says.

"Whyyyy..." Gregory asks aloud, bags under his eyes and completion pale as he sprawls out under his comforter. "I didn't even do anything."

"Nobody gets sick on purpose." Evan smiles a bit, putting the thermostat down.

"You slept right next to me like, all night." Gregory points out. "Do you feel sick at all?"

Now that Evan's thinking about it, he does feel that little prickle in the back of his throat that's the universal sign of an incoming sickness. "...Yeah."

He'd spent the night after coming home with Gregory after school on a Friday like he usually does. Throughout the night, he and Gregory had shared his bed, and Gregory had woken up this morning sick as a dog with no fanfare whatsoever.

Gregory groans again, the roughness in his throat accentuated by the dragged out line. "Great." He frowns, and the stuff clogging up his nose is evidently heard in his voice. "I get sick for no reason and now I make you have to deal with it too."

"Its okay." Evan says genuinely. "Its not like you wanted me to get sick. It's my fault for needing to get in bed with you when I'm too much of a baby anyway."

Gregory just narrows his eyes at Evan at that, his already sunkissed tan cheeks redder from the fever. He just sighs, letting his head fall back against his pillow. "I'm not even responding to that. You know what I'd say anyway."

Yeah. He does. The same thing Gregory's been telling him the past multiple months every time Evan feels sorry for himself. Evan himself sighs, feeling sorry for, well... feeling sorry for himself. "Yeah."

Theres a short spurt of silence after that, but its broken by Gregory. "Whatever." He sucks in through his nose, trying to breathe through the gunk. "Hey, since you're already gonna be a prisoner like me, come here."

Evan raises a brow. "Why?"

Gregory reaches at the foot of his bed to grab his laptop that has ten-thousand stickers on the back. He opens the lid, patting the empty space on the bed next to him. "Let's watch TV, or something. If I don't do something other than lieing here I'm gonna explode."

Evan giggles. "You look like it, too." He says, looking at Gregory's extremely red face from the undoubtedly harsh fever. "You better stop talking until you get a drink or your throat will feel awful later."

Gregory let's his head tilt back against the pillow as he shifts to get more comfortable. "Is my Dad home?"

He takes a look outside the window and sees the white van in the driveway. "Yeah?"

"Go tell him about our predicament." Gregory tells him. "I'd rather get the smothering over with before we get in the middle of an episode."

Evan smiles instinctively at that. "Okay." He replies. "But I'm about to be sick too, okay? It's almost my time to be bedridden too." He says on the way out of Gregory's room.

"Then hoard the snacks while you're down there!" Gregory calls at him, his voice sounding like death.

Evan only says the keywords 'Gregory' and 'sick' before Freddy is thundering up the stairs with Evan struggling to keep up with an armful of junk food.

He only gets to the door seconds after Freddy, but he's already doing said smothering. Somehow, three new throw blankets and a few pillows have appeared out of thin air, and are being tucked around Gregory like a nest of fluff and plush.

"What happened?" Freddy asks, ever worried. "Did something cause this?"

Evan watches Gregory shrug from his bed as he walks around the other side of Freddy, dumping the snacks onto his bedside table. "I dont know." He says, sniffling. "I just woke up sick. And he probably will be too."

Evan knows Gregory must have pointed at him because Freddy is smothering him the next time his brain catches up. "Do you feel alright, Evan?" Freddy asks him, crouching down and feeling his forehead and his temples. "Or should I quarantine the both of you."

Evan laughs slightly, and cringes at how the prickling is steadily getting worse. His head begins to feel a little warm. "Quarantine, I guess." He smiles. "I feel it coming."

"I am sorry." Freddy looks apologetic, despite him doing nothing. He pats Evan on the arm, and hes at the door in an instant. "Get comfortable, you two. I will make you both some soup and orange juice and get you some medicine later."

"Thank you!" Evan calls out half-hazardously as Freddy leaves the room. Gregory pats the little empty space in the next Freddy built for him and hoists his laptop on his knees. "We gotta pick something to watch."

When Evan finally sits down and gets settled with at least two blankets wrapped around his shoulders, he checks the laptop screen to see Gregory browsing an array of TV shows on some streaming service.

Gregory wrestles a hand out from underneath the blankets to point at one. "That one okay?"

Evan laughs at bit, making a miserable noise when his nose begins to clog up. "Yeah. Watching a baking show when your aunt isnt home and we cant get out of bed to make anything is a great idea."

Gregory huffs, and Evan cant see his face, but he imagines he's making one. "No I wont." He says. "My aunts cupcakes are better than any of these people could make."

Evan wiggles a bit, letting his body relax fully into the bed. Gregory's shoulder is pressed against his, and a bit of his hair is touching his forehead. "Stop." He laughs. "You're gonna make me want some."

Gregory laughs, pressing play and clicking on the first episode of a random season. When the episode starts playing and introducing contestants, he makes grabby hands at Evan. Evan just pulls his arm out of the blanket cocoon hes wrapped in and hands him a bag of chips, grabbing crackers for himself.

"This is a Halloween show." Evan points out. "Its January."

"This one is funny though." Gregory replies on the other side of the pillow, sniffling. "They have to carve stuff out of big pumpkins for like, a setting for their food."

Evan's brows raise. "Oh."

Theres this girl that says shes in the show because shes alone and wants to win the prize money for herself and to show everyone that she can do it. Shes one of the only people in the roster who doesnt have a partner or kids at home. Evan thinks hes rooting for her. Theres another guy who looks like hes fresh out of school and says he wants the prize money to start his career and open his own location.

"I'm rooting for him." Gregory says after munching on a handful of Lays. "I want to see how far he gets."

"You just pick the ones that look like theyll struggle so you can feel bad for them." Evan points out.

"I pick the ones who might struggle to watch how they fare against everyone else." Gregory corrects. "Its fun. The skill of watching reality TV is one you havent yet learned, Evan."

Evan scoffs a bit, laughing, and Gregory shifts next to him. "You'll learn as you watch." Gregory tells him. "Trust me."

So after that, Evan just stays quiet and watches. Gregory makes comments now and then, and then later complains about how his throat feels like sandpaper. Evan watches people rush around the kitchen and sketch elaborate sets for their food to be showcased in and carve faces and bodies and animals into pumpkins.

The judges are harsh and kind at the same time. A team's food gets burnt. Some come out perfect. A team gets pounded by the judges and the team the the guy Gregory is rooting for is on is the same the girl Evan's rooting for is. Their team wins the challenge and gets an advantage.

By the end of the first episode, Evan thinks he understands why Gregory watches so much. "Wow." He says just above a whisper, the prickling throat having finally set in all the way. Having nothing to focus on and away from how crap he feels makes him groan in misery, and Gregory isnt far behind him to follow.

"Anthony needs to step it up to impress the judges." Gregory manages in-between sipping at the bottle of water by his bed. "He almost screwed up the decoration."

Evan rolls his eyes, and thinks about how proud winning a challenge made the girl he's rooting for proud of herself. It makes him happy.

"I just want to see what happens next." Evan says, smiling. "I've never watched a lot of TV like this."

"You're missing out." Gregory replies. "Its fine. We can catch you up during our little quarantine."

Their little quarantine. Evan smiles outwardly. That sounds fun. Even if being sick sucks.

Its right before the second episode that Freddy returns to Gregory's room, a big piping bowl of chicken noodle soup in his hands with about two entire hand towels wrapped around the bottom and two spoons stuck in the bowl. He puts a tall glasse of orange juice on the bedside table next to Evan, and the other on the window sill next to Gregory.

Evan unwraps his sore limbs from the cocoon and sits up on the bed, pushing his head with a pillow as he and Gregory use their legs as a table. "Thank you..." Evan says to Freddy, grateful but not without the layer of guilt underneath. "I appreciate it."

"Its no problem, Evan." Freddy smiles in that kind, genuine way of his that's never ever made Evan feel on edge or nervous. Evan grins when Freddy pats him on the head, and Gregory smiles when he does the same to him. "Now I'm sorry, you two," Freddy trails off, pulling a bottle of cough syrup out of an invisible pocket. "But medicine before food, please."

He and Gregory both make ick noises at that, making faces. Freddy laughs at them while he pours the medicine into individual spoons for the two of them, and Evan watches with a twisted lip. "It will make you feel better."

"It better if it tastes like that." Gregory sticks his tongue out. "They're trying to kill us."

"Quite the opposite." Freddy shakes his head, holding out the spoon for Gregory to take first. "Its better to just get it over with, Superstar."

Evan watches as Gregory twists his face into the most dreadful expression hes ever seen, and he cant help but smile in amusement when he makes a show at swallowing it down and making disgusted noises.

Evan takes his with much less more fuss, but his eyes water at the awful fake quote unquote 'grape taste'. He cant help the way his face scrunches up, and both Gregory and Freddy laugh at him.

"Evan," Freddy begins suddenly after capping the medicine and taking the spoons back. His voice sounds more serious, and Evan "I'm going to have to tell your family something about why you aren't home."

Immediately, Evan's stomach drops to his feet.

He must have reacted outwardly, because Freddy frowns. "I know." He says. "But it will be alright. I'll tell them exactly why you're staying over, and--" He cuts himself off, and Evan dares to acknowledge the faint clench in Freddys jaw. "Surely if anything they would not care more than they would be upset."

And Evan finds that Freddys right. He's so used to Michael being in his face all the time that he forgets that his Father is at best neglectful and at worst barely present in his life. If his Father were to react in any way other than a quick 'alright' to the call, it would be a thanks that Evan is out of his hair for at least a few days.

The thought alone tends tears to his eyes. He ducks his head, squeezing his eyes shut when the tears make his nose that much more clogged and his face from the fever that much more unpleasantly hot. "Just tell them that I'm staying the night instead of being sick."

Better to not say he's sick in case his Father suddenly catches onto the maybe lie and thinks more than Evan wants him to. Besides, he could deal without the extra attention from Michael.

Freddy looks like he wants to say something about that, but he doesnt. When Evan peeks up through his home-cut accidental bangs, Freddy just nods, choosing not to linger.

"Alright, Evan." He smiles reassuringly. "Do not worry about it, okay? I'll tell them exactly what you told me to. Just let me handle it."

Just let me handle it. Something about that lingers to him, and it sticks to the walls of his mind.

He's never had anyone to handle it for him before. He's never had someone to take the reigns in regard to his dad and brother to the point where Evan isnt involved. Where he went have to worry about it.

He nods after a few moments, and Evan almost tears up again at the patience. "Okay." He says simply, his voice cracking and rough. He swallows, and ignores the gravelly feeling. "Yes, I would... I would appreciate that. A lot."

Nobody says anything after that, but the silence in comfortable. Freddy just grabs the back of Evan's head and holds it to his chest in a hug, and does the same to Gregory. Gregory snakes an arm around Evan's back and holds him close.

They stay that way for another minute until they break apart, and Freddy smiles that comforting smile at him that's like a weight taken off of his shoulders. "I will handle it." Freddy says again, jerking his head towards the soup. "Now finish your soup, boys. It'll be good for your throat."

Then he shuts the door, and the room is silent. The only sound is Gregorys table fan he always has running and the faint sound of cars outside. The heater kicks on in the house, and the sunlight spills through the open window and casts onto their little bed nest as the only source of light.

Gregory leans back into the bed and gets comfortable, dragging Evan back with him when all he's doing is picking at a roque thread in the hem of his shirt. When Evan looks up, Gregory is smiling with dry, cracked lips, and despite looking like death, its warm.

He doesnt mention anything that just happened. He doesnt try to guess what Evan's deal is and try to help him like he usually does, and Evan's thankful. Gregory seems to understand that now isnt one of the times to do that.

So Evan let's it go. And when Gregory gestures the the soup and nudges Evan's spoon closer to him, Evan just starts eating.

They're back to commentating the show in now time. The soup is only warm instead of hot now, but it still soothes their throat, and the steam clears up their sinuses some. Gregory keeps cracking jokes about the contestants and making fun of the corny host, and Evan laughs along with him, drinking orange juice when his throat prickles.

They marathon the season until the sun passes over the house and all that's left is the dim white sky of winter. The team with both of their favorites makes it to the finale.

The two teams fight over the biggest pumpkin. One of them is uncoordinated and theres a heated argument. Their pumpkin falls and breaks. The other splits up and finishes the pumpkin set in record time and completes their concept with no forks.

By the end, the team they both ended up rooting for wins, and Evan watches as the guy Gregory was rooting for gets his career started, and the girl he was rooting for talks about how she'll open her own bakery and she has friends for life now.

The soup is gone and the orange juice drained by the time the season is over. Gregory says theres eleven more available to watch.

Gregory puts on another season, and Evan burrows further into his little burrito and this time picks a contestant after the team's are decided to be against Gregory.

They watch a whole nother one, and halfway through, the sky outside darkens early like it does in winter, but despite the exhaustion from being sick, Evan wants to go another few hours.

Eventually, right near the finale, Evan and Gregory are forced to leave their blanket armor because Chica apparently came over at some point and baked them cupcakes as a suprise. She brings hot chocolate with her with peppermint sticks in them for their throats, and they eat through them like beavers with wood.

They dont move all day. They only get up to go to the bathroom at the end of the second season (Evan's team won, by the way) to brush their teeth, then they're back in their burrow-nest-fort without asking Freddy to get the air mattress.

Evan still feels like crap when he smushes his face into Gregory's pillow, but it's alright because they're in their little quarantine, and he's out like a light either way, looking forward to another season tomorrow.

ao3 link

[aheckinmess]

Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

(Part 10 of The Snowball Effect)

Read on AO3.

Tags: Enji Todoroki, Endeavor, Female Reader, Endeavor x Reader, Enji Todoroki x Reader, Christmas Special, Soft Enji, Spicy Enji, Baking Cookies Together, Some Innuendo, A Little Flirting, Reader Lets Enji Do Her Grunt Work, It's That Time of the School Year, You Just Want Your Kids to Have a Sweet Treat, Help Them to Make It to Winter Break

Word Count: 747 words

Summary: In the season of holiday cheer, going to school takes a toll when you're anticipating a much needed winter break. So, you decide to make some sugary treats for your family to enjoy when they get home.

Playlist: The Snowball Effect

December 10

With about a week and half left of school, you make the executive decision to help your kids tackle the last leg of the school semester by surprising them with sweet treats for the coming week ahead.

After all, you were a kid once. The smell of peppermint and gingerbread from a small classroom would fill your nostrils with Christmas cheer; your mouth would water in anticipation for candy canes and cupcakes and cookies signaling the impending end of the semester. 

So here you are, mixing together a homemade dough and cutting it in half. One side gets a helping of red food dye while the other remains untouched. Some careful planning and you’ve rolled both doughs together into a candy cane pinwheel. On another baking sheet, you throw in some gingerbread cookies. 

After several moments, Enji’s drawn into the kitchen from the office by the smell of Christmas.

“Gingerbread and…” He sniffs the air once more before carding his fingers through your hair. “Peppermint?”

“Yep! I’m making peppermint pinwheels.”

“Mmm, the kids will enjoy that.” His hands rest on your waist while his head rests on your shoulder. “You’re such a good mother.” He kisses your neck before whispering. “You make me want to put another baby inside you.”

“Enji Todoroki!” You squeal, smacking his arm and going red in the face. Then it hits you: the kids aren’t due home for another hour. So you lean up to whisper back, “Do it, coward.”

Challenge dances in his eyes before the oven beeps and you smirk. 

“Later.” He promises, reluctantly releasing you from his grip to let you take the cookies out of the oven.

“Well, since we’re talking about putting buns in the oven, why don’t you help me make some regular chocolate chip cookies to add to this mix of deliciousness? I had more time than I thought.” You suggest as you set the pans on top of the stove.

“I’ve never made cookies before.” Enji says.

“Well, there’s no better time to learn!” You encourage, before setting out a handful of ingredients after digging out your cookie recipe from the recipe box. While Enji washes his hands, you do the honors of measuring out the ingredients for him. “Add these sugars and the melted butter into this and mix it, hot stuff.”

“Oh? Giving me the grunt work, yeah?” 

“I’ve been mixing ingredients all afternoon. I think I’ve earned a little break.” You crinkle your nose at him. “Now, mix in the eggs and vanilla when you’re done. The worst is yet to come.”

“That’s encouraging.” He huffs, following your instruction.

You scavenge for the cookie cutters while he mixes. Whenever he’s done, you point to the flour. “Five cups of flour and two teaspoons of baking soda. Have fun.”

Enji rolls his eyes. He makes a living lifting and moving things much more difficult that a mixing spoon through thick dough. He makes it look easy. Throw in some chocolate chips and they’re ready to be spooned onto a baking sheet.

“I don’t think I’ve ever made cookies so quickly!” You hug his arm as you pull out the shaped metal. “Now we have to roll out the dough on the sheet for some fun shapes.”

“Shapes? Why not just regular cookie shapes?” 

“Because it’s Christmas time! When else am I going to use my Santa and reindeer cookie cutters?” You snort, reaching up to boop his nose.

“Alright, alright.” Between the two of you, shaping the cookies with the cutters doesn’t take much time. “How long do we put them in for?” 

“About twelve to fifteen minutes. Just long enough to taste one of the gingerbread and peppermint cookies!” You giggle. “Which would you like to try first?”

“The gingerbread, I’d like to end on a mintier flavor.” Enji holds his hand out for the little gingerbread man you offer him without the need to wait for it to cool like you do. “Mmm, Wife, you are an excellent cook.” He kisses the side of your lips just to leave a crummy little mark on the corner of your mouth. He hands you his half of gingerbread while you offer the other half of your peppermint cookie. 

You feed each other and harmonize hums of satisfaction.

Later, when the kids rush in from school and the buzzer goes off for the chocolate chip cookies, Enji sneaks one off the baking sheet so he can be the first one to taste them.

Day 11

Credit to @saradika-graphics for the holiday banner! Thank you so much!

[eimearkuopio]

Schrödinger's Messiah. He is both dead and alive until we open the box. If we have had enough faith, He will be alive.

I'm not ready to open the box yet. It's been too long. I believe, but I am afraid. So if you want to open it, do it yourself. I'm going to go set up the Resurrection Feast and hope it won't be a funeral.

[varjopeura]

.

[the-everqueen]

more things to discuss with my future therapist: getting anxious around eating or obtaining food where other people can see

[ymahousewine]

There's something you need to know about US health insurance

While the topic is still hot I want to mention something I think is important. I have made a post or two before but it bears repeating.

I once worked at a call center of one of the leading health insurance companies

The corruption and coddling of "the rich" is REAL.

None of the executives of Facebook, snap chat, twitter (any social media or tech company) pay deductibles

YES THE RICH DO NOT HAVE DEDUCTIBLES

Not only that but ELECTIVE SURGERIES (noes jobs, boob jobs, face lifts, tummy tucks ect.) for these people was also covered in full.

And these are RICH people. Not your neighbor who collects fancy watches with the lake house. Not the guy with the loud shiny car or the lady with fancy clothes. Oh no those neighbors might as well be paupers cosplaying as rich compared to these people.

The other thing that I need to tell you is this: the children of the rich are walking pharmacies. All the party drugs normal people go to jail for "abusing" yeah these kids have a script even if the medications don't make sense to prescribe together.

One of the most radicalizing moments in my time there was:

I had one call with a RICH person and let them know their elective rhinoplasty and boob job for their wife was covered with no deductible. The plan they were on was like $250 a month, for a billionaire, for the whole family.

Right after that call I had to tell a young woman that her medically necessary abortion would not be covered.

Walking out of that job was not difficult. Keep in mind, the call center reps have no control over what insurance will and will not pay for. They cannot "do you favors" and push a claim in faster. I have plenty of stories from my time there, from people loosing their minds to actual threats to completely incompetent supervisors. But the thing that stuck with me the most is that the unfairness and corruption is baked into insurance from the start.

It's designed to keep/make you as poor as possible

[buckyalpine]

18+ Minors dni. Buckys innocent neighbor who bakes him cookies and muffins just cause. The girl next door who has the coziest apartment he's ever been in. Shelves filled with books along with plenty of comfy blankets decorating the couches. Bucky has his own place right across but home is with her (even if she doesn't know it yet).

She's the type of girl he's going to take his time with, asking her out on a date, just coffee and a walk in the park. Nothing more than a kiss on her cheek at the end of the night. Another date. Dinner. Another kiss to her other cheek. He wouldn't dare rush anything, especially not someone as soft and sweet as her.

He feels like such a dirty little pervert when he thinks about her afterwards when he's alone in bed, all the blood in his body rushing south, and fuck he's so hard. He tries to ignore it, he didn't want to do something so debauched by thinking of her like that, he even tries to think about his grocery list, laundry, he'd probably wash his arm later, it would probably be fine in the dishwasher-

Nothing worked.

He groans, shuffling and kicking his sweats off, hissing when his hand goes down to tug at his aching cock, relief flooding his veins at the sensation. He lets his mind wander to how adorable she'd be, the way he'd take her apart in the most gentle way. Lay her against the pillows while he holds those soft thighs apart, giving her the most feather light suckles on that perfect clit, basking in all the sounds she'd make. He strokes himself faster thinking about the way he'd get her ready to take all of him. How he'd make it so good for her-shit he was going to blow-maybe if he was lucky, one day she'd let him put his cock in her mou-

"Fuck!!" Bucky threw his head back, spurts of cum shooting from his sensitive head, his post orgasm haze leaving him feeling like a filthy old man. She were here making him baked treats and he was jerking his dick off like a sick fuck.

Then the night finally comes. Bucky is ready to cuddle and nothing else but he's thrown off because never in his wildest fantasies did he expect this.

She is the girl who sends him reeling the first time he takes her clothes off one by one revealing dark ink on her back and hips. He has to suppress a growl, his eyes growing wide at the scantily clad lace that covers her body.

"Like what you see, Sergeant?" she practically purrs in his ear while he lets his han ghost over her bare skin, his chest heaving when his eyes fall to her perfect breasts, hints of silver peeking from under her lingerie, there was no way-

"Can I?" He asks breathlessly, his hand reaching behind to unclasp the bra, those pretty pierced nipples begging to be sucked.

Bucky who turns into a fucking menace, his entire world flipping upside down when she grinds down on his crotch not hiding exactly what she needs from him. He doesn't even have the ability to hide how feral he is, letting all his inhibitions slip.

-

"My little bunny's a slut, fuck, c'mere" He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder, hauling you over to his bedroom like an untamed beast, tossing you onto his bed with no remorse. You're in nothing but your panties which he rips right off, your thighs squeezing together at the way he stalks over to you, his hungry eyes raking up and down your body without an ounce of shame. He tugs his sweats down to reveal his leaky cock, stroking it at the edge of his bed after tossing his shirt off.

"See this baby? Been fuckin' stroking and touching myself like a fuckin' teenager because of you-" He throws off his pants before climbing onto the bed and kneeling between your thighs, spreading them apart with his knees, "-and you've been here lookin' like God damn sin under those cute little sweaters"

He flicks his cockhead against your clit, humming at the clear beads of his arousal that drip onto your cunt.

"Fuck James, need more, pl-"

"Nuh uh, what was that you called me earlier, sweets?" He lets out a dark chuckle, the veins in his cock throbbing as he tightly holds the base, waiting to hear it again.

"Sergeant" you whine with mischief in your eyes and Bucky is a goner. He'll taste you later and most definitely feed you his cock another day but right now he wants to be nowhere else other than your pussy. He wants to watch you take every bit of him, rolling over to lay on his back while you straddle him, his length slotted against your cunt. He holds it up for you with a cocky look on his face, moaning when his tip breeches your tight pussy, your walls gripping his swollen, pink head.

"That's just the tip baby, c'mon, sit on it, wanna put all of my dick in you, that's it, good girl-shittt"

"Oh fuccckk,s'big" You moan feeling the stretch as you sink all the way down, panting and staying still while you adjust to his size.

"That's it bunny, that's it, ride me, ride your Sergeant" He grabs you by the hips, guiding you to grind down on him, making you feel his entire cock in your stomach. "You're a slut for big dick aren't you baby, acting all cute and shy when all you really wanted was the winter soldier's cock"

Bucky wasn't even sure where all the filth spewing from his mouth was even coming from but he couldn't stop.

"S'that it bunny? Say it baby, tell me how much you wanted my fat cock in you"

"Wanted it! F-cuk Sergeant, wanted your cock s-o-so bad!!"

"Fuck yes!!" His feet plant to meet your bounces, his hips thrusting up, slamming his entire length into you. "M'close, fuck bunny, gonna cum already, I can't hold it-

He doesn't have time to be embarrassed. You feel to good. He rubs your clit needing you to cum all over him so he can let go.

"Please, cum all over Sergeants cock baby, give it to me, be a good girl n'cum, c'mon, cum on my dick, yes, oh fuck yes I can feel it-milk it, shit touch my balls-"

You nearly collapse as your orgasm starts to wash over you, his sponge head hitting the most sensitive parts against your walls while he toys with your clit. His voice is muffled as you start to feel waves of pleasure consume you but you head just enough to reach behind, rubbing his heavy, so full of cum ba-

"FUUUCCCCKKK" He grabs you and wraps his arms around your body while he relentlessly thrusts up, biting down on your shoulder while he lets out the sluttiest, loudest moan with 0 remorse. It feels too good and he's sure the neighbors can hear but honestly, everyone should know how amazing it feels.

-

"I got you pretty baby" Bucky coos as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, a shiver running through you while you float in bliss. Bucky pulls the covers up, deciding to cuddle up with you for a bit before running a shower, his previous demeanor replaced with the far less debauched version of him.

Anyway, just an idea. Also, it's past my bedtime.

[nezuscribe]

(slightly suggestive)

another little drabble for arranged marriage!gojo but imagine a moment before he confessed but something was looming over the two of you. it was crossing the line of friends, not necessarily husband and wife, but two people desperately in love and didn't know how to say it.

you were in one of your late-night frenzies, your brain so muddled with every thought that you decided to do what you knew best: bake.

you often find yourself in this situation as of late, but it truly seems to be the only thing that helps. you wanted to tell gojo how you were feeling, but it was too far in, so you decided something simple and sugary would help you in the moment.

at this point, the walk to the kitchens was something you could do blind, and considering how many times you did this, you already knew where all the ingredients were.

you set out your sugar and flower, and go rummaging in the cold cellar for some butter and eggs. you try not to think about how at dinner gojo slid closer to you, your arms touching as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. or how a couple days ago he had found you in the library, reading next to a windowsill, cozying up next to you as he read the book over your shoulder.

you're so lost in your head with sifting the ingredients that you fail to realize that the very man himself had come up secretly behind you, curiously watching you in your element.

(he'd never admit that he'd first gone to your room, and only came down here after he realized you were gone).

but, unlike the last couple of times, you'd gotten used to his stealthy ways. he was quiet, sure, but you could recognize him by his slight breath alone, or the way he smelled faintly of cloves.

you try not to let your breathing hitch, or let a smile grow on your face as you decide to break the silence.

"if you try to scare me while i'm baking you better rethink your choices," you warn him and hear gojo snicker quietly behind you.

gojo moves from where he was standing, and he leans his back against the counter next to you, craning his neck to look over at your bowl.

your eyes dart to the side, to the way his arms are resting behind him as he balances himself back on them (or the way his arms bulge and veins pop).

"what's on your mind tonight?" gojo asks, knowing you only do this now whenever you're stressed out.

"not much," you mutter, despite wanting to say you, you're on my mind.

he tsks, not buying your lie as he leans in a little close, his head blocking your view of your mixing bowl as he tries to get a little taste with his fingers.

"hey!" you cry, smacking him lightly on the back of his neck, "your hands are all grimy!"

you watch as he peers at you from the corner of his eyes, glaring at your offensive remark as he retracts away, a small pout on his face as you grin in slight victory.

"my hands are clean," you hear him mumble petulantly and you chuckle, rolling your eyes at his antics. the closer the two of you got, the more you found out that his closed-off and aloof demeanor was just a facade for a dramatic, grouchy man-child.

there's a comfortable silence for a moment, one where you're mixing and one where he watches you mix. you don't really notice the quiet anymore, just another added sound when you and gojo grow more comfortable together.

"how was your day?" he finally asks, a simple question, but you know he's using it as a mask to find out what was wrong with you.

"good," you say with a shrug, starting to gently fold in your wet mixture with your dry one, "you weren't at dinner so i was actually able to eat in peace," you add, trying to sound indifferent when really it's what spurred this entire thing on. how, when you realized that you missed seeing him, talking to him, being near him, you were really, really, missing him. and that's not how friends are supposed to act. or, at least, from what you've heard.

gojo smiles, a soft look on his face. you're trying to be sarcastic, he knows that, but there's something...deeper behind your words, something that he too feels.

"the eastern tribe took up more time than i thought they would," he explains, his blue eyes glowing when he notices the way you slightly relax, "i tried telling them that my wife was waiting for me, but apparently peace negotiations can't be postponed."

you bite your lips, trying to hold back your giddy smile at his words. you know he's probably teasing you, using the phrase my wife as a way to get out of a boring meeting, but you love it nonetheless.

he knows you do.

"those bastards," you murmur teasingly, hearing his loud laugh as he lightly shoves you with the point of his boot.

"yeah, well, they don't have wives back home," he crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips into a thin line, "so they don't know the feeling."

you swallow thickly, not looking over at him when he says that.

there's another silence as you continue to fold the batter, sensing that same feeling wash over the two of you.

"let me grab a..." you turn around, head craning to look for a spoon to dip in the batter, needing to make sure the sweetness wasn't too overbearing (and because you liked tasting the batter before it was sent off to be baked thoroughly), but stop when gojo pulls the bowl in closer to him.

you watch as he glides his finger across the sides, not letting it touch the actual bulk of the mixture, and brings it forth towards your lips.

his brows cock upwards, as if he was waiting for you to try it.

you give him a look, nose slightly wrinkled.

"i swear my hands are clean," he promises, crossing one hand over his chest as a sort of pledge, but that's not what holding you back, shouldn't he know that?

your mind is working to beat the thrill of your heart, the one that's pulling you towards him like a magnet, the one that desperately wants to have his finger in your mouth.

you bite your cheek for a second, eyes flickering up from his to his finger, and some sort of heat in you takes control as one hand gently grabs his wrist, pulling his hand closer to your parted lips.

your tongue darts out, your mouth closing over the digit as you taste the sugary batter coating your tongue. you feel dizzy, your stomach twisting, a heat taking over your body as your tongue swipes over it, licking it clean.

it's nothing overexaggerated, nothing too crazy. you lick his finger the way you'd like your own, but fuck, this isn't your own finger and gojo's looking at you with his pupils blown wide, the blacks overtaking the blue in his eyes.

your hand is still holding his wrist, your lips gliding over it as you pull away, breathing slightly less when you glance up at him.

gojo swallows thickly, hoping you don't see the bulge that's growing in his pants.

"good?" he chokes out, his voice thick in his throat.

"yeah," you mutter, the batter still lingering on your tastebuds, "it's perfect."

fuck, you're both screwed.

[landscaping-your-mind]

[ID: A drawing of a person in a blue shirt doubling over and clutching their stomach. Above is: "I'm Gonna Fucking Die Disease" and underneath is: "Causes: Read a fanfiction that was just a little too OOC" /End ID]

No because I have such a visceral reaction to fanfictions that have the characters do something that they would never do. “He would not fucking say that,” actually causes a genuine physical ailment in my body. The world is caving in on me. I feel sick